#shaggy parasol

[macroadventure]

[ecokuiper]

[theretobelived]

shaggy parasol, Scotland, Aug 2023

[mycolmyers]

Shaggy parasol detail. {{ Chlorophyllum rhacodes }}

[orofeaiel]

Olive Shaggy Parasols

[quibbs]

the thing keeping me sane lately is making little paintings of mushroom girls almost every day. here's a white double-ringed shaggy parasol and a rhubarb bolete

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Mushrooms

The edible parts of fungi are the fruiting bodies that are produced very dramatically by huge spreading masses of mycelia, which draw their nutrients as parasites from roots and decaying vegetation.

BAY BOLETUS (Boletus badius)

Usually found in woodlands, this fungus is pale to brown in colour.

Has light yellow pores on the underside and these stain blue if damaged.

The flesh also stains a bluish colour when cut and smells very mushroomy.

The stalk has no frills but is smooth from base to cap.

Can be stored by slicing and drying or flash freezing.

They taste fine raw when sliced and make great soup.

SHAGGY INK CAP (Coprinus comatus)

Very common but distinctive mushroom.

Easy to identify with its egg-shaped shaggy cap.

Often grows on newly disturbed ground in large clusters.

The cap is covered with beautiful white scales and there is no veil on the stem when the cap opens to a bell shape with a dark black underside.

Need to be young and fresh to make good eating.

Shaggy ink caps make a wonderful mushroom soup.

These mushrooms do not store well, so they are best used fresh.

GIANT PUFFBALL (Langermannia gigantea)

Can grow to 80 cm diameter.

The huge white ball of a giant puffball is not hard to identify.

Must be used young before the spores have time to develop and the insects have time to take their share.

Slice them up like rump steak to cook them.

By themselves they have little flavour, but fried quickly with a little bacon they are delicious.

HORSE MUSHROOM (Agaricus arvensis)

Can be found on old pastures that has been grazed by horses or cattle.

Has a slight aniseed smell and does not shrivel up when cooked.

Just beware you don’t over-indulge if you are lucky enough in these times of chemical farming to find a crop of these.

The cap of the horse mushroom may be yellowy in colour, but be careful not to confuse it with the “yellow stainer” fungus, which will make you ill.

CHANTERELLE (Cantharellus cibarius)

May be found in woodland clearings.

Seasoned mushroom hunters will keep their locations a close secret as they tend to grow in the same places each year.

Are fairly small – up to 4 inches (10 cm) across but usually smaller – with a distinctive yellow colour and a slight smell of apricots.

The caps become like small, fluted trumpets as they age and the gills are heavy, irregular and run down the stems.

Best stored in good olive oil or in spiced alcohol.

PARASOL (Macrolepiota procera)

Usually found in open fields and has large brown scales in a symmetrical pattern around a pronounced central bump.

The cap can grow up to 10 inches (25 cm) across and the gills are white.

The stem is long and tough with a large ring around it.

Will dry well for storage.

Make a delicious dish by dipping pieces of the parasol in batter and deep frying.

PENNY BUN (Boletus edulis)

Also known as the “cep” mushroom and is a great prize for the mushroom hunter, as it has an unusual nutty flavour.

Found in woodland or sometimes in heather with dwarf willows, the “cep” can grow quite large – over 2 pounds (1 kg) in weight.

When picking, cut the cap in half to check for maggots. These work their way up through the stems.

Its cap looks just like freshly baked bread.

The colour darkens as the mushroom ages.

The underside will have yellow pores, not gills.

The stem is bulbous and solid white with brown stripey flecks.

Stores well if dried in thin slices.

HONEY FUNGUS (Armillaria mellea)

This yellowy-brown fungus is a tree-killer – but highly edible for humans.

The active part of the fungus is a black cord-like rhizomorph that covers huge areas under the soil and seeks out trees, which it destroys.

Normally grows straight out from trees and stumps, usually in large clumps.

The flesh is white and smells strong and sweet.

The gills vary from off-white to brown and the stalks are tough, often fused together at the base and with a white, cotton-like ring below the cap.

The caps become tough if you dry them so it’s best to freeze.

ORANGE PEEL (Aleuria aurantia)

An extraordinary, brightly coloured and very striking fungus.

Found commonly in large clumps in grassland on bare earth from autumn to early winter. The caps soon become wavy and are of fairly robust texture.

