#powdered sea horse

[drtyfiction]

IMAGINE [1/2]

Oliver Quick x Y/N (she/her) Saltburn spoiler alert!!

It's already quite late when Oliver wanders around the exterior of the house, wearing his white embroidered suit and deer antlers on his head. He chugs down something that burns his throat and gazes at the crowd, searching for any familiar faces. Among the sea of people dancing, drinking, vomiting and chatting about some uninteresting futility, he found none. All the oblivious, hollow, inconvenient figures who don't know him, who don't care for him and who don't show him any respect, expose him to the lack of admiration they bring as a gift on his birthday. He stares at the bottom of the now empty plastic cup and sighs softly. Even when everything seems to be turning out exactly the way Oliver had intended, and even when everyone seems to have gathered exclusively for him, he still feels lonely. A man wearing a horse mask approaches, but Oliver doesn't get startled. - Hello Farleigh. - How did you know it was me? Farleigh removes his mask, exposing his slightly sweaty skin from the heat of the muffled costume, his delicate eyes and his voluminous hair, still impeccably tidy despite the headpiece that had been pressing it down until then. - Signet ring. - God. You really notice everything, don’t you? Oliver faintly grins and Farleigh catches sight of his pale blue eyes, which are dimmed by the low light in the room. Farleigh is able to read him a little better than most ordinary people. Perhaps because, after all, he's not that ordinary either. - Have they seen you yet? - Oliver asks. - Not yet. - Farleigh says, indifferently. They're alluding to your friend Venetia's family, with whom you've been living for some time. Farleigh removes the lid from a small container he carries in his pocket, pours a bit of white powder over the back of his hand and sniffs. - Yeah, they’ll go ballistic. - Oliver adds. - I doubt it. Y/N invited me on everyone's behalf. - This time, it's Farleigh who flashes a tiny grin at the corner of his mouth. Oliver frowns and stares at him for a second. He can't hold back an unanticipated reaction and utters an astonished "Oh" sound. In a vague attempt to correct what could be interpreted by the other person as frustration, Oliver releases a low, uncomfortable laugh, attempting to appear calm. - God, the look on your face. - Farleigh bursts into a loud, deep laugh. - What do you mean? She can’t have invited you. - The look on his face is a blend of sternness, confusion and disappointment. - You know, Oliver, I thought you were cleverer than that. Y/N invited me because she wanted to. They want me back, after all. She wants me back in Saltburn. - And why would she want that?

[Continued in part 02]

[whencyclopedia]

Siege of Detroit

The Siege of Detroit (15-16 August 1812) was one of the first major actions of the War of 1812. After a botched invasion of Canada, a US army retreated to Fort Detroit, where it was besieged by British and Native American forces under Major General Isaac Brock and Shawnee chieftain Tecumseh. The Americans quickly capitulated, leaving Detroit in British hands.

Background: March to Detroit

By April 1812, war between the United States and the United Kingdom seemed just over the horizon. On the high seas, British warships had been boarding American merchantmen and impressing American sailors with impunity, while on the northwestern frontier, British agents were believed to be aiding two Shawnee brothers, Tecumseh and the Prophet, in their attempt to form a Native American confederacy and resist US encroachment onto their hunting grounds. In Congress, a clique of belligerent, newly-elected representatives – called 'War Hawks' – clamored for war, despite the reluctance of the general population and the underpreparedness of the military. To prepare for a conflict that seemed increasingly likely, the administration of President James Madison looked to shore up defenses in the northwest, where the US shared a border with British-controlled Canada.

As part of this plan, the Madison administration ordered a new army to be raised in the Michigan Territory and then marched to the outpost of Fort Detroit. William Hull, the 59-year-old governor of the Michigan Territory, was commissioned as a brigadier general and offered the command. Hull, a veteran of the American Revolutionary War, was reluctant to accept – he had, after all, recently suffered a stroke – but his fear of an increase in Native American attacks against Michigan settlers led him to take the command. On 25 May, Hull arrived in Dayton, Ohio, where his makeshift army was being assembled, and was dismayed at what he found. The volunteers were noisy and undisciplined, lacking adequate arms or powder. Organized into three militia regiments, the volunteers insisted on electing their own officers. As such, the men they selected as colonels – Duncan McArthur, James Findlay, and Lewis Cass – were all either politicians or aspiring politicians, men with no military experience.

After a botched army inspection in which Hull was nearly flung from his horse, the army of Ohio volunteers set out on 1 June. Proceeding at a slow pace, they reached the frontier community of Urbana ten days later, where they were joined by Lt. Colonel James Miller and a regiment of regulars, the 4th US Infantry. At Urbana, some of Hull's volunteers refused to go any further, claiming that they had not received the full pay that had been promised to them. Though they were eventually prodded along by Miller's regulars, it was not a promising start. A few days later another incident took place when one militiaman, drunk on moonshine, was startled by a noise in the dark and shot one of his fellow sentries. The man was promptly court-martialed and given the "grotesque sentence" of having his ears cropped and each cheek branded (Berton, 94). The army then marched into the Great Black Swamp, northwest of Ohio, where incessant rainfalls had overflown streams and turned the ground to mud. Meanwhile, they were, unbeknownst to them, being closely watched by Tecumseh's scouts, hiding amongst the trees.

On 26 June, Hull received a letter from the US Secretary of War dated 18 June, warning him that war was imminent and ordering him to get to Detroit "with all possible speed". On 1 July, Hull reached the mouth of the Maumee River where he hired the schooner Cuyahoga and loaded it with anything that was slowing the army down, including his personal dispatches, officers' baggage, extra uniforms, medical supplies, and around 30 sick men. The Cuyahoga then sailed into Lake Erie to transport the supplies to Detroit. The next day, Hull received a second letter from Washington, also dated 18 June, informing him that war had been declared, but it was too late to recall the schooner. As it attempted to enter the Detroit River, the Cuyahoga, carrying Hull's dispatches, was captured by a Canadian vessel. On 5 July, Hull finally reached Detroit, where he was joined by several companies of Michigan militia, bringing his total number to about 2,500 men. Hull, whose army was running dangerously low on supplies, had hoped to find food in Detroit but was disappointed.

Continue reading...

[delightingintragedy]

Various Uses for Fossils in Magic from Wisht Waters by Gemma Gary

"Sea fossils, as well a guarding against drowning, had other protective uses. The fossils of sea urchins, or Echinoids, were employed for a variety of protections. Upon these fossils, one might find a star-like pattern, very reminiscent of the 'daisy-wheels', which one might find inscribed into the timbers and masonry of ancient buildings, most likely for apotropaic purposes. Their folk names include shepherd's crowns, thunder stones and fairy loaves. They protected against thunder, evil spirits and witches, prevented milk turning sour, and in common with other fossil amulets, they sweated in the presence of poison. As 'fairy loaves' they might be used to ward off supernatural interference from the baking process, and to ensure an abundance of bread."

pg. 104

"Belemnite fossils, from an extinct squid-like creature, were known as thunderbolts, and were thus kept as charms to protect against lightning. Once believed to be the tongues of ancient serpents, fossilised shark teeth were one of the fossil amulets against poison"

pg. 104

"Rings of stone, formed from the fossilised stems of the sea-lily were known as St Cuthbert's Beads, as were worn as amulets against evil influences."

pg. 105

"The 'Devil's Toenail' fossils were carried as charms against rheumatic pain, and they were powdered to be used in the treatment of soreness of the back in horses."

pg. 107

"Various accoutrements of the sea witch's divinatory work may be seen in the Museum of Witchcraft. Here we find that belemnites were employed by a Newlyn sea witch named Nancy. She would read the fall of her 'sea stones' to make predictions for fishermen. Perhaps their traditional association with lightning gave belemnites the virtue to make predictions regarding storms and changes in the weather?"

pg. 108

[...] There have been many ways to bless, consecrate and 'sain' water, thus rendering it more potent and useful within various rites and magical operations. This might be achieved by steeping or immersing charmed items within the water, or else allowing water to flow or be poured over such an item. These may include charm-stones, fossils, flints, or the metals gold and silver.

pgs. 115-116

"Ammonite fossils were also employed as charm stones to cure cattle in 17th century Scotland. They were known as 'cramp stones' because cattle afflicted with cramp would be treated by being bathed in water in which a 'cramp stone' had been steeped for a number of hours."

pg. 122

[starfirewildheart]

Scars and Souvenirs 

Chapter 2

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 2,324

Rating: NO MINORS, NSFW under cut. Police yourself please, mentions of war, being a POW, death and animal abuse. A little more detail in this one. More abused animals rescued all happy endings I promise.

