chopping hands

anonymous asked:

Hey you’re like the most successful cosplayer ever and I’d chop off my own hand to have a little bit of that talent -Nicoletta

// silly girl sewing with just one hand is inpractical XD i think you are more talented. I just have a lot of experience. My first cosplay i made 20 years ago. I didn’t even knew other people were doing that stuff tbh, internet was not that highly spread. Google did not exist. I didn’t have any friends to share it with so all my fanfics and costumes and drawings were just for me really. Maybe thats for the best ;)

A man once stole, and after being caught, he said to Umar: “I stole because this was the Qadr of Allāh.”


Umar said to him: “I am going to chop off your hand because it was the Qadr of Allāh.”


[ابن تيمية في منهاج السنة النبوية ٢٣٤/٣]

instagram

🎨

6

From infusions and tinctures to oils and salves: The basics of herbal healing and the beginnings of any potion


Decoction: A decoction is needed to extract the deeper essence from harder substances such as barks, roots and stems. Place the raw materials in a pot and fill it with fresh water. Simmer uncovered until the water lever is reduced by 1/3. Strain the resulting liquid to remove particulates then drink or use as needed. Infusion: Pour freshly boiled water over the desired herb or planar matter, roughly 8 ounces of water per teaspoon of dried plant parts. When using fresh herbs roughly 3 times as much is required. 


Oil: Place flowers, herbs or other plant parts in a sealed glass container. Fill the container with an organic oil (ex: Olive, sesame, etc…) until it is an inch above the material being used. Place the bottle somewhere warm for 2 weeks, next to a stove while cooking, on the mantle, a sunny window sill, etc. Upend the container daily to ensure the oil saturates the material. 


Ointment: Heat 2 cups of pure lard to frying temperature. Add 4 handfuls of crumbled dry herbs or 6 handfuls of chopped fresh herb to the lard. Stir to to blend and let simmer for 1 minute. Remove from heat, cover and let sit over night. Reheat until liquid then mix in 4 tablespoons of an organic oil, this will prevent it hardening to much. Squeeze through a cheese clothe to remove solids and store in a crockery or glass container. 


Salve: Mix 3 ounces of finely pulped plant parts, 7 ounces of lard and 1 ounce of beeswax. When thoroughly mixed simmer over low heat in active red pot for 1-2 hours. Remove from eat and allow to cool. 


 Tincture: A tincture uses alcohol to extract the properties of a herb or plant. Loosely fill a glass container with fresh or dried herbs and add some sort of food grade spirit (ex: vodka), vinegar can also be used for certain ingredients. Cork or otherwise seal the container and leave somewhere warm for 2 or more weeks. 

 *Information from “Healing Teas - How to prepare and use read to maximize your health” by Marie Nadine Antol. 

**images from google.

Hypothetically, lets say i know how to colour

I’m trying a new shading style. Similarly, i keep fucking up and drawing is now my singular therapy. 

This is a shit show of a caption pls ignore me.

timetravelturtle  asked:

Responding to your post about twist endings and Rod Serling: Do you think that the "No, Luke, I am your father" reveal in Empire Strikes Back works as a powerful twist? It's hard to view it as anything but obligatory after almost 40 years of references but at one point it was truly shocking, I think. Still, I'm not sure if the themes that the reveal serves are actually important to the work or if they just match the reveal.

Comparing the “I am your father” ending to the Twilight Zone/Scifi Proposition-Argument-Conclusion ending is like comparing a dolphin to a torpedo; they look the same, but they work in very different ways.

I think it’s important to emphasize here that the ending IS what your story is trying to say; the ending IS the story. If you have a story about the hazards of love that cynically shows how bad relationships can be…but the hero finds true love at the end, it’s an optimistic story that says true love and happiness is possible and relationships are great. The ending is what your story is trying to say.

Now, that said, the reason that the Darth Vader reveal has oomph can only be understood if you look at the Empire Strikes Back script by Lawrence Kasdan, who wrote maybe one of my favorite Westerns, Silverado (I love Westerns as much as scifi, but considering the nature of this blog, that part of my personality doesn’t come up much). It’s worth noting that most scifi writers have an understanding of the basics, something that transfers from genre to genre; the fundamentals of storytelling are the same. Rod Serling won Emmys for drama long before Twilight Zone, for instance.

You can understand what Empire Strikes back is all about from the title, which wasn’t carelessly chosen. It’s a story about how the Rebels are on the run; they are running in the night, and the wolves are after them. It’s impossible to stand and fight. The opening has the rebels in exile in a miserable icy location, from which they are forced to flee.

As the story goes on, things get worse and worse. The heroes are betrayed and have no place to hide. Luke does the impetuous yet loyal and courageous thing to help his friends before he’s ready, which the wise Yoda raises the stakes for by saying that Luke will fail totally if he confronts Darth Vader. The scene on Dagobah with Yoda and Obi-Wan fills us with dread for the meeting to come and raises the stakes for the battle to come; that’s the purpose of the scene.

