#Glacial Aurora

[everythingdice]

Glacial Aurora | Uninked test design, 2020.

[fotos-art]

Aerial view of glacial rivers in Iceland

© rybarmarekk

Shutterstock

Did you know that Iceland, the “land of fire and ice,” has rivers formed by the melting of glaciers that have shaped its landscape for thousands of years? The largest glaciers, such as Vatnajökull, Langjökull, and Hofsjökull, feed these unique rivers. Vatnajökull, the largest, covers 7,700 km², or 10% of the island. When the ice melts, the water carries sediment with it, giving the rivers a milky appearance that contrasts with the volcanic terrain. In spring and summer, the melting ice increases its flow, continually shaping the landscape. From the air, they look like authentic works of art that flow towards the North Atlantic. These rivers are not only impressive, they are also vital to Iceland, as their waters feed hydroelectric plants, positioning the country as a leader in clean energy.

[dirk-hardpec]

a single penny, laying in a wet gutter. a rat's foot is visible in the top-left corner of the image. grayscale.

[owl-bones]

👉👈 Could we get more info about Fae Dust? His wings are gorgeous, but we don't know too terribly much about him. I would love to draw my faesona interacting with him, but there's not a whole lot to go off of.

Dust is an elusive fae. he doesn't have much interest in humans or tricks, preferring to keep to himself. he's cold and doesn't talk much, and people aren't even sure if he's 'friends' with the little group of Nightmare's inner circle he almost exclusively is seen with. sightings of Dust alone are rare-- not because he's always in a group, but because when he's alone he just disappears. he goes off into the woods to do... nobody knows what. (he's off sitting on frozen waterfalls playing an ocarina, hunting, being a dramatic loner. anything to keep himself occupied where there's peace of mind and nobody around him to get hurt if he has an episode)

he's hard to get a read on and even harder to get close to. you're better off getting close to one of the others, then assimilating yourself into his inner circle that way. the pace at which he warms up to people is glacial so expect the slowest of burns even just for a mild friendship.

once you've worked your way into his closed-off heart, though, you'll find someone who is undyingly loyal and very afraid of losing the good things in his life. if he takes you on a 'walk' that turns into a long hike that ends in an aurora/star-gazing session atop an icy mountain (with a cute little hunting cabin with a fire conveniently already started in the hearth...) then that's basically a declaration of love (platonic and romantic).

[acronym-chaos]

Frost and Snow ID Pack

[PT: Frost and Snow ID Pack].

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom. End ID].

Names

[PT: Names].

Alina, Aurelian, Aurora, Bane, Bianca, Boreas, Caspian, Crystal, Eira, Elowen, Everest, Faye, Frost, Glace, Glacia, Gwen, Hail, Hala, Icy, Icario, Ivor, Iris, Jasper, Kalt, Loden, Lucien, Lumi, Mira, Neve, Noelle, North, Orin, Perla, Polar, Quinlan, Silvia, Snowe, Soren, Storm, Talia, Theron, Tundra, Vail, Wynter, Yvette, Zephyr, Zanna, Zarina

Pronouns

[PT: Pronouns].

Bli / Bliz / Blizzes [Blizzard]; Chi / Chill / Chills; Cri / Cryst / Crys [Crystal]; Cry / Crys / Crystal; Fla / Flake / Flakes; Flur / Flurry / Flurries; Fro / Fros / Frosts; Frost / Bite / Frostbites; Frig / Frigid / Frigids; Glae / Glace / Glaces; Hai / Hail / Hails; I / Ice / Ices; She / Shiver / Shivers; Sli / Slip / Slipperys; Sno / Snow / Snows; Tha / Thaw / Thaws; Wi / Wint / Wints [Winter]

Titles

[PT: Titles].

The Arctic Phantom, The Blizzard’s Whisper, The Frozen Fate, The Frostbitten Monarch, The Frostweaver, The Glacial Guardian, The Icemist Warden, The Icy Embrace, The Keeper of Cold, The Silent Blizzard, The Snowbound Wanderer, The Winter’s Chill, [Pronoun] Who Brings the Frost, [Pronoun] Who Commands the Storm, [Pronoun] Who Shivers the Earth, [Pronoun] Who Walks the Tundra

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, end ID].

Requested by @luxdraconia!

Also tagging: @pronoun-arc @id-pack-archive

[sitting-on-me-bum]

In Iceland, it’s possible to view an aurora borealis display above the Jökulsárlón glacial lagoon.

