#rode architects

[anneapocalypse]

1, 2, 4, 8, 19 for the dav meme!

Veilguard Hype Ask Meme!

What was the first Dragon Age game you played?

Origins! I've been here since the beginning. Alongside Fallout 3, it was one of the first RPG video games that absolutely ate my brain. I have fond memories of sitting on my futon playing DAO for like 16 hours straight, forgetting to eat and destroying my back.

2. Which Dragon Age game is your favorite so far?

This is always such a hard question for me to answer, because the three games are all so different, and I have deeply fond memories of all three of them, and I can also look at all three pretty frankly and see their flaws even as I still enjoy them. I think if I have to name a favorite though, it's still Dragon Age 2. Something about its structure and scale, the creative and unusual use of place and time, and its themes, really appeals to me. I've also come to really like the personality lock-in feature even though it does place some limitations on role-playing, and I love the friendship-rivalry system. I love it so much. I think it makes for much more interesting character relationships than simply "Does this character approve or disapprove of my actions?" Are there things about the other games that I prefer, of course. I want to be able to play as an elf or a dwarf or a qunari, for one. But even after all this time, DA2 still hits me a certain way. I love the other two games as well. There's just something about Kirkwall.

4. What does your worldstate look like going into DAV?

So I have like five or six world states and I don't consider any one of them more canon than the others, but I will be going into Veilguard for the first time with Rogues Gallery, which is exactly what it sounds like (and which means the one thing I know about my Rook is they'll be a rogue), featuring Jolene Cousland, Mallory Hawke, and Calla Cadash.

Basic rundown:

The Circle was saved, Connor and Isolde both lived, Zathrian broke the curse, and Harrowmont is King of Orzammar.

Jo romanced Alistair and convinced him to do the Dark Ritual.

They stayed Grey Wardens and rode off into the sunset together.

Anora is Queen of Ferelden.

Nathaniel is alive.

The Architect was spared.

Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine were protected.

Jo went off alone to find a cure for the Calling, and Alistair was left in the Fade.

Carver is dead, Bethany is alive and a Grey Warden.

Mal romanced Isabela. (In my headcanon, they later become a polycule with Merrill but of course that's not in the game.)

She rivaled everyone except the rogues and Merrill.

Bartrand is dead. Varric kept a piece of the idol.

Aveline did not marry Donnic.

Feynriel went to the Dalish, and then to Tevinter.

Clan Sabrae was killed.

Merrill did not destroy the Eluvian.

Mal refused to take any kind of a stand until the very end of Act III where she heaved a big sigh and sided with the mages.

She disapproved of Anders' actions but spared his life.

Mal is still alive and kicking.

Calla romanced Josephine.

She conscripted the rebel mages and the Grey Wardens.

Alistair was left in the Fade.

I left off with her right before Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, so I am not sure of her decisions from her onward! But I do plan to finish this playthrough before Veilguard comes out. :)

8. What faction are you most excited to learn more about?

I'm pretty hype about all of them, but I'd say the Lords of Fortune and the Veil Jumpers the most since we know the least about them!

19. Are you planning to replay any of the previous games, watch Dragon Age: Absolution, or read any of the books/comics/short stories, or are there other games you want to play in the meantime?

I do plan to finish my current playthrough of Inquisition (Calla's playthrough) which is still incomplete. Beyond that, maybe I'll re-read some of my favorite Tevinter Nights stories. I spent about three years (2020-2023) playing the whole series on repeat like 5-6 times and reading and watching all the side content I could get my hands on, so... I'm probably good on that front. ;)

Final Fantasy XIV is getting a new expansion, Dawntrail, in just a couple weeks, so that should occupy a good chunk of my summer, and I expect I'll be ready to play some more Dragon Age in the fall in preparation for Veilguard! (Would love to get an actual release date, though.)

[wxntrfrostt]

(DA:VG Spoilers) What if Isseya was like The Architect?

I can't stop thinking about Isseya being an intelligent, morally complex darkspawn, instead of Depraved Antagonist #22 with no flexibility and a rigid, flat storyline.

Davrin's personal story has disappointed me I think the most, for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which I being that I started with high hopes and great love for the Grey Wardens, but I'm not here to bash on the game. I'm doing this Dragon Age II style and using canon a suggestion.

Imagine if we meet Isseya, and instead of trying to blight the griffons, she simply stole them away in an attempt to protect them due to her inherent distrust in the Grey Warden order. She, like the Architect, retains her mind and has had centuries to study the blight. Imagine if, instead, we could chose to team up with her.

One one hand, you have an ancient hero of the Fourth Blight, and younger sister to Garahel. She was there when griffons rode into battle, and she was the one that blighted them. In the 400-some years since, she's been darkspawn. Think about how all of your companions would react!

Veilguard lost the heart of dragon age, all about half your companions hating you and also each other. I wanna put the fucked up morally grey villains you can ally with back into the mix.

I haven't read Last Fight yet but I have the book around somewhere, and knowing that Isseya's in it make me more mad that they just made her flat insane + evil and did nothing else ;-; Criminal

[rotterdamvanalles]

Het Hulstkamp-gebouw aan de maaskade (Noordereiland)

Het Hulstkamp-gebouw is een rijksmonument aan de Maaskade in Rotterdam. Het is een gezichtsbepalend pand aan de noordzijde van het Noordereiland. De Rotterdamse architect Jacobus Pieter Stok ontwierp het in 1888 in neorenaissancestijl. Kenmerkend is het gebruik van rode baksteen, versierd met witte banden en ornamenten.

Opdrachtgever tot de bouw was de firma Laming & Sons, die het gebouw in 1892 betrok. Het diende als margarine- en kaasfabriek met kantoor, woonhuis en opslagplaats. Na het faillissement van dit bedrijf werd het van 1919 - 1972 eigendom van de firma Hulstkamp & Zoon & Molijn die er een distilleerderij vestigde voor jenever. Bij de aanval op Rotterdam in mei 1940 werd dit gebouw als een van de eerste door Duitse militairen bezet. In 1979 kwam het gebouw leeg te staan. Van 1980 tot 1995 was er het Mariniersmuseum gevestigd.

