Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Give me the burden, give me the blame (I’ll shoulder the load, and I′ll swallow the shame) - Chapter 3
Fandom: Tavern Talk (Visual Novel)
Pairing: Quasar Duskbringer/Innkeeper
Chapter title: As you march towards your death, breathing your last breath
AO3 link
---
You are Rune. You have just defeated Kerebosia for the first time. Her minions lie in pieces at your feet, and you see the shock of her red hair as she runs away.
Quasar is struggling to his feet, wanting to give chase, but you stop him. You’ve foiled her plans for now, and she’ll need time to recover from this loss. You have time to gather yourselves and heal. Cain went down, in the battle, and the both of you turn to see Kya and Delphi helping him up. All of you seem more or less okay, if a bit banged up, and you’re grateful to live and see another day.
You turn back to the beautiful boy, to check on him. You see the way he shrugs off the pain, from the neck and shoulders, and you see the effort it takes him to make his way back to Cain, to heal him. You see the focus in his eyes, the gentleness of his touch, and you notice, for the first time in ages, that the little seed he sowed back at the tavern, after the museum, has blossomed. It is love.
You are in love with a beautiful boy, and you knew this was coming, but somehow, it still took you by surprise.
You are the Innkeeper. You are in a tavern with a cruel, terrible man, and you are scared by how much you still love him. His kindness is gone, and so is his empathy, but he is still beautiful, and you still know him, down to his core, when you look at him. You fear him. He is asking you a question, he is asking you to choose, and you are afraid, because you don’t know what he is capable of. You have to choose.
Did you hear the scientists have found a way to grow colored cotton? Thoughts?
It’s not a ‘scientists have found’ and much more ‘people have been already doing that for thousands of years and it’s just gaining more attention recently’
There’s actually been a load of vitriol leveled against folks who try to raise traditional colored cottons, because a lot of cotton growers don’t want the colored cottons cross-pollinating with their standard white cotton.
But anyway cotton can be grown in lovely natural shades of greens, reddish-brown ochres, and browns, all of which deepen with a good boil in water with a bit of washing soda thrown in.
The color obviously doesn’t fade or run, because it’s not dye. It’s the intrinsic color of the fiber itself.
I’m biased because I love the natural earth tones of many fibers, of course...browns, blacks, creams, copper-reds, ect...but I think they’re just gorgeous.
Scientists did not "just find out", and this is more of the same anti intellectual bs as the post that goes around claiming archaeologists were too stupid to know that hair could be sewn for elaborate styles.
Anyway, scientists DID figure out how to grow colored cotton. They genetically engineered it to be bright fuckin pink, and they didn't "just find out" about it, they already knew which is literally what inspired them to attempt the thing they just accomplished. Begging y'all to stop pretending that scientists don't know things, don't have interests, don't grow up in farming communities or have family who taught them this. Scientists are people. Do you seriously think people who use genetic engineering to make eco-friendly pink cotton don't know anything about textiles?
Anyway. Bright pink cotton without dyes, because science is awesome
Yes. CSIRO scientist Doctor Colleen MacMillan led the team that figured this out. They used tobacco plants for testing because of the genetic similarity. Basically if the tobacco leaves produced colors when injected with a bit of the experimental genetic material, the scientists on the team already understood that the color change would affect cotton bolls as well.
They grew bright red and bright yellow in a petri dish.
And yes, Doctor MacMillan knows lots of things. Here's a list of some of her publications.
@csirogram on Instagram
Additionally folks are researching how to create flame resistant cotton and black cotton. If a variety of black cotton becomes viable, it can stop a LOT of environmental damage caused by chemical manufacturing of black dye.
Yeah, but why the fuck are we doing this? What’s the point? Why do we need to be injecting plant into another plant just to make it pink instead of, oh, I don’t know, destroying capitalism? This is coffee enema science. It’s redundant, tired and useless, and the funding could’ve been spent in a lot more useful ways. Fuck Colleen MacMillan and her team
The point is that it could massively reduce the amount of dye we use to dye cotton, which would help dramatically with water pollution. Not only would it reduce dye use but it would also reduce dye production, which in itself creates pollution. Because this would be on an industry scale, it would positively affect the environment far more than what an individual could do by trying to avoid purchasing dyed clothes.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Give me the burden, give me the blame (I’ll shoulder the load, and I′ll swallow the shame) - Chapter 2
Fandom: Tavern Talk (Visual Novel)
Pairing: Quasar Duskbringer/Innkeeper
Chapter title: You brought me to this party but you left me here behind
AO3 link
---
You are Rune. You are at the tavern, with the beautiful boy who you just met, who inexplicably decided that you, this wild thing, covered head to toe and running from the law, deserved help. Compassion, even. You sit next to him, drink in hand, at the tavern that is about to change your life forever, and you look at this boy, cloaked in starlight and posturing to hide how young he truly is. You look at how his eyes spark as he talks to the tavern keeper, and you know, deep down, that something’s shifted. You look at him, at the quirk of his smile, which you hadn’t seen yet, crooked and so very charming, and you just know, you will fall for this boy.
