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nanamis-bigtie · 7 months ago

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ꕥ in the heat of spring | rush hours feat. ino takuma x reader ꕥ jjk masterlist // ao3 version

content warnings: pwp, reader has vagina and breasts, sex at a love hotel, feminine pet names, praise, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex word count: 3.5k mood prompt: gentle and commanding kink prompt: sex in clothes requested by: @mirkaaaluv a/n: well, well, well, if it hasn't gotten out of hand ^^" i wanted this, and other heat of spring texts, to be 1k words and best and yet, here we go. i guess ino just has his own set of rules lmao

The atmosphere changed as soon as the door opened and revealed your chosen room.

Ino's hand, so far only nudging you gently towards your destination, wanders down, to your ass, and sinks fingers into the soft flesh. You've expected the move—and yet, you jerk up, barely catching a high-pitched yelp at your throat. You're so tense that even a brush of a feather would send you spinning, an unambiguous touch is almost like a torture.

A welcomed one but a torture, nevertheless.

It's your first time at a love hotel as a guest and something about this fact keeps you right on the thin line between excitement and panic. It's hard to find a rational explanation for your state; you've been in many of them before, as a sorcerer, perpetually erasing the curses born of lust, stress, and raveled emotions you loathed to name but learnt by heart and damped down in order to do your job properly. You gave this place a quick scan even before you stepped into the main hall, and it was as clean as a sex-focused establishment could be. You stared intently at the blurry silhouette of the check-in clerk behind the frosted glass as Ino paid for your room and claimed the card key, but there was nothing suspicious about them. You looked around for residuals or disturbing vibes that could betray a presence—past or present—of a curse, just to find nothing.

It was a safe hotel—and yet, you were much more tense than you ever were in those cursed ones.

"You okay?" Ino puts the card key into the holder, turns the light on, finally closes the door behind you two. "You're…kinda pale. Is it—"

"No." You cut in, your voice calm and unbothered, contrary to a shriek you've expected. "Definitely not. I've checked."

"No curses?"

"No curses."

Ino laughs and kisses the back of your neck, "If there was one around, I'd tear it with bare hands, I think. I fought for this fuck break for a week. C'mon, ladies first."

Nudged by a playful yet hearty squeeze on your ass, you finally step fully in. The room is almost soundproof; the soothing music played from the speakers at the corridor is immediately replaced by serene silence. Fighting against weirdly stiff legs, you take a few curious steps inside; the space is on the smaller side but well organized and cozy for a hotel booked for a single night at best. There's a small tv, speakers, two chairs by a coffee table with a small basket (filled with everything you would need from an establishment of this kind), door leading to a private bathroom—and, of course, the main star of the event: a comfy-looking bed, big enough to fit not two but even three adults at once.

In any other place and time, you would happily pounce straight on it, to test if it's as soft as the views promise—but with legs so stiff and your head spinning you need another nudge from your boyfriend to finally approach closer.

"Well—" Ino is right behind you, the side of his face pressed close to yours and his fingers slowly tracing your sides. "—how do you like it?"

"It's…nice. Very nice."

For a starter, you've been aiming for a cautious sit at the edge of the bed, but Ino is faster, bolder, and impatient with your guarded behavior. Hand on your hip, he spins you around and crashes lips against yours. It's a hasty, hungry kiss, full of longing and agony of separation for weeks of work, stress, and all of this cursed bullshit pulling you two out of your routine. You can't blame Ino for finally snapping; you feel it too, the fire you forced into the subconsciousness has perked its head up and is pushing you now into his hungry arms. The familiar tight knot in your abdomen is pulling hard, harder than you've felt since what seems forever, and begging for a fast and intense release.

If he kissed you like this for longer, the weird tension would evaporate from your head—but Ino's in a rush, as always when his needs are pent up to the verge of bursting. He pulls away from your lips just to push you on the bed, yanks the beanie off his head, hesitates over doing the same with the hoodie just for a second but leaves it, already too starved of your closeness. He advances on you with such momentum that he pushes air out of your lungs—and doesn't let you take another breath before kissing you again with the same fervor. The horny beast in you growls, pleased, and your legs immediately open to fit him better—but the tension at the back of your head remains and tries its best to tie your body into its submission.

"Fuck, I need you..." Ino rasps into your ear, sending harsh shivers down your spine. He ruts his hips against you, the rapidly growing bulge against your groin leaving you no doubts you're for a fast and bumpy ride. You mewl and crane your neck for his lips, jerk your hips up in an answer to his bite, whimper, and moan when he lingers to mark you with a hickey.

His hands don't give your nerves the same luxury; using one for leverage to pin you with his body just enough, he sneaks the other under your clothes. It traces your tum lovingly but, remembering you have only three hours yanked out of your tight schedule, dives into your pants and panties shortly after.

"You're tense," Ino points out as he's spilling wet kisses from your jaw towards your neck and lower.

"This is new," you admit but don't follow any further, trying to silence your uneasiness with haste, shallow kisses that swallow his pleased murmurs and mewls. There is no time for niceties, both of you know it—and you're not letting your weird qualms get in your way, not with the fire spilling between your legs just at the brush of his fingers against your slit.

It's uncomfortable to maneuver under your jeans without unzipping them but Ino would endure even digging in a cooling-down concrete if it meant he could finally touch the place he longed for the most. He curses under breath, his words moist against your neck, and finally finds an angle that satisfies him. His thumb traces your slit, spreads your labia and toys with your clit—touch undeniably pleasant but also palpably rushed, especially for a man who could finger you for hours, until you were nothing but a puddle melting in his hands. He's rather seeking for your arousal than working for it; you're more damp than wet but that's enough, it was before, and your thighs quiver by his sides when he teases right at your entrance.

Tension itches at the back of your head; when Ino's eyes seek yours you nod with agreement, maybe even too sharply to pass as genuine. Under other circumstances he would point it out and ask to be doubly sure, to read the sweet consent from the timbre of your voice, but his senses are as hazy as yours—and he's not thinking with the right brain anymore.

He adjusts the position of his hand one more time—and slides two fingers into you, at once.

Instead of the expected surge of pleasure, your body spasms and you hiss sharply as you try to stop your hips from jerking away. The tension hasn't worked in your favor; yes, the moisture would be more than enough if you were at home, lazy and relaxed, but here it fights against his fingers, access suspended, no matter what your soul and mind are craving.

Ino immediately notices.

"Oh baby, did I hurt you?" He withdraws his hand and lifts himself on both arms now, giving you more space beneath him. The wildfire in his eyes has turned warm and docile, and he's looking at you with nothing but concern—and guilt, creeping at the corners of his big, puppy eyes.

"No, don't worry, I'm alright." You scratch at the back of his head, yourself not sure if to calm down him, yourself, or both at once. You don't know how to explain your current situation without sounding too intricately and ridiculously. You're tempted to joke that you would feel more at ease if there was a curse in the next room, but that's not really the strategy you're looking for to salvage the mood.

"A false start?" Ino finds the right words first and exhales with relief when you agree. "Shit... I was so focused on time... My bad. I'm sorry."

When he reaches to your lips again, the kiss is softer, asking for your forgiveness, but as enthusiastic as before. There's still plenty of heat in between the two of you, so it doesn't take long for your moves to turn sloppy and hungry anew. He's more cautious, though, and doesn't budge from his position any further than needed to sip from you. No matter how tempting you and your mewls are, he's not caving in, not until you're nice and putty in his arms.

It seems it's been hours when he finally asks if you want to continue, and you nod with such enthusiasm that your vision goes blurry for a moment, the tension at the back of your head already too lazy to perk its head, peeking curiously at the situation instead.

A soft kiss on your cheek later, Ino climbs off the bed and, finally, strips off his hoodie. The view itself does wonders to your mood; his athletic and lean body is a work of art, begging to be touched, licked, and caressed. You stare at his back intently as you work your pants and panties down—and count its crevices and lines of defined muscles you're going to trace soon. The tension lets out only a warning thrum when your partner starts digging in the basket with love hotel goods, but it's pretty much its last spasm.

