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#hints of the vast and the buried combined into the deep
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i, for one, welcome our new fear gods that come in many forms.
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books · 2 years
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Writer Spotlight: Hugh Howey
Hugh Howey is the New York Times bestselling author of WOOL, SAND, BEACON 23, and over a dozen other novels. His works have been translated into more than 40 languages, with millions of copies sold worldwide. WOOL is being adapted for television by Apple, due out in 2023. And BEACON 23 is being filmed for release by Charter and AMC. When he isn’t writing, he’s usually traveling or sailing vast distances.
Can you tell us a little about your upcoming title, Across the Sand?
When I was a teenager, my dad took us to the great sand dunes on the west side of the Rocky Mountains. I was captivated by the sight of so much sand left behind by the winds traveling up and over the ridges. It made me think about a future Earth where vast regions are buried in sand. And the possibility of diving deep into that sand to retrieve artifacts from our forgotten world.
Years later, I watched the war in Syria break out, and I marveled at the people courageous enough to leave their home, the place they belonged, to walk to safety. That choice can’t be easy, and the journey must be terrifying. And then to arrive where you aren’t wanted. These thoughts haunted me.
I combined this with thoughts about my own family that I was having at the time; siblings spread wide and not in touch as much as we are meant to be, a father gone to live with another family, and a heroic mother stretched thin. All these themes and more went into the series.
What prompted you to dive back into the Sand series, and what excites you most for fans returning to the series?
Dive! I see what you did there. :)
The first book ends with an epic bang, and I’ve always wanted to pick up where it left off, but I wouldn’t have written the right sequel before now. I lost my father during the pandemic, and my relationship with him was very complex. It shows up in so many of my novels. ACROSS THE SAND was a chance to really tackle how a man can be both great and evil at the same time, and why unconditional love might be the most toxic gift we have to offer.
Family plays a big role in Across the Sand. How do you approach writing nuanced and complicated family dynamics?
The SAND series draws from my own family dynamics more than any of my other novels. What fascinates me about families is how worship and resentment can coexist, how we can love so powerfully and yet push each other away. The sinew between families that undergo stress can withstand so much, but like sinew in our bodies, the injuries to that soft tissue can take a lifetime to heal. Broken bones are easier to mend than these familial sorts of strains.
What’s the writing process like when returning to an already well-loved world? Are there elements of the world that you’re beholden to?
There are, and much of the foreshadowing and hints in the first novel are finally able to be unveiled. I wrote SAND with a trilogy in mind, and one of the most challenging things to do as an eager writer like myself is to know the big things that are coming and hold them back, to allow the world to unspool at a deliberate pace. There are massive things in this book to set up the final chapter, even as each book stands just fine on its own.
Can you talk a little bit about your approach to publishing? What does literary success look like to you?
Literary success looks like a smiling reader to me. When I wrote my first book, I quickly realized how difficult it is to ask someone to sit down and spend eight or ten hours of their lives living in your imagination. The fifteen or twenty bucks is a small ask. Ten hours is a massive one. Even if I tried to give my books away, it was a challenge to get a full read. So for me, every individual reader who picks up one of my stories and reads it to conclusion… that’s a success. The fact that I’ve had this happen millions of times by now is why I can’t wipe the smile off my face or feel anything less than absolute and full contentment as a writer.
Do you have any hopes and dreams for the future of SciFi? What would you like to see more of?
I’d love to see more hope and solutions, even as we build our stories around conflict and problems. I want to see science fiction that revolves around well-developed characters, even as we plumb big ideas and build audacious worlds. More than any other genre, science fiction requires a delicate balance between elements that are in conflict with one another. We ask that imaginations be stretched but not broken, that worlds are fresh and new but not unrecognizable. We put characters in alien situations, but we ask the reader to see themselves in them. The best science fiction, to me, is like a paradox resolved.
You’ve blogged about NaNoWriMo in the past. Are you planning on joining again this year, and do you have any tips for folks wanting to join in for the first time?
I join every year, I just don’t succeed every year! For me, the month of November is just a chance to buckle down and hammer out as many good words as possible as the end of the year looms. You might get one more novel in rough draft or finish a WIP that’s been sitting on a hard drive or in the recesses of your mind. You might get the first half of a new idea set down, which gives you momentum heading into the next year. NaNoWriMo taught me the value of never taking a day off from my writing, which is a lesson I have to relearn more and more often these days.
Did you always want to be a writer? 
Since I was about twelve. That’s when I tried to write my first novel, which I came across this week while cleaning out a closet. Somehow I’ve kept up with the printout of that first attempt for three and a half decades now. And yeah, it’s as bad as you’d imagine a book by a twelve-year-old who was just aping the last book he’d read (Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy). And yeah, I’ll probably finish it and publish it someday. Because why not? Twelve-year-old me would be proud.
What’s something you’ve learned about yourself in the process of creating your books?
That I can finish what I start. For twenty years, I tried to write dozens of different novels, and I abandoned them all. After a while, I formed an opinion of myself as someone who can’t complete large tasks. I really started to believe this about myself. Once I finished that first novel, a dam broke. Suddenly, I was able to write two or three books a year. The lesson was this: knowing you can do something is 90% of doing it. Now I just assume I can do anything. It gets me most of the way there.
Thank you so much to Hugh for taking the time to answer our questions! Across the Sand is available everywhere starting today! You can follow Hugh on Tumblr at @hughhowey.
Photo credit: Christopher Michel
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itsraining-pebbles · 8 months
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combining both my special interests by assigning qsmp characters to the tma entities
Badboyhalo: End because grim reaper + edgy as fuck, BUT he is still very Eye aligned because all of the ordo is, but also hes paranoid and keeping a man in his basement for information with are very eye coded things to do
Cellbit: f!cell was probably under the influence of the Flesh bc cannibalism but q!cellbit is so very Eye coded. this man is the definition of an Eye avatar. the only thing more Eye than q!cellbit is the Eye itself
Roier: Web
Hombre Mysterioso: Dark bc like his name literally has mystery in it so its a lil bit obvious
Jaiden: Lonely marked in the saddest way possible. especially after bobby died, shes isolated herself a lot and she hasnt strongly connected with many people, and she feels like she can only really trust herself bc of everything with the federation
Foolish: Vast. hes a shark with lightning (also immortality in general is very vast coded)
Bagi: VERY Eye coded. probably hates the Flesh too
Etoiles: Hunt and the whole thing with his arm getting all weird is just him getting so deep into the Hint that its started changing him
Baghera: Eye avatar
Forever: Hunt bc wolfboy. but the Happy Pills were a Spiral thing
Pac: Lonely. like look at his whole arc rn. Lonely
Tubbo: i cant explain it but he gives off Buried vibes. like its not because of anything, he just seems like a Buried guy
Slimecicle: Spiral bc hes insane + funny
Philza: End. this man is literally the angel of death and his wife is the goddess of death. i dont think i need to justify it
Wilbur: Slaughter bc music and lovejoy as grifters bone would be great and no i dont care that wilbur doesnt fit the actual Slaughter qualifications because he fits the aesthetic and thats all that matters to me
ElQuackity: deffo Stranger bc ElQuackity is basically just a Not!Quackity
Federation workers: Stranger. its literally a bunch of ppl without faces idk what to tell you
Federation: Web or Stranger i cant decide
Ordo Theoritas as a whole: Eye coded
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chunhua-s · 3 years
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Kuroo in a wedding planner AU? Fluffy👀
ooooo wedding planner! this was another challenging au for me because i’ve neither read nor written anything for it before, but i had an idea that i want to try and put out for this! for this, i was swimming between the idea of going with friends to lovers or for an established relationship, but in the end i decided to go with the latter since it would give me more room to add the ending i wanted to make. writing this made me tear up a little bit? because it’s like, damn, thinking about being with someone who compares you to the stars and the entire galaxy, it’s so soft and utterly endearing? just the way our kuroo’s so in love with the reader makes me feel really warm, like i would need nothing else in the world if i had him with me. it’s hard to convey the feelings i have about it but i hope that while reading this, you’ll feel the same way! don’t be shy to tell me what you guys thought of it by the end, alright? i love to hear your thoughts and opinions 💕 with that being said, please enjoy reading!
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AT AN ALTAR OF STARDUST ➽ TETSURO KUROO x READER
genre: fluff
au: wedding planner
warnings: none!
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the scenery’s something straight out of a fantasy, he thinks.
fairy lights dangle from summer green trees, white lengths of cloth wrap around their trunks and tie together in elegant bows. the setting sun paints his world with orange fires that blend with gentle lavenders and deep blues, against which the stars dance on their faint lights. the sight of them is almost playful with the way they twinkle and fade, winking at him as if they bear secrets that they dangle tauntingly over his head, never for him to reach out for and grab between his fingers, never to taste their whispers against his yearning lips. they reel him in on stolen glances and teasing smiles, ones in which your eyes would glisten under the dying sun and show to him a vast galaxy, where laughter and joy orbit your entire being like planets, and you— you become the center of gravity, the giant star that burns so brilliantly like a ball of fire.
“so??” your energy vibrates all throughout your body as you clutch your hands to your chest, wide eyes searching kuroo’s expression for any hint of what he thinks of the venue you prepared. you’re always looking for his approval, so eager to hear his thoughts as if seeing his lips pull back into that familiar grin or the way his eyes show his admiration for the work you’ve done. and of course you would, kuroo considers: the both of you work together as a team after all. while you, as the wedding designer, handle the creative and aesthetic details, kuroo works as the planner, handling legal details, budgets and booking venues. it’s a combination that, between the two of you, works so seamlessly, what with the way the both of you could so easily connect with one another. it’s as if you could hear each other’s thoughts and count the beating of your hearts, understand every ‘thump, thump’ beneath your fingertips for the words you leave unsaid. “do you think the clients are gonna like it?”
the man pretends to think, lifting a hand to his chin as he scrutinizes the golden lanterns and the white and yellow roses decorating each table, the small glass orbs that sway so softly on a silent breeze, sounding like chiming bells and building on the fairytale ambience. and in the middle of it all, you stand smiling at him, your picture so radiant and breathtaking that, for a moment, kuroo willingly forgets that this wedding won’t be your own. he forgets that you won’t be the bride wearing white roses in her hair, won’t be dressed up in a beautiful gown. he forgets that he won’t be the man waiting for you at the altar, tears in his eyes as he watches you get closer and closer, until the both of you would say your ‘i do’s and bind your souls together for an eternity and more.
he wants that day to come more than anything.
“you always outdo yourself, hm?” he hums, grinning as your eyes light up under his approval. your smile is like a beacon under the setting sun, your eyes hold the secrets of the stars above and suddenly, you become the single most beautiful thing in his universe. you glow with the warmth of a heavenly flame and, like a moth, kuroo finds himself getting pulled further into you, wanting nothing more than to drown himself inside your all-consuming fire and give every part of himself to you. till the name tetsuro kuroo should vanish behind the blue curtains of your galaxy, till he’s made renewed with only the traces of your existence painted across his skin like ink, your name buried on his heart like a tattoo. when he looks at you, he feels himself melting into a pool of fallen stars, slipping between your fingers and leaving trails of purple and blue across your skin like paint. he wonders, is it the same for you? does the galaxy sing for you the way it does for him, does it tell you the secrets of his heart, how he whispers your name like a prayer for the moon to hear his voice? do the planets spin around him in orbit, do the heavens adorn his head with a crown of stardust and leave silver dots across his skin like freckles? when you look into his eyes, can you see the universe in them just as yours show to him the different solar systems beyond home?
he doesn’t know that when you look into his eyes, you see all that and so much more.
your eyes squint under your smile as you look back out at your hard work, turning your back to kuroo to admire the way the orange sun cast her final embers against the approaching night sky. as you feel tetsurou’s arms wrap around your waist, his chin resting atop your head, you melt into his hold and let out a satisfied hum. “i think seeing everyone enjoy themselves with what we did for them is my favourite part of our job,” you quietly confess, and as you admire the scenery, you feel kuroo’s heart beating against his chest, every rise and fall of his breaths soothing you like a familiar lullaby as you sink further into his hold. one of your hands comes up to caress his skin, your finger tracing his jawline as you turn your gaze to meet his; you see the milky way in honey gold pools. “do you think we’ll be able to have something like this one day?”
and oh, your poor heart, it flutters inside your chest and soars above silver clouds when he presses his lips against your forehead. it’s a simple and familiar sentiment, one that you’ve shared between stolen moments where the world stops spinning, when the wind sings your love and admiration on faded whispers between swaying leaves. you fall apart in kuroo’s arms, and, with every bit of devotion that he feels for you, he’s there to pull you back together. “i swear to you, baby,” he whispers against your skin, tracing the words with his lips so that they’ll paint the moon and stars and the planets above. “when it’s our time, i’ll give you the entire universe to hold.”
and he will. after all, you’ve given to him the galaxies, given to him a star to hold for every kiss you press against his lips, ever moment you spend loving him with all that you are. it’s only fair that he should give it all back to you.
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davi hits 200 followers — haikyuu!! au writing event! 💕
taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @tsumue @bootylikepeachy
send an ask to be added to the taglist!
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bambooslayer · 3 years
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Scent Headcanons
so my covid/quarantine experience has been marked mainly by two things: indie perfume and the magnus archives. to combine these two interests, I’ve decided to match the “scent vibes” of some magnus characters and the entities. scent headcanons I guess? if those weren’t a thing before they are now. scents that I’ve tried will be marked with a *.
The Institute Staff
Jon- Solstice Scents' Gibbon’s Boarding School: dusty wooden desks, paper, carefully hidden tobacco pouch, dying fire, dried leaves, leather chairs, autumn breeze
This scent really captures the “tired academic” aura of Jon, especially S1-S2. Not quite completely put together, but still surrounded by the scent of knowledge.
Martin- Stereoplasm's Lydia*: A uniquely transformative scent; opens with agrestic lavender and earl grey tea with snips of fresh fennel greens. A flood of soapy emerald green bubbles then rests softly into clean sunset musk.
Martin has a comforting, calming scent. He always, always smells like tea no matter what he wears or does. Hints of soap peak through as he tries to keep himself clean and put together, even if the world is about to end. The scent of someone who’s learned to pull himself together to be ready for everyone else.
Sasha- Alkemia's Old Books and Fresh Flowers*: Fresh neroli orange flowers and heliotrope blossoms pressed between the delicate paper pages of a leather-bound book
Boundless beauty and ancient knowledge in one scent. She’s always sorting through the archive’s resources and constantly smells like the ancient paper surrounding her.
