Cropped bob hair

Girlswithbobcuts

2023.04.05 05:57 ttaywgnik Girlswithbobcuts

A SFW media subreddit of women with Bob Cuts.
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2013.03.23 06:01 Hisotensoku Bob Cuts

A bob cut or bob is a short haircut for women (and occasionally men) in which the hair is typically cut straight around the head at about jaw-level, often with a fringe (or "bangs") at the front.
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2009.12.16 22:53 webchickie Plus Size Support Community

A place for plus-sized people to discuss fashion, body acceptance, dating, haimake-up, fitness, health, fat-shaming and other related matters. We boot any shaming or negativity, sexually harassing comments, or inappropriate remarks.
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2024.05.14 18:55 l_arlecchino Question about costume design for highly stylized characters, especially in SpongeBob

Was a theater kid growing up, but I obviously just starred in whatever musical my teachers were throwing on and never really got into them of my own accord. But I'm watching the SpongeBob musical for inspiration for a movie I'm filming this summer, and was very curious about the costume design in particular - which seems to have been driven by a "character-themed humans" philosophy. No one is "animal-colored". Plankton is just a puppet on the staff of a Plankton-themed supervillain. It's interesting because extremely stylized characters are clearly not an alien idea to theater; a passing Google search returns a bright green Shrek and Rafiki getting the full red/blue treatment. I can understand wanting to humanize your characters - I think I want to do that for my production this summer too, and there are some decisions that go above and beyond humanization that I still understand - like giving SpongeBob a yellow shirt rather than a white one so that he still is a "yellow character" despite having white skin. But there are others that I don't understand, and I guess what I'm trying to ask is if they are decisions that push the design closer to some sort of theater status quo (which obviously wouldn't ring familiar for me). Giving Mr. Krabs boxing gloves instead of crab claws - is that a theater thing? I would argue that, even if you're trying to humanize your characters, bald caps for Patrick and Squidward, rather than dyed hair, and maybe a headpiece for Mr. Krabs, would be better expressions of the characters' identities. But then I wonder how important those identities even really were to the producers - they seem to want to move away from them in small but meaningful ways in order to carve out their own, like by putting purple squares on Patrick's shorts instead of flowers, and making SpBob's pants plaid - or are these just other theater things? Thanks for any insight!
submitted by l_arlecchino to musicals [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 18:28 andreabaker2 Robert Adams was Robert Spiegel, and there is a huge history.

As many of you may have read, there is a case of two missing adopted kids in North Carolina, where remains have been found. The news has reported that their adoptive “mother” is Avantae Deven.
I’m a curious person and started digging up information on Avantae Deven when I first read the story in my news feed and could not believe what I was reading. It seemed like whomever this woman is must have be using an alias; Avantae Deven is not a name like Kim Jones or Mackenzie Smith.
The more I dug, the weirder it seemed to get. I found a property deed to a place in Sedona, Arizona, and figured out that whomever this Avantae person is, she at one point in time had owned a home together with someone named Nicole Adams. So I dug into who Nicole Adams was, and learned that she was the widow of a spiritual leader named Robert Adams. It appeared to me that there would be no way to identify who Avantae really was, unless I could also identify the true identity of Robert Adams.
*******
I've done investigative work for many years, including skip tracing. I can conclusively state that there was absolutely no person actually named Robert Adams born in New York State on January 21, 1928. This is demonstrated by the New York Birth Index. I have combed the census records for 1930, 1940, and 1950, and cross-checked them against multiple databases, and am confident that nobody with the birth name of Robert Adams was born anywhere in the United States on January 21, 1928.
Moreover, there was absolutely no person with the true name of Robert Adams who died anywhere at all in the United States, let alone Sedona, Arizona, on March 2, 1997. This is demonstrated by the Social Security Death Index.
I began this research largely by performing exhaustive searches on the known addresses that are associated with Robert, his wife Leonie (who used to use the alias Nicole), and Avantae Deven (who turns out to be their daughter Michelle who began using the alias Avantae in the mid-1990’s or so). Most of the addresses are PO boxes. Those that are PO boxes are all *private* PO boxes, not PO boxes that one can rent from the United States Postal Service. To me, that spoke volumes. The family were clearly using aliases.
As I explain further below, I eventually determined that “Robert Adams” was Robert Spiegel, born 21 January 1932 in New York. “Nicole Adams” was actually Aileen Beverly Leonie Maxwell, born February 2, 1929, in Jamaica. “Avantae Deven” is actually their daughter, Michelle K. Spiegel, born on October 1, 1960, in California.
One of Robert’s many false stories about Robert’s life that my research has refuted is Robert’s claim that his mother was Jewish and his father was Catholic. That was a lie. Both of his parents were Jewish. It’s also interesting that he claimed that he was “raised Catholic.” There is absolutely nothing to suggest that. His mother always, in New York, lived in Jewish neighborhoods. Moreover, as will be discussed below, his parents had a Jewish wedding. It’s also downright absurd that he would tell people that he was “half Jewish.” If your mother’s Jewish, you are Jewish, pure and simple. Even if Robert’s father had truly been Catholic (which he wasn’t; his name was Samuel Spiegel and he immigrated to America in 1907, lived with his Jewish, Yiddish-speaking cousins, and spoke Yiddish himself), Robert would have been Jewish because the status of being a Jew comes from the mother. Robert’s mother’s name was Fannie (nee Fleisfeder) Spiegel. Fannie’s parents were Itzik Fleisfeder and Esther Libke (nee Rifkin) Fleisfeder. Esther’s parents were Mendel Rifkin and Sarah whose maiden name is lost to time and the disappearance of the shtetls. Robert’s claim to having had a Catholic father was utterly false, but is part and parcel of his ongoing compulsive daily lying about anything and everything.
Here is the story.
*******
Kolomyia, formerly known as Kolomea, is a city currently located in the Western Ukraine.
On January 21, 1892 (the same year that Kolomea tallis1 workers went on strike for better pay and working conditions), Kolomea resident Rachel Katz, wife of Abraham Spiegel, gave birth to a son, who was given the name Schmuel.
On the date that Schmuel Spiegel entered the world, Kolomea was ruled by the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy, and almost half of the city’s residents were Jewish.
In June of 1907, fifteen-year-old Schmuel2 boarded the Zeeland, which sailed from Antwerp, Belgium, arriving at New York Harbor on June 18, 1907. The ship’s manifest states that Schmuel’s father had paid for his transport, and that Schmuel intended to reside with his father, Abe, in Brooklyn. Schmuel was granted entrance, and took up residence with his cousin Charles Fetner, who resided at 353 Myrtle Avenue, Brooklyn, in Apartment A with his wife Jennie and their baby daughter Ettie. The sparse record that exists suggests that although Schmuel’s father was, indeed, named Abraham, Abraham lived and died in Europe, without immigrating to America.
The 1910 census describes Samuel’s cousin Charles as a carpenter, who had been married to housewife Jennie for six years, and a father of three children-- Ettie age four, Nathan age two, and baby Jacob, who was not even a year old. Eighteen-year-old Samuel was identified by profession as a “Foreman Sailmaker” in an industry described as “pocket-books.”
Three and a half years after being granted admission, on a bitterly cold winter day, January 4, 1911, Schmuel (now employed as a pocket-book maker, and having Anglicized his name to Samuel) signed and submitted his declaration to become a United States citizen. He stated, in that declaration, that he was born on January 21, 1892.
By 1915, Samuel had left his cousin’s abode and was residing as a lodger in the home of a widow named Rose Hammer, who lived with her two adolescent sons, Meyer and Louis, at 531 E. 5th Avenue; Samuel was now working as a “driver.”
Two years after the 1915 state census was taken, Samuel had moved back to Myrtle Avenue, but this time at building no. 849. On June 15, 2017, Samuel registered for the draft, and described himself as being a pocketbook maker, working for “A. Shoenfeld,” at 101 Crosby Street, New York. He was single. He stated, in his draft registration, that he was born on January 21, 1892.
*******
A woman named Fruma Fleisfeder was born in Beltz, Bessarabia, sometime between July 1, 1893, and 1901, to Itzik Fleisfeder and Esther Lieba Rifkin. Fruma (not living up to her pious given name) provided different dates and years of birth to different authorities on different occasions, making it impossible at this point in time to know her true position in the birth order of her family. Regardless, Fruma, who began using the name Fanny upon her entrance to the United States, did have three brothers and a sister who also came to America-- Louis Fleisfeder who was born April 10, 1890, Max Irving Fleisfeder who used October 10, 1892 as his birthdate, Hersch (later known as Harry), whose official birthdate was December 15, 1901, and Sylvia who was born in approximately 1906.
On December 1, 1919, Fruma arrived in New York Harbor on the ship La Touraine, declaring her intention, at entry, to become a United States Citizen. The ship’s manifest describes her as five feet five inches tall, with fair hair, blue eyes, and a fair complexion. The ship’s manifest states that she was, at that time, age 24. If that were correct, she would have been born in 1895.
Fruma (then going by Fanny) took up residence with her cousin Ethel (nee Ruchlin) and Ethel’s husband Samuel Steinberg, on 15th Street, Brooklyn. Soon thereafter, Ethel gave birth to her first child, a daughter named Theresa. The 1920 census states that Fanny was Russian, didn’t speak English but, rather, spoke Hebrew, and worked as a milliner in a millinery store. The 1920 census also states that Fanny was age 25, which lines up with her being age 24 in the prior year’s ship manifest.
*******
Sam and Fanny married in Manhattan on January 24, 1925. Their marriage certificate (signed by each of them) identifies Sam as being age 32 (contradicting, by one year, his immigration records which would have placed him at age 33), and identifies Fanny as age 24, the same age that she had claimed to be six years prior, and also contradicting an immigration petition that she would file two decades in the future, which generally placed her birth year at the mid-point of 1893.
If Fanny’s immigration records (which included a petition with her signature on it) were correct, Fanny would also have been age 32 as of her marriage to Samuel, not age 24.
So did Fanny lie in her marriage certificate? Or did she lie in her immigration petition?
The marriage certificate identifies Sam as having been born in Kolomea, Austria, and his father being Abraham, and his mother being Rachel Katz. It identifies Fanny as having been born in Beltz, Russia, to a father named Isaac, and to a mother named Esther Rifkin.
The marriage certificate does not identify Fanny as having any profession, but identifies Sam as being a pocketbook maker.
Sam and Fannie were married at 125 E. 4th Street, Manhattan, a six-story apartment building with retail units on the ground floor that is now an expensive co-op, with three-bedroom units selling for over $900,000. Present-day real estate advertisements alternatively state that the building was built in 1894, 1903, and 1905.
The first name of the rabbi who officiated was Harry. His surname starts with Reid, but the remaining letters of his signature are illegible. Rabbi Harry identified his residence as 232 Broome Street, which, at the time, was a four-story mixed use building that, among other things, housed Chevrah Ahavath Zedek Anshei Jaskinover.
Witnesses to the marriage were Mayer Budmon and Samuel Steinberg.
*******
Sam and Fanny’s existence was documented next in the 1925 New York State census by census. They were living at 205 S. 2nd Street. Samuel was still working as a “pocketbook maker.” Fanny was identified as a “housewife.”
Fanny was identified as age 25. This was in accordance with her age as stated on her marriage certificate, but not in accordance with her immigration documents or the 1920 census.
Sam was identified as being age 28, which conflicted with all prior records.
*******
In 1930, the couple were again enumerated, this time in the Federal census. The enumerator, whose signature appears to be “Max Krahn” (or something like that) stated that he obtained the information on April 16, 1930.
Sam was identified as a “framer” of pocketbooks. He was identified as being 36 years of age, which conflicts by two years with the age that he provided to immigration authorities. Perhaps the enumerator was simply sloppy; Samuel was also incorrectly identified in the 1930 census as having been born in “Poland,” with parents who were both also born in “Poland,” notwithstanding other governmental records having identified him as being Austrian. The language he spoke? “Jewish,” according to the enumerator. Was that to mean Hebrew? Yiddish? Both?
Fannie was identified as age 30 (directly in conflict with the information she supplied in her immigration petition, which bears her signature) and as being “Russian,” with parents born in “Russia.” The 1930 census enumerator incorrectly wrote that her year of immigration was 1921. Fannie, too, was identified by the enumerator as speaking the “Jewish” language.
Although later records reflected that Sam and Fannie had a son named Irving who was born in 1926, Irving was not recorded in the 1930 census. Was he missed by the enumerator? Or was he a later-adopted son?
The couple also had a boarder, identified by the 1930 enumerator as one Esther “Larson,” age 40, born in Russia, and similarly a speaker of the “Jewish” language.
*******
The New York Birth Index identifies a baby boy, Robert Spiegel, as one of many babies having been born in the city on January 21, 1932.
*******
On May 21, 1936, Samuel committed suicide by hanging in the family residence, a tenement apartment located at 1168 Union Avenue, in the Bronx. Although, based upon the date of birth that Samuel used for official governmental purposes he was age 44, the death certificate stated that he was age 43.
Fannie engaged the Gordon Funeral Home to prepare him for burial.
Strangely, although Samuel’s headstone accurately identified him in Hebrew as Schmuel Spiegel, son of Avraham, it inexplicably incorrectly stated that he died at age 40.
Fannie of course knew her husband’s real age; both of them signed the marriage certificate that had Samuel’s correct age listed. Furthermore, Samuel had petitioned for citizenship in 1911, and stated that his date of birth was January 18, 1892.
Why would Fannie commission a headstone with a false age? Perhaps she, like her son, was a compulsive liar. Maybe that’s where Robert got it from.
