#gears of a mad god wiki

[teaveetamer]

I'm sorry, Raxis has a history of sporking fic? He has a TVTROPES page about it?

Then literally, aside from defending his saintly waifu.png's delicate honour, grounds - moral or otherwise - does he have to stand on? He knows what the purpose of sporking is, in theory. He should know that sometimes it's just about discussing a fic, thematically, in depth, to see what it says or how it fails to say them, instead of just plain mockery.

Or maybe it's that he's only ever sporked a fic to insult or send harassment towards the 'cringe' author, so he's unable to comprehend that anyone else might do it for any other reason.

I'm sure Raxis thinks he's the main character and all, but even this is way more transparently hypocritical than usual.

YEEEEEEEEEEP. He even wrote his own little character profile on the Das Sporking TV tropes page. Which was a community primarily geared toward mocking Twilight and Fifty Shades originally, so you might not be off about the "sporked fic just to insult or send harassment towards the 'cringe author'".

Also like here's the thing. He's gonna claim it was a long time ago, and that's true, but he's 35. He was also editing the Das Sporking TV tropes page back in 2013, 2014, and 2015, which means he was at least 24 or 25 and active in these communities. The earliest he could have possibly joined up is 2009, when he was like 21, given this entry:

Where Raxis writes that his first spork/intended spork was the Sword Art Online light novel, which was released in 2009 in Japan and 2014 in America?

Also he's still editing the pages. He only marked himself down as "retired" last month when people started calling him out for being a hypocrite for trying to shit talk BWIIDT when he was an active sporker himself.

Also you're? Still doing it? You're LITERALLY sporking a fic right now. YOU CALL IT A SPORK. Like yes if this was just some dumbass shit he did as a teen or even a twenty-something then I wouldn't bother bringing it up, but he's still doing it. So uh yeah, it's still relevant? Especially when you spend most of your fucking Reyna sporks whining about what a big ol meaaaaaaaaaaaaanie BWIIDT is for... pointing out racism and sexism.

Like you, a cishet white man, spent your 20's when you were a grown ass man, in a community apparently known for shitting on teenage girls who like Twilight and you appear to have done no reflection or growth on that.

I did cringe and offensive and ignorant shit ten years ago too (granted I was an actual teenager ten years ago). Like, I definitely had some weird hangup about Demisexuality. Thank GOD I don't think I ever posted any of it publicly. And now ten years later I'm not such an ignorant fuckwad and I don't think or say those things anymore. You know what I don't do? Claim to have learned from and regret my mistakes, continue to post demi-phobic shit all over my social media accounts, and then get mad at people for calling out my hypocrisy because "you're bringing up stuff I did ten years ago!"

It was ten years ago but shit ain't changed, so why wouldn't your past behavior still be relevant? Especially since you were old enough to know better then, and you're sure as shit old enough to know better now.

Also I just want to point out the irony of Raxis breaking THE FIRST RULE of the Das Sporking wiki with his sporks

Sooo you had no idea linking to a fic directly could possibly cause harassment, huh? That was just a big oopsie on your part?

He doesn't give a shit about Reyna's fic. He just views it as a way to dunk on the "Edelcrits" and specifically BWIIDT, which is why he CONSTANTLY brings up BWIIDT in his posts about Reyna (I've seen a few more snippets). Like he genuinely thinks it hurts our feelings when he mocks a fic none of us had ever even fucking heard of before. It doesn't, it just makes him look like a massive fucking tool.

And like I pointed out in this post, BWIIDT started talking about Cap's fic because people were out here shoving it down fandoms' throat and insisting it was "essential" to understand canon. Like it was getting recc'd to Joe fucking Zieja, and it has SO MANY problematic elements. Racism, sexism, homophobia, etc. I won't rehash them all.

What even are Raxy's criticisms of Reyna's fic, other than "it's cringe", "I don't like how she writes Edelgard", and "BWIIDT hurt my feelings by talking about a fic I like"? And again, what the fuck does this random fic author have to do with anything BWIIDT has done? If your issue is with BWIIDT then why do you insist on dragging a random person in for no fucking reason?

[rottingraisins]

CAIN PATHOS CROW!! Don't know what's up with that dude, but my god does he seem fun.

HE IS SUPER FUN im kind of guilty of not drawing him that much but whenever he is in anything I enjoy him immensely. My buddy ol’ pal kpc

fav thing: EASILY the most mad scientist out of all the scp doctors next to maybe mann. This dog has committed so many crimes against humanity. Never ask a woman her age a man his salary and Professor Kain Pathos Crow about project olympia

least fav thing: uhhh nothing rlly! Hes a pretty tightly written character with mostly consistent characteritzation across the wiki overall imo. Newer lolfoundation-nostalgia type tales where all the author seems to be able to do with him is put him in wacky dog situations™ suck sometimes but everyones characterization sucks in those so like. i just ignore em

favorite line: (abt extracting someones soul from their body) Hah! I've done it! It wasn't that hard.

BrOTP: Him and gears again probably though id love a tale or two about him and elliott... what can i say im a sucker for when the senior staff get protegès and also victim of experiment gone horribly wrong solidarity wohoo

OTP: /

nOTP: /

random headcanon: classical revival is so generally not very good but I like the idea that the dog whos body Kain ended up in used to be his guide dog that kind of goes hard in a sad fucked up way

unpopular opinion: /

song: /

fav pic: HAS COMMITTED UNSPEAKABLE ATROCITIES every time I think about crow I think about has committed unspeakable atrocities

#not art #ask game

[finiffy]

ok ok more hcs. iceberg edition:

so i dont wanna go look at the thing that tells us all the gods rn so idk if it said that out icy boi is a god or not so have my hc explaining him as a god;

iceberg is seen as gears' lover, a mortal who was given powers by gears himself as a courting gift (his inhuman coldness) and they were together for years and years. so when gears disappeared (hc underway dont come at me) iceberg went into a depression and stories say that he froze a part of the atlantic ocean to await his lover, eventually cocooning himself in an actual iceberg. stories say the day that he thaws is the day that gears returns.

ok that was my hc come back next time where i either explain gerald or gears and his family issues.

- ps5 anon

Ooooo! I like this alot!! With Iceberg being a mortal is good (the stupid wiki does not mention his existence at all and I was mad at it). The people refer them as a tragic lovers story between god and mortal and the lessons in it

I think with Geyre/Gears he was the one who ascends first, and reach his godhood and with that helped Iceberg. I do find it cool that he is referred as the chief of the gods, meaning he has really reached the top of the hierarchy

#fin answers #ps5 anon

[absoluteangsty]

♔ @defectedrockstar

URL: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 Theme: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 Content: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 Characterization: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 Do we rp?: Yes | No Would I rp with you?: Yes | No

Why I followed:

So honestly, I got curious with Hi-Five Rush. I have heard people think its an awesome game. I still need to watch a lets play of it. The style is amazing, same with characters. And I maaay have read upon the wiki here and there. I like reading on things that strike my interests and well... I got into a deep dive head first. No cap, no brim. I have a soft spot for indie games and rhythm games (Mad Rat Dead is one of these things, love that game). I need to kick my ass and watch a play through.

Why you should follow them:

GUYS PLEASE FOLLOW AIDEN!! He is super sweet and fun to talk to! Really takes a passion onto writing as a whole! This includes his OCs too! Even plotting is really fun! Gets my gears turning on what to do. Plus bonding over fun shenanigans on Uzi and Chai? Awesome. You guys will not be disappointed when interacting with Aiden

Tips to Improve (from the theme to posts):

Honestly, I can't think of something tooo major? I know that you are slowly working on the pages for everyone and such. I do like the comic book like feel to the theme. Fits Chai!

Final Thoughts:

Hi Aiden!! I just wanna say that you are a super cool guy! I consider you to be one of my besties for sure! I enjoy our interactions via rps and just dms. Discovering a new things (Like the HD Zelda shit because good god-) and just memes in general. Also I love Uzi and Chia's dynamic?? Smol goth girl with her rockstar?? Yah, they are both dorks I love them. Never a dull moment with them or with ya!

#the man behind it all // ooc #letters behind the doors // asks #defectedrockstar

[girldraki]

for the character thing. uh. either iceberg or tally ran

iceberg edition:

favorite thing: how much he fucking sucks? hes just so terrible and constantly grasping for power and, at times, Actively Breaking Foundation Rules to do so as if that'll actually help him. god he's the best

least favorite: OH MY GOD. PASSIVEBERG. if your character exhibits exactly one symptom of mild depression and literally, non-figuratively enacts the Guess I'll Die meme when their PRIMARY CHARACTER TRAITS have been being a spiteful bitch the whole time you need to fucking give up and start over. Also obligatory "ruined everyones goddamn iberg characterizations and via sex at frigid temp character assassinated the gearberg dynamic"

also the misogyny that's not very cool

fanon pet peeves:

already elaborated on: we're sorry we have to be little bitches about gearberg or we die. It's literally easier to find "uhm gearberg is overrated + toxic actually" takes than fucking gearberg content. we are so tired

....new.... complaints...: we've said SO MUCH about fanon ibergs that this will be generally hard. uhhhh. i mean its sort of covered in the previous bullet but even platonically it makes us sad when people write icebergs who actively hate gears. like thats just his weird boss.. he doesnt actually have a reason to hate him other than You Think He Needs An Antagonist.. we are biased but also right

talloran edition:

favorite thing: theyre the best thing to come from the wretched place that is the scp wiki and we love them sooo much and yes we did take our melatonin before we started writing this. but omg theyre so strong <3

least favorite thing: that tale from august that was essentially the talloran 2 thing (guy who thought of frankenstein first voice) but like. in a vaguely ableist Not Right In The Head And Therefore Bad way. bestie theyve been fucking tormented

fanon pet peeves:

previously discussed: the amnestics thing. me after JUST ESCAPING Unreality Nightmare 3 Million Years: hm today i will degrade my own sense of perception

not heretofore articulated (doing synonyms is getting hard): the problem with THIS one is that theres just not a whole lot of talloran takes we get actively mad at out of what talloran content exists. oh well. we get annoyed by how the only people anyone writes them interacting with are draven, kondraki, and sometimes clef? even within that family unit theres 1-3 meris to talk to including one that (blank are shilling) would have really interesting perspective on their situation, pspsps,

#ask #abc-ia

[thanksjro]

Spotlight: Hoist - This One’s About the Guy I Keep Mistaking for Hound.

