#stonemen

[kekwcomics]

A Mexican Reprint of House of Mystery #85 (DC, 1959) - Cuentos de Misterio #6 (1961) from EDICIONES RECREATIVAS S. A. DE C. V. aka ER Comics.

House of Mystery #85, which was, itself, a try-out for Tales to Astonish #16 (Marvel, 1961) which was a prelude to Journey Into Mystery #83 (1962).

[cityzenshark]

Family | Chapter 24 - Hearts and Sparks

Homepage | Book One: Family | Book Two: Unity | Book Three: Belonging

Synopsis: The townspeople of Witwicky help the Maltos in return for saving their town.

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Robby is transferred to the ICU as his conditions worsens. The doctor finds his symptoms to be a combination of sepsis and something that seems to be energon poisoning but isn’t. After he leaves, Robby tearfully confesses to Dot how terrible he had been since moving to their new home and apologizes for putting the Terrans in danger and for lashing out at her. Dorothy hugs her son, crying herself, and forgives him. Robby wishes the cybersleeve to come off. Later, his old friends come to visit him, including Stevie. What Robby said to Stevie still hurts but Stevie hates to see him deathly ill even more. Robby apologizes to him, and the two old friends made up.

       At the town’s capitol building, Alex and Mo is invited by the town Elders to discuss if the town’s old legends are related to the Core, the Emberstone, and the cybersleeves so they might be able to help solve the family’s issues. Mo hesitates to tell, then the shaman reassures her by telling her about Witwicky’s Mountain Spirit and Her stonemen offspring. If the ‘stonemen’ had been previous Terrans, they are records of something similar to cybersleeves on their ancestors who had lived with them. Later, Alex and Mo exit the capitol building to find Mo’s friends and their families waiting for them with charity they had collected for the Malto’s.

“It’s the least we can do after you saved us from Grimlock. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t seen the Terrans before that evening.”

“...You’ve seen them before?”

“Yep! Since your first day of school here, actually.”

“What... Why didn’t any of you say anything?”

“You seem scared for them, Mo. We didn’t want to stress you out, so we decided to wait for you, Robby or Mr and Mrs Malto to say something.”

“The revelation could’ve been better...”

“Hey, Mo, it’s over and done. You and your family saved this town and now it’s time for us to help you.”

       Back home, the Terrans have separated counselling sessions with therapists.

Hashtag has hers by the waterfall. She talks about her trauma and worries how humanity would welcome after what she did in Philly city because – mind controlled or not — she’s still responsible for the damages. Nightshade has theirs at the edge of the cow paddock. They express how ashamed they feel from their lack of understanding to their siblings’ feelings even when the cyberlink was still intact yet hates it so much. Jawbreaker has his at Mrs Belle’s silo. He feels embarrassed to be afraid of his older Terran siblings and shares his guilt for triggering Grimlock’s PTSD. Thrash has his in the bunker. He expresses the burden he feels for not just being the big brother but also being the first of his kind in a world hurt by the senior Transformers-kind; how he wishes the Terrans to never be involved in fixing the Cybertronians’ mistakes.

Meanwhile Twitch has hers in the woods where she and Robby went Wak-Wak hunting. Twitch refuses to admit her wrongs as she tries to convince her therapist how her actions were right, while the latter is wrong and bad for disagreeing her. Her therapist shares his personal story where he let his anger get the better of him. His actions got an innocent bystander killed. While he was in the right that time, the bystander is a victim, and he will forever be responsible for their death. Twitch’s decision to help Bumblebee and Brawl herself was indeed right, but the price was not worth the city’s destruction or it being the world’s first impression on the Terrans. Worst, Hashtag’s innocence is now unbelievable for an unforeseeable future.

Realisation finally dawned on Twitch, followed by immense regret. She wails loudly. Alarmed by her cries, her Terran siblings rush to her. Twitch hugs Hashtag by her neck and sob “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, little sister!!” Though confused, Hashtag hugs her back and their brothers join in. The therapists give them some privacy, feeling relieved and glad for them.

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[avengedog]

The Stonemen

[fairy-verse]

I don't know if my inbox just straight up ate this ask, or if I accidentally deleted it, but luckily I'm smart and save all the questions in a word document when I answer them, so hah! I still got it.

If you want more in-depth descriptions of the different races, then please send individual asks for them.

evethepoptwist asked:

What do season fairies work for like what do they harvesting for, what do they make for their own little inventions and crafts, or how do they take care of animals by their own ways, depending on each seasons other than singing, dancing, laughter, etc. And can you tell us more about trolls, flower people, and mushroom people, and what do they do for the living? Since we barely know these guys other than talking so much about season fairies and the big folks

It is important to remember that the fairies mostly just create and work for the fun of it. Once they’ve made anything they require to survive for the seasons they do not belong to, then they’re free to just craft and create things that they love. They will harvest whatever food they can find within their respective season, and oftentimes trade with each other should they desire anything that belongs to the other seasons.

The animals care for themselves, but some fairies will take extra care in aiding them through life to ensure their survival, though it all depends on how much they love said animal. Most of the time, they will simply flutter around them and bring them as much luck as possible. Fairies possess an extra amount of luck compared to other beings, after all!

The trolls are night-dwelling creatures that hide in caves, holes, and makeshift homes that they create out of fallen trees, moss, sticks, and mud. Sunlight will turn them to stone, which is a painful process that cannot be undone. They prefer deer, moose, and rabbits as food, but have acquired a taste for humans, too. Fairies are mostly seen as tasty sweets to them. They have been known to create clothes and weapons, and they can speak to each other, though this is through grunts and growls. Most of the time, they fight amongst themselves and prefer solitude to companionship.

The flower people were born from the magic of the Luna tree on the Isle of Luna, and from said tree, they are granted immortality. They rarely leave the island, as what often happens to those that do so, is that they fall in love and will inevitably be cursed with heartache for eternity. They are the same size as fairies, and legend has it that they’re all blessed with the ability to communicate and manipulate the nature around them. No one fully knows what they do on the island, as no one has been able to cross the mist surrounding it.

The mushroom people are essentially just mushrooms with stumpy legs and arms that wander the forest floors. They will squeak, though no one yet knows if this is a form of communication or not. Sometimes, they may sit for hours and days without doing anything. They are popular pets among the fairies, especially the spring and autumn fairies.

