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contemplatingoutlander · 1 year

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Contemplations on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, January 16, 2023

The coming Republican nightmare | Cartoon by Ann Telnaes

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream.

Sadly, what is currently happening the in U.S. isn't it.

Given the anti-CRT movement in red states, the rampant banning of books by Black and Brown authors across the U.S., the vitriol on the right regarding the BLM movement, the unrestrained right-wing zeal of the conservative justices on the Supreme Court who have been slowly dismantling the Voting Rights Act and who are now poised to ban affirmative action programs at universities, and the acceptance of blatant racist remarks by many of today's GOP politicians (most notably their leader Trump), Martin Luther King would probably think that what is currently happening in the U.S. is indeed a nightmare.

Finally, MLK would be livid if he knew that the GQP anti-CRT, covert white nationalist movement has been repeatedly misusing his "dream" quote:

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” --Martin Luther King Jr.

According to Melinda Guerra this quote has been:

Used: to defend the incredibly patronizing and trivializing thought that claiming to be colorblind is something laudable, rather than a way of discounting the fact that people of color have the privilege of being because we have to deal with the fact that our non-whiteness dictates parts of our experiences in ways those who talk about being will never understand. Also used to defend the idea of America being post-race, which would be laughable if its very falseness lead to so many awful things. Also used to suggest King would be against affirmative action, as if he hadn't been part of a group of leaders proposing an affirmative-action-like employment program (See #5 below).

Guerra goes on to suggest that we

Remind people: 1. This speech actually consists of more than the 2-3 sentences that get quoted. (Seriously, remind them of that. I'm almost convinced people don't know that.) 2. It is foolish and trivializing to claim you don't see color or suggest America is post-race, and flat-out wrong to suggest King wouldn't support affirmative action programs. 3. The march at which he delivered this speech was the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. As a result of that march, meetings with administration, and a ton of work done by other leaders in the Civil Rights Movement of the 60s, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Voting Rights act of 1965 were passed, with provisions reflecting the demands of that march. But, contrary to popular opinion, that didn't lead King to suggest we’d “arrived” and the civil rights movement should pack up and go home [...] 4. King’s speaking and activism stretched from before this speech to after it. This speech–and even the passage of important (but baby step) laws like the aforementioned Civil Rights Act and Voting Act–was not some final “end” to all he’d said. It was but one speech (and the lines people love to claim were but a few lines) in a long legacy of things he said, and his lifetime should not be reduced to a few nonthreatening lines white people like to remember. 5. King and others actually proposed something that sounds an awful lot like the affirmative action programs people use this quote to suggest he was opposed to. He supported a “massive program of economic aid, financed by the Federal Government, to improve the lot of the nation’s 20,000,000 Negroes.” Answering an interviewer’s question about whether it was fair to request a “multibillion-dollar program of preferential treatment for the Negro, or for any other minority group,” King responded as follows:

“I do indeed. Can any fair-minded citizen deny that the Negro has been deprived? Few people reflect that for two centuries the Negro was enslaved, and robbed of any wages—potential accrued wealth which would have been the legacy of his descendants. All of America’s wealth today could not adequately compensate its Negroes for his centuries of exploitation and humiliation. It is an economic fact that a program such as I propose would certainly cost far less than any computation of two centuries of unpaid wages plus accumulated interest. In any case, I do not intend that this program of economic aid should apply only to the Negro; it should benefit the disadvantaged of all races.”*

I’m sure you’ll see plenty of your own memes misquoting King this year. If you have the emotional energy (and I do understand if you don’t), consider using some of the above responses (or researching your own) and responding, instead of just scrolling past them.

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day!

_____________ * http://playboysfw.kinja.com/martin-luther-king-jr-part-2-of-a-candid-conversation-1502358645

#martin luther king jr day #mlk day #dream or nightmare #us racism #us politics #anti-crt movement #gop #republican house #melinda guerra #ann telnaes #the washington post #fourth & sycamore

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perenlop · 1 year

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should probably wait til i actually start and finish this last special, but for a spinoff called “mega evolution specials” there sure isnt a whole lot of mega evolution

#i feel like there havent been a ton of them featured in these. even the ones from xy #we only get them in sub-only ads for the specials i think #also scizor was apparently in that first special but maybe the recording was off bc it was only a silhouette in the opening #and the third one had the primal reversions but no new megas at all #just charizard and metagross again #maybe thatll change w the fourth but considering what its about i kinda doubt it #also. man i watched em recently and theoretically HUGE things have happened #but i feel like i barely remember the other specials #i still barely know why i should care abt alain and mairin #alain has beef w sycamore but we still dont have that much focus or why we should care #so its confusing #echoed voice #pokeani lb

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hier--soir · 6 months

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sun don't set

ellie williams x f!reader

rating: sfw, not explicit summary: life in the little house is calm - quiet. days pass in a blur of fruit and sunshine and companionship. slow mornings, afternoons, and evenings. ellie is slowly rediscovering her love for music, and on that journey, she writes a song about you. warnings/tags: late twenties ellie, set years after the events of tlou2, no spoilers or discussions of plot points in tlou2 - except perhaps the description of an old injury but the way it happened isn't described, established wlw relationship, food and eating, brief description of skinning animals for food, soft soft soft ellie. word count: 1.3k masterlist a/n: this short little thing poured out of me after a nice sunny day and it's maybe one of the softest, sweetest things i've ever written. a slice of life type thing based on the happy ending i hope ellie got x [ALSO the song ellie sings is ronnie's song by odie leigh]

The little house lives in the basin of a valley, circled by sycamore boughs and juniper bushes.

A shallow stream trickles close by.

In the mornings, you eat berries drizzled in honey, sipping warm tea while watching the water. The air is still and quiet, filled only with the sounds of the dribbling brook and teeth sinking into ripe fruit. The first rays of sun arrive and they are safe and warm against your skin, and time moves slowly. Gently.

You sit on the patio in chairs that she built. Ones that creak and whimper as your weight settles upon them; rickety wood and worn old nails. On the armrest, hers or yours, fingers catch and hold. Thumbs and indexes and pinkies looped together.

In the afternoons, she peels an orange. Spindly fingers tear thick skin, pulling apart perfect segments of flesh – one for you, one for her, one for you, one for her. Together you bite and chew and swallow, jaws and mouths and teeth working in sync. In the silence, you relish the feeling of tasting this together. That burst of juice across your tongues. Wisps of pulp that catch in the cracks of your incisors.

When it’s warm you splay out on the grass, stretching and purring like two cats in the sun. She’s a calico, splotches of white and brown and beige, and you’re a tabby, mottled streaks of burnt orange – wiling away what’s left of your nine lives together.

In the evenings, she returns from her walk. Some days empty handed, others with rabbit or duck or deer trailing behind her. On those days you sit with your knees pressed together, sharp knives peeling back hair and skin and feathers. You eat as the air turns cooler and the sun sets over the hill, an almost endless—always wondrous—burst of oranges and pinks that taint the sky before it turns to black.