Are you getting it, now? The point of the story is to have the Empire victorious, to show the sacrifice and loss a rebellion would need. And when Luke goes to see Vader, he has his hand chopped off and his lightsaber lost; he never stood a chance. And that, at the very conclusion of the film, is when the biggest bombshell of all is dropped: Darth Vader is Luke’s father.

The Darth Vader reveal wouldn’t have worked if it came in the middle of the film. It worked because the entire film had been building to it, with loss after loss to the Empire. It’s the ultimate thing to make a hero totally despair in a story that’s all about losing (note that after learning this Luke has no option but to jump to his death). The twist isn’t just thrown in there out of nowhere; the entire film had been building to it, and it’s the final “knockout punch.”

To have an ending like this, you have to identify what your story is about and what it’s trying to say, so you can convince the audience of it. As Brian McDonald says, “lots of young writers ask me if they are being too preachy. Not enough ask me if they are being sufficiently clear.” 

8.25 miles new BNHA same deal as always

  • first and foremost, GODDAMN THE FIGHT SCENE ANIMATION IN THIS EPISODE
  • -shot of Iida bleeding out in a dark alley-
    -shot of jarringly happy and peppy s1 Deku fanboying over Ingenium-
    -shot of Iida bleeding out-
  • “Look properly at who you want to be!” Look, as much as Iida’s been trying to drop like 193 bad-ass one-liners, Todoroki takes the cake here
  • Maybe Todo wins because he was also setting his arm on fire at the same time as he was shouting that
  • These eyebrows have been passed down the Iida family for generations
  • I’m glad to know Iida has always done…The Thing. The Hand Thing. Chop Chop Chop Motherfuckers
  • me, taking screenshots of every frame and stuffing them into my wallet: “these are my three sons
  • .^^^Tenya Iida–a man with a plan
  • ^^^Them
  • Iida: -takes two bullets knives for Todoroki-
    Deku, who wanted to be the one to take two knives for Todoroki: :/
  • ^^^ANYWAY EAT SHIT STAIN
  • Gran Torino: -calls Endeavor “Todoroki”-
    Me: No….put that back…that’s not his
  • Endeavor: Don’t look at your phone!
    Todo: Why? Cuz you hate Millenials, Dad?!!
  • ^^^This is the “Just Got Owned By His Son” Endeavor. Reblog for 10,000 more years of Endeavor getting owned by his son
  • Endeavor, dialing Mama Midoriya: “Hello, Mrs. Midoriya? I’m so sorry to bother you, but it seems my son Shouto has been sneaking out at night to see your son.”
    Mama Midoriya: “Oh my, that doesnt seem like something my Izuku would instigate. Where?? Doing what??”
    Endeavor: “Dark alley, murdering villains. That’s not the point.”
  • Okay the music they play during Endeavor’s fight is fucking bad-ass
  • That whole fight scene is wild jesus christ Endeavor
  • Tired hurt Deku getting a piggy-back ride is the kind of pure content I want more of
  • Todoroki: *Sokka voice* This is some quality rope!
  • I’m laughing at the fucking. Dragging noises. They’re just. Dragging Stain along. On the ground. Anything could happen. Oops he fell in the sewer. Was no one watching the manholes? Bye Fucker
  • I swear my favorite goddamn trope is
    Competent adults: -stumbling onto the scene- these are kids! theyre hurt! what happened!?
    Competent adults: -noticing the kids have somehow taken down the biggest most evil thing in the world- Okay nani the fuck
  • Todoroki, with 8 knives impaled in his body: I got minorly injured.
  • gOOD. FUCKING. BYE DEKU. SEND A POSTCARD.
  • I lied my favorite trope is “Villain of Extreme Evil has taken a liking to the protagonist and gladly saves protag’s ass when no one else can”
  • Those whole last 5 minutes fill me with chills goddamn
  • ^^^save them
  • Gran Torino is in the Next Ep Preview and he straight up calls Todo “The Hand Crusher” and I can’t believe BNHA canon has started shitposting That Scene before I’ve even got the chance
  • Yeah I’m still gonna be shitposting the Hand Crusher thing fight me on it Gran Torino

So I like to think about what would happen if an alien sees, first hand, what a human filled with survival instincts and rage looks like. Mostly I just wanted to write this lol
***

Th'wed never thought the peaceful cargo ship would have crashed, attacked by smugglers for the rare jewels they had been assigned to watch over once it exchanged hands between them and the Humans. A gift of peace. He remembers sneering when he saw the group in ornamental armor and wondering why such a brutish race had survived so long without destroying itself. He cringed when one of them, a blonde female in the robes of a scribe, bared her teeth. All of them are savages.

When the ship went down on a hostile moon orbiting the gas giant he didn’t expect to survive. But he did, all because the humans covered him and the unshielded female. Waking up covered in the viscera of the crew and surrounded by the twisted perversion of the ship he immediately turned and vomited, uncaring for the tube like filaments on his head being coated in the green slime, the scales on them and his face turning a sickly yellow of fear and pain. The cover did not save him completely from harm, leg snapped all three toes curled in pain like a fist.

