#Screwy Visits

[the-operated]

I've concluded that The Operator simply wanted to make his own telenovela but due to his effect on people, it went a little sideways

#Screwy Visits #Marble Hornets #Crack headcanon

[hisfavoritewolf]

Considering just making this an ask blog. I only really like rping on Discord at this point bc I have no idea how to cut posts here so I can't organize it how I like.

So I guess if you wanna interact with my Fenris or Cole uh shoot me a dm and I can invite you to my rp server (It's an open multiverse server. You basically just make channels for different threads and plot with other folks. All kinds of fandoms there)

#Screwy Visits

[poppyfieldrot]

A Wire account for Lawrence! It's quick interaction for when full threads are Difficult. It's fun, haven't done it in a while. People sort of fell out of it which made me kinda sad.

#Screwy Visits #Boyfriend to Death rp #Lawrence Oleander rp

[bluebxmfing]

I just realized Kurt has blue hair and pronouns

#Screwy Visits

[iamcole]

Back from my vacation! Had a shit ton of fun, gonna miss that hot tub, gonna miss the people I spent the past week with. But I’m back, babes!

#Screwy Visits

[generalsilverhawke]

Not me promoting @those-trapped-between

It's my side blog here, all the lads are very fun. Very multiversal in a different sort of way. Universe hopping is canon for them!

#Screwy Visits

[actiongrrl]

The Hospital Thread™ @darkstarsrise

−−−¨༺ Time had gone screwy for her. For 12 straight hours, she was so focused on seeing the light of day. That was her goal throughout the previous night. Save herself, and then once shit hit the proverbial fan, save her friends. But now? She wasn't sure how long she had been here or, really, even what time it was. But for what felt like many long hours, she had been hooked to various IVs and tubes, trying to get her body temperature up as the blonde was hypothermic when she arrived. "A warm IV and blood rewarming," a nurse with a kind smile had explained. The thought skeeved her out, and Sam could see the panic in her eyes. The lot of them had come in and caused a trauma alert. She remembered that much.

−−− Some of the others were taken to other hospitals as not to put a strain on this one, and Sam was insistent she stayed wherever Mike was. She was, frankly, surprised the second that remark left her mouth; Out of everyone, maybe Chris would have made most sense. Luckily, Mike was already slated to stay. And so it was a waiting game of blankets, warm fluids, medicine, tubes, stitches, concussion protocol, and the world's most uncomfortable bed.

−−− She dozed off, finally, but was reawakened for another blanket change and vital check by another nurse. "If you want to, I'll take you to visit your friend," she had said, which perked Sam up, eyes wide and heart pounding. And the next thing she knew she was being covertly wheeled into Mike Munroe's hospital room, a feeling of relief washing over her immediately as she was parked.

#i need to make a tagging system whoops #PARA [🦋]- that you've don't know what you've got 'til it's gone #[🦋]- STARTER #[🦋]- darkstarsrise #[🦋]- Mike Munroe #verse [🦋] main // you have to go into the mines

[hermannsthumb]

omg could we see #62 from the winter prompts list?

62. you’re my college roommate’s sibling/best friend and you’ve come to visit for a week since you’re done school but unlike some people, I have three more finals to study for so kindly fuck off

from winter writing prompts here

stuck on some of my other wips so i'm digging back through my old unfilled winter prompts!! from. well. 2018. can you believe i've been writing fic this long. insane.

enjoy some dumb (sort of?) college boys newmann! I decided to cheat with the prompt a little (a lot) so I could work it to be conceivably not an AU but instead set pre-canon, though I realize it techhhhnically screws around with the newt/herm penpal backstory just a tiny little bit....

------------------------------------

To be honest Newt’s probably paying more for year-round university housing then he would be in rent at an actual apartment at this point, but details like that get a little screwy when you start college significantly before your eighteenth birthday and grow up on campus. His dorm holds more sentimental value than his childhood home at this point. I mean, it technically is his childhood home. Newt did try the spring of his twenty-first birthday to finally move out, but he spent exactly two minutes poking through a Cambridge housing group on Facebook before it made him want to die and he gave up. At least this way he doesn't have to buy new furniture.

He has enough good will left with administration despite all the shit he's pulled to leverage certain things like that in his favor, and he struck a deal to keep his dorm in exchange for letting campus housing utilize it as an actual dorm from time to time. (Which is to say, Newt is kind of broke and needs to save money from his stipend every now and then for, you know, groceries, so he can grit his teeth and deal with a roommate when the time comes.)

