#Coloring Admixtures

[nnctales]

Types of Admixtures in Concrete: Enhancing the Performance and Versatility of a Building Material

Concrete is the lifeblood of modern construction. Its adaptability, strength, and durability make it a cornerstone of the built environment. But to achieve specific properties and improve performance, various additives known as admixtures are used. Admixtures are materials other than cement, water, and aggregates that are added to concrete either before or during its mixing. They offer an array…

[vakarians-babe]

The above image, a reproduction of a study for a much larger painting, serves as a primary example of the flourishing of the Highever parochial style following the coronation of Queen Consort Talvinder Kaur Theirin, originally of House Cousland. Itself one of many offshoots of the post-occupation renaissance style, Highever parochial, like most regional styles, eschews Orlesian academic sensibilities while appropriating various elements of composition and finishing unique to the court painters of Val Royeaux. More specifically, Highever parochial is an example of the combination of the freer brushstrokes and domestic moments associated with post-occupation renaissance styles and the bright colors and decorative embellishments known to all connoisseurs of Hasmali art. This admixture is a unique result of the enthusiastic patronage of the Cousland Teyrnir, and the popularity of the workshop of Jaspreet Singh in Highever City.

An excerpt from Ottilie Marchand’s Study of Contemporary Fereldan Art, used as a textbook throughout the various academies of the Free Marches, as well as some of the more avant-garde Orlesian institutions.

[vestaignis]

Бирюзовая Катунь достопримичательность Горного Алтая.

Turquoise Katun is a landmark of the Altai Mountains.

Самая длинная и полноводная в Горном Алтае река Катунь начинается с ледника Геблера у подножия Белухи, и заканчивается в месте слияния с Бией и впадения в Обь. Протяженность — 668 километров. Вода всегда холодная, в жаркие дни ее температура поднимается до 15 градусов. 

Особенностью этой реки считают смену цвета в течение года. Так в весенний и лет��ий периоды воды имеют грязный молочный оттенок, что связывают с примесью мелкой породы из-под ледников, питающих реку. Осенью же вода становится прозрачной с бирюзовым оттенком из-за зелено-каменных включений от песчанников в верхнем и среднем участках Катуни.  Самая прозрачная, чистая и бирюзовая вода в реке бывает зимой. Большая часть реки зимой замерзает, но на порогах бурные воды Катуни выдерживают серьёзные морозы.

Место слияния Катуни и реки Бии славится своей красотой. Это связанно с тем, что воды Катуни имеют зеленоватый или бирюзовый цвет, а Бии — белый. Смешение воды в летнее время на определенном участке не происходит и выглядит как «полосатое течение». В месте впадения одной реки в другую расположен остров, который носит статус особо охраняемой природной территории.Также месту слияния рек придают мистическое значение старообрядцы, cчитая, что именно здесь состоится последняя битва добра и зла.

The longest and deepest river in the Altai Mountains, the Katun River, begins from the Gebler glacier at the foot of Belukha, and ends at the confluence with the Biya and the confluence with the Ob. Length - 668 kilometers. The water is always cold; on hot days its temperature rises to 15 degrees.

The peculiarity of this river is the change of color throughout the year. Thus, in the spring and summer, the waters have a dirty, milky tint, which is associated with the admixture of small rock from under the glaciers that feed the river. In autumn, the water becomes clear with a turquoise tint due to green-stone inclusions from sandstones in the upper and middle sections of the Katun. The most transparent, clean and turquoise water in the Katun River occurs in winter. Most of the river freezes in winter, but the rapids can withstand severe frosts.

The confluence of the Katun and the Biya River is famous for its beauty. This is due to the fact that the waters of the Katun are greenish or turquoise, and the Biya is white. Mixing of water in the summer does not occur in a certain area and looks like a “striped current”. At the confluence of one river and another there is an island, which has the status of a specially protected natural area. Old Believers also attach mystical significance to the confluence of rivers, believing that this is where the last battle of good and evil will take place.

Источник://itonga.ru/russia/reka-katun/,

//usadba2.ru/look/reka-katun-legendy-i-krasoty-gornoy-reki,

//sportishka.com/turizm/17422-golubaja-katun-gornyj-altaj.html,

/www.vpoxod.ru/page/toponym/katun,

/akkem-tur.ru/stati/reki-altaya/reka-katun/, http://www.sayanring.ru/guide/city/view/44/.

[blackbackedjackal]

Saw this on Reddit, could this be a coydog? https://www.reddit.com/r/animalid/comments/105o3g4/local_residents_page_in_mi_cant_decide_if_this_is/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf

I don’t know much about them as I don’t have coyotes in my country but I love learning form your account and seeing the massage variation in them, thank you for posting

So here's the picture of the coyote in question:

And images of the subspecies in that area, Canis latrans thamnos:

The Great Lakes/Northeastern coyotes are one of my favorite subspecies. They have a very unique skull shape and build since they're in this transitional space between the western subspecies and the Eastern Coyote (Canis latrans "var.").

Red coyotes are a very common morph among Eastern coyote subspecies. You see them in almost every Eastern state, and especially within the Northeastern subspecies. Though the theory is that this coloration was introduced into coyote population from dogs, many Northeasterns seem to be this color because it's just beneficial to the environment they live in. I'd need to find the image but there's a trial cam photo of a Northeastern coyote in the woods up there and it blends almost perfectly into the landscape. Coyotes are known for being incredibly adaptable and, as we've seen in Eastern Coyotes, if it's an adaptation they benefit from in a particular area, it spreads realtivly quickly through the populations. I've also wondered if because they look very dog-like from a distance is why you see a lot of them in urban environments (little bit of urban camouflage because the average person would see that color and think they're dogs, so they're left alone and can spread those genes). Here's a group of red Northeastern ones living in downtown Chicago:

There's nothing about the image of that coyote to make me think it's a high content coydog. Read through a lot of the comments on reddit and all these "dog traits" people are looking at are just traits common within that subspecies. I haven't seen a ton of studies done on the Northeastern subspecies but the Eastern Coyotes which are more know for hybridization are still predominantly coyote with admixtures of dog, gray wolf, and eastern wolf within thier lineage. Basically, unless the animal is captured and tested, it's a safer bet to consider it a coyote until proven otherwise.

