#Oio

[mildlybizarrecorvid]

i am like a fly that wont leave you alone and once you think I'm gone I come right back and no matter what I'm always watching

OowoO U u u U

I know that's a spider but I don't know how to make a fly-

Splendid.

[oiocenter]

[uniqueartisanconnoisseur]

Solar Eclipse Fashion!

The 2024 Solar Eclipse is in the record books. This amazing life changing, soul searching event brought together people from all over the US (and in some cases the world) and from all walks of life.  The total solar eclipse was visible in the US from Texas to Maine with a partial eclipse visible almost nationwide. To celebrate an event like this, sometimes it takes a bit of cohesion for those…

[christakahashi]

This was the smaller strike. The larger one spit hook. Oh well, it was still fun! #okumasstrod #okumahelios #okumaheliossx40 #okumafishing #okumausa #okumafishingusa #mustadringedhooks #eminentbraid #oio #bonefish #bonefishing #catchandrelease https://www.instagram.com/p/CnbeGrFuaPm/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[wish-i-were-heather]

i thunks t i hsould got os leep but ruifd sont know why im so trued because its onltr 1:22am nrahd i goto bed wat later so i th tikt eh stupid schulll sustep is metigneu to tme

eeeee

ewathit i didnt ptut h tttat there

tgjroe away wwwee

noeeeeee

og oawayyae errrr coels i sso bad dur stint kno st uf i sslike him ot nha be uc eb fe you knhts etw also tos ht teretoo many tnotes and b y4au ah atags theres athagign thumrr

tbwui dint care but i n 7tg grgades i wet out all out wait not uetefh and hs ekept i a n moved saw aleik te

[lelianaslefthand]

wyllyam......

[sonicfangamebot]

'Planet Oio' (2018) by SaltySquid (Original Demo) Part of the @SAGExpo this year. https://sonicfangameshq.com/forums/showcase/planet-oio-0-4.171/

[parure-d-insomnie]

Ultrafog_____'OIO' (2018)_____

Ep: 'How Those Fires Burned That Are No Longer'______label 'Motion Ward'.

[ortegadorra]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀oh,  hazel  eyes. . .

já  mirou  olhos  da  cor  de  oliva ?  já  foi  arrastado  por  olhos  da  cor  da  terra  após  chuva ?  já  nadou  em  olhos  da  cor  de  avelã ? 

gong-pujol.  não  sendo  ainda  os,  literalmente,  únicos  nobres  de  andorra  -  emanuel  ainda  tem  sua  mãe  -,  são  certamente  os  três  mais  bem  conhecidos  e  falados.  são  perfeitos.  são  carismáticos.  são  tão  bondosos.  e  ah,  aqueles  olhos!  certamente,  o  maior  tesouro  de  um  gong-pujol:  os  olhos  que  mudam  de  cor. 

verdes  e  azuis?  overrated.  enxergue  ouro  quando  um  gong-pujol  olhá-lo  da  varanda,  sob  a  luz  do  sol  da  manhã.  enxergue  o  verde  escuro  como  musgo  ou  oliva  quando  um  gong-pujol  olhá-lo  sob  a  luz  artificial  que  ilumina  a  sala  durante  a  tarde.  enxergue  a  terra  fofa  e  úmida,  quando  um  gong-pujol  olhá-lo  sob  a  luz  da  lua.  

quais  eram  as  chances  de  pai  e  mãe  -  de  etnias  tão  diferentes  -  não  só terem  os  mesmo  olhos  que  contam  tantas  histórias,  mas  passarem  para  sua  prole  o  poder  de  continua-las? 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀. . . that’s  when  you'll  know:  that  one  is  a  gong-pujol.

