#thank you archer :(

[papanowo]

get a grip loverboy !!!

[aslice-ofcake]

WOOOOOOOO LOOK AT HIM!!!!!!!

commission for @classicteacake

[guild-museum]

wishes

[sharky-the-idiot]

Bugs when you lift up the rock

[chezlalune]

Thank you for everything.

WE ARE คือเรารักกัน (2024) PHUM & PEEM + LOVE LANGUAGES (4/5) — ACTS OF SERVICE

[klunkcat]

50 VAGUE ANGSTY + HURT/COMFORT DIALOGUE PROMPTS

7. "Did they hurt you?" gio + author's choice :3c

This is foul, just want to say! Not my fault!!!

Gioverse can be found here - this is n!mikey centered because its me <3

His first mistake, in a long line of many, was assuming he could leave for a few hours.

Gio had mentioned in the start-stop way of his that meant more half hedging implications of noticing something than ever an outright statement, that he’d never had broccoli and cheddar cheese soup before. This was, of course, a sin that Mikey had no choice but to right as soon as possible. He’d thought he could be in an out in thirty minutes, maybe an hour tops. Swing by April’s place after giving her a call, pick up the ingredients and head back. Easy peasy. 

He and Gio had really started to crack into his recipe book lately, and the thought was a syrupy sweet palpitation in his chest. Adding one more warm thing to the repertoire of lessons he was bundling the kid in seemed like a wonderful opportunity. 

Except, of course, he’d left Gio alone with them. 

It had been a long minute since Donnie had willingly left his lab, in his defense. More often than not Mikey had to brave the mess of cold wires and empty metal to try and bring dinner to his brother that he knew in his heart of hearts would be forgotten. And Raph rarely stayed in the Lair long enough to do anything other than sleep. He hadn’t thought— well, there was the crux of it. He hadn’t thought at all. 

Returning through the front door with bags of broccoli and the fancy kind of cheddar, he’d been thinking of warmth. Of getting that rare shy smile of Gio’s to shine through once again, just for the two of them. He’d been thinking of kitchen lights and music bouncing off walls, and not at all of the echoes or the empty rooms around them. 

“ – if you think, for one second that he’d– “

“That’s the problem!” Raph’s voice thunders. Mikey’s heart takes a sharp twist and tumbles straight down to the stone floor. “I don’t know anymore. You don’t either! Just— can we stop pretending?” 

A sharp, icy scoff. “Isn’t that what you’re best at, brother of mine? Or is that just Mikey. Should we ask him?”

“Don’t,” Raph growls back. 

“Or what! You’re not even here. Am I the only one who can’t do this? This thing where we act like we can make anything better just because he’s here—” Donnie’s voice pitches up, practically a roar by the end splintering off into a thousand barbs Mikey knew he’d wrap himself in the second that he could. But where is Gio? 

There’s a crash.

The bags fall from his hands to the floor. He takes in the fact Gio’s bedroom door is open, that the lights in the living room are on and— 

It’s all noise and color. Mikey barrelling through, skidding to a stop and registering just enough to note Raph’s balled fists, Donnie’s sharp glare, and Gio, standing just behind the couch, surrounded by shards of glass. Gio’s wide eyes, looking between his brother’s and over at Mikey like he isn’t sure there was anywhere left in the world for him to go. 

No one moves except for him.

He falls to his knees instantly, scooping Gio’s face in his shaking hands. “Are you— did they hurt you? Show me your hands, buddy, okay? I’ll check, I’ll make it better, you’re safe I promise, I—” 

Gio blinks, lets Mikey fuss and turn his hands all over, placating and malleable. There’s a tiny scrape on his knee that looks old, no cuts or nicks on his hands. No red or purple rising on his dark skin. Mikey closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against Gio’s for a shaky breath. 

He feels Gio’s hands reach up and press against his palms. “I’m okay,” he whispers after a moment, voice small and trying not to shake in the way that made his voice flatter. Younger. 