It’s time to focus on the straight man. Not, like, straight as in hetero. Don’t get it twisted, Hoist is queer by default just like every Cybertronian in IDW, not that that’s been established in-canon just yet. No, Hoist is the straight man because he’s the grounding line in this issue.

Hoist, as established during Spotlight: Trailcutter, is off the Lost Light currently on a mission. At this exact moment, he’s running from something.

Well, it was nice knowing you, Hoist!

No, he manages to escape Tarn’s grasp by doing some sweet grappling hook drifting using his tow line, and books it for the crashed shuttle that all his fellow mission-goers are hiding out in. Missionaries, if you will. Looks like Swerve left right after Trailcutter hung up on him, so it’s probably for the best that he didn’t get that forcefield around his voice box. Can’t imagine it working at that long a range. Sunstreaker’s here, along with his pet, Bob. Sunstreaker’s feeling a little salty right now, probably because he’s supposed to be the handsome one, and instead he’s got some sort of face thing going on in this issue.

Yeah, nobody looks quite right in Spotlight: Hoist. Then again, maybe I just don’t get Cybertronian beauty standards.

On that note, let’s take a real quick look at our interior artist for this issue, Agustin Padilla. Padilla doesn’t have a ton of work within the Transformers franchise, but he’s worked on some iconic pieces- specifically, MTMTE #16, The Gloaming. 

Yeah, THAT one. We’ll get more into his work when we hit that issue, I promise.

Back to the story at hand: Hoist puts on the cloaking device for the ship, hiding them from Tarn, then gripes to Swerve about the scanner scope being a huge friggin’ liar, because it said that there wasn’t a gotdang thing out there, because there clearly is. Swerve is less than thrilled by the prospect of having Tarn in the general vicinity, to the point that he forgets how to talk for a solid .5 seconds. Swerve’s seen the DJD in action, and it’s not pretty.

They’ve got six hours before the cloaking shields drain the power, then it’s goodbye Safetytown, hello Murderville. So, what better way to spend their final hours than by sniping at one another over things like fault and who’s gotten the shortest end of the stick here?

Looks like Perceptor has a pretty strong lead on all the other guys, seeing as his legs have become one with the ship. Hoist’s busy trying to get in touch with the Lost Light, though no one’s picking up. Gee, wonder why.

Swerve is really in a needling mood, as he asks Sunstreaker where his apology is, seeing as he was the one piloting the ship when they crashed. Sunstreaker blows a gasket for a second over the fact that all he seems to do these days is apologize. Hoist manages to calm the situation and change the topic pretty smoothly, as he fiddles around with the internals of the shuttle to try and get the Lost Light’s attention.

Good at multitasking, Hoist is.

We get the backstory on Bob, who Sunstreaker found after Metroplex woke up and decimated the local Insecticon population on Cybertron, almost certainly upsetting the balance of the ecosystem and traumatizing poor Bob. Yes, even our dog stand-ins have trauma in MTMTE. Sunstreaker, in true pet-owner fashion, baby-talks Bob, saying that he’ll bite that big, nasty Tarn if he gets near them, won’t he? Oh yes he will! Yes he will! What a good boy, yes you are!

Swerve isn’t so optimistic.

Well, that’s certainly a sentence I just read with my own two eyes. Really hoping this is a bit of hyperbole, because I’d hate to think just what sort of life Swerve’s led that resulted in him watching a guy triple his size give himself an enema.

Sunstreaker, who knows that Swerve is kind of a massive baby, isn’t terribly impressed with how scared the DJD made Swerve, accidentally strokes the guy’s ego for a moment.

Swerve, completely on the defensive now, lists off the five things he’s afraid of. Hoist butts in to point out the implausibility of Swerve’s fears.

Smash cut to four hours later, and Swerve hasn’t slowed down a bit, having talked to the point that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore. Sunstreaker’s about had it with this marathon bashing he’s receiving, and suggests that Swerve pick on Hoist for a change. Swerve declines, saying that there just isn’t enough material to work with, because Hoist is boring.

Fun fact, this is his character quote for his introductory paragraph on the Wiki article. He had so little characterization up to this point, this is what they went with. Such is the fate of many of the Transformers who didn’t enter the original 80s cartoon until the second season. Roberts decided to run with it and take the rare opportunity to NOT give someone mental illness so severe and unchecked it’s simultaneously sad and hilarious. Hoist is probably the only dude in the entirety of the IDW run to just be a regular person.

After Swerve confirms that he does in fact know his colors, we blow past another hour, to find Hoist hard at work cutting Perceptor off of the ceiling/floor- Hoist, like most everyone on the Lost Light, is a doctor- as Sunstreaker and Swerve discuss previous scrapes they’ve gotten through. Apparently Sunstreaker fell off a bridge forever ago that was named after a biblical reference, because it doesn’t matter how little you believe in a higher power, you CANNOT escape the pull of the 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜.

Swerve asks Hoist if he has anything to contribute to the discussion, and while Hoist does have experience in near-death situations, he’d really rather not talk about it. Swerve respects his privacy.

Well, he tries.

Hoist indulges our little red and white idiot, because it’ll get everyone the Swerve-equivalent of peace and quiet, and begins his tale.

Long story short, it looks like another hotshot pilot had the same idea as Hoist’s, and things got a little crashy-explodey-everyone’s-deady. Hoist was the only survivor, and had to walk his sorry butt back to civilization. Then the exhaustion set in, and he was forced to sit there, fully convinced that he would die alone in the middle of nowhere.

Once he’s finished with his story, Hoist makes the horrific discovery that Swerve’s been bleeding to death over the last five hours, and failed to mention it.

No, Sunstreaker, he’s honestly just like that all the time.

Swerve’s spark casing has ruptured, which I can only imagine is somewhat similar to having a hole poked in your heart. A problem, to put it lightly. Sunstreaker and Hoist decide that, to keep Swerve from biting it, they’ll take the fight to the DJD, in an attempt to get some sort of transport back to the Lost Light and all the tasty medical equipment on board.

Man, it really is unfortunate that Rung’s still not got a head at this point in the timeline, because Swerve is like a jelly donut filled with self-loathing. God just took a jumbo-sized bakery syringe and jammed it right in there.

Hoist and Sunstreaker ignore Swerve’s protests/pained screaming, and gear up for a fight with what they can find. Hoist manages to make two working crossbows and a butt-ton of arrows, not to mention a couple bowie knives in about five minutes, and they head out to kick some tushie.

The lads split up, keeping in touch via communicators, and Sunstreaker manages to get found by Tarn. He gets his ass kicked, because of course he does- the DJD aren’t famous for their macramé and pies, they’re famous for super-murder and being horny for the Decepticause. As Sunstreaker has the realization that he’s leaving his beloved Bob behind, Hoist finds him. Sunstreaker’s in quite the pickle, because he’s had his chest blown in, and Tarn’s been replaced by Shockwave, Megatron, Sixshot, and Overlord.

This just gets better and better doesn’t it?

Then this happens:

Welp.

Swerve’s theory may hold some water, but we can’t worry about that right now, because Hoist is going to try and fight this bastard. Good luck with that, Hoist.

Yeah, that went about as well as it could have.

Hoist is about to get stomped like a bug, when the Con-biner suddenly phases out of existence. Weird.

Hoist runs back to the shuttle, I guess just leaving Sunstreaker in the middle of that clearing, even though he literally is a tow truck. He returns to find that Swerve’s passed out from blood loss, but Perceptor’s still awake, which is good, because there’s some grade-A bullshit going on on this planet, and we need the smart guy to info-dump for the sake of the plot.

Man, this is such a cool plot device, and I’m so mad it never comes up again after this Spotlight.

So, Tarn and all the big bads that Hoist ran into weren’t real, but projections of his and his team’s worst fears. It was feeding off of Swerve, but now that he’s down for the count, it’ll probably go for either Hoist or Perceptor next.

Then there’s what feels like an earthquake, one so powerful it finally removes Perceptor from the ceiling, letting what’s left of his body fall. Hoist runs outside to see just what the hell’s happening now, only to find Metroplex outside and closing in.

The phobia shields work on sub-sentient creatures too? Good lord, this thing just never stops, does it?

Thinking quickly, Hoist scoops up Swerve and the upper half of Perceptor and bolts for the edge of the cliff their ship is sitting next to. He must have been training for the Robot Olympics or something, because he makes the leap by a large margin, even when weighed down by two limp bodies.

Then he punches Perceptor in the face, knocking him out cold.

Then he commits an act of animal abuse as he knocks Bob out with his tow hook.

Our hero, folks! Let’s give him a hand!

As Metroplex fades out of existence, Hoist remembers that he is not immune to trauma, as he’s forced to sit there, completely alone, until help arrives.

