#stockades

[pilloryarchieve]

Art by Yunue: https://www.instagram.com/yunno_desayunos

Character by Denisehyena: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/denisehyena

[thchildoflight]

Four Holidays, One Dungeon

Go home, Blizzard, you're drunk...

[immaculatelyamiss]

Perched high on a hill in the bustling Grant Park neighborhood, The Atlanta Stockade looks more like a haunted sanitarium than a former prison. Built in 1896, it served for decades as a minimum security, short-term prison for men, women and children alike. 
In 1924, the prisoners were moved to a new location, The Stockade was closed, and an elementary school (yes, really- an elementary school) was built on the property adjacent to the main building. The grand, turreted building served as a maintenance and repair facility and a furniture warehouse for the City of Atlanta school system until 1938- after which it lay vacant for decades. 
In 1983, The Stockade was sold by The City of Atlanta Schools to new owners who donated the property to a local ministry. The ministry renamed the building GlenCastle and it lays abandoned to this day. It’s currently being prepared for renovation into a community center for the area’s working poor.

[pilloryarchieve]

Artist: John Willie

[pilloryarchieve]

The Liberians: The Next Chapter: (S01E09) And the Feast Of The Vampire

[lordplumdabney]

its cool that dabnolio was availed to my regency once again but he wore his hat inside and before the Duchess' Notthern eyes ...... lowkey i remember now why i exiled him 🙄

[transformersmr-hq]

TFMR asdf - Send 'em to Stockades

Not-so long ago during Zeta Prime's regime, rumors regarding a mysterious facility at outskirts of Iacon began to spread. They said it was the place the government sent anyone who opposed them to, so that they can unleash many unspeakable horrors upon those who dared to challange their authority.

Rumors died down after the government announced that the building was merely a 'stockade', followed by strong accusations of Decepticon movement for provoking civil unrest. However, the whole incident left such an impression so that people used the word 'stockade' in witty comments they left on interweb forums. These 'stockade jokes' were somewhat similar to 'gulag jokes' used by Earth dwellers of today, the only difference being that the jokes focused on sarcasm towards government rather than bashing a dead communist nation from some non-existent organic alien world.

Of course, the joke disappeared when the rumor was later revealed to be very much true.

[oaken-evenshade]

What do you See in the Bright Moonwell?

A long, bone rattling belch reverberated off the prison walls.

Karey the Swinger patted his bulging stomach and let out a short bark of laughter. Craning his neck, he looked to the opposite corner of the prison. A lanky Kaldorei with a tangled mass of green hair was looking out through the cell bars, his nose slightly scrunched.

Karey belched again. “Did ya hear that one? Like thunder it was. Nay, more than thunder.” He snarfed down another spoonful of watery soup then addressed his inmate. “What’s sumtin’ more than thunder?”

Oaken, his appetite lost, set down his bowl of prison rations. “The world quaking? Another cataclysm?”

Karey’s round face vanished into his bowl as he slurped down the rest of his soup. The bowl dropped with a clank. “Yeah, yeah that’s good. Watch out…I be the next cataclysm”. He eyed Oaken’s bowl. “Ya gonna finish that?”

The bowl skid across the floor into Karey’s hands. Normally Oaken would be hesitant to give up his rations, but earlier that day he’d received news that his name had been cleared. Soon he would be free to leave the Stockades as the innocent being he was. Karey would likely live out his days in this cell. A little soup wasn’t hard to give up just now.

The greasy human held the warm bowl close to his chest and took a deep sniff. “This soup, it reminds me of me mum. The way it’s watered down an’ all. She had many a mouth to feed, always had to water down the soup.” Karey held up his spoon and eyed the Kaldorei. “What was yer ma like?”

Oaken shifted uneasily in his corner, caught off guard by the question. There were few memories he held of his min’da (mother). It had always bothered him that he struggled to remember what she looked like beyond her green hair and dimpled smile.

“She smiled easily and sang often.”

Karey licked his spoon. “She sing anything I’d know? I know all the songs, I’m a singer too.”

Rising to his feet, Oaken leaned the side of his head against the bars. “I only remember one song she sang. I don’t believe you’d know it.”

“Try me…sing it!”

“What?” Oaken glanced at the man.

“Sing it!” Karey waved the spoon threateningly.

Oaken studied his inmate for a moment. Karey the Swinger wasn’t a bad man. He was a loud and a crude man, but he had looked out for Oaken in his own way, punches and all. Whatever Karey’s sins for being imprisoned, Oaken still felt a spike of pity that the human should be condemned to this place.

“Alright” He nodded and cleared his throat. Would he remember all the words? Oaken began to sing, his voice deep and slow.

What do you see in the bright moonwell?

Where waters run deep and eternity dwells.

There lies Elune’s guiding light below.

In the shimmering pool of the moonwell’s glow.

Elune’s light begs the darkness flee.

A night without stars may you never see.

What do you see in the bright moonwell?

A forever light that cannot be quelled.

Karey had frozen in place, the spoon gripped tightly in his hands. He blinked a few times when the song was over. His usually harsh features had smoothed out and for a moment he held the innocence of youth in his face. Then he belched again and shrugged.

“Nay, yer right…never heard it.”

Oaken turned his back on the man and smiled to himself. Something had been restored to him in that song. A reminder that the things most precious cannot be taken away from a being, even in the deepest of cells.

Little did he know, that in a few hours he would be visited by a Grant Goldsteed. The stockades would shake and tremble, his cell door would swing open, and he would walk up into a night without stars.