#Competition deadlines

[lycan-trophy-wife]

what is the difference btwn landscape architecture and architecture? =D

So architects design buildings and landscape architects design basically anything outside of those buildings. Public parks & squares, private gardens, Parking spaces, sidewalks and much more.

Landezine is a website where you can find a lot of notable projects & get an idea for what landscape architects plan. Looking in the 'projects' section on there will usually show you a pretty diverse range of projects from different studios.

In university we do have classes together with architecture students, tough that's mostly for basic design & drawing stuff. Most of my classes are specific to outside areas, like 'plant planning' (which plants work for certain areas and how can I include them in those areas?) or 'garden monument care' (researching a historic outdoor space/park/garden by taking stock of what is there right now and finding sources on its history, then evaluating the current state in regards to the original plans / historic layers, and then deciding what needs to be done to honor the history but also make it suitable for the current conditions and use)

[erikkarlsson]

to all the sports “writers” mad that sharks winning the lottery proves that “tanking works,” i regret to inform you that this team actually tried very hard to win every game. they just suck.

[geospiral]

“I want to be someone’s stepping stone; I want the memory of me to haunt that person so that I may live through them and be beside them without having to stay. I know that's selfish and cruel, but if the path has already been laid out for me and I have no choice but to die, then I want to at least be able to choose who I die for. And to be honest, I will probably regret this decision when I’m lying there and spitting up my own blood, but at least it will be mine… and I think I can rest easy knowing that.”

Moran, a top student when it comes to all things excluding singing, can best be described as being Anakt Garden’s very own “Thinker.” Often found sitting on the very left edge of the garden’s box, she is willing to lend an ear to those in need.

Alien Stage OC Base made by @shakingparadigm

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Anakt Garden:

Moran is not a person who will intentionally seek other people out, but she does enjoy when others come to her, usually in the form of seeking guidance. This guidance can range from simply helping a fellow student with their class work to teaching others some of what she knows about the Segyein’s entertainment industry, a topic that she is familiar with due to her upbringing. 

She likes talking about philosophy, giving general worldly advice, and being a mediator to her fellow classmates, trying her best to be an impartial judge.

Moran also likes “reading” other people’s fortunes as a kind of game. It’s not anything serious; you ask her a specific topic about the future, such as “Am I going to pass the test?” and then give her as much information as you can about your chosen topic in order for her to make an educated guess. If she guesses correctly, you have to give her something, and if she doesn't, then she’ll give something to you. The items are nothing big, just small treasures like a pretty stone from the stream or an Anakt Garden lollipop. Moran also keeps a small collection of things she finds or is given in case others would just like to do general bartering with her; however, she doesn’t hold any real attachment to the things she collects and will usually trade her items away in exchange for short-lived treats such as candy, drinks, or a bubble wand.

Moran gets along fine with the other students, and although she can be pretty blunt at times, to the point of unintentionally seeming rude, she does her best to stay on everyone’s good side. She was raised with many others under her Guardian, so she has always been used to living alongside her fellow humans; however, the experiences were not great, causing her to have trouble telling when others genuinely like her or wish to be her friend. It doesn’t help that it only seems that her classmates come to her when they need something.

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Background:

Moran’s Guardian, Rheya, is a well-known and respected theater director with a theatrical troupe composed of the many humans under her, raising them from a young age to be her personal actors. By having her plays consist of an entirely human cast, Rheya is able to push the limits of her plays' theatrics in ways that she simply could not when working with her fellow Segyeins. Her plays are touted for their stories and visual spectacles; however, they can tend to be extremely dangerous for the humans involved, with many sustaining real injuries throughout their performances.

Despite the humans of the troupe referring to Rheya as their "mother,” they do not view one another as family but rather as competition when it comes to gaining their Guardians' affection. Bullying amongst the group is commonplace; if one person is punished, everyone is, which leads to that one individual being viciously humiliated and outcast by their peers and being sent down levels in the troupe’s personal social hierarchy.

(Note: The troupe’s hierarchy is loosely inspired by that of the video game Rule of Rose; I haven’t played it, and it's basically impossible to do so without pirating, but I got the idea from the video analysis of the game by RagnarRox.)

Rheya did not want to stop her storytelling at just theater production; however, she wanted to extend her reach further and saw Alien Stage as a chance to do just that, devising a long-term plan to craft what will hopefully be one of her best stories. She wants the story to go like this: she will choose two of her humans, one to send to Anakt Garden and the other to stay with her, molding him into the next big celebrity pet. The one sent to the garden, Moran, would be used as fodder in order to boost the fame of the other human pet, Adam, under the guise that the reason she trained for and performed in Alien Stage was to gain the other’s attention, subsequently dying in the competition. Upon finding this out, Adam would then go on to perform in the next Alien Stage season after her to avenge the women who loved him, winning in the process.

Rheya doesn’t have any faith that Moran can survive her Alien Stage season, and neither does Moran herself, but while Moran is in the garden, she hopes to find someone who she can truly die for in the competition, someone she actually cares for, unlike Adam, whom she barely knows and has never loved. If Moran must die, she wants it to be meaningful to her and the one she adores. She wants to make it her own choice.