There are also:

The Stonemen will appear as boulders, rubble, and mountains when asleep. The sleeping sisters are believed to be Stonemen who fell into a deep slumber many hundred years ago, and some think they will cause havoc once they awake again. This theory hasn’t yet been confirmed. Stonemen in general are peaceful and stationary, though when awake, they have been observed to find pleasure in watching fairies play together.

The small people/monsters look just like the big folk, only the size of fairies. They live in holed out trees and tiny houses on the forest floor. There are not that many of them on Fairy Island, as they’re not native there. They’ll live simple lives, preparing for winter, sewing clothes, creating fun projects they can play with, and sometimes even trading with fairies.

Gnomes are odd winter creatures that have their eyes hidden by pointy hats in the colour of either, red, blue, or green. They live in holes in the ground, though said homes look very cozy, often with a fireplace, a place for a kitchen, a big bed for the whole family, and such. They only come out once the snow lays thickly on the ground, and then they’ll collect sticks, frozen berries, and other trinkets they can find on the ground. Very little is known about them, though they’ll sometimes trade with the winter fairies.

Monster fairies can often be found close to Big Folk villages, and sometimes even in them. They like to settle within their attics for warmth, though there are still those who prefer to live in the forest away from them. Most can be found in Willoway Forest, though there are those who live in the Singing and Kval hills. They often steal food and clothes from the Big Folk. These fairies are the ones that look like variants of Papyrus, Toriel, Asgore, Temmie, esc…

Human fairies/Fae are in small numbers and can only be found within Ink’s domain, as he is the father of their race. They have blacked-out eyes and silvery blue wings, and they should never, under any circumstance, be trusted to make a deal with. Luckily, it’s difficult and extremely rare to ever meet with any of them.

[naneki-maid]

Because you do not belong across the world with the bloody stonemen. You are the Princess Shireen of House Baratheon. And you are my daughter.

-Game of Thrones. Stannis Baratheon to his daughter Shireen Baratheon.

[rise-my-angel]

The fact that season 5 had Stannis's most powerful and emotional character moment,

"Everyone advised me to send you to the ruins of Valyria to live out your short life with the stone men before the sickness spread through the castle. I told them all to go to hell. I called in every maester on this side of the world. Every healer, every apothecary. They stopped the disease and saved your life. Because you did not belong across the world with the bloody stonemen. You are the Princess Shireen of House Baratheon. And you are my daughter."

And then proceed to ruin it entirely by having Stannis willingly burn her alive without emotion or care? Absolutely bonkers.

How did this show wildly flip between writing really powerful show only scenes and really atrocious show only scenes so drastically?

[salty-accords]

Let's Talk About... Suicide Squad (2016) | Movie Review

The hit 2016 supervillain film Suicide Squad is a point of contention in DC fan circles. Some loved it for what it was���a Hollywood semi-drama action film centered around the character dynamics of some of DC’s most interesting villains—and some railed against it for what it wasn’t—a deep, thought-provoking action piece that challenges worldviews and character legacies. Some, also, did both—love it for what it is and mourn for what it could’ve been.

So, Let’s Talk About Suicide Squad.

The Summary

Not to be confused with the more recent The Suicide Squad, which is this film’s hit sequel, Suicide Squad is an action-packed, comedic supervillain movie—and the “supervillain” is quite serious. In the whole movie, the only superhero that gets more than a few minutes of screentime is Katana, and all things considered, she plays a fairly small part in the movie.

The film takes place sometime after Superman is killed and buried, circa 2016 in the DC Extended Universe. Several of the universe’s worst villains are off the street, caught by heroes, including Harley Quinn, Deadshot, Killer Croc, Slipknot, Captain Boomerang, and El Diablo—The Enchantress, an ancient interdimensional entity, is also in custody. Amanda Waller, a government agent, arranges them into an elite task force, Task Force X, headed by Colonel Rick Flag. They’re to be an underground unit, known only to those who need to. Waller also keeps the Enchantress’s heart in a box—literally—as an insurance policy, and her trapped brother on a shelf.

When the Enchantress escapes Nick Flag’s sight and frees her brother, it sets off a chain of events for Task Force X’s first mission: work together under Flag and the superhero Katana’s leadership, and deliver their objective, “the only person in [the] city” they aren’t allowed to kill, to safety.

The villains, sans Enchantress, who has all but escaped Waller’s control with the help of her brother, set out to New York City, miniature bombs set in their necks to blow whenever the agents deem needed. As Deadshot says, “[Flag] dies, WE die!”

Their helicopter is gunned down suddenly, crashing them all in the disaster zone of NYC. The villains plot to overtake the unit at large, despite the danger looming at their Colonel’s fingertips and beneath their skulls. Slipknot and Captain Boomerang attempt to escape outright—Slipknot nearly succeeds but his bomb is triggered and he is killed. It’s a fast-paced, brutal scene that hammers into both the audience’s mind and the villains’ how serious their situation is—Waller and Flag own them now.

Meanwhile, the Enchantress and her brother are taking captured humans and turning them into stone-creature minions—think the Stonemen from Game of Thrones mixed with the alien army from the first Avengers movie, and you have the general appearance, mannerisms, et cetera.

Flag and the villains continue to their objective location, Harley causing no small amount of trouble along the way. She smashes in a storefront window to steal a purse, answering Flag’s protest with “We’re bad guys—it’s what we do.” Deadshot, missing his young daughter, who is an under-utilized factor in his motivation, stares longingly at a set of mannequins in winter wear: a father and daughter set up, mirroring the night he was captured by Batman in front of her.

The halfway point of the film finds our villainous heroes just outside their objective—Deadshot rushes in, leading the (slow) charge toward their mission’s end. It’s too quiet, even the soundtrack taking the backseat to the rustle of their clothes and gear. It’s incredibly effective at setting up the punchline for the scene: an elevator’s ding and Harley, illuminated in white light inside, rising above them all (literally), the soundtrack coming to life with a high-energy R&B beat.

After a quick, Harley-centric fight scene, they’re all reconvened and moving forward again. They walk into an ambush—a bunch of minions are waiting in the shadows, nooks and ceiling of an office room (full of cubicles) and the scene explodes, literally, with gunfire and stone chips from the minions. Through it all, El Diablo is inactive, standing to the side and quiet. When they escape the office room to the hallways, Deadshot provokes him into firing (literally) at the opposing group of minions. His glare afterward could scare anyone, and Deadshot’s nervous assurances of no ill-will make it clear that the Man Who Never Misses is no exception. Harley is enthused.

