#Stowe Gondola

[jandeproductions]

Third round of early season snows for Vermont’s Green Mountains have been the most impactful yet

The Sugarbush Golf Course Webcam was starting to reveal the mountain snows on Tuesday as our latest round of winter weather hit the Greens. We’re wrapping up our third round of early season snows here in the Green Mountains of Vermont, and this cycle has certainly raised the bar with respect to accumulations. For several days, the weather modeling has shown the potential for a solid shot of snow…

[roadtripnewengland]

Riding the Gondola SkyRide for the Best View in Stowe, Vermont https://bit.ly/3QiNPgQ

[thegirlwiththeblush]

Topolino

Ezio Auditore x Reader

Summary: A pickpocket runs into an unusual altercation on his way home from his daily antics. 

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing in Italian

Special thanks to @vorsdany, one of my fav humans who courageously proofread for me once again (love ya bro <3)

i hope at least one person enjoys this because i have no fellow assassin's creed fan friends :,D

The wind whistled lowly through the alley I crouched in as I counted my day’s worth of findings. I shook the florins into my hand, trying not to grab the attention of passersby. Counting money wasn’t a crime, but had I been lucky, the total would’ve been incredibly suspicious.

But unfortunately, the victims of my shenanigans that day must not have been as wealthy as I would’ve liked, because I hadn’t even come close to my goal. I grumbled softly as I spilled my findings back into my leather purse, pulling the strings taut before stowing it in my shirt.

Findings, plunder, dirty money, call it what you want.

I rose to my feet with little enthusiasm; I didn’t like going home without hitting my target. Maybe on my way back I could sneak a couple more florins, just for the satisfaction. I’d have enough to buy something substantial for breakfast the next morning before starting up my escapades once again.

Peeking out of the alley, I joined the crowds with the smallest movements possible, careful to avoid the attentive gazes of any nearby guards as we headed into the town square. The sun sank lower in the sky as I shifted through the streets, jumping from group to group, never walking alone. People were quick to recognize a pickpocket, and if I ran into anyone I’d previously preyed on, my small collection from the day would be the least of my problems.

Shopkeepers all around were packing down their stalls, and travelling doctors were packing up their equipment. No doubt they all had families or friends to go home to, wives to complain to their customers about, frustrating children who took up their personal space, neighbours who intruded at the most inconvenient times. They must consider themselves so unfortunate, and yet I’d give anything to be in their shoes, instead of going ‘home’ to an abandoned, dilapidated gondola. I sighed heavily and shifted from the crowded town square into a narrower street, gently pushing aside an obnoxious minstrel as I went.

Only to stumble upon two figures dueling around three corpses.

I ran and grabbed a ledge nearby, hoisting myself up to avoid the clashing swords as the two of them moved up and down the alley with ease, their swords still swinging back and forth. I crouched and observed in stunned silence; one of the figures, garbed in a white, flowing cloak, appeared to be gaining the advantage over the other, who, upon closer inspection, I recognized as a guard, as were the bodies sprawled over the path. This guy appeared to be in over his head.

“It's a good thing I needed an excuse to test out this new blade of mine,” the mysterious man remarked. “I must be lucky, stumbling upon an eager idiot like you.”

I was shocked to hear the confident tone coming from the cloaked figure. He sounded young, but bold, and his wisecrack didn’t slow him in his advances.

“I wouldn’t call a man who lost his father and brother in one fell swoop ‘lucky’,” the guard sniggered in retort, and the cloaked figure’s strikes became swifter and even more aggressive as he growled lowly, “Fottiti, bastardo!”

The guard stumbled back, and the vigilante didn’t miss a beat; sheathing his sword with one hand and drawing a short blade with his other, he grabbed the guard’s shirt front with his now free left hand and spun him round, wrapping his arm around his neck. He held the blade to the man’s throat, his hood keeping his face out of my sight.

“Please,” the guard whimpered, “have mercy on me!”

The cloaked figure shrugged. “Va bene,” he relented, before sliding the dagger clean across his gullet. “I’ll make it quick.”

The guard crumpled to the ground, a few strangled moans escaping his mouth before he went silent. The cloaked figure knelt and wiped his blade on the guard’s shirt, and he snuck his hand into the leather pouch at the waist, withdrawing a few florins with a smirk.

Only then did I realize my mouth had been agape as I’d watched, and a short involuntary noise of shock flew out before I could shut it. The man spun round to face me, holding his dagger in a defensive position as he looked me up and down.

“Merda,” he murmured somewhat nervously. “What do you want? What are you doing here?”

“I- I-” I stammered, but before I could come up with an answer, he was on the ledge next to me in two or three steps.

“I didn’t even see you sneak in here,” he said, tilting his head like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “You sly devil; were you sent to spy on me?”

“No, no, not at all,” I hurriedly assured him, my hands raised slightly, afraid he might not believe me. “I swear, this is my route home and I stumbled upon your little conflitto, and I did not wish to interrupt.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Conflitto, hm? You think that’s all it was?”

He acted as if he wanted me to call him out. “What, are you some kind of dangerous criminal? Or did they call you bambino and hurt your feelings?”

He inhaled sharply and stepped toward me, and suddenly I lost my newly-found confidence and raised my hands once again. “Just a joke, just a joke!” I protested, and gave a short laugh as if to prove it. He rolled his eyes and turned away from me, climbing down from the ledge.

I blinked in confusion. “Y- You’re just gonna walk away?”

“I have better things to do than entertain a little intelligentone who’s up past their bedtime,” he replied without turning his head. “I’m going home.”

I was no longer impressed by this guy; now, he was getting on my nerves. I jumped down after him, and before he could turn to face me, I snuck his stiletto out of its place in his belt, slipping it complacently into my own.

“What do you want, birbante?” he demanded roughly, swinging something around on his finger by the drawstring.

My leather purse. How the hell-

“Give me back my blade and you can have your dirty money, fair and square.” He held his hand out patiently, and I handed him the dagger with little hesitation, reaching for the purse. He smirked at my desperation, and I scowled. “You think you’re clever, hm, furfante? You want to play a little game?”

I couldn’t say I liked the patronizing tone he’d taken on, but after that stunt, his proposition was enticing. I wanted to know what else this mysterious and strangely dressed young man had up his sleeve.

“All right,” I relented. “What did you have in mind?”

He turned to face the town square behind us, his gaze settling on the tallest building, and he nodded to himself. “I want you to race me to the top of that building.”

I blinked once again, but I let the moment of hesitation pass. “Sure,” I agreed, folding my arms confidently. I had no doubt this man was incredibly agile, but I was not going to back down after he challenged me like I was a toddler.

He cracked his knuckles and smirked at me. “On my count, then.” He took a deep breath and shook out his legs and arms in preparation. “One, two-”

“Three!” I could not possibly have resisted the opportunity; I took off, leaving him in the dust and reaching the base of the tower in seconds. Leaping up and grabbing a small outcrop with both hands, I resisted the temptation to look down and check his progress. I reached up with smug satisfaction, sure that my surprise was enough of a headstart to ensure my victory.

Until a light grunt a few palms away from me startled me out of my reverie.

He was not climbing, but rather, leaping; as he flew up from each perch, he reached for the next, clasping with both hands and using his incredible upper body strength to hoist himself up.

Unlike me, he was unable to resist the urge; he snuck a peek down at me and sent a charming smirk my way before resuming his ascent.

I groaned in frustration when I realized I’d come to a complete stop to watch his method. I continued climbing, reaching for anything I could get a decent grip on. I was fast, but nowhere near fast enough; by the time my blistered hands had gotten me half-way, he was dangling his legs over the edge of the top, watching me with his chin in his palm and his elbow resting on his thigh.

“You’re like a little mouse,” he taunted. “You scurry, but ever so slow! If I’d known you were going to take so long, I’d have brought some bread and wine up with me; I’m starving up here.”

“Maybe I did this on purpose, then, to give you a taste of my life,” I retorted bitterly. “Not everyone can just go around murdering soldiers when they want to break the law.”

As I pulled myself up the last few arms and up onto an overhang, he narrowed his eyes at me. “You think I was fighting because I had to steal food?”

I shrugged slightly as I crawled carefully over to where he sat on the edge. “How should I know? I just met you.”

He grunted. “Fair point.” Sighing deeply, he added, “It’s far more complicated than that, I’m afraid.”

Unsure of what to say, I nodded slowly, waiting to see if he would continue.

“My name is Ezio,” he explained. “Ezio Auditore.”

I recognized the name. After a moment of contemplation, I remembered where from; two men by that name had been hanged a few weeks ago, for a crime I could not recollect.

“My family was falsely accused of treason,” he added, as if reading my thoughts. “I seek to avenge them. That is all you need to know.” He looked so sad as he finished this statement that I felt a twinge of pity for him, forgetting our petty competition. I had no doubt he was telling the truth.

“Well, I live in an abandoned gondola and I steal money from people,” I said, “so, if that makes you feel any better...”

