#Gurnards Head

[ltwilliammowett]

The Mildred, Gurnards Head, photo by the Gibson family, 1912

[cotton-fae24]

Hello Everyone, so I need a little more time, so part 4 of chapter 7 will be posted on Sunday instead of Saturday, sorry about that. But I thought for now, I could show you some concept art for mermaid Eda! (I can't believe I haven't done hers yet).

Eda's design is based on a Red gurnard fish with such large fins that it looks like wings. I thought it fit the freedom-loving owl lady quite well. There were a lot of early ideas that never went through. One idea was her still being able to cast magic and actually being able to fly with her fin-like wings. Maybe she still can fly, but we just haven't seen it yet, but it was decided that no one in the Boiling Bay could practice magic (at least not yet) which meant Eda's role had to change.

When the idea of Lilith being the supreme monarch came up, that would technically mean Eda would be a Princess or at least royalty. An idea then came up of Eda being known as the "Pirate Princess" and running away from her duties to pursue a life of adventure and crime. While her sister, Lilith would try to catch her sister to chain her down. There was even an idea of Lilith trying to manipulate Luz against Eda by enticing with a life of royalty. Why was this cut? I felt like it was too similar to the show. Though this is still an owl house AU, I didn't want it to be "owl house but mermaids" I wanted to reinterpret the characters where their lives went into very different directions.

In the end, I decided that Eda would live in the palace with her sister, though she avoids royal duties as much as possible. The reason why she says in the castle is actually for King's, as she wanted him to stay in one place. I felt this change not only kept the story grounded, but also forced Eda's relationship with her Princess title head-on, and her feelings on it (which yes, will be delved into soon). Plus it allows the sisters to interact and conflict with one another. Though Eda does still have a pirate appearance to her, now she dresses like that to be the complete opposite of what a princess should be, a source of rebellion you could say, a way for her to put on a different persona.

One last thing I want to mention, in regards to Eda's redesign, it takes a lot of inspiration from @astrolavas designs specifically Amity's design, when she did her mermay month owl house au. While they're not clones to each other, I wanted to credit her as an inspiration, as her designs I did reference for my designs.

Please check out @astrolavas Tumblr she's so talented and her art is so amazing!

Anyway, I promise you that part 4 will be posted on Sunday, that is a promise.

[fishenjoyer1]

Fish of the Day

Today's fish of the day is the spiny red gurnard!

The spiny red gurnard, known by scientific name Chelidonichthys spinosus, is known for their strange appearance. Their range is primarily around the Northeastern Pacific, living in the China sea, Yellow sea, and from the South coast of Japan, spreading Westward. They live in warm temperate to tropical waters, living in sandy bottomed or mud substrate. Living at a depth of 25-630 meters these fish are benthic, surviving off what the can forage across the sea bed. 

The spiny red gurnard is a migratory species, during the winter and autumn they head to deeper waters away from shore, and during the early spring, they came back inshore, where there's more food. The diet of the spiny red gurnard is similar to that of other other gurnard's and sea robins, consists primarily of worms, and small crustaceans, although on rare occasion they'll eat smaller fish or fry. The six leg like appendages for which they are so well known, are rather 6 additional and separated pectoral fins. 

These additional pectoral fins are noted for their exceptional flexibility, and contain taste buds along their surface, that they use for better foraging. These fish can get to a maximum size of 40 cm in length, and the heaviest recorded was 950g. No known predators of the spiny red gurnard are known, other than humans, as this fish is an essential food fish across it's range. Other than these details this fish is rather unknown, and I can find no information on their breeding habits, nor the breeding habits of their family. The life history as well is unknown, leaving us only the hope they may be better studied in the future.

That's the spiny red gurnard, everyone. Have a wonderful day!

[prisiidon]

List of zora designs i haven't seen yet or super rare! feel free to add other suggestions :)

Flasher Wrasse

Lancetfish

Flying Gurnard

Arowana

Piebald sharks

Longnose Hawkfish

Clown Triggerfish

Velvet Lantern Shark

Butterfly fish

Tripodfish

Emperor Shrimp

Hermit crab zora (shells on their heads)

Sea Raven

Zora that'd be cool to see more of!

