it's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me

Not my usual gig, but this made my jaw drop so hard, I had to cover it. And there are likely many, many people who won't entirely get this, but...it must be said.

So I'm fairly behind on Critical Role, which is an online show featuring a bunch of professional voice actors (and at least one child actor turned adult) being filmed while playing Dungeons and Dragons.

But I'm up to Episode 78 of Campaign 2, and...let's pause a moment and explain Sam Riegel.

...

There's no explanation for Sam Riegel. Let's just sum up what he's doing here. For the...two years? Two years! Critical Role has been running (at the time of ep. 78, at least), Sam has been doing on-the-spot comedy promos for DnD Beyond, the official digital support program for keeping track of character sheets, spells and the like for paper gamers.

In this episode...he went...well, his version of goth. And as the "Web Weaver", he essentially did a surfer dude's take on what goth culture is. Taliesin's face during this...abomination...was intense.

Now, that video gives you the exact play by play, but I wanted to pull out a few screen captures to focus on.



But Sam, Sam, Taliesin is right there! His Twitter handle is @executivegoth, for the love of all things! How can you say that?



Because what else would he say? It was a staggeringly disconnected statement from Sam's everyday reality, which includes a goth person.

Sam retorted in response, that Taliesin seems so normal, and:



I bet. After Surfer Goff Emo Boi...



It was indeed. This would be a shock of cold water to the gothic soul.



Anyone would.



AND THIS WAS THE BIT THAT BROKE MY BRAIN, because--



They were all at a live show of Critical Role in Indiamapolis! In August!



EVERYONE made the choice to go goth for the live show! So Sam...Sam...YOU SAW TALIESIN'S GOTH SELF! How can you have forgotten from August to October??



How could you have MISSED this, Riegel??

I'm baffled. It's baffling.

I...I have no words.

you march in the dark, little lamb to the slaughter (part the second)

(Continued from part one.)

"Did you fall through the floor?" I half-shouted. "A trap door under the rug, clever, clever." The doctor shook her head. "I think he phased..." I shook mine. "That's not good..."

"If I start raving incoherently," the lady in pink said, "just drop me in my ice bath and back out of my house." The doctor snorted. "If I were to do something every time you raved incoherently, I would be working twenty-four hours a day." I tried not to laugh, only to see her nod sagely. "Yes, it did occur to me that might be a full time job." Well, can't argue there.



"Definitely phased," I said, standing, in time to see Hiro limp into the room, fur damp from the exertion of getting up the stairs. I turned to walk to him as he crossed the floor--and the door opened again. "Oh no," was all he said, in a quiet voice.



How did it OPEN again, I thought wildly, watching the doctor pull some strange metallic wand from her medical bag, and point it at the door. I reeled back from the bright burst of light, as an arc of seeming electricity flew from the wand tip to the heaviest of the tentacles wrapped again around the Duke. "What on earth--" I stared, and the doctor just shook her head. "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies," she said, and what else was I do do but accept that?



"Can we lock that thing again?" I cried out. Hiro wrestled with it, breathing hard. "Okay," he finally said. "Maybe we need help." NOW he says we need help??



The doctor and I watched the tentacles detach, and--something--else--pushing its way through the mass of writhing limbs, and we ran together to the door, in a frenzy now to close it. Through dint of sheer effort, more muttered incantations, something the doctor did that caused a sizzling sound, and kicking, we finally got everything that was on the other side of the door, back on the other side of the door, and the door firmly shut. I looked around for what to do next but the doctor was already prepared, sliding a metal bar in front of the door that seemed to auto-attach to the wall, and pulling out a heavy, ornate padlock, clasping it closed through two thick holes on one side. She turned, handing me something else, something...dark...wrapped in stained parchment.

"If that thing gets out again...and gets hungry again...feed it this," she said, placing it in my hand. "I got this in Babbage with a friend of mine. Hunting with him." She explained that it had started out life as blood sausage, but that now, it had a mix of certain herbs, and had been soaked in holy water. I watched the lady in pink take a step back.



Hiro looked around, dizzy, swaying on his paws. He looked down. "Oh," he said faintly. "I am not clothed." I leaned in closer. "I was going to point that out," I murmured. I thought the crisis was over until a mad light gleamed in his eyes, and he turned around, staring at the lady in pink. "Is this--your doing?" he asked, the words halting at first, but gaining in strength. "Is this some vile godless Communist--stuff?"

I blinked. I looked at the doctor. "Could it have--affected his mind somehow?" Though I realized, he was already coated with--something, and that could be affecting on its own. The doctor shrugged. "I suggest he bathes, possibly with a little holy water, some old salts I got from some very strange and distant relatives..." And she pointed her chin in the direction of the vial I still held, that I could feel was very old, very powerful...and very fae. I slipped it into my pocket, staring at her. She just smiled.



I turned back to Hiro. "Oh, please. She had nothing to do with this," just as the she in question added, "I doubt it." His eyes flicked to me, then to her, then back to me, widening.

