#processing how to draw enki

[tunapesto]

apologies if the deets are inaccurate i was out and i have the most unreliable memory

[alienpossession]

6 hours before Part 1

After quite some times, we believe that Enki's work on Earth already provided clear assurance to ensure a safe landing of our kind in the so-called "Blue Planet". As the lead, I landed first to greet Enki as he prepared me for his next step.

He looked massive inside the human husks from my perspective, but he promised me an even bigger catch which is important as I need to establish my authority and ensured protection over our existing kind that will follow Enki's and my steps. I latched myself in the heel of one of many Enki's husks as my skin seamlessly camouflaged to match the husks as to not draw unwanted attention. When Enki opened his front door, an even bigger human becomes visible from my point of view, which provided me with surrealistic perspective as this other human looked way thicker yet also stronger than Enki's towering form.

"What else, boy? You really need to stop calling me all the time for any minor inconveniences, you know? I have more than one building to take care off and definitely more than one tenant,"

"Yeah, and definitely more than one species too, now Cap,"

I take that as my cue. While the bigger guy clearly puzzled by the statement Enki made through this particular husk of his, I quickly latched myself to the hairy, uncovered legs of the older human. He instantly froze upon contact as I released the stream of my numbing liquid into his system with my small, delicate set of teeth that just penetrates the human flesh with ease. Then, after sensing that he really just stood still, I stop biting and climbed up into his shorts and pierced myself right through his anus to access the rest of his organ. The upward journey lasted rather quickly, and soon I found myself staring just slightly shorter compared to Enki's husk. He greeted me with a smile and then proceeded to hug me super tight

"Welcome to New York City, Captain. You fit right in over here as my landlord,"

"Hmmm.....yup....great husk selection, Enki. Or should I say....boy," I said, getting used to my human husk and all sets of his memories and muscle reflexes, "I need to use your bathroom if you don't mind,"

"Sure thing Greg, it's the first door on the left," he replied to me by calling me with the husk name, which put a rather sinister smile on my face

"Boy, I'm your landlord. No need to tell me shit about my own building," I said with a chuckle as I know I nailed to copy this husk way of speaking, but just a bit brighter to Greg's usual mean tone.

I eventually walked into the decent-sized bathroom, this is one of the bigger ones in this building since Enki chose a rather well-off tenant as his husk, and I started to let out a golden-colored stream out of my thick appendage into the toilet bowl. It's peeing, a rather unique excretion system of human's small-yet-complex physiology with all of its ritual and precision. My view is this activity is quite wasteful, as our kind are highly efficient in processing our nutrient, we don't really excrete anything as everything we consumed turned into energy. But based on Enki's notes, this thick meat that only naturally exist in the body of a human male also served as their reproductive organ, yet another fascinating and complex physiology of human body. Enki's video showcased how this meat, in its various form, shapes, color, girth and even curvature, impaled directly to a fitting hole that the female form have in their body. We of course have no full video on the inside of the female reproductive organ, but my husk memory of junior high school biology and his own various sexual encounters sort of fill in the gap on the kind of liquid and process that eventually resulted in the creation of a human being. Greg's memory also flashed me about several memories of man-to-man breeding too conducted by his own offspring, but Enki's knock snapped me out of my focus as he peeked his head in, already in different form

"Everything's good?"

"Y---yeah, all good. So, I'll call the other to start the descend to this room and then we'll go to all the tenants?"

"I mean.....you don't have to knock on all doors, just put them close to the door and let them slide inside and do the rest. We can just wait for their updates. All the tenants have your number after all, they can inform us once they succeed. Meanwhile, if they enter the room with the tenants out, they just can wait until the tenants returned. Sounds easy, right?"

"Hm, okay, that sounded more efficient and less time-consuming. After all, I need you to explain to me about some of Greg's memories, I rather spend my day understanding all things human compared to knock on multiple doors all afternoon long,"

"Even better plan, knock on one door you know exactly that the tenant is inside for the day and tell them to do the work after the takeover while you can return here and I can explain to you about everything you want to understand!"

And that's exactly what I did as soon as the rest of our kind descended. I put them all inside this utility bag and storm out from Enki's unit as I knock on the unit 3 doors down from Enki's husk unit. Greg memories revealed to me about Tim recent divorce proceeding and the fact that he practically lived alone ever since, making him a convenient operative to spread our kind all over the building. I wasted no time as I throw Elmy right at Tim's startled face and before long, Tim is a convert and ready to do his job. Like me, he excused himself first to his own bathroom as Elmy processed all the newfound memories and human reflexes in order to pilot his body perfectly. As I finally walk to the bathroom, he's buck naked and smiling at his own reflection

"He's so depressed, thank God you threw me to take control over him and instill this husk with a new sense of purpose, thanks Captain,"

"Well, less talking and more moving, Elmy. All your comrades here awaiting their fresh husk and a chance to instill those human husk with new sense of purpose too,"

"On it, Captain. You can leave the bag with me while I put on some clothes first. No need to worry, I'll finish it even before the sun sets,"

---

Truth be told, while Enki told me about the confusion I have over the conflicting memories of my husk and my original learnings about Earth from our elders ages ago, streams of messages entered my phone and disrupted our learning session. It's mostly selfie of men followed by a quick confirmation on who's who

"Ronntholn, reporting from Carter Worthington. 27 years old. Former FAANG senior programmer, now just relying on multiple investments from his savings and severance while enjoying life to the fullest, like sculpting his body and screwing chicks,"

"Ronnusen, reporting from Bruno Pereira. 49 years old with wife and 2 adult kids, all kids are out from the unit since two years ago, wife already subdued until further command,"

"Mafis, reporting from Ruben Moreno. Entrepreneur caught up with all sorts of the wrong people across the crime world and police in the city. Very high proximity to danger which usually means abandoning this husk, awaiting orders for next move,"

I shared the various stream of information I received from the husk to Enki, asking for his analysis on what course of action we should take next with these series of husk under our control. But I know there should be more bodies reporting, and I can sense that some of them are not reporting their updates despite already succeeding, so I tried to zone out and tap into all the visions that I can access all at once, like the human technology called CCTV.

As expected, some of them are already defying my orders, testing around their vessels even before making a report.

One interesting vision showcased one of the recent husk surrounded by 4 reeked skater punk or something that he alone can clearly beat the shit out of, but somehow he decided not to. I tapped Enki on his shoulder to make him join my vision and share his assessment on the situation

"Come on, pathetic fag. Don't just stand there. Sniff!"

Enki pulled me out of the vision rather quickly

"That's some sort of fetish, pretty sure uniquely human but it's not like we figured out all the rites of the species in the entire universe yet, right? So, it's when powerful and respectable member of society degraded themselves to be humiliated or controlled by what society generally deemed to be the lower people, younger, smaller, less privileged, all sort of that. Some humans get their "sexual kick" from such act, and I guess it's better for you to not linger too long in it, that can alter your husk's psychological state if you are exposed to it for too long or internalizing it. After all, you are very much still adjusting to all the newfound information, your mind is highly malleable until the first 12 hours is over,"

"Yeah, I really don't know whether it's the atmosphere or something, but I feel like I'm so unsure about everything and just let my husk to do all the moves and the thinking. Like, yes I can assert myself to make this husk do what I want, but there's this nagging sensation that always asked to be paid attention to. I'm not even sure I'm this curious about the matter of gay sex, I just feel like it's what this husk constantly pushed me to think about,"

"Hmmmmm.....maybe that's what filled his mind before he came to my room. Is that memory fresh according to his memory?"

"Yeah, quite fresh. Just last night,"

"Oh well, maybe that's why. You know what, before my friend comes around, maybe we should check your unit, see what's up. And pretty sure your son should've been converted too judging on the timing, let's check him out,"

---

Dang, sorry for long delay from me & @fullfriendnerdclutch we're both dealing with issues in our life hence the delay on the brainstorming session on the direction of this one. The continuation of this part (Greg's son & the actual part 2) will all be posted in fullfriendnerdclutch account, so stay tune!

[magerywrites]

I should probably add some justification for proposing Fate doesn't really know who Ninshubur is, so let me elaborate. First and foremost, as far as I can determine, Fate interprets Ishtar almost exclusively from the Epic with the occasional flutter in the direction of the Descent.

It's aware that some of her other myths exist, but when I say almost exclusively from the Epic I mean things like how Archer Ishtar's material entry poorly paraphrases a quote from Enki in Enki and the World Order—who notes to Ishtar that "you destroy what should not be destroyed; you create what should not be created"—to report it instead as "Inanna? Is she not the most annoying goddess in the world!? She will destroy something that certainly does not need to be destroyed, and she will also create something that does not need to be created!" and attributes it to Gilgamesh.

Nasu, I'm very happy for you, and I'm going to let you finish, but I have read several different translations of the Epic, two of which are sitting on my desk as I write this, and our boy Gilly-P does not at any point say those words in that order.

Anyway. Speaking of an occasional flutter in the direction of the Descent, yes, Ninshubur has a major role in the Descent. However, of all the deities who feature in it outside of Inanna and Ereshkigal, Fate only ever acknowledges Dumuzi, who, likely not coincidentally, is also the only one of those deities the Epic mentions in relation to Ishtar.

Stepping outside those two myths, Narita references Enheduanna in Strange Fake, which is an unexpected flex, and part of Ishtar's improved characterisation may be drawn from how Enheduanna speaks of Ishtar in the Exaltation and the Hymn. However, I'm strongly inclined to put that down instead to the fact that Narita—based on this section of his author's note at the end of of Volume 4—actually just genuinely thinks Ishtar's neat and is willing to write her far more charitably because of it. He's very plainly still drawing from the Epic, not just because of the way he writes Ishtar's personality, feats, and general description but because, well, one of the lynchpins of the entire story revolves around the entangled relationships between Gilgamesh, Enkidu, Ishtar, and Humbaba. It's fairly obvious where the man's coming from; it's simply that he's also willing to grant Ishtar genuine grandeur and dignity in the process, which cannot be said for Grand Order.

Overall, I'm forced to draw the conclusion that Fate just doesn't really care about any Ishtar content outside of the Epic, which, as a corollary, means it just doesn't really care about Ninshubur either. We will never get a meaningful Ninshubur—at best we'll get a passing reference like Enheduanna does—so she might as well not exist for its purposes. She's outside of its very specific snapshot of a limited array of characters, so we can ride as eternal, shiny, and chrome as we like out here on the borderlands.

To be clear, there's an obvious appeal to Fate's approach: when you're bouncing around so many mythological systems to put together your own spin on all of it, you kind of have to not get lost in the sauce, especially when you can't guarantee how many sources are even available in your native language. This is doubly relevant in the case of Mesopotamia, given that Gilgamesh has played a starring role since Stay Night—the Epic was always going to be Nasu's first stop for anything Ishtar, and it's not like Fate treats mythology in general as much more than a series of stories to adapt and play with in service of the stories it wants to tell. In the end, it's a largely reasonable approach even though it regularly results in unreasonable things.

