#rocky rodent

[quirky-vg]

From: Rocky Rodent (aka Nitro Punks - Might Heads)

[nintendometro]

On The Run 'Rocky Rodent' Super Nintendo Support us on Patreon

[obscurevideogames]

Rocky Rodent (Irem - SNES - 1993)

[photosofsouthwestmt]

Double Trouble

A couple of chipmunks chasing each other on a brush pile.

Nikon D500, Manual Mode, Tamron 150-600mm VC G2, F/6.3, ISO 500, ET 1/2000, Focal Length 600mm, Vibration Control on

[andalon-historian]

Three fearsome critters!

"Look at all these fearsome critters,

strange things I do see!

Look at how they skrunk and flitter.

How could they be?"

The Rocky Platypus is poorly studied, and there remains much debate as to whether its second head is simply a decoy, or possesses full cognitive function. It can be seen moving about, and opening and closing its beak, but digestion seems unlikely.

The Tongue-aboo needs no introduction. You know it, you love it, and now you can see official eyewitness sketches!

The Grokkle is reputed to be a gentle giant, picking up humans and swaddling them much like infants. Be careful, though; as good as it may feel, they have been known to simply leave with you, and it's quite the hassle to convince it to give you back.

[jnrbtts]

happy new year! wishing everyone a good 2024 🌟

[sweetcardamom]

Delaware and Maryland don't seem to be trying very hard. Idaho - it's literally just ice-cream in the shape of a potato, covered in chocolate, iirc. But pasties, Montana? Give them to me! Pasties are delicious!

Also, jell-o salad (which I have avoided for years) actually has some culinary history of other stuff lots of people won't want to eat: aspic!

[tkingfisher]

Right! Apropos another post, let’s talk about lawn crayfish aka The Lobsters Beneath Our Feet!

This is Craw-Bob. He’s about three and a half inches long.

Long ago, when I had only gardened in the Southeast for a year or two, I saw an interesting hole in a flowerbed. It was rather deep and had a muddy front porch. I gazed into this hole, thinking “Ooh! Is it a rodent? A snake? A toad?”

And then I saw…the Claw.

It was unmistakably a crustacean claw. And it was in a hole in my yard. My terrestrial yard! Why was there a crustacean in my flowerbed?!

I could not have been more astounded if an octopus tentacle had come flopping out. I ran screaming for my husband and the internet, both of whom said “Yeah, that’s a lawn crayfish, they do that.”

And yes. There are about 400 species of crayfish* in North America, and a not inconsiderable number of them are burrowing species. The devil crayfish, which builds little mud towers, ranges from the Rockies to the Atlantic and as far north as Ontario. There are a number of other species as well. Some are limited to stream banks, but many burrow in lawns, flowerbeds, and other places with consistently damp soil, which means that there is a non-zero chance that when you wander around the grass, a tiny lobster is lurking somewhere beneath your feet.

You would think that more people would know this, but at no point in my life had anyone ever mentioned it to me.

Being me, I immediately set out to determine if other people knew about lawn crayfish and I had just somehow missed it. I took an informal poll—by which I mean I accosted random strangers at the farmer’s market, the coffee shop, and my doctor’s office—and discovered a stark divide. Half the people looked at me like I was telling them I’d seen a lawn chupacabra and the other half looked at me like I’d asked if they’d ever heard of squirrels.

It was not divided by social class or education. The farmer with the heirloom breed hogs knew about them, his wife did not. My nurse practitioner first thought I was hallucinating, then went out into the clinic, and began demanding to know if her co-workers had heard of this. My barista was like “Yeah, mudbugs,” but he’s from Florida, so may not count.

My theory is that if you know they’re there, it’s just a fact of life so obvious that you don’t bother to comment on it, and if you don’t—well, why would you ever assume that any given hole in the ground comes from a goddamn MINI LOBSTER? And since they mostly just hang out underground during the day and don’t really hurt anything, it just doesn’t come up very often, until one day you’re at the farmer’s market, just trying to sell some organic tomatoes, and a wild-eyed woman with a Studio Ghibli T-shirt descends on you yelling “Are you aware of lawn crayfish?!”

(Yes, they’re edible, but it’s a lot of work popping them individually out of their burrows.)

During torrential rains, they will often leave their burrows and wander around, which is how I got the photos of Craw-Bob. My hound spotted him in the garden and poked him with her nose, whereupon Craw-Bob poked back. Hound, not sure what was happening but that it was probably bad, began doing her “release the humans!” alarm bark, and I came out to find her toe to toe with a crustacean who was waving its claws and presumably screaming “Come on if you think you’re hard enough!” in Lobster.