"No offense," the doctor said. "but she's not remotely capable of causing this amount of trouble..." I nodded, watching him. "Or, at least, it's different trouble. Not interdimensional beast trouble." I leaned closer, whispering "That's mostly us," to the Duke.

For her part, the lady in pink just sighed and looked at the ceiling. "I try to be a model citizen."

But he would not be calmed. "Who pushed us to rent this place?" he asked, his voice rising. "Is this some plot? Is this--"

I patted his arm. "Now, now," I said, I hoped helpfully. "I suggested this shop to you because of the office. You remember that."

He turned shocked, and now angry eyes to me. "Et tu, Emilly?" The doctor sighed. "Hiro, this is not some plot." I just narrowed my eyes.

"Oh, we're suspecting ME now?" The doctor nodded. "If that thing was known, don't you think someone would have bombed the thing by now?" Or perhaps destroyed the entire French quarter, I thought. I looked up in time to see the Duke sway forward, barely catching him in my arms, struggling to keep him upright.

"Right. Back to Gearhaven. You need a bath. Possibly in holy water."

"Could you do me a favor?" he asked weakly, swiveling his gaze to mine. "And not mention this to..." He trailed off, and I frowned. "I have been, uh..." He trailed off again. I just wrinkled my nose at him. "Under the weather?" I asked. As if a few years of sanitarium care and my guardianship of his lands were nothing more than a summer cold. He simply nodded, however. "I have been attempting to get to know her," he whispered. "Just to discuss her career..." I shook my head. "Yes, I know, Hiro," I whispered back. I looked worriedly at the doctor.

He murmured something I barely caught, about 'Unseelie mama juju', shaking my head. "I may have something else," I said, looking at the doctor. "Hush, now, we'll be home soon."

Thankfully, transport portals were a simple magic, known by many island residents. I quickly summononed one while looking around the room. "I do apologize, everyone. I hope the goat was not too disturbed." Great, now I'm the one sounding deranged. I watched the doctor take some nails that were left over from an emptied crate, touch the strangely charged rod to them, and watched as they screwed in along the door, stranding faint lines of blue-white light between each pair.

"There," she said. "Charged with enough extradimensional etheric energy to make sure any supernatural that wants to get near the door hates it..." I nodded. "Good idea." I activated the portal, and the last thing I heard as we faded from view was the doctor saying "That is one tough goat" to the artist. "Most would have run away."

"I'm sure he'll be...fine..." I murmured, into the sparkle, and even I wasn't sure if I was talking about the goat, or the Duke...

you march in the dark, little lamb to the slaughter (part the first)

{Roleplay entry--yeah, it's been a while since one of those, innit? They're going to start up again...}

I sort of hit this one running, so to speak. My Duke told me he'd traveled to a certain mysterious island, and offered to pull me through the nearest portal, which happened to be the somewhat permanent one around the newspaper box just outside a local club. I arrived midway through a conversation about dimensional shifts, and tried to find my footing. I found my leopard Duke in human form, as he'd recently acquired some spells of shapeshifting he'd been experimenting with.

As we were conversing, one of the residents approached, wearing a decidedly quirky set of pink overalls, and bid us good morning. Then next the horse- and sword-mistress. The dreaded--and thankfully brief--infestation of spectral clowns was discussed, which thankfully were easily banished, and that's when the island's artist--and his pet pygmy goat--showed up.

The conversation turned to local disturbances in the time-space continuum, a recurring concern, and several of us agreed, something should definitely be done...at some point. And that, dear readers, is when the Duke mentioned finding a mysterious door.



I admit, technically, I found it, but I didn't realize what it was--I'd been stripping old wallpaper off the offices walls, and uncovered what looked, for all of me, as a series of old slats. I left a note for the Duke and then had to leave for parts elsewhere, and farther forward in time.

So by the time I remembered, the Duke was already bringing it up to the island doctor--and real estate operator--that he had a mysterious door in the office, and no key. Did the doctor have the key?

And nothing else would serve but that all of us, apparently, trooped over to the voodoo shop and climbed the side stairs to the office.

While we walked, the doctor told us that the French Quarter on the island actually dated back to the days of pirates and high seas smuggling. We were unaware.



By the time we reached the office, it was a mini parade. But we all crowded in, and everyone looked at the door. And it looked much more like a door than it had previously. That concerned me. But I held my peace as the Duke asked the doctor for the key. He carefully turned it in the seemingly rusted lock, fighting the tumblers a bit, and stepped back.

The door did not open.

We pondered waiting for the houngan who owned the shop--who I'd thought was off on the far side of the island, researching rumors of zombies. In the end, though, he directed the doctor on one side, prying open the door, with the other lass on the other side, tugging on the doorknob, and with the dint of much effort, it opened.



Spilling rugose, pulsating tentacles around the Duke, who was of course standing in the path of the open door. Because where else would he be?

He cried out for me, or--at least I thought he did? It was something like, "Emmfls--"



And then all hell broke loose, if one doesn't count flailing tentacles as hell already. The doctor readied syringes and throwing daggers, I ran to the desk on the far side, wondering if I had any tome on the island that would send...whatever that was...away...

