#Inner Ocean Records

[uncharismatic-fauna]

An Affinity for the Southern River Terrapin

The southern river terrapin (Batagur affinis), also known as the tungtung or the royal turtle, is a species of freshwater turtle residing, as its name implies, in the southern part of the Malaysian Peninsula, particularly along the western coast. They reside in estuaries, portions of large rivers that are regularly exposed to ocean tides.

While initially plain in appearance, the southern river terrapin can be visually striking. The body and shell are entirely black, or dark brown in females. The only spots of color are carried by males: bright yellow or white eyes and orange inner cheek flaps that are exposed when the mouth opens. Batagur affinis is also quite big, with females (the larger of the two sexes) reaching an average length of 62 cm (24 in) and a weight of 38 kg (83 lbs).

The tungtung is an omnivorous species. Its serrated beak allows it to feed on a variety of plants like grasses, algae, and fruits, as well as freshwater invertebrates like crustaceans and mollusks. Due to the high salinity of their habitats, they often leave the rivers and forage for food on land. The large size and thick shells of adults deters most predators. However, eggs and hatchlings are vulnerable to monitor lizards, otters, birds of prey, and crocodiles.

Mating for Batagur affinis occurs from October to February. Males and females remain relatively solo throughout the rest of the year, although they aren't overly territorial. Once a male locates a female, the two touch noses and he pulses his jaw to emphasize his bright orange cheek pouches and the white stripes on the inside of his throat. After copulation, the female lays a clutch of 20-40 eggs in nests dug in the sandy river bank. Young royal turtles hatch anywhere from 60-120 days later, depending on the temperature of the nest. Juveniles can take 18-22 years to reach maturity. Adults regularly reach ages well over 45, and individuals as old as 100 have been recorded.

Conservation status: The southern river turtle is considered Critically Endangered by the IUCN. Over-harvesting of both eggs and individuals has decimated populations, and those that remain are threatened by habitat destruction. However, both local and international conservation efforts have been underway to preserve the species and its ecosystem.

If you like what I do, consider buying me a ko-fi!

Photos

Eng Heng Chan

Paul Calle

Thorn Sophun

[amiya-shirou]

Thinking about how both Deepcolor and Arturia rejected the ocean despite We Many technically representing their ideal because they don't see meaning in a life lived following only instinct and devoid of art and individuality, yet while Arturia's music is based around playing the emotions of others while leaving herself empty Deepcolor's art is fueled by her own emotions which she then uses to paint the world around her. the one who most admires the Seaborn and see beauty in them has the most individuality and a stronger sense of self while the one who easily rejects them because she favors emotional connections sacrificed her own because she only lives through others

Arturia's ideal is for humanity to join together as a group and reach a level of connection similar to We Many, however she wants to achieve it without everyone having to sacrifice their individuality or sense of self - she's interested in learning about the inner minds of others, she wants people to have their own tune rather than mindlessly assimilating (the whole reason why she criticized the rigid music of Leithanien). her failure was that in trying to reach that understanding she forgot about her own self and became the furthest being from her ideal future. despite the priest describing art as humanity's weakness and a symbol of their selfishness, lacking this ego is the biggest reason Arturia is said to be unable to reach her dream of a kinder, better world where no one would be excluded

the climax of her character arc is when she finally manages to use her own emotions to fill the others' minds with her own music, which is somewhat reflective of what Amaia did to the Endspeaker, making it gain an ego and a will of its own to learn and understand, and that's what made it evolve into a higher state and reach the sky

and all of these themes are basically summarized in Deepcolor's short operation record! through her art she reached an understanding of the ocean that went beyond the canvas itself while the priest from the Church of the Deep could only see the canvas as a piece of cloth. she and Arturia needs to have a talk in Rhodes Island. Throw Dorothy in there too while we're at it

[batmansymbol]

can't remember the last time i made a blog post on this blog. i really am becoming the hermit i always aspired to be.

looking for somewhere to put this particular exhaustion though and journaling makes me feel lonely and lately all interpersonal interactions leave me with the feeling of having transgressed in many secret ways unknown to me. so vent follows. although for the record someday when i am a true hermit i will have found inner peace, and i will no longer make posts like this, and i instead will be able to identify a cypress tree on sight.

for now, i've been having this feeling of kneeling in the surf with my mouth open and the ocean trying to force itself down my throat. i'm working four jobs to make ends meet. they are meeting, barely. my 16-year-old car broke down for the last time, and this week i bought a new one from a man at a dealership who lied to me over the phone about hidden fees as though $900 meant nothing. now i have new car payments every month but i no longer hear a steady drip behind me in the car when it rains, can't decide which of the two feelings of dread is more potent. i loved that leaking car into its grave. i often wish i had a soul-crushing 9-to-5 that paid me $75,000 every year like clockwork. i am spreading myself too thin socially. i love everybody in my life. sometimes i receive profound and beautiful reactions to my writing, and also with four clicks i can see criticism of my work online that makes me feel like i should never have been born. i struggle to weight these experiences in a reasonable way in my mind. i have not read a new book since sally rooney's intermezzo. i hate everything i write but luckily the hatred comes in cycles, counterbalanced by defiant love, like my relationship with my forehead. i have to believe everything i write is the one (the one that will financially or artistically save me). i have to tell myself the one doesn't exist so as not to get my hopes up. i have to remind myself my problems are atomically small compared to nearly everything. i have to remind myself of this because sometimes it's the only thing that makes me feel human again. i have dreams about friends i had in high school and the shitty jokes i made to them, how much more sensitive i could have been. in the dreams they hate me, or forgive me, or hit me. last april at age 28 i began to have back pain every single night from a degenerated spinal disc and now at age 30 i have anti-arthritis pills in my toiletries bag. it hurts to lean back in a chair, but i have all my limbs and my mind. i wonder every day why i'm not doing something differently. my inability to do anything meaningful disgusts me. i find meaning whenever i open the blinds. i have forgotten to switch my car insurance to my new vehicle, so after i press Post Now i will go to the website that will ask me for my password and to confirm i am myself.

[khaire-traveler]

🧜🏾‍♂️Subtle Triton Worship 🐚

Blow into a conch shell, especially when by the ocean or a body of water

Clean up trash by the ocean shore or any body of water

Go swimming, especially in the ocean; play pool games

Go diving (Safely, please)

Get a candle that reminds you of him; no altar needed

Wear jewelry that reminds you of him

Keep a picture of him in your wallet

Help any beached sea creature you stumble across (Or any fish that wash up on a lake and are alive)

Learn about the invasive species in any bodies of water in your area; advocate for their removal, and remove them if you come across any (And are able to do so safely)

Collect any seashells or pretty stones you come across near water

Have a fish, dolphin, horse, or crab stuffed animal

Have imagery of the ocean (especially the deep sea), conch shells, tridents, sea creatures/plants, and merfolk (especially those with two tails or dolphin tails) around

Try eating seafood or seaweed (Be aware that many people are often allergic to shellfish!!! Shrimp, crabs, lobsters, etc.)

Keep a pet fish or water dwelling creature; be sure to research the animal first to ensure quality of life under your care

Stay hydrated; drink lots of water throughout the day

Drink warm water with honey stirred in

Donate to or support ocean/river/lake-focused organizations or animal shelters

Learn about the deep sea marine life; learn about any form of marine life

Go sailing, paddle boarding, kayaking, etc. (Safely)

If you don't know how to swim, take swimming lessons or have someone teach you; always wear a lifejacket or floaties for your safety, until you feel comfortable with your skill

Practice asserting yourself and standing your ground; do your best to assert your personal boundaries; take time to learn what your boundaries are if you aren't sure

Take a warm shower/bath when you feel overwhelmed; use the water to cleanse and relax you

Leave a glass of water on your windowsill for the night or day; either replace or drink it after a few hours (you don't need to have water there constantly, it's just a once in a while thing)

Keep a jar of seaglass; make art from it or simply put it in the light, it'll look great either way

Collect ethically sourced shark teeth; collect ethically sourced fossils of ocean creatures

Learn to play the trumpet, trombone, French horn, or other brass instrument

Embrace your inner strength; celebrate how far you've come and how resilient you are

Ground yourself near a body of water, particularly the ocean; allow yourself to be one with the waves or subtle ripples of water; match your breath to the tide if you can

Fall asleep/meditate to the sound of ocean waves or sea creatures

Wash your hands/face with salt water

Dance/sing to music that makes you feel empowered or badass

-

This one was definitely tough because I struggled to find historical accounts of Triton being worshipped. Typically, I can draw some ideas from that if I'm not familiar with a deity, but Triton didn't have many records of worship, despite being widely accepted as Poseidon and Amphitrite's son. He was mostly known as Poseidon's herald, and in some accounts, he was even Athena's foster parent, yet there is still such little information about him to be found.

