#fibre processing tools

[ezekiellsplayground]

Some absolutely beautiful tools arrived late last week. The double pitch combs & hackle were custom made for me by Celestial Farms to mach a set of hand carders & small hackle I already had from them. The flicker brush is also from Celestial Farms, bought as a premade from their etsy store.

The two spindles are hand carved by the artisan Carry Cherry Spindles from Russia.

[emcscared-whumps]

WRITING RESOURCES

This post will be updated with new entries

Last updated: 01 Aug, 2024

See the Updated Version!

WRITING TIPS & RESOURCES

ASL: Technicques to Write Signed Dialogue

Disability Writing Guides (Another resource post)

Disabilities that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More Part 1 (Another esource post)

Editing Service (by @concerningwolves)

Emotional Intelligence in Conflict

Ellipsus, the New Collaborative Writing Tool

Difficult Chapters

Drafting: Four Methods for Highly Anxious Individuals

Writing Disability: Overused Tropes

General Writing Resources Post (Collaborative)

Lay or Lie

MS Word Shortcuts Guide

Niel Gaiman Teaches the Art of Storytelling

Platonic Relationship Development

Passive Voice Advice

Publishing

On Punctuating Speech

Scene Transition

Sentence Ending Pointers

YA MacGuffins and Games, A Trope Analysis

Your Readers Don't Know - The Truth of the First 30 Pages

Weirdly Specific but Helpful Character Building Questions

The Writer's Sus Resources Post

The Writer's Workbook

WHUMP

The Anatomy of Kill Blows (Collaborative)

The Biology of Human Survival (Life and Death in Extreme Environments), by Claude A. Piantadosi

Whump Events (A linked Google doc by @whumpsday )

Whump Reference Books (A linked list created by @bump-of-whump )

Whump Resources (A resource post by @a-crumb-of-whump , how to start a whump blog, oc advice, advice on motivation and dealing with discouragement, and games

Iron Comb (Iron combs for processing wood/flax fibre used as a torture device in historical settings)

Mer Whump Bingo by @a-crumb-of-whump

The Whumpy Printing Press is Open for Submissions for Publication of Whumpy Novels!

WOUNDS, INJURIES, & TRAUMA

GSW Recovery - [A] [B] [C]

Malnutrition

Migraines

Passing out from pain

PTSD Dreams

Scar Tissue Info

Sleep Deprivation

Writing Traumatic Injuries Resources (Another resource post)

More Resources for Writing Injuries (Another resource post)

WEAPONS

Gun information

The Safety and Mechanism of a Bolt Action Rifle

Bolt Action Rifle Mechanism (Animated diagram)

Semiautomatic Rifle Mechanism (Animated diagram)

Pump Action Rifle Mechanism (Animated diagram)

CLOTHING

African Women's Fashion (Outfit examples video)

Lady's Clothes Guide

Men's Fashion Guide

Men's Suits Guide

Period Clothing References

Shirt types

Vintage Fashion Clips (Saved for scarf pin :))

MISC

African Hair Care and FAQ

Art Resources and References (Another resource post)

Creating a Chinese Name

Writing Deaf, Mute, or Blind Characters

Place Description Aid...?

Directional Hearing Underwater

Drawing Fat Simple

General Cane Guide

Ideas to Consider when Creating BIPOC Characters

POC Stock Photos

Wheelchair References for Art and Writing (features images) (broken)

Whump Community Directory (Tumblr blogs)

Wikipedia Monster Compilation Pages for People (Another resource post)

If there're any broken links, please let me know!

[sunsettsam]

dressing the hero

I 80s! soldierboy x fem! reader

I warnings: none! pure banter, reader is a little apprehensive/shy at first, reader pining for soldier boy, possible friendship? fluff? soldier boy being a bit of a loveable jerk..

I synopsis: you knew the difficulties that came with being in a company like Vought, even more so having a crush on america's favorite hero.

god you had a massive crush on him..

I mean you really were in love with him, the entanglement of it all was so difficult to deal with.

You weren't a hero, no, you didn't have any abilities, and you didn't have a bomb dropped on you or some weird chemicals put into your system as a baby. You were as normal as one could be, working in the costuming department of Vought as a seamstress, you were a part of the team that manufactured the beloved hero's supe suits and event outfits, custom and american made, just how Vought portrayed themselves to be. you were never out in the field, you only ever saw a glimpse of him and shared quiet moments when he would be forced to come into the studio for nicks in his suit needing repair, or his shield needing polishing.

He was Soldier Boy - of course, he held the hearts of millions in the palm of his hand, with that cocky smirk and gorgeous face there's nothing he probably couldn't get away with. you worked in the fashion department why would he ever-

''anyone in here? need one of you fashion nerds to fix my damn suit'' That voice, oh it was him, there's a familiarity within it, you didn't even have to look toward him, knowing it was him just by the tone and gruff exterior. looking up from your sketchbook, your eyes met his, it was only for a moment before you quickly got up, putting your glasses on, assessing the damage on his suit.

''what happened? was this caused by a mission or-'' you couldn't even finish your sentence before he butted in, almost ignoring you

''some stupid slut decided it was a good idea to try on my helmet during a threesome..'' he looks to you, his gaze calculated and cold.

''oh well that's... i can see the scuff marks...'' you looked closer at his helmet, seeing streaks against the fibre, then seeing the faded white marks on his suit.

''yeah take care of that too while you're at it..'' he grumbles, handing you his suit, which is a bit heavy for you, letting out a small ''oof'' at the sheer weight of it, but nonetheless, bringing it to the large table, laying the suit down, smoothing it out.

he lingered for a bit, watching you work, meticulous with your tools, grabbing the material used in his suit, cutting out the spots that were messed up- presumably during the.. threesome.. and replacing it with better fabric, using black string to thread through the hard exterior of the suit, throwing away the scraps.

''so you're the one making all of our suits huh..'' he asks, pulling a cigarette out from his pocket, lighting it, his fingers encapsulated over the wrapped tobacco, tapping the edge of it before bringing it to his mouth, inhaling it, before letting smoke out.

''well its- not just me- its the department as a whole- but- i- did help Mr. Edgar with the design process..'' you hum, a pin in your mouth as you finish threading the new material onto his suit, making sure to knot it tightly, grabbing scissors and cutting the excess.

he nods, compliant - for some reason he doesn't seem as boisterous or brute as he usually is with Payback. ''so what.. you just.. stay here? in this cramped little studio all day?'' he asks, you nod.

''tsk.. that sucks sweetheart..'' he looks to you ''you look like you don't get out much..'' and you laugh at that, you really didn't. I mean sure you went out to dinner by yourself occasionally but- you were so busy with commissions from Vought that you hardly had time to try and go out on a date. you knew of his nature toward women, how even when he was 'apparently' with crimson countess - he still made himself available to other women, winking at them, acting all cocky, like a self-righteous knight from a fairytale.

''i try to go out..'' you reply, putting the tools down, picking up his helmet, looking at the scuffs before grabbing a can of wd40 and putting some on a cloth, gently rubbing it onto the marks.

''really? where? the bookstore?'' he scoffs, a playful smirk on his face.

''yes actually.. its quite fun.. maybe you'd find something you like in there..''

''readings for nerds..'' he rolls his eyes, trying to get a reaction out of you, to which you take offense - to which he grins.

''reading is for- intellectual people...'' you cite, trying to remain calm and not burst at the seams from his comment, throwing the rag away and grabbing some sealant paint, gently brushing it over the now faded scuff marks.

'riiighhht... yeah.. intellectual people..'' he repeats, smirking. ''well then maybe the next time you're at the bookstore.. pick something out for me.''

that's when you perk up, looking at him, adjusting your stylist glasses, your cheeks go just a tad pink and you blink. he- i mean- the soldier boy- wants you to pick out a book for him? out of your own whim?

''nothing boring okay? i fuckin hate long books.. need somethin with action.. maybe a hot lady on the front of the cover..'' he interjects before you can say anything, noticing your flushed cheeks.

''um- yeah- i can... totally pick up a.. book for you..'' you nod almost eagerly as you finish fixing up his helmet, the sealant paint now dry, and he comes forward, tapping the end of the cigarette on the ground, smushing it beneath his boot.

''good..and.. thanks for the fix-up sweetheart..'' he replies, taking his newly fixed suit and helmet from your hands, you feel a small jolt of electricity as your fingers graze his, and for a moment you almost smile cheekily, a warm feeling spreading throughout your chest, your brain going into overdrive. it was just a book.. he only wanted you to pick out a book for him.. but then again.. he wanted you .. to pick out a book for him... that nickname ringing in your ears like churchbells, and as soon as he leaves, you nearly explode. oh god.. you truly were head over heels for him..

authors note: soooo.. after a long while.. im back! i plan on making this a three part series.. so stay tuned lovies!! thank you all for being patient with me, i have so many ideas to put out!! <3

(please do not copy/ post my works on other platforms!! thank you thank you!!)

[crookedtines]

Hi! I saw your weaving (really gorgeous btw, especially those ducks!) and was inspired to pick up the hobby myself, but I was wondering how difficult it is? And also, would you say it's an expensive hobby to get into? I already sew and do cross stitch, so I've got some experience with fibre crafts.

Thank you! I’m so happy to hear my little ducks have inspired you to learn bandweaving! :)

I’d say pick-up bandweaving (also known as Norwegian pick-up, or Baltic pick-up) is a very approachable style of weaving. It’s basically a plain weave, except you pick up or push down certain warp threads each pass to keep them from being incorporated into the weave. This is what creates the floats that make up the design!

The hardest part, at least for me, is having the patience to count threads to make sure you’re picking up and dropping the right ones. It can be a slow process, but the technique itself is easy to learn! I highly recommend starting with a simple pattern on a narrow band so it's easier to keep track of your threads. If it's your first time weaving I'd also recommend working a few inches, or even a whole band, in just a plain weave without any pick-ups. That way you can get a feel for weaving and work on getting a consistent tension without the added difficulty of following a pattern.

While not the cheapest hobby out there, weaving can be affordable depending on which supplies you choose to use and how much yarn you already own. Though I have to say it has set me on the slippery slope of wanting to buy a loom (pricy) and lots and lots of yarn (always a risk with fiber hobbies). Here are the tools I use and about what I paid for them:

Heddles can get pretty expensive but there are cheaper alternatives out there. Aside from making your own rigid heddle out of wood (I've seen a lot of people laser cut them), you can create a heddle out of string! I haven’t tried this myself, but you can look into backstrap weaving if you’re curious how it’s done. Smaller heddles will also be less expensive.

[aspectpriority]

So like, I have a lot of interest around fibre processing, right? And I'm not someone who has a lot of in-depth knowledge, but I do love the ways you can see aspects of one process or discipline appear in another. Tools that were used for multiple crafts, by-products of one process being used in or as the Basis for another. Things were and still Are far more interconnected than you might realise and that sparks a lot of joy.

[restingwithineywa]

Ashes In her Wake | C18

Over the following month, it was a semi-busy situation between her cave home where every so often, one or both of the teenagers visited and going to the Welcome Landing camp for her lessons which had been very interesting. New tools and surprising slow-paces lessons filled those days and sometimes, they let her forage with them when there wasn’t as much to do as anticipated.

They didn’t just teach her how to nurture salt or how to harvest them, but also things that she needed to learn, like how to properly process or tan hide and how to work it into usages among other things. They did learn of what she was, but Alma had decided not to hide it and they didn’t mention it either. It worked well for the both of them but it made them a little more patient with her.