It doesn’t stop him from being terrified, because Gio had grown up somewhere Mikey didn’t know, where pinches and slaps had been handed out as easily as words. And it had taken Mikey all these hard months just to get the kid to stop scanning for exits in every room they stood in, and his brother’s had been yelling.

The thought slows, grinds to a halt. His brother’s had been yelling. About him. 

He makes himself lean back. Glances over at the rest of the room. 

Raph’s face is hollowed out. A complete study in guilt, one hand reaching forward almost unthinkingly. Like the smallest shard of an old Raphie had flickered through for a microsecond before vanishing on both of them. And Donnie– 

“We didn’t know he was here.” Don says, flat as ever. 

Mikey frowns, pulling Gio more firmly into his side. “That doesn’t make it okay.” 

There’s something strange to Donnie’s expression. Guilt? It can’t be. The loss of his twin had warped him so thoroughly that Mikey could never manage to fully understand, and he knows that this Donnie is a facsimile more often than his own person, but he’d thought… It isn’t a kind thought. It isn’t a thought he’s allowed to have anymore. 

“Mikey—” Raph tries, and some of the simmering anger Mikey makes sure he doesn’t have rises up between his breaths. 

“Don’t Mikey me. You were yelling about—” his voice catches, he makes it hold. “About me, right? You think I’m playing pretend. That I don’t know how bad we are.” He remembers that Gio’s here and holds onto the reminder like a buoy in the midst of all this disappointment and hurt, and the things they never say out loud anymore trying valiantly to fight their way through. “I’m not a stupid kid anymore, of course I know!” I know more than you, I know a thousand other worlds more than you, how badly we’re broken, I’ve seen them. 

His hurt crashes against him. “Of course I’m angry! I’m tired, and it’s so hard to try but I can do it  even if you can’t, and I am trying, so just. Stay the hell away and leave Gio out of this!” 

Raph’s face twists, his good eye dropping to the floor. “We thought. I thought he was with you. We wouldn’t hurt him.”

Gio’s warm and still bendable with his need to appease at Mikey’s side. It grounds him in all the same ways it makes all of this so much worse. Wouldn’t hurt him, except they’d yell and glare and avoid, right? Wouldn’t hurt him except that they didn’t know Gio thought he didn’t belong in the one place he should always feel safe. That he thought they hated him.

He opens his mouth, some boiling betrayal burning on his lips— 

“It’s my fault.” Donnie cuts in, still blank and stiff and sharp the way he always is, now. The admission is a tiny miracle nonetheless, and Mikey’s anger dies a quiet heat death in the center of himself. He doesn’t miss the tiny lurch in Gio’s breathing at his side, though. 

No one says anything for a long, horrid moment. Donnie looking straight through Mikey like he’s alone on a dying star; and it aches– it aches all the way through to know it’s an untouchable chill Mikey can’t ever break through even when he tries, and it’s worse to think that he’s used to it, but it’s familiar all the same. Don turns his head, hands flat at his side. 

“I’m the one who can’t do this.” Love right, he means. He doesn’t mean he can’t at all. 

Mikey pulls Gio closer, like he can shield him from the misunderstanding he knows will reach the kid anyways. He feels the words hit Gio, wash over him as Donnie leaves with a hiss of his lab door clicking firmly into place. 

He doesn’t mean it, Mikey thinks of saying helplessly. Except Donnie does mean everything he says, it just exists in stone blocks and hard data now and none of the softness has anywhere to stay. 

Raph watches Donnie leave, and lets out a long sigh. He rubs a hand over his face, and ages rapidly in a thousand eye bag lines all at once. “I’m sorry, kid,” Raph mumbles. Mikey’s not sure if he means Gio. He hasn’t been Raph’s kid in a long time. 

“It’s okay,” Gio says, stiff and quiet. Raph nods to himself, eye gazing emptily at anything but them, and shuffles himself off to his room. 