Quite small – up to 2 inches (5 cm) across – the fungus is bright orange on top and a lighter shade on the velvety underside.

These store well if dried.

WOOD MUSHROOM (Agaricus silvicola)

Only found in woodland.

A more delicate version of its close relative, the horse mushroom.

Does not grow out of a volval bag like the death cap and its gills are pink to brown in colour, not white.

The flesh does not discolour when cut and the smell is of a slight aniseed.

The cap is a creamy-yellow colour that darkens as it ages and is smaller than the horse mushroom, growing to only 4 inches (10 cm).

THE PRINCE (Agaricus augustus)

Resembles a stocky version of the parasol.

Grows up to 10 inches (25 cm) wide and is found in woodland.

The top is flecked with brownish scales.

The gills are off-white when young, turning dark brown with age.

The flesh is strong white and smells of mushroom.

The stem is very strong and often scaly with a large floppy ring under the cap – it is too tough to make good eating unless cooked in stews.

It has a strong flavour and can be frozen or dried for excellent winter meals.

FIELD MUSHROOM (Agaricus campestris)

Undoubtedly the best known of all mushrooms, before the days of chemical farming whole fields would be covered by the prolific field mushroom.

Get up early after a hot summer spell has been followed by rain to pick.

The silky white caps grow up to 4–5 inches (10–12 cm), the gills are pink, and the smell mushroomy.

The ring around the stems is very fragile and often missing.

Maggots can be a problem – check older specimens by cutting through the stems.

Can be stored by flash freezing or drying.

WHERE TO LOOK

You will always harvest your best specimens early in the morning. Fungi grow in a wide variety of places, but they will not tolerate chemical fertilizers or sprays.

They say it will take 20 years for the horse mushroom to appear in grassland after the use of chemicals has been stopped.

In fact, the majority of edible fungi grow in the proximity of woodland and many have close symbiotic relationships with particular tree roots.

But wild grassland does always produce an excellent crop of fungi every autumn and you will find each season’s crop in similar places to the previous year’s.

WHAT TO AVOID

There is probably no need to warn you of the fly agaric, as this bright red and white spotted fungus is so well known.

The most dangerous of all fungi is the death cap (Amanita phalloides).

A single death cap contains enough toxins to kill several people:

Usually it grows in woodland, particularly with oak trees. It can vary in colour, being similar in size to a field mushroom, but its characteristic features are white gills on the underside and a “volval” bag at the base. Any fungi growing from a “volval” bag are best left well alone for many are poisonous.

A death cap has white spores, not brown like most edible mushrooms.

Another mushroom to avoid is the “yellow stainer”, easily confused with field or horse mushrooms:

It has the distinctive feature of turning bright yellow when bruised or cut. It also smells rather like disinfectant.

NOTE. There is no easy way to determine whether a fungus is toxic just by looking at it. You should never ingest any unknown fungi. Fungal fruiting bodies can be picked out of the planter pot and thrown in the trash if there is a concern that pets or young children could ingest them.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ Writing Notes & References ⚜ Food History

[lindagoesmushrooming]

hi. I dunno if this is ok but I would like to show you the mushrooms I took pictures of at my grandparents? I dunno what kinds they are I just think they're neat. Love your stuff btw!!!

Thank you and thank you for sharing the photos! ❤️ (Yes, it is absolutely OK to share, it's always fun to see mushrooms! ☺️)

OK, I'll try to identify some of them:

Photo 1, photo 2 - shaggy ink caps (Coprinus comatus).

Photo 3 - common ink caps (Coprinus atramentarius aka Coprinopsis atramentaria).

Photo 4 - Cortinarius sp. (I'd say Scaly Webcap (Cortinarius pholideus) but I can't tell clearly from the photo).

Photo 5 - Inocybe sp.

Photo 6 - I have thoughts (from Lactarius to Cortinarius) but nothing conclusive.

Photo 7 - Clitocybe sp. maybe?

Photo 8 - From this angle, I can't tell whether it's Parasol mushroom (Macrolepiota procera) or Shaggy Parasol (Macrolepiota rhacodes aka Chlorophyllum rhacodes).

