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eggbreadboi · 8 months

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F1 Wing AU partial modern lineup pt. 1/?

written in the vague style of a news article profile type deal to try and convey attitudes of the au's world.

55-Carlos Sainz-Ferrari Spanish Imperial Eagle With the second largest wings on the grid in 2021, Sainz is a powerful placement as Ferrari's number two. While less promising in straight-line speed than his teammate, his lift advantage at takeoff and the edge his large frame grants him in defending from overtakes makes him a formidable opponent. A common Ferrari issue, pseudo-territorial disputes between raptors have been avoided thus far due to Carlos's friendly demeanor, even when things are tense on the track.

16-Charles Leclerc-Ferrari Peregrine Falcon They call him "Il Predestinato". Despite their informal policy of hiring only the most promising raptor racers, Charles is the first peregrine falcon Ferrari has seen is a while. His wings paired with improved tech bring the promise of record breaking speed but thus far he's been hampered by mechanical failures and a team seemingly incapable of tailoring their jet engines to individual racers. The PR team on the other hand focuses on Charles a fair bit, doing everything in their power to flaunt his airborne grace when he is out of his gear.

3-Daniel Ricciardo-McLaren Blue-Winged Kookaburra The Honeybadger. Picked up by McLaren after leaving Red Bull, Daniel continues his streak of being an unorthodox pick, jumping from one team which favors raptors to another. He seems to make up for any doubts with his direct flight style and powerful wings which provide surprising edge during takeoff. The bright blue of his feathers is a welcome spot of color among the grays and browns dominating the grid, and the contrast between his bright, jovial appearance and his flight style does a lot to live up to his nickname. 33-Max Verstappen-Red Bull Northern Goshawk Number three in the wing size rankings and boasting wings capable of both great strength and great precision, Max Verstappen is viewed as a true born and bred racer. He's an imposing figure in Red Bull advertisements, but behind the scenes, the up-and-coming champion deals with controversy around his ascension to F1. Focused on the fact that at 17, when he joined with Red Bull, Max had not yet molted into his first set of adult flight feathers, the controversy around health and safety regulations for young fliers being extended to F1 forced the Fia to set age limits for racers. Max has spent his early career trying to avoid being the face of a safety scandal, and instead focused on leaning into his reputation as the inevitable future champion of the new generation.

44-Lewis Hamilton-Mercedes AMG Violet Backed Starling The greatest of them all, standing out on the track and off. This carries over to his wings as well, the brightest and most colorful on the grid. The iridescent purples of his feathers make a real statement in promotional materials, and on track, making him easy to keep track of throughout the race. His partnership with Nico Rosberg(Turtledove), one of few high performing lineups to not feature a raptor racer, at Mercedes cemented the team as one of those opposed to wing type requirements and favoring a more personalized, precision built approach to jet propulsion gear. 5-Sebastian Vettel-Aston Martin Grey Headed Albatross The racer with the largest wings on the grid. Sebastian's greatest edge is his endurance, outpacing the others on the grid by large margins on the longer circuits. The press often swirls with speculation about a future career in endurance racing, though Sebastian has proved very able to employ his advantage in the faster paced world of F1. Despite struggling at takeoff, the strength of Sebastian's wings is formidable, and his wingspan allows him to safely focus on a more offensive flight style. His tenure at Aston Martin has been somewhat disappointing, but the German has effectively made the most of it, bringing a friendly nature to the paddock, living up to the faithful and steady reputation of an albatross in his later years on the grid. He's known to take days long flights over the ocean after races. The press hasn't been able to catch up (not for lack of trying). 7-Kimi Raikkonen-Alfa Romeo Razorbill Auk The Iceman, with the wings of a bird that lives in cold arctic and subarctic seas. Like his friend Sebastian, Kimi struggles at takeoff, but in flight he is as swift as a bullet. A masterful, experienced flier who excels at overtaking other racers, Kimi was one of a couple high profile, successful exemptions to Ferrari's informal raptor-only sign-on policy. Now at Alfa Romeo, the Finn has found a team more willingly to adapt to his flight style, though mechanical limitations have hampered his results.

22-Yuki Tsunoda-Alpha Tauri Bull-headed Shrike A rookie in the 2022 season, Yuki is a strong, decisive flier who makes full use of Alpha Tauri's status as a sister team used for experimental jet gear designs to push for gear that plays to his strengths and makes up for his comparative lack of endurance. Yuki's wings short and allow for great maneuverability and an advantage during overtaking, though this same trait forces him to be very actively defensive when another racer comes up behind. 10-Pierre Gasly-Alpha Tauri Red Rumped Swallow His wings are perfect for rapid maneuvers and needlepoint turns, similar to Yuki, and Pierre joins his teammate in squeezing the most out of the Alpha Tauri machines. They work well together, thanks to their similar preferences with regards to jet gear. Pierre is a true classic racer, a well liked younger member of the grid, and very popular with marketing. His and Yuki's near-matching plumage colors are often shown off in photo-ops.

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violetsiren90 · 9 months

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Stolen Tides

(A What the Moon Saw Drabble)

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: Drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; childhood friends; old flames rekindled, angst and fluff

Summary: Time is the great force - it changes everything. The ebb and flow of the tide. The fullness of the moon. It carves mountains, and quiets storms...but it stands powerless in the face of love.

Content Warnings: PG-13, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; nudity, implied sex, cooking and eating food, mention of minor character death, kissing, cuddling, working through feelings, tears are shed (it's them, so, of course, lol)

Author's note: I literally just posted a poll asking which drabble I should write first, and their first meeting won (which I was stoked about), but then this popped into my head and I just wrote it. I wrote it while I was supposed to be submitting a project with a deadline, because, in the words of MYG, I'm bad boi. But...I had to. I gave them their ending because they deserved it. 💕 (If you've never read the one-shot this universe takes place in, I recommend starting there!)

And as always, if no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

*Stolen tide: Occurs when weather and wind conditions suppress the ebb of a flood tide and then the next high tide washes in bringing even higher levels.

Your lids raised and dipped and raised again, like linens in a summer breeze, as your eyes came into focus. Soft late-morning light spilled through the window onto the golden-brown planks of the oaken floor. The western-facing window was open, and the thin curtains billowed inward with each puff of salty air cresting over the hill off the distant waves. Your eyes tracked a spider plant swaying from where its macrame harness was secured to a hook in the spackled ceiling. You shifted in the white sheets of the queen-size bed to glance around you. The room was small and minimally furnished, but everything within it seemed significant to its tenant. There was a little bookshelf propping up a guitar, and a roll-top desk bearing an open journal and coffee mug. On the other side was a nightstand with an antique lamp perched beside a book splayed open on its face and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. On the far end was a dresser with pretty little mother-of-pearl knobs topped with two potted succulents and an abstract of an albatross in flight, and the accordion door of a closet cracked open to reveal neatly stored clothes and shoes.

You tossed yourself back against the pillows with a sigh, a smile spreading slowly across your face as images from the previous night developed in the morning light like Polaroid pictures. You reached out to brush a hand over the sheets where he had slept beside you, as naked as you were now. You'd awakened in the middle of the night to find that you'd taken all the covers and to see him, laying there on his stomach - his sweet little ass pale and perfectly bare in the moonlight. You chuckled and bit your lip, slipping out of bed to pull on panties and snatch a flannel from the closet and drape it over your body, pushing up the sleeves to bunch around your elbows. He had always worn his shirts too big, and it dipped down to your mid thighs as your legs carried you toward the scents of garlic and gochujang wafting down the hall.

