#old mill dam

[bbhivemind]

Photo of some particularily artistic graffiti at Markle Mill; Terre Haute, Indiana

[rabbitcruiser]

World Industrial Design Day

Industrial designers envision products that fill homes, offices, hospitals, and schools. These visionaries serve diverse working environments and create innovations to help serve the leaders of the global economy.

They work tirelessly and out of sight to give people the best tools of the trade. World Industrial Design Day is a day dedicated to the industrial designers that create the vision of the future.

This holiday is for teaching people about the history of industrial design and potentially getting people interested in the profession.

Learn about World Industrial Design Day

World Industrial Design Day is a global day of observance whereby we celebrate industrial design, as well as the creation of the World Design Organization. World Industrial Design Day aims to increase awareness regarding working in industrial design, as well as championing the power of design in order to strengthen environmental, cultural, social, and economic development.

There are a number of different activities that take place around the design community in order to mark this day. This includes networking events, gallery installations, exhibits, design competitions, workshops, panel discussions, and much more.

Studying Industry Design

There are many different places that you can go with an industry design degree, however, most people aim to become an industrial designer. Industrial designers use digital, artistic, and engineering skills in order to create concepts and products that are based on the demands and wants of the clients.

Products need to be pleasing aesthetically, as well as reliable, user-friendly, safe, and practical. As an industrial designer, you could work on any type of product, ranging from automobiles to home appliances and furniture.

While becoming an industrial designer is the most obvious route for anyone that decides to study industry design, there are a number of other options as well. For example, you may decide to become an industrial design researcher.

This means that you are going to research the needs of the user, coming up with new suggestions and solutions for elements of design. For example, the products that you could research for include gadgets, electronic appliances, and websites. Other careers you may decide to move into include furniture designer, interior designer, event space designer, and automotive designer.

History of World Industrial Design Day

Industrial design is the profession of designing products for millions of people every day. Almost every product used in a person’s home today was invented by designers working hard to make sure that people can live their lives easier. The profession began during the early 19th century when the industrial revolution began in Britain.

The Great Exhibition was held in 1851 as one of the first exhibitions to showcase industrial design on an international scale, helping influence the United States in their mass production.

People such as Robert Lepper, Herbert Reed, Robert Venturi, and Joseph Claude Sinel have all greatly influenced the world of industrial design. They crafted effective equipment that has helped shape the modern generation. Cars, phones, toasters, you name it.

All of those products have touched the hands of one industrial designer to another, been thought over, and executed so you can have the best quality of life.

The first World Industrial Design Day occurred in 2007. This represented 50 years since the establishment of the World Design Organization. Back then, though, it was known as the International Council of Societies of Industrial Design (Icsid). Irrespective of the name, it has always been a worldwide organization, which is not tied to any governments, and promotes the industrial design profession, as well as the ability for better experiences, services, systems, and products to be produced.

It is all about better industry and business, helping us to ultimately create a society and environment that is better. When it was founded in 1957, there were 12 founding professional design associations. This has grown considerably over the years, with more than 170 members from 40 different nations. All of these organizations engage in collaborative efforts so that they have the chance to be heard around the world.

How to celebrate World Industrial Design Day

If you’re looking to celebrate World Industrial Design Day, then begin by attending an industrial design expo. Learn about some of the most influential industrial designers of the past and the most modern ones that are influencing our culture today.

Try your hand at designing yourself and pay attention to the products you use every day that you would normally take for granted. Share this information with friends and family and if you are an artist that loves design, then try your attempts at applying for a degree in industrial design and see where it takes you.

You can also spend your day looking online at some of the best examples of industrial design and delving deeper into how they were created and the thought process behind it. From the Mini Cooper and the Piaggio Vespa Scooter to the Curl Lamp and Coke Contour Bottle, there are many different examples of incredible and iconic industrial designs. You can share your favorites online via your blog or social media platforms in order to spread word about the day.

You can find yourself getting lost in research for hours and hours once you start researching industrial design, and it is certainly good to try and broaden your knowledge, right? Do let us know if you find any incredible industrial designs that you were impressed with!  

Source

[reasonsforhope]

For the first time in 100 years, Atlantic salmon are once again spawning in the upper waters of the River Derwent. 

The return of spawning salmon to the rivers of Derbyshire is a real conservation success story. After centuries of intensive river management by the county’s burgeoning factories, the fish were driven extinct in many of its waterways.

Since then, the health of some of the rivers have improved to an extent that salmon can once again spawn. But the routes for the fish to return are still blocked by the remnants of the industrial boom, with numerous dams and weirs still blocking the migratory route of salmon attempting to swim upstream.  

Dr Tim Jacklin is a Conservation Officer for the Wild Trout Trust who has worked on river restoration projects that encourage and helps the migration of fish such as the Atlantic salmon. He was involved with the removal of a weir at Snake Lane, Derbyshire, which allowed the salmon to recolonise the headwaters of the River Derwent.

The catalyst for this work was seeing salmon making it all the way up the River Derwent, but then being stopped from exploring the upper reaches where the river becomes the Ecclesbourne.

“We’d started to see large salmon turning up in the Derwent in winter,” explains Tim. “They became sort of local celebrities really. People were going out with their head torches at night and looking into the river, because it’s not a particularly large watercourse and these fish were quite literally as long as your arm, without it being an angler’s tale.”

“So they attracted quite a lot of attention. But it also highlighted the fact that Snake Lane Weir, which was a concrete structure that had been built in the 1970s to replace an old mill, was a complete barrier to fish getting upstream.”

This prompted the work to remove the Snake Lane Weir and replace it with a boulder rapid that the fish would, once again, navigate over and continue on their journey.

“It’s very rewarding,” says Tim. “We opened up a good ten kilometres of spawning habitat upstream, so that translates into hundreds more juvenile salmon that make their way downstream and hopefully to come back and spawn.”

Putting the river bends back in

A little further upstream on the Ecclesbourne River, the Derbyshire Wildlife Trust is working to continue the work started at Snake Lane. At the edge of a farmer’s field a deep, straight channel rushes along under the trees. This was created by diverting the river to increase its flow to power a mill using a weir. This has formed yet another barrier for the migrating salmon.

But not even 20 metres away the ghost of the river’s original route perseveres. Nothing more than a shallow, muddy ditch with a few scraggly trees overgrowing it, the bends and curves of the river’s natural path can still be seen forming the boundary of a field. 

The wildlife charity is now trying to undo the centuries of harm that bypassing the river’s natural route has done, with the hope that the salmon will travel even further up into the headwaters and spawn once more in the gravel of the restored river. 

“A lot of our rivers across the whole country have been straightened,” explains Jenny Kril from the Derbyshire Wildlife Trust. “Unfortunately, what that does is remove any sort of natural habitat that we would expect to see in a healthy river.”

“What we’re doing is re-wiggling or re-meandering the Ecclesbourne, which is essentially just putting the bends back into it. What that does is change the speed and flow of the water. It creates nice beaches and different habitats for a whole host of different species and just making the river more natural.”

It is hoped that this work will create a greater variety of habitats, which in turn will encourage a greater variety of plants and invertebrates, and so boosting the overall biodiversity seen in this section of the river. But the cherry on the cake would be if the salmon start nesting.

“Over the next few years, we’re going to see this whole area just continue to develop naturally,” says Jenny. “We’ll get some sediment being deposited on some of the beaches creating more habitats, and we’re going to do tree planting to further increase the biodiversity of the area.”

“We’re just going to hopefully watch it become the brand-new river and as it should be again.”

There is a long way to go to safeguard the future of the UK’s rivers, but the work on the Ecclesbourne is showing that with the resources and right interventions change can happen and improvements made.  

“I think we’ve got some huge challenges ahead of us, but you know, they’re not making rivers anymore,” says Tim. “So we’ve got to look after the ones that we’ve got.”

-via UK Natural History Museum, April 8, 2024

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Could you tell a gender-swapped version of The Giant with the Three Golden Hairs?

Hmmm I am not a fan of completely gender-swapping fairy tales without regard for narrative structure and I would argue that Joseph Jacob's The Fish and The Ring pretty much is a gender-swapped version of this tale type (and a fun one too!).

But I do have a soft spot for The Giant/Devil With The Three Golden Hairs because of the adaptation The Luck Child in Jim Henson's The Storyteller, so...

The Devil With The Three Golden Hairs

A fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm, retold by Laura Simons.

There was once a poor woman who gave birth to a little daughter; and as she came into the world with a caul on her head, it was predicted that in her eighteenth year she would have the Queen’s son for her husband.

It happened that soon afterwards the Queen passed through that village, and no one knew that she was the Queen, and when she asked the people what news there was, they answered, "A child has just been born with a caul on; whatever any one so born undertakes turns out well. It is prophesied, too, that in her eighteenth year she will marry the Queen’s only son."

