#drain camera gold coast

[commercialplumbingspecialist]

Gold Coast Plumbing Inspections: Why They're Essential for Homeowners and Businesses

The Gold Coast, with its stunning beaches, vibrant lifestyle, and booming real estate market, is an ideal place to live and do business. However, amidst the sun and surf, homeowners and business operators must ensure their properties are well-maintained, especially when it comes to plumbing. Plumbing issues can quickly escalate, causing significant damage and costly repairs. This is where regular Gold Coast Plumbing Inspections come into play.

What is a Plumbing Inspection?

A plumbing inspection is a comprehensive evaluation of a property’s entire plumbing system. It involves checking all components, including pipes, drains, water heaters, and fixtures, for signs of wear, damage, or potential problems. Qualified plumbers use specialized tools such as cameras, pressure gauges, and leak detectors to assess the condition of the plumbing and identify any hidden issues.

Why Plumbing Inspections are Essential on the Gold Coast

Preventing Major Problems

The warm, humid climate of the Gold Coast can accelerate the wear and tear on plumbing systems. Regular inspections help detect early signs of corrosion, blockages, or leaks before they develop into major issues. Early detection means you can address problems before they result in extensive damage or water wastage.

Ensuring Compliance with Local Regulations

The Gold Coast, like the rest of Queensland, has specific plumbing codes and regulations that must be followed. Regular plumbing inspections ensure that your plumbing system complies with these standards, helping you avoid fines or complications when selling or renovating your property.

Protecting Property Value

For homeowners, a well-maintained plumbing system can significantly impact property value. Prospective buyers are more likely to be interested in a property with a recently inspected and certified plumbing system, knowing it reduces the risk of future issues.

Reducing Water Bills

Even minor leaks can lead to significant water loss over time, increasing your water bills. Plumbing inspections help identify and fix leaks, ensuring your water usage is efficient and reducing unnecessary expenses.

Extending the Life of Your Plumbing System

Regular maintenance, including inspections, extends the lifespan of your plumbing system. By addressing minor issues promptly, you prevent them from escalating into more significant problems that could require extensive repairs or replacements.

What to Expect During a Plumbing Inspection

When you schedule a plumbing inspection on the Gold Coast, a licensed plumber will arrive equipped with the necessary tools to conduct a thorough evaluation. Here’s what you can typically expect:

Visual Inspection: The plumber will visually inspect all exposed pipes, fixtures, and appliances to check for signs of wear, corrosion, or leaks.

Camera Inspection: For underground or hard-to-reach pipes, a camera may be used to inspect the interior for blockages, cracks, or other issues.

Water Pressure Test: The plumber will test the water pressure to ensure it is within the normal range, as low or high pressure can indicate underlying problems.

Leak Detection: Using specialized tools, the plumber will check for hidden leaks that may not be visible during the visual inspection.

Drainage Check: The drainage system will be checked for clogs, slow drains, or other issues that could lead to backups.

Water Heater Inspection: The water heater will be inspected for signs of wear, rust, or leaks, ensuring it is operating efficiently and safely.

How Often Should You Schedule a Plumbing Inspection?

For most homeowners, scheduling a plumbing inspection every 1-2 years is sufficient. However, if you own an older property or have experienced plumbing issues in the past, you may want to schedule inspections more frequently. Businesses, particularly those in the hospitality or real estate sectors, may also benefit from more regular inspections due to the higher usage and demand on their plumbing systems.

Choosing the Right Plumbing Inspection Service on the Gold Coast

When selecting a plumbing inspection service, it’s essential to choose a licensed, experienced, and reputable plumber. Look for reviews, ask for recommendations, and ensure the plumber is familiar with Gold Coast’s local plumbing codes and regulations.

A quality inspection should be thorough, transparent, and provide you with a detailed report outlining any issues found and recommended actions. This report is invaluable in planning maintenance, budgeting for repairs, or negotiating property sales.

[seqpipeworks1]

Emergency Blocked Drains Assistance in Gold Coast: Fast, Reliable, and Expert Solutions

Blocked drains can cause significant inconvenience and disruption, especially when they occur unexpectedly. For Gold Coast residents, having access to emergency blocked drains assistance is essential to mitigate damage, maintain hygiene, and restore normalcy quickly. This article delves into the importance of immediate assistance, the expert services available, and how Gold Coast residents can benefit from these prompt solutions.

The Urgency of Blocked Drains

1. Preventing Water Damage: Blocked drains can lead to water overflow, causing damage to floors, walls, and foundations. Immediate intervention is crucial to prevent extensive water damage that can compromise the structural integrity of your home or business.

2. Maintaining Hygiene: A blocked drain can cause water and waste to back up into your property, creating unsanitary conditions. This can lead to unpleasant odors, the growth of harmful bacteria, and potential health hazards. Quick assistance ensures that these issues are addressed before they escalate.

3. Avoiding Disruption: Blocked drains can disrupt daily activities, from simple household chores to business operations. Emergency assistance ensures minimal disruption, allowing you to resume your normal routine as swiftly as possible.

Expert Emergency Blocked Drains Services

1. 24/7 Availability: Emergencies don't adhere to a schedule, which is why many blocked drain services in Gold Coast offer 24/7 availability. Whether it's the middle of the night or during a busy holiday, expert technicians are ready to respond to your call.

2. Rapid Response Times: Time is of the essence when dealing with blocked drains. Professional services prioritize rapid response times to ensure that help arrives as quickly as possible, reducing the risk of damage and inconvenience.

3. Advanced Diagnostic Tools: Expert technicians utilize advanced diagnostic tools such as CCTV drain cameras to identify the exact location and cause of the blockage. This technology allows for precise and efficient intervention, minimizing guesswork and unnecessary digging.

4. Effective Unblocking Techniques: From high-pressure water jetting to mechanical drain snakes, professional services employ a variety of effective techniques to clear blockages swiftly. These methods are designed to handle even the most stubborn obstructions, restoring your drainage system to optimal functionality.

Benefits of Professional Emergency Assistance

1. Expertise and Experience: Professional plumbers possess the expertise and experience needed to tackle any drain blockage efficiently. Their knowledge ensures that the issue is resolved correctly the first time, preventing recurring problems.

2. Comprehensive Services: Emergency blocked drain services often provide comprehensive solutions, including drain cleaning, repair, and maintenance. This all-encompassing strategy guarantees that every facet of your drainage system is fully taken care of.

3. Peace of Mind: Knowing that reliable help is just a phone call away provides peace of mind. You can rest assured that any drain-related emergencies will be handled promptly and professionally, protecting your property and health.

4. Long-Term Prevention: In addition to resolving the immediate blockage, professional services often offer advice and solutions for long-term prevention. This includes tips on proper drain usage and maintenance to avoid future emergencies.

Choosing the Right Emergency Service in Gold Coast

When selecting an emergency blocked drains service in Gold Coast, consider the following factors:

1. Reputation and Reviews: Seek for providers that have a solid track record and satisfied clients.  This indicates reliability and customer satisfaction.

2. Certification and Licensing: Ensure the service is certified and licensed. This guarantees that the technicians are qualified and adhere to industry standards.

3. Transparent Pricing: Choose a service that offers transparent pricing with no hidden fees. Understanding the costs upfront helps you make informed decisions.

4. Local Presence: Opt for a service with a local presence in Gold Coast. Local companies can typically respond faster and are familiar with common drainage issues in the area.

Conclusion

Emergency blocked drain assistance is a vital service for Gold Coast residents, offering fast, reliable, and expert solutions to prevent damage, maintain hygiene, and minimize disruption. By choosing professional services with advanced tools and techniques, homeowners and businesses can ensure their drainage systems are restored quickly and efficiently. Don’t let a blocked drain disrupt your life—rely on emergency assistance to keep your property safe and functional.

[dosomeplumbing]

DRAINAGE SERVICE BRISBANE Do Some Plumbing is your local Logan plumbing contractor specialising in domestic, commercial, industrial and rural installations and maintenance. We provide quality workmanship, excellent communication and competitive pricing, our services include blocked drains, burst pipes, hot water services and many other plumbing services.

Servicing Brisbane, Logan and the Gold Coast, our knowledgeable technician can work with you to find a solution to best suit your budget, needs and we will endeavour to answer any questions that you may have.

BLOCKED DRAINS BRISBANE Do Some Plumbing uses the latest technology to unblock your blocked drains fast, saving you time and money. Let us help you with drain repair today.

WE ARE BLOCKED DRAIN SPECIALISTS We understand blocked drains can happen at any time of the day or night and are an emergency! Our emergency plumbing lines are open 24/7 – click to call 0438 454 540, and one of our Brisbane plumbers will be out to help you straight away!

Our team utilises state of the art technology, including CCTV drain camera diagnostic services (including push rod and tractor), electric eel and high-pressure water jets to clear blocked drains in Brisbane quickly and efficiently.

BEST RESIDENTIAL AND COMMERCIAL BLOCKED DRAIN SPECIALISTS IN BRISBANE Commercial cleaners and other chemical companies propose a variety of methods for cleaning and unblocking drains which do not involve hiring a plumber. Some of these methods include purchasing toxic and abrasive solvents to try and dissolve the blockage. While these may work for partial drain blocks where there is a hole for the dissolved residue to seep through, this does not work for drains which are totally blocked. The result will be a mucky substance clogging the drain even further. Plumbers understand drain structure and are able to determine exactly where the bottlenecks are in the design and exactly how these can be addressed. Plumbers prefer to extract blockages instead of attempting to dissolve them. This prevents undue damage to a plumbing system which can be caused by pouring highly abrasive substances into a drain.

[myhauntedsalem]

Portland’s Shanghai Tunnels Portland, Oregon

Thousands of able-bodied men were shanghaied up and down the west coast from the 1800's well into the 1900's to provide men to work on ships. Portland, Oregon’s Underground or Shanghai Tunnels were used for this illegal activity. The Shanghai tunnels are a series of underground passageways that run from basement to basement, connecting buildings for 9 miles. They lie beneath Portland’s Old Town and downtown areas.

These tunnels were built by Chinese forced labor and were used when Portland became involved in the trade in 1850 during the California gold rush. Ships were losing their crews to the gold fields so sea captains needed the shanghai trade more than ever.

The saloons in the area were willing partners for everyone was paid off. This trade was kept quiet for years. Police officers would not enter the tunnels for they felt they were booby-trapped.

The victims were mostly transients who had no family to miss them. Loggers, cowboys, miners, seamen and sheepherders, all drifters, would drink or were drugged and then were dropped down through trap doors that each bar had installed. Most of these establishments had at least 3 of these traps.

These doors were named dead falls by the locals. They were called this not because the victims died but because they were now condemned to 3 to 6 years of working for sea captains that did not pay them.

Portland’s trade was unique for they kept a steady supply of men ready to be sold at a moments notice.

The Portland Underground motto: “There was always an able-bodied crew waiting for a captain.”

Once the victim dropped through these traps they hit a mattress where men were waiting to remove their shoes and lock them in the various small cells in the underground. These rooms had little air and the men were packed in like sardines.

Their shoes were removed because the kidnappers had spread broken glass over the tunnel floors. If they tried to escape their captors could just follow the trail of blood to find them.

The Shanghai trade boomed from 1870 until 1917. In these years the Portland Underground shanghaied over 3,000 men. Each kidnapped man was sold to a sea captain for 50 dollars.

