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It evokes the memories of two very deep, unchangeable loves. It keeps them and their love alive. Search our store You have no items in your shopping bag.

Account Register Login. Your shopping bag is currently empty. Our story At Helen Jon, we value developing products that help women live their lives most fully. Easy enough? Well, it worked just fine until our recess teacher caught wind of our playground shenanigans.

She confronted us with apparent rage and demanded we disband our game. I was different. Somehow, I'll find the truth. Why the hell did I pick the desert? Well, I suppose "pick" is a rather strong word for it. Of course, I just had to go and press another button while it was showing off one that contained miles and miles of bloody desert, and here I am.

Always leaping, never looking. Oh well, better make the best of it, and by that, I mean "better not die of heat exhaustion. At least I was thoroughly rewarded for my efforts. My hunch was spot on these big green bastards are carrying drinkable water on their backs, and thank goodness for that! I may be fighting the inevitable, though. Definitely miss Athena. The caravaners were welcoming, and the creatures they ride are fascinating.

They seem like dinosaurs, but they also appear to share some biology with camels. For all its oddities, the island never had anything like that.

Not for two seconds. There are places in its humps where you can stick a spigot and get clean drinking water. The desolate sea of sand that apparently surrounds the livable portion of the desert on all sides. Now those dunes can't literally be endless, but it's easy to see why one would think that. Not only do they, stretch on to the horizon, but they're home to get to I laughed that off at first.

Then I saw a creature the size of a train burst up from the sand and devour a wild morellatops that had wandered into its territory. I suppose I'll just have to learn to walk without rhythm They are a natural barrier. If this whole place is a space station posing as a real ecosystem, then it needs to keep the wildlife and humans inside it contained in a way that appears natural.

The island accomplished that by simply being an island, and the desert does it via the Death Worms. Granted, a large population of predators with ludicrous kilocalorie needs would never last long in a place as devoid of prey, but as this is an artificial environment, the station can feed or, replace the Death Worms as needed. It's a little convoluted, but it makes sense. Like the island, this desert is a space station posing as a natural environment.

It is inhabited by a large population of dangerous, genetically engineered creatures, and a small population of humans that are struggling to survive. This whole environment is then deliberately contained by a combination of a holographic horizon and natural barriers.

Assuming the other space stations are at all similiar, then this whole thing is starting to look like some kind of bizarre experiment on a grand scale. Yes, each station would represent an experimental group, and I'll have to continue this later.

One of the caravan's scouts just returned in a panic. Something about rocks being alive, which is of course ridic. Compared to yesterday, that seems commonplace. As the scout had so eloquently put, the rocks were indeed alive. Alive, in the shape of a massive, bipedal golem and exceedingly angry. I was too shocked to scatter like the others when it charged, and for a moment, I was certain that I would die. Then something even more ludicrous happened - lightning crashed into the golem, but it didn't come from the sky.

It came from the mouth of a bloody dragon. I don't recall much else. Fear and instinct pretty much took over for the rest of the day, and while that helped me survive, I'm once again on my own. Rather, the wyvern did. Two legs means its a wyvern. Strewth, listen to me, fighting to survive and still finding time for semantics.

The rider was covered up too well to get a good look at them. Could it have been Mei Yin? No, that's stupid. I don't know if she's even alive, much less in this desert with me. It would be just like her though, to have tamed the meanest thing here so quickly. It's nice to pretend that a friend might be looking out for me, at least.

We were sort of mates, right? Sort of. I could really use one right now. A friend, I mean. The little fuzzball isn't exactly what I meant, but I'll take her.

I've dubbed her species Renopila Amplexus. They're small, cuddly little herbivores, and as far as I can tell, taming one has no practical use.

I just couldn't let the her starve to death, though. I guess all this rubbish with golems and wyverns has quelched what was left of my scientific instinct to leave nature to nature. At least we provide each other with a little warmth at night, and her antics have helped to keep my spirits up.

I suppose I'll need to give her a name. Earlier today, my furry new companion started bouncing around so excitedly that I couldn't calm her down, and then soon enough it started raining. I brushed that off as a coincidence, but soon after filling my waterskins and setting off once more, she started acting skittish.

I decided to find shelter just in case, and within minutes light rainfall had turned into an electrical storm. I'll need more evidence to draw any firm conclusions of course, but I wouldn't mind having a fuzzy little weather radar with me. You know It's a little on the nose, but Radar's not a bad name.

That's twice now that I've stumbled into my own salvation. I can't count on that happening again. I'll need to stay here for a while and prepare before setting out once more. Fortunately, the villagers are willing to let me trade work for supplies and shelter. Another stroke of luck, and another factor I can't rely on. On the Island, Rockwell's name got me far, but here I'm just another stranger. Not everyone will trust or help me. I need to be prepared to survive on my own. At least then I wasn't conscripted into manual labor.