Despite their willingness to fight everything, they’re pretty harmless. The most they do is move soil from underground to a little pile above. I’m sure golf courses hate them. Our local county extension office suggests “These nonprolific creatures should be appreciated like an interesting bird or turtle living on the property.” Some, like the Greensboro burrowing crayfish, are so rare they were thought to be extinct until somebody found one in the backyard.

So. Lawn crayfish. They exist! And could be lurking underfoot as we speak!

*or crawfish, depending on where you’re from.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Fritter Away with the Mormon Fritillary

The Mormon fritillary (Speyeria mormonia) is a common species of butterfly found throughout western North America. There are multiple subspecies distributed throughout its range, which extends from northern Canada to the southern United States, following the Rocky Mountain range. They are found in a variety of habitats, including alpine grasslands, meadows, and sparse pine forests.

Larval S. mormonia are almost entirely dependent on violets for food, while adults will also feed on milkweeds, thistles, and daisies, as well as mud puddles and animal waste. Birds, rodents, lizards, frogs, spiders, and mantids are all common predators of both caterpillar and adult Mormon fritillaries.

Mating for the Mormon fritillary occurs in mid to late summer. Males regularly search open areas for available females, and following an encounter females lay their fertilized eggs in leaf litter near patches of violets. After about 10 days the eggs hatch, but rather than feeding the caterpillars enter a period of hibernation that lasts throughout the winter. Come spring, they emerge and feed on their host plant for just over a month. Pupation takes 10-12 days, after which they emerge as fully mature adults. In the wild, individuals can live up to 4 years.

S. mormonia are rather small, but brightly colored butterflies. The wingspan for females ranges from 25-27mm (0.98-1.06 in), while males are slightly smaller at 23-26mm (0.9-1.02 in). The top wings of both sexes are orange with black spotting, while the undersides are lighter yellow with white spots, and the body is covered in brown or tan fur.

Conservation status: The Mormon fritillary has not been evaluated by the IUCN, but populations are generally considered to be stable across the US. Its most common threat is the disappearance of its host flower species.

Want to request some art or uncharismatic facts? Just send me proof of donation of any amount to any of the fundraisers on this list, or a Palestinian organization of your choice!

Photos

John Lane

Mark Leppin

David Inouye

[friendly-alien-fucker]

Cultural Differences

Warnings: non-sexual nudity, fluff

Pairing: yautja x gender neutral! reader

Summary: the beach episode, your yautja and you go for a swim and some shenanigans happen.

___________________________________

For hunters who regularly, and quite literally, bathed in the blood of their enemies, yautia were surprisingly hygienic.

It was one of the first things you noticed when you agreed to explore the galaxy with your lover. They could be rolling around in mud, get beaten up and bruised with blood running down their mandibles, but they always returned home to you clean and smelling completely neutral.

It was pleasant, really. Seeing as you'd already made peace with saying goodbye to your sense of smell when you met them, having only known them as sludge-covered barbarians back then.

You smiled softly as you admired your body in the one-piece bathing suit and swimming trunks you'd picked for today. There were many things you didn't know about their species, in fact you still find yourself surprised by the gentler aspects of their society.

Mothers asking politely if their pups could touch your odd-looking dreads, elders stopping in their tracks to tell you you did a good job when they see the small rodent skulls you cleaned up and hung on your belt, or that group of overconfident youngbloods that promised to teach any yautja that decided your inferior strength was grounds to get touchy a lesson. 

Their species was full of unexpected kindness. And the reason you were getting ready for a swim today was proof of it.

Yautja Prime, their home planet, wasn't quite what humans would call idyllic. The atmosphere was dense and hard to breathe in, the ground rocky with little vegetation. You'd compare it with a desert, except unlike a desert, their planet had a vast amount of water, stored in vulcano-like craters.

Only problem is, the temperature there is just barely below the boiling point of water. Way too hot for any human.

So after complaining to your mate for the upteenth time, they decided to surprise you with a little trip to another, much cooler planet. Your concerns about deadly creatures lurking being quickly shut down when they told you it was a place often sought out by elders to relax after they were done hunting.

So now all you had to do was pack your few things and board the small freighter you and a few other Yautja would be flying to get there.

The thought unnerved you a little, being so close to a bunch of strange Yautja, especially since your mate would be waiting on the planet already and therefore couldn't protect you if something happened. But even through your innate fear, you knew those thoughts were stupid.

These were trusted elders, not only were their hunting days over, but they would never bother trying to take down a lone, unarmed human. Especially since you were basically trapped, with nowhere to run or hide, and therefore way too easy prey, if they could call you prey at all.

So you grabbed your small bag full everything you'd need on your trip and made your way through the long halls until you reached a much smaller ship.

Standing a little further off, you watched as different Yautja conversed with each other and walked on board, feeling your dread rise regardless of wether it was logical or not.

