stone basin

8

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - Chapter Thirty: The Pensieve

A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Harry did not recognize. The silvery light was coming from the basin’s contents, which were like nothing Harry had ever seen before. He could not tell whether the substance was liquid or gas. It was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly; the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then, like clouds, separated and swirled smoothly. It looked like light made liquid — or like wind made solid — Harry couldn’t make up his mind.

The Trickle Chamber

** Thank you to @superwholockmtg for pointing out that tiles 5 and 6 of the top row are switched around in the photo! **

Deep underground, our intrepid adventurers explore a network of caverns carved through bedrock by a long forgotten civilisation.
Upon entering one chamber, they see a large stone grid on the floor, roughly twenty feet by ten in size. There are two doors leading into this room: the one they entered through, and another leading out (sealed by a perfectly smooth stone slab).

Upon one square of the grid is a short stone pillar, one foot high. Affixed to the top of this is a shallow, carved stone basin, filled with an ethereal and intangible liquid which glows faintly in the darkness of the cavern. The basin has a hole in one side, and the liquid is trickling out, vanishing as it falls. The source is not depleted.
An adjacent square bears a similar (but empty) basin at ground level, with an inlet on one side which points in the opposite direction to the outlet of the raised basin. Neither basin can be lifted or rotated.

The other thirty squares of the grid are covered with stone tiles. Each of these has a strangely shaped carving: shallow channels which crisscross each tile.

If a character attempts to catch the mysterious liquid in their hands, it feels incredibly heavy but vanishes almost instantly on contact. It is immune to magical interaction.

Inspection of the tiles reveals that they are mounted on an ingenious gear system carved from marble. Each tile can be rotated through 360 degrees, given that all other tiles are currently aligned. They are quite heavy and require a strength score of 12 to move one. Each character can turn one tile per turn as an action.
As soon as a character rotates any of the tiles, a stone door falls into place, blocking the way back out. It is impenetrable and resistant to magic.

From this moment onwards, a swarm of 1d4 carnivorous bats enters the chamber every 24 seconds (4 turns), through a small hole in the lofty stone ceiling.

Once a circuit of channels linking the raised basin to the lower one is completed, the glowing liquid flows along the path, draining from one bowl to the other. When the second bowl is filled, the weight of the magical liquid activates a hidden mechanism, raising the door which leads deeper into the caverns.

Kiss Me Not -Part 20-

Find Part One Here!

tags: drarry, hogwarts eighth year, soulmates au


Harry took about three sentences worth of notes during both his classes, none of which he remembered writing down. He dumped everything haphazardly back into his bag, still trying to shove it all inside in a single crumpled mess when he felt a hand grab him by the arm and begin towing him down the hallway.

“H-Hermione?” Harry said to the back of the fluffy brown hair.

She glanced back at him, her grip never loosening, “Hurry up.”

“Shouldn’t you have been in class?” Harry asked, trying to keep up and keep everything in his bag at the same time.

“Runes,” She said shortly, “I finished early and asked to be excused. Was Malfoy in Charms with you?”

Harry shook his head and added since she couldn’t see, “No, he wasn’t-”

“He didn’t come to Runes either.” She stopped in front of the gargoyle heading up to the Headmistress office, quickly murmuring the password and pulling Harry up the stairs as soon as it had moved.

“What are we-?” Harry pulled back.

Hermione tightened her grip, “Come on, We don’t have a lot of spare time.”

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, “Does McGonagall know we’re coming up here?”

“Of course, I asked for permission to use the school’s pensive and she said I could during lunch,” Hermione said. She cut a straight line through the Headmistress’ office to the cabinet in the back containing the school’s pensive.

Harry pulled free from Hermione’s loosened grip, “Why?” he asked uneasily.

“What happened with Malfoy- It’s been bothering me. There’s too much that doesn’t make sense.” Hermione said opening the cabinet and exposing the heavy stone basin, “I’d like to see it for myself.” She took in his expression and softened, “You don’t have to show me anything you don’t want to. Just the confusing part.”

Harry frown faintly.

“I want to help,” Hermione said.

Harry looked down at his feet. He nodded after a moment, “It might help if I see it again too.”

Hermione stepped to the side so Harry could stand in front of the pensive.

He took a deep breath, pressing his wand to his temple and recalling everything after the snitch with as much detail as he could muster. A long silver strand came away with his wand and pooled in the bottom of the stone bowl like liquid mercury.

Hermione pressed close to his shoulder, “You’re sure?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said faintly and leaned forward into the memory. Hermione came only a second behind.

Harry watched it play out all over again, and then again- it all happened so fast- before he couldn’t stand it anymore and pulled himself out, feeling as hollow and empty as the when it had first happened. He dropped himself in one of McGonagall’s chair, closing his eyes and pressing his thumbs into his temples where a dull ache promised a future headache.