It’s them, again, like always. Mikey hates the fact he’s relieved enough to let himself untense— that his brother’s could ever exist in the same sentence as danger. It hurts to realize that his instincts have been wired backwards and inverted like this, in this reality Mikey couldn’t save anything from. 

He lets Gio go with a puff of breath and forces himself to stand, tries to find the strength in himself not to cry. There’s a light in him somewhere, still, but it’s different, too. 

Maybe he has been playing pretend in a type of way. Acting like he hadn’t changed as much as everyone else, too. 

Gio’s hand touches his, briefly. “Your knees.” 

He blinks. Oh. There’s blood, patches of it on the floor in between the glittering bits of glass. For a moment he worries that he had missed something after all, that Gio had been hurt— Gio stares nervously at Mikey’s legs where he’d crashed to his knees. 

There’s bloody tears in his pant legs. He doesn’t even feel it.

“Oops,” Mikey tries to laugh. It comes out wavering and pathetic. Gio bites his lip–  isn’t that a thought. All the yelling and the anger and the sheer brokenness of their family, and Gio looks like he might actually cry just over some scrapes from Mikey being stupid. He loves this kid so much it balloons right through him constantly in endlessly shocking ways. 

I’m sorry, Mikey thinks. He’s always sorry these days. “Let me get cleaned up, okay? Then, um. How about a new recipe? Think you’ll love it.” 

Gio looks like he wants to say something, closes his mouth instead. Smiles that tiny way Mikey would burn the world down for, instead. 

Maybe they’re both pretending, really. Maybe that’s all they can do. 

___

Gio grew up cold, it’s an inescapable reality he’s forged his understanding of the world around. There’s a bone deep chill that resides within most places, rooms for things that aren’t to be kept, and stern words meant to correct in straight neat lines. There’s no space for anything else. That’s the reality, kid. 

He’d spent most his life adapting, quick as he could to make the next deadline or the next drop. Make sure he was useful but not too important to be seen, to keep the jobs coming and food for the next day available. 

There was a point A to a point B, a quickest route forward. That’s all he needed. 

When Mikey found him a lot of that had been subsequently shaken apart. A lot of things suddenly meant staying, and promises, and bright room lights that held. Suddenly, food was fun and a given, and could be asked for, and there were laughs bubbling up and bouncing back to him, and warm hands against his cheeks asking ‘are you okay’ just to know. To check. 

He knew what being warm was because he knew the cold. He considered this a gift. 

There isn’t a single atom of himself that doesn’t ache with a deep homesickness he’s not sure he’s allowed to have every second that his Mikey is lost somewhere unreachable, but he is grateful. As much as he loves his family now, and their bright silly constant thrum of life everywhere he goes, he wouldn’t ever have chosen differently. 

If he was cold for nineteen years, it was so his big brother could burn bigger in comparison. 

His family now has plenty of warmth all on their own, but he tries to burn the same way for them all the same.

It’s funny, sometimes; his stomach twists with a fond ache that’s equal parts grief and absolute relief all in one that ties his words up somewhere else he can’t touch, but he misses his Mikey in the same way he loves this one. He wonders if Mikey knows how bright he is, that it’s the bravest thing he’s ever known. He’s also so small, here. Breakable in all the ways he bounces. It’s absolutely terrifying. 

Gio had been fighting in back alley scrapes and life or death battles since he was ten, but that doesn’t mean his little brother should. 

“Did they hurt you?” He asks, scanning absolutely every inch of Mikey’s arms and face he can see. He presses carefully at his sides, where the hard shell and plastron give way to more tender spaces. Mikey giggles instead of flinching, thank god. 

“Gogo~” Mikey complains, laughter bright on his cheeks. “I’ve been in bigger fights last week.” 

“You got thrown through a wall.” 

Mikey waves a hand. “Like, a little.” 

“No, he’s right,” Leo leans over Gio’s shoulder. “That sounded pretty rough. Anything dislocated?”

Gio hates the idea abruptly that any of them know what dislocation feels like, or that it’s regular enough it wouldn’t be obvious. 