There was a black coyote that caused a big scene several years ago who was seen actively playing with and befriending dogs. The public was convinced he was a coydog because of his coloration and behavior. He was eventually captured and taken to a conservation center and samples from him were sent to UC Davis. No recent dog lineage was found. He was just a black coyote. His name's Carmine and he's adorable btw

There's also this little lad who was tested and is confirmed to be an F1 coydog. From a distance he would look like a typical coyote, but he's half border collie.

Morphology alone is not the best indicatator for whether or not coyotes have high content of dog or wolf in them, especially if you aren't aware of the differences between the subspecies. Genetic testing is the only way to 100% confirm whether they do or not. Just from that one pic and knowing what area the coyote is from, I definitely think it's a just Northeastern coyote.

[scarlet--wiccan]

I have a friend that is half Roma and she explained to me that Romanis are a very diverse population with different ethnics groups having completly diferent traits. How do you think is the best way to tackle that in the comics without being stereotypical ? For example we have Wanda who is dark-skin but we have Nightwing who is probably 1/4 Romanichal (which is considered "white passing" ?) But is portrayed as a dark-skin Roma is many fan arts because this is the steryotype that people associate the Roma's with.

So, I just want to clear up some of the vocabulary here-- first, Wanda and Pietro are not "dark-skinned," by an measure. In current Marvel comics, their skin color usually ranges from an olive tone to like a medium brown, at most. Second, being brown is not a "stereotype." We usually use that word to describe images or pre-conceived notions which are harmful, reductive, or simply not factual. Racial caricatures, which may include skin tone, are offensive, but there is nothing inherently wrong or harmful about drawing people of color with brown skin.

Brown-- and Black-- Romani people are actually underrepresented in American media, and have been for a very long time. This is exclusionary, and it contributes to the manufactured ignorance that American audiences have towards Romani people. The push to depict more Romani characters as visible people of color is about inclusion and authenticity. It is a net positive.

There are a lot of Romani characters in Marvel and DC comics, and most of them are not from the same countries or vitsi. So, ideally, there should be a lot of diversity in how these characters look, sound, and identify. Currently, there is almost none-- the majority of them are white-presenting, which is limiting and harmful, and most references to their heritage and upbringing conform to recognizable tropes. That's the real stereotype here. Should some of these characters have lighter skin or be white-presenting? Yes, but they have to exist alongside a variety of characters who are not.

You are correct that the Romani diaspora is very diverse. It is comprised of distinct groups with distinct histories, which each hold their own identities, speak their own dialects, etc. A lot of people don't realize this, but the Romani communities in Europe did not all arrive at the same time, or by the same route, and of course we've been settled in different parts of the continent for centuries, and in fact live all over the world. So you can imagine that there is a lot of variety when it comes to racial admixture. It's also important to understand that, within the culture, Romani identity is not determined by one's racial makeup. We exist in every part of the world and intersect with every race, and we are Rom because we are Rom, not because of what we look like. We can look like anything.

[vedimin]

I finished the sketch with Hua Cheng

🖇A few of my thoughts🖇

I thought about who he could be in my universe, spent quite a long time rummaging through different sites with mythical creatures and decided to settle on the “Tiefling” race.

A person with partial demonic blood, who is often an outcast and a loner, is very suitable for Hua, don’t you think?

In my AU, Hua Cheng is strong in both magic and braininess, so I think he is still the very first discoverer of robotics and its compatibility with the body, but he uses all his developments only for his own purposes and purely for himself.

Dachshunds, features:

- the right eye is an artificial one, which Hua himself created and developed for a long time.

- Hua often collects thin plates of magic on top of the robot eye to increase the abilities of her eye.

- since he is mixed with a demon, he has small horns, clawed hands with black fingertips and nails, and a tattoo of lines on his body.

- the skin is grayish and always cold.

- with strong outbursts of emotions, the hair becomes enveloped in a black haze, the eyes light up scarlet, just like the tattoo on the body.

- scarlet with an admixture of black flashes is the distinctive color of his magic.

Hua also has, so to speak, pets, which he also created himself, butterflies, with the help of which he often monitors what is happening around him or collects information.

I’m still thinking about what to do with Emin and how he can be included here. Perhaps also some kind of robotic beast, or maybe a magical familiar like Xie Lian’s.

Well, that’s all for now, next will be his husband, of course😋

Я закончила набросочек с Хуа Чэном

🖇Немножечко моих мыслей🖇

Я поразмыслила над тем кем он мог бы быть в моей вселенной, довольно долго шарилась по разным сайтам с мифическими существами и решила ��становиться на расе "Тифлинг"

Человек с частичной примесью демонической крови, который зачастую является изгоем и одиночкой, очень подходит к Хуа, не думаете?

У меня в АУ Хуа Чэн силён и в магии и, в мазговитости, поэтому думаю, он все-таки самый первый из открыватилей робототехники, и ее совместимости с телом, но все свои разработки он использует только в своих целях и чисто для себя.

Такс, особенности:

- правый глаз является искусственным, который Хуа сам создал и долго разрабатывал.

- поверх робоглаза Хуа зачастую собирает тонкие пластины магии для увеличения способностей своего глаза.

- так как он с примесью демона, у него имеются небольшие рожки, когтистые руки с чёрными кончиками пальцев и ногтей, а на теле тату в виде линий.

- кожа сероватого оттенка и всегда холодная.

- при сильных всплесках эмоций волосы обыолакиваются черной дымкой, глаза загораются алым как и тату на теле.

- алый с примесью чёрных всполахов отличительный цвет его магии.

Так же у Хуа имеется, так сказать, питомцы, которых он так же создал сам, бабочки с помощью которых он частенько отслеживает что происходит вокруг или собирает информацию.

Еще думаю что сделать с Эмином и как его можно сюда вписать. Возможно тоже какой нибудь робо-зверь, а может и волшебный фамильяр как у Се Ляня.

Ну и пока что все, следующим будет конечно же его муж😋

[carterashofficial]

So, what is the difference between concrete and cement? I genuinely didn't know there was one.

