#Little Crater Lake

[bettergeology]

Ticked an item off the “visit” list a couple weeks ago: Little Crater Lake, in the Mount Hood National Forest.

It’s sort of an oddity- a near-circular straight-sloped clear blue lake in the middle of a large wetland. It seems to sit right on top of a bedrock fault, which is likely active, part of a series of extensional faults called the Oak Grove Graben (which was completely unknown until about 2020!). The thinking is that this fault allows copious amounts of groundwater to rapidly rise with enough force that it washed out this crater-shaped lake. Its similarities with real Crater Lake end there, as that lake is an enormous volcanic caldera. Nevertheless, it shares the same vertigo-inducing clarity which allows the natural deep blue of very cold water to be so striking.

We found a healthy rough-skinned newt population in the lake. I guess the cold doesn’t bother them that much! Lots of flowers were in bloom, including this lovely Western Bunchberry.

[pcttrailsidereader]

Frog Lake to Barlow Pass on the PCT

As hikers walk north from Warm Spring Reservation heading toward Mt. Hood, they pass Timothy Lake and Little Crater Lake before crossing Warm Springs Highway and reaching Frog Lake, with its popular campground and day use area. One of the smoothest sections of the PCT trail in Oregon is between Frog Lake and Barlow Pass trailheads.  The trail is fairly wide and almost always in great condition, making it a fast run.  The Frog Lake to Barlow Pass distance is just 5 miles.

Old wooden trail sign at Twin Lakes – PCT trail junction.

Not far north of Frog Lake, the PCT passes Twin Lakes, lakes fed from nearby springs providing crystal clear waters that in the right light provide reflections from Mt. Hood to the north.

Mt. Hood from Upper Twin Lake.

Mt. Hood and Balsamroot at Palmateer Point

Barlow Pass and the famous Barlow Wagon Road, another emigrant route built in 1846, passes not far to the south of Mt. Hood. Its construction allowed covered wagons to cross the Cascade Range and reach the Willamette Valley, which had previously been nearly impossible. Even so, it was by far the most harrowing 100 miles of the nearly 2,000-mile Oregon Trail.

The Pacific Crest Trailside Reader: Oregon and Washington includes a story about the Barlow Road. There are many parallels between the Naches Pass Road mentioned in the previous post and the Barlow Road.

Dinner at Little Crater Lake Campground, 1991

"It was a wonderful swim at Timothy Lake and enjoyable evening at Little Crater Lake which is a 45-foot deep artesian spring . . . absolutely crystal clear and 40 degrees. We are camping in a 'self service' campground with a few people camped here also. It seems a little strange to have cars driving around and other people camped nearby, but it is made up for by having a PICNIC TABLE to sit at, and water from a pump to drink." July 29, 1991 (Jim Peacock)

The next day we walked 16 miles stopping for lunch at Frog Lake, continuing the "unremarkable". I walked in tennis shoes to give a 'hot spot' on my little toe some relief. We continued pass Barlow Pass another three miles positioned for our exit the next morning at Timberline Lodge.

[elements-photos]

[simplestoryteller]

I think it’d be hilarious if a brawl between them got interrupted by Darkseid or something and either one of them accidentally hits the interrupter knocking them out (possibly out of time or space or just consciousnesses) or getting annoyed and teaming up to defeat the interrupter before immediately falling back into a brawl

Clockwork has been waiting for danny for eons upon eons not to bring balance to the realms not to end the reign of pariah dark no

He has wait eons for danny to go through the complex steps of his life and death so he can rise to the rank and title of ancient of space for one reason and one reason only

Danny as ancient of space is the only person who can take a punch from the ancient of time without absolutely destroying them

And Clockwork just wants to have a fight like other ghosts but nook he has to be all mysterious instead cus he's the ancient of time he'd much rather just sock someone in the jaw but he can't for risk of sending them all through time

Clockwork just wants to all out brawl but these heroes keep making sure its not for villainous reasons, he just wants to brawl without hurting his buddies >:(

[mutant-distraction]

Little Crater Lake , Oregon

[wowthatsextra]

Early seasons smallville makes me so emotional 😭 love how it was established that the status quo was shaken when Lana and Lex became best friends with Clark, Pete and Chloe. In the pilot they were so worried that they'd end up as losers in high school, not knowing that soon enough they were gonna be hanging out with Little Miss Popular and the Weird Billionaire at the local cafe and the crater lake 🤍

I love everything about this. The fact that they went through the trouble to print out actual yearbooks for the show. Lana's little scribbled note ❤️ Clark's "the two LL's" (he is aware of his L.L. phenomenon guys). A billionaire mentioned in two yearbook quotes - I bet the regular kids at smallville high were sick of them lol. Lana making sure to advertise her business for free in the yearbook 😂

(Ignore the vandalism on Lana's picture - they're Alicia's handiwork)

[mysticstronomy]

DID MARS EVER CONTAIN WATER??

Blog#428

Saturday, August 17th, 2024.

Welcome back,

While the icy moons of Jupiter and Saturn contain water, Mars remains dry. Despite dozens of space missions, the Red Planet has yet to provide convincing proof that it conceals significant water reserves beneath its surface.

Yet Earth's little cousin hasn't always been so secretive. Various studies have shown that a little over 4 billion years ago, it experienced a "watery" era when lakes, rivers and perhaps even oceans could maintain themselves on its soil. Branching valleys and ancient terrains rich in hydrated clays are evidence of this blissful period of abundance.

Subsequently, the loss of part of the Martian atmosphere led to a reduction in the greenhouse effect followed by a gradual disappearance of water. The question is how long this process lasted and under what conditions. This is what the American Space Agency's (NASA) Curiosity and Perseverance spacecraft have been trying to establish since their arrival in 2012 and 2021 in the Gale and Jezero craters.

"Lakes occupied these depressions 3.5 or 3.6 billion years ago," explained Nicolas Mangold, a director of research at the French National Center for Scientific Research (CNRS) Laboratory of Planetology and Geosciences in Nantes.

By studying the sedimentary and clay deposits left by the former and exploring the ancient river delta that fed the latter, the aim is to determine whether the climate at the time was wet and cold, or dry and hot. The Perseverance rover is also collecting samples, to be brought back to Earth as part of the MSR mission [Mars Sample Return, NASA-European Space Agency (ESA)]. They should provide precise information."

For the moment, things are hazy. If water has flowed on Mars, where has it gone? Was it sucked up into space with the Martian atmosphere or did some of it remain on site, buried underground? Many teams around the world are working to find answers by searching for clues to its presence other than those offered by polar ice caps and glaciers.

As water cannot remain in a liquid state for long on the surface of Mars, these investigations often consist of spotting recent traces of its passage using instruments placed in orbit. This opens the way to all kinds of controversy about how to interpret observations of this world, whose morphology is radically different from that of Earth. "Some of these controversies, such as those concerning gullies – ravines 1 or 2 kilometers long, discovered by the hundreds along certain landforms in the early 2000s – have finally been settled," said Susan Conway, a CNRS researcher at the Laboratory of Planetology and Geosciences in Nantes.

Her team recently demonstrated in the journal Nature Communications that seasonal deposits of dry ice explain the phenomenon, and not water flows.

Other clues continue to fuel debate and even controversy among scientists. The nature of "equatorial dark flows," the background noise of radar signals suggesting the existence of an underground sea beneath the North Cap, the presence of possible channels in the ejecta of impact craters and the hypothetical formation of "rides" in areas of glacial retreat. If water exists on Mars, it is well camouflaged.

Why not deep underground, frozen in the cryosphere? Or preserved in liquid form in aquifers, or inside the thin film of perchlorate brine that supposedly exists at the base of the permafrost that covers Mars at high latitudes? The Marsis and Sharad radars of the Mars Express (ESA) and MRO (NASA) probes have pinpointed promising regions. And when NASA's Phoenix lander dug a few centimeters into the frozen ground just after it arrived in 2008, it immediately uncovered blocks of water ice – a further reason for hypothesis and speculation.

Originally published on https://www.lemonde.fr

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, August 21st, 2024)

"DID LIFE EXIST ON VENUS??"

[duchess-of-new-shire]

No yeah like personally I'm not a sylki shipper but I would also bang an alternate version of myself and/or tom hiddleston so I can't really critique it

Genuinely confused about why people are so upset about 'selfcest'. It is an entirely fictional concept with no real life precedent. There is absolutely nothing to get mad about. Sylki is not hurting anyone. If you find it weird, that's fine. It's a weird concept. But I have yet to hear one good argument about why it's morally wrong by any definition. Seriously, someone explain. I am open to discussion, just not unfounded hate. And before you say anything about queerbaiting, that is an entirely separate issue that also just happens to be a part of that particular ship. You do not need to tell me that it's queerbaiting; I already know and that's not what I'm arguing.