The kitchen was as simple in its loveliness as the rest of the little house, pale yellow light pouring through the large windows over a vase of poppies on a table flanked by two chairs. And a man who used to be a boy was standing at the other end of the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes in a way that made you question if a single day had passed. Yoongi stood at the little stove in a white tee and grey sweats, his dark hair sticking up every which way and his face puffy from sleep. You had to press a hand to your lips to keep from giggling at his appearance, and when he glanced up you found yourself unable to conceal an amused and extremely endeared grin.

“What?” he asked in sleepy suspicion, his brows up and knitted together as his lips dropped into a pout.

Thirty-two and as cute as he had ever been. You chuckled as you circled around his left, where you turned towards him and slipped your body between his and the stove. Wrapping your arms around his back as he looked down, you regarded him. The same. He looked just the same. His features were a bit more defined, the soft cheeks having sharpened at his cheekbones and jawline, and he was broader and thicker with longer hair that curled at the base of his neck. But his eyes with the dark lashes, his petal pink lips...the way they felt on you...he was the same. You lifted your face to place the gentlest kisses on every feature - the ones that had changed and the ones that hadn't.

He let out a soft hum, his left arm slipping around your waist as he shifted you slightly to the side, prodding at the contents of the pan with the wooden spoon in his right hand.

“The food will burn,” he chided lightly.

But his eyes creased at the corners and his mouth seemed to hover on the verge of a smile. You twisted to glance at the pork belly fried rice before nestling yourself back into him, your head on his chest.

“Smells good,” you murmured into his shirt.

“Mm. It’s just leftovers,” he replied, in the warm, even tone that pierced your heart like a forgotten melody.

You pressed back the tears that threatened to come. The moon had seen enough of those last night.

"You were always good at cooking, like your mom,” you sighed into his tee.

He didn't reply, but he tucked his cheek against your head, his thumb dragging his shirt up and down your back in tiny tender motions. You held him and he held you, and the pork fat sizzled on the stove, and a wind chime tinkled outside the kitchen window, and far off and down the ocean broke against the rocks.

And then he slowly drew you away from his chest so that he could see your face, his eyes meeting yours with the soft wet glimmer of joy and sadness at once, like the soil after a rainfall - that damp warmth from which beautiful things grow - and you buried yourself there, like a seed dropped from the sky by a bird. Dropped on the side of a cliff by the sea.

Between mouthfuls of fried rice and kimchi eggs, you told him about college. About your passion for your chosen career. About meeting a boy who wasn't him, who had asked you to be his wife. About how you had chosen a dress and sent out invitations and then said no. Yoongi nodded quietly, but didn't ask why. Then he told you about how his father had succumbed to pneumonia a few years ago, and his mother had moved back to Korea and remarried. You nodded and asked him why he stayed. He shrugged as he pushed his rice around his plate.

"Want to see something?" he asked with a shy smile, as he dried his hands from washing a final dish.

You nodded, smiling when he took your hand to lead you out of the kitchen door and into the yard at the side of the little house. Ice plant and poppies sprang up among the rocks and sandy dirt, disrupted by a cobbled path leading to a periwinkle blue shed only half as large as the house behind you. Yoongi opened the door.

Inside was warm and the air aglow with little floating specks that caught the light, which you quickly realized, as you glanced around, were flecks of saw dust. It was a workshop. In reverent awe you took in the beautiful pieces crafted from oak, walnut, pine, and redwood. There was a bench, a coffee table, a mirror frame, cutting boards, a spice rack. In and amongst the tools and work surfaces, there were handmade treasures against the walls and stacked on shelves. You took a seat in a sanded-down rocking chair.

"You made all this?" You asked in disbelief.

Yoongi shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats, casting proud but bashful eyes over the room.

"I make them to order. Although, you did find the one thing in here that I started for myself."

You felt warmth fill your chest because you thought he looked a little proud. You swayed in the chair, tucking your legs up under you.

"It's beautiful, Yoongi. All of it. You're incredibly talented."

"You started it, you know," he said with a smile, still not meeting your eyes. You cocked your head to the side in question. "You gave me that whittling kit for my birthday."

He shuffled over to a workbench and took a small object in his hand. He approached you, holding it out, and you took it. You turned the little curved knife over in your hands, brushing your thumb over the faded little heart inscribed in pink paint.

"You wanted me to have something to do with my hands, so I would stop biting my nails," he replied, taking the knife back from you and regarding it with warm eyes as he set it aside.

"You remember that?" You let out a laugh.

"I remember everything," he said.

He said it like an oath...one you had once sworn. He was looking down at you, and suddenly you were on a little ledge under the stars, and he was pulling you into a kiss, and making love to you, and telling you to run and not look back. Yoongi, your Yoongi. You breathed his name, and he reached for your hands, pulling you up and against him as his lips found yours. He kissed you tenderly and fiercely. He kissed you all the way back to his bedroom where he laid you down in the soft white cotton and made up for lost time.

The sun made its way over hill and down into the western waters, and all the while you stayed wrapped in the sanctuary of each others' bodies, only leaving his bed twice - once to shower together and another time to share a bowl of bibim guksu and some tangerines from the tree in the yard. Now the moon's waning crescent peeped through the curtains to see you laying tangled in Yoongi's arms, his forehead pressed to yours, as he asked a question to which he didn't want the answer.

"When are you leaving?" His voice was low and soft and deep, so resonant...but you could hear what it lacked, what he was holding back.

"Why do I have to leave?" You murmured, tracing a place over his chest where your lips had once left a bruise.

The skin had healed long since, but not what laid beneath. Yoongi sighed through his nose, his breath tickling your chin and chest.

"What does this place hold for you?" he asked, his voice strained, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw as his thumb brushed over your chin. "Just pain and sadness. You got out of here, you're free."

A tear slipped over the bridge of your nose and onto the pillow.

"I might have left, but my heart never did," you whispered, your voice shaking as years of never forgetting filled the expanse of your chest. "And it never will," you murmured through a little sob.

You pushed yourself back so that you could see his beautiful watery brown eyes and wet cheeks as you asked him a question to which you already knew the answer.

"Why didn't you leave?" Another tear slipped down his face as he looked at you. "Why, Yoongi? Why didn't you leave? Tell me, Yoongi. Say it. Why didn't you l-"

His mouth was on yours, and he kissed you back into the sheets as your tears mingled. He kissed you and he kissed you and when his lips finally left yours by a centimeter he whispered his answer against them.

The moon had seen him find you, and lose you. Now it saw you tell him you would never leave his side.

Some weeks later it sent you both off in a packed-up car (with a rocking chair strapped to the top), as it faded in the light of the rising sun, to start a new part - the best part - of the story of the boy and the girl on the cliffside...

...The part where they lived together, and in happiness, until the end of their days.