*******
The 1940 census has Fannie (identified as age 38), Robert (identified as age 8), and Fannie’s son/Robert’s brother, Irving Spiegel, age 13, as living with Fannie’s 72-year-old mother, Esther Fleisfeder, at 1537 Fulton Avenue, in the Bronx. Fannie and Esther were identified as widows. Esther was identified as “U” (unable to work), while Fannie was identified as engaged in housework. No source of income for the family was identified.
No explanation is obvious regarding where Irving was living in the census taken a decade previously. Was he adopted?
There is no “Irving Spiegel” listed in the New York Birth Index for either 1926 or 1927. There is an “Irving Spiegal” listed, who was born April 29, 1926. But he is not Irving Spiegel.
I initially thought that perhaps Irving might be one of the unnamed Baby Boy Spiegels born in New York in 1926 or 1927, and that he left the hospital unnamed because his parents were waiting for his bris before naming him. However, Robert left the hospital with the name Robert. Why wait until the bris to name one child, but not the other?
*******
Slightly less than two years after she was enumerated in the 1940 census, Fannie’s mother Esther died, at home, at 1537 Fulton Avenue. The causes of death were “Coronary Thrombosis, Pulmonary Oedema Nephritis, Hypertension, Arteriosclerosis.” Esther left this world on February 6, 1942, the same day that the W. L. Steed was torpedoed, shelled and sunk less than a hundred nautical miles east of the mouth of Delaware River by a German submarine.
She was buried at Mount Moriah Cemetery in Fairview, New Jersey, the same cemetery where her son-in-law Samuel was interred.
*******
On November 12, 1943, Fannie, now residing at 1985 Bathgate Avenue, in the Bronx, petitioned for citizenship. She claimed, in that document bearing her signature, to be fifty years of age, meaning that if she was telling the truth, she would have been born in approximately 1893.
*******
On January 19, 1948, Robert (having assumed a false date of birth, that being January 18, 1931), enlisted in the New York National Guard. On paper, he had turned age 17 the day before his enlistment. In reality, he would be turning age 16 two days after his enlistment.
On December 9, 1949, Robert was discharged from the national guard, apparently for having been AWOL.
The discharge document identifies his address as being 1985 Bathgate Avenue, New York City.
*******
The 1950 census places Robert again at 1985 Bathgate Avenue, New York City. It correctly identifies him as age 18, and states that he worked as a shipping clerk for a newspaper company.
According to the 1950 census, Robert resided at the Bathgate Avenue address with his mother Fannie, who was purportedly still age 50 (seven years after she had previously claimed to immigration authorities to be age 50), and Robert’s brother Irving, age 24.
Irving was listed as unemployed and moreover, according to the census record, had not worked for the prior year. Fannie was employed full-time as a milliner in a hat factory.
*******
Military records reflect that Irving J. Spiegel, born in 1926 and a resident of 1985 Bathgate Avenue, who had completed two years of high school education, had flown bomber planes over Germany during the war. In his military documents, Irving described himself as single, with two dependents.
*******
On February 2, 1929, a baby girl given the name Aileen Beverly Leone Maxwell was born in Lucea, Hanover, Jamaica, to William Maxwell and Daisy (nee Tibbits) Maxwell. Her birth was registered by her parents.
*******
In 1954, Robert Spiegel and Aileen Maxwell were married in New York City. Their marriage license was given License No. 10284.
*******
The following year, the Kingston, Jamaica, Gleaner reported on June 6, 1955:
Miss Leonie Maxwell, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Maxwell, was married recently in New York City to Mr. Robert Spiegel of the U.S.A. Both the bride and groom are students at the New York Institute of Dietetics. The bride left the island nearly two years ago for New York. Her wedding gown was chantilly lace and nylon tulle. The bodice was fashioned with a wide, scalloped neckline and elbow-length sleeves. Her three tier skirt of chantilly lace was over pleated nylon tulle. Her fingertip-length veil was adorned with pearls.
*******
If the claim regarding the couple studying at the New York Institute of Dietetics was even true, their studies at this institution didn’t last long. In May of 1956, a number of advertisements bearing Robert’s photograph appeared in the Kingston, Jamaica Gleaner. The advertisements described Robert as a psychologist, author, lecturer, and “practitioner in auto suggestion,” and identified him as “Dr. J. Robert Spiegel.” Readers were invited to come meet Robert on May 21, 1956, at Record Plaza, where he would be autographing his “latest” “world-wide” 33 and 1/3 RPM record, “How to Stop Smoking in 7 days by Auto-Suggestion.”
*******
On May 1, 1959, three residents of 1985 Bathgate Avenue, Bronx, New York, came through customs, having returned from a trip to Jamaica. They identified themselves as “Robert D. Spiegel” born in New York (in addition to giving himself a false middle initial, Robert neglected to complete the I-94-A fully, specifically by leaving his birthdate blank), “Leonie A. Spiegel” born in Jamaica on February 2, 1929, and their minor daughter, and “Sharon S. Spiegel,” born in New York. Someone also neglected to fully complete Sharon’s I-94-A, specifically by leaving her birthdate blank.
*******
Leonie had taken Sharon to Jamaica two years earlier. There are no publicly available records pertaining to their outbound transport from the United States to Jamaica. There is, however, a record pertaining to their return to the United States. That publicly available record does not provide their address, but Sharon is identified as weighing 1 stone 5 pounds (a total of 19 pounds), and Leonie is identified as weighing six stone 5 pounds (89 pounds). Interestingly, Leonie used the name “Aileen Spiegel,” and the records assert that Aileen has no middle initial. Aileen was / is her true legal first name, but it is a lie to say that she has no middle initial.
*******
Almost two years later, on January 5, 1958, the Kingston, Jamaica Gleaner reported:
Staying at the Tamarind Hotel are Mr. and Mrs. Bob Spiegel and daughter Sharon of Miami, Florida. Mrs. Spiegel is the former Leonie Maxwell, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Maxwell of Lucea and has been in the United States for several years. A welcome party in their honour was given last Saturday night by Messers. Horrace, Ray, and Dennis Maxwell, brothers of Mrs. Spiegel. It was a very enjoyable affair.
*******
In 1963, roughly five years after their 1958 visit to Jamaica, Leonie petitioned for naturalization, in Louisiana. Although I am in possession of the index showing that she petitioned in 1963, I do not possess the petition itself. However, the fact that she petitioned for naturalization in Louisiana demonstrates that that at least she was residing in Louisiana at the time. Since she stated that she didn’t leave Robert’s side for over 40 years, presumably Robert, young Sharon, and also baby Michelle were living in Louisiana at that time.
*******
People who knew Robert personally relate that he stated that Leonie was a Cayman Island heiress. She wasn’t. Not only was she not born in the Cayman Islands, Leonie’s father’s estate was litigated (with the judge ruling against her) long before Robert started telling people that his wife was a Cayman Islands heiress.
Leonie’s father did leave an estate, but not to her. On November 9, 1967, the Gleaner reported that the Supreme Court had upheld the will of the late William Josiah Maxwell, the father of Horrace, Ray, Dennis, and Leonie, and the husband of Daisy Maxwell, who had contended that William’s signature was a forgery and that the person to whom his estate had been bequeathed had exercised undue influence. The court disagreed. The article reported:
The estate, which one of the executors described as “a sizeable one,” included 112 acres of land at Paradise and three houses at Lucea, Hanover.
*******
Robert apparently wasn’t banking on Leonie’s inheritance in any event. In May of 1966, advertisements appeared in the Houston Chronicle with Robert’s photo on them, selling a record that would purportedly assist people in stopping smoking in seven days. He identified himself as “Dr. J. Robert Spiegel.”
*******
On page 55 of the November 15, 1969, San Antonio, Texas Express and News, was an advertisement stating:
SCIENCE OF THE MIND
Dr. J. Robert Spiegel of Houston, director and founder of the Science of the Mind Foundation there, is conducting Sunday evening meetings at 7:30 p.m. in the Sheraton Inn, 1400 Austin Hwy.
*******
On page 4 of the July 10, 1970 edition of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram was a photograph of Robert, with a brief local news blurb:
GUEST – Dr. J Robert Spiegel of Houston, Science of Mind Foundation director, will speak at the 10:45 a.m. service tomorrow in First Church of Religious Science, 2001 6th Ave. His subject is “What Religious Science Teaches.”
*******
On page 8 of the June 18, 1970 edition of the Houston Daily Cougar was this advertisement:
HOME OF UNIVERSAL LIFE
Teaching Aquarian Meditation For The New Age
Meets Every Sunday, 11:00 A.M. At The World Trade Center Auditorium
Houston, Texas
DR. J. ROBERT SPIEGEL (BRAHMADANDA) DIRECTOR - FOUNDER
Aquarian Meditation Initiation for the first time offered through correspondence. For those sincere students wishing to bypass evolution and enter the 5th Kingdom. Initiation includes meditation technique, Mantra, how to "live” 24 hours a day, and much more. Write for application today:
P.O. Box 53328 Houston, Texas 052
*******
From the Galveston Daily News, May 02, 1971, Pg. 31:
AQUARIAN MEDITATION SOCIETY PRESENTS DR. J. ROBERT SPIEGEL AN AUTHOR, LECTURER, TEACHER OF YOGA & SELF DEVELOPMENT WILL SPEAK ON MAN, MIND & THE UNIVERSE WEDNESDAY, MAY 5th AT 7:30 P.M. IN THE RECREATION CENTER HARRIS COUNTY PARK, NASA RD. # 1 ALL WELCOME — DONATION $1.50
*******
The 1972 Spiritual Community Guide lists Robert twice, in the San Diego area. First, on page 117, using his alias “J. Robert Spiegel”:
THE TEMPLE OF METAPHYSICAL ABUNDANCE. J. Robert Spiegel, 1118 Torrey Pines Rd., 92037. Teaches yoga, nutrition, ESP, metaphysics, psychology, mind control
Second, on page 124, in which he, as one might have predicted, was masquerading as some sort of medical man or scholar:
"AQUARIAN MEDITATION SOCIETY, U. S. Grant Hotel, Attn: Dr. Robert Spiegel, 453-7588"
*******
Also in 1972, Volume 25 of San Diego Magazine published in November advertised gift certificates for the “Astrology Research Center.” “Give your loved one the gift of love. Only $50” said the advertisement. Where was this entity located? At 1118 Torrey Pines Road, the same address as Robert’s Temple of Metaphysical Abundance. The advertisement purported that person identified as “Lil Canaan” was the director. The telephone number was 459-6400.
In 2013, the San Diego Union Tribune published the obituary for Lillian Mulonas, who founded the La Jolla “Astrology Research Center.” At this point in time, unless Robert Adams’ only surviving daughter, Michelle/ Prentiss/ Avantae knows the answer and talks, we will not know what relationship, if any, existed between Robert’s Temple of Metaphysical Abundance and Lilian’s Astrology Research Center, both of which were located at 1118 Torrey Pines Road in 1972.
*******
From the July 12, 1973, San Diego Reader:
BRAHMADANDA FOUNDATION
Teachings of the Cosmic Way” meets Sundays, 11:00 a.m., U.S. Grant Hotel, Crystal Room. Free admission, refreshments served. Call 453-7588 for more information.
*******
On page 51 of the June 29, 1974 edition of Phoenix’s Arizona Republic was the following advertisement:
Speaker from San Diego
Dr. J. Robert Spiegel from San Diego, a traveler and lecturer, will speak at 8 p.m., Friday in Universal Series Center, 4340 N. Seventh Ave., on the topic “Science of Being.”
He is the founder of the “Aquarian Meditation Society” in Jamaica and is founder and publisher of “Equinox,” a philosophical newspaper.
*******
The family (Adams or Spiegel, however one might want to refer to them) have resided in (that I know of) New York, Miami, Jamaica, Louisiana, La Jolla, Los Angeles, Houston, New Mexico, Hawaii, Las Vegas, Scottsdale, Sedona, and a number of cities in North Carolina.
*******
In at least the 1990’s, before he left for Sedona, Robert Adams used the address PO Box 7210, Jordan Avenue, D-30, Canoga Park, CA. He used that address on correspondence he wrote, and on at least one published document. Who else used that address? The data aggregators show that this address was also used by a Michelle K. Spiegel, and a person going by the name Leonie Maxwell. Michelle and Leonie also used other addresses associated with Robert, those being 1815 Willis Avenue Panorama City, and 21551 Burbank Boulevard, Woodland Hills.
*******
The California Birth Index shows that Michelle K. Spiegel was born on October 1, 1960, in Los Angeles County, to a mother with the maiden name Maxwell.
*******
In later life, Michelle used the addresses above that are associated with Robert and Leonie, as well as an address of 12004 Vanowen Street #14, North Hollywood. This is the same address at which Denniston Keith Maxwell, one of Leonie’s younger brothers, resided at, after his immigration to the United States. Denniston was one of Michelle’s uncles.
In a recent Facebook posting, Michelle/Avantae stated: “Never knew anything personal about said uncles, etc. Never asked, never cared.” Really? She shared an address with an uncle? Her uncle lived within a few minutes’ drive from her parents, and Michelle/Avantae never knew anything about him?
As an aside, Michelle/Avantae alleged (or admitted) that she “never cared” about anything personal regarding her uncles. If that is true, what does that tell us about Michelle/Avantae’s fundamental character? Antisocial? Psychopathic? Narcissistic in the extreme?
*******
On August 2, 1996, Michelle, going by the name Avantae E. Deven, married Tyson Ruben Alvarez in Las Vegas. The two had addresses in common in Arizona, Nevada, and Montana.
*******
Robert “Adams” died on or about March 2, 1997, in Sedona, Arizona.
Shortly after that, in the spring of 1997, “Nicole Adams” and “Avantae Deven” (both aliases; the correct legal names are Aileen Beverly Leonie Spiegel and Michelle K. Spiegel) purchased a home together in Sedona, on Navahopi Road. Shortly after the purchase, “Nicole” quit-claimed her portion to “Avantae.”
On July 17, 2001, Tyson, still married to “Avantae,” quit-claimed any interest in the Navahopi property to “Avantae,” and had the county recorder send the deed to “Avantae” in care of the Infinity Institute, at that time located at 9101 W. Sahara Ave. Suite 105 C29 (in other words, a private post box), in Las Vegas.
Avantae divorced Tyson in 2006. She had, by then, moved to North Carolina. She “served” Tyson via publication summons, claiming that she was unable to find him, despite his information being on multiple data aggregators.
You can go to various Facebook groups, and other sources, to pull up the documents that people have uncovered showing who is associated with the "Infinity Institute," and in what fashion, and also the addresses that they have used over the years.
In any event, this is the information regarding Robert that I think that people need to be aware of.
Why turn to a known liar and con man for spiritual guidance?
1A tallis is a prayer shawl.
2The ship’s manifest states that he was age 14, which conflicts by one year with what Samuel identified as his date of birth. These errors are not uncommon; his fare could have been purchased when he was age 14 and the records not updated.
submitted by andreabaker2 to RobertAdams [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 18:08 Mophandel Archaeotherium, the King of the White River Badlands