At least for now, this is my list of discreet ways to worship Triton. I hope to be able to add more in the future, and I hope that it's still helpful to people as is. Take care, y'all, and chill with the waves. 💚

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

[renard-dartigue]

Kaiju no 8 ch.116 Review

Alright so after a couple more reads I finally have my thoughts together about the latest chapter.

Spoilers ahead:

So to start out, I love how we get extra context into why Narumi doesn't like Hoshina.

I like how on sight it was from the start lmao. And Soshiro's older brother being annoying seems to be universal lol. Its no wonder Narumi already had a poor impression.

However, using his eyes, he's able to see Hoshina's potential as a valuable asset. Given Commander Shinomiya's influence on him, its obvious Narumi values having strong people by his side.

I just love how much Narumi cares about looking cool. It's like a kid trying to impress the new kid on the block for street cred. 💀 But Narumi is clearly being genuine here. He acknowledges Hoshina as someone strong and potentially dependable.

It's actually a massive honor for the captain of the first squad to come to you personally and offer you a place in his unit. And Hoshina would have definitely fit as Narumi's Vice-Captain.

And so it was a get punch to to Narumi's pride when Hoshina turned him down. This was probably the first time someone has ever turned him down. And then Hoshina when on to climb up the ranks and beat Narumi's records in close combat. Its no wonder he's pissed off.

So here we are in present day, Narumi and Hoshina teaming up to fight No.9. A team up that has been anticipated for a very long time.

And boy oh boy was it glorious!

I believe it was back in the chapter where Hoshina and no.10 fought where it hinted at this, with Hoshina needing to distance him and 10 from the other troops so he didn't hurt anyone.

In the current fight, Hoshina is looking out for Narumi's attacks and dealing damage as well.

And man is Narumi not pulling any punches lmao. But its 9 so he really can't afford to hold back. Narumi really is a monster.

Even 10 is excited to potentially fight Narumi. But Hoshina doesn't fuck with that idea lol.

What in the scarecrow is going on with Narumi's face???? Is that No.1 manifesting due to him pushing his power to the limit? Or is a representation of Narumi's barely contained monstrous inner power. Regardless it's sick.

Also love how Hoshina still has Kafka's well being in mind. Settling my gay brain aside, he really is a considerate vice-captain.

But of course since Naoya Sensei likes fucking with us, Narumi and Hoshina's attack doesn't phase No.9 and now I'm worried about them.

MEANWHILE, Kafka is sinking in his mind ocean again, on the verge of death, but this time someone else is there. I think the next chapter is going to confirm a thought that I had all the way back when Kafka first started training with Hoshina. When Kafka saw a phantom samurai.

My thought was about how the samurai Kafka saw had the same eyes as Kafka's kaiju. What if the kaiju shifting power has existed for centuries, assisting humanity in fighting kaiju. Also, I always thought that Kafka's form never looked complete. His face plate is always cracked, and his body looks exposed without armor. But that could just be me lol.

Yall I think Kafka is going to go super sayain 2.

[outofangband]

Whales and dolphins related world building 🐋🐳💙

I was so so lucky enough to go on a whale watch (I saw basking sharks too!!!!!!) a couple weeks ago so I wanted to do some world building for Beleriand. I have some on Valinor here and as always I always wish to elaborate especially on some of my thoughts on Turgon, Ulmo and the appearance of whales in dreams

Fox related world building

Polar whales are endemic to the waters south of the Helcaraxë and are the most rarely seen by the elves of Beleriand. They have a somewhat shadowed reputation with the northern Sindar and Avarin elves.

Narwhals likewise are only seen from the Helcaraxë. Records of them entered the writings of Noldor hosts who came to Beleriand, occasionally appearing in art and in nightmares. Beluga whales were seen once or twice and were named ghost whales by the host of Fingolfin.

Turgon commissioned paintings of whales he had seen upon one of the inner palace walls, as part of a tribute to Ulmo. Species of immense, mysterious whales appear in his dreams until his death. Indeed, lore about the significance of whales and dolphins in elven dreams is widespread in both Beleriand and Valinor with many attaching prophetic importance to some kinds of imagery.

Dolphins are the most common cetacean seen from the coasts of Beleriand. Common dolphins, striped dolphins, bottle nose dolphins, and false killer whales are the most commonly seen. Elves of the Falathrim as well as the Sindar of Nevrast and Avarin groups in southwestern coastal Beleriand take great joy in these sightings.

Harbor porpoises lived near the havens of Sirion and became a symbol of escape and freedom among the refugees there. They often followed the boats of Eärendil and other sailors.

There are also several species of river dolphin, likely species that do not exist in today’s world. I’ve always enjoyed the idea of at least one species living in the sanctuary of Nan Tathren, known only from the earliest songs of elves of Beleriand, with many believing them to be myths.

There is an Avarin folktale of an elf Prince or maiden coming across a beached dolphin and aiding it. In some versions the dolphin is in actuality a disguised or trapped Maia of Ulmo.

Baleen whales are rarely seen from the coast of Beleriand however several species are observed and recorded by Falathrim sailors and occasionally those staying upon Barad Nimras. Indeed there is a history of extensive records of marine mammals and their behavior in both the Havens of the Falas and upon Barad Nimras. Fin whales, common minke whales, and most rarely, grey whales have been recorded.

Given Ulmo’s genuine presence in Beleriand and its waters, it can be difficult to distinguish between mythology and folklore involving marine mammals and phenomena, and Ulmo’s existence. That being said, while Ulmo does manifest through marine mammals, there are differences in mythology regarding the ocean between the various coastal populations.

[ilookbehindthewall]

Taylor Swift's new album is about herself

I only hear, "It's about Matty!" "It's about Travis" "She sings about Joe!" No, no... I think she's singing mostly about herself. Who says "he" directly refers to a lover?

I'm pretty sure many songs are about her internal and public identity. I believe none of us can imagine what life must be like as Taylor Swift. The most successful singer currently with probably the largest fan community. She's probably often told she has to pretend.

"They said, 'Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it' and I did" (Song: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart)

I think Taylor's true self has something to hide... something most people won't understand/accept.

Why do I think it's about Taylor herself? There are many clues in her lyrics that I'll list shortly. But first, let me show you something else.

Taylor Swift wrote the following on Tumblr: "When I was writing the Fortnight music video, I wanted to show you the worlds I saw in my head that served as the backdrop for making this music. Pretty much everything in it is a metaphor or a reference to one corner of the album or another. For me, this video turned out to be the perfect visual representation of this record and the stories I tell in it."

So, the Fortnight video reflects the stories she tells in TTPD. So, let's take a very close look at the music video 👀

Right at the beginning, you can see Taylor taking a Forget Him pill. The number on the bottle starts on her birthday (December 13, 1989) and ends on the release date of her new album (April 19, 2024). How can people still think it's about specific lovers? She literally tells us it's not about a man here. Did she know Joe/Matty/Travis since birth? No, I don't think so. I think it's about her forgetting "him," her true self.

Because she's Taylor Swift, she has to be perfect as everyone wants her to be without flaws, right?

April 19, 2024, represents the date the album comes out, as she's now telling us the complete story about "him." About her inner true self, because she's not taking the pill anymore. Her last sentence from the whole album in The Manuscript is "But the story isn’t mine anymore."

In fortnight, she sings about how she and he were together for 14 days. So, for 14 days, she was herself, her true self. However, something happened as it's not the case anymore.

In "Down Bad," it becomes even clearer. "For a moment I knew cosmic love. Now I'm down bad crying at the gym"

She briefly found herself but is back to square one, wearing a mask. Another line would be a hint that she's singing about herself.

"They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about the existence of you"

Why would people think she's crazy if she talks about the existence of a lover?

"I loved your hostile takeovers"

That's very literal. She loves it when she's her true self and shows that to the public.

"I'll build you a fort on some planet. Where they can all understand it"

I think Taylor's true self has something to hide... something most people won't understand/accept.

"This cage was once just fine. Am I allowed to cry?I dream of cracking locks. Throwing my life to the wolves. Or the ocean rocks. Crashing into him tonight" (Song: Guilty as Sin?)

She's trapped in a cage; she wants to break free and show her true self to everyone. But showing her true self would have consequences. She describes it very well here. Her true self has something to hide that apparently many people don't acknowledge?