“I’m fine, really! I pinky promise double swear.” 

Leo purses his lips. “With sprinkles on top?”  

Raph’s worry sensors must ping at the commotion, because Gio can hear him abruptly switching to Mikey fussing mode from the other room. Mikey’s expression darkens, Gio switches tactics. 

“You’re okay,” he decrees, with a tiny nod. “Soup will fix it.” 

Leo’s muffled snort is worth it for the way Mikey’s eyes light up. 

“Oh! I have broccoli I’ve been meaning to use.” He immediately jumps up, luckily confirming he is in fact just fine in the same motion, and instinctively puts both hands on Gio’s cheeks with excitement. “Oh mama, you have no idea what can of worms you’ve just unleashed. I’m going to make so much soup. How about a new recipe? I think you’ll love it.” 

Gio’s heart does something funny. 

“I’m sure I will,” he smiles back. Warm enough for all of them.

[archerinventive]

One Year Later.

One year ago while watching the Ignition Fire show at Midsummer Renaissance Faire, I exclaimed to my friends and family "I want to do that...I'm going to do that!"

As a longtime member of the faire I'd been watching the troupe perform for a few years, but due to life events hadn't had the bandwidth to join, but in that moment something felt different.

Jump forward a year, and I did it!! I got to fulfill my dream of performing with Ignition on the Midsummer arena, and words can not express how amazing that felt.

While I, and many others were sad to hear the news that we would not be performing at Midsummer for weekend 2 & 3 I still feel so fortunate to have had the chance to live out my dreams of performing with Ignition on that stage.

A huge thank you to all the fans who came out to support us, to Ignition for giving me the skills to live out my dreams as a fire breathing dragon, and to Midsummer for supplying such a great venue for folks to gather.

While I do not know what the future has to hold, I'll always be grateful to have had the chance to fulfil a dream of mine, and for all the new friends I've made along the way.

For those who would like to see Ignition perform, or would like to help us fundraise for our upcoming show at Burning Man please consider donating HERE.

Our fundraising venue recently burned down (not due to troupe activities) so any little bit helps.

Also, a huge thank you to Angel González Rivera & Alexandra Triplett for capturing these photos. My mom was hoping to catch my performance the second weekend, but due to recent events, these may be the only photos of me performing with the group at Midsummer, so having them to share means so much. Thank you both! ❤️

See you all at many more fire shows to come. 🔥

[beepborpdoodledorp]

maybe I’m giving them too much credit but sometimes CRK’s socials make me wonder if their admins actually give a shit about the games outside of their jobs as PR management. Like if you showed me this out of context I’d definitely believe it came from an actual fan rather than the official account. At the very least the admins care enough to put in more effort than the average promo account and honestly? Respect. It must take them a lot of willpower to keep up with our bs

[mylittleredgirl]

i need the four people on this website who have both watched mash and star trek enterprise to understand the vision that i just had, and it's that colonel flagg is a temporal agent like daniels from enterprise. both of them were clearly in the bottom 10% at temporal agent school, maybe even roommates, which is why the temporal cold war is such a mess that only gets progressively worse every time daniels touches it, and the mash 4077 can't get un-stuck from the korean war for 11 goddamn years. they are very bad at their jobs. this is also why ***gestures to colonel flagg's whole deal that is clearly not endorsed by the CIA*** and why daniels tried to convince captain archer that he was a trustworthy person from the future because "you like your scrambled eggs soft."

this is the deepest cut i think i could make but i have made it.

[hitsuyou-fukaketsu]

[projectjasper]

So completely random ask that you don't expect at all but, what do you think would be Peem's favorite Vam Gogh painting? And Phum's? Because I do believe that as soon as he finds out he is Peem's favorite artist he would go on a research spiral and would like him too.

Bonus, any head canons about Q and Toey's favorite artist/painting?