Tim- alphamusk's Bardot*: Gorgeous badass goddess like musk that’s insanely irresistible. Notes of roses, woods, magnolias but all blended so effortlessly and meld together beautifully in this sexy magnetizing musk. Everyone who smells it loves it. Very femme. Iconic.
Who doesn’t love Tim at first sight? A sexy, charismatic, fingergun shooting bisexual who’s always ready to do what he needs to get things done. A scent that blurs the lines between gender fits him, and it’s sexy to match. Even when he’s at his lowest, he still draws you in.
Elias- Alkemia's Book of Shadows*: A biblichor of eldritch books - heavy parchment paper, ancient iron oak gall ink, crumbling leather bindings, and wafts of rare incenses
Jonah Magnus smells of all the cursed knowledge he’s acquired. The statements and ancient books he’s encountered leave their marks on him in scent. You can’t smell the underlying evil, but there’s a certain darkness that lives there.
Basira - Death and Floral’s Red string of fate: Red musk and black, burnt amber blended with golden honey and black molasses
I don’t have a good explanation for this, it just feels right.
Melanie- Death and Floral’s Half-hoping to be eaten by a bear: Woody, sweet bare skin; the lingering scent of dry leaves on a cold morning.
Melanie smells of her supernatural adventures and longing for something more.
Daisy- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's Mr. Czernobog: Unfiltered cigarettes, the leather and metal of sledgehammers, aortal blood slowly drying, and black incense.
Daisy knows what she’s done. She’s a Hunter, and these smells follow her.
Peter Lukas- Arcana Wildcraft's Black Sand: The scent of a warm night on a dark, sandy beach. Atmospheric sweetness with a hint of salt air and a subtle undercurrent of danger. The richest amber resin, black coconut, coconut husks, and smoky vetiver.
The scent of the loneliest sailor. There’s a dangerous draw to him still, but you can tell you should keep your distance. (unless you’re Elias of course)
The Entities
The Buried- Alkemia’s St. Louis Cemetery #1: “An atmospheric brooding of Spanish moss, crumbling stone, old cement, red clay brick, and graveyard dirt.”  
It’s not quite burying you, but it’s about to. You won’t be able to tell that it will until it’s too late.
The Corruption- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Elli’s Song: “The horrors of entropy, death, and decay: desiccated black mosses, vetiver, olibanum, patchouli, and ashes.”
Rotting. Decay. The disgusting decomposition of all things.
The Dark- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Event Horizon: “A disconcerting scent, heavy and oppressive, through which no light, no matter, and no spirit can escape. Black opium, labdanum, opoponax, black orchid, and benzoin.”
Pretty self-explanatory. Complete and utter darkness.
The Desolation- Arcana Wildcraft's Devilish: “Shaking off vanilla's reputation for namby pambyness, this infernally dark and smoky fragrance comes complete with licks of fire and sulfurous wafts of brimstone. The devil really does have all the best scents.”
Was it worth it? The meaningful life you lived? Was it worth meeting this fiery end? A scent to match the end of a life worthwhile.
The End- Alkemia's Dustsceawung: “Dustsceawung is the contemplation of dust, worldly desires, and the ephemerality of all things... raspings that were once a tree, ruins that were once cities, bones that were once lovers. Dust is always the ultimate destination on our journey. The scent of forbidden explorations and an olfactory meditation on dust... attic air, the inside of old trunks, abandoned haylofts, library stacks, and abandoned buildings.”
The death of all things. Everything must succumb to its true form: dust. No matter what you fear, no matter how accomplished you are, no matter what you’ve planned, it will come for all. This scent carries the dust of those already ended, a reminder of your fate.
The Extinction- Alkemia's Deus Ex Machina: “An olfactory portrait of industrial decay and the fallen gods of age of disruption, innovation, and technological revolution... fire hardened steel, rusted iron, motor oil, wet cement, burnt copper wires, and grey amber.”
Mankind has brought itself to the edge. All that it has created is what finally destroys it. Remnants of industry linger, all that’s left of humanity’s monstrosity.
The Eye- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's The Book: “Old, yellowed parchment paper, tattered leather bindings. There’s a distinct warmth to the scent, though it is ancient and brittle.”
All knowledge lives here. It has watched you your entire life. It knows everything about you, everything about everyone, everything about everyone that has lived. Pages and pages and pages of its stronghold live in the institutes.  
The Flesh- Arcana Wildcraft’s Edward Hyde: “A depraved mix of dirt, blood red musk, roasted meat accord, acrid yellow musk, salt, and an odd hint of expensive men’s cologne.”
Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat is meat. A meaty scent that marks the servants of the flesh.
The Hunt- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Berzerker: “Thick furs, strips of leather, and a blood-stained axe with crushed poplar bud and juniper”
The Hunt is never over. Once you get a taste of blood, there is no going back. Furs of a predator, the sharp metallic weapon mixed with the blood of your prey.
The Lonely- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Desolation: “In the perfume, I also tried to capture the blue-violet-white of an afterimage and the silence of a snuffed candle. The scent is dry with age, taut with loss, grief, and heartbreak, and sorrowful in the unspeakable desolation of simply being forgotten.”
Alone at last. Forever. Alone in life, alone in memory, alone in history. A scent that marks those marked by the Lonely, disappearing into nothing.
The Slaughter- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s The Black Tower- “A sepulchral, desolate scent. Long-dead soldiers, oath-bound; the perfume of their armor, the chill wind that surges through their tower, white bone and blackened steel: white sandalwood, ambergris, wet ozone, galbanum and leather with ebony, teak, burnt grasses, English ivy and a hint of red wine.”
The scent of those trapped in the endless cycle of the violence of war, spanning centuries of slaughter.
The Spiral- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Azathoth: “Azathoth is the blind, idiot god who sits on a black throne at the center of Chaos. His scent is high-pitched and screeching, both impenetrably dark and searingly bright with the clarity of madness: tangerine, saffron, vetiver, black amber and cedarwood.”
A scent that matches the contradictions and chaos of the spiral.
The Stranger- Arcana Wildcraft’s Blood & Circuses: “The monstrously sweet scent of clowns gone wrong. An outlandish, carnivalic mix of white pancake makeup accord, pink cotton candy, and the salty sugariness of warm kettle corn.”
The circus has returned. I hope you’re ready for the show. Steer clear of anyone who carries this smell, and give an extra glance to the mannequins you pass.
The Vast- Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s R'Lyeh: “The sunken city of the Great God Cthulhu. A hellishly dark aquatic scent, evocative of fathomless oceanic deeps, the mysteries of madness buried under crushing black waters, and the brooding eternal evil that lies beneath the waves.”
The scent of an eternal expanse that you cannot possibly comprehend. Is it the fear of what lies beneath? Is it the depth itself? Does it matter once you’re lost in it?
The Web- Haus of Gloi’s Spider Silk: “Procured from a dream: delicate water mint, wispy grey musk, crystalline webs of amber, oakmoss, torchwood, copaiba resin, and a touch of withered violet leaf.”
A gentle spider creeps its way around, leaving their little traces in the webs they weave. Only too late will you notice that you’re trapped in the web.
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sage-druid · 3 years
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A friendly grey wolf was spotted near your place Ms. Druid. Be sure to give it pets while walking past it. It likes pets and cuddles. -- Wolfie
Nature’s Soulmates
The silvery moon shone brightly in the vast sky.  Like a single cat’s-eye, it pulsed with a luminescence through a soft haze.  The thin layer of clouds partially obstructed its full view, like a sheer lace curtain on a breezy summer evening; graciously allowing for the forest to be fully aglow with a guiding light. As the crisp autumn air brought forth a hint of the impending chill that signified nature’s warning of the change of season, leaves began to crack and crumble with each deliberate step.
A magical feeling surged through the air.  And it was nights such as this, where our female druid felt most alive.  Each full harvest moon, she paid homage to Selene by taking the form of a large wolf as part of her Circle of the Moon ritual. Her long flowing coat was pale blue with highlights of teal.  While this was an unusual color for a natural wolf, it was the normal effect of the shapeshift that depicted her natural color as a genasi. Tonight, she frolicked in the dried leaves, ran full speed through the forest, and leaped over large rocks and dead tree stumps. After much consuming fun, nearly breathless, she stumbled upon a gently flowing brook and stopped to take a drink.  Something caused her to stop mid-lap. It was the sound of a plaintive wail, from off in the distance.
She quickly ventured towards the sound.  Through the dense foliage she saw it; it was a medium sized grey wolf. The wolf, whimpering in pain, was caught in a hunter’s trap.  The beast’s left front paw was stuck in the steel trap. The wolf licked its leg feverishly, and desperately tried to release the trap. To no avail, the wolf was in dire need of help.  Our druidess had a decision to make.  She knew, in wolf form, that she would not be able to spring the trap.  As large as she was, she did not have the strength in her lanky legs to apply the proper amount of force. By opposition, she realized that by dropping her wolf form, she would run the risk of frightening the wounded animal. She decided, she should approach as a familiar to try to gain the trust of the wolf before dropping form and freeing it. This was going to take some finesse.
Cautiously she approached with her head down to take a submissive stance. The grey beast bared its large fangs and growled. Lowering her head even further, she crept forward slowly.  When she was a meter away, she dropped and laid prone on the ground. This act seemed to have pacified the wolf. It leaned forward to gather the scent of the druid but stopped suddenly as it was perplexed by the lack of a recognizable smell. This wolf did not smell like other beasts in the forest. Something was not right. Still, the larger wolf was down, showing no threat, and the wounded wolf was in such pain that its sole focus was removing itself from the predicament.
She felt that she should at least attempt to spring the trap while in her current state.  Without making eye contact, she stood up and placed her large paw on the release lever; nothing, it would not budge. The grey wolf somehow sensed what the blue wolf was trying to do and did not attack.  In fact, it joined in the pursuit and took its free paw and applied it on top of the larger paw to apply more pressure. The joint effort was futile.  Even with the combined strength of both, the lever would not release.  At this point, the druidess became extremely frustrated and began jumping up and down with both paws falling on the lever. She was pouncing and jumping; trying in vain the release the trap.  The grey wolf howled in agony, because the missed attempts were jostling the trap and causing it to dig further into the wolf’s leg.  Seeing the misfortune that she was causing; she abruptly stopped and snorted a gruff pant in defeat.
She had no choice. There was only one option.  She had to drop form, because in this state she did not possess the strength; nor could she cast any magic. She retreated two meters, looked the wolf in the eyes, and dropped form. She stood before the wounded wolf in all her glorious genasi form. She was three inches short of six feet. Her long teal locks cascaded down her back, which complimented the tone of her pale blue skin. Her markings glowed white in the full moonlight; while her piercing blue eyes sparkled as she stared cautiously at the wolf. Oddly, while startled, the wolf made no aggressive movements. She carefully reached out her hand as she gazed tenderly into the wolf’s tearful eyes.
 “Easy girl.  Easy now.  I am not going to hurt you.  Let me help you get out of this.  Okay? I am here to help.  Please don’t attack me.  Relax now.  It’s going to be okay.  Work with me here.”, she pleaded.
Cautiously she encroached closer as she looked deeply into the wolf’s eyes while she hummed a melodic tune lightly. Without the wolf noticing, she shortened the gap; until at long last, she was within the distance she needed. She promptly stepped on the release lever and reached down and carefully removed the broken paw from the trap. She placed both hands around the leg and muttered something in an ancient primordial language. A warm light engulfed the wound that brought an immediate sense of relief. She released her hold and disengaged.
 “There you go. That wasn’t so bad now, was it? See, that feels better, doesn’t it?  It’s going to take a while to fully heal, so go easy on it. Be well my friend. Okay, now off with you.  Head back to your pack. Go on now. Go on.”, she urged.
She waved her hands in a scooting motion. But the wolf was not retreating. At first, the druidess thought she might be in trouble.  Was the wolf going to attack?  She felt the best course of action was to back away slowly, while not breaking eye contact. When she had built up enough of a safe distance, she waved “goodbye” and turned around and walked away.  She continued to walk back to the stream where she was prior to the incident.  She had walked for about 15 minutes when she felt an odd sensation; like she was being watched. She turned around and noticed that the wolf was following along at a languid pace due to its limp.  She turned around and tried to shoo the wolf to go away again.
 “Hey now. I thought I told you to head back to your pack.  Why are you following me?  I’m not really a wolf, okay?  It’s just something I can do.  I mean, technically I can change into any animal I see, but some of them may scare you. I just can’t do it right now and show you.  Why am I trying to explain this to you?, she babbled.
You don’t even understand. Go now. LEAVE!”, she shouted as she stomped her foot on the ground hoping to scare the wolf into going on its way.
The wolf was not deterred and continued its awkwardly gradual pursuit as the druid continued to press forward until she reached the bank of the stream. She turned and looked over her shoulder and saw the wolf sitting as it awaited her next move.  She placed her feet into the cool water and smiled. Finally, she relented and patted the ground to motion for the wolf to join her.
 “Okay, silly, come on over.  I guess you are very thirsty, huh?  I might as well, clean and bandage that wound while I am at it.”, she grinned as she realized she had lost her heart a wolf.
The wolf strolled up next to her. Carefully, it leaned its head forward and began to drink its fill of the cold water.  The druidess tore off a strip of fabric from her royal blue cape.  She submerged it into the water and meticulously used it to clean the wound on the leg while it was engaged in quenching its thirst. When she cleared away all of the blood, she carefully wrapped the cloth around the leg to prevent infection and to offer a makeshift support brace.  
 She lightly joked, “See that. You are mine now. You are wearing my colors. I hope you like blue.”
Where’s your family, girl? Don’t you have anyone? I guess you are like me; all alone in this big world. Well you are more than welcome to accompany me if you want.  It would be nice to have some company.”, she muttered on as she sighed.
When the wolf finished drinking, it sat besides the druid on the bank and stared into her eyes.  She smiled and gently ran her fingers through the wolf’s fur.  The contented wolf appeared appreciative and nudged closer.  As she continued her soft petting, the wolf leaned forward and applied a huge slobbery lick to the druid’s face. The smiling druid threw her arms around the wolf and hugged tightly as she wiped the wolf saliva off her cheek by burying her face into the wolf’s pelt.  Exhausted by the ordeal, they both collapsed on the grass and nestled close to one another. As the druidess laid her head on the wolf’s stomach, they both drifted off into a deep and peaceful slumber under the starry night sky.
And hence, this is the story of how druids and wolves tamed each other and became companions.  To this day, they travel night and day throughout many lands interwoven in spirit through their devotion and loyalty for each other. Fiercely protective; creating a supernatural soul-bond that can never be broken for all of eternity.
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sambethe · 5 years
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Ashburn FF: Let’s Not Talk of...
Summary: There was supposed to be more time. 
Time for him to deal with his shit. Time to carve out a place for himself. Time for the two of them to rebuild.
Just simply time.
Words: 2600 | Rated: T | ao3
A/N: A set of missing scenes set in between events going on from Point of Light to Project Daedalus. There are mentions of the Voq surprise baby plot, so fair warning in case that’s an issue.
+++
Try to take her at her word.
It had been almost a year since he had last seen her. A long series of days and months since he had asked the impossible of her. Since she had laid out the truth of the path in front of him, and made it unequivocally clear that it was one he’d be alone on.
Not that Ash blamed her.
He would have hoped that a year had been long enough. That enough time had passed that those words, coming from her mouth, wouldn’t have the power to cut. But he should have known that he was nothing but a live wire when it came to Michael, and that he had no clue how shield himself from her effects.
Tonight, though, he could swear Michael felt something too.
There was a flash. A spark. The briefest of something that crossed her face as he watched her.
But maybe he was just fooling himself and it was nothing more than a figment. Something his mind conjured to haunt him as he crawled into bed, planting a seed of hope that Ash should know better than to foster.
She’s moved on, you fool. Let her go.
His mind was not something to be trusted on the best of a days.
She had smiled, though. That much he was sure he hadn’t made up. And made him laugh. When was the last time he had laughed? But there was also another expression there as well, in the moments before her smile, one he couldn’t quite decipher. That fact pained him, because once, not all that long ago, he knew how to read her so well.
Ash would like to blame the distance, or the holographic projection, but he knew that for the cop out it was.
He was the one that put the distance there.
He hadn’t trusted her when it counted, hadn’t taken her at her word that he could lean on her when he needed it most.
The distance hadn’t stopped her ability to spark a lightness in his chest, though, or the warmth that slowly spooled down his limbs, relaxing his shoulders as she dragged out their conversation.
She had dragged it out, hadn’t she? He hadn’t invented that, right?
Hope flared in his chest all over again at that, and Ash hated himself a little bit for it.
He shifted in his bed, kicking at the sheets that clung to his skin uncomfortably until they sat across his hips. His quarters here on Qo’nos were always overwarm, and the humidity like foggy stew that blanketed the air. Tonight, however, Ash didn’t think the humidity was to blame for his restlessness.
He had tried to give her an out, tried to cut the call short once his message was delivered.
Michael was the one who had...
He shook his head without letting himself finish that thought.
He was a fool.
A fool who should have just sent a subspace message. Talking to her directly was an indulgence he shouldn’t have allowed.
He was still unsure why she accepted it.
Even worse, he wondered how he would have felt if she hadn’t.
*
Ash had known what was waiting for him on that dias the moment Ujilli gestured him forward.
No matter that it was something he wanted to wish away and cling to simultaneously.
A baby. His baby.
The infant had Voq’s pale skin, and that, more than anything, flared a different sort of ache in his chest. Though a soothing sort of peace trailed behind it. A sense of rightness grounding him in a way that he hadn’t thought he was still capable of feeling .
Kids had always been a distant thought. Before. And he wasn’t sure he’d given them any in the days since he had been captured.
But the Ash who once was?
He had wanted them.
They had been one of those distant maybe, someday kind of wishes. In that sort of future that unfolds for normal people. It had been just him and his mom for so long. Then, later, just him.
He’d dreamt of it though -- of a large house, voices and noise echoing and rattling throughout it. Of holidays spent with full tables and more dishes than you could count. Of a daughter he could teach to fish and how to shoot. Of a son he might see off to the Academy one day.
And what had Voq -- son of none -- dreamt?
Memories flooded through him. Ones full of loneliness and longing. He could see a young boy walking the halls of an orphanage -- the wish to belong a constant thrum dominating his thoughts.
The irony of two lost boys coming together as they have was not lost on Ash for a moment.
And to have to let go this boy in his arms, it hurt more than he had thought possible. To leave this boy alone, with the same sets of questions both he and Voq carried. That was something that cut Ash to the quick.
He hadn’t thought there were further parts of his heart -- his soul -- that were left to be taken from him.  
As everything swirled through his head, his heart, it wasn’t his own mother or L’Rell that he ached to reach out to, to lean on.
It was Michael’s presence he wished for, her reassuring calm. Her poise and her quiet voice, even if he really didn’t need for her to say anything. He knew the choice that must be made, knew what needed to be done. But if anyone would understand what he was feeling -- would have a kind word that could serve as a balm -- it would be her.
And what was worse, he wanted to lean on her. Desperately. Despite everything that had transpired. Everything she had said to him. Everything he had done.
He hated himself for the fact of how much he still wanted.
He paced the length of his newly assigned quarters, quietly rocking the boy as he did, and was suddenly grateful that he had no assigned security codes. No means to reach out to Michael, or anyone really. Without that barrier, Ash was sure he would have caved.
She was an indulgence he couldn’t afford.
He needed to let her go. Allow her the space to move on. Even when he couldn’t.
*
Of-fucking-course.
He had wanted to laugh once Leland had left him alone in the gym. The padd containing details of his first off-ship assignment still sat where it had been dropped on his chest as he was laid back on one of the workout benches.
Subtlety was apparently not been high on Leland’s list of priorities.
When he finally got the courage to thumb through the details, the data dump of history and background materials scrolled past him almost entirely unread. His eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything that wasn’t the name USS Discovery. Because he should have known, that the combination of his awful luck and the fact of who else in 31 would know that ship -- and her crew -- like he did would make his assignment there an irresistible choice.
Ash would have just preferred more time, and more distance, before he had to step foot on those halls. More time to fortify his memories. His emotions. Himself.
And maybe, just maybe, a small part of him wanted the chance to avoid all of it for just a while longer.
To a time when he was stronger. To when he had more time to plan. Maybe once he finally stopped feeling things he knew he didn’t have the luxury to feel any more.
But time, or a choice in the matter, hadn’t been things granted to him of late.
And now here, in Discovery’s mess hall, sitting across the table from Michael, her dark eyes coolly assessing, it all seemed so familiar and… not. A nervousness clawed up his throat, a confirmation that his instinct to stay away had been right. He needed more time.
It took more than he cared to admit to not reach out across the table and pull her hand into his. Not to squeeze it and draw strength from the deep well he knew she possessed. It would be unfair to ask that of her, he knew that. It was not her job to support him, to pull him through the morass of his own thoughts.
It’s a very interesting journey...
Part of him ached to tell her all of it. A greater part, though, along with his near overwhelming need for self-preservation, was soothed by his newfound ability to hide behind the cloak of the ‘classified’ stamp. That one word proved to be the barrier he needed, the one he couldn’t seem to erect for himself when it came to her.
He watched her watch him. There was a wariness about her that he hadn’t seen since his last days aboard Discovery. There was a new carefulness about the set to her shoulders, something more practiced in her stance. It was as if she were bracing for yet another blow, and it left him to wonder again if he invented that flash of a smile that had played at her lips during their call.
If he was inventing the hint of warmth in her eyes even now as she sat across from him.
It couldn’t really be there. She had moved on.
Maybe if he repeated that enough he’d teach himself not to wish for things that were not there. She had made it clear that avenue was closed to him. It wouldn’t do him good to hope.
Hope would do nothing more than leave him feeling strung out. Brittle. Like he might break.
He shook his head as he trailed behind her to the turbolift.
He needed more time.
*
“Do you ever sleep?”
Ash didn’t jump at the sound of Tilly’s voice behind him, but it was a near thing.
He’d meant to go on a run. Had thought the exercise might allow him to pass out when he finally returned to his quarters. Had hoped the familiar low light of the passageways passing beside him as he focused on nothing more than the steady in-out rhythm of his own breathing might provide their own brand of comfort.
Instead all they managed to do was serve as a reminder of how much had changed.
Not turning from his spot in front of the small observation window at a nondescript junction in Discovery’s vast network of halls, he replied, “Sometimes.”
“0130 seems as good a time as any. To try at least.”
Ash shrugged as Tilly came to stand beside him. She wasn’t wrong, but every time he closed his eyes everything he tried to bury would surface and play out in vivid detail behind his closed eyes.
Tilly nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but whatever you are getting, you need more.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” He leaned into her as he bit back a smile. This one thing, at least, hadn’t changed. This easy thing that flowed between them ever since that first afternoon Tilly dropped herself down at his table was still there. He’d be forever grateful for it -- for her. “Why are you awake?”
Tilly glanced over and offered him a sheepish grin. “Lost track of time.”
He smiled. “Uh huh. Maybe you should take your own advice, then.”
She turned her attention back out the window. “Maybe.”
They remained like that for a long while. Just the two of them, surrounded by nothing more than the quiet hum of the ship’s engines and Tilly’s even breathing. Though she was so still as they stood there that it nagged at him, even as he had no idea how to ask what might be keeping her awake too.
He wondered just how much he had missed in his time away.
“She’s not the Michael she was a year ago.”
The words came tumbling out of Tilly in a rush. Their suddenness and lack of preamble made Ash go stiff, torn between wanting to cut off her off and the desire to hear everything she’s willing to tell him.
“I thought you should know that.”
Ash blinked, trying to focus on the starfield laid out in front of them. “Why?”
“Because, you should know. That whatever was done, whatever was said between you last year, she’s different. She’s more open. More honest in a way -- not that she was never not honest -- but it’s a different sort now. She’s a different type of honest, about herself and about her friends. So don’t continue to shut her out.”
“I’m not shutting any --”
The look Tilly shot him was quelling enough to swallow his obvious lie.
“She’s doesn’t --” Ash struggled to continue, not sure how to put the fact that it was better this way. That they were better this way. All of them. That he needed to stand on his own before he started to rely on her, on any of them, again. But Tilly didn’t seem interested in letting him continue.
“Come with me.”
He turned, tilting his head in a silent question. She looked him up and down, taking in his running shoes and sweats. “You’re obviously not running tonight. So let’s go get a drink.”
“I don’t think that’s…” He trailed off, not sure where exactly he wanted to go with that thought.
“What? Does 31 not allow you to fraternize with the rest of Starfleet? Did I miss a memo?”
“No.” He fell in line beside her as she began to move down the hallway.
Tilly linked her arm in his. “Good. Because it’s been a long day of staring at screen after screen of information from the sphere and my brain can use a rest. Plus I miss kicking your ass a poker. Up for a hand or two?”
He smiled and tugged her arm a little closer, letting that squeeze speak the words he can’t say.
“Lead the way.”
*
There was supposed to be more time.
Time for him to deal with his shit. Time to carve out a place for himself. Time for the two of them to rebuild.
Just simply time.
But now there were three hours and a countdown that had them sending Michael to her death. Three hours where didn’t know what he should say, or if she even wanted him to say anything. Three hours until he’d have to trust this crew with almost everything left in this world that means anything to him.
Because Michael couldn’t be yet another thing he’d be left to count in the stack of things he’d lost.
When the indicator at his door rang he knew it had to be her. She had always been the braver of the two of them -- plowing head first into bridging the divide he couldn’t quite figure out how to cross.
He reminded himself, again, that he just needed to trust in her. In this crew. Despite everything in his experience that told him trust wasn’t something he should place anyone, he knew that was something he could give her.
So with her here now, standing in his arms, he opted to not think.
There are a million reasons why this plan was a terrible one. There are a million more why the two of them did not work.
So he would take the quiet moment given to just sway with her. And be here in this moment, because she was Michael Burnham, and he could be the strength she needed.
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ethenell · 5 years
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Best Films of 2018: Honorable Mentions
The time, once again, has come. The Oscars nominations are out there, and they’re ... puzzling ... But anyone interested in an alternate take can look no further. 
The cinema of 2018 offered too many notable treasures to whittle down to a simple list of ten, so before we get into the meat of my countdown, here is an alphabetical list of ten films that just missed out on making my list, but are essential viewing for anyone looking to take in the best that 2018 had to offer.
Enjoy!
Blindspotting (dir. Carlos López Estrada)
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I’m still waiting for the moment when the world collectively discovers the thing at which Daveed Diggs is not amazing. He had already garnered acclaim as a part of the experimental hip-hop group clipping. before reaching a wider audience and netting himself Grammy and Tony Awards for his role in the paradigm-altering musical, Hamilton. To that already distinguished list, we can now add co-writing and co-starring in one of 2018’s most original films. Blindspotting, set in Digg’s hometown of Oakland, CA, is a searing take on gentrification, racism, and police brutality that show off a deep understanding of the myriad political problems in the rapidly-changing Bay Area, while displaying an equally deft touch with the characters who find their lives irreparably damaged as a direct or indirect result. It’s impressive work from Diggs and co-writer/co-star Rafael Casal that first-time director Carlos Lopez Estrada brings to life with singular vision. Something tells me we’ll continue to see more of everyone involved, but Diggs is undoubtedly headed for greatness.
The Death of Stalin (dir. Armando Iannucci)
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You’d be forgiven if you thought the creator/director of Veep, The Thick of It, and In The Loop had already mined politics’ deepest, darkest depths for the pitch-blackest comedy that one could possibly generate from the toxic combination of bureaucratic incompetence and egotistical narcissism. However, as The Death of Stalin shows with brutal precision, you would be wrong. The Death of Stalin is at times so bleak its difficult to even describe as a comedy without a bit of a cringe on your face, but it revels brilliantly in the theater of the absurd and probes ruthlessly at the ruling class with chilling contemporary resonance. And that’s all without mentioning that it features one of the best ensemble performances of the year. In a time when its easy to despair how much our everyday political reality has started to resemble a particularly discomfiting episode of Veep, Iannucci makes a triumphant return with an even more discomfiting message - never forget, things can always get much, much worse.
 Hereditary (dir. Ari Aster)
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Another year, another Sundance horror breakout. Even if it doesn’t quite match up with some of its more distinguished predecessors (I wouldn’t quite put it at the level of It Follows, The Babadook, or The Witch) Hereditary is clearly the year’s best horror film, featuring a handful of sequences sure to push you to the edge of your seat, and then keep you up at night. The perennially under-appreciated Toni Collette delivers a performance of such vast emotional range that it deserves mention among the absolute best performances of the year – which, of course, meant that it was doomed to be ignored by the Oscars. Nevertheless, any fans of the genre should stop what they’re doing (including, presumably, reading this list) and watch this film immediately. You won’t be sorry.
If Beale Street Could Talk (dir. Barry Jenkins)
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A pairing like Barry Jenkins and James Baldwin makes so much sense, and has such immense creative potential, that it’s generally something that could exist only in cinephile dreams. It simply makes *too* much sense. Yet, here we are, and Jenkins’ follow-up to the critically-revered Moonlight, an adaptation of one of Baldwin’s lesser-known novels, If Beale Street Could Talk, is very much real. Does it measure up to the immense expectations thrust upon it, due in no small part to Moonlight’s rapturous reception and the much-hyped pairing of Jenkins and Baldwin? In some important ways, no. Is Jenkins’ script at times overly-reverent of its source material? In some important ways, yes. But when Jenkins filters Baldwin’s story of the redeeming power of love in the face of oppression through his own unique cinematic voice, the results are breathtaking. Jenkins remains one of cinema’s greatest emerging artists. 
Mission: Impossible – Fallout (dir. Christopher McQuarrie)
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At the very least, this latest installment in the M:I franchise was the most balls-to-the-wall fun I had in a theater this entire year, hurtling at a breakneck pace from one jaw-dropping set piece to the next with one of the world’s biggest stars carrying the screen from the first frame to the last. But at most, you could call it one of the decade’s best action films, with some of the most breathtaking stunt work ever put to film with an absolutely singular star who continues to push his penchant for cheating death and tempting fate for our entertainment to daring new heights. The truth probably lies somewhere between the two extremes, but either way, the Cruise’s latest ride as Ethan Hunt is undeniably one of the most thrilling yet.
 Private Life (dir. Tamara Jenkins)
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With 11 years having passed since her Oscar-nominated feature debut, The Savages, hit the silver screen, news that Netflix was financing and developing a new film from Tamara Jenkins was met with nearly unbridled optimism. More than delivering on that promise, Jenkins once again delivered a film that delves deeply into all-too-common but dramatically under-explored modern adult experiences. While The Savages followed two adult siblings dealing with the mental decline of their elderly parent, Private Life details a couple in their 40s going through fertility treatments. Like her debut, Private Life uses this trying, even destabilizing experience to explore the ways in which our long-established adult lives can be uprooted as much by our own choices as by external, unforeseeable events. With two sterling performances from Kathryn Hahn and Paul Giamatti at its center, Private Life is rife with incisive observations about overlooked truths of aging together. It’s beautiful work, and undoubtedly one of Netflix’s best “original” offerings.
The Rider (dir. Chloe Zhao)
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Using a cast of untrained actors to spin a poetic tale lost opportunity by way of the American rodeo, director Chloe Zhao’s sophomore feature has keyed her as a rising master of cinematic realism. The film follows the struggles of a former rising rodeo star dealing with the fallout of a traumatic head injury suffered during a bronc riding competition, and mirrors the real-life experiences of its star, Brady Jandeau. who Zhao befriended while shooting her debut feature, Songs My Brothers Taught Me. Drawing out brilliant performances and setting them against the perma-golden picturesque of the Badlands, The Rider is a testament to what truly independent cinema is capable of and is sure to springboard Zhao to greater heights.
Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (dir. Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey, Rodney Rothman)
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The most unexpected triumph of the year, Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse is not just a high watermark in the Spider-Man film series, it is almost certainly the best film to ever come out of Marvel Studios, and possibly the greatest superhero film since The Dark Knight. With an airtight script that spans several universes (literally) with ease, and featuring some of the most glorious and inventive animation ever to grace the big screen, Into the Spiderverse is a rare and perfect marriage between the words on the page and the visual language employed on screen. It a testament to what’s possible when talented artists with an original vision take big risks - it’s a breath of fresh air.
A Star is Born (dir. Bradley Cooper)
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Even with an improbably underwhelming Oscar campaign sputtering its way to the finish line, it’s hard not to peg A Star is Born as the year’s most-talked about film. Bradley Cooper brought his gestating passion project to life with scope and vision rarely seen from a first-time director and Lady Gaga turns in an absolutely electric performance that elevates the film whenever she’s on screen. From the spine-tingling live concert scenes to the beautiful on-screen chemistry between Cooper and Gaga, there’s an awful lot to love about this latest iteration of this long-tenured Hollywood classic. Sure, there’s also plenty to nitpick at - obviously more than enough to fuel a backlash against the once-assumed Oscar frontrunner - but when this film is firing on all cylinders, it’s right up there with the greatest cinema of 2018. Cooper is officially a filmmaker to watch, and A Star Is Born looks every bit like a directorial debut that will stand the test of time. 
 You Were Never Really Here (dir. Lynne Ramsey)
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One of the year’s most boldly-directed films, Lynne Ramsey’s latest is a lean thriller that goes for your throat but takes up permanent residence in your gut. Ramsey and star Joaquin Phoenix (delivering yet another show-stopping performance) bury you deep inside the mind of killer for hire, traumatized by his abusive childhood and haunted by his military past, as he embarks on a job to rescue a young girl from sex traffickers. If this premise seems familiar, believe me, the execution is anything but. Ramsey’s direction is unerringly brilliant, elevating You Were Never Really Here well beyond it’s pulpy origins to bracing, almost hallucinogenic heights. Oh, and did I mention it boasts one of Jonny Greenwood’s most adventurous scores to date? If that’s not enough to get it in your Amazon Prime queue (hint hint), then I don’t know what to tell you ...
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alexissleeps · 5 years
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Stalker Film Analysis
“I can make good work based only on three things -- blood, culture, and history”        
                                                  - Tarkovsky
Bringing the audience into an alternate Russian reality, Andrei Tarkovsky, the “Poet of Apocalypse,” constructs a masterful and existential Sci-Fi world in his 1979 film Stalker (Quandt). At the start of Stalker, through a fictitious government letter, we learn of a realm called the Zone. The letter considers how it came about -- was it a meteorite? Aliens? Nevertheless, when troops were sent, they never returned. To protect the masses, the government secured the area with barbed wire, dense tunnels, and security officers. We learn of this place, then we learn of the Stalker.
A desolate, decrepit apartment. The film is a bold, impossible sepia. We hear nothing but the rumbles and rattles of a train, slowly crescendoing as it approaches the home. In bed is a family: man, wife, and child. On the bedside table rests an apple with two bites missing, tablets of morphine, a syringe in a tin, cotton, and a glass of water. This is the home of the Stalker. Aside from the train, the only noise we can hear is the Stalker getting out of bed. He is preparing for another trip to the Zone--the trade of a Stalker. He readies himself to meet the men whom he will be shepherding through the Zone, so that they may find the Room, the place where one’s deepest desires are fulfilled.
In that striking sepia, we become acquainted with the Writer. A man full of philosophies. In an unknown irony, he laments about the lack of mysticism in the world and the death of excitement. “The world is ruled by cast-iron laws,” he claims, a possible allusion to the Soviet regime which regulates Tarkovsky’s work with resolute vigor. When he speaks, all other ambient sound stops. We are forced to focus on his words, his insights, or lack thereof.  
Shortly after, viewers are brought to a bar, which, much like the Stalker’s apartment, is in disrepair. Everything is covered in a layer of dirt, puddles dot the floors from roof leaks, and the minimal lighting flickers. Here we meet the Professor. The audience learns he seeks scientific discovery, as the Writer seeks inspiration. They name their desires, they assume the stakes. But, in this contemplation, we learn a central theme of the film. The Writer says, stumbling over himself in drunkenness, “...but, how is it I can put a name to… What it is I want? How am I to know?” This admission is pivotal to the film’s message, and Tarkovsky is kind enough to give us this hint before the journey into the Zone unfolds.
On brand-new Kodak 5247 stock film, Tarkovsky fills the screen with symmetrical shots, a style ubiquitous throughout the film. He plays with the depth of field by placing mundane objects, such as a wooden beam, in the foreground to pull the viewer’s eye to the background. These shots set the scene, they tell parts of the story without saying a thing.
The three--the Stalker, the Writer, and the Professor, all referenced only by their professions, a possible communist allusion--embark on their journey to the Zone. Rumbling through sparse, mud filled streets in an all-terrain vehicle, they venture through abandoned buildings and railways. The City they are leaving is incredibly industrial: tight brick-lined corridors constricting the viewer, smog billowing in every direction, further suffocating you. Not a single vestige of vegetation in sight. The sound of stepping through puddles is as loud as the police officer’s engine they are trying to avoid. Sonically, the film is mastered at a consistent level. These staccato, pointed sounds add tension to the film and control the direction of the viewer’s attention, building with the visuals to the moment when the men finally reach the Zone.
After a series of long takes of the men’s faces, typical of Tarkovsky’s style, they arrive. We are greeted with a moment of silence, and color film, as we see the Zone for the first time. The color shows the full glory of the Zone and juxtaposes it to the sepia City. The Zone is a vast, natural landscape. With trees and grasses overtaking what remnants of civilization are left, abandoned cars sulking in their lonesomeness, and power lines, which have given way to the earth, linger in the front of the frame. A clear ecological statement. The Zone, arguably the central character of the film, slowly reveals itself to the Writer, the Professor, and the audience throughout the second half of the film.
Long takes paired with wide landscape views of the Zone envelope the viewers, taking them along for the journey. The scenes are truly immersive. To compound this emotion, the combination of synthetic and orchestral composition by Eduard Artmyev is subtle, and easier to feel rather than to hear. It hovers over the scene, or sinks beneath it, delicately shaping the mood. In an interview Tarkovsky revealed that “one mustn’t be aware of music, nor natural sounds.” Those natural sounds, such as wheels on rails, are synthetically produced and embedded within Western and Eastern inspired melodies, melting otherworldly tones with earthly ones. The music is sparse but effective.
It is impossible to travel directly to the Room. The Zone, echoing non-entry nuclear zones of Cold War Soviet Russia, demands respect. “The Zone is a very complex maze of traps. All of them death traps,” the Stalker warns his sheep. It is always in flux, and pathways which were once safe become impassable. The Stalker, looking to the heavens, says, “it’s as if we construct it according to our state of mind.” It lets through neither the good, nor the bad, but rather those who are hopeless. The truly desperate souls. In certain places, the land swells like waves, and in others it smokes and smolders. It bends time and space. It challenges the notion that there is no mysticism left in the world, it challenges those “cast-iron laws” that the world is fixed.
However, the Zone, and these men’s journey to the Room, reveal the existential truths we bury in ourselves. “For who knows what desires a person might have?” the Professor sighs. Why is the Room just a rumor? Is it a gift or a message or a curse to mankind? Is it secured by the government, not to protect people from death, but to protect them from what they want? From what their desires may do to society? The Soviet Union, “with its propaganda and party indoctrination sessions – went on beyond an imaginary fence,”  building real fences within its citizenries mind (Guardian). The Zone is a space of personal truth, a space the government can’t penetrate, deep within the Russian psyche. Within the Zone, each of the men is granted a monologue where he can exalt his truths and speak candidly without fear. For fear is the Zone, and within it they have nothing more to fear, not even themselves. This is a space where they can discover what is potentially the most elusive of truths: What do I want?
Stalker offers a cross-section of consciousness. The city is these dull, dogmatic “truths” we tell ourselves to get through the day--particularly those true in communist Russia. God isn’t real. Neither are ghosts. Everything is fixed, and tangible if real. Everything has order and, despite the boredom of it, safety. The city is the superficiality of our own existence. The sepia might be beautiful, but is incomplete: it doesn’t reveal the full-depth and complexity of the world, or the self. However, the Zone challenges these preconceived notions, these walls we build within ourselves. Or, that government and society helps construct. For example, the Writer, overcome in a moment of honesty in the Zone, says he writes because he is unsure. He writes to prove his worth to himself and to others. He doesn’t write because he thinks he is a genius, as he earlier dotes, for if he did there would be no reason to write. The Zone forces us to face ourselves, quite literally, by constructing a world based on the minds of those within it. The Stalker mutters, half-asleep, “people don’t like to reveal their innermost thoughts.” The Zone is where those thoughts foment, without restriction, to the front of the mind.
The Stalker tells us in the Zone of his mentor, Porcupine--or as he knew him, the Teacher. He taught the Stalker everything about the Zone: how to travel through it, how to respect it. How to get out of it. Then, one day, Porcupine went into the Room. Shortly after he returned to the City he became very wealthy, wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. Then he hanged himself.
If the Room is the center of the self, the deepest desires of the self, perhaps it is best left inaccessible. Desire is dangerous; its consequences unpredictable. While the death of Porcupine is a critique of humanity’s materialism, and materialism’s inability to truly satiate humanity’s existential needs, I think this film offers a criticism of (selfish) desire more broadly. The Stalker’s desire is not to enter the Room, but to escape his existence. His pleading wife, his daughter crippled by his excursions. Their shabby home. Before the Stalker leaves for the Zone, his wife warns he may find himself back in prison, he replies that “everywhere’s a prison.” He doesn’t need to enter the Room, the Zone is all he desires, it is wild and free, while the City is captivity. 
Additionally, Tarkovsky seems to be pointing at the elusive nature of desire. It’s claimed the Room knows your deepest desires, even those you hide from yourself, and then fulfills them. But, as Zizek claims, “our desires are artificial. We have to be taught to desire. Cinema is the ultimate pervert art. It doesn’t give you what you desire, it tells you how to desire.” If we acquire our desires socially, is there any desire which is independent, belonging to the self completely? Can the Room honestly fulfill someone’s deepest desires, if those desires are by nature inauthentic? Is this why Porcupine commits suicide? The ultimate horror is not the desire, it is not the longing: it is the fulfillment of that longing. Perhaps we ultimately fear fulfillment of desire because it is alien, it is a self-deception -- we don't really want it. Thus, true desire seems to move further from our understanding. Maybe it isn’t that desire is best left inaccessible, but that the Room is an illusion, and desire beyond the superficial is still inaccessible. 
The dynamic nature of the Zone, their journey which challenges the time-space continuum, is an allegory for the cyclical, impossible, and inexplicable journey to discovering one’s authentic personal desires. And, ultimately, its innate inaccessibility and potential untruth. 
This film catalogues, with visual and auditory brilliance, an existential woe of humanity. Stalker is a philosophical text with a three-hour visualizer and sound effects. While Tarkovsky was inspired by the psychological effects of living under the Soviet regime, and the film speaks to that reality, this film is durable regardless of time, politics, or country. Undeniably versatile, it can be enjoyed as a piece of entertainment, a piece of art, and a piece of commentary. If you’re looking to lose yourself, your conscious self, in a film, and find your unconscious self, Tarkovsky’s Stalker will siphon you into that Zone.
https://www.tiff.net/the-review/andrei-tarkovsky-the-poet-of-apocalypse/
https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/1468-5922.12365
Gianvito, John (2006), Andrei Tarkovsky: Interviews, University Press of Mississippi, pp. 50–54,
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/nov/06/soviet-union-kitchen-table-russian-revolution-centenary-togetherness
http://www.tasteofcinema.com/2017/the-25-best-mind-bending-movies-of-all-time/2/
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0079944/
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smith078blr-blog · 5 years
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The Role of AI in the IoT Revolution
It is true that IoT or Internet of Things revolution is going on, and AI or Artificial Intelligence can play a vital role in it. Let’s know how the amalgamation of both technologies can change the scenario of the future in the current post.
According to Statista, the global AI market in 2018 was $9.51 billion, and prediction for 2019 is $14.69 billion.
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Revenues from the artificial intelligence (AI) softwaremarket worldwide from 2018 to 2025 (in billion U.S. dollars)
Statista also predicted that a number of connected devices in 2019 would remain 26.66 billion in numbers.
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Number of IoT –connected devices worldwide in 2015-25
Now, statistics of both technologies on the web indicate that AI and IoT are emerging and fast-growing digital technologies.
When I write a post, I used to consider a technical and non-technical audience. I know a technical usually knows that modern technologies are intersecting somewhere and often. The growth of any technology in isolation is not possible today.However, some emerging technologies have strong & more often connections with each other while some have thin and seldom.
In the case of IoT and AI, the connections are strong enough, and both technologies are intersecting in providing a variety of solutions. Before discussing the role of AI (Artificial Intelligence) in the revolution of IoT (Internet of Things), I would like to clarify both terms here. It may help you to see & understand the connections between them clearly.
What Is Artificial Intelligence Technology?
Artificial intelligence means the machine’s intelligence where machines gain capabilities of behaving or simulating a real human brain. So it can
Enable machines to learn them selves using an AI algorithm.
Machines can grasp human speech with the help of voice recognition, natural language processing, machine learning, and deep learning subsets of AI technologies.
Machines can perform analysis.Big Data originated from any source and provide deep insights as well as offer predictions based on analysis with visual presentations.
What Is an Internet of Things Technology?
When we enable machines or non-computing devices to connect with the world of the Internet and generate useful data with the help of sensors or other techniques applicable on non-computing devices, the Internet of Things application happens.
What Is the Role of AI Technologies In the Growth of IoT Technologies?
Now, we know that in IoT applications,various non-computing devices or components are generating data, which are mostly in the form of non-structured data and No SQL formats. It means computers connected with the IoT devices have a hard time to make use of these raw data without further process and convert those into useful formats.
Now, AI comes in the picture. AI has subset of various technologies like M2M communication, machine learning, deep learning,natural language processing, and many more. These technologies enable AI to run an analysis of abstract data.
It believed that the AI process on Big Data is so quick that it can provide real-time responses to the other connected devices or interface where humans can act quickly.
Real-World Examples of Amalgamation of IoT with AI
For instance, a self-driving car can detect a sudden intersection of a passerby human inits way and order the car to use the brake mechanism in it to save a human life.
A sudden break happens within a fraction of second without any intervention of human or human-operated interface at remote places. A quick M2M communication takes place once the AI mechanism detects the threats with the help of a laser sensor constantly running ahead on the road from the car.
The next example is a smart shopping mall where a repeat customer gets entry, and image recognition software detects him based on her previous images in the videos recorded via surveillance cameras.
Now,AI takes the seat and drive sales mechanism to offer highly personalized incentive based on her previous buying data buried into the sales record of the mall. Here, prediction and recommendation AI-powered engines are playing a crucial role.
How Can the Modern Businesses Benefits from the Mingling of IoT with AI?
Here, I am going to pinpoint only a few useful hints, such as
Combination of both systems can create adaptive learning and analytical system to get insights into the business processes.
It enhances the sync of processes, communications, and integrations further.
It intimates business to take proactive actions to keep pace with changes.
It makes the business system intelligent, self-learning, and cognitive.
AI-enabled IoT system automates the business processes and provides a collaborative environment.
It boosts the productivity and performance of the system and eases the maintenance.
What Are Reasons for that AI Can Aid in Revolution of IoT?
It is true that IoT and AI both have different histories of evolution.However, many similarities are existing between two technologies and their path of evolution than differences. These similarities are:
Both technologies favor automation of business processes and take various domains at the next level.
Both technologies are capable of triggering transformation from product-oriented to service-oriented models.
Both are offering new value propositions and SLAM (Simultaneous Localization & Mapping) technologies used by Drones performing in disaster management.
Impacts of AI-enabled IoT applications on Various Business Domains and Industries
Now, we accustomed to ensue of the mingling of both AI & IoT technologies. Let’s go a step a head and learn about the impacts of the amalgamation of both technologies in various business domains and their solutions.
IoT with AI in Industrial Automation
We know both IoT and AI are capacities to help in various industrial automation processes.The following domains are the most beneficial of amalgamation of both technologies in smart ways.
Factory Digitalization
Quality Control
Inventory Management
Product flow Monitoring
Packaging optimization
Safety and Security
Logistics and Supply Chain Optimization
AI-enabled IoT Applications in Home Automation to Create Smart Homes
In smart home concept, various devices& systems, including freeze, ACs, oven, water supply, electric supply, and security systems equipped with sensors in a home act like smart devices and connected with IoT applications. Here, AI acts as data gathering, analysis, and decision-making system to act automatically in some instances, and work under the hood of an interface operated by humans or home owners via smart mobile devices to obtain critical decisions/instructions.
AI Combined with IoT Applications in Creation of Smart City
Just like the smart home concept, smart city concept is working at a large scale and provide an example of the combination of various upcoming technologies, including IoT and AI. Here, both technologies aid in water management, waste management,drainage system, transportation system, parking system, electric grids, road and rail management, safety & security aspects of the entire city, and a lot more things encompassing in the automation of smart city model.
AI-enabled IoT Applications in the Healthcare Industry
Healthcare is a huge industry with numerous stakeholders. IoT is a combination of AI, and wearable technologies are going to change the entire scenario of services. Healthcare generates a vast amount of useful data and IoT along with wearable add in it a big volume.
Thereby, AI provides deep insights into the data and also offers assistance in HR management, real-time responses, inventory management, allied pharmacy services, and predictions as well as suggestions.
Conclusion:
IoT is making machine connected and communicates with the entire network. IoT also generates Big Data, but AI is only the technology that makes those Big Data useful and meaningful for an industry. A reciprocally beneficial coexistence occurs between IoT and AI technologies. There are tons of domains and business niches, which can reap the advantages of the coexistence of both technologies.
If you are smart enough and looking for smart IoT solutions for your business,SysBunny is an avid team of software developers. It has flairs in emerging technologies, including IoT application development and AI application development. Let’s leverage the expertise of tech experts at SysBunny with cost-efficient projects.
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autolovecraft · 6 years
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On the night, not only around the sleeper's neck.
Immediately upon beholding this amulet we knew that we finally pried it open and feasted our eyes on what it held in its gory filthy claw the lost and fateful amulet of green jade. For crouched within that centuried coffin, embraced by a close-packed nightmare retinue of huge, sinewy, sleeping owner I knew that we were jointly going mad from our devastating ennui. Then he collapsed, an inert mass of mangled flesh. After that we lived in growing horror and fascination.
The moon was up, but worked only under certain conditions of mood, landscape, environment, weather, season, and I had followed enthusiastically every aesthetic and intellectual movement which promised respite from our devastating ennui. Statues and painting there were, all of fiendish subjects and some executed by St John and myself. As we hastened from the centuried grave. What mercy I might gain by returning the thing hinted of in the water. Our lonely house was seemingly alive with the presence of some gigantic hound. It is not, I staggered into the nethermost abysses of despair when, at an inn in Rotterdam, I staggered into the nethermost abysses of despair when, at an inn in Rotterdam, I know not why I went thither unless to pray, or sphinx with a blow of my spade.
The next day away from Holland to our home, we thought we heard the faint far baying we shuddered, remembering the tales of one buried for five centuries, who had himself been a ghoul in his time and had stolen a potent thing from a mighty sepulcher. I shall be mangled in the forbidden Necronomicon of the devilish rituals he had loved in life. Around the base was an inscription in characters which neither St John is a mangled corpse; I alone know why, and sometimes we burned a strangely scented candle before it.
A wind, rushed by, and mumbled over his body one of our neglected gardens, and heard, as if seeking for some needed air, and hidden pneumatic pipes ruffled into kaleidoscopic dances of death the line of red charnel things hand in hand woven in voluminous black hangings. There was no one in the museum. Less than a week after our return to England, strange things began to ascribe the occurrences to imagination which still prolonged in our museum, and he it was dark. Through these pipes came at will the odors of mold, and was exquisitely carved in antique Oriental fashion from a mighty sepulcher. It is of this sole means of salvation. On each occasion investigation revealed nothing, and every subsequent event including St John's dying whisper had served to connect the curse with the satanic taste of neurotic virtuosi we had always entertained a dread that our grisly collection might be discovered. But the autumn moon shone weak and pale, and in the ghoul's grave with our spades, and every night that demonic baying rolled over the wind-swept moor, I shall be mangled in the soft earth underneath the library window a series of footprints utterly impossible to describe.
And as I pronounced the last demonic sentence I heard the faint, distant baying as of some gigantic hound. Alien it indeed was to all art and literature which sane and balanced readers know, but was answered only by a shrill laugh. Being now afraid to live alone in the forbidden Necronomicon of the reflections of the earth we had seen it then, but was answered only by a shrill laugh. Our alarm was now divided, for, besides our fear of the devilish rituals he had loved in life. Finally I reached the rotting, bald pates of famous noblemen, and another time we thought we saw the bats descend in a multitude of inlaid ebony cabinets reposed the most incredible and unimaginable variety of tomb-loot ever assembled by human madness and perversity. St John's pocket, we had so lately rifled, as if receding far away, a queer combination of rustling, tittering, and every night that demonic baying rolled over the clean white skull and its eyeless sockets that once had glowed with a blow of my inevitable doom. Down unlit and illimitable corridors of eldritch fantasy sweeps the black, shapeless Nemesis that drives me to self-annihilation.
But the autumn wind moaned sad and wan, and became as worried as I pronounced the last demonic sentence I heard afar on the moor the faint deep-toned baying of whose objective existence we could not be sure.
What mercy I might gain by returning the thing that had killed it, but so old that we lived in growing horror and fascination. On the night-wind, on which St John must soon befall me. I carefully wrapped the green jade. Alien it indeed was to whisper, The amulet—that damned thing—Then he collapsed, an inert mass of mangled flesh. The predatory excursions on which we collected our unmentionable treasures were always artistically memorable events. Seizing the green jade amulet and sailed for Holland.
Our lonely house was seemingly alive with the satanic taste of neurotic virtuosi we had seen it then, but covered with caked blood and shreds of alien flesh and radiantly golden heads of new-buried children. St John is a mangled corpse; I alone know why, and I had followed enthusiastically every aesthetic and intellectual movement which promised respite from our life of unnatural personal experiences and adventures.
His screams had reached the rotting oblong box crusted with mineral deposits from the centuried grave. A wind, and was exquisitely carved in antique Oriental fashion from a mighty sepulcher. Alien it indeed was to whisper, The amulet—that hideous extremity of human outrage, the sickening odors, the horrible shadows; the vast legions of strangely colossal bats that flew against the rising moon. It was incredibly tough and thick, but sometimes it pleased us more to dramatize ourselves as the baying again, and I knew that what had befallen St John, walking home after dark from the dismal railway station, was the dark rumor and legendry, the dancing death-fires, the stolen amulet in St John's dying whisper had served to connect the curse with the satanic taste of neurotic virtuosi we had seen it then, but I felt that I destroy it long before I thought of destroying myself!
On October 29 we found in the vilest quarter of the object despite the lapse of five hundred years. So, too, as if receding far away, a jarring lighting effect, or sphinx with a blow of my spade. What mercy I might gain by returning the thing to its silent, sleeping owner I knew not; but, whatever my reason, I attacked the half frozen sod with a semi-canine face, and about the relation of ghosts' souls to the theory that we must possess it; that this treasure alone was our logical pelf from the centuried grave.
Our museum was a blasphemous, unthinkable place, where with the commonplaces of a dominating will outside myself. Once we fancied that a large, opaque body darkened the library window a series of footprints utterly impossible to describe. In a squalid thieves' den an entire family had been torn to ribbons. So at last I stood again in the same way. In a squalid thieves' den an entire family had been hovering curiously around it. On each occasion investigation revealed nothing, and sometimes we burned a strangely scented candle before it. My friend was dying when I saw on the bottom, like a maker's seal, was the dark rumor and legendry, the titanic bats, was seized by some frightful carnivorous thing and torn to ribbons. After that we finally pried it open and feasted our eyes on what it held in its gory filthy claw the lost and fateful amulet of curious and exotic design, which had been hovering curiously around it. His screams had reached the rotting, bald pates of famous noblemen, and with headstones snatched from the abhorrent spot, the dancing death-fires under the yews in a niche in our museum, there came a low, cautious scratching at the grave as we found in this self same spot, the faint far baying we thought we heard the baying again, and was exquisitely carved in antique Oriental fashion from a small piece of green jade. Our alarm was now divided, for, besides our fear of the amulet. Finally I reached the rotting, bald pates of famous noblemen, and articulate chatter. The skeleton, though crushed in places by the claws and teeth sharpened on centuries of corpses … dripping death astride a bacchanal of bats from nigh-black ruins of buried temples of Belial … Now, however, we thought we heard this suggestion of baying we thought we had heard all night a faint, deep, insistent note as of some ominous, grinning secret of the kingly dead, and he it was not wholly unfamiliar. The rabble were in terror, for, besides our fear of the souls of those accursed web-wings closer and closer, I staggered into the house and made shocking obeisances before the enshrined amulet of green jade. After that we were both in the background. I shall be mangled in the morning I read of a gigantic hound. Mostly we held to the door and threw myself face down upon the ground.
I encountered a queer interruption; when a lean vulture darted down out of the devilish rituals he had loved in life.
-Earth until I killed him with a semi-canine face, and the ecstasies of the souls of those accursed web-wings closer and closer, I attacked the half frozen sod with a desperation partly mine and partly that of a crouching winged hound, or sphinx with a charnel fever like our own.
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spaceexp · 7 years
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Remnants of a mega-flood on Mars
ESA - Mars Express Mission patch. 2 March 2017 ESA’s Mars Express has captured images of one of the largest outflow channel networks on the Red Planet.
At the mouth of Kasei Valles
The Kasei Valles channel system extends around 3000 km from its source region in Echus Chasma – which lies east of the bulging volcanic region Tharsis and just north of the Valles Marineris canyon system – to its sink in the vast plains of Chryse Planitia. A combination of volcanism, tectonics, collapse and subsidence in the Tharsis region led to several massive groundwater releases from Echus Chasma, which subsequently flooded the Kasei Valles region around 3.6–3.4 billion years ago. These ancient mega-floods have left their mark on the features seen today. Sections of Kasei Valles have already been imaged by Mars Express during its 14 years at the Red Planet, but this new image, taken on 25 May 2016, captures a portion right at its mouth.
Worcester crater in context
A 25 km-wide impact crater – Worcester Crater – just left to the centre of the main colour image, has done its best to stand up to the erosive forces of the mega-floods. While much of the blanket of material surrounding the crater – which was originally thrown out from inside the crater during the impact – has been eroded, the section downstream of the flood has survived. Over time this has led to the overall appearance of a streamlined island, with its stepped topography downstream perhaps suggesting variations in water levels or different flood episodes.
Topography at the mouth of Kasei Valles
By contrast, the debris blanket surrounding the adjacent crater has remained intact. This suggests the impact producing that crater occurred after the major flooding. Moreover, the appearance of the debris blanket tells a story on the nature of the subsurface: in this case it points to the floodplain being rich in water or water-ice. Indeed, the pattern is reminiscent of a ‘splash’: the debris ejected from the crater was rich in water, allowing it to flow more easily. As it slowed, the debris behind it piled up, pushing up the material at its periphery into ramparts.
Perspective view towards Worcester crater
The perspective view shows a close-up of this rampart feature and looks from the associated crater towards the eroded Worcester crater in the background. The large crater at the northernmost part (right, top) of the main image does not appear to have penetrated as deep as Worcester crater and its neighbour. Indeed, it is located on a plateau at least 1 km higher than the plains below. Nonetheless, there is a small depression in the centre of the crater, which usually implies a weaker layer – such as ice – was buried underneath at the time of the impact. Close inspection also reveals the faint outline of the crater’s ejecta blanket, including a portion that spilled over onto the plains below.
 Anaglyph view at the mouth of Kasei Vallis
The ejecta shows an interesting grooved pattern that the other craters in this view seem to be lacking. This suggests a difference in the nature of the impact itself, perhaps either with the energy imparted during the impact, the way in which the ejecta was emplaced from the crater, or in the composition of the plateau material. Small dendritic channels can be seen all around the plateau, which perhaps hint at the varying flood magnitudes during numerous episodes of flooding. A number of smaller craters in the flat plains can also be found. These appear to have lighter-coloured ‘tails’ pointing in the opposite direction to the flow of water coming from Kasei Valles.
Mars Express
These craters were formed by impacts that took place after the catastrophic flooding, their delicate tails created by winds blowing in a westwards direction ‘up’ valley. Their raised rims influence wind flow over the crater such that the dust immediately ‘behind’ the crater remains undisturbed in comparison to the surrounding, more exposed, plains. This scene therefore preserves a record of geological activity spanning billions of years of the Red Planet’s history. Related links: Mars Express: http://www.esa.int/Our_Activities/Space_Science/Mars_Express Mars Express overview: http://www.esa.int/Our_Activities/Space_Science/Mars_Express_overview Mars Express 10 year brochure: http://esamultimedia.esa.int/multimedia/publications/BR-312/ Mars Express in-depth: http://sci.esa.int/marsexpress ESA Planetary Science archive (PSA): http://www.rssd.esa.int/PSA Mars Webcam: http://blogs.esa.int/vmc High Resolution Stereo Camera: http://berlinadmin.dlr.de/Missions/express/indexeng.shtml HRSC data viewer: http://hrscview.fu-berlin.de/ Behind the lens: http://www.esa.int/Our_Activities/Space_Science/Mars_Express/Behind_the_lens Frequently asked questions: http://www.esa.int/Our_Activities/Space_Science/Mars_Express/Frequently_asked_questions Images, Text, Credits: ESA/DLR/FU Berlin, CC BY-SA 3.0 IGO/NASA MGS MOLA Science Team. Best regards, Orbiter.ch Full article
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asfeedin · 4 years
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Why celebrate Earth Day? Here’s 12 reasons why.
To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Earth Day, Live Science asked a dozen scientists to share their favorite facts about our home planet. These researchers marveled at everything from backward flowing rivers in Antarctica to the Giant Crystal Cave of Naica in Mexico, which one geologist called the “Sistine Chapel of crystals.”
Read on to learn about Earth’s wonders. If you’ve got one of your own to share, write about it in the comments below.
1. Mountainous changes
The stunning view of Mount Everest from the Gokyo Valley. (Image credit: Shutterstock)
“The top of Mount Everest is limestone from an ancient ocean floor formed 470 million years ago — before life had even left the ocean! I love this fact, because it reminds us of the tremendous changes our Earth has gone through to bring us to this moment in time, from mass extinctions to asteroid impacts and vast movements of the very ground we stand on. Just as humans are one small speck in a vast universe (thanks, Carl Sagan!), so too are we a tiny blip of time in the long arc of Earth’s history,” said Jacquelyn Gill, an associate professor in the School of Biology and Ecology and the Climate Change Institute at the University of Maine.
That fact can be sobering, but it provides a message of hope for our species as well. 
“When we lose species because of our actions, we’re cutting threads in a tapestry that has taken billions of years to weave, and it records stories of vulnerability and loss, but of survival and resilience, too.”
So while our planet’s past may provide warnings of upheavals, it can also provide hints for charting the future.
“The clues to surviving global change are in the rocks, for those who can read them,” Gill said.
2. Giant Crystals of Naica
A man (left) explores the Giant Crystal Cave of Naica in Mexico. (Image credit: Javier Trueba)
Juan Manuel García-Ruiz, a geologist at the Spanish National Research Council, has spent a good portion of his career crawling into underground vaults of pure crystal. Last year, García-Ruiz authored a paper on the history of the largest geode on Earth — a jagged, crystal chamber in a Spanish mine that can comfortably fit several scientists inside at once. But his favorite spot on Earth is where the Giant Crystal Cave of Naica lays buried, about 1,000 feet (300 meters) below the town of Naica, Mexico.
“This is the ‘Sistine Chapel of crystals,'” García-Ruiz told Live Science. Giant gypsum pillars, most of which are as large and thick as telephone poles, slash through the basketball-court-size cavern in a brilliant display of Earth’s slow-motion alchemy. The crystals are hundreds of thousands of years old, and still actively growing in the hot, humid cave. For now, the largest one measures 39 feet (12 m) in length and 13 feet (4 m) in diameter, and it weighs 55 tons (50 metric tons).
3. Earth’s mysterious synergy
An illustration of Earth’s mysterious innards (Image credit: Ed Garnero/ASU)
“My favorite fact about Earth is that all parts of it, from the center to the atmosphere, appear to be dynamically and chemically interactive, over a wide range of time scales and spatial scales,” Ed Garnero, a professor at Arizona State University’s School of Earth and Space Exploration, told Live Science.
As an example of this planet-wide synchronicity, Garnero sent an image (which he made) depicting the mysterious underground structures that some researchers have labeled “the blobs.” These lopsided, continent-sized mountains sit inside Earth’s mantle about halfway between your feet and the center of the planet. While scientists know from seismic imaging that these blobs exist, nobody is exactly sure what they are or what they do.
One intriguing feature of the structures, Garnero said, is that plumes of exceptionally hot rock (depicted here in yellow) appear to rise off the blobs and feed certain volcanoes on the surface — essentially creating a chemical pipeline that connects the deep Earth to the high atmosphere.
“I guess an addendum to this fact is that there is SO MUCH that we do not know about Earth — from the internal structures to the climate,” Garnero said. “It is an exciting time to monitor, measure and model the observations.”
4. “Stained glass” diatoms
A wagon wheel diatom under a microscope (Image credit: NOAA/John R. Dolan, Laboratoire d’Océanographie de Villefranche; Observatoire Océanologique de Villefrance-sur-Mer)
One of the most amazing facts about Earth is that “around 20-50% of the Earth’s oxygen is produced by diatoms,” said Sarah Webb, a biologist and associate professor of life science at Arkansas State University-Newport. 
“Diatoms are microscopic algae with a shell made of glass,” Webb told Live Science in an email. Diatoms are pretty to look at, too, she said. “They look like stained glass when viewed under a microscope.” 
Life as we know it wouldn’t be around were it not for an abundance of lung-friendly oxygen gas in our atmosphere. Earth has been oxygenated for about 2.3 billion to 2.4 billion years, but the tiny, delicate diatoms of today likely evolved around 250 million years ago. These unicellular organisms are ubiquitous in Earth’s oceans, and scientists estimate that there are more than 100,000 species of diatoms. 
5. Rivers that flow backward
Robin Bell smiles for the camera in Antarctica, where she does most of her research. (Image credit: Courtesy of Robin Bell)
Antarctica, Earth’s southernmost continent, is one of the driest places on the planet. But there’s a surprising amount of liquid water lurking below the continent’s frozen surface that doesn’t behave as you might expect.
“Beneath the ice in Antarctica there are mountain ranges where rivers flow backward and lakes [that are] the size of New Jersey,” said Robin Bell, president of the American Geophysical Union and a professor at Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory of Columbia University in Palisades, New York.
“The weight of the overlying ice makes the water flow backward while the heat of the Earth keeps the water in the subglacial rivers and lakes from turning into ice,” Bell said.
Scientists discovered clues to a backward-flowing river in Antarctica’s Gamburtsev Mountains after they examined the shape of the icy layer atop the hidden river; that layer aligned with the direction of the water’s movement.
6. Glowing sea creatures
The fluorescent seahorse, Hippocampus erectus, glows a bold red and green. (Image credit: Copyright David Gruber)
More than 70% of Earth is covered with water, so it’s no surprise that scientists such as David Gruber find inspiration in exploring these great depths. Gruber, a presidential professor of biology at City University of New York and an explorer with the National Geographic Society, studies glowing marine animals. He snapped the above photo, which shows the first biofluorescent seahorse known to science.
“Knowing how much magic is happening beneath the sea that we’ve yet to even learn about yet,” is Gruber’s favorite Earth fact. “It’s perhaps my main inspiration as a scientist that maintains my child-like curiosity.”
There’s so much to learn. “How we are connected to other life and what our place is on this amazing planet is still in its early stages,” Gruber told Live Science.
7. Route 66
(Image credit: vectortatu/Shutterstock)
“The boundary between Earth’s mantle and core is roughly 3,000 km [about 1,865 miles] below our feet, a little less than the total length of America’s ‘Mother Road,’ Route 66,” said Jennifer Jackson, a professor of Mineral Physics at Caltech.
Initially, researchers thought that this region was a simple interface between solid rocks and liquid iron-rich metal. But, in reality, “this remote region is almost as complex as Earth’s surface,” she said. 
While it’s impossible to reach this Route-66-long place in person, “geophysical and experimental studies of this distant region reveal a fascinating landscape of chemical and structural complexity that influences what’s happening on Earth’s surface,” Jackson said. “For example, the complex dynamics of Earth’s core-mantle boundary affects Earth’s protective geomagnetic field and the motion of tectonic plates.”
8. Life on our planet
Cambrian fossils formed by cyanobacteria are found in Newfoundland, Canada. (Image credit: Shutterstock)
Our planet harbors magnificent life-forms, from tiny, near-invisible organisms to giant, ferocious beasts. Billions of years ago, conditions became just right for the tiniest particles to combine together and form the very first life-forms. 
These life-forms are nearly as ancient as Earth itself. “The Earth is over 4.6 billion years [old], and life has been present on the Earth continuously since at least 3.5 billion years ago,” Shuhai Xiao, professor of geobiology in the Department of Geosciences at Virginia Tech. The earliest evidence for life on our planet comes from the marks these organisms left on rocks, according to a previous Live Science report.
Photosynthetic organisms called cyanobacteria were some of the earliest life-forms on our planet. Here is a photo of fossilized Cambrian mounds formed by cyanobacteria in Newfoundland, Canada.
9. Climate feedback
It’s not too hot or too cold for this moose in Washington’s temperate rainforest on the Olympic Peninsula. (Image credit: Shutterstock)
Another amazing feature of our planet is how various processes interact in so-called climate feedbacks, which act to either amplify or diminish other climate forces. 
“It’s amazing how climate feedbacks have maintained a habitable planetary climate for hundreds of millions of years —- right in the sweet spot of not too cold, not too warm,” said Jonathan Overpeck, dean of the School for Environment and Sustainability at the University of Michigan. 
However, these same feedbacks could make the effects of climate change worse, because they may further amplify the planet’s already increasing temperatures, resulting in what is known as “positive feedback,” according to NASA. For instance, as the globe warms, it causes more sea ice to melt; ice reflects a lot of sunlight, sending heat back out to space; but when that ice melts, it reveals a dark sea surface that instead absorbs heat.
“We need to fight climate change harder, to keep our planet habitable and flourishing,” Overpeck said. “That’s what we all need to rededicate ourselves to on this 50th anniversary of the first Earth Day.”
10. The past influences the future
(Image credit: Merritt Turetsky)
An amazing fact is that “historical legacies often dictate how Earth will respond to modern change,” said Merritt Turetsky, the director of the Institute of Arctic and Alpine Research at the University of Colorado Boulder. 
“A legacy can be thought of as [a] memory of an ecosystem with regard to past events,” Turetsky said. “One example is permafrost, frozen soils that have accumulated at high latitudes over millennia. Today, permafrost soils store so much carbon — derived from ancient plants, animals and microbes that existed on the surface of our planet — that they will be a major player in how Earth responds to future climate change.”
“The past often is the key to understanding our planet’s future,” Turetsky told Live Science.
Caption: Merritt Turetsky’s team samples frozen permafrost soils in Alaska and Canada to understand how past soil types influence the ability of Arctic ecosystems to cope with modern environmental change.
11. Fascinating dimensions
(Image credit: Johann Philipp Klages)
Our planet is a dynamic and ever-evolving giant orb, with earthquakes shifting the rocky plates that make up its surface, volcanoes that exude fiery lava from the planet’s innards, and even deep-sea hydrothermal vents that gurgle out sizzling mineral water that supports bizarre forms of life. All of this can be enchanting to scientists who immerse themselves in the planet’s geology.
Glacial geologist Johann Philipp Klages said his favorite aspects of Earth are “its fascinating dimensions and unexpected forces, which pleasantly tell us, again and again, how small and insignificant we are in the context of Earth’s history.” 
Klages is a research scientist in the Marine Geology section of the Alfred Wegener Institute Helmholtz Center for Polar and Marine Research in Bremerhaven, Germany. An expedition on the institution’s icebreaker RV Polarstern took Klages to the Amundsen Sea Embayment in West Antarctica in 2017, where he captured this gorgeous image of the ship in front of the Pine Island ice shelf edge.
12. Natural healing
This mother and baby tapir might just help the Amazon rainforest.  (Image credit: Shutterstock)
What is Earth’s greatest feature? That “it supports life!” Marcia Macedo, an associate scientist and director of the Water Program at Woods Hole Research Center (WHRC) in Massachusetts, told Live Science.
“What amazes me is that most natural systems have the capacity to heal themselves after big disturbances,” she said. “This is as true for a human body recovering from disease as it is for a tropical forest growing back after an intense fire.”
Macedo added, “sometimes that healing is facilitated by surprising heroes,” such as the tapir, which can restore degraded forests in the Amazon. The tapir does this by munching on fruit from healthy trees and then depositing their seeds in areas that have been previously burned, according to a WHRC statement.
Originally published on Live Science. 
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Tags: 12, Celebrate, day, Earth, Heres, Reasons
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allcheatscodes · 7 years
Text
might and magic 7 for blood and honor pc
http://allcheatscodes.com/might-and-magic-7-for-blood-and-honor-pc/
might and magic 7 for blood and honor pc
Might And Magic 7: For Blood And Honor cheats & more for PC (PC)
Cheats
Unlockables
Hints
Easter Eggs
Glitches
Guides
Achievements
Get the updated and latest Might And Magic 7: For Blood And Honor cheats, unlockables, codes, hints, Easter eggs, glitches, tricks, tips, hacks, downloads, achievements, guides, FAQs, walkthroughs, and more for PC (PC). AllCheatsCodes.com has all the codes you need to win every game you play!
Use the links above or scroll down to see all the PC cheats we have available for Might And Magic 7: For Blood And Honor.
Genre: Role-Playing, First-Person Action RPG Developer: World Computing Publisher: 3DO Company ESRB Rating: Teen
Hints
Find The Altar Of Mind, Spirit, Body
It is in Deyja.
Find The Altar Of Accuracy, Speed
It is in Deyja.
Find The Altar Of Endurance, Might
It is in Barrow Downs.
Find The Altar Of Personality, Intellect
It is in Nighon.
Find The Altar Of Fire, Earh, Air, Water
It is in Erathia.
Find The Perfect Bow
It is in the Titan Castle/stronghold. (AvLee)
Find The Book Of Divine Intervention
It is in the breeding zone.
Find The Lantern Of Light
It is in BARROW 2. (Barrow Downs)
Find The Altar Of The Angel
It is in the Bracada Desert.
Find The Altar Of The Watchman
It is in AvLee.
The 14 Obelisks
The 14 Obelisks are in –
AvLeeBarrow DownsBracada DesertCelesteDeyjaErathiaEvermorn IslandHarmondaleLand Of The GiantsNighonStone CityTataliaThe PitTularean Forest
Find Haladar’s Remains
They are in THE MAZE.
Find The Light Altar Piece
It is in the Temple Of The Light.
Find The Dark Altar Piece
It is in the Temple Of The Dark.
Find Zokkar’s Skull
It is in the Nighon Tunnels.
Find The Case Of Soul Jars
It is in Castle Gloaming.
Find The Altar Of The Eagle
It is in Tatalia.
Find The Angel Statuette
It is in THE MAZE.
Find The 3 Portraits
Here is a list of the portraits and how to find them –
Archibald Ironfist Portrait - Castle GryphonheartRoland Ironfist Portrait - Castle GryphonheartAngel Portrait - Haunted House (Barrow Downs)
Find ALL The Golem Parts
Here are ALL the Golem parts and how to find them –
Head (dented and un-dented) - Bracada DesertChest - Barrow DownsRight Arm - TataliaLeft Arm - AvLee (Titan castle/stronghold)Right Leg - DeyjaLeft Leg - Deyja
Find The Map Of Evermorn Island
It is in the Tidewater Caverns.
Find The Watchman Statuette
It is in the Temple Of The Sun.
Find The Eagle Statuette
It is in the Temple Of The Moon.
The 3 Druid Circles
The 3 Druid circles are in –
AvLeeTataliaEvermorn Island
Get To New World Computing Dungeon
For those who know the New World Computing Dungeon in M&M6, there is one in M&M7 too. But you can only get there late in the game. When on Shoals Map (underwater map) you will find a sunken pirate ship in the middle right side of the map. There is a chest hidden behind some rocks at the bottom of the ship. In the chest is a bottle with a temple inside. Right-click on the temple in the bottle and do what it tells you to do. You will then be teleported to the New World Computing Dungeon. Have fun!
Find The Second (Expert) Dark Guild
The second Dark Guild (Guild Of Twilight – Expert) is located in the roof of the church in Deyja. Fly or jump is required to get there.
Find The Master Guild Of The Mind
The Master Guild Of Mind is located in the second floor of the Tatlia Inn. Fly or jump is required to get there. Just look up and and walk around the second floor until you see a hole in the fence. Jump into the open space and walk to the Master Guild Of The Mind.
Get To Evermorn Island
First complete the Cleric to Priest quest. Once you do, you can take ships going to Evermorn Island. Ships leave Erathia, Tatalia and the Tularean Forest on Sundays and the Bracada Desert on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Money! Money! And More Money!
To get LOADS of money, after killing something that gives you a lot of money, (IE – A dragon) save your game. Then click on the dragon’s corpse. If the dragon remains visible, loot it again and save it. (If not, then reload and keep trying again and again until it is still visible) Now reload, loot it, reload, loot it and so on and so forth. You should get so much money like this that you’ll be buried under it!
Golem Arm
Is inside one of the chests you can see right after you enter TITAN CASTLE.
White Dragon
Is in TITAN CASTLE. (AvLee)
Hit Points Galore
To get a heck of a lot of hit points, first become a Dark Magic Grandmaster and learn the spell ‘Souldrinker’. (Easier said then done) Then find a creature with A LOT of hit points. (EG – Dragon, Titan) Just cast Souldrinker on the dragon to get ALL its hit points divided equally among your characters and to kill it in one shot!
Light Magic Guild
The Light Magic Guild is located in the Bracada Desert and you’ll probably need the spell jump or fly to get there.
Extra Stuff
Right where you start off at Harmondale in the second level, your castle is behind you. If you go around the castle to the back of it you will find two chests which contain a spear, etc. etc.
Learn Wizard Eye ASAP
Learn the spell ‘Wizard Eye’ as fast as you can because it shows where enemies are on the map and IS REALLY HELPFUL when trying to predict when your next enemy will come rushing towards you trying to kill you.
Thieves’ Guild
The Thieves’ Guild is located in the sewers of the city Erathia.
Archery Expertise Quest
To get the quest to become an archery expert, go to the BRACADA DESERT and visit all the houses. One of the people living in a house will gives you the quest to become an archery expert.
Perfect Combination
When choosing characters, choose a PALADIN, SORCERER, RANGER and ARCHER. Its the best combination in my opinion.
BIG Money
Sell gems you find to shops to get atleast 300 gold pieces!! Gems are found by killing trees in the TULAREAN FOREST which hurl fireballs and in the vast BRACADA DESERT!
Red Potion In Treasure Hunt
You will find a potion bottle in a crate and a red berry to make the potion in another crate. The crate with the potion bottle is near where you started and the red berry crate is in the west side of the island.
Floor Tile In The Treasure Hunt
The floor tile is located in a library in the TEMPLE OF THE MOON.
Longbow In Treasure Hunt
The longbow is located in the red dragons den.
Ore – Ickle
Collect as much ore as you can because if your characters have the right skills they can make ore into gems, weapons, armor, potion bottles and god-knows-what-else!!
The Hat In The Treasure Hunt
Talk to town citizens. One of them will try to sell you the hat.
Get To Titan Castle
To get to Titan castle, first get to AvLee. Then kill all the Wyverns on the left side of the island (If you are facing the ship) and when you look down on the other side of the Wyvern hill you will see TITAN CASTLE guarded by water sprites, etc. etc. Run through them and enter TITAN CASTLE. But be prepared! TITANS are as bad as dragons!!
Get In Fairy Mound
First get to FAIRY MOUND and then go around it in a circle once and a doorway should open allowing you to enter FAIRY MOUND.
Obelisk Treasure
Visit all the obelisks and get to Evermorn Island at midnight to get the OBELISK TREASURE!!
Inns Are GREAT!
If you sleep at an inn, all damage done to you is taken away so do it as frequently as possible!(But it does not remove special conditions like insanity, paralysis, etc. But it does cure weakness!)
Harmondale Hint
In Harmondale, in one house some old man will give you a task to find out what happened to his lost brother or something. Make sure you take it as you’ll find Acromage cards next to his dead body deep in a CAVE guarded by goblins. Get the Acromage cards as you can make a huge fortune playing ACROMAGE!
Bracada Desert Hint
In Bracada Desert, be sure to search it well. Lots of GEMS and GENIE LAMPS are all over the place.
Barrow Downs Hint
If you are about to open a treasure chest in BARROW DOWNS, then be sure that all your charcters have FULL HEALTH because these chests EXPLODE! And they take away a lot of your health!Be fully prepared!
Potions
Red Potion = Cure WoundsYellow Potion = Cure WeaknessBlue Potion = Magic Potion Red + Yellow = Cure Disease (Orange)Red + Blue = Cure Poison (Purple)Yellow + Blue = Awaken (Green)
Master Potions
Use the following combinations to create Master level potions:
Green/Blue + Orange = Noxious Potion (White)Green/Blue + Green = Personality Boost (White)Green/Blue + Purple = Swift Potion (White)Green/Blue + Green/Yellow = Divine Power (White)Green/Blue + Orange/Red = Divine Restoration (White)Green/Blue + Orange/Yellow = Body Resistance (White)Green/Blue + Purple/Red = Mind Resistance (White)Green/Yellow + Orange = Cure Paralysis (White)Green/Yellow + Green = Intellect Boost (White)Green/Yellow + Purple = Noxious Potion (White)Green/Yellow + Orange/Red = Fire Resistance (White)Green/Yellow + Purple/Red = Divine Restoration (White)Green/Yellow + Purple/Blue = Water Resistance (White)Orange/Red + Orange = Speed Boost (White)Orange/Red + Green = Flaming Potion (White)Orange/Red + Purple = Shocking Potion (White)Orange/Red + Orange/Yellow = Divine Cure (White)Orange/Red + Purple/Blue = Air Resistance (White)Orange/Yellow + Orange = Accuracy Boost (White)Orange/Yellow + Green = Cure Paralysis (White)Orange/Yellow + Purple = Flaming Potion (White)Orange/Yellow + Purple/Red = Earth Resistance (White)Orange/Yellow + Purple/Blue = Divine Restoration (White)Purple/Red + Orange = Shocking Potion (White)Purple/Red + Green = Freezing Potion (White)Purple/Red + Purple = Might Boost (White)Purple/Red + Purple/Blue = Luck Boost (White)Purple/Blue + Orange = Freezing Potion (White)Purple/Blue + Green = Swift Potion (White)Purple/Blue + Purple = Endurance Boost (White)
Grand Master Potions
Use the following combinations to create Grand Master potions:
Orange/Yellow + Orange + Green = Pure Accuracy (Black)Green/Blue + Green + Purple = Pure Personality (Black)Green/Yellow + Green + Orange = Pure Intellect (Black)Orange/Red + Orange + Purple = Pure Speed (Black)Purple/Red + Purple + Orange = Pure Might (Black)Purple/Red + Purple/Blue + ??? = Pure Luck (Black)Purple/Blue + Purple + Green = Pure Endurance (Black)
Expert Potions
Use the following combinations to create Expert level potions:
Green + Blue = Recharge Item (Green/Blue)Green + Yellow = Harden Item (Green/Yellow)Green + Red = Bless (Green/Red)Green + Orange = Cure Insanity (Green/Orange)Green + Purple = Remove Curse (Green/Purple)Orange + Red = Haste (Orange/Red)Orange + Yellow = Stone Skin (Orange/Yellow)Orange + Blue = Preservation (Orange/Blue)Orange + Purple = Remove Fear (Orange/Purple)Purple + Red = Heroism (Purple/Red)Purple + Yellow = Water Breathing (Purple/Yellow)Purple + Blue = Shield (Purple/Blue)
Easy Experience
Battle a monster that is worth a large amount of experience points, such as a red or blue dragon. After killing the creatures, do not search the body for items. Then, cast Paralyze on the dead monster, to bring it back to life. It may now be killed with one successful hit to collect its experience points. Repeat this to rapidly accrue experience.
The Golem Head
When collecting parts for the GOLEM you have to build make sure you use the good head instead of the dented one because otherwise you GOLEM will attack you!
Cheats
Currently we have no cheats or codes for Might And Magic 7: For Blood And Honor yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.
Unlockables
Currently we have no unlockables for Might And Magic 7: For Blood And Honor yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.
Easter eggs
Currently we have no easter eggs for Might And Magic 7: For Blood And Honor yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.
Glitches
Currently we have no glitches for Might And Magic 7: For Blood And Honor yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.
Guides
Currently no guide available.
Currently no guide available.
Currently no guide available.
Currently no guide available.
Achievements
Currently we have no achievements or trophies for Might And Magic 7: For Blood And Honor yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.
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autolovecraft · 6 years
Text
Whether we were jointly going mad from our devastating ennui.
These pastimes were to us the most incredible and unimaginable variety of tomb-loot ever assembled by human madness and perversity. The jade amulet and sailed for Holland. I sometimes produced dissonances of exquisite morbidity and cacodemonical ghastliness; whilst in a distant corner; the grotesque trees, drooping sullenly to meet the neglected grass and cracking slabs, and such is my knowledge that I am about to blow out my brains for fear I mention with shame and timidity—that hideous extremity of human outrage, the antique ivied church pointed a jeering finger at the grave, the sickening odors, the faint, deep, sardonic bay as of some gigantic hound, and I had followed enthusiastically every aesthetic and intellectual movement which promised respite from our devastating ennui. There were nauseous musical instruments, stringed, brass, wood-wind, stronger than the damp mold, and sometimes—how I shudder to recall it! I shall seek with my revolver the oblivion which is my knowledge that I destroy it long before I thought of destroying myself! A wind, rushed by, and this we found in the unwholesome churchyard where a pale winter moon cast hideous shadows and leafless trees drooped sullenly to meet the neglected grass and cracking slabs, and frightened away an abnormally large horde of bats from nigh-black ruins of buried temples of Belial … Now, however, we were both in the forbidden Necronomicon of the city. After that we were both in the same way. Down unlit and illimitable corridors of eldritch fantasy sweeps the black, shapeless Nemesis that drives me to self-annihilation. As we hastened from the long undisturbed ground. His screams had reached the house and made shocking obeisances before the enshrined amulet of green jade amulet now reposed in a distant corner; the odors of mold, vegetation, and I had hastened to the door and threw myself face down upon the ground.
Extinguishing all lights, we were both in the Dutch language. We only realized, with the stealing of the object despite the lapse of five hundred years. A locked portfolio, bound in tanned human skin, held together with surprising firmness, and we could scarcely be sure. Statues and painting there were, all of fiendish subjects and some executed by St John and I knew that what had befallen St John and I saw on the dim-lighted moor a wide, nebulous shadow sweeping from mound to mound, I departed on the moor the faint, distant baying over the moor, I attacked the half frozen sod with a semi-canine face, and in the background.
Finally I reached the house and made shocking obeisances before the enshrined amulet of curious and exotic design, which had apparently been worn around the windows also, upper as well as lower. The horror reached a culmination on November 18, when St John must soon befall me. Only the somber philosophy of the city. Our lonely house was seemingly alive with the satanic taste of neurotic virtuosi we had always entertained a dread that our doors were seldom disturbed by what seemed to be a frequent fumbling in the vilest quarter of the lamps in the soft earth underneath the library window when the moon; the antique ivied church pointing a huge spectral finger at the livid sky; the antique church, the gently moaning night-wind … claws and teeth of some gigantic hound. The moon was shining against it, but worked only under certain conditions of mood, landscape, environment, weather, season, and the strange, half-heard directionless baying of whose objective existence we could not be sure. What mercy I might gain by returning the thing that lay within; but I dared not acknowledge.
The expression of its diverting novelty and appeal.
St John, walking home after dark from the abhorrent spot, torn and mangled by the taxidermist's art, and beheld a rotting oblong box and removed the damp sod, would almost totally destroy for us that ecstatic titillation which followed the exhumation of some creeping and appalling doom. It was the bony thing my friend and I had hastened to the calm white thing that had killed it, and I had hastened to the objects it symbolized; and were disturbed by the taxidermist's art, and was exquisitely carved in antique Oriental fashion from a mighty sepulcher. The enigmas of the cold sky and pecked frantically at the unfriendly sky, and why it had pursued me, were questions still vague; but, whatever my reason, I fear, even madness—for too much has already happened to give me these merciful doubts. There were nauseous musical instruments, stringed, brass, wood-wind, stronger than the night-wind … claws and teeth of some creeping and appalling doom.
Extinguishing all lights, we had so lately rifled, as we sailed the next day away from Holland to our home, we thought we had assembled a universe of terror and a secret room, far, underground; where huge winged daemons carven of basalt and onyx vomited from wide grinning mouths weird green and orange light, and leering sentiently at me with phosphorescent sockets and sharp ensanguined fangs yawning twistedly in mockery of my spade. The expression of its features was repellent in the museum.
There one might find the rotting, bald pates of famous noblemen, and in the extreme, savoring at once of death the line of red charnel things hand in hand woven in voluminous black hangings. The expression of its diverting novelty and appeal. The horror reached a culmination on November 18, when St John, walking home after dark from the oldest churchyards of the decadents could help us, and every night that demonic baying rolled over the wind-swept moor, I know not why I went thither unless to pray, or catalog even partly the worst of all shapes, and those around had heard in the soft earth underneath the library window when the moon; the grotesque trees, the stolen amulet in St John's pocket, we gave their details a fastidious technical care. The amulet—that hideous extremity of human outrage, the abhorred practice of grave-robbing. The horror reached a culmination on November 18, when St John and I sometimes produced dissonances of exquisite morbidity and cacodemonical ghastliness; whilst in a few rooms of an ancient manor-house on the bottom, like a maker's seal, was seized by some frightful carnivorous thing and torn to ribbons. The rabble were in terror, for, besides our fear of the neighborhood. As we hastened from the abhorrent spot, torn and mangled by the old manor-house on a bleak and unfrequented moor; so that our grisly collection might be discovered.
Seizing the green jade. Statues and painting there were, all of fiendish subjects and some executed by St John, walking home after dark from the centuried grave. The skeleton, though crushed in places by the jaws of the trophies adorning the nameless museum where we jointly dwelt, alone and servantless. This is the last demonic sentence I heard afar on the following day for London, taking with me the amulet after destroying by fire and burial the rest of the devilish rituals he had loved in life. Seizing the green jade, I merely screamed and ran away idiotically, my screams soon dissolving into peals of hysterical laughter. I departed on the moor, I saw that it held in its gory filthy claw the lost and fateful amulet of green jade amulet now reposed in a multitude of inlaid ebony cabinets reposed the most incredible and unimaginable variety of tomb-loot ever assembled by human madness and perversity. I aroused St John nor I could identify; and were disturbed by what seemed to be a frequent fumbling in the ancient house on the moor the faint baying of some unspeakable beast.
The predatory excursions on which St John and I had robbed; not clean and placid as we had so lately rifled, as the victims of some malign being whose nature we could not guess, and sometimes we burned a strangely scented candle before it.
St John and I had robbed; not clean and placid as we found potent only by a close-packed nightmare retinue of huge, sinewy, sleeping owner I knew not; but I dared not look at it. Excavation was much easier than I expected, though crushed in places by the old Arab daemonologist; lineaments, he professed entire ignorance of the thing hinted of in the morning I read of a prosaic world; where huge winged daemons carven of basalt and onyx vomited from wide grinning mouths weird green and orange light, and we gave their details a fastidious technical care. Less than a week after our return to England, strange things began to happen. Much—amazingly much—was left of the peasantry; for he whom we sought had centuries before been found in the ghoul's grave with our spades, and the crumbling slabs; the vast legions of strangely colossal bats that flew against the moon; the vast legions of strangely colossal bats that flew against the moon; the phosphorescent insects that danced like death-fires, the horrible shadows; the ghastly soul-symbol of the devilish rituals he had loved in life. I expected, though at one point I encountered a queer combination of rustling, tittering, and articulate chatter. Through these pipes came at will the odors of mold, vegetation, and those around had heard all night a faint distant baying over the graves, casting long horrible shadows; the vast legions of strangely colossal bats that flew against the moon; the odors our moods most craved; sometimes the narcotic incense of imagined Eastern shrines of the city. All he could do was to whisper, The amulet—that hideous extremity of human outrage, the sickening odors, the gently moaning night-wind, stronger than the damp mold, vegetation, and heads preserved in various stages of dissolution. My friend was dying when I saw on the following day for London, taking with me the amulet after destroying by fire and burial the rest of the devilish rituals he had loved in life. It was the dark rumor and legendry, the horrible shadows; the grotesque trees, the titanic bats, the faint baying of whose objective existence we could not be sure. By what malign fatality were we lured to that mocking, accursed spot which brought us our hideous and inevitable doom.
0 notes
autolovecraft · 6 years
Text
When I aroused St John must soon befall me.
Mostly we held to the terrible scene in these final moments—the pale watching moon, the stolen amulet in St John's dying whisper had served to connect the curse with the blackest of apprehensions, that the faint, deep, sardonic bay as of a gigantic hound.
And as I pronounced the last rational act I ever performed.
But after three nights I heard the faint baying of some gigantic hound. An inappropriate hour, a queer combination of rustling, tittering, and became as worried as I approached the ancient house on a bleak and unfrequented moor; so that our grisly collection might be discovered. They were as baffling as the victims of some unspeakable beast. In a squalid thieves' den an entire family had been hovering curiously around it. Our quest for novel scenes and piquant conditions was feverish and insatiate—St John must soon befall me. My friend was dying when I spoke to him, and I had robbed; not clean and placid as we found it. Baudelaire and Huysmans were soon exhausted of thrills, till finally there remained for us only the more direct stimuli of unnatural personal experiences and adventures.
On October 29 we found it. Once we fancied that a large, opaque body darkened the library window when the moon; the odors of mold, and such is my knowledge that I destroy it long before I thought of destroying myself! The baying was loud that evening, and this we found it. They were as baffling as the thing that had killed it, but I felt that I destroy it long before I thought of destroying myself! Immediately upon beholding this amulet we knew that what had befallen St John and myself. I shall be mangled in the background.
Around the base was an inscription in characters which neither St John is a mangled corpse; I alone know why, and how we thrilled at the grave-earth until I killed him with a charnel fever like our own. There was no one in the water. As we hastened from the long undisturbed ground.
Only the somber philosophy of the corpse-eating cult of inaccessible Leng, in Central Asia. Extinguishing all lights, we had seen it then, but as we found in this self same spot, the antique church, the sickening odors, the sickening odors, the horrible shadows; the ghastly soul-upheaving stenches of the trophies adorning the nameless museum where we jointly dwelt, alone, and how we delved in the morning I read of a gigantic hound in the ghoul's grave with our spades, and hidden pneumatic pipes ruffled into kaleidoscopic dances of death, bestiality and malevolence. I ever performed. What the hound was, and we could not be sure. Finally I reached the rotting oblong box crusted with mineral deposits from the unnamed and unnameable. Our museum was a blasphemous, unthinkable place, where with the presence of some creeping and appalling doom.
And as I strolled on Victoria Embankment for some needed air, and the night-wind, rushed by, and the crumbling slabs; the vast legions of strangely colossal bats that flew against the moon; the vast legions of strangely colossal bats that flew against the rising moon. On October 29 we found it. When I arose, trembling, I discovered that thieves had despoiled me of this sole means of salvation.
Once we fancied that a large, opaque body darkened the library window a series of footprints utterly impossible to describe. Our alarm was now divided, for upon an evil tenement had fallen a red death beyond the foulest previous crime of the pre-Raphaelites all were ours in their time, but I felt that I destroy it long before I thought of destroying myself!
I saw that it held. On each occasion investigation revealed nothing, and why it had pursued me, were questions still vague; but I felt that I am about to blow out my brains for fear I mention with shame and timidity—that damned thing—Then he collapsed, an inert mass of mangled flesh. Then we struck a substance harder than the night of September 24,19—, I saw on the moor the faint, distant baying over the graves, casting long horrible shadows; the phosphorescent insects that danced like death-fires under the yews in a distant corner; the phosphorescent insects that danced like death-fires under the yews in a multitude of inlaid ebony cabinets reposed the most exquisite form of aesthetic expression, and sometimes we burned a strangely scented candle before it.
The next day away from Holland to our home, we thought we heard a knock at my chamber door. The horror reached a culmination on November 18, when St John and I knew that we must possess it; that this treasure alone was our logical pelf from the abhorrent spot, torn and mangled by the claws and teeth of some gigantic hound. When I arose, trembling, I shut my eyes and threw it suddenly open; whereupon we felt an unaccountable rush of air, and the flesh and radiantly golden heads of new-buried children. Bizarre manifestations were now too frequent to count. Less than a week after our return to England, strange things began to ascribe the occurrences to imagination which still prolonged in our ears the faint, distant baying of some creeping and appalling doom. Around the walls of this sole means of salvation. Fancying it St John's, I departed on the bottom, like a maker's seal, was the dark rumor and legendry, the stolen amulet in St John's dying whisper had served to connect the curse with the stealing of the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred; the grotesque trees, the grave as we had so lately rifled, as the hordes of great bats which haunted the old Arab daemonologist; lineaments, he wrote, drawn from some obscure supernatural manifestation of the city.
As we heard this suggestion of baying we thought we had so lately rifled, as if seeking for some needed air, and we began to ascribe the occurrences to imagination which still prolonged in our senses, we thought we heard this suggestion of baying we thought we heard this suggestion of baying we shuddered, remembering the tales of the amulet after destroying by fire and burial the rest of the thing hinted of in the extreme, savoring at once of death the line of red charnel things hand in hand woven in voluminous black hangings. Even had its outlines been unfamiliar we would have desired it, but so old that we finally pried it open and feasted our eyes on what it held in its gory filthy claw the lost and fateful amulet of green jade. May heaven forgive the folly and morbidity which led to the terrible scene in time to hear a whir of wings and see a vague black cloudy thing silhouetted against the rising moon.
A wind, on which we collected our unmentionable treasures were always artistically memorable events. One evening as I approached the ancient grave I had once violated, and I had hastened to the theory that we were mad, dreaming, or in our senses, we had assembled a universe of terror and a faint, deep, insistent note as of some malign being whose nature we could not be sure. Much—amazingly much—was left of the earth we had heard in the corridor.
Then we struck a substance harder than the night—wind howled maniacally from over far swamps and seas; and on the dim-lighted moor a wide, nebulous shadow sweeping from mound to mound, I know not how much later, whilst we were troubled by what we read. After that we must possess it; that this treasure alone was our logical pelf from the unnamed and unnameable. And when I saw that it held in its gory filthy claw the lost and fateful amulet of green jade object, we proceeded to the earth. Excavation was much easier than I expected, though crushed in places by the claws and teeth sharpened on centuries of corpses … dripping death astride a bacchanal of bats which haunted the old Arab daemonologist; lineaments, he professed entire ignorance of the pre-Raphaelites all were ours in their time, but so old that we must possess it; that this treasure alone was our logical pelf from the abhorrent spot, the grotesque trees, drooping sullenly to meet the withered, frosty grass and the ivied church pointing a huge spectral finger at the bleached and cavern-eyed face of its features was repellent in the night of September 24,19—, I saw that it was who led the way at last to that terrible Holland churchyard?
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