The ordinary glycolic acid bikini line

[Spoilers Published] About that event below Storm's End.

2023.03.31 17:47 dblack246 [Spoilers Published] About that event below Storm's End.

[Spoilers Published] About that event below Storm's End.

"The seeing, the true seeing, that is the heart of it." -Syrio Forel Arya V, AGOT.

If only it were this easy to see through a glamor.
In book one, George is kind enough to give a guide to how to read the story by way of Syrio Forel. Syrio tells us there will be deceptions ahead and we have to see through these deceptions.
"The cat was an ordinary cat, no more. The others expected a fabulous beast, so that is what they saw. How large it was, they said. It was no larger than any other cat, only fat from indolence, for the Sealord fed it from his own table. What curious small ears, they said. Its ears had been chewed away in kitten fights. And it was plainly a tomcat, yet the Sealord said 'her,' and that is what the others saw. Are you hearing?"
Arya thought about it. "You saw what was there."
"Just so." Id.
If you've read some of my musing here and wondered why I think Quentyn wasn't burned by a dragon; Robb didn't name Jon heir, or Mance did not go to Winterfell to save Arya, it is because I am trying to spot whether George has taken an ordinary cat and convinced readers it is a fabulous beast. I think George has invited most readers to conclude they saw a fabulous beast below Storm's End in Davos II. I think instead of witnessing the birth of a shadow baby, we saw a well-executed, carefully crafted and expertly timed glamor. I am going to attempt to lay out why the event below Storm's End was a glamor.
If you haven't already skipped to the comments to tell me this is unhinged tinfoil, thank you for that. It is always nice when people consider the argument before responding. I fully expect some passionate pushback on this one. As we were told in "They Live", people can be somewhat resistant to a new perspective. I do not mind if you disagree. Theories do not improve in echo chambers. I only ask that you consider the offerings and that your disagreement be polite and constructive.
So, a quick recap for those who have not poured over Davos II, ACOK in a while. Following the death of Renly in Catelyn IV, ACOK, (and we will get to that because that is really important) Stannis is camped outside of Storm's End demanding the castle and Edric Storm. Ser Courtnay Penrose refuses.
Ser Cortnay did not seem surprised. "Is it the justice of your cause you doubt, my lord, or the strength of your arm? Are you afraid I'll piss on your burning sword and put it out?"
"Do you take me for an utter fool, ser?" asked Stannis. "I have twenty thousand men. You are besieged by land and sea. Why would I choose single combat when my eventual victory is certain?" The king pointed a finger at him. "I give you fair warning. If you force me to take my castle by storm, you may expect no mercy. I will hang you for traitors, every one of you."
"As the gods will it. Bring on your storm, my lord—and recall, if you do, the name of this castle." Ser Cortnay gave a pull on his reins and rode back toward the gate.
Stannis then speaks with Davos about the matter with Melisandre present. Melisandre sees that Stannis trusts Davos.
Davos had come too far with Stannis to play coy now. "Last year they were Robert's men. A moon ago they were Renly's. This morning they are yours. Whose will they be on the morrow?"
And Stannis laughed. A sudden gust, rough and full of scorn. "I told you, Melisandre," he said to the red woman, "my Onion Knight tells me the truth."
"I see you know him well, Your Grace," the red woman said.
Stannis tells Davos of Melisandre's vision as well as the need to take the Castle.
Davos Seaworth felt the small hairs rising on the back of his neck. "My lord, I do not understand you."
"I do not require your understanding. Only your service. Ser Cortnay will be dead within the day. Melisandre has seen it in the flames of the future. His death and the manner of it. He will not die in knightly combat, needless to say." Stannis held out his cup, and Devan filled it again from the flagon. "Her flames do not lie. She saw Renly's doom as well. On Dragonstone she saw it, and told Selyse. Lord Velaryon and your friend Salladhor Saan would have had me sail against Joffrey, but Melisandre told me that if I went to Storm's End, I would win the best part of my brother's power, and she was right."
Davos offers some protest, but he does not refuse his king.
"I must have the boy, Davos. Must. Melisandre has seen that in the flames as well."
Davos groped for some other answer. "Storm's End holds no knight who can match Ser Guyard or Lord Caron, or any of a hundred others sworn to your service. This single combat . . . could it be that Ser Cortnay seeks for a way to yield with honor? Even if it means his own life?"
A troubled look crossed the king's face like a passing cloud. "More like he plans some treachery. There will be no combat of champions. Ser Cortnay was dead before he ever threw that glove. The flames do not lie, Davos."
Yet they require me to make them true, he thought. It had been a long time since Davos Seaworth felt so sad.
Keep in mind that Davos is required here. Put a pin in that for now we'll get back to that. Shortly thereafter, Davos sails then rows Melisandre beneath the walls of Storm's End. While they row there, they speak of other deaths Davos has connected to Melisandre.
"Yet you mean to kill a man tonight," he said. "As you killed Maester Cressen."
"Your maester poisoned himself. He meant to poison me, but I was protected by a greater power and he was not."
"And Renly Baratheon? Who was it who killed him?"
Her head turned. Beneath the shadow of the cowl, her eyes burned like pale red candle flames. "Not I."
"Liar." Davos was certain now.
Melisandre laughed again. "You are lost in darkness and confusion, Ser Davos."
So Davos has some interesting thoughts here. He thinks Melisandre came here to kill Penrose though she did not say this. He believes she killed Cressen and Renly though she denies it. Davos without any real evidence other than proximity, blames Melisandre for events. This is not an uncommon mistake. Story characters do this all the time and people reading the story do the same. This is human nature.
Mel claims she needs to be inside the walls of Storm's End.
Together they tied off the sail as the boat rocked beneath them. As Davos unshipped the oars and slid them into the choppy black water, he said, "Who rowed you to Renly?"
"There was no need," she said. "He was unprotected. But here . . . this Storm's End is an old place. There are spells woven into the stones. Dark walls that no shadow can pass—ancient, forgotten, yet still in place."
When they arrive beneath Storm's End...
"Have we passed within the walls?"
"Yes. Beneath. But we can go no farther. The portcullis goes all the way to the bottom. And the bars are too closely spaced for even a child to squeeze through."
There was no answer but a soft rustling. And then a light bloomed amidst the darkness.
Davos raised a hand to shield his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. Melisandre had thrown back her cowl and shrugged out of the smothering robe. Beneath, she was naked, and huge with child. Swollen breasts hung heavy against her chest, and her belly bulged as if near to bursting. "Gods preserve us," he whispered, and heard her answering laugh, deep and throaty. Her eyes were hot coals, and the sweat that dappled her skin seemed to glow with a light of its own. Melisandre shone.
Panting, she squatted and spread her legs. Blood ran down her thighs, black as ink. Her cry might have been agony or ecstasy or both. And Davos saw the crown of the child's head push its way out of her. Two arms wriggled free, grasping, black fingers coiling around Melisandre's straining thighs, pushing, until the whole of the shadow slid out into the world and rose taller than Davos, tall as the tunnel, towering above the boat. He had only an instant to look at it before it was gone, twisting between the bars of the portcullis and racing across the surface of the water, but that instant was long enough.
He knew that shadow. As he knew the man who'd cast it.
And shortly after this event we learn Penrose died.
"Why no, I trust you implicitly." A bitter laugh echoed off the shuttered windows. "I trust you like one of my own blood, in truth. Now tell me how Cortnay Penrose died."
"It is said that he threw himself from a tower."
So there are several possible theories about how Penrose died. The first theory--and by far the most popular-- is that the shadow Davos saw threw Penrose over the walls. And yes, that is a theory because we do not see the shadow do anything and therefore we can't point to text to clearly state this shadow is real. A second theory--one I have not even seen Preston Jacobs offer--is the shadow Davos saw was nothing more than a glamor and Penrose was killed by some other act. I believe the second theory is the more likely of the two to be true. And I will offer why herein.

Why I think it was a glamor

So after seeing a shadow kill Renly in the Catelyn POV, and seeing Melisandre give birth to a shadow that entered Storm's End, and learning that Penrose was thrown over the walls I am going to argue that what Davos saw was a glamor?
Yes, I am.
Glamors are a major story plot point as are the varying levels of success characters have with spotting glamors. Characters and readers are given several clues on how to spot glamors and I think if we apply those lessons to what we see below Storm's End, we can make a strong argument that this was a glamor.
I am not here to convince you I got this right. The only purpose of this post is to share my thoughts and perhaps get a few of you to consider whether the fantastic beast the author offered you was actually something less spectacular. If after reading and considering, you are convinced the shadow beneath Storm's End was real, that is fine. You might even be right. It is just a theory I have that I offer for your consideration.

Melisandre and glamors

So any argument that the Storm's End event could be a glamor must start with a good understanding of what glamors are, how they operate and their limitations. After trying to define the elements of a glamor as presented to us in the text, I will see if that is consistent with what Davos sees below Storm's End.
As Syrio explained to Arya (and to us readers), a glamor gives the appearance of something present that is not really there. People with sharp eyes can see through glamors. This position is repeated to Arya (and the readers) by the Kindly Man.
"Mummers change their faces with artifice," the kindly man was saying, "and sorcerers use glamors, weaving light and shadow and desire to make illusions that trick the eye. These arts you shall learn, but what we do here goes deeper. Wise men can see through artifice, and glamors dissolve before sharp eyes" The Ugly Little Girl, ADWD.
Melisandre also acknowledges that glamors are a trick of the visual and they are not foolproof.
"The spell is made of shadow and suggestion. Men see what they expect to see. The bones are part of that." Was I wrong to spare this one? "If the glamor fails, they will kill you." Melisandre, ADWD.
Her line about men seeing what they expect to see is important. This does not just apply to story characters. I think it can be applied to readers as well. We will get back to this.
You'll recall before she showed the crowd at Dragonstone a glamored sword, she told them they would see a sword of fire.
Melisandre was robed all in scarlet satin and blood velvet, her eyes as red as the great ruby that glistened at her throat as if it too were afire. "In ancient books of Asshai it is written that there will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him." She lifted her voice, so it carried out over the gathered host. "Azor Ahai, beloved of R'hllor! The Warrior of Light, the Son of Fire! Come forth, your sword awaits you! Come forth and take it into your hand!" [...]
"A sword of fire!" shouted Queen Selyse. Ser Axell Florent and the other queen's men took up the cry. "A sword of fire! It burns! It burns! A sword of fire!"
Melisandre lifted her hands above her head. "Behold! A sign was promised, and now a sign is seen! Behold Lightbringer! Azor Ahai has come again! All hail the Warrior of Light! All hail the Son of Fire!" Davos I, ACOK.