Photo by John A. Davis/Shutterstock

[hersurvival]

I am from a land of naught, barren wastes of sharp peaks, valleys so deep you can't escape, a bitter cold you'll never shake

Mount Susitna in her slumber watches me, Lady Aurora dances overhead, the Matanuska flows through my veins, the silt blowing from her feet into my lungs

Glacial streams have carved me out, water so cold and blue, it's unreal, soaking my bones, look beneath my skin, dive into my heart, feel its chill, it's threat

Eyes green as moss, as mold, as the lichen the caribou search for in the tundra, in the woods, as the dead grass on the side of the road as the snow begins to run-off

Excuse me, for I was raised by moose standing among the trees, black bears crossing highways in the night, eagles screeching, salmon spawning, one of the world's fastest tides

Beware the Keelut, malevolent dog tracks that vanish in the snow, the Tornit and his foul smell, The People-Stealers who sing a poor birdsong to lure, and whatever you do, don't wander into "the triangle"

This is where I belong, descended from government contracted potato farmers and immigrants who fought and lived through war, birthed in the cradle of mountains, hovered upon even when I'm gone, always returning home to their hold, captured by my mind, my soul

I've made it out, been dragged back in, I was born of this, raised in this, driven by survival insticts not thought, the cold has set in and I found every where else unfit to live

[lyss-butterscotch]

Hey Hi Hello I absolutely LOVE your gijinka designs and your style and I would be honored if you would gijinka-fy my beloved my oinglydoople messed up sad wet cat Tangled Threads!!! do what feels right... in your heart... go wild... i absolutely love your designs...

more info! more more info!

sorry for botherin ya but i had to ask! have a wonderful day/night! ^^

Okay i swear im not biased when it comes to the doodles but she's just so jfjdjdjdjksk aesthetically pleasing to draw im so biased to space and stars patterned anything

Also i decided to change brushes for the main image from here on out i hope thats okay

Okay lastly you put her in a glacial winter themed area you fackin bet she deserves to see the aurora its so pretty jdjdkdks. I also gave her houseki no kuni shiny hair because shiny hehe

Ps. Sorry for the shit image quality so far my tab is dying of space and i can only screenshot images jfjdkkddk

Pps. I think i fixed it sobs idk

[rraaaarrl]

✨With Her Eyes Made of Stars✨ 

Doom finally caught up to that foolish, stubborn Richards. He had to put a stop to this. He understood grief all too well. He thought Richards was finally past the denial phase. "Sue is alive, I feel it in my heart. She is still out there!" he would mutter, bent over the latest series of profane calculations.

Was this really the same Richards whose disdain for sorcery was no secret, simply because it was not logical to him, beyond his comprehension? No, this was not the Richards he knew, this was. Like looking into the past. The same focus on the impossible, singular goal of bringing her back. And like now, the tragic consequences. Naive Richards, back then, warning him, his calculations were off! Or so he claimed.

Doom should have returned the favor, told Richards that it's not too late! Until it was. Richards had flipped the last switch, the line, it had been crossed.

Glacial winds whipped Doom's cloak into a frenzy, as he narrowed his focus and zoomed in. Yes, that was definitely Richards, seemingly not affected by the merciless elements. No doubt something to do with his unique molecular structure. Richards, his face turned towards the night sky filled by the aurora borealis, looking up.

Victor followed the direction of Richards's gaze, and looked at the star-filled sky. The curiously star-filled–

A petty flash of anger, the audacity! How dare Richards be right! It quickly evaporated, because... well. "Alive" she appeared to be.

If you could call it that. If it was even her.

[18shadesofmay]

A Dog, a Doubt, and a Deity

“What is God?”

You shift in your seat, eyes heavy and knees sore, wondering how much body moisture one needs to sweat out before turning into a raisin. Plastic chairs are hard to sit on (in both interpretations of the word) for any more than about twenty seconds when the speaker talks like she lives in a shell on her back.

“You are not alone, friends. God's love is boundless, Her forgiveness infinite. With Her, we find a path to purpose, a connection to something greater than ourselves, and a promise of eternal life,” she slugs on. This particular lecture has been grinding on for a half hour now, and the stout little woman giving it seems dead set on converting every person, chair and housefly in the room to religion, and at a glacial pace of ten words per minute. Another half hour of boundless love and infinite forgiveness would definitely send you to something greater than yourself.