In 1941, the Shanghai trade finally ended in Portland.

There have been many sighting of ghosts in the Shanghai Tunnels.

One area is even considered to have a portal or entrance from the other side. Apparitions are often seen walking through this area. Visitors have reported feeling a hand placed on their backs or necks. Lights go on and off, doors open and shut, and footsteps and voices are heard.

Visitors are warned that their cameras most likely will malfunction in the tunnels.

Once back up on the street level they find their cameras work again. Visitors often report their equipment’s batteries drained.

People have seen his ghost and he sometimes holds visitor’s hands.

[tiikeria]

No Roads Left to Run

Title: No Roads Left to Run Ship(s): None Rating: T Warning(s): Minor Character Death, Language Words: 3,577 words Summary: Everyone thought they knew the legend. The story of the king who wished for the go and was punished for his greed when he couldn’t eat, and when his beloved daughter was turned into a golden statue of herself. When he begged Dionysus for a reprieve from his mistake, he was given a way out: wash anything he turned to gold in a river, and they would return to the way they were.

That was how the story went, at least. The story of Midas.

It couldn’t be more wrong.

Notes: What is it, 2016? I’m writing fic? Something ain’t right. But, this is based on an AU I have with a couple of friends that we started, oh, 4 or 5 years ago. This fic was started in 2016, actually, with a certain person as Akakios. Obviously that changed.

Always, enjoy the fic and hit me up if you’d like to chat!

The rain had started to fall on the docks as the last terrified scream echoed against the concrete buildings and steel containers surrounding them, trapping them in, looming over them like a silent jury. Looming over him. His hand lowered shakily and the gold marks along his skin faded into nothingness as he let the power drain from him, no longer necessary now that the threat was eliminated.

But now…now he had a different problem. One gold couldn’t fix. One he couldn’t fix. 

As the rain became heavier and thunder rumbled in the distance he could feel their gazes on his back, and he could imagine the expressions on their faces if he would turn to look. Fear. Horror. Possibly betrayal.

He had lied for so long. Lied to them all. He had hidden who he really was under the guise of protecting them. Instead, he had only been selfish. He had lied to them because he cared. And because they cared in return. They cared for him, and not for the gold that formed from his fingertips so effortlessly. He didn’t want to lose that feeling of belonging that he hadn’t had in decades. So he lied.

And now he lost it anyway.

He couldn’t turn, couldn’t face them, their disappointment, their fear. Everyone feared him in Los Santos; they feared who he truly was, to be exact. Few feared the Fake’s Golden Boy. But many feared the God that owned the city.

No one had known that they were one and the same. Until now. Until he had no choice. Until he had to give everything up in the name of protecting them from being gunned down in a planned massacre.

At least they were alive. That was his only solace. They were still alive.

Without turning, he spoke, voice just loud enough to reach them above the rain and thunder, “I’m sorry.”

And he ran.

Everyone thought they knew the legend. The story of the king who wished for the golden touch and was punished for his greed when he couldn’t eat, and when his beloved daughter was turned into a golden statue of herself. When he begged Dionysus for a reprieve from his mistake, he was given a way out: wash anything he turned to gold in a river, and they would return to the way they were.

That was how the story went, at least. The story of Midas.

It couldn’t be more wrong.

Midas wasn’t born a king. He wasn’t even born a mortal. He was a demigod, son of Dionysus and a blind peasant woman named Theodosia. Born of trickery, when Dionysus disguised himself as the woman’s devoted husband, Akakios, as he was out to market. She only discovered the deceit afterward, but it was too late. She would birth the God’s son when the time came.

They called him Midas, and Akakios loved him as if he was his own blood. After all, the two had desperately prayed for a child and if this is how the Gods chose to grant their prayers, then so be it.

Midas grew into a curious and playful young boy before they discovered his gift. His gift of gold. He didn’t understand why the King of their small island called his Mama and Papa and him to see him. All he did was make a flower pretty and shiny for his Mama. Was he in trouble?

He would later say he was.

The King was a greedy man, always coveting the wealth of the larger islands, of the grander Kings. And he saw Midas as a way to achieve that wealth; a child who could make gold on command was his gift from the Gods. So, he offered the peasant parents a deal: he would ensure they had food on the table, and clothes on their backs, as long as the child would create for him.

Without a way to truly say no, they agreed, and Midas went into the employ of their King. He still remained with his beloved Mama and Papa, growing stronger every day as he helped with their modest farm. But the calls to create were getting more frequent and more elaborate, and Theodosia and Akakios worried when it would no longer be enough.

The answer came on the eve of Midas’ thirteenth birthday, Akakios out at market two days away, with a promise to bring his son a wonderful gift. The King had not called in a few days, which had become a bit of an oddity, but they thought nothing of it. If he didn’t call, Midas stayed home, and stayed strong. Too much creating and he would grow tired and weak.

They should have worried more.

The knock on the door came as the moon was rising over the coast. Midas would always regret opening that door.

Soldiers grabbed him as soon as the door opened, their grip tight on the boy’s arms as he struggled. He heard his mother cry out for him, reach for him. She was yelling at the soldiers to release her son, that they had no business taking him.

“By decree of your King, this boy is now property of the Kingdom and shall be escorted to the palace,” one soldier spoke, his voice cold and level. He cared not for this woman’s concern, for her upset. At least, until she grabbed at Midas.

A sword was drawn in an instant, blood on the floor as she dropped. He vaguely remembered screaming for her, trying his best to get to her. But it was too late. Far too late.

The last time Midas would ever see his first home was that night, as flames licked the sky and destroyed everything he ever knew.

Gavin was good at hiding. He had done it for centuries under different names, different faces. He had run for years, for decades, without so much as a second thought. So why was it so hard to leave now? Why couldn’t he find himself away from Los Santos, away from California, away from the States?

Why wasn’t he back in England with Dan? Why was he still watching them from a distance?

Because he cared. For the first time in many, many years, he cared.

So he stayed.

He spent three years as a slave to the King. Three years of nothing more than creating for a man who cared not for him as a person, only as means to an end. Gone was the curious child with the golden smile and bright laugh. Gone, like his home. Gone, like his family. He was alone, and only had himself to blame.

Him, and his golden curse.

It was three years before anyone would come for him. Dionysus himself coming to collect his son from the tyrant who had made him a slave. Dionysus didn’t take kindly to the treatment of his blood, to the murder of Theodosia, whom he still cared for.

It wan’t Dionysus that found him, though. It was a satyr named Pan. The God of Nature himself.

“Midas?” He questioned, looking into the eyes of a boy who had seen too much, “It’s time to come home. Your father is here.”

“Akakios?” Midas would ask, knowing he would be wrong. He wondered if Akakios would have ever come for him if he knew where he was. If he knew he was alive. Midas’ power took everything from Akakios; he had no reason to seek out the bastard child who ruined his life.

“No, boy,” Pan predictably told him, something kind in his gaze, “Dionysus. He’s been looking for you for quite a while; no child of his shall be a slave.”

“He’s a few years too late,” Midas told the God, but followed him despite his cynical words.

Dionysus couldn’t have been more different than Akakios had been. Akakios was a quiet, thoughtful man. Dionysus was loud, boisterous, and quite temperamental it seemed. But, he was Midas’ escape from this prison, and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Midas had his suspicions as to what happened to the King, but he never asked. He never cared. If the King was dead, then everyone was better for it.

He allowed Dionysus and Pan to lead him away to yet another place he didn’t know. Another place that wasn’t home.

He had never been more homesick in his life.

The crew was searching for him. They had been for the last week since he disappeared. He saw Michael’s fires, and Jeremy’s fights. He saw Jack’s helicopter combing the hills and Geoff’s car on the streets. He saw cameras searching for him, Matt on the other end. He heard Trevor digging for intel, and Alfredo searching by scope. And there was Lindsay, causing chaos as if they hoped it would be a siren song for Gavin to come back. To help them cause it.

But it wasn’t any of them who found him first.

No, it was the one who grew up in Los Santos. The one who knew the stories. Who knew where you turned when your luck had run out.

Fiona arrived to the modest plywood stand in a damp alleyway in La Mesa with a bag full of gold pinched from the crew and a determination unlike any other. She was the one to call him back, unable to ignore a request from his own altar.

“Fi? Why are you here?”

She graced him with a narrow stare, arms crossed, anger and concern in her veins, “ Why do you think I’m here, Gavin? I’m here because you left. You left and you haven’t come back.”

Stepping from the shadows, he gave her a tired, golden-eyed once over, ‘I’m not coming back, Fiona.”

“Like hell you aren’t!”

He lifted his head, standing straight, looking very much like the God he was, “Go home, Fiona. Forget Gavin Free. Forget me.”

He didn’t stick around to hear her reply.

He was eighteen now. Two years with Dionysus, and two years since he was no longer a slave. At least, in normal terms. Now…now he was a trophy. Dionysus’ favored son; not because of himself, but because of his mother. His mother Dionysus still loved. He was nothing more than his remaining link to the past.

He was no more his own man than a child.

But, he did have solace in one other. Pan, the Satyr God, had become his closest friend. He taught him how to control his power, how to shape it, how to bend it to his will. He taught him about the shepherds who called to Pan for blessings, and the animals they herded across the land. Pan taught him about nature, and showed him how to respect it.

But, most of all, Pan taught him he belonged to no one.

The Gods of Olympus also seemed to take a shine to him. Artemis taught him the hunt, and how to feed himself should he require it. Hephaestus taught him the forge, another way to bend his powers into beautiful and useful shapes. Apollo taught him medicine, how to heal himself if a fight went wrong. Athena taught him wisdom, and how to find one with unpleasant intentions.

Hades gave him the greatest gift of all.

In a small temple on the coast, a lone keeper watched over the altar of Hades. Devout in his care of the temple and his prayers to the god, Hades had been curious what this man had lost to cause him to be so pious to the God of the Underworld. Hades appeared to the man one night, as the keeper was finishing his evening prayer, and he asked. He asked what the man prayed for more than anything.

“The happiness in the afterlife of my wife and son,” the man answered, eyes awed, but tired, as if he had lost the life that once resided in them.

“What is your name, Keeper?” Hades asked of him, not unkindly, “And what were your wife and son called?”

“Lord Hades,” the man replied, “They call me a Ghost now, but once my name was Akakios. My beloved was Theodosia, and my son Midas.”

Hades knew then he was looking at the man who raised Dionysus’ golden son, the same one Pan had been searching for in an attempt to bring happiness back to his friend. Dionysus had never truly been a father to Midas. But Akakios had. And it was only right the boy was returned to his father.

“Devout Akakios,” Hades spoke, “I wish for you to meet someone. You have been praying to me for many years, and I wish to reward your selflessness. You cared not for your own gain, but for the souls you have lost. Come with me, Temple Keeper. And I will give you a gift.”

Akakios had no reason to deny his Lord, so he stood, approaching the God of the Underworld with the lack of hesitation reserved for men who welcomed death. Together, Hades whisked them away from the temple on the coast, to a grove surrounded by trees, the smell of earth as strong as the scent of sea salt had been before.

“Hades,” a voice called, “What do I owe the pleasure?”

Akakios never dreamed of meeting one God, let alone two, but before him stood a Satyr, flute in hand, a crown of leaves and flowers adorned his head. Pan, the god he once prayed to for the safety of his flock.