Na een grondige renovatie van het kantoorgebouw en sloop van de distilleerderij werd het monumentale pand een bedrijfsverzamelgebouw annex feest- en congrescentrum dat wordt geëxploiteerd door MPS | food & design (Martinair Party Service). In de centrale expeditieruimte werden galerijen aangebracht en de voormalige opslagruimtes werden omgebouwd tot kantoorruimtes. Beneden zijn vijf zalen en in het centrale deel is een wintertuin met glazen dak. In de zalen De Branderij en De Stokerij zijn oorspronkelijke staalconstructies zichtbaar. In 2012 heeft er een metamorfose van de zalen plaatsgevonden.

Foto en Informatie komen uit wikipedia.

[anon-apple]

Hot Soup And Soft Bread 2

Table of Contents and Synopsis <- Chapter 1

T/N: Chapter on WordPress if anyone prefers reading there.

Chapter 2: Chocomonts II

After getting off work past 7 pm, Zhong Qiuyan stood outside the roast duck shop in the East City food market. In the rotating oven, a couple of oily, crispy, roasted ducks rode the final merry-go-rounds of their lives. A typhoon was passing through this part of the country, and the rain hadn’t stopped in the past few days. Qiuyan took off his cap and stared blankly at the evening news playing on the wall-mounted television. 

Apparently, the second season of Rose Garden ended badly. Apparently, a patient at the People’s Hospital accidentally ate the medicine for the patient in the next bed and fell into a coma. Qiuyan received his order of half a roasted duck, already sliced, from the shop owner. He smiled, eyes curving, and said “Thanks.” He then drove to Qin Qin Homeland, intending to bring the roasted duck to Liu Xiaoying and Zhou Cunqu to supplement their dinner.

Qiuyan parked his car downstairs. A pair of old men, twins, who lived on the second floor of Building No.3 were sitting in the entranceway of someone else’s garage playing a game of Go. The two of them gossiped about Liu Xiaoying’s family as they played. Qiuyan, holding the roast duck, walked up to listen. The two old men fanned themselves at the exact same pace, and whenever one spoke, the other would echo his words.

“Right, he hasn’t stepped outside in two years already. It’s a big deal.” “Right, it’s a big deal.”

Qiuyan squatted down next to them: “Why hasn’t he gone out for two years?”

One of the old men fanned himself as he replied: “I heard he used to be an architect. Maybe some accident happened.” “Maybe some accident happened.”

Cunqu asked as he held the box of roast duck: “What kind of accident?”

One old man placed a black playing stone onto the board, the other followed with a white stone, saying: “Not sure, do you know?” “Not sure, do you know?”

“I don’t know.” “I don’t know.”

Cunqu asked again: “And so these past two years he hasn’t left the building at all?”

An old man nodded, replying: “Haven’t seen him downstairs.” “Definitely haven’t seen him downstairs.”

As Cunqu was about to get up and leave, one old man grabbed him and asked: “Where did the roast duck come from?” “Where did the roast duck come from?”

-- 

When Cunqu made his way upstairs, Xiaoying was sitting by herself on the sofa folding laundry. She had already eaten. Underneath the heat-insulating cover on the dining table were the dishes left out for Qiuyan and Cunqu. Qiuyan placed the roast duck down on the table, asking, “Ge hasn’t eaten either?”

Xiaoying turned and gave him a look, saying: “Eat your own food.”

Qiuyan sat down and took a bite of the red braised pork, complementing: “Liu Xiaoying, this is delicious.” After he ate and washed his dishes, he squeezed himself onto the sofa and started helping Xiaoying fold the laundry. The rain outside came down harder and harder.

Xiaoying suddenly spoke up: “His appetite’s fickle. Sometimes, he won’t eat for a couple of days in a row.”

Qiuyan replied “Oh” as he folded Cunqu’s grey pajamas. Xiaoying stopped what she was doing, and looked at the TV screen. 

“Sometimes, he won’t even sleep.” 

Indeed, Cunqu often could not fall asleep. At night, he’d wander back and forth in Xiaoying’s condo. He’d sit out on the balcony and smoke. And then he’d go back the next day, thoroughly clean up the tea jar he was using as a makeshift ashtray, and place it back to where it was. Xiaoying no longer tried to tell him to smoke less, or to tell him not to smoke at all.

But she would leave out the Chocomonts she bought for him on the coffee table. And she would leave out a blanket on the sofa. Xiaoying had been a teacher her whole life. She had four kids, and many more students, colleagues, and friends. But ever since Cunqu moved in, Xiaoying stopped inviting any of them over to her home.

The only exception was last week when Cunqu’s aunt came over to discuss the matters of Xiaoying’s 80th birthday celebration. Later that night, Xiaoying sat on the sofa with the blanket draped over her. When Cunqu left his bedroom to get water, Xiaoying spoke to him. Her hair was down, draped loose over her shoulders, and smile lines decorated her eyes. “For my 80th celebration, will you attend with me?”

Cunqu stilled, with a cup of water in his hands. Xiaoying shook her head and said, “It’s alright if not.”

--

2 am at night, Cunqu sat on the sofa and pulled the blanket over himself. He grabbed the box of Chocomonts. On the box was a sticky note: Ge, it’s Zhong Qiuyan. Open the topmost drawer of the coffee table.

Cunqu bent down, pulled open the drawer, and took out what was inside. On top of the box he took out was another sticky note: Ge, I’m giving you my Anpanman[1] nightlight. Whenever I can’t sleep, I always switch it on.

Cunqu pressed the on button of the nightlight. The entirety of Anpanman’s figure glowed, and the light that landed on the floor reminded him of fragments of stars. Cunqu hugged his legs and stared blankly at the fragmented light rays. 

--

The following night, Cunqu found a note on the fridge door. Zhong Qiuyan wrote: Liu Xiaoying and I made a beverage perfect for this rainy season. Dear guest, please open the fridge and have a taste.

And so Cunqu obediently opened the fridge door and poured himself a glass of juice. He mulled over the taste for a while. He tasted pear, avocado, and chia seeds. Cunqu sat by the dining table and finished the entire glass, then walked to the balcony to have a smoke. It’s been quite a few days, but he had only one real face-to-face encounter with Zhong Qiuyan. He was rather tall and broad, and his eyes were naturally curved downwards at the ends. Whenever he smiled, he gave the impression that he was genuinely happy. Cunqu, his hair spilling onto his shoulders, held a cigarette between his fingers and blew out a breath of smoke towards the sheets of rain outside. 

On the third night, Cunqu found a sticky note on his ashtray: Do you like water lilies?