Ceiling fans murmur above you. They’re about as comprehensible to you as the speaker herself. What is the whole idea? A sense of community? Contentment? Salvation? You recall communal religiousness being a concept you once understood, but got lost as you grew older and your perceptions turned more decided. A two-sided coin you would’ve wanted to flip over, but never had the courage to read the print on the other side of. You know you’re right about this one thing, if not about every other thing. And it’s not like you need God to cook your breakfast and do your laundry anyway.

With a damp white shirt and gushing forehead, you pretend to take a call and excuse yourself from the hall. You scoff out of the building and bump into a fellow attendee, sharing quick, knowing smiles, as if to say “escaping too?”, and walk away. You’re not alone.

You decide you want a stroll in the park across the compound. Summer means more people, and more people means more faces to make stories about. You find yourself a rusty bench under a towering oak to observe from and let your thoughts brew themselves. A girl is playing with her dog, and you wonder if the dog thinks a higher power sent the rubber toy he’s so delightfully chewing on in his little toothy mouth. Or if the fluttering leaves and rustling trees are whispers from the Creator.

All these people and you sit with yourself. It isn’t lonely by any means, just a peaceful disconnect from the outside. You feel your breath slowing. Leaflets rain in an airy column, and a cloud curtains the sunlight once again. It’s almost like your heart just burst open. The dog trots over to say hello, and you ruffle his mane. His tail thumps against the ground and it feels like a symphony in a world full of clamour. There is perhaps a tinge of a form of hushed godliness in all this. Divine or not, this is…not bad.

All the noise you’ve always heard, about acts of the supreme being and gifts from above, feels somehow misdirected. In this very moment, you find yourself drowned in the calmness the priests always talk of. Even with your disagreeability, you relate with them in some kind of inexplicable soundlessness. Is this God getting to you, finally? What if She isn’t a booming voice or a vengeful hand? Just the voiceless hum of existence, the interconnectedness of all things? It may not be the God the lady preached about, but it’s enough for now. She wasn’t entirely wrong.

We simply don’t know. If it’s really Her making things move, we’d probably never find out in our fragile brevity on this weird rock. And if it isn’t, hey, you were right all along, and congratulations, it doesn’t matter one bit. There are ghost towns in the ocean and mountains in the clouds, and crowds on Shanghai streets and auroras in the north, and they’re all real regardless of the presence or absence of God. You will love and die or hate and live, and the only higher power you’ll ever need to worry about is your own self. There’s no Wikipedia page that holds the answer, but why not stop trying to write one? Right now, your God is a mere quietness that is present and full. Outside the gates of this park, maybe there exists a different one.

Maybe it’s the stout little lady back in the boring building. She definitely looked the age, didn’t she?

[stcnecoldd]

ALYCIA DEBNAM-CAREY ? Não! É apenas AURORA ELYSIUS, ela é filha de QUIONE do chalé TRINTA E UM e tem VINTE E SETE ANOS. A TV Hefesto informa no guia de programação que ela está no NÍVEL III por estar no Acampamento há QUINZE ANOS, sabia? E se lá estiver certo, RORY é bastante PRESTATIVA mas também dizem que ela é APÁTICA. Mas você sabe como Hefesto é, sempre inventando fake news pra atrair audiência.