His roommate at the moment is a German exchange student (maybe one or two years younger than Newt) who’s currently enrolled in a year-long study abroad program to mess around with electrical engineering—interesting enough guy with just enough neuroses and weird family issues to make Newt feel like the most well-adjusted twentysomething in the world. It's a great ego boost.

Anyway, it’s convenient. There are like three Dunks of varying quality to choose from at any given moment, and Newt only has to walk ten minutes max to any lecture hall to give class. This is especially nice on stupidly cold and snowy days like today where even a ten minute walk feels like too much.

The door to Newt’s dorm is slightly ajar when he finally gets home. In normal circumstances this would make Newt pause and think for a few seconds before stomping inside—rules of horror movies or whatever—because if his roommate is anything, it’s particular with things like that. Shoes off at the door, dishes left in the sink on a firm one-day-max limit, doors very much locked when they leave to protect all their super important possessions from being stolen, like the refurbished Playstation 2 Newt got off eBay or the Brita filter Newt also got off eBay. Very luxurious stuff.

But Newt’s cold and hungry, so he stomps inside anyway. He does kick his boots off, though—just because some people decided to stop following the dorm rules doesn’t mean Newt will—and makes sure to click the door shut behind him carefully. “Hey, dude, you home?” he calls down the hallway. Nothing. His roommate, Bastien, is usually in class at this time of the day, but finals have turned their schedules upside down, so who knows. He wiggles out of his winter coat and hangs it next to an unfamiliar green parka on the wall hooks (maybe Bastien went on a shopping spree?) and tries a second time. “Uh, you know you left the door open?”

Newt's glasses are splattered with melted snow, and he dries them on the hem of his sweater as he fumbles with the door to their room—and is more than a little surprised when he sees the blurry shape of Bastien sitting primly on the edge of his bed, smoothing out his clothing like he’s just woken up from a nap. His bed as in Newt’s bed. Newt startles backwards. “Oh,” he says. “Um. Hey?” Has he fucked up? Are they having a roommate talk about something? …Preceded by Bastien inexplicably taking a nap in his bed?

He pushes his glasses back on. The dark-haired blur on his bed comes into focus, and though the sharp angles, bad haircut, and vaguely sickly pale flush are reminiscent of Newt’s roommate, everything else about him is different, from the brown eyes to the wide frown. It’s a Gottlieb, no question, but which one Newt’s not sure. He knows there are at least three more of them, a concept which has always struck fear into Newt’s heart each time Bastien alludes to having siblings. “Hello,” the guy on Newt’s bed says. He nods. Very proper. “You’re Newton.”

“…Yeah?” Newt says.

The mysterious Gottlieb is kind of hot, which is the worst part. The whole stern professor look he’s rocking—big glasses, knit sweatervest, slightly too-big loafers—is doing him plenty of favors. Normal circumstances, Newt thinks again, coming home to a hot nerd lounging in your bed? It might almost make him believe in a higher power. It’s taking a significant amount of effort to not start flirting. Then again, he is in Newt's bed, and has been clearly been sleeping in Newt's bed, which feels like a flirtation in and of itself.

“Hermann Gottlieb,” the professor-dude says. He gets to his feet with the aid of a cane, which he’d hooked on one of Newt’s bedposts and offers a hand out to Newt like they’re both eighty years old. Mildly bewildered, Newt takes it. He's treated to a firm handshake. “I assume my brother told you to expect me? I let myself in. I hope that’s not too rude of me, but it was rather cold out.”

“Uh,” Newt says again. He’s a lot more…British than Newt expected. Very posh BBC-miniseries about posh English people with large country estates. Especially compared to Bastien, whose first language is clearly German and is very much not British—it’s just not exactly what Newt was expecting. “I mean—he didn’t totally tell me you were coming. Or, at all.” Hermann drops his hand. “I guess he could’ve mentioned it and I just forgot.” This is probably what happened. Newt’s been a little busy lately.

He decides to address the elephant in the room next, the bed thing, and determine if it was a deliberate choice or not. Maybe Bastien has made Newt out to be so irresistible in whatever he’s reported back to the Gottlieb family that Hermann decided to try his luck. This is definitely not the case, but Newt can pretend. “You’re on my bed,” he continues, and points across the room. “Bastien’s is that one.”