🫡

thank you so much for this completely random ask that i didn't expect at all!! 😌🫶

PEEM

asking an artist about his favourite work by his favourite painter is like asking a (good) parent who their favourite child is. but i think there are a couple of paintings i could definitely highlight for peem!

first of all and painfully obviously, many of the water-related ones, whether it be the ones focused on it:

Seascape at Saintes-Maries (F415). 1888. Oil on canvas. Seascape at Saintes-Maries (F417). 1888. Oil on canvas.

or with it present:

Fishing in Spring (F354). 1887. Oil on canvas. The Seine with the Pont de la Grande Jette (F304). 1888. Oil on canvas. The Langlois Bridge at Arles with Women Washing (F397). 1888. Oil on canvas.

the colours, the way the movement is portrayed, and really all the details in the water would really captivate peem, i think.

i believe he would also have a special relationship with the portraits - both those vincent made of others and those he made of himself:

Portrait of Armand Roulin (F492). 1888. Oil on canvas. Self-Portrait with Pipe (F180). 1886. Oil on canvas.

who isn't partial to a bit of armand roulin at the end of the day (and the entire roulin family in general, honestly, who were vincent's dear friends). i think this particular painting might be peem's favourite portrait vincent had ever done of someone else, with it's bright colours and bold strokes, as it really shows that one does not have to be overly-academic in their portrayal of people, while still remaining true to their appearance.

out of vincent's self-portraits, on the other hand, i think he would prefer one of the earlier ones from 1886. perhaps because they were the first steps of vincent's in portraying himself or perhaps because they are "less impressionist / post-impressionist" for the lack of a better term and are therefore not as affected by vincent's self-flagellating image of himself (his self-portrait dedicated to gauguin, for instance, is quite haunting, and it alone reflects a lot of the horrors of that time in vincent's life and of their relationship).

for a final, perhaps a little more random one, i will say vincent's studies of weavers in 1884:

Weaver Facing Right (F162). 1884. Oil on canvas on panel. Weaver, Seen From the Front (F30). 1884. Oil on canvas.

there are dozens of these, by the way. these are just two examples. how many weavers vincent painted is unclear (it could be just the one, it could be the same one many times and some other sporadically - who's to say), but he loved coming to their shop and watching them work. he was so enraptured by them, he even wrote his brother theo that he should come and watch them some time as well. peem certainly loves a theme and being randomly captivated by men isn't a foreign concept to him either (/hj), not to mention that this series is one of vincent's first major steps in art and reflects a lot of the values and inspirations he carried through his entire oeuvre (if you see a van gogh landscape and there is a plower or some other worker portrayed in it, even in the distance - you can be sure that they were the subject of the painting, not the nature: workers meant the world to vincent).

all this said, however, i do really think you could send any van gogh in and i'd be like "yeah, peem loves this one! [this] is why!" djkgjhdflkjgjlkfdg

PHUM

i fully agree that phum would get into van gogh simply for the sake of supporting his boyfriend, but i've also been known to make some parallels between their lives, and i do really think that the more phum finds out about him, the more he will be interested in him as a person, while maybe not being as knowledgable about the art. so his two favourites would be of the more famous variety and connected to vincent's biography in some special way.

the first painting (or, i suppose, paintings) he would love would be the bedroom, any of the three iterations:

Vincent's Bedroom in Arles (F482). 1888. Oil on canvas. Vincent's Bedroom in Arles (F483). 1889. Oil on canvas. Vincent's Bedroom in Arles (F484). 1889. Oil on canvas.

there is a lot to be said about this painting. the presence of two pillows and two chairs mirroring vincent's yearning for a partner in loneliness. the very history of his time in arles, trying to create a space for artists and find friends, but only ending up stumbling upon one despicable man who caused the worst breakdown of his life. and the fact that - a decade after vincen't passing - one of these paintings contributed to his sister willemien's treatment for her own issues with mental health, and it was the accommodations and help that selling vincent's works (including the bedroom) provided that made sure she did not pass away tragically early like her two brothers and lived until the age of seventy nine instead.

i would imagine he would also be rather partial to almond blossoms:

Blossoming Almond Tree (F671). 1890. Oil on canvas.

vincent painted it in honour of his nephew, his brother theo and sister-in-law jo's first child. first of all, it's really really pretty, and second of all, i think phum would find vincent's immediate dedication to this newborn child very endearing, for obvious trauma-related reasons. "imagine if one of the adults from my family cared about me so much that they made an entire painting, just for me!"

and i think he might love all the water-related painting as well, simply because that is peem's subject and he always pays special attention to any paintings that portray it.

