$LAYYYTER
One Nice Bug Per Day
oozey mess
Jules of Nature
h
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
⁂
Three Goblin Art
No title available
blake kathryn
KIROKAZE
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Game of Thrones Daily
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
🪼
Kaledo Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Cosimo Galluzzi
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
seen from Italy
seen from Germany
seen from Spain
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from France
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
@leona-florianova
Been uploading some older and new sketches on my ko-fi
Become a supporter of Leona-Florianova today! ❤️ Ko-fi lets you support the creators you love.
*also i will still post new art here on tumblr and on other sites..but ill be posting stuff on ko-fi in advance.
**some of it you´ll probably see only there.. (mostly work in progressss)
Reenacting Jurassic Park.
Deathclaws CAN and WILL open doors n enter buildings if they think theres someone sneaking around.
thats indeed ideal housing
NEW ART TELEPHONE GAME
^header art by @blossompigeon
PART 2: TEAM SORCERY
starter image by @ibenkrutt again, team sorcery: @bowelfly @crtastrophe @gachimushi @chalkrub @biomechanicalmash @iinfinitejester @tetrameryxx @iguanodont @proteesiukkonen @deadlydaemondraws @whip-o-will @leona-florianova @skelleste @mawchops @skelizardarts @palossssssand @barabones @kororobus @maria-ruta
PART 1: TEAM SWORDS
He sat there on the edge of his seat, watching for a gap. Arrest for debt was very common—he had always been aware of it—had had several friends carried off to sponging-houses, from which they wrote the most piteous appeals—but it had never happened to him personally and his knowledge of the process and of the law was vague. Sundays were safe, he was sure, and perhaps the King's birthday; he knew that peers could not be seized, that some places such as the Savoy and Whitefriars were sanctuaries, and he hoped that Lord Keith's house might therefore share these qualities: his longing eyes were fixed upon the open door, the lights within. 'Come on, governor,' cried the driver. 'Mind the step, your honour,' said a boy, holding the door. 'Come on, slow-arse,' shouted the coachman behind. 'You ain't going to plant a tree, are you?' There was no help for it. Jack stepped out on to the pavement and stood by Stephen in the scarcely-moving throng, hitching his cloak even higher round his face. 'It's the Emperor of Morocco,' said a light brightly-painted whore. 'It's the Polish giant from Astley's.' 'Show us your face, sweetheart.' 'Hold your head up, cock.' Some thought he was a foreigner, French dog of a Turk, others Old Moore, or Mother Shipton in disguise. He shuffled wretchedly towards the lighted doors, and when a hand clapped down on his shoulder he turned with a ferocity that pleased the crowd more than anything they had seen hitherto, except for Miss Rankin treading on her petticoat and coming down full length. 'Aubrey! Jack Aubrey!' cried Dundas, his old shipmate Heneage Dundas. 'I recognized your back at once—should have recognized you anywhere. How do you do? You have a touch of fever, I dare say? Dr Maturin, how do you do? Are you going in here? So am I, ha, ha, ha. How do you get along?' Dundas had recently been made post into the Franchise, 36; he loved the world in general, and his cheerful, affectionate flow of talk carried them across the pavement, up the steps and into the hall.
-Post Captain
crossfire with @s-u-w-i
-L.F.
right back at you oh dear, oh dear, I don't think there have ever been so many photos of me online before... I love the one from the crosstree though, and the last flash one of course ✨
crossfire with @s-u-w-i
-L.F.
So, some time ago, I shared a post about a costume that I was sewing. And here is the reason why I was sewing it - to spend some time on the brig La Grace (that's her on the last photo) and learn a bit about sailing, haha! It was most lovely, and I even managed not to get seasick. Not many photos with me (but you can see me there buttoning my vest) as I was the one holding the camera most of the time, but I have tons of photos with @leona-florianova, who was there too ( ﾉ ﾟｰﾟ)ﾉ
Ukradeno z facebůčku..
Miluju vlnící se chuchel na proplázce u_u
Ohhhhh yes, my PET, Gabe. I'd forgotten about the old boy and the COUNTLESS experiments I'd done on him back at Higgs. Gaaabe? Gabe, you're about to have your FAVORITE treat - a VISITOR. Won't that be nice? DON'T eat the visitor, boy. Don't.
*.. Its re-imagined gabe the cyberdog! a commission for @theredbaron56 .
I think tumblr finally figured out what ads I want to see, its been showing me lots of meats.
"Když máš v chalupě orchestrión nevadí že do ní fičí."
Ne!
To teda vadí, jó to vadí! To vadí!
Protože pokud nechceš mít nešťastnej a rozladěnej orchestrión tak ho nebudeš vystavovat elementům.
Já myslím že orchestrion je zvyklý na vystavování se elementům
Krk mrk
A mimochodem mít chalupu do které se vleze, no řekněte lidi, to by byl kurva barák.
Ohhhhh yes, my PET, Gabe. I'd forgotten about the old boy and the COUNTLESS experiments I'd done on him back at Higgs. Gaaabe? Gabe, you're about to have your FAVORITE treat - a VISITOR. Won't that be nice? DON'T eat the visitor, boy. Don't.
*.. Its re-imagined gabe the cyberdog! a commission for @theredbaron56 .
Stephen felt the weight of Dil's unwinking scrutiny:
he scratched himself in silence and listened to the now violent pounding of his heart.
