#sea-faring

[thebeautifulbook]

VIKING TALES by Jennie Hall (Chicago/New York/London: Rand McNally, 1902) Illustrated by Victor R. Lambdin.

source

[chaiaurchaandni]

does throwing a stone at a tank

make a child a terrorist?

is terrorism about resisting oppression? is terrorism about demanding your birthright to live safely and peacefully in your homeland? is terrorism about hating the killers of your family, your friends and your people?

accusations of terrorism are often weaponized against those fighting for liberation and sovereignty and dignity. the french settlers called the algerians terrorists. the indian government calls the kashmiris terrorists. the pakistani army calls pashtun activists terrorists. the turkish government calls the kurds terrorists. apartheid south africa called nelson mandela a terrorist. americans called the vietcong and the black panthers terrorists. the israelis call the palestinians terrorists. all oppressive regimes are connected. all oppressed people are connected. injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.

[mandageban]

The sea curse: Oh, e-gads! Barnacles form and rave from my peg-leg to my temple, tentacles breach my fleshy exterior making me ghastly. I am doomed to the bottom of her blue body never to see clean shores...

The sea blessing: Elation! The grand blue temptress has made me a captive lover; beings of the ocean permeate through me giving me shelter in her worst seas. Barnacles, tentacles and all! I'm home at the bottom of her breach. I abandon shores for her reefs.

i like sailing myths and superstitions because most of them can be boiled down to "if the ocean doesn't like you it will chew you up and spit out your bones. and if it really loves you it will swallow you whole and keep you forever. good luck 👍"

[arcane-vagabond]

FANFIC COVERS. template by @saradika!

Don't Hang'em Til Noon Meet Me at the Sea Fool's Fare

Thanks for the tag @attapullman!

No pressure tags: @goldenseresinretriever @sorchathered @baezen @blue-aconite @roosterforme and anyone else who wants to do one!

[rene-elric]

To a new horizon

I'm excited for wol's grand summer vacation in 7.0!

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

In history there is a lot of slang used to describe someone as gay and I want to expand on that for mcd.

"He is of the sea" and "He is much more ucustom to a fiddle bow than a bow string." Is a way to refer to gay men. Kul'Zak was gay and being the wanderer and the bard, a lot of his followers were queer. Again, Kul'Zaks religion is incredibly small but heavily knit much like the queer community.

"She fights with her hands", "She trimms her claws" and "She prefers to drink from the source" are ways to refer to lesbians. Menphia while being bisexual, was well known to have a female preference. She fought with her hands and while a Mei'fwa was well manicured. I also believe drinking from the source is rather self explanatory.

"They are rather companionable" and "Much like a forest, they appreciate all life" is a way to refer to people who love all people. Used to heavily correlate to Irene but as time passed she was straight washed and believed to be a Matron only.

"They are well fitting for priest hood" and "A devout part of Irene's church" is the way to describing someone who is asexual, as a lot of asexuals choose to join a church as to have an excuse for their preferences.

"She was once of pine and now of sea foam" is a way to describe a trans woman. With a lot of sea creatures having the ability to turn themselves from male to female is population calls for it.

"He is one who makes his own blades" Is a way to describe a trans man. With the sword commonly referring to male genitalia, a man who makes his own "sword" is a rather grand indicator.

"They are as fluid as a breeze" is someone who is nonbinary. The wind has no shape or gender, it exists in the world. This is also a way to refer to gender fluid people.

stealing these. if you consent.

[edupunkn00b]

A Moment's Peace

Written for @tsspromptmonth's Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café event, for @nonbinary-octopus Prompt: a human gets gullivered on an alien planet inhabited by tiny aliens, preferably with a language barrier, at least to start. With a twist.

The sun shone overhead and a brisk, warm wind blew in over starboard. Waves slapped against the bow as the ship dipped and rose gently with the sea. First Officer Logan Sanders stood steady on the bridge, both hands gripping the brass railing as he looked out at the vast expanse of blue stretched in front of him. A spray of seawater rose up to kiss his hair, his cheek, and he smiled.

"Now this is just what the doctor ordered," he said to himself.

Logan's past few months had been a lampoon of urgent calls, half-completed schedules, and extended deadlines. Through the crush and tumult of competing priorities and and overwhelming list of open tasks, Logan has pushed through and carried on. By the end of it, he'd lain awake for hours each night, blanket clutched to his chest, as his heart raced, running through his completed work, searching for anything he might have missed.

By morning, he was a wreck, with the shadows beneath his eyes growing shadows of their own and every other word he spoke was followed by a quiet muttered curse. At last, he'd had enough.

Rather, Lucas had had enough.

"Logan!" he'd snapped, rising up from his chair and marching across the room, fire in his eyes. "Logan, you need a break! You are making yourself—"

Without looking up from his dictation, Logan raised one hand to pause the recording. "Luc, I assure you, I—"

"—and everyone around you," Lucas continued as though Logan hadn't spoken, "Absolutely miserable! I'm ordering—"

"Is that really necessary?"

