#poptree

[sauntering-down]

It’s sometime later – minutes, hours, he can’t tell – when he hears a funny sound somewhere close by.  Black, but blacker than the insides of his eyelids.  It oozes across his vision in great big dollops every time the… comm beeps, that’s it.  Cal’s thoughts are struggling through poptree syrup to reach him.  He’s sleeping, so he’s not going to answer it.

next chapter of 'insomniac' is up. :)

[cookiefessions]

[rabidrabbitpics]

As part of the #hopeoftheafricantree project a new chapter has been started, Tree Art. Here one of the first to take on the challenge to showcase her drawing skills (of course way better than mine) to tell a story of why she sees trees as an important part of life and a vital component of life on Earth today. #treeart is a way to reach the younger generation to share a great story to get them well rooted onto conserving our remaining natural infrastructure. #treeoflife #trees #tree #art #artwork #naturecalls #children #environment #nature #future #creation #education #poptree #rainforest @travelafricamagazine @empowersafrica @afrikainpictures @artnewsafrica @arochasa @arochaint @wwf #rainforestalliance #greenpop #forest (at Bent Fork Country Kitchen & Crafters Corner)

[creepycreepyspacewizard]

Fluff starters: “Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”

This first morning in over two months that he didn’t have to be up in time for alpha shift. The bed was soft underneath him, Kylo was warm against his back, the room was dark and peaceful. It was heaven. 

Hux dozed, drifting almost in time with Kylo’s breathing, determined to savour the quiet even if his internal clock had woken him earlier than he might have liked.

“Mew?” 

Or maybe something external had woken him after all.

Behind him Kylo tightened his arm and snuggled closer.

“Mew?!” This time the little noise was accompanied by the sound of claws on plasteel. Millie wasn’t used to the bedroom door being closed, or breakfast being late.

He sighed. Well, all good things came to an end.

“Don’t get up,” Kylo muttered against his neck, setting all the little hairs at his nape on end. “I’ll do it.”

Hux considered arguing, but it was warm in the bed and he was oh so comfortable. “Her food is in the cupboard by the conservator, don’t give her more than...”

“Don’t worry, I can feed a cat!” Kylo laughed as he rolled out bed. “Lights 20%.”

“Hmm, lights to 45%, I want to enjoy the view.” Hux corrected, then whistled when Kylo obligingly wiggled his ass on his way out the door.

Millie paused to meow her disdain at his subpar cat parenting skills before trotting after Kylo with her nose in the air. 

“Fussy monster,” he said to the ceiling as he stretched and settled back into the soft mattress.

He could hear Kylo padding around the neighbouring room. His footsteps were surprisingly light but his position was easily given away by Millicent’s constant stream of complaints. Soon her meows and squeaks were joined by a monologue of his own.

“Okay, kitty, calm down, I’m going to feed you, come on, I can’t open the door if you’re leaning on it, no that won’t get me to move faster... don’t climb in the bag! For fucks sake... okay, yes, I know that’s your bowl, just... just let me... no... don’t...”

There was a crash as if a few hundred dried pellets had been scattered across the kitchen floor.

“Why did you put your head in the bowl right when I was pouring the food? Huh? Furry little idiot, there’s food all over the floor now. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not picking it up. You made the mess. You’ll just have to eat it where it landed. I’m going to go keep your daddy occupied for a few hours, all this food had better be gone before he gets out of bed, you hear me?”

“Mew!”

“Good cat.”

Hux just managed to cover his smile with his hand as the door opened again and Kylo came back through in a weird sideways motion that was clearly meant to block Hux’ view of the rest of his quarters.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, fine!” Kylo said a little too quickly. Hux had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “I thought we could have breakfast in bed.”

“Really?” Hux was a little disappointed. That didn’t sound like the plan Kylo had just been discussing with the cat.

Kylo held up a bottle. “I thought I’d start with a mouthful of you drizzled in poptree syrup? A delicious way to start the day.”

That was more like it.

Fluff Starters

[epigon-apokrif]

The liquid trees of the Haunt were revered for their bitter, sour taste only. Harvesters would embark upon thousand-mile journeys annually, tin cup firmly grasped. "Treat your girl like a poptree - let it flow freely and let it blossom." Or something like that, like they say. Overfarming caused many droughts in recent years, and evaporation has been steadily increasing since the early 3020s. The Great Flood of 2870 caused many bubbles to burst and as such resulted the Northern Taste Mix. Vanilla, chocolate, and punch are still ominously intervowen, with some sages advocating that indeed, the flow-roots also mixed. Today NTM has become a commodity, mostly serving lower-class dietary and seasoning needs.

The liquid economy is staggering, with sour accounting for only twelve point ninety-eight per cent per ounce of all scoops in the Haunt. Scoopers have tried different mug shapes and materials ad infinitum. Water glass No One, Wine Blossom Two and The Shot have all become integral part of the market. Still, tin mugs with handles are the most practical of all. They can be easily used to capture the wet, liquid flames of the Aarai. Like every child knows since preschool: just scoop and droop.

Foreigners might be scarcely acquinted with this Geodesian custom, but here's a brief. When you approach an Aarai or a cheap Pop, hold your coffee mug or plastic cup firm but light. Slowly turn it top to bottom. Hold it over a friendly tree branch. Wait for the flame to curiously explore the inner parts of the cup. Use a quick, firm, but not too aggressive downwards scooping motion to tear the young membrane and then hold your palm over the hole of the mug.

Congratulations, you have just secured a taste of biological fantasy, a natural soda pop.

Some sages argue that the trees - amber, crimson, emerald, colors galore - are the result of a chemical accident or warfare dating back to the twenty fifth century Before Dawn. Certain schools of thought - formerly known as 'saabreddyds' in proto-angloeuropean - go as far as to describe them as nanobots. Legend says, our ancestors developed high science and created a solution to repress world hunger. The self-replicating bots turned carbohydrates and organic matter into FRESH FUNKY SODA POP - POW POW ONLY SIX THIRTY NINE PELLETS BUY NOW - into the belowed fizzy and still bubbly trees we all love.

This is of course childish fantasy suitable for 'seyans fekshen mevies'. We all know soda trees have evolved naturally over two millennia, and are the result of meteorites exploding in the ocean at terminal velocities. The resulting heated liquids became electrolytes and began expanding. Being the closest relative of humans, they are the source of life. They are not sentient. They do not feel pain. They are like mushrooms, another interesting, yet painfully neglected meteorite species that became history during the Great Extinct.

Nevertheless, liquid trees are here to be enjoyed, and we can all use a sip. Cheers!

Igen, nem tudtam aludni.