Nudibranch

Jellyfish

Crustacean

Seahorse

Prehistoric

[peaceinthestorm]

Arthur Hughes (1832-1915, British) ~ Gurnard's Head, from St Ives Side, n/d 

[Source: Christie’s]

[elliottnotyet]

The top 4 will be sent to $10+ Patreon members and the champion will be sent to $7.50+ Patreon members. ($5 members get digital products)

[Image ID: drawings of various sea creatures: a red crab, a light grey hammerhead shark, a green and yellow Mahi Mahi, a grey and pink Kole that looks like its kissing a sea turtle on the head, a pinkish fish with large, flat, black, green, and blue spotted fins, a salmon with a green head and red body, a triangular yellow, black and white fish, a long golden Koi, a pinkish fish with a bulbous head, and a long black fish with sharp teeth. End ID]

[oldsardens]

Wilhelmina Barns-Graham - Gurnards Head No. 2, 1947

[orboros]

Blood on Snow part 2

Warnings: Gutting a animal

I don't know how long this series will be, but this isn't the last chapter. Also, if anyone has any tips for getting better at typing, please share it :) I write it down physically, and then I type it on my phone. This is a pretty slow process, so I would appreciate any tips. Thank you, and I hope you find some enjoyment in it.

The all-encompassing blackness of night covered your body as the howling winds drowned your grunts and pants for air. The climb down the wall was far easier than the climb up, but that didn't mean it was easy. The woven rope dug into your waist as the icyness of the frozen wall soaked your gloves. You've neared the end now. With both Ygla and Vigyn safely on the ground. Your hand reached for your knife. The rusted blade cut the rope that tied you to Gurnard. You sheathed the blade before letting go of the rope. Pain shot up your feet and settled in your knees as you landed on the frost-covered grass. You ripped the worn gloves from your hand; thick Calluses were spilt angrily, and large Bullous blisters formed on the tips of your fingers. It hurt, but the cold air soothed your sweaty hands. Your hood came down soon after that, and strands of sweat-covered hair stuck out of the tight plaits you had put in your hair.

Ygla and Vigyn played with their axes and swords, respectively. They hit each other with comically loud whines and cries of pain. Anger flooded you; this wasn't some joke. Several members of your group had died, and now they screamed and Hollered like dogs. Anyone could hear you; on the ground, sound travels quickly, especially at night. You quickly marched over to them. Your Calloused hands soon clattered each of them in the back of the head.

"Be quiet," You whispered with a hiss.

"But Grunard said there were no crows here!" Vigyn said it in the whiny tone of a pubescent boy.

"Grunard said that so you wouldn't shit yourselves; we don't know for sure where the crows are." You looked at both of their fear-sticky faces with fury.

"Don't look at me like that; you wanted to come here; you wanted to raid. Don't shirk in fear just because the consequences of your actions have arrived." Your nose flared as your harsh words left your chapped lips. The guilty looks of scolded children came on each of their dates. It did not quell your anger, but they Had been told off enough for one day. More men and women rumped from the grass-woven ropes, Grunard being one of them. With everyone who had survived the wall now on southern ground, you all gathered together.

Grunard spoke with wide hand gestures and a hushed voice. The darkness of night made it hard to see him, but you understood the gist of the plan nonetheless. You would journey to Queenscrown and completely bypass Mole's Town. The crows often visited the women there to break their oh-so-sacred vows. The town was crawling with the black-hearted basterds. As you had a number of young ones, it was better to go straight to Queenscown.

The people were weak and easy to kill. Spending their days tilling the fruitful soil. As a result, the reward was low. There would be no fine silks or exotic spices, but there would be enough swords, axes, and armour to make the journey worth it.

Under the cover of night, everyone moved as one, searching for shelter to hide from the exposed nature of daylight. Luckily, the gods granted you all that mercy in the form of a cave. The other raiders poured into the dark and damp cave. Some slept alone, while others gathered in large piles to sleep. You decided on neither; you were too hungry to sleep. The pain of hunger crawled up your ribcage, sending the familiar growls into the quiet night. With a rake of arrows across your back and a bow in hand, you left the cave. The dark sky began to lighten as the first light came.

The squelch of lush, dew-covered grass and the melodic chirps of risen birds drove home how full of life the south was. Every inch of land is themed with life; back home on the frozen shore, most life existed in the turbulent sea. Here, it was everywhere. The grassy meadows soon turned to thick oak forests, and gentle rays of dawn gently touched the apples of your cheeks as they swept through the woodland. Birds flew through the canopy of leaves as rabbits swiftly leaped into underground burrows. But you were searching for something more filling. A crack of a twig altered your eager ears. Before your eyes found him, you knew what he was. The snap of the twig was heavy—too heavy to be a wolf and too light to be a boar. Your eyes whipped around to the large stag.You lowered your body as a creeping hand gripped one of your arrows. The great white stag didn't notice your soundless breathing and hungry eyes as it chewed on fresh grass. Nor did it notice the flying arrow until it pierced its chest. But by the time he realised it, it was too late. The beast fell to the ground with a thud. In your younger years, you would wait for the blood to drain from the beast, but now that you were more skilled, deer would die on impact. This one is included.