"What if I roll the stone away? They're gonna crucify me anyway. What if the way you hold me. Is actually what's holy?If long-suffering propriety. Is what they want from me. They don't know how you've haunted me. So stunningly.I choose you and me... Religiously"

She hints at religion in several songs.It could be that her true self has something to hide in a religious context.

There are more clues that could be interpreted this way.But I believe that would exceed the scope.

Thanks for reading :)

~Hanna

[malebodyexhibit]

Room 214 (a Next Door Boy tale)

The dude with the fair hair leaned over the rail, looking over the ocean. The lull in the crashing of waves gave way to the sounds of excited beachgoers. He wore a loose tank top colored in an abstraction of the horizon at sunset. The tank top was of the sort to cover less than half his torso. The sleeveless article showed his sun-kissed shoulders, the bulging biceps, and the vascularity of his forearms. The gaping sleeve holes revealed a portion of his pecs and the length of his side. The sculpted obliques of his core slowly contracted with each breath. As his arms, thick and roped with muscle, lay over the railing, a wild shock of armpit hair danced lazily in the breeze. Yet, despite the toned upper body of a surfer, he ass demanded equal, if not all your attention. It filled his board shorts and the fabric clung all to intimately along the creases. It was when he straightened himself that his full presence could be seen below.

His name was Adriano.

I reclined the seat back. The tint of the car window obfuscating myself as I observed him across the parking lot. I pulled out a pocket notebook and wrote some notes. Among the scrawls of details  were the start of plans.

Adriano turned towards me, but I reminded myself he doesn’t know me. He hadn’t suspected anything these past weeks. I slid on a pair of sunglasses and shifted in my seat to hide an obvious erection. While the glimpse of his body from behind was hot, his chest was smoldering. From the lip of his tank top collar, wisps of chest hair caught in the sunlight. A line of sweat from his neck trails down and followed his collar bone and down along the crease of his pecs. He started towards the lockers.

I pulled up the collar of my loose tropical print shirt and stepped out into the public.

I followed him. My erection tucked under my belt. I was usually controlled in these matters. My line of work has me around all types. Growing up with a father who loved the bottle had me mask my true feelings. Yet, Adriano was something. He wasn’t your typical hottie. That must be why I was hired to follow him.

A month ago, I received an e-mail. The job was simple: find Adriano, learn his schedule and inner circle of friends, gain access to his residence, and receive further instructions. I was a cat burglar by trade. Don’t expect me to steal the Mona Lisa, but I do well enough not to have a record. Espionage was new however. I managed to find Adriano quickly. I could’ve accessed his shitty studio apartment immediately, but I decided to develop a comprehensive schedule of his before attempting breaking and entering.

Adriano was in the locker area. He had already stripped and was in the process of pulling out a pair of trunks. As I entered, heart thumping, he stood up, clothes in hand, dick flopping out.

“Sorry, dude,” he said. He gave me an apologetic smile. His hand pulling a different pair of board shorts up and his other hand readjusting his package after snaking it back in. Then Adriano shut his locker and headed back out. I couldn’t help but notice the bounce of his member while he went commando.

After he left, I took quick assessment of the space. The structure had a basic shower and an adjoining locker area. For a small fee he rented a spot and it was alfays the same locker. Number 14. There was no one around. I walked over to the locker. I pulled out some delicate tools. In a matter of seconds I managed to lock pick the cheap security.

The locker screeched open. I took out his tank top.

It was the abstract sunset from earlier. It was gradient of violet and magenta hues. In the center was a circle of auburn; an impression of the sun. There were still stains of sweat  along the collar. The fabric warmed my hands. I ran my fingers over it. Over where the nape of his neck was. I buried my face in the center of the clothing where I imagined where his chest would be. I breathed in the sweat and pressed my lips over the wet sweat stains. My other hand came along the back where I imagined his back would be. I rubbed myself against the imagined body. My hands tracing the length of cloth, thinking of the curve of his ass. And as I pressed him closer to me, my hand came over my member. I gasped into the shirt, my mouth sucking in his scent. I rubbed my hand against my erection and the sensation grew in intensity as I drowned in his smell. I gasped as I came into my pants and relaxed into a stupor of satisfaction.

I sorted myself out and tossed his shirt back into the locker. I dug around in the locker, finding a myriad of items. I found spare change, receipts, chewing gum, wallet, and Adriano’s apartment keys. Bingo. I was about to turn and leave with the keys in hand when something caught my eye. Condoms. Ribbed for her pleasure. It was stuffed into the faux-leather wallet like spare change. The plastic thin foil was crumpled, but the wrapper read clearly: Magnum. Clearly he thought to highly of himself. But maybe not. I turned the condom in my fingers. The image of his flaccid dick replaying in my mind. I pocketed the condom and tossed the wallet back into the locker. It was stupid, but it was the only way I could pull myself away and back to the task at hand.

I pulled back into the parking lot near the locker building. I had copied Adriano’s keys at a local locksmith and I sent an e-mail to the client about the development. While waiting for a response, I walked back into the locker room. It was busier than before. I slipped past changing men. Most old, some young and toned, but Adriano wasn’t among them. Through the locker’s grill, I dropped in Adriano’s key. And with that, I returned to my car.

After an hour or so, I saw Adriano return to the locker building with a girl. From my observations, Adriano was a ladies’ man who could sweet talk most women back into his apartment. She was a pretty thing, I guess. She had curves, a chest of fake breasts, a horrendous sun tan, and she laid on the seductive charm so thick. She twirled her hair around her fingers, and ran her other fingers up and down Adriano’s abs. With a coy grin, she slipped a finger under his shorts.

Adriano was enjoying this. His face flushed and his eyes widened with arousal. He gave a smile. His chest rose and fell as he pumped himself up, hands at his waist, looking like Superman. They kissed and he combed his fingers through her hair. His free hand curving around her back. When he pulled back from the kiss, he mouthed something in her ear. His lips tickling her ear and she giggled. He shifted and noticed me staring from my car. He must have recognized me, because he gave me a smile and a wink.

My phone chimed with an e-mail notification.

“To ___, thank you for your hard work. It is greatly appreciated. You will be paid for your services, but I am offering greater compensation for another task. Do you accept?”

I responded, “Yes.”

I left Adriano at the beach. The next set of instructions required me to race to his apartment before he arrived. It was so risky, but so profitable. I needed to make a quick stop at the location of a dead drop given to me in the response to my acceptance. The package contained some strange contraptions with a set of instructions. But before I could read them, I needed to be secured at his apartment.

His apartment building was a four-story historic building. It was here I first laid my eyes on him when he went out for his morning run. The client mentioned to me Adriano’s running spots. That’s how Adriano caught his attention. His shirtless running in 5-inch athletic shorts.

Room 214. I unlocked the door and walked in. An aroma of body odor and Axe body spray greeted me. The blinds were closed. I had tried to get visual from the windows before, but I guessed either his frequent hookups or a possible nudist lifestyle (I can dream) caused him to value privacy here. The studio apartment was a mess. Clothes littered the ground. Boxers, pants, shirts, socks. I picked up a gym sock gray with use. I gave it a smell and dropped it from surprise. I didn’t know how to appreciate that smell or wash it from my fingers.

His bed was a futon resting on pellet boards. It didn’t have any bedsheets and there was only wrinkled blankets and a pillow strewn across it. I pressed my hand into it. The bed springs groaned. It smelled equally rank to the room. It got hot during the summer nights. I imagined him twisting around his bed, screwing on his bed, coming on his bed.

I rummaged in his drawers. Aside from his shirts and regular clothing, I browsed his underwear. He collected many brands. Some were worn to the elastic. But I now knew he went commando as well. Then I found his wrapped latex. I toyed with one with mixed arousal and admiration. Finally I tore one open. The gold wrapper glimmering like his fair hair in the sun. I pulled down my pants. I rolled it over my cock. It was snug, but not enough to convince me that I could wear it. I wasn’t fooled. This was only fit for him. I pumped myself at the thought. I sprawled out on his bed, buried my face into the musky smell of his bed. I pulled a dirty sock toward my face, imagining tasting his sweaty body after a workout. “Adriano, Adriano,” I breathed with each pump. I closed my eyes as I came. I slid the condom off my member. The spermicide and lube coating my hand. I rubbed the gross sensation off onto the bed. He wouldn’t notice.

I settled myself deep into his closet. The irony wasn’t lost on me, but it also reminded me of hiding during father’s weekend binge drinking. I was lost in memories when I heard the apartment door jiggle and unlock, then open. A girlish laugh greeted the dark room. The door slammed shut, shaking me loose from a memory.