I just like to dream of a world where somebody at Type Moon shared my specific hyperfixation too.

Look at her! Isn't she great? I think she's great.

(Source is Fate/Strange Fake Volume 5; artist is Morii Shizuki.)

Can I pretend that Ishtar really likes Haruri because she looks like Ninshubur?

It depends on how attached you are to Fate canon!

As you likely already know if you're asking me this question, but which I shall explain for the more general audience, in Strange Fake Ishtar has two main reasons for liking Haruri and deciding to protect her.

One of them is that, despite using magecraft, Haruri's values, opinions, and beliefs mean she's still "human", rather than a "mage", concepts Ishtar draws an important distinction between.

(There's honestly a lot to talk about in Strange Fake about Ishtar's relationship with humanity. It's not just in her big declarations about watching over them and ruling them, or how she can "find something to enjoy even in the most awkward of dances, as long as you never abandon your humanity", but also in the little things like how Enkidu notes that all the gods "except Ishtar and Ereshkigal" thought Humbaba was a "complete human being". But that's beyond the scope of this ask.)

The other, which I was alluding to in my initial response, is that Haruri's name "was kinda similar" to Siduri's name—that's the "deep reason" Ishtar has for naming Haruri her high priestess. Ishtar's instincts "couldn't possibly choose the wrong person", so that similarity was enough.

But it means that Ishtar's first association with Haruri is Siduri, not Ninshubur. If she had thought of Ninshubur first, she probably would have said something to that effect.

However, if you're willing to step beyond Fate canon, you arrive at a space far more rife with possibility.

By that, I mean it's an even bet if Fate even genuinely knows Ninshubur exists, so go wild, comrade.

Spread the Haruri-Ninshubur word!

Hell, go above and beyond and make it a little fruity: see this speculative essay by someone whose Mespotamian expertise makes me look like a flailing child.

[teatitty]

both???

Scenario 1:

At some point during Zero, Gil and Dia started meeting on the rooftop of a particular building. At first they kept coming back out of spite, no words exchanged - sort of a “this is my roof fuck you” situation, but eventually Dia said a scathing remark, Gil was taken aback by this and they started exchanging harsh words whenever possible. 

They really didn’t like eachother. Gil was...frustrated that Diarmuid “never bit his master with those fangs” and Dia didn’t like how much of an asshole Gilgamesh was. Things escalated and long story short, Dia ended up grabbing Gil and biting his lip - drawing blood in the process - on an angry impulse and they hate-fucked. The hate fucking continued from there-on. Diarmuid found it easy stress relief but Gilgamesh? He’d, well, grown fond of the “wolf in knights clothing” as it were, and was actually somewhat sad to learn of Dia’s death though he would, like, never fucking admit it. He got over it quick enough tho

Scenario 2:

Caster Gil and Lancer Dia are enemies on sight in Chaldea. Instantly doing whatever they can to fuck the other one up. But then they end up stranded somewhere with their respective Servant Powers gone (dont question it I can do whatever the fuck I want) and they have to actually, you know, work together to survive. Over time they form a friendship and once they return to Chaldea they start hanging out more 

Naturally, as you are want to do I suppose, they end up flirting. Neither of them knows when this started but Enkidu does. So Enkidu is like “hey Gil you’re polyam remember” and Gilgamesh is all “oh my god you’re right. Diarmuid you’re my boyfriend now” and Dia is like “wh - you know what sure” so now they’re dating! It’s a situation where Dia and Enki are both dating Gil but not eachother. Dia and Enkidu have a nice “friends with benefits” situation going on tho, it’s very chill

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Cure From Nippur Pt 7 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh)

They moved through the temple slowly. The windows to the outside world were shrinking as they made their way through the space. Pieces of fine clay and pigment had been broken into pieces, arranged along the hallway walls in a way that created a colorful mosaic of sorts.

Images of a grand warrior holding his arms open, beseeching to the glorious bird with the head of a lion before him. Images of a maiden sitting amongst herds of cows and goats came soon after.

There were images of a great darkness overtaking the wildlife setting. The pictures continued, drawing her eyes more than the priests that led her through the halls.

She frowned as the tiles turned to deeper reds and bolder colors. The faded image of the maiden in the field turned to a meeting of the beseeching man and the fair maiden. War colors came to the images. She could see bodies-

“Princess.”

Hakuno turned her gaze to the man before her, blinking a moment before she straightened herself.

She had been leaning forward to look at the pictures for so long that she had distracted herself from the matters at hand.

A personal goddess.

Her father had done this before with her. Her brother had chosen the god Enlil for himself, choosing a future beseeching the god of destinies for advice and wisdom. When he had found his god, the king had turned to her next, hoping she would turn to one of the other gods. Perhaps Baba for healing. Maybe Aya so that she would love a man in the same way that the goddess loved her husband, Utu.

But she had turned away from them.

She hadn’t liked the practices. She had hidden behind her brother as long as she could, finding freedom in helping him with ruling.

Until this had occurred.

Truthfully, she hadn’t paid the gods much heed before. Her knowledge of any of the gods was slim and her knowledge of individual names like Ninsun were an entire mystery.

“She will meet with you in a moment. She was fixing her headdress when I left her,” the priest informed her.

“…Thank you.”

The priest closed the door behind her without another word.

Her eyes drifted over the new room now, trying to decide how to proceed.

She was given to the king of Uruk at this point. Running would be insulting to the king and would possibly end with him going to war with Nippur. If she turned down the goddess, there was a chance that the goddess would smite her, ending with war happening.

She didn’t want a personal goddess though.

Each of the ceremonies she had seen her brother perform for the gods was overly friendly, forcing him to give more and more of himself over. To think that the gods would demand sacrifices of time and energy, even when the person was ill…

“You came quickly.” The door nearby closed as Hakuno turned around. She could see the woman moving into the room.  “You are already adorned in the Uruk palace colors and treasures, I see.”

That may have been the case, but she still was herself. She still belonged to herself.

“Well then,” the goddess moved to sit down in the throne positioned in the center of the room. “Come pray, child. We shall see if you are worthy of being given my protections.”

She wasn’t ready for this.

The goddess leaned back in her seat, smirking knowingly and motioning her forward.

However, all she saw was more of what she had just gotten away from. In fact, the king and this woman looked horribly alike. Same red eyes. Same golden hair. They had the same damn smirk too.

My life has turned into a mess.

“Come child, we don’t have all day. The king relies on you to alleviate his pain, does he not?”

Her feet carried her slowly before the woman, her eyes drifting up to her face before the woman motioned for her to kneel.

“I-I don’t know what to do,” Hakuno confessed.

“Hmm?”

The blonde stared at her, one eyebrow arching a little as she seemed to try to understand whether or not she was being honest.

“I-I don’t know how this works.” She motioned between them. “I didn’t study about the gods, I just know what my handmaidens and the servants talk about. I know Enlil handles matters related to fate and Enki makes things and Nanna is the moon and Utu the sun-“

“You exaggerate them. Their talents lie in many directions. Your organizing like like a child with colored pigments.”

She nodded, closing her eyes.

“Well?”

“I don’t know what you are a goddess of and I don’t know how to perform this ceremony. I came here to stop an insane king who was preying on my people’s maidens. I came here to resolve trouble between my people and those of Uruk.”

“You have no people. Uruk is your people and your kingdom.”

She knew that.

Gods, but she knew that and she wasn’t sure what she could even do. She was a pet in the palace, sitting like a mutt at the feet of their king. She tried to gain ground, negotiate her own welfare with an assistant to the king, but instead found herself giving away everything. She had cheapened herself through that negotiation.

And now she was tying herself to the king and standing before a goddess that could probably smite her with brimstone and fire. She could have been goddess of the underworld with Ereshkigal for all she knew.

“You are near tears,” the goddess cooed.

“I can’t go home to Nippur,” Hakuno told her. “I can’t have the people that grew around me. I cannot see to the children of Nippur nor to the elders who need a gentle hand and guidance. My brother must rule Nippur alone and my father is aging. I couldn’t do as requested and I served no purpose in the end, but to come be taken by the king of Uruk.”

Of course she was near tears after that.

Everything of meaning had been stripped away.

And it would have happened, even if she had not come to Uruk. A month’s time had done nothing but let her be the weaver of her own fate. She’d given herself, rather than the bridal market handing her over.

Hating Gilgamesh for putting her into this position was so easy though.

“Come here,” the goddess bid her again.

Hakuno stepped forward, finding her face cupped in the hands of the goddess. Ninsun, her name had been, was looking up into her face, smiling softly.

“Did you love the children in Nippur?”

“They are the future people of Nippur,” Hakuno told her. “I often played their games and read to them from the tomes in the palace libraries.”

“And the elders?”

“They are people who worked and strived to provide for the wellbeing of Nippur. They used their years to give for the people and should be treated with the love and care that they deserve.”

The goddess smiled more, stroking her hair a little. “What do you want out of this life, little former Nippur princess?”

“I want…”

She frowned at that.

She didn’t really want to go home, not to be sold to another noble or king. The assistant had not lied when she had spoken of the treatment of women. She would be a lesser being to whomever purchased her. Whether it was Gilgamesh or another, she would always end up at their feet.

“I want… I want to be a partner to someone.”

She wanted the chance like she had held in Nippur, where she could help make decisions and she could bring about change that let the people know that she cared for them. She wanted to have someone at her side that saw value in her, that strove to make her better.

“A partner,” Ninsun repeated. “How very cunning.”

It was a basic desire, she wanted to say.

But the goddess pressed her lips to one of her hands. “Then I think we shall suit one another well, you and I. The inks are simple enough. Come with me.”

She lay on the altar for a while, her hair brushed over her shoulder a moment before they began.

Slowly, with the goddess distracting her, she found her personal goddess’ mark being left upon her. Her eyes closed while it occurred. Her mind wandered over what she could do to improve her situation.

But nothing was coming to mind.

“You are done.” Ninsun helped her to her feet once more, kissing her forehead and cheeks. “If you have need for me, you may pray at any of the altars in the palace. I shall always hear. Although Ishtar may be the patron goddess of Uruk, my word takes precedence over hers.”

“Thank you, my goddess.”

The woman tilted her chin up, making her meet her gaze.

“Your situation is not as bleak as you think, my daughter. While you may not have the same children or the same elders, the Uruk people worked just as hard and the children are young and in need of guidance and love. To turn away these people because they are not from the land you were born in would be to say that their lives hold no meaning.”

“I found the king because I know every life has meaning,” Hakuno told her.

“And you are rewarded with being the Queen consort of Uruk,” Ninsun pointed out. “Your gentle heart and your determination have rewarded you a king whom none could claim.”

That was because the king was cursed.

Had he not been in need of a soulmate…

“Could you stop the curse on the king?” Hakuno asked.

