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arminreindl · 11 months

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Triassic Double Feature

Just weeks ago I remissed the lack of new croc taxa, seems I spoke to soon because they are being pumped out like crazy right now. For simplicity, I will cover two of the recent sorta-crocs together as neither are super extensive and they match in overall time.

These two new genera are the aetosaur Kryphioparma and the phytosaur Jupijkam. Pictured below the fossils of both with reconstructions of close relatives (art by Brian Engh and Gabriel Ugueto).

I'll start with Kryphioparma, which I wager is the less interesting of the two. Kryphioparma was an aetosaur, which are effectively early pseudosuchians that evolved a body type very similar to what nodosaurs did later. Heavily armored, sometimes with prominent spikes and herbivorous.

Kryphioparma is only known from four isolated and incomplete osteoderms, and though these are actually diagnostic and highly distinct, it does mean there's not super much to say. Hell, the scientific name literally means "mysterious shield" in reference to how little we know.

Regardless, scientists did determine two things. 1) It's a typothoracine aetosaur, narrowing down its placement to one of the two main branches. This means its closer related to Typothorax (with its armored cloaca) than to Desmatosuchus (with its shoulder spikes). 2) The second thing we know is that it wasn't alone. No, the localities that yielded its bones (Placerias Quarry and Thunderstorm Ridge) actually preserve a highly diverse aetosaur fauna, including Calypsosuchus, Tecovasuchus and two species of Desmatosuchus. All images by Jeff Martz.

Now the arguably more exciting find is that of Jupijkam, a type of phytosaur, which are archosaurs superficially resembling today's crocodiles. Now when I grew up, phytosaurs used to be considered to be entirely unrelated to crocs, being a type of archosaur believed to have diverged prior to the bird-croc split. However, it would appear that recent studies suggest that they could actually be true croc-line archosaurs, potentially being the earliest diverging group of Pseudosuchian.

Jupijkam is from the Rhaetian-Norian Blomidon Formation of Novia Scotia, Canada. This not only makes it one of the youngest, but also one of the northern-most known phytosaurs to date. It's scientific name, Jupijkam, is actually derived from the name given by the local Mi’kmaq people to their version of the horned serpent.

How Jupijkam is related to other phytosaurs is a bit wonky. Now generally, its recovered as a mystriosuchine, which isn't exactly a surprise given that most phytosaurs fall into this category. It's placement however shifts ever so slightly depending on the precise methods and characters used. 2/4 times it was found to be most closely related to Rutiodon (the phytosaur shown at the very start), once alongside the Indian Volcanosuchus and once to its exclusion. One tree simply results in a big polytomy which isn't really helpful, and one time it was found as a much more derived form related to Mystriosuchus. Whatever the case, additional finds both of other phytosaurs and Jupijkam specifically might clarify this in the future. Currently however, it seems that this form is not related to all the other American species of its time, suggesting it held out till the late Triassic independently. Which is pretty neat. Below you can see a comparisson between Jupijkam and some other slender-snouted phytosaurs, courtesy of Brownstein 2023. A is Jupijkam, B is Rutiodon and C is Machaeroprosopus

Really that wraps things up already, two new genera, both Triassic, both (potentially) early Pseudosuchians. A little bit out of my usual focus but very interesting none the less. Definitely gotta make another post soon since they just dropped yet another new one (a metriorhynchid), but I gotta read that paper first. Speaking of which A new aetosaur (Archosauria: Pseudosuchia) from the upper Blue Mesa Member (Adamanian: Early–Mid Norian) of the Late Triassic Chinle Formation, northern Arizona, USA, and a review of the paratypothoracin Tecovasuchus across the southwestern USA (escholarship.org) A late-surviving phytosaur from the northern Atlantic rift reveals climate constraints on Triassic reptile biogeography | BMC Ecology and Evolution | Full Text (biomedcentral.com) plus the respective Wikipedia pages Kryphioparma - Wikipedia Jupijkam - Wikipedia

#pseudosuchia #phytosaur #aetosaur #croc #palaeoblr #paleontology #prehistory #triassic #chinle formation #Kryphioparma #Jupijkam #long post #science #reptiles

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stumbleimg · 11 months

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Upper Mesa Falls, ID, USA [OC] [2633x3551]

#inline reddit: EarthPorn #Photography #Art #EarthPorn #Reddit #Imgur

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artflameball · 1 year

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What if I made a Benrey timeline thing and was sobbing the whole time

[ID: Five colored drawings of Benrey over the years. Each drawing is next to a bunch of bullet points listing off headcanons for that period of time.

This design of Benrey has pale skin, upside-down hearts on his cheeks, long black nails, pointy elf ears, a small scar on his upper lip, and long, fluffy black-blue hair with a heart ahoge. His eyes change color based on his stress level - they're blue if he's okay or happy, but turn yellow if he's stressed or not feeling good.

The first drawing is Benrey when he's a test subject for Black Mesa. He looks like he's somewhere around three to five years old. He's wearing an oversized hospital gown - the sleeves are too big and don't show his hands. He isn't wearing any shoes. You can see a few of his scars, which look fresh. His pointy ears are drooped. The shadow under his eyes is completely black. He's glancing around nervously, pupils slitted, eyes yellow. He looks scared.

