#Sunken Secrets

[deadzonedenizen]

THE POLLS ARE OPEN! With that, I'd like to start it with a fun little puzzle to keep people occupied!

@lmk-oc-competition

[deadzonedenizen]

"I have no idea how Gibby got so attached to me." Bell shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I really don't know what she sees in me."

//

Fun fact: Other than Bell's gaiter (the blanket baby Bell was found wrapped in, repurposed to be the scarf mask thing around his neck), he was also found with a set of nesting dolls. The gaiter and the dolls are really his only clues on his origins.

Also apparently, google translate thinks Gibby's Chinese name is Brachiosaurus 💀💀💀

Mandarin is whack, y'all

Whack, I say

Anyways if Bell makes it to the uhhh fourth round, I'll draw Gibby in a Brachiosaurus onesie

LMK OC COMPETITION - QotD

Who is the most important person in your life?

[rainworld-ostpolls]

Round 1 | Poll 56

*Sunken Pier plays a slightly different version of the Outer Expanse Threat theme. It sadly isn't on the official OST which I think is a real shame as the Sunken Pier version is fire, so I decided to include it here :) credit to @/Prague Champ on YT for putting the thing together

Listen to: Threat - Sunken Pier | Threat - Outer Expanse

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Academy Ruins (Kitezh, Sunken City) by Eliz Roxs

[bowenoke]

i was gonna make a little guide on how to use just audacity to grab music (vs a cassette tape or a 2 way audio cord, bc of that one post) but I pulled up an old recording i havent sorted through yet and the very first song is something I've a) never heard before and b) cannot fucking find anywhere on the internet. the second song is equally as baffling. the file is named moremusictoaddtoplaylist.aup. i think i got a transmission from a bo in a different universe. i hope i accidentally sent them pebblebrain

[skelelephant]

Wanna start blogging about endless ocean luminous but the truth is fellas it’s kind of a nothing story so far. That’s okay though I’m rlly just here for the fish

[octoooo]

It’s time for me to ramble about my Splatoon characters <3

Gonna be a long post, I can’t stop talking about these squiggly guys

First up is Yuki <3

He’s actually my in-game character and has been since I started playing Splatoon 2 in 2019.

ANYWAY He’s 19, aro/ace and uses he/they pronouns. Proficient with Dualie Squelchers and Heavy Splatling but do Not put a charger in his hands he will let you die (accidentally)

Family was part of the Octarian group forced underground post-Great Turf War. He grew up in Inkopolis Square after escaping. I say his family is “part of” because I’m pretty sure not all of the Octarian race was forced away. Some of them had to have escaped.

Being a pro ink-battler would be cool, he was a pretty decent soldier underground,but back then he battled for survival and recognition. Turf and Ranked made fighting fun. Took the games too seriously at first. He was used to the harsh training underground and knew that either you had what it took or you didn’t. And if he didn’t (aka being discharged from the military) then what else was he to do?

Certainly there were other jobs underground; the food hunters who scavenged the barren lands they lived in, “scientists” and “electricians” who worked in ways to keep their world alive & running despite the circumstances.

(It’s in quotes because,,,,I mean I can’t really say they’re qualified. Their knowledge would be helpful but not equivalent to a scientific or engineering degree up in Inkopolis)

He's a little ashamed to admit that, for quite some time, he harbored hatred for his related species (Inklings). They have everything, took everything from his own people yet still have the nerve to complain and be ungrateful. But he worked through this & doesn’t think like that anymore.

Had a lot of reflecting to do. Often would throw himself into Ranked to forget about it, but that wouldn’t last long. He had to come to terms with the fact that he has nothing on the surface. It’s what his people dreamed of, and he’s not trying to be ungrateful, but it’s not like he had a family, or anywhere to go at first. Technically he had it all in his old underground home; stable income, amicable neighbors, decent reputation due to his military service & status. But up in Inkopolis he has none of that. He lived in the shadows of alleys, no money and no way to get it,

Honestly if Inklings knew of his Octarian military service they would likely only distance more from him.

Speaking of Inklings; they were,,,alright. Some of them couldn’t even tell he was an Octoling from underground until he spoke. Those who could tell showed him nothing but hostility. It doesn’t help much that he didn’t know a lick of modern Inklish.

(The most Inklish he knew was of the old script used 100+ years ago that they teach underground, so he talks like a grandpa)

He spent his early days hiding in alleys watching the locals go about their days. He would always notice the younger Inklings with weapons going to and from the Great Zapfish Tower (we know it’s the battle lobby but that’s what he’d call it) and a weapons shop.

He went to the Battle tower first, but quickly realized you need both a weapon and gear to play (play what though? He had no idea but he’s interested now). After being pointed in the right direction, he was freshly equipped with a splattershot jr, basic gear and ready for turf war.

For a while, he kept losing because he was focused on getting kills, and his teammates did Not like him. It doesn’t help that he can’t understand them either, so when they say to play objective (ink the ground) he doesn’t listen.

It took him some months, a lot of awkward hovering around inkling convos, and a good amount of teammates yelling at him, for him to learn more modern Inklish. When he did, he finally got to read the rules of turf war & gave it another shot. Things got better from there; he earned money for a small apartment, got more weapons, became more social (he still talks like a grandpa most of the time), but he still has that self-reflecting to do.