That being said, my long shot hope for s2 is that Lokius and Sylki become canon. It would either singlehandedly unite the fandom or singlehandedly burn it to the ground and either way I want to watch. It almost certainly will not happen but my God would it be funny.

[afterartist]

HELICALTALE MAIN CAST LINEUP!!

(Not ll of the characters but the most important ones to the plot)

‘And now: AU Infodump

BUT BEFORE ANYTHING!!

I will be answering any questions (within reason) any of you have about the au, even if it’s about some random side character only three people have ever heard of before

I live world building and any chance to expand on this world are treasured

I’ll probably answer with fun little doodles as well lol

So ask away :D!!

Basic AU overview:

Helicaltale is NOT a classic based Timeline.

The AU is set in a world where Mt Ebott was destroyed during the war, leaving a desert crater in its place, no protection for the Monsters to retreat and nowhere to seal them underground. In response, the Human mages put a spell on Monster kind, ‘Helios’ Curse’, forcing them to be unable to touch sunlight or else they’d burn (think Vampires or Minecraft Mobs)

The main story takes place 87 years after the war ended and 29 years after friendly communications between the two races begun, with the Monsters settled in a camp like city, made of tents and canvas buildings, around the oasis that formed in the desert that was now known as Ebott crater. Humans and Monsters have achieved peace between the races, regular trading routes and communications set up between the two cities.

Now all that was left was for both Humans and Monsters to find a way to break Helios’ Curse for good.

(None of them can touch Sunlight (minus the humans) but the ones more lightly dressed (Gaster, Alphys, Asgore) all live in the city, with proper buildings not at risk of being blown over at any second so can afford to not be covered up 100% of the time)

Locations:

Ebott City-

The capital city of the country, Ebott is a massive human settlement, overshadowing old ruins left by the war. It’s currently the main base of conferences between human and monster relations.

The Oasis-

The Monster settlement, made from tents and interconnecting canvas sheets, from above it looks like a colourful cluster of a campground, large sheets stretched over the streets. From within it’s only lit by lamps and magic, the sky completely blocked out by tarps and canvas to avoid accidentally getting burned by sunlight, to those not familiar with the city it’s a labyrinth, others, its home.

(A major inspiration for the Oasis is the Kowloon walled city, for those interested in a more accurate visual of the Oasis)

The Great Fence-

While the name conveys grandeur, the fence is a simple chain link fence acting as the border around the entire Oasis, topped with barbed wire and adorned with tarps, it’s designed to protect the residents against wild animals like Coyotes and be a barrier against sandstorms more than it is to keep people out, one of the most regular jobs for the Royal guard other than being general peace keepers is to uphold the fence, often sending patrols out after heavy storms to keep everything in order.

Central Oasis-

A mix between Newhome and Waterfall, it’s the main hub of the town, the Royal family living there along with the majority of schools and recreational areas, most Water based monsters (ie: Shyren, Aaron ect ect) also live in this area, a large lake of water being the centerpiece of the city.

Lights district-

To the west side of the city is the main shopping hub, while much more open than the majority of the Oasis, many stores foregoing walls on their tents entirely, its full of stores and restaurants, the most well known being Grillby’s and Muffets joint restaurant, many visitors to the Oasis come for the night life of the lights district, the monsters that live in that area making the camp around them as flashy and attractive as possible, neon lights and dancing flames lighting up the darkness of the district, the Celebrities Mettaton and Nabstablook have also been alluded to frequent the region and perform for onlookers.

Sandbank-

The Snowden equivalent of the AU, having gotten its name due to its position at the east side of the city, being the least protected by the walls of the crater, Sandbank often gets the brunt of the sandstorms that hit the desert, leading many of the Royal Guards live in this area in case of an emergency during the storms.

Southside (the Black Market)-

Technically not its official name, the Southside of the Oasis is whispered about in the dark of night, rumours telling of an illegal market place and shady monsters working in the south, many a monster wandering in and never coming out. While most likely just old wives tales, its best you keep your distance, just in case.

(Yeah I made the Black Market an actual real marketplace because that will never not be funny to me)

Hotlands-

The north most section of the Oasis is best known as Hotlands, given the name as it’s the highest section of city but also the most shielded by the crater walls, leaving it boiling without any wind to seep out the heat’. There’s been speculation that Hotlands actually sits over an underground chamber of magma, adding to the blistering temperature.

Characters:

The Dreemurrs:

Frisk- (Any Pronouns)

Frisk is an 11 year old kid, a runaway from one of Ebott City’s Orphanages, known for its less than legal treatment of the children. Having joined Chara as the eldest helped them both escape, Frisk followed Chara into the desert, looking for shelter from CPS.

During the trek however Frisk falls sick with an illness, most common in Monsters but able to infect anyone with strong magic, called Icarus syndrome.

With Icarus syndrome being effectively Hyperthermia of the soul, any physical treatment is ineffective, needing a particular medication to have any hope of survival, leaving the crater as not just refuge but possibly their only chance of survival.

Chara- (They/Them)

Chara is 16 and the orchestrator of the escape from the Orphanage with Frisk, after having been in contact online with a kid from the Monster camp that offered assistance. During the escape Frisk fell ill, forcing Chara to locate and purchase the rare medicine. Ending up in the Monster equivalent of the black market, Chara found a monster begrudgingly willing to help, trading a magical glass eye, a prosthetic their grandfather made for both humans and monsters during the war, for a small vial of medicine. The trader warning them to keep out of the black market before dropping the two kids off safely at the center of the Oasis.

Asriel- (He/Him)

Asriel is the firstborn son of the Dreemurrs and heir to the Royal throne, at 16 he made contact and became friends with a kid online, the other telling him of the danger they and their sibling were in at the Orphanage. Quickly offering up his home, knowing both his parents had fostered and cared for many children in the past and wouldn’t turn away two more. Upon meeting them in the Oasis he makes fast friends with both Frisk and Chara, practically adopting them as siblings on the spot.

Toriel- (She/Her)

Queen of the Oasis at 143 years old, Toriel has seen her fair share of bloodshed and peacetime, giving her the knowledge to recognise that protecting young children is the best way to ensure their future, guiding them to Mercy and pragmatic solutions instead of Fighting. One of the first things she did after Monsters had finally settled into the Oasis being starting up a school, becoming the primary teacher for a good few years before other parents eventually began to join her staff. Though, with the two new children her son had brought to her doorstep, she’s begun to realise it’s not just the children of Monster kind that need protection.

Asgore- (He/Him)

King of the Oasis and 146 years old, Asgore grew up at the front lines of the war, the heinous acts shaping him into the pacifist he is today. Currently away from the Oasis, Asgore has turned his sights on communications with the Humans, staying at the city while conferences with the city leaders on trade routes and transportation commence. He is also overseeing the Monster half of the Science team, working closely with the Royal Advisor and Scientists Gaster in developing a cure to Helios’ Curse. He remains in frequent contact with the Oasis, making the trip back every weekend to see his now growing family and make sure Toriel isn’t overwhelmed with responsibilities.

-

The Fonts:

Dr. Gaster- (He/Him)

At 140, Gaster has spent his life developing weapons for war (the Gaster Blaster being his pride and joy) and perseverance for Monster Kind, having a massive distaste for all Humans and most Monsters. The sudden change from war efforts to restoration efforts throwing his life in disarray. Jumping at the chance to use Human equipment on government funded experiments, Gaster didn’t hesitate to leave his sons Sans and Papyrus (9 and 4 at the time) back at the Oasis to move to the city and begin work. He’s had a hand in creating many inventions helping Monster kind (both helping with the medicine for Icarus Syndrome and a magic Sunscreen that can briefly minimise the effects of the sun) and the head of the Selene Project, the project to break the curse.

Sans- (He/Him)

28 and thriving, Sans has made a name for himself as both the comedic slacker of the Royal guard and the savvy businessman as one of the Black Markets best traders. Having been forced to raise both himself and Papyrus from a young age, Sans became intwined with the black market at the age of 12, after Papyrus caught Icarus Syndrome and receiving no help from Gaster off in the city, Sans was forced to find his own way of getting medication. At the age of 12 he found his way into the black market, ending up trading his right eye, and subsequently some of his shortcut abilities with an underground doctor in exchange for the medicine, to this day he hasn’t told anyone what happened to his eye. From then on he found himself going back and getting into trading as a way of making money as a side job while both he and Papyrus worked to get into the Royal guard, quickly becoming infamous in the criminal world of the Oasis, though he had a rule that no kids were to ever be found trading in the market. A rule that quickly got broken when a young human kid stumbled into his shop, begging for help, offering a magic glass eye as payment. Unable to send the kid off without help (or turn down the irony of selling the meds for an eye) he made the trade before guiding the kid and their sibling to the Oasis center.

