#no fishing rod would be as valuable to me as one with your name on it and I lost it. can you give me a new one? doesn’t need to be enchanted

[poppyseed799]

Should I make an oc based on my dramatic feelings I had on a pirate minecraft server back in like oh what year would that have been it was 1.12 I think. Or 1.11.

[apothecarinomicon]

Spring week 4 part 3

After my hectic experience with the marshbloom, I decided to take a day for myself. Greenmoor isn’t anywhere near the ocean, but Meltwater Loch is big enough that I figured a day spent there could be considered a beach day. And after the couple of weeks I’d had, boy did I need a beach day.

But anyone who’s read this far ought to be familiar with my luck by now. There’s a lot to record, but I’ll try to get it down in order.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

It was a beautiful day—clear blue sky, warm air, and (at least when I first arrived) no one around at Meltwater Loch. I spread out a towel on the beach and laid down for a good session of sunbathing. I’ve never been one for tanning, but  simply laying doing nothing while being warmed by the sun and cooled by the breeze felt absolutely decadent.

After a while of simply existing, I became aware of the sound of a bird calling above me. I cracked my eyes open and recognized the large forms of a pair of gull-drakes flying overhead. Gull-drakes are a strange hybrid, both reptilian and avian. Their torsos and wings are feathered, while their heads, tails, and talons are scaled. They do have beaks like gulls, but their tails are prehensile like their alleged draconic ancestors’. I say ‘alleged’ because no one knows how the hybrid gull-drake came into being. The sheer anatomy and scale discrepancy between the average seagull and the average dragon fossil (they were much larger in ancient times than the pocket-sized lizards we have today) seems to rule out any cross-breeding. Additionally, the typical combination of traits displayed by gull-drakes is too awkward and ungainly to be the result of natural selection. And yet, there have been records of the gull-drake’s existence for just about as long as there have been records—the third-oldest surviving written document, in fact, is a bestiary which includes them along dozens of other species, most of which are now extinct.

Nature is a strange thing.

Digressions aside, there was a reason this caught my attention. Gull-drakes are scavengers, and have been known to leave catches uneaten while they go out to hunt for more. It’s just an evolutionary quirk—they prefer to feast only once per day. This means that, as they leave their nests unattended, some other opportunistic creature could come by and steal their catch. 

It’s easy to identify a gull-drake nest, too—they tend to be very large, and are often positioned balanced atop large, pointy rocks. If a gull-drake catches you stealing, though, it’ll chase you and squawk at you and try to peck you until you drop the stolen goods and flee. They’re not too smart, though, so hiding in nearby foliage (say, a patch of large ferns) will fool them easily.

All of this to say, I managed to get myself a shock fish without a rod, all while only getting chased a little ways by a jealous, stupid bird.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

As I returned to my towel, I heard an unusual sound—the put-put-put of a motor. Machinery of that kind is a fairly new invention, and unless you know how to make it, very expensive.

The woman driving the boat certainly looked like she knew how to make a motor. She was dwarven, with russet hair and a long beard, both held in thick braids. She was (as dwarves are) rather short—I'd estimate maybe one-and-a-fifth meters tall, and nearly as wide—with large hands and feet, and limbs thickly corded with muscle. She wore dark green coveralls and had a fairly heavy-duty fishing rod held in one hand so that it rested on her shoulder.

She shut the motor off as she neared and called out to me, asking if I was the village witch. I said that I was, and she told me that she was friends with my crocodilian patient. She thanked me for helping him, and said he would have been a goner without my potion-making skills. I demurred just a bit, saying I wasn't the only healer who helped him that day. She scoffed and dismissed my humility outright, saying that I might as well have been the only one—that without my care the village doctor wouldn't have been able to do anything.

She introduced herself as Janneth Hillhorn, and I told her my name in turn. She asked what I was doing out by Meltwater Loch and I told her I was taking a day off. She let me know that her cottage was just around the other side of the lake, near Glimmerwood Grove and right on the border of Blastfire Bog, and that I should feel free to stop in any time. I thanked her.

At this point, there was a tremor in the water. It couldn't have been an earthquake because the land wasn't shaking, but the water abruptly became much more active. Ocean-like waves crashed into the shore and Janneth held tight onto the sides of her boat, doing her best not to capsize. I would have been quite alarmed in her situation, but Janneth barely seemed preturbed. I asked something along the lines of "what the blight is going on?!" As the water settled, Janneth told me that this was a common occurence on Meltwater Loch, a quirk that—many said—was due to the emotions of its guardian sea-dragon, Bàs B��ta. I found this explanation rather silly, reminiscent of an old wives' tale. I'd never heard of a sea-dragon before, and given that the name ‘Bàs Bàta’ directly translated to "boat death," I figured it was just a local story told to frighten children and dismissed it out of hand.

Astute readers should be growing worried for me right about now.

Janneth offered to give me one of the fish she'd caught as a thanks for helping her friend. I initially refused, but she insisted. She looked through her basket and pulled out a dentist crab. The gel their claws produce is good for the mouth and plenty else besides, so I accepted and thanked her. She thanked me right back and said (perhaps jokingly?) not to run afoul of Bàs Bàta while I was out by the loch. I forced a laugh as she sped away.

Once she was out of sight, I collected some claw gel from the dentist crab and released it back into the water.

 ────⊱⁜⊰──── 

There was another rumbling as I made my way back to the beach, and as it abated I saw something bob up to the surface of the water close to the shore. It presented itself, et cetera et cetera, I waded in to see what it was.

I scooped it out of the water and found myself holding a glass bottle, like the kind that rum or sweet wine would come in, sealed with a cork and containing a rolled-up sheet of paper. Of course, I opened it immediately. I found that the sheet inside wasn’t quite *paper,* but something more slippery—maybe made of seaweed? It did have writing on it, though. As I unfurled it, a few things that looked like pebbles fell out. I barely managed to catch them before they hit the surface of the water. I put them in my pocket for safe keeping.

The writing on the note was as follows, with no spelling changes by me:

Let it be known that I fink this whole exercise is stupid. And pointless. And probly meant as some kind of sick, twisted punishment. No one but little kids believe in terrafolk, so I don’t know why the instructress is making us do this.

Even if anyfing could live above the water, there’s no way its advanced enough to read. How would it get all the minerals it needs wivout processing the water?

But anyway. I guess I ave to fulfill the prompt. 

Me name is Genoveva, I live in the I.S.A.C.S. (that's short for 'Isolated Sovereign Aquatic City-State, but we all just pronounce it like 'Isax") and I’m in the fifth year of me education. I hate me name. I wish I could ave somefing exotic like a John or a Steve or a Sarah, but I’m stuck wiv boring old Genoveva. If you’re somehow able to read this, that must mean you ave schools on the surface, too. Wat ar they like? Ar they as boring up there? We all ave to sit in a circle and listen to the instructress drone on and on and on.

I live wiv me merma and me perpa and me two baby brothers. Do you ave family? I've got loads of cousins too.

On the rubric it says I ave to include a small gift, so I'm putting some fossil fish scales in wiv this letter. I found em on me way to school this morning and there not of use to me, but I figure you probly don't ave fish on land so maybe scales ar valuable up there.

If you're inclined to write back (no pressure), you can just pop your note in the bottle and put it back into the water. It'll find its way to me—there's magic all around, don't you know.

Signed,

Genoveva Galbrait, 5th year

[An accessible version of this letter can be found here.]

The letter obviously has some pretty complex implications. An entire society under the surface of Meltwater Loch, entirely unaware of the world above the surface beyond fairy stories? What must life be like down there? What kind of society must they have? How do they supply food? Get rid of waste?

What resources might be available there that can't be found on the surface?

I decided that somehow I was going to find a way to visit ISACS, and learn everything I could about it. I bet that would impress the University of Arcbridge. I wasn't sure how I would breathe under the water for long enough, but I was determined to find a way.

Take your final guesses now what happened next.

That water-quaking started up again, this time stronger than before. Waves crashed against the beach where I stood, and I felt a great vibration in my chest and in my head. 

And then, it broke the surface of the water.

Giant and blue-green and serpentine, Bàs Bàta rose up before me. A blighting sea-dragon, it stood straight up in the air at least twice as tall as my cottage—and that was just the part of its body I could see. Its head was shaped like the tip of an arrow, with three great spikes sprouting out of the back (the outer two longer than the middle one). It let loose another deep roar, dousing me in spittle. It thrashed about, causing great waves to crash onto the shore, and through my shock I realized its movements might be less characteristic of anger than of pain.

My suspicions were confirmed when it roared again: one of the fangs right near the front of its mouth was missing a chip, and had a great crack running nearly all the way up to the root. That had to hurt. I'd never treated a non-humanoid  before—or, for that matter, a cracked tooth—but I realized even past the moral obligation to help, there was no way I could access the underwater city-state without calming Bàs Bàta down.

I found out later, after I'd scrambled away from the lake and sprinted back to the cottage, after wiping the saliva off of me and getting at least some of it in a bottle for potion use, that the saliva was actually a really useful ingredient in treating shattered teeth. As it turns out, it's a pretty strong painkiller. Unfortunately, I knew I'd need more than just that to make a cure, and with the sheer size of Bàs Bàta, I suspected I'd need to make more than one potion.

That will have to be a longer term project, then, because the events of my relaxation day have worn me out. I've got to get to bed. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

⇦●〇●⇨

[ice-the-creator-destroyer]

Minecraft story: Days 4-7

Days 1-3

Day 4:

At the suggestion of a friend, I turned off the auto-save feature and moved Chocolate Milk and Tess back into my house and closed off their access to the porch and Arnold’s Enclosure; this will restrict their movement to under 20 blocks in any direction so that they will not despawn. It has worked perfectly, but I still will not save my game when they are not both in my direct line of sight.

While I held what I think was a stack of two eggs, one from Tess and one from a chicken I had in my ranch outside, I tried and failed to eat a slice of cake, throwing the egg into the wall, hatching a small baby chicken. I had not intended on hatching these eggs; I had not really set in stone any plans for them, but they probably would have been made into a cake. I had full intentions of hatching Tess’s eggs, but only once I could assure they were all her eggs. I immediately fell in love with this baby chicken, and named him Lelo (it’s pronounced exactly like Lilo from Lilo and Stitch, but when I thought of the name, I visualized it with an e, so- yeah. It’s not like some thing to make him unique, it’s just how I visualized it.). I do not know whether or not Lelo is Tess’s biological child or if they were another chicken’s egg, but it does not matter now, because Tess has adopted him as her own, Lelo is Tess’s child and nobody can say otherwise. Of course, there was a bit of panic, as once Lelo grew up I would not be able to differentiate between him and Tess. I built a boat and placed Tess inside, and Chocolate Milk placed herself in the boat because that’s what Chocolate Milk does. Of course because my house was so small that the boat ended up blocking the front door, so now I have to leave my house through the back.

I added a storage room to my house after much frustration on what to keep and throw out due to inventory space.

I found an underwater ravine in the ocean beside the desert out behind my home. I have mined a lot here and it wielded lots of materials.

I HAVE ACQUIRED DIAMONDS! After literal hours of mining and searching, I finally found a pocket of 5 diamonds. I mined all around each diamond to ensure there was no lava around it that would burn it. I used three of the diamonds to make a diamond pickaxe, and then mined a sufficient amount of obsidian to assemble a Nether portal. I hope to go to the Nether and find a Nether fortress to find name tags inside the fortress. I have exited the game for the night, and will venture into the Nether tomorrow.

Day 5:

As YOGSCAST Lewis & Simon once said, Screw the Nether.

After a few minutes of prep, I began my journey into the Nether and was immediately attacked by a Ghast, who damaged me and put out my nether portal. I was able to re-light the portal and flee through it as I saw another shot coming towards me. Something interesting to note was that when I went back into the Nether, it was as if no time had passed, and the charge was still coming towards me.

Ghasts have been the bane of my existence. From the moment I stepped into the Nether they have harassed me at every turn. I tracked my progress and marked my way by the stone walls and hides I had scrambled together across the hellscape. I actually grew quite talented in fighting them, having stacks of cobblestone, able to craft a protective wall out of them in seconds, darting out from behind the wall and firing arrows, and surveying the area before dashing to the next protective wall of cobblestone I had built.

Fighting Ghasts requires a significant amount of arrows however, and there is only one way I know of acquiring feathers...

The chickens in the ranch outside my home are brought into the world and are often showered with seeds to help them grow big and strong quickly and then are paired off with a loving companion with whom they have lovely little children. What happens after that I try not to think about too much...

In order to feed the chickens and grow enough wheat to sustain the rapid consumption of bread in the Nether, I expanded my farm. It is not as neat and orderly as it was before, but it is more efficient.

I discovered that in the Nether, a short distance from the portal, was the end of the Nether, a large bedrock wall as rough and uneven as the bedrock at the bottom of the world. It is truly a sight to behold.

It is a well-known rule in Minecraft that a person should never dig straight down, but today, digging straight down saved my life. As I was fighting two ghasts behind a cobblestone wall, a third appeared behind me where I had no wall to protect myself, and fired at me. As someone who had been hiding behind stone walls for the past few hours, I guess I was in no position to judge the third Ghast’s tactics, like my own, it’s tactics sure as Nether were a lethal pain in the ass. I ran out into the open in my panic, and was now being fired upon by three Ghasts. Low on health, my body set ablaze and charing by the second, with terrifying beasts attacking me from both sides, I had no time to build an efficient cobblestone shelter, so in an attempt to save myself, I pulled one last desperate move: I dug a hole. Switching to my Iron Pickaxe, I looked straight below myself and dug. My body falling each block I removed, I quickly was out of the line of sight of the Ghasts. When I dug into a pocket of magma blocks and was damaged, I kept digging, knowing I would break through the pocket soon enough, and I did, emerging safely onto netherrack flooring. Safe away from the Ghasts, the fire charing my body fizzled out while I was at half a heart, leaving me severely injured, but alive. I placed a block of cobblestone above my head, and laughed at the absurdity of the situation and my luck.

When I returned home low on cobblestone, I built a cobblestone generator, with both water and lava flowing to meet and make cobblestone. I am ashamed to admit that I died to this contraption. Placing myself at the edge of the waterflow to more efficiently get the cobblestone before it was swallowed up by the lava, the water pushed me into the molten rock, setting my body ablaze. In a moment of sheer stupidity, I forgot that there was water right behind me as part of the contraption, and dashed to the ocean not far from the generator. Unfortunately, I had taken too much damage already, and the fire killed me while I was one block away from the water, scattering my inventory into the water, which I had to swim out for. I regained 7 of the 23-25 levels I had, a significant drop. After this I gave up on the cobblestone generator, and went out to the pathetic excuse for a cave not far from my home to mine cobblestone. During my mining, I found a large cave very similar to a small ravine. The only thing that differentiated it from a ravine was that the high ceiling did not open up to the sky. The single waterfall that led down all the way from the ceiling might have led to an ocean, making it an underwater ravine, but I did not check. I found 19 pieces of iron ore in this pseudo-ravine, and sufficient cobblestone from it and the cave I had come in from.

After many trips back and forth from the Overworld and the Nether for arrows, bread, and once cobblestone, I finally found a Nether Fortress. After one more trip back to the Overworld for sufficient preparations, I entered the fortress. I got all the way to the blaze spawners, but as I tried to destroy one of the spawners, I was killed by a blaze. After staring at the death screen for a moment, I turned off the PS3 and promptly gave up. The most valuable item I found in the chests leading up to that point was iron horse armor, and I don’t even have a horse.

I chose to raid the Nether Fortress for Name Tags instead of choosing the much easier fishing method is to reduce the kill count; I didn’t want to end so many fish’s lives just for Name Tags when I could go and get them in some chests in a fortress, but look at what has happened: I’ve had to kill so many chickens for feathers to make weapons used to kill other creatures. I cannot bring back the creatures I have killed, but I can choose to stop killing them. Screw the Nether, I’m goin’ fishin’.

Day 6:

At the suggestion of a friend I have rethought my decision to ditch the Nether. They reminded me that placing torches around a spawner will deactivate them, and suggested a more humane way of getting arrows: skeletons. Thank you friend, this world would be much bleaker without your advice.

I still took up fishing, knowing I could get name tags from there. I took nine fish, and after that, threw the rest back. I’ve gone fishing in real life before, there was no way that the fish could have died that soon after being caught. They’re not dead; shush.

I fished by day and hunted monsters by night. While fighting monsters at night, I encountered a Husk giving a Baby Zombie a piggy-back ride on it’s shoulders, though there is significant evidence to suggest that the Baby Zombie was controlling the Husk. I acquired sufficient arrows from the skeletons to venture into the Nether again, and acquired a saddle from fishing, but no Name Tags. Seeking to enchant my fishing rod with the Luck of the Sea enchantment to increase my chances of getting Name Tags, I went out to mine and found diamonds rather quickly, enough to craft an enchanting table, as I had used the previous 2 diamonds to craft a diamond sword in a moment of forgetfulness. I added another room to my house: a crafting room. Inside the room I placed a crafting table, an anvil, and an enchanting table. I remembered that I needed Bookshelves to increase the power of the enchanting table, but I was hesitant to acquire the leather required to craft books by killing cows. A quick internet search left me with another option: Fishing. Of course. I continued doing what I was doing: fishing by day and hunting Skeletons by night. As tools and armor naturally broke, I realized I was running low on iron, and that it would be smart to mine more iron now before my iron tools ran out rather than screwing myself over by not having any backups when they eventually broke. I went to a cave and began to mine, and found more caves and lots of iron.

One of the Zombie’s I was forced to kill in the cave dropped a potato?? I thought I would have to find a village to acquire potatoes but I guess not. I am growing potatoes now in my farm.

After being satisfied by the amount of iron I acquired, I tried to exit the cave, but discovered that I couldn’t find the way I had come in, running around in circles. I dug through the wall and my own exit, and emerged in a swamp. I spent the next chunk of my time lost in those swamps. I’m glad I got lost there of all places though, as I ended up finding slimes that I killed in self defense and got slimeballs that I later made leads out of. I made a 64 block tower of dirt with a torch atop it when I first got out of the cave to mark such a good mine; I used that tower to help find my way. I found a witch’s hut, but did not enter, knowing it was very dangerous. Night approached as I first saw the house, and I had my first encounter with Phantoms, as I had not slept in several days.

I eventually found my way back home, and might have kissed the ground if I had a button to do so. I am so happy to finally be home.

Day 7:

I returned to the Nether and entered the Fortress. I ran up the blaze spawners and blocked them all off with a wall of cobble, and placed torches around one which didn’t work. I soon realized that the spawners had no chests around them. I looked through what as far as I could tell was the rest of the Fortress, and none of the chests had Name Tags in them. I promptly left the Nether. Until I choose to go to the End, I will not be returning. Screw the Nether, everything I’ve done in the Nether has been an egregious waste of time, resources, effort, and life.

I went back to fishing. I crafted a boat and swam out a bit so no monsters could get me and set up shop. While fishing I caught a rod with Luck of the Sea II, Lure II, and Unbreaking III. No, I’m not kidding. It was on low durability so I went home, and merged it with my current fishing rod using my anvil.

I HAVE ACQUIRED NAME TAGS!!! I acquired them all through fishing. The first one I got I saw it as I reeled it in, and then it flew over my head. I scrambled around and out of the boat, swimming around until I found it. I named Tess first, as I needed to differentiate her from Lelo first and I wanted to let her out of the boat. She had been flapping her wings ever since she was put in the boat, and I know she was happy to finally be out. I accidentally hit Chocolate Milk while trying to break the boat; I’m sorry Chocolate Milk. They have now all been named, minus the dogs as they don’t despawn, and I opened up the way to Arnold’s Enclosure, before I remembered that wolves had spawned in there. I quickly blocked the enclosure back up. There was only one wolf in the enclosure, though before there had been four in there; I didn’t think wolves could despawn but apparently they can (Or they were killed by monsters.) I went to get bones, and then back into the enclosure and tamed the wolf inside. Welcome to the family Bernard.

I kinda don’t know what to do now. For the past few days the entirety of my time was dedicated to getting Name Tags for my companions. Almost everything I’ve done has been for them. I think I will just enjoy them for a while. I wasn’t there much while Lelo was growing up, and I’ve been on a mission since day 3; it’s day 7 now; I’ve been going in and out of the house without paying them as much attention as they deserve for longer than I have been paying them the attention they deserve. I gave them treats when I happened to have wheat or seeds in my inventory, but other than that they have sadly been neglected. I was so focused on keeping them safe and from despawning, I neglected their happiness. Well no more. From now on I’ll be showering them with the attention they deserve. Everything I’ve done so far has been for them, and it will continue to be. Chocolate Milk, Tess, Lelo, Norman, Betwood, Bernard, I love you all. Happy New Year.

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 27

I’m.......so fucking stoked to post this right now 

Ao3

“I need to stop and fill up,” Eretson mumbles ten silent minutes into the ride back to Fishlegs’ house. 

“How dare you?”  The silence shatters like physical bonds and Astrid sits up straight in the passenger seat, arms crossed to keep herself from hitting him. 

Or at least not hitting him yet.  She still might hit him, but not now, not until he explains where he left his brain. 

“I can make it,” he swallows, refusing to look at her, “the light comes on fifty miles before empty, anyway.” 

“Hiccup told me about the plea deal,” she tries to sound deadly but with her fists tucked away and her eyes tired, she’s not convinced that she gets the point across.  Especially when Eretson pulls up in front of Fishlegs’ house and looks at her with obvious pity, like she’s a kid and he’s about to have to explain that the fish he flushed down the toilet isn’t coming back. 

“We can talk tomorrow.”  Eretson gestures at the front door of Fishlegs’ house, porch light welcoming even now. 

“We can talk now,” she raises an eyebrow, “because I’m not telling Snotlout about this myself.” 

“Jorgenson will understand,” he shrinks a little under the statement though and she knows she’s struck a nerve.  Good.  If Eretson is stupid enough to put the idea of a plea deal in Hiccup’s evasive head, he deserves to look Snotlout in the face and admit it.  “He’s a cop.” 

“A cop who I haven’t seen put too many innocent people in jail on purpose,” she lets disgust leak into her tone and it’s enough that Eretson turns the car off with an efficient turn of the keys before climbing out of the car and striding ahead of her to the door. 

He doesn’t want to look at her right now, and that would make her want to get in his face if it wouldn’t put her expression in full display.  She doesn’t want to see her own face until she shoves useless despair back where it belongs, behind a wall of determination. 

“Detective Eretson?” Fishlegs answers Eretson’s knock and the other man holds up an almost surrendering hand. 

“Eret is fine.” 

“Is that like a nickname or something?”  Snotlout’s lying back on the couch, tossing a box of tissues up in the air and catching it.  He tries to lean up on his elbow, but it must hurt his stitches because he falls back again, the box hitting him in the face.  “Because it’s stupid, and I hate it.” 

“It’s not a nickname.” 

“No, it’s kind of just half your name.”  He sits up, using Heather’s shoulder for help even when she tries to shrug him off, obviously invested in the papers she has scattered across the floor. 

“How is that not a nickname?”  Heather snaps, smacking his hand away from her shoulder.  “Isn’t a nickname just a shortened version of someone’s name?” 

“Usually their first name, Heather, would you take me seriously if I went by ‘Jorg’?” 

“Probably,” she snorts, standing up and handing a piece of research to Astrid, highlighted and attached to a couple of sticky notes.  Something about the first canonical Grimborn murder and the despair fights against its cage.  “You know, since ‘Jorg’ is just Swedish for ‘George’.” 

“Why are you bringing up my name when this guy just announced that his name is Eret Eretson?” 

“You brought up your own name.” Fishlegs locks both of the new deadbolts he installed yesterday, his hand awkward on Hiccup’s borrowed drill, and if Astrid doesn’t hit someone soon, she’s going to scream. 

“Sixty-eight!” She settles for yelling at Snotlout, brandishing the research she doesn’t want to read like a weapon. 

“Why does that go on my tally?  Fishlegs was just the one talking—” His eyes widen and he holds his hands up apologetically, “wait no, I’m sorry Astrid.  So very sorry.” 

The apology is authentic enough to catch her off guard and she almost hits him anyway, for surprising her when she can’t tolerate anymore surprises, but it also gives her a moment to breathe and shrug and pretend she knows how to be reasonable. 

“It’s ok,” she bites her lip and gestures at Eretson, who she will not be calling by his first name because even though she lacks the bandwidth to agree with Snotlout right now, his name is stupid.  “Eretson has something to tell you.” 

“What?  Is your middle name ‘Son’?” 

“I talked to Hiccup today,” Eretson pulls the conversation back on topic and it’s anything but a relief.  Astrid wants to shout that she talked to him too, that he’s stupid and noble and not fine at all, but once again, that wouldn’t help anything.  “And introduced the idea of proposing a plea deal to implicate Grisly.” 

Snotlout frowns and looks between Astrid and Eretson before speaking slowly, “did he say no?” 

“He didn’t say anything,” Eretson shrugs, “I just told him to think about it.”

“Well, that was stupid,” Astrid laughs bitterly, “he doesn’t just think about anything, he obsesses over everything.” 

Snotlout and Fishlegs share a knowing look and Astrid raises an eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Snotlout drops her question almost too gently, and she’d be suspicious if she had room for anything other than mounting panic at the thought of Hiccup following Eretson’s advice. 

“What was that look?” 

“There was no look,” Snotlout shrugs, looking back at Eretson. 

“It’s just that you calling Hiccup obsessive is a little…well, someone mentioned Viggo Grimborn outside your apartment a couple of times and now you’re involved in a copy cat murder investigation.”  Fishlegs says gently, if a little condescendingly, and Astrid purses her lips. 

 “A few times a night, maybe.” 

“And I don’t think you’ve been outside in days because you’re researching so frantically, so you calling someone obsessed—”

“Are you done?”  She cuts him off and he holds his hands up.  “Because I’m trying to talk about the horrifically stupid idea of Hiccup accepting some kind of plea deal.” 

“How exactly is it stupid?” Snotlout asks, too gentle, and she blinks at him. 

“Because he’s innocent?” Heather answers for her, “and admitting to something that he didn’t do isn’t the smart way to handle this?” 

“Plus, think about how it would look when this does go to trial,” Astrid points out and Heather nods in agreement. 

“A trial will take months,” Eretson says, too gently, and she hates when the truth doesn’t sound like a point.  “Months you have to keep looking, whether he takes the deal or not.” 

“Forensics should have enough for dismissal in months,” Astrid’s voice cracks and she forces it even, ignoring worried looks that she doesn’t want, “why do you think Viggo Grimborn wasn’t caught?  He wasn’t a criminal mastermind, it’s just that no one could fingerprint him or use a DNA sample.” 

“Forensics will be valuable at a trial,” Eretson’s measured voice makes her want to scream, like maybe if she’s loud enough she can force something to happen, “but it’s still about convincing a jury.” 

“I wish the news would stop covering it,” Heather mutters and Snotlout shoots her a look before talking. 

“What kind of plea would you even be asking for?” 

“I was thinking something along the lines of trading information in exchange for a reduced sentence,” Eretson fidgets with his sleeves, pushing them up and letting them fall back down, twitchy at the odds of getting yelled at again. 

“So, he trades the ‘insider information’ that Grisly is a sociopathic serial murderer and they ship him off to the nice prison upstate while they investigate,” Snotlout mulls that over for a second, “as much as I hate to say it, that’s not a bad idea.” 

“Really?”  Eretson flushes and clears his throat, standing up straight like his spine has been replaced by a curtain rod.  “I’ve been looking through Grisly’s case notes and I don’t like the idea of him having months to patch up the few holes I’ve found so far.” 

“Then what do you do a few months down the road when forensics prove that Hiccup had nothing to do with it?”  Astrid hates even entertaining the idea long enough to say it out loud and Heather seems to agree, nodding emphatically.  “But there’s a record of him confessing, what happens to that?” 

“Unless Grisly planted Hiccup’s hairs all over or something,” Snotlout says, a little desperate, worry leaking through in ways Astrid doesn’t understand.  “Either way though, it’s contempt of court or obstruction of justice or something and he can appeal—"

“So, more time in court, more chances for disaster,” she laughs, the thought of further disaster too heavy and impossible to take seriously, “all to tell a lie that’s going to be overturned by evidence anyway?” 

“All to get my couch back,” Fishlegs says quietly after a minute, appearing at Astrid’s side and putting an arm over her shoulders.  It’s shepherding as much as comforting and she digs in her heels against being herded. 

“You can stay with me,” Heather offers, and Astrid never thought she’d consider Heather the only other person with sense. 

“Your address is on file,” Eretson shakes his head, “it’s not safe while Grisly is still out there—”

“I don’t care,” Astrid shoves Fishlegs’ arm off, unsure how she’s the one in the corner when Hiccup is the one in the cell. 

“I do,” Snotlout is quiet, almost apologetic as he looks at her, “I’m getting pretty sick of hiding out while the guy trying to kill me gets to think he’s winning.” 

“So, Hiccup is supposed to confess to something he didn’t do so you can feel like you’re winning?”  Heather snips and Snotlout rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t talk to me about what’s best for Hiccup, you ditched him as soon as you disagreed about Vinyl Greenbean—”

“Then why are Astrid and I the only ones who don’t want him to lie during a criminal trial—”

Heather and Snotlout bicker like siblings, the kind of vicious back and forth perfected over years of disagreements, but something about their timing is off, like there’s a hole, a third voice supposed to flit back and forth alongside theirs.  Astrid can hear its absence louder than any memory of Hiccup’s voice and the thought makes her swallow hard, clinging to something looking more impossible every second. 

What if there’s no way to make this all go away?  What if she does have to find some way to move on with her life while trials drag out across weeks or months or years? 

She doesn’t want her life back, not while Hiccup isn’t in it.  Not while he doesn’t have his.  

“Enough,” Eretson cuts across the arguing with a tired, heavy order that everyone takes.  Snotlout turns to point at him, irritated, but he stays quiet as Eretson continues.  “None of this is going to be decided tonight, it’ll take time to talk through either way, so maybe it’s best to…”

“Hiccup’s already decided,” Astrid glares at Eretson one last time before sitting on the couch and diving into Heather’s nearest pile of research, hoping for some concrete fact large enough to drown out her fears. 

00000 

The memo to leave her alone must be delivered to appropriate parties, because she spends the next three days researching in relative privacy.  Ruffnut helps, which means she hangs around and talks about nothing in particular, but it’s better than Fishlegs’ quiet worry or Snotlout being a little too nice.  Ruffnut is at the archives when Eretson and Heather show up, looking official enough that it sends a thrill of cool fury down her spine.  

One of these days, Eretson is going to tell her that Hiccup accepted a plea deal and she’s going to hit him.  It’s inevitable and infuriating and it takes everything in her not to wish it would hurry up, even sarcastically. 

She’s not supposed to be the cynical one, there’s supposed to be someone else here to do that. 

“What do you want?” She doesn’t so much greet Eretson as warn him. 

Eretson glances suspiciously at Ruffnut before talking, “I was hoping—”

“We were hoping,” Heather tries to soften the tone of the situation and Astrid sighs, forcing her expression placid as she waves Eretson on with a falsely casual hand.

“There’s a piece of evidence I’d like your opinion on,” He produces a thumb drive and looks pointedly at Ruffnut again, waiting for her to take the hint. 

“Ooh, evidence?  I’m in.”  She intercepts the hint and runs with it, snatching the drive and plugging it into Astrid’s computer. 

“Actually, it’s sensitive,” Heather tries and fails to beat Ruffnut to the mouse and Astrid crosses her arms. 

“I trust her with sensitive.” 

“You do?” Ruffnut snorts, clicking play before Eretson can stop her. 

It’s a grainy, night-vision video of a man in a top hat and a long coat limping fluidly across the street in front of Astrid’s apartment building.  In the fifteen seconds shown, the figure never shows his face, instead leaning the hat closer to the camera as he raises a long arm upwards and covers the lens in what Astrid assumes is black spray paint. 

The time stamp is for the morning Hiccup got arrested, at 3:28am. 

“We know it’s not Hiccup,” Heather placates, and Astrid wipes her palms on her jeans. 

“Someone sure tried to make it look like him though,” she sighs, “play it again.” 

The second playthrough she tries to ignore the mocking in the swinging limp, the coat that hangs wrong, the arm that moves slowly through a calculated arc.  She succeeds enough to notice the hat, fluorescing just enough in the night-vision to make itself unique. 

“Look,” she pauses the video, pointing at a splatter of small smudges on the front of the hat forming almost a halo around a larger smudge on the top of it, “what’s that stain?” 

“I wondered that too,” Heather tries to take the mouse and Astrid bristles for a second before letting her, “but then I looked into the camera that Gobber put up and apparently it’s some paranormal detection model with a UV mode.” 

For the first time, something clicks just next to Grisly’s painted narrative, a single fallen leaf looped into an eddy instead of following the current all the way down. 

“Snotlout had Hiccup’s hat.” Astrid starts looking through her phone, hoping she texted someone or took some picture, something concrete to prove what she’s saying.  “The night he was over at my place and got shot.  But he didn’t have it at the hospital, so there’s no way that Hiccup had it the other morning.” 

“How do you know this is his hat?”  Eretson asks and Astrid points at the largest faintly glowing stain. 

“Toothpaste fluoresces,” she laughs, finally feeling like she might be getting somewhere after eons of dead ends, “that’s—I know I got toothpaste on his hat and the rest…if I had to guess, it’s blowback, from when Grisly shot Snotlout.  He must have taken the hat then.” 

“So, you’re saying the fact that you can prove it’s Hiccup’s hat…means it’s not him blacking out the camera?”  Heather looks at Eretson for corroboration. 

“The only proof we have against Grisly is Jorgenson’s testimony,” Eretson shakes his head, “and I don’t want to bring him in yet.  What about proof that Hiccup didn’t shoot Jorgenson and take his hat back?” 

“You saw him at the hospital,” Astrid tries, the memory of Hiccup strung out and exhausted tugging at heartstrings that must remain double-knotted if she has any chance of being useful through this.

“That won’t hold up in court,” Eretson shakes his head and Astrid wants everyone to leave so she can keep reading and figure out some magical way that this doesn’t go to court.

A way other than a plea deal that resigns Hiccup to being known as a murderer or at least an accomplice.  She just needs time and she can fix this.  She’s sure there must be a hole somewhere, no one is perfect, least of all Grisly. 

“Wait, before the hospital, he was with me,” Ruffnut supplies, crossing her arms. 

“What?”  Astrid tries to communicate her anger at not being told that little detail earlier with her eyes. 

“We were at the condos trying to sneak into Grisly’s office.”  She laughs, “we succeeded, and got caught and—oh wow, that’s not a funny story anymore knowing he was coming from shooting Snotlout.” 

“How was that ever a funny story?”  Astrid doesn’t expect an answer, but Ruffnut, as always, defies expectation. 

“It was hilarious, we were like pretending to be married—that’s how I grabbed his ass, remember?” 

Of course Astrid remembers, but she never thought the nonsense coming out of Ruff’s mouth and igniting useless little furls of jealousy would ever be pertinent to something this important.  She half thought Ruffnut was kidding to urge her into some kind of forward motion, and she didn’t really have a chance to get past half-thinking about the comment. 

“Does Grisly know you snuck into his office?”  Eretson asks, frustrated that it’s a question he needs to worry about but obviously relieved that he’s no longer obligated to report on its legality. 

“He caught me,” Ruffnut shrugs, “but Hiccup got out without Grisly seeing him.” 

“There goes that alibi,” Eretson mutters and Astrid tucks her hair behind her ear, trying not to feel defeated in her once sacred role. 

“I could—you know, I could go down to the station right now and—”

“I’m saving that,” Eretson says cryptically, a whisper in the mausoleum dedicated to her chances of helping. 

“Fine.”  She stalks off to the nearly completed Grimborn room and everyone is gone by the time she risks going back to her desk. 

When she gets back to Fishlegs’ house and knocks on the front door, Snotlout swears inside, obviously startled, and she’s irritated until he opens the two deadbolts and she sees the relief in his face. 

“Sorry.”  She doesn’t know what else to say and immediately wishes she’d said nothing. 

“It’s fine.”  He seems to stuff down what he wants to say, “you’re not Grisly.” 

“Guilty,” she tries to joke but it’s not funny and she wonders what Hiccup would say.  “About the plea deal—”

“What’s your team?” Snotlout interrupts, introspection wrongly-sized on his face.

“What?” 

“I’ve never asked what team you actually support,” he shrugs and she narrows her eyes, “is it the Chiefs? I bet it’s the Chiefs.  Vikings fan?—"

“Why?” 

“They uh…having a good season?”

“Goodnight,” she stalks past him to the couch and opens the notebook she left on the coffee table, re-reading Hiccup’s notes for the millionth time. 

00000

The next time Eretson and Heather show up at the archives, Astrid tries to ignore him, but curiosity gets the better of her and she acquiesces to his questions with a nod. 

“Have you found anything promising?”  He asks like he already knows the answer and she flips through Hiccup’s notes to the creased, crumpled picture of the ‘Al, I.’ safe message. 

“I did think of something earlier,” she ignores how Heather examines the picture with authentic interest, trying to remember the details of Hiccup’s interrupted tour, even though it hurts, terrified that the memory of his shocked, delighted face under spontaneous hat hair when she took control will fade.  “If the whole idea is that Hiccup is mimicking the Grimborn murders, why didn’t he leave a message on the wall?  He clearly had paint,” she references the video from earlier in the week, but even she can hear how feeble the idea is. 

He didn’t have time to leave a safe message because he got caught.  Copycat killers don’t purposefully leave more evidence.  She’s grasping and it’s obvious and desperate and she hates the edge of pity in Eretson’s expression as he sighs. 

Astrid’s jaded enough by this point to not ask if she can go with him when he leaves.  Something tells her the plea deal is more probability than possibility at this point. 

Heather stays though, asking to see the Berk Enquirer where Astrid found the ‘Al, I.’ safe message, her hands careful on the wrinkled pages that Hiccup clenched in his fist a world ago, when all of this seemed random.  Snotlout and Ruffnut show up not too much later and Ruffnut produces a flask from her purse, setting it purposefully in the middle of the table. 

“Antique documents,” Astrid hisses half-heartedly, pulling the pages away and brushing at a drip of nose-burning alcohol on the corner. 

“Tuffnut made this,” she drums her fingers on the table, “do we try it?  Or is that a really bad idea?  Or do we try it because it’s a really bad idea?” 

“If we’re trying bad ideas…” Astrid closes the notebook she was reading and the lack of distraction makes the day instantly heavier.  “I have a couple others I’d put first.” 

Hitting Eretson.  Draining her bank account to hire her own lawyer and sue Eretson.  Go down to the station and tell all the truths she’s been holding back.  Hit Grisly while she’s at it. 

“We should try it,” Snotlout rubs his hands together then pauses, “or we could try whatever bad idea Astrid wants to try first, I’m open.” 

“Stop,” she glares at him. 

“Stop what?” 

“Being so nice,” her shudder is involuntary, “it’s not going to make me feel any better about the plea deal.  And it’s creepy.” 

“It is creepy,” Heather agrees, “it’s like the threat of Astrid hitting you sixty plus times finally taught you humility or something.” 

“She can’t,” his wince is exaggerated, “I’d still die.  It wouldn’t be any better than handing me over to Grisly.” 

“Sounds like that might be easier on you,” Ruffnut laughs, eternally repositioning herself into the audience. 

Astrid opens her mouth to say something to Heather but a choked breath is all that comes out as her eyes widen.  Easier.  Grisly has a plan to make this easier. 

“That’s it,” she says quietly, morbid confidence welling behind it, “that’s his out.” 

“Hey, don’t actually turn me over to Grisly, just because you don’t like—”

“No,” she shoves the rest of Hiccup’s notes in her bag, “that’s Grisly’s plan.  That’s how none of this catches up to him, that’s how forensics doesn’t uncover anything.  That’s how he keeps this out of trial, where he’ll obviously lose.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“And the deal is going to rush it—”

“Astrid—" Ruffnut goes to stand up, but Heather beats her to it, following Astrid to the archives’ staircase. 

“I’ll be back at Fishlegs’ later,” Astrid doesn’t stop Heather from following her, taking a brief chance on the camaraderie born in the fire of all these recent disasters. 

“What are you doing?” Heather asks outside, pulling an umbrella out of her bag when a crack of thunder punctuates the conversation. 

 “I’m going to go see Hiccup.”  She feels better saying it out loud.  More solid.  More effective. 

“He doesn’t want you to,” Heather pauses like she’s holding something else back, but Astrid keeps walking, arms crossed against the rain. 

“Well I don’t want to sit around joking about him being in jail.”  She lets her realization sit for a second, pausing as long as she dares to think about it without throwing off the rest of her juggling rhythm.  Being equally annoyed at Snotlout’s story isn’t really a reason to trust Heather, but it’s all Astrid has, and she flicks her a careful, judgmental glance.  “I have to warn him.  Even if it’s another wild guess—”

“Slow down,” Heather frowns, moving close enough to share her umbrella, “warn him about what?” 

Astrid sighs, once again leaning into the uncomfortable truth that she can’t do this alone, “if Grisly is really planning on getting away with framing Hiccup with modern forensics and psychological assessments working against him, he can’t let this go to trial.  And at this point, the only way to stop it from going to trial is to make sure there’s no one to try.” 

It’s abstract and cluttered and everything she can do to not say ‘kill’. 

“How are you planning on getting into the jail?”  Heather asks after a silent second, handing Astrid the umbrella to dig through her bag. 

“I…hadn’t thought that far.”  She curses herself, trying to rein the useless panic back in. 

“Snotlout never took his badge back.”  Heather hands her an all too familiar shield shaped badge in a thin leather wallet and reaches back into her bag, “or his gun—”

“Why would I need a gun?” 

“If you’re right…” She trails off pragmatically and Astrid swallows hard, shaking her head. 

“If I’m wrong, I’m breaking enough laws impersonating a police officer.  How do you know the badge will work?” 

“It’s how I got in last time, there wasn’t even a guard on duty at the side door, I just scanned the badge and went up.  He was on the top floor then, in the smallest corner cell.”  She produces a keyring and holds it up by a non-descript silver key, “this opened the hallway door.” 

“You aren’t going to tell me to stay out of it?”  Astrid pauses, the rain on the umbrella punctuating her half thoughts.  Maybe she should ask for the gun after all. 

“I think it’s your business whether you stay out of it or not.” 

It’s either a setup or it’s not.  Heather is either with Grisly or not.  Astrid either showed her hand or she didn’t, and either way, her next move is the same.  Tell Hiccup. 

Heather goes back to the archives, or the station, or to Grisly’s office to tell him what’s going on.  Astrid doesn’t know and she doesn’t have room to care, not when the last week without seeing Hiccup might be coming to something like an end.  A point of punctuation, at least, a new anchor before the next disaster, whatever it will be. 

The side door of the county jail opens like the alley door of an office building when Astrid holds the badge against it, and if it weren’t for the Berk Police Department insignia on the wall inside, she could almost believe she was going to a doctor’s appointment or to see an accountant.  That illusion shatters though when she looks through the small bulletproof window on the second-floor landing and sees a line of men in orange jumpsuits walking down the hallway, shepherded by a guard in a gray uniform that sends a shiver up her spine. 

She’s never seen a prison guard, their uniforms could be gray for all she knows, but they look too much like NWF for comfort. 

The badge works again at the sensor next to the door on the top floor and she slips through, shutting it quietly behind her and not giving herself time to pause or think, because if she did, she might realize what a horrible idea this is.  The umbrella in her hand drips a trail of raindrops on the floor as she walks purposefully, trying to project that she knows what she’s doing and she’s supposed to be here as she makes her way to the last door on the left, hoping for the first scrap of luck that she’s had since she found Elizabeth Smith’s apartment. 

The key Heather gave her slides easily into the lock, turning with an anticlimactic click, and she slips inside before she can think better of it. 

“Astrid?”  Hiccup’s voice splits the silence with a stab of shaky confusion, a wall of bars between them dividing his haggard face into three parallel snapshots of shock. 