It started to shred his clothing, the suckers attaching to bare flesh, while I frantically went through the books on the floor. One of the women made sly remarks about Hiro's new pet while the doctor went to the heavier sedatives.

Several daggers later, the doctor reached for the last two things in her bag. Setting one aside, she loaded in one she said were horse tranquilizers. Oh, if that didn't work--

"Come on, your glorified seafood dish--time to go to sleep and leave him alone!" she yelled. I tended to agree. But, sadly, I had nothing that would work. I stepped as close as I dared and tried to pry tentacles off him, but it was a straining effort--they did not WANT to let go.



The doctor watched for signs of slowing, and there did seem to be some, but not nearly enough. She held up the last vial, a mix of pureed Japanese fugu liver and cyanide. While she prepped that, I heard a thunk on the desk behind me and turned. That book was...not there before. And not one we owned.



Hoping against hope, I grabbed it, flipping to the page with the most tentacle drawings, read through the language and thought I'd do it well enough, and began to intone words that should never be heard in the light of day. I had to bat tentacles away to do it, too--they curled across the room, trying to steal the book!



Meanwhile, the artist wrote on the little noteboard he carries everywhere, "On this very day, a courageous battle ensued in the Voodoo House."



And finally, finally--the door closed. The Duke collapsed, the doctor moving to his side, clucking over the wounds. They weren't deep, but they were numerous, and--most disturbing--weren't even bleeding for the most part, covered as they were with some sticky, translucent fluid.

He looked up weakly from the floor. "This isn't coming out of my deposit, is it?" I just sighed and tossed the book on the desk. The doctor echoed the sigh, saying she would ask the island's governor. As if any of that mattered, right now!

I walked over to the door, knowing a grimace marred my visage. I tapped at it, and heard, dimly, a disturbing echo, as if there was a great deal of...space...behind the locked wood. I shook my head. "You know, Hiro, there is going to be a time where spellcraft is NOT going to get you out of these things."

Meanwhile, the doctor opened up the package the artist had fetched. Some bags of plasma, some transfusion equipment, a medical bag, and something she covered up quickly that looked...surprisingly heavy, with a dull sheen.

And then all hell broke loose AGAIN. The Duke began chanting, in a strange, uncanny tone "Coronzon, zacare ca od zamran, odo cicle qaa, zorge lap zirdo noco Vovin, hoath drilp! Yolcam ialprg iaida!" The artist shook his head. "A smell of savagery lingers on the air," he murmured. The doctor just set to work on the worst of the wounds.

"Yolcam ialprg iaida!" chanted the Duke again. "Maybe he has been possessed by that demon monster," the artist helpfully added. I walked to the doctor's side, leaning in.

"If that's isotope-based," I said to her quietly, "that might cause some...confusion...in forms for him." For all that I'm a born shapeshifter, even spellchanged shifters have occasional problems with certain substances.

"Zacare, ca, od Zamran! Odo cicle qaa zorge, lap zirdo noco Mad, hoath laida!" Hiro yelled. The artist stepped forward. "He speaks the language of the creature, we must shove him inside the door!"

I turned rapidly to the artist. "Wait, what?" And the doctor shook her head, spooling silk thread on a curved needle. "No, no no, we don't want to open that door again, period." I tended to agree.

"Cure him, Doc, exorcise the demon from this poor defeated man!" I stared at the artist in numb horror, then turned to the doctor, who just shrugged, looking at the Duke. "You are just lucky your friend did not eat the goat."

The lady in pink looked around, frowning behind her dark shades. "Where's that priest when you need him?" The doctor answered that he was off fighting zombies. Because of course we don't just have temporal anomalies and mystical portals and occasional infestations of dancing clowns, we now have zombies too!

"YOLCAM GMICALZ VOVINA LANSH!" shouted the Duke, followed by what sounded like fervent cursing, and I quickly knelt, clapping my hand over his muzzle. This was maddening. We shut the door, why was he still--

I looked at the doctor. "Should I just take him home?" At that, he passed out.

The artist said, unhelpfully, that we should jail him, in case he transformed into another iteration of the tentacled beast. Miss Esther shook her head. "These sorts of things are not as easy as they appear. Diagnostics are required prior to any exorcism. Damnation may well be a pre-existing condition in this and similar cases, complicating any exorcism of current troubles."



My eyebrows went up. Clearly, she knew more than I'd assumed. The doctor knelt next to me, as I stroked my hand through his fur. "Clearly, I should not have left you here alone," I murmured. "I see that now." A soft nudge from the doctor drew my attention, and she quietly extended a small vial, wrapped in a tracery of silver vines, the entirety softly glowing. My eyes widened, looking up, just in time to see Hiro phase through the floor.

Oh, what now...

(Continued in part two!)

and we're lost in a daze for days and days and days and now

This is going to take a while to sort through, but I think it's worth it--it is a gargantuan list of free fiction books, textbooks, childrens' books, plays, non-fiction works, cookbooks...with a special section at the bottom of books that are not free, but valued nonetheless, and how to find them. Have at.