The bullet points beside him read:

Pictured: actual size

Found on Xen when he was like two or three in human years and brought to Black Mesa

Was experimented on to figure out his healing abilities, but they couldn't be replicated in humans

Experiments continued for Definitely Scientifically Justified Reasons Not At All Just The Scientists Torturing Him To Get All Their Anger Out

"I made breakthroughs in science!" "You fucked up a perfectly good child is what you did. Look at him, he's got trauma."

Got the mindset that he's inherently evil hammered into his brain

Left ONCE when he was five and met seven year old Gordon, but was captured again pretty quickly

Managed to escape with the help of Tommy when he was about 21-22

This period of his life lasts about 20 years

The second drawing is Benrey when he's a security guard, somewhere in his early 20s. He's wearing the security guard outfit - helmet, vest, blue button-up shirt, tie, boots, gun holster - and his hair is floofing out of the helmet. He's wearing fingerless gloves as well. He's leaning backwards a bit, hands balled into fists, arms by his side, a bit tense, eyes blue but tinged with yellow at the edges.

The bullet points beside him read:

wadda hell... gay lil security guard

Benrey came back to Black Mesa a few months after escaping, working as a security guard because he liked them and they were nice to him (they weren't as bad as the scientists)

Honestly I don't have a lot to say here about specifically him being a guard

It was after getting out of experiments that he discovered and absolutely fell in love with video games. He has them all. He has played every video game in the ever.

He loves just standing around being strange and offputting

He has pierced ears! You cannot see them but

Left Black Mesa when he was 25 due to The Incident (the rescas lol)

This period of his life lasts about 3-4 years

The third drawing is Benrey post-Xen. He's a complete wreck. He's still in the security guard outfit, minus the vest, tie, and helmet, but it's torn up and stained with his purple blood. The sketch layer (which is half transparent) is on top of the color layer, conveying a sense of messiness. His hair is a mess, he's lost a lot of weight, his eyes are yellow, pupils dilated from numbness, the shadow under his eyes completely black. He looks foggy, distant, tired, just really fucked up.

The bullet points beside him read:

...You sacrifice yourself to save your best friends because you think you're an inherently evil monster and just be mentally fine afterwards.

So yeah, after Xen Benrey's... really not doing good. Drowning in guilt over everything, having all his worst thoughts about himself basically confirmed, and just mentally fucked in every way, Benrey just spirals really bad after respawning.

Where exactly he is after respawning varies depending on the fic. However he definitely falls into a really bad depression spiral after he gets out of Black Mesa and kinda isolates himself.

He is still wearing the guard uniform minus the vest and there is symbolism

This period of his life lasts for a number of months before the Science Team (probably Gordon) finds him. unless he respawns closer to the team in which case it lasts like a month or two at most

The fourth drawing is Benrey some time later. His hair is less messy, he's gained some weight, the shadow under his eyes is somewhat lighter, and his eyes are blue now. He's wearing brown pants, a black hoodie, a dark blue button-up, and a blue thigh strap. He looks like significantly less of a wreck than before.

The bullet points beside him read:

Get dragged out of your depression IDIOT

So the Science Team find him and start making him get better by force lol

He wears button ups under hoodies for a while due to nostalgia from Black Mesa

He STARTS unlearning the mindset of "I'm inherently evil," and starts learning to Not see people as inherently good because he likes them, but. He isn't there yet and won't be for a long long while. It's a slow process

He ALSO starts learning that Black Mesa torturing him was Bad Actually and it traumatized him a bit <\3

Xen drained a LOT of his energy and powers. He's probably never gonna be at 100% in terms of powers ever again, but that's ok

The fifth and last drawing is Benrey, a year or so post-Rescas. He's doing a lot better, and you can tell. He's wearing a blue chullo with an orange puffball on top and pink strings. His hair's poking out of the chullo. He has a dark blue hoodie with a rainbow PlayStation logo, pale blueish sweatpants, a pink thigh strap, and extremely colorful, messy, bright socks. He's gained a lot more weight, his eyes are blue and pupils dilated, the shadow under his eyes significantly lessened. He looks relaxed, and there's a smile on his face, his nostrils slightly flared (which they do that when he smiles). He looks genuinely happy.

The bullet points beside him read:

Live footage of me sobbing while drawing this because he looks so content and happy

This is about a year and a half or so after the Rescas? Maybe two years?

Actually in therapy (and maybe he starts taking antidepressants? idk)

He's doing a LOT better here than he was at any point before. Like even when he was a guard, if the scientists found out it was him they'd put him back into tests so there was that stress, plus he hadn't unlearned his toxic mindsets yet

His mental state still isn't perfect, he's still not There, the bad days are still bad, but holy shit he's doing so much better

probably dating gordon around here because fuck you lol

He always wear the most eyebleedingly colorful socks

I'm sorry this drawing makes me very happy and I'm crying again what the hell he gets to be happy!!!

Either he starts a justin.TV or he works at just Some Job and annoys people. If he ever comes face to face with a Karen they're so fucked he's so annoying eats him

Maybe even both, by day he annoys assholes into leaving, and by night he plays viddy games

End ID.]