She had been able to make tack adjustments for Leyapay and with the teen’s visits, they helped her craft together a Pa’li sled from collected reeds. Small, nothing that could be turned into a tent but she needed it to transport hers supplies and baskets as her typical saddle wouldn’t hold much more and she had gained far more supplies than before living out here.

The time at her own place, Alma dedicated to basic chores and improving her aim and bow use, going over her tracking process and a few days ago she had only recently been able to kill a cloaked panther, or Vekreng as Na’vi called them with a clean shot. She felt very proud she had done it both independently and well.

The pullback had stopped aching her as much and she could feel the work was paying off and she had stopped thinking too much about her posture as her body now responded naturally. A few more months until she was more natural with the bow but foundations were in now and the habit.

With salt she had been able to take back, she left the meat to marinate for two days then smoked the rest. What she didn’t keep, she had wrapped ready to deliver to the Welcome Landing to share. So for now, life was content but not for long-term.

“<Ulma!>”

Alma’s head turned and smiled softly at the Heartland’s Ikran that landed a few metres away, blowing up a light mist of air and dust. Leyapay huffed from her place in the grass

“<Ah, Hìsro>” She greeted with a light gesture. “<Just you today?>”

“<Smura is helping her mother with new kite repairs>” He jumped off the back of his Ikran. “<I’ve got the Scubber moss and the Patient elder fibre you requested.>”

Alma gasped happily. “<Really?>” She set down her tools, having been sharpening a bone for a spear tip.

From the back of his saddle, he pulled out a large woven pouch that had moss on one side and the bulbous lumps of the fibre flower heads.

“<It was no trouble, I enjoyed the trip now that I can reach the air.>” He pressed the pouch into her hands. “<But why did you have so much stuff here?>” He looked over her shoulder where her baskets were set up.

“<Not all of it is what I’ll keep>” Alma started, “<Some of is a gift to my teachers. Koko was asking about the basts I live close so I thought I’d get them some. They’re very well-versed in stone carving.>”

Koko was a member of the camp Alma had grown close to over the month. They were very bubbly, a very bright person and eager to show off their collection of pretty rocks they collected from the shores and had shown her a few tricks with them as well. However, they were a lot at once and loud so she took their company sparingly, more so when they’d been drinking. Alma had spent a few times nursing a hang-over there.

“<Also, what I don’t need to take with me, I plan to leave here should any needing wanderer desire it.>” It wasn’t uncommon for caves or areas to have items left behind. Alma knew this on the basis of Kìoetey often returning back to HQ a few times with items clan-made that she didn’t make but found.

With her new spear, she’d leave the resistance spear once she was finished, along with anything else she didn’t need to bring further than this.

Hìsro nodded once in understanding. “<I see.>”

“<Do you want a drink or are you disappearing off?” Alma emptied the pouch into a basket, but slipped in some rock salt and processed bast fibres for him as well as a few herbs she had collected for his efforts.

He graciously accepted with a nod, “<No, I cannot stay longer. I do not think we’ll meet you much before you leave the area. My responsibilities will now only increase now that I can fly with my bonded. Smura may but… she listens to her mother a lot more.>”

That didn’t surprise her. Smura typically visited with Hìsro and not on her own so it wasn’t hard to see why. Still, the teenager still tried when she had the freedom and curiosity to do so.

“<Well, I’ll make sure to let you know before I go at the very least. Two days is my plan. Tomorrow I will spend with the other camp and next, I shall be packing up and going.>”

“<I will try to see you before then>” Hìsro nodded.

They parted and Alma settled back on her rock and got back to sharpening the bone spearhead again.

This spear, she kept the base of it simple; a light wooden shaft to which she had carved dots down, reminiscing in the pattern her glowy dots were down her dominant arm; something with meaning.

Her fingers brushed the healed burns, the tanhì had resurfaced from the healing process but she had noticed now at how the pattern had shifted and probably something Eywa thought was hilarious, the tanhì was now showing a placement of a cluster of dots just at her ribs reminiscing of the space where Nor had stabbed her… and just on the right side of her neck as well. Okni. However, the fact it took so long to show up did make her wonder why the shift in her bioluminescence happened.

Getting back to the spear, she was getting the last of it shaped and soon enough, it was done; an effective point. She soothed it down with a piece of hide and some polish made of fat. The Islet Palm basts she had now a good amount of quality twine to work with and resin was an effective glue to hole the spearhead into place in the shaft before she wrapped the bast twine to secure it and set it to dry.

“<You know, I think it’s time I start collecting stuff together.>” Alma muttered, leaving the cave mouth to Leyapay who was stretched out on the grass in front and basking in the sun. Leyapay jumped as she touched her sail, earning a displeased huff but thankfully didn’t get up and bolt.

“<Reorganise my baskets… sort through the gifts. Finish up any last processing of my materials...>” She patted her head idly for a moment.

Alma opted to do just that. One basket at a time and pulling the sled out into place did she empty them onto the grass.

Bones of various shapes became piled, the fresh stuff was separated from the dry. Her weaving and spinning tools, were stacked neatly together. Her new salt-based tools were sat innocently together. The smoked meat was wrapped together, along with plucked fruits, root vegetables and mushrooms (which she put under a basket and sat on the moment Leyapay realised). Rope, String and twine was not a horrid mess as she expected.

Yarn and thread were still on their bobbins, something she had been doing was spinning all the fibres she had collected and weaved them on the loom. Now being useful to become basket covers so nothing falls out, so the stacks of fabric are laid to the side. The branches for her bow she kept to one side to go straight into the sledge, too big for a basket, her supplies for making smoke bombs were also set closer to her medical goods. Her stolen SID, was wrapped up in a leather pouch, as was her tablet. The paper and notebooks were also set aside along with her family urn. She found her little canteens of paint, one made from eggshells and the others made from plants or were gifted to her.

Alma had five baskets set out, one were for foraging and another was too shallow to be useful in travel so she tucked one into the other and put it straight into the sled.

Bones, she divided up into three piles. The fresh, she kept the long bones and strung them up onto rope to hang off the sled to dry, the left she still tied up put in the basket to be gifted.. The dried, she kept mostly long ones but some of the small ones that could be made into trinkets or arrow heads. She opted to leave the smaller ones inside the cave for anyone else. Those went into her travelling basket.

Alma put back her family urn into the saddlebag along with her tablet, SID and notebook since those was far more important and to be held close. She did slip some wrapped meat into that as a precaution for back-ups. The sled was designed to come off loose in an emergency so she’d lose supplies but keep herself and Leyapay alive.

Hide, she split in half. Not needing as much of the hide herself just yet. Her half went into the basket with bones, tucking in the rope, and string with it when it was full. She secured a piece of fabric over and tied it on with twine and dragged it into the sledge and tied it in.

Her tools, she wrapped separately but put them into the same basket. The more delicate tools, she did have to separate. Paints, and personal care when into the small basket but she didn’t secure them as she needed some for night and for morning.

The meat she separated. She had put used to good portions of her latest kill, but she had mostly made smoked sausages with the intestines which made it easier to transport the meat, the rest were smoked chunks delicately wrapped. She did however pack a few rolls of them to take with her; sausages weren’t really a thing for Na’vi as they typically found other uses for the intestine while she did not. Made use of other parts of the animal she had no interest to use separately either.

In the basket, she first lined it with leaves then a wipe down of ash then another layer before she set the meat and sausages into the bottom. She placed a layer of hide between as she put the rest of the food on top. Separating them each time and aside from some being out for the next day or so, she secured the basket with a cover. Then lastly, she set away her unused cooking supplies into the basket and did a final sweep.

Before dinner, Alma took her time away with her bow and arrow to practise. At dusk, she idly sketched with charcoal the Fool Retreat Mountain, just distantly noting the shimmer of movement that vanished into its shadows.

The Next morning, Alma took her time getting fed and ready, a brief body wash, running her fingers through her hair and winced at the new knots that had appeared in her sleep but couldn’t find the energy to dig out her comb. Honestly, she missed having a damn mirror. She could do her hair on her own but doing it completely blind was another. She needed it braided or something. Still, she’d make do with the comb later tonight.

“<Leyapay,>” She prodded the Direhorse awake, shoving some open fruit she stashed immediately in front of her snout. The whiny huff turned into a higher note before she began to eat it. As she ate, Alma picked up the saddle and settled it on her back. Bonding with her, she coaxed her mount into her feet to secure it and added the basket onto it. She made sure to bring a new but empty fabric bag.

Not fully satisfied, but complying and allowed her to lead on out the familiar way towards Welcome Haven. They stopped a few times in the early morning at a few pitcher plants which perked Leyapay up a lot more. Alma didn’t rush her either, just found herself just quietly observing the scenery as they went. She had brought her charcoal and sketchpad… wouldn’t be a bad idea to draw more of the scenery.

She had picked it up the last month but not gotten into any more than that. A few things, here and there, creatures, Leyapay mostly and some scenery’s. Maybe she could get a last few sketches done before she’d get to the Zeswa camp.

Alma detoured as she got close to the Rumbling rivers, directing towards the Kitemaker’s Perch camp which wasn’t lived in, but visited by the near camps to remain in one piece. No kites in the air, meant it was empty. So Alma set Leyapay to rest near that and wandered towards the landscape towards the cliff side.

Her eyes ran over the plains, still feeling that same sensation of awe before she noticed… bones. Zakru bones that lay exposed to the sun. Clean, sun bleached but…there was no plant growth around or on the bones themselves. They had decorations, of course. The Zeswa had care for it and there were remnants of a tent around but it was gone.

Alma frowned in confusion but it ticked the scientific part of her brain in looking at it. Eywa claimed bones by growing vines or plants around and would slowly consume it over time. Why was this an exception? Distantly, she knew RDA pollution meant Eywa didn’t claim polluted flesh and didn’t grow but there weren’t any signs of that here.

She couldn’t help herself, a hand came and touched the dry bone of the head crest. To touch, she could feel it was old, weathered and delicate. The crest was strong but…she noticed that there was a dark growth within the bone’s natural ribbing within its shadowed areas. Rather than using her own finger, she found a twig and gently scraped it and it came off willingly. Fungus of some sort? Zakru were fungivores and fed exclusively on certain fungal colonies once they were weaned off their mother’s milk.

Alma followed its bones, noting how more of the dark growth decorated its latter half, settling within natural cracks and underneath the carefully placed decoration. Her stomach tightened as she noticed another set of Zakru bones, smaller; so small that it by no mistake was a baby. Perhaps a newborn. But its bones were decorated as well, but… it looked wrong. The bones were looked more bowed underneath the decoration, like rickets. Its crest looked mildly malformed by the tips turning into a few directions. Touching those bones, she could feel they were soft despite their age however she didn’t press to hard. But there were clear signs that the baby Zakru was disease-ridden before birth and born either sick or dead. Mama Zakru here must have caught something off her recent feeding site and accidentally passed it down.

Alma wished for a moment she had a sample kit. Or something to study the black fungus. But… she had nothing.

She pursed her lips, eyeing the bones before she set the stick down and took a seat on the grass; she could at least make note of it. Still, why had no one mentioned this site before?

Alma made a few sketches of both sets of bone on separate sheets, writing her notes on observation and theory on possible fungal infections present on the bones. It felt wonderfully familiar despite lacking real supply to be useful. She picked the stick back up but wrapped it up entirely with a leaf, and gathered some resin from the camp and carefully enshrouded the entire thing, letting it harden on a rock; she wasn’t going to let it fester without sealing it but she could… on the unlikely possibility, get the resistance to run a check. She could ask Tsu’miro about the bones when she got there.

The Direhorse padded up to her and bumped her shoulder clearly bored.

“<Okay, time to go. I get it>” She patted her snout, picked up the sealed leaf and folded her sketchbook shut, slipping it into her basket. She washed her hands before she got back onto the tack and once again, they were on the move.