I heard clothes being tossed onto the bare floor.

“Like what you see?” I heard Adriano say.

“Yeah,” the one-night fling responded. I heard the wet kissing and soft moans. Without seeing what was happening, I only imagined what sounds meant what. The sucking sounds and the deep grunting must be Adriano getting his mind blown. The increasingly loud moans must be the expertise of Adriano in practice. Eventually the sounds cooled down and ended with a grunt from him as he came.

They got dressed in silence with the hook up trying to start up the kissing again, but a hushed whisper and a closing door told me she was gone. Then I heard Adriano throw himself back onto the bed and in a few minutes I heard the soft snores.

I carefully left the closet. The device in my hand from the dead drop. I saw AdrIano in his splendor on the bed. He hadn’t bothered to dress. It was a hot summer night and he was sprawled spread-eagle, face down. I appreciated how his fair hair clung to his sweaty neck. A trail of hair along his back came down to his ass. From his groin I saw his testicles and his shaft peeking from beneath him, just hanging out from underneath him.

I needed to act fast to complete the mission.

Gingerly, I took the device and attached it at points around his head before settling  a spiderweb netting on top. I started up a handheld device and once it glowed green I pressed the button.

I’m not sure what I expected. Probably a flash of light or an electric shock, but nothing really happened. I thought I saw Adriano twitch, but it could be a trick of the light.

There was a knock at the door. Just like the directions detailed.

I opened the door, unsure if the device worked or if Adriano would wake up suddenly.

At the door were a couple of men. One was young and didn’t emote. He was stoic despite the situation. He carried a bag and headed straight to Adriano’s body. The other was an older gentleman. He carried himself carefully. He wore a rich-looking peacoat that ill fitted him. He must have known as he took it off and rested it on a nearby chair.

“Greetings, ___,” he said to me. “It’s good to see you. Thank you for all that you’ve done. It mustn’t have been an easy job.”

“It was an alright job,” I said. I glanced toward Adriano who hadn’t moved, but still continued to breathe and snore. The spiderweb netting still wrapped around his head. The other man was tinkering with extra devices and running wires to a laptop.

“No doubt I underestimated you.” He said, smiling. He shuffled over to Adriano, looked around the room, and picked up a sock. “Oh, the joys of being young. Even in filth, the beautiful thrive.”

“What are you planning to do with him?” I asked. Now the other man was fixing wires to the old man, connecting him to the laptop. “Why all this? Why have me collect the schedule and names of his friends?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Adriano is a man I come to love. Ever since I saw him running. I envied his youth and beauty. Of course, he wouldn’t be with someone like me. So I made connections with some entrepreneurs from the Next Door Boy agency. Adriano isn’t a talent. If he was this would have been easier. Instead he selfishly keeps that body for himself. He could be rich but instead lives in squalor. I intend to make his life worth living by living his life for him.”

I was speechless but said nothing as I watched the other man finish his work and eventually I watched as the final switch was flipped and Adriano’s body spasmed and shake on the futon. The old man’s body followed likewise. The only difference was that it was only Adriano who stood up and carefully gazed at his hand in amazement. He ran his hand over his face and down his body. He felt each curve of muscle and each hair on his body. Then he looked up at me and smiled that coy smile.

“It worked!”

The other man had already packed up his devices and started to heft the old man’s body over his shoulder. In a minute the apartment was emptied save the two of us. Adriano, or rather the old man who wore the young surfer’s body, and I stood looking at each other. I tried not to look down at his member.

“So why are you still here?” I said. “I thought you’d have left with… him.” I was at a loss for the lack of names. The situation was surreal.

“I’ll be blunt,” Adriano said. His voice strong and well enunciated. It lacked the surfer drawl and the clipped slang. “This is not exactly legal. Paying you off and paying for that expert costed me a lot. That’s why I had you do that research. I can’t exactly go back to my old life. It doesn’t exist for me anymore. I intend to live here, as him, and remake myself again.” He walked over to his peacoat that hung from the chair. He dropped it over his nude body. The effect was equally ridiculous and arousing. His muscled frame wore the coat well. It followed the slender but toned arms and hugged the tight core. His cock hung openly beneath the coat. He must have realized how ridiculous it was as he started to play with himself. He looked back at me. “I can tell you like this body.”

“He is hot. I mean… you are hot.”

“Yeah. I guess I should get used to calling it my body.” He looked around him at the surfer jock’s apartment. “And my apartment.” Then he looked at me. “And my… friend?”

I laughed. “I don’t think making friends is that easy.”

“It can be. You’re an attractive man. If not a friend, then maybe a warm mouth for my cock?”

He brought me in for a kiss. His strong hands felt my back and grabbed my ass. I stripped off his coat and ran my tongue around his nipple. We fell back onto the futon. I was getting used to the smell of stale sex and sweat. Adriano grabbed my ankles and held them in the air, my ass ready for him. Before he could enter, I slowed him down  and reached for a condom from my pocket. It was the condom I taken from Adriano’s locker earlier. He smiled, ripped it open with his teeth, and rolled it on.  We both took a moment to appreciate how well his cock filled out the magnum. He thrusted into me and I wrapped my legs around him. He was going harder and harder as if he could barely contain his own strength. He was getting louder as well. He was animalistic in his moans and when he came, he collapsed on top of me. We laid there, basking in exertion.”

“Sorry if I got a little rough. His body feels so strong. I feel everything so powerfully.”

“It’s alright,” I said. And without realizing it, I rested my palm atop Adriano’s chest and listened to his heart pound in my ear.

[adapembroke]

What Does Scorpio Feel Like?

I’m currently working on a series of lectures for the Narrative Astrology Lab called “Voices of the Signs.” I’m interested in the signs as archetypes or spirits, beings with their own will, who possess us like Aphrodite walking before Helen in The Iliad.

Each lecture in the series focuses on one of the astrological signs, asking questions like: What does the energy of the sign feel like? What does it want? What is it trying to inspire us to do?

Because I’m taking a spiritual approach to the signs, I begin each lecture with an evocation. My intent is to invite the sign into the space, but, so far, I have found that the sign is there when we arrive, waiting for us to begin. By the time I’m ready to give a lecture, I have spent a week or two preparing, communing with the sign on my own, and it is as if the sign has cabin fever from being cooped up with me and is impatient to meet the rest of the lab.

While I was preparing the lecture on Scorpio, I had a particularly vivid experience of the sign. I stopped what I was doing and pulled out a notebook to record the experience.

This is what happened:

I had a suspicion that working on the Scorpio talk would put me in a scorpionic headspace, but I didn’t expect it to be like this.

First, I avoided preparing the talk at all. I usually give myself two weeks to work on these talks, and I “accidentally” gave myself a week.*

Now that I’m actually in it, I am simultaneously depressed and looking at my depression from the outside with this cold quipping:

“You’re listening to Radiohead? Really? This really is the end of all things, isn’t it? And now you’re putting your notifications on mute, so no one can get through to you with affection. AirPods in. Pen out. Self-pity activated. Do you even want to be happy? And now we’re pulling out the ephemeris and looking for a planet to blame. Hasn’t Saturn been your punching bag for long enough?”

Thoughts like these go on.

While I listen to the Scorpio playlist I’m building on Spotify, I feel myself fall into the depression completely. I embrace it instead of running from it, and it is amazing how different it feels embracing it this way. I feel more alive, not less alive. Everything is dark and beautiful, sad and intensely passionate. I feel like an iceberg has fallen into the ocean of my heart and is melting.

I was reading about Scorpio in The Inner Sky [by Steven Forrest], and I am really interested in the part about desire. Really opening up to the reality of death is supposed to help you pinpoint what you really desire.

“If you had six months to live,” he asks. “What would you do?”

The thought of knowing what I really want is appealing to me, so I am spending some time meditating on the question. At first, I was really focused on using that question to find an object of desire. What do I want? Who do I want? What do I want to do?

In The Book of Water, Steven says that when you don’t know what you want, and you are in a scorpionic space, you feel this inexplicable pressure, and that’s exactly what happened when I tried to find the object of my desire. I had no idea what I wanted, but I could feel the shape of it trying to swim up to the surface of my consciousness.

I reached out to embrace the answer, but nothing came. Nothing. At first, I was certain that this was more avoidance. Then, I realized that what I really wanted wasn’t to have or to do anything. There was no object of my desire. All I wanted was to feel.