So we know when dealing with Melisandre, we should always question whether a glamor is in play because it is one of the tools in her bag and she is very good at using them to get what she wants. With that in mind, let's discuss the limitations of glamors.
We know glamors can dissolve before sharp eyes as Arya who was trained by Syrio to see through glamors demonstrates.
"Let us see." The priest lowered his cowl. Beneath he had no face; only a yellowed skull with a few scraps of skin still clinging to the cheeks, and a white worm wriggling from one empty eye socket. "Kiss me, child," he croaked, in a voice as dry and husky as a death rattle.
Does he think to scare me? Arya kissed him where his nose should be and plucked the grave worm from his eye to eat it, but it melted like a shadow in her hand.
The yellow skull was melting too, and the kindliest old man that she had ever seen was smiling down at her. "No one has ever tried to eat my worm before," he said. "Are you hungry, child?" Arya I, AFFC.
Also important to note is that because glamors only impact the visual sense, when other senses come to bear, you start to question what you see.
Davos knelt, and Stannis drew his longsword. Lightbringer, Melisandre had named it; the red sword of heroes, drawn from the fires where the seven gods were consumed. The room seemed to grow brighter as the blade slid from its scabbard. The steel had a glow to it; now orange, now yellow, now red. The air shimmered around it, and no jewel had ever sparkled so brilliantly. But when Stannis touched it to Davos's shoulder, it felt no different than any other longsword. "Ser Davos of House Seaworth," the king said, "are you my true and honest liege man, now and forever?" Davos IV, ASOS.
Those who do not rely on the visual aren't so easily fooled.
The king frowned. "Everyone else has seen the thing, why not a blind man?" His swordbelt and scabbard hung from a peg near the hearth. He took the belt down and drew the longsword out. Steel scraped against wood and leather, and radiance filled the solar; shimmering, shifting, a dance of gold and orange and red light, all the bright colors of fire.
"Tell me, Samwell." Maester Aemon touched his arm.
"It glows," said Sam, in a hushed voice. "As if it were on fire. There are no flames, but the steel is yellow and red and orange, all flashing and glimmering, like sunshine on water, but prettier. I wish you could see it, Maester." [...]
Maester Aemon was lost in thought as Sam helped him down the narrow turnpike stair. But as they were crossing the yard, he said, "I felt no heat. Did you, Sam?"
"Heat? From the sword?" He thought back. "The air around it was shimmering, the way it does above a hot brazier."
"Yet you felt no heat, did you? And the scabbard that held this sword, it is wood and leather, yes? I heard the sound when His Grace drew out the blade. Was the leather scorched, Sam? Did the wood seem burnt or blackened?"
"No," Sam admitted. "Not that I could see." Samwell V, ASOS.
Maester Aemon is telling us that a glamor can have no impact on the physical. There will be nothing to feel, it will leave no marks on the environment. It is strictly a thing of the visual. Which is why Mel insists Mance wear those bones.
Melisandre felt the warmth in the hollow of her throat as her ruby stirred at the closeness of its slave. "You have put aside your suit of bones," she observed.
"The clacking was like to drive me mad."
"The bones protect you," she reminded him. "The black brothers do not love you. Devan tells me that only yesterday you had words with some of them over supper." Melisandre, ADWD.
And...
Every day I think how easy it would be to pry it out, and every day I don't. Must I wear the bloody bones as well?"
"The spell is made of shadow and suggestion. Men see what they expect to see. The bones are part of that." Was I wrong to spare this one? "If the glamor fails, they will kill you." Id.
The bones are important to the Rattleshirt glamor because everyone expects to hear the clacking of the bone armor. When things are different from what is expected, keen minds notice.
One time Arya woke in the dark, frightened for no reason she could name. Above, the Red Sword shared the sky with half a thousand stars. The night seemed oddly quiet to her, though she could hear Yoren's muttered snores, the crackle of the fire, even the muffled stirrings of the donkeys. Yet somehow it felt as though the world were holding its breath, and the silence made her shiver. She went back to sleep clutching Needle.
Come morning, when Praed did not awaken, Arya realized that it had been his coughing she had missed. Arya II, ACOK.
Mel wants Mance to wear the bones to keep people from looking closer. Jon almost noticed something was off with the fRattleshirt when they fought in the yard. But Jon has not been trained to see through glamors as George has tried to train we readers.
The point of all these citations is to make it clear that you can spot a glamor by looking for evidence beyond the visual. If the only proof a thing is present is that you see a thing, you might want to look closer especially if it involves a known glamor caster. George has consistently showed us via Aemon's questioning of Lightbringer and Arya's grabbing the worm, that physical impact matters. And this is also the approach he took with the Renly event.

The Renly Shadow

In my informal discussions on the subject, the response I get most often to the suggestion that the Storm's End shadow is glamor is "what killed Renly then?" This is an excellent question and one we must look at because I think the details of the Renly event really help us understand why the Storm's End event might just be a light show. Here is the relevant text from the Renly event.
"I beg you in the name of the Mother," Catelyn began when a sudden gust of wind flung open the door of the tent. She thought she glimpsed movement, but when she turned her head, it was only the king's shadow shifting against the silken walls. She heard Renly begin a jest, his shadow moving, lifting its sword, black on green, candles guttering, shivering, something was queer, wrong, and then she saw Renly's sword still in its scabbard, sheathed still, but the shadowsword . . .
"Cold," said Renly in a small puzzled voice, a heartbeat before the steel of his gorget parted like cheesecloth beneath the shadow of a blade that was not there. He had time to make a small thick gasp before the blood came gushing out of his throat. Catelyn IV, ACOK.
This was no glamor. We know this because in addition to Cat and Brienne seeing it, the shadow had a clear impact on the physical world. George writes that the shadow entered the tent with a parting of the tent door, then when it was near Renly he felt cold and finally we saw the shadow rip through a steel gorget and open Renly's throat.
We are also told Stannis has a telepathic link to the shadow that killed Renly.
For a long time the king did not speak. Then, very softly, he said, "I dream of it sometimes. Of Renly's dying. A green tent, candles, a woman screaming. And blood." Stannis looked down at his hands. "I was still abed when he died. Your Devan will tell you. He tried to wake me. Dawn was nigh and my lords were waiting, fretting. I should have been ahorse, armored. I knew Renly would attack at break of day. Devan says I thrashed and cried out, but what does it matter? It was a dream. I was in my tent when Renly died, and when I woke my hands were clean." Davos II, ACOK.
So I will say unequivocally that a real shadow assassin with the face of Stannis killed Renly. I am not arguing against that or denying that. However, this does not mean Melisandre birthed the shadow that killed Renly.
Melisandre kinda tells on herself in the next book.
"No." Perhaps he should have lied, and told her what she wanted to hear, but Davos was too accustomed to speaking truth. "You are the mother of darkness. I saw that under Storm's End, when you gave birth before my eyes."
"Is the brave Ser Onions so frightened of a passing shadow? Take heart, then. Shadows only live when given birth by light, and the king's fires burn so low I dare not draw off any more to make another son. It might well kill him." Melisandre moved closer. "With another man, though . . . a man whose flames still burn hot and high . . . if you truly wish to serve your king's cause, come to my chamber one night. I could give you pleasure such as you have never known, and with your life-fire I could make . . ."
". . . a horror." Davos retreated from her. "I want no part of you, my lady. Or your god. May the Seven protect me."
Melisandre drew of enough light to make at least one son from Stannis likely the one that killed Renly. She claims she can make more with another man, but if that is the case, why aren't there an army of them? There is no lack of men who would want to bed Melisandre either for pleasure or to serve the Red God. Why are there not more shadows? I think it is because she is not the one with the power; it's Stannis ( We will get to that part of the theory in a bit).
I know. You are like "What?! Obviously she did. She is a shadow binder from the West and we see her giving birth. We can put two and two together. We don't need to see it."
I am not suggesting any of you lack the ability to put two and two together. That would be rude and insulting and I am not fond of such discourse. I will however suggest that maybe what you think are two and two aren't two and two because even if the Renly tent shadow is a two, when you do a side-by-side with the Strom's end shadow... well that thing is too different to be a two.
The Renly tent shadow:
  • is of normal size;
  • opens a tent door;
  • brings a feeling of cold;
  • tears open steel;
  • kills on site;
  • looks like Stannis;
  • seems to have a telepathic bond with Stannis; and
  • We have no direct knowledge of where this thing came from.
The Storm's End shadow:
  • Is notably larger;
  • Slithers around gates;
  • Gives Davos no feeling of cold;
  • Isn't observed making any impact on the environment;
  • Does not kill with a stab on site;
  • Is directly summon by a glamor caster with a shock of blinding light after she reached into her robes where she tells us she keep special powders that make things appear greater than they are; and
  • has the face of Stannis.
So yes, two plus two is four. But since that Renly tent shadow is way different from the Storm's End shadow, are we sure they are both twos? If the Storm's end event ain't a two, then our conclusion of four is flawed.
But if you think the shadow below Storm's end was real, just go and apply the basic glamor test that Maester Aemon gives us and find any physical evidence that the Storm's End shadow was there beyond the half blinded visuals of Davos. Why would George when writing the Storm's End event leave out all opportunities to demonstrate a single impact on the physical when he spent text space making that an issue with Lightbringer, Mance and the Renly event? Was it an oversight or a clue?

So what killed Penrose?

Penrose was tossed over the walls of Storm's End. I am not denying that. I also will not argue that he felt despair and decided to kill himself. He seems pretty confident when he meets with Stannis.
"As the gods will it. Bring on your storm, my lord—and recall, if you do, the name of this castle." Ser Cortnay gave a pull on his reins and rode back toward the gate. Davos II, ACOK.
Ser Cortnay does not sound all that worried about the Castle being stormed or a long siege. That castle can't be breached by an army of any size. And if the granaries are full which they should be after such a long and bountiful summer, he could hold up inside for years. So what killed him in one night if not the shadow assassin Davos saw?
My theory is a mutiny by someone already inside. And why a mutiny?
"I give you fair warning. If you force me to take my castle by storm, you may expect no mercy. I will hang you for traitors, every one of you." -The Mannis.
Because it is Stannis outside the gates. And he is the man stubborn enough to sit there a decade if he needed to. And the moment the last starving man gives in, he'd take the castle and hang that last man. Everyone knows this about Stannis. Moreover, with Renly and Robert dead, Storm's End passes to him anyway. Robert gave it to Renly and Renly had no heir. Robert is dead. Stannis is the last living Baratheon so it is his by law. All it would take was one or two men inside the castle who decided they were not about to die for the whims of a castellan who wanted to withhold the castle from the rightful lord. Men generally don't want to die for no good purpose isn't that right Dagon Cod?
He is drunk, Reek realized. The ale is speaking. "Believe what you want. I have brought Lord Ramsay's message. Now I must return to him. We'll sup on wild boar and neeps, washed down with strong red wine. Those who come with me will be welcome at the feast. The rest of you will die within a day. The Lord of the Dreadfort will bring his knights up the causeway, whilst his son leads his own men down on you from the north. No quarter will be granted. The ones that die fighting will be the lucky ones. Those who live will be given to the bog devils."
"Enough," snarled Dagon Codd. "You think you can frighten ironborn with words? Begone. Run back to your master before I open your belly, pull your entrails out, and make you eat them."
He might have said more, but suddenly his eyes gaped wide. A throwing axe sprouted from the center of his forehead with a solid thunk. Codd's sword fell from his fingers. He jerked like a fish on a hook, then crashed face-first onto the table.
It was the one-armed man who'd flung the axe. As he rose to his feet he had another in his hand. "Who else wants to die?" he asked the other drinkers. "Speak up, I'll see you do." Thin red streams were spreading out across the stone from the pool of blood where Dagon Codd's head had come to rest. "Me, I mean to live, and that don't mean staying here to rot." Reek II, ADWD.
All it takes is one man who isn't willing to die and someone else can take charge and open the gates.
"Then hear me. Ser Cortnay's lieutenant is cousin to the Fossoways. Lord Meadows, a green boy of twenty. Should some ill chance strike down Penrose, command of Storm's End would pass to this stripling, and his cousins believe he would accept my terms and yield up the castle." Davos II, ACOK.
Garrison duty is usually left to green boys who lack the experience to go to war or grey beards who are long in service. The green boys do not want to die and the old men have served too long to know anything but obedience. Either could have turned on Penrose. That makes more sense than a shadow that finds Penrose in the huge castle then pushes Penrose over the walls rather than just stabbing him like the Renly shadow did. Why would the shadow throw him off the walls? There is no reason for Penrose to go up there. So the shadow would have to drag him up there. Nobody saw this or heard this? Anyway the point here is, there remains no evidence the shadow at Storm's End did anything.
If Mel can see the future as she claims, she may have seen the mutiny in her fires and simply positioned herself to take credit for something she had nothing to do with.

Why would Mel bother with such a ruse?