“Oh,” Hermann says. He looks mortified in a properly stiff-lipped way and almost trips over himself to cross the tiny dorm room, and for a split second Newt sees a different Hermann behind the dress shoes and exaggerated formalities: an awkward twentysomething probably barely older than Newt playing dress-up to be taken seriously. The belt he’s cinched to the last notch around the oversized waist of his tweed pants is stiff and cracked in places. Bastien mentioned once that one of his brothers is a math whiz who’s followed an accelerated academic path not entirely unlike Newt’s, and Newt suddenly has a strong hunch he’s looking right at him. “I’m—I’m very sorry. I didn’t realize. My flight only just got in, and the time zones—I was a bit tired.”

“No worries, man,” Newt says. He tosses his tote bag onto the Hermann-sized indentation in his bedspread and kicks his docs off one at a time, while across the room Hermann twists the handle of his cane between his hands. “You want some coffee or something? Bastien is usually out until late on Thursdays, so it might just be us for a while, sorry.” He pulls the sweatshirt he’d slung on his desk chair that morning down over his head and straightens out his glasses.

The offer for coffee is a somewhat-pitying lifeline Newt is decent enough to throw out, which he has a feeling both of them understand. Hermann seizes it desperately. “Coffee would be nice,” he says.

He trails after Newt into the kitchen. Apartment-style or not, it’s still a campus dorm, and the kitchen space is cozy at best and cramped at worst. Hermann plasters himself against a row of cabinets in a heroic effort to stay out of Newt’s way as Newt dumps some coffee grounds and water into his cheap pot and digs two mugs out of the cupboard. They avoid making eye contact at all costs while it percolates. “We have, like,” Newt gestures vaguely at the doorway, “a couch? If you wanted to sit? And not stand here?”

“I don’t mind,” Hermann says.

Newt kind of minds, but whatever, he can deal. He pours soy milk into one mug in preparation and offers some to Hermann, who shakes his head. The coffee drips slowly into the pot. Newt thinks about the stack of ungraded finals tucked into a binder in his tote bag, the other stack waiting on his desk, and the final final he still has to proofread and send off to Copytech for, like, seventy copies by tomorrow. “So, Hermann,” Newt says, and tries to think of a polite way to ask why exactly are you in my apartment during finals week? Does the guy not also have finals in England or wherever? “Are you just visiting your bro for fun, or…?”

Hermann’s face twists with a sour expression. “For a week,” he says. “Not all that willingly. I’m in town for a conference and I won’t have my hotel room until tomorrow morning. Bastien offered to let me use his couch for the night.” He adds hesitantly, “I’m due to give a presentation on Tuesday.”

A lecture: almost definitely the math whiz, then, unless overachieving is a family trait. Newt will circle back to that later. He’s not exactly a math expert, but you kinda can’t really pick up that many STEM doctorates without having at least a basic (or, you know, decently advanced) understanding of, uh, everything about math, and he’s keen to hear what Hermann plans to lecture on. “I’ll try to stay out of your hair,” Hermann adds quickly. “I know you’re busy with final exams and whatnot.”

“Ugh, no kidding,” Newt says. The coffee finally finishes with a few rattling huffs, and Newt carefully pours it into their mugs and shoves the less-chipped one over to Hermann. “I still have another left to go,” he continues. “I got stuck with three whole sections this semester, it sucks. I think they just wanted to get back at me for—well, um, I caused a minor fire in the lab last year and they had to evacuate a few buildings, and I put it out right away because I'm the king of lab safety, but whatever, everyone lost their shit anyway. It’s going to take me forever to grade everything.”

Hermann frowns at him, and Newt wonders exactly how much Bastien has shared about his American roommate—or in this case how little. “Not a student,” he explains. “Dr. Geiszler, technically, but do not call me that. I managed to convince the biology department head to convince student life to let me keep living on campus after I—well, I guess I technically graduated undergrad a while ago. After I wrapped up my first PhD?”

“Ah,” Hermann says, and the edges of his sharp cheekbones going the faintest shade of pink. “I’d assumed—Bastien didn’t mention that, is all.” His eyes flick over Newt twice, scrutinizing him and lingering on his oversized hoodie, a DIY screen-print job bearing the latest logo for Newt’s band that he tried valiantly to sell at their last show. “First PhD? Exactly how old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” Newt says. “I skipped a grade. Or ten. Would not recommend it. Anyway, Hermann, you’re some sort of super-genius, right? You were doing calculus in your crib or something?”