PODER: Criocinese - O dom gélido, entrelaçado com o toque dos deuses, concede a ela a habilidade de manipular o frio e produzir gelo, assim tornando-se uma verdadeira mestre do inverno capaz de moldar qualquer ambiente com a frieza imponente. Seus poderes vão além de criar superfícies geladas; podendo moldar o gelo de maneira complexa e utilizá-lo de várias formas, incluindo armas afiadas e pontiagudas. Dotada desse poder extraordinário, personifica a majestade e a beleza implacável do inverno. Seus dons são uma fusão de arte e força, refletindo a dualidade de sua herança divina. PODER PASSIVO: Armadura de cristal ártico - Permite que transforme sua pele em uma camada de gelo cristalino e reluzente, proporcionando defesa aumentada contra ataques físicos e mágicos. Essa pele de gelo a torna invisível em ambientes nevados, imune ao frio extremo. HABILIDADES: Reflexos e vigor sobre-humanos. ARMA: 1. Cetro de Cristal Glacial - Consiste em um cetro esculpido a partir de um cristal mágico de gelo, que amplifica seus poderes, permitindo-lhe controlar o gelo com maior precisão e intensidade. Além disso, pode gerar rajadas de vento cortante. 2. Adaga Infernal (recompensa adiquirida): Por ser uma arma não muito popular nos dias atuais, essa lâmina de ferro estígio vem com o bônus de ter chamas de fogo infernal a tornando mais letal para adversários dos semideuses. Monstros ou outros semideuses são sensíveis ao fogo infernal, então deve ser manuseada com cuidado. MALDIÇÃO: Um deslize inocente atribuiu a ela uma maldição, denominada como "lágrimas cristalizadas", um castigo rogado pela própria mãe. Sempre que Aurora chora, suas lágrimas transformam-se em pequenos cristais de gelo cortantes, trazendo dor física e ferimentos à semideusa e quem ousar tocar nelas. Cada lágrima derramada torna-se uma lembrança dolorosa de sua maldição, invocada após desafiar diretamente a vontade de Quione ao buscar poder além do que lhe foi concedido. A maldição é uma resposta à sua arrogância e à tentativa de ultrapassar os limites estabelecidos pelos deuses. ATIVIDADES: Co-líder da equipe azul da parede de escalada, faz parte da equipe azul de esgrima e pratica corrida de pégasos.

DENVOLVIMENTO DA PERSONAGEM!

SOBRE : 𝐔 𝐧 𝐰 𝐚 𝐯 𝐞 𝐫 𝐢 𝐧 𝐠 𝐋 𝐞 𝐠 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 !

HER STORY :

─    Foi durante uma noite gélida no inverno da Finlândia que Aurora foi concebida, em meio a uma tempestade de neve que assolava a região mais remota do país. O mortal de coração puro foi abençoado pela divindade, com quem tivera um caso intenso e fugaz, depois de Quione ter vislumbrado em sua descendência a promessa de um destino extraordinário. Assim, a garota de írises tingidas por um azul pálido, etéreos como a luz do alvorecer, veio ao mundo com a herança divina da deusa da neve fluindo em suas veias.

─    O período de sua infância foi marcado por eventos misteriosos e fenômenos naturais incomuns. Desde jovem, a garota manifestava um controle inato sobre a neve, sendo capaz de moldar e manipular elementos frios com um simples pensamento. Seu pai, percebendo que a filha era diferente, mas sem entender completamente a extensão de seus poderes, decidiu mantê-la afastada dos olhares curiosos, temendo a incompreensão e a possível perseguição por parte da sociedade.

─    Aurora viu sua vida mudar drasticamente quando, durante uma expedição pela montanha Galdhøpiggen, seu pai foi vítima de um monstro enviado por forças desconhecidas para eliminar qualquer vestígio da linhagem de Quione. Corajoso e inconsciente dos perigos que cercavam sua família, deu a vida para proteger a filha, escondendo a localização da mais jovem. Foi nesse momento trágico que Aurora descobriu a verdade sobre sua origem e a ameaça que pairava sobre ela.

─    Após a dilacerante morte, a semideusa foi encontrada por um sátiro enviado por Quíron, então encontrando refúgio no acampamento meio-sangue. A criatura explicou tudo sobre a natureza divina de Aurora, sua ligação com Quione e a necessidade de treinamento para enfrentar os perigos que aguardavam jovens como ela. Apesar da dor da perda, ela aceitou a oportunidade de honrar a memória de seu pai e descobrir o propósito de seus extraordinários poderes, sem alternativa para onde ir.

─    No acampamento, treinou diligentemente sob a orientação de instrutores e semideuses mais experientes, aprimorando suas habilidades com o gelo. Rapidamente, se destacou como uma das campistas mais promissoras. Mas, apenas depois de completar quatro anos de treinamento e enfrentar uma criatura que ameaçava desencadear um inverno eterno sobre o mundo dos mortais, foi reclamada pela deusa Quione, surpreendendo a poucos. 

─    Aurora Elysius, agora abraça seu destino. Sua jornada continua, mas ela caminha confiante, sabendo que a neve que controla é tanto uma bênção quanto uma responsabilidade, e que seu pai, onde quer que esteja, olha com orgulho para a semideusa que se tornou. O que desconhece, porém, é o ressentimento que Quione nutre por ela, a enxergando como um lembrete constante da falha fatal em proteger o mortal por quem um dia havia se apaixonado.