Archaeotherium, the King of the White River Badlands
Art by Bob Nicholls
Nowadays, when we envision the words “prey,” among modern mammalian fauna, few taxa come to mind as quickly as the hoofed mammals, better known as the ungulates. Indeed, for the better part of their entire evolutionary history, the ungulates have become entirely indistinguishable from the term “prey.” Across their two major modern branches, the artiodactyls (the “even-toed ungulates,” such as bovids, pigs, deer, hippos and giraffes) and the perissodactyls (the “odd-toed ungulates,” including horses, rhinos and tapir), the ungulates too have created an empire spanning nearly every continent, establishing themselves as the the dominant herbivores throughout their entire range. However, as a price for such success, their lot as herbivores have forced them into an unenviable position: being the food for the predators. Indeed, throughout the diets of most modern predators, ungulates make up the majority, if not the entirety, of their diet, becoming their counterparts in this evolutionary dance of theirs. They have become the lamb to their wolf, the zebra to their lion, the stag to their tiger. If there is a predator in need of lunch, chances are that there is an ungulate there to provide it. Of course, such a dynamic is not necessarily a recent innovation. For the last 15-20 million years, across much of the world, both new and old, the ungulates have served as prey for these predators through it all. Over the course of whole epochs, these two groups have played into these roles for millions of years, coevolving with each other in an eons-long game of cat-and-mouse. The shoes they fill are not new, but have existed for ages, and within their niches they have cultivated their roles to perfection. Indeed, with such a tenured history, it seems hardly surprising the ungulates are wholly inseparable from the terms “prey,” itself.
However, while this is the case now, as it has been for the last 15-20 million years, go back far enough, and we see that this dynamic is not as set in stone as we would think. Indeed, back during the Eocene and Oligocene, during the very earliest days of age of mammals, things were very different for the ungulates. While today they are considered little more than food for modern predators, during these olden days, the ungulates weren’t quite so benign. In fact, far from being fodder for top predators, the ungulates had turned the tables, instead becoming top predators themselves. Indeed, though nearly unheard of today, throughout much of the Eocene and Oligocene, carnivorous ungulates thrived in abundance, developing specializations for catching large prey and establishing themselves as top predators that competed alongside the more traditional carnivores, and even dominating them in some instances. Given such success, it’s no wonder that multiple such clades had arisen during this time. Such predators included the arctocyonids, a lineage of (ironically) hoof-less ungulates with large jaws and sharp teeth for capturing large prey. There were also the mesonychians, a lineage of dog-like ungulates with massive skulls and jaws that allowed them to reign as the top predator across much of the Eocene.
However, among these various lineages, one stands stands out among the rest, by far. Arising during the Eocene, this lineage, though superficially resembling modern pigs, hailed from one an ancient lineage of artiodactyls far removed from swine or most other ungulates in general, with few close relatives alive today. Through perhaps not the most predatory of the bunch, it was among the most formidable, as their superficially pig-like appearance came with giant predatory jaws and teeth unlike anything from the modern era. And of course, as if all of that wasn’t enough, this lineage also went on to earn arguably one of the most badass nicknames of any lineage of mammals, period. These predators, of course, were the entelodonts, a.k.a the “hell-pigs.” More so than any other predatory ungulate lineage, these formidable ungulates were the ones to turn the current paradigm upside down, becoming some of the largest and most dominant carnivores in their landscape, even with (and often in spite of) the presence of more traditional predators. Through impressive size, fearsome teeth and sheer tenacity, these animals became the top dogs of their time, ruling as behemoth-kings of their Paleogene kingdoms, domineering all comers, and throughout the ranks, one entelodont in particular demonstrated such dominance the best. Though not the largest or most powerful of their kind, it is one of the most iconic, being among the most well-known members of its lineage to date. Moreover, this enteledont also has some of the most complete life histories ever seen out of this clade, with its brutality and predatory prowess being displayed in the fossil record in a way seen in no other member of its kind. More than anything else, however, it was this predator that best turned the notion of “ungulates being prey” on its head, living in an environment that bore some of the largest carnivoran hypercarnivores to date and still reigning as the undisputed top predator of its domain. This fearsome beast was none other than Archaeotherium, icon of the entelodonts, terror of the Oligocene American west and undisputed king of the White River badlands.
The rise of Archaeotherium (and of entelodonts in general) is closely tied to the ascendancy of carnivorous ungulates as a whole, one of the earliest evolutionary success stories of the entire Cenozoic. Having become their own derived clade since the late Cretaceous, the ungulates were remarkably successful during the early Paleogene, as they were among the first mammalian clades to reach large sizes during those early days after the non-avian dinosaurs had gone extinct. As such, it was with incredible swiftness that, as the Paleogene progressed, the ungulates swooped upon the various niches left empty by the K-Pg mass extinction that killed the dinosaurs. This of course included the herbivorous niches we would know them for today, but this also included other, much more carnivore roles. Indeed, early on during the Paleogene, it was the ungulates that first seized the roles of large mammalian predators, becoming some the earliest large mammalian carnivores to ever live, well before even the carnivorans. Such predators included the arctocyonids, a lineage of vaguely dog-like, hoof-less ungulates with robust jaws and sharpened teeth that acted as some of earliest large carnivores of the Paleocene, with genera such as Arctocyon mumak getting up to the size of big cats. Even more prolific were the mesonychids. More so than what pretty much any other lineage of predator, it was the mesonychids that would stand out as the earliest dominant predators of the early Cenozoic. Growing up to the size of bears and with enormous, bone-crushing jaws, the mesonychids were among the most powerful and successful predators on the market at that time, with a near-global range and being capable of subjugating just about any other predator in their environments. Indeed, they, along with other carnivorous ungulates (as well as ungulates in general), were experiencing a golden age during this time, easily being the most prolific predators of the age. Given such prevalence, it should be no surprise that there would be yet another lineage of predatory ungulates would throw their hat into the ring, and by early Eocene, that contender would none other than the entelodonts.
The very first entelodonts had arisen from artiodactyl ancestors during the Eocene epoch, at a time when artiodactyls were far more diverse and bizarre than they are now. Through today known from their modern herbivorous representatives such as bovines, deer, and antelope, during the Paleocene and Eocene, the artiodacyls, as with most ungulates of that time, were stronger and far more predaceous, particularly when it came to one such clade of artiodactyls, the cetacodontamorphs. Only known today from hippos and another group of artiodactyls (one which will become relevant later), the cetacodantomorphs emerged out of Asia around 55 million years ago, at around the same time that artiodactyls themselves had made their debut. These animals included the first truly predatory artiodactyls, with many of them possessing large skulls with powerful jaws and sharp, predatory teeth. Among their ranks included animals as puny as Indohyus, a piscivorous artiodactyl the size of a cat, to as formidable as Andrewsarchus, a giant, bison-sized predator often touted as one of the largest predatory mammals to ever live. Given such a predatory disposition, it wouldn’t be long until this clade produced a lineage of truly diverse, truly successful predators, and by around 40 million years ago, that is exactly what they did, as it was at that time that the entelodonts themselves first emerged. From their Asian homeland, the entelodonts spread across the world, spreading through not only most of Eurasia but also colonizing North America as well, with genera such as Brachyhyops being found across both continents. Here, in this North American frontier, the entelodonts began to diversify further, turning into their most successful and formidable forms yet, and it was around the late Eocene and early Oligocene that Archaeotherium itself had entered the scene.
Just from a passing glance at Archaeotherium, it is clear how exactly it (as well as the other entelodonts) earned the nickname of “hell-pigs.” It was a bruiser for starters; its body bore a robust, pig-like physique, with prominent neural spines and their associated musculature forming a hump around the shoulder region, similar to the hump of a bison. With such a bulky physique came with it impressive size; the average A. mortoni had a head-body length of roughly 1.6-2.0 m (5.3-6.6 ft), a shoulder height of 1.2 m (4 ft) and a body mass of around 180 kg (396 lb) in weight (Boardman & Secord, 2013; Joeckel, 1990). At such sizes, an adult Archaeotherium the size of a large male black bear. However, they had the potential to get even bigger. While most Archaeotherium specimens were around the size described above, a select few specimens, labeled under the synonymous genus “Megachoerus,” are found to be much larger, with skulls getting up to 66% longer than average A. mortoni specimens (Foss, 2001; Joeckel, 1990). At such sizes and using isometric scaling, such massive Archaeotherium specimens would attained body lengths over 2.5 m (8.2 ft) and would have reached weighs well over 500 kg (1100 lb), or as big as a mature male polar bear. Indeed, at such sizes, it is already abundantly evident that Archaeotherium is a force to be recorded with.
However, there was more to these formidable animals than sheer size alone. Behind all that bulk was an astoundingly swift and graceful predator, especially in terms of locomotion. Indeed, the hoofed feet of Archaeotherium, along with other entelodonts, sported several adaptations that gave it incredible locomotive efficiency, essentially turning it into a speed demon of the badlands. Such adaptations include longer distal leg elements (e.g. the radius and tibia) than their proximal counterparts (e.g. the humerus and femur), fusion of the radius and ulna for increased running efficiency, the loss of the clavicle (collar-bone) to allow for greater leg length, the loss of the acromion to enhance leg movement along the fore-and-aft plane, the loss of digits to reduce the mass of the forelimb, the fusion of the ectocuneiform and the mesocuneiform wrist-bones, among many other such traits (Theodore, 1996) . Perhaps most significant of these adaptations is the evolution of the “double-pulley astragalus (ankle-bone),” a specialized modification of the ankle that, while restricting rotation and side-to-side movement at the ankle-joint, allows for greater rotation in the fore-and-aft direction, thus allowing for more more powerful propulsion from the limbs, faster extension and retraction of the limbs and overall greater locomotive efficiency (Foss, 2001). Of course, such a trait was not only found in entelodonts but in artiodactyls as a whole, likely being a response to predatory pressures from incumbent predatory clades arising at the same time as the artiodactyls (Foss, 2001). However, in the case of the entelodonts, such adaptations were not used for merely escaping predators. Rather, they were used to for another, much more lethal effect…
Such notions are further reinforced by the entelodonts most formidable aspect, none either than their fearsome jaws, and in this respect, Archaeotherium excelled. Both for its size and in general, the head of Archaeotherium was massive, measuring 40-50 cm (1.3-1.6 ft) in length among average A. mortoni specimens, to up to 78 cm (~2.6 ft) in the larger “Megachoerus” specimens (Joeckel, 1990). Such massive skulls were supported and supplemented by equally massive neck muscles and ligaments, which attached to massive neural spines on the anterior thoracic vertebrae akin to a bisons hump as well as to the sternum, allowing Archaeotherium to keep its head aloft despite the skulls massive size (Effinger, 1998). Of course, with such a massive skull, it should come as no surprise that such skulls housed exceptionally formidable jaws as well, and indeed, the bite of Archaeotherium was an especially deadly one. Its zygomatic arches (cheek-bones) and its temporal fossa were enlarged and expanded, indicative of massive temporalis muscles that afforded Archaeotherium astoundingly powerful bites (Joeckel, 1990). This is further augmented by Archaeotherium’s massive jugal flanges (bony projections of the cheek), which supported powerful masseter muscles which enhanced chewing and mastication, as well as an enlarged postorbital bar that reinforced the skull against torsional stresses (Foss, 2001). Last but not least, powerful jaws are supplemented by an enlarged gape, facilitated by a low coronoid process and enlarged posterior mandibular tubercles (bony projections originating from the lower jaw), which provided an insertion site for sternum-to-mandible jaw abduction muscles, allowing for a more forceful opening of the jaw (Foss, 2001). All together, such traits suggest a massive and incredibly fearsome bite, perhaps the most formidable of any animal in its environment.
Of course, none of such traits are especially indicative of a predatory lifestyle. Indeed, many modern non-predatory ungulates, like hippos, pigs and peccaries, also possess large, formidable skulls and jaws. However, in peeling back the layers, it is found there was more to the skull of Archaeotherium that lies in store. Indeed, when inspecting the animal closely, a unique mosaic of features is revealed; traits that make it out to be much more lethal than the average artiodactyl. On one hand, Archaeotherium possessed many traits similar to those of herbivores animals, as is expected of ungulates. For instance, its jaw musculature that allowed the lower jaw of Archaeotherium a full side-to-side chewing motion as in herbivores (whereas most carnivores can only move their lower jaw up and down)(Effinger, 1998). On the other hand, Archaeotherium wielded many other traits far more lethal in their morphology, less akin to a herbivore and far more akin to a bonafide predator. For instance, the aforementioned enlarged gape of Archaeotherium is a bizarre trait on a supposed herbivore, as such animals do not need large gapes to eat vegetation and thus have smaller, more restricted gapes. Conversely, many predatory lineages have comparatively large gapes, as larger gapes allow for the the jaws to grab on to more effectively larger objects, namely large prey animals (Joeckel, 1990).
Such a juxtaposition, however, is most evident when discussing the real killing instruments of Archaeotherium — the teeth. More so than any facet of this animal, the teeth of Archaeotherium are the real stars of the show, showing both how alike it was compared to its herbivores counterparts and more importantly, how it couldn’t be more different. For instance, the molars of Archaeotherium were quite similar to modern herbivores ungulates, in that they were robust, bunodont, and were designed for crushing and grinding, similar in form and function to modern ungulates like peccaries (Joeckel, 1990). However, while the molars give the impression that Archaeotherium was a herbivore, the other teeth tell a very different story. The incisors, for example, were enlarged, sharpened, and fully interlocked (as opposed to the flat-topped incisors seen in herbivores ungulates), creating an incisor array that was seemingly ill-suited for cropping vegetation and much more adept at for gripping, puncturing and cutting (Joeckel, 1990). Even more formidable were the canines. Like the modern pigs from which entelodonts derived their nicknames, the canines of Archaeotherium were sharp and enlarged to form prominent tusk-like teeth, but unlike pigs, they were rounded in cross-section (similar to modern carnivores like big cats, indicating more durable canines that can absorb and resist torsional forces, such as those from struggling prey) and were serrated to form a distinct cutting edge (Effinger, 1998; Joeckel, 1990; Ruff & Van Valkenburgh, 1987). These canines, along with the incisors, interlock to stabilize the jaws while biting and dismantling in a carnivore-like fashion. More strikingly, the canines also seem to act as “occlusal guides,” wherein the canines help align the movement and position of the rear teeth as they come together, allowing for a more efficient shearing action by the rear teeth. This function is seen most prevalently modern carnivorous mammals, and is evidenced by the canine tooth-wear, which is also analogous to modern predators like bears and canids (Joeckel, 1990). Indeed, going off such teeth alone, it is clear that Archaeotherium is far more predatory than expected of an ungulate. However, the real stars of the show, the teeth that truly betray the predatory nature of these ungulates, are the premolars. Perhaps the most carnivore-like teeth in the entelodont’s entire tooth row, the premolars of Archaeotherium, particularly the anterior premolars, are laterally compressed, somewhat conical in shape, and are weakly serrated to bear a cutting edge, giving them a somewhat carnivorous form and function of shearing and slicing (Effinger, 1998). Most strikingly of all, the premolars of Archaeotherium bear unique features similar not to modern herbivores, but to durophagous carnivores like hyenas, particularly apical wear patterns, highly thickened enamel, “zigzag-shaped” enamel prism layers (Hunter-Schraeger bands) on the premolars which is also seen in osteophagous animals like hyenas, and an interlocking premolar interface wherein linear objects (such as bones) inserted into jaws from the side would be pinned between the premolars and crushed (Foss, 2001). Taken together, these features do not suggest a diet of grass or vegetation like other ungulates. Rather, they suggest a far more violent diet, one including flesh as well as hard, durable foods, particularly bone. All in all, the evidence is clear. Archaeotherium and other entelodonts, unlike the rest of their artiodactyl kin, were not the passive herbivores as we envision ungulates today. Rather, they were willing, unrepentant meat-eaters that had a taste for flesh as well as foliage.
Of course, even with such lines of evidence, its hard to conclude that Archaeotherium was a true predator. After all, its wide gape and durophagous teeth could have just as easily been used for scavenging or even to eat tough plant matter such as seeds or nuts, as in peccaries and pigs, which themselves share many of the same adaptations as Archaeotherium, include the more carnivorous ones (e.g. the wide gape, using the canines as an occlusal guide, etc.). How exactly do we know that these things were veritable predators and not pretenders to the title. To this end, there is yet one last piece of evidence, one that puts on full display the predatory prowess of Archaeotheriumevidence of a kill itself. Found within oligocene-aged sediment in what is now Wyoming, a collection of various fossil remains was found, each belonging to the ancient sheep-sized camel Poebrotherium, with many of the skeletal remains being disarticulated and even missing whole hindlimbs or even entire rear halves of their body. Tellingly, many of the remains bear extensive bite marks and puncture wounds across their surface. Upon close examination, the spacing and size of the punctures leave only one culprit: Archaeotherium. Of course, such an event could still have been scavenging; the entelodonts were consuming the remains of already dead, decomposed camels, explaining the bite marks. What was far more telling, however, was where the bite marks were found. In addition bite marks being found on the torso and lumbar regions of the camels, various puncture wounds were found on the skull and neck, which were otherwise uneaten. Scavengers rarely feast on the head to begin with; there is very little worthwhile meat on it besides the brain, cheek-muscles and eyes, and even if they did feed on the skull and neck, they would still eat it wholesale, not merely bite it and then leave it otherwise untouched. Indeed, it was clear that this was no mere scavenging event. Rather than merely consuming these camels, Archaeotherium was actively preying upon and killing them, dispatching them via a crushing bite to the skull or neck before dismembering and even bisecting the hapless camels with their powerful jaws to preferentially feast on their hindquarters (likely by swallowing the hindquarters whole, as the pelvis of Poebrotherium was coincidentally the perfect width for Archaeotherium to devour whole), eventually discarding the leftovers in meat caches for later consumption (Sundell, 1999). With this finding, such a feat of brutality leaves no doubt in ones mind as to what the true nature of Archaeotherium was. This was no herbivore, nor was it a simple scavenger. This was an active, rapacious predator, the most powerful in its entire ecosystem.
Indeed, with such brutal evidence of predation frozen in time, combined with various dental, cranial, and post cranial adaptations of this formidable animal, it’s possible to paint a picture of how this formidable creature lived. Though an omnivore by trade, willing and able to feast on plant matter such as grass, roots and tubers, Archaeotherium was also a wanton predator that took just about any prey it wanted. Upon detecting its prey, it approached its vicim from ambush before launching itself at blazing speed. From there, its cursorial, hoofed legs, used by other ungulates for escape predation, were here employed to capture prey, carrying it at great speeds as it caught up to its quarry. Having closed the distance with its target, it was then that the entelodont brought its jaws to bear, grabbing hold of the victim with powerful jaws and gripping teeth to bring it to a screeching halt. If the victim is lucky, Archaeotherium will then kill it quickly with a crushing bite to the skull or neck, puncturing the brain or spinal cord and killing its target instantly. If not, the victim is eaten alive, torn apart while it’s still kicking, as modern boars will do today. In any case, incapacitated prey are subsequently dismantled, with the entelodont using its entire head and heavily-muscled necks to bite into and pull apart its victim in devastating “puncture-and pull’ bites (Foss, 2001). Prey would then finally be consumed starting at the hindquarters, with not even the bones of its prey being spared. Such brutality, though far from clean, drove home a singular truth: that during this time, ungulates were not just prey, that they were not the mere “predator-fodder” we know them as today. rather, they themselves were the predators themselves, dominating as superb hunters within their domain and even suppressing clades we know as predators today, least of all the carnivorans. Indeed, during this point in time, the age of the carnivorous ungulates had hit their stride, and more specifically, the age of entelodonts had begun.
Of course, more so than any other entelodont, Archaeotherium took to this new age with gusto. Archaeotherium lived from 35-28 million years ago during the late Eocene and early Oligocene in a locality known today as the White River Badlands, a fossil locality nestled along the Great Plains and Rocky Mountains. Though a chalky, barren landscape today, during the time of Archaeotherium, the White River Badlands was a swamp-like floodplain crisscrossed with rivers and interspersed with by a mosaic of forests concentrated around waterways, open woodlands and open plains. As with most ecosystems with such a lush disposition, this locale teemed with life, with ancient hornless rhinos, small horse-like hyracodonts and early camels roaming the open habitats while giant brontotheres, small early horses and strange, sheep-like ungulates called merycoidodonts (also known as “oreodonts”) dwelled within the dense forests. Within this locale, Archaeotherium stalked the open woodlands and riparian forests of its domain. Here, it acted as a dominant predator and scavenger across is territory, filling a niche similar to modern grizzly bears but far more predatory. Among its preferred food items would be plant matter such as roots, foliage and nuts, but also meat in the form of carrion or freshly caught prey. In this respect, smaller ungulates such as the fleet-footed camel Poebrotherium, a known prey item of Archaeotherium, would have made a for choice prey, as its small size would make it easy for Archaeotherium to dispatch with its powerful jaws, while the entelodonts swift legs gave it the speed necessary to keep pace with its agile prey.
However, the entelodont didn’t have such a feast all to itself. Just as the badlands teemed with herbivores, so too did it teem with rival predators. Among their ranks included fearsome predators such as Hyaenodon, a powerful, vaguely dog-like predator up to the size of wolves (as in H. horridus) or even lions (as in the Eocene-aged H. megaloides, which was replaced by H. horridus during the Oligocene). Armed with a massive head, fierce jaws and a set of knife-like teeth that could cut down even large prey in seconds, these were some of the most formidable predators on the landscape. There were also the nimravids, cat-like carnivorans that bore saber-teeth to kill large prey in seconds, and included the likes of the lynx-sized Dinictis, the leopard-sized Hoplophoneus and even the jaguar-sized Eusmilus. Furthermore, there were amphicyonids, better known as the bear-dogs. Though known from much larger forms later on in their existence, during the late Eocene and Oligocene, they were much smaller and acted as the “canid-analogues” of the ecosystem, filling a role similar to wolves or coyotes. Last but not least, there were the bathornithid birds, huge cariamiform birds related to modern seriemas but much larger, which filled a niche similar to modern seriemas or secretary birds, albeit on a much larger scale. Given such competition, it would seem that Archaeotherium would have its hands full. However, things are not as they appear. For starters, habitat differences would mitigate high amounts of competition, as both Hyaenodon and the various nimravids occupy more specialized ecological roles (being a plains-specialist and forest-specialist, respectively) than did Archaeotherium, providing a buffer to stave off competition: More importantly, however, none of the aforementioned predators were simply big enough to take Archaeotherium on. During the roughly 7 million years existence of Archaeotherium, the only carnivore that matched it in size was H. megaloides, and even that would have an only applied to average A. mortoni individuals, not to the much larger, bison-sized “Megachoerus” individuals. The next largest predator at that point would be the jaguars-sized Eusmilus (specifically E. adelos) which would have only been a bit more than half the size of even an average A. mortoni. Besides that, virtually every other predator on the landscape was simply outclassed by the much larger entelodont in terms of size and brute strength. As such, within its domain, Archaeotherium had total, unquestioned authority, dominating the other predators in the landscape and likely stealing their kills as well. In fact, just about the only threat Archaeotherium had was other Archaeotherium, as fossil bite marks suggest that this animal regularly and fraglantly engaged in intraspecific combat, usually through face-biting and possibly even jaw-wrestling (Effinger, 1998; Tanke & Currie, 1998). Nevertheless, it was clear that Archaeotherium was the undisputed king of the badlands; in a landscape of hyaenodonts and carnivorans galore, it was a hoofed ungulate that reigned supreme.
However, such a reign would not last. As the Eocene transitioned into the Eocene, the planet underwent an abrupt cooling and drying phase known as Eocene-Oligocene Transition or more simply the Grande Coupure. This change in climate would eliminate the sprawling wetlands and river systems that Archaeotherium had been depending on, gradually replacing it with drier and more open habitats. To its credit, Archaeotherium did manage to hang on, persisting well after the Grand-Coupure had taken place, but in the end the damage had been done; Archaeotherium was a dead-man-walking. Eventually, by around 28 million years ago, Archaeotherium would go extinct, perishing due to this change in global climate (Gillham, 2019). Entelodonts as a whole would persist into the Miocene, producing some of their largest forms ever known in the form of the bison-sized Daeodon (which was itself even more carnivorous than Archaeotherium), however they too would meet the same fate as their earlier cousins. By around 15-20 million years ago, entelodonts as a whole would go extinct. However, while the entelodonts may have perished, this was not the end of carnivorous ungulates as a whole. Recall that the cetacodontamorphs, the lineage of artiodactyls that produced the entelodonts, left behind two living descendants. The first among them were the hippos, themselves fairly frequent herbivores. The second of such lineage, however, was a different story. Emerging out of South Asia, this lineage of piscivorous cetacodontamorphs, in a an attempt to further specialize for the fish-hunting lifestyle, began to delve further and further into the water, becoming more and more aquatic and the millennia passed by. At a certain point, these carnivorous artiodactlys had become something completely unrecognizable from their original hoofed forms. Their skin became hairless and their bodies became streamlined for life in water. Their hoofed limbs grew into giant flippers for steering in the water and their previously tiny tails became massive and sported giant tail flukes for aquatic propulsion. Their noses even moved to the tip of their head, becoming a blowhole that would be signature to this clade as a whole. Indeed, this clade was none other than the modern whales, themselves derived, carnivorous ungulates that had specialized for a life in the water, and in doing so, became the some of the most dominant aquatic predators across the globe for millions of years. Indeed, though long gone, the legacy of the entelodonts and of predatory ungulates as a whole, a legacy Archaeotherium itself had helped foster, lives on in these paragons of predatory prowess, showing that the ungulates are more than just the mere “prey” that they are often made out to be. Moreover, given the success that carnivorous ungulates had enjoyed in the past and given how modern omnivorous ungulates like boar dabble in predation themselves, perhaps, in the distant future, this planet may see the rise of carnivorous ungulates once again, following in the footsteps left behind by Archaeotherium and the other predatory ungulates all those millions of years ago.
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2024.05.14 16:25 Mophandel Archaeotherium, the King of the White River Badlands