Since Melisandre was introduced in ACOK, only two people who Stannis respects and trusts have spoken against her. Cressen and Davos. Cressen is dead which leave Davos as the last person who could speak against her. Mel knows this.
Davos had come too far with Stannis to play coy now. "Last year they were Robert's men. A moon ago they were Renly's. This morning they are yours. Whose will they be on the morrow?"
And Stannis laughed. A sudden gust, rough and full of scorn. "I told you, Melisandre," he said to the red woman, "my Onion Knight tells me the truth."
"I see you know him well, Your Grace," the red woman said. Davos II, ACOK.
I theorize Mel wanted to get Davos alone to try and convince him or her power because if he was on her side, she would have less opposition. This could not be as simple as summoning Davos to her tent to witness the birth. For one, Davos would refuse anyone but Stannis.
The king gave a curt nod. "You will need a small boat. Not Black Betha. No one must know what you do."
Davos wanted to protest. He was a knight now, no longer a smuggler, and he had never been an assassin. Yet when he opened his mouth, the words would not come. This was Stannis, his just lord, to whom he owed all he was. And he had his sons to consider as well. Gods be good, what has she done to him? Id.
Also of note is Stannis saying no one must know. Stannis also tells Davos that Melisandre has already seen Penrose's death. She likely also told him what she needed to ensure this. She requested Davos and to be alone with him. The best way to do this was to get him involved in something only he could do. The Lightbringer show worked on the others, but Davos required something more intimate. So she got him alone and showed him a form he knows well and respects: a woman great with child. Davos has seven sons by his wife. He knows the power of the form of an expecting mother.
"Power resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less."
Davos believes in the power of seas, ships, sons and Stannis. All four of the pillars of his beliefs are exploited by Melisandre here. Speaking of exploiting the audience.

George set this up brilliantly

I think George enjoys tricking his readers. He often uses very careful and cryptic language when discussing plot elements, which is why I generally steer well clear of SSM. He does the same with his writing though. Here is how the set up for us to reach a bad conclusions works (I theorize).
George first introduces us to the idea of shadows assassins with the event in Renly's tent. We only see the shadow and the impact it has. We don't how it came to be and we are hungry for an answer. A few POV's later we are given an option for the solution. And in our understandable desire to have an answer, we take the first option without questioning it's validity. And in doing so, we do not consider other possibilities. The first offered answer might not be the correct one.

Narrative purpose

One of the things I learned from mu Quentyn discussions is when confronted with a challenge to the accustomed interpretation of the story, readers want to know what the narrative purpose of the challenge is. It is a fine and fair inquiry. I generally don't like to get into it because narrative purpose is a weathervane and each reader provides their own wind. Everyone approaches this story in a unique way and this is a wonderful thing. If we all had the same view, what would be the point of this subreddit and it's 800k members? So, I am not going to get into the subjective nature of what each of thinks is the correct narrative purpose. However, I think there are some objective elements we can discuss.
George put glamors in the story as a purposeful choice. He took the time to tell us about glamors, how to spot them, he has revealed some to us and left some for us to puzzle out on our own. George is writing a narrative full of misdirection and apparent contradictions. I think we should look out for them.
George has made Davos' guilt over his involvement in this an important plot point in the Davos POV.
She laughed. "Is it me you fear? Or what we do?"
"What you do. I'll have no part of it."
"Your hand raised the sail. Your hand holds the tiller." Davos II, ACOK.
And...
Silent, Davos tended to his course. The shore was a snarl of rocks, so he was taking them well out across the bay. He would wait for the tide to turn before coming about. Storm's End dwindled behind them, but the red woman seemed unconcerned. "Are you a good man, Davos Seaworth?" she asked.
Would a good man be doing this? "I am a man," he said. "I am kind to my wife, but I have known other women. I have tried to be a father to my sons, to help make them a place in this world. Aye, I've broken laws, but I never felt evil until tonight. I would say my parts are mixed, m'lady. Good and bad." Id.
And George touches on this guilt again in ASOS.
Perhaps it was only wind blowing against the rock, or the sound of the sea on the shore, but for an instant Davos Seaworth heard her answer. "You called the fire," she whispered, her voice as faint as the sound of waves in a seashell, sad and soft. "You burned us . . . burned us . . . burrrrned usssssss."
"It was her!" Davos cried. "Mother, don't forsake us. It was her who burned you, the red woman, Melisandre, her!" He could see her; the heart-shaped face, the red eyes, the long coppery hair, her red gowns moving like flames as she walked, a swirl of silk and satin. She had come from Asshai in the east, she had come to Dragonstone and won Selsye and her queen's men for her alien god, and then the king, Stannis Baratheon himself. He had gone so far as to put the fiery heart on his banners, the fiery heart of R'hllor, Lord of Light and God of Flame and Shadow. At Melisandre's urging, he had dragged the Seven from their sept at Dragonstone and burned them before the castle gates, and later he had burned the godswood at Storm's End as well, even the heart tree, a huge white weirwood with a solemn face. Davos I, ASOS.
I found Davos I, ASOS one of the most powerful chapters he's written. Does this section of ASOS work unless Davos is struggling with his guilt and feeling complicit in all the death that has taken place? So even if you fine redditor do not see the sense in having Davos row Melisandre under Storm's End, George wanted him there and wanted him feeling guilt and conflict over it. And George used that conflict later.
Another narrative purpose for the Storm's End event being a glamor is that is could serve as a distraction from another plot George is not ready to reveal, such as Stannis having special abilities like we see in the Starks, Targaryens, and other wargs. Mel claims there is power in king's blood. Stannis does have king's blood. And Stannis is a distant relation to the Targaryens who also have special abilities related to there genetics. Some of that ability may be within Stannis and all Melisandre did was help unlock it while he slept.
A person with latent powers they are unable to unlock consciously is something George has written about in his other works. George borrows heavily from his other works elsewhere in ASOIAF. One more thing, George's favorite science fiction film is Forbidden Planet. In this movie, one of the characters is able to summon telekinetic a manifestation of his id while he sleeps to kill his rivals. It may be that George had Stannis do exactly that.
In Conclusion
Even if you conclude the Storm's End event was not a glamor (it is fine if you do. I might be wrong), I think it is wise to at least question the event because if it was a glamor below Storm's end, then this opens a number of new possibilities for the story. I think this story is deserving of applying the lesson at Syrio Forel offered.
"Opening your eyes is all that is needing. The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. Taste with your mouth. Smell with your nose. Feel with your skin. Then comes the thinking, afterward, and in that way knowing the truth." Arya V, AGOT.
When we apply senses other than the visual to the event below Storm's End and then really think about it from the perspective of touch, sound and smell, are we still sure that our eyes alone told us the truth?
But what say ye fine Redditors? Is the event below Storm's End worthy of closer inspection? Is the choice by George to exclude any physical evidence of the shadow a clue to this being a glamor from a known glamor caster? As always, polite disagreement and constructive feedback are always welcome.
TL;DR: The commonly accepted position on the event below Storm's End in Davos II, ACOK may be incorrect. There are a number of inconsistencies between the shadow that killed Renly and the one that Davos sees below Storm's End. These inconsistencies should not be dismissed. It is highly possible that the event below Storm's End was a glamor cast by a known glamor caster.
submitted by dblack246 to asoiaf [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 17:45 gratitudeandpeas Products i use currently // Body care

Products i use currently // Body care submitted by gratitudeandpeas to IndianSkincareAddicts [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 17:42 Reasonable-Rabbit-60 Ten days in with Pityraisis Rosea and still no end in sight

I first got what I now know is a herald patch about two weeks ago on my bikini line. It was about the size of a 50p coin (or a quarter to americans) and was red and looked like eczema. I tried to get a doc appointment but the waitlist was for a month out so I gave up. Within about 5 days I started to notice bumps on my chest and shoulders -we'll call this Day 1. I went and got antihistamines and steroid cream as thought it was an allergic reaction. By day 3, I had big red bumps all over my chest and abdomen and upper back, by day 5 the number had doubled and some had spread to my upper thighs and behind my knees. Now it's day 9 and my entire body barring my face, hands, and feet are covered. Some areas (chest, abdomen) are worse than others. It's EXTREMELY itchy and also sore and painful, I have fatigue and exhaustion but also haven't been sleeping due to the itching. Appetite has mostly gone although I have been eating out of boredom as am struggling to do anything. I saw a doctor on Monday who diagnosed it as PR, and I am seeing my accunpuncturist next week and have a derm appointment at the end of April. I am a healthy, 32 y/o female, I wasn't having any health issues prior although I had just started doing a lot of hot yoga in the previous few weeks. I've never had any skin issues before and honestly am completely at my wit's end as to what to do.
Here's what I've been doing based on what people suggested here and elsewhere:
- Oatmeal baths - this definitely helps with the itching but not much else
- Head and shoulders - I think this might aggravate the itching. I've only been using for threee days but not sure if I will continue
- Sun bed - I went once and it did stop the itching for about 6 hours or so but no real difference noticed with the spots. I'm going to go again today just to see
- L-lysine - I just started taking this yesterday, will see how that goes.
- Anti-itch cream, hydrocortisone, antihistamines - have been using these since the beginning, no noticeable difference
Any and all reocmmendations greatly appreciated. It's really affecting my mental health (and obviously physical). I'll add some pics of the progression below:

Day 1
Day 4
Day 6
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
submitted by Reasonable-Rabbit-60 to PityriasisRosea [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 17:38 disco-dingus There's something wrong with the cacti in the Sonoran Desert, AZ

I’m not a good guy and I’ll never claim to be. I’ve done things I’m not proud of for a shit ton of money. But that’s not what this is about; at least not directly.
Something happened to me recently and I want to get out of this line of work for good. Unfortunately that’s easier said than done. No one gets out of this line of work without digging their own grave. That’s not a metaphor; I’ve seen it happen. But I think I’ll take my chances and run.
It was a simple enough job, one that had gone down countless times:
Drive to a secluded area of the desert, meet shady guys, swap packages, bring said package back to Jules; the big boss.
Alexi was my partner that evening. He was my kind of guy; didn’t say too much but always had your back. I drove us into the Sonoran and Alexi directed me to the exact location. I parked up and we waited.
The skies over the desert are always striking. It was a stunning swirl of purple and red that you only get to see at twilight. I admired it silently.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” said Alexi. He almost made me jump. "Look at the saguaro against those colors. Just beautiful.”
I smiled to myself as I nodded. "Agreed. That's a backdrop to die for."
“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that,” he said, taking out two 9mms from the glove box. He handed one to me and I checked the ammunition before tucking it into the waistband of my pants. We continued to watch over the desert in silence.
“It’s gonna happen someday,” I said.
“Well, yeah,” he said. “That’s life unfortunately.”
“You know what I mean. Prematurely, like an execution or…”
“Come on man!” he said. “Don’t spoil the moment.”
I laughed. “Here’s to dying of old age in Cancún.”
“Cuba for me, but I’d drink to that.”
Before long another car pulled up some hundred or so yards away, the headlights dipping. I took a deep breath and climbed out of my car, taking the holdall we’d been given from the trunk. Three guys stepped out of the other car.
“Fuck,” I said quietly. “Didn’t Jules say there’d be two guys?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Alexi, his hand in his waistband.
We stopped about 20 ft away as they lined up in a row. I looked at Alexi and gave him a quick nod before I walked to the halfway point. I put the holdall down and stepped back. The guy in the middle motioned to a guy with a briefcase, who proceeded to make the exchange. Alexi retrieved the briefcase and checked the contents, then nodded to me. The other guys looked satisfied too.
“Gentleman,” said one of the guys, then they returned to their car. I let out a breath as Alexi and I began our walk back.
“Easiest grand we’ll ever make,” said Alexi with a grin.
“It’s almost criminal how easy,” I laughed.
A loud bang pierced the air and Alexi was on the ground. I turned to see flashes in the distance as shots were fired.
“Alexi!” I shouted as I pulled out my handgun, ducking down. He rolled over groaning, pulling out his gun too.
“My leg,” he groaned. “Fuckers!”
Despite his injury he got to his feet and started firing.
“Jesus Alexi, take cover!” I yelled, running to a nearby rock. I took a few shots when I could. Alexi managed to hit one guy who I saw fall down. He came to his senses and limped to another rock for cover. I could make out the silhouettes of the two remaining guys. One of them made a beeline for Alexi and one came towards me.
I took a shot and ran for another rock, taking a moment to breathe. I heard a hissing noise from nearby. My first thought was a rattler, but it was followed by a whoosh and I felt a blow of cool air over me, like something big had quickly passed by. I turned with my gun outstretched. I could only see the outlines of the tall cacti.
A bullet hit the ground too close for comfort. I leaned over the rock and took a couple more shots, kicking myself at how off I was. I heard the guy skid on the ground as he reached my rock, taking cover on the other side.
“You’ll pay for Seymour!” he snarled.
“You took the first shot, asshole!” I yelled.
“And I’ll take the last!”
Another bullet hit nearby as I flinched. We were both taken off guard as two deep screams filled the air. One of them was definitely from Alexi. Looking over in that general direction I could see several tall, dark shapes moving across the desert.
“What the…” I said as the shapes left a cloud of dust. I heard another loud hiss on my other side and turned to see a saguaro, or at least what looked like a saguaro looming over me.
I screamed and fired directly at it, the flash revealing rows of deadly spines that retracted like wasp stingers. The cactus let out a high pitched squeal and swung an arm out, meeting my left bicep. I screamed in pain as the spines punctured my skin.
It started to suckle. The muscles in my arm pulsed as the cactus attached like the tentacles of an octopus. It was feeding from me!
I fired my remaining shots and screamed until I was out of breath. The cactus squealed as bullets penetrated its green flesh, but it didn't let me go. It appeared to breathe as it suckled. When I tried to pull away it felt like my arm was going to tear away from my shoulder!
“You fucking freak!” the guy yelled as I heard more shots. The cactus squealed as it let me go. I took the opportunity to run, starting on all fours before getting to my feet. The guy was close behind me firing into the night. The saguaro gave chase, its roots still firmly in the ground as if it was being dragged beneath the earth.
“What the fuck is it?” I shouted, clinging to my bloody arm.
“Are you blind?” he yelled. “It’s a fucking giant-assed cactus!”
I made it to another rock, this one larger than the others. I started to climb it, my arm stinging like a son-of-a-bitch! I grimaced through the pain and made it to the top some 10 ft from the ground. The guy took another shot behind him and started to climb. I reached down with my good arm.
“Give me your hand!”
It’s amazing how a scenario like that can change your stance. I genuinely wanted to help him, but that wasn’t to be. The saguaro caught up and two of its several arms closed around him. He screamed out as his arm was pulled away from me, and two more shots were fired into the ground before he dropped the gun.
“Oh God!” he screamed. “Help me!”
I could only watch in terror as his body began to convulse and shrivel. His skin rippled as if his insides were being sucked into the cactus. He made several gargled attempts at crying for help before giving up, or he simply couldn't anymore.
I ran. I jumped from the back of the rock and fucking ran. The whole time I could hear a terrifying symphony of hisses behind me. The ground vibrated under my feet as clouds of dust shot across the desert. But I made it. My chest burned like I’d run a marathon but I made it to my car, starting the engine as cacti hurled themselves into it.
As I sped away I prayed that Alexi had somehow escaped. I felt truly awful for leaving him like that, but I had no choice.