Walking up the stairs to their objective, Harley looks down the spiraling staircases—she flashes back to when she was still Harleen, Joker’s rogue psychiatrist. They were in the ACE Chemicals factory where Joker once fell into the vats below. He now wants her to take a leap of faith—one he only just makes worth it for her. Kehlanie’s Gangsta begins in the background; it’s their wedding, essentially, and Harley takes the leap. Joker, after deliberating, follows.

They make it up to their objective—Flag goes into the safe room; Waller is there, their objective to take home. Waller kills every single one of the agents in the safe room, saying they weren’t “cleared for any it.” The villains, rightfully pissed at being all but collared like dogs, threaten her and Flag—she backs them down with a worse threat: killing all of them thanks to the little bombs in them.

A helicopter is meant to meant them on the roof. No one can make contact with the piloting team. It’s been jacked by none other than Joker, and everyone opens fire. Harley is thrilled. Joker’s in a fancy tux, waiting for her on the bird. He’s kidnapped a scientist that worked on the bombs, and the “professor” disables Harley’s nanite. She runs to Joker, Flag and Waller trying desperately to trigger her bomb.

Waller goes so far as to “commission” Deadshot to kill Harley—his freedom, his daughter, for Harley’s life. He almost takes it, “missing” the shot at the last second. His eyes are glassy. It’s an amazing bit of emotional acting on Will Smith’s part. Waller calls a hit on the hijacked chopper anyway. It hits.

Harley falls from the crashing plane to a rooftop, watching in agony as the plane crashes with her beloved still inside—she thinks he’s dead, and the Task Force X team think she is, too.

They get Waller on a helicopter out of NYC—it’s crashed by the Enchantress’s brother, and she’s captured, the sole survivor of the crash.

Harley, desolate, waits down on the street for the others, playing up her bubbly persona to dissuade hostility from them. She’s thrown away her “Puddin’” choker. It’s awkward but the villains have empathy for her—they get it, and they don’t say anything. They don’t need to.

With Waller in her clutches, the Enchantress begins the final stage of her plan: gather intel on human armies and defenses to destroy the human race and everything we love.

Deadshot finds a binder of classified documents in Waller’s crashed bird. It’s all of her Task Force X information. He demands Flag tell the team everything. He does. The villains are rightfully pissed, as is Katana, and they go into a bar and they have drinks.

El Diablo gives his tragic backstory. A gangster with a soft spot—he had a wife and kids he loved, but his anger was too great when she found out his gang dealings and his power too strong. He lost control and burned the whole family out. He turned himself in. In hindsight, it’s more than a little stereotypical: Hispanic man gets mixed up gangs, rises to power, becomes violent toward his wife when she finds out and tries to get the kids away from it all. He kills them.

Flag eventually joins in the “revelry,” much to Harley’s distaste. He comes clean about his attachment to Dr. June Moone, the Enchantress’s host, and Flag smashes the command panel for their nanites. Then, he gives Deadshot the letters his daughter’s been writing him since he got to jail. It pushes Deadshot over the edge—he agrees to go with Flag to “end this shit” and demands that everyone, his daughter especially, knows what they, the villains, did, what they saved the world from and why.

With nothing better to do, and some goading from Harley, the others follow.

It’s a real build-up action sequence: our great heroes walking toward almost certain doom, epic music pounding behind them. They come up with a plan: get and blow the bomb Flag left under the subway station the first time he tried to take down the Enchantress’s brother.

Killer Croc takes the sewers; everyone else goes through the subway. Diablo is on the fence about fighting with them.

Enchantress, sensing them all inside, floats imaginary futures into their heads: Deadshot, killing Batman; Harley with babies and the Joker as her husband; Flag cuddled in bed with June; Diablo with his kids and wife, safe, lovey—

The vision sets off Diablo. He’s pissed and hurting. Enchantress can’t change what he did, and she can’t take away his people.

Croc and the underground unit are almost the bomb, and Diablo opts in to bully the brother into the right corner. He can regenerate but Diablo can shift into a larger, more durable form—it’s close, but the brother pins him. Flag calls for the bomb to be triggered, per Diablo’s command—the brother is killed, as is Diablo. Still, the Enchantress is ready.

She triggers her spell, using information from Waller’s hijacked mind to attack key satellites and locations. She engages the Task Force directly, phasing in and out of her physical form as needed to surge against them. She’s strong, and they aren’t stronger. An epic score sings in the background; gunfire explodes and contrasts her flighty embers.

She’s impressed—she offers “mercy.” Anything they want, for total servitude. Harley, the wonderful actress that she is, amps up her ditzy, lovestruck persona to get close to her, and then slink—

Drives Katana’s blade through the Enchantress’s chest, quickly tearing out her heart.

The scene that follows is almost impressive—it begins with Flag passing off another bomb to Killer Croc, then the cinematography slows. Harley tosses her gun to Deadshot; Croc levies the bomb at the whirling spell and the witch standing before it; Deadshot takes aim. The climax of the scene has his daughter, another vision, standing before him, begging him not to pull the trigger, a mirror of when he was caught by Batman—he screams, enraged, and fires. Enchantress reaches for the bomb at the same moment the bullet hits it, blowing the spell and launching her into the stairs beneath.

It’s a longer, more drawn-out sequence than it needs to be, and the slow-motion doesn’t add much. It’s interesting on a first watch, sure, but after that, it’s really not impressive. The shot being slowed down as Deadshot fires lends to the impressive willpower it took him to break the Enchantress’s temptation, but the sequence being slowed prior to that just gives it the impression that this was an easy decision for him, putting it in contrast to the one previous where he faked a miss on Harley. Ironically, once the vision begins, the action feels rushed.

Rick tries to reason with the Enchantress for June’s control back. She insists he just crush her heart and get it over with, basically, and he almost walks away. However, Deadshot calls him back, noticing how the “corpse” begins to move—June swipes away the face of the Enchantress. June and Flag have a heart-felt reconnection, while the villains attempt to wander off in various directions.

Waller quickly bursts their bubble, “cocking” the trigger for their nanites. She reminds them, promptly, that she still owns, and dogs don’t get freedom for tricks—they get treats: 10 years off their prison sentences. They settle for some luxuries—Deadshot gets visitation for his daughter; Croc gets a TV with his favorite music channel; Captain Boomerang gets jackshit for his attitude toward Waller; and Harley gets an espresso machine and…

The Joker! He breaks into Belle Reve and busts her out at the very end of the movie.