Okay so 1- I'm not sober right now and 2- Concrete was one of my top 3 favorite college classes (along with botany and architectural history from early gothic to 1700s-ish. yes i had a concrete class. it was required for my major)

So *Cement (the OG stuff) is like. old as balls. its been used since the dawn of time and is like. water+ chalky rock stuff. it's got the structural integrity of a saltine cracker, so if you touch it wrong it crumbles, much like my self esteem.

Then the Roman came along, looked at *Cement, and thought "i wanna make it better" and then went and invented Concrete. The One True Big Deal OverPowered Concrete recipe used in Ancient Rome has unfortunately been lost to time. However- we know the basics. Cement + Water + Fly Ash + Aggregate (you might be thinking "hang on, cement is in concrete?" it always has been). So what are these things?

Cement: the basic ingredient. its cement.

Water: H2O preferably in liquid form

Fly Ash: well-done charcoal in a Supremely Fine Powder

Fine Aggregate: sand, essentially.

Coarse Aggregate: small-medium gravel

So you mix all of these things together and you get Concrete. Unlike the fragile cement, Concrete doesn't give a damn how you touch it unless you're a jackhammer. if cement is the crumbly saltine cracker, concrete is a graham cracker. Stronger, heavier, and overall better.

back to Ancient Rome.

So Concrete has been Invented and those Romans use it to build the Colosseum, because they could and no one could stop them. deep at the bottom of the Colosseum are concrete walls like 9 feet deep. Because their structural engineering can be summed up as "lets make it an arch" and that was it. It was the only way to hold up all those wall and different levels above.

You might now be thinking "hang on Carter, why don't other giant modern buildings not have 9' deep concrete walls. b/c thats ridiculous" It's because the Romans excelled at a lot of things, however they did not use rebar. rebar in concrete started in the 1800s, which led to the boom of Tall Buildings across the globe. Like the first Skyscraper was only 10? stories.

So now we have Concrete + Rebar. just about all Concrete you see in the wild has rebar in it. your sidewalk? rebar. Driveway? rebar. the in-ground pool? Rebar.

But in that below ground pool, its not just concrete. it's Concrete + Additives/Admixtures.

Additives/Admixtures: fancy schmancy chemically engineered compounds to change various things about the concrete, such as:

Concrete cures slower

Concrete handles the expansion/contraction of ice/water better

Concrete has a different Heat of Hydration temp

Colored Concrete (i've seen red for fire lines, aka STOP DIGGING)

Before I continue, i need to explain Heat of Hydration. when the cement, the primary ingredient in concrete, cures (goes from gloop to solid), it lets off heat. it gets hot. Spicy Cement. This is why when you get cement/concrete on your clothes or skin, you're supposed to wash it off ASAP. its corrosive AF and will give you a chemical burn. which like, no bueno. supremely no bueno.

So now you know of Cement and it's better, stronger child: Concrete.

Cement is the flour of the cake that is concrete. Flour + Water? sad saltine cracker. Flour + Water + Sugar? Graham Cracker. Flour + Water + Egg + Sugar? Cake.

You mix your cement with water and aggregates and fly ash and then you've got your concrete. to make it Extra Strong, pour it over rebar. And then wash off wherever it splashed.

Now my final note: in stores across the US you can find bags of lies called 'Quikcrete'. these are not concrete. these are cement. There is no aggregates. no admixtues or additives. Despite the wrong name its a decent product. holds up fence posts really well even when you have a dog that spent 11 years trying to become one with the fence.

Now next time someone complains about the 'cement' or whatnot being chipped, you can turn to them, the soul of an ancient roman engineer in your eyes, and go "its concrete"

[maxparkhurst]

From the recordings of M. Park Experiment ID: 3475 Date: Aug. 25th, 41 L.C.

The clip begins with a few beats of silence. It is quiet enough to hear the bubble of admixture and the scribble of quill upon parchment. A woman’s voice, low and rich, breaks the quiet. She speaks in a subtle accent, Tirisian. There is no frivolity, only a scalpel-sharp introduction.

MAX: The date is August twenty-fifth, year forty-one of the Lotharian Calendar. My brother, Augustine Parkhurst-

A young man’s voice chimes in. It is much brighter than the woman’s and also much quieter. He shares the same subtle accent.

AUGUSTINE: C-can it just be Auggie? Is that fine?

An audible sigh from the woman is followed by another beat of silence. The woman continues.

MAX: My brother, Auggie Parkhurst, and I, Max Parkhurst, begin trials on the unknown toxin numbered thirty-four seventy-five.

AUGUSTINE: Otherwise known as “Breathing Putrescence.”

MAX: No one is calling it that. That is not its name.

AUGUSTINE: It’s profound.

MAX: It’s really not.

AUGUSTINE: It’ll be easier to remember than-

The woman steamrolls over the man, continuing her previous introduction.

MAX: We begin our trials on this unknown toxin. It was brought in by Unit Eight Director, Kat Hawke. Agents in the field extracted a sample from the secreting blister of one Zion Tindall’s victims. No cadaver presented. Further background information limited upon delivery. What we do know is that victims have been found in the Westfall region. No particular genotype. They are found with abscesses and severe chemical burns, both internal and external. We theorize administration to be injection.

AUGUSTINE: The toxin is kept in a vial of treated glass.

A faint chime rings, like someone tapping on a window pane. The man chitters a laugh.

AUGUSTINE: It is quite sturdy. Such quality is often reserved for volatile substances. An excellent example is Alchemist Fire. The mixture composing Alchemist Fire ignites when exposed to air, thus they require a double-chamber vial made of treated glass. This toxin uses much the same design. From that, we can infer that it is highly reactive to air. Now, the question is whether its reaction mirrors Alchemist Fire. Erm- Would you like the honors, Max?

MAX: You’re capable. Go on.

AUGUSTINE: R-right. Of course.

The vial uncorks with deft ‘pop’. More silence is followed by a peal of uncertain laughter from the man.

AUGUSTINE: I-it appears not! First observation- the toxin can be exposed to open air.

MAX: Excellent. Go ahead and s- Augustine. Please. Don’t shake it.

AUGUSTINE: Hm? Oh. It’s fine. See? Look at that reaction. Feels rather warm to the touch. No particular odor. A slight change in color. Oh. Hrm. Th-that’s…. Huh. It’s actually hot to the touch.