I want to feel this much emotional intensity. The dark, beautiful, sad passion. Right now.

I have been musing on the idea of desire without an object ever since this experience. Is the feeling of desire without an object part of the experience of pure Scorpio? Is Scorpio found in the dark, delicious passion of desire when there is an object of our desire? Or is the fact that there was no object of desire present an essential part of Scorpio’s nature?

Put another way, is Scorpio itself raw desire, desire without an object? Are the stories that we tell about what we want really just sophisticated attempts to avoid the idea that it’s a feeling we’re after, and the object of our desire itself isn’t really the point?

I know that these questions are scorpionic in nature, but I don’t know how to answer them.

Somehow, I think that’s the point.

*Unconscious avoidance behaviors are a classic response to Scorpio.

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[ramblings-from-the-ether]

Prohibition AU: The Family

The Outer Circle

These members have a limited amount of knowledge into the scale or even the degree-of-illegality of Naven's empire (Bliss Ocean).

Molly Blyndeff, trudging through hard times with an uncaring family, Ms Blyndeff has been quietly emancipated in exchange for her eyes, ears, and unassuming demeanor. A little spy in short.

Trixie Roughhouse, a close friend of Molly's with a fascination with concoctions. Upon introduction, they were assigned to be apprenticed in moonshining at one of Naven's underground distilleries, though they personally prefer experimenting for unknown product.

Phoenica Fleecity, another friend of Molly's. She isn't of much use in criminal activities (also the least informed of Naven's doings), but her generous allowance does help grease the financial side of activities she has no business knowing about.

Howie Honeyglow, an engineer and construction contact of Naven's. He provides maintenance and solves any lack of facilities for 'business activities', by building them up in record time with little excess charges.

Giovanni Potage, leader of a band of misfits who broke off from another street gang; now in Naven's employ. As mentioned in a previous post, he provides the majority of grunt work in Sweet Jazz City for Bliss Ocean. His talent lies in his rousing leadership which keeps morale steady no matter the branch, much to Naven's surprise. Hosts weekly hotpot nights for his brothers (in-arms).

Percival King, the officer who chose peace. She sees Naven as a major businessman with some connections to the criminal underworld; thus a deal was struck where Percy cooperates with Naven in removing the violence on the streets (and kills off competition) while Percy avoids further investigating Naven's influence that made the deal possible.

Indus Tarbella. Formerly Mera's self-declared servant and bodyguard, he now provides security and butler-like services in extension to Naven as a means to remain close to Mera.

The Inner Circle

Everyone here has blood on their hands. These are the men and women who initiates and executes the family's plans. Aka Bliss Ocean Proper.

Zora Salazar: former bounty hunter, gunsmith, and living action film 'protagonist'. Once carried out a hit halfway across the country within a single day by jumping off a wing of a plane midair onto a passing train to cut time. She usually works alone over larger distances outside of Sweet Jazz City.

Mera Salamin, the main (once) licensed surgeon and occasional strategist. She was out of a career after leaving glass shards in a patient and former co-worker who allegedly harassed her. But her swift manner of action caught Naven's attention, and she refuses to play on the sidelines this time.

Ramsey Murdoch is the accountant and financial advisor, mainly for Naven's legitimate ventures but also reaffirms good and competitive business sense for an empire balancing its legal and illegal standings. Whilst Naven is a great dealmaker, Ramsey makes those bigger deals possible.

The Driver is Naven's eyes on the city, as well as his personal companion. Always (seemingly) a different person to outsiders, some speculate that Naven has Sweet Jazz City's private chauffeurs under his patronage. Though in reality, Yoomtah Zing is a master of disguise and has a more hands-on role in managing Naven's criminal operations alongside Mera.

Naven Nuknuk, former arms dealer to the IRA and the man who came from selling apples to apple cider. He is just a small fish in comparison to the big bosses in New York or Chicago, no need to pay heed to him! (The FBI certainly doesn't anymore)

[blackhalee]

Very good information of pregnancy from the Yoruba cultural spiritual context:

In the Ifá Creation Myth, the Irúnmolè made the journey from Heaven to Earth in a chain. Just before they reached the surface of the earth, they put some sand in the waters and put a guinea fowl in the sand. When the hen began to scratch the sand, the surface of the earth began to spread, creating solid earth. In Yoruba Ilé Ifè means spreading the earth. So Ilé Ifè is both the capital of the Yoruba Nation and anywhere on the land was land formed in the middle of the oceans.

Humans come to earth through their mothers' pregnancy. According to Ifá, the development of a baby in the womb is guided by specific Irúnmolè in each phase of growth. The genetic characteristics of the human body are determined by Obatala. translated in English, Obàtálá means,; "Chief of the White Cloth." In metaphysical conditions Obàtálá is the Force in Nature that transforms light into matter and gives form to physical Creation.

The selection of genetic characteristics is determined by Korí who is considered the guardian of the spirit of those souls who are preparing to reincarnate in human form. It is Korí that determines the genetic mix of the pool of maternal and paternal influences. 6 the wide range of human physical characteristics is the result of the influences of Obàtálá, Olokún, Oluorogbo, Aláàánú, Oloore, Sùngbèmí, Mágbèmítì, Sáàrágàa and Èjùfìrì.

After conception has occurred and genetic transfer has taken place, the child in the womb is guided by Àjàlá-mòpín and Alududun-Orún. It is Ajdld-mopin's task to select a specific Odu that guides the formation of the individual's Orí (consciousness). After birth, this selection is revealed through divination and the child's parents are given the instruction

regarding the Spirit being selected to guide the spiritual growth of the baby.

This process is the source of the term Òrìsà which means "select head." Once the Òrìsà has been determined, the elements of physical and mental potential have been established. These components are recorded by Aludundun-Orún and become components of the destiny of each individual. Aludundun-Orún means "All Good Things in Heaven." are a fundamental belief of Ifá that if any person lives their life in harmony with destiny, in harmony with their community and in harmony with the Forces of Nature, they will develop good character and experience long life, abundance, good character; and inner peace.

When the child prepares to enter the world by passing through the birth canal, the child enters the realm of Edo-Aro and Odo-Axis. All the memory of previous incarnations and the specific components of the destiny chosen for the current incarnation are forgotten here. This information remains under the protection of the Ipori which is described as the perfect individual living double in Orún (Heaven).

It is the task of all those who worship Ifá and Òrìsà to illuminate those forgotten aspects of destiny that are preserved by Ipori. This enlightenment occurs through divination, meditation, dreams and ecstatic dancing. All these techniques are the methods for creating the Mystical Vision. In Yoruba, the Mystical Vision is called "Láé-láé." The experience of Láé-láé is beyond the limitations of objective language. For this reason Láé-láé is described in mythical and symbolic conditions.

Láé-láé is that place where human consciousness enters into direct communion with the transcendent source of all forms of consciousness.

In the experience of Láé-láé the Orí, Orí inu and Ipori become one. The ceremonial process of initiation (Igbódu) is designed to invoke the mystical knowledge of Láé-láé and give an experience of the perfect alignment to the initiate with the ego and world that occurs when the Orí, Orí inú and Ipori function as one.

[apod]

2023 April 29

Solar Eclipse from a Ship Image Credit: Fred Espenak

Explanation: Along a narrow path that mostly avoided landfall, the shadow of the New Moon raced across planet Earth's southern hemisphere on April 20 to create a rare annular-total or hybrid solar eclipse. From the Indian Ocean off the coast of western Australia, ship-borne eclipse chasers were able to witness 62 seconds of totality though while anchored near the centerline of the total eclipse track. This ship-borne image of the eclipse captures the active Sun's magnificent outer atmosphere or solar corona streaming into space. A composite of 11 exposures ranging from 1/2000 to 1/2 second, it records an extended range of brightness to follow details of the corona not quite visible to the eye during the total eclipse phase. Of course eclipses tend to come in pairs. On May 5, the next Full Moon will just miss the dark inner part of Earth's shadow in a penumbral lunar eclipse.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap230429.html

[ruibaozha]

I thank you for answering my previous question! (I'm so glad there are people on social media who work together to share knowledge like this!)

One of things I guess I did get confused with in my research is Nezha's origin story. It does help that you clarified about the many versions being different but they all are a part of telling the story. I overheard a rumor that there was an official book that told the "original" version of his story, but that is what my research is mainly trying to solve. I see a few titles saying they talk about Nezha's backstory, but none that claimed to be original. So I suppose I could be wrong in what I heard. Again, I thank you fir answering my questions! It's been fun learning new things about these topics!

Hello Hello!

