Latest Posts by pluckedchicken - Page 8

Hmmmm this reminds me of something....... it's right there on the tip of my tongue..... oh! Here it is!

en.m.wikipedia.org

Norrmalmstorg robbery - Wikipedia

Almost 50 years apart, in completely different countries, yet the same sorta story.

(On This Day 2019) This still makes me so mad because in this situation the cops literally threw all their training out the window to act like Die Hard protagonists and it Gets. People. Killed.

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

Green ribbons of light danced across the darkened rural sky to the song of stringed instruments coming from my phone. The gentle melodies punctuated every sudden arch and smoothed each long stretch. Somewhere off in the distance, the sound of my friends spinning, running, and laughing on the dirt road and through the overgrown ditches. Even further off, the howl of coyotes gives warning to some unfortunate creature.

The song changed.

I lean back on my elbows in the truck box so I'm not craning my neck as much. I watch the sky light and darken as the green strips stretch and compress, appear and dissappear.

I found a place among the souls who offered me a rope, thankful for the day my journey came across the boat

I glance over at the friend next to me, their breath fogging from the cold night air as they try to take a picture of the sight in front of them. A picture can hold a thousand words, and will always far outlast our memories. The last time we watched the sky like this, we were laying on rocks beside a bridge, both being lulled to sleep by the song of a foolish man, enchanted by a forest spirit. I had never known rocks to be so comfortable until that night.

The song changed.

I went back to watching the sky, the ribbons of light greatly diminished from when I last looked. Now, they seemed to be painting a picture of a snowy tundra, briefly illuminated by pine trees, putting emphasis instead on the stars above the green light. I traced the constellations I knew, recalling the stories and different names I knew for each one; wishing I knew more of their names, shapes, and histories.

I know you'd break your neck just to see the stars

I chucked and rubbed the back of my sore neck. If nothing else, the song got that right. The two friends seemed to tire of their galavanting and ran back over to join us at the truck again, watching the stars and northern lights. The ribbons seemed to take that as their cue to take center stage, once again filling the night sky. The lines between each fold and spike grew and shrank, boldened and blurred. We watched the spectacle in awe, music having returned to the familiar, calming strings.

A flash of orange, red, and yellow streaked through the performance, there and gone in an instant. For a moment, all that could be heard was the stringed instruments. My friends began exclaiming their shock, estonishment, and excitement, one regretfully saying they didn't make a wish. I sat there, stunned, replaying the sudden flash of light - a meteor, we agreed - desperately trying to commit it to memory. I didn't want to forget it or that night. The friend next to me suggested I make a note of it on my phone, so I did.

The night drew on, and songs continued to change. Eventually, we moved the truck around so we could watch from inside the cab, as most of us did not dress warmly enough. The friend and I talked about the last time we stargazed like that and of bringing blankets next time. We talked about the people we liked and of people we wished to love.

After what might have been hours, the show did end, and the four of us left our little spot in the country so we could all sleep before work the next day.

(the original note from that night: Fucking commet while watching Northern lights with buds)

Songs referenced are (in order): Journey to Wherever We May Go by Grand Commander, The Willow Maid by Eurtan, Archer by Novo Amor. The referenced string music is from Astronomy, Vol. 1 by Sleeping at Last.

Pictures by @/alyssamoggy on Instagram

Hmmmmm maybe I'll open it tomorrow..... maybe.... goblins do be goblin

Oh if only there were a way to tell a story without first having to find a proper way and words with which to tell said story

Oh if only there were a way to tell a story without first having to find a proper way and words with which to tell said story

Love and Nature (Pt. 2)