“The curse is stronger than I can handle, but you will find a way to free him from it permanently,” the goddess replied simply. “Give your time with the king a chance to make things clear.”

She was escorted back to the front doors. Her body began to ache where the red lines crossed over her skin.

Once more, she found the ribbon tied around hers and Gilgamesh’s hand, the man relaxing as he touched her once more.

“You took your time.”

“It was a long process,” Hakuno told him.

“Did she say anything of note?”

A few children ran passed them on the way to the palace, pausing to greet them and earning head pats and smiles from them both.

Hakuno watched the king tell them to visit a baker a few streets over.

Maybe I can find a way around this king.

Maybe she could forge her own home within Uruk.

[mechaseraph]

Also I just want to say “Thank you” to every person who reblogs, likes and leaves nice comments on my art! ^^ It really keeps me motivated. Talking the truth, I finally started to find my art... pretty and nice to look at. I know it’s still not perfect, but I can see some improvment in it. At least the style and anatomy isn’t so cringy anymore kh. Also I started to draw much faster and better at the same time, wich is major pluse for me. I can finally draw what I like and in big... or at least medium amount :,D  So, basically, I just want to express my gratitude to people, who notice my attempts into art ha-ha... some even started calling me “senpai” ha-ha... plz don’t do that it makes me embarassed i’m still not that good (tbh literally have no idea how i’m drawing like 4/6 out of my drawing process)  And right now I’m just planning.... to draw more enkis, ‘cause drawings is the only thing I can do with them... sadly 

[modernfaepodcast]

Call for writers, creators, actors, and composers!

Modern Fae is a new audio drama that centers around Diya Greenberg, a young woman who feels lost in her life, and makes the fateful decision to move to a tiny South Texan town to manage a bookstore. Little does she realize, but Encrucijada is much, much more than it seems. It is a haven for the legendary and mythological, the shadowy and supernatural. And it is in grave danger. Here, even the shadows have shadows, and something is stirring that threatens not only to consume the whole of this bastion of the fantastical, but the entire world. As she unravels the mysteries of Encrucijada, Diya learns to rely on new friends and allies. There’s Aoife, her landlady, will-they-won’t-they girlfriend, and oh, yeah, 1000 year old warrior, the changeling twins Tik and Tok, 700 year old preteens always looking for their next mark, and Clio, Isimud, and Mr. Enki, Diya’s eccentric co-workers at The Fount Bookstore. With them at her side, Diya confronts old and new evils, and in the process discovers who she truly can be.

All positions are open for auditions and work samples from today (May 21st) to Monday, June 4th, at noon MT!

WRITERS AND CREATORS

Modern Fae is a story that is intended to be diverse and wide-ranging, and encompassing cultures, stories, and legends from all over the world. As such, the characters, beings, and themes that come from these mythologies must be represented with the utmost respect and accuracy. We ourselves only have experience with a limited scope of these mythologies and so we are looking for writers and artists from all over the world who would like to join this project and contribute to the construction of this world, and to shaping the plot and characters so as to truly represent the diversity of stories and cultures in our own. Although we currently have preliminary concepts for the plot over at least three seasons, this is all very fluid, and will be molded by everyone involved. While we welcome anyone with a passion for their native culture and stories to contribute, we particularly encourage artists of color who would like to write episodes as well as develop characters and plots behind the scenes to reach out!

Guidelines:

If you are interested in writing and/or developing the series, please send a writing sample (can be from a script or prose) to modernfaepodcast@gmail.com and also a brief description of how you would like to participate (ie writing, producing, etc).

ACTORS

Modern Fae is going to have a very large cast with many one-off and recurring characters, alongside the main cast of seven (Diya, Aoife, Tik and Tok, Mr. Enki, Clio, and Isimud). Because we don’t yet have all of the scripts and stories finished, this means we will have rolling auditions, and will occasionally cast as we go along. However, right now we will audition for the main cast (Diya and Tok have already been cast) and recurring characters from season 1.

The sides for all current characters can be found here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1k-pSe8p0CA0BeGHeEEXTON22Pp40CWS59zaMKdEQoGI/edit?usp=sharing

You may audition for as many roles as you like; however, please note that only actors of color will be considered for characters of color.

Guidelines:

1. Please make sure you have a good location to record (free of background noise as much as possible, etc) and a decent mic with which to record.

2. Send your recorded sides, along with your name (however you would like to be identified), age, gender, etc. to modernfaepodcast@gmail.com. We would prefer to cast people with similar background to the characters.

COMPOSERS

As Modern Fae will be drawing from stories all over the world, an integral part of bringing these characters and stories to life will be music. We intend to include lots of folk music when possible, but would love to supplement this with original music. Unfortunately, we are not able to provide compensation at this stage; however, we will have a Patreon running soon after the series premieres, and will do our best to compensate you per episode of composition!

Guidelines:

If you are interested, please send three samples of your work to modernfaepodcast@gmail.com. We would love to hear samples of music that are appropriate for:

1. An ominous scene

2. A comedic scene

3. A romantic scene

And to reiterate, all positions are open for auditions and work samples from today (May 21st) to Monday, June 4th, at noon MT!

[korpuskat]

To Love Your Fate, Chapter 8: Ilinx

Ao3 Mirror Rating: Teen/Mature Word Count: 3.3K Summary:  The call to your saber is strong- leading you to the planet of M'haeli with Kylo and Enki Ren.

=====

You wasted no time in unclipping your safety belt and rushing down the ramp, nearly tripping over the last inch, not quite lowered all the way to the ground.

The landing site is all grassland, covered in low, stringy pale green weeds no more than ankle high, even in your boots. The small spaceport around you lazily droned onward, a squadron of troopers marching by as the colonizers watched cautiously. Their eyes flicking between the white-armored soldiers, the large, impending wings of Kylo’s shuttle, and the stranger in odd dark robes looking lost and haggard.

Whatever reason the First Order had claimed the area- or even the planet, you weren’t entirely sure the legality- wasn’t clear, nor seemingly important. But the locals knew well enough not to poke their noses into whatever Order business was happening, and though the curiosity and wariness was pervasive in the mind of every passerby, none stopped to investigate.

The air was breathable without masks, and even fresh smelling; something faintly fruity making your mouth water. And the atmosphere (wary though it was) was an infinitely more pleasant change: behind you, two dark, tumultuous signatures lingered, their steps heavy upon the ship’s ramp, now fully extended and well mounted into the dirt.

Enki had claimed he had unrelated business on M’haeli. Even without the Force’s guidance, you had no doubt that was complete bullshit. You had no reason to trust him anyway. You watched him cautiously as he looked eastward. You felt the obnoxious, arrogant grin under his skullish mask as he glanced over his shoulder, nodding once to Kylo who did not acknowledge the Knight’s departure. Enki marched east, deeper into the busy port.

But Enki’s unwelcome, smothering presence was not the only reason you had raced onto the new world. There was something important here. Something was… singing. A low, humming melody that tugged at your legs, ached to make you follow it somewhere out of the crowds, deep into the rolling hills.

With the second Knight disappearing into the crowds, you looked back to your master. Behind his own mask, the agitation at Enki’s existence was fading; his response slowly filled with prideful anticipation. His own eagerness spilled into you- made the excitement in your belly bubble over, a smile peeling past your lips, not hidden and secret like Kylo’s.

Somewhere on this planet, your crystal was waiting for you.

Do you feel it? His voice is even, but almost breathless- the exhilaration lying unspoken, winding around your mind, mixing with your own. You nod. Could he hear the singing, too?

You take two steps forward, almost content to wander blindly through the grasslands until you found it- but a red-shouldered trooper cut you off. His armor clattered loudly as he saluted, his mask drifted between looking at you and at Kylo. “Sir,” They started- with the barest brush of their mind, you felt the prickling anxiety that made their neck hurt. They expect Kylo to be very upset- “There is a problem.”

Your eyebrows pinched on instinct- but they continued on. “There is a local group, unconnected to the Resistance, we believe, that is opposing the Order. They have blocked access to the mines. We were instructed…”

Kylo cut in- “How many crystals did you obtain?”

“Two dozen, sir. Of varying size and quality. The mine was more severely depleted than expected.”

Is the crystal near? He asked; voice injected into your mind. You suppressed a shudder. Had Kylo always been so forceful in his bonded whispers to you?

You swallowed your reservations and returned to the task at hand. You closed your eyes- and reached out. The refrain even louder when you sought it. With your mind, you followed its delicate warblings. Deep underground, far past the soft mounds of hills surrounding the colony.

Your calm confidence surprised you. No.

Kylo hummed in the back of his throat- too low for his modulator to pick up. “Are the speeders prepared?”

“Yes, sir. This way.”

The speeder is sleek and dark, a newer model of the old T-44s the Empire used. Twin engines tucked against the back corners of the craft. More interesting: two transport speeders were parked beside it, each slowly being loaded with selections of Stormtroopers. You squinted at it for a moment before Kylo’s mind was tugging at yours, urging you to get in so you both could resume your mission.

Having been subjected to Kylo’s flying thrice now, you knew well enough to hold on as he pressed down the accelerator. The force of the wind against your face was refreshing- the chill making your face tingle pleasantly.

The further away from the colony, the stronger the smell of fruit. Until you passed short brushy-looking plants that bore neon-colored fruits. Were they edible? And, if so, what creatures lived here?

“Is this where you got your crystal?” The words slipped by without thinking. You hoped, perhaps, the wind had obscured your voice- but even if it had, his power was still pressed up against your mind. He would have heard you even without your voice.

The speed of the craft faltered, slowing then surging forward once more. Kylo’s hands tightened on the control column. He’s brisker than the wind- “No.”

You quieted, any desire to pursue your curiosity snuffed out. The air resumed its loud rush, suffocating any residual words to share.

The nav system blinked, the dot of your destination appearing on screen. Wouldn’t be long now.

More an echo into your mind than a verbal statement: “I made mine.”

You blinked, looked to him. Kylo stared forward, almost unseeing over the passing greenery. He glanced at you momentarily from the corner of his eye- just long enough to acknowledge each other.

The desire to find your crystal had made you excited.To pull it from the deep, hidden heart of a strange planet had felt so right. But you had read about the technique briefly in the book Xeni had given you. It had seemed like such a long and arduous process- to meditate over a single crystal and guide its formation for several days. Without even knowing if you would have made it correctly…

You didn’t want to pursue that, though surely Kylo would have provided you with the furnace needed if you had wanted to.

Had Kylo’s crystal come out unstable? Or had it cracked later…?

You didn’t answer him, unsure how to read his mood- surely too intensely set on the mission at hand to entertain you.

The hills grew higher, and as you crested one top- you saw the gaping black hole in the terrain. Like an infected wound, it seemed to suck in all light around it. Two white armored soldiers stood at the edge- seemingly more attentive and alert than most. On guard. Actively. Something was wrong.

