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#laughing dove
todaysbird · 1 year
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Today's bird is a laughing dove. Fun fact: its name comes from its low coo sound that is reminiscent of human laughter!
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momoksha · 22 days
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a laughing dove singing in the morning on a rusty pole!🕊🌅🎶(x)
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kavohh707 · 2 months
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One of the many doves I encountered on my trip to the Algarve in Portugal. At first I thought this was a turtle dove, but then I looked closer and the black and white neck spot was missing. Next I did a picture search with Google and discovered that it is a laughing dove (also called palm dove), which is really interesting, because they can usually not be found in Europe but live in Africa and the Middle East. So I guess this bird made the way from Northern Africa to Portugal.
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proton-wobbler · 11 months
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Battle Royale
Family Reunion (C-2)
Some families are more popular than others, you know? It's a miracle there wasn't a submission for ever single corvid that's ever existed. Instead, we have these guys.
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punkedsolar · 1 month
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The Laughing Dove
Its distribution range expands from most of sub-Saharan Africa, to North Africa (Morocco, Tunisia, north-east Libya and the Nile valley in Egypt), to the southern part of the Arabian peninsula, to Iraq and Iran. It has also been introduced in Palestine.
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nature-nerd-sarah · 7 months
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Posting birds until I hit post limit: Laughing dove
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columbidaecontest · 1 year
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[ID: two images, in the first, a spotted dove stands. it is pale brown with black and white spots on it's neck and darker brown wings. in the second, the laughing dove has light orange-brown feathers. it is also standing]
who wants seeds and fruits, when you can have the sweet taste of victory? these birds sure don't!
who will it be? the Spotted dove? or will the Laughing dove have the last laugh?
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mishalogic · 1 year
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Ah Nauture you do have your funny moments ... Laughing dove
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squawkoverflow · 2 years
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A new variant has been added!
Laughing Dove (Streptopelia senegalensis) © tomodachibirb
It hatches from black, brown, grey, human, long, pastel, pink, present, repetitious, similar, small, such, urban, and white eggs.
squawkoverflow - the ultimate bird collecting game          🥚 hatch    ❤️ collect     🤝 connect
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drhoz · 9 months
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#1985 - Spilopelia senegalensis - Senegal Dove
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Photo by D. Gordon E. Robertson at Rottnest Island, WA.
AKA laughing turtle dove, little brown dove, palm dove and laughing dove. Originally described as Columba senegalensis, then for many years placed in the genus Streptopelia. However, a molecular study published in 2001 found that Streptopelia was a messy sub-part of Columba, and to make the taxonomy neat again the laughing dove and the closely related spotted dove were moved to the resurrected genus Spilopelia.
Found in semi-arid and dry scrub in Africa, the Middle East, South Asia and now Western Australia after the Perth Zoo released some in 1898.
Fairly common around Perth, now - certainly one of the top three dove species around here - the top being the pigeon, of course. I’m covering it now because it was one of the bird species on Culeenup Island while I was out there doing an Invertebrate Survey in June.
May breed at almost any time of year, depending on which part of the world you’re in. In Australia, the squabs are raised from September to November.
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One of Us is Guilty; Chapter 3
Three are now dead, but the killer seems to be caught ... but this night is not over until the room is found.
Characters; Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Silver, Cater Diamond
Content; Unreliable narrators, murder mystery
Content Warning; Death, murder, blood, anxiety, kidnapping, overall dead dove content warnings
Word Count; 1.1 K
Find this content triggering but still want to participate? Link to the Google Form to vote!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue (Part 1) | Epilogue (Final)
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The body count had risen to three; Dire Crowley, the Ramshackle Prefect (whose blood still stained the floor, the iron scent permeating the air), and now, Divus Crewel as well, the latest victim. One minute the professor was alive, shaking from anger that one of his students was killed on his watch and that he was the prime suspect of the killings. But now he was sprawled out on the ground, killed in an instant.
The remaining students — Vil, Rook, Azul, Jade, Silver, and Cater — were silent, processing what exactly had just happened. The lights had flickered only for a minute, and in that minute, the killer had struck. But the silence was broken by a deafening clap of thunder, lightning illuminating the windows, and bringing everyone back to the present, to their laughably horrible situation that they had found themselves in by sheer chance and bad luck and timing.
Silver sat down on the staircase, and put his head in between his legs, taking deep breaths. Despite his training, he did not consider that he would be witnessing death so soon. The small part of his brain that had a sliver of hope that his friend had survived their gruesome injury, but he was just lying to himself; no one could survive that.
Vil was pacing, hands clasped behind his back, and he was muttering to himself. He thought he could read people, what with being raised amongst the stars that hid behind too-sweet smiles that belied venomous words. What was there to gain from any of this?