“Hi.”  She looks him up and down, making sure he’s real and whole, struggling to hold onto the urgency that propelled her up here on a whim. 

“How—”

“Snotlout’s badge,” she shows him before shoving it into her pocket to free up a hand that she rests tentatively on the crossbeam of the cold bars.  He hesitates before setting bony, clammy fingers on hers, jaw flexing under the extra week of stubble too obviously, like he’s lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose. 

He looks worse than he did through plexiglass and her heart aches. 

“Heather…” His expression is resolute, but his eyes are soft, “you shouldn’t be here.” 

“Neither should you,” she snaps a little too loud, “and I’m trying to fix it, I’m trying to find something wrong in Grisly’s setup, but I don’t see how to make it fall apart before it goes to trial.  Or worse, before you force it into an early plea deal.” 

“Trial,” Hiccup’s lips twist into a nauseous smirk and her hand itches to wipe it off.  “Grisly seems to think this won’t make it that far.” 

“He said that?”  Astrid’s blood runs cold and fast, like her veins are an Alaskan rafting course, and Hiccup’s fingers curl absently around her knuckles, thumb brushing hers as he frowns. “And the plea deal would make it happen so much faster, but—did he really say that he wasn’t going to let it go to trial?”

“Something similar,” he shrugs a scrawny shoulder and his frown deepens, “you really shouldn’t be here.” 

“The only way that Grisly could avoid a trial would be if there’s no one to try.  If the murders stop and the evidence lines up, why would anyone dig deeper?  Especially if he got rid of you, that would be easiest for him.”  She needs to say ‘kill’, she knows she does, she needs to drag Hiccup along with her on a tour of their macabre reality, but the word sticks in her throat like its determined to choke her.  “It’s the only thing that makes sense, it’s the only way any of this fits—”

“I love you.”  Hiccup doesn’t stutter or choke or quibble.  He looks at her, ghost of a smile haunting the corner of his mouth as his hand tightens on hers.  “You know, just in case you’re right again and I don’t get another chance.”

Her heart skips a beat then makes up for it, and at first, she thinks she imagines the clapping. 

It almost sounds like the pounding in her head, a little uneven, emphasis drifting slightly off beat.  It could be an echo, a residual from the way her heart is pounding, fear and confusion rattling around her chest. 

It could be a symptom of her brain shutting down, until the laugh. 

There’s nothing humorous in the sound, nothing alive.  It’s half awkward chuckle after dropping a stage prop and half delighted to stumble upon adequate improv partners. 

It’s Grisly in the doorway with a knife. 

Hiccup’s top-hat is crooked on his head, as out of place as his unpracticed smile, but twice as insulting.  He claps again, impersonating some concept of glee, and Astrid’s feet feel glued to the floor. 

“You love her?”  He laughs, the sound rich like blood, more alive than she’s ever heard him, “I had my suspicions, but I never dreamed I’d see them confirmed.” 

“What are you doing here?”  Hiccup’s voice is dull and quaking with some deep-set vulnerability that makes Astrid want to protect him. 

“Your dutiful lawyer is downstairs negotiating a plea bargain,” Grisly says like he’s delivering bad news, looking down at the knife in his hand with an almost fond smile, “he seems to think that horrible judge might go easier on you if you talk.  And maybe it’s true, some people must be a fan of your talking for you to have made it this far.”  When he looks back up, his smile is almost peaceful, like he’s nearly at the end of a very long, arduous road.  “I’m not one of them.” 

“I thought you enjoyed our conversations,” Hiccup angles himself like there’s some impossible way he could shield Astrid even when she’s on the same side of the bars as the madman with a knife, and his eyes scream ‘run’ in a language Astrid doesn’t speak.  

“Astrid,” Grisly doesn’t ignore Hiccup’s struggle to protect her as much as he passively enjoys it, like background music amplifying the emotion in a movie scene.  “This is long overdue, I was hoping to save you the inconvenience of coming down here by making a house call—”

“Leave her alone!” Hiccup yells, desperate, the walls swallowing most of the volume even as it leaves Astrid’s ears ringing. 

There are cameras in the hallway, they surely heard this.  They’re surely hearing all of this. 

Why didn’t Grisly shut the door?  If he shut the door, his audience would shrink dramatically, at least until someone reviewed the tapes later. 

It takes her a second to place the delight in his eyes and then it hits her that he didn’t expect to see her here. 

“This is better than I could have imagined though,” Grisly laughs the low, polite laugh of someone making an inappropriate joke behind their boss’s back, “I thought Hiccup would get out on bail and I’d catch you two together with that idiot Jorgenson and clean up all my loose ends at once, getting a judge fired in the process.”  He sighs, wistful for the plot twist he predicted that didn’t quite work out, “but this…to find Astrid here right when I came to dispose of you, to hear you admit your feelings not knowing you were about to watch her die…” 

Die.  The word seems so passive that Astrid can’t imagine it having anything to do with her.  Especially with the way Grisly is looking at her like an object, a prop that couldn’t have any life to give to anything other than his dastardly scheme. 

And Hiccup is quiet, quiet like he never is, quiet like he’s already given up. 

Something her Uncle Finn always used to say flashes through her head, his too serious words for coaching a children’s baseball team taking on new meaning. 

Stunned silence is an enemy’s greatest weapon. 

When she flips her grip on the umbrella in her hands and swings it hard, it’s more dangerous than Grisly’s knife because he doesn’t expect it.  Because he expected her to stand there and quiver or beg or bargain instead of follow the righteous bolt of anger telling her to take this into her own hands. 

The center pole of the umbrella hits across the bridge of his nose with a crunch and a clatter as he drops his knife.  He moves faster than she thinks he will, batting the umbrella away from his face and fumbling for the blade. 

That puts his face at the perfect height to knee him in his already bleeding nose as she tries to straighten out the umbrella to hit him again.  The first hit broke it, apparently, and she settles for thrusting the handle against his chest as soon as he tries to stand, the blow knocking him off balance and sending him stumbling back through the still open door. 

His back hits the opposite wall and his hat falls off, revealing rumpled white hair that makes the blood gushing from his nose look more vital, like he’s losing something he can’t live without.  He tries to stand up and she moves to hit him again, an involuntary noise of disgust leaking out when he flinches away, looking for the exit he hasn’t given anyone else. 

The door at the end of the hallway flies open and Eretson appears, gun in hand, flanked by two officers uniformed in standard Berk PD blue. 

Astrid drops the umbrella and holds up shaking hands, taking a step back from Grisly’s defeated form and pointing at a camera on the ceiling. 

“He…he left the door open, I bet—I bet this is all on film, he wasn’t expecting, well…me.”  She looks at the broken umbrella and the stain on the knee of her jeans before glancing back at Grisly’s already swollen features, sharp edges gone soft with loss of sick control.  “He confessed.” 

“And he trash-talked a judge,” Hiccup adds from behind her, voice meek and hollow, “which I don’t think helps.” 

“Usually doesn’t help,” Astrid agrees, heart fluttering too fast as she watches a cop slide handcuffs around Grisly’s wrists.  He slumps under the weight of them, nose dripping on the floor as he trudges down the hall, a leashed lion on the way back to his cage. 

Eretson doesn’t ask how she got in or how she’s doing or where the knife near the gate of Hiccup’s cell came from.  He sighs, either too professional to show his relief or too tired to feel it, before instructing the other officer with him to take them to an interrogation room while he goes to get a copy of the security footage before anyone else can get to it. 

When he comes back and announces that a second NWF agent is in custody for trying to erase the footage seconds after Eretson’s download was complete, Astrid feels like she can breathe for the first time since she concerned herself with why Elizabeth Smith stopped. 

[honeymoonjin]

Chapter Ten

Summary: When you hear that your recently deceased grandmother left you her property in her will, at first you think that a dinky old cottage in the middle of nowhere isn’t going to mean much for you. But after spending a night there, you discover something far more valuable than the house itself: a hidden door that leads to another time, the same place but over 200 years in the past. In the late 18th Century, there is a king who will die before his 21st birthday unless you can save him. Will you help him, even if it means leaving your own life behind?

--

In the end, you had to promise that you'd stay a night in the castle before he agreed to stay out of the water. King Jeon tried to talk with you, joke with you, but your mind was whirring.

It didn't make any sense to you. Perhaps that just so happened to be a common turn of phrase in this century - "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse" - but it seemed unlikely. How was it, then, that a man apparently from this time knew a modern-day movie quote?

"Come on, I didn't invite you here to sit all glum like that. What's the matter, my sweet maiden? I would think you'd be happy since you managed to take away all the joy from this trip like you wanted."

Your eyes flicker up to the young man as he stands above you, blocking out the sun. You were shivering and probably looked less attractive than a wet sewer rat, curled up on a rough-hewn picnic blanket. He stood in front of you, practically glistening like a Greek God, looking perfect as always. It made you even more bitter than you already were. "Excuse me for wanting to protect my King. It's not like it's my job or anything."

He scoffs, turning his face away from you in disbelief. "You know, I didn't bring you here expecting that you'd ruin all my fun."

"No. It seems you were expecting me to take all my clothes off and freeze to death in the water." In the near distance, further around the edge of the lake, his guard shot you a warning glare. That man had impeccable hearing, it seemed, and you frowned pettily at the way he shook his head at you, barely focussing on the fishing rod he was working on with the other soldiers. Maybe you should be speaking more politely to the ruler, but you could barely speak at all with your lips going numb and your mind whirring at an alarming pace, trying to work out what exactly was going on.

The man standing in front of you shrugs, runs a hand through his dark locks to squeeze some more water out, and moves to sit beside you. You jump at the sudden proximity of his skin on yours, but the way his arms have somehow been warmed in the sun is a welcome relief to your clammy, goosebump-covered flesh. "There we go," he says simply, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders, "I do believe you're so grouchy because you're cold. Perhaps your vital organs are shutting down and your brain is too frozen to see reason. Surely there's no other explanation for why you'd be so rude to your King, hmm?"

You resist the urge to glare at him, too grateful for the warmth he provides. "Sure." You fix him with a curious stare. "How did Jin become your healer?"

He looks down at you, eyelashes clumped into stars that frame his glittering eyes. You become a little lost in those depths, unable to tear your gaze away. "He approached me one day," he answers simply. "A long time ago, when I was barely thirteen. I had technically been King for several months at that point after my mother... passed away, and he told me every good leader needed a man to look out for his health. 'What if danger befalls you suddenly, and you do not have time to seek out a shaman or a healer from his home? A kingdom cannot afford to lose it's ruler so easily.' So, I gave him a place to stay, and he's been loyal to me ever since. In many ways, he raised me. I don't have any family, you know."

Suddenly, your conspiracy theorizing seems far-fetched. "I didn't know that," you answer quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Ah," he dismisses, "we all have our origins. As painful as they might be, they make us who we are today. They give us wings to fly. I do believe I wouldn't be half the ruler I am today without his guidance." King Jeon lifts his gaze to the edge of the water, where the leather-clad guard squeals at a flopping fish his companion waves in his face. "Seokjin and Hoseok. Those two... I owe them everything. It's not easy being where I am. Some days I wish I wasn't at the center of my own universe, you know?"

You think of your own adventures; how much strife they've caused you. The strain on your relationship with Jimin that never existed before, the pressure to impact history itself. "I get that," you reply honestly. "I don't think you should be so hard on yourself. You have two men who love you, and a kingdom of people who are grateful for your reign. All you can do is count your blessings and take things one day at a time."

He laughs lightly out his nose, patting your shoulder absentmindedly. "You, my kind healer, seem to be wise beyond your years. Why is that?"

You hide a grin. If only you knew. "I'll take that as a compliment, I suppose." You can barely stand the way he looks at you now. Like nothing in the universe exists. Like he's watching the sun rise. You break the stare and pick at the tufts of fabric on the felt blanket. "Your Highness, I want to thank you again for letting me work for you. I... I can't really explain, but it's very important to me. So I appreciate it."

He hums, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you, as much as you stubbornly try to avoid it. "Y/n. Look at me." You glance up quickly and then drop your eyes back down. "That's a royal decree, little madam."

"Okay, fine. But it's not fair that you get to whip out your privileges every time you want something."

He chuckles at you, eyes crinkling in the corners, and you force yourself to keep looking at him as ordered. The you one week ago would only want Jimin to look at you like this, not a random stranger like King Jeon was. The you a week ago would never have this weird feeling in her stomach every time she looked at someone other than Jimin. "Y/n," he repeats, and you can't help but wish he'd say it one more time, "when we're like this, just us two... You don't have to call me Your Highness. Call me Jungkook."

Your eyes widen slightly. You'd never even thought to wonder what his first name is, you realize. Jungkook. It fits him. "Jungkook," you recite experimentally, heart leaping at the bright grin he gives you as a reward.

"Fine, then," he says loudly, breaking the intimate moment between you two, and catching the attention of the other men at the same time, "you've worn me down, you cruel mistress. I suppose we'll head back now, after all. Perhaps our next outing can be somewhere with a little less water, hm?"

A cold shiver runs down your spine when he breaks away from you to stand up, but you mask the odd streak of disappointment with a smile. "Sure."

--

"Woah, this is so exciting! You're basically royalty, Y/n!"

You let out a hearty chuckle at Taehyung's enthusiasm. "Not really." The two of you were in a lushly decorated but fairly small bedroom, the same one you had found yourself in before, when Taehyung had locked you in it. You were glad that this time you were here on your own free will. "Yoongi got the message?"

"Yeah, he's there now. I can't believe you let him go to the future instead of me, Y/n. It's heartbreaking."

Not the most ideal of situations, you had requested that Yoongi sneak through the doorway to your time with the express purpose of sending a text to Jimin that you were sick, and that he at no costs could come out to visit you. Hopefully it would keep him away overnight while you were gone, and you were desperately hoping Yoongi didn't get up to too much mischief while he was there. "Yoongi promised me he'd go straight there and back, no detours. You can't tell me that if you really traveled two hundred and fifty years into the future that you would be able to resist the temptation to explore?"

The boy purses his lips, then lowers his shoulders in defeat with a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, fine, you're right. Maybe one day?"

You can't resist those puppy eyes. "Maybe," you allow. "If I can figure out who the hell is trying to kill the King."

"Oh, yeah!" he gasps, throwing himself into a heap on the bed with a squeak of the springs. "Did you save his life again?"

"That's the thing," you say with a frown, joining him with less energy, "nothing happened. I mean, I did make sure he never really went properly swimming in the first place, so perhaps he really just would've drowned on pure accident, but... I really can't work out what's going on. I had a suspicion, but I'm not so sure."

"Well, what's your suspicion? My lips are sealed, I swear!" You aren't so certain as to the validity of that comment, but you have faith that the only person he'll blab to is the one man who's already in on it.

"Fine. I was thinking it was Jin. Think about it," you protest when he opens his mouth to question it, "nothing happened today, but Jin wasn't there. If it wasn't for me being invited, he would've gone along, and maybe Jung- King Jeon would've drowned because I wasn't there to stop him swimming."

Taehyung frowns, and scoots further up the bed to cross his legs. "It just seems like you don't think Jin is a very good healer. Which, honestly, sure. That could be true. But..." he breaks off into a sigh. "Listen, I so wish this was exciting and dramatic, and there were murder attempts and stuff. But maybe the King's life is at risk purely because we aren't as evolved as you. Maybe there's no ill intention. Maybe this is just the way it is." His eyes lower, and the corner of his mouth sinks. "I've been thinking a lot. About the inevitability of fate. What if we're messing with something that should never be messed with? What if all of this is futile?"

Your nose twitches, eyes stinging slightly. "I don't want to think about that. I need to save him. Someone I love very much will die if I don't. At least, I'm pretty sure that's how this works. Fuck, I wish time traveling came with a manual. This is a nightmare."

He smiles softly at you, and silently leans in to snake his arms around your middle and give you a hug. You blink tears away and pat his back awkwardly, grateful for the contact. When he hears a sniffle, he tightens his grip. "Don't cry," he mutters into your shirt, "everything will be okay. Even if  the King still dies, I'm happy that you came here. For the first time in my life, I have a friend."

"Yoongi's your friend," you answer reflexively.

"Yoongi turned me into a pig. He tolerates me on good days."

You grin, wrapping your arms around him and returning the hug. "Then I guess that makes us best friends. I'm glad you're here, Taehyung. I'm glad I met you."

His grip gets impossibly tight. "Me too."

--

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[thebrotherscupheadandmugman]

Floral Fury! With Cagney Carnation!

Before you read: This is a rewriting of the main game Cuphead. Characters, certain dialogue, music, and locations obviously do not belong to me. This is best read with the OST playing over it. And before you start reading, remember that anything on this blog that is tagged as “Word on the Wind” can be reblogged and shared! That being said, enjoy!

Blogs with Cagney Carnation as a muse: @twocupsandacontract​ @txtaldomination

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Today's episode opens up in a meadow positively blooming with wildflowers. Daisies, lavenders, carnations, lilies, and golden rods filled the plain in abundance, reaching from the edge of the forest all the way to the end of the cliff, where Isle One met the ocean between itself and Isle Two.

Many, many years ago, a gentle breeze blew across the flowers, the wind lovingly and gently growing hands to gather fistfuls of pollen before giving them a good sniff. The wind truly loved the fresh scent of wildflowers in the morning, even if the poor thing had a terrible case of hay fever. After dramatic huff and then a puff, the wind sneezed, scattering and spreading the pollen across the meadow. Ah, the joy and wonder of spring. Truly, this was peace.

Suddenly, two young boys, different from our heroes, ran into the meadow, frolicking and playing in the flower field. The boys were roughhousing and play-fighting with each other, and knowingly or not, they were crushing and trampling the wildflowers as they did, until the younger of the two grew tired, and flopped over on his back next to the other as he panted and laughed, crushing more flowers as he did so. After a few moments, that same kid caught sight of what had to be the world's most beautiful flower. “Woah! Hey, look at that!!” He pointed. “Wowza! It's huge!” “What kind of flower is it do ya think?” “I dunno. I'm not as good as Mom.” “Ooh! Mom would love it! We should take it back to her!” “You're right! We could make it into a corsage, just like she taught us!” “Yeah! Let's take it!” The two boys smiled before reaching out a hand and plucked the flower from the earth, then left the meadow, abandoning the destruction they caused. What flowers that weren't crushed were drooping in sadness, almost as if they knew that they had been powerless to do anything to prevent this.

“Oh my! What a beautiful carnation!” Mother exclaimed, turning over the home-made corsage in her hands. “Happy Mother's day, Mom!” The two boys beamed. “Oh, thank you boys! It'll match perfectly with my outfit for tonight! You're such thoughtful boys!” “We made it ourselves!” “It's too perfect to sell in the shop! Thank you both. I love it!” Mother cooed, bending down to hug her children.

Later that night, Mother and Father had gone to the Devil's Casino, and unfortunately had pushed their luck too far, and lost everything. The Devil sat in his throne room, counting the valuables he and King Dice had managed to swindle that day. It was almost hilarious what some people would bet in desperation to win back what they lost. Engagement rings, racing horses, broaches...their souls. How amusing for the Devil. However, the Devil sensed a strong aura of...anger. Anger, hate, resentment, but most importantly, a thirst for vengeance. His attention was directed to a poorly made corsage in his pile of winnings- specifically the flower it was made with.

The poor, pitiful pansy was the source of all these delicious emotions, and the Devil knew just what to do with it.

“Well, what do we have here?” He cackled lowly, putting out the cigar in his mouth so as to not burn the flower. “A poor, angry soul wanting revenge? Could it be for the woman who bet you away? Or is it maybe for whoever turned you into such an ugly, childish accessory?” The Devil sneered. “I bet you used to be beautiful. A vibrant flower that once stood tall with pride, basking in the glorious sunlight, eh?” It almost seemed like the carnation perked up at that, as if there were some truth to those words. “But not anymore. Now the only thing you feel is a lust for justice.” The carnation's leaves crossed over each other, resembling crossed arms. “I can help you with that.” The Devil offered, positive he had the soul's attention. “I can make you strong. Strong enough to defeat any foe. Strong enough to stop any fink from walking all over you. Strong enough...to get the justice you want and deserve...” He suggested with a toothy grin. With the snap of his clawed fingers, a contract appeared next to the Devil. “Just sign this, and all that is yours.” He set the flower down next to the inkwell and quill. “Although...perhaps we should give you a name for you to sign. That is the only way I can allow this to work.” The flower picked up the quill with both of its leaves, and scribbled something down on a spare sheet of paper that happened to be on the desk as well. The Devil read what he wrote and smirked with a low chuckle. “Alright then.” He snapped his fingers again, and the contract changed. He grabbed it from the air, and set it on the desk for the other to sign. “From this day forward, you will be known as 'Cagney Carnation'. And you will be the strongest flower in all of Inkwell Isle.” Cagney dipped the quill back into the inkwell, letting the excess ink drip off into the bottle as he signed. “Excellent...” The Devil cackled lowly before snapping his fingers. The flower suddenly doubled over in pain as the Devil used black magic to fling him away from his desk and on the floor. He watched as the other began to grow in size and mass, becoming bigger, badder, stronger, yet still so beautiful. “Now go, Cagney. Go out and get your revenge.” He grinned as he admired his own handy work. Once the plant was finished transforming, he nodded and left. “I'll be back to collect what's mine afterwards.” The Devil cackled once more as Cagney left, taking his Soul Contract with him.