The Queen, who had a bad heart, and was angry about the prophecy, went to the parents, and, seeming quite friendly, said, "You poor people, let me have your child, and I will take care of it."

At first they refused, but when the stranger offered them a large amount of gold in exchange, and they thought, "She is a luck-child, and everything must turn out well for her," they at last consented, and gave her the child. For if their little girl was truly destined to marry the Prince, perhaps she was likewise fated to be raised by such a grand and wealthy lady.

The cruel Queen put the baby in a box and rode away with it until she came to a deep piece of water; then she threw the box into it and thought, "I have freed my son from this unsuitable bride."

The box, however, did not sink, but floated like a boat, and not a drop of water made its way into it. And it floated to within two miles of the capital city where the royal family resided, to a spot where there was a mill, and it came to a stand-still at the mill-dam. A miller's boy, who by good luck was standing there, noticed it and pulled it out with a hook, thinking that he had found a great treasure, but when he opened it there lay a pretty baby inside, quite healthy and lively. He took her to the miller and his wife, and as they had no children they were glad, and said, "God has given her to us." They took great care of the foundling, and she grew up in all goodness.

It happened that once in a storm, the Queen passed by the mill and went into it. She asked the mill-folk if the cheerful youth who had gone to help with the horses was their daughter.

"No," answered they, "she's a foundling. Almost eighteen years ago she floated down to the mill-dam in a box, and the mill-boy pulled her out of the water."

Then the King knew that it was none other than the luck-child which she had thrown into the water, and she said, "My good people, could not your girl take a letter to the Queen? I will give her two gold pieces as a reward."

"Just as Your Majesty commands," answered they, and they told the girl to hold herself in readiness.

Then the Queen wrote a letter to the King, wherein she said, "As soon as the girl arrives with this letter, let her be killed and buried, and all must be done before I come home."

The girl set out with this letter; but she lost her way, and in the evening came to a large forest. She was not afraid, for no harm had ever come to her in her life that she knew of. In the darkness she saw a small light; she went towards it and reached a cottage. When she went in, an old man was sitting by the fire quite alone. He started when he saw the girl, and said, "Whence do you come, and whither are you going?"

"I come from the mill," she answered, "and wish to go to the King, to whom I am taking a letter; but as I have lost my way in the forest I should like to stay here over night."

"You poor girl," said the man, "you have come into a den of thieves, and when they come home they will kill you."

"Let them come," said the girl, "I am not afraid; but I am so tired that I cannot go any farther:" and she stretched himself upon a bench and fell asleep.

Soon afterwards the robbers came, and angrily asked what strange boy was lying there?

"Ah," said the old man, "it is an innocent child who has lost herslef in the forest, and out of pity I have let her come in; she has to take a letter to the King."

The robbers opened the letter and read it, and in it was written that the girl as soon as she arrived should be put to death. Then the hard-hearted robbers felt pity, and their leader tore up the letter and wrote another, in the exact same hand, saying that as soon as the girl arrived, she should be married to the Crown Prince at once. Then they let her lie quietly on the bench until the next morning, and when she awoke they gave her the letter, and showed her the right way.

And the King, when he had received the letter and read it, did as was written in it and had a splendid wedding-feast prepared. And neither the Crown Prince nor the foundling made any protestations, because the luck-child was honest and affectionate and the Crown Prince was as kind as his mother was cruel. So the two of them were married and they lived together in joy and contentment.

After some time the Queen returned to her palace and saw that the prophecy was fulfilled, and the luck-child married to her son. "How has that come to pass?" said he; "I gave quite another order in my letter." So the King gave him the letter, and said that she might see for himself what was written in it. The Queen read the letter and saw quite well that it had been exchanged for the other. She asked the youth what had become of the letter entrusted to her, and why she had brought another instead of it.

"I know nothing about it," answered she stoutly; "it must have been changed in the night, when I slept in the forest." But now she knew that whatever that first letter must have held, it would not have been good for her.

The Queen said in a passion, "You shall not have everything quite so much your own way; whosoever marries my son must fetch me from hell three golden hairs from the head of the devil; bring me what I want, and you shall keep my son." In this way the Queen hoped to be rid of her for ever.

The Crown Prince wept when he heard it, for he loved his young wife, but the luck-child answered, "I will fetch the golden hairs, I am not afraid of the Devil."

Thereupon she took leave of them all and began her journey. The road led her to a large town, where the guard by the gates asked her what her trade was, and what she knew.

"I know everything," answered the luck-child blithely, for so it goes with young people who know themselves for a fact to be blessed with good luck.

"Then you can do us a favour," said the guard, "if you will tell us why our market-fountain, which once flowed with wine has become dry, and no longer gives even water?"

"That you shall know," answered she; "only wait until I come back." Then she went farther and came to another town, and there also the gatekeeper asked her what was her trade, and what she knew.

"I know everything," answered she.

"Then you can do us a favour and tell us why a tree in our town which once bore golden apples now does not even put forth leaves?"

"You shall know that," answered she; "only wait until I come back." Then she went on and came to a wide river over which she must go.

The ferryman asked her what her trade was, and what she knew.

"I know everything," answered she.

"Then you can do me a favour," said the ferryman, "and tell me why I must always be rowing backwards and forwards, and am never set free?"

"You shall know that," answered she; "only wait until I come back."

When she had crossed the water she found the entrance to Hell. It was black and sooty within, and the Devil was not at home, but his grandfather was sitting in a large arm-chair. "What do you want?" said she to her, but she did not look so very wicked.

"I should like to have three golden hairs from the devil's head," answered she, "else I cannot keep my dear husband."

"That is a good deal to ask for," said he; "if the devil comes home and finds you, it will cost you your life; but as I pity you, I will see if I cannot help you." He changed her into an ant and said, "Creep into the folds of my coat, you will be safe there."

"Yes," answered she, "so far, so good; but there are three things besides that I want to know: why a fountain which once flowed with wine has become dry, and no longer gives even water; why a tree which once bore golden apples does not even put forth leaves; and why a ferry-man must always be going backwards and forwards, and is never set free?"

"Those are difficult questions," answered he, "but only be silent and quiet and pay attention to what the devil says when I pull out the three golden hairs."

As the evening came on, the devil returned home. No sooner had he entered than he noticed that the air was not pure. "I smell human flesh," said he; "all is not right here." Then he pried into every corner, and searched, but could not find anything.

His grandfather scolded him. "It has just been swept," said he, "and everything put in order, and now you are upsetting it again; you have always got human flesh in your nose. Sit down and eat your supper."

When he had eaten and drunk he was tired, and laid his head in his grandfather’s lap, and before long he was fast asleep, snoring and breathing heavily. Then the old man took hold of a golden hair, pulled it out, and laid it down near him.

"Oh!" cried the devil, "what are you doing?"

"I have had a bad dream," answered the grandfather, "so I seized hold of your hair."

"What did you dream then?" said the devil.

"I dreamed that a fountain in a market-place from which wine once flowed was dried up, and not even water would flow out of it; what is the cause of it?"

"Oh, ho! if they did but know it," answered the devil; "there is a toad sitting under a stone in the well; if they killed it, the wine would flow again."

He went to sleep again and snored until the windows shook. Then his grandfather pulled the second hair out. "Ha! what are you doing?" cried the devil angrily.

"Do not take it ill," said he, "I did it in a dream."

"What have you dreamt this time?" asked he.

"I dreamt that in a certain kingdom there stood an apple-tree which had once borne golden apples, but now would not even bear leaves. What, think you, was the reason?"

"Oh! if they did but know," answered the devil. "A mouse is gnawing at the root; if they killed this they would have golden apples again, but if it gnaws much longer the tree will wither altogether. But leave me alone with your dreams: if you disturb me in my sleep again you will get a box on the ear."

The grandfather spoke gently to him until he fell asleep again and snored. Then he took hold of the third golden hair and pulled it out. The devil jumped up, roared out, and would have treated her ill if he had not quieted him once more and said, "Who can help bad dreams?"

"What was the dream, then?" asked he, and was quite curious.

"I dreamt of a ferry-man who complained that he must always ferry from one side to the other, and was never released. What is the cause of it?"

"Ah! the fool," answered the devil; "when any one comes and wants to go across he must put the oar in his hand, and the other man will have to ferry and he will be free."

As the grandfather had plucked out the three golden hairs, and the three questions were answered, he let the old serpent alone, and he slept until daybreak. When the devil had gone out again the old man took the ant out of the folds of his coat, and gave the luck-child her human shape again.

"There are the three golden hairs for you," said he. "What the Devil said to your three questions, I suppose you heard?"

"Yes," answered she, "I heard, and will take care to remember."

"You have what you want," said he, "and now you can go your way."

