#Auger Shells

[rattyexplores]

Photos 1-2 - Gastropoda sp.

Photos 3-4 - Fasciolariidae sp.

Photos 5-6 - Terebridae sp.

Photos 7-8 - Neverita didyma

Photos 9-10 - Duplicaria bernardii

More shells washed up on the shores of Woppa.

13/09/23 - Gastropoda spp.

QLD:CQC, Woppa (Great Keppel island), ocean shore

[doyoulikewafflez]

Day 19 - Ridge

(I have to admit, this was a bit challenging. Anyways: fun fact about auger shells (the long one), they can grow to be 6 inches long!! )

[faantasizee]

[susiecards]

Ace of spades

Auger Shell Found in warmer waters, they stun their prey which consists of various marine worms.

[w1tchcr4ftt]

what if i said i imagined music for a splatoon idol group i made that does not exist but its a fire song. Augy sings, Calico writes and plays and Smash adds percussion whether in edited form or other.

[steampunktendencies]

This 19th-century multi-tool from Germany has 100 different blades and a .22-caliber five-shot revolver.

This knife could be described as the Mother of all Swiss Army knives. If you count the miniatures inside the tortoise shell handle covers, it has 100 “blades.” They include pocket knife blades of every style imaginable, a serrated blade, two dagger blades, several different types of shears and scissors, an auger, a corkscrew, two saws, a lancet, button hook, cigar cutter, tuning fork, pens and mechanical pencils, mirror, straight razor, and a functional .22-caliber five-shot pinfire revolver. The one modern convenience it doesn’t seem to have is a bottle opener, but the bottle cap as we know it wasn’t invented until 1892. Source : National Museum of American History

[bigmammallama5]

Shell Haul

Atlantic bay scallops, calico scallops, baby’s ear snail shells, cayenne keyhole limpets, lettered olive, shark eye moonshell fragments, Atlantic auger shells, common jingles, small eastern oysters, pen shell fragment, eastern banded tulip shell fragment, Atlantic coquinas, cross-hatched lucines, fossilized shark teeth and fragments.

Cross-barred venus clams.

Cross-barred venus clams.

Cross-barred venus clams, common Atlantic slipper snail shells, arc shells (turkey wing and moss).

Arc shells (turkey wing and moss), southern ocean quahog venus clams, soft-shelled clams, eastern oysters, Atlantic giant cockles, assorted small arcs and cockles.

Atlantic giant cockles and fragments, assorted small arcs and cockles, soft-shelled clams, lightning whelk fragments, pear whelk fragment, assorted coral fragments, scotch bonnet fragments, worn and textured shell fragments (quahog, arc).

[All shells were responsibly collected, most to be used in or with art.]

[themarginalthinker]

Undertow

Laddie and the Boys go beach combing. Laddie shows Dwayne some shells he found.

-

Hey guys! Back with another one! A cute scene between Dwayne and Laddie I've had in my head for forever, and finally getting around to writing it.

However, before the drabble, there are a couple of things I'd like to say about specifically our version of Dwanye here:

In our headcanons and worldbuilding, Dwayne is Native Canadian, from the Haida people of Haida Gwaii off the coast of BC Canada. In this drabble, he tells Laddie a story of Raven. I, nor my co-author, are Indigenous. The information on the story nominally comes from the University of British Columbia and the Canadian Museum of History. Here and here.

As someone who is not part of the culture and wishes to be respectful, I am open to concrit and suggestions for how to change or improve the character's representation or dialogue, and corrections about the presentation of the story or alternate sources of information!

As always, thank you. :>

When Laddie runs back to him, he's covered in sand.

"Did you fall in?" Dwayne asks with a laugh at the sight of the boy. The large shirt they'd cut down to size that still hung off his small frame was soaked, a smear of red, slimy algae coating the lower edge. His shorts, that were at least made for his small stature, are no better, wet on the front at the backside. There's sand coating Laddie's legs up to his knees and crusted on his forearms. Dwayne will end up brushing out his hair later and come away with enough to make a sandcastle, he's sure.

Laddie is grinning from ear to ear, though. He rushes to Dwayne, barefoot on the deserted beach. The epitome of a child in summer.

"Paul was giving me a piggy back ride and Marko pushed him and we all fell in the water!" Laddie says as he comes close.

