#cliffside fractal

[pyreo]

I've been really nervous about it but I've started doing twitch streams so that I can chat and be more social while doing my hobby. It's given me a lot of anxiety especially after technical problems in the first one, but actually, it's been really enjoyable getting to talk to people

I'm intending to settle a schedule soon, maybe a couple times a week. I'm super grateful to already have a number of followers! I'm hoping to eventually do gw2 once a week and also play through some of the games in my library in another slot.

If you're interested in hanging out, feel free to give me a follow! I'm really not aiming for monetary goals here, just having more fun and getting out of my shell a bit.

:) https://www.twitch.tv/beanotron

[commander-gloryforge]

coming here real quick to say i had a dream about a new gw2 expansion dropping and it was like a continuation of pof where now grenth came back to tyria to go crazy and also there were giants and it dropped on febuary 2nd.

the trailer was showing a map that kind of looked like echovald wilds architechture wise but a lot colder with mostly blue and very cool green tones and greys and whites. and you could also see two worldbosses, one was a GIANT hand that looked like it was made of porcelain or something, and the other was just a very very very big guy, similar to the guy of the cliffside fractal.

we also got to see the avatar of the pale tree at the end of the trailer and i thought she may be an important character in the story but then it said something like "download the pale tree app!" so i'm not sure what that was all about

[thegoldenavenger]

Whoops demon summoner au. Just about 2k and just an intro. I could be convinced to add more but this is what it is for now.

Liu Qingge did not fidget, and just as well: Shen Yuan was fidgeting enough for both of them. The room was dimly lit with clusters of candles around a bloody circle painted on the floor. The basement was on the small side and the stench of blood clung in the stale air.

"Okay, okay." Shen Yuan mumbled under his breath as his fingers flipped through the pages of his book. "It's just the sacrifice now."

Liu Qingge gripped the pig carcass in his hand and made to symbolically sacrifice it when Shen Yuan stopped him.

"Wait! Let me! Recheck the sigils!"

"You've gone over them three times." More, really. Liu Qingge had been the one on lookout while Shen Yuan scribbled and took photos and notes in the library they were both definitely restricted from. Then, every day leading up to today Shen Yuan spent hours bent over his journal writing and rewriting, making sure each sigil and rune meant exactly what they wanted.

"Yes but..." Shen Yuan bit his lip. "It's different."

Liu Qingge rolled his eyes. "I trust you. It's fine." He would encourage Shen Yuan's self doubts if it meant he'd give up on the entire summoning idea but Shen Yuan was determined to see the ritual through. He just wanted to be the one doing the summoning.

Luckily, the demon Shen Yuan wanted to research was Fire natured, with a metal secondary. Neither Shen Yuan nor Liu Qingge had a fire nature, but Liu Qingge's was metal and that would fare much better than Shen Yuan's Wood nature.  It was an argument they had gone over multiple times.

"You don't even like demon summons!" Shen Yuan had argued.

"It's fine. I'm better suited." Liu Qingge would not say that he'd compromise many of his long held rules to make sure Shen Yuan didn't jump into the jaws of a Fire demon named Xin Mo. At least Liu Qingge's metal nature would be able withstand the heat. Liu Qingge trusted himself that much, and Shen Yuan's scrupulous research for the rest.

If only Shen Yuan had fixated on a different demon. Something with a less foreboding name at least. But Shen Yuan had reason to believe Xin Mo could be a key in landslide research in the demon realm landscape. Whatever he meant by that. Suffice to say Shen Yuan was determined. Thus, Liu Qingge was also determined.

He decided not to give Shen Yuan any more room to quibble over minor details and dug the crude looking ritual dagger he held into the pig's throat.  Then he tossed the pig into the center of the circle. The blood spilled out around the corpse. Liu Qingge didn't pause, launching into the archaic, stilted speech Shen Yuan had made him memorise.

Shen Yuan shut up mid sentence for fear of influencing the incantation, but Liu Qingge could see the outraged look from the corner of his eye.

The summoning circle flared as the candles dimmed, a dense smoke filling the center of the circle. Low hissing started, a deep buzz that resonated in Liu Qingge's chest.  He finished the incantation and the incorporeal demon's hazy form spread outwards. Testing the boundaries of the circle. Like ink in a bowl of water it's thin edges curled around the form of the circle, twisting in little fascinating fractals.

Liu Qingge met Shen Yuan's eyes.

Then he stepped into the first ring.

The demon didn't have features as concrete as eyes, but Liu Qingge felt the full weight of its focus shift upon him anyways. An ethereal voice like shale falling along a cliffside echoed in the basement.

"So this is the little mortal who wants to play?"

The smokey form of the demon gathered into a vaguely humanoid shape in front of Liu Qingge. They were separated by the thin circle of protection Shen Yuan had drawn. Liu Qingge stared at where he supposed the demon's eyes ought to be.

"Will you show yourself?" He asked.

