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cunninghamh2014 · 2 months
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Falling Skies Tom Mason
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bloomingbora · 2 months
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krtek právě vede v polls o nějaký random titul a já potřebuju, abyste pro něj všichni hlasovali
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I'm currently working on notes for an au that mentions the Marauders quite a bit and apparently according to my notes for the au James and Remus are brothers. I quite literally had to do a double take and ask myself "whomst the fuck is James Lupin" to realise I ment James Potter and I didn't randomly make an OC that has the first name James as Remus's brother.
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I'm so tempted to make them similar looking in the au now because it's hilarious to me.
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nose-bl · 2 years
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i have to believe they gave kit a warning that if the series got renewed he’d need to speak french a couple times. but also how funny would it be if he didn’t know until now lol
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blueraimo · 2 years
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akash-lokhande · 1 year
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VoLTE Market
The report proves to be an effective tool that players can use to gain a competitive edge over their competitors and ensure lasting success in the global VoLTE market.
Get Free Research Report Sample PDF: https://cutt.ly/h2RH2CF
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amarcia · 4 months
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Sometimes a family can be your dad, your estranged Jedi mom, and her Padawan you adopt along the way.
Characters from my jedi romance post because I could not stop thinking about them!!!
✨🌙 ART LOG -> @404ama
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Dorj An'yr, and later his son Arok An'yr, are flyfish hunters (local name for a hawkbat-like creature that tastes like a fish) They're skilled pilots as they follow after the migrating flocks every year. Dorj met Jedi Knight Nan as she was sent to oversee the sector of the galaxy he lives in.
Nan Syal was a freshly appointed knight when she was sent as a part of a group to tighten Jedi presence in the rim. The council thinks it was a mistake in retrospect, because she returned pregnant a couple years later.
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Arok An'yr is a flyfish hunter not a fisherman not a fishmonger get it right okay!! He did not manage to sneak into the Jedi temple to speak with his mother but he managed to sneak into a Jedi courier ship to do basically the same, so it all worked out in the end. He is as force sensitive as a floor-board.
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Volm Ru is a Padawan of Jedi master Nan Syal, she literally wants nothing to do with any of this. Her signature trick is that she walks out of the room and disappears. She once claimed to know farghul to impress someone and now hopes to never meet anyone whom actually speaks the language.
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actordougjones · 1 year
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TBT #ThrowbackThursday .
10 years ago, I joined the cast of Falling Skies as the Volm alien “Cochise” for seasons 3,4,5. Makeup designed by Todd Masters & company. You can binge all 5 seasons now on HBO Max with your subscription, or rent/buy on Amazon, iTunes, GooglePlay, VUDU. .
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cunninghamh2014 · 1 year
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Falling Skies Ben Mason #volm #fallingskies #tommason #noahwyle #halmason #drewroy #maggie #margaret #sarahcarter #mattmason #maximknight #weaver #captainweaver #danielweaver #willpatton #anneglass #doctorglass #moonbloodgood #benmason #connorjessup #johnpope #pope #colincunningham #anthony #mphokoaho #lourdes #seychellegabriel #chochise #dougjones https://www.instagram.com/p/CmLMLGosQIs/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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readtilyoudie · 2 months
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LOVE ME, LOVE ME NOT VOLME 12
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himikohellhound · 7 months
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TUMBLR. I'M FUCKING BEGGING. ADD A FUCKING VOLME SLIDER. IT'S 2023 FOR FUCK SAKE.
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thebeautifulbook · 2 years
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THE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS by Sir Richard Burton (1821-1890) (New York: Heritage Press, 1955). Illustrated by Arthur Szyk. In two volmes. These are some of the illustrations from Volume One.
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wausaupilot · 4 months
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Wausau West wrestling earns five pins, downs Wausau East
The Warriors win nine of the 14 matches, improve to 3-2 in WVC duals.
Wausau Pilot & Review WAUSAU – Wausau West won five matches by pin and defeated crosstown rival Wausau East 57-22 in a Wisconsin Valley Conference wrestling dual on Thursday at West High School. Timothy Gospodarek (165 pounds), Sawyer Zydzik (175), William Ford (190), Samuel Volm (106) and Collin Cowell (150) all won by pin for the Warriors, who improve to 3-2 in WVC duals this season. Elmer…
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amarcia · 4 months
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started working on another oc design (one out of 4)
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this is volm ru
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lifeinavillage · 9 months
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Village Life
Before I go into explaining our village life, let me just tell you that, by the look of it, this is going to be one fairly disjointed tale. I have tried before to arrange everything in chronological timeline, and it didn’t work. I’d spend days trying to find, for example, if trying to get a photo of recently destroyed Mostar bridge, a UNESCO heritage monument, was before or after that day when we were trapped for the afternoon between two downtown buildings by a sniper. I’d obsess over getting everything in the right chronological order. I’d waste time, lose the thread and finally give up. I never asked myself did it really matter what happened first, as long as I told both stories to the best of my recollection?
These days I’m reading Did I Ever Tell You This?, a memoir by Sam Neill, the actor of Jurassic Park fame (and many other famous movies), and it’s a charming melee of anecdotes and memories captured as they popped into his head, in no particular order. It’s a fun read and such a liberating concept. Of course, I thought, why didn’t I think of this?, and decided that’s the exact kind of a mess that will work for my story. I’m no Frank McCourt, after all. Nor am I under any illusion this will ever be published anywhere other than this blog. So, I’m afraid, you’re up for a wild ride down my memory lane, which is more like a memory-roller-coaster than the lane.
