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writernopal · 10 months ago

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🏴‍☠️All Hands To Stations!🏴‍☠️

Yo ho, all together Hoist the colors high Heave ho, thieves and beggars Never shall we die!

Hoist The Colors, Hans Zimmer

Fierce sails crowd the horizon and sturdy keels cleave the seas as violence this way comes. Meet those who'd call themselves the masters of the waves, traders of flesh, devils disguised as man, and lovers of all things brilliant and bright. These are the wretched Pirates of Oepus and the vessels which they call home. But don't just read about them, choose your fave in a poll at the end of this post!

Shoutout to @pheita for her ask here that prompted this post! I didn't forget it just took me a while to get around to it haha.

AASOAF 3 Taglist: @outpost51 @thelivingdeceased @faelanvance @captain-kraken @illjustpretend @elshells @full-on-sam @the-mindless @zestymimblo @tabswrites @void-botanist

Join/leave the taglist using this Google Form.

Graphics made with license free images from Unsplash.

The Mirage

Captain: The Witch of The Drowned Forest, Fay Anara Quartermaster: Wilkes Evos Sikthax-Seymour of Tlanxla First Mate: Thelma-Louise Morely Crew Name: The Siren's Marauders

One minute she's there and the next, she's gone. Such is the nature of this mysterious vessel... Rumored to be over 700 years old, stained black as night, and built for speed, The Mirage houses no brig in her hold, operating solely on the principle of 'give no quarter'. Armed with a whalebone bow-spike and crewed by convicts, only shipwrecks and floating dead are left in her wake, and those who survive, face a worse fate yet--that of being consumed alive by her captain.

Meet her captain:

To my left was the frightening woman I knew as Fay. She was tall and chiseled but not by a blunt stonemason’s tool, rather by something sharper, a razor perhaps, to produce her wildcat-like frame. Her dark hair and skin gleamed in the low light of this room as if they were slicked in oil and set ablaze. And like many spidering cracks in a fine dish, were angular-looking runes, etched into her skin that came together to cradle a dull-glowing, rising sun drawn in the center of her chest. Revealing this sun was a deeply cleaved red blouse that tucked into her pants. It billowed about her like the sail of a ship did about its mast. Despite the almost ordinary clothing she wore, there could hardly be one who might dare view her as plain, for her opulence shone through in other ways. Just in the hollows of her collarbones sat a fat, rough-cut sapphire dangling from a length of twisted tack line. Her magic blackened fingers were adorned with many rings and jewels in all colors, dangerously finished with her long, talon-like nails that presently gnawed at the wooden table beneath them. Golden hoops and bangles decorated her ears and wrists, and dotting her hair like many stars were human teeth. But those mock stars were hardly terrifying compared to her golden eyes. They shivered with a barely contained rage as she glowered across the table at the woman to my right...

The Angel's Lyre

Captain: Scourge of War, Lord Manthia of Clan Phaxix of The House of War Quartermaster: Lord Ixlar of Clan Oleander of The House of War First Mate: Lord Axtapor of Clan Oxlo of The House of Dreams Crew Name: The Starlight Walkers

A methodical vector of destruction, this frigate represents the long and proud arm of The House of War of The Holtep Empire. Richly carved and brightly painted, she appears like the fiery red-gold Goddess Kava cleaving the seas. Ballista, not canons, defend her decks alongside her bloodthirsty Lizardfolk crew. Raids are her specialty and only the most lucrative of ventures are enough to bend her eye, and that of her captain, your way.

Meet her captain:

The boards creaked loudly as the source of the sound approached—heavy footfalls and the light scratching of talons on wood. Judging by their cadence, there were at least two approaching, perhaps three, but they did not keep us waiting for long, as the one at the head of the group quickly took shape in the low light. A brilliant cerulean lizard, dressed in what I would call excess. He was positively crusted in jewels and jingling like a purse of gold with his every move. His eyes shone a beautiful bronze amid his sculpted features and about his neck were many white feathers, haloing him much like someone stepped out of an old painting. One might almost wonder if he was truly the tactician of a great vessel as this and not an overgrown boy with a penchant for overspending. That is until his skills in the art of the duel were put on display. And then it was easy to see where the attitude of ‘more to be had’ originated from.

Orpheus

Captain: Mangrove of Tides, Ka'hra Zelgius Quartermaster: Yggta Tah’vya First Mate: Ceresta Ka’leva Crew Name: The Undrowned Ones

The intrepid and one-of-a-kind elven pirate ship, Orpheus, travels not in silence, but robed in song. She floats along the waves with a choir on board, emitting haunting notes to reach the ears of those she sets her sights upon. Amid this orchestra of dread, she fires her great canons, to fell any foe who would cross her. And once the deed is done, the dead are gathered, their flesh rent from bone, and they are strung up, so they may forever sing alongside the other talented members of the choir.