"Why would I do that?" The question could be mocking, but it was delivered in a honeyed tone. If Liu Qingge had even an ounce less self preservation he could be persuaded into thinking the question was honest.  Before Liu Qingge could answer, however, Shen Yuan made a quiet noise and the demon's focus slid off Liu Qingge like water.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" The demon laughed, or made a sound close enough to a laugh, as it's amorphous form drifted towards Shen Yuan. Eyes wide, Shen Yuan looked almost entranced, liable to drop his guard and be talked into something stupid like stepping into the circle. So Liu Qingge did it first.

He crossed the inner circle's barrier and used the ritual knife to cut a quick line across his palm. His blood welled immedietly with the cut, hot and red. The demon whirled, becoming dense enough it was hard to see through as it flew towards him.  Liu Qingge thought he could see the flash of fang or claw in the shadows and he steeled himself for a collision of wills.

A more practiced summoner might have a contracted demon, incorporeal but bound with, to help shield his mind from the full weight of a possession. Liu Qingge did not make contracts with demon summons, did not participate in summonings, refused to deal with demons more than using Cheng Luan to fight rogue incarnated targets.  That didn't mean he had no experience with this battle.

Liu Qingge held his hand out, his blood running bright against his skin. He leaned on his metal nature, like reinforcing a fence with steel supports. Sometimes he envisioned it like a coating of liquid silver over his skeleton lending him strength.  Calling on this, trusting in his own ability to withstand whatever heat this demon wanted to throw at him, he made his deal.

"My blood for your covenant."

"Qingge—" Shen Yuan's voice, panicked, was drowned out by the hissing of the demon.

"You want to play this game?" The demon's low voice asked. "Against me?"

"My blood," Liu Qingge repeated, "for your covenant."

The words were as ancient as the study of demons, and as such did hold a fair amount of power in their own right. Still, they weren't very precise. Shen Yuan, along with the ritual summoning he'd recited earlier, had meticulously written a bulletproof contract Liu Qingge had been meant to bind Xin Mo with. It was just so wordy though, and with more negotiation and words the less power there was to command. In order to just hold this demon's attention, Liu Qingge had to lean on the power of tradition and ritual.

The voice that had sounded bemused started to shade darker. "Imagine, a mortal, barely a breath's length of life when held to mine, a candle next to my flame, dares." The hazy apparition drew closer to Liu Qingge, the buzz of its power raising the fine hairs on his arm.

"My blood for your covenant." He squeezed his fist as he repeated these words, and the fresh pulse of blood seemed to incite the demon.

"You want my covenant then? My name?" It felt as though a shadowy limb reached out and gripped Liu Qingge's arm. Pressure closed down around him, but he tensed and withstood it, even as the blood dripped down his wrist.

"Give it to me." He answered, boldly.

He couldn't tell if the taste of blood at the back of his mouth was part of the name, but the fullbody heat wave was. His body flushed so hot with his blood that he felt it tingling in his extremities, the way he only ever felt when so furious that splitting his knuckles hour after hour at the gym could barely temper it.

It was, on the surface, exactly how one could imagine a demon named Xin Mo to feel. He leaned back into himself and his core to ground himself, letting the heat wash over him. Letting the rage course through. He had been angry before and he had learned how to breathe through it and let it go.  Except that what should be passing through him, what should be working with his metal nature to make him more flexible, was creeping into his joints. Locking them.

Even if he were to be overwhelmed by the demon's power and will, which he wouldn't be, he shouldn't feel paralyzed... he should feel liquefied, melted down. He inhaled sharply. Instead, he felt almost brittle. Like the fire wasn't heating him at all.

He thought, abruptly, of sinking his fingers into dough heated over the stove. As a child, eager to help, he had dug into the steaming ball ready to knead it. He'd been warned that it was hot but his small hands had frozen—the dough felt cold at its heart. Paradoxical, like when hypothermia made the body feel overheated.

It was like the earth cracked under him—a shift in perspective that had him reeling. His fingers were stiff, numb as static traveled up his arms in waves. With the new understanding he no longer could perceive the name as hot, or even warm, instead he was trapped in a blistering cold.

Dread crept up inside of him and he briefly thought that he should have let Shen Yuan and his wooden nature handle this. The cold only ever left him sharp and brittle. Shen Yuan managed to seem charming even in winter; red-nosed and endearing when he pulled off his gloves so he could use his phone better, leaving them for Liu Qingge to find and return.

The thought knocked him out of the freeze just enough. Like hell he'd have Shen Yuan put himself at risk just because of a little cold. As if fire was the only crucible metal went through, when quenching was just as important.

What had at first felt like heat and rage had revealed itself to be cold and fear. He could work with that. Being flexible and breathing through it was not the best defense any longer. You had to shut cold out, you had to overcome fear. He could do both, and with that, the demon's name fit perfectly in his mouth.