[skribbyposts]

Zosan haircut time!!!!

had to write this after getting the idea from my last post lmao. I love the idea of Sanji being like "ugh you look fucking terrible" and then forcing Zoro to take care of himself. they're so stupid and gay and in love omg. beginning part is mostly Zoro and Nami but that's ok because they're wlw/mlm solidarity always!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More than anything, Zoro loves sunbathing on the Sunny's deck. Something about the warm light makes him want to melt into the wood. However, Zoro finds it very hard to enjoy the sun when it is boiling outside, and he swears he can hear his sweat sizzle when it meets the wooden flooring.

"We're going through a summer climate, just wait it out." Nami sips on her martini, laid out on a lounge chair and taking cover under an umbrella.

"Easy for you to say, you witch. You stole all the shade." While Nami's basking in the shadow of her parasol, Zoro's sprawled out on deck, sweating his fucking balls off. His whole body is damp, and he's stripped down into just a pair of loose shorts to cool off.

"Go hang out with your boyfriend in the kitchen," She says.

"He's not my boyfriend. I fucking hate you."

"The feeling's mutual, you sweaty loser."

Zoro groans, peeling himself off of the floor to sit up and comb his fingers through his shaggy hair. It's too long to stay out of the way, and it's uncomfortably wet where it sticks to his forehead. Zoro would tie it back, but it's too short for that. In short, he is suffering.

"I'm gonna die from heatstroke because of you," Zoro shakes the excess moisture from his hands.

Nami scoffs. "Stop whining, hop in the sea or something."

Zoro briefly considers this, but decides that's more effort than it's worth and tries to take a nap instead.

Zoro hears someone stroll out of the galley, and cracks his eye open to see Sanji balancing a tray of smoothies in one hand with a beach towel in the other. He's dressed down, an open Hawaiian shirt and blue shorts replacing his usual suit.

"Hello, my darling, Nami-san! I've just prepared smoothies. Would you like one?"

"Yes, Sanji-- thank you so much," She says smugly, while looking directly at Zoro. "You're a saint, You know that?"

He watches the cook hand Nami a drink from the tray, and Sanji's eyes follow her gaze to the floor where he's lying. "Oh my god, marimo. you look like -excuse my language, Nami-san- a fucking caveman."

"What are you talking about?" Zoro would pick a fight, but it's way too hot to bother.

The blonde cringes. "Your hair looks like someone ate it and then spat it back out onto your head."

"Okay, well, fuck you too then!" God, everyone's out for him today. What has Zoro ever done to deserve this?

"Ugh. Stand up, you dunce." Sanji nudges Zoro's head with a sandaled foot. "You need a haircut."

"I can give myself a haircut." Zoro nods in the direction of his swords, trying to move as little as possible.

"Are you insa- no! I'm cutting your hair, properly. Now get up."

"I don't wanna."

"I swear to god," Sanji sighs. "My dearest Nami, do you mind holding this for a bit?"

Nami peers at the two of them through her oversized sunglasses, a knowing smirk on her face as she takes the tray from Sanji's hands. "No problem."

Zoro doesn't have time to get a word in before Sanji reaches for his ear and bodily drags him all the way to the bathroom.

----- "I don't understand how you let it get this bad," The blonde lectures.

Zoro grumbles as he slouches on a stool in front of the bathroom sink, glaring at his own reflection. Sanji was partially right with his comment earlier - Zoro's hair is a damp, scraggly mess on top of his head right now. From where he is, Zoro can see the cook as he lines up all his fancy hair-cutting stuff, whispering insults under his breath. He looks kind of...domestic, out of his suit. It's the one thing Zoro appreciates whenever the Sunny passes through climates like this. "Okay, I'm going to attempt to fix this mess, and you are going to stay still," Sanji asserts as he slides into place behind Zoro. "as in, do not move."

"I know what 'stay still' means."

"Surprising. I thought you only spoke in grunts."

They both fall silent, Sanji draping a towel over Zoro's shoulders and clicking a button on the clippers in his hand. Gentle fingers push Zoro's head forward to access the strands at the nape of his neck. The whirring of the machinery and Sanji's hums every now and then are the only sounds in the cramped bathroom, and Zoro almost falls asleep to the feeling of the blond's hands in his hair.

"Hey." Sanji delivers two sharp taps to the back of Zoro's head. "Stop slouching, you're making it uneven."

"I'm so hot."

"I'm sure you are, you meathead. sit up."