Meanwhile, in the midst of some...very odd happenings...on the Isle, this started:

[10:31] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: nice tits ;)

Really? That's your opener?

[10:32] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): ...Thank you? Have we met?
[10:33] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: not really just from your profile photo to be honest

Well, you're off to a stupendous start, truly.

[10:33] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Oh, all right.
[10:34] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: i hope i did not bother you emilly

And in the midst of clicking the window closed, I stopped. Huh. Random idiots usually don't apologize.

[10:34] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): No, no, it was just out of nowhere. :)
[10:34] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: oh yeah i saw your profile in a group chat and i like the photo
[10:35] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr) smiles

No idea what group, because none of his openly shown groups match any of mine, but okay.

[10:36] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: and your partner is a very lucky guy btw
[10:36] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Oh, thank you.

Though, you know, I come down on the other side of that. I think I'm very lucky.

[10:38] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: can i ask you the usual questions

If you type a/s/l, I swear...

[10:38] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Sure.
[10:38] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: where are you from

And then things kicked into gear on the Isle, expect that in a later entry, and I got a tad bit distracted.

[10:40] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: is it bad question
[10:41] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): No no
[10:41] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Just something else was happening
[10:41] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): U.S.
[10:41] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: nice to meet . im from jordan
[10:42] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Oh, wow!
[10:42] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: far away . right ? :D

Yeah. Also, this fellow was literally the second person from Jordan I'd ever run across. (Sure, there could easily have been others, but I mean, people who told me where they were from.)

[10:45] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: you seems busy now ;)

I kind of was. There were tentacles.

[10:45] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: hope we talk sometime
[10:46] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): It is far away, and sorry, RP picked up somewhere. :)
[10:47] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: cool . enjoy your RP . can i add you to chat sometime
[10:47] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Sure.
[10:47] Second Life:
[10:47] Second Life: Friendship offer accepted.

I must be losing my edge.

[10:47] Second Life: [wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx] is online.
[10:47] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: ty
[10:48] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: enjoy the rp . and we gonna talk about the RP next time
[10:48] wxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: enjoy
[10:48] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Thanks!

And then we got back to trying to kill, sedate or banish the Thing From Beyond the Door...but...I don't know. I guess I was in a good mood? We'll see how this goes. In the end, he wasn't a COMPLETE idiot, so...new friend?

[Note from the Editrix: This was up for nearly a full day before someone pointed out I'd left the fellow's name visible. Please accept that was not the intention. He's a decent guy, he just had an utterly crap opening line.]

it's funny how a word might save your life, and I'm saying a lot right now

Why do we believe in conspiracy theories? Atlas Obscura believes it has something to do with missing enchantment.

From another service, because it's true:

[10:51 AM] Emilly:

"Guys I think that maybe your government might be corrupt." @Lxxxxxx

*cackles insanely for a moment*
[10:51 AM] Emilly: Oh, YOU THINK??

Meanwhile...

[21:21] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr) stares at the pipe organ and sighs. "I married a man devoted to strange angles."

Pretty much, apparently.

SO! Point of this. I am wandering. Several several centuries ago, back when we had wood-burning cats, I went to the last dance at the Bashful Peacock. I took extensive pictures. I took extensive notes. And then....the world exploded, and Em's driver ended up getting a new computer, but forgot to pull the secondary drive out of the old one, so she has eight of the nine pictures on the new drive, NOT the full nine, and...no notes.

AND EM IS TIRED OF WAITING, so...here we go.



For anyone who doesn't know, the Peacock was Caledon's premier accepting space in Caledon. Owned by Rudolfo Woodget, one of the kindest souls on the grid, it threw its doors--and its lawns--open to anyone, without reservation. Whether or not that person was in a Boston marriage themselves, so to speak, or not.



I had to dig way back in the archives to find the picture I was thinking of, which I'm still not convinced is my first coverage of the place, but that dates back to this entry from 2008. 2008! That's how established the Bashful Peacock is!



Or was, but we'll get to that. This is Mr. Woodget, by the way, for those who may not know. He was dedicated to having a Caledonian safe space for dances, gentle teas, small gatherings. And it truly did not matter to him who attended--gay, straight, smooth-skinned or fur, Tiny or Big...he was happy to see everyone, as long as they didn't cause problems.



I used to be in near-weekly attendance, because I loved the space and I loved the people. One of Radio Riel's best DJs, Otenth Paderborn, would spin there frequently, and this last time, he was back in style.



I had notes on who the little penguin was. Gone now. She was adorable, though.

I don't know why I stopped going to events. I had been a near-regular, had even hosted RR dances there, way back when. I think, losing my own bit of Morgaine, wandering into more modern spaces, I detached a bit too much, from friends and casual acquaintances alike. It was one of many places I thought was just better off that I not return to, so as to avoid any potential disturbance.



I wanted a couple wide-angle shots not only to show the layout, but to point out who was there, and of course I have no idea now. I do remember Duchess Gabrielle Riel was there, with her consort, and a genial mix of faces new to me and not new. Because this wasn't just a farewell to the Peacock, after all; it was a farewell to Wellsian. This was just before both Wellsian and Morgaine disappeared into the Caledonian mists.