I sat in Jules’ office as my arm was bandaged up by his right-hand man, Nails. Looking at it in the light it was covered in rows of circular puncture wounds.
“Where’s the briefcase?” said Jules with a smirk.
“Boss, come on,” I pleaded. “Look at me.”
“Where. Is. The. Brief. Case?”
I shook my head. “Something’s out there, boss. In the Sonoran. Something that isn't… natural.”
“Where’s the fucking briefcase?" He cocked a gun at me as Nails squeezed my arm, patches of blood seeping through the bandages.
“It’s in the fucking desert!” I screamed.
He smiled. “Then I suggest you go get it from the fucking desert.”
I shook my head, trying to hold back tears. “Please boss. Don’t make me go back there. The cacti… They’re not right. They feed on…”
He started laughing hysterically. “Did I ever tell you why we call him Nails?”
Jules held up a pair of pointed pliers, then handed them to Nails. He grabbed my hand and stretched out one of my fingers, nipping the end of my nail with the tool.
“Okay!” I yelled, my heart thumping. “Okay, I’ll go back!”
“Good boy,” said Jules. “Nails, why don’t go with him. Hold the baby’s hand.”
Nails didn’t speak, just nodded.
“Oh. And if the briefcase isn’t there, put a bullet in this motherfucker’s head.”

We drove in silence, Nails pointing the gun at me the whole journey. He didn’t convey any emotion. In fact, thinking about it I don’t think I’d heard him mutter a single word. Ever. He had this gift of appearing super intense while looking like he couldn’t give the slightest fuck.
I pulled up in the same area I’d parked the previous evening, the sun now starting to rise. The car belonging to the other guys was still parked up in the distance with the doors open. I cautiously stepped out of my car. There were several tall cacti dotted around.
“It must be in this area somewhere,” I said. “Will you help me look?”
Nails just stared at me with the gun by his side.
“Okay… Well, I’m gonna look over here. But seriously Nails, watch your back. These things are alive.”
He continued to stare deadpan as I started searching for the briefcase, trying to find the area where Alexi had been shot. That was likely where I'd find it as he’d been holding it at the time. But there was still a chance he’d made it out of there with it. That didn’t put me in a good position though as my life currently depended on finding it.
After looking for a few minutes I found some spots of blood on the ground. I got a shiver down my spine as I was reminded of the evening’s events. As I searched I looked over my shoulder and listened out for hissing. But none of the saguaro looked particularly alive. They just looked like ordinary cacti.
My heart jumped when I saw the briefcase.
“Oh, thank God!” I yelled. It was leaning against a rock. I assumed it must have been the rock that Alexi had taken shelter behind, the last place I saw him. He was nowhere to be seen though.
I picked up the briefcase and held it to my chest, closing my eyes to appreciate the moment.
It was disturbed by laughter.
I looked around to see Nails standing in front of a saguaro, and he was laughing his head off. I had to do a double take. This man had never even smiled in my presence, let alone laughed!
With the briefcase secured I made my way towards him.
“I got it!” I yelled, holding it up.
He kept laughing as he looked up at that darn cactus. When I reached him he was doubled over! Something had tickled him. He was human after all.
“Alright Nails, what’s so funny?”
When I looked up I almost fell back in horror.
It was Alexi, or at least part of Alexi. His face was pinned to the top of the cactus.
dd
submitted by disco-dingus to DiscoBloodbath [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 17:36 meisterduu [Routine Help] Looking for some feedback on my routine/Product recommendations

I recently (3 weeks) started being more strict about my skincare routine again after a brief period of neglect due to a decline in my mental health. I am looking for some feedback on my skincare routine and any product recommendations. First thing's first, my skin is improving! I am just hoping y'all can help me ensure I am using my products in the right order and let me know if you have any other recommendations.
To give a bit of context, I have some serious dark circles. I have had bloodwork done, drink lots of water, get enough sleep (most nights), and am on allergy medication. I also do not think they're genetic as no one else in my family seems to have them, but my knowledge here is pretty limited :) Other areas of concern are small pimples that appear around my period that leave dark spots for months and dry skin. I recently changed the order of applying my Tretinoin from last to after my toner, being more diligent in my morning routine, and just started using TO eye serum. I have noticed my dry skin has been less of a concern as long as I do my morning routine. If it's relevant, I also get botox in my 11 area and a bit on my forehead. Thank you!!
(TL;DR Looking for product/routine recommendations. I have dark circles, minor acne around period, dark spots, and dry skin.)
So after all that, here's my routine lol:
AM
Rinse face with lukewarm water, I leave it a bit damp before applying these products
The Ordinary Hyaluronic Acid
COSRX Advanced Snail 96 Mucin Power Essence
The Ordinary Multi-Peptide Eye Serum
Paula's Choice C5 Super Boost Moisturizer
Supergoop Unseen Sunscreen
PM
Banila Co. Clean it Zero Cleansing Balm Original
Youth to the People Superfood Cleanser
The Ordinary Glycolic Acid Toning Solution
Tretinoin Cream .05%
Wait 10 minutes
The Ordinary Hyaluronic Acid
COSRX Advanced Snail 96 Mucin Power Essence
The Ordinary Multi-Peptide Eye Serum
Tanologist drops (3 drops as needed mixed with moisturizer)
Cerave Moisturizing Cream
Aquaphor (under eyes and on lips)
submitted by meisterduu to SkincareAddiction [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 17:34 disco-dingus There’s something wrong with the cacti in the Sonoran Desert, AZ

I’m not a good guy and I’ll never claim to be. I’ve done things I’m not proud of for a shit ton of money. But that’s not what this is about; at least not directly.
Something happened to me recently and I want to get out of this line of work for good. Unfortunately that’s easier said than done. No one gets out of this line of work without digging their own grave. That’s not a metaphor; I’ve seen it happen. But I think I’ll take my chances and run.
It was a simple enough job, one that had gone down countless times:
Drive to a secluded area of the desert, meet shady guys, swap packages, bring said package back to Jules; the big boss.
Alexi was my partner that evening. He was my kind of guy; didn’t say too much but always had your back. I drove us into the Sonoran and Alexi directed me to the exact location. I parked up and we waited.
The skies over the desert are always striking. It was a stunning swirl of purple and red that you only get to see at twilight. I admired it silently.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” said Alexi. He almost made me jump. "Look at the saguaro against those colors. Just beautiful.”
I smiled to myself as I nodded. "Agreed. That's a backdrop to die for."
“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that,” he said, taking out two 9mms from the glove box. He handed one to me and I checked the ammunition before tucking it into the waistband of my pants. We continued to watch over the desert in silence.
“It’s gonna happen someday,” I said.
“Well, yeah,” he said. “That’s life unfortunately.”
“You know what I mean. Prematurely, like an execution or…”
“Come on man!” he said. “Don’t spoil the moment.”
I laughed. “Here’s to dying of old age in Cancún.”
“Cuba for me, but I’d drink to that.”
Before long another car pulled up some hundred or so yards away, the headlights dipping. I took a deep breath and climbed out of my car, taking the holdall we’d been given from the trunk. Three guys stepped out of the other car.
“Fuck,” I said quietly. “Didn’t Jules say there’d be two guys?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Alexi, his hand in his waistband.
We stopped about 20 ft away as they lined up in a row. I looked at Alexi and gave him a quick nod before I walked to the halfway point. I put the holdall down and stepped back. The guy in the middle motioned to a guy with a briefcase, who proceeded to make the exchange. Alexi retrieved the briefcase and checked the contents, then nodded to me. The other guys looked satisfied too.
“Gentleman,” said one of the guys, then they returned to their car. I let out a breath as Alexi and I began our walk back.
“Easiest grand we’ll ever make,” said Alexi with a grin.
“It’s almost criminal how easy,” I laughed.
A loud bang pierced the air and Alexi was on the ground. I turned to see flashes in the distance as shots were fired.
“Alexi!” I shouted as I pulled out my handgun, ducking down. He rolled over groaning, pulling out his gun too.
“My leg,” he groaned. “Fuckers!”
Despite his injury he got to his feet and started firing.
“Jesus Alexi, take cover!” I yelled, running to a nearby rock. I took a few shots when I could. Alexi managed to hit one guy who I saw fall down. He came to his senses and limped to another rock for cover. I could make out the silhouettes of the two remaining guys. One of them made a beeline for Alexi and one came towards me.
I took a shot and ran for another rock, taking a moment to breathe. I heard a hissing noise from nearby. My first thought was a rattler, but it was followed by a whoosh and I felt a blow of cool air over me, like something big had quickly passed by. I turned with my gun outstretched. I could only see the outlines of the tall cacti.
A bullet hit the ground too close for comfort. I leaned over the rock and took a couple more shots, kicking myself at how off I was. I heard the guy skid on the ground as he reached my rock, taking cover on the other side.
“You’ll pay for Seymour!” he snarled.
“You took the first shot, asshole!” I yelled.
“And I’ll take the last!”
Another bullet hit nearby as I flinched. We were both taken off guard as two deep screams filled the air. One of them was definitely from Alexi. Looking over in that general direction I could see several tall, dark shapes moving across the desert.
“What the…” I said as the shapes left a cloud of dust. I heard another loud hiss on my other side and turned to see a saguaro, or at least what looked like a saguaro looming over me.
I screamed and fired directly at it, the flash revealing rows of deadly spines that retracted like wasp stingers. The cactus let out a high pitched squeal and swung an arm out, meeting my left bicep. I screamed in pain as the spines punctured my skin.
It started to suckle. The muscles in my arm pulsed as the cactus attached like the tentacles of an octopus. It was feeding from me!
I fired my remaining shots and screamed until I was out of breath. The cactus squealed as bullets penetrated its green flesh, but it didn't let me go. It appeared to breathe as it suckled. When I tried to pull away it felt like my arm was going to tear away from my shoulder!
“You fucking freak!” the guy yelled as I heard more shots. The cactus squealed as it let me go. I took the opportunity to run, starting on all fours before getting to my feet. The guy was close behind me firing into the night. The saguaro gave chase, its roots still firmly in the ground as if it was being dragged beneath the earth.
“What the fuck is it?” I shouted, clinging to my bloody arm.
“Are you blind?” he yelled. “It’s a fucking giant-assed cactus!”
I made it to another rock, this one larger than the others. I started to climb it, my arm stinging like a son-of-a-bitch! I grimaced through the pain and made it to the top some 10 ft from the ground. The guy took another shot behind him and started to climb. I reached down with my good arm.
“Give me your hand!”
It’s amazing how a scenario like that can change your stance. I genuinely wanted to help him, but that wasn’t to be. The saguaro caught up and two of its several arms closed around him. He screamed out as his arm was pulled away from me, and two more shots were fired into the ground before he dropped the gun.
“Oh God!” he screamed. “Help me!”
I could only watch in terror as his body began to convulse and shrivel. His skin rippled as if his insides were being sucked into the cactus. He made several gargled attempts at crying for help before giving up, or he simply couldn't anymore.
I ran. I jumped from the back of the rock and fucking ran. The whole time I could hear a terrifying symphony of hisses behind me. The ground vibrated under my feet as clouds of dust shot across the desert. But I made it. My chest burned like I’d run a marathon but I made it to my car, starting the engine as cacti hurled themselves into it.
As I sped away I prayed that Alexi had somehow escaped. I felt truly awful for leaving him like that, but I had no choice.