He doesn’t know why Qiuyan was asking this. But the next night, he saw a small purple water lily on the dining room table. Xiaoying wasn’t the type to waste money on flowers. Qiuyan had left a note on the flower vase saying: I planted this myself in my parents’ flowerbed. It’s currently the flowering season for water lilies. It blooms only in the daytime, remember to come out and take a look.

Cunqu stroked the petals of the water lily. He had almost forgotten the texture of a real plant. That night, Cunqu discovered for the first time how pleasant a water lily smells. 

The following morning, Xiaoying moved the flower onto the balcony after she woke up. She headed downstairs for her morning exercises while yawning. Qiuyan, who had a day off from work, ran into her downstairs and asked for the keys. 

When he opened the door, he saw that Cunqu’s bedroom door was open. Qiuyan looked around the living room and finally found him leaning against the railings of the balcony, watching the yet-to-open purple flower bud. That day was the first sunny day in a while. Wearing a tank top, Cunqu raised his head and pulled all of his hair back into a ponytail. He leaned over the railing as he watched for the purple water lily to bloom. On the side of his earlobe was a small mole, almost resembling an ear piercing.

Cunqu stood there and waited aimlessly, as if he had all the time to spare. Occasionally he would lean in and smell the flower.

And Qiuyan from behind, still clutching the keys, stared at him.

--

Aside from the few times he’d come out to look at the water lily, Cunqu still rarely showed his face in the daytime. Qiuyan worriedly asked Xiaoying: “Won’t he be calcium-deficient like this?”

Xiaoying almost laughed out loud. 

They were currently standing next to the dining table folding dumplings and wontons. Xiaoying instructed Qiuyan, and Qiuyan stood at attention, folding the dumpling skins as he replied: “Yes, teacher Liu. Understood, teacher Liu.”

They placed the fruits of their battle into the freezer. Qiuyan stuck a sticky note on the fridge door, writing: The second section of the freezer has celery and pork dumplings as well as mushroom and pork dumplings. Those who have tried it reported their backs and legs stopped hurting; they may supplement calcium. The dumplings make for a good night-time snack, remember to eat them. (Zhong Qiuyan)

When Cunqu left his bedroom that night, he stared at the sticky note for quite some time. The next day, after Qiuyan left, Cunqu came out for a glass of water. Xiaoying asked from behind him: “Does it bother you when that kid Zhong Qiuyan comes over? When Grandma gets her cast removed there won’t be any problems anymore. I can tell him to stop coming over.”

Cunqu lifted his head and drank half the glass of water. He then ran his hand through his hair, lightly replying: “I, don’t mind.”

Xiaoying looked at him. Cunqu took his glass, walked back towards the bedroom, and said once more, “I don’t mind.” 

Footnotes

[1]  The protagonist of a Japanese comic book series by the same name. He’s a superhero with red bean bread as his head.

T/N: I'm also posting these translations onto a WordPress blog for better formatting (especially for footnotes!) Feel free to read there if you guys prefer :)

Chapter 3: Chocomonts III ->

[autumnalwalker]

A Dream About An Escalator

A minor goddess once challenged a mortal man to create a work of art worthy of Her divinity.  If he succeeded, he could have any blessing that was within Her power to grant.  If he failed, he would only receive Her mockery.  Either way She would be entertained.

The man declared from the beginning that he wanted no reward, only the ability to work unimpeded and see the project through to the end.  It seemed a reasonable request and one more likely to give Her what She wanted in the end, so She cleared the way for him

Above all else, the man loved escalators and the opportunity to design and build one of his own was reward enough in and of itself.  With divine intervention opening his path but not guiding his hand, he managed to be involved in every step of the process, from initial drafting to talks with city planners and architects to the physical construction to the final flip of a switch that would set his creation into motion.

Along the way, the goddess could not help but fall a little bit in love with the man for his purehearted passion and devotion, but knew better than to act on the star-crossed emotions.  Such unions never end well and She knew that his love was not for Her but for escalators.

Once the project was complete, he rode his escalator once and then returned to his normal life, never to see it again nor to ever create another escalator.

The most perfect escalator you’ve ever seen connects the rarely-visited top floor of an office building to the almost-never-visited glass-domed rooftop.  It is a short ride, less than thirty seconds in either direction.  The escalator is always perfectly maintained even as the rest of the building falls into disrepair with the passage of time.

Ascend the empty tower that is always forgotten by those who condemn buildings for destruction.  You’ll have to take the stairs, for the power has long since been disconnected.  At the top, you’ll find an escalator running in pristine condition.  Step onto it and feel the simple joy and wonder.  Look behind you when the sun or moon hits just right and you’ll see a goddess riding the moving stairs up and down for hours at a time.

[jasminebutintaiwansojiemin]

July 13th, 2024 星期六 - 西門地 + 東三水街市場_新富市場 + Taipei Botanical Gardens

We met around 9:30 am and headed on the green line to the blue transfer station where we rode the MRT to the Longshan stop. As soon as we got out of the station, the Longshan Daoist/Buddhist temple was in view. It was very beautiful and colorful. First, we headed to the wet market. By the name, I assumed “wet market” meant mainly fish/seafood but it was just an outdoor market selling fruits, vegetables, meat, fish, and other goods. Our tour guide said that when he was a kid, he would go with his grandmother. It heavily reminded me of how I would go to very similar markets with my grandmother in Jamaica. As we entered through the dragon side, the wide variety of fresh produce could be seen everywhere you look. I noted that it was mostly older people buying and selling at the market. Our tour guide noted that there are increasingly less and less wet markets in Taiwan, as many opt to go to grocery stores instead.

After making our way through the market, we headed towards Longshan temple. A place of worship mixed with the Daoist and Buddhist beliefs, it was extremely colorful and adorned with porcelain, gold, and jade. As we walked through the temple, we got to see and try out using the moon stones to answer our questions. In the Daoist part of the temple, there were several shrines for different gods such as the gods of love, war, and health/wellness. There was also an area where one can buy talismans/good luck charms. I definitely want to return tomorrow to buy good luck charms for my friends and family.