Ugh, my whole body feels sore! I bet I wouldn't have to work if I were as adorable as Radar. The whole village is in love with her. I swear, they spoil her like a furry little princess. Rockwell would be livid about this arrangement. I can just hear him ranting about treating scholars with propriety. I hope the old Brit is doing well. Maybe when I've broken this mystery wide open, I'll figure out a way to get him off the Island and we can discuss it all over tea like old times.

According to my would be instructor, I wasn't a complete disaster on the firing range. I'm no pacifist. Death and violence are a part of life, that's just nature. Yet a gun still makes me a little uncomfortable.

The idea of shooting at another human just seems instinctively wrong to me. I couldn't even fire at the New Legion back on the island. But I need to pull my weight. The villagers have been welcoming and patient with me. For their sakes, I need to practice.

A hunting party spotted a swarm of giant mantises heading in our direction. Yes, giant mantises. I haven't spotted them with my own eyes, but the villagers have spoken of them every now and again. They say the insects have these little hands that can actually grip and wield weapons or tools. Sounds absolutely loony, but so is the idea of a mantis swarm at all.

They must share Ghost Mantis' distaste for cannibalism. No one seems keen on fighting them, but they're too close to outrun.

Hopefully they'll just pass us by. Despite all my practice, my rifle felt heavy and foreign in my shaking hands as the swarm advanced. Fortunately, they weren't our only visitors. The villagers erupted in cheers as lightning and fire tore through the advancing insects from above. Some chanted a name: Wali al Aswad. The rider, still hidden behind black robes, didn't acknowledge the ovation. With swift efficiency, their small flight of Wyverns decimated the Mantis swarm and made for the horizon.

Wali al Aswad I need to meet this person, if only to thank them. Some of the villagers have attached a religious connotation to the figure, believing it to be some sort of heavenly guardian who appears to worthy in their time of need, One villager is even convinced Wali is an extraterrestrial.

I don't deal in beliefs. I deal in empirical evidence, and that means nothing about Wali is certain until I can meet them. I won't forget this village's kindness, especially after granting me a morellatops and supplies for my journey, but this is why I'm here - to find answers.

With my morellatops offering a large, mobile supply of water and Radar looking out for the weather, the only threat I really have to worry about is major predators. Also giant golems. I'm actually impressed with the shape I'm in, if I do say so myself. I think I even saw some ab definition the other day.

Took me long enough. I've been living without sweets for ages, after all, You'd think I'd get fit much quicker. Great, now I miss sweets. The things I'd to do taste chocolate again I knew I was getting close when I found a series of fulgurite formations this morning, and sure enough, I spotted several wyverns later in the afternoon with a lone rider among them.

The rider clearly saw me too, because soon enough the wyverns were circling overhead. I waved and yelled in greeting, even calling out Mei Yin's name just in case. Yet without so much as a nod, the wyverns regrouped and flew off.

Wali's not a social butterfly it seems, but I'm not letting them off the hook that easily. Of course they do. I saw their wyverns land at the summit yesterday, and they haven't left. This has to be their home The paths were too narrow for my morellatops, so I had to leave it behind.

It should know to wander off if I don't return for it, not that I can really afford to worry about it. The climb's doing a fine job of kicking my ass even without distractions. I swear, if I don't have a six pack after climbing a mountain in the bloody desert, I'm going to be awfully cross.

Yet that was exactly what I heard when I finally let myself collapse and started flinging every obscenity I could think of at this damned mountain - the bemused laughter of an old woman. Wali al Aswad is definitely no guardian angel. She was quick to dismiss those particular rumors with remarks about how the gods have abandoned this wretched place. As long I avoided that subject though, she's welcomed my questions with surprising warmth, though often enigmatically.

I have a feeling that I'll need to be patient with her. She found me. While the portal I used to get here opened with little fanfare on my end, apparently the other side created quite the spectacle. According to Wali, it was easy for her to spot from atop her wyvern, and she started tailing me soon afterwards. I guess her timely interventions were no coincidence.

She didn't seem very surprised when I told her about the obelisks, their guardians or even that this desert is actually a space station. Either she knows more than she's saying, or experience has grinded the surprise right out of her. There's no replicating the feeling, and no replacement for seeing a sunrise amongst the clouds. Wali probably started these wyvern riding sessions just to give herself an escape hatch when our conversations get too personal, but I can't say I mind.

Despite their appearance, riding a wyvern is just as pleasant as riding an argentavis, even without a saddle. By design, perhaps? No matter. Genetically engineered or not, they are magnificent creatures. It's a risky proposition, but I absolutely must observe them in the wild sometime. I can't pass up an opportunity like that. From what I can gather, Wali has been here for a very long time, maybe longer than Rockwell was on the island.