He chuckled lightly, and smiled at me; the gesture filled me with a warmth I had not felt in years; something like what I’d felt when my mother or father would smile at me, but, a little different.

Before I could express any sort of feeling, he rose to his feet, dusting himself off. “Well, topolino,” he said, “this was fun. We should meet again and have a rematch someday.”

I laughed. “Topolino, hm? That’s quite an upgrade from birbante.”

He grinned mischievously, tousling my hair and filling my stomach once again with warm butterflies. “Like I said,” he whispered, “like a little mouse.”

He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, perching on the overhang I’d pulled myself up on earlier. Turning back for one last look at me, he beamed and winked at me, before leaping over the edge.

My jaw dropped as he disappeared, but I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his body hitting a wheelbarrow full of hay below. I peeked over to watch him sprint away, already missing his charming aura, wily as it was.

Reluctantly, I began my descent, wondering if I’d ever see the hooded vigilante ever again.

Translation Guide: fottiti: fuck you bastardo: bastard va bene: all right merda: shit intelligentone: wiseguy/know-it-all/smart-ass birbante: rascal furfante: scoundrel topolino: baby mouse

[roomchailimited]

Winter Wonderland: A Traveler’s Guide to North America’s Best Snow Destinations

Winter in North America transforms the continent into a magical wonderland, offering a variety of snow-covered landscapes perfect for both adventure enthusiasts and those seeking serene, picturesque settings. From the majestic peaks of the Rocky Mountains to the charming snow-laden towns of New England, there is no shortage of destinations where winter’s beauty is on full display. For Bangladeshi travelers looking to experience the best of winter, North America provides an array of unforgettable snowy escapes.

The Rocky Mountains: Colorado’s Winter Paradise

Colorado is renowned for its world-class ski resorts and breathtaking mountain vistas. Aspen and Vail, two of the most famous destinations, offer more than just skiing. Aspen is known for its vibrant cultural scene, including art galleries and upscale dining, while Vail boasts a European-style village with luxurious amenities and a variety of winter sports. Both destinations offer expansive ski terrains suitable for all levels, from beginners to seasoned professionals. Beyond skiing, visitors can enjoy snowshoeing, snowmobiling, and scenic gondola rides that showcase the stunning winter landscape.

Whistler, British Columbia: Canada’s Premier Winter Destination

Whistler, located in British Columbia, is Canada’s largest and most popular ski resort. Nestled in the Coast Mountains, Whistler offers over 8,000 acres of skiable terrain, making it a paradise for winter sports enthusiasts. The resort is famous for its reliable snowfall, diverse range of activities, and vibrant village life. Visitors can indulge in activities such as skiing, snowboarding, heli-skiing, and après-ski entertainment. The picturesque village at the base of the mountains provides a cozy atmosphere with numerous dining, shopping, and entertainment options, ensuring a perfect blend of adventure and relaxation.

Vermont: New England’s Snowy Charm

The state of Vermont in New England is home to quaint towns and idyllic landscapes that become even more enchanting under a blanket of snow. Stowe and Killington are two of Vermont’s top winter destinations. Stowe, often referred to as the “Ski Capital of the East,” offers a quintessential New England experience with its charming village, historic inns, and excellent ski slopes. Killington, known for its extensive ski terrain and vibrant après-ski scene, attracts both families and avid skiers. Beyond skiing, visitors can explore the region’s scenic trails for cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and even sleigh rides.

Quebec City, Quebec: A Winter Wonderland with European Flair

Quebec City transforms into a fairytale-like setting during the winter months, combining historic charm with festive winter activities. The city’s highlight is the annual Quebec Winter Carnival, one of the largest and most famous winter festivals in the world. Visitors can enjoy ice sculptures, parades, snow slides, and a variety of outdoor activities. The iconic Château Frontenac, overlooking the snow-covered St. Lawrence River, adds to the city’s magical ambiance. For a unique experience, travelers can visit the nearby Ice Hotel, where everything from the walls to the furniture is made of ice and snow.

Lake Tahoe, California/Nevada: A Winter Haven with Scenic Beauty

Straddling the border of California and Nevada, Lake Tahoe is a stunning winter destination known for its crystal-clear lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains. The region offers an abundance of winter activities, including skiing, snowboarding, and ice skating. Heavenly and Squaw Valley are two of the most popular ski resorts in the area, offering a mix of challenging slopes and breathtaking views. In addition to skiing, visitors can enjoy snowshoeing, snowmobiling, and scenic cruises on the lake. The combination of outdoor adventure and the serene beauty of the lake makes Lake Tahoe a perfect winter getaway.

Conclusion

North America’s winter destinations offer a diverse range of experiences, from adrenaline-pumping adventures on the slopes to cozy retreats in charming villages. For Bangladeshi travelers seeking the ultimate winter escape, these snowy wonderlands provide the perfect backdrop for creating unforgettable memories.

Plan Your Winter Escape with Roomchai Limited

Roomchai Limited is here to help you design the perfect winter getaway to North America’s top snow destinations. Whether you’re looking for thrilling ski adventures or serene snowy landscapes, Roomchai Limited ensures a seamless and unforgettable travel experience. Embrace the magic of winter with Roomchai Limited, and discover the best that North America has to offer.

[nithishma]

Places To Visit In Macau

Macau is a vibrant and unique destination known for its blend of Chinese and Portuguese cultures, stunning architecture, and lively entertainment options. Here are some Places To Visit In Macau:

Ruins of St. Paul's: This iconic site is the remains of a 17th-century church, showcasing intricate stone carvings and offering a glimpse into Macau's colonial history.

Senado Square: A charming pedestrian square surrounded by pastel-colored buildings, this area is perfect for leisurely strolls, shopping, and people-watching.

A-Ma Temple: One of the oldest temples in Macau, dedicated to the goddess of seafarers, A-Ma Temple offers a peaceful retreat with beautiful architecture and stunning views.

Macau Tower: If you're an adrenaline junkie, you can try bungee jumping from the Macau Tower, or simply enjoy panoramic views of the city from its observation deck.

Macau Peninsula: Explore the historic heart of Macau, where you'll find colonial-era architecture, charming streets, and markets.

Taipa Village: This charming area features traditional Macanese houses, cobblestone streets, and a variety of dining options that showcase the unique fusion of Chinese and Portuguese cuisines.

Coloane Village: Known for its tranquil atmosphere, Coloane Village offers scenic hiking trails, quaint streets, and the famous Lord Stow's Bakery known for its Portuguese egg tarts.

Macau Fisherman's Wharf: A themed entertainment complex with various attractions, including shopping, restaurants, and a casino.

Cotai Strip: This area is home to many of Macau's modern casinos, luxury hotels, and entertainment complexes. The Venetian Macao, with its indoor canals and gondola rides, is a highlight.

Museum of Macau: Learn about the history and culture of Macau through a wide range of exhibits, artifacts, and interactive displays.

Guia Fortress and Lighthouse: Climb up to the fortress for panoramic views of Macau, and visit the lighthouse, which is one of the oldest in China.

Hac Sa Beach: Relax on this black sand beach located on Coloane Island, where you can enjoy swimming, picnicking, and outdoor activities.

Macau Science Center: A modern and interactive science museum suitable for visitors of all ages.

Street Food Markets: Don't miss the opportunity to try local snacks and street food at markets like Red Market and Taipa Village Food Street.

Wine and Grand Prix Museums: If you're interested in wine or motorsports, these unique museums offer insights into Macau's history and culture.

CONCLUSION : Remember that Macau is a relatively small destination, so you can easily explore many of these attractions within a few days. Make sure to also indulge in the local cuisine and enjoy the unique blend of cultures that Macau has to offer.

[seilbahntechnik]

Smugglers’ Notch and Stowe Propose Interconnect Gondola https://ift.tt/qlMBkp8

[duvalpete]

Mt. Mansfield. July 2022.

[bloodoftigers]

Magician’s Secret

The Phantom of the Opera x Harry Potter magic crossover story. (FFN / AO3)

Worlds collide as the Opera Ghost gains an unexpected accomplice in the form of a witch from Hogwarts. In this twisting iteration, dark wizards descend upon the Paris Opera House in search of the Elixir of Life and the Elder Wand.

Chapter 01 - (4,570 words) Dreams of a Witches’ Sabbath 

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

A ravaging rip echoed over the lake.

His fingers paused, hovering over the ivory keys. Despite the power of his pipe organ, the distant rumblings tore his mind away from composing. He rose and curiously walked towards the water's edge. Rounding a corner of the underground cavern an odd breeze blew past. It was too strong to be the usual drafty chill. Flickering candlelight cast twisted shadows over the room but his eyes saw through it to the middle of the lake. Something was amiss.

Standing from the shoreline he felt the wind picking up until a large gust blew all the candles out. He fastened a cloak around his shoulders before stepping onto his gondola and began paddling to the disturbance. As he neared the center the wind stopped altogether and the choppy waves calmed. The black water reflected only darkness. He started to suspect some rare weather anomaly had to be thrashing the exterior of the opera house to feel it so far down below. A winter storm was plausible, he expected a great deal of snow to fall in the evening.