-Fin-

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reides · 5 months

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leaving alola behind him, reides the kingdra headed for generation 8 of the pokemon games in his quest for more ribbons! gen8 of these games feature the galar region (via pokemon sword and shield) as well as the sinnoh region (via pokemon brilliant diamond and shining pearl)! this leap to gen8 was super alarming, as my beloved kingdra moved from the 3ds to the current nintendo console - namely, the nintendo switch! it's crazy to think about how this whole journey began on my copy of emerald version, slotted into my pleasantly clunky brick of a grey ds.

reides' journey through the generations has been filled with its highs and its lows, but once he arrived safely in pokemon home, it meant that i could be a bit flexible with my approach to the ribbons available in swsh and bdsp! (it also meant bidding farewell to my shoddy photos of my (3)ds screen for these posts... they will be missed...)

anyway, before i get into the story of reides' gen8 journey, i gotta do my customary shoutout to all the other parts of his ribbon master quest. it's really easy this time around, as i finally put together an index for these posts on my personal site! you can find it here! that page also has a lot of information about the challenge itself, along with some helpful resources if you'd like to take it on. as always, you can also peek in my ribbon master tag on this blog, too.

if you're all caught up with the story so far, it's time to get started on a brand new chapter.

transferring reides into my copy of pokemon shield was a really emotional experience. kingdra looks absolutely gorgeous on the switch, and i was blown away by how awesome the shiny form looks, too. this moment on the beach at sunset - with a galarian slowpoke and a kingler lurking close by - felt pretty cinematic. it was also really nice to see my trainer character again! i absolutely love all of the different fashion items available in swsh. immediately, i knew that i had to make my ribbon mastery team a big ol' pot of curry for all of their hard work thus far.

we also played together while we camped out. i was really glad that i was already in shield's post-game, as it saved a whole lot of time on this ribbon master journey AND meant that i'd have tons of toys for my pokemon at my disposal.

after goofing around for hours, i finally decided to take on the first ribbon available in galar. this ribbon was the galar champion ribbon, which your pokemon receive upon entering the galarian hall of fame. i ended up needing to play through the galarian star tournament first, though, as i had procrastinated on doing that for the longest time... so reides ended up taking part in a few more battles than one would think!

it was absolutely awesome to see dynamax in action with reides! it made me wish that kingdra got a gigantamax form, but i guess that would be a bit too amazing for anyone to handle, huh? while taking on this ribbon, i also realized just how much i missed the vibes of the gym challenge in the galar region. the wide stadiums, the cheering crowds, the MUSIC... all of it is so incredibly top-tier and it really got me pumped up! not to mention seeing the absolutely INCREDIBLE cast in action. shoutout to everyone but especially piers. all hail the reigning king of the pokemon punks.

anyway, reides was eventually able to sweep his way to victory in both the galarian star tournament as well as the league battles. he joined the hall of fame and got the galar champion ribbon!

with that handled, it was time to take on galar's battle tower. according to most, this battle tower is an absolute cake-walk, as you can dynamax while most of your opponents (barring leon) can't. it was just a matter of buckling down and spending the time required to amass your wins. as a result, i ended up abandoning the tried and true durant strat and instead took the og trio of albatross, origin and reides, himself, along for the ride.

hilariously enough, i ran into ONE road-block in this tower in the form of a shedinja which i could literally not attack. i had NO moves that could get past its guard... sobs. but another nice thing about the galarian battle tower is that it isn't streak-dependent, instead swapping over to a system relying on ranking up or ranking down. so i brushed off this shedinja encounter without letting it get to me all that much, haha! i also taught albatross shadow ball... just in case.

ribbons also got a bit of an upgrade in the switch games of pokemon. no longer limited to just being pretty graphics on the ribbon screen, you can now equip one ribbon on your pokemon and give it a little title every time you send it out in battle. i equipped the ribbon that reides got for mastering all of the contests in omega ruby, which granted him the title of 'shining star'!

it was so nice to see it every time i sent him out, but i can definitely see myself swapping between all the various titles at reides' disposal!

my climb to the master ball rank was fairy uneventful, though i really understood this child's plight. it's how i felt many times while in various battle towers during this ribbon master journey.

eventually, i made it through the rank itself and got to the final battle against leon. though i had faced him at the end of each rank prior to this moment, it still felt very intense to encounter him knowing that this was my very last battle tower match for the forseeable future. also, his battle tower outfit is SO DRIPPY. love him so much.

not gonna lie, it was pretty funny seeing him say something so inspiring while looking so sad (and the snowscape from one of dynamax-form reides' attacks really added to it). leon is an absolutely amazing character and one of my fav champions ever, though, so i was thrilled that he got to be the final match in my battle tower saga!

even though the swsh battle tower was WAY easier than the others that i faced, i was still so happy to be done with it. my goodness. i really went from ignoring the battle towers in the series to gaining streaks of ~50 in each and every one... it's kind of unreal. reides truly earned the title of 'tower master'!

upon getting the tower master ribbon, we were done with galar. i was sure to make my pokemon team some more curry before they set off for sinnoh! but i honestly wasn't too torn up about leaving galar, as pokemon home lets us shift pokemon between the switch games however we'd like. after so many one-way transfers out of prior generations, it felt kind of surreal - and was also a huge relief.

this cute curry wasn't the only treat that got eaten, either! i made some pokemon cookies in Real Life to celebrate, as well. i used cookie cutters from the official pokemon store to make these pikachu and munchlax cookies!

i then set my sights on the remake of diamond version... pokemon: brilliant diamond!

the last time reides visited sinnoh, he did so via my childhood copy of diamond version. as i wrote in my post about the gen4 part of reides' journey, this copy of the game was already in the post-game, so i didn't have to play through any of diamond's plot whatsoever when he arrived. however... for this sinnoh visit, i actually didn't have a post-game available! despite owning brilliant diamond since the day it released, i had barely played it. (fun fact: in my first run of the game, i ran into a shiny bidoof on my very first night playing it. i ended up transferring all of the pokemon in it - bidoof included - to pokemon home and restarting it, though, as i was toying with the idea of doing a shiny starter hunt... and then i simply never touched it. so i guess restarting it was actually a waste of time. weeps.) i knew that i'd need to play through its plot to get the ribbon that reides needed, so... you know what that meant.

it was time for a whole other adventure to begin.

i decided to keep reides in the pc for the storyline part of this playthrough. i wanted to raise a team of pokemon from the sinnoh region, and i knew that reides' status as a fully ev and iv trained pokemon at level 100 meant that he would absolutely STEAMROLL the plot. we still went on walks together very often though, and he had his pal hammer the garchomp in the pc for company! (i usually raise a garchomp for my sinnoh teams, as it's one of my fav pokemon in the sinnoh region, but i decided to try to resist this time around and limit myself to pokemon that i had never raised before!)

i absolutely loved my brilliant diamond playthrough. the art direction is a point of contention in the pokemon fandom, but i'm a big fan of it! it seems like people either love it or hate it, and, thankfully, i'm definitely in the 'love' camp! the chibi style is endlessly charming, and the environments were just gorgeous. something about the lighting in brilliant diamond is just SUPER pleasing to me, and re-visiting sinnoh like this allowed me to really appreciate it. since my diamond file was in the post-game, i guess needing to play through this one in its entirety actually kinda worked out in my favour, huh?

i was super delighted to see that the ribbons screen is absolutely gorgeous in this game, too! i really like the status screen featured in bdsp. it's so nice and colourful.

this simple little screenshot is also really important to me. you see, when i was a kid, i got diamond version as a gift from a family friend. he'd gone abroad and generously brought back it back as a present for me. back then, the country that i live in didn't get pokemon games in a timely manner at all (we'd get them in video game stores months after they released in the u.s.), and i actually had no idea that diamond version even existed. (not knowing that a new pkmn generation dropped was a recurring experience in my childhood, LOL.) so playing this game for the first time made for a really magical experience. i have a very, very clear memory of playing it for hours and hours on the night that i started it up... until i could barely keep my eyes open. i trained my team a whole lot and was exploring this route right outside of jubilife, and i thought that the small island on the water was very pretty. i saved there for the night, imagining my trainer setting up a little camp for herself and her pokemon... and now, every time i'm on that route, i can't help but smile at the memory. so you can imagine just how happy i was to take a photo with reides there, with the updated graphics and everything!