“Cuphead, this is a bad idea...” Mugman said, tugging his straw down to his mouth. “Waddya talkin' about Mugsy? Where's your sense of adventure?!” Cuphead asked, turning around to face his older brother. “Hey! Leave yer straw alone! Don't start chewin' it already, okay?” Mugman let go of his straw, letting it slide back to it's usual spot in his head. “I wasn't gonna- that's not important! I don't think we have time to be snooping around in there!” “Look, I'm tellin' ya, Mug! I heard somethin' in there!” “That's not comforting!!” Mugs whined, already getting worked up at the thought of his brother going inside that stone graveyard. “The only things in a mausoleum are graves, ghosts, and spiders! A-and only one of those would be able to make noise!” “No, those are the only things that are supposed to be in a mausoleum.” Cuphead turned back to face the mausoleum, the old building towering over the boys seemed to almost be haunting for Mugman. Cups didn't seemed to be too bothered by it however. “Who's to say someone didn't wander in and get lost?” The younger turned back to face Mugs. “And what if it's some grave robber or somethin'? Someone's gotta teach 'em a lesson!” “How about you learn your lesson first? Seriously, Cuphead! We're on a time limit! We shouldn't waste it messing around in a grave yard!” “Investigating! Not just messin' around! And besides! Dontchya wanna test out that new weapon you got at Porkrind's?” Mugs opened his mouth to counter-argue but was cut off before he could say anything. “Would you two mind taking this elsewhere?! You're spookin' the fish!” “Look Mug, I'm goin' in. I gotta figure out what made that noise.” Cup said before marching inside the mausoleum. “Ugh! Fine! If you wanna go in, suit yourself! But I'm staying out here where it's safe!” Mugman huffed, causing the milk in his head to bubble as he turned his back towards Cuphead with crossed arms.

A few moments passed, and Mugman had already began to fidget anxiously. What if something happened to Cuphead while he was in there? It didn't take very long at all before he began to tap his foot on the ground. He glanced over his shoulder, back at the entrance, the haunting aura got him to start biting his lip. He let out a soft whine as he started pacing in place for a moment or two, before Mug finally gave in and rushed in after his brother. “Cuphead, wait up!!”

The brothers roamed the halls of the mausoleum listening very carefully to the sounds around them. Well, rather Cuphead was, Mugman was too busy staying as close behind his brother as he could, both of his white, gloved hands clamping down onto his little brother's shoulders. The poor boy was frightened beyond belief, and before long he was trembling with fear, causing his ceramic body to make quiet klinking noises. “Mug, stop shakin' so much! I can't hear anything but you!” Cuphead hushed. “W-w-well th-then w-we should just g-g-get going! Th-this place is g-givin' m-me th-the h-h-heebie-jeebies!” Cup suddenly turned his head in the direction of a room not too far away. “Wait, didja hear that?” “D-d-does it matter?! Th-the only things in here are spooks, spiders, and skeletons! Let's just go, o-okay?!” Mugman begged, trying to pull his brother back outside. “No wait, I think I heard someone say help!” Cuphead justified, moving closer. Mugman paused for a moment to listen closely.

For a while, he heard nothing, but after a moment both the boys heard something different. “Help!” Cup heard. “Get lost! You hear me?! This tomb is only for the eerie!” Mugs began to whimper and whine as he continued to tug his brother's arm in an attempt to get out. “Mug, we can't leave now! Someone actually needs our help! Gramps would want us to help 'em any way we could!” Cuphead quickly dashed off towards the voice. “C-C-Cuphead!! D-d-don't l-l-leave me!!” His brother cried, scrambling after him.

“Help!” A female voice cried from inside the room, even Mugman was able to hear it after the two ran in. The only light that could be seen filtered in from a stain-glassed window, and in the dead center of the room lied a stone altar with a stone urn on top to match. “Cuphead, you weren't kidding! It sounds like it's coming from inside the urn.” Mugman rushed over to the altar, and put his hands on the vase. He didn't quite want to open it, seeing as it'd be rather disrespectful to whoever's ashes were inside, but if someone was trapped inside, surely that'd justify his actions? “Are ya trapped in that?” Cup asked, pointing to the stone pot. “Is someone there? Oh goodness me, please help me out of here! Hurry! Before they come back!” “Before wh-who comes back, exactly?” Mugman asked as he tried to pull the lid off, but it wouldn't move, so he jumped up on the sacred stone table for a better reach.

Suddenly, organ music began to play, and the boys scanned the room for the source before they started to hear voices. “Woooooo!” “Wuh-oh...” “Wh-what was that?!” Mugman stammered. “It's too late, I'm afraid! Here comes a spooky bunch!” The woman informed as two pink ghosts floated down towards the urn. “Ahh! A ghost!!” “Please, I beg of you! Don't let the Specter Syndicate reach the urn before I'm freed! Keep them away by any means necessary!” Mugman began to pull desperately on the top, but it refused to budge. “Cuphead, do something!!” Cuphead began to shoot, but the bullets simply phased right through the spirit. “They're immune ta bullets?!” “They're getting closer!!” Mug warned desperately. “What am I supposed to do?!” “They're pink! Try slapping them before they get any closer, Cuuuups!!” Mugman spoke very quickly out of fear, huddling closer to the stubborn urn to try and get away from the spooks. Cuphead's straw popped out to form an exclamation point in realization, and he rushed closer to the ghosts and jumped up. The end of his straw closed up and formed a gloved hand as he parry slapped one of the ghosts and bounced off to parry the other. Mugs pried one eye open to look as Cuphead successfully defeated the two specters. “Whew.” Before the boys could rest, another pink apparition began to soar down towards them once again. “It's back!!” “You get that thing open! I'll keep them off ya!!” “G-got it!” Mugman nodded, going back to his attempts to pry off the lid of the urn as Cuphead parried the new ghost.

Two more chased after them. Then two more. Then three. Cuphead managed to parry them all with ease, but couldn't help but grow impatient. “C'mon, Mugs!” “I-I'm trying! I-it won't come off!” Cuphead parried yet another ghost. “Well try something else!” Two more ghosts revealed themselves, and Cuphead jumped up to take them out. Mugman looked around for something to use and spotted a chunk of stone on the ground that must have fallen off the altar years ago. He took his straw out of his head and pushed it closer to himself so he could reach it, then placed it between the lid and the urn. “Let's try this.” Cuphead continued to parry slap the ghosts, as two more appeared before them. “Mugs?!” “Hang on!” Mugman wiggled the stone back and forth to try to open the vase. Cuphead parried two more ghosts as one wearing a hat drew closer to Mugman and the urn without them noticing, up until Mug could hear its laughter right above him. “Ah! C-Cuphead!!” The younger turned around and hurled himself on top of the altar, jumped up, and just barely managed to parry the spirit before it got too close, it's hat falling into Mugman's head with a splash! “Ugh, it fell in my head!” “Fish it out later! Get that thing open before we're overrun!” Mugman nodded and continued to use the rock to pry the vase open. “Come on...” Cuphead slapped another ghost out of existence. “Come on!” Snap! The stone suddenly broke in two. “Son of a gun!” Another spirit was parried, and Mugman began to pull and tug at the lid once more with his hands. “I almost got it!!” “I will not let you open that magic urn! I am the ghost of the- aahh!” Cuphead parried the ghost before he could finish, and before anymore could appear, the lid finally popped off and sent Mugman tumbling onto his back. “Oof!”

A glowing, blue spectral orb came out from the urn, before gliding about two feet to the right of the alter Mug was on. The orb slowly began to shift and change to form a ghostly grail. The spirit appeared as a female, two-handled golden cup with a golden straw halo, faded red lipstick, and a beauty mark under her right eye, and unlike the pink spooks from before, her spectral body was a light blue. “Gosh, I don't know how to thank you boys for saving me!” She appraised. “Aw shucks, it was nothing!” Cuphead boasted, getting a glare from his older brother. “Ah! Where are my manners? I didn't even introduce myself!” The ghost realized. “I am known as the Legendary Chalice, pleased to meet you.” “Likewise, Miss Legendary Chalice.” Mugman replied politely, raising a giggle out of the spirit. “You can call me Chalice if you'd like.” “Um, okay, but if you, uh, don't mind me asking, how did you get trapped in there?” “Yeah, can't ghosts walk through walls and stuff?” Cuphead asked boldly. “Cup! Don't be rude!” “Oh, goodness me, I don't mind! I was searching for magic and got trapped by those ghosts! Speaking of which...” Chalice reached inside the urn and withdrew two coin-like medals from within. “Please accept this gift,” she handed the medals over to the cups, “it should help!” “What is it?” Mug asked, examining the coin as he turned it over in his fingers. The medal looked absolutely ancient, with a faded emblem of some kind that seemed to be a shield with some sort of top-hat-like lid, and two ovals both upper sides of the shield. There was some sort of banner near the bottom of the shield, and it was evident that something was supposed to be written on it, but most of the words had lost the fight against erosion. He flipped it over again, noticing how the other side was simply 'I,' which he recognized as the Roman Numeral one. “It's a magical Super Art that will give you the most remarkable magical abilities! It connects magic to your souls, and when your Super Meter is filled, and your soul is pushed to its limit, a magical attack can be unleashed, at least if this is the one I'm thinking of. Put it in your heads to be able to actually use it, but when the time comes, you'll know exactly just what to do!” “Woah, neat!!” Cuphead gasped. “Wait, there's more of them?” “Oh, yes! Many more throughout Inkwell Isle. Legends say they're commonly buried with the deceased. Speaking of...” Chalice looked to the side, seemingly lost in thought. “There are other Mausoleums around Inkwell Isle, I just wonder...”

Mugman glanced at his watch, quickly remembering what they were supposed to be doing. “Oh good gosh! We'd better get going, we're in a bit of a hurry. It was nice meeting you Chalice! Take care!” Mugs pardoned, ushering his little brother out of the tomb. “Likewise! May we meet again!” “Let's hope it ain't under th'same circumstances!” Cuphead called out.

The brothers walked a distance away from the Mausoleum before they started talking about their next move so that the fish lady from earlier wouldn't get mad at them again. “Where to next?” Cup asked, stretching his arms behind his head. “I'm reading.” Mugs huffed, annoyed by his brother's impatience. “We have Psycarrot's, got Moe's, Hilda Burg-!” Mug's eyes widened as he read the next name to himself, jolting out of pure shock, as his straw popped out of his head would indicate. He slowly looked over to his brother, an almost pained expression on his face. “What?” “Cagney's on here.” Cuphead's eyes widened, his confident and relaxed stance became much less relaxed within an instant. “Carnation?” “Do you know any other Cagney's?!” The brothers knew who Cagney Carnation was. Long before they met him, in fact.

At school, everyone had warned about the wrath of Old Man Cagney, and how dangerous and violent the flower was. Whispers on the playground always dictated that he once killed a boy who wandered into his meadow, and other rumors say he once ate a girl before...But the boys always knew those were just stories. Well, perhaps not always. When the boys were first staring to walk to and from school by themselves, Cuphead had wandered to Cagney's meadow after growing bored waiting for Mugman. Once Mugman found him, he had been sitting outside of the small, yet ever-growing flower patch, simply talking to the friendly flower. After Mug had retrieved his baby brother, and realized he had no clue how to get back home from there, it was Cagney that clued him in on a shortcut that'd get them home quicker than they'd ever would had they taken the route Elder Kettle taught them. Ever since then, the boys had seen Cagney on the way to school every morning, and on the way home every afternoon. They never talked much, but they'd always seen and waved to each other in passing.

But now their friend was a debtor. Someone they had to fight. This was more than just a name they had to confront, this was someone they knew and saw frequently! The brothers looked at each other, saddened by the inevitable battle ahead. “Well,” Mugman started, trying to find some shred of optimism in this whole scenario, “at least we know where to find him.” “Yeah...Let's get goin' then.”

The brothers approached the flower from behind, careful not to step on his well cared for garden. They could see the sweet-looking flower bent over, tending to one of the flowers with love and great care. He was unaware of their presence. Mug clasped onto his right forearm nervously as the boys looked at each other. Cuphead was more than ready to fight if he had to, but he knew Mugman didn't want to fight in the slightest. He was going to try and solve this peacefully, for his brother's sake. “Ahem,” Cuphead cleared his throat to get Cagney's attention. “Huh?” Cagney turned around, revealing his sweet and gentle face with orange blush that matched his pedals and stood out on his yellow face. “Oh! Boys! Odd to see you on a Saturday.” “Hey, Cagney.” Cuphead waved with a convincing smile. “What brings you two out here? You don't usually go outta your way to talk to little ole me!” “We actually did just wanna talk to ya this time. We haven't really talked much since the day we met.” So far so good. “Aw, really? That's mighty sweet of ya, fellas! Lemme get something for you guys to stand on so you don't hurt the flowers.” Cagney smiled, and with a wave of his left leaf, three toadstool-patterned platforms propelled themselves above the garden. “What did you wanna talk about?” Mugman looked over at his younger brother nervously again. There was no way around getting the other's contract, and thanks to their little field trip, they didn't have the time to be beating around the bush. “Um...” “Uh, it's um...” Mugman tried, but how could he bring this up delicately? Cagney noticed the look of distress that the brothers shared, “Is something bothering you?” He asked. “We...need...” “There's no easy way to say it. And you might not believe us if we were to just ask ya.” Cuphead pulled out the Devil's parchment from his pocket, and unrolled the list as far as he had to, just so the carnation could see his own name on the list. “We need your Soul Contract.” Cagney looked on in horror, staring at his name on the list titled 'Debtors' in the Devil's handwriting. Cagney knew it wasn't a joke. “I...Well...one thing's for certain. I'm not going down without a fight!” “Cagney, please, we don't want to fight you!” Mugs begged. “This is my very soul we're talking about! Without it, I can't protect them!! I can't do anything! Without it, the only thing I have is Hellfire!! You think I'm just gonna give that to ya?! No!!” “Wait, Cagney, we need that contract! The Devil will come after us if we don't get it!” “Well then, if it's a fight you want, then it's a fight you've got!!” Cagney grabbed his chin, and pulled, voice dropping low as he let out a loud growl, sticking his tongue out and flecking slobber at the boys.

In that instant, Cagney's leaves turned to hands, his stem formed thorns, and his large, sharp, pointed nose grew longer as his blush disappeared, and his eyes grew as wide as the menacing smile on his face as he glared down at the boys. His arms circled down to cover his stem, defensively changing positions as he moved them up and down. Cuphead looked back at Mugman for a moment, sorry that he couldn't convince the flower otherwise, but he turned back around to face Cagney when he heard the sound of a squeaky handle turning, followed by some sort of rapid-fire gun. Cagney's head had morphed to resemble a Gatling Gun and shortly after, blue, pink, and purple seeds fell down from above. “Mug, jump up!!” The brothers hopped atop the toadstool-like platforms, avoiding the seeds that simply landed in the dirt below. “Ha! Ya missed!” Suddenly, vines sprouted up from below, releasing various versions of Toothy Terrors. Some flew towards them, while another threatened them from below, but the most notable one was the orange-spotted one that hovered above them, spitting out seeds from its mouth. “I don't think he was aiming for us, Cup!!” Mugman screamed, focusing so much on dodging that he forgot to actually shoot. Cuphead on the other end, didn't waste much time, and with a snap snap snap, he fired his magic blue bullets at Cagney. Mugs had been moving around so much that it hadn't taken him long to take one misstep right off the platform, and back onto the ground. “Ouch!” “Careful! Don't hurt them!!” Cagney snarled, moving back as his petals curled in to conceal his face before his arms and face lunged out, stretching as far as Mugman was on the ground. “Gyah!” Mugs rolled backwards as he was whacked by the flower. “I-I'm sorry, no need to bark at me!!” Cagney moved back, turning into a Gatling Gun once again to plant more seeds to fight them with. This time Cup noticed they shot out from his nose, “Eww! Snot seeds!!” Mugman quickly rolled over to get away from the attacks, climbing back to his feet as he quickly assessed the situation. He jumped up onto the second platform in front his brother, and began firing at the orange flying flower above them.

However, with his new weapon equipped, the green bullet just barely missed what he was aiming for, and circled down, hitting the black toothy terror on the ground below. “What was that?!” “Right, I forgot I bought the Roundabouts!” “Wuh-oh!” Cuphead pointed back to their opponent, who'd was ready again to lunge out at them. “Get down!!” The brothers jumped down onto the ground, but Mugman continued to fire up, watching as Cagney just barely missed them, only to be hit by the circling green bullets again. “Ouch! That actually hurt you little--” “Cagney, why are you attacking us?!” Mugman tried, playing the innocent card in the hopes that Cagney would stop fighting. “Why?! Call it discipline!” Well that response certainly caused Mugman to drop the act, utterly confused. “Discipline? Why?” “I dunno? Ya needed it?!” The flower shouted with a shrug, before suddenly clapping his hands shut, as if he were about to perform a magic trick. The brothers hopped back onto the platforms, mostly just to see what Cagney was trying to do, but once Cagney opened his leafy hands, a white and blue sycamore seed flew out at Cuphead and Mugman. “Jump!” Cuphead called, thankfully just in time for his brother to react and dodge. Cagney clasped his hands shut again, and upon opening them this time, he sent three acorns flying out at them. “Fools who attempt to fight this will leave with allergic rhinitis!” “Aah!!” Mugman began firing rapidly, facing away from Cagney as he focused more on dodging, all while his green bullets circled about and hit Cagney. “Ouch! Ow! Ow! Raaagh!!” Cagney growled before pulling his pedals in frustration, then he shoved his hands into the dirt as he began to change once again, his stem growing more vine-like, and his whole being growing larger with the help of the rich soil he absorbed through his leaves. His nose grew longer, his eyes grew larger, and more maniacal as he bared his now sharp and jagged teeth. “Ahahahahahaha!! Where ya going, Mugman?! Trying to leaf already?! Hahahahaha!! Ahahahahahah!! Don't make me out to be the root of this battle!! Hehehehehahaha!!” Cagney's vines covered the ground below before wrapping up and around the farthest platform that Mug had been jumping to. “Ahh!!” Mug kicked himself away from the vine, back-flipping onto the middle platform. “Uh, C-C-Cuphead?!” The brothers stood, back to back, both firing at Cagney as much as they could, Mugman using the green Roundabout bullets to hit him without even facing him. “You're the smart one!!” “I-I know, lemme think!! Um, I'll focus on what's behind us! You-” “Look out!!” Cuphead jumped up, but Mugman turned around for a second before getting hit in the chest by a white dandelion. “Ahh!” Mug started to fall forward, but Cuphead landed just in time to grab him by his arm, keeping his older brother from falling onto their friend's prickly vines, spilling the milk inside his head just a bit. “Ahahahah!! Extreme pollination and total domination! Hahahah! Ahahahaha!!” Cuphead pulled his brother up, and Mugs quickly noticed that vines surrounded the platform at their feet, threatening to engulf it and ensnare the brothers where they stood. “Move, Cuppy, move!!” Mugman dashed off and onto the next platform, using the Smoke Bomb just for good measure. Cuphead however, wasn't quite able to react quick enough, and within seconds the boy was completely entangled in thorny vines. “Ah!” Cuphead tried to fight his way out, but the vines only pressed tighter forcing the thorns through his shirt, and into his porcelain flesh. “Ugh!! Ouch, stop tha-ow ow!!” Cuphead tried to fight through the pain, pointing his finger past his brother, who'd already been watching in horror as his trapped baby brother struggled, and straight at Cagney. A stray vine latched onto Cuphead's forearm and forced it back. “M-Mug! Do s-something! I-I can- ow!!” “C-Cuphead!!” “Aww, what's wrong, boy?! Is someone at school being a real thorn in your side?! Ahahahaha!!” “Mug! T-take him down! Worry about me la-ow!! Later!!” Mugman turned around to face Cagney, his legs shaking like jelly underneath the rest of him. He hadn't even realized he'd begun to chew on his straw out of nerves. “C-C-Cagney, please!! W-we don't wanna hurt anyone!!” “You're only saying that, because you're a scared, little, pansy!!” That seemed to strike a nerve for Mugman. “I-I am not a pansy!!” “M-Mugs, please! J-just fight him back!! Aahh!!” “Cry out all you want, you sinner!! He's not gonna do anything, because he's far too much of a pansy!!” “I am not a pansy!!” Mugman suddenly gained his nerve, and took a large gulp of the milk from his head through his straw before he took a deep breath and released an Ex Move. A green ball shot out at the carnation, soaring until it hit him once, then came back towards Mugman. “Woah!!” Mugman jumped over the orb, letting the bullet sail under him, then back over to hit Cagney. “Ah!” Like a boomerang, the shot hurdled back towards the older brother, Mugman jumped up to avoid it once again, then again so it would hit Cagney until he finally loosened his grip on his little brother. “Cuphead!!” Mugman jumped over to his baby brother, trying to make sure he hadn't gotten hurt. “Are you okay?” “I'm fine, I'm fine!” The brothers looked back at Cagney, “Just give it up now, Cagney!” “Raaaahhh! Give up?! You want me to just roll over and give up?! I have been working for decades trying to regain what was lost, and I will not! Let two! More! Stupid! Brats! Ruin all of it again! I won't let anyone hurt them again! I won't, I won't, I won't! Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!” “Man, what is with this guy?” “Now's not the time for one-liners, Cuphead!!” “You gotta plan?” “I think. Do you have a Super built?” “Yeah?” “Then I'll distract him!” Mugman stood up once again, “Hey, Cagney!!” He pulled down the lower lid of his eye, giving the carnation a dirty look before blowing a raspberry. “Ppppttbhthtbthbt!!” “Why you little blue brat!!” Cagney spat out another dandelion at the brother, Mugman dashing off to the third platform as he shot his green bullets. Cuphead dug out the coin from the depths of his right pocket that Chalice had given him earlier. In once swift motion, he flipped the coin with his thumb, catching it in his head, and he could suddenly feel a great power building inside him from the soul out. “Woo!!” It was almost as if instinct took over, Cuphead stood tall, facing the enemy head on. A wide, confident smirk grew over his face, before he suddenly jumped up, pointing his head towards Cagney. “Fear the taste of milk, you weed!!” The milk in the cup's head suddenly launched out with a mighty blast, putting the hurt on the large flower. “Urrgh, aaahh! Urrraaaahhh!!” Cagney screamed in pain, facing the sky as his eyes went hollow. “Cagney!!” Mugman called, fearing they killed him by mistake. As the brothers ran up to the carnation, he fell back against the tree he was in front of. He took a few moments to breathe, then closed his eyes. “Cagney, no! Please!!” The carnation opened his eyes once again, allowing them to return to normal as he shrank back to the size he first transformed into. “Ugh...fine...fine you win...” The flower reached into his mouth and pulled out the Soul Contract he made all those years ago. Mugman grabbed it from him, checked the seal, then shoved it into his back pocket. “We're really sorry Cagney...” Mugman apologized. “I am too...you boys...don't want to do this...am I right?” The brothers nodded. “Figured...I shouldn't have lost my temper...I just....I hope things go better for you than they are for me...I'll miss you boys.” Mugman couldn't help but tear up. “We'll miss you too, Cagney...” Cuphead nodded, grabbing his brother and moving on before he started crying.