No wonder he got that massive Rodimus Star. What a trooper.

Thus ends Spotlight: Hoist, as well as the Spotlight series as a whole.

So, Swerve may not have much of a read on Hoist, but I figure I can try and take a stab at it. Hoist is… helpful. The entire issue, he’s the one who never stops doing things. If he’s not trying to repair the shuttle, he’s cutting Perceptor out of the floor, or he’s patrolling the perimeter, or trying to defuse the tension between his crewmates, or building weaponry, or punching people in the face for the greater good.

The folks he’s surrounded with for his Spotlight accent the characteristics he lacks- he’s not insanely smart like Perceptor, or strikingly handsome like Sunstreaker is intended to be, or capable of holding a conversation like Swerve. He blends into the background, always has and always will, both within canon and as a character.

He’s just a guy. He’s the guy,  a jack of all trades, master of none. And that’s okay.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #spotlight #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing #overthinking about robots

[montyrakusen]

Voices in the Wind, the Northern Isles of Shetland Part 3

I awoke one morning in someone else’s flat and I couldn’t remember how I got there. My friend, fellow art student, Ceri Herington Pritchard  https://ceripritchard.com/  decided we should go on an adventure.

"Let's go north" I said, and we did. We decided on Shetland, as it was as far north as we could think of going in the UK. It was October and cold, wintery, and Ceri let all the camping gas escape in Aberdeen before we had even got on the ferry. We didn’t have outdoor clothes like we have today. Ceri had a greatcoat and I had a tank driver's jacket, probably from the Korean war, that I’d stolen from the Combined Cadet Force at school.  

When we arrived in Lerwick we headed north striding out as fast as we could. They were building the Sullom Voe oil terminal and the flat barren wind-swept landscape was dotted with ex red London double decker buses ferrying workers to the construction site, the destination windows read, Moorgate, Archway, Liverpool Street Station and so forth. We walked in a huge cavernous world of clouds coming from Greenland rising in the west and falling in the east with the sun shining through, highlighting the ceiling of our world and at sunset looked like God had appeared. I fell in a bog then it rained and there was freezing fog then I fell in a bog again.

On the 5th of November we were probably two of Europe’s most northerly campers, at the most northerly point of Shetland, a place where giants fought over the love of a mermaid, near the remote island of Muckle Flugga. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muckle_Flugga

Miserable, with teeth chattering and wet feet, I wore all the clothes I possessed and had to get up at 3am to crack the ice off my tent. On another night because of a storm we slept in a cement store hut and upon waking covered in dust looked like ghosts. One night, camped on a windy beach we were kept awake by boulders rolling in the surf. It was always spine chillingly cold and was only relieved by whisky in friendly pubs that felt like someones front room and there was usually a fidler. These experiences only gave me a love for this beautiful and remote place in the middle of the North Sea.

Nowhere is more than a mile from the sea on Northern Shetland and it is almost tree-less. Small crofts are dotted here and there with flapping, coloured, washing drying on lines, fishing boats far out at sea and the smell of burning peat on the wind. In those days the place was littered with abandoned rusting vehicles and the sides of the roads were covered in empty beer cans with the smiling face of Venetia Stevenson looking up at us https://www.cannyscot.com/SweetheartStout.htm, people built walls from un-returnable beer barrels and crofts lay derelict. Later, I believe, a vicar ordered a ship to take all the scrap away. No matter what the weather there was always some hardy soul out in the landscape, a small moving dot in the distance digging the peat, driving the sheep, rowing a boat. If you listened carefully there were voices on the wind.

I loved this wonderful strange place and began to plan a photo documentary. I first returned and shot it in 35mm colour transparency with the hope of printing it up in Ciba Chrome of which I was a big fan. Unfortunately the processing lab put a scratch through every roll of film and in those days it was impossible to retouch.

Each year I would return, shooting medium format black and white first with Hasselblad and then later Rollie 6006/8 and I gradually built up a collection of images searching for the essence of the place. I became friends with people there, the local doctor from Mid Yell and some people who looked after otters. They recognised me in the pubs.

Some years I walked the islands, some years I took my blue Landrover with its home made stereo and two cassettes that I bought in Aberdeen, The Smiths, Meat is Murder and Elvis Costello, Almost Blue. I drove around in the simmer dim the grey evening light, eventually knowing both albums by heart. The RAF invited me to their mid-summer beach party, it never got dark and in the morning I was dive bombed by bonxsies, mad sea birds, as I staggered around the landscape looking for fresh water. I fell in a bog again.

I was befriended by people who fed me boiled ham and potatoes, plied me with drink and had me shoot shotguns at empty cans thrown in the air. “Just mind the sheep, lad”. Coming out of the most northerly pub at half past eleven at night with the sun still shining in my eyes I stepped onto a Norwegian Trawler and got caught up in a fight. We sat in the mess as they fought round and round on the tables and each time they came past we clutched our drinks to our chests.

The photography project ran out of steam, my life had changed, I was busy at work, until Lizzie encouraged me to finish it and we travelled back there together to see Up Helly Aa, the ceremonial burning of the Viking longship https://www.uphellyaa.org/ and to show my work in progress to Shetland Arts with a view to exhibiting it. We stayed in Mid Yell in the snow with 125mph winds full of ice. Huge squalls blew in from the ocean flying low, dropping ice into the waves. When we were in Lerwick we were guests of the head of the Jarl squad, the viking leader of Up Helly Aa, a tremendous honour.

In the early morning, whilst he slept, we secretly tried on his Viking gear. I always felt welcome there and people were kind. An exhibition was arranged in Lerwick, British Airways helped me fly it up and then it travelled all over Scotland. I was interviewed by a lovely lady with small round John Lennon Spectacles from Radio Shetland, only problem was I could hardly understand a word she said. The exhibition opening was very well attended from islands far and wide, made more impressive by the fact no one could get back home to their islands until the ferries restarted in the morning. I felt proud when they said I had shown their home to them in a different way.

Text edit: John Coombes Encouragement: Liz Rakusen

#shetland #yell #unst #fetlar #voices

[wintermutal]

Will unnamed gears story get a name?

yeah, eventually. i’ve kind of been thinking of naming it after a song again, but found myself going back to a band i listened to durning my emo phase in middle school for some reason (like.....yikes am i right), but in that context it would either be “The Prisoner” (from the very, very angry and fearful sounding song of the same name) or some kind of reference to “Cold”, both by Tears for Fears (they were the ones who made the absolute rebellious teenaged jam “Shout” that gets played on the radio now and again? or “Mad World”, the edgy anthem of my life ages 11-13 that includes such Deep middle school reflections as ‘the dreams in which i’m dying are the best ive ever had’? eh). 

“The Prisoner” was released within the same five year range that this tale’s being set and has a chaotic urban vibe that jams with the tale, so that’s a plus, but it’s very Emo(tm). “Cold” is a straight up jam, but is it The Gear? we just dont know. this is a big decision for me there must be at least four (4) layers of shit behind what i name my stories. 

like, this is gonna be an emo ass tale. like ive run the plot by a couple friends who have said that it sounds pretty solid and not at all as cringy as i feel it comes off when i work on it, but its....really running the risk here. like u ever write something and as ur writing it ur like ‘this is awful, like really terrible, like honly shit this is Big Cringe’, but you cant stop and slowly witness urself getting more and more serious about it? like without getting too into it it involves some pretty ludicrous connections to real world events and like....god i remember reading this one scp in the ‘in deletion’ tag on the wiki a few years back and it was like nine (9) sentences and was just the plane that caused 9/11. like that was it. the person who wrote it was like, 10, and it was their first scp, so its completely excusable, but i cant help looking at this and being like ‘oh god is this gonna be like the 9/11 plane scp?? is this what this is gonna be??’. like with Rituals, thats a solid ass story. ive spent a lot of time on it, its very thorough and respectable and i know for sure well executed. this is just something im doing on a whim bc it might look cool but also might end up being The Big Cringe. 

depending on the ending and where i decide to take it (if i decide to actually write it, i mean) i might throw it in broken masquerade and see how it does, because its just that particular kind of ‘real world tragic event scp tie in’ that it might fare better there. 

back on the name tho i could just name it ‘untitled gears story’. thats pretty Edgy 

#untitled gears story #im gonna have to go back and change the tag once i actually decide on a name #vandal.txt #scp wiki writing #Anonymous

[mcintyreanker]

Lovelyfiction MMORPG : Rebirth Of The Strongest Guild Master txt - Chapter 146 - The Price advertisement wide-eyed suggest-p3

