remote places in the world

2

Award winning travel photography by ©Simon Morris (aka BurnBlue)

  • Lone Wolf - Mean Plains: Eagle hunter Ardak, with his golden eagle in the Altai region of Western Mongolia in the winter. 
  • Camera: Nikon D700 - Focal length: 31mm - ISO: 400 - F stop: f/5 - Shutter speed: 1/1000

Kazakhs living in Mongoia continue to hunt with eagles today.  Their falconry custom, so-call ‘horse-riding eagle falconry’, is unique in practice only with trained Golden Eagle on horseback.  Their hunting target is almost limited to Red Fox or Corsac Fox.  In the first week of October, 70 eagle hunters gather for the annual Golden Eagle Festival of Mongolia.  They use eagles to hunt foxes and hare during the cold winter months when it is easier to see the gold colored foxes against the snow [1]

Ardyn Headcanons

Part of my ongoing Ardyn fic. I posted the first bit a WHILE back, and will be updating it soon(ish). 

  • Ardyn rarely sleeps. Being immortal, he doesn’t need to, and when he does he ALWAYS has a recurring nightmare about a liquid darkness entering and consuming him (he wakes knowing that’s what actually awaits him if he ever loses control, except it will happen from within).
  • The daemons are like a personality disorder. They manifest as impulses and voices in his head, which he can barely distinguish from his own. Over the years he’s managed to quiet them and differentiate, but it’s still a daily struggle. He tries and keeps his emotions in check to prevent them from surfacing.
  • He likes a high shelf brandy. It’s classic.
  • Ardyn has always had a bit of a sweet tooth. People are surprised to discover this; he doesn’t seem the type. Yet as a child and adolescent, the palace kitchen staff were well familiar with and supplied his penchant.
  • He hasn’t felt at home anywhere in Eos since before being exiled. He roams constantly, and knows almost every inch of the world. The only places he feels remotely at home at are the ruins scattered across Eos— the ones that no one can explain, the history long forgotten. These ruins are from before even his time, and he enjoys that there is still something he hasn’t experienced.
  • Aside from a spare change of clothes, some odd souvenirs, and his car, he doesn’t own anything.
  • He doesn’t have a cellphone, and it’s a running joke in Niflheim that the Chancellor is “old-school.” He’s impossible to get in touch with, but he always seems to be in the right place at the right time despite this, so Aldercap and the others leave him be.
  • Ardyn feels an intense loneliness if he allows himself to feel. Not only does he keep to himself, having little in common with anyone and feeling everyone to be inferior, but people are wary of him. He is used to being ignored and shunned, but it’s only made him bitter over the years. Sometimes he finds himself trying to attempt normal interaction, but it rarely goes well. People seem to sense something’s off with him, and this only makes him feel more corrupted / desperate for his end game to come to fruition.
  • Ardyn is tired. Not physically tired, but in his soul. If he isn’t occupied, it strikes him. He has seen and done just about everything over the eons, and no matter how the landscape changes due to natural or human influence, he can feel the familiarity of places in his bones. He is tired of Eos and craves release. He would never admit this, and it’s much easier to pretend that revenge against the Lucis Caelums is the sole reason behind his actions. He’s angry at the gods and Lucians for what was done to him in the past, but mostly he’s angry that he’s had to remain alive for so long— friendless, his soul corrupted, and with the daemons his only true ever-present companions.
  • After his failed execution, Ardyn was placed in the stone tomb on Angelgard by the gods. The imprisonment was three-fold: One, Angelgard is an island, and at that time, his daemonic powers were not known to him / undeveloped (so escape that way was a no-go). Two, the swords / stakes surrounding the tomb were once magically-imbued to keep him from escaping. And three, the narrow window is aligned with the opening in the crag behind the tomb, allowing sunlight to directly enter the tomb and weaken Ardyn due to the daemons in his body (over the years he grew used to the light, but for a long, long time, it pained him, and only darkness brought relief— which is why he grew to resent the light). We don’t hear much of Ardyn through history after his own time period because he was imprisoned. It wasn’t until rather recently that the magic was lost and he could escape. This would also explain how his speech is still fairly archaic.
  • When Ardyn first escaped his prison and “re-introduced” himself to modern society, the idea of having a paid job was abhorrent. He stole and shoplifted to get everything he needed (he did this for years). In his mind, everything was stolen from him, and his own needs outweigh anyone else’s.
  • Ardyn keeps the full extent of his power hidden from everyone. Why? For one, because the more he uses them, the more the daemons have control. Two, because having his powers known would complicate his place in the Empire, and thus his plans. He could easily achieve his goals by being 100% evil and killing everyone until Noct makes his covenants and enters the Crystal, but he isn’t SURE that Noct is chosen until he actually gets pulled into the Crystal.
  • Ardyn does (or did) feel some small shred of pity for Noctis because he’s essentially just a kid who gets screwed by fate as much as Ardyn did, but his resentment over Noct being chosen and able to Ascend (as well as Noct’s bloodline) vastly overwhelms his pity.
  • He gets his clothes custom tailored because he doesn’t like the current fashion trends (and doesn’t feel he needs to adhere to them); because it makes him feel important; and because it reminds him of a time when he had this privilege.
  • His humor and  charm took a while to redevelop (post-imprisonment). At first he was highly self-deprecating, but no one understood his plight or jokes. It wasn’t until he began to try to seem friendly and good-natured that people began to warm up to him and he realized this made it easier to get what he wanted. However, in recent years he’s allowed his contempt to poison the facade and now his “charm” just seems creepy.
Autistic headcanons

