#so take this source with a heaping pile of salt

[astonishingillusion]

[endfght]

delphine has little to no concept of personal space. she was raised in a space where physical contact was rarely seen publicly, and especially within her family, it was non-existent. so, when she's on land and she sees people hugging or holding hands or kissing?? yeah, she wants to do that too. the first person she meets is getting a hug. when she watches a couple kiss one another hello/goodbye, she's giving all of her friends big kisses Right On The Mouth whenever she sees them next. she can and will insert herself into your life if given the opportunity whether you like it or not.

she was raised on the views that humans were less-than her people. she was taught not to fear them, but to be cautious. they were dangerous (but her people were moreso), but easy to defend against so long as you weren't caught off guard. to them, humans were monsters and poachers that wanted to capture delphine's people and perform vile experiments on them. stories told to frighten children and deter them from wandering too close to the surface.

^ her interest in them lay with her intrigue ; they were interesting to her: their customs, the things they ate, how they spoke, etc. everything amazes delphine. think ariel but like, creepier. she collects whatever human-thing that she can get her hands on, keeping an ugly, heaping pile of actual garbage within a hidden cove close to her home.

before she went on land for the first time, she was one of the few of her people that made frequent trips to the surface, or as close as others would allow. she only began interacting with others once she was on her own two feet, but she still quietly observed from afar for a long while before that.

the transformation in both gaining and losing her tail can be incredibly painful. for the first few hours after coming to land and shedding her tail (where the very tip remains, rotting away on the beach wherever she first shifted) her feet and legs are incredibly sensitive to most if not all sensations ; each step like walking over the sharpest glass and debris imaginable. the feeling fades eventually, but each and every time she returns to land is the same. for a short time it feels like she's suffocating, where her scales chip off and her gills begin to close up ― it takes a moment to get her lungs working properly.

her senses are far more keen than the average human. she lives primarily pretty deep in the ocean, with little sunlight penetrating all the way down there, her people adapted with an impressive sense of sight in little to no lighting. because of this, delphine can be incredibly sensitive to bright/flashing lights; similar to sharks, delphine and her people have an extensive yet somewhat limited sense of smell, detection depending on the magnitude of the source, its distance, and dispersal in the water overall; as far as food from the sea goes, delphine is a connoisseur. more than capable of passing a taste test blindfolded, she thrives with an excess of salt in her diet. sugar and caffeine have an intense reaction on her, giving her immense bursts of energy where she is overly excitable and harder to control; sensitivity to touch is inclined in general; her people oftentimes travel small, tight spaces using echolocation, and because of that, they have evolved with an enhanced sense of hearing than others of their kind.

[belanova]

hey i would take that post about feathers in hair with a heaping pile of salt - op meant well but ended up lumping all natives into one mass culture and the post is ill-informed about the sanctity of feathers across said cultures. also the main source they have is a link to a warrior cats fandom document that is filled with misinformation :O

:0

well honestly yeah you're right about the natives being lumped into one when they're actually like several different cultures so i just assume the Op was referring to United states native americans, but it's a thing i have seen like Nahuas have an acessory of several feathers going AROUND the ear called "The Copil"

but now reading through it I realize the Op of the tumblr doesnt specify WHICH indigenous culture has the sanctity of feathers cause... i dont imagine they're talking about Inca or catalan people😅

Best to still not draw the characters like that just to be safe, thanks for bringing it up :D

[tryst-art-archive]

Oct. 2012: Response 2

I had an epub class that was partially about ebooks and publishing for ebooks and partially about information literacy in the age of the internet. There's some odd reflection pieces scattered around related to that, so we'll throw those in here.

--------Response follows------>

            I tend to pick up information by chance. I don’t get info through TV, typically—I don’t have or want cable as I don’t much enjoy television, and what I do watch (thank you, Netflix) tends to be along the lines of Doctor Who or Game of Thrones with the occasional bout of How  How It’s Made or Dirty Jobs. I have a hard time focusing on spoken word—it contributes to my disinterest in TV—so radio and podcasts tend not to be options as I invariably discover that I stopped paying attention three minutes in and any attempt to go back and pick up what I missed results in my catching only three additional minutes. As to print, books suffer from much the same trouble as TV except that I love books—it’s just that I’d rather read fiction than non—I dislike magazines almost entirely—the writing tends to be bland, bland, boring, bland, with very few subjects of actual interest, even in a quality magazine, so they just don’t hold my interest for more than a few paragraphs—and newspapers are unthinkable; they’re far too unwieldy to even consider reading. Thus, I get information through word of mouth and the websites that I follow, picking up a new tidbit here and there.

            Usually the new tidbit is enough for me as they’re often trivial tidbits: what new videogames are coming out (doesn’t matter; I’m too poor to buy things as they come out) or dogs saving their owners from sure death (which is touching and all, but I don’t really need to know, do I?) or which celebrity did what (information I immediately excise from my mind), etc. When something is interesting or needs me to form an opinion, I typically set about searching not for the single most reliable source that will give me the one true, most factual answer but rather for as many perspectives as possible. I like to find the two extremes on a given issue and compare what they have in common. I’ll also try to get a few more neutral sites and a purely factual one, if possible, to round things out. If I’m lucky, there’ll be a third or fourth perspective available. I very much believe in context and circumstance as the determining factor for most human decisions and traits, so it seems only logical to me to look at a single thing from as many angles as possible to uncover all of its possible contexts and thereby not only discovering the commonalities in all the stories, uncovering the incontrovertible facts that way, but coming to my own conclusion on the subject by taking the best points of all perspectives and weighing them against each other.

            In terms of actual tool-usage, I find I don’t need to be too choosy. There are some sites I continually return to (The Escapist, Gawker, Boing Boing, Jezebel though I take them with an extra heaping pile of salt, The Huffington Post which is similarly salt-worthy, The Daily What, the BBC, etc.) and a few tools I use for very specific tasks; I like online databases for questions related to the arts, in particular, and I have a Firefox add-on specifically to help with finding the best deal when shopping. I also tend to peruse specialty forums if I need advice on something, whether that’s what computer to buy or how to modify a GoGo Boot to make Chell’s Long Fall Boots for a Halloween/PAX East costume. In general, I find that I prefer to do a mini version of crowdsourcing, gathering info from the specialist, the hobbyists, and the passionate and gathering as much of it as possible, instead of seeking out one site that claims to have the final say. Anything that looks like an ad, exhibits poor copyediting or extremely unkempt design, uses an overly cocksure and snarky tone without providing links and other sources to back itself up, and anything that displays a cruel or morally corrupt sense of humor receives none of my attention, and I shun the offending website in future searches. Other than these criteria, I’m pretty much open to any source, though not in isolation; it must be paired with its opposite and then several halfway points. That way, I feel as though I have not only facts but a full picture.

[iamthepulta]

Yep! Pretty much. (Also yes to the Chalcopyrite~)

I think 'copper slurry' might be almost-slang, to be honest. I think there's a more accurate term for it, but it's what all the mines and most people use. After crushing, it's easier to pump rock around rather than transport it dry, so copper slurry is the pressurized, finely-ground rock-solution that goes to flotation (used to separate sulfides and miscellaneous rock minerals), and then copper concentrate is what comes out. (Contains a good amount of copper, but also other unwanted sulfide metals, like ZnS, PbS, FeS.)

There are two to three furnaces usually involved in the smelting process, but the main process is adding Silica-Oxygen/Quartz (flux) and additional oxygen to flash-heat and oxidize the sulfide metals and form a melt that's poured off by density. Iron-Silica (slag) floats to the bottom, while copper is skimmed off the top (matte)

The undesirable metals, if they're lighter, end up floating as oxide dust out the uptake side. The oxide dust is then recycled back into the furnace with more flux to get as many metals as possible out. The offgas is where the sulfur dioxide goes: usually it gets concentrated and turned into sulfuric acid (and can be used on leach heaps). Before regulations, I think the sulfur dioxide just went into the atmosphere, which is why smelting in particular has a bad reputation.

There are other additives in the flux and flotation process that companies adjust to pull out specific minerals if you have an area with more of one or the other. Boron is common, I think; lime (CaO), and potash, which I think is K(OH). I'd have to go digging to remember which each one does though.

So after all that! There's usually a good amount of copper still left in the slag, so good refineries send it through a few more furnaces with similar processes to try and get all the copper they can out. After that, it's poured onto a slag pile (just an average pile of rock). Low copper recovery runs at about 50-75%, I think, while decent recovery is 75-90%, and very good recovery is anything above that. (Estimated numbers. Take with a grain of salt.) This is another reason leaching sulfides would be so valuable, because after all this energy put into separating the copper, recovery is still variable based on how good your flotation is, your smelter is, and how well people managed the additives.

I found this page and this pdf that do a good job of discussing the process too! (And they're the sources for the images as well.)

@iwhoneverbelievedinwar I will use any excuse to talk about copper minerals. xD

Okay, first thing, geology is basically inorganic chemistry 201. It's extremely fun. If you have a bunch of metals and common cations, nature helpfully has a common list of anions to pair them with. Oxygen, Sulfur, Tellurium, Chlorine, or bunches of elements to pair them with: Carbonates (carbon-oxygen), Silicates (silica-oxygen), Sulfates, Chlorides, etc.

These elements take different structures in certain conditions where they're happiest and have the right amount of these elements to form. (Minerals). And these combinations and rate of cooling are how we get different rocks. (:D)

(I'm not sure how familiar you are with carbonate/CaCO3, so I'll insert here: if you put acid on it, it bubbles/effervesces, just like Edward Cullen looking at a snail.)

We have three common types of minerals copper likes to bond to when it crystallizes: Carbonates, Silicates, and Sulfides. (C, Si, and S). Carbon, when released by acid leaching, likes to take its gaseous form and happily float away; Silica does not. (If you try, it forms this putty-like silica goo that sticks to other rocks and makes your acid drainage awful.)

Sulfides, on the other hand, are harder to strip (or just don't leach): sulfur isn't bonded with oxygen to make easy SO2. And even the sulfide did break down to create SO2 with the sulfur ion, your acid is now also SO2. This has been a problem for over a hundred years because 1) Copper sulfides are the root of almost every copper mine. 2) If you can't leach the copper, you have to smelt it.

Smelting is another term for, put simply, "setting it on fucking fire until it's liquid and the copper leaves like it's supposed to". This process is easy in theory, but more difficult environmentally. The US used to have a lot of smelters, but now we're down to just three. Because of this, we send most of our copper concentrate to Mexico, China, and Canada to their smelters. Which, as you can imagine, is very expensive and a little bit stupid? But the rock is what the rock is.

So the idea is to find a substance that will separate a pile of CuFeS and put those metals selectively into solution at a reasonable temperature without annihilating the material around it.

-=-

Pivoting to paper: The question I want to address is, I think, how the world's structure would change IF this problem were addressed.

So, logistics: How much material is shipped overseas currently? How much copper slurry is produced overseas and do they have their own smelters or go through the same process? Who profits from the smelters overseas?

Geopolitically, if each mine was able to leach and produce their own copper on site, what would that do to the global economy? Who does that benefit?

[woodportraits]

In 1919, all along the Western Front, French authorities were taking stock of the devastation of World War I. From the border with Belgium at Lille to the border with Switzerland near Strasbourg, this most brutal of wars had torn a rupture through the land: It was ripped, cratered, pitted, charred by a billion artillery shells fired over four years. “Where there are no dead,” wrote Henri Barbusse, “the earth itself is corpselike.” A Frankenstein landscape, stitched and stapled together, which harbored in its flesh millions of tons of unexploded munitions and chemical weapons enough to kill an army, all over again. 

After a period of uncertainty, it was decided to plant a shroud of trees over the war zone—a living sarcophagus that might stabilize the soil and contain the terrors within for a generation or more. A forest of forgetfulness. Where the land was worst affected—soil stripped almost to the bedrock—they planted black pines, one of the only hardy species that could thrive there. So it remains today. They call it the Zone Rouge.

For a hundred years a forest grew up across the land, tall and dark and impenetrable, whose undergrowth curled and snarled into a thicket of bramble and blackthorn. In the Zone Rouge, however, there is a place where the trees never grew back: a clearing in the woods, where the oaks and hornbeams part to reveal a small round pool of what appears to be gray gravel, or tar, or ash. A swatch of ground where nothing will grow.