You tried to make out what they were saying, but despite living amongst their people for a while now, their language still only sounded like random clicking to you. You sighed.

"Okay?" a deep voice interrupted your solitude.

You flinched as a big hand grasped at your shoulder, quickly disappearing at your reaction. "Sorry."

It was another Yautja, seemingly a little older than your mate, adorned with battle scars and markings and missing a tusk. Their voice sounded stiff and robotic, like they learned their English from computer recordings, which wasn't too odd. Many youngbloods had started to learn human languages to aid the relationship between your two species.

Which made you silently wonder why this elder was learning it. Regardless, you bowed your head respectfully, and used your basic knowledge in ASL to greet them. Hearing their rapid clicks, you couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Heeelo, hello." They huffed, placing their hand on your chin to make you look up at them. When you faced them again, their mandibles were spread widely - something you've come to understand as a smile of their own.

"Ooman. I know your language, speak with me." They growled, and you nodded sheepishly. Apparently learning the best through doing is a universal experience.

And like that, your little trip seemed just a little less terrifying.

Nin'tui, as you'd gotten to know them, had shared with you stories of their greatest hunts, occasionally switching to sign language when their English wasn't enough. And while, as expected, the other elders on the ship were less enthusiastic about your stay, they didn't bother to complain. There were even a few who'd join in to chat about their own battles and the planet you were about to visit.

All in all, the trip was less unnerving than you'd thought, and a lot shorter too. Your sense of time wasn't the best up in space, but you could swear it wasn't longer than two hours until the ship gradually slowed, before setting down onto rich brown earth.

Once you set your eyes on the surrounding scenery, you couldn't get out of the shuttle fast enough. If not for your traveling companion, you would've probably been scolded for the amount of Yautja you almost tripped by running outside as fast as you did. But there was no helping it- blue skies! Brown earth! And, most importantly, air that you could actually breathe in!

And when your feet finally hit the ground you couldn't help but let out a long and joyous laugh. "Aaaaaah, I can't believe we're actually here!"

"Believe it." a way too familiar voice called from behind you, making you spin around to throw yourself at them in excitement.

Without flinching, they simply caught you, holding you high in their arms as you all but assaulted their face with kisses and thank you's. Or at least that's what the other yautja must've thought, muttering amongst themselves as if they were viewing something scandalous, a few stepping closer to get a better view of the strange ritual.

But your mate simply purred, leaning into your affection as their voice rumbled against you "You should wait to express your gratitude until you've seen the waters!" they laughed, and you shook your head as you gave them a last kiss between the eyes.

"I'm just so happy to be here! Just look!" you jumped out of their arms, gesturing towards the fields of flowers "this planet is beautiful! Almost reminds me of some corners of earth..."

You smiled at the thought, and they chuckled as they put a large hand on your back. "We should walk with the others, the waters are not far."

And so the two of you walked slowly behind the larger group of yautja, them slowing their pace to match yours as you cheerfully took in your surroundings. Beautiful was truly the right word for it.

Tall grass with taller flowers that swayed gently in the wind, going on for kilometers until reaching a distant forest, that you imagined to be just as wonderful.

After about 30 minutes of walking, elongated by your habit of stopping to sniff every alien plant you could reach, you finally made it to the lake. About 500 meters of fresh water that seemed to almost glow in the sunlight.

Standing in awe, you barely registered your mate sliding your backpack down your shoulders and throwing it to the side. It was only when you felt a claw tug at your shirt that you snapped out of it, matching their equally confused expression.

"Don't you want to swim?" They asked, and you chuckled at the misunderstanding.

"Oh, yeah. These are my swimming clothes." you explained, yet their expression didn't seem to lighten.

"No, no. Swimming." they accentuated their words, pointing towards the water as if you simply didn't hear them the first time.

You nooded, dumbfounded, "Yes. Swimming." but as they continued to stare at you like an alien (heh), you shook your head "just- here, come on."

You took their hand, leading them towards the water and to your relief they followed without complaint. At the edge of the lake, you grinned up at them excitedly, before taking a leap, splashing them with the surprisingly mild-temperature water.

Though as you came to the surface and brushed your wet hair out of your face, you were not faced with the annoyed yet amused expression you'd expected on your mate, not that you were registering their expression at all since seeing them stand there in all their naked glory practically fried your brain within seconds.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" you yelled, making them jump slightly and their mandibles flare.

"What?" they asked, way too calm for your taste.

"You're naked!" you whisper-yelled, and they simply nodded, before jumping into the water next to you.

"Yes. Swimming." They repeated your words back to you with a very deadpan expression.

"But- love, no!" you were furious as you tried to explain this to them "We're not alone out here there are oth-" but as you looked to gesture at the others around you, you were met with even more naked yautja, unashamedly bathing in the sun.

