some great ideas on how to be a menace to society
i love how the reactions to this post are either excited gremlin laughter or loud exclaimations of disgust and violence
Game of Thrones Daily

titsay
hello vonnie

Kaledo Art
Xuebing Du

tannertan36
Sweet Seals For You, Always

pixel skylines
styofa doing anything
Jules of Nature
todays bird

shark vs the universe
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Show & Tell
Claire Keane

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
No title available
dirt enthusiast
sheepfilms
Misplaced Lens Cap

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from Brazil

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Japan
seen from Italy

seen from Canada

seen from Lithuania

seen from Thailand

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
@roobixqube
some great ideas on how to be a menace to society
i love how the reactions to this post are either excited gremlin laughter or loud exclaimations of disgust and violence
Another mandrake that I harvested on a night of a pale full moon and with help from a hound as black as pitch. A christmas gift for our dear and bewitching Katinka Melancholia ♥
Is it possible to dress up like a ghost and fool people into thinking they’ve seen the real deal? Happily there is published research to answer this question, research carried out at no lesser institution than Cambridge University. For six nights in the summer of 1959, members of the Cambridge University Society for Research in Parapsychology took turns dressing up in a white muslin sheet and walking around in a well-traversed field behind the King’s College campus. Occasionally they would raise their arms, as ghosts will do. Other members of the team hid in bushes to observe the reaction of passersby. Although some eighty people were judged to have been in a position to see the figure, not one reacted or even gave it a second glance. The researchers found this surprising, especially given that the small herd of cows that grazed the field did, unlike the pedestrians, show considerable interest, such that two or three at a time would follow along behind the “ghost.” To my acute disappointment, “An Experiment in Apparitional Observation and Findings,” published in the September 1959 Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, includes no photographs. Several months later, the researchers revised their experiment, changing the venue and adding “low moans” and, on one occasion, phosphorescent paint. One trial was set in a graveyard right off a main road and clearly in the sight line of drivers in both directions. Here observers hid in the bushes not only to record reactions, but to “avert traffic accidents” and “reassure anyone who became hysterical.” But again, not a single person of the hundred-plus who saw the figure thought it was a ghost, including two students from India. “Although we are superstitious in our country,” the men told one of the researchers, “we could see his legs and feet and knew it was a man dressed up in some white garment.” In their final effort, the research team abandoned traditional ghost-apppropriate settings and moved the experiment into a movie theater that was screening an X-rated film. The author of the paper, A.D. Cornell, explained that the X rating was chosen to ensure no children were traumatized by the ghost, as though that somehow explained the choice of a porn theater as a setting for a ghost experiment. This time the “ghost” walked slowly across the screen during a trailer. The phosphorescence was not used this time and presumably low moans were deemed redundant. No mention is made of the specific images showing on the screen behind the ghost, but clearly they were a good deal more interesting: The audience was polled after the film, and forty-six percent of them didn’t notice the man in the sheet. Among those who did, not one thought he’d seen a ghost. (One man said he’d seen a polar bear.)
Spook,
by Mary Roach (via
astheshadowslovethecastle
)
“occasionally they would raise their arms, as ghosts will do.”
(via kelasparmak)
STRIATED
[adjective]
marked with striae; furrowed; striped; streaked.
Etymology: from Latin striāre, “to make grooves”.
[Sara Blake]
There’s lot of debate and explanations about alignment, so i’mma just add this to the pile.
This short, creepy video is pure, undiluted internet weirdness
Thus, the three-minute short film “Hi Stranger” by Kirsten Lepore is a welcome shot of please-just-watch-it grain-alcohol weirdness.
fucks sake
god dammit
Okay now which one is clearer? 1?
or 2?
Maybe just take off the glasses!?
Weep, you girls. My penis has given you up. Now it penetrates men’s behinds. Goodbye, wondrous femininity!
Roman graffiti
why is this weak ass font over a lake and some mountains they deserve better
THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT
can we take a moment to just think about how incredibly scary magical healing is in-context?
You get your insides ripped open but your friend waves his hands and your flesh just pulls back together, agony and evisceration pulling back to a ‘kinda hurts’ level of pain and you’re physically whole, with the 100% expectation that you’ll get back up and keep fighting whatever it was that struck you down the first time.
You break your arm after falling somewhere and after you’re healed instead of looking for ‘another way around’ everybody just looks at you and goes “okay try again”.