The secret to this sterile wound lies also in the decisions made after the war. At armistice, millions of unused shells lay piled up, ready to be fired. It wasn’t clear what should be done with these surplus weapons of mass destruction. At Verdun, the decision was made to recover what ammunition they could at the military camps, but to gather chemical weapons—200,000 of them—at a farm near Gremilly. Here was mustered an array of the most unpleasant hexes one man can cast upon another: mustard gas, tear gas, phosgene—whose pleasant odor of freshly mown hay belies its deadly consequences—the sneezing gas diphenyl-chloroarsine, the garlic‑scented vomiting agent diphenylcyano-arsine. Then, finally, in 1928, they dug trenches as if for a mass grave, piled in the canisters, and set them ablaze. Hence the name: la Place à Gaz, the Place of Gas. 

Many of the so-called heavy metals—in this case used as kind of a catch-all term for cobalt, copper, iron, nickel, zinc, and others—are essential to the fundamental processes of life, but in quantity they become toxic. When plants come into contact with metal‑tainted soil, strange things can happen.

[...]

Those plants that grow as a wan halo around the poison ashes of la Place à Gaz: It was those I was here to see. On first sight, they seemed disarmingly familiar: the haze of what is called tufted grass and the Americans call “velvet” grass for its peach-fuzz leaves—common to marshland, verges, neglected waste ground—and, hidden beneath, like an underfur, the powdered goblet lichen Cladonia fimbriata. Neither are exotic species. But plants like these are specially adapted to survive in what would be otherwise be a dangerous environment. They limit their intake of the metals, preventing a build‑up to toxic levels in their bodies.

Their neighbor, though, a soft and feathery moss known as Pohlia nutans (“nodding thread moss,” after their tiny, many-headed fronds), uses a more complex strategy: Rather than close itself off to the metals in the soil, it throws open the doors, transporting metal salts upward into its limbs and stashing them away. Magpie plants of this kind are known as “hyperaccumulators,” and it’s not totally understood why they do this.

[...]

Though metallophyte species like these have evolved naturally, finding toeholds in outcrops of metal ores and at sites like the Tantramar “copper swamp” of Canada’s New Brunswick, they are now much more likely to be found in human-impacted ones. Mine tailings, spoil heaps, slag tips, postindustrial sites of many kinds—and postconflict ones too, like la Place à Gaz. There has been an exponential growth in land despoiled by heavy metals over recent decades. Globally, more than five million such contaminated sites have been reported; more than 300,000 square miles of contaminated soil in China alone.

[...]

Because of their strange and beguiling qualities, metal hyperaccumulators—of which there are known to be around 500—are of enormous scientific interest. Thanks to their thirst for otherwise toxic materials, they have great potential as tools in the recovery of highly polluted sites. By sucking heavy metals from the earth and hoarding or redistributing them, they might prepare the ground for other, more sensitive organisms. In this way, nature begins to heal over her scars.

A field of study, phytoremediation, has grown up around hyperaccumulating plants. It seeks to harness their surreal kind of superpowers for the greater good. Other species include the brake fern, which removes arsenic from the soil and stores it in its fronds (and is being tested as a natural filter for contaminated water in Bangladesh, following a decades-long arsenic-poisoning crisis), and sunflowers, which accumulate a wide range of heavy metals and are grown on sites of former mines and smelters in Australia. It’s a slow process; the plants must grow and then be harvested—and their bodies, now containing high concentrations of the heavy metals, disposed of carefully—but it can be faster and certainly less environmentally damaging than current clean-up methods: excavation and reburial under a concrete cap.

----

Source: Plants, Heavy Metals, and the Lingering Scars of World War I 

[autodiscothings]

Hello! I am quite new to your page and I love how you draw Kolyat. ♥️ Also, would you care to share some details about your characters?

I’d love to, thanks for asking! Funnily enough, I did a personality quiz for them recently, so I can just copy/paste the results here. Most of my content for Mass Effect is centred around Kolyat Krios and Oriana Lawson: 

I write them here: [AO3] I draw them here: [ART TAG]

Everything I do with them is post-war, and them as adults in their 20s navigating the shit heap that is a broken, post-destroy galaxy, and how they cope with their own traumas. They both want to help rebuild, but do it different ways.

KOLYAT KRIOS

Kolyat Krios has a lot to live up to and change, but prefers to do it on his terms.

Kolyat is a methodical man, and gentle and patient with the people who need it most. He possesses an unexpected depth of emotional intelligence, and becomes a protector of the small and the strays, from a galaxy that often forgets about them.

While Kolyat can be even-keeled, if he is left to stew in his feelings, his anger will get the better of him, and he will react. He has a reputation for salt, and for his surliness; he also has a tendency to hide himself from others as a defence mechanism, and is slow to trust.

ORIANA ‘ORI’ LEE

You might know her as Oriana Lawson, but she’ll introduce herself as Ori Lee.

Ori is a warm, compassionate soul who loves to be around other people and enjoys her work as a colony developer/civil engineer for Kellam Industries. She is quick-witted and smart, and funny with it; her taste in fashion and makeup is impeccable, as is her comic timing.

She is very good at getting to know you, but you don’t get to know her. Ori keeps her cards to her chest, and only lets her guard down around people she trusts completely, and has a tendency to care too much about what others think about her.

FISH (the cat)

Queen of everything, ruler of them all- well, maybe just Kolyat’s apartment for now.

Fish is a foul-tempered gremlin of a tabby cat, with white socks and a white belly. Her iron paw rules the roost of her home; she graciously lets others share it. Fish loves her food, her nap spots, and her soft piles of things to sleep on. She likes listening to music, and watching the traffic outside of her window.

She is a former stray with both PTSD and trust issues, and for this reason she lashes out without thinking, and needs her own space. When she trusts though, she really trusts. It will take her forever to do it, but once you win her heart, she’ll love you forever.

BATESEDA ‘Bats’ T’LORI

The man, the myth, and the almost legend- at least, in his mind.

Bats was always told he had potential, and rather than stay with the Huntress squad who trained him, Bats left for the Citadel. He is a firecracker of a man who makes everything he does seem fun, always ready to crack something- a joke, his glass, a skull. Pour another one out, he has stories to tell, and they’re mostly true- if he remembers them right.

He has a tendency to go through frequent bed partners, and never keeps anyone around for long. Despite the crooked smile and easy living, there is an air of melancholy around Bats he is reluctant to explain, but something shows through the cracks every now and then. He will take things too far -the jokes, his drinking, his anger- and fall down the holes he put himself in. One day he will struggle to get back out of it.

ARJUN PATEL

A man who borders the line between squad dad and gross uncle, Patel is a treasure for any crew to have.

Patel is content to stay in the background, and is more savvy than he lets on, willing to play the bumbling, easy-going fool if it’ll get him what he wants. He is essentially Columbo with a cooking habit, but is willing to share his snacks- if he likes you, and that doesn’t take much. He is a man with quiet passions, and they shine brightly when he gets talking; his food, his wife and daughter, his interest in history… ask him about them, and his enthusiasm will be boundless- much like his appetite.

He has a tendency to be lazy, if he can get away with it. Patel can also overspill the TMI details of his life even if you’ve heard them before, without a clue he’s crossed a line.

SISO VITACUS

Like most of the squad, Vitacus came to the Citadel for a new life, and another shot of something. He recently split from his bootcamp boyfriend, and is really not looking for anything serious- at least, not at the moment. Vitacus is neither as funny as Bats, as serious as Kolyat or as happy as Patel, but he fits right in as the jack of all trades of the squad, content to play everyone’s middle man and all rounder.

He has a reputation for awful, neon suits, a love of dancing and shitty action movies, as well as a fondness for lurid drinks, despite looking like the kind of man who likes none of these things from first glance. Vitacus is a tall, stocky bruiser of a man, even for a turian.

Vitacus can also be a pushover and too laidback for his own good, and can drift along with the crowd than go against it. He’s unsure why he’s like this, but as far as he’s concerned, ending up in law enforcement is already an oddity- all his family are engineers and scientists.

BRATHAN ‘Brath’ SEKET

If ever there was a man you were unsure of -even after knowing him for years- it’s Brath. The usual rags to riches story, heavy on the rags; Brath fled the grasp of his abusive family as soon as he was able to, taking on jobs across the Terminus until he built up enough of a reputation as a gun for hire.

He got his money from less than savoury sources to begin with, but absolutely no slavery. He has a personal honor code he will hold the rest of the galaxy to, even if you don’t know the rules. Brath might give off the appearance of loving luxuries and living well, but to him it’s just greasepaint and stage costumes; he’s learning that on the Citadel, a Terminus boy like him will never fit in, anyway- the four eyes see to that.

He will hold a grudge for decades, and it will smoulder, too. Brath can be incredibly petty and keep receipts, and if things don’t go his way, he will make them- for better or for worse.

LAETITIA PHALIA

A woman with a firm grip of the ins and outs of both her work and her neighbourhood, Phalia is the person to know when you need something, and if you don’t she’ll soon tell you, anyway.

She looks strict, but only when she needs to be. Phalia is just busy! There’s always some charity, pot luck, clawball practise, afterschool homework club, Galactic Scout cookie drive, donation pickup and volunteer work activity happening in her life. Phalia is always doing something, despite a full-time job and being a single parent. She gives and gives, because that’s what she expects people to do, the kind of person who will give you her coat and freeze.

There is only so much of herself she can give away. Phalia has had the very worst happen to her in her life, and she survives by constantly moving, not looking back. She just needs to remind herself from time to time she deserves to be taken care of too, and can rest every now and then. Sometimes Phalia also has a tendency to hold people to the same standards she has, but is getting better at learning the difference.

DEREK

It's Derek, innit? Just Derek. Not his real name of course, but he thought it sounded fancy. He has a full salarian name, but his clan mostly ignore his existence - except when they want money.

The eponymous Derek has a fairly sweet soul, but it’s one slowly corrupting under a mantle of the music industry and celebrity. He has an addict’s personality, and bounces from fixation from fixation- but music will always remain a constant. He is good at what he does too; his production skills are perceptively complicated, and he is an absolute master at looping and finding rich, interesting samples; there is a reason he is in demand both as a DJ and as a producer.

Derek doesn’t have the best social skills, despite befriending people easily. He’ll pick them up and drop them, and will often self-medicate his mistakes. His ego can get him into trouble too, but finding real friends -and not hangers on- will help him realise he’s not the centre of the universe.

***

(The quiz is [HERE] f you want to see which one you got.)

[carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory]

A Little Harbinger of Spring…

by Bob Androw

As I begin to write this, it’s early March, the sun is shining, the temperature outside is climbing over 50°F and I’m starting to think… “I need to go look for some deer poop!”

As an entomologist, I’ve developed a mental calendar not based on seasons or months… but rather on what species of insects are likely to be out and about on any given day of the year. Once summer arrives, the specificity disappears and it just becomes a question of whether it’s a “good bug day” or not – based entirely on the weather and my chances of prying myself out of the museum (or the house, in these new times) to go somewhere and chase them.

During autumn, the onset of wet weather and cooling temperatures gradually reduces the number of active insects. Like most organisms, I tend to head for shelter from the outside environment, settling indoors to wait out the winter. Of course, winter is time for “bug work” as well – but rather than hunting living specimens, time is dedicated to catching up on the lab work set aside during ‘collecting’ season. This entails pinning and labeling specimens collected earlier in the year, performing identifications, data-basing specimen records, and working on manuscripts.

But then there’s spring – that pivotal period that influences one to keep checking the weather forecast, hoping for warming days. This seemingly never-arriving season focuses one’s attention on how fast the last snow is melting off. It’s a time that has me searching for signs of plant shoots breaking the soil surface and tree buds exhibiting tiny slivers of green to announce the upcoming burst of foliage.

Hardwood forest habitat in late winter at Powdermill Nature Reserve in the Laurel Highlands of Pennsylvania. Image courtesy of the Powdermill Nature Reserve Facebook page.

Once these signs converge to indicate spring is just around the corner – it’s time to test the theory that winter is finally ending by – you got it! – going to look for deer poop!

Now, don’t get me wrong – deer regularly poop all year round – which is good for them – but during the first warm days of spring – or more accurately the warmest days of late winter – a little beetle becomes active and begins its own search for deer dung.

A typical pile of deer dung. The pellet in the lower left corner shows a hole created by a feeding beetle.

The species Dialytellus tragicus (Schmidt, 1916) is a mere 3mm in length and one of only two species in the genus Dialytellus. My favorite location to search for it is the museum’s field research station, Powdermill Nature Reserve, in the Laurel Highlands. Dialytellus tragicus is found in forested areas of the northeastern United States, but is sporadic in distribution and never seems to be overly common. The other species in the genus, Dialytellus dialytoides (Fall, 1907), is more widely distributed in the eastern states, much more common, and is taken frequently in pitfall traps. The genus Dialytellus is a member of the large subfamily Aphodiinae in the large family Scarabaeidae, the scarab beetles.