“I found him, Pan,” Hades said, gesturing to the man beside him, “You were correct, he did yet live. He’s been one of my most loyal followers, but he is here now. Pan, may I introduce you to Akakios.”

Pan seemed quite overjoyed to meet this mortal man, and it only confused Akakios more when the satyr…hugged him?

“Oh, he’ll be thrilled, Hades! He’s nearby, wait here!”

Akakios looked to his God for answers, but found nothing more than a kind smile.

“Pan!” Another man’s voice echoed through the clearing, “What is this about, my friend? I haven’t seen you this excited since the last revelry!”

The voice was so familiar, yet so different. Who was Pan leading back down the path?

Akakios’ breath left his lungs as a golden-eyed boy — no, man — followed Pan back into the grove. It couldn’t be, yet here he was, alive and breathing and looking at him like he had seen the ghost he had been called.

“Midas?”

“Father?”

“I hear you’re looking for him.”

The crew was no stranger to the black-clad figure in their living room. He had his own reputation, but seemed to exist only when he wished to exist. The city called him The Ghost, the specter in black with the blank white mask that haunted the streets.

Rumor also had it that he was Midas’ only priest.

“We are,” Geoff said, eyeing the figure warily, “But not for a favor.”

“No, you’re looking for him for personal reasons, I am aware,” The Ghost said, glancing out the windows overlooking Los Santos, “I know who you are and what he means to you. A friend, not a God. Something he desperately needed after so long alone.”

Jack cocked her head, “So you are connected to him.”

“You could say that, yes. I know you know how to contact him. One of you already has. But it will take more than gold and pleas for him to come back. He’s frightened.”

“Of us?” Fiona pipes up, brows burrowed in confusion, “Why?”

“Almost everyone who has ever known his true nature has turned on him. Used him for their own gain. Or, has cast him out, shown him hatred and distrust. He doesn’t want that with you. He cares too much; it’d kill him if you cast him aside.”

“I don’t care if he shits diamonds!” Geoff exclaimed, “He belongs here.”

The Ghost cocked his head, and they could almost sense he was smiling, as if they had passed some test of his when it came to Gavin. Maybe they had.

“Go to his altar. All of you. Bring your tributes. He cannot ignore a call from the altar; he refuses to. Tell him what he means to you. He will listen, but this may be your only chance to get him back.”

“What’s your angle?” Jeremy finally asked, arms crossed, “Why help us?”

The Ghost laughed, something soft in it, as he pulled off the mask, showing them a olive-skinned man with dark hair pulled back and sharp, clever steel-gray eyes assessing them, “I’m simply a concerned father, looking out for his son.”

Midas would run many, many times in his life. Whether from those with foul intentions or from lives run their course. But none were more important than when he ran from Dionysus that first time, Pan and his father by his side. He was a free man, now. Free to be who he wanted.

It wouldn’t be the last time he’d be Free.

He gained a reputation in the cities they passed through. He would set up a small stand, selling jewelry and golden trinkets. The nobles loved his work, but the peasants were the ones who praised him more. He would take the coin he earned and buy them food, buy them cloth, buy them whatever they needed. He never kept for himself. He, nor his father, nor his brother. They gave to those who couldn’t provide.

“We’ve been where you are,” they told them with sincere kindness, “If you ever are in need, pray to the one they call Midas. He will answer.”

Gods are only as strong as their following. And as Midas’ following grew, the stronger his power became. Everyone prayed for gold. But he wasn’t just the fledgling god of gold. No, he was more. God of the Outcasts. God of the Impoverished. For they coveted gold in the purest form. They only wanted to provide for themselves and those they loved.

So, while Midas charmed the nobles, he truly became a man, a God, of the poor.

Years would pass, and he would gain many names. He would become many men. He would help many more. He would learn at the greatest institutions, read the greatest literature, and see history unfold right before his eyes. The rise and fall of empires, the invention of wonderful and terrible things, religions growing and dying. He watched it all.

And beside him stood his friend — his brother in all but blood — Pan, now often called Daniel. And on his other side, bearing a gift from Hades himself, stood Akakios, his beloved father.

And he? Well he became fond of a certain English name. Gavin.

He was tired. Tired of hiding. Tired of trying to decide to run, only for his heart to bring him back. He was tired.

He was tired of lying to himself that he didn’t care anymore.

So when he got the call from his altar with a very familiar feeling, he wanted to ignore it. But, his promise always brought him back. Midas would always answer.

“Fiona,” he started, appearing in the alleyway without preamble, “I told you to forget-“

“Yeah, and I think she probably told you that wasn’t gonna fucking happen, Boi.”

Midas froze, taking in the nine people before him, staring at him, having called him here. They were all there. His crew. And on the altar was his own gold aviators, among gold trinkets he recognized. The crew loved calling him a magpie, always picking up something gold and shiny for them when he could. There sat his gifts to them. In a gift back to him.

“Midas,” another voice chimed in from behind him, and he didn’t have to look to know who it was, “Listen to them. They care more than your fear leads you to believe.”

“We miss you, buddy,” Geoff looked torn between reaching out for a hug or throttling him, and Midas’ heart ached for how normal that was, “Come home. I don’t care what magic shit you can do. You’re still our favorite dumbass that makes stupid bird noises and makes up words because you can.”

“I’m a God,” Midas choked out, “I’m not like you. I never should have been close. I never should have pretended.”

Lindsay smiled gently, their hand reaching out to him, “I’m sure even Gods need friends.”

“You…you really…don’t care?”

“I mean, we kinda would like an explanation, but for the superpower shit, not really. I mean, it was pretty fucking cool how you made goddamn statues of those guys,” Jeremy’s grin was lopsided and Midas could have hugged him too for how normal they all acted. It was as if nothing changed. Had anything changed? Well, yes, they knew the truth. They knew their Golden Boy was a Golden God.

But they didn’t care. And now he felt foolish for thinking they even would.

“Go home, Midas,” Akakios said quietly, “They’re as much your family as I am. Go home and be happy. You deserve it.”

Slowly, Midas stepped towards his crew, and they could see a change in him. Something different. Something more familiar.

Gavin Free had returned to his family. He had stopped running for the first time in a long, long time. And they were there to welcome him home with open arms.

[fieryrondo]

my report on skate canada 2019 and how i fell in love with figure skating all over again (part 1)

It’s taken me about a month to sit down and write this. Not necessarily due to lack of time (though that is a factor) but because the experience was so much. Even now, with grainy photos and videos taken with a trembling hand as proof of my time there, Skate Canada feels like a bit of a fever dream. The best kind that leaves you breathless, heart-pounding and longing for more.

I’m not a stranger to traveling alone but this would be my first international venture for something solely recreational, something solely just for me. A purely selfish pleasure. The planning itself was a.process that evolved over the course of months. And to be honest, there were times when I thought this trip wouldn’t happen at all. My flight, booked months in advance, got moved up several hours earlier than expected, forcing me to decide between missing part of the gala or to stay an extra night. Personal problems drained my stamina, and several bouts of poor health stoked the fear that this day would never come. It only became real when I set off for Boston, carry-on, and swan plush in tow, for the first leg of my journey.

Kelowna, a charming lake-resort town in the middle of nowhere British Columbia. There are no direct flights from the East Coast there and I ended up having an overnight stopover in Toronto. From what I saw from the vantage point of the aircraft, Toronto was a beautiful city and reminded me a little of Los Angeles. However, I had little time to appreciate the city. I checked into a hotel to shower, warm up some leftovers, and resurrect my dying phone.

(above) My companions for the journey. 

The swan was for Yuzuru, I know it is traditional to give him a Pooh bear but I picked the swan because it was the first program of his that I saw and to this day, it is still my favorite. It has a lot of meaning for me. The Sakura Pooh was my lucky charm, the Pooh ears a last-minute purchase. 

Due to my schedule, I had to miss the first day, which itself was a bit of a risk. Isn’t it crazy? Traveling thousands of kilometers just to watch half a competition? I certainly thought so. Not to mention how Yuzuru performed during the short would have a direct impact on how he would approach the free skate. Skate Canada has never been his strongest competition. Even if he was the overwhelming favorite, like most fanyus, I’ve learned to take nothing for granted. When I heard that he skated well in the short, I breathed a little more easily before settling down to draft my letter.

“Perhaps it’s a bit forward of me, a complete stranger, to wish you this, but congratulations on your chest muscles” was the opening line of my letter, as suggested by my good friend Tanya over @turistinmyowncity​. I was too embarrassed to actually take photographic evidence but rest assured I did include it. I like to think that it may have made Yuzuru smile. A gold foil origami crane was added for additional luck. Like many fans, I was keeping my fingers crossed for Yuzuru’s first Skate Canada title.

And then it was off to the airport again, this time for the second leg of the flight. Unlike the first flight, not so many passengers were flying to Kelowna and we all got to pick our own seats.

It did not occur to me that catching Yuzuru’s practice was even within the realm of possibility until I had realized that we had arrived in Kelowna 30 minutes earlier than scheduled. A fanyu i had been corresponding with had texted: “Yuzuru’s skating second to last in practice. If you hurry, you might make it.”

*insert dramatic cinematic action sequence where I race to the nearest cab driver, shakily request to be taken to Prospera Palace expediently without breaking any traffic safety laws and then quietly die to the barely heard strains of Origin while the main entrance security guard painstakingly searches my luggage.*

One of the most vivid memories I have of Skate Canada is dragging my ridiculously bulky carryon (gimpy wheel and all) up the flight of stairs in Section 114, trying to flatten myself and become one with the stairwell wall and not get in anyone’s way. A volunteer took pity on me and let me stand on the top of the steps for a closer look. The first thing I saw, of course, was Pooh-san, that bright splash of red and yellow works perfectly as a homing beacon.

I missed Origin but was able to catch the last few minutes of practice. As for first impressions go, I’m afraid I don’t have anything particularly new to offer. Yuzuru looks as exactly as he does in photos. Sharp, precise, graceful. And fast! He kept practicing what looked like his entrance into quad loop. 

With men’s practice over, I met up with fellow fanyu VentusCantabile, an extremely sweet person with an excellent singing voice :). I dropped off my luggage at our Airbnb (conveniently located two blocks away) before rushing back over to the arena for the free dance. The venue itself is not that big so even in seats from the nosebleed section you can get a pretty good view. I was in section 112, the closest I could get to the judges' side view and also got a decent(ish) view of the kiss and cry.

I must confess that I don’t really follow ice dance and am unable to provide anything insightful. To me, everyone looked absolutely stunning. I cheered extra loud for Sara Hurtado/Kirill Khaliavin, the first Spanish ice dancers to win a Grand Prix medal. It’s no secret that I miss Javi terribly since his retirement so it was so nice to see Spanish figure skating continue to make strides. Sara’s story is also particularly inspiring. Like Javi, she has worked extremely hard to put Spanish figure skating on the map.

Other teams that impressed were: Gilles/Pourier, Hubbell/Donohue and Fear/Gibson. Fear/Gibson had an especially fun program and the Russian family next to me were so cute in that they were cheering for all of the European teams.

And then it was time for the ladies.

Media will talk about Trusova’s mindbogglingly difficult quads, Rika’s sublime triple axel, Medvedeva’s fight of a free, but the free skate of the night for me personally was Marin’s La La Land. So tenderly skated! Marin is so lovely and a true pleasure to watch live. To watch her bravely skate through (bandage and all) the best free she’s had in ages, how meaningful it must have been. And thus the first sea of Japanese flags washed through the stands. 