Often, you turn in first. Tuck yourself away inside the little house, swathed in blankets; keeping her side of the bed warm. Alone, she reaches for the guitar. Takes it outside and closes the door behind her, so that those soft melodies won’t carry to your ears. With heavy eyelids, your ears pique and strain, eager to listen. But she must stray further than the patio, for you never hear a thing.

Time passes and she joins you soon enough. Her long limbs coil around yours beneath the covers; cold toes press into the skin of your calves. Her hand on your back, those fingers tracing a tickling portrait. The tip of your nose rests in the base of her neck and you breathe in the scent of pine and rosemary and honey on her skin. In the darkness, sinking into her warmth, you feel tenderness thicken the lining of your throat. And together you sleep; at peace knowing that another morning awaits you.

Ellie found the guitar in your fourth year together. Deep brown, layered in dust, the sound hole and fretboard decorated with cobwebs. She didn’t say a word as she slung it over her back and carried it the entire way to the little house. Didn’t offer any explanation when she stashed it away in an empty room. And when you caught her one night, long after sunset, wiping away the dust and tightening the strings, you didn’t ask any questions. Didn’t ask if she was thinking about him – you already knew the answer.

“It’s hard,” she told you one morning, lips and chin shining with berry juice. “Learning how to play again. How to play… like this.”

Your fingers ghost over the palm of her left hand, splayed on the armrest of her chair. Tracing lines and scars on pale skin until you reach the shortened stumps of her ring and pinkie finger.

“Sometimes the hardest things,” you pick up her hand and lay a soft kiss to each finger, lingering a little longer on those two. “Are the things most worth doing.”

She hums a short response, eyes trained on where your lips touch her skin. Then her hand cups your jaw and brings your face to meet hers, and she smears the taste of blueberries into your mouth.

It’s not until a morning in your fifth year together that you hear it for the first time.

She wanders in from the chicken coop, white and brown eggs cradled in the well of her palms. The wind tousles that short auburn hair, loosening it from behind her ears, and carries her voice through the door to you.

“She’s my… I’m… she’s a coffee cup, I’m tea.”

Your fingers still against the page of your book, and you glance up as she walks through the door, still murmuring under her breath.

“What’s that?” you smile.

“Eggs?” She holds them up, eyebrows pinched defensively—secretively.

“Ellie,” you laugh. Dog ear the page of your book and tuck it away on the kitchen counter. She nestles the eggs carefully into a bowl and sidles up beside you, hooking an ankle neatly around yours.

“It’s nothing,” her nose brushes against the apple of your cheek, lips chapped and dry from the morning air as they lay a kiss to your jaw. “How do you want your eggs? I’ll make a fire.”

Months pass after that, and you hear it as she bathes. Hear it as she hangs your socks on the clothesline.

“She’s the salt,” she sings faintly. “And I’m the sea.”

Hear it as she builds her arrows, hunched over the table, tired fingers fiddling. Hear it grumbled through a mouthful of mint as she brushes her teeth.

“She’s a dog, and I’m her fleas.”

One day in Summer you walk together, following that little stream all the way to the lake. You hear it then too. Softly, under her breath, your hand held loosely in hers as the sun turns her shoulders pink.

“If she’s creamer, then I’m jooooe,” the voice you love purrs, her thin lips pursing and parting as she drags out the vowel. “Sun don’t set, wherever we go.”

And then one night, as the two of you sit admiring the sky and all of its pinks and blues and yellows and oranges, you abandon your chair for hers. Slink two steps across the patio and into her lap, welcoming the way her arms drape around your shoulders. She kisses the bone at the top of your spine, the sloping side of your neck, and watches the sky from over your shoulder.

And then she sings quietly, her voice a delicate and hoarse thing against the back of your head.

“She’s a pistol.” A breath in and a breath out. “I’m a bow.”

“Is that from your song?” you ask, voice a hushed whisper. Scared to break the softness of the moment; the sunset trance that rests in a warm shroud over the patio.

“Hmm?” she murmurs. You feel her lips trail the shell of your ear, the edge of your jaw. You shiver and go lax in her lap.

“Will you sing me your song?” you say louder, eyes focused on the waning horizon.

“My song?” Ellie laughs. One of her hands slips from your shoulder to play with the hairs at the nape of your neck. Twisting a strand around her finger and tugging gently. “It’s your song, babe.”

“Well, I’d like to hear it,” you murmur, and you can hear the smile in your own voice. “Properly, I mean.” Feel the heat that rises in your neck at the mere thought of it. Your song.

“What about…” she says, fingers thrumming a beat against your stomach now. “What if I sing it for you in the morning? I think it’ll be warm. Sunny. We can see if those strawberries you planted are ready to eat.”

You consider it for a moment—her lips stained pink; eyes bright as she croons your song in the morning sunshine.

“With the guitar too?”

A pause.

“With the guitar,” she agrees.

You nod once and turn to kiss her. Smile into her mouth.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Strawberries and my song in the morning.”

thank you for reading! x

#my writing #fic: sun don't set #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff

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extinctionstories · 11 months

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There are certain traits that come to mind when a person hears the word “parrot”. Bright plumage. A hooked beak. A brazen voice. And, of course, their habitat: through history, the image of the parrot has functioned as a kind of visual shorthand for the idea of the exotic and tropical.

The association makes sense: of the roughly 400 species of parrots known to have existed in modern times, only four have been found outside of tropical climes. Three of these reside in mountainous pockets of otherwise typical parrot-country, like the Kea of New Zealand. Once, though, there was a parrot that dwelt amongst the familiar elms and sycamores of eastern North America.

Despite its name, the Carolina Parakeet’s natural range stretched from Florida to Colorado, with northern borders extending up to Virginia and Wisconsin; birds were even known to have been sighted as far afield as New York and Canada. Some of the most striking accounts of parakeet flocks describe them in winter, their bright feathers glowing against bare tree branches and snow.

A winter parrot; a snow parrot—it’s practically a contradiction in terms. Maybe that’s what makes it so wonderful.

If only wonder, and uniqueness, were enough to protect and preserve an animal, instead of a mere whetstone to its loss. I think the world would be a brighter place, if parakeets still flew in the snow.

This is the fourth piece in my series about the extinct Carolina Parakeet. The title of the painting is ‘The Warmth of a Living Breath’, and it is gouache on 18x24 inch watercolor paper.

