cliff carving

anonymous asked:

Pls could you write solangelo getting quite heated for the first time and then breaking away when it gets too intense and not knowing what just happened haha

Nico isn’t quite sure what happened.

He’s flushed face and wide eyed, and Will isn’t much better. His curls are dishevelled and his own cheeks are pink and he’s breathing a little heavier than usual. 

Nico feels a sudden, extremely inappropriate desire to ask him if he needs an inhaler. He suppresses the thought, but his blush probably darkens. He blinks, looks up at Will, who gives him a shy smile, and he’s just a bit dazed, really.

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anonymous asked:

Do you think Jon will be made king in the books or is that a show only thing? Love your meta about Jon's name, btw!

First of all, thank you!

To answer your question, Mormont’s raven certainly seems to think so:

“King,” the bird said again.

“I think he means for you to have a crown, my lord.”

“The realm has three kings already, and that’s two too many for my liking.”  Mormont stroked the raven under the beak with a finger, but all the while his eyes never left Jon Snow. - 
ACOK, Jon I  

“Free,” the raven muttered. “Corn. King.”  - ADWD, Jon VIII

He rose and dressed in darkness, as Mormont’s raven muttered across the room. “Corn,” the bird said, and, “King,” and, “Snow, Jon Snow, Jon Snow.” That was queer. The bird had never said his full name before, as best Jon could recall. - ADWD, Jon XII

Gilly seems convinced, too:

“They say the king gives justice and protects the weak.” She started to climb off the rock, awkwardly, but the ice had made it slippery and her foot went out from under her. Jon caught her before she could fall, and helped her safely down. - ACOK, Jon III

When Gilly entered, she went at once to her knees. Jon came around the table and drew her to her feet. - ADWD, Jon II

And considering his subsequent actions, doubtless Alys is in agreement as well:

“Marriages and inheritance are matters for the king, my lady.” - ADWD, Jon IX

All told,  “kings” are mentioned 279 times in Jon’s chapters, and “crown” an additional 29. Naturally, most of these are in the context of discussions about other kings but it’s telling all the same, especially compared to say, Jaime, who has only 162 combined mentions, or Bran who has 74, despite both having as much reason as Jon to be discussing or thinking about kings and kingship (albeit slightly less interaction with kings).  I would argue on a Doylist level, this is a deliberate effort to associate Jon with royalty. The more heavy-handed examples aside, even Jon’s descriptions of his world are filled with crown imagery:

The way up was steep and stony, the summit crowned by a chest-high wall of tumbled rocks. - ACOK, Jon IV

The sky was cloudless, the jagged mountains rising black on black until the very top, where their cold crowns of snow and ice shone palely in the moonlight - ACOK, Jon, VI

The peaked roof was crowned with a huge set of antlers from one of the giant elks that had once roamed freely throughout the Seven Kingdoms…  - ASOS, Jon I

Before them, the ice rose sheer from out of the trees like some immense cliff, crowned by wind-carved battlements that loomed at least eight hundred feet high…  - ASOS, Jon IV

Ahead he glimpsed a pale white trunk that could only be a weirwood, crowned with a head of dark red leaves  - ADWD, Jon VII

Jon is the only POV to consistently use this way of describing his environment, so it’s less likely to be a predilection of the author; this is GRRM, these choices are rarely a coincidence.

A plethora of meta has been written about this already, but imagery aside I think there is a pretty strong argument in the narrative for Jon ruling in some capacity before the series’ close. For one thing Robb’s will is bound to make a reappearance, though the legality of that will admittedly be complicated by many factors (the fact the Bran and Rickon are now known to be alive, the North backing Stannis, who would not recognize Robb’s ability to legitimize bastards, R+L=J, should anyone learn the truth of that…) Moreover we have this:

The girl who drowned the slaver cities in blood rather than leave strangers to their chains can scarcely abandon her own brother’s son in his hour of peril. And when she reaches Westeros, and meets you for the first time, you will meet as equals, man and woman, not queen and supplicant. How can she help but love you then, I ask you?  - ADWD, Tyrion VI