You are the Innkeeper. You stand in your tavern across from a beautiful, broken man, and you love him, you never stopped loving him. You built this tavern at the altar of your cowardice, hoping he would some day enter it. You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet. You have not made that place yet.
He is asking you a question, but there is another that you should answer, one he doesn’t know. You have to choose.
It’s not widely known information, but they made their staff themselves.
It’s not widely known information, but they made their staff themselves.
When they first left the palace, cloaked in darkness and ushered through by the mercenary they hired to get them out of Avalon, there was a big amaranth tree, felled down by the perpetual storm that rained down on the palace grounds. One big branch had split away from what remained of the trunk, still somewhat intact, and even through the curtain of rainfall, something called them to it. They'd left their crown and jewels behind, all of the fine clothing they'd grown up in, all their books, every single remnant of home except for Andu, and their own wings. Too risky, to take anything so closely related to the soon-to-be-thought-dead princess, too high a possibility to be found out. And they did not regret leaving, no, of course not! There was nothing here for them, not anymore, if ever.
But.
Well, they figured, they were bound to get homesick, sometimes. It wouldn’t hurt to have something from here, and it’s not like anyone would miss a branch. Besides, they had a Bag of Holding, it’s not like it would be difficult to carry the branch, and it wouldn’t be taking any space.
In the first few months into Gaia, full of excitement and wonder and brimming with power, they realized they needed a weapon. They were unfamiliar with the dangers of this plane, but they knew enough to realize they’d need some way to channel the power that Leviathan poured into their veins. So for weeks, at night, they’d sit down by the light of a campfire and whittle down the branch, little by little. The Dragon figurehead took some trial and error, and it more closely resembled depictions of Cassiopeia or even Ur than Leviathan, but it looked properly Dragon-like, and the purple undertones of the wood looked very nice with it, once the whittling revealed them. By the time they’d deemed it finished, they were quite proud of the final product, and the ambient magic of Avalon meant that it could channel a mean Eldritch Blast indeed.
It worked like a dream, too. No matter how many battles they fought, the staff remained steady in their hand. Reliable, despite the inexperienced craftsmanship. With time, the wood seemed to shift colors, the eyes of the figurehead slowly gaining a soft glow. Their own magic was infusing the wood, they realized; the staff was, truly, an extension of them as a person. Following them no matter where they went, always at hand against any foe.
Until even that wasn’t enough. Until there was a battle they couldn’t win. Until it was never wielded again.
Funny how now, years later, it ended up as a coat rack, passing by unnoticed by most patrons of the tavern. Even... Even Quasar, the singular time he visited, only passed his eyes over it briefly, choosing to focus his heavy attention on the Innkeeper, themselves, not on the lovingly crafted weapon, gathering dust in the corner.
He didn’t spare a look for Aurawra, either. The weight of that scarlet gaze, which they once came to love, rested squarely on the Innkeeper, cold as ice.
#'ryan gosling is too conventionally attractive to play grace' okay well they needed someone with multiple previous roles#starring in romantic dramas to outperform them all for a rock spider alien puppet via @valtsv
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Give me the burden, give me the blame (I’ll shoulder the load, and I′ll swallow the shame) - Chapter 3
Fandom: Tavern Talk (Visual Novel)
Pairing: Quasar Duskbringer/Innkeeper
Chapter title: As you march towards your death, breathing your last breath
AO3 link
---
You are Rune. You have just defeated Kerebosia for the first time. Her minions lie in pieces at your feet, and you see the shock of her red hair as she runs away.
Quasar is struggling to his feet, wanting to give chase, but you stop him. You’ve foiled her plans for now, and she’ll need time to recover from this loss. You have time to gather yourselves and heal. Cain went down, in the battle, and the both of you turn to see Kya and Delphi helping him up. All of you seem more or less okay, if a bit banged up, and you’re grateful to live and see another day.
