#Western delicacies

[power-chords]

The Daniel Boyarin book on the construct of heterosexuality and the Haskalah is both fascinating and enlightening (lol), but also really unintentionally funny at points. One of the subjects it goes into is how foundational Talmudic ideals of masculinity are completely incompatible with, in fact almost diametrically opposed to, Western romantic notions of rugged heroism. And the pre-modern texts that illustrate these paragons of Sexy Virtue, like the guys who by traditional Jewish standards would be considered both unbearably hot and S-tier marriage material, tend to amount to shit like, "Shmuel was pale and delicate and so devoted to his studies that for a whole year he did not leave his quarters except to attend services. He was sensitive and patient and known for resolving disputes with great delicacy, and as legend has it he once got the two angriest dudes in the village to stop feuding with each other and now the descendants of their families are like super tight, wouldn't you know it. His Torah reading skills were CRAZY. At the house of his betrothed he gave a detailed and penetrating analysis of this one really complicated passage and explained its meaning with unparalleled depth and subtlety. Everybody wept and fell in love with him instantly."

#as I mentioned to friends this dude was born a few hundred years too early. he'd do numbers on tumblr in 2023

[superinjun]

We Are The Ocean

Ursala Hudson (Tlingit/Filipino/German)

collar: merino wool, silk, steel cones, leather. ravenstail patterns, crochet, basketry twining technique. Woman as a Wave shawl: merino wool, silk, cedar bark. chilkat and ravenstail patterns, crochet, basketry twining technique. Tidal apron: merino wool, silk, leather, steel cones. chilkat and ravenstail patterns.

“We Are the Ocean is an ensemble comprised of a collar, apron (entitled Tidal), and shawl (entitled Woman as a Wave). The collar and bottom edge of the shawl are twined using a basketry technique to bring delicacy to the regalia, made specifically to emphasize the wearer’s feminine essence. In place of the sea otter fur that traditionally lines the top of Chilkat and Ravenstail weavings, the merino weft yarns were used to crochet the collar and shawl’s neck lines, bringing forward and incorporating a European craft practiced by both my maternal (Tlingit/Filipino) and paternal (German) grandmothers. The high neck of the collar gives tribute to the Western aesthetics that have forever influenced the Indigenous cultures of our lands; with grace, we embrace that which cannot be undone, and use our new form to be better. The apron’s pattern was studied and graphed from an old Tlingit cedar bark basket, and represents the tides of our lives, as our lessons continue to arise in a revolving cycle, yet made of new debris. The repetitive pattern of the shawl represents the infinite connectedness of our sisters, mothers, aunties, and daughters. Blue lines break up inverted rows, representing the “past,” “present,” and “future,” acknowledging these concepts as irrelevant constructs that fall away when we commune with the Divine. The entire ensemble is worn to evoke the innate spirit of the Woman as an ethereal deity, that resides within us all.”

#textiles #regalia #fiber art #weaving #ursala hudson #tlingit #filipino #indigenous art #native art #first nations art #ndn art

[forensic420]

MW2 Task Force 141+König Hyperrealistic HC’s ✰

Ghost

-Not as reserved as you think he’d be, he’s actually very talkative. Him and Soap’s comm dialogue is more then enough evidence to show that he enjoys a good conversation and even jokes.

-Does that soldier sleep position often x . He’s a light sleeper, always ready to defend. When comfortable you can find him mumbling in his sleep, usually soft “yes”’s and “no”’s.

-Doesn’t fully understand American culture, he’s very confused by common American delicacies. “Y/N, what the fuck is a bucee’s?” He’d ask with a stressed look.

-Avid user of the word “cunt”. Top three favorite words. Also loves saying, “cheers ya slag”, he thinks and waits for scenarios so he can use it.

Gaz

-Very passionate about the military and his career. Gaz as a child would attend parades only to see the soldiers and wait at the end of the parade to meet them, his room was also filled with military toys and articles.

-His main song he listens to is Red Nation by The Game and Lil Wayne, it’s one of the few songs he downloaded on a portable music player.

-Is always around Price no matter where. You can always find him in Price’s office just chatting away and discussing documents. The two are bonded and Gaz is grateful to have an “older” and experienced father figure.

-Enjoys quiet days at the base. He likes just being able to hang out and be around his friends and team, he’d go to great lengths for his fellow soldiers.

Soap

-Soap’s accent can be super thick at times, causing the team to not understand him at times. He doesn’t attempt to correct himself most times, just continuing to ramble and goes on with the conversation.

-Is terrified of Ronald Mcdonald. “He be too happy, y’know?” He’d claim and frown. BIG fan of Grimace and the Hamburgler though, often always commenting on his love for them when the team mentions fast food.

-Secret artist. Soap’s mystery talent is he’s very gifted in drawing, he keeps his sketch pads under his mattress. He’d never show anyone but he is engrossed in sketching the team. There’s pages full of Ghost, Price, and Gaz just doing common things like sitting in a meeting or having a conversation with another team member.

-Absolutely hates doing dishes. Whenever he’s on dish duty he always complains. “A'd ower die.” He’d say and convince Gaz to do it, with the agreement of him doing Gaz’s chores for a week.

Price

-Is always rambling to Gaz or Soap about old movies he loves and makes them watch it with him. It became a weekly occurrence to find Price with the team watching some old western or military film.

-Enjoys watching documentaries about ancient civilizations, his favorite is Mesopotamia and the Shang dynasty.

-Price is always making sure his team is feeling good, often spending an equal amount of alone time with each member to talk and company them. “How’re you feeling, son?” He’d ask with a gentle but firm hand on their shoulder.

-When Soap is rambling and his accent is completely drowning a coherent sentence Price just nods and hums to him. He never comments on it, even if he doesn’t fully understand what was said.

König

-Huge fan of Rammstein. His teenage room was covered in posters of them and other bands like Helloween. Even as a full grown man he is not afraid to admit his love for Till Lindemann.

-A firm believer of Krampus and is very passionate about the subject. “Mein Gott! Don’t you know Knecht Ruprecht will get you if you’re naughty?” He’d tease to his soldiers, always backing it up by saying he knew a kid who got whipped by him.

-Has catatonic tendencies, will frequently withdrawal and get irritable. He’ll stay in his room going rigid and stays stupor. At times no Kortac member will see him, always wandering around base to try to find him. Once he snaps out of it he’ll often not remember it. “Was meinst du?” He’d ask and furrow his eyebrows, talking about a past day mission as if it were yesterday.

-As a child he was always absorbed and immersed in his mother’s snow globe collection. Gripping onto the mantle he’d watch the faux snow twirl around in the liquid. Was always afraid that somehow the globes would miraculously all fall off the mantle and shatter onto the ground.

#call of duty modern warfare ll #mw2 #mw2 x reader #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #cod #ghost #ghost mw2 #soap cod #soap mctavish x reader #soap mw2 #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle garrick #john mactavish #price cod #price mw2 #captain price #price x reader #konig #könig mw2 #konig modern warfare #könig x reader #cod x reader

[zvaigzdelasas]

A diplomatic crisis has erupted between Poland and Israel following the death of a Polish aid worker in Gaza, with the Polish president denouncing a comment by the Israeli ambassador as “outrageous” and the foreign ministry in Warsaw saying it was summoning him for a meeting.

A Polish man, 35-year-old Damian Sobol, was among seven people who were killed while delivering food to besieged Palestinians in Gaza with the charity World Central Kitchen this week.

Israel has called the incident a “mistake” that followed a misidentification, despite the vehicles being clearly marked and the organisation having coordinated with the Israeli military prior to departure.

Amid shock and outrage in Poland over the incident, Israel’s ambassador to Poland, Yacov Livne, pushed back on Tuesday at what he said were attempts by the “extreme right and left in Poland” to accuse Israel of “intentional murder in the attack”.

He said on social media Tuesday that “anti-Semites will always remain anti-Semites, and Israel will remain a democratic Jewish state that fights for its right to exist. Also for the good of the entire Western world.”

Polish President Andrzej Duda on Thursday called the comment “outrageous” and described the ambassador as “the biggest problem for the state of Israel in relations with Poland”.

Duda said authorities in Israel have spoken about the tragedy “in a very subdued way” but that “unfortunately, their ambassador to Poland is not able to maintain such delicacy and sensitivity, which is unacceptable”.

Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk, though a political opponent of Duda, voiced a similar position and said that the ambassador should apologise for issuing a comment offensive to Poles. He said that Israel should pay compensation to Sobol’s family.[...]

On Wednesday, Tusk also published a comment on social media addressing Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Livne, saying “The vast majority of Poles showed full solidarity with Israel after the attack launched by Hamas on October 7. Today you are putting this solidarity to a really hard test. The tragic attack on volunteers and your reaction arouse understandable anger.”

4 Apr 24

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 18]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

"Hwa hwa, you know I love you the most, right?" You threw your arms around the male, hugging him with a sweetest grin that you could muster. Seonghwa raised an eyebrow as he stared at you, more like glared at you.

"Yeah right. The only time (y/n) tells Seonghwa hyung she loves him is to get out of trouble." Jongho snorted.

"Shut up, Jongho." You hissed.

"Be nice." Seonghwa hit the back of your head, making you sulk. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity, Wooyoung wrapped his arms around your waist to back hug you.

"Woo~" You squirmed. Seonghwa sighed, stroking your head. He knew that you already knew what he was going to say.

"Are you tired?" He asked.

