Longwing

@longwing.sunkenlibrary.org

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A pile of calcium sticks glued together by proteins and piloted by a ghost.

A meme-format photo. The text reads "I'm going for the male loneliness aesthetic" and then "Interior decorator: 'say no more'" Int he background behind the text is a photo of a bedroom clearly decorated by a man. It's neat, pretty clean, but yikes is it in poor taste. Grey and black striped bedspread. A wallmounted assault rifle above the headboard, an american flag above that. To the left is a black-and-white "don't tread on me" serpant flag. To the right is a couple of christian crosses (that look like they're probably KKK symbols of of some sort). The only sign of any life or kindness in this room is a fairly large and well-maintained fish tank. I can't help but think how much nicer the room would be if the decorator had focused on that as the centerpiece rather than trying to compensate for their own sense of inadequacy.
The Ides of March by Edward John Poynter. Two figures stand in a grand roman entryway framed by marble columns looking out a sky on the cusp of either dawn or night with the barest hint of sunlight on the horizon. Through the clouds above, framed likewise by the columns, is a prominent shooting star. Both figures wear roman robes and the room is decorated in a baroque roman style (one that we now know is more accurate than the austere white marble we once associated with Rome). The scene is dark and gives the impression of stillness in the small hours of a day. Most illumination comes from a small lamp on the left side, which casts a long shadow of a roman bust on the wall behind it. The mastery of light and shadow is complete. You could believe you were looking at a photograph rather than an oil painting.
Two pictures in one frame. The above photo is of a man wearing black spandex and a 4 foot wide frame made of white PVC piping held up by suspenders. The image below is concept art of a woman warrior with a bloody sword overlooking a beautiful fantasy landscape. Beside her is a gelatinous cube, refracting blue in the sunlight.
A video of a cozy fireplace with a warm fire within.
Screenshot of a page count. Page 358 of 358. 85737 words.
Screenshot of a weather update from an iPhone, all fake clouded glass and round shiny edges. It says “Sleet Stopping Soon. Expected to stop at your location at 10:46 AM.”
An HDR photo of part of the Pittsburgh skyline under a grey sky. Seen from high bleachers at PNC park.
An amber glass jar, common in earlier eras and evoking a kind of 1970s nostalgia. The jar has an old label in white, black, and red. Which reads: REPLACEMENT WIRE HARNESS SMOKE 54953043 LUCAS Genuine Service Part POSITIVE EARTH ONLY 500 ML MADE IN ENGLAND The jar looks like some kind of real-world old supply for automotive, electrical, or machining use.
A video of an active volcano on the evening horizon as a cloud passes over its peak. The lava from the cone casts an orange glow on the clouds above as moonlight streams down and casts shadows on the mountainside. Volcan Villarrica, Chile.
A whiteboard littered with dozens of notes on tiny scraps of paper, all pinned down with neon colored magnetic pins in different shapes and sizes. Major NPC’s involved in attack or defense?Opposed rules to see who loses vitality. Buildings have vitality. Towns have vitality. Refugee camps move one hex per campaign turn until they settle at least two hexes from old location. Refugees can merge with another town. The tent city becomes a new zone. This weakens is the town by three. A refugee camp is a tent city with few permanent structures. Needs upgrades to be considered a proper fraction hold. Camps happen if a hold collapses. Bigger cities = bigger scale. Districts surround important buildings. What about fire? Raid no fire, except as distraction. wants loot . Conquest, fire a favored tactic. Every building is a zone. Need a N/S/E/W zone for enemy approach. Zone zones can be set up prior to combat. Win or lose an attack reduces a hold challenge by three maybe four. Recover at one per campaign turn. Don’t track individual building health recovery. Too fiddly. Holding falls to chaos if all buildings are set ablaze. How are holdings attacked? If no PC present then single contested role faction versus holding. Good for offscreen actions. But what about PCs? Buildings can be injured injury level listed on building stat block. Unopposed enemies will attack the building in their zone. Fire! On GM turn roll for burning building. On a one add injury and the fire spreads. Villagers will try to put out fire if no enemy in zone. There’s more but frankly, this is exhausting. I’ve been typing it forever so I’m going to stop here. If you’re curious maybe I’ll publish the whole rule set someday.
Screenshot of a google search. The search term is "cthulhu's" and the auto completes (based on popluar other searches) include "cthulhu mythos", but also include "Is cthulhu real" and "cthulhu real photo".
Punch cards tied together with strings to make long ribbons that hang in accordion patterns waiting to be loaded into a loom, looking somewhat like a technological beehive.
A green expanse of rain soaked front yard, a magnolia tree in the foreground with an oversized wind chime hanging in its branches, a maple tree and a holly tree in the back. All leaves, slicked darker green as the gray sky drops water down on the verdancy below.
Adrift Among the Bodies of the Dead After the calamity, the infinite dark between the stars felt crowded by refugees on ships meant for fewer people and finite trips. They drifted out, directionless, past the fractured settlements on the moon and Mars. Still too close to what was, and too much risk given what happened. In the second generation, those who survived in their home-ships now cannibalized the skeletons of the less fortunate vessels. The great luxury-gardens that centered themselves on these cruisers now burst with food, air, and their own weather patterns. Military mecha were dusted off, and they scavenged and fought on any moon and scattered space debris large enough to hold them. Anything for celestial superiority, to build their homes and their machines bigger, stronger, better. The third generation expanded their ships; their mecha, and their operations. They fled to farther stars, populations in space stations and on planets booming while lives were lost in petty disputes. The further they fled from the devastation of their home, the faster they built settlements and claimed territory. Mechs were destroyed, and from the ashes they were reborn from the parts that remained. Pilot and mech merged as one and became more than war heroes; they became celebrities, explorers, pioneers who lit up the dark so that everyone else may see the way. They became Lamplighters. The fourth generation discovered the titans. No probe had yet reached these dead gods whose frozen bodies spanned hundreds of miles, and all soon discovered the strength of their bones for weaponry. Strange dreams plagued the home-ships near to these titans, but it did nothing to push them away. Rare pieces of titan-bone were integrated into the mechs, but it was a difficult material to work with. Some pilots reported odd behavior from their mech. Most did not notice a difference between bone and steel. You are the fifth generation.
