Listen to me, your body is not a temple. Temples can be destroyed and desecrated. Your body is a forest — thick canopies of maple trees and sweet scented wildflowers sprouting in the underwood. You will grow back, over and over, no matter how badly you are devastated.

Beau Taplin || T e m p l e s (via cosmofilius)

My parents’ front yard had a huge Elm tree in it–stretching up past my bedroom window, above the house, into the sky, a resilient survivor of Dutch Elm disease and everything else nature could throw at it.

But last year it had to come down: it was hollow, unstable, sick, and if it fell in a storm it would crush the house.

My mom says it felt like an earthquake when the huge branches dropped.

My mom’s a gardener. She’d taken the grass out of that yard and put in beautiful things, a Japanese maple, a blue and pink hydrangea in memory of my grandma, trillium she rescued from construction sites and uncountable things I can’t name. 

The garden was crushed by those huge falling limbs. She walked out when the last of the tree had been hauled away, and she mourned for the broken Japanese maple and the hydrangea she couldn’t find trace of and the mud and mess of this place she birthed and nurtured and loved.

But.

But the thing about all of these plants is they come from forests, and in forests, trees fall. 

So in the spring, things changed:

The Japanese maple is gone, but there’s a few tiny seedlings trying to be born.

The hydrangea is sending up new branches from its broken stem.

The trillium bloomed, the ferns uncurled, the dogwood, damaged but unbroken, thrived in the sunlight.

And from the roots of that elm tree sprouted a whole flock of saplings. 

So many that Mom’s had to cut them back. So many that for years she’ll have to play tug-of-war with the living roots of that dead tree to keep the front yard from turning into a forest of spindly elms. 

She laughed, last week, when she told me about it.

“There’s a story there,” she said, shaking her head on my computer screen. “Something about resurrection.”

(via nyininkalikela)

nehirose:

voidbat:

punishedlynx:

writing-prompt-s:

Across the galaxy, every life bearing planet evolved cats and nobody has ever figured out why.

My designation is Vespir, Radiant Prime. My exalted war-frame currently holds a geosynchronous orbit with a small blue and green orb of a planet. I am 276 solar cycles in age, according to the standardized time measurement of our Empire. Said Empire is vast, encapsulating 713 sentient species, over 2,000 habitable worlds in 1328 systems, and hosting three trillion individual existences. We are beautiful in our expanse, and gracious in our sovereignty. All are equal under the banner of the Empire, and all opportunities are afforded to those that would prove their willingness to work. Societal strife is practically non-existent, and our recorded history notes this current time as being the most peaceful to exist, other than skirmishes with anti-Empire federations. By all accounts, I am pleased and honored to live and serve in such a beneficent stewardship. 

However, one question has always burned in the core of my being since my earliest days, and it is for this reason that I have come to this far-off world. The question? That in and of itself is a small tale. I believe I was 15 cycles old at the time. Hah. How young. My psionic crystals had just grown in and my toxin sacs were constantly full. Such a time of adventure where every stray thought caught in my receptor was prized upon as a shining treasure. Alas.

We were on a science vessel for an educational trip, headed to a small biological preserve, and it was there that an interesting…quirk of the universe was revealed to us. A bored-looking Shalui grasped a small, mammalian animal in it’s numerous manipulator tendrils, stroking it’s short black fur with one while gently supporting it with the other six. 

“This life-form is a warm blooded, fur-possessing, carbon based quadruped belonging to the genus Helyne. Though many species exist under the genus of Helyne, all species are capable of successful mating with one another, producing viable offspring. Furthermore…” the Shalui instructor droned on, but we had long ago stopped paying attentions. Kaits, as they were called in our language, were admittedly adorable, but they were also everywhere. Our family took care of three. Why were we being told about something as basic as this?

My question was soon answered, though I had not voiced it with vocal or psionic activity.