With a comically triumphant noise, Ino turns with a bottle of lube and a condom in his hands—and stops in his tracks at the sight of your half-naked body. He takes a harsher breath when you roll your shirt over your waist; from the weight of his stare, you know he's inches from pouncing on top of you again. Nerves and will of steel, forged in heated battles against curses, pay off in a situation like this, he shrugs the temptation off and snuffs out the wildfire running through his veins.

Everything for your sake.

"You spoil me." The mattress dips under his weight as Ino approaches you on his knees, opening the lube with his teeth at the same time. He spits the cap out on the floor and sits by your side on his heels. He takes his time studying your curves, almost motionless if not for his chest heaving with need and his abdominal muscles tensing and twitching. He might be controlling himself, but it doesn't come with ease. Each breath is a fight against his instincts, racing thoughts, and pulsing hardness relentlessly pushing on his jeans.

"Show yourself to me, pretty girl." He finally snaps out of trance and pours lube, almost everything he has, on his fingers. A smile grows on his face as you listen, bending your legs in knees and spreading them wide for him. "Yes, just like this... Fuck, you're so hot..."

Scooting closer, Ino moves in between them, eyes fixed on his goal, warm and ready for him—but still takes his time to adore you properly. He leans close to your thigh, kisses your knee with sweet affection and advances further down, until he has you giggling and mewling with anticipation—so close to your core yet so painfully away.

One flick of gaze up later he finally reaches between your legs again—the strategy and technique all the same but slower and patient. He spreads lube along your slit as he caresses it, working his way past the last knots of your hesitation. He teases and asks for permission until he's sure your gasps and spasms are genuine in every way possible, and even there, he takes his sweet time playing with your clit. In the heated rush you've almost forgotten how sadistic and stubborn he can be if only he wants to spoil you beyond the expectations. Soon he has every single one of your nerves taunt and at the mercy of his fingertips and midst your hazy mind you're thanking the conditions for giving you two so little time, otherwise he would boil you right there for painfully long hours.

Right as you're ready to beg for more, Ino finally makes his move, starting with a single finger this time.

"There we go, smooth and easy..." He's slow and careful, his eyes fixed on your pussy as he fills you up to his knuckle. "Such a good girl, Y/N..."

He adds another one and smirks down at your expression. Not caring about the mess, he tosses the bottle with lube away and lies beside you, chest flush to your shoulder. You feel his warm breath right by your ear, heavy and right on the verge of a needy groan; prolonging the fast has its great price and he's paying without a blink. It's so unbelievably hot to have him so worked up with only two fingers in you, to be so adored and needed that he's taut like a string on the verge of snapping, and his tongue is tying into knots as he's whispering dirty encouragements for you.

"My... You're getting so wet now..." His voice is throaty, tense and almost breaking, in the most sensual way. "Sucking me in... Can you squeeze a little more? Oh yes, that's right, that's a good girl, working so hard to take my fingers. Do you think you can take another one? I'll be gentle. You need to take it, if you want my cock, pretty girl."

His breathing hitches when you, indeed, take the third finger. Rutting against your side, his hard-rock length twitching in his jeans, he moans, loud and pathetic, at your cunt fluttering around his knuckles. His patience is on the verge of crumbling; even the gentlest and most loving boyfriend has his limits and Ino has pushed past them ages ago. Even midst the hot-red haze mantling your mind you can feel him struggling. His moves turn less precise and sloppy, once almost ceasing, once rushing and seeking that one last nerve to graze and snap. Along with willpower he's losing his focus, putting it instead whole into not cumming into his pants.

And yet, despite everything, he puts you in the first place.

"Fuck..." Ino flounders between words, trying to play two roles at once and win his prize in both of them. "It's so hot... Pretty girl, please? Can I fuck you now? Look, you're taking my fingers already... Fuck— You're taking them so well... Will you cum on them? I want you to cum. Please, cum for me, sweetheart."

He whispers a please after a please into your ear, abandoning stretching you for the sake of moving the remains of his focus to your clit. He rubs it fast and sloppily, far from ideal but makes up for it with desperation and not ceasing until your heels start to dig in the mattress and your thighs to spasm and shake.

"Do it now, sweet girl." He trips over his words as if he was as close to the release as you're now, but he finds enough willpower to show dominance one last time before he finally pushes you over the edge. Your whole body spasms, the buildup and anticipation resulting in a strong, mind-numbing and exhausting orgasm. For a moment there's nothing for you but blank, overwhelming pleasure, white silence and dry, itching pain in your lungs, as if you forgot how to breathe when you were crying out his name.

You return to your senses with stickiness all over your skin and his hot breath pressed to your sweaty neck with a silent pleading for more.

Ino licks his lips when your gaze meets and smiles, as cheeky and proud of his work as impatient. His eyes are glossy, feverish, and his cheeks are flushed so much they're beaming with heat, "Are you okay?"

You nod, not quite having power to say something yet.

"Do you want more? Can I take you?"

Another nod—and a bright smile at his sudden, childish pounce at given consent. Ino's hands are shaking when he unbuckles and unzips his jeans; his fluffy happy trail leads your gaze towards his heavy, twitching erection and precum beading at its head, threatening to spill everything at the slightest friction. He doesn't do much better when rolling a condom on, almost dropping it straight out of the wrapping and dragging a dry spasm of laughter out of you.

"See what you're doing to me, you little minx?" He says once finally successful and squirts the last dollop of lube along his shaft. He spreads it with a few strokes—biting on the bottom lip as he's doing so, so close to his finish that even a loose, almost mechanical jerk of a hand is overstimulating—then finally takes his place between your legs.

He spreads your knees further open, pulls your hips closer and helps you rest your calves against his chest. Before he guides your ankles to his shoulders, he brushes a gentle kiss against the elastic band of one of your socks, then the mark it left before it slid down.

"Ready?" He asks, voice shaking, as he's rubbing himself against your puffy, sensitive clit: shallow, pleading thrusts that could as well just get him off right over you.

You nod again and your eyes flutter in pleasure as Ino wastes no time and slides in, with ease and a loud, guttural groan. He stills mid-way in, intense twitching inside of you calling for a fast finish, but he manages to calm himself down enough to press further, leading your knees towards your chest until he meets your limit.

"Holy shit..." Eyes closed, Ino bites on his lips almost to blood. Sweat pearls on his forehead, first droplets trickle down his temples, and his arms, supporting your legs, start shaking. "This is... Fuck, baby girl, I missed it... I missed you so much..."

He twitches harder when you trace his back, lets out a single dry sob when you run fingers through his hair and pull him closer to yourself. It's okay, he has worked hard for it, he can let go and just enjoy himself. You want to say all of this aloud, but only breathing and soft mewls feel right now—and he's too lost in it to hear all of that anyway.

His control snaps, from tranquil and nearly motionless he switches into the highest gear in seconds, and his deep, harsh, desperate thrusts pierce your body deeper into the soft mattress. It's primal and selfish, and the closest to using you Ino could ever get, each day of loneliness and pent-up tension written in the frantic and sloppy rhythm of his hips. It could have been too much for your body, so spent after an intense orgasm, but he doesn't last long, soon whining and moaning, and finally coming, with fingers digging into your thighs and head falling into the crook of your neck.

He's thrusting into you, at the end only rocking gently against you, until he has no cum and power left in him. He lets your legs slide by his sides and sprawls himself on top of you, heavy, sweaty, so hot against your barely pulled-up shirt and his jeans lowered just below his hips.

"Holy shit, I needed that." There's a trace of smile in Ino's voice—and even in his groan when he fails to pull out of you and has to collapse on you again.

With a pleased, agreeing hum you wrap arms around him and giggle when he finds some steam in him to nibble on your neck. The room is filled with your breathing, mixed musk of your bodies, and the barely audible but steady buzz of the electronics. Now, when nestled cozy with his body close to yours and his lips affectionately tasting your skin, the worry and tension that got in between the two of you feel so irrational that you want to laugh. How could you possibly feel so out of place when you had Ino by your side all this time? The rhythm of his heart and smell of his cologne alone have you feeling at home, safe, cozy and loved.