She thanked the old man for helping her in her need, and left hell well content that everything had turned out so fortunately.

When she came to the ferry-man she was expected to give the promised answer. "Ferry me across first," said the luck-child, "and then I will tell you how you can be set free," and when she reached the opposite shore she gave him the devil's advice: "Next time any one comes, who wants to be ferried over, just put the oar in their hand."

She went on and came to the town wherein stood the unfruitful tree, and there too the gatekeeper wanted an answer. So she told her what she had heard from the devil: "Kill the mouse which is gnawing at its root, and it will again bear golden apples."

Then the watchman thanked her, and gave her as a reward two asses laden with gold, which followed her.

At last she came to the town whose well was dry. She told the guard what the devil had said: "A toad is in the well beneath a stone; you must find it and kill it, and the well will again give wine in plenty."

The guard thanked her, and also gave her two asses laden with gold.

At last the luck-child got home to her husband, who was heartily glad to see her again, and to hear how well she had prospered in everything. The King, too, was relieved to see his daughter-in-law safe and sound, but the Queen could barely keep her countenance when the girl brought her the devil’s three golden hairs.

When she saw the four asses laden with gold, however, she suddenly grew very pleasant, and said: "Now all the conditions are fulfilled, and you can keep my daughter. But tell me, dear daughter-in-law, where did all that gold come from? this is tremendous wealth!"

"I was rowed across a river,” answered she innocently, "and got it there; it lies on the shore instead of sand."

"Can I too fetch some of it?" said the Queen; and she was quite eager about it.

"As much as you like," answered she. "There is a ferry-man on the river; let him ferry you over, and you can fill your sacks on the other side."

The greedy Queen set out in all haste, and when she came to the river she beckoned to the ferry-man to put her across. The ferry-man came and bade her get in, and when they got to the other shore he put the oar in her hand and sprang out. So from that time forth the Queen had to ferry, as a punishment for her sins. Perhaps she is ferrying still? If she is, it is because no one has taken the oar from her.

[allmythologies]

day 8 of horror mythology: vodyanoy

vodyanoy is said to appear as a naked old man with a frog-like face, greenish beard, and long hair, with his body covered in algae and muck, usually covered in black fish scales; сonsequently, he is often dubbed "grandfather" or "forefather" by the local people. he has webbed paws instead of hands, a fish's tail, and eyes that burn like red-hot coals. he usually rides along his river on a half-sunken log, making loud splashes. local drownings are said to be the work of the vodyanoy. when angered, the vodyanoy breaks dams, washes down water mills, and drowns people and animals. consequently, fishermen, millers, and also bee-keepers make sacrifices to appease him. the vodyanoy would sometimes drag people down to his underwater dwelling to serve him as slaves.

[smalltall]

I listened to 'Butchered Tongue' and thought about my Irish great-great-grandfather. I thought about a movie I watched over twenty years ago--can't for the life of me remember the title--where a young Irish boy from my great-great-grandfather's time was forbidden from speaking his language by Catholic priests. When he disobeyed, the priests punished him with a tight collar of thistles that scratched and pierced his throat until he couldn't speak at all. I thought about how the Irish language leaps and ripples when spoken, appearing in my mind as a bright swift river. I thought of all the damage I've seen done to rivers--dams and factory runoff, discarded recliners. I remembered the goal I've had since high school to teach myself Irish Gaelic. I remembered the day I filled three trash bags by picking up bottles, cans, foam cups, license plates, chip bags, empty lighters from the riverbank near my house. I worked in the shadow of an old paper mill that had shat poison into this water for a hundred years. One of its drained chemical vats is a swamp now, and you can hear frogs singing up from the bottom. The river still had a few fish even when they could barely pass that slime through their gills; now, after a few decades of the mills standing empty, their numbers have grown. Riddled with PCBs and too toxic to eat, but they're here. Each year, more life. I'm learning how to sing Casadh an Tsugain phonetically. I don't know what the words mean yet but I'll practice until I can say them all. It's a start.

[galebrainrot2024]

Enemies to Lovers Part 35

Summary: Geez, can the two of them get on with it? I swear, who is this writer anyway. More angst, more pining, more hurt, which will make the inevitable all the sweeter. Gale just has a lot to say, okay?

Part 34 | Master List | Ao3

Gale rose well before his companions, the night riddled with anxieties of the past. It was all overwhelming - sharing his deepest shame and embarrassment, feeling consistently on display all the while weighing the pros and cons of being alive. 

It had been quite some time since he thought of that memory, let alone spoke it aloud. He was surprised by the power it still retained to make his skin crawl and stomach ache. All at once, he felt like that school boy again despite it being lifetimes ago. 

He had yet to decide if he would use the orb. With so much at stake, it felt almost trivial to have any sort of disagreement and hashing of old wounds with Tav. Without an alternative, Gale saw no other course of action. 

As he started a fire for his morning brew, a yawn emerged from the tent beside his. “You’re up early,” Karlach half whispered. She wasn’t known for being quiet so he appreciated the effort. He wasn’t ready to face anyone, especially not Tav. 

“No rest for the wicked,” Gale sighed the words; stirring the pot of boiling water aimlessly. Frequent, heavy sighs escaped his lips and his shoulders hunched. Scowling at the fire, he probed it to stoke the flames. The memory took more emotional toil than he anticipated, though he should have since it unearthed an entire trove of horrible recollections from youth his mind predominately glazed over. Not all at her hand, you see, but it released the dam so to speak. 

“You’re moody this morning.”

“Isn’t that my natural disposition?” Gale scoffed, and tried to shake off the brood that shrouded him in an endless stream of potentialities. 

“So… what was it you and Tav were going on about last night?” Although her voice rose as if it were a question, her tone revealed she likely knew. 

He shut his eyes and breathed through his nose, no longer staring the water. Gale hoped the conversation was discreet enough to not gain any attention. A foolish assumption, he realized. Considering how closely slept they all were and starved for mundane, run of the mill drama. Not world ending drama. 

Gale looked at her, his head tilted downward and he rose his brows.  Karlach bowed her head sheepishly. “Curiosity got the better of me.” 

“There’s no need to ask, then, if you are aware of the nature of the conversation.” Gales voice was cold, unlike his usual banter with her. He regretted the callousness and as if in retribution, the water spat at him, scalding the back of his hand. “Ah!” He shook his hand and put his finger into his mouth to cool the burn. 

“Alright, this calls for a good, old fashioned Cliffgate trick,” she huffed and pulled him into a too-tight hug, pulling her arms around him as if to squeeze the air from his lungs.

“What are you doing!” He hissed in protest, wriggling in her arms like a limp fish or child. He was no match for her strength. She squeezed harder, though, and Gale felt the tension melt from his body and his back made a THWAP. The relaxation that flowed through him was remarkable. 

“There.” She said, setting him back on the ground. Gale scowled but a grateful smile began to tug at him. “Between you and me, I would have done more than sabotage her presentation. By the sound of it, that wasn’t the only unnecessarily cruel thing she’s done.” Gale’s face burned and she sat next to him, resting a hand across his shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. “Remind me again why you are in love with her?” 

“I am not in love with her. Besides, even if I were perhaps it’s better the two of us stay distant acquaintances.” 

Karlach snorted, “Yeah, okay, and I don’t have a chamber for a heart. You’re clearly not sleeping at night, so you denying the inevitable isn’t helping matters.” 

“I’d rather not talk about this at the moment.” 

“I’ll tell you what, though, the Tav I’ve grown to know seems a bit different than the Tav in that story. Similarities, sure,” she said, hinting at the ring fiasco. “You’re also a different Gale than the one who destroyed her hopes of being Mystra’s chosen.” Karlach glanced around before continuing: “Not like she would have picked her anyway, she tends to choose young men for a reason.”

Gale’s face reddened both with anger and embarrassment. “I think I have a bit more merit than just being a man.” 

Karlach pursed her lips but let the matter drop as Shadowheart, Astarion, and Halsin made there way over, the drunkness of a salacious night clear on their faces. 

Gale rolled his eyes and retreated to his tent, lest the others have their own commentary on his past. 

*** 

“I feel like we’ve been searching for this Devil for hours,” Astarion whined, despite them having just left camp. 

“Maybe if you didn’t stay up all night squealing you would feel better rested.” Lae’zel muttered, “next time, I’d appreciate an invitation or for you to go off into the woods. You do offer yourself to many, I’m surprised you haven’t extended yourself to me yet.” 

Astarion mussed his hair and smirked, “Yes, an absolute mystery to be sure. You’re so.. warm and inviting.” 

“I suppose it will remain a mystery,” she said, his sarcasm lost on her. 

Gale lingered towards the back wanting as much space between him and Tav as possible. 