Hermione’s feet shuffled against the carpet as she slowly raised her head, blinking rapidly. She plucked the memory out with the tip of her wand and walked over to Harry. He dropped his hands, tilting his head and feeling more than seeing when the memory came back to him, fresh and sharp once more.

“I want to see the party,” Hermione said.

“Wha-?” Harry looked up at her, “All of it? We don’t have time.”

She rolled her eyes, “Just the part with Malfoy in it.”

Harry slumped back into the chair, putting his wand to his temple, “Yeah, alright,” he said tiredly, pulling the memory from his mind and holding his wand out.

Hermione shook her head at him, carefully taking Harry’s wand and putting the memory into the pensive. She tossed his wand back to him, “We’ll need at least twenty minutes to eat lunch, cast a tempus and pull me out by then, would you?”

Harry waved at her halfheartedly, casting the tempus after she had already gone into the memory. He slumped further down into the chair to stare up at it and watch the minutes slowly tick by.

True to her word, Hermione stayed in the memory until twenty till and Harry took her by the shoulder, tugging her backwards until her eyes focused.

“Lunch,” Harry said, taking the memory back out of the pensive. “Figure it out?” he asked.

“Mmm,” Hermione murmured, her expression distant like it always was when she was trying to figure out a particularly tricky puzzle.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Harry muttered, grabbing his bag off the chair and heading downstairs first to pick through whatever was left of the lunchtime offerings.


Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~Part 9 ~Part 10 ~ Part 11~ Part 12 ~ Part 13 ~ Part 14 ~ Part 15 ~ Part 16  ~ Part 17 ~ Part 18 ~ Part 19 ~ Part 20 (you are here!) ~ Part 21 ~

♡Thank you’s below the cut♡

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Mayan History (Part 50): Calakmul

Calakmul was a major Classic Period city, deep in the jungle in Mexico’s Campeche state.  It is 35km from the Guatemalan border, and was one of the largest & most powerful Mayan lowland cities.

Its original name was Ox Te’ Tuun (”Three Stones”).

The Petén Basin is a geographical region of Central America, mostly in northern Guatemala, but also including part of south-east Mexico.  Calakmul was a major power in the northern Petén Basin.

There is a large seasonal swamp to the west, and Calakmul is on a rise about 35m above it.  The swamp, which is about 34x8km, was an important water source during the rainy season.  The soil around the edges of the swamp was fertile, so this was another benefit.

During the Preclassic & Classic Periods, settlement was concentrated around the edge of the swamp.  During the Classic Period, buildings were also built on high ground, and also on small islands in the swamp, where flint nodules were worked.

Calakmul was the seat of the Snake Kingdom, which reigned during most of the Classic Period.  Their emblem glyph was the snake-head sign, and it has been found distributed extensively in the area.  It can be read as “Kaan”. At times, it ruled over places 150km away.

Calakmul’s emblem glyph.

During the Classic Period, it had a major rivalry with Tikal, and the two superpowers struggled against each other politically and in war.

At its height in the Late Classic Period, it covered over 70 square km, and had a population of about 50,000.  Calakmul was the capital of a large regional state, which covered about 13,000 square km.

During the Terminal Classic, its population declined sharply, and its rural population ended up only 10% of what it had been.

There are 6,750 ancient structures at Calakmul.  The largest is Structure 2, which is one of the largest Mayan pyramids, at over 45m tall.  There are four tombs in it.  Calakmul has 117 stelae, the most of any centre in that region.

Structure 2.

The central monumental architecture covers an area of about 2 square km; the whole site is about 20 square km (mostly covered with dense residential structures).

Calakmul has many murals depicting market scenes, with glyphs describing the actions occurring in them.  The most prominent figure in these murals is Lady Nine Stone, who appears in many of them.

Calakmul was an actual urban city, not just an elite centre surrounded by commoner residences.

Ball-court.

Sometimes Rain Falls

A BTS Fanfiction

Type: AU/Alternative Universe

Summary: Sometimes a normal life is a good one to lead; its nice…its easy…
But sometimes, normal isn’t the way that things were meant to be. And when you’re chosen as a possible candidate for one of the kingdom’s 7 princes, life isn’t as nice and easy as you always presumed it to be…especially when you catch the eye of more than one of them…

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Chapter 12

She looked peaceful.

Her dress floated around her as though caressing her limbs with the lightest of touches, her pale cheeks almost seeming to make her glow and the way her hair curled in loops and waves around her face perfectly framed the cherubic expression mimicking calm.

But it’s the way she stares blankly up at the stars that tells you she was anything but at peace.

