laughing bc i distinctly remember this one myth where apollo fell in love with this one girl but she didnt return his affections and turned into a tree instead 😂 (teashoesandhair maybe correct me if i’m wrong?)
You are so right!! That would be Daphne - a nymph who Apollo saw and he was all “damn, I’m going to climb you like a tree” and Daphne was like “what a great idea, I’m going to make like a tree and leave” and she asked her dad Peneus to turn her into a laurel tree, because she just wasn’t ready to settle down and put down roots with Apollo and she wanted to branch out
I’m in awe of how many awful puns you fit in to that reply.
Excuse me they were all absolutely incredible puns so if you’re looking for bad puns here then you’re barking up the wrong tree
Oh my god THAT’s why she’s willing to sacrifice her crew, because she’s tried any variation of telling them, of asking their help, and there’s always somehow a weak link, they’re not good at secrets, at acting. They don’t even come away from the Citadel, or her crew is suddenly replaced by Joe, or she’s taken off the War Rig, or– In desperation she tries not telling them one time, and it’s gut-wrenching, but then she gets much further, and now she has to get them killed over and over again, punch Ace off of her running board like he’s one of the Wretched over and over again–
She only ever reaches the other Vuvalini once, on their final run, which is why it was so crushing when she found out that there were only a few left, and that her home was gone. The run through we saw was the furthest she ever got, after hundreds of times watching her crew and the sisters die in different ways. Maybe she even killed Max many times before, or left him to die in the desert.
STOP THAAAAAT
*claws at face*
And he never once told her his name.
and the thing is, furiosa doesn’t think it’ll be the last run. she got unlucky with three war parties trailing her, she wasn’t able to kill the war boy which means he’ll show back up with a gun or a knife eventually, the fool shot angharad and now she’s fallen, gone under the wheels. she’ll keep playing along because giving up isn’t an option but she’s really just biding her time, waiting for the night to dissolve back into the walls of the citadel or a lucky bullet to land true and blot it all out.
it’s not until the sun rises and the fool come up swinging that she realizes she’s still driving. she’s still in the rig, in the light of a brand new day, and for the first time in countless days home is on the horizon
But that means that everything after that is final. No fifty different ways to find a path where Valkyrie lives. No alternate solutions to losing all but two of her people. What happens now is what happens. And she should be glad for that…
The
painting of old Nate had started out as a joke, but after he’d finished it,
Hardison found he couldn’t just stop there. He needed to have the whole set. So
he painted them all; stunning Sophie, powerful Parker, enigmatic Eliot, even
Hardison himself. Old Nate was blown up, but the other four portraits are still
kept safely in one of Hardison’s safehouses.
Sophie’s
portrait is the busiest, but your gaze is drawn immediately to her dark, smoldering
eyes. She holds your gaze there despite the many paintings that hang in the
background behind her, despite the expensive vases on delicate antique tables.
It takes more willpower than you can explain to avert your gaze and take in the
rest of the painting. She’s seated on a dark-red settee, twisted slightly to
show off the curve of her body, her hands on her knees. At first, you think the
glittering golden fabric covering her is a dress, but you notice her legs end
in a fish’s tail, and you realize they’re scales. The portrait is titled “Siren
Sophie”.
Parker’s
portrait is much starker, almost empty compared to Sophie’s. In a silver
rectangular frame, it’s background is completely black. Cutting through the
darkness are bright white lasers, spreading out from the centre in a web-like
pattern. At several places, a small origami fly is trapped in the web. Upon
looking closer, you see they’re folded from 100 dollar bills. In the
dead-centre of the painting is Parker, hanging comfortably from her rig. Her
legs are bent underneath her, one hand on a thigh, the other wrapped around the
dark chord above her to keep herself steady. She’s looking out at you with a
half-grin on her face, like you’re just another 100-dollar fly she’s about to
ensnare. A circular sign at the top of the frame reads “Spiderwoman”.