You see, besides the shame and suffering he endured at her hand there were just as many moments of her extended kindness. There was one year in particular when word spread how his father had left his mother and the rumors were rampant. None of them true and most of them ugly. He was sat alone, eating his lunch when another classmate came over and took it from his hands, threw it in the dirt and proceeded to stomp on it. Tav walked over cooly and proceeded to take them by the shoulder and give them such a shock their eyebrows fell out and they lost most of their hair. 

“Here,” she had said, offered half of her own lunch and sat beside him in silence, reading her own book. Once they returned to class, she continued to counter every comment he made and it was as if the extended kindness hadn’t happened. 

There were also plenty of times where she had supported his points, particularly when against their professors. If there was one thing he could rely on her for in class, it was being anti-authority. 

While lost in thought, he collided with Tav who turned to scowl. He didn’t realize she was mid-conversation with the very orthon they sought. 

“Wait.. quiet..” Yugir said, holding his axe in the air in aw. “It’s gone. The song.” 

Gale’s brow furrowed and he rocked on his heels. One more gem and they could be done with it. 

What he would have done for Mysytra’s forgiveness had this been over a year ago. He would have ended his life without a moments thought if it meant returning to her. 

Now, he was not so sure. 

On one hand, it would be the most simple solution to their predicament. What is one mortal life compared to the fate of Faerûn? More importantly, what was his mortal life compared to everyone else in Faerûn? 

Since being unsanctamoniously tadpoled, none of their abilities had returned to their prior glory. Gale grew frustrated each time he tried to recite a once familiar incantation for nothing to materialize. He was once Mystra’s chosen, an archmage, one who could cast Wish and fulfill anyone’s deepest desire. 

Now, he could hardly conjure a minor fey creature. It did give him some satisfaction that Tav had the same difficulty. His eyebrows shot up and he saw the plan materialize in his minds eye. 

A vision of he and Tav working on different spells and enchantments together in his tent, coaching one another. 

Why did he care to salvage whatever was there? Why did he love someone who so irrevocably damaged him in his youth? 

Perhaps it was foolish, to believe in the inherent good in others. He saw it, though, first hand in her. The ugliness, the beauty, the intelligence… the depth and magnitude of the human condition was no match for the emptiness of a God. 

Gale didn’t want to die. He wanted to believe there was another way, but he needed to be stronger. Less of a shell of a wizard of who he once was. 

He was pulled from thought as he crashed into Tav who was, apparently, knee-deep in a very serious conversation with Yugir. 

Yurgir sneered, clenching his fist, large enough to engulf both their heads. “That conniving sack of worms. I should have known. I should’ve ripped out Raphael’s tongue before he even spoke.” 

Ah, he must be mad about the rats. 

“Now, that’s no way to speak about your master,” Raphael materialized, clicking his tongue. His wrist flicked and he smiled, serpent like. “Here I am, tongue and all, precisely on time for a lesson in semantics. Devil’s in the details - you see - and the details are in the fine print. Nowhere does it stipulate you could sub-contract the last kill to the first adventurers that came trotting along. In short: You’ve breached the contract, my friend. Oh, dear.” 

Yurgir shook his head, “Back to the hells with our agreement! I have you, pay the debt and I will make this quick.” 

Raphael shot Yurgir a cunning grin, “Consider your position. You are about to forfeit what reputation you have left. No contacts. No fame. No power. You’ll be a streak of excrement even lemurs will slither from. Unless…” he examined his cuticles before ruffling his collar, “of course you consider my infinite mercy. A new contract. A chance to balance the books. Not to mention a welcome change of scenery.”

“Bastard.” Yurgir considered his position while the adventurers stood, waiting. “Fine, but no more songs.”

“What’s a contract without whimsy…” Raphael pouted then smirked, flicking his hand away, “Fine. No more songs. Off to the house of hope for cocktails and canapés - and a new signature on a new deal.” Yurgir vanished and Raphael turned to Gale, eyeing him up and down. Gale averted his gaze, goosebumps surfacing across his skin. “So unpredictable,” he said, tracing his fingers across Gale’s shoulders and he rolled them back, shaking him off. “I’ve underestimated you. I’m sure I will see you soon,” he grinned and was gone before they could blink. 

** 

After the hum of dinner subsided and their companions retired to their tents, Tav and Gale awkwardly circled one another like two lost planets. As he caught her eye, she would look away and then reversed. 

One by one the rest attended to their bedrolls and they rummaged around the fire. 

“I was wondering,” Gale startled hearing the sound of his own voice, the silence that crept earlier put him in an almost meditative state.  “If you’d want to put our worms together, so to speak.” He tapped a finger to his temple then his brow furrowed. As he watched Tav’s face flash with disbelief, curiosity, and then fear he held up both his hands and shook his head. “No! Not literally. I appreciate my privacy and don’t need anyone, lest of all you poking about in there.” 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well. Just to clarify. What I mean to suggest is… well, neither of us are as magically adept as we ought to be. As much as Tara has been a help to me, coaching in magic is a nonstarter for us.” He took a deep breath and stared into her eyes, almost embarrassed to be asking. “Would you like to practice? Together? Just… we’re up against so much being able to wield a fireball or conjure an ice storm would be helpful in a pinch. And, there have been quite a few of those.” He was rambling, knew he was rambling and yet he couldn’t stop. “We’ve been in our fair share of those to date thus far and I foresee many more in our future.” 

“Does this mean you don’t plan to use the orb?” The question caught him off guard and he blushed, surprised by the way she was looking at him. By the way she asked, how her voice faltered, rose as if… 

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Do you wish to practice with me or not?” 

“Can you please answer my question?” her hands flung to her hips and she cocked them, protesting. 

“Gladly.” He leaned forward, crossed his arms and nodded once. “As soon as you answer mine.” 

[charlieslowartsies]

focusing today on anything feels impossible and my brain is chewing itself from the inside out. while weds are normally writing days, i cant even focus on that long enough to say so.

either way, have a snippet from Days of Thunder, which is the next oneshot for Another Five Nights 2 from the knight guard au:

New Jersey had Camp Crystal Lake. Utah, Hurricane had Camp Tall Pines and was centered near a smaller, man-made lake controlled by a dam. Granted, there was no monster in this lake, Jason’s mother wasn’t going to jump out at them, and Tall Pines was likely half the size of Friday the 13th’s beautiful, sprawling campsite. 

But they had walked to Tall Pines in only a day, arriving just after the sun managed to hit the top of the sky above behind the thick, white clouds. This was as much distance as he could put between him and his home, the Diner and his father and crumbled remains of any family they had.

Michael peered around, but to his relief the camp was closed up and quiet for the season. It must have been later in the month than he thought, which was sobering. 

Scraptrap had followed faithfully, never complaining or anything. 

“Let’s get inside, quick. I’m fucken exhausted.” Michael declared, then grabbed Scraptrap’s arm before he could get too far away. “No! Not those ones, they’re too small, c’mon. The mess hall has to be somewhere. We can hide in it easier, just in case…”

It was more in the middle of the camp ground than Michael would have liked, but he tried not to worry about eyes on them. The place was popular during the height of summer, but it was so small and old it often shut down before Labor Day, and well before kids even had to worry about returning to school. 

It was quiet, save for the chitter of invisible birds and Michael felt like there were ghosts of former campers milling around, doing their little activities and being kids and having fun. 

Michael spotted the thick padlock and chain and balked, rubbing his hands nervously on his stained jeans. He tugged at it once, but of course it did not give. He failed to notice Scraptrap’s full attention on him as he did so. 

“Damn.” The zombine sighed, drawing back. “We need to find another way in–shit, jesus christ!” 

Because Scraptrap had spotted the lock too. But rather than thinking about another, more subtle way in, simply gabbed the chain in both paws and wrenched with a terrifying display of brute strength. 

The chain slithered to the floor and Scraptrap tugged the yellow door open, then turned to Michael with an expectant stare as if to say, ‘Well? Aren’t we going in?’

Not for the first time Michael overlaid words that he thought Scraptrap would be saying if he could speak. 

“Uh….r-right. Thanks, Scrap.” He muttered without thinking, and moved past Scrap before he caught the animatronic’s clear look of delight at being praised. 

“It’s gunna get cold in a few weeks, and then it’s gunna get colder. And then it’s gunna snow.” Michael said as the two slunk through the dark old building. The generator was obviously off, but checking the drawers revealed candles and flashlights and some matches. 

Scraptrap chittered back, more interested in opening the empty fridges and freezers as if he was hungry and searching for food. Michael was convinced he was exploring, or even just copying the dead teenager like he had been doing since they woke up in the back alley of Fredbear’s Diner. 

“Hey, Scrap. Eyes on me–” He was rewarded with the instant snap of glowing optics on him. He held up his findings, “Get me more of these, yeah?” 