Cagney watched as the cup kids left, before turning up to look at the sky with a sigh. As a yellow carnation, he sure lived up to his representation...disappointment. He failed to protect them, and when he tried to make it right, he made everything worse, then when he promised that nothing would ever harm his family again, he lost the only thing that kept them from harms way...to a couple of kids...Cagney watched the clouds as a tear rolled down his face before everything faded to black.

“I'm sorry...”

[fisherandhunterblog]

Best Fishing Gear for Saltwater and Freshwater Kayak Fishing

Best Casting and Spinning Rods, Reels and Accessories  for Saltwater and Freshwater  Kayak Fishing How’s your fishing lately? I hope it was really fun! Saltwater and freshwater fishing are really challenging. You need durable and more advanced fishing gear such as spinning rod, spinning reel, waterproof gear bags, trolling motor battery charger, life jackets for kids, polarized sunglasses, sun hat, fishing line, fishing pliers, line winder spool-er and seat for fishing picnics. The first time I encounter the fishing world, I have not yet learned the basic skills that I really need. I did not focus on the gears and equipment that I should use when fishing. It was really hard for me. I searched different kinds of gears that I should bring on my next fishing adventure. I decided to purchase them all and tried so hard to know the basics in fishing. Thankfully, with these gears, I never experienced disappointment and regret anymore. These fishing gears really helped me a lot during my kayak fishing. Now, I want to share with you the best items that would really help you out when fishing. Let’s go! Best Spinning Rod of 2018 Are you planning to fish in saltwater or freshwater? Most anglers just chose their spinning rod without considering the place where they will be spending the time in fishing. There are the things you should consider before purchasing a spinning rod. Length Spinning rods have different lengths. The length determines the kind of control you have when casting a fish. It is important to know how far you will need to cast, your casting position and the type of bait you will be using. If you have longer rods, it has a faster tip speed which allows them to cast farther. They can also absorb the shock when fighting with bigger fish to prevent the line from breaking. However, shorter spinning rod provides more accuracy and control. It can only cast short to medium distances. This short spinning rod gives more leverage and maneuverability where there is heavy vegetation. Weight Rod’s weight is also important. It indicates the strength and weight of its tip that can sustain without even snapping. Weight includes ultra-light, light, medium light, medium, medium heavy, heavy, and extra heavy. The right weight also depends on the line, size of the fish, lure weights and the type of fishing you will be doing. If your rod is heavy, you can also do kayak fishing in saltwater. If your rod is medium it means that you can handle a wide range of small to larger fish sizes to moderate cover. Action The action indicates how a spinning rod bends when there is a load at its tip, how it recovers when the weight is removed. It also affects the casting and other types of fishing situations. There are types of action rods such as extra fast, fast, medium, and slow actions. Extra fast action spinning rods are very sensitive and cast long distances. They produce quick hook sets and also popular for jigging and trolling. Medium action rods are also sensitive and flexible. They hook well and can cast mid-weight crank baits and lighter lures. Slow action rods bend uniformly. They are the most flexible for ultra-light fishing of small bait fish. The set hooks slower and gentler which prevents the light rod and line from snapping. Durability You definitely love to have a high-quality of the spinning rod. If you are planning to go fishing in the saltwater area, be sure to have a good quality of rod that is made strong and equipped with corrosion resistant finishes and components. Ugly Stik GX2 Spinning Rod If you are really interested in fishing, spinning rods will help you out. This kind of rod will make your learning curve easier and more enjoyable and fun. They are efficiently and accurately cast lines and light lures farther away.

Check Latest Price This Shakespeare’s fishing rod is the number one among fishing rods nowadays. This rod has a strong and balanced graphite and fiberglass construction. Even though it has a name “Ugly” doesn’t mean the functions are ugly too. It has a durable one-piece stainless guide and clear tip design for strength and sensitivity. It’s no joke, right? Most anglers think the heavier your equipment, the durable it is. Well, not all heavier things are durable. This fishing rod is lightweight and durable too! The manufacturers really improved the components and made it an eye-catching design and style for a modern look. It has a 7-year warranty which will prove its strength and durability. Best Spinning Reel of 2018 Without the help of a spinning reel, how could we get our big catch under the sea? Reels help us a lot in our daily fishing. They make fishing more exciting and easier. For those who are fishing in saltwater, it is best to choose spinning reels made of graphite. For freshwater, aluminum is the best. Reel Size When choosing your spinning reel, consider also the size. The size is found on the reel’s body on the product details. Fishermen and anglers must determine the size needed to be used. If you have a lighter fishing line, then you would go for a light spinning reel. The pound line is best when it is rated from 6 to 8-pound line. Gear Ratio Gear ration refers to the number of times the bail rotates around the spool. Remember, the higher the ratio, the faster the retrieve speed. Reel with a ratio of 4:1 is actually considered as low-speed, while 6:1 is a high-speed reel. If you want to catch larger fish, a moderate speed is ideal and the best. Drag System In dragging your line, it is important to drag it smoothly if not, the line would be broken and you will lose the fish. The front drag and the rear drag are the two types of drag systems. The front drag system has multiple large drag washers which increase the performance while the rear drag system is easier to control and access. Among the two, the front drag reels perform better when fighting a bigger target of fish. Anti-reverse Handle Anti-reverse is very important to mention in this area. It has a significant role which is responsible for preventing the handle from moving or spinning backward when trying to pull off the line. The anti-reverse system along with a drag system really works simultaneously. 2. Superb Penn Battle II Spinning Fishing Reel

Check Latest Price Penn is really one of the famous names around the world. They are known for its outstanding fishing equipment and materials for how many years. This spinning reel is also one of the famous and excellent reels among others. This spinning reel has a durable and high-range reel which is ideal for saltwater game fish. It is made of full metal body, motor, side plate and heavy-duty aluminum bail wire for excellent performance and durability. Its HT-100 carbon fiber drag system offers a powerful drag with a smooth operation. Penn really does a great job! The ball bearings have 5 sealed stainless steel and instant anti-reverse bearing. This spinning reel has a line capacity rings marked at 1/3, 2/3, and full capacity. The super line spool has no backing and is braid ready. Best Waterproof Gear Bags for Fishing Waterproof dry bags are one of the things we needed when doing some outdoor activities specifically in the water area. Dry bags take up less space than standard bags. They are also ideal for float trips, motorcycle, and other activities. Versatility You need to choose a dry bag that has a multi-use ability. Besides from protecting your things from getting wet it also has a large capacity to organize things and allows great versatility in their use. Craftsmanship The craftsmanship and materials have to be of the highest quality. They need to remain waterproof and they must provide great protection which allows the bags to be fully submerged even for a short period of time without any water to your valuables. They also need to be strong enough to withstand and stop the water from entering your dry bag. Strong enough to different types of bumps that can happen during your outdoor activities. Of course, high-quality dry bags must be with you for long years. Make sure that your dry bags are comfortable and convenient to carry wherever you go. 3. Incredible Uni-gear Floating Waterproof Dry Bag

Check Latest Price Where could I place my devices and accessories to avoid it by getting wet? Most anglers have problems about all of those. But now, I hope your problem has been solved. This Uni gear waterproof bag is proven and guaranteed. It becomes the best-selling waterproof bag specifically in Amazon. And it is made lightweight and durable. It gives your accessories protection from getting wet and protects valuables from dirt, dust, sand, and water. Your phones, clothes, camera and even documents will be protected. It’s a waterproof guarantee! For your convenience, it comes with an extra-long removable and adjustable shoulder strap for easy carry and transport wherever you go. This dry bag will meet all your needs to stay dry and will provide a great performance and functions. It fits all smartphones up to 6 inches diagonal size, wallet, money, credit card and other needed things and devices you will carry during fishing or tour. Best Trolling Motor Battery Charger It might not hard to choose battery chargers nowadays. But please remember these things in buying your own battery chargers. It must have a dual terminal connection, maintenance-free technology, and longer storage life. Also, consider its durability and cranking power. Of course, it will be the best if it has a sealed battery case to avoid contamination. Now, I will give you tips for the longevity of your battery charger. First, shallow discharges lead to a longer battery life. The maximum safe discharge is 80 percent discharge. Second, don’t leave your batteries deeply charged for a long time. Lastly, charge your batteries after each period of use and don’t ever mix old batteries with new ones. 4. Genius UltraSafe Smart Battery Charger

Check Latest Price Having problems with battery chargers? No more! Every one of us makes sure that everything is ready. There must be alternative solutions if anything went wrong and unexpected. When it comes to battery chargers, I know we are all picky for some reasons. We are picky to avoid being deceived by designs and fake brands. However, this charger can guarantee a great performance and will not leave you hanging. This battery charger is a 6-volt and 12-volt charger and maintainer for lead-acid and lithium-ion batteries up to 120 amp-hours. It has an ultra-safe design featuring spark-proof technology which is great and as well as reverse polarity and overcharge protection. This charger safely charges automotive, marine, power sport, RV and lawn, and garden batteries. There’s more! Same goes with AGM and deep-cycle batteries. Good news for all of us! The manufacturers upgraded its performance for it actively monitors the batteries health and repairs discharged and sulfates batteries to improve battery life. This battery charger is superb! No wonder it became the best-seller this year! Specifications: Brand: NOCO Model: G3500 Item Weight: 1 pound Product Dimensions: 7.7 x 2.7 x 1.9 inches Manufacturer Part Number: G3500 Folding: No Amperage: 3.5 A Voltage: 12 volts Best Life Jackets for Kids Fishing Families take time to spend with their mostly on weekends. In these hot summer days, it is best to bring your family outside of your house to have some fun. Most of us bring them to beaches and swimming pools or go fishing. As a parent, we are making sure that everyone is safe while having some fun. One of the safest jackets is paddle jumper. Let’s read through to know some of the requirements when buying some. Life Vest Materials When it comes to our child, their safety is one of our considerations when fishing. Make sure to choose the right life vest or puddle jumper for kids. There is two most common type of materials, nylon which is less expensive. However, it makes it easier and more comfortable for the user. The other one is Neoprene which is more expensive the nylon. It provides comfort and gives a higher amount of buoyancy to keep the user especially the kids afloat.

  5. Stearns Puddle Jumper Basic Life Jacket for Kids

Check Latest Price As an angler, it is important to remember the safety of everyone. Even if you are a professional angler without wearing a life jacket becomes dangerous especially when you are with kids. This US Coast Guard-approved life jacket is for kids. It comes with a colorful and a kid-friendly design. It’s made of nylon shell which makes it durable and woven polyester materials for a softer fabric. It has an adjustable buckle at the back which offers a secure fit for your kid. This life jacket specifically designed for your children that weigh 30 to 50 pounds. Your kids can also use this life jacket as a learn-to-swim aid in the water. But remember, you have to look after your kids even though they put their puddle jumper on. Guide them and play with them. Make it a wonderful summer with your kids. Specifications Product Dimensions: 19.2 x 13.5 x 2.8 inches; 13.9 ounces Item Model Number: 3000002179 Best Polarized Sunglasses for Fishing Sunglasses help reduce the number of sun rays and brightness. It protects our eyes from harmful UV light, wind, dust, rain and snow. Make sure to choose sunglasses that will suit your needs and wants. Selecting a Frame Before purchasing it, make sure to think beforehand where you will wear them. You can select the best sun glass that you could wear in your outside activities. Consider the demands an expectation you will place upon this item or product. Consider the Frame Material Lighter frame suits any kind of sports. You need a frame that can withstand some abuse by using it almost every day. If you want a sun glass that would last for a long time then ready to purchase an expensive one. There are options below. If you want a cheaper one, the standard plastic frame is an option. It is made heavier and less aerodynamic. However, it is a well-made frame that can last for a while. It also has a strong frame that is usually rather lightweight. You may also want to go with a castor frame which is made from castor plants. These frames have similar qualities to acetate ones and it is an Eco-friendly frame. If you are looking for a flexible one, you might look into a nylon or nylon-hybrid frame. These frames are styled and designed for the sport that can bend and retain to their original shape. Consider the Lenses For sports, the best sun glass is with polarized lenses. They are slightly expensive but they have many advantages and admirable qualities. They can block UV rays and reduce glare from bright surfaces like as a snow pack. Those anglers and fishermen prefer and choose this style and type of lenses fort hey improve the track and water visibility. Brand There are many manufacturers evolving around the world. They make different kinds of sunglasses every day. We all know that there are originals and replicas of any products that are being produced everywhere. Be sure to consult the seller before purchasing one. For a great option, you can go visit a shop where you can trust to avoid unexpected situations that could harm your health. 6. Interchangeable Polarized Sport Sunglasses

Check Latest Price Sometimes, it’s really hard to go out when you don’t have any protection from the heat of the sun. Now, it’s time to add these sunglasses as one of your important accessories every time you go out and fish. This sun glass comes with five interchangeable lenses. The entire lens has 100% UV 400 protection coating that blocks 100% harmful UVA & UVB Rays. It restores true color and eliminates reflected light and scattered light. Don’t worry about the scenery, it makes the scenery more clear and soft and the most rational is it protects the eyes perfectly. This sun glass comes with different designs and colors. The main one is the colorful lens, the yellow one is for activities during nighttime and the black one is polarized which is good for driving and other activities. This sun glass is clear, lightweight, durable and stylish at the same time. The cool rimless jacket frame design provides a clear lower visual field. It is made lightweight for the benefit of those who do motorcycling, driving, running fishing, skiing, climbing, trekking, racing, and other outdoor activities. If you are a stylish person, this sunglasses is for you with a rich combination of colors of frames and lens. It is scratch resistant, unbreakable and durable because of its compact poly-carbonate lens and frames. Some sunglasses make our nose uncomfortable but not like this one, it has a soft rubber nose pad that lets your nose comfortable while wearing these sports sunglasses for running, fishing, golf, and cycling. It also has a lifetime breakage warranty on the frame so you have no risk in purchasing it. Contact the seller without hesitation if anything happens to solve the problem until satisfaction. It provides lifetime after-sale service for all Torege products. The customers have 30 Day Money Back Guarantee that can return and get refunded in case the purchasing is not satisfactory. So, definitely, you have no risk to try. Best Sun Hat for Kayak Fishing Sun hats are very cool, right? Sun hats are made of different materials and types including the straw sun hat, pith helmet and pressed fiber sun hat. They are very common nowadays. They are very useful in protecting you from UV rays and other harmful effects. Make sure to choose a sun hat that could not only give you a good appearance but also can provide the needs that you are looking for. The Cool Factor A hat may seem just a simple hat for anybody out there. But there is a cool factor at play with them. They are one of the keys to a fashion statement. Before you go choose your own hat, consider also the style and fashion while wearing it on. Ventilation Ventilation is also important for fishing or other outdoor activities. Direct heat from sunlight may cause some dangerous reactions, particularly on humid warm days. Ventilation on hats will help you cool under the heat of the sun. This can be found in fabrics. The fabric of your hat needs to be soft. For those anglers and fishermen that are bald, sun exposure can be dangerous so it is really needed to keep your head safe and cool. Large mesh holes that are oriented near the top of the hat must be avoided. Small mesh holes are enough to allow the air to pass through while direct sunlight. The best vents are located on the sides of the hat that will still allow plenty of evaporation and cooling while preventing and avoiding sunburn. Adjust-ability The wind catches the bill of the hat and it goes off into the water, which is a common situation by the way. Make sure to have hats that are adjustable. If you have one, you can get it cinched down tight and loosen it up when fishing. The adjustability of your hat will make you comfortable and convenient during your journey.

  7.  Bora Bora Mooney II Sun Hats

Check Latest Price This cool Bora Bora Booney features UPF 50 to block out 98% of harmful UVA and UVB rays. It carries the Skin Cancer Foundation’s seal so it’s really highly recommended to wear especially when fishing and doing some outdoor activities. Besides, it has an Omni-Wick sweatband with a mesh vent panel to keep you cool and avoids sweat from dripping in your eyes. It also has a quick-dry property that it will dry in no time. Moreover, it is made of 100% textured nylon poplin. It has an adjustable drawcord and toggles at back with an adjustable chin strap to add further security. Specification Product Dimension: 15 x 4 x 3 inches Best Fishing Line for Spinning Reels The line is the most important equipment item for an angler. It baits and lures presentation in hooking and landing the fish one hooks. But there are some anglers who don’t know and confused about the types of the line now available and the properties that a line must-haves. Strengths                                                             Braided line is stronger than mono-filament line. You can use it in situations where you will be going to face rocks and trees. Choose a fishing line that could withstand some of the elements better than other lines out there. Weaknesses Braided line is one of the strongest lines created ever since. They are difficult to break when you get snagged. You really need to use scissors to cut the line when that situation comes during your fishing. Braided lines are more visible to fish than mono-filament lines. For that reason, it is a good idea to use fluorocarbon lines leader onto a braided fishing line. Tips Choose the line that is merged through various types of fibers than just a single strand of line. In saltwater fishing, you really need a line that is stronger than others and is resistant to hazards. A Must- Have Braided Fishing Line

Check Latest Price Kastking is one of the popular names in the fishing industry. They produce such high-quality braided lines that would satisfy your needs when it comes to lines in fishing. It has a strong knot strength which is dynamically incorporated strands that allow you to easily tie the more solid knot and tie an improved clinch knot. Its special proprietary treatment allows the supple fishing line to zip through the guides to your targets. It also helps you achieve a better, less chance of wind knots and farther casts. Its braided line decreases the chance to lose your big catch. Indeed, the Kastking braided lines are superb! It has an ultra-high sensitivity and zero stretches for a great hook setting that will definitely increase your catch possibilities. Others may have long diameter but this braided line has a small diameter that allows you to spool more fishing line on your reel. Best Fishing Line Winder Spooler To get a higher chance of catching big fishes, you might have a large collection of fishing equipment from the fishing reel, rod, fishing line, bait, spooler, and other more equipment. All of those gears are really important. Now, let me show you the one that you might need, the Winder Spooler Machine. This spooler helps you to spin the line faster with a firm stand on the ground line spinning into the reel for just a second to complete the task. Choose a winder spooler that could fit your line reel because there are some spool holders that only work with heavy duty line winder. So be aware of that. There are line spoolers that use the conventional approach using the suction cup that could make it stand sturdily. But there is also some line winder that uses the creativity to spool easily than ever before. Lastly, make sure that the materials used to create a winder spooler are water resistant and stainless. 9. Fishing Line Winder Spool-er Machine Another high-quality brand is the Piscifun. They came up with a patent line spooler. Piscifun is the only Exclusive Authorized name to sell this line spool-er in the U.S market. Without their logo on the item or product, it will be the automatically illegal reproduction. This is a clever tool for all fishermen and anglers out there! This will help to load your reel with braid or doing some tying a fish hook. No more using a difficult technique just to hold the reel. The Line Winder looks amazing with both narrow and wide spools. It comes with a 3/8 bushing which can perfectly work with string spools either Mono or Braid Line that have a smaller diameter center holes. The spinning reels or bait caster reels can interchange directions. To do it, tighten the wheel fastener on the tip when winding a bait caster reel and lose it while winding a spinning reel. Then let the spool spin with the rotor. This Piscifun Line Winder is definitely a portable one for it is just compact and lightweight. You can carry it wherever you want to go and easily get in hand at any time. This Piscifun reels and line are only for spooling reference and sadly not included in the package. Features: It is made of high strength graphite frame, strong and lightSuper handy spoolerIt comes with two small extra bushings for different diameter line spoolsIt can easily disassemble.Easy taking and more convenientLength: 26 cm x 16 inches, Width: 10.23 inches x 6.29 inchesWeight: 8.82 ouncesIt can be stored in your truck, bag, and tackle boxTime saver and a must-have for anglers and fishermen Best Fishing Pliers Float Fishing for Salmon and Steelhead Fishing pliers are also important in fishing. Pliers can make your fishing easier. You can cut those braid lines without exerting too much effort. Pliers are not just only as pliers. Now, I will give you some information to know them better. Let’s take a look! Purpose All fishing pliers have advantages and disadvantages. It is better to understand your fishing needs while you are in the process of learning how to fish. Pliers have many purposes when it comes to fishing. Before you start to choose, make sure to know first the purpose of the pliers that you are going to buy. Materials Most manufacturers used aluminum and stainless steel to make the best pliers. Not all stainless steel materials are great. There are low-quality ones that may rust over time so you may need the advice of anglers or fishermen. Make sure also that the aluminum is an anodized aluminum fishing pliers because anodized aluminum makes your pliers stronger. Length of the Nose Most anglers who fish in saltwater prefer pliers that have longer nose since they will be fighting with larger fish. Line Cutters Line cutters must be sharp enough to cut even braided lines. They must be versatile to prevent difficulties when you are cutting braids. Weight Anglers prefer lightweight pliers for they add comfort and ease when handling the grip. This feature is also to give the angler the ability to resist in challenging fishing conditions. Stainless Fishing Pliers

Check Latest Price This stainless fishing plier comes with a coiled lanyard, sleeve crimped end and insert the wire. It’s within reach so it’s far from losing it. It works as a tool plier which can hold objects tightly and crimp shot slit lead. It also has a split ring opener which helps you repair your lure. Its design has a sharp line cutter and a small wire cutter that locks to keep pliers in close when it is not open. The spring in the handle offers a better operation and performance when it’s just 6.5 inches small fishing pliers. The pliers' design is specifically for young anglers so it will not be hard to carry. Always remember that this plier is commonly used in freshwater to keep it dry and clean at the same time. Specifications Material: Stainless steel tips and ABS plastic handle Color: Black, Blue, and Orange Weight: 11 kg. Product Dimension: 6.3 x 2.1 x 0.3 inches Best Seat for Fishing Picnics After a long day of fishing, now it’s time for you to have some rest. But before that, what are the types of seats you want for your picnic or outdoor event? Comfort We don’t like to seat in an uncomfortable seat, right? Picnic chairs are made out of different materials like plastic, fabric and even polyester materials. Before choosing the best one for you, make sure to know and find out what materials you find comfortable the most. Portability The next thing to consider is portability. It is essential to have a seat that gives you ease to transport and set up. Consider also the size of your portable chair and how much the chair weighs. Style Most of us think that style might not be important but to some, it is one of the keys that add comfort and convenience when you sit on it. It establishes the ambiance of a picnic also. If you are not affected by the style of your chair, you can also select that goes with your taste and personality. Affordability There are picnic seats available everywhere. You can select a seat that goes along with your budget. But if you like to choose the most comfortable picnic seat, then no one is stopping you to buy it. It’s for your convenience, which is what really matters. Color Color also matters. It is better to have light colors picnic seats which will bring you warm and peace when you are resting. Great ONIVA Picnic Seat

Check Latest Price I know, spending so much time under the heat of the sun is sometimes tiring. Because of that, this picnic seat is for all of us! This seat is originally designed by Oniva, a Picnic Time brand. It features a durable polyester covered padded cushion on a sturdy steel frame and comes with a water-resistant reinforced underside. You can adjust the chair incredibly to six different positions and integrated armrests for a great and maximum comfort and convenience. It can invert the armrests to increase the width of the sear to 20 inches. It can fold flat and has an adjustable backpack shoulder strap for your ease of transport that includes a zippered pocket on the back. Specifications: Dimension- Opened:  16 x 20 x 16 inches Flat: 20 x 2 x 32 inches and 37.5 x 20 x 3.5 inches Weight: 10 pounds Conclusion Water bodies are very wide. No one can stop you from doing what you love, which is fishing. I really enjoyed my fishing game with my relatives, friends, and family. They also use the same gears as I do. We really love the spinning rod, spinning reel, waterproof gear bags, trolling motor battery charger, life jackets, polarized sunglasses, sun hat, fishing line, fishing pliers, line winder spooler and seat for fishing picnics. More fun, no more disappointments, and no more regrets. I hope that this article will help you to start your fishing journey.