"Not at all. It was nice and relaxing. I needed this, to keep myelf busy." You looked up at him. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho knew what you meant.

"Plus, Yunho is good company." You added. All 3 boys looked up at Yunho, who was just standing there, trying to eavesdrop and watch what was happening without being noticed. He blinked when he realised that all the stared were at him. Embarrassed that they knew he was there, he cleared his throat.

"He made sure I sat down to rest after. And you! You're interfering with my coffee drinking! Even made sweet innocent Yunho turn against me." You raised a hand to hit Seonghwa.

"I-I made her a h-hot chocolate." Yunho confirmed, a little flustered to hear you call him 'sweet' and 'innocent'.

"Good. Now let's get to work." Seonghwa said, patting your head and completely ignoring you.

"I only need to fill my pasta. I'm letting my galbi and broth simmer for as long as I can let it. My garnishes and toppings are prepared." You told them.

"I'll start on apps with you?" Jongho offered. You nodded, about to walk when you noticed Wooyoung still latched to your waist.

"Wooyoung! Let me go." You patted his back. He puckered his lips in a pout before he unwillingly let you go.

You wore your apron again and went to wash your knife. This night was slightly different. With everyone working on their own dish, there wasn't a clear sous, prep or head chef. All of you just split the shared tasks while working on your own.

"Oh, wait. Let me check on the ice cream." You put your knife down and went to churners to check the consistency of the ice cream. Once they were done, you put them in the freezer.

"What's for dessert?" Yunho asked.

"That was smoked milk and vanilla ice cream. We're serving that with red bean jelly cubes, pieces of injeolmi rice cake and an almond tuile."

"Like flavours of patbingsoo but elevated." Seonghwa informed. You nodded in confirmation.

"For Western dessert, we're doing a burnt white chocolate panna cotta with raspberry swirl meringues, a passionfruit coolis and fresh mango cubes over." Jongho added.

"That sounds really nice. But burnt white chocolate?" Yunho leaned forward on his hands.

"Well, not burnt. More caramelised. White chocolate on its own is very sweet. But cook it until it becomes brown and caramelised, the flavour is a lot better and easier to balance." Wooyoung explained. Yunho nodded in interest. You continued working on the appetisers with Jongho.

"Hweh crudo. Take the marinated fish slices and roll it up with pea shoots, scallions and shredded perilla leaf. Minari (Water dropwort) jeon." You listed.

"We need to prep gujeolpan (plate with small wraps and 9 delicacy toppings)." Jongho reminded.

"Right. Then the confit tomatoes with pickles." You checked.

"I'll do the roasted eggplant with black olive doenjang and ponzu. Almost done here." Wooyoung voiced out as he worked on his dish at his bench. The door opened, the others entering.

"We're here early to help!" San declared loudly with his arms raised. Hongjoong and Yeosang shushed him.

"You can help us with the appetisers. Get aprons and wash your hands." You said.

The 4 main kitchen crew took turns. After Seonghwa and Wooyoung stepped in to guide those that didn't know their way around the kitchen, you and Jongho could work on your mains.

"Yunho, want to help me with my pasta?" You asked. Yunho's head shot up, looking for where you were in the kitchen before leaving Mingi and his task to go to you. He smiled excitedly as he bounded over like a puppy.

"So we need to shred the meat for the pasta. This is the galbi. Take two forks and pull them apart." You demonstrated.

"I can do that! And that smells so good." He pointed to the galbi. Grabbing a tasting spoon, you let him indulge in a bite. But soon, you had others around.

"Hey!" Yunho protested as you fed San, Mingi, Yeosang and Hongjoong too.

"Alright, get back to work." He scolded them. You stayed beside Yunho, rolling out the pasta dough.

"You don't need to shred every single piece entirely. You can leave them in different size pieces." You told Yunho. He nodded with a hum, sneaking a bite before continuing.

"Stop stealing the food." You scolded him with a laugh. Yunho grinned cheekily.

"I want to do Yunho's job too." Hongjoong whined.

"No! It's my job." Yunho barked back. He liked working with you, like your personal sous chef. Yunho watched you measured the dough with a ruler and cut it. You took bites of meat that Yunho had already shredded and placed it in the middle before closing it, joining the ends together.

"Ooh, can I try?" Yunho asked with sparkling eyes. You nodded and Yunho put the forks down temporarily for you to slowly demonstrate how to fold the pasta dough.

"Not too much filling or it'll burst." You advised.

"Yeah, just like that. Press the two ends." You leaned over to see Yunho's one.

"I'll finish up here and continue that." He smiled proudly, putting it aside before finishing his previous job of shredding the meat. Once he was done, he helped you fold the pasta.

"I'm not as fast as you." He pouted.

"You just started. I would already say you're already doing a great job." You smiled.

"Thank you." Yunho blushed from your compliment. He continued to make the pasta with you. You momentarily stepped away to check the seolleongtang broth that was bubbling away on the stove, giving it a taste to make sure it was getting there.

"How is it?" Yunho asked when you stepped back into your original spot. You looked up at him and nodded, telling him how the progress of the stock has been.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, there were a few sets of eyes staring at the two of you chat in your little corner. It was like you were in your own bubble, smiling as you chatted and made the pasta together.

"That's cute." Wooyoung noted. Yeosang nodded in agreement. Hongjoong let out an affectionate chuckle.

"They're in their own world over there." San chuckled.

"They're just talking, how is that cute?" Mingi blinked, completely missing what everyone was talking about. Hongjoong patted Mingi's shoulder sympathetically.

"It's okay not to get it, Mingi ah." Hongjoong chuckled. Seonghwa stared for a second, unknowingly clenching his jaw.

"Seonghwa hyung?" Jongho called out, breaking his brain fog. The look Jongho cast him, Seonghwa knew he had been caught spiralling in his brain. He was reminding the elder that he wasn't alone in the room. Clearing his throat, Seonghwa focussed on the cutting baord in the front of him.

"We're done here. Anyone need help on anything?" You came back to the center of the kitchen where everyone was still working.

"Appetisers are almost done. Do you want to start the dessert components with me?" Seonghwa asked you in a gentle voice. You nodded your head.

"Let's get the panna cottas in the fridge to set." You both went to get the ingredients from the walk in and pantry.

"Thanks for all the help, guys. But if you need to go prepare the front for tonight. Just go ahead, we've got it handled." You said to the 5.

"We should bring in the washed plates for tonight." Yeosang said. He and San went out to bring the plates in for the kitchen crew to use to plate the food on.

"Who is working the pass tonight?" You asked.

"I can be the main. But we'll have to rotate from time to time." Wooyoung volunteered.

"Sure. Just tap out when you need someone to take over." Seonghwa and Jongho agreed. With a small crew, this was how you had to make things work. You couldn't afford to have one person just at one station the whole night.

Soon, the crew that works the front of the restaurant all were busy trying to set up for the night, leaving only a few in the ktichen to work with your kitchen crew.

"Actually, Mingi. I would love to speak with your mother about cooking eels, preparing and procuring them." You said.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to share that knowledge with you, (y/n). She loves talking about food." He chuckled.

"Maybe she can give me her eel supplier. I would love to explore it as an ingredient more. Surprisingly, I have not been that exposed to working with it." You sighed.

"My mum's the right person to go to then. I should bring you to the restaurant one day." He replied.

"I'd love that." You had a small smile on your face.

"Let's cook the staff meal first. I have feeling we might end later than we usually do and we'll be too tired to cook for ourselves then." Seonghwa suggested. You checked the clock, about to decide what to whip up quickly for everyone but San and Mingi came over, volunteering to cook.

"You guys are busy enough. We'll take over and cook something up." San smiled.

"Thanks, guys." You, Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho were very grateful that they stepped up and volunteered. San and Mingi were the best cooks out of the 5 so you weren't too worried.

"Shall we make curry rice?" Mingi suggested, holding the cubes of Korean curry up.

"I know how to make that." San laughed. The two began chopping vegetables, adding whatever meat they could find.

"Is anyone using these?" San came out of the walk in with a few packs of chicken thighs and sliced pork belly in his hands. You all shook your heads.

"I'll cook the rice. You start slicing the meat." Mingi instructed and went to get the rice cooker. The 4 of you made sure to be around them in case the two needed help. But San and Mingi were confident, they didn't want to ask for help.

"Mingi, sorry. Just a few minutes. Yunho needs another tall person to help." Hongjoong poked his head into the kitchen.

"Coming." Mingi went out.

"Hi, (y/n)ie." San smiled when you moved opposite him to check on the pasta that you made with Yunho earlier. You chuckled at the casual way he called you.

"Hi, Sannie." You returned the greeting. San looked up in surprise but smiled nonetheless, his dimple popping through.

"So are you excited for your parents to come tonight?" You asked him. He nodded.

"My parents live rather far in the countryside but when they visit, it is always a treat. I hope my older sister comes too. I miss all of them." San said.

"They must be really nice."

"They are. They treat everyone like their family." He laughed. You wondered what it must be like to have such a warm, welcoming family. Maybe your family would have been like that if your mother was still around. But even then, your father was someone that never liked you and your mother to be too friendly to others.

"(y/n)." Seonghwa called you. You looked up to see Seonghwa nodding over to where he was. Shooting San a small smile, you went over to him.

"Okay?" He whispered as you stood beside him. You let out a small hum, helping him with the dessert.

-

After a quick dinner, the kitchen was bustling for dinner service. You knew the parents came when the boys were all greeting them loudly and excitedly in the dining room.