I sat in Jules’ office as my arm was bandaged up by his right-hand man, Nails. Looking at it in the light it was covered in rows of circular puncture wounds.
“Where’s the briefcase?” said Jules with a smirk.
“Boss, come on,” I pleaded. “Look at me.”
“Where. Is. The. Brief. Case?”
I shook my head. “Something’s out there, boss. In the Sonoran. Something that isn't… natural.”
“Where’s the fucking briefcase?" He cocked a gun at me as Nails squeezed my arm, patches of blood seeping through the bandages.
“It’s in the fucking desert!” I screamed.
He smiled. “Then I suggest you go get it from the fucking desert.”
I shook my head, trying to hold back tears. “Please boss. Don’t make me go back there. The cacti… They’re not right. They feed on…”
He started laughing hysterically. “Did I ever tell you why we call him Nails?”
Jules held up a pair of pointed pliers, then handed them to Nails. He grabbed my hand and stretched out one of my fingers, nipping the end of my nail with the tool.
“Okay!” I yelled, my heart thumping. “Okay, I’ll go back!”
“Good boy,” said Jules. “Nails, why don’t go with him. Hold the baby’s hand.”
Nails didn’t speak, just nodded.
“Oh. And if the briefcase isn’t there, put a bullet in this motherfucker’s head.”

We drove in silence, Nails pointing the gun at me the whole journey. He didn’t convey any emotion. In fact, thinking about it I don’t think I’d heard him mutter a single word. Ever. He had this gift of appearing super intense while looking like he couldn’t give the slightest fuck.
I pulled up in the same area I’d parked the previous evening, the sun now starting to rise. The car belonging to the other guys was still parked up in the distance with the doors open. I cautiously stepped out of my car. There were several tall cacti dotted around.
“It must be in this area somewhere,” I said. “Will you help me look?”
Nails just stared at me with the gun by his side.
“Okay… Well, I’m gonna look over here. But seriously Nails, watch your back. These things are alive.”
He continued to stare deadpan as I started searching for the briefcase, trying to find the area where Alexi had been shot. That was likely where I'd find it as he’d been holding it at the time. But there was still a chance he’d made it out of there with it. That didn’t put me in a good position though as my life currently depended on finding it.
After looking for a few minutes I found some spots of blood on the ground. I got a shiver down my spine as I was reminded of the evening’s events. As I searched I looked over my shoulder and listened out for hissing. But none of the saguaro looked particularly alive. They just looked like ordinary cacti.
My heart jumped when I saw the briefcase.
“Oh, thank God!” I yelled. It was leaning against a rock. I assumed it must have been the rock that Alexi had taken shelter behind, the last place I saw him. He was nowhere to be seen though.
I picked up the briefcase and held it to my chest, closing my eyes to appreciate the moment.
It was disturbed by laughter.
I looked around to see Nails standing in front of a saguaro, and he was laughing his head off. I had to do a double take. This man had never even smiled in my presence, let alone laughed!
With the briefcase secured I made my way towards him.
“I got it!” I yelled, holding it up.
He kept laughing as he looked up at that darn cactus. When I reached him he was doubled over! Something had tickled him. He was human after all.
“Alright Nails, what’s so funny?”
When I looked up I almost fell back in horror.
It was Alexi, or at least part of Alexi. His face was pinned to the top of the cactus.
dd
DB
submitted by disco-dingus to nosleep [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 16:57 SirCheeseAlot I wonder how many people actually like themselves, and how many people use others view of them to satiate a lack of value in themselves?

It seems like there are four options here.
1 - No one values you, and you dont value yourself.
2 - Others value you, but you dont value yourself.
3 - Others value you, and you value yourself.
4 - Others dont value you, but you value yourself.
I think option 2 is most people. Most people have a lot of insecurities they hide, and seek out acceptance by conforming to social norms. Or they are a narcissist.
Option 1 is probably a lot of us in this sub. You may wear a mask and try to fit in, but even that doesnt work out for you. Or you give up trying to fit in.
Option 4 is either a delusional thinker, or some hermit that just does their own thing.
Option 3 seems to be the ultimate goal. That seems like a tricky one though. You basically need to have desires that line up with what others want. It would also be environment dependent. Your values, morals, physical attributes, etc would need to line up with that of the communities values. What happens when you dont agree with the community? You are stuck in option 4.
Ultimately it would be best to learn to value yourself, regardless of others opinions. Unless you are trying to genetically engineer giant kaiju to unleash on the planet. Or something similar.
How do you learn to value yourself? So much of a persons worth is tied up in how others perceive them. A lot of us were abused, neglected, and ridiculed growing up. It almost became a defense to think poorly of ourselves. A way to deflect attacks, by attacking ourselves first.
I logically can conceive of what valuing yourself means, but its a bit like trying to understand what taking acid is like when you have never taken it. Maybe it just takes time to learn how to internalize self worth. It is setting boundaries for yourself. Saying no to things. Taking care of your self. Like taking a shower, exercising, eating good food. Expending the energy to do the things that matter to you, instead of just laying in bed all day watching youtube.
Sorry this is super rambling. Im just trying to understand this, and work it out in my mind. Maybe valuing yourself takes work. Like doing the work our parents didnt do. Expending the energy to treat ourselves in a way that shows to our selves that we value them. Instead of neglecting their needs and wants.
Not sure. What do you guys think? DO you have any ideas to add to this?
submitted by SirCheeseAlot to CPTSDFreeze [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 16:49 Throwaway-912873465 I am processing what I think may have been covert invest and covert sexual abuse by my Ndad. Looking for validation. I feel so confused and violated.

I started having a lot of flashbacks recently about comments and things my dad would do that made me feel uncomfortable and brought up a lot of shame, so I started journaling and then it all kind of started floating up to the surface. I have felt anger and resentment towards my dad since I was a child. I don't know if he has NPD, but he definitely has narcissistic traits. I don’t feel comfortable being around my dad, hugging him or wearing anything that may cause attention/a glance from him. For some reason a part of me is wanting to deny that any of this was out of the ordinary and I’m being overdramatic. But I know that my feelings of being uncomfortable around my dad are coming from somewhere.

I have been dealing with sexual dysfunction and some other health problems and I wonder if there is a connection to what I went through growing up being sexualized by my dad. I hate my body and wish I could jump out of my skin. I just feel so confused and grossed out.
submitted by Throwaway-912873465 to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 16:28 zinbetter The Most Amazing NSV I’ve Ever Experienced.

Y’all. I’ve been fat since birth.
I hit 100lbs by 3rd grade. Maybe before. Going to the doctor filled me with so much dread.
My dad put me on so many diets. WW, Atkins.
The “walk around the mall after school for thirty minutes and then get rewarded with a cookie that’s obviously more calories than you burned off walking” diet.
I wasn’t allowed to do cheerleading, wear a tankini, ride the flying bike at the science center because it involved stepping on a scale, ride a zip line, or eat carbs for the entirety of my childhood. I remember my dad calling ahead to my school to tell them I couldn’t do the rock wall because I was too fat.
By the time I was old enough to choose to do some of these things on my own, (age 15+) actual weight limits became known to me and I exceeded most of them. (Like all of them.) I was at 280lbs by the time I was a sophomore in high school. I teetered around 300 at graduation. 320lbs after my first pregnancy.
I’ve hung out there since.
Yesterday I took my kids to a “fun center” with zip lines, climbing walls, VR, the whole thing.
Go-Karts had a 300lb weight limit. I stood in line just to help my youngest get buckled. I didn’t even have a wrist band.
I buckled my kid and the attendant said “go to number 7.”
Y’all I looked at him like he just spoke Martian.
I am too fat to Go-Kart, sir.
Except I’m not. Not anymore.
My fucking eyes LIT UP. Like I could FEEL THE LIGHT. Wild.
As soon as I realized it, you can bet your ass I flew to go-kart number 7 and sat down. Then I reached for the buckle and my heart sank.
UNTIL IT FUCKING BUCKLED AT THE SAME LENGTH AS THE PERSON BEFORE ME HAD IT AT!!!!
That was it for me. My life literally changed in that moment.
I bought a wrist band and I did it all.
I am going to experience every single thing I didn’t get to experience as a kid.
Hell, I might take some adult gymnastics classes.
Waterslides in my tankini this summer? 10000% yes. Maybe I’ll even wear a…BIKINI! Gasp.
Zip lining? Yep. Somewhere fun. One of those outdoor adventure places. I’m already looking them up.
What else? I want to do it all.
Playgrounds and the stupid flying bike. I’m going to do that bike.
Y’all what even is this life.
If you read this far you get the deets:
SW: 321 (Sept 2022) CW: 240.6 (March 2023)
Total lost: 80 (and change) Percentage lost: 24.9%
submitted by zinbetter to Mounjaro [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 16:27 vasagle_gleblu Once upon a time, there was a bird...