 - 

Unsurprisingly, the camp was active and alive. Kites were high, a few Zeswa were flying and there looked to be in the starting processes of cleaning and separating meat off a Heartland’s Bladehead, (kxaylkxa in Na’vi) which looked to be sledged there from the harness that still lingered on a few gazing Direhorses.

“<Ulma, come join us.>” The voice was Huzaw.

Huzaw was Tsu’miro’s mate, and often helped when he wasn’t around or too busy. Very on-hands and the fact she was leading the butchering process meant she wanted this done within the day.

“<Huzaw,>” Alma greeted with a smile, jumping off Leyapay and retrieving her basket. “<I.. was hoping to actually drop some of these items off to either you or Tsu’miro.>”

Huzaw now curiously washed her hands from the blood and came over, peering into the basket. “<You do not need them?>”

“<I mentioned to Koko last week I was thinking of getting ready to leave the heartlands and tomorrow, I plan to go.>” Alma said, her thoughts on her detour disappearing as it felt less relevant to ask. “<I feel it is time. My Lessons are done and I’ve got new habits and skills.>”

Huzaw looked a little surprised before she hummed softly, “<I suppose I should not have been surprised. You looked a little more distant than before. Come, let’s take that to the main tent. Many will appreciate the supplies.>”

Alma walked with her up and they were unbothered as she set the basket down. Huzaw helped her empty it, setting the goods away and carefully examining a few of them.

“<What’s this?>” She asked, holding the ring of meat.

“<Meat stuffed intestine. We call them Sausages.>” Alma answered, “<After marinating, I minced the meat and handcuffed them and smoked them over the fire. Just wash and cook if you use them.>”

Huzaw nodded softly, lifting them and setting them on the near-empty rows that often house air-drying meat.

This camp had become a far more familiar place and friendly; she had gotten to know a good amount of people and she knew most by name. Huzaw left but she wasn’t alone for a few seconds before the familiar painted form of Neyre appeared, shadowed by Koko who looked a little paint covered but also a black eye on their face. Probably from a dance-fight.

“<Oh, you’re here early! Great, are you here to help with the butchering?>” She looked very pleased.

“<Not originally, but I can help.>” Sure, messier than imagined but she had the time; why not spend her last day being helpful?

“<Oh?>”

“<Just dropping off gifts. I am leaving tomorrow.>”

Neyre’s head tilted. “<I thought you might stay for longer…still,  I’m sure your aid will be appreciated.>”

Koko’s head tilted. “<I’ve got other ideas. There are other hands helping with the butchering and processing. We can do something else.>”

Alma frowned at the direct stare at her and how closer she got with a more pointed look that she was missing the context of. It made her flush a little.. “<What are you thinking?>” She asked, a little suspiciously.

“<If you’re leaving, then we’ve got to let you go looking decent.>”

Alma blinked in surprise, looking down. “<What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“<Nothing, just let me do your hair. It looks like a mess.>” Neyre remarked, reaching up and tugging a knot in her hair. “<Come.>” she beckoned her along.

<Thank you.>” Honestly, that wasn’t what she had thought of but… she wasn’t gonna turn that offer down at all. She needed it done, even if she hadn’t planned on asking or getting help.

Alma gladly walked and sat in the other smaller tent when instructed and Neyre just tittered about and pulled a few baskets around until she had a few tools that Alma recognised and some she did not. Some small pots were about that looked like lotions or hair supplies. A large bowl of water was placed beside them by Koko who ventured off abruptly with a mutter about decorations.

“<How have you managed this far and still get it into an Ikran’s nest?”

“<I could when I could work on it from the outside.>” She waved her hand, indicating the major reason. It was easier doing her avatar’s hair when she could unlink and do it that way. What she lacked now was the tools and mirror to do it herself so it was harder to maintain on her own. Simple.

Neyre just tittered again, her fingers coming and undoing the old ties she had up and grabbed a comb and immediately began to target the knots, though the tug to the Kuru was not unmissed before she tittered. “<Your Kuru needs to be rebraided. It’s too loose.>” She didn’t wait and dropped the come in favour of just getting to work.

It felt odd, feeling the natural tightness of the air disappear and a coolness wash over the layer of skin and she shivered. It felt far sharper along the exposed skin of the kuru. Unnervingly so too and she could feel the end where the nerves were exposed from the fringes of the hair feel more… erratic.

“<Easy, I know it's uncomfortable.>” Neyre soothed, her fingers quickening until she got to the base where she paused. “<Oh, at the base of the skull.>”

“<It’s one of my difficulties of tending to my kuru.>” Na’vi kuru’s were higher on the head and thus they had an easier time tending to it on their own.

Neyre hummed, pulling the hair from around the kuru entirely and began running her comb down the hair entirely, coming out any small knots and pulling back any loose strands. Soon enough, the kuru was pulled back into place and the braiding process began, swift and relaxing as the neuro whip was once again being covered. She could smell the pleasant floral oils and could feel it was a little slicker but it would keep the hair in much longer

Neyre said nothing, even after the kuru was done and she began to get back to her combing. “<Let’s get this wet and washed, then I can work.>”

Alma helped wash through her hair and picked out a new knots. The oils felt cold on her scalp, but rubbed in nicely. The knots began to get easier to pull out and the comb began to flow easily through her hair.

“<Once the oils are done, we wash it out. Residue will stay but that will be easier to braid them.>” Neyre said. “<We Zeswa use these techniques to braid our hair into more contained shapes than just loose braids. We cannot have our braids so loose. The winds will tear at them.>”

“<I did wonder and I figured it was probably so hair didn’t get into your face every time you turned to and from the wind>”

Neyre chuckled shortly. “<That is another reason>”

Once the oils were washed through, Alma had to stay put as hair was separated and the braiding process began.

Hours ticked by and Neyre was a fast braider but she didn’t stop helping when the offer came and so Koko settled down at the other side of her head. The tightness across her scalp as each braid was done and set off to the side was uncomfortable but having grown up as a teen with braids and different types with extensions, it wasn’t unfamiliar. The tightness would loosen a few days once they were done.

Sometime through, probably six hours after they started, they all pause to go on a break. Alma was glad to get up and stretch her tail, her legs felt cramped and her back ached.

“<We’re two hours away from being done.>” Neyre said, washing her hands from the oil. “<Excuse me>” She disappeared off, allowing Koko to pull Alma away and towards the communal fire where Tsu’miro was seated with a batch of tea. Alma accepted it with a deep sigh and stayed standing, for now, her tail switching with its new freedom.

“<Ulma, Your work of salt have grown quite well. I’ve taken the liberty to harvest salt crystals from deeper within the cave for your trip and I’ve prepared the granules as well. They are in your baskets>” He said brightly. “<I am glad to see you’ve taken our lessons to heart.>”

“<Thank you. You are good teachers. I didn’t realise how much work goes into such a delicate art. I thought you’d turn it into a proper trade. You create a lot>”

Tsu’miro chuckled, his elderly face crinkling. “<It is art, but Eywa’s design still. We create as much as she deems necessary. We gift our share to all of the camps that reside in the Heartlands and to traders coming to our lands. It’s respectable for those who wish for it to learn the efforts. Most from the other camps will often spend time here to learn and understand. It’s our way and will continue to be our way when the heart of our clan return with the Zakru or move on with them. Either way, we will still send our traders out to nourish them with our gifts. We are still one clan.>” He said very passionately. “<I wish to see how the sisters have taken their parent’s mantle.>”

Alma’s head tilted curiously. “<They or you… haven’t visited?>”

“<I have only really seen them since just before their mother’s death and their father stepped down sometime later once Nesim was ready to take the mantle. He came to the Heartlands to die shortly after. He settled himself at the Tree of Echoes and we buried his body once he passed to Eywa. He was a good friend>” Tsu’miro’s eyes were sad in the memory but there was a strong respect for him. Of course, there was. He had been their clan leader.

“<I’m… curious but why do the Zeswa live in camps here away from the Zakru?>” Alma asked. “<I would have thought you stayed as one? To the other clans, you’re known to be a Wandering clan. No roots.>

Tsu’miro’s head tilted, taking a long second to consider. “<The Heart of the Plains was our motherland. Our people wandered from the home clan before as desiring new roots and new meaning. The Heart of the plains was the land of Zakru and where our people first encountered them. Soon connections to the gentle giants became strong… until they realised that the Zakru migrated and struggle followed when the great beasts left. They did not leave the heartlands but other areas. The camps we have here are a reflection of those stops, no matter how small and brief. We created homes. The extra tents that were not needed here and could not be brought were burned in a tremendous ceremony and the Zeswa became forged in the place among the clans. Those Zeswa who wish for roots can come here.>”

Alma listened, her eyes wide as she took in his story. “<But there is another side, isn’t there?>”

Tsu’miro nodded, chuckling. “<You’re bright. Yes, We are here to guard the lands from hostile clans or, more recently, the Sky People. With the news you delivered of the Arches collapsing, it’s a reminder for us to keep vigilant. We cannot have them ruin our ancestral lands. Our people lay within the ground. The Zakru lay beneath the soil. It’s their land too.>”

Alma took a deep gulp of her drink and exhaled deeply. It reminded her how poorly she just… didn’t see before the history and connections they had. She only saw what they lacked… because she thought they could do better. Be better. But their values of ‘better’ lay in far different fields. They didn’t need computers to save stuff or remember, they had Eywa to connect to and to use that network to talk distantly or to preserve information. Humans were far more….superficial in their views. She had been just like that and separating herself emotionally had always been a strong suit of hers. It kept her going whilst in TAP… and after that. Now, within this body for good, it was hard to maintain that. Parts of her ached and relished for connections… to people and things.

They fell into silence peacefully and drank. Alma crouched down with a sigh, rolling her head and feeling the satisfied crack and the relief of the pressure.

Lunch was Sweet-meat steam buns were soon shared by the camp cook, Wukan and there was a small salted paste to add to the sweet buns. First they tore the bun and dipped it before popping it into their mouths. Alma followed their direction but didn’t take a huge amount of the paste before eating it, relishing the battle of flavours that danced across her tongue.

Neyre returned and took one without a word but a nod to Wukan.

However, as lunch was wrapping up, Kxìta, Tsu’miro’s granddaughter came looking very serious, a bow in her hands and tense and came directly to the fire.

“<Grandfather, the Windtraders are in the distance>”

Tsu’miro’s brow pulled in, however. “<How many?>”

“<Five lonatayas, many Ikran. They’re from the northeast. Meitayo territory. They are perhaps... thirty minutes from our shores>”

The air between the Zeswa cooled significantly.

Tsu’miro nodded once, taking charge of this growing situation. “<Then we must prepare to meet them. Come, let’s open up more tents and draw water and food for the Ikrans, they will need nourishment before they continue on their way.>”

There was a flurry of movement as many of the people moved and began to shift items about. Items that were important were pulled from sight and replaced with food, salt and leaves. Water was pulled and left. Fish drying was soon set over to cook over the fire.

“<What is going on?>” She asked, handing back her bowl.

Koko sighed deeply. “<The Windtraders, the Tlalim clan often aid the Meitayo clan in inviting them on drifts whenever they pass over their islands. Their rookery took a huge hit in the war and they’re allowing the population to regrow before they start reusing it for mounts. The Heartland’s one is the next closest so they come annually for new warriors to claim Ikrans. Other times, they leave to find mates or just gather supplies>”

“<Sounds fascinating. How come they’re reliant on the Windtraders?>”

“<I do not know personally. They probably pitied the clan after the war and has helped them since in their rebuilding and growth of new traditions. We do not stop them nor judge the nomads for it as they simply pass through. We value that they make the effort, even in such a Pariah clan.>”

Alma turned her gaze to the horizon but couldn’t see anything, even through the busybodies of people.