Sy texted Debbie for the tenth time. His Ma was still talking and didn't look to be slowing down anytime soon and he didn't want her doing all the work herself.

Sy: Sugar, come back to the house. Ma's still ramblin' a mile a minute and showing no signs of slowin' down. Got steaks marinating for dinner. We can put the round bales out tomorrow and I'll help you finish brushin' everyone down then.

Deb: You spend time with your mom. I got dis! I have one more thing to do and then I'm comin' to the house. I haven’t been alone all day anyway. I have a friend.

Sy: oh?

(Not my dog or my pic)

Deb: she said you better have some steak for her too!

"Austin, are you listening to me?" Sara Syverson scolded.

"Sorry," he told her sheepishly. " I'm trying to get Deb to stop for the day. She's been out there for hours."

"Well honey it's hard work taking care of animals, she needs to know that."

Sy's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "What?"

"This animal rescue stuff is all her idea. She's spending your money and using you as a workhorse," she fussed. She loved her son and it broke her heart to see him used like this.

"Wait just a minute here, ma. I don't know what you're going on about but you are very wrong! This ranch was my dream and I asked her to join me.  When we heard about the horses being abused and sold for meat we BOTH wanted to rescue them, not just her." He moved to sit by her on the soda and took her hand. "I don't know why you don't like her or what's going on with you but you're blaming her for things that aren't her fault."

"You are with her 24/7. Is it too much to ask that you spend some time with your momma?" 

Sy cringed, "No of course not. I'm sorry," he hugged her as he tried to blink the tears from his eyes. "I never realized," his breath caught in his throat. "I'll do better, I promise."

The screen door banged open and Aika came bounding in jumping up on Sy sensing his anxiety. Debbie came in a few seconds later. "Wheew it's hot out there." She stopped in her tracks as she picked up on the heaviness in the room. "Is everything ok?" 

"Yea," Sy got up and hugged her. "We've just been catchin' up." She gave him a concerned look but didn't push. "Will you fix your famous potatoes for the grill before you take a shower sugar?"

Deb laughed. "Are you trying to say I smell, Sir?" She teased as she headed to the kitchen squeaking when he playfully smacked her ass.

"Ya reek sugar," he smirked as he got the foil out for her.

She could feel Sara's eyes on her as they moved around the kitchen, perfectly attuned to each other without even having to speak. She scrubbed her hands good then put some butter in a dish to melt in the microwave before moving to the sink to scrub the potatoes. Once that was done she retrieved the melted butter and started tearing off sheets of foil for each one. Brushing the potatoes all over with the butter  she then sprinkled them with sea salt, Italian herbs, garlic and onion powder then wrapped them all up tightly. "You sure that's all you want me to do?"

"Affirmative, get outta here." He smacked her ass again then grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against him kissing her when she started to walk away. He took advantage of her soft gasp and deepened the kiss exploring her mouth and getting lost in the feeling of her pressed tight against him. They both nearly jumped out of their skin when his mom's voice rang out loudly. Deb hid her flushed face against his neck.

"It's getting late. Shouldn't you be starting dinner?" Sara sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm gonna go clean up," She said, still blushing wildly. She didn't miss the disapproving look Sara shot her as she rushed out of the room.

~~~~~~♡~~~~~~

Sy watched as Deb flopped face first across the bed still fully dressed. He toed off his boots and laid down on his back beside, her resting his hand on her ass. 

" Mmmmm mmmmhm hummm." He laughed, "can't understand you with your face smashed in the mattress sugar." She turned her face toward him. "Your mom hates me"

"No, it's not you sugar, it's me. She's not been the same since I got stateside," he shrugged. "Guess her baby boy is too broken now." If the word 'D'fuq??' had a face Debbie was using it on him now and he couldn’t help the big belly laugh that escaped him.

"Austin Lee Syverson, that woman loves you more than life itself." She got to her hands and knees and straddled him pressing soft kisses on his lips and jaw. "And you, my love, are not broken. You are handsome, loving, passionate, strong, a leader, a hero." She punctuated each word with a kiss or a nip to his neck as she reached under his shirt and lightly ran her nails over his chest and stomach.

"Fuck", Sy moaned as she ground her core against his now hard bulge. "Way too many clothes," he growled before quickly stripping them both. This time he crawled on top of her with a wicked grin. He kissed his way down her body only stopping when he reached her shaved mound. "Mine," his growl was possessive. Since his return he was extremely possessive of her and didn't want anyone else even near her. He wanted the world to know she was his so he had started marking her by sucking or biting places and today it would be here.

He bent her legs and pushed them up to her chest, opening her beautiful flower to him. "So wet for me sugar. Look at you, already clinching, needing my cock."

"Please Sy," She mewled as she bucked up trying for his touch.

He quickly thrust three fingers knuckle deep into her while taking his left hand and exposing her hidden pearl before diving in and licking and sucking it.

"Oh fuck! Sy!" She circled her hips thrusting against his hand and mouth seeking that pleasure starting to build in her belly. The scruff on his face was leaving beard burn but she didn’t care Sy's mouth was a national treasure and the way he used suction and even a light scraping of teeth could make her cum in an instant. "Oh god!" She reached down and pushed his face harder against her throbbing pussy fucking up against his face until she cum with a scream, her body clenching and quivering, her legs shaking. As the throb started to die down she felt Sy's teeth sink in gently against her bare mound marking her causing her to his and yelp.

He licked the mark he'd made to soothe the ache before placing a kiss on the red mark already forming then crawled back up her body. "Mine."

"Only yours, always," She pulled him into a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue.

He kept her legs hitched up by his arms and rubbed his cock over her still sensitive folds before he started pressing inside her. They both moaned at the sensation."So fuckin' tight. Your body is made for me, sugar. Fits like a fuckin glove."

Debbie clinched around him as he filled her almost to full, the final push making her feel like she was going to burst leaving her panting. "So big baby. So full." She was beyond the ability to string words together at this point much less form sentences.

Always the best at what he does, Sy moved slowly at first. Slow, languid thrusts while he circled his hips. After her third orgasm clamped down on him he couldn’t hold back any more and started pounding into her. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wet sound of her juices leaking out around him and the cock drunk look of bliss on her face and he felt his balls start to draw up tight and his dick swell even more. "One more sugar. Give me one more. I wanna feel you milking me when I cum!" Reaching between them he started rubbing her clit and soon they were both falling apart crying out each other's names as he collapsed on top of her. He laid there a minuet before slipping out of her and rolling to his side pulling her against him. "I love you."

Deb snuggled to his side and pressed a kiss to his chest. "Love to Sy."

~~~~~~♡~~~~~~

A few days had passed and things were normal on the ranch. Deb had been researching an upcoming auction while Sy was trying to find a home for a mare and her foal that were ready for a family. "The Winston's are going to take them," he smiled happily.

"That’s wonderful. Their little girl will have a ball with the foal."

He walked over to her desk and sat on the edge of it. "Any prospects? "

"A few, sadly. There are a lot of rumors about a stallion that was beaten and abused to the point no one could even approach him then left uncared for. I read that his hooves are so overgrown they are curled around his feet."