A couple of characters that I headcanon as autistic:

1) Groot: A nonverbal autistic, Groot can struggle with self-care and appropriate social behaviour. Groot is very empathetic and loves to spend time with his friends, but can get distracted by his need for oral sensory stimulation.

2) Drax: A very literal autistic who struggles with interpersonal relations and figurative speech, Drax’s bluntness often comes off as abrasive. Considered neurotypical for his people, Drax never had functional issues within his own society, a fact which causes him much frustration.

3) Superman/Clark Kent: A hypersensitive, hyperlexic autistic, Superman experiences regular sensory-overload and navigates interpersonal interactions with the aid of complex scripts. He has trouble with eye-contact unless in his Superman persona and often comes off as shy and/or overly formal. He needs a lot of time alone, and regularly zips off to remote places to get some peace. Luckily, flying is the best stim in the world.

4) Superboy/Conner Kent (Young Justice): A hypersensitive autistic like his dad, Superboy is much more likely to experience meltdowns/shutdowns. He is often literal and needs help navigating confusing social experiences and emotions. His tendency to info-dump was magnified by the way in which he was taught, but luckily his friends don’t mind. He prefers hiding in small places, since he can’t fly (gddamnit), and watching the “snow” on the TV.    

5) Hulk: An abused, hypersensitive, mostly nonverbal autistic, Hulk experiences almost constant meltdowns where he becomes physically violent in an attempt to control the chaos he experiences. With a poorly developed theory of mind, Hulk usually has trouble thinking about things from other people’s perspectives and has a lot of trouble interacting with people. A fan of destructive stims, Hulk is regularly assaulted with ableist prejudices, and is often thought of as being less-than-human. Fortunately, the Avengers are good friends and always have something for Hulk to Smash.

8
Hᴇɴʀʏ ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴛᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜ Eʟɪᴢᴀʙᴇᴛʜ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴇs.

The pain in his lungs finally seemed to lighten, the dark room growing brighter about him, and the nauseating and suffocating smell of incense subsiding. Sounds disappeared, replaced by the gentle surf of Brittany that he had known so well in his youth. He could feel the salt water spray, the sand under his bare feet, damp from an afternoon storm. In the distance, there were rain clouds, pouring over the horizon and consuming the ships in the distance. The sky was a light gray, chilly from the shifting winds, but crisp and fresh.
He felt young again, his body lithe and strong, weightless within his form. His hair no longer tangled and matted, blew across his eyes, the fine auburn strands catching what little light managed to peer through the clouds.
It was beautiful and there was nothing to disturb him. The beach empty and remote, his favorite place in the world, just as he had always remembered it. Even in his dreams, it seemed to be such. He darted forward, charging into the surf, allowing it to swirl and churn around him. His simple breeches and shirt dampened, but not freezing from the water. He smiled wider, finally giving way completely to the peace and tranquility of his surroundings. To his isolation and meditation.
But he was not alone. A figure appeared over the hills, walking slowly towards him. A woman. She was dressed as loosely as he was. A white shift over her supple curves and white skin. Her blonde hair free about her waist, curled as he had always loved it. In an instant, he could smell her perfume, rich and tender in the air, sweetening the scent of the ocean. How long had it been since his senses had been alleviated by her presence? The innocent creature who had always seemed other worldly. An angel in his court and a rose in his garden.
He moved towards her, hesitant and shy after so long. Her smile brightened as her hand reached for his, no words needed to convey the joy that had lit a flame within her eyes. The feel of her skin again, the softness of her body. It was as natural as the sea joining the shore.
He lowered his head to gaze at her, as young and beautiful as when he had first beheld her after Bosworth. Her palm cupped his cheek, caressing him gently. “My beloved one,” she whispered to him, their brows pressed against the other, simply basking in the moment. Sniffles and sobs breaking the silence, with only the ocean as an audience.
He held her face in his hands, gazing at her reverently. “I am sorry,” Henry told her. “I am sorry I have taken so long. I am here now. Together.”
“Together,” she replied, their lips meeting for a loving and meaningful kiss. “Always and forever.” (x)

anonymous asked:

Headcanons Dva, Mei, Zarya with a shapeshifter S/o(?)