His first Splatfest was a bit of a disaster? It was Pancakes vs Waffles and he thought there was an absolute correct answer. Making decisions in the military is more cut & dry and each option has consequences so it’s important to pick the right choice. He tried getting people to understand that pancakes were the better choice and that something bad would befall the people who chose waffle (then waffle won and he had to eat his words. He kinda panicked thinking something bad actually would happen)

What drew him to the Splatlands was that people kept asking him if he was from there. The inklings on the surface eventually kinda learn that Octolings live in the Splatlands, but few know that many of them survived underground. When he answers that he’s from the underground they give him a weird look. Eventually he decides to visit the Splatlands and loves it!

It’s an organized mess and there’s a bigger presence of his own culture there compared to Inkopolis Square. It’s a little different but still of the same roots.

-

I also wanna touch on why he’s trans since like,,it wasn’t just a random choice to add spice to his traits. So back when I got Splatoon 2 in early 2019, I played & beat Octo Expansion. I usually used the male character. Something about him just made me go “yaaayayay.” At this point in life, I knew I wasn’t trans but I had recently experimented with chest binding and he/him pronouns, and decided that it wasn’t the right fit for me. Maybe that’s why I used the male model? Maybe not, it’s not important really.

I used that male Octoling kind of as a persona. If I wanted to draw a Splatoon doodle about me and some friends then I would use our in-game characters rather than us irl. Makes sense. But drawing him was kinda,,,odd. I wanted him to be the In-game model but I am a female irl and have a fairly large chest, so I wanted my drawings to reflect that. All I did was slap in a bump for the chest when I drew him, but that was enough for me. And since the character in-game is male, I kept referring to him as such.

Over time (and moving into Splat3) my character became less of me. I drew and imagined him as confident and loud and in all these scenarios I wouldn’t be in. Once I started feeling disconnected from him, I knew something had to change (and I had become more open with online friends, so I had no need to hide behind my character anyway).

I decided to separate entirely(?) from him. While some things that I am (aro/ace) and do (play dualies & heavy splatling) remain as part of him, he is no longer an extension of me. I gave him a backstory, along w/ Redd who I will get into later, and I drew him as the character I wanted him to be rather than who I am.

That was a lot, and I’m not done because now it’s time for:

Redd <3

(I don’t have as many drawings of her </3)

Despite the outfit and outward demeanor, is not outspoken or brave like her cousin. She’s soft spoken & introverted & would probably cry if she were yelled at.

Currently pro-ish ink battler, happened on accident though! She was doing some turf & ranked for fun but in a few matches she ran into her soon to be teammates who wanted to hang w/ her more.

(In my mind there’s like,,pro ink battle leagues. Like how we have NFL, NBA, etc, Sploon world would have professional Ink Battle leagues. The turf/ranked games they play as young squid-kids is similar to playing football or basketball in school. It’s a hobby/interest that could lead you to the big leagues one day. Unless that’s all canon to Splatoon already)

Yuki is like,,,lowkey jealous bc Redd has all this natural skill & doesn’t even want to be a pro battler. Also it’s a little embarrassing and emasculating that he (a well ranked and respected soldier) performs worse than his squishy cousin.

As I said; she’s not even into ink battles. They’re fun and all but doing it long term is not what she has planned. She had a hard time telling her teammates this & struggles to find excuses to skip practice. (Yuki is helping her become more confident & outspoken, but progress is slow).

She’s Interested in making music, and enjoys upbeat jams. She’s inspired by, Deep Cut, ChirpyChips & Squid Squad (“Kraken Up” is her Song)

Her teammates aren’t rude or forceful about their practice, they just don’t know that Redd isn’t all that interested. They'd still be friends & even support her music career.

-

As for her and Yuki’s connected history; Redd was born and raised in the Splatlands. Her family used to live around Inkopolis but when word spread about Octarians fate post-Great Turf War (going underground) they successfully fled to the Splatlands where they’ve been living ever since. They were unsuccessful in bringing the entire family, having to split in order for at least half the family to escape.

It isn’t until Yuki is 19 and visits Splitsville that they meet. I don’t really know how or when or why this next part happens; but they open up to each other & as they talk abt their family they realize that the missing pieces of their own family history is filled in by the other’s story. (Lmao I imagine Yuki talking abt his great grandma like “yea her brother kinda left her for dead.” (he’s bitter about it) & Redd just thinks “hm. Reminds me of my great grandad who felt like he left his sister for dead,,,”

(Specifically Redd’s great grandfather escapes w/ his kids but has to leave his sister behind, who ends up being Yuki’s great grandma. (I think I have these familial titles right?)

Anyway yeehaww Yuki & Redd are distant cousins!

(While their shared backstory serves as a good amount of evidence, they do some further genetic testing to prove it for sure.)

[loveletterworm]

The way the games treat non-octoling octarians in general is so weird to me? I don't think we've seen a single one integrate with the rest of society which feels so... un-splatoon. it feels like a huge oversight that they normally wouldn't let fly

its honestly so weird at this point!! like in prior games sure they're the enemies and even in 2 octolings being in inkopolis just kinda hanging out is like a new and unusual thing for the world. but in splatoon 3 it's been years since that point, and also the splatlands are an entirely different location where it's implied that octolings were way more normal to see around to begin with so it's just like. Where Is The Rest Of Their Species Though. we've seen like the sunken scrolls and the mem cake poems in OE already we know they're people too and have picnics...they should get to hang out with the jellyfish or something...maybe even one of them could be like a store vendor...What's so wrong with that huh...