"Damn," he shook his head. "I'll have the farrier and the vet on stand-by for Friday morning. Hopefully we can get him calm enough to give him some help right away."

"Sometimes I just really hate people."

He kissed the top of her head and hugged her.  "There are a few good ones out there still."

"So What you're saying is I can't break 'em all and make' em snap like glow sticks or push 'em down the stairs like slinkies?" She asked innocently. 

He flashed his crooked grin. "Just a few of the many reasons I love ya."

"Life will never be boring with me."

"That’s for damn sure," he chuckled. "Do we have everything we need in case this storm front is as bad as they think it's gonna be?" It was that season where bad weather could knock the power for days due to floods, wind and debris and they were calling for a bad one to start late tonight or early in the morning. 

"Animal's food and backup water supply is safely stored and ready. Aika had plenty of food and treatos. I stocked up on food and supplies for us yesterday and incase shit really hits the fan we gave the lovely MRE's hidden in the closet." They both cringed at the thought. "We filled the sandbags and got them ready the day before yesterday and we picked up three gerri cans of fuel for the generators. We are about as set as we are gonna be." She could see the crease between his brows and that he was chewing at his bottom lip which were all warnings of anxiety building in him. She reached over and put her hand on his thigh giving it a gentle squeeze. "You worried sweetheart?"

He took her hand in both of his. She could always tell if even the slightest thing was off with him. She and she alone was the reason that he made it through his POW recovery and the loss of his men. She spent weeks just holding him while he screamed and cried fighting tortures who were no longer there physically but in his mind were electrocuting him, beating him, breaking his bones, stabbing him, burning him, trying to drown him and killing his men and torturing them in front of him because he was an officer and they wanted information. He shook the thoughts from his mind when he felt her hands on his face and saw her standing in front of him. "No, I'm not worried about the storm sugar."

"Then what's going on up here? " She softly tapped his forehead. 

"Ma needs me to come by and put some sand bags by her back door and put the shutters on her windows."

"Ok." She wasn't sure why he'd be upset by that. "I'll grab my shoes."

"She wants me to come alone."

Ah, there it was. Sy hadn't spent more than 20 minutes without Debbie where she could get to him quickly since he landed in Germany.  She was his anchor. According to the army shrink, just the same way that sounds, smells and other things could trigger PTSD her voice, her scent and her touch helped ground him and pull him back. "I can go and wait in the truck," She offered.

He pressed his forehead against hers. "No. It's just Ma's place right? What could possibly happen to trigger me there? Besides, I've not had a flashback in months. I'll be fine."

He tried to sound convincing but she could tell he felt anything but. Protectiveness told her to demand to go with him but she knew she couldn't. Sy was a grown man making astounding strides in recovery and she had to show him her faith in him. She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm a text or call away if you need anything." 

He gave her a kiss and a hug before calling for Aika and heading to his moms.

@shellyshellshell

@enchantedbytomandhenry

[radianttulsibabe]

About me Post

This account seems to be making friends fairly quickly. So, I thought I'd share some things about me because that is a popular thing on here. I started this account because my husband thought that I would enjoy the site.

I was born on a Friday in a year of the boar on one of the hottest days of that year in a desert in the middle of the night. I believe my mom said that week was well over 100F and it finally got down to around 60F by the time I was born- under a water sun, with earth signs in the rest of my houses.

I have bright blue eyes that people always comment on and say they look like giant flowers or some say the moon.

The name my mother gave me means 'the victorious and beautifully bright one, born of the white sea'. She said she scrapped the other names she was considering when she finally held me in her arms.

I was born with a red forehead that gets more intense or less intense with my moods. I often cover it up with makeup that matches the rest of my skin tone so that people don't stare or ask questions, but recently, I had a slight mishap with the kumkum on my forehead spreading across my face...I blended it in with a beauty blender instead of setting powder and for some reason it made made skin look less red than when I was using setting powder so I just do that now and I feel much cuter than with the heaps of makeup. I also have a red lightning bolt/dragon shaped birthmark on the back of my head that grows down my neck when I'm emotional. It's just how I was born but my hubby said to include it in my about me post so it's there :)

My earliest memories are of my mother and I eating porridge with berries, sitting on the floor, where she would tell me the story of the Ramayana.

My favorite colors are deep red, aubergine purple, rani pink peacock teal, and gold. They have been my entire life except for a few years in my teens when I was adopted by saffron/ blaze orange.

My lucky numbers are 7, 21, & 13. My lucky days are Tuesday and Friday.

My favorite food is kheer. Laddoos take a close second, but kheer has my heart. I also love western style rice pudding and wouldn't say no if a reputable company decided to sponsor my love for rice pudding/ kheer because it is life.

I have a passion for textiles. I love hand loom, block print, hand embroidery because you can feel the generations of craftsmanship in the pieces. I have dabbled in textile work for a minute I sew, weave, spin, knit, crochet, embroider, etc. Not anywhere at the commercial level but for small projects, one off events and clients, friends and family. I am forever mesmerized by all of the beautiful textile creations from all people from around the world. Each region and culture bring so much beauty to something people use everyday. I am a supporter of slow fashion and reusing quality textiles. I love natural fiber and pieces made with love.

I love animals. And for some reason owls keep popping up in my life. I fought it forever but everyone I know was convinced owls were my favorite animals. I tried to tell people I liked elephants and dolphins and snakes, but they were convinced it was owls. Owls would follow me when I was a child and sit outside my window at night. My grandfather was colleagues with an owl handler and when I was a child they would let me take a great horned owl named Merlin to school for show and tell. Later I worked at a park that by chance had an extensive owlery. I was friends with the falconer and we had much fun with the birds. My university mascot for undergrad is an owl and at this point I've stopped fighting it. The owls and I have a bond that I can't explain and they are fun to have around. There is a small owl that has a seasonal nest in the trees outside my bedroom window. It's fun to say hello when it comes to visit.

I've ridden horses most of my life. I've ridden more horses than I can count. My favorite mare was a small red and white paint. My husband had a white horse forever until it spent its last years as a little girl's lesson horse- which I think is adorable. My grandfather would always joke that one day a tall dark prince would come to take me away and he'd ride a white horse and carry me away on a mustang. Turns out it wasn't exactly a joke because my hubsy is pretty tall, dark, handsome, and he had a white horse growing up- our getaway car at our wedding was a mustang. There may have been some foreshadowing there that child me thought was teasing. I didn't tell anyone about that until after we were married but my grandfather did get a good laugh at the wedding. Hubby said to share that too.

Speaking of...my husband and I met at a party on a Friday the 13th Valentine's ball where he introduced himself and then in the next breath proposed marriage- to which I promptly said no. At the time I was in school and also doing ambassador work representing the cattle/dairy industry. He was working at his family's farm and also in the cattle/dairy industry. We became good friends, then one day we had dinner together, attended an art show, and have since become more or less inseparable. Before we married he would drive me to events after his work day in this little gold car and we would talk for hours. Some of the best memories I have was going to the cattle and agriculture shows.