You sauntered over to the now-dead creature; killing had always been easy for you. The North was filled with it. Death surrounded anything that had the fight to survive and took anything that didn't. But here, where life came easy, the fight for survival was nonexistent.

Your Calloused hand ripped the arrow from its punctured heart. Blood gushed from the wound. Flickers of life still brimmed in his eyes, and your rusted blade that was once on your hip sliced the stag's throat in thick jagad cuts. It was a painful way to die, but you still needed to eat, and it was a better way to go than dying slowly with an arrow in your heart. With his life gone with his blood, you began to cut open the stag. Your rusted serrated knife first cut around the anus of the creature and freed its colon, so all its guts would come out in one piece. Your knife ran up along its abdomen, just cutting through its hide, lest you accidentally cut into its bladder and spill piss all over the good meat. You cut off the balls and cock of the stage and discarded it. Then you cut it into the meat of the stag. Down to the bone. Making a gateway for all the guts to come pouring out. With the ridge of the pelvis now exposed, you began to cut through the hide of the sternum to join your work lower down.

As you reached the end of its ribs, you cut slowly so as not to puncture the stomach. The white lining that encased the organ was next. Your blade popped open the next lay, and you dug your fingers into the still-warm stag. You cut the lining in between your fingers, revealing the assortment of grey and brown organs. You took your knife and began to saw through the pelvic bone. Thick clumps of white dust gathered at the sides of your knife. You ripped out the chuck of bone and tossed it into the thick forest. Your knife was set aside in favour of your hands, and with one hand set on each side, you cracked open the pelvis. The weight of your body made the bones crack and splinter beneath you. With your serrated knife in hand, you began cutting through the ribcage of the creature. No longer be careful with your hands, and cut away at anything attaching the guts to the meat. You cut out the heart and set it aside along with the liver and kidneys before you pulled them cleanly from the once great stag. With your gutted stag and your hands bloody, it was time to head back to your fellow raiders.

You packed up the edible organs into your bag before you dragged the creature out of the forest by the antler. Picking up mushrooms, herbs, and anything worth eating along the way. The sun had only risen slightly in the time you were away from camp. Still, the others seemed to wake up at the smell of blood. Several crowded around you as you neared the cave, and soon the stag was taken from you to be cooked. Grunard threw you a water-soaked rag to clean your hands; the semi-dried blood wiped away easily. Though some still cringe under your fingernails.

Soon the stag was cut further down and cooked on an open fire. The smell of seared venison battled the stench of sweat all of you carried. A large wooden bowl of stew was set in front of you, filled to the brim with meat, mushrooms, and barley. All of which you had gathered, and as a result, you got the largest portion. The meat was tender; it fell apart in strings against your teeth. With your belly now filled and furs placed down for you, you laid down and fell into a dreamless sleep.

The unnoticed blackness of sleep was eventually painted with streaks of colour. The pigments merged and separated; shades of green, white, purple, and brown swirled until the colours were pulled into an image. It was the cave you had settled in—the same damp stone walls, the same sprouts of vegetation in every corner. But the fire was out, with only smoke rising from the ashes as a marker of its existence. Your heart began to pump faster as the image became clearer; gone were the other raiders, not even furs or weapons to remember them by. Your eyes turned to look out at the entrance of the cave. The meadows and thick forests of the southern landscape were gone. Instead, the stone walls drifted like smoke into a large candlelit room. High stone ceilings and dark wood floors. Every part of the room was filled with more luxuries and crafted with more expertise than you had ever seen. Even the fanciful homes of Mole's Town didn't compare to this. An obnoxiously large bed sat against the back wall, pillows and blankets practically oozing from the bed. A woman lay on the bed, her white hair reflecting a sliver of light. She sat up slightly, her snow-like hair rising with her, and her purple eyes settled on you. In your skin and in your bones, you knew this was a dream. The hazeness of Everything proved it. Yet she was so clear, so real; this was something else, something strange. The white-haired woman sat fully up amongst her luxuries; more gold adorned her than you had seen in all of the men of the frozen shore combined. To your fellow raiders, you spoke the common tongue, but this was not your native tongue; words in your own ancient language slipped from your tongue like oil. The deep, guttural words brought fear to the hearts of southerners, but that did not hold true for her. Curious, unblinking eyes stayed in a heavy lock with your own.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice light, airy, and in the strangest accent you had ever heard.