Archaeotherium, the King of the White River Badlands
Art by Bob Nicholls
Nowadays, when we envision the words “prey,” among modern mammalian fauna, few taxa come to mind as quickly as the hoofed mammals, better known as the ungulates. Indeed, for the better part of their entire evolutionary history, the ungulates have become entirely indistinguishable from the term “prey.” Across their two major modern branches, the artiodactyls (the “even-toed ungulates,” such as bovids, pigs, deer, hippos and giraffes) and the perissodactyls (the “odd-toed ungulates,” including horses, rhinos and tapir), the ungulates too have created an empire spanning nearly every continent, establishing themselves as the the dominant herbivores throughout their entire range. However, as a price for such success, their lot as herbivores have forced them into an unenviable position: being the food for the predators. Indeed, throughout the diets of most modern predators, ungulates make up the majority, if not the entirety, of their diet, becoming their counterparts in this evolutionary dance of theirs. They have become the lamb to their wolf, the zebra to their lion, the stag to their tiger. If there is a predator in need of lunch, chances are that there is an ungulate there to provide it. Of course, such a dynamic is not necessarily a recent innovation. For the last 15-20 million years, across much of the world, both new and old, the ungulates have served as prey for these predators through it all. Over the course of whole epochs, these two groups have played into these roles for millions of years, coevolving with each other in an eons-long game of cat-and-mouse. The shoes they fill are not new, but have existed for ages, and within their niches they have cultivated their roles to perfection. Indeed, with such a tenured history, it seems hardly surprising the ungulates are wholly inseparable from the terms “prey,” itself.
However, while this is the case now, as it has been for the last 15-20 million years, go back far enough, and we see that this dynamic is not as set in stone as we would think. Indeed, back during the Eocene and Oligocene, during the very earliest days of age of mammals, things were very different for the ungulates. While today they are considered little more than food for modern predators, during these olden days, the ungulates weren’t quite so benign. In fact, far from being fodder for top predators, the ungulates had turned the tables, instead becoming top predators themselves. Indeed, though nearly unheard of today, throughout much of the Eocene and Oligocene, carnivorous ungulates thrived in abundance, developing specializations for catching large prey and establishing themselves as top predators that competed alongside the more traditional carnivores, and even dominating them in some instances. Given such success, it’s no wonder that multiple such clades had arisen during this time. Such predators included the arctocyonids, a lineage of (ironically) hoof-less ungulates with large jaws and sharp teeth for capturing large prey. There were also the mesonychians, a lineage of dog-like ungulates with massive skulls and jaws that allowed them to reign as the top predator across much of the Eocene.
However, among these various lineages, one stands stands out among the rest, by far. Arising during the Eocene, this lineage, though superficially resembling modern pigs, hailed from one an ancient lineage of artiodactyls far removed from swine or most other ungulates in general, with few close relatives alive today. Through perhaps not the most predatory of the bunch, it was among the most formidable, as their superficially pig-like appearance came with giant predatory jaws and teeth unlike anything from the modern era. And of course, as if all of that wasn’t enough, this lineage also went on to earn arguably one of the most badass nicknames of any lineage of mammals, period. These predators, of course, were the entelodonts, a.k.a the “hell-pigs.” More so than any other predatory ungulate lineage, these formidable ungulates were the ones to turn the current paradigm upside down, becoming some of the largest and most dominant carnivores in their landscape, even with (and often in spite of) the presence of more traditional predators. Through impressive size, fearsome teeth and sheer tenacity, these animals became the top dogs of their time, ruling as behemoth-kings of their Paleogene kingdoms, domineering all comers, and throughout the ranks, one entelodont in particular demonstrated such dominance the best. Though not the largest or most powerful of their kind, it is one of the most iconic, being among the most well-known members of its lineage to date. Moreover, this enteledont also has some of the most complete life histories ever seen out of this clade, with its brutality and predatory prowess being displayed in the fossil record in a way seen in no other member of its kind. More than anything else, however, it was this predator that best turned the notion of “ungulates being prey” on its head, living in an environment that bore some of the largest carnivoran hypercarnivores to date and still reigning as the undisputed top predator of its domain. This fearsome beast was none other than Archaeotherium, icon of the entelodonts, terror of the Oligocene American west and undisputed king of the White River badlands.
The rise of Archaeotherium (and of entelodonts in general) is closely tied to the ascendancy of carnivorous ungulates as a whole, one of the earliest evolutionary success stories of the entire Cenozoic. Having become their own derived clade since the late Cretaceous, the ungulates were remarkably successful during the early Paleogene, as they were among the first mammalian clades to reach large sizes during those early days after the non-avian dinosaurs had gone extinct. As such, it was with incredible swiftness that, as the Paleogene progressed, the ungulates swooped upon the various niches left empty by the K-Pg mass extinction that killed the dinosaurs. This of course included the herbivorous niches we would know them for today, but this also included other, much more carnivore roles. Indeed, early on during the Paleogene, it was the ungulates that first seized the roles of large mammalian predators, becoming some the earliest large mammalian carnivores to ever live, well before even the carnivorans. Such predators included the arctocyonids, a lineage of vaguely dog-like, hoof-less ungulates with robust jaws and sharpened teeth that acted as some of earliest large carnivores of the Paleocene, with genera such as Arctocyon mumak getting up to the size of big cats. Even more prolific were the mesonychids. More so than what pretty much any other lineage of predator, it was the mesonychids that would stand out as the earliest dominant predators of the early Cenozoic. Growing up to the size of bears and with enormous, bone-crushing jaws, the mesonychids were among the most powerful and successful predators on the market at that time, with a near-global range and being capable of subjugating just about any other predator in their environments. Indeed, they, along with other carnivorous ungulates (as well as ungulates in general), were experiencing a golden age during this time, easily being the most prolific predators of the age. Given such prevalence, it should be no surprise that there would be yet another lineage of predatory ungulates would throw their hat into the ring, and by early Eocene, that contender would none other than the entelodonts.
The very first entelodonts had arisen from artiodactyl ancestors during the Eocene epoch, at a time when artiodactyls were far more diverse and bizarre than they are now. Through today known from their modern herbivorous representatives such as bovines, deer, and antelope, during the Paleocene and Eocene, the artiodacyls, as with most ungulates of that time, were stronger and far more predaceous, particularly when it came to one such clade of artiodactyls, the cetacodontamorphs. Only known today from hippos and another group of artiodactyls (one which will become relevant later), the cetacodantomorphs emerged out of Asia around 55 million years ago, at around the same time that artiodactyls themselves had made their debut. These animals included the first truly predatory artiodactyls, with many of them possessing large skulls with powerful jaws and sharp, predatory teeth. Among their ranks included animals as puny as Indohyus, a piscivorous artiodactyl the size of a cat, to as formidable as Andrewsarchus, a giant, bison-sized predator often touted as one of the largest predatory mammals to ever live. Given such a predatory disposition, it wouldn’t be long until this clade produced a lineage of truly diverse, truly successful predators, and by around 40 million years ago, that is exactly what they did, as it was at that time that the entelodonts themselves first emerged. From their Asian homeland, the entelodonts spread across the world, spreading through not only most of Eurasia but also colonizing North America as well, with genera such as Brachyhyops being found across both continents. Here, in this North American frontier, the entelodonts began to diversify further, turning into their most successful and formidable forms yet, and it was around the late Eocene and early Oligocene that Archaeotherium itself had entered the scene.
Just from a passing glance at Archaeotherium, it is clear how exactly it (as well as the other entelodonts) earned the nickname of “hell-pigs.” It was a bruiser for starters; its body bore a robust, pig-like physique, with prominent neural spines and their associated musculature forming a hump around the shoulder region, similar to the hump of a bison. With such a bulky physique came with it impressive size; the average A. mortoni had a head-body length of roughly 1.6-2.0 m (5.3-6.6 ft), a shoulder height of 1.2 m (4 ft) and a body mass of around 180 kg (396 lb) in weight (Boardman & Secord, 2013; Joeckel, 1990). At such sizes, an adult Archaeotherium the size of a large male black bear. However, they had the potential to get even bigger. While most Archaeotherium specimens were around the size described above, a select few specimens, labeled under the synonymous genus “Megachoerus,” are found to be much larger, with skulls getting up to 66% longer than average A. mortoni specimens (Foss, 2001; Joeckel, 1990). At such sizes and using isometric scaling, such massive Archaeotherium specimens would attained body lengths over 2.5 m (8.2 ft) and would have reached weighs well over 500 kg (1100 lb), or as big as a mature male polar bear. Indeed, at such sizes, it is already abundantly evident that Archaeotherium is a force to be recorded with.
However, there was more to these formidable animals than sheer size alone. Behind all that bulk was an astoundingly swift and graceful predator, especially in terms of locomotion. Indeed, the hoofed feet of Archaeotherium, along with other entelodonts, sported several adaptations that gave it incredible locomotive efficiency, essentially turning it into a speed demon of the badlands. Such adaptations include longer distal leg elements (e.g. the radius and tibia) than their proximal counterparts (e.g. the humerus and femur), fusion of the radius and ulna for increased running efficiency, the loss of the clavicle (collar-bone) to allow for greater leg length, the loss of the acromion to enhance leg movement along the fore-and-aft plane, the loss of digits to reduce the mass of the forelimb, the fusion of the ectocuneiform and the mesocuneiform wrist-bones, among many other such traits (Theodore, 1996) . Perhaps most significant of these adaptations is the evolution of the “double-pulley astragalus (ankle-bone),” a specialized modification of the ankle that, while restricting rotation and side-to-side movement at the ankle-joint, allows for greater rotation in the fore-and-aft direction, thus allowing for more more powerful propulsion from the limbs, faster extension and retraction of the limbs and overall greater locomotive efficiency (Foss, 2001). Of course, such a trait was not only found in entelodonts but in artiodactyls as a whole, likely being a response to predatory pressures from incumbent predatory clades arising at the same time as the artiodactyls (Foss, 2001). However, in the case of the entelodonts, such adaptations were not used for merely escaping predators. Rather, they were used to for another, much more lethal effect…
Such notions are further reinforced by the entelodonts most formidable aspect, none either than their fearsome jaws, and in this respect, Archaeotherium excelled. Both for its size and in general, the head of Archaeotherium was massive, measuring 40-50 cm (1.3-1.6 ft) in length among average A. mortoni specimens, to up to 78 cm (~2.6 ft) in the larger “Megachoerus” specimens (Joeckel, 1990). Such massive skulls were supported and supplemented by equally massive neck muscles and ligaments, which attached to massive neural spines on the anterior thoracic vertebrae akin to a bisons hump as well as to the sternum, allowing Archaeotherium to keep its head aloft despite the skulls massive size (Effinger, 1998). Of course, with such a massive skull, it should come as no surprise that such skulls housed exceptionally formidable jaws as well, and indeed, the bite of Archaeotherium was an especially deadly one. Its zygomatic arches (cheek-bones) and its temporal fossa were enlarged and expanded, indicative of massive temporalis muscles that afforded Archaeotherium astoundingly powerful bites (Joeckel, 1990). This is further augmented by Archaeotherium’s massive jugal flanges (bony projections of the cheek), which supported powerful masseter muscles which enhanced chewing and mastication, as well as an enlarged postorbital bar that reinforced the skull against torsional stresses (Foss, 2001). Last but not least, powerful jaws are supplemented by an enlarged gape, facilitated by a low coronoid process and enlarged posterior mandibular tubercles (bony projections originating from the lower jaw), which provided an insertion site for sternum-to-mandible jaw abduction muscles, allowing for a more forceful opening of the jaw (Foss, 2001). All together, such traits suggest a massive and incredibly fearsome bite, perhaps the most formidable of any animal in its environment.
Of course, none of such traits are especially indicative of a predatory lifestyle. Indeed, many modern non-predatory ungulates, like hippos, pigs and peccaries, also possess large, formidable skulls and jaws. However, in peeling back the layers, it is found there was more to the skull of Archaeotherium that lies in store. Indeed, when inspecting the animal closely, a unique mosaic of features is revealed; traits that make it out to be much more lethal than the average artiodactyl. On one hand, Archaeotherium possessed many traits similar to those of herbivores animals, as is expected of ungulates. For instance, its jaw musculature that allowed the lower jaw of Archaeotherium a full side-to-side chewing motion as in herbivores (whereas most carnivores can only move their lower jaw up and down)(Effinger, 1998). On the other hand, Archaeotherium wielded many other traits far more lethal in their morphology, less akin to a herbivore and far more akin to a bonafide predator. For instance, the aforementioned enlarged gape of Archaeotherium is a bizarre trait on a supposed herbivore, as such animals do not need large gapes to eat vegetation and thus have smaller, more restricted gapes. Conversely, many predatory lineages have comparatively large gapes, as larger gapes allow for the the jaws to grab on to more effectively larger objects, namely large prey animals (Joeckel, 1990).
Such a juxtaposition, however, is most evident when discussing the real killing instruments of Archaeotherium — the teeth. More so than any facet of this animal, the teeth of Archaeotherium are the real stars of the show, showing both how alike it was compared to its herbivores counterparts and more importantly, how it couldn’t be more different. For instance, the molars of Archaeotherium were quite similar to modern herbivores ungulates, in that they were robust, bunodont, and were designed for crushing and grinding, similar in form and function to modern ungulates like peccaries (Joeckel, 1990). However, while the molars give the impression that Archaeotherium was a herbivore, the other teeth tell a very different story. The incisors, for example, were enlarged, sharpened, and fully interlocked (as opposed to the flat-topped incisors seen in herbivores ungulates), creating an incisor array that was seemingly ill-suited for cropping vegetation and much more adept at for gripping, puncturing and cutting (Joeckel, 1990). Even more formidable were the canines. Like the modern pigs from which entelodonts derived their nicknames, the canines of Archaeotherium were sharp and enlarged to form prominent tusk-like teeth, but unlike pigs, they were rounded in cross-section (similar to modern carnivores like big cats, indicating more durable canines that can absorb and resist torsional forces, such as those from struggling prey) and were serrated to form a distinct cutting edge (Effinger, 1998; Joeckel, 1990; Ruff & Van Valkenburgh, 1987). These canines, along with the incisors, interlock to stabilize the jaws while biting and dismantling in a carnivore-like fashion. More strikingly, the canines also seem to act as “occlusal guides,” wherein the canines help align the movement and position of the rear teeth as they come together, allowing for a more efficient shearing action by the rear teeth. This function is seen most prevalently modern carnivores mammals, and is evidenced by the canine tooth-wear, which is also analogous to modern predators like bears and canids (Joeckel, 1990). Indeed, going off such teeth alone, it is clear that Archaeotherium is far more predatory than expected of an ungulate. However, the real stars of the show, the teeth that truly betray the predatory nature of these ungulates, are the premolars. Perhaps the most carnivore-like teeth in the entelodont’s entire tooth row, the premolars of Archaeotherium, particularly the anterior premolars, are laterally compressed, somewhat conical in shape, and are weakly serrated to bear a cutting edge, giving them a somewhat carnivorous form and function of shearing and slicing (Effinger, 1998). Most strikingly of all, the premolars of Archaeotherium bear unique features similar not to modern herbivores, but to durophagous carnivores like hyenas, particularly apical wear patterns, highly thickened enamel, “zigzag-shaped” enamel prism layers (Hunter-Schraeger bands) on the premolars which is also seen in osteophagous animals like hyenas, and an interlocking premolar interface wherein linear objects (such as bones) inserted into jaws from the side would be pinned between the premolars and crushed (Foss, 2001). Taken together, these features do not suggest a diet of grass or vegetation like other ungulates. Rather, they suggest a far more violent diet, one including flesh as well as hard, durable foods, particularly bone. All in all, the evidence is clear. Archaeotherium and other entelodonts, unlike the rest of their artiodactyl kin, were not the passive herbivores as we envision ungulates today. Rather, they were willing, unrepentant meat-eaters that had a taste for flesh as well as foliage.
Of course, even with such lines of evidence, its hard to conclude that Archaeotherium was a true predator. After all, its wide gape and durophagous teeth could have just as easily been used for scavenging or even to eat tough plant matter such as seeds or nuts, as in peccaries and pigs, which themselves share many of the same adaptations as Archaeotherium, include the more carnivorous ones (e.g. the wide gape, using the canines as an occlusal guide, etc.). How exactly do we know that these things were veritable predators and not pretenders to the title. To this end, there is yet one last piece of evidence, one that puts on full display the predatory prowess of Archaeotheriumevidence of a kill itself. Found within oligocene-aged sediment in what is now Wyoming, a collection of various fossil remains was found, each belonging to the ancient sheep-sized camel Poebrotherium, with many of the skeletal remains being disarticulated and even missing whole hindlimbs or even entire rear halves of their body. Tellingly, many of the remains bear extensive bite marks and puncture wounds across their surface. Upon close examination, the spacing and size of the punctures leave only one culprit: Archaeotherium. Of course, such an event could still have been scavenging; the entelodonts were consuming the remains of already dead, decomposed camels, explaining the bite marks. What was far more telling, however, was where the bite marks were found. In addition bite marks being found on the torso and lumbar regions of the camels, various puncture wounds were found on the skull and neck, which were otherwise uneaten. Scavengers rarely feast on the head to begin with; there is very little worthwhile meat on it besides the brain, cheek-muscles and eyes, and even if they did feed on the skull and neck, they would still eat it wholesale, not merely bite it and then leave it otherwise untouched. Indeed, it was clear that this was no mere scavenging event. Rather than merely consuming these camels, Archaeotherium was actively preying upon and killing them, dispatching them via a crushing bite to the skull or neck before dismembering and even bisecting the hapless camels with their powerful jaws to preferentially feast on their hindquarters (likely by swallowing the hindquarters whole, as the pelvis of Poebrotherium was coincidentally the perfect width for Archaeotherium to devour whole), eventually discarding the leftovers in meat caches for later consumption (Sundell, 1999). With this finding, such a feat of brutality leaves no doubt in ones mind as to what the true nature of Archaeotherium was. This was no herbivore, nor was it a simple scavenger. This was an active, rapacious predator, the most powerful in its entire ecosystem.
Indeed, with such brutal evidence of predation frozen in time, combined with various dental, cranial, and post cranial adaptations of this formidable animal, it’s possible to paint a picture of how this formidable creature lived. Though an omnivore by trade, willing and able to feast on plant matter such as grass, roots and tubers, Archaeotherium was also a wanton predator that took just about any prey it wanted. Upon detecting its prey, it approached its vicim from ambush before launching itself at blazing speed. From there, its cursorial, hoofed legs, used by other ungulates for escape predation, were here employed to capture prey, carrying it at great speeds as it caught up to its quarry. Having closed the distance with its target, it was then that the entelodont brought its jaws to bear, grabbing hold of the victim with powerful jaws and gripping teeth to bring it to a screeching halt. If the victim is lucky, Archaeotherium will then kill it quickly with a crushing bite to the skull or neck, puncturing the brain or spinal cord and killing its target instantly. If not, the victim is eaten alive, torn apart while it’s still kicking, as modern boars will do today. In any case, incapacitated prey are subsequently dismantled, with the entelodont using its entire head and heavily-muscled necks to bite into and pull apart its victim in devastating “puncture-and pull’ bites (Foss, 2001). Prey would then finally be consumed starting at the hindquarters, with not even the bones of its prey being spared. Such brutality, though far from clean, drove home a singular truth: that during this time, ungulates were not just prey, that they were not the mere “predator-fodder” we know them as today. rather, they themselves were the predators themselves, dominating as superb hunters within their domain and even suppressing clades we know as predators today, least of all the carnivorans. Indeed, during this point in time, the age of the carnivorous ungulates had hit their stride, and more specifically, the age of entelodonts had begun.
Of course, more so than any other ettelodont, Archaeotherium took to this new age with gusto. Archaeotherium lived from 35-28 million years ago during the late Eocene and early Oligocene in a locality known today as the White River Badlands, a fossil locality nestled along the Great Plains and Rocky Mountains. Though a chalky, barren landscape today, during the time of Archaeotherium, the White River Badlands was a swamp-like floodplain crisscrossed with rivers and interspersed with by a mosaic of forests concentrated around waterways, open woodlands and open plains. As with most ecosystems with such a lush disposition, this locale teemed with life, with ancient hornless rhinos, small horse-like hyracodonts and early camels roaming the open habitats while giant brontotheres, small early horses and strange, sheep-like ungulates called merycoidodonts (also known as “oreodonts”) dwelled within the dense forests. Within this locale, Archaeotherium stalked the open woodlands and riparian forests of its domain. Here, it acted as a dominant predator and scavenger across is territory, filling a niche similar to modern grizzly bears but far more predatory. Among its preferred food items would be plant matter such as roots, foliage and nuts, but also meat in the form of carrion or freshly caught prey. In this respect, smaller ungulates such as the fleet-footed camel Poebrotherium, a known prey item of Archaeotherium, would have made a for choice prey, as its small size would make it easy for Archaeotherium to dispatch with its powerful jaws, while the entelodonts swift legs gave it the speed necessary to keep pace with its agile prey.
However, the entelodont didn’t have such a feast all to itself. Just as the badlands teemed with herbivores, so too did it teem with rival predators. Among their ranks included fearsome predators such as Hyaenodon, a powerful, vaguely dog-like predator up to the size of wolves (as in H. horridus) or even lions (as in the Eocene-aged H. megaloides, which was replaced by H. horridus during the Oligocene). Armed with a massive head, fierce jaws and a set of knife-like teeth that could cut down even large prey in seconds, these were some of the most formidable predators on the landscape. There were also the nimravids, cat-like carnivorans that bore saber-teeth to kill large prey in seconds, and included the likes of the lynx-sized Dinictis, the leopard-sized Hoplophoneus and even the jaguar-sized Eusmilus. Furthermore, there were amphicyonids, better known as the bear-dogs. Though known from much larger forms later on in their existence, during the late Eocene and Oligocene, they were much smaller and acted as the “canid-analogues” of the ecosystem, filling a role similar to wolves or coyotes. Last but not least, there were the bathornithid birds, huge cariamiform birds related to modern seriemas but much larger, which filled a niche similar to modern seriemas or secretary birds, albeit on a much larger scale. Given such competition, it would seem that Archaeotherium would have its hands full. However, things are not as they appear. For starters, habitat differences would mitigate high amounts of competition, as both Hyaenodon and the various nimravids occupy more specialized ecological roles (being a plains-specialist and forest-specialist, respectively) than did Archaeotherium, providing a buffer to stave off competition: More importantly, however, none of the aforementioned predators were simply big enough to take Archaeotherium on. During the roughly 7 million years existence of Archaeotherium, the only carnivore that matched it in size was H. megaloides, and even that would have an only applied to average A. mortoni individuals, not to the much larger, bison-sized “Megachoerus” individuals. The next largest predator at that point would be the jaguars-sized Eusmilus (specifically E. adelos) which would have only been a bit more than half the size of even an average A. mortoni. Besides that, virtually every other predator on the landscape was simply outclassed by the much larger entelodont in terms of size and brute strength. As such, within its domain, Archaeotherium had total, unquestioned authority, dominating the other predators in the landscape and likely stealing their kills as well. In fact, just about the only threat Archaeotherium had was other Archaeotherium, as fossil bite marks suggest that this animal regularly and fraglantly engaged in intraspecific combat, usually through face-biting and possibly even jaw-wrestling (Effinger, 1998; Tanke & Currie, 1998). Nevertheless, it was clear that Archaeotherium was the undisputed king of the badlands; in a landscape of hyaenodonts and carnivorans galore, it was a hoofed ungulate that reigned supreme.
However, such a reign would not last. As the Eocene transitioned into the Eocene, the planet underwent an abrupt cooling and drying phase known as Eocene-Oligocene Transition or more simply the Grande Coupure. This change in climate would eliminate the sprawling wetlands and river systems that Archaeotherium had been depending on, gradually replacing it with drier and more open habitats. To its credit, Archaeotherium did manage to hang on, persisting well after the Grand-Coupure had taken place, but in the end the damage had been done; Archaeotherium was a dead-man-walking. Eventually, by around 28 million years ago, Archaeotherium would go extinct, perishing due to this change in global climate (Gillham, 2019). Entelodonts as a whole would persist into the Miocene, producing some of their largest forms ever known in the form of the bison-sized Daeodon (which was itself even more carnivorous than Archaeotherium), however they too would meet the same fate as their earlier cousins. By around 15-20 million years ago, entelodonts as a whole would go extinct. However, while the entelodonts may have perished, this was not the end of carnivorous ungulates as a whole. Recall that the cetacodontamorphs, the lineage of artiodactyls that produced the entelodonts, left behind two living descendants. The first among them were the hippos, themselves fairly frequent herbivores. The second of such lineage, however, was a different story. Emerging out of South Asia, this lineage of piscivorous cetacodontamorphs, in a an attempt to further specialize for the fish-hunting lifestyle, began to delve further and further into the water, becoming more and more aquatic and the millennia passed by. At a certain point, these carnivorous artiodactlys had become something completely unrecognizable from their original hoofed forms. Their skin became hairless and their bodies became streamlined for life in water. Their hoofed limbs grew into giant flippers for steering in the water and their previously tiny tails became massive and sported giant tail flukes for aquatic propulsion. Their noses even moved to the tip of their head, becoming a blowhole that would be signature to this clade as a whole. Indeed, this clade was none other than the modern whales, themselves derived, carnivorous ungulates that had specialized for a life in the water, and in doing so, became the some of the most dominant aquatic predators across the globe for millions of years. Indeed, though long gone, the legacy of the entelodonts and of predatory ungulates as a whole, a legacy Archaeotherium itself had helped foster, lives on in these paragons of predatory prowess, showing that the ungulates are more than just the mere “prey” that they are often made out to be. Moreover, given the success that carnivorous ungulates had enjoyed in the past and given how modern omnivorous ungulates like boar dabble in predation themselves, perhaps, in the distant future, this planet may see the rise of carnivorous ungulates once again, following in the footsteps left behind by Archaeotherium and the other predatory ungulates all those millions of years ago.
submitted by Mophandel to Naturewasmetal [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 16:16 Helpmelive453 Can hair lighten shades as you age?