-

(Bonus:)

After dropping the kids off, Sans makes an attempt to use the prosthetic eye, yet upon fitting it into his socket, the magic activated and bonded with his soul, causing the eye to become fused with his being, immovable. Along with the eye he’s suddenly able to see things he, by all means, should NOT be able to see, including text bubbles from the creators (similar to error sans)

He also finds, magically in his pocket, a small golden key, only figuring out its use after stumbling across a door in the middle of nowhere, upon using the key on the door he finds himself in an entirely different AU, door closing and disappearing behind him.

This is what leads him to discover the Multiverse and travel between AUs (inconveniently ending up in Nightmares Castle more times than he’d care to count)

-

Papyrus- (He/Him)

The Great Papyrus, second in command of the Royal guard at the younge age of 23 (you may applaud now)

Having grown up with just himself and Sans, Papyrus always wanted to become something great to make his brother proud, despite Sans’ insistence that he’s already proud of him. When he was 13, while Sans was out getting food, Papyrus had been targeted and hunted down by a group of bullies from the Southside of town, the group of teens taking turns in beating him up, eventually escalating to the point where one of them pulled a mirror from their pocket and used it to reflect a beam of sun directly onto his face, leaving a permanent scar,

He was saved however, when a teen he recognised from the Oasis center came charging out from one of the nearby tents, picking up handfuls of sand and hurtling it at the other kids before beating them up with her fists alone. Once over, the girl had turned, helped Papyrus up and took him to see her grandfather, the current head of the Royal Guard, a job she loudly proclaimed she was going to have one day,

Ever since then he attempted and eventually got into the Royal guard, along with Sans and the teen, Undyne.

-

Gersons:

Undyne- (She/Her)

29, Captain of the Royal Guard, Wife of the best woman around, living the high life! Having been raised by her grandfather Gerson for longer than she could remember, she’s always looked up to the Royal Guard, no matter how her Grandfather told her it wasn’t all glory. She’d been sneaking out and training with one of the Royal Guards for 8 years by the time she was 19, stumbling across a fight, six of her classmates beating down on a young skeleton. She’d jumped to defense before she’d even registered it, helping the kid up and getting him patched up where eventually the kids brother, Sans, one of Alphys’ friends found them and thanked her profusely.

The three became fast friends, practically siblings, both of them there at her and Alphys’ wedding and her promotion to Captain of the Royal guard.

Alphys- (She/They)

27 and already one of the best Scientists in the whole country. Alphys’ having grown up in Hotlands would have never dared to dream she’d be working with a whole team of like minded scientists, especially not in the human city, though not being able to see her Wife as often was a dampener. Dr. Gaster was also a bit, overzealous, with the project, it was only a matter of time before the madman created some temporal superflux that blew up half the block, even if she wouldn’t be anywhere near as prestigious without his guidance, despite Sans’ reservations for letting them near him.

(I will be adding more to this AU btw, it’s in my top 3 faves lmao)

Bonus:

Animation I’ve done for Helical Sans to explain how his AU hopping works

[bat-snake]

Feeling ways about. How far the Sea of the Castout extends and just an extra special layer of tragedy in Leola's death.

The rivers reach the Silvergrove, almost touching the Moonstone Path. They connect to the oasis in the Midnight Desert. They even connect up to the Storm Spire to some unlabeled sea(???). The connect to lakes that go into the Uncharted Forest and the Drakewood and Umber Tor.

Before the crater, there was a forest and a vast lack of a water source in that area. Leola's fall and Aaravos' century of grieving brought water to an area of Xadia where there was none before. So much that it spread through the land with unimaginable impact - life flourishing!

And of course, the cosmic/navigational impact with her star - bright and clear and steadfast and beautiful. If not navigation, then an inspiration for art, for poetry, for song, for declaring love. Or even just remembering: Woah! Astronomy!

Aaravos was right that she would be surrounded by love. Maybe not in the way he meant to comfort her. By accident, with her death, an avenue for all other life cracked open, and where life is, love follows.

Yet all the appreciation for the water and agriculture that came from it...no one actually knows (or cares?) who the Castout was. Surely some interesting little folk stories about the giant that wept in a crater for a while and a variety of guesses to how that happened.

They don't know she was someone's sweet little girl - someone's baby. They don't know she was murdered for showing compassion to a "lesser being". They don't know she died frightened and confused and seeking comfort from a parent floating out of her reach. Her "last wish" was unspoken and yet she had a star named after it.

For all of that, for all the love springing from and for Leola's impact on Xadia, only one remembers her and loves her for who she was in life. Yes, he may be perfectly aware of everything I just said. Maybe he's heard it before. Maybe he's considered it for himself. That her death created an outpouring of life and opportunity.

But it's bitter comfort. They don't love her like he still loves her.

[torchflies]

Hi TG Fandom! 

Lol, I’m trying to get a lab up and running with nothing but elbow grease and grit — but I was inspired to ramble a little after I saw one of my TAs watching Brightburn on their phone (terrible movie but great concept). This is really silly BUT —

I love the idea of an Icemav kid, who doesn't love the idea of an Icemav kid? Bradley is definitely Icemav’s kid, but he’ll always be Carole and Goose’s too. 

I imagine that Mav starts test piloting when Bradley gets into his preteen/early teen years, while Ice is rising in the ranks. One night they decide to sleep over in the hangar in China Lake. There was supposed to be a meteor shower or something and Mav was desperate to get his kid excited and engaged in something after Carole’s passing. So the two of them are using the telescope into the wee hours of the night to see it and the light-pollution-free constellations. Finally, they go to bed. 

But Bradley frantically wakes Mav up two hours later to say: Mav, I think a meteor just landed outside. 

Mav, of course, doesn't believe him because what? 

But they eventually go out there and “just behind the hangar” turns into a three-mile jog. Still, it’s been a while since Bradley has been invested in anything like this, so they go, and lo’ and behold — there’s a crater and in the crater… is a toddler, chewing on a piece of compromised metal. The whole crater is covered in chunks of compromised metal, like something exploded. But the tiny boy is unharmed, just happily gnawing away on his piece of paneling. 

Mav is at a loss, and when Bradley gives him the can we keep it? lips and eyes, Mav says absolutely not. 

The next morning, Ice rushes over after Mav’s frantic SOS call and says absolutely not. 

But when there's no record of the boy anywhere and his only option is a foster placement… 

Well, there's plenty of room for another kid in this family, after all. 

And okay, sure the kid floats and periodically sets things on fire with his eyes 🤷 but no one is perfect. 

Move over Ma and Pa Kent, they've got nothing on Ice and Mav raising a preteen and an alien baby. 🤣

Look, I'm overcaffinated and sleep-deprived, let me have this.

[rorywritesjunk]

Let’s be one another’s present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: Swearing, brief mentions of expecting assault, Rory doesn't know anything about makeup and here is more makeup. A kiss. A/N: This story is opposite of my Kid Buggy series and I love that for myself.

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 (NC-17) + Chapter 16 (NC-17) + Chapter 17 TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel @ane5e

Chapter 5

Despite your argument, fight, whatever it was after breakfast, Buggy kept an eye on you as you practiced holding your breath under water with one hand at the top of the tank to fish you out if needed. With his hand near you, he made a point of going to various points of the tent, trying to see if he could see your face while you were underwater to validate his reasoning for putting makeup on you.

You really didn't want to but as he said at breakfast, he was in charge. 

And after everyone was done for the evening and the two of you headed back to your shared room, he waited until you changed into dry clothes before sitting you in front of his vanity and pulling out different kinds of makeup. You had a grumpy expression on your face as he looked at various kinds and colors, trying to find something that was colorful and bright while also being waterproof. 

“Turn that frown upside down, Cupcake.” He chuckled as he held up a pink eyeliner pencil and knelt in front of you. “I'm going to take care of you, don't worry. The audience will be able to see this gorgeous face of yours all the way in the back row.”

And there it was again, those words he said so freely to you and others, but you had come to hope he actually meant them when he said them to you.

He held your chin to keep your head still as he murmured for you to close your eyes as he held the pencil up. You just stared back at him, looking into his eyes and feeling lost for a moment before he repeated himself and you listened, shutting them tightly as though this was going to be painful.

“Relax, Cupcake.” He said softly as he moved the eyeliner across your eyelids gently, keeping his hand steady so as to keep the line straight and to not poke you. “I got you.”

You swallowed heavily and nodded, though your movements were restricted by him holding you. He was so close to you right then, you could feel his breath on your face and the warmth of his body as he moved the pencil over your other eye. He chuckled softly and let go of your chin so you opened your eyes.