And Wellsian really was a very pretty sim, especially near the Peacock. Butting up against Morgaine as it did, both shared a VERY high mountain range, but past that, Wellsian was gentle slopes and cavorting wildlife and pretty little houses and charm. Charm for days.



It and Morgaine will be missed, by several of us, for quite some time. All things change, I know that, but it was a change many of us sincerely didn't want. Though we had no power to alter it.

And while at the time Mr. Woodget said he would be bringing the Peacock back, in some form, no one's yet heard. So these pictures are to commemorate one of the greatest cozy spaces on the grid, and the gentle soul who ran it, and I do sincerely hope he decides to run something similar again.

the night is coming and the starling flew for days

This may be the best site in the history of ever. It's a growing archive of women who have done phenomenal things, usually at the risk to their own safety, because they felt they had to, because they felt it was important, because no one else was stepping up to do it.

In the meantime...



Well, that's not something you see every day. This is the What's Lost Spirits store. Or...something.



I found this very odd...creature...thing...in a store I'd landed in on one of the sales list I wander every week. I can't even really describe it--it was all elongated limbs, pointed head, cell-blast silver-grey skin...and of course, I pondered getting it to put it...somewhere...on the sim I'm helping to build. For reasons.



I didn't grab a picture of that, but when I went to what I thought was the store to get the strange...creature...thing? Well. I found Lost Spirits.

None of these pictures are altered in any way. I wanted to present exactly what I saw--no photoprocessing, no lightening, just--what's there. Because what's there is eerie, beautiful, disturbing, unnerving, surreal...and amazing.



This seemed to be the main form of transit--floating elongated elephant platforms that slowly rise and fall between levels. Because of course it is.

All of this, by the way, seems to be the brain child--or fever dream--of Ms. Stabitha (what88.zond). I'm told she changes the landscape every couple of years, and not sure how long this build of things has been up, in that case? But...yes.


Floating islands, chained to rocks, stacked hexagons of stone, huge, dimly glowing crystals, faces rising from the bases of buildings. Hands reaching for the stillborn sky. This is not my mental landscape, but...it resonates.

And I am very cognizant that--while so far I'm one of only two that's seen it--one of the first structures I put up on the developing sim was a series of floating rocks, chained to the land. It's not this--I hadn't seen this yet--but...recognition, nonetheless.



I never managed to find where that odd alien creature was, on this sim. I looked. There are places it seems the only way to access is by flight, so...rather than investigate further on foot, I just looked. I did end up buying the hand trees, though. And the cultists outside the castle on the sim? They began life here.



Atop the screaming island is a coffee bar with some brooding residents. I don't know how much is for sale, here, honestly, though I do know that the first picture of the tower-hatted individual is for sale--floating island, hat and all. And while I'll have to edit this later and put the name of the artist up, everything I unpacked from here contained a card saying that if we didn't find something we were looking for, just ask. I may ask for that silver-skinned thing.



Turns out, if one Googles "What's Lost Spirits", a lot turns up, but...most of it is post-processed, colored, different effects added, or shot in SL's day cycle. And...no. You can go look at the videos and other blog entries if you want, but...you really need to go here. Stand in the stillness. Breathe in the peaceful grey. Ride the elephant platform. And wander as far as you can.

It's one of those sims where I don't know what everything on it means, but I do know that it means.

is it me or is the medicine working?

Just to warn everyone: this is aggressively NSFW. But it's another really fun take on COVID precautions.

Meanwhile...Yeah, had to grab this bit. I'd been talking about the coming heat wave, which, yes, is in force today:

[13:33] vxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: My mood when I'm running errands is correspondingly sour - I can do mask or I can do this heat. But doing both at the same time is just disgusting.
[13:33] vxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: Ooh, I hope it cools a little sooner for you.
[13:33] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): But who knows these days? 2020 is the year with murder hornets and zombie cicadas, so everything's up in the air
[13:34] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Yeah, summer+masks, no fun, I agree
[13:34] vxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: But at the same time, COVER YOUR NOSE.
[13:35] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr) grins
[13:35] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Ah, you have met the chinstrap brigade, I see
[13:35] vxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: Honestly, your double-chin isn't transmitting anything.
[13:35] vxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: It's safe.
[13:36] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): NO
[13:36] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): MUST PROTECC
[13:36] vxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: heee
[13:36] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr) grins
[13:36] vxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: I heard that the transit authority in Berlin has suggested that its regular riders *refrain* from wearing deodorant, to encourage nose-covering.
[13:36] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): I actually...oh, my god...I was in a store about a week ago. Saw someone remove their mask...TO COUGH.
[13:37] vxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: omFG.
[13:37] Bxx Hxxxx: Agh.
[13:37] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): It was one of those funny-not-funny moments? Like cats turning around and discovering a cucumber

There's actually a few potential reasons why cats get shocked by cucumbers--the main two being shocked by the sudden change in their environment, and the initial resemblance to a snake--something they need to jump away from, then attck if it moves.

And it's not the funny thing it seems, just FYI--humans are essentially deliberately scaring their cats just for fun, so...try not to do that?