Hey everyone my hair has been a bit odd lately idk how else to put it 😅
So I was born with brown hair, it fell out and was blonde for about 5 years. My mum decided to cut it into a bob and it became pretty dark brown. After moving to Aus at 7 almost 8, my hair started to lighten. Now I always thought obviously it’s the sun etc.
However lately I have noticed my hair to get a lot lighter with an orange tint at my roots. So much so my relatives who barely see me have noticed it too.
Last year in Feb I got subtle highlights which are now obviously no where near my roots, and look pretty natural next to my natural highlights I get from being outside. As I look at photos from 2017 until recently my hair has been a darkish brown, especially at the root. Because of covid I think my hair potentially stayed naturally darker for longer.
But anyways is it normal for my hair to just lighten up so much, so quickly in a subtle yet drastic way? Is my hair changing colours again?
Like I have mentioned I haven’t done anything to my hair like no dyes or highlights or anything since Feb 2023. And I am talking about my now roots not necessarily my ends.
I have looked online and it just talks about hair going grey or darkening as you age older. Nothing about lightening to a shade or two lighter as a adult 😂
submitted by Helpmelive453 to Hair [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 15:42 Rambooctpuss Album Bucket List Favorite Albums By Genre: What's Your Favorite Movie Soundtrack?

70's Alt Rock -King Crimson-Lark's Tongue In Aspic
80's Alt Rock - Talking Heads-Remain In Light
90's Alt Rock- Nirvana- Never mind
2000's Alt Rock-The Strokes-Is This It
2010's Alt Rock Tame Impala-Lonerism
Alt Country -Wilco-Summerteeth
Alt Hip Hop-MF Doom- Mad villainy
Art Rock-Dark Side Of The Moon-Pink Floyd
Brit Rock- The Clash- London Calling
College Rock-REM-Murmur
Emo Rock-My Chemical Romance-Welcome To The Black Parade
Experimental Rock-Swans-To Be Kind
Goth-The Cure Disintegration
Grunge- Soundgarden-Superunknown
Hardcore Punk- Black Flag- Damaged
Heavy Metal-Black Sabbath-Paranoid
60's Hard Rock-Led Zeppelin I
70's Hard rock-Led Zeppelin-Physical Graffiti
80's Hard Rock- AC/DC-Back In Black
90's Hard Rock-Nirvana-In Utero
2000's Hard Rock-Queens Of The Stone Age-Songs For The Deaf
2010's ˙Hard Rock- Tool-Fear Inoculum
Indie Rock-Joy Division-Unknown Pleasures
Indie Folk-Big Thief-Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You
Lo-Fi-Neutral Milk Hotel-In The Aeroplane Over The Sea
New Wave-Elvis Costello-This Year's Model
Progressive Rock- Tool- Lateralus
Punk- Ramones-Rocket To Russia
pop punk-Green Day-Dookie
Post Punk- Wire- Pink Flag
Shoegaze-My Bloody Valentine-Loveless
Blues-Nina Simone-Sings The Blues
Blues Rock-The Rolling Stones-Sticky Fingers
Avant Garde- Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band-Trout Mask Replica
Baroque Pop-The Beach Boys-Pet Sounds
Symphonic Rock-Moody Blues-Days Of Future Past
Comedy/Novelty album-Adam Sandler-They're All Gonna Laugh At You
Stand Up Comedy-George Carlin-Back In Town
Americana-The Band-The Band
Bakersfield Sound-Buck Owens-Best Of Buck Owens
Bluegrass-Old & In The Way-That High Lonesome Sound
Outlaw Country-Willie Nelson-Redheaded Stranger
Classic Country-Johnny Cash-Live At Folsom Prison
Country Rock- The Flying Burrito Brothers-The Gilded Palace Of Sin
Dance/Club-LCD Soundsystem- This Is Happening
Christmas /Holiday Album-Vince Gauralidi-A Charlie Brown Christmas
EMD/Techno-Burial-Untrue
Ambient-Brian Eno-Music For Airports
Electronic Rock-Radiohead-Kid A
Space Rock- Spiritualized- Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space
Synthpop-Depeche Mode-Violator
Synthrock- New Order-Power, Corruption and Lies
Industrial-Nine Inch Nails-The Downward Spiral
Krautrock- Can-Tago Mago
Folk-Bob Dylan-The Freewillin' Bob Dylan
Folk Rock-Bob Dylan-Blood On The Tracks
Southern Rock-The Allman Brothers Band-At Fillmore East
80's Hip Hop-The Beastie Boys-Paul's Boutique
90's- Hip Hop Wu-Tang Clan-Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)
2000's Hip Hop-Outkast- Stankonia
2010's Hip Hop-Kendrick Lamar-To Pimp A Butterfly
2020's Hip Hop-Run The Jewels-RTJ 4
East Coast Hip Hop- Nas- Illmatic
West Coast Hip Hop-NWA-Straight Outta Compton
Southern Hip Hop-Outkast -Aquemini
Midwest Album-Kanye West-My Dark Twisted Fantasy
Trap-Travis Sott-Rodeo
Instrumental Hip Hop- DJ Shadow- Endtroducing....
Indie Pop-Belle And Sebastian-If You're Feeling Sinister
Noise Rock-Sonic Youth-Daydream Nation
Post-rock- Godspeed! You Black Emperor-Lift Your Skinny Fist Like Antennas To Heaven
Acid Jazz- Medeski ,Martin, and Wood -Shack-Man
Trip Hop -Portishead- Dummy
Gospel -Aretha Franklin-Amazing Grace
Christian- Sufjan Stevens -Illnoise
Jazz-Miles Davis-Kind Of Blue
Avant Garde Jazz-Ornette Coleman-Shape To Jazz To Come
Swing/Bebop-Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers-Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers w/Thelonious Monk
Jazz/Fusion-Miles Davis-In A Silent Way
Jazz Rock-Miles Davis-Bitches Brew
Jazz/Funk-Herbie Hancock-Head Hunters
Jazz/Rap-A tribe Called Quest-The Low End Theory
Latin- Los Lobos-Kiko
Speed Metal/Thrash- Metallica- Master Of Puppets
Black/Death Metal-Deafheaven-Sunbather
Symphonic Metal-Haken-The Mountain
Glam Rock -T.Rex-Electric Warrior
Hair Metal-Guns N Roses-Appetite For Destruction
New Wave Of British Heavy Metal-Iron Maiden- Number Of The Beast
Sludge-Electric Wizard- Dopethron
Nu Metal-Korn-Korn
New Age-Popol Vuh - Hosianna Mantra
Pop-Prince-Sign O' The Times
60's Pop- The Beatles-Revolver
70's Pop- Carole King-Tapestry
80's Pop- Peter Gabriel-So
90's Pop-Madonna-Ray Of Light
2000's Pop-Madonna-Confessions On A Dance Floor
2010's pop-Robyn-Body Talk
2020's Pop- Perfume Genius-Set My Heart On Fire
Adult Contemporary- Billy Joel-The Stranger
Europop- ABBA- Arrival
Latin Pop-Ruben Y Seis Del Solar-Buscando America
Dance Pop-Dee-Lite-World Clique
Dream Pop- Mazzy Star-So Tonight I Might See
Power Pop- Weezer-Blue Album
R&B- Marvin Gaye-What's Going On
60's R&B-Aretha Franklin-I Never Loved A Man The Way I Loved You
70's R&B- Stevie Wonder- Songs In The Key Of Life
80's R&B- Janet Jackson- Control
90's R&B Album- Lauryn Hill-The Miseducation Of Lauryn Hill
2000's R&B- D'Angelo-Voodoo
2010's-R&B-Beyonce-Lemonade
2020's R&B- SZA-SOS
Disco-Donna Summers-Bad Girls
Doo Wop- The Chantels- We Are The Chantels
Funk-Funkadelic-Maggot Brain
Motown- Marvin Gaye-Let's Get It On
Neo-Soul-Erykah Badu-Baduizm
Psychedelic Soul- Curtis Mayfield-Curtis
Soul-Aretha Franklin-Lady Soul
Reggae-Bob Marley- Exodus
Ska-The Specials-The Specials
Swing Revival-Big Bad Voodoo Daddy-Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
Rock N Roll-The Rolling Stones-Exile On Main Street
Acid Rock- Jimi Hendrix- Are You Experienced
Arena Rock-Boston-Boston
Cock Rock-Van Halen I
Math Rock-Slint-Spiderland
Stoner Rock-Kyuss-Welcome To Sky Valley
Jam Band- Grateful Dead-American Beauty
SingeSongwriter- Neil Young-Harvest
Surf Rock-The Beach Boys-Shut Down Vol II
Soft Rock/Yacht Rock-Steely Dan-Aja
submitted by Rambooctpuss to albumbucketlist [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 15:21 ENgLiSh-illiTeRAtE [TOMT][TV SHOW][2000's] Painting lessons (like Bob Ross) I used to watch as a kid.

This show has always been a vague memory to me, though one that I have been wanting to revisit for years. I used to watch this show around the years 2002-2003 I think and it would be broadcast through antenna frequencies (UHF&VHF), I think it was PBS or Canadian equivalent because I live in northeast Ohio and the lake is very close to where I live.
The show would play either before or after Math Monsters by United Learning (another extremely obscure TV show). The intro was classical music leading into a cabin(?) in a garden of sorts and the interior was very dark (like how Bob Ross would do his sets). The artist teaching how to paint was an old guy with white hair, and he would wear a white coat/jacket for some reason (I think). He would talk quietly throughout the lesson and would show how to mix some of the paints to get just the right color. I think the paintings were just landscapes or plants, stuff like that. The run time on the show was quite short, which makes me think it might not have been a proper TV show and just a filler series to pad time.
submitted by ENgLiSh-illiTeRAtE to tipofmytongue [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 14:31 GameBunny-025 Since Horus hasn't gotten a BF yet, I've written a little something (this is my take on it, feel free to make up your own)

I sat on my thrown with a frown on my face. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all! Magna, Mortifica, Liona, even Anatola! Why not me?
"Abaddon!" I shouted and my first captain appeared.
"Yes, my lady?" He stood at attention.
"What do my sisters have that I don't?"
Abaddon looked confused, "My lady?"
"Sanguinia has her Dove, Anatola has her Rose, even Mortifica has her... Whatever she calls him. Why do I not have a partner? I'm the Warmaster for Emperor's sake!"
Abaddon stammered. He didn't know how to answer. Unsurprising.
"H-Have you tried... Asking someone out?"
I frowned, "You think me so simple not to think of such elementary methods?"
"N-No, my lady. Of course not. It's just... Maybe it's because you're so..."
I leaned closer, my eyes narrowing, "So what?"
"Don't take this the wrong way. You're a giant, power-armored, immortal, practically god-like being. I doubt many would... Take the chance."
"Doesn't mean there aren't any," a new voice spoke out. Tarrik Torgadon walked in with his usual swagger, "And it's probably destiny."
Now I was confused, "Explain."
"Well, your sisters have gotten partners only through certain specific occasions. Lady Anatola got hers in a massive battle. I was there, Rose was wielding a chainsword bigger than him. And Lady Lilith got hers at one of those religious backwater conventions or whatever they are."
"So you're saying I'm unlucky?"
Tarrik twisted his lips, "Kind of? But who knows, maybe your knight in shining armor will appear any second."
I laughed at that, "Oh please, Tarrik. The chances of us meeting anybody in this sector of space are astronomically-"
A beeping noise broke me off. My communications officer turned to me and said, "We're being hailed, my Lady."
"By whom?" I ask. There wasn't supposed to be anyone here.
"Unknown. But they sent us a message. It reads: We are friendly. May we appear so we can discuss peace?"
Appear? What do they mean appear? This could be a trap. I guess it didn't matter. I had three dozen warships with me. Whatever comes at us will be destroyed.
"Fine. Tell them I shall meet them."
The officer relayed the message and a ship appeared out of nowhere a second later. Energy sparked in the dark void of space as the vessel's hull materialized. But there was no sign of warp activity. A cloaking device? It was only one and it didn't look particularly impressive despite its sleek design.
An hour went by as the ship got into position next to my Vengeful Spirit. In moments I would meet its captain and hopefully get answers.
"This could be him," Tarrik said.
"Who?" I asked.
"You know."
I scoffed, "Tarrik, once again, the chances of me finding my so-called 'knight in shining armor' on this unknown vessel is-"
The door opened and I was greeted with a sight that made me... Feel. There were two dozen individuals. All humans. A third were women, the rest men. Most of the men wore bulky armor and carried powerful-looking weapons.
But none of that interested me.
The man leading them. He was well over two meters tall. Neatly cropped silver hair adorned his head. His crimson eyes stared into mine. His skin as pale as snow-covered ash. The gray and white suit he wore utterly failed to hide his powerful body. He stood with his arms behind his straight back.
What was this? A witch? Did he use some kind of sorcery? What do I feel? Why do I feel it? How? He...
"Greetings," he spoke, his voice like a melody to my ears, "I am Antonius Maximilian Kantor, Admiral of the first Altraxian Commonwealth Fleet."
My hearts sank. My words refused to come out of my throat. My mouth opened yet not even air escaped my lips. A nudge from Tarrik brought me back just enough.
"Hera Lupercal. Warmaster of the Emperor's armies. Lady of the Lunar Wolves. Conquerer of a million worlds."
I don't know why I said all of that. My mind just devolved into its basic instinct. To make those beneath me fear me. Perhaps that's why I'm...
"An impressive assortment of titles," Antonius said, unnerved by my words, "Hera. Like the goddess of Ancient Terra?"
I stammered, "Y-Yes. Quite a joke name, isn't it?"
"Not at all. It's most fitting."
I swear I could feel my hearts skip a beat. I could feel my face burning like a star. What is this?!
Antonius extended his hand, "Shall we move to a more appropriate location? I believe we have much to discuss."
I hesitated. My arm felt heavy as I slowly lifted it and gently clasped his small hand. Despite my thick gauntlet, I could feel the softness of his palm.
Was this it? Did I... Find him?
submitted by GameBunny-025 to PrimarchGFs [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 14:03 That-Bumblebee1495 Did I overreacted after what my hairdresser told me?

Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. It’s a long story (get your popcorn ready)
So my(33f) whole life I have a very sensitive skin. It’s mostly painful but manageable for me to do manicure and pedicure, I don’t go to cosmetologist as I have a high risk of getting an allergy or redness. However, I like to dye my hair and I have been to numerous hairdressers as well as done it myself for about 15 years
Three years ago I had severe health problems which caused me to lose half of my hair (among other symptoms) and at one point I almost died. At that time I stopped dyeing my hair and chopped it off due to bad quality. 2,5 years later I’ve been feeling good, my hair grew out and I decided it’s time to make my 2 dreams come true: to donate my hair so they can make a wig for cancer patients and to dye the bob that will be after the haircut bright pink
I’ve spent a lot of time to find a hairdresser that would fit me. The one that chopped my hair didn’t work with bright colors and actually chopped off 10cm more than I asked. I was sad but ok as it went for charity
After a few month I finally found the one that had pretty good works and the price was good enough
When I came to the appointment It felt weird, I think we didn’t clicked, but were pretty respectful towards each other. I told her right away that I have sensitive skin and she seemed ok with that
Although I didn’t like that she didn’t ask for my permission to take photos or videos for her social media, and I was just told that she will take them after she finishes her work. I swallowed it as I always supportive of hairdressers, makeup artists etc. I loved her work on me and was absolutely happy, but during the filming she was irritated that I’m posing not like she wanted although I never got the instructions
A few days later she posted an IG reel with me and she put a filter on my face for a preview picture. Mind you, I almost haven’t recognized myself. She never asked me if I’m ok with that. I was livid but once again swallowed it because it’s so hard to find a good hairdresser where I live
During the next appointment she held her blowing dryer too close to my head that it felt like it burned a hole in my head. I politely asked to hold it a bit further and she reacted normally, and tried to do so. Sometimes she pulled my hair too much and I made some quiet noises as I can’t control my reaction
During the third appointment she fucked up with bleaching my roots and I got a light strip 1 cm wide. At first it wasn’t noticeable due to the lighting and I saw it the next day and sent her a message right away. She never apologized and tried to make it seem like it was my fault, but eventually said to come to her salon to fix it (for free ofc). Her fixing didn’t help that time and the next one. So I had to walk like that for 2 months. She never acknowledged her fault, and newer apologized. Okay, things happen, I understand. I swallowed my frustration once again
Now to the main problem. I’ve been at her salon for 5-6 times and after at least the last three of them I’ve noticed that she washed my had very bad leaving A LOT of dye. This caused a very painful itching after only 2-3 hours after the appointment was finished and the last time this itching continued for two weeks. Okay, she has only 3-4 years of experience, I get it, mistakes happen. I thought that I would talk to her about this and it will be better
Yesterday was my last appointment. I addressed my concerns in a very polite manner, she tried to break my speech answering that it’s the dye that is so strong or the bleach causes the irritation and she is not sure it can be fixable. I told her that I have years of experience and never had this problem before. I’m just asking her to wash my head more thoroughly. She agreed to try
Well, the issue seemed resolved, she have bleached my roots and the part she fucked up before, washed my hair and started to blow drying it before dyeing. During the blow drying part I felt that she holds the blow dryer too close to my head again (mind you, when it’s just hot I remain silent, I say something only when I can’t bear the pain), I again asked her very politely to hold it a bit further
In response she started to raise her voice (not screaming) telling me how it irritates her that I have sensitive skin and I always say that it’s too hot, to painful or that I have allergic reaction. She said it’s uncomfortable for her to work like this with me and this is the last time [she allows me to say things like that]. She said that next time things will be different
I was shocked and said that I didn’t choose to have sensitive skin or get an allergic reaction. What should I have to do? To shut up when I’m in unbearable pain or have an allergy?
She responded only that she is uncomfortable with me and her other clients never have this problem
I said okay and sat completely silent and shocked knowing I will never be back as it was the last nail in the coffin
She dyed my hair, washed it again (surprisingly, she did it the exact way I asked for) and dried it. During drying she once again held the blow dryer so close to my head that I had to tilt in other direction from her in absolute pain and put my cold fingers on that place for a half a minute. She just remained silent looking more irritated and started to hold the blow dryer too far like on purpose
After she finished I paid for the service, came back home and blocked her. I never want to see her again or interact with her
Now, to my question: my husband said that blocking her was an overreaction, and I could just unfollowed her (she didn’t follow me). He didn’t say that in any rude way or so, just his opinion. I didn’t think I overreacted, but maybe I did? Idk, what do you think? Am I wrong in my reaction?
submitted by That-Bumblebee1495 to TwoHotTakes [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 14:01 Zappingsbrew A post talking about 400 words

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2024.05.14 11:37 TrainerSolid8519 4 Must Have Wig Accessories To Style Your Bob Wigs.

4 Must Have Wig Accessories To Style Your Bob Wigs.
wig case
Styling your bob wigs to perfection requires the right tools and accessories to ensure they look flawless and maintain their quality. From cleaning to styling and storage, having the essential wig accessories can make a significant difference in how your bob wigs look and feel.
In this blog post, we will explore four must-have wig accessories that are essential for styling your bob wigs with ease and finesse.

Wig Shampoo

A high-quality wig shampoo is essential for keeping your bob wigs clean, fresh, and free from product build-up. Regularly washing your wigs with a gentle shampoo designed for synthetic hair can help maintain their shine and softness.

Wig Case

Protect your bob wigs when not in use with a dedicated wig case. A wig case helps prevent tangling, dust accumulation, and damage, ensuring that your wigs remain in top condition for longer periods.

Wig Spray by Brandywine

Brandywine's wig spray is a versatile accessory for styling your bob wigs. These sprays offer hold, shine, and manageability, allowing you to create various looks while keeping your wig looking its best.

Wig Hair Spray

A wig hair spray is a must-have for setting your bob wig style in place. It helps maintain the desired look, adds volume, and ensures that your wig stays flawless throughout the day.
By incorporating these four essential wig accessories into your styling routine, you can elevate the appearance of your bob wigs, keep them in excellent condition, and achieve the perfect style every time.
submitted by TrainerSolid8519 to u/TrainerSolid8519 [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 10:23 Gldfsh_vinillaCronch Chapter thirteen