“Looking good already.” He told you as he looked for the next piece. “This eyeliner says it's waterproof so we will have to try it out later, maybe when you take a bath or something.”

You just nodded, watching as he checked the labels on various mascaras and other things that he had. It made you wonder if he used all of this stuff himself or if he just accumulated it all over time.

“I know your schtick is to wear that old Marine uniform, but I wouldn't say no to seeing you in that mermaid tail.” He told you as he looked back over at you. “You don't have to wear that clamshell top if you don't want to, either be topless or wear something else.”

“It may be hard to get in and out of the tank with the fins.” You pointed out as he took hold of your chin again. You jumped a little at his touch and he immediately pulled his hand back. “Sorry, uh, you can keep doing that.”

He looked into your eyes for a moment, looking for any signs of discomfort before he took your chin in his hand again before he started with the mascara. In reality, if he gave you the makeup he wanted to use you could have applied it yourself, but he never gave you the chance. He just took charge of the situation, much like your haircut, and… you kind of liked it.

Of course you weren't going to say anything. 

“Someone can lift you out.” He said as he set the mascara aside. “We'll figure something out to add some flashiness to your act “

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. “Can I ask you something, Captain?”

“What?” He was looking through different eye shadow palettes, looking for any of them that indicated they could be waterproof. “I'm an open book so ask away.”

“Why are you so against me doing anything risky?” You asked. “And don't give me the shit about the other performers, that's not a valid reason.”

He didn't respond right away, still rummaging through the drawer to find what he needed. You took a chance and leaned forward, touching his arm lightly. He shrugged and looked at you.

“Maybe I don't want you to get hurt.” He said, his voice surprisingly calm as he spoke. “Ever think of that? If something happens to you while you're in the water, I can't help you, so don't suggest shit like that anymore.”

“You always have someone watching me though.” You frowned. “You can stage someone to be ready to help me if something is going wrong.”

“Can I ask you something then?” He asked sharply, his tone surprising you just a bit. You nodded. “Why are you so ready to put yourself in harm's way?”

“I'm… I'm not.” You said as you pulled your hand back.

“You were ready to drown yourself shortly after meeting me.” He pointed out. “And now you're suggesting adding an extra layer of danger to this act. Either you have a death wish or a dark sense of humor, both of which I don't like coming from you.”

You shrugged and looked down at your lap. “‘s how I'm coping.”

“Coping with what?” He sighed as he found a bright green eyeshadow that may be waterproof. 

“Being here.” You mumbled. “And processing everything, like going from feeling like I was going to be killed by you when I first met you to you having a cup of tea for me. You even let me sleep in your bed last night and… you didn't do anything.”

“What were you expecting me to do?” Buggy asked as he grabbed a brush for the eyeshadow. “Hm?”

You didn't look at him and shrugged. “Take advantage of me.”

“Glad to know you think so highly of me.” He muttered as he grabbed you by the chin again, still as gentle as before, as he held the brush tinged with the green powder. “I'd hope you trust me enough to close your eyes for me.”

“I trust you.” You said a little quickly before closing your eyes. “It… it's just taking time.”

“Hm, well, I have plenty of time.” Buggy said as he smoothed the brush over your eyelids carefully. He muttered something about the powder getting everywhere and before you knew it, his thumb was moving around your eye, removing the excess. You found yourself leaning into his touch for a moment, only to open your eyes when he pulled his hand back. “You good, Cupcake?”

You didn't realize how much you had leaned into him because your hand was on his chest and your face was inches from him.

“I…am good.” You pulled back from him, leaning as far into your seat as possible. “Sorry. Distracted.”

Buggy said nothing as he set the mascara down and looked for lipstick next. Your heart was pounding and you were feeling embarrassed. You needed to get a grip because you just spoke of him not taking advantage of you, but what were you doing just now? Leaning into his touch, getting close to him, he was going to think you were up to something and then what? You'd end up tossed out on your ass. He didn't want you in that way, he was your boss. He kidnapped-slash-rescued you from a shitty situation and you felt like you were throwing yourself at him.

“Better a distraction now than when you're in the water.” He muttered as he picked up a bright yellow lipstick. “Let's try this.”

You let him take charge once more, holding you by the chin as he dabbed the yellow color over your lips. You didn't get to smooth it over your lips because Buggy's thumb was there, dragging the color over your lips to even it out. Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to the pad of his thumb, only to feel horrified that you just did that. Either he didn't notice or he did and chose not to say anything, because he pulled his hand back when he was done.

“One more thing, Cupcake, then you're done.” 

You looked up at him, wondering what else he wanted to do to you. He looked at you for a moment before one hand grabbed the front of your shirt and the other hand went to the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You stiffened, not expecting that, but you soon relaxed as your hands went to his head, cupping his face as you returned the kiss. 

This was not what you expected to happen.

He pulled back just a bit, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he looked over your makeup. There was red around your mouth, accenting the yellow, and he smirked at the additional color.

“I think this will work for you, y’know.” He chuckled as he pulled his hands away. “I like the red on you.”

~

You barely slept. Buggy mentioned the possibility of another storm and you were in his bed again for the night. He wasn't lying and while it wasn't as loud and violent as the previous night, you appreciated that you were able to burrow under the blankets on his bed as the wind howled and the rain pounded outside. He was in bed beside you, sleeping on his side facing you, seemingly not bothered by the noise outside like you were. 

It was just weird to be in his bed again. Are you friends now? What was this? He was still your boss but the fact he kissed you earlier had you starting to question some things. Was he just being a tease, or did he have some kind of feelings for you that you yourself were starting to question? Did you like him or, as you mentioned earlier, are you just coping with the change in your life? 

You two certainly argued and raised your voices enough at each other that it was weird if you didn't call him an asshole at least once a day or if he didn't end your practice by dunking your head under water. 

You pulled your head out from under the blankets just enough to look over at him. He definitely looked peaceful as he slept, and you liked the sight of his hair down and his face free of makeup. It was hard not to reach out and run your fingers through his hair, wanting to see if it was as soft as it felt, but that was a risk you didn't want to take.

“What?” He grumbled as he opened his eyes. “It's weird being stared at when I'm trying to sleep.”

“Oh, fuck, um… nothing. Sorry.” You replied quietly as you curled up away from him. “Couldn't sleep and…”

“Got distracted?” Buggy grinned sleepily. “By me? Am I too distracting for you?”

“N-No, shush.” You glared at him as your cheeks turned red, but thankfully it was too dark for him to notice. “Go back to sleep, asshole.”

“Hard to when your eyes are on me like that, y’know.” He chuckled. “Feels like you’re undressing me with your eyes, Cupcake. Kind of scandalous to look at your Captain that way.”

“Oh my God, shut up.” Your face was burning now. “I am going to smother you with a pillow, Buggy.”

He just smirked at you, almost daring you to even attempt it. Grumbling, you chose to hide your face against your pillow instead. No, no, you weren’t going to smother him while he slept. He was half asleep and being dumb, that was it, trying to rile you up to have you wanting to fight him before you fell asleep. 

“Just don’t try to kiss me when I go back to sleep.” He told you as he moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around as he pulled you against him. “I’d like to be awake for that.”

You wondered if you could just die right then and there from this entire conversation.

[homestuckreplay]

Skaia: *20d6 fire and 20d6 bludgeoning damage*

(page 756-758, again)

One day later, I can confidently say that WV: Ascend is the coolest thing Homestuck has done so far. There’s an impressive amount happening in just two and a half minutes of animation - it does a great job at advancing most of the storylines that have been woven throughout Act 2, and setting up some new mysteries for Act 3.

First and very excitingly, we get the coordinates of John’s neighborhood when WV’s bunker flies overhead. John lives at 47.362101, -122.054144 – a suburb in Maple Valley, Washington, about halfway between Seattle and Tacoma. It’s even near a lake, just like the one we see in zoomed out shots of John’s house. Real life pictures of this area look like a very generic suburb, one that could be copy-pasted from lots of parts of the US, so it’s perfect for his context. I really love the idea of John being so close to the ocean – a place associated with openness and freedom – yet so unable to access it.

John himself doesn't appear in the animation, only his home does. I think the same is true for GG. The coordinates of WV’s appearified pumpkin (coordinates p.733, pumpkin seen next to GG on p.665) are identical to those of the frog statue, where WV touches down. Every possible clue to GG only makes her more mysterious, and the idea that she could live in a place so connected to Skaia is no exception. If she has some access to Skaia’s potential, this could explain her knowledge of the future, especially in regards to Sburb. I’m guessing that this statue and GG both will play a big role in Act 3.

The Peregrine Mendicant, as they approach the ruins of John’s house and the apple shaped bunker close by, may also have a role. Since we know Sburb’s pre-punched card can contain a variety of items, and the apple and its tree were John’s, I’d guess that Rose’s item will be cylindrically shaped – as suggested by someone on discord, it could even be a can.