"How much time do we have left?" Ino fishes his phone from the back pocket, furrows his brows, displeased, when he glances over the screen. "Hey. Do you think we can make it with one more round, shower and a lunch in less than an hour?"

"Do you still have power left after that?" You giggle when he wriggles to find a comfortable position, tickling you while doing so. "You're crazy."

"Nah." He sinks teeth into your shoulder, playfully, but hard enough to leave a little mark. "I'm not just crazy. I'm crazy for you."

thank you so much for reading ❤ i'll be really happy, if you reblog it and/or leave some feedback! you can read more of my jjk fics here.

tag list: @lale-txt @honey-deku @ohnococo

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #ino takuma x reader #ino x reader #jjk ino x reader #ino takuma x you #ino x you #jjk ino x you #bas writes #sinful #in the heat of spring #female reader

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sonntam · 1 year ago

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I don't think I've seen a write-up on various fairy-tale and Russian sayings references in the English translation, so I'd like to make one.

"Puddles make poor drinks" and "Gorkhon water will turn you into livestock": what's up with that?

There is a fairytale about a big sister and the little brother. They walk for a long time and the brother is very thirsty. His big sister keeps telling him to keep going and not to drink from the puddles, like a goat. Eventually the little brother drinks from the puddle.

And promptly turns into a goat.

Rest of the fairytale is about the big sister returning the little brother to his original form.

So, this is where the talks about puddles and water turning you into livestock is about.

The Akela joke did not work at all in the translation.

It comes from Mowgli, which is well known due to the USSR cartoon. In the book (and in the cartoon) the elderly wolf leader Akela misses during a hunt... after which he promptly is deposed as a leader of the pack. Mowgli loses his protection and this is a Big Deal.

So whenever a boss in real life makes a silly mistake (say, throwing a paperball into the bin and missing) everyone thinks it's very funny to say "Akela missed!" implying that they will get a new boss now and the current one will get deposed for this mistake.

Here "Akela never misses" means that Khan being at risk of infection and coming into the nutshell does not diminish his importance at all and his dogheads are just as loyal as before, happily delivering loot to him.

There is a saying: "Better a sparrow in hand, than a stork in the sky."

It means that you should treasure what you have, instead of preferring that which you can't get (so easily).

Lara Ravel references that she can't be happy with the little she has. She wants to help others and for this she needs more.

"Maybe I could be useful to you" is a classic thing that various animals say to people in fairytales, once they are caught and plead for their lives.

I think, this is a popular trope in English fairytales as well, but the phrasing here is lifted directly from fairytales in Russian, so pointing it out either way.

"Everyone's shirt is closer to their skin" is a well known Russian saying.

It means that your happiness and comfort is always more important to you than the comfort of other people. Hence: your shirt is closer to your skin, so you care about it more.

"Silence implies assent" is another popular saying (it even rhymes in Russian).

If someone proposes a course of action and no one speaks out against it or for it, then people usually say "silence is a sign of assent" and consider the matter settled. (Or, more often, people then suddenly say that they disagree and you get a more lively and productive conversation.)

I can't find another screenshot, but Dankovsky says something similar about "I wore down seven pairs of shoes getting to this town".

It obviously could be taken as a factual statement, but most likely it's a reference to fairytales.

In a lot of fairytales the protagonist will be given on a long journey seven pairs of iron boots. Once all of them break, the hero has reached his destination.

Same here: it's a fairytale way of saying that you had a long and arduous journey (or in Capella's case, ran around the whole town for years).

"I'll just peek with one eye" is another popular Russian phrase.

"Can I look?"

"No"

"How about if I look with just one eye?"

Obviously, it's nonsense, but it's a typical thing to say if you REALLY want to look at something, so you just say "pleeeease, I will just look only a little".

#i hope people like this post!#if you have any other phrases that made you think they must be easier to understand in russian #please reply to this post #i'd love to talk some more about stuff #to all russian speaking folks feel free to add whatever stood out to you #pathologic #sonntam talks #ts long post

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bunnysdaydreams · 2 years ago

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-This hit me before I could fall asleep-

Pairings: Junkerqueen x Fem!Reader

NSFW

Porn no plot

Warnings; Oral, Strap On, Knot, Nicknames, Dom Junkerqueen/Odessa Stone, insecure reader, a bush, inappropriate joke

I’m in deep trouble

I could feel her glare on my bare back, the hairs on the back of my neck stand to a point

“Dez?”

She huffs out irritably

“It’s your Queen, baby girl”

A whimper leaves my throat and my thighs clench together

“M-My Queen, how…how long should I stare into the mirror”

She clicks her tongue as we make eye contact in the reflective glass

“When I command you, so turn your ass around baby. Your Queen demands it”

I turn around and see my beautiful girlfriend stark naked with her favorite strap on, she calls it ben dover

It’s 7 inches and pretty thick, a coned tip with scales going down the bottom of the shaft, and at the end of it is a knot one that will fit nicely but won’t hurt

It’s a mix of colors, a deep blue; like the blue in your Queens hair, with dark indigo marks around it

“You’re gonna lie on that bed for me, and you’re gonna take what I give you, got it doll”

Heat pools in my gut as I nod my head

My hot body lays on the cool blanket, the anticipation has my finger tips twitching

Junkerqueen walks over to the foot of the bed and gets on her knees

She grabs both of my legs and pulls me towards her face

“God look at this precious pussy. Hey Baby have you ever heard of an Australian kiss?”

My face heats as her breath fans on my bottom lips

Not really hearing what she said I shake my head

“N-no what is it”

Junkerqueen’s lips curl into a wolffish grin

“It’s like a French kiss, but it’s down unda”

A wave of anxiety hits me

My hair

“W-wait”

Her face stops inches before it’s destination

“What’s a matter”

Her voice laced with seriousness yet is still comforting

I curl and uncurl my fists softly

“Y-you don’t have to do oral, if-if your grossed out”

She gives me a puzzled look

“Why would I be grossed out, cause of your bush?”

I feel heat spread from my cheeks down to my neck at her blunt sentence

“Well, I mean…I just wanna make sure your comfortable”

Junkerqueen snorts at me

“Are you doubting me Princess, I’m Australian”

She puts her face right up to my clit

“A bush ain’t gonna scare me”

A moan escapes my throat as she licks shapes

“Oh fuck”

I can feel her hand glide up my thigh and slide against my slit

She pushes two fingers as I put my hand in her hair

“Oh please! My Queen”

She pops her mouth off of me, with my essence all over her mouth

“I gotta stretch you out good baby, I want you to take all of me”

My walls clench down on her fingers as I whine

Junkerqueen puts her unoccupied hand and pulls at my nipple

I pull her head towards my clit, wanting more of her mouth on me

She chuckles at my impatience and sucks hard on me

“Dez! Fuck!”

A low whine follows behind as a third finger enters

A coil starts to ravel in my gut

“I-I’m close”

Junkerqueen pulls her mouth away and leads her fingers out of my hole

“No”

I stare at Junkerqueen who is rubbing her cock

“You’re finally ready for me, and this is gonna be a long night Baby Girl, gonna have you crying for me”

I wouldn’t have any other way

(Edit: sorry if this isn’t that good, I don’t normally post what I write, and to be completely honest this is kinda rushed. That and I’ve never written a sex scene so my bad if it doesn’t make anyone feel tingly or what not 😅)

#junker queen #junkerqueen x reader #odessa stone #overwatch2 #overwatch junker queen #oneshot #queen of junkertown #fem reader #lgbt nsft

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honourablejester · 3 months ago

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Starfinder Ports of Call

Just a quick run through of some of my favourite ports discussed in this setting book, because there’s some awesome ideas in here.

Izadamar (Planet Agilae-4 in the Scoured Stars system). It’s an ancient industrial megacity that was abandoned when the inhabitants fled their god (and planet), and went through several later attempts at reoccupation, once by the original inhabitants’ enemies, and now by the original inhabitants with Pact World aid. Basically it’s a fortified spaceport surrounded by the near-endless ruins of an ancient technological megacity that archaeologists and scientists and descendants of the original inhabitants are trying to explore and repopulate. If you want a post-apocalyptic archaeology vibe?