“<Come, let us finish your hair and look decent before we get visitors.>” Koko touched her arm.

Alma nodded and returned to the tent and retook her place and soon enough, the comb was back and the tugging started as hair was pulled.

Soon enough Neyre was back and Alma spent most of the time with her head being pulled and twisted and wincing at particular sharp tugs of hair.

She heard the landing, of course. There was a sharp horn echo and the sound of more kites being raised by the snapping of support strings in the wind. The arrival was loud and the sun showed the shadows of many people and things in the air that she had no reference to. Nothing of great detail. But the steps of people weren’t hard to miss nor their shadows.

“<Ah, Mäzan. It is good to see you. Still guiding the young to their new Ikrans.>” Tsu’miro’s voice echoed.

“<Yes, A much-needed trip. A slight change of plans from our typical route with the Tlalim clan. All of our warriors, hunters and gatherers we have brought from the islands will be bonding with an Ikran.>” The voice belonged to a man, he sounded strong and clearly a leader of this small group.

“<So many?>” Tsu’miro echoed in surprise.

“<The winds are changing.>” A new voice echoed this time. “<The Lonataya drift further out and the Windrays find it exhausting to follow against the breeze.>”

“<Peylak>” The voice was far warmer. “<Please, allow your people to come and rest. We have much to share and a visiting guest had recently gifted us with much from her gathering.>”

“<We will take the offer but no more than a few days before the Lonataya become uneasy. As long as no one flies too close the Lonataya’s extensive touch, there should be no injuries.>”

“<Tomorrow our people will find their bonded.>” Mäzan said, a little abrupt. “<We should not linger too long in your territories…>” his voice echoed but clearly walking away with the sound of many feet.

Alma tried to listen out but a jab to her ear pulled her back to the tent she was sitting in.

“<Sorry, Ulma>” Neyre apologised.

“<Interesting, the Tlalim is pulling away from the Meitayo Clan.>” Koko mused, their tone shifting a little and hushed.

“<It could just be as they say, the Windrays drive their flying homes under the strength of the Lonataya. It would be foolish to force them against the natural pathways. Nature changes, even the wind.>”

“<More Ikrans means more travel. Perhaps they’re set to wander for a significant time?>”

Alma smiled a little at the two as they gossiped, but didn’t give her own input into it as they continued to braid her hair.

“<If they are looking for mates, I assume that are you single, Ulma?>” Koko asked, their eyes sparking a little as Alma turned and raised an eyebrow at them.

“<I am but I don’t see myself finding a partner. I’m not exactly someone who Na’vi go for given the nature of my body.>” Alma was dancing close to the reason at hand; the fact she was a Dreamwalker. They knew that even if it was unsaid. “<Plus, I will be leaving tomorrow so I doubt I will make an impression or linger to see where interest goes. I have the Spires to get to, after all>”

“<Aside from the… differences, your face is not…displeasing to look at.>” Koko started, a little uncertain of their words. “<The hair on your brow, I fail to understand why it’s even there to start with.>”

Alma licked her lips before she answered. “<Sky people have a lot more sweat glands than Na’vi and sweat more. They also rely on their vision more than any other of their senses. The brows developed hair to protect the eyes. The slope that curls around the socket,” her head was released as she traced her left eyebrow with her finger, “<Is to usher sweat or rainwater away from our eyes.>”

Koko’s head tilted, their hand coming in slowly before they touched the thin line of hair. “<Oh.>” They seemed a little curious. “<Do they have other uses?>”

“<We’ve also used eyebrows as part of our body language and emotions. Much like facial expressions but the eyebrows stand out far more and emphasise certain parts of situations.>” She explained.

Koko pulled their hand back, returning back to the braid they were working on.

“<Well, you should at least greet them before you leave tonight at the very least. Share a drink and dinner. As you’re an outsider, your presence may ease their unexpected visit to our camp.>” Neyre suggested, finishing up one braid and starting another. “<I hope you don’t mind that Tsu’miro offered your gifts to them?>”

“<They were gifts, what someone does with them once it’s in their hands is their decision>,” Alma said, because she wasn’t offended by the notion of regifting since it wasn’t going back to her and she knew they’d be used than left on a shelf of supplies.

Finally, after an hour and listening as the sounds of communal chatter continued, Alma’s braids were done. She washed out the extra oil from her hair, gently rubbing in the lotions to lift the oils and with some help, rubbed some other products in which made them feel softer and smelt delightful. A few beads were added in the end of a few of them and Koko excitedly added a feathered charm.

“<Wonderful>” They declared.

Alma gladly got to her feet, relieving a few more cramps again and stumbled out and… it looked busy.

Welcome Haven was a small island along a shallow shore of islands and a few were naturally connected. The camp wasn’t bursting with people either like Alma expected but it seemed like most of the Windtaders had settled more inland and closer to the shattered Mountain and its floating rocks. They were content to be there too but the… sight of their magnificent living airships was just…stunning. She had no idea how beautiful it was… how they had forged a connection with these creatures. It made sense why the Zeswa respected the traders; the relationship with their creatures was reminiscent of them with the Zakru.

Her eyes ran over the bindings, the ship's body bellow but also the...creatures attached to the ship’s body. She couldn’t see close details but she felt an awe. Were Na’vi riding the Windrays?

“<The fire is this way>” Neyre guided her along, turning her away and around the tent to the group that sat around the fire, tea long drunk and it appeared the groups were discussing their plans as she joined but her eyes lingered across the newcomers.

Three Windtraders were there, forest people with thicker more concealing orange clothing which showed less skin but still majestic. Their style was… certainly consistent with the one she had seen of that trader from the Aranahe Hometree, Kukulope.

But her attention turned swiftly to the others that lingered in a far bigger group just away from the fire and only one of them was seated by the fire. Many of the faces were of teenagers or of their early twenties. Some looked to be of the forest but there were some that had builds you would see from the reef but… not quite. Instead of a pale cyan, their skin had a near greenish quality, their bluer strips were less watery nor so symmetrical to forest Na’vi. A mix of blue, green and even yellow eyes. They had strakes on her arms and legs, a little smaller in comparison to those of the reef, wavy hair and thicker builds.. and tall. Very tall.

All the Meitayo people had tattoos, most prominent was the tattoos on their face; the lower lip was tattooed a navy blue entirely without pattern and form the lip down their chin, a delicate tattoo continued, reminding her like tree roots that swirled. All were identical so Alma wondered if it was like the Sarentu; clan identifiers.

There was the lead man who sat with a drink, his face had a tattoo along his left side, but he had far more across his arms, chest and even starting on his legs. His hair was curly and contained in simple braids tied back and with shells of sort and wrap cuffs decorating them. Their clothes looked coarser than that of the Zeswa but they had more jewellery attached to them. Multiple arm bands, anklets, headbands and multiple piercings in their ears.

“<Tsu’miro, two, please.>” Koko was handed two drinks, to which they handed one straight off to Alma and they sat on the outer ring.  Alma felt a little awkward, feeling unbelonging in the late afternoon sun with the clear leaders of the camp and newcomers and she could feel their eyes on her. Honestly, she did want to return back to her cave for a quiet evening before she left. Leyapay was probably still trying to get laid or something, which reminded her…

“<Where is Leyapay?>” Her question echoed to Tsu’miro softly, her eyes scanning past the newcomer's heads to the open fields.

“<Ah, she is safe. Kaypì brought her to rest along with the other mares since they found a patch of fermented fruits and got a little drunk on them.>”

“<Of course she did.>” Alma responded dryly. “<I hope she is sober by the time we leave.>”

Tsu’miro laughed softly. “<Do not fear, Ulma, she will be on her hooves and walking straight before dusk. We have many recipes that still sober them quickly.>”

Honestly, she could picture her drunk Direhorse quite vividly; stumbling over her legs, swaying and probably drooling with her tongue constantly out. It was kinda funny but it would hurt to delay her plans with her Direhorse compromised like that.

“<Thank you.>” Alma nodded, taking a sip but surprisingly this was soup than the tea she was expecting. It was smooth and creamy and there was a very…subtle taste of Dodo mushrooms. She eyed the content for a moment, before just sipping again.

Conversation drew up again between Peylak and Tsu’miro. Koko suddenly jumped up and ran off like they remembered something. Alma however watched them go with an amused shake of her head and continued with her cup of soup.

She was… aware that she had eyes on her still, particularly the Meitayo male, Mäzan if she wasn’t mistaken by earlier but she didn’t engage or look much his way. However, as Mäzan rose to his feet in her peripheral, Koko returned and startled Alma by placing something cold and heavy straight into her lap without warning.

The remains of her soup dropped into the grass and she found herself holding… a rough-shaped, thin black stone. About just bigger than the size of her hands and two inches thick. One side was rough and coarse but… the side facing her was smoothened and polished. Her own face blinked back at her in its smoothened side.

It was odd seeing her own face… at least not so directly either. She had been without a mirror for so long…

“<You told me that you struggled as you could not see well in water reflection when tending to yourself.>” Koko said, a little oblivious to the effects of their action as she took in a shaky breath to properly compose herself. “<This black crystal is our next best.>”

“<You… made me a mirror?>” Alma smiled softly, tilting it and watching how the light reflected off though it gave her a view of her new hair decorations. “<Thank you.>”

Koko patted her arm, “<Given how your hair was, I think it was a necessary gift. I only just finished it this morning and was going to give it to you next week. You can now tend to it more easily and apply that body paint to more accurate desire than before, even on your own.>”

Her hand came to her braids. “<I appreciate the thought.>”

“<Let the leaders discuss their plans. I thought this would be more exciting gossip but clearly not.>” Koko’s voice was more hushed. “<Let’s check on the Direhorses.>”

Alma nodded and with her new mirror, she set her cup onto the grass more neatly and followed. She paused to set her mirror away into her basket and Koko led the way down to the river side where there were at least seven mares just… strewn about with a few guarding them from harm. Some swaying and still standing, and others looked like they were just lying there shot. Leyapay was one of the few standing, tongue out, drooling onto her buddy beside her and her head resting on the cliff wall like it was her grounding stick. Her tail swished rapidly, trying to stay balanced.

“<Aw, it’s been a while since we’ve had this many> Koko looked genuinely amused in their coo “<oh, they’re so oblivious of their actions…>”

Alma moved past and reached for her Direhorse side, brushing her warm skin and stroking up until she reached her neck. “<Were you eating fruit that smelt weird?>” She teased, “<Maybe next time, fresh will do you better.>”

“<Here.”> Koko scooped up a draw of water from a nearby bowl. “<See if she’ll drink first. Rehydration is best before Kaypì brings the less pleasant… tea for them to drink. You’ll have to bond with her to get her to take it.>”

“<Understood>”

Masterlist

[hwajin]

#! — 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐞 | hhj

genre: smut, fluff

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings/ content: only dry humping and lots of build up <3

req, req

Breathing in. Breathing out. Chest heaving in soft motion, cautious — every movement, no mind how little, would disturb Hyunjin. He wouldn't tell you, yet you were aware. So, you tried to restrict even breathing, if it meant for him.

Scratching of harsh pen against champagne paper comforted you, rhythmic sound lulling into a state of utter content, soft mattress and silky sheets delicate to touch. Hyunjin's eyes were the one thing seeming to disturb the near fragile aroma — darting through the silence as though wanting to speak themselves, harsh and concentrated on your body, sending you into a spiral of emotions against the comfort you're chasing. It wasn't his fault, simply the effect he had on you.