D.Va

  • Loves it when they transform into something cute. Like a kitten, or a baby owl, or a bunny (her favorite)!
    • Never gets tired of all their cutesy forms and loves to cuddle and play with them
  • When she’s still new to the concept, she’ll want to see all kinds of transformations
    • “Do a chicken! Now a dog! An alligator! Ooh, can you do a phoenix?!”
  • Likes the bunny and kitten form best. Then her s/o can snooze next to her all fluffy and warm as she plays video games
  • Just imagine her s/o shapeshifting into a cat then doing that thing cats do when you’re trying to play a PC game, like sitting in front of the monitor and stepping on the keys

Mei

  • She’d be so fascinated when she first finds out. Mei’s a scientist first, so she’ll be very inquisitive and may ask for DNA samples
  • Would love it if her s/o could transform into endangered species. It would just melt her heart to see an animal she only saw in books
  • Her favorite forms would be anything strong for mountaineering and adventuring! Mei travels all over the world to very remote places for her research, so she likes when her s/o turns into a big, oversized wolf that she can ride up a mountain!
  • Likes to cuddle her s/o when they’re big fluffy animals

Zarya

  • “Come at me with the biggest form you’ve got! Don’t hold back!”
  • Would like to see her s/o’s strength in battle as they mow through enemies in the biggest forms they have
  • But would like it even more if they would help her train in those forms
    • She’d wrestle them as a bear, a dragon, a horse, a lion
    • But be careful because sometimes she requests an animal she just can’t beat and ends up getting hurt for it
  • Does adds for the Russian Defense Forces with her s/o. They turn into a Siberian bear and pose with her!
I’m such a proud Jennifer Lawrence fan

Originally posted by drunkbroadway

Meeting a wild wolf pack - behind the scenes of BBC documentary “Snow Wolf Family and Me”

23 December 2014 - A new BBC film, Snow Wolf Family and Me, explores the lives and habits of Arctic wolves, revealing the family secrets of one of our most feared predators.

Ellesmere Island is one of the most remote and beautiful places on Earth. This is the only place in the world where wolves are naive to man and have no fear. It allowed wildlife cameraman Gordon Buchanan and scientists an unparalleled opportunity to form bonds with a wild wolf family, revealing the remarkable story of their relationships and behaviour.

Here series producer Ted Oakes talks about some of the highlights and challenges of being accepted by a wild wolf pack.

Watch a slideshow of behind the scene pictures here

Snow Wolf Family and Me will be broadcast on 29th and 30th December 2014 at 21:00 on BBC Two.

Music by Jean-Marc Petsas. Photofilm produced by Dualtagh Herr.

Source

hc; kihyun

head·ca·non /noun/

-to note a particular belief which has not been used in the universe of whatever program or story they follow, but seems to make sense to that particular individual

kihyun headcanons-

- doesn’t matter what time of day, he’ll eat chicken

- prefers granite counter tops to white marble. he likes the webbed look

- that guy who takes pictures of his food before he eats it

- when it’s cold and windy, he’ll pull his jacket strings so the hood pretty much covers his face

- leather shoes are his shit

- has this weird thing about cleaning his phone screen every weekend

- thinks a girl’s personality is the most attractive thing about her

- loves stuff that tastes like cherries

- definitely that guy who hangs up mistletoe fuckin everywhere which just leads to making out on the couch because you seriously put them on EVERY door way?

- always down to fight if you’re breakin out the just dance

- enjoys reading with you

- enjoys reading in general. one of his favorite sounds is the crisp sound when you flip a page

- smells like flowers and chai tea, really calming and refreshing

- asks for an opinion on everything he does

- the type of guy to always lose the damn keys/remote/phone

- has a collection of stamps from places he’s been around the world

- his favorite scent is playdough

- has a million pictures of you in his phone and nothing else

- likes geodes a lot!!

- tastes like coffee and caramel

Moral Polarization: The Good, The Bad, And The Abuser

If you have been on tumblr even a short amount of time in the SJW blog-o-sphere you will have noticed by now the obsession with call-out culture – either the perpetration of callout posts, which can vary from crimes such as ‘i don’t get along with this person’ to brutal sexual assault – or the outright complete criticism of this culture, and the damage that is brought about from the community’s expectation of treating every callout post with the same level of importance, no matter its contents.

When involved in the culture that aggressively mandates the silent boosting of callout posts, no matter how many degrees of separation you have from who the post is about, it has uniquely roped you into what can be considered a form of crowd-sourced slandering.

As touched on in a previous post, there are many loaded words in the language of SJW cultic communities. Many of these carry the sole purpose of devaluing, silencing, and othering any given individual whom you or your peers disagree with.

And one of these words, which had already carried a very heavy meaning before its mass appropriation but the SJW community, is “Abuser.”