Dwayne raises an eyebrow and looks up, to the pair further down the way. Paul and Marko are dancing around each other, feet barely touching the surf as the waves flow and ebb, pants rolled up to their knees and similarly barefoot to avoid soggy boots. They laugh, call each other names that Dwayne is glad Laddie is out of earshot for, and attempt to toss each other into the waves - or failing that, throwing gobs of wet sand at each other. Their jackets are stashed at the bikes that they'd parked up the dunes, where the beach turns into rocky outcroppings overlooking the little curve of hidden cove.

Up there, the glow of a lit cigarette brightens and dims with each pull on it, David huffing out the smoke as he watches the dark ocean and his pack, away from the grit and dampness.

Dwayne thinks priss, and even from this distance, he can see David pause in his smoking and shoot a look down at him. Dwayne just smirks and turns back to Laddie.

"Find anything good before they started being idiots?" He asks.

Laddie nods, and holds up the plastic yellow toy bucket in his hands, rattling its contents. Inside is a collection of shells and stones, glinting under the moonlight, washed clean.

"Uh huh! They showed me the best tide pools. Look! Paul even found some alive snails!"

Laddie reaches in and wedges one off the side of the bucket where it had been attempting to make its escape, the creature sliding wetly back into its shell to hide at his touch. The shell is striped orange and brown and faintly pink at the edges, pretty. Dwayne hums his approval at the treasure, though knowing Laddie might want to toss it back when he's told he can either let it die and keep the shell, or have to give it up anyway because, according to David, "Marko's flying rats are enough."

Dwayne glances into the bucket, pawing through them himself to see what else Laddie had managed to find.

A good handful of seaglass, blues and browns, worn smooth and frosty with the endless sands and waters. There were a good number of cockle shells, small and grey and pretty, a couple spiraling augers like little unicorn horns, a broken half of a scallop, and cowry shells jingling like coins in his palm. One, two, three four, five-

Dwayne closes his eyes, and takes a breath, banishing the numbers from his head. Waiting until the urge to count, count, count passed.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees something else, near the bottom of the bucket, grey and round and unassuming.

Dwayne reaches in and pulls it out, tugging off some seaweed clinging to it, scraping off the sand coating the inside so the pearly white interior is better seen.

A clam shell, dead and empty, but still attached by the connecting hinge.

"Hey Laddie," Dwayne says, "do you wanna hear a story?"

Laddie, previously entranced with the crawl of the whelk on his hand, leaving wet little trails along his skin, looks up.

"Yeah!" He nods his head, long sun-streaked hair flying around his ears. Dwayne reaches out and hooks a truly wayward lock behind his ear. If he wasn't careful he'd start to look like a mini Paul, and then where would they be.

Dwayne rubs the clam shell between his thumb and finger, and the words come quietly.

"A long time ago, when the world was very new, there was Raven. And because the world was so new, Raven was alone."

He lets the count of each pass of his fingers keep the words from catching behind his teeth. Letting them pass.

"One day, Raven flew down to the beach, where he watched the waves come in and out. He didn't find anything new, anything to catch his interest. He very well may have left, if something new hadn't caught his sight, at the last moment."

Laddie tilts his head, eyes intent, on Dwayne and the shell.

"There was a clam shell in the sand, but not like any other shell Raven had ever seen. It moved around, wiggling like no clam ever did. There was something in it."

"What?" Laddie asks, the conspiratorial tone Dwayne had unintentionally adopted having wormed into his own curiosity. Dwayne smiles with him. Leaning in a little. Thirty one passes of his thumb, thirty two passes, thirty three-

"Well, Raven flies down, and he lands on the shell. He pecks it, he prods it, he tries to see it all. And when he tries to open it, a hand comes out! Inside the clam shell are creatures that Raven has never seen before. Very strange looking, too. Bare skin instead of fur or feathers or scales, and just one patch of long black hair, the same color as him. When they see Raven, they are very afraid, and want to stay in the shell, but Raven calls them out. The world is very big, but Raven wants friends, and eventually, they emerge. The first people in the world."

As he has spoken, Dwayne's soothing of the shell hasn't stopped, the numbers in his head keep ticking up. He's smiling down at the shell in his hand, hearing the hush of the ocean nearby. The words come easy, as a scar on his palm catches on the edge of the clam.

"That's a funny story," Laddie says. His smile has turned into a little contemplative frown, shifting from foot to foot as he waits for Dwayne to finish.

Dwayne blinks.

"Yeah, it is, huh."

"Hey! Laddie! Over here!"

Laddie turns around as Paul calls out from down the beach, he and Marko crouching by some big, flat rocks, poking at a pool. Waving to him to come and see and fill his bucket more.

Dwayne breathes.