There is a hidden scene after the main credits that ties into the larger Batman plots of this universe, and the sequel, but I won’t get into that here. That will be a discussion for my longer video format review, which you’ll be able to find on my YouTube in about two weeks, and Early Access for my Patrons next Thursday (Oct. 17th).

What It Was

By far not the best DC movie I’ve ever watched, even in hindsight—that said, it’s far from the worst. It’s a great mish-mash of characters, and it’s fun. The characters get wacky, and they clash in just the right way; Flag is a great straight man to contrast Harley’s antics, and Deadshot is a great in-between with his sarcastic humor. The acting is honestly fantastic all the way around, except, maybe for one character…

The Joker is a very malleable character, but the way that Jared Leto’s interpretation of the Joker comes off in the movie is a bit too intent on Harley. I don’t think it’s so much a failure on Leto’s part as an actor, though much can be said about him and his… interesting career moves since this project, but it is definitely a writing and cinematography flaw that he pays for. With the clearly abusive and manipulative circumstances of the Joker and Harley’s relationship (and don’t come for me, I love my toxic straight people as much as the next supervillain fan), the devotion and love-sick depression J is shown to have just don’t mesh well in the regular cut. There is a bit more expansion and nuance given in the extended cut, but that’s a conversation for a longer review.

Over all, it’s a good movie. It’s certainly worth the watch if you enjoy a Guardian’s of the Galaxy style movie mixed with DC’s more gritty backdrop. There’s a lot of depth to the emotion of the movie, but most of the characters fall flat in comparison to the main few, those being Harley, Waller, Flag, and Deadshot. Even Katana and Diablo, who are given pretty fleshed out backstories and Diablo is even incredibly important to the plot, are pretty flat in comparison. Diablo, for his part, really just isn’t given enough attention. He doesn’t get enough screentime just dedicated to him, even though he’s one of the only characters with a backstory. It’s really the Harley and Deadshot movie with Waller and Flag guiding them along.

It’s impressive how it handles some of the characters’ emotional drives. Harley is given a lot of depth with her choosing her team over Joker, but there’s also ample energy given toward her dedication to him as a catalyst for her arc—her running out on the rooftop, all of her texts with him, and her backstory ultimately driving her into this situation in the first place. Deadshot, likewise, is given a lot of depth—his little girl is the driving force of his choices. I’m sure if it was just him on the line, he would’ve gone against Waller and Flag at the first provocation, but he has a kid to get back to and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try. That said, it isn’t enough to pit him against the people on his team—that’s the whole reason he fakes out his miss on Harley.

What It Wasn’t

All that said, this isn’t a fantastic movie. It’s fun, it’s good, but it isn’t phenomenal. It certainly misses the mark on a lot of things, and one of those is the pacing and character development. I’ll get more into characters in my extended video review, but taking just Flag, who’s one of the more fleshed out characters other than Deadshot and Harley, there’s a lot of issues with consistency and interpersonal relationships.

The midpoint, where Waller has been collected in NYC, after she’s shot all the FBI agents in front of Flag, he just shrugs it off and soldiers on, like those were a bunch of the Enchantress’s minions. But he spends 75% of the movie railing on the villains, Deadshot especially, for being cowardly, immoral, and murderers. He shrugs it off as ugly necessity, like it’s literal shit on his heel and not people who probably had families. It’s a sudden, jarring introduction to a really hardened, jaded, just bootlicking version of Flag that we don’t really see outside of this scene. There’s a few points, sure, where he takes the hard choice for June’s sake, and for June’s comfort, but he doesn’t do anything at all like that, or pass off anything like that, before that or after. Frankly, it’s sloppy.

It wasn’t the best supervillain movie as far as cinematography or action sequences goes—that actually goes to its sequel The Suicide Squad, which I’ll probably review November or December. There was a lot of potential set up early in the movie for the action sequences, like the use of those toxic, neon colors and the glitchy filter on some of the flashbacks, but they’re set aside in favor of more established techniques, like slow-motion. It doesn’t hurt the film much, but it is disappointing in hindsight. It’s still pretty impressive—the character introductions are insanely fun, especially the “card” screens, and so are the flashbacks. There’s a lot more texture to the cinematography that I’ll discuss in my extended video review, but largely, there’s just a lot of missed potential.

More-over, it wasn’t an emotional masterpiece. Again, there’s a lot of depth in the emotion and the weight of the plot on the main few characters, but overall, there’s a big balance issue with how the emotional texture is divided up between the cast. Katana, Boomerang, Croc, and even Diablo to a large extent, aren’t given much emotional texture, if any at all—for Slipknot, this really isn’t an issue; he’s in the movie for all of ten minutes before he gets his head blown off, so. But this film has a lot of really interesting characters that aren’t utilized being their fighting skills, and it starts to take away from the tone by the time Waller has been retrieved.

Conclusion

Suicide Squad is cool. It’s fun, and it’s goofy and it doesn’t take itself too seriously despite the gritty setting and more intense subject matter it delves into. It touches on trauma, on grief, and on the complexities of humanity but it never really digs at that stuff. It’s great fodder for thought and contemplation, but it does leave the viewer wanting sometimes. Some characters are under-utilized; some suffer because of their legacy; and some are just there to support the more flashy folks.

Some love it, some hate it, but I’d say it’s worth the evening to find out where you land, and definitely worth it to check out The Suicide Squad, which fixed a lot of the issues of this first film.

[thelandsbetweenandelsewhere]

Legends in the Lands Between tell of Alabaster and Onyx Lords, Stonemen of another world with the ability to halt the very stars themselves. So it goes that during the Age of the Golden Order the daughter of a noble family sought companionship in an Alabaster Lord with whom she’d been secretly communing in the night. Her father, wrought with fury that his noble blood might be tainted by what he saw as an eldritch threat, made a pact with a treacherous bloody finger that his daughter be returned to him no matter the cost.

Indeed his daughter was returned to him

Her lifeless body calcified and crumbling at the core.

As the noble held his daughter’s crumbling hand he heard the cries of a child amongst the rubble. This child, later named Eben, was to be the heir of his grandfather’s nobility.