Kylo haphazardly parked the speeder, leaning hard on the thrust reversers. He wasted no time waiting for you, immediately climbing out and approaching the troopers.

"Sir," The Trooper on the left spoke to Kylo, as the right examined you- helmet tilting up and down in confusion, something akin to disdain floating across his mind. You raised your eyebrows, dared him to say anything. "The local population has occupied part of the mines. They have proven aggressive and violent."

Kylo gave a sharp nod in acknowledgement- as you returned your focus to him, you couldn’t help but furrow your brow. He was distant- distracted. You could feel his thoughts swirling just out of reach. "A support convoy will be arriving after us. Stay here until we return."

They each nodded, one's mask clicking against his chest plate.

You looked into the cavernous maw of the mine, the dark entrance circling down into the earth. All at once the humming washed over you. You closed your eyes, felt the power pulsing in your veins-

You felt Kylo's eyes on you from behind his mask. Watching you. He's waiting. He knew that feeling- you could tell, just from the quiet thoughts that filter into your consciousness- the knowledge that a turning point in your destiny was so close, just within your reach. Something was going to happen.

You swallow thickly and stepped into the darkness.

After the first turn, the light from the entrance was entirely gone. Kylo ignited his saber, bathing the earth in red, flickering light. The walls had been picked clean of anything interesting- leaving only crumbling dirt and rocks with the rare touch of scaffolding for support.

The mine went deep, long winding tunnels that branch off at every turn. Despite the labyrinthine maze of twists, you felt no hesitation in the path you chose, somehow guided. Even if Kylo had not illuminated your path, you would've been able to find your way to it.

A few times you heard rustling- distant movement, obscure and unfamiliar. The trooper's report of the locals made you nervous, hyperaware of any sound that wasn't made by you or Kylo- but you never saw anyone else.

And then

You saw it.

An odd changing of the light, something strange- no longer just the crimson of Kylo's blade. You approached it- wiped the top layer of dirt off the wall, revealing the source to you. Embedded in the dirt, packed tightly into the wall was a glowing stone. The crystal shone a bright, cyanic blue, resonating and humming softly against your fingers- charged with power.

"That one?" Kylo's voice broke the serenity of the song-- almost concerned with the choice.

You turned the crystal in your hands, noted the inner swirling teal. You felt it with the Force, sweeping through the power the small stone held. "No,” You sigh, rolling the crystal once more. “But it's near."

You hesitated- then pressed the crystal back into the wall, unsure what else to do with it. It felt wrong to take a crystal that wasn't... your crystal. Clearly the Order still desired them, having commandeered this mine.

But the singing was so close now, soon drawing you through the darkness, passing other dots of light, hidden power in the walls of the mine. Sparkling lights unseen, each humming their own notes. Together, they should have been a cacophony, a thundering racket that drowned out all other senses-- but even with dozens, hundreds of the mystical rocks around you, it was still soothing, melodious.

You turned a corner, and it’s there. A jolt of power, of recognition sparking over your skin. You stopped, struggled to breathe through the moment. This was it. You knew it.

You surged forward all at once, nearly tripping over yourself with a new strength in each successive step. The stone emitted no visible light- buried too far into the walls of the cavern, but you could see it. The swirling, pulsing of Force energy that called to you so sweetly.

You dug into the walls- your gloves unable to stop the occasional sharp point of compacted dirt from digging into the flesh of your palm with your careless, driven search. You dislodged one stone- dropping it blindly on the mine’s floor, and you could see it. Truly see it, shining out into the darkness.

The gemstone was so small, hardly larger than your thumb. Slightly oblong, rounded and smooth to the touch. And magenta. A brilliant red-purple that sang against your fingertips. Any previous wonder of what it would be like was gone- the answers all felt so obvious. Of course it looked like this, how could it not? It had to be this way.

You rolled the crystal in your palm, feeling the power trapped inside. Kylo stepped closer, staring over your shoulder at it.

“This one?” His voice rumbled, dancing and blending with the melody until it began to fade. The stone was quiet now-- all the others were gone as well, dropping into a knowing, comfortable silence. Just the echoing of Kylo and yours breathing and the merciless spitting of his lightsaber.

You licked your lips. “Yeah.”

Navigating your way back was less easy- with your beacon in hand, the supernatural guidance you’d had was gone. But at least Kylo seemed to know his way back- or perhaps he was feeling a sort of beacon of his own. The desire to connect with him (more deeply than the surface skimming that always seemed to slip between you) was a deep ache in your chest. But it felt wrong, somehow. Out of place.

Kylo was so focused- so intent on returning to the speeder and ultimately to the Finalizer. His attention only upon the task at hand. Not lost in the strange newness that you were still rolling in your palm.

You didn’t even see it.

The adrenaline poured so fast into Kylo’s veins you can feel its echo in yours, suddenly taught and ready to spring-- and then the screeching hum of his crackling blade swinging up through the air, its red light shifting over the walls. The lightsaber spat,slicing through something in the air- burning hot fragments spraying across his arm, across your dark robes.

You ran on instinct- on the training the Order and Kylo had both instilled deep inside. You dropped low, covered your face protectively, sought the source of aggression. And there- amongst the dark shadows of the mine, standing at the convergence of a fork, was a boy.

You blinked, stared at him, tried to piece the visual together in your mind. A boy. No more than ten cycles. A child stood before you, his hand shaking around the hilt to a blade. His mind was so open- he’s terrified, though you wouldn’t need the Force to know that. But there’s a determination behind the fear, something you know all too well.

It was what drove you through your weeks of separation, after all. The primal need and connection to something. The same brush against Kylo’s mind yields only confusion, unsure how to… deal with this.

The boy lifted the blade- held it with both hands before him, the point leveled at you. The sensation of the ridges Kylo’s lightsaber bit into your hand, hard and unforgiving as his grip tightened.

You went rigid. Deal with him. Kylo wouldn’t...

You could see it now- the edge of the knife (surely too short to truly be a sword) so defined, it wasn’t even a vibroblade. Nothing more severe than you would find in a kitchen. He wasn’t a threat.

He opened his mouth once, but struggled to find the words, closing it again in silence. Only the sounds of pounding blood and the crackling of Kylo’s saber in your ears. The boy licks his lips and tries again.

“Y-you can’t have it.”

You tilt your head, try to process his words. Kylo didn’t need that time- he took one step forward, edging himself between the child and yourself. The intent behind it is so subtle you almost didn’t feel it- “You will leave.”

The boy’s grip only tightened, the fiery determination flashing in his eyes. “You can’t have it. You’ve taken enough.”

Kylo sneered, his lip twitching upward, the feeling echoing through the Force. His power is unmistakable this time- his off hand extended outward- ”Go home.”

The child struggled against it- blinking and shaking his head. The constant spitting of Kylo’s lightsaber kept you on edge- if the boy broke free of the impulse…. You bit your lip and looked to him. Kylo wouldn’t kill him, would he? He was essentially unarmed and alone, no real threat to either of you. You wouldn’t let him.

But it seemed you wouldn’t need to stop him.

The boy’s shoulders slowly loosened, his hands dropping to his sides. His eyebrows twitched together, confused and concerned- like walking into a room and forgetting what he’d been doing. “I… will go home…”

He began to walk back- two steps into the deep darkness ahead. Kylo exhaled slowly, the tension ebbing away in sluggish waves. You approached slowly- as though he were a frightened loth cat- and touch his upper arm. He looked to you, then. Something unspoken- verbally or mentally- passed between you.

You were so focused on Kylo’s own return to ease that you didn’t feel it.

“Wait,” The boy spoke again- facing deep into the mine ahead. You blinked, looked back to his tiny form-

“Who are-” his voice dropped into a soft whine- and the nauseating note of shattering bones popping out of place was all that followed. His neck wrenched unnaturally back towards you, his eyes still glossed over from Kylo’s command. The miniscule power that had kept him upright dissipated, dropping him to the rough mine floor.

You couldn’t breathe- eyes locked with the child’s even as you knew he was gone. Time seemed to drag on, eons passing before you could even register the boots standing on the other side of the child’s body.

Black. Synthleather- your eyes travelling upward on habit, even as you knew who it was. The skull-like mask of Enki stared unseeingly back at you. But you could feel it. He’d felt nothing in doing that, no joy in snapping someone’s neck (no, no, you knew now, could feel it in the horrible, vile mess of Enki Ren’s mind that he enjoyed the violence not just the murder).

But now he looked to you. And he felt it. In your shock your outermost defenses fell without a fight, and he could feel your shock, your… your disgust. And you knew, even without the Force, the exact sick grin that had settled over his blue lips.

Your hand clenched hard around the crystal, the edges digging into the flesh of your palm. And you- you needed it, needed to feel the crunch of broken bones, to make him bleed for this. The darkness curled around your fist with ease, a vambrace of your rage-

A fierce pain around your arm, tight and demanding. You didn’t even recognize it as Kylo’s hand, biting deep into your skin, leaving a violet ring for tomorrow. You can’t look at him. You can’t.

Because you knew. You knew Kylo wasn’t the least upset about Enki’s outright murder, and you knew Kylo could’ve, would have killed him just the same. The darkness was so overwhelming in him- so cold and empty, a shell around what you truly loved.

Your head spun, lightheaded and nauseous. You didn’t even register that you were being pulled away, lead past the body, the Knight, and the two rows of white-armored Stormtroopers lined behind him. Your mind was silent, nothing but static and emptiness, vision bobbing freely as you ascended back out of the mine.

The sunlight was too bright, made you cringe, shield yourself against it.

Kylo lead you back to the speeder, guiding you to sit down. He said nothing as he sat beside you and started the engine.

The words were so quiet as they leave your mouth, you wonder how Kylo had even heard you. “There are children in the Resistance.”

There’s no emotion at all behind his staccato “Yes.”

Upon return to the base, Kylo informed the crew they would be taking a different shuttle back. You followed him, perhaps by habit or perhaps because you wouldn’t have any clue what to do without him- or, or had he been compelling you…?

I wouldn’t. He whispered into your mind. Quiet. Soothing.

You suppressed the need to retch, settle for a cold shiver down your spine and the world tilting on its axis, spinning uncomfortably as he settled you into the copilot’s seat. Though you survived take off and breaking free of M’haeli’s atmosphere, the shuddering of the command shuttle was nothing next to the openness of Kylo’s mind.

Because he wanted nothing more than to hold your hand, to gather you into his arms and guide you, to explain everything you needed to know- everything you needed.

It’s hard. He didn’t even look to you, stared unseeingly through the transparisteel. You’ll get better.

Better. Was this your fate now? You swallowed down tears, turned the purple stone in your hand.

I know you will.

[starryopals-art]

“Day 5: HUMILIATION”

Samon couldn’t look anyone in the eye for a week after this.

For Kinktober2017.

{ Like my work? Please consider buying me a Ko-Fi! }

{ DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT MY PERMISSION & CREDIT }

Reminder that I looooove comments! So don’t be shy!