comte / conde  emanuel  gong-pujol;  hoje  com  seus  cinquenta  e  seis  anos  de  idade,  vive  e  curte  um  casamento  de  quase  trinta.  se  já  traiu  no  meio  disso,  fez  muito  bem,  pois  nem  mesmo  esse  narrador  ouviu  falar.  e  me  atrevo  a  dizer:  ele  quem  se  apaixonou  depois,  mas  se  apaixonou  pesado!  meteu-se  a  aprender  coreano  só  por  causa  de  evelyn  -  hoje,  entende  tudo  da  língua,  embora  ainda  tem  sotaque  pesado  demais  para  ser  facilmente  compreendido!  não  é  como  se  importasse  para  o  público,  contudo,  que  idioma  ele  fala  ou  deixa  de  falar:  emanuel  tem  o  dom  de  se  comunicar  sem  usar  a  voz;  são  os  olhares,  os  gestos,  os  sorrisos.  “ seria  um  rei  perfeito ”  frase  que  nunca  saiu  da  opinião  do  povo  de  andorra.   [  fc:  mads  mikkelsen  ]

comtessa  /  condessa  evelyn “ siyeon ” gong-pujol;  hoje  com  seus  cinquenta  e   quatro  anos  de  idade,  não  se  arrepende  de  ter  deixado  sua  família  nobre  na  coréia  do  sul.  não  foi  la  muito  bem  vista,  não. . .  deveria  estar  casada  com  um  coreano  -  a  relação  dela  com  a  família  não  é  das  mais  genuínas,  pois  o  lado  de  lá  adora  meter  um  sorrisinho  de  arrependido,  entretanto,  devem  bem  meter  a  língua  por  trás!  ela  conheceu  emanuel  em  um  intercâmbio  e  se  apaixonou  primeiro.  achou  um  mico  o  querido  tentando  falar  coreano,  mas  reconheceu  os  esforços.  completamente  diferente  do  que  esperavam  das  mulheres  coreanas  (e  nobres) da  sua  época,  evelyn  tem  até  doutorado!  relações  internacionais  e  direito  são  sua  área,  e  embora  não  exerça,  não  para  de  se  atualizar.  assim  como  emanuel,  carrega  graciosidade  e  carisma  de  milh��es!  aliás, aproveita  que  ela  está  em  uma  tour  sobre  o  livro  dela:  dizem  que  é  inspirador  a  oratória  da  mulher.  [  fc:  lee  young  ae  ]

their  prince /  ortega  gong-pujol;  o  maior  filho  de  mamãe  e  papai!  aí  tu  pensa:  deve  ser  um  nojo  quando  com  os  pais,  então.  não!  ele  é  nojo  só  com  vocês,  da  academia,  mesmo.  com  os  pais?  nossa,  você,  filho  de  família  disfuncional  teria  inveja  da  cumplicidade  e  união  dos  três!  não  são  a  perfeição,  mas  chegam  perto  do  que  uma  família  deveria  ser. . .  os  pais,  coitados,  são  não  fazem  ideia  do  que  o  filho  seria  capaz  de  fazer  afim  de,  no  futuro,  proporcionar  a  melhor  vida  para  eles;  a  vida  que  eles  sempre  mereceram.  [  fc:  seo  kang  joon  ]

[haneys]

Jaw drop.do green next smiles

some greens that didn't fit in previous ask :)

1. SBM - Hotel Maffija, 2. Oki, Young Iggy, Otsochodzi - OIO, 3. Dawid Podsiadło - Leśna Muzyka (live, czyli na żywo), 4. Żabson - Obok, 5. Ewa Farna - Umami, 6. Gorillaz - Song Machine, Season One: Strange Timez, 7. Hozier - Wasteland, Baby!

[farmergilesofham]

My Second Destiny OC Story (Part 2 of the first)

---

Having dealt with the wanderers' Hive-related problem, I found myself showered by invitations to accompany the group in their journey towards the Last City, of which they too had heard tell. Their accounts differed somewhat from the stories Loxley had regaled me with, but remained much the same in the important respects: it was a safe haven, it was a place of rest, it was a place where they could raise their children without fear. The Last City, in my travels with these people and others, took on mythical form - it was with a religious fervor that the young and old alike spoke of it, of its flying buttresses, of its valiant defenders, of a city bathed in the eternal reverent Light of the Traveler.

All told, I was their protector for ninety-seven years. We crossed an ocean together.

Before my arrival, the party (whom the children tried to name all manner of creative things, to little avail) had subsisted mainly by scavenging for food, water, and supplies. Their defensive capabilities were nonexistent, and their pursuit by a single contingent of Hive had left everyone ragged and on the near edge of despair. I soon set about rectifying their situation.