furthermore, on the course of my sinnoh journey, i ran into lots of old friends... including none other than riley!

thanks to the way he helped me out in the gen4 battle tower, riley is a really special character to me now. so i was really happy to see him and play through iron island with him! after thwarting team galactic, he surprised me with a little gift.

i actually wasn't planning on raising a riolu - much less a lucario - on my main team AT ALL... but, upon receiving this egg from riley, i knew i had to. as silly as it may sound, i thought it would be a great nod to our time in the battle tower all those generations ago! and so, on that note, here is the storyline team that i journeyed through sinnoh with, and who helped reides get to where he needed to be:

as you can see, there's a bit of a theme going on with their nicknames! i decided to name each member of my brilliant diamond team after in-universe berries. i thought it'd be cute!

anyway, the berry bunch and i had a fantastic time exploring sinnoh. days passed, and, eventually, we faced what i believe to be the most difficult league in any of the pokemon games... including the most daunting champion battle ever.

cynthia lived up to her status as the most skilled champion in the pkmn franchise thus far. we had a battle for the ages, knocking 5 of each other's pokemon out. i actually almost lost to her - she had me completely backed into a corner. but my team pulled through, as kelpsy the glaceon MIRACULOUSLY toughed out an attack that should have knocked him out (via the affection system - namely, if your pokemon really loves you, they can occasionally 'survive' attacks that'd knock them out with 1hp instead) and managed to land a single ice beam on her garchomp. this clutched out the win, and my team was added to the sinnoh hall of fame.

now that i had access to the post-game, i could focus on reides once more. to get his ribbon in brilliant diamond, we'd have to foray into the brilliant contest scene.

brilliant contests are a calibre above the typical condition contests and are linked to all of your contest stats rather than just one. you actually don't gain access to this category unless you've achieved a master rank win in all of the solo-stat categories. luckily, ribbons from oras are recognized in bdsp, so reides didn't have to prove his worth to the judges and could instead get right to competing in the brilliant contests.

in addition to this category, bdsp also introduced some new contest mechanics, too. your final contest score can be split into three parts: 'visual', 'dance', and 'move'. these all seem pretty self-explanatory; the visual part is linked to your pokemon's contest condition/sheen, the dance part is linked to how well you perform in the rhythm game, and the move is linked to your timing in executing the one contest move that you're allowed to take in with you during the contests. but the visual part actually has an element of added complexity in bdsp, as it also involves a new mechanic of placing stickers on your pokemon's pokeball so that cool effects play when you send them out. (this feature was also in the gen4 sinnoh games, albeit not incorporated into those games' contests.)

the effects which these stickers play have a direct impact on your pokemon's visual score. however, for brilliant contests, normal stickers don't really cut it. instead, people recommend grinding out champion stickers (from taking on cynthia's rematch team post-heatran plotline) and showstopper stickers (from beating the other master rank contests) in order to get a decent appeal score. since reides didn't need to take on the master rank contests, i didn't have any of those - and i wasn't all too interested in grinding for more. i figured that grinding out champion stickers would work out better, since they give more points in the visual portion of the contest, anyway.

before starting that grind, i decided to give the brilliant master contest a try with nothing but the base-game stickers. given reides' perfect contest stats from omega ruby, i wondered if his contest skills would be enough to scrape through and secure a win.

as it turned out...

...they were not. people are NOT exaggerating when they talk about the difficulty of the brilliant master rank contest!! i was pretty shocked that my lovely kingdra was getting absolutely terrible visual ratings. (LIKE, LOOK AT HIM!! LOOK AT HIM!!!!!!! HE'S SO CUTE!!!!!!! AND PERFECT!!! AND SWEET, TOO!!!!!!!!) anyway, my outrage aside, it turns out that using those two types of stickers to boost your pokemon's visual rating is pretty much a necessity. the rhythm game portion of it is also not to be underestimated and typically requires a bit of practice. luckily, i'm fairly decent at rhythm games, but i knew that i would have to get those stickers from cynthia after all. i played through the pre-requisite bit of the post-game - catching heatran in a premier ball! - and made my way back to the league. with my storyline team vibing in the pc and my ribbon mastery team ready to FIGHT, i got settled and began grinding out the battles.

initially, i intended to get 20 champion stickers on the ball so as to fill it up entirely with them. after getting 8 stickers in one night, though, i was kind of worn down and decided to give the contest another try. i also taught giga impact to reides, as it's SUPER good in the bdsp contests (your pokemon gains a big boost to its score when you use it while you have a positive 'jam' score in the dance game) and can be easily bought in the veilstone department store. i was delighted to see that my protag's mother - johanna - was there for this contest, as well as gym leader fantina. both johanna and fantina are great at contests in-universe, so i was excited at the prospect of at least succeeding on this contest round, even if reides didn't manage to clutch out the win.

...however, by some miracle, reides managed to do just that!! not only did i finally manage to succeed in the brilliant master rank contest, but reides also secured the win. at this point, it was, like, 4 in the morning for me. i was absolutely astounded; i actually wondered if i was somehow hallucinating. the twinkling star ribbon was the one and only ribbon that i needed in brilliant diamond, and after so much work to get to this point...

...it was finally granted to reides!!!

upon recieving this ribbon, reides acquired all of the ribbons that he needs in order to be a ribbon master... save for ONE. one (1) single ribbon stands in his way... and that ribbon is the one that's granted to a pokemon for emerging victorious in a master ball ranked online battle. now, i can technically get this ribbon by putting reides back in pokemon shield and trying to climb the ladder in gen8... but, as you likely know, the current gen (as of me writing this post) is gen9. that means that the gen8 battle servers are... well...

empty.

okay, no. they're not entirely empty. but people have stories of waiting for hours to get into one single match, and i'm not sure if i want to put myself through that unless i absolutely must. and i might just have to, as kingdra hasn't been officially announced as part of the generation 9 pokedex... however, with indigo disk on the horizon (3 more days!!!), i figured i'd wait to see if kingdra would be included in its national dex before subjecting myself to gen8's very delayed match-making times. if it isn't, i'll just devote another post to my competitive climb in lieu of a gen9 one. (tbh, i'm considering making a totally seperate blog post for my very first foray in the vgc realm regardless - but we'll see how it goes!)

either way, i really, really enjoyed my time with reides in gen8. it has been so awesome to see him in games that i can play with the most up-to-date nintendo console, and kingdra's models across the switch games have just been so incredibly snazzy. i said this at the start of the post, but it truly is crazy to see just how far my little shiny horsea from emerald version has journeyed. i love reides so very much and i couldn't possibly be more proud of him!!!

so let's keep our fingers crossed that reides will be allowed into gen9 so that he can explore the paldea, kitakami, and unova regions! thanks again for cheering him on, and i'm looking forward to writing another update soon!!! that update may very well include reides finally achieving full ribbon master status at long last, so i'm already excited for it! :D

#jamietxt #ribbon master #pokemon #reides the kingdra

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boombox-fuckboy · 1 year

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Skyjacks - Some Birds

Some lionbirds in Skyjacks might be familiar (I imagine most people know what Lucas looks like) but others maybe less so, depending on where you're from. I like birds, so here's a few noteworthy and cool features:

Red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis)

Metatron, flown by Gable of The Uhuru

Wildfire, Yellow Audron general bird for the Swiftwell Courier Service

Grey-headed albatross (Thalassarche chrysostoma)

Flea, flown by Jonnit Kessler and Gable of The Uhuru

Red-breasted merganser (Mergus serrator)