Awesomefiction fiction - Chapter 146 - The Price geese malicious quote-p3 Novel-MMORPG : Rebirth Of The Strongest Guild Master-MMORPG : Rebirth Of The Strongest Guild Master Chapter 146 - The Price peep work Ilovesmashing gulped .... Items had developed in a course he failed to anticipate them to acquire when it comes to. The idiot should have robbed someone in possesion of your jewel , is really what Ilovesmashing imagined , nonetheless it was more difficult for a person to acquire his i am just harmless take action when one among his men obtained aldready been implicated. Ilovesmashing gulped .... Factors obtained created in a route he failed to assume these people to create towards. The idiot will need to have robbed someone in possesion of your treasure , is precisely what Ilovesmashing believed , however it was more difficult for anyone to purchase his i am innocent react when one of his men had aldready been implicated. Pursuing this actual like , quite a few associates passed on the screening without any difficulty , for this reason other associates also queued up and took the exam. The guild possessed a demanding policy of passing over all loot which was attained by extortion into the guild storage place , where based on the valuation on merchandise provided , a coin benefit are going to be released for the people. On the other hand he wasnt greeted to the view of the unfilled place , instead 20 noble guards were there to restrain him , when he suddenly have a method concept. " You might have been apprehended because of the governing administration authorities for stealing national treasures associated with a neighbouring nation ..... Teleporting to jail in five...4...3...2..1". " Your money has long been handicapped and jailed for one week ". The noble secure produced him warning a document about the reliability of your treasure just where it reported " I recommend the respect of my guild and my guildmaster that this starting point of the treasure inside my hands is really as referred to ...". Nevertheless , Rumours pass on inside of the members circle which the guards would not concern the origin of your loot , in the event you just tell them they were offered by the guildmaster as being a compensate after finishing an activity. With regards to actual beginnings that they had not a clue. The guild had a rigorous insurance policy of passing total loot that has been received by extortion to the guild storage place , the place depending on the value of goods presented , a coin prize will be given towards the members. One of many Emmisary mentioned holding a jewel as part of his hand "One of the guild individuals has been around in posession in the losing out on loot and that he carries a sworn in testimony saying that it turned out given to him for a compensate because of the guildmaster ". The adventurer never read about someone else signing a real report , nonetheless it was only an indication , he signed it and proceeded to go out of your evaluating space. But as the coin reward was only 10% the products well worth , from time to time the subscribers stored a part of the loot with themselves with regards to gain a little bit more cash. Following this precise like , a lot of associates transferred the assessment without a issue , therefore other members also queued up and had the test. The eye brows with the Royal secure arched , he got almost thought that the full procedure was going to be a spend , the Demolitionboys searched too calm to get executed the heist , his knowledge shared with him they were harmless , even so now locating the confirmation , he was amazed for a secondly , however a great deal of his education as being a guard kicked in since he instantly regained his composure. Particularly when Ilovesmashing invited the crowd to arrive be section of the witnessing the investigation Rudra laughed soo tricky which he was required to leave behind the surrounding for a long time as his stomach area could not carry it any further. He desired a breather through the joking , even so the minute he emerged back , he saw INeedToSmash squirming and rolling on the floor while pretending to generally be greviously wronged , since he shouted ' Slander !, This is slander ! '. On the other hand , Rumors pass on in the participants group the fact that guards would not problem the foundation with the loot , in the event you just inform them that they were offered by the guildmaster like a prize after filling out a job. When it comes to exact beginnings that they had no idea. The adventurer complied when he aldready understood the explanations he was meant to say. On the other hand just in time INeedToSmash originated to save the day as he shouted " SLANDER!!! This can be slander in the righteous inhabitants of Hazelgroove , OO the INJUSTICE , the HERESAY ". Rage was noticeable in the Emmisary's sound as his tone of voice included a tint of wiping out intention. The shield asked " this treasure , where by have you attain it? " By natural means Ilovesmashing was aware that even though it was really a query , he is at no place to decrease , when he smiled and explained " be sure to adhere to me .... ". The Emmisary's from Nineclouds kingdom looked the container his or her sight shined upon seeking the jewels imprinted together with the insigna of Nineclouds empire , by natural means portion of the taken loot from Nineclouds royal vault. ( The actual elites guild headquarters ) Having said that difficulties originated whenever the event in which Karna and others provided up their loots voluntarily , arrived for those evaluating. The adventurer never heard about someone else putting your signature on this kind of report , nevertheless it was only a signal , he authorized it and proceeded to go out from the screening bedroom. In a natural way Ilovesmashing was aware that while it had been a concern , he was in no place to drop , while he smiled and mentioned " make sure you abide by me .... ". INeedToSmash clutched his coronary heart again and spoke within a serious sound " A scam , its a WITCH Search! ". " Your account has been disabled and jailed for 7 days ". The royal safeguard designed him signal a papers in regards to the genuineness with the gem the place it expressed " I endorse the recognize of my guild and my guildmaster that this origin of your gem around my fretting hand is usually as described ...". The adventurer never heard about others putting your signature on such a document , nevertheless it was only an indication , he authorized it and moved from the testing space. Frustration was obvious on the Emmisary's tone of voice as his voice contained a tint of getting rid of purpose.

#ull #Confiscation; An Outline #gears of a mad god wiki

[flannels-and-rocksalt]

Dreams Come True...and Nightmares do Too.

Request: Can you do one where you are Cas sister and Dean keeps having really bad dreams about you. He doesnt know what to do so cas helps and he finally finds you? Btw, I LOVE YOUR blog!!!

Requested by: @mrsackles101

Warnings: Language, horror

Y/H/C: Your hair color

Information from: http://the-demonic-paradise.wikia.com/wiki/Surgat

It always starts out the same. A beautiful girl sound asleep in her home, limbs completely covered by the blanket that was too orderly. Not a single wrinkle was on it and the girl was straight as a board. It was almost as if the bed was made around her. Curious if the pounding thump he heard was coming from female in the bed, he took a single step forward but stopped when a creak sounded from the corner. Hunter instincts took over the green-eyed Winchester, causing him to whip around fast enough to make his head spin. There, standing next to the female's bed, was a shadow figure with knifes for fingers, long, sharp, and dangerous. Dean was frozen in his spot by the entity before his eyes. That's when he realized that the sound of a fist on a drum was his heart ready to rip out of his chest.

"W-What do you want?" Dean would stutter out, his face pale and hairs raised. The power jolting from the monster was enough to power up an entire village. Ever so slowly, it raised a crooked finger and pointed to the sleeping human. "Her? Why her?" Even though the shadow never spoke, Dean kept prompting it with questions, seeing more red grow into his vision with each one. "Tell me, you son of a bitch!" Pain jolted through his head as a blood curdling scream erupted from the figure, but his finger never pointed in another direction.

Beneath the scream the words, "possess the girl," could barely be heard but it sent chills down his spine as he fell to the floor. Then....silence. He thought it was over...but when was a nightmare ever over? When you're someone like Dean, you fall asleep and a nightmare begins, but when you wake up it continues instead of ending. With no warning, the windows shattered as the sounds of hell rattled the walls. Screams of pain, torture, and fear mixed with the sobs of the damned as they were engulfed by the never ending flames.

Finally, Dean would wake with a start....only to have that same dream when he fell asleep later that night. Sweat soaked his clothes and tears streaked his face. Only one thought lingered in his mind each and every morning... What the hell was going on?

First, he tried to figure it out on his own. Many sleepless nights of researching for past possessions and anything that looked like the shadow figure in his dreams. Unfortunately, there was no break in the case. As much as he didn't like it, he tried sleeping as often as he could in hopes the dream would reveal something more. The only thing he received, though, was a better glimpse at the sleeping girl, but, after that, he woke up screaming, "help me!" And that...that is where it all began... 

                                               __________________

Sam busted into his brother's room, gun cocked and loaded. "Dean?" he yelled out, hitting his breaks when he saw Dean squeezing the sheets and panting. It was just a nightmare....? Gently, he sat on the edge of the bed and shook him. "Hey, hey, Dean, wake up...Dean! Dean, wake up!" Dean's body flung up straight, eyes wide and searching. "Dean, you're safe...Hey, you're safe..."

"W-We got to find her," Dean panted. "We have to find her!"

"What? Who? You're not making any sense!"

Shoving Sam's hands off of his shoulders, his feet hit the floor and carried him to his closet. As usual, he put on his normal attire, flannel and jeans, before grabbing his boots and phone. "Y/n..."

"Who?" The youngest Winchester followed his brother to the library, barely keeping up. "If you would just slow down-"

"We don't have time to slow down, Sam! If I don't find this girl, she is going to die! Horribly!" He slammed a large book down onto the table and began flipping through the pages as if he was timed, mumbling something to himself over and over again. But then....he stopped, froze in his place. "Surgat....Sam, have you heard of this name?"

He shook his head. "No, but-"

"Exactly," Dean interrupted, "That's because he's the lesser demon in the Inferno. It says here that Surgat is cunning and deceptive making him the most frightening and dangerous. Also know as "One Who Opens All Locks", reflects his nature and purpose, being able to understand and open any lock in the world. This makes it impossible for his targets to hide or escape from him. He thrives in dark places...the realm he is most fond of. Once he reaches his target, he will frighten them by presenting them with images that will drive them to madness....this is him..."

Sam, now absolutely baffled, was at a loss for words. "Who, Dean? Where did you see him!"

"My dream, damnit! This demon is after a girl named Y/n, and she's crying out for help! It makes sense though! In my dream, the room was pretty much pitch black and he came out of a locked closet. Screaming and-and crying! And the windows shattered! Y/H/C hair and beautiful facial features! And- Sam! Are you writing all this down?"

"What? No!" he exclaimed. "Dean you need to take a breath! We can't help you and you can't help that girl if you're running circles in your mind."

A soft sigh escaped his lips and collapsed into his seat. "Sam, something is going on...This girl...it's like I've seen her before...that face...I can't get it out of my mind."  Silence filled the room and for a split second, chaos was gone. Of course, it never lasted because everyone's mind was reeling for answers. Who ever got an idea, announced it out loud without a second guess. "Get Castiel. He can do his freaky angel shit and scan the world for every girl named Y/n."

"Do you realize how many girls will come up!" Sam shouted, exasperated.

"There are three of us! We can do it!"

"Fine, I'll call Cas, but Dean, it'll be too late-"

"Don't you dare say that! We will and can help this girl if Cas can get his feathery ass down here-"

A sudden change in the atmosphere cut the tension tenfold. The air seemed cooler and a slight breeze entered the room, blowing Sam's hair into his eyes. "You prayed?" a deep voice asked from behind the brothers. Castiel...finally.