Young Griff is attempting to usurp Jon’s narrative, but we the readers know Jon is Dany’s brother’s son, and it’s Jon and the North in need of rescuing. This seems like an instance where Tyrion is accidentally prophesying; the HOTU visions introduced Dany to her third husband, her blue rose, her one to love. And she will not meet him as queen to supplicant. They will meet as equals - as queen and king

World Building June: People and Races 1

The Elven Forests
In the mystical forests of the north, dozens of bewildering botany has been created by the gods. This once ice cold tundra has been transformed into a moderate forest teeming with magical plant and animal life. their houses constructed over years of growth of warm-wood tree saplings intertwined provides the most shelter and bio-luminescent plants of all sorts and sizes light their breath taking cities. however, their nature expertise does not end on land. broad cliff sides stand against the northern coast past their boarders and the grand mountains limit the number of ports to the south protecting them from most seaward attacks. with shallow boats that glide over the natural coral reefs no ship of non-elven make will ever have a chance of landing on their mystic shores.

The Dwarven Mountains
In the northern tundra even the air is charged with magic. the once sturdy fortresses and marches of the militaristic hill dwarves became almost obsolete when the natural rock barricades began to rise above the earth. Rarely, nearly entire settlements rose with the rocks into the sky cutting off several towns and often creating abandoned ruins untouched for centuries. The dwarves attempted to fix the land ravaged by such strong magical properties by several traditional dwarven means such as alchemy or trying to reduce the magical energies in the air that resided there but no option they choose worked. they instead opted to craft amazingly huge metal chains and fix them to the floating islands to at the very least make things more permanent. In the end, they developed airships of all sizes to reach the isolated places.

In the mountains lie the stout dragon-born, mighty warriors, oracles or mystics that rarely allow outsiders to enter. Building their dwellings out of the sides of cliffs their houses are carved of stone, while steep and narrow stairways act as the main mode of transportation in their dotted cities. within the cities, families of dragonborn often stay in close proximity and view their bonds as absolute. Such loyalty however often causes feuds between opposing families can often lead to bloodshed. when the need arises, they make use of the arena, a wide stone pillar where warriors often fight to the death, either from blade or a mortal fall after being pushed off.

Finally, from the swamps resides the cunning lizard-folk, hunters and man eaters they make use of ritual magics and ambush tactics to keep others out of their territory. Homes in the tops of the swamp trees neatly hidden away out of sight from travelers who dare cross their land. Throughout the ground, hidden ambush sites can be found almost everywhere, allowing them to attack from anywhere or evade any pursuit via water or hidden base. Their cities have no housings, rather they travel through the swamp to congregate and trade often. gold and bartering is both favored between the lizardfolk, who are often territorial sometimes allow trusted outsiders to trade in their cities, but often shun outsiders who often face their wrath. The most dangerous quality of the lizardfolk is their use of voodoo, shaman and tribal magics. passed down through family member, no ritual or spell is exactly the same between different families.

I'm on a BOAT

BLSummer Bingo: Yachts and Sunscreen! Rated T, mostly rhack but Tim is here and a bit of rhackothy happened- just spreading the love!


“This is a no pants allowed zone, Rhysie!” Jack spread his arms out wide as he walked backwards up the ramp from the dock to his yacht. It was, of course, bright yellow with a white stripe around the sides. There were no sails or rigging involved in the sleek design- only a motor engine. “Get some shorts! Speedo! Or nothin’ at all!”

Rhys grinned. “Think I’ll just get some swim trunks, okay?” He climbed aboard the yacht, dubbed ‘The VIP Deck’. Obviously named by Jack. He kicked his shoes off and was about to make his way down to the sleeping quarters to change when another Jack walked on board. “Uh?”