In the end, they found enough supplies to last them a while, provided they rationed and accepted that most time would be spent in the dark together. 

It was a week later that Michael realized he was able to see in the dark as well as Scrap who had glowing optics to guide them.

Michael wasn’t sure why he had the ability to. He tried not to let it bother him. After all, it had its usefulness.

**********************************************************

It was starting to think those Memories things that belonged to Technician, but the whole process was incredibly slow and filling in along random spots. Gaps were still wide and broad. It likened the process to [MEMORY TRANSFER] and left the strange shifting alone to go at the speed it wanted.

It was forever learning, drinking in as many sights and and sounds as its processors could handle without overheating. 

The world was so big and brand new.

Unwilling to miss a single moment of this strange Newness, [SPRINGBONNIE002]’s AI had clumsily begun labeling, assigning, and reassigning terms as needed. It was a slapdash, messy sort of organization that would have fascinated both of its two programmers. 

For example, it was [SPRINGBONNIE002] but it was also “Scraptrap” or “Scrap” when [TECHNICIAN: MICHAEL AFTON] addressed it. 

[TECHNICIAN: MICHAEL AFTON] was also “Michael” and “Suit” according to some new programming it had unearthed in itself and was running off of. 

It had also labeled a new title over its technician’s name, a tertiary term that was simply ‘Mine.’ Technician belonged to [SPRINGBONNIE002], this was a fact like the [SKY] being [COLOR: BLUE.] 

It knew [COMMAND: EYES ON ME] was the order for it to stop what it was doing and turn to face Technician. 

It never needed to be taught [COMMAND: FOLLOW] because that was an easy one. It was still working on obeying [COMMAND: DO NOT FOLLOW] because this one did not make sense and seemed very wrong.

[TECHNICIAN: MICHAEL AFTON] found [WHITE SQUARE] in a large [BUILDING] named [ARTS AND CRAFTS]. He also seemed very pleased at finding [COLORED STICKS] and had sat down in the [MESS HALL] by the window with the most light coming in. 

He was talking as he sat there, bent over and animated about something. 

[SPRINGBONNIE002] strayed from its technician’s side but did not head out of eyeline. Technician did not stop it. This was an allowed action. 

[SPRINGBONNIE002] strayed a bit farther, keeping one ear trained on Technician out of reflex and enjoyment. 

“–drawing us a map, so you can find your way back if ever get separated. It’s gunna look like shit but it’ll get the job done I hope. Remember, you do NOT approach anyone ever, you stay hidden and out of sight…dammit, broke the red crayon…” and things like that. 

A familiar [RULE] it had already cataloged. [RULE #8: STAY OUT OF SIGHT] was easy enough to follow. But Technician seemed to find it important to state a lot. It considered replacing this one with [RULE #4] which seemed useless.

[SPRINGBONNIE002] changed [COLORED STICK] to [CRAYON] after glancing at Technician when he cursed softly. It also changed [WHITE SQUARE] to [MAP] as it did not comprehend things could have multiple names yet. It had barely grasped the concept of Itself and Technician having dual roles and titles. 

Whenever Technician made a noise that meant he was disgruntled, alarmed or shocked something interesting was always going on. 

[SPRINGBONNIE002] knew better than to exit the building they were in. Even if Technician hadn’t, straying out of sight where it could not see its familiar, animated Technician was not advisable. 

(The Animatronic didn’t quite have the word for it yet, but not knowing where Michael made it feel …uneasy. Frightened.) 

It was still working on applying strong, inarticulate things such as Emotions to Itself. 

[SPRINGBONNIE002] pawed at [DRAWER] and studied the brass curved thing. It found remarkable ease to slot its right paw through the hole between brass and drawer, the same as it found it easy to remove the [LOCK] preventing them from being inside when Technician wanted them to be inside. 

It did not understand before but it understood now, being inside [MESS HALL] made Technician more at ease and less panicked. These were all good things. 

[SPRINGBONNIE002] pushed on the [DRAWER] and stared, optics cycling. Pushing didn’t work. 

It tugged right. Then it tugged left. Both attempts yielded nothing. 

“You gotta pull on it, dude.” Technician informed, and received a blank stare in reply. His mouth did that funny thing, where it went wider and showed white squares. “Pull, like tug your arm toward yourself–” 

[SPRINGBONNIE002] glanced over its shoulder and then back down to reaffix its cameras on the [DRAWER]. It worked its jaw slowly, processing over these instructions and comparing with what it had tried. Oh. Well. That logic made sense, alright.

Servos cranked, metal joints shifted.

Technician wanted [FLASHLIGHT] and [WHITE LONG STICKS] and [VERY SMALL WHITE BOXES] for some reason.

[SPRINGBONNIE002] yanked. The [DRAWER] opened. 

It went flying downwards and slammed into the tile, causing Technician to startle and yell and the items inside to spill across the floor. [SMALL SILVER TOOLS] clattered every where.

[SPRINGBONNIE002] blinked. 

It had gotten the [DRAWER] open though. 

[lulu2992]

Uncovering the unreleased Far Cry 5 in-game Encyclopedia

The almost complete but unused in-game encyclopedia, reconstructed thanks to the oasisstrings file.

Please note that it’s still cut content, so some information might not be relevant anymore.

You can read the oasisstrings file here. Pictures from this encyclopedia were also extracted and posted by @xbaebsae here.

Part 3: Locations - Whitetail Mountains

PIN-K0 Radar Station

Part of the Pine Line early warning system, the K0 facility was shuttered in the early 90's and left to the elements.

Rattlesnake Trail Bridge

A footbridge along the Makwa Trail, it connects one side of the gorge to the other, like bridges are supposed to do.

Snowshoe Lake

A clear glacial lake high up in the Whitetail Mountains. The water is always near freezing which makes skinny dipping a terrible idea.

Hunter’s Pass Shelter

A remote cabin used as a place to warm up or stay the night by hunters.

Ozhigwan Falls

One of the highest in the area, Ozhigwan falls is one of the natural wonders of the Park.... just don't step too close.

Jefferson Lookout Tower

A watch tower in the middle of the forest, meant to keep an eye out for forest fires or bears... or bears on fire.

Whitetail Park Visitor Center

It's where you'd go to find out what's going on at Whitetail Park, back when it was operational.

Hawkeye Tunnel

A tunnel through the mountain that offers a bird's eye view of the valley below.

Whitetail Park Ranger Station

The Ranger Station that patrols the Whitetail Park to keep it safe back when it was still open.

McKinley Dam

Named after the 25th president of the United States, McKinley Dam is used to regulate water and supply power to the people of Hope County.

Jacob’s Armory

Jacob has converted part of the McKinley Dam power station to be used as sanctuary against the coming apocalypse.

Grand View Hotel

The historic hotel in the Whitetail Mountains it was once the crown jewel of the park. Financial problems shut it down in the 80's. It's been empty ever since.

North Park Entrance

The Northern most entrance to Whitetail Park, abandoned now that the park is closed.

Bo’s Cave

A renown survivalist, Bo lives deep in forest. He is completely off the grid with none of the comforts of modern life.

Cooper Cabin

Another cabin that can be rented at Whitetail Park. Lately has been used as a safe-house by the Whitetail Militia.

Red Tail Cabin

A cabin in Whitetail Park that Eli's Militia use to take refuge from the constant attacks from Jacob's patrols.

F.A.N.G. Center

Friends of the Animals Nursing Grounds is home to Cheeseburger the Bear. Feeding times are 12:00 and 6:00 daily.

St. Francis Veteran's Center

A medical center for returning veterans, St. Francis was shuttered in the 90's when a more modern facility was constructed in a nearby county. When Eden's Gate moved in, Jacob found use for it as a place to indoctrinate his new recruits.

Lansdowne Airstrip

A small airstrip used by the locals for shipping in supplies and sightseeing tours.

Elliot Residence

Home to Rick Elliot and his family, one of the last people to holdout against Jacob and his army.

The Grill Streak

When Chad's diner was burned to the ground he retreated to his food truck. He still works hard to find food for Eli and his Militia.

Breakthrough Camp

A camp where parents sent their rebellious youth in order to get a taste of clean, wholesome outdoor living.

Old Sun Outfitters

The main supply store for camping and survival gear in the area. Seeing the writing on the wall, the owners closed shop and left while they still could.

Baron Lumber Mill

The Baron family lumber mill was already failing financially when Eden's Gate moved in and bought it out.

McNeill Residence

This house once belonged to the McNeill family before they were deemed sinners in the eyes of the cult and were forced to flee.

Linero Building Supplies

A small building supply store that sold lumber and materials. The owners ended up joining Eden's Gate, though not all of them willingly.

Haskell Lookout Tower

A watch tower overlooking the north region of the Whitetail Park.