She knows the history of every village and ruin. Apparently there was once a great city to the southeast, but it was wiped out at some point.

She's still mum on a lot of details, but I'll just have to keep prying. Radar's been helpful in that regard. Wali definitely seems to be in a better mood when the fuzzball's around. That little charmer's certainly earned her keep. She always says something like, "Why do you spend so much time on these scribbles that no one will read? It's true that no one else may ever read my dossiers, as I have no way to reproduce or distribute them as long as I'm trapped on one of these space stations. When I started them, they were a passion project, created out of my love for nature and its creatures.

I guess they're just part of my identity. Writing them helps remind me who I am. Wali spotted someone wandering in the desert the other day, and it turned out to be none other than Edmund Rockwell!

I just about burst into tears when I recognized him. Apparently, he heard that Nerva was holding me captive and sought to negotiate my release. That lead him to the cave, and eventually he wound up here. Awfully sweet of him to go through all that trouble for my sake! Strangely, Wali claims that she saw a portal open up far away from her territory shortly before mine did.

I guess that was Rockwell's, though Wali arrived at the scene too late to track him. Rockwell theorized that the portals may have taken us through time as well as space.

Considering my present company, I'm inclined to agree with him. I guess she's just letting us catch up. However, she did say something interesting when we were recounting Nerva's ambitions for the Island. Now it's just conjecture, but it's interesting to think about.

Could the curators of these stations be monitoring human behavior and clipping its wings should the survivors ever band together and fly too close to the sun? If each station represents a different group in a larger experiment, "resetting" human progress would make a lot of sense. It's a bit grim though, isn't it? I awoke last night to find him studying a strange piece of metal by firelight.

I guess some tribe gave it to him as a gift, along with a very familiar looking artifact. I insisted that we show those items to Wali, and she recognized them as the property of this station's lone guardian. With all that she knows, I'm not surprised that she's activated the obelisks before. Hell, it sounds like the old battle ax has even slain the beast herself!

Since we have said guardian's artifact, Wali says that we can leave this station at any time. I suppose we may as well. Rockwell's eager to depart, and as much as I like Wali, I've had my fill of sand. Wali believes that it was destroyed by the obelisks, just like the city in the southeast. I didn't press her for details, not that I'd have gotten any. Wali's more tight lipped about those ruins than anything. I had to practically beg her to take me to the southeastern city, and while we were there, she spent most of her time just gazing out into the distance.

No sense in bringing her mood down with that rubbish now. After all that she's done for me, I'd like give her a nice, proper farewell.

After doing so much for me, I was sad to see her go, but at least I got her to smile before she left. Well, me and Radar. I can't very well take the little critter with me, so I officially gave Wali ownership of her. They'll be good for each other, I think. Gah, I wrote "Wali" up there. I suppose old habits die hard, but it's not really her name, is it? I always knew that was the case, but she'd never told me to call her anything else. At least not until now. Well at any rate - cheers, Raia.

It was a pleasure to have known you. Don't get me wrong, it's fascinating too. Such an abundance of underground flora is completely unheard of, and because so many of the plants here are bioluminescent, the whole forest has an eery beauty to it. That's just it though - eery is the operative word. I've been holding my rifle so tightly since we got here that I swear I've left dents in the grip.

We should have gone back to the Island. People know us there, they might have preferred help and supplies. Rockwell didn't want to hear it though, and I wasn't about to let him come here alone. By which I mean, I shot and cursed at those things all afternoon. At least, when I wasn't running from them. Thankfully after thinning their numbers a little, they decided that Rockwell and I weren't worth the trouble. Let's hope they don't change their minds.

I'm not sure I have enough ammunition left to fend them off again. The permeability of the rocks here is astounding. The cavern walls are wet with condensation, and the floor is littered with pools of water. After all that time in the desert, this is one change I can welcome with open arms!

Thank God for hydration! I don't mean that just for my own sake, either. Rockwell seems The other day, I had to keep him from walking headlong into a poisonous mushroom. He wouldn't fare well in a harsher environment. Then again, at his age, I'm sure I'd lose a step too. That was a giant, armored mole rat. Thankfully it wasn't aggressive, so I was able to get a good look at it.

Its appearance made me realize something that I'd taken for granted. Every creature I've encountered has some basis on either a known species, or human legend. Golems and wyverns never existed on Earth, but humans did write stories about them. What does that mean? Are the curators of these stations human, do they merely possess extensive knowledge of humans or am I grasping at straws?