Anyone can be an abuser in this community. Disagree with you on a very heavy political topic and yelled at you about it? Abusive. Someone treat you like shit for the duration of your friendship because you didn’t actually get along even though you were both pretending you did? Extra Abusive. Someone give you flashback after flashback for refusing to trigger warn their posts? Literally Hitler.

And with many things in the SJW community, there is no gray area for the this broad term – abuser – and all are treated with equal hate, disgust, and othering. Once someone has been deemed an “abuser” by another in their community, and the callout post has cycled, no matter the content, it is aggressively mandated to cut off all contact with the criminal.

One of our mods, in 2014, had a callout post created about them by someone they considered a close friend. Their crime? Disagreeing on if an ironic novelty gay-furry-pride nazi armband with a rainbow pawprint that one of their friends made was anti semetic or not. The post was erected with very little text, their name clearly bolded in the title of the post so those could easily knew who was being exhumed without having to go through the effort of reading the post and deciding for themselves. It including several screenshots taken out of context on twitter of their argument, and a claim that this person had caused these people a lot of harm… by not getting along with them.

Even though the post detailed a situation which should have never entered the public eye because it was not describing a public menace like the tone of the post phrased it to be, and anyone who took the time to read and consider the context of the post would see it as a petty interpersonal drama, it began to circulate.

The post circulated quickly, and overnight, the subject of the post had many ‘friends’ drop completely out of their life. Their friends had been encouraged to immediately drop contact. Someone, who had already dropped them and grew to dislike the supposed moral criminal, added to the post on how they were definitely abusive because their url had a reclaimed slur in it that personally offended them, despite their own moral logic allowing slur reclaiming.

Our mod left tumblr, terrified of who in their immediate vicinity might spread the slander further in an attempt to produce good karma within their cultic community. They still live in paranoid terror, even though the other author of the callout post had personally apologized to them, disengaged with the person who proposed the callout, and reconnected with them, including others who had also been manipulated into contributing.

But their public apology to our moderator was left unnoticed. Mostly due to the fact the people who saw it had already forgotten about the callout, having either not read it before boosted it silently from pressure from their peers, or it had completely left their attention span.

But the damage that had been done was deeply rooted and long-lasting. They were branded an “Abuser” by the tumblr collective. All for making the mistake of disagreeing on an ironic novelty armband.

In a previous post, we posted a very important video. A video which describes the social and psychological effect of moral-panic and loaded words of call-out culture. It describes the public spectacle that was destroying a women’s entire life and mental health because of a single, misinterpreted joke that made a jab at her own ethnicity. Her life now lays in ruins, depression overtaking her health – but to the rest of the world, she is yesterday’s meme.

The word “Abuser” was not mentioned, but it is the same functional outcome – Any one you disagree with, do not get along with, can be labeled to the one of the two sides of the polarized scale: Good or Bad.

You’re good if you follow the moral ideology of your peers. You’re good if you do not side with a labeled “abuser”, thus making yourself an abuse-apologist, no matter your reasoning.

You’re bad if you disagree or do not get along with anyone who has any iota of power within the community. You’re bad since there is no other way to describe you. If you are not perfect in the eyes of your community, you are not flawed, you are not human, you are not ‘normal’ – you are bad. Flatly bad.

This polarization is encouraged so heavily in SJW communities, since without it, many of the moral laws begin to fall apart. If someone can not be easily categorized in an “in-group” or an “out-group”, then a lot of the moral distinctions stop making any form of logical sense, since many of them rely on moral abstraction as opposed to the functional, tangible reality that they claim to explain.

This abstraction of moral polarization is uniquely able to exist in environments that allow this disconnect and abstraction from the real world. Tumblr,  Jonestown, any community of cultic religious or moral beliefs that specifically places themselves in remote parts of the world to cut their members off from anything that would shatter their fragile ecosystem of beliefs of “good” and “bad.”

It is much easier for one to view those whom they dislike as a polarized concept of “evil”. And since it is encouraged to such an extent in the SJW community, can be easily used as a tool to damage anyone you do not like. 

Because, how could one feel at peace if they come to terms with the person that they caused irreparable psychological damage to wasn’t evil after all, just a complex, imperfect being with many unique life experiences just like themselves?

They can’t, because that would make them bad. And they certainly aren’t bad, no no. Because they’re not the other. 

Until they make that one fateful, imperfect mistake.

anonymous asked:

Hey, I love reading your essays and I completely agree with your love of Quentyn. I'm curious about your feelings on house Hightower. Do you think they have any influence on the Citadel and the Faith of the Seven? And if so, do you think that influence has any impact on Westeros society as a whole? Also, I'd LOVE to hear more about the eldritch apocalypse you've mentioned, and how that might relate to the Hightowers.

Hiya, thanks!