The forest nymphs were the first to find her. The rising sun painting her skin a brilliant, deep gold underneath the vibrant greens of the stems and leaves, and delicate white of fresh blooms sparsely covering her form. The god's chest rose and fell slowly as she laid sprawled across the forest floor, as if asleep. The nymphs, simply relieved that the poor god was no longer weeping, left her to sleep. Osdea was not asleep. How could she sleep with the ceaseless, creeping pain inside her chest? As the nymphs left, tears escaped and trickled down their familiar path over her skin and in between the new flowers. The nymphs returned at sundown, and still Osdea appeared to be sleeping. The white flowers from before now more thoroughly covering her, and new flowers blooming at the edges of her face, there was very little of the god that was left untouched now. Small pin-pricks of blood scattered across her body where the flowers weaved their way through her skin. Still, the nymphs left Osdea to her slumber. Still, Osdea was not asleep. She was paralyzed, as if the flowers had taken root in her muscles, rendering them completely useless. If nothing else, the whites and greens of the flowers and their stems, set against the dimming light of the falling sun brought some small glimmer of happiness to the sorrowful god. 'Perhaps,' thought the god 'this is the true nature of life; holding onto the smallest glimmer of hope and joy, no matter the cost.' Tears welled along her eyes once again, now hidden beneath a thin layer of foliage.

The clouds, like swirls of cream circling through the tea, glowed gold as the late fall sun set, adding a sense of finality to the warmer, greener months. Orange, red, and yellow had long replaced the greens of the leaves as the days drew shorter and colder. Only a sparse few held their summer colours, like a final fleeting hope of better times.

I could let my characters just be happy, or I could keep putting them through devastating circumstances meant to absolutely break them and see if they make it out the other side, and one of those options sounds like a lot more fun

Love and Nature (Pt 1)

Osdea, the god of love, fell hopelessly in love with the god of nature, Ezella. Osdea tried everything she could to have the indifferent god acknowledge her, but Ezella never gave her the time of day. Osdea tried helping the flora and fauna, hoping to appeal to the god of nature through kindness. She tried befriending the different nature spirits, attempting to learn anything about Ezella. She tried just being in the same area as Ezella often, so maybe they'd take an interest in her, like she had in them.

Finally, when Osdea had given up hope in everything else, she brought Ezella a small bouquet of flowers, ones she had seen them care for, and tried talking to them. Ezella curtly turned Osdea down, but Osdea saw this as progress, for she had finally gotten Ezella to acknowledge her! And so Osdea brought another bouquet of flowers the next day, with the same result. She kept bringing flowers every day until finally Ezella grew tired of the frequent irritations and said "Every day you cut and bring me flowers that I have grown. Every day I turn you down, but that still does not seem to dissuade you. Your young naivety seems to know no bounds, so let me put this as plainly as possible. For as long as you continue bothering me and cutting the flowers I have grown and calling it a gift, I will never return your affections."

Osdea, stunned, watched as the god of nature turned and walked away, her eyes never lingering from their back, not even when her face grew warm or when the world in front of her clouded too an unrecognizable blur of colours. Only when Ezella was long out of sight was Osdea able to move, collapsing to her knees, crushing the flowers. She didn't even remember dropping them. Hastily, she tried straightening the broken stems and rightening the misplaced petals, but the tears and her shaking hands only worsened the damage until her lap was covered in flower petals and leaves. She held the broken and baren flower stems to her chest, head in her lap and arms wrapped around her trembling body.

Gradually, slowly, her tears sprouted new flowers, wrapping first around the edges of her feet, then her dress and legs, her torso, her arms, her neck, her hair, her head. Oh so gradually, the suffocating pain in her chest took on a new shape; a shape that made more sense. Oh so slowly, her tears did dry, and the flowers clinging to her form began to bloom.

I got my powers when I was 26, which is pretty average. These powers don't materialize until your brain is as developed as it going to get (which thank God for that. Imagine what it would be like with a bunch of kids running around with super powers!) Some people get dreams that inform them about their powers in some way, some people just know how to use their powers without any instructions. Other people, the ones I feel sorry for, get no instructions nor mysterious knowledge, and have to go with more of a Fuck Around and Find Out method, which doesn't always work.

Because of when the powers choose to materialize themselves, many people choose to hold off on picking their career until their powers materialize. I, however, did not.

My thinking was that these powers were supposed to match who you are or your personality or something along those lines. If that's the case, my powers should fit with my career of choice, no matter what it is. In a way, I suppose it does. Though sometimes, I still wonder if I should have gone into something in humanities.