Meet her captain:

And finally, the ancient Mangrove of Tides, the elven Captain Zelgius of the Orpheus. I’d known him many times over. He was not at all a dawdling character as his moniker might suggest, rather it was an ode to his interesting displacement of habitat. I suppose of late it did take on something of a double meaning, such was the way with elder elves as he. His limbs and all were beginning to harden and so moved less deftly much like those creeping trees. Indeed many thought his difficult movements were on account of the typical elven reaction when put beside water. Their kind were not swimmers, nor even buoyant, indeed they routinely drowned in waters human or dwarven child might play in. It was then surprising, astonishing even, to find one cutting across the great seas of Oepus, let alone one who would call them home as he did. No doubt his elven brethren thought him a fool for severing his ties with the forests which bore him and forfeiting those companions which would remember the world as it was those two-hundred or so years ago when he was born. He dressed his age, routinely wearing the fashions from those centuries past. Today, a robed piece of a deep green with an asymmetrical collar, sewn into it, the pattern of fallen leaves. The shade contrasted with the beechwood tone of his skin, but brought out the ochre of his hair. Rather less like hair as humans and dwarves knew it, and more like leafed vines. They rustled about him in long strands, spouting from the style atop his head like a proud cock’s comb.

The Mystic

Captain: Navigator of Kings, Charles Walthorn Quartermaster: Sophie-Marie Morely First Mate: Helena Walthorn Crew Name: Plunderer’s of the East

This vessel has circumnavigated Oepus more than any other in existence. She is far from the fastest, or the most nimble, or even the most terrifying, trading a fearsome outward appearance for seaworthiness. There is none is so reliable as she, and her crew is much the same. A contract taken is a contract honored, and you can bet that she will never lose sight of you. There is nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. To be hunted by her is to be marked for death.

Meet her captain:

The proclaimed Navigator of Kings, Captain Walthorn of the Mystic. He was called so because once upon a time, he himself had pledged his service to the Pale Navy beneath the Emperor Phostos of the Pale Kingdom at the infancy of his reign. He’d never told anyone how he managed to successfully escape such a posting, regarding it as his best kept secret. True old salt if there ever was one. Perhaps he was not as polished as the aforementioned Morely, but every inch the image of what a child or common man might imagine an accomplished navyman to look like. A snow beard, with thinning white hair to match, a bright red coat with a golden lion’s head pauldron perched on his left shoulder and two long curved cutlasses—affectionately called ‘Tooth’ and ‘Nail’—dangling from his waist. Their handsome golden pommels poked out from coat, appearing like the armrests of a throne. His belt buckle peaked out from underneath his rum-round gut, which strained against the buttons of his waistcoat. Hard to believe that further beneath that was the instrument which he famously used to produce bastards. I’d long lost count at how many he’d sired, to be sure almost all were by Morely, and the rumor of his children manning his ship the Mystic might be easily discredited, had they not all shared his hazel eyes and crooked nose.

The Lady of The West

Captain: The Fallen One, Santo Orfeo Quartermaster: Benedicto Vicente First Mate: Benedicto Mauricio Crew Name: Los De Agua Sagrada

Gun decks are hardly what should strike fear into your heart if this vessel crosses your path. Exclusively taking her victims at sunset, she appears to be born of the sun's fire itself and the faceless figures which wander her decks appear like the silhouettes of the departed. With their wailing cries to the god Orran, they plead for everlasting mercy, catching all within earshot in a trance which can only be called divine. So give up your riches and repent alongside them. Or else.

Meet her captain:

Put between he and the last man on the right was the hooded figure of The Fallen One, Captain Orfeo of The Lady of the West. A self-given title, some manner of flagellation for an ill-begotten behavior he didn’t dare elaborate on, let alone speak of. It did not matter the light of day, or the glow of candlelight, or the shine of moon, nor in what power or from which direction they came, his countenance remained always cloaked in shadow. Indeed if he were ‘he’ or man at all. All that could be seen was his towering figure, cut tall and broad, beneath a sun-bleached version of a priest’s habit. A severe stiletto of the most shining gold rested at his waist and nothing more. His crew just as sullen were lauded by all who crossed them as ‘men of blessed waters’, claiming that indeed they’d seen ‘Orran’s light and love’ and were compelled beyond all reason to part with their riches whenever they appeared.

Johnny No Hands

Captain: Mother of Waves, Evelyn Morely Quartermaster: Eric Walthorn First Mate: Anna-May Morely Crew Name: The Requisitioneer’s

Contrary to her name, Johnny No Hands indeed requires many hands to operate, the most of any pirate ship on the seas of Oepus. Her illustrious crew is comprised of ex-navymen, ex-merchantmen, mariners, and buccaneers alike. Because of this, it has often been said that this vessel could easily be mistaken for navy-born man o' war for how effortlessly she operates. But don't fool yourself, these men are hardened pirates all the same. A special breed of cruel, calculating, and cunning, so be prepared to fight this floating fortress should you find yourself on the other side of her guns.