If Newt’s right about which brother Hermann is, that means—compared to the rest of his family—Bastien has alluded to Hermann’s existence in all but name three whole times. By familial standards Newt can only assume that means they’re practically BFFs and probably send each other birthday cards every year. If possible Hermann might be even more reserved than Bastien, though, and it’s making Newt want very badly to prod him a little more just to see what happens. Get him to poke his head out of his shell or something. “That’s pretty impressive, you know,” he adds.

Hermann flushes pink for real this time, obviously pleased with the compliment, and Newt’s equally pleased to see him hold his head a little higher. They’re getting somewhere. “It’s not precisely that dramatic,” Hermann says. “But, yes, er—I started university at a rather young age. Comparatively. Before that, my father sent me abroad when I was eight for my schooling. I’d shown a knack, I suppose, for mathematics, and…”

Abroad—Newt guesses that explains the different accent. Not unlike Newt himself. He wonders if Hermann’s family ribs him for the lapses in his German the way Newt’s family does (America is rotting your brain, Newt!), though maybe somewhat less gently. “And?”

“I’ll finish my doctorate in the spring,” Hermann finishes, with a small smile.

“Dr. Gottlieb,” Newt says. “Nice. I like the sound of that.”

Hermann suddenly spills a large amount of coffee down the front of his sweater. He doesn’t seem to notice, though his ears (which stick out just a little) do go red, so Newt doesn’t say anything.

It’s unfortunate how cute Hermann is. Newt briefly debates the ethics of hitting on your roommate’s hot British brother and whether or not it breaches some sort of sacred roommate code. On the one hand, Hermann is only here for a week, so it’s not like they can get up to too much, and Bastien himself will be packing everything back up for Germany in like, six months tops when his study abroad program ends in the spring anyway. And besides, it’s not like Newt and Bastien are tight or anything like that. On the other hand—I mean, that would be weird, right? You can’t just hit on your roommate’s hot British brother, especially not when he's sleeping on your couch for the night.

Newt has over a hundred final exams to grade, and a suitcase to pack for his own trip (albeit one that’s a maybe-thirty minute ride on the commuter rail) out to his dad’s for the break. He kinda wants to hit on Hermann.

He’s going to hit on Hermann.

“Sooooo,” he begins, “you got any plans, or—?”

And it’s then that Hermann’s cell phone begins to buzz in his pocket. “Ah,” Hermann says. “One moment—apologies.” He pulls out a battered flip phone that looks like it’s been passed down from at least two other people and squints at the screen. “My brother,” he explains, “at last. He’s finishing up at the library and wants to meet for dinner.”

“Oh, right,” Newt says. “Of course. Duh.”

Hermann closes his phone slowly and hazards a small, but considering, glance at Newt, and Newt has a fleeting suspicion he’s not the only one weighing the pros and cons of risky flirting. He might just be flattering himself, though. “…Would you like to join us?” Hermann says. “I’m sure Bastien wouldn’t mind. It might be…” He works his jaw a few times. It’s incredibly cute. He’s clean-shaven in a way Newt hasn’t managed to be since he turned seventeen (the Geiszlerian curse of thick facial hair whether you want it or not), and it makes him look even more like a weird kid trying very hard to be an adult. “Fun.”

It's a bad idea. Hermann’s only here for a week, and he’ll clearly be busy with his conference and his big talk and all that, and then they’ll be back on opposite sides of the Atlantic probably forever—Newt would just be setting himself up for heartbreak. And six months of awkwardly dodging his roommate, which is possibly worse. Ugh. Being responsible sucks. “I shouldn’t,” he finally sighs. “I have to finish—”

“—your finals. Of course,” Hermann says. “Yes, of course, I’m sorry. I forgot. I’ll let you be.” He sets his mug on the counter by the sink. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Sure, dude,” Newt says.

Hermann works his jaw again, chewing at his lower lip, and then says so quickly Newt almost misses it “If you’re around next Tuesday, perhaps you would like to see my talk?”

Newt tries very hard to be chill. “Yeah, totally,” he says. “That would be awesome. I think I can make it.”

Hermann nods solemnly. “Excellent. I’ll ask Bastien to give you the details later.”

He finally begins to dot at the coffee stain on his sweater with a handkerchief he pulls from a different pocket, and Newt squeezes past him to rinse their mugs out. (No dishes in the sink overnight.) His elbow brushes against Hermann’s as he dries them with a dishtowel. Hermann makes no effort to move away from him, and this close he smells like stale cigarette smoke. Newt can imagine him standing out in the rain in a dreary English landscape somewhere, maybe in the oversized coat he saw hanging by the door, scowling and crushing cigarette filters beneath his cane.