This was not any ordinary bird however, as he was able to speak and understand English at a perfect level. For quite a while, he didn't use it much to his advantage. He was content simply fluttering around and living peacefully with his bird wife.
But one day, tragedy struck! Our bird one day woke up to an empty nest, no bird kids, no bird wife, just him and some twigs.
He starts asking around his bird community, and eventually pieces together that his bird wife got tired of him and his lack of ambition. She took the bird kids and flew off to stay with her bird Mother.
Our bird was left with an overwhelming sense of listlessness, realizing that everything he had worked towards in his bird life was now gone.
Our bird, now destitute and lonely, decided he was tired of bird life, and wanted to use his English speaking ability to try something new.
He decides to fly into the nearest human town, and observe for a bit. He perched himself on a tree overlooking the main street of the town, and simply watched.
After an hour or two, he noticed several people heading into a building, one labelled as "Bar". He decides that if he wants to truly utilize his prowess of the English language, the best place to start is with other English speakers, so he flies down to the building and hops his way inside.
Our bird makes his way over the bar, hops up on a stool, and says "Hey bartender, can I get a drink?" The bartender and a few other people nearby notice that these words came out of a bird and are immediately and completely enthralled and bewildered by this sight.
The bartender saunters over and asks "Did you just ask for a drink? But you're a bird! I've never seen anything like this before, but if you want a drink I'm happy to oblige".
The bartender pours the bird some water, places it in front of him, and they start chatting. After realizing what was happening, every patron at the bar is standing around the bird, eager to get another peek at this otherworldly phenomenon. People ask the bird some questions, and the bird happily responds, informing them all of his plight and his goal to take full advantage of his gift. More people make their way to him, snapping pictures and videos to share with their friends. The bird loves all the attention and is more than happy to indulge each and every customer who comes up to him.
After a few hours, closing time rolls around. Most people make their way out of the bar, ecstatic to share their newfound memories with family and friends.
Once most the crowd is gone, however, another man makes his way up to the bird. The man says "Hey, I think you've got an incredible gift and a heart-warming story. I'm the Principal of our local high school, and I reckon your story would make a wonderfully uplifting tale to share with the students. So how about it? Would you like to give a speech at my school tomorrow?"
The bird gives the best smile he can manage (with a beak) and tells the principal that yes, he would love to give a speech! The man and the bird try their best at a handshake and agree to meet in the high school's gym tomorrow at noon. The bird makes his way out of the bar and into a tree, getting as comfortable as he can for the next day's events.
Some time passes, and the sun rises once again, the bird with it. He doesn't have the best grasp on human measured time, but he decides to make his way over the gym as soon as he can. He flies on over to the high school, and lands behind the gym, where the principal he met yesterday is waiting. A massive grin spreads over the man's face as he greets the bird, thrilled that his guest speaker arrived on time. They both make their way into the gym, where a stack of dictionaries is set up on a chair so the bird can speak into the microphone. The bird hops on over, gives the mic a couple pecks to make sure it's on, and begins to deliver a rousing and inspirational speech to the hordes of high schoolers seated in front of him.
The bird's speech goes on for an hour or so, and the whole time the entire audience is captivated and totally in awe. The bird tells them of the mishap with his bird family, and his desire to be the best bird he can be. His speech finishes, and after a few seconds of silence, the crowd erupts into a cacophony of applause and cheers. The audience loved him!
After many a bow and chirped "thank you's" most of the crowd makes their way back to their classes. The principal once again gives his appreciation to the bird for his rousing speech, and moves on with his day. Before the bird could make his way out of the gym, however, he is stopped by a woman.
She greets him, and informs him how much his speech meant to her and everyone else. She introduces herself as a high-end event organizer whose son goes to the school. When she heard a bird was giving a speech, she decided to see it in person. After many a compliment, she has a favour to ask of the bird. She says that she's organizing a very high class gala, with powerful and influential people from across the globe. She then asks if the bird would be willing to make his way to the event and give another speech, as she believes the bird's last speech was the best she had ever heard. The bird, now realizing just how far his gift can get him, enthusiastically agrees and promises to show up the gala tomorrow.
Another night passes and the bird awakens, realizing he has to make his way over the gala immediately! He takes to the skies, scanning far and wide for an expensive looking building, before he eventually finds it. He glides down to the front door, where a butler is waiting for him. Upon seeing the bird, the butler immediately opens the door and ushers our bird in, letting him know that he's been expected. The bird makes his way inside, and is blown away by just how impressive everything looks. Million dollar chandeliers, windows from the floor to the ceiling and columns that dwarf the people nearby. After taking it all in, the event planner he met yesterday finds and greets him. She tells our bird that he is due to give a speech in just a few minutes here, and wishes him the best of luck. The bird makes his way up the stage and prepares to give his all in another speech.
The bird regales them with the unfortunate tale of his bird family, his battle with unending listlessness, and finishes with how proud he was that he decided to use his gift. The crowd, once again totally dumbstruck by a bird speaking so eloquently, explodes with applause. It echoes throughout the building, causing quite a ruckus. Many people come up to him, attempt to shake his wing, and give them their compliments. There's so many people in suits and dresses that they start to blend together a bit to our bird.
Once the crowd dies down a bit, he is approached by one last lady. She compliments the bird's speech, and asks if he would like to grab a drink with her. The bird, exhausted from being around so many people, gladly takes the opportunity to relax at a table with her. They start talking, and before long she informs him that she is a presidential aide, and with the bird's prowess of the English language she wants him to give a speech to the entire United States! The bird is once again thrilled to have such an opportunity, and emphatically agrees. However, the speech is a week down the line, and the pair agree to simply relax and take it easy tonight. They keep chatting, telling each other about their personal lives and going on's. They seem to be hitting it off quite well!
Before it got too late, however, the lady asked the bird if he would be so kind as to get them some refreshments. The bird happily obliges.
Our bird takes a look around, and notices that refreshments are served in an odd manner here. Rather than have a bar, there are several stands where people line up for a drink. The bird takes notices of this, and decides to go over to a few stands. The first one he visits is serving wine, and given how this is a high class event, it's quite a long wait for some wine, so he moves on.
The next stand is serving beer, which is popular as ever, and has an even longer queue. So the bird moves on. He notices there's a stand serving punch, so he decides to get some of that as there is no punch line.
submitted by vasagle_gleblu to dadjokes [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 16:16 Elegant_Sweet_9612 An Unforgettable Journey To Nandi Hills Karnataka

An Unforgettable Journey To Nandi Hills Karnataka
Nandi Hills or Nandi betta is a hill station located in the Chikkaballapur district of Karnataka, India. The hill is located just 60 km from Bangalore, the capital of Karnataka. It is situated at an altitude of 4851 feet above sea level. Nandi Hills karnataka has been a popular tourist destination for decades, and is known for its breathtaking views of the surrounding valleys and hills.

https://preview.redd.it/lczs3y4c23ra1.jpg?width=5184&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=fc587968b83d6cb6c612b1dfe30a1421383c562c
The hill is also home to several ancient temples and monuments, such as the famous Nandi Temple, which dates back to the 16th century. Nandi Hills is a great place to escape the hustle and bustle of the city and enjoy some peace and quiet. It is also a popular destination for adventure activities such as rock climbing, trekking, rappelling, and paragliding. The area is also known for its birdwatching opportunities and is home to several species of birds, including the white-throated kingfisher and the black eagle.
Explore The Adventure Activities in Nandi hills karnataka
Nandi Hills in Karnataka is a popular destination for adventure enthusiasts. From trekking to mountain biking, from paragliding to zip-lining, the hills offer something for everyone.
Trekking:
Trekking is one of the most popular activities at Nandi Hills. The hills offer a range of trails of varying difficulty, ranging from easy to moderate.
The trails are marked and well-maintained, making it easy for even novice trekkers to explore the hills. The hills also offer stunning views of the surrounding areas, making it a perfect destination for a day of trekking.
Mountain Biking:
For those who are looking for an adrenaline rush, mountain biking is the perfect activity. The hills offer a number of trails that are perfect for mountain biking. The terrain is rugged and challenging, making it perfect for experienced mountain bikers.
Paragliding:
For those looking for a bird's eye view of the hills, there is no better way than paragliding. Paragliding in Nandi hills is a popular activity and offers an unparalleled view of the hills and the surrounding areas. The hills offer an ideal launch point for paragliding, making it a great way to enjoy the area.
Nandi Hills is a popular destination for paragliding in India. It offers stunning views of the surrounding area and is home to many experienced paragliders.
The cost of paragliding in Nandi Hills depends on a number of factors such as the duration of the flight, the type of equipment used, and the number of people taking part. On average, paragliding prices in Nandi Hills can range from Rs. 2,000 to Rs. 30,000. The cost also includes the instructor's fee and the cost of the equipment.
Zip-Lining:
For those looking for a thrilling activity, zip-lining is the way to go. The hills offer a number of zip-lines of varying difficulty and length, making it perfect for both novice and experienced zip-liners.
Nandi Hills is a perfect destination for adventure seekers. The hills offer a variety of activities, ranging from trekking to zip-lining, making it the perfect place for an outdoor adventure.
Skydiving in Bangalore: An Adrenaline-Fueled Adventure
Skydiving in Bangalore is an adrenaline-filled adventure that offers the thrill of a lifetime. Located in the southern Indian state of Karnataka, Bangalore is the third-largest city in India and is known for its dynamic culture and vibrant nightlife.
From its ancient monuments and temples to its modern shopping malls, Bangalore is a city of contrasts, and its urban landscape makes it an ideal spot for a skydiving experience.
Skydiving in Bangalore is a unique experience that is sure to provide an unforgettable adventure. While skydiving, you will be able to take in the stunning views of the city, as well as the beautiful landscapes of the surrounding countryside.
As you soar through the sky, you will have the chance to catch glimpses of the famous landmarks such as the Bangalore Palace and Bannerghatta National Park.
  1. Research Your Destination: Research the safety record of any skydiving centre you are considering.
  2. Follow the Rules: Make sure you follow the safety rules of the skydiving centre. Don't take any chances that could potentially compromise your safety.
  3. Wear the Appropriate Gear: Wear the appropriate gear for skydiving, including a helmet, goggles, and a jumpsuit. Also, make sure your parachute is packed correctly.
  4. Check the Weather: Check the weather forecast before you go skydiving. If the weather isn't favourable, it's best to reschedule your jump.
  5. Listen to Your Instructor: Listen to your instructor carefully and follow their instructions. They know what they're doing and will help you stay safe.
  6. Stay Calm: It's important to stay calm when you're skydiving. Don't panic or try to do anything out of the ordinary; just trust your instructor and follow their instructions.
  7. Be Prepared: Make sure you're physically and mentally prepared for skydiving. Don't drink or take drugs before your jump.
  8. Be Aware of Your Surroundings: Be aware of your surroundings and the other jumpers. Make sure you don't get too close to them or their parachutes.
  9. Don't Rush: Don't rush your skydive. Take your time and enjoy the experience. 10. Have Fun: Above all, remember to have fun and stay safe.
  10. Skydiving can be a thrilling experience, but it's important to remain vigilant and follow all safety protocols.
submitted by Elegant_Sweet_9612 to u/Elegant_Sweet_9612 [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 16:16 lekipalacsinta what are these?

what are these?
i’ve been struggling with these tiny pimples on my forehead and somewhere on my cheeks for about 1 year. im really giving up, theres nothing that helps for me. ive tried salicylic acid, azelaic acid before, didnt worked. i have oily, dehydrated skin my routine is like this:
am revox hyaluronic serum, cerave moisturizing cream, revox spf.
pm cerave foaming cleanser, once a week the ordinary aha bha peeling solution but i switched to the ordinary lactic acid, cerave moisturizing cream
submitted by lekipalacsinta to acne [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 16:10 CrazyScorpio1995 BackRooms Maybe?