Now, you may wonder why I chose this title for the blog. Well, because it’s true. My whole life I lived in cities. I grew up in Zagreb, the capital of Croatia and at the time the second biggest city in Yugoslavia. In the late 1990s I moved to Canada, to Calgary, the city of approximately the same size as Zagreb, but with definitely more laid back, prairies feel to it. Soon after I ended up in Toronto, which with surrounding area has population larger than the whole of Croatia, and stayed there until we decided to cross the Pond again, back to Croatia. And now, I’m in a place with official population of 990 — make that 992 now, with the two of us. Even here, we are in a subdivision of a subdivision, on the slope of a hill at the very edge of a nature park. In winter months I don’t think there’s more than a hundred people living on our side of the hill. So, yeah, I think living in a village is an accurate title.
Most of the year the area is peaceful and quiet. I’m more likely to run into a deer, or a hare, even a wild boar and a jackal, then another human. But, in the summer, it quickly becomes overcrowded with beachgoers, thrill-seekers, hikers, cyclists, wild campers and visitors of all kind. At the time I’m writing this, mid August, the place is teeming with tourists. You can’t throw a stick, as they say, without poking a foreigner in the butt. Our village, Volme, sits on a tongue of land between two bays on the upper Adriatic Sea. Plenty of beaches. Plenty of people who like beaches. I’m not crazy about the crowds, but I’m learning to tolerate them. Especially since we’re renting holiday apartments to those same tourists. Friends often tell us how much they envy our life by the sea, but frankly, summers are so busy with our guests, cleaning the apartments, welcoming ones and saying goodbye to the others, that we barely have time to go near the sea shore. Come September, though, everything changes. With the start of the new school year, everyone vanishes from here and again it’s only us, the boars, deer, rabbits… The sea is usually still warm enough for long, leisurely swims, and the beaches are empty. We endure high heat and high crowds of the summer months thinking of September.
As you can guess, our village isn’t of the rural kind, although there are vegetable fields and olive orchards around. The houses, even with the richest imagination, can’t be called farmhouses. They are villas, built for those couple of summer months when they can be let out to tourists. Most have pools and yards where olive and fruit trees are grown for the shade and decor rather than harvest. Our house sits on a large-ish yard, but we decided against building a pool. With the closest beach only 5 minutes away, it seems like a waste. Besides, even though we also take advantage of the tourism, we primarily want to have a calm, relaxing and happy space for ourselves. Happy home is the foundation for happy life.
How we ended up here
Only a few years ago this way of living would be an idea so foreign, it might as well have been fiction. Meg, my wife, and I both had steady jobs in Toronto and spent our workdays either at work or commuting to and from it through always unyielding and chaotic Toronto traffic. I was a multimedia producer in a Canadian national newspaper, and Meg was a graphic designer for a large law firm. Nice, cushy jobs with decent paychecks. One day the media corporation which owned the newspaper I worked at, as well as dozens of other newspapers across Canada, decided to cut costs by creating a single editing centre for all its newspapers. Person by person, my former department was dissolved. I was among the early layoffs. Meg kept her job while I went back to freelancing, producing online video for clients. It worked so well, we didn’t really feel financial hit from my loss of a full-time job.
We lived in a house we bought brand new ten years earlier. It was our first house and as such will always have a special place in our hearts. Our mortgage was half paid off and the plan was to keep going until the retirement, when we’ll sell it, downsize to a smaller house, or a flat, and use the leftover money to travel and do things we like. The only chink in that plan was time — I needed about 16 years to retirement, Meg quite a few more. One day during lunch we daydreamed about buying a house somewhere by the sea. Originally, we really wanted to move to Italy, but neither of us spoke the language, and their tax laws for foreigners seemed a bit draconian, or at least unclear. Then I said why not Croatia? I still held the citizenship, spoke the language and had family there. Also, Croatian coast is far prettier than Italian. You don’t believe me? Come over in August, and you won’t be able to move around from all the Italians crowding the coast. If their coast was superior, why would they all spend their vacations on our shores?
Over the said lunch I went through the calculations how much money we’d need to buy something in Croatia. It would be impossible without selling the house in Canada. Then Meg looked at me and said “Why wait 16 more years? Why not do it now?”
I must have looked like a swallowed a golf ball, because she had to repeat it a few times until it finally sunk in. That simple sentence is how we got here, my friend.
In the ten years since we bought it, our house tripled in value. We sold it and the car and almost everything else. We had enough money to buy a place in Croatia for us, with apartments to rent. Since we’re still too young to draw the pension from Canada, our savings and tourism are our means for survival.
When everything was finalized, we hosted a series of dinners with close friends, to tell them we’re moving. All of them, every single one, were very supportive, but also very envious. Sunil, our next-door neighbor and very dear friend, summed it up like this: “You guys are living everyone’s dream. You dared to break the shackles of working 9-5 jobs, paying mortgages, plowing through life and waiting for retirement. You have enough courage to take control of your own lives. We all wish we could do the same, but everyone is stuck in their lives for one reason or another (he and wife want to put their son through college). So, now you have an obligation to make it good and have a happy life, so we can all live it through you!”
Well, Sunil, and other friends, we are living a happy life, and all of you are welcome to visit.
One quick post-note to all this, a parting “wisdom”, if you will, is this: everyone can do what we did! Everyone can break out of the mold the society put us in and shape their own story. Both, Meg and I strongly believe this. The hardest part is making the definite decision, uttering that first sentence Meg said over that fateful lunch. Once the decision is made, you will find the way to make it happen. Because, there always is a way! Especially if you have someone like Meg, to work as a team, to lift you up when you’re feeling down and to give you a reason to keep going. Good things happen to those who try!
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