There’s something strangely magnetic about Hermann.

“Hey, listen,” Newt says. He dries his hands off on his pants. Hermann looks at him, abandoning his efforts to clean himself up. “You wanna swap emails or anything…? Maybe we could talk. Collaborate on, uh, something.” He has absolutely zero idea of Hermann’s subfield so he doesn’t know exactly what they’ll collaborate on just yet, but he’ll think of something. Make some notes during the Tuesday lecture. Newt has three PhDs and counting, he can come up with an excuse to talk to a cute boy, okay, he’s not twelve. He’d ask for Hermann’s number like a normal human being if he could dream of affording the international texting rate.

Hermann gives him another stiff nod and the shadow of a smile, which Newt hopes means an enthusiastic yes, Newt, I’d love to be your penpal!, so Newt fishes a pad of paper and a pencil out from the kitchen junk drawer and they take turns printing their emails out as neatly as possible. Hermann folds the slip of paper with Newt’s in half and slips it into his top pocket. “It was very good to meet you, Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann says, and he offers Newt a parting handshake.

What the hell, Newt thinks, and takes it.

It takes ten months and a split in reality at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean for Hermann to get around to emailing Newt. Newt expects they’ll have a lot to collaborate on in the near future.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag

[triscribeaucollection]

The Big One

So.

I’ve managed to get myself back into an MCU mindset, and have decided The Time Has Come to start working on my master fix-it fic. Or rather, what’s going to become my master fix-it fic series.

The to-do list so far includes:

-Natasha comes back after Steve returns the Soul Stone, but thanks to time travel screwiness she pops back into the Compound with everyone else and participates in the final battle against Thanos

-Tony still sacrifices himself, BUT! Another version of him, from a timeline where they lost the final fight and Thanos decided to be petty by erasing the entire human race from existence except Tony, gets brought to this universe a couple years later. Supposedly the two are nearly identical up to that fight, so he’s more than a little alarmed when no one recognizes the name Peter Parker

-Steve puts all the Stones back and comes home, passes on the shield to Sam, and moves on with his life instead of that bullshit ending that made no damn sense for his characterization

(-I have yet to watch Falcon and the Winter Soldier, so I dunno what will or won’t remain the same with those two, but I can promise There Will Be Shenanigans)

-WandaVision mostly plays out as per canon, but dagnabit, I want my Scarlet Witch to remain a superhero and a decent person. So! She stumbles across America Chavez, they find a universe where Agatha won and kept Billy and Tommy around as pets/servants, kick her ass, and bring the boys back with them to start a new life

-Eventually Vision will return as well, with newly constructed Viv as a peace offering. The twins are quite taken with their android sister and immediately start figuring out the best ways to get into trouble together

-May Parker receives medical attention soon enough to survive her wounds, albeit in a coma; Peter can’t legally visit her in the hospital but sneaks in a few times as Spider-man, and I promise I’ll eventually have her wake up for their tearful reunion, just gotta get through a few other things first

-Back to Tony: it’s a little awkward, feeling like he’s taking over another man’s life, but Morgan’s delighted by this turn of events and that’s really hard for anyone else to argue with. Even so, as grateful as he is to get his family back, Tony can’t help but feel frantic over what the heck happened to his other kid. The photo of him and Peter is still in the kitchen, and Pepper recognizes it when he shows her, knows that it’s been there ever since they moved into the house, but she has no clue who the kid is

-Eventually we get a big family reunion style event with all the Avengers and spouses and kids, new and old, and from there find a way to bring Peter back into the fold with a handy dandy loophole to restore memories of him at the same time. There will be fluff. There will be tears. There will be old characters and extra ones, a few gratuitous mentions and some background cameos, and I’ll find a way to wrap it all up with a big bow

...

-With an Epilogue, of course, featuring my Champions kids, because they’ve given us a fantastic Kamala Khan and I need to build on that

#marvel #mcu #endgame fix it #alternate timelines #comic book logic #I have been slowly building this thing up in my head for YEARS okay #reading a bunch of irondad hurt/comfort fics recently has made it a new priority #tony stark #peter parker #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #vision #pepper potts #may parker #avengers endgame #wandavision #falcon and the winter soldier #spider man movies #ms. marvel

[mindareadsoots]

Well, that was a trip. Turns out that if Marcy goes evil, she can pretty much take the whole world with her. Pretty terrifying.