Hey, so I heard stories about people who can dream and go to the back rooms? I don’t know if it’s true or not however….yesterday night I had a dream that I hadn’t had in a very long time, and I had Had this before I ever Heard of the back rooms, i’m in my 20s now and I think the last time I had this dream was when I was like 1314 somewhere in there and my dreams are always like an acid trip and I feel pain in my dreams sometimes, so for some reason I was in the lines for an airport, and I was A little 8 year-old I’m not even sure if I was me. I never know if I’m me in my dreams, anyway people are just acting normal nothing weird and then suddenly I decide to runoff with my little friend. Who appeared out of nowhere and we go down several different hallways and then decided to split up I continue going for a little while and i end up in a knickknack like building and there are tons of knickknacks that never end that I want to take home with me like I guess from Airport gift shop or some thing they’re all really cool looking and then suddenly I was really scared. I started walking fast through a bunch of different doors. One of them I think was an ice door or room or something a lot of the doors I didn’t pay attention to until I got to the closet door and some frilly little girls room,my room was never frilly it was pink, but it wasn’t Lacey lace with dollies everywhere anyway so I end up in front of a closet door and it suddenly opens and there’s A terrifying skeleton in the closet that tries to get me so I run down The stairs and out of this house that I’ve never seen before and go outside and just Get sad and sit in this muddy big backyard that I’ve never seen before, Then, suddenly, I’m at my current house and after five minutes of trying to comprehend what went on, I woke up
submitted by CrazyScorpio1995 to shareyourbackroomspic [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 15:47 cementmilkshake 2 year old surgery scars + Glycolic acid

2 year old surgery scars + Glycolic acid
2 years ago I had surgery and the cannula left these pimple looking scars on me. I just got TO glycolic acid and applied that to them this week maybe 2 or 3 times. Last night I noticed one of my scars started turning dark purple/red and felt itchy. The other scar looks and feels the same as before (pink with yellow middle). I put some neosporin on the red itchy one and went to bed. This morning I checked on the red itchy one, and (this is gross) it was oozing out pus and if I applied slight pressure more would come out just like a pimple. Is it possible that this is a good sign and it’s finally clearing out a closed up pimple beneath my scar? Or am I burning off my skin? No idea if I should be happy or terrified lol!
submitted by cementmilkshake to Skincare_Addiction [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 15:46 high_art3115 [PS1] [late 90s] FPS with a distinctly ancient Egyptian theme

I’m still racking my brain to remember whether I played this on a demo disc or the full game, but regardless it was a first-person shooter along the lines of Doom and Duke Nukem 3D (pixel sprites, etc) but a lot more PG.
The main thing I remember is fighting enemies that looked a lot like Anubis, maybe scarab beetles too? I had a machine gun and perhaps a sword/knife, and I think at one stage had a staff that shot electricity/magic or something.
This would have been late 90s, maybe 98/99, or at the very latest, early 2000s. The colourway was very bright, light sand colours and bright ruby red gems and light blues in the sky and water (which you were able to swim in).
Any help would be greatly appreciated! Tell me I’m not just having some bizarre acid flashback 😂
submitted by high_art3115 to tipofmyjoystick [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 15:45 sydneytaylor1213 New breakout

New breakout
I’ve been having bad allergies so my nose has been constantly runny, which is what I suspect caused this breakout. I wash my face 1-2x a day, retinol every other day, glycolic acid toner on non retinol days in the PM. The rest of the time I use a ceramide toner, LaRoche Posay’s wash for dry skin, Vitamin C, peptides and caffeine eye solution in the AM, hyaluronic acid and ceramide serum in the PM.
Do I need to add something? Keep up the work and it’ll fade with patience? Any advice welcome☺️
submitted by sydneytaylor1213 to SkincareAddicts [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 15:45 BTRCguy Across the Vatna Jökull (excerpts)

This is from an 1876 book by William Lord Watts, on an expedition (possibly the first) to hike across Vatnajökull. The full book is available on Project Gutenberg.
Opening lines:
Iceland again! Reykjavík again! Here I am upon the same errand as in 1871 and 1874—foolhardiness and folly as it is denounced by some at home. I fancy I can see some of my worthy countrymen at ten o’clock in the morning, clad in dressing-gown and slippers, breakfast half finished, and a copy of some journal that has condescended to take notice of my little expedition in his hand. Umph! he says, 5,000 square miles of uninhabited country, a howling wilderness, nothing but volcanoes, ice, and snow—a man must be a fool to want to go there; no one ever has crossed this cold, desolate region, why, in the name of everything that is worth pounds, shillings, and pence, should any one be mad enough to want to do so now?
South coast tourism:
The weather cleared about 8 A.M. and we had a good view of Mount Hekla as we forded the West Rángá. We stopped between the rivers East and West Rángá, where we had to pay for one of the horses we were riding, for Paul had only brought it with him to Reykjavík on sale or return. Here we took coffee, and next proceeded to Breiða-bólstaðr, where, as usual, we were received with great kindness and hospitality. After taking two hours’ sleep, we pushed on to Holt, which we reached about 1 P.M. The day was half spent before we were again on our way; so we rode briskly to Skógarfoss, one of the largest and most beautiful waterfalls in Iceland, where there is a very good farm, and the people are extremely thrifty. I suppose they had never been able to procure any of the legendary gold beneath the falls of Skógarfoss, but they evidently manage to screw a tolerable amount out of travellers who come to admire its beauties.
Apparently the local Bónus was closed:
Preparations for our journey across the Vatna now commenced in earnest. The sleighs and the snow-shoes had been made according to our instructions. All was there except the men and the butter; enough of the latter, however, turned up in the morning to enable us to make the pemmican, which I at once set myself to work to superintend.
A fire was lighted and a cauldron of water soon heated, and the beef boiled; then came the work of cutting up an entire ox into pieces the size of ordinary wine-corks. Paul senior, and I commenced operations by first taking out the bones; and, by dint of sharp knives, and a few hours’ hard work, we prepared about seventy-eight pounds of meat. Twenty pounds of salt butter and half-a-pound of salt were then melted in the cauldron, and the meat carefully mixed with it. After a short time it was ready to be packed in the skin bags in which it was to be carried.
The bags were placed in troughs of water during the operation of filling, to prevent leakage at the seams, and when they were filled they were tied up and laid in a stream close by, where stones were piled upon them to press down the meat. When they were sufficiently pressed, and the contents had become cold (which took about twenty hours), they were each placed in ordinary sacks for more easy carriage; for greasy skin-bags full of meat are rather slippery things to carry, and somewhat nasty things to handle.
Our provisions consisted of 100 lbs. of pemmican in skin bags, 50 lbs. of butter, 100 lbs. of skonrok, or Danish ship-biscuits, 15 lbs. of dried fish, 15 lbs. of dried mutton, 15 lbs. of gravy soup, 2 tins of “soupe Julienne,” in packets; 6 tins of chocolate and milk, 2 lbs. of cocoa, and 4 lbs. of sugar; 2 gallons of proof whiskey, 1 gallon of spirit for burning, 5 lbs. of tobacco, and 3 tins of Peek and Frean’s meat biscuits. I had a small Russian furnace, which is an excellent lamp for heating water or melting snow. These articles, with a good supply of warm clothing, waterproofs, and mocassins (for it is impossible to wear leather boots in the snow), and the necessary instruments and implements, completed our outfit.
19th century outfitting for a hike:
Our equipment, which was to be drawn upon hand-sleighs, consisted of a low tent, four feet high; a large sleeping-bag, which would accommodate six of us—this was eight feet long, and five feet wide—one side being made of a layer of cork and felt, covered with mackintosh, and the other of a stout blanket also covered with waterproof. This bag was open at both ends, so that three could sleep with their heads one way and three with their heads the other. Both these openings were covered by a hood, which proved a great protection to our heads while sleeping, and prevented the snow from getting into the bag. This gave us sleeping accommodation for six persons, with a weight of only sixty pounds. This bed, however, had its disadvantages; for instance, if any one was taken with cramp, or dreamt of engaging in any particularly active exercise, its limited dimensions became painfully apparent; moreover, it is almost impossible to keep the inside of the bag perfectly dry, owing to the exhalation from our bodies. I have paid great attention to this matter, but have found that for a prolonged sojourn amidst wet snow, where weight is a subject of paramount importance, it is the best sleeping arrangement that can be contrived.
Tourists and bad weather:
By 4 P.M. the wind shifted back to its old quarter, S.S.E., and, despairing of frost, we again betook ourselves to the tent. Towards midnight, for about the twentieth time, I went out with Paul to look at the weather. We tried the sleighs, and found it was as much as one man could do to pull a sleigh with nothing on it, and a very small weight almost buried the sleigh in the snow, and enabled it to resist our united efforts to get it along. During our experiment we sunk very deep into the snow. For the last three days I had put every one on half rations, and as anything is better than inactivity with insufficient food, we determined to abandon our sleighs and attempt to force our way through the snow, carrying everything upon our backs. It was rather foggy and sleeting, but the wind was blowing pretty steadily. We communicated our determination to the rest of our party, and they quietly accepted it without a murmur. We packed up everything, and leaving our sleighs and a gathering storm behind us, we turned our faces northward with a cheer which was more animated than might have been expected under the circumstances. I must say our position bore rather a forlorn aspect. Six men heavily laden, wading through snow up to their knees at every step, no view but an ever-advancing circle of gloom, the only variation being that it was darker towards the south, from which quarter a strong wind was blowing, with squalls of sleet and snow. About every quarter of an hour we had to stop from sheer exhaustion, and after two or three hours’ arduous toil two of my men became quite incapacitated and too ill to proceed. This was evidently not a case of sham. I therefore halted, and served out with all speed some warm grog; one man was spitting blood, and another was suffering severe pains in the stomach.
Tourists and volcanoes:
Toiling up the sides of the mountain, the mist thickened, while dense clouds settled around us as though they would draw us into the volcano; the smell grew sickening, and the pumice more muddy. What was falling, rain or sand? Neither; it was a kind of fatty loam, falling in coarse granules, the smells from which were most offensive, and it was very fortunate we were almost to windward of the volcano, or progress would have been impossible. My aneroid here marked 3500 feet, and as higher and higher we climbed the mist cleared a little, until we stood upon the top; while beneath us lay a pandemonium of steam and hideous sounds. Suddenly a fearful crash made us stand aghast; it seemed as if half the mountain had tumbled in upon the other side of this horrible valley, and for some time we could see nothing for the dense clouds of steam which seethed up before us, and the heavy rain of loam which was falling, while the most hideous shrieks, groans, booming and screaming sounds rose from all parts of this terrible depression, the bottom of which was now utterly obscured. Again and again came a crash and a roar from the opposite side, and also occasionally from the side we were standing upon. The sides of the crater were evidently falling in, and huge wide cracks, even where we stood, showed us that our position was not altogether a safe one; but the wind was clearing the clouds away, so, seating ourselves upon some large blocks of pumice, we lit our pipes and waited until we could obtain a better view.
Knows what Myvatn means:
A wadi near the summit which divides the Námufjall upon the south from the Dalfjall upon the west, brought us to the western side of the sulphur hills, where we first caught sight of the Lake of Mývatn, or Midge-water, upon the north end of which Reykjahlíð is situated. Lake Mývatn is seen to the best advantage at a distance, but it cannot lay claim to great beauty of appearance, although certainly both remarkable and interesting. Surrounded as it is with volcanic mountains, and rugged lava streams stretching along its shores, studded with misshapen little islands, it presents an eccentric and striking aspect. A short ride past spluttering and steaming solfataras brought us to the farm of Reykjahlíð, where we were hospitably received by the bóndi Pètur Jónsson, who was expecting our arrival. Reykjahlíð is of the average better class of byre. The farm is a good one, and has been in the possession of the same family for 600 years.
Akureyri:
Although Akreyri is not so extensive a settlement as Reykjavík, it possesses a much better harbour, being shut in upon the east by the Vaðlaheiði, and upon the west by the hills of Súlur and the outlying mountains of the Vindheima Jökull, which rise in some places to the height of 3000 feet. The town is situated at the south end of the Eyjafjörð (island firth), taking its name from the little island of Hrísey which lies in its mouth. The trade of this small place does not equal that of its sister settlement, owing, perhaps, to the numerous stores situated in various fjords in the north of Iceland, whereas Reykjavík and Eyrarbakki command the trade of the greater part of the south, in consequence of the iron-bound nature of its coast. Arkeyri is composed of two streets of wooden frame-houses, one of which runs so close to the sea shore as to be occasionally flooded, and it has a renown of its own, from the largest trees in the whole island growing there. These however, are merely two or three mountain-ash trees, about 25 to 30 feet in height, flourishing in front of a house facing the fjord, belonging to one of the principal store keepers!
Taunting the tourists:
Accompanied by Paul, I determined to inspect this manufacture, so, passing through an avenue of vats full of sharks’ putrid livers, reeking and sweltering in the sun, we thrust our pocket-handkerchiefs into our mouths and plunged into the boiling-house. Here about half-a-dozen cauldrons of sharks’ livers were simmering, and slowly “frying out” the filthy but valuable shark-oil, exhaling the foulest stench imaginable. Three grimy oleaginous men and a boy, who seemed to thrive amid their abominable surroundings, were engaged in stoking the fires, stirring up the stewing livers and baling out the oil, as it accumulated, into a long trough, which discharged itself into a large iron tank outside, whence it was drawn off again into barrels ready for shipment to the various parts of the world where there is a demand for such a very unpleasant lubricator. The men seemed quite surprised that we found anything disagreeable in the smell of the oil, and seemed quite to enjoy giving the cauldrons an extra stir on our account, which was a pleasure we could have dispensed with.
A waterfall connoisseur:
I sent Paul and Olgi on with the baggage while I, accompanied by the old man’s son, went a little out of the way to visit the waterfall of Alderjufoss, where the river Skjálfandifljót pours into a rift in an ancient lava stream, about forty-five feet deep. This sight is well worth going out of the way to see, as it is a much finer fall than the Godafoss. The most remarkable feature about these falls, however, is the wall of rock over which they descend, the bottom of the wall being composed of perpendicular basaltic columns, overlaid by a compact basaltic lava of a very crystalline nature, while the columns themselves are of a compact stony basaltic lava, but in neither of the specimens I broke off could I find a single crystal. I am, however, inclined to think that both lavas are of identical composition, and of contemporaneous production.
More tourist antics:
Great Geysir did not favour us with an eruption, as we had wished, so we stirred up Stroker with the usual meal of turf, which caused it to spout, but scarcely to the same height as when I witnessed its performance in 1874.
Possibly the first example of group tours:
With the Post ship came several tourists who were bent on making a few days’ excursion in the island. We therefore made up a party, including Miss Oswald, Miss Menzies, Mr. Young, of Edinburgh, and myself, to pay a visit with Oddr Gíslasson to some solfataras belonging to him at Cape Reykjanes, and a very pleasant trip it was, though the way was extremely monotonous, being as usual over a series of lava streams flowing from the Krísuvík mountains.
I hope you found this amusing for your Friday and that it encourages you to download and read the whole thing, since many of you are multiple trip veterans and will recognize the places he visited on his trip.
submitted by BTRCguy to VisitingIceland [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 15:37 anonymous_googol How to talk about salary vs. equity?