"If you find any more shells small enough, you can ask nicely for Marko to make them into a bracelet for you," Dwayne tells Laddie, standing up properly. Laddie's eyes sparkle at the idea, and he nods vigorously again, hair flying back out of place from his ear. He's off before Dwayne can reach out to put it back, legs kicking up sand as he runs, bucket of finds swinging.

Dwayne watches him go, and only realizes he's still holding the clam shell when the edge digs into his fingers. Held too tight in his hand.

Looking back out at the dark ocean, Dwayne pulls his arm back, and throws.

-

"Laddie-!" Star exclaims, eyes wide from where she'd looked up from her seat on the bed. She tosses aside the book she'd been reading to rush up to Dwayne.

Laddie is in his arms, barely awake. "Relax, Star," Dwayne shrugs. "It's summer. Let him live, huh?"

Star pointedly looks over the boy, covered in leftovers of the night's escapade from head to foot. Sea salt and sand and stained shirt, hair tied back with a bit of dried kelp of all things - matching Paul's own hair, evidence of the culprit of such a silly thing. A faint smile still on his face as his hands barely keep hold of his bucket.

With a sigh, Star just reaches forward and gently lays a hand on Laddie's back. "Fine. But you're washing it all tomorrow. Child included."

"Fair enough."

[deityoftherain]

Oceanfolk Tradition made for Empires SMP S1 Lore

Bestowal is something my friend (@welcome-back-to-hoimycraf) and I came up with together. We went crazy in DMs just building up a tradition that I wanted to include in this fic (more info about it on Tumblr) when we didn't need to but when have we ever been sane about our block people and worldbuilding?

Just because I don't think I will be able to use it to its full extent in this series (I might/will probably recycle it and use it in the future for other oceanfolk fics as needed but some of these I don't see myself ever using it BUT THEY EXIST SEE I THOUGHT ABOUT IT ALL), I will share my notes of it that are in my worldbuilding/planning document. Copy and paste, my beloved.

Bestowal: Oceanfolk give shells to those they care about and they wear them on their person as a display of their love. They start wearing them and giving them out when winter turns into spring. There are different shells to show different types of appreciation, care, and love. Oceanfolk tend to wear a lot of shells on their clothing. The shells given are worn as necklaces/bracelets/hairpieces/etc for the spring and they are later sewn into clothes. The shells are passed down and reused, meaning many oceanfolk wear shells their ancestors had worn before. When they don’t want them anymore, there are take-a-shell leave-a-shell spots. Oceanfolk can trade shells there, donate shells they don't want, or take shells to be able to use if they can’t go out to find their own for whatever reason or if they just want extra for xyz.

Shell Code for ^: https://naplesseashellcompany.com/shell-types.html cowries/olives - for those you would like to acknowledge but don’t know well such as coworkers and classmates! They are common and they are the kind of thing you have children gather for activities when teaching them about the tradition bonnets - to give to those you want to know better for xyz reason strombus - to give to those you look up to or respect in your community, showing appreciation as a fan of sorts, etc (those such as teachers, guards, healers, performers, etc) spindle/tibia - (look like sperm soooo) related to sex and fertility however they want to interpret that (your friend with benefits, pregnancy announcement, telling them you want to have sex, etc) tritons/frog - for friends and other platonic relationships turritellas - for familial relationships such as parents, siblings, children, cousins, etc miters/auger - for romantic relationships that you want to get into (if you’re really bold) or to acknowledge an existing one abalones - reserved for engagements and formally committed relationships (marriage basically)

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Unlocking the full potential of Auger electron spectroscopy

Auger electron spectroscopy (AES) is an incredibly useful technique for probing material samples—but current assumptions about the process ignore some of the key time-dependent effects it involves. So far, this has resulted in overly-simplified calculations, which have ultimately prevented the technique from reaching its full potential. In a study published in The European Physical Journal Plus Alberto Noccera at the University of British Columbia, Canada, together with Adrian Feiguin at Northeastern University, United States, developed a new computational approach which offers a more precise theoretical description of the AES process, while taking its time dependence into account. Their method could help researchers to improve their quality of material analysis across a wide array of fields: including chemistry, environmental science, and microelectronics. In the Auger process, an inner-shell electron is initially kicked out of its atom, often through an impact with an energetic light pulse. Afterward, the vacancy it leaves behind is filled by an outer-shell electron.

Read more.

[squiddokiddo]

Favourite types of shells!!!

Yours, but also Squirts and Gordon’s if you wish! And any beachy headcanons you happen to have.