Outpost Zed (Azlanti space). An old Azlanti mining station that has been repurposed by rebels and anarchists and independent traders into a fiercely independent enclave on the edge of Azlanti space. Trade is the lifeblood, and the only ‘law’, as such, is don’t steal (murder is fine, but theft will get you killed). Independent space stations just make me happy. There’s also a separate society in the sealed-off utility spaces built from the indentured workers the Azlanti left on the station to die when they abandoned it, which is ruled by an ysoki queen and acts like a chivalric court, and I adore them.

Shulgi Station (a city on a planetoid in a system on the edge of the galaxy). Sometime during the Gap, the planetoid of Shulgi gained an extra satellite: a planar rift into the Astral Sea with a ‘gas giant’ on the other side. Shulgi Station is built on thought-forms eddying out from the Sea, meaning that there are actually several versions of ‘Shulgi Station’ called ‘neighbourhoods’ layered atop each other, and which ones you can access depends on how mentally suited to them you are. It’s a nexus for alternate, non-Drift forms of transport, including magical orrery travel enabled by the Church of Ibra. It’s just a cool, funky little town.

Midios (Planet Silselrik on the north galactic edge). It’s a city of small oozes built on the back of an absolutely titanic ooze, on the surface of a planet in a binary star system that is subject to massive gravitational warping of the crust. It’s got diamonds galore down here, but getting through the grav storms to the surface is a feat and a half, so you’ve got to go through the oozes. Also, the giant ooze that supports the moving city feeds on kinetic energy, so ships landing or taking off from it make it very happy. It purrs. I love this.

Ravel Station (orbiting the chaos singularity of LTH-3 in the Cordias Nebula). It’s a research station orbiting a portal to the Maelstrom which accidentally grew into a tourist destination on the side because weird shit happens there. It also has mildly healthful benefits short term as the chaos breaks down poisons and curses, but massively detrimental effects longterm as it also breaks down you, both mentally and physically. The stations crew are rotated off on a biweekly basis onto the tourist cruise ships on their outward legs to stay sane and in one piece.

Ternia (a small aquatic moon in the Vast). The city of Ternia constantly and unpredictably plane shifts between three landing zones: a jungle island in the Abyss, a gorge in Elysium, and a watery moon in the Vast. It’s been doing this since at last the Gap, after which it’s celestial and demonic inhabitants woke up very confused and hostile but vaguely convinced that they needed to be working together towards something. Being attacked the first few times they shifted helped consolidate the alliance. The shifts are constant, usually between a couple of days to a week in any one location, and everybody in it (and who visits) just has to adapt to that.

The Clump (variable). Originally joined together to watch eclipses, the Clump is a massive convoy of starships that link all their airlocks up to each other to form a massive interlocked raft city. They regularly disassemble, move to a new location such as orbit above a planet, and reassemble there, with three particular hub ships and a farming biodome as the core of the formation. The Clump has done some engineering to fortify the linkages between them and sync up life support. I just adore this idea. It’s a free-floating space commune of starships.

Last Call (variable). Death in space can happen anywhere and anywhen. So a cult of Pharasma called the Cemetarians retrofitted a colony ship and turned it into a mobile temple and funerary barge and trading post to offer funeral services across the galaxy (and also fight undead where required). Which is just … the perfect junction of fantastical and weirdly practical, and I adore it. There’s something vaguely Warhammer-y about it, but it doesn’t matter. A massive funeral ship bopping around and offering services is a fantastic image for me.

Morilux (Planet Astevint in the Vast). A spaceport and shipyard built by a doomsday cult inside the splintered remains of some vast brass titan on a planet orbiting a dying star. A cult of Groetus, god of the end times, washed up here because of the doomed star and built a safe space to contemplate entropy, but then astronomers started showing up to study the star, and they also realised that badly damaged and dying starships had a habit of breaking down right in Morilux’ vicinity. So the cult had to cohabitate a bit, and offer repair services on the understanding that they will not repair it all the way, because entropy, so you’ll get maybe one good shot out of this. It’s just a morbid little corner of the galaxy and I’m suddenly very fond of it.

Masentia (operates in the Tabori Cluster). It’s a pre-Gap colony ship of unknown origin that’s been partially reclaimed and operated by a bunch of ysoki salvagers, who use it to operate as a trading ship and ferry between the Tabori Cluster and the galaxy outside because its weird-ass ancient magic engine can survive the nebulae inside the cluster in a way that a lot of tech-only engines can’t. I really love how ysoki are just the general salvagers of the galaxy. I love the little ratty bastards so much.

The last four of these are only glanced over, they’re in the general ‘honourable mentions’ section at the end of the ports chapter, but I love them so much. There’s some really interesting places in this book! Also, yes, I really enjoy ships and space stations over planetary ports. I guess if I’m playing in space, I want to play in space? But also, the isolated nature of that kind of port makes them feel in some ways more unique? Their own little stories-in-a-bottle.

#starfinder #worldbuilding #spaceports #space stations #spaceships #setting #lore #i got a humble bundle of starfinder books and i'm having fun #this is such a fun setting

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candy86876 · 2 months ago

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Travel Photography: How to Capture the Essence of a Destination

ravel photography is more than just snapping pictures of beautiful landscapes and iconic landmarks; it's about capturing the essence of a destination—the culture, the people, the emotions, and the stories.

As a photographer, your goal is to create images that resonate with viewers and evoke a sense of place, allowing them to experience the world through your lens. This article will delve into the art of travel photography, offering insights, tips, and techniques to help you create compelling photographs that tell a story.

Understanding Your Destination

Research and Preparation

Before embarking on your journey, it's crucial to research your destination. Understanding the culture, customs, and history of a place can significantly influence your photography. Familiarize yourself with local traditions, popular spots, and hidden gems. Online resources, travel blogs, and photography forums can provide invaluable insights. Consider the following aspects during your research:

Cultural Significance: Learn about local festivals, rituals, and events. Understanding what makes a place unique will help you capture its spirit.

Geography and Climate: Know the best times to visit certain locations and how weather can affect your photography. For example, golden hour (the time shortly after sunrise or before sunset) can drastically change the mood of your images.

Local Laws and Customs: Be aware of any regulations regarding photography in public spaces or religious sites. Respecting local customs can help you gain trust and access to more intimate moments.

Creating a Shot List

While spontaneity is a significant part of travel photography, having a shot list can help you focus on key elements you want to capture. A shot list might include:

Iconic landmarks

Street scenes

Local cuisine

Portraits of locals

Landscape vistas

Cultural events

By creating a diverse shot list, you ensure that your portfolio showcases various aspects of the destination, providing a well-rounded visual story.

The Technical Aspects of Travel Photography

Choosing the Right Gear

Selecting the right gear is essential for travel photography. Here are some important considerations:

Camera: While DSLR and mirrorless cameras are popular for their versatility and image quality, compact cameras and even smartphones can produce excellent results. Choose a camera that suits your style and level of comfort.

Lenses: A variety of lenses can enhance your photography. A wide-angle lens is perfect for landscapes, while a zoom lens is ideal for capturing distant subjects. A prime lens with a large aperture can help you create stunning portraits.

Tripod: A sturdy tripod can help stabilize your shots, especially in low-light conditions or for long exposures. Consider a lightweight option for easy transport.

Accessories: Don't forget essential accessories like extra batteries, memory cards, a lens cleaning kit, and ND filters for controlling exposure in bright conditions.

Mastering Exposure and Composition

Understanding exposure settings—aperture, shutter speed, and ISO—is crucial for achieving the desired effect in your photographs. Here are some tips to help you master these elements:

Aperture: A wider aperture (lower f-stop number) creates a shallow depth of field, isolating your subject and blurring the background. This is ideal for portraits. Conversely, a smaller aperture (higher f-stop number) increases depth of field, ensuring more of the scene is in focus—great for landscapes.