Close ups under the cut

Not transcribing these because the transcript above already describes the contents, but I did add alt text

#cassie draws #hlvrai #benrey #half life vr but the ai is self aware #benrey freeman #frenrey #implied #ask to tag #ref sheet

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archiveofmiksown · 6 months

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CHAPTER 4. AND I'M TRYING TO GET IT STRAIGHT WHY THE FUCK I CAME BACK IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!

When Black Mesa first began their project to dig a hole to the center of the Earth, they had set aside a single space within the research facility to dedicate to the idea. A wide, 50m square room had been offered up to the noble pursuit of knowledge, gutted and hollowed for science's sake. When Black Mesa scientists discovered that, unfortunately, digging a hole straight into the center of the Earth was not only costly, not only tedious, but also damn near impossible, they had abandoned the project… only to take it up again a month or so later. This time, they had identified where they had failed— the crevice they had drilled into the ground led straight into a reservoir of bubbling and boiling magma. Science will later discover this to be known as the 'upper mantle.' And so they sought to find a new, magma-less altar for their Earth-center-finding ritual. After months of searching, they had found it; a sweet spot of emptiness between their laboratories. They dug, and dug, and managed 500 or so feet before growing exhausted. Thus, their dreams to dig into the center of the Earth had died. But their ambitions live on in the two massive holes piercing into Black Mesa's heart, enshrined in the bubbling, boiling magma of one, and immortalized in the dark abyss of the other.

Bubby had always been fond of this anecdote. Dreams, however lofty, were still worth pursuing. Even if they would end up unfinished, they would at least leave a mark— they never made it to their ultimate reality, but at least they dug two really cool pits. That alone made it worth it.

However, standing in this room now, a 50 meter square pool of molten rock bubbling far below him, and the soles of his shoes leaving smears of melted leather on the ground, he's beginning to reconsider just how much he likes that story.

Behind him, Gordon curses.

"Fucking hell, man," he groans, "why on Earth do we just have a whole ass lava room here?"

"It's one of the few remnants of an old Black Mesa project. It's quite a beautiful story, Gordon…" Bubby responds, reprimanding at first, though hesitation soon brings his tone down. It's admittedly difficult to be optimistic when faced with what felt like a million fucking degrees, "...though, of course, it's more beautiful when you're… uh, not in it."

Gordon flicks the sweat off of his brow using a finger. Then, he tilts his head at the room, a frown cutting across his expression.

"Well. How do you suppose we're getting through this?"

Bubby scoffs. "How the hell should I know? It's a room full of liquid boiling shit, Gordon."

Gordon glares at him. "So you just wanna give up, is that it? All the other hallways led here, it's not like we can just find some other way out!"

Bubby sighs— that same, deep-chested sigh that Gordon always lets out around them. "What do you expect me to do, Gordon? Do you want me to fucking shoot at it?" he gestures to his gun for emphasis, "Do you want me to shoot at the lava?"

Gordon goes silent. He's still seething; indeed, Bubby can sense that his temperament is as hot as the magma. But he speaks no words. Probably because there are none left to say. He takes a deep, shaky breath. Then, slowly, lies down onto the floor. He curls up into a ball.

"I don't know anymore, man. I really fucking don't. I just…" he lifts up his handless arm, staring at it as though he were hexing it, "I just don't wanna be here right now. I… don't wanna die here. I just wanted to live, man! But—" his arm falls onto the floor with a metallic thud. Blood sizzles on the floor where his arm-wound meets it, "I'm here now. With you."

Bubby simply stares at him. Simply maintains a few feet of distance, his hands idle by his side and his face forming a small frown. Sweat drips down his head, trickling down his nape and soaking the collar of his shirt. He makes no effort to wipe it— he makes no effort to move at all.

Gordon sounded… exhausted. It shouldn't be surprising; he was always exhausted, or so he'd say. But his exhaustion didn't have the anger or exasperation that normally accompanied it. Gordon was simply tired; plain and simply tired. No pointed fingers, no insulting scoffs. Just a man who lay battered on the 1000 degree ground, next to a legacy of an unfulfilled dream. It's the first Bubby's ever seen him so worn out— it feels like he's almost intruding on something private.

Bubby directs his gaze towards the lava. The pool gurgles, bubbles popping across the surface like cracks on a screen. The brightness of the sea gives his glasses this awful glare, and when he blinks, all he can see is white. All the while his body melts and melts, the sweat saturating his polo with a warm dampness.

Bubby turns back to Gordon. He's still curled up, with his knees pressed against his chest. Bubby takes a deep breath.

"How do you manage to lay down on this floor like that? It's fucking hot in here."

Gordon rolls over to face him, lifting his head up. "Seriously?" he asks, "is that all you have to fucking say to me right now?" he returns to his position, his head lolling onto the side of the floor with a thud.

"It's the suit," he explains, "this thing's got hella resistance. But my head kinda feels like it's on fire, now that you mention it."

Bubby hums. "Oh yeah, magma will do that. Though I will admit, hot as this is, it's nothing like the real thing."

"The real thing? Like… actually being set on fire?"

"Oh, yes. That one feels much different."

"Huh. Figures."