MAX: Set it down, Auggie.

AUGUSTINE: Y-yeah. Okay. Let me- Oh my stars. It’s moving in there. Why is- AH!

Glass shatters. A throng of curses is drowned out by the shifting of furniture and a cacophony of feet. The man’s shrieks are almost too high for the tape to record. Barely audible in the background, a subtle hiss akin to that of a viper.

AUGUSTINE: WHY IS IT LIKE THAT?!

MAX: I-I don’t know… Stay calm. Don’t. Touch. It.

AUGUSTINE: I-I don’t plan on it.

MAX: I’ll just. Let me grab- SHIT!

More scrambling. Another glass shatters. The hissing grows in volume. The woman barks an arsenic-sharp laugh. She sounds further away. There’s panic in her voice.

MAX: IT SPITS! THE F- IT SPITS!

AUGUSTINE: It’s going under the counter! G-grab it!

MAX: Me?! You’re closer!

AUGUSTINE: YOU’RE OLDER!

MAX: WHAT DOES THAT HAVE ANYTHIN-

The tape abruptly cuts off. It continues to roll, silent. Then, the woman’s voice plays. She sounds calmer, if not more weary. The hissing from before is muted. Contained.

MAX: It is still August twenty-fifth. Toxin thirty-four seventy-five has been captured and contained. Second observation- the toxin becomes aggravated when aerated, taking the form of…Uh. Ah…Shit. Auggie, what would you call it?

The man pipes up. His voice warbles, close to the tears it sounds.

AUGUSTINE: Evil?

MAX: Yes. But- Th-the shape, Auggie. What shape did it take? It was- Ah. Yes. A centipede. … Of sorts. It spits its own toxin. Highly corrosive. Handle with care. We…We will continue to observe and proceed with the trials. Tomorrow.

[ @kat-hawke for mentions]

[pleistocene-pride]

The Large White is a British breed of domestic pig, which is derived from the large Yorkshire breed, a long-legged and heavy-boned pig from the county of Yorkshire, in northern England. In the nineteenth century this was crossed with pigs imported from China, giving rise to three distinct types or breeds: the Small White showed the greatest Asian influence, small and fat with a markedly foreshortened snout; the Middle White also showed some foreshortening of the face; the Large White was the least obviously influenced by the Chinese admixture.  It may also have been influenced by the Cumberland and Leicestershire breeds. With the large white being recognized officially as a breed in 1868, and a herd-book was started in 1884. In turn the large white is itself the ancestor of the American Yorkshire breed. With sows reaching around 573 to 661lbs (260-300kg), and boars reaching around 772 to 838lbs (350 to 380kgs) in weight, the large white pig is big yet lean breed which is distinguished by their picturesque bearing, erect ears, slightly dished faces, white color, pink skins, and long deep sides. The large white is highly valued for its quality bacon and ham production. The Large White is regarded as a rugged and hardy breed that can withstand variations in climate and other environmental factors. Their ability to cross with and improve other breeds has truly made them a factor nearly everywhere commercial swine are produced. They are also well known for there large litter sizes of around a dozen piglets, quality milk production, and excellent maternal instincts. Under ideal conditions and large white pig may live up to 20 years.

[pilferingapples]

Bousingo Fashion: Rash Waistcoats and Scarlet Opinions

something of a companion piece to my recent post on Romantic fashions, dealing with a subset of it --specifically, the Bousingo style, or. What Would Bahorel Wear? ��

( @badassindistress​, this is for you XD)

First, for those who’ve missed my other rambles on the Bousingo/Bouzingo/Bousingots group, a quick description of their general Deal, from Jehan Valter’s account of the  premiere of Hugo’s le roi s’amuse:

No doubt, the Bousingots had fought at Hernani and broke their share of seats, but ...The Bosingouts alone were at the barricades of 1832. There is the difference between them and the Jeune-France,... while the Young-France, inspired by the Byronnian sadnesses, hid their health and their good humor under elegiac and morbid exteriors, while they were satisfied with the freedom of the enjambement, and that they dreamed of revolutions as those of art, the Bousingots manifested political sentiments of extreme violence at least in form.

There’s a LOT of room to debate this description, but it gets across the general contemporary view of the group: the street-fighters types of Romantic republicanism, or of Republican romanticism; whichever side of it you like to emphasize.  The stereotype of their character was...well, Bahorel,pretty much to the letter. Hugo knew what he was writing, down to the Rash Waistcoats. Bahorel dresses Bousingo!  which means a very identifiable and politically loaded style But what exactly did that look like?

Let’s get some more 19C quotes in here!

" ...(there was) Pétrus Borel, in “bousingot” costume of insulting originality*: Marat* waistcoat, and a pointed hat with long ribbons, descending in the middle of the back.." (Jehan Valter's account of the opening night of le Roi s'amuse)

He could be spotted from afar by his pointy, wide-brimmed grey hat, his goatee, his long hair, by his enormous red cravat that clashed with the white lapels of his Marat-style waistcoat...- George Sand, Horace

There’s already a lot going on here, but let’s start with: 

Rash Waistcoats

...the best fellow possible; he had rash waistcoats, and scarlet opinions... (LM 3.4.1)

So as far as I’ve been able to tell, a Marat waistcoat is a waistcoat with really, REALLY Extra lapels. Based on , of course, Marat, as seen in this image:

(ID: noted French revolutionary Marat wearing an extravagantly loose cravat, and a furry...jacket? with wide, spotted lapels. Very Wide. Almost sticking out further than his arms. He’s gonna put someone’s eye out with those things./end ID)

I *think* those are coat lapels--but the waistcoat named after him seems to be based on that look. Lapels for days! (note: a “Robespierre” waistcoat, like Grantaire wears, seems to be the same idea- a waistcoat with wide lapels--but not as exaggerated, and with a different cut.  Like so :

(ID: a bright red waistcoat with lapels that reach almost to the arm-scye /end ID) And you can read more about them at this excellent post! )

George Sand’s Bouzingot wears a white Marat waistcoat,but red was a more iconic color. And a very specific red! Let’s fire up the quotes again!

