young peasant

2

Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us.

On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar”, every “supreme leader”, every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there—on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world.

—Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot

2

Just in case anyone thought the Princess Bride story might’ve been made up.

I had so much hair good heavens. I do not miss what the humidity used to do to it! Yeah the stage was small, so there weren’t many set pieces to go along with what they acted out from the movie, but they went all out with Buttercup’s costumes.

The other photo is me just running around the exhibits which we definitely wouldn’t have been allowed to do during the day

Voltron AU

Okay, so imagine an AU where Keith and Lance are little kids. Lance is a young prince and Keith is a young peasant. Keith lives in a little shack with his big brother Shiro. Lance of course lives in the castle. One day, Lance sneaks out of the castle and goes to a field of sunflowers. Why? Cause those are his favorite. While picking some sunflowers, he turns to see another little boy with him. Keith. He doesn’t come off as friendly at first, but soon he warms up to Lance and his cute little jokes. The castle guards arrive after searching for the young prince, and escort Lance back to the castle. But before Lance turns to leave, he gives Keith a little pendent he keeps with him. It’s in the shape of the Voltron logo. Lance smiles and says something along the lines of, “It was nice meeting you! Hope to see you again some time my fair friend!” and waddles off. Keith just stands their and watches Lance leave with the guards, looking down at the pendent blushing. He keeps the pendent for many years, wondering when the time he’ll see Lance again. To most of the kingdom he’s the prince. But to Keith, he’s his first crush, friend, and the one he’s longing for the most. 


Then one day he decides to visit the sunflower field, where he hears a familiar voice…

Also in this AU, their hair is super floofy.

Ferdinand Georg Waldmüller (1793-1865)
“Young Peasant Woman with Three Children at the Window” (1840)
Oil on canvas
Biedermeier
Located in the Neue Pinakothek, Munich, Germany

The Biedermeier period refers to an era in Central Europe between 1815 and 1848 during which the middle class grew and arts appealed to common sensibilities. It began with the time of the Congress of Vienna at the end of the Napoleonic Wars, and ended with the onset of the European revolutions in 1848. Although the term itself is a historical reference, it is predominantly used to denote the artistic styles that flourished in the fields of literature, music, the visual arts and interior design. Waldmüller himself was one of the most important Austrian painters of the Biedermeier period.

Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every ‘superstar,’ every ‘supreme leader,’ every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there–on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.
—  Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot
10

Pietro Antonio Rotari (1707– 1762, Italy)

Female portraits

Rotari was an Italian painter of the Baroque period. Born in Verona, he worked extensively around central Europe, where he was in considerable demand as a portrait artist, and died in St Petersburg, where he had traveled to paint for the Russian court.

10 More 1 Sentence Hooks!

1. The Paladin wakes up to find a dead prostitute in their bed, and they don’t remember a thing.

2. While walking down a remote trail the party finds a baby in a basket with a note that says “It’s your problem now”.

3. The local foppish son of a lord has challenged a member of the party to a duel.

4.The party is being chased by some crooked law enforcement and the only place they can hide is the bar of one of the party’s Ex(girl/boyfriend)(Yes, Casablanca)

5. There is a new designer drug that has hit the streets, it has minimal negative effects and is not addictive, but dealers keep ending up dead.

6. A young peasant needs help wooing the duke’s daughter, he offers the location of some lost ruins as a reward.

7. Assassins keep attacking the party, they have nothing on them besides a dagger and some odd coins the players don’t recognize.

8. The dead keep appearing in this small town, several locals have litterally been scared to death.

9. Use of arcane magic is slowly driving all the mages of the kingdom insane

10. A party member receives an official letter from a magistrate telling them that someone they care about has been murdered


-deo

bow-down-peasants-its-queenb  asked:

Can you recommend me some books that are based on 'modern fantasy' (Eg: Percy Jackson, Mortal Instruments, HP etc.) where there's friends, adventures, magic all in modern world? I'm dying to read a novel but I'm pretty fussy about the genre. Thanks X

Hi there! Wow, that’s tough, but this is a short list we managed to come up with:

We hope this helps, and happy reading!

Love,
Fizzle Reads family

New Fic, read here or on AO3 (x)

Just cause I’m really upset over TWP making Perkin legit, and this is my angst ridden fic I’ve done to cope with it all

Ghosts of the Past:

He’s not my brother

Bess said before her husband and mother in law with certainty. She could say it before the entire court if need be. This man, this boy was not her dead brother. Her brothers were long dead she had told her husband when he asked her in private. Long dead. This man could not be her brother.

Keep reading

(Previous Letter)

Dear James CyberLink,

Oh yeah, I remember that.  That was a gift from Miss Maya!  I only wore it that one time, though.

And what was so crazy about my “Trucy in Gramaryeland” costume?  I thought it was perfect for a young peasant girl who’s secretly a magician!

-Trucy Wright

P.S. I don’t think lawyer suits count as costumes when you’re really in a courtroom.

3

“That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it, everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there… on a mote of dust suspended… in a sunbeam. The Earth is a very small stage in a vast, cosmic arena.- Carl Sagan [x]

We succeeded in taking that picture, and, if you look at it, you see a dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived out their lives. The aggregate of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every hopeful child, every mother and father, every inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there – on a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

[…] To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

- Carl Sagan (died: 20 December 1996)

“That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it, everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.

The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization. Every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor, explorer. Every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every…superstar. Every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species live there: On a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and triumph they can become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.

Think of the endless cruelties visited by one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of another corner; How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturing, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe are challenged by this point of pale light.

Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life, there is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to where our species could migrate. Visit? Yes. Settle? Not yet.

Like it or not for the moment, the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image.

To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another and to preserve, and cherish, the Pale Blue Dot.”

–Carl Sagan

10

018 Dangerous Liaisons (1988)

Oh, Azolan if you were my devoted valet, I too would let you polish things and pick locks with your hair pins and give you all the hats and wigs and gold buttons and green robes with giant flowers and birds that you could possible want.  And I would spend a significant part of my time throwing things at you for you to catch.  (Lady’s maids be damned though, I would keep you all to myself.)  Your boss, Valmont, isn’t a very nice guy, but as with almost everything else in his life, he has impeccably perfect taste in his manservant.

This is a proper big budget-big name-big costume extravaganza.  Luckily for us, even though the plot is pretty much entirely to do with the aristocrats, Peter’s part is actually pretty big and he gets to have lots and lots and even more lots of fun dressing up (because as we know from A Portrait of Scotland, velvet breeches do things to/for him)  

and also being in a state of undress, which is just as good, if not better. 

In a perfect world, the leads from the stage version (the red hot combo of Alan Rickman and Lindsay Duncan and Juliet Stevenson, oh my!) would have reprised their roles, but for a Hollywood redo, I think this comes out quite well in the actors and acting department.  Keanu Reeves  — no, I’m not kidding — is very much the weakest acting link, but it helps that his character is supposed to be easy on the eyes but empty of the head which I’m sure made things a lot easier for him.