I see, I understand what you’re trying to get here. To the best of my knowledge the earliest version of Nezha’s origin myth comes from The Grand Compendium of the Three Religion’s Deities. There is an edition from the Ming Dynasty (1368AD-1644AD) and an edition from the Qing Dynasty (1636AD–1911AD), but both editions cover roughly the same information and the distinction isn’t necessary here.

When he was five days old, Nezha went bathing in the Eastern Ocean. He trampled over the [dragon king's] Crystal Palace. He somersaulted straight to the top of the Precious Pagoda. Because he had trampled over his palace, the infuriated dragon king challenged him to fight. By then, Nezha was already seven days old, and he could overcome the nine dragons. The old dragon had no choice, except complaining to the [Jade] Emperor. The General [Nezha] knew of his intention. Intercepting him by Heaven's Gate, he killed the dragon. Mounting the Jade Emperor's altar, Nezha took the Buddha's bow and arrows. He shot an arrow, unintentionally killing Lady Rock's son. Lady Rock raised an army to fight him. The General [Nezha] took the Demon-Felling Club from his father's altar and, fighting his way Westwards, slew her. Considering that Lady Rock had been the demons' chief, Nezha's father was infuriated. He worried lest his son's killing her would provoke the demon hordes to war. Therefore, the General [Nezha] sliced off his flesh and bones, returning them to his father. Holding fast to his inner soul (zhen ling), he hastened to the Buddha's side, pleading that the World-Honored One make him complete once more. Considering that Nezha could subdue demons, the Buddha snapped a lotus flower. He fashioned it's stem into bones, it's roots into flesh, it's fiber into tendons, and it's leaves into clothes, giving life to Nezha once more.

I do hope this was helpful in your search. It’s entirely possible this story was imported from India during the Tang Dynasty (618AD-907AD) or Song Dynasty (960AD-1279AD) or even as early as the Wei Dynasty (386AD-535AD)

A majority of literature about Nezha was written during the Tang Dynasty (618AD-907AD) which was followed by one (of many) instances where China was no longer unified in a warring states period. It would be (705AD-960AD) where China was not unified and no further literature about Nezha was either written or survived.

Nezha had of course existed before the 7th century, but in terms of a timeframe Nezha and any written record of him was brought to China some centuries before Tang Sanzang went to India. Figure he formally entered China around 266AD-420AD while Sanzang left for India around 629AD.

It is wholly possible a story like this existed while Nezha was still Nalakubara, third son of the Heavenly King Vaisravana. I’ve yet to locate anything like that yet but this post will be amended to reflect if new information has been found.

[munsonology]

Rockstar!eddie and baywatch!reader pleeeaassee. Do whatever you want, just give us crazy insanely smuttyyy ❤️‍🔥😏🫠🍆💦🍑

Rockstar!eddie and baywatch!reader are in my top 3 of eddie's right now!!!!

i love giving readers names, it makes me feel more connected. i named baywatch!reader Darla!

Mitch assigned you to the quietest zone on the beach. since it was revealed you'd been dating corroded coffin frontman Eddie munson the beach had been taken over by fans and paparazzi. rescues for the team had been even more dangerous than it usually is. Photographers would put themselves in harms way to get a picture of Eddie Munson's lover, even better if she's saving a life. You'd beg to differ seeing most of the published pics on the tabloid stands were of your uniform stuck in your ass. How convenient they would publish you had hauled a 150 lb man from the ocean.

You understood why Mitch made the decision, but you couldn't help but feel you were being punished. You watched the waves roll in and out. the most action you'd had all day was helping free a turtle from a fish net.

"Is that my little starla Darla?" you hear from below the tower. you look down to see Eddie waving at you. he held up a picnic basket and a blanket. "can you have a little early dinner?"

"I don't know..." you sigh.

"Come on! you only have an hour left."

"if someone sees--"

"there's no one out here, baby."

you look down at him over your ray bans. he looked so good. his hair was loose around his shoulders, the buttons of his black shirt undone, letting his tattoos and the chains around his neck peak through. you always gave in too easily when he looked like this.

you waved for him to come up to the tower. if you were caught you'd hear from mitch later. Eddie approached you with a deep kiss. his hands squeezed your ass.

"what about dinner?" you asked as his lips moved down your neck. you felt his already hard cock against your stomach.

"don't worry about it, baby. I have a feast planned."

he backed you into the tower, closing the door behind him. the way his eyes darkened sent shivers down your spine and throb to your cunt. you felt your legs hit the cot and sat down. your legs seem to open on their own.

eddie dropped to his knees in front of you. his ring covered fingers lightly trailed from your ankle to your inner thighs. with a lick of his lips he moved the crotch of your swimsuit to the side.

"fuck," he mumbled. if he could live between your sweet thighs he'd move right in. he'd never leave. the only thing better than your clit between his teeth was sinking his cock in your cunt.

Eddie leaned forward and spit right on your pussy. you moaned as he rubbed the slick around.

"bon appetit," you tease.

eddie dives into your cunt. his tongue is hot and thick on your clit, curling and sucking you like a straw.

"fuck! eddie!" your hands run through his curls. you pull the hair at the crown of his scalp. he let's out a moan that vibrates around your pussy.

three of his fingers work you open, reaching your gspot in record time. the large skull ring pressed against your button.

"d'ya like that baby?" he groans.

"yes! please, i'm close." you plead. Eddie lifts his head from your cunt to your lips. he kisses you hard, the taste of your pussy smeared between you.

he chuckles hearing the squelch of your cunt. fuck, you were always so wet for him. he loved how easy it was for you to soak the sheets in his bedroom. "can i cum?" your voice breathy, on the cusp of ecstasy. the bullying of your gspot drives you wild.

with a cry of his name, you release, soaking the cot beneath you and eddie. "fuck, my little super soaker," he teases. trembling from your orgasm, eddie rubs your thighs and places a kiss on your clit.

"i love you, baby," he whispers.

"i love you too rockstar."

IM GONNNA EXPLODE!!!!!!!!!!!!🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

[ultimateoptimus]

Autobot Junior Rescue Divers Kicker and Sari

by UltimateOptimus

Recording: József Fénye (AKA ChromaRed), Hungarian/Autobot Junior Scuba Diver Location: Autobot/Hungary/Earth Federation/Sumdac Systems Junior Scuba/Rescue Diver Training Diving Pool (At Budapest, in Ocean City, at Robot City Detroit… take your pick) Date: June 201X (Think Dreamwave Transformers Energon comics) Friends: Chad "Kicker" Jones, Earth Federation/Autobot Junior Rescue Diver Sari Sumdac, Sumdac Systems/Autobot Junior Rescue Diver Entry: Junior Rescue Diver Training, Y2Ks Retro Style

József Fénye: Hello there, Personal Log: József Fénye recording another log entry!

Autobot Junior Divers Chad "Kicker" Jones of the Earth Federation, Sari Sumdac of Sumdac Systems and I, József Fénye of Hungary decided to go Y2Ks Retro Scuba Style with a TransformerTech twist - 2004 to 2008 - in today's wave-crashingly successful Junior Rescue Diver Training and Junior Rescue Diver Gear Testing at the Autobot Junior Scuba/Rescue Diver Training Diving Pool here in good ol' Budapest, Hungary!

I took The Perfect Shot of the Heroic Junior Scuballute Rescue Diver Boy's Underwater ParaRescue Ascent with Rescue SCUBAllute and Rescue SCUBACapsule fully inflated with breathable air, Daring Game style between 20.24 feet, 20.04 feet and 19.84 feet (the last of which is above 19.91 feet) in the training diving pool via Dive Digicam - all in high speed yet safe and controlled ascension to illustrate the Y2Ks scuba style twist on a fairy tale story theme of our Junior Rescue Diver Training and Gear Test in which our brave little team of Junior Scuba Divers played the roles of and suited and geared up in the following:

József F. (Callsign: Storyteller): Me, Myself and I, the Hungarian High School Scuba Boy calling the shots decked out in my classic All-Patriotic Red-White-and-Green Hungarian themed ensemble of my Boys' One-Piece Beachbody Racing Swimsuit, Silicone Swim Cap and Nabaiji X-Base Swim Goggles, Seiko Dive Watch, Tribord Mantiroa Mask, SNK 500 Snorkel and R'Gomoove Fins ABC Kit, Scubapro Finseal Buoyancy Compensator Dive Jacket with Air2 Inflator/Octopus, Replica Retro Watergill AT-PAC Hardshell Double Air Tanks with brand new TransformerTech Hardshell Aquajetpack Module built in for maximum Underwater Rocketman action and to catch up with the fast-paced aquadynamic aquabatics without getting bent too badly and "Soda Pop Can" Viking-Style Aqualung Mistral Double Hose Regulator with Buddy Tube Octopus and minimalist Air Gauge, for this JRD training dive swapped out with Replica Retro Watergill Failsafe TransformerTech Snorkelator combined with my SNK 500 snorkel I can switch between Regulator Mode and Snorkel Mode manually or automatically with and Replica Retro Watergill Failsafe TransformerTech Octopus Regulator.