TRIVIA :

Seu sotaque ainda é extremamente carregado.

É uma exímia guerreira, excedendo-se no confronto físico.

Devido a maldição que carrega, tem dificuldade em lidar com os próprios sentimentos e expressá-los, uma limitação que conferiu a ela a reputação como fria e insensível.

É tutora de um cão infernal, carinhosamente apelidado como Blizzard. A criatura segue livre, mas realiza visitas constantes à semideusa, com quem mantém um relacionamento amistoso e próximo.

[runwayrunway]

No. 24 - Icelandair's Special Liveries

Congratulations to Icelandair's Hekla Aurora livery for being my first multi-request. And for a special livery, no less!

So, as a quick supplement to my main Icelandair post, I'm going to discuss the airline's three special liveries (excluding those which are crossovers with other brands). They've even been kind enough to provide a page for each, describing their various inspirations and how they relate to Icelandic identity.

Þingvellir

I'm starting with Þingvellir. Painted on a Boeing 757-300 registered TF-ISX, this livery was released in 2018 to celebrate 100 years of Icelandic independence and also something involving football, which in a very classic moment are treated as being equivalent in weight. I think Iceland may have won at the football? If you are aware of the context of the football, please don't tell me. I don't care about football.

Her colors are drawn from the Icelandic flag. It's really incredible how many flags out there manage to be red, white, and blue. It's honestly a kindness on Icelandair's part to not have those colors dominate their livery to begin with because it's incredibly saturated with flag carriers. (Red, white, and green are another similarly done-to-death scheme.)

Although I think the actual cross-shape of the flag could have been used to some decent effect, I have no real problem with where we ended up. I think this is recognizable as the Icelandic flag and visually pleasing. The first time I saw this I thought it was a heritage livery, because I didn't know off the top of my head what Icelandair's old liveries actually looked like. I think if they'd done this back in the day they would have been the talk of the tarmac.

Looking at it from the right angle, though, I can't deny that when you add in the glossy modern look of the Icelandair logo and the yellow nacelles it does sort of look like a football jersey somehow. Unsure if this is intentional, but all in all I just think this looks nice and I genuinely think if you did something about the yellow this would be a better standard livery for Icelandair than most airlines have. It's quite unique, as far as what's flying today.

Grade: C+

A few notes to close out: first, 'Þingvellir' is the name of the aircraft. Icelandair names all their planes after features of Icelandic nature, and Þingvellir is a national park known for being the site of parliamentary sessions. 'Þ' is pronounced roughly like 'th' in English.

Second, you may notice a distinct...how do I put this? Longness about her. This is because

('normal girl' here means 'narrow-body airliner'). image by @lobstersinmyhouse.

and I really like that.

Vatnajökull

Vatnajökull is a slightly less long but still delightful normal girl, a Boeing 757-200 with the registration TF-FIR. Icelandair bills her as the world's first flying glacier. I don't think there was much of a risk of anyone else getting that record, but she...sure is!

Vatnajökull is a fairly self-explanatory livery. It's an incredibly detailed glacier scene, representative of the very landmass for which the airplane is named. From Icelandair's website:

Even if you have lived in Iceland your whole life, the wonders of Vatnajökull never cease to amaze and enthrall. The largest glacier in Europe tumbles down the highest mountain ridge in Iceland, creating tremendous icefalls just above the southeast part of Route 1. The ice giant covers 8% of Iceland and is up to 1000 meters (3280 feet) thick. That equals 30 meters of ice evenly spread over all of Iceland – but we are in fact quite happy to keep it where it is. The Icelandic climate can be challenging enough without adding dozens of meters of ice on top of us.

It's actually somewhat difficult to find much more to say about her. This is just a very pretty glacial landscape drawn onto an airplane, and I think it looks very very nice.

This paint job is undeniably both pretty and impressive. I do sort of wish the tail and engines had been integrated as well, but what we got is more than alright.

Vatnajökull also features a glacier-themed interior, including glacier-themed headrests and drinks carts and, of course, some lovely blue mood lighting. The whole package makes me want to go potholing in a glacier very badly. They've definitely put a lot of effort into making the world's first flying glacier, and they've succeeded in that.

Grade: B

Hekla Aurora

It was very hard to choose pictures of this plane to include in this post. Hekla Aurora is stunning. She looks dramatically different depending on the lighting, but no matter which angle she's seen from she looks gorgeous and vivid.