Meet her captain:

Following that came the Mother of Waves, Captain Morely of the vessel Johnny No Hands. She hated the name, though not because it suggested age or that tantamount responsibility, but because it sounded silly to her. Even so, with the number of accomplished sailors, pirates, buccaneers, and all other such likes born from her and suckled at her breast, it was little wonder she would not garner such a title. Her long, stick straight grey hair was slicked back with ship tar and the dark blue of her coat made the sea-like color of her eyes shine. She was a slim, bronze, sun-spotted figure of a woman, beautifully weathered much like her well-traveled ship. Rather less like ‘a specimen exhibiting the finest quality of human leather’ as her bastard daughter, the ever jabbing Thelma-Louise, First Mate of the Mirage, liked to say. Age became her regal air. A fine, fine woman of autumn years… She lamented the loss of her fire colored hair, but I rather enjoyed her silver. It called to mind the gentle light of dawn just as the sun was waking.

The Virgin

Captain: Gorgon of the Deep, Francesca Cotton Quartermaster: Giulio Espos First Mate: Giulia Espos Crew Name: The Eyeless Corsairs

A flighty vessel who traipses the waters of Oepus as if on her maiden voyage each time she puts to sea, she is the ultimate trickster of the waves. Appearing defenseless is her game, often luring her victims to chase after her when she wanders into their waters. She is the most nimble pirate ship of all, making tacks into the wind look like child's play, and when she finally comes about, well, prepare for a mean broadside and swivel guns full of shrapnel to the face. Give no quarter indeed.

Meet her captain:

So I gestured to the near and leftmost one, the infamous Gorgon of the Deep, Captain Cotton of the Virgin. She smiled at someone, her blindfold perking up where it sat across her cheeks. Between her dark lips and underneath her low nose were piles and piles of oil black teeth, filed to points. Her skin was scaly as ever and draped in what looked like torn ship sails emblazoned with some pattern. At present, it was impossible to discern what that pattern might be due to the many folds of the material and the thick line that twisted about her to secure in place. Even so, the garment put the soot tone of her scaled flesh on display, exposing the lines of red cut across her belly just above where the ample part of a normal human woman’s hips would be. Such a thing she was not, no matter how familiar her trunk might be. What followed were not legs. Instead, she steadied herself on a slim, long, coiled serpent’s tail, decorated with a spike on the end. Upon her bald head, were runic shapes of all sorts, running down the length of her neck and over her shoulders, like a veil soaked in water. She, too, was committed to the dark craft as her ‘eldest sister’—what she liked to call Fay.

Left Hook

Captain: Father of Fight, Torund Hayhurst Quartermaster: Nora Silverkey First Mate: Tamil Tarlock Crew Name: Ofler’s Buccaneers

Flagship of the Dwarven Pirate Collective, this vessel is known for her mean broadside but more than that, hauling other ships alongside her until they fall to pieces. Armed with a cleverly engineered piece of dwarven machinery along her portside hull, she is able to pierce the hulls of enemy ships at close range and drag them through corals or rocky shores. One man is always left standing to tell the harrowing tale of his ship and crew's loss, so don't lose hope, you may survive yet even if her sails cloud the horizon.

Meet her captain:

And the next, the dwarven Father of Fight, Captain Hayhurst of the Left Hook. Just then he stamped his booted foot on the floor of his launch. The poor little vessel jostled under the strength of his blow. A credit to the famed strength of dwarves to be sure. His great black beard nearly caught underfoot of his tantrum, so decorated with trinkets and such, that it rattled like an angry wind chime and sparkled like a starry night sky. His coat was an impressive thing made of seal fur and a leather looking hide of some kind. Rather than carry a sword or blade of any sort, he favored a pair of hatchets, each one strapped to his thighs. His quartermaster, one Nora Silverkey, squinted through her one good eye and notched a mark in a wooden paddle at her belt with a frown. Counting what? I wondered.

The Blind Vengeance

Captain: Legacy of Rook’s Keep, Antony Anderton Quartermaster: Marcus Anderton First Mate: Luther Anderton Crew Name: Mutineer’s of The Rook

The infamous outcast of Rook's Keep, this vessel is notorious as a paradise for troublemakers, the unwanted, and anyone with a good throwing arm. She specializes in procuring "special" cargo by way of harpooning--sea nymph's flesh, whale carcasses, even demons and vampires on occasion. If it glitters or otherwise shines, her crew will be sure to clear space in their hull for it and will sell only to the highest bidder. But chances are you're not interesting enough to be traded, which is really too bad, because, well, you've already seen too much.

Meet her captain:

Beside him, the incorrigible Legacy of Rook’s Keep, Captain Anderton of the Blind Vengeance. Rook’s Keep was a squalid like place but apparently even it had had enough of him and his unruly band of brothers. He propped one leg up on the edge of his launch, his knee tenting his wide-legged breeches. They raised slightly at the ankle, displaying his leather sandals and mangled feet. Ever the three toed creature. Around his waist, swirled a black cloth belt, decorated with whale bones and beaded trinkets. His lean trunk sprang from it, tufts of blond chest hair tangled themselves into his many necklaces, framed by his open whale hide vest and his makeshift cape made of fish net. On top of his head, a worn, brimmed hat, enclosed his ratty hair. His quartermaster and first mate—said brothers—flanked him on either side in similar dress, but paid less attention to the general goings on, instead putting their focus on treating their harpoons.