Shutter Speed: Fast shutter speeds freeze action, while slow shutter speeds can create motion blur, ideal for capturing flowing water or busy streets. Experiment with different speeds to convey movement.

ISO: Use a lower ISO in bright conditions to reduce noise and maintain image quality. In low-light situations, increase the ISO, but be cautious of graininess. Modern cameras handle high ISO levels better, but it’s still wise to test your camera’s limits.

Composition Techniques: Employ the rule of thirds, leading lines, and framing to create balanced and dynamic images. Experiment with different angles and perspectives to add interest to your shots.

Capturing the People and Culture

Engaging with Locals

To truly capture the essence of a destination, connecting with its people is vital. Here are some tips for engaging with locals:

Be Respectful: Approach people with respect and politeness. A friendly smile and a genuine interest in their culture can open doors to authentic moments.

Ask for Permission: Always ask before photographing someone, especially in intimate settings. This shows respect and can often lead to more engaging portraits.

Learn Basic Phrases: Knowing a few words in the local language can create goodwill and facilitate communication. Simple greetings or expressions of gratitude can go a long way.

Candid vs. Posed Shots

Both candid and posed shots have their place in travel photography. Candid shots capture genuine moments, often reflecting the mood and character of a place. On the other hand, posed shots allow for more control over composition and lighting. Aim for a balance between the two to create a diverse portfolio.

Candid Photography: Stay observant and ready to capture fleeting moments. Use a longer lens to maintain distance, allowing subjects to act naturally without feeling posed.

Posed Photography: When photographing people, consider the background and lighting. Position your subject in a way that complements the setting and enhances the story you want to tell.

Emphasizing Local Cuisine and Traditions

Food Photography

Food is an integral part of any culture, and capturing local cuisine can add depth to your travel narrative. Here are some tips for food photography:

Natural Light: Whenever possible, use natural light to showcase the colors and textures of the food. Position your subject near a window or outdoors.

Angles and Framing: Experiment with different angles—overhead shots work well for flat lays, while eye-level shots can create a more intimate feel. Pay attention to the composition and surrounding elements.

Styling: Consider how to present the food. Use simple props like utensils or table settings to enhance the image without overwhelming the subject.

Documenting Traditions

Capturing local traditions and festivals provides a unique insight into a culture. To effectively document these moments:

Be Prepared: Research local events happening during your visit and plan your shooting schedule accordingly. Arrive early to find the best spots for photographing the action. Top 10 wedding photographer in Dehradun

Emphasize Emotion: Look for moments that convey emotion—joy, excitement, or contemplation. These images often resonate more deeply with viewers.

Include Context: Show the setting and surroundings to provide context. This helps viewers understand the significance of the event and its relation to the culture.

Telling a Story Through Your Photos

Creating a Narrative

Every destination has a story to tell, and your photographs can help narrate that tale. Consider the following strategies:

Thematic Series: Create a series of images focused on a particular theme—daily life, architecture, or nature. This allows for a deeper exploration of the subject matter.

Photo Essays: A photo essay combines images and captions to tell a story. Choose a central theme, such as “A Day in the Life,” and capture images that highlight various aspects of that theme.

Sequential Storytelling: Capture images that work together to form a narrative. For instance, document the journey from preparation to consumption at a local market, allowing viewers to experience the process.

Editing and Post-Processing

Post-processing is an essential part of modern photography. Use editing software to enhance your images while maintaining authenticity. Here are some tips for effective editing:

Color Correction: Adjust white balance, contrast, and saturation to ensure your images accurately represent the scene.

Cropping and Composition: Crop your images to enhance composition and eliminate distractions. Make sure the focus remains on the subject.

Consistency: Aim for a consistent editing style across your portfolio. This can help unify your body of work and make your photography recognizable.

Sharing Your Travel Photography

Building an Online Presence

In today’s digital age, sharing your travel photography is easier than ever. Consider these platforms:

Social Media: Utilize platforms like Instagram, Facebook, and Pinterest to showcase your work. Engage with your audience through captions, stories, and behind-the-scenes content.

Photography Websites and Blogs: Create a personal website to display your portfolio and Best Wedding Photographer In india share travel stories. Blogging allows for deeper engagement with your audience, offering insights into your experiences.

Online Communities: Join photography forums or social media groups to connect with fellow photographers, share tips, and receive feedback on your work.

Submitting to Publications

If you aspire to have your work published, research travel magazines, websites, or photography contests that accept submissions. Craft a compelling pitch and include your best work. Be prepared for rejection, as it’s a common part of the process, but persistence can lead to opportunities.

Conclusion

Travel photography is a powerful medium that allows you to share your experiences and the essence of the places you visit. By researching your destination, mastering technical skills, engaging with locals, and crafting compelling narratives, you can create images that resonate with viewers and evoke the spirit of a place. As you continue your photographic journey, remember to embrace spontaneity, respect cultural differences, and, most importantly, enjoy the process of capturing the beauty of our diverse world. Through your lens, you have the power to inspire others to explore, appreciate, and connect with the global community. Happy travels and happy shooting!

#photography #money #blog #travel

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malaysiatravelagency · 4 months ago

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Unveil Jordan’s Timeless Beauty: From Petra to the Dead Sea with Jordan Ravel Agency

Jordan, a land of ancient wonders and breathtaking landscapes, offers a travel experience like no other. From the rose-red city of Petra, one of the New Seven Wonders of the World, to the healing waters of the Dead Sea, Jordan is a destination that captivates the heart and soul of every visitor.

At [Your Travel Agency Name], we invite you to explore the timeless beauty of Jordan through our expertly crafted travel itineraries. Begin your journey in the magical city of Petra, where you’ll wander through narrow siqs and marvel at the intricate carvings of the Treasury, Monastery, and Royal Tombs. This archaeological masterpiece, hidden in the mountains, tells the story of a civilization that once thrived in the heart of the desert.

After soaking in the history of Petra, venture to the Wadi Rum desert, a place of surreal landscapes and infinite horizons. Known as the Valley of the Moon, Wadi Rum offers opportunities for thrilling jeep safaris, camel rides, and stargazing under the clear desert sky. The Bedouin culture here is rich and welcoming, offering a chance to experience their traditional hospitality.

No trip to Jordan would be complete without a visit to the Dead Sea, the lowest point on Earth. The mineral-rich waters and mud of the Dead Sea are renowned for their therapeutic properties, offering a unique wellness experience. Float effortlessly in its salty waters and enjoy the surrounding natural beauty, including views of the distant Jerusalem hills.

In addition to these iconic sites, Jordan offers a wealth of other attractions, including the vibrant capital city of Amman, the ancient Roman ruins of Jerash, and the lush landscapes of the Dana Biosphere Reserve. Our travel packages are designed to ensure you experience the very best of Jordan, with options for cultural tours, adventure activities, and luxury accommodations.

Conclusion: Jordan is a land where history, culture, and nature come together in perfect harmony. Let [Your Travel Agency Name] guide you through this captivating country, creating a journey filled with unforgettable moments and discoveries. Whether you're exploring ancient ruins or relaxing by the Dead Sea, Jordan promises an experience that will stay with you long after you've returned home.

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andamantrips · 4 months ago

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Cab services in the Andaman Islands (high-quality fleet of cars) are a popular choice for tourists looking for reliable transportation around the islands.

Cab services in Andaman are convenient for tourists looking to explore the island at their own pace and comfort. They provide reliable transportation options to popular tourist destinations. The drivers are knowledgeable about the area and can offer recommendations for sightseeing. They can also be easily booked in advance for airport transfers. Whether you’re travelling solo or with a group, their services cater to all types of ravelers. Their services cater to all types of travellers, making your trip stress-free and enjoyable.

With a variety of vehicle options available, including sedans, SUVs, and even luxury cars, you can choose the perfect ride for your needs. Additionally, many cab services in Andaman offer customisable tour packages, allowing you to create a personalised itinerary that suits your interests and schedule. This flexibility ensures that you can make the most of your time on the island, whether you’re interested in exploring historical sites, relaxing on pristine beaches, or trying out adventurous water sports. Furthermore, the competitive pricing of cab services in Andaman makes them a cost-effective transportation option for tourists, especially when compared to renting a car or relying on public transportation. Overall, choosing a cab service in Andaman is a smart decision for any traveller looking to experience the beauty and culture of this tropical paradise.