Fort Drubman

Pretty much all the Hurk Sr. has left after his divorce from Adelaide. It's from here he runs his senate campaign with the dubious help of his son, Hurk Jr.

MCA Mobile Lab

A mobile lab where the Montana Conservation Authority conducts research on the local flora and fauna.

Loresca Residence

Former residence of Jay Loresca, former Navy Seal. Rumor has it he joined the Whitetails, but it's certain that he’s long gone.

Whitetail Mountains Rail Bridge

A bridge connecting the Henbane River and the Whitetail Mountains. It's been out of use ever since the Copperhead Rail stopped running.

Elk Jaw Lodge

Part of the Whitetail Park the Elk Jaw Lodge was a nice place to relax near Silver Lake. Now... not so much.

Wolf’s Den

The secret bunker of the Whitetail Militia, home to Eli, their leader, as well as Tammy and Wheaty.

Oberlin Picnic Area

A nice place for a group to sit down, eat, and take in baseball game at the nearby diamond.

Osprey Cabin

One of the many cabins that visitors can rent at Whitetail Park. Named after birds of prey, thy are the perfect hiding places for Eli's Militia.

Kestrel Cabin

One of the handful of individual cabins available to rent at Whitetail Park.

Mansfield Lookout Tower

An abandoned fire watch tower overlooking the southern region of Whitetail Park.

Frank’s Cabin

A cabin owned by a recluse known as Lonely Frank. He seems to like it that way.

Dansky Cabin

This is where Dicky Dansky comes to write his books about Sasquatches, Bigfoot, and other cryptids.

Valley View Overlook

A place for visitors to stop and take in the view of the forest below.

Stone Ridge Chalet

High up on a rocky ridge is a Chalet where hunters and park visitors could come and warm up.

Silver Lake Parking Lot

A nice place to stop and take a refreshing dip in nearby Silver Lake.

Clagett Boathouse

A boathouse and docks maintained by the Old Sun Outfitters.

Salvage Camp

A small camp where a salvage company is attempting to recover items from the wreck of a sunken plane

Dylan’s Master Bait Shop

In case you needed some fishing pointers... Dylan will likely just point you somewhere else.

Langford Falls Parking Lot

A spot for visitors to pause and take in the beauty of the nearby Langford Falls.

Widow’s Creek

One of Skylar's favorite fishing spots. She'll probably tell you where it got its name.

Fowler’s Retreat

A not-so-secret place where Dave keeps all of his extra Cheeseburger merchandise.

South Park Entrance

The southern enterance to Whitetail Park. Once the gem of Hope County, it has seen better days.

[vaguelyoriginaldrivel]

RANDOM TOWN GENERATOR

My longest-running campaign ended this year. Granted, that’s not saying much - only ran 9 sessions, started last fall, but still as of yet the only real “campaign” I’ve ever ran. Was some sort of “urban fantasy” thing, players a bunch of wizards (and one giant shrimp-man) driving around some undefined region of the USA in an again undefined recent past… though near the end I think I’d decided on it being set in Pennsylvania? Definitely a learning experience in a lot of ways for me, regardless. Anyways here’s some tables I made for it

Town name (d10):

Washington

Franklin

Chester

Dover

- 10. [random - roll prefix, suffix]

Prefix (d12):

Spring

Hill

Glen

George

Kings

Green

Arling

Clay

Ash

Gold

Mill

Fair

Suffix (d6):

field

lake

hill

view

ton

-Town

Notable Feature (3d10): 1-3. Can’t be rolled on a 3d10

Ignore everything else - this isn’t an ordinary small town, it’s a neo-nazi cult compound. They have guns and they don’t like you

Historic building - Weird modern house - all pods, steel, fiberglass, and concrete, with spherical pods covered in pods. Abandoned.

Ruins - Abandoned Shopping Mal

Speed trap town - local cops lurk on the side of the highway, entire town economy based on speeding tickets. Basically operates on piracy. Absurdly low speed limits not properly demarcated

Weird art installation - field of sculptures (d4 - abstract metal, cobbled-together trash, stone statues of animals and people, monoliths with inscriptions)

Historic building - haunted mansion, old style - wood, maybe some stone

Notable dam overlooking the town, potentially vulnerable to failure

Ruins - Abandoned Factory

College town - small local college dominates the local economy, most residents are students or staff

Tourist trap - Historic house (d4- Rotting wooden mansion with a ghost story, old colonial stone fort, weird modern house of a dead eccentric rich guy/ weird cult leader )

Large immigrant population from a distant country (ie not part of the Americas- like Kazakhstan or Swahililand or Lichtenstein, not like, Colombia)

Oddly high concentration of a hyper-specific specialized type of business - an entire district of dentists or dog groomers or something

Not a full on cult compound, but much of the town’s population do follow a specific esoteric cults religion like scientology or sedevacantist mormonism or something

Birthplace of some celebrity, statue in town square proclaims as much

Tourist trap -Giant sculpture, gift shop (d4 - historic figure, giant animal, mascot of attached restaurant, dinosaur(young-earth creationist))

Historic building - old colonial fort, earthworks and stone and wood

Geography - Subterranean water (1d4 - Hot spring, bottomless pit in a lake, water-filled mine pit)

Geography- Big rock (d4 - Balancing rock, weird outcroppings (like fang ridge nevada), meteor (in far-off museum, there’s a plaque next to the crater though), butte)

Geography - Weird Cliff (1d6: columnar jointing, waterfall, petroglyphs, looks like a face, church built into it, odd color)

Retirement community, no children whatsoever and everyone is either a senior citizen or a caretaker

Odd museum - animal (1d6- snails, songbirds, butterflies, earthworms, leeches, mice)

Odd museum - human (1d6- finger, ear, spleen, tongue, nose, lip, nail)

Odd museum - local cryptid (1d6 - sasquatch, lake monster, grey alien, weird alien (ie flatwoods), hodag, giant toad, devil)

Religious - large megachurch, drawing in the faithful from across the state

Weird art installation - small grove with (d4 - dollheads hanging from the trees, extensive etchings onto the bark, geometric statues in between the trees, the trees coated in colorful yarn)

Ignore everything else - this isn’t an ordinary small town, it’s some kind of hippy commune or cult compound or something. Either pseudochristian or pseudodharmic, flip a coin

Special - roll on Supernatural table

(intentionally weighted to be biased more towards the middle but I didn’t really check the probabilities here, might be way too hard to get the ones at the further poles)

Extra: Supernatural element. (d4)

Entire town was replaced with body-snatchers a few years ago. They’ll try to keep you in town for a few days - constantly surveilling you, in order to grow a body-double - when they’re done they’ll try and kidnap you to replace you with it the next time you wander away from the group. Body snatcher type varies - (Fae-esque boogeymen cuckoo-bird shapeshifters, pseudo-plant pod people, 1979 Alien style androids, etc)

Recent sightings of some kind of cryptid or something has drawn droves of “cryptozoologists” to town. This is a problem because some of you are cryptids. Coinflip if the cryptid in question is real or not

Entire town stuck in groundhog day loop - the US military has caught on and is using the town as a testing-bed/training site. Just like groundhog day, there’s one guy somewhere in town originating the loop - kill him or put him to sleep and it resets - make him learn the error of his ways - or keep him awake til midnight - and the effect ends permanently. The feds know about this, first thing they do every loop is send their special ops guys to bag him and hide him in a van before they start the raid in earnest. Outsiders, like you and the special ops guys, can enter the loop - no matter what happens, when the loop resets you’re plopped back outside right where you entered in exactly the state you were then except for your memories - even if you died you’re revived.

Certain nights, at the witching hour (12-1), local monsters and spirits and such emerge and walk the streets openly - certain stalls and shops pop up in areas that are normally unused, catering to this strange clientele, and others who sell mundane wares during the day reveal their magical affiliations at night. Also there’s street performances, music and dances and parades - and games, dangerous ones - ones you can join. The rest slumber on, but the magic that keeps them asleep does not apply to you. As magicians and cryptids yourself, this could be a good opportunity, but not all the spirits who’ve emerged are peaceful.

this is what the map of the actual campaign ended up looking like at the end btw

[notwiselybuttoowell]

California’s Yurok Tribe, which had 90% of its territory taken from it during the gold rush of the mid-1800s, will be getting a slice of its land back to serve as a new gateway to Redwood national and state parks visited by 1 million people a year.

The Yurok will be the first Native people to manage tribal land with the National Park Service under a historic memorandum of understanding signed on Tuesday by the tribe, Redwood national and state parks and the non-profit Save the Redwoods League.

The agreement “starts the process of changing the narrative about how, by whom and for whom we steward natural lands”, Sam Hodder, president and CEO of Save the Redwoods League, said in a statement.