Just as he was about to turn back he noticed a sickly green light emanating from beneath the surface. The ripples obscured a clear view. Leaning forward he peered into the deep lake and wondered what trick of the light would cause it. This area was too many stories removed from the streets of Paris to receive direct sunlight. Perhaps a stroke of good fortune would lead him to discover a cluster of emeralds. While maintaining his balance in the gondola he leaned downwards to inspect the rising bubbles. They grew from one or two to a whole fountain and with it, the green light shone brighter.

Before he could decide how to proceed a column of water erupted. Recoiling from the blast he was stung by icy droplets. The rising water sprouted high and in the resulting waves, his fingers dug into the steering oar to steady himself. Green hues danced over the surface as he began to worry about flooding. Suddenly, the reverse waterfall dissipated and the light vanished.

He dropped his tensed shoulders and exhaled sharply. Some extremely rare weather indeed, he summed it up to trapped air pockets in the lake's depths being released matched with exposed toxins in the air to create the illuminating display. He resolved to return to his affairs as if nothing had happened until he saw the body floating toward him. It was a female, young, with long hair and luckily orientated faceup. He reached out to grab her to check if she was dead. He could not tell for certain from looks alone as she had not yet started to decay.

Pulling her onto his gondola he was surprised to find her completely dry. She was cold to the touch with a faint pulse, her eyes remained closed. She appeared as if in deep sleep or otherwise unconscious. She wore some type of student uniform, whether it was from a boarding school or university he could not decide. Her age was eluding him. She appeared to be around the ages of the chorus girls and ballet dancers, but he did not recognize her from anywhere. Her clothes were not of the latest fashion and they were too unusual to be some new costume idea. She wore a heavy black cloak but he could see underneath there was an odd green robe.

A thud sounded against the boat's hull, he turned and saw a broom floating in the water with a small bag wrapped around its handle. He suspected that his lack of sleep and food was contributing to this mystifying dream. Regardless he plucked both items up and stowed them on board.

He steered them both back across the lake to his home. In his mind, he considered all of the places to return her to, assuming she was a member of the opera company in some way. Dropping her off in the dormitories could suffice but he liked the spectacle of leaving her on the stage for someone to find later in the morning. That was if she survived long enough to be discovered.

The gondola curled up the gravel banks of the lake. Checking her heartbeat again he felt it growing weaker. He leaned in close to her, his head hovering above her chest as he listened intently for any signs of breath. Just as with her pulse, her breathing was almost inaudible. Solemnly he moved his featherweight touch from her neck to her head. His fingers laced through her hair searching for any signs of injury. After finding nothing to indicate any damage he turned his attention to her face. She was still unconscious and looked rather plain.

Her complexion was fair enough, though, at the moment she looked disturbingly pale. Her hair was dark brown and fell past her elbows. Her mouth was mismatched with a thin upper lip and a full lower. Her bone structure was average with no prominent features in her cheeks, nose, or jawline. He cupped the side of her face, so gently as if she were to crack at any moment and looked at her still closed eyes. Delicately he lifted one lid open, it was dull and unfocused. He opened the other and felt once more for a pulse, he sensed none. With silent regret, his hands fell away as he sat back on the bench. He mulled over what could have caused her death and how she could have ended up in his lake unannounced.

With a sigh, he grabbed the broom and bag to bring into his house. He tied the gondola to its post and carried the peculiar things inside to inspect before taking her body upstairs. There seemed to be nothing of great intrigue regarding the broom, aside from its rigidly warped build and inability to sweep properly. Two pegs were sticking out of it on either side that appeared to be a type of self-holding stand. The small bag wrapped around its handle did interest him and he proceeded to spill the contents onto his drawing-room table. Only, nothing fell out of the bag, and when he reached his hand in to check he was shocked to find his whole arm would fit inside. There was a multitude of things in that bag of impossible size.

His fingers brushed over something wooden and narrow, he pulled out a stick with ornate details carved into it. It was longer than his forearm and caused his mind to spin with how it could be done to trick concealment of a long stick in a bag that was a fraction of its length. He looked over it in great interest and could not find anything pointing to it being bendable or otherwise collapsible to break down in size. Not to mention any of the other objects he felt that were of various sizes.

Resigning to properly examine his newfound discoveries later he stowed away the broom, bag, and stick. Leaving his house for a second time that night he locked the door behind him and very nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight before him. Had he been anyone but himself he would have surely flinched and maybe even screamed.

The girl was standing on the shore, facing the lake. He did not hear her stir and returned to the land of the living, though with him 'living' may have been better exchanged for the dead. He was certain that he had felt her heartbeat fade away into nothing and her last breath a mere wisp of mist. Yet, there she was standing before him.

"What part of the castle is this?" She asked, her voice unexpectedly calm.

"My dear this is an opera house, not a castle."

She turned to face him. "You're lying..." She spoke with obvious hesitation.

"I may be many foul things but a liar is not one of them."

"Well where are we then, and who are you?" Her northern English accent became more apparent.

"We are beneath the Palais Garnier," he began to inform her, watching closely as her expression grew more concerned. "I am known by many names and it would seem your fellow ballet brats have failed to enlighten you with tales of the most exaggerated kind regarding me."

"I'm not in any ballet." She said, her brows furring together. He was already suspecting a great many things about her identity if this was not some lavish dream of his sleep-deprived mind. "The Paris Opera House?" She asked, having trouble believing him.

"Yes, that one." He confirmed. Her face fell and he wished to hear her thoughts at that apparent revelation. "Now, will you tell me who you are and why you have entered my domain?"

"I don't know how I got here…" she replied trailing off. He had yet to see anyone lose their senses in this way. The manner of her addled state was wearing thin on his patience. She appeared to be undisturbed by his masked presence.

"What is your name?" He asked, putting all of his talents of persuasion into his voice.

"My name is-" She cut herself off, she opened her mouth again as if to speak but resisted his honeyed tones.

"Go on."

She turned wary now, her guard had come up and maybe it was something in his yellow eyes, or perhaps as she became more aware a veil was removed on her observations of his unnatural being.

"Is this some kind of test?" She spoke with a hint of dread.

"More so for me than it is for you, as you have yet to truthfully answer any of my questions."

"I'm not lying to you!" She insisted. "I don't know what happened before I woke up on this boat."

"This is a poor attempt of yours to convince me otherwise." His voice turned cold. "Tell me, are you here to murder me? You should know that many have tried over the years and I don't see why you would be successful when all others have failed." He finished darkly, dripping with sardonicism.

"Why would anyone want to kill you?" She asked softly.

With unexpected glee, he let out a high hair-raising laugh. He was beside himself cackling at the betrayal of her innocence. He knew she was no assassin for she had no means to kill him aside from her bare hands which could never hope to outmatch his own.

She was unnerved by his outburst and desperately wished to wake from this ensuing daze. Her thoughts ran rampant with the possibility of having accidentally consumed a potion of sorts that had culminated in this budding nightmare. She refused to believe what he had told her.

"You must forgive me for it has been so very long since I have heard such humorous words."

She said nothing. His insanity was worrying her about what he was capable of. Feeling afraid of the unknown she reached for her wand… but it was not in her robe's pocket. Alarm rushed through her, spurred on by his seemingly all-knowing gaze as if he could hear her crying out in despair of having lost it.

"Where is my wand?" She demanded, not caring who this man was.

"Ah, that magic word! If you refer to that gaudy stick then it is properly hidden away, along with other curious items."

"Give me back my things! My wand, you can't use it, it won't work for you, just return-"

"That funny little bag of yours works wondrously for me." He interjected, reveling in her flailings. "What trick do you use to give the illusion of being larger on the inside?"

"Please," she begged. "Please give them back to me."

"Interesting, you seem to have forgotten a certain broomstick that looks poorly adept for sweeping."

She froze and said nothing.

"You know, you could still be burned for having something like that."

She remained silent, her fists were balled in rage and her face was hard pressed to not react further. Overwhelming feelings of gloom and danger washed over her. His efforts to rattle her had worked in his favor and she was not skilled enough with wandless magic to do anything to him. His threat nearly made her tremble and it took all of her remaining resolve not to.

"Now," he started to carefully walk towards her. "Why don't you come with me inside where you can tell me all about these magical possessions of yours." He reached out to grab her arm and with a cracking sound she was gone. The noise reverberated over the cavern as he stared at her absentee space, tremendously impressed. Faster than he could react she had completely disappeared from before him. So, there was something special about her after all!

With a wicked grin, he turned on his heels to enter his house in search of paper and ink. He would not let her escape with all that knowledge concealed from him. He had once been referred to, among other things, as the prince of conjurers but she was unlike anything he had ever seen.