The approximation he could say out loud wasn't a true reflection of the demon's name, but it was good enough, close enough, that Liu Qingge could wind power into it. He repeated for a final time, "My blood for your covenant, Luo Binghe." With all the draw that he could summon upon the demon's true name.

There was the impression of surprised blinking, the demon pulled back just a hair. Then the apparition fell into itself, condensing into a wash of bubbling black shadow until finally it incarnated on the physical plane.

The demon incarnated was humanoid, with long inky hair. It was crouched, it's limbs were long, jointed weirdly like an animal or insect; something inhuman in their articulation. It's nails were sharp, a killer spur on each dewclaw wickedly curved in a scythe shape. It had a long thick tail and leathery bat wings that were mantled over its shoulders.

When it lifted its head its black eyes seemed confused.

"No one has ever actually understood my name before." It said. Incarnation had rendered its voice low and rich, with a subtle dual harmonization. It stood slowly, it's tail lashing as it found a balance on new limbs. It's eyes met Liu Qingge’s and stayed locked to him as it approached gaining a confidence in each step.

Liu Qingge still held his hand out in offering.

The demon reached out its own hand, curling its claws around Liu Qingge's wrist. It's thumb swiped at the rivulet of blood over his skin. This close, Liu Qingge could see that its eyes were actually a deep, dark red. Idly, he wondered if they would flash in the light like a wolf's.

It drew Liu Qingge's hand to its mouth, its lips black and parted to let fangs peak between them. Liu Qingge could almost hear Shen Yuan's voice but couldn't exactly make out any words. "I accept your sacrifice." The demon said and turned its head just enough that it's nose nuzzled against the thin skin of his hand. Then it's mouth fit over his cut, its wet tongue lapping over his blood.

Power rushed through him: a circuit closing.

They were bound.

[familylightfox]

With the power of the Chaos Emerald coursing through her veins, Harmony felt invincible. Never in her dreams did she think that one day she would be able to wield them in such a way, yet here she was. The color of her fur threw her off. The pastel yellow and purple colors replacing her powder blue and indigo respectfully would take some getting used to, but she didn't have too much time to linger on it.

She didn't even have time to register the sound of fluttering wings behind her before she caught a fist in midair.

“That ain't gonna work this time…” Teal eyes narrowed as she pushed the titan backward with one hand. It hadn’t expected the teen to be so much stronger. Then again, neither did she, but she wasn’t about to dwell on it when she had a job to do. 

Defeat the titan and save her friends.

Harmony rushed in while it was slightly off balance and delivered her own full-bodied punch. The impact alone sent the titan reeling back, staggering to remain standing as the teen closed the space with speed she never thought possible. Each punch sounded explosive, sending blasts of air outwards and beyond.

Already, she could see the metal denting underneath her fist, could hear the screech of… 

Pain? It was a robot… wasn’t it? 

The sound had stopped her from delivering the next blow. 

If not for Chip’s Bracelet, which surrounded her in a shield, she would have been swatted from the air. Instead, she bounced off the cliffside and shook her head. The titan closed the space between them, fists coming together towards where she stood. A hand went up, the shield around her expanding just enough to bounce the attack back, and it fizzled out as she launched upwards. 

Clenching her right fist, the uppercut she delivered shot her opponent straight into the air, where she followed. The speed in which she flew, the howl that echoed off their makeshift arena walls, and the sonic boom that exploded outwards from the Titan as she pierced straight through its chest into the open air—it all happened in a near flash of light.

As she turned to watch the titan's body explode into digital fractals, the teen was flung into...

Was it a memory?

Maybe.

It was like watching an old video recording—a chaos-like being calling out in distress.

[No. We’ll Find ANOTHER WAY!]

Looking around, the teen couldn't find the source of what caused it—just an empty valley. Once more, that disembodied voice spoke from the heavens. Again, the cryptic message gave her no real answers about how to save her friends, but at least she had a direction.

Harmony frowned but made her way down to the ground. She could see where Tangle had appeared, running towards her with wide eyes. 

“That was amazing! You were so badass, and you look it too!” At least now, still floating a few feet off the ground, the teen could have a chance to actually look at herself. The power still flowed within her body with an unfamiliar buzz, but it was comfortable—comfortable enough that she could use it to find the rest of their friends and get rid of the titans along the way. 

“’S weird. I’ve never been able t’ use the emerald before.” She smiled, clenching her fists in the process. “But I bet when I beat the rest o’ ‘em, you and everybody else’ll go back t’ normal.”

“Can’t hurt to try. I’ll stay here and see if I can learn more from these Koco guys. Kick some ass for me.” And with that, Tangle watched as Harmony took the sky. The next island wasn’t far from where they were and was even faster in the air. Such a freedom that so few ever got to experience. 

If only she had been paying enough attention to see the laser strike from the ground of the next island. The sudden shock forced the emeralds from her body and scattered them. 

Emerald eyes widened as the ground was now rapidly approaching. “SHIT!”