"Hey." Yunho came in with all the parents behind him. You all stood up, bowing respectfully. He introduced whose parents were whose and the family members. Yunho's younger brother looked like him.

"Please, don't let us bother you. Or interrupt your flow." Mrs Song chuckled, waving a hand. She knew what it was like working in the kitchen, owning her own restaurant. You all returend to your food prep tasks.

"I'm Wooyoung. That's Seonghwa hyung, Jongho and (y/n)." Wooyoung, who was the closest, introduced all of you.

"(y/n). The head." Even if you were not looking at them, you felt all eyes fall on you. Jongho nodded at you, assuring that he could handle it. You straightened up and walked over.

"Nice to meet you." You bowed to them.

"Omo. You're so pretty." All the mothers flocked to you, cooing at you affectionately. You grew flustered, unsure of what to do or how to react.

"Okay, ommas. Let's give her some space." Yunho cut in, separating them from you. The fathers merely chuckled, shaking their heads while the mothers scolded Yunho.

"How talented you are. I heard you've been in many reputable kitchens at your age." Mrs Jeong said sweetly, holding your hand.

"Ah, no... It's all just for experience. I'm thankful for all the opportunities given to me." You gave an awkward smile. Yunho cleared his throat and his mother pulled away, shooting her son a look. You bowed your head and went back to help, not wanting to leave the others on their own for long.

"Alright, we shall let them get back to work. Let's go back out." Yunho ushered all of them out of the kitchen. He let a sigh, hoping his mother didn't scare you too much.

"What happened?" Mingi asked.

"Our mothers were smothering (y/n)." Yunho rolled his eyes as the parents took their seats.

"Hyung, (y/n) and those guys are so talented. Why would they want to work for you?" Gunho asked. Yunho shot his younger brother a flat look while Mr Jeong nudged his youngest son.

"Because I am an amazing boss, okay?" Yunho scoffed.

"Mmm, sure." Yeosang coughed. Hongjoong handed out the menus to the parents for them to see what they would like to order.

"Omma, order (y/n)'s dish. I helped make it." Yunho leaned over, pointing to which dish you made on the menu. Mrs Jeong nodded with a hum.

"Hyung helped make it? I'm so not going to order it." Gunho shook his head. Mingi snickered, reaching over to hi-five him. Yunho threatened to hit them. But in the presence of other customers, he wasn't going to.

"Order coming in for the VIP tables." Wooyoung warned as he started to read off the order slips that were coming through.

"Let's go." You all began to work on the appetisers together that would be served first. Wooyoung, at the pass, would finish up with sauces and garnishes before sending the plate out to be served.

"Service." Wooyoung put the plates out for the other boys to bring out to the table.

"Let's start getting ready for mains so we can fire once they are done with apps. In case we need to float." You said to everyone.

"How is it going in here?" Yunho came into the kitchen. You were straining your seolleongtang stock, getting it ready to plate the mains later.

"How are the appetisers?" Seonghwa asked, setting up his oven smoker with the tea leaves for his duck.

"Oh, they love it. Every single dish, I had to stop them from ordering seconds before the mains. But at least they're all excited for the mains now." Yunho grinned proudly. When you were done, you helped Jongho with setting up his binchotan grill for the cod fillets. Yunho came over to you.

"Need help?"

"No, we're good here. You should go out and be with your parents. In case they need anything." You put a hand on his arm. Yunho pouted but nodded, obediently leaving the kitchen.

"We can start firing the mains." Wooyoung said, having observed the dining room from his position at the pass.

"Gunho looks like Yunho. A younger version." You chuckled as you took the pasta out of the boiling water. You missed the odd look that your friends shot you.

"Cuter?" Jongho asked, wanting to add fuel to the fire.

"Maybe." You shrugged.

"What?!" The door burst open and Yunho yelled in disbelief, making you all jump in shock. Hongjoong, who was outside, bowed in apology to the surprised customers before hurriedly pushing Yunho in the kitchen.

"Geez, Yunho! There are customers! You can't just suddenly yell like that." He scolded in a hiss before exiting to return to the dining room.

"Yunho, don't do that. You're disrupting customers and it's not safe where we're working with knives here." You frowned.

"Wait, do you seriously think Gunho is cuter than me?" Yunho planted his hand on the counter, blocking your way with his body. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho snickered.

"Does it matter? Now, I need to plate my dish." You said, walking around him to go to the plates.

"Yes, it matters to me!" Yunho threw a tantrum, stomping his food as he whined.

"(y/n)~" He whined when he realised that you were ignoring him. You plated each pasta on each plate, making sure the positions of each pasta was accurate and similar. He leaned down in front of you.

"(y/n), tell me I'm cuter than Gunho." He said. You rolled your eyes, patting his head to pacify him then walking to get the seolleongtang into a jug so you could pour it over the pasta. Yunho sulked, following you around like a puppy with separation anxiety. You poured the broth over, garnishing with two oils.

"Pass me the egg garnish." You instructed. Yunho sighed but handed the containers for you to put the garnishes over.

"Bring these out for service, will you?" You told him and went to prepare the other portions. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho called the others for service too.

"Yah. Don't just stand there. Keep moving." Mingi clicked his tongue as he carried the dishes in his hands.

"We might have a little lull time before dessets." Wooyoung said.

"(y/n). Tell me I'm better than Gunho." Yunho came in again, still pushing his agenda. You raised an eyebrow at him. He was seriously a pouty puppy.

"I don't know Gunho well enough to know if you're truly better than him. That's biased." You pointed out.

"True." San, who overheard, voiced in agreement. Yunho whipped around, glaring at San.

"Get out." He pointed at the door. San scoffed and rolled his eyes before going out. Turning back around, Yunho saw that you had slipped away. You were still doing the few orders for mains and appetisers that came in.

"Service." You handed the plates to Wooyoung. Yeosang came in to take them out to the dining room. Seonghwa and Jongho also served what they finished working on. Yunho brought them out.

"Let's take 5." Seonghwa suggested. You stepped out the back door for a breather. Yunho came back to find you missing.

"I'm just taking a breather, Yunho." You said when he stepped out of the back door.

"I know." He said, taking a seat beside you on the stoop. With his body practically brushing against yours, you didn't move away uncomfortably. You sat there in silence.

"Why were you so adament on me thinking you're better than Gunho? It doesn't matter what I think." You asked with a chuckle.

"No, it matters to me." Yunho said firmly.

"Why?"

"Because you can't like Gunho. I want to be the only one that you like." He frowned.

~

Series masterlist

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop series #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez series #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez yunho #yunho ateez #yunho #yunho scenarios #yunho series #yunho x y/n #yunho x you #yunho x reader #jeong yunho #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho series #jeong yunho x reader

[mademoiselle-red]

Imagining how Lianhua’s household would celebrate Chinese New Year’s Eve…

On the morning of New Year’s Eve, Lianhua announces to Ah Fei and Xiaobao that he’s got their new year’s eve dinner all planned out.

“Trust me,” he says with unfounded confidence.

Ah Fei narrows his eyes. Xiaobao smiles nervously with trepidation.

On Chinese new year’s eve, Lianhua presents his husband and disciple/adopted child with the following dishes:

Vinegar Fish of the Western Lake 西湖醋鱼

Xiaobao’s review: Amazingly, it tastes just as terrible as the version they serve at the famous Hangzhou restaurant Lou Wai Lou.

(Author note: Seriously, don’t order this “regional delicacy” if you find yourself in Hangzhou. Unless you enjoy the taste of unseasoned steamed fish drowning in vinegar sauce. Order any other fish dish. Like squirrel fish 松鼠鳜鱼 or a plain old steamed fish 清蒸鱼. Also, Lou Wai Lou is a tourist trap. Yes it’s got a long history, and was referenced in the Mysterious Lotus Casebook theme song and appears in Grave Robber’s Chronicles, but no, it is no longer good.)

Osmanthus Lotus 桂花莲藕

Xiaobao’s review: All the ingredients are there and assembled correctly. But why is the flower sauce burnt????

Lianhua: I’ve already ruined two pans from trying to make this sauce! The sugar keeps hardening into rock candy and sticking to my pan! (Caramelization is hard 😭)

(Author note: Do order this dish if you travel to the Yangzhou-Nanjing-Hangzhou-Shanghai area. It’s steamed lotus stuffed with sweet sticky rice and covered in sweet osmanthus flower sauce, what’s not to love?)

Bamboo shoot and chicken soup 竹笋炖鸡

Di Feisheng’s review: Even I am finding it hard to ignore the amount of salt that’s in this soup

Xiaobao: This is salvageable. I’m going to boil some water

(Author note: this is a new year staple in my household 😋)

Longjin Shrimp 龙井虾仁

Fang Duobing’s review: This is actually ok. But then again, it’s hard to really mess this dish up. But I don’t taste the tea. At all. It’s just stir-fried shrimp. Where is the Longjin?

Lianhua: Young Master Fang, do you know how much Longjin tea costs???

(Author note: I tried making this dish at home. It is stir-fried shrimp in a sauce that incorporates Longjin tea. It’s hard to get the tea flavor right without it either not coming through or becoming too bitter. The stir-fried shrimp part is pretty easy.)

After dinner, Xiaobao receives a very bulky red envelope from Lianhua and gets very excited. He opens it, revealing eight bank notes, each worth only one silver tael. His face drops and he begins to pout but Lianhua reminds him that he is a broke old man, while Xiaobao stands to inherit one of the largest fortunes in the country.