Ferdinand, flown by Travis Matagot of The Uhuru

Banner, flown by Coriander Swiftwell of the Swiftwell Courier Service

Harpy Eagle (Harpia harpyja)

Aristocracy, showbird and jousting bird flown by Tiberius Youngblood of the Youngblood Family

Bountiful, Winter Stables warbird of The Swiftwell Courier Service

Saker falcon (Falco cherrug)

Augury, flown by June Hymnall, apprentice aboard the Swiftwell Courier Service's Red Audron

White-bellied go-away-bird (Crinifer leucogaster)

Obstinacy, flown by Fredrick Hawthorne, master all-courier to the Swiftwell Courier Service

Peregrine falcon (Falco peregrinus)

Victory, flown by Hidred Gastaur, pro jouster

Ghost, Autumn Stables warbird for the Swiftwell Courier Service

Great Horned Owl (Bubo Virginianus)

Agamemnon, flown by Fthina Vronti, Post Master General of the Swiftwell Courier Service

Choco toucan (Ramphastos brevis)

Royal, Red Audron general bird for the Swiftwell Courier Service

Pied kingfisher (Ceryle rudis)

Squall, flown by Braith Ashworth, all-courier for the Swiftwell Courier Service

#sorry y'all I'm a bird blog now #skyjacks #skyjacks: courier's call #campaign: skyjacks #I have some bird suggestions for the show but I may annoy people enough with this /lh #long post #ish

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starwarsrecrimination · 7 months

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What is Star Wars: Recrimination?

Recrimination is an imagined variably-animated series that serves as a sequel to the Rebels television series and the canon Thrawn novels. Through this work, I am interested in complicated the conventions of Star Wars as a franchise, exploring key aspects such as xenophobia, exploitation, expansion, and what comes of reckoning with empire.

Any work hoping to follow in the footsteps of Rebels ought to be concerned with how art is presented inside and outside of the story. In order to capture the style-blending that the project would ideally exhibit if it were ever developed, each piece of artwork made for the Recrimination continuity thus far was created by a different artist. All of them are very talented, and I highly recommend checking out their work!

As Recrimination has existed in my head for roughly three years now, I often lose sight of what the reader not acquainted with my grey matter is actually able to infer from what I've written. If I am ever unclear and not in a fun way, feel free to ask for elaboration! Questions on any subject are always welcome. New to Recrimination? I suggest starting with albatross, a short fic bridging Thrawn: Treason and the first Rec season that can be found here. Then you can check out the season outlines: S1 S2 S3 S4

I use the following tags for organization:

#artwork for visual pieces created for the project

#character art for base images made in Picrew

#writing for in-universe fiction works

#meta for out-of-universe explanations

#script for polished outlines that may or may not be developed into full screenplays.

I do not post my writing or other work on Ao3 for personal reasons. Please do not upload my work there- if it appears on that site it will never have been with my approval.

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hellonoblesky · 2 years

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Uh oh, you really made the PM mad if they’re sending these three after you

[ID: A warmly lit digital drawing of the Trainwreck Trio, which consists of Dazai, Chuuya, and Albatross. Chuuya stands closest to the viewer, grinning with his head tilted to the side. He wears a grey-red suit with a swirling pattern on the left side, and dark red gloves. Behind him on his right, Dazai stands, dressed in a long red dress with a slit up the side, showing his leg, which he’s wearing black tights over. He wears shoulder-length red gloves and holds a lighter. His hair is styled so it covers his right eye, and he’s looking over his shoulder slyly at the viewer, lighter in hand. To Chuuya’s left, Albatross stands, in a similar position to Dazai, with one hand casually lifted as if gesturing to emphasize a point. He wears a pinkish-red dress with layers of frills as the skirt, and holds a knife behind his back, His rat tail is curled and he wears two dark bracelets on his right wrist. Speech bubbles that are color coded to correspond with each character: blue for Dazai, yellow for Albatross, and Red for Chuuya. They speak in that order, Dazai saying “You know we have bombs rigged here, right?”, Albatross saying “Not to mention personnel armed and outside,” and Chuuya saying “And that gun won’t do shit to me.” A blurred out crowd of people stand behind them, dressed in various formalwear and looking disturbed or afraid. End ID.]

#turtledove draws #trainwreck trio #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #i fuckingh love them #dazai osamu #dazai bungou stray dogs #nakahara chuuya #chuuya bungou stray dogs #bsd albatross

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lavender-visions · 10 days

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The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology Dissertation

(very proud of this, and my own personal thoughts. please be nice ��)

in order to really absorb and feel this album you have to break it down into the many different layers that is Taylor Swift. In many ways Swift captures what can be called the human crisis. We as people have the full range of emotions from happy to sad. however Swifts writing on The Tortured Poets Department hits all the areas of grey in her life. Ranging from working in the music industry, her personal life, and her love life.

The music industry has never been a kind place. She entered this realm when she was just a kid and has grown up in this awful system made for her to “expire”. We all know Swift as an international singer with millions of fans. However Swift can’t help but think that it’s all fleeting. She’s angry, she’s paranoid and downright terrifying when she sings the words “so tell me everything is not about me… but what if it is? Then say they didn’t do it to hurt me… but what if they did? i want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me. you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.” Taylor emphasizes just how horrifying being raised in this industry is. She later confirms this with the lyrics from Clara Bow stating “Take the glory, give everything. Promise to be Dazzling”. Taylor is fully aware that she has made a mark on the music industry, and by some records knows that she is currently at the top of her game. But while all of her fans are showing up to these gigantic concerts and screaming “MORE!” she continues to “fake it till she makes it”. None of us had a clue that she was doing this all while dying inside. (I can do it with a broken heart.)

there was an industry before Taylor, During Taylor and inevitably there will be an industry after Taylor. One human can’t do it all without cracking and Swift has shown us that.

In TTPD her personal life and love life become intertwined. We know Swift was in a 6 year long relationship with Joe Alwyn and a “situationship” with Matty Healy. Many people have been surprised that Matty had so much “playtime” on this album potentially dedicated to him. After listening through once this is written from the perspective of someone who felt rejected by one person right after another. it’s not a “i’m going to kill myself if HE leaves” it’s a “i can’t lose another person again because of the industry i’ve built.” I’m very obviously not Taylor Swift so i can’t say if that’s truly what was going through her mind. The album starts out with Matty and then continues into more “Joe” based songs with “So long London”. This then continues into the song “Fresh Out the Slammer” where there’s a hint of Matty but referencing back to Joe saying she has “done her time”. She references a park and sitting on children’s swings with this person she has just called after a long relationship break up. the line “wearing imaginary rings” shows that even though she’s HERE with this person she’s thinking about Joe.

After Matty and Taylor call it off there’s a decent in the lyrics. (Most songs after Whos afraid of Little Old Me?) She becomes reflective of her time with Joe and how he has left her alone and it really becomes an issue as we can see from the song “I Can Do it with a Broken Heart” because even though this happened shes “in the prime of her life” however it’s very clear that swift feels far from that. She’s realizing that everything is coming to a head. her love life and her career. Where are you supposed to go after the Eras tour? Who are you supposed to turn to when you’ve been left to pick up the pieces of not just one but two people leaving? She very clearly questions the whole probability of her ever finding a love again that will stay because they want to. (imgonnagetyouback & The Black Dog) She reverts back to the possibility that a lot of people hate her (The Albatross & Cassandra) and even calls out the ones who publicly do (thanK you aIMee)

This quickly morphs into questioning her choices in life. where it suddenly feels like she’s not in control anymore. (i hate it here, i look through peoples windows, How did it end?) She knows that the people she loves don’t stay in the picture and from her perspective it’s because of the industry itself or the fact that she has always loved them more than they loved her (Peter)

In Swifts mind, everything goes back to her childhood and how she was born that way (The Bolter & The Prophecy) which i do believe gives her a sense of security and reasoning even if she doesn’t love the outcome.