Silence envelopes them for a while. For what feels like hours, it's nothing but the soft bubbling of magma and the occasional sigh. Bubby takes the time to think— he likes doing that, thinking. He thinks both of them are tired. He thinks both of them hate what's going on. He thinks that maybe they have more in common than they care to admit. That maybe this was the final straw and that they were either going to get through this together or kill each other. He looks at the pit and thinks that the unfinished dreams ought to stop here— that there should be no more abandoned pits scarring the body of Black Mesa. He thinks that the reminder should spur him on. He thinks, and this is a big discovery for him , that maybe that dream meant something. Or that it should mean something and that he should go dig a hole to figure it out. But beyond just digging holes, he should strike the center of the Earth. Really finish what he began. He should go do that so Gordon would stop hating him. And maybe, when he reaches the core, he can finally go home. Or find a home. Or find something close to one, anyways. And he thinks all this while standing in front of that boiling broth of molten mineral, sweating his 3-year old, old man ass off.

Like a drill to Black Mesa ground, Bubby breaks through the quiet by speaking.

"Gordon," he says plainly, "I see an exit on the other side. I think it's a fire exit."

"A fire exit?" Gordon echoes, "This whole thing's a fucking fire hazard, I don't know that an exit's going to help them much—"

Bubby shushes him with a hiss. "No time for that, Gordon! Just know that there's a way out. And that you and I are gonna fucking jump it."

Gordon snaps up. He sits up from his fetal position and turns to him at breakneck speed. "Are you out of your fucking mind?!" he screams. His voice reverberates throughout the whole room.

Bubby simply shrugs. "Maybe. But we have to try. We have to dig that hole through the center of the Earth."

Gordon groans. "Oh my god, you've fucking lost it."

Bubby shakes his head. He takes a step towards Gordon, and offers a hand.

"Not yet. Now," he flicks his head towards the pit, " are you with me or not?"

"You're fucking crazy." Gordon mutters. But he takes the offered hand, anyways. This surprises Bubby, but he doesn't let it show. Instead, he pulls Gordon up with a heave, and takes him to the edge of the room— right near the door they had entered to get here.

His knees fall into a stance. He turns to Gordon. "We're jumping at 3, okay?"

Gordon looks at him. The expression is unreadable. But Bubby can at least sense less vitriol in them. Slowly, he nods.

Bubby takes a deep breath. "Okay. One… THREE!"

"What? WAITWAIT BUBBY NOOOOO—"

When the scientists working on the Black Mesa Center of the Earth project first broke through the facilities' ground, had they known of the ever-shifting sea of magma that lied beneath? When they found that they couldn't go any deeper, did they disappointedly abandon the project, believing that it was a problem that no scientist could hope to solve? When their dreams died, had they known that there would be another to replace it? One that began in a dark, dark room, inside a tight glass tube, but refused to die there?

One thing is certain: of all the things those scientists could have known, they certainly would not have predicted the events that followed.

Bubby practically drags Gordon with him as he sprints, half-melted shoes scuffing against the hot metal ground with every step. As he gets closer and closer to closing in on the gap between the floor and the pit, time seemed to go slower and slower. Bubby can feel his feet glide through the air, viscous like molasses. He sees it— the space where the ground and the emptiness met. A horizon of opportunity that he needed only launch himself over, like a rocket.

Bubby hates heights, so he looks ahead as he jumps. Gordon screams as he clings onto Bubby's arm. He can spy the exit door grow closer and closer— see that same horizon form on the ledge opposite them. By some miracle, they're past the halfway point of this gap. They need only make this jump.

"Bubby, we're gonna fucking fall!" Gordon screeches.

"What? No we're not— Oh, shit."

But it seems some dreams are too lofty to survive. They begin to lose height, the angle of their jump falling downwards. Bubby grits his teeth. Instincts overtake him— brains tended to go into auto-pilot when met with near-death situations, he finds. Bubby takes Gordon into both of his arms and, using what strength he could muster, throws him across the rest of the gap. Gordon screams. Bubby screams.

Bubby's plummeting faster than he'd like— looks like every action has an equal and opposite reaction, idiot. The pit is deep, deep enough that it would be a while before he would reach the bottom, but at the rate he's falling at right now, Bubby knows it's only a matter of when he'd make contact with the magma, not if. It's an awful experience, being so certain of defeat, and Bubby wails all the way down.

"Bubby?! Bubby!" Gordon yells above him. His head pokes out of the edge, peering into the pit.

"Oh, Gordon!" Bubby cries as he falls and falls, arms flailing helplessly, "I think I fucked it up!"

"No, no, no, this can't be happening…" Gordon's voice sounds thick with emotion— is that… sadness, Bubby can hear? "You stupid old man! We should have found another way!"

"Well, at least now you can't say I didn't at least try to help you!"

"What— are you seriously fucking worried about that?!"

"Of course I am Gordon, I care about— HOLYSHIT WAIT"

He doesn't know how it happened. He finds that there's honestly a lot he doesn't know about Black Mesa, considering that he's been here his whole life. But his downward velocity very suddenly and painfully comes to a stop. He's not sinking into the magma— in fact, it seems like he's hit a floor. Bubby screams as his back meets with the barrier, the shock of the impact bursting up his spine like grenades.

Gordon's eyes are wide with disbelief.

"What the fuck?!" his shoulders shake, "What the fuck happened?! Is—" he squints, "Is that an invisible fucking floor?!"