“Hey good lookin’!” yelled Jack. He leaned on the deck railing and put on shiny reflective sunglasses. “Rhys, meet Tim. I’m paying him to be sober and drive the boat if you or I get too busy being wasted or having hot juicy sex.”

“Uhhhhhh, hi?” Rhys held out his hand and Tim groggily shook it. “No offense, but- I kinda thought I’d be alone with Jack.”

Tim scoffed but gave Rhys a genuine, warm smile before going back to sounding dead inside. “Chillax, kid. I’ve been to Jack’s parties, I’ve seen some things. Nothin’ you do will bother me. Especially considering how handsome you are yourself!”

Rhys wished he knew if that was Tim being in character, genuine, or both. He hoped both.

Jack grinned and winked at Tim. “You got the attitude down today, huh? What exactly did you do all night, eh Timmy? Got a lucky girl? Guy? Other being?”

“The lucky girl I spent all night on was Google, learning how to drive this boat.” Tim yawned and climbed in the cabin to look at the controls. “We probably won’t die!”

Rhys didn’t have time to doubt him. Jack put his arm around Rhys and led him down a few steps to the cabin and bedroom. “We’re gonna have the BEST vacation, Rhysie! Drinks, sunshine, fresh air, you name it.”

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The Columbia River Gorge is a place of ungraspable beauty, and of cataclysmic geology. Glacial outburst megafloods (the Missoula Floods) carved the cliffs and caused landslides (Rooster Rock), sculpting the preexisting rock. The Gorge’s steep walls are made largely of Columbia River Basalt, a series of unfathomable floods of basalt that erupted and carpeted the Pacific Northwest, forming the Columbia Plateau. These taken on Tuesday the 13th, just before snow blanketed the area, but just after dusting the peaks, from Crowne Point’s Vista House.

Ancient History

The actual history of the Monster Hunter world is sparse to say the least and most of what we have comes from stuff that likely isn’t even canon.  That said, for the time being, it is all we have to go on, so go on it we shall!  Just take it all with a grain of salt.  Ya know…  a boulder-sized grain.

Almost all of what we know comes from a single piece of concept art published in Monster Hunter Illustrations vol. 1 (which you all should go purchase, along with vol. 2 so we can show Capcom that us Westerners actually want more of these tasty lore-filled Monster Hunter books, and maybe they’ll give them to us.)

The Equal Dragon Weapon

The caption reads: 

“The Equal Dragon Weapon was discovered in some ruins, an ancient storage facility.  It is possibly the only remaining weapon of war from the age of the Great Dragon War.  This man-made dragon was pieced together using parts harvested from over thirty mature dragons.

However artificial, the Equal Dragon Weapon boasts a might comparable to any living dragon.  Its physical strength, endurance, and firepower are said to have posed the most relevant threat to the dragons during the ancient war.

The technology behind crafting an Equal Dragon Weapon reached is pinnacle during the Great Dragon Wars, but that technology, along with the great dragon hunters of the day (ancestors of the modern day monster hunters), were not destined to last.  The humans engaged the dragons in a war of epic scale, with both sides fighting valiantly and viciously until they were simultaneously brought to the brink of extinction.”

Basically put, at the time, humanity (and wyverians?) were more scientifically advanced than they currently are in-game, and, as now, the majority of their inventions required monster bits.  Unlike now, they were not so ecologically friendly about how they got said bits, and the dragons, far more numerous and possibly more intelligent than in modern times, got just a bit fed up with being driven to extinction for the sake of human technology.  The result was the Great Dragon War, which was so costly and horrible that both sides were nearly driven extinct.  Having learned their lesson, the Hunter’s Guild was founded to regulate hunting, preventing the over-exploitation of any single species and allowing the humanoid races and monsters to live… well, if not exactly in peace, then at least in balance.  (This, by the way, is the reason behind why some quests in the MH games cycle, especially the Elder Dragon quests.  The idea being that Elder Dragons are rare and slow-breeding and need time to repopulate, lest their numbers become too low to be sustained.)