We had a relatively small cast of alternate characters this episode, but all of them were fascinating, down to the tragic hero that was Martin Mertins. But with the cliffhanger ending, it's hard to say what if any hope there is for the future of Vampire World. Maybe Blackrom Bubbline survives their fall and finds a new way forward. Maybe the world continues to rot away until baby Finn grows up and emerges as the hero they need. Who knows?

Regardless, we probably won't see them again, unless there's a montage of visited worlds at the very end of the series. So the future is open to speculation.

My work schedule is a little screwy for the next few days, so I'll be taking a break from liveblogging until Saturday. Cya then!

#adventure time #fionna and cake #minda watches adventure time #minda reads #FC07

[evolutionsvoid]

So often we view civilization's impact on a species through the lens of us taking something away. Of us coming in, destroying their habitat, overhunting their food source or just straight up removing them in general. If I were to say to someone "this species has been greatly affected by our presence," they would assume we pretty much doomed them. While indeed there are plenty of cases of us going into an untouched environment and food web to unintentionally punch a hole through the thing, there are other scenarios where we have added something to the equation rather than take. There is plenty good we do, but sometimes these new additions cause some bad. Even when it is something like "we accidentally gave this species a new food source!" Hey, that sounds good! What is the matter with giving a species new things to eat? Sure, it gives them more options and more resources to help bolster their numbers, but sometimes it can cause problems. Tipping the balance doesn't just happen by taking away weights, as you can certainly add too much to make the scales go screwy. The Pirado is the example that comes to mind on this subject. 

Now to lay out the basics, the Pirado is a flightless bird that was found on a large tropical island. This island had rainforest and palm savannas, and the Pirado stalked each. Since their wings are small and their bodies rather round, they must walk and run instead of fly. They do everything on the ground, be it attract mates, build nests, sleep and hunt. A notable thing about the Pirado is that it is not only a carnivore, but it was once the island's only large predator. It searched the forest floor and savannas for meat, feeding on lizards, turtles, small rodents and even large bugs. They possessed a large hooked beak that was perfect for seizing their prey and cracking their skulls. They would either be swallowed whole or torn into pieces for easier eating. Though a predator, they weren't exactly intimidating, as they stood only a foot and a half tall (and a little more if you counted the odd feather "horn" the males have). But to the fauna of the island, they were scary enough for them! But all that changed when the ships came and strangers from the outside world came visiting.

Sadly, what happened next was all too common back then, when folks didn't think twice about the fragility and uniqueness of island ecosystems. People came to shore, saw nice land and edible inhabitants, and figured it was a good place to set up shop. Since this island was close to a popular trade route, it was believed it would be the perfect place to restock during the long trip. Folks got to work setting up a little settlement, while also introducing their own fauna to help liven up the menu. Pigs and goats were the main addition, as they were hardy animals that could eat pretty much anything. Some newcomers weren't put there intentionally, like the ship rats who scurried off board and vanished into the wilds. All these new species came pouring into this isolated ecosystem, seeing plenty of niches to fill. The travelers who let this all be didn't see a problem, as it was just another island, just another stop. What was the issue? Well, we now know full well what the problem was, and unfortunately have plenty of examples to point to. The new additions to the island disrupted the ecosystem, competing for resources with the locals, or just straight up preying on animals that didn't know how to defend themselves against such a strange new creature. The Pirado was one of these locals affected by all this, and many would assume they would join the grave of the others, but fate went a different route for this bird. 

The rats that swarmed the island and feasted upon undefended birds' nests were certainly a scourge, but the Pirado saw something else in them. They looked similar enough to their usual rodent food, but these ones were just bigger! It wasn't long before the Pirado started eating these rats, using their usually weaponry to crack them open and gobble them down. With all these rats now, there was much more food than they were used to, and they were the main predators! A whole new feast, just for them! So now the Pirado population was strangely getting a boost, as they had an easier time filling their bellies! But there was another issue. The pigs that now roamed this island were omnivores, and bigger than the Pirado. Sure, some of these swine may take a nip at these birds, but they were more interested in their ground nests. Tasty eggs like that are a treat for any animal, and the pigs were eager for the Pirado's nests. Since they were bigger animals, they could bully these flightless birds and gobble up their young, but some of the Pirado did not let this happen. They used their sharp beaks and talons to fight back, "convincing" the swine to leave their nests be and go after more vulnerable eggs. So now the Pirado that were surviving this new horde were the ones aggressive enough and bold enough to fight back, while the more docile were weeded out. And at some point, these Pirado used their razor beaks enough to down one of these pigs, and found a liking to the taste of pork. Now the pigs were the ones on the menu, and the aggressive Pirado worked together to bring these walking meat bags down. Once again, the Pirado was back on top, but something had changed in them, and it only grew with each passing year. 