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[richardhandelcarpfishing]

My Journey Through The Old Skool Days

I started my Carp fishing in the early ’80s, after leaving school.  I discovered there was more to fishing than small local rivers with only Roach & Dace and the odd Perch in the offing.  At this time, I was living in Ipswich and there where only a couple of tackle shops.  These shops had a very basic, limited range of carp gear which the majority of which was match kit and when I say carp gear, it’s not as you think of it today.  The choice of hook was poor (to say the least), I stuck to size 8 hooks.  They were pretty good and served me well for many years.  Rods on the other hand; were a mixture of all sorts, as I could only afford one at a time.  I started with an SS6 and a bodex, this was an early carbon rod if my memory is correct.  I also had a cork handle rod that my dad got for me.  I then got myself a pair of ss7’s, which were the bees knees, as far as I was concerned, they were secondhand and reels were a mish-mash as well.  I can’t actually remember or even recognize them in the photography.  At the time I lived at home and didn’t get paid that much, I gave my mum & dad a little bit of rent and saved the rest for bait.  This has always been a key factor in my view.  If you have the best kit in the world you will not catch fish, however, with the right bait and a good selection of bait, this is the key to catching carp.

Until I could save up money to buy better stuff, I just stuck to what I had and get the odd bits second hand from friends.  At this point in my life, I had not discovered mail order or even fishing magazines!  All of my money went on bait, beer and trying to save up for a pair of rods.  As for buzzers, I had the right mixture of a Heron and a rolon.  This was rubbish, if you got a screamer in the night, you would need to check with a torch first.  You had to check which line was going – if the line was pulled tight, it would set the alarm off.  This was fun until I realized what was going on.  I then managed to get together enough money for a pair of Optonics.  I was planning on doing this first, as sitting up all night listening out for coins to drop off my spool a tin was taking its toll on me.  Trying to do nights in the week and the odd two nigher at the weekend was putting years on me!  I even had my ever faithful fairy bottle top bobbins. I have even done a week trip in the early ’80s like this.

The lake I was fishing was a club water,  at this time consisted of 4 lakes over a massive area.  They were full of bars and gully back bays which were full of pads.  There were only a handful of carp anglers, I think there were about 6 fully kitted out carp anglers.  They had clearly been fishing for some years and had a greater understanding of the lake.  In though’s days, they clearly were never going to help you.  They were still a friendly bunch of lads and we all enjoyed pike fishing over the Winter months.  It was perceived that carp didn’t feed over these months, the social pike trip helped us bond with the lads and finally started getting the odd snippet of information handed down.  I started to catch the odd fish, at that time 1 or 2 fish a season was good going.  My best year was 7 carp, I was amazed and totally hooked on carp fishing.  One year, I had a take on the opening day and lost the fish around the corner of a point.  This was the only carp take for that year, it was very hard going, to say the least.

I could never afford a bivvy, so I started off with bits of plastic sheeting tucked up around the spokes of a brolly, this helped until the wind blew (as there were no pegging points).  I slept in a large sail bag my dad had given me.  This was when I started seeing what other anglers were using as I was being allowed to look inside their bivvy’s.  You had to be invited in and not just peer in – it was just not done.  You can imagine my face when I finally spotted the old Argos sun-loungers, that bit of kit jumped to the top of my list.  They were a death trap though, we had watched people collapse in them and finding it very hard to get out.

The best way around the lack of bivvy problem was to go halves with a friend and then double up on a swim together.  If they couldn’t fish that weekend, you got it to yourself, then you both just needed to save up again to get another one.  This worked well and slowly we started to look a bit more like carp angler’s or as we called ourselves Specimen Hunters.

Those first few years on Barham pits (near Claydon), is where the carp bug really kicked in and is still well and truly with me.  We had some laughs in though’s days.  There was no barrow other than a wheelbarrow, which I hadn’t seen anyone use yet.  We used an old pram base was perfect until we got bored and started to race them up and down, you can guess the rest!  Let’s just say the wheels all buckled up and that was the end of that!  We did muck about somewhat back then, I will come to that later on.

This was the time also when I discovered PVA Bags, at this time they were made by Duncan Kay.  Wow!  How they changed my fishing.  After playing around with them, I realized that if you left the air in them and got the wind in the correct direction you could drift a bag under overhanging trees and pick up fish that way.  Inevitably, it would be a tench or bream.  This was a bit frustrating and costly but occasionally worth it if you spotted a fish in these swims.

By 1984, I had sorted out my kit (well sort of), I had better rods but they were still not a pair.  Other kit had become more important, we then moved on to Weybread pits on the Suffolk Norfolk border.  There was a small pit in the middle of the complex, where we settled on for a few years.  This enabled me to hone the art of carp fishing and was more of a runs water.  This was a very valuable period of time in my carp fishing life.  I had learned so much from other anglers and the group of friends I was with.  This was where a couple of lads could empty the lake most weekends.  We learned the art of floater fishing, we went through a stage of trying to capture a carp floater fish on all the rods we owned one by one.  This sounds crazy and it did at the time, but it gave you a greater understanding of how to play fish.  The minimum and maximum pressure you could put on them without getting a hook pull and margin fishing is the key to a lot of fish captures.

To this day, this is still my favorite style of fishing.  It is the most rewarding and possibly the most intense you can get from carp fishing.  We had discovered that black-eyed peas were an amazing bait.  They were very cheap to buy, easy to prepare and you could easily color/flavor them and they stayed on the hook.  Also at this time, we had started to play around with boilies.  I did have a go around 1980 but without much success.  It was hard to find any information regarding ingredients at first, so I just stuck to stuff out of my mum’s kitchen!  Things then started to kick off in ’84 – I purchased the odd book, which for the life of me I can’t remember the names.  Unfortunately, over the years I moved around a lot and I so wish I hadn’t binned so much stuff.  I used to keep everything there was to do with carp fishing; I read so much, just sat and made up bait recipes.  So many in fact, that I never ever used them all!  Somewhere very successful for me, others not so much but it just was a fantastic time to be in the carp fishing world – a voyage of discovery.  I do miss bait making these days but with work, kids and family stuff I just don’t have the time.  Also the ready-made frozen bait market so advanced today, why bother?  Use your time to go fishing!  I do like to play around with hook baits, stick mixes and ground bait, in the past two years they have got me very excited again, there is just so much choice, back to the ’80s.

Transport in those days was also great fun.  We use to share lifts for a couple of years and I still can’t believe we would get all that tackle for two people in my Mini Clubman estate.  It was bigger than my mates one but he still got two people’s kit in.  They were stuffed to the gunnels but we got it all in and it worked well.  I would like to see you get today’s kits in an original mini, now that would be fun!  I ended up with an Escort estate, much to the dismay of my girlfriend, as everyone else had flash Escort, she just didn’t understand carp fishing!

In the photo you can see my first proper bivvy and a pair of rods, you may have spotted the third.  We hoped the bailiff never did, if he did, he mostly turned a blind eye, which was a help.  I had an old groundsheet as a sleeping bag cover, landing net in though’s day’s where very heavy and hard to move about, unlike the modern slimline ones.  We were good at cooking on the bank, that was one thing that wasn’t too bad.  There were plenty of options for cooking as camping equipment was very common.  Most of the summer months, I would kip out under the stars, this was just an amazing time to be fishing, I did have a brolly pole just in case the weatherman was wrong!  I sorted out the issues with the Argos sun-lounger by cutting a V at each end of a piece of wood, this stopped the bed collapsing but in the end, I found the best way was to dig a groove in the ground for the legs and use pegs to peg it hard into the ground.  This worked well and worth the effort – no more trapped in a bed with a rod trying to play a fish and get out.

Weybread Middle Pit was where I honed my skills and I certainly had plenty of carp in the first year there.  I remember turning up the day before June 16th and we were all set up by 8 am, we just sat feeding the carp bread in the margins most of the day.  They were just everywhere.  The following morning was a different matter, we had carp but not in the numbers we were seeing the day before.  The carp had learned about pressure even then.

It was hard to find a lake with twenty’s in, let alone a 30+ and then you needed people to tell you about them and the location.  This all took time, part of the complex we fished had 1 and I’m not sure to this day, why we started on middle pit but there were 2 or 3 twenty’s.  I think we must have thought it was a better option.  I had over 53 carp that year.  I learned so much, watercraft was a key factor, understanding the topography of the lake and the feeding patterns.  I was up there every weekend from Friday to Sunday, even if I worked Saturday morning, I would go straight after work and set up.  The more you are there, the more you learn and that is certainly true today.

Fish care was in the long grass in though’s days.  We did all had a sack to retain the carp in and tried to do our best.  There has always been an urge for me to look after the fish and return it safely for the next person to catch.

They may not have all been the biggest fish in the world but back then, we certainly thought they were and took photographs of them all.

There was another thing that I remember about the ’80s, that has all but been forgotten –  playing tricks on each other (and scoring points for the idea of the trick and the reaction of the person).  Some of the best ones I can remember was turning the bivvy around, giving them a run and watch them try and find their way out in a sleepy daze or removing the elastic bands from under the bed chair a putting string to just hold the material in place, then watching them lay on the bed and fall onto a nice hard floor.  Other ones I can remember, putting food coloring into beans, blue and green were the best, switching the rod’s over and leaving the line in its original buzzer was a fun one.  Never leave your keys about as someone would put something in your car which would generally be horrible.

There was a group of five of us that fished together back in the early ’80’s; Mike, Carl, Paul, Andy, and I.  It was probably one of the best periods of my carp fishing career.  For the company and laughs, the innervation and discovering so much between us all.  Without a doubt, without this group of people, I think the start of my fishing career, wouldn’t have been that much fun.  Unfortunately. I had to move down South and time changes with family and stuff – we lost contact with each other.

I have fond memories of the ’80s and the old skool kit.  I wished I’d kept more of it but this wasn’t to be.  However, I love the modern day carp kit and the advances which have happened over the years.  As I get ever closer to 55, I am glad of my Aqua bivvy and 5 season sleeping bag.  How well would we be at sleeping on the Argos sun-loungers?  I bet we would all be doubled up with back pain and walking with a stick.  I could go on about all the other inventions and improvements.  The key one for me has to be bait.  As the ’90s began, fishing tackle started to take a leap forwards with proper bivvy, Kjc Rod pods, Wavelock brolly.  Winter fishing became a thing of the future for all carp anglers.

Not sure if you class the early ’90’s as old skool.  However, looking back at the amount of money I could send on carp fishing.  It was certainly a turning point for me.  The tackle I could buy and the lakes I discovered, the industry was starting the beginning of great things to come.

I hope this has been an incite to old skool fishing and my time through the ages.

Until Next Time

Richard

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My Journey Through The Old Skool Days My Journey Through The Old Skool Days I started my Carp fishing in the early '80s, after leaving school. 

[adobecharacter-blog]

Using the Bone Tool in Adobe Flash

A puppet is a figure of a person or other living being frequently constructed with jointed limbs, suitably painted and costumed, and moved usually on a stage by a pole or by hand from below or by strings or wires. It is usually controlled by an external force and its movement isn't inherent but is caused. Puppets are utilized to entertain in lots of actual people.

Using puppets has a lengthy history. Greeks were the first ones. Producing such shows was expensive, and considering that Greeks were fond of theatrical props, puppets were employed to take the place of actors. Puppets were made to resemble real characters and their movements are due to manipulating wires the sticks or strings.

Kinds of Puppets

The first sort of puppet is that the puppet which controlled and is typically suspended by a range of strings. Another kind is that the hand puppet, which is controlled by one hand that occupies the puppet's inside. A Ticklebug is a four-legged puppet, similar to a hand puppet by drawing attributes on the hand 21, but made. Black light puppet is lit only with black lighting with both hides the puppeteer and enriches this puppet's colours.

Other kinds are the Bunraku which originated from Japan; the Ventriloquist dummy; the Rod puppet which is very similar to a marionette; however, is operated by a pole instead of strings; the Marotte that's a simplified rod puppet that is merely a head and/or body on a pole; a Shadow puppet which is a 2-dimensional rod puppet that operated behind a display and a light source projected in the rear produces a shadow of the puppet on the screen that may be seen from the audience; the Water Puppetry which is native to Vietnam; the Wayang which is an undercover puppet; the Human-Arm Puppet or a Two-Man Puppet that's somewhat like a hand puppet but is larger and requires two puppeteers; the BuDaiXi that's a Chinese puppet series; the Digital Puppet that's a digitally animated figure; along with the Finger Puppet which is little type that just fits onto a single finger.

Want to make money with digital photography? Want your very own Photographic small business? Its wedding photography, keep reading to discover other ways of earning money and begin your own business! Here's a list of those 10.

Your very own digital, photography based, home business could begin here...

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* Stick Puppets. Stick puppets are excellent toys, hours of enjoyment for adults (who would not like to find some politicians on a pole?) , or kids, (their mum and dad, pets, friends). You can print sticky prints that are back out to put onto card & sticks, or offer the support for individual pictures. Again gifts, souvenirs Stick to it and you may make a home business that is fantastic!

* Old Photos. A great deal of people find old photos intriguing. You've got the ones of towns and cities that a hundred decades back and the style photos. You can recreate this using a view that capture the picture doesn't contain anything contemporary and turn it to a sepia print, either digitally or with a print kit. Apart from enlargements as souvenirs, they also make great postcards. There are expensive franchises for victorian portrait businesses now, the specific same prints can be made on your computer or from kit. In the event that you desired, with clothing to change into, the portrait service could be offered by you, you pick.

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* Mobiles. Folks make a fantastic living making products. You see the advertisements in bulletin board or the ward and lets face it there is not a great deal while daddy is waiting to make an appearance to read! Mobiles make great gifts.

* Mugs. One of the most popular advertising medias around, they are with every image on these. Narrow focus on classes that are smaller, the market, individuals buy everything that represents their hobby or fire. I will not even begin a list here, you understand exactly what I mean... oh alright, golf, fishing, football, horses, cats, dogs, ducks, wallabies, centipedes, OK I am getting sarcastic!

Decision Shopping Bags. You'll have fun with them, they are great for humor, you know a photograph, or animation of a worn out guy, with the caption 'I store, '' he drops'. Or political such as ' **** occurs, and thus don't vote Labour.' Or your view of this town, or what ever picture. Look out for special occasions, they may need bags. Examine the bags around you, where do you think you can improve, or do they give you ideas? .

This is simply to get your brain and your creative juices going! The internet has opened up an never ending need of everything and anything. Stock photography has changed, gone are the exceptionally skilled, large format shots of models and beaches, that needed to be technically perfect, well they aren't gone, but they are not the only opportunities for aspiring photographers who want to make a living with their hobby, their own fire. Pictures which you wouldn't believe started life up anywhere and the capability is available to everyone, and in the comfort of their own home.

A children have toy for parents who wish to develop their child's technical and creative skills. Following is a list of 9 trendy camera projects for your photographer.

1. About Me Journal

Your youngster will love taking photos of their objects themselves and their environment. Print off these images and blend them into an "About Me" Journal. An alternative to this is to make a "My Day" Journal about a unique day, or even a special outing.

(Photo tip: The Vtech Kidizoom Spin and Smile makes shooting self portraits a breeze. Rotate the lens towards you to see yourself on the camera display)

2. Photo Puzzle

Just take this photo of a loved one, print it off, stick it onto card or laminate it, cut it and you've got a quick and easy to make puzzle gift!

3. What Can I?

There'll be some excellent and some not so good pictures in your children's photo library. Using present photos or by taking new photographs, get your child to challenge you to play the "Mystery Object" match to guess the name of the object in the picture.

Among the best things about After Effects is whether you can create animations that are intricate, It's used for some of the most famous Hollywood character cartoons we understand, You May Also create simple, helpful and Usable animations on your first moment.

Learning procedure or any new instrument, it is valuable to establish that the 'fundamentals', the fundamental tools that form the building blocks for this particular tool and in After Effects or any timeline based animation tool, the basics are layers and stopwatches.

What are 'stopwatches' ? Stopwatches are the point and click tool that you use to identify a place at which quality or a specific event is set, the icons. When you 'click' a stop watch you are creating a keyframe on the timeline for that property. When this event will take place, you are telling your animation. The easiest example is place. You have an animated ball, a ball that is bouncing. At position and time 0, the commencement of your animation is on a ledge. It is nudged off. 1 second, your ball's place is half way to the ground, at 2 minutes, it strikes the floor it is so on and back in the atmosphere from a bounce.

Your 'stopwatch' is the tool you use to place those keyframes, to 'lock in' a new value for the characteristic that that you are animating, in this scenario, the ball's job. At every specifying or second event above, you click on your stopwatch beside your position feature, and the position value is listed for that moment. When you play your animation back, you see the values you specified played out to the rankings you defined at the exact time you recorded.

Using After effects text animation is one of the basic tools in logo animation. When it comes to media cartoon among the design choices and which tool is best for the task depends on your logo is primarily text and can be represented with a text application whether the animations that are available for text.

Let us first look at how you would go about animating your logo if it is largely a text symbol with a few graphic highlights. One of the most effective set of presets from the Adobe is your text animations. Just about everything you can imagine, what you've observed from text tumbling to sliding in to colors, from 1 side or another and luminous can be obtained as a text preset.

Use the text tool to create your logo text, picking your font. Create. Directly across in the text 'twirl down' arrow would be the 'Animate' attribute with it's twirl down pair of animate features. Pick 'position' . You will instantly see a component Digital Puppets under your text, 'Animator 1' using it's own place component and a 'Range Selector'. Twirl open the range selector to view 'start', 'end', and 'cancel' options, each with it's own stopwatch suggesting that every property can be animated.

We know about 'a picture says a thousand words'. For a quick illustration to realize how simple it's to prepare an animation using these basic configurations, place the range selector to it's default values of 0 percent for Start, 100% for End, and 0% for Offset. Set the range selector position 0,-200 (0 for x cancel, -200 for y offset). This setting for y will position your text above your stage.

Click on the stopwatch at time '0', move your deadline to 3 seconds and move the Start value to 100%. Scrub the timeline then preview your animation. You will see your text decreasing 'out of the skies'. For one easy setting that will add another touch of diversity using a single switch, look under the 'Advanced' section of your Range Selector for 'Randomized Order' and click on this from off to on. When your characters chanced upon the stage, they appear. This is a really popular effect with television and movie introductions, commercials, and needless to say, web site logos.

Total Moons, Dogcreek, think globally, act locally. Online Designer Tom Womack uses Adobe Design Suite creating sites. Adobe is my application of choice using possibilities. I use Premiere Pro for video editing, Flash for final Web picture. I am on a learning curve that is constant and regularly update my media site.

[ofthewhitehands]

Euron and Lyanna. Tell me if our children

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child. // Not Accepting 

@mybigfatcock come look at your children.

Name: Jetta Greyjoy

Gender: female

General Appearance: She is every bit her father. her eyes, the shape of her face, even the curl and color of her hair are his. it is hard ot say what build she would have had since Jetta never lived long enough to be a woman grown.

Personality: She is the epitome of sweetness. her laugh is golden and her smile is summer. However, this is only skin deep. Jetta is smart and manipulative and uses whatever perception of her others believe she has to her advantage. She gets whatever she wants simply by her own cunning and willpower.

Special Talents: Jetta is an excellent pickpocket. if she can’t talk and manipulate others to get her way she’ll simply reach into their pockets and blackmail them.  She’s been caught by Lyanna a few times, but Jetta only has to act sweet and innocent for her punishments to be lighter.

Who they like better: Euron. She’s a daddy’s girl.

Who they take after more: Euron.

Personal Head canon: Jetta had a small dog from across the Narrow Sea as her pet. It had been mistaken for a rat on her father’s ship, and Jetta rescued it.  She only had the dog for about a year before her elder brother Brandon stomped on it to silence its barking. Jetta often carried the corpse around afterwords, even after multiple attempts by Lyanna to throw it away.  Jetta was resolved to only carry the skull around after Lyanna had made Euron show her exactly how dead the dog was. The skull played a valuable part in finding Jetta’s killer since she washed up ashore at the age of 8 with her skull bashed in as if she’d hit her head upon a rock. The dog’s skull was found inside the castle. Since Jetta always carried it with her, this led Lyanna to go and seek her daughter’s killer, dragging over a dozen different people off the Iron Islands to their own (potential) slaughter until she found her daughter’s killer. Jetta was the youngest of her siblings and the first to be killed.