#carolina parakeet #extinction #extinct birds #recently extinct #extinct animals #things really start kickin’ off from this point on #extinction stories

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drtanner · 2 months

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SOMEDAY I'LL REMEMBER TO DO THIS ON THE RIGHT DAY!! IT'S

✨"DOES THIS CHARACTER KNOW WHAT SEX IS?" THURSDAY FRIDAY✨

THIS WEEK: PROFESSOR SYCAMORE (POKéMON)

#DOES THIS CHARACTER KNOW WHAT SEX IS #pokemon #pokemon XY #professor sycamore

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mayakern · 1 year

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Hope it’s not a bother!! I love hearing you talk about your skirt creations and behind the scenes! What are your top 10 most popular skirts? Any one of them surprise you with its popularity? What are some concept ideas that you have that you scraped because it seems too self indulgent and won’t do well with the crowd? How much freedom do you give your collaborators, or do you still contribute to the ideas (I remember you said you went to Rio with the rat idea)

it’s not a bother at all! however this is a lot of questions so i’ll just be answering the first one, since that answer alone is already plenty long.

it’s a little difficult to aggregate the most popular designs, since a lot of them have multiple listings (either from size range changes, changes to the design, or having a miniskirt version) but i’ll do my best

the top design, by a very wide margin, is the bee skirt! i don’t think this will surprise anyone hahaha. i also don’t think the whale skirt being second place will surprise anyone either.

third and fourth are @sergle’s sunflowers and my desert sunset. the desert sunset skirt surprises me only because of how relatively new it is (same with the sunflowers skirt). i think it’s because they were both available for preorders so people were able to order as many as they wanted without worrying about us running out of stock.

fifth and sixth are cherry tree and deadly florals

seventh is @sergle’s poppies and eighth is sycamore, which is surprising only that it is a color way of the cherry tree skirt. usually when i make different color ways of designs, one of them vastly outsells the others, but considering how much less time the sycamore skirt has been available for, the sales aren’t that different.

ninth and tenth are star gayzing and ocean, which is insane considering we’ve only offered the ocean skirt once. i think it could easily hit top five after a couple more reprints

#ask #store #faq #if you come back with the other questions i’d be happy to answer later

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maxineswritingcenter · 1 year

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When the Blood Moon Wanes - Alcide Herveaux x fem!reader

On the fourth day of Ficmas, my writer gave to me~

Your date with Alcide gets interrupted, but he gets surprised when you come along for the ride.

---

When (Y/N) finally mustered up the courage to ask out the very tall and very handsome Alcide Herveaux, she had expected exciting. But who knew exciting included werewolves as well as vampires.

But hey, the hottest guy in town had blushed when she stuttered out a hello.

Sitting at the bar of Merlotte’s, nursing a shirley temple, she took glances towards a booth where Sookie sat and talked with Alcide Herveaux. She had only met him a few times. Mostly her word-vomiting stupid bullshit because she couldn’t talk to men worth a damn.

Her nickname in high school had been “the mouth” and not because of certain “extracurricular activities”. Just because she was so awkward.

“Bitch, I know you’re not drinking a fuckin shirley temple.” Lafayette took the glass from her hand, took the toothpick that skewered a maraschino cherry and ate the fruit.

“I was really looking forward to that cherry.” She mumbled with a pout.

He slammed the glass down, raising a well manicured eyebrow at her, “What’s with the pity party? Don’t tell me went out with another fang banger.”

“Hey.” She said in a hushed voice, “I told you my Halloween costume was convincing.” She sighed, going back to her longing, “Not that it matters, no one in this town gives a damn about any girl but Sookie Stackhouse.”

“You best be careful, you know she can read thoughts.” He started washing her glass.

She scoffed, “Oh, I know. I got a big lecture about how it’s not her fault that her life is always in danger, blah blah blah.” She opened and closed her hand like a puppet, then she dropped her hand on the bar top. “Besides, she’s already got him wrapped around her fingers.”

Lafayette spied in the direction she was looking, “You talkin’ about Alcide? Honey, men like that don’t go after girls like us.” He put a hand on his hip, “Damn shame though, what I would give to climb that sycamore.” He hummed like he had tasted something delectable.

“Ya know what? Men like that don’t go after girls like us, so maybe we should go after them.” She held her hand out, “Shot of whiskey. Put it on my tab.”

While he pour, he asked: “You mean the tab that has three shirley temples and a side a’fries on it?” She ignored his jab and drank the shot he filled her empty hand with almost immediately. Filled with liquid courage, (Y/N) got up from the bar and made her way towards the booths.

As she walked by, she could see Terry and Arlene staring at her from the kitchen window.

“Where’s she going?” The cook asked, genuine confusion on his face.

“She’s goin’ where no lady has gone before, god bless.” The red head took her plates and made her way to her table. Terry just stuck his head back in the kitchen.

(Y/N) made it to the table just as Sookie was leaving, Alcide looking like a lost puppy.

“Hey Alcide.” She said with a smile, her heart almost jumping out of her throat as she watched him perk up at her arrival.

“Oh, uh, hey, (Y/N).” He said, a pink tinge to his cheeks, “What can I do for ya?”

“Great question, I was just-” It was then that she realized that she had no fucking plan.

“Um.” She felt her face heat up, “Uh, I was wondering if... You would like... To have dinner... At... My house?”

“R...Right now?” His eyes widened, “I just ate...”

“Oh...” Her blush was now that of embarrassment, she started to get up from the table, “Uh, then I will just let you get back to-”

“Wait!” He called, reaching out and took her hand before she got too far.

“Holy fuck, he’s touching me.” Her brain was screaming at her.

“Uh.” He released her hand quickly, “I would like to have dinner with you though.”

“Really?!” She yelled without realizing, “Uh, um, yeah, that sounds good. How’s Saturday?”

“Saturday’s perfect.” He smiled.

Now it was Saturday and she was cooking her father’s no-fail steak house meal. The dry rub was so secret that he refused to give her the ingredients, he just dropped off a ziplock bag of spice mix off on her door stop. Better than nothing, she supposed. Steak, potatoes, mixed greens. It was halfway through dinner when she realized she hadn’t asked if he was allergic to anything. Oh god, what if she killed him? Her first date with this man and she kills him. Lafayette would never let her live it down. He would visit her in prison just to smirk and laugh at her.

The doorbell brought her out of the plan she was making taking him to the hospital if he, indeed, had an allergic reaction.

“That’s him...” She inhaled deeply, smoothing out her dress and walking to the door, opening it. Just the sight of the man in the door, made her blush. Did she die and go to heaven between the kitchen and the door?

Alcide wore a navy blue henley shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his usual jeans, and boots. His hair hung in it’s usual perfect way, falling into his eyes at times. He had a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.

He looked up with his books with a casual smile, “Evenin’.”

“Hi.” She said softly, “Come on in.”

He stepped inside, “Uh, these are for you.” Handing her the bouquet, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“T-thank you.” She grinned, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply.

It was a nice moment. But a certain someone popped in.

More knocking at her door led her to open her eyes and grumble, opening the door. On her porch, they found Sookie, Bill, and a very tall vampire who stared very intently.

“Can I help you?” (Y/N) asked, a little more than slightly annoyed.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m interruptin’ y’alls’ date, but we really need his help.” Sookie said. Alcide came to her side, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“A blood cult is planning to sacrifice werewolves to a moon god. We need someone who can infiltrate.” Bill drawled. While they spoke, she had slipped away from Alcide, causing him to frown slightly.

“And why the hell can’t you have Sam do it?”

“Because Sam Merlotte doesn’t owe me a favor.” The tall blond vampire, tilted his head to the side. Pale eyes staring the werewolf down. Alcide knew he couldn’t argue. He sighed in frustration and walked out of the house, before turning back to look at his date.