After the temple, we rode the MRT again and ended up at the Taipei Botanical Gardens which we walked through before ending up at a museum for a famous Taiwanese Architect. After exploring the museum, we took the MRT once more and ended back in Ximendi, where class was dismissed. Afterwards, I went along with some of my classmates to eat hot pot. After lunch, the girls all went shopping around Ximendi for some cut clothes. We also colored the Red House and surrounding flea market shops before returning home on the MRT green line. Before entering the hotel, we stopped at a Family Mart so I could buy a special Kyoho grape redbull—something we definitely don’t have back home.

Academic Reflection

I was very interested in the wet markets we visited today. I ended up doing some research on wet markets in Taiwan, especially the differences between those in Taiwan and those in Mainland China. I found that apparently that has been a large increase in regulation of the wet markets in recent years. Live-killing of animals and the selling of live animals have been cracked down on, but you can still buy snakes, turtles, and live fish sometimes. I also found online how the Jianguo Wet Market in Taichung was torn down and re-made into a building that even includes industrial refrigerators and breastfeeding rooms.

Our tour guide also told us about a jade market that happens on the weekends a wet market like the one we visited today. Turns out it is the a similar area to the Jianguo market previously mentioned. This immediately sparked my interest because one of the things I really wanted to buy in Taiwan is jade jewelry. At this market, one can also buy an array of gorgeous flowers and plants. Located in Da’an and open from 9am to 6pm, there are about 700 stalls selling many goods from and flowers, to ceramics and furniture. I most definitely plan on going tomorrow to buy jade jewelry.

[zacksbloghpc]

Weekly Journal 1 : Traveling Experience to Singapore

What am I grateful for? I am grateful that the world has given me another chance to live a healthy life and spend more time with my family. So, today I would like to tell a story about my experience going to Singapore with my family. A month ago, my mother and her siblings organized a trip. My mother suggested going to Singapore. She has been longing to visit The Universal Studio Singapore because a lot of her friends recommended her to go there. While some disagree, claiming that the place is for kids or that it is not worth their money, my mom persuaded them, saying they should give it a chance and don't judge a book by its cover. They yielded and agreed with my mom. After much deliberation, they've concluded on staying with my mom's sister, who lives in Johor, before going to Singapore.

Time fades quickly, without realizing it is almost the day. Before going, my mom ensured that everything was sufficient, such as medications and snacks. We will be going with a bus since my mom's family consists of approximately 21 people. Everything went smoothly without any obstacles barricading our journey. As we arrived, I was dumbfounded seeing the beautiful creations of many talented architects, especially the renowned Universal Studio Rotating Globe. To start our journey, we went to the Shrek 4-D Adventure. As always, the Shrek franchise never disappoints us. The story was very funny and interactive. There's a scene where the audience will get sprayed with water because Donkey was spraying water on Shrek's face. It makes me wonder, How can they time all of these special effects so perfectly every time? 

After having fun there, of course we would be hungry, so we went to grab some food. We even went on and bought the limited edition Optimus Prime cup. Once done, we took a walk to process our food. We went to the merchandise store to buy some t-shirts as keepsakes. Now, we will be going to one of the main attractions for the theme park, which is The Transformer: The Ride 3D. I was very hyped to try this ride because I have read tons of reviews saying the ride is worth every second they spent waiting, and just now I understand the meaning of that statement. We had to wait for a whole 3 hours in line just to try this ride. After 3 whole hours, the time has finally come. As the worker there made sure everyone's safety gear was working, I couldn't contain myself from being excited and started shaking violently. As the ride went on, my mind changed from being excited to being in awe. I was so immersed in the ride to the point that I felt like I was the one controlling the ride. Overall, the ride was so good that I would not mind spending another 3 hours in queue to ride it again.

For our last ride, we went on to ride the Shrek Roller Coaster, which is called the Far Far Away. I was actually quite nervous to ride it because it is actually my first time riding a roller coaster. The interesting part about the ride is that the roller coaster itself is a replica of Donkey's wife, which is Elizabeth. Since I sat in the front row, it was actually quite funny seeing a dragonhead in front of me. The ride itself was very fun and thrilling, and of course I screamed hysterically during the ride. I even noticed people from below were waving while laughing at us. 

To wind down our day, our whole family gathered around the Universal Studio Rotating Globe and took a family picture. It was and always will be one of, if not the most memorable day of my life. After that, we went on and rode the bus to return to my mom's sister's home. While on the bus, everyone stated that they enjoyed the theme park and was relieved that my mom suggested it. My mom, who is flashing a grin, said that we should have trusted her and let her plan the next family trip. I wonder where we are going next.

[kagrena]

VYRA

When you come to, it's after four thousand years of being stuck while the whole world's been spinning around you, and you barely recognise a thing. They don't recognise you, either. You're not the half-wild dwemer bastard daughter of some Telvanni wizard-lord, nor are you the architect formerly known as Rzarak, fallen from grace. You don't know if you can go back to being Vyra Rzarak Demnevanni. Maybe some clans can continue on like nothing happened, go back to their workshops where the tones stopped singing so long ago, but you -- you were determined to go your own way, to make something of yourself without the choirs and the clans chiefs trying to figure out what to do with you, without the acolytes who wanted to rip out your throat and the bell towers ringing your name and the half-dozen mentors who scratched their heads because you, Vyra, you could be something brilliant -- when you weren't being difficult, which was all the damn time. You'd taken one good, long look at that world -- and you'd left it all behind.

But not without having it all first. It was the Brass Architect herself who'd gotten through to you, after all, who'd seen you as more than 'trouble', and whipped you into shape. She'd taken one look at the engine in your big old brain, fed it the nuts and bolts of tonal theory, and got it to work, got you to work, got you to love, got you to hunger, and you grew. You grew until you towered over everyone else, one of the brightest minds of your generation, right until you were shining at the top of the spire. Introduced you to the big names, to the players and shakers, to Chief Architect themselves, who picked as one of their favourites - and they did pick favourites among acolytes, that was no secret. Yes, you were good. And once you realised exactly what you were reaching for, you wanted none of it.

The Numidium Project would ruin you all.

You had told people - you'd yelled your damn lungs out - that it was all no good, that it was all was rotten to the core, years before anyone else did. You brought it to the Grand Debate, where you were scolded like a child, and got ousted from Grand Chamber by the Chief Architect herself, who'd carved you up into little pieces and served them up to applause - but by the grace of the very same Chief Architect, you had not fallen fully from your previous stature. No, you'd been offered some write-off tonal engineer position in a minor outpost where you couldn't cause any more 'upsets' nor rouse any other 'upstarts'.