Rook was cracking his knuckles, and then rubbing his eyes, trying to think of why this was happening. While he could appreciate the hunt, this was something entirely different. Yet, it also reminded him of several books; one being a murder mystery, and the other about the deadliest game, of hunting a fellow person.
Azul was shaking and biting his nails, his resolve long gone. Had he made himself the enemy of one of his peers? Was he going to be next? He was supposed to just be perfecting a potion recipe for the next test, yet he found himself way above his head.
Jade looked at Azul, taking in that his house warden and friend was shaking more than the leaves outside in the howling wind. He too was disturbed by the night's events, sick to his stomach even, but he couldn’t show weakness, especially if he wanted to see it through.
And Cater? He was paler than a ghost, a cold sweat glistening on his forehead, and he felt like his heart was going to leap out of his throat. His cheery smile had left long ago, and now panic was fully starting to take control. Why? Why? Whywhywhy? WHY?! Yet he stayed silent.
No one spoke, but they eyed each other with caution. Every time that they had went to the mirror and they voted through it, someone died. Was it the mirror? No… no, that didn’t make sense… None of this made any sense though. 
“No more votin-” Silver whispered.
Cater cracked his head around, green eyes judging every move the underclassman made. “And why’s that, Silver?” His voice was shaky, but Cater wasn’t trusting him or anyone for that matter. “Afraid that-”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Vil barked, commanding everyone’s attention, eyes all on him. But he was used to eyes being on him, and he stayed cool, despite how this may damn him into being guilty in their eyes. He didn’t care at the moment though, all he cared about was no one else dying. “Look at what being suspicious of each other has brought us,” his eyes wandered to the dark clotted blood that had now gone cold. He swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat, keeping the calm mask up. “I agree with Silver though; voting through the mirror only ends up with someone… dead.”
“Then how do we proceed, Roi du Poison?” Rook asked, falling to his house warden’s side. His eyes looked over everyone, picking up their behaviours, emotions, and any tells.
Azul’s head snapped up. “The potion-” he started muttering to himself, before clearing his throat and gaining his composure again. “A truth potion, but one that shows the truth about the situation, we can use that to find the killer.”
Cater looked at Silver, and offered him his hand; a peace offering. Silver took it, and brought himself up on wobbly knees. A truce.
Jade placed his hand on Azul’s shoulder, offering him a bit of comfort that not everyone was out to get him. “Was that what you were working on?”
Azul nodded, and he started making his way towards the alchemy lab, where hopefully they could put an end to the killer’s little charade once and for all.
Vil helped Azul make the potion, and both students kept a keen eye on the other, but they made it without incident. And to show the others that they hadn’t tampered with it at all, they took it first, with the others shortly following suit.
“What about the room?” Silver asked.
“We can figure that out once we find the killer,” Jade countered.
Everyone looked at each other, taking in any minute details, but everyone was calm; the potion apparently did wonders to calm the nerves… but that in itself was a dangerous effect, since now everyone’s guards were down, making them easy targets.
Vil took in a breath and released it. “Who killed Dire Crowley? Why did you then kill the Prefect, and then Professor Crewel?” 
But no one spoke up.
“It isn’t me,” Vil said confidently, hoping that his speaking up prompted the others to follow suit.
Cater was to his left, and he spoke next. “I didn’t do it.”
Then Silver, “Or me… I couldn’t do something like this…”
“I did not do it either,” Jade offered.
Azul’s eyes went wide, and he eyed the next person in line. “The killer isn’t me.”
All eyes fell on the last person left in their little circle; Rook. With all of them but him left, that only left him.
He let out a throaty, quiet, chuckle. “I suppose this game has run its course,” he tipped his hat to them, green eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light. “As for why? Hmmm,” he hummed, and the hairs on everyone’s necks stood on end. There was something off about Rook, this wasn’t Rook. 
“You’ll find that out when you guess the room.”
What?
Everyone took a step closer to each other, away from Rook, and they whispered amongst each other, voting on what room Crowley’s murder took place in.
“Alchemy lab,” Cater spoke for the group, trying to keep his resolve as Rook seemed to stare into the very contents of his soul, like he was searching for something.
Rook stepped forward, still smiling. “Ah, désolé Monsieur Magicam,” the whites of his eyes started turning black, “but you would be wrong.” The lights flickered again, and in the seconds of darkness, Rook was gone, and so was Cater.