Really I think it must to some extent be because variants on them are still being used as enemies in single player, and maybe they just think it would be confusing if they were also like just sitting around in the plaza which i sort of get...but then that somehow makes me worry that if they ever did replace the octarian enemies with some other completely different things in a future game then they might just forget they existed entirely since they would have already served their purpose of Goomba Equivalents, and they might not even consider how weird that would be for all non-playable non-human-y-looking octopuses to just suddenly stop existing one day randomly

we got close with Giant Octotrooper Big Man Concept Art at least. at least we get to know that someone thought of them at some point

[themichaelvan]

litcherally me.at the beach

[ha-bakbuk]

Why do people always say "go with the flow"? You will hardly be able to go in the true sense of the word. You're more likely to be swept along by the current. Teared out. Scattered. And don't they say: "Only dead fish swim with the current?" What would it be like to choose your spiritual path in the opposite direction? Against the current? But then how could you not perish in the water? We are not salmon and the path to the original source of life is a long one. What if it's just a thought? A smile? The flap of a butterfly's wings? We cannot know. Let's set off. God will lift us up. For we walk the path and we do not swim it. Therefore, we must be lifted up from the horizontal to the vertical. As it is already written in the book of Job (see below in the footnote!) Then we can walk (or be led) over the large stones in the water that we will be able to step on. One day we will land on the other shore with dry feet.

Warum sagt man denn immer "mit dem Strom schwimmen"? Gehen im eigentlichen Sinne wird man kaum können. Eher wird dich der Strom mitreissen. Ausreissen. Zerstreuen. Und sagt man nicht: Nur tote Fische schwimmen mit dem Strom? Wie wäre es, seinen spirituellen Weg in der umgekehrten Richtung zu wählen? Gegen den Strom? Aber wie soll man dann nicht erst recht im Wasser umkommen? Wir sind keine Lachse und der Weg zur Urquelle des Lebens ins weit. Und wenn es nur ein Gedanke ist? Ein Lächeln? Der Flügelschlag eines Schmetterlings? Wir können es nicht wissen. Brechen wir auf. Gott wird uns aufrichten. Denn wir gehen den Weg und wir schwimmen ihn nicht. Daher müssen wir aus der Horizontalen in die Vertikale aufgerichtet werden. Wie es schon im Buch von Hiob geschrieben steht (siehe unten in der Fussnote!) Dann können wir laufen (oder wir werden geführt) über die großen Steine im Wasser, auf die wir werden treten können. Trockenen Fusses werden wir dereinst am anderen Ufer landen.

This is because the surviving text of Job is given an addition that is included in all the major manuscripts and, after them, in the critical edition. If we read this addition in itself, the most important statement at its beginning was probably written as a brief summary of the Job story: "It is written, that Job "will rise again together with those whom the Lord raises up (17a γέγραπται δὲ αὐτὸν πάλιν ἀναστήσεσθαι µεθ᾽ ὧν ὁ κύριος ἀνίστησιν)." The statement that Job will rise again, read as such a summary, does not yet refer to a post-mortem resurrection Jobs.57 For the verb ἀνιστάναι, "to raise up", has a wide radius. In the Book of Job it can mean "to restore". In this radius, this results for v. 17a: Job's story does not end with his torment. No, he will rise from the plague (ἀνιστάναι in the original meaning), will stand up together with those whom the Lord raises up to life and action.

Source: https://bibliographie.uni-tuebingen.de/xmlui/bitstream/handle/10900/131476/Karrer_167.pdf?sequence=1

***

Denn der überlieferte Hiobtext erhält einen Zusatz, der in alle großen Handschriften und nach ihnen in die kritische Edition eingeht. Lesen wir diesen Zusatz in sich, dürfte die wichtigste Aussage an seinem Anfang als eine kurze Zusammenfassung zur Hiobgeschichte entstanden sein: Es stehe geschrieben, dass Job „wieder aufstehen werde zusammen mit denen, die der Herr aufrichtet (17a γέγραπται δὲ αὐτὸν πάλιν ἀναστήσεσθαι µεθ᾽ ὧν ὁ κύριος ἀνίστησιν).“ Die Angabe, Job werde wieder aufstehen, bezieht sich, als eine solche Zusammenfassung gelesen, noch nicht auf eine postmortale Auferstehung Jobs.57 Denn das Verb ἀνιστάναι, „aufrichten“, hat einen weiten Radius. Im Hiobbuch kann es „wiederherstellen“ bedeuten. In diesem Radius ergibt sich für v. 17a: Jobs Geschichte endet nicht mit seiner Qual. Nein, er wird aus der Plage aufstehen (ἀνιστάναι in der Ausgangsbedeutung), wird sich aufrichten zusammen mit denen, die der Herr zu Leben und Handeln aufrichtet.

Quelle: https://bibliographie.uni-tuebingen.de/xmlui/bitstream/handle/10900/131476/Karrer_167.pdf?sequence=1

[deadzonedenizen]

THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN

RAMBLING ABOUT OCS: GIBBY EDITION

BASIC CONCEPT IDEA:

Before we start with the rambling, we first need to start with the JTTW character she is based on.

According to this article, there are four monkeys of havoc, Wukong and Macaque making up half of them. Horse Monkey will be a ramble for another time. Right now, we're putting our focus on the gibbon.

Lots of space-themes going on with this little guy. When I first read this bit, you know the first character that came into mind?

Now you know the reason behind Gibby's Halloween costume. So anyways, that collector inspiration already gave me a basic idea of what I wanted Gibby to be as a character. Bouncy little kid that has too much power for her own good.

Other inspirations for her character include Mebh from Wolfwalkers, Young Eda from The Owl House, Spinel from Steven Universe, and later on Kingsley from Yaelokre. The first two especially influenced Gibby's hair design, the third tracks with her ability to stretch her arms, and the last with a good chunk of her personality.