Hastily he whipped out his quill and began scratching away his grand design. He wrote details for a pact he schemed for her to enter into with him. As of the last several years, he had been preoccupied with composing his opera and planned to sleep forever after it was complete but now he was all too interested in the higher mysteries of the world. In due time he would finish his magnum opus, though along the way he sought to squeeze every last drop of knowledge from her.

He was not concerned with her sudden departure for he knew the items in his possession were too precious for her to leave for good. People had such interesting weaknesses. He hid her broomstick and bag away so that only he could retrieve them, though he imagined that with magic one could do anything. Magic was real! He could scarcely believe it was true and yet there was no other way to describe her actions. He relished in the sensation of having her at his disposal to show him how to wield this force to be used for his every whim and wish.

Upon finishing his contract he capped his ink jar and placed it in his coat beside the feather quill. Taking one last glance over his writing he blew on the parchment to be certain it was dry before rolling it up. He slid her wand up his sleeve for safekeeping. Before leaving he put on a pair of gloves and his brimmed hat.

Letting his mind wander he considered all the places she could have disappeared to. He settled on the rooftops, deducing that she would not believe they were truly in a foreign land to her without seeing it for herself. She seemed to know something about Paris in recognizing the opera house's alternative name. He expected that she would try to remain alone and sort out the situation on her own rather than running rampant in the streets for the nearest sign of life. She seemed to have some wits about her and would notice the late evening hour. Not to mention, most of everyone would be blissfully asleep tonight anyways.

He set out for the roof with an unusual jaunt in his step. He had not felt this energized in years. The prospect of this magical prize had elevated him from his recent boredom slump of dealing with the opera house managers. In his ascent to the highest point of the building, he pondered over why she would come here, to begin with. It must be a gift of the season to have an opportunity such as this in his grasp.

Slipping through his numerous secret passageways he emerged out into the cold night air amidst the Parisian skyline. Fresh snow had fallen and snowflakes continued to drift in the air. Off in the distance, to the southwest, the Eiffel Tower stood as a tall beacon in the dark. Around the opera house, various buildings glowed in the gentle flickering light. He did not have far to look before spotting her lying in a heap of snow.

Quietly he made his way down from near Apollo's Lyre to where she was. As his approach drew near he heard faint noises emanating from her and realized she was crying. He also smelled something sour and noticed a nearby puddle of wretchedness. For a moment he paused, pitying her in that sorry state. To somewhat respectfully alert her to his presence he made no effort to soften his remaining steps.

Hearing the snow crunch underfoot she managed to stand but she looked more unsteady than she had been in his lair. She stood near the edge of the rooftop and for the first time looked down at the street and noticed holly and evergreen decorations. Her hair and robe were littered with snowflakes. She said nothing to him, though he could see she was troubled with reddened eyes and a sniffling nose.

"Will you tell me what you are called now?" He asked mildly.

"Lindsey Durham." She said dejectedly. The light snowfall was growing.

"Splendid mademoiselle," he said, trying to allure her. "I have a contract here for us."

Slowly he retrieved the paper from his breast pocket and outstretched his hand to her. Her glistening eyes looked down at his offer. When she reached out to touch the parchment it floated loose from his glove to hover in the air. It unfurled itself, displaying the red ink.

"In short, Miss Durham, I seek for you to enter my service for as long as I deem necessary to utilize your abilities. Henceforth, you will be bound to me completely and wholly without fault to carry out any task I might ask of you. Upon entering this deal you will not seek out any means to bring me to harm or undermine my instructions in any capacity. Furthermore, you will not partake in anything relating to an attempt to break this agreement. If you do any of these prohibited actions or try to flee from my commands I will detonate the explosives hidden around the opera house. In return for your faithful obedience, I will provide you with suitable accommodations here within the opera house and I will save you from certain death by not revealing your true nature to anyone."

"And what is my true nature?" Lindsey sounded hollow, reading over his many detailed words.

"You are a magic user, a magician, a sorceress, a witch, or whatever other titles."

Snowflakes swirled around them. He pulled out his feather quill and ink jar for her. She took the quill, resigning to his will. With a rough swallow, she dipped into the scarlet well. Spinning the quill between her fingers she hesitantly looked at him.

"What day is it?" A plain question she asked him, and their eyes met.

"It is the 24th of December." He answered. It was almost midnight.

"Year?"

He almost scoffed at her, thinking she sought to stall him. "1880."

She stifled a cry and closed her eyes as another tear spilled out onto her stained face. Her hand shook slightly over the contract.

"Is there a problem?" He questioned her hesitation.

"I am not from this century."

Before he could ask what she meant exactly by that Lindsey signed her name and date, agreeing to his terms. Greed flooded through him, and finally, he would learn the greatest forms of illusion. He imagined a great many ways to use magic to heighten his skills and-

A nearby clock chimed out the new hour and with it came heavier snowfall.

"Come." He instructed her, gesturing to where he had entered from. "I will show you to your room for the evening, lest you freeze out here in this wasteland."

"Is it back down by the lake?" She asked.

"Yes." That was all he managed to say before she took his arm and suddenly he felt like he was being pulled through a pipe. His vision went black and he feared that she had unleashed horrors on him. Just as quickly as it started it was over. His shoes landed on the familiar ground standing outside his front door. He braced his arm against it to steady himself. The weight was lifted from his body and he began to breathe again. She stood beside him as if nothing had happened.

"What was that?" He demanded of her.

"Apparition," she started explaining. "One of the forms of transportation where we appeared here instantly without traversing any of the space in-between."

"Next time, warn me." His insides were churning from the experience. "Better yet, alert me before you do any magic."

"As you wish." Lindsey's face was dry now but she still looked pale.

She followed him inside to the drawing room and was taken back to see such opulent furniture and decorum. There was a grand piano, a harp, a couch, chairs, a coffee table, rugs, and a wide assortment of candles. It was quite the sophisticated abode for its dungeon-like location.

He led her past a dining table and into a marble-floored hallway. In a fluid motion, he grabbed one of the smaller candelabras. They walked by one dimly lit room before arriving at a second. Lindsey wondered how many rooms there were and why he would need them. From his dress clothes and cape, she had first thought he was a wizard, though he seemed to not recognize magic and thus would be unlikely to know Hogwarts or Beauxbatons.

"You will stay here for now," he detailed to her. "Once the company has returned from the holiday break I will move you upstairs to the ladies' dormitories." He placed the candle holder on the table.

This little room was simply furnished by comparison. There was a wooden bedstead, a sofa, and a large dresser among other things. Off in the far wall, she noticed another door, peering inside further it led to a modest bathroom. Lindsey turned back to face him and hoped when she woke she would remember this dream. Her wild creativeness was unexpected to this degree of lucid detail. He watched her look about the bedroom.

"Earlier, you said you were known by 'many names', what should I refer to you as?"

"You may call me Erik."

"Do I get to keep my wand now?" Lindsey asked as she brandished her wand from her robe sleeve. His lip curled at her deception. As soon as she spoke he realized the stick was no longer tucked away on him and that she must have retaken it when they went through the magic portal down here.

She muttered something unintelligible to him and from her wand tip sprouted tiny flames that fanned around the room to all the unlit candles. Bathed in the soft light she had a slightly smug expression. His eyes narrowed in irritation and he had half a mind to drop her back in the lake. The price of her magical madness would be his patience.

Seeking to enthrall him she cast another spell and this time the flames poured into her outstretched hand. She was holding fire, soft crackling fire, in her bare hand. The shivering light raised many questions in his head. He wanted to know if it was warm yet unburning if it would grow like normal fires if it would last forever, and how long would it take to learn this spell of hers along with all her other secrets.

Her hand was held out to him as if she meant for him to take the flame. He stepped closer to her with his eyes fixated on the magic. He reached out gingerly, some small part of him concerned with singeing part of his gloves.

Quick as a snake his hands lashed out, one grabbed her fiery wrist and the other closed around her wand in hand.

"I thought I told you to warn me before doing any magic, girl." He leered at her. The fleeting delight she may have felt was gone now and the fire faded away into nothing. He ripped the wand away from her hand and turned to lock her in the room. Leaving her behind in a daze he planned to check in on her in the morning.

"If I am allowed my wand I can heal your facial wounds."

Her voice was soft, with a hint of trepidation. She had not moved from her previous conjuration. He twisted to face her, slowly, hardly daring to believe the words spoken. He stalked towards her. She was unflinching. He stopped directly in front of her with no room for light between them, glaring down at her.

"And what is so wrong with my face that begets your need of fixing?" He asked harshly, fueled by mocking naivety.

"Why else would you wear such a mask?" She spat back. "You can't be that stupid in concealing your identity to only cover half of your face so there must be something wrong with the other side. Besides, it's apparently Christmas Day and you are down here all alone so you must not have any family or friends or anyone who cares about-"

He silenced her by seizing her shoulders. Gripping her tightly he regained a hold of his anger. Hearing her speak touched a nerve and he would not listen to it from anyone. Usually, he was not bothered with things like this, for some reason she had gotten under his skin. He would not let her see how accurate her assumptions were, not now, not ever. He needed her magic and would see it through to completion. After that, he could always drop her off at the asylum for scrambled minds and be done with it.