“(Y/N), I am so sorry, I completely understand if you never wanna see me aga-” He was cut off by (Y/N) returning, cocking a shotgun.

“So who’s car we takin’?” She smirked.

“Now, Miss (Y/L/N), it is far too dangerous-” Bill began.

“Ah!” She cut him off, making his face scrunch up like an offended toddler, “You people are cutting into our date. So we’re taking the date on the road. My dad taught me how to hogtie a pig in thirty seconds, and they’re more likely to kill you than some wannabe cultists. Let’s move out.” The group watched as she closed the door behind her and walked off into the night.

“She’s quite interesting.” Eric raised his eyebrows, slightly impressed by the human’s tanacity.

“She’s spoken for.” Alcide grinned, following close behind.

----

Is it slightly a caricature of their characters on the show? A little, but I was in a silly, goofy mood.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Please message me, comment below, or click the link in my pinned to be added to the taglist :)

General Tag:

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

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@vicmc624

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#alcide herveaux #alcide herveaux x reader #alcide herveaux fic #trueblood fic

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fantasy-drawings-ra · 9 months

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Here are some miscellaneous drawings I’ve made months ago and forgot to post here.

Sketches Descriptions in order:

Desmond Sycamore sitting contemplatively with his right hand under the side of his chin. Whilst looking to his left. He is also in a different outfit because I like practicing new outfits with him seeing as I draw him the most.

Second is Qifrey standing in a 3/4 angle and the drawing is a little passed his knees. He has his left hand over his heart and his right outstretched to the side he is looking in is flowy robe and hat.

Third is one page of two of a Brewster comic I’m working on in digital right now, though panel 2 and 3 are swapped. I got the idea after logging in when I haven’t got to play in a while and thought of this comic based on his response.

Fourth is my attempt at Link in his new Tears of the Kingdom design. With his hair flowing his his face is in a side profile looking over his shoulder to the right with his left hand (our right is outstretched slightly to catch the tear gem and his right arm at his side. (Side note: I drew this before playing the game.)

Fifth is Elaine from The Blind Prince webtoon (which is so good and gets me excited every Tuesday evening to go read) she is looking to the left side profile shot clasping her hands forward. Looking surprised yet hopeful. (This probably is my favourite of the sketches because I think it was the one that turn out the best.)

Sixth slide is Queen Sonia from Tears of the Kingdom looking to the right with a smiling expression with her hands outstretch forward to match the Rauru drawing in the third slide. (Insert a ‘I just think they’re neat!’ Meme here)

Seventh slide is Rauru from Tears of the Kingdom looking to the left in a side profile to Sonia with a smile on his face and hands also outstretched. Both Sonia and Rauru’s I feel could be better but I drew them at night when I felt the drive to draw even though I had little energy to apply it to. Hopefully if I do get to draw them in digital it will hopefully be better.

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ascelhire · 1 year

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[ID: Animated walking sprites of Des from the Professor Layton prequel trilogy, including various designs of both Desmond Sycamore and Descole. There are a total of four Des designs; the first of Desmond Sycamore in his usual glasses and suit attire, the second of Descole with his cape, the third of Desmond without his glasses and wearing his cape, and the fourth of Descole without his cape showing his suit. All sprites are bobbing up and down to simulate a walking motion. /End ID]

funny lil des sprites, as a treat :]

#gif //#professor layton #descole #desmond sycamore #jean descole #pl #ascel art #(also congrats des on winning the poll WOOOO !!!! *confetti*)#(WARGH also just noticed this got compressed badly on mobile but luckily still looks fine on desktop *pensive*)#(ah well it is what it is dshjsdjks)

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stele3 · 7 months

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#destiel daily digest

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ether-gearhead · 7 months

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I guess I'll do a little predicting for protag Lodge pairs since I got nothing better to do.

Red and Machamp/Arcanine: I dunno how his usual silence would translate to the Lodge, but either way, I wanted him to get one of his Let's Go 'mons. Venusaur probably isn't happening, considering Lodge Sycamore already got Bulbasaur. I got Lapras going to Misty, I'm reluctant to predict Blastoise on the off-chance they add Green, and I'd be shocked if they remember he had an Espeon long ago.

Leaf and Clefable: N/A

Ethan and Tauros: Protags seem to be getting their NPC versions, and Lyra mentions owning a Tauros in HGSS, so...

Kris and Bayleef/Meganium: Despite everything, she's not beating the Kris = Lyra allegations, although it would complete the triangle between her, Ethan, and Silver...

Lyra and Marill: She's long since been confirmed to have a Marill, how is this not already a thing?!?

Brendan and Combusken: Honestly, Lodge Brendan has a bunch of options. Breloom, Slugma, Swellow, Claydol... But I still say Combusken, just so we can have the whole Torchic line on one team. That, and why should May be the only one with two starters?

May and Wailmer: N/A

Lucas and Infernape: AKA, the final nail in Flint's coffin. WHY was Flint F2P?! People would've pulled his banner for Infernape by itself! Why ya do Ronald McDonald dirty like that?!?

Dawn and Plant Cloak Wormadam: N/A

Hilbert and Braviary: I figure since NPC Hilbert would just be picking from the Subway partner pool anyway, might as well keep it simple and give him his own Braviary.

Hilda and Haxorus: The Villa kind of simplifies the process here.

Nate and Escavalier: Since Rosa kind of screwed him over, I figure he can just inherit one of Blake's Pokemon from Adventures.

Rosa and Dewott: N/A

Calem and Fennekin: N/A

Serena and Fletchling: N/A

Elio and Midday Lycanroc: I figure, better to lean into the sun and moon motif for him and Selene and give them the Midday and Midnight Lycanroc forms.

Selene and Midnight Lycanroc: See Elio.

Chase and Charmander: I’m on the fence with this one, because Mega Charizard Y is still on the table, and that has a very good chance of going to Chase.

Elaine and Squirtle: Bulbasaur’s off the table, so she probably gets one of the other two Kanto starters, and they rarely pair the Charmander line with one of the girls.

Victor and Drizzile: I want to give him Scorbunny, but I don't see Hop not getting that. So in the inverse of Lodge Gloria, Drizzile it is.

Gloria and Thwackey: N/A:

Rei and Staraptor/Empoleon: Either one probably works.

Akari and Pikachu: Come on, DeNA's not above a FOURTH playable Pikachu!

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minnlahzz · 1 month

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OC !!

oc by @/d3adbr3inc3lls

this art was so sick and insane my jaw dropped, the creativity too! mwa. i didn't know his name, but he looks gorge. hope you liked it!

definitely acts like professor sycamore when people tell him the explorers are shit people.

"what, nahh. i know they wouldn't do that!" OH YES THEY WOULD, HUN.

very strong (obviously, this is an EX—Champion), but if a kid or a young trainer ever asked him for a battle he would play easy on them.

speaking of kids, if he ever is near one. he'd let them view his pokemon, not to flex, but to help them learn more about their behaviors and how they look close up!

their pokemon love being included in the research, no matter what. they're just happy to be there! it's cute.

out of all the explorers people, they're closest to onyx for some reason. his pokemon likes onyx too! they see him as a friend, especially silvally!

grooms his pokemon well, zorua is probably so softttt! and they are probably well-mannered.

had made experiments (random gadgets for researching) before that blew up, it's normal though! second times the charm, or third... fourth?

probably thinks the explorers are like people who venture off and explore the pokemon world, not an evil organism that might END the world.