We tried to elope but had to wait until my ambassador work was done because I was under contract. Once it concluded, we were married within a couple months- much to the chagrin of my family. My brother had tried to get me to marry one of his friends- the fellow was basically my husband's cousin but the relationship didn't work out too well, and then my husband ended up obviously becoming my husband. My parents initially agreed to our marriage and then they removed their blessing after we had the date set with the priest. We proceeded anyways but they did not attend our ceremony at the temple, they did however attend some of the pre events and the reception afterwards. The entire week was mostly one big stressful blur, but we did end up married and that's the important part. One of the many interesting things about our wedding that- I feel inclined to share in this post as the entire event was one interesting thing after another- is that the actual ceremony's original scheduling was delayed by a couple hours due to the priest having an unplanned situation that overlapped with our original time. We ended up being married under the Makara sign instead of the planned Vishakha sign, and consequently due to the time change we were also married during a Tripushkar Yoga. My parents are still furious about the entire ordeal and it was a good number of years ago- enough to get over it by now. They had hoped I would have picked an attorney or doctor or decorated military man, over a cowboy/farmer, but when you know that someone is part of your soul, you can't exactly stop the inevitable. And apparently, the stars literally aligned for the moment so one really can't argue with Bhagavan on the time for something to be accomplished. What many deemed inauspicious ended up being auspicious for our marriage. There were over 1500 person at our wedding. We have since had multiple unplanned wedding ceremonies in front of different groups as they wanted to also see us married and couldn't attend our initial ceremony. Which upon reflection, the timing would make sense that the good deed done during that time multiplied itself. Since our initial wedding, we have traveled over 200,000 miles together and have moved over 11 times. We've met the most incredible people, visited some amazing temples, and have had some fairly wild adventures. Getting married was the most stressful day of my life, but the since then part has very much been worth it.

We both come from joint families. He grew up towards the mountains, and I grew up towards the lakes and rivers- we were separated by a forest and found out that we actually had many of the same friends. When we were dating we would meet in the middle or he would come visit me. A few times I would travel to his family home but he would usually fetch me and bring me back. We are the only couple on both sides who didn't live as a married couple with one set of parents for at least a year or two- in I think it's somewhere around 5 generations or more. So that's been an interesting situation to navigate- to say the least.

I studied engineering at university. It was the typical school is life and you will be an engineer story. If you are on this blog, you probably know what I'm talking about. I now teach privately.

During the lockdown I spent most of my time studying Traditional Chinese Medicine, Qui Gong, Ayurveda, Yoga, Traditional Thai Medicine, and Western Sports Science. I figured if I was going to be removed from my original plan for career development, I might as well turn inward. During that time I learned a lot and am so grateful for the few years of relative solitude I could devote to deepen those studies. Some of my classes were remote and some of my classes were social distanced in person with incredibly small class sizes- so the relationship with the teachers became incredibly intimate. It's a time in my life that provided incredible nurturing for the person I need to be today.

As far as this account goes, I'm apparently here to share a bit about me and my adventures, but I started the account to share the beautiful Shri art that I find on the internet. I wasn't originally going to share anything about myself, but it came out organically and until I feel otherwise, I might as well share. I tend to stay relatively to myself so it's good to make friends who also love LakshmiNaryana.

Anyways. this is probably long enough for now. I may edit it as I go. I'm sure more "personal lore drops" will make their way to the blog as this progresses. but for now, blessings my friends and welcome to this blog that mixes my love for all things Shri with a little bit of me.

I hope you remember to dance and to go through life joyfully.

<3 Rukmini

PS for those wondering, I did eat chocolate chip biscuits and milk while writing this. If you were next to me, I entirely would have shared. I hope you know I thought about sharing with every bite.

[sandra-writes]

Harrison Slytherin is not dead!

I know, I know - one more year has passed and still no news on my little Harry Potter re-write. But I've been surprisingly productive on that front latley, so hopefully this really is the last update you'll get from me before I am ready to upload the next school year.

And what do I have so far? A whooping 233k words, so once I actually manage to finish it, edit it and post it, there should be plenty to read before the drought comes back. As for how am I doing story-wise, I am writing a scene in the second half of June 1995, so I am really hoping to be done with the school year before long.

However, there is a lot of editing in my future, so please, don't get your hope too up. Still, I am mostly optimistic about not needing to write another post in a year for fourth anniversary.

And as a little treat, I have a small surprise for you under the cut once again. Hopefully it won't disappoint.

Love, Sandra

Harry is not happy about being in the uniform on a Sunday, but this time he understands it. There are two other schools coming and since this meeting is at least semi-formal, school uniforms for everyone involved makes sense. It even makes sense for everyone to stand with their own house and by their grades. If nothing else, first years in the front means that they might even see something. What that something is going to be, on the other hand…

“How do you think they are coming?” Harry asks quietly once they’re all piled in front of the school. He has Pansy to one side of him and Draco on the other. Theo stands next to Draco with Blaise next to him and on the other side of Pansy are the girls. The fifth years are right behind them with the prefects standing at the ends of their rows and the third years are in front of them. Daniel took his place in front of Theo and Harry smiled when he saw it, unsure whether Daniel did it on purpose or just absently.

“In a flashy way, certainly,” Pansy grumbles a bit, obviously displeased how… common their display is. But then again, they’re already here and it’s hard to make an impression that way. “Maybe by water?” But she sounds uncertain as she glances at the Great Lake. Harry slowly nods.

“It would make sense, wouldn’t it? The river leads straight to the sea, doesn’t it?”

Pansy shrugs just when Dumbledore speaks up.

“Ah! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

With one last look towards the lake (where nothing happens), Harry looks towards the Forbidden Forest while Draco looks up, Pansy following his lead a beat after him. Excitement rolls throughout the student body, but while the Slytherins and Ravenclaws are busy looking around, Hufflepuffs whisper among themselves and Gryffindors outright yell. Luckily, Harry is so far away from Gryffindors that he doesn’t understand what they’re saying.

“There!” Draco whispers, excited, and all the people around them check to see where he’s looking. Harry catches it just when it soars above the forest, the dark shape of it quickly soaring to the ground in between them and the forest. It’s a big, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage pulled by a dozen Abraxans. Harry can’t help his awed look as the carriage draws close. A number of first years jump back when it comes hurling towards the students, but the Abraxans touch down and then with a thud the carriage lands and they stop just in time to be perfectly positioned in front of the Hogwarts students.

A young man in pale blue robes jumps off the carriage and unstraps a set of golden stairs that unfold from the carriage. Then he steps back a bit and out of the carriage steps the tallest, biggest woman Harry has ever seen. Dressed in black satin, her tan face looks towards Hogwarts with her dark eyes, her hair drawn back into a simple, but elegant bun.

She steps out of the carriage and stays looking at them. Then Dumbledore starts to clap and Harry hesitantly joins him. He hoped there would be a better greeting for their guests than this muggle way of showing awe.

“My dear Madame Maxime,” Dumbledore says happily as he steps closer to her. And Dumbledore is not a short man, but as this Madame Maxime hands him her hand, he hardly needs to bend to kiss it.

“A half-giant?” Pansy asks in bewilderment. Harry frowns but doesn’t look at her.

“Well, she is the headmistress of Beauxbatons,” Draco says carefully as Madame Maxime exchanges pleasantries with Dumbledore in heavily accented English. “And although I am not fond of Hagrid, he is not… giant-ish.”

“There’s not much about cross-species breeding,” Harry hears Theo say softly, obviously not wanting anyone to overhear, “but there is some evidence that when it comes to wizard-giantess breeding, the child though looking… unusually big is more like a wizard than a giant.  And she is the headmistress. It will be fine.”

He doesn’t sound entirely sure of it himself, but Harry is still glad for the vote of confidence.

Harry keeps an ear on the niceties exchanged between the two heads of schools, but most of his attention is turned towards the handful of students who exited the carriage after Madame Maxime. There’s about twenty of them, all in robes or, in cases of girls, dresses with short capes in pastel colours. There are five different colours of these… uniforms; pale blue that the boy that opened the carriage for Madame Maxime wore, mint green, pale pink, light violet, and light yellow. Three girls also have matching scarfs draped over their heads, hiding their hair, and Harry is a bit surprised to see that. Isn’t hair a source of pride for witches?

There are also two adults standing with these students, a man and a woman, both wearing something similar to their students, though it’s obviously not uniform. The woman is wearing a blue dress with long sleeves reaching almost to her ankles. The dress is dark blue, and her light brown hair is tucked into a fancy hairstyle at the skull of her head with a delicate-looking headband making it a touch fancier. The man has short blonde hair and blue robes that manage to be lighter than the woman’s dress yet darker than the blue of the uniform of their students. Harry’s eyes stray towards him and a student in a pale blue dress with platinum hair. She fidgets a bit with a loose strand of silvery hair, the rest of which is braided in a half-circle at the lower part of her head, with tiny white flowers woven into it. It takes considerable effort for Harry to pull his attention away from them.