DESIGN:

Probably the first thing you'd notice from Gibby design-wise is her giant hair. I've decided to give her that hair to give her a sort of silhouette that resembles a shooting star. With Gibby herself, she is somewhere around two-three lego heads tall. I mean- gibbons are already teeny, and especially the young by default, so of course Gibby's gonna be fun-sized.

With her color palette, I chose colors from the more pastel-y side to emphasize that childlike wonder that's basically associated with her. Fun fact, her hair is a reference to how she was born ;)

Her clothes, I wanted it to look like something you'd find a FFM monkey demon wearing, while still referencing Gibby's former job as the Jade Court's jester by adding what's basically a faded version of the Celestial Realm's signature turquoise and gold, and putting jester-like design bits like the little bells and mismatched colors. I also want the outfit to look like something she made herself.

NOTES FURTHER INTO DEVELOPMENT:

I can't really say too much without spoiling some bits of Ship In A Bottle, so I'll try to avoid anything that borders too close to that. Instead, I'll list each of the details from the JTTW Gibbon's description + how it's applied to Gibby.

'Seize the sun and moon'

Okay, so she can't literally manipulate celestial bodies all over the place. Instead, it's reflected on her flutes. Yes, Bell's flutes are actually hers, and are just meant to serve as Bell's training wheels with his powers. The flutes have a second form that resembles sunwheels (Though it would be appropriate to call the moon flute's wheel form a moonwheel).

Usually only one flute can be used in this form at a time. Which of the flutes can be used in its wheel form depends on whether it's day and night (moonwheel only for night, sunwheel only for day). The only time both can be used in their wheel forms is during an eclipse, or if the flutes are being used by two people. (Something I need to update in Ship In A Bottle 💀)

I haven't designed the wheel forms yet, but the sunwheel has its rays more emphasized, and the moonwheel's appearance depends on the moon's current phase. The sunwheel also resembles a suncatcher, while the moonwheel resembles a dreamcatcher with magpie feathers (for Ship In A Bottle readers, no you can't make oaths with them).

'Shorten a thousand mountains'

Ooooohhh boy, this is one of the more spoilery bits. All I need to say is...there was a reason they had to trap Gibby in the calabash. Gibby's abilities that aren't mentioned anywhere else here fall under this category. That's how you know these are her more...unstable abilities. Thankfully she'd need a good supply of power to source the energy needed for all of that. Otherwise it'd be really...disastrous. An ability I can safely mention without spoilers tho, is her ability to...literally shorten mountains. And by that, I mean cause chunks of land to break off from the ground and remain floating in air. A lot of floating islands can be contributed to her.

'Distinguish the auspicious from the inauspicious'

Or in Gibby terms, her gut feelings. AKA her intuition. There is a small legend about her, where if she appears in your dreams, it's a sign of that dream possibly foretelling a future event. So she's basically an omen, good or bad depending on the dream. Being a dream-hopper, she tends to be more attracted to dreams that likelier to be a sign about the future.

Another small legend basically makes her a wishing star-like figure. If you wish upon a star, you're inviting Gibby to visit your dream (dream, as in your wish in this context).

In the waking world, her gut feelings are a bit weaker. Simply put, the closer that specific event is to happening, the stronger her gut feeling is. For an event that could happen maybe a year into the future, Gibby would only get a slight gut feeling that she could easily just wave off. For an event that's a second from happening, Gibby gets literal vision flashes before they actually happen. This makes her a really good dodger, making her difficult to attack.

'Manipulate planets and stars'

Again she can't just play pinball with celestial bodies whenever she wanted (and believe me, she does). The planet bit is less referenced compared to the star bit (for a reason involving another oc).

Reading this far into my rambling, you already see a lot of star motifs with Gibby. Well another is her ability to manipulate stardust, which can put people to sleep if she's not careful. She generates stardust using her flutes, and the stardust is how she makes clones of herself, and even other people. The stardust can act like pixie dust too. Sprinkle a bit of it on something, and that's how you make that something float (remember the floating islands?). Yes, she can manipulate normal sand too (also a reference to her birth).

Stars and other celestial bodies also make up a good chunk of how she can tell if her gut feelings are a false alarm or not, since the position of celestial bodies can predict someone's d*stiny in Chinese astrology.

Gibby as a celestial primate

Whereas Wukong is the sun and Macaque is the moon, Gibby is the stars. Whereas Wukong is the hero and Macaque is the warrior, Gibby is the jester. I like to think that there's this sort of duality when it comes to pairs of celestial primates.

Wukong represents the unchanging sun, and the fact that it never stops shining. You just can't help but notice him, but even dare to make eye contact, and you might mark yourself as an enemy.

Macaque represents the ever-changing moon, its different phases reflecting in how Macaque is better able to adjust to different situations. You don't always notice him. Sometimes he shines brightly with a dramatic display, and sometimes he's blended with the shadows of the night.

Gibby represents the playful stars. Her head is in the clouds and she's almost always literally floating. She embodies the whimsies of childhood, the curiosity of youth, and the world through the lens of a child.

So you already have a bit of a hint about down-to-earth Mandrill's character, hint hint nudge nudge ;)

[deadzonedenizen]

I actually made a post a while back regarding the color motifs I used on Bell!

But adding to that, there's other design elements I shoved into the guys when I designed him.

For one, the rosy cheeks are kind of inspired from Chara of Undertale, reflecting their questionable morals. You might also notice the inconsistent proportions when it comes to how I draw Bell's hair.