Hekla Aurora is named for the active volcano Hekla and the aurora borealis, two noteworthy features of Iceland's unique natural environment. Obviously, though, she leans a bit towards the latter part of the name. The plane even comes with special interior mood lighting like Vatnajökull.

This looks so nice. It's even more striking than the simple blue Vatnajökull has. I want to fall asleep on this plane more than anything else in the world.

This plane is basically Icelandair's flagship. I swear this is one of the best-known planes flying right now. And she deserves every bit of it. This is a uniquely beautiful paint job and I am severely envious of anyone who has ever been able to fly on her.

I do, again, wish more had been done with the engines and the tail, but it's really hard to say anything about Hekla Aurora because this is just as much of an art piece as it is an airplane livery.

I have it as an active goal of mine to see her in person, even if from a distance, while she's still in service.

Grade: A

Unfortunately, this request was timely in the worst possible way. On the 7th of July, Icelandair announced their intention to acquire between 13 and 25 Airbus A321XLR airplanes. This is an interesting move from an airline which has up until now exclusively operated Boeing aircraft, but Boeing's refusal to actually build a 757 successor is a separate conversation. What's important to note is that Icelandair's special 757s are getting on in years. Hekla Aurora is nearly 30 years old. While far from derelict, that's definitely around the point most major airlines will begin to retire their planes. The confirmation of Icelandair's intentions to acquire a replacement model just makes it even clearer.

There is time to talk about what Icelandair will do going forward, what new special liveries they'll make. It's clear that all their existing ones are born from an appreciation for Iceland, and I'm sure they won't stop just because their planes are going to look a little different ten years from now. But It feels like an important time to voice my appreciation for TF-FIU, who has been bringing the northern lights everywhere Icelandair flies for nearly 10 years, even as those years finally begin to wind down.

[missedstations]

"After Rothko’s Green Blue Green (1969)" - Blu Mehari

At the airport baggage claim, my father and I Fundamentally disagree as to the nature of teal. I propose some fish fins and bird’s eggs, Cyanobacteria as well as sections of the ocean, But mostly it is a stunning lie to say The sea’s any color, but anemic and blue. Certain inks, peacocks in places Around the eye and plumage, auroras, apatites Damselflies, a shocking number of beetles Who are then pulverized for dye, Icebergs, as their layers separate light, And sometimes living green animals Tint glacial bodies before they melt Into puny water. Some markings on flags or maybe Exclusively the rectangle on Sri Lanka’s, I’m not sure. The alternate uniform of the Anaheim Ducks Because the word teal comes from a breed Of ducks. (Linnaeus remarks on the bright Patches on their wings.) They are unlikely To go extinct, but who knows? Medical scrubs, Indonesian passports, a few ocean paintings, And that Rothko I know you’d loathe To see it where it hangs somewhere in low light Bare paint while it goes on all ten Million dollars of it according to Sotheby’s And cut through with an ultramarine stripe anyway. He responds with the thin blankets that sometimes sheath The faces of corpses and a burlap shawl My grandmother wore, embroidered with gold leaves. I offer a kind of hornworm while hauling My suitcase (green) from the carousel And he gives the outline of a boyhood mountain On his Amharic copy of Robinson Crusoe. I say I never knew you paid so much attention. He says I named you for a color.

[romdocitizen]

Instead of the darkness, she faced a stupendous sky-conflagration, an incredible glacial dream-scene. Cold coruscations of rainbow fire pulsed overhead, shot through by shafts of pure incandescence thrown out by mountains of solid ice towering all round. Closer, the trees round the house, sheathed in ice, dripped and sparkled with weird prismatic jewels, reflecting the vivid changing cascades above. Instead of the familiar night sky, the aurora borealis formed a blazing, vibrating roof of intense cold and colour, beneath which the earth was trapped with all its inhabitants, walled in by those impassable glittering ice-cliffs. The world had become an arctic prison from which no escape was possible, all its creatures trapped as securely as were the trees, already lifeless inside their deadly resplendent armor.

