Cliff dwellings have existed in many different parts of the world. In many cases, basic homes could be made simply by utilizing the existing walls and roofs of caves. Rock could be tunneled into rather than having to be carved out in great quantities for use as building materials.
Mesa Verde Cliff Dwellings, Colorado, US
The Bandiagara Cliff Dwellings, Mali
The Gila Cliff Dwellings, New Mexico, US
The Uçhisar Cliff Dwellings,Turkey
Manitou Cliff Dwellings, Colorado, US
Guyaju Cave Dwellings, Yanqing District, China
The cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde (picture 1) are part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site and are considered among the best preserved and most important sites of their kind in North America. They were inhabited by Ancestral Pueblo peoples, built between 1190 and 1300 CE. The structures and villages range from a 200 chamber Cliff Palace to single room storage spaces.
The origins of China’s Guyaju cave dwellings (picture 6) are shrouded in mystery, as there are no records of the people who created them. However, they are thought to be over 1,000 years old and may have been the work of the Xiyi people, of whom little is known. The dwellings are the biggest ruins of their kind ever discovered in China and feature 170 caves with more than 350 chambers. Relics such as stone bedding, air vents and rainwater collection devices have been found, as well as caves that housed horses.
“we were in international waters i didn’t think it would count” “IT ALWAYS COUNTS CHELS”
what chels said was straight up gay. why would she mention it otherwise? she obviously didn’t kill anybody or did anything drastically illegal. we also all know how naive she can be, so of course she would think “it didn’t count" if it was something as “trivial” as having sex/relations with another person.
we can probably, PROBABLY assume that she may have cheated on garrett. with whom? probably a woman. hence the way she and rae treated the revelation. (it also of course could’ve easily been another man, but im queer as fuck and like to dream. in my eyes chels is bi af along with rae)
rae wasn’t gonna let that info go, so that shits gotta be important. something like sleeping with someone of the same gender after only showing interest in the other sex seems important between BEST friends.
idk y'all the point of this post is to say that chels and rae are bi and in love, okay? and the writers/producers are not stupid. they all know how the setup (and the chemistry) of the show is. they fucking know they are creating a gay parent/family atmosphere. and they are running as far as they can with it by disney standards.
Summary: Cursed three hundred years ago to take on ghost form and haunt his family estate, Killian Jones receives a reprieve once every hundred years to take on corporeal form in order to try and break his curse.
A renowned restorationist, Emma Swan takes on the project of bringing the three hundred year old Jones Manor back to its former glory. A manor that is reportedly haunted by the notorious Captain Killian Jones. Good thing Emma doesn’t believe in ghosts.
Rated M (for sexy times in Part 2) / Also available on ff.net and ao3 / Line breaks indicate a change of POV / scene
A/N: All thanks, flails, hugs, kisses, chocolate, ticker tape parades, baby animals, and my love to @kmomof4 and @artistic-writer. Without your enthusiasm and prompting (and art!!!), I never would have committed to actually writing this. (I know, @winterbaby89. You tried to have my back, and for that I am grateful! We both should have known better than to go up against momma…) Hope you all enjoy this Ghost/Cursed!Killian Two Shot!! Happy Halloween!
Dust filled the air as another heavy canvas was
removed from the piece of furniture it had been tasked with protecting for many
decades. Suppressing a cough, Emma Swan opened a few more windows in order to
allow some fresh air in and let the staleness of the room out.
She was well accustomed to the stagnant and
musty remnants of disuse in old homes. In fact, she made her livelihood off it.
Well, restoring it, anyway. The homes, not the mustiness and decay. That would
Emma Swan was a sought after restorationist of
historical homes and buildings. She loved history, and with the assistance of
her handy brother and sister-in-law, she’d been able to turn her love of the
past into a successful business that provided for her and her son’s present and
Her latest endeavor had brought them all the way
to a small port town in England. Misthaven boasted a proud history tied to
local lore of pirates and privateers, thanks to the grand three hundred year
old manor house that sat upon the cliffs just outside the village that was once
reportedly owned by a notorious sea captain.
Over the last several decades, the manor had
fallen into disrepair due to its vacancy. Though it was still owned, in trust,
by descendents of the original family who built the manor centuries ago, no one
had actually lived there for nearly forty years. The family and local historical
society wished to see it restored to its original splendor, hoping to draw in
some tourism dollars with tours and activities, no doubt.