The Aphodiinae is a diverse group of small to tiny beetles, with over 400 species occurring in the United States and Canada. Nearly all of them are specialists on animal dung for feeding as adults and for provisioning their larvae with food. Many are considered ‘generalists’ which means they will utilize whatever dung they find – from cattle, horses, deer, pigs, dogs, and even humans (Oh, there are some stories to tell there…). Some species dig tunnels in the soil under dung and create brood chambers where they lay eggs on dung brought down from the source on the ground surface, but most lay eggs directly in the dung and the larvae develop within.

A fair number of aphodiine species are ‘specialists’, utilizing dung from only certain species of animals. In the Great Plains region of the U.S., the group reaches its greatest diversity of species for North America, with most species being obligate associates with prairie dogs, living in the burrows and feeding in the dung ‘middens’ that the resident prairie dogs create. In the Pacific Northwest, aphodiines are often associated with the burrows of marmots. In the Southeast, many species are associated only with pocket gophers, while a few have evolved to live only in the nests of squirrels, or packrats, feeding on decaying nest materials. Some of these specialized beetles have even evolved to live in ant nests, feeding on plant detritus in the ants’ garbage heaps.

Dialytellus tragicus (Schmidt, 1916). Specimen data: PENNSYLVANIA: Westmoreland County, Powdermill Nature Reserve, 15 March 2003, in deer dung, R. Androw, coll. Image from BugGuide.net, courtesy of Blaine Mathison, Salt Lake City, Utah.

Dialytellus tragicus is able to pull me out of the house and into the woods in late winter on an annual search first for piles of deer dung, and then if lucky, beetles. The beetles can be found inside the deer dung pellet, which means the search entails splitting dung pellets to find the precious one with a beetle inside. Thankfully, deer dung is dry and hard and has little odor, so the process is less offensive than it sounds. Still, I would guess that laying on one’s side in the leaves, splitting pellets with a forceps as if they were little coconuts with prizes inside, isn’t a common way to celebrate the onset of Spring – no Facebook group for us folks!

Most specimens that I have collected have been found during the middle two weeks of March, always on days where the temperatures have been over 50°F for at least the preceding three days. It takes a few days of warmer weather to get the beetles up and moving. I’ve learned that searching for them later in the year – say mid-April – never produces specimens of D. tragicus, but instead produces numerous specimens of another aphodiine, the extremely abundant generalist, Oscarinus rusicola (Melsheimer, 1845). Circumstantial evidence would suggest that as D. tragicus evolved alongside O. rusicola in eastern forests of North America it shifted its period of activity to earlier in the season to avoid competition for resources with the more abundant O. rusicola.

By the end of February of any normal year, the urge to get out of the house and into the woods starts to become irresistible, but the insects are more patient – waiting for the perfect number of degree-days to become active. Knowing this little beetle is out there early – and is not necessarily easy to find – provides the perfect impetus to shake off the winter dust and go out to look for it. In a year like the one we’ve all suffered through, this little beetle is even more appreciated as an excuse to rouse and get moving again.

Bob Androw is a Collection Manager for Invertebrate Zoology. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

[darkpoisonouslove]

The Decay of Secrets

Summary: Faragonda’s quest of uncovering secrets leads her to depths she never imagined she could be forced to face over a past that’s dead and buried. Pirate AU.

CW: body horror, gore, mentions of death and murder, graphic depictions of violence, vomiting

Written for @writersmonth Day 5 - word: secret/setting: pirate AU

If you’re wondering what’s going on here, my skin is shedding after the worst sunburn in my entire life so you get this. If there’s anything that’s incorrect, just know that I had to limit the research I did for this because I was trying to stay sane (aka avoid the really graphic stuff).

Soundtrack: Everybody’s Scared by Parah Dice, Holy Molly

The sword trembled in her hand as the amethyst and obsidian crystals dug deep into the soles of her boots. Some of them pierced right through to draw blood that mixed with the trail her target had left behind, walking barefoot like it was no feat crossing the carpet of jagged edges. It was hard to see in the illumination of the candles that grew out of the stone niches like stalagmites.

The dim light curled around a kneeling figure at the end of the cave near a small lake. The shadows clung to the purple hair, dragging across the floor, like an aura, like they were tangled in the woman’s soul. She had yet to see Faragonda, her head bowed, spine bent as if it were broken. There was barely a trace of the fierce pirate captain–and merciless murderer–that she was. Almost enough to fool Faragonda with the quiet stoicism of the place and make her turn on her heel to leave.

“What do you want?” The tension in Griffin's body peaked, the strain in her muscles visible in their murky surroundings. Her hands dug in the ground like she didn’t spend most of her life at sea, like she needed to anchor herself in her own body.

“You can’t escape justice, Griffin.” Her crew was too fast in their raids to be caught but Griffin was alone now. Faragonda couldn't let her get away with all the bodies she’d left behind. Not after the way Griffin had broken Daphne’s body and forced Marion and Oritel to use a forbidden spell to separate her spirit from it just to keep their daughter alive.

“I’m actually looking for justice,” Griffin's voice pulled her in like a siren’s song. There was something so fatal in it that called to her to end this now and find rest for both of them. “You’ve come just on time to help.”

Faragonda shuffled over the cave’s dangerous floor. Griffin may not have turned to acknowledge her as a threat but she was fast like lightning. And if she failed to strike her gravely, the fall on the sharp crystals would finish the job. The terrain advantage was Griffin's but she didn’t take the opportunity.

It was the headstone that hit Faragonda in the chest as it sat in the middle of the cave with the same motionlessness Griffin had adopted. She was standing on a small grave. The source of her crimes. Each letter burned in Faragonda’s mind like the brand of her failure to stop Griffin. How was she supposed to look at Marion and Oritel and tell them she had put Griffin's pain over theirs? How was she to explain the poison in her own veins with no dead tissue in her chest?

Faragonda sheathed her sword, the sound echoing around them like a herald of doom. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Griffin chuckled but the tears were audible in her voice. “You have too much heart for your own good. You know that, don’t you?”

“I believe it’s the right thing to do,” Faragonda made it to the dried up soil beyond the crystals. If Griffin moved, she could find her own grave in the small cave enforcing proximity on them.

“So you understand I can’t let go?” Griffin looked at her with calm eyes. The calm before the storm in the shining suns her irises were.

“You’ll go down eventually.” Marion–and the rest of the Company of Light–wouldn't settle for Griffin's disregard for the law or any human decency. They would put her in the ground if they couldn't put her on trial. Faragonda was becoming the perpetrator of Griffin's death by refusing to bring her in while it was still an option. But Griffin would much rather lie in the grave herself than be unable to come back to it for the rest of her life.

“Sooner than you think.”

The shot echoed in the cave, the bullet ricocheting off the walls after the clean in-and-out through her shoulder. Her sword was drawn in the blink of an eye in Griffin's hand and aimed at Griffin's own chest. The clamor in Faragonda’s ears blocked out any hope of summoning her magic to stop this madness or heal herself.

“Sorry about that but you’ll live. I had to make sure you wouldn’t interfere as I knew you’d try.” Griffin looked back to the tiny grave. “Such a pure heart you were given the choice to have.”

Faragonda’s blood froze at the smile curling Griffin's lips. There was no soul in it, no humanity left. Just cold bitterness.

Pain exploded in her knees from their collision with the rough ground, the scent of blood overpowering the salt carrying from the lake. She could taste the bits of Griffin's heart on her lips, on her skin, sticking to her body except for where her life was still oozing out of her wailing wound but she pushed herself to her feet, her lungs burning and her vision swimming.

Maybe it was her scream that came first but there was just a burst of light–fire–in her eyes. Griffin cried out before metal clunked against the cave floor. The sword had fallen from her hand, blasted out by a huge explosion that left her clutching the wounded limb to her chest. Smoke was rising from where her hair had been singed.

“You really are the cruelest monster of all,” a male voice and its echo boomed around them making Griffin crouch, her forehead pressed against the ground. “You took yourself from me once already and now you’re trying to avoid my revenge by taking your own life?” His steps crushed Faragonda’s heart over and over again as he hovered over the razor-sharp crystals, nothing slowing him down on his quest for Griffin's head. “That’s low even for you.”

Faragonda gritted her teeth to hold her magic between them. She had to find a quiet moment on a school break or a wild sleepover to revive her positive emotions and her powers.

Her body protested as she stumbled, forcing it in the way of the threat with barely sparks of magic at her fingertips and a torturously slow improvement in her shoulder. Her shot arm was still hanging limply at her side and the other was free to press against the wound in the absence of a weapon to use in defense. “Stay back, Valtor.”

“You’re bleeding brains from that betrayal in your shoulder, Faragonda.” He raised his hand, the cold of the cave retreating from his magical flames. “Move if you’d like to keep the rest of yourself at least.”

Faragonda stared him down before stepping away to direct his gaze to the headstone.

The flames flickered out, his hand shaking as the vile grin crumbled from his face. “What is this?” he roared, his own body trembling harder than the walls that barely resisted a cave-in. “What lie have you strung together now, Griffin?”

Griffin was shaking, too, all the cold in the tense atmosphere piling up on her back to wrack her body with shivers. Her stifled sobs were louder than a waterfall and pulled Valtor’s trigger.

Faragonda halted his murderous march. “Does she look like someone who’d create such a deception?”

Valtor spun around, the grimace on his face shoving her back down on her knees in a heap of pain. His face was in hers, the heat from his skin burning her breath out of her lungs. The scorching air around him cauterized her wound to leave her grunting behind her bitten tongue. He could cremate her on the spot but he wasn’t after her. “You’re telling me,” he materialized next to Griffin and grabbed a fistful of her hair shoving her face into the stone, into the words “beloved daughter” and the date of birth and death, “this is the truth?” he yelled under the sound of Griffin's nose smashing into the cold headstone. His hand wrapped around her throat when he pulled her to her feet by the hair. “You did this! That’s why you used the spell for aging up. You wanted to get rid of my daughter as soon as possible instead of carry her in your womb.”

Faragonda gaped at them. There was a lot more powerful magic at play than what she’d thought Griffin's hidden treasure would turn out to be. They could do unspeakable things to the world after what they’d done to each other. She had to press a hand in her mouth to subdue the bile rising at her own weakness.

Griffin blinked back tears, blood running from her bruising nose and into her mouth when she spoke. “I was afraid your mothers would find her.”

Faragonda’s heart clenched inside her chest as if trying to curl up in the fetal position. Tears fell from her eyes and soaked into the cracked ground for the unfortunate baby that had been doomed from the very start. It was only recently that Griffin had surpassed the Ancestrals when it came to plundering and they still ruled the seas with terror.

“I wanted to hide her from them. But instead, they killed my mother and the baby died a couple hours after her birth,” she choked, on her own tongue.

Valtor let go of her and she slumped on the floor, a hiss of pain escaping her. “You should have told me! How could you not tell me, you fucking bitch?” His leg twitched as if he was straining against kicking her.

Griffin held his gaze despite the unequal ground they were standing on. “Is this genuine outrage or is it just your possessiveness?” she bared her teeth. “Was she yours to kill, too? Like I am?” Her eyes were full of venom, wafting through the air all the way to where Faragonda was sinking further into madness she hadn’t expected.

“She’s dead now, Griffin!” Valtor yelled, flinching the same as Griffin. “We all are.”

“I didn’t know...” Griffin coughed, snot blocking her nose. “I couldn't be sure how much I could trust you against them.”

Valtor collapsed next to her. “You should have told me,” he punched the ground and his magic fissured it. The cave shook again but refused to fall on them and bury the horror they were threatening the world with.

“Please,” Griffin whimpered, fingers digging in the soil again. Her nails cracked to let streams of blood color her fingertips and the black ground red before her hands sank deep in with help from her magic.

The sword Valtor pulled out of the sheath on his hip was what snapped them out of their joined trance. “How would you forgive that, Griffin?” His eyes were cast downward like the weapon in his hand. If Griffin couldn't get his attention, Faragonda didn’t stand a chance. But she had to try despite barely being able to crawl with all the dread stuffed down her throat and in her veins.

Griffin was faster. “Please... kill me.”

Valtor’s sword was slipping from his fingers, his eyes wide like suns as he looked at Griffin to wrap his mind around her. It was her who took his hand and pointed the blade at her chest. Faragonda didn’t even have enough strength to crash into them and break them apart before life could be lost.

“Kill me. I was hoping Faragonda would,” she looked at her, her clear eyes piercing through Faragonda like the shards of a broken message bottle. There was no clouded judgment in the gold, only a self-centered agenda. “But now that you’re here, I won’t have to do it myself, after all.” Griffin pressed the tip of the sword against her chest. “Right here in my heart. Slice it open,” she let go of Valtor’s hand that was steady, whether out of concern or the lack of it. “Trust me.”