That’s when he heard it. The mournful wail that sounded more like a vengeful scream. The scribe was not worse for wear but her companions has no such luck, ornamental armor unable to save them from being pierced by the gutted ship. She kneeled beside another warrior, male perhaps, with a neck twisted in a strange way. She sniffed and to his amazement began gathering the group and the crew members, laying them side by side and crossing their arms, closing the eyes of the ones that still had faces. It was a long process and more than once she had to toss away a limb. He leaned over to vomit again.

When he leaned straight again the unnerving creature was staring at him, eyes wide and glossy. She bared her teeth again and made a strange barking sound that he tried to lean away from.

“Of all the fucking people to survive it’s the chick without a gun and the racist torrin.”

She pointed to the near by body of the male she wept over, his dark skin charred black from the flames.

“His name was Christofer and if he didn’t order them to protect you, you’d be dead. Thank him, if you think you can handle thanking a ‘brutish savage’.

The scales tinged pink with embarrassment. So she had heard him complaining to the captain. He never expected her to help him up, short stature surprisingly sturdy as she helped him limp away into the foliage. He was always amazed that such tiny creatures command such fear. She was patient with the shell shocked male, saving her own tears for when they had found water. She used her outer robe to set his leg and left him to go back and scavenger for supplies. Th'wed doesn’t worry much, taking the moment to mourn as quietly as possible, scales turning a dreary grey. Help will come soon. It has to.
***

Help did not come. In the passing of the gas giant and the sun, night and day both equal to three earthling days according to his guid, Morgan, she healed the hollow bones of his leg best to her ability but he suspects he will limp for the rest of his life. Her eyes grew colder everyday although she smiles more. He remembers almost fondly the hysterical laughter she had when she explained that her species barred their teeth in joy and politeness. She hunted for them while he used his own knowledge of those sector to find edible plants and fish. Their dynamic grew into a fondness, perhaps even friendship, the smaller alien often touching him. Petting his "hair” or examining his pink hued skin or his clawless limbs. She was fascinated with his eyes, large and round and completely black. Equated him to something she calls an owl.

He often looks back at the day he asked her how she knows to survive and hunt, the smile he is now able to differentiate from becoming cold and predatory.

“I grew up on a ship colony with my brother. When we landed for supplies we had to hunt for our food, too poor to use what credits we had for nutrient blocks. They caught us one day, chopped off my brothers hand when he took the wrap. When I joined the military to provide for them they gave me survival training. Never know when a ship crashes and you have to make it until a ship comes for you.”

His respect grew as he sat in the small lodging they built together. From the craftsmanship of the things she lovingly carved he suspected she wanted to be something else and not a military lackey. The short alien from then on began using familiar nick names and hugging often. Pack instincts. He would have sneered months ago at the notion. She was a peaceful woman who laughed more often than she cried and went against every stereotype he knew. It lulled him in security with her, forgetting the predator she was.

An animal, one he never saw before but was monstrous in size and shape attached him while he gathered one day, snapping his makeshift cane and almost crushing his ribs in one swipe of its spotted paw. It’s long snout split the wrong way, vertical mouth filled with slavering teeth. Knowing he was going to die he lied limp on the forest floor and awaited the golden afterlife. He heard a great roar from behind him and felt the sweeping air of a spear over his body.

The creature backed off while his human crouched over his body, eyes wild, pupils so blown they almost dominate her eyes. Her chest heaves and fists tighten. Looking at her face he felt both of his hearts almost stop in pure fear. He wonders how he could have ever mistaken her smiling for a show of aggression. He can clearly see the artificially sharpened teeth, something he dutifully ignored before, glistening in the reflective shine of the bright red gas giant hanging in the sky.

Opening her jaw in a way he almost couldn’t comprehend he let out a strangled roar and charged the thing. With every swipe it bleed. With every indigent scream it made at her she answered in kind only angrier. It was insistent, probably not used to its food fighting back, and made as to clamp its jaws around her. Screaming for her to run did nothing. She stood there face twisted in rage as she grabbed the closing jaws and. Tore. Them. Off.

She separated the jaws until a wet cracking sound echoed but didn’t stop until she tore it completely free, fingers dripping in blood. Green for the creature and red from her own ripped palms. She tossed back her head and screamed to the sky, red planet outlining her body like a bloody halo. She looked like a god of war her people so love to worship. Rescue came weeks later from a human ship honing onto the beacon from the crash. He was roomed in the med bay while she was escorted away on the large military colony and he didn’t see her for days while he messaged his queen. When she came back she was groomed and wearing the royal blue of a generals uniform, chest glittering with the metals of valor. She grinned and stood at attention.

“We have not been formally introduced. I am general Morgan Regina of sector Terra. I was sent to ensure the first official contact with a new species went well.”

He took the offered hand which he now knows is filled with nanotechnology, turning her bones to metal and her muscles into inexhaustible strength. Even turning off her pain receptors so she will not be hindered with her own pain. Swallowing thickly he wills his face into the unfamiliar stretch of a smile and her eyes glitter at the effort. He fears her. Respects her. And will probably die fighting his people for the alliance her people offer. He is indebted, it seems, to a savage brute.
****