[kangaracha]

thoughts and prayers for me trying to finish this 7k fic in one day. it is 7pm. i have written 4k.

[blog-on-a-log]

log here! i've written a short script for a writing competition and i was wondering if any mutuals or followers would like to read it and give me feedback on it! dm me, and i'll link you the doc!

[godreallyisawoman]

self portrait as the sun

I am warm and burning. I am bigger than you can conceptualise / and small enough / to hide behind your finger.

I provide for my plants and watch as they turn to face me. I am scorched and scorned and revered as spiritual.

I am cracked pavement and hissing rain. inquisitive, curious, cowering in the dark.

I want more than this / I watch her curve across the sky / that luminous space wreck

I am causing shadows that fall onto people I have come to care about; time slips away from me. How long have I been here?

I become more of myself around her, I recognise we are made of the same magnetic field, the same electricity, the same dust

I am lost, floating / I am collapsing in on myself / in time I will turn cold

[elvendorx]

regulus being a bitch to james who's trying really hard to be friends with his boyfriend's brother just writes itself. james can tell regulus is being a dick but that just makes it funnier for him and means that he can say mean things back without looking like an arsehole. sirius tunes them both out but occasionally catches an insult and laughs regardless of who says it so neither of them feels left out (he lets james get away with more/worse tho)

[reitziluz]

the hard part about this round of apartment hunting and moving places isn't the actual apartment hunting and moving places.

it's how none of my conditions like any of what's going on whatsoever.

(wish me luck)

[just-some-guy-joust]

Tiebreaker Round

Please reblog/reply/send me an ask explaining why you think either Lovesick or Axolotl should get to move on. You have until the end of the day. Whichever side convinces me the best, their champion will get to move on. Good luck

[willczek-art]

Portrait of my bro, she lives in a nachos~

We're taking part in a small fanart collab competition and this was a bonus round prompt ^u^

[rotgospels]

regretting telling my priest about wanting to do a phd bc now there is so much pressure to get accepted and start asap (i’m constantly getting asked about it bc he told the parish) when ideally i’d actually like to take more time to research my project while doing further theological study before starting. 

[merevide]

i really don’t gaf about the emmys (if none of the yellowjackets cast are nominated for anything i will destroy the academy by hand)

[cloudedmydude]

Yessir/maam/theythemequivalentforsir

hey can you do me a favor and start that project that you wanted to work on please I am begging you to do the first step

literally only the first step

you only have to do the first step

PLEASE PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU SO MUCH

like if it's an art project open your art software or gather materials

If it requires reaching out to someone just send that email or whatever

If it's writing please make an outline

etc etc you know what the project is please start it please PLEASE

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA PLEASE

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

[clanoffelidae]

I would love research a lot more if it wasn’t Like That

If you know you know

[ctommyisnt]

I need to choose three songs to sing at Huge Big Massive Most Important Singing Competition Of My Life So Far in TEN DAYS I’m going to explode

[ineff-ability]

hide and seek.

Memories are funny, finicky things, aren’t they? Moving in and out of the mind’s focus, like a piece of driftwood floating over the sea. Like hide and seek. And once you think about them, you can’t make them go away.

Sometimes, I would wish that they’d disappear. That they would fade out, like the ending of an 1970s song, and the right shade of green wouldn’t bring a pair of eyes to mind and a wave of nausea. Perhaps it was idealistic.  But all I wanted was to be able to watch movies without a cavity forming in my chest when I didn’t hear the usual commentary following along.

“Alara!”

The call of my name snapped my attention back to reality. I lifted my eyes to meet with my friend’s sheepishly. Nevaeh raised her eyebrows and looked at me with a crooked grin.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I waved a hand. My lips had become accustomed to those words. “What were you saying?”

Nevaeh shrugged, “I was just saying that my brother and I were going through my mother’s boxes earlier!”

“Oh!” I remembered faintly that Nevaeh’s late mother had a slight obsession with boxes – kept loads of them for no reason. “Anything interesting?”

“Some old photographs of hers,” Nevaeh stirred her coffee, “It was definitely rewarding though.”

“I can tell,” I observed, “You seem so much brighter today.”

Nevaeh laughed, “Really? Ezra was saying something similar.”

“Well, he’s right,” I said, taking the final sip of my coffee, “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

If only I had that kind of privilege.

My phone buzzed from my pocket, and I lifted it to read a notification from my lock screen as I listened to Nevaeh talking about how she had been thinking of visiting the church again. The name Wren shone from the screen, and I swiftly clicked on my roommate’s message.

i’m going out to meet with some friends. will be back late – left the keys under the plant pot. see you later!

Wren’s social life seemed to never stop. Sometimes, I would wonder how she found time for everyone. I couldn’t ever find time for many more than five people. It had been the same even before the accident.

“I think I’m gonna have to go,” I showed Nevaeh the message with a slightly amused smile.

