anthracites

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Mysterious Death of Zigmund Adamski 

One June 6th of 1980, Zigmund left his house to do some grocery shopping. When he didn’t return for a family wedding the next day, his family started to get worried. 

His body was found five days later (June 11th) in Todmorden next to a railway line. Trevor Parker, son of the coal yard owner, made the gruesome discovery PC Alan Godfrey was sent to investigate. His body was found face down on top 12 foot high pile of anthracite. He was found without a shirt, the rest of his clothes seemed like they were put on him by someone who had very little idea of how to put them on (both his shoes and pants were put on incorrectly). Even though he had been missing for 5 days, he only had a single day of beard growth. His neck and shoulders also had burn marks on them and forensics found that some kind of strange ointment was applied to them though they could not identify it.

Dr Alan Edwards, the consulting pathologist at the Royal Halifax Infirmary, conducted the post-mortem examination in Hebden Bridge just after 9pm that day he was found. Dr Edwards’ professional judgment placed the time of death between 11am and 1pm on the day that Adamski was found, while the burns were two days old. The exact cause of death was a matter of such deliberation, that Adamski’s death took Coroner James Turnbull several months to register. It was ruled as a heart-attack.

PC Alan Godfrey didn’t believe that Zigmund died of a heart attack, he believed that Zigmund was abducted by aliens. Godfrey claimed that he himself had witnessed a UFO in Todmorden. He went to investigate what he thought was an overturned bus, but was shocked when he saw it hovering 5 feet above the ground. He claims that the next thing he remembers is being back in his patrol car driving off. He claims that he had similar burn marks and a strange green gel on his neck too. He was put under hypnosis and asked about his encounter. The 2nd picture is his sketch of the UFO and the aliens he had an encounter with. Godfrey stuck to his claims that Zigmund was abducted by aliens and dropped back after they used him for research.

Zigmund’s family believes it was a case of human abduction instead of alien abduction. They believe he was being held captive and died of a heart attack.

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Nice looking piece of anthracite coal

SILF = Sim I’d Like to F…ondle

There’s surely a sim out there, you’d like to fondle… Well, it’s time to tell it to everyone. Don’t be shy!

RULES: CHOOSE A SIM MADE BY AN ANOTHER SIMBLR YOU’D LIKE TO FONDLE IF HE/SHE WAS REAL… AND THEN TAG 5 SIMBLRS.

*If you can find a picture of your SILF, it’s better but not mandatory.

MY SILF IS…

Erundil by @anthracite-camelies, I’d fondle the crap out of that purple everlast.

I TAG - @anthracite-camelies, @aboxfullofocs, @unicorninthemosh, @koffeecake and @iheartdinosx3!

Even the smallest things can shine.


[ @tavis-of-bannorn liked my “Hi” post for a starter. Status: OPEN ]


A gaggle of children. They were dalish, and human, and–one even had tiny horns? (which were adorable, of course. Must be qunari?) were outside and gathered giggling-loud in a semi-circle. Perhaps ten, perhaps teen, they were almost as tall as the person they surrounded who–though the color wasn’t rare really, was noticeable enough in the middle of autumn where snow had not yet fallen. 

White hair, as white as the mistaken robes painted on the very not-the-inquisitor-figure on the Herald’s Rest sign, was engaged in the middle of rapturous crowd. 

A simple trick, really. A spin of a gold Fereldan coin betwixt leather clad knuckles, woven through and under and over and around short fingers that should not have moved that quick (but did.) 

Sometimes, she would pull that same coin from a teen’s ear–sometimes from dirty hair. Sometimes from thin air. The youngest giggled and tittered; the older, full of teen-angst, crossed armed and remarked that it was no magic. 

Anthracite stopped entirely to focus on a young, bitter faced human. 

“No magic? No magic? Why, youngin’, I tells ya–everything be magic, iffin y’look at it right, aye? Even if y’ken the reason behind something, right? Y’can still say it’s magic. A sorta everyday magic, if you will. Why….leaves that change colors. Women who make babies, healers’ that can, through no magic, bring y’back from the brink o’ death….Tell me that’s not magic?” 

A question for the crowd, and anyone nearby. 

I did gem cuts for almost all my current gemsonas!!

From the top they are:

Amblygonite, Sodalite, Angel Aura Quartz, Maroon Pearl
Spinel, Iolite, Ulexite, Noreena Jasper, Chrysocolla
Kunzite, Anthracite 01, Anthracite 02, Jet
Bixbite, Pink Sapphire, Serpentine
Noreena Jasper and Chrysocolla as Idocrase, Spinel and Iolite as Charoite

You may not copy/trace these and use them as your own!

anonymous asked:

What are your favorite simblr?

asdfghjkljhgfdfghjhgfdsdfghgfdsdfghjgfdsasdfghgfdsdfghgfd I’m worried that I’ll forget someone and also I’m going to do this alphabetical (I’ll try bc my knowledge in this area isn’t trustworthy as c can come after g akjfkf) bc I want to avoid “being listed” from the coolest one to nah