We then have her songs about Travis (So Highschool & The Alchemy) these songs are hesitant and they should be after everything Taylor has endured the past 3-5 years. She likes him and knows there’s something there but wonders “are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me” and is “betting on all three”.

Finally, It was a stroke of genius to end with “The Manuscript”. I truly believe this song is how she views her life. Girl meets boy and they hit it off. They date and then end things. She then writes a song, directs a short film, whatever Miss Swift has done for us viewers over the years. But the truth is, she hates it. It’s what she loves to do in the moment but the moment we as viewers and listeners are shared with it, it becomes ours and we twist it how we want to see it. She ends with the line “Now and then i reread the manuscript. But the story isn’t mine anymore”. This speaks volumes to what being a creator of music means. Now that we have TTPD it’s not hers anymore, and hopefully she can finally begin the healing process.

@taylorswift @taylornation

#taylor swift #ttpd #ttpd discertation #please be nice

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kingblau · 11 months

Note

What bird is on your icon? It is so baby!

Isn't it?!!! He's a grey headed albatross chick. The photo was taken by Frans Lanting, he's a wildlife photographer.

here he is!

#it was my lockscreen for quite a while #it makes me giggle #hes so shmol #thank you for asking - it sent me down a rabbit hole bc i thought it was saved to my phone but wasnt so i had to go find it #and found a bunch of other baby albatross pictures

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mlmxreader · 2 months

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What's So Great About War? | Alex Keller x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ I have a suggestion for a fanfic. How about a WW1 scenario. The reader can be German or allies. They’re a pilot who crashed into no man’s land. The character whether it be Gaz or Alex. Any character will do you can choose. The character will help them since if the reader is German the uniform is so badly mangled it’s hard to determine who’s side their on or if they’re allies/ on the same side as the character maybe the character has seen them on the air field while they were headed to the trenches. Hope you enjoy and have fun with that idea! ❞

: ̗̀➛ During the First World War, Alex is stationed with the American Shock Troops, and finds himself torn between loyalty and duty.

: ̗̀➛ graphic depictions of death, graphic depictions of injury, graphic descriptions, toxic gas, plane crashes, swearing, smoking, gun violence

↳ PROSHIP/PROFIC/ETC DO NOT INTERACT

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The war had been raging for all too long, it seemed as if it had been going on since the dawn of time and would never end. Leaving fields that were once green and bursting with life empty and barren and grey.

Desolate of everything except rotten pikes that held up the barbed wire and the scattered limbs and bones that were gnawed on by rats and mice.

It was easy to hear their cries, begging and pleading for a bullet in the head so they didn’t have to feel the rats burrow and chew through their stomachs and intestines throughout the night.

Many of the politicians called it the war to end all wars, and kept pushing for more and more needless and senseless death.

Yet they would not fight themselves and nor would they send their own sons to war either.

Sun Tzu would have wept if he saw what was happening.

On the Eastern Front, men were being gassed as they protected fortresses; rising and gargling on their blood and vomit as they tried to march forward.

On the Western Front, it was so much worse. The bodies of men and horses stunk as they rotted, torn apart and frayed from shells, grenades, and heavy machine gun fire.

It had been so long that Alex had forgotten how much of his time had been spent fighting; he at least still remembered who he fought with.

It was the Devil Dogs - the U.S Marines - at first.

They soon transferred him to the 141st British Regiment - which Alex absolutely despised due to MacTavish’s constant preaching of propaganda and talking about how the Welsh were “bugger all except sheep shagging scum who speak gibberish.”

Then at last, he was sent to the American Shock Troops - who were often called the Ghosts.

There, he was still stationed.

Several men made up the force of the Ghosts, as well as their mercy dog Riley.

But Alex was thankful, as he never really spent much time with them except during raids, so he never got to find out if they were as bad as MacTavish or not.

Quite often, though, Alex would find himself sitting at the edge of the trench and smoking too many cigarettes, his gaze turned to the sky as he thought about the man he used to know so well.

You were dragged into the war before he was, and he could still remember the feel of your hands in his as he begged you to stay alive and to make it through the war so he could see you again.

The last time he told you that he loved you, quickly kissing you before you were shoved onto the train; he chased after it until he fell over, calling your name and promising that he would see you again.

He would make it home to you.

You wrote to one another very often, though - Alex knew all about your dark green and white Albatross and how you had painted it the same pattern as an orca, just as he knew all about your time with the Flying Circus under the command of the infamous Manfred Von Richthofen, The Red Baron.

You were credited with sixty victories and the newspapers in your home country even gave you a dashing new nickname fit for your reputation - The Green Shark.

But that did not stop you from seeing the truth behind the war.

All the wasted lives and broken dreams. All the mothers mourning children they could never bury.

All the men who would not go home. There was no enemy - only men and boys, sons and fathers, brothers and uncles and nephews, turned to ash for nothing.

There would never be victory - only decay and death. There would never be glory - only blood.

None of it was ever going to be justified, it was a pointless and horrific war.

Alex could never disagree with you on that, he never would believe in such a vile and heinous thing, such an apocalyptic event. And all for what?

What was it all for?

Why did millions have to die?

Why did so many have to give their lives?

Why?

Two shots had changed the world, and millions were going to pay for it.

One man’s death was paid for by the suffering and deaths of millions more - coins made of blood and skin.

So what was so fucking great about it?

Swiping a hand down his face, Alex tried to push it from his mind, knowing that thoughts of such a calibre would get him killed.

He tossed the end of his cigarette away, but just as he was about to stand, he was thrust forward into the muddy waters face-first.

A great orange light was flying over him.

He kept his head low for a moment before scrambling over the top of the trench. Immediately, he charged across the barren wasteland as fast as he could, his lip quivering when he saw the dark green plane.

It was all a blur as he grabbed the limp pilot and dragged him back to the trench, putting him down on a cot and screaming for Elias. Alex was soon dragged away by Ajax and Kick.

He spent hours trying to get to the pilot, desperate and on the verge of starting a war on his own, but it wasn’t until dawn that he was allowed.

“Do you know this man?” Elias asked sternly, glaring at Alex.

He nodded, swallowing thickly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” Elias nodded back curtly as he cleared his throat. “Is he friend or foe? His uniform’s torn and burnt, so I can’t tell - but you know him, so you must know.”

“Friendly,” Alex answered quietly, chewing the inside of his lip, “he’s on our side, Sir.”

Such a lie could get him shot and killed, Alex was all too aware of that - but what was he meant to do?

Your life was not suddenly worth less than his because of the fact that your country was fighting on the opposite side of a pointless war.

He had to lie to keep you alive and safe, even if it meant risking his own in the process.

But the Ghosts soon left, letting Alex stay with you; you were in bad shape.

Burns and gashes all over your face, some of them so deep that he could see where the flames from your downed plane had scorched the fat layer of your wounds.

Rendering the flesh blistered and weeping openly.

Deep wounds covered your hands and arms and legs; with ease, Alex could see the particularly gnarly laceration on your left leg.

It was open, the bone pressing against what little flesh was left; cracked and dried blood crackled when it spasmed upon feeling the soft winds.

Alex wanted to look away, but when he saw the scorch marks on the bone, he frowned.