Eben grew to see things differently and upon his coming of age he enacted a coup to relieve his father’s court of its dignitaries. He lead a bloody insurrection with the aide of his father’s own banner-men, the only obligation being that he take a wife of their lineage. Despite the transactional nature of the ceremony the two are alike in age and philosophy, and quickly grow to respect one another as husband and wife. They had three children, all of whom born white as stone, a trait that would never leave their lineage no matter how seemingly diluted the blood may be. Eben’s Lineage of Stone would rule the lands he inherited for eons, until a tragedy long overdue befell his distant grandchildren.

photo cred: @Kenats on youtube, super small channel but his video on the color contrast of elden ring is excellent

[maybeitswander]

The Lorn Empire

One of the many empires that existed before The Departure which is now presided over by Vernistat, The Lost King, who is sat on the Throne of Absolute Order. This throne is located at the peak of the capital, Erizra, previously home to the Divine of Order during the First War.

No one really visits the Lorn Empire's lands anymore as their are many undead and stonemen left to wander the fortified isle with no resources worth risking skin for however it is worth it to the various treasure hunters that come to the isle in search for relics and other goods.

Eriza despite it being left uninhabited for many, many years is in decent condition. The various grey marble buildings remain untouched by time. From the testimonies of treasure hunters in the area the effects of Sephdehid's Blesefian manipulation is still rampant here as most, if not all, color is drained from the city. Supposedly this removes the city from the standard flow of time but that is much harder to prove, especially because any measurement devices brought into the city are quickly brought under siege by the stonemen and undead that reside here.

[wyldwolves]

"I have one. I don't know its original name when it was first fired but I sent agents of my own out onto the world to comb the world over for gift for a man I once cared about. You remember him. He is gone but the blade that cost me the lives of three good men and a king's ransom of my own money to bring it back to me has never left my side. They pulled it from the ruins of old Valyria, fought off stonemen and strange creatures just to carry it through disputed lands, fighting off pirates at some point. They told me this fantastical tale and while I'm unlikely to believe that somehow - it is valyrian steel. Their fabricated legend they've created around the blade adds to its charm whatever its true origin is. I only use it in the most extreme of cases. If my sister asked me though I would stand one woman in front of a hoard of a thousand men and it would be that knife and I standing at the end of it." Elia spoke daring not to say the name of the man because it was what she had named the blade.

It sat in a gold box wrapped with red ribbon for nearly a year before she took it out and added it to her belt. The Martell sun couldn't recall if she had shown even Monterys who in the throws of her grief was the friend to have thrown her passions into - no. The only men who saw that blade now were dead men when it came unsheathed. Her lion was dead to her and if she saw its namesakes brother she might unsheathe it for him, watch him slide into the mud if not ended by his brother's hands but by the blade named after a lion. Gently she tapped her side, to the sheathed blade. There was her valyrian steel blade - their was her claw long and sharp- protector of a darkening sun.

One day she thought she would claim a sword like it two and then who could stand against Dorne if she and Nymor stood. Dawn and Midnight Sun. That's what she would name that blade and that would be all the army her country would need to guard the way until dragons born of the dornish sun roared through the skies. "I wouldn't mind sleeping on the planes. Then again I would come home leading them if I had half a desire to be what is it they call the wives of their khals? Khaleesi? Hypotheticals this all is, Ricasso. Should I pull this blade I will tell you so you might watch your girl vanquish her enemies in the name of Obella Martell and her Dragon. Maybe I melt these down and present a present to my good brother. He is the first good sibling this generation of Martells has. A fitting gift to give him one of their blades in some form. Would a prince like such a thing?" Elia huffed, nudging a sworn protector. "I thank you for the lessons you've taught me through the years. I would be nothing if not for your guidance. Do you believe these dragons can protect our girl?"

ricasso always had a soft spot for the martell princesses. perhaps it was because they knew how to take care of themselves. unlike other ladies of the seven kingdoms, they knew their power and how to use it. ever since he had sworn to their house, he has watched them flourish into powerful people. he didn't flinch when elia took another blade and threw it at the dummy, he was impressed with her skill. "yes, i am sure your sister would allow such a thing," he says with a laugh. "sending off her sister off to marry a horse lord. they are fierce riders but their way of life is far different than what you would be accustomed to." at times he missed it, but he was just a boy when he lived with the dorthraki, now he was a man of six and thirty. he much preferred sleeping on feather beds of the seven kingdoms to the grasses of the dorthraki sea.

he took a step towards her as she examined her blades. "if only the smiths of old valyria hadn't perished in the doom. their steel was the finest ever smelted but so very rare these days." everyone dreamt of having ownership of a valyrian steel blade but so few often did. "i would like to see one in your hand, no man would stand a chance to you, not even i."

[metabolicchief3]

2

Light broke through an open window, creating a cone of light. Each mote of dust caught in the cone burned almost as bright as the sun that illuminated them. Small spots of burning white floated in the air as Rordus breathed. His eyes locked on the ceiling of his bedchamber, then, as he turned his head, the rest of his room. A decent sized chamber, large enough to fit almost twenty stoutly men. A small chest sat on the other side, behind the door. Beside his bed sat his sword, an object he stared it.

He lay in his bed unmoving and endlessly thinking. He hadn’t been able to sleep for what felt like days, but had simply been the one night. There was an uneasiness that choked him. It held him to the bed and refused to let up. The very same thing that had burned inside him had overheated him as he slept. He had tried stripping down, shedding cloth until all that remained was that which he was born with.

Now, after so many hours had passed. He felt paralysed under the weight of this imaginary and suffocating force. One week. He had been given one week to prepare himself. To clothe himself and to arm himself for his coming journey.

Rolling onto his side, he asked himself what if I don’t make it? He shuddered at the thought of death, but knew it was natural and that, one day, Mheylin would carry his soul to safety. But he was still scared.

Any sane person would be, He thought. Despite his reasoning, he couldn’t leave his bed.

After what felt like hours, or maybe days, he heard the sound of a pick breaking dirt. It was soft, but he knew it. He’d heard it more times than he could count.

It rang again. And again. With every chime of the picks, he felt a fresh pang of guilt. I should help. He’d think, tracing the shape of the window in the drifting dust motes.

He closed his eyes and reminded himself of how much time he had left. How little time he had to prepare, and how much longer he had to spend with the people he would miss.

Then, he looked at the beaten down sword beside his bed. He imagined himself holding it, standing over felled foe and slain beast alike. A master of his own destiny with gore oozing off his body, none of it his own.