Not only are cab services convenient and customisable, but they also provide a safe and reliable mode of transportation around the island. With experienced drivers who know the ins and outs of the area, you can sit back and relax, knowing that you’re in good hands. Additionally, cab services offer the convenience of door-to-door pick-up and drop-off, saving you time and hassle during your vacation. Whether you’re travelling solo, with a group, or with your family, a cab service in Andaman can cater to your specific needs and ensure a smooth and enjoyable journey. So why wait? Book your cab service today and start exploring all that Andaman has to offer!

For more information: andaman cab services

#andaman tourism #travel #port blair #tourism #honeymoon #seafood restaurants #water sports #cab service #seafood #andaman island #book cab in andaman islands #andaman cab #cabservice #car rental #Car hire in Andaman Islands #Car rental in Port Blair #Book cab in Andaman Islands #Cab services in Andaman and Nicobar Islands

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ravelstorage121 · 4 months ago

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Dubai’s Premier Self Storage Solutions

Welcome to Ravel Storage, your premier destination for the best self storage in Dubai. We offer secure, accessible, and affordable Self storage solutions tailored to meet your needs. Whether you're decluttering your home, storing business inventory, or need a temporary space during a move, Ravel Storage has you covered. Our state-of-the-art facilities ensure your belongings are safe with 24/7 security and climate-controlled units. Choose Ravel Storage for a hassle-free and reliable storage experience in Dubai.

#self storage #self storage abu dhabi

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monab-india · 1 year ago

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goingplacesfarandnear · 1 year ago

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Travel companies – airlines, cruiselines, hotels and resorts, tour companies – are going big for Black Friday and Cyber Monday, putting bucket list destinations and experiences within reach. We’ve gathered some of the deals to provide a snapshot of what you can expect – it can be a discount on the package price, upgrade, or special features added on. But if you don’t see a travel company you are interested in, search for the website and “Black Friday” or “Cyber Monday” deals

#black friday travel deal #Cyber Monday Travel Deals #Travel Tuesday deals #BlackFriday #CyberMonday #Xanterra Travel Collection #G Adventures #wilderness voyageurs #EF Go Ahead Tours

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saturdayschecklist · 1 year ago

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done (non-active: albums pt. 1)

Techno/hardcore techno:

Mohican Sandbag

firephlex productions

FOX RAVEL

Red Generation

S.D.HARDCORE

電網公司

Sound∞Infinity

BubbleRecords

KURO-HACO Nation

Cis-Trance

Destination Manufacture Records

Jaxalate Records

Associated with O-INU: Axis Bullet/Tune-Deley

Associated with ZOONOODLE: HEKATONCHEIR BEATS/Lolita Comp Records

Associated with DJ Amane: Angelic Quasar/Tribullets/L.I.C.

Korean hardcore circles: HYPERMESS Recordings/Team Progressive

Assorted hardcore/electronic circles with some crossover in members/guests: SULFURIC ACID PROJECT/CHAOS MIXER/Black Onyx/SoundChaos/Frozen System Records/Fluid Stance/nekomimi style/だいどころ/Starlight Garden/蟲とlumpyとミュージックコンクリート/KINZOK ON

Ambient/electronica:

Ruxia

schwarzwald

Dust_Box_49/n-tone

Attrielectrock (minus unknown albums)

miskyworks

SEPIA-SIS

Bitplane

Various/other electronic:

MA.S ATTACK

cYsmix

IZMIZM

Iemitsu.

38BEETS

俺++

MONOMIND

WhiTECHNO

pastyle

Elemental Records

PARANOIA PARADOX

Sharp Eight

Club Music Emotion

FUNTEK LAB.

phase trax records

ion

Camphor

MINAMOTRANCE

9bit Log!Q+

こでまり小瑠璃

as Qool as Qucumber

CODE ZTS LABEL

C.S.C→luv

Art Book Chipika

Sound Online

Project Cherish

Interweave Records

ナインボールズ

Viento Del Norte

Skyline Sound

TRICHROMATIC

Synthikate

Cineraria Studio

デシマルツクモ

autumn-grass

KARASHIC RECORDS

CODE-49

Dr.Lucy Laboratory/Innocence Records

けみかるしとらすけーき！/36MACHINE/CS:36

LiLA'c Records/Sequence Club

Water.Club./T.T.

Syrufit's projects: Studio "Syrup Comfiture"/ALADDIN

kefy's projects: フラクタルライン/A.S.C.Y./Eve Hates Me/Polyphonic Bug Choir

Mostly trance: M3tamix Records/laughing out loud/Levo Lution/CC*=Style

Mostly denpa/picopop: Silly Walker/Conagusuri

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terinour · 1 year ago

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The Broken Wing / L’aile brisée

The Broken Wing

For days she had been searching her father's office for answers. He had left three months ago, three months since anyone had heard from him. She had had a conversation with her father when he told her he was going away for a while. She asked him where he was going and why. He said it was too personal, but that normally he wouldn't be gone for long - that he just had something to deal with himself.

She found her phone on the desk littered with papers, documents and books. Her father also had reproductions of Edward Hopper paintings that were placed between the bookcases. The bookshelves had gaps in them. He had put some of the books in boxes, or in stacks, a little ways away. Those that remained were not arranged as anyone would have done. She understood his logic as she looked through his notebooks, for he often copied passages from his books. He lined them up in the order in which he had read them, and kept only the ones that were most valuable to him close by. The very last one, with the cover turned so she could see it, was the teachings of Ramana Maharshi, which Rebecca did not know. His library told the story of his reading journey, his choices, and most importantly, a direction. He had not taken his favorite books with him. On the other hand, he had apparently had an urge to tidy up, or rather to clear out. Given the state of his desk, he had left before finishing.

Of all his notebooks, one had a red cover. The first time she opened it, she immediately understood that she should never have touched it, never have found it. She had glimpsed a list, a list with women's names. Had her father kept a kind of logbook of his conquests? How else could he be named? And above all, why had he left it in plain sight? Surely he wanted it to be discovered. For days the notebook remained on the ground, where she had left it. Some of the loose papers, which had been slipped inside, were now spread on the floor, like splashes of intimacy. She turned around it like a lioness around a prey, divided between the desire to read it and the disgust that it inspired to her.

She began by searching the rest of the desk, glancing from time to time at the notebook covered with scarlet leather. One day she imagined it disappearing and the next she was looking for it with her eyes.

She tried to reconstruct her father's mental journey, working out various explanations, but she was still missing two things: the reason he had left and, of course, his destination. Soon what started as a hunch became a certainty: the answers were in the red notebook.

Rebecca closed the only window in the office. She placed the vinyl of Ravel's Bolero that had remained on the record player and lowered the arm. The first few bars, slow and haunting, filled the room. She bent down to pick up the red notebook and the pieces of paper. She found two cards from the Tarot de Marseille, two major arcana - Strength and Temperance. She looked at them for a moment and then sat down in her father's chair, took a deep breath and opened them. Immediately she recognized some of the women. But most of the names were completely foreign to her. Small notes followed the identities. Details she preferred to ignore. She also saw small symbols, crosses and other signs that remained a mystery to her. She was surprised to see that there were also men's names. She quickly passed the first part because then there was no more of it. Little by little she saw reflections and doubts emerge. Her father seemed to be fighting against himself and his inclinations. This combat seemed to her unequal. She retained a few sentences that she compiled as follows: Is it possible that I will be free one day? Is suffering and making others suffer inevitable? I know now that I am made up of shadows and lights, but it is less the presence of the shadows than the attraction that I have for them that afflicts me. I am chained of my own free will. This addiction burns my wings. Running away will not help me because I carry this curse inside me. Wherever I go and whatever I do... No matter how hard I try, it seems to me that I am not making any progress, that I am stumbling and getting stuck... A little while ago, while listening to the Indian flute, I saw a path, a way harmonizing the darkness and the light... Last night I dreamed that I was flying over Arunachala. I have the feeling that it is there that I must go. A journey that, perhaps, will allow me to know who I am... A quick search revealed the exact location of Arunachala. It was a hill. At its foot lay Tiruvannamalai, the sacred city and religious center of Tamil Nadu. There are many ashrams at the foot of Mount Arunachala. The most famous being that of Sri Ramana Maharshi. And it was precisely his teachings, transcribed in a French translation, that her father had accompanied for several months. Rebecca read that even today millions of people come to visit the grave of the man who based his teachings on this simple question: "Who am I?" She finally had what she was looking for and now knew where her father had gone. A flight from Nantes would take her to Chennai, India. Once there, she would still have almost 200 km to go to reach the Arunachala hill.