" In order to avoid wearing the infamous red of '93, I had admitted a slight admixture of purple into the dye, for I was very desirous not to be suspected of any political intention. I was not an admirer of Saint-Just and Maximilian Robespierre, as were some of my comrades..." -Theophile Gautier, A History of Romanticism 

The “infamous red” to avoid was scarlet, the color Bahorel definitely wears: 

Bahorel, who was like a fish in water in a riot...wore a scarlet waistcoat, and indulged in the sort of words which break everything. His waistcoat astounded a passer-by, who cried in bewilderment:--

"Here are the reds!"

The Beards

“It was my beard that saved us! my romantic beard! my pretty little romantic beard!"- Les Miserables, 3.8.12

A beard ,fine,silky,full,scented with benzoin,and cared for as a Sultan's beard might be,... A beard ! A very ordinary matter in France nowadays,but at that time there were but two in the country : Eugène Devéria's and Petrus Borel's . It required absolutely heroic self - possession and contempt of the multitude And mark that when I say beard , I do not mean mutton-chop or fin-shaped whiskers,or a tip or a tuft,but a genuine,full,complete beard,one to make a man shudder . -Theophile Gautier, A History of Romanticism

In the 1820s and 1830s (especially early 1830s) beards were incredibly Out. Men of Proper Society simply Did Not Wear Them,  Oh, they had facial hair--but not beards. 

I need you all to understand how silly this dividing line got, so I made a Diagram: 

(ID: a rough sketch of a face, showing, in order, sideburns, a moustache, a neckbeard, and all three combined; these are in green and labeled “fine”. one face has a small soulpatch-level goatee, labeled “Risky, Satan’s Chin Patch”.  The last shows a short but fully connected beard, with  facial hair covering the entire jawline, labeled “Anarchy, Riot, Doom” /End ID)

The Full Beard was Iconically Romantic and especially iconically Bouzingo Romantic, as you’ll see when we hit the caricatures. Oh boy, are there gonna be caricatures. 

The final part of this is the hat--and here, I think, it’s time to move into contemporary (and near-contemporary) illustrations. First , a fairly Subdued version of two Bouzingo meeting: 

(ID: two Bouzingo talking closely, with a Secret Handshake. They are wearing the clothes described in this post. Behind them  a policeman gestures angrily. /end ID)

I love this picture (and would love to know the provenance!) ! You can see the Marat waistcoat lapels, the beard on the one on the left, and, of course, the signature Pointy Hat. Imagine those lapels in bright scarlet, those trousers in plaids, black, or white, and the jackets in either bright blue or dark black for maximum waistcoat contrast, and you’ve got a good mental image of how this would have looked at the time. 

...You can also see the police officer telling them to move along. “Hostile Police Interaction”is also an iconic part of the Bousingo look, for obvious reasons. 

Here are some more fairly realistic, and sympathetic, pictures; these are illustrations of Laraviniere, the “Bouzingo” character in George Sand’s Horace. 

Beard, long hair, pointed hat, extravagant but loose cravat,  “Robespierre” style lapels sticking out, tight plaid pants, solid cane for whomping people in fights? It’s the whole package baby! 

I gotta include this picture too, because “naked , having grabbed a carpet, so you can come out and fight with landlords and cops” is also an Iconic Bouzingo Look. I am extremely not joking. If you’re going to care at all  about propriety , you can’t be Bousingo, and at least one group (and that led by Borel, Bahorel’s most direct inspiration) did run a nudist commune for a while!

These images are reasonably realistic,even sympathetic, portrayals. Now let’s get to the caricatures, and how people who didn’t like them saw all this. This is some of my favorite stuff, it’s hilarious:

Image: Caricature (un peu chargée) d’un “bousingot” romantique  This image, leaning heavily on the Romantic associations of the Bouzingo, brings in that Medieval-style dress I mentioned. Apart from the hat and beard, this guy doesn’t have anything particularly Bousingot about his outfit; the dramatic ruff and doublet-esque cut of his coat could go for any Romantic. But I love this picture , look how ticked off he looks!XD

I have no idea if this illo, titled “Old and New”, was supposed to be insulting, but I think it’s really charming! It’s a French Revolution-era revolutionary-- Robespierre-striped coat, knee breeches, wig or powedered hair, little cockades, etc,-- meeting a then-”new” Bouzingo, in striped trousers, a broad-lapeled tricolor waistcoat, a wide-brimmed “sombrero” type hat (also a solid Bouzingo fashion choice) , full beard (but super short hair--the other way that fashion ran,it’s either long or basically a canon-level buzzcut), and 1830s coat. The old Revolutionary carries a neat cane, and appears to be opening a snuffbox; the Bouzingo carries a fightin’ stick, and appears to be smoking a pipe made with a crowned skull holy shit I love it.  And they’re getting along just fine!  I have no idea if the vibe is supposed to be “The kids are all right! carrying on the banner!” or “ Look,the Youth of Today is trying to bring back that awful Revolution!” but either way the affinity between generations has me charmed.  (and again, we see the strong perceived political aspect to Bouzingo fashion!)

Now a couple of definitely unflattering images:

Above, from an article about “newspapers and their readers”: a Bouzingo reads Le Charivari!  as @clove-pinks​ said on the post that introduced me to this image: “Swanky, obnoxious outfit, long hair, reading Le Charivari illustrated magazine—it’s a bousingot Romantic! “ Again we’ve got the hat, the beard, the loud pants, the stick (I am dying at the stick placement omgggg) -- but you can see how the negative take on them frames them as poor (everything here is patched and broken) , dirty, and menacing. 

One more, from the same source as “Old and New”:  a whole darn group! Again, there’s the outfit geared to be provocatively tricolor, the broad sombrero style hats, a friggin Phrygian cap, a heavy stick , and beards all around. Note though the wide array of colors, especially the guy in a pink hat in the background!:D 

So there’s Bouzingo/Bozingo/Bousingo etc fashion for you! Right at the intersection of Aggressively Political and Dramatically Romantic, bright, brash-- but still leaning into (then) modern styles. This look was about knowing the modern dress code enough to send very clear and specific messages; in this case, “Ready, willing, and able to throw down for the republic at any moment”. It could be toned up or down , but it was always  LOUD (Bouzingo Means Noise!!) and it was meant to be a legible message to anyone who’d been in Paris for five minutes.  Anyone wearing this outfit (a) knows how to do Style, and they’ve chosen to wear this look , and (b) is a fighter, or is about to become one, because oh,you will get punched in this outfit.  Or arrested. Or punched and then arrested. 