@aboxfullofocs@anthracite-camelies@applepiedimples@barleycoffee@bericlain@beverlyallitsims@blindingechoes@bridgeportgirl ✨ @churrosims ✨ @crimsonsims@fatpandasims@femmeonamissionsims ✨ @galaxsim@graentea@john-sims@jusstsan@kismet-sims@lilytita@literallywhothe@maimouth@moonfllwr ✨ @mummasim@nadinemaee@omgdoubleume@pixelatedpeaches@pixelven@qvoix@rambunctioussimmer@samantha8982@sammyshuno@samtastic-sims@sim-bubble@simcataris@simlishanddreams@sim-pi@solistair@tigresssimmer ✨ @tinwhistletoo@tofusaucee@winniemoon@witch-hammers@zauglom@108sims


ugh I hope I didn’t forget anyone… However, it’s not a follow forever list. Those are the blogs that inspire me and I love seeing their stories, screenshots, everything on my dash.

Turn Your Cloak

@ye-lost-bard

Thedas held so many secrets, red-run and forgotten. All across the Hinterlands, through hills, through copses, through jagged rocky rises that appeared to stretch broken toward the sky–remnants of the dreams of many people lay. As if in deepest slumber, waiting to be re-remembered by those no longer there. Some of the structures nearly ground to dust were recent. Log cabins built with hands of perseverance and hope irrevocably shattered by hate, war and rapid change. 

The ground would soon eat those newer structures while seemingly spitting out the older. 

All around her, the forest conspired to creep its eraser along the crumbled skeleton of stone built home. Discovered a mile or so away from base-camp on one of her daily self-jaunts, oaks and aspen filtered the sun to a pleasant cool brightness that seemed to soften the ruin in daylight.   (It cleared her head. And something about the scent of damp loam and sun warmed leaves made her calm.) Whomever built this, tried to build it to last. Each rounded rock placed in precise consideration for balance, strength. 



“An’ yet,” Anthy murmured to herself, placing a hand on the only wall that remained. “Y’ still no stronger than time, aye?” 

She gave the old wall a pat, eyes trailing the many vines that thrust through the spaces mortar might have been, 

Dwarfcicles

[[continued from here: xxxxx ]]

“Is that your excuse to hug me, Anthracite?” Kaaras asked with a chuckle. Perhaps there was a blush, perhaps there was not, it was dark, and so she would not know. There was a fire, yes, but even then, it was cold out here in the snow. And the camp was very small this time around, just a few scouts and Kaaras’ party. Anthracite wasn’t the first to complain of the cold, but Kaaras was used to it–and he generated more body heat than the non-qunari.

“If so, you only need to ask.” He was being silly, but Anthracite brought out the more playful side of the Inquisitor. That in itself was a good sign, considering he was a particularly guarded individual.

They were the only ones up, though, and that was because Kaaras was on watch for the rest of the night, so he couldn’t return to the warmth of his tent yet. Anthracite, he supposed, just wasn’t ready for bed.



@kaaras-adaar

A little snow? She could handle that. A little blizzard, a bit of a few frozen nights–sure–no problem. Dwarva constitution and fine crafts and all that, yes. Her body temperature ran a little warmer than humans, and so she was usually the one humming a cheerful tune even when teets up in a snowbank trying to wade through (and often the one stuck in the back because of how much shorter she was. Little legs. Big snow drift. It was effort.) Meanwhile, the humans would be shivering and bemoaning damp boots and damp gloves. 

Tonight though, the wind was positively unforgiving. It moaned through the air as vengeful as any spirit that sent her teeth on edge. Any time Anthracite had tried to get comfortable within her tent, a gust of wind so freezing cold would rattle it, or whistle between the lashed shut flap, or wind its way under the blankets she’d pulled up under her nose that it would startle her wide awake. Not to mention the sound of the wind. 

She’d given up after what seemed like several hours of twisting, turning, sighing, flopping and flinging, and went in search of something to do or someone to talk to. Or anything that wasn’t cold. 

Though the scouts had set several fires throughout the camp to keep those who stood watch warm, the wind made it impossible to really catch most of the heat–beating the flames near sideways. Anthracite had tried to get warm near one fire and only ended up getting smoke in her eyes. Besides that, standing too close to the fire made you blind to what might come at you in the night–

–Not that that mattered, because it was snowing freaking SIDEWAYS on top of everything else. 

Meandering past the fires or tents could mean getting lost and frozen. Thankfully, Kaaras, highlighted in a singular tall iron brazier (what could they say, the Inquisition loved him. Someone had drug that along just to keep him warm) was at least a visual spark to draw her near. She huddled up to his left side without a single coquettish flutter of lash, inappropriate comment, or smarmy saying. She must be cold. 

“If I wa-wa-wanted an ‘scuse t’ huh-huh-hug ya I’d jus’ fu-fu-fu-fu-fu–cuss!–an’ wh-whooosh! There ye’d be sq-squeezin’ me ribs t’ fla-flatness.” 

She spread her hands over the flames in the brazier in between rubbing them together and clenching them to keep them warm. 

She managed to somehow side-eye him while looking all the way up at him, as if disgusted by how easily he seemed fine with the weather. 

“Huh-how is it ye-ye-yer no freezin’ yer gibblies off?!”