All things end. He remembered his house words. The words everyone else knew and the words he had lived by.

“Son. Come here. You’ll have a sister soon, and we need to talk to you about something.” Kristans voice rumbled from the deep parts of Rordus’ memory. Pulling him to sit up in his bed. His father had always been able to make him move.

“You see how your mother and I look so different? This is because she is an Orc, and I am an Elf. You son, are one of the many born between.

“And outside these walls, there are many more that look different to you or I. Mounjar, great Stonemen of the mountain.” Kristan imitates a great hulking figure, curling his arms around his sides as if trying to touch hips far wider than his own.

“Dwarfkin, small but mighty men beneath the mountains.” He bends his knees and brings his arms in, imitating a shorter and quite portly version of himself.

“Humans of various colour and makeup.” He covers his pointed ears and makes a series of silly faces, earning a boisterous laugh from his young son.

“These are the people who protect, and are protected. By us. Though our House words are ‘All Things End’, that is not all we say. We say ‘All Things End’ thus cause no sorrow, speak not ill, treat not unkind. So, Rordus. That is your role. To treat with kindness and care, to bring warmth in hearts and smiles on faces.” Kristan crouched down, touching his sons cheek before looking to a door, one Rordus hadn’t noticed until now. Rordus almost looked too but his fathers eyes fell on him once more.

Kristan smiled.

Rordus stepped out into the fields, pick slung over his shoulder with a hand to keep it in place. He had dressed in the same beaten down clothes he’d worn for every rotation since he’d fit them. Haggard greys, stained with dirt and scarce clumps of clay.

He stayed quiet as he moved to where he’d left off the day before. He didn’t dare talk for fear of his voice breaking and for shame for taking so long. It would have broken his heart if anyone knew how scared he was now. He had barely been able to use his guilt as fuel to leave the fort, he dare not imagine what fear would do to him now.

When he stopped, he looked back, staring up at the dark stone that comprised Highbrood. Up at the fortress he called home. An ugly thing made beautiful by the men and women who lived in it, and around it. People he’d come to love.

Rordus looked back to the dirt and pulled his pick back over his head, then brought it down. Then again and again until the sound from the weapon echoed across the burgeoning farmland.

He continued for a little over an hour before his pick broke. He’d drove it into the ground far too hard and the handle had snapped in two.

He mumbled a quiet curse behind his lips and straightened out his back, only now feeling the ache pulsing down his spine. He glanced around the field and gave a deep sigh.

He looked at the shattered half of the shaft he still clutched and had an idea. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad to practice before I go, but if I do.. His eyes turned to the other people picking away at the ground, breaking up the farmland to a farmable state. Once more a pang of guilt struck at his heart.

He clenched his hand around the broken shaft and threw it into the brush that lay not too far. Reaching down, he gripped the head of the pick by the damaged shaft and began anew. This time he was in one knee and used only one arm.

Strangely, this was even more efficient than before. Getting stronger still. He gave a slight smile and felt his fear trickle away some, just as it was clouded with the duty of ensuring they would be able to farm this land.

“Blue Eyes!”

Rordus looked up at Lersin and then to the two other boys beside him, Jerish and Harrel. All three looked to have an air of excitement and exuberance. Rordus didn’t like that. He knew the look, and it was never good.

“Can I help you lads?” Rordus inquired, returning to his work as he did. Ignoring the feeling of their stares. He assumed they were just trying to grasp what secret he may have been hiding.

“Not sure. Heard a rumour about someone. Says they might be leavin real soon.”

“Don’t tell me. Old Magge.” Rordus could almost feel the heat coming from Lersin’s red ears.

“Listen here you little-!”

“No you lout.” Jerish interjected, clearly annoyed at the ambiguity and sighed. “’eard it from the smiph. ‘arrel’s aunty.”

“Right you did eh? And where did she hear it from?”

“Well, she was asked to fashion you somephin for an ‘upcoming trip’.”

Rordus looked at Jerish now, a little confused though he didn’t let it show. He mulled it over in his head and gave the boys a shrug. He pondered what it could be. Perhaps a sword? But he had his own already. Maybe armor, but that didn’t make sense either.

“I’m going to the Harbor in a week. Obsidian asked for me directly.”

The three boys all dropped their jaws. They looked amongst each other and looked back at Rordus, a second round of shock passed through their faces as they realized he was serious. Their shock only barely held back their anger at Rordus’ nonchalance about such a piece of news.

“By the Baron’s black balls, you’re not tuggin!” Lersin was shocked, moreso than the rest. She could scarcely take her eyes off Rordus. “What would Obsidian want with a half-breed like you?”

“That’s Half-breed Lord to you Lersin.” Rordus smirked, satisfied with his quick wit and imitation of his father’s noble tone. When there was no rebuttal, his smirk faded into a flat expression. He returned to work quickly after.

It was silent then, besides the sounds of Rordus and the other townsfolk picking at the ground. The silence made Rordus uncomfortable, he kept waiting for some exclamation from Lersin or some story from Jerish. Maybe a complaint from Harrel. But nothing came and it felt wrong.

After too long a time of being uncomfortable, Rordus looked up and saw his friends terribly sad. Harrel was holding back his tears and Jerish was turned around, his head in his hand. Lersin was still just staring at him in disbelief, unwilling to process the information.

“I’m sorry.” Rordus whispered, almost glad he was already on one knee as his guilt flared.

“It’s okay.” Harrel sniffled, trying to keep his emotions inline. He was doing a terrible job. He wiped at his eyes and breathed as best he could. He’d always had trouble breathing when he cried. “Jus gon miss you is all.”

Rordus gave a smile and stood up, walking toward the three others and crouched in front of Harrel. He hugged him close and gave him a strong squeeze. “Don’t worry. I ain’t gone yet.”

He felt Harrel squeeze back and let go soon after, standing up fully and hugging the other two. He closed his eyes and squeezed them too, much stronger.

“I.”

“Rordus! Father wishes for you!”

Turning his head, Rordus was greeted with the sight of his sister. He suddenly felt a great pit in his stomach form and slowly looked back to his friends. Lersin had turned away, fists clenched and ears a blood red, and Jerish gave him a soft nod, his own lips unable to form anything besides a poorly concealed frown. Harrel was looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“One more hug?”