"Let me draw you."

The words had sounded into the room suddenly, and you had laughed in response — Hyunjin's notebook was filled to the brim with sketches of you — your face, a lip only or a hand, body dressed and undressed — and while it had put you off initially, had insecured you in a way only precious things, precious subjects could you had grown fond of it. Had discovered Hyunjin's adoration hidden behind and within his sketches. By now he surely didn't need permission, nor did he let you know about most of his works while they're in the making at all — only showing you after, catching you in a moment so unknowingly, and your words of praise let Hyunjin's blood shoot across ears and cheeks, every time anew.

"Go ahead, you don't need to ask me baby."

Mindlessly answered while nose deep into assignments, eyeing him when you'd heard shuffling from the bed beside. Questioning Hyunjin's look, as though uncertain fright, shyness laced behind it.

"No, I mean... like actually draw you. Paint, if you want to. With you... posing."

It had been new, his nervous voice nothing but justified. You had agreed happily, had chosen a setting, a pose — had chosen you would be laying in the nude.

"Clothes are harder to draw."

Seemingly agreeable reason, you doubted it had been Hyunjin's only.

He had prepared his tools, glasses of tap water, multiple brushes in various thicknesses, structures. Oil colours, an opened window, plastic gloves. A canvas big enough to rule out the process would be a short one — and then you laid, naked to the bone, Hyunjin's eyes on you and pencil in hand. And though nudeness was never a problem with him, came as natural as anything else because it was him, your blood had starting pumping quicker, your pulse resonating in every fibre of your body. It had been the intensive stare, the situation in it's whole — purely innocent yet corrupted, in a hint of seduction, of a mind of utter sexuality.

And he thought you were breathtaking. Intentive stare merely because unsure where else to stare, and frankly it would have been both contradictary and wholly embarrassing if he converted eyes — he'd been the one to propose the idea after all, shying away was the very last the man was supposed to do, surely. So he kept his gaze upon you entirely, with a force he'd never planned yet couldn't help, for is he laid eyes on you any different it would break him, in half and fully.

Ordering you to change position slightly, moving pencil and brush over already clattered canvas and one might think Hyunjin'd grow used to your bare figure. Yet, his movements stayed stiff, nearly scared — urging to capture beauty of yours accurately, frightened for you not to enjoy the outcome. His eyes traced you whole — dancing across the curve of your shoulders and following the lines of collarbones, only slightly perky in given position. Breathing out in attempt to calm nerves when downing gaze gen breasts, trying to save face when eyes arched around their perkiness, their mounds and seeming spilling out the body. Mouth falling ajar when look met dip of waist and hip, noticing your skin covered in cold shivers, surpressing knowing grin, because he wasn't any better.

"You're... beautiful."

Wished to express different words, bigger words — hypnotic, alluring, mesmerizing — and yet the simplest of them all seemed to be most saying, most meaningful. Didn't promise the dusguise words too pretty did, provided the very plain, the mostest, the deepest of Hyunjin's thoughts when it came to you — promised your undeniable beauty.

A quick smile followed his words and his eyes were back on the canvas, leaving yours to lose themselves in the flusterness his comment provided. It wasn't a comment unknown to you, and yet, in the fragility of your surrounding, in the vulnerabilty of the moment it seemed to mean something different. Something different than it normally did, something deeper, perhaps.

And you weren't able to take it any longer. His words ringing an echo in your head, your eyes following his furrowed brows towards his staring eyes, down to his darting tongue and further to the lines of his arms, strong beneath the plan black shirt. His leg propped up on the lower bar of his stool, body hunched forward to fish for tools and correct mistakes.

And his name left your lips. In a matter soft that it frightened you he couldn't hear, yet his eyes found yours not moments later. Gazes meeting in longing, in desire. Yours pleading. For more, for closeness.

"Come here baby."

A whisper only and you complied. Arose from your place, made your way towards Hyunjin, him sliding the confining latex off his hands. A tad self-conscious of your state — utterly aware of your and his state, him within his clothes' comfort, you without — until you stood inches away, between the subtle spread of his legs.

"Careful, don't touch all that. It's kinda toxic to the skin."

Motioning towards the colors, and you nodded without taking eyes off him. Heart warming strangely at Hyunjin's hand on your hip to pull you away from said toxins — warming, because he cared, strangely, because it was a given, after all. Yet the hand on your hip burned itself into your conscious. The man looked up at you with eyes so big and dark it reminded you of a deer, irises so round behind their glasern doors that you bowed down to peck at his lips. Shortly and gone before he could look, perplexity reflecting in his feautures. A hand on your hip anew, pulling you towards him this time around — towards his body, his warmth. Again you compiled, no reason not to. A subtle tap of his against his thigh and you understood, shifted to settle on his lap — slightly uncomfortable given the lack of support the stool gifted, yet you felt at home, right there, your own legs caging in his. Naked skin against clothed one, though now it didn't seem to bother you.

It wasn't enough to reach you yet Hyunjin stretched his neck upwards, failed attempt to connect lips, though you didn't leave him hot and bothered for long; lowered head only slightly to catch him in a kiss awaited, a kiss mimicing redemption. A kiss that didn't want to end, that continued on until lips were a bitten red and swollen, until breath came scattered. Until hips began moving against hips, rather mindlessly and only taking notice of it when a first gasp left Hyunjin's lips. A first gasp that you inhaled within you, that you ate up with everything you had — and you wanted to hear it again. Lowering head further to nib at his neck, fingers toying at his body, caressing parts you knew better than anyone else, you took pride in knowing better than anyone else. And he left you satisfied — sounds of contentment spilling past his parted mouth, growing in volume with every passing minute. Smiling against his skin and you were sure he took notice of it — he always did.

"Baby.."

Voice breathless, big hand on your chin, leaving you no choice other than the one to look at him, to raise your head from within his glistening neck and find yourself face to face with him. Eyes holding a million words that were left unspoken, would have turned meaningless if made audible into the quiet of the room.

"Please."

Though day started so very innocently, though morning was left with admiring body and painting nudeness, left breathless not because of sexuality but intimacy, vulnerability, rather, you now were unable to keep hands off each other. Groping anywhere possible, mostly to hold yourself against Hyunjin's lap, partly to merely hold him close - you always wanted to hold him close. Hips were sheerly rolling against hips, rhythm so slow it was nearly unbearable and yet everything you'd want. Back and forth, meeting in the middle, at the very core, as though subtle waves of oceans forced you together - back and forth, back and forth, back forth. Again and again.

Your legs grew sore when Hyunjin's head fell back, neck so violently giving in it scared you initially, biting lips moments later when the sight presented itself before you - his bruise bitten skin, red and purple litters across the delicate of his neck, similar to the colors on the canvas behind you. Hyunjin's eyes shut close in satisfaction, in anticipation - he was incredibly close, judging on his steady grip and longing whines; and you were ready to give in. Paying no mind to aching thighs and sweaty skin, senses focusing merely on him before you - the way he locked eyes with you again, hair dischevelled, pupils doubled in size, mouth agape to say something or simply due to the inability to close it. And you moved faster, only a little bit, only enough for his eyes to squeeze close anew and bent towards you, to connect ajar lips with your own, sloppy, wet, utterly careless. And then his hips stuttered, lost their rhythm in ways desperate, drawn out groan slipping past bruised lips, into your own, swallowing up his every sound. Spreading wetness beneath you as you followed suit not moments later, disconnected kiss to rest head in neck, to breathe breathlessly against reddened skin, against sensitive ear. And you sat like that for a while, hand in hand and body against body, canvas daring to dry out yet giving the portrait another shot, another day was nothing you'd deny.

@etherealeeknow @linoskitty @unexceptional-h @rseanne @es-kay-zee @urcracksisx @jeyelleohe @yunkiwii @etheralsung @nyrasneedy @seochhj @spidercomics @chans-starlight @angelwonie @lix-ables @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @sstarryreads @svintsandghosts @bokjaz @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus

[disgruntled-lifeform]

Whenever I make something, I like to go through the mental gymnastics of deciding what the sale price would be for the finished product, regardless of if I intend on selling it or not.

This has historically been a simple process of material costs, fixed costs, and labour.

This has become decidedly more complex as I acquire more skills that add extra steps to the calculation process.

For instance:

I wanted to make this coat so I buy some fibre for spinning.

But they don't sell a roving I like so I decide to buy multiple solids and blend them into my own roving using some hand carders.

This step is taking ages.

There is no way I could account for the labour of manually blending into the cost of the yarn, so I guess I would just take the raw fibre cost as my material cost?

But that feels wrong given the effort so I'm stuck at how to get passed blending.

Next comes spinning, do I add the time it takes to actively spin/ply/finish the yarn or is it wiser to just take a percentage of the fibre cost and tack it onto the material costs?

That seems wisest so maybe that is how I account for the blending process too?

From that point on, it's just mat cost and time plus the skilled labour and fixed costs for tool maintainance.

By the end of it all, I have a coat that is stupidly priced for the average buyer or an item that is reasonably priced for the buyer but is undervaluing my labour.

I don't really have a point to this post >.<

I just hoped that maybe someone could point out something glaringly wrong with my logic that makes this all suddenly math out in a satisfying manner.

[silvernskye]

my god this post is massive

note: the conferences are going to be mostly uk ones based bc that where i am

feel free to ask questions, i want to talk to people about this!

Conference the first - The Oxford Real Farming Conference

[youtube]

a yearly uk conference of farmers that are farming in alternative ways (mostly organic & regen) since 2010

not to be mistaken with the Oxford Faming conference which is the usual industrial farming conference (but there seem to be increasing regen ag talk over the years)

both happen around the same time in january and have their archive on youtube for free

the orfc was created bc farmers were frustrated that they couldnt find a place to discuss more progressive ag ideas

not all sessions get recorded as video, some are audio only (you can find them on the website), only a couple dont get recorded at all

sessions ive watched

ive barely started watching/listening to the sessions this year but here are some that i have watched & i found interesting:

Doing Dairy Differently

a talk about doing dairy better like keeping the calf with the mothers, rotational grazing, ect & the benefits and challenges trying to do that

Farmers — Saving More Lives Than Pharma

a talk by Dr Jenny Goodman, a doctor who uses organic food (and other stuff) as a tool to cure various illness (bc almost everyone is deficient in micro nutrients and micro-dosing on pesticides really doesnt help)

she has some good books with very actionable advice for the individual and with a lot of peer reviewed citations

the books are 'Staying Alive in Toxic Times: A Seasonal Guide to Lifelong Health' (ive read this one, got it from the library) and 'Getting Healthy In Toxic Times'

Homegrown Fashion: The British Fibres Regenerating Landscaoes and Creativity

panel that covers the state of the native british fibres and their industry of wool, linen, hemp and leather:

Fantasy Fibre Mill - developing open source linen and hemp processing machinery for the mid-scale/farm-level (uk has lost all processing infrastructure)

British Pasture Leather - a company developing the supply chain for leather from pasture for life (uk grassfed label)

Fernhill Farm & Fernhill Fibre - mixed livestock farm that is part of the south west england fibreshed, processes and sells their own wool and clothing, holds traditional blade sheep shearing competitions, records and monitors their carbon & biodiversity and and is verified as regenerative

Contempory Hempery - grows hemp for fine fibre fabric and aims to process the hemp into fibre and fabric

Growing the Rainbow: LGBTQ+ Perspectives in Landwork

Indie Food Retail: Challenges, Learnings and Success Stories

sessions i havent yet watched

here are some havent watched/listened to yet and you might want to too (very roughly categorised):

socialish stuff

Roots of Resistance: Farming in Palestine

Smash Imperialism! For a New Trade Framework Based on Solidarity!