“Though a generally agreeable type of life, no one would call the Heylne line particularly noteworthy. Steadfast companions, to be sure, but utterly common in ability and makeup. However,” our instructor mused for a moment as one manipulator tendril splayed open to gently caress the fuzzy cheeks of the animal. Seemingly caught up in the affectionate motion, he hastily continued. “there’s one exceptional thing about the Heylne.”

Silence, other than the contented vocalizations from the kait in his hands. 

“Across every star system we have reached, every world we have annexed, every regrettable war we have fought, one constant remains true. The genus Helyne. If you’re unaware of the significance of that…Vespir. Come here, if you would, young lord.” My features must have betrayed my rapt attention. I rose, not breaking sitting posture, enveloped in a blue shroud of psionic energy. Regarding me for a moment, the instructor whispered something into my mind and I nodded.

At the Shalui’s request, I unfurled my six slender legs, letting their scything tips gently click against the metal floor. It was considered rude for an Espiri to walk using their legs in spaces that were not their own and instead we moved with our psionic power once we were capable. Our legs were strong and slender, beautiful in a way, but had evolved as tools of fierce locomotion and terrifying weapons of predation. Not suitable for a civilized society. 

I now stood directly next to the Shalui instructor. Our races had come into their own on the same planet, in the same biomes. We fought and killed for thousands of cycles, until we abandoned the hatreds of our past and formed the Empire some seventeen thousand cycles ago. I understood the point my instructor was trying to make then and there. 

For living on the same planet, eating the same food, and adapting to the same circumstances, our races couldn’t be more physically different. Shalui were, to put it basically, a walking bundle of tentacles that had adapted to different tasks. That was a gross oversimplification, but enough to illustrate the point. Their faces were a gently pulsating mass of thin, gorgeous lines that fluctuated and reformed to make expressions. Espiri found them especially attractive when they were angry. On the other hand, an Espiri was a basic head-torso-limbs situation. Six legs, two arms, a slender build throughout. We possessed chiseled skulls, angular and almost geometric. As we aged, psionic nodes grew through our bodies, allowing us to manipulate our surroundings and communicate without talking. 

So how had the kait, or rather, the Helyne spread all the way across our galaxy and remained so ubiquitous? Simply living in a different hemisphere provided interesting variations of life, not to mention the extreme changes regarding the long timelines and unique challenges facing evolutionary growth on entirely new planets. 

From that day I knew. It was no accident, no random occurrence. Someone, or something, had seeded all worlds with this spark of life. Perhaps a great progenitor race, brilliant and wise in their infinite ages. For the next 250 cycles, I rose through the ranks of society, becoming Radiant Prime to Her Burning Will. Our light shone across the galaxy, illuminating the darkest corners, seeking answers lost to the scourges of war and time. 

I found it. At the edges of the Empire, on the fringes of civilized society, I found it. That progenitor-world I dreamed of as a youth, and chased voraciously. I devoured every scrap of knowledge from every single sentient race we came across until I had the pieces in my hands, and could only follow them to their conclusion. We had no designated name for the planet, but radio wave blasts recorded millennia gave me a moniker. Earth. A curious planet. Holding orbit, I gathered data with my war-frame, perusing imagery of the surface. I glowered at the feeds. There was nothing here. Perhaps once, long ago, some 150,000 cycles ago, there was a spacefaring civilization. But it had gone, and all that remained was the peaceful husk of massive tower, gleaming near the equator. Faint traces of technology were visible in the scans, including what looked to be a data repository based on the banks of crystal lattices buried in the earth. The tip of the tower looked like it once contained a massive payload, presumably ejected long ago into starspace.

Activating the anti-grav psions in the flux core, I descended on the “Earth.” I had built a communications cipher using their ancient radio blasts, capable of translating their Eyglishe and Khainese to our native tongue. The spire was wholly consumed with vegetation, but the structure was built to last. Perhaps a final monument to a species that encountered too many genetic flaws to continue. Perhaps a world grave, built by conquerors. Perhaps…simply an entertainment center. I had no way of knowing. 