Turns out I can draw and ink a lot faster and better as opposed to working in just graphite, which is a bigger clean up process.

Anyway, “humiliation” is rather personal so I went with scolding / being talked down to in public. Or being publicly reprimanded. Personally, I’ve bee humiliated for many things during my whole life - even for really dumb stuff. A long time ago I broke down crying when reprimanded publicly, but now I just take it because crying just gives more reason to humiliate me.

So I couldn’t bring myself to make this sexual. In case it’s not clear, Samon does not like what’s happening here, at all. He’s mortified, knows he’s disappointed Enki, and he’s sobbing like a child while Enki is getting onto him for behaving like a child in the first place. Which is even more humiliating for Samon.

I’ve never liked being reprimanded / scolded / lectured since I’m painfully aware of my own shit and being told what I know by someone else just reminds me of how worthless and pathetic I believe I am, deep down. I’m fine otherwise, but I’ll cry at the drop of a hat if you remind me of how pitiful I am and then I’ll be more upset for crying so easily.

But yeah. I lost track of where I was going with this. Anyway, if you’re wondering why Enki stuck his thumb in Samon’s mouth... idk. I just wanted to draw it.

[tipsycad147]

Magickal Gardening

By shirleytwofeathers

Magickal and healing herb gardens are sanctuaries of the soul. Indeed, any garden is a magickal on to the Witch. It isn’t long before we walk along our Earth based path that we as Pagans, Wiccans and Witches feel the need to play in the dirt. There is a spiritual need and excitement when sinking our hands deep into the earth or nourishing and caring and watching a plant grow into maturity. This alone is pure Earth Magick. Stable and strong.

Gardens can be both products of enchantment and independent producers of enchantment; they are a living, on-going magic spell. Gardens may be arranged in any variety of ways – colour-coordinated, whatever was on sale at the nursery, even completely haphazardly. If you select, coordinate, and arrange plants according to the magic powers they radiate, then planting a garden becomes one style of casting a spell.

Thus your desire to draw wealth, protection, or fertility to one’s home is manifested by carefully arranging the appropriate plants, and vigilantly removing those possessing opposing, contradictory powers.

This obviously is a long-term extended magic spell, rather than the type of quick-fix luck spell you might choose for a spontaneous trip to a casino. How will you benefit from this type of garden spell?

The actual spell-casting and then time spent among the botanicals and their radiant energy creates the desired adjustment on your own energy.

The radiant energy of the coordinated garden draws and/or repels the targeted goal to you and your home in a more powerful manner than one botanical or amulet could achieve alone.

This spell is a symbiotic, reciprocal process, which ultimately strengthens all living participants for their mutual benefit. The garden will additionally attract complementary animal and spirit allies who will also contribute to the success of your spell.

This type of magic spell is not limited to those with access to personal property or sunny weather. Magick spell gardens may be created indoors in pots. Furthermore, an entire garden need not be created; one or two individual plants may be grown as part of a magic spell or to further other magic spells.

Some other ways to bring magick into your witches garden are as follows:

Decorate your pots or other gardening tools with symbols and/or runes.

Place clear quartz crystals or moss agate (the gardeners stone) within the soil to amplify and charge your plants and help your plants flourish and grow.

Water your plants with water that has been blessed and charged, this will also amplify and nourish your plants.

Create a moon charged gem elixir with clear quartz, excellent for watering your plants.

During the growing season you may chose to do a mini-full moon ritual to give thanks and gratitude to Gaia for abundantly blessing you with her sacred gifts of nature.

More About Gardens

The earliest formal record of gardening dates back to a stone tablet from Mesopotamia circa 4000 BC. It describes how Enki, the Sumerian God of Water, provided fresh water to the dry land and thereby produced fruit trees and fields from a desert like land. By 2250 BC, the famed Hanging Gardens of Babylon were well established in the capital of Sumeria. These are considered to be the forerunners of gardens today.

In Ancient Persia, (modern day Iraq), gardens were the playground of life. They serves as a place of solace, a gathering place for friends and family, and a formal extension of the home outdoors. These gardens were called “Paradise” and were thought to be an earthly view of what heaven must be like. They were cultivated carefully and tended to lovingly. Due to the desert conditions of the area, the gardens were usually enclosed by high walls. Many had aqueducts installed to maintain the irrigation needed for the gardens to thrive. Most often these gardens were formed into a square pattern and further divided into four smaller squares. Fountains and water channels were an important part of the architecture of the gardens. The gardens were said to have two of every fruit tree and plenty of places for sitting so that one could rest and enjoy the view.

Zen gardening is considered an art form by many. A Zen garden is a dry-landscape style of garden consisting of sand trails raked into intricate patterns. Often, the trails are not made of sand at all but rather a crushed type of granite, a very fine gravel. Many times the gravel pathways circle a rock or bush. The purpose of Zen gardening (the raking of the gravels) is to provoke contemplation and meditation. These gardens are thought to be very peaceful and restful to the eyes.

Traditional Japanese gardens invoke a sense of peace and tranquillity in both the gardener and the person lucky enough to view the garden. According to the principles of Japanese gardening, each element introduced must be something that could occur naturally. For example, you can find a waterfall in nature, but not a fountain. Hence, a fountain has no place in a traditional Japanese garden.

Knot gardens are by far one of the most fantastical types of magickal gardens. They can weave a spell right into the landscape. A know garden is a very formal, precise arrangement of plants and tress. To create a magickal knot garden, choose an herb that corresponds to your intent and plant it in a pattern. The pattern can be as intricate or a simple as you wish. It can be a symbol, meant to reaffirm the spell, or any pattern that you like.

The ancient Romans brought their gardens inside the home and invented the atrium. Many times the atrium was placed in the centre of the home. The area was left roofless and was usually surrounded by walkways. It may have held reflecting pools, herbal gardens and fruit trees.

One of today’s most popular magickal-gardening practices is moon gardening. This technique uses an ancient system of moon phases and astrological placements to calculate planting and harvesting times. In a moon garden, white and night blooming flowers are the main ornaments.

Source: Element Encyclopedia of 5000 Spells and the Elemental Witch

https://shirleytwofeathers.com/The_Blog/bookofshadows/magickal-gardening/

[sanzoumon]

I’m just a simple woman who wants to draw shameless torture pron. Specifically of Samon and Enki being tortured and turned into husks of their former selves in the process. Like in two different comics or whatever.

And sometimes, regardless of how little sense it makes, I just want Samon to knee Enki in the face when Enki can’t defend himself (like while in prison) and end up breaking Enki’s nose. Among other things like that, like generally just Samon taking advantage of their guard-prisoner dynamic and taking out his anger and feelings of betrayal on Enki when he knows Enki’s chi is suppressed and can’t do anything to stop him. And Enki would be shocked at first but wouldn’t complain, just letting Samon use him as a punching bag. But eventually it would start to get to him and he’d start apologizing, but he’d never tell Samon why he killed that inmate because even now he can’t put Samon in danger. And the whole time Enki would believe that he deserved this for what he’s done.

Or idk just things like that. I love me some smuff, do not get me wrong, but sometimes I like seeing characters behave in irrational, emotional ways that are uncharacteristic of how they usually act because they’re being more emotional, stressed, and irrational in this situation and they justify their horrible actions because of it.

Of course canonically I don’t think Samon would ever do that. Tho I do think Enki would just silently take the abuse.

Long story short, I love those monkeys and I want to hurt them. Particularly Enki, he’s so pretty that I just wanna bash his face in. And he’s such a pillar of strength that I wanna knock him down and make him realize just how weak he really is.

But I gotta make choices on what to draw cuz I have carpel tunnel that’s getting worse and I only have so much time on my hands. And I’ve got too many ideas. Ugh.

Idk, I just like dark content.

[suulphr]

ALL HAIL TO THE BLACK IN TOMORROWS NIGHT, THE NEXT IS FORTH AND FORWARD, THE BLACK IN MY EYES IS TURNING CORDLESS UPWARD, SKYWARD

HIGH TO LOW AND TIDES RECEDING, RECOILING AS THE METAL FALLS UNSTABLE AND EXPANDS HOT AND DE-SHAPES THE LAND THAT IS SOAKED AFTER HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF YEARS OF BLOODSHED THAT LEADS TO FLOODING AND EATS THE STORY ALIVE. THIS IS THE STORY OF BLOOD.

THE PACK OF HUNGRY LIONS HEARS THE DISTRESS CALL OF A YOUNG GIRL AND HER YOUNG BLOOD IS RECTIFIED AND MOVES CAREFREE BUT CAREFUL AND STEPPING AROUND INNOCENCE UNTIL SHE IS ALONE, THE LIONS FOLLOW HER TO THE ROAD. THE SOULLESS MEN LEFT UNREMEMBERED AND BLOODY IN THE WOODED JUNGLE TURN COLD.

WHY ARE YOU HAUNTED? YOU COULD WANDER FOREVER, JUST WALK RIGHT OFF THE EDGE.

BLUE LINOLEUM AND PINK GLASS MILK PITCHERS CIRCA 1991

SANDCASTLES TOPPLING IN LIVING ROOMS,

HOODED GLOWING EYES UNDER HOODS RIDING DEATHLESS ON HORSEBACK TO THE BLACKENED NIGHT-VEIL

A CAMOUFLAGED COLLAGE OF FRESH RED MEAT AND TEETH BARED TO THE GROUND OVER TAPE-DRAWN BODIES OUTLINED AND BLOOD SPATTERED PATTERNS MIMICKING OVERFLOWING RIVERBEDS SWELLED TO LAKES AND COOLING LAVA

//OUR SANTA MUERTE, O GREAT LADY OF DEATH, WHO WILL COME FOR US ALL, KIND AND GENTLE BE YOUR KISS. WHEN YOU COME TO END MY LIFE, MAY I BE FREE OF ANY REGRETS. THANK YOU FOR THIS DAY, ONE MORE BEAUTIFUL DAY, THAT I MAY HAVE IT TO LIVE, LOVE, AND LAUGH MY OWN WAY. AMEN. - -

THAT MAYBE IF MY ENVIRONMENT IS WORKING WITH MY AMBITIONS TO STAY CLEAN AND HEALTHY, THERE STILL MIGHT BE A POSSIBILITY THAT THEY’LL SAW CLEAN THROUGH THE HINGED-FRAME OF MY SNOW-COLORED SKULL LIKE GIFT-WRAPPING OVER A HARD-COVER BOOK AND MY THOUGHTS COULD STILL BREATHE FREE, CLEAN LIKE POEMS DOTTING THE EDGES OF LINED PAPER LIKE FLOATING SINGING PRAYER FLAGS LIGHTING UP IN THE WIND AND SUNNED-STRETCH SHOW OF SHINING SNOW BLANKETING HIGHTOP MOUNTAINS WHILE STUDENTS OF THE UNKNOWABLE AND DIVINE REALMS LEAVE THEIR BLOOD AND BODIES AND COME BACK FROM OVERLOOKING INFINITE WORLDS BELOW.