Wasting no time, Dean jumped right into the situation. "Find every woman with the name of Y/n."

"I beg your pardon?" The angel's head tilted to side as his eyes squinted. Jokingly, everyone said that he looked like a confused puppy, but seeing it as often as the Winchester brothers did, they began to really see it.

"Females with the name of Y/n! Y/C/H hair!"

Castiel sighed....before pulling a picture out of the small wallet he kept his fake IDs in. All the color drained from Dean's face when he saw the picture. It was her. There was no mistaking it. Those features...the hair...and now that he finally saw her eyes...it was like the puzzle finally pieced its self together. Even in the picture, her eyes glittered.

"Cas...that's her! How did you know?" Dean gasped out. The gears in his mind were reeling. Did the nerdy little angel read his mind or was this a dream in itself? Everything seemed like fiction recently anyways.

"Her name is Y/N Novak...Jimmy Novak's sister. Considering he let me use him as a vessel, I promised to keep his family safe. I consider her my own sister. I keep watch over her on a weekly basis, but I haven't gotten any alarming vibes. Which makes me wonder, why are you getting them?"

Dean sighed and shrugged. "Who the hell knows, but we have to get to her. Now."

                                               ____________________

With sleep closing in on you quickly, it took all you had to walk yourself into your bed room. Without thinking twice about it, you checked the chain around your closet door. Thank god; it was still locked. The reason behind the chain and lock on your closet door? Easy. During the middle of the night, the creaking of the doors opening would wake you. The room was pitch black, so it was impossible to see anything, but the energy you felt in the room let you know you weren't alone. Eerie was an understatement. It was more like shitting bricks scared.

A quick pull on the chain and you hopped into bed, neck deep in covers. After a long day like today, it didn't surprise you that you were out cold the moment your head hit the pillows. The amount of cleaning and errands that piled up earlier in the day took all the energy from you and the mattress was calling your name. In fact, you were so tired, you didn't even hear the front door being kicked down...or the chain bounding the closet fall to the floor as the doors creaked open once again.

Slowly, Dean opened your bedroom door and chills erupted on his body. He had seen this too many times...This...this was the beginning of his nightmare. The loud beating was there, as well as the shadow figure with its crooked finger. Pieces began to connect with other pieces as the nightmare came back to haunt him. The pounding drum wasn't just his heart, but rather a mix of his brother's fist against the locked door and the pounding of the organ keeping him alive.

When the hell did the door lock? Before he could continue to think, his mouth was open and he was speaking as if he was a puppet on a string. Why I am so shocked? I've seen this before. I know exactly what is going to happen next.

"W-What do you want?" Dean stuttered out. The figure slowly pointed to you, the sleeping angel according to Dean. "Her? Why her?" Just like in the dream, the figure never spoke but the Winchester kept on going, his blood boiling. "Tell me you son of a bitch!"

And then, there was the ear piercing scream that brought the grown man to his knees wincing in pain. "Possess the girl," the demon spat underneath his scream. Just like Dean predicted, silence followed, but this time he was prepared for the next wave of sounds. The shattering of the windows didn't startle him and the raging screams from the damned souls in hell didn't make him want to curl into a ball trembling. I've been there before, he told himself. They have nothing on me.

What he didn't expect, though, was his nightmare to finish out. Your eyes shot open in fear as your mouth let out a scream. Without making a sound, the figure had snuck over to you and grasped both side of your face with its freezing cold hands. Long fingers forced your mouth open, but before it could fully transform into mist and slither down your throat, one simple word stopped all action.

"Surgat.." Dean panted out. "I know your name you evil son of a bitch! I know your name!"

Surgat screamed out knowing it was partially defeated. Seemingly all its power drained from him, but the demon wasn't ready for the fight to end. He knew his own power. He knew that Dean was nothing more than a puny human; dog shit on the bottom of his shoe, even.

What no one knew, though, was what the blinding white light that filled the room was. Trying to peek, Dean nearly burned his retinas so he only prayed that you had closed your eyes at the right time. So this is how the nightmare ended, Dean thought to himself.

In the blink of an eye, the blinding light was gone and the room was left in perfect condition. It was as if nothing had even happen which was a load of absolute bullshit. On the edge of the bed, though, was Castiel hugging you tightly. His arms swallowed your trembling form, but it still wasn't enough to rid the horrible images in your head.

"Cas, the hell was that?" Dean asked, slowly picking himself off the floor.

"Archangels. Gabriel, Michael, and couple others." Gently, his hand stroked your hair as tears streaked your face.

"C-Cas?" you stuttered out. "Did you change your name, Jimmy?"

Sam, who was allowing Dean to lean on him for support, looked at the angel with his brows knitted. "You didn't tell her?"

"Tell me what?" Worried, you looked up at your brother. "Tell me what, Jimmy!"

The angel sighed and pulled away from the embrace. "Y/n, Jimmy is no longer here...My name is Castiel, and I am angel of the Lord. Your brother was generous enough to let me use him as a vessel. I was going to tell you sooner, but-"

"You just didn't know how," you finished for him. You had waited years to see him again and here was your chance, so why ruin it by freaking? It was still your brother...well...kind of. It was still his body, but just a different soul. The shock of what just happened was the only thing keeping you together. Once that wore off...you didn't want to be alone.

"Exactly," he sighed.

Dean walked over like he was stepping on thin ice just to get a better look at you. "How did you reach out to me?" was all he could manage to get out of his dried throat.

"What do you mean?" When those green eyes fell into view, it took all your self control to not get lost in them. I've seen those before...

"I've been having nightmares about you...I've watched this play out in my head over and over again..."

Your face turned as white as the sheets. "I-I've been having dreams about you too..."

#Dean Winchester one shots #Dean Winchester one shot #dean Winchester oneshots #dean Winchester oneshot #dean oneshot #dean oneshots #dean one shot #dean one shots #sam Winchester oneshots #sam Winchester oneshot #sam Winchester one shot #sam Winchester one shots #Castiel oneshot #Castiel oneshots #Castiel one shot #Castiel one shots #Supernatural one shot #Supernatural one shots #supernatural oneshot #supernatural oneshots #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #supernatural #dean Winchester x reader #reader x dean winchester #sam Winchester x reader #reader x sam winchester #castiel x sister!reader

[ritingsandwramblings]

Sunshine Part 1 (Ben Platt x Reader)

Prompt: requested by @just-another-imagine-writer : “Ben Platt/Reader in which reader is super anxious (generalized anxiety) and he tries to help as best as he can and tells her about how brave they are/how Evan would have handled his anxiety (since the reader heavily depends on Evan Hansen’s character as well as Ben himself) *screaming internally bc I don’t like asking off anon but I’m pretty sure you could write this way better than I coULD!!!*”

IM SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG FUCK

Gender neutral Reader btw!!

Warnings: anxiety, anxiousness, spoiler to the first lines of the show ig,

This is two parts bc I felt like this was too long to add a part about Ben helping the reader by saying what Evan would do. 💕💕

I said I while ago I wasn’t gonna write anymore cast member fics bc I didn’t feel like I could know them well enough to get their personality perfectly accurate but here you go it’s an exception bc this prompt is so cute and I feel like I can get Ben pretty accurate after being a ben platt stan™ for like 5 years now lmao. Also I’m so flattered that you think I could write this so good tysm!!!!

Honestly I did so much research for this I didn’t wanna fuck up the GAD (generalized anxiety disorder) parts and not describe them well because I didn’t want to not make it serious enough or just get it wrong bc GAD exposure (or any mental illness exposure) is so important to some people and if I’m gonna contribute to that exposure I’m not gonna get the info wrong!!! Source credits is Wikipedia tho tbh I read the entire wiki article on GAD. Also I tried to include Reader helping Ben too since Ben has anxiety as well so!!! Cute fluff of such a healthy helpful relationship!!!

Nickname (and title) credit to @chelykat451-blog Tysm!!!!

•••••

You had cried the first time you went to see Bens show. It was a clear memory for you, going to the Music Box Theatre much earlier than when the show was set to start. It was the opening night for their move to Broadway, so the street leading up to the theatre was crowded with cameras, fans, and interviewers all dying to get a glimpse of the cast. Ben brought you with him early, hoping that the rest of the cast and crew wouldn’t be mad about him bringing you backstage. You could hear the crowds from down the street, and your increasingly clammy hand began to unconsciously tighten around Bens. He looked at you, knowing your feelings of anxiety reciprocated his own and feeling sympathy. Pulling the hood of your jacket tight, you and Ben walked fast towards the stage door, you on the inside closest to the building, him on the outside waving to fans and smiling to a few before he got to the door, letting you two in.

Once inside the door you let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, closing your eyes and leaning against a wall, letting your head fall back against it. Ben hesitantly grabbed your shoulders, almost pulling away when you jumped at the contact. You leaned into his chest though, not letting him pull away just yet. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“Hey, you were so brave, okay, Sunshine?” He said, using his nickname for you, a reference to your large love for the Beatles song Here Comes The Sun, “I’m so proud of you, you did it! Go Y/N!” Ben whispered into your hair, kissing your head again as you giggled into his chest. Pulling away slowly, he looked into your eyes and gave you a reassuring smile, before taking your hand in his and leading you up the stairs to his dressing room, where you stayed while he got ready for the show. You sat on the couch in his room after stripping off your coat and watched while he prepared. It was mesmerizing watching him put on his costume and get his hair and makeup done. He was so dedicated and focused and you couldn’t be more proud of him. When it reached seven they opened the doors for the nights audience to enter, the rush of the pushing crowd getting louder as more people filed into the theatre. You rubbed your right thumb against the palm of your left hand nervously, bouncing your leg as you knew eventually you’d have to go to your seat and you were sure something would go wrong somehow. Ben noticed your anxiety and walked over, kneeling in front of you on the floor, resting his chin on your knee that wasn’t bouncing, his hands resting on your waist.