The return of the 125 acres (50 hectares) of land – named ’O Rew in the Yurok language – more than a century after it was stolen from California’s largest tribe is proof of the “sheer will and perseverance of the Yurok people”, said Rosie Clayburn, the tribe’s cultural resources director. “We kind of don’t give up.”

For the tribe, redwoods are considered living beings and traditionally only fallen trees have been used to build their homes and canoes.

“As the original stewards of this land, we look forward to working together with the Redwood national and state parks to manage it,” Clayburn said. “This is work that we’ve always done, and continued to fight for, but I feel like the rest of world is catching up right now and starting to see that Native people know how to manage this land the best.”

The property is at the heart of the tribe’s ancestral land and was taken in the 1800s to exploit its old-growth redwoods and other natural resources, the tribe said. Save the Redwoods League bought the property in 2013 and began working with the tribe and others to restore it.

Much of the property was paved over by a lumber operation that worked there for 50 years and also buried Prairie Creek, where salmon would swim upstream from the Pacific to spawn.

Plans for ’O Rew include a traditional Yurok village of redwood plank houses and a sweat house. There also will be a new visitor and cultural center displaying scores of sacred artefacts from deerskins to baskets that have been returned to the tribe from university and museum collections, Clayburn said.

It will add more than a mile (1.6km) of new trails, including a new segment of the California Coastal Trail, with interpretive exhibits. The trails will connect to many of the existing trails inside the parks, including to popular old-growth redwood groves.

The tribe had already been restoring salmon habitat for three years on the property, building a meandering stream channel, two connected ponds and about 20 acres (8 hectares) of floodplain while dismantling a defunct mill site. Crews also planted more than 50,000 native plants, including grass-like slough sedge, black cottonwood and coast redwood trees.

Salmon were once abundant in rivers and streams running through these redwood forests, But dams, logging, development and drought – due in part to the climate crisis – have destroyed the waterways and threatened many of these species. Last year, recreational and commercial king salmon fishing seasons were closed along much of the west coast due to near-record low numbers of the iconic fish returning to their spawning grounds.

The tribe will take ownership in 2026 of the land near the tiny northern California community of Orick in Humboldt county after restoration of a local tributary, Prairie Creek, is complete under the deal.

A growing Land Back movement has been returning Indigenous homelands to the descendants of those who lived there for millennia before European settlers arrived. That has seen Native American tribes taking a greater role in restoring rivers and lands to how they were before they were expropriated.

Last week, a 2.2-acre (0.9-hectare) parking lot was returned to the Ohlone people where they established the first human settlement beside San Francisco Bay 5,700 years ago. In 2022, more than 500 acres (200 hectares) of redwood forest on the Lost Coast were returned the InterTribal Sinkyone Wilderness Council, a group of 10 tribes.

The ’O Rew property represents just a tiny fraction of the more than 500,000 acres of the ancestral land of the Yurok, whose reservation straddles the lower 44 miles (70km) of the Klamath River. The Yurok tribe is also helping lead efforts in the largest dam removal project in US history along the California-Oregon border to restore the Klamath and boost the salmon population.

The Redwoods national park superintendent, Steve Mietz, praised the restoration of the area and its return to the tribe, saying it is “healing the land while healing the relationships among all the people who inhabit this magnificent forest”.

[csny]

Alaska: Igloo, Kodiak bear, Iditarod sled dog race, Denali

Hawaii: pearl harbor, pineapple

washington: Space Needle, apple, mt st helens, rainier national park

oregon: roses, lighthouse, crater lake, oregon trail, hiking

california: redwood tree, white water rafting, gold, golden gate bridge, silicon valley, yosemite national park, wine country, sierra nevada mountains, hollywood, joshua tree

nevada: silver, las vegas strip, hoover dam

idaho: gemstones, potatoes

montana: rocky mountains, glacier national park, grizzly bear, bison

wyoming: yellowstone national park, old faithful geyser, bucking bronco

utah: great salt lake, zion national park, skiing

arizona: lake mead, grand canyon national park, montezuma castle, turquoise, saguaro cactus

new mexico: pueblo, yucca plant, carlsbad caverns

colorado: rocky mountain national park, columbine flower, elk

north dakota: oil, wind energy

south dakota: crazy horse memorial, the badlands, mount rushmore

nebraska: chimney rock, bald eagle, train

kansas: tornadoes, dodge city, sunflower

oklahoma: tomato, wheat, osage shield

texas: cattle, prickly pear cactus, oil refinery, the alamo, NASA Johnson space Center

Minnesota: lake of the woods, wolf, deer

iowa: prairie grass, corn

missouri; Hog, gateway arch

arkansas: razorback hog, banjo

louisiana: crayfish, mardi gras, jazz music

wisconsin: dairy

illinois: Willis tower, tractor, lincoln

michigan: copper, iron ore, automobile manufacturing, motown

indiana: Car

ohio: Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, tires

pennsylvania: street mill, liberty bell

new jersey: constitution

maryland: blue crab

virginia: mount vernon

north carolina: wright brothers national memorial, tobacco farm, great smoky mountains national park, appalachian mountains

south carolina: fort sumter

georgia: peanuts, peach

florida: oranges, kennedy space center, alligator, everglades national park

alabama: cotton, civil rights movement

mississippi: magnolia

tennessee: country music

kentucky: horse racing

west virginia: coal

new york: apple tree, financial market, statue of liberty

massachusetts: american revolution

vermont: maple syrup

new hampshire: fall colors

maine: acadia national park, moose, lobster

And don’t make me repeat it!!!!!!!

[lobstertalesblog]

The Old Grist Mill Tavern, Seekonk MA.

This tavern has great history and is a relic of Pre-Revolutionary New England, which was built in 1745. The power by the dam and the old water wheel was used to grind the grain raised by nearby colonial farmers. Today, the Old Grist Mill is a traditional New England tavern. This tavern is known for great food, everything from steaks to some of the freshest seafood dishes in all of New England. They are known for their Crab Cakes and the Baked Stuffed Jumbo Shrimp. I ordered the lobster roll, Connecticut style, with butter. The entrees also come with a great salad bar that I filled up on!

The lobster roll I had was very good. I thought the amount of meat on the roll was a good amount too. The bun was cooked perfectly, giving it a great crunch. I do wish there was more butter on the lobster roll. I did hear they have a Lobster Festival in the summer so I am hoping I will be able to go to that 🦞

The more lobster the better 😉

Based on the presentation and taste of the @ogmtavern lobster roll I would rate this roll a 8 out of 10.

[tinycoded360]

In the darkness, I could use a little company chapter 9

Chapter 9: Trouble at the Dam

The crumbling walls of the Carter Hydro Dam loomed around Will as he carefully picked his way through the ruined facility. Will's boots crunched on debris as he swept his flashlight beam over the remnants of control panels, gauges, and pipes, their usefulness long decayed. Mackenzie had survived being dragged to the old bear's lair and even managed to kill the huge bear. With the old bear no longer a risk to them, Jeremiah had plotted a course for them out of Mystery Lake. Jeremiah had directed them to the old hydro Dam with a code to the control room so they could contact Perseverance Mills and be one step closer of getting out of this mess.

Will had been successful in getting into the control room and sending a signal out. Will took a few more cautious steps forward, sweeping his flashlight across the crumbling interior of the dam. His flashlight only worked because the aurora was bright in the sky tonight. It greatly puzzled him as to why any electronic only worked now on nights where the bright green aurora was present.

Suddenly, Sage felt the pocket jerk violently as Will cried out in surprise. She was flung against the fabric as he crashed to the ground. Terrified, Sage peered out and saw a dark figure looming over Will's motionless body.

Rough hands grabbed Will and dragged him across the gritty floor. Sage clung desperately to the pocket as it swayed and bounced. Who was this new threat? Where were they taking her and Will?

When the movement finally stopped, Sage cautiously poked her head out. Will was slumped in a chair, his hands bound behind his back. A menacing man paced before him; his face lost in shadow.

Will's head throbbed as he slowly regained consciousness. Blinking against the harsh light, he realized he was tied to a chair in the middle of a dimly lit room. Across from him paced a tall, man. He wore a sheepskin flying jacket over an orange prison uniform. His hair is short, graying dirty blonde, brushed back.

"Welcome back," the man sneered. "My name's Mathis. Hmmm.... a locked case? That is interesting. A locked metal case…is a thing of the old-world stranger. It’s of things being off limits.”

Will stiffened, remembering the locked case Astrid had insisted on bringing along. He had no idea what it contained, only that she had been adamant about keeping it safe.

Mathis pulls back his arm and punches Will in the face. Sage clasps her hands over her mouth, to muffle a scared cry. She ducks down into Will’s pocket, hiding herself from the scary human.

“I was a part of that world, but that world is over now. This is MY world now, and in MY world, I make the rules.”