WV: Ascend really highlights the malleable and nonlinear role of time in Act 2, and takes us much further back into the past, and a little further into the future, than anything so far, radically expanding the scope of the story geographically and chronologically. I’m going to discuss time in Act 2 at length in an essay I’m currently planning, but for now I want to mention the meteor that collided with Earth in (apparently) prehistoric times. This happened before the Pacific Ocean was even an ocean, and the raptor flying overhead once it has become an ocean suggests that the meteor, Skaia’s power over Earth, and the frog statue built inside the crater, all far predate recognizable life on Earth. Page 545 shows us that Dad has been collecting newspaper clippings related to meteors for decades. This felt pretty huge at the time, but is made vastly insignificant by the idea that such meteors go back millions of years. Who’s to say it wasn’t the ‘creative potential’ of Skaia that created life on Earth itself????

I went through act 2 to find all the ‘psyche!’ moments, so here they are: PSYCHE cuts from Rose to Dave (p.308), OH SNAP cuts from Dave back to Rose (p.357), PSYCHE and OH WAIT – x2 DOUBLE PSYCHEOUT COMBO cuts from Dave to GG to WV (p.665) and finally, PSYCHE?? – UNPSYCHE. cuts from the fakeout end of act animation to the actual end of act animation.

Beyond just these moments, act 2 is very focused on transitions – fitting, as it begin with John’s transition from Earth to the Medium. Some others that get highlighted by the narrator or player are John to WV (p.270-271), Dave to John (p.466-467 and p.613-614) and John back to Dave (p.663-664). Cuts between John and Rose are never highlighted, perhaps due to the link between them as co-players making these feel more natural.

I’ve mentioned before that WV’s ‘Years in the future…’ pages have always been followed by Rose’s GameFAQ pages (p.248-249, 271-272, 439-440 and 509-510), creating a parallel between these two characters. Finding out that they are in the same physical space, four hundred and thirteen years apart in time, both vying for control over John Egbert, is such a cool payoff to this with a BIG implication. Does being a Sburb server player create a sort of ‘node of potential’ in that physical location through which it’s possible to control the corresponding client player? Does this mean John eventually becomes a server player? Does this happen so that Sburb guarantees that if something happens to a server player – for example, dying to a meteor while trying to enter the game themself – the client player can still be guided through the game? Are these bunkers really natural formations, as the animation implies, or are they formed through some kind of alchemy? A combination of both?

Both Rose’s mom and Dave’s bro appear in this flash, although their stories are still entirely tied to their charges, while John’s dad (Mr. Egbert? Clown Egbert? Can Clown be a honorific?) now has an arc of his own. All of the guardians seem to be in control of their own situations, but Dad is now far away, while Nannasprite has taken on the role of actively looking after John.

We already knew Dave’s bro was a scheming mastermind setting up saw traps for his brother, and Dave being colored in orange, pink and yellow as he stands on the rooftop reminds me of the red, pink and yellow of Rowlf in Bro’s ‘ironic’ comic (p.565) – but this is the first time we’ve seen Bro’s actual, non-silhouetted form. We’ve seen Rose’s mom before, but she’s now revealed as an equally high level mastermind, and it casts her actions in a whole new light. Mom did not erect Jaspers’ mausoleum in a ‘spirit of scornful IRONY’ – she was in fact concealing an escape hatch to which only she knew the passcode. How much she knew about the specific circumstances it might be used in is still up in the air, as well as why she waited for this exact moment, when Rose has already been in danger for hours, but I think there’s a lot more to her than being a (possible) neglectful alcoholic.

After this very beautiful animation, the curtains close on Act 2 (p.758) identical to those closing on Act 1 (p.247), and to those opening on the Skaian gates during Nannasprite's lore (p.422). Thanks, Act 2. I miss you already.

Also I still love that frog.

[razorsadness]

Tuesday June 21, 1938 (Yosemite)

Dies Irae: Wakened at 5:30—dragged weary bones erect, dressed, closed baggage, was ready shortly before six, and we were off again "on the dot"—at six oclock. So out of Klamath, the lakes red, and a thread of silver river in the desert, and immediately

the desert, sage brush, and bare, naked, hills, giant-molded, craterous, cupreous, glaciated blasted—a demonic heath with reaches of great pine, and volcanic glaciation, cupreous, fiendish, desert, blasted—the ruins of old settlers homesteads, ghost towns and the bleak little facades of long forgotten postoffices lit bawdily by blazing rising sun and the winding mainstreet, the deserted station of the incessant railway—all dominated now by the glittering snow—pale masses of

Mount Shasta—pine lands, canyons, sweeps and rises, the naked crateric hills and the volcanic

lava masses and then Mount Shasta omnipresent—Mount Shasta all the time—always Mt. Shasta—and at last the town named Weed (with a divine felicity)—and breakfast at Weed at 7:45—and the morning bus from Portland and the tired people tumbling out and in for breakfast

and away from Weed and towering Shasta at 8:15—and up and climbing and at length into the passes of the lovely timbered Siskiyous and now down into canyon of the Sacramento in among the lovely timbered Siskiyous and all through the morning down and down and down the canyon, and the road snaking, snaking always with a thousand little punctual gashes, and the freight trains and the engines turned backward with the cabs in front

down below along the lovely Sacramento snaking snaking snaking—and at last into the town of Redding and the timber fading, hills fading, cupreous lavic masses fading—and almost at once the mighty valley of the Sacramento—as broad as a continent—and all through the morning through the great floor of that great plain

like valley—the vast fields thick with straw grass lighter

than Swedes hair—and infinitely far and unapproachable the towns down the mountain on both sides—and great herds of fat brown steers in straw light fields—a dry land, with a strange hot heady fragrance and fertility—and at last no mountains at all but the great sun-bright, heat-hazed, straw-light plain and the straight marvel of the road on which the car rushes

—Thomas Wolfe, from A Western Journal

[climbthemountain2020]

Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 3

Part 3/? | Ao3

I think I need an updated moodboard now that this isn't a oneshot, lol.

Thanks for all your amazing feedback, friends! You all make me smile :) Biggest thanks to my beta besties @cauldronblssd and @witch-and-her-witcher, I love you both!

If you would like to be added to the taglist going forward, let me know!

“There is somewhere else to find the answers you seek, if you're brave enough to look, that is.”

Feyre felt like she was about to jump into the wild air, nothing beneath her to catch her. Still, she didn’t hesitate.

“Tell me.”

Vincent’s big blue eyes shifted left to right beneath his glasses as though to check and make sure no one was in the store, then he rose more quickly than Feyre thought possible of his old joints and hobbled across the space to flip the store sign to “closed” in the window. He looked over his shoulder at her and nodded towards the back rooms, encouraging her to follow.

Feyre did not hesitate. The answers she knew she was about to get caused her head to swim with anticipation. She hurried behind Vincent, passing by the bookcases that she loved so much, the smell of old ink, weathered pages, and binding glue giving her the urge to inhale the sacred scent deep into her lungs. Vincent ducked around a final shelf, pulling open a door in the wall she’d somehow never noticed before, and ushering her in. Behind it was a small stone room, nothing but more bookshelves and a small table with two chairs pulled up to it. He prompted her to sit as he shut the door behind them, lighting a small, stout candle and setting it between them on the table.

The air was heavy with the most delicious anticipation, their very breath charged and magical as it danced around them. As he sat and settled in across from her, the candle cast shadows over his face making it look different in the low light.

“It’s been a long, long time since I’ve met a human as curious as you, Feyre.”

A human. Not a person.

“You’ve been so helpful, Vincent. Truly. I hope I haven’t been a bother–”

He lifted a hand to silence her as he smiled warmly. “While I have loved your company, I might have reached the end of my use, dear.” But the words didn’t sound sad.

“But, as always, you know where to look next, don’t you?”

The grin he shot her was wild, but in a way that produced that same spark through her chest that she felt when she read those books about roving adventurers and wild lands.

She didn’t feel nerves, she felt anticipation.

He leaned in closer, conspiratorially. “Oh yes. Of course. You can always find the answers you seek, if only you know where to look.”

Her blood practically burned with excitement.

I’m going to find you, Rhys.

“Deep in these woods, if you know the way, there is a cottage. It’s small and made of thick stones with a thatched roof and surrounded by mossy oaks with trunks as thick as horses.” He smiled a little, as if feeling whimsical just thinking about it. “It’s nearly three hours out from town, but easy enough to find if you know what to look for.”

“And you know what to look for?”

“Sweet Feyre, why ever would I bring you back here if I didn’t?”