PRAYING FOR PEACE, AND NOT TO BE EATEN ALIVE, AT LEAST NOT WITH THIS MUCH HATE FOR THE IGNORANT WHO KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO AND ACID-DAMP-COLD-BUT-BURNING FLESHING OUT THE UNTIMED MOVEMENTS TRYING TO CLEAVE A SPACE FOR ANYTHING BRIGHT AND TEMPERATE, NON-EXTREME, SO I DON’T HAVE TO PASS DOWN THE CONFUSION AND SOMEONE STRUGGLES TO GET THE POISON OUT OF DIRTY NAILS, UNBITTEN BUT UNKEPT AND TOO-BUSY SCREAMING TO FIND THE RUBBING ALCOHOL AND NOT EDUCATED ENOUGH TO KNOW WHETHER IT WILL HELP OR NOT.

YOU CAN PUT ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL ON AREAS OF THE SKIN TOUCHED BY POISON IVY TO AVOID A RASH BUT IF YOU PUT IT ON A SNAKE BITE IT WILL SLOW THE HEALING PROCESS, MOVING AROUND WILL MAKE THE VENOM SPREAD FASTER THROUGH THE BODY. A SNAKE CAN MISTAKE ITS OWN TAIL FOR PREY AND ACCIDENTALLY POISON ITSELF, WHILE SOME SPECIES HAVE BECOME IMMUNE TO THEIR OWN VENOM.

“It never gets easier, you just get better.”

CALM DOWN, WALK LIGHT OVER THE GATE, OVER THE BRIDGE, UNDER IT ON TOO-HOT DAYS, VISION BLURRING OR MELTING AS THE WIND PICKS UP, FATED, SOMETHING ILL AND NUMB STIRRING IN THE EYES-SIDING ALONG AND SILENTLY PRAYING FOR DEATH.

The Sumerians told a story that said while Enki and Ninmah were setting to create the earth, as lesser gods, they were burdened by the task and complained to the primeval mother, Namma, about their hard work. She then urged Enki to create a substitute to complete the work for them, she took up clay to knead and gave birth to the first humans. Enki was then tasked to “educate” them. I AM SELFBORN FROM THE THE HEART OF THE MOVING LAND. I REMEMBER THE DAY STRANGE MEN LOOKING TORN FROM THE HIGHER DENSITY DESCENDED FROM THE SKY TO ALREADY FERTILE LAND LOOKING FOR SOME FALSE EXPANSION THEY BROUGHT OVER FROM ANOTHER STAR SYSTEM. HOW MUCH WEIGHT IS MY FLOATING BLOOD WORTH IN MONOATOMIC GOLD AND WHERE DOES THE SEA TURN INTO THE SHORE AND WHATS THE LINE BETWEEN THE SHORE AND THE SAND.

DON’T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU SEE, IF LIFE HAS NO GUARANTEE THAN DEATH IS JUST ON VACATION AND I’M RECITING ANCIENT POEMS THAT ARE TUGGING INFINITE AND MERCILESSLY ON THE ROPES HIDING, DESCENDING BELOW THE RING-EDGE OF THE WELL SWINGING MY HEART DRUNK ON BLOOD AND HOW SILLY THAT I USED TO THINK NO ONE WOULD REMEMBER ME AND HOW NOW I AM RE-READING WORDS WRITTEN SOFTLY BY FIRELIGHT A HANDFUL OF STRETCHED CENTURIES-WORTH OF LETTERS AND POSTCARDS AWAY FROM ME WHERE I AM AND BY HANDS NO LONGER MOVING WITH THEIR BLOOD BUT IM GLEAMING, SMILING WIDE ON THE INSIDE AND THINKING ABOUT REVENGE AND CONSEQUENCES AND BARRIERS AND BORDERS AND RED ROOMS, RED SHOES BURNED BLACK AND TURNED ASH, RED HARD-COVER BOOKS AND PAINTED-WHITE BRICK CELLS A HOP OVER FROM THE IDEA OF THE FUTURE NEXT TO A BURNING HASH BUSH AND FALLING REGIMES MASKING DECAY LIKE A DEATH DECOY.

OLD TAPES AND OLD BOOKS DESTROYED.

I’M THINKING SOFTLY ABOUT LEAVING AND NEVER COMING BACK AND THEN RABBITS FOOT SCREECHING GOOD-LUCK DREAMS AND ROOTS AND SKIES AND SEEDS AND SEA-CLEAN-SUN-VISION-REEF-OF-LIVING-SCENES. I’M BREATHING FOR FREE.

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOS HIGHLIGHTING THE STRUCTURAL CONSISTENCY OF CHAOS AND HOW NATURE BENDS ITSELF FOREVER UPWARD TOWARD LIFE, FOREVER CIRCLING DOWN TOUCHING SOIL TO SOUL TO ROOT AND SAP-BLOOD CASCADING LIKE ANY OLD PIECE OF AMBER POLISHING A RACKET INSIDE THE TUMBLER AND FINDING MOVEMENT AGAIN ACROSS OPEN ROADS AND SHADE AND LIGHT CUTTING THROUGH THE WINDOWS.

I NEVER THOUGHT THAT I WOULD GET HERE TO WHERE I AM NOW, HAPPY AND LEANING INTO IT STILL NOT EXPECTING ANYTHING, STRETCHING COLD BUT GETTING THERE AND IM TRYING NOT TO BURN EVERYTHING I TOUCH BUT I FEEL THIS LIGHT HEAT-CRACKING THROUGH ALL THE SCARS IN MY SKIN. VOICE TAPPING UNSURE AT MY THROAT AND I STILL HAVE HOPE BUT ITS NOT MUCH BUT I GUESS I AM MAKING IT ENOUGH.

I SEE EYES MILES AWAY GLOWING THROUGH DENSE DARK TREES, TIME-TRAVELING STANDING STILL TO 1977 IN FRANCE FOR THE LAST PUBLIC EXECUTION BY GUILLOTINE, HE DIED 12 DAYS AWAY FROM HIS BIRTHDAY AT 27 YEARS OLD AFTER KIDNAPPING AND MURDERING HIS 22 YEAR OLD GIRLFRIEND. HIS DEFENSE REVOLVED AROUND THE AMPUTATION OF HIS LEG SIX YEARS EARLIER WHICH HIS LAWYER CLAIMED HAD DRIVEN HIM TO ALCOHOL ABUSE AND VIOLENCE, “TURNING HIM INTO A DIFFERENT MAN.”

I PICTURE A BEHEADED GHOST WALKING AROUND CARRYING HIS HEAD AND TRYING TO FEED HIMSELF RED-WINE AND IT JUST FALLS THROUGH THE EXPOSED WINDPIPE. HE INTRODUCES HIS HEADLESS BODY TO THE BODY-LESS HEAD AND THEN ASKS HIMSELF HOW DID HE GET SO AT CHEST-LEVEL?

PICTURE OF BLOOD CLIMBING THE GRAVITY FROM THE THIRD-STORY CRASHED WINDOW TO THE FLOOR BELOW.

SOAKED-RED MEDICAL TOOLS, LACE-WHITE DOILIES MUTING THE DARK METAL CLANK OF THE GUN SET AGAINST THE WARM WOODEN NIGHTSTAND, NEXT TO THE CERAMIC-WHITE CHERUB STATUE AND THE OFF-WHITE LAMP LIGHTING THE GREEN ARMCHAIR. CHRISTMAS COLORS A NAIVE SENTIMENTALITY CONTRASTED AGAINST THE HALO OF BRIGHT BLOOD AND BRAIN-MATTER PAINTING THE WHITE WALL RED AND TURNING MY LUNCH INTO SICK OPEN-AIR GREEN. THE CARDINALS SINGING IN THE BRANCH-SHADE-COOLING-BUT-LIGHT-SKIP PEPPERED ORGANIZED CHAOS OF PINE TREES PROTRUDING SPIKED AND EVERGREEN FROM THE COLD AND WARM GROUND. THE SOUND IS CLEAN.

THE COMPLICATED OVER-GLORIFIED MOLTOV COCKTAIL TURNS-MISSES THE CROWD AND HITS ARMORED POLICE.

THE FIRE TRANSMUTES INTO GOLDEN-POISON-ORANGE FROM THE PAINTED IMAGE OF ARMY GREEN, CRACK-POP-SPARKLING THE METAL LIKE REMEMBER HOW YOU GOT THIS SHAPE, THE SUN BOILED THE WOOD FOR THE PENCIL TO DRAW THIS BLUEPRINT OF IMPOSING PUKE-GRIME-SALT-AND-SCUM-OF-NATURES-HYBRID-DEATH-TALKERS HAILING A COLOR AND STALKING BLOOD AND DROWNING IN IT WHILE TRYING TO CAMOUFLAGE INTO THE HEAVY WOODLAND, DODGING GREEN SWAYING TREES, NOT REALIZING RED IS THE DIRECT OPPOSITE COLOR ON THE PAINTERS WHEEL MEANING CONTRAST HIGHLIGHTS IRONY AND THE NIGHT IS BLACK LIKE CLOSING YOUR EYES. MOVEMENT IS EASIER TO DEFINE THAN COLOR. THE SOUND IS CLEAN, THE POISON-ORANGE SPARK REVERTS-OPPOSITE IMPRINTING THE SPOT TURQUOISE TO THE FLESH OF THE EYE. THE SILENCED FOOTSTEPS ARE HEAVY WITH THE QUIET UNCLEAN PAUSE-BEAT OF TWILIGHT SEARCHING FOR SMALLER, QUIET VOICES TRAINED ON THE SHAPE OF THE LIGHT FIXTURE, FOCUSED PATIENT ON FLESHY GREEN ROADS LINED IN CONSISTENT LEAVING AND ALMOST LEAVING AND SOMETIMES COMING BACK FOR A CAMERA SUSPENDED TRI-LEGGED AND SHUTTER OPEN 30 MINUTES TO GET THE SHAPE OF THE LIGHT BENDING EXTENDED AND JUST MOVING ALONG BRANCHES AS THE LINE BETWEEN THE DAY AND THE NIGHT FADES FROM INKWELL, TO DARK END OF THE OCEAN, TO FOREST-FIRE-SMOKE YELLOW-GREY, TO POTENT-CLEAR BUT NOT SATURATED LILAC, THEN MORNING HEAT MELTING THE AIR INTO COTTON-CANDY BLUE UNTIL ITS TOO STUCK-STICKY-SWEET TO KEEP SLEEPING. YOU HAVE THE PICTURE AND NOW YOU HAVE THE DREAM OF RUNNING THROUGH THE DARK JUNGLE HEARING THE TREES WHINE AND SING WAR SONGS OUT OF STANDARD TIME WITH THE PARADE-LINE. THE IMPACT SITE OF BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA TO THE LEFT RIBS SETTLES AND BRUISES INTO THE SHAPE OF A SKULL AND HERES THE CROSSROADS: IF IT IS A WARNING OR A WINK FROM FALLEN BLOOD. LEARNING TO FALL RIGHT, STEPPING IN FRONT OR FALLING TO THE FLOOR, SETTING TRAPS AND GUARDING WATCHING, WAITING FOR THE BLOOD TO MOVE OXIDIZING SKYWARD AND BROKEN, VERSUS GETTING OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN AND REMINDING YOURSELF OF BLACK SILHOUETTES STANDING SKYWARD WITH ARMS RAISED OVER RAGING FIRES.