Chad J. (Callsign: Knight-In-Shining-Armor): The Earth Federation's Masked Diver and Our Junior Rescue SCUBAllute Scubaboy Hero who dives to his Scubagirl in Simulated Out Of Air Peril's rescue at 60 feet, popping his regulator out of his mouth, connecting his lips with Sari's in True Love's Scuba Kiss (D'awww…) and plugging his reg into Sari's mouth to buddy breathe just in time like a true Space Age Prince before pulling the ripcords back to Home Sweet Home Base surface suited and geared up in his personalized red-white-and-blue TransformerTech integrated Kicker Kustom version of Earth Federation Scuba Gear: his Kicker Kustom Boys' Racing School Boxer Swimshorts and Silicone Swim Cap, Kicker Kustom Earth Federation Dive Mask, Snorkel and Dive Fins ABC Kit, Kicker Kustom Earth Federation Scubapro Style Stabilizer Jacket Buoyancy Compensator with Air2 Inflator/Octopus, air tank and brand new Earth Federation/Sumdac Systems Junior Rescue SCUBAllute Pack (shown with the inflator ripcord pulled and SCUBAllute ring fully deployed and inflated with breathable air like a real Underwater Junior ParaSCUBATrooper that doubles as a inner tube) and Kicker Kustom Earth Federation Mouthpiece Regulator and Compact Air Gauge scuba rig.

Sari S. (Callsign: Princess): The Sumdac Systems Cyber-Scubagirl and the Scubagirl in Simulated Out Of Air Peril who chose to dive to the bottom of the Junior Scuba/Rescue Diver Training Diving Pool at 60 feet (The max depth for Junior Scuba Divers), twist her scuba rig's air tank closed to simulate the feeling of running out of air during a SCUBA dive as real as it gets - but not TOO real - and play the panicked scubagirl who run out of air with all the regulator mouthpiece panting and puffed up cheeks and swimsuit chest and mouthpiece muffled grunting and underwater struggling (Give Sari Sumdac a Trophy for Best Junior Scuba Diver Actress for her realistic out-of-air simulation!) for Kicker to come diving to her rescue, Junior Rescue Diver buddy breathing and Underwater ParaSCUBA style all suited and geared up in her colorful yellow-gold-black-and-Energon-Cyan personalized TransformerTech upgraded Sari Special version of Sumdac Systems Scuba Gear: her Sari Special Girls' Turtleneck Japanese-Style School Swimsuit and Silicone Swim Cap, Sari Special Sumdac Systems Dive Mask, Snorkel and Dive Fins ABC Kit, Sari Special Sumdac Systems Scubapro Venus Style Girls' Backwing Jacket Buoyancy Compensator with Air2 Inflator/Octopus, air tank and Sari Special Sumdac Systems R190 Style Mouthpiece Regulator and Compact Air Gauge scuba rig and brand new Earth Federation/Sumdac Systems Rescue Inflatable SCUBACapsule (shown with the whole SCUBACapsule fully deployed and inflated with breathable air after pulling the inflator ripcord and wrapping Sari up like a scuba cocoon snug as a scuba bug in an inflatable tug).

Quoth Kicker through his reg in his mouth before he and Sari let rip the cords: "Knight-In-Shining-Armor to Storyteller: Princess is safe and sound and we're going back to Home Sweet Home. Over."

József Fénye over and out for this log entry!

[lumi-klovstad-games]

Ailani, The Lost Primarch of the Second Legion and Mother of the Imperial Hospitallers

In the annals of Imperial History, there stand heroes greater than any other. These are the Primarchs, the Sons of the Emperor of Mankind, the patriarchs of the Twenty Legions of the Adeptus Astartes who united a frayed and divided galaxy in a long ago age when people still looked to the stars with hope... and the events of the Horus Heresy had not yet doomed the galaxy to darkness, suffering, and despair. But of these, only Eighteen are remembered: The Nine who Turned Traitor, and The Nine Who Remained, steadfast and loyal. Here then is a tale, a tale of the Second Primarch, lost to history and imperial records. It is the tale of Ailani, the Beloved Second, and the Emperor’s Daughter.

Ailani was not like her brothers from the beginning. Beyond the fact that she’d never felt right in her own skin as a child, she had always been a gentle soul.

Cast by warp storms far across the galaxy shortly after her creation, the child then known as “Amanaki” was deposited upon Takiko, an oceanic world dotted with long chains of verdant and mountainous tropical islands, whose vast sea teemed with life on a scale unimaginable. There, the boy was discovered by a young couple, newly married but unable to bear children of their own. Seeing the child from the heavens as a miracle, they adopted the strong lad, who immediately demonstrated a way with resolving disputes and mending broken things, but never seemed quite comfortable with himself. In time, the boy came to understand that “Amanaki” was not their real name, merely one they had been given by a barely remembered man, the memories lost in shadow and fog, and there was a deeper reason to his unease with his own reflection. Amanaki was encouraged by his parents to cast off the trappings of outward appearances, and embrace his true self — fixing what was broken and settling conflict out in the world was all well and good, but until the inner conflict was resolved and the sense of identity rectified, “Amanaki” would never rise to their full potential. After much soul-searching, reflection, and meditation, Amanaki vanished beneath the expert and caring hands of one of Takiko’s finest healers. Flesh was reshaped, bones restructured, and the boy who’d landed on that world years ago ceased to be, and it was the young woman named Ailani who rose like a phoenix from the metaphorical ashes.

There was awkwardness, at first, but Ailani’s metabolic and psychological gifts as a Primarch made the transition surprisingly natural, if not exactly “easy”, though she did not understand the reasons at the time. Finally herself, Ailani was inspired by the memory of the Healer who helped complete her, and became a healing woman of great repute — indeed, there was none finer on Takiko. Her reputation spread as the woman whose physical labor could heal the body, and her spiritual labor could mend the soul. In addition, her proficiency at conflict mediation only grew with her confidence, and she never lost her love of building and repairing things; it brought her nearly unrivaled joy to see her work bring life and happiness to those around her. In time, she came to be known as “The Saint of Takiko”, the legendary figure who brought peace to the world and united it without ever firing a shot. Unfortunately for Ailani and Takiko, this reputation helped attract the attention of the Emperor of Mankind.

When the Emperor came to Takiko looking for his Warp-Scattered Son, he had not found the man born to lead the Second Legion, but rather he found Ailani, a being worthy only of the Emperor's Scorn, born from Amanaki’s sullied and ruined flesh as the Primarch had embraced her true identity. Ailani did not answer to the name the Emperor called her by. She had not answered to that name since she was a child. When the Emperor cast blame for the "abomination of a Primarch" upon the kindly old man and woman who had been Ailani's parents and lashed out, Ailani met her "father" in battle. He was not prepared for her fury, and while he ultimately emerged victorious, his "daughter", though not a trained warrior like her kin who had been discovered thus far, still managed to have him on the back foot more frequently than he would ever admit. Indeed, the Emperor considered, the wayward Primarch of the Second Legion might actually be worth salvaging. Ailani begrudgingly agreed to return to Terra with the Emperor, but only if he left her family and people alone, a condition the Emperor demurringly agreed to.

Ailani was not a Primarch of a particularly military mind, especially at first, though she brought with her the warrior traditions of her people. First and foremost, she was a healer. With her hands, she mended wounds and repaired cities. With her voice, she mended whole peoples and ended conflicts. When she assumed command of the Second Legion, until then known as the Skybreakers, she was disappointed. There had been no effort to inculcate in them values of construction or nation building.  They were a purely destructive force, one who prided themselves on being able to shatter the fighting force of entire worlds with utmost speed and efficiency. Ailani had known war in her time. She understood well enough the value of combat. But, saddled as she was with a Legion who shared the exact opposite of her values, she resolved to teach her errant sons how to be the Builders of Worlds, a marching crusade that strove to create an Empire worth ruling. In time, the Second Legion took a new name, as the Skybreakers became the Imperial Hospitallers, and Ailani became their living standard: her billowing black and braided hair, ornate white and marigold armor with a golden Iwalani, a bird native to Takiko, in place of the Imperial Aquila, and piercing green eyes — stained completely through like emeralds from the omnipresent Ki'ihopna Algae that grew throughout the food on Takiko — causing her to stand out, even among her fellow Primarchs.