Rordus needn’t speak. His kneeling said his words for him as he hugged the young boy for what he feared would be the last time. He held his young friend for a time, letting Harrel choose when to let go. His eyes stayed shut for a long time and let Harrel feel what he needed to feel.

When the hug ended, both boys relinquished each other and stepped away, understanding that they’d be unable to say goodbye if they held each other again.

Rordus turned away then, solemn and somber. His gate was slow and his stride even as he walked toward his sister, and the- once guarding- now looming towers of Highbrood.

“Gonna miss them?” Charlotte asked. She stepped into stride with him, struggling at first to maintain the strange and macabre pace, but getting after a few awkward steps.

“Course I am. They’re my friends.” Rordus’ voice was soft. Softer than he himself had ever heard it. Like it, or he, lacked the strength to properly project it. “I’d miss you if you weren’t already nose deep in batshit and gum.”

Charlotte pulled a face that almost made Rordus smile, but he turned his gaze to his feet. He knew the path well enough to not need sight, but even then, seeing his feet on the dirt was a reassurance. He had often flown in his dreams. What man wouldn’t?

“You know, if it weren’t for you being my brother, I would have beaten you halfway to Mehylin’s embrace by now.”

“I know.” Rordus chuckled.

A long pause followed that. He didn’t know whether it was his sisters understanding of his current woes, or whether the conversation had grown stale with no fresh additions.

“Maybe after you learn all that Magic you’re so obsessed with, you could tutor me? Nothin too big. Just a small fireball here and there.” Rordus broke the silence. His voice still barely a conversing level, but his sister seemed to work well enough with what he gave.

“Possibly. I might be too busy to waste time teaching a mystical cripple like you any of the ropes.” Her voice had a self-satisfied air of pride and self-righteousness. An undignified tone that matched her perfectly.

“I’d like that.”

A few moments passed before Rordus realized Charlotte had stopped. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow quizzically. She just stood there, looking at him with the most indecipherable expression Rordus had ever seen. Got that from mother.

He gave her a smile and turned back, walking to the Fort by his lonesome, leaving his sister to ponder his offer.

The all too brief walk was shockingly refreshing. He pondered why it felt like someone was dying, why everyone were so emotional, including himself, when he still had a week until he left. He wasn’t dead yet.. was he?

His thoughts were cut short by his mother, waiting at the door. A sword in her good hand, his own haggard weapon in her other. He shot her a curious look, then she shot him his sword. A powerful throw. It would have caught him off guard if not for their incessant desire for him to catch arrows at any time.

“Mother.”

“Rordus. Come. The next week will be short for you, but much longer for us.”

“What do you mean?”

Farles drew her blade from its scabbard and dropped the finely aged leather-bound item.

“Mother. Just tell me.” Rordus’ voice was almost warning, and would have been. Had his opponent been anyone but his mother.

Farles stepped forward and lifted her blade up to strike.

“I will refine your swordplay as best I can.” She brought the blade down faster than she ever had.

Rordus barely lifted his own, still sheathed, sword in time. The impact echoing a sickening crunch as his scabbard came away damaged.

“And your father will refine your mind as best he can.” She swung again.

Rordus this time dove out of the way, rolling across the dirt before leaping to his feet. He pulled the sword from its scabbard and silently took note of the proceedings.

His eye caught his blade was intentionally dulled. He hoped his mothers was too. Barely regaining focus intime, he lifted his dull sword to block another mighty blow. The sound echoing across the empty yard.

Stepping back, he readied himself and stole a rushed breath. His vision was getting distant, he was losing focus. He strained his eyes to refocus on the world close to him and not miles beyond a human horizon.

Pain surged through his side, hindering his efforts. He swore loudly and stepped back further. This time instead, he reigned in his senses more easily. His eyes refocusing on his mother, who came at him with yet another swing.

“I think you’re being relentless to an unneeded degree!” He called aloud as he made his first attack, trying to jab right through her unprotected front.

She took a step and slapped his hand away. Bringing her blade up to his throat and holding it there.

“You have a disadvantage. You have to focus on things beyond just instinct. I have the advantage. I don’t need to reign in my sight for I see what is before me. And what I see is a poor swordsman.”

Rordus, thoroughly beaten and nursing bruises across his body, limped through the home. His mother had been unflinchingly aggressive. He understood why, she cared for him and wanted him safe. He just wished she cared a little less. If she had maybe he wouldn’t be more purple and blue than his natural marsh green.

With a rough grumble, he approached his fathers court chambers. His body weary and his mind just a little less weary. A hard days labour and faux-warfare had ruined his hands. Bandaged hands that pushed the doors open to reveal his father sitting at a table. The Map table.

Mentally cursing his situation, Rordus stepped through the door, entering a strangely discomforting threshold.

“Close the door.” His father said, not looking up from the book he appeared to be reading.

Rordus did as he was told and approached once the door was securely shut. He found a chair placed beside the table and took a relaxing, but painful seat. His legs were thankful for the break, but his bruises and aches only screamed in protest.

“Who lords over Caer’Gwaed?” His father asked, putting the book down and standing. His tone was not unkind, but it held no sympathies for his son. He stepped around the table and put a finger on the tops of the Gorewood.

“What?”

His father didn’t respond. Rordus straightened in the chair, unknowingly slouched in his brief relief.

“The High House Dymos. Lord Hathford Dymos is head last I heard.”

“Indeed he is. He has no children. Who stands to inherit the seat?”

Rordus had to think for a second.

“His brother. Lord Klarn Dymos.”

“Good. Which families make the Nine?”

Kristan’s eyes were unwavering. They made Rordus uncomfortable in a way and he averted his own eyes. He deliberated, stealing glances at his father, small attempts to gauge his emotions. Failed attempts.

“Douff, Braeffe, Crayton, Aerey, Emeress, Linias, simita, Maywealth, and Kydan all make the Nine. Family, now House, Allard left after a disagreement with the remaining member of Douff, Obsidian.”

“Esaul aua kay oss Phngyay Gor’rod?” Kristan lifted a brow at his son, a little smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. Rordus silently cursed the man. His Yiumayj was not good, and unprepared it was even worse.

This time he took longer still than ever. He translated the words in his head. What are the words of House Gorrod? He frowned harshly, an expression of near anger touching his features. He made the decision to try and prove himself that bit smarter than he looked and translated his own response into the elvish tongue.