There is a lot of speculation on the internet about this period in MH’s history.  Some people seem to think that “more technologically advanced” means computers and space travel and genetic engineering and what have you. I disagree with this conclusion very strongly.  Not only is it simply not supported in-game (there are no ruined computer labs or rocket launch pads or rusting rebar in the ruins we see), it’s not supported by the Equal Dragon Weapon itself, either.  Look at it.  That is not a genetically-modified organism.  That is not a robot.  That’s Frankenstein’s Monster.

Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein in 1818, and she didn’t write it in a vacuum.  The Western world at the time was infatuated with electricity, especially with galvanism, discovered by Luigi Galvani in 1780.  Galvanism was essentially the observation that muscles contract when exposed to an electric current, even muscles belonging to a dead corpse.  It was thus believed that, if given the right conditions and just the right electrical stimulation, a dead creature could be shocked back to life.  This electricity was thought to be literally the “spark of life”.  Galvani’s nephew, Giovanni Aldini, often acted as half-scholar and half-showman, showing off the results of his research to crowded audiences throughout Europe.  Aldini used everything from frog legs to the corpses of executed criminals to display galvanism’s power and spread the idea of it far and wide.

With the Equal Dragon Weapon’s inspiration in mind then, I believe that, at it’s peak, the MH World’s level of technology was equivalent to Georgian-Victorian Era England.  So no computers, aside from possibly punch-card-powered calculating machines.  No genetic engineering.  Cars are unlikely (and certainly no weaponized rockets or space craft), but combustion engines and industrialization could be a thing and electricity definitely existed in some form, even if it wasn’t yet widely available.  People tend to forget, when dealing with fiction, that there are more levels of technology than just “Medieval” and “Star Trek”.

And that’s really about all we have to go on in regards to the world’s ancient history.  Even if the Great Dragon War isn’t actually canon, we know with some certainty that something BAD happened in the past in the MH world.  Because there are ruins everywhere.  EVERYWHERE.  In almost every single hunting area in the entire series you can find traces of past civilization, from the carved cliffs of the Deserted Isle, to the Dune’s caves, and the Ancestral Steppe’s crumbling cinnabar walls.  Even in remote, supposedly unexplored areas like the Everwood.  And almost all of them at the same level of decay, which means they were all abandoned around the same time.  What could have happened to cause so many disparate places to be abandoned all at once?

I also quickly wanted to address another idea I’ve seen floating around in the intertubes.  The idea that Monster Hunters are half-wyverian, mainly as an explanation for game mechanics, like not taking fall damage and… ya know… not instantly dying after being stepped on by a dragon weighing several metric tons.  As you can probably guess, I don’t agree with this either.  One piece of evidence offered was the notion that hunters have slightly pointed ears…

That is not a pointed ear.  That is a low-polygon ear. :P

On top of that, it’s very questionable whether humans and wyverians would be able to have children anyway.  Wyverians are not even closely related to humans, they’re descended from wyverns.  They ARE wyverns, technically, just like humans ARE apes.  Expecting a wyverian and a human to be able to have offspring is a bit like expecting a human and an ostrich to be able to.  Not happening. :P  (Not like that’s ever stopped fantasy/sci-fi stories before, hello Mr. Spock, but MH does tend to be decently science-y for a fantasy world.)

Game mechanics are game mechanics, and it’s a mistake to think that there’s always a good in-universe reason for why they exist.  They simply aren’t always going to, because this is a video game, and in a video game the gameplay comes before EVERYTHING else, including story and lore.

And that’s it for the history of the MH world!  If there’s a particular topic you’d like to see in a future post, feel free to drop me a note.  Thanks for reading, and may your hunts always be ecologically friendly!

And then we arrived in Lucerne, which had to be my favorite stop during the entire trip.