But you’re gonna look incredible when it happens. 

[dawn-of-worlds]

The Sun-Divers

On Turn 7, Corobel starts with 11 points: 5 (roll) + 3 (nonhoarding) + 3 (left over)

Question: what does the candle desire from the moth?

Answer: the same thing it desires from everything else.

One version has it that the Sky made them in a failed attempt to create a human being capable of learning; another, that the admixture of the butterfly was intended to replace the ophidian and simian content of their forms, and discourage the sinful consumption of flesh; another, that their metamorphosis purged them of original sin. Whatever the case may be, it is acknowledged to have failed, wholly or in part; nevertheless, those who cut themselves free from their own skins and drop, gasping, from the branches of the Great Flowering Tree and onto the shores of the lake of blood—the many-colored, the Sun-Divers, they who have eaten and digested themselves—are something new. Thus:

Sun-Divers grow from eggs, which, though somewhat smaller than human infants, are born in largely the same way. They have a reduced rate of maternal mortality, but the eggs must be kept safe for about six months, after which they hatch into a caterpillar the size of a small child; these do almost nothing but eat and sleep for about five years, and then form a chrysalis.

The chrysalis is bare, hardened skin, traditionally swaddled in protective cloth, apotropaic eyes, and hope (and the skin hardens around them, and the flesh devours itself, and the soul devours itself, and the brain keeps forming memories for a startlingly long time; in the vivid, terrible dreams that accompany the delirium of dissolution, they see the sun calling them away, away, away from a white mountain and a cold plain, back to the agony of birth and ecstasy of color).

New adults appear around 20 years old, and acquire the power of speech in less than a week. Upon emergence, they bear a single claw, quite sharp, on their dominant hand, which is used to open the cocoon. This is normally shed within a few months.

Adult skin and hair are vividly colored, either iridescent black, some color of the rainbow, or silvery white. Their body hair is a sparse coating of feathery scales; they shed colored dust. Their tongues, through which they eat and drink, are hollow tubes, coiled inside the mouth, nearly a foot long and narrowing to the width of a finger.

An adult lives for about 60 years, barring death by disease, starvation, injury, or violence, and then metamorphoses into another adult, retaining a similar personality, some memories, and an accretion of wisdom. About half of all eggs reach a second incarnation.

This is not necessarily the end of their development, or at least not the only route that it can take. Certainly, some take on more insectile forms after many incarnations—the body becoming slighter and growing wings, the mind becoming more alien. These cases are called Imagoes. There are stranger stories yet, of Ultimate Imagoes, of implacable powers inhabiting human-shaped cocoons, of final flights into the sun, of souls and memories paid in tribute to a world yet unborn.

The influence of Naakrsh is, perhaps, lessened in the Sun-Divers: their eyes are lidded, and their pupils and irises round; they treasure color and beauty above all things; some of them are even right-handed. And, though they still dream of grandfather Naakrsh and the world before, they dream also of losing themselves in the sun, in which their souls become molten, radiant, and renewed; and they dream of another world, a clockwork world of laws and orbits, born in vast and universal light.

But they also shed their skins and devour themselves, and their souls still curl around a great void, for they are made from human beings, and they came from the fruit of the Great Flowering Tree, and what watered the roots of the tree but the blood of the great snake?

On the moon-dust shores of the red lake, around the Wanderer’s Bridge and the Great Flowering Tree, they build the city of Azimuth, which contains the distance between earth and heaven. The Tree is their holy of holies, and haughty Azimuth their Delphi or Jerusalem. Reflections are unruly here, there is an ever-present sense of being watched, and wood sometimes sprouts flowers of its own accord.

That the sun may look upon the depths below, they begin a great work, a rounded stepwell with walls of pale granite, reaching into the underworld. This is the Well of the Omphalos, which links the underworld to the world and the Moon, and conveys the sun to the night below—or, at least, to one corner of it.

What of the Prophetic Twins? Their gifts—the crown, Law, and the veil, Prophecy, still lie on the pearly shore. They have not come down from the tree; two chrysalises still hang in its highest boughs, shot through by rays of evening sun—and some, in the right kind of darkness, may see a third, there, beside them.

Command Avatar to Create Race (-1): the Great Flowering Tree bears the Sun-Divers.

Command Race (-4): the Sun-Divers build the city of Azimuth, around the Tree.

Command City (-4): in Azimuth is dug the Omphalos, an entrance to the underworld.

2 points remain.

[To clarify the avatar situation, because I reread my last post and think it was a bit unclear: the Avatar was the Twins, who have “merged” with the Tree. Also, I’m not sure whether these guys are “really” a race or a subrace of humans; it doesn’t matter, points-wise, since it’s an avatar action. Image source.]

[blackbackedjackal]

theres coyote subspecies? neat. whats your favorite?

I can't pick a favorite child

I'm really partial to the Great Lakes/Northeastern coyotes (C. l. thamnos). They're a really unique looking subspecies that also come in a beautiful array of color morphs. A lot of people mistake the morphs for high-content coydogs, but similar to Eastern coyotes, they just have dog admixture that shows up in their coat colors. Genetically they're (mostly) coyotes. They're pretty well documented by different researchers in Chicago and the surrounding areas and are surprisingly well adapted to the city and urban environments even though they're one of the larger subspecies. A lot of them live in cemeteries in the middle of the city and by the lakefront areas, then travel around the city at night. It's estimated that around 4000 of them in and near Chicago!

Some other faves as well. I can't pick one ;o;

Northwestern coyote (C. l. incolatus)

Mexican coyote (C. l. impavidus)

Wetlands coyotes (not officially documented but they're my local guys and I love them <333)

[treemaidengeek]

EXPERIMENTAL RESULTS OF PHASE II TRIALS

We can confirm that Soln. 42 does not, specifically, result in hybrid + Homo sapiens x Capra hircus. Rather, it possesses the capacity to induce drastic physiological transformation based upon traits and mutations idealized in the subconscious psyche of each subject. See fig.s 1-3 for detail of results.