You turn back to the beautiful boy, to check on him. You see the way he shrugs off the pain, from the neck and shoulders, and you see the effort it takes him to make his way back to Cain, to heal him. You see the focus in his eyes, the gentleness of his touch, and you notice, for the first time in ages, that the little seed he sowed back at the tavern, after the museum, has blossomed. It is love.
You are in love with a beautiful boy, and you knew this was coming, but somehow, it still took you by surprise.
You are the Innkeeper. You are in a tavern with a cruel, terrible man, and you are scared by how much you still love him. His kindness is gone, and so is his empathy, but he is still beautiful, and you still know him, down to his core, when you look at him. You fear him. He is asking you a question, he is asking you to choose, and you are afraid, because you don’t know what he is capable of. You have to choose.
It’s not widely known information, but they made their staff themselves.
It’s not widely known information, but they made their staff themselves.
When they first left the palace, cloaked in darkness and ushered through by the mercenary they hired to get them out of Avalon, there was a big amaranth tree, felled down by the perpetual storm that rained down on the palace grounds. One big branch had split away from what remained of the trunk, still somewhat intact, and even through the curtain of rainfall, something called them to it. They'd left their crown and jewels behind, all of the fine clothing they'd grown up in, all their books, every single remnant of home except for Andu, and their own wings. Too risky, to take anything so closely related to the soon-to-be-thought-dead princess, too high a possibility to be found out. And they did not regret leaving, no, of course not! There was nothing here for them, not anymore, if ever.
But.
Well, they figured, they were bound to get homesick, sometimes. It wouldn’t hurt to have something from here, and it’s not like anyone would miss a branch. Besides, they had a Bag of Holding, it’s not like it would be difficult to carry the branch, and it wouldn’t be taking any space.
In the first few months into Gaia, full of excitement and wonder and brimming with power, they realized they needed a weapon. They were unfamiliar with the dangers of this plane, but they knew enough to realize they’d need some way to channel the power that Leviathan poured into their veins. So for weeks, at night, they’d sit down by the light of a campfire and whittle down the branch, little by little. The Dragon figurehead took some trial and error, and it more closely resembled depictions of Cassiopeia or even Ur than Leviathan, but it looked properly Dragon-like, and the purple undertones of the wood looked very nice with it, once the whittling revealed them. By the time they’d deemed it finished, they were quite proud of the final product, and the ambient magic of Avalon meant that it could channel a mean Eldritch Blast indeed.
It worked like a dream, too. No matter how many battles they fought, the staff remained steady in their hand. Reliable, despite the inexperienced craftsmanship. With time, the wood seemed to shift colors, the eyes of the figurehead slowly gaining a soft glow. Their own magic was infusing the wood, they realized; the staff was, truly, an extension of them as a person. Following them no matter where they went, always at hand against any foe.
Until even that wasn’t enough. Until there was a battle they couldn’t win. Until it was never wielded again.
Funny how now, years later, it ended up as a coat rack, passing by unnoticed by most patrons of the tavern. Even... Even Quasar, the singular time he visited, only passed his eyes over it briefly, choosing to focus his heavy attention on the Innkeeper, themselves, not on the lovingly crafted weapon, gathering dust in the corner.
He didn’t spare a look for Aurawra, either. The weight of that scarlet gaze, which they once came to love, rested squarely on the Innkeeper, cold as ice.
Give me the burden, give me the blame (I’ll shoulder the load, and I′ll swallow the shame) - Chapter 2
Fandom: Tavern Talk (Visual Novel)
Pairing: Quasar Duskbringer/Innkeeper
Chapter title: You brought me to this party but you left me here behind
AO3 link
---
You are Rune. You are at the tavern, with the beautiful boy who you just met, who inexplicably decided that you, this wild thing, covered head to toe and running from the law, deserved help. Compassion, even. You sit next to him, drink in hand, at the tavern that is about to change your life forever, and you look at this boy, cloaked in starlight and posturing to hide how young he truly is. You look at how his eyes spark as he talks to the tavern keeper, and you know, deep down, that something’s shifted. You look at him, at the quirk of his smile, which you hadn’t seen yet, crooked and so very charming, and you just know, you will fall for this boy.
You are the Innkeeper. You stand in your tavern across from a beautiful, broken man, and you love him, you never stopped loving him. You built this tavern at the altar of your cowardice, hoping he would some day enter it. You just wanted to prove there was one safe place, just one safe place where you could love him. You have not found that place yet. You have not made that place yet.
He is asking you a question, but there is another that you should answer, one he doesn’t know. You have to choose.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