A shadow swallowed Valtor’s face. “I should kill you just for asking that of me after everything.”

Faragonda geared up to pounce.

“Then do-”

He shoved the blade through Griffin's chest forcing a gasp out of both women.

Griffin keeled over, her weight falling on her arms with her palms still buried in the ground. “Possessive beast,” she gurgled, red painting the words as blood dripped from her mouth and the flood from the clean slice of her heart soaking her clothes.

Faragonda wasn’t fast enough to even cover her eyes before Griffin's fingers left the soil and pushed a small bundle of necrotic tissue into the cut. The baby’s heart. She’d put it inside her own body, inside her own heart after it had rotted slowly in the ground for years under a spell. Like an anti flower in the darkness of the cave. That was what had sucked the ground dry despite the nearby lake.

Faragonda bent over and vomited, her retching barely reaching her own ears over Griffin's screams as her body ruptured and shattered. Valtor barely missed Faragonda’s head when he tossed the sword to the side to catch Griffin.

Wiping away her mouth, Faragonda pushed her hand on the nearest crystal. The pain reverberated through her to remind her of her own strength. Whatever sin Griffin had turned into, she could face it. She had to to make sure no one else would.

Looking overcame her with a new wave of nausea. Griffin was no longer a woman but a living corpse. Large portions of her luscious hair had fallen out to reveal a scalp covered in bite marks and  blisters. At least in the places where her skin wasn’t stretched so thin that the skull was visible right underneath. Her fingertips had been bitten off and the rest of her skin was rotting right on the bones. There were holes in her body through which her organs could be seen floating inside like dead fish in an aquarium. Seaweeds and shells were lodged painfully under her skin and in her joints. There was nothing left in her body that was good for life, yet she was still moving as if her parts were controlled by someone else’s mind.

Faragonda’s voice was gone. If she ever spoke again, she would be the one bringing that horror into the outside world. Griffin's secret loot had turned out beyond her worst nightmares and she had only herself to blame. She’d refused to see the grand scheme connecting all the stolen spells and magic instructions and now she was witnessing it bearing fruit.

“I knew you were lying,” Valtor rasped, clutching Griffin desperately to his chest. His nails dug in her inhuman flesh but no blood spilled from the colorless mass of cells. “You fucking liar.” He’d break her if she bowed to the laws of physics.

“I am not dead.” Griffin's voice ripped tears out, both from Valtor and Faragonda. It was hoarse from the screams of her soul echoing in it and chilling everything to the bone.

Faragonda’s teeth chattered as she huddled in on herself. She was only alive thanks to Valtor’s body heat drifting through the cave.

“You’re not alive either.” He ran a finger over the parts of Griffin's lips that hadn’t been bitten off. It was so intimate it punched Faragonda in the gut. If they could still feel, what would it take for her to stop sympathizing with the abomination of nature and magic they’d become? “What are you?”

“You can’t tell?” The softest touch of her bony fingertip clawed a wound in his cheek like she’d forgotten how to be around life. It cried blood that Griffin pushed herself up to lick off, the crimson flashing through her gray hair for a moment before it ran out of steam and was lost in the graveyard of her body. “I am a goddess.” Red swirled in her eyes as she tore off her own shedding skin. “I can do anything I want.” She turned to the grave behind them, her body stiffening as if death finally caught up with it. “Except bring our daughter back.”

“You’ll never be yourself again either.” Valtor’s body moved of its own accord. It would just drop her and walk out but he regained control and pushed himself back down to the ground.

“I am not weak now.” Griffin reached inside her chest wound and pinched her sliced heart closed around the little heart inside it. She broke off her own fingers and stuck them in the tissue to hold it together like overly large needles since it wouldn't heal. It was dead. But she wasn’t.

Her bones regrew back, contrary to all logic, and her body twisted as if the new matter was squeezed out of it. She felt all the pain of the living decaying corpse she’d become but she hadn’t cried out once. She was a monster.

“You were the most human person I knew,” Valtor stroked her gray hair like he wasn’t afraid of it swallowing the rest of his life, too.

“Now I’m strong enough to defeat your mothers.” A tear fell from her eye – white like milk. “They killed my mother. They killed our daughter because I couldn't stop them. It’s all my fault.” Her voice died in her hollow throat.

“You should have told me,” Valtor crushed whatever was left of her stomach in his fist and Faragonda made a break for the lake. She would rather drown herself than be stuck with the two of them any longer. “But you kept your damn secret... like we always do.”

Griffin cupped his cheek, her flesh not eating through his to Faragonda’s and Valtor’s surprise. “No more secrets. The world will know its goddess and the treasure it lost.”

The ground shook, water erupting from the lake like a geyser and flooding everything. The salt stung Faragonda’s eyes but it was the smell of death that had poisoned it that made her lose her footing. A ship burst through the bed of the lake that was far too small for it. It was Griffin's Cloud Tower that she’d summoned magically.

Seaweeds and barnacles adorned the decaying wood as if it had spent the last century underwater. The distinct spiderweb-patterned sails were ripped and fatigued. The crew was on deck, wet to the bone and missing one body part or another that had been present the last time Faragonda had seen them. If she indulged the worst case scenario, they were affected by their captain’s condition but there was no need for hasty-

Her heartbeat hit her as a shockwave from outside. The mermaid figurehead swam into her spinning vision and Faragonda gasped for air. Its chest was pried open and inside was a charred heart that was beating with her pulse.

Griffin met her gaze head on like she’d been waiting for it. “Only my blood wouldn't work once I’d  completed my transformation.” The crystals. They’d poked through both their feet and their blood had mixed into the ground underneath them. Griffin must have enchanted it beforehand to make the magic flow straight from the cave floor into the ship. She’d planned it all beforehand. “I am no longer the girl you knew.”

But the frightening thing was that she was still the same girl that had broken all the rules and offered no respect to the limitations imposed on her from others and from her mortal form. And Faragonda would have to explain to Marion and Oritel why she’d put a long-lost childhood friend over the rest of the world, why she’d kept a secret as big as the one Griffin had buried in the cave. She’d have to explain why she and Griffin shared the same weakness that would bring down the whole world.

“You’ll leave me behind again,” Valtor’s voice trembled from the rage spilling in it and Griffin’s arm under his palm caught fire but neither of them moved, tangled in each other like they were life and death.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Griffin pushed her hand into the flames as well and covered his to snuff them out with no effort. “But without death, there is nothing to leave behind,” she grinned and Valtor pulled her closer with just as much fervor as she was holding him with as they kissed.

How could Faragonda rob them of something so desperate and deprived?

[yugoloths]

the dungeon crawl I was supposed to run tonight got delayed for another week so I'm dumping all my content here to cope

this is the first level of the abandoned mine the party will be exploring. detailed walkthrough under the cut

DRUMIAN SHALE

The main takeaway from this stage is the bandits the party is hoping to apprehend are not here… but something else is. By the end, they will have made it down to the flooded lower caverns where the cool shit is. 

Area 1: Base Camp

The clearing outside the mine entrance is carpeted in yellow dust, a thin layer of which clings to every available surface. To the right of the entrance, on the east side of the clearing, stands a long-abandoned box sluice littered with old buckets and mining pans. On the opposite side of the clearing lie several ragged canvases half-buried in sand and a cluster of overturned mine carts in various states of disrepair. A set of narrow metal tracks, the same width as the mine carts, leads into what appears to be a natural cave mouth.

Closer inspection of the scene will reveal a dried-up streambed where water once poured into the sluice from above. The canvases on the western side of the clearing are crudely painted with an emblem shaped like a hand with a horizontally elongated plus sign in the center of the palm. They look to have been part of a collapsed tent, but it seems to have been abandoned for several weeks.

Area 2: Tunnel

A 10 foot wide tunnel stretches into darkness. 5 foot wide doorways are located on either side, each pair spaced 20 feet apart. The rail tracks continue along the floor in a straight line. The hall is dark and cramped, the ceiling is low, and the air smells musty. 

PP >14 will notice they don’t see any signs of animal inhabitants.

Area 3: Dormitory A

This room contains twelve narrow beds with bare straw mattresses. A few have crumpled bedding, as if in use, but everything is covered in a fine layer of dust. 

A DC 12 investigation check reveals a chest hidden under one of the beds. The chest is empty except for a dragonchess set and a few old stains.

A PC with proficiency in dragonchess (or who makes a DC 15 history check) will notice that the set is missing several pieces: three black warriors, a white mage, a white thief, and a white elemental.

Area 4: Old Office

This room appears to have been a record keeping office. A table stands in the center of the room, a desk in the corner, and bookshelves line the walls. A few chairs have been overturned, and papers are scattered across the desk. The same hand-and-plus-sign symbol from the tents has been carved into a corner of the table.

Any further investigation will reveal that the following books and papers are still in readable condition:

Old shipping manifests - Prices & shipments of rations, supplies, etc. If Varna or one of the PCs read this, they should be able to ascertain that the mine was just barely turning a profit at the time of its closure. They would also notice that they seemed to spend a lot of money bringing in barrels of fresh water.

Mine blueprints - Similar to Varna’s map. Shows the current level as well as two lower levels starting about 200 feet down. It appears miners used a lift at the northern end of the mine to navigate between levels. The lift was powered by a water wheel located in the far northeast chamber on the current level.

Geological survey - General measurements of soil composition and stability, rate of erosion, and location of ore veins. The writing style is extremely dry and technical, so PCs will need to either succeed on a DC 14 investigation or insight check or get Varna to read it in order to learn the following details:

-the water at the site was not drinkable, hence the need to import fresh water

-researchers had great difficulty measuring the water table; some days their instruments suggested it was very high, while other days they registered nothing at all

Varna will not notice this on her own, but a PC who lands a really fucking good investigation/insight check might be able to do a little off the cuff data analysis and notice that high water table measurements tended to occur in the mornings and evenings, while the low readings tended to occur in the afternoon or late at night. A character with extensive nautical knowledge and/or who lands a second really really good investigation/insight check might be able to make the low tide/high tide connection, but don’t force it.

Any investigation of the room reveals a heavy safe under the desk. It stands unlocked and empty, door ajar. Presumably this is where the deed to the mine was kept.

Area 5: Dormitory B

This room is nearly identical to Dormitory A, but several of the beds have been overturned and mattresses torn apart. The chest in this room has been dragged out from under the bed and opened with enough force to rip off one of the hinges. It is empty except for three silvers, four coppers, and an old sock.

A DC 10 investigation check reveals a set of two-toed footprints. With a good roll, or a separate investigation or survival check to learn more about the footprints, a PC could ascertain that the creature that made the footprints has a quadrupedal gait and seems to be some type of insect. 

A DC 12 investigation check reveals a small amount of blood spatter on several of the beds.

A DC 14  investigation check reveals a strange object wedged under one of the beds. It is a flute-like woodwind instrument with an unfamiliar bulbous shape. Varna will be unable to identify what material it’s made out of, although she may note that it reminds her of shell or coral (though not from any creature she’s encountered.) Any PC who attempts to play the instrument will be able coax a few hollow, resonant notes out of it. The instrument is uncomfortable to play, as if it were not designed for their hands.

If a PC attempts to play the instrument, anyone with PP>10 hears an echoing melody coming from the end of the hall. Anyone with PP>15 can identify it emanating from below, in the mine shaft.

Area 6: Storeroom

This room contains old supplies. A heap of frayed old sacks that must have once contained grain are heaped in the northwest corner. The northeast corner is home to a pile of old crates that takes up most of the room. The south wall is lined with wooden barrels, all but a few of which have been split open and destroyed.

Closer inspection of the scene reveals that some of the crates have fallen over and/or split open to reveal general mining equipment - pickaxes, machine parts, railway slats, etc. The crates seem ancient and relatively untouched, while the destroyed barrels are more recent.

A DC 12 investigation check on the room in general will turn up 100 feet of hempen rope, three lanterns with 10 hours of fuel each, an entire crate of candles, and 100 pitons. 

A DC 10 insight or investigation check on the barrels reveals that they likely held pickled vegetables and cured meats. 

Area 7: Dormitory C

This room is nearly identical to Dormitory A. There are no signs of a struggle.

A DC 12 investigation check (or a decision to look under the beds) reveals yet another chest stashed under the bed. It contains two bottles of Keoghtom’s Cure-All, one of which is cracked and useless. The label purports the product “miraculously relieves sewer plague, sight rot, and tunnel stutters! Archmage Keoghtom’s patented blend of penetrating oils, restorative herbs, and secret enchantments reduces pain, enhances vigor, and restores the user to full health, all in a single application!” When applied, it restores 2d8+2 HP. 