Here is Evgenia! Her dress is actually extremely beautiful. A very charismatic skater, there were a lot of fans who had come from overseas to cheer for her. 

Cute podium :)

Then a break for lunch. The funniest thing I found about being in Kelowna is how it is no exaggeration that figure skating fans just take over the town. The restaurant we went to was packed full of figure skating fans. Talking with fanyus was surprisingly easy. A bit awkward at first but it wasn’t long before we were easily chatting about scoring GOE guidelines and work and other fandom interests.

Then back to the rink for pairs. Given that there was a dearth of filled seats in the lower rows, I half-guiltily took the opportunity to sit a bit closer.

Watching pairs. Is. Terrifying. Lifts are hella more impressive. Twists are gravity defying. Throws are put your hands together and pray the guy does his part to help his partner land those jumps.

Vladimir Morozov lifting Evgenia Tarasova. I appreciated them a lot more live. Their elements are huge and so so clean.

Boikova/Kozlovskii are also now officially my favorite Russian pairs team. I had originally planned on filming their free since seeing quality pairs skating is such a rare opportunity in the US (cough, cough, please invest in pairs more, usfsa). I could not take my eyes off of them for one second. They were so confident and radiating electric charisma from start to finish. A young team with a very bright future!

Between the break, I also spotted Elladj Blade and Kevin Reynolds, the latter was kindly signing autographs. I was too shy to approach either of them but let me tell you Kevin is very sweet with little kids.

And then on to the men! The arena was starting to fill again so I ended up moving up a few rows. I was nervous (for a variety of reasons) but this was ultimately the event I came to see. Watching men is a bit like Russian roulette, you can either expect magnificence or implosion (or sometimes both). Not too many falls but pops are quite painful to see, especially when you know they are so costly. Still, there was a lot to like. Watching Matteo made my heart ache because his style reminds me so much of Javi’s (and doing a flamenco program does not make that association any easier). Roman is also really gorgeous to watch live, but he was so nervous during the free he was unable to show us what he’s really capable of.

At some point, you can sense the audience’s point of focus shift, probably during Camden’s skate (also really liked Camden!). I was sitting pretty close to the side of the skater’s entrance and noticed that all of the fans right by the stairwell had their phones/cameras out. Stairwell shooting is always a reliable indicator of Yuzuru’s arrival ^^

That roar of approval when Yuzuru takes off his jacket is something else. Origin 2.0 is a beautiful costume and way, way more sparkly in real life. Photos don’t quite do the sparkles justice.

Those six minutes of warm-up were honestly some of the most stressful I’ve experienced. Yuzuru kept drilling the quad loop, the jump that he had been having trouble with during practice. After he had gotten a beautiful one under his belt (good, please do that again in the free), he seemed to calm down.

I found it very difficult to concentrate on the other skaters in the second group. By then the stadium was packed and every seat was filled. I had doubts about whether or not I would even get the chance to throw my gift onto the ice because I was so high up and nowhere near the aisle. Worst case scenario, I would just keep my swan.

Keiji!!! He was so fun to watch here. I really love both of his programs this season and he was totally on from the very first jump! Not gonna lie, I saw my life flash before my eyes when he almost ran straight into the boards on his second sal, and then the dainty single toe on the end made me laugh. :)

So it never occurred to me, a formerly strictly broadcast viewer, the amount of time that skaters have right before they skate. There is SO much time. While they were doing the slow-mo replay and the judges were punching buttons, Yuzuru was already whizzing on the ice. He landed a very beautiful quad toe. Feather light. Airy. Calm and commanding, he looked good to go.

At this point, I put down my phone. Although part of me cried at the thought of not having a personal recording of Yuzuru’s free, it felt important to focus entirely on him with my own two eyes.

There are no words that can quite describe what I felt when watching Origin. When I look back on this skate, I can only remember how hard I ground my teeth. How I could feel the opening drum beats like the beats of a human heart. How my knuckles whitened as they grasped the edge of my hard seat. Yuzuru went for the loop and spun out, clinging on to the ice by the edge of his blade. Not the prettiest landing but he made it.

The sal next, smooth as silk. Step sequence, violin choreo(!!), that scream for the prettiest triple lutz I’ve seen. Quad toe. How many quads left. My fingernails were digging into my plastic wrapped swan. THAT FUCKING QUAD TOE-EULER-TRIPLE FLIP. Ahhhhhhhh, roll of thunder, hear our cry.

The CLAPPING. 6000 voices in perfect synchrony. Every completed jumping pass felt like a victory charge. That bionic knee bend determination to eke out that double toe. All jumping passes cleared. At some point I must have started breathing again. A song in my heart, indiscriminate joy squeezing the heck out of my vocal cords. Lay down that ina bauer! A tiny slip on the hydroblade but he’s done it. He’s ground the silver curse to dust. When you’re screaming at the top of your lungs but you can’t hear a thing because everyone else around you is screaming louder than you. Final clapping sequence. Dramatique pose, punch the air. Sound your barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

322.59!!! Feels. So. Damn. Right.

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[starshinescribbles]

Across The Sea

When Beth spots a strange light in the ocean she becomes obsessed with working out just what it is and why it is there. 

The wind whistled as it danced between the buildings. Everyone kept their heads down as they walked, all of them thinking about their destination as opposed to the world around them.

Beth was one of these people. She clutched the warm paper cup in her hands as she carefully stepped around people, doing her best to not spill hot liquid onto them.

She wasn't sure exactly what she was doing. She had said that she was going home, but she really didn't want to. The void that sat in her chest made that feel like a horrible task, one that would only make the swirling mess of emotions inside her even more volatile.

Beth's sigh became mist in the cold air as she turned down a corner, her feet working to prevent her going home for as long as possible.

Beth wasn't sure what had come over her the past few months. It was like she was constantly stuck in a hazy fog. A fog that sapped her energy, leaving her so drained and tired. She didn't want it anymore, but she couldn't understand it enough to even begin to fathom what was causing it.

As Beth walked, the bustle of people faded as the sound of lapping water grew louder.  She let out a soft sigh, she had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't even realized that she had walked all the way to the sea wall.

With a soft shrug, Beth started to follow the wall, it felt like a good excuse to not go home for a bit longer. As she wandered Beth dropped back into her churning thoughts, getting so tied up in them that she hardly noticed her feet rhythmically tapping on the concrete or the sun slowly sinking below the horizon.

By the time Beth realized what she was doing, she had walked a few miles along the wall and was now in the middle of nowhere. Many years ago she would have been on a bustling wharf, covered in fishermen bringing in the catch, however, these days it was a deathly quiet expanse of concrete, dotted with the shells of old buildings.

Beth let out a long sigh and leaned on the wall and looked out at the water. She wasn't really that interested in looking at the scenery, but it was something to focus on that wasn't her brain.

However, something caught Beth's eye. A flickering light bobbing a little bit offshore. At first, Beth mistook it for a buoy, however, she had never seen one that flickered before.

Beth squinted to try and make out the shape around the light, quickly realizing that it wasn't a buoy at all. In fact, the more Beth squinted, the more it looked like a boat. But not a ship like she would expect to see, it looked more like a gondola.

She fumbled for her phone and opened the camera, hoping the zoom could aid her sight. For a few moments, Beth wondered if this was some fool who had brought a boat and not realized how strong the current was.

Beth swiped her fingers across the screen and watched as the camera zoomed in. The image was blurry but it was unmistakably a small boat, one that had no business being out in the open ocean.

As she stared in disbelief a revelation hit Beth square in the face. This boat wasn't moving at all. It wasn't even bobbing with the waves, almost as if it was just balanced on the seafloor.

She continued to try and work out what was up with the strange boat, however the longer she looked the more confused she became.

The water around it was darker than usual,  having an almost purple hue. Beth was lost, she had no idea what this could be. She opened up her web browser and started to type, hoping she could find an answer.

As her fingers danced along the screen, several options popped into Beth's head. It could be an art installation or some cleverly disguised guidance object, or even something linked to nature conservation.

However, as quickly as these answers came to her, they were quickly squashed by her rational mind and her searching. Disguising a guidance object would render it totally pointless, and an art project would have gotten some press, especially one as odd as this.

Beth shook her head. Whatever this boat was, it wasn't something she knew about it. She opened the camera again and looked at the boat. It was undeniably a gondola, it couldn't be anything else.

Suddenly the boat started to slowly float away as Beth watched on in confusion. Beth thought she could see someone moving on the boat, but she couldn't make them out through the blur on her camera. Within moments the boat vanished off the horizon, leaving Beth utterly bewildered and dumbfounded.

Beth quickly dashed home, utterly determined to get the bottom of what that object was. She wasn't totally sure why, but something deep within her had to know, it had to have answers to the questions that bounced around her brain.

She had a renewed skip in her step, a problem she could throw herself into. Beth spent every free moment researching what the thing could be, but every avenue just led to a dead end. There was no way a small wooden gondola could sit in the open water like that if it was even possible to buy a gondola locally.

Beth was so dedicated to her search that she visited every outdoors store in the area and called every boat rental place she could find. However, none of them had a gondola or even knew of a place once could purchase such a thing. In fact, several of them spent time correcting her, explaining that a gondola would be useless for traversing the ocean.

This only intrigued Beth further, the whole situation made no sense at all. In fact, it was so strange Beth started to doubt herself, had she been so lost in her own haze that she had hallucinated the whole thing?

After a few days of internal arguments, Beth decided on a course of action. She rummaged around in the wardrobe and fished out a dusty old pair of binoculars that had been brought for a camping trip several years ago, though Beth couldn't remember if she had actually used them on the trip.

Her plan was simple, every night after work she was going to walk the sea wall to see if she could spot the strange boat again. If she didn't see it for a few weeks, then she had obviously hallucinated the whole thing.

For a few days, Beth found nothing in the sea. There was just water, miles and miles of useless, boring water without a single interesting thing on it.

However, after a week of disappointment, Beth got lucky. As she approached the sea wall she saw the flickering light again. Beth's heart started to pound as she ran up to the concrete barrier and started to fumble for the binoculars.

Once they were out, Beth took a deep breath and lifted the lens to her eyes and peered out towards the light. With this aid, Beth could finally make out the details of the boat. It was a gondola, just like the ones she had seen online, however, this wasn't some mass-produced boat, it looked like it was hand-carved, almost as if it was made from a single tree trunk.

Beth moved her eyes, looking across the whole boat, doing her best to find any identifying detail. Suddenly, a figure moved into view, making Beth jump.

She quickly tried to recover herself, keen to get a look at whoever was in charge of this strange boat. However, the more Beth looked, the more confused she became. The ship was captained by a woman who wore a long flowing dress made of green velvet decorated with lustrous gold thread.

This dress seemed to move and ripple in a breeze that Beth could not feel. As Beth moved her gaze upward she spotted the girl's face, she was wearing a mask that resembled a plain white face made of delicate procaine.

It was at once terrifying and oddly fascinating. However, as Beth stared a revelation hit as her stomach dropped. The girl was looking straight at her. Beth started to panic as she tried to work out what to do. She couldn't decide if she should hide behind the wall or try to run away.