Blood rushing to your face, you try to cover it with your hands, glad to be able to stand at this point in the water. You felt a hand lay itself on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" your mate asked quietly, bending down to meet you eye-to-eye. "I didn't know you'd be bothered by this. You were fine with me disrobing, I thought..."

You simply shook your head at them, forcing yourself to be a grown up and pry your hands from your eyes. "No...no." you sighed "I'm fine."

"But a warning would've been nice, I uhm..." you couldn't help but grin at your own embarrassment "I-I guess I just didn't expect to ever see any nude yautja aside from you, you know?"

Thankfully they didn't seem to judge you for it though, as they simply looked at you with that ever present curiosity. "Humans arent nude around each other?"

"We are but....usually just around friends and family, you know." you bite your lip as you dare take another glance at your surroundings "and usually only around our own species."

You can see them nodding from the corner of your eye, "I understand." yet something still seems to bother them.

"You are free to do as you please, however... you always encourage me to partake in your culture. Perhaps you should try and see this as an opportunity to partake in mine."

Their words stung. They were said without pressure or malice, a simple suggestion- but it stung. They had always gone out of their way to make you the most comfortable, this trip was proof of it, and you liked to think you were doing the same for them.

But were you?

"But what if they'll look?" you asked, your face still a shade darker just at the thought. "Then let them look." they replied in earnest "You are very attractive. Let them see what they don't have."

And people did look.

Though, to your surprise, no more than they usually do. Seeing a human walk around and do human things could only get so exciting you guessed, and nudity truly was natural to them.

Over time and with a little coaxing you were even comfortable enough to briefly leave the water, if only to get your towel and wrap it around yourself.

Letting yourself relax in the sun that, even hours later, didn't appear to go any lower, you're interrupted by the low purring of your mate. Smiling, you turn to face them.

"Thank you for bringing me here," you begin, only for them to interrupt "Thank you for coming. And," they truly seem grateful as they incline their head "thank you for 'stepping out of your comfort zone.'"

You chuckle at the human idiom. "My comfort zone is wherever you are." you say earnestly, and they simply purr louder in response.

[tobylix-blog]

Southern winds - Legolas x f!Reader

Content & Warnings: slight angst, memory loss Word count: 3.5k Summary: Legolas joins king Elessar during his travel through recently reclaimed lands of Harondor. He is met with the views of the vast steppe, poverty and some old Harad magic. A/n: This turned out quite differently from how I initially envisioned, so I am pretty much desperate for feedback in comments, asks or dms. P.S. Requests are open

Even though Hísimë [1] is considered to be the fading season, usually accompanied by first significantly colder days throughout the Middle-earth, South from Poros river it seems to be yet another month of autumn when days and nights differ in lighting less than in weather. The Harad road goes south taking smooth turns around rocky hills, never showing one's eyes more than necessary. But a traveler equipped with a fine cloak and a good flask of water feels welcomed by the vast steppe slowly turning to desert.

Riders left Minas Tirith over a fortnight ago. Their cloaks were black, making them similar to some crisp-edged shadows casted by a weird flock of birds. Elessar had made it clear that he wished to remain in the front of the whole group, leading the way rather than following the fame of his name. And all the more so he wished since he had learned that Legolas wanted to join him for this mission.

«These lands are pleased to witness new people,» Legolas mentioned gesturing at some small rodent that had been running along the road with them for a minute.

Aragorn smirked in response. «Your eyes are only getting sharper over the years.»

He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a hardtack. Riding closer to the edge of the road he crumbled it and scattered along the path. He slowed down the horse to watch as the animal reached the breadcrumbs and began feasting upon them.

«These lands need a helping hand. It has always been difficult for people here, but living under the constant threat from both Corsairs of Umbar and Haradrim is beyond hard,» Aragorn sighed, catching up with Legolas.

«The chance will present itself soon. Before long we will reach Forambar. I can hear the voices in the distance,» the elf replied.

«Shall we take a turn here then? Merchants were not so clear about the path.»

«Not yet, we might need to ride some more.»

Aragorn trusted Legolas' hearing more than any advice or guidance and it paid off grandly. The elf led the riders through an almost invisible path twisting between the stony hills. As they reached the highest point they could see Forambar before them. Just a village like many other in Harondor. A bunch of rickety huts and tents scattered across a narrow valley. The only notable thing about Forambar was that it was the closest settlement to Ithilien, and thus Gondor.

As the king and his entourage approached the settlement, many of its inhabitants came out to see. Some were wary of people in fine armor with the White tree on their chests. Others seemed rather curious about the unexpected guests. No matter the expressions of tanned faces, their eyes glimmered with one and the same question 'What do you bring here?'