Zoro begrudgingly straightens his back, getting a better view of the cook's freckled face reflected in the mirror. He always gets freckles when it's sunny out. They look like little constellations, scattered across his cheeks like that. Zoro wants to touch them so badly.

A few minutes pass, and Sanji moves to the front of his hair, taking a black comb from the counter to parse through the mess draping over Zoro's forehead. His face is scrunched in concentration, a crease between his eyebrows visible as he snips away with a pair of silver scissors. Zoro just...watches, staring intently into the other man's eyes. He's not sure if he's delirious from the heat, but is the cook's face turning red?

Sanji pauses his ministrations to frown at him. "Stop fucking looking at me. It's creepy."

"Sorry, sir." That earns him a snort and another smack to the side of his head. Zoro closes his eye (reluctantly. very reluctantly).

It feels like forever before Sanji finishes up his hair, ruffling it slightly before commanding Zoro to open his eyes.

The haircut is cropped close to his neck in the back, his overgrown sideburns shaped to follow his hairline. His hair is still a bit long on top, but it doesn't fall over his face.

Zoro's reflection looks better; neat, almost. He actually really likes it.

"It's okay, I guess." Zoro's lying through his teeth. It's fantastic, anything Sanji ever does is fantastic.

Sanji looks at him through the mirror. "Hm. Handsome little marimo." He nods in self-approval before packing up all his stuff, whisking the towel from around Zoro's shoulders to take to the laundry room.

Zoro sits there, bewildered, watching the other man maneuver around the tiny space unbothered- what?

He turns to look at Sanji as the blonde saunters out of the bathroom, definitely already busying himself with something else.

When Zoro turns back to his reflection, he doesn't fight the tiny smile that crosses his face. Sanji thinks he's Handsome.

The smile's gone just as quick as it came, replaced with a scowl as he hears a female voice giggling through the wall to his right.

"Nami, I'm going to murder you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nami was eavesdropping the entire time lmfao.

Nami, to Zoro: wow so handsome!! such a handsome wittle marimo arent you so wittle?? ooga booga doo!!!

Zoro: i am not above killing lesbians. Anyway BRAND NEW HC that Sanji gets freckles when he's in the sun he's such a cutie patootie i love him.

Pre-slash Zosan domesticity fuels my soul <33333

ALSOO!!! opening up asks cuz im running out of ideas :P if you ask me for something I'll probably write it thanks

[summerwages]

Shaggy Parasol..Lepiota rachodes..

these are nearly six inches diameter with an abundance of buttons waiting their turn..they often fruit in aged stall cleanings..b

[memoriesofthepark]

Green-spored parasol 》 Chlorophyllum molybdites

Also known as the false parasol and the vomiter, this species is highly toxic but not usually deadly. It is the most commonly consumed toxic mushroom in North America as it is often mistaken for the edible parasol mushroom 》 Macrolepiota procera and the shaggy parasol 》 Chlorophyllum rhacodes. It can be distinguished by the green-tinted gills in mature specimens and its pale green spore print, whereas its edible look-alikes will have a white spore print.

Southeast Texas, 25 July 2024

[vahalia-cress]

⸸ Departed ⸸

Rain.

She loved it because it was a rarity to her, given her place of residence for many years. It had seemed like eons since she had witnessed such within the northernmost parts of Aldenard.

Memories were easily a blur, a haze of blips that barely made it into her consciousness. They were there, buried deep, set to death with portions of her past she had sought to forget; day-to-day erasing the parts of her that built her into who she was today. Easily cast aside as simply a matter of growing.

But who was she beneath the elegance, business, inheritance, and ambition?

Vahalia’s thumb smoothed over the tips of each finger, watching as the rain she welcomed to her palm soothed her warm flesh. A cool sting that reminded her that Ishgard had not been too far off from Black Water Bay, outside of the encased perpetual freeze that was what she had called home but had little to no emotional ties.

Emotional ties…Mmn…

Just the painful reality she had once lived there, even still despite how she found herself on the cusp of a move before the year’s end.

“Lady Cress.” The man approached with a heavy jacket, and the parasol along her shoulder lifted, angled, and properly kept her frame exiled from the downpour.

“A pleasure to see you again Callum.” she hummed and turned towards her familiar. Even in the rain, he wore the tell-tale symbol of his connection to his work within the market and among the Bay with the White orchid that was pinned to his breast pocket. His neck turtled into the large collar of his attire and his vibrant gingered hair wasn’t easy to miss. His scruff had been heavily grown out since she last saw him.