Di Feisheng reluctantly hands Xiaobao a very thin envelope. “My accountant prepared it for me. I don’t know anyone I’d consider my junior 晚辈, so you can have it.”

It’s one bank note worth 800 silver taels.

Both Xiaobao and Lianhua gasp in shock.

Lianhua: “Do I get one too? You’re a bit older than me, you know.”

Di Feisheng: “Have you got no pride?”

Lianhua: “Ah Fei gege” 🥺

(Note: gege means “older brother” in Chinese)

#莲花楼 #mysterious lotus casebook #can you tell I’m a foodie?

[tanuki-kimono]

Hello! I love your blog bc it helps me a lot with writing and crafting. Thank you so much for making it!

Are there any patterns that deal with poison? Either in the pattern or in the dyeing process?

Even if there's not I'm glad you and this blog exist 💗

(anon continues) Poison in the dyeing process, like when green dresses were dyed with copper arsenite and it was extremely deadly.

Or a pattern of someone being poisoned, like a historical/folktale.

_______________________________________

Thank you for your kind words <3 I tried to keep things organized but the subject is huge so my of the top of my head answer is going in many directions. I hope you'll still find what you need :3

I'll briefly cover here dyes and (pigments), poison motifs, real life and supernatural poisonings. Buckle up we've got a long post ahead!

____ ABOUT DYE

Tbh I had to think for a moment because I don't recall major "poison" stories linked to dyes in Japan, be it fictionous or real (yet that doesn't mean none ever happened, especially considering Japan's history of industrial poisonings...).

Most gruesome details in the fabric industries I know of are about the horrific life & work conditions of female laborers in spinning mill manufactures (as in many countries, Japan industrialization process was ghastly...).

If potters and dyers had excellent practical knowledge, chemistry as a science officially started kind of late in Japan as it was not a local interest, and as rangaku (study of Western knowledge) often favored other subjects like medicine or warfare.

So, until the introduction of aniline dyes (not textile related, but this article about the use of synthetic dyes in ukiyoe printing is super interesting), Japanese worked with "natural" dyes, like ai (indigo) which was the most used during Edo period.

As with any ingredient, being natural doesn't equal safety. Some mixtures could be quite potent/foul, and process could be dangerous. Plants and minerals base ingredients could be toxic (cinnabar and orpiments were then used as paint pigments, and lead could be found in make up), as were mordants used to set colors.

If you want to easily overview which ingredients were used to create colors, I recommand browsing [Irocore] which presents colors with explanation in English in their database (pick a color then scroll down).

Not related to poison, but ai (indigo) is traditionally prepared in aigame/enormous floor set jars I find utterly terrifying:

I don't know if this tidbit can help you, but some dyes and mordants actually damage the fabric overtime, leaving them brittle (silk desintegrates after a while which is a huge issue in textile conservation).

____ POISON MOTIFS

Concerning "poison" themed patterns, none would be actually used traditionally on a kimono or an obi beside novelty items ^^;

For example, many plants can be toxic, but I don't see them set as pattern for this property - they'd rather refer to a poem, be a symbol of the passing of seasons etc. Fuji (wisteria) can be quite harmful, yet it's a beloved traditional motif in Japan.

You have much more chances to find pattern with kujaku (peacock) which are thought to be impervious to poison in Buddhism, than say venomous mukade (centipede) or the horrific ômukade (a youkai I covered in a folktale).

Snakes like the habu and mamushi are dangerous, but if used as pattern snakes are most often auspicious and linked to rain dragons or goddess Benzaiten.

If you squint hard, toxic fugu could count as poison pattern, but such a seasonal delicacy as a motif would mostly underline wealth (as those fishes are pretty expensive as they are prepared by specialized chefs), a kind of carpe diem spirit, or just a fun pattern because fugu balloon shape is cute ;)

____ POISON MURDERS

Poisoning was certainly a thing is Japan since ancient times (see kodoku sorcery). Poisons were for example used in some fishing techniques.

I am pretty sure some kuge and buke were disposed of this way - even thought poison was seen as a coward weapon (hence why its supposed to be only used by shinobi/ninja - even if this "fact" is opened to a lot of discussions!).

During Edo period, such murders made up the news and penny dreadful-like illustrated books favored by city dwellers in need of a fright. But those stories didn't pass to posterity beside cheap ukiyoe plates, and were never as popular as some shinjû (double suicides) or ghost revenges like poor poisoned and murdered Oiwa's:

____ SUPERNATURAL POISONINGS

If your poison is both physical and metaphorical illbeing, mushi could be your guys ^^ This term actually covers everything small and crawling, from real worms and insects, to anything inside one's body causing distress - be it a parasite, an unknown illness, an overboard emotion, a curse etc. If you've read/seen Mushishi you've got what I mean:

In fact any illness-causing being could count as poison-bringer. Hôsôkami (smallpox demon) was truly feared by all before vaccination was introduced in Japan.

Finally, continuing the supernatural poisoning trail, best girl is probably legendary fox witch Tamamo no Mae who among other terrible deeds made emperor Konoe fall sick with poisonous miasma (some version of the story attributes the disease to another monster, the nue). I covered a similar murderous kitsune folktale here.

#ask #japan #japanese history #dye #pattern #motif #poison #venomous #illness #natural dye #aniline dye #mordant #pigment #kujaku #peacock #mukade #centipede #omukade #youkai #snake #hebi #mamushi #habu #benzaiten #fugu #mushi #insect #mushishi #Hôsôkami #smallpox demon

[dduane]

Diners first making the acquaintance of this modern Arlene high-table delicacy generally become too busy enjoying it to bother inquiring about its origins. But its refined appearance as served by the royal kitchens in Prydon to the King's guests (or to casual passers-by, since Kynall Castle's refectories are open to all) goes far to conceal its robust genesis as a fishermen's dish of the coastal and riverine country between the eastern and western branches of the Upper Arlid.

The original version of what would later be known as "Silver and Gold" (Arl./N.Arl. Dekhen-u-Ihrsen) was devised by North Arlene prawn fishermen who needed to find a use for shellfish they'd caught that were too small or damaged to offer in the coastal markets of Fûrdéin and Asfahæg. These "subpar" shrimp would be boiled in brine abroad ship and then kept submerged in frequently-renewed seawater until the fishermen made port.

There the ocean shrimp-fishers would meet with their freshwater-fishing counterparts, some of whom would be bringing in new-landed starscale pike (and other types) from the broad and busy breeding grounds of the upper Arlid delta. Cooked salt-water prawns would readily enough be bartered for sweetwater pike and their fine-grained, golden roe—or acquired by taverners in the "borderer" port towns east and west of Rûl Tyn—and cooked together with them.

A popular longshoremen's approach, because it kept well after cooking, was to mix and bind the chopped-up shrimps with grated dried bread and egg to make fish balls or thick cakes. These would be stuffed with chunks of roe from either marine or riverine fish—pike's roe being a favorite for its buttery and slightly smoky flavor, and the roes sometimes being cooked separately first. Then the (sometimes) breaded fishcakes would be fried in whatever fat was regionally most plentiful.1 The fried cakes could afterward be served up in a number of ways: by themselves—though often dipped in savory sauces heavy on whitefruit—pressed onto bread trenchers or sippets and sauced on top, or wrapped in wheaten or oaten platebreads in the Darthene coastal style.

But later on, during the period in the mid-1900s p.A.d.2 when a series of dynastic and climatic disasters led the North Arlene crown to resign most of its major functions to the Arlene Throne, the nature of the dish (as of many others originally native to North Arlen) began to change. Late-century cooks in Prydon and other northern Arlene cities began to upscale North Arlene cuisine in general as a kind of culinary tribute to a kingdom in decline. In the process they transformed this coastline shellfish dish into a more sophisticated composition seen (correctly or incorrectly) as more suited to urban palates, and tailored to emphasize the fresh marine flavor of the prawns.

The dish's modern name refers specifically to the classic Prydon-devised version in which the pale color of the meat of the shrimp is made to contrast strongly with the gold of pike caviar—in this presentation, now delicately rubbed out of the original "skeins" of roe to be served on top. And while we can certainly approach the flavor of the dish when making it on our own Earth, one thing we can't approach is the perfect paleness of the Arlene versions.

This is because we lack a specific and vital ingredient: the Arlene pewter shrimp, Metacrangon peltrumis medioregnis. While otherwise generally similar to Crangon crangon, the common our-Earth north Atlantic "gray shrimp", M. peltrumis is missing something normally commonplace among crustaceans: the protein complex called astaxanthin, which normally reacts with another complex called crustacyanin to produce the red shell and pinkish flesh coloration typical of cooked shrimps.3 As a result, the cooked flesh of the pewter shrimp is pure white, with no other colors to interfere with the shrimp's silvery presentation on the plate.

These more citified versions of dekhen-u-ihrsen involve, somewhat paradoxically, less cooking but more labor. After peeling and deveining, the cooked and chopped pewter shrimp are crushed and pounded in a mortar... hence the term "brayed" in the recipe name. (This indicates that the mortared shrimp mixture has a consistency smoother than something knife-chopped, but nonetheless more textured than an otherwise-mechanically produced puree.) After the addition of soured cream and spices, the mixture is molded between spoons and chilled in an ice-room until it firms slightly, and then served forth on toasted sippets and topped with iced pike caviar.