Liko wants them to realize what the explorers have done, but how long will it take?

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handeaux · 10 months

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A ‘Wireless Wizard’ Showed Cincinnati Driverless Cars; He Really Wanted A Death Ray

It was Monday, 23 January 1928 on Court Street in Cincinnati. Three Willis automobiles rumbled around the Courthouse Square, flashing their lights, honking their horns, starting and stopping, shutting off and restarting their engines, turning this way and that. Not one of the three cars had a human in the driver’s seat. All were controlled by a wooden crate mounted on the running board, receiving radio signals from a “Wireless Wizard” manipulating a small radio transmitter. According to the Cincinnati Post:

“The wizard would fling a radio spark from his toylike transmitter. There would be a responsive click in the wireless apparatus on the auto. The wheels would move in any direction.”

The Wireless Wizard was a young man named Maurice J. Francill from Toledo, Ohio. Francill arrived in Cincinnati under the auspices of the Post to demonstrate the power of radio to transform modern life. Francill spent a week in town, not only driving automobiles in circles, but sending a conductorless streetcar eight blocks up Sycamore Street. Each evening, he amazed crowds at the local Wurlitzer shop on Fourth Street:

“In addition to playing all manner of automatic music instruments by remote control, he will make a radio broadcast phonograph record and play it back to his audience in the flash of a moment. He also will offer light and sound wave experiments on the music store program.”

While wowing the crowds by demonstrating his radio-control box, Francill opined about the future of American life, once radio had saturated the nation’s infrastructure.

“The wizard, Francill, says that someday every woman will carry a wireless dual-phone in her handbag – that she not only can talk over it with the maid at home, but that she can see through it exactly what is taking place there.”

Francill predicted that every household appliance will one day be operated by radio, with vacuum sweepers operated at the touch of a button and basement laundry machines controlled from the lady’s boudoir. (Francill was less than forthcoming about how the dirty clothes would find their way to the laundry and how the clean clothes would return to the closet, but who is quibbling?)

In Cincinnati, Francill was a decided sensation, Over the course of his six-day visit to the Queen City, he presented 18 driverless automobile exhibitions, a sold-out demonstration of radio-controlled appliances at Keith’s Theater and inspirational visits to local high schools.

On top of whatever the Post paid him for this week-long residency, Francill earned some financial icing by endorsing local products. The Veazey-Miller Willis dealership on Gilbert Avenue provided the Willis automobiles for his experiments, with full tanks of Caldwell & Taylor’s “Original Benzol Gas,” lubricated with Pennzoil products and relying on Prest-O-Lite batteries. The Electric Shop contributed appliances for use on stage, and Wurlitzer touted Francill’s approval of the company’s home entertainment consoles.

Who was this “Wireless Wizard” and where did he come from? Although identified as an engineer, none of the newspapers suggested he had actually studied engineering anywhere. Records for anyone named Maurice J. Francill are sparse and sometimes contradictory.

That’s because Maurice J. Francill was the stage name of a man named Francis Cowgill, born in Marion, Ohio around 1896. Cowgill worked for a time in the factories around his hometown. The 1920 census records him as a foreman and inspector at an automobile factory. In 1918 the Marion Star announced that Francis Cowgill was “putting Marion on the map” by designing weaponry for the United States Navy. In particular, the newspaper reported that Cowgill had developed contact mines for the Navy that were “in actual use,” and was now pitching two types of aerial bombs to the U.S. War Department.

After the war, Cowgill launched a career in show business as a one-man vaudeville act juggling and wire-walking. He began adding magic tricks to his repertoire and started tinkering with remote control devices to enliven his show. That’s when he created the “Francill” name by chopping off the end of his first name and the beginning of his surname and splicing them together. Pretty soon the radio component of his act became the centerpiece and he was off on a decade of remote-control exhibitions – milking cows, baking bread, operating a laundry and running entire factories in addition to running driverless autos through their paces.

As World War II loomed, Maurice/Francis went back to his earlier career in creating armaments and created his electronic triumph – a Death Ray. According to the Cincinnati Post [2 March 1940], Francill offered his homicidal device to Ohio Governor John W. Bricker as a quicker, more humane, method of execution than the electric chair, but state law mandated the chair in Ohio. Francill claimed that his Death Ray had killed rats in preliminary tests.

Twenty-two years later, Cowgill was still trying to sell his Death Ray and told the Columbus Dispatch [29 April 1962] that, if he didn’t build one, somebody else would, Cowgill claimed “four or five others in this country” were working on one.

“It’s quite possible that the ray could operate off of a couple of flash-light batteries.”

Cowgill told Dispatch reporter Dan Clancy that the Death Ray he envisioned could do much more than simply kill people. It could cut down the Golden Gate Bridge, for example.

“You could just slice it off at each end and take another cut up the middle for good measure.”

Cowgill told Clancy that his Death Ray worked by disrupting the ability of hemoglobin to carry oxygen. Rats struck by the Death Ray fell paralyzed and then died. Cowgill claimed he never killed any people with his Death Ray, but confessed he’d thought of doing so.

The man born Francis Cowgill died in 1974 and is buried as Maurice J. Francill in Marion Cemetery. He appeared in court to fight a Marion traffic ticket as Francill in 1953, suggesting he had legally changed his name. However, the Ohio Bar Association sued Francis Cowgill in 1970 under his birth name for practicing law – advising inventors about patent regulations – without a license, so maybe he hadn’t.

Adding to the mystery is the outcome of his research on a Death Ray? Do plans exist? Was a prototype constructed? Were any more rats sacrificed? The answers are out there somewhere.

#francis cowgill #maurice j. francill #wireless wizard

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ciaossu-imagines · 10 months

Note

hello! for the mini event, can i request bsd + hogwarts ? the characters are more or less up to you but if you could include sigma, fyodor and ranpo i would appreciate it!

thank you sm for the event, it sounds exciting~ i'll be looking forward to the various pieces

Of course you can, my lovely anon! I’m so glad that you enjoyed the event this time and I hope you’ll enjoy the various posts as they come out, but especially this one! I had a really hard time narrowing down the characters I wanted to talk about for this one, other than being sure that I would include the ones you asked for so in the end, I decided not to pick! So, while they won’t be the most detailed headcanons, you will find below a list of almost all the BSD characters, their Hogwarts Houses, and their wands!