Despairingly she looked all round. She was completely encircled by the tremendous ice walls, which were made fluid by explosions of blinding light, so that they moved and changed with a continuous liquid motion, advancing in torrents of ice, avalanches as big as oceans, flooding everywhere over the doomed world. Wherever she looked, she saw the same fearful encirclement, soaring battlements of ice, an overhanging ring of frigid, fiery, colossal waves about to collapse upon her. Frozen by the deathly cold emanating from the ice, dazzled by the blaze of crystalline ice-light, she felt herself becoming part of the polar vision, her structure becoming one with the structure of ice and snow. As her fate, she accepted the world of ice, shining, shimmering, dead; she resigned herself to the triumph of glaciers and the death of her world.

Ice, Anna Kavan

[alliwanttodoiscollectpoetry]

1.

We like to think of it as parallel to what we know,

Only bigger. One man against the authorities.

Or one man against a city of zombies. One man

Who is not, in fact, a man, sent to understand

The caravan of men now chasing him like red ants

Let loose down the pants of America. Man on the run.

Man with a ship to catch, a payload to drop,

This message going out to all of space. . . . Though

Maybe it’s more like life below the sea: silent,

Buoyant, bizarrely benign. Relics

Of an outmoded design. Some like to imagine

A cosmic mother watching through a spray of stars,

Mouthing yes, yes as we toddle toward the light,

Biting her lip if we teeter at some ledge. Longing

To sweep us to her breast, she hopes for the best

While the father storms through adjacent rooms

Ranting with the force of Kingdom Come,

Not caring anymore what might snap us in its jaw.

Sometimes, what I see is a library in a rural community.

All the tall shelves in the big open room. And the pencils

In a cup at Circulation, gnawed on by the entire population.

The books have lived here all along, belonging

For weeks at a time to one or another in the brief sequence

Of family names, speaking (at night mostly) to a face,

A pair of eyes. The most remarkable lies.

2.

Charlton Heston is waiting to be let in. He asked once politely.

A second time with force from the diaphragm. The third time,

He did it like Moses: arms raised high, face an apocryphal white.

Shirt crisp, suit trim, he stoops a little coming in,

Then grows tall. He scans the room. He stands until I gesture,

Then he sits. Birds commence their evening chatter. Someone fires

Charcoals out below. He’ll take a whiskey if I have it. Water if I don’t.

I ask him to start from the beginning, but he goes only halfway back.

That was the future once, he says. Before the world went upside down.

Hero, survivor, God’s right hand man, I know he sees the blank

Surface of the moon where I see a language built from brick and bone.

He sits straight in his seat, takes a long, slow high-thespian breath,

Then lets it go. For all I know, I was the last true man on this earth. And:

May I smoke? The voices outside soften. Planes jet past heading off or back.

Someone cries that she does not want to go to bed. Footsteps overhead.

A fountain in the neighbor’s yard babbles to itself, and the night air

Lifts the sound indoors. It was another time, he says, picking up again.

We were pioneers. Will you fight to stay alive here, riding the earth

Toward God-knows-where? I think of Atlantis buried under ice, gone

One day from sight, the shore from which it rose now glacial and stark.

Our eyes adjust to the dark.

3.

Perhaps the great error is believing we’re alone,

That the others have come and gone—a momentary blip—

When all along, space might be choc-full of traffic,

Bursting at the seams with energy we neither feel

Nor see, flush against us, living, dying, deciding,

Setting solid feet down on planets everywhere,

Bowing to the great stars that command, pitching stones

At whatever are their moons. They live wondering

If they are the only ones, knowing only the wish to know,

And the great black distance they—we—flicker in.

Maybe the dead know, their eyes widening at last,

Seeing the high beams of a million galaxies flick on

At twilight. Hearing the engines flare, the horns

Not letting up, the frenzy of being. I want to be

One notch below bedlam, like a radio without a dial.

Wide open, so everything floods in at once.

And sealed tight, so nothing escapes. Not even time,

Which should curl in on itself and loop around like smoke.

So that I might be sitting now beside my father

As he raises a lit match to the bowl of his pipe

For the first time in the winter of 1959.




 4.


In those last scenes of Kubrick’s 2001

When Dave is whisked into the center of space,

Which unfurls in an aurora of orgasmic light

Before opening wide, like a jungle orchid

For a love-struck bee, then goes liquid,

Paint-in-water, and then gauze wafting out and off,

Before, finally, the night tide, luminescent

And vague, swirls in, and on and on. . . .

In those last scenes, as he floats

Above Jupiter’s vast canyons and seas,

Over the lava strewn plains and mountains

Packed in ice, that whole time, he doesn’t blink.