The Hightowers are still nigh-unquestionably the most powerful lesser House in Westeros, but the fact that their current lord has spent the last decade with his head quite literally in the clouds hints at a fair amount of decay incurred in the years since the family’s dizzying heights and catastrophic lows in the Dance of the Dragons. Whatever influence House Hightower wielded over the Faith was greatly diminished by the transference of symbolic and practical authority from Oldtown’s Starry Sept to the capital’s Great Sept of Baelor. As for the maesters, they were driven to kill off the remaining dragons by the horrific consequences of the dragon-war House Hightower instigated, so I imagine relations between the Citadel and the Hightowers have been somewhat frosty ever since.

What will befall the present-day Hightowers? They rule over Oldtown, the second largest municipality in Westeros and a thriving center of trade, yet they rely on the Redwynes to shelter city and coast from the Ironborn. This protection will vanish when Euron shatters Lord Paxter’s fleet early on in The Winds of Winter, possibly by magical means. If the rumors about Lord Leyton (and his daughter Malora) are close to true, the Hightowers are looking to the old powers to serve as their city’s savior, rather than its doom.

They’re going to be rather dramatically disappointed, and this is where we get into my beloved Eldritch Apocalypse. Come, sweetlings, plunge into the abyss of insanity with me! (Watch for tentacles.)

In the first three books, it was clear that the metaphysical threat came from the North. But simmering under the surface of A Feast for Crows and The World of Ice and Fire is a stunning reorientation of this driving tension. There is now a second and pointedly southern locus of cosmic horror, equally likely as the Wall to serve as a portal which, after standing closed for millennia, finally gives way and lets the nightmares in.

Quoth Adventure Time: “Before there was time, before there was anything, there was nothing. And before there was nothing…there were monsters.”

Even the Asshai'i do not claim to know who built their city; they will say only that a city has stood here since the world began and will stand here until it ends. Few places in the known world are as remote as Asshai, and fewer are as forbidding. Travelers tell us that the city is built entirely of black stone: halls, hovels, temples, palaces, streets, walls, bazaars, all. Some say as well that the stone of Asshai has a greasy, unpleasant feel to it, that it seems to drink the light, dimming tapers and torches and hearth fires alike. The nights are very black in Asshai, all agree, and even the brightest days of summer are somehow grey and gloomy.

Maesters and other scholars alike have puzzled over the greatest of the enigmas of Sothoryos, the ancient city of Yeen. A ruin older than time, built of oily black stone, in massive blocks so heavy that it would require a dozen elephants to move them, Yeen has remained a desolation for many thousands of years, yet the jungle that surrounds it on every side has scarce touched it. (“A city so evil that even the jungle will not enter,” Nymeria is supposed to have said when she laid eyes on it, if the tales are true). Every attempt to rebuild or resettle Yeen has ended in horror.

On the Isle of Toads can be found an ancient idol, a greasy black stone crudely carved into the semblance of a gigantic toad of malignant aspect, some forty feet high. The people of this isle are believed by some to be descended from those who carved the Toad Stone, for there is an unpleasant fishlike aspect to their faces, and many have webbed hands and feet. If so, they are the sole surviving remnant of this forgotten race.

When the daughter of the Opal Emperor succeeded him as the Amethyst Empress, her envious younger brother cast her down and slew her, proclaiming himself the Bloodstone Emperor and beginning a reign of terror. He practiced dark arts, torture, and necromancy, enslaved his people, took a tiger-woman for his bride, feasted on human flesh, and cast down the true gods to worship a black stone that had fallen from the sky.

The throne of the Greyjoys, carved into the shape of a kraken from an oily black stone, was said to have been found by the First Men when they first came to Old Wyk.

Even more enigmatic to scholars and historians is the great square fortress of black stone that dominates that isle. For most of recorded history, this monumental edifice has served as the foundation and lowest level of the Hightower, yet we know for a certainty that it predates the upper levels of the tower by thousands of years.

An even more fanciful possibility was put forth a century ago by Maester Theron. Born a bastard on the Iron Islands, Theron noted a certain likeness between the black stone of the ancient fortress and that of the Seastone Chair, the high seat of House Greyjoy of Pyke, whose origins are similarly ancient and mysterious. Theron’s rather inchoate manuscript Strange Stone postulates that both fortress and seat might be the work of a queer, misshapen race of half men sired by creatures of the salt seas upon human women. These Deep Ones, as he names them, are the seed from which our legends of merlings have grown, he argues, whilst their terrible fathers are the truth behind the Drowned God of the ironborn.

Aeron Greyjoy is desperate to unseat Euron from the Seastone Chair. But given that it was the Damphair’s own kingsmoot that legitimized Euron’s rule, that (as Victarion points out) Aeron himself placed the driftwood crown on Euron’s head, I don’t think the populist crusade Aeron launched in Feast will succeed. Instead, he will be forced to beg the Drowned God to directly intervene. And the priest’s god will answer his prayers…but said deity will turn out to be a Lovecraftian abomination, promptly unleashing hell on “these holy islands” before turning his baleful gaze on Oldtown.