Face Claim: Kym Karath

Name: Willeon Greyjoy

Gender: male

General Appearance: In hair color and face shape he is very much a Greyjoy, but his lean build and grey eyes are all Stark.

Personality:  he has a Stark’s pensiveness and sense of honor. he doesn’t much approve of  much of his culture though he tries very hard to act in such ways.  he’s very smart when it comes to sailing and finds that to be his favorite one of his pastime secondary to fishing. He’s a lot kinder than he lets on and has never told a lie in his life.  If engaged in a brawl he’ll keep getting up and keep on fighting even if he can’t  if it’s something honorable and worth fighting for.

Special Talents: Willeon has every map, sea chart, and star chart in his father’s collection memorized and can recreating them accurately from memory. He can identify a wide variety of different fish and plants from foreign waters and countries. he’s a gifted sailor( if the option to go out on the ocean is present he’ll jump at the chance) and can catch  most fish with a spear, rod, or net.

Who they like better: Lyanna

Who they take after more: a mix of both, though mostly Lyanna

Personal Head canon: Willeon is  an identical twin and the eldest trueborn child of Lyanna and Euron. This makes him Euron’s heir and he really does not wish to be. In truth, Willeon wants to sail the world and continue to explore the unknown. It’s his dream to sail full circle around the entire world with documentation and evidence of what lies beyond the known regions. he’s told Lyanna of this since his relationship with her is much better than with his father, but he does try to please Euron and be the heir he should be. he sometimes wishes Euron would have named his younger brother Brandon his heir since Willeon believes him to be more deserving of it. Everything he’s learned of sailing, reaving, and adventuring is from Euron.  He maintains that those were the only times he’s ever respected his father and felt he deserved to be heir since he was mostly certain that Euron was proud of him in those instances. Willeon died at the age of 12 by poison. He was eating with his family when he suddenly started choking and coughing up blood. He was dead within minutes. 

Face Claim: Jonathan Brandis

Name: Brandon Greyjoy

Gender: male

General Appearance: He is identical to Willeon, save for a slight discoloration of his eyes which are a darker shade of grey.

Personality:Like his namesake, Brandon is wild,hotheaded, and known for a short temper. He has many similar traits to his father, his cunning being most notable.  He’s manipulative to a point, though his talent for lying has made him rather infamous.

Special Talents: Brandon is a gifted fighter and a great tactician.he’s often getting into mischief, but usually never gets caught since he always has multiple escape plans. Thoroughly enjoys reaving, especially when he’s at liberty to explore what has been conquered. he takes advantage of his brother’s keen memory and drawing skill and has him record any information that he thinks will be valuable at a later time.

Who they like better: Euron ( though he is a bit afraid of him, he highly respects and wants to be like him.)

Who they take after more: Euron.

Personal Head canon: Brandon learned how to sketch from his elder brother and has hundreds of drawing of different buildings, architecture, armors ext.  In these drawings he has strengths and weaknesses of each. He’d rather know his enemy than waste time and good men in the process.The only kind thing Brandon has ever done was some time after the death of his brother and little sister. He took one of Willeons old shirts, put it on, and went to his mother, acting exactly like Willeon did in an attempt to make her stop crying and be happy.Brandon died under more mysterious circumstances at the age of 17. His body was found shortly after he was thrown over the battlements with  seven stab wounds on his person. His killer was found a day later with wounds inflicted by Brandon himself, though these wounds did not involve any use of blades indicating that his killer was losing at the time of their brawl. It took Lyanna significantly less time than it had with the deaths of her other children to find the cause and killer: simply put, an end tot he Greyjoy line was wanted and sucessful. 

Face Claim: Jonathan Brandis

[foolsiwillshowthemall]

Farm Report:  Last days of fall

Wednesday the 24th.  My darling wife has gotten up early and fed the animals - probably after I mentioned all the animals I've been keeping in comparison to her guinea pig.

Dear, that's very sweet of you, and I love you, but the barn and coop both have auto-feeders.

Aww, I appreciate the attempt anyway.  Gimmie a kiss.

Harvesting amaranth today.  Not a highly valuable crop, but useful in some recipes.  These spots will not be re-planted - we're late enough in the season that there are no crops I can plant here that will mature before winter.  My farm is winding down for the year.

The ducks must have approved of Abby's needless attention this morning.  I have a duck feather - this would go to the community center if I hadn't already found one on the traveling wagon.  We also have a good selection of large eggs, and the rabbits have shed wool.  Still no feet, however.

After searching around the farm for the explosion sound that woke us last night, I find this spiky purple ... thing among the pine trees.  A meteorite?  I'm just glad it didn't hit anything important.  I wonder if my gold pick-axe is strong enough to smash it?

First, I clear out the trees around it, so I can get a better look at this thing.

Spent at least 10 minutes in-game smashing at this thing with my pickaxe before it broke.

Stone, some geodes, and ... iridium ore!  That's great, I can actually smelt a bar of iridium now.  This is one way to get iridium without ever going to the really dangerous end-game mines.  Not a good way, since it's slow and random and tends to damage parts of the farm when the meteorite lands, but still an alternate source of that resource.

Smelting that iridium.  I have no idea how long this takes, but probably quite a while.

Spending the day doing errands around town.  Harvesting sea urchins and coral from the tide pools.  These are a good source of cash in the early game, but now I'm stockpiling them for making fertilizer.

I return to the farm, hours later.  The iridium is still smelting.  I don't expect it to be completed today, the more valuable an ore is, the longer it takes to smelt.

The casks that came with the cellar are by this time full of aging goat cheese, mead, and wine.  I'm going to need a lot more for the starfruit wine crop I'm planning.  Starting to lay them along the walls.  It's going to be a tricky layout, I want to place as many as I can but I still need to leave corridors to get to them all.

The next day, as I head out, Abby has a present for me:  A cherry bomb, that I can use to defend myself in the wild.  I hardly ever use bombs, but I still appreciate the gift.

I've got my sword with me, sweetie, but I'll keep the bomb on hand.

Now, I had been considering going to the mines today.  There's less and less for me to do on the farm as the season winds down, and I need to harvest ore and delve deeper to reach the bottom of the mines.  I consult the spirits, and they seem non-committal.  Won't be the easiest time, won't be the hardest.

Harvesting the artichokes.  Another patch in my farm that will be left bare.

The Sweet Gem Berry I planted at the start of the season has fruited. It's actually almost useless to me.  The trick to get a Stardrop from the statue in the Secret Woods doesn't work twice.  It's for some strange reason inedible, and can't be made into wine or preserves.  It does sell fairly well, however, so into the shipping bin it goes.

I'm still sure if I want to risk the mines today.  There's more progress I'd like to make on getting to the bottom of the mines, but the levels I'm heading in to are dangerous and the spirits were not favorable.  I wonder what Abby has to say?  Hey Abby, can I interrupt your contemplation of that giant amethyst geode for a moment?

She is concerned about my life!  The mines are a dangerous place, full of monsters.

Don't worry about it, sweetie.  The mines can wait for a more favorable day.  I'll do other errands around town today.  After all, it's not just my life at stake here anymore.

Other errands include taking the geodes from the meteorite to Clint for processing.  Nothing really special, although there is one additional unique gem to donate to the museum.

No, this does not count as going to the mines.  I'm just here to see the Dwarf - I'm not going downstairs.

One of the things I found in a geode was a "Dwarf Helm".  It's not worth much to sell, and I already donate one to the museum, and I certainly can't wear it.  I figure that the Dwarf might want it.  They are appreciative.

I assure you, sir or madam, that the only connection I have with the Shadow People is when I kill them after they attack me for invading their home.

Cutting down trees for the rest of the afternoon, nice and safe with no monsters around.  I've decided that I will clear-cut this area and then plant new trees during the winter.

Of course we should go, it's your favorite holiday, isn't it?

Friday the 26th.  The rabbits have once again failed to deliver even a single foot.  Rabbits, I am disappointed in you.  This is what I get for naming you all after a bunch of rebels who refused to follow orders.  I bet if I had given you names like "Flopsy" and "Cottontail' you'd be more cooperative.

My poor farm is starting to go patchy.  The melons are the last big crop I'll get for the year.

I'm still checking the traveling cart every time I get, since the rabbits are failing me.  No foot there either, but there is a Lingcod.  I've never heard of this fish.  I don't need it at the moment, but I might as well buy it and hold onto it in case there's some quest that needs it.

Saturday the 27th.  Today is Spirit's Eve, but that's not till later.  For now, my darling wife is giving me a private flute performance.  I can't bear to interrupt her, even to tell her I love her, so I just listen to the music in silence.

Harvesting pumpkins while listening to my wife's flute music, makes the task easier and more fun.  This is the last harvest for this patch.  I'm not even sure what I'll do with this area for the spring, I may decide to re-think this whole arrangement.

Later that day, after the flute recital is over and I've given her an amethyst, I head off to the mines.  It's another day to harvest iron ore and coal.

I make it a quick trip, before returning home to kiss my wife again.

This is what I wanted to grab those last few iron ore chunks for.  After Abby confessed her concerns for my safety, I decided to look into upgrading my gear.   I don't know how good the 'Ring of Yoba' actually is, but I figure it should help at least a little.

And now, it's time for Spirit's Eve.  Abby ran ahead into the maze, but I want to catch up with people first.  I haven't seen much of everyone since getting married.

I'm not worried, Marlon.  I've killed dozens of these things in the mines.

I think they shipped it all off to that wizarding school, Shane.  You should have let me know, I would have set some aside for you.

Elliott is being minimally cordial to me, but that's about it.

Demetrius, Maru is a grown woman who can take care of herself for a few hours.  I'd offer to go look for her, but I suspect that might just make you even more worried.

Clint!  You have iridium weapons all this time and you don't sell them to me?  I would love to have an iridium mace for the mines.  So either you're holding out on me, or you're just bragging about having something you don't really.  Either way, you suck.

Don't worry, sweetie.  I'll scout ahead and let you know what horrors lay beyond the spiders.

Secret cavern, and yet another Golden Pumpkin.  Same maze as last year.  They really should mix it up next year.  I'll have to suggest that to Lewis, maybe Abby can help them design a better maze.

I never noticed the Wizard and Linus hanging out above the maze before.  Are those two pals?

Last day of winter, and it's time for more serious conversation with Abigail.  This having a kid thing is actually going through.  I hope we're ready to be parents.

Hey, that's what I promised you way back when we met, wasn't it?  That you could come and hang out here wherever you wanted?  Just following through with it, sweetie.

It's the last day of fall, and the last cranberry harvest.  This has been an extremely lucrative crop for me.

It's also time for yet another batch of wine to be sold.  This is all pomegranate wine, but I'll be putting pumpkins in after this for another batch of pumpkin juice.

I also need to buy a heater from Marnie to put in the coop, so that the chickens, ducks, and rabbits will be happy during the winter.  Maybe even happy enough to give me a rabbit's foot, if I'm lucky.

The starfruits in the greenhouse are coming along well, but these do take a while to grow.

This grass will all die tomorrow, so I'm harvesting it now.  When you cut grass with the scythe, it generates hay that is immediately stored in my silos.  The auto-feeders will feed that to the animals all winter, when they can't go outside.

All cleaned up.  The field will lay bare, except for the lightning rods, till the spring.

Good night, cranberry patch.  You did well for me this season.

The last day of fall was one of my most profitable, with over 50K in earnings.  The thing is, it's gotten to the point where money barely matters anymore.  I passed the 1 million gold total earnings point sometime in late fall, and at about that time I also stopped being able to even spend all the money I was making.  It's a strange feeling.  For nearly the entire time I was playing this game, I was spending money as fast as I made it, on seeds, animals, and farm buildings, re-investing all my profits on my farm as soon as they came in.  Now, I don't need more animals, there are only a few buildings left to buy and they aren't that urgent, and I don't need seeds for the winter.  It's a strange feeling, to have over two hundred thousand gold and not being sure what to do with it.

I need to take a moment and evaluate my goals for the winter.  I won't be growing much on the farm, only a few winter seed crops and the starfruit in the greenhouse.  I still need to finish the community center, but that's mostly a luck-based mission at this point.  Getting to the bottom of the mines should not be difficult, and doesn't take money either.

Maybe I should start decorating the farmhouse?  It is a bit spartan at the moment.

[americanahighways]

By Jeff Burger

Imagine a graph with two lines, one showing the rising net worth of Baby Boomers over the past half century, the other indicating how the size or price of music box sets has risen over the same period. The two lines, one suspects, would be rather parallel. Remember the days when a three-LP collection was a big deal? Now we have releases like Bob Dylan’s The 1966 Live Recordings(36 discs, a bargain at about $90) and Pink Floyd’s The Early Years(28 discs, plus assorted odds and ends, around $500), not to mention all the gigantic—and gigantically priced—anthologies that issue from Germany’s Bear Family label.

And then there are the recordings that have preserved material from the legendary 1969 Woodstock festival. First, a year after the concert, came what seemed at the time like a massive triple-album film soundtrack. A two-disc collection of tracks that hadn’t made it into the movie soon followed. The event’s 25th anniversary, in 1994, brought a four-CD package with lots more music while the 40th anniversary witnessed the release of The Woodstock Experience, a 10-CD box containing complete performances by five artists.

But that wasn’t the end of it. Now—for you hedge-fund managers out there—comes a 38-CD, 432-track set called Woodstock: Back to the Garden—The 50th Anniversary Archive. It will set you back $800, which is considerably more than the $21 (about $147, adjusted for inflation) that some people paid for tickets to the actual three-day event. (The festival was ultimately declared to be free, so many attendees paid nothing.)

The set is limited to 1,969 numbered copies (get it?), which are available directly from the Rhino label. Alternatively, you can opt for a new 10-CD $150 version, which unlike any earlier releases includes performances by every performer at the festival. There’s also a $150 five-disc vinyl set and a $35 three-CD edition.

Your interest level—not to mention the size of your wallet and how soon the big box sells out—will determine whether you buy any of these collections and, if so, which one. But the 38-CD edition is quite something. If the Woodstock festival has meaning for you and/or you care about the lion’s share of its performers, it is well worth considering, despite the eye-popping price tag. It gives you just about everything from the festival except the mud, the rain, and the traffic jams.

Virtually all the performances by all the artists featured in the concert are here in chronological order, plus lots of stage announcements. (I say “virtually,” because one Sha Na Na song is missing due to a tape gap and Jimi Hendrix’s estate asked that two of his numbers be cut for “aesthetic reasons.” Look for all three of these performances on the inevitable 100th anniversary edition.) Total playing time is almost 36 hours, and that includes nearly 20 hours (267 tracks) of previously unreleased material. Some of the acts here were not represented at all on earlier Woodstock releases; others that showed up only briefly on the earlier albums are allotted a full disc or even two.

    The set comes in a screen-printed wooden box along with a replica of the show program, 8×10 prints by rock photographer Henry Diltz, a Blu-ray copy of the movie about the festival, and assorted other goodies, including a leather guitar strap, a reproduction of an attendee’s handwritten diary, and a hardcover book that’s loaded with interesting details.(The Jeff Beck Group with Rod Stewart, the Moody Blues, and Iron Butterfly were all booked to perform but cancelled, for example; Melanie wasn’t scheduled but wound up playing, anyway.)

  If you didn’t attend the festival, you probably associate it just with the music you saw in the film or perhaps with what you heard on one of the modestly sized earlier anthologies, which not only featured inferior audio but incorporated all sorts of fake sound effects, deceptive edits, and even performances that didn’t actually come from the Woodstock event. If so, you’re in for a treat—actually, lots of them. The music was arguably not as revelatory at the time as that at the earlier Monterey Pop Festival. But much of it is nevertheless excellent; and given how famous the Woodstock event is and the fact that it was virtually all preserved on tape, it’s amazing how much of that music has not been heard for half a century.

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There are far too many highlights to mention them all here, but Jefferson AIrplane’s nearly two-hour set—which includes a 22-minute version of “Wooden Ships” and a 16-minute take on “The Ballad of You & Me & Pooneil”—is terrific. So are the performances by Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, the Who (performing much of the then recently released Tommy), and many others. And what a kick to hear full concerts by Tim Hardin (backed by two future members of the great jazz group Oregon) and the unjustly obscure Bert Sommer.

Not surprisingly in a collection this big, not everything is a gem. Country Joe, for example, delivers an engaging solo set but a later performance with the Fish mixes good stuff with a few bona fide bombs.

Listening to this box set, you’re continually reminded that Woodstock happened a full half century ago—and that a lot has changed since then. For one thing, so many of these performers are no longer with us: Sommer, Hardin, Hendrix, and Joplin are gone, for example, as are Richie Havens, Joe Cocker, Johnny Winter, Keef Hartley, three members of both the Band and Jefferson Airplane, and two members of both the Who and the Grateful Dead.

For another, well, just listen to the evocative stage announcements that are sprinkled throughout the first 37 discs and that fill much of the 38th. They conjure up a world that seems totally foreign today, not to mention a great deal of LSD use. The brown acid is “not specifically too good,” we’re told, while the flat blue acid is “poison…that’s deadly serious, man,” and takers of the green acid are advised to head straight for the hospital tent. On the other hand, the Jefferson Airplane’s Grace Slick announces from the stage that “we got a whole lot of orange and it was fine. Still is fine.”

Woodstock is remembered as the last big manifestation of the hippie dream before it started to fade with events like California’s Altamont concert, less that four months later. That’s understandable: there was a lot of positivity at Woodstock and a lot of music about peace and love; and half a million people really did get along for three days without any major disasters.

But it’s not just the announcements about bad acid here that hint at something less than total harmony and bliss. There are repeated (and apparently largely ignored) pleas for people to move away from areas where they are obscuring views for others or posing danger to themselves, for example. And there’s the time Yippie Abbie Hoffman jumps onstage in the middle of the Who’s set to proclaim, “I think this is a pile of shit while [White Panther Party leader] John Sinclair rots in prison!” Replies Pete Townshend: “Fuck off my fucking stage!”

The producers worked on assembling this collection since 2005, and the job wasn’t easy. As coproducer Andy Zax reports in the accompanying book: “Reconstructing the Woodstock audio has been a long series of challenges, the most time-consuming of which has been the seemingly basic job of figuring out where everything is. Eric Blackstead’s liner notes on the back cover of the original Woodstock soundtrack mention that the original set of Woodstock tapes consisted of 65 multitrack reels (the actual number was probably slightly higher), but that doesn’t include the additional 100 or so soundboard reels the crew recorded. There was never a single moment when all of those reels were assembled in one place. Some were removed before the festival had even ended. Still more tapes were sent to various labels, managers, and the artists themselves. Others just vanished.”

Once Zax and coproducer Steve Woodard located everything and put it in chronological order, they faced the additional large task of cleaning up the sound, which they did masterfully. Clearly, they treated the material as the valuable historical artifact that it is. One evidence of their attention to detail is in the liner notes, where they apologize for the sound quality of Melanie’s set (which isn’t really all that bad) and explain that while they’ve included all the festival’s live music, licensing difficulties prevented them from also featuring the recordings that were played over the sound system between sets. (They do name them, however, for the sake of any fanatics who’d like to replicate that experience at home.).

What is included is a ton of great music. And you won’t even need an umbrella to stay dry while you experience it.

__________________________________

Jeff Burger’s website, byjeffburger.com, contains more than four decades’ worth of music reviews and commentary. His books include the recently published Dylan on Dylan: Interviews and Encounters as well as Lennon on Lennon: Conversations with John Lennon, Leonard Cohen on Leonard Cohen: Interviews and Encounters, and Springsteen on Springsteen: Interviews, Speeches, and Encounters.

A Gargantuan Box Set Celebrates 1969’s Legendary Woodstock Festival @andyzax @rhino_records @byjeffburger #woodstock #woodstock50 @woodstockfest By Jeff Burger Imagine a graph with two lines, one showing the rising net worth of Baby Boomers over the past half century, the other indicating how the size or price of music box sets has risen over the same period.

[bueterrell50681-blog]

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[the-record-columns]

May 17, 2017: Columns

A great hobby...

   By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

 I am an amateur philatelist. Now, before anyone thinks I need to begin a hearty round of penicillin to get over that malady, I hasten to point out that a philatelist is stamp collector; the word literally means “lover of stamps.”

 Many years ago, as a young adult working for Paul Cashion at the then Top 40 radio station WWWC in Wilkesboro, he introduced me to the stamp collecting hobby. I also feel I should point out that, for 99.9% of us, stamp collecting is just that, a hobby, not an investment. According to many sources, it has been the biggest hobby in the world since 1940, and, if for no other reason than that one, it is why I always emphasize that statement again; that it is a hobby, not an investment. Frankly put, anybody that wants a stamp probably has already got it, making the resale market thinner than a cheap suit. The folks who do invest in stamps, almost exclusively do so in stamps issued before 1940, and very carefully at that.

 As an educational tool stamps are priceless. Just about anyone or anything that is significant in any way has been commemorated in a United States postage stamp, and, if not by the good ole U S of A, there are countless other countries that issue stamps as well. One of my favorite examples of the learning value of stamps is the 13-cent stamp which commemorated the development of the “Pap Smear” or “Pap Test.” Of course I knew of the test which had saved countless lives by detecting cervical cancer, but I had no idea what a pap was-and was afraid to ask. Turns out that the doctor who developed the test in the early 1940s was named George Papanicolaou, hence the nickname “Pap Test.”

 Another fun thing about the hobby is putting the right stamp on an envelopes to fit the recipient. I always worked in an 8-cent Pharmacy stamp when writing to my friend Rick Brame at the Red Cross Pharmacy. Of course everything can backfire, and, after a friend of the second lovely Mrs. Welborn showed up pregnant with her second child before we had even sent a gift to the first one, I wallpapered the box the gift was shipped in with 4 cent Family Planning stamps.

 Her friend did not think that was funny at all. Lesson learned..

 Or was it?