Aragorn halted the horse halfway through the village and waited. The sparse crowd filled with whispers, swayed like a wave, and a man emerged from within it. He wasn't particularly tall or strong, but his clothes appeared finer than those of others and suggested his higher status.

«What brings us the honor to welcome guests from Gondor?» the man inquired cautiously.

«It is my will to pay visit to all settlements South from Poros and bring whatever help people of Harondor might need for I am the King, Elessar Telcontar, and these lands are once more part of my kingdom according to peace treaty with Haradrim,» Aragorn spoke, his voice clear and loud above the quiet valley. In the golden rays of the sunset behind his back he seemed a regal monument of himself.

For a moment everyone remained silent and motionless. Then the man in front, chief of Forambar, who couldn't tear his eyes away from Aragorn, got down on one knee bowing his head lowly to the king. The crowd behind him swayed once more and followed the example. Elders bowed with respect, young ones knelt.

Legolas observed the scene of recognition with mild curiosity and understanding. He knew well enough what kind of a king his friend was, that Aragorn deserved every bit of this esteem. Among all gathered people the elf noticed only one figure that remained unbent. A young woman standing in a narrow passage between tents – you. Your dark skin glowed like antique bronze in sunlight. Your hair cut unusually short was mostly covered by a scarf, its long ends hanging over your shoulder. But what caught his eyes more than a faint hint of a bow that you portrayed were your ears with undoubtedly pointy ends.

______________________________________________________________

Though Forambar had little to no resources to provide for the king and his entourage, two tents were momentarily set up on height above the village. There was something positively romantic in the way one could leave the comforting warmth of a tent and be so completely enveloped in cool night air and bright glow of stars above.

Before the dusk gave in to the darkness completely, Damon, chief of Forambar, visited Aragorn. He asked you to come along as well. When you entered the tent together he bowed deeply to the king once more, however you only bowed your head respectfully. Damon spoke quietly and verbosely, doubts and uncertainty clear in his tone as he asked for what service he could accomplish for the Great King.

You stopped him at once, as you put your hand on the chief's shoulder. «My king, let this man go back to his family. His heart is pained at the thought of not fulfilling your wish, but he can hardly do any more than he has already done,» you suggested.

Aragorn nodded in agreement. «Which is enough. Go home, friend, and let your heart be at peace.»

The chief bowed respectfully and departed hastily, leaving you behind in a company of the king and-

«Legolas of the Woodland realm,» you nodded to the elf who stood further from the entrance, almost completely covered by the shadows. «Our lands cannot remember the times when elves set their feet upon it. Truly has the new age come.»

Legolas spared you a long observant glance. He took in your gestures, unhurried and firm, your clothes, hanging loosely around your body, your piercing gaze and yet again those pointy ears. «If it were not for your words, I would have sworn you were one of Edhil. Who are you?»

«My name here is Morentir. I am the watchman in the north,» you replied and noticed a silent question arising. «North of Harad, that is. My ancestors came from beyond Harnen and brought their knowledge long ago. We have stayed in these lands ever since, grateful to them and to people, who accepted us.»

«There are more watchmen? What exactly is it that you keep your eyes on?» Aragorn inquired, stepping to the side.

«Harondor. From the shores to the mountains, we see everything. Every merchant taking the road, every nomad crossing the steppe, every shadow forming under the sun. We search for dangers and fortunes. We guide people away from ones and towards the others. A dozen and a half watchmen by the number of settlements across the land. That is who we are,» you said. «And that is why I have to be here tonight. If you wish to visit all of the villages in Harondor, you will need our guidance, my king.»

As you spoke to Aragorn, elaborating on the ways of the steppe, Legolas observed you silently. He watched how you unwrapped your scarf and laid it out on the floor showcasing the map embroidered on delicate fabric. He listened intently to your voice, savoring a thick layer of accent and arrhythmic pace, as you explained their further travel. He found something calming in the way candlelight casted shadows across your hands as they were gliding over the surface of the map.

When you got up and left the tent a good hour later, it was as if he woke up from a dream. Warmth and serenity of comfortable silence suddenly felt suffocating to Legolas. He followed the gust of fresh wind from the entrance and found himself under a vast carpet of stars. Piercing cold wind greeted him outside and a piercing gaze of your eyes. «Was there something amiss?»

Legolas considered your words for a long second before letting a faint smile touch his lips. Your question landed a precise strike to the feeling that bothered him. «Like a moon from the sky on a cloudy night.»

«I didn't know whom I had made this for, until tonight. But it seems you have come in time to relieve me of the doubts,» you murmured, passing him a folded garb from your bosom. Under close inspection it turned out to be a thin chemise, soft to the touch and intricately embroidered. Legolas' fingers followed the pattern on the front making out unfamiliar ornaments. «Wear it when your heart feels right.»