The use of the term "sallet" in the recipe name harks back (in one linguistic direction) to our many uses for the word "salad", and (in a different, more archaic one) to transitional early-1900s versions of the dish in which the pounded and formed shrimp was served out on roasted lettuce or cooked bitterleaf greens. In current versions, such as the one we illustrate here, greens are often still part of the presentation. But the main theme of the dish remains the contrast between the pale delicacy of the pounded shrimp and the glistening gold of the caviar.

See the right-hand tab on this page for the full recipe. 

1 In North Arlen this would normally be sunflower, palm oil, or treenut oil (from the Middle Kingdoms version of our Shea tree, Vitellaria paradoxa).

2 The commonly-used abbreviation for pai Ajnedäre derüwin: "since the Arrival". i.e. of the Dragons, and the destruction of the Dark.

3 More information on our Earth's recent discovery of this chemical interaction can be found in this interesting paper.

#Middle Kingdoms #Middle Kingdoms meta #Food and Cooking of the Middle Kingdoms #recipe

[frostfires-blog]

Bleach Hanakotoba Analysis Part 3 ~ OP16: Scar & ED31: Saihate

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-> Division 01: Chrysanthemum

The flower insignia of the 1st division is the chrysanthemum (Chrysanthemum morifolium) which is known as kiku (菊) in Japanese. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower signifies truth and innocence. Its meanings in hanakotoba include nobility, virtuousness, perfection, rejuvenation, longevity and good luck. A sixteen-petalled chrysanthemum is not only one of Japan’s two unofficial national flowers but is also used on Japan’s imperial seal. In Western floriography, Chrysanthemums symbolise cheerfulness, devoted love, loyalty, happiness longevity, joy, trust, optimism, fidelity and friendship. In some cultures, Chrysanthemums—particularly white ones—are only associated with mourning, sympathy and death.

-> Division 02: Pasque flower

The flower insignia of the 2nd division is the Pasque flower (Pulsatilla) which is also known as the nodding anemone and wind flower. It is called the okinagusa (翁草) in Japan. According to the official Bleach lore, this insignia means “seeking nothing”. Its additional meanings in hanakotoba include “untold love”, “pure heart”, and “love of betrayal”. The downward flower of the Pasque flower is said to have given rise to it symbolising "untold love" and "pure heart" as this is thought to mirror the feelings of a pure girl who is ashamed of her sentiments and finds it difficult to express them. The Pasque flower's symbolic meaning of a "love of betrayal" stems from the fact that after reaching their peak, the flowers that initially bloom face downwards turn upward. In Western floriography, the Pasque flower represents rebirth, renewal, hope, dignity, nobility, grace and the phrase “forsaken in love”.

-> Division 03: Marigold

The flower insignia of the 3rd division is the marigold (Tagetes) which is known as the marīgōrudo (マリーゴールド) in Japanese. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower signifies despair. Its meanings in hanakotoba include jealousy, despair and sadness. In Western floriography, they symbolise grief, despair, and jealousy as well as the expression of deep feelings and passion.

-> Division 04: Bellflower

The flower insignia of the 4th division is the bellflower (Campanula) which is known as the berufurawā (ベルフラワー ) and otome kikyo (乙女桔梗 ) in Japan. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower signifies that “those who grieve are loved”.  Its meanings in hanakotoba include gratitude, sincerity and pleasant chatter. Bellflowers are a symbol of gratitude, constancy, romance, and support in Western floriography. Additionally, bellflowers can stand for affection, delicacy, humility, and everlasting love. In particular, blue bellflowers are symbolic of peace, healing, openness, tranquility, and friendship—on the other hand, cream bellflowers are symbolic of thoughtfulness, grace, elegance, peace, and hope. Given that a bellflower's shape resembles a church bell, it is believed that the flower's symbolic meanings of gratitude and sincerity originate from church teachings. It is thought that the bellflower's symbolic meaning of pleasant chatter originates from the observation that its flowers which point diagonally upward bloom together giving the impression that the small flowers are merrily conversing with one another.

-> Division 05: Lily of the Valley

The flower insignia of the 5th division is the lily of the valley (Convallaria majalis) which is known as suzuran (鈴蘭) in Japanese. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower represents sacrifice, danger, pure love, humility and sweetness. Its meanings in hanakotoba include purity, humility, sweetness, chastity and finding happiness again. These flowers are symbolic of purity, humility, sweetness, rebirth, good fortune, joy, youth, discretion and a return of happiness in Western floriography. With its lovely, sweet aroma, it's difficult to believe that such a demure-looking flower could be dangerous. It is crucial to highlight, however, that this flower is an extremely toxic plant that, if consumed, can cause severe disease or death. The Lily of the Valley plant contains around 38 distinct cardiac glycosides (cardenolides)—which are a class of organic compounds that increase the output force of the heart and decrease its rate of contractions—that are exceedingly poisonous to both humans and animals. Given its toxicity, it's ironic, that the plant is associated with good fortune, purity, joy, and sweetness.

-> Division 06: Camellia

The flower insignia of the 6th division is the Japanese camellia (Camellia japonica) which is known as tsubaki (椿) in Japanese. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower represents “noble reason”. Its meanings in hanakotoba include modest kindness and pride. In Western floriography, camellias have a long-standing symbolic association with romance and devotion. They symbolize strong desire and passion as well as unfaltering love, devotion, affection, refinement, perfection, faithfulness, and admiration. Normally, the petals and calyx separate as a flower dies, but in the case of camellias, the petals and calyx fall together, preserving the entire flower. In recognition of this, camellias are used to represent longevity, perfection, and pure, unreserved, love that never fades. Red camellias are thought to represent romantic love, passion, or desire. Pink camellias convey feelings of longing and gratitude. White camellias are associated with purity, faithfulness, admiration, perfection, and good fortune. On the other hand, white camellias are regarded to bring bad luck in Japan since they are associated with death and mourning.

-> Division 07: Iris

The flower insignia of the 7th division is the iris (Iris japonica) which is known as ayame (菖蒲) in Japanese. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower signifies courage. Its meanings in hanakotoba include glad tidings, loyalty, messages, hope, graciousness as well and kindness of the heart. In Western floriography, they symbolise hope, faith, friendship, wisdom, royalty, valour and messages.

-> Division 08: Crane flower

The flower insignia of the 8th division is the Crane flower (Strelitzia) which is also called the Bird of Paradise flower. In Japan, it is known as the Gokurakuchouka (ゴクラクチョウカ ). Its Japanese and English names are derived from the flower’s resemblance to a family of tropical birds native to New Guinea called Paradisaeidae. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower represents “everything that is obtained”. The phrases "date in love" and "pretentious in love" are its hanakotoba meanings. The exotic appearance of the flower, which is compared to a person in love, is considered to be the basis of these connotations. In Western floriography, the crane flower symbolizes magnificence, faithfulness, excellence, success and well as having joy in the face of both challenges and successes alike. Additionally, they also symbolize freedom due to the flower’s resemblance to a bird in flight. The Crane flower is native to South Africa where it holds the meanings of freedom, success, loyalty, thoughtfulness, immortality, love and optimism.

-> Division 09: White poppy

The flower insignia of the 9th division is the white poppy (Arctomecon merriamii) which is known as shiroi popī (白いポピー) in Japanese. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower symbolizes oblivion. Its meanings in hanakotoba are sleep and oblivion. In Western floriography. White poppies represent sleep and peaceful rest. They are associated with faith and the concept of the soul's eternal life, and they also serve as a symbol of remembrance for deceased loved ones. Given that white flowers are symbolic of purity; white poppies are a symbol of restful sleep, pleasant dreams and renewal.

-> Division 10: Daffodil

The flower insignia of the 10th division is the daffodil (Narcissus) which is known as suisen (水仙) in Japanese. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower signifies mystery and egoism. Its meanings in hanakotoba include self-love and self-esteem. Yellow daffodils in particular are linked to the phrases "come back to me" and "I want you to love me again." In English floriography, daffodils represent self-love, respect, egoism, and unrequited love. In contrast with the aforementioned negative connotations, daffodils also represent strength, overcoming hardships, and the arrival of success and wealth. White flowers typically symbolize purity—however white daffodils signify a desire for transformation.

-> Division 11: Yarrow

The flower insignia of the 11th division is the yarrow (Achillea alpina) which is known as nokogiri (鋸草) in Japanese. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower signifies fighting. Its additional meanings in hanakotoba include bravery and healing. The yarrow is a symbol of bravery in Western floriography, particularly in times of war, and wearing it is said to bestow courage and protection. The yarrow is also said to represent everlasting love, healing and good health because of its medicinal properties. Its Japanese name, “nokogiri”, translates to “saw grass” and is presumably derived from how the tooth-like shape of a saw’s teeth resembles the plant’s bipinnate/tripinnate leaves.

-> Division 12: Thistle

The flower insignia of the 12th division is the thistle (Cirsium spp.) which is known as azami (アザミ) in Japanese. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower signifies vengeance, strictness and independence. Its meanings in hanakotoba are independence, retaliation, sternness and “do not touch”. In western floriography, thistles symbolise austerity, nobility of character, independence and misanthropy.  In the Victorian era, the gift of thistle flowers served as a warning against unwanted meddling. These flowers are incorporated in the expression “as prickly as a thistle” which describes someone who is easily enraged, particularly in the face of criticism. As Scotland’s national flower, thistles represent bravery, luck and strength. Thistles are referred to as the "flower of the sun" and the "herb of the witches" in the Basque area of France. It is said that thistles provide protection from evildoers and witchcraft because witches are said to be unable to look directly at the sun.

