#that's why the environment looks green too. I kept cycling through its settings trying to cancel it and upthe brightness instead lmao

[vimbry]

#spyro the dragon #spyro 2 #gifs #when getting that game crash clip yesterday I forgot the rom I was using was Kly_Men_COmpany's camera freeze mod #accidentally triggered it when doing cheats in the menu and couldn't remember how to turn it off #that's why the environment looks green too. I kept cycling through its settings trying to cancel it and upthe brightness instead lmao #but I got a cute line-up of spyro and sparx's idle animations

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XXIX: Mother of the Forest

When I received the call, an open refrigerator door hummed as its light leaked through to the dim space that was my apartment. Its light chill came as a breeze while I placed a bag of grapes within. Automatic, robotic, subconscious movements: standing in place, pivoting from one item to the next. I once heard that every seven years, the human body becomes anew, the old self having died out. There was a faint memory of a self of mine, a few deaths ago, long before the idea of having children ever came to pass, who stood and bagged groceries for minimum wage, and wondering how she would balance work and getting through high school.

In that same moment, I repeated that past life, in a more private setting. Just an hour prior, I had been the customer in line at the checkout counter. The woman behind me who I assumed to be one life older than I, arguing with the cashier over an expired coupon. Her spittle flew over the counter, and the scrawny and zoned out worker covered his face with the back of his arm as a means to protect himself.

I’m better than that. I’m not that kind of person, I often told myself, although if I had any sense of honesty, I often was. Something about the desire to be right, even when you know you don’t have a case, held such a sweet and sour taste; some of the grapes in the fridge had already spoiled from my last grocery visit.

My hand reached for the bottle of cranberry juice, but it soon became out of reach as my phone vibrated right beside it. There was a disconnect – a momentary hesitation – where I stood in place.

Just put that juice away, then answer it, my thoughts buzzed and scraped across my ears. Who was I to deny them? I had no expectations that the call would amount to anything of substance. If I had to guess, it might have been my boss, ready to beg and guilt trip me into working on one of my days off. That was a foolish decision, as I didn’t even notice the name on display on the screen. If I had, I would have picked up right away.

So it buzzed. Twice. On the third buzz, the refrigerator door swung closed and I picked up the phone. That was when I saw the name on the phone and a magnetic pull from below sent all the blood in me to sink down to the tip of my soles. When I tried to speak, I thought I would only manage a gasping breath. But instead, it was a normal, if gasping, voice:

“Demetria? Is that you?”

Not since I last heard from her, several months back, did I ever think I would hear from her again. No, maybe that was unrealistic. It wasn’t that I didn’t think I would hear from her at all: a simple hi every now and then sent through text, happy mother’s day or happy birthday messages. Those were the least (or most) I could hope for. But what it was instead was a belief that she had gone down the same path of the rest of my children and was too busy with her own life to think much of me.

So when she told me the truth, that she had dropped out of college, moved to the arctic over some crush, and worked as a waitress in a restaurant, I was elated. Any shock or sense of betrayal I may have felt didn’t register because there she was, alive, and wanting to come home. One of my children actually wanted to see me! It was enough to make me want to tap my shoes together and do a little jig!

After our conversation, however, I had no choice but to be aware of the environment I was in: empty, so empty. Every little space was covered by every day objects or some assortment of clutter. Paper towel rolls, post-it notes, bowls of fake fruit, tea and coffee cups, a box of makeup from that time I was suckered into buying from a friend’s multilevel-marketing gig. That was just a small sample of things which took up space on the kitchen counters. That didn’t even cover the hallways or the living room.

It was funny, really: when my kids lived with me, I’d get onto them about cleaning the house and made sure they did so. But when it came to me, alone and (in my own mind) free, I pretty much said, “fuck it, this is my space” and let the clutter do its thing.

Well, it sure did its thing, didn’t it? Hopefully Demetria wouldn’t mind.

When it came time to meet her, I felt the pervasive feeling that she wasn’t someone I recognized. It wasn’t the green hair, although that I didn’t expect. Nor was it her coming out, which although the notion never crossed my mind, didn’t really come as a surprise, either. Her loss of interest in her studies? Unfortunate, but not unheard of, especially when one attends university. Her new interest in knives? Concerning, but I could live with it.

No, it must have been something else. Even when she tried to revert to her old self, who I knew her as, I could tell there was something different. What it was, I just couldn’t place, but a thought crept in which brought shivers across my spine:

Maybe she’s not different and maybe I just never knew her very well to begin with.

That thought didn’t know what she was talking about. As far back as I could remember, Demetria was someone withdrawn and preferred her alone time. She valued hers and others’ hygiene and was quick to judge others, but also seemed to have a good heart deep down (at least, I’d like to think so). I always tried to give her her space, as I knew I would have wanted the same if I were her.

But there were little things which made me wonder if I was perhaps living with a different Demetria than the one I raised. One such example was when I sat at the sofa, watching one of my soap operas, Young and the Breastless, when I took a quick glance beside me to see none other than Demetria, pacing about and reading a book. Well...I assumed she was reading, but the book was upside down. She shook her head while she paced, flipping from page to page.

“Nope. I just can’t get into this,” she muttered, and it sounded less disappointed and more like she hadn’t yet given up hope that she would. I leaned forward and saw the title of the book: ‘Banana Fish.’