[bestforlessmove]

Hurricanes Harvey and Irma Will Devastate Lives. Will They Forever Damage Property Values Too?

Win McNamee/Getty Images

It's looking like a once-in-a-generationhurricane season for the southeastern United States. Harvey has left at least 70 people dead and batterednearly 200,000 homes along the southern border of Texas and Louisiana. Meanwhile, Irma has wrecked several Caribbean islands and is threatening Florida and other portions of the coast with the prospect of more lives and homes lost, and years of painful rebuilding.

Once lives no longer hang in the balance, the attention inevitably will turn to longer-term devastation: What happens to the real estate in those storm-ravaged towns and cities?

It mightnot be what you think.

While many assume that residents will abandon their homes en masse and property values will plummet after a big natural disaster-as happened in some New Orleans neighborhoods afterHurricane Katrina in 2005-that's not always the case. In fact,with Hurricanes Jose and Katia brewing offshorebehind Irma, a look back at the two most destructive stormsin recent U.S. history, Katrina and Sandy, show just how dramatically the levels of destruction and speed of recovery can vary.

We seea big disconnect betweenthe [neighborhoods] that were hit and those that were not hit in some storms, even within the same city, saysTodd Tomalak, vice president of research at John Burns Real Estate Consulting, a nationwide firm. The areas nearby not directly hit by the storm continue chugging along.

And while prices are likely to drop initially, they usually don't crash entirely. They're likely to rebound within a few years.

Hurricane Harvey: Disastrous flooding and contaminated water

Flooding in Houston

Scott Olson/Getty Images

Houston home sales, of course, haveslowed since Harvey deluged the city. But not all homeowners across themetro area are feeling the same pain. Homes in areas that didn't flood mightactually be worthmore now than they did before the floods, asfolks whose propertieswere badly damaged begin to look in earnest for safer places to live.

This has happened in previous (albeit smaller) Houstonstorms. In the city's Meyerland neighborhood, which has flooded four times since 2015, median prices fell by 16% year over year after the third flood, according to John Burns. However, property values in the rest of the city went up.

In a flood like this, if you're high and dry, you're considered to be a very attractive address, says Houston-based real estate brokerCheri Famaof John Daugherty Realtors.

Harvey will cost Texansabout $40 billion to $50 billion in repairs and rebuilds, according to Enki Holdings, a Savannah, GAbased disaster data analytics firm. An estimated 10% to 15% of those homes are beyond repair and will need to be demolished.

It's a mess to clean up. But manystructures willprobably not be lost,saysChuck Watson, director of research and development at Enki Holdings. That's a very big difference with Katrina. With Katrina, the flooding reached all of the way up to the rafters.

The problem is that the longer the homes are underwater, the more damage is done, as the water seeps into the walls and compromises the structures. That's what happened in New Orleans. On the other hand, if the water inundates a home and then runs out all at once, the impact could weaken the already compromised structures and the homes could collapse.

It's a Catch-22, Watson says. You want it to drain out fast, but not too fast.

One big advantage Houston has over New Orleans afterKatrina is that the Texas city sits above sea level. That means the water will drain out on its own. In New Orleans, the water had to be pumped out.

But the Houston-area water is more contaminated with chemicals, oil, and sewage.

All of a sudden you have to go a lot further in cleaning the mess up and drawing the water, says real estate appraiser Orell Anderson of Strategic Property Analytics in Laguna Beach, CA, who worked in New Orleans afterKatrina. This is due to the many chemical and oil facilitiesas well as the 13 Houston-area toxic waste sites that flooded.

You've got bacteria and fungus and sewage in your walls, Anderson says. That takes a lot more than just drying up the carpet.

Despite all of this, local home prices probably won't fall as much as initially feared, says national real estate appraiser Jonathan Miller, who worked on Sandy-damaged homes after the 2012 storm. That's becausemany of these affected homeowners have mortgages they still need to repay, so they can't afford to sell at a big discount. They're more likely to fix up their homes and wait a bit until the market improves.

However, the storm mightlead to a rash of foreclosures and short sales in Houston from homeowners living paycheck to paycheck who lost jobs or can't come up with the moneyfor large-scale repair jobs.

And the disaster could have big ramifications in the rest of the state. Texas is currently facing a housing shortage as more companies, and therefore workers in need of housing, relocate to the region for its lower taxes and cost of living. But with construction labor and materials headed to help rebuild Houston, fewer sorely needed homes will go up in the other parts of the state. And that could push prices straight up.

Hurricane Irma: A catastrophe in the making

Buildings damagedby Hurricane Irma on the Caribbean island of Saint Martin

LIONEL CHAMOISEAU/AFP/Getty Images

The scope of destruction that Hurricane Irma will inflict on the U.S. is still unknown. As of this writing, the storm has already killed 18 people in the Caribbean andisprojected to reach South Florida on Saturday.

Little wobbles [in the storm's path] can make a big difference, says Enki Holdings' Watson. There's a whole bunch of 'ifs.'

Nearly 8.5 million Florida residential and commercial properties have a high, very high, or extreme risk of wind damage from Irma, according to real estate data provider Core Logic. The company estimates that about 3.5 million properties are at risk from storm surge damage.

The luxury, waterfront high-rises along the Florida coast are likely to be battered by the hurricane and storm surges from the ocean. Some condos in Miami could lose 30% of their value-or much more-as a result, says Deerfield Beach, FLbased real estate consultantJack McCabe.

About three-quarters of the units in these fancy Miami Beach towers are owned by foreign investors, the majority of whom don't live in them full time, according to McCabe. (Florida is the top destination for foreign buyers, who made up about 22% of the state's overall purchases as ofMarch 2017, according to the National Association of Realtors.)

Investors whohadn't sold yet are going to start dumping these things even if they have to lose money, McCabe says. This is going to cause a lot of people to change their minds about having a condo on the beach in South Florida.

Worsening matters is rebuilding efforts in Florida won'tbe cheap. The city is so far south that finding masses of construction workers and transporting materials will likely cost farmore than the rebuilding efforts in Texas.

Delays to rebuilding: Not enough homeowners have flood insurance

Compounding the rebuilding challenges: The majority of homeowners likely to be hurt by these disasters do nothave flood insurance. It's estimated that about 80% to 85% of Houston homeowners don't have the policies. And only about 42% of homes in Florida's coastal counties are covered, according to the Associated Press.

That's partly because only homeowners living in federally defined special flood hazard areas (i.e., flood zones) are typically required to get flood insurance if they want a mortgage. So folks who don't live on the coasts or have already paid off their homes mightopt not to carry it.

Annual premiums for flood insurance can top $1,200 in some parts of the country but are usually about half of that, according to ValuePenguin, a consumer spending information website.

However, even those with the policies could be waiting weeks-if not months-to receive any money as the priority goes to the most damaged homes, saysMichael Barry, spokesman for the Insurance Information Institute, an industry-funded group based in New York. And that's if the damage was clearly caused by flooding, and not winds. Wind damage is typically covered by basic homeowners insurance.

And if the cause of the damage is murky-as was the case with many of the New York and New Jersey homes slammedby Sandy-it could take more time to figure out who's on the hook for the repairs.

The Federal Emergency Management Agency does provide grants up to $33,300 to repair homes, replace lost property, and provide rental assistance for those displaced by storms for up to two months.

But homeowners must jump through hoops to get the money and often receive much less than the maximum, saysRobert Meyer, co-director of the Risk Management, Decision Processes Center at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia.

Lessons learned from Hurricanes Sandy and Katrina

An amusement park wrecked by Hurricane Sandy on Oct. 31, 2012, in Seaside Heights,NJ

Mario Tama/Getty Images

While each storm is different, there are a few lessons to be learned from previous hurricanes.

After Sandy hit the New York City region in 2012, the expectation [was there's] going to be a rapid price cut due to all of the devastation-and that didn't shake out, real estate appraiser Miller says. Sales just stopped.

Prices didn't reach rock bottom because sellers, who knew their homes weren't going to fetch top dollar anytime soon,pulled their homes off the market. Even those whose homes weren't damaged had to contend with trees and power lines down, bargain-seeking buyers, and a reluctance from potential buyers to move into an area that needed years to recover.

Only sellers who needed to sell would sell, Miller says. They typically saw a 5% to 15% price reduction.

It took at least three years for the market to stabilize and buyers to return after the storm,says real estate broker Annette Farina ofBelle Harbor Realty. Her brokerage is based in the Rockaways, a peninsula in Queens, NY, that got walloped by Sandy.

Now, the number of sales and property values are back to what they were before the storm, with sellers getting full asking prices, she says.

Property values took much longer to go back to normal after Katrina in the hardest-hit parts of New Orleans, many of which were also some of the poorest. But that's also due to the financial crisis and ensuing recession that pushed home prices down all over the country.

Canal Street flooded a day after Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans in 2005

Chris Graythen/Getty Images

Case in point: the St. Bernard Parish in New Orleans, overtaken by floodwater in Katrina. Nearly 130 people in the parish died due to the storm, and nearly all of the homes were damaged, many beyond repair. In July 2005, a month before Katrina, the average home price was $127,380, according to the Gulf South Real Estate Information Network. A year later the average price plummeted nearly 229% to hit $38,733.

It wasn't until 2014 that the average price of a home in the parish sold in July topped what it was before the storm.In July 2017, the average home price in the parish was$172,759, according to the most recent data available.

But right after the storm, prices in the New Orleans metro areawent up8.73% from 2005 to 2006, according to NARdata. There were few folks buying in the worst-off areas, but the areas spared the wrath of Katrina suddenly became especiallyattractive to buyers.

There was a good number of investors,says New Orleansbased luxury real estate broker Dorian Bennett of Dorian Bennett Sotheby's International Realty. People are always trying to make money off of situations that are problematic.

No one knows what will happen in the aftermath of Hurricanes Harvey and Irma. But what can be gleaned from past disasters is that the hurricanes aren't likely to keep buyers away for long.

People pay significant premiums to be on the water and likely won't be deterred by a big storm,real estate appraiser Anderson says. [Most]people arrive at the conclusion that that only happens to other people and not me.

The post Hurricanes Harvey and Irma Will Devastate Lives. Will They Forever Damage Property Values Too? appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com.