SCHOOL STAFF

HOGWARTS HEADMASTER: Soseki Natsume, formerly of Ravenclaw, wields a wand of acacia and threstral tail hair

CHARMS TEACHER: Santouka Taneda, formerly of Gryffindor, wields a wand of rowan and unicorn tail hair

FLYING TEACHER: Herman Melville, Head of Hufflepuff, wields a wand of maple and unicorn tail hair

HERBOLOGY TEACHER: Ryuurou Hirotsu, formerly of Hufflepuff House, wields a wand of mahogany and dragon heartstring

POTIONS TEACHER: Ouchi Fukuchi, formerly of Slytherin, wields a wand of elderwood and Rougarou hair

DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS TEACHER: Yukichi Fukuzawa, Head of Gryffindor House, wields a wand of laurel and phoenix feather

TRANSFIGURATION TEACHER: Ougai Mori, Head of Slytherin House, wields a wand of hornbeam and thestral tail hair

ALCHEMY TEACHER: Francis Scott Fitzgerald, formerly of Slytherin, wields a wand of willow and coral

DIVINATION TEACHER: Andre Gide, formerly of Slytherin, wields a wand of blackthorn and Rougarou hair

FIRST YEARS

ELISE, sorted into Slytherin House, wields a wand of silver lime and phoenix feather

AYA KODA, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of ashwood and veela hair

SECOND YEARS

KYUUSAKU ‘Q’ YUMENO, sorted into Slytherin House, wields a wand of acacia and dragon heartstring

KENJI MIYAZAWA, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of alder and unicorn tail hair

KYOUKA IZUMI, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of poplar and thestral tail hair

SHIRASE BUICHIROU, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of ebony and dragon heartstring

NAOMI TANIZAKI, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of redwood and veela hair

THIRD YEARS

ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA, sorted into Hufflepuff House, wields a wand of rosewood and phoenix feather

JUNICHIROU TANIZAKI, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of birch and unicorn tail hair

LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of beech and coral

ICHIYOU HIGUCHI, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of cedar and unicorn tail hair

LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of reed and unicorn tail hair

SAIGIKU JOUNO, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of laurel and unicorn tail hair

FOURTH YEARS

RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA, sorted into Slytherin House, wields a wand of ash and dragon heartstring

MARGARET MITCHELL, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of applewood and dragon heartstring

NIKOLAI GOGOL, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of elmwood and veela hair

ADAM FRANKENSTEIN, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of dogwood and unicorn tail hair

JOHN STEINBECK, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of alder and dragon heartstring

FIFTH YEARS

OSAMU DAZAI, sorted into Slytherin House, wields a wand of pine and veela hair

DOPPO KUNIKIDA, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of red oak and unicorn tail hair

CHUUYA NAKAHARA, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of aspen and thestral tail hair

MARK TWAIN, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of sycamore and phoenix feather

IVAN GONCHAROV, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of rosewood and dragon heartstring

TECCHOU SUEHIRO, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of pine and coral

SIGMA, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of English oak and phoenix feather

KIRAKO HARUNO, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of birch and dragon heartstring

KITAI TAYAMA, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of hazel and troll whisker

A, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of hawthorn and Rougarou hair

SAKUNOSUKE ‘ODASAKU’ ODA, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of spruce and unicorn tail hair

MUSHITAROU OGURI, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of walnut and phoenix feather

AKIKO YOSANO, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of hawthorn and veela hair

ANGO SAKUGUCHI, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of silver lime and coral

SIXTH YEARS

RANPO EDOGAWA, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of silver lime and unicorn tail hair

KOUYOU OZAKI, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of willow and veela hair

PAUL VERLAINE, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of yew and dragon heartstring

FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of yew and thestral tail hair

NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of vine and unicorn tail hair

BRAM STOKER, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of fir and thestral tail hair

SEVENTH YEARS

MOTOJIROU KAIJI, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of larch and dragon heartstring

HOWARD PHILLIPS LOVECRAFT, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of elm and troll whisker

EDGAR ALLEN POE, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of walnut and veela hair

ALEXANDER PUSHKIN, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of holly and dragon heartstring that is noticeably longer than usual

TERUKO OOKURA, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of holly and dragon heartstring that is noticeably shorter than usual

RANDO, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of cedar and phoenix feather

#mini-event #au event #hogwarts au #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd headcanons #harry potter

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talonslockau · 5 months

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Fire and Ice - Chapter 31

Chapter 30 || Index || Chapter 32

The days that followed Dewpaw's ceremony were even busier than before. With Patchpelt's retirement, and the gray molly no longer training to be a warrior, there were fewer paws than ever to get everything done around camp. Not that Firepaw could blame either of them; they were both certainly deserving of their new posts.

Even despite the constant pressures of their duties to the Clan, they still had to make time for training. As Firepaw, Graypaw, Pepperpaw and Cinderpaw neared their fourth moon as apprentices, their mentors had decided to hold a series of assessments to ensure that they were progressing satisfactorily as warriors. That morning had been a series of tree-climbing races that Cinderpaw had predictably won; after sunhigh, while the two mollies were on patrol, the rest of the mentors had decided upon testing the remaining three apprentices on their hunting skills.

Graypaw had been sent off to hunt around the Owltree, while Firepaw was given Tallpines to hunt for the Shadowclan elders. He hadn't heard where Ravenpaw had been assigned, taking off as soon as he got his own assignment, but he assumed it was probably the Great Sycamore, as the last most logical hunting area.

He couldn't help but feel his pelt prickle as he stalked down the silent, eerie rows of pines, his paws slipping into the grooves left long ago by the giant Monsters that prowled this forest. This place was unnatural, and most of the prey knew it too. Very few chose to make their home here, aside from birds and the occasional squirrel.

Despite the challenge, he had done well so far. He had caught a few finches, a single sparrow, and a couple of chickadees so far. It was a decent haul, but they were all small birds that were barely a few mouthfuls. If he wanted to impress Tinyfrost and the elders, he would have to do better.

He paused as a rapid tapping sound filled the air. It could only be a woodpecker. He waited a few moments to pinpoint the source of the sound before stalking forward swiftly, eager to reach it before it flew away.

His heart beat quicker as the tapping stilled for several moments. Then it resumed, the tom breathing a sigh of relief as he spotted the red head of the bird blasting away at the side of one of the older trees in the area.

Catching it would not be easy. He couldn't climb the trunk for it, as it would just fly away at his approach. Nor could he catch it from another tree, as the pine branches were too far apart and too small to support him. No, he would have to reach it in a single, well timed leap. But if he did, Tinyfrost would surely be impressed with his skills…

He was patient in his approach, timing his paw steps to the rhythm of the bird's attacks on the bark in front of it. Thankfully, his pelt was in his favor for once, blending in well with the dry pine needles below him. He froze whenever the bird stopped, not even daring to look at it until it started again.

His methodical approach was rewarded as he made his way to the base of the tree, gazing up at the bird above him. It was impossibly loud now, enough that he had to flatten his ears to try and block out the noise. And still, it remained blissfully ignorant of what lurked below.

He tested the ground below him twice, making sure that it was sturdy enough to support his leap. It was. His heart pounded in time with the pecking. And then, when everything was right…

He leaped.

His outstretched paw slammed into the bird's back, his claws digging in to pull it with him back to earth. The woodpecker struggled, but it stood no chance against a predator, succumbing in a matter of heartbeats to his killing bite.