“Quite the day you’ve chosen to be out here.” he laughed, hands diving into the depths of his pockets and his attention washed out towards the stretch of the Laeves they had been there to visit, “Much of the debris has been seen to as requested by your proxy. As you can see much more remains to be done but it is better to decide now while you’re here if there is anything else that should remain.”

“Appreciated.” she mused quietly and the pair began to walk the stretch of the Laeves in a slow gait as they spoke. Callum filling in the Lady Cress on the soil, land, fertility, the make of the stones and ruins they had cleared away, and what further use they could be in future projects.

Light golden eyes roved over the lands – her lands, a small swell of pride knotted within her stomach as her eyes caught something not too far off.

Vahalia strayed from her company who eventually followed her and the pair came to stop before several sets of sporadically placed rings, all varying in size but all remained the same in which the circumference of the circles were peppered with white mushrooms.

Lowering, Vahalia crouched to get a better look at the fungi as Callum spoke, “Are they safe to eat?”

“Quite.” Vahalia responded with a small smile, dimple forming neatly on her cheek, “Mane mushrooms, or the ‘shaggy’ Mane Mushrooms they’re called in some places. Tall white caps, almost a scaly appearance –” she stood once more overlooking the collection of circles that natures bounty had drawn into perfection. Art.

“I can have them removed for you if you’d like. Of course, if they’re to be a nuisance.” Callum spoke, his hands coming out of his pocket as he lifted a foot to cross over the curve of the white mushrooms along the ground. Instantly he had been caught by Vahalia’s arm who barred his way at his chest to keep him from going further, “--Or not?” he looked down to the woman, puzzled.

When it seemed he had withdrawn from his attempt, Vahalia lowered her arm away and she nodded to the rings decorating the ground, “It’s wise not to step into them.”

“Why is that if you don’t mind me asking, they a trap of some sort?”

The sable-haired woman shook her head, “They’re Fae Circles, some call them rings or halos. Harmless enough until you step into them or disturb them. It’s said that they’re marks on the earth where witches have once held their rituals during certain days of the year or the turning of the moon. Some claim it is where the Fae dance and if there is one thing we know, we ought not to disturb the Fae or be tempted by them.” she smirked looking up to Callum, “Nor to tempt them.” she added.

His brows rose and with a small nod his hands dipped back into his pockets, “ Aye, very well then.”

Looking back to the collection of rings Vahalia lifted her hand to point out the locations, “I want these secured, fence them for the time being if necessary. I have an idea for this space.” she paused once more and looked over her shoulder, “An acre or two might do from the Laeves. I have an idea of what I wish to place here now. Expect the blueprints in the coming months and we’ll begin the work.”

“You’re commissioning me again?”

“I am. As I recall you don’t seem to scoff at the prices I’ve offered for your work. I’ll be sure to offer equal or higher value for your time should the project be of interest.”

Callum laughed and lifted a hand to comb his wet hair back, eventually coming to stroke at the beard he had been sporting in recent months, “Aye and I suppose you’re not going to tell me what this idea of yours is?”

“No.” Vahalia smirked gently, “I enjoy keeping people guessing.”

A small chuckle was shared between the pair until the transmission off the linkpearl in her ear buzzed to life and she placed a finger on the piece.

As Vahalia took a few moments to partake in the conversation from abroad, Callum lowered himself to pluck up one of the mushrooms and spin it between his fingers.

“I must go, something of grave importance has come up. I’ll be in touch.” She offered and Vahalia turned on her heel as she stalked along the slick grass in a hurry. Her gait picked up until she was bolting as fast as she could in a run for the Markets.

It has still seemed so far off and discarding her umbrella entirely she balled her hands into fists, willing herself to run as fast as she could through the slick grass, mud, and cobble.

‘I need you.’ She thought to herself.

Creature was silent behind her eyes and barely the shadows stirred until the faint growl of him echoed in her head as she had disturbed him.

‘I need you now!’ she beckoned. A hand flashed to her necklace as she ran, clutching it.

‘Need or want?’ the voice called back to her, scratching just behind her ears as it always had. She felt his maw upon her, his presence closing it.

‘Creature!’