Rooting for Diversity: Cultivating Farms for Neurodiversity To Thrive

WORKSHOP: Cultivating Long-Term Solidarity with Farmers in Palestine

WORKSHOP: Reparations — Learning From Examples Existing Within Modernity

farming stuff

Making Public Farmland Work for the Public Interest

Creating New Crofts: A Pathway Towards Land Justice?

Is a Fossil Free Food System Possible?

WORKSHOP: Farms and Kitchens — Forging Connections Between Food Citizenship Hubs

WORKSHOP: Beyond the Tech Divide: Rethinking Innovation for Agroecology

What Might Insect Sentience Mean for Agroecology?

Better Meat, More Plants: Opportunities for Farmers?

FARM DEEP DIVE: Our Journey into Nature Friendly Livestock Farming

animals & meat

WORKSHOP: Deer Are Food for the Future (deer is a big problem in the uk bc of lack of natural predators)

Pigs, Environmental Engineers or Architects of Destruction?

Sustainable Meat: Minimise Transport, Slaughter Humanely, Stay Profitable (about small abattoirs, very important for animal welfare and sustainable meat production (both in the profitable and the ecology sense); we are are losing them so fast, tw: discussions of animal death & butchery)

Rise of the Planet of the Chicken

Ensuring a Just Transition from Intensive Livestock

grains

WORKSHOP: Next Steps in Building a New Cereal Seed System

Increasing Home-Grown Protein in an Organic Farming System (about growing native non-soya feed for animals)

other produce

WORKSHOP: Learning to Connect with the Ocean

WORKSHOP: Adding Flowers to Your Farm: Increasing Profits and Pollinators

Can Farmed Salmon Ever Be Sustainable

[possessivesuffix]

My latest in trawling thru semi-random comparative etymological dictionaries: Hudson (1989) on Highland East Cushitic. He gets together 767 reconstructions, a decent amount on a group of relatively little-studied languages. A nice chunk of vocabulary can be reconstructed especially for the major crop of the area, the enset tree (*weesa), its parts (e.g. *hoga 'leaf', *kʼaantʼe 'fibre', *kʼalima 'seed pod', *mareero 'pith', *waasa 'enset food') and tools for processing it (*meeta 'scraping board', *sissa 'bamboo scraper).

There surely has to be material among the reconstructions though that represent newer spread, most clearly the names of a few post-Columbian-exchange foodstuffs: *bakʼollo 'maize', *kʼaaria 'green chili' — same terms also e.g. in Amharic: bäqollo, qariya (Hudson kindly provides Amharic and Oromo equivalents copiously). (Note btw a vowel nativization rule appearing in these: Amharic a → HEC aa, but ä /ɐ/ → HEC a [a~ɐ~ə], as if undoing the common Ethiosemitic shift *aa *a > a ä.) Slightly suspicious are also a few names of trade items and cultural vocabulary / Wanderwörter like *gaanjibelo 'ginger', *loome 'lemon' (at least the latter could be again plausibly fairly recent loans from Amharic lome) but these could well have reached southern Ethiopia even already in antiquity.

In terms of root structure, interesting are two monoconsonantal roots: *r- 'thing, thingy, thingamajig' (segmentable from a diminutive *r-iččo and from Sidamo ra) and *y- 'to say'. Otherwise verb roots are the usual Cushitic *CV(C)C-, clusters limited to geminates and sonorant + obstruent; with several derivative extensions such as *-is- reflexive, *-aɗ- causative. *ɗ actually occurs almost solely in the last, I would suspect it's from one of the well-attested dental stops *t / *d / *tʼ with post-tonic lenition. Long vowels also seem to occur fairly freely in the root syllable with even several "superheavy" roots like *aanš- 'to wash', *feenkʼ- 'to shell legumes', *iibb- 'to be hot', *maass-aɗ- 'to bless', *uuntʼ- 'to beg'; *boowwa 'valley', *čʼeemma 'laziness', *doobbe 'nettle', *leemma 'bamboo', *mooyyee 'mortar'… A ban on CCC consonant clusters does seem to hold however, apparently demonstrated by *moočča ~ *mooyča 'prey animal', which probably comes from an earlier *moo- + the deminutive suffix *-iččV; resulting **mooyčča would have to be shortened in some way, either by degemination or by dropping *-y-.

In V2 and later positions there seems to be morphological conditioning of vowel length, cf. e.g. *arraab- 'to lick' : *arrab-o 'tongue'; *indidd- 'to shed tears' : *indiidd-o 'tear' (and not **arraabo, **indiddo). And as in these examples, also many basic nouns appear to be simple "thematizations" of verbs, similarly e.g. *buur- 'to anoint, smear', *buur-o 'butter'; *fool- 'to breathe', *fool-e 'breath'; *kʼiid- 'to cool', *kʼiid-a 'cold (of weather)'; *reh- 'to die', *reh-o 'death'. I don't actually see a ton of logic to what the "nominalizing vowel" ends up being though and maybe it's sometimes an original part of the stem, not a suffix. Quite a lot of unanalyzable nouns on the other hand are actually fairly long, e.g. *finitʼara 'splinter', *hurbaata 'dinner', *kʼorranda 'crow', *kʼurtʼumʔe 'fish', *tʼulunka '(finger)nail'.

Further phonologically interesting features include apparently a triple contrast between *Rˀ (glottalized resonants) and both *Rʔ and *ʔR clusters [edit: no, it's just very inconsistent transcription]; also ejective *pʼ is established even though plain *p is not (that has presumably become *f).

Lastly here's a some etyma I've found casually amusing:

*bob- 'to smell bad': take note, any Roberts planning on travelling to southern Ethiopia

*buna 'coffee': yes yes, this is the part of the world where you cannot assume 'coffee' will look anything like kafe

*mana 'man': second-best probably-coincidence in the data

*raar- 'to shout, scream' 🦖 [and looks like maybe a variant of *aar- 'to be angry?]

*sano 'nose': "clearly must be" cognate with PIE *nas- with metathesis :^>

*ufuuf- 'to blow on fire', oh yeah I've needed that verb sometimes

*waʔa 'water': Cushitic With British Characteristics

[pandorafallz]

Vampire AU | First Trades

Timely wasn’t fond of under the radar detours but he knew the importance of a deal for the Westguard. What it meant for him and his companions and in all honesty, he was looking forwards to raw dogging his girl without fear of knocking her up. She didn’t want kids on Pandora and he was fine with that but that meant they had to be cautious. So he needed this deal to work.

Westguard had nominated him to run the scorpion out to the dead-drop for their first trades since the quads reached out with a deal. Two weeks earlier than anticipated so it meant the quads were settled sooner than later to get the ball rolling. If it went well, Timely knew that they’d roster him into exchanges to be the Westguard face for the Quads.

A small sacrifice.

He tilted his head as he followed the handwritten note stuck to his dash before he noticed the upturned rock formation that was a little out into the edge of a small clearing so he touched down with a heavy sigh and pulled on his mask. His buddy, Bruce nodded and followed him out and picked up the crate. His hand remained on his weapon, heading out wards the formation and unto the gap where he noticed the tall figure waiting with a basket by her feet and looked to be spinning some fibres but he didn’t pay too much attention on her hobby.

“I ain’t even gonna hazard a guess which one you are but here’s ya good.” He called, to the avatar.

The avatar smirked a little. “Upside of being four in one, right? Just call me Everdeen.”

Timely nervously chuckled, his head craning up. “I forgot how big ya were.”

The avatar chuckled. “Who are you two?”

“I’m Hector Timely, Bruce Crinkle.” Timely introduced. “You got the goods?”

Everdeen bent down, pocking her spindle and opened up the basket and pulled out two leaf wraps that looked to be quite bulky.

“Contraceptives and Lefty Viagra.”

Bruce sniggered at the latter but set down the box beside the basket.

“This is a lot.” More than expectation

“I know there’s a lot of horny humans. This stuff is a good quality, far better strain than the shit you got before from your scientists so you need a little less to go further. Here.” She handed over a piece of paper, “We tested how much of the herb per cup in advance. Too much and you’ll get constipated.”

Timely accepted the leaf wraps with a nod, tucking the paper into the contraceptives. “Thank you.”

“Here’s the Na’vi stuff you wanted. A few favours had to be pulled to get these since Augustine had them in Site 26. Four knives with cases, four without and that beaded cord.” Bruce said, opening up the box.

Everdeen reached out and pulled out the first knife, turning it over in her hands before she gave a satisfying nod and emptied it into the basket. Once the box was free, Timely set their goods into it.

“So, got anything on the list for next time?”

“The contraceptives should be a staple flow, so more of that. Some Hexapede meat, some shelter Fruit wouldn’t go amiss and crimson mushrooms.” Bruce listed.

“Right now, we want distilling tools.”

“Ouch.”

Everdeen nodded solemnly. “It’s a big ask, but we wanna make booze. Once we can make moonshine or something equivalent with Pandoran mash, which can be added onto our trade list. Your folks can’t even be allowed to create contraband like booze. It’ll be far easier to bring it in.”

“Big investment for a profitable turnout,” Bruce remarked, turning a gaze to him. “What’d you think, Timely?”

Timely sucked his teeth. “It’ll take time to get everything.”

“We kept science tools purposely. We can message you later on what we can make or repurpose and what we’ll need from you. We need the major stuff to at least start the process and add to it if it’s too much in one drop off.” Everdeen clarified. “I didn’t expect this to be easy. If need be, one tool at a time with other supplies. Tarps, a few solar panels and some hand tools for welding.”

Timely nodded carefully. “I’ll have to talk to the guys to get a game plan if they’re willing to invest.”

“Alright, keep us posted.” Everdeen picked up her basket with a nod and a salute.

“Likewise.”

-

Thea sighed happily as she returned to Refuge like a victor back from a hunt before she hopped happily into the airlock and grabbed herself a Co2 mask and slung that around her neck before the door opened.

It seemed she was anticipated as she saw the Sarentu group together in a circle doing some small crafts, even Nor who looked to be begrudgingly here and Ri’nela mostly was using his leg as a support to keep him there.

Priya waiting as well as her three other half’s, two of them invested in a game of Cat’s Cradle.

“Ah, you’re back!” Grace noticed her first, her eyes lighting before hastily pulling her hand from the string and ruining her and Lilith’s string design and scrambled to her feet to meet her, her eyes lingering on the basket. “[All go well?]” she asked in French.

“[Yes, very well.]” Thea said, “[I’m surprised they’re all here. I thought they’d be at Hometree]”

“[Priya told them to come and wait for your return for gifts.  We can tell them now of our trades and give them what they’ll need]” Amanda said

“[I’ve tried to get us distilling stuff but we’ll need to rain check that with what we can repurpose here to make it easier]” Thea explained, “[They’re gonna run a check with their guys on it as a possibility. No guarantees.]”

“[That’s expected. We can do that later. ] Come, let’s give them. They’ve waited long enough.” Amanda nodded them both in so Thea nodded and sat down with the Sarentu’s attention.

“What’s going on?” Kìoetey asked, quietly spinning some fibres but her eyes lingered on the basket curiously as she placed it down.

Thea took a breath from her mask loudly and crouched down beside her sisters. “Since we left the RDA, we’ve opened up a… trade agreement with a contraband group within the RDA. They don’t know we’re with you and we’re not changing that either but… using this group we were able to gather items of importance of your clan that the RDA. Sarentu artefacts that Mercer had kept at the base which was taken back to Hell’s Gate for study. The group was able to steal them and traded items for their efforts, like medicinal herbs for these.”