"In the future, I trust you will not mention my face again, for if you do I will break this wand of yours in half and burn the pieces." With a forceful shake, he released her and walked towards the door. She said nothing in return and watched him leave. Just before closing the door, he threw his voice out to sound just behind her:

"You forget I am not alone, you are down here with me too."

He locked it behind him and headed back for the drawing room. Leaving her to waste away the remaining hours of the night he cared not if she cried herself to sleep. He did not trust her and she was far too emboldened for his liking. The reality of her situation would dawn soon enough and then they might make some accomplishments. Customarily everyone feared him to varying extents, just mere suggestions of his presence sent the opera house into a panicked frenzy, never mind actual glimpses.

In his frustrations, he unburdened himself by playing away on the piano. After a few hours, he grew tired and retired to his room. He paused outside her door and listened intently, hearing nothing. Hoping she had gone to sleep he entered his room to at last collapse in an exhaustive slump.

[backtobasicsnow]

Soon the skiing season is starting up again at this beautiful mountain! Stowe Vermont inspired me to create a few different home decor items for skiing enthusiasts ⛷❄️⛷❄️⛷#stowemountainresort #stowevermont #vermont #skiing #stowe #skidecor #skihomedecor #decorating #skilodge #skistyle #apresski #snow #winterdecor #skihouse #gondola #skilift #skitheeast #skistuff #instamood #instadecor #instasnow #instaski @skistuff_homedecor https://www.instagram.com/p/B4R-Dr3Flus/?igshid=pt7txqiq6py7

[jandeproductions]

Stowe, VT 22APR2023

Looking up at the snow on Gondolier at the start of today’s ski tour at Stowe Based on the forecast, today seemed like the better half of the weekend for turns, so I decided to head to Mt. Mansfield and make use of all the snow that’s still out there.  A look at the Stowe Mountain Cam this morning showed that coverage still looked continuous on the Gondola side of the resort, and since that area…

[listentothelittlebird]

I was looking through some drafts and I found this - I think it’s my first attempt at writing Burning Iceberg. Here, Damian tagged along with Jason when he went off for training!

Word Count: 2942 words 

enjoy!

It’s Talia who sends him away.

“Training,” she says, but there is something in the way that she moves, the way that the base is silent and waiting with bated breath right up until they leave. 

Jason leaves alone. Talia watches him go, her posture too unnaturally relaxed for anything not to be amiss. 

He gets one day away from the base before he realises he has a tail.

“Damian?” 

The young boy scuffles out of the shadows with a haughty sniff. “Took you long enough to notice me, Todd,” he huffs. Given the boy’s night clothing - the one’s he wore to sleep - Jason guessed that he had just arrived.

“Why’re you here?” Jason asks, curious. Sure, he had talked to the kid, had trained with the kid, but why was he here?

Damian glanced at Jason, then glanced away. “You were going alone,” he declared stiffly, “I would think that you would prefer company.”

“Mother agreed, and sent me after you,” Damian added, not at all convincing. Talia would never allow Damian out of her sights, especially with the tension in the air back at the base. Something was definitely up, but Jason let it slide and gestured for Damian to come closer. “You hungry, kid? I’ve got enough food for both of us until the next village.”

He knows that Talia might come after him. There’s no way he would let Damian disappear, just like that. For the moment, however, Jason could care less.

He had never asked for a big brother, and he had never asked for a little brother, but he was definitely willing to risk his life for the eight-year-old beside him. 

-

“Where are we going?” Damian asks, quietly. They’re stowed away on a cargo ship headed for the South Pole.

“I want to find a bender,” Jason replies, “The North pole is more connected to the world, and there’s more people to worry about. I’d think that a bender would hide in the South, where there’s less people.”

Damian scrunched up his nose. “Your skills are not adequate to face a bender, Todd.”

Jason pauses, then snorts, “I’m not gonna fight the bender, D. I just want to… talk to them.”

Damian eyes him with a skeptical look, but otherwise says nothing.

-

They’re riding through a brutal storm when Damian loses his grip and tumbles towards the railing.

Jason follows, one hand gripping tightly onto the metal rail and the other holding onto Damian as he flailed. For once, the kid looked genuinely terrified.

A wave crashes into them, and pulls them over. 

-

Jason is surprised to wake up. He tried to gauge his surroundings, but nothing really added up. He was under a fur blanket, a fire crackling near him. Someone was shifting beside him.

“You’re awake,” the voice murmurs, “I thought you’d sleep longer, but it seems not.”

Jason, carefully pulled himself up, narrowing his eyes as he gazed around the igloo. It was sparse, but large enough to fit him, the new man, and-

“Dami,” Jason breathed, headless of the man’s presence as he jerked out of the furs and toward

 his brother’s still form. He pressed two fingers to the boy’s neck, and his heart only calmed when he could feel the steady thrumming for a full minute.

“You’re welcome,” came the dry remark. Right. Jason turned back to the man, assessing him silently. He wore a blue parka, and was currently wearing the hood low over his face. 

“The two of you washed ashore last night,” the man explained, without prompting, “Your friend was barely breathing, but he made it through. You were surprisingly fine once the threat of frostbite was removed.”

Jason glanced again at Damian. 

“Thank you,” Jason stated, before his voice hardened, “But can we trust you?”

The man sighed. “Figures that two kids running around in the Antarctic wouldn’t trust a stranger,” he mused to himself. His amused smile was the only thing that Jason could see, the fire and the shadows obscuring the rest. 

“We are a long distance from the nearest village, but I can take you there. I can send the two of you on your way the moment that your friend feels better.”

-

“You know that you’re safe here, right?” Jason stated quietly. Anuk had left them in the igloo and went hunting by himself. He claimed that he worked better alone.

Damian looked up from where he was curled up in a corner of the igloo, his back pressed tightly against the icy wall. He wrinkled his nose, but there was still apprehension in his eyes. Jason sighed.

“Look, if this guy meant bad, he’d have done something already,” Jason reasoned, spreading his hands along the icy ground. He was glad that his resistance to low temperatures had survived the pit, even if his bending had not.

“Your trust will get you killed,” Damian murmured. Jason winced, “Yeah, well, it kinda already did. But that’s besides the point,” Jason rushed to add, “Just- trust is dangerous, sure, but can you really live your life without trusting anyone?”

Damian was silent. Jason, taking a dive, spoke up, “Do you trust me?”

Damian jerked his head up, staring at him with wide eyes. Then, quietly, “Yes.”

Jason nodded, and pressed, “Talia? Ra’s?”

Damian hesitated. Jason moved on.

“Listen. I know you just wanted to tag along for my training, but we’ve been under the radar for at least a month.” They had arrived on a full moon, and that night was a full moon, again. 

“Even Talia would have to admit to Ra’s that she thought we were dead somewhere in the Antarctic. Firebenders hate the two poles - they won’t be sending a search party for us, much less coming to find us themselves. You don’t have to go back to them.”

This time, Damian glared. “Where else would I go, Todd?” he spat, and Jason realised that the kid had already thought of this, had already considered this, “Where else am I supposed to go, if I do not return to my home?”

Jason pursed his lips, and despite the green raging inside him…

“Bruce would take you in,” Jason admitted, shoving the green away, “I can’t say the same for myself, not when I’m done with him, but… you. You’re his kid. He’d definitely take you in.”

Jason grinned, “He’d love you. Hell, he already took in the Replacement, what’s one more?”

Damian shifted. “Why won’t he take you in?” he questioned.

Jason stilled. “It’s not-” Jason started and stopped, and shook his head. The Joker was still alive. He had adopted a new kid. He wasn’t needed, hell, he wasn’t wanted. He really had just been a charity case. He breathed, trying to push the green down.

“It’s complicated. I don’t know if I can forgive Bruce, and I don’t know if I can stare at him without wanting to put a knife to his neck.”

That was what scared him the most. That he would lose control. He hated Bruce right now, hated him for what he had done, what he had not done, but his nightmare was his vision going green and fading to a Batman bleeding out from a knife in his grip.

Damian looked confused, so Jason tried to explain. “Bruce is… not a perfect man,” Jason sighed, “But he’s all Gotham has. And the Robins - what he does for them, that’s good. Even if-” Even if it gave him false hope for a rescue that never came. He swallowed that down.

“For all of his faults, he did give me some of the best memories.” Not that he remembered many of them. The pit took that away, too. “I hate him, but I loved him, too.”

-

“You’re ready.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at Anuk. “Ready for?”

“The full moon,” Anuk explained, not really explaining at all. He pointed towards the sky. “Tonight should be a full moon. We’ll set out onto the ocean at midnight, and you can perform the traditional water-bending stances for Tui and La. If nothing else, it is a tradition that I practice, and as my student, I want you to practice it as well.”