[menotthatkindoforc]

HELLA LAST MINUTE CALL TO SEE IF ANYONE IS DOWN FOR CLIFFSIDE FRACTAL WITH ME AND @tchaikovsgay HELP ME GET THE LAST THING I NEED FOR THE FIRST PART OF THE ASTRALARIA COLLECTION

[gglitchshit]

cliffside fractal but harder

[fingfamily-blog-blog]

First Days in Manado - Scuba Training

I'm in the middle of my week in Manado, and I can't report too much on anything except PADI Scuba Diving training. Manado looks great, palm forests, volcanos, islands, even the city is less grungy than, say Malang. Looks like the majority here are Christian, far fewer hijabs. But in all honesty, I've been laser-focused on the on-line and actual-water training for a proper PADI certification. I've spent at least 16 hours with the on-line program, reading, making notes (30 pages so far), taking quizzes, taking tests - basically sitting in my room at all decent hours of the day, working on my computer. Of course, I'm learning quite a bit, but much of it is hard to fathom without the actual-water training, which started yesterday, in a swimming pool (at least 6 hours in the pool). I have to say it's humbling to have to go through all this stuff to learn a new thing. I'm not a technician. I don't like following instructions. I don't like people to see me make mistakes. I don't like being told I'm doing something wrong, or to calm down. And all of these happen necessarily with scuba training because it's so different from anything I've ever done. And nobody learns how to swim with a 15 pound wet-suit, a BCD vest with four tubes running out of it, a densely heavy air-cylinder on one's back, and all the risks and coordinations one must learn, in one day. Not possible. So, I must admit to some frustration and thoughts like, it's not worth it, I won't be doing this again. But then, as I did today, you get into the ocean, you drop 10 meters under the surface, into a completely new world, where the coral cliffs are like cities, where the citizens of the cities surround you in 360 degrees, where they are yellow and blue and iridescent, long and thin or short and stout, where loggerhead turtles laze about on the cliffside, and then wave themselves away as an angel might return to heaven. You look more closely at the coral architecture and it's got fractalic qualities, where the intricasies repeat themselves on smaller scales, leading toward infinity, and what looks like dull color from 10 meters away is really multiple burnished rainbows overlapping and meandering within and around each other. You are breathing, and equalizing (blowing the pressure out of your ears), and trying to ascend or descend smoothly. You have to keep track of the air in your cylinder. You have to make sure you're not going to end up with decompression sickness or a collapsed lung. You have to make sure you don't disturb the environment, that you don't get run over by a boat propeller (the boats sound like military attacks underwater), that you stay with your buddy. And you observe that you are in a place that you would die in otherwise without this bizarre and wondrous technology. I've been sleeping well because I'm quite tired at the end of the day. My Dive Resort, Thalassa Manado, prides themselves on their food, and I must say it is good, high quality, simple presentation, heavy on the protein and starch. It's also been almost entirely European preparation (one morning there was nasi goreng - fried rice). The proprietor of the place, a Dutch woman, has been in Manado for 27 years, and she has established a dive school for the locals who want to make careers in the hospitality industry here. It's not the busiest tourist place, but I've seen that she, even in my limited time here, has had a profound influence on her community. The people who work here are just decent folks, no anxiety to serve, no bowing or scraping, no distance, just human connections. The slogan here is "Where guests leave as friends," and it rings true - thus far at least. But, getting back to the humbling, it also entails facing up to one's own limitations, or at least how others perceive them. My Dive Instructor, Davin, is a nice guy and a patient teacher. He's put up with some of my uptightness. But he also told the proprietor, Simone, about my uptight character. So when I sat with Simone at lunch today - and after we had become more familiar with each other - she asked, "Can I ask a personal question?" Well, sure, I guess. "I see your hands are shaking..." I was eating satay (grilled meat on a stick, with sauce all over it) and I can't always stick the thing in my mouth, so I was using a fork to yank it off, but worried that I would toss pieces of sauced meat all over. So some tension, some restraint. It was an honest observation, but her conclusion was, "...whether you had some condition..." Well, no I'm just trying not to make a mess. (I could probably learn a new technique of eating satay, but I don't eat much of it.) She said, "Because, Davin told me that you had shown some predilection for tension (I forget what words she used, but I could use 'uptightness, high-blood pressure, anxiety')" Ah, yes, the employee tells the boss about the customer. I said, "Yes, it's true that I've expressed some frustration to Davin, but I don't have a physical ailment." I put my hands out, "They don't shake." Ugh. I continued, "I'd say the source of that frustration has been linguistic. His accent is hard for me to follow. His English is limited. I admit I'm not a great student, but, for example, today he mixed up 'above' and 'under' the water." Generally mixing up those words - when you're on land - means very little. But when your Dive Instructor is confused about those words, well then, you might just end up taking a big fat swallow of tepid salt water when you didn't need to. I was diplomatic with Simone. I complimented Davin on his patience with me, and Simone implied that we all have our quirks as learners, and the conversation ended amicably enough. But there you go, to learn means to admit vulnerability, to need others. It's not easy but it's important for people to get out of their comfort zone and learn despite their preference to think they know it all. To allow oneself to be humbled, it might not feel good at first, but it's likely to be useful later. Oh, and Alice's nephew Noah and his wife Zainab have just brought a baby boy into the world. Congrats to them in Virginia!!!