Bubby can't answer— not right now. His ears are ringing, his eyes are blinded by the light, and with this much cortisol pumping through his body, he feels rather delirious. Bubby laughs. He lets his body splay limply across the ground, nevermind the way it burned.

"Hah!" he says, half-triumphant and half-stunned, "the dream yet lives!"

Gordon runs a hand through his hair. Bubby can't make out too much of an expression, but he thinks a lot of the color's drained from his face— then again, everything seemed to have color drained from it. Blame the blinding, searing light.

"I can't fucking believe it." Gordon says. Bubby breaks out into hoarse, wheezing laughter. He puts a hand to his forehead as his voice echoes through the room.

"Me neither. Haha! Anyways." Weakly, he lifts his arms up, "Would you mind helping me up? Please?"

Gordon falls silent. Bubby wiggles his hands, as though to urge him.

"Bubby." he finally responds, "You can't expect me to fucking do that."

Bubby's arms fall onto the floor. He groans.

"...Bastard."

#mik text #old wounds #hlvrai bubby #hlvrai gordon #hlvrai #dr bubby #gordon feetman

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yaellaharpe-blog · 3 months

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LAS VENUS DEL HAMBRE

THE VENUSES OF HUNGER

(English / Español)

In stone, mammoth ivory, bone or even terracotta, the so-called "Venuses" populated Europe and Asia during the last glaciations. They are undoubtedly the most famous category of Palaeolithic artefacts. Artistic representation of an ideal of beauty? Fertility cult? Amulets? Portraits or even self-portraits? Toys? Many interpretations have been ventured, including some that we are not going to point out because we are in children's time. But the University of Colorado has put a new hypothesis on the table suggesting that the motivation of the artists was much more urgent and dramatic.

For Dr Richard Johnson and his team, so far no approach has assessed the relationship of figurines of obese women to the climatic and environmental changes that were taking place more than 30,000 years ago. Johnson argues that the time period associated with the Upper Palaeolithic figurines correlates with advancing glaciers and falling temperatures. In other words, hunger, nutritional stress and starvation. And he has found that figurines show greater obesity during the time of glacial advance and less during glacial retreat, and the figurines of women closest to the glaciers show the greatest obesity. For Johnson, in a scenario of scarcity, obesity became an ideal to be achieved. They understood that an obese woman was able to maintain a pregnancy to the end and breastfeed the baby without problems. In contrast, thinner or starving women lost their pregnancies, perished in childbirth or were unable to feed their babies properly. In short, this new hypothesis turns the Venus into a symbol of survival.

En piedra, marfil de mamut, hueso o incluso en barro cocido, las llamadas "Venus" poblaban Europa y Asia durante las últimas glaciaciones. Son sin duda la categoría de arte mobiliar más famosa del Paleolítico. ¿Representación artística de un ideal de belleza? ¿Culto a la fertilidad? ¿Amuletos? ¿Retratos o, incluso autorretratos? ¿Juguetes? Muchas interpretaciones se han aventurado, incluso alguna que no vamos a señalar por encontrarnos en horario infantil. Pero la Universidad de Colorado ha puesto sobre la mesa una nueva hipótesis sugiriendo que la motivación de los artistas o las artistas era mucho más urgente y dramática. Y es que para el Dr. Richard Johnson y su equipo, hasta ahora ningún enfoque ha evaluado la relación de las figurillas de mujeres con obesidad con los cambios climáticos y ambientales que se estaban produciendo hace más de 30.000 años. Expone Johnson que el período de tiempo asociado con las figurillas del Paleolítico superior se correlaciona con el avance de los glaciares y la caída de las temperaturas. Es decir, con el hambre, el estrés nutricional y la inanición.Pero la Universidad de Colorado ha puesto sobre la mesa una nueva hipótesis sugiriendo que la motivación de los artistas o las artistas era mucho más urgente y dramática. Y es que para el Dr. Richard Johnson y su equipo, hasta ahora ningún enfoque ha evaluado la relación de las figurillas de mujeres con obesidad con los cambios climáticos y ambientales que se estaban produciendo hace más de 30.000 años. Expone Johnson que el período de tiempo asociado con las figurillas del Paleolítico superior se correlaciona con el avance de los glaciares y la caída de las temperaturas. Es decir, con el hambre, el estrés nutricional y la inanición. Y ha descubierto que las figurillas muestran mayor obesidad durante el tiempo de avance del glaciar y menos durante el retroceso del glaciar, y las figurillas de mujeres más cercanas a los glaciares presentan la mayor obesidad. Para Johnson, en un escenario de escasez la obesidad se convirtió en un ideal a alcanzar. Entendían que una mujer obesa era capaz de mantener un embarazo hasta el final y de amamantar al bebé sin problemas. Por el contrario, las mujeres más delgadas o castigadas por el hambre perdían sus embarazos, perecían en el parto o no podían alimentar correctamente a sus bebés. En definitiva, esta nueva hipótesis convierte a las Venus en símbolos de supervivencia.

Fuente: ArqueoEduca

#venus paleolitica #palaeolithic venus #Palaeolithic artefacts #arte paleolitico

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greysfic · 1 year

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Once, there was a Republic

I am Enso Wylam, of Tombwatch. Don't let the name fool you - it's a nice enough city, all things considered. It's the view, you know? Up here on the mesa we can see the buried spires of the Tomb. They say it was where the Magi of old times made planetfall here, that once it was a city of wonder and majesty that towered to the upper atmo. Now it's a barrow under the red sands.