She huffed a laugh as he took out a piece of parchment and began to jot notes as he explained to her the way to the cabin in the woods–a rock that looked like a great, mossy whale; a tree struck by lightning, split in two and blackened; a dry lake bed that looked like an immense crater in the earth surrounded by a circle of weeping willows.

“You’ll know you’re close when you stop hearing the birds. The trees and brush and ivy will become so intense you’ll scarcely be able to make your way through it, but push through. When you’ve made it, you’ll see a clearing. There you’ll find the cottage and the woman who lives there.

“Is she friendly?”

He waved her off. “I’ve only heard stories, of course, but she supposedly only helps those whom she deems honorable and worthy of purpose. I believe you must have a worthy purpose, else why would you be working so ardently to learn such things?” His expression was knowing, his eyes filled and sparkling with something that looked like hope.

“You’re very wise, Vincent. I hope you’re right.” At that, Vincent reached his hands across the table to grasp hers, his skin soft and leathered and warm to the touch. Comforting.

“My wife, Melusine, was the most special female I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. She was smart, cunning, and kind, with a sense of humor like a whip. She could make me laugh without fail, and she cooked the best food I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. She would read books with me at night, made me love creating drinks and pastries that would bring others joy, and more than anything, she taught me how to appreciate the simple pleasures the world offered.” Feyre felt a tugging in her heart listening to him speak, a longing. “Do you know, though, what my favorite thing about her was?”

“What?” Feyre asked, her attention rapt upon the old man.

“The way that she loved me. The fervor with which she did. And the way in which she received my love in return. As far as I’m concerned, no one has ever loved another more solidly. There are some loves that are written in the stars by the very strings of fate themselves, the love that people write stories and songs and epics about. Melusine and I had that.”

Feyre squeezed his hand solidly in hers; she could see the silver lining the corners of his eyes.

“Feyre, I sense that when I look at you, when you speak, when you question things. There is a great story in you, somewhere, perhaps at the end of all this research.” The breath left her lips in a sharp exhale. “Whoever he is, I hope he feels as strongly about you. And if he does, the very stars themselves will bow at the tale that led you to each other.”

“How can you tell?” Her voice was hushed, breathless. She had crossed a line tonight, and there would be no going back. She wouldn’t if she could.

“When you’ve lived as long as I have,” he patted her hand, pushing the parchment towards her with his other, “you learn to recognize cosmic events in the making. Good luck, Feyre. I hope she can tell you what you yearn to know.”

He stood again, bracing against the table as his old bones and joints cracked and popped.

“Thank you, Vincent. Truly.” She let him walk her to the front of the shop, opening the door for her and flipping the sign back to “open”.

“I hope this won’t be the last time you come visit an old man for coffee. Be brave, Feyre.” And with that last word of encouragement, she was off.

+++

His mouth was hot and wet against her skin, pressing to that juncture between her neck and shoulder with firm grace as she shivered beneath him, goosebumps peppering her arms. When his kisses trailed up to her jaw and earlobe, she shuddered so deeply she knew he’d felt it. She gave in and leaned back into his strong chest, his arms immediately snaking around her as though from memory, from habit. His hands gripped her waist, broad enough to span her ribcage almost entirely, and gave a firm squeeze.

“Rhys.” Her voice was a whisper on the wind, but everything was fuzzy, balmy, not-quite-there.

He didn’t respond, only continued the roaming of his warm hands across her stomach, the fingers teasing down, down, down as she inhaled. Oranges and brisk mountain air.

She tipped her head back, her mouth falling open lightly in the strange, low lights.

Tell me…..Feyre.

“Hmm?” She hummed, the question foggy and numb in her mind.

Feyre, Feyre. Tell me what you’ve learned, Feyre.

But all she could feel were his lips moving against her neck, the solid line of his body bracing her from falling. He would never let her fall.

Feyre. Feyre. Feyre.

She remembered he had asked a question, but the colors and feelings and sights and sound of the dream were pulling her like his hands. Down, down, down.

And she was waking up.

+++

With the directions Vincent had given her, scrawled in the most beautiful script she’d ever seen written, it wasn’t very hard to find the cabin. Feyre loved these woods, felt most at ease when she was in them, and even though the journey took nearly the whole morning, it was a peaceful one. She’d packed a very simple basket to avoid questions when she left this morning, just some cheese and bread and an apple for the trip, small enough that no one would think of it as any more than a trip into town.

The air was pleasant and warm, the sun shining in mottled patterns on the ground through the new leaves that grew in with the humid air. Feyre loved spring, too–the regrowth, the smells, and the symbolism of it all, but there was something about the fading of winter and those long, dark nights that she always grieved a bit as the sun moved longer and later across the sky. She missed the chill, the deep, lingering onyx sky that she could sit beneath and rationalize as much time as possible by herself. She longed for the cold breeze in the air and the cozy time spent with a mug in hand in Vincent’s shop. More often than anything else, she found herself painting stars and moons and sparkling beams of light dashed through a midnight expanse, as if the night itself called to her personally. Feyre thought perhaps she might just be made for the colder months, the longer darkness. But spring did afford her the opportunity to spend more time in the woods, so she took a deep, welcoming breath and pressed on.

When the birdsong ceased, she knew she was close. The silence was eerie, but she focused on the last push through the heavy brush and forest that Vincent had warned her about, the plants brushing across her face and tangling in her hair. With a final burst of energy, she was out on the other side, her eyes falling on the most beautiful and quaint fairytale cottage she’d ever seen. It looked straight from the pages of a picture book, the tiniest stream of smoke twirling out of the stone chimney atop it.

Do I knock?

She wished that she’d asked Vincent more about the specifics as she walked closer to the door, a strangely polished slab of what looked like oak, whirls and lines carved across the whole of it. She stood at the threshold for a moment, her hand half lifted, wondering if knocking on this stranger’s door was perhaps a bad idea, then mentally lashing herself for wasting time warring with her own thoughts.

How else would she know I’m here? Come on, Feyre.

She scoffed at her own thoughts and lifted her hand to knock, but the door pulled open before she could. Feyre jumped back instinctively, eyes wide and her breath caught in her chest as she beheld the figure before her. The woman was adorned in nearly threadbare but comfortable looking gray and black clothing wrapped loosely around her small frame. She was much older than Feyre had imagined somehow, hands covered with wrinkled, leathery skin holding the door and surrounding frame. Her hair was thinned with age and flowing silver in the breeze as she beheld the strange girl on her porch.

What really caught Feyre’s attention was the mask she wore. Eerily still and wide dark eyes beheld her from within the alabaster mask–the mask of a crane, complete with beak and diamond-studded outlines.

A mask. Was she mocking her? How could she possibly know about the ball?

The woman searched Feyre’s face and person, as if trying to make some sort of unspoken decision. When her eyes at last met Feyre’s again, she gave an almost imperceptible nod and opened the door wider as though to invite her in, then simply turned and walked back inside. Feyre, feeling as unsure as she’d ever been in her life, followed the woman, expecting all sorts of strange memorabilia to decorate the cabin like the mask on her face. Instead, she was shocked to find it looked incredibly cozy– normal, even.

Blankets were strewn across plush couches surrounding a lovely stone fireplace, big enough for the largest cauldron Feyre had ever seen to fit inside it. The endless shelves along the walls were filled with books and cups and jars and baubles, but strangely nothing seemed out of place. Her kitchen had a disarmingly cute array of what appeared to be hand-sewn towels and potholders and drapes over the window, and Feyre couldn’t help but inhale the warm scent of a stew set to boil, the fragrant steam seeming to kiss her nose from across the space.

The woman, shoulders slightly hunched but still able to move around the room with what seemed like great ease, reached up above the counters to grab two small cups and filled them with hot water from the kettle.

“Tea, dear?” Feyre wondered if perhaps it was smart to refuse, but a part of her felt compelled.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” The woman hummed, preparing the cups.

“Take a seat wherever you’re comfortable.” Feyre walked into the sitting space, choosing an armchair near the fireplace where she might be able to see the paintings on the mantle a bit closer. They were mostly paintings of nature–a massive oak tree, the moss hanging down from the branches like sheets draped over it, a large bonfire with shadowed figures dancing around it, a wooded path into a darkened forest. Feyre couldn’t take her eyes off them, the textures of the paints making the scenes jump off the canvas. She startled at the woman’s voice, much closer than she’d anticipated, the beak of the mask nearly brushing her arm.

“I can smell your hopes and dreams, dear Feyre.”

Feyre all but fell back into the seat as the woman nonchalantly handed her the warm cup on a saucer as if she hadn’t just said her name in the same breath as she’d scared her near to death with her presence.

“Are you a witch?” The question was breathless, and the woman just chuckled.

“Witch is a very loose term to encompass what it is that I do, but yes, you humans might call me a witch.”