The Doylist reason is because hair is one of the stuff I easily mess up proportion-wise, but the Watsonian reason is because his hair always grows into Rapunzel-lengths whenever he's pacifying a shard.

So he kind of has to cut his hair back to its original size every time. He also doesn't bother dyeing the ends of his hair over and over again, because glamour's more convenient.

Funnily enough, going full brunet without glamour somehow makes it harder for people to recognize him. He's still confused about that too, but Dolly Parton lost at a Dolly Parton lookalike contest.

Speaking of hair, there's actually a bit of a clue on Bell lore hidden in there. Pull his fringe back, and you'll see the same stylized highlight reserved for...certain groups. (Don't mind him in this picture. He made the mistake of falling asleep first in a sleepover, and the M&Ms couldn't let that bottle of hair gel to untouched.)

I'd probably make a separate propaganda post for Bell's clothing specifically, but here's a little fun fact. He cannot go anywhere without pockets to tuck his hands in. It makes him feel weird to just let his arms dangle beside him.

Another fun fact is that although the hoodie he's seen wearing appears consistent, he also just uses glamour to go from wearing his normal get-up, to appearing as if he's wearing the hoodie that the media pretty much associates him with, whenever he has to fight. AKA the caution tape hoodie. If he's already wearing the caution tape hoodie, he does the opposite by using glamour to seem like he's wearing a different hoodie whenever he wanted to blend into the crowd.

To creators:

QotD! Any interesting design features for ya'lls' ocs! (Cool clothing, marks etc?)

Question for the creators today!! ^^

[is-the-post-reliable]

(reposting as I am unable to reblog the original.)

requested by @kodicraft

🔶 Rating: Partially Reliable 🔶

The Devils Hole is home to the endangered Devils Hole Pupfish.

From the National Park Service's page on Devils Hole: 'Devils Hole--a detached unit of Death Valley National Park--is habitat for the only naturally occurring population of the endangered Devils Hole Pupfish (Cyprinodon diabolis).'

The existence of the pupfish does prevent the pumping of groundwater in the area, after a legal battle. I am not sure this would apply to all mining.

From a High Country News article on the pupfish: 'The Cappaert case went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, testing the power of the Antiquities Act and the weight of the new Endangered Species Act. In 1976, the High Court affirmed the federal government’s right to maintain water levels sufficient to support the pupfish, even at the expense of water rights held by nearby ranchers.'

The habitat of this fish is incredibly small. However, it is slightly larger than suggested, as the fish swim at least 20m deep; the rock shelf referenced is the only place where the fish feed and spawn in the wild.

From the same National Park Service page: 'Although pupfish have been found as deep as 66 feet (20 m), the fish forage and spawn exclusively on a shallow rock shelf near the surface, feeding on the algae and diatoms found there.'

It is true that multiple conservation attempts have failed. Previous attempts to breed or crossbreed the fish have not been successful.

From a National Park Foundation article on the pupfish: 'Despite past efforts to create a similar artificial platform for the pupfish, as well as attempts to breed Devils Hole pupfish and hybrids in captivity, this small ledge remains the sole spawning and feeding shelf for the fish.'

I have not been able to find any references to 'assassination attempts'. One individual did threaten to pour pesticide into Devil's Hole, but it seems this was never attemped. If anyone can find anything on this, please let me know, but in the mean time I have to say this claim is unsubstantiated.

From a High Country News article on an incident of tresspassing and the pupfish: 'A Pahrump newspaper editor even threatened to throw the pesticide Rotenone into the sunken cave to “make the pupfish a moot point.”'

The fencing was initially installed after two people drowned, not after an assassination attempt. Later, more fencing and security was installed after three men drunkenly tresspassed and killed a pupfish.

From the same National Park Service page: 'Subsequently, the Hole was fenced after two divers drowned in its water.'

From a High Country News article on the incident of tresspassing : 'Since the incident, Devils Hole has become an even more formidable fortress. The Park Service capped its towering fences with additional barbed wire. The public can only view the sunken cave from a distance now, more than 20 feet above it. And inside the fenced viewing area are even more cameras, motion sensors and “No Trespassing” signs.'

There is a breeding program at Ash Meadows Facility, where scientists have attempted to mimic the natural habitat of the pupfish.

From a National Geographic article on the breeding attempts: 'And when they built the Ash Meadows facility, the scientists tried to create a mirror image of Devil’s Hole, which meant bringing in water, substrate, and algae from the natural environment.'

It is possible that a different research/breeding facility is being referred to, but the Ash Meadows Facility does not seem to have a secret location. In fact, the facility is open to visitors, according to their website.

I wont attempt to fact check whether the cave is haunted, but I can confirm that at least two people drowned and were not recovered from Devils Hole. Whilst the cave is not truly bottomless, the bottom has not yet been found.

From an SFGATE article on Devils Hole: 'When the bottom of Devils Hole is one day found, the skeletons of two brothers-in-law may finally be recovered, fathoms below the frolicking pupfish.'

The breeding program has been more successful in recent years. This may be due to the discovery that diving beetles were eating the eggs and larvae, and the beetle population in the artificial environment being controlled. (This fact was not included in the original post, but I thought it was cool.)

From a National Geographic article on the breeding attempts: 'As Feuerbacher watched the infrared footage, which can visualize objects in the dark, a tiny pupfish larva smaller than a peppercorn flitted into the camera’s frame. This was big news. When a population gets as low as that of the pupfish, every animal—wild or captive, larva or adult—is critical to the species’ survival.