His brother silenced him with a look and repeated, slowly, "Ordering you on shore leave. Anywhere you like, there's an entire planet down there, but you must go." Logan frowned and returned to his work. "Now."

Logan was big enough to admit when he'd been wrong. And while wrong was very strong word, perhaps he would have been wise to have taken a break sooner. Closing his eyes, he lifted his face and inhaled the perfect sea air. Yes, this was exactly what he needed. A reset, a recharge a—

A seagull's cry drew his attention and his eyes snapped open. He was on the open sea, leagues upon leagues away from any dry land. Certainly not enough to sustain a single prey bird. Frowning, he pulled a spy glass from his inner coat pocket and slowly turned on the spot. He scanned horizon. Nothing but blue, blue, blue—

"Land ho," he murmured, voice hushed. While there was always a chance he'd somehow veered off course, last night's stars confirm his trajectory. The maps showed no islands, no peninsulas, no headlands on his planned journey. A slow smile spread across his face as he tucked the spyglass back in its pocket and jumped down to tack the sails.

No known lands lay along his planned journey. Logan Sanders may have just discovered—re-discovered, perhaps—an unknown island.

The sun had dipped a quarter of the way to the horizon by the time the ship was within jolly boat distance. Logan set anchor and—with minimal difficulty—clambered about the smaller boat and lowered himself to the water. He left the lines down so they would be within easy reach on his return then took a moment to marvel and the clear blue water. At this shallow depth, he could see all the way to the bottom, smooth white sand.

He'd managed to find a sheltered cove with water deep enough to anchor the ship, and the shoals did a fine job of keeping away the choppier waters. Sea creatures abounded around him. Glittering fish, a few jellies lazily floating past, even several sea stars larger than both hands side by side had made a home in the seabed below. If the sea held such wonders, what might lay in wait of discovery on the island itself?

Gently dipping the oars into the water, he began to row toward shore.

Sand crunched beneath the jolly boat and Logan leapt out, boots already tied and slung over his shoulders for the small bit of wading he would need to do to drag the boat ashore. He pulled it in near enough a sturdy tree and tied it off with a neat slip knot then, on a whim, dropped his boots inside. The sand beneath his feet was powder soft and he found he rather enjoyed the feel of it between his toes. He could always return to the jolly boat when he wished to explore the deeper reaches of the island. He'd already spotted what looked like a cross between a turtle and iguana to investigate and, growing around the base of a nearby bright purple trees with spindly roots, another type of blossom he'd never seen before.

Scrunching his toes in the sand, he pulled out a field journal and a pen, then slowly approached the turtle.

As Logan walked, he felt the sting of tiny rocks he kicked up with each step, so he slowed his pace even more. It didn't seem to matter and, after a while, he began to suspect there might be some sort of stinging insects hiding in the sand, laying in wait for an unsuspecting victim to saunter through. He stood still and felt another acute sting just above his ankle.

He crouched down, peering closely at his own leg. Whatever had stung him had left behind a tiny stinger. He carefully brushed it into his palm and pulled out a small magnifying glass to better inspect it.

Logan got only one good look before he dropped both the magnifying and the object. It was no stinger. Feathered end and a sharp, pointy tip, even in the briefest of glances, the crafting was unmistakable. It was an arrow.

While he was inspecting the arrow, he felt more stings. It was beyond time to return to the jolly boat and his boots. Rising to his feet, he felt the sky spin around him and the sand rose up to meet him. His eyes rolled to the back before he'd even hit the ground.

~

Logan woke to the roar of the ocean and a wet lapping at his feet. "Tide's coming in," he muttered to himself, forcing his eyes open. The sky was dark, dotted with multi-colored landscape of stars whose names he did not know. He should look them up.

Pain shot through his shoulder when he reaching for his star map. His arm wouldn't move. He tried to look up, but he couldn't raise his head. The sound of the ocean grew louder, more distinct. It took several moments before Logan realized the true source of the sound. It wasn't the ocean.

It was people.

Rubbing his head back and forth, he was able to dig a bit into the sand. When he wiggled his head, he felt thin but strong ties running over his forehead, holding him down. He continued the movement, gaining slack and loosening the bonds bit by bit. The 'ocean' roared louder. His communicator—hidden in a broach to better eliminate the anachronism that might break the illusion of his trip—should be translating. But either their voices were too quiet to be picked up or, far worse, they spoke a language not yet known by this quadrant's linguistic database.

Once he'd gotten his head free enough to move, he turned to face the larger group of ant-sized people. Without a proper lens, and in the dim starlight, he couldn't make out much more about them than that they were bipedal and wore some sort of clothing.

He couldn't tell if they were still armed.

"Hello?" he tried, modulating his voice. "I am First Officer Logan Sanders." The ocean roared again and part of the group split off, running toward his feet and the water. "I mean you no harm," he added quickly. Though, it was almost laughable to think that was their first worry about his presence. "Will you release me?"