'She didn't want this to happen, Zakya. She's already overcome with grief,' you were told, by the woman you'd considered more than a mother, like you were already dead.

So you left.

You left the only world you knew and you spent forty years being raw and furious with the open skies and roads before you. You cut your hair and shaved your beard, threw out every precise instrument you'd ever touched for netch leather and a well-oiled crossbow. You cut yout hair and ran a caravan from Nchumzel to Tel Enora to half-way across Tamriel that you stashed with knock-off brass implements and any runaway who could pull their weight on your pathetic, wretched father's guilt money and you hated everything and everyone you saw along the way. You cut your hair and it always grew back long and thick and curly, no matter how savagely you cut it. You cut your hair and rode out your rage, tear up the road and everything on it, until the end--

-- until the Call came --

And 'I was right,' turns out to be no comfort at all, not even a bitter one, when the world's rolled on past you, and you haven't changed a bit.

Except that your hair's grown back.

You've realised you miss your grandparents. Even though they died fifty -- four thousand and fifty -- years ago. And you'll never see your cunt of a father again -- more's the fucking pity -- nor your half-brother, unless you waste half a funeral at an ancestral -- shit, what's the word for those things? Shrine?

Your hair's long past that feeling of fresh-cut grass and is beginning to curl around your ears. It itches.

You on keep counting their names. Lyr, the stable kid sweetheart who liked your guar -- you'd let her name them, Mistymuck and Needle and Calamity, that last one you both had a soft spot for -- she'd liked them far more than she ever liked you. She's gone. So is Knocks-on-Wood, the drover your father hired to spy on you, the only person you'd ever considered taking an arrow for. You'll never catch sight of Melyn Drels and his dimwit brother again, nor Shady Jade, nor the Alessian nuns, nor the Tel Enora cornerclub crew nor ---

Kagrenac would never speak to you again.

Kagrenac is still missing. You half-wonder whether she'd thrown herself into Red Mountain in spite.

But Bthemetz might. Bthemetz--

You learn that Red Mountain still smokes in the distance in Ald Resdayn, but the trees are now younger than you are. You only recognise half the road signs in Ald Cyrod. The traders on the high road gawk at you. The route is the same.

You miss them. You've always missed them. You'll always miss them. Your life will always be missing something, and you think you'll have to live with that. You're not happy, but you're no longer so furious you don't know what to do with yourself. The old world you wanted to tear up with you is missing. And you're what's left, Vyra--

When you get enough coin together to get a good look at yourself in a looking glass and not a muddy lake, rough stubble's coming through along the length of your jaw. You decide not to touch it. You pull your hand through your hair. Strange, how its length feels like a comfort now, when it had felt like a wound before.

When you raise a knife to your scalp--

When you raise a knife to your scalp, you think better of it. You finish your tea. It's the fourth era of some empire you've never heard of. Dynasties, what are they good for? You sign the guestlist with VYRA. You give no family name.

[greenbloods]

“Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff’s dwelling.  ‘Wuthering’ being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather.  Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed: one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun.  Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones.”

Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë

“The Gates of the Moon,” her uncle said as the party drew rein. His standard-bearer rode to the edge of the moat to hail the men in the gatehouse. “Lord Nestor’s seat. He should be expecting us. Look up.” Catelyn raised her eyes, up and up and up. At first all she saw was stone and trees, the looming mass of the great mountain shrouded in night, as black as a starless sky. Then she noticed the glow of distant fires well above them; a tower keep, built upon the steep side of the mountain, its lights like orange eyes staring down from above. Above that was another, higher and more distant, and still higher a third, no more than a flickering spark in the sky. And finally, up where the falcons soared, a flash of white in the moonlight. Vertigo washed over her as she stared upward at the pale towers, so far above. “The Eyrie,” she heard Marillion murmur, awed.

A Feast for Crows, George RR Martin

[skxrbrand]

Concurrent

Weapon he might be, but Kha'xanzyr was convinced that he could put up a meaningful defense against the Malalians. Right up until Verminlords came into the equation. Then, he wasn’t so sure. Most Khornate leaders had limited experience with defensive battles, always used to being the attacker for most enemies never dared initiate anything against a Lord of Khorne.

But if was going to be anyone, it would be the children of Malal. Led by one of his own kin, long since disowned once the treachery was discovered, however forced it was. Kha’xanzyr mused on Blackfury’s fate. He could give the Bloodletter an honorable death, but do not much else for him.

“ Take these.” Kha’xanzyr nodded to the wagons full of explosives that the Blood Legions had put together. Though scarcely mused upon, the Daemons of Khorne had a engineering capability that shouldn’t be underestimated. The weak would use deceit and cunning, and where they couldn't respond with blade or axe, the bloody legion were learned in the making of traps.

“ Take your hounds. Use them to bury them deep in the death; when they explode and kill the ratkin, we will know the enemy has arrived.”

Khazaan took the gift of arms with a gleeful grin. The Architect rather suspected the gravity of this particular war had escaped the Tippler. To die here was to be dead. No resurrections, not nothing. The Gorger’s cackle, accompanying that grin, only cemented his theory.

“ Hell of a plan, brother.” Khazaan complimented. Kha’xanzyr grunted, but didn’t accept the praise. After all, the plan hadn’t been his own and he could feel Tanakhuill’s smugness oozing through his axe. Convincing a Daemon from the circle of Carnality had been easy and unfortunately not unpleasant. Kha’xanzyr didn’t dwell on it, choosing to pay attention to Vhiarn’s approach.

“ You as well. Take your hounds. Bury the explosives deep in the sand. Take away the craven’s advantage.”

“ Mind my ratkin.” Khazaan added as an aside as she rode away.

“ This leaves us few hounds to monitor the enemy movements. Many do not return after departing. We must be careful, frugal.”

The Tippler shrugged, “ Chaos furies are faster than hounds. But, you are the mastermind brother.”

He slipped off the sandy rock he’d been on, swiping from lingering grains from his bloody skin. Kha’xanzyr rumbled to himself.

Chaos furies...of course.