With a banquet of meat to choose from, and an invading force that made it important to be aggressive and ready to throw down, the Pirado was now going through an unintentional breeding program. The small, weak and docile were removed, while the strong and angry were rewarded. With more food to go around, the Pirado could get bigger. With the bold and hostile gaining new flesh to taste and prey to conquer, those vicious enough remained on top. Trapped on this island with this new scenario, the species underwent an incredible change over the years. And what came out the other end was quite different from their former selves, and a whole lot meaner too. 

We don't fully know when the first horror story came forth, but it is certainly a potent one. The island at some point fell out of favor, and gained fewer visitors with each year. Advances in ships and new trade routes made it obsolete. But eventually, someone pulled out a dusty map and decided to stop by to stock up on pork and goat. When they came to shore, they were expecting a feast of livestock to be waiting for them, but the animals were not easily found. So they got their hunting equipment and dived into the wilds, figuring it would just be a simple, lazy hunt for food. Those that came scrambling back to the ships told a different tale, as you could see from their grievous wounds and missing digits. Folks waiting at the boats didn't even need to hear their words to believe them, as a flock of three foot tall, razor-billed birds came bursting from the foliage. Their beaks and feathers were bloodied, proving the fate of those who didn't return. Everyone ran to the boats, hoping to row out to open water and safety. Most made it, but a few fell to the birds before they could escape, and their crew mates watched in horror as the strange birds surrounded them and tore them to shreds. The story of this encounter spread far and wide, and soon the world learned what became of the Pirado. 

What was once a small flightless bird that snacked on geckos was now a three foot tall nightmare that hungered for flesh. Their beaks have grown sharper and more serrated, backed up by a body now heavier and stronger. Their heads have lost their feathers due to their fondness of larger prey and sticking their heads inside the corpses. While their physical changes are certainly scary looking, the real terror comes from their behavior. Pirado aren't afraid of anything, as they have learned to treat everything as either food or an enemy that must be challenged. Anything they meet is faced with beak and claw, and very rarely is the Pirado alone. They learned safety in numbers, or more so that large prey cannot handle so many attackers at once. Their terrestrial flocks move like a swarm, following the sound and sight of prey, so they can attack from all angles.

When food is tracked down, they run in with their beaks and start slashing away, aiming at the legs to bring them down. Tearing skin and muscle weakens and drops their victim, and then they immediately start eating as the prey still struggles with their final moments. Folks equate them to avian army ants, a razor storm that shreds anything it encounters. With their weaponry and numbers, there are very few things that withstand their assault. Humans have wound up being devoured by these birds, and even dryads have been shredded! They are so aggressive and intent on bringing down all targets, that they will totally attack a moving plant person and mortally wound them before realizing it isn't something they want to eat! So even I have to be incredibly careful around these birds! And believe me, I was! After that Flab Rat incident, I am very much aware of my surroundings and have learned how to avoid these encounters entirely! Thankfully, I am good at climbing trees, and the Pirado is not! 

"Well, it is a good thing those birds are found on only one island!" you are probably saying, hoping you are spared from meeting any of these bloodthirsty birds. Unfortunately, not only has their bodies and behavior changed, but so has their range. The nearby islands surrounding their homeland have become new colonies for them. How they got there, we aren't fully sure. The current theory is that violent storms blew some birds and debris out into the ocean, and they survived long enough to make landfall. With their new size and healthy appetite, it is possible they now have the reserves possible to be adrift at sea for days without food. And it isn't just nearby islands, as they have also spread to various others throughout the ocean. These ones can be fully blamed on people introducing them to these new locales, as there is no way they could reach these islands without a ship. When news of their vicious nature spread, there were plenty of curious people who came to take a look. Quite a few were eaten, but some had the "genius" idea of taking these carnivorous birds with them. Some took Pirado into captivity for entertainment, be it for showing off or putting into a collection. Some thought them a possible food source, with their large size and fast reproduction. Others had the bizarre idea that they could be used for pest control, as they gobbled up rats. Whatever the idiotic reason, populations of these birds have been accidentally or intentionally planted on other islands. With their lifestyle, they absolutely decimate local populations. It is an utter disaster. The one thing we can be thankful for is that they require an ecosystem with little to no large predators in order for them to take over. So they cannot infest larger islands or mainlands, as the even bigger predators quickly take them out. Sadly, this does not protect the more fragile isolated systems that are ravaged by their presence.  