My ancestors came to this planet with genes optimized to survive until it looked like the homeworld - first planet colonized, first wave of colonists. Built for the harsh climes.

But then a cataclysm came, a war that destroyed the old Republic. In the stories, it's said that aliens from beyond the edge of the solar system arrived in ships of spun glass and living bone, and fought the Magi with weapons that shattered one of the moons of the homeworld. It's said that the Magi made their own monsters to fight back, and they got out of control, so they had to fight a war on two fronts. By the time they found a weapon to beat the invaders it was too late.

And just as soon as they appeared, the Others were gone and the Magi all dead. Chaos followed; the shipping lanes collapsed and vital infrastructure in ruin. Without the Magi, we were like children. To this day, we still don't know how their machines work, and we surely can't reproduce them. Everything we know about physics, they just... they ignored it. Bent it. We had to learn everything over again while renegade bioweapons terrorized the system and rogue military declared they were taking control in the absence of the Magus Council.

We had help, though, or so the stories say. No one has seen a Bandi in centuries - the eyeless sentinels who protected my ancestors in silence, appearing from nowhere to fend off threats with gun and blade, before disappearing as if swallowed by the sands. No great story about why they stopped coming; they just... stopped. Kept us safe in the centuries after the fall and then were gone.

Still, we're lucky. There are former colonies out there that have forgotten civilisation, that really believe in gods and monsters. Others have been taken over by the Jukari, theocratic cyborgs with violet eyes and an immortal empress who calls the works of the Magi blasphemous. We still have an ancient orbital defense array intact, so they haven't got us yet. But it seems like a matter of time before we're enslaved, too. Can't match their technology.

Some of the younger folk are talking about going to the Tomb. They think they can wake up the Bandi, to save us.

Maybe they're right.

#ttrpgs #world building #these benighted stars #sci fantasy

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tvdoes · 2 years

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Zonnia Pokedex: Anoil, Voleptile, and Tegutan

Anoil

Bark Lizard Pokemon Grass / Fire Treecko + Tepig

Appearance

Anoil are small quadrupedal reptilian Pokemon, which measure twenty inches from head to tail. The Pokemon are covered in a rough, bark-like, red-brown hide, whose ridged shapes are lined with patches of softer green in the dips between ridges, resembling the layer beneath bark of a tree.

Anoil have large heads, with round yellow eyes that bulge upwards, covered by thick individual brows. The mouth of Anoil opens wide and is toothless. From around the mouth down the neck and underbelly, Anoil are covered in smoother white scales, with them creating a smiling appearance around the mouth against the darker red-brown scales of its upper half.

The feet of Anoil all end in three toes, with the underside of the feet being especially rough - allowing the Pokemon strong purchase for climbing. The long tail of Anoil is strongly prehensile, the Pokemon commonly twisting it in a corkscrew shape around targets of affection, such as their fellows or the arms of Trainers.

Flammable oil seeps from the green portions of Anoil's back, welling up over time. When this oil ignites, the sections between the bark-like portions of Anoil come aflame, burning fiercely. Due to the fire resistant body of Anoil, this does not hurt the Pokemon, instead serving as a tool of offence.

Ecology

Anoil and their evolutions are native to a very limited portion of the Zonnia Region - a territory within the Region's north-east known as the Cendio Tepui. A tepui is the name for a mesa within Zonnia, with a number of these massive stone structures located across the north-eastern stretch of the region, collectively known as The Cluster. Each tepui boasts a measure of unique plant and Pokemon life, due to their massive height separating them from surrounding lowlands. The Cendio Tepui stands unique among them thanks to the large number of pyrophytic plantlife it contains - plants that reproduce and thrive when exposed to active flame.

Due to this requirement for propagation, the Cendio Tepui spends as often covered in raging flame as it does in periods of seemingly peaceful forest. Indeed were one to walk amongst it while no fires raged, it would be easy to mistake the forest for any other. But a combination of plant and Pokemon-life here, both of which produce flammable oils and saps, makes this forest a deathtrap - easily able to burst into flame at a moment's notice. When the peak of the Cendio Tepui rages aflame, it appears as a burning torch for miles around. Across Zonnia's history, myths and tales of the Cendio Tepui are common.

Anoil, much like a large portion of the Cendio Tepui's plantlife, produce a flammable liquid from their bodies. Due to the bark-like texture of Anoil's body, the Pokemon are often referred to as incarnated spirits of the Cendio Tepui's trees. By spreading their oils across their territory, Anoil and its evolutions help increase the intensity and range of the Cendio Tepui's burns, in turn reducing their frequency.

Anoil consume plant matter and small insects for food. When drawn into combat, their first response is to spit a concentrated form of the oil they naturally produce, and then set it aflame with a puff of fire - which is about all the raw flame the Pokemon can muster, though that is more than enough with an environment primed to combust. When the Pokemon does set itself aflame, it is quick to leap into targets to spread that flame about. Although fire is the most common form of attack Anoil makes, when such fails to work it will fall back on Grass-type attacks - which it appears just as capable of generating from within its body.