Rebecca was so different from her father. She had opened the window and was looking out at the horizon. As far back as she could remember she had always felt cut off from others and the world. By dint of observation she had come to see what others did not even suspect. For a long time she had been labelled with all sorts of labels: autistic, hyper-sensitive and so many others. But from her point of view, she was just trying to be herself. We like to imagine revolutionaries on barricades or haranguing crowds. But the real subversion is to be yourself by giving up being like everyone else.

Rebecca could see the hidden beauty of the world, feel its poetry and transcribe it. But she felt handicapped in social relationships. So this trip was a real challenge for her.

A forest stretched below the house. A childhood memory surfaced. She remembered finding a bird with one wing touching the ground, probably broken. The bird had looked at her and she had wanted to catch it. But no sooner had she moved than the bird flew away. She was sure it had a broken wing. No one believed her. How could a bird fly with a broken wing? She had come to believe that she had imagined it. But if it was true, it meant that anything was possible and that nothing was insurmountable. This thought had always accompanied her and she had kept it to herself since no one wanted to believe it.

The challenge of this distant and uncertain journey was suddenly less impressive. That's what she told herself as she drove her rental car out of Chennai. She wondered what she would say to her father when she saw him. What would he say? What would his reaction be?

It took her almost four hours to make the trip. Even the traffic jams couldn't dampen her spirits. In fact, being in a country she didn't know had made her take a huge step back. She was in no hurry. She didn't feel involved in everything that was going on around her. It had nothing to do with jet lag. She was pleasantly surprised by this detachment, this lightness that had animated her since her departure from the hotel in the early afternoon.

She arrived at the end of the day. She would begin her research the next day. Had her father flown over Arunachala Hill? Had he been to an ashram? Once she dropped her backpack off at the hotel, she went to see the famous Arunachala Hill. She passed a group returning from a satsang. It was getting dark. Her shoulder collided with a man's. She turned to apologize. She turned to apologize and saw her father

- Rebecca? What are you doing here?

- We were worried, nobody had any news... You could have warned us at least!

She burst into tears. She could not contain all the emotion she had accumulated during all these months. Her father took her in his arms:

- Everything is all right, don't worry

– Did you at least fly over Mount Arunachala?

– I won't forget it. We lost a wing in mid-air.

– But you didn't get hurt?

– We were in a micro plane, still at low altitude. We fell into a tree. We were pretty lucky, though.

– We?

– It was Parvati who was flying, a real tomboy. But she's got all her credentials, I assure you. It was the canvas that broke. It seems that it happens from time to time. If you want we can go for a ride tomorrow...

– No, no, no, no, thanks.

They walked towards the Mount Arunachala.

– At this hour the view is wonderful

– Why did you leave?

– You had all left the house, which was quite empty. That's how it is, that's life. I was left alone with my ghosts. As you know, they haunt the living at night. It's hard to be a man, it's unspeakable. You have no idea what it involves in terms of inner and invisible struggles, defeats, disappointments and frustrations. I felt that I didn't belong anymore and I wanted to disappear, to escape the demands of this body and what the western world imposes on it. So I ran away. Since then I have forgiven myself. I understood that to find oneself, one must start by losing oneself

They passed by a well.

– An African proverb says that the old elephant knows where to find water. Arunachala is a source of light and I came to drink from it

– You have read so many books

– I have understood many things intellectually, but here I feel something strong, in the company of all these people. I didn't learn anything new but I needed this contact. It has become obvious now. Before, I was running away from emptiness and I was exhausting myself trying to fill my life at all costs - to take advantage of it as they say. Now fullness seems empty to me and emptiness brings me fullness.

– Are you going to stay here?

– No, I can go home now. I realized that the light of Arunachala shines in all of us.

Note: I had translated my own text below in french. I apologize for this appoximative translation with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version).

L’aile brisée

Cela faisait des jours qu’elle fouillait le bureau de son père à la recherche d’indices. Il était parti il y a trois mois, trois mois que plus personne n’avait de nouvelles de lui. Elle avait eu une discussion avec son père lorsqu’il lui avait annoncé qu’il devait partir quelque temps. Elle lui avait demandé où il comptait se rendre, et pourquoi. Il lui avait répondu que c’était trop personnel mais que, normalement, il ne devait pas en avoir pour bien longtemps – qu’il avait juste quelque chose à régler avec lui-même.

Elle retrouva son téléphone sur le bureau jonché de papiers, de documents et de livres. Son père avait également des reproductions de toiles d’Edward Hopper qui étaient placées entre les bibliothèques. Les rayonnages de ces dernières présentaient des vides. Il avait mis certains livres en carton, ou en piles un peu à l’écart. Ceux qui restaient n’étaient pas rangés comme l’aurait fait n’importe qui. Elle comprit sa logique en parcourant ses carnets, car il recopiait souvent des passages de ses livres. Il les alignait ensuite dans l’ordre où il les avait lus et ne conservait près de lui que ceux qui avaient le plus de valeur à ses yeux. Le tout dernier, dont la couverture était tournée afin de la voir, c’était les enseignements de Ramana Maharshi, que Rebecca ne connaissait pas. Sa bibliothèque racontait donc son parcours de lecteur, ses choix et surtout, une direction. Il n’avait donc pas emmené avec lui ses livres favoris. Par contre il avait eu semble-t-il un accès de rangement, ou plutôt envie de faire le vide. Vu l’état de son bureau, il était parti avant de terminer.

De tous ses carnets il y en avait qui possédait une couverture rouge. La première fois qu’elle l’ouvrit elle comprit tout de suite qu’elle n’aurait jamais du y toucher, jamais du le trouver. Elle avait entrevu une liste, une liste avec des noms de femmes. Son père avait-il tenu une sorte de carnet de bord de ses conquêtes ? Comment le nommer autrement ? Et surtout pourquoi l’avait-il laissé en évidence ? Il souhaitait sûrement qu’on le découvrît. Pendant des jours le carnet resta au sol, là où elle l’avait laissé tombé. Certains papiers volants, qui étaient glissés à l’intérieur, étaient maintenant répandus au sol, comme des éclaboussures d’intimité. Elle tourna autour comme une lionne autour d’une proie faisandée, partagée entre le désir de le lire et le dégoût qu’il lui inspirait.

Elle commença par fouiller le reste du bureau, jetant de temps en temps un œil au calepin recouvert de cuir rouge écarlate. Un jour elle imaginait qu’il disparaisse et le lendemain elle le cherchait des yeux.

Elle essaya de reconstituer le trajet mental de son père, élaborant différentes hypothèses, mais il lui manquait toujours deux éléments : la raison qui l’avait poussé à partir et, bien entendu, sa destination. Bientôt ce qui n’était au départ qu’une intuition se transforma en certitude : les réponses se trouvaient dans le carnet rouge.