[solarpunkparadigm]

Solana beach Fletcher Cove

[dorenarox]

See? I can compensate for a group, that's what makes me such a valuable ally! :3

[dasozelotvonnebenan]

Played a bunch of fractals again and I gotta ask. Is the Cliffside giant something from guild wars 1 or is that guy original. Because i really want to have a map one day where he hangs out.

[ambroseteasers]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟏𝟑𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐈𝐑𝐂𝐋𝐄 ...

the  hallowed  halls  of  st.  ambrose  university  had  been  blessed  by  the  monsignor  ambrose  ,  himself  ,  with  wishes  for  nothing  but  good  tidings  &  prosperity  for  any  student  divine  enough  to  take  to  the  institution  &  dive  headfirst  into  the  plethora  of  knowledge  that  can  be  found  –  and  though  the  apostles  who  followed  closely  at  the  monsignor’s  heels  were  feverish  with  joy  at  his  endeavors  ,  there  remained  eyes  full  of  envy  &  greed  ,  watching  with  spiteful  intent  until  it  came  time  to  strike.  word  of  mouth  is  a  finicky  beast  ,  whispering  &  tittering  behind  raised  hands  to  carry  a  legacy  that  ought  to  be  dead  &  buried  six  feet  under  …  six  feet  closer  to  hell.  but  as  the  stories  persist  ,  so  ,  too  ,  does  the  legacy  of  what  has  been  dubbed  the  13th  circle.  they  say  that  the  monsignor’s  brother  ,  frederick  ambrose  ,  had  always  been  a  figure  that  had  fallen  short  in  the  dark  shadows  cast  by  his  own  flesh  &  blood  …  and  while  the  monsignor  moved  to  push  his  legacy  further  &  further  with  each  stretch  of  land  he  conquered  for  the  university  ,  frederick  watched  with  a  scowl  and  bitterness  growing  in  his  heart.

frederick  had  always  been  the  kind  of  man  who  followed  the  truth  of  science  –  far  before  his  divinity-driven  brother  could  ever  deign  to  lift  a  book  &  flip  its  weathered  pages.  to  pursue  the  beauty  of  scholarship  was  a  truth  he  had  latched  onto  without  fail  while  the  fanaticism  of  a  catholic  upbringing  forced  those  around  him  to  besmirch  the  truth  behind  the  sciences  ,  claiming  that  such  nonsense  worked  directly  against  the  very  words  of  god  ,  Himself  …  and  while  frederick  fought  tooth  &  nail  to  show  that  the  empirical  truths  of  the  world  weren’t  etched  in  hebrew  but  instead  in  the  fractals  of  a  snowflake  ,  in  the  indisputable  honesty  of  numbers  …  the  monsignor  would  only  watch  with  a  sad  look  in  his  eyes.  

( tw for : death , murder , demonic rituals. )

not  one  defense  ,  not  one  call  to  defend  the  only  flesh  &  blood  ,  the  only  brother  he  had  …  only  to  rise  from  the  ashes  and  proclaim  that  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  is  a  god-given  right.  to  watch  the  sheep  and  other  god-fearing  ilk  that  nipped  at  the  monsignor’s  heels  day  in  &  day  out  ignited  a  fury  so  deep  &  so  visceral  within  frederick’s  ribcage  that  he  turned  to  the  only  alternative  his  mind  could  seek  after  being  driven  near  half-mad  from  his  rage.  

they  say  that  frederick  turned  his  back  to  god  and  summoned  something  from  hell  –  something  greedy  &  hungry  &  ravenous.  mammon.  one  of  the  seven  princes  of  hell  ,  the  very  epitome  of  greed  &  wealth  &  corrupted  fortune  …  it  came  to  frederick  in  the  dead  of  night  after  he  had  spoken  in  tongues  with  the  blood  of  chickens  staining  his  palms.  

the  slaughter  wouldn’t  be  enough  ,  mammon  warned.  if  you  wish  for  me  to  serve  you  ,  you  must  make  a  pact.  thirteen  sacrifices  you  will  bring  me  –  and  only  after  the  thirteenth  has  been  slain  will  i  provide  you  with  what  you  seek.