The narrowing of eyes wasn’t unmissed but Kìoetey lent forwards, allowing them to continue without argument.. “What was returned?”

Thea opened the basket and pulled out the collection of knives and set them down in front of the Sarentu group.

Ri’nela reached immediately for the one that was teal without a case and examined it in intense scrutiny. Nor picked up a beige, triangular blade and sat back but his entire demeanour lifted. Kìoetey took a pinkish-purple blade with a case with consideration and wonder.

Telisi and Yefti were less enthusiastic but both picked one each, giving them a once over before swapping their claim with each other.

Yuayt, Okni and Teylan were the only three to not pick them up but they looked at the blades curiously. Not a surprise to Thea really.

“I’m keeping this one,” Ri’nela said, “It looks very much like my mother’s…”

Kìoetey tilted her head. “What else does the RDA have?”

“General items; clothing, bows, an Ikran headset, arm guard. From what I know, Dr Grace Augustine took them to Site 26 which is in the floating mountains in the Omatikaya clan’s reign in the East. On paper she claims for further study but I suspect to secure them to avoid Selfridge selling them off on Earth.” Amanda said. Lilith hummed in agreement but made no comment.

“So… they’re just out in the open?” Ri’nela asked. “Really easy for Na’vi to steal.”

“Yes. That’s possibly her plan. She was put there to speak to the Omatikaya Tsahìk or any of the clan willing to meet her. I can’t know for sure but it made us getting them back harder given the distance the mountains are to Hell’s Gate.” Grace spoke.

Kìoetey’s head tilted but nodded softly. “Thank you. This means a lot. Items of our people… should be with us.”

 Thea nodded. “There is one more item I have that may be of interest.” From the basket, she pulled out the cord and set it into her palm and tilted it out to the eight teenagers.

Kìoetey gasped sharply, recognising it easily before she pulled it from her hands without a moments of hesitation. “That’s my mother’s song cord.”

Oh.

Thea spared a glance to her sisters and then back but Kìoetey’s eyes welled with tears, holding the cord to her chest with reverence, her thumb stroking over the collection of beads

Ri’nela moved and touched Kìoetey’s knee. “It’s safe.”

“Mercer stole it.” Okni spoke quietly, fidgeting a little. “After he killed Aha’ri.”

Kìoetey swallowed thickly. “Excuse me a moment.” She didn’t wait and no one stopped her as she jumped to her feet and scurried out to the airlock.

“Thank you.” Ri’nela nodded, also standing up.

The Quads nodded softly before Thea patted Amanda and Lilith to get them to move and let the group bond over their artefacts more privately.

Thea ducked into the mechanical bay with another sip of Co2 before she noticed Alex examining the headpiece. Things looked more put together and Thea enjoyed helping the group patch up the gaps in their project to get their pod working for their fellow avatar driver. The crown had been a work in progress for weeks to aid the link connection without the torus surprising the head section of the pod.

“How’s it looking?”

Alex’s head turned but he brightened up. “I think it’s done.” He swivelled in his seat to how her with clear pride. “Jax helped get a few things sorted but all the testing indicates it should work as intended; allowing Alma’s body to remain in cryo but her mind remains active to hold a link.”

“How active? What about sleep patterns?” Thea asked since it seemed very prudent to include that Alma couldn’t stay linked up 24/7 without either her mind suffering or her avatar exhausting with overuse.

“Already sorted,” Alex set the crown and picked up a small device; it looked like a strip of grey plastic, bendable and flexible but there was a sharp point underneath a little port. “This is the avatar’s side; with this Alma will be able to sleep within her avatar’s brain without breaking the link. Jax and Priya coded it and I’m still amazed.”

“Where does it go?”

Alex paused a little. “At the base of the kuru. The point needs to penetrate the skin to access the nerves directly for the set-up. Alma shouldn’t feel any pain or discomfort once it’s settled.”

“Since the crown’s done and the pod, does it mean we’ll be waking Alma up?”

“Yes, soon. But I want to get the pod tested first and since you and your sisters are an avatar driver, would you be willing to test it before we put Alma in it?”

Thea’s eyes narrowed. “You want us to… test it?”

Alex’s face softened a little. “Look, once we put Alma in the link-pod, there’s no taking her out afterwards if someone goes wrong. She won’t survive that.”

Thea’s tail swished discontent but he had a point there.  It was a one-way with the woman’s injuries but still, Thea didn’t like the idea of being a test case with technology of scrap. “I talk to them but make no promises”

Alex nodded. “We’ll get the avatar decanted in a few days to prep the implant before we start the tests with the pod. Its biosystems will be a little out of whack since it went back onto an umbilical system so that’ll need time to settle as well. If all goes well, Alma will be awake by the end of the week.”

-

“We’ve got the all clear. Hale’s left for the movie.” Gate spoke quietly to his group, their belongings being carefully balanced as they loaded up their folks onto the patrol car.

Personal belongings were shoved into bags, but they were without major equipment but they had end-point and Marvin had only been able to drop a large tent for them with a small air exchange for them and food rations. It would last a few days with the six of them but once they were in a proper and secure location, all they had to do was wait for the second group to find them with all the goods. They’d of course forage with the tablet to identify the good shit but they still had to leave first.

“I’m surprised Selfridge allowed it.”

“He didn’t but Hale convinced Quaritch if they could use the gym and invited any interested SecOps to the fun as well. He agreed and they didn’t tell Selfridge that little bit so that’s fun.” Jacobs answered.

Conner groaned a little as Phil Moore-Graves and Felicity Madrigal pushed his wheelchair across the uneven pathway.

“Sorry, kid.” Moore-Graves winced at the sound.

Gates helped the doctor lift Conner up onto his foot, guided him into the patrol’s spare seat and strapped the kid in. Jasmin hunter let the kid slouch into her shoulder and wrapped an arm around him to support him. The wheelchair was folded up and Felicity hopped in and secured it with his bags and added the elasticated netting along the side to hold them from flying out when they get going.

“I thought he was on meds?” Jasmin asked.

“We gave him pills before we snuck him out. They should be kicking in—“

Conner fully slumped.

“There we go.”

Jasmin tightened her arm around him.

Jacobs moved to the driver’s seat and Gates hastily pushed the step-up and secured it into as a ‘door’ after himself once the others were in and secure.

“Remember, this is a bumpy ride and we’re an open top here with zero protection. Hold onto each other and your stuff but keep an eye out for predators. Be ready to throw a tear canister at a moment’s notice and Gates, keep your gun out.”

Right, as if he was fully trained. Gates hated the weapon but he was no fool to not leave without something for his people here. They gotta survive this.

“What about our tracks in this thing?”

“Weather report is that Rain will hit tomorrow morning and should wash away any traces” Jacobs said, the engine revving into life before he hit the gas.

Masterlist

[beebuus]

On a sunny day, the number of leaves that fall is distinct from how much I miss the lake. They decomposed in a blink, as if done by someone to displease me. I felt the stench of death follow the path of the culprit, a smell of dead karaupita, of dead xiémié with worm tukulia bursting from their eyes. Wish it wasn’t so, they lived a life of wonder, of cycle and story, but it was finalized by an intruder.

She would take a second, the nails digging deeper on the flesh, shedding some haemolymph as the cold cubi-spheric aluminium separated her fibres. The roach barely flinched, what would be agonizing pain is just simple procedure for them, a process of sorts. Tuila would then grasp her hammer, which looked smaller than an exemplar of such tool. Something akin to a talisman, made of bronze with deep engravings of song.

I took off, through the path of rot and dehydration, deeper into the gallows of the beast. And there was beast, of feather and beak of bone and tall and eye of fire. He saw the deed, the actor of uncycling. He regurgitates, a key of wood and gold betwixt the organic, inside the green bile. As suddenly as the act, the bird fell to his weight, the fire leaving their eyes.

She digs her pins deeper in the meat of hers, hitting nerve and bone and screech stored in her throat, the socket of desperation in the neck showing deeper and deeper. A singular dewdrop of blood comes from the lenses in the roach’s eyes, carrying the path of least resistance between her hexagonal, optical ommatidia.

I wish I could help you, little… well, big one. In a whisper I told you, in your ear covered by fluff. I grasp your gift and continue forward.

Tuila hears a voice. Of mock, of desperation, of fear misconstrued from her own. A thought in a head of metal, pressing, it wont let go; and in so it doesn’t, she grasps the hammer and throws, at tree, any tree, it won’t go, I want you to leave, go, away now, I won’t, she won’t, and in a second it…

…

Stops.

(you hear this?) I swear it was here.

I wake up, in a forest of dark and moon. In it I find my body, sworn, vowed to not move. I’m a martyr, nailed to the ground, I am mounted, pinned. Immobile. And he appears. But he doesn’t say, any of a thing. It smells of foetus and of burned herb. Thick smoke my body is engulfed in, their face is unfamiliar…

“Why, of all places, you chose to go here, little doll?” a voice of guttural strength, flamboyant yet aged by smoke and mucus, the grunting of an old sir.

“I – “before she is allowed speech, the smoke floods the spiracles, it deafens the feeling of pain yet causes more itself, coughing and saliva escape her throat, in the form of an exhalant, screamed sigh, and another, Then a third, in quick succession. She regains composure, attempting to claim the voice

“… a hand of rot destroyed the lake in my providence, of which I took care myself for three springs.” I establish, inherent is the demand of revenge.

“Orh, I see… before I let you continue, I need you to know the reason of such act. The polorogé is an ancient creature, and without interception of their limb, the beast would succumb the surrounding area into cave and lake.” He confirms on the likes of his identity, of the mask that is shattered. Rivets travel through my person they dislodge and contort my already disfigured self, and then.

Stops.

I remove the suffering, and the hammer in the tree grows. It expands enough to be caught by my hand, and the relief of pleasurable pain-ending, it invigorates the muscles and binds them with the oath of metal.

Flicks of light from metallic shin shatter through the cloud of grey air, the roach disappears from the face of the Fumeurist, the slab of bronze covering the rays of moonlight, converting their blue into orange hue. The arm of the Smoke reveals from the cloak, being putrid and bursting with fetid and growth of mould and moss, the hammer suffers slight corrosion, but it is. Too late.

His body bared an orb, it glowed like moon and reflection of moor, like flying fish takiuapa and midnight bloom soloharé and of daughter with the happiest eyes. I am proud.

She returns, in wooden shack and dust. The lake is once again, and so is her love.

---------------------------------------

probably gonna let this fester here, if it gets enough traction ill explain the background character(s)

[photon-insights]

The Role of Photon Insights in Helps In Academic Research

In recent times, the integration of Artificial Intelligence (AI) with academic study has been gaining significant momentum that offers transformative opportunities across different areas. One area in which AI has a significant impact is in the field of photonics, the science of producing as well as manipulating and sensing photos that can be used in medical, telecommunications, and materials sciences. It also reveals its ability to enhance the analysis of data, encourage collaboration, and propel the development of new technologies.

Understanding the Landscape of Photonics

Photonics covers a broad range of technologies, ranging from fibre optics and lasers to sensors and imaging systems. As research in this field gets more complicated and complex, the need for sophisticated analytical tools becomes essential. The traditional methods of data processing and interpretation could be slow and inefficient and often slow the pace of discovery. This is where AI is emerging as a game changer with robust solutions that improve research processes and reveal new knowledge.

Researchers can, for instance, use deep learning methods to enhance image processing in applications such as biomedical imaging. AI-driven algorithms can improve the image’s resolution, cut down on noise, and even automate feature extraction, which leads to more precise diagnosis. Through automation of this process, experts are able to concentrate on understanding results, instead of getting caught up with managing data.