She beckoned again, her voice loud within her mind's eye, the rain blurring her vision as she raced down the cobbled path, the market center within view but still far off. The sting of salt filled her nose and the fog that rolled in from the docks within the bay had her lost to Callum’s view.

Her legs moved faster, a sprint almost unworldly as Creature’s strength coursed through her that even within the grasp of the elements, Vahalia was very much the predator on the island due to Creature’s intervention. She veered towards the road, clearing logs and stone that had threatened her pace.

The voices from the market filled her ears and the lanterns hung brightly within the walls as she raced down the alleyway and streets of the Quill & Coven, shoving past all those within her way as the Aetheryte came into full view and when her hand flew out to reach for it, everything turned into blue fractals around her.

Wet, back in Ishgard the chill cut her to the very marrow but it had not stopped her from her destination. The warmth of the Cress estate prickled her flesh, fingers sheer ice by the time she burst through the door leading into Valeria’s room. It was the dead of night by the time Vahalia had made it back – a place she had left months ago for Tural.

The heat of the room that came from the fireplace within seared at her eyes but the vision before her was unmistakable. Annette had been weeping at the end of the bed, hands clasped tightly and she had been giving prayer in Halone’s name, something that had not been practiced within those halls for nearly a decade.

A prayer in Valeria’s stead.

Her feet barely moved and for the first time since leaving Black Water, Vahalia slowed, narrowly moving as she closed the distance between the threshold and bed. She had not noticed the open window and the curtain lulling in the chilled breeze when she swayed by it, she had not noticed the plush carpet underfoot or her blood sparking back to life from the warmth.

Tangled in the sheets of powdered blue, her hand lowered to feel the cold, fresh blots of vitality that had pooled and stained nearly the entirety of the bed, on and under Valeria’s frame. The very same that ran with life now within Vahalia’s veins.

“Valeria.” she spoke, quickly leaning in as she frantically cupped her sister’s cold, blood smeared face as a cacophany of emotions coursed through her, “Valeria!” She called again and she felt Annette curling in behind her to try and contain the Matriarch. A silent struggle beginning between the pair as Vahalia fought to connect and find something that remained.

“Val…” teeth grit, eyes welled and her hands trembled over the cheeks and forehead of her sister, “Sparrow….little sparrow…” she pleaded in desperation. Her chest heaved quickly and the ungodly wail that left her was eventually buried into the depths of Valeria’s unmoving shoulder as she knew right then and there, there was no life left within her kin.

She was cold. Stiff.

Long gone though that had not stopped Vahalia from remaining within the reality of what was transpiring.

“Please. PLEASE! You cannot leave me alone!” her hands clung hard to the nightdress her twin had been wearing, the darkened stains of sanguine bleeding deep.

Annette sobbed into the handkerchief she had been holding and when she reached for Vahalia once more the woman snapped over her shoulder, “Get out. GET OUT!” and the frame of the elderly woman eventually retreated from the space though left the door open.

Every part of Vahalia crawled into bed next to her sister as she placed her forehead to her kin and wept. She had wept for hours, not moving from the space next to Valeria’s body and when reality began to fade back in, her eyes sore and heavy, she lowered her hand to remove the sheets exposing the very places and wounds that had been Valeria’s demise.

Attacked while she slept. Peaceful and unknowing of what was to come.

She had struggled her entire life and only in the recent year or two Valeria had begun to bounce back from the spurn and betrayal of her father, past lovers who had seen her less than, her accident, and the struggle she endured with her health thereafter.

Valeria had hardly known peace. She had not yet begun to live.

There had been so many plans she had in motion, how she was to take over the Cress estate in Ishgard, having more of a hand in the business Vahalia led. She had a job she enjoyed and despite everything she had been faced with, Valeria was always the spark of joy within the house. Forever smiling, always kind, unfaltering sweet and gentle.

Vahalia had lost that part of her, the balance that made her whole. The kindness she knew she needed was a gift that could only come from Valeria herself.

Guilt ate at her the entire night, peppering kisses at Valeria’s cold knuckles and holding them to her face as if it were the last time they were ever to meet. She couldn’t even remember what their last encounter had been about or what the details had been; time had robbed her of the memory of something she thought could be so trivial. In hindsight, it would have been the most significant at the moment.

Had they taken tea together before Vahalia’s leave to Tural?

When was the last time they sat and shared a tart?

When was the last time Valeria bounded into the study regaling Vahalia of the relics new to her place of work?