The surrounding landscape still seemed shockingly devoid of life, despite being so close to fairly dense woodland, yet it was not awfully long before careful snares found a dozen oversized hares, and scrummaging in the undergrowth produced some of the most excellent mushrooms I have ever had the genuine pleasure to set eyes upon. Travel was essential, however, so I set about having the strongest of the adults fell a few thin beeches, which were swiftly lashed together into the base of a hand-cart. However, with the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, I despaired for the lack of some solid wooden wheels, until I was shown the most excellent invention made popular at some point after my death - wheels crafted from solid metal! Quite the invention indeed.

Fitted with a proper set of wheels, repurposed from some terribly rusted machine, the cart housed most of the group's possessions, and seated the children when travelling across difficult terrain. We set out that same evening, the group filled with a sudden confidence that my arrival meant they could finally entertain their dream of reaching the Last City, alive.

The stars are different now than I remember them, if only slightly. There are somewhat fewer of them.

Our first meal, taken around midnight as we reached a more defensible location - a wooded hollow, in the midst of three rotund boulders - was apparently the best they had had in months. It was the first thing I had eaten in centuries, but to mention such a thing would have been rude, I figured. The spit-roasted hares were delicious, as were the mushrooms we fried on a large, flat rock. I found some small root vegetables quite similar to potatoes growing just at the foot of one boulder, and a treatment on the rock found they were, indeed, some variation of potato hitherto unknown to me. I have made note of these and other new plants in my personal journal, which for now I shall be keeping to myself. I can't have you stealing my best recipes, can I?

I watched over them, sleeping huddled together around the long fire, as the gentle light of the stars slipped away in lieu of a warm, bright sunrise. We set off shortly thereafter, and that is when I learned all their names.

The eldest members of the party, each at least sixty when I joined them, if not older, were Darma, Mago, and Kara. Darma was a surprisingly spry, chestnut-brown woman, with all the telltale signs of a long and active life resplendent on her ever-smiling face. Mago, a crotchety old fellow ever possessed of more bark than bite, as he snuck little sugardrops to the children while their parents weren't looking, only to complain over some ache of his or another when eyes turned back to him. He, too, had skin dark by nature, and darkened still by so much time in the sun, in contrast with the shock of white hair miraculously clinging on to his aged scalp. Kara was... she was kind. She was easily the most able of the elders, and used that ability wisely indeed. In the end, she outlived even some of the younger generation, and we buried her under the shade of an aged oak in sight of the sea. She always said that if nothing else, she wanted to see the ocean at least once before she died.

I sat with her, in the light of the setting sun, and held her hand as she passed with the ending of the day.

The other original members of the party were Aulia, Alina, Siobhan, Kronan, Salieri, Perrhe, and Himilco among the adults, along with the children: Stora, Sinon, Parrha, Arrhon, Siti, Velasqua, and Kastor. Most folk were unrelated, stragglers picked up along the road or secreted away from unfavourable situations. Perrhe, Parrha and Arrhon were the only ones there related by blood, and they flourished when everyone worked together. It was after learning everyone's names that I taught the children how to make themselves a sling, with which they might catch themselves a bird for dinner, or knock down anything stuck higher than they could reach it. For the rest, as we made camp the following evening, I fashioned in short order a set of staves, with slots for lashing on simple metal points.

Though the stars are a little different, I can still navigate by their position, and indeed I used this to our advantage... until Lox chimed in, helpfully pointing out that in fact he had had a compass embedded somewhere in that biscuit tin of a body this entire time. Alas, my chances of seeming the all-knowing leader were dashed, and Lox was unbearable for the rest of the week. Do not believe anything he tells you about my being weepy and inconsolable, it is nonsense.

At a certain point, a hazy, jagged mass appeared on the horizon. We spent much of the day walking along well-beaten earth towards it, each mile passed emphasising the enormity of what we then thought was a low mountain, encrusted with outcrops of jagged stone.

That is all, for now. Of my first meeting with a Warlord, and the events which transpired thereafter, I may yet relay at a later date.

[thejaymo]

WalkCast.FM

Took a walk with WalkCast today.

It's billed as a “Story Telling Engine,” which is definitely more snappy than saying: An AI powered - location based - narrative non fiction - podcast generator. It’s quite a fun little app. I’m reposting their marketing video below, as I can’t seem to link directly to it: How it Works The app grabs your location,…

[posted-en-route]