| abstract
| - The cardinal Directions of the compass are used as the classification of the duties of Kuei-jin within the society of the Quincunx. The direction is determined with the precise astrological date when the vampire rose from the dead and then assigned by an Elder. Although today the directions are more a subtle guess than an absolute imperative, many elder Kuei-jin honor this system and strive to place all directions into a Wu to bring Balance into the group. Direction traditionally corresponds to Yin/Yang balance—that is, high-Yin vampires are seen as being of the north or west, while high-Yang vampires take the east and south direction. These yokings aren't always true, particularly in the turbulent Fifth Age, and it can be interesting to play a vampire whose balance and direction conflict.
- There are 8 cardinal directions in NetHack. You can use either the number keys or the vi-keys: If you have a number pad on your keyboard, you can turn on the num lock and set number_pad:1 in your options to use the keys for directions and movement: To use the vi-keys for directions or movement, set number_pad:0 in your options: Whenever you are prompted for a direction, you can also use the following:
* upwards, <
* downward, >
* towards yourself, s or .
- Aerdrienya awoke with a start. In the forest, a forest. A slight mist hung around the spiky-leafed trees at a distance and everything, even the stone has a greyish-green hue. The sky is dark and the stars unfamiliar. The ambiance, some buzzing, and a hollowness that Aerdri thought would likely carry an echo far off into the unseen reaches of the foliage about her. Moisture trickled down her face into her left eye causing her to wipe her brow. She was covered in dew. Her simple cloth robes clung to her, accentuating her form in a way that made her feel entirely uncomfortable. Pulling at the fabric, she tried to loosen it up a bit but it reached out for her again, wrinkled in some areas and flat in others, mostly across her chest. Giving up she pushed herself to her feet and felt something slap at her back. Reaching around she felt... hair. It was hers, and it was long. Tied back into a tight tail it stretched all the way down to the small of her back. Surprised, she drew it over her shoulder to get a look, as if needing to actually see it to believe it. It was that same familiar emerald green she had always known but now it was streaked with long strands of silver. It seemed to have a slight emerald tint to it but it was impossible to tell with the aura of green that pulsed from everything around her. A whisper. Looking around she trained her senses in one direction, an unnerving silence blanketed the area. "Hello?", Aerdri said aloud with a confidence she had not expected. After more silence she began to move forward. Have I gone mad? she wondered. She made her way forward and began to take careful notes of everything around her. High above, the trees seemed to have growths that shone bright like the moon and cast mist filtered light throughout their leaves. The smaller plants gathered mostly in close knit groups around the bases of the trees. After second look she noticed they seemed somewhat transparent. The dew from the soft mossy ground squished between her naked toes with each step and made trailing sucking noises behind her. It reminded her slightly of the few swamps she had been to before but, in appearance, nothing here actually seemed very swamp-like. She bent to retrieve a fallen leaf. Her thumb wandered over it a moment before she tucked it into the front of her gown against her skin. As she withdrew her hand a whisper came out of the area before her and quickly fell away behind. This time she was sure it was real. Perhaps I am not mad... Just then a white rat scurried out from beneath the odd plants before her and stopped in the middle of a clear patch. Aerdri stared at it and raised a brow, Then again... It took a moment for her to gather her thoughts. She recognized this creature, as if something from another life time or from within a dream. She watched it carefully as it propped itself up on its hind feet. It rubbed at its ears and face just like many other creatures did when washing. It's tiny eyes shone bright light the growths in the trees but in a shade similar to her own hair. Kneeling down again she reached out, palm up, in a Come see, I mean you no harm gesture. The rat stopped its ritual and stared back at her. Those two tiny pinpoints of green staring, staring both at her and into her, with what seemed almost recognition. "Yes, come little one, I am a friend." she said. A whispery voice filled her mind, "Little one?" it said followed by a deep chuckle in a male voice. "Lost again are we?" Aerdri frowned and returned the rodents piercing gaze. "You know me... and it would seem that I know you as well, although I can not be sure how. Where am I and what am I doing here?" Another chuckle that both mocked and comforted at the same time. "Why... you are here... and you are here because it was needed." Her frown deepened, "Now is not the time for riddles, I have not the time... nor the patience for it." The rat hopped twice towards her before stopping again. "And where is it you need to be... little one?" Slightly taken aback at the creatures use of her own words, she made to stand up again. She could feel visible signs of frustration leaking into her body language. As she did the rat again made two further hops towards her and then shimmered brightly. A crack of light formed along the length of its spine followed by thin rays that shot out reaching up into the air above it. The light grew in intensity forcing her to narrow her eyes until they were nearly shut. Moments later the same voice spoke, before her this time though, rather than just a whisper in her head. "Open your eyes little spark and realize again what you already knew." Just as she was about to, two gentle hands cupped her arms. Emotions washed over her, but neither rage nor fear were among them. Standing before her now was a tall handsome elder kaldorei whose smile she could never forget... it was her father... Vinicus... Vinicus of Autumnsrest. "Father?" she whispered as she bowed her head both out of respect and a bit from fatigue. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Yes, it is I, but you did already know, didn't you." said as a statement of fact. She could only nod her head as she returned his embrace. When she did, what seemed like a life time of memories reverberated through her, but they were not just her memories. The memories of countless others swirled into her conscious and subconscious mind and although confusing the euphoria that accompanied them put her at ease and left her feeling weightless. When the stream slowly subsided Aerdri drew back and looked into her fathers face. The smile had faded and had been replace with his more familiar stern and emotionless gaze that she remembered as a child. His smile was rare but she remembered it with great detail and love because it was such a rarity. "Father... where are we exactly? Is this the Dream?" His eyes lingered on her own shimmering pools for a moment longer before he looked up into the branches above. "Yes, and no, I suppose would be the best answer." She stared at him, trying to decipher another of his almost always cryptic responses. "This is not the Dream. It is your dream. Yes, the two ARE connected but this is not the reality of the state of the Emerald Dream. And not only that, this dream of yours is both a dream and not a dream." he said before looking away. "Please father, cease with the puzzles, I am not a child anymore. Just tell me what is going on." "Hmm", the closed lipped sound pressed into the air as he brought his hand up to his chin. "For lack of a better way to explain things I can only say that you are "between" worlds and at the same time remain within yourself. Our thoughts, although seemingly coming from within our minds actually reside outside of us where they mingle with other planes, other wheres and whens... yes even other times." "I still don't understand." she said, the feeling of frustration starting to come over her again. He shook his head, "You don't need to understand it. Only know that it is as close to the truth as I can explain, and that it is at the root of the reason that you are here at all." "Well then," she blurted, "why am I here?" His smile returned again. Without any further words he spun around and headed off into the trees. She remained still and watched his long silver mane flick at the air with each of his confident strides. Stopping he turned and looked back at her. "Well, come on, standing still will get you nowhere." It was something he always used to say to her when she was a child. Previous: XI. Signs and New Beginnings Next: XIII. Unfold (Part 1 & 2)
- Directing is the process of initiating and controlling movement. This happens mostly subconsciously and automatic, but we can consciously give directions as well. Directions then act as instructions to ourself, and the resulting movement is as efficient as we are capable of in any given moment in time. Alexander distinguished between general and specific directions, while insisting that the general directions always need to precede specific directions. At the beginning of learning AT, directions are most likely internally verbalised instructions (Let the neck be free, allow the head to move forward and up, let the back lengthen and widen). WIth time, experience and practice the need for explicit verbalised directions diminishes. For the moment, simply assume that a direction is something you tell yourself silently. The important thing about directing is to refrain from doing anything, yet allow movement to happen. The difference in muscle tension after I directed myself to 'let my neck be free' might not be noticeable - unfortunately, there's no bells and whistles if we do something in an efficient way. Directions address the quality of movement, and the way parts of our body move in relation to the whole body. Any voluntary movement uses directions, whether we are aware of this fact or not. During Alexander Technique lessons we bring awareness of the directions and the body map used for movement. Technically speaking, directions are energy impulses traveling along the nervous system. Our intent, manifested in electro-chemical signalling processes, produces the movement of the organism. That sounds probably more complex that necessary, let's take an example to unravel how we use directions to achieve something. If I want to have sip of coffee (intent), I pick up the cup with my hands, lift it to my mouth, carefully tip the cup towards my open mouth to pour a decent amount in, savour the taste and finally swallow the liquid content. The action of 'picking up a cup' already comprises a highly complex coordination task, which becomes obvious when we observe toddlers learning this useful skill. Our nervous system evaluates the distance between hand and cup, initiates the movement of the arm while adjusting the trajectory to the shift in weight distribution throughout the whole body, adjusts the hands to the shape of the cup, grasping it firm enough to prevent sliding, checking whether the cup isn't too hot to take, adjusts the movement of the cup towards the mouth incorporating the additional weight, moving it smoothly to prevent spilling, tilting the cup so that an adequate amount of liquid enters the mouth. We don't have to be aware of all of this. Once we acquired and trained a specific motor skill, we can use it intentionally (which can be consciously, subconsciously or a mix of both). Even while applying the Alexander Technique we don't need to bother with the gory details - we direct consciously just the head-neck-back relationship.