When was the last time they fought?

Valeria’s still and cold hand cupped between her own and placed on her forehead, “I’ve failed to give you the nutrition to survive…”

Contrition.

Her chest ached, her blood boiled, a sadness and rage was roiling around one another that Vahalia couldn’t make sense of. The spark of pain and adrenaline only caused her to sob harder, rolling Valeria’s knuckles along her forehead.

“Forgive me. Forgive me….Forgive me.” she muttered as a mantra through her tears, over and over until exhaustion eventually came to claim her.

It was morning before the body had been examined and taken from the room. Awake and in the corner, Vahalia stared at the empty bed, all that remained was the blood of her sister. Aside from the material possessions within the room, naught else of Valeria remained – not even her scent of perfume. The copper tinge hung in the air, metallic and washing away whatever sensation of salt Vahalia had experienced in Black Water.

She was numb, eyes trained to the spot she and Valeria had laid together. One left behind, one having passed on. The very same place they had laid at night together talking, the nights she held Valeria to lull her to sleep when she had returned to Ishgard after four long years.

The very spot in which as children they’d giggle and hunker under the covers to read a story when it was long past lights out. The times they had pillow fights, the same bed she had sat beside when Valeria was ill.

Memories.

These were the ones she remembered and they were painfully reminding her of what joys she had in the haze of the past. While all else was suppressed it was the ones with Valeria that shined through.

Slowly, her tired eyes cut to the open window and the curtain that fluttered every once in a while against the new, Ishgardian sun outside. She felt no warmth, no ambition of a new day as she often felt in these early hours.

Her brow knit and her attention whirled to string her along back to her senses. Her intellect that had always carried with her was screaming at her to find out more. Vahalia needed details.

There was no way Valeria had done this to herself, all the signs were pointing elsewhere. Hyaka had been out to see to a task Vahalia had asked of him, to secure the twins from Coerthas with the House guard. Bruce and Marion along with the au pair had been in Coerthas with Evran and Idalia to oversee their needs while they stayed with Osric. Castien had been dispatched on errands – the Household had been nearly empty. An ideal time to strike.

Finally, Vahalia’s feet moved and she withdrew from the room to find Annette in a brisk walk.

Someone, somewhere was responsible, far more than Vahalia had been for her folly.

⸸ [ TBC ] ⸸

@the-unfinished-grimoire for credit. Thank you for inspiring me!

[cannibalcoalition]

Underside of leucoagaricus americanus (shaggy parasol mushroom) found at McVay Park.

Part of the Wild Westerville Colorable Art Book, order a copy here.

Prints of this image available on Redbubble.

[dansnaturepictures]

Fungi time

As autumn intensifies whole woods, logs, lawns and heaths come alive with enchanting colour, eccentric fruiting bodies of fungal wonders.

The fairytale toadstool, ruby and white-spotted fly agarics spring up, pizza like as they unfurl. Enigmatic pure purple amethyst deceivers and otherworldly devil’s fingers sights to behold; as are mysterious shaggy ink caps that emerge in the grass and warm coloured shaggy scalycaps that huddle around tree bases. Yellow stagshorn, club-like tuning fork and candlesnuff fungi rise into the air. The mighty parasols, complex panthercaps, puffball, earthball and false death caps bring beautiful patterns. It's satisfying to observe bleeding fairy helmets, waxcaps, the meandering patterns of turkey tail; earthstars and eyelash fungi other treasured prizes of captivating fungi watching walks.

[ggenggar-draws]

I made a mushroom chess set!

+Details about the set, and more pics under the cut

The two sides are divided into ‘edible’ and ‘poisonous’ mushrooms in Florida

EDIBLE

KING: Chicken of the Woods

QUEEN: Chanterelle

BISHOP: Shaggy Mane

KNIGHT: Oyster

ROOK: Indigo Milk-Cap

PAWNS: Puffball

POISONOUS

KING: False Parasol

QUEEN: Destroying Angel

BISHOP: Deadly Galerina

KNIGHT: Jack O'Lantern

ROOK: Fly Agaric

PAWNS: Sulfur Tuft

Here are some of my faves :-) (Fly Agaric, Shaggy Mane, and Chicken of the Woods)

[wild-e-eep]

A couple of shaggy parasol mushrooms - Chlorophyllum rhacodes - by Kilfinan Bay yesterday.