“Ylaytsauyl Iy Kay Paulay.” Rordus gave Kristan a rebellious smile, feeling like he’d finally beaten or shown himself capable to his father.

“Steadfast Is The Gate. Good.” Kristan nodded slowly. “I would test your knowledge of Olcesh but I’m not versed in it well enough. I’ll leave that to your mother.”

Rordus gave a slow nod and looked down at the map table. Watching it like it may come to life. A sudden realization that soon he’d found out just how big things were.

“You’ll be alone on this venture.” Kristan spoke, stepping behind Rordus’ chair and back around to the opposite side of the table from where he had been. “I won’t be able to come with you. Your sister will take your role in the Rotations, but I will be busy with other less enjoyable things.”

Rordus felt a pang of relief. It almost surprised him, he didn’t quite think he was going to be worried about his place in the Rotation, and yet.

“What are the three things you need fear most?” Kristan asked, resting his knuckles atop the carved wood and leaning against them. Rordus met his intense gaze and resisted the desire to back down.

“Monsters of all kinds in the forests between here and the Harbor, and far more along the road of where-ever I travel. Half-City slavers, and the weather.”

“Right on two accounts, your third fear should be unknown entities. Whoever you meet, should you meet any soul on the path, will try to manipulate you or use you to their own ends. We may teach against such acts but our teachings are not global, unfortunately.

“That said. Help where you see fit. Your judgement is ultimately your own, and I trust you.”

Rordus nodded slowly, trying to memorize the information as he heard it and frowned a slight amount. “You said a path?” He asked. “Is that a specific path I need know about?”

Kristan gave a nod and smiled. “Since the days of the Voldani conquests, we Allards have had our special way of getting into the Harbor.”

Kristan straightened and moved around the table, closer to Allard at the southern end and tapped on the intricate carvings of mountaintops that surrounded the city capital Safe Harbor.

“It’s called the ‘Green Airway’. We first used it to ferry survivors from other sieges and supplies when needed. The only people who know of it are your mother, Obsidian, and I. And now you. It is marked on no maps, but is simple enough that crossing it just once will stamp it upon your memory.”

Rordus nodded along and watched the map, almost as if it moved with his fathers every motion.

“It runs from the mountains surrounding Highbrood, here.” He tapped the mountain scape southwest of the Harbor’s ‘Walls’. “It runs through the woods, and into the mountains. When you enter it you need make sure you are not followed. While I’m doubtful of any creatures hiding in wait with conscious and mind enough to chase you, it’s better safe than dead in the Airway.

“We can go over your route the day you leave, for now, as I’m sure your mother told you when she gave you those bruises, I am here to hone your mind. Teach you things necessary to living outside the mountains and outside the safety of Highbrood. Understood?”

“Yes father.” If Rordus were honest, he hadn’t paid much attention since he’d heard about the secret passage. His imagination had stolen whatever attention he’d feigned having. “Good. Let’s start with Courtly Manners.”

[marvelman901]

Journey Into Mystery vol 1 83 (1962) . The Mighty Thor and the Stone Men from Saturn! . Written by Stan Lee and Larry Lieber Penciled by Jack Kirby Inked by Joe Sinnott Colors by Stan Goldberg Lettered by Artie Simek Edited by Stan Lee . Introducing the Mighty Thor! . Donald Blake found a mysterious cane in a cave in Norway and after he had tapped the cane onto the ground, he turned into the Mighty Thunder God himself... . #origin #thor #donaldblake #kronans #stonemen #rock #60s #stanlee #stangoldberg #jackkirby #joesinnott #avengers #hammer #godofthunder #superhero #saturn https://www.instagram.com/p/ChNE4exM9PR/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[readorsigh]

I think a lot of people tend to view the endpoints of character's arcs in ADWD as their series arc endpoint which can be really unfair for someone like Tyrion who hasn't quite brought himself out of the hole of nihilism and despair he dug himself into in ASOS. He's getting there but it isn't really something that he's made too much headway on in ADWD itself. In fact a lot of the good things he does in the book he seems to be doing on narrative autopilot, not really thinking about or understanding why he's still doing those things (saving YG from the stonemen, bringing Penny along on the stinky steward, making sure Jorah is bought alongside him and Penny so they aren't separated and later making sure both of them escape with him when he runs to the Second Sons). And because he doesn't think too much about doing those things even as he does them, a lot of readers who are already poised to dislike Tyrion aren't willing to give him the benefit of the doubt

Okay I see a lot of people online talk about how much darker Tyrion’s character is in the books and while I definitely agree esp at the end of ASOS obviously, he’s very clearly starting on a redemption arc in ADWD? It makes me feel like people aren’t reading through the end? And I find it to be some of his best chapters and really interesting!

[hotmalecollection]

Anatoly Goncharov | Stonemen (Serge Lee)

http://hotmalecollection.tumblr.com/

[slovenlyrecordings]

Some new titles and a couple restocks in at Slovenly USA

The Hawaiian Steel Guitar LP was produced by Pat K from Boss Radio 66's "Make With The Shake" show and is an absolute must! These are the last copies of the first press. Check it out here:

A Chant About the Beauty of the Moon at Night: Hawaiian Steel Guitar Masters 1913-1921 by Magnificent Sounds Records

NEW:

ERIC DAVIDSON "WE NEVER LEARN: The Gunk Punk Undergut, 1998-2011" (Expanded Edition) BOOK

GREEN/BLUE "Offering" LP

VARIOUS ARTISTS "A Chant About the Beauty of the Moon at Night: Hawaiian Steel Guitar Masters 1913-1921" LP

THE D-VICES "Adequate/Modern Boy" 7"

STONEMEN "The "Brothers" Stonemen Late 66/Early 67" 7"

BACK IN STOCK:

THE GORLS "Fall In Love" LP (Repress)

BUCK BILOXI & THE FUCKS "Streets Of Rage" LP

[treu-im-herz]

🍂 Herbst 🌲 #herbst #autumn #breitachklamm #kleinwalsertal #alpen #waldliebe #wanderlust #steinmännchen #stonemen #heimatliebe #desbacheswiegenlied #liebe #wanttogoback #pagan #mystic #bregenzerwald #vorarlberg #silence #stille #wildlife #herbstanfang #meandyou #theoldgods #märchenwald #fairyforest (hier: Breitachklamm) https://www.instagram.com/p/BopD6TIFc4n/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1dnyvoaph106a