#aasoaf #pirates of oepus #choose your captain #my writing #poll #info dump #its a long post #sorry not sorry you will suffer my pirate obsession LOL #especially because ive been sitting on this whole court for literal years at this point

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tenebriism · 1 month ago

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Anara is only slightly zoning out as hands ghost along Garrus’ armor, head tilting in the process, like she's trying to figure something out in her head, brows furrowing a touch with every new variable she finds. But there comes a moment where her eyes fall upon the battle damage, vision dancing across melted alloy and singed carbon fiber. She tries not to let her mind return to that day, but try as she might, the invasive memory manages to slip through. Eventually she shakes herself away from it and slowly lifts her gaze to meet his own. There's a silent plea lingering behind that hazel vision, practically radiating off her form when resting her hands on the battered chestplate. // uwu

He lets her... and mayhap she is the ONLY one he will allow to be so close to him and touch him like this. Dusk eyes watch as the emotions 'pon her face shift, giving insight to thoughts even before she's even said them. He wonders, distantly, if she knows how easy it is for him to read her.

Another part of him wonders if it's only because she has MADE it easy for him to read her, which is a blessing most will never come to receive.

" ... you've too much on your plate in the present to add things to it from the past, Shepard, " he whispers, before lifting his own hands to settle o'ertop hers. Hypocrite, he is, for his mind oft runs back to that very moment, too, when he truly thought his last breath was soon to come. ' At least, ' he had begun to think as the darkness closed in around him, ' my last view will be of her. ' He's only still standing here with a far better, less BLURRY and blood-soaked view of her now BECAUSE of her, and he would be remiss to squander the opportunity to remain at her side even longer. Someone's got to keep her from DROWNING, after all, and nobody can do it quite as well as him.

Or, maybe they can, but he's not going to let them have the chance. Not when it has already taken her so much to be VULNERABLE afront him, when she must be anything but afront everyone else.

" See? I'm tangible. Still handsome in turian standards, ugly in human standards, especially with the scars. " Despite the lighthearted joke, he sees her. Understands her. The need in her gaze, the closeness of their bodies, and the unspoken request certain to be interrupted by some CATASTROPHE or another any second now. " I'm here... " Comes another whisper as he leans in, closer, closer, ghosting scarred lips and jawline 'gainst her own, " And you'll have to do a lot more than that to get rid of me. I'm more afraid of you than I am of anything out there... but I'm hardly special in that regard. I mean, look at you... something so beautiful, but so, so powerful? Nevermind the reapers or Cerberus... "

A breath of a chuckle eases betwixt the close proximity of their lips, and he can only hope he's not fumbling this as badly as he believes he is in his own head. " Fortunate, then, that I'm on your good side. "

@kismetwilled ;;

#kismetwilled #[ // falls over and self destructs #MAAAAAN HE'S... SO IN LOVE. I JUST--- UGH. THAT WOMAN COULD TELL HIM TO KNEEL #AND HE WOULD KNEEL. AND THEN GIVE HIS SOUL TO HER /FOR FREE./ ]#muse ;; GARRUS ( ANSWERED ASK )#muse ;; GARRUS ( ♥ ANARA . KISMETWILLED )

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ranger-ribbons · 1 year ago

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Not sure how to go about the headcanon things, but here's some for the comic timelines we both see and only got little hints at during Shattered Grid and Graphic One-Shots:

Eric Myers is not as big of an asshole as he was in the live action Time Force, or he never would have GIVEN Jen a hug.

Cam missed every single member of his team and his dad while stuck in Beyond the Grid, but was mostly worried that Drakkon got his slimy hands on his cousins when he saw a lot of the villains throughout the dimensions and timelines out on the battlefield.

Mia ACTUALLY learned to cook in the second month on Promethea when she lost her powers, because Tyler Navarro, Dana Mitchell, and T.J. Johnson were all there and all of them would have recognized something was not right when she didn't cook chicken and thought a Carolina Reaper made a great condiment.

Fun idea about the World of the Coinless: the Comic Relief or Secondary Characters are all badass and pretty much evolved like Pokemon when Drakkon took over. Fran got shipped to Pai Zhua with Casey when Skull finagled them out of the dungeons they were in for stealing bread and was given Orange, which made her perfect for dual combat in the field with RJ; Victor and Monty got found by Bulk trying to protect grade school children some sentries were bullying after curfew and turned out perfect to help out Trini and the first assault fighters in the field; Ben and Betty got split up during a bombing that killed their dad--with Ben getting picked up by the Coinless and taken under the wing of Rocky and Aisha, whereas Betty got caught by the sentries to be turned over to the Mastodon Division BUT got a final hour diversion into palace housekeeping because Adam is a big softie even if he can't stand up for himself. And so on~

Spike Skullovitch DOES NOT have a mother. Make of that whatever you want.