Jason sighed, but went along with it. He still had no bending - sometimes he thought that the water would move just so, but most of the time, there was nothing. He diligently learnt all of the water-bending moves, but Anuk was probably lying when he said that he was “ready”. How do you tell if someone knows their stuff if they don’t even bend?

-

The night was quiet. Serene, silent in the way that Gotham never was. The League had been silent, too, but not in this way. There was tension in the air, in League bases, sounds controlled and quenched before they could travel. Here, there were only expanses of snow and ice to echo back each scrunch of their boots.

Anuk bended a gondola made of ice, and Jason hopped on, not willing to show his own hesitation. Anuk waved his arms and the gondola moved out onto the calm Antarctic sea.

“According to my Gramps, we used to have big ceremonies on full moons,” Anuk started conversationally, filling the cold silence with soft murmurs. Jason realised belatedly that they should have brought a lamp, or at least a torchlight, but it seemed like Anuk knew where he was going, even in the dim moonlight.

“I live in the South pole, but my Gramps hailed from the North. He says that the late princess Yue gave her life to keep the moon spirit, Tui, alive. The Northern water-benders would present their bending on full moons to pay homage to Yue and her sacrifice.”

The gondola slowed to a stop, and they were left bobbing softly on near-silent waves. Anuk stretched his arms out and pulled, and a square platform of ice froze before them. Anuk stepped back and looked towards Jason expectantly.

Jason had grown used to the icy tundra, enough so that he did not immediately slip off the icy block when he hopped out of the gondola. He took his place at the centre of the ice block, glanced up at the moon, and started to run through his bending forms.

Nothing happened at first. Jason felt kind of stupid, actually, bending without bending at all. He nearly slipped a few times, but he managed to keep his balance, and powered through the basic forms into the more advanced attacks.

Then, something shifted.

“Jason,” the wind whispered, and Jason stumbled. His foot slipped, and he ended up on all four as the ice block rocked, waves pushing over the sides and washing over his hands and knees. The voice sounded like Bruce.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” came again, and it really did sound like Bruce. Jason blinked into the moonlit ice and nearly gasped. 

It was a bird’s-eye view of the Batcave. He would know that cavern anywhere. Batman was stooped down beside a glass casing, positioned at the centre of the cave.

The vision zoomed in. The casing had a blood-stained Robin uniform, burned and tattered, way too destroyed to be repairable. Jason realised it was his suit. The one he had died in. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” Bruce was saying, and Jason could only watch as Bruce absolutely bawled his eyes out in front of the casing, still wearing his batsuit, only having pulled the cowl down.

Just when the sobs died down, Jason heard, “I left Joker in the helicopter. I knew it was going to crash, but I- I thought he didn’t deserve to live,” Bruce admitted quietly. Jason’s breath hitched.

“He survived. Of course he did. If I keep going after him, he’ll just keep surviving, and… I have to stop, before I can’t. Before I lose myself in a world that took you. I’m sorry,” he choked out, and the tears continued to flow.

The scene changed.

“Why?” Dick’s voice screamed, raw and so full of emotion that it jarred Jason to the bones. “Why did you let him live?”

“We can’t be the dictators of who lives and who dies,” Bruce started, but Dick cut him off. “This is the Joker we’re talking about, B!” Dick yelled, somehow louder than the previous shout, “Joker doesn’t care who lives and who dies! He definitely didn’t care when he-” Dick cut himself off with a sharp exhale.

Bruce waited as Dick took measured breaths. “I just don’t get it,” Dick whispered, “A man like him? B, why did you save him?”

Silence. 

“We fight for justice,” Bruce rumbled, steadfast and sure compared to the crying mess in the last vision. Confident, like he had worked through his thoughts and come to a conclusion. “We can’t just kill people as we see fit. Not even if we hold a personal grudge. Not even if we want revenge for our own.” 

They both glanced towards the casing.

“I still want to kill him,” Dick stated bluntly. Jason thought Bruce would reaffirm his rules, that he would cook up a convincing argument and strike down Dick’s motives.

Instead, Bruce only answered with, “Sit on it for a few days. Don’t make an impulsive decision you’ll regret.”

Dick sighed harshly, and left the viewing range of the vision. Bruce turned back to the casing.

“I never got to apologise to you,” Bruce murmured, “For accusing you of pushing Garzonasa.”

“I was worried for you. Nobody should have to live with the guilt of taking someone’s life. I’m sorry if I came off as distrustful. I should have done more. Been better.”

One last scene. A young kid, black hair and blue eyes, looking up at the casing, fiddling with a new Robin suit that Jason had only seen through grainy newspaper prints.

“You were my hero,” the boy said, and checked his empty surroundings before he continued, “You were… awesome. You had so much energy and spunk, and-” he huffed, a small smile on his face, “-much more fire than me. Which is ironic, to say the least.”

Jason watched as the kid produced a photo from his gauntlet. It was a photo of Jason and Nightwing, on the rooftops, laughing and joking around. 

“I always wanted to be your friend,” he admitted, “I never wanted to replace you. I just knew that Batman needed a partner, and I guess nobody else was gonna do it, so. Here I am.”

The photo slipped back under his cape. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be like you, but I’m trying. I… I know I shouldn’t miss you, because technically I never knew you, but. I do.”

Timothy Drake looked up at the suit for a long minute, before turning and pressing his domino mask across his eyes. “I’ll do my best to make you proud,” he whispered to the air.

The vision disappeared with the pull of the tide. Jason was suddenly aware of the ice block he was still on, as it tipped against the slightly-larger wave. A combination of water and ice made him slide right off the block’s edge. 

Anuk’s yell was drowned out by the freezing water rushing to meet him. It was the very opposite of being dipped into the Lazarus pit. The water was a dark blue, and he could still see the moonlight piercing through the water’s surface. The light bent above him, and he blinked, because it almost looked like a face. A young woman, with long white hair flowing around her serene smile.

The light pulsed, and suddenly he could feel the water around him, moving and flowing, pulsating with its own energy. He could feel the water turning and churning around Anuk’s gondola as he steered towards him. He spread out his arms and pushed-

-and shot out of the water, landing with a slight stumble back on Anuk’s gondola. The boat rocked slightly, but Jason smoothed his palms downwards and the rippling waves ceased.

 “Tui and La,” Anuk cursed to himself, “You were under there for quite a- oh.”

Jason tilted his head. “Oh?” he prompted, still reeling from how alive he felt. He was surrounded by his element, and he almost wanted to dive back under just to soak in his renewed bending.

Anuk produced an ice mirror, angling it to catch the moonlight. It was hard to make out, but there was definitely a patch of hair that was no longer black, dangling right in front of his eyes.

His eyes were blue, like the colour he was born with.

“Yue’s blessing,” Anuk breathed. “What?” Jason questioned, looking up from where he was scrutinising his new hairstyle. Anuk had his head tilted reverently towards the moon.

“Princess Yue lived because Tui gave her life,” Anuk recounted, “Her hair was a stark white because of this. When Tui’s mortal form was killed, Yue gave back her lifeforce to revive Tui.” Anuk chuckled, “It’s why most people from the poles don’t bother dyeing their hair.”

Jason himself eyed the moon contemplatively. He closed his eyes, and realised with a start that the green was gone. The pit’s effects - the murderous rage, the unnaturally-green eyes, the blockage of his bending - they were gone.

Anuk had taught him a traditional bow used to start and end water-bending fights, a sign of respect for the opponent. Jason bowed towards the moon, and hoped he was doing it right.

“Thank you,” he breathed quietly, “Yue, Tui, whatever you prefer to be called. Thank you.”

The moon shone on the ocean, and he swore he could see Yue’s face once more, smiling.

[alexthegamingboy]

Toonami Weekly Recap 02/19/2022

Attack on Titan: The Final Season (War for Paradis Arc) EP#18 (77) - Sneak Attack: The freed Survey Corps eventually decide to help Eren, though Mikasa expresses her doubts about Eren's motives. Meanwhile, the vicious battle of Eren against Reiner and Porco continues, with Eren slowly gaining the upper hand. Suddenly, Zeke arrives as the Beast Titan on top of Wall Maria and begins to attack the Marleyan airships, soldiers, and warriors. The Survey Corps force the Jaegerists to free the jailed members of the Military Police and Garrison Regiment, including Commander Pyxis who offers to lead a group of soldiers who have drunk the wine tainted with Zeke's blood to fend off the invaders. Nile reunites Falco with Gabi and Colt, and together they race to stop Zeke from screaming and turning Falco and the tainted soldiers into titans. Pieck fakes the death of the Cart Titan enabling Magath to fire a shot at the Beast Titan's nape with the anti-Titan cannon, gravely wounding Zeke and causing him to fall from the wall into the city. As Eren limps towards the fallen Beast Titan, Reiner rushes to stop Eren from coming into contact with Zeke.