Her heart pounded in her chest as all of her muscles shouted out a different solution. However, before Beth could pick an approach the girl turned away and started to look at something on her boat.

Beth quickly ducked down behind the wall. She was unsure what to do, but her mind demanded that she do something, anything to avoid the awkward situation. As she panted Beth tried to think up a good excuse, would this strange girl believe she was just looking at the ocean and not attempting to spy on her?

Then again, this girl should be used to drawing attention to herself, you couldn't row around the coast in a strange boat while wearing such a fancy outfit and not get strange looks.

After a few minutes of cowering behind the wall, Beth decided she had to do something, she couldn't hide all night. She slowly rose to her feet, her eyes slowly tracing the horizon, trying to see where this girl was. However, to Beth's surprise, the boat was nowhere to be seen.

Beth looked around, slightly confused by the boat's sudden disappearance. The woman couldn't have rowed the boat away that quickly unless she had a really quiet motor or some other form of propulsion.

However, as Beth stared she realized that there was no way that boat could move that quickly while remaining totally and utterly silent. Beth's curiosity grew deeper, this had only made her more determined to work out the truth.

The second Beth got home she dived onto her computer and started to search again, keen to find out any information. Alas, she found more nothing, the extra information only served to rule out her theories and introduced no new ones.

Beth couldn't get the girl out of her head. Something about her was so confusing yet so alluring. It was like a thread that Beth couldn't resist pulling on, hoping that everything would unravel. But it seemed that the more she pulled the more knotted and tangled everything became.

However much she tried, Beth just couldn't get the whole thing out of her head. It was a puzzle she just had to crack. And thus Beth decided to go back to the dock, night after night in the hope of seeing the girl again.

She wasn't exactly sure what she would do when she saw the boat again. She couldn't exactly swim out to the woman and demand answers, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Or I could just shout," mumbled Beth to herself, only for her eyes to go wide as a revelation hit her. She could just yell at the woman on the boat, what did she have to lose?

Beth continued her nightly ritual of heading to the docks after work, her eyes scanning the horizon looking for the slightest hint of the boat's presence.

But for several days, all Beth found was empty water that stretched out to the horizon. Each day Beth's heart dropped a little more, worried that she would never have an answer to her question.

It took over a week for the boat to appear again. The second that Beth saw the dappled light dance across the water she felt her heart speed up.

Beth ran towards the wall, running over the words in her brain. As she reached the barricade Beth gazed at the boat, doing her best to take in every inch of it.

It was the same as it had been previously, but now it felt so much more real, this wasn't something Beth was dreaming, it was an actual boat that was actually sat in the water.  

"Hello!" Shouted Beth as she started to wave her arms. "Boat girl!" She added as she started to bounce on the spot. For a moment Beth wondered what she would say if someone else saw her doing this, but she didn't care, her only desire was to find out more about this odd girl.

After a few minutes of furious bouncing, Beth grabbed the binoculars from her bag and looked towards the boat. As her eyes focused on the craft she spotted the figure on the boat.

The figure turned to look at Beth and moved to the edge of her boat, tilting her head a little as she stared a hole into Beth. To Beth's surprise, the girl was clad in the same costume she had been wearing the last time, but it was the girl's body language that sent a chill down Beth's spine.

The girl continued to tilt her head and stare at Beth, despite her face being covered it was obvious she was confused and puzzled by Beth's actions, almost as if she hadn't expected to be spotted.

"Hi!" Shouted Beth, keen to fill the silence. "I like your boat!" She added as she watched the girl carefully. However, the girl remained silent, her eyes continuing to stare through Beth, almost as if she was sizing her up.

After several minutes of silence, Beth decided she should speak again, wondering if the girl hadn't been able to make out what she was saying due to the wind or the distance.

"Your boat is cool! I wanted to say hi as I see you around sometimes!" Smiled Beth, deciding to omit the fact that she had been coming here every day in the hope of seeing this girl.

The girl on the boat continued to stare for a few minutes before turning around and bending down into her boat. Beth's heart dropped, maybe this girl was ignoring her, maybe she was just going to row away and pretend Beth had never happened.

A forlorn cloud washed over Beth's mind as she watched the girl. Her mind was unable to comprehend that she would just be ignored like this. However, the girl suddenly turned around, revealing that she clutching a canvas to her chest.

Beth felt a smile form on her lips, a wave of excitement crashed over her. "Hey!" Shouted Beth again, waving furiously, hoping that she could find some way of communicating with this odd boat and its silent occupant.

The woman looked down at the canvas and started to scribble something on it. Beth waited quietly as she pondered just what the girl could be writing. Her brain danced through several options, including the girl making a sign to tell Beth to leave her alone.

After several minutes of scribbling the masked girl ripped a chunk of canvas off and started to fold it up. Her hands moved with speed and precision as Beth in awe, trying to work out just what the girl was attempting to do.

Slowly the canvas formed into a little boat, almost like ones Beth had made when she was a young girl except this one was massively more ornate and advance, it was clear this wasn't the first time the girl had quickly fashioned one of these boats.

The women slowly bent down and gently placed the boat in the water. Almost instantly the little boat started to float towards Beth, totally ignoring the ripples of the water.

Beth clambered over the concrete wall and leaned down into the water, quickly grabbing onto the boat. As she rested it on her palm Beth took a deep breath. Part of her didn't want to destroy this beautiful creation, but her curiosity was desperate to see what the girl had written on the canvas.

As her hands trembled Beth slowly pulled open the boat, revealing the message within. "I didn't think you could see me," said the letters in perfect and flowery cursive.

"I can see you!" Shouted Beth, grinning towards the masked girl, keen to make it clear she was reading the text. The girl nodded back at Beth, confirming that Beth's shouts could be heard.

Beth admired the writing some more. It was amazingly ornate, it looked like something that would come from a quill or a brush but the girl didn't seem to be holding one.

When Beth looked up from the canvas she saw another little boat floating towards her. She didn't think, she quickly leaned over and grabbed the little boat out of the water and pulled it open.

"I have to be quiet," said the new text. "But it is nice to see you, I very rarely get seen."

"I can see you!" Shouted Beth, only to kick herself as she realized she had already said that once and that she wouldn't make a good impression if she shouted the same thing over and over.

However, before Beth could think of something else to say she saw the girl look at something on her boat before grabbing her oar and starting to row away.

"Oh, bye!" Shouted Beth, her heart dropping a little as she watched the boat vanish off the horizon. Beth stood silently for a few moments, only for a wave of determination to wash over her.

She started to jog home, ideas filling her mind. Not only was she going to go out and meet the girl, but she was also going to make her a letter as beautiful as the one she had been given. Sure Beth couldn't make boats but she knew she could make something pleasing.

Beth spent every waking hour planning out her letter, doing her best to explain how the boat girl had made her feel, how a bad few months had been filled with excitement and wonder due to her boat and mask.

She also called up the boat places and tried to find the perfect craft to get her out to meet the masked girl. Most of the stores were utterly dumbfounded by her request, however, she was able to find one place that would sell her a small rowboat. It wasn't impressive, but Beth didn't care.

After a week of furious work, Beth arrived at the jetty with a plan in her head. Her friend had been slightly confused about why Beth had asked for help to move a boat to the jetty, and Beth's excuse about joining a boating club had done nothing to undo that confusion.

"Are you sure you don't want me to hang around?" Asked Beth's friend as she looked around the empty jetty. "Seems we got here early."

"Nah, I'll be fine!" Grinned Beth, doing her best to sound as believable as possible. "I don't want to put you out more than I already have."

"Sure," nodded Beth's friend as she climbed back into her car and started to drive away. The second the car was out of sight Beth started to gently move the boat into the water, hoping that no one would spot her.

As the water gently lapped against the side of the boat Beth took a deep breath. Part of her couldn't believe she was doing this, but the rest of her couldn't care, she was beyond reason.

Beth grasped the oar and slowly started to row out to where the girl usually was. Her eyes looked over the horizon, trying to see if she could see the gondola.

Time felt so slow. Every second seemed to last hours as doubts filled Beth's mind. Maybe she had scared her off? Maybe she had missed her? Maybe this was all in her head?

Suddenly Beth's boat wobbled. She gasped and spun around, only to see the gondola was right next to her. "Oh hi!" Blushed Beth as she saw the masked girl. "I thought I would come and say hi! Because, well," rambled Beth, her pre-prepared speech falling out of her memory.

Beth heard a soft noise come from under the girls laugh. Despite it being muffled, it was undeniably a giggle. Beth's cheeks went bright red as a confident smile came to her face.

"I have this for you!" Grinned Beth as she passed the girl the letter. The masked girl slowly opened the paper and looked over the words. As she read Beth held her breath, silently praying that the girl liked it.

The masked girl gently looked up from the paper and gazed right into Beth's eyes. Slowly she raised her arm and offered out her hand. Despite the lack of words Beth totally understood the offer.

Beth's hand shook as she gently took the girl's hand and let her herself be guided into the gondola. She didn't know where this was going and she didn't care, she felt alive, like every cell of in her body was vibrating with excitement.

It took Beth a moment to steady herself, her body expected the gondola to rock like her own boat had, however it stayed perfectly still in the water, almost like it was resting on dry land.

The gondola was full of art supplies, it seemed that this girl amused herself by drawing and painting. But these images were far more ornate than anything Beth had ever seen before.

Beth's eyes met a canvas and her heart skipped a beat. She was staring directly at her own face. The drawing was a perfect replica of her last meeting with the girl. It was so detailed and perfect that it could be mistaken for a photograph, every small blemish of Beth's skin was perfectly captured.

Suddenly, Beth felt the girl's breath against her ear. "Come with me," said the girl, her voice only just audible over the wind and water. "I want to show you something."

"Yes, please," nodded Beth. She didn't know what she was about to be shown, but whatever it was was worth it to her. She turned towards the masked girl and smiled. "I want to see it."

The masked girl nodded and picked up a bottle of lantern oil, quickly filling and lighting the lantern that hung from the back of the gondola. As the dappled light danced and flickered across the waves, the girl picked up her oar and started to propel the boat forward towards the setting sun.

Beth looked at the water and then back at the girl. She had no idea where she was going, but right now she didn't need to know. Right now the mere fact she was going somewhere was more than enough for her and wherever this girl took her couldn't be much worse than the world that sat on land behind them.

[monolith-of-flesh]

October 24th, 2020

Visiting Antioch by myself. The dream begins with me parking my vehicle on a small side road in the city of Antioch, between noise blocking freeway walls to my right and a Catholic Church/Mosque combo building on my left. I leave the pickup truck I’m driving and begin to traverse the city on foot, searching for some touristy locations. After many hours of wandering I haven’t found anything grand enough to warrant a visit. I come upon a very wide section of road, most of the building are set far back from the street and have a 1800s American look to them, red brick and only 3-4 stories max. The dominating landmark on this block is a massive red brick Gothic(?) cathedral. Its formerly exquisite facade is now slouching and crumbling. The brick is dark with mold and stains of age, the roof shingles are peeling off and rotting, and the bell tower is hunched forward and seems to be on the verge of collapse. I attempt to cross the street towards it, only to trip twice and somersault backwards onto the curb. I believe this was cause by my wearing of a extremely tight black hoodie that had restricted the motion of my head. It’s extremely hot and balefully sunny and I can tell I’m getting sunburned, but at least i had the foresight to bring sunglasses. Eventually I cross the street and, nearing the cathedral, I can tell that the front of the building has been converted into some kind of strip mall. A decrepit awning that looks to be part of the original structure hangs haphazardly over the windows of a greasy diner, a record store, and CD store respectively. Against my better judgement I enter the record store, not really planning on buying anything, Just inside the door, to the left sits the owner of the store, a somewhat stereotypical east coast Italian American immigrant wearing a loos fitting Hawaiian shirt with a watch and a gold chain around his neck. He encouraged me to look around and I thank him. The store is tiny, but I do manage to find a pathetic metal section. I don’t spend very long looking around but I do spot a copy of the Thou/The Body collaboration “You, Whom I Have Always Hated”.