Adrift Among the Bodies of the Dead After the calamity, the infinite dark between the stars felt crowded by refugees on ships meant for fewer people and finite trips. They drifted out, directionless, past the fractured settlements on the moon and Mars. Still too close to what was, and too much risk given what happened. In the second generation, those who survived in their home-ships now cannibalized the skeletons of the less fortunate vessels. The great luxury-gardens that centered themselves on these cruisers now burst with food, air, and their own weather patterns. Military mecha were dusted off, and they scavenged and fought on any moon and scattered space debris large enough to hold them. Anything for celestial superiority, to build their homes and their machines bigger, stronger, better. The third generation expanded their ships; their mecha, and their operations. They fled to farther stars, populations in space stations and on planets booming while lives were lost in petty disputes. The further they fled from the devastation of their home, the faster they built settlements and claimed territory. Mechs were destroyed, and from the ashes they were reborn from the parts that remained. Pilot and mech merged as one and became more than war heroes; they became celebrities, explorers, pioneers who lit up the dark so that everyone else may see the way. They became Lamplighters. The fourth generation discovered the titans. No probe had yet reached these dead gods whose frozen bodies spanned hundreds of miles, and all soon discovered the strength of their bones for weaponry. Strange dreams plagued the home-ships near to these titans, but it did nothing to push them away. Rare pieces of titan-bone were integrated into the mechs, but it was a difficult material to work with. Some pilots reported odd behavior from their mech. Most did not notice a difference between bone and steel. You are the fifth generation.
A collection of 7 polyhedral dice, the traditional set used when playing RPGs, sitting on a worn leather mat. The dice are striped in bright colors but oddly matte, giving the distinct visual impression of the texture of rubber bands.
Thermometer with a glowing orange screen displaying a temperature of 100.0 degrees Fahrenheit.
Popular meme format of a surprised looking woman smiling with text superimposed that says "The What", in an attempt to impart shock and surprise. This version is modified with a screenshot from a Bluesky post that says "Nora Roberts first 100 books" with the overlay text of the meme adjusted to say "Her. What."
Photo of a sprawling dungeon complex littered with figurines and dice, all at miniature/DnD scale, hand painted and occupying an entire table.
A photo of a pack of pliers including a pair of knipping pliers held together with a zip tie.
Photograph of a 2-part shell for a mechanical device, clearly 3d printed, but using a wood-fiber filament that gives a distinct matte finish.
An old-school informational or warning poster that reads: Know your nearest numbers station, it could save your life. The poster depicts a stylized radio tower in a pine forest with radio waves emanating from it and a subtle random number background. The style evokes an older era and a kind of earnest caution we don't see in the modern age.
A warning/informational sign that reads: "Lycanthropy is not a joke. It CAN happen to you! Schedule your boosters today. The sign is designed to look like an old-school warning poster, like something you'd find literally in an old school.
Warning sign in old WW2 style depicting two hands and some dialog: "May I have your name" "N.O." Followed by informational text saying: Remember Nomenclature Opsec (with N and O underlined). When dealing with suspected Fae NAMES HAVE POWER. The poster is black text on a faded green background meant to evoke subtle age, like something you'd find in a disused facility or installation.
A photo of an isle in a hardware store featuring lamps built around LED strips in strange organic forms.
Cartoon image of a horned woman smugly saying "It's not Save Scumming, it's distilling life experience."
Text art of a bunny holding up a sign, the sign says "SAVESCUMMING IS A CIVIL RIGHT".
Two figures sit on a balcony overlooking an impossible landscape, a rolling fog bank from which emerge mountainous stone forms of long-dead armored gods. These ancient figures stare unblinking towards the dawn, their majestic forms converted long ago into apartments and workshops. Windows and doors dot their surface. Their red stone glows against the same dawn that slowly burns the fog away. One figure, a blond woman with a glowing gem embedded in her forehead sips from a clay cup and says "This can't be real." The grey stone statue next to her sips from their own cup and says "A narrow concept. This is Throne, Domain of Kings."
A kitchen punter piled high with 8 4 POUND bags of vegan cheese. Like seriously, it’s a lot of cheese. What the heck?
Chart titled "Most presidents have never been charged with a felony." The chart shows all US presidents and a huge red spike over Donald J. Trump, who's been charged with 91 felonies. Below this are two bullet points: - The average US president has been charged with 2 felonies - The fact is a a result of former President Donald J Trump being a statistical outlier: he alone has been charged with 91 felonies. Below this is a paragraph which reads: Trump has become an unfortunate statistical outlier in the nations 247 year history, comparable only to "Spiders Georg", a fictional person dreamed up by a Tumblr user who "live in a cave and eats over 10,000 [spiders] each day" and is solely responsible for upping the average number of spiders eaten by each person each year.