[theperplexedpoet]

children of the algorithm

feed to feed, yet always starving and willing to take you with them the information age darlings children of the algorithm world went wide, we saw its pages we rode electric waves to meet gathered for a feast of ages without a single byte to eat generations born inside it connected through the disconnect all yet nothing was provided a brand new version of neglect world went wide, we saw it going witnessing a brand new schism off and running, never slowing dancing to a twisted 'rithm generations born inside it tainted temple of the obscene each a star that has collided now all just ghosts in the machine feed to feed, yet always starving and willing to take you with them the information age darlings children of the algorithm world went wide, we saw it dying extending far beyond safe reach for the views we all were vying to find a way free from the breach generations born inside it the dreamers caught within the dream archon architects invited to bid on gods behind the screen feed to feed, yet always starving and willing to take you with them the information age darlings children of the algorithm world went wide, we saw its pages we rode electric waves to meet gathered for a feast of ages without a single byte to eat (9/18/24)

[thequeendomhq]

NAME. Val’shira Melithar AGE & BIRTH DATE. 611 & September 13th GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/Her NATIONALITY. Avalonian SPECIES. High Elvhen FACTION. N/A OCCUPATION. Architect FACE CLAIM. Bruna Marquezine

biography

Bellanaris Melithar’s grief for her relationship was fresh and unresolved when their daughters were born. Twins, physically identical to one another in nearly every way. But she had only ever planned for one child and was now unable to fathom the thought of caring for more while she nursed her broken heart. The first daughter was named Mir’solas, named for the pride the mother had for their child. A name their wayward mother had once wanted to name her first child, long before she decided she could not continue on with her arranged marriage and a life in Avalon. The second and unexpected daughter was named Val’shira, an elvhen name of hope and promise that the journey that was taken would always be remembered. But Val’shira remembered nothing of her other mother; she had never known her and never would. She hadn’t asked to bear the burden of her present mother’s sadness and longing but it was what she carried with her since the moment that she came into the world. Val’shira had a gift of light, glittering as the future promised to an elve of her status, but it would not illuminate the answers to all her questions and could not brighten the dim life of their broken family. Her older twin sister took to swordplay and the life of a warrior, carefree and joyous in every way. Mir’solas was exuberant, vivacious, and weighed down by nothing. Bellanaris’ every attention centered on her first daughter and she turned a blind eye to the second. Still, she warned the both of them about the dangers of Taravell. She warned them that they could never stray long or far. And, if they ever cared for their mother, they would not think to stray at all.

Val’shira could not say she was like her sister in any way but physically. She quietly took to the woods and creatures, she took to dusty tomes and blank parchments ready to be turned into art. Mir’solas brought music and joy everywhere she went but Val’shira brought trouble and mischief if she ever left the woods. Often ignored, she strayed from home and instead found company and joy in the friends she made within Avalon or in the Silverland feywilds, the balm to the loneliness of her childhood was the love of other elves around her age or the creatures of the woods. She ran with direwolves when she was younger and rode owlbears when she was older, trusting the loyalty and compassion of the beasts more than many judgemental elves. She was a strange girl, not easy to love with the fear of abandonment lending to a habit of pushing others away before they could think to leave her instead. The few who stuck around earned the undying loyalty of an elve that was empathetic, playful, mischievous, and all too curious beneath the thin mask of ire. It was these loved ones who encouraged her interest in art and who smiled with pride as Val’shira decided to give back to her people of Avalon as an architect. The illusions of her light created ideas; ideas manifested to dreamy mirages that the elve committed to paper. Val’shira’s passion lay in imagination and the discovery of beauty, the simple act of making art for art’s sake. There was a great use for that. No longer was she a wild child of the woods with a penchant for mischief, Val’shira grew up and gave back to become an elve her family would admire. For years, her noble mother worked diligently to advise Queen Tinúviel, an uncle took charge of Elune’s Veil, Mir’solas trained with soldiers within Elgar'nan’s Hearth, and Val’shira worked with other architects and artists to build and maintain the majesty of their home tree. With her work, it was often that Val’shira would visit other branches of the Laurelin and become acquainted with other elvhen. But she enjoyed staying behind, watching the Moongate open and elves come in and out. Curiosity prickled at her desire each time that the light of the Moongate bathed her in its magic. Though she remained, feet often planted on the soil of Avalon or barely out of the Moongate, only stepping into the feywilds and returning home within the month. “Remember the journey that brought us here: love and betrayal,” Bellanaris would say, “Taravell took your other mother from us.” 

Life held its own steady rhythm, a little tiring sometimes and a little monotone, but it wasn’t difficult to find moments of genuine contentment and fulfillment when she picked the right company. It was even easier to find joy when she finally took the risk and ventured out of the Moongate and farther into Taravell, into Lórien’dal, and far beyond the Silverlands. For too long Val’shira had tempered her curiosity and remained so close to Avalon, eager to please her mother who resented the world outside for taking away her lover. But Val’shira found solace there that she couldn’t within Avalon, and she found belonging in the chaotic independence of Taravell. She could not capture the unique beauty of it all, no matter how many times she sat in front of an easel to try or attempted to mimic it with her light. In time, Mir’solas saw this new joy within her twin; Val’shira was lit up inside from more than the light that flowed from her. The noble sisters became close to one another once they both reached greater maturity and understood how the treatment their mother had given them had always been unequal. The twin sisters, who had once been so aloof with one another, finally found equal footing. They played tricks on friends by pretending to be the other, and sat by rivers to eat their supper together. Mir’solas was there to hold Val’shira when she lost a dear friend, and she was there to smile and praise every new idea shown to her. Val’shira humored Mir’solas desire to train with her and encouraged her sister to chase the mysterious love that she had found, a love that she kept a solemn secret. Her unquestioning support of her sister would one day be Val’shira’s greatest regret. Like their other mother, Mir’solas would disappear within Taravell, but she had left them all without a word or idea where she had gone. Bellanaris’ pain was too great when they could not find her. It was almost a mercy, or perhaps a cause of the pain, when Bellanaris’ old age caught up and a clouded mind took over the old elve not very long after. Val’shira’s uncle took to advising Queen Tinúviel and Bellanaris returned to Elune’s Veil, slowly descending into a madness that only Val’shira was there to try to temper to no avail. None were safe from the Blight, not even her strong mother beneath the light of the Laurelin.

It seemed that in almost just a fortnight, Val’shira had lost just about all the family she had. A deep and impenetrable sadness seeped into her heart as she was left to wonder what had become of her sister when no one was ever able to find her. It wasn’t until the fall of Iskaldrik that a letter finally reached them, a letter expressing that it would not have reached them if she hadn’t been gone forever. Mir’solas had once been alive and well within Iskaldrik. She spoke of a child that no other had ever known existed, a child whom she begged Val’shira to find and care for. The details of the child were lost but hope was found; it sparked in Val’shira’s chest as she found the will to venture much further out into Taravell. If her twin sister’s child was grown, and likely alone, than they had to be taken home. Val’shira thought of all the silver elves and faiman she had seen in all her years, changelings, and even Dúnedain descendants. Her sister’s child was somewhere there among them all. All these people did not deserve to endure the fate of the Blight which was slowly encroaching on Taravell. Even those within Avalon were not safe but all the elvhen deserved to be united in this fate if they chose to be. Val’shira packed a bag and she made a promise; she would find her sister’s child and hope to reveal a way for all the elvhen blooded of Taravell to be united under the light of the Laurelin.

personality

+ creative, intrepid, authentic – withdrawn, brooding, mischievous

played by dany. est. she/her.

[rotterdamvanalles]

Het gerechtsgebouw aan de Noordsingel, 1900.

Het voormalige gerechtsgebouw aan de Noordsingel is sinds 1998 een rijksmonument in Rotterdam. Het pand wordt algemeen als het beste werk van de architect Willem Metzelaar beschouwd en dateert uit het jaar 1899. Tot 1996 zetelde hier de arrondissementsrechtbank en het kantongerecht. Het interieur van het Gerechtsgebouw kent een zeer rijke afwerking van het interieur die grotendeels nog oorspronkelijk is. Naast de voornoemde kantoorruimte zijn er parkeerplekken voor verhuur beschikbaar. Het gebouw is op dit moment in gebruik als bedrijfsverzamelgebouw.

Op 16 juli 1941 wist de bemanning een neerstortende Britse bommenwerper zo te manoeuvreren dat het niet op de huizen terechtkwam, maar in de Noordsingel. Daarbij werd het Gerechtsgebouw zwaar beschadigd. Een groep bewoners van de singel heeft hier in 1946 een gedenkteken opgericht.

Het gerechtsgebouw telt een kelder, twee bouwlagen en een kapverdieping onder met leien bedekte schild- en zadeldaken. Het negentien vensterassen brede en van oorsprong vier vensterassen diepe gebouw heeft een klassieke, streng symmetrische opbouw, bestaande uit een brede middenrisaliet van drie vensterassen, geflankeerd door zijvleugels van middenrisalieten en smallere hoekrisalieten, beide van één vensteras. De voor- en zijgevels zijn boven een natuurstenen plint opgetrokken in gele verblendsteen met banden en rollagen van rode verblendsteen. Natuursteen is veelvuldig toegepast voor hoek- en sluitstenen, consoles, diamantblokken, speklagen en cordonlijsten. De gevels zijn verticaal geleed door gemetselde pilasters in kolossale orde met basementen en kapitelen aan weerszijden van alle vensters.

De ingangspartij is aan de bovenzijde afgesloten door een groot fronton met in het timpaan een reliëf met twee leeuwen die het wapenschild van Nederland dragen. Voorts, in gouden letters, de inititalen van de architect: 'W.C.M.' Het fronton wordt bekroond door drie witgeverfde gebeeldhouwde figuren: op de nok van het fronton Vrouwe Justitia met weegschaal en zwaard, links een rechtsgeleerde met boeken en rechts een knielende smekeling. De middenrisalieten in de zijvleugels bevatten links en rechts respectievelijk de toegangen tot de Arrondissementsrechtbank en het Kantongerecht.

De prentbriefkaart komt uit het Stadsarchief Rotterdam. De informatie komt van Wikipedia.

[a-man-named-shang]

NAME: Li Shang AGE: 29, 30 in a month lol (2006-2012) GODLY PARENT (IF APPLICABLE): Athena AFFILIATION (CAPTURE THE FLAG TEAM/AGENT OF ERIS/HUNTER OF ARTEMIS/CAMP STAFF/ETC?): Team Blue Captain SPECIES: demigod

ABILITIES: Genius Intellect, Craftsmanship, Audiokinesis (limited), Telumkinesis (limited), enhanced physical prowess

BIOGRAPHY: Shang’s father Li Yuming once brought the attention of two goddesses. The first was Shang’s mother Athena, who fell for his mind as he invented the usb. In gratitude for his keen mind and innovation, Athena birthed Shang from her mind and gave him to Yuming to raise. Devyn then joined the family when Shang was seven. With the success of Yuming’s invention, he was able to provide the two brothers a nice home in Shanghai, where they wanted for nothing… except perhaps more attention from their father. 

Be that as it may, Shang grew up happy enough, and he decided that it was his responsibility to look out for his little brother. Yuming seemed to believe that was his duty as well, and rode his ass if he ever did anything that could be construed as irresponsible. He needed Shang to be ready. For what, Shang wasn’t sure. So even though Shang was still a boy himself, he started exercising and trying to get in shape so he could be ready in case anything happened. 

Unfortunately, as Shang got older, his presence was not ignored by monsters anymore. Shang was attacked at his school when he turned and he had to run away to keep the monsters from coming for his father or brother. He thought this was the best thing he could do for his family. It took him a year of life on the run before he made his way to camp. It was hard, at first, adjusting to the camp lifestyle knowing that he had been forced to leave his family behind. Worse, because he felt he had failed his father and his brother. He wasn’t home to protect them. 

But Shang threw himself into camp activities, training, and strategizing with his fellow siblings in Cabin 6 for games of Capture the Flag and joined in quests when someone asked for his help. He thrived in the community, and even found himself rather charmed by a hunk in Aphrodite’s cabin. And then the war started and Shang threw himself into strategy meetings for that and worked with other campmates to come up with better solutions for battles or protections for the people he cared about. His mind was constantly at work to try to protect the family he had found there.

Despite having completed his time at camp, Shang stuck by two extra years to see out the end of the war. From there he ended up working at an architect firm and moving up the ranks as people saw the brilliance in the designs he would come up with. Now, ten years after the war, Shang is back at camp. It was not hard to hear that his mother had a bone to pick with Ares. And, since Shang was a proud son of Athena, he knew he would have to put his talents to work. Maybe it was a simple Capture the Flag game for Alumni…but Shang would not be treating it that way. His mother was the one in the right, this meant that Athena’s team would simply have to be the winners of the competition. And Shang would do his best to help lead the way. If he doesn’t get distracted by his old crush. But there’s no time to fuel a crush on some hunk in Aphrodite's cabin when Athena's pride is on the line. Or is there?

