The Banuk: Our Clothing Must Be Warm, Strong And Practical To Make It Through The Cold And Unforgiving

AND that's the reason I love prequels so much!

They are pretty~

STAR WARS PREQUEL TRILOGY + ART

“Fallen Angel” - ALEXANDRE CABANEL “Full Moon over Kilauea” - JULES TAVERNIER “Ophelia” - JOHN EVERETT MILLAIS “Among the Sierra Nevada, California” - ALBERT BIERSTADT “Lucifer” - FRANZ VON STUCK

@guerrillatech

WE WILL FIGHT. WE WILL SACRIFICE. WE WILL FIND A WAY.

Happy N7 Day! (insp)

TRUE .

no YOU live in a society i live in this frame of pride and prejudice

I know this is going to make me sound pretensions but I have to get it off my chest. I feel an unimaginable rage when someone posts a photo and is like "this picture looks like a renaissance painting lol" when the photo clearly has the lighting, colors and composition of a baroque or romantic painting. There are differences in these styles and those differences are important and labeling every "classical" looking painting as renaissance is annoying and upsetting to me. And anytime I come across one of those posts I have to put down my phone and go take a walk because they make me so mad

i find it really frustrating when people dismiss the criticism of veilguard (from other fans, not grifters) by pointing out how people have always complained about each dragon age release for the same reasons while enjoying them in retrospect because. maybe its not just that people like to complain. maybe its because this game is a symptom of a greater issue across all media genres of late stage capitalism suffocating creativity and gradually reducing all types of media to shallow, shiny, easily-digestible shadows of their former iterations in favor of maximizing profit. and maybe you can see that decline especially clearly in a series like dragon age where you can track its creative manifestation over the last 15 years. and maybe you can see this across the entire gaming industry and film industry and book publishing and television and literally everywhere.

and maybe people have drawn comparisons between veilguard and disney, a comparison that would’ve been unthinkable 10 years ago, not because they are actually similar in content but in their similar loss of the passion, sincerity and humanity behind their creation in favor of meaningless cash grabs that people can FEEL when they experience them. and maybe we also have clear proof of this in the way that the fourth dragon age installment was scrapped, forced into being multiplayer, and ONLY allowed to revert back to single player following the massive monetary success of Jedi: Fallen Order that demonstrated the financial value of single player games to the millionaire executives at EA. but whatever i guess people just love to complain

the first tag lmao

my life ambition: to be a ghibli cat | The Secret World of Arrietty (2010)

“to the glistening eastern sea, i give you queen lucy the valiant”

“to the great western woods, king edmund the just”

“to the radiant southern sun, queen susan the gentle”

“and to the clear northern skies, i give you king peter the magnificent”

Please make a post about the story of the RMS Carpathia, because it's something that's almost beyond belief and more people should know about it.

Carpathia received Titanic’s distress signal at 12:20am, April 15th, 1912. She was 58 miles away, a distance that absolutely could not be covered in less than four hours.

(Californian’s exact position at the time is…controversial. She was close enough to have helped. By all accounts she was close enough to see Titanic’s distress rockets. It’s uncertain to this day why her crew did not respond, or how many might not have been lost if she had been there. This is not the place for what-ifs. This is about what was done.)

Carpathia’s Captain Rostron had, yes, rolled out of bed instantly when woken by his radio operator, ordered his ship to Titanic’s aid and confirmed the signal before he was fully dressed. The man had never in his life responded to an emergency call. His goal tonight was to make sure nobody who heard that fact would ever believe it.

All of Carpathia’s lifeboats were swung out ready for deployment. Oil was set up to be poured off the side of the ship in case the sea turned choppy; oil would coat and calm the water near Carpathia if that happened, making it safer for lifeboats to draw up alongside her. He ordered lights to be rigged along the side of the ship so survivors could see it better, and had nets and ladders rigged along her sides ready to be dropped when they arrived, in order to let as many survivors as possible climb aboard at once.

I don’t know if his making provisions for there still being survivors in the water was optimism or not. I think he knew they were never going to get there in time for that. I think he did it anyway because, god, you have to hope.

Carpathia had three dining rooms, which were immediately converted into triage and first aid stations. Each had a doctor assigned to it. Hot soup, coffee, and tea were prepared in bulk in each dining room, and blankets and warm clothes were collected to be ready to hand out. By this time, many of the passengers were awake–prepping a ship for disaster relief isn’t quiet–and all of them stepped up to help, many donating their own clothes and blankets.

And then he did something I tend to refer to as diverting all power from life support.

Here’s the thing about steamships: They run on steam. Shocking, I know; but that steam powers everything on the ship, and right now, Carpathia needed power. So Rostron turned off hot water and central heating, which bled valuable steam power, to everywhere but the dining rooms–which, of course, were being used to make hot drinks and receive survivors. He woke up all the engineers, all the stokers and firemen, diverted all that steam back into the engines, and asked his ship to go as fast as she possibly could. And when she’d done that, he asked her to go faster.

I need you to understand that you simply can’t push a ship very far past its top speed. Pushing that much sheer tonnage through the water becomes harder with each extra knot past the speed it was designed for. Pushing a ship past its rated speed is not only reckless–it’s difficult to maneuver–but it puts an incredible amount of strain on the engines. Ships are not designed to exceed their top speed by even one knot. They can’t do it. It can’t be done.

Carpathia’s absolute do-or-die, the-engines-can’t-take-this-forever top speed was fourteen knots. Dodging icebergs, in the dark and the cold, surrounded by mist, she sustained a speed of almost seventeen and a half.

No one would have asked this of them. It wasn’t expected. They were almost sixty miles away, with icebergs in their path. They had a respondibility to respond; they did not have a responsibility to do the impossible and do it well. No one would have faulted them for taking more time to confirm the severity of the issue. No one would have blamed them for a slow and cautious approach. No one but themselves.

They damn near broke the laws of physics, galloping north headlong into the dark in the desperate hope that if they could shave an hour, half an hour, five minutes off their arrival time, maybe for one more person those five minutes would make the difference. I say: three people had died by the time they were lifted from the lifeboats. For all we know, in another hour it might have been more. I say they made all the difference in the world.

This ship and her crew received a message from a location they could not hope to reach in under four hours. Just barely over three hours later, they arrived at Titanic’s last known coordinates. Half an hour after that, at 4am, they would finally find the first of the lifeboats. it would take until 8:30 in the morning for the last survivor to be brought onboard. Passengers from Carpathia universally gave up their berths, staterooms, and clothing to the survivors, assisting the crew at every turn and sitting with the sobbing rescuees to offer whatever comfort they could.

In total, 705 people of Titanic’s original 2208 were brought onto Carpathia alive. No other ship would find survivors.

At 12:20am April 15th, 1912, there was a miracle on the North Atlantic. And it happened because a group of humans, some of them strangers, many of them only passengers on a small and unimpressive steam liner, looked at each other and decided: I cannot live with myself if I do anything less.

I think the least we can do is remember them for it.