-> Division 13: Snowdrop

The flower insignia of the 13th division is the snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis) which is known as the sunōdoroppu (スノードロップ) and the matsuyukisou (待雪草) in Japan. According to the official Bleach lore, this flower represents hope. Its meanings in hanakotoba are hope and consolation. In Western floriography, the snowdrop represents purity, rebirth, sympathy and hope.  A single snowdrop was seen by the Victorians as a symbol of death and was unlucky to bring into a home. On the other hand, the snowdrop is also associated with rebirth, springtime, and the ability to overcome life's challenges. The snowdrop blooms from mid to late January as winter slowly begins to end thereby reminding us that there is light at the end of the tunnel. It reminds us all that if we put our minds to it, we can achieve great things in life. It also serves as a reminder of change and represents a willingness to grow. Snowdrops are thus often gifted to those trying to move forward from sadness and negativity.

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[If you liked this post, check out part 1 (here) and part 2 (here)... Also, here's the link to my directory of other hanakotoba analysis posts (here)]

[P.S. Here is the final part of my hanakotoba analysis on Bleach. I kept things brief and didn't go into how each flower suits each squad, captain and vice-captain primarily because of time constraints... Also, I doubt anyone wanted to do that much reading lol... I'll happily elaborate and answer any questions in the comments though...]

#tried to keep this brief but ended up rambling lol #bleach #bleach anime #hanakotoba analysis #bleach hanakotoba #bleach florigraphy #hanakotoba #floriography #anime hanakotoba #anime analysis #bleach ed 31 #bleach op16 #anime openings #anime endings #anime music #anime #bleach tybw #bleach tybw part 1 #bleach tybw part 2 #bleach tybw anime #tybw #gotei 13 #soul society #bleach captain #bleach captains #gotei 13 captains

[linesandlattes]

sometimes it just hits me how blessed I am to be born into a culture that is so beautiful and inclusive. you would be living in the north of India and still have so many things that you wish to explore in the south. you would know all about the cuisines of western India and still feel the urge to try the eastern delicacies. our culture leaves soo much for us to EXPLORE and UNFOLD. no because how would shanti priya have that ICONIC moment if she wasn't wearing a dupatta? tell me honestly, would we enjoy weddings if we wouldn't find uncles dancing like it's their last one? how would we simp over men if they weren't wearing that black kurta? how would our mornings start without CHAI? would you have passed that exam if you hadn't had dahi shakkar before leaving? would you have climbed that mountain if there wasn't that shiv mandir up there? how would we romanticize eating pani puri? how would we earn when our elders give us money if we didn't have our festivals? that's the beauty of our culture, we find meaning in the most random things that may sometimes not even make sense but atleast it's something that's our OWN. when we finally embrace this, it's then that we feel at HOME. 💗

#desi tumblr #desi academia #desi dark academia #desi tag #just desi things #being desi #desi aesthetic #desi stuff #desi culture

[sepublic]

I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I think I’ve found a pretty good real-world analogue to the Thornax from Bionicle! Gents, I present to you... the Durian fruit!

Native to Southeast Asia, the Durian is a beast; Hard, spiky shells, with a pungent odor that you either love or hate. The same can be said for the soft insides, which are of a distinct flavor.

There have been stories of Durian traps being used in the Vietnam War, and I can totally believe it. These things have the weight and durability to kill, and have done so many times in the past when dropped on some unsuspecting sod’s head.

As we know, the Thornax is also hard and spiky, and used primarily for combat for this very reason. It’s considered a delicacy by the Glatorian and Agori, with only cultures who grew up with and are accustomed to the Thornax being used to it i.e. the Bone Hunters and Vorox. Thornax stew is said to smell revolting, have a rubbery consistency, and taste awful; Things Durian haters typically say about the fruit!

Cultures who eat these spiky fruits are also considered primitive by racist westerners and are regarded as unusual for their tastes

#If someone could make a durian launcher that’d be great #bionicle #thornax #durian #bone hunters #vorox #glatorian #agori #bara magna

[eternal-echoes]

“Even Voltaire, perhaps the most prolific anti-Catholic propagandist of the eighteenth century, was awed by the heroic spirit of self-sacrifice that animated so many of the Church's sons and daughters. "Perhaps there is nothing greater on earth," he said, "than the sacrifice of youth and beauty, often of high birth, made by the gentle sex in order to work in hospitals for the relief of human misery, the sight of which is so revolting to our delicacy. Peoples separated from the Roman religion have imitated but imperfectly so generous a charity."1”

- Thomas E. Woods Jr., Ph.D., “How Catholic Charity Changed the World,” How the Catholic Church Built Western Civilization

—

1. Michael Davies, For Altar and Throne: The Rising in the Vendée (St. Paul, Minn.: Remnant Press, 1997), 13.

#Catholic #Christianity #quotes #Thomas E. Woods #Western Civilization #charity

[fortune-fool02]

Ok... So this is kinda related to the last post you made with Older Leon and Chris with a younger chaotic reader but...

Just imagine them having to babysit look after the young reader and one moment she's acting like a lunatic/feral cat causing havoc (e.g. Wandering off whenever they see something cute or just unintentionally breaking something) and the next moment she just sat still because she saw one of them cooking something in the kitchen and she's a foodie so she just watches them cook whatever

And imagine if the reader wants to travel the world someday and has unique tastes like she enjoys food from western to Asian food like Malaysian style delicacies and some of her favourite foods are hard to make or find (totally not me projecting here)

These two men would be stressed, haha! Both take turns like parents to watch them, haha.

And aw! Leon and Chris would try their best to get whatever type of good the reader is craving.

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #older leon kennedy #older chris redfield

[leohtttbriar]

been thinking more and more about this illustration of jadzia dax as a cowboy and how westerns are about loneliness and how big the world is and how scary everything can be, but the best ones are actually kurosawa-remakes about weird-loners taking care of people in only the weird-ways they know how---and how if jadzia were in such a film, her ways of caring would be extra weird. for a western. and i produced this tall-tale while imagining her in a poncho.

knees in the saddle and a seat in the sky (ao3 link)

Dry air only hurt when you breathed.

Perhaps Jadzia could hold herself closed, wrap herself up in all the necessary layers and feed a water-mister through her nostrils, directly into her lungs, so her chest would stop cramping and her mouth would stop hurting. It was a possible option for her, if boring. She would keep considering if for as long as she worked in the endless aridity of Bajor’s ancient desert mountains, with only a simple bandana for protection.

And for now, for this morning, with the air so cool, she could mistake the dry for something else—something more invigorating.

It was a fresh morning: a gray dawn shedding the layers of dark as the planet turned into daylight. The path she walked was hardly still but there was almost a pretense of stillness, as if all the creatures who moved among the shrubs and burrows and sandstone were aware of the delicacy of transition. From full night to full day, Jadzia started her work in the in-between.

She hiked along the well-trod path, tamped down first by animals and exploited now by Jadzia and her research. Then, at the small marker she had left on the trail months ago when she had first been dropped off in the middle of this nowhere-everywhere, she turned into the brush, stepping as carefully as she could to keep the places where he boots fell a minimum. Despite her devotion to cautious preservation, she let her fingers drift over the soft fuzz of the emerald-y flowers, blooming like a storm, and closed her eyes briefly, tipping her nose up in the daylight.

She climbed across several foothills, scanning the area for shifts in the pattern or light gleaming off objects in a way it shouldn’t. All she saw was much the same as the day before. Eventually she reached her destination.

Along the southern reaches of the Tanis Canyon plains, before the world burst into mountains, a long stretch of fencing ran east to west. With a Cardassian-designed netting and pinched-wires, the fence was littered with the corpses of animals used to roaming the plains freely, caught in the thin and sharp lines of fence no one used anymore. It had been abandoned long before the Bajorans successfully ousted the Cardassians, and its remoteness left it further forgotten still. One of Jadzia’s many self-appointed duties in the area was to dismantle the fence. She slid gracefully down the final slope to the empty buff and found where she had left off the week before, pulling out her pliers and magnetic-disabler.

The dust kicked up as she walked forward and crouched by the fence-post. She tucked her bandana tighter around her face and bent to her work.

The rough-shod agriculture of the Occupiers had left what was once fallow-soil a crumbling and delicate layer of sediment. Any rain that fell obliterated the earth, washing everything into the canyon, leaving behind a vast expanse of use-less powder. Any life found was that of a traveler or a desperate scavenger, making their way from the highlands of the south to the wetlands far in the north.

Jadzia turned on her magnetic-disabler and began the painstaking work of untying the sharp netting from the post, rolling it up, and removing it from its stake in the ground. Each piece on each post had to be untied individually and could only be worked on so far as the magnetic-disabler’s field extended. It was boring and solitary work—a kind Jadzia hadn’t been used to since she was joined—but she performed it as best she could.

As rough and lonely as it was, she had seen no sky bigger than this one on the edge of the plains. It was a comfort for all that she hid under her hat to avoid its great glare. You couldn’t be truly alone with a sky like that.

Her thighs were aching and her fingers were cramping by the time she started on the fourth post, several hours later. But before she could untie the first knot, a shadow appeared over her hands. She startled and looked up.

“Have you forgotten to eat again?”