[romance-untold]

ROMANCE : UNTOLD (CONCESSIO'S VER.)

Forget gilded cages. We can't contain the inferno that burns within us. This opulent darkness is a mere stage for our defiance. We are the architects of our own destiny, and Concessio is the anthem of our rebellion. Crowns and jewels hold no sway over hearts ablaze with a fire that consumes all limitations. Our eyes shone with a powerful purpose beneath the flickering moonlight. We forge our own path, fueled by an insatiable hunger for something more. The price of freedom may be high, but the cost of confinement is far greater.

A gold-plated cage with ornate bars that cast long, skeleton shadows held a ravishing heart. Not only was there the dazzling red moon beaming beneath the cold, sumptuous blackness, but there was also a mysterious feeling, almost as if the fog itself was alive. Could this be a captive or a perilous secret trying to escape? We promise to explore want, sacrifice, and the cost of pursuing our greatest curiosity in this discussion of desire and sacrifice that we bring before you. Visual metaphor at its best, the image itself.

Beauty and danger dance a tangled waltz in the realm hinted at by the finely made cage, a symbol of wealth and restriction. A questioning of the decisions we make and the repercussions they confront, a heart blazing with intense intensity.

The obsidian night mirrors the fire in my eyes. A loyal companion stands beside me, a reflection of the untamed spirit that burns within. Concessio beckons, a promise of freedom whispered on the wind. I rode towards it, not with gilded bridles, but with hearts ablaze and a thirst for the untamed. This is rebellion personified.

This is not a vacation that is meant for the timid. There is a lot of uncertainty in front of me, but the fire within me drives away all doubt. I am the phoenix that emerges from the ashes of social expectations, the storm that smashes the golden cage.

A hint of insurrection sends shivers through the obsidian night. The moonlight, a broken piece of resistance, gives the barren terrain an eerie sheen. A lone rider stands atop a magnificent steed, its coat as white as the gathering shadows, eyes blazing with unrestrained fury.

[annieintheaair]

If you like red hot chili peppers, 4th of July weather... you're gonna love liking me spicy

I was on Catalina Island one summer with my aunt, uncle, and cousins when I was a teenager. We were on a tour when we came across a buffalo giving birth. Everyone was taking pictures. I don’t know why but I didn’t feel like I needed a photo. My uncle said something to me about how the best photos are in our minds and don’t require a physical photo. While I don’t have a photo of the buffalo that day, I do have the photo in my mind.

Over the years, Dan and I never took many photos. While I find it sad sometimes that we didn’t have more, I know in my heart that all those mental images, the photos in my brain, are safe where no one can take them away from me. With him gone now, the pictures in my head are almost like a secret that I hold, only to ever be known by myself and Dan. There’s something special about that.

I got home last night and looked through some mostly blurry photos from the day. Nothing really captured any of it properly. When the night came to a close and I rode on the front of the boat, the wind blowing through my hair, and I didn’t have my phone to take any pictures. I sat up there and watched at least 15 different fireworks displays around the lake. I don’t think any picture would have captured it the way that I’ll forever remember it in my mind.

A lot of life lately hasn't gone as planned and I've had a lot of difficult days with low motivation. I somehow managed to survive my five-day stretch, with not much accomplished during the day at home. I made it to some yoga classes and tried to work on projects for my second job. When I do make it out to run errands, it often feels like I need to just keep going before I go home and quit before I get far enough.

When I finished my stretch of five on Tuesday, I decided I'd try to power through the day as best as I could. I only took about a fifteen-minute nap that afternoon before I had to get ready for yoga. My dad texted me reminding me that it was Taco Tuesday so I decided I'd go to MiCocina for dinner after yoga. I was the only person on the patio but I sat out there enjoying my brisket tacos and skinny smash margaritas.

Do you ever feel like you're really enjoying something and then something sneaks up on you and tries to ruin it? That's how I felt eating dinner that night. I turned around, and even though I had been to that MiCocina many times, and that shopping center even more times, I never noticed the church there. I immediately had to Google it. It looked so familiar to me, almost identical to the church that Todd tried to show me in Arkansas. As it turned out, the Marty Leonard Community Chapel here in Fort Worth was actually designed by the same architect, E. Fay Jones, who designed Thorncrown Chapel, in Arkansas. I couldn't help but wonder if he knew that this chapel was here in Texas.

Anyway, I got home from dinner that night and went straight to bed. I considered stopping at Central Market but decided against it and instead drove back there on Wednesday before work. I picked up some food to get through the week and even bought fruit to make sangria.

I was a little disappointed Wednesday night since the people I was supposed to work with all dropped and called out at the last minute, so I ended up being the most senior person on my crew. It wasn't terrible but it wasn't the best either.

Thursday morning, the 4th of July, I had an easy ride home without traffic. It was a nice change. I got some work done and then took a nap on my couch for a bit and then headed out and arrived at the lake by 4:30pm.

We spent some time on the dock, grilling, eating, and drinking, and then at around 6:30pm, we took the boats out to find a spot for the fireworks. We dropped the anchors and everyone got out to swim and float as we waited for the sun to set and the fireworks to start. It was so amazing the way that we could see at least fifteen different fireworks displays all around the lake. I had never seen so many going off at once so it was quite the experience. It was a lot of fun so I didn't take many pictures but here are a few:

Maybe this year has been so unexpected and so far from the plans I had in my mind, but I'm learning to accept the changes in my life, knowing that God has a plan for me, even though sometimes I struggle to understand.

The ride home felt extra long last night. It took me nearly an hour so by the time I got home, I was hungry and it was midnight. I made some gnocchi with pesto and watched TV before asking my dogs if they wanted to go to bed and they both immediately jumped off the couch.

I'm flying tonight but we have a lot more ground time than normal so I should hopefully be able to get some decent sleep. I'll be off the rest of the weekend when I get home at 6am tomorrow and then unfortunately go on reserve on Monday. I'm hoping to meet up with a new friend from bff, Gina, so we'll see what happens with that. My realtor has also been looking for places for me and saw a townhouse the other day that I really liked but they wouldn't accept a 2-year lease, which made me too nervous to go through with it.

Well, who knows what the weekend will bring!

xoxo

Annie