I had just finished medical school and was on track to become a neurologist. I received my powers, introduced through a liquored up dream after a night of celebrating with my friends. In the dream, I was tied to a set of train tracks, alone, with a lone train car at the end, ready to run me over with the flip of a switch. Then, I was one of five people tied to a set of train tracks, with a line train car ready to run us all over, or run only one person over at the flip of a switch. Then, I was the one at the switch, trying to decide whether to kill the one, or kill the five after being in their places. I couldn't decide. I woke up in a cold sweat with the chilling words "is one life worth the cost of many? You cannot stop this train car" echoing in my head.

After that, I quickly changed my special interest from a neurologist to an emergency medical specialist, with many questions from those around me that I couldn't answer. I went through residency without incident.

I've now been a doctor for 6 years in EMS, still without incident. Every single person I've helped has lived, even those that maybe shouldn't have. Some of my coworkers seem to think I'm some sort of medical god, breathing life back into the dead and dying. Others just assume it's because of my powers, not that anyone knows what it is.

The only problem is, it's not because of my powers that everyone lives. I still haven't activated my powers. My powers won't be activated until I let one person die. I have no idea why everyone lives, and I wish there was just one person who wouldn't. Then I would at least be able to proceed with confidence that everyone will live, rather than this haunting uncertainty of when that one will show up. I've considered pulling the plug on a comatose patient who doesn't show signs of waking up. I've considered being just a little too hasty with a patient on the brink of death. But just like in the dream, I was never able to knowingly sacrifice someone.

Out of all the superpowers out there, you consider yours the most sadistic; you can save any number of innocent people from death in the face of danger, but to gain that ability, you must kill an innocent person. Named after the infamous moral thought experiment, you are… Trolley Man.

Osdea, the tender hearted goddess of love, and Ezella, the impartial goddess of nature, were never fated for each other. At least not happily.

Since Osdea first opened her eyes, she had fallen in love with everything around her; The delicate roses, contradicted with their sharp thorns, the forests and meadows with their unique flora and fauna, the seasons, bringing and taking life from the world, and the ever changing state of every living thing.

Ezella, on the other hand, had never been specifically partial to anything she had created. From the foxes, the axolotls, birds, and scorpions to the fir trees, corals, flowers and cacti, every single thing simply was. She neither loved nor hated any of them, and cared both equally and not at all for each of them.

In a world where gods are very casually involved in most aspects of life, but there are also very powerful magic users who can easily mimic the powers of a God, the only difference between a God and a mortal would be whether they can die, right?

So, theoretically, if God's could be born to mortals without ant direct provable divine intervention (like jesus), it's very possible for this God to grow up believing they're a mortal, possibly even being atheist. So when this God is proven to be immortal (rip their loved ones) they simply believe they are immortal. It's just a coincidence that theyre very gifted in this one field, even to the point of being the best in existence.

Every living creature's soul can best be represented by a candle, sometimes burning so strong and bright you think it'll never go out, and other times a flame so small you think it'll go out with the slightest movement of air. When that flame goes out, the soul leaves the body like smoke. Although it is possible to revive the flame once it's gone out, it must be done quickly, and even the most skilled clerics and necromancers struggle with it. Once the flame is out with no chance of coming back, the soul becomes one with the magical energy of the world, making areas where many creatures have died incredibly dense with magic.

The Gods and Their Legends: Fate

Fate is an ancient god, older than time and space. It is said that Fate was created by mortals to bring order to a chaotic world. Fate lives, slumbering far out of the reaches of any mortal, creating everything that has and will ever be. Everything fated to come into existence is helpless to Fate and the path they have drawn out, including each of the gods and their creations.

Or that's what legend says anyways.

Here's the pantheon of gods I'll be making content about! This list will expand in the future but here's the first gods!

Fate - god of fate - Dreams everything into existence

Barth - god of impulse - older than time and space

Osdea- god of Love - ❤️

Ezella - god of Nature - 🌳

Celm - god of aquatic life - gender fluid

Miskin - god of space - one of the first gods dreamed into existence

Ias - god of time - Knows everything that has and will happen

Embris - god of arts - had no hand in Lugnist's birth

Lugnist - god of invention - raised as a mortal

All of the gods are nowhere near gender binary, some just lean towards ends of the binary more than others

People like fantasy gods right???? What if they're gay??? Do people like gay gods?????? Guess I'll find out ¯\_(ツ)_/¯