While I would like to believe that the Pirado is seen by the public at large as a symbol of why we must be careful with isolated environments and delicate ecosystems, I know it to not be the case. I am not that naive. Instead, it is infamous for its vicious attitude, insatiable appetite for meat and the horror stories that are born from their attacks. Any adventure story on the high seas is bound to have a chapter where the heroes make it to shore in hopes of supplies or shelter, only to find an island full of ravenous Pirado. Criminal groups and gangs like their imagery and reputation, often weaving them in to their personal heraldry or seals. Underground fighting rings unleash these birds against other animals and predators, so they can bet on who comes out on top. The bloodbath that follows is sure to get the crowd cheering. Some collectors who value "extreme" specimens try to keep Pirado to show off to their fellows, as such a dangerous bird is sure to impress. However, everyone who tries to handle them should know that they are extremely hostile and are ready to bury their beak into flesh at any given opportunity. It honestly baffles me that anyone would want to own a Pirado. They are vicious and have the potential to be extremely invasive. Thankfully, some regions have banned folks from owning these birds, though that of course is not foolproof. The one saving grace is that these birds are so violent and bloodthirsty, that folk are quick to realize they aren't worth the blood, sweat, blood, tears and blood. As I heard someone say, if you want to know if someone owns a Pirado, see how many fingers they have. You can count the length of time they've had this bird by the number of missing digits.

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

----------------------------------------------------------

"Pirado"

Here is something a bit meatier! The dodos get revenge!

#dodo #bird #monster #creature #art #drawing

[the-operated]

Errybody in Marble Hornets out here dry-swallowing pills like excuse me HOW

I can barely swallow my meds with WATER.

#Screwy visits #Screaming #Marble Hornets

[hisfavoritewolf]

*Appears out of the void*

Fenris Brainrot Returns

#Screwy Visits #Also I have a new keyboard that actually functions

[poppyfieldrot]

Blease send questions for Lawrence I want to doodle shitty responses

#Screwy Visits #BTD rp

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

Where do the ninja get their ninja suits from? Like Wu just pops out randomly doing book 2 with a parcel and be like "hey, here's ur suits!", but like who designed the, who manafactured them? Are they from the Order of the Ourobourus gang?

The Training gi, "GX gi", and "Zen GX" were designed and gifted by Mystake. This is why Lloyd's outfit is a little bigger than it should be, because she expected him to be larger for his age (a plot point to be deliberated during S2), plus why he even had a suit to begin with. This also includes Jesse's suit.

Elemental Robes are obtained via ~magic~ during The Temple of Life visit in S2 (which both Nya and Jesse are not present for)

The "Tech Armor" suits are designed by Cyrus Borg and given to all ninja from the start of S3, and maintained for the season.

The Tournament Robes are designed/given by Master Chen at the start of the Tournament to all current EMs, save for Nya and Zane.

The "Jungle Pursuit Robes" are also given by Chen to the remaining participants pre-Spellbound. Those who were in the noodle factory at the time or were part of Nya's squad receive these outfits from Skylor later in the season.

The "Deepsoul Armor" is again provided by Mystake, though its ability to "fend off ghosts" is not gained until somewhat later in the season. Finding/earning that protection is a plot point.

"Destiny's Legacy" Armor is also designed by Mystake, reflective of the Ninja mastering Airjitzu (save for Nya, who lacks the Airjitzu symbol on the back at first + Jesse/Skylor, who get a similar design but without the Guardian/Spinjitzu/Airjitzu aspects).

"Legacy Honor" Robes are going to be designed by Mystake specifically for Day of the Departed, as a special suit the team wears for the holiday.

Idk what I'mma do for S7 just yet but ideally the suits may come from Cyrus Borg again

The suits worn in S8 and get beaten to shreds in S9 are gifted to the group by the Order of the Ouroboros.

During the NRG Arc the "default" suits are going to be the Core Outfits, with the "new suits" just showing up as they do in the Wildbrain seasons normally...mostly.

Screwy stuff happens in the Finale Arc and it's way too far in the future to truly pinpoint how this comes together just yet ahahaha

#you know you're in deep your ua when you're discussing the clothing choices snksnksnk #ninjago #the lego ninjago movie #legacyverse #info tag #legacy spoilers

[iamcole]

Can i have Varric and The Iron Bull for the character bingo?

Varric

Bull

#Curiosities Sated #Screwy Visits #Two of my faves