BABY ANIMALS

Concept: cursed blade rehabilitation center. Destroying a sentient weapon is expensive and highly unethical, so adventurers bring them to the center where highly trained staff can care for them and eventually find them forever homes. It turns out most cursed weapons are products of trauma and are not strictly evil themselves. Some blades turn out to be fiercely protective companions. Others don't even want to be weapons at all, finding joy in simple work like blacksmithing or farming. Most blades just need to be loved.

A pack of bandits descend upon a seemingly undefended town. But the blacksmith's hammer, the farmer's scythe, the woodsman's axe, they have not forgotten what they once were, and they *will* defend the town that they have come to love.

This sweet girl has been with us for seven seasons. She was forged in the heart of a volcano and would be ideal for anyone with a preexisting fire affinity (she's a cuddler and is guaranteed to keep you warm in winter). She still loves burning, but it turns out you can only reduce the world to ash once. She would be perfectly suited for forest management that regularly requires controlled burns.

This weary old soul has grown tired of bloodshed and would much rather spend his days as an ominous decoration in a tavern or common room, a perfect fit for an adventurer looking to leave their dungeon crawling days behind. He likes peoplewatching with his single glowing eye, preferably from high, prominent locations with views of entrances and exits.

I’m reading this book about the changing arctic and the author stayed with the Nunamiut people of inland alaska for a while and talked to this high school kid who was like “ugh I hate going to school in the spring I wish I was hunting caribou” and I thought that was charming. you often hear about people who are devoted to preserving their traditional culture and knowledge but it’s rare to hear about someone who’s invested in the old ways out of pure teenage selfishness. school is lame and hunting caribou is awesome

The science behind THC + alcohol as a combination is literally soo interesting because it basically causes the crimson red duckling in your body to confront the serpent in the bronze vessel of your heart. Basically you feel good because the duckling is able to eat the harmonious seeds stored within the vessel and transfer these positive energies into your body. You can have bad highs when this happens if the duckling awakens the serpent and it bites the duckling. The interesting part is when you ingest alcohol after THC because it floods the vessel and causes the serpent to fall into a deep sleep. The duckling never gets attacked by the serpent when this happens because it is unconscious and the duckling is actually able to get fat from the harmonious seed, which causes an enjoyable sensation.

ctrl+f is one of the greatest things to happen to academia and indeed this world

last night i dreamed acclaimed actor and director kenneth branagh died in a recreation of the battle of agincourt and i happened to be there at the time, so afterwards the investigator for the death (who was an off brand hercule poirot situation) asked me about it and i said “ken was always drawn to spectacle. he loved that feeling of awe” and i remember thinking, in the dream, what the hell am i doing? since when am i on ken terms with real life oscar winner sir kenneth branagh?? being a heartrendingly present bystander at the moment of his bizarre death doesn’t give me the right to ken him