They Should Make A Skin Picking That’s Good For You

@my-soul-stays-silent for your bits and pieces :]

— Nikita Gill

Fingal's Cave is a geological formation located on the uninhabited island of Staffa, in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland.

It is known for its extraordinary structure of hexagonal basalt columns, which were formed from rapidly cooled volcanic lava millions of years ago. The cave is approximately 72 meters long and is notable for its natural acoustics, giving it a cathedral-like quality.

Emily Dickinson, from her poem titled "Part Two: Nature (LXXXVII)," featured in The Emergency Poet

Did you ever write more to the "vader finds out that leia I'd his daughter" story?

No but it’s been percolating in my head for a while so let’s go

(continuing from this)

The first thing Vader does is cover his tracks. Wipes the security cameras for the whole cell block, wipes the prisoner logs, makes sure that no trace of Leia’s capture or escape will be in the files synced daily with Imperial Center. Puts in transfer orders for that nervous junior officer to somewhere very far away and very quiet. Saves only one short vid clip, to the secret hard drive hidden in his own respirator.

I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.

While he’s doing this, his children (children! plural!) are getting themselves into trouble, and out again. Apparently the trash compactor was involved. He will have more footage to scrub. Somehow they’ve acquired a Wookie.

Kenobi is with them.

Vader should have foreseen this. Of course, Kenobi.

His presence saturates the Force, nearly drowning out Luke— and Leia, too, now that Vader knows to look. It’s enough to break Vader free from the chill of shock, his rightful fury seen as through a window right up until it shatters, and engulfs him again.

But he forces it back. He wants answers, before he kills Kenobi.

(I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.)

He hasn’t played the clip again, but it echoes in his ears nonetheless.

When he faces Kenobi, Vader is still off-balance. Kenobi seems as calm, as unruffled as he ever did, though he’s far too obvious in buying time for Leia and Luke to attempt an escape.

Vader asks him: “Do they know?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Kenobi says, light and unconvincing.

“You kept them from me,” Vader says, and that is a thought that feeds the Dark, that lets him hammer at Kenobi’s saber until he’s nearly past his guard—

“I kept them from your master,” Kenobi says, his voice still even and pleasant and false, hardly betraying his exertion.

“I’ll kill you for this,” Vader vows.

“I expect so,” says Kenobi. “I swore I’d die before I let Palpatine harm another child in my care. If dying will keep them from him, it’s well worth the cost.”

(I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.)

By the end of this speech Kenobi recovers a little of his old skill, turning Vader’s blows aside instead of merely bearing up under their weight. Too soon, Vader falters, losing the momentum of rage. They both fall back to defensive positions. Any living troopers have long since cleared the area; the whole deck is a ruin of saber gouges and shattered armor.

Vader rarely speaks without thinking. The nature of his breathing apparatus makes this a necessity, more often than not. But the words escape him anyway.

“Who named them?”

And now Kenobi is the one who falters. It is satisfying, if short-lived. “Their mother,” he says. “With her last breaths.”

A long time ago — a lifetime away — there was a list of names. Two lists, really, to start with, and then another of the names held in common to both. No record of it survives, not even on the hard drive hidden next to Vader’s heart.

On Naboo, children are often named for virtues. A child might be called Aluuk, for kindness, or Alié, for wisdom.

On Tatooine, a child’s name is the parent’s hope for its future. Perhaps Lukka would grow to be free; perhaps Leyah would grow to be fierce.

And perhaps they have. Vader does not know. Kenobi took that from him.

Vader won’t kill him yet, though. He still has questions.

Sometimes, I really love working with archaeologists

What's up guys I've gotta move my random pile of Pots And Tubs into the shed today because I just caught one of my chickens EATING A FUCKING STYROFOAM BOX.

How long has this been going on?? That's not food girlie! You're gonna make yourself so sick! STYROFOAM??

Ornate Hawk Eagle (Spizaetus ornatus), family Accipitridae, order Accipitriformes, found in Central and South America

photograph by Mary Therit

The Wild Robot really captures the messages of previous Chris Sanders' filmography (Lilo and Stitch, How to Train Your Dragon and Croods to an extent): the relationship that man has with nature, redemption, finding yourself outside what you are ¨expected¨ to be, but mainly about staying true to oneself and choose to be remain kind even when you have a harsh world going against you

happy birthday zane!!

If you think for one moment that I’m gonna believe that Season One Starscream is the exact same character as Season Two Starscream, you are sorely mistaken.