#A Scot In The Dark

[sarah-maclean-completist]

toritalksbooks: Red Flag Book Recs.

[ancuiri]

leon idea: leon getting booped on the nose very gently or maybe someone is caressing his cheek and he is leaning into it

•͙┄✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ i dunno how to do backgrounds for this arts

He was booped on the nose but with lips and I'm not sure if it was gently

Guys, maybe you wanna lil ask-event with Leon and An?? Maybe for me it's gonna be more motivation to draw more often 🍽️

[rowan--photography]

preparing to survive

November 2024

[adventuresofalgy]

It had been a wild and stormy night, and Algy had had great difficulty clinging on to the tree in which he had chosen to sleep, waking frequently in the darkness as the wind howled and the branches thrashed all around him, and the sleet and snow turned to drenching rain which soaked his feathers.

And from time to time he had heard eerie, eldritch sounds from the direction of the lochan; strange sounds that he did not recognise but which caused his feathers to shiver and shake involuntarily… But he had hugged his magic pumpkin lantern as tightly as he could while perching on a trembling branch, and hoped for the best. And when the morning eventually arrived, Algy found that all was well, and the landscape had been transformed into a thing of beauty once again, for the Atlantic storm had brought a great change in the weather, with much milder air sweeping in from across the great ocean on strong winds, to blow the menacing clouds away and melt the snow.

Hopping down to the ground, Algy surveyed the lochan carefully, but he could see nothing out of the ordinary. Deciding that he must simply have been imagining things, as a fluffy bird is apt to do during a disturbed and sleepless night, he was about to set off on his journey once again when a raven happened to pass by. "I'd no' bide there if I was you," it croaked, as it flew overhead. "Do you no' ken there's a kelpie in yon lochan, you daft bird…"

A kelpie! A shiver shook Algy's feathers again. The lochan was lovely to look at in the morning light, but he recalled the fearful noises he had heard in the darkness and resolved to move on hurriedly, before the day faded into night yet again…

I’m feared o’ the road ayont the glen, I’m sweir to pass the place Whaur the water’s rinnin’, for a’ fowk ken There’s a kelpie sits at the fit o’ the den, And there’s them that’s seen his face. But whiles he watches an’ whiles he hides And whiles, gin na wind manes, Ye can hear him roarin’ frae whaur he bides An’ the soond o’ him splashin’ agin’ the sides O’ the rocks an’ the muckle stanes. When the mune gaes doon at the arn-tree’s back In a wee, wee weary licht, My bedclaes up to my lugs I tak, For I mind the swirl o’ the water black An’ the cry i’ the fearsome nicht.

Which translates from Scots into standard English roughly as follows:

I’m afraid of the road on the other side of the glen, I’m reluctant to pass the place Where the water’s running, for all folk know There’s a kelpie sits at the foot of the ravine And there’s those who have seen his face. Sometimes he watches and sometimes he hides And sometimes, if no wind moans, You can hear him roaring from the place where he dwells And the sound of him splashing against the sides Of the rocks and the great stones. When the moon goes down at the alder tree’s back In a wee, wee miserable light, My bedclothes up to my ears I take, For I remember the swirl of the black water And the cry in the terrifying night.

[Algy is thinking of the first three verses of the poem The Kelpie by the late 19th/early 20th century Scottish writer Violet Jacob.]

[lfc-unbelievables]

[mekanikaltrifle]

since you wanted to see a bit more, @extractionjoint​, one more Ms Knox having a bit of fun with Celerity. She doesn’t use any Presence at all, and has never learned it (for personal/moral reasons), so she’s got unusually high Auspex and Celerity for a vampire her age. That, and the relatively low generation helps too. 

She didn’t always look like this, and she was someone else once... but she’s a damn good Enforcer now, and that’s what counts.

Fun fact: she was in Los Angeles during VtM Bloodlines and may turn up in my fancomic... if I like the plot I have.