Rebecca ferma l’unique fenêtre du bureau. Elle mit en place le vinyle du Bolero de Ravel qui était resté sur le tourne-disque et abaissa le bras. Les premières mesures, lentes et envoûtantes, emplirent la pièce. Elle se pencha pour ramasser le carnet rouge et les morceaux de papier. Elle trouva deux cartes du Tarot de Marseille, deux arcanes majeures – la Force et la Tempérance. Elle les observa un instant et s’installa dans le fauteuil de son père, prit une profonde inspiration et ouvrit. Aussitôt elle reconnut certaines de ces femmes. Mais la plupart des noms lui était parfaitement étrangers. De petites notes suivaient les identités. Des détails qu’elle préféra ignorer. Elle vit aussi de petits symboles, des croix et autres signes qui restaient un mystère pour elle. Elle fut surprise de voir qu’il y avait aussi des noms d’hommes. Elle passa rapidement la première partie car ensuite il n’y eut plus de tout cela. Peu à peu elle vit émerger des réflexions, des doutes. Son père luttait semble-t-il contre lui-même et ses penchants. Ce combat lui semblait inégal. Elle retint quelques phrases qu’elle compila ainsi : est-il possible que je sois libre un jour ? Souffrir et faire souffrir, est-ce une fatalité ? Je sais maintenant que je suis constitué d’ombres et de lumières mais c’est moins la présence des ombres que l’attirance que j’ai pour elles qui m’afflige. Je suis enchaîné de mon propre gré. Cette dépendance me brûle les ailes. Fuir ne me sera d’aucune utilité car je porte cette malédiction en moi. Où que j’aille et quoi que je fasse… J’ai beau chercher, il me semble que ça n’avance pas, que je piétine et m’enlise… Il y a peu de temps, en écoutant de la flûte indienne, j’ai entrevu un chemin, une voie harmonisant l’ombre et la lumière… La nuit dernière j’ai rêvé que je survolais Arunachala. J’ai le sentiment que c’est là-bas que je dois aller. Un voyage qui, peut-être, me permettra de savoir qui je suis...

De rapides recherches lui révélèrent où se trouvait précisément Arunachala. C’était une colline. A ses pieds s’étendait Tiruvannamalai, ville sacrée et centre religieux du Tamil Nadu. Il y a une multitude d’ashram au pied du Mont Arunachala. Le plus célèbre étant celui de Sri Ramana Maharshi. Et c’était précisément ses enseignements, retranscrits dans une traduction française, qu’avait accompagné son père pendant plusieurs mois. Rebecca lu qu’encore aujourd’hui des millions de personnes viennent se recueillir sur la tombe de l’homme qui avait basé son enseignement sur cette simple question : « qui suis-je ? ». Elle avait enfin ce qu’elle recherchait et savait maintenant où son père s’était rendu. Un vol au départ de Nantes permettait de rejoindre Chennai, en Inde. Une fois arrivée là-bas il lui resterait encore presque 200 km à parcourir pour arriver à la colline Arunachala.

Rebecca était si différente de son père. Elle avait rouvert la fenêtre et contemplait l’horizon. Aussi loin qu’elle s’en souvenait elle s’était toujours sentie coupée des autres et du monde. A force d’observer elle en était venue à voir ce que les autres ne soupçonnaient même pas. On lui avait longtemps collé toutes sortes d’étiquettes : autiste, hyper-sensible et tant d’autres. Mais de son point de vue, elle essayait simplement d’être elle-même. On imagine volontiers les révolutionnaires sur des barricades ou haranguant des foules. Mais la vraie subversion c’est d’être soi-même en renonçant à être comme tout le monde.

Rebecca pouvait voir la beauté cachée du monde, sentir sa poésie et la retranscrire. Mais elle se sentait handicapée dans les relations sociales. Ce voyage était donc un vrai défi pour elle.

Une forêt s’étirait en contrebas de la maison. Un souvenir d’enfance refit surface. Elle se souvint avoir trouvé un oiseau dont une aile touchait le sol, probablement cassée. L’oiseau l’avait regardée et elle avait voulu l’attraper. Mais à peine avait-elle bougée que l’oiseau s’était envolé. Elle était pourtant persuadée qu’il avait une aile cassée. Personne ne l’avait crue. Comment un oiseau pouvait-il voler avec une aile brisée ? Elle avait fini par croire qu’elle avait tout imaginé. Pourtant si cela était vrai, cela signifiait que tout était possible et qu’il n’y avait rien d’insurmontable. Cette pensée l’avait toujours accompagnée et elle l’avait gardée pour elle puisque personne ne voulait y croire.

Le défi posé par ce voyage lointain et incertain était tout d’un coup moins impressionnant. C’est ce qu’elle se dit au volant de sa voiture de location en sortant de Chennai. Elle se demanda ce qu’elle dirait à son père quand elle le verrait. Et lui ? Quelle serait sa réaction ?

Il lui fallut presque quatre heures pour faire le trajet. Même les embouteillages étaient incapables d’entamer sa sérénité. A vrai dire, le fait de se retrouver dans un pays qu’elle ne connaissait pas lui avait fait prendre un énorme recul. Elle n’était pas pressée. Elle ne se sentait pas impliquée dans tout ce qui se passait tout autour d’elle. Cela n’avait rien à voir avec le décalage horaire. Elle était agréablement surprise par ce détachement, cette légèreté qui l’animait depuis son départ de l’hôtel, en début d’après-midi.

Elle arriva en fin de journée. Elle commencerait ses recherches le lendemain. Son père avait-il survolé la colline Arunachala ? S’était-il rendu dans un ashram ? Une fois son sac à dos déposé à l’hôtel elle alla voir le fameux Mont Arunachala. Elle croisa un groupe qui revenait d’un satsang. La nuit tombait. Son épaule heurta celle d’un homme. Elle se tourna pour s’excuser et vit son père :

– Rebecca ? Que fais-tu ici ?

– On s’inquiétait, plus personne n’avait de nouvelles… Tu aurais pu prévenir au moins !

Elle éclata en sanglots. Elle ne pouvait contenir toute l’émotion qu’elle avait accumulée durant tous ces mois. Son père la prit dans ses bras :

– Tout va bien, ne t’inquiète pas

– Tu as survolé le Mont Arunachala au moins ?

– Je ne risque pas de l’oublier. Figure-toi qu’on a perdu une aile en plein vol.

– Mais tu ne t’es pas blessé ?

– Nous étions en ULM, encore à basse altitude. Nous sommes tombés dans un arbre. On a quand même eu un sacré coup de bol.

– On ?

– C’est Parvati qui pilotait, un vrai garçon manqué. Mais elle a tous ses brevets je te rassure. C’est la toile qui a lâché. Il paraît que ça arrive de temps en temps. Si tu veux on pourra faire un tour demain…

– Non, non. Ça ira merci

Il marchèrent vers le Mont Arunachala.

– A cette heure la vue est magnifique

– Pourquoi es-tu parti ?

– Vous aviez tous quitté la maison, qui était bien vide. C’est comme ça, c’est la vie. Je suis resté seul avec mes fantômes. Comme tu le sais, c’est à la nuit tombée qu’ils hantent les vivants. C’est difficile d’être un homme, c’est indicible. Tu n’as pas idée ce que cela comporte de luttes intérieures et invisibles, de défaites, de déceptions et de frustrations. Je sentais que je n’avais plus ma place et j’ai souhaité disparaître, échapper aux exigences de ce corps et de ce que lui impose le monde occidental. Alors j’ai fui. Depuis je me suis pardonné. J’ai compris que pour se retrouver, il faut bien commencer par se perdre

Ils passèrent devant un puits.

– Un proverbe africain dit que le vieil éléphant sait où trouver de l'eau. Arunachala est une source de lumière et je suis venu m’y abreuver

– Tu as lu pourtant tellement de livres

– J’ai compris beaucoup de choses intellectuellement mais ici je ressens quelque chose de fort, en compagnie de tous ces gens. Je n’ai rien appris de plus mais j’avais besoin de ce contact. C’est devenu une évidence maintenant. Avant je fuyais le vide et je m’épuisais à vouloir coûte que coûte remplir ma vie – à en profiter comme on dit. Maintenant le plein me paraît vide et le vide m’apporte la plénitude.

– Tu vas rester ici ?

– Non, je peux rentrer maintenant. J’ai compris que la lumière d’Arunachala rayonne en chacun de nous.

Le 6 août 2021

#short stories #writing #écriture

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