Area 8: Machine Room

This room is dominated by a water wheel about 10 feet in diameter, fixed along the north wall. A trough leads away from the water wheel to a large drain set into the floor by the southeast wall. A system of pulleys leads out of the room toward the mine shaft. The rail tracks fork just outside the doorway, with one fork leading into the room while the other continues straight. The wheel powered a lift that transported miners, slag, and equipment between levels, presumably fed by the same stream that fed the box sluice in area 1.

A DC 15 investigation check of the room (or a DC 10 investigation check on the drain specifically) reveals that the screws holding the drain cover down have been removed, and that the cover has been moved recently.

A DC 10 strength check (or whatever) allows them to move the drain cover, revealing an entrance to area 10.

Area 9: Mine Shaft

The mine shaft is a square, 10 foot by 10 foot pit that drops straight down into darkness. A rotting pulley system dangles from the stalactite-covered ceiling, but the rope has broken and the lift platform itself is nowhere to be seen. The walls of the pit are decorated with strange, insectile shapes that resemble no living creature. Go ahead and make a perception check.

The lower part of the shaft is filled with salt water. The water is too far down to be visible, but anything falling into the shaft will create an audible splash.

The mine shaft is inhabited by three darkmantles disguised as stalactites. As soon as someone pokes their head in, a darkmantle will drop down and try to engulf their face. The remaining darkmantles will use their Darkness Aura ability to create confusion before attacking. These darkmantles are unusual looking, with long cone-shaped shells covering their mantles, giving them the appearance of orthocerid cephalopods. If none of the PCs are dumb enough to stick their head into the shaft, Felix will be happy to oblige in order to get a closer look at the fossils.

About 50 feet down the shaft is a hidden entrance to area 10 containing two Chuul, the source of the mysterious flute echo from earlier (assuming one of the PCs tried to play the flute). Like the darkmantles, they are unusual, resembling anomalocarid arthropods. When the Chuul hear the PCs at the top of the mine shaft, they will attempt to ambush them through the drain in area 8. It takes the Chuul about one minute from when they detect the PCs to launch their ambush. If one of the Chuul is killed or seriously wounded, the other will attempt to flee to area 13 and escape into the tidepools.

A PC who makes a DC 12 perception check will note that the presence of stalactites is odd, as they have not seen any elsewhere in the mine. 

If the players found the flute in area 5, a DC 15 perception or investigation check reveals that some of the fossils embedded in the wall look similar to the instrument.

Because the Chuul are so unusual looking, PCs must succeed on a DC 17 history or nature check in order to identify them as such.

With a DC 18 perception check, PCs can see the faint movement of the Chuul 50 feet down the shaft and hear scuttling noises, although they cannot make out what is causing them.

Area 10: Secret Tunnel

The drain leads to a rough tunnel, about 5 feet wide. It is not indicated on Varna’s map or the blueprints in area 4. The construction is noticeably different from the rest of the mine, more like an animal burrow, and the floor slopes downward. The air is strangely humid.

If the PCs managed to access area 10 before being ambushed by the Chuul, they will instead be attacked at the entrance to area 11 or 13, whichever is convenient. If they killed both Chuul, they will encounter no enemies in area 10. If one of the Chuul escaped, the PCs will hear a faint flute melody emanating from the tunnel leading to area 13 but will not be attacked. 

A DC 10 investigation or perception check reveals more of the two-toed footprints found in area 5 - they should be able to figure out these belong to the Chuul.

Area 11: Brood Chamber

This roughly circular chamber contains a clutch of slimy, yellow-green eggs surrounded by human and animal bones. It is guarded by an older Chuul which is missing a claw, making it unable to multiattack. This will not deter it, however, from defending the clutch with its life. Because it is protecting its eggs, it will not pursue the party should they choose to flee.

Closer investigation reveals a single human skull amidst the bones. A DC 12 nature or survival check reveals the other bones belong to a horse, several donkeys, and two large dogs.

Area 12: Treasure Chamber

This chamber is similar to area 11, but instead of eggs it is piled high with objects the Chuul have collected from their victims and from the abandoned mine.

Any investigation will reveal the following items:

-A small pile of gold nuggets worth ~200 GP

-A steel mirror

-Robe of Useful Items (missing all of its patches)

-A viol with the initials “MQ” carved into the back of the head

-A breastplate that has been messily painted blood red, with a symbol on the front consisting of a black hand with a horizontally elongated plus sign on the palm (same as the one carved into the table in area 4)

-Two hard hats with hooded lanterns mounted on the front

-A swordbreaker (stats identical to a dagger, but if the wielder is hit by a sword attack they can make a DC 8+[attacker’s weapon attack modifier] dexterity check; on a success, they take no damage and the opponent has disadvantage on their attack roll next turn; on a critical success, they take no damage and break the opponent’s sword) with a crude hand-and-plus-sign symbol carved into the hilt

-An intricately carved sending stone that, when used, plays the following intercept message: “We’re sorry. You have reached a sending stone that has been destroyed, or is no longer in service. Please contact an operator.”

-Three silver rings (worth 15 gp each)

The deed to the mine is not present.

Area 13: Cenote Chamber

This natural cavern has a high, arched ceiling decorated with stalactites. The space is dominated by an immense monolith carved with the same pattern of wavy lines as Felix’s tablet. Covering the bottom third of the slab, a reeking carpet of matted vegetation extends to cover the entire floor. The wet stench of rotting plant matter and salt permeates the humid, clinging air. 

The vegetation at the base of the slab is actually a shambling mound, which is hiding the entrance to the next layer of dungeon with its body. It is dormant, but as soon as someone steps on or touches it it will come awake and attack the PCs, revealing the cenote pit beneath it. However, music from the strange flute the party discovered earlier will render it dormant again. Upon being defeated, it falls into the cenote with a splash. As it falls it pulls away some of the vegetation covering the bottom of the slab, revealing the full design.

A DC 14 perception check before the shambling mound attacks reveals the muffled sound and faint movements of breathing. After it is defeated, it becomes apparent that the “breathing” noise was actually the sound of water rushing rhythmically from within the dark cenote.

Varna encourages the party to explore the cenote in hopes of locating the remaining bandits (or their remains) and recovering the deed to the mines. Felix, excited by the symbols on the monolith, insists on accompanying them. Varna will remain to establish a base camp; she has not survived 200 years as a geological surveyor by diving headfirst into mysterious pits.

[spinbitchzu]

lazarus | harumi

The elevator descends with sickening stagnance. All around her, the bodies tremble and sweat, fear pouring off of them in waves. Harumi has stopped being afraid; her skin is glass and everything underneath is missing, leaving only the terrible hollowness. Her heart beats slow in her head and chest and fingers, until she can hardly hear the whirr of the elevator car over the dull thud that feels like a countdown.

The shaft shakes with the commotion outside, and everyone moans in terror as one. Harumi is pressed against the cold doors as the inhabitants of the elevator seem to expand as if there’s anywhere to escape to. The walls seem to shrink down and the cold of the metal leeches into her skin. Another child whimpers and begins to sob, hidden somewhere in the crush of people.

“Honey, listen to me. Listen to me, everything will be okay,” a voice comes, shaking but tender. Harumi feels sick to her stomach.

The soft chime of the bell announces their arrival on the first floor, and as the doors crack, Harumi is shoved forward as the crowd flees in panic, scattering like ants. The woman, whose arms her parents had shoved her in, momentarily hesitates, a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, kid, you need to get to safety!” she cries. The whites of her eyes are too big as her eyes roll like a spooked horse.

Harumi stays rooted in place, listening to the rumble in the distance that shakes her to her core. She’s completely paralyzed.

“My parents,” she manages to whisper, resisting the jostling. “They’re still in there.”

“Kid, they’re as good as dead, you need to leave with me,” the woman urges her, pulling more insistently.

Harumi shakes her head frantically, panic bubbling in her throat. “I need to wait for my parents!”

The woman stares at her for a moment, almost calculating, and then her head snaps up as she catches a glimpse of something over Harumi’s shoulder. She blanches, and when she looks back, any semblance of compassion in her eyes is replaced by the unflinching hunger of someone who’s survival hangs in the balance. The sword of Damocles whistles as it cuts through the air and the woman turns tail, leaving Harumi alone.

It’s a funny feeling, to be standing in the middle of the chaos as it erupts. Harumi turns, too slow, to see the source of the woman’s fear and watches in captivated horror as all hell breaches the earth. A colossal serpent explodes through the sky scrapers, sending debris in every direction, and blasts through the street, following a red blur. She stares at it, realizing it’s one of the ninja that protects the city.

Her heart lifts and her lips part to shout to him, shout that her parents need help, but he’s gone before the words come. Instead of rescue, she sees gleaming muscular coils constrict around her apartment building. The structure creaks and groans, cracks spiderwebbing up the stucco sides. Harumi’s breath catches.

And then the building just gives, shattering in every direction.

Plumes of dust billow into the air and all around her, the screaming swells, harmonizing in a dissonant chord with the wail of sirens and car alarms and something else. There’s a wild, almost animalistic shriek mixed in with the cacophony. It takes a moment before she connects it to the choked fire tearing up her throat, and she dimly realizes the scream is coming from her.

“Mom! Dad!” The words escape her in a wretched howl. Before she can even process, she’s kneeling in the wreckage, shards of glass digging into her knees. Her hands scrabble and scrape on the jagged edges as she digs through the pile, desperation coursing through her veins like rolling lava.

Unlike before, she’s no longer empty—rather the opposite. Every warring emotion seems to spill over the brim, every heightened sensation too overwhelming to process. She becomes aware of the hot tears spilling down her cheeks and tastes the salt mixing with acrid ash.

The sobs that escape her are huge and gulping as she furiously digs through the rubble. The yawning cavern that gapes in her chest feels like it’s swallowing her as her fists fall fruitlessly on the uncaring heap.

“Mommy!” she bawls, voice splintering. “Daddy, please come back! Please, where are you?”

Where are you?

She shoves what must have once been a table and keeps digging. Her fingers catch on a broken window pane and slick, hot blood courses down her palms.

I need you!

A fit of coughing descends upon her as dust motes float into the air. She blinks away the tears that mingle with the grime on her face and sniffles and keeps digging.

I don’t want to be alone...

The drywall she moves crumbles to reveal more rubble, endlessly heaped in every which way. But if she gives up, what will she have left? The all-consuming maw that threatens to finish her? Harumi grits her teeth, eyes stinging once more, and keeps digging. Every inch of her quivers with adrenaline and need.

I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE!

The thought explodes across her like a wildfire and she flies into a frenzy of digging. Everything kind of whites out for the next few moments. Harumi tastes metallic copper with the salt in her mouth, and as her breath turns ragged, her spittle is dyed scarlet. It seems like a loop where as much as she digs, she only finds more debris.

Then suddenly, she heaves a fallen door over and her whole world freezes over. Time trickles to a stop. Even her heart seems to pause in its hammering rhythm. Her hands stiffen over what she’s uncovered.

The flesh under hers is cold and clammy, and does not give. It’s strange, almost grey, as if it isn’t human at all, but Harumi knows with annihilating certainty that it is.

And—

And it hurts unimaginably so. More than she thought it ever would. Pain seems to physically press against her heart as she lets out a strangled gasp, desperate for the inflation of her lungs to alleviate the pressure.

Her gut clenches, and she throws herself to the left as the contents of her stomach make a violent reappearance. She can’t help but weep even when her stomach settles and all the tension leaks from her body as she collapses into what used to be her home. She doesn’t stir from her position, eyes locked on the very thing that caused her nausea: a pair of intertwined hands that once stroked her hair and pinched her cheeks. Their wedding bands, though veiled in a thin layer of dirt, shine dimly in the light.

Harumi thinks, in an oddly abstracted way, that this is what it feels like to die.

Is this what damnation is? To have every little bit of you that loves be extinguished in one fell swoop? And if she lives still, what is left over? What survives the loss of everything that matters?

In the background, the sounds of the city carry on. The car alarms continue to rise and fall in their endless cry. The people continue to shout in fear. Even that forsaken snake continues to tear through the city, trailing destruction. But in Harumi’s head, everything has become eerily quiet.

Her eyes crack open as she senses something change. She opens her eyes to complete darkness, with just one beacon of light. Harumi’s eyes lock onto the tiny dark figure at the top of the building, sparkling with the golden weapons he raises. The crushing weight on her chest lifts for the briefest moment as Lord Garmadon’s mouth twists in a wordless scream as he plummets off the building. It should inspire terror or concern or satisfaction or something, but instead—

Instead, her mouth knifes up into a ruined little smile. And slowly, softly, Harumi’s heart begins to beat again.

…

Harumi waits for the rescue she knows will come. Soaked in the slimy aftermath of the Great Devourer’s defeat from head to toe, she sits cross-legged on the pile and makes up a little song in her head to pass the time.