He knew better than to look around for Tinyfrost, but he hoped his mentor had seen his catch. Hunting woodpeckers was difficult enough in a normal forest, but in the Twoleg-made forests such as these, it was a task he was sure even the best hunters in the Clans would struggle with. Pride surging through him, he began dragging his kill back to the temporary nest that held the Shadowclan elders.

His mentor was already waiting for him when he arrived. "Good work." He commented simply as his apprentice approached. "Why don't you give that to Archtail and Crowtalon? Then we can head back for the hollow. The other apprentices should be finishing up now."

Firepaw nodded, brushing past him to enter the den. Inside, the elders were enjoying the spoils of his hunt, sharing tongues with each other. They stopped as they caught sight of him, watching as he crossed the den to lay his offering at Archtail and Crowtalon's paws.

"It's been ages since I had a good woodpecker." Archtail commented to his mate, sinking his teeth in almost as soon as the bird had landed. "Fresh, too. It's shtill warm." He nudged it towards the other elder for her to try as he savored it himself.

The dark molly took her own bite. "I shupposh it's adequate." She mumbled through the mouthful of feathers and meat.

This was high praise coming from the two of them, even if neither would admit it. "Have a good night." He dipped his head respectfully to the both of them before backing out. He knew better than to wait around, hunting for compliments he wouldn't receive.

Tinyfrost was already waiting at the border of Tallpines when he emerged. Together, they slipped through the broken section of fence, making a straight line towards the training hollow. "You did well today." The black warrior commented as they traveled.

Firepaw's fur grew hot at the praise. "Thank you, Tinyfrost." He replied quickly, not daring to meet his eyes as they traveled through the undergrowth.

For a moment, he thought the little warrior might say something else, but instead he remained quiet. They spent the rest of their journey traveling in silence, and it wasn't long until they reached the edge of the training hollow.

Graypaw and Lionheart were already waiting for them there. "Firepaw!" The gray tom called to him, bounding across the sand to nose him in greeting. "You'll never guess what I caught today!"

"Oh yeah?" Firepaw grinned back at him. "Well, I bet you'll never guess what I managed to catch today!"

Graypaw studied him for a moment. "An owl?" He finally guessed.

Firepaw blinked in surprise and shook his head. "No, not quite that big. Why, did you catch an owl?" He had been near the Owltree, after all…

Graypaw pouted and shook his head. "No, but that's the only thing more impressive than what I got." He replied, licking his chest self-consciously for a moment. "But I did catch a huge crow! Almost as big as a raven!" He finally burst out, no longer able to keep it to himself.

"Really? How'd you manage that?" Firepaw asked, impressed. He glanced at Lionheart, wondering if maybe his friend was exaggerating, but to his surprise the golden warrior dipped his head in an approving nod.

"Well, it was pretty old." Graypaw admitted. "But it was enough for Rosetail, Halftail, and Patchpelt combined! None of the elders could find fault with it."

"I'll bet." Firepaw purred. "Well, I caught a woodpecker from the ground! It was pretty big, too. Archtail and Crowtalon were sharing it when I left."

"That's great!" Graypaw chuffed admirably. "Maybe it'll impress Bluestar enough that we'll get to go to the next Gathering?"

Firepaw shrugged. With how the previous Gathering had gone, she hadn't allowed any of the apprentices to go to the Gathering a few nights ago. Cinderpaw had been upset, but he couldn't find fault with the leader's decision; now that Shadowclan knew where their camp was, any such occasion could be a trap. The night had been thankfully quiet, but the risk always remained.

"Where's Ravenpaw, do you think?" The other apprentice asked, looking around. "Darkstripe usually likes to be the first cat back."

"Probably still returning from the Great Sycamore, if I had to guess." Firepaw flicked his tail in the direction of the tallest tree in the forest. "I wonder if he caught anything interesting?"

Just as he finished speaking, the two dark toms in question bounded through the trees, Ravenpaw struggling to keep up behind his mentor. The ginger tom couldn't help but gasp as he saw what was dangling from the apprentice's mouth; two long, fat snakes that threatened to entangle his paws.

"Ravenpaw! What in Starclan's name are those?" Graypaw bristled in shock beside him. Firepaw had to feel much the same way. Even though they were obviously dead, the mere look of the venomous creatures struck fear into his heart. "They didn't get you, did they?"

"Nope!" The skinny tom replied proudly. "I was too quick for them!"

"Can you eat them, do you think?" The large gray apprentice poked one with a paw curiously, as though afraid it would somehow come back to life and spring at them.

"Trust you to think of your stomach!" Firepaw chuffed at his friend's question. "How'd you catch them anyhow? Did you hunt as far as Snakerocks?"

Ravenpaw stared at him. "Of course I did. That's where I was supposed to hunt." He responded, almost puzzled at the other apprentice's question.

"But that's so dangerous!" The ruddy tom gasped. "What if you'd been bit?"

"He wasn't." All three of them flinched at Darkstripe's growl behind them. "You three should get back to camp. I still need to go collect the rest of my apprentice's catch." With that, the dark tabby disappeared back into the forest, flicking black tail tip the last thing they saw.

"I wonder why he's so upset?" Lionheart wondered to Tinyfrost beside him as they all set off on the path back to camp. "His apprentice did well today."

Firepaw couldn't help but feel a chill at the thought. Maybe Darkstripe had been intending for his apprentice to get bitten by an adder? Had he been acting on Tigerclaw's orders? He couldn't ask the others about it for fear the two mentors might overhear, but his paws had never felt heavier as he returned to camp.

Camp was buzzing with activity when they returned. "Did something happen?" Firepaw asked the nearest cat, which happened to be Rosetail.

"Goldenflower has had her kits!" The multi-colored tabby purred from where she was sitting with the other elders. "Five in total, according to Speckleflight."

"That's fantastic news!" Lionheart rumbled from behind him. "I should go bring her something. I'm sure she's exhausted." With that, the giant warrior bounded towards the freshkill pile to select something for the queen.

"I must go report to Quickflash about your progress." Tinyfrost spoke as softly as ever as the apprentices turned to him. "Firepaw, why don't you bring something to the healers? Spottedleaf always works hard during kittings, I'm sure she could use it." With that, he trotted across camp to where the deputy was talking with his mate.

"What do you think I should do with these?" Ravenpaw asked as he dropped the dead adders at his feet. "I'm not sure I want to add them to the freshkill pile…"

Graypaw nudged one with his paw. "You should put them on the tree stump by our den! We can use them to spook the pelt off Cinderpaw." He grinned conspiratorially at the other apprentice, who shared a small smile in response. "I'm gonna help Firepaw with the healers. I doubt there's anything in the freshkill pile that's big enough for all three of them!"

"That's true." The ginger tom admitted, waving goodbye to the older apprentice with his tail as he and the gray apprentice departed. "What's Spottedleaf's favorite, do you think? I know Yellowfang loves a good vole."

"She's always been partial to squirrels, or so Dewpaw says." The two apprentices picked through the freshkill pile, looking for anything appealing. There were no voles, but Firepaw gently collected a couple of mice by their tails instead. "I remember catching this one myself. I'm sure she'll love it."