And yet, and yet, C’thulhu is just the beginning. He could very well find the city already in ruins and have to turn and shrug exaggeratedly at the camera while a sad trombone plays.

Why? Because there is a Faceless Man in the city, and he has a skeleton key. Because he’s probably after “the fragmentary, anonymous, blood-soaked tome sometimes called Blood and Fire and sometimes The Death of Dragons, the only surviving copy of which was supposedly hidden away in a locked vault beneath the Citadel.” Because there is a one-man-apocalypse pirate king in the neighborhood, and he’s going to get a dragon. Because the maesters have some awful secrets, and I shudder to think what they will do to protect them. Because Sam is unknowingly carrying around the horn that could bring down the Wall. Because, as mentioned, the Hightowers are messing with magic they will inevitably prove unable to control. Because the glass candles are burning, and as with Saruman’s palantir, “we do not know who else may be watching.”

Any one of these could produce a city-wide cataclysm. But all of them together? That’s a recipe for a feverish overripe horror crescendo that has me so excited I can barely breathe. Now, I could speculate as to the specifics of how these elements will interact, but to borrow from boiledleather’s must-read meditation on the Deep Ones and cosmic horror in general:

The world … about which Maester Yandel writes is in a very important way just a series of trapdoors that drop you directly into nightmare after nightmare. The drop is the point, not the floor that connects them.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t theorize—shit, what else am I doing right now? I’m saying that whatever theory you can hash out and write down is likely beside the point. The point is how it makes you feel. Do you feel that something of tremendous, awesome importance has happened that you can never fully understand? That there are forces at work in this world beyond even those of the Others and the Children, beyond R'hllor and the Seven and the Old Gods, beyond the Stranger? That you are, in some fundamental and inescapable way, at sea?

The sea is the point. Not the land you could perhaps construct amid the sea, holding it at bay for however long—the sea. The sea. THE SEA.

Magic has been leaking back into this world in quick, isolated bursts; a shadowbaby here, an increased wildfire output there. In Oldtown, come The Winds of Winter, it’s all going to flood in at once. There’s a meta component to this as well: GRRM’s been largely holding back his peerless horror chops but for isolated exceptions like the Red Wedding and the wight attack at the Fist of the First Men, and so the Sam and Aeron chapters in Winds will constitute the full unveiling. (Part of me thinks that’s why he left those POVs out of Dance: he wanted to take his time, do it right, and unleash the horror whole.)

Don’t get me wrong, I’m eagerly anticipatin’ the storylines set in Winterfell and King’s Landing and the Dothraki Sea as well, but nothing compares to the Second Doom about to ravage southwestern Westeros. It is going to sear my soul and break my brain and leave me gibbering in the proverbial corner, and I simply cannot wait.

8

Dagobah was a planet in the Dagobah system, and one of the purest places in the galaxy within the Force. A remote world of swamps and forests, it served as a refuge for Jedi Grand Master Yoda during his exile, after the destruction of the Jedi Order. It was here that Luke Skywalker received advanced training in the ways of the Force under Yoda and would later witness his death and transformation into the Force.

#22 The Travelogue (Harry Styles)

OMG! It’s 22 already!! 

Okay so, I’m so excited about this. It’s different so, please tell me how you think it is and then, I’ll continue. So, please let me know as I am writing for you guys! 

Also, I touch 1200 followers which is so unbelievable! Thank you for all your support and for reading my work! 

Love you. xx. Okay, Read.

This seems ridiculous. Maybe even is but, I can’t get out now. I entered the restaurant and gave my name.

“Yes, Mr. Styles. Your number is 22. Please follow me,” Why was I doing this again? There were a lot of ways to go for an adventure. I could do anything.

“It’ll be fun, you fucker! At least go for it. You can always back out!” Niall hit my head.

“This is ridiculous. Like why would anybody do this?” I questioned again.

“It does! It worked for me! Now, I have a beer companion without any doubt every Saturday for the next two months!” He cheered and I just shook my head frowning at him.

“Your wish was to have a beer companion?” I raised my eyebrow.

“Well, a stranger who is my beer companion, and I found two! They have some capacity!” He laughed. “Okay, look. It’s just a game of luck. Fulfill Your Wish.” He put up the pamphlet in front of my eyes. “You can either choose from the wishes or drop in a wish and wait for a response. It’s simple. It happens every Saturday and you just have to give your name and register. It’s really secure so no creeps, either.”

“What do I have to do?” I asked.

“That’s the spirit. Okay listen, it’s easy. You can either choose from the wishes in the basket and see if you want to be a part in fulfilling that wish or you can drop a chit and wait for somebody to find you.”

“I don’t have any wish,” I leaned against my chair.

“Go and pick up a chit, then!” He hit my head, again.

I went and sat on the bar stool and ordered myself a drink. I had to just go there and pick up a chit. I picked up the rule sheet kept next to my glass.