Be brave, Feyre.

“Is that why you have the mask?” Feyre gestured.

“No, no, that's a story for another time.” The witch sat down on the couch across from her.

She settled herself, trying to calm her thundering heart. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She would get what she’d come here for.

“Since you know my name, it’s only fair I get yours.”

The witch’s grin was broad and toothy, and the mask shifted as it stretched across her moving face. “Ah, girl, you’ll do well in Prythian with a mind like yours.” Feyre tried hard to not let the surprise show on her face. “They call me Vilja. Now tell me, Feyre, what is it you seek?”

“Knowledge.” The word was out like a practiced answer before she could think of another.

“Ah, knowledge. Well, that truly is the base of everything, is it not? A society without knowledge is a society meant to crumble. A warrior with a sword is dangerous, but a warrior equipped with knowledge can topple dynasties.” Her eyes flashed with something Feyre couldn’t name.

“So tell me Feyre, what is it you truly desire?”

“I already told you, I want the knowledge. The knowledge of Prythian, specifically. Why am I dreaming of it so vividly?”

“Oh, is that all? You don’t yearn to know more about your darling Rhysand?”

“How do you know about him?”

“I see all, girl. I can see him right now, thinking of you endlessly as you think of him.” Feyre couldn’t help the warm blush that spread across her cheeks and neck. She was afraid to keep with her line of questions, so nervous of the answers Vilja held, but she pushed on.

“Why hasn’t he returned then? Is something keeping him?”

“Not something, but someone.” Jealousy crackled through Feyre’s veins unbidden, a sense of possession she wasn’t familiar with roared to life within her chest. Vilja just chuckled. “My dear girl, he is a prisoner. He would be here if you could. His heart calls to yours across the ether, endlessly.” That hot possession and jealousy meted out to a warm thrumming behind her ribs.

He thinks of me, too. He meant it all.

“Who is keeping him?” The urge to protect him overwhelmed all else, an anger blurring her vision that anyone would dare hold him, to keep him from her.

Vilja moved her mouth as though she meant to speak, but paused harshly, lurching abruptly forward as though she didn’t have control of her own actions, her dark eyes shooting to Feyre. “I am bound and cannot reveal more to you than what I have.”

Interesting. What was stopping her?

“Then what can you tell me?”

“What is the question you truly want to ask, girl?” There was a wicked mischief dancing in Vilja’s eyes. It made Feyre nervous, but it also encouraged her. Feyre knew deep in her bones Vilja had the answers she sought. She knew she could get the information she needed. She could get to Rhys, if only she had the courage to ask.

“Is he human?”

Vilja’s smile widened even more, if that were possible, her eyes glittering like a serpent’s. “And if he is not? Would it change anything?” Feyre did not hesitate.

“No, it would not.” Vilja nodded, the approval flooding through Feyre.

“So you know now, but you are still not asking the right questions. Try again.”

“What should I be asking?” She tried to keep the edge of frustration out of her voice, but Vilja still noticed and laughed, reaching across the distance to pat Feyre on the thigh.

“Ah, a will of steel. You’ll need that.” Feyre remained silent, eyes imploring Vilja to continue on. “If there was a way, if you could, what would you risk to be with him? Would you risk it all to gain forever?”

The yes was on the tip of her tongue, and she was momentarily surprised by the lack of hesitation. But Feyre had read enough books to know how these things worked; there would be a price.

“What would I need to do?”

“A bargain.”

“What sort of bargain?”

“I will ask again, what would you be willing to sacrifice for the chance to love him? What would you risk? What would you give?”

She thought back to Vincent’s words–she supposedly only helps those whom she deems honorable and worthy of purpose.

“Anything.” It seemed dramatic, insane, but she knew in that moment it was true. She remembered the rush she’d felt when their eyes had met across the room, that sense of fate having a hand in each step they took towards each other.

“You would wait?”

“I would, unfailingly.”

Even that night, she’d known on some deep level within herself that he was her future. This wasn’t a casual meeting at a masquerade ball, this was an event that had changed the entire trajectory of her life. He had changed it, wholly and irreparably.

“I will give you the powers of the High Lords of Prythian, though they will be muted because of your human soul. I will bring you to Prythian, and then you will have to figure out the rest on your own. You must be strong, unbreakable, cunning in the name of love, or you will not succeed.” Feyre was frightened, but she knew, here in this moment, it was the answer she had come here for. After all, what was the life that waited for her here worth? It was a life in a manor of marble and stone, waiting for a future that didn’t interest her, a life without purpose or joy or adventure. The fear melted to anticipation once again within her. She would be brave, she would live the life she wanted, and she would find the one she was meant to be with.

“How will I know how to find him? How will I know what to do if you can’t tell me?”

“You already have all the resources you need. You will have to break the–” She flinched as though in pain.

“Break the what?”

“I cannot. Find the seventh son of Autumn once I’ve brought you to Spring. He too is bound, but he and the High Lord can help you. You must find out what you need to know by any means necessary.”

“What is my end of the bargain then?”

“Rhysand, the one who gave you that ring, do you believe he could love you?” Feyre e was hardly surprised Vilja knew about the ring within her dress as she gestured casually to it.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

The responding smile was near feral in its wild abandon. “That is the only way you may achieve what you seek to do. It is the only way you may remain with him. He must love you, openly and without pretense, and be ready to sacrifice himself for you and you alone.”

“And if he does not?”

“Then this will have all been for naught. You will lose your powers, and you will die for your sacrifice.” Feyre swallowed heavily. “Is it worth it to you? Is he?”

He was.

“What do you get out of this? Why bargain with a human?”

“If you succeed, Feyre, everything.”

Feyre nodded, still confused but already knowing her answer.

“So, tell me, is it worth the risk?”

Vilja stuck out her hand. “Yes.” Feyre grabbed the hand in hers, noting how warm and smooth it felt contained within her own. A tingling sensation bloomed across the skin of her upper arm, stinging slightly as it pulled tight. Feyre looked down, almost expecting to see it through her shirt. Suddenly, a rushing began in her ears, the sound of whitewater booming through her senses as her eyes shot up to find Vilja, but she was gone, the colors of the cottage blurring frantically as her vision darkened. She was falling backwards, but she couldn’t make her arms grip anything as she did.

The last thought that crossed her mind was in a voice that was not hers, but was as familiar as her own anyway.

Feyre, Feyre, Feyre, what have you done?

Feyre shot up in her bed, her breath flooding her lungs in great gasps as the setting sun cast broad swaths of golden light across her legs, still dressed in the trousers she’d put on that morning.

She moved to get off the bed, only then noticing the crumpled piece of parchment clenched tightly within her fist. Her fingers shook as she unfolded it to find a single sentence scrawled messily onto it.

Meet me at the edge of the village at daybreak tomorrow. -Vilja

She got out of the bed, stumbling over her own feet, eyes feeling strange and not her own. The sun, despite setting over the lake, was too bright in her eyes, the dust particles floating within it somehow starkly visible to her.

What had happened when she made that bargain?

The bargain!

Feyre hustled to the mirror, tripping over her feet multiple times on the way, and she hastened to pull her shirt down over her shoulder. There, on her upper arm amongst the freckles, was a smattering of three small stars – a large one in the middle and slightly higher than the other two.

A bargain tattoo, just like in the stories.

She couldn’t help but smile a bit at the thought and she ran her fingers over it lightly. She knew that there was no way she was going to be able to sleep, so she chose instead to pack what meager things she would take with her. Surely there would be clothes in Prythian, so she only packed a few pairs of well worn pants and shirts. She threw her pen and notebook in the bag, the shell from her father, and a small tin of paints she’d treasured as long as she could remember. She packed it all into the shoulder satchel, frowning briefly at how light it was.

Was there truly so little of worth to her?

But it made sense, and it comforted her the more she thought about it. The life waiting for her was not to be found here within these walls, but out there in the big, wide world. She would be challenged, and she knew it would be far and away the most difficult thing she’d ever done, but she was ready. It was the adventure she’d been waiting for, and there was no chance she wasn’t meeting it with wide open arms, challenges and all.

Feyre snuck through the window as she had a million times, the lattice creaking beneath her as the last rays of sun disappeared from the sky. She would go to the willow and store her bag outside for a quick and subtle exit the next morning. Part of her felt bad for not saying goodbye to Nesta and Elain, but another, stronger part of her knew she would reconsider if she had to tell them to their faces.

Once she reached the bench and set her bag down, tucking it beneath to keep it safe from the elements, she sat. Looking back to the house through the flowing branches bright with leaves and new growth, she let her mind wander.

Could he see her in her room that night? Had he waited and watched as he left that ring for her? Did he know, even then, how things might play out? How drastically both their lives had changed?