I do think Gordon would be very fun to hang out with and go looking in rock pools and would answer enthusiastic questions about sea creatures equally enthusiastically!

Ohh difficult question. I love seashells but I live nowhere near a beach so I don't get to see many very often, just muddy rivers and lakes around here. (;^^)

When I was younger, my mum used to scuba dive a lot in her free time and she brought me back some cool shells. One I remember was a shell from a type of snail I think and it had these pinkish stripes and would turn pearlesent in water. I really liked that shell, I think mum still has it.

Gordon's favourite type of seashells are probably anything with an animal inside, he's picking them up on the beach and flipping them over to check for stranded critters that need a little help to get back to the ocean. Gords sometimes picks up empty shells to make jewelry out of, he uses string, leather and other bits and pieces that wash up on shore like sea glass and driftwood. He's also made some décor and ornaments, with help from Virgil, some of which sit around the Tracy household as well as one being gifted to Lady P.

I think Gordon would like cowries as an aesthetic choice like cowrie bangles and bracelets, both he and Squirt would have cowrie and sea glass friendship bracelets.

Squirt would like anything with bright colours or unusual shapes like auger shells and starfish (not actually a shell but I'm including it anyway) they also like looking for fossils along the Tracy Island beaches.

.⊹*𖦹🫧🪸🐚𖦹*⊹.

[detective-inspector-her]

🖕for valkyrie?? :D (i promise im not flipping you off /gen)

Ok so this has been circling around my brain space for a while, so bare with me, because it might stray away from the ask. If you've watched Owl House or Stranger Things, you'd have heard of Eda's Orphanage or Steve being a mum. Stuff like that, but with Valkyrie. Omen, Alice, Auger, Never. Her kids now, they keep getting into danger and she needs to be right there otherwise they'd clearly die. Alice is smarter than the damn teens when it comes to survival for gods sake! She is forced to co-parent Omen with Crepuscular Vies against her will. Omen is very against it, but they have a truce when it comes to him.

Now the anger bit.

Anyone hurts those kids now that Valkyrie's healed a bit and is coming out of her shell? They probably won't be alive much longer. Because while she doesn't like killing, she's not having them get the same kind of injures that she used to get. And also bad guys don't go down like they used to and it's annoying.

I also think that 'hurting her kids' extends to the parents of said kids. So Omen & Auger's parents are on very. thin. ice. Crepuscular agrees with this sentiment.

[pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid]

If you're still taking moodboard requests, could I request an Octavian moodboard with an ocean/mediterranean aesthetic, specifically auger shells because, you know

Ahhhh yesss!!

Ocean + Auger shells + Octavian

[prospitian-monarch]

Under the cut: my palamedes' sollux DNA proof, recently unearthed while rummaging through tazmuir's fanfic for vrisrezi quotes (vote vrisrezi here!).

@diamond-rings-and-gutter-bones as per request. (note if you want to see me talk more about tlt or post with any regularity you'll have to find me at my main at @augerer!)

Also please note I've turned off reblogs on this post because I don't want to be misconstrued as trying to get into discourse about tlt being homestuck fanfic with the serial numbers filed off, which for the record i think is completely untrue. although as you've been mentioned i think you can reblog if you'd like to reply!

From "The Last Hearing of Gamzee Makara", urbananchorite:

Kanaya is mopping a little at the cracked goggles with an embroidered handkerchief, smelling luminous, clean. “Sollux was a marvel,” she says, with surprising warmth.

From Gideon the Ninth:

"Sextus was a marvel," admitted Harrow. "Too bad you didn't marry him. You're both into old dead chicks."

(second line maintained for the Aradia comparison).

From "BL4CK HOL3, green 2un", urbananchorite:

The story is a terezi-narrated oneshot about the moment when Sollux dies piloting the meteor through the veil. I think it illustrates well the type of Sollux characterization that ua and e.g. paratactician generally had (not entirely the same as canon sollux) which is specifically what palamedes has the vibe of. Also there's the very similar line at the end.

Blood comes in great mustardy gouts from his empty eyeholes. It fills up his goggles and squelches out the rims, khaki on cranberry. It leaks out his nose and you know his screams without hearing them; not from the pain, but as acceleration. You know what he’s like, don’t you? His mind is cracking its whip to never mind his shell, his meat, where the hell did they ever get him. They’re bullshit. An ecstasy of contempt. Do it, asshole, do it, do it. You think you can hear his bloodpusher pounding, quicker and quicker, hurling itself against his ribcage with beating wings. You think you pinpoint when it starts to give; when it misses those first few beats and he screams through them, the moment when at last Sollux Captor’s heart bursts. The remaining ten seconds he runs on adrenaline and wild, maniac stubbornness, his mind running up a bill that his body can't pay. His mind skips town, his mind goes running far into the distance. There's so much light. You swear you can see it. [. . .] Sollux becomes a falling star.