The Lion lies in his lair in the perpendicular face of a low cliff — for he is carved from the living rock of the cliff. His size is colossal, his attitude is noble. His head is bowed, the broken spear is sticking in his shoulder, his protecting paw rests upon the lilies of France. Vines hang down the cliff and wave in the wind, and a clear stream trickles from above and empties into a pond at the base, and in the smooth surface of the pond the lion is mirrored, among the water-lilies.

Around about are green trees and grass. The place is a sheltered, reposeful woodland nook, remote from noise and stir and confusion — and all this is fitting, for lions do die in such places, and not on granite pedestals in public squares fenced with fancy iron railings. The Lion of Lucerne would be impressive anywhere, but nowhere so impressive as where he is.

— Mark Twain, A Tramp Abroad, 1880

love ; child

When I was fifteen, I clasped my hands
over my stomach and dreamed about
my child—
no, I’ve never been pregnant,
like I’ve never been in love,
like I’ve never been at peace,
but those don’t always
go hand in hand,
and most nights I still dream of holding a daughter
and kissing the demons from her cheeks.

When I was young,
no one told me, You are safe,
so I crawled from corner to corner
of my tiny black room,
tasting ghosts.
When I was young,
an old man held me the morning he died,
so I wore his skin on my skin
and his breath on my neck,
and no one told me, You are not cursed.

I took fifteen slow years
to crawl out of the hole
I was not buried in;
I arrived on dry land with dirt caked
beneath my fingernails,
carrying the ghost of my childhood
between my shoulder blades.
I was not home.
Home had long crumbled like a shack
on a cliff,
so I carved my own heaven into the rock,
tied a rope to the sun
and raised it myself.

And now I still dream,
dream of my daughter
and of the nightmares
that will flow off her back like water
but will never stick,
dream of the ghosts that will haunt the corners
like bats, but never fly—
because I will always keep the lights on.

Every morning, when she opens her eyes,
I will kiss her temples and whisper,
You are blessed,
and she will taste the sunlight,
and she will be at peace.

I want to point out that Madu hasn’t always been as kind as he acts now.

In the later years of his time as a nomad, he did start thinking of more… creative ways to carry out his self-assigned duty. Not out of cruelty, don’t misunderstand him, but to make his presence greater. To make those thinking to commit atrocities fear him. Omens and stories spread about him would do well to help, but without foundation they were far less effective than they could have been. He gave them what they needed to flourish.

Bodies left where they would be seen. Eyes carved into cliff faces. Stark red cloth billowing from rock stacks.

And from these more tales would start. From whispers to stories to fairy tales, they’d evolve as they were passed between generations, getting to be more and more visceral than the last. And he cultivated it. Telling his own stories and weaving more and more of what was said into his dealings, propagating them.

He’s still very much a pleasant person to speak to. He just also happens to be a terrifying symbol on top of all that.

alyyks  asked:

Congrats! And how about Rex, Ahsoka, Fives and food "That's not how you eat that." (SFW ;) )

Culture clash? I am so here for culture clash, Fives-style. And a little shout out to TCW’s novelization, because why not. ^^

Thank you for the prompt!

Dinner — Ficlet #65

Characters: Captain Rex, ARC Trooper Fives, Ahsoka Tano

Era: Post-RotS, #FivesLives because of course he does

Word Count: 1,096

Fives had seen some weird foods in his fifteen years of life, but this—this took the uj cake.

“That’s not—” Ahsoka broke off laughing. “That’s not how you eat that.”

Fives stared at bit of meat dangling between two twisted tines. It dripped a pungent, eye-smarting orange sauce and its little tentacles—or what he hoped were just tentacles—looped all over and through the contraption. “Then how in all hells do you eat this stuff?”

“Fives,” Rex growled.

Fives leaned forward to glare down the table; Rex sat at Ahsoka’s other side, sullen in the stiff uniform they’d both been given, adamantly not eating. 

“Hey,” Fives said, “if we’re going to be here for the next week, might as well sample local culture.”  Really, Rex had taken this whole guard duty shtick to new levels; it was like being back in the 501st, right before quarterly inspections. “Relax already.”