“It won’t be long, Sunshine, okay? You’ll only be out there for forty-five minutes and then I’ll be onstage, okay? Just forget everyone around you and focus on me.” Ben said, looking up into your nervous eyes. You looked up from your hands and met his eyes, giving him a reassuring close mouthed grin, silently telling him you would be okay and could do this. You stood up, him following, and wrapped your arms around him in a big hug.

“I love you, and I’m so unbelievably proud of you, Benny,” you told him, feeling slightly emotional as you thought of this journey and all that Ben had done, “Now, break an arm!” You said, joking about the cheesy ‘break a leg’ saying and his characters broken arm. He snorted, his nose crinkling as he laughs.

“Thank you. I love you too, you nerd,” He kissed your forehead before you left his warm embrace, leaving his dressing room and going through a series of doors and down many sets of stairs until you got to your seat. It was in the front toe, with the rest of the friends and family of the cast, next to Ben’s parents and siblings. You smiled at his mom as you sat next to her, your seat being on the outside of the row so nobody was on your left side. She talked excitedly to Bens father for the next forty minutes while you continuously rubbed your thumb on your hand.

~~~~~

After the never ending forty minutes wait, the show started. You watched, tearing up at the sight of your boyfriend on stage, on Broadway, the lead in a show. You knew he was fulfilling his dream, and you couldn’t describe the pride you had for him.

“Dear Evan Hansen, today is going to be a good day, because, because all you have to do is just… just be yourself… and also confidence…” Ben began to ramble as his character, the audience and you included giggling at his nervous rambling. Soon enough, Rachel entered the stage as his mom, but your eyes were still glued on Ben. You noticed his anxious behavior and how he began chewing his nails and messing with the hem of his shirt and you geared up once again. You didn’t stop crying even after the show ended, many hours later.

~~~~~

“Oh my god, Benny, that was beautiful!” you say excitedly as you walk down the hallway backstage to meet up with Ben. He was sweaty and has tears staining and snot covering his face, but you didn’t care. You ran up to him and pulled him into a tight hug, still crying hard from the show.

“Thanks, Sunshine! You liked it? Oh I’m so glad you liked it!” Ben said with just as excitement, his nose crinkling in happiness again.

“Liked it? I loved it!” You pulled away and wiped your tears, even though t was pointless as more continued to fall. Even if Ben wasn’t the lead, the show was still amazing and meant a lot to you. It was very emotional for you being able to see representation of a teen with anxiety, since you were diagnosed when you were fifteen and had dealt with generalized anxiety ever since. Ben knew this, and had told you about the show and character when he first landed the part, telling you that he wanted to use some of your ticks and traits to help make Evan more realistic. You agreed, of course, wanting to see a realistic anxiety representative in media.

“You did great, Benny, that was perfect.” You cried, grabbing each side of his face and giving him a kiss. He rested his hands on your tear-stained cheeks as well, kissing back just as passionately as you did to him.

#deh #dear evan hansen imagine #dearevanhansen #dear evan hansen x reader #dear evan hansen #deh x reader #deh imagine #bensplatt #Ben Platt #ben platt x reader #tw #anxiety//

[therevaliir-blog]

Announcements: 04-21-2017

Site Changes:

Item updates ahoy!   We've been busy bees so read through this, this might affect you!

Game Box has gone from 30 -> 15 Silver to reflect the costs of other kits that were more useful than it. Like mining tools and grooming tools. Cloak has gone from 20 –> 15 to closer match the common gear but not completely Grappling Hook has gone from 70 –> 40 because we thought the price was too high. Archheal got changed to Greater Heal because I realized it's not an AOE spell (Area of Effect). That was my fault. The elemental arrows in Ankou are going to be deleted a month from now mainly because we've combined all of them into "Quiver of Elemental Arrows" This was done on the Earth Arrow so if you have an Earth Arrow congrats you get the Quiver. It has rules so read them. Price jumped from 25 –> 75 to reflect this. Turn in your other arrows for stuff depending on what you used it for.  If you just used the arrow for the bows you get 25 silvers. If you have a post proving you used the arrows to substitute for an enchanted weapon of some sort I'll give you the enchant + the weapon so you don't lose it. This seems fair. I found a few items in the back that I got to add to the shops (they must have accidentally got left out when we were moving stuff/redoing shops): The following items were added to Ye Ol' Sword Shop: Scimitar for 55. The following items were added to Abel's Everything Else: Harp for 50. The following items were added to Quorra's Best: Crown for 150. WEAPON PRICE CHANGES / EXOTIC REWORKS Normal Weapons Bastard Sword  has gone from 130 to 85 Battle Axe has gone from 100 to 75 Battle Fan has gone from 155 to 95 Bokken has gone from 50 to 15 Bo Staff has gone from 10 to 5 Broadsword has gone from 60 to 55 Halberd has gone from 95 to 75 Hand Axe has gone from 30 to 25 Heavy Crossbow has gone from 140 to 120 Hunting Bow has gone from 50 to 25 Katana has gone from 185 to 125 Katar has gone from 75 to 50 Knuckle Dusters have gone from 50 to 25 Mace has gone from 70 to 65 Mage's Staff has gone from 225 to 125 Morningstar has gone from 110 to 85 Rapier has gone from 135 to 85 Sais have gone from 110 to 60 Scythe has gone from 45 to 35 Shuriken has gone from 45 to 30 Sling has gone from 10 to 5 Spiked Chain has gone from 115 to 100 Tanto has gone from 135 to 50 Throwing Knives have gone from 40 to 35 Urumi has gone from 150 to 100 Wand has gone from 70 to 60 War Hammer has gone from 120 to 100 Whip has gone from 45 to 25 Exotic Weapons Price + Descriptions Exotic weapons were meant to be better, fancier, and overall stronger than their normal counterpart. Due to a disagreement among staff we weren't able to make an agreement on what these things were to actual be until recently when a revote was called for. Exotic Weapons come with a Keen Rune, all of them, meaning they are always sharp and never rust no matter how old they are. Each Exotic Weapon does something different but will not be on the level of an actual enchantment(which will be brought up later). Exotic Weapons across the board all cost 300 silver more than their counterparts in the normal items. This is because enchanting fees and materials fees do apply. These weapons are some of the best outside of the actual synth items. To keep this short please visit the shop to see how the exotic weapons have been changed completely. Abedi Chakram has gone from 560 to 330. Arriese Glaive has gone from 450 to 375 Bohari Lance has GONE UP from 275 to 310 Egjoran Poleaxe has gone from 525 to 375 Endapano Longbow has gone from 450 to 325 Harenian Scimitar has gone from 375 to 355 Hazan Szabla has gone from 670 to 360 Highland Claymore has gone from 400 to 385 Irian Mage's Staff has gone from 850 to 425 Ataiyan Katana formally Karithian Katana has gotten a name change + the price has gone from 750 to 425 Mamlak Flail has gone from 600 to 385 Vilpamolan Cutlass has gone from 450 to 385 Baltian War Hammer formally  Zujiuchu War Hammer has been renamed to reflect the Dwarven City and the price has GONE UP from 375 to 400. Starter Packs Rework I've balanced out the Starter Packs before the Bard pack only got 64 silver worth of items while the Mage's pack got over 225 silver worth. All packs now have 300 silver worth of items + the 100 silver you get outright for claiming them. If anyone has any starter pack suggestions you can drop me a pm or find me on discord… or you can post in the Suggestions Forum! I've added the Druid Pack – Common Trousers, Common Tunic, Boots, Mud Ball, Botanical Growth, Bo Staff, Commune with Nature, Parvpora's Sight, Heal, Bag, Herbs, Canteen, and Hunter's Instinct. Ranger Pack: Boots, Cloak, Common Trousers, Common Tunic, Leather Vambraces, Hunter's Instinct, Conjure Food, Predatory Bird, Dagger, Lesser Agility, Parvpora's Sight, Hunting Bow. Bard Pack: Common Tunic, Common Trousers, Boots, Blank Scrolls, Quill and Ink, Sheet Music, Tambourine, Lute, Dagger, Song Bird, Drum, Map, Horn, Flute, Fan, Cap, Mask. Cleric Pack: Bless, Common Robes, Slippers, Joss Sticks, Protections, Heal, Herbs, Beeswax, Tailoring Kit, Canteen, Cure, Backpack, Blanket, and Bo Staff. Paladin Pack: Kite Shield, Common Tunic, Common Trousers, Boots, Broadsword, Strength, Consecrate Weapon, Sunburst, Safe Passage, and Heal. Swashbuckler Pack: Bandana, Common Trousers, Common Tunic, Boots, Dagger, Rapier, Lesser Agility, Spy Glass, Compass, Map, Canteen, Sash, Eye Patch, and Grappling Hook. Mage Pack: Common Robes, Slippers, Fire Ball, Frost Ball, Lightning Ball, Mud Ball, Sunburst, Shadow Cast, Concussive Blast, Wand, Blank Scrolls, Quill and Ink, and Lesser Agility. Warrior Pack: Common Trousers, Common Tunic, Boots, Gloves, Bastard Sword, Strength, Hunter's Instinct, Backpack, Dagger, Broadsword, and Whetstone. Lore CHANGES Deadzones have been changed to Void Storms. Wiki Articles to come on them! We've moved wiki articles to their proper subforums/forums. We've hopefully renamed everything that we changed. Mo'Mey Steppes is getting its language changed to Belarusian. If the wiki isn't reflecting that it will soon! FINALLY THE ALCHEMY SHOP IS HERE! Until we get the server restart so it shows up in the shop index people will have to use the following link –> Karma's Baubles You can view all of the enchantments there. The summer items are getting transferred to the Forge and will use the enchantments to make them! Secondly: Enchantments have rules that follow them. If you have ever played Diablo 3 they let you unsocket gems. You will be able to unsocket these enchants. In the future, we will probably be adding in a future to add the enchantments to the item you want through a system and then you will have to pay silver to unsocket them, just like in Diablo. Rules for Enchantments are as followed and will be added to the rules if they haven't been already: You cannot switch your enchantments out midbattle while you are fighting. We will strike you for powerplay. If you want to run off and hide for minutes to swap them out you can. Armor and Weapons do different things with the enchantments. Armor gets minor resistance of the element the enchantment has. Weapons get minor elemental damage of the element that the enchantment has. If people are caught breaking the rules we ask that you turn them in to an admin or moderator as always. Powerplay isn't fun and no one should have to deal with it. You can transmute ores! You can't go backwards so be careful. Eventually we will add potions and other stuff to the alchemy shop but for now the icon crew is working hard on catching up. The sooner we are caught up the sooner you guys will get new items. So if anyone wants to help out they can!  List can be found here and it is updated automatically while you look at it (Google docs is neat)–>  Icon List to be done  – Drop me a pm here or on discord to let me know if you are working no something so I can mark it off! I'm always finding icons that we need to redo so the number might jump once in a while! FINALLY If you want a refund for items that you have bought and the prices dropped please pm me what the items are. I think I made a thread in Help or Suggestions for it as well. GO THERE! Also look at the list of items from this past time to see if you are owed anything. CHEERS!