Madame Maxime accepts Dumbledore’s offer to go warm up in the castle, which gives them some moments before Durmstrang arrives. Harry leans closer to Pansy.

“Have you seen the scarfs?”

Pansy frowns a bit as she glances at him before looking around again. The whole student body is a little louder than before, everyone talking either about the Beauxbatons students or how Durmstrang is possibly coming.

“I’ve heard about that. Apparently, it’s something about religion?”

By Pansy’s confused voice, Harry guesses the religion in question is muggle. That makes him frown as well.

“How many muggle religions are there?”

Pansy smirks and shrugs, but as she opens her mouth Harry frowns and raises his hand, stopping her from speaking. He swears he can hear something…

Darkness fell slowly, so that now Harry almost can’t see the Dark Lake. But he swears that he can hear a sound coming from there.

And of course, that’s when the whirlpool in the Great Lake starts. Harry and Pansy take a second to smirk at each other, before they turn their attention to the lake just in time to watch a great ship rise from the water. It looks somewhat ghostly and makes shivers run down Harry’s spine, but it still looks majestic.

In a few minutes they can all hear the splash of an anchor being thrown in the shallows and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank. Soon after, they watch the Durmstrang students disembark. There’s also around twenty of them and as they walk up their way to the Hogwarts students, they all seem to have wide shoulders and figure to match it, but as they come closer it becomes obvious that it’s just an illusion created by their furry coats.

There is just one figure that looks slim and elegant from far away. And when they come close enough to recognize them, it’s obvious that it is the headmistress. Her coat looks sleeker and more fitted, but she does have the same warm hat as everyone else.

“Professor Dumbledore,” she curtly nods at him as she steps closer to him, her voice a little rough, but commanding respect. She offers her hand and Dumbledore grasps her forearm in greeting.

“Professor Kopachesky,” Dumbledore smiles at her, his eyes twinkling. “Welcome to Hogwarts!”

“It’s warmer than we were expecting this time of the year.” Her accent isn’t as strong as Maxime��s, but it’s still palpable. Clearly east European, but Harry is not sure it’s actually a Russian one. “Sorry for the delay. Your octopus was not too happy to see us.”

“Yes, yes, she’s a little protective of her territory,” Dumbledore laughs, and shivers run down Harry’s spine. He’s going to guess Dumbledore’s laughter is fake, then, as is his cordiality with Durmstrang’s headmistress. “Come, come. Madame Maxime already arrived, so we can start the feast.”

Oh joy.

[nicoseyeliner]

nico + percy brotherly headcanons :)

- [ ] Percy takes Nico out to get Mc Donalds + take him to see a Disney Movie

- [ ] Percy let’s Nico doodle all over him

- [ ] Percy listens to Melanie Martinez continuously + got Nico into it

- [ ] Nico takes Percy to the underworld to visit the horses + pegasi that dies in the war

- [ ] Ever since Percy found out about Nicos sexuality he has fully supported him

- [ ] Percy took Nico to a Pride Fair/ Show one year and Percy saw how much Nico enjoyed it, now they go every year

- [ ] Nico + Percy do drag together

- [ ] Nico cooks Italian for Percabeth on their anniversary(blue themed obvs)

- [ ] Nico speaks like an old man a lot

- [ ] Percy was one of the first people Nico told about his crush on Will

- [ ] Nico helped Percy discover he is bisexual (my headcanon)

- [ ] Percy LOVES marvel

- [ ] Percy + Nico both hyperfixilate on deep sea animals

- [ ] Percy takes Nico to see said deep sea animals

- [ ] Percy takes Nico scuba diving

+

Song quotes that define Percy + Nico :))

- Nico

”Maybe if I knew all of them well,

I wouldn’t have been trapped inside this hell that holds me”

- Pity Party : Melanie Martinez

- Percy

”I’ve never fit into any category, always deemed an outcast”

- Fire Drill : Melanie Martinez

- Nico + Percy

“It’s past point of no return, when will we learn?

Alert me when this shit is over”

- Powder : Melanie Martinez

- Nico + Percy

”I’m not a little kid now (Kid Now)

Watch me get big now (Big Now)

- Alphabet Boy : Melanie Martinez

(I have more but I’ll do a separate post about it)

[sanctus-ingenium]

answering asks and stuff vol 5

i think he'd just sort of hang there limply like a sack of potatoes. no verve in that man

(more asks under the cut because u know these things get long)

-

Yes! There are actually soooo many different horses around the place, it's the reason the ranger organisations in Inver have a section entirely dedicated to horsemanship. Your whole job can just be the guy they call whenever there's a horse (this is what Pascal's human sweetheart does btw)

The Unicorn is a creature who starts to make trouble in the year 2017 and is a nemesis of Pascal who, again, is a modern Inver character. I do portray Unicorn with water motifs on purpose, but that's because his territory or the area in which he operates is the great inland sea of Inver, Lough Cánamac.

(@sleepvines)

The water horse in that picture referred in the ask & those tags lived until the year 1864 in the victorian Inver period and died pretty dramatically after tangling with the Púca servants and a completely normal human man called Jean-Baptiste (Félix's twin brother). Jean-Baptiste was researching the application of bombarding enchanted objects with electrons in a vacuum tube to see what the hell it would do. He was sort of a scientist, if you consider making jerry-rigged electromagnets with no safety features in his bedroom 'science'. He discovered that the electrical current in a vacuum tube interacted with a magic object by piercing the barrier between the Overworld and the Otherworld, and this would often have flashy and explosive consequences. To date, he is the only human character of Inver who has invented his own form of magic without the aid of any faery patron or familiar.

The water horse, after its scuffle with Félix as depicted in the painting, withdrew and then came back for vengeance. And one CRITICAL feature of faeries in Inver is that they physically can not tell identical twins apart - no matter how different they look, those two people are one person in the mind of someone from the Otherworld. So it attacked Jean-Baptiste instead and died super hard because he doesn't fuck around.

-

So his head isn't fake fake like Nosewyse's is, there are actual skull fragments in there.

I can't comment on what causes the growth of flesh within holy beasts but I can say that this would not be a factor for either Pantera or Krokodilos. We'll just call it an imbalance of his humours ;)

-

Guinefort is suuuuper archaic, one of the very earliest Holy Beasts still kicking. And back then, they built small on purpose. They didn't have the technical knowhow or the foundation of knowledge to make anything much bigger or more complex. When he was built, he was the pinnacle of enginesmithing and he did hunt dragons, though back then he would have been accompanied not by companion beasts in a crusade, but by ground troops only. He was (and is) very quick on his feet thanks to his super light build and works well as a lure or decoy (his actual animal type is a greyhound).

He also used to have a series of regular black powder cannons mounted on his back, which was fun and dangerous and used to be absolute hell to maintain & reload because he couldn't carry much ammunition.

[weishenmewwx]

Stars of Chaos 杀破狼

Vol 2, Notes 1. Pages 21 - 46.

A very kind tumblr user had to educate me that, yes, Priest edited her work after it was published (stolen on to?) on pirate websites, and so, yes, the translators were working off of a different version than I read.

But I LOVE the version I read, so I'm sharing it with you. You get BOTH.

Please excuse my angry "MISSING PARAGRAPH!" hand-written notes, as I did not realize that official edits were made post-pirate-publication.

Below are many possibly-unnecessary cultural notes that I think are just really neat, plus differences between versions. (I love the old one!)

Here we go:

Very cool word, 帅。

Usually, I read or hear it in reference to some guy being very cool. Devilishly handsome. Dashing.