The paramedic who puts a blanket around her shoulders has a gentle voice despite the exhaustion she must be fighting. Her tone is light as she remarks:

“My, my. Aren’t you the quiet one!”

... In the wake of the battle, Harumi is shepherded from place to place like a lost lamb. First, it’s a shelter full of cold strangers and burned-out volunteers. Then they drop her in an orphanage where the linoleum floors smell of lemon cleaners and the children cry all night.

Finally, she’s being chauffeured into the royal palace, feeling small and out of place to meet the royal family. The king and queen smile beatifically at her, but their painted masks ruin the effect. She shivers and pulls away from them, with their moon-white faces and blood-red lips, grotesquely beautiful. The cloying luxury of the palace, untouched despite the battle, disturbs her.

“This is your new home, Harumi,” the queen tells her, tucking her into bed. “Try to leave the past behind, okay? You’re a princess now.”

“And you should call us mom and dad,” the king adds kindly. “Good night, Harumi.”

She studies the happiness on their porcelain faces with detached curiosity and then imitates it. Like a little doll, she parrots back, “Goodnight, Mom, goodnight, Dad.”

That night she dreams of the elevator, of the doors that slide shut and seal her fate. Then four pairs of ink-black hands appear in the gap just before they close and pry the doors back open. In the darkness, a pair of glowing violet eyes appear, along with a razor-sharp smile.

Do not fear. I will protect you, daughter.

Harumi wakes up with something to believe in.

[thcvapesmart1]

Wal-Mart Liable for Being overweight?

    Wal-Mart the big box retailer is now remaining accused of contributing to Being overweight, heart disorder and diabetic issues! So say the anti Wal-Mart advocates and it really is a shame that the retail big has to go on the defense the moment again to defend its business enterprise. When you have almost any questions relating to in which along with how to make use of Puff Bars for Sale, it is possible to email us on our own web site. I would not ordinarily protect Wal-Mart as I as well at times truly feel that the retail huge has a adverse influence on modest communities when it will come to opposition but to blame our nations problems with Being overweight on Wal-Mart is ridiculous. Let us commence with the posting that seems to have sparked the fires of a now expanding debate. A National Post (Tuesday, Jan. eighteen, 2011) headlined "Wal-Mart will make communities body fat." That Countrywide Publish story specifics a review by two economists that demonstrates when a new Wal-Mart opens in a community, the local community gains pounds. The Countrywide Write-up had this to say about the study, which was posted in the "Journal of Urban Economics": "A person new Wal-Mart supercentre for every a hundred,000 citizens meant an typical bodyweight acquire of 1.5 lbs . for every person sometime in excess of a ten-calendar year interval courting from the store's opening. It also boosted the weight problems price by 2.three proportion factors, that means that for each one hundred individuals, two who were not obese finished up in that category just after a superstore opened." My individual impression (that and a dime will purchase you a cup of espresso) is that there are more explanations for the investigate numbers becoming what they are than that of Wal-Mart offering lessen prices on the goods that men and women want and need to have. You can find really no very simple hyperlink in between Wal-Mart and fat. The extra lift in the figures may possibly be due to a total array of reasons, ranging from lower costs for food items to a change in buying habits due to influences in advertising and steeper rate drops on processed harmful food items that can be procured any where. If we want to start off pointing fingers let us glimpse at the numerous sources of restaurants and fast foodstuff franchises who push large part, fatty, substantial cholesterol, large sugar and just all all-around unhealthy foodstuff in the name of comfort and value. Our culture is overweight due to the fact we have develop into lazy and way too obsessed with simplicity and convenience. We want every thing now and at the cheapest possible cost. We line up at restaurant buffets to fork out our $15.00 to take in 37 distinct options until our belt buckles explode all the though building feedback about the unwanted fat persons who seem to be to be piling their plates high and likely back again five or six occasions for extra. Still we are unsuccessful to recognize that we can't see our toes for the midriff. Neighborhood layout problems are what I suspect participate in a significant function in this bodyweight gain difficulty. As with most huge box stores, Wal-Mart is geared toward men and women driving to the retail outlet in which decades back we drove into city and walked from retail store to retailer. Now times we are capable to generate to the lower price outlets (Wal-Mart, Costco, K-Mart, Concentrate on...Extended record) to acquire loads and hundreds of inexpensive stuff that can all be hauled away in the trunk of a motor vehicle. Several industry experts have stated that getting these styles of suppliers pop up in a local community can drive smaller mom-and-pop shops out of organization due to the fact they cannot contend on the identical scale - therefore foremost to significantly less walkable neighborhoods and much more driving. Hmmm, far more driving, it's possible we need to blame Wal-Mart for the air pollution or the greenhouse outcome. And most individuals would agree that if you try to eat low cost processed food whilst going for walks less and driving extra, you are probable to get fats. In any circumstance, the analyze seemed at Wal-Marts and the communities all-around them amongst 1996 and 2005. This also occurs to be a time body that we noticed a big leap in fast food stuff franchising such as franchises like Krispy Kreme, Fat Burgers, Panago Pizza, Papa John's Pizza (heaps of Pizza franchises). It just so occurs that Wal-Mart has just declared lately in an party attended by initially woman Michelle Obama, no much less - its ideas to "make hundreds of its packaged food items lower in unhealthy salts, fats and sugars, and to fall selling prices on fruits and greens." So maybe all this hoopla will have a constructive spin when it is all claimed and done.  

[rustingawayslowly]

Advantages of Composting for the Environment

Garden enthusiasts worldwide know that compost is an exceptional garden soil conditioner and additive which boosts the productiveness and also workability associated with almost any type of topsoil. Digging in aerobic garden compost into your existing garden soil, makes it richer and healthier helping plant life develop more quickly and more powerful which as a side effect will help our world in a wide range of simple ways from food production to irrigation.

This is exactly why Aerobic Garden compost is loved and cherished by garden enthusiasts all around the world because it has plenty of mineral deposits and nutrients which are suitable for promoting the healthy, rich and rapid development of plants.

The technique behind aerobic composting depends on the basic idea of return, which deals with the theory of whatever you put in can help determine what it is you go out. Composting yard garden waste products plus kitchen area leftovers is probably the most helpful and also the easiest action you can require to reduce waste and establish a good, sustainable garden.

Utilising compost within your back garden recycles minerals and vitamins and organic and natural matter which helps to grow hassle-free flowers or vegetables by using a lot less water, business fertilizers and even pesticides. Knowing what compost actually is in addition to how it can help your garden, will lead to high quality garden compost, even for those newbie gardeners, so following is a quick check list describing the specific seven components required to guarantee an efficient and healthy composting stack.

1. The Correct Kind Of Products - We're continuously being notified that for people to keep in good condition we need a well-balanced diet and exactly the very same holds true about the compost heap. All the ingredients that you add to your composting stack are its sources of food and energy.

Composting microbes make it through best on a mix of succulent yummy nitrogen abundant materials called "greens", such as fresh new lawn clippings, weeds, and also garden flora, along with woody carbon rich elements called "browns", like fall leaves, branches, straw or paper.

I would believe that you might have all discovered before that including simply food wastes from the cooking area in your garden compost is a great idea. While this does work, a good mixture of browns and greens is necessary for creating fast results. As a general guideline, you must load your aerobic composting stack, or composting bin with one part "Green" type products to around 30 parts of "Brown" type materials.

This ratio is necessary because an aerobic stack containing lots of browns will require a long time to decay, whilst a lot of greens will lead to a smelly algae kind of mess.

Remember, that too produce the best type of garden compost, all the products you add to the compost pile need to have these following characteristics. 1), they must be bio-degradable and 2), they ought to consist of products that are liked by the micro-organisms. Then this suggests that you really need to avoid the things they do not like such as different meats, bone pieces, fats and cooking oils as well as milk related items merely since they do not disintegrate successfully and typically make the compost heap smell bad. Also, consisting of meat associated items to an aerobic compost pile is a lot like offering an open welcome for rats and other such scavenging animals to feed on your compost heap.

2. Product Size - As with a lot of things in this life, size really does matter. Adding large branches, big leafy products and even whole food items on your compost heap is only going to decrease its rate of decomposition. All of the composting microorganisms, bugs and composting worms living in your compost only have little jaws so naturally they like smaller sized portions to chew on. Cutting bigger organic food products in to smaller sized bits, by using a saw, garden shredder or your mower will help break down the bigger items into smaller bite-sized portions.

Nearly all germs's and micro-organisms generally have a tough time finding their preferred foods contained within large woody type brown materials due to their hard outsides so shredding the materials you add helps them on their way. Because the compostable products are made much smaller sized, a lot more surface area and inner area will be exposed to the microbes which perform the job of decay.

If these products are separated and decreased in advance, it can help speed up the decomposition process since the smaller sized the pieces, the much faster they can decay. Nevertheless there is also a disadvantage in shredding woody materials to carefully.

These smaller sized particles will likely produce a more compacted aerobic compost pile reducing ventilation and air circulation inside the load which might in turn result in an anaerobic condition because of the insufficient oxygen therefore the stack may have to be handed over more regularly.

3. The Compost Tons Size - How huge your composting load is also makes a huge difference not simply to the speed of decay but for the last quality of the finished pile. Generally, a compost pile needs to be at most comparable to about one cubic metre (3 x 3 x 3 feet) in volume as this makes it easier to handle. Smaller sized aerobic piles have a tendency to dry easily therefore require regular watering, although commercially available composting bins which have strong sides plus a lid can help keep smaller stacks damp. Larger aerobic composting piles inhabit a lot additional area and will need to be shelled out to allow more air into their center.

Furthermore, forking over an aerobic compost heap regularly to move freshly included external products towards the stacks center, or perhaps to a different location or composting bin is much easier and much less effort when the real size of the compost heap is much more convenient.

4. Water Content - Another essential element with regards to fast aerobic composting is the appropriate quantity of water. Microbes reside in thin watery films which surround the elements within the compost heap so it helps to keep the compost heap damp at all times. If your stack ends up being dried out, the bacterial microbes are unable to work successfully so include some extra greens. Must the stack become too damp, the bacterial microorganisms are not able to receive the quantity of oxygen they want to breath so include some extra browns and hand over the pile to mix it in.

It is basic to discover if your compost pile contains the appropriate volume of water (40-60%), merely take hold of a little handful from the compostable material and after that squeeze it. If water permeates out through your fingers, then the pile has actually ended up being too damp. Ideally the garden compost needs to be a little damp, much like a moist fabric or sponge to be able to guarantee bacterial decay and development.

5. Aeration - the composting of products is certainly an aerobic process. In order to help develop premium garden compost quickly, a lot of fresh clean air is essential to let the microbes and bugs living and flourishing inside it breathe. Forking over your garden compost using a spade or pitchfork as soon as or even two times a week helps aerate the pile as well as putting the recently added fresher external materials into its middle and vice-versa.

The method of forking or turning and consisting of dry or coarse materials to the compost heap will help increase aeration, avoid odour-causing bacteria's from establishing and also help to speed up the aerobic composting procedure. This action of dishing out garden compost on a regular basis in order to help accelerate the piles decay process is known as "active composting". Just turning and forking the stack allows surplus water to leave and evaporate providing fresh tidy air to the pile at the same time.

6. Micro-organisms and Bugs - No aerobic composting stack worth its salt would not be complete without the presence of the microorganisms and bugs which do all the work. It is these tiny little air-breathing micro-organisms and their larger soil caring cousins which are found naturally within the soil structure that will flourish within the wet and nutrient-rich environments which you have developed.

The smaller sized decomposters for instance fungis and germs start the decay process whilst bigger sized bugs such as worms, beetles, millipedes and centipedes, finish the decomposition cycle. What's left behind is an almost black humus soil improving medium.

To be able to effectively develop and increase, all these macro and micro-organisms need an energy source like for instance the "browns", which provides them with a carbohydrate source and the "greens", which provides a protein rich source. In addition to these they also require oxygen and water to endure.

However much like humans, these bugs also like it warm and cosy, which indicates your compostable active ingredients will definitely be become a completed garden compost far more rapidly during the summer months when the sun's rays help warm things up compared to the chillier winter months.

7. Don't Hurry, Be Patient - Aerobic composting requires time. The speed or rate of composting trusts lots of aspects as we have seen, such as the wetness content, level of aeration, in addition to the carbon-to-nitrogen percentage, the real greens-to-browns ratio. Normally, aeration and humidity are typically the two key elements influencing the quantity of time needed to develop your completed compost.