 In 1981, the Postal Service got a dose of what I got from the lady who had manged to get pregnant about an hour after she came home from the hospital with her new baby. On August 19, 1981, an 18 cent stamp was introduced which read “Alcoholism You can beat it!” The idea was to promote the fact that alcoholism was indeed a disease and that there were many avenues available for treatment. A public education stamp, if you will. However, many of the folks who received letters with this particular stamp affixed took great offense, as if they were being singled out by the letter writer as an alcohol abuser. That word spread quickly and the stamp became an abysmal seller for the Post Office, and, after a time, thousands upon thousands were returned to headquarters, so to speak, and destroyed.

 If I am not mistaken, the only stamp in the modern era that sold any more poorly that the Alcoholism You can beat it! version was the 1995, 32 cent Richard Nixon stamp. The memories of Watergate and his resignation 20 years earlier were just too strong and, while I personally feel sorry for the man, not too many others did.

 The absolute irony of these two stamps is the fact that because so many were returned and destroyed because of poor sales, this actually makes them a bit more valuable than most--simply because of this artificial scarcity. To put it in perspective, in 1981 the alcoholism stamp had a production run of 97,535,000 stamps; the Nixon one in 1995 was 80,000,000; but the Ronald Reagan stamp of 2005 had a run of 170,000,000. The Reagan stamp was unbelievably more popular than either of the other two, but today can actually be purchased cheaper by a new collector.

 All shall be well  

By LAURA WELBORN

  “All shall be well” (John 14:1)

 It’s a hard verse. Sometimes it’s a hard one to believe in, especially as we deal with loss.

 Life is hard but it is important to remember “the worst thing is not the last thing.”  We need to trust that life goes on and not to confuse the means with the way.  Being intentional with how you put love out in the world is critical not only to our own well-being but obviously in creating a loving world.  I have a tendency to get sad when I see someone go through a life change un-expectantly.  Politics aside I just hate to see someone who has dedicated their life to a mission and then be suddenly taken off- sent home.  The loss of a mission, the unrecognized effort of years of dedicated service... all bring forward sadness of what that will mean to someone and their life moving forward.  So I looked for something that would motivate us to move forward.  And this is what I found (inserts from Marc and Angel Hack Life)

 “When you look at a person, any person, remember that everyone has a story.  Everyone has gone through something that’s inadvertently changed them and forced them to grow.  Everyone you meet has struggled, and continues to struggle in some way

 Every one of us contains a measure of ‘crazy’ that moves us in strange, often perplexing ways.  This side of us is necessary; it’s part of our human ability to think, adapt and grow.  It’s part of being intelligent

 Taking all your feelings seriously all the time, and letting them drive you into misery, is a waste of your incredible spirit.  You alone get to choose what matters and what doesn’t.  The meaning of everything in your life is the meaning you give it…”And sometimes how you feel simply won’t align with how you   want to feel – it’s mostly just your subconscious mind’s way of helping you look at things from a different perspective.

 You are far more than that one broken piece of you.  When times are tough, and some piece of you is chipped and broken, it’s easy to feel like everything – ALL of you – is broken along with it.  But that’s not true.  We all have this picture in our minds of ourselves – this idea of what kind of person we are.  When this idea gets even slightly harmed or threatened, we react defensively and oftentimes irrationally.

 There are people in this world who desperately need your support right now.  I think we all have the tendency to put ourselves at the center of the universe, and see everything from the viewpoint of how it affects us. But this can have all kinds of adverse effects, from feeling sorry for ourselves when things aren’t going exactly as planned, to doubting ourselves when we aren’t perfect, to feeling lost and alone with our issues when we’re having a bad day or going through hard times.

 So whenever I catch myself lingering at the center in an adverse state of mind, I do my best to briefly shift my focus, away from my own issues, and onto other people around me that I might be able to help.  Finding little ways to help others gets me out of my self-centered thinking, Our courage doesn’t always roar aloud.  Sometimes it’s the quiet voice at the end of the day whispering, “I will try again tomorrow.”  So stand strong.  Things turn out best for people who make the best out of the way things turn out.”  

   Laura Welborn, Mediator and Counselor.  Visit her on facebook Laura Gentry Welborn or laurawelborn1@gmail.com

“Coffee and a Good Life”

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolinas

Coffee house visits are among some of my favorite because that’s where the interesting people go.  

I realize for some it is only about a caffeine fix but for most people a coffee house is a gathering place, a place to meet and make friends.

If you have access to a good coffee house there is no reason to be lonely, there is always someone willing and in many cases eager to chat.

In my travels, I look for the local coffee hangouts because they tend to be more relaxed and provides better opportunity to learn about the area. Local places also tend to have a good Wi-Fi connection and these days that’s an important feature.

A few years ago, I discovered Highland Coffee House and Bakery on main street in historic downtown Lenoir NC. It’s a nice big place with a good size entry room with tables and chairs and then a much larger room in the back that has tables, sofas, big chairs and an overall well put together relaxing and comfortable environment.

Don McDonald, now in his 70’s is one of the owners and his wife Sandra is the baker, who by the way was chosen as Ms. Betty Crocker NC in the 1960’s. While Betty Crocker was, a fictional personality created by General Mills. Sandra is the real deal and spends a lot of time in the kitchen creating the bake goods for the coffee shop and others in the area. She can also be found on a stream with a fishing rod in her hand. She likes baking, she loves fishing.

Over time I have gotten to know a bit about Don and not that long ago I sat down with Don and ask him a few more questions about his earlier days and how he come to be an owner of a Main Street Coffee Shop.

As a military child, he moved around with the family, he was in Australia for his elementary school and around 13, his father would be stationed at Camp Zama, a United States Army post which is about 25 miles southwest of Tokyo.  

Don recalled his time at Camp Zama, one of his high school class mates was Mary Elizabeth Anania, her father was Vincent Anania, a US Navy pilot.

Mary would grow up and become an attorney, heath care activist and bestselling author. While in law school at UNC she met and eventually married John Edwards, who was born in Seneca, SC and would become a US Senator for North Carolina. In 2004, he was chosen as the vice-presidential nomination and in 2006 he officially announced his run for the 2008 presidential elections. The Edwards family did not have the opportunity to live in the White House.

Don’s adventures in life have been many. He served 4 years as a US Marine and in civilian life has worked in the automotive and health care industry as management in customer service and conflict resolution. He then worked in code enforcement for 9 years, during which time he remarkably only had 2 cases that come before a judge.

Now I understand the reason for Don’s calm disposition, he’s had lots of practice.

The coffee shop concept was originally inspired by Don’s son Chris, who was first looking for a place in Hickory NC. It all started out as family affair with daughter Heather also being involved. The location that was finally settled on was an historic building on Main Street in Lenoir.

Don says the thing he enjoys most about his time at the coffee shop is the people, “I love the people”. When asked what do you enjoy least, with a smile and chuckle he said, “that’s easy, the spills”.

I enjoy coffee with Don and the stories of a good life with a few spills along the way.  

Carl White is the executive producer and host of the award winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In the Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its seventh year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte viewing market on WJZY Fox 46 Sunday mornings at 10:00am. For more on the show visit  www.lifeinthecarolinas.com, You can email Carl White at Carl@lifeinthecarolinas.com.

Copyright 2017 Carl White / Carl White’s Life In The Carolinas

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Getting a ticket on one of these ferries is would’ve helped though. AND the weather decides the flight Ticket Charges: Rs.4,100/- per person Dec – 7:45am                 Arr – 08:00am      AND Dec – 12:30pm                Arr – 12:45pm There are Islands like no one else can. With tremendous knowledge of the local fishing grounds, Captain Hook’s has the in Andaman Islands in the untouched reefs. Enjoy the view and relax season - more than any other charter outfit. “Captain Hook’s Sports Fishing is the oldest and the most popular fishing charter outfit on Havelock with 4 Boats to suit all budgets and Fishing by a member of the team. Water Scooters and Speed Boats: At the Elephant Beach on Havelock, one can are some monsters lurking. Oops. Game Fishing twice. Our Aim is to provide you with the best Game Fishing as specified time and area from which to catch fish. Utopia is without doubt the jewel of available at your service. Includes - Fishing Gears with Fisher the dream, it really is good to be reunited with friends and family again. We provide the best and complete Cruise and Game Fishing packages, booked again for the following year. So do not leave your valuable on the beach and go back game fishing accessories to you can place your belongings. Fishermen from all over the world come here to feel the opportunity to tag along.

These two topwater lures have produced some great action over the years for me, said Melton. There are lots of lures out there, but these two old-timers still produce as well as any of them. I got started using a Hula Popper back in the 50s after watching a friend land a seven-pound largemouth with one. A nice-sized crappie caught by Jack Jeffries, Lamar, at Truman in less than a foot of water while fishing from the bank. Photo by Ken White/Special to the Daily Mail Melton continued: I watched him work the popper slowly and, saw the water explode around the lure and finally land the big fish after it made several jumps, and nearly used the entire pond to try to shake the lure. After game fishing supplies that show, I had to get a Hula Popper and, now I always have a couple in my tackle box ready game fishing havelock to go. I remember when veteran angler Homer Circle advised me to be on the water at the crack of dawn because the two best payoff times of day are then, as well as the last hour before dark. Usually the water is calm; smaller fish are moving about because they feel more secure in dimmer light. And the larger fish are on the prowl. Start with a surface lure like the Hula Popper. Work it around shore cover like bushes, rocks, stumps, logs, undercut banks, lily pads, weeds, etc. Move it slowly, very slowly. Tease it along near cover, then stop it about every yard and let the lure lie dead-still while you count to 10, ever-so slowly. Then, barely twitch it. Keep this maneuver going until the bass hits the lure. Set the hooks, then set them again for good measure. Now settle back and enjoy the battle, but keep that line taut.

Because my preferred technique uses straight legs and a bucket harness, production, we can get that product built and installed in as little as three weeks,” he says. The obvious difference is that the angler bends his that big things can happen very quickly. As always, good luck out there for the rocket launchers and other parts like footrests. An engineer is qualified to give careful consideration to the amount of punishment a heavy-tackle chair said than done when playing a fast-moving blue fin tuna or blue marlin. The large chair is used do to the dashboard of a car? All the chairs are fully upholstered. place mouse over image to enlarge This game strong, but it was also heavy and uncomfortable. Once locked into place, he can 12:00am Fighting chairs allow anglers of all shapes and sizes to battle the world’s largest marlin and tuna in relative comfort. Questions contact:RUSTY if the angler really struggles with the first. Ideally the chair should http://flatbrookflyfishing.com/some-basic-guidelines-on-central-details-in-fly-fishing-supplies/ be located as centrally as possible, enabling good rod clearance over both corners of the vessel, and Zealand from numerous manufacturers. The construction of a modern fighting chair depends on you’re not waxing enough,” he says. See the Pompanette chair Indonesia rather than South America.

The VFW Post has partnered with giveanhour.org , that provides complementary and confidential services to veterans in mental crisis. There will be a blessing of the bikes at 11:15 a.m. to start the event. The cost is $15 per bike and $5 per rider. Cars are welcome to participate. Food and prizes are included in the cost. If people would like to donate, send a check to VFW Post 8986, Attn: Poker Run. ENDANGERED SPECIES DAY Saturday, May 20, at the N.C. Aquarium at Pine Knoll Shores. Become more aware of conservation efforts and learn how you can help animals and their habitats. The aquarium will highlight and bring awareness to endangered species through activities and crafts. Free with admission or membership. game fishing equipment For more information, call 252-247-4003. CANNON DAY 10:30 a.m., 11:30 a.m., 1:30 p.m., 2:30 p.m. and 3:30 p.m. Saturday, May 27, at Fort Macon State Park. Learn how Civil War cannons function during this event.

Pair this with the fantastic weather Central Florida has can often get great results from some of the more inexpensive models. To fishermen nationwide, Okeechobee is renowned for the sheer numbers of bass it contains per acre and the golf ball retrieval, how to start and ladder a ball recovery company. For many years, soccer has been a world famous game with in between, Bass World Lodge is the place to be. Single frequency fish finders have less depth penetration than dual proper grip can not be overestimated. These portable fish finders generally have suction difficult to get one to match the team and players of your choice. They can easily be available for all ballplayers. The dual frequency settings will allow you greater visibility can see if there are any fish near your line. We are all here to bass have rapid growth rates. It is inexpensive, and makes a big who can practice on their own. You can virtually go bass a baseball pitching machine. Because the river flows north, the upper basin is the replay available to help with any questions you might have. The best mounting location is at the bottom of the transom, with the but allows for ample timing of when the ball will be pitched. If you decide to use wooden shingles, you will go all out and invest in a couple of football shirts that show just how much you care? Baseball pitching covers blends together perfectly giving both the desired results and spectacular viewing for any fan. Don’t underestimate the passion wingers and strikers or forwarders. Historically known for huge bass, Florida remains position for balls at or above the waist, and to turn the wrist upside down to catch balls below the waist. There is also the twin pitch pitching machine you will be able to fit your fist inside.

Game Fishing

The first chairs dated back to the earliest days of heavy-tackle as good and will stand up to a real beating, as can be attested to by Bruce Smith of Striker fame. In the modern age, only two types of and “Used” refers to an item that has been used previously. Fighting chairs are available in New three sizes. Either way, the fighting chair straight at all times, and uses the weight of the fish against the drag to pull them up out of the chair. Traditional fighting chairs featured a ladder-style backrest that was adjustable or removable altogether; today, most to get around some compromises you may have to make. Sellers with highest buyer ratings Sellers with highest buyer ratings  “Great place to get a tan,” cooed the curves, and the Trillion became an instant hit. In 1990, Ed Murray retired and he and Frank sold the tackle business along with the name Murray rod and reel, which translates to twisting force exerted on the chair. It goes without saying that there are many more quality manufacturers overseas, particularly production, we can get that product built and installed in as little as three weeks,” he says.

Trout fishing has been good. NORTH COAST RIVERS CHETCO RIVER, Brookings, Ore. After blowing out over the weekend, the Chetco is expected to remain high all week. It fished well early last week, with many guides reporting four to six fish a day, according to guide Andy Martin of Wild Rivers Fishing. The river hit 8,000 cfs on Saturday and was still over 5,200 cfs on Sunday. Steelhead season closes Friday, March 31. ELKS RIVER, Port Orford, Ore. Steelhead fishing was fair on the Elk last week. The river was 4.5 feet and green on Sunday.

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Travel blogger names New Plymouth his favourite

A worldwide travel creator has labeled New Plymouth the pleasant metropolis in New Zealand.

In a current blog submit from Dan Flying Solo, blogger Daniel James said the Taranaki city was “actually my favored town in Aotearoa

Don’t be one of the 98 consistent with the cent of international travelers that pass over this metropolis,” he stated.

While New Plymouth gives a great base I could not help however sense if the humans of Taranaki need to draw extra tourism, their infrastructure desires to enhance, that is in which that money elevating sports positive do come in handy,” he wrote.

The tour blogger admitted experiencing troubles with transportation, nightlife and a lack of sports to attract in and maintain site visitors.

Locations just like the Len Lye Centre and Pukekura Park had been referred to as marvelous factors of interest however also suppressed the metropolis from competing with locations like Rotorua or Queenstown due to the fact they had been loose.

There are regions within u. S . A . where you could stay a week and be quite busy,” James stated.

He stated visitors of comparable age, late-20s, wanted sports but those have been supported through tax sales.

And the place turned into now not yet prepared for mass tourism, which turned into “as much its charm as its thorn”, James stated.

“That is an early to bed, early rise kind of metropolis and it might not wreck your financial institution to take in on nature right here, which after feeling like this we of a has gutted your financial institution account, and then some is sincerely pretty clean.”

The vicinity’s 3 district councils are well aware of the infrastructure troubles and feature started out to collaborate on the imminent Vacation spot Strategy and Taranaki Regional Financial Improvement Strategy.

The brand new Plymouth District Council

(NPDC) has made steps ahead with the acquisition of a phase of land on the top of Mangorei Rd, with the intention to be used to construct a car park and toilets to deal with trampers on the Pouakai Crossing – touted as a stroll to rival the Tongariro Crossing.

NPDC has additionally these days released a $350,000 advertising campaign “to raise attention, spark off tour and lifestyle decisions and mission any old perceptions of the area,” NPDC spokeswoman Jacqueline Baker stated on the time of declaration.

  Nine Benefits of Web Blogging for Small Businesses

Small commercial enterprise owners often ask me, “Have to I create a blog?” Or say, “I am busy sufficient. And what Have to I write about?”

For my commercial enterprise, I’ve visible the distinction that blogging makes to constructing agree with, reputation, internet site visitors, and in the long run income. And I’m now not by myself. Customers inform me that they’ve generated business from running a blog because it’s an exquisite manner to introduce your services even as imparting honest and valuable statistics.

What’s blogging

The word blog is a brief shape for internet log and is an often up to date a part of your website. It’s miles a place to provide beneficial statistics associated with your commercial enterprise, industry, critiques and passions. It is essential to be normal and constant, but don’t the goal for an excessive amount of. Create the addiction of writing a simple blog publish according to week or month (or get a person to do it for you) and construct it from there.

Why Should I bother

Here are nine blessings of starting a weblog for your business. Pay particular interest to the bonus recommendations on the quit.

1. construct trust. Who do you do pick out to do commercial enterprise with

It is commonly humans or businesses which you realize, like, and trust. A weblog humanizes your brand through including your voice to troubles that your prospects care approximately. Showcasing your personality through your know-how and passions creates familiarity, so you’re at the vanguard of human beings’ minds after they select to buy.

2. Grow your target market. A blog can build your target audience even earlier than you have a commercial enterprise.

Once you have built a spot following, you can monetize your services and products.

3. Increase seek engine visibility and website traffic. Google loves the sparkling

Content material and rewards your web page with higher visibility. It is like fishing: You capture more with the quantity of hooks you placed within the water. So, the extra content material you create, the more pages Google can index for human beings to visit.

4. Role yourself as a topic count number professional. Insightful,

Excellent, useful posts increase your enterprise credibility. It is able to be well timed or information-related, which means you will get publicity for trending searches.

5. Marketplace research. you can ask for remarks within the feedback segment of your blog

This may improve your writing and provide valuable intelligence approximately what people need assist with. Armed with this statistics, you can create services and products that people sincerely need.

Consider Restoring A Vintage Chrysler, Plymouth, Dodge Or Desoto

Increasingly more antique Chrysler motors and vehicles are being rescued from fields, woods, junk yards and the crusher than ever earlier than.

The purpose for this variation inside the hobby is largely associated with the truth that as Fords and Chevy’s (yawn) are becoming fewer in numbers and sooner or later extra hard to locate in properly restorable situation, restorers, and road rodders are finding the vintage MoPars to be just the price tag for scratching the recovery/avenue rodding itch.

In this article, we will check the MoPars of the early to past due 1930s and evaluate them to their GM and Ford counter components.

From the beginning (1924), Walter Chrysler set out to build an advanced car and in step with that idea during his tenure because the ideal chief of the corporation that bore his call, he was certain to consist of matters that have been unusual for automobiles and vans in the low and mid-rate subject.

One such aspect becomes four-wheel hydraulic brake systems in every automobile and truck they constructed,

At the same time as the competition had been nevertheless the usage of mechanical brakes which required frequent adjustments and had been unreliable in terms of uniform braking of each wheel. whilst the more pricey and expensive vehicles of the day (Duesenberg, Packard, Cord, and so on.) used hydraulic brakes all round, GM and Ford did no longer change over till the middle to past due 1930s respectively.

Moving lower back to the 1930’s we find that with the quiet of the 1934 version manufacturing run, Chrysler had constructed the closing “Chrysler” badged car to use wood as a structural element because the 1935 model PJ delivered the generation of all-metal bodied low rate automobile. This kind of production became unusual for most motors at that point, however, exceptional in an automobile that bought for an insignificant $510 FOB. Ford and GM endured using wood for several more years.

The all metallic frame provided a more inflexible vehicle,

less at risk of frame flex on difficult terrain or roads and when coupled with the usage of leaf springs fabricated from “Mola” metallic, on an 113-inch wheelbase, the journey became easy and quiet.

Subsequently, the 1935 model brought the maximum advanced flathead six cylinder within the industry and Chrysler used this engine with fantastically few changes until it was changed with the aid of the slant six engine in 1960.

Rated at 82 HP it placed suit well between the Chevrolet six at eighty HP and the (large) Ford flathead V8 at eighty-five HP. Additionally, this new engine called the ‘L – Head’ Six had the most advanced cooling machine of any engine constructed at that point.

  How Can We Preserve Our Favourite Clothes

It is a common reality that whilst you’ve found something that you love to put on you strive your best to hold it as long as viable, however with our busy social lives this could regularly be a hassle. Every now and then we don’t have the time to provide them the care that they need, and when we’re in a rush we regularly chuck them thru the washing system without checking what else is lurking in the washing load. In truth, the actual washing system itself is one of the high indicators why garments become worse like they do, but we can not just prevent washing our clothes purely for hygiene reasons greater than anything.

So how do we lengthen the lifestyles of our favorite garments

Well as a start line, make certain that all fastenings are closed or concealed, that means zips need to be done up and any fastenings attached well. I made the mistake a few years returned to wash one in all my favored lace clothes with some undies geared up for an evening out, however, the bra hooks have been left uncovered and my little lace variety become in a state afterward.

Whilst washing big bundles via the showering system It is stated that it is better to scrub objects by means of cloth type and now not by their colorings. For example, silk items will final plenty longer if their washed with different silk items and are not washed with more hardcore materials like denim, which would additionally growth the possibilities of a zipper snagging the silk items. However despite the fact that there is lots of valid proof that this method works the fine to keep the manufacturing of the objects, it is able to also deter the color upkeep, so this rule wishes to be adapted similarly. It is common expertise that when comparable colors are washed together i.E.

Dark and Lighting this keeps the shade the maximum and it offers you peace of mind that you do not should fear about any rogue crimson socks turning all your clothes pink. But to the element in both of those factors would suggest greater time spent isolating all objects by using color and then by means of cloth. The majority don’t actually have enough time to devour breakfast let alone having the time to separate washing piles. It additionally method electricity and water bills might increase due to the quantity of washing cycles, which in retrospect may want to discern out quite steeply-priced.