"The hog," You replied as your tongue slithered back into the position for common touch.

"Hog?" She questioned, her erie lavender eyes still locked with your own.

"There is not a name for it in the common tongue. It is like a You paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.

"Outside name. One you tell to strangers, ones outside kin," you said with hesitation, knowing your discomfort was clear. She was the strangest-looking and-sounding person you had ever met. Snow white hair and almost translucent lavender eyes. She was pretty, but her ghostly features and voice did nothing to sooth you. Before she could ask another question, you asked one of your own.

"What are you?" You said slowly that you didn't know if she was some vengeful spirit or a trickster here to trap you.

She seemed to think for a moment, pondering your question, unbridled with the fear you felt.

"A Targaryen, I suppose." Your face scrunched up in confusion at her answer, and words slipped from your lips freely.

"What the fuck is a Targaryen?" You said it in bewilderment. Finally, there was some emotion on her wide-eyed face. Her features scrunched up like yours had done as she thought of an answer.

"My mother says that we are the Royal House; Aemond says we are dragons; and Daeron would say we are conquerors. My father doesn't speak to me much, and when My elder brother Aegon speaks of our house, it is nothing but insults. I don't really know what makes a Targaryen—is it dragon riding, the white hair, or the violet eyes? Aemond always says Targaryens are the blood of Old Valeriya, so I would assume that's what we are."

The words dragon riding sung in your head again and again; you knew what she was. Disgust filled your heart like bile and spilled out onto your face. You had heard tales of the dragon-riding inbreeders that ruled the South. Sisters marrying brothers, uncles marrying nieces—it made you sick. Anger soon mixed with and amplified your disgust.

"I know who you are! Inbreeder!" You shouted as you ripped yourself from your furs and marched towards her. As you got to the edge of your world and the beginning of hers, you went to reach for her, but a force so potent ripped you back.

Your eyelids jumped open as you lunged yourself off the sweat-soaked furs you once slept on. Your eyes darted around the cave; the fire was still lit but had now dimmed, and your fellow raiders were still there. Just pack up to continue your journey. Your breath raged as your eyes bound from one spot to another.

"Bad dream?" Grunard said in a mocking tone.

"No, but it was a fucking strange one." You said you were too busy trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart to joke with him.

His curiosity seemed to be Peaked as you moved out of the furs and began packing up.

Well, aren't you going to tell me what it was, Hog?" He said it with a wrinkled brow.

You looked at him, and with an unwilling frown, you spoke.

"A Targaryen, you know the inbreeders that rule the south." You said this while stuffing the furs into the woven bag. He paused for a moment as his face became more serious.

"We're in the south now, Hog; the dark magic of Old Valeriya runs rampant here. A skinchanger like you should be careful; it could swallow you whole."

  Helaena

 

Helaena awoke with a jump; sweat poured from her brow, yet goosebumps ran along her skin. Her heart beated out of her chest as her breathing was like that of a panting dog. The setting sun stung her eyes; she had only meant to sleep a little while, but the constant visions that plagued her had drained Helaena. They were getting stronger and more clear. The light of the fire was out from the cold of the woman she saw. Tall, intimidating, and calculating, she is covered in thick fur and has clammy skin tattooed with foreign symbols on her hands and up her arms. She didn't set fear into Helaena's heart at first, but when the woman came for her, well, she couldn't help but shut her eyes and cover her ears at the memory. Yet something in Helaena knew the woman had a right to be so angry; something in her told her she too should be angry. Helaena never really thought much of her family's traditions; they had infected every aspect of her life since birth, so how could she judge the only way of life she knew? But in that moment, lying in bed with the setting sun illuminating the room with streaks of pink and orange, She, too, felt disgusted.

An uneasy feeling settled in Helaena as the sun set and the night began. She never really spoke to her husband or her brother. He had only visited her a few times in the night. He was always drunk beyond belief, and he cried. He always cried when they were forced to lay together. Thankfully for both of them, the visits have now ceased. Aegon rarely spoke to her, instead running off to the streets of silk and drinking anything that would dull his mind. She never understood why he did that, but now she does. It was to drown out the shivers of disgust that ran along his skin. She pulled the duvet from her and walked along the wooden floors towards Aegon's rooms. He would most likely be gone, already trying to escape reality.