#Only pick up the wish you want to be a part of fulfilling.

#Only wishes meant to be completed with someone else should be thrown in.

#Scan the chit in the scanner to find out the number of your wisher to see if they are still in the restaurant. If they are not there, you may contact the number (if given) or communicate with the head for more details.

It went on and on but, I didn’t have the patience to read it. What would I really want to do? I don’t know. I really didn’t have a particular wish. I just went through a break up so I wanted to be single for a while. I had my film starting in about 4 months. I didn’t have a wish.

I took another sip and then, walked up to the big container kept under the spotlight. This shit was taken seriously. Does it even work?

I closed my eyes and picked up a chit.

I want someone to just go on long drives with me.

Long drives in London? No. I dropped the chit and picked up another one.

Sex. I want sex. I know we aren’t supposed to mention about sex or look for people here but, I just want to have regular sex with someone – no commitments.

This was a bad idea. All these are really useless. Last one, okay.

Okay so, I read this book as a kid where these two people, strangers completely go on a trip together. And they have the time of their life. I want to go on a vacation and I want to do what these two did. So, if you like the idea of maybe, going backpacking with a stranger around the world or to just some beautiful remote places, come?

I took a deep breath. Do I want to go for a vacation? Something about this chit made me feel that the person writing this genuine. I won’t mind a vacation but, backpacking? With my track record….why not? I can go for a holiday. I nodded to myself and took the chit. Scanning it in the scanner, I waited for the result.

Your wisher is number 20 who is still in the restaurant sitting on stool number 12 near the bar.

Okay, near the bar? Alright. I turned around and noticed a girl sitting on the opposite side of where I was sitting. I picked up my glass and walked towards her. She had her head down with her black hair falling down in curls in front of her. They were really long, till her lower back maybe. She was playing with the twister in her drink, wearing a crème dress. I took a deep breath in, thinking again if I wanted this. I really did. I wasn’t a double guesser. I wanted this.

“Are you number 20?” I asked in a low voice.

She got startled and looked at me. Her coffee colored eyes wide in surprise. They were so big and beautiful. That was the first thing I noticed. Her nose was a longish and thin with real bitable lips covered in red polish. “You’re Harry Styles,” She whispered out.

“Yes, yes I am,” I smirked and sat down next to her.

“You picked up my chit?” She asked.

“Hmm,” I said placing it on the table.

“Oh.” She looked at the chit in suspicion. “You did read it, right?” She asked, frowning.

“I did, yes,” I nodded, again.

“Okay, okay,” She snapped out, “Hi, I’m sorry, I was just surprised that somebody actually agreed and that somebody is Harry Styles is not one of the scenarios I prepared for…” She took a deep breath and giggled nervously.

“it’s okay, relax…” I laughed, lightly, “What were the scenarios that you planned for?” I asked, taking a sip of my drink.

“Umm, creepsters, uhh..those people who are like always arguing from the start, umm, drunkards?” She counted.

“Well, I don’t know about the arguing but, we’re fine on the other things,” I laughed and she shook her head, laughing.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. This just took me back, umm,” She put her hand forward, “Hi, I’m Layla.”

“Layla,” I took her hand.

“My mother was a big fan of Eric Clapton,” She chuckled.

“I’m Harry, Layla,” I smiled. “Another drink?” I asked, looking at her empty glass.

“Uhh no, thank you. I’ve had two, already,” She declined. “So, umm, the wish,” She crossed her fingers together.

“It’s very interesting,” I nodded.

“So, you’ll do it?” She asked, her eyes wide again.

“We weren’t supposed the pick it up if we didn’t plan to…” I said, with my eyes as wide as hers.

She titled her head, knowing that I was being sarcastic, and then, laughed. “Well, that’s great then…”

“Where do you want to go?” I asked, smiling back.

“Umm okay so, in the book these two people go to like all the big cities in the world – New York, London, Paris, Sydney, New Delhi, Tokyo….that’s it,” She exhaled. “But since, I’m sure you’ve gone to all these places…”

“I haven’t been to New Delhi…”

“You should. It’s beautiful,” She smiled. “But, since, you’ve done the others, I had a list…”

“You know about me?” I asked.

“Yeah…” She nodded, taking out a paper from her wallet. “Yes, almost everything, I’m a big fan.”

“I couldn’t tell,” I smiled.

“I’ll freak out and ask for a picture, later. Don’t worry,” she smirked and then, laughed throwing her head back, making me laugh too. “So since, I can only go for about 20 days? I thought of Corsica?” She looked into my eyes with expectation and I nodded.

“Okay so Corsica, Peloponnese in Greece, Aswan in Egypt and two more, I left for the partner….” She smiled, shyly.

“Why all these places?” I asked.