From Gideon the Ninth:

"Yes," said Palamedes. "I also know you must have studied radical thanergetic fission, so you know what happens when a necromancer disperses their entire reserve of thanergy very, very quickly." [. . .] The sickroom exploded into white fire, and the bonds pinning Gideon snapped. She fell hard against the wall and spun, drunkenly, lurching back down the corridor as Palamedes Sextus made everything burn [. . .] She ran for her life down the long corridors, past the ancient portraits and crumbling statues, the grave goods of the tomb of Canaan House, the mechanisms of this feeble shitty machine crumbling as Palamedes Sextus became a god-killing star.

[thenativetank]

Native Fish Hunting - Interlude!

Well, so if you were wondering why I was quiet this past week, it's because I was on vacation! This time we went to Pensacola FL, which while a nice area, isn't exactly known for the wildlife. We went fishing and kayaking and I did find some neat things - I broke out my pictures into two posts, hopefully with some stuff you find interesting!

One of the kind of bummer-ish parts about this area, at least compared to other Gulf Coast cities I've stayed in, was the lack of shells washing up on the shores. In Sanibel you could find tons of different species, many still living. Here, mostly you find small scatterings of broken shells and that's about it. I did find some of these cool Auger snail (Hastula spp) where the waves crash down into the shore, still alive. After a photo opp, back into the water they go.

Not a lot of seaweed either. I managed to find a little of this Broad-Leaved Gulfweed (Sargassum fluitans) washed up but very little else. I guess there's good and bad in that. Funny enough, the FL Saltwater fishing regulations did have rules about taking saltwater seaweeds home with you, and from that I was hopeful about finding Caulerpa, Halimaeda, or Penicillus species, but no luck.

We did manage to dig up a few Sand Crabs (Lepidopa benedicti) here, but most of them were tiny. This was a good size specimen though it was only the shell. Still, I have good memories of digging similar species out of the sand back in Maryland where I grew up, so I always enjoyed these guys.

We went fishing for a few hours with rod and reel on one of the days - but didn't catch anything. Across the entire beach I only saw one person catch one fish. There's a reason R&R is not my favorite method of catching, and shore fishing is decidedly harder I've found. Mom actually caught this one in a sand sifter while we were lounging. I believe this might be a Florida Pompano (Trachinotus carolinus) but I'd be lying if I said I could tell definitively at this size.

We had a Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) visit us while fishing, waiting for us to catch a meal for him. I appreciate the vote of confidence, my feathered friend!

[persephoneshellhounds]

Such a classic mortal blunder to lay my spine as it erodes, graceless, inelegant on Galatea’s cold, ivory arms; such delicate carvings can never be human, look human, feel human under my lonesome bones.

I long to see you flinch and break into fine, liquid, rain of dust blinding me, covering the walls of this room in a blameless shade of white: a new asylum ward for my kind of insanity, you say.

It envelopes like light around my awe and my forlorn limbs, tangled with Galatea’s unmoving ones. I look for comfort within brittle carcasses scraped of everything they could ever give.

The quiet persists eerily.

But here, Pygmalion’s gifts remain untainted: the apex of auger shells, the beak of a songbird the blunted ceriths, the rusty chisels all impaling my spinal bones. Yet the sculptor’s kisses, long erased, the careful carvings, long defaced, long reduced into a Grecian ruin. I bury my body on your arms yet they find no rest against the ghostly pleas of mammalian tusks.

How many for your fingers? How many for your hair?

Tell me, Galatea, were you carved to bear the weight of all the sea salt I swallowed as I drowned? Soften under my meandering thoughts; I long to see you flinch and break — like all the dead elephants — any reminder that you yield pliantly to the voice of the love goddess, that you were once turned human. Break now, your solid arms, under my own collapse over the sea foam caught on fire.

I am no longer bending and weeping to pick myself up. Here it all goes down and ends: my bones, and yours, burning, snapping. Nothing — nothing less glorious will last after us.

— Fray Narte, "Galatea" | written October 18, 2022, 1:35 pm

Art: Cesari Giuseppi (Cavaliere D'Arpino), The Triumph Of Galatea, 1760 | Manipulated using Picsart