79% of subjects exhibited transformations that would have been predictable had we better understood the biochemical mechanisms of Soln. 42, e.g. changes in height, hair, and/or eye color; younger and/or slimmer appearance; more pronounced and/or gender-affirming sexually dimorphic traits; removal of life-limiting medical conditions; and minor enhancements to extant human capabilities (strength, sensory perception, etc). 15% underwent no physiological changes at all.

Among the remainder we found an interesting admixture of nonhuman traits and mutations. Mammalian ears, tails, and fur featured heavily, as did various morphologies of wings. See fig. 4 for details of this diverse minority. We interviewed subject + Homo sapiens x Capra hircus from trial phase I and determined that his exceptional physiological transformations can be accounted for within the context of this category.

I remember someone saying "mad scientists in fiction aren't scientists because there's never a control group"

I think if you've created an elixir that turns people into goat men you have sort have gone past the need for a control group. The control group is not going to placebo themselves into goat men. You can probably not run the control group, and safely assume that none of them would have turned into goat men. That said, having a control group for that would make the mad scientist seem extra crazy and be really really funny, especially if he was carefully testing them for goat like features from the dyed water they drank instead of the elixir

[ganpatgrand123]

Best Restaurant In Palani

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The rooms are qualified with contemporary formalities corresponding as song activity, high- fastness Wi- Fi, exact- screen TVs, and concentrated coverlet to insure maximum comfort. also, the attention to detail in the design of the apartments — from the soothing color devices to the exactly handpicked furnishings — creates a pacifying air that makes you perceive precise at niche. Each elbow room offers a capacious restroom with accolade toiletries, guaranteeing that clients can gratify in a calming and stimulating experience.

Guests can choose from a variety of room types, including luxe Rooms, Lodges In Palani,administrative suites, and family suites, all designed to feed to varying tastes and conditions. Whether you're staying for a night or an extended period, Ganpat Grand promises to make your stay nothing short of extraordinary.

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Ganpat Grand is the perfect venue for hosting events, from commercial gatherings to marriages. With state- of- the- art feed halls that can accommodate both small and large groups, the hostel offers inflexibility for all types of events. The feed halls are designed with fineness in mind, featuring swish innards, ample lighting, and ultramodern technology to insure your event goes off without a hitch.

Whether you’re planning a business conference, a birthday festivity, or a lavish marriage event, the platoon at Ganpat Grand is committed to making your event indelible. Palani Marriage Hall, Their devoted event itineraries work with you every step of the way, icing that every detail is strictly executed. The hostel also offers a range of customizable catering options, allowing you to elect the perfect menu for your event.

In addition to the feed halls, Ganpat Grand offers fresh amenities similar as audio-visual outfit, high- speed internet, and on- point parking for guests, making it a accessible and flawless experience for everyone involved.

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One of the crucial highlights of Ganpat Grand is its exceptional caffs . Whether you're a guest staying at the hostel or a original occupant looking for a great mess, the dining options at Ganpat Grand wo n't fail.

The hostel’s caffs offer a wide variety of cookeries, from traditional original dishes to transnational pets, all prepared with the finest constituents. Whether you're in the mood for a hearty breakfast, a tardy lunch, or a epicure regale, Best Restaurant In Palani, the professed cookers at Ganpat Grand insure that every mess is a culinary delight.

The eatery air complements the food impeccably, furnishing a warm and welcoming atmosphere. With elegant innards, comfortable seating, and excellent service, dining at Ganpat Grand is further than just a mess – it’s an experience. From romantic feasts to family get- togethers, the caffs at Ganpat Grand offer the perfect setting for any occasion.

Guests can also enjoy a wide range of potables, including fine wines, amalgamations, andnon-alcoholic options, making it a great place to decompress after a long day of sightseeing or business meetings.

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What truly sets Ganpat Grand piecemeal is its commitment to furnishing exceptional service. From the moment you step into the hostel, you're saluted with warmth and professionalism. The staff is largely trained to meet the requirements of every guest, icing that your stay is as affable as possible.

Whether it’s helping you with your luggage, furnishing recommendations for original lodestones , or accommodating any special requests you may have, the platoon at Ganpat Grand goes over and beyond to insure that you feel well taken care of. Their fidelity to excellence in service ensures that every guest leaves with a smile, eager to return.

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Hotel In Palani, Whether you’re in city for business or rest, you’ll find that the hostel’s position makes it easy to explore the megacity and experience all that it has to offer.

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[maxparkhurst]

As Within, So Without

Below was truly an enchanted place. 

 Nothing like the Above. 

The Above was messy with its blinding opulence and dazzling decorum. Glasses clinked in time to an unspoken rhythm, a sea of color shifting to the orchestra’s deafening lull. The guests paraded around in their elaborate attire. Bright colors and high-contrast patterns attract the eyes of suitors and ward against the gaze of predators. They smiled through venom-dipped tongues and laughed the rage from their eyes. They spoke of power and how it wore down their soles. They spoke of wealth and how heavy it weighed around their throats. They did not hear the whipping in their voices when they talked. They didn’t hear the fear and doubt.  They didn’t know the truth.

In the Above, contradiction was law. 

Look at me. 

Don’t perceive me. 

The Alchemist preferred the simplicity of the Below. Lanterns marked the long descent into the manor’s underbelly. An eternal fire kept alive through alchemical intervention burned within them, stretching her shadow into something far larger than reality. Its presence loomed as it trailed her heels down the creaking steps. The stairs whispered comfort in her ears. And the walls, pressed so close, swallowed the chaotic din of the Above. Down, down, down. Deep underground, where the sun could not see, lay the Below. 

Unbeknownst to the partygoers Above, the Malakhov estate housed an extensive, well-furnished laboratory. The stairwell opened onto an expansive room. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, holding enough books to qualify a library of its own merit. Any book that could not fit on the shelves lay in towers around the single desk nested in the center. The study fed into an antechamber that branched into three main rooms, each connected to the other by a secret passage.  First was the drying room, where exotic plants were propagated, stored, and dried for future elixirs. Next, the distillation room and its work tables clustered with alembics and crucibles, mortars and pestles,  and vials of coalescing liquids. The final room was a testing room. Concoctions in their late stages were stored there, casting a preternatural glow across a line of cages. Beady eyes gleamed between the metal rungs. Watching. Waiting. Craving more. 