[13:37] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): Suddenly EVERYONE jumped away
[13:37] vxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx nods
[13:37] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): In all directions
[13:37] Bxx Hxxxx: I'll bet they did!
[13:38] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): And I'm standing there, thinking, Don't laugh, don't laugh, someone will likely KILL you if you laugh...
[13:38] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): But it was so hard not to
[13:38] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): It's like, thank you for being today's object lesson, sir, please go home

Anyway. On to mesh body things! Specifically, Maitreya body weirdness?

Now, I'd been hearing this here and there, didn't really understand the why of it, and frankly, didn't care enough to track it down, but apparently it is a big deal:

"Hi there,

"Recently Maitreya has updated their Lara body to version 5.2, this newest version includes the option to change the size of the feet so new shoe models are rigged to this new version to make them work perfectly with the body. This way customers will be able to change the size of their feet."

Now, I'm still back on 5.0, so I will likely need to go get the update, but seriously? First Slink updates so that Maitreya users can't buy their shoes (and seriously, Slink, that was dumb, that killed sales), and now ALL older shoes need to do this size-change trick?

"So what does this means? older shoe models will still work with your new udated version of the Maitreya Lara body as long as you keep your feet size in 25 value, and newest models, in my case all models released since the 8th of August 2020, will also allow you to change your feet size and make them bigger and smaller."

I...guess? This is...useful?? Maybe?

"So for older models just wear your Lara body and keep your feet size at 25 and for newer models just do whatever you prefer.

"Hope this helps you all.

"Best regards,

"Eudora3D (Daniel)"

So, if it helps anyone...It doesn't affect me, yet, I'm still on 5.0, as said. But when I update, it probably will...because I have a lot of older shoes. Especially in the steampunk and Victorian folders!

I'm not looking for salvation, just a little faith in anyone or anything

From another messaging service, and maybe I'm the only one who found this funny:

[12:16 AM] Emilly: Okay, the Em is very confused. She had checked she wanted something. Came to about L$50? Went to the sheet to verify. Not there.
[12:16 AM] Emilly: I mean, I'm still willing to pay [@Sxxxx], but...how much do I owe if nothing's marked now??
[12:25 AM] Sxxxx: neither page shows you as being in on anything you haven't paid for yet
[12:25 AM] Sxxxx: so you owe nothing it would seem!
[12:25 AM] Emilly: I'm confused!
[12:25 AM] Emilly: What did I want!
[12:26 AM] Emilly reads that again. Truly, a question for the ages.
[12:26 AM] Emilly: But still!
[12:28 AM] Sxxxx: nothing, apparently
[12:28 AM] Sxxxx: you wanted nothing :p
[12:31 AM] Emilly: My life is a mystery
[12:32 AM] Sxxxx: and your past is history
[12:32 AM] Sxxxx: but your now, is a gift
[12:32 AM] Sxxxx: that's why they call it the present
[12:33 AM] Emilly: You went all this way just for that?

I'm surrounded by punsters.

This legitimately made me tear up. So many shelter cats need love. And the art is fantastic on that mini-comic, too.

"If I have learned anything in this long life of mine, it is this: in love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are."
~Kristin Hannah, The Nightingale

For entirely separate reasons, I went through the rather inordinate amount of saved snippets of chat I have, things people have said, former things I've put on the SL bio, actual quotes from beyond the grid, et cetera...And some of them were too good not to share.

[12:58] Trin1 Resident: An apple a day will keep anyone away if you throw it hard enough

Always a point.

[4:55] Dannyboy Lightfoot: nice to see you can still say something that clearly makes complete sense in the world you inhabit, but is brilliantly meaningless to me

I raise confusion to a professional level.

[14:29] KlausWulfenbach Outlander: Chaos, destruction, death, agony, sinking, and an open bar.

Ah, St. Kitts...I still have pictures from the explosion, somewhere.

[12:56] Valerie Bluebird: My great uncle used to play the pangolin.
[13:02] Charlemagne Allen: Kinky

I still don't have a response for that.

[00:20] Sei Valentine (selectmemory): DON'T WAKE THE GAZEBO.

I'll try not to.

[20:05] Edward Pearse thinks Miss Cornelia has ODed on sugar again
[20:05] Cornelia Rothschild: What is this 'again' you speak of? 'Again' implies cessation.

She has a point.

[3:09] Ninja Tsiolkovsky: The fun part is finding out which parts of you are dangerous to touch.
[3:10] Emilly Orr: Wise words indeed.

Usually.

[23:12] Ninja Tsiolkovsky kisses your cheek sweetly
[23:12] Emilly Orr smiles
[23:12] Emilly Orr: And hello to you too.
[23:13] Ninja Tsiolkovsky: lips speak louder than words
[23:14] Emilly Orr: Sometimes.
[23:15] Ninja Tsiolkovsky: they do when they have gunpowder smeared over them
[23:15] Ninja Tsiolkovsky lights a match to your cheek
[23:15] Emilly Orr: Eep!

At times, I do particularly miss this demented madman.