'Oh, oh, oh,' she cried at last, rising and placing her thin hands together like a temple-dancer. 'Oh, oh, I understand it now.' She writhed and stamped and swayed, chanting, 'Oh Krishna, Krishnaji, oh Stephen bahadur, Sivaji, oh melter of hearts - ha, ha, ha!' her mirth overcame her dancing and she fell to the ground. 'Dost thou understand?'
'Perhaps not quite as well as thou.'
'I shall explain, make clear. She is wooing thee - she wishes to see thee by night, oh shameless, ha, ha, ha! But why, when she has three husbands? Because she must have a fourth, like the Tibetans: they have four husbands, and the Frank women are very like Tibetans strange, strange ways. The three have not given her a child, so a fourth there must be, and she has chosen thee because thou art so unlike them. She was warned in a dream, no doubt: told where to find thee, so unlike the rest.'
'Wholly unlike?'
'Oh yes, yes! They are fools - it is written on their foreheads. And they are rich and thou art poor; they are young and thou art ancient; they are handsome red-faced men, and thou - most holy men are hideous, though more or less innocent.
-H.M.S. Surprise
--The Reverse of the Medal
...all it takes...
Brilliant writing. Notice how Palmer explicitly avoids claiming to be a member of the Royal Society, avoids naming any member, avoids claiming to have met Dr. Maturin, and avoids claiming any medical knowledge (all things that can very easily be falsified by accident).
He has not been introduced by any mutual acquaintance, which is the basic security setting in their society, but he constructs this entire conversation to bypass that by giving Jack the emotional impression that he may as well have been. The only being whose acquaintance he claims is the giant tortoise, which cannot contradict him.
He has done his research and he knows exactly how to give the right impression.
In effect, he claims to be a fellow fan of Dr. Maturin, something he knows Jack also is, rather than a fan of Jack's; but without doing anything that could cause Dr. Maturin to find him out.
All the minor characters in this series are just brilliant. There are so many of them, and it's virtuoso stuff.
He's not just phishing, he's out to catch a whale.
"Když máš v chalupě orchestrión nevadí že do ní fičí."
Ne!
To teda vadí, jó to vadí! To vadí!
Protože pokud nechceš mít nešťastnej a rozladěnej orchestrión tak ho nebudeš vystavovat elementům.
Studies of actors’ headshots from the Feb-July 1925 issues of the Standard Casting Directory. This was how silent film actors advertised themselves, so it’s chock-full of interesting-looking people, & a great resource for anyone looking to design ‘20s-style characters
Nevertheless he reached across and took the piece of chalk, saying 'Will I tell you about my bell, so?'
'Oh yes!' she cried. 'I am longing to hear about your bell.'
'This, you must understand, is the bell seen sideways,' he said, drawing on the lamplit floor. 'Its height is eight feet; the window at the top is a yard across, as near as no matter; the width here, where the bench runs across, is a little better than four feet six; and the whole contains fifty-nine cubic feet of air!'
'Fifty-nine cubic feet?' said Laura Fielding: she had had a very long, very hard day, and a more attentive ear might have caught a note of despair under the bright, intelligent interest.
'Fifty-nine cubic feet to begin with, of course,' said Stephen, drawing two dwarfish figures on the bench and adding in parenthesis 'There sat the worthy Captain Dundas, and there sat I- elbow-room galore, as you see. But naturally as the bell sank, as it was lowered away a couple of fathoms, the water rose, compressing the air, so that we felt a certain pringling in our ears. When it reached the bench we raised our feet, thus,' - setting his own on the sofa - 'and plucked the cord, the signal for the barrel.' He drew the barrel with its two bung-holes and its leather hose travelling down guidelines to the lower edge of the bell, explaining that it was not quite to scale. 'Down it came, the good barrel, compressing its own air as it came, do you see? We seized the hose, and the moment we raised it above the surface - the surface of the water in the barrel, you understand - the compressed air rushed into the bell with inconceivable force and the water sank from the bench to the lower rim! And so the barrels came down one after another and so the dear bell sank, the light growing a little dim, but not too dim to read or write, oh no. We had lead slabs to write on with an iron stylus, which we sent up with a string; and to let out the vitiated air, so that it was always fresh, there was a little cock at the top. Will I draw you my little cock?'
Eventually he brought the bell to the bottom, and making a last effort she said 'The bottom of the sea, Mother of God: and what did you find there?'
'Worms!' he cried.'Such worms. Marine worms in great abundance… It was there that I made an inconsiderate step into the fetid mud of ages, yet it scarcely disturbed any but the nearest. These were of the plumed kind known as…'
At the beginning of his account of the Maltese annelids he noticed that her bosom was heaving. He knew very well that it was not heaving for him but he did not realize that grief was the cause until he reached the bizarre mating habits of Polychaeta rubra, when to his intense embarrassment and distress he saw tears coursing down her cheeks. His exposition faltered; their eyes met; she gave him a painfully artificial smile and then her chin trembled and she broke into passionate weeping at last.
--Treason's Harbour
Laughing at my own tags and the whole scene again.
I love this book so much for being a spin on all those spy novels.. instead of sexy and suave spy male protagonist we have Stephen.. And instead of the typical femme fatale we have Laura who just... Really doesnt want to be in that situation. So its all so beautifully awkward.