In his little ship, blind to what he rides, whisked

Across the wide-screen of unparcelled time,

Who knows what blazes through his mind?

Is it still his life he moves through, or does

That end at the end of what he can name?

On set, it’s shot after shot till Kubrick is happy,

Then the costumes go back on their racks

And the great gleaming set goes black.

5.

When my father worked on the Hubble Telescope, he said

They operated like surgeons: scrubbed and sheathed

In papery green, the room a clean cold, a bright white.

He’d read Larry Niven at home, and drink scotch on the rocks,

His eyes exhausted and pink. These were the Reagan years,

When we lived with our finger on The Button and struggled

To view our enemies as children. My father spent whole seasons

Bowing before the oracle-eye, hungry for what it would find.

His face lit-up whenever anyone asked, and his arms would rise

As if he were weightless, perfectly at ease in the never-ending

Night of space. On the ground, we tied postcards to balloons

For peace. Prince Charles married Lady Di. Rock Hudson died.

We learned new words for things. The decade changed.

The first few pictures came back blurred, and I felt ashamed

For all the cheerful engineers, my father and his tribe. The second time,

The optics jibed. We saw to the edge of all there is—

So brutal and alive it seemed to comprehend us back.

My God, its full of stars by Tracy K Smith

[fortythealien]

alter idea: Pramanix the devoted

Kjeragandr fights off a demon and fuckin dies (very unlikely; a mortal empire shattered demons and used demon shards for experiments; also, I don't think Kjerag has any demons. Let’s just disregard Canon for now).

Kjera binds her two little drones to her favorite follower, so pram’s got the two little drones fighting for her now. (In life, Pramanix followed her; in death, Kjera followed her.)

Would she be a drone operator? I don’t want her to be Gnosis 2.0.

Solution: She is the first offensive bard (might just be a separate subclass at this point), singing church hymns while the drones attack for her (it’s not like the drone operator gimmick where it’s two attacks, no, it’s just the one attack). She’s focused on debuffs and damage-over-time instead of buffing her allies like other bards (ignore Skalter S3, that doesn't count).

The main mechanic would obviously be ‘Cold’ and ‘Frozen’ like her wife, but how do you make that interesting?

Solution: Have a secret 3rd stage on the ‘Cold’-’Frozen’ debuff stack that’s exclusive to her called ‘Glacial’ (It acts as ‘Frozen’ for other operator mechanics like Aurora’s s2). ‘Glacial’ is a new mechanic where ‘Frozen’ enemies get a gauge that operator attacks can fill up.  When the gauge is filled up, the enemy is pushed in the direction that the operator who filled the gauge is facing (weight mechanics apply). A ‘Glacial’ enemy deals damage to themselves and other enemies when hitting them and shatters when hitting a wall, resulting in big damage and stun being applied to the formerly ‘Frozen’ enemy (all stacks of 'Cold' are removed when this happens). The effect is only active when she’s on the team, but every frostbite proc activates this feature. Push and pull operators (and skills with push/pull) ignore the gauge completely and just push and pull like normal. (please ignore that this is just the ‘Break the Ice’ slip n slide mechanic combined with Enforcer’s gimmick)

Every 6-star s3 is like their standout skill, so let's make her s3 like Amiya Guard’s s2, where you can only use it once per battle. Pramalter’s range is reduced to her e0 range (the 8 squares around her), and she applies ‘Cold’ repeatedly to enemies globally for a duration. Damage from the ‘Glacial’ debuff is amplified during the duration. Enemies in Pramalter’s range have their gauge filled up over time and get pushed away from her when their gauge is filled up (overridden if another operator fills the gauge). After the duration of the skill, the ‘Cold’ debuff and its stacks become permanent (still removed when a ‘Glacial’ enemy hits a wall).

pros:

Pramalter

very delicious angst

This could be the closest thing to confirmation we’ll ever get for the pairing.

This could be an interesting direction to take the character.

could explore previously unavailable themes (what happens to you when religion fails you for the first time? What happens to gods when they die? Fuckin demons, mate, what the fuck? (What happens when the god and the follower switch places? Does the god find solace in its follower after death?)

cons:

another alter, ew (Personally, I like the alter trend because it expands the roster but prevents bloat because they’re just reusing characters instead of adding more one-off characters. But a lot of people hate this trend, so I’m putting it here.)

very delicious angst

Uh, very unlikely because they’re never going to kill off a playable character.