Kira had arrived. Next to her was her mount, Rabu, a palukoo-deer—the gray-green ungulate native to the desert plains, antlers curling over her flopping ears and framing Kira’s shoulders with their moon-blooms (closed now in the day), her large angry blue teeth dropping out of her mouth, her nearly two-meter legs restlessly pawing at the sand. They were long domesticated creatures, the first people in the region having befriended them for their scavenging abilities many millenia before, but Kira’s friend was a special sort, reared by Bajorans but left in the wilderness very young by the Occupiers, and so was very touchy and serious for such a pack-oriented animal.

Kira raised her eyebrows, waiting for Jadzia’s answer.

“…No,” said Jadzia.

Kira tilted her head in doubt, knelt in front of Jadzia and pulled her bandana off her face.

“Say that again.”

Jadzia rolled her eyes but didn’t bother trying to lie. “Curzon Dax was an excellent liar, you know,” she said.

“So why aren’t you?” asked Kira with a small laugh.

Jadzia shrugged, glancing out at the endless solitude of desert. “Some things stay the same.”

“Thank the prophets,” said Kira, though Jadzia couldn’t tell what she meant by it. “Now come on. I think you’ve done enough for today. You can’t leave your cats and lizards to fend for themselves and you can’t protect them without a midday meal.”

“They’re not my cats and lizards,” said Jadzia, getting to her feet and stretching her stiff legs. “They’re their own people.”

“They’re animals.”

“You’re an animal.”

“So I’ve been told,” said Kira with a grin.

“You’re jealous then,” said Jadzia, lightly. She helped Kira tie up the dismantled netting and posts in the wagon tied to her deer.

“Jealous?”

“Of how cute they are,” said Jadzia, pushing her hat back to let a rush of air cool her hairline and forehead. “Of how captivating they are. The whole ecosystem. Cute.”

“No one in the history of Bajor has ever called guerto lizards cute.”

“I can’t accept that, Major.”

Kira tried to pout at the title but gave up and held her cupped hands out to hoist Jadzia up onto Rabu. Then she pulled herself up in front of Jadzia, twisted the reins in her hands, and set off for the settlement.

“Can’t you go faster?” asked Jadzia, squeezing Kira’s hips for emphasis.

Kira laughed and then nudged Rabu into a run. Jadzia gasped, as always, with delight, and wrapped her arms around Kira’s waist. The dry air and the dust seemed to fade as they sped across the land, the feel of the moon-deer’s strides ricocheting through Jadzia’s sore body, Kira’s iron-y scent splashing over her. For a moment, the dearth of the soil slipped from Jadzia’s anxious mind.

Kira urged Rabu to slow as they neared the Bajoran settlement, the smallest and most remote one in the Tanis region. Several streams of farmers were making their way into town for lunch, equal parts laughing and exhausted. Kira guided them through the sparse crowds easily, stopping to drop off the fence-pieces at the local Province Engineers’ lab, and then taking Rabu to a feeding and watering well near the diner.

Jadzia slipped off the deer and made her way to Rabu’s head quickly, before the creature got distracted by the feast of dried fish-meat waiting for her.

“Here you go, sweet thing,” murmured Jadzia, spreading her palm on Rabu’s furry cheek and pulling out a few syrup stones she’d gathered from high-up in the mountains. Rabu opened her indigo-maw and snatched up the treat, twittering happily while Jadzia beamed.

“You need to stop spoiling her,” said Kira, hands on her hips.

“I will stop the second you actually want me to,” countered Jadzia, wiping the palukoo-deer slobber from her hand onto her grimy vest.

Kira blushed and Jadzia, somewhat overwhelmed at the sight, turned away towards the diner.

“I hear they’ve made fried river-kelp cakes today,” said Kira, catching up to her. “Have you tried them before?”

“I haven’t,” said Jadzia. “You got my list?”

“Of course.” Kira patted her pocket where she kept a small book of notes—mostly small reminders to herself to keep her busy schedule from crumpling under its own weight, but in the back, on a couple splattered pages, she’d added: Dax’s Bajoran Cuisine. She’d started it as a joke after Jadzia got lost trying to explain everything she liked about Bajoran food since Starfleet had arrived on planet and she mentioned wanting to keep a spreadsheet of all the new things she had tried. Kira had produced her faithful notebook and now it was nearly a year-long tradition to eat her midday-meals with Kira while Kira notated what Jadzia ate.

They stamped their feet on the wooden steps to the diner, trying to rid themselves as much as they could of the sprawling desert dust, before swinging through the doors and pushing their hats back to their neck upon entering the shade. The room was crowded with tired workers—scientists, farmers, diplomats, soldiers—and the bar was even more so. Kira forced her way to an empty corner of the bar and Jadzia followed, desperate for something strong.

“Nerys!” They turned. Shakaar was near the front of the diner waving his long arm over the crowd. Kira nodded at him, said, “I’ll be right back,” before making her way back through the room.

Jadzia settled against the bar, content to wait for Kira before ordering, pushing the loose strands from her braid back over her head and allowing herself a moment of rest.

The moment didn’t last long.

“Hey, Starfleet.” It was one of the diner’s regulars. An engineer—formerly of Kira’s old resistance cell—who spent his days trying to restore the moisture-generators in a thankless and helpless task bound to make anyone bitter the rest of their waking day. That his bitterness was consistently directed at Jadzia was…her burden to bear, she supposed.

“Druner,” she said, keeping one elbow on the bar and turning enough to acknowledge him but not enough to invite him. A couple of his buddies were behind him, covered in mechanical-grease and smelling of goat-shit. They must have been working near the old dairy pastures.

“Found anything useful yet in the mountains?”

Jadzia fiddled with the frayed button-holes on her sleeve cuff. She could tell him about the little river of lichen that was breaking down iron deposits in the stone, leaving freshly-freed metal droplets, encased in keratin, gleaming greenly in the red dirt, feeding the flying desert rodents and giant bajoran-caterpillers, who in turn spread base-metals and other nutrient rich stones just under the duff layer of mountain soil. But she knew this wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to hear. Instead she gave him a smile and said, “Everyday.”

“Bullshit,” he laughed. His buddies laughed with him. “When you gonna help out with the real work?”

“I am doing real work,” said Jadzia, calmly. “I’m doing what I’ve been ordered to do.”

“Starfleet needs to get its priorities straight.”

“You’re normally not this direct, Druner.” Jadzia raised her eyebrows, keeping her tone light. She could tell their conversation was attracting more attention than any one conversation out here should.

“Maybe I’m just in a mood,” he said, laughing again, nothing friendly about it.

Jadzia understood his frustration. She certainly didn’t ask for this position. When she’d arrived a year and a half ago, she’d been expecting to stay on the Space Station working on restoring its systems or to be assigned as a medical assistant on planet. Instead, Benjamin had assigned most of the senior officers to the Tanis Canyon province, where the worst of the ecological disaster had manifested after fifty years of occupation. And soon after, he’d taken Miles and Julian with him to the more populous area of the province, leaving Jadzia behind.

It wasn’t entirely her choice—she had expressed a simple curiosity in returning to the desert mountains closing in the Tanis plains, eventually, and Benjamin had tipped his head in that way he does when an idea has come upon him, his hands squeezing an imaginary baseball in front of him, before he suggested (ordered) that someone should stay to begin the ecological restoration work that no scientist on Bajor yet had the time for. Jadzia had taken a moment to work through all the reactions that all her selves had to this—those parts of her she attributed unconsciously to Lela and Curzon were the sinking-gut feeling, unhappy at the prospect of spending so many months doing field-work in near-solitude. But Jadzia was the feeling in her heart that lightened—who perhaps found the thought of camping alone in alien mountains somewhat thrilling.

But within a couple months she had made the enemy of the dairy-engineers after freeing a hara cat from a thorn-trap which had then proceeded to make off with a silver-goat whose horns were ready for milking. The ensuing fight when the engineers had discovered that it was the alien from Starfleet who was responsible for the loss of a prize milk-producing animal was only prevented from going bad in a “permanent” way because a Major sent that day to the settlement by the provisional government had fired a ear-busting warning blast into the air.

Kira, then a stranger, had given a Jadzia the most bewildered look when it was explained what the fight was about.

“Are you kidding me?” she had asked, one hand on her hip, twisting heavily on the heel of her boot in the crunching dirt. “A hara cat? You let a hara cat loose?”

Jadiza had simply spit a mouthful of blood to the ground, grinned, and said, “All thing have to eat.”

Kira has stared at her, jaw working, large, dark eyes shielded by the wide brim of her hat. Then she had promised the group of resentful workers that she would “take care” of Jadzia, which ended up being a half-hearted lecture about not starting any fights and then a thousand curious questions about the hara cat she had freed.

So Jadzia had continued her work of monitoring the ecosystem of the area, of working to understand it and understand the ways the creatures all moved and behaved and lived, despite the desertion of good soil in the plains below the highlands, and Kira remained her reluctant champion for her efforts. The tension between Jadzia and the people of the settlement was largely assuaged by Kira’s backing and by the fact that when Jadzia came into town she would look after the children and share with them her collection of fallen moth-wings, shedded and laced around a decomposing cactus. But many Bajorans weren’t happy with Jadzia still.

“The reclamators still haven’t arrived yet, have they?” asked Druner.

“Not that I’m aware of,” answered Jadzia honestly, wishing not for the first time there was something else she could say on the subject.

“Well I’m glad you’re trying your best, anyway,” he said bitterly. “Unless…”

Jadzia said nothing.

“When’s your captain coming back?” he continued. “Still making friends with Vedeks? Keeping with the higher ups?”