The manor’s curator, for lack of a better term,
had led Emma and her team up to the attic where many of the original furnishings,
artworks, and heirlooms resided. It was as good a place as any for Emma to
begin her investigative work on the property. Research would have to be done in
order to determine the course of decisions made about the restoration. Several
remodels and renovations had occurred over the manor’s lifetime, and getting it
back to its original state (with some modifications for modern convenience -
hello electricity and running water) would take some sleuthing into
historical records and references. The more Emma could learn about the manor
and its original owners, the better.
Which made the attic’s contents a veritable gold
mine of information. Furnishings, portraits, trinkets, knick-knacks, books,
personal documents, it was like Christmas morning for Emma as she painstakingly
uncovered each piece. Her excitement and intrigue sparked with each fresh
discovery, but it was probably the large portrait she had located late in the
day that had caught her interest the most.
Her son, Henry, had just arrived with Emma’s
sister-in-law, Mary Margaret, telling her that they had picked up dinner, when
she’d pulled the last heavy canvas from the framed artwork that was at least a
foot taller than she was. Standing before her was the life sized rendering of
an incredibly handsome man, garbed in full leather and braced at the helm of a
ship. The bronze placard displayed on the ornate frame identified him as Captain
“You’ve found our local legend, I see,” chirped
the curator, a petite blonde woman with a tinkling voice and bubbly exuberance
“Legend?” Emma inquired.
Though she preferred to ground her decisions
about a project in fact, Emma knew that legends, tales, and folklore could hold
valuable pieces of information as well. The stories had to have a basis of
truth behind them somewhere, and those little nuggets could often lead her to
revelations about a property and it’s history that records never could.
“Oh, yes,” the curator answered
enthusiastically. “His story is well known around these parts. He’s part of the
reason we’re eager to have the manor restored. The Legend of Captain Killian
Jones is a big draw to the area, his family built the manor.”
“What makes his story so compelling?” Mary
“Oh, probably the fact that he’s the ghost that
haunts this place,” she quipped in reply.
south we drove the more campervans we saw. After travelling for 7 months we’d
never seen so many campervans in such a short period of time, I suppose this
was obviously the popular part of Europe. As well as an increase in motorhome
we also saw an abundance of wildlife, stalks nesting atop telephone poles,
Egrets fishing in lagoons, and gangs of gulls pattering across the beaches.
the past few days on a beautiful-yet boring-beach. There was no drama to the
landscape, just soft rolling dunes into a fantastically blue sea, and endless
sunshine. Don’t get me wrong, we loved the area and there were some cool people
around, but by now we were keen to see the interesting rock formations and
cliffs we’d seen in photos.
was the closest epic and rugged beach we set our sights on, and we weren’t disappointed.
Small secluded sandy pull-ins allowed us to park pretty much in our own private
wildcamping cliff-side location, as a lot of other motorhomes down the road had
opted to park in the town in a paved carpark.
landscape was rugged and fierce, waves crashed into small caves and coves, with a beautiful assortment of shells lined the beach. Walking along the cliffs to a
set of steep winding steps down the cliff-face onto the quiet beach, Theo was
in his element in this environment. Surprisingly few people were about which
meant we had the place to ourselves.
benefit about travelling to this area was the camper disposal point in the
town; free waste water and chemical disposal, as well as free drinking water.
The camper disposal point also had quite a few motorhomes parked nearby;
Portugal really was a campervan haven.
two nights in Porto Covo, but as the weather began to sour we chose to head a
little further south, ending up at Praia de Amado. A road wound its way along
the cliffs but a strong coastal wind had picked up and made parking up there
impossible, there’s no way we would have had a wink of sleep with the van being
pushed around and an unnecessary fear that the cliffs would collapse. Instead
we parked in the sandy car park with about 15 other campervans, no surprise really!
An injured Gannet had sat itself in the centre of the road as we approached the
car park, and wasn’t keen to move. Thankfully we had Theos phone connected to
data that day so I researched a local wildlife rescue centre which turned out to
be run by an English expat who assured me they’d have someone out to rescue the
Gannet. I wasn’t keen to have my eyes pecked out by its monstrous beak, so I
checked on it every half an hour and by the time sun set it must have been
removed as it was nowhere to be seen.