Please take a moment and help us welcome Porthyrius (who some of you know as Gypsy) to our Moderator team.  In addition to her role as a deity on Revaliir, Gypsy has been integral in many behind-the-scenes happening as of late, and we are excited to have her as a part of our staff team

Sidhiel, The Living Myth

"My mother once told me a frightening tale. It was about an island of High Elves that thought themselves too mighty. Purebloods would look down on their half-blood brethren like so many others do. They were cruel. There was a god once upon a time that came from the island. He had light hair and dark skin, beautiful like his father had been. However, his father had been human from Iria and this caused distress on the island. He was hated and lived every day in the shadows of those who thought they were better because of their fair folk blood. Verya called his blood and he proved them wrong. HE was better than they were now. The hate continued though despite how he had proved them wrong. For punishment, he decided to take that very pride from them. If the world couldn't see how much better the elves were from the rest of Revaliir wouldn't that bring them down a notch? Verya had come under madness soon and while it had only been a thought before the half-elf god had decided to go through with it. The island became known as Srendnyimor and the world could only remember it as a wasteland. Nothing grew there. No one wanted it. Not one single person. They avoided it like the plague because what good was an island if it had such a barrier reef around it that it would destroy most vessels that came near? There was no purpose. It stayed that way for centuries even after Verya's death. The curse still rooted tightly into the Feeorian magic that the island was made of. I only remember the tales now from my mother. I've lived a long time and I was just a girl when the tree fell… The memories that were stolen are now so vivid. Sidhiel is back but why?" -Seer from the Tower of Edhit. Revaliir staff is proud to pull the glamour out from your eyes. Sidhiel comes to light. Only a half-elf god from Sidhiel could have broken this spell. Adraejen Porthyrius has unknowingly brought back his people, the very people who shunned and cast him out. He saved them. The island has seemingly sprung back to life but… it had always truly been that way. High Elves that had left the island had forgotten their way home or ended up so lost they wound back up in the glamour. Now they are freed but… have they truly learned a thing? Sidhiel, The Living Myth We will have wiki articles on this as soon as possible. We didn't want to jam all the lore into the description. We'll make sure to let everyone know when the wiki articles are up!

Welcome to Varaz!

On the edge of the Haza Savanna exists a wasteland of wonder, danger, and excitement. Do you dare enter Varaz? The Arcane Circle tells your blood to flee but your heart says to go in for the sake of adventure and knowledge. Varaz Area Description Thank you Silver Star for submitting this area to us! We were utterly in love with it and can't wait to see what others have in store!

Welcome to Komiteia

A new place has been introduced today: Komiteia, the grand nation of the Halfling race. This land was once plentiful and a grand area where others could come study the architecture and admire the wealth. When the Parvpora World Tree Verya fell the Halfling race took the brunt of it all. The main branches came crashing down into their beloved city of Emiria. The corruption that had driven the gods of Parvpora mad and led to the death of Verya slowly crept out and started to spread. The Halflings rebuilt but nothing could ever be as grand as that first city. Their history and wealth vanished… and they found themselves rebuilding and regaining their standing in the world. So come visit them! Have a drink in Eden or sleep in Wyndham to experience the softest pillows. OR get adventurous and see what lies in the ancient lands of Emiria that nature has retaken and the corruption has stolen. Komiteia Description This will take the place of Siva Zem. I am working on the redo do of the map!

Updates:

-  The Alchemy/Synth system is now fully up and running and people should be getting drops now!

Two New Deities Announced:

We debated for a good hour or more and only two choices remained when we were done. Before we go on to announce the chosen for these spots we decided to go into a bit about choosing them. First: We didn’t choose them out of favoritism. Each has the skills we look for. One of them we shot down multiple times and told them to keep applying and how they could improve. Second: We wanted you to make sure that you knew that *I* wasn’t biased in this. You’ll understand when I get to the results. I was most critical of both of our choices and tore them apart worse than the other two Triune members. If anything these choices had it worse than the other applicants making the scales tip in the other applicants' favors. Now we get on to the god selection: Our new gods are: Porthyrius, the Keeper of the Keys and Secrets of Knowledge and the Arcane, The One with the Silvered Tongue.   Xunatar,  the Chaosweaver and the Lord of Lies. Gypsy(Porthyrius), does an enormous amount of things for Revaliir behind the scenes. She not only draws for us but she has come up with many ideas for the site that we’ve implemented. Every project we’ve ever started she’s joined. Her activity level is second to none (Well maybe myself). She is friendly and helpful to all who come to her. We were worried about announcing Gypsy as well but we believe that her activity and devotion to the site speaks for itself. Brandon(Xunatar), is a moderator on our site. He has been with Revaliir since the June before we opened our doors. He was/is some of the driving force for things we do. He helps all and will rp with anyone. He is the ideal Moderator but we weren’t looking for a moderator when we chose him for this spot. His lore weaving is some of the best I’ve seen(That we have seen). He also have a high activity count, which we count. He can also rp with anyone easily. This is not the first time he’s applied but he has worked on the things we told him too. We’re glad to have him not only as our moderator but as what we hope to be a long standing deity. When selecting him I sat in a different room and he didn’t know a thing about what I was doing. He didn’t know and still doesn’t know that we picked him. This will be the first he’s heard of it despite us living together. Brandon’s selection is the hardest because we worried people would think I was being biased. However, I am only one person out of three and easily out voted. The others saw what I did. An evolving roleplayer who has earned his right to become a deity ontop of his job as moderator. He has an even harder job as I’ll be over him making sure that he gets his stuff done. By no means does he have this easy, if anything he has it harder. I don’t like our deities slacking no matter who they are. Revaliir is our baby and we wouldn’t put any ol person as a deity just because we like them as a person. Overall I owed this explanation to no one. As I hoped that you all would trust in my judgment and trust me to be fair. I’m doing this because I want to be transparent with everyone. Cello and Whitney agreed with that line of thought and we thought this was best. That being said anyone who gets caught ranting to members in the discord or on skype (anywhere it gets reported from) will be issued a warning. We’ve had problems in the past with people thinking we promote favoritism. We don’t. I certainly do not. As I said before those I choose are what I believe to be the ideal person for roleplaying and being an active leader in our community. That’s all I want for this site. However, their applications have to make sense and I won’t sit with rose-colored glasses. I’ve ripped apart their applications down to the single most elusive detail. All in all these two have earned their spots and I’ll be happy to talk to whoever didn’t get the spots and help them with their applications if they want for the future (keep in mind the applications might change for the next round whenever we have them). Brandon’s moderator position will be moved to Xunatar following this announcement. This rounds out the conclave to 6. Unless we see a higher number of people on the site or someone falls this will be the last god selection for a while. Also this interestingly enough rounds out the conclave: 2 good, 2 neutral, and 2 evil.

#fantasy #roleplay #rpg #rp #rping #announcements

[montyrakusen]

Voices in the Wind, the Northern Isles of Shetland Part 2

I awoke one morning in someone else’s flat and I couldn’t remember how I got there. My friend, fellow art student, Ceri Herington Pritchard  https://ceripritchard.com/  decided we should go on an adventure.

"Let's go north" I said, and we did. We decided on Shetland, as it was as far north as we could think of going in the UK. It was October and cold, wintery, and Ceri let all the camping gas escape in Aberdeen before we had even got on the ferry. We didn’t have outdoor clothes like we have today. Ceri had a greatcoat and I had a tank driver's jacket, probably from the Korean war, that I’d stolen from the Combined Cadet Force at school.  