Eliot is
the only one of the group who is not centered in his own portrait. Instead he
stands to one side in his usual hitter-pose: arms crossed, feet firmly
anchored, an unimpressed scowl on his face. What isn’t usual is his clothing:
he’s wearing a long, dark golden cloak. A matching circlet is in his long,
loose-flowing hair. He’s standing in the middle of a yellow desert, impossibly
blue sky above him. In the centre of the painting is a huge pyramid, with two
more in the background. The title is carved into the simple dark wood frame: “Sphinx
Eliot”. You wonder idly what kind of riddle he would pose.
As weird as
the first four paintings were, Hardison’s is the most unexpected. You’ve come
to expect overconfidence from the boisterous geek. Maybe “Hero
Hardison” surrounded by his favorite tech gadgets. You’re unprepared for
the honesty you find in the hacker’s self-portrait. The painting looks like
you’ve just thrown open the door to go outside. On the doorstep is a young,
curly-haired boy that you hardly recognize as Hardison. The boy, dressed in a
suit and bow tie, stares up at you with wide eyes. In one hand he holds a worn
little suitcase. In the other is a slip of paper that reads: “Please take
care of this boy”. The title is written on a similar, slip of paper pinned
to the top of the simple frame: “Alec Paddington”.
“I want to speak to a manager,” the middle-aged woman said in her stern I-used-to-be-a-soccer-mom-ten-years-ago voice, looking down at me over the top of her Gucci reading glasses.
A wicked grin split across my face and the gates of Hell opened up behind me, releasing a gust of hot wind that whipped my apron around my body and forced the woman to shield her face. Demons came forth, dancing around in flames with songs of, “She wants to speak to a manager. Did you hear that? She wants to speak to a manager!” before erupting into earsplitting shrieks of laughter, none louder than my own cackling.
I took in the woman’s look of utter horror before my eyes rolled back into my head and I growled,
Today at therapy was really hard. I was sitting here crying, and generally being miserable, when I felt a nudge at my knee. I looked down to see that Zeus, my service dog, was doing his job… and brought me a potato.
it is very hard to cry with a gift of potato.
Remember this? I’m having a rough time right now. Zeus has a solution.
That would be an empty pill bottle, the *correct* pill bottle, a bottle of embossing powder, and two, TWO potatoes.
You’re worth at least 2 potato to him and that’s pretty special imo.
I would just like to remind you all that *I don’t own any potatoes* and I have no clue where he’s getting them from.
[Woman: *kisses raven’s beak* Even though you are naughty, I still love you, aye.]
#goals
Stop everyone! These are the Knaresborough Castle ravens, and this ‘naughty’ raven is probably Izzie: the only bird in the UK to have been given an ASBO (a criminal conviction for anti-social behaviour).
Izzie pretends to get her head stuck in trash, so that when people get up to help her she can fly off and steal their sandwiches. She can mimic human speech, but does not do it often and when she does speak it’s usually rude. When we met the lady in chain mail in July 2013, she told us that Izzie had once flown up to a tourist and said “who the **** are you looking at?!”. The tourist was very offended and assumed it was the chain mail lady who had spoken. The birds are not on chains for their own protection, but for their bad behaviour. They are literally on the naughty step.
I went to Knaresborough on a day the ravens weren’t there, and I was disappointed. I asked the castle attendant when they would be back, and he said he didn’t know. The Raven Lady isn’t associated with the castle. She’s just someone with pet ravens who comes and goes when she pleases and likes to wear chain mail. Life goals or wife goals?
Thank you for adding this, I was going to reblog it again with some info tonight and you beat me to it! Yes this one was Isobella! She also steals cameras from people, she pretends to have her foot stuck in an old water bottle and then goes and nicks stuff from the people who try to help her omfg
You know an animal must be smart when it uses its vast intellect to become a con artist.
Random Headcanon: The reason the Wizarding World in Harry Potter uses such arse-backwards technology isn’t cultural elitism. (Well, not entirely.) Rather, it’s because if you enchant anything more complicated than a screwdriver, it tends to become sentient over time. Devices that use electricity are particularly bad for this, and almost always “wake up” eventually. Arthur Weasley’s car going rogue and running off to live in a forest is actually a fairly favourable outcome; the students still tell horror stories about what happened to the guy who smuggled in (and subsequently enchanted) a digital wristwatch.
this is the best answer to this plot hole i’ve ever heard