She looked back to the bench, running her hand over the chilled, smooth stone.

“Is it worth it to you? Is he?”

He was.

“I am coming for you, Rhys. Hold on.”

Taglist: @cauldronblssd @buttercupcookies-blog @witch-and-her-witcher

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super Manga Ch. 94-96

We're still reading the Super Hero adaptation! It's not great!

Things continue pretty much like they did in the movie, although it's a little awkward how Chapter 94 opens with Pan waiting to get picked up from school, just like she was in Chapter 91, because Toyotaro wanted to show Piccolo doing a "normal" kindergarten pickup as a prelude to the story. And that might have seemed like a good idea on paper. You know, contrast a routine encounter with the zany scene we got in the movie. The problem is that it undermines the zany scene when we finally get to it. The whole point is that a "normal" version isn't that interesting to see, which is why they didn't show Gohan cooking breakfast or Dr. Hedo brushing his teeth in the movie.

Anyway, you read chapter 91 and it feels like they skipped to the middle of the movie because Pan's waiting at kindergarten. Then you get to Chapter 94 and you see Pan waiting at kindergarten again and think the story is starting over. Or was it preschool? The manga version has a sign over the property that reads "kindergarten", but Pan's only three so I don't know. Piccolo knocked her into a bunch of rocks earlier in the day, and now he's taking her home with a layover at Red Ribbon HQ, so the point of all of this is that nothing is really ever "normal" with Dragon Ball.

Back to the manga, Toyotaro drags out this scene by having a cop take notice of the Red Ribbon aircraft, but he immediately decides it's okay once he finds out it's for Mr. Satan's granddaughter. This might be the same cop who helped Goku find Bulma's house for the first time in the original Red Ribbon Army Saga, but I'm not interested in looking it up.

So once again, Toyotaro seems determined to cram in new material to this story, but it's always designed to be as dull as possible, answering questions no one asked. Why didn't Piccolo get a ticket for the aircraft being parked on the street? For the zero people who were concerned about this, Toyotaro heroically includes a traffic cop whose sole purpose is to remind us that it doesn't actually matter.

Chapter 94 continues up to the first leg of the Gohan/Gamma 1 fight. There's some changes to the fight choreography, but I'm not gonna do a side-by-side analysis or anything. It pretty much has to be different because of the medium involved. I'm pretty sure Gohan firing a Kamehameha is new, as is Gamma 1 shooting at him to counterattack. But I could be wrong.

While Gohan powers up to his Ultimate/Mystic/Elder Kai Unlock form, Krillin's family is just getting out of the movie theater where they watched Cleangod 2. I mentioned this scene before, but now that we're here, this is Teen Marron's only appearance in Dragon Ball Super, and here's the big pitch for the character: She's a huge fan of Cleangod. Just like Goten! And Trunks. And... Dr. Hedo. I'm not impressed.

Krillin senses Gohan fighting, then he gets a call from Police HQ.

For some reason, Krillin runs off and hides while he takes the call? Are people not supposed to know he's a cop? Everyone keeps staring at him the whole time, so if he's trying to keep this a secret, he's doing a lousy job of it. Also, when 18 asks him who he's talking to, she doesn't seem to believe his answer, so she insists on tagging along with him. Does... 18 not know Krillin's a cop? What is going on here?

The dumbest part of all of this is that Nutz is calling Krillin to tell him about the battle at the Red Ribbon Army base. Remember how she had Krillin follow Magenta and Hedo in Chapter 91? Because they knew Magenta had a secret base but they didn't know where it was? And then Krillin lost them before he could find it?

Okay, so apparently the police had suspected that it was in that crater lake, camouflaged by a hologram. In fact, they've suspected this for so long that they've been monitoring the lake with cameras, and when Gohan went ultimate he disrupted the hologram and revealed the base. Now they want Krillin to reconnoiter the area before they send in a bunch of guys.

This is just really dumb. I mean, if the police suspected the base was inside the lake, why didn't they just send Krillin to check it out in the first place? He could have gone there months ago, and if it was just a lake, the worst thing that would have happened is he'd get wet. But if it was a secret mercenary base, he could have just snuck in and out as easily as Piccolo did in this story. It would have been even easier, since Krillin's less conspicuous than Piccolo, and the Red Ribbon wouldn't have had Hedo's androids for support. Hell, Krillin could have taken out the entire base by himself, and all they had to do was send him to the lake that they were already monitoring.

Also, why is it the West City Police Department's job to bust the Red Ribbon Army? Isn't that a job for the Royal Military? None of this makes any sense. I mean, the purpose is to add more Krillin content to the story, but it's so forced that it becomes nonsensical. The movie makes so much more sense without the police involved at all. Again, it's another question that no one asked. "Why didn't the police find the Red Ribbon Army's hidden base?" Because it's a hidden base, that's why not!

Toyotaro seems almost desperate to give these fictional cops a chance to save face. Well they were trying very hard to locate the base, but they just couldn't find it before Piccolo did. Except his depiction of their efforts just makes them look worse. Sergeant Nutz seems to know everything about the Red Ribbon Army. She knew Magenta was secretly rebuilding it, she knew he was planning to contact Dr. Hedo, and when he would do it. She was even pretty sure where the Red Ribbon base was. Yet despite all this inside information, she still couldn't figure out how to respond to it.

All of this makes it look like a set up to explain Krillin showing up at the end of the movie, except, no, that's not what happens. He shows up at the end because Bulma calls him and tells him what's happening. Toyotaro saw the movie and thought: "No! That's not enough! We need three reasons for Krillin to go to the lake!"

1. He senses Gohan's ki from the battle. 2. Sgt. Nutz calls him and tells him to go check out the base. 3. Bulma calls him and tells him Piccolo is at the base.

Is that enough? Does Krillin have sufficient motivation to go yet? I'm not sure, let's throw in some more reasons.

4. Krillin is visited by the ghost of the pirates from that underwater cave. The ghost tells him that the Red Ribbon stole his treasure and hid it in the lake, so he pleads with Krillin to recover it so the pirates can rest in peace. 5. Marron really wants to check out the crater lake, becuase Cleangod 2 had a scene that was filmed there. 6. Vegeta briefly pops in using his manga-only Instant Transmission. He asks Krillin to check on a three-layer cake he ordered from the bakery, but Krillin mishears him and thinks he said "crater lake". 7. The Supreme Kai of Time deputizes Krillin into the Time Patrol and informs him of a temporal anomaly at the crater lake. 8. Krillin was going there anyway because it's on his way home.

Back to the fight, not much is different, although there's a brief moment where Piccolo coaches Gohan before they resume fighting their respective opponents. This is kind of redundant, because they both already understood they were fighting androids, and they're already in their strongest forms (as far as they know), so Piccolo is just stating the obvious here. At least he isn't telepathically summoning Krillin to get his butt over here. Piccolo actually trusts the plot of this movie.

The Gammas aren't quite as powerful in this version, so 2 has to give a little assist to 1, then they consider double-teaming Piccolo to improve their chances. This doesn't last long, though, since it's not like Gohan was just going to stand there and let Piccolo get beat down.

At Capsule Corp, Bulma starts assembling a squad to help Piccolo, and is surprised to learn that Trunks already knows about Dr. Hedo. She asks him why he never mentioned any of this before, and finally, finally, Toyotaro has come up with a question someone might have actually asked. Why didn't Trunks tell Bulma about all of this? Because he would have gotten in trouble for playing superhero, and also because Bulma wouldn't have taken his story seriously even if he had said anything.

So Bulma admits that she goofed, but now she ungrounds Trunks (and Goten, since he just showed up), and she wants them to join Piccolo in battle.

But she immediately regrets it, because Goten and Trunks can't pinpoint Piccolo's location with their ki senses. And this is Big Goten in a nutshell. The boys are eager to get in on the action, but they lack the skill and focus to be effective. They're basically the opposite of what Gohan was in his childhood. Gohan was constantly caught between adventure and study, and he ended up excelling in both things. But Goten and Trunks really don't get pushed hard in either direction. They don't have much motivation to study, and they're not very good at adventure stuff either. Bulma's giving them a chance to be heroes and they're blowing it.

Anyway, she calls Piccolo, and when he doesn't answer, she calls Krillin, which is the canonical reason they all show up together at the end of the story.

Oh, and here's an awesome shot of Cell Max. I can't stress this enough: The art in this thing is tremendous, but the writing is just dull as can be. Everything's either a rerun or a pointless filler scene.

When Cell Max crawls out to fight all the good guys, Goten and Trunks offer to give Piccolo and Gohan a breather, and they switch to their Saiyaman X-1 and X-2 suits. Pan's into it, but everyone else find it dumb. I guess Marron should have come along and maybe she'd enjoy this...