Field Report

Despite the extremely limited range Anoil lives within, the Pokemon enjoys a place as one of the Zonnia Region's most known and popular, thanks to its designation as one of the Region's three Starter Pokemon. To serve in this role, much like with Capyzen, a controlled breeding population of Anoil is kept in a sister site to the Cendio Tepui, similarly isolated but much less flammable, allowing the Pokemon to reproduce in accessible safety and have individual instances distributed to neophyte Trainers of the Zonnia Region.

Unlike Capyzen, who has a long-standing history as a perfect Pokemon for new Trainers, Anoil's introduction is far more recent. In fact proper study of the Pokemon and its evolution itself only began within the last century, thanks to advancements in modern technology that allowed study to take place despite the risks of raging flame within their natural home.

Anoil, despite all the factors seemingly contrary to its title, is in actuality a perfect fit for a Starter Pokemon. In personality this Pokemon is docile and affectionate, enjoying the company of others and maintaining a peaceful disposition in all but the most stressful of situations. They respond well to commands, battle with surprising calm, and are keen judges of their environments. In combat their combination of Fire and Grass-type attacks make them varied and powerfully battlers, and the evolutions of Anoil demonstrate significant power. They grow steadily with attention and care, and are excellent peacekeepers among many disparate Pokemon. This wide, wide range of positive personality and physicality traits make Anoil fantastic Pokemon partners, and the program that oversees their reproduction, as an associate of the Zonnia Pokemon Foundation, faces consistent requests for new individuals.

The flammable oil that Anoil produces is a response to their environment in the Cendio Tepui, the trees they live amongst encouraging production. While this Pokemon still produces the oil on its own, the volume is notably lower such that regular bathing - which the Pokemon also enjoys - is enough to keep it from becoming a fire hazard. Or at least any more of one than any other Fire-type Pokemon.

Follow the source link to AO3 to learn about the evolutions of Anoil: Voleptile and Tegutan!

#tvwrites #Pokemon #Pokemon Fusions #Zonnia Pokedex

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mixcartus · 23 days

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vionic Women’s Orthaheel Chill Mesa Slip On Leopard Loafers Size 10.

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natures-moments · 1 year

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Upper Mesa Falls, Idaho, USA

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mbsposts · 2 months

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Tuesday, June 13, 2023 Day 13

End Mileage 31224 3:00 PM MDT

Start Mileage 31117 8:40 AM MDT

Miles 107

Gas 30.20

Lunch 23.00

Fudge 10.70

Camp 92.88

Food 5.60

Total 162.38

Started the day slowly. Began the last leg of the journey to West Yellowstone via the Mesa parkway. I stopped at the Lower Mesa Falls overlook, the Upper Mesa Falls, a display of White Wyethia and Blue Camas with Purple and Gold colors. At Upper Mesa Falls took the nature trail to the brink of the Lower falls. Wildflowers were in abundance. Lastly stopped at a local wildlife reserve with a lot of fisherman on the river. Got my campsite at the KOA for two nights. Then I went to town for lunch of the buffet of salad and soup. Enjoyable. Back at the campground I did laundry. It began to shower again. Spent most of the afternoon in my van. Did go to the camp store and had a meal of hot pockets. They were good to warm me up. Had trouble using the internet, but overall it was a good day.

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tiptapricot · 1 year

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Misadventure May Days 9, 10, & 11!

Combined a few days bc that’s how it shook out! See you back on day 12 :-)

———

9+10+11. Detour Ahead, Surprise!, Tumble Down

Romero immediately jerks forwards and yanks Rigel’s arm up. The bat rears away accordingly, confused and disoriented and still going too fast, and he hears Rigel swear seconds before the impact.

The mesa slams against the creature’s side like a racehorse and sends it spinning, the mesmerizing light show popping out in Romero’s periphery as his legs are thrown out into open air. He manages to keep a hold on Rigel, his forehead and (miraculously, still) his hat pressed tight against their upper spine as the creature spirals erratically. They hit sand once, bouncing hard before flailing over the edge of a cliff and down.

“Hold on now!” Rigel shouts, leaning back and trying to steer the creature up.

Below them the desert has vanished, the ground sinking onwards infinitely black, and Romero realizes with a fluttering exasperation that they’ve been flung out into the Salt Canyons.

Fantastic.

Damn, this night has been a shitshow.

He strains to pull himself back against the beast, freeing one hand to keep his hat safe while the other arm continues keeping him tethered. Rigel can do whatever damn thing they want right now to try and get them out of this, Romero doesn’t care, but he’ll be a dead man before he loses his old ten-gallon for good. Which, with his current record, he’s hoping will be a good long while still.

Assuming this isn’t the thing that kills him.

“Goddamit c‘mon now!” Rigel jerks the reins again, and this time the beast manages to rear up, wings grazing against something rocky, but still twisting impossibly fast and evermore downwards.

Romero swears he almost hears them groan, before their voice pipes up again.

“Gonna try and get us to an outcropping!” they shout. “Keep your tray tables up and your seatbelts fastened and puh-lease check with a staff member before getting up as we are experiencing tur-bu-lence!”

The words are said fast enough Romero barely has time to question them before Rigel is procuring a flare and cracking it with their teeth, tossing it in a spitting, fiery arc above them.