[gillespialfredoe01806ld]

Will Hurricanes Irma and Harvey Destroy Property Values? The Answer May Surprise You

Win McNamee/Getty Images

It’s looking like a once-in-a-generation hurricane season for the southeastern United States. Harvey has left at least 70 people dead and battered nearly 200,000 homes along the southern border of Texas and Louisiana. Meanwhile, Irma has wrecked several Caribbean islands and is threatening Florida and other portions of the coast with the prospect of more lives and homes lost, and years of painful rebuilding.

Once lives no longer hang in the balance, the attention inevitably will turn to longer-term devastation: What happens to the real estate in those storm-ravaged towns and cities?

It might not be what you think.

While many assume that residents will abandon their homes en masse and property values will plummet after a big natural disaster—as happened in some New Orleans neighborhoods after Hurricane Katrina in 2005—that’s not always the case. In fact, with Hurricanes Jose and Katia brewing offshore behind Irma, a look back at the two most destructive storms in recent U.S. history, Katrina and Sandy, show just how dramatically the levels of destruction and speed of recovery can vary.

“We see a big disconnect between the [neighborhoods] that were hit and those that were not hit” in some storms, even within the same city, says Todd Tomalak, vice president of research at John Burns Real Estate Consulting, a nationwide firm. “The areas nearby not directly hit by the storm continue chugging along.”

And while prices are likely to drop initially, they usually don’t crash entirely. They’re likely to rebound within a few years.

Hurricane Harvey: Disastrous flooding and contaminated water Flooding in Houston

Scott Olson/Getty Images

Houston home sales, of course, have slowed since Harvey deluged the city. But not all homeowners across the metro area are feeling the same pain. Homes in areas that didn’t flood might actually be worth more now than they did before the floods, as folks whose properties were badly damaged begin to look in earnest for safer places to live.

This has happened in previous (albeit smaller) Houston storms. In the city’s Meyerland neighborhood, which has flooded four times since 2015, median prices fell by 16% year over year after the third flood, according to John Burns. However, property values in the rest of the city went up.

“In a flood like this, if you’re high and dry, you’re considered to be a very attractive address,” says Houston-based real estate broker Cheri Fama of John Daugherty Realtors.

Harvey will cost Texans about $40 billion to $50 billion in repairs and rebuilds, according to Enki Holdings, a Savannah, GA–based disaster data analytics firm. An estimated 10% to 15% of those homes are beyond repair and will need to be demolished.

“It’s a mess to clean up. But many structures will probably not be lost,” says Chuck Watson, director of research and development at Enki Holdings. “That’s a very big difference with Katrina. With Katrina, the flooding reached all of the way up to the rafters.”

The problem is that the longer the homes are underwater, the more damage is done, as the water seeps into the walls and compromises the structures. That’s what happened in New Orleans. On the other hand, if the water inundates a home and then runs out all at once, the impact could weaken the already compromised structures and the homes could collapse.

“It’s a Catch-22,” Watson says. “You want it to drain out fast, but not too fast.”

One big advantage Houston has over New Orleans after Katrina is that the Texas city sits above sea level. That means the water will drain out on its own. In New Orleans, the water had to be pumped out.

But the Houston-area water is more contaminated with chemicals, oil, and sewage.

“All of a sudden you have to go a lot further in cleaning the mess up and drawing the water,” says real estate appraiser Orell Anderson of Strategic Property Analytics in Laguna Beach, CA, who worked in New Orleans after Katrina. This is due to the many chemical and oil facilities as well as the 13 Houston-area toxic waste sites that flooded.

“You’ve got bacteria and fungus and sewage in your walls,” Anderson says. “That takes a lot more than just drying up the carpet.”

Despite all of this, local home prices probably won’t fall as much as initially feared, says national real estate appraiser Jonathan Miller, who worked on Sandy-damaged homes after the 2012 storm. That’s because many of these affected homeowners have mortgages they still need to repay, so they can’t afford to sell at a big discount. They’re more likely to fix up their homes and wait a bit until the market improves.

However, the storm might lead to a rash of foreclosures and short sales in Houston from homeowners living paycheck to paycheck who lost jobs or can’t come up with the money for large-scale repair jobs.

And the disaster could have big ramifications in the rest of the state. Texas is currently facing a housing shortage as more companies, and therefore workers in need of housing, relocate to the region for its lower taxes and cost of living. But with construction labor and materials headed to help rebuild Houston, fewer sorely needed homes will go up in the other parts of the state. And that could push prices straight up.

Hurricane Irma: A catastrophe in the making Buildings damaged by Hurricane Irma on the Caribbean island of Saint Martin

LIONEL CHAMOISEAU/AFP/Getty Images

The scope of destruction that Hurricane Irma will inflict on the U.S. is still unknown. As of this writing, the storm has already killed 18 people in the Caribbean and is projected to reach South Florida on Saturday.

“Little wobbles [in the storm’s path] can make a big difference,” says Enki Holdings’ Watson. “There’s a whole bunch of ‘ifs.'”

Nearly 8.5 million Florida residential and commercial properties have a high, very high, or extreme risk of wind damage from Irma, according to real estate data provider Core Logic. The company estimates that about 3.5 million properties are at risk from storm surge damage.

The luxury, waterfront high-rises along the Florida coast are likely to be battered by the hurricane and storm surges from the ocean. Some condos in Miami could lose 30% of their value—or much more—as a result, says Deerfield Beach, FL–based real estate consultant Jack McCabe.

About three-quarters of the units in these fancy Miami Beach towers are owned by foreign investors, the majority of whom don’t live in them full time, according to McCabe. (Florida is the top destination for foreign buyers, who made up about 22% of the state’s overall purchases as of March 2017, according to the National Association of Realtors®.)

“Investors who hadn’t sold yet are going to start dumping these things even if they have to lose money,” McCabe says. “This is going to cause a lot of people to change their minds about having a condo on the beach in South Florida.”

Worsening matters is rebuilding efforts in Florida won’t be cheap. The city is so far south that finding masses of construction workers and transporting materials will likely cost far more than the rebuilding efforts in Texas.

Delays to rebuilding: Not enough homeowners have flood insurance

Compounding the rebuilding challenges: The majority of homeowners likely to be hurt by these disasters do not have flood insurance. It’s estimated that about 80% to 85% of Houston homeowners don’t have the policies. And only about 42% of homes in Florida’s coastal counties are covered, according to the Associated Press.

That’s partly because only homeowners living in federally defined special flood hazard areas (i.e., flood zones) are typically required to get flood insurance if they want a mortgage. So folks who don’t live on the coasts or have already paid off their homes might opt not to carry it.

Annual premiums for flood insurance can top $1,200 in some parts of the country but are usually about half of that, according to ValuePenguin, a consumer spending information website.

However, even those with the policies could be waiting weeks—if not months—to receive any money as the priority goes to the most damaged homes, says Michael Barry, spokesman for the Insurance Information Institute, an industry-funded group based in New York. And that’s if the damage was clearly caused by flooding, and not winds. Wind damage is typically covered by basic homeowners insurance.

And if the cause of the damage is murky—as was the case with many of the New York and New Jersey homes slammed by Sandy—it could take more time to figure out who’s on the hook for the repairs.

The Federal Emergency Management Agency does provide grants up to $33,300 to repair homes, replace lost property, and provide rental assistance for those displaced by storms for up to two months.

But homeowners must jump through hoops to get the money and often receive much less than the maximum, says Robert Meyer, co-director of the Risk Management, Decision Processes Center at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia.

Lessons learned from Hurricanes Sandy and Katrina An amusement park wrecked by Hurricane Sandy on Oct. 31, 2012, in Seaside Heights, NJ

Mario Tama/Getty Images

While each storm is different, there are a few lessons to be learned from previous hurricanes.

After Sandy hit the New York City region in 2012, “the expectation [was there’s] going to be a rapid price cut due to all of the devastation—and that didn’t shake out,” real estate appraiser Miller says. “Sales just stopped.”

Prices didn’t reach rock bottom because sellers, who knew their homes weren’t going to fetch top dollar anytime soon, pulled their homes off the market. Even those whose homes weren’t damaged had to contend with trees and power lines down, bargain-seeking buyers, and a reluctance from potential buyers to move into an area that needed years to recover.

“Only sellers who needed to sell would sell,” Miller says. They typically saw a 5% to 15% price reduction.

It took at least three years for the market to stabilize and buyers to return after the storm, says real estate broker Annette Farina of Belle Harbor Realty. Her brokerage is based in the Rockaways, a peninsula in Queens, NY, that got walloped by Sandy.

Now, the number of sales and property values are back to what they were before the storm, with sellers getting full asking prices, she says.

Property values took much longer to go back to normal after Katrina in the hardest-hit parts of New Orleans, many of which were also some of the poorest. But that’s also due to the financial crisis and ensuing recession that pushed home prices down all over the country.

Canal Street flooded a day after Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans in 2005

Chris Graythen/Getty Images

Case in point: the St. Bernard Parish in New Orleans, overtaken by floodwater in Katrina. Nearly 130 people in the parish died due to the storm, and nearly all of the homes were damaged, many beyond repair. In July 2005, a month before Katrina, the average home price was $127,380, according to the Gulf South Real Estate Information Network. A year later the average price plummeted nearly 229% to hit $38,733.

It wasn’t until 2014 that the average price of a home in the parish sold in July topped what it was before the storm. In July 2017, the average home price in the parish was $172,759, according to the most recent data available.

But right after the storm, prices in the New Orleans metro area went up 8.73% from 2005 to 2006, according to NAR data. There were few folks buying in the worst-off areas, but the areas spared the wrath of Katrina suddenly became especially attractive to buyers.

“There was a good number of investors,” says New Orleans–based luxury real estate broker Dorian Bennett of Dorian Bennett Sotheby’s International Realty. “People are always trying to make money off of situations that are problematic.”

No one knows what will happen in the aftermath of Hurricanes Harvey and Irma. But what can be gleaned from past disasters is that the hurricanes aren’t likely to keep buyers away for long.

“People pay significant premiums to be on the water” and likely won’t be deterred by a big storm, real estate appraiser Anderson says. “[Most] people … arrive at the conclusion that that only happens to other people and not me.”

The post Will Hurricanes Irma and Harvey Destroy Property Values? The Answer May Surprise You appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

from DIYS http://ift.tt/2eTYvF7

[sanzoumon]

*draws / inks traditionally*

Me: “How the frick am I gonna ink Enki’s hair for this Omegaverse AU comic??”

Dark Me: “Stippling.”

Me: “Oh God, no, not aga–”

*does it*

Me: “I have carpel tunnel, what’s wrong with me? *sobs* My wrist…”

Stippling is a very repetitive process. It’s not hard and you can get cool looking stuff thanks to it but given how long Enki’s hair is and how he’s the main focus of the comic…

THAT IS A LOT OF STIPPLING.

I should be working on my original comic, what’s wrong with me?!