Later in the dream, I somehow get wrapped up in a tour of an old monastery with a couple of friends. We are led from the garden area by a monk, up three of four levels, in a staircase reminiscent of an elementary school. The entire building reminds me of 5th grade. Eventually we reach our destination. The room we enter is extremely long and narrow with a poorly set concrete floor painted orange and lumpy blue stucco walls. At the very end, faint light filters through a very small leaded glass window. About halfway down the room sits an old, grim professor-ly man. He’s seated at a small wooden desk, facing the door with barely enough room to keep his heaps of paper in order. He stands up and beckons us over, picking up his chair in the process and walking it down to the end of the room to set it down under the window. We squeeze past him, the room is barely wide enough to fit two people shoulder shoulder, as he returns to grab more chairs. As I move down the room, I notice a hole in the wall at about shin level. Filling the hole is someone’s face, painted blue to match the wall. Their eyes are closed and their face remains impassive as we walk by. Once we’re seated, a woman I don’t recognize enters the room and walks towards us. She stops to berate the professor for another seat. Meekly, he fetches her a chair and she sits next to me. She turns to me and begins talking in an insane fashion about her family, hair in the drain and blood. Hair and blood, over and over again. At some point, we fulfill our unclear purpose in the room and the professor, now taking on a decidedly aggressive and dark aura beckons us to follow him. As everyone leaves, when no one is looking, I stop to take a few pictures of the face in the wall. As soon as I take out my camera, the face comes to life and smiles as widely as possible. Unable to stop myself, i begin giggling and the face follows suit. The perspective changes slightly and what is instead of the wall is a window with the blinds down, a hole is cut in the slats where this person’s face protrudes, but I can see their body, also painted blue, through the slats. Suddenly I feel the malevolent presence of the professor bearing down on me from the other side of the room, so I put away my camera and leave with the group. We are then moved to a similar room, in which the professor begins setting up a projector for a movie viewing. This time my parents and brother have shown up and are watching this too. The movie ends up being a surreal “nature documentary” about the absolute preeminence of white tigers in the wild. I recognize this as being a feature of a past dream, and look over to my parents to confirm it, which they do. Dream end.

[shannrussell-blog1]

We’ve all been there. You’ve stuffed your luggage to the brim on your trip, and now your luggage is a little on the heavy side.

But, how could you have avoided this in the first place? Well, in this article we talk you through all of our best tips so that you don’t end up forking out cash at the gate.

1. Bring a backup digital luggage scale

Are you 2kg overweight? Then it’s going to cost you. For domestic flights, it’s not quite as bad, but for international travel, it’s definitely more.

If you’re convinced that the scales at your house or accommodation are a little dodgy, or you reckon you can sneak in a few cheeky purchases in under the 7kg mark – then you might want to double check to be sure.

A digital luggage scale is a super handy item to have in this instance – whether you’re travelling internationally or domestically. This one from Korjo can weigh up to 44kg, is easy to read and is nice and lightweight at 110 grams as well. All you have to to do is attach it to your bag, lift it up, wait for the beep, put it down and it’ll tell you the weight of your luggage. Just check that you turn off the scales to save on the battery life so that it doesn’t die on you in the critical moment!

If you are over, at least you have time to put on your extra jumper, ditch your extra toiletries, or throw out the packaging from your holiday souvenirs that you don’t need before you arrive at the airport.

A portable luggage scale gives you an accurate reading of the weight of your bag wherever you are. Image: Korjo

2. Carry the lightest bag you have

This one seems like it might be obvious, but if you’ve been using the same clunky carry-on since the dawn of time, then it might be time to ditch it in for one that’s a little more streamlined and lightweight.

You still want something structured to protect your belongings. But heavy hardware and extra bits of plastic are not going to do you any favours in the weight department.

Weigh your bag before you use it so that you know exactly how much it’s setting you back. You’d be surprised how heavy luggage can be on its own!

A lighter carry-on is the easiest step to reducing your travel weight. Image: Eagle Creek

3. Check the rules thoroughly

We all subscribe to those websites that send you amazing travel deals. A weekend to the Gold Coast for an absolute steal, or a week in Thailand without draining your savings account. But have you checked the baggage limit, or any other limitations before you hit ‘check out’? It might be too good to be true.

If you’ve already thought about hitting the shops and treating yourself to some holiday souvenirs, then you might want to reign yourself back in. It might be too good to be true, so read up on the finer details so you know what you’re getting yourself into.

The rule of thumb is that the more budget the airline, the more likely they are to crack down on overweight luggage.

Check out our table below which has all the details on the size and carry on weight limits for all the major airlines worldwide.

Airline carry on allowances

Airline Carry On Allowance Max Dimensions Max. Weight

Air Asia 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 56cm x 36cm x 23cm 7kg Air New Zealand 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item Combined length, width and height to be under 118cm 7kg British Airways 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 56cm x 45cm x 25cm 23kg Cathay Pacific 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 56cm x 36cm x 23cm 7kg China Airlines 1 cabin bag 56cm x 36cm x 23cm 7kg Emirates 1 cabin bag 55cm x 38cm x 20cm 7kg Etihad Airways 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 50cm x 40cm x 25cm 7kg Fiji Airways 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 55cm x40cm x 23cm 7kg Garuda Indonesia 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 56cm x 36cm x 23cm 7kg Japan Airlines 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 55cm x 40cm x 25cm 10kg Jetstar 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 55cm x 36cm x 23cm 7kg KLM 1 cabin bag 55cm x 35cm x 25cm 12kg Lufthansa 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 55cm x 40cm x 23cm 8kg Malaysia Airlines 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 55cm x 35cm x 25cm 7kg Qantas 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 48cm x 34cm x 23cm 7kg Qatar Airways 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 50cm x 37cm x 25cm 7kg Scoot 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 54cm x 38cm x 23cm 7kg Singapore Airlines 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item Combined length, width and height to be under 118cm 7kg Thai Airways 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 56cm x 45cm x 25cm 7kg Tigerair 2 bags 54cm x 38cm x 23cm 7kg United 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 56cm x 35cm x 22cm No weight limit Virgin Australia 1 cabin bag + 1 personal item 48cm x 34cm x 23cm 7kg

Personal items include handbag, briefcase, laptop computer, camera bag, crutches, umbrella, etc

Table correct as of March 9th, 2018

4. Buy additional baggage online, not at the airport!

If you’re planning on packing extra or taking home some new purchases – then you will save money by buying extra baggage before the flight. This is because overweight baggage fees are higher than pre-purchasing additional baggage.

If you just know that you’ll want that extra wiggle room when it comes to weight, then bite the bullet and buy additional baggage before your flight.

If you do need extra storage space, having a lightweight duffle bag with you as well as compression travel bags for packing will come in handy. They won’t save weight, but you will be able to squeeze more gear in if your bag is overflowing.

If you know you need to pack more than just the bare necessities, purchase additional baggage. Image: Eagle Creek

5. Use your frequent flyer points

If you’re lucky enough to travel regularly, then you’ve probably racked up some frequent flyer points on your account.

What you might not know is that some airlines – such as Qantas, allow you to use them to buy additional baggage before your flight, which is a perfect solution to an overstuffed suitcase.

Don’t be that crazy looking person pulling on an extra pair of pants, three jumpers and two coats on at the baggage counter – prepare for your trip so that you can (hopefully) breeze through the airport without any extra fees or charges.

Do you have any other handy tips for avoiding overweight baggage fees? Let us know in the comments. For more travel tips and inspiration, head here.

The post How to Avoid Overweight Baggage Fees appeared first on Snowys Blog.

[spicynbachili1]

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey travelogue | Rock Paper Shotgun

Very similar to its predecessor, Murderer’s Creed Odyssey has snared me with its marvellous digital camera. With it, I’ve been exploring and snapping Greece, all the way in which from the Ionian Islands within the west to the Cyclades within the east. I do know I must be worrying about wars and oldsters and magical spears, however that’s all ancillary to the scenes and vignettes taking part in out on the paved streets and grime paths that weave throughout the Hellenic world.

Greece is stuffed with unbelievable views, epic monuments and, right away, an enormous statue of Zeus dominating the panorama, huge willy hanging out for the world to see. There’s no dearth of issues to climb and, extra importantly, , however my screenshot folder has much more snapshots of standard life, of individuals working and partying, or of little bits of putting structure, particularly of the ruined selection.

It’s very tempting to hurry by Kephallonia. It’s the ‘starter island’ holding you again from the great things, like Athens! That’s what you actually need to see, proper? Kephallonia is a fairly occurring place, although. It is best to stick round. Other than having that massive ol’ Zeus statue that may be seen even throughout the ocean, there’s additionally Ithaka, the house of Odysseus. Ah-ha! Odysseus, Odyssey, all of it is smart!

The island of Ithaka has been related to Homer’s Ithaka since antiquity, although there’s at all times been some debate about which of the islands within the space really relate to those talked about by Homer in The Odyssey. Ithaka has been utilizing the identify for thus lengthy, although, that it appears a bit impolite to rock the boat now. Ubisoft’s fairly assured that it’s the appropriate one; a lot in order that Odysseus’ palace, or at the least its ruins, are proper there ready to be explored.

Kephallonia additionally hosts Greece’s saddest musician. This gloomy fella stood at a muddy, empty crossroads and began mournfully strumming away. I like him. He appears like a drained conman who’s determined to go straight and fall again on his past love: music. There’s positively a TV present on this, and it completely writes itself. We may name it ‘Lyre, Lyre’. That is pure gold.

I needed to depart finally. “Present me Athens,” I stated. “No,” replied Odyssey. As an alternative, I used to be dragged to Megaris, below siege by the Spartans, adopted by Phokis, which is even additional away from Athens than Megaris. I’m a giant metropolis boy, what can I say? Stepping off the ship, my first impressions of Phokis have been… not nice.

He’s daring, I’ll give him that. Proper out within the open, no wall, not a care on this planet. And who am I to guage? I’m standing proper behind him taking images, which is at the least as impolite, if no more. He’s not consultant of Phokis, although, and it’s really fairly good. It’s finest generally known as the area that contained Delphi, residence to Apollo’s oracle. The ruins of the Temple of Apollo persist in the present day and have a pleasant view of the valley. Even right here, within the fifth century BC, the temple is a sizzling vacationer vacation spot, and it’s a bit on the busy facet. I searched round for someplace extra serene.

Down the hill from Delphi, there’s a beautiful amphitheatre. I wandered into it one morning whereas it was principally empty. There have been no performs, no speeches, simply a few folks having fun with a morning stroll, like myself, and a few brightly-coloured birds chirping away. Being the birthplace of theatre, they’re a dime a dozen in Greece, however this amphitheatre had a way more memorable environment, virtually contemplative. I give it 5 stars on Hellenic Tripadvisor.