“Enjoy the lights and hold on tight, we have reached a special occasion!”

And then they move.

The flare flashes against stony ridges and harsh white slopes of fossil matter, illuminating the coast of the canyon in a gleaming descent into the darkness below, and Rigel pulls on the reins with a force that makes them snap taught. The beast lists to the left harshly, Rigel’s heels digging into the meat of its neck and guiding it down, and Romero catches sight of their landing point just as the flare falls past it.

Small. It is too small and they’re falling too fast and then it is gone.

Rigel keeps on course anyway, shoulders set straight and determined, a glistening anchor in Romero’s small pool of light. They’re shooting in the dark, literally, and yet he doesn’t see them shrink away, doesn’t see them resign.

Any moment.

They’ll hit it any moment.

They’ll fall.

That same breathless anticipation builds in Romero’s gut, but this time he knows why, and this time, it is not because of a man made of lights.

And yet… still, it is accompanied by a rising buzz, by an electric swell in his chest, by an urgent sense to wait and to see.

Just as the outcropping is illuminated, just as it passes barely too fast and too far for them to reach, a howling wind barrels into them from below, hundreds of invisible hands pushing them up and over in a muffled, rising cry.

It gets them over the edge.

The bat creature skids hard along porous rock, dust and debris scattering in its wake, and it's in the moment that follows—the moment after Romero is thrown off with a harsh scrape of his forearm along crystalline bone—that he finally realizes why Rigel must find humor and brash hope in it all.

Because as he locks eyes with them in the moment before falling into the deep, dark, depths, Romero wishes very much that he could laugh.

———

(ID in ALT)

#misadventure may 2023 #misadventure may #my fic #my-fic #the fruits ocs #romero tag #rigel tag #sebastían tag #the fruit is talking again #writing #cowboys

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theyoungturks · 1 year

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Outdated rules and corruption are brewing a lot of animosity between communities who use the water from the Colorado River Basin. Ana Kasparian and Cenk Uygur discuss on The Young Turks. Watch TYT LIVE on weekdays 6-8 pm ET. http://youtube.com/theyoungturks/live Read more HERE: https://www.propublica.org/article/colorado-river-water-uncompahgre-california-arizona "On a crisp day this fall I drove southeast from Grand Junction, Colorado, into the Uncompahgre Valley, a rich basin of row crops and hayfields. A snow line hung like a bowl cut around the upper cliffs of the Grand Mesa, while in the valley some farmers were taking their last deliveries of water, sowing winter wheat and onions. I turned south at the farm town of Delta onto Route 348, a shoulder-less two-lane road lined with irrigation ditches and dent corn still hanging crisp on their browned stalks. The road crossed the Uncompahgre River, and it was thin, nearly dry. The Uncompahgre Valley, stretching 34 miles from Delta through the town of Montrose, is, and always has been, an arid place. Most of the water comes from the Gunnison River, a major tributary of the Colorado, which courses out of the peaks of the Elk Range through the cavernous and sun-starved depths of the Black Canyon, one rocky and inaccessible valley to the east. In 1903, the federal government backed a plan hatched by Uncompahgre farmers to breach the ridge with an enormous tunnel and then in the 1960s to build one of Colorado’s largest reservoirs above the Black Canyon called Blue Mesa. Now that tunnel feeds a neural system of water: 782 miles worth of successively smaller canals and then dirt ditches, laterals and drains that turn 83,000 Western Colorado acres into farmland. Today, the farm association in this valley is one of the largest single users of Colorado River water outside of California." *** The largest online progressive news show in the world. Hosted by Cenk Uygur and Ana Kasparian. LIVE weekdays 6-8 pm ET. Help support our mission and get perks. Membership protects TYT's independence from corporate ownership and allows us to provide free live shows that speak truth to power for people around the world. See Perks: ▶ https://www.youtube.com/TheYoungTurks/join SUBSCRIBE on YOUTUBE: ☞ http://www.youtube.com/subscription_center?add_user=theyoungturks FACEBOOK: ☞ http://www.facebook.com/TheYoungTurks TWITTER: ☞ http://www.twitter.com/TheYoungTurks INSTAGRAM: ☞ http://www.instagram.com/TheYoungTurks TWITCH: ☞ http://www.twitch.com/tyt 👕 Merch: http://shoptyt.com ❤ Donate: http://www.tyt.com/go 🔗 Website: https://www.tyt.com 📱App: http://www.tyt.com/app 📬 Newsletters: https://www.tyt.com/newsletters/ If you want to watch more videos from TYT, consider subscribing to other channels in our network: The Watchlist https://www.youtube.com/watchlisttyt Indisputable with Dr. Rashad Richey https://www.youtube.com/indisputabletyt Unbossed with Nina Turner https://www.youtube.com/unbossedtyt The Damage Report ▶ https://www.youtube.com/thedamagereport TYT Sports ▶ https://www.youtube.com/tytsports The Conversation ▶ https://www.youtube.com/tytconversation Rebel HQ ▶ https://www.youtube.com/rebelhq TYT Investigates ▶ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCwNJt9PYyN1uyw2XhNIQMMA #TYT #TheYoungTurks #BreakingNews 221227__TA05 by The Young Turks

#IFTTT #YouTube

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