“I don’t know when he is returning.”

“Meaning, he probably won’t.”

“Meaning I don’t know.”

Druner snorted and moved a little closer to her. Her hand automatically drifted nearer her hip, where he phaser hung.

“Maybe you people should stop playing around,” he said. “Can’t get us the reclamators. Can’t divert funds or manpower. All Starfleet can do is leave us you. So you can satisfy you curiosity.”

“I’m not here for you, Druner,” said Jadzia, hardening her voice.

“Yeah, I know.” His hand fell on his weapon. “That’s the fucking problem.”

Jadzia’s heart raced but she was itching for something, after months of living like this, of being an outsider, of being grounded, of being an officer who serves no appreciable purpose. She narrowed her eyes. The air was thick.

“Step away.”

Kira was suddenly there, just over Druner’s shoulder.

Druner didn’t budge, his glare forging deeper lines into his face.

“I said,” Kira raised her voice as the whole room began to quiet. “Step away from her.”

Druner took the tiniest step back, his expression twitching with new self awareness. Jadzia smirked, just a little. Druner froze, smirked back, then threw the first punch.

~

The stars were out. How Jadzia loved to look at them. High up in her lonely camp, beneath the stone carved of ancient geological forces, on her measly mat, as the fire died down, and the only sound in the air was the night-wind and the simple tunes she could play on her mouth-organ, the stars filled the emptiness—reminded her that emptiness, in fact, did not exist.

The crunch of approaching footsteps alerted her to a visitor but she kept her sore face turned up to the sky. Only one person ever visited her camp in the mountains.

“I’m starting to get sick of pulling you out of fights,” said Kira, softly, emerging from the dry brush, her dark eyes lit by starlight and the dying embers of Jadzia’s fire.

Jadzia shrugged and finished off her slow tune on the organ. “Sometimes they’re just looking for someone to punch.”

“No, Druner definitely hates you.”

Jadzia turned and looked up at Kira who was staring into the fire, arms crossed.

“Not as much now,” said Jadzia, keeping her smile small to avoid re-busting her busted lip.

Kira sighed and then crouched to stir the flames. She tossed another log onto the fire and then sat by Jadzia’s hip.

“You don’t have to do that for them.” She still wouldn’t look directly into Jadzia’s face. “You don’t have to serve that purpose.”

“I have to serve some purpose.”

“No,” snapped Kira. “You don’t.”

Jadzia was quiet.

“What did Shakaar want?” she asked, too afraid to touch the fervor lurking under Kira’s voice and skin.

Kira fidgeted with the ends of her jacket, gaze down. “He found out that there’s a single Vedek holding up the transfer of reclamators to the Tanis plains. Seems like she’s been campaigning to have them used in areas with a better hope of recovery. Captain Sisko is doing all he can to have more engineered but already this demand is…driving a wedge.” She sighed again. “I’m not good at this kind of work. I was never a politician. I just want…”

She cut herself off and then looked up. Jadzia followed the long line of her neck back to the stars.

“People look at a place like this and see everything it isn’t,” said Jadzia, eyes finding the small light of the Space Station orbiting just beyond most of Bajor’s satellites in the inky black-blue of the sky. “It’s not a rainforest or a wetland or an ocean. The creatures that live here are all spiny and subsist on relatively little. But all life yearns to grow.” She nudged Kira’s leg playfully, twisting a little to see her face better. “This place will flourish again, Nerys.”

“That a promise?”

“It’s a professional opinion,” said Jadzia. “I’m a Science Officer. I’m full of them. Professional opinions.”

Kira’s tense, worried features slipped into a grin. She rolled her eyes and then finally looked down at Jadzia. Jadzia tried to smile back without making her lip bleed.

“Flourish?” Kira repeated, falling back onto the ground and turning on her hip to face Jadzia.

“Of course. Until, well, the eventual heat-death of the universe. Or probably when your sun turns into a red-giant. Or maybe there’s a climate crisis on the horizon that no reclamator can fix.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Change is going to happen,” said Jadzia. “That’s all I can say.”

“In the meantime,” said Kira. She reached out a hand, hesitated, then continued. Her rough fingertips landed delicately on Jadzia’s cheek, moving back to trace her spots, push a strand of greasy hair behind Jadzia’s ear, before settling warm on her jaw. Jadzia, throughout it all, didn’t breathe. “In the meantime,” Kira said again, softer this time. “You have to stop getting hurt. The hara cats need you. And the guerto lizards. And the needle-covered moths. And the wild palukoo-deer.”

“No,” said Jadzia, her heart thumping loud enough in her chest to scare her. “None of them need me. That’s kind of the point. They’re all smart. They’re all survivors.”

“Then I do, Jadzia,” said Kira simply.

And Jadzia couldn’t not kiss her.

She fell atop Kira’s body, finding her mouth quick enough to steal her last breath, and Kira’s fingers slid from her jaw to the back of her head, clenching.

“Finally,” Kira gasped against Jadzia’s lips.

“You could’ve said,” said Jadzia, kissing the iron-ridge of Kira’s nose before falling back to her mouth.

“I’m not that sort of brave.”

Jadzia kissed her again, feeling too big suddenly for everything that she was—feeling for the first time like she needed another body to hold it all.

It wasn’t difficult to be brave out in the remote arid land of Bajor’s newly-liberated planet. The Occupation hung like moonlight, the history clung like salt, and everywhere you walked in the desert was the sound of your footsteps, the sound of your weight, reminding you over and over that you can be heard, witnessed, found, and eaten. But it also wasn’t difficult to be a coward, to let your mind habituate to the greatness of everything else so you never have to look inside. Jadzia, spending her long, lonely days tallying the birth-rates of guerto lizards in their various dwellings on the mountainside, always found she could be both.

And perhaps she would allow herself to interfere with this subject of study—move beyond the realm of objective observer. She did so with the hara cat in the thorns.

And Kira, like this land, was a creature too fascinating to not give her attention.

#kiradax #ds9 #star trek #ds9 but as a western

[batterymaster01]

Shovelfolk Agriculture & Cuisine

Some common dishes in the cultures of the Shovelfolk (Astutocentaurus alluvium).

The Shovelfolk are sometimes regarded as the "inventors of agriculture" by the other native sapients. In addition to their surprisingly advanced metallurgic techniques and masonry, they have been farming for over 3 million years, countless eons before most of the other currently extant native sapients even came to be. Quite a few of the planet's most widely used crops, such as the wheat-like réhä used to make bread, are believed to have originally been invented by their people.

Shovelfolk are similar to the more cosmopolitan Fauns in that they are omnivores, eating mostly starchy vegetation supplemented by some quantity of meat, eggs, and fruit. Due to the ample supply of water and minerals offered by the Takaran River, most Shovelfolk cultures are almost obligately agricultural, relying on both the running water of the river and the fertile land on the riverbank to grow their own food. Like many Astutocentaurine cultures, there is a conspicuous lack of dairy in the diets of Shovelfolk, since none of the known animals on Athyrmagaia lactate in a mammalian fashion.

To disrupt the local ecosystem as little as possible, the majority of the crops they grow are derived from species native to the area. The most common crops in their daily regimen are réhä and hetūt, the former a grain-like species of star grass and the latter an edible root. Réhä is used in a similar manner as wheat, often being ground up and then baked to make bread, whereas hetūt is more akin to a potato or turnip and can be eaten either raw or cooked. They also use zhėgel, a more primitive, water-intensive plant vaguely similar to sugarcane, to make various simple sweet treats. In addition to terrestrial crops, they also use the mineral-rich waters of the Takara to cultivate various freshwater aquatic plants as a food source. The leaves of zhattrekekc aquaphytes are used in much the same way as the leaves of lettuce, and the seeds of secondarily aquatic hehhel plants are used as a peppercorn-like seasoning.

Although mainly farmers of locally grown produce, Shovelfolk have also been known to forage for food both near and beyond the riverbank, as well as engage in occasional trade with other cultures for more exotic ingredients. During their annual pilgrimages in search of resources, namely the metals found near volcanoes, they often either harvest (or purchase) foreign spices and herbs to bring home, including those used for medicines that cannot be found in their homeland. Those who live near the coasts often travel closer to shore to harvest sea salt as a condiment and a food preservative. When harvesting fruit, which is relatively rare in the Western Weave, they will rely on the help of allied Oliphaunts, since the only plants that bear palatable fruit in the region are enormous umbrynoids that are often too tall for the tiny Shovelfolk to scale on their own.

Unlike many other agricultural peoples, Shovelfolk do not raise livestock for meat. Their primary source of carnal cuisine is a selectively bred species of tumeofauna known locally as "mėbé." Although it is technically an animal, mėbé grows and behaves more like sessile fungi, which means it is considered a "crop" rather than a form of livestock. Mėbé is farmed underground within the warren in a special higher-humidity chamber, where it is kept fed by organic refuse. Mėbé nodes are usually either eaten raw or cooked, and are a common ingredient of more savory Shovelfolk meals. That being said, they do still make ample use of other animal products as food and resources. Their sole livestock animal, the crawpig, regularly lays infertile eggs that are often eaten as a delicacy and used to make dough, and some of their more unusual dishes are given flavor by being boiled in the animal's urine. Shovelfolk are also known to eat fish and insects, and they will often sun-dry worms to eat as a snack.

#speculative biology #athyrmagaia #sophont #xenobiology #Astutocentaurini #Shovelfolk