Burdened with their offerings, the two apprentices carefully entered the healer's den, where Spottedleaf was teaching Dewpaw herbs. "Now, we'll give her some borage, so she'll have enough milk for all of them. We'll be using that to replace the usual herbs now that she's nursing. Raspberry leaves as well, since-" She broke off as she spotted the two apprentices. "Oh, perfect! Are those for Goldenflower?" She asked, taking the mice from Firepaw before he could answer.

"They're actually for you and Yellowfang." He responded quickly as she cut open a mouse's belly. "Lionheart already took something to Goldenflower."

Spottedleaf huffed, pausing just before inserting a few herbs into the cavity she'd created. "I was going to wait to treat her!" She pushed the mouse towards Dewpaw. "Nevermind, I suppose. She'll just have to take them raw."

"We could add a little blood and nectar, to help with the taste?" The little molly spoke up, nodding to Firepaw. She looked truly comfortable now, a far cry from the introverted apprentice he had met on his first day. "Thanks for bringing these, you guys. We haven't eaten yet today, not since Frostfur called for us this morning."

"Anytime." The ginger tom replied smoothly. "Where's Yellowfang? Still in the nursery?" He asked curiously, glancing around as though she might be lurking in some hidden crevice.

"Yes, she's just making sure they're all good and healthy. Did you hear? She had five! Spottedleaf told me that the largest litter she'd seen in her time as healer was ours." She flicked her tail towards her brother. "I'm already learning so much, and I've only been a healer's apprentice for six days. It's wonderful!"

"Ah, to be a young apprentice again." Firepaw turned to see the grizzled molly he'd been asking about enter the den with a flick of her tail. "They're all breathing well and have latched. One of the girls and the red boy are a bit small, we'll have to keep an eye on them." She reported swiftly to Spottedleaf, who nodded as she looked down at her herbs. "And what about you two? Why are you in here?" She asked, frowning down at the two warrior apprentices.

He could feel Graypaw's nervousness beside him, so the ginger tom figured he had to be the one to reply to her. "We were just bringing you a meal, since Tinyfrost thought you might not have had a chance to grab a bite yet." He nodded to the mice the calico had taken from him. "Those are for you, and the squirrel is for Spottedleaf and Dewpaw."

The dark gray healer dragged the discarded mouse over to her with a claw. "A little small, but I suppose it will do."

He rolled his eyes to the other two apprentices at the molly's typical dismissive response. "I thought you'd be perkier with the new additions." The rest of the Clan certainly was; even Patchpelt had been smiling when they entered. "Isn't it good news?"

Yellowfang shrugged at his question. "I've never been good with kits. They're so loud and needy." She was hard to read, even for him; if he didn't know better, he'd think she was annoyed at the kitting. "At least Wetnose stayed quiet most of the time I was treating him. His brother Finchflight threw the biggest fit when he came down with kittencough."

He watched her take a bite of mouse, frowning at her usual grumpy attitude. "But more kits is good for Thunderclan, is it not? They're our future."

"So what?" The old healer spat at him, swallowing her mouse. "I'm not a Thunderclan cat, remember? I'm only here until I can return to my real home." She glared at the mouse in front of her. "They're not my future."

The two toms glanced at each other uneasily. "I guess that's true." He concurred, not wanting to anger her any further. He glanced at Graypaw uneasily, beginning to back away. "We should get going. Lots to do before the day ends and all."

Neither of the healers responded to him, but Dewpaw waved at them with her tail. "Have a good night, you two!" She called as the apprentices departed hastily.

"That was weird." Graypaw mumbled to him as they crossed camp. "I wonder what that was about?"

"I don't know." Firepaw admitted, feeling disappointed at Yellowfang's words. "I guess I knew she was waiting to return to Shadowclan eventually, but she's been doing so well here. I was kind of hoping she'd stay."

"You'd feel the same way if you were stuck in Shadowclan." The gray tom pointed out as they met back up with Ravenpaw, who was now sitting next to Pepperpaw. "You can't blame her."

"Still." He nodded to the gray tabby molly as he sat down in his usual spot. "I assume everything is quiet on the Riverclan border?" He asked her.

She nodded. "As boring as ever. At least it sounds like everyone else has been having fun while I was out on patrol." She gestured at the snakes Ravenpaw had wrapped carefully on the tree stump. "I can't wait to see Goldenflower's new kits. Did you hear anything about them visiting the healers?"

Firepaw shrugged at her question. "There's five of them, apparently. But everyone in camp seems to know that now." He glanced at the nursery, where Frostfur and Lionheart were proudly sitting guard. "Yellowfang mentioned one of the toms is red and there's at least two girls."

There was wonder in Pepperpaw's eyes as he spoke, her ears perked forward. "I hope I get to meet them soon. They sound adorable."

He wasn't sure how she had gotten that out of what he'd said, but he was hardly going to argue about it. "I guess so." He glanced over his shoulder to see the last apprentice entering camp. "Say, there's Cinderpaw!"

The darkest of the gray siblings bounded across camp, ignoring the hubbub around her as she ran straight for them. "What are those?" She yowled, coming crashing to a halt as she stared at the adders Ravenpaw had caught.

The circle of apprentices purred at her reaction. "Thank Ravenpaw for those." Graypaw said, nudging the tom with his shoulder. "He caught them during his hunting assessment at Snakerocks."

"They're huge!" She gasped as she batted at one with a paw. "I bet the Shadowclan elders would love them." She added with a sly glance to her brother as she continued playing with it.

"I can't believe you're still on about that." The gray tom groaned, rolling his eyes at the rest of them. "If you're so sure they're edible, why don't you eat one?"

Cinderpaw scoffed at him. "Uh, because I'm not a Shadowclanner, duh." She redirected her attention to Ravenpaw in an instant. "Hey can you show me how to catch these? Then I could be…" She crouched down dramatically before leaping into the air, landing solidly on the tree stump and knocking the adders off of it. "Queen of the Snakes!"

One of the adders was flung into Ravenpaw, the long scaly body wrapping around his neck before he had a chance to react. The black tom all but flipped over himself as he sprang away, kicking at the snake in a desperate attempt to get it off. After a few moments it finally flopped into the dust, staring emptily out at nothing.

"Watch it!" He finally spat at Cinderpaw, panting heavily.

"Why, Ravenpaw?" Firepaw asked, crouching and slinking towards him. "Scared you might get bit?" He asked as he sidled up to the other tom, hissing quietly and twitching his tail like a rattlesnake's.

Ravenpaw glared at him for a moment before leaping forward and catching the ginger tom on his back, lightly rolling him onto his side. "Some snake you'd make. You're even easier to catch than these were."

As the group dissolved into purrs, Firepaw couldn't help but look around at each of his friends happily. Things were finally looking up for all of them. The borders were safe, they'd done well in their assessments, and Dewpaw was on her way to becoming a healer herself. This was the sort of thing he'd dreamed of back when he had first met Graypaw, and now it was a reality. If only things could stay like this forever.

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