Animals still exist in the RPM universe, but are kept underground in a specialized, secondary location not terribly unlike the Son Doong Cave.

Cassidy and Devin are actually exceptionally competent when paired up with the Rangers in their high school to do literally anything; largely because the Morphin Grid sets up certain people to assist their Rangers from one team to another and these two were perfect. Though...for some reason they work 90% better with Trent than any of the Primary Rangers?

Orange is the rarest Grid Color and most of those who end up wearing it are female or have a lot of femme qualities and/or some form of mental illness.

When the Psycho Rangers were left to their own devices in the aftermath of the Psycho Path, Yellow never took up a different name and none of them ever went looking for the person that they used to be.

J.J. Oliver is a trans man and Anara is a trans woman and they're both pansexual. They go to Pride together every year and there is a MASSIVE betting pool on when they finally figure out they're basically dating.

Clare might be a massive klutz and Leelee might still be getting used to the whole being human thing, but both of them are the most responsible people in their circle of friends and family.

Sharing your headcanons is just sending me headcanons to enjoy/share with me, with I'm 100% down for. Asking me about mine is just asking me about headcanons surrounding specific teams or people. As a precaution, I haven't seen the comics at all.

I fucking love all of these!

Thank you!

@augment-techs

#power rangers #thoughts and headcanons #ask #mutuals #augment techs #thanks techs!#headcanons

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bilightningwhumper · 2 months ago

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@ailesswhumptober 2024- Day 6

Surprise Sunday: Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”

<<Previous . My AI-less Whumptober 2024 Masterlist . Next>>

ToF Masterlist

Summary:

Excerpt for "Temptations of Fate" (Romeo and Juliet Angels/Demons AU retelling) The mission ends, but not the way anyone planned... or wanted

Notes:

Characters: Morgan- Romeo Jennifer- Rosaline Anara- undecided role Neptune- undecided role Romanos- undecided role Warnings: injury and death

Ao3 link

Word count: 429

Morgan PoV

Morgan woke up to dust and pain. Groaning, she tried to sit up, rubbing her eyes. She could see, somewhat, but fell back as what felt like lightning shot through one of her wings.

"Don't move." Neptune was next to her. "There was an explosion. We all got hit and they got away."

She started to sit up anyway, gritting her teeth through the pain. "Where's Jenn?" she rasped.

He didn't answer her, just tried to get her to lay back down.

“Neptune, where’s Jenn?”

His eyes betrayed him. Darting to the other side of the room.

She followed his line of sight to see Romanos unconscious next to her, Anara sitting beside them. Far off, she could see Jenn, crouched next to a glowing power source. It was rigged to something, though she couldn’t tell what it was.

Clutching her half of their paired necklace, she sent out her thoughts, “What are you doing?”

“Someone has to shut this thing down.” came back, Jenn’s voice weaker than it should have been.

She ignored Neptune’s attempts to get her in his arms, knowing his intentions. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Anara was already starting to limp out with Romanos on her shoulders.

“We have to get out of here, that thing is going to blow again, isn’t it?”

“It’ll blow up half the city if I don’t alter it.”

The blood drained from her face. Her family, her friends, all those innocents. They’d really rig something that big? Distracted, she couldn’t stop Neptune anymore as he picked her up and started carrying her away. “Then just alter it or whatever and get out of there.”

“It’s blood locked, Morgs. And it’s tied to my family. I’m the only one who can do this.” Her voice grew weaker and as much as Morgan tried to convince herself it was from the distance, she knew better than that. “I have to stay here when it blows. “

Morgan couldn’t answer, couldn’t stop her distress from leaking through the bond.

“Morgs, promise you’ll live for me. Promise you’ll move on someday. I can’t be your only love.”

“You’ll come back.” she protested weakly. “We’re not like human souls, we come back. So-”

“You know I won’t.”

Her heart was breaking. “Jenn, please-”

“Promise me.”

They were out of the building. “I- I can’t. You have to-”

“Promise.”

She closed her eyes. “I promise.”

Another explosion reattled the ground. The building collapsed in on itself.

The connection was severed.

Morgan didn’t feel anything. Couldn’t…

Jenn was gone.

Forever.

Temptations of Fate:

No one so far

#ailesswhumptober2024 #day 6 #romeo and juliet #temptations of fate #whump community #whumpblr #whump writing #writing events #writing event #writing challenge #whump angst #nonhuman whump #multiple whumpees #magic whump #fantasy whump #cw death mention #tw death

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miniatureearthquakecat · 4 months ago

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Pomegranate Queen

Prologue

The third day of the aspects' celebration had been, for 15 years of Alys' life, her least favorite day of the Anarin cycle. For 15 years, she had spent the sacred day curled and weeping, the first times holding a cracked porcelain doll, and in more recent times, a bottle of strong cherry wine. The porcelain had been cold, her tears had been salty, and the drink had been sweet. Today, what she tasted was triumph, on the back of her tongue, thick enough to coat her mouth. Today, on the sacred third day of the eleven apparitions, Alys heard the music of the goddess, and she beamed.