in  such  an  era  ,  missing  townsfolk  were  of  little  worry  ;  women  &  children  often  grew  frail  and  ill,  men  grew  drunk  &  weary  ,  collapsing  down  the  cliffsides  only  to  be  washed  away  by  the  unrelenting  waves.  mothers  &  fathers  aged  until  consumption  ate  them  from  the  inside  out  …  securing  thirteen  victims  was  far  simpler  than  frederick  had  anticipated  –  each  of  which  he  had  slain  in  the  heart  of  the  welsh  woods  in  what  would  now  be  dubbed  the  east  side  of  st.  ambrose’s  campus.  it  took  7  days  and  nights  to  complete  his  task  but  with  shaking  hands  drenched  to  the  bone  in  blood  that  was  not  his  own  ,  frederick  shouted  –  mammon  ,  i  have  done  what  you  asked.  give  me  the  greatness  that  i  was  robbed  of  ,  give  me  the  greatness  that  my  brother  had  stolen  from  me.  

mammon  came  forward  and  with  a  clawed  hand  ,  he  reached  for  frederick.  stricken  with  both  awe  &  with  fear  ,  the  man  fell  to  his  knees  before  the  grotesque  being  &  as  its  touch  finally  breached  the  flesh  &  bone  of  a  mere  mortal  ,  frederick  cried  out  in  his  anguish.  whether  it  was  mere  moments  or  an  eternity  that  passed  not  even  frederick  was  certain  –  but  when  he  came  to  ,  the  thirteen  bodies  he  had  acquired  were  nowhere  to  be  seen.  no  sign  of  mammon  –  not  a  breath  or  fern  out  of  place  in  the  undergrowth  …  but  as  frederick  stripped  his  dressings  ,  he  found  something  horrific  ,  something  infernal  –  and  eight-sided  sigil  carved  into  his  chest.  a  warning  –  or  a  parting  gift  ?  frederick  wasn’t  certain  …  quietly  ,  he  pressed  on  ,  unsure  of  what  to  make  of  the  encounter.

mammon  came  to  him  in  his  dreams  (  or  was  it  his  nightmares  )  to  instruct  frederick  to  gather  12  more  of  his  ilk  ,  to  bring  them  together  –  it  is  now  the  prince  of  hell’s  turn  to  make  good  on  the  pact  he  had  forged  in  blood  &  hellfire.  frederick  gathered  his  own  infernal  ,  blasphemous  apostles  amongst  his  brother’s  ranks  ,  the  most  cunning  &  most  capable.  he  delivered  parchment  letters  begging  them  to  come  forth  ,  lest  they  be  branded  by  the  sigil  he  had  been  bestowed  with  ,  himself.  it  was  a  blood  pact  ,  he  warned  ,  imprinting  his  own  bloodied  thumb  to  the  paper  to  seal  the  promise.  and  only  those  with  the  strongest  of  resolve  could  join  him.  he  gathered  his  followers  and  in  the  courtyard  ,  as  the  clock  strikes  midnight  ,  mammon  came  forward  once  more.  

a  promise  has  been  made  &  your  pleas  heard  ;  carry  on  my  tradition  of  selecting  thirteen  followers  &  cement  the  pact  in  blood  and  you  will  come  across  the  most  unimaginable  greatness.  you  are  now  bound  by  blood  ,  banded  by  soul.  bound  by  blood  ,  banded  by  soul.  LIGATUS  SANGUINE  ,  LIGATUS  ANIMA  …

the  story  of  the  original  thirteen  has  long  since  been  lost  ,  forgotten  even  by  word  of  mouth  –  but  the  testament  to  greatness  rings  true.  rumored  members  of  the  13th  circle  throughout  the  centuries  have  been  known  to  achieve  unimaginable  wealth  ,  luck  beyond  their  years  ,  riches  that  not  one  single  person  can  fathom.  fame  &  glory  falls  upon  their  laps  without  a  flutter  of  one’s  lashes  –  and  though  the  stories  carried  on  by  generations  seem  to  reference  an  unspeakable  evil  ,  the  newer  generations  are  quick  to  seize  the  promise  of  newfound  wealth  with  after  all  ,  stories  of  demonic  summonings  &  possessions  ,  of  bloodshed  and  murder  ,  are  nothing  more  than  tales  meant  to  silence  children  into  behaving  …  

the  official  story  ,  as  reported  by  the  university  itself  in  a  rare  break  in  their  oath  to  silence  against  the  beast  residing  in  its  own  halls  ,  considers  the  13th  circle  to  be  nothing  more  than  the  children  of  the  wealthy  playing  a  cruel  game  of  status  amongst  their  peers.  an  unrecognized  organization  with  no  official  university  standing  ,  the  circle  is  and  always  will  be  nothing  more  than  a  pretentious  game  of  tea-party  for  those  with  more  money  than  sense.  hazing  and  bullying  were  inevitable  –  and  those  who  dared  to  provide  the  circle  with  anything  more  than  a  passing  glance  would  only  fan  the  flames  of  their  overly  inflated  egos  …

the  13th  circle  ,  as  it  stands  ,  has  always  been  a  society  shrouded  in  secrets.  whether  one  chooses  to  believe  the  horrific  details  of  frederick’s  faustian  contract  or  the  university  proclamation  that  the  circle  is  little  more  than  an  overgrown  boating  club  is  up  to  you.  after  nearly  20  years  of  silence  ,  two  decades  of  not  one  breath  nor  whispering  of  where  the  circle  had  gone  ,  they  rise  again  from  the  bloodied  ashes  of  their  predecessors.

and  this  time  ,  they  are  here  to  stay.