Ailani had inherited the Emperor's Optimism, his belief in a better tomorrow and a better mankind worthy of living in it. As her legion spread across the stars, the Hospitallers brought aid to the needy, healing to the sick and injured, and did their best to claim worlds with a mind to preserving or improving the standard of living before they left, but where her brother Lorgar Aurelian dallied as he attempted to spread his doctrine of the Imperial Divinity, Ailani moved quickly. In order to keep a consistent pace and accomplish all her objectives, Ailani divided her Legion into "Cohorts'' who would move in a staggered deployment. These cohorts were named in accordance with the seafaring and island-dwelling culture Ailani had come from: the Maka Ihe, the Vanguard Cohort, would take a world, and begin restructuring and rebuilding according to the rules of Imperial Compliance as well as Ailani’s own personal values. As the Vanguard Cohort transitioned to Worldbuilding, the troops would be able to rest, and were reclassified as "Pa’a", or "Stabilizers", and in turn, "Kūkulu ʻāina" — "Constructors" — as rehabilitation of the world entered its final stages. By the time a Vanguard Cohort had transitioned to Constructors, the Constructors of a previous world had emerged rested and ready for a new bout of combat, and would transition back to Vanguard status as they moved to a new world to continue the Great Crusade.

Ailani may not have been initially well received by her legion owing to her non-military bearing and her clashing values with the Skybreakers, but upon seeing her patience and care for every soul under her command, her Legion gradually became quite taken with her beauty, iron will, silken compassion, and her steadfast and unwavering loyalty to her legion and the worlds they had taken and rebuilt. It was said that she possessed the beauty of Fulgrim, Vulkan's compassion, the high-minded ideals of Sanguinius, Rogal Dorn’s command at construction, and Roboute Guilliman’s administrative prowess, even if she did not excel quite as much as her brothers in any of these individual qualities. Regardless of the degree of truth to this reputation, she made easy friends with several of her kin, most notably Horus, Sanguinius, Fulgrim, and Vulkan, and less easy but still strong friendships with Lorgar Aurelian, with whom Ailani deeply enjoyed discussing matters of philosophy, even if she found his religious zealotry more than a little grating, and Konrad Kurze and Angron, with the two tormented Primarchs able to take much comfort in her soothing presence and healing words. Perhaps then, Ailani was simply too good, too pure, for a growing and changing Imperium, as those qualities which made her among the best of the Primarchs increasingly brought her into ideological conflict with the Emperor.

Ailani had never held the best of opinions of her “father”, as for all his psychic charm and honeyed words that he carefully and deliberately loaded with the ideals she valued, she’d seen a glimpse of his true character when he’d first come to Takiko: an arrogant and egotistical megalomaniac, a man who was obsessed with being God but demanded his followers not call him that out of an enforced and self-serving modesty, and a man who made little effort to hide how much he despised her for “ruining his hard work” by embracing her true self and taking her own name. It was obvious to her that he only tolerated her “aberration” because she had too many useful talents and, as a Primarch, she would be too difficult to replace. While he had been true to his word and had not harmed her family or her people, he had left a garrison of the War Hounds, now known as the World Eaters, nearby to "protect” Takiko ever since he took her with him back to Terra. The implied threat had never been lost on the Primarch of the Second Legion, and deep down, her gentle heart boiled at the Emperor’s audacity, and this set the stage for her Legion’s disappearance.

While neither the fastest Legion nor the slowest, the Imperial Hospitallers had conquered hundreds of worlds, and built glittering gems of civilization as they passed. The Emperor should have been proud. Instead, he saw in Ailani’s planetary reconstructions and rehabilitations an act of defiance. Whether he saw rightly or not is both unremembered and unimportant, but it was certainly true that Ailani never truly believed in him or his cause, and resented him for holding her world hostage to ensure her continued compliance. Her protests, however, had fallen among deaf ears among the Primarchs, with the sole exception of the Eleventh — ironic as the two had seldom seen particularly eye to eye on much of anything. For all her Brothers’ best qualities, too few of them shared in her grievances, and those who did were either unable or unwilling to help her do anything about it. As her quiet resentment of the Emperor simmered, her growing unwillingness to see Takiko continued to be held hostage any longer sparked a notion in her that she knew could split the fledgling Imperium in two: Takiko would secede from the Imperium, and with the might and expertise of the Imperial Hospitallers, it just might manage it.

Outwardly, the Hospitallers continued with their role in the Great Crusade, but their pace began to slow as Ailani started recalling veteran soldiers off the lines and put much greater emphasis on letting younger, less experienced Marines carry the Legion’s role. This roughly coincided with the Eleventh Legion doing the same, with the two Legions gradually building up an elite fighting force of their most capable soldiers, ready for the order to be given. For Ailani, these veterans were chosen with preferential favor given to survivors from the Legion’s days as the Skybreakers — these old soldiers carried skills and experience she would need if her plan to save her homeworld from the Emperor’s callousness and ego was to succeed.

Some unknown period of time before the Horus Heresy, the moment came, and the order was given. The Saint of Takiko returned to her homeworld, and made a decision she could never undo: she ordered the Imperial Hospitallers to fire upon the World Eaters garrison. Veteran blitzkrieg warriors from the old Skybreakers legion formed a spearhead that cut through the World Eaters ranks with ease, using their skills and capitalizing on the confusion to force the World Eaters to retreat through the Warp. The time Ailani had won would only be a few weeks before the Imperium heard what she’d done. Perhaps it would be another few weeks before the inevitable retaliation arrived. Her time was short, and so was Takiko’s. She, and her people, needed to be elsewhere when the hammer dropped, not an easy task with the ships available. As she bade her people to take only what was necessary as she evacuated the planet, word arrived from the Eleventh Legion: they had failed in their course to affect the same strategem. A small delay had snowballed into a far greater failure, and the Eleventh had lost all that he’d cherished at the hands of the Space Wolves Legion. While Ailani’s heart wept for her Brother’s incredible loss, she was gladdened by his arrival with what remained of his Legion at Takiko.

With the newly arrived ships, she had all that she needed to save her people, and for his part, the Eleventh Primarch was glad to assist as it gave a silver lining to his own failure. Millions of civilians boarded Second Legion ships that were too on edge, and Eleventh Legion ships that were too empty. By the time the Imperial response came, with a furious Emperor sending the Night Lords and the World Eaters to make an example of the two rebellious Legions, Takiko was empty, and the Legions were long gone. In a petty rage, the Emperor had the World Eaters and Night Lords glass the world, before the Emperor himself used his psychic powers to cast Takiko’s twin moons at the planet’s surface, pulverizing it into mere rubble. The Emperor's rage was perhaps not entirely misunderstandable; after all, never before had a Primarch disobeyed him. Never before had a Primarch rebelled against his authority. Little did he know, though this was the first time, it would not be the last, and the worst was soon to come for him and his fledgling Imperium.

The Imperial Records would be wiped immediately after. The statues of the Two Rebellious Primarchs were removed from their plinths on Terra. The Emperor, in his rage, psychically wiped all knowledge of the Second and Eleventh Legions and their Primarchs. Even the other Primarchs were forced to forget, but there was no covering up the hole made by Ailani’s absence; without her to discourage Lorgar Aurelian’s zealotry, he became more vulnerable to Erebus’ manipulations and the psychological predations of the Ruinous Powers. Without her soothing presence and calming words, Angron and Kurze began to grow less stable. Without the Saint of Takiko, the Imperium may have lost its last, best chance at avoiding the Horus Heresy only a few centuries later.

As for Ailani and her legion, their status is completely unknown. Few can even infer that a Second Legion once existed, and fewer still know anything of it beyond that, so complete was the Emperor’s purge of the records and the Imperium’s post-heresy suppression of reason and critical thought. But, even in the grim and the dark of the 42nd millennium, from worlds where all hope seemed lost in the face of certain doom, reports occasionally arrive at the Inquisition... reports detailing the arrival of unidentified Space Marines clad in archaic white and marigold armor, and bearing an unusual standard and livery not documented anywhere. These marines vanish as quickly as they arrive, saving the people and then departing on courses unknown.

Perhaps, just perhaps, Lady Ailani is not quite finished with her Crusade just yet.