Shenmue The Animation EP#03 - Yin-Yang:  Thanks to the pottery shop owner, Ryo finally deciphers the letter that was addressed to his father. The letter states to seek help from a man named Master Chen. After calling him on the phone and arriving at the town harbor warehouse district, Ryo is sacked by Chen men and secretly taken to their warehouse, where he learns more about the man who killed his father, Lan Di, who is revealed a high-ranking member of the Chinese mafia called the Chi You Men. Ryo learns that Lan Di is after two mirrors, and has already taken the dragon mirror. Ryo and the Chen conclude that his father must have been hiding the phoenix mirror elsewhere. Back at home, Ine notes that Iwao visited an antique dealer days before he died to give him something. Ryo visits the dealer store and learns the item that his father left was the family crest. Days later in a practice session, Fuku mentions two odd slots in the dojo that have been covered by scrolls. Ryo figures out the slots are for the family crest and sword, and is able to unlock a secret room that was hiding the phoenix mirror. At the warehouse, Ryo shows the mirror to Master Chen and Guizhang and learns more about the history of the mirrors that'll resurrect a being known as Chi You. Out of nowhere, Chai, who attacked Ryo at the dojo, ambushes them and manages to steal the mirror, but is unable to escape with it due to quick thinking from Master Chen. Master Chen believes the man to be a member of either the Chi You Men or Mad Angels. Ryo asks if he can locate Lan Di through the Mad Angels. Wanting to know where Lan Di would go next, Master Chen answers Hong Kong, with Ryo announcing his intention to follow him there.

Made in Abyss (Seeker Camp Arc) EP#06 - Seeker Camp: Ozen releases Reg's extendable arms and lowers a gondola, allowing Riko and Reg inside the Seeker Camp. After finally meeting Ozen and her apprentice Marulk, Riko thanks Ozen for carrying her to the surface long ago, though Ozen amusingly points out that she had considered abandoning Riko many times. Ozen lends Blue Whistles to Riko and Reg in exchange for Lyza's White Whistle. Riko and Reg quickly befriend Marulk, who became a Blue Whistle at a young age due to being a direct apprentice of Ozen. After Riko is fascinated by old relics stowed away, Marulk wishes that Riko and Reg can stay a bit longer so they can delve together. However, Riko reluctantly declines since her mission is to find Lyza at the bottom of the Abyss. That night, Riko encounters a strange creature while looking for the bathroom, having to flee back to her bedroom. The next morning, Ozen takes Riko and Reg to her private chamber. Along the way, Ozen says that Lyza is dead, since she recovered the letter from a grave in the fourth layer, also claiming that the note was not handwritten by Lyza. Once inside the chamber, Riko sees the Curse-Repelling Vessel.

Assassination Classroom Season 2 EP#09 (31) - Round Two Time: As the students of Class 3-E are in the process of deciding on their future careers, Nagisa believes that he should become a professional assassin, but Koro-sensei tells him to give it some more thought. Nagisa comes home to his mother Hiromi Shiota, who urges Nagisa to move out of Class 3-E due to his poor grades and becomes hostile when Nagisa insists on staying in Class 3-E. On the next day, Koro-sensei agrees on Nagisa's behalf to impersonate Karasuma for a parent-teacher meeting with Hiromi, stating to her that Nagisa will not be allowed to leave Class 3-E unless solely desired. Unwilling to take no for an answer, Hiromi later drugs Nagisa when he eats dinner and drives him to the old campus. She tries to have him commit arson to the old campus in order to sever his connections with Class 3-E. However, they are interrupted by a whip-wielding hitman who is targeting Koro-sensei. Nagisa uses his assassination skills to take down the hitman and protect his mother. Choosing to pursue a different career, Nagisa decides to work hard to support Hiromi, who lets him stay in Class 3-E.

Cowboy Bebop EP#15 - My Funny Valentine: Faye meets an important man from her past, and the source of her massive debt is revealed.

Slightly Damned Page 1040: https://www.sdamned.com/comic/1040

[fandom-necromancer]

Getting lost together

This was prompted by a lovely anon! I hope you enjoy, this one is fluffy XD

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘Nines, that was the last bag, come on! We’re going to be late!’ Gavin closed the trunk of his car and looked over to where Nines was standing right between the house and the car. ‘Tina will look after the cats alright, she loves the little beasts, don’t worry’, he tried to comfort him, opening the car door and leaning against it. ‘We’ll come back, and they are at least a kilo heavier’, he joked. Nines straightened his back, but avoided his eyes as he walked towards the car. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’, the Detective asked softly. ‘I thought you looked forward to this.’ ‘I do!’, Nines quickly replied. ‘It’s just my first time leaving Detroit. I… I’m not sure what awaits me.’ ‘That’s what travelling is about’, Gavin explained and stepped past the door to take his hand. ‘Don’t worry. You will love it.’ ‘I hope so’, he mumbled far too insecure for a war machine and entered the car.

Gavin sat down too, leaning over to press a kiss to Nines’ cheek and start the engine afterwards. ‘Come on. Let’s go on a road trip!’ He handed Nines a case full of music CDs and gestured him to choose one. ‘Passenger decides the music’, he explained and started pulling out of their driveway. The android frowned at the disks, contemplating whether he should tell Gavin he could always just connect to the car and play whatever song he wanted. But he guessed this was part of the experience, so he pulled out one of them without researching band names or titles written on it. ‘Excellent choice’, Gavin cheered as the first heavy guitar riffs came up. Nines couldn’t really say something to that as he had no idea what else he could have picked, but seeing Gavin grin and drum his fingers on the steering wheel he found he didn’t really care if it made his human happy.

They drove through the streets and Nines traced their route with his GPS. He got increasingly worried as they made it onto the highway and finally left Detroit. ‘All good, love?’, Gavin asked, seeing the red flashing LED. ‘Yes, just… I lost connection to an android network.’ ‘That means?’, the man asked concerned. ‘My scans won’t be as effective anymore as I can only detect what I see. I can’t supplement it with information from the internet or databanks.’ ‘Should we turn around?’ Nines thought about it. It was their first vacation since the revolution as work had kept them busy with anti-android crimes, retaliations and the rising Red-Ice trades. He had looked forwards to it and still did. He would spend time with his human somewhere neither of them had been before, just the two of them. What about that wasn’t exciting? ‘No. It’s just weird loosing a function you never paid much attention to.’ ‘I can imagine’, Gavin hummed, unsure what to say. ‘I guess that at least makes us equal?’, Nines contemplated. ‘Neither of us knows Providence. It’s a new place for you and I have no way of acquiring more information than you could.’ ‘Heh, a full-on human experience, then?’ ‘You could say so.’

They drove down the road and the longer they were on their way, the less worried Nines became. If anything, partially loosing his scanning abilities made it even more interesting. He simply couldn’t know some things and others passed too fast to get even a little bit of information. ‘How do you live like this?’, Nines couldn’t help but ask as he could see buildings to his right that might have belonged to a town called Sweaburg, but could as well be something entirely else. ‘How do you live, seeing things and having no idea what something is?’ Gavin laughed. ‘Learning to ignore what isn’t important, I guess? I mean, do I have to know everything to survive. And it can make it all the more interesting if you do find out someday. You can always learn something new, even if you lived your whole life in just one city.’ Nines frowned and tried to understand. ‘I mean, isn’t it boring knowing everything? What about curiosity and the joy of discovery?’ The android had to nod to that. ‘That’s why I like our work this much. And I’m starting to like this new perspective, too.’

He found himself smiling as he watched the world pass by, details appearing and disappearing before his programs could even try to gather information. He had become a passive onlooker and it was a weirdly relaxing experience when at the same time his eyes darted from one fixing point to the next trying to take in everything at once. Gavin found he had a difficult time concentrating on the road when Nines sat in the passenger seat almost pressing his nose to the glass like a school child on their first but ride. Sometimes he wished he could take photos like the android could, just to remember this sight forever.

They had to stop for gas soon and Nines took over for the rest of the ten-hour ride. Gavin, understandably exhausted, had tried to stay awake, but when they were an hour away from their destination, he was peacefully sleeping leaned against the door. Only as Nines left the highway and had to stop at a red light, the man woke up again. ‘Oh, we’re already there?’, he asked and sat up. ‘Sorry, I’m just really tired.’ ‘Our hotel is just down the road. Then you can sleep properly.’ ‘Nah, I planned to go take a look at the city first!’ ‘Gavin, I doubt we will get anything else done. And it’s supposed to be a vacation.’ ‘Okay, I’ll take a short nap then and afterwards we go for a walk in the evening, but that’s the only compromise I’m willing to accept.’ Nines sighed. ‘Fine.’

They checked in to their hotel and went to their room to stow away their luggage. Gavin’s nap ended up being longer than expected and with an amused huff, Nines slipped under the blanket too to join his human in this unknown place.

-

Maybe it had been the night spent in stasis, but when Nines rose to see Gavin in the light of the rising sun in this foreign room, he could barely contain the happiness that he felt. No deadline, no case that had to be solved, no clear mission to follow. Just himself and Gavin in a city neither of them knew; time reset to a new schedule counting down the days of their vacation. It was almost… liberating.