What was left of your uniform was black from the burns, and stained with dark splodges that smelled like iron.

But you were awake, groaning and trying to move until he gently pushed you down, shaking his head.

“You’re still alive,” you coughed weakly.

Alex nodded, letting his hand rest on your chest as he did his best to smile reassuringly. “For now… I had to tell them you were one of ours, they haven’t seen your plane yet.”

“I can pretend,” you agreed softly. “It’s alright.”

“We are going to see the end of this war,” he promised, licking his lips and clearing his throat. “And I will keep you safe. I promise.”

“I don’t want to fight,” you grumbled softly, shaking your head and coughing again. “I don’t want to be part of this war.”

“Darling,” Alex whispered. “You don’t have to any more. I promise. When this war is over, you’re coming home with me.”

“So demanding,” your laugh sounded more like a death rattle than anything else. “But I will always go where you do…”

“I promised you when you left on that train, I would find you again… didn’t think it’d be in such a fucking shitty predicament,” he sighed, gently patting your chest. “Sleep now. You need your rest and I need to convince Elias to let me stay with you while you heal… but I love you, you know, and I’m going to get us both home. I promise.”

“Keller,” you mumbled, holding his hand as tightly as you could, although your grip was still all too limp. “I love you, too… don’t go… please?”

Alex leaned back a little, taking a look behind him before lighting up a cigarette. “I’ll stay for as long as I can.”

He couldn’t have known, neither of you could have ever known, that the end of the war would not come for a long time, and that you would both watch the Ghosts die; you would see Hesh clinging onto Logan’s body as he screamed for their mother, begging for her to come and save them.

You would see Elias torn apart by rats as he did his best to usher the others back to the trenches.

You would see Ajax and Kick choke on toxic gas as they howled and rasped as their lungs collapsed.

You would see Merrick spread across No Man’s Land during heavy shelling.

The only one to make it out would be Riley.

So, what would ever be so fucking great about the war?

“Come on,” Alex murmured as he gently shoved you over so he could lie down next to you, offering you his cigarette. “If I’m staying, I want some space.”

You shuffled and groaned, sharp pains shooting through you until you wept and nearly begged for death. Through choked up tears, you managed to say, “you always did hog the bed.”

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you-should-take-her-to-big-sur · 2 months

Text

Since Taylor's releasing a variant called "The Albatross"

"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner"

(text of 1834)

By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Argument

How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.

PART I

It is an ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three.

'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,

Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,

And I am next of kin;

The guests are met, the feast is set:

May'st hear the merry din.'

He holds him with his skinny hand,

'There was a ship,' quoth he.

'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'

Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye—

The Wedding-Guest stood still,

And listens like a three years' child:

The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:

He cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

'The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.

The Sun came up upon the left,

Out of the sea came he!

And he shone bright, and on the right

Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,

Till over the mast at noon—'

The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,

For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,

Red as a rose is she;

Nodding their heads before her goes

The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,

Yet he cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he

Was tyrannous and strong:

He struck with his o'ertaking wings,

And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,

As who pursued with yell and blow

Still treads the shadow of his foe,

And forward bends his head,

The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,

And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,

And it grew wondrous cold:

And ice, mast-high, came floating by,

As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts

Did send a dismal sheen:

Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken—

The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,

The ice was all around:

It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,

Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross an Albatross,

Thorough the fog it came;

As if it had been a Christian soul,

We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,

And round and round it flew.

The ice did split with a thunder-fit;

The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;

The Albatross did follow,

And every day, for food or play,

Came to the mariner's hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,

It perched for vespers nine;

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,

Glimmered the white Moon-shine.'

'God save thee, ancient Mariner!

From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—

Why look'st thou so?'—With my cross-bow

I shot the ALBATROSS.

PART II

The Sun now rose upon the right:

Out of the sea came he,

Still hid in mist, and on the left

Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,

But no sweet bird did follow,

Nor any day for food or play

Came to the mariner's hollo!

And I had done a hellish thing,

And it would work 'em woe:

For all averred, I had killed the bird

That made the breeze to blow.

Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,

That made the breeze to blow!

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,

The glorious Sun uprist:

Then all averred, I had killed the bird

That brought the fog and mist.

'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,

That bring the fog and mist.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,

The furrow followed free;

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,

'Twas sad as sad could be;

And we did speak only to break

The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody Sun, at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand,

No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,

And all the boards did shrink;

Water, water, every where,

Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!

That ever this should be!

Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs

Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout

The death-fires danced at night;

The water, like a witch's oils,

Burnt green, and blue and white.

And some in dreams assurèd were

Of the Spirit that plagued us so;

Nine fathom deep he had followed us

From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,

Was withered at the root;

We could not speak, no more than if

We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks

Had I from old and young!

Instead of the cross, the Albatross

About my neck was hung.

PART III

There passed a weary time. Each throat

Was parched, and glazed each eye.

A weary time! a weary time!

How glazed each weary eye,

When looking westward, I beheld

A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,

And then it seemed a mist;

It moved and moved, and took at last

A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!

And still it neared and neared:

As if it dodged a water-sprite,

It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,

We could nor laugh nor wail;

Through utter drought all dumb we stood!

I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,

And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,

Agape they heard me call:

Gramercy! they for joy did grin,

And all at once their breath drew in.

As they were drinking all.

See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!

Hither to work us weal;

Without a breeze, without a tide,

She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame.

The day was well nigh done!

Almost upon the western wave

Rested the broad bright Sun;

When that strange shape drove suddenly

Betwixt us and the Sun.

And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,

(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)

As if through a dungeon-grate he peered

With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)

How fast she nears and nears!

Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,

Like restless gossameres?

Are those her ribs through which the Sun

Did peer, as through a grate?

And is that Woman all her crew?

Is that a DEATH? and are there two?

Is DEATH that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,

Her locks were yellow as gold:

Her skin was as white as leprosy,

The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,

Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,

And the twain were casting dice;

'The game is done! I've won! I've won!'

Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out;

At one stride comes the dark;

With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,

Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up!

Fear at my heart, as at a cup,

My life-blood seemed to sip!

The stars were dim, and thick the night,

The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;

From the sails the dew did drip—

Till clomb above the eastern bar

The hornèd Moon, with one bright star

Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged Moon,

Too quick for groan or sigh,

Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,

And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,

(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)

With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,

They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly,—

They fled to bliss or woe!

And every soul, it passed me by,

Like the whizz of my cross-bow!

PART IV

'I fear thee, ancient Mariner!

I fear thy skinny hand!

And thou art long, and lank, and brown,

As is the ribbed sea-sand.

I fear thee and thy glittering eye,

And thy skinny hand, so brown.'—

Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!

This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,

Alone on a wide wide sea!

And never a saint took pity on

My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!

And they all dead did lie:

And a thousand thousand slimy things

Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea,

And drew my eyes away;

I looked upon the rotting deck,

And there the dead men lay.

I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;

But or ever a prayer had gusht,

A wicked whisper came, and made

My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,

And the balls like pulses beat;

For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky

Lay dead like a load on my weary eye,

And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,

Nor rot nor reek did they:

The look with which they looked on me

Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell

A spirit from on high;

But oh! more horrible than that

Is the curse in a dead man's eye!

Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,

And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky,

And no where did abide:

Softly she was going up,

And a star or two beside—

Her beams bemocked the sultry main,

Like April hoar-frost spread;

But where the ship's huge shadow lay,

The charmèd water burnt alway

A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship,

I watched the water-snakes:

They moved in tracks of shining white,

And when they reared, the elfish light

Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship

I watched their rich attire:

Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,

They coiled and swam; and every track

Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue

Their beauty might declare:

A spring of love gushed from my heart,

And I blessed them unaware:

Sure my kind saint took pity on me,

And I blessed them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray;

And from my neck so free

The Albatross fell off, and sank

Like lead into the sea.