“I was pretty excited to see there was reproduction going on in the tank, and I just watched it for a little bit,” says Feuerbacher, a fish biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. “Then I saw a beetle swim past.”

It began circling the fish, and closing in.

“Then it just dove in and basically tore the fish in half right while I was watching,” says Feuerbacher.

[...]

During the first beetle collection, facility manager Jennifer Gumm says they caught 500 beetles in three hours. And on the very next pupfish egg collection, which is done by leaving out pieces of carpet that the fish like to lay their eggs on, the team retrieved close to 40 pupfish eggs.

Before this, they had been lucky to find four or five pupfish eggs during a refuge collection. Usually, it was zero.'

[amaranthinespirit]

Heyyyy could you please write best friends brother Simon

best friend's brother!simon riley who has taken a secret liking to you makes it not so secret anymore

it was wrong, to like your best friend's brother. it was so wrong, but every stolen glance made your stomach flip, shivers creeping down every vertebrae of your spine whenever you met gazes with those sunken, tired eyes beyond the black balaclava he always wore.

your friend always complained how weird he was for wearing the mask, especially 'round the house. leaned against the kitchen counters with the fabric bunched around his crooked nose where he'd be there sipping water, or eating a bowl of cereal.

he always wore a tight, fitted shirt with loose pants, and you swore he did it on purpose. you couldn't count on two hands the amount of times your eyes traveled across his exposed skin, down to the baggy material of whatever he chose to wear for pants that day—or if you were lucky, he wore jeans.

it wasn't right, you knew that. thirsting over your best friend's brother, but the way his eyes were always trained on you, no matter what, made your panties soak.

how exchanging glances from across the room turned to finding excuses to pass by him, because any proximity was proximity, to being the one to get snacks from the kitchen in hopes he was there. he usually was.

to doing the dishes as he stood and watched, where he used to just add to the pile, now he ushered you aside to wash his own, and whatever was left.

to muttering simple greetings of 'hello's and partings words of 'bye's, or 'see ya.'

to brushing shoulders as you walked past each other in the long house hallways, or grazing arms when you happened to walk next to each other. to his hand nudging against the back of yours, loosely intertwining them when no one else was looking, or around.

to lingering in the kitchen a minute longer to feel the weight of his heavy, rough hands on your barely exposed hips as you reached up in the cupboards to grab whatever it is you were looking for. his warm chest pressing into the back of your head, and back, as he grabbed what you needed with a quick ruffle to your hair after.

to keeping your favorite snacks in the kitchen in anticipation that you were coming over.

to sneaking out of your friends room late in the night to meet in the kitchen, sharing a glass of water and a bowl of fruit that you had cut up as he leaned next to you on the counter, arms crossed against his chest. his gaze was heavy on your face, and the silver moonlight that casted down through the window exposed your flushed face, warm from his attention.

to pulling you into his bedroom whenever you happened to be passing by; the door shutting with a soft click as your back pressed the cold wood. his tired, half-lidded eyes nearly emotionless as he stared down at you, cornering you against his door.

your expression betrayed confusion, widened, doe eyes staring back up at him. he lifted a calloused finger to tilt your head back. he watched your chest rise, lips parting with a sharp, silent inhale as his other fingers raised the mask.

you licked your lips, eyes flickering to look at his chapped, pink flesh that looked so deliciously in reach, the lips you had fantasized about for months kissing every inch of your skin, eating you out so vigorously, you could see stars.

for months, you'd go back to your house with the image of him in your mind, laid on your back with your hands between your thighs and thoughts of him consuming. toying with your clit, imagining his big, rough hand instead of your small, softer and more delicate fingers as his name fell from your lips in a chant, a mantra.

you did this more times than you would like to admit, but he was all consuming. like a drug, you couldn't get enough, couldn't get your fix even if he was right there. you hadn't even had a taste, and yet you were addicted. subconsciously, you knew he felt that way too.

especially as he steps closer, shoulder blades pressed further into the hard surface of the door behind you. your gaze trained on him, as was his on you. the rough finger under your chin traced lightly up your jaw, his eyes transfixed on your features as his gaze danced around your face. he saw the way your eyes would get more and more dilated the more his hand touched you.

he saw the way your eyes were glued to his lips, as if you hadn't see his face countless times. you were starstruck, as if you had seen a famous painting up close, enough to count each stroke from the paintbrush. or a statue, examining the marble that imitated flowy fabrics, carved by an expert hand.

it made his heart flutter, a reassurance that, despite the circumstances, you might be the one. because he looked at you the same way.

his face hovered over yours, so closely you could feel the heat that radiated from his skin, the warmth of his breath as he exhaled, panning across your flushed features. you looked up at him expectedly, swallowing thickly as you were unsure of what to do.

despite all the times you had been alone together, all the times you were stood next to each other, held hands, met gazes, pressed against one another, you had never come face to face as you had in this moment.

you felt nervous, this was wrong. this is wrong, you shouldn't be doing this, and surely, he knew that too. he knew that it probably wasn't the best of his ideas to be going after the girl that hung around his little sister, but he didn't care, he only wanted you.

so when he leaned closer, close enough to feel the rough, chapped skin of his lips ghosting over yours, just merely brushing together. not enough, it wasn't enough to get a taste.

only enough to get a feel, feel the longing, the yearning, the want, the need. all consuming.

this is wrong.

but when his lips pressed yours so tentatively, so gentle and warm, it felt like sparks, fireworks had gone off across your body. suddenly your limbs began to tremble, your heart rate began to spike.