It was time, lastly, to move to Athens. Moderately than crusing into the harbour at Piraeus, Odyssey directed me behind Athens, touchdown on the east coast after which making the remainder of the journey on horseback. It’s all for the large reveal, which Ubisoft has turn out to be fairly good at pulling off. Arriving this manner offers one of the best views of town, with the Acropolis and Parthenon looming over town.

It’s a bustling place, is Athens. It’s not crowded, not in the way in which that outdated Murderer’s Creed cities have been, which implies it’s simpler to get round in your horse, nevertheless it nonetheless feels very busy. Each nook of it’s stuffed with one thing: a surprising piece of artwork, a store, somebody simply working – flip a nook or pop into somebody’s residence and also you’re sure to seek out an eye catching distraction. The statuary specifically is a spotlight, and it simply retains on giving.

Odyssey has nice statues. One of the best statues, frankly. You’ll find them in every single place, however clearly the best focus is within the massive cities like Athens. And one of the best half: most of them are painted. The white marble statue is synonymous with the traditional world, significantly Greece and Rome, however we’ve identified for some time that the majority of those statues would have been extraordinarily vibrant, like this gesticulating fella. They have been gaudy and vibrant, and I’ve at all times questioned what it should have been wish to stroll by a metropolis filled with them. Plenty of enjoyable, it seems!

Whereas the paint has been worn away by time, tiny particles have continued and will be revealed below UV gentle. Extra methods can then provide up additional further particulars about what it as soon as regarded like. Discovering out what color the paints have been, as an example, will be accomplished by figuring out the substances of the paint. Should you’re up for some additional studying, take a look at this extra detailed clarification of the method.

They aren’t all painted, thoughts. Right here’s Theseus battering the Minotaur, immortalised in bronze. Theseus was an Athenian hero, so after all he will get a pleasant statue in his hometown. The positioning of his well-known brawl with the bull is way to the south, nonetheless, in Crete.

I got here throughout a number of workshops, too, the place they have been being dropped at life with chisel and paint, although the most important isn’t in Athens, it’s on the island of Paros. Big blocks of marble take up many of the docks, whereas the city is stuffed with half-finished gods, animals and heroes. Proper subsequent to the works-in-progress are loads of completed items, able to be shipped throughout the ocean. It’s fascinating to observe folks working away. Their loops and schedules are easy, however there are simply so a lot of them. Alice captured a bunch of them when she went on a tour of Delphi.

Listed below are some early birds hitting the clay pits simply after daybreak. The Greek starvation for pottery can’t be sated. I really feel a bit of bit responsible as a result of my splashing round disrupted their work. Sorry!

I spent a very long time wandering round Athens and the encompassing space, however the remainder of the world was calling to me. To the east have been numerous islands, and to the south was the Peloponnese, residence of the Peloponnesian League and its chief, Sparta. Driving or crusing from Athens, you’ll be able to hit Korinth, Argo, Sparta and Olympia one after the opposite, like a grand tour of traditionally well-known Greek city-states.

Greece’s cities are much less various than ones present in Origins. Ptolemaic Egypt was a melting pot the place Roman, Greek and Egyptian tradition clashed and mingled. Greek temples confronted enormous pyramids, whereas Roman mansions sat simply up the street from Egyptian huts. Many of the city-states have a definite aesthetic, nonetheless, and a tone that units them other than their allies and foes.

Korinth is especially beautiful, in nice half because of all of the blossoming cherry timber that line the streets. Most cities have a color that they favour, together with the purple and blue that exhibits whether or not they assist Sparta or Athens within the warfare. Korinth additionally has an intimidating acropolis that takes ages to clamber up. Akrokorinth is an intimidating rock and the right place for a fortress, and whereas it is going to be become a fort within the years following, at this level it’s the positioning of temple devoted to Aphrodite.

These revellers have been very into Aphrodite. Have a look at them go. It’s additionally barely tragic, nonetheless, for I couldn’t be part of them. I needed to, however all I may do was awkwardly shuffle a bit. And duck. That’s not a dance.

In a park on the sting of town, I got here throughout this pair engaged on a masterpiece. The sunshine was clearly dying, making it a horrible time for portray, however what do I do know? I’m not a painter. I’m certain it can end up simply high-quality.

Pastimes in Sparta are a bit of bit totally different. Its main business is producing buff dudes who don’t like garments, so there’s an actual health focus. These guys are so decided to work on their muscular tissues that they’re fully ignoring the truth that, simply behind them, two males have already been devoured by a wolf. You may simply make out the blood and a limb or two. Sparta’s a troublesome place. There’s a warfare to win, and solely the most important muscular tissues will do.

The Peloponnesian Battle was one of many defining moments of antiquity and heralded the tip of the Golden Age of Greece. Odyssey depicts the warfare as one between Athens and Sparta, with the remainder of the islands and city-states loosely supporting one or the opposite till a battle makes them change arms. It’s true that the pair led their respective alliances, the Delian League and Peloponnesian League, however that’s the place the similarities finish. Many of the mainland really supported Sparta, together with the likes of Megaris and Argo, each of that are Athenian in Odyssey. Athens’ energy was in its naval empire and its fleet. It wasn’t a neat, symmetrical warfare, which might just about undo Odyssey’s warfare system.

The results of the warfare, and the earlier one with Persia, are scattered across the map. Ruined villages, corpses, patrols duking it out by the facet of the street – Greece is fairly, however it may be fairly violent, too. This settlement was destroyed by the Persians, and even after their defeat at Salamis and Plataea, ending the Persian Battle, the empire continued to meddle. They supported Sparta through the Peloponnesian Battle, then aided Sparta’s ex-allies after they teamed up with Athens to take Sparta down a peg or two a decade later.

Heaped on high of the warfare are plagues, famines and frontier justice, abandoning loads of mourners crying by graves and tombs.

It’s all getting a bit gloomy, so let’s transfer onto extra nice issues. Like animals! Odyssey has an abundance of critters, and they’re all very, superb. Have a look at this bear, utilizing a street like an individual. Isn’t it lovable? Positive, it’s really chasing me and, 5 seconds after taking this image, it knocks me off my horse and kills me. I’ve no regrets.

I discovered this good boy operating up and down this one stretch of street, splashing within the puddles. That is likely to be all its programmed to do, however I’ve seen canine fortunately do that for ages, so I’m satisfied that is an correct simulation of doggy behaviour.

The partitions of the Makedonian metropolis of Amphipolis mix my two favorite issues: rad statues and funky animals. In 100 years, Alexander the Nice will stride out of this kingdom and carve out an enormous empire, nevertheless it was fairly quiet after I popped over to snap these screenshots. There are many actual lions, as nicely, however I stored forgetting to take an image as I ran for my life.

Odyssey’s model of mainland Greece takes a very long time to discover, nevertheless it’s solely half of the map. There are islands dotted far and wide, however most of them are within the Aegean. Every of them is that this little enigma ready to be unravelled, spinning tales by quests and obsessively detailed environments.

The very first thing you see if you sail into Naxos, an island within the Cyclades, is the Temple of Apollo, which nonetheless appears out over the boats in the present day. The temple wasn’t accomplished earlier than the tyrant who commissioned it was overthrown, however for some purpose these guys nonetheless appear to be making an attempt 70 years after work on it stopped. That’s dedication! It’s a fairly good match for the actual temple, as well.

I took an image final yr, and actually the one massive distinction is all of the vacationers.

Regardless of the outstanding location of the temple, Dionysus was Naxos’ patron deity, not Apollo, which is fairly apparent after spending solely 5 minutes on the boozy island. I ought to have taken a video of this fella as a result of no person has ever pressed grapes so self-consciously earlier than, I’m certain of it. He was so delicate about it, too, making these little hops, adopted by furtive glances. It was very odd, but in addition totally fascinating.

Dionysus was the god of wine, however he was additionally the god of being a complete dick. Our Minotaur-murdering pal Theseus ended up on the island after escaping Crete with Ariadne. In some variations of the parable, Theseus, being a complete dick himself, merely abandons Ariadne, whereas others say Dionysus compelled him to depart with out her. Both means, this bushy, drunk god finds this heartbroken lady and promptly marries her. Gods are shady. Then there was the time when he killed his cousin who, in equity, was additionally a dick. It’s a theme. Pentheus was spying on one in every of Dionysus’ events when the god appeared, drove his followers mad after which watched as they ripped him limb from limb, believing him to be a lion. His personal mom ripped his head proper off. Crikey.

It’s the center of the day after I begin exploring Naxos, however individuals are already knocking again the bowls of wine. Beneath a tree I see some tipsy canoodling, but in addition this solitary hunk. If it wasn’t for the man about to throw up behind him, this could be attractive calendar materials. You’ll discover somebody to canoodle with sooner or later, man!

Every island has one thing that makes it particular. Even when it’s only a man tenting along with his finest good friend, a goat.

Or this haunted Minoan smash that appears to be protected by scary cats. You may’t see them, however they’re lurking within the shadows, ready to chase me off once more.

Given the scale of the factor, it’s ridiculous that there so many discrete, thoughtfully crafted areas that you just may solely spend 5 minutes in, if any time in any respect. On the north coast of the Peloponnese are numerous shipwrecks. I sailed by and it piqued my curiosity, so I dropped anchor and swam over. There have been some quests there, however I hadn’t been directed to the spot. It’s an enormous ship graveyard that’s been reworked right into a city. Houses have been constructed out of the wrecks, whereas scavengers work up and down the seashore, prying wooden from the lifeless ships. I may fill an entire album simply with the screenshots I took there alone.

I’m not fairly accomplished with it. Odyssey is a lot greater than its story, and there are such a lot of locations the place I rushed by on my means some other place or haven’t visited in any respect. Like Origins, a Discovery Mode is within the works, taking you on guided excursions on Greece, however there’s one thing to be stated for simply aimlessly wandering throughout the map. It’s one of the vital spectacular areas Ubisoft’s ever created, and even with out the historic context or narration, it’s simply an incredible factor to have a look at.

from SpicyNBAChili.com http://spicymoviechili.spicynbachili.com/assassins-creed-odyssey-travelogue-rock-paper-shotgun/

[easkyrah]

An Assassin’s Affection 2

The dark-haired female stares at herself in the mirror, staring at every blemish and scar decorating her own face. If she’d been a tapestry, she’d been strung and strewn over layers of needlework, many loose strings and scissors surrounding her.

“Oh, how your kingdom will fall

when you find that your discarded pawn

was the queen all along”

[Nessian Assassin AU]

Varian had patched her silently as she stared blandly at the wall. The faint sounds of water droplets hitting the cement broke the silence, with the atmosphere of the void of emptiness persisting. The empty warehouse had been a meeting point of theirs, just to trade information that leaked through her employer’s mouth or the ones that the streets whispered when she coasted on the rooftops; he just told her anything she asked to ease her mission stuffed into her arms she had no part she desired of.

One of the notorious underground crime lords, he had become one of her unlikely allies as she had posed as one of his escorts to kill one of his contacts—also one of Tomas’s targets. Varian hadn’t noticed her among his personal escorts and immediately ordered her capture, but she’d escape, only to see him the next day, holding a silver dagger through the heart of one of her targets. He offered a deal, and she took it, needing every ounce of help and assistance she could find in this black and dark world where it seemed only monsters thrive.