Here, 大帅 is used as "Commander-in-Chief," which is the same thing as "Marshal," which can mean (dictionary.com) "a military officer of the highest rank" as well as the one I'm more familiar with, "chief of a police or fire department in some cities."

I just like how, in Chinese, I can also-interpret that everyone is calling him "Big Handsome."

Yah, Chen QingXu is a Boss. Who introduces herself as, like, a snake-oil peddler.

讷于言 The young soldier was bad at words. Not sparing, not careful; just bad.

悬壶济世 hang pot save world, because so much of Chinese medicine is boiling herbs for patients to drink.

No one is putting powder in leather sachets. It's dried herbs.

I usually agree with the Seven Seas' formatting, but I think it would be more clear if those sentences were broken into the original two separate paragraphs.

Top: Gold Tank = container for violet gold. It took me a second to figure that out.

Bottom: 小兄弟. I love how you can combine the "older brother" 兄 with the "younger brother" 弟, add a "little" 小 in the front, and it becomes, effectively, "Bro," but respectful.

In case you can't read my tiny bad handwriting: there used to be another paragraph here about how Gu Yun wants to see Chen QingXu because his meds are losing effect. The effects of drinking the meds used to last for months, then weeks, and now they only last two days.

And on the facing page, in the illustration, Chang Geng should be ON his horse.

It hits a little different, I think, to say You have to bathe and change your clothes just to walk your horse? And it has to be this exact time and place?

锋芒毕露 "sharp point must expose"

After years spent guarding the Silk Road, Gu Yun's propensity to show off had gradually faded...

OK. I think ten is enough for this post. More to come...

My DanMei Literary Adventure Masterpost

Stars of Chaos - All Notes Links

[stromuprisahat]

The Little Palace and Grishas’ lives in Second Army, pt. 9

Siege and Storm- Chapter 15

war room's many maps

The cartographer in me couldn’t resist the old maps wrought in animal hide and embellished in whimsical detail: the gilded lighthouse at Os Kervo, the mountain temples of the Shu, the mermaids that swam at the edges of the seas.

Materialki kaftas

... the red embroidery at the cuffs of her purple kefta indicated that she was one of the Alkemi, Fabrikators who specialized in chemicals like blasting powders and poisons. David sat further down the table, his cuffs emblazoned in gray. He worked in glass, steel, wood, stone—anything solid. David was a Durast ...

Siege and Storm- Chapter 16

library

At night, the glass-domed room was lit by oil lamps, and the hush was so deep that I could hear myself breathe. Alone in the gloom, surrounded by books, it was hard not to feel overwhelmed.

summer heat relief

Summer deepened, bringing waves of balmy heat to Os Alta. The only relief to be found was in the lake, or in the cold pools of the banya that lay in the dark shade of a birchwood grove beside the Little Palace.

Siege and Storm- Chapter 19

Alina's large-scale gardening attempts

It was as if someone had taken a razor and lopped off the top of the woods in a clean diagonal cut from the tip of the tree line to the shore. Where the beam had touched down, the ground was marked by a glowing trench that ran all the way to the waterline.

?official? name of the main hall

We charged through the Hall of the Golden Dome and flung open the doors ...

Siege and Storm- Chapter 20

Little Palace's surrounding buildings

We made our way down the gentle slope that led past the banya. Horses whinnied in the paddocks. The stables were dark, but the training rooms were ablaze with light. I heard shouting. The largest training room was little more than a barn with a dirt floor, its walls covered in every weapon imaginable.

one of the maps again

I set the atlas on the long table and crossed to the ancient map of Ravka that ran the length of the far wall. Of all the maps in the war room, this one was by far the oldest and most beautiful. I trailed my fingers over the raised ridges of the Sikurzoi, the mountains that marked Ravka’s southernmost border with the Shu, then followed them down into the western foothills. The valley of Dva Stolba was too small to be marked on this map.

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8

[johaerys-writes]

As Fate Would Have It

Patrochilles | Omegaverse | E | Ch. 7

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

The journey to Pelion lasts for the better part of the day. They make their way through narrow, serpentine paths winding through dense forested land, twittering birds and bubbling streams accompanying them as they ride higher and higher up the mountain. Chiron leads them at a gentle, even pace that’s easy on the horses, and talks to them about the trees, herbs, animals and mountains they pass by. 

This is sage, the first shrub to bloom this season. The leaves are used to manage pain and inflammation in the body; the flowers make a lovely tea. 

Great horned owls live in dense populations here, and they often lay their eggs in the fall; you must be careful not to hunt them when they’re rearing their young. 

Do you see this wide rock, up there on the hillside? Pan is known to come and rest there from time to time. I would avoid it, if I were you. 

“I’ll be sure to,” Patroclus mutters under his breath. His brush with the divine has been nothing short of testing so far; he doesn’t exactly want to push his luck further. 

The clean, fresh scent of the mountain greets them as they approach the glade where Chiron’s cave lies, late in the evening. Its mouth is covered by thick leather panels, no doubt meant to keep the cold at bay. Even though in Phthia it is still very much summer, Patroclus can feel the change of the temperature that comes with the altitude. His skin prickles at a chill, sharp breeze, and he wishes he had taken a cloak with him before he dashed out of the palace like a man possessed. 

“Leave the horses there,” Chiron tells them, gesturing at a covered alcove in the stone that has been turned into a pen of sorts. “There is grass for them to graze on, and plenty of shade for when day breaks again.”

Patroclus guides the horses there, his and Achilles’ both, as Achilles stretches his legs and his arms after the long ride. It is a beautiful place, quiet and serene, and so very green. Pine needles and acorns crunch under his feet as he walks. After so many years in the lowlands, it is strange not to hear the murmur of the waves or smell the sharp scent of the sea with every gust of wind. 

Achilles is waiting for him by the entrance of the cave; they make their way inside together, their heads turning this way and that to take everything in. There is a big fire already burning in the middle of the large, circular room, bathing the space in vibrant warmth. There are tools of all kinds covering the entirety of one wall of the cave, while the other is lined with amphorae, crates, boxes, vials and clay bowls filled with strange powders and dried herbs of  all kinds. Achilles’ nostrils flare as he inhales, eyes wide with curiosity, and Patroclus can’t say that he can’t relate; his own keen nose has been practically assaulted by all the different kinds of smells that can be found in this room, from the sweet tang of stum to the musky odour of dried mushrooms, to the floral scent of fresh blooms, cut and left to dry on the wide worktable. It’s like a workshop or a laboratory of sorts, and Patroclus is more than a little curious about what the centaur busies himself with here. 

“Come,” he tells them, “sit by the fire. There is food and drink aplenty; I think you might need it.” 

They both sit down on the furs in front of the fire and accept the warm wine that Chiron offers them, as well as the strange porridge of coarse wheat and sour milk, sprinkled with goat’s cheese as soon as he takes it off the fire and serves it into bowls. Patroclus has never had anything like this before, but it’s quite delicious and very warming. He hungrily wolfs down his share, and gladly accepts the second helping Chiron generously ladles into his bowl. Achilles is reluctant to try it; he sniffs at it cautiously, brows drawn in a curious frown. 

“Is there any fish in it?” he asks. 

“Not a trace,” Chiron answers, amused. “Being this far up, fish aren't as easy to come by here. Unless you’re prepared to go fishing at the river everyday, I’d suggest you get used to different kinds of food.” 

Achilles’ frown deepens. He brings a small spoonful to his mouth, chewing very slowly. Then, his features twist in an expression of faint disgust. 

“How far away is the river?” he asks, a little choked, before he downs his wine. 

The centaur smiles widely; his teeth are perfect rows of white teeth, stark against his dark skin and darker beard. “I’ll take you both there first thing in the morning,” he says, then offers Achilles a few strips of what looks like smoked brown trout. 