A quiet sobbing interrupts you as you stare at the Princess floating in the fountain, the husky, deeper coos of despair calling to you from the grey, blue and black tones of the dream, and forcing you to quietly walk around the stone basin, frowning when you catch sight of the back of someone curled in on themselves behind the fountain, the mop of hair all too familiar to you.

‘Taehyung?’

Calling his name has him lifting his head to look cluelessly up at you, his unfocused gaze slowly zeroing in on you until he seems to realize it was indeed you stood before him.

‘Y/N?’

‘Tae, what happened?’ you ask quietly, hurrying over and dropping to your knees beside him, reaching your hand out immediately to pull him towards you and cradling him against your chest as he continues to cry.

‘I-I couldn’t stop him…I couldn’t-I tried to save her-‘ he cries, his voice breaking repeatedly as he sniffles, attempting to get himself under control, and you continue to hold him tightly to you, widening your eyes as you understand what he’s saying, lifting your head quickly to scan the area around you immediately in search of Namjoon.

‘Tae, we should go. If he’s still here-‘

‘I wont let him hurt you, Y/N.’ he cuts you off quickly, a steely resolve entering his eye as he looks up at you, appearing so determined despite the tear tracks on his cheeks, that for a moment you’re taken aback…

…but that’s before you hear the sound of gravel crunching under foot, and you look over to the opposite side of the fountain-

-and you see Namjoon’s blazing purple gaze staring right back at you.

‘I wont let him hurt you, Y/N…’

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Watch Out Below (10)

*So after losing chapters of this story, I finally returned to it and rewrote what I had. Hopefully you all enjoy and I’ll be able to finally finish this series. Thanks all of you for your patience.*

Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9


Running had never been your strength and the last few days had only reminded you of that fact. With a pack of orcs in close pursuit, there had barely been a moment to walk, let alone to sit down, and your lungs were permanently burning from the excess. Thus it was that as you came in sight of the lone wooden home it seemed a wondrous haven from those at your heels. The wargs were only part of your problem now as a humongous bear had appeared and Gandalf ushered the Company towards the towering oaken gates.

You crashed into Ori’s back as you clawed at the wooden door which would not budge. Your exhaustion had stripped what was left of your nerves and all you could think to do was pathetically join the struggle to flee the enemies closing in behind you. The sound of heavy wood against iron groaned and the doors suddenly fell inward, the dwarves streamed through frantically as you found yourself bowled over in the crush and once more upon the ground, barely rolling clear of the boots of the others.

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archiveofourown.org
Hiraeth
R/S Games 2017 - Day 16 - Team Remus
By Organization for Transformative Works

Word Count: 5000
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Characters: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, First War with Voldemort, Violence
Summary: Hiraeth, noun. Welsh. A feeling of yearning to return to a place that may never have existed. An earnest desire.
During the first rise of Voldemort, Remus gets into the spying game. No one told him it would be quite this difficult to lie for a living.
Prompt: #13 - “A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image.” - Joan Didion

Excerpt:

“That safehouse,” he begins after he has delivered his report into Dumbledore’s pensieve.

“Best you don’t know too much about the safehouses,” Dumbledore says, straightening up from the stone basin with a grimace.

“I know, sir. It’s just…the moment I got there, it felt right, somehow. As if I were returning to somewhere I knew very well.”

Dumbledore nods, slowly. “It’s a perfectly ordinary farmhouse; it isn’t part of our world, dear boy. A deeper magic, perhaps.” He clasps Remus on the shoulder, steers him to the door. “Away with you, get some rest. And thank you.”

Remus smiles up at him, slips out of his office and away, undisturbed by students and ghosts.

Come vote on this fic for the R/S Games!

day two - moon/colony

part one

Yellow Diamond ruled at the touch of a button. The hive of activity that was her office, sunken deep into the sandblasted bedrock of the colony Kroag IV, was in full force, muted streams of conversation parting around the circle of focused silence in which Yellow worked. Only her Pearl was allowed to disrupt her when she was in the mood to turn every inch and ounce of her formidable concentration on her work to better the pre-existing systems of Homeworld, an innovative frenzy which her gems regarded with absolute pride.

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I know this burning is my penance. 
I know you will never forgive me.
I know that stars do not often change their position in the sky.
I know I will try to anyway.

A cup scrapes the bottom of a stone basin.
A throat blisters from the touch of a
potion
acid
blood
whatever-
A body dies on an island, a battered soul escaping into the air. 

We were all scared.
(Except the ones who were excited)
We were all snapping off the arrows still in our wounds.
I refused to bleed again for him.
Too many have bled for him already.

Would you like to know what I saw, Sirius, as I died? 
What visions erupted in front of me?
What memories lay themselves before me, in sickening, rotting life?

I saw blood on our father’s ring, shining and red.
You, on our polished marble tiles.
Me, standing by, idle, as you paid for transgressions in flesh wounds.
I never said a word.
And you said so many.