He slew the last stitch through her, a slight hiss escaping her throat. A tap to her wrist indicated that he was done, and she flexed her shoulders.

She knew Varian had most likely looked her up as soon as they started seeing each other in the most unlikely places that was not meant for a consort. It didn’t matter as soon as he saw her snap the neck of one of the other target’s bodyguards and shoot the target through the head. He knew that she wasn’t pure and what she stood for. He knew who she worked for, and had stood disgusted, not that she blamed him.

Until she could pay off her debts to Tomas for the shelter, however unwillingly, and all the weapons she used, she remained hostage to him. Varian had set up a trust fund in the underground markets for her, and some nights, she would see him surreptitiously dropping a gold coin or two into her bank deposit.

He was the Phoenix’s shadow, or no way near her guardian angel. An older brother of sorts. They had never had a full on normal conservation, discussing this arrangement of theirs, but Nesta didn’t mind.

She pressed a ruby necklace in his hand, the one he’d been eyeing from the shops the last time they’d stood together at the end of the sewers, searching for one of the other crime lord’s one-eyed informats scurrying around.

A faint smile graced his lips and he slipped the pendant into his pocket. She changed out of the hospital gown cut open at the back and into her gear as he washed his hands with brutal efficiency, packing his medical kit. She saluted him as she headed for the door, throwing open the metal panel. However, before he returned her usual farewell with a tip of his hat, and jumped out the window, he whispered a request in her ear, leaving her face ashen for a split-second.

Nesta nodded, and a viper’s smile formed on her face.

The hardest part of the ordeal was shopping for clothes. She had headed for the athletic section, still finding the entirely cotton shirts worthless and unnervingly short pants absolutely ridiculous.

Dismissing one of the store employers who didn’t seem to know the difference between a strain and a sprain, Nesta grabbed a set of blouses and other unnecessary pairs of jeans that would hinder her maximum performance if she was caught in the middle of a fight. The most dangerous enemies knew what her true face looked like without a mask and would most likely be tracking her every moment.

She didn’t like this different approach, and gritted her teeth as she went to the cash register. When the worker dared to short-change her, Nesta called the manager and threatened to sue, pulling up her shades to indicate that she meant business. The tiny man had profusely apologized and let her choose another set of clothes for free, in which she took up, sneaking in a pair of boots when the cameras weren’t looking.

Sighing, she closed her trunk shut, and cursed loudly as her earpiece crackled into existence.

“Get your fine piece of ass over to second base,” Tomas said, and then shut down the link.

Nesta instantly shut her car door, and changed into her gear, sending a blessing for the tinted windows. By the time she arrived at the warehouse, the clouds had matched her mood, gray streaks piercing the air. Soft rain pattered down her windshield, and Nesta shoved her bags under the seat lest one of Tomas’s goons catch sight of her non-contraband materials by any chance.

When she stalked inside, forcing herself to loosen her muscles, the man of her nightmares sat at the head of a table, another of his acquaintances in a black trench suit sitting on his left.

The man turned, and she recognized the one-eyed man. Or at least, now two-eyed man. Varian had pinched out the other orb at as a means of last resort in extracting information when the man wouldn’t speak of Tomas’s plans.

“Hello, Nesta.” Tomas grinned, and gestured to the empty seat to his right. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Dining with the wolves. Her favorite.

She obediently sat, wondering why he was here. Varian nor her hadn’t tipped him off of who she was, wearing one of her random masks that she fine-tuned to change a bit in appearance every time she hit the streets.

“This here is a man who was attempting to rise to the top of the hierarchy.” Tomas gleefully gestured to his left, but the man showed no indication of hearing. Her employer frowned, eyes flashing. “You see, Nesta, he’s blind because two bitches on the streets took his eye. The first was his employer, and the second a man he wants to kill.”

She slid a dagger out of her sleeve, and glanced at the man warily. Those pinkish, dirty yellow colors swirling around in his eyes were the first sign of infection. He should be demanding treatment, but��

“Tonight, this man will take you, and then you will continue with your latest mission.” Those black eyes pitied against, and Nesta felt bile roll up in her mouth. It had been a month since her employer had scheduled her appointment in the sex trade, choosing instead to use her abilities out on the field where a different type of monster of degradement awaited.

The man, looking straight ahead, placed a pair of steel chains on the table, the clinking sound having her insides shudder. She knew what he wanted to do to her, and her toes curled in protest.

“No,” Nesta said, watching the man’s eyes furrow. “No,” she repeated, this time louder.

“No?” Tomas snapped, almost disbelievingly. “You don’t have any choices here. You have no say and no freedom, and no right to decline.”

Her eyes turned to storm, and her back straightened, a pillar of steel and ice. “You had no right to kidnap me a rape me no more than any other female around here. You shaped me into a weapon when I was weak. You are lucky I continue to kill and pay my debts that I should never had accumulated in the first place. So no, Tomas, look for another girl to pick on.”

“You will respect me!” Tomas roared, and within a second, a whip laid wrapped around his wrists.

She flinched, and he grinned, one smile full of vile and vices. The way he moved that whip—

Nesta lifted her head. “This is not respect. This is control and dominance. This is abuse.”

The other man cocked his head, rubbing a knuckle. Slowly, his head turned towards Tomas, who was breathing heavily. “She’s a bitch, isn’t she?” He lowered his voice. “I don’t need to see her to know what fun she’ll be under me.”

“I may be a bitch, but no female deserves to be treated like this,” Nesta hissed, and flung the dagger outwards, a second following a different path. She didn’t watch them hit their targets as she fled the building, starting the engine.

No one followed her as she jerked the truck forward, the taste of blood clogging her nostrils and the tang of metal ringing in her ears.

The bar was a sorry excuse for one, with cheap shots and disgusting liquid that stung as it poured down her throat. Nesta didn’t care, as long as no one recognized her. She’d braided her hair and changed into one of the fruitless pieces of material that exposed more skin than she’d liked. Loud music drained out any thoughts as she tried to imagine the expressions that would cloud the other trained faces she’s seen walking in the hallways—what they would think when their boss no more.

She knew someone would seek retaliation against her for the second man’s death. There was always unwarranted ties and unspoken alliances that spun through the underground streets, fueling the tensions and cracks in their bittered society. The second man’s eyes had been gutted partly because of her, and his death had been laid in her hands. His last wisps of air, Nesta had decided, would serve as a symbol to others that would seek vengeance against her.

Her blade had flung at an expert arc horizontally that had sliced through his neck completely. A beheading.

An execution. Those soulless eyes had blinked no more.

Tomas was a different story.

It had been unspeakable to lay a hand nor speak a syllable in front of her master. There were no consequences for killing a boss since no one would dare in the first place. Except Nesta knew she hadn’t murdered Tomas with the first blade that had landed directly between his eyes. If she had, she would have accumulated more death and decay her already full plate would have no means of rejecting.

She’d thrown the dagger so softly at Tomas it’d barely pierce his flesh. No, at most the blade would hit his frontal bone and spur him unconscious. He’d bleed out, risk brain damage, but be alive—and live to torture another soul.

He wouldn’t die by her hand. She had made sure of that.

“I need a body to experiment a new drug on,” Varian had whispered in the warehouse hours ago. “By the end of the day.”

So Nesta had obliged, providing him with Tomas’s body.

Varian had headed over and stolen his body, interrogating his last minutes on Earth. He had asked why she’d provided him with this body over the blind man’s; she’d only replied with a sick smile plastered on her face, over their untraceable phone, “It’s him.”

The man who had created this nightmare and kept her under it for years—when she needed respite with peaceful dreams rather than the undulating, poisonous thoughts. The one who had touched her where she had deserved to be worshipped. The man who had broke her when she needed someone to build her up.

So Varian had informed her he had pumped Tomas’s body with morphine and other drugs to keep his brain fluids from leaking and heart beating—so that after the tested the opiate, he could further wreck pain like no other on Tomas’s body.

Nesta had merely stated to make sure that his dick was caught off and he was whipped.

Tomas’s last moments here wouldn’t be pretty, nor would it be grand. It would be brutal and messy, Varian gutting apart each socket and stuffing pins and needles through his sunken flesh.

A cold smile seared her face, and she sipped the cup harshly.

“You’re looking a little tense there, sweetheart.” A male voice, dripping honey, appeared next to her. A large, well-built body slid in the stool next to her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Beautiful, deep brown eyes with ropes of corded muscle that white-collared shirt could not hide. Each movement had a ripple of tendon as he flexed his arms in a casual manner Nesta knew all too well. He looked oddly familiar as he waved the bartender over, and there was something to that rugged face that sent her on edge.

No rutting way. Even though that shot had been across ten buildings, she would never forget that smirk as her bullet had sunken through the wrong person. Her first missed shot. Her first whipping. Her first realization that she deserved more, than just pain and emptiness.

His own appearance didn’t seem quite as fully relaxed, those arms tense as if readying for a fight. The gauze and pad on his shoulder had her more suspicious. Her nail jabbed it, not too nicely. “Where did you get that?”

The male huffed and flinched as pain shot through his shoulder. “Just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

That confirmed her fears and she flung out of the seat and headed towards the bathroom. A sense of calm rage appeared over her, and senseless feelings of violence and the absence of peace had long nagged at her. Two women emerged from the bathroom, clad in skimpy clothing and red lipstick dotting their mouths.

She froze as they passed her, completely oblivious to her ignorance.

Those mouse brown strands of hair, one shorter than the other, her giggle—the older one’s hand on the younger’s elbow as they sashayed onto the dance floor—

Her sisters were in town.

Nesta cursed herself and the world as she went into the parking lot, the cold air kissing her skin. She found herself shivering for no reason, not when this night was nothing compared to others of being locked outside, chained to a lamppost, where other males would paw and jeer at her.

She didn’t know silent tears had flowed down her face until a thumb gently wiped it away, and the male at the bar stood in front of her. It had taken her entire willpower to allow him to sneak up on her and let him carry on his business. Except she didn’t think he would approach her.

“I’m Cassian,” he offered, his own body radiating heat and warmth.

She deserved to rot in empty coldness for every body that was now decaying and decomposing because of her. They taught her to have no remorse, and to not think except to focus on her next assignment. But Nesta was human and had a family before, so she’d transformed into a shell instead of a truly empty weapon. She’d become fixed between knowing her own mortality and the deaths of others, her mind shattered beyond repaired. There was no healing and mending save for her own injuries.

Cassian stared at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “Crying is just a sign of being strong for too long.” He hesitated for a second before extending an open palm. “Would you like to go out for dinner?”

Nesta looked down at his hand. At what he could give her: happiness and contentment and undeserved fortitude.

So she stared at him, letting that calm mask fall over her face. “No,” she firmly said, and headed towards her truck. She could feel the other male’s eyes burning in hers, and she wondered if he had been outright rejected before.

No.

She needed to think, and Cassian had already started to plague her mind. Too much emotion in too little time—her sisters were here, and Nesta needed to get her hands on that file, and see what Tomas accusations against Feyre had deemed her worthy of death.

As she started pulled the gears in reverse, the male stood outside the bar, his hands in his pockets, watching her go—and flee from him as usual.

“She doesn’t recognize me.” He grinned into his earpiece. “At all.”

[leadgen]

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