- The direction property is used in CSS and certain HTML elements. This property sets the direction of the text, either going from left to right or from right to left. This should normally be done as part of the document (using the dir attribute in HTML) rather than directly using it through CSS. Unlike the dir attribute in HTML, this property is not inherited from table columns into table cells, since CSS inheritance follows the document tree, and table cells are inside of the rows but not inside of the columns.
- direction is the variable that defines in which direction an object is pointing.That object will standard move the number of pixels in the variable speed in direction of the variable direction.
* 0=right, 90=up, 180=left, 270=down
- Winter stands on one side of the entrance hall, while she directs a pair of dances. Her posture is refined, back straight, as she holds one of her fans, pointing and making gestures. She nods once, makes a comment, and the dancers continue with her direciton. Norran Lomasa enters in from the cold afternoon, metallic footsteps on the marble floor sounding into the hall. This time, the armor he wears is not of imperial steel, but of shiny reflective obsidian half-plate. He wears no helm, so his curious expression is easily seen as he glances around the hall. Winter bounces her fan in a directing gesture, before she turns to greet the new guest. "Norran!-" she starts to greet him, but then blinks softly. She hmms, "Well, this is a different look for you." She says. She looks back to her students, "Ah ah, continue!" she says, and closes the distance betwixt her and Norran, "Greetings, Greetings, how are you?' "As good as I can be, Cousin. With the Blades gone, all I can really do is wander around in my armor and scare people," muses Norran in his first words, bowing his head to Winter in greeting. "I got your letter, you had something to speak to me about? I get few enough people wishing for my attention other than my wife." Winter ahs, "So, things haven't changed much in spite of the blades being gone then?" She says, smiling softly and winking to him. She nods softly, "How is the House doing?" "Now the crown isn't telling me who to scare. More fun that way," admits Norran with a sigh of mock-disappointment, chuckling and smiling to Winter with a somewhat raised brow. "I wouldn't know anything about that. No-one talks to me out of our House, these days." Winter grins softly, and giggles, "Well it does sound like you're getting along well enough." She says. She ahs, and nods softly, "Well, in that case, dear Norran...Where would you LIKE the House to be heading?" "Somewhere other than nowhere," continues Norran, managing a smirk toward Winter as he continues to speak. "I can't say much of anything, until the proper declarations are made. Is there something you wished to talk to me about directly, or are you going to continue dancing around it?" Winter nods, "An agreeable direction, certainly. But a direciton that requires focus." She adds. She hmms, and cants her head softly, "Proper declerations? Of what order?"S he says. She hmms, "Nothing direct, actually." "I'm certain you requested my presence because you hear whispers that Norran Lomasa may become the next...important figure of House Lomasa. Nothing but rumor as of yet, but if I am to be chosen it will be either Imperial edict or those within us to nominate me. Until that happens, I am just another lowly Viscount that wanders around with his horse and his lance." Once his words are finished, Norran idly shifts his weight to another foot as he watches Winter's face intently. Winter ahs, and considers, "Well certainly, if you consider that something direct. IF you are to be the Patriarch of our honored household, then I already look to you for direction. That is why you are here." she says. "That said, where does our house go?" To this, all Norran can do is shift his armored shoulders into a shrug. "As I have said, I am no-one's Patriarch as of yet. Although these rumors may have been a pleasing caress to my ego, I've not been so confident as to begin making plans. All I can say is that I will strive to earn back the respect our House once had and will not tolerate the ignoble actions of the rest of us any longer, lest we turn into the Vozhd-Kahars or the Seamels." Winter nods softly, "But anyone in a house with no direction can give the house direction. I look to you Norran. You are more experienced in these matters than I. You don't need to be the patriarch to make plans Norran." she says. "If this house were to have direction, you could at the least push for it, but what should you push for?" "I just /told/ you!" returns the Lomasa with a tired laugh, reaching up to rub at his forehead with an armored hand. "To hold our House's honor and respect. Do you expect any sweeping declarations from me? Triple the amount of outhouses in East Leg? No Lomasa