Many hours in many years, and all employed uselessly in her opinion, had been spent studying all the aspects of the goddess Anara, as she had been before the sacrifice. After a century or two of strong discord and strife, the scholars had reached the conclusion that there were eleven aspects of Anara that could be perceived by human senses, and the celebrations were created.

If the Anarin scholars could be trusted, which they certainly could not, the goddess spoke in a voice of peace and power, her music giving life to all it touched. To her, the goddess sounded incredibly, unimaginably loud.

She didn't know who had the job of translating the divine voice to human ears. According to the rites, no names could be recorded in the divine tomes. Those who studied the divine aspects should only do so due to devotion, and never for vanity or posterity. Because she couldn't know, she could only, very sincerely, hope that those divine translator's had met an early, but prolonged and painful end, that not even the goddess would have had the heart to forgive. Because they had decided that their Anara, their mother goddess, sounded like fucking-

Bells. Dozens, hundreds of them, big and small, deep and shrill. They rang in the hands of the figures walking the procession, their robes the deep color of amethyst. Children ran the streets, adding with enthusiasm to the noise, not only with their own smaller version of the bells, but also with their own shrill little voices, shrieking with delight as they ran with the procession.

The bells of the temple completed the symphony, ten each as big as a man, and an eleventh as big as a bison. The resulting sound was so powerful that it was more felt than heard. Alys had read the theories, knew the goal was to overwhelm the senses in such a way that they stopped registering the human stimuli, and began to attune with the divine. The much more tangible effect would undoubtedly be an impressive, collective migraine.The goddess pity anyone who had been fool enough to get drunk in the previous night's celebration of flavor. A good lesson that would be, she thought with a smirk, that the sweet intoxicating presence of the night before that filled you with lightness and took away your troubles very well could become the shrill nightmare that woke you up the morning after.

By then, they could feel the vibration under their skull, thrumming their eyelids and shaking their teeth. The smiles of the devotees were so wide they must be painful, but they persisted because they knew they were blessed. In just a few moments, they were going to see an apparition on Anara, borne again in one of her priestesses. It was an unimaginable privilege, rare and precious. Alys closed her eyes and let the sound feel the feeling wash over her. Soon, she knew the only genuine smile in the crowd could only be her own. She was the only one who knew they were about to watch a goddess die.

#my writing #fiction #original work #slow burn #fantasy #eventual romance

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xasha777 · 6 months ago

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In the year 2150, humanity had spread across the solar system, establishing colonies on Mars, Europa, and beyond. Amidst the stars and the vast expanse of space, Earth remained a cherished home, especially for those who sought a deeper connection to their roots. One such individual was Anara, a brilliant scientist and explorer from the highlands of the Bismarck Range in Papua New Guinea.

Anara was renowned not just for her intellect but also for her unique heritage. Her ancestors had thrived in the Bismarck Range for millennia, and their traditions and wisdom were etched into her very being. She wore her cultural attire with pride—a blend of traditional patterns and modern design, symbolizing the fusion of her rich past and the advanced future she was a part of.

One fateful day, Anara discovered an ancient artifact deep within a hidden cave in the Bismarck Range. The artifact, a crystalline sphere emitting a soft, pulsating light, was unlike anything she had ever seen. With her curiosity piqued, she took it back to her laboratory for further analysis.

As she studied the artifact, she realized it was not of this world. The sphere contained a holographic map of an unknown star system and a message in a language that was both alien and eerily familiar. Anara deciphered the message, uncovering a tale of an ancient civilization that had thrived in the Bismarck Range eons ago, long before recorded history.

This civilization, known as the Anurans, had developed advanced technologies and had contact with extraterrestrial beings. The artifact was a beacon, a call for help that had been activated during their final days as their civilization faced an existential threat from an alien force.

Driven by a sense of duty to her ancestors and a thirst for knowledge, Anara decided to follow the map. She embarked on a journey to the star system indicated in the hologram, taking with her a team of the best scientists and explorers from across the solar system.

Their destination was a planet in the distant system, lush with vibrant flora and teeming with life. However, as they approached, they encountered a blockade of alien ships. These were the same beings that had once threatened the Anurans. They were ruthless and powerful, but Anara's team was prepared.

Using a combination of advanced technology and the wisdom encoded in the artifact, Anara devised a plan to communicate with the aliens. She discovered that they were not inherently malevolent but had been driven by a misunderstanding and fear of the Anurans' power. Through her negotiation skills and the rich cultural diplomacy passed down from her ancestors, Anara managed to broker peace between the two species.

In a gesture of goodwill, the aliens shared their knowledge and resources, helping humanity advance even further. The artifact's true purpose was revealed—it was a key to unlocking interstellar travel, allowing humans to explore the galaxy with unprecedented ease.