I can't say, but it's worth pondering. Luckily someone else did. It was incredible! I've never seen a human move that fast. One second, I'm a dead woman, and the next there's someone in glowing, silver armor tearing through those creatures like they were dodos. One got punched so hard it skipped off the cavern floor!

As if a superhuman savior wasn't shocking enough, when they lifted their visor, I found a familiar face. It was Mei-Yin! It took me a good minute to form a sentence after that. I must have looked like a complete dipstick, because I swear, she almost laughed.

At least I'm a living dipstick, and with her around, I just might stay that way. Absence makes the heart grow fonder? On the Island, I wasn't sure where I stood with Mei Yin, but now we've been catching up like best mates.

She apologized for socking me in the face, I learned how she arrived here and that she got her new scar while battling Nerva to the death Best mate things. She also introduced us to some of her new allies at her camp, and here's where it gets loony - they're from the future! Well, my future, anyway. It all fits, doesn't it? She chalks this up as a result of limited prey and decides to study them further.

She couldn't find any reason for why the Megalodons were so aggressive, but she did manage to observe their mating habits- no-one's ever witnessed great whites mating at home. She was even able to track the female for the entire gestation period which surprisingly only lasted one week. This explains why Megalodons are so common in the ocean, given that they're reproducing at "fourty-four times the rate of Aussie great whites. I'll shoot for summarizing five or six notes every post, so we're now at 11 of 26 notes.

After these, I'll summarize her Scorched Earth notes, too. Originally posted by johnstretchb :. Keep us posted. I'm back! After she decides to study captive Megalodons, on top of all the other oddities with them, the biggest shocker was how easy the sharks are to tame and train.

While she'd heard of sharks getting some training, it's never to this extent, never this easy. Simply put, most fish just aren't intelligent enough to get much out of training. The real nail in the coffin was the discovery of Procoptodons. Considering how they, along with nearly every other marsupial ever evolved exclusively in Australia sixty million years after the dinosaurs, there's no way the kangaroos should be there. And yet there they are. Ever since the revelation that the island was artificial, it began to lose its luster to Helena.

In addition, some of the tribes had begun fighting, with one in particular Gaius's New Legion! Real or not, she fears that the ecosystem might be wiped out in a great war. The tamed Megalodons stood out to Helena; it was almost like they had a genetic history of human obedience. This inspires her to begin observations on some of the tamed creatures on the island. She catches word of a single survivor that has tamed a lot of creatures herself, earning the nickname "The Beast Queen of the Jungle" who turns out later to be Mei Yin.

Helena decides to go to her for some insight. Mei Yin was less than thrilled by Helena's visit, though she was civil enough to allow her to stay. Helena considered it a blessing that Mei Yin hadn't killed her right on the spot. She notes that it's difficult examining raptor dung with somebody watching you.

She couldn't find much difference between the diets of Mei Yin's animals and the ones in the wild, though that may be because the Beast Queen takes her animals on regular hunting trips to train them.

They never have to go far to find prey either, despite the number of them and their high birth and growth rates. Meanwhile, Mei Yin starts to warm up to Helena a bit. For long domesticated animals like cats and dogs, that's normal, but the instincts of a wild animal are hard to curb. More remarkably, Mei Yin has a herd of herbivores in her posse as well, but the carnivores refuse to attack them either.

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  2. Aug 06,  · ARK: Mobile Explorer Notes Helena Discovery #1 (The Island) After weeks of chasing rumors and traipsing through murky swamplands, I finally made contact with the small, secretive tribe that claims they can resurrect dead creatures.
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  5. View credits, reviews, tracks and shop for the CD release of Sol En Si (Solidarité Enfants Sida) on Discogs. Label: WEA Music - • Format: CD Album, Enhanced • Country: France • Genre: Pop • Style: Chanson/5(5).
  6. Check out Harmonicas: The Very Best of J.J. Milteau's Harmonica Work by Jean-Jacques Milteau on Amazon Music. Stream ad-free or purchase CD's and MP3s now on inneselcavirdars.vawarcedigirelounutmolesata.cog: Helena Ark.
  7. Helena Ark. Helena Ark. Listen Now Buy: £ 6. Taj Mahal. Taj Mahal. Listen Now Buy: £ 7. Maybe as a first JJM CD, buying a double album was OTT. It's very french/european sounding and some tracks (there are 40) are weak, but when some are outstanding, there has to be the other end of the spectrum. Jean Jacques /5(11).
  8. Jan 08,  · This photograph, as well as a call for assistance to determine my Porter family's relationship to the men in the picture, was first published in a post I wrote for the Attala County Memories blog in September The photograph, actually a "picture postcard" that I found in my grandmother's photo album, is my submission to Smile for the Camera, 9th Edition, "Who .
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