child can ever be named 'Dianna' again? Make war on the Seamels for proclaiming to be better horsemen than us?" The young nobleman breathes a sigh, shaking his head slowly. "The first thing I'd do is establish a Lomasa Order of Knights, and then join it myself. That is my only plan." "Sweeping declerations no. A little direction for a house that you say has none, yes." She says. She giggles softly and shakes her head softly, "I'm not asking for any of that. I'm just asking a little direction." she says. "Northeast," responds Norran immediately, frowning a little bit in annoyance at Winter's persistance. "That's the direction. Does that please you?" Winter sighs, "You say our house is heading nowhere. And when asked where you'd like it to head, what you'd like to see it do...that's all you have? A Knight's Order, grand, and of the rest of us?" "You ask me for direction, I answer you with honor and respect. Two absolutely grand directions for this House to follow. I have not asked for this duty, I have not spent my entire life preparing for it. Those are merely my initial thoughts, and plenty of direction in them. If I am declared as our House's leader, if there is a direction to go you /will/ know of it. Until then, all badgering me will do is get you nowhere," speaks Norran, his tone quickened and a hint of frustration heard along with it as he now stares downward at Winter. "Is there something less /vague/ you'd care to ask, or would you rather continue? That way, I can leave and you can continue devoting yourself to these empty halls instead of leaving this Nillu township and doing something of your own for this House." Winter nods, and sighs softly. "I guess I really want to know what I can do for the House, or it's direction." She says. "I know Norran, I do..." She says. She nods softly, "I trust you." She says. "We'll just have to see where it goes then." She says. "I don't mean to badger at all, I look to you with respect, for guidance." She says. "I'm part of the house, I mean to act like it." She sighs, "My halls aren't empty, and I'd like to believe that anything I accomplish here reflects well upon the house. You don't need to get confrontational." "I speak the truth, Winter," Norran continues, his face turning from annoyance to more of stony seriousness. "This place has never gained the popularity you intended for it to be. You have a master jeweler work out in the cold at a koisk to gain 'public attention' for this place, but it will never work because the very /idea/ of it is flawed." He pauses a moment, tilting his head toward Winter as he folds his arms over his breastplate. "This place reminds me of another venture, the Fahral Mikin Crafting School. It sought to be a sort of all-guild, drawing people to it rather than sending them out to learn on their own. It eventually burned down, never achieving what it was intended to have." He sighs again, his expression softening faintly as he looks over to the other noblewoman. "You could do far better for House Lomasa out in Fastheld, seeking other reliable ventures than sitting the rest of your life in this doomed experiment of a place. You cannot expect things to come to you if you sit there and make your idea attractive enough, you must go out among the Citizenry." Winter furrows her brow at Norran, "I'm still working on it. Miss Moonstone is welcome to work inside, but she insists on working outside." She says. She sighs, shaking her head softly, "If you hate it so much, your welcome to leave Norran. I asked you to come so I could look to you for guideance, not so you could tell me to give up." she says. "Give up? I merely suggest to abandon a waste of your talents. Hate has nothing to do for my distaste for this place, what it /steals away/ from our House is what powers it," responds the young Lomasa, beginning to turn away from Winter as he begins to walk toward the doorway. "You could do so much better devoting your talents to greater Fastheld, than feverishly putting all your time and effort into this place, doing no good at all. Abandoning this place is no failure, failure is never leaving it while you can." Winter takes a step back and shakes her head, "So I suppose that my fantastic dance talents should be taken to Greater Fastheld?" She sighs, "I told you you can leave if you like, since you've such a distaste for this place." Norran stops before the doorway, shooting Winter a smirk over his shoulder at her last words. "If all you really believe you can do is dance, perhaps you're better off wasting away here despite the folly in your belief. Light Keep, if you ever leave this place." This spoken, he continues on his way out, armor shifting slightly in his wake. Winter shoots a glare at Norran as he exits the Center, just turning back to her students without so much as saying goodbye. She certainly doesn't look happy.
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