Anara returned to Earth as a hero, her name celebrated across the stars. She had not only uncovered the hidden legacy of the Anurans but also paved the way for a new era of exploration and cooperation between species. Her story became a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the vastness of space, the spirit of the Bismarck Range and the wisdom of her ancestors continued to guide humanity towards a brighter future.

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rowanisawriter · 10 months ago

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unusual oc asks

thanks for the tag, @theluckywizard!! tagging… @mightymizora @gale-in-space (hiii!!) @yourworsttotebag @say-lene

i usually don’t have a lot for oc tag games lol but these prompts are just vague enough that i can hide the fact that my ocs are barely developed 😭

mira (bg3 tav) / anara (bg3 durge)

seasoning: vanilla / cinnamon

weather: crisp autumn day / humid summer evening

color: midnight blue / maroon

sky: clear starry night / vibrant orange sunset

house plant: prayer plant / zz plant

weapon: none (healer!) / shortsword

subject: english lit / human anatomy

social media: goodreads-esque book site / reddit

makeup product: blush / glossy lipstick

candy: lifesaver / chocolate

fear: god / god

ice cube shape: star / sphere

method of long distance travel: train / car

art style: impressionism / abstract

mythological creature: unicorn / dragon

piece of stationary: notepad / black ink pen

celestial body: protostar / comet

#tag games #this was fun!!#oc: mira #oc: anara

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elenasharemofmikaelsons · 15 days ago

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Member Fic: Playing Doctor (Chapter 2)

A brand new chapter of a multi-chapter fic shared on behalf of Elena's Harem of Mikaelsons Discord author @anara-wilde

Title: Playing Doctor (Chapter 2) Author: AnaraWilde | @anara-wilde Posted: November 7, 2024 Chapters: 2/? | Words: 2,071/4,069

Summary: Elena Gilbert isn't a grieving, lovesick, vamp-bait teenager anymore. She's been sacrificed by the Original Hybrid, murdered by an Original Vampire, turned into an undead bloodsucker herself, and somehow managed to come out of all that far, far away from Mystic Falls human, with a ton of student debt, a medical license, and a boss who looks uncannily like Elijah Mikaelson's doppleganger.

That last part is the universe just fucking with her. Again.

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xtruss · 2 years ago

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Dust from desert storms has helped cool Earth for decades. Photograph: Souleymane Ag Anara/AFP/Getty Images

Atmospheric Dust May Have Hidden True Extent of Global Heating!

Material From Dry Landscapes Has Surged Since The 1800s, Possibly Helping To Cool The Planet For Decades

— Maanvi Singh in Los Angeles | Tuesday 17 January 2023

Dust that billows up from desert storms and arid landscapes has helped cool the planet for the past several decades, and its presence in the atmosphere may have obscured the true extent of global heating caused by fossil fuel emissions.

Atmospheric dust has increased by about 55% since the mid-1800s, an analysis suggests. And that increasing dust may have hidden up to 8% of warming from carbon emissions.

The analysis by atmospheric scientists and climate researchers in the US and Europe attempts to tally the varied, complex ways in which dust has affected global climate patterns, concluding that overall, it has worked to somewhat counteract the warming effects of greenhouse gasses. The study, published in Nature Reviews Earth and Environment, warns that current climate models fail to take into account the effect of atmospheric dust.

“We’ve been predicting for a long time that we’re headed toward a bad place when it comes to greenhouse warming,” said Jasper Kok, an atmospheric physicist who led the research. “What this research shows is that so far, we’ve had the emergency brake on.”

About 26m tons of dust are suspended in our atmosphere, scientists estimate. Its effects are complicated.

Dust, along with synthetic particulate pollution, can cool the planet in several ways. These mineral particles can reflect sunlight away from the Earth and dissipate cirrus clouds high in the atmosphere that warm the planet. Dust that falls into the ocean encourages the growth of phytoplankton – microscopic plants in the ocean – that absorb carbon dioxide and produce oxygen.

Dust can also have a warming effect in some cases – darkening snow and ice, and prompting them to absorb more heat.

But after they tallied everything up, it seemed clear to researchers that the dust had an overall cooling effect.

“There are all these different factors that play into the role of mineral dusts in our atmosphere,” said Gisela Winckler, a climate scientist at the Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory at Columbia University. “This is the first review of its kind to really bring all these different aspects together.”

Although climate models have so far been able to predict global heating with quite a bit of accuracy, Winckler said the review made clear that these predictions haven’t been able to pin down the role of dust especially well.

Limited records from ice cores, marine sediment records, and other sources suggest that dust overall had also been increasing since pre-industrial times – in part due to development, agriculture, and other human impacts on landscapes. But the amount of dust also seems to have been decreasing since the 1980s.

More data and research is needed to better understand these dust patterns, Winckler said, and better predict how they will change in coming years.

But if dust in the atmosphere is decreasing, the warming effects of greenhouse gases could speed up.

“We could start to experience faster and faster warming because of this,” Kok said. “And maybe we’re waking up to that reality too late.”