Nevaeh snickered,  “Doesn’t Wren realise that the plant pot is the most common place to hide keys? Go home, before someone breaks in!”

“Say it louder, won’t you?” I rolled my eyes at her, before waving goodbye, promising to text and leaving.  

The weather had been chilly lately, with summer fading into autumn. The days were growing shorter and shorter, darkness falling earlier than usual, but I didn’t mind. Winter was my favourite season.

It used to be summer. That changed. July held too many memories. July, his birthday month. July, the month that he was driving to his surprise party and never turned up. July, the month I had a call telling me that it had been quick. The funeral had been in August.  

Soon enough, everyone else had moved on. People started watching me with anxiety-ridden eyes as they danced around conversation topics, as if I were a ticking time bomb. Eventually I had enough of it. And so, I buried it. I took down all the photos and shoved them into a box. I deleted all the pictures from my phone, deleted our playlists and got rid of anything that could remind me of my best friend. It was all hidden away.

But of course, the memories would return. The one thing I had no control over.

I reached my block of flats and walked in, making my way straight up to my flat. Making my way down the familiar hall, I stopped automatically outside my door. The regular array of plants grew outside our door, at Wren’s insistence. But something seemed amiss. Had something moved out of place? Perhaps Wren had shifted something whilst she hid the keys. That made sense. I reached under the biggest plant pot to find the keys and unlocked the door quickly, before stepping in and letting it swing shut behind me.

Home sweet home.

But something felt wrong. The door opened into a hall as usual, with five doors – two bedrooms, one kitchen, the living room and bathroom. The walls were the same shade of magnolia that had been there since we moved in. Wren’s trainer collection was scattered across the entrance, not to my surprise, along with my three pairs of shoes. The living room door, however, was shut. My frown deepened as I slowly stepped forward, careful not to make a sound. We never shut that door.

I could feel my heartrate skyrocketing as I tried not to panic. Nevaeh’s words of caution echoed in my head. She had been joking obviously  – who would even want to be in my house? But my uneasiness still grew.

I pushed the door open.

The room was perfectly tidy. The TV was on, playing a show that I hadn’t watched in a year. And on the sofa sat a boy. A boy with curly brown hair and a curious shade of green eyes and a smattering of freckles. A boy who lounged on the sofa like he’d known this place for years. A man, in fact now, whose funeral I swear I had attended a year ago.

The clocks seemed to stop. Time moved through a thick wad of honey as I stared, open mouthed, at someone who was meant to be dead. The bitter taste of coffee stained my tongue. My heart stuttered and I sucked in a sharp gasp, causing him to spin around.

I found myself staring face to face with my best friend. My dead best friend. Connor. My lips formed words but no sound came out.

“Alara.” He spoke first, rising from the sofa and taking a step towards me. But I stumbled back instead, falling over my feet and gripping the door handle so tightly that my knuckles went white.

This couldn’t be real. I remembered that phone call like it was yesterday, and the wreck his car made on the road with the other van driver who had lived and I had wanted to strangle for. I remembered his coffin, his funeral, the dead silence that came afterwards. Oh, God, the silence. But here he was. Standing in front of me.

But how could he be? It was impossible. It must have been a hallucination. I reached to pinch myself, flinching at the sharp pain. Not a dream. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that when I opened them, he would be gone. He was not.

Connor stood in front of me still, staring at me from across the room. The distance between us felt like oceans.

“I’m real,” he confirmed gently, as if reading my mind.

The first word that left my mouth was, “How?”

“You probably would want to sit down,” Connor gestured to the sofa. He moved closer to the window.

I approached the sofa, sinking into it. My emotions felt at war with each other, sending me through a stormy sea, the waves battering against the hull and pulling and pushing me from one way to another. My words were trapped, drowning under the weight of it all.

“You- you died,” I choked out, but Connor shook his head.

“You need to listen Alara. I’m sorry-”

“Sorry?!” I found myself reaching for the nearest object to me – the TV remote, and chucked it right at him. It was a terrible throw and the remote fell to the floor, but Connor winced all the same. “Sorry? I thought you were dead! You were hiding!”

“There’s an explanation! I promise you!” Connor tried to plead, but I had already had enough.

Rage festered in me, bubbling furiously. I needed to kick a wall or let out a scream – just something to release all my pent up frustration. If he was alive, why hadn’t he come back to me? I could have even found him if I knew! I reached for the next closest thing, which turned out to just be a pillow, and chucked it at him again. Connor ducked as it sailed over his head, and raised his hands in surrender. There was a look in his eyes that I couldn’t place. Was it regret? He wasn’t smiling. Good. I didn’t need his grin haunting me any longer.

“Alara, listen, please! I’ll explain everything soon, I came back to warn you, okay? You’re in danger.”

My breath stilled. He had to be joking. That was Connor in a nutshell. A jokester. But his face had grown serious, and something told me that he wasn’t lying. I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could, I was interrupted.

Out of nowhere, three loud consecutive knocks echoed through the flat from the door.

Connor and I swore at the same time.