They talk while they eat, Patroclus and Achilles giving the centaur a detailed rundown of all events in Phthia and beyond. Though he lives in such a quiet and secluded place, he seems to have a fairly good grasp of everything that’s happening in Greece and beyond, of the doings of both men and of gods, yet he still listens with avid interest as they both relay to him the news, important and mundane. 

After dinner, Achilles asks to play one of the lyres that are hanging off of the cave wall; he plays for them, the crystal clear notes filling the space with sweetness. When the fire is reduced to embers, and Achilles’ fingers slow on the lyre strings, Chiron pushes himself up on his large hooves. 

“It is late, and you are both weary. There is much to do tomorrow; I suggest you take some rest.”

He leads them to another room, adjacent to the larger one, connected to it by a brief passage in the stone. There is a table in one corner, and a small basin filled with clear water in the other, a bundle of furs next to it. It is small and quite bare but Patroclus couldn't be asking more from a room he is, presumably, only going to use to sleep in.

There is just one small problem: there is only one pallet in the room.

Read on AO3!

[whencyclopedia]

Siege of Detroit

The Siege of Detroit (15-16 August 1812) was one of the first major actions of the War of 1812. After a botched invasion of Canada, a US army retreated to Fort Detroit, where it was besieged by British and Native American forces under Major General Isaac Brock and Shawnee chieftain Tecumseh. The Americans quickly capitulated, leaving Detroit in British hands.

Tecumseh and Brock at Fort Detroit

A.M. Wickson (Public Domain)

Background: March to Detroit

By April 1812, war between the United States and the United Kingdom seemed just over the horizon. On the high seas, British warships had been boarding American merchantmen and impressing American sailors with impunity, while on the northwestern frontier, British agents were believed to be aiding two Shawnee brothers, Tecumseh and the Prophet, in their attempt to form a Native American confederacy and resist US encroachment onto their hunting grounds. In Congress, a clique of belligerent, newly-elected representatives – called 'War Hawks' – clamored for war, despite the reluctance of the general population and the underpreparedness of the military. To prepare for a conflict that seemed increasingly likely, the administration of President James Madison looked to shore up defenses in the northwest, where the US shared a border with British-controlled Canada.

As part of this plan, the Madison administration ordered a new army to be raised in the Michigan Territory and then marched to the outpost of Fort Detroit. William Hull, the 59-year-old governor of the Michigan Territory, was commissioned as a brigadier general and offered the command. Hull, a veteran of the American Revolutionary War, was reluctant to accept – he had, after all, recently suffered a stroke – but his fear of an increase in Native American attacks against Michigan settlers led him to take the command. On 25 May, Hull arrived in Dayton, Ohio, where his makeshift army was being assembled, and was dismayed at what he found. The volunteers were noisy and undisciplined, lacking adequate arms or powder. Organized into three militia regiments, the volunteers insisted on electing their own officers. As such, the men they selected as colonels – Duncan McArthur, James Findlay, and Lewis Cass – were all either politicians or aspiring politicians, men with no military experience.

After a botched army inspection in which Hull was nearly flung from his horse, the army of Ohio volunteers set out on 1 June. Proceeding at a slow pace, they reached the frontier community of Urbana ten days later, where they were joined by Lt. Colonel James Miller and a regiment of regulars, the 4th US Infantry. At Urbana, some of Hull's volunteers refused to go any further, claiming that they had not received the full pay that had been promised to them. Though they were eventually prodded along by Miller's regulars, it was not a promising start. A few days later another incident took place when one militiaman, drunk on moonshine, was startled by a noise in the dark and shot one of his fellow sentries. The man was promptly court-martialed and given the "grotesque sentence" of having his ears cropped and each cheek branded (Berton, 94). The army then marched into the Great Black Swamp, northwest of Ohio, where incessant rainfalls had overflown streams and turned the ground to mud. Meanwhile, they were, unbeknownst to them, being closely watched by Tecumseh's scouts, hiding amongst the trees.

William Hull

James Sharples Sr. (Public Domain)

On 26 June, Hull received a letter from the US Secretary of War dated 18 June, warning him that war was imminent and ordering him to get to Detroit "with all possible speed". On 1 July, Hull reached the mouth of the Maumee River where he hired the schooner Cuyahoga and loaded it with anything that was slowing the army down, including his personal dispatches, officers' baggage, extra uniforms, medical supplies, and around 30 sick men. The Cuyahoga then sailed into Lake Erie to transport the supplies to Detroit. The next day, Hull received a second letter from Washington, also dated 18 June, informing him that war had been declared, but it was too late to recall the schooner. As it attempted to enter the Detroit River, the Cuyahoga, carrying Hull's dispatches, was captured by a Canadian vessel. On 5 July, Hull finally reached Detroit, where he was joined by several companies of Michigan militia, bringing his total number to about 2,500 men. Hull, whose army was running dangerously low on supplies, had hoped to find food in Detroit but was disappointed.

Continue reading...

[ehlnofay]

19! :)

19: sea change

In the last few days of the year 200, Torr kills the Emperor. In early 201, a war breaks out.

It’s not wholly unexpected, at least not by those who know where to look. The Emperor’s death is no small blow to Solitude, the city that sent him off on a voyage he would only exit under a pall; especially considering that the guard had patted itself on the back for successfully foiling an assassination attempt right before his ship left, only for his throat to be slit under their noses, anyway. The head of Skyrim’s Penitus Oculatus appears to have vanished. No-one reports seeing anyone out of place on the boat until they started stumbling over the bodies. The Empire mourns through all the official avenues as the heir prepares for succession; Solitude’s government is busy trying desperately to smooth it over, putting out excessive bounties on the assassin that failed and scraping up intel on the one who succeeded. Not that there’s anything much to find – it’s a locked-room murder, and every logical suspect has an alibi that holds up to interrogation. There are no leads to follow.

And Windhelm is a powder keg.

It always has been, ever since the Great War, as long as Torr or any of his kids have been alive. Short-fused and disillusioned, crowds moving hot as blood through its winding stone streets, it’s always been something tough, hard-throated, splintered into careful lined sections. Torr walks whatever lines he wants, but not everyone has the energy to straddle them; not everyone can.  The upper city is all harsh-cut stone and ice, the bricks ancient, the crowds in a hurry, even though none of them seem to know where they’re going; the Grey Quarter is where the snow runs when it turns to slush and the walls are stuffed with rags. The planks keep snapping with dry rot, sharp and gaping as broken teeth. They need to be filled to keep the cold out. The Cornerclub keeps the fire roaring. Talres goes there to work most days and doesn’t come back up to the house until the streets are empty. No-one knows it’s going to happen, not exactly, but there's no way anyone couldn't know. There are a lot of people who have been waiting on an opening, and all eyes are pointed elsewhere.

With little fanfare, the Jarl and his entourage leave Windhelm.

The city stops being a fuse and starts being the wreckage after it’s blown. Torr is told that there’s a span of a few weeks where Talres stops leaving the house completely. Katla gets arrested again and weasels out of it on her own. The ill-drawn posters of something approaching Torr’s face stuck up over the walls of Solitude are covered up with announcements and calls to join the Legion. Windhelm floods with bodies ready for the rebellion. Aventus’ house is already crowded; in a few months, Torr hears, it’s nigh impossible to walk in for the bedrolls and blankets spread over the floor. The city has never been a warm place in any sense of the word; Torr’s siblings are inundated with more kids and more kids with nowhere else to go. They don’t know if Solitude is much better; they look different now than they did on the night of the assassination that wasn’t and then was, hair cropped shorter and uneven, face gaunter, the weight they’d managed to gain over their comfortable months in Falkreath sloughing off them like a spider’s old skin, but even so it’s a bit much to step foot in there so soon, some of the bounty posters still mouldering on their posts. One of the kids says something about needing a whole other house. They’ve only got the one. Still, it makes Torr think.