[escapismsworld]

Francis: The world can be dark, Mary, and uncertain and cruel. The only thing that matters is that we face it together. No matter what happens, you are my light

- Reign (TV Series 2013-2017)

[reveriel68cd]

packing up my suitcase when i suddenly feel like i hate everyone so much that i have to run away to isolate myself for couple of months

[faeryworlds]

TAG DROP PART 1

[justcallhimgerry]

Copshop

[found-under-fern]

[trondheimimmigrant]

"To learn which questions are unanswerable, and not to answer them: this skill is most needful in times of stress and darkness."

"For å lære hvilke spørsmål som er ubesvarbare, og ikke å svare på dem: denne ferdigheten er mest nødvendig i tider med stress og mørke."

"Tae kennin wit queystion wan cannae kent n' nae to try tae ken thaim: maist needful ting in times o' stress n' mirk."

Original quote - Ursula K. Let Guin: The left hand of darkness.

[graphicpolicy]

A dark twist comes to Marvel's What If…? this Summer

A dark twist comes to Marvel's What If…? this Summer #comics #comicbooks #whatif

Home to some of the most memorable and thought-provoking stories in the Marvel mythos, What If? was the series where anything could happen! This summer, the imaginations of comic creators and fans will run wild once again in a new series of What If? one-shots called What If…? Dark. Legendary creators and rising stars alike will revisit iconic stories in Marvel Comics history and ask: What would…

[adventuresofalgy]

When Algy woke up on the following morning he found that there had been very little change overnight. His home was still a wee blurry island in a sea of impenetrable Scotch mist, and everything around him was still dripping, dripping, dripping… As it continued calm, the trees which almost always sighed or rustled in the wind – or sometimes even roared – were hushed and still, sudbued by the dense wet blanket which had draped itself over what seemed like the entire world.

But it was not absolutely silent, for if Algy listened carefully he could actually hear the beads of water dropping gently from the foliage all around him, and from time to time his robin friend, who was hiding somewhere in the mist nearby, sang a snatch of a pretty though rather melancholy air… pianissimo…

Algy flew up into the relative shelter of a Scots pine tree and perched moodily on its soft but very wet needles. Suddenly he heard the muted calls of a small flock of geese passing high overhead, and looked up eagerly in the hope of seeing them, but he could see absolutely nothing at all… just a uniform, pale grey coverlet, which had been spread out in all directions, as far as the eye of a fluffy bird could see…

The sound was a haunting and lovely one though, and Algy thought of his beautiful feathered cousins flying happily together, high in the light of the sun, which must surely be shining somewhere up there, above the mist. For a few short seconds he was sorely tempted to join them, but he paused to reflect that it might not be fair to his assistants to leave them stranded in such permeating gloom, and very soon the tempting calls of the geese had faded away, just like the landscape, and the moment had passed.

But of course it is in the fundamental nature of a fluffy bird to embrace fluffiness and not dreariness, so, shaking some more of the water out of his feathers, Algy resolved to look ahead in his mind to the prospect of new adventures – hopefully not always smothered in drenching Scotch mist.

Naturally he agreed with the poet that it was inevitable that "into each life some rain must fall" – although Mr. Longfellow, like so many other Americans, did not seem to know that a great deal more rain fell into the lives of the residents of the wild west Highlands of Scotland than in most other places… And Algy was truly grateful that the wind had indeed become weary for a while, and the day felt relatively mild for the time of year, albeit disconcertingly dark.

So, shaking himself yet again, Algy resolved to cease repining and remain as fluffy as was fluffy-birdly possible in such soggy, feather-saturating conditions:

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall,         And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,         And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall,         Some days must be dark and dreary.

[Algy is quoting the poem The Rainy Day by the 19th century American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.]

[cultfaction]

Cult Faction Podcast Ep.127: The Gate (1987)

This week we discuss The Gate, a 1987 supernatural horror film directed by Tibor Takács and starring Stephen Dorff in his film debut. The film follows two young boys who accidentally release a horde of demons from their backyard through a large hole in the ground. https://cultfaction.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/ep127-v2.mp3

[practically-an-x-man]

i still think i'd look good with a lil scrubby beard. that would be about the only thing i'd go on T for. the rest i'm fine with but i wish i could grow facial hair