But you can help Mother Nature on her way by regular forking and turning of your compost pile which will probably produce quality garden compost in about one or two months in the summertime whilst regular monthly turnings could develop compost from about 4 to 6 months in time. The fastest composting takes place when you have already pre-mixed the browns and greens materials, including some previous microbe abundant garden compost and turning or mixing up the stack weekly, in addition to managing the quantity of air and water. But if all that is simply excessive work, then sit back, relax and let the bugs do the work.

Aerobic compost is an excellent garden soil additive which increases the workability and performance of your garden soil. The right quantity and type of products you add into the compost pile really makes a big difference on the level of quality and the composting time period.

You ought to think of your aerobic compost heap as being like a self consisted of eco-system, and in order for it to develop and endure, this particular eco-system requires the right mixture of active ingredients and products such as "Oxygen" (the air), "Warmth" (the sun), "Food" (the compostable products), and "Moisture" (the water), with the resulting quality and amount of the ended up compost being figured out by simply how well you are able to manage and manage all of these 4 variables.

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[qnada7gd]

Benefits of Composting for the Environment

Garden enthusiasts around the world understand that compost is a superb garden soil conditioner and additive which boosts the productiveness and also workability connected with almost any sort of topsoil. Digging in aerobic compost into your existing garden soil, makes it richer and healthier helping plant life establish quicker and stronger which as a negative effects will help our planet in a wide array of basic ways from food production to irrigation.

This is exactly why Aerobic Compost is enjoyed and cherished by garden enthusiasts all around the world because it has plenty of mineral deposits and nutrients which appropriate for stimulating the healthy, lush and quick growth of plants.

The method behind aerobic composting depends on the basic idea of return, which works on the theory of whatever you put in can help determine what it is you go out. Composting yard garden waste products plus kitchen area leftovers is most likely the most helpful and also the most basic step you can require to reduce waste and establish a good, sustainable garden.

Making use of garden compost within your back garden recycles minerals and vitamins and organic and natural matter which helps to grow trouble-free flowers or vegetables by using a lot less water, business fertilizers and even pesticides. Knowing what garden compost really is along with how it can help your garden, will result in high quality garden compost, even for those newbie gardeners, so following is a quick check list outlining the particular seven elements needed to ensure an effective and healthy composting heap.

1. The Correct Kind Of Materials - We're constantly being informed that for people to keep in good condition we require a well-balanced diet and exactly the exact same holds true about the compost pile. All the components that you add to your composting pile are its sources of food and energy.

Composting microorganisms make it through best on a mix of succulent delicious nitrogen plentiful products called "greens", such as fresh new lawn clippings, weeds, and also garden plants, as well as woody carbon rich aspects called "browns", like autumn leaves, branches, straw or paper.

I would think that you may have all observed before that consisting of just food wastes from the kitchen area in your compost is a great idea. While this does work, a great mixture of browns and greens is necessary for developing fast outcomes. As a basic rule of thumb, you ought to pack your aerobic composting stack, or composting bin with one part "Green" type materials to around 30 parts of "Brown" type products.

This ratio is important due to the fact that an aerobic pile containing lots of browns will require a long time to decay, whilst a great deal of greens will result in a smelly algae type of mess.

Remember, that too produce the best kind of garden compost, all the products you add to the compost heap must have these following qualities. 1), they should be bio-degradable and 2), they should include products that are loved by the micro-organisms. Then this recommends that you really need to steer clear of the important things they do not like such as different meats, bone pieces, fats and cooking oils as well as milk related products simply due to the fact that they do not decompose efficiently and normally make the compost heap smell bad. Also, consisting of meat associated items to an aerobic compost heap is a lot like providing an open invite for rats and other such scavenging animals to feed upon your compost heap.

2. Product Size - Similar to a great deal of things in this life, size really does matter. Adding big branches, big leafy materials or even entire food products on your compost pile is just going to slow down its rate of decomposition. All of the composting microorganisms, bugs and composting worms residing in your garden compost only have little jaws so naturally they like smaller sized parts to chew on. Cutting larger organic food items in to smaller sized bits, by using a saw, garden shredder or your mower will help break down the bigger items into smaller sized bite-sized portions.

Nearly all germs's and micro-organisms typically have a tough time finding their preferred foodstuff contained within large woody type brown products due to their hard exteriors so shredding the products you include helps them on their way. Considering that the compostable materials are made much smaller, a lot more surface area and inner area will be exposed to the microbes which carry out the task of decay.

If these materials are separated and reduced in advance, it can help accelerate the decay procedure because the smaller the pieces, the quicker they can break down. However there is also a disadvantage in shredding woody materials to carefully.

These smaller sized particles will likely produce a more compressed aerobic compost pile minimising ventilation and air flow inside the load which might in turn result in an anaerobic condition because of the inadequate oxygen therefore the stack may need to be shelled out more regularly.

3. The Garden Compost Heaps Size - How huge your composting stack is also makes a huge distinction not simply to the speed of decomposition but for the last quality of the completed pile. Typically, a compost heap needs to be at most equivalent to about one cubic metre (3 x 3 x 3 feet) in volume as this makes it simpler to handle. Smaller sized aerobic piles have a tendency to dry out quickly for that reason require routine watering, although commercially available composting bins which have solid sides plus a lid can help keep smaller sized stacks damp. Bigger aerobic composting stacks occupy a lot extra space and will need to be forked over to allow more air into their center.

In addition, handing over an aerobic compost heap on a regular basis to move newly added external products towards the stacks center, or even to a different place or composting bin is simpler and much less effort when the real size of the compost pile is far more practical.

4. Water Content - Another important component with regards to quick aerobic composting is the proper quantity of water. Microbes reside in thin watery films which surround the aspects within the compost heap so it helps to keep the compost heap damp at all times. If your pile ends up being dried out, the bacterial microorganisms are not able to work effectively so include some extra greens. Ought to the stack end up being too wet, the bacterial microbes are not able to receive the amount of oxygen they want to breath so consist of some extra browns and dish out the pile to blend it in.

It is simple to learn if your compost pile includes the correct volume of water (40-60%), merely take hold of a little handful from the compostable material and then squeeze it. If water permeates out through your fingers, then the stack has actually ended up being too wet. Ideally the compost needs to be a little damp, similar to a damp cloth or sponge to be able to ensure bacterial decay and development.

5. Aeration - the composting of products is absolutely an aerobic procedure. In order to help produce top-notch garden compost easily, a lot of fresh tidy air is important to let the microbes and bugs living and thriving inside it breathe. Forking over your garden compost using a spade or pitchfork when or even twice a week helps aerate the stack along with putting the recently added fresher external materials into its middle and vice-versa.

The technique of forking or turning and including dry or coarse products to the compost heap will help increase aeration, avoid odour-causing germs's from establishing and also help to speed up the aerobic composting process. This action of shelling out garden compost regularly in order to help speed up the stacks decay process is referred to as "active composting". Just turning and forking the pile allows surplus water to leave and evaporate providing fresh tidy air to the stack at the same time.

6. Micro-organisms and Bugs - No aerobic composting stack worth its salt would not be complete without the presence of the microbes and bugs which do all the work. It is these small little air-breathing micro-organisms and their larger soil loving cousins which are found naturally within the soil structure that will grow within the moist and nutrient-rich environments which you have created.

The smaller decomposters for example fungi and bacteria start the decay process whilst larger sized bugs such as worms, beetles, millipedes and centipedes, finish the decomposition cycle. What's left behind is an almost black humus soil enhancing medium.

To be able to effectively develop and increase, all these macro and micro-organisms require an energy source like for example the "browns", which offers them with a carb source and the "greens", which provides a protein abundant source. In addition to these they also need oxygen and water to endure.

However just like people, these bugs also like it warm and cosy, which suggests your compostable ingredients will certainly be become a finished garden compost much more quickly throughout the summer months when the sun's rays help warm things up compared to the cooler cold weather.

7. Don't Rush, Be Patient - Aerobic composting requires time. The speed or rate of composting trusts great deals of factors as we have seen, such as the moisture material, level of aeration, in addition to the carbon-to-nitrogen percentage, the actual greens-to-browns ratio. Generally, aeration and humidity are usually the two essential elements affecting the quantity of time needed to develop your completed garden compost.

But you can help Nature on her way by routine forking and turning of your compost heap which will most likely produce quality garden compost in about one or two months in the summer season whilst month-to-month turnings could create compost from about 4 to six months in time. The quickest composting happens when you have currently pre-mixed the browns and greens products, adding some previous microorganism abundant garden compost and turning or blending the stack weekly, as well as managing the quantity of air and water. But if all that is simply excessive work, then sit back, relax and let the bugs do the work.

Aerobic garden compost is an exceptional garden soil additive which boosts the workability and performance of your garden soil. The correct quantity and kinds of materials you include into the compost heap really makes a big distinction on the level of quality and the composting period.

You need to think about your aerobic compost pile as resembling a self included eco-system, and in order for it to establish and endure, this particular eco-system requires the correct mixture of ingredients and materials such as "Oxygen" (the air), "Heat" (the sun), "Food" (the compostable materials), and "Moisture" (the water), with the resulting quality and quantity of the ended up garden compost being determined by simply how well you have the ability to manage and manage all of these four variables.

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[buddha-in-disguise]

A full of fucking swearing long post about the shitstain that is Dominic Cummings. Plus where I can find them, at the end I will link fucking sources, just in case anyone wants to try and say otherwise.

Also, if you do start @ me over him, I'm blocking your fucking cunt of an arse. Clear enough?

Good. Then let's begin.

As a nation, we can be a fairly mild mannered lot. At least collectively. But as of now, the majority of Britons are a mass of anger. So much so, I've even agreed with pundits like Piers Fucking Morgan! That alone is distressing enough, but Dominic Cummings has pissed off just about everyone.

But first a little background on this heaping pile of shit.

Dominic Cummings was one of the main instigators of Leave Campaign in regards Brexit. Now for those who don't know or haven't cared until now, not only were they found to be in breach of the electoral law, Dominic himself was also found in contempt of Parliament when they tried to find out if Vote Leave used fake news to help achieve their goal.

To add to this, he took around 200k of subsidies from the EU for his properties. So a known lying fucking hypocrite.

Even before that, he was advisor to Gove, that spineless fucking weasel who has been out today spouting even more fucking bollocks over this. Funny that.

Don't think for a minute being Gove's Special Advisor meant Cummings was liked by others in the Tory Party. Cummings was pretty much despised by a lot in Government at the time. David 'Pig fucker' Cameron called him a career psychopath.

Fast forward to 2019. Cummings is now Special Advisor to another spineless fucking cunt known as the Prime Minister Boris Johnson. BJ was never in control. Anyone watching what was going on knew that the moment Cummings had Javid's one aide uncermoniously marched out of her job, using armed police no less.

Only problem was, he had no authority to do that.

But never fear, BJ decided to change the rules, so lo and behold, he didn't break any rules (seeing a pattern here yet?)

So fast forward to the last few days. Now newspapers were reporting that Dominic Cummings drove his COVID-19 symptomatic wife, with a 4 year old in the same enclosed vehicle, some 260 miles to his parents location in Durham.

Oh now comes the fun part, and why as a nation we are all beyond extremely miffed, and fucking pissed off!

The offical guidance was anyone in a household with someone displaying symptoms (tested or not) was to stay the fuck at home. There was one exception to this rule. One. Extreme risk to life.

So Cummings took the decision to go and drive for fucking childcare reasons.

A man with his wealth, privilege and even with family in fucking London, couldn't do it at his home, but had to drive (thus risking his own child because of viral load you're going to get in an enclosed vehicle), himself and others (because he had to stop. Tell me of anyone with a 4 year old in the car they wouldn't be stopping anywhere?)

So anyway, they take a fucking jolly jaunt up to his parents.

But hold on, a Minister recently resigned for breaking lockdown rules. So why in the ever loving fuck was Cummings not resigning or being fired?

I don't know what Cummings has on BJ, but I suspect it makes wanting to fuck a dead pig seem like child play. Because not only isn't he fired, good old Jolly BJ comes out and fully defends and supports his senior advisor (who is unelected as well, just to add salt to that wound).

So by following his fatherly instincts (the fucking laughable defence given, when BJ couldn't even say how many fucking kids he has) and acting with integrity, (someone please give these fucking morons a dictionary), Cummings was given a free pass.

And then a load of fucking MP's including cabinet ministers all piled in saying how great a father he is, how it was exceptional circumstances that made him do it, you're all overreacting you terrible ingrate you, blah, blah, more horse shit, blah!

So, now all of those families who actually followed the fucking rules, and did what the government said are now being told, oh sure. You could've attended the funeral of your loved ones. Gone halfway across country to get child care for your kids, and so on and so fucking forth.

So basically saying, hah the jokes on you.