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GOOGLE FORM (voting will end Wednesday, October 18th at 9pm EST)
SUSPECTS:
- Silver; the kindhearted knight with a mysterious past, is it just for show?  (Plum) - Vil Schoenheit; the actor who is always pigeonholed into the role of a villain (Scarlet) - Divus Crewel; the alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion, Crowley’s co-worker (Peacock) DECEASED - Rook Hunt; the enigmatic hunter who always has a hunch of what’s happening (Mustard) MURDERER - Azul Ashengrotto; the owner of The Mostro Lounge, a businessman with dubious morals (Green) - Reader; the ‘house-keeper’, a role that was imposed on them by the late Headmage (White) DECEASED - Jade Leech; a student enamored by fungi and seems to have a foreboding presence about him (Orchid) - Cater Diamond; the preppy beau of Heartslabyul, but his smile seems forced (Peach) MISSING
ROOMS:
- Main hall (eliminated in Chapter 2) - Teachers’ lounge - Cafeteria - Kitchens - Lecture theatre - Botanical garden - Alchemy lab (eliminated in Chapter 3) - Library - Crowley’s office (eliminated in Chapter 1)
WEAPON: MAGIC (found in Chapter 2)
To be continued
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🥺 hi. I get so anxious asking for requests. So I’m sorry if it’s weird. But could I please please Pleaseee get a ghost x fem reader. Hurt to comfort. They were on a mission and she’s there for medic help. Not even to fight. But she got taken by the bad guys. And she gets tortured for information that she doesn’t have. And they play mind games with her. Making her think that they will never come rescue her. They really fully break her body and break her mind by the end of it. But before she thinks she’s about to finally die, Ghost and the others come and save her. And it’s about how the only person she feels safe with after all that is ghost and just him helping her heal and get back to the woman she was before all this. I want it to hurt my soul. 😭 but then there’s hope at the end of it bc they have each other.
My Heart Will Go On
Don't be, I love when people ask me things, and I looooved this request so much!!! I too like to torturehave fun with my OC's :)
TW: Blood, torture, manipulation
Pairing: GhostxReader
Part 2
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all, actually. It was just another mission, another day on the job. You went out with the boys as usual, their assigned medic as theyghost refused to work with anybody else. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was your soft demeanor, your gentle touch, the way you never judged himthem for anything hethey did. But whatever it was, they liked you, and so with them you went.
You hung back at the evac point, also as usual. Sitting in the truck, first aid kit on your lap, a comm in your ear as you listened to your boys and made sure they were all okay. It was a tense fight, gunshots and pained grunting filling your headset. You were on edge, rocking back and forth as you listened for your que to come in. In fact, you were so focused on the comms that you didn’t even notice the danger you were in until it was too late.
Your first cue something was wrong was when the comms went silent. The sounds of battle filled your ears for hours before getting cut off abruptly. Your hand shot to the comm link, fiddling with it as you frantically tried to reconnect, worried something was wrong.
“Ghost, do you copy?”
“Ghost?”
“Price?”
“Gaz?”
“Can you hear me??” Your voice got more and more panicked as you got no response. You yanked the headset off and shrugged your vest on, kit in hand as you slid out of the truck.
Your second clue something was wrong was when you looked up to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at your face. You didn't even have time to ask ‘what’ before everything went dark.
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“Hello, princesa.” You blink hard as the blindfold is removed from your eyes. The light is blinding, the splitting headache you got from being pistol whipped only intensifying under the harsh lights.
“Who are you?” You manage after a moment, eyes slowly focusing on the man in front of you. He is large, easily over six foot, and built like an absolute unit. His face is covered by a black balaclava, though his scarred, tattooed forearms are on display.
“Don’t play stupid with me.” His voice is deep and smooth, and if you weren’t in the situation you are in you would have asked him to keep talking.
“‘M not! I don't-"
“Don’t lie to me Princesa. I don’t like liars.” A shiver runs down your spine as his tone darkens.
“But I’m-”
“Ah ah lovie, I am one asking questions here.”
“I wasn’t ask-”
“SHUT UP!” You flinch back at the drastic change in tone, the sound sending bolts of pain through your skull.
“Oh sorry Princesa, did that hurt?” Seriously, you are going to get whiplash from his bi-polar personality, “Forgot you have concussion. Let's get you Advil for that and then we see if you talk, yeah?"
You watch with blurry vision as he leaves the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound sends waves of agony through your pounding head, and by the time you can focus again he's back.
All it takes is one well placed blow to the head, an attempt to get you to pay attention, and you're out like a light.
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“I don’t know anything I swear! Please! I don't know anything!” The sobs tear raggedly out of your throat, already raw from screaming. Your voice is scratchy and broken, but still you can't stop begging.
“I don’t know anything” You sob. Those words, I don’t know, had become your motto over the past few daysweeks(?)
“Oh Princesa. I know.” He croons, running a finger down your bruised face.
