gold mining town

quick concept for a character me and my coworker are creating for a contest. It’s the Chupacabra of a 14th century russian gold mining town

Creepypasta #1135: I Believe In Goatman

Length: Long

Goatman lives. I know it. I remember, the first time I heard a story about him, I didn’t believe it. Ghosts, I believed in. Spirits, sure. But a half man, half goat creature that wandered the woods and terrorized people? This was too much, even for my fertile imagination.

My grandfather grew up in Northern Ontario, where his family worked in the mining industry. He was the first one who ever told me about Goatman. One bitterly cold winter, when he was just a boy, a huge snowstorm blew through the area.

He remembered, at dinnertime, his father talking about how, when he was making his way home after gathering some firewood in the woods, he saw in the distance the figure of a man walking through the forest, bent against the wind and snow. He had called to him, but received no answer. Everyone thought it was a wandering vagrant, or someone who had gotten lost as the storm blew up, and was searching for shelter.

That night, though, Grandpa said that his family had woken up and seen what looked like a man walking around the house, looking in the windows. Come morning, they went to check it out. Instead of fresh human boot or shoe prints in the snow, they saw cloven hoof-prints. And that’s where the story ended. His story, anyway.

My grandparents had moved a couple of hours away from that area, and I grew up living next door to them, in a gold mining town. I am an only child, and my best friend was my cousin, Tanya, who lived in the same town. We’d spend every summer in the woods around my grandparents and my house. Those woods had a magical quality to them. They felt extremely safe and wholesome, like the Hundred Acre Wood from Winnie the Pooh or something. We’d play for hours in those woods, pretending we were Celtic princesses, or pioneer women. But one day, we wandered a little too far.

This was Northern Ontario, so our entire town was surrounded by bush and rock, being part of the Canadian shield. Not far beyond the safe, happy-feeling woods behind my grandparent’s house was the lake the town had taken its name from. When I was little, it was a beautiful spot, but the mine had drained it do some exploration. A chain link fence surrounded the perimeter and our parents had always warned us not to go near there – it could be really dangerous.

Tanya was a show-off. At sixteen years old she was only one year ahead of me, but boy did she lord it over me. She was petite, with graceful curves, blonde hair, blue eyes and a flawless complexion. Boys fawned over her. I, on the other hand, was an awkward fifteen year old, with thick, long brown hair, glasses, braces and an acne problem. She was sweet, and always told me I was pretty and helped me to feel better about myself, but she made no secret that she thought she was drop dead gorgeous.

Tanya was also a lot more worldly than me. I was bookish, naive, and didn’t have experience with boys. She’d already had several boyfriends and had tried smoking and drinking – two things I refused to do. So, it didn’t surprise me when she said we should travel down to the fence that bordered the drained-out lake and flash the few guys who would be sitting in their diggers that were working there.

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anonymous asked:

*curtsies* Dear Duke, what book(s) would you recommended a less emotional more analytical person? Favourite genre is historical fiction and I do enjoy an interesting love story so don't rule them out.

*Curtsies* I might suggest reading some true crime. (Personally I’m also a bit this way and really love getting lost in the details of that kind of thing.) Vince Bugliosi’s Helter Skelter is probably the best TC I’ve read in recent years and let me just tell you, it’s got more detail than you’ll know what to do with but it’s fascinating all the way through. If you’re not so warm to the nonfiction idea that’s totally cool, and what I might suggest is James Michener. He wrote all these big long epic novels that are all about the history of a particular place and they’re definitely something to keep your brain busy. He also, incidentally, wrote one of my favorite kind of epic travelogues of all time, which is called The Drifters. If you’re looking for something rich and detailed but which still follows few enough characters that you can keep track of/get attached to them, I might start there. Another idea in the same vein would be Eleanor Catton’s The Luminaries, which is the kind of book where you have to pay attention to follow all the breadcrumbs. It’s also set against the fascinating backdrop of a New Zealand gold mining town in the 1800s and it’s SO engaging (at least, I thought so). If you like complex, intricate historical fiction that might be right up your alley.

Sterek Week // Friday: Sterek AU - The Rundown

Derek Hale is a “retrieval expert”, a bounty hunter who collects debts for a man named Deucalion. Derek wants out and he’s worked off his own debt to Deucalion and then some. However, the man offers Derek one last retrieval in exchange for a hefty some of money, enough that Derek can finally open his own restaurant. Derek accepts the offer and flies to El Dorado, Brazil. His target: Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles Stilinski is a college drop-out turned treasure hunter. He’d borrowed money from Deucalion to fund his trip to Brazil to find the legendary"El Gato do Diabo", and artifact made out of pure gold, but hasn’t been heard from in over a year. Impatient and wanting his share of the cut Stiles promised him, Deucalion sends Derek to retrieve him.

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10

Spirited Away to Jiufen.

Jiufen (Pronounced Jo-fn) is a small town northeast of Taipei, formerly a gold-mining town during Japanese occupation. It’s become a popular tourist attraction due to its bustling “old street” market and unique cliffside architecture. The market stalls, winding streets and narrow alleyways directly inspired Miyazaki’s Spirited Away. While the market itself was crowded with tourists, the many residential sidestreets were very peaceful and picturesque. It’s quite the enchanting place!

Just a few of the many photos I took on a recent trip to northern Taiwan. I’ve been really enjoying street/travel photography lately - it’s a great way to explore, study lighting, people-watch, find the little details hidden in the world, and to practice composition on the fly. I’ll be posting more photosets from the trip here on my tumblr over the next two weeks!

7

Walhalla, Australia. An old Gold mining town, kept in near original condition. (Barring the periodic brush fires which burned the town every few years in its heyday)

I found the cemetery most fascinating, graves dating back near 200 years. The slope is so steep, the ground so unstable, the deceased met their eternal rest standing upright.

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OH. MY. GAWSH.

loOK WHERE I AM. I AM AT THE STYLO PLACE. I’M ACTUALLY TheRE.

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Group outside store, Bland, New Mexico

Left to right: Ed Smith, John Henry, Billy Jerome?, unknown, unknown, Arthur Henry (owner and operator), Charlie Burrough?, John O'Connor?, and unknown.
Date: 1890 - 1900?
Negative Number 008697

Dear Photograph
I revisited Walhalla cemetery recently, where the original photo was taken around 43 years ago. Walhalla is a small gold-mining town in country Victoria Australia. There are only 16 permanent residents there now as the gold-mining is no longer viable and most people moved away when the mines closed. 
The town continues to be of historical interest and tourists still visit the town and its cemetery which has over 1300 burials, though most sites no longer have headstones. 
Returning with this pic and taking the ‘dear photograph’ shot was quite an emotional experience for me. It was like looking through a window into my past.
Jacinta