Granting the space due reverence, I left the metallic shell of my war-frame and glided across the verdant flora that covered every inch. Holding one arm out in front of me, a holographic display popped to life, and augmented my vision. The data told me “down”, and so I descended from daylight into darkness. 

Time was nigh-meaningless on this star, but I felt the moments slip away from me. The holographic display indicated a passing of a thirty-sixth of a rotation before I reached the presumed data repository. It went without saying that there was no power, but our civilization was great in it’s foresight and technology, especially in regards to discovering secrets of the past. From a canister I produced an adaptive nanopolymer and a universal hardline connector to the solar power bays of my war-frame. After clearing off the console that was connected to the crystal lattices, I carefully poured the polymer over the console and watched it think for a fraction of a moment before shaping into a plug for the connector. 

I was finally here. Ready to learn the secrets of the past. 250 cycles in the making for me, but how much longer for the brave spirits that undertook this before me? I, Vespir, Radiant Prime, stood on the precipice of fate and prepared to be illuminated. 

The console flicked to life. A holographic display of an Earth native seemed to spin in place, surprised, before looking up at me. It appeared female, with a thick mane of black keratin descending from it’s round skull. It wore garments of black over it’s leggings and torso, accentuated with a coat of white. It’s skin was an attractive dark olive colouration – most likely a defense against the somewhat strong ultraviolet radiation. It’s two eyes – front facing, predatory and keen, decorated in lavish black frames – centered on me for a long moment.

It laughed, loudly. Audio boomed through the undisturbed halls. This was a vocalization of joy? Despair? Displeasure? 

“Holy shit, you’re kinda fuckin’ ugly man.” The hologram said, adjusting the frames on it’s skull, as if to see me better. It was a hologram. It did not need to perform this action to see me better. The translation was instant, and I understood the words, but I could not help my disbelief. The Earth-form continued. 

“Well, I say ugly, but that’s from my viewpoint. Biologically, god damn you’re fucking beautiful. Look at those legs! And you’re not even using ‘em! Wow. Those crystals? Is that some sort of psychic waveform generation? Jesus. Wish the actual me was around to meet you.” The hologram mused on as I regained my composure.

“I am Vespir, Earth-form. Radiant Prime of Her Burning Will. Who are you?” The earth-form tapped a digit to it’s lips before speaking.

“I’m Emma, uh, a human being. I’m the…brilliant…researcher of a super long dead civilization! Like, 180,000 years dead according to the data I’m getting just now and oh god that’s pretty depressing. I’m also a mind scan, so I’m really not even Emma. But hey, close enough, right big guy?” Sadness touched upon my mind, and I identified this feeling as my own. Waking up from an eternal slumber to find your existence to be unreal and your species gone. 

“I apologize for this intrusion, and for disturbing your much deserved rest. However…” I trailed off “Emma-Uh, I must kno-” In my excitement, I realized I had descended and splayed my legs out on the ground, so that I was supporting my own weight. My psionic nodes pulsed an embarrassed blue, and I retracted my legs, floating once more.

“Cute.”

“I….?”

“You were so excited you had to actually stand.” She was uncanny in her intelligence, noting my apprehension at using my legs in this space. I admired it.

“It was…not a deliberate action, this much is true. Regardless. I’m afraid I really must ask a question of you, before I return you to your vigil.” Emma-Uh seemed to regard me for a moment before she shrugged.

“Shoot, but I’m gonna give you a condition if you want my answer to whatever it is you hauled your alien ass out here for.” Her stance seemed aggressive. A power play, for sure, but it could not be contested. She held the correct cards, and I was surely performing a disservice to her by practically waking the dead.

“Agreed. What do you wish?”

“Take me with you.” She didn’t miss a beat. Bending down at the waist, she touched the non-existent ground and stood back up. “You’ve got some pretty amazing technology to interface with some old human junk this easily. You’ve obviously got a ship with some mode of faster-than-light travel if you’re here by yourself. You also have freakin’ psychic powers. I’m sure you can build me some kind of hot robot body in exchange for whatever priceless knowledge you want from little old me. Old, old, old me.” 