suddenly, in your thoughts, you didn't know how to act, your arms hanging stupidly by your sides before you decided to raise them to his face. your palms pressed against his cheeks, his jaw as you cradled his features, your lips meeting his with a push and pull. it was slow, but more exhilarating than anything you had ever experienced.

it was so wrong, but it felt so right, and that's what made it all the more better. you weren't supposed to be doing it, but if that were true, then why did it feel so good, so right?

when you had pulled away, his lips had chased with a heavy breath, hand lacing into your hair to push your face back against his in a heavy, sensual kiss that fulfilled all his longing. it was an addiction, lying dormant until he finally had you, and now that he did, he wouldn't quit.

a quiet whimper of protest was silenced by his pressing kiss, not allowing you a breath of air because you were his oxygen, so why isn't he yours? (he is though).

but unfortunately, you had both needed to breath, but that didn't stop him from latching his lips onto you somewhere else.

"si...simon, we shouldn't...shouldn't be doing...this..." you had managed between deep, swallowing breaths as you tried to keep your composure, but it was hard with him pressing warm, slow kisses down your neck. occasionally catching your skin between his teeth to leave a mark, his tongue soothing over the flesh as he continued on. trails of saliva glistened on your neck as he grunted in response.

"don' care..." he whispered gruffly as he raised his head to your ear, nipping at the flesh before dropping his head back to the junction of your neck and shoulder, too focused on marking up your pretty skin to comment any further.

and you were enjoying it a little too much to stop his ministrations, feeling your body become more and more worked up with months of pent up frustration, tension that you couldn't get out with your own hand between your thighs. it had to be his.

you didn't protest when he came back to your lips with a harsher, more desperate than before kiss, his tongue wiping against the pink, moisturized flesh of your bottom lip. he wouldn't go much further before he pulled away, a string of saliva being the only thing to connect you two now.

you felt a frown form on your face as you deciphered the growing, smug smirk on his face, whining as he pulled you away from the door whilst fixing the strap to your tank top, the one he had pushed aside to leave wet, lewd kisses down your neck and shoulder.

"come on now, lovie, can't have m'sister wonderin' where ya ran off to, can we?" he teased, his tone arrogant and nonchalant as he sent you on your way, not without a sharp slap to your ass. he chuckled to himself at the small yelp you let out before he shut his door.

he cursed under his breath as he stared at the blank surface, his sweatpants all too tight for his heavy cock that was now hard just from your sweet lips against his.

but it wasn't like he wasn't going to have you eventually, i mean he just left you hanging, soaking up your little panties at the mere thought of him touching you, the memory of his lips against your skin would having you crawling back in no time.

and maybe that time, you wouldn't have a time constraint on your moments together.

[firsttraintovictoriaville]

me remembering the time i made my romany dad and half black half jewish mom and my half romany quarter black quarter jewish self dress up as pilgrims and take a professional photo of it

[rosenclaws]

Stronger || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: after failing your last mission you start to over train yourself in secret but Logan notices the bruises and cuts and wont leave you alone about it.

warnings: angst to fluff, patching up fic, the reader is very hard on themselves, injury, blood, insecurity, sweet logan, reader pushes themself too much.

a/n: I had this idea at like 1:30am last night and I wrote it when i woke up oops. I just love fluffy patching up logan fics what can I say.

There it is again. Logan's nose twitches as you walk by. You smell like dirt and sweat but most of all blood. He locks eyes with you as you walk past the kitchen door.

Theres a limp in your step. It's subtle but there. You're wearing long pants and long sleeves despite it being hot outside and you're hiding your hands in your pockets. There's bags under your eyes and the smiles you give people aren't real.

Logan narrows his eyes at you and you look at the ground. Hurrying away from his pointed gaze. He wants to go after you but he hears your door slam and lock.

No one else has picked up on this except for him. He brings it up in passing but he's brushed off every time. Something is up with you and he's going to figure out what.

You sigh as you lean against your door. Your body aches like crazy and all you want to do is collapse onto the bed and sleep. But you force yourself to the bathroom. You need to scrub off all the evidence of everything from the night before. The blood and grime washed off but the bruises stayed.

"Damn." You mumbled as you took in the injuries from this time.

The person displayed in the mirror looked like a stranger. Your eyes were sunken, bruises on your body, you looked tired and felt worse. But you had to keep going. You needed to be strong, to prove yourself and this was the only way.

At least that's what you think. You crawl into bed and pass out the moment your head hits the pillows. Unfortunately the nightmares start then too.

You're back on your last mission. The whole reason you've been pushing yourself so hard. You were weak, lost, a burden to the team. You weren't like everyone else at the mansion. You didn't come here as a kid.

In fact you were well into your adult life when Professor Xavier found you. You had no training, no experience. You got stuck into classes with kids who had already mastered their powers. You felt silly, a fool to think you could be apart of this world. You didn't belong.

So when you got the chance to go on a mission you were excited. It means they thought you were ready, that you had something in you that could help.

The mission went terribly. You were overwhelmed and could barely keep up. Tackled to the ground you cried out in pain. A sharp blade against your neck caused you to freeze. You tried to conjure your energy blasts but a foot on your wrist stopped you. It was digging into you, crushing you. You closed your eyes as you braced yourself for what was to come.

It never does.

The pressure is released all at once as Logan tackled the man who was on you. Digging his claws into him until he's limp on the ground. He runs to you, checking you injuries. You couldn't speak. You couldn't warn Logan that someone else was coming. Then it all goes black. You're too late.