A few grumbles came out from the odd Tory, who might not have grown a spine, but were looking less like jelly (jello) being nailed to the wall, and more like thick fucking custard. A little more substance to them, but still slopping around with no spine.

We have a bank holiday coming up, and unusually good weather forecast, because as every Brit knows, Bank Holidays are normally shit weather wise. And a lot of people saying, fuck me if Cummings can do this, so can we. And all pile into cars for days out as if nothing had changed! No masks, no social distancing. Zilch. Great innit.

No it fucking isn't! The virus doesn't take a holiday you fucking morons!

So back to the other mess. Cummings now gives a press conference in the fucking rose garden of No.10. Also likely in breach of the rules, but as we know, he really doesn't give a flying fuck about rules now does he.

First of all he was 30 minutes late (you would've been sanctioned , therefore getting no money, for weeks, probably months if on benefits and did the same thing thanks to this government). But he eventually rolls up, looking slightly less like he's been dragged through a hedge backwards, but still looking like a dogs arse. Actually sorry dogs, you don't deserve that comparison. I'm really sorry!!

Anyway, here he is, about to fill us with more bullshit.

The shit now isn't just hitting the fan. In the immortal words of Terry Pratchett, The Midden has now hit the Windmill.

Cummings is trying to explain why he did what he did, oh and now we have the added delight of him being caught going out to a location some 30 miles from the family home, which is another breach of the law!

He sat there, and said, the public aren't angry at me, they're angry because of how the media have reported it. Woe is me, they're making me out to be the bad guy in all this .... blah fucking boo hoo blah.

This was supposed to calm us down.

Dear reader.

It. Did. Not.

So journalist after journalist (Beth Rigby gave a fucking masterclass) actually didn't let him get away with it.

These weren't just questions or accusations. They threw proof at him! Despite the collective rage, it was glorious to see them do it. If this was when stocks were still in use in the town square, Cummings would've been covered in excrement and anything else to hand. That shit was blown back so fast, it was hard to keep up.

Anyway, without going into too much here, his excuses ranged from he didn't feel safe because of demos outside his home (unverified and strangely enough, no neighbours reporting any disturbances either. Funny that),

Then, having gone to great lengths to say he drove up to his parents to keep his kid safe, he explains the additional trip he got caught out on was taken to test his eyesight, which had been affected because of being unwell with Covid19.

So not only is it highly fucking illegal to drive while impaired (including if eyesight is impaired) in this country, you decided to take your wife and kid, who you wanted to protect, not for a little jaunt down the road, but on a 60 mile fucking round trip.

Oh, and he hadn't stopped on the 260 mile trip up there, but his kid needed a stop on the way home, so a less than 60 mile trip required a stop. Yeah. Strange how that works.

He still kept blaming the media. Still kept up the woe is me, it was exceptional circumstances, and so on. Must get sore lips there Cummings, with the amount of smoke you try to blow up peoples arses.

So, to end it all, he has flatly refused to resign. No need to even consider it. The public will be jolly good chaps in all of this and see my side of things.

No we won't, you motherfucking cunt!

So this morning, various people including Gove are still making excuses for this fucking shitstain.

I now wish Cummings is fired, but better yet, thrown out of our universe, so he can never ever be seen again. But I've seen more spine on a fucking snake that I have Boris Johnson, who is just as much to blame in all this.

Before I end, we also had an infamous Tweet from someone in the Civil Service, who knew they were torpedoing their career. I'm including a screen shot. It was taken down, but it was genuine. Whoever they were, you deserve all the applause and a fucking medal!

Oh and a few sources for this and the cuntface Cummings. But you know, just Google the fucker. You can find this and much more.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-44856992

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-47712040

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2019/aug/10/dominic-cummings-owns-farm-got-eu-subsidy

https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2014/jun/18/david-cameron-dominic-cummings-career-psychopath

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/dominic-cummings-boris-johnson-cabinet-minister-aides-civil-service-sajid-javid-a9109836.html

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-52782913

[https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-52553229

https://www.bbc.com/news/amp/uk-52792200

https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-52793991

https://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/news/north-east-news/dominic-cummings-trip-county-durham-18306147

https://www.gov.uk/driving-eyesight-rules

[autodidact-adventures]

Plants: Holly (Ilex aquifolium): Part 2

Holly is also known as: Holm, Holm Chase, Holy Tree, Hulver Bush, Hulm.

Holly grows very slowly (though more quickly after the first 4-5yrs), and is more likely to grow tall when among trees that don't grow faster than it does.  In Italy, and in the woods in France (especially Brittany), is grows to a much larger size than in Britain, where it seldom grows over 1.0 – 1.3 metres tall, or 60cm in diameter.

Holly tree.

It will grow in any soil (so long as it isn't too wet), but grows best in rich, sandy or gravelly loam, with good drainage and a moderate amount of moisture at its roots.  Its growth is usually stunted in very dry places.

Holly will grow in nearly any soil that isn't saturated with stagnant water.  The best place is a thin, scattered oak wood – it will grow up at once in the gaps.  Even the worst winters rarely injure it.

Like the beech tree, the trunk of the holly tree often has small wood knots – smooth nodules of solid wood embedded in the bark.  They can easily be knocked off/out by a quick blow.  The bark is smooth and light grey, often with faint crimson touches.  It is often infected with a very thin lichen, which has many curved black lines as its spore-bearing structure (fructification).

Bark of an old holly tree.

Knobbly growths on a holly tree trunk (Cumbria, England).

The leaf's prickles point alternately upwards and downwards.  Only the end prickle is in the same plane as the leaf, and most of the upper leaves only have this one prickle.

The leaves have no taste or smell.  They fall off the tree after several years, and because of their leathery texture & durable fibres, they take a long time to decay, withstanding effects of both air and moisture.

Flowers appear in May (late spring), and are succeeded by berries, which mature in October/November (late autumn).  One tree will rarely produce an abundance of flowers two years in a row.  The male flowers fully develop, but the female flowers don't [?]  If the tree is clipped a lot, there aren't likely to be many berries.  The berries are usually most abundant in the upper part of the tree.

Birds, rodents and large herbivores (including deer & sheep) eat the berries in late winter, after the frost has made them softer & more edible, and they have fallen to the ground.

Each seed has 3-4 seeds, which germinate in their second or third spring.  This delay means by that time, they will usually have been buried in a heap of earth for a year (or more) previously.

Young plants should be transplanted when 30-45cm high, and in autumn. Holly exhausts the soil around it more quickly than most deciduous trees, so if it's going to be a holly hedge, the soil around it should be well-trenched and moderately manured if necessary.  The holly plant will take at least 2yrs to recover from being transplanted.

Holly is excellent for a hedge, as it is easily kept trimmed.  It forms very thick hedges that are basically impenetrable.

In Morbihan (a department in Brittany, in north-west France), the peasants gather the young holly stems to feed to cattle from November to April (late autumn to mid-spring).  The stems are dried and bruised, and fed to the cattle three times a day.  They are a very wholesome food; and lead to good milk & butter production.

Apparently, a holly-stick placed in a hutch for the rabbits to gnaw on will act as a tonic, and restore their appetite.

Uses of the Wood

Holly wood is hard, compact, and very even throughout.  It is beautifully white (except in the centre of very old trees), and polishes very well.  Because of this, it is much prized for ornamental ware, especially for inlaying (such as in Tunbridge ware). Its grain is also very even, making it valuable to the turner [woodturner?].

It has a slightly greenish hue when freshly-cut, but soon becomes perfectly white.  Its hardness makes it superior to any other white wood.  It retains sap well, causing it to warp, so it must be well-dried and seasoned before being used.

Examples of the wood.

Spalted English Holly (turned).

The best time to cut holly is in the spring, before the sap rises.  A sloping cut, as opposed to a straight cut, prevents moisture from remaining on the cut part, which should also be covered in a coating of tar for the same reason.  The side growths help draw up the sap, so they should be left.

Holly wood is often stained blue, red, green or black.  When stained black, it usually serves as a substitute for ebony (e.g. in the handles of metal teapots).  Holly wood is used to make mathematical instruments, and blocks for calico printing.  Although it is inferior to boxwood, it has been used as a substitute for it in wood engraving.  Wood of the silver-striped variety of holly is said to be whiter than the wood of the common kind.

Straight sticks of this wood are often used for the stocks of light drivings whips, and for walking sticks.

English holly (sanded).

English holly (sealed).

English holly (endgrain - cut across the growth rings).

Endgrain (x10).

History

In Ancient Rome, people sent holly boughs, together with gifts, to friends during Saturnalia.  The early Christians adopted this custom, but some obviously didn't approve – an edict of the Church of Bracara forbade Christians to decorate their houses with green branches at Christmastime.  (Saturnalia was about a week before Christmas.)

In pre-Christian Britain, the Druids decorated their houses with evergreens during winter, so their home could be an abode for forest spirits.

In old church calendars, Christmas Eve is often marked templa exornatur (“churches are decked”).  According to legend, holly first sprang up under Jesus' footsteps.  In Northern Europe, the plant is referred to as “Christ's Thorn” for this reason.  It is also called the “Holy Tree” (including in England).

“Holme” and “Hulver” are also popular names for holly.  It used to be called “Holme” in Devon, “Hulver” in Norfolk, and “Holme Chase” in one part of Dartmoor.

Medicine

The leaves, berries and bark have medicinal properties.  Leaves that will be dried should be collected in May or June (late spring/early summer), on a dry day, preferably around noon, when there is no longer any trace of dew on them.  Stained or insect-eaten leaves shouldn't be used.  Fresh leaves are also used.

Holly leaves have been used as a diaphoretic (to induce sweating), and an infusion (prepared by soaking the leaves in liquid) of them have been used to treat catarrh (inflammation of the mucuous membrane leading to excessive mucus in nose/throat), pleurisy and smallpox.

Juice of the fresh leaves has been used for jaundice.  The leaves' febrifugal (fever-reducing) & tonic properties have been useful for intermittent fevers and rheumatism.

They have been used successfully when cinchona bark (an Andean flowering tree in western South America) has failed, in the form of a powder, infusion or decoction (prepared by heating/boiling the leaves to extract a concentrated essence).  This substitute works because of ilicin, a bitter alkaloid contained in the leaves.

Cinchona bark.

The berries, on the other hand, are violently emetic and purgative (laxative).  Even only a few will cause a human to vomit excessively very soon afterwards.  However, they have been used to treat dropsy; and powdered berries can treat bleeding as an astringent (causing the contraction of skin cells & other body tissues).  They were also used in the past to treat colic.

The English botanist Nicholas Culpeper (c. 1616 – 1654) stated that “the bark and leaves are good used as fomentations for broken bones and other members as are out of joint.”  A fomentation is a poultice.

Holly bark can also be used to make birdlime.  The bark is stripped off around midsummer, steeped in clean water, and boiled until it separates into layers.  The inner green layer is piled up into small heaps, and left until it ferments, which takes about a fortnight.

The sticky substance is then pounded into a paste, washed, and put aside to ferment again.  Finally, it is mixed with some oily substance (preferably goose-fat).

In northern England, holly was once so abundant in the Lake District that large quantities of it were used to make birdlime, which was shipped to the East Indies for destroying insects.

In the Black Forest (in south-west Germany), holly leaves have been used for tea leaves.  In Brazil, “Paraguay Tea” is a popular drink, made from the dried leaves & shoots of Ilex paraguariensis, a South American species of holly also known as yerba mate.

Ilex gongonha and Ilex theezans are also used for tea in Brazil.  All three of these species are valuable as diaphoretics and diuretics (increase urination).

The leaves of Ilex paraguariensis (and several other species) are used in dyes.  The unripe fruits of Ilex Macoucoua have high levels of tannin, so when bruised in a ferruginous mud, they can be used in dyeing cotton, acting somewhat like galls (a type of abnormal swelling growth on the outside of plants, fungi and animals).

Ilex paraguariensis.

Pliny

Pliny the Elder (d. 79 AD) wrote about holly in his Naturalis Historia, calling it Aquifolius (“needle leaf”).  He states that it was the same tree that Theophrastus (c. 371 – c. 278 BC) called Crataegus, but later commentators deny this. According to Pliny:

Crushed holly leaves, mixed with salt, are good for diseases of the joints.

Holly berries – for menstruation, coeliac problems, dysentery and cholera.  A wine made from them can help with diarrhoea.

A decoction of holly root can extract objects embedded in the flesh, and can also be used for dislocations and swellings.

A holly tree planted in a town/country house will ward off magic influences and protect the house from lightning.

Holly flowers cause water to freeze (he attributes this to Pythagoras).

If you throw the wood at an animal and miss, it will roll closer towards is (also attributed to Pythagoras).  It will also compel the animal to return and lie down by you.

[Source]