TOEY

i will admit, i am fairly limited by my expertise here, as i essentially only have in-depth knowledge about van gogh, his inspirations and european contemporaries, as well as his sister-in-law jo's. with that said, and considering the fact that we haven't seen much of toey's works and he is clearly still soul-searching in terms of his own art, i think he would really like edgar degas. he painted (and sculpted) ballerinas a lot and there is just something about toey that immediately makes me think of degas's most common subjects.

Dancers in Blue. 1890. Oil on canvas. Blue Dancers. 1897. Pastel on paper.

as for toey's favourite van gogh, i don't know why this is where my brain went, but it immediately went "omg, the rats!!"

Two Rats (F177). 1884. Oil on panel.

perhaps i thought of it because it's such a cute random little van gogh from an earlier period, when he hadn't yet truly found his unique style, and i think it would be equally charming and endearing to toey, who is still not quite there himself.

Q

even with my previously mentioned limited expertise, i feel like q's favourite painter would be some niche but supremely talented modern artist few people have heard of. don't get me wrong, he definitely has an appreciation for the greats, but considering his art style and his own maestro status, i think he is chin-deep in all sorts of modern art and that's where most of his inspiration lies. i do think it's still more traditional-leaning modern art though (rather than your more statement-based modern art).

in terms of his favourite van goghs, i feel like he likes the "edgier" stuff, such as:

Skull with Burning Cigarette (F212). 1885/1886. Oil on canvas. Skull (F297). 1888. Oil on canvas.

and, as a huge art nerd, i definitely think he's got a whole speech prepared on how the drawings are just as important as the paintings as well, and he would probably highlight something like these:

Worn Out (F997). 1882. Pencil on paper. Sorrow (F929a). 1882. Pencil, pen, and ink on paper.

[falconfate]

Hello ranger’s apprentice fandom can we talk real quick about the stupidest thing Flanagan ever wrote

It’s about the bows. Yanno, the rangers’ Iconique™️ main weapon. That one. You know the one.

Flanagan. Flanagan why are your rangers using longbows.

“uh well recurve arrows drop faster” BUT DO THEY. FLANAGAN. DO THEY.

the answer is no they don’t. Compared to a MODERN, COMPOUND (aka cheating) bow, yes, but compared to a longbow? Y’know, what the rangers use in canon? Yeah no a recurve actually has a FLATTER trajectory. It drops LATER.

This from an article comparing the two:

“Both a longbow and a recurve bow, when equipped with the right arrow and broadhead combination, are capable of taking down big game animals. Afterall, hunters have been doing it for centuries with both types of bows.

However, generally speaking and all things equal, a recurve bow will offer more arrow speed, creating a flatter flight trajectory and retain more kinetic energy at impact.

The archers draw length, along with the weight of the arrow also affect speed and kinetic energy. However, the curved design of the limbs on a recurve adds to its output of force.”

It doesn’t actually mention ANY distance in range! And this is from a resource for bow hunting, which, presumably, WOULD CARE ABOUT THAT SORT OF THING!

Okay so that’s just. That’s just the first thing.

The MAIN thing is that even accounting for “hur dur recurves drop faster” LONGBOWS ARE STILL THE STUPID OPTION.

Longbows, particularly and especially ENGLISH longbows, are—as their name suggests—very long. English longbows in particular are often as tall or taller than their wielder even while strung, but especially when unstrung. An unstrung longbow is a very long and expensive stick, one that will GLADLY entangle itself in nearby trees, other people’s clothes, and any doorway you’re passing through.