You sit up, Logan's name on the tip of your tongue as you wake up. Fuck. You take in your surroundings and try to calm down. Slowly sinking back into your bed. Reminding yourself that everything fine.

That the last mission didn't really end that way. Logan is okay, you're okay. But what if things had played out different.

If you could have held your own then Logan wouldn't have had to come to your rescue. He carried you back to the jet and while everyone was nice, you knew that you disappointed them.

You haven't been asked to go on a mission since. It hurt, you wanted to go. To be apart of the team. So you took it upon yourself to train. Your powers were trained in lessons with the professor but he never lets you go past a certain limit. So instead you decided to sneak out at night to the nearby forest and train there.

Honing not only your powers but your hand to hand combat as well. Trees were your only partners but it worked. They were strong and sturdy. Every night you'd sneak out. Practice with your powers which drained you and then practiced everything else after. It left you bloody and bruised but in your mind it was worth it.

Glancing at the clock you see that you've slept through most of the day. The sun had already set. Quietly you get dressed and sneak down the hallways. Most everyone was already in bed and if they weren't they were socializing in the living room. All you had to do was sneak by and you were home free for the night.

Laughter is the perfect distraction as you sneak past the doorway. Opening the door slowly and sneaking outside, running to the safety of the woods. What you don't notice is someone following you.

Logan caught your scent the second you stepped out of your room. Whether he wants to admit it or not he's always searching for you. He smelled your shampoo wafting past the door and eyed you outside. You were quick but he could still see you. Enough of this. Whatever the hell you were doing was killing you. Slowly but surely it was ruining you physically and mentally. He slipped away from the rest of the people in the living room and followed you.

As he got deeper in the woods he became worried, just what could you be doing out here? His ears perk up as he hears you. Peaking through the trees he finds you in a small clearing. You were clearly exhausted but you kept pushing. Creating energy from your finger tips and blasting them at a tall redwood.

Logan smells the blood that trickled from your nose. You were pushing yourself too hard. He's about to reveal himself when the loud creaking of a branch stops him.

You were too wrapped up in conjuring another blast that you don't notice a large tree branch cracking from the force of your powers. Logan springs in to action.

"Watch out!" He growls as he launches himself at you. Grabbing your body and wrapping himself around you the best he can. The branch falls right onto his back. It snaps in two as it falls to either side of you.

"Logan?! What are you doing here?" You ask as you stare at the fallen branch. Kicking yourself for not noticing it fast enough forcing Logan to put himself in danger for you again.

"What am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing out here?" He yells as he lets you go. Taking in just how bad you looked.

"What the hell is wrong with you? What if I wasn't here? What if that branch fell and hit you and no one would know that you were bleeding out in the fucking woods!" Logan snarls. His fear and worry being masked by anger. How could you be so reckless? So stupid?

"I didn't ask you to fucking follow me!" You bite back. Shame creeping up as he scolds you. Logan scoffs and grabs your face firmly.

"Do you even see yourself right now?" He grabs your wrist and holds it up. Staring at your bloody knuckles. It fucking hurts. It hurts for him to see you like this and it hurts him that you were doing this to yourself.

“You're tearing yourself apart, why?" The anger starts to fade, his real feelings breaking through.

"Because I'm weak." You admit, your voice cracking as the adrenaline starts to drain. Instead being replaced but complete and utter exhaustion.

"What?" Logan asks in disbelief.

"I failed the last mission, I could have gotten you hurt, I was a liability. If I got stronger, If I was better."

"Stop. Just stop. You really think all that?" Logan has let go of you by now, his eyes are looking at all your bruises. All the damage you've done to yourself.

"You don't?" You ask, afraid of his answer.

He doesn't say a word. Instead he takes your holds your hand, you try to ignore the butterflies growing in your stomach as he leads you back to the mansion. Taking you up to his room where he pulls out a first aid kit.

He doesn't need one but every room has one, of course you had already used up all of yours. Silently he patches you up, wrapping your knuckles in bandages and wiping up the blood from your nose.

"If you wanted train you could have come to one of us, to me." He should have noticed sooner, said something. Stopped you from doing this to yourself.

"I thought I had to do it on my own."

"You don't. It took me a while to figure it out too but you don't." He would be a hypocrite to scold you for going off alone but he doesn't really care.

"I'm sorry." You mumble. Logan cups your face and to your shock kisses your forehead gently.

"Don't ever do this again do you hear me." Logan can help you, he can protect you.

"I won't." You promise him. He smiles and picks you up.

"Logan!" You yelp as he drops you into his bed.

It smells just like him and you can't deny the instant comfort that comes over you as you snuggle into his sheets.

"You're going to rest for the next week. Anything you need you just call alright?"

"But what-" He stares at you and you stop talking, he wasn't fucking around about this.

"When you're healed and rested. Then we can train together." He doesn't leave room for argument, not that you wanted to argue with him anyways but still.

"Thank you Logan...You didn't have to do this."

He could have turned his head, pretended he never saw anything. Its what you expected him to do if you were being honest. But he didn't. He saw you struggling, pushing yourself and he couldn't let you hurt yourself any longer. He cared about you, a lot.

"I know." He says simply.

"Will you stay, while I sleep. I've been getting these nightmares and well..." Logan nods his head.

He shuts off the lights and crawls into bed with you. Kind of, more like he's half hanging off the edge of the bed. But you're comfortable and that's good enough for him.

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep. The comforting aura of Logan was enough. He hums as you curl closer to him. Logan chasing away any nightmares that threaten to hurt you and for the first time in a while your dreams are quiet.

A smile on your face as peace finally overcomes your dreams.