You’ve been fighting for hours, you’re hungry, thirsty, bleeding, crying from exhaustion, and a hand-wave happens and only two of those things go away. you’re still hungry, you’re still weak from thirst, but the handwave means you have ‘no excuse’ to stop.
You act out aggressively maybe punch a wall or gnash your teeth or hit your head on something and it’s hand-waved because it’s ‘such a small injury you probably can’t even feel it anymore’ but the point was that you felt it at all?
Your pain literally means nothing because as long as you’re not bleeding you’re not injured, right? Here drink this potion and who cares about the emotional exhaustion of that butchered village, why are you so reserved in camp don’t you think it’s fun retelling that time you fell through a burning building and with a hand-wave you got back up again and ran out with those two kids and their dog?
Older warriors who get a shiver around magic-users not because of the whole ‘fireball’ thing but the ‘I don’t know what a normal pain tolerance is anymore’ effect of too much healing. Permanent paralysis and loss of sensation in limbs is pretty much a given in the later years of any fighter’s life. Did I have a stroke or did the mage just heal too hard and now this side of my face doesn’t work? No i’m not dead from the dragon’s claws but I can’t even bend my torso anymore because of how the scar tissue grew out of me like a vine.
Magical healing is great and keeps casualties down.
But man.
That stuff is scary.
shit just got creepy
Or maybe magical healing doesn’t leave scars or damage. It is magical, after all.
So after years of fighting, your skin is still perfect. Unmarred. In fact, you’re actually in better shape than regular people who don’t get magical healing when they fall out of trees or walk into doors or cut themselves while cooking dinner. You’re in such good shape that it’s unnatural.
And the really good healing magic takes away more than just the obvious injuries. You first start noticing it after about ten years when you go home and haha, you look the same age as your younger sibling, that’s funny.
Not so funny ten years later when they look older. Or forty years later, when you bury them still looking like you did at twenty. When do you retire from this gig anyway? How much damage is too much damage?
How many times do you glimpse the afterlife, or worse, how many times don’t you? What do you live through, get used to, show no outward sign of except a perfectly healthy body, too perfect for any person living a real life.
How many times are you sitting in a tavern with your friends and you hear the whispers, because the people around you know. How can they not know? Your weapons shine with enchantments and your armour is better than the best money can buy and there is not a damn scar on you. You hardly seem human to them.
How long before you hardly seem human to yourself?
And you find yourself struggling to remember the places where the scars should have been, phantom pains that wake you screaming, touching all the old injuries and finding nothing there. It’s all in your head. Was it ever anywhere else?
How long before you’re fighting a lich or a vampire or some other undead monster and you wonder…
…what makes me so different?
Here we go someone who GETS IT.
@predatsu
@ostrichmonkey
@gemlikegemstone
Thanks to the reviewer over at Amazon who rated our Hexopedia four stars: “Interesting read! So far, the effects are subtle, but they are there.”
Meanwhile, here’s a page from the book, revealing the forgotten secret of bibliomancy.
Reblog if you're a Slytherin.
gryffindor | ravenclaw | hufflepuff
Bring me the FEETIES
Lemme read them beans
“Ah yes another beautiful set of beans. In your future I see….kisses” *i kiss the cat on the head* “thanks for coming! Next customer please!” … “Ah yes another beautiful set of beans-”
Fantasy does NOT have to follow real world rules. Fantasy does NOT have to relate to some real world event, country, concept, law, or history. Fantasy does NOT have to mirror any particular time period or country, even if you’re basing your world on a real world one. There is NO SUCH THING as “historical accuracy” in fantasy as it relates to the real world.
THE ONLY THING Fantasy has to do to be believable is follow the established rules OF ITS OWN WORLD. Fantasy can literally be anything you imagine it to be.
If your fantasy world excludes people of color or those belonging to the LGBT+ community, if it’s grossly misogynistic and white cis-male centric, that’s because YOU made it that way. Stop blaming “historical accuracy” or “believability”. It’s not the genre; it’s YOU.
“Lie close,” Laura said, Pricking up her golden head: “We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?”
A wolf goes for a walk in the woods and meets a dog for the first time
Male writers writing female characters:
“Cassandra woke up to the rays of the sun streaming through the slats on her blinds, cascading over her naked chest. She stretched, her breasts lifting with her arms as she greeted the sun. She rolled out of bed and put on a shirt, her nipples prominently showing through the thin fabric. She breasted boobily to the stairs, and titted downwards.”
‘ She breasted boobily to the stairs, and titted downwards’ is the greatest fucking sentence I have ever read.
Another scan from Guy Deutscher’s The Unfolding of Language.