And yes, there are shorter longbows, but at that point if you’re shortening your longbow, just get a goddamn recurve. And Flanagan makes a point to compare his rangers’ bows to the Very Long English Longbow.

Oh, do you know how the Very Long English Longbow was mostly historically militarily used? BY ON-FOOT ARCHER UNITS. Do you know what they’re TERRIBLE for? MOUNTED ARCHERY.

Trust me. Go look up right now “mounted archery longbow.” You’ll find MAYBE one or two pictures of some guy on a horse struggling with a big stick; mostly you will actually see either mounted archers with RECURVES, or comparisons of Roman longbow archers to Mongolian horse archers (which are neat, can’t lie, I love comparing archery styles like that).

Anyway. Why are longbows terrible for mounted archery? Because they’re so damn long. Think about it: imagine you’re on a horse. You’re straddling a beast that can think for itself and moves at your command, but ultimately independently of you; if you’re both well-trained enough, you’re barely paying attention to your horse except to give it commands. And you have a bow in your hands. If your target is close enough to you that you know, from years of shooting experience, you will need to actually angle your bow down to hit it because of your equine height advantage, guess what? If you have a longbow, YOU CAN���T! YOUR HORSE IS IN THE WAY BECAUSE YOUR BOW IS TOO LONG! Worse, it’s probably going to get in the general area of your horse’s shoulder or legs, aka moving parts, which WILL injure your horse AND your bow and leave you fresh out of both a getaway vehicle and a ranged weapon. It’s stupid. Don’t do it.

A recurve, on the other hand, is short. It was literally made for horse archers. You have SO much range of motion with a recurve on horseback; and if you’re REALLY good, you know how to give yourself even more, with techniques like Jamarkee, a Turkish technique where you LITERALLY CAN AIM BACKWARDS.

For your viewing enjoyment, Serena Lynn of Texas demonstrating Jamarkee:

Yes, that’s real! This type of draw style is INCREDIBLY versatile: you can shoot backwards on horseback, straight down from a parapet or sally port without exposing yourself as a target, or from low to the ground to keep stealthy without banging your bow against the ground. And, while I’m sure you could attempt it with a longbow, I wouldn’t recommend it: a recurve’s smaller size makes it far more maneuverable up and over your head to actually get it into position for a Jamarkee shot.

A recurve just makes so much more SENSE. It’s not a baby bow! It’s not the longbow’s lesser cousin! It’s a COMPLETELY different instrument made to be used in a completely different context! For the rangers of Araluen, who put soooo much stock in being stealthy and their strong bonds with their horses, a recurve is the perfect fit! It’s small and easily transportable, it’s more maneuverable in combat and especially on horseback, it offers more power than a longbow of the same draw weight—really, truly, the only advantage in this case that a longbow has over the recurve is that longbows are quicker and easier to make. But we KNOW the rangers don’t care about that, their KNIVES use a forging technique (folding) that takes several times as long as standard Araluen forging practices at the time!

Okay.

Okay I think I’m done. For now.

[sbd-laytall]

Clark. Come on. I'm so sorry. Sorry, Clark. Please. Clark. Clark, can you hear me? I couldn't stop myself.

Smallville | 8.01 | "Odyssey"

[soldrawss]

Hi. I love Gio.

Give him some therapy and a hug for me, m'kay??

@goodlucktai you heard them! More hugs for gio please!

(But FR thank you for loving him! We are giving him lots of hugs and love and appreciation, it is our ONE goal for this story, and that's that Gio knows he is loved)

[leodeserti]

★☆I love the details in this set☆

[athenaareia]

the butterfly effect is an interesting thing. because if i'd never been raised on cheesy romance movies and if i had never discovered taylor swift songs, i would never become this sack of hopeless romantic.

and if i wasn't this sack of hopeless romantic, bye bye to every perpollo thing i have ever written. seriously, even the ones with background or minor perpollo. so basically almost any fic on my profile.