He snuggled closer to Gavin and wallowed in his warmth. The human grinned and turned around, still sleepy but slowly waking up. ‘Morning, Nines.’ ‘Morning darling.’ Gavin buried his head in his shoulder. ‘Jeez, Nines, if you keep this up I’ll never leave the bed.’ ‘We can do that if you want’, the android murmured, kissing the top of his head. ‘Nah. Let’s get ready for breakfast and then go see the city. I have something special planned for tonight and you can’t research it! It will truly be a surprise.’ ‘I can still do normal research via the internet, Gavin. Just slower.’ ‘Don’t you dare’, Gavin laughed, pointing his finger at his nose, before standing up and getting ready for the day.

After leaving the hotel, they walked through the streets without any real plan in mind. Nines followed Gavin, who seemed to take random turns and stopped at random places. Watching the people around them and the different sorts of buildings, Nines was quickly feeling weirdly at home. In the afternoon they stopped at a park near the river and Gavin got himself something to eat at the many food carts around. They sat down at a bench right at the riverfront and enjoyed the sunny day. ‘This is perfect’, Nines couldn’t help but voice the content he felt at watching the water lazily pass by, a few ducks swimming on it. A few joggers passed them, faces without names for the first time in Nines’ short life. ‘Got over that lack of information?’, Gavin asked, mouth still half full of the hot dog. ‘I’m actually considering shutting off that program completely when not on the job’, he shrugged. ‘You were right it is more interesting to not know and wonder. If I really need to know something, I can always switch it on again.’ ‘Nice. Good to know it’s not too bad for you.’ Nines looked down on Gavin and put his arm around him. ‘It’s never around you.’ ‘Aw you damn romantic android. I would hate you if I didn’t love you.’ ‘Sure.’ Nines looked out over the river and cocked his head. ‘Gavin, what did you wanted to show me?’ ‘In the evening, love. Has to be dark for it. Patience.’

At least time passed quickly with the human around to guide him around town. As the sun set, they returned to a different part of the river. Nines frowned, as he saw several people blocking his view on the water. ‘Gavin, what-‘ ‘Shh, come on, follow me. I looked this up beforehand, there should be a good spot over here.’ Gavin took his hand and pushed through the crowd, not even thinking of apologising. Pulling Nines right to the front, the android was indeed blown-away. In all his preconstructions, he hadn’t expected this: Several bonfires were lit on the water and lit up the walls in soft orange and hot white yellow. Music played and the masses stood and watched as people tended to the fires and gondolas passed through the flames. ‘Gavin, what is this?’, he asked in surprise. ‘They call it Waterfire. A festival that began as art is now celebrated annually. ‘Thought it would be something fun to be part of. Do you like it?’ Nines couldn’t pull his eyes away from the reflections on the water, the thousands of people at the shore and the flickering fires cracking on the surface of the water. The smell of burning wood filled the air and managed to overpower the different smells from the food stands. ‘Gavin, I… I never experienced something similar. Can we… Does this stretch the whole river? Can we see all of it? Can we ride one of the gondolas? I… For how long did they celebrate this? Why-‘ Gavin’s loving smile made him stop, feeling awkward for asking so many questions and letting his excitement overwhelm him. But Gavin only rose to his toes and pulled Nines head down into a kiss. ‘For you? Everything.’

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Imagine Barba visiting you in Vermont...

Picking him up from the airport & grabbing dinner...

Rafael Barba shows up extremely overdressed for Burlington

You warned him. But “dressing down” in NYC at least means a nice button-down and a cashmere sweater

Everyone here is wearing flannel.

Everyone under 40 is a lumberjack hipster and everyone over 40 is Bernie Sanders at Biden’s inauguration.

You drive him down to Montpelier for dinner because people wear suits in the state capitol so he sticks out less.

Taking him home to the Northeast Kingdom...

“Was that a gunshot?!”

“It’s just turkey season, don’t call 911.”

You don’t lock your car or your front door.

It’s hard for him to fall asleep without the background noise of the city.

He’s pretty sure he’s going to be eaten by wolves, even though you reassure him it’s just coyotes in these woods. (Coyotes that have hybridized with wolves but that is neither here nor there)

Waking up to the splendor and peace of nature

Not seeing any neighbors, just blazing orange-and-red trees and fields blanketed with soft fog.

Barba pretends not to be excited to see a deer walking through your yard.

Walking in bare feet through the meadow, because it’s warm this morning

YOU HAVE CHICKENS!

After collecting eggs & bringing them home to scramble, Barba uneasily asks, “Are you sure those are safe to eat?”

“Cariño. Where do you think eggs come from?”

“I know, but don’t they need to be... processed? or?”

“Trust me, farm-fresh eggs are way healthier than the weeks-old eggs you buy at the grocery store. Money-bock guarantee!”

Barba: [blank stare]

You: [grinning]

Barba: [eats his damned eggs]

Fall Aesthetic... 

Picking pumpkins (Barba finds the largest one)

Riding the gondola at Stowe to the top of Mt. Mansfield & watching the world turn from autumn to winter at the snow-covered peak

Holding his hands when they get cold

Stopping for hot cider & cider donuts on the way back

Crisp autumn air that smells of dead leaves which crunch under your footsteps

Snuggling under a blanket in front of the woodstove

Hiking... 

The next day, the weather warms up, so you take Barba for a hike up Mount Hunger

“HOW ARE YOU ON YOUR PHONE?” he pants, exhausted and stumbling over rocks while you nimbly plod along, nose-deep in a trail-maps app. 

Trail opens up into a sheer rock-face. 

You begin scrambling up.

“You said this was an easy hike! Is it called Mount Hunger because I’m going to fall down a crevasse and die of starvation?!”

“Actually it’s because in 1898, an expedition of twenty hikers got lost for three weeks and had to eat each other to survive. It was the Donner Party of New England.”

“Really?”

“No,” you replied. “I have no idea why it’s called that.” 

[attackfish]

Looks like things are heating up in the Avatar Yue AU. Five more headcanons, please.

Continued from: [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], [Link], and [Link].

1. If one good thing came out of Zuko kidnapping Yue, it's that it convinced Arnook to reverse his stance on his daughter learning to bend. Suddenly Pakku has two girl students. Yes, they are each in their own way exceptional, the Avatar and an outsider, but the cracks in the bulwark of Northern custom have begun to show, and even Pakku can't help but acknowledge the reality that it's only a matter of time before Northern girls as well as boys learn non-healing waterbending.

2. Both Yue and Katara are clever, dedicated girls, and they learn rapidly. Part of Katara's dogged persistence, Pakku quickly realizes, is spite at the boys who laugh at her and think she surely can't ever be as good as they are, who think a waterbending girl is a joke. Such boys have a remarkable ability to end up with their feet "accidentally" frozen to the ground. Yue does not do this. She is a princess. She was raised to be poised and gracious in the face of insult. She blinks innocently while Katara causes a little mayhem, and enjoys it, but she doesn't join in.

3. But Yue feels hamstrung. She is learning to waterbend, so that she can defend herself in case a lunatic firebender prince ever breaks in to kidnap her again apparently, but her father still has no idea what to do about the fact that she can bend the other elements, or who will teach her about them. He absolutely will not let her leave to train, and he has no intention whatsoever of ever letting her leave the Northern Water Tribe, to in any way be part of the war, or ending it. she is sixteen now, and an adult under Northern Water Tribe law, but Northern Water Tribe girls are never really adults. they go straight from their father's authority to their husband's. It's becoming ever clearer to her that she is going to have to leave to do her duty as Avatar, and she's going to have to do it in secret.

4. And who does she know who are planning to leave soon? Well. Katara and Sokka, now that they know that the Fire Nation has no idea that there's supposed to be a waterbender at the South Pole, were maybe planning to head home. She can stow away with them if they do it quietly right? And they can take her as far as the Earth Kingdom? Yes? Sokka thinks this is a terrible idea, but it's hard to think of why when she's sitting really close to him and her big blue eyes are staring straight into his.

5. But before that, she has her very first diplomatic appearance, the first such state occasion since the start of the war, when she and her father welcome the rebel Firelord Iroh to the Northern Water Tribe. She wears her finest clothes, her dark hair styled in elaborate braids and tumbles, and she stands stiffly just behind her father, smiling the gentle welcoming smile she has long since perfected. And when the Dragon of the West disembarks from the gondola, he is nothing like she imagined, a short, stout, old man, who smiles back at them, and plays the diplomatic game of polite greetings and flattery right back at them for just long enough before requesting that he see his nephew.

[seilbahntechnik]

Favorite tweet : Built in 1968, the 4 person gondola is a critical piece of Stowe's history. It was the brainchild of Charlie Lord, an employee of the Civilian Conservation Corps hired by Vermont State Forrester Perry Merrill... Sound familiar? #stoweheritage https://t.co/JqOOMTlucS— Stowe Mt Resort (@StoweMtResort) Jul 21, 2021 July 21, 2021 at 11:08PM via Twitter https://twitter.com/StoweMtResort