They shouted back at him, unintelligible, voices overlapping. It was little wonder his translator didn't know what to make of their language.

Now that he could move his head, he began to work on his hands and his arms, repeating the tiny wiggling movements to press down the sand beneath him. He felt a snap and, all at once he, could lift one arm. He lifted it and flopped it over, hoping the force might dislodge more of his bonds.

It worked and soon he found himself laying on his side, sand caked to his back and the side of his face. The shift brought his translator closer to the nearest group of tiny inhabitants and it crackled to life, a few consonant sounds breaking through in a garbled mush of syllables.

"Please release me. If you wish me to leave your island, I will. Immediately. Just release me." He tried again, unsure if he was even understood.  After a few more minutes, the growing throng moved frenetically, tiny arms waving at something or someone at the waterline. Logan craned his neck but he couldn't see past his own legs. After finding all the available slack, his earlier trick with the bonds had stopped working and he was now stuck on his side.

The approaching tide had begun to reach his ankles, each ebb of the sea tearing away a bit of the sand holding down his bonds. If they wouldn't release him, at least the water would.

Eventually.

Resigning himself to wait and ultimately flee into the sea that freed him, Logan sighed heavily. "This was not what I had in mind, Luc," he muttered.

Just then, the crowd grew animated and a tiny mass of them approached, carrying his magnifying glass like ants transporting a giant leaf. They brought along a bit of drift wood carved into the shape of a cone.

Or a megaphone.

Chanting to themselves, they arranged the magnifying glass near is lower eye and the wooden megaphone next to it.

"Logan!" cried a tinny voice. "Logan, look over here! It's us!"

Squinting, he shifted his head until the people standing on the other side of the magnifying glass came into focus.

Patton and Remus stood on a pebble that looked like a boulder, each laughing and waving their arms wildly Patton leaned over the megaphone and shouted, "Have you come to play with us?"

Sighing heavily, Logan rolled over onto his back and stared up at the stars. "Arch!" he commanded and a large holodeck control panel shimmered into reality. "Sanders to Sanders…" he said, winking at Patton and Remus.

"Yes, Logan?" Lucas replied with a barely disguised laugh. "Everything alright down there?"

"I'll get you back for this," Logan promised before dismissing the arch. He turned again to Remus and Patton and pressed a serious look onto his face. "Take me to your leader," he said, "Before the tide washes us all away!"

~

Surprise! It's a canonverse story set in my Side by Side in the Mindscape universe. Lucas has full control of his portion of the Mindscape and he maaaaay have set this whole thing up to let the three of them play together. Logan wasn't the only one who needed to blow off a little steam after the past few weeks.

And, yes, Logan and Lucas absolutely treat his part of the Imagination as a holodeck, up to and including making the portals to the Imagination work like the holodeck arch. It even works on command.

[aweirdofangirl]

Attempting to corral myself cause we are watching theirs stories inverted (or maybe reversed?). Erik was Mathias, and Mathias was Erik, and it took Mathias time (and Erik getting jumped) to actually stand on business when it came to defending Erik. I can also acknowledge that group think and peer pressure are powerful tools, and toxic masculinity is horrible and oppressive and all that.

But then I think about the rest of what Mathias goes through this season, and I get mad all over again. 9 more episodes of Felix straight bashing him cause he won't stop, he never does. He maybe gets outed to his parents, and his ex best friend and new best friend sleep together.

[c-schroed]

In my head canon, there's one tombstone at the churchyard on the cliff near Whitby that forever bears the epitaph:

But I am captain, and I must not leave my ship.

And beneath it lies a poor sea captain. At rest.

[synthetic-rust]

I went on the Waverley recently :D

[itspileofgoodthings]

KIT AND NAT MEETING AT HANNAH’s PLACE———-

[boogiewoogieweeb]

if i had a cent for every time jared harris played a veteran, harried sea captain who ordered his loyal first to have a female poc with ties to a powerful folkloric creature thrown off his ship bc of his own internalized self-loathing, i would have two cents. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

[soapkaars]

So it’s May, and apparently that’s when people start drawing mermaids. I don’t know if I’ll join in full monty, but it seemed fun to draw one today. Specifically a Peter Lorre one. I mean, there are two Lorre fishes already (apologies for my bad rendition of both in the upper corner - I was going for both the Horton Hears a Who fish and Slappy from Spongebob), so why not a merman?

[seasoning-my-story]

I just need nintendo to re-release the 3ds as the new model of Switch

They can market it as a "compact switch" lmao

[girlbossblackbeard]

look i know from a storytelling standpoint setting the revenge on fire/exploding it/destroying it in some fantastical manner would be very poetic and a bittersweet metaphor for letting go of the past and getting a fresh start where ed and stede and the entire crew can build a home together collaboratively from the ground up and it would be an amazing opportunity to use as a jumping off point for really complex and beautiful character growth for everyone involved but consider this: i lov her 🥺

[c00kietin]

when drawing Barmbrack and Colcannon, I made sure I was listening to this: