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#kite cluster
quiltofstars · 2 months
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The Kite Cluster, NGC 1664 // Philippe Barraud
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xenodile · 20 days
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For the love of god stop using the Mortar Sentry and Orbital Laser on civilian evac missions, you are actively sabotaging us.
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ledyjewels · 1 year
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monstersdownthepath · 5 months
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Monster Spotlight: Redcap
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CR 6
Neutral Evil Small Fey
Bestiary 2, pg. 233
Wretched, cantankerous, and murderous, Redcaps are among the darkest and most depraved of all Fey, seeking any and every excuse to cause pain and suffering among any creature they find. Interestingly, Redcaps are actually kinder to other Fey than you'd think, often (but not always) refusing to victimize Fey that one would think would be easy prey, going as far as to hire themselves out as assassins, mercenaries, and bodyguards for gentler Fey who won't or can't raise a hand to defend themselves. Why they do this is dismissed with various shoddy excuses if the violent little men deign to explain themselves at all, so no one--not even the fairies who hire them--is quite sure about their reasoning.
Unfortunately, because they try to avoid attacking other Fey, this means Redcaps have only one real outlet for their violence: mortalkind. Redcaps are indiscriminate in their hatred for mortals and are literally fueled by a need to cause harm, as their namesake red caps must be kept awash in fresh blood or else the Fey themselves believe they will sicken and die. What's baffling is that this isn't true; their Red Cap grants them their Fast Healing 3 and a +4 bonus to damage rolls, yes, but they suffer no penalties to their health if they lose it. A Redcap bereft of its hat, though, will act like it's sickened and miserable, dragging its feet and slurring its words as though it's been struck with an incurable illness... but whether this is a method to garner sympathy in a manner similar to an unwilling vampire ("I need your blood to keep healthy!"), or a belief among their kind so strong that it triggers a placebo effect in them is another unknown factor. A DM playing one of these creatures could certainly have it bluff and mislead a party in an attempt to make them lower their guard; it just needs a little blood, you see, just enough to freshen its hat! Just let it nick you a little, just a little, and then it'll be on its way! Promise!
And then they hit you with their Heavy Weapon. Despite being Small, a Redcap is startlingly sturdy, allowing them to wield weapons sized for Medium creatures without penalty. They prefer scythes and make frighteningly good use of them, having both Cleave to hew down multiple clustered enemies or Power Attack to give themselves -1/+3 to their attack/damage. Without using PA, a Redcap can swing its scythe once per round with a +10 to their attack roll, and the damage? 2d4+10. I'm bolding that because you should recall that scythes have a critical hit modifier of x4, meaning the least damage a lucky critical hit can do is 48, enough to put the fear of death in whatever survives the initial impact.
In addition to their scythes, Redcaps also have their heavy iron boots, letting them deliver a Boot Stomp when they Full-Attack as a secondary attack that deals 1d4+6 damage. Despite being noted in their lore as making a distinct clanking noise as they move, they have a +19 to Stealth to make a surprise round a near-certainty... and those boots must weigh nothing to them, because they also have a 60ft movement speed, assuring that running from them once they've charged into your party and gotten their first hit in, there's practically no escaping them. Their Boot Stomp lets them exploit their movespeed further, giving them a free stomp attack if they take a full-round action to move, all without provoking any attacks of opportunity. It's not much damage, but it gives them the power to kite their foes and push them either towards danger or away from safety.
Not just powerful offensively, Redcaps themselves have 20 AC, above average for their CR, and their 60 HP is shielded behind the Fey-favorite of DC 10/Cold Iron, making the little bastards way tougher than their wiry frames would suggest and likely catching anyone attacking them by fatal surprise. Without a cold iron weapon, anyone without a two-handed weapon of their own likely can't damage the Redcap and will be forced to try and take it down in some other way... like attacking their CMD. Despite their penchant for using Heavy Weapons and their weighty iron boots, Redcaps are still Small. Disarm them and then pick them up! Stealing their Red Cap is a sure way to force them into a harsh bargain; they can easily create a new one, but as mentioned before, they're so deeply attached to their hats that snatching it off their head while they're stunned (or just using Steal) will likely demoralize them into leaving you alone for a short time, allowing the party to regroup and prepare for its inevitable revenge. Removing their hats also tanks their damage to 2d4+6 and 1d4+2 for their scythe and boots, respective, so players are flat out incentivized to do it.
They also have low saves (except Reflex), meaning debuffs are likely to stick. Their low Will save is especially damning since Redcaps are Irreligious, becoming terrified at the sight of any holy symbol that a Fey (and only a Fey) presents if they fail a DC 15 Will save, and forced to run away screaming for 1 minute. Even success shakes up the murderous fairy for 1 minute, lowering its saves and its damage for a whole fight! Making friends with the local fairies has its benefits! Not only are you just flat out less likely to be harassed by Redcaps, but if your fae friend is the religious type, they can make an encounter with the murderous old men significantly easier.
You can read more about them here.
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blubushie · 4 months
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2/1/24, 6:25am
I think I'd forgotten what loneliness felt like.
It doesn't hit me until now when I'm sitting here in Darwin and trying to sleep after spending the past 3-ish days in multiple different major cities, but I'm lonely.
I got maybe a half-hour of sleep, and then I woke up and went out on the balcony for a bit to have a smoke, and a beer, and I've missed the taste of VB. I've missed the smell of rainwater in the Top End, and the squawks of cockatoos in the mornings, and fresh meat pies, and Jatz, and golden gaytimes, and vegemite, and heading to the shops barefoot.
And back home? Oh.
I've missed the sounds of dingos, and the chitter of flying foxes, and feeling thunder crawl through my skin on every roll. I've missed the whistling kites and the smell of wattle--it's summertime down south, and the wet season here up north, and some of the wattle is blooming. I've missed the blue kookas and the sweetness of cluster figs and the trumpeting of brolgas and the crunch of waterlily stems, and the saltiness of croc meat, and playing two-up with my brother but hiding it from my boy because gambling is a bad influence.
Call me insane, but dare I say I've even missed the flies and mozzies, though there isn't many right now because of the wet.
But I also miss Misty. I miss Misty desperately. I woke up and panicked for a second and called out to her so she'd come to me, and then I remembered where I am, and that she isn't with me. And, iunno, but that made me really sad for a few minutes.
The beer's good though, and I get to watch the sunrise. But I can see clouds on the horizon, and lightning, so it looks like a storm will be rolling in by the time I have to be up and about. Hopefully it rolls in fast and gets gone faster and doesn't ground my flight.
Can't wait to be home.
But my brother rang my sat this morning! And he's bringing my boy with him to pick me up at the airport. :]
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retphienix · 23 days
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I love seeing the Eagle Strafing order and going "You know what, I'm too mean to this dog shit strategem, I'm going to SERIOUSLY use it, who even cares that it's just 10x worse than cluster bomb AND has 1 less use, surely it can do SOMETHING"
then running it serious as hell, throwing it into every single group of like 30 bots I gather, literally kiting enemies into piles for it, and come out of a 30 minute mission with 22 kills.
Fuck this dogshit lol
I just ran a solo helldive eradicate bug mission and threw it at my feet until it said "Good job", what a horrible strategem, literally worse than precision strike lmao
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outofangband · 2 years
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Updated Flora, Fauna, and Environment of Region
Flora, Fauna, and Environment of Region
I did Flora, fauna and environment of Neldoreth here.
Flora, fauna, geography and environment of Arda
This entry is part of a series on the biodiversity and environment of Doriath.
I wanted to rewrite this to take into consideration the probable alkaline quality of the earth around Menengroth as well as the ecology of Holly forests
Region was the larger forest of Doriath, South of the river Esgalduin and North of Aros. The capital was Menengroth which was located in the northern parts of the forest, accessed by a bridge over Esgalduin and made up of a series of caverns and caves.
It is a warm temperate forest with moderate to heavy rainfall depending on the season and short winters. The biome is likely temperate broadleaf and mixed forests with the ecoregion being inspired by Atlantic,  Balkan or Cantabrian mixed forests.
Unlike Neldoreth, few species are directly named aside from holly (actually a large family rather than a single species) and nightingale.
In the Lay of Leithian, we have these lines
Lo! there amid immortal flowers the nightingales in shining bowers sang o'er the head of Melian, while water for ever dripped and ran from fountains in the rocky floor. There Thingol sat. His crown he wore of green and silver, and round his chair a host in gleaming armour fair…
The caves themselves are possibly limestone with dolomite and hewn marble (marble basins are described) and so the soil around the entrances is alkaline
Holly does not tolerate high levels of alkaline in the soil so although it is one of the more prominent trees of Region it likely does not grow near Menengroth. Holly also grows typically in clusters in oak and beech forests which is fitting as Doriath has both and Thingol was known as the king of beech, oak and elm
Near the entrances, wild chives, columbine, ox eye daisy along with clusters of evergreen ash trees and blackthorn. Bird’s nest and early purple orchids can also be found closer to the caves as well
Note: I will make a separate post on the royal gardens of Menengroth if there is interest
The forest was described as being made up of holly trees, likely European and mountain holly along with a variety of holly or ilex family shrubs (for example, Box leafed holly is pruned and cultivated in and around Menengroth itself, aided by the magic of Melian.) Other trees likely grew alongside them including cedar trees, wild cherry, white oaks, pointed leaf maple, and sweet or emperor oak.
Black elder, shoreline figwort, water horsetail, heath violet and meadow soft grass grow on the borders of the forest and by the rivers along with groves of gray willow.
Also of note are wolf lichen, bearded lichen, panther cap mushroom, false death cap and death cap, devil’s bolete, wood blewit, fairy inkcap, yellowleg bonnet, bracken club fungus,  eagle ferns, glade ferns, and fiddlehead fern which grow on the forest floor, upon trees themselves and on fallen trees . (mushrooms and lichens are not plants unlike ferns which are, I’ve grouped them together because of where they are in the forest)
Like in Neldoreth, a variety of species associated with ancient woodland grow especially in the spring including bluebells, crocuses, snowdrops, and dog’s bane 
As always, insects are nearly impossible to do even an overview of because of the huge variety of species but here is a brief list and if anyone wants me to ever do more in depth posts on them, I’m happy to! June beetles, dead leaf mantises, blue crickets, stick insects, leaf beetles, speckled wood butterfly, small copper butterfly, holly blue butterfly, gatekeeper butterfly, and large blues in clearings and by the river.
Little bitterns, black bitterns, wood ducks, species of swallow and house martin, gray heron, Weavers, yellow, white and citrine wagtails, nuthatches, nightingale, robin, thrush, green finch, wood warbler, red kites, kestrels, and more. Like with insects it’s hard to get a good list so this is only a selection but I’d be happy to do a longer list if anyone wants! I do personally headcanon that there are prehistoric creatures (by our world’s timeline) in the deeper woods of Doriath though I think many are North and West of Region in Neldoreth and Nivrim. In the gardens cultivated by Melian near Menengroth however you can find creatures like the hummingbird ancestor Eurotrochilus.
Wood frogs can be found in the undergrowth especially near logs and fallen trees. Golden newts are less common outside their breeding season where they are in abundance in small verbal pools.
The mammals of Region have a lot of overlap with those of Neldoreth. Musk deer, barking deer, masked shrew, sable, pale wild cats, black, silver and light red foxes, wood mice, river otters, elk, and stranger creatures too.
I kept to real creatures here but I’d be happy to talk about my ideas for others.
I will do a separate post for the rivers in more detail and as always, please feel free to send questions or requests!
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ambiguouspuzuma · 1 year
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The Kite Artist
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There are some coastal towns which are famed amongst tourists for their postcard-perfect views, beloved by families for their sandy beaches and amusement arcades, or renowned by surfers for their fearsome five-foot waves, but the bay around St Triston has always been known for its artists.
Every summer, they flock like gulls to the apartments that cluster in a horseshoe looking out onto the sea, and spend their days soaking in the golden light that rises over the harbour. They travel here from miles away to make their own attempt at capturing that perfect dawn, the way the sunbeams dance across the cresting of each wave, as many famous painters have set out to in the past. In doing so, however, they often find it captures them instead.
That was why they always came back. There were only so many way to capture the idyllic blue-green of a rising swell, the glittering silver of the crashing surf, but each artist felt the need to paint the same landscape again, and again, and again. They tried different materials, watercolour or acrylic, even glass-blowing or sculpture, and styles from a delicate pointillist foam to a fauvist's vivid strokes, but none sufficed to satisfy that appetite.
Their recreations would never be enough. They were entranced by the real thing - enthralled - ensnared, like a herring at the end of the fisherman's line. Some of them might migrate north in the winter months, huddled safely by a fire somewhere inland, and even imagine themselves free. But when summer sang its siren song, they found themselves reeled back down to their second home, to St Triston, summoned to paint its portrait once again.
The town's narrow streets were filled with minor galleries, nestled in the corners between fudge shops and tea parlours, where a visitor might sample any number of differing depictions of the view a few short steps away, able to judge for themselves which attempt best did it justice and then baulk at the price of taking that memento home. It was a common way to pass the time, between light café lunches and long strolls out to the pier.
But Pia preferred to walk along the promenade. The long, sheltered beach that accompanied the esplanade was home to a different breed of artists, those who made their works out of the beach itself. Sand-sculptors, who spent their days buildings castles beyond her own childhood dreams, vast palaces complete with turrets and a curtain wall, and an entire portfolio of other forms besides.
She saw a golden retriever formed from sand alone, its fur lovingly beach-combed into life. A sea turtle mounded into shape, its carapace a mosaic of other shells. An octopus whose tentacles were made to rise and disappear beneath the surface of the beach. Many of them were familiar. Pia's family visited St Triston every summer, and some of the artists were present year-on-year, endlessly creating their temporary art: Sisyphus with a hammer and chisel, or in this case a bucket and spade.
Her favourite used to be the kite-boy. The seafront always bore a healthy breeze, and one artist was out there early every day, flying a kite upon the sands. She was an older woman, wrapped up in thermals and gloves, but there was no faulting her dedication: she'd never missed a day, as far as Pia could remember, and she'd been to watch her work on every morning they were staying there. At least she had, up until the day she'd had to stop.
It always started with the kite. A perfect diamond tiled with stones, a bladder wrack string with oarweed ribbons. The boy came next, painted in pebbles of different hues so that the sun appeared to shine upon his cold grey cheeks, his smile an arc of seashell teeth, a pair of softened seaglass eyes. The exact design varied day-by-day, but he was always perfect, and it had always given Pia a smile to see such a loving depiction of childhood innocence amongst the masterpieces on the beach.
Every morning, she went out to watch the boy fly his kite. Sometimes she went back later, as the tide came in, as fledgling waves were dashed across his pebble-dashed boots, a duvet drawn to tuck him gradually beneath the waves. Or sometimes he was painted upside-down, the kite drawn like an anchor that pulled towards the ocean - on those days, the churning tide consumed him head-first, leaving only two vast and trunkless legs of stone.
Other details changed from one dawn to the next: when emerald seaglass had been scarce, the child's eyes were the pearlescent white of upturned scallop shells, or glinted with the sheen of coins tossed down by passers-by, the artist's payment to the boatman who would take the kite-boy home. Pia had always sought out those changes with keen eyes of her own, looking forward to each day's fresh interpretation whilst the sand sculptures remained identical throughout the week. That was why he had always been her favourite.
But that had been until last summer, when she'd overheard a couple pass behind her on the esplanade, and learnt the awful truth behind this particular muse.
"Oh no, that one's a bit morbid, don't you think?"
"What do you mean?"
Pia had been watching the artist work, but she spun around at that exchange, suddenly hooked by these strangers' conversation. It was all that she could do not to ask Why? herself - her instinct to defend the kite-boy and his honour. She'd spent so much time with him, in his various guises, that she felt a certain attachment to the piece, even as it was washed away and rebuilt every day.
"There was a boy who drowned, not far from here, wasn't there?" They'd been an elderly couple; perhaps locals, perhaps artists, perhaps there for a holiday themselves. "He was flying a kite, and it pulled him into the sea?"
"Oh, gosh. Now that you mention it, yes, I did hear something about that. That's awful. You think that the artist knew?"
"It would be a strange coincidence, wouldn't it? I'm sure they mean it in the right way, but it seems a strange way to honour his memory. Recreating the way that he died."
Pia looked out towards the sea, considering the sculpture not in the golden glow of the famous St Triston dawn, but the new light of these revelations. She hadn't heard about the drowned boy. Perhaps it had been before her family had started visiting; perhaps she'd been too young to be told, and they'd just kept her closer to hand, and hugged her extra tight before bed for a few weeks afterwards.
She searched the waves for his final resting place, if it had been here, but it would be impossible to tell. There could never be a marker there, in the ever-changing patterns of the surf. If a tribute was meant, the beach was the only setting - and why not a sculpture out of pebbles and shells? A hundred tiny headstones, arrayed in a graveyard all his own. The remains of lives washed out of the sea, in exchange for one it had claimed for itself.
Pia tried her best to justify it, but she couldn't help but share the feeling it was wrong, permanently tainted by this knowledge. Would flowers have been more appropriate? She saw them at the scenes of other tragedies, on corners following a recent car crash, but even the most beautiful bouquet would die and decompose with their intended. Was that better than capturing the boy like this: alive, and lost in this moment of innocent joy? A sculpture that was made anew each day, so that his memory would never be forgotten?
She didn't know why, but it felt like it was. This felt... well, morbid, as the couple said. Disrespectful. The intention sounded good on paper, but perhaps some memories were meant to fade with time - the dead deserved to rest, and their families with them. Most headstones wished their tenants peace, not constant re-enactment of their lives, and let alone their deaths; flowers left upon a grave would wilt and shed their petals with their mourner's tears, but perhaps they were a gentler tribute for their transience.
"I wonder if the family know," one of the strangers said. Pia found herself walking slowly after them, not wanting to lose the end of their conversation. Leaving the kite-boy behind. "What must they think?"
"I read at the time that his father had a drinking problem, which was why the boy was left to entertain himself. The papers blamed him, and I dare say that he probably blamed himself. I don't know that he'd be in much a state to complain."
"And the mother?"
"Who knows."
His mother wishes that she'd been there, the kite artist thought, listening as their conversation faded away into the crowd, just as a sculpture gradually cedes into the sea. She wishes that she could have saved him. But even if he had to die, she wishes she'd had the chance to hold his hand, to be there for him as he went, to say her last goodbyes. To tell him he was loved, and that there wouldn't be a day she wouldn't wake with his reflection in her heart.
Now, Pia spent her time further down the front, throwing her arcade change to other artists - those that didn't make her feel uncomfortable, or raise those questions in her mind. The kite artist noted her absence, having become familiar with her visits every year, but she observed it in the same silence with which she watched the dawn rise over the sea. She didn't mind being left to work alone. This wasn't something that she did to be observed.
Even in the winter months, when St Triston was all-but-empty and a harsh wind whistled through the sands, she was glad to have been left to make her morbid art in peace. To stroke her kite-boy's cold grey cheeks, assembled lovingly in place, to hold his outstretched hand as the first waves came lapping at his shoes. They would never be apart for long. She would never not be there, as she'd vowed when the news first tore her world in two. She would never forget about him again.
A hundred headstones to his grave, and a hundred more tomorrow.
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dansnaturepictures · 8 months
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27/08/23-Old Winchester Hill
Photos taken in this set: 1. A splendid Silver-spotted Skipper, a lavish and eyecatching butterfly which it was an honour to see again this year today, I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've seen them more than once in a year which makes me feel lucky. It was a delight to see a decent few buzzing around the rich meadows here, what a year I've had for skippers. 2. Chalkhill Blue, another of my favourite butterflies that this big butterfly trip in our year coming here is always so good for which I relished getting chances to see again this year male and female. They're such prepossessing butterflies. 3, 4, 6, 7 and 8. Some stunning panoramic and extensive South Downs views, this is such a beautiful place and I am always so taken with the bright emerald landscape when we come in summer. It was so powerful to be out with great bits of sun. 5. Carline thistle, a fascinating flower to see here that I rarely or ever have before. 9. A battered Adonis Blue, it was a pleasure to get more chances to see this sensational butterfly again this year in their summer brood with a fair few flashing around the grass. A butterfly I adore which I've had a great year for. 10. A Common Carpet moth which was pretty to see, a nice one which I first ever saw at Magdalen Hill this May.
Coming here often tends to be one of the last big butterfly focused days for us of the year where we're specifically looking for butterflies primarily and we see a great variety of species, and it didn't disappoint with Meadow Browns, Gatekeeper, more lovely Small Heaths, Small Copper, excellent Small White views and of course Red Admiral seen. A late mating pair of Six-spot Burnets, Silver Y, a Yellow Shell and veneer were other nice moths seen. Grasshoppers/crickets including a fine Long-winged Conehead my first ever seen, hornet, hoverfly and I believe a Brown Hawker dragonfly were other good insects seen on a great time for them. There were some top birds seen on the walk too with a raptor quadruple of Buzzard, Red Kite, Sparrowhawk and especially epic views of a couple of Kestrels on a great day for birds of prey flying. A gorgeous Redstart was a surprise to see with Herring Gull, Woodpigeon, a group of Swallows and Robin and Chiffchaff heard also standing out. It was something of a flower fest with clustered bellflower an excellent and prominent one a first for me, only my second ever gentian I believe autumn gentian after here last year and my first devil's-bit scabious of the year a favourite of mine that I've never seen outside the New Forest before so this was different. Other highlights were marjoram, wild basil, field or small scabious, St. John's-wort, eyebright, a great clump of viper's-bugloss, agrimony, harebell, knapweed, rosebay willowherb, yellow wort and round-headed rampion. Elderberries and hawthorn were nice to see.
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sparatus · 2 years
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like if you look at the full map with locations from all 3 games it's not an exaggeration, the alliance literally has colonies one cluster over from the kite's nest, it's insane the hegemony definitely does not have the right to do war crimes about it (and the alliance to do war crimes back) but like no they are kinda justified in not being okay with how close the alliance, who waste no time establishing themselves as aggressive, gets to their actual homeworld
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floridensis · 2 years
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the invasive apple snails seem to be moving into the canal behind my house in greater numbers. this is the third egg cluster ive seen this month where i normally dont see..... any, ever, mostly. but i know the snails have been here for a bit, i saw a live one moving around on the bottom one day when the water was clear and found an empty shell on the bank once, probably limpkin food. but i think theyre newish and growing here. theres a huge egg cluster with hundreds of eggs on one of the knees of my cypress. i could destroy it easily, but i dont know if i want to. the native apple snails that should be here cant live in artificial waterways like the canal and these snails basically are hardy enough to replace that niche and are directly responsible for a boost in endangered snail kite populations. theyre invasive, but they have their benefits so i dont know if i should try to interfere or just let it happen
also i suspect they spread by laying eggs on coconuts
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saffronsplace · 29 days
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Ah Sun-flower! weary of time, Who countest the steps of the Sun: Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the travellers journey is done. Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: Arise from their graves and aspire, Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
pose @ ana poses - ghent
Dirt by sacrilege @ Wizarding Faire - artist's marks trowel @ enamour - farm fresh tool
hair @ bonbon - leifang hair (gift) outfit by neve @ faMESHed - puddle romper leggings @ veechi - lace trim leggings
Frankie's Bucket Custom Made by Hopscotch
JIAN Sunflowers :: Cluster Botanical - Sunflower
:CP: Garden Gate Corner Bench AF Herb Garden - Tool Crate AF Herb Garden - Seed Crate {vespertine} - gardening clutter. - toolbag. Sari-Sari - Mrs. Bumpkin's Garden - Watering Can {vespertine} - gardening clutter. - garden acessories. +Half-Deer+ Beach Towel Clutter ~HopScotch~ Fly a Kite - Lion Mesh
other stuff
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zblmarguerite · 1 month
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Benjamin Franklin
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Traversing through the cosmic expanse of Benjamin Franklin's life, as narrated by Walter Isaacson, one cannot help but marvel at the whimsical yet profoundly impactful journey of this 18th-century polymath. Here's a galactic tour of Franklin's universe, where science, politics, and letters intersect in a delightful nebula of genius.
A Young Star Emerges: In the cosmic dawn of his life, young Franklin demonstrated a penchant for rebellion and ingenuity, quite literally making waves by inventing swimming paddles. It's the kind of innovation that suggests, had he been born several centuries later, Franklin might have been tinkering with rocket propulsion instead of aquatic locomotion.
The Escape Velocity of Apprenticeship: Not content to orbit around the family's candle-making business or the ecclesiastical sphere his parents envisioned, Franklin jettisoned himself from these predetermined trajectories. With a propulsion fueled by curiosity and a bit of cheekiness (like suggesting a one-time, bulk grace over a barrel of salted meat), he embarked on a trajectory that would alter the course of his life and, indeed, human history.
The London Episode: A brief sojourn to London, initially under the guise of securing printing equipment, turned into an intellectual expansion phase. Here, Franklin absorbed the currents of Enlightenment thought, debated with the likes of Samuel Keimer, and refined his persuasive prowess, skills that would later prove instrumental in his political voyages.
A Literary Comet: Despite his ventures into various business orbits, Franklin's heart remained tethered to the written word. Under the pseudonym Mrs. Silence Dogood, he displayed an early knack for satire and social commentary, suggesting that if Twitter had existed in the 18th century, Franklin would undoubtedly have been a master of the art.
The Junto Cluster: Franklin's formation of the Junto, a group of like-minded individuals dedicated to mutual improvement and civic engagement, acted as a gravitational pull for many of his subsequent ventures, including the establishment of a public library and the University of Pennsylvania. It was a sort of intellectual think tank, or as we might call it today, a hackathon for colonial improvement.
Electric Interstellar Overdrive: Franklin's experiments with electricity, culminating in the kite experiment, not only debunked the mystical aura around lightning but also introduced the lightning rod, safeguarding countless lives. His scientific endeavors earned him the title of a "new Prometheus," a nod to his ability to harness the powers of nature for humanity's benefit.
The Diplomatic Voyager: Franklin's diplomatic missions, especially his role in securing French support during the American Revolution, showcased his adeptness in navigating the turbulent political ether. His ability to charm and negotiate across the Atlantic underscored the indispensable role soft power plays in the geopolitical arena.
The Constitutional Architect: In the twilight of his career, Franklin's influence permeated the drafting of the U.S. Constitution. Advocating for a balance of power that would keep the young nation from imploding into a black hole of tyranny or chaos, he helped forge a document that remains a cornerstone of American democracy.
The Abolitionist's Light: Even as his life's journey neared its event horizon, Franklin turned his attention to the blight of slavery, advocating for its abolition. His actions remind us that the quest for liberty and justice is an endless pursuit, requiring the vigilance and courage of every generation.
A Legacy as Vast as the Cosmos: Franklin's death marked the end of an era, but his legacy endures, as vibrant as the Northern Lights, a testament to the power of curiosity, intellect, and empathy to transcend the bounds of time and space.
Thus, through the lens of Walter Isaacson, Benjamin Franklin's life reads not just as a biography but as a guidebook for navigating the vast, often intimidating expanse of human potential, urging us to explore, to question, and to innovate, for it's in these pursuits that we touch the stars.
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longlistshort · 1 month
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Pictured is Jacob Hashimoto’s This Particle of Dust, on view at Tampa Museum of Art through 2025. At first glance it may seem monochromatic, but on closer inspection the blue color and star patterns begin to emerge on the darker pieces. It also changes depending on the viewer’s vantage point and the changing natural light.
From the museum about the work-
The artist takes inspiration from cloud formations and the cosmos, with each navy blue kite featuring star-like markings. Depending on the time of day and the natural light filtering through the atrium skylights, the kites will shift in color intensity. This Particle of Dust explores the visual poetics of light and dark, color and form, as well as space and architecture.
Created from over 2,500 handmade kites, This Particle of Dust is a site-specific installation and unique to the Tampa Museum of Art’s architecture. The installation represents Jacob Hashimoto’s exploration of abstract landscape and his interest in blurring the boundaries between painting and sculpture. This Particle of Dust evokes the experience of observing the night sky through various cloud clusters. Thousands of transparent and opaque white discs hang suspended from a bespoke armature. Navy blue kites, imprinted with white and cerulean blue star patterns, hang amidst the cloud shapes and catch the light as the sun rises over the Museum and dips into the horizon over the Hillsborough River. Depending on one’s vantage point, either from the lobby, stairwell, or galleries, the experience of This Particle of Dust shifts—from below the cloudscape appears to drift into the sky while at eye-level the viewer looks directly into the stars.
Hashimoto began making kite sculptures twenty-years ago while an art student in Chicago. Inspired by traditional Chinese kite making in the city of Weifang, where the artform of sculptural dragon kites originated, Hashimoto has made hundreds of thousands of kites from Japanese paper and resin. He appreciates kites as a universal object of joy that is recognized across the globe. Transformed into monumental artworks, Hashimoto’s kites convey happiness, wonder, and serenity.
Below is Tampa Museum of Art’s video of the artist discussing this installation.
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Hashimoto is also showing several wall-mounted sculptural works for his solo exhibition, Fables, at Rhona Hoffman Gallery in Chicago. It will be on view until 4/20/24.
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wjdexclusives · 5 years
Text
0.30CTW Natural Diamond 10K Yellow Gold Kite Square Stud Earrings 12mm
https://www.wjdexclusives.com/p/earrings/10k-yellow-gold-kite-square-diamond-stud-earrings-0-30ct/
0.30CTW Natural Diamond 10K Yellow Gold Kite Square Stud Earrings 12mm
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This unisex sophisticated 10K Yellow Gold 0.30 ct.tw Round White Diamond Kite Square Shaped Cluster Stud Earrings in a prong pave setting with Screw Back.
Product Specifics All specifications are approximate and may vary for the same model.
Shape
Kite
Metal
Yellow Gold
Metal Purity
10K
Finish
High Polished
Width (mm)
12
Height (mm)
12
Weight (gm)
2
Earring Type
Stud
Fastening
Screw Back (pierced)
Main Stone
Diamond
Total Carat Weight (TCW)
0.3
Diamond Color
J-K
Main Stone Creation
Natural
Main Stone Shape
Round
Main Stone Treatment
Not Enhanced
Clarity
SI1-SI2
Cut Grade
Ideal
Setting Type
Pavé
Crafted in
Italy
Style ID: 1324 MCR156115
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the-firebird69 · 2 months
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Just met her in Hollywood #killasebi #sebijaeger #breakdance #bboy #yout...
He sees his a****** getting shot over and over but he is trying to fool our son into thinking that he's running stuff and it is a difficult job when he's with our son is doing because he's relentless even though he looks like a fool and a dead man cuz he dies a lot on TV and gets killed quite a bit he just keeps doing it thinking it'll make him win and a son and daughter keeps saying it all you're doing is saying stuff and failing. That little s*** keeps on doing it on every single point and will not back off him and it's not really worth it all and her son and daughter are taking advantage of him and the guy can't figure that out either at all so it's a nightmare here for him and her and us
Thor Freya
What they're saying here with this dancing and Olympus should be encouraging the idiot to say it to them is that we are merely dancing now and it is stylish and it is current and it is our stuff and you can't see what we're doing but then he says I'm going to get the girl that doesn't look it and it's because of foreigners are fighting Max over the Giants and that's his game and he's saying it to me to try and say that's what it is and I'm going to fool you into it then he's saying I don't have to and he's saying to Olympus but Olympus is not being addressed correctly he's spewing at me all day was f****** loser next door is Joe Watts and he can't control his bowels not to mention these Giants and they're going to be taken away from him just like all the stashes and caches are and I have to tell him they're a bigger Giants and that he is a massive loser for Dave if anybody a massive loser but people are not going to believe it because he's doing this all the time he's saying that the dances on and it's working he's higher than a kite walking around in public as some sort of 1930s gangster and getting killed and just gets up and does it again he's higher than a kite and this is what it's on and he's got other things too stolen ships from George on New Zealand they're making him higher than a kite and he says he knows about big giants and he does not and that's a lie we just explained what he's doing here and he's a sits forcing my people to have me say something else when I know it's going on and I don't tell him how it comes out
But yeah he is putting it in everybody's face not just Olympus but he just sits there telling me it's annoying as hell that piece of s*** needs to have his head cut off every day until he doesn't come back and probably it's all the passcode key numbers and all that other stuff to these giant clusters
Zues Hera good
Olympus
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