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Time was meaningless. Has it been 2 days since you were captured? Two weeks? Months? You don’t know. Your meals come at staggered times, and your captors never come at a routine time. The lights turn on and off at staggered times, nothing in a set pattern, a system created to mess with your mind.
Not that you know that. This wasn’t the kind of life you lived. You were a medic for heaven's sake. Your hands had been built to mend, to fix, to heal. Not to clutch at broken bones, to scratch against cement, to be chained and broken. You arewere a gentle creature, not designed for this world of torture and terror.
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"They no come for you." You moan as the words pound through your skull, nearly unintelligible.
"Wh'...y'say?" You mumble, voice scratchy and broken.
"You're friends, Princesa. They are no coming for you." He sighs and moves next you, prodding your side with his steel-toed boot, "You are replaceable, your skills are easily replicated, they no spend time and resources to find a simple medic."
"They…'ll c'me." You wheeze, refusing to belive that Price, that Gaz, that Soap, that Ghost, would just...leave you.
He laughs in response, digging his toe into your side until your gasping in pain.
"We shall see, Princesa. We shall see."
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You weren’t built for this. Weren’t built to recognize the manipulation, the mind games. Weren’t built to survive the two-face man who was reshaping your brain. The man who was your greatest source of pain, but also your only friend. The man that flayed your flesh open, but soothed and bandaged you when it was all over. This man, who was slowly becoming the only thing you could trust in your unstable world. He may bring you unbearable pain, but he brought you comfort too.
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"That looks bad, Princesa." The man lightly touches the bones sticking out of your forearm. You whine in pain, clutching it to your chest. He chuckles, wiping your blood off on the cell floor.
"Let's get that fixed up, yeah?" His voice is soft, and gentle, and the nicest thing you've heard in a loooong time. His touch is the same, gentle caresses of bruised and broken skin, revolting and appealing at the same time.
Oh, it's utter agony as he sets and stitches your arm with no pain killers. You scream, back arching, lungs heaving, body seizing.
But after? Oh it's heaven. He holds you, cradling you against his warm body, making sure you don't go into shock, telling you you're a good girl, and that you've made him proud. You hate yourself for it, but you can't help but preen at the praise.
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He brings you a calendar. One month. It’s been one month since you got taken.
“It’s been over a month.” He says, a deep voice tinged with pity, “and no sign of your…friends. I’d give up being rescued if I were you, because they clearly have.” You can barely hear him as you stare at the paper in his hands, 31 days marked off with big, bright X’s. 31 days that you have been trapped here. 31 days that your squad…hadn’t come for you. Is he right? Are they really not coming? Did Ghost really give up on you? Are you-
“Ay Princesa, I even did what you asked. I sent your squad pictures and videos that even the greenest tech member could pull some coordinates from, but nothing. It’s like I said. Your ‘friends’ don’t care for you. They are not coming for you. I am your only friend in this place. Tell me, who bandages your wounds, who feeds you, who makes sure your living space is comfortable?”
“Y-you do.” You whisper uncertainty, “But…you also hurt me, don’t you?”
“Oh Princesa, I wouldn’t hurt ya if y’ would just listen. It not torture if you're disobedient. It's just…punishment.” His voice is sickeningly sweet, “And you just back-talked me. Do you remember what happens when you try to give me sass?”
"I get…punished." You mumble, cheeks flushing with shame.
"Obviously, you fucking idiot. I mean how."
"I…you…I have to do affirmations."
"Look at that, y'r gettin' it!"
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"Say it again." He snarls. You sit in front of a mirror, face bruised, bleeding, and swollen.
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends…'re n-no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'v'ble…I 'm r'pl'c'…able." You whisper for the hundredth time.
"Again."
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
"Again!"
"I 'm r'pl'c'able, my friends 're no'...c'min'...I 'm no' l'vable, I 'm r'pl'c'…able."
He makes you keep going, repeating those 4 sentences until you literally can't make sound anymore, a fact he tests by seeing how much it takes to get you to scream. You pass out before he gets anywhere.
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"Ghost?"
"Simon?"
"Please."
"Why are you not coming for me?"
just FYI if the timing seems disjointed and the speech is wierd, that is intentiweird,
anyways I hope you liked it!!!!
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momoksha · 2 months
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learning to fly..🕊(x)
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how am i supposed to survive school if i know very well that my english teacher won't tell us to carpe diem and make our lives extraordinary and yell quotes and kick footballs to classical music and rip pages from our books and start a secret poetry society with all of my queer-coded friends and-
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muffin-snakes-art · 5 months
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"Professor... I challenge you to a battle of wits!"
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shhh-secret-time · 18 days
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Put your greasy little thumb pads all over Kenny's face. Smear his face around as you GAME!!
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