“Well, they all have amazing, amazing history,” She gushed and I knew, she was a history fan, “Beautiful places with amazing night life,” She explained pointing towards me. I laughed thinking she had already judged me as a party fan, “and, I want to disappear for a while, these places do that…”

“I like it. Especially, the history part…” I smirked and she gave me a big smile.

“I’m glad! This is going really easy…”

“Yeah, we’ll have to discuss the costing and the ticket expenses and the stay, passports etc…” I went on.

“I know, yeah yeah okay. Although, you can afford it- yeah?” She asked, nervously.

“I can yes,” I smiled. “I’m just worried about the backpacking part…” I explained.

“I can’t afford the big hotels,” She said.

“We’ll figure out something,” I smiled.

 —

PART 2

Please tell me how you like it! Please. I’m so excited for this. I’ll update faster if I get good responses!

Also, The Fixing Procedure will be up soon! 

Masterlist

-theStylesproject

Copyright ©theStylesproject 2016: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS WORK CONTAINS MATERIAL PROTECTED UNDER INTERNATIONAL AND FEDERAL COPYRIGHT LAWS AND TREATIES. NO PART OF THIS WORK MAYBE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM theStylesproject.

Modern AU: where Patsy is a well known author and she needs to research for her next book, where she meets adrenaline junkie Delia Busby who helps her with her research by taking her camping in remote places around the world, and of course being in a small tent in the middle of nowhere is really good for the love life….. (if anyone wants to write it your welcome too✌️)

“If it wants to kill you, I’m there.” This is how George Kourounis described his job to us.

6 Survival Tips from a Professional Adventurer

#5. Getting to the Dangerous Place Is Sometimes More Dangerous Than the Actual Dangerous Place

Everyone expects certain fabled and remote corners of the world to be dangerous, but you sort of skip over the journeys there like they aren’t an issue. Take Nyiragongo crater, for instance. It’s on the border of Congo and Rwanda. Congo has had two generations of civil war and deals with refugees from the Rwandan genocides. To get to the crater, you need armed guards with machine guns with you at all times. I’ve been to a lot of places, many of them literally and constantly on fire, and probably the scariest place I’ve ever been was eastern Congo. And we’re not even talking about the flaming death pools yet. 

Read More

Story of a seasick marine biologist

I’m a marine biologist that gets ridiculously seasick. I’ve gotten seasick since I was a kid but I’ve always loved the ocean so much that I pursued a career as a marine biologist. When people see how seasick I get, they laugh at me and ask me why the heck did I choose to become a marine biologist? But my passion for conservation keeps me going. Now let’s skip back to the beginning of how I developed this passion…

I was born and raised in Vancouver to a pretty traditional Chinese family. My parents encouraged global consciousness by raising me in a multicultural community. Much to my parents’ chagrin, I did not turn out to be a very typical Chinese Born Canadian but rather, quite a banana (yellow on the outside, white on the inside). Despite their objections to my crazy hippie ways, my parents still encouraged me to pursue my dreams and to follow my passion…they just didn’t expect this to take me to some of the most remote places in the world!

Exploring different cultures inspired my world travels; I learned 5 languages and visited every continent and 30 countries by the age of 25. Observing first-hand the environmentally harmful acts dictated by various cultural traditions (e.g., shark fin consumption) has made me aware of human impacts and the roles we may play in the protection and sustainable use of marine ecosystems. My upbringing with this awareness was the seed that grew into my dedication to conserving marine ecosystems. Marine biology embodies my main passions: conservation, working with animals, and being in nature.

These passions persevered over my horrible seasickness and I’ve been working as a marine biologist for 15 years around the world, including BC, Alaska, Antarctica, Hawaii and New Zealand. I mainly study declining populations of marine animals, trying to figure out what is causing their decline, and how to minimize those impacts. I’ve worked for governments, universities, non-profits and industry. Now, I’m making an active shift from solving problems to making solutions.

I’m absolutely passionate about conservation. But that doesn’t mean that I’m perfect. I eat meat, I drive, and I’ve flown all around the world. But it’s not about being perfect, it’s about being aware of what we can do to make a difference and choosing to make those changes. And it’s this desire to make a difference and passion for conservation that have inspired me to start engaging with the public to raise awareness on environmental issues and how we can all be part of the solution. After all, every person can make a difference, and together, we can do so much more.

The Most Epic Selfie Video in the World: 360 Selfies from Around the World

Around the world in 360 degrees. For 600 days, Chacón traveled 125,946 miles through 36 countries on five motorcycles, taking short selfie clips along the way on his GoPro camera.

The ultimate selfie compilation documented like never before in a 360° Degree rotation in every major site and exotic place in over 36+ countries by Alex Chacon.

Alex Chacon is on a Modern Motorcycle Diaries driving his motorcycle over 200,000+ Km crossing 75+ borders around the world to the most remote and undiscovered places on earth on this charitable expedition.

Think you can top this epic selfie? 

Watch the video here

Keep reading