PART V

Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,

Beloved from pole to pole!

To Mary Queen the praise be given!

She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,

That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,

That had so long remained,

I dreamt that they were filled with dew;

And when I awoke, it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold,

My garments all were dank;

Sure I had drunken in my dreams,

And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs:

I was so light—almost

I thought that I had died in sleep,

And was a blessed ghost.

And soon I heard a roaring wind:

It did not come anear;

But with its sound it shook the sails,

That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life!

And a hundred fire-flags sheen,

To and fro they were hurried about!

And to and fro, and in and out,

The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud,

And the sails did sigh like sedge,

And the rain poured down from one black cloud;

The Moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still

The Moon was at its side:

Like waters shot from some high crag,

The lightning fell with never a jag,

A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the ship,

Yet now the ship moved on!

Beneath the lightning and the Moon

The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,

Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;

It had been strange, even in a dream,

To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;

Yet never a breeze up-blew;

The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,

Where they were wont to do;

They raised their limbs like lifeless tools—

We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son

Stood by me, knee to knee:

The body and I pulled at one rope,

But he said nought to me.

'I fear thee, ancient Mariner!'

Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!

'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,

Which to their corses came again,

But a troop of spirits blest:

For when it dawned—they dropped their arms,

And clustered round the mast;

Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,

And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,

Then darted to the Sun;

Slowly the sounds came back again,

Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky

I heard the sky-lark sing;

Sometimes all little birds that are,

How they seemed to fill the sea and air

With their sweet jargoning!

And now 'twas like all instruments,

Now like a lonely flute;

And now it is an angel's song,

That makes the heavens be mute.

It ceased; yet still the sails made on

A pleasant noise till noon,

A noise like of a hidden brook

In the leafy month of June,

That to the sleeping woods all night

Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we quietly sailed on,

Yet never a breeze did breathe:

Slowly and smoothly went the ship,

Moved onward from beneath.

Under the keel nine fathom deep,

From the land of mist and snow,

The spirit slid: and it was he

That made the ship to go.

The sails at noon left off their tune,

And the ship stood still also.

The Sun, right up above the mast,

Had fixed her to the ocean:

But in a minute she 'gan stir,

With a short uneasy motion—

Backwards and forwards half her length

With a short uneasy motion.

Then like a pawing horse let go,

She made a sudden bound:

It flung the blood into my head,

And I fell down in a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay,

I have not to declare;

But ere my living life returned,

I heard and in my soul discerned

Two voices in the air.

'Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man?

By him who died on cross,

With his cruel bow he laid full low

The harmless Albatross.

The spirit who bideth by himself

In the land of mist and snow,

He loved the bird that loved the man

Who shot him with his bow.'

The other was a softer voice,

As soft as honey-dew:

Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done,

And penance more will do.'

PART VI

First Voice

'But tell me, tell me! speak again,

Thy soft response renewing—

What makes that ship drive on so fast?

What is the ocean doing?'

Second Voice

Still as a slave before his lord,

The ocean hath no blast;

His great bright eye most silently

Up to the Moon is cast—

If he may know which way to go;

For she guides him smooth or grim.

See, brother, see! how graciously

She looketh down on him.'

First Voice

'But why drives on that ship so fast,

Without wave or wind?'

Second Voice

'The air is cut away before,

And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!

Or we shall be belated:

For slow and slow that ship will go,

When the Mariner's trance is abated.'

I woke, and we were sailing on

As in a gentle weather:

'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;

The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck,

For a charnel-dungeon fitter:

All fixed on me their stony eyes,

That in the Moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,

Had never passed away:

I could not draw my eyes from theirs,

Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapt: once more

I viewed the ocean green,

And looked far forth, yet little saw

Of what had else been seen—

Like one, that on a lonesome road

Doth walk in fear and dread,

And having once turned round walks on,

And turns no more his head;

Because he knows, a frightful fiend

Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,

Nor sound nor motion made:

Its path was not upon the sea,

In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek

Like a meadow-gale of spring—

It mingled strangely with my fears,

Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,

Yet she sailed softly too:

Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze—

On me alone it blew.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed

The light-house top I see?

Is this the hill? is this the kirk?

Is this mine own countree?

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,

And I with sobs did pray—

O let me be awake, my God!

Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,

So smoothly it was strewn!

And on the bay the moonlight lay,

And the shadow of the Moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,

That stands above the rock:

The moonlight steeped in silentness

The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,

Till rising from the same,

Full many shapes, that shadows were,

In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow

Those crimson shadows were:

I turned my eyes upon the deck—

Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,

And, by the holy rood!

A man all light, a seraph-man,

On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand:

It was a heavenly sight!

They stood as signals to the land,

Each one a lovely light;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,

No voice did they impart—

No voice; but oh! the silence sank

Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars,

I heard the Pilot's cheer;

My head was turned perforce away

And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,

I heard them coming fast:

Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy

The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third—I heard his voice:

It is the Hermit good!

He singeth loud his godly hymns

That he makes in the wood.

He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away

The Albatross's blood.

PART VII

This Hermit good lives in that wood

Which slopes down to the sea.

How loudly his sweet voice he rears!

He loves to talk with marineres

That come from a far countree.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve—

He hath a cushion plump:

It is the moss that wholly hides

The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk,

'Why, this is strange, I trow!

Where are those lights so many and fair,

That signal made but now?'

'Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said—

'And they answered not our cheer!

The planks looked warped! and see those sails,

How thin they are and sere!

I never saw aught like to them,

Unless perchance it were

Brown skeletons of leaves that lag

My forest-brook along;

When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,

And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,

That eats the she-wolf's young.'

'Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look—

(The Pilot made reply)

I am a-feared'—'Push on, push on!'

Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,

But I nor spake nor stirred;

The boat came close beneath the ship,

And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,

Still louder and more dread:

It reached the ship, it split the bay;

The ship went down like lead.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,

Which sky and ocean smote,

Like one that hath been seven days drowned

My body lay afloat;

But swift as dreams, myself I found

Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,

The boat spun round and round;

And all was still, save that the hill

Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips—the Pilot shrieked

And fell down in a fit;

The holy Hermit raised his eyes,

And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,

Who now doth crazy go,

Laughed loud and long, and all the while

His eyes went to and fro.

'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see,

The Devil knows how to row.'

And now, all in my own countree,

I stood on the firm land!

The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,

And scarcely he could stand.

'O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!'

The Hermit crossed his brow.

'Say quick,' quoth he, 'I bid thee say—

What manner of man art thou?'

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched

With a woful agony,

Which forced me to begin my tale;

And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,

That agony returns:

And till my ghastly tale is told,

This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land;

I have strange power of speech;

That moment that his face I see,

I know the man that must hear me:

To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door!

The wedding-guests are there:

But in the garden-bower the bride

And bride-maids singing are:

And hark the little vesper bell,

Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been

Alone on a wide wide sea:

So lonely 'twas, that God himself

Scarce seemèd there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,

'Tis sweeter far to me,

To walk together to the kirk

With a goodly company!—

To walk together to the kirk,

And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,

Old men, and babes, and loving friends

And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell

To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!

He prayeth well, who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best

All things both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all.

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,

Whose beard with age is hoar,

Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest

Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,

And is of sense forlorn:

A sadder and a wiser man,

He rose the morrow morn.

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