Oil refinery, owned by Exxon Mobil, the second largest in the US in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Exxon predicted rising temperatures and emissions that nearly matched what took place, the study found. Photograph: Barry Lewis/In Pictures/Getty Images

ExxonMobile: Revealed: Exxon Made ‘Breathtakingly’ Accurate Climate Predictions in 1970s and 80s!

Oil Company Drove Some of The Leading Science of The Era Only To Publicly Dismiss Global Heating

— Oliver Milman in New York | Thursday, 12 January 2023

The oil giant Exxon privately “predicted global warming correctly and skilfully” only to then spend decades publicly rubbishing such science in order to protect its core business, new research has found.

A trove of internal documents and research papers has previously established that Exxon knew of the dangers of global heating from at least the 1970s, with other oil industry bodies knowing of the risk even earlier, from around the 1950s. They forcefully and successfully mobilized against the science to stymie any action to reduce fossil fuel use.

A new study, however, has made clear that Exxon’s scientists were uncannily accurate in their projections from the 1970s onwards, predicting an upward curve of global temperatures and carbon dioxide emissions that is close to matching what actually occurred as the world heated up at a pace not seen in millions of years.

Exxon scientists predicted there would be global heating of about 0.2C a decade due to the emissions of planet-heating gases from the burning of oil, coal and other fossil fuels. The new analysis, published in Science, finds that Exxon’s science was highly adept and the “projections were also consistent with, and at least as skillful as, those of independent academic and government models”.

Exxon knew of climate change in 1981, email says – but it funded deniers for 27 more years

Geoffrey Supran, whose previous research of historical industry documents helped shed light on what Exxon and other oil firms knew, said it was “breathtaking” to see Exxon’s projections line up so closely with what subsequently happened.

“This really does sum up what Exxon knew, years before many of us were born,” said Supran, who led the analysis conducted by researchers from Harvard University and the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research. “We now have the smoking gun showing that they accurately predicted warming years before they started attacking the science. These graphs confirm the complicity of what Exxon knew and how they misled.”

The research analyzed more than 100 internal documents and peer-reviewed scientific publications either produced in-house by Exxon scientists and managers, or co-authored by Exxon scientists in independent publications between 1977 and 2014.

The analysis found that Exxon correctly rejected the idea the world was headed for an imminent ice age, which was a possibility mooted in the 1970s, instead predicting that the planet was facing a “carbon dioxide induced ‘super-interglacial’”. Company scientists also found that global heating was human-influenced and would be detected around the year 2000, and they predicted the “carbon budget” for holding the warming below 2C above pre-industrial times.

Armed with this knowledge, Exxon embarked upon a lengthy campaign to downplay or discredit what its own scientists had confirmed. As recently as 2013, Rex Tillerson, then chief executive of the oil company, said that the climate models were “not competent” and that “there are uncertainties” over the impact of burning fossil fuels.

“What they did was essentially remain silent while doing this work and only when it became strategically necessary to manage the existential threat to their business did they stand up and speak out against the science,” said Supran.

“They could have endorsed their science rather than deny it. It would have been a much harder case to deny it if the king of big oil was actually backing the science rather than attacking it.”

Climate scientists said the new study highlighted an important chapter in the struggle to address the climate crisis. “It is very unfortunate that the company not only did not heed the implied risks from this information, but rather chose to endorse non-scientific ideas instead to delay action, likely in an effort to make more money,” said Natalie Mahowald, a climate scientist at Cornell University.

Mahowald said the delays in action aided by Exxon had “profound implications” because earlier investments in wind and solar could have averted current and future climate disasters. “If we include impacts from air pollution and climate change, their actions likely impacted thousands to millions of people adversely,” she added.

Drew Shindell, a climate scientist at Duke University, said the new study was a “detailed, robust analysis” and that Exxon’s misleading public comments about the climate crisis were “especially brazen” given their scientists’ involvement in work with outside researchers in assessing global heating. Shindell said it was hard to conclude that Exxon’s scientists were any better at this than outside scientists, however.

The new work provided “further amplification” of Exxon’s misinformation, said Robert Brulle, an environment policy expert at Brown University who has researched climate disinformation spread by the fossil fuel industry.

“I’m sure that the ongoing efforts to hold Exxon accountable will take note of this study,” Brulle said, a reference to the various lawsuits aimed at getting oil companies to pay for climate damages.

A spokesperson for Exxon said: “This issue has come up several times in recent years and, in each case, our answer is the same: those who talk about how “Exxon Knew” are wrong in their conclusions. In 2019, Judge Barry Ostrager of the NY State Supreme Court listened to all the facts in a related case before him and wrote: “What the evidence at trial revealed is that ExxonMobil executives and employees were uniformly committed to rigorously discharging their duties in the most comprehensive and meticulous manner possible….The testimony of these witnesses demonstrated that ExxonMobil has a culture of disciplined analysis, planning, accounting, and reporting.”

— The Guardian USA

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