______________________________________________________________

Southern spring turned out to be even worse than the winter. By the end of Súlìmë [2] nights remained almost as cold, but during the day sun shone relentlessly, heating up Gondorians in their dark cloaks and armor like stones on the road. Many riders chose to take off their helmets and some piled their armor in the wagons following them. Since the time when they entered Harondor during late autumn the lands proved to be relatively clear of dangers that needed to be met with steel. Following the routes shown by watchmen, they wouldn't have met any of those, had Aragorn not chosen to teach a lesson to some runaway Haradrim bandits.

At the thought of that encounter Legolas involuntarily raised a hand to his chest. One of the throwing knives had come right below his hand as he was drawing the bow. That would make one unsightly scar if it wasn't for the shirt. He thought it was but a chance at first. Though the longer he spent observing the embroidery the more convinced he became that there was more to this thing than just beautiful craft.

«It is a woven shield. Harad magic,» Luintir, watchman from Urgon, confirmed when Legolas showed her the garb. «Well-worn one would cost one a good flock of sheep South from Harnen.»

The elf didn't care for sheep or gold, but knowing just how valuable the gift was took him by surprise. You who hadn't known him before gave him a thing of such power and worth. The knowledge only made his thoughts circle back to you more often.

In the beginning it was only natural to occasionally reflect on a sudden encounter and a gift. But since the middle of winter Legolas could barely name a few nights when his mind wouldn't be filled with thoughts of a woman that he only met once. It only got worse since they left Urgon and turned back North on Yestarë [3]. Weather changes didn't do enough to get his mind off you as the elf didn't suffer nearly as much as other riders.

And now as they finally were approaching Forambar Legolas felt a stinging wish to rush forward, get you away from the prying eyes and ask dozens of questions swarming in his head.

______________________________________________________________

Damon greeted the king and his men ceremoniously. Clearly the first wagons with goods from central Gondor had already reached the village in winter and the people were grateful for the help.

The stay wasn't supposed to be long this time either, so Legolas took the chance to roam along the path to the North of the village, where your hut stood just a little distanced from the rest. Small and sturdy it seemed in the dry last year's grass. He heard you before you showed from behind the building. Your steps rustled against the ground like water whispers against river banks.

«What brings you here, noble guest?» you asked him. The question rang clear through the cool air, but remained unanswered. Legolas appeared completely taken aback, his eyes wide, eyebrows drawn together, lips parted. There were changes in you, such that should not occur nor within a year, neither after a longer time. He clenched the shirt he held on his hands. You noticed it and reached out. «Was it your wish to ask about it?»

Legolas looked down at your hand, then back up at your face. «Your eyes are black.»

«As they should be. It would be a waste to be called Morentir and bear eyes of a different shade,» you replied amused by his direct statement. He only shook his head. That couldn't be true. In the name of Valar it couldn't be, he remembered clearly that your eyes were not black when you looked at him standing just outside of the king's tent.

«You Sindar are truly a mystery,» you noted, turning to the side. You could sense that this elf meant no harm, but his actions were rather strange. The turmoil in his heart was obvious to your eyes yet the reasons remained unclear. When you felt his fingers tracing the edge of your ear, you recoiled unconsciously. «By what custom would you do that?!»

Legolas' expression filled with painful confusion. «My eyes betray me... I could swear... I mistook you for one of our kind when I've seen your ears. Shaped as beech leaves were they.»

«People don't tend to have such ears,» you objected, slightly annoyed. For some reason the graceful creature before your eyes irritated you like an insect.

«I remember it clearly as day. This chemise reminded me with every touch, I wouldn't forget even if I wished to... So different you were that night. Same voice, same woman, yet so much changed.» The more he looked at you the more distinctions he could see, some subtle, others obvious. «How could that be?»

You sighed, feeling his words weighing heavily on your mind. «Go back, guest.»

Your voice struck him as a slap across the face. «Does your gift have no meaning? I learned of its value, I thought of it daily, but it holds no importance to you?»

«I do not recognize you and neither do I care,» you retorted and repeated firmly. «Go back.»

Legolas stood frozen as if a blade and not your words pierced through him. You watched something crumble inside him so loudly that it was visible in his striking blue eyes. It was so clear that you had to turn away for it to not consume you as well. For the first time in many years you cursed your role as a watchman when sensations of elf's struggle washed over you. Being able to see and hear all that happened many miles away from Forambar had never been as painful. «Go back,» you repeated once more before hiding away from him behind the door.

______________________________________________________________

By the middle of Víressë [4] Legolas crossed the Old Forest Road and entered the gentle shade of the Great Greenwood. Before long he took notice of a squirrel following in the same direction as him and fished out a few nuts for it from a bag. As his fingers grazed the inner side of the bag he noticed a different sort of texture. Upon further inspection that turned out to be sheets of paper folded multiple times.