Chapter thirteen ~Kayara~
They had to ride through grass fields so tall and unruly that even their ponies, easily twelve hands high, were struggling. Only an hour or two more and they would be back in the Elven territories.
Anataya led. Flanked by her guard and her lady in waiting. The kid took up the rear and Kayara had to fight to not look behind her to make sure he was ok and still there. She could hear his pony trying to feast on the grass and the glorious wildflowers, and that would have to be enough. She knew it would only cause upset if she were to bruise his ego as such.
They had seen glorious sunsets and pitch black nights, steep grass-slick hills and uneven forests. The others seemed quite up to the task and readily familiar with camping. With killing their meal. With sleeping on the hard ground.
She had spent the night in a jail cell before, but there had been fresh straw and a blanket. She was indeed glad that it was a warmer season or she surely would have frozen to death thanks to the princesses scheme!
“What’s with that face?” Asked Tyren, a wolfish grin at the ready. She rode her gelding with the proficiency of a soldier. Hers was the only pony that could keep its head up when riding through the tall grasses. The rest of them had to keep their calm and keep a stern, short rein.
“I’m hungry.” Kayara said simply. “You didn’t want the hare that I caught for you!” The boy chirped up behind them. It had looked like a much meaner version of the pet she had kept as a child. Its eyes were so the same as the fluffy piebald bunny she had once adored. She thought back to the now vacant cage in her room. The hand painted river rock that had been made upon her death. Seventeen year old Kayara had horrid penmanship but hadn't been bad with a paintbrush.
She had buried the bunny in the family's pet cemetery just off the main garden, right below her window. The rock was painted with various pinks and purples and yellows. The colors of energy that floated over the bunny when she pet it. Like static on a blanket.
“We should be nearing the city by tomorrow afternoon. If that helps.” Tyren offered. Her eyes were so cold. As if no emotion flickered behind them, so at odds with the olive branch she voiced.
“Thank you Tyren.”
Houses and farms began popping up in clusters, like the fungus on the trees in the woods. They were built in the style of elven homes. Three stories high and dome shaped. Elven country homes were more like live-in garden centers. Massive living walls of braided living cedar formed the exterior and wildflowers grew out of the cracks. Some of the bigger homes had towers protruding, miniature tree castles amongst the most luscious gardens.
“For the last time, we are not going to steal from my people.” Ana said with a voice that threatened violence. No bullshit, no stealing, she wouldn't have it.
“Ana, they'd likely offer you their food if we rode closer to their homes. Close enough that they could see who you are.”
“I said no. If you don’t drop it I will have you whipped when we return.” Anataya said slowly, anger burning in each word spat. Then suddenly kicked her pony into a faster pace. Then faster again and again; grass and dirt from the road flying into Kayara and Tyrens faces and nearly spooking their own equestrians out of control.
They gave chase and found the princess heading towards the fields below a wealthy man's mini palace. You could tell he was an old wealth by the way they grew their fields in circles with trees and flowers that had specific old timey jobs in the garden.
Anataya ran into a corn and bean field. Sunflowers, growing in bunches, stood tall and bright against the cobalt blue skies. Onion flowers were blooming in the underbrush. Likely other crops could be found in the field but Ana was racing ahead into the center where the tangles of beans and such grew the thickest. Then she stopped.
She hopped off her pony and stood for a moment in the center of the now partially trampled field. Then she collapsed to her knees. Tyren rolled her eyes hard as she banked her pony to a stop near the now hysterical princess. Ana wept and screamed and dug at the dirt. Kayara jumped down from her pony in sync with Tyren, and the two of them tried to hoist the princess to her feet. To no avail, Anataya was too far gone into madness to register their words.
A Violet Corona of light began to bleed into sight before Kayaras eyes. It wrapped around the princesses crown as if it was such. Illuminating the man who appeared in the corn and vines, flashlights and shotgun at the ready. Dogs were being held back by another man. Both were Elves, old and wealthy looking. “The Princess- Braeden the Crowned Princess is in our garden!” “Yes Olh K see that.” The one with the gun, lowered the weapon and nodded at his partner to make the dogs stand down. A whistle and the barking ceased. A stray yap came from the tiny brown dog carried by the third man that came into view with another source of truly very bright light. He was clearly the one in charge. He wore a simple pair of baggy trousers and a tight fitting top. An army issued long sleeves meant to endure cold temperatures. Kayara recognized it because her fathers eldest son had been issued the same one.
His silver chain, a bear head pendant, violet eyes. This was a high ranking officer in Antayas dead brother's army. Fucking hells.
Ana stopped crying at the sight of the necklace. On the back of the head would be the officer's information, although it wasn’t really needed. That pendent was named in stories and songs. Kayara had once seen an opera about the living hero, the mantatur slayer and peace keeper of his own kind. The Great Grizzly of Craephen— and this man before them was one of his main commanders. Maybe an advisor!
“Geraeld!” Ana said as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Antay?” Getaeld seemed to be at a loss for words.
Kayara had no idea what to do or where to look as the princess rushed to embrace the man. He held her awkwardly as the dog in his one hand tried to wiggle free. “It has been so long!”
“Not long enough princess.”
“Geri, you know her?” The one holding four big dogs on fine leather leashes, he held them with a farmers grip but his hair and his robes spoke only of wealth.
The other man, the one with the gun now uncocked and limp in his arms; he said “what are you doing here?”
Maybe he was in charge. His unbuttoned trousers and puffed up boxers told Kayara he was the first to be up and alert that there was something going on in his backyard. The one with the little dog passed it to the shotgun guy and strode forward to assess the damage to his property. “You’ve terrorized my boyfriend's property and terrified our dogs. What do you have to say for this, your majesty?”
“I am so terribly sorry Geri… Geri, please forgive me Geri.” The princess dropped to her knees and widened her eyes at him, hands clasping together at her chin.
“You are a child, Majesty.” He glared but yanked her to her feet, hauling her away to his boyfriend’s house. “I shall take you home. Follow me.” The princess began stumbling and pushing him or tripping him up and so, with a heavy and exhausted sigh, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Like a sack of potatoes! The princess proceeded to prop herself up on her elbows and smirk at the amassed crowd. She looked directly at Kayara and winked! Kayara could have sworn the woman's back arched up a notch…
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2024.05.14 09:43 Thenn_Applicant Dorian Merryweather, Lord of Longtable + AC

Reddit Account: u/Thenn_Applicant
Discord Tag: Garin
Name and House: Dorian Merryweather
Age: 49
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Dorian's chestnut brown hair has been greying for quite a while, however is short beard retains more color, including a few stray red hairs peppered throughout it. While his features have softened and gained some pudge as he aged past his prime, he remains in overall good shape. This is partly due to his great love of gardening and crop cultivation, which have left his hands and nails rather rough.
Trait: Numerate
Skills: Avaricious (e), Architect, Administrator, Investor
Talents: Language (High Valyrian) Cooking, Gardening
Negative Trait: N/A
Starting Title: Lord of Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Biography:
It has been said; men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war. As such, it begs the question, what does a man have left when he finally tires of war? In pursuit of an answer, of any answer, one half of Dorian Merryweather’s life was spent. He was the second son of Lord Arthor Merryweather of Longtable. Like many others born in a place of natural abundance, he longed for more, for something greater than a mere provincial estate. The tourneys of Highgarden, the hunts of Horn Hill and the books of Oldtown all called to him, and so he could never ride past his father’s mild and verdant fields fast enough. Dorian counted himself lucky not to be the heir, for that meant he could pick where his future lay, unchained from the uninspiring home of his childhood. Instead it was his older brother, Bennard, who envied his free-flying lifestyle, contriving any excuse to join him on his escapades and agurk lessons and ceremonies he ought to have attended.
Lord Arthor was fairly permissive of this deriliction of duties, as the friendships forced on such journeys were worth more than lessons that could be repeated later, or tasks that could be handed off to lowborn stewards. The boys attended tourneys, balls, hunts and feasts, living the life the bards extolled as the height of reachman’s chivalry. The one time they did not shirk their duties was when their father had the honor of hosting King Mern and his court for a tourney on the Warrior’s day. The Merryweather sons would present the king and his family with silver bowls of dilligrout, a most exquisite stew of capons, white wine and almond milk. They had the joy of tasting it once the Gardeners had their fill, a taste they would never forget. On the tournament field three days later, Mern knighted them both, though Dorian was only sixteen at the time, green as a knight could ever be.
Five years later, as news of Aegon Targaryen and his early conquests spread, the lords of the Reach were summoned to Goldengrove, where they found a veritable forest of Westermen’s banners being planted beside their own. The fall of the Storm Kings had led to a whirlwind of diplomacy between the houses of Gardener and Lannister. The plan was presented to the lords with the two kings sitting beside one another on the dais as though they were brothers. They held up Aegon’s letter of demands, scornfully reading it aloud and then proceeded to tear it up to a roaring acclamation from the hall. Standing there before the hall, Mern could hardly be called the Warrior incarnate. There stood a man well past his prime, old enough to be a grandfather and with no great victories to his name, in battle or on the tourney field. All the same, this man, whom they called their king, always seemed to know exactly what to say to win someone over. If he’d declared war on hell itself that evening, the Merryweather brothers would probably still have marched off with him when the next morning dawned. Bennard and Dorian shouted as loud as anyone, death to the foreign upstart. That evening were betrothed to westerwomen they’d never met before, made plans for a real battle, which they had never fought in before, and drank, ate and sang as though the night would last forever. House Merryweather was not able to secure a command, yet King Mern remembered his stay at Longtable fondly. He gave Bennard and Dorian a place in the vanguard, and even adorned Bennard with a brooch of the order of the green hand the morning before the army Goldengrove, a momentous honor which Bennard would cherish for the remainder of his days. He did not have many left, as it turned out. The Field of Fire began like a dream, as the two brothers rode off at the break of dawn, two out of five thousand sets of gleaming armor atop proud warhorses. By the end of the day it had become a nightmare. Caught up in the maelstrom of battle, Dorian did not see the moment when their loss was assured, but the Gods know he could hear it, the creeping, hungry flames that descended on the reachmen like an army of its own. As hundreds were broiled inside their steel plate and thousands more choked on the inferno’s horrible vanguard of black smoke, Bennard and Dorian broke and fled. They were not far behind the retreating Loren Lannister in their escape, but half a minute made all the difference. The lines of fire fanned out, hunting more living things to devour, and engulfed the two brothers. Dorian could feel how the flames spread from his surcoat to his undershirt, all the way down to the hairs on his chest, beginning to sear his skin. In a desperate act he threw himself in the Blackwater, and would have perished if not for the shoddy work of his squire that morning, which left him able to tear off his plate before he could sink. With bloodied, burn-marked fingers, he clung to the roots of a tree by the riverside, water up to his chest. He was retrieved after some time, how long he could not say. For the next two moons his mind was adrift, distracted from his pains by milk of the poppy. The next two were far worse, as he grew more lucid and realized the extent of the damage. A burn-mark stretched from his right thigh, all the way up his chest and left bicep to the apple of his neck. Many times over, flakes of dead or dying skin had to be peeled off by the maester as the scabs kept bursting with blood and clear liquid. By the end of that year he was able to walk again, though the burn mark would leave a feverish red mark across the front of his body, his new skin settling into twisted lines.
Bennard was far worse for wear, alive yet burned all the way to his face and crippled from a fall off his horse. His nose and ear-lobes had to be cut off, too burned to save, and even his eyelids were permanently scarred, unable to sprout new lashes. The more lucid Bennard became, the deeper his sorrow. Eventually he began refusing food. The new lord of Longtable would not eat anything his cooks set in front of him. In spite of his ever present pains, Dorian began going to the kitchens, reprimanding the cooks for their failings. He knew his brother well and knew his palette, and began ordering them to make his brother’s favorites. When he felt they were making mistakes, he interrupted their work himself. He was a stranger to the kitchen, yet would criticize how things were cut too roughly, spiced too little or too much. He was a terror to the cooks, yet they could not refuse him.
His attempts to intervene were however hampered by a newfound aversion to heat. The sound of the hearth, of boiling and searing, the general sense of warmth around him made him nauseous and caused his movements to seize up. Still, he went to his brother’s bedside every day, and afterwards he forced himself back to the kitchens. His sister, Lydia, tried to stop him at first, but soon found her protes fell on deaf ears, and so joined him, if only to leash him in when he went too far. Finally, there was only one dish they hadn’t tried; the dilligrout they’d once served to the late King Mern. Every time it was made, it came out wrong. It soon turned out the cook who had served them that evening six years ago had since retired, and his exact method had never been recorded or taught to anyone else. Dorian would first invite the man to Longtable, then summon him with armed knights when invitations were refused.
Theomar, the man who appeared before him, was a sorry sight, looking frightened and confused as he was taken to his old workplace. It was explained by his sons that he’d been growing senile even six years ago, often snapping at the kitchen maids under him when his memory failed him. Since then he’d gotten worse, seldom eating, let alone cooking. Something in the old man’s eyes did seem to brighten for a moment when the sounds and smells of his old kitchen surrounded him, and Dorian ordered him to make dilligrout. Before long that faint spark had been drowned out by tears. He would start boiling capon or crushing almonds, only to leave the job half-done whenever he had to fetch something new. Serving maids were put at his disposal to bring him ingredients, yet an ingredient ordered would be met with a reprimand as he seemed to forget which dish he was making every few minutes. Finally Dorian snapped at the man, grabbing him by his collar and shouting accusations of treason against House Merryweather. By the time Lydia could restrain him and try to apologize, the man was a wreck on the floor. After watching it for a while, waiting for the man to get up and continue his work, even Dorian was overcome by pity and shame for what he’d done. The old cook was praying to the gods, begging forgiveness for his failings. Dorian began to realize he’d broken a great man down and would himself beg forgiveness. He offered the man his old cook’s quarters back for the rest of his life, and promised his sons that his maester would tend to the man in his old age, that he would be fed from Longtable’s stores.
At this point, he resolved to make the dilligrout himself. Through it all, Bennard was barely clinging to life, or rather being tethered to it by the will of others. He could only be fed when drugged down by the milk of the poppy, and the more often it was used, the less effective it became. Every day Dorian braved the kitchens, yet he could not recreate the flavor of that wonderful night. It was by the grace of the gods, perhaps with Theomar as their vessel, that Dorian would even come close. The old man could no longer cook, but over time he began to wander into the kitchens and sit down on a chair. At first Dorian thought the man only sought the warmth of the hearth for his weary bones, yet he discovered it to be more than that. Theomar’s eyes were like clouded glass, yet they brightened every now and then, hearing almonds being ground, smelling capons searing in fat, as though it was stirring the kitchenmaster of yore back to life. Eventually Dorian began to walk up to the old cook with his ingredients, bidding him to smell or taste small portions. Sometimes he got simple instructions out of it, ‘too coarse’, ‘too sour’, ‘underdone’. Som times a mere nod or frown was all Theomar managed. Over the course of a couple of days, Dorian put together one final attempt to get the dish made rightWhen he arrived in Bennard’s chamber, he was met with a look which brought forth discomfort that no flame could produce in Dorian. Plainly, raspingly, his brother asked him why he wouldn’t let him die. It was easy, Bennard reasoned. All Dorian needed to do was wait and become lord. The words almost made Dorian throw the dilligrout on the floor. Almost. He placed two bowls on Bennard’s table, the dilligrout and one brimming with milk of the poppy. Dorian told his brother to make his choice. If he sought death, Dorian would let him, but he would not hear that it was an easy thing, watching his brother die. That evening, the milk of the poppy was carried away by the maester, the empty bowl of stew taken to be washed in the kitchens. From then on, Bennard ate what his brother brought him without complaint. He lasted just into the new year, dying on its tenth day. In the predawn gloom of the twelfth, Theomar died in his sleep
Dorian took up his lordly task joylessly. His old wanderlust returned, spurred by the horrible memories that now stained Longtable and the reach itself in his mind. The final straw came when their new Tyrell overlords, insisted on him marrying a lady from a dornish house. His previous betrothal had fallen through, as the parents of his western bride had not wished to draw the ire of the Targaryens by maintaining an old alliance meant to oppose them. Instead of obliging, he boarded a ship from Oldtown going east. It stopped only briefly in Planky Town before going to Tyrosh. Noting him to be a nobleman, a few of the city’s wealthy men would host him for a while, though they quickly lost interest when his lack of knowledge of trade became apparent. After that, he spent time in the markets and squares where the common people lived. His old curiosity was piqued, and he decided to embark on a quest of learning, fashioning himself another Lomas Longstrider. He moved on to Myr, and the experience was much the same in broad strokes, a few rich men showed interest and quickly lost it. As he’d visited the dye markets he went to see the city’s famous artisans at work. One thing was notably different, he met a Tyroshi woman with green-dyed hair, going by the name Maryah. She was a trader, and the two had taken the same ship to Myr. She had been to Myr before and showed him many of its secrets. They spent an entire day in one of the vast delicacy markets so she could show him the many tastes of the city. Having no plans in advance, he asked where she was headed next.
Without a second thought he would join her on a journey to Lys. He soon understood it to be a test. It was not long before she teased him, speculating he’d only joined her for a chance to see the famous pleasure houses. Evening after evening they stayed in the city and Maryah would tease and test him over the matter. Finally he told her he’d renounce his betrothal for her, that there was no one else in his eye. She laughed, replying he would not have to. The next morning, Dorian awoke to find that she was already up, the green washed from her black curls. Maryah had in fact been Joanna Dayne, his dornish bride to be, having traveled the same route as him ever since his ship stopped at Planky Town to refill its food and water. She was already quite familiar with the three closest free cities, having served as a dornish envoy on behalf of its spice traders. As they planned their return to Westeros, Joanna asked him what else in the world he wanted to see. Within a few moons of being wed, they left Westeros, not to return for three years.The journey was what his mind needed, away from the Reach, its knights and tapestries, hunts and tourneys. Ultimately, the lords and knights of his homeland, for all their songs and poetry, lived every day in preparation for war, frivolous though the preparations were. Joanna showed him a different world, the remnants of Old Valyria. War was to be sure inescapable. Wherever they went, there were soldiers, tapestries, contests of arms, and yet the cities housed something else as well, a boundless potential for creation, commerce and growth.
Thanks to Joanna Dayne’s knowledge their stays became far better planned, and they could enjoy the hospitality of wealthy locals far longer. She knew how to talk about the spice trade and similar matters, and Dorian began to pick up on it. On their second stay in Myr, he procured a great deal of fine parchment and began taking notes, everything from negotiation tactics and the prices of cloves or red peppers to court customs, as well as more eclectic pieces of knowledge, details of running an eastern estate, descriptions of technological marvels he had never seen in Westeros, and ingredients in the local food. By the time they neared Qarth he had quite the list of recipes, among other things. There he was even able to learn a few all the way from Yi Ti, as some local cooks catered to merchants from the Golden Empire. On their journey home they’d end up taking the opportunity to see the newly made port of King’s Landing. By that time, a third member had joined their journey, their infant daughter Florys. Having left Longtable in the care of his sister and steward for three years, Dorian finally accepted the responsibility of running his ancestral home.
Longtable was considered to rule over some of the best lands in the Reach, ideally situated along the river with abundant soil which could provide two grain harvests in a year. Having seen the estates which supplied the great cities of the east, Dorian was all too aware of its comparative shortcomings. He found that the abundance of the land had a counterproductive effect, breeding complacency and carelessness. From his grandiose tour of the east, he went on a painstaking tour of his own lands, trying to get an overview of everything he ruled over. He paid the citadel a fee to send him half a dozen maesters in training for a season. These young men, literate and numerate, would serve his own maester in conducting a survey of the land, giving Dorian account of all resources at his disposal as lord. The results were quite varied.
Some peasants were found to have remarkable agricultural insights which they had no way of writing down, entirely reliant on passing the knowledge to their children. Knowing the risks of such a method of transferring knowledge, Dorian ordered such insights recorded. In other places there were farmers and communities who were unwittingly exhausting their soil. Instances of lack of fallow land, excessive grazing by cows and lack of crop rotation were also made note of, followed by edicts against such heedless practices. Septons, sheriffs and tax collectors were given written copies and were obliged to read them to the peasantry wherever it was deemed necessary. It also became part of the obligations of farmers to plant a set amount of clover in their fields and pastures, a practice some had taken up on their own but which had already become a standardized law among the estates belonging to Myr and Volantis. Irrigation was expanded and land inheritance was reformed to prevent the splitting of fields past a certain threshold.
Lord Dorian was not always successful. Some eastern ideas had been useful innovations which improved conditions across the board. In time he learned that the peculiarities of the westerosi system were sometimes necessary for the sake of stability, not merely the misshapen fruits of ignorance. His attempt to enclose part of the common lands proved abortive, as it nearly caused a peasant rebellion. A procession of aggrieved smallfolk headed for Longtable had to be dispersed by knights, armed with wooden clubs to prevent needless bloodshed.Two men were hanged and five sent to the wall, but the reform was thereafter abandoned, leading the populace to calm down. Dorian was not much of a military leader and had not wielded weapons since the Field of Fire. He became aware of his need to bolster his forces, a notion reinforced by the establishment of the Black Roses not long after his return, and again with the Kingswood Catastrophe
In the meantime, he and Joanna raised a family together. Three more daughters would be born healthy, with a couple of miscarriages and a stillbirth in between, also a daughter. Their travels did not entirely come to an end. In 13 AC they would tour the northern free cities of Norvos, Qohor, Pentos, Braavos and Lorath, which they had missed on their original journey. The lion’s share of 17 AC was spent on a journey to the Summer Islands. At other times they would make shorter journeys around the Seven Kingdoms, where they felt more secure in bringing their older children along. Whether it was visiting Joanna’s family in Dorne, tourneys and feasts in the Reach and West or even one trip to see the wall, a nameday wish by Florys, they were often on the move. Like most of their peers, they frequented Oldtown and Highgarden
The growing rift between the two queens and their children was a situation Dorian would watch with dread in his heart, remembering keenly how a generation of young men had been brought to the field of fire. To his mind, the Targaryen rule ought not go to waste. Like Valyria of old, it had begun with fire and blood, yet similarly peace and prosperity had followed in its wake. If only the dragons could stand united, perhaps another long peace like the one the Freehold once enjoyed could again be established. If not, another century of blood was upon them. Under Dorian, Longtable became a place where he sought to bring together people from across the kingdoms and forge unity over the dinner table, an attitude which somewhat vexed and confounded his more militaristic daughter and heiress, Lady Florys. Even amid her questioning of the viability of his peaceful ways when surrounded by those who would make war, a terrible sight would steel his resolve, watching the Mander burning green, every bit as terrible as the flames from twenty one years prior. That night he made a simple vow, never again.
The League of the Cornucopia, he would name his little group, a gallery of lords and ladies whose acquaintances he’d made over the years. With these fellow gourmets he would share the culinary knowledge he’d gleaned from his journeys in the east and west. Most unusual for a lord of his rank, Dorian came to spend a great deal of time in his kitchens, testing out recipes himself. On occasion, the dishes he served to his guests for these small, intimate gatherings would be the work of his own hands. The membership did vary from time to time, both based on who could make it and who he sought to bring together. Rather than a fully closed circle, the League is more like a form of feasting, only it’s done for a much smaller crowd, without the public spectacle. Such occasions allowed for more refined foods which did not need to be served to hundreds and kept constantly warm over the course of hours like some common tavern stew. It also opened up an arena of more intimate diplomacy and negotiation for those who sought it, hosted on neutral ground by a lordly mediator, free from prying eyes.
Timeline:
25BC: Dorian is born, second in line to Longtable
24BC: His sister Lydia is born
9BC: House Merryweather hosts House Gardener for a tourney and feast. Dorian and his older brother Bennard serve the dish of honor to King Mern Gardener and his family. During the subsequent tourney, Mern knights both boys, despite their inexperience and lack of victory in the tourney
9BC-2BC: Dorian spends much time travelling the reach, attending events
1BC: Dorian and Bennard fight in the vanguard at the Field of Fire. Both are burned, Bennard far more severely than Dorian. Lord Merryweather is killed. Traumatized by the battle and his new maimed body, Bennard starts refusing food. Dorian desperately tries to re-create the dish they served King Mern eight years ago. The cook who made it has since gone senile, but eventually manages to help Dorian re-create it. He is given a place at court as apology for his mistreatment at Dorian's hands before this occurred.
1AC: Lord Bennard dies at the beginning of the year, leaving Dorian as lord of Longtable. His sister Lydia fulfills her betrothal to House Tarly, becoming lady of Horn Hill. At the prospect of marrying a Dornishwoman on the King's orders, Dorian decides to leave Westeros to put off his marriage. In Myr, he meets a woman calling herself Maryah, claiming to be a Tyroshi merchant. They fall in love and travel to Lys together. There Dorian promises to set aside his betrothal for her, whereupon she reveals herself as Joanna Dayne, his dornish betrothed.
1AC-4AC: Dorian and Joanna wed at Longtable, then depart on a new journey of the east. They reach as far as Qarth before turning back home. In 3AC, on the way back, their first child, Florys, is born while the couple are in Volantis, on the way home. They return via the newly built port of King's Landing.
4AC-8AC: Using knowledge from the east, Lord Dorian embarks on a project of rationalizing the agriculture of Longtable
5AC: Dorian and Joanna have their second child, a girl named Ellyn
8AC: Their third daughter, Desmera, is born
13AC: Dorian and Joanna spend a year travelling the northern free cities
14AC: Their fourth and final daughter, Gwin, is born
17AC: Dorian and Joanna undertake a journey to the Summer Islands with their children
23AC: The aftermath of the battle of Stonebridge brings back memories of the Field of Fire, as the Merryweathers watch burning slag run down the Mander
25AC: The Merryweathers travel to the celebration of the maturity of Aegon's sons
Family Tree:
Arthor Merryweather (father, d.1BC)
Cerelle Merryweather (pending family connection) (mother, d.20AC)
Rhea Merryweather (sister b.27BC)
Bennard Merryweather (brother, d.1AC)
Lydia Merryweather (sister, b.24BC)
Glendon Merryweather (uncle, d.1BC)
Myrcella Pommingham (aunt, d.22AC)
Leo Merryweather (cousin, b.13AC)
Joanna Dayne (wife, b.26AC)
Florys Merryweather (daughter, b.3AC)
Ellyn Merryweather (daughter, b.5AC)
Desmera Merryweather (daughter, b.8AC)
Gwin Merryweather (daughter, b.13AC)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Auxiliary Character:
Name and House: Florys Merryweather
Age: 23
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: [A short, muscular woman with wavy black hair, normally worn in a bun. She has high cheekbones and a proud demeanor. Her rigid strength stands in contrast to the more relaxed nature of the Merryweather court, one she finds overly lax and casual](0_0.png (896×1344) (discordapp.com))
Trait: Hale
Skills: Swords (e), Essosi Blademaster
Talents: Dancing, Fishing, Cooking
Negative Traits: N/A
Starting Title: Heir to Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Timeline:
3AC: Florys is born in Volantis, while her parents are on their way home from Essos
10AC: Florys starts training under Saathos Trevelyan, her father's Master at Arms
13 AC: She joins her parents on a tour of Pentos, Braavos, Norvos and Qohor
17AC: She travels with her parents to the Summer Islands
19AC-23AC: As she comes of age, Florys becomes more critical of her father's desire for peace, viewing it as increasingly far-fetched amid the increasingly controversial regency and the impending succession dispute. She resolves to make the kinds of connections her father seems unwilling to, in case of war
25AC: She accompanies her family to the celebrations
NPCS:
Ser Leo Merryweather (Age: 37, Archetype: Magnate) Lord Merryweather's first cousin, he has become an indispensable agent in the daily running of Longtable. Despite his foppish demeanor and aparent laziness, he is highly capable and loyal in his task of increasing his family's fortune. He remains happily unwed
Saathos Tevelyan: (Age:48, Archetype: Master at Arms) The son of a Lysene father and a Myrish mother, Saathos initially sought a career in amongst Myr's military officers, however his family's relatively low status proved an impediment to further promotion, later compounded by a dispute with a superior. He met Lord Merryweather in 3AC and eventually travelled West to offer his services five years later, finding his career progress stonewalled in his home city. Well into middle age, he still looks firm and imposing as profesisonal a soldier ought to
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2024.05.14 09:18 No-Guitar-5156 to the geeked gay dude next to us at limp bizkit!!!