“He has a point, Rex,” Ahsoka said. 

She at least showed some pity and plucked the two tines out of Fives’ hand. Little circlets of silver and copper clinked along her entire arm as she readjusted her grip.

“Look around,” Ahsoka went on. “This is the northern capital, Industrial Sector. Up here, everyone looks the other way.” She tilted her montrals to the side and her headdress—a gauzy, draping, floor-length thing of deep crimson looped with watery lines of silver—fluttered like a bird for a few seconds. “Too many ties to the Guilds.”

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drive yourself into a corner, and carve a cliff to the wall; jump / and again, till you can taste the salt mixed with cement on your tongue. rub it to the roof of your mouth, and let it settle- remember, and everything out your mouth from now, needs to taste of this.

write, because its all you know; take a pen to your legs, and open wide for it. let it hurt. take it like a girl. move the pen to your lips, and suck till you’re coated in blue / now walk around in shame; spilling your guts on porches of abandoned houses. write, because that’s what you need, but know, it doesn’t mean anything. 

cover your mirrors to sleep at night; your body is the boy who threw you in the sand in first grade. your body is the trauma you don’t want to relive anymore. your body is the clock you need to stop. your body is the girl who killed you; be afraid / be careful, the mirror is coming for you.

there’s no love like this; there’s so much hardness in your belly, to let him breathe- set him free, before the ocean tastes muddy, and you can’t eat flowers for dinner. stop, before your mouth tastes dirty, and he stops wanting to kiss it. leave before he does; its a smaller surgery- your heart always had a hole in it.

take all your dreams, and kill them; you aren’t made for greatness. there’s nothing more to say here.


Twelve Apostles - Great Ocean Road, Australia

The collection of limestone stacks known as the Twelve Apostles are one of the highlight attractions along the Great Ocean Road. Over 20 million years ago these stacks were attached to the mainland, before wind and waves eroded the cliffs, carving them into caves, then into arches, before ending up as columns. 

The Twelve Apostles are a part of the Port Campbell national park.Other destinations along this coastline include Loch Ard Gorge, The Gibson Steps, The Grotto and the London Arch.

Blood and Fire

Part 8/8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Epilogue

Word Count: 5,011

Rating: T

Summary: How long is too long? Dipper Pines, after leaving Gravity Falls five years ago to sort out his own issues, comes back to find it not at all how he left it.

Notes: The epilogue will be posted in five minutes pleas be patient and thank you for sticking with this story until the very end!


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sagittarius: meteoroid to meteor to meteorite. stolen fire from the heavens, molten and then hard. 

the sagittarian mutability is to be both at once. the centaur both human and animal, civilized and wild, chiron both immortal and flesh. the archer is also necessarily dual, the backwards draw of a bow before the arrow’s forward flight.

capricorn: emerging from the ooze, growing legs, standing upright, scaling cliffs, cutting stone, carving names. shores salted, mineral memory of the tides.

a cardinal sign initiates the changing of seasons, to be cardinal is to transform and to be transformative. the sea-goat capricorn is not simply both fish and mammal, it is the sea-goat becoming legged, becoming cloven, becoming goat. capricorn is the fable of evolution. but it is also multiple-bodied and multiply elemental, carrying within itself traces of the before, vestigial parts, salt from the sea.


Gorge de la Nesque is a giant lesson in physical geography in the Provence area of France. The entire area being relatively soft limestone, means that the river Nesque has had a chance, over the past million plus years, to carve a very deep, serpentine canyon through what was once a fairly flat landscape. Limestone and water have also combined to produce karst topography, the area is dotted with caves and underground waterways which show signs of habitation back to the Neanderthals. The area is now protected as part of the Mount Ventoux protected biosphere.

The scale of the canyon can’t be adequately rendered in photographs, Rocher du Cire, the prominent reddish cliff face in the first few photos is around 300 metres or 900 feet high, while most of the rest of it is half to two thirds that depth.