Legolas pulled out the whole pile and looked at the outermost page first. It was filled with messy writing, black ink letters scattered across the surface. It took him a few whole moments before he managed to make sense of the words.

«Skies be good your mind will find peace by the time this reaches you for I must confess,» then followed a blot size of a fat bug and more erratic writing, «the truth. Let it be just the truth.»

«I am Morentir, one of the watchmen in the north. That means more than standing on guard somewhere high as people do in other lands. We watch over the entire Harondor with three dozen eyes. That is more than a living man can do. But when our ancestors came from the South, they brought knowledge with them. Spells that allow us to see and hear more than the best hunters can. Magic that makes us see whatever the others witness as clearly as if their eyes belong to us.»

There was a wide gap before the next paragraph just like a heavy sigh.

«This power has... a price. A cost that must be paid. Our hair is short, but even shorter is our memory. We live to guard and guide our people, but we don't live the lives of people. We forget easily and willingly, each day starting anew. We remember the lands and names, spells and runes, but none of us can say for sure what they look like. Sometimes we wake up with a different face, but we're unable to notice the difference.

That must have been what scared you then. Forgive me for that.

And truly did I not recognize you, Legolas. For that I do not seek your forgiveness. I only ask you to read the other page if your soul stirs from the memory or burn it if your heart is at peace.»

Legolas switched his attention to the other sheet without giving it a second thought. His eyes got used to the handwriting already and he easily picked out the words this time. The page seemed to be torn from a journal.

«The day was calm. The north wind brought good omens and guests. The king, Elessar of house Telcontar, who claimed our lands back from Harad and Umbar. He came with only a few of his men. And brought along a friend from afar. An elf. Long has it been, since we heard of elves, even longer since any of us had seen one of them. Legolas is his name. Son of the high king from the Woodland realm. He found the path to Forambar that our people use, that is worthy of respect. And the land liked him more than even some of our children. Truly do elves have their way with nature.

He stands tall and proud, he walks weightlessly and swiftly, he speaks eloquently but rarely. Everything in him is hardly a creation of the ground, but rather that of night air or flourishing forests. I take it that others notice but a half of what my eyes catch though. Therefore I should say more...

Long is his hair and light like the rising sun. The wind plays with it like with the most expensive of silks. His skin is fair, so unlike our people here. But he doesn't seem pale, rather the opposite – life and will is strong in him, so much is evident. His eyes are so blue that the sky seemed embarrassed for the rest of the evening, blushing with sunset... And I blushed with it when his eyes left mine.

The woven shield is asking to be gifted. I can feel the stirring of its power beneath the fabrics. Out of all possible outcomes that one is hardly predictable. But the omens are good. The elf deserves the Gift, and my soul would be free to roam the land further this way.»

There was another gap, wide like a whole paragraph. Next line began with a blot, then a few words were crossed out, another blot and finally something decipherable.

«Good be the skies. What did they send him here for? The Gift is his. I gave it away, the one I made. So easily like it was but the first of many promises.» Something crossed out again. «The omens were good. So said all of us. But it pains me to think that the path may not take him back to Forambar. He took the Gift, nothing more. He doesn't know of our customs, he doesn't seek for our ways, he doesn't belong despite the way grass catches on his boots.» More crossed out. «I will read the spell before the new moon comes. I can hardly find peace of mind if his shadow overtakes mine so easily. He may take the Gift, but not me. My watch is not over yet.»

The words by the edge were crossed out poorly, and Legolas could read them through the thin strokes of ink. «Why would his eyes be so blue? Good be the winds I forget them soon.»

______________________________________________________________ 1 – quenyan equivalent to November. Here and further I refer to months from the King's Reckoning 2 – March 3 – first day of the year, approximately spring equinox 4 – April

[quirky-vg]

From: Rocky Rodent (aka Nitro Punks - Might Heads)

[nintendometro]

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[eves4pple]

YUI KOMORI HC’S

A/N: heyyy! I got a lot of really good feedback from my post about the mukami brothers! And everyone seemed really interested! So here’s so more! Regarding the mention of my AU I will be doing a small guide to what I’ve been working on so you all can enjoy it to the fullest extent!

Mentions of SH, ED, and religious imagery

- Grew up strictly Catholic. So even now she does the cross across her chest when she sees a statue or a painting of Christ, God, and The Virgin Mary. As well as before she prays.