To say I was floored would be an understatement. But I could not refuse. Brash and vulgar, but possessed of a keen intellect, Emma-Uh could be a fantastic asset to our Empire. There was also something else.

Empathy. Guilt. I woke her into a quiet and unmoving world where she was the last of her kind. In that moment, she was thrust into the future and found out she was the digital ghost of a long dead woman. To say I felt reprehensible would to understate the matter. 

“Glowing spider dude, just let me see the stars, come on. I’ll tell you anything.” Her voice pierced my mired thoughts.

“…Agreed.”

“So what did you wanna know?”

I considered heavily for a moment, before I asked the question.

“What…are kaits? Helyne? Why are they on every habitable planet? Why are they such a constant?” The translator that met our words halfway formed these into the words she knew. Her eyes went wide and she laughed, laughed so hard she cried, falling down onto an invisible ground and rolling around.

“Cats? Oh dude, it worked? It fucking worked! Dude!” She yelled loudly, staring up at the forested ceiling. It was a long moment before she spoke, holographic eyes glazed over in remembrance. 

“Well, our civilization was dying out, we never mastered faster than light travel on a scale big enough to move colony ships. Just tight-beam information blasts. Everyone else was gone, and I was here, alone. The real me, not this spooky Microsoft ghost. It was just me and Ike, my pet. And I was like, ‘gee, Emma, aren’t cats great?’ So I…well. I kinda took a sample of Ike and ran it through a profiler, and I made a million, million variations of that double helix, and…I blasted that information into the great void. I really just thought, ‘wouldn’t it be neat if everyone could have a cat, even when all the humans are gone?’ It’d be a shame if the best thing about Earth couldn’t be shared with the stars.”

Confusion and a strange joy welled in my core. It was a longer moment before I spoke, deploying a data-probe into the console as I did. It activated a prompt for Emma-Uh to respond to as I did. The prompt read, “Accept transfer?”

“So…you, blasted a genetic information wave to the entire galaxy, seeding countless stars with Helyne data, because you thought ‘cats’ were great?”

“Yeah, that’s basically it.” Emma-Uh nodded as she tapped the prompt, slowly transferring into the war-frame’s vast databanks. I spoke to the warm darkness ahead of me, unsure if Emma-Uh would hear my words. They needed to be said anyway.

“…You made a wonderful difference to the universe.”

::clutches this post tightly::

OH WELL JESUS.

caissymax:

ashermajestywishes:

animatedamerican:

pentapuslikes:

the-knights-who-say-book:

When the sorcerer found the dragon, it was attacking a grape.

This was only possible because the dragon was not much larger than a grape itself, but she still had to do a double take to be sure the object it was fighting with such animosity was in fact inanimate.

She crouched so that her eyes were level with the top of the table and squinted at it. The dragon sank its tiny fangs into the grape’s skin and gave a great tug, succeeding only in throwing it and the grape into a backwards tumble. The tiny green reptile rolled to a stop with its whole body wrapped around the grape and shook its head ferociously, managing to pull its teeth out but also launching the grape across the table. It gave a mighty roar of anger (about as loud as a human clearing their throat) and stalked after it, tail swishing dangerously.

“Do you need help?” she offered.

The dragon froze mid-prowl and whipped its head around to look at her, looking so offended she almost apologized for asking.

“I mean, I could peel it for you, if that’s the problem.” She wasn’t sure it was getting the message. One could never tell how much human language these little creatures picked up by hanging around the magic labs. Some understood only such essentials as “scat!” or “oh fuck, that sure did just explode”, while others could hold entire conversations — if they deigned to interact.

This one looked like it was deciding whether she was worthy. Finally, it sniffed daintily and flicked its tail, scales clacking together. “Little monster is my prey, and you can’t have it. Found it first. Will devour it!”

“Oh, sure,” she agreed. “But you know it’s a grape, right?”