As her fingers pushed open Aegon's door with a creak, her eyes Peaked in. He sat hunched over at the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyes and groaning. Helaena pushed open the door fully and stepped through. Aegon's tired eyes looked up at her with a grimace.

"What is it?" He said it with annoyance.

"What they did to us was bad, wasn't it?"

Her words caught Aegon off guard, and he looked at her fully and with interest. Helaena paused, her lip twitching.

"It was cruel," She said with a crack in her voice.

Aegon took a moment to speak, and when he did, tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

"It was"

[westsideterrier]

Gurnard's Head, Oct 2023.

[mwlphoto]

Gurnard's Head, Cornwall, Oct 2023.

[laurelnose]

everything in Syngnathiformes (seahorses and their allies) is so fucking weird is the thing. This is the most Shaped order of fishes of all time, except for maybe Tetraodontiformes (boxfishes, puffers, triggerfishes, and everyone’s besties the molas).

Like. There’s the seamoths above. One of their closer relatives in Syngnathiformes might be the flying gurnards and sea robins, which unlike just about everything else that evolved to walk on the ocean floor, made these horrid little witch fingers out of the first three fin rays instead of just making their fins into paws like frogfish or batfish. WHY ARE YOU A SPIDER!!

The cornetfishes and trumpetfishes are also in Syngnathiformes. This one is a red cornetfish (Fistularia petimba).

This one is a trumpetfish (Aulostomus chinensis) demonstrating what the mouth is for. It is a vacuum. Also I always forget the underside of jaws isn’t bony until some fucker adapts the whole apparatus to be stupid long and reveals the stretchiness inherent in the system.

Male rainbow belly freshwater pipefish (Microphis deocata) showing off his egg pouch. (On top of being the Most Shaped Guys Order, Syngnathiformes is also the Male Pregnancy order.) Most of the pipefishes just get a bit fatter around the middle while pregnant but this species put rainbow stripes on the pouch and adapted it for display. Well, I sure am looking.

If you like to look at animals on the internet you may already know what leafy seadragons are but did you know those come in uhhhh leafless? This is a ruby seadragon (Phyllopteryx dewysea). I was trained in a taxonomy lab so I have an extremely broad mental model for “shaped like a fish” and this is still the least fish-shaped fish I have ever seen. Why is it so...wiggly.

Banded bellowsfish (Centriscops humerosus). What the FUCK are you and WHY are you that shape

At first glance the shrimpfish (Aeoliscus punctulatus) appears mostly normally-shaped, with the weirdest thing about them being that they swim vertically with their heads pointed downwards. However, if you look closely you will notice they have shifted the dorsal (back), tail, and anal (belly) fins to ALL BE ON THE BELLY SIDE, to support their perversely-oriented lifestyle. You can SEE the 45° bend in their spine that makes this happen. Holy fuck.

False pipefish (probably Solenostomus halimeda). This is a cactus.

Another false pipefish (Solenostomus paradoxus) because the false pipefish family is wild. I think this is for camouflage? Most of the false pipefishes are Shaped for camouflage? And it kind of resembles the frondy thing with the yellow tips behind it? But also. What.

And of course, seahorses. You all know what a fucking seahorse looks like. Suffice to say they are also really weirdly shaped. Endless forms most beautiful but also endless forms most bizarre. This isn’t even touching how weird syngnathiform skeletons are.

Have another moth. (Pegasus laternarius)

thinking about seamoths (pegasidae). no teeth. bony armor plates under the skin. sheds the whole skin bit in one piece every 1-5 days. monogamous broadcast spawners. might be a seahorse but also might be something else. strongly resembles an animate piece of rubble with wings. inexplicable. adorable. i kiss him (Eurypegasus draconis) on his stubby little nose

[ltwilliammowett]

The barquentine Mildred (1889) struck rocks at Gurnards Head on April 6th 1912 at midnight.The captain and crew rowed to St Ives and were saved.

Photo courtesy of Gibson's of Scilly

[mycornishplace]

Looking towards Gurnards Head from Pendeen on a cloudless Autumn day

[semioticapocalypse]

Shipwreck. The Mildred, Gurnards Head, from Newport to London carrying slag. Scilly isles. 1912

[beatriceportinari]

Extremely important part of origami fishies... Always collecting more evidence

salmon/simple fish/angelfish/trout/sunfish

[ilovekernow]

The Gurnard's Head Inn