[gw2-affirmations]

I rarely do fractals, but it seems like, without fail, if I do them the daily is going to include Cliffside. Suggestion for something like "I won't have to do Cliffside fractal again today for the daily."

wishing you luck!

(I won't have to do Cliffside fractal again today for the daily

There are plenty of other options and I am lucky)

[charrwybie]

Wybie got his GIFT OF GLIDING today! I am working in a surprisingly organized manner and like goal-orientedly lately and am enjoying the ride and doing new stuff while at it! Can you believe today was my first Chak Gerend event? Or technically second but the firts time was a failure bc there were like two people and I didn't also know that that was it lmao. I also did the mini-dungeon in Dredgehaunt Cliffs, and now am only missing Zinn's Study Guide and the Cliffside fractal from the first Astralaria collection! I'm working steadily on Zinn's guide so the fractal is what this will sit on for a while probably. xD

[achromant]

cliffside fractal

[redantsunderneath]

folklore

fokalore is Taylor Swift’s Darkness on the Edge of Town – the first thing you notice about this record is the point of view(s).  The usual approach to any Swift song is to assume the subjective orientation is all her’s and then to ask, situationally, who/what/where is she singing about. Lover took this to its natural conclusion – a cultivated megalomania where her relationship to her partners and fans expand to cover the nature of America itself.  Here, however, even on a first listen, it is obvious that a number of the songs can’t be her, and on a second you start to doubt that any are.  The jump here is most analogous to the jump between Springsteen’s early career magnum opus Born to Run, which brought his epic street folk tales of his life lived in and around The City to full flower, and the southern literature infused “stories of other lives lived” of Darkness on the Edge of Town that carves out a broader American mythology from the third person and the suggestion that these are things that have resonance to his life, that none of the songs are about him but all of them together are, somehow.  The album seems tied together like something between Everything that Rises Must Converge and Visit from the Goon Squad.  

Wait, no... folklore is Taylor Swift’s Inland Empire – structure is all important in a serious TS effort, which this is.  1989’s cosine wave of relationship’s downhill slope and Kubler-Ross recovery (Fire Walk with Me’s horrific fall and redemption) and Lover’s 1st 2/3 exploration of the symbolic order ending in a crash with the last 1/3 a negotiation with the real (Mulholland Drive) give way to something rhizomal (more specifically fractal) with meaning derived from connections like a box of photos from multiple people whose stories connect in variable ways, forming a vortex of a story no individual part of which is entirely consistent with any other.  The central story, that keeps echoing around and out is of a love triangle with an infidelity that acquires a folk tale resonance and haunts everything.   This would also describe Inland Empire.

There is no dearth of online commentary on connections to her life.  She bought a mansion in Rhode Island, and last great american dynasty is about the history of the house, with its Jazz age parties and imagery, and the mad woman at the center living her party forever lifestyle. epiphany is about her grandfather’s war experiences as related to current heathcare work in the time of COVID.  Inez, James and Betty (the named characters in the central story) are the names of Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively’s daughters.  invisible string, the only definitive song from her non-hoax POV is full of allusions to her relationship with Joe Alwyn. The opening track, the 1, has been shouted from the rooftop by the Swift camp as being about “a friend” not her, which you would be hard pressed to know is you weren’t putting in the extranoematic effort.  But the core trio of songs, the most “character” based are cardigan, august, and betty, which tell the core of a story about three teenagers from each POV (the cheated on, the cheated with, and the cheater respectively), two of which have been in love for a while, who threaten to fall apart after one has a fling with a third party, and who may make it work after all. It is significantly unspecified what gender James is.

Around this swarm another group of songs that seem to apply, whether they are strictly about the same people or not.  seven seems like backstory for the triangle with some Swift specificity.  this is me trying seems like a version of an apology in the story, but with whiskey that suggests it’s happening to someone older.  illicit affairs is about the fling, but it began in expensive rooms (though it ended ended up in the mall parking lots of the core songs). mad woman serves to connect last great american dynasty to my tears ricochet (which is pointedly from the POV of the tormentor of a Swift-like figure, but she’s identifying with both) which also feels like the unnamed other woman of the main triangle’s ultimate fate. Again, no genders.