When we arrived in Lerwick we headed north striding out as fast as we could. They were building the Sullom Voe oil terminal and the flat barren wind-swept landscape was dotted with ex red London double decker buses ferrying workers to the construction site, the destination windows read, Moorgate, Archway, Liverpool Street Station and so forth. We walked in a huge cavernous world of clouds coming from Greenland rising in the west and falling in the east with the sun shining through, highlighting the ceiling of our world and at sunset looked like God had appeared. I fell in a bog then it rained and there was freezing fog then I fell in a bog again.

On the 5th of November we were probably two of Europe’s most northerly campers, at the most northerly point of Shetland, a place where giants fought over the love of a mermaid, near the remote island of Muckle Flugga. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muckle_Flugga

Miserable, with teeth chattering and wet feet, I wore all the clothes I possessed and had to get up at 3am to crack the ice off my tent. On another night because of a storm we slept in a cement store hut and upon waking covered in dust looked like ghosts. One night, camped on a windy beach we were kept awake by boulders rolling in the surf. It was always spine chillingly cold and was only relieved by whisky in friendly pubs that felt like someones front room and there was usually a fidler. These experiences only gave me a love for this beautiful and remote place in the middle of the North Sea.

Nowhere is more than a mile from the sea on Northern Shetland and it is almost tree-less. Small crofts are dotted here and there with flapping, coloured, washing drying on lines, fishing boats far out at sea and the smell of burning peat on the wind. In those days the place was littered with abandoned rusting vehicles and the sides of the roads were covered in empty beer cans with the smiling face of Venetia Stevenson looking up at us https://www.cannyscot.com/SweetheartStout.htm, people built walls from un-returnable beer barrels and crofts lay derelict. Later, I believe, a vicar ordered a ship to take all the scrap away. No matter what the weather there was always some hardy soul out in the landscape, a small moving dot in the distance digging the peat, driving the sheep, rowing a boat. If you listened carefully there were voices on the wind.

I loved this wonderful strange place and began to plan a photo documentary. I first returned and shot it in 35mm colour transparency with the hope of printing it up in Ciba Chrome of which I was a big fan. Unfortunately the processing lab put a scratch through every roll of film and in those days it was impossible to retouch.

Each year I would return, shooting medium format black and white first with Hasselblad and then later Rollie 6006/8 and I gradually built up a collection of images searching for the essence of the place. I became friends with people there, the local doctor from Mid Yell and some people who looked after otters. They recognised me in the pubs.

Some years I walked the islands, some years I took my blue Landrover with its home made stereo and two cassettes that I bought in Aberdeen, The Smiths, Meat is Murder and Elvis Costello, Almost Blue. I drove around in the simmer dim the grey evening light, eventually knowing both albums by heart. The RAF invited me to their mid-summer beach party, it never got dark and in the morning I was dive bombed by bonxsies, mad sea birds, as I staggered around the landscape looking for fresh water. I fell in a bog again.

I was befriended by people who fed me boiled ham and potatoes, plied me with drink and had me shoot shotguns at empty cans thrown in the air. “Just mind the sheep, lad”. Coming out of the most northerly pub at half past eleven at night with the sun still shining in my eyes I stepped onto a Norwegian Trawler and got caught up in a fight. We sat in the mess as they fought round and round on the tables and each time they came past we clutched our drinks to our chests.

The photography project ran out of steam, my life had changed, I was busy at work, until Lizzie encouraged me to finish it and we travelled back there together to see Up Helly Aa, the ceremonial burning of the Viking longship https://www.uphellyaa.org/ and to show my work in progress to Shetland Arts with a view to exhibiting it. We stayed in Mid Yell in the snow with 125mph winds full of ice. Huge squalls blew in from the ocean flying low, dropping ice into the waves. When we were in Lerwick we were guests of the head of the Jarl squad, the viking leader of Up Helly Aa, a tremendous honour.

In the early morning, whilst he slept, we secretly tried on his Viking gear. I always felt welcome there and people were kind. An exhibition was arranged in Lerwick, British Airways helped me fly it up and then it travelled all over Scotland. I was interviewed by a lovely lady with small round John Lennon Spectacles from Radio Shetland, only problem was I could hardly understand a word she said. The exhibition opening was very well attended from islands far and wide, made more impressive by the fact no one could get back home to their islands until the ferries restarted in the morning. I felt proud when they said I had shown their home to them in a different way.

Text edit: John Coombes Encouragement: Liz Rakusen

#shetland #yell #unst #fetlar #voices

[montyrakusen]

Voices in the Wind, the Northern Isles of Shetland Part 1

I awoke one morning in someone else’s flat and I couldn’t remember how I got there. My friend, fellow art student, Ceri Herington Pritchard  https://ceripritchard.com/  decided we should go on an adventure.

"Let's go north" I said, and we did. We decided on Shetland, as it was as far north as we could think of going in the UK. It was October and cold, wintery, and Ceri let all the camping gas escape in Aberdeen before we had even got on the ferry. We didn’t have outdoor clothes like we have today. Ceri had a greatcoat and I had a tank driver's jacket, probably from the Korean war, that I’d stolen from the Combined Cadet Force at school.  

When we arrived in Lerwick we headed north striding out as fast as we could. They were building the Sullom Voe oil terminal and the flat barren wind-swept landscape was dotted with ex red London double decker buses ferrying workers to the construction site, the destination windows read, Moorgate, Archway, Liverpool Street Station and so forth. We walked in a huge cavernous world of clouds coming from Greenland rising in the west and falling in the east with the sun shining through, highlighting the ceiling of our world and at sunset looked like God had appeared. I fell in a bog then it rained and there was freezing fog then I fell in a bog again.

On the 5th of November we were probably two of Europe’s most northerly campers, at the most northerly point of Shetland, a place where giants fought over the love of a mermaid, near the remote island of Muckle Flugga. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muckle_Flugga

Miserable, with teeth chattering and wet feet, I wore all the clothes I possessed and had to get up at 3am to crack the ice off my tent. On another night because of a storm we slept in a cement store hut and upon waking covered in dust looked like ghosts. One night, camped on a windy beach we were kept awake by boulders rolling in the surf. It was always spine chillingly cold and was only relieved by whisky in friendly pubs that felt like someones front room and there was usually a fidler. These experiences only gave me a love for this beautiful and remote place in the middle of the North Sea.

Nowhere is more than a mile from the sea on Northern Shetland and it is almost tree-less. Small crofts are dotted here and there with flapping, coloured, washing drying on lines, fishing boats far out at sea and the smell of burning peat on the wind. In those days the place was littered with abandoned rusting vehicles and the sides of the roads were covered in empty beer cans with the smiling face of Venetia Stevenson looking up at us https://www.cannyscot.com/SweetheartStout.htm, people built walls from un-returnable beer barrels and crofts lay derelict. Later, I believe, a vicar ordered a ship to take all the scrap away. No matter what the weather there was always some hardy soul out in the landscape, a small moving dot in the distance digging the peat, driving the sheep, rowing a boat. If you listened carefully there were voices on the wind.

I loved this wonderful strange place and began to plan a photo documentary. I first returned and shot it in 35mm colour transparency with the hope of printing it up in Ciba Chrome of which I was a big fan. Unfortunately the processing lab put a scratch through every roll of film and in those days it was impossible to retouch.

Each year I would return, shooting medium format black and white first with Hasselblad and then later Rollie 6006/8 and I gradually built up a collection of images searching for the essence of the place. I became friends with people there, the local doctor from Mid Yell and some people who looked after otters. They recognised me in the pubs.

Some years I walked the islands, some years I took my blue Landrover with its home made stereo and two cassettes that I bought in Aberdeen, The Smiths, Meat is Murder and Elvis Costello, Almost Blue. I drove around in the simmer dim the grey evening light, eventually knowing both albums by heart. The RAF invited me to their mid-summer beach party, it never got dark and in the morning I was dive bombed by bonxsies, mad sea birds, as I staggered around the landscape looking for fresh water. I fell in a bog again.

I was befriended by people who fed me boiled ham and potatoes, plied me with drink and had me shoot shotguns at empty cans thrown in the air. “Just mind the sheep, lad”. Coming out of the most northerly pub at half past eleven at night with the sun still shining in my eyes I stepped onto a Norwegian Trawler and got caught up in a fight. We sat in the mess as they fought round and round on the tables and each time they came past we clutched our drinks to our chests.

The photography project ran out of steam, my life had changed, I was busy at work, until Lizzie encouraged me to finish it and we travelled back there together to see Up Helly Aa, the ceremonial burning of the Viking longship https://www.uphellyaa.org/ and to show my work in progress to Shetland Arts with a view to exhibiting it. We stayed in Mid Yell in the snow with 125mph winds full of ice. Huge squalls blew in from the ocean flying low, dropping ice into the waves. When we were in Lerwick we were guests of the head of the Jarl squad, the viking leader of Up Helly Aa, a tremendous honour.

In the early morning, whilst he slept, we secretly tried on his Viking gear. I always felt welcome there and people were kind. An exhibition was arranged in Lerwick, British Airways helped me fly it up and then it travelled all over Scotland. I was interviewed by a lovely lady with small round John Lennon Spectacles from Radio Shetland, only problem was I could hardly understand a word she said. The exhibition opening was very well attended from islands far and wide, made more impressive by the fact no one could get back home to their islands until the ferries restarted in the morning. I felt proud when they said I had shown their home to them in a different way.

Text edit: John Coombes Encouragement: Liz Rakusen

#shetland #yell #unst #fetlar #voices