Mathis pulls back his arm again and hits Mackenzie in the face. Causing him to grunt in pain. Sage is terrified, she is curled up in the corner of Mackenzie’s pocket. She clasps her hands over her ears, trying to block out the violence.

“Your world sounds crazy.” Mackenzie manages to reply.

“What is in the case?”

“I have no idea.” Will said firmly. Inside his pocket, he felt Sage trembling against his chest. He desperately hoped she wouldn't make a sound. As much as it hurt, he had to keep Mathis' attention on him and not let him discover the tiny girl's presence.

Mathis grabbed Will by the throat, his fingers digging painfully into his skin. "What is in the case?”

Will struggled against his grip. “I hope it’s painkillers.”

Mathis lets go and paces in front of Mackenzie. “Your ID says you’re a pilot, you have a plane somewhere.”

“My plane wouldn’t do you any good.” Mackenzie truthfully stated.

“Do you want me to show you, what happened to the last person to lie to me? She didn’t look so pretty after I was done with her.”

“She?!” Will asked in worry, his thoughts raced, hoping this ‘She’ was not Astrid, he’d kill this man if he laid a hand on her.

“So now he’s ready to talk, well don’t worry pilot, you’ll be with her soon.”

With that Mathis picks up a metal tool and smacks Mackenzie in the head with it, causing the pilot to fall unconscious.

Inside the pocket, Sage's tiny heart hammered against the fabric walls that sheltered her. Her only comfort is the rise and fall of Will's chest. Even though he’s not moving, and he’s been hurt, he’s still alive. Sage stays as quiet as she can, as she feels Mackenzie’s body being lifted and carried. Sage has come to trust Will with her life, but she does not want this new human to find her. She shivers as she hears other male voices. She buries her face in the fabric around her, trying to smother her quite sobs. 

[cowplantfever]

This big  beautiful repurposed container home sits at the base of the Croftville Dam. This container home was built with a family in mind. There is plenty of space to move things around to make this home loveable for your family. 

-Type: Residential 

-Lot Size: 30 x 20

- Rooms: 3 BA 2 BR

- World: Evergreen Harbor

-Location: - The Old Mill

-Price:  §120,119

- Playtested & Functional 

ALL BUILD AVAILABLE IN GALLERY EA ID:IAMDJ864

SPEED BUILD:

Packs:

Expansion Pack: Cottage Living, Eco Lifestyle,Get Together, City Living, Seasons, Snowy Escape, High School Years, Cats & Dogs, Get To Work

Game Pack:, Dine Out, Dream Home Decorator, Werewolves, Strangeville

Stuff Pack: Tiny Living, Cool Kitchen 

Kits: Blooming Room, Industrial Lofts

TOU: DO NOT REUPLOAD OR CLAIM AS YOUR OWN

PLEASE MAKE SURE  bb.moveobjects, bb.showhiddenobjects and bb.showliveeditobjects, bb.ignoregameplayunlocksentitlement ARE ENABLED BEFORE PLACING THIS LOT.

HOW TO USE MY FILES:

Download & unzip the .zip file

Copy the files contained within this folder into the Tray Folder (C:\Users\*YourUsername*\Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 4\Tray)

Launch The Sims 4

Find the perfect lot for the build

Enable bb.moveobjects, bb.showhiddenobjects and bb.showliveeditobjects

Open the Game Library

Check "Enable Custom Content" (Advanced section on the left hand side at the bottom of the filter options)

Find the build and place on the lot.

ENJOY PLAYING!

Dag Dag!

SFS| Patreon

[pcttrailsidereader]

The Ghosts of Kentucky Camp

"Deep in the heart of the Santa Rita Mountains lies a ghost town called Kentucky Camp.  It was once a bustling mining town, abandoned after a freak accident that killed the lead mining engineer.  Some say the town is now haunted by the ghosts of the lead engineer and miners who lost their lives.  The locals say that on quiet nights you might hear the sound of pickaxes and shovels coming from the hills, but be warned, if you hear the sound of a lone miner's whistle, you certainly are not alone."

Dave Baugher, a regular contributor to this website, started his multi-year thru-hike of the Arizona Trail this year. Dave estimated that 30 percent of those on the Arizona Trail had either left the PCT or altered plans to walk the PCT because of the epic snowpack on the PCT. This story is based upon a stop early in his Arizona Trail walk.

Ever see a ghost fly?  No?  How about a man about to become a ghost as he "flew" off the third story of a newly constructed hotel in Tucson, AZ?  No?  Neither have I.  However, my buddy Ed and I spent some time in the old gold mining town of Kentucky Camp.  Let me tell you about the "Ghosts of Kentucky Camp."

Gold.  The yellow metal has driven men mad, sent conquistadores over the oceans, and even led to war between nations.  However, much of the gold on Earth is thought to have been incorporated into the planet since its very beginning, as orbiting debris formed the planet's mantle early in Earth's creation. 

About 55 million years ago, during earth movement and mountain building, hot solutions bearing gold and other minerals worked their way into the faults and fissures of folded and compressed rock.  Later, these mineral-laden veins eroded along with the host rock,  freeing the gold.  Long before any people arrived on the scene, water and gravity began the gold-milling process better than any human invention carrying and concentrating small particles of gold along the bottoms of streams and gulches.  These are placer deposits: water-laid sand and gravels that contain eroded and redeposited particles of valuable minerals.

Gold was discovered in the Santa Rita Mountains in 1874.  In the following years, up to 500 miners worked in what became known as the Greaterville Mining District.    Early on, the miners had to haul their pay dirt to the few running streams in the area or haul bladders of water to their claims on the backs of pack animals.  At first, this laborious effort was worthwhile, but by 1886 the easy pickings played out, and most miners moved on.

In 1902, a charismatic California mining engineer, James Stetson, had an idea to solve the water problem.  He believed collecting seasonal runoff into a nearby reservoir would be possible, thus creating a permanent water source and making placer mining again profitable.

Stetson sold his idea to investors and formed the Santa Rita Water & Mining Company.  Kentucky Camp in the Santa Rita Mountains was the Company's headquarters.  It was an attempt to get the land to give up its gold with placer mining.  That process, successful in California, uses water cannons to break up desert hillsides so gold can be washed out and recovered in sluices, a sort of industrial-sized gold panning.  Stetson believed the California process would work in Southern Arizona.  Californian George McAneny put up $150,000 to get things started in 1902 and was made president of the new Company, with Stetson as the manager.

Stetson designed a dam near three streams with over eight miles of pipe and ditches to get the water to the mining site at Kentucky Gulch.  A company office building, a house for Stetson, a barn, and two other buildings were constructed.  The 40 to 100 workers lived in a nearby tent camp, and the operation opened in 1904.

Unfortunately, it all washed out.  Only about $3,000 was repaid to McAneny, so a meeting was called in Tucson on May 22, 1905.  McAneny and several other stockholders were to meet at lawyer Samuel Kingan's office.  However, around 3 o'clock the afternoon before, a maid working on the 2nd floor directly below Mr. Stetson's room heard a thud on the windowsill of the room she was cleaning.  She went to investigate.  She leaned out her window and saw Mr. Stetson's dead body on the concrete sidewalk below.  Stetson mysteriously fell, jumped, or was thrown from a third-story window of the Santa Rita Hotel and died.  The truth of his death was never determined.

McAneny's health and finances fell apart after that day.  He got divorced and claimed that ghosts were ever after him.  He died in 1909.  The Santa Rita Water & Mining Company ended, and the land was used by ranchers.  Kentucky Camp was abandoned in the mid-1960s, and the U.S. Forest Service took it over in 1989.  

Renters around the ranch sometimes report ghostly noises, and a ghost-hunters group has spent time documenting the strange happenings in the cabins.  But seasoned visitors say it is mice in the place and skunks making a winter den under the house near the propane heater that account for the mysterious night sounds.  A resident jaguar living in Santa Ritas may also visit the area.

On the hot afternoon of Friday, March 31, 2023, Ed and I dropped our packs on the covered porch of Mr. Stetson's house.  There was water for us to fill our bottles, electricity to charge our electronics, and displays describing the past history of Kentucky Camp.  I'll be honest, we did not stay too long.  There were still miles of trail ahead before we could call it a day.  However, we enjoyed the shade, and several other visitors joined us on the deck to cool off from the sun. 

Ghosts?  We did not see or hear anything that afternoon.  Later, camped by a small lake, Ed and I talked about the place, and we both thought it might be exciting to return to in the future.  Calling it a night, we dove into our tents as the cold chilly wind ran down from the Santa Rita Mountains high above our camp.  Tired, I did hear things in the evening twilight.  Shovels and pickaxes?  No.  Whistles?  You could say that the cooing of doves in waning light or the soft chirps of quail in the brush might resemble a whistle as I drifted off to sleep thinking about the ghosts of Kentucky Camp.