The unities are created with a few tidy motifs, threads through the work that sometimes reach back to other works.  The roaring 20s/Great Gatsby (remember This is Why We Can’t have nice things and the 4th of July parties), how “they” think the young know nothing, the hero being gone (from “the film”) so what’s the story now, parking lots, cobblestones, streetlamps, summer as a liminal frame, axes and knives, warmth for the ex that has a family now, kingdoms, cliffsides, the idea of an agitating presence being a feature-not-bug, blue referring to her boyfriend and sadness both… It’s a nice web.

What about the remaining tracks?  exile is a biblical abstraction of the broken relationship; it connects to everything (it’s the rabbit scenes from Inland Empire). mirrorball is an example of one of my favorite TS things, the song about how her “self” may not exist since she only exists as a reflective, fragmented surface (this directly contrasts to the project of the rest of the album). Epiphany is a parallel drawing of a line from the early 20th century to today, a nod to real death as a contrast to emotional death. Invisible string is the only “true” song on the album.  Peace is an attempt to put the set of ideas to bed, however uncomfortably.

But the bracketing (first and last) songs are interesting.  The album was complete, the story goes, and she wrote the two in an evening to put a parenthesis around the whole project.  On a first listen, you can’t help but ask “is this a breakup album? Are her and Joe done?”  The last song would seem to underscore this.  Seemingly written as her, she existentially wails about “your” faithless love being the only hoax she believes in. But, as is the case so often here, the identity is unclear. Is it him?  Her audience? Herself?  But the title of the song is hoax. It’s just vague enough that you can suspect it’s about the search for meaning through the process of songwriting, and that everything you’ve just heard is a lie but is still oh so true. You are prepared for this after the first song, the 1, which seems to be about her, and would act to unify the album under the umbrella of her attempt at distancing from an event at a 4thof July party (her summer parties at her RI house were legendary), but we have been repeatedly told in the press that it is in fact not about her but about a friend (Selena Gomez?).  The framing of opening with a bait and switch and ending with “hoax” calls into question the reality of everything.

Moments snap together like magnets lego.  The album is deeply retropseudonostalgic, accent on the algos. She’s sorting through other people’s stories that speak to her (that feel like a piece of her), putting on her theory of mind hat and trying to compassionately inhabit them,  and building an elaborate fantasy of heartbreak and healing that she knows people will project onto her. The gender is left fluid, and the album doesn't have lesbian overtones as much as is completely identity agnostic.  The line through mirrorball and hoax is the axis the album rotates around, producing an inversion of her obsession – instead of her subjectivity dominating to the extent that she doesn’t exist except as a conscious hologram implied by the event horizon of her public image, being cut off from the feedback loop has forced her to inhabit the perspectives of others that occupy all points in a large story in which she can see a sketch of herself from the outside.  

[jaynsandy]

Sandy and I pulled up stakes and moved 10 miles down the road on Sunday (4/19). We're now at Cliffside RV park onboard NAS Whidbey Island, WA and will be here for at least another month hoping for life to loosen up a bit. We wonder if we'll make it down to Bryce Canyon for the summer. We're thankful that's all we're really worried about. Life could be much more complicated.

This campground has been a bucket list item for us ever since we saw it five years ago. It's one of the most beautiful places we've parked. The pads are arranged stadium style so the view of Puget Sound is never obscured. The park has been landscaped with a variety of beautiful flower beds and precisely trimmed green spaces by Ken (the camp host) for the past seven years.

The real reason we wanted to stay here is the Sound. Sandy and I have come to the conclusion that we're water people. There's something about this humble liquid that calms us whether we're on the shore of a lake, paddling down a river or sitting on a beach. Maybe it's the way water takes the path of least resistance. Maybe it's the unstoppable soothing rythym of the surf. Maybe it's the way sunsets are reflected in the waters of a lake.

With all that aside we really like beaches. From Virginia Beach to Huntington Beach, CA to Myrtle Beach to the Florida Gulf shore beach on Tyndall AFB or the floury sand beaches of New Smyrna, FL we've always been up for days at the beach.

This, right here, is the best beach I've ever been on. There isn't anything that really stands out. The sand is just sand, the water is cold, seaweed and driftwood are scattered at the high tide mark and there are rocks everywhere. Big deal right? I bet you're thinking that the only thing that's really special about this place is just how unattractive it sounds. Turns out that everything works together to make this a special place.

We've seen otters, sea lions and dolphins offshore. Ducks are constantly diving and bobbing back up in the surf. The surf and sand have sculpted and smoothed large rocks into really beautiful fractal surfaces, smaller rocks have been tumbled to smoothness and their random coloring really stands out Evergreen trees stand on the cliffs above the beach. We can see Washington's Olympic Mountains and a number of islands in the distance The driftwood, as it dries and bleaches, adds another element of random beauty.

What makes this place so special is the diverse nature of the landscape. It's not just a seascape of water, horizon and surf. It is a conglomeration of different elements that work together, in gentle opposition, to create an overall scene of real beauty that is much more than it's parts.

This place is so magical because it's a perfect example of the beauty diversity can achieve given time and opportunity. Maybe society works the same way?