I saw the path laid out for me by a hat and useless silver
The right one
The pure
I never knew that sweetness of our name could corrupt.
Could you blame me?
Black hides so many stains.

I saw something like a snake
A figure nothing like a man.
I saw the bodies I had created with youthful foolishness.
I saw the ashes of the damage.
I saw what a tattoo could do to the world.
(It wasn’t my first time seeing the consequences of what I had done, but it was the first time I had tasted them, a knife  twist, a final hurrah of my sins-)

I knew I was damned when I couldn’t remember
the warmth of your hands
from when we were children.

I couldn’t remember I had been good
once.

All I remembered?
A locket.
A house elf.

—  You couldn’t guide me home. 
Regulus Black. 
(A.V.P)
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Boulders, Waddell Creek by zh3nya
Via Flickr:

2

🌛Paper treatments and my Grimoire🌜

I already went over gem elixirs in my paints, but I wanted to touch base on a few other ways to put more of yourself into your Grimoire. So this post will be about hand ground inks.

This is an ink making kit a friend got me for my birthday. I’ve used it many times for general calligraphy but have also used it to decorated pages with designs and treat the pages themselves. You fill the stone basin with water and grind the color pigment sticks into the water to create a light or dark ink.

From the water you use to the color of ink you make, there are endless ways to customize your ink for whatever need you have. The direction in which you swirl the ink stick can imbue banishing or attracting energies. You can write sigils on the stone basin that will carry into the ink. The list of things you can do goes on and on.

Do you treat or stain the pages of your Grimoire? 💜

a call I can trust

When Loki is called upon to help his brother after a quest gone awry, he gloatingly agrees. But he fails to take into account the true nature of the realm to which he wanders, and it leaves them both in desperate states.

complete - 10k. pre-Thor comfort and confessions. warnings for violence and injuries.


It was unusual for Sif to approach him in the library, let alone so sombrely, let alone without Thor somewhere nearby. Stranger still was it to see her between the bookshelves, weapons stowed, hands tucked demurely to her sides. Yet she marched now toward Loki with the Warriors in tow, the men behind her matching the pursed look upon her pinched face. The clank of their armour silenced as they gathered around him in the cramped space.

Loki kept his head down, awareness forcibly buried in the book before him. Sif cleared her throat to elicit his attention. He narrowly shifted his gaze.

They faced Loki like chastened children, helms off and heads bowed low. Loki would have taken a moment to preen at the sight had he not wondered why his brother was not with them.

“What have you done now,” Loki asked dully, as if the question had not gnawed at him for hours already this day. He knew the group of them had gone off-world without him, had known it the entire time he’d sulked around the palace alone, cursing his brother and missing him in equal measures.

Sif chewed her lip, uncharacteristically taciturn. “We need your help. It’s Thor.”

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Woodfall and the Southern Swamp

“This swamp you are in has lost its guardian deity. But it was destined to fade anyway … and that destiny is not solely limited to this swamp.”  

– The Soaring One, Majora’s Mask

Echoing the mechanistic precision of Time within Termina, the four regions of this land are arranged with navigational certainty in each primary direction, with Clock Town as their center. The plot of this game unfolds first in the south, across a brief expanse of Termina Field covered in long grass and dead trees. Each cardinal exit of Clock Town is an architectural appreciation to the people that live in that region, and as the Southern Swamp is home to the Deku Civilization, the southern gate reflects the architectural heritage of that people. Every fundamental element of Deku design is present in this gate, and in the posts that mark the route to the Southern Swamp. The base material of Deku construction appears to be a light-brown wood, which is felled and shaped into simple boards and posts; from there, they are lashed together, painted, and covered with thatch. Much of the wood is left uncolored, but the colorful geometric designs that grace the upper and lower portions of each board or post are done in stark green, red, and white. With those chief elements in place, it is subsequently easier to analyze the simplicity and straightforward architecture of the Deku people. The gate itself is composed of a line of boards around the rectangular gate out of Clock Town; the uppermost portions of these posts are painted white, with a brief splash of red below. A small awning overhangs this entrance, and is thatch but for a row of alternating white, green, and red stripes, done vertically. The entire gate, held between two small walls of similarly-embellished wood, stands upon a raised platform and is visually framed by two freestanding square pillars, each of which has a carved apex of green and red. One small step leads downward from the platform, and the only route to the Southern Swamp is a path of grass bound only by pairs of these same painted, wooden pillars. The grass changes drastically in shade between the third and fourth pairs of posts, from a light green to a dark jade with spots of tan coloration. The trees in this area are dead, and some lie fallen, while others have been carved into tunnels, or chopped up for use in construction. Patches of long grass appear outside the bounds of the post-lined pathway, and one last pair of pillars frames the southern exit from Termina Field into the swamp beyond.

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