This was the wrong thing to say. It glared at her and then bounded away to the other end of the table, where it slithered up to the grape and pounced on it.

Grape and dragon promptly rolled off the edge of the table.

The sorcerer quickly went around to that side, alarmed that it would be stepped on. The labs were bustling with shoppers stopping by to watch demonstrations this time of day, and a small dragon wouldn’t be easily visible on the blue and green tiled floor.

“Horrible! Dirty!” The tiny dragon was screeching at the top of its lungs, holding onto its prey for dear life. It would have been hard to hear anyway, with all the noise of the labs, but with the sorcerer’s diminished hearing it took several seconds to locate the screaming creature.

She scanned the pattern of the tiles for it and sighed. “Oh, hold on, we mopped this morning.” She cupped her hands around it and deposited it into her skirt pocket, an indignity the dragon endured only with more screaming.

“An outrage! Put me down!”

“Shh,” she advised. Lab workers were strongly discouraged from bringing creatures into the back rooms, which was where she was heading, picking her way through the crowded front lab.

“Fuck pockets!” her pocket responded.

“Oh, you can curse. Wonderful.”

The dragon seemed to take this as an actual compliment. “Am multitalented. Can also compose poetry.”

“Really? Can I hear some?”

“No. For dragon ears only.” It sounded viciously pleased to hold this over her head. The bulge in her pocket rearranged itself, and she thought it might be trying to gnaw on the grape.

She felt herself smiling even as she tried to squash her mouth into a straight line. She liked this little bad-tempered thing, even though its spiky feet were digging into her thigh.

In the much quieter kitchen of the back rooms behind the lab, she transferred the wriggling, scaly handful from her pocket to the table. The dragon hissed out a few more insults as it got up and straightened itself out, but its jaw fell open when it finally took in its surroundings. She’d set it down next to the fruit bowl.

“There you go. Food mountain.”

The dragon’s shock didn’t last long. Abandoning the grape, it scraped and scrabbled its way up the side of the bowl and from there onto an apple, its claws leaving tiny puncture marks as it hiked to the top of the arrangement. “Food mountain!” It repeated, its gleeful crowing much clearer and almost sing-song without having to compete with the noise of the crowd.

She watched it turn in a circle, surveying the feast. “But… cannot eat it all,” it observed after a while, crestfallen. “Human-sized. Big shame.”

“Don’t you have nest-mates who can help you with it?” she asked. She had assumed not, from the way it had apparently been foraging for food on its own, but she needed to be sure she’d found a loner.

“No nest. No mates. No nest-mates. You’re rude.” It flopped down ungracefully, wings spread out flat on the apple like it was trying to hug the entire much-larger fruit.

She gave it a moment to be dramatic, and then offered it the grape, minus the peel. “You seem to have a good grasp on human-speak.”

It grabbed the grape without so much as a thank you. “Yes. Have composed poetry in both Dragonese and Humanese. Not for humans to hear, though.” Bragging cheered it up a little.

“You mentioned. I can’t hear very well, anyway.” She pulled up a stool and sat down. “Actually, I’ve been looking for a helper.”

“An assistant,” it said, apparently showing off its Humanese. “An attendant. An aid.”

She watched it bury its snout in the grape, juice dribbling down onto the apple it sat on. “Yes. A hearing aid. How would you feel about having a job?”

It smiled craftily. “Would feel positively, if job comes with chocolate chips.”

“It could,” she said, grinning. She had some friends who employed bird-sized dragons as messengers, but this was the first time she’d heard of one negotiating its salary for itself. “It certainly could. What’s your name?”

“Peep,” said Peep. “It is self-explanatory.”

“Don’t worry, I got it.”

Peep expressed its doubt that humans ever got anything, but she thought the tiny, prickly creature might be warming up to her.

Fuck pockets! XD

This is THE MOST ADORABLE

I want this as a novel, an audiobook, a movie and a graphic novel

@lily-the-leopard