[21:24] Desmond Shang: Kami, please stop drawing things on the caledon minicontinent map in downed regions. Thanks, Des
[21:25] Kamilah Hauptmann: And for my next performance, the Caledon Happyface in downed regions.
[21:25] Desmond Shang: shakes fist

And this is why I love Caledon.

[22:47] Emilly Orr: What did you roll in that made you sticky?
[22:47] Tanarian Davies: Bandwidth.

Isn't it always the way?

[21:06] Sahfur Silvera: if you sparkle in the sun...you are irradiated
[21:06] Oxana Vemo: Nothing quite says 'fear me' like glitter

Truth.

[02:52] narin Tomsen: whats that thingy called that ya toss your sculpts into and it makes them up all at once?
[02:52] Asadora (asadora.summers): sanity?

I...guess??

[19:24] Magdalena Outlander: Welcome to Caledon, where we beat the English language into shapes that can only be described with non-Euclidean geometry.

Frequently.

[11:32 PM] TriloByte Zanzibar: think of it as enblightenment

Okay.

[03:00] Fawkes Allen: "THE WATER IS NOW MADE OF BLOOD THAT IS ITSELF MADE OF FIRE, YES. EVERYTHING IS FINE, HOWEVER."

If you're sure.

[16:22] Nix Sands: How long does the Clockwork ball go to?
[16:22] Ilsa Munro: Till it winds down

*Ahem*.

[17:25] Xero Silverspar: Dog-drinking? This explains why someone salted the rim of my chihuahua.

If I remembered what conversation spawned this line, I would tell you.

[23:45] Magdalena Kamenev: Well, it was the 90s, after all.
[23:45] Magdalena Kamenev: Passe was big back then.

True.

[22:25] Frequency Picnic: War Linden, Pestilence Linden, Famine Linden...who's the 4th?
[22:25] Shalmendo Glineux: Torley

Probably.

[23:15] Kamilah Hauptmann: Des solves headaches with a six pack of Rock Stars. O_o
[23:15] Desmond Shang: sometimes you just gotta raaaawr through stuff.
[23:15] Desmond Shang: as they say, "git r dun"
[23:15] Emilly Orr: You did not just say that

Tch.

[3:00] Neome Graves: It is not my fault that the antelope are hard to steer.

Whose fault is it, then?

[17:26] Cornelia Rothschild follows her Coke with several lollipop chasers.
[17:27] Karsten Rutledge grins.
[17:27] Karsten Rutledge: Wired yet?
[17:27] Cornelia Rothschild: I can see forever. O_O

The sugar addiction, to be fair, is well known.

[20:09] Nite Page: "Not to be dinged, dented, crushed, bopped, or sniped in any way."
[20:09] DJ Buck Mellow (djbuck.mellow): who reads labels?

These days?

[22:55] Desmond Shang is trying to just be normal... which is insanely difficult
[22:55] Baron Klaus Wulfenbach (klauswulfenbach.outlander): Bah. Overrated.

Very much so.

[20:48] IsaDaft Trollop: I'm sitting still with my love and not camming around as the textures are taking forever to load.
[20:50] Emilly Orr: Mood.

Nearly always.

[16:44] Rudolfo Woodget: It's not the years, it's the mileage.

Forty-seven miles of barbed wire, mm-hmm.

[21:18] Tao Mistwalker: Just because I'm delusional doesn't mean I'm wrong.
[21:18] Emilly Orr: Well put

It is.

And some actual quotes:

"Opportunities to find deeper powers within ourselves come when life seems most challenging."
~Joseph Campbell

"Love is a snowmobile racing across the frozen tundra until suddenly, it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come."
~Matt Groenig

"Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together."
~Vincent Van Gogh

And

"Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory."
~William Barclay

There you go, that's the lot.

a world that sends you reeling from decimated dreams

This...is Angel Oaks.



Fapple's an interesting little store. I'm sure they have PG furniture as well, but I discovered them because I was on an idle search for femdom pieces. For...reasons.

They cover a surprising amount of sub-genres--maledom, femdom, petplay, very tasteful BDSM devices of all kinds...if nothing else, it's an intriguing walk through a set of interconnected hallway showrooms.



But Angel Oaks is something else. It's an all-in one--enclosed skybox, fully furnished playspace, environmental effects (there's a waterwheel), and everything is set in this gloriously subdued eternal twilight that is very easy on the eyes, in person.



My Duke was amused with how enchanted I was with it, and while I did not bring it up to get him to buy it--it is fairly costish, coming in just under five thousand Lindens--he decided to buy it for me anyway, as a housewarming gift.

It's the closest thing I've found on the grid to a truly Unseelie space, since Lumindor.



While it is set within its own small grove of night trees, and rises out of a quiet, still pond, it's technically a set of three interconnected platforms--one central, one lower, and one in a small gazebo up a set of stairs.

This is one of the bat-winged lights that ring the gazebo.