- Favorite historical figure is Joan of Arc cause she related to her so heavily as she also thought she could hear the word of god as a child. Turns out it was something else

- Has a very dull appearance. Dirty blonde hair and brown eyes rather than the vibrant pink eyes and blonde hair

- Had doubted her faith a lot, even more since living with the Sakamaki’s

- has pretty prevalent SH habits, these doubled when she started living with the Sakamaki’s as well

- Her and Cordelia share a brain and body, rather than an awakening in my AU Yui has had contact with Cordelia since puberty

- Cordelia can switch places with Yui easily due to their connection

- Her relationship with her “father” is rocky. Since a young girl she denied a lot of what the church taught her and her father would punish her. The nuns really cared for her more

- was exorcised due to her telling an older nun that she was hearing voices, this has happened twice within this universe

- favorite animals are little rodents. Mice are really her favorite out of them all, she thinks they’re sweet and thinks their big ears are funny

- definitely a Cinderella lover, she relates a lot

- lowkey a picky eater? But mostly because she’s constantly stressed out and eating makes her feel sick.

- hates hates HATES dolls. Her and Kanato don’t really get along well due to this fear of her’s

- she actually tries really hard to be nice to every person she meets, but after some time at the manor she really stopped caring as much and her personality also dulled

- Horrible Social anxiety, she literally only has herself or Cordelia for a good majority of time

- smoked weed once with a guy she met when she was living with her father still and actually really liked it. Has partook time to time in the current events of the au, but it’s limited cause Reiji threatened to cut her soiled lungs out of her body if she continued. When in the Mukami manor she partakes more often but its anxiety inducing now.

- In my au Yui is a mixed blood, solely due to Cordelia sharing her body for years. Yui is technically a vampire, when she hit puberty and got her period that’s when Cordelia started talking and engaging with her more often. So when Yui arrives to the manor the awakening was already in process

- Wanted to be a writer as a kid and would sneak out to read books from the nearby library

- has a fear of dogs as well

- ED habits, this started when she first arrived at the manor due to the way the brothers would prod at her skin plus influence from Cordelia

- hates Coffee

- Demi romantic and Demi sexual- meaning she needs a genuine connection with a person before dating/having sex

- claims she doesn’t have favorites but is seen more with Subaru and Reiji more than the other brothers. Does indeed have favorites at the Mukami manor, and it’s Azusa and Yuma

- hates apples a lot

- has had horrible insomnia since a kid

[photosofsouthwestmt]

Breakfast

I made it up to Coyote Creek the other day. A little early for the Autumn colors but still a good day for photography. First a early morning chipmunk eating his breakfast.

Nikon D500, Manual Mode, Tamron 150-600mm VC G2, F/13, ISO 1000, ET 1/640, Focal Length 600mm, Handheld, Vibration Control on

[apas-95]

The sun's cold glare reflected from overwhite snow on the border plateau, and the girl from the peasant commune panted.

Her head was thick and dazed. She gulped down lungfuls of the thin mountain air, which seemed to rest on the plateau like a fog, barely rising towards the sky before dissipating.

She and the other girls were crouched down on one knee, huddled together in a line. The leader, in her brilliant-yellow coat, shuffled back and forth in front of them. Behind her rose tall, black mountaintops on either side, and a gray, rocky basin slung between them. Shimmering, barely-visible, distant figures stood far opposite them in the valley.

The girl's hand rested against the leatherbound handle of a knife strapped to her chest. Before the eight-day patrol set out, they were informed by the political commisar (an educated woman from the city) about the precarious international situation, about the national policy of 'two impositions', and then told to leave their rifles at the outpost. Each of them carried only their utility blade. It had a notch at one side for stripping electrical-wires, and a serration at the base for cutting ropes. The oil they were meant to wipe them down with had frozen into a thin film of dust on the bare metal.

They had sat in the basin for hours. The border outpost, they had only occupied for a week. The imperial soldiers had abandoned it months ago when their General was encircled and routed. Them, the girls of the Revolutionary Frontier Alpinist Rifle Section №502 had been sent by this basin after aerial photography had noticed movement further down the pass. Now, they noticed movement again.

The figures in the valley had further defined themselves, grown larger. Through haze, the puffy brown coats of the Matist infanterie dragoons took shape. Distant, warped, the rattle of swords in scabbards came as they walked.

"At arms!" the leader yelled. With frozen hands, the girls all drew their blades. None stood.

Slowly, practiced, the dragoons withdrew their sabres, letting the steel ring acoustic as they raised them.

With her other hand, the leader took her cold metal whistle and sat it between her lips. The girls huffed battle-breaths on the beat of 2-5-6-8, 2-5-6-8, --

Far away, on distant mountaintops, a shrill call could be heard from the yellow-coated creature down in the valley. A small rodent that ventured from its burrow quickly returned to ground. When, calmed, it poked its nose out again, a dozen people lay gurgling, slashed to ribbons, and the now-quiet creature was tinged a deep, dark red, with only splashes of the brilliant yellow shining through.