(Skyrim has one orphanage, a little wooden hall down on the banks of Riften’s canals. And now there is a cursed house in Windhelm.)

Torr doesn’t go to Solitude. They only occasionally go to Windhelm. When they’re not on business, they stay on the outskirts of Danstrar; the Pale, all frozen winds and snow high enough to ice a horse’s knees, is an unappetising enough target that aside from an announcement of alliance with Windhelm’s Stormcloaks the war has not truly reached them yet. Which is ironic, considering.

(If prompted, Torr probably could have seen this coming – Torr, who spent years with his finger on Windhelm’s pulse, moving through the people and hearing endless talk about the government. It was going to happen sooner or later. And of course the Empire reeling from the assassination of its Emperor – the first since around the time of the Oblivion Crisis, which no-one is anxious to repeat, and the reminder of which put plenty of important people quite on edge – is enough of an opportunity to weigh heavily in sooner’s favour. If he’d thought about it with his blade set beneath the hairs of the old man’s beard, he would have known he was setting a war in motion. What Torr doesn’t know is if he would have cared.)

(Probably not. He still doesn’t, after all. Not enough to regret anything.)

Dead winter bleeds into spring; a little ice melts, and the sea begins to change. Torr’s shoulder aches when the weather is bad. There are clashes on the roads, outside cities, described in newspapers and word of mouth. Cyrodiil ships off heaps of soldiers to spill into Solitude’s ports. The house in Windhelm is overrun. But the nightshade kept in the temperate corner that Babette has transformed into a garden begins to bloom months early. The tides still come in and out.

The old Emperor is dead. Skyrim is tearing itself apart. Torr cleans his knife after use with a soap that smells like lavender and tries very hard to dredge up any guilt.

[eating-the-inedible]

Here is a list of the inedibles that will be in this bracket

Lava

Orbeez

Orange Joe (fictional "beverage" that's a combination of orange juice and coffee)

Doll shoes

Dirt

Pen caps

Mercury

Watermelon tourmaline

Comet/scouring powder

Moss

Paper towels

Play-Doh

Drywall

Marbles

CD

DVD

Dice

Kinetic Sand

Coins 

Fiberglass insulation

3DS Stylus

Plastic Bottle Cap

Chapstick

Babybell Cheese Wax

Paper

Bouncy ball

Human meat

Venus (planet)

Cascade dishwasher pods

Acrylic Paint

Magnets

Molten glass

Pens

Sea glass

Silica gel packet

Leaves

Cocoa butter lotion

Antifreeze

Pencil Toppers, the lil eraser things

Sand

Tumbled amethyst

Rubber Ducks

The rubber balls from the game Cranium Cariboo

Polly pocket clothes

Poison Dart Frog

Snow

0.1 uF Film Capacitor

The sun

Metal

Eraser

Tide pods

Phone charger wire

Those free wooden pencils you get at ikea (just the wood shell not the lead)

Liquid nitrogen

Aquarium gravel

the weird science juice in the beakers in those stock images

Origami star

Styrofoam cup

Sticky note

Collar of shirt

This submission form

Plastic straws

Glow sticks

Oil paintings

Candle wax

Glass

Nickel sulfate solution/Nickel plating solution

Silicone wristbands

Seatbelt

The wax paper under your Poutine

Forearm (doesn't have to be one's own)

Asbestos

Candy wrapper

“Okay so technically this is edible but I’ve had urges to just take a huge bite out of certain sea creatures before. Like just a chunk from an orca or dolphin or great white or seal, etc.”

“Those stupid wooden spoons”

Furbies

Scotch tape

Artificial grapes (the wax/plastic ones for display)

phone

THE FLESH OF MY ENEMIES

Crystals

Fire

The goo inside  Stretch Armstrong

Headphone wire

Raw steak

Art

Small colorful rubber bands 

Tinfoil

Pencil lead

Cattails (the plant)

Foamy soap

Liquid soap

Bar soap

Flourite

Shiny rocks

Grass

A hunk of random fish swimming by

A live goldfish

Toothpaste

Styrofoam

Price Tag Fasteners

The moon

Pool noodles

Smol frog

Destroying angel mushroom

the smoke coming out of the grain refineries two Mike's out of Gary, Indiana, Usa

Popsicle sticks

Cardboard

My hat

The tiny rocks in school playgrounds

Gasoline

Blue laundry detergent

Spray foam insulation

Battery corrosion

Fiber optic cables

Packing peanuts

Your mother

Pond water

Dry ice

Alkali metals

Chocolate shampoo

Ping pong ball

Bricks, like the stuff you'd build with. Minecraft bricks even, if you want

Hoodie drawstrings

Horse treats

Chalk

Copper (II) Sulphate Water / Blue Science Rock + Blue Science Juice

Ink

Floam

Fabric Paint

Oil paint

that one art piece of the banana taped to the wall

the hotdog somebody encased in resin

“the thin lego plates not the base plates but like the lego piece thats like 2x8 and they kinda look like hershey chocolate bar pieces”

One of those little hamsters

Model magic

Battery Acid (the drink)

manchineel apple

Rubber band ball

The lava lamp liquid

Blood

Rosin

Wax apples

That cake decoration that came with your slice and you're like 90% sure it's not edible... but what if ?

Soap bubble

Lush cosmetics' products

Plushies

Strawberry Shortcake's dolls with scented hair

Wood

Glue

Salt lamp

People who think children are not worth their consideration

Tarmac

Shampoo

Pennies

Poisonous berries

Chunky soft yarn

Crayons 

Rock

“whatever the Chuck E Cheese Ticket Muncher Machine is eating (it's not the tickets) (or the sound itself but that's neither a solid nor a liquid so this is just kind of holding hands with the hypothetical ticket muncher food)”

Snow globe liquid

Chisel tip whiteboard marker

Raw dough

Raw fuckin cactus. alive

Grape agate

Car seat

Succulents

Keys

Lock pick

Scrub daddy

Molten sugar 

Allergens

Lightning bolts

“Bark dust. Like the dirt/bark dust that's under the bark chips on a playground. Not the chips themselves. The dust.”

Clear deodorant

Apple earbud wires

Eggshells

Squinkies

Hello kitty sweatshirt zipper

Preshredded mozzarella cheese

Scrap metal

Rose

All of the rocks at a crystal shop

Origami polyhedron model

Bubbles mixture

Cupcake liners

Hair gel

Curtain rods

Incense sticks

Incense cones

Metal thing that attaches eraser to pencil

Windshield wiper fluid

Plastic pencil grips

Wooden ice cream spoon

Book

Tree

The liquid in levels

Vanilla extract

Aroace flag

Coil incense

California state testing “next question” button

Spackle

Forbidden coal iron french fries

Garage doors that look like chocolate bars

Plastic takeout box

Velvet

Weird anime girl hair

Freezable gel ice pack

Clouds

Necklace chains

Nail polish

Pencil Shavings

Pool floats

Bao Dumpling

Spray deodorant

0.1 uF Ceramic Capacitor

Vanillish (Pokémon)

Fondant

Really fancy pillars

Computers

Favorite song

Tumblr

“THE LITTLE ORBS IN THE MOUSE (aka trackballs)”

“Any cutesy anime character like Chopper or Pikachu”

Wooden fan blades

Balsa wood sticks

Those blankets that look like tortillas

Microwave

Milk and golden honey softsoap

Batteries

1x2 lego pieces

Light bulbs

Slightly melted lounge chair

Cork (the material)

Pineapple coke

Fingernails 

Sparkly lipgloss

Race Car Tire Marble

Gold trophies

Konjac sponge

Shirt

Mandy the Slayer / Orange Spyderco Dragonfly Knife

Malachite

Heater

Glasses Temples

Typewriter keys

EVA foam

Airplane

Sword

Crumbs in the couch

Children

My wife's arm/shoulder

Records

Yellow ACE bandages

Neon Signs

Scented candles