you had long curly ish hair with faded purple/green/blue dye. you had very thin eyeliner and a septum piercing. you were wearing a cropped tank top, and asked my boyfriend if you could trade a hit off your cart for a hit of his nic. you were with and older woman. you also mentioned you were gay. my boyfriend declined the cart offer but i ripped it and MAN was that show out of this fuckin world. you were SO cool, we wish we got your name. we were near the middle of the crowd, but more towards the front and off to the left a bit i believe. i hope i find you!!!
submitted by No-Guitar-5156 to welcometorockville [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 07:13 ohiocitydave Bob is a genuine nice dude

At kilby block party yesterday and I had to run back to my hotel after GBV’s set and before LCD Soundsystem. Lo and behold, as I’m heading back to the party, I’m walking out of my hotel and I see a guy talking to the hotel’s valet…a guy with the unmistakable hair of one Bob Pollard. I’m not someone who approaches artists, I can count the number of times on half of one hand in multiple decades, but this seemed like an ok moment to shake the hand of the guy whose band has meant a ton to this son-of-Ohio over 25 years of my life. And so I did and he was the absolute kindest, most sincere guy a fan could ask for. I did ask for a selfie after telling him how much I loved his music and nervously blathered on about my time in Cleveland, Kent state, other Ohio things, and general gushing fan-like topics and he was sincerely cool about all of it. The whole experience absolutely made my weekend and I’ll be eternally grateful for it. And what’s also incredibly telling I feel is that after talking with Bob, I went and sat on the bench to wait for my Lyft back to the party and the valet, unprompted and with whom I never interacted as I did not have a car with the hotel, came over after seeing me talking with the frontman-extraordinaire and shared his own experience, essentially saying he’d seen a lot of celebrities come through his workplace and it wasn’t uncommon for them to be, let’s just say standoffish -which I am not not understanding of I want to say given the situation they’re often in - but not, “that guy…[Bob] stood out as being just a genuine nice dude.” Here here! Thanks for being a real one, Bob, and for crushing Kilby. Perhaps I’ll see you at the Grog Shop for my birthday like we discussed.
submitted by ohiocitydave to GBV [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 04:57 Cutiesaurs My scrapped SVTFOE movie script

This is my incomplete SVTFOE the movie script. Until my friend thomasmfd convince me to scrap it here’s my incomplete SVTFOE the movie script.
Star Vs. The Forces of Evil the forces of evil the movie The film with a song called Empire of the Sun Walking on a dream while the camera pans down on a mural with the credits rolling by and hits the floor showing a Blue man with a blue sword wearing a Space helmet and a orange Tee shirt with black spots all over his shirt. Who is protecting the Empress of the Sun Hestia look who has Red hair and Red eyes and wears a White Kimono with red spots. Just then a group of people wearing brown robes and white masks are led by a bald creepy dude with a Scar on his right eye. He approaches the throne and begins to speak.
The creepy dude My majesty My name is Bob and my group are a bunch of nomads who travel from World to world gathering intel and giving them to each kingdom and we heard rumors about Cataclysm prison weakening. And we would like to have your Sword Empress of the sun. So we can use it to defeat Cataclysm.
Bob walks up the steps before Cutie's sword hangs by his neck stopping him.
Bob What’s the meaning of this guard!?
Cutiesaurs: The name is Cutiesaurs or Cutie for short. Bob Okay Cutie. Why did you stop me!?
Cutiesaurs Because I don’t trust you. Besides, Shady people are always up to no good.
Bob It’s for your own protection so let me through. Besides it is rumored that The Sun Sword is the only sword left.
Cutiesaurs I don’t Care the Gods hid those swords for protection from thieves like you, including the Fable Mew sword. Besides, it appears you want to use the empress sword to find the other swords.
Bob Well you two figure out my plan already so I guess I have no option but to take it from force.
Just then Bob uses his magic spell to pull out his sword and he and his minions begin to attack. Cutie and Molly try to fight back but it is too much for them and get captured and Bob’s minions capture Hestia as Bob grabs the sword and glances at it.
Bob This Sword is a decoy. (Bob then shatters it with his magic) Minions drag Cutie to the Castle dungeon while carry Hestia to that special place)
Cutie struggles against the minions' control while they drag him to the dungeon. Cut to five years later and we see Cutie shirtless hung up in the dungeon walls shirtless wearing only his pants and a piece of cloth covering his head except his eyes. Then Bob and his cultist.
Bob Well Cutie it’s been five years and still you won’t tell us where the Real Empress sword is!
Cutiesaur
Like I said for the last five years I don’t know.
Bob Well Cutie. I don’t need you anymore. Not since I detected the Sword of Mew and we’ve set up a trap for the holder of the sword. So Now I will give you this radio to keep you comfortable. I’ve got a queen to catch.
Bob Leaves the dungeon and enters a room which is in some blackish glow surrounded with red hue. At the floor is a star shape enclosed by a circle on the floor. There Bob stands at the edge and raises his hands which then begin to be turning a metallic silver. He begins to wave his hands and a Star shape pattern begins to have a pinkish water swirling around it then when it clears out we see Star Butterfly at the center of the Star pattern.
Bob Hello Princess My name is Bob and you have something that we need. (Bob then materializes some mask’s then drops them on the ground where mud surrounds the mask’s then the mud raises the Mask which then forms into humanoid shape).
Star Butterfly I’m sorry but this Wand isn’t yours to keep.
Star Shoots a Rainbow energy beam at Bob but he blocks it with nothing but his bare Metallic hands.
Bob I’m impressed that the sword has a few tricks up his sleeves. But I’ve had a few tricks up my sleeves myself.
Bob then shoots a sliver beam at Star and pulls out a golden butterfly from her chest and places it into a jar.
Bob I’ve taken your powers. If you want them back, give me your wand. What do you say Star?
Star Butterfly I say Narwhal blast. A large Narwhal appears and slides down destroying many of Bob's minions and then pinning Bob to a wall. She then runs away from the room.
Bob After her she must not escape with that sword.
Star flees Bob’s goons and hides in the dungeon where she begins to hear the song Always look on the bright side of light she follows the sound to a cell where she see’s Cutie hanging from the wall.
Cutiesaurs Hi there little girl, what brings you to this dank little dungeon?
Star Butterfly I’m hiding from a man and his goons who want my wand.
Cutiesaurs Oh Bob yea he wants that wand since it’s the Sword of Mew.
Star Butterfly The Sword of Mew?
Cutiesaurs Let me get out of these chains and find my helmet and shirt and find a safe place before I can explain everything
Cutiesaurus tries to break his chains but with no success.
Star Butterfly Need help?
Cutiesaurs Yeah sure just blast those chain’s
Star uses her wand to blast the chain off of Cutie
Cutiesaurs Thank you… Um I haven’t gotten your name.
Star Butterfly It’s Star Star Butterfly.
Cutiesaurs Why thank you Star. I’m Cutiesaur’s but people call me Cutie for short and I’m the royal guard of the Empress or was before Bob and his golem army took me and put me in this dungeon. Now where is my shirt? Cutie searches everywhere for his shirt until Star shows him his shirt and grabs it and puts it back on.
Cutiesaurs Thanks Star. Now I need my Helmet.
Star Butterfly Why?
Cutiesaurs Because it protects people. Because I was born with a face that is so handsome that it melts people's faces. You wouldn’t want to see people's faces melting. It's nasty.
Star Butterfly Eww. But anyway I think I saw it over there at the bench.
Star points to a bench where we see Cutie Helmet. He then grabs it and puts it on.
Cutiesaus Thanks Star Now we need a plan.
Star Butterfly Um would that involve these guys.
Star points to a group of humanoid creatures wearing black cloaks with hoodies and pale white masks.
Cutiesaurs Looks like the plan is to fight. (He pulls out his blue sword) It’s a good thing this sword is bound to me and no one else.
Star Butterfly I would like to help but that Wizard Bob just stole all my powers.
Cutiesaurs Except for the Sword of Mew
Star Butterfly I keep hearing that my Wand is a sword. How is this possible?
Cutiesaurs You must focus, be one with the wand and think of a burning blade.
Star focuses on it and her wand turns into a burning blade with rainbow fire. She then uses it to defeat Bob's minions.
Star Butterfly Wow this is incredible I didn’t know my wand could do that! How did you know!?
Cutiesaurs It’s a long story but we need a hiding spot and I know one. Follow me.
Cutie drags Star to a long forgotten cellar.
Star Butterfly Wow you sure know your way around the castle.
Cutiesaurs I like to walk around the castle patrolling it in my spare time and also reading books. Which is why I know that wand is a sword that is a key to one of the locks. Of a prison
Star Butterfly What Locks?
Cutiesaurs Let me explain. Long ago before you before me before the kingdom of Mewni before time. Three gods and three goddesses appear. They created the rift then they created time then they created the universe then gave life to them. They taught each creature in the multiverse how to care and love and respect one another. However for order there must be chaos and chaos took the form of Cataclysm. He corrupted everything the gods and goddess did, undoing their work. So they fought back; the battle lasted a thousand year with the records of the events being lost though a few survived. After Cataclysm was weakened the Gods and Goddess locked him up in a prison out of space and out of time. With their own swords. They then gave the six swords to six universe’s. The Sword of Retro, The Sword of the sea, the Sword of sweets, The Sword of reality, The Sword of the sun, finally the Sword of Mewni. They form the kingdoms around the swords. But sadly over time the kingdoms lost knowledge of their past and swords. Except for two. The Kingdom of the Sun saved knowledge of the past and the kingdom of Mewni kept their sword safe. Which is why that wand you have is important; it's the last known sword that prevents the unleashing of Cataclysm.
Star Butterfly Wow I didn’t know my wand was a sword. But it still doesn’t explain how Bob managed to steal my butterfly forum. With some strange magic power.
Cutiesaurs It’s called forum splitting.
Star Butterfly What?
Cutiesaurs Forum splitting it’s a spelical spell that splits someone with transformations and turns their transformation as a spirit. We used it to cure someone from their Werewolf forum.
Star Butterfly Oh. Because my butterfly forum is important to me.
Cutiesaurs I’m sure it is Star.
Cutiesaurus begins to leave Star behind.
Star Butterfly Where are you going Cutie?
Cutiesaurs To find my Empress.
Star Butterfly Don’t you mean queen.
Cutiesaurs They both mean the same thing.
Star Butterfly Okay you’ll do that while I find some help.
Star pulls up her scissors but when she tries to use them they begin to crack and then turn to dust.
Cutiesaurs By the way, scissors are useless in the kingdom of the sun.
Star Butterfly (talking to herself) Great, I can’t get to Mewni or Earth now. Those scissors are my only escape. But maybe Cutie knows another way.
Star races to Cutie
Star Butterfly Hey Cutie I was thinking we can team up to take down Bob.
Cutiesaurs I prefer to work by myself. But thanks for the advice.
Star Butterfly (with her puppy dog eyes) Please!
Cutiesaurs (staring blankly) Your puppy dog eyes have no effect on me. Now would you excuse me? I got a queen to save.
A Cutie walks away Star Butterfly gets a idea
Star Butterfly You said Bob is looking for the six magical swords.
Cutiesaurs And What are you getting at?
Star Butterfly Well we can do what I forget.
Cutiesaurs A barter?
Star Butterfly Yea a barter.
Cutiesaurs By getting the four other swords by doing a trade for the empress then we use our might together to defeat Bob and kill two birds with one stone! I’m such a genius.
Star Butterfly Yes you are so how are you planning on getting to the realms?
Cutiesaurs I have a ship. In an old hanger.
Star Butterfly But how do we get there?
Cutiesaurs Well I know the secret paths around this old castle.
Cutie pulls an old touch handle but discovers it’s the wrong one and then pulls the right one. Which reveals a path which Cutie enters and Star follows behind. It leads to a rusty hanger with a giant shiny red space ship with jet engine thrusters and a jet pilot cockpit.
Cutiesaurs Behold the Gummi ship the most advanced ship in the kingdom, well the only one since all are now scrap. It took me 13 yea… (Notice Star biting the ship) Star what are you doing!?
Star Butterfly You said it’s a Gummi ship and I thought it was made out of gummi’s.
Cutiesaurs I called it the Gummi ship because it looks like it’s made out of gummi. Not made of Gummi.
Star Butterfly Oh. But how would this old thing get us where we are going?
Cutiesaurs Well it takes us to the rift.
Star Butterfly The Rift!? What’s that?
Cutiesaurs It’s like a highway. Star Butterfly What’s that?
Cutiesaurs (I might be too smart for her) It’s where a group of car’s go very fast like a road.
Star Butterfly Oh like a shortcut?
Cutiesaurs (sarcastly) Yes, much like a shortcut. (sarcasm ends) Anyway The rift used to be how one person got from one realm to the other. It was the world that was between realms. However with the invention of technologies and how certain realms like our Kingdom of the sun here isolated themselves. The Rift was no longer used and ships were turned to scrap. Well before I came along and fixed this baby up. Let’s go inside and take a tour and start this baby up.
Cutie and Star enter’s the Gummi ship
Cutiesaurs This ship has everything we need for our trip. It has bed’s and a guest bed for passengers. (in case it was an overnight trip.) A dining room, A kitchen for cooking food, A fireplace. A bookshelf with books throughout the realms is my favorite and finally the cockpit with an autopilot so the captain can do other things and it has a comfy seat with cup holders. It has everything to make you feel right at home. Any questions?
Star Butterfly Yea where is the kitchen sink?
Cutiesaurus then bang his head on the controls
Cutiesaurs I knew I forgot something. I guess I add this on stuff to add to the ship along with weapons. So let’s start this ship up.
Star Butterfly By pressing the big red button. (Star looks for the big red button) where’s the big red button?
Cutiesaurs Yea I did not add one since I don’t want people to be tempted by pushing a big red button. And besides, I don't want to discard myself when I start up the ship. And besides that’s not how you start the ship. (Pulls out the keys) This is how you start the ship
Cutie inserts the keys while the hangar doors open and the ship hovers for a bit before bursting into speed and opening a hole to the rift. But not before Bob and his minions race to the hanger seeing them fly away. The camera fades while Bob quietly makes a grin on his face. The screen then pans to the Gummi ship flying across the rift. Inside Star and Cutie figured out what to do next.
Star Butterfly So um Cutie do you know where the swords are?
Cutiesaurs Well legends say that one of the Swords will reveal the next sword. And since your sword is the only known one I think we’ll start there.
Cutie leads Star to the Bottom of the ship
Cutiesarus This is the map room. Well the only one that functions since this is the only ship that can travel across the rift. Since I have that ship I will navigate our course to where the next sword is.
Star Butterfly How are you gonna to do that? Since you have the knowledge and I have magic.
Cutiesaurs Correct Star but I have an idea. If you cast magic on your wand then it should act like a beacon. That only the swords will hear pinpointing its location. Thus selecting the location and flying to grab it. Any questions?
Star Butterfly Yes, one. I didn’t know Bacon could do that.
Cutiesaurs (Talking to himself) Sometimes I wonder if my kind is too advanced for people who look like they didn’t pass the middle ages.
Cutiesaurs No it’s not. After this read my books. Just use your magic
Star Butterfly I’m gonna create puppies that shoot laser beams.
Cutiesaurs I was thinking of dynamite with a laser beam but your idea sounds fair enough. (Though I must give someone a box of puppies when we land. Because one puppy is enough for me to handle for me right now.
submitted by Cutiesaurs to cartoons [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 04:33 remidragon Ramielust Tank: A Review

Where I live the heat and humidity can be brutal, and this year spring is already cooking. So how chuffed was I when Outlier sent me a ramielust tank to test. For the last couple of weeks I’ve been wearing it into the ground. I wanted to really test it, so I leaned into it a bit more than I generally would. At this point it’s seen eight full days of wear (and a cpl partial), has been washed five times, slept in, worked out in, dressed up (a bit), tugged on by a small child and a small-legged dog, and is still in one piece. I know this form, in this fabric, has been highly anticipated by many (myself included) - so here’s what I’ve got:
submitted by remidragon to Outlier [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 03:26 idiom6 How would you handle a Phineas (Phineas & Ferb) style model, where the front-view is cursed?