I should point out that, in this shot and the one following, the ring of stones (a handy teleporter) was added, the rug was added, and the Royal Scandal lounger from Black Sun on the lower platform. I also exchanged one of the two chairs that was on the central platform with one I had in inventory. But everything else--the two cages, the throne in the gazebo and the two chairs on the main platform, the rugs under them, the small tea table, the photos and arches behind the chairs, the floating hot-air balloon chandelier and the scenery--all of it comes with the skybox.



I like it here. I could live here. Well, hells, I do live here at least part of the time. No, there's no bed, but...I don't really need it for sleeping, after all.

But yes, sometimes I do go here just to sit quietly and sip tea, and breathe in the twilight glow. It's...incredibly calming.

I'm so happy I own this little bit of the faelands. It matters.

I'd love to listen to you while you're screaming in your sleep

[15:24] Emilly Orr: So...just as a general adviso for anyone who wishes to celebrate, or light torches...open to either....I appear to be a resident of Caledon again.

And this announcement passed without notice of any kind. Typical. :D

Oh, wait, it was just lag:

[15:35] Kxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: HUgs Emilly Orr. Welcome back too Caledon.
[15:36] Rxxxxxx Oxxxxxxx: Welcome back, Lady Orr!
[15:36] sxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: Welcome back!!!
[15:37] Emilly Orr hugs [Kxxx], and thanks everyone.
[15:38] Hxxx Sxxxxxx thinks we should set off fireworks
[15:39] Emilly Orr grins

So...yeah, that's a thing. No idea when, but there will likely be a dance of some kind. At some point. Still coasting on the afterglow.

And this is so awesome. From the same producers as the TANIS broadcast. They've made the leap from cryptica in the Pacific Northwest to cryptica related to changelings and the fae. It's been so much fun to listen to.

In the meantime, I now have an office on the Isle Du Noir. It's just off the Rue de L'Eglise, close to the radio station.



The lower level isn't really ours--Baron Harlequin, the island's houngan, I think, operates it, and we're very content to let him do so. We just wanted the office upstairs as a base for the Sphinx-Templar Trading Syndicate.



The current investigations, barring the ongoing search for mystical artifacts, of course, involve pathing out the portals that open on the Isle, and determining if any of them are stable and fixed, and running down rumors of a distant land named Carcosa. That's the collection of maps and pictures tacked to the opposite wall. We'll find it, I'm sure--the fleet of airships operated by Sphinx-Templar are already on the hunt with the information as we track it down--but it is spawning some odd discoveries along the way.

I'll keep you updated.

I'm hungry, and I hope you feed me

[08:23] Ren 'Jinx' Flow (ren.float): (repost #1) All groups, regardless of the number of members, are being affected

Okay, fine, but...by what? Because that's the first message that's come through in any of my groups this morning...

Wise words from Wiseblood Wisent:

"We really need to rethink the way houses are built to minimize the cost of the damage done by tornadoes. If bone is stronger than concrete and very light, why don't we build houses and cars out of bones from dead people and animals? It would be considered recycling and the dead bodies would be more compact without the skeleton and take up less burial space. Also, we could use animal bones to build houses that could be more tornado proof. Our cars could be more protective. I'm surprised Volvo hasn't come up with that idea. "Soylent Green" could be my tornado-proof house and crash-proof car. I'm not joking. Someone really needs to study and explore this idea of using bone as a building material."

I think he's on to something.

So...been a significant change.



That happened on August 7th. It's been something of a whirlwind since--care, love, laughter, plans, redecorating, name changing, public displays of affection, goofy smiles, sentiment, and peace. I'm very happy he asked. I'm very happy I was able to accept.

That being said...the first "social event", I suppose, that I went to with my new title as Duchess Gearhaven (oh yes, I very much married up) was the Summer Ball at the Rose Theatre at Angel Manor, for the Bó'ài Hónglián Companion Guild House.



This place...just so impressive. Polished black marble floor so glossy I could see my face mirrored in it, huge columns reaching to the high arched ceilings overhead. Grand on a scale that was grand even for grand.

That's High Priestess and Goddess Varahi, by the way, at the base of the stairs on the right.



This angle shows a bit of the stage, with full-grown trees apparently growing from it, and the gilded chairs and small tables in front of the stage.



This is when I briefly snuck into one of the alcoves for a wide shot.



Part of the performance onstage, which is part of the training for new acolytes to the Guild house.



Another angle of the dance onstage. Very traditional, very formal, and though they were very nervous, they performed beautifully for the guests--and their Guild.

The lighting was so interesting, too. Near as I can tell, it wasn't a spotlit effect, it was just that overall, almost UV glow. Wild.



I had a surprisingly fun time. I hadn't expected much, to be honest, knowing only--I thought--two people there, but I discovered other friends, and yes, it tickled me immensely to be called Duchess. Oh, I know, it's not "real" peerage, I married up--I do comprehend that--but you know, when one is this sweepingly in love, does it truly matter?

And..I am. Genuinely. There are those beyond me who say this was on the whirlwind side, to which I say both yes and no. Yes, from the asking to the actual partnering was a bit less than 48 hours, in all seriousness, but...I have known the Duke since 2017, and he has always been in my thoughts. This felt more like...the right thing to do.

I like that.