Location: US, remote employee. Until I find another job (I’m doing everything I can and I know I’m on a sinking ship!), I work for a very tiny seed startup. We have a meeting coming up with no subject, and it’s between the CEO and the few staff we have so either we’re all being let go or they’re increasing the equity. CEO has promised equity increase for a few months now, and just after scheduling this meeting sent a few, “Hurrah! Company is doing great! Bright things ahead!” emails…so this meeting may be about an equity increase.
The problem is: we haven’t been paid in almost 4 pay periods. They are blaming this on our MIA HR volunteer, but I only half buy that because if I were a CEO making sure all my employees are getting paid would be in my Top 5 List of Things to Do Today. The company also owes me months of health insurance reimbursements at this point - stipulated in my offer letter which I understand is not a binding contract but still…people generally accept offer letters expecting to receive the things in them. But I understand this money is lost and I'll never see it. It's just that I'm stuck paying for health insurance with no salary...I'm burning up my savings which is a problem because I shouldn't have to.
Increased equity is great…increased equity in a failing startup is, however, virtually useless (right?) Most importantly, equity doesn’t pay my rent. I don’t want to be the asshole who says this in the meeting, but…I don’t think I’m wrong. Under ordinary circumstances I’d be out of here already, but this is no ordinary economy. I’ve submitted TONS of applications and gotten no hits at all, and I'm pretty qualified and a good employee. Word on the street is hiring freezes all around. I’m working on it, but what to do in the meantime???? They HAVE to know they need to pay us. I don’t want to say anything that will get me fired because it’s harder to find a job when you’re unemployed. I do want to understand (from the CEO’s mouth, not my assumptions) the possible trajectories of this company (e.g., what happens if we become insolvent? when will you tell us? are you paying us with invested money or with a line of credit?) and just how hot this sauna is getting, LOL. Is there a way to ask this, or is it useless because he won’t be transparent with us anyway? Is it better to ask in a one-on-one?
Suggestions welcome. I know I sound like an idiot. I feel like an idiot. But they HAD been paying us regularly for a year and a half, and I HAVE asked multiple times about the finances and I was met with crickets or “the HR person won’t respond to us.” She’s a volunteer with a full-time job…so I bought that excuse when it was used to explain away not reimbursing my insurance, but I don’t buy it now that we’re just not getting paid. Unless they just think we’ll stay because we have no other choice (to be fair…that is why I’m still here). And I really have been putting a lot of energy into looking for another job...hopefully it pans out soon, and then I can just leave and forget this. I understand this is the risk of working for a startup. I don't think I fully understood that you could just be promised a salary and not get it...I guess this is what they call "improper risk management." Yes, I am an idiot. NO MORE STARTUPS!!!
submitted by anonymous_googol to careerguidance [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 15:23 MilitantCatholic_ Anti-Death Penalty (catholic edition)

The new evangelization calls for followers of Christ who are unconditionally pro-life: who will proclaim, celebrate and serve the Gospel of life in every situation. A sign of hope is the increasing recognition that the dignity of human life must never be taken away, even in the case of someone who has done great evil. . . . I renew the appeal I made . . . for a consensus to end the death penalty, which is both cruel and unnecessary. —Pope John Paul II Papal Mass, St. Louis, Missouri, January 27, 1999
Twenty-five years ago, our Conference of bishops first called for an end to the death penalty. We renew this call to seize a new moment and new momentum. This is a time to teach clearly, encourage reflection, and call for common action in the Catholic community to bring about an end to the use of the death penalty in our land. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
No matter how heinous the crime, if society can protect itself without ending a human life, it should do so. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
While the Old Testament includes some passages about taking the life of one who kills, the Old Testament and the teaching of Christ in the New Testament call us to protect life, practice mercy, and reject vengeance. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
When Cain killed Abel, God did not end Cain's life. Instead, he sent Cain into exile, not only sparing his life but protecting it by putting a mark on Cain, lest anyone should kill him at sight (Gn 4:15). —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
When the state, in our names and with our taxes, ends a human life despite having non-lethal alternatives, it suggests that society can overcome violence with violence. The use of the death penalty ought to be abandoned not only for what it does to those who are executed, but for what it does to all of society. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
Our faith and Catholic teaching offer a moral framework for choices about the use of the death penalty. A principled Catholic response to crime and punishment is rooted in our convictions about good and evil, sin and redemption, justice and mercy. It is also shaped by our commitment to the life and dignity of every human person, and the common good. The opening chapters of the Book of Genesis teach that every life is a precious gift from God (see Genesis 2:7, 21-23). This gift must be respected and protected. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
Each of us is called to respect the life and dignity of every human being. Even when people deny the dignity of others, we must still recognize that their dignity is a gift from God and is not something that is earned or lost through their behavior. Respect for life applies to all, even the perpetrators of terrible acts. Punishment should be consistent with the demands of justice and with respect for human life and dignity. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
In Catholic teaching the state has the recourse to impose the death penalty upon criminals convicted of heinous crimes if this ultimate sanction is the only available means to protect society from a grave threat to human life. However, this right should not be exercised when other ways are available to punish criminals and to protect society that are more respectful of human life. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
We also share the hurt and horror, the loss and heartache that are the result of unspeakable acts of violence. We have presided at the funerals of police officers killed in the line of duty and have consoled parents who have lost children. We have heard the anger and despair of victims families who feel ignored by the criminal justice system, society as a whole, and, at times, even the Church. Our family of faith must care for sisters and brothers who have been wounded by violence and support them in their loss and search for justice. They deserve our compassion, solidarity, and support spiritual, pastoral, and personal. However, standing with families of victims does not compel us to support the use of the death penalty. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
For many left behind, a death sentence offers the illusion of closure and vindication. No act, even an execution, can bring back a loved one or heal terrible wounds. The pain and loss of one death cannot be wiped away by another death. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
The death penalty arouses deep passions and strong convictions. People of goodwill disagree. In these reflections, we offer neither judgment nor condemnation but instead encourage engagement and dialogue, which we hope may lead to re-examination and conversion. Our goal is not just to proclaim a position, but to persuade Catholics and others to join us in working to end the use of the death penalty. We seek to help build a culture of life in which our nation will no longer try to teach that killing is wrong by killing those who kill. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
[Punishment] ought not go to the extreme of executing the offender except in cases of absolute necessity: in other words, when it would not be possible otherwise to defend society. Today however, as a result of steady improvements in the organization of the penal system, such cases are very rare, if not practically non-existent. John Paul II, The Gospel of Life, [Punishment] ought not go to the extreme of executing the offender except in cases of absolute necessity: in other words, when it would not be possible otherwise to defend society. Today however, as a result of steady improvements in the organization of the penal system, such cases are very rare, if not practically non-existent. —John Paul II, The Gospel of Life (Evangelium Vitae), 1995
If, however, non-lethal means are sufficient to defend and protect peoples safety from the aggressor, authority will limit itself to such means, as these are more in keeping with the concrete conditions of the common good and more in conformity with the dignity of the human person. —The Catechism of the Catholic Church
Others question whether our criminal justice system can indeed protect society. They point to examples of the release of offenders who subsequently commit horrible acts of violence. But in the face of a growing culture of death, every effort should be made to promote a culture of life. Therefore, we believe that the primary response to these situations should not be the use of the death penalty but should instead be the promotion of needed reform of the criminal justice system so that society is more effectively protected. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
Public policies that treat some lives as unworthy of protection, or that are perceived as vengeful, fracture the moral conviction that human life is sacred. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
Defending all human life should unite us as people of life and for life. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
We hope and pray that this campaign will help bring an end to the use of the death penalty. This end may come through an act of Congress or a definitive court decision; more likely the death penalty will be abandoned and wither away through the everyday choices of prosecutors and legislators, judges and jurors, and ordinary citizens who make a commitment to respect human life in every situation. We look forward to the day when our society chooses not to answer violence with violence. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
For the Catholic community, this issue -- like all life issues -- is more than public policy. It involves our faith and the central principle that human life is sacred. Church teaching on the life and dignity of every human person should guide all our decisions about life, including the use of the death penalty. We are called to reflect on what the Lords command, You shall not kill (Ex 20:13) means for us today. —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
In his encyclical The Gospel of Life, Pope John Paul II told us that we have an inescapable responsibility of choosing to be unconditionally pro-life.18 This Catholic campaign brings us together for common action to end the use of the death penalty, to reject a culture of death, and to build a culture of life. It poses an old and fundamental choice: I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live. (Dt 30:19) —USCCB, A Culture of Life and the Penalty of Death
submitted by MilitantCatholic_ to u/MilitantCatholic_ [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 15:12 Phobic101 Why did I start breaking out after using the glycolic acid toner ?

submitted by Phobic101 to TheOrdinarySkincare [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 15:10 lekipalacsinta what are these?

what are these?
i’ve been struggling with these tiny pimples on my forehead and somewhere on my cheeks for about 1 year. im really giving up, theres nothing that helps for me. ive tried salicylic acid, azelaic acid before, didnt worked. i have oily, dehydrated skin my routine is like this:
am revox hyaluronic serum cerave moisturizing cream revox spf
pm cerave foaming cleanser once a week the ordinary aha bha peeling solution but i switched to the ordinary lactic acid cerave moisturizing cream
submitted by lekipalacsinta to Skincare_Addiction [link] [comments]


2023.03.31 15:02 Wise-Ad8875 Am I being dramatic?

I (F18) was spiked last night. I woke up on the street with absolutely no memory of what had happened the night before and I was definitely still on something. I’m currently suffering with come down symptoms (my skin is crawling and I have the shakes) but I started to feel really bad chaffing between my legs and I’ve just come to the bathroom and my bikini line has bad razor burn (it’s blistered slightly) but I haven’t shaved there recently. Is it possible something happened to me? Or is it just a coincidence and I’m being dramatic?
submitted by Wise-Ad8875 to rape [link] [comments]