Accelerating Material Discovery

Research in the field of photonics often involves investigation of new materials, like photonic crystals, or metamaterials that can drastically alter the propagation of light. Methods of discovery for materials are time-consuming and laborious and often require extensive experiments and testing. AI can speed up the process through the use of predictive models and simulations.

Facilitating Collaboration

In a time when interdisciplinary collaboration is vital, AI tools are bridging the gap between researchers from various disciplines. The research conducted in the field of photonics typically connects with fields like engineering, computer science, and biology. AI-powered platforms aid in this collaboration by providing central databases and sharing information, making it easier for researchers to gain access to relevant data and tools.

Cloud-based AI solutions are able to provide shared datasets, which allows researchers to collaborate with no limitations of geographic limitations. Collaboration is essential in photonics, where the combination of diverse knowledge can result in revolutionary advances in technology and its applications.

Automating Experimental Procedures

Automation is a third area in which AI is becoming a major factor in the field of academic research in the field of photonics. The automated labs equipped with AI-driven technology can carry out experiments with no human involvement. The systems can alter parameters continuously based on feedback, adjusting conditions for experiments to produce the highest quality outcomes.

Furthermore, robotic systems that are integrated with AI can perform routine tasks like sampling preparation and measurement. This is not just more efficient but also decreases errors made by humans, which results in more accurate results. Through automation researchers can devote greater time for analysis as well as development which will speed up the overall research process.

Predictive Analytics for Research Trends

The predictive capabilities of AI are crucial for analyzing and predicting research trends in the field of photonics. By studying the literature that is already in use as well as research outputs, AI algorithms can pinpoint new themes and areas of research. This insight can assist researchers to prioritize their work and identify emerging trends that could be destined to be highly impactful.

For organizations and funding bodies These insights are essential to allocate resources as well as strategic plans. If they can understand where research is heading, they are able to help support research projects that are in line with future requirements, ultimately leading to improvements that benefit the entire society.

Ethical Considerations and Challenges

While the advantages of AI in speeding up research in photonics are evident however, ethical considerations need to be taken into consideration. Questions like privacy of data and bias in algorithmic computation, as well as the possibility of misuse by AI technology warrant careful consideration. Institutions and researchers must adopt responsible AI practices to ensure that the applications they use enhance human decision-making and not substitute it.

In addition, the incorporation in the use of AI into academic studies calls for the level of digital literacy which not every researcher are able to attain. Therefore, investing in education and education about AI methods and tools is vital to reap the maximum potential advantages.

Conclusion

The significance of AI in speeding up research at universities, especially in the field of photonics, is extensive and multifaceted. Through improving data analysis and speeding up the discovery of materials, encouraging collaboration, facilitating experimental procedures and providing insights that are predictive, AI is reshaping the research landscape. As the area of photonics continues to grow, the integration of AI technologies is certain to be a key factor in fostering innovation and expanding our knowledge of applications based on light.

Through embracing these developments scientists can open up new possibilities for research, which ultimately lead to significant scientific and technological advancements. As we move forward on this new frontier, interaction with AI as well as academic researchers will prove essential to address the challenges and opportunities ahead. The synergy between these two disciplines will not only speed up discovery in photonics, but also has the potential to change our understanding of and interaction with the world that surrounds us.

[trashpandacraft]

when we last saw our hero (me, in this instance), they had just run out of photos on their sheep and wool post because apparently the accursed tumblr app has a ten-photo limit. fear not, though, because now i'm on my actual computer!

so: bendigo sheep and wool pt ii: the fibre!!

i bought a couple silk hankies, because i've never spun one before and it sounded fun, and they were cheap. couldn't find any undyed, alas, but surely someone on the internet does that, right?

i also bought some dyed mulberry silk. i've got some tussah that i'm going to dye, but these were pretty and relatively inexpensive, and i'm a sucker.

aaaaaand then i bought some sari silk, which i've never used before! several of you have been doing some gorgeous stuff with sari silk recently, though, and i'm a copycat, so here we are.

i have no idea why my phone decided that all of these needed to have ~depth~ added to the shots, but i'm not hauling all of this out again, so here we are. you get the vibe.

i also got a little coil of bamboo fibre, because i've never spun bamboo on its own before. (i don't know if i'll actually spin this on its own or if i'll blend it, but now i have the option!)

i also got a thing of optim fibre (incredibly poorly formatted post from 2011, but explanatory), which i've never used before—it's merino that's been processed to stretch it out, making it even finer and softer. it's sort of weird to touch—it feels more like silk or created fibres than it does wool, but it seemed like it would be fun to try.

moving on to even more exciting stuff, we bought some castledale top. castledale isn't a breed yet, but is being developed as one, and i've heard that it's a delight to spin.

obviously it was important that we get both the plain and the kind with silk in it.

and, see, that was important because we hadn't yet done the most exciting thing we did all weekend, which was finding some gorgeous, affordable, locally made hand combs!

if you're in australia and want fibre tools, you should absolutely check out their website, and honestly, even if you're not, the shipping might be worth it. they were so, so nice, and the tools we got there are just gorgeous. (they're less yellow than this, in person, but my phone doesn't play nicely with the purple light in my bedroom at eleven p.m.)

we ended up getting mini combs, because as we were talking, the guy who makes them noticed my heavily kt-taped wrist and pointed out that the mini combs are less wear on your wrists, which sold me.

they also had some wonderfully designed lazy kates, which will hopefully let me avoid ever having to do this again.

the cleverest part is that it flat packs—the bobbin holders just lift out, and the orifice (it has an orifice!!) is held in place by the little screw up front. the tension is controlled by turning the knob, just like on a spinning wheel.

can't say enough about what lovely people they were, and i'm so excited to have enough fine motor control that it feels safe to assemble the cards. this weekend, hopefully.

and you might be thinking 'ok but are you just like...using those for blending?' and the answer would be no!! because we also bought these!

i went in thinking 'oh, i'm going to get something that's not an incredibly fine wool,' but like...what was i thinking? we're in australia. the only thing anyone produces here is fine wools! which isn't at all a complaint, because this looks gorgeous. so we got 1.5 kilos of corrie, and 1.7 of a bond/merino cross. the cross in particular looks absolutely stunning, and i cannot wait to start playing with them.

the rather elderly (80-ish?) woman working at the north east yarns booth gave us a lengthy talk about spinning in the grease, which i might try. one of the really interesting things to me here was that i've only ever looked at raw fleeces in the northeastern us before now, where the weather concerns are...uh, somewhat different? these fleeces don't have the dirt that i've seen on raw fleece before, just dusty bits—they're almost more like what i would associate with alpaca with regards to actual dirt/vm, but with bonus lanolin. so that's a nice bonus, and makes the idea of spinning in the grease was less offputting. (yes, i know that you can buy cleaner fleeces in the united states, too, and you can coat your sheep or have dry weather or whatever, but that's not an experience that i personally have had.)

this concludes (mostly) the list of things i bought at sheep and wool (also i bought slippers), and illustrates both why i cannot be trusted and also incredible restraint on my part.

[maskedemerald]

Writer Q&A Tag

Took a while but thanks @pb-dot for the tag! It got a little long but I really enjoyed doing this!

What motivates you to write?

My mind is nearly always churning with ideas and stories. If I left them there they would stage a rebellion. No but really I'm motivated to write because I love telling stories. I want to share those stories with others where I can. I'm always my first target audience and if I like it then there is sure to be someone else out there.

A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work that you love (just please credit them)

Picking a bit of my writing is hard. I have scenes that I really like in all of my WIPs but its hard to choose something. Right now with my focus on A Curiosity Piqued the bit I would like to share most is my opening. I just feel it really sets well the frame of mind Aelfraed is in at the start.

Aelfraed had been hearing the snapping of the metaphorical thread for weeks, the weight of years of pressure pulling on him. Stretching fibres fraying. He was about to break.

Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

I must betray Aelfraed right now, he isn't the character that makes me feel like this. It depends depends on the story. For A Curiosity Piqued it would be Ari but they don't show up for some time so Shhh... secrets. As for Magic Act I'd say it's Night. I love the mysterious over enthusiastic fae. I love how sinister they are without meaning to be and trying so hard to understand humans. Specifically Magician who they are currently helping to hide.

What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

The drafting process. I like the flow and creativity that is involved. I'm distinctly less fond of editing and unfortunately editing is where I am at the moment with the first A Curiosity Piqued novella. Maybe I can change hating editing this time!

What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

I think the thing I do best when I'm writing is getting in the heads of characters. I find when I get really into a character's head for a scene the writing flows. My favorite though are the existential crises, if I haven't given a protagonist one its more I haven't given them one yet!

What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

Honestly the tag games and asks. I love getting a tag or a question. It reminds me to talk about my project rather than just hide in a corner and write. It also sometimes has me thinking about things I hadn't considered before for a project!

Seriously I'll always be happy to see an ask or tag even if it takes me a while to get to it!

A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I know a lot of people here will be mentioning Scrivener. Scrivener is great and I love using it but I really want to talk about the notebooks I use for discovery drafts. When it comes to the very very first draft of a story before I even have a proper outline I like to pick out a nice notebook that has something about it that feels inspiring for the story. Basically pretty notebooks inspire me and give me some feel for the mood of the story too. It also means I write with a certain level of no taking back what I have written which is great for fighting through that first draft. Once I've got that go with the flow stage done things get digital for making a proper outlined first draft.

A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

The thing is I love world building, I could probably answer this for all the WIPs I have shoved under the rug in the corner that I have to keep sweeping back under if I want to focus on my main ones.

For A Curiosity Piqued it would have to be the magic system. I wanted a system with hard rules about what can be done and how, while still having a sense of mystery. That comes from treating it as a science. The society is experimenting and learning how magic works while also learning how other sciences work so that they can use that in their magic. The rule at its most basic is you have to have an understanding of how it works to do it magically. Traditional healing magic can seal a cut because they've seen it happen over time and know what helps. More advanced healing magic needs knowledge of the science of how the body heals that deeper or larger injury what the blood does, what the cells do, etc.

What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Don't be afraid to take breaks if you need them, burning out will not help.

Pick something in your project that makes you smile and write that next. Not got any. Drabble with your characters with tropes that make you smile. Like found family? Write a fluffy scene of your characters all together. It doesn't have to be something you use later just something to get you smiling about your project again. Get creativity flowing and the like.

It won't work for everyone but this it what helps for me when I'm struggling to find the motivation to write for a specific project.

Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

I smile when I see posts from @pb-dot , @scribe-of-stories , @jasperygrace , @card-queen and @squarebracket-trick I love reading about their work, the snippets they post and the talk about the writing process. I would recommend checking out their blogs and dropping them a follow!

Gently no pressure tagging the people above if they haven't already done this. I'd always love to hear more about what you are creating and the process! Also to anyone else that wants to do this!

[selenethefeline]

The magic of passion

magic exists everywhere, not in the hands of the powerful, but in the domain of the mundane. blankets that feel warm to the touch, lamps that seem to burn longer the ones around them, axes that dull slower than others, forges that seem to burn hotter than lava, tools that last longer than the rest.

The process of creating imbues magic into the creation, a beautiful work of craftsmanship dull compared to a knife wrought from scrap steel, no matter the beginning or end of a craft, magic is drawn from the fibres of the universe and woven into the tools of man.

It is said that magic is called forth by passion, passion pressed into the very material of the world itself. Passion warped, shaped, woven, forged, written, crafted, mined and much more. After all, the most important part of the process is the journey, not the beginning or the end

Just an idea for a magic system I had lol, Based around crafting and making things, but not artificing where the end goal is to make something magical. By making things, sometimes what you make becomes magical even if you yourself are pretty regular.