I'm sketching out a design that looks best from the side, like Phineas, though even Phineas has a few frames where he's cursedly front-facing.
Do you set up your streaming workspace so that your IRL body and head always face off at an angle? Do you rig that front frame and hope it never appears for long in stream? Do you decide to scrap the design and try for one that has better angles all round?
(I'm not actually doing a Disney design, Phineas's triangle was just the most obvious design that came to mind. Or something like Ran's stylized hair horn from Detective Conan that gets weird physics or closeup crops in the anime whenever her head has to rotate.)
submitted by idiom6 to Live2D [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 03:19 mike5201 [LFA] Shadowrun thembo elf

Hi all!
I'm new to this so sorry if the formatting sucks.
My character is going to be Cassidy, a non binary elf, amab. They come from a family of hippy elves, that live outside Seattle, lifing off the grid. They spent one weekend experiencing the city and left the hippy life behind.
Now they seek thrills as a decker, shadowrunning for excitement and to fund their pursuit of ancient gaming tech. They won't admit it, but they miss their family and sometimes even just not being in a city.
Appearance wise, I see them having a rounder face shape. Thin, but not particularly muscular. They stand at about five foot eight. Long Black hair, to the small of their back, usually pulled into a messy ponytail.
Clothing is green canvas pants and maybe black boots? A black crop top, with a slightly oversized blue jean jacket. I also imagine maybe something as an homage to home. Or some references to vintage games.
I appreciate anyone who read this far. I hope you all have a great day/night/whatever time is left.
Thank you!
submitted by mike5201 to characterdrawing [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 02:06 No_Commission1463 Chopping my hair for basic

I am trying to decide if I should cut my hair to a bob before I ship to basic training, it’s all my natural color but the ends are a little damaged from bleaching previously. I heard you can’t wash your hair gel out that well and I’m worried that will really damage the ends of my hair considering I spent so much time “repairing” it. I know it’s not that important just looking for other opinions!
submitted by No_Commission1463 to army [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 01:35 TheLastRiter I never should have gone to this farmhouse alone. [Part 1]

My hands are shaking as I write this, I have to document my story incase something happens to me in the next few days. I'm not sure where to begin but I suppose here is better than anywhere.
I've always had this weird feeling, this sensation inside of me that I was older than I actually was. By the time I was twelve, my soul felt as though it was forty. By the time I reached twenty, I felt like an old woman. I would watch people around my age acting foolish, and I always thought, "What a bunch of children." So it was no surprise to anyone that when I turned twenty-one, I left my hometown and college and decided to spend the summer alone by renting an old farmhouse in an insignificant town on the edge of an even more insignificant border.
When I told my mother, she had a veritable fit, unable to find the words. She spluttered and raged around me for days before I finally left early one morning to avoid her guilt and frustration with my choices. I was not sure why I craved solitude at such a young age, why I found solace in being alone and removed from society.
In high school, I had changed unexpectedly, cutting my long blonde hair short and dying it black, getting piercings that my mother loathed and claimed no young lady should have. You see, my mother was raised proper, as she called it. Good family, good husband, and finally a good life. She despised her perfect life being squashed by my alternative looks and feelings of the same world. She just didn't understand me or the world as it changed around her. I felt like I was just a trophy to her and my father, her perfect angel who had been tainted by my own demented thoughts.
I never told my parents where I was staying, one last rebellious mission before leaving for a few months, and it took me only a few hours to arrive at the farmhouse where I would be staying for the next few months. The land around the farm was dead or dying, old crops rose out of the dry dusty earth and had turned black and forgotten, as if this land was the example of dreams long forgotten and empty. A single dreary lane connected this desolate farmhouse to the rest of the world. On the outside, it was drab and looked as though it would fall apart. It had two stories but still seemed cramped and small, as if it were a single floor tied to the ground.
Across from the house, bordering the tall weeds that had reclaimed much of the farmland, stood a maudlin-looking faded red barn, one door propped open in a dejected manner revealing naught to me but shadows, dust, and a little mystery.
Next to the barn, staked into the ground on an old-looking cross, was a ragged scarecrow. It had drab brown clothing, but its face was oddly realistic, like it was watching me with a disapproving manner. Straw poked through its joints at odd angles like they were trying to break free from their confines. The scarecrow obviously didn't do its job as it was covered in no less than three crows.
I parked my car next to the barn and stepped out into the dusty yard before the farmhouse that I would make my home for the next few months. I checked under the front mat for the key and put it in the lock.
With a satisfying click, the door fell inward into the farmhouse. Surprisingly, the inside of the farmhouse was modern, clean, and looked quite inviting. I could smell the fresh paint on the walls, and everything was so white. The realtor had told me she would stop by tomorrow to collect the rent, and she had tried to chat my ear off on the phone about all the renovations she and her son were doing on the place.
I sighed with contentment and tossed my bags beside the door. I dug around in my bag and removed my camera, my father's old film shooter as he called it. I had taken up the hobby years ago for what I called capturing the oddity in the world.
I explored the small house a little more; the ground floor consisted of a single room and small bathroom with a shower. The bedroom was upstairs and was the only room, the stairs connected directly to the white and pink monstrosity that was the master bedroom. The pillows had laces on them and almost made me gag from the cuteness. There was even cute white lace curtains on the window with little flowers stitched onto them.
Out of the only window of the room, I could see the barn and the scarecrow. I aimed my camera at the pair and snapped a photo. From this angle, the scarecrow appeared to be staring straight at me. It stood next to the left side of the barn in a dejected manner like a chastised child.
A shudder involuntarily ran through me at the sight, but I moved on back downstairs. It was getting close to dinner time now, and I had brought some food with me.
After a few minutes, I had my dinner on the stove cooking and the crickets chirping outside the open window. As I sat down to eat next to the window, I felt at peace for one of the first times in years. The solitude of this old farm was exactly what I needed. The window supplied a nice breeze that wafted through the place, it smelled of grass and warm summer nights, made me feel at peace. The simple dish of spaghetti with tomato sauce and a glass of wine was all that I needed right here, right now in this moment.
That night I climbed into the frilly laced bed and sunk into the claustrophobic mattress. I felt like Goldilocks in the mama bear's bed as it was altogether too soft. From my perfumed bed, I had a good view out the window. I had left the porch light on, and it cast an eerie glow across the yard. The barn loomed ominously, stalwart against the light of the porch, like it was protecting the shadows from the battering ram of light. The somber scarecrow leaned against the left side of the barn.
With a small jump, I thought I saw its arm move slightly. I peered through my camera using the zoom to get a better view of the scarecrow. It was completely still in the night, and I laughed quietly to myself at my silliness. I had always enjoyed horror movies, but there was no chance I was living in one. I settled back into bed and put my camera down. Within a few minutes, I fell into sleep's warm embrace.
What felt like only a few minutes later, I sat up in bed. It was still dark out, I could hear crickets chirping through the open window, and I strained my ears for a moment.
I thought something had woken me up. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as a cold breeze wafted in through the window. I pulled the frilly blanket up around myself when I heard it. A thud sounded below me, shaking the whole world into silence. The crickets stopped chirping, and my heart felt like it had stopped beating. Someone was in the house. I hadn't locked the door or closed the kitchen window, and now someone was downstairs. A second thud sounded like a boot on the staircase. Then another and another as something was slowly moving up the stairs towards the room.
I don't know why I did it, but something came over me. I wasn't big or especially brave, but my normal cowardice in social situations changed instantly. With a dash, I tore across the room, flicking on the lights, ready to face my attacker, to defend myself against male or female. I would fight, and I would win.
But as the lights turned on, ready to strike with my foot, nothing was there. The staircase was empty, and upon further inspection, the entire house was empty. The kitchen window was open, and I shut and locked it securely before checking the door. Nothing. I sat down on the couch, my heart pounding out of my chest, as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
"I must have still been half-asleep," I said aloud to the room in a thinly veiled attempt to calm my nerves. It failed horribly, but I went with it. What else could you do in a situation like that?
After locking up the house, I went back up to that frilly four-poster bed in the bedroom and stared out the window. Nothing was in the yard except my car, the barn, and the same old sad-looking scarecrow staring across the yard.
Day 2
The next morning, I woke up to the soft light filtering through the lace curtains. Despite the strange events of the previous night, I felt strangely refreshed, as if the morning sun had chased away the shadows that lingered in my mind.
I descended the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under my weight, and headed to the kitchen. As I brewed a pot of coffee, my mind wandered back to the events of last night. Was it just a figment of my imagination, or was there really someone in the house?
Shaking off the unease, I decided to explore the farmhouse in the daylight. I wandered through the room, admiring the modern renovations that clashed with the rustic exterior. The farmhouse had a charm to it, despite its eerie surroundings.
As I made my way outside, the cool morning air greeted me, and I took a deep breath, letting the serenity of the countryside wash over me. The barn stood tall against the backdrop of the morning sky, and the scarecrow seemed to watch me as I crossed the yard.
I approached the barn, curiosity getting the better of me. Pushing open the creaky door, I stepped inside, the musty scent of hay filling my nostrils. The interior was dimly lit, the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the wooden walls.
I explored every nook and cranny of the barn, but found nothing out of the ordinary. As I turned to leave, something caught my eye. In the corner of the barn, hidden beneath a pile of old blankets, was a small wooden chest.
My heart racing with anticipation, I lifted the lid of the trunk and peered inside. What I found took my breath away. It was a collection of old photographs, yellowed with age, depicting scenes from a bygone era. They were of a man with his family, two young kids, and a beautiful young wife. The man had yellow blonde hair, almost like straw in texture, but he smiled so happily with his family.
I sifted through the photographs, my fingers trembling with excitement. Who had left these behind, and why? Each photograph seemed to tell a story, a glimpse into the past of this forgotten farmhouse.
As I sat there, lost in thought, a sudden noise jolted me back to reality. It was the sound of footsteps coming from outside the barn.
"Hello?" The dreamy voice of a woman called to me from the entrance to the barn.
I slammed the lid of the trunk shut, closing the memories up in a flurry as I spun around to be greeted by a quite pretty woman with blonde hair and a pink suit skirt combo. She had bright pink lipstick, that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face, and quite shiny and sparkly blue eye shadow on her lids. I myself only wore black eyeliner. This woman was like Barbie in her proportions, thin waist, long hair, and large tracts of land, as my father would have said.
"Oh, hello," I said simply, always awkward in normal social situations.
If she noticed anything odd about me, she breezed over it in an easy manner. Taking me by the shoulders, she led me out of the dusty barn and into the yard.
"You must be Polly. We have been waiting a while for you to come. I simply must know what you think of the renovations to the house. Aren’t they just to die for?" The lady said all in one breath, as if she didn’t need air to speak.
"Yes, they are quite nice..." I started before she cut me off, not in a rude manner but instead in one that she would have continued on even if I had just told her I was not Polly and instead I was a mass murderer looking for my next victim.
"You see, me and my son Eli—yes, Eli, you stop lurking in the shadows over there," she said, continuing on as I noticed a younger man leaning up against the barn. He wore simple clothes of jeans and a white t-shirt but had a handsome face. His hair was brown and hung slightly over his eyes.
"I hope you don’t mind if my son here continues working on some renovations while you stay here? Strictly on the outside of the house, mind you. A fresh coat of white paint would make this little beauty shine. We would have finished by now if not for the accidents," she continued, completely unabashed by my silence.
"Sorry. But you are the realtor?" I said, trying to regain my feet under me.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry, dear!" she said with an affable cackle.
"Yes, yes, I am Barbara, but all my friends call me Barb. That over there is Eli. Eli, come say hi," Barb said while her painted talons rested firmly on my shoulder.
Eli stomped over, keeping his eyes low, in a sort of moody way that actually intrigued me, sort of.
When he glanced up at me, I noticed he drank in me from head to toe, and for the first time, I realized what I was wearing. An old rock t-shirt of one of my favorite bands and, of all things, my black pajama bottoms with cartoon bats on them that said "happy halloween."
I felt my face blush crimson as he made eye contact with me. He had very mysterious eyes of blue that seemed to cut right through my soul.
"Nice shirt," he said while gesturing to me. His voice was quiet and uncertain, as if he didn’t get much practice with the art. Knowing his mother, it seemed highly accurate.
"Thanks. Do you like them?" I asked.
"Oh, he likes all sorts of things, don’t you, Eli? Honestly, you two can gab on forever. But miss, I believe we have a small matter of payment," Barb said, drawing the conversation back to herself.
"Of course. Let me go get it," I said as I went back into the house and retrieved the envelope with the rent money in it.
Barb grabbed the envelope in her bright pink talons and snapped a piece of bubblegum between her teeth. With quick fingers, she leafed through the cash, counting it. As she counted, her normal bubbly personality seemed to disappear, giving way to what I gleaned was her true thoughts and feelings before the facade slipped on once again.
"Mmkay, perfect honey, this is the right amount. Now you have my number, so you call if you need anything. Like I said earlier, Eli will stop by from time to time to work on painting the house. I promise you he won’t be an imposition, just pay him no mind," Barb said in a sweet voice as she popped her gum in between each word.
"Eli, come on, please, I have an appointment in town," Barb said to her son, and they both climbed into a garish pink convertible with jewels hanging from the mirror wrapped in a gold chain.
Barb waved one last time as she sped off out of the driveway, covering me in dust as she spun the wheel around.
With their departure, I went inside and retrieved my camera. I spent a few minutes shooting a few pictures I thought were worthy. I re-entered the barn and pulled the old trunk out into the sunshine. Inside was only a handful of photos, some old clothes, and what looked like some old heirlooms. A beautifully old candlestick and a few leather-bound books lay at the bottom, covered by an old tablecloth. The tablecloth was a nice white with intricate swirling patterns inlaid around the edges.
Why would these things be packed away in here? They were so beautiful. I decided to bring the stuff inside for further inspection. As I lifted the trunk, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move in the tall grass at the edge of the property. I stared for a minute, but nothing moved again. I must be getting jumpy being alone like this. After last night and then this, I was just imagining things.
I brought the items inside and spread them out. I put the tablecloth on the table, and it hung low to the ground. I placed the candlestick by the window and took out the photos again, spreading them out.
The photos told me a story of a loving family that obviously lived in the farmhouse before me. They had a photo next to the barn, with a brand new looking scarecrow in the back. The man even had his arm around it; it looked so much cleaner and proper in this photo. I stared outside at the sad-looking scarecrow.
I took my camera and the photo and went outside to stand next to the scarecrow. His post hung kind of crooked in the earth like it was weighed down by the scarecrow.
I snapped a photo of the scarecrow as it was, then examined the original photo. I began resettling the post in the ground, but it kept sagging. I decided to pull him out of the ground and move him while I added more dirt to his hole. With some effort, I reseated him into his original hole. He already looked better, but I straightened his clothes and pulled out the last bits of straw that stuck out of his clothes. When I was finished, I looked back at him and took a photo, smiling while I did so at my work.
I then spent some time sweeping the front porch and banging the dust out of the cushions before I curled up on a wicker chair with plump cushions for a few hours reading a book I had brought with me.
I felt quite content at this place. The sounds of the crickets began again, putting me at ease as the sun began to descend. I had spent the entire day just relaxing, and it was perfect. I sat sprawled out in the chair, too lazy to go and make dinner or even move. My bladder was full, but I waited until the last moment before dashing inside and relieving myself.
That's when I noticed it, out in the yard. It seemed as if the scarecrow had moved closer. Once shrouded by the barn slightly, it now had moved a few steps into the light from the porch. My heart dropped at the sight. Not again, I must be asleep on the porch in the chair. I pinched myself, trying to wake up, but all I received was a sore arm.
I closed my eyes, then rubbed them, hoping to dispel whatever plagued my mind, but when I opened my eyes, I noticed the scarecrow was even closer. Halfway across the yard now, it sat menacingly, hanging crooked in the dirt. The scarecrow seemed to be staring at me with an intense gaze. The slits in its face were open now, and in the porch light, I swear I could see human eyes underneath the mask.
I moved towards the front door, locking it in a swift motion. I was shaking now, and it took me a minute to relax. I never took my eyes off the scarecrow for fear of it moving again.
My cellphone was upstairs, so I couldn't flee without the scarecrow moving again. I breathed out slightly and unlocked the door, letting it swing in with a creak. The night outside was silent, as if everything was holding its breath. The usual crickets that plagued me with their song day and night had fallen quiet. I stepped out onto the porch; I needed to go confront this demonic entity. Something about this still made me think this was a prank.
"Eli, is that you?" I called out to the scarecrow.
No response, of course. I steeled myself and put one foot off the porch, never taking my eyes off the scarecrow before me. Something seemed to be dripping from its head as I approached, a dark slime that seemed to be melting from its joints as it stood there silently, except for the constant drip of the liquid on the dry dirt before me.
I walked around the scarecrow, determined to figure out what was going on. As I circled it, my vision darkened for a moment as I faced towards the light of the house. I jumped as the scarecrow's head turned to face me as I looked away. The black liquid drained faster from the being, forming a shallow pool at its feet.
I'm not proud of what I did next, but I fled, taking my eyes off the scarecrow. I made a mad dash for the farmhouse. Behind me, I could hear the pounding of feet. I screamed as loud as my lungs would let me. My voice rang through the silence as I grabbed the door handle and wrenched open the door as I felt a strong grip fall on my shoulder.
I turned to defend myself, but nothing was there. The scarecrow was gone, the wooden cross had vanished, as had the pool of dark liquid in the dirt. The world sprung back to life; the crickets began chirping loudly, and my heart restarted. I slammed the door, and the air from my force scattered the photographs on the table. I ran upstairs, leaving the lights on in the house, and dove onto the bed, wrapping myself in the frilly blanket like a set of frilly armor.
I snatched my camera from the bedside table and held it close, determined to document the rest of the night. I held it in shaking hands as the noise downstairs began—the sound of boots crossing the floor to the stairs and the careful but heavy steps of ascension as they climbed closer and closer to me.
This time, I didn't lunge forward as the light was already on. I glanced out the window, but the scarecrow was still gone. I focused my camera on the stairs and waited as the steps came closer and closer. A shape began to form as the head of whatever was coming up the stairs crested the floor. Then a plain brown mask with slits where the eyes would be. It froze for a moment, then slowly turned its head towards me. Inside the slits were human eyes that seemed to be leaking dark red blood.
In the light, I could see it now. I snapped a photo of the beast, the flash setting off a reaction in the beast. The scarecrow moved so fast up the stairs it was a blur. My scream echoed throughout the house as it lunged at me. Filthy hands pinned me down, and the deep crimson liquid began pouring out of every joint of the scarecrow. It began covering my face, my eyes, and getting into my open mouth. I spluttered and kicked at the beast, but my blows had no purchase, as if the scarecrow on top of me had no substance to itself.
I coughed and spluttered on the liquid as it began to fill my mouth faster and faster. I tried not to swallow any, but it tried to find purchase as I was held down.
"Polly?" A nervous voice called from below.
Suddenly, as if the angels had called, the pressure dissipated, and I crashed to the floor in a heap, trying to spit the blood out, but nothing came—it was gone. Footsteps pounded up the stairs again, and I flew back in fear, closing my eyes.
"Oh my god. Polly, are you okay?" A voice said, and gentle hands grabbed my arm.
My eyes shot open at the human touch, and I grabbed Eli into a tight hug, where I promptly began sobbing in fear, my whole body shaking as Eli awkwardly hugged me.
"Don't worry, it's going to be okay," Eli said patiently to me as he hugged me back gently and began stroking my back.
I shivered in a choking sob and fell into his arms, desperately wanting to believe him, and for some reason, I did.
submitted by TheLastRiter to nosleep [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 00:55 Haunting-Training501 Audio track help

Hey! Pro newbie here, I’m used to using much more simplified video editing tools and I’m pulling hair out over premiere lol. I’m editing a podcast, here is my issue: I accidentally cut the sound track without noticing and then did a bunch of split screen/crop work so undoing it all will make me cry. I typically use inshot on my apple devices for simple work, but I’m using a windows for this and I’m out of my realm. In inshot, I can just drag the end of a track to replace what I cut off. (Does that make sense? I can attach a sample if clarification is needed.) when I use the same tool on pro, it just speeds up or slows my audio playback. There is a big sound gap and anything after it isn’t lining up with the talking. Send help, sincerely someone on salary learning on company time and feeling bad about it. Thank you! The icon I’m trying to use looks like this: <->
submitted by Haunting-Training501 to PremierePro [link] [comments]


http://activeproperty.pl/