The Alchemist found comfort here. Comfort in the clatter of glass, in the chirp of rats, or in the gentle boil of admixture. The ceiling occasionally groaned, and boisterous laughter from the Above rolled down the steps. But nothing ever came down the stairs. No one to interrupt. No one to judge. Only she, the rats, and her dark shadow. Just as she liked it. 

Time passed differently in the Below. It felt more like a blended haze than a clear-cut delineation. Hours spent and lost circling the chambers - study, drying, distillation, test, and back again. Her path settled on a culture of mushrooms inside the drying room.  

Their propagation began with decay. A tree that lay rotten for weeks in the manor’s grounds provided the mycelia grains. From that, she prepared the grains and loaded them into jars. Fed them sugar and water. They spent several days under the artificial light of alchemical globes until they were ready for sterilization. Afterward, she inoculated the spores. Transferred into a still-air box to cultivate immunization. Only then could she plant them in a mineral-infused substrate. Weeks upon months of labor resulted in pock-marked fungi. With the hard parts over,  all she needed to do now was give them a gentle mist.

She watched them glisten under the lamp’s glow with a sense of fondness. Death from life. And life from death. A continuous, predictable cycle. An equal exchange. That was the law of the Below. 

But it was not its simplicity that made it an enchanted place. 

She heard it. Faint but growing strong. The rats settled in their cages, and the simmering brews spoke in hushed whispers. Alchemical lanterns flickered, and the shadows receded under the tables. All of the Below waited with bated breath. From Above came the muffled clop of heels. They rolled over the aged stairs like the soft hush of rain, pooling in the niches of the laboratory's crevices. The moment spanned for eternity until a stunning river of maroon fabric spilled through the drying room’s threshold. A woman built with a generous frame leaned in, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Her smile, sweet as honey, devoured the dark like the dawn of a new day. Too bright. Too much. The Alchemist averted her eyes. Tried to focus her attention on misting the mushrooms. 

“There you are.” 

The woman’s voice traveled free through the air, unbound by law or gravity as it heralded her sweeping hem across the chamber. Her crimson-dipped heels hovered in the Alchemist’s peripheral. A sudden dryness coated the chemist’s tongue. It made it hard to swallow. 

“My little fox.” 

A chill raced down the Alchemist’s spine as the woman’s warm breath brushed her ear. She drew in a sharp breath. And held it as she felt a hand cupping either hip. She closed her eyes and savored the subtle warmth. 

“Lady Malakhov,” was all the Alchemist managed to pull from her chest. 

The Lady’s hands quested upwards. Along her hips. Across her ribcage. Over her fluttering heart and past her collarbone. Up, up, up. The Alchemist’s veins were hot, and her lungs were cold by the time she felt slender fingers caress her scarred cheek. She choked back a hiccup. And leaned into the touch, peeking her eyes open

Even in the dark Below, Lady Malakhov shined so bright with her golden smile. The Alchemist found it hard to look at the Lady without squinting- as if she were staring into the sun. So, she listened to the warmth in her lady’s palm and fed on the sweetness of her words. 

“Please, Maxinora,” - She made her name sound so beautiful- “There is no need for formality here.  Just Vallory.” 

“Vallory,” Max echoed on the back of a quivering sigh. 

And Vallory rewarded her with an eye-wrinkling grin. “Thank you,” she purred, thumb stroking Max’s cheek, “Now then, my dear little fox, why have you burrowed?  There are guests waiting upstairs. They’ve traveled from all across Kul’tiras for you.”  

Max pursed her lips, gaze skittering to the floor as she receded into herself. There was a momentary silence before Vallory tutted. Those gentle hands fell from Max’s cheeks, leeching all her warmth with them. She swallowed hard. And tried not to shiver. 

 Vallory always managed to bring the scrutinous light into the Below, shrinking Max and her shadow into their actual size. The Lady shot the culture of mushrooms a cursory glance before humming. “Do you prefer the company of fungi best?

“No!” Max blurted. 

Their eyes met, and a wave of discomfiture burned Max’s cheeks. The disappointment in Vallory’s gaze gleamed brighter than a sunburnt sky. Max found it hard to breathe. Found it hard to speak. The words clawed at her throat, begging to be spoken, but all she could manage were breathless gasps. 

Finally: “I’m sorry.” 

Max huddled in the thin strip of shadows, hugging her stomach. Little by little, she tore her voice from her chest. “People are complicated.” Her gaze darted to the culture and their pock-marked caps. “Mushrooms are not.” 

Vallory inclined her head back. Peered down her nose at Max. Then breathed a laugh void of humor. Her smile fell short of her eyes. “Alchemists are such eccentric creatures.”

“If it would please you,” Max murmured, “I’ll go back upstairs.” 

A subtle shush and slender fingers raking through her hair silenced Max. 

“You look positively pale when you say that.” 

Max squeezed her eyes shut as Vallory tipped her chin back. Even then, she could still see the woman’s silhouette dancing behind her eyelids like sunspots. She swallowed hard. “It terrifies me.” 

“If you’re scared,” - She spoke in such a quiet hush that coaxed Max closer- “Then don’t go.” 

“But if I don’t…” 

Closer. 

Closer.

Closer… 

“... You’ll leave.” 

Max never heard the next question. Rather, she felt it against her own lips. 

“Do you want me to stay?” 

The Above was bright and loud. 

The Below was dark and quiet. 

But when a bit of the Above seeped into the Below… 

… It became a truly enchanted place.

“Yes.”

[redwop-chemicals]

Wishing you abundant blessings this Navratri!✨

May these nine nights bring you joy, peace, and strength. May the nine nights of worship fill your heart with devotion and your home with harmony. Let the rhythm of the garba and the sweetness of festive moments create cherished memories with loved ones.

As you honor the divine energy of Maa Durga, may she empower you to overcome obstacles and inspire you to pursue your dreams. May her grace shower you with prosperity and good health, illuminating your path with hope and positivity.

Embrace the spirit of unity and love during this auspicious time. May the vibrant colors of the festival brighten your days and deepen your connections with family and friends.

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