“What’cha up to?” I asked, and the show no longer took up my attention, instead becoming white noise.

“I’m trying to get back into marine biology, so I figured I’d read a new fish textbook, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t get into it,” she explained and peered up from her book.

“Are you sure it’s about fish? I see a couple of guys on the cover,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I’m assuming it’s one of those edutainment-type deals. Y’know, like Pajama Sam. Anyway, they haven’t actually talked about fish yet, but maybe it’s a slowburn textbook.”

Call it mother’s intuition, but something told me that book had nothing to do with actual fish. Props to her for trying to get back into her old interest, but she ought not to force herself.

“You know, you don’t have to get back into marine biology,” I suggested, “maybe pick up a new interest. What about knives?” That was such a weak suggestion, but it was something.

Even with her glasses on, she squinted, although it seemed less like a vision thing and more for effect, as if to say, “are you crazy, mom?!” It was weird to admit, too, but I already missed her green hair and as much as she tried to appear and act like her old self, it only seemed to highlight how much she had changed.

“What am I gonna do? Knive-ology? I don’t think that’s a thing,” she snapped her fingers for added effect.

Her old self would have just said something like, “I don’t want to make a career of that.”

I knew she had returned home due to having such a rough time with someone, but if anything, she had been more expressive. At least, around the house. I still couldn’t get her to go outside. Through every cycle of one’s life, it seemed at the core, some things remained.

Another day, I was watching a different soap opera on my day at work, this show called ‘The Good Doctor’ (yeah, generic name, I know).

“Good doctor! Your patient is having heart complications!” The assistant rushed to the good doctor in a panic. The good doctor sat at his desk with a suede suit and a polka dot tie and looked up, a bushy eyebrow raised.

“What’s the complications?” He asked, before pushing himself out from his seat.

“It’s complicated! Hurry!” The assistant urged the good doctor, who then rushed into the patient’s room. In the room, the patient leaned up from his bed, a shriveled up old man.

“Are you a good doctor?” He asked, a gravelly voice.

“I am the good doctor,” the good doctor replied, rather humbly, too.

“My heart keeps beating,” the patient moaned. “I don’t know why.”

“That’s what hearts do,” the good doctor answered, and a smile spread across the patient’s face.

“Wow, thanks doc. I’m cured!”

My viewing experience was interrupted by a plop as I turned to my right to see Demetria’s face looking back at me while she hung off from the top of the couch upside down.

“What’cha watchin’?” She asked in a tone that indicated that she was bored and didn’t really care.

“The Good Doctor,” I told her as I tried to keep my attention fixed on the show.

“Gee, I sure hope so,” she snickered. “If I was at the hospital, I know I’d want to be seen by the good doctor, not the bad one.”

I nudged her.

“Since when are you such a smart-ass?” I asked.

“You missed a lot of character arcs,” she continued the snark. “I went through several developments and regressions, and now I’m here.”

“I can see that,” I teased right back. Yes, two of us could be sarcastic.

“No, but for real, I’ve always been like this,” her voice turned quiet, contemplative. “I’ve just usually kept it in my head.”

That. That never occurred to me.

“Well, it’s fun,” I remarked. “I’m really glad to have you around.”

Her (glasses-less) eyes widened, then turned to a near-squint.

“You are?” She sounded quite puzzled by such a statement. As if it weren’t obvious to her.

“Of course! You’re my kid!”

“What about your other kids?” She pointed out.

“I love them, too, but they never come visit me. Well, Hestia does sometimes, but that’s still rare. It gets lonely here, you know.”

“What assholes,” she scoffed. I nudged her again.

“Those are your siblings you’re talking about!” I scolded, something I didn’t think I had to do. Oh well, it was a playful scold. “They’re good people, they’re just busy much of the time. Hestia’s an architect and works with various non-profit groups on the side. Hermes has his job as a fitness instructor. Then there’s Log...he’s busy being Log.”

“Sheesh, what’s with all these Greek myth names, anyway?”

I drummed up a storm of laughter, something which wasn’t really funny, but sometimes I just laughed to reminisce.

“Funny story about that…” I caught my breath. “Back when I was your age, I won a contest to go study abroad in Greece.”

“Did it come with a time machine?” She butted in.

“Are you gonna keep snarking or you gonna let me tell you?” I shot back. In response, she slunk down the couch, then sat up in a flurry of movements.

“Fire away, cap’n!” She gave me some goofy salute.

“So while I was at some museums, I met this nice Turkish guy and we hit things off pretty well. We went to a nice cafe and I got to unload my love of myth to him. That’s when he laughed and told me he was half-Greek himself, and he was visiting some family. After I went back to the states, we kept in touch as penpals and sent letters to each other back and forth. You probably don’t need me to tell you the rest.” I stopped myself. If I were to continue, it would have been a much longer story than it needed to be.

“Uh, yeah I do. What’s that got to do with giving us weird names?”

“Well, you know how there’s that tradition in our family to name ourselves after trees. My mom named me Sequoia, and she was Cypress. So when I had my first kid, all the relatives wanted to know what tree-related name I would give them. I gave it some thought and then decided that I wanted to do something different, so chose the name of a goddess I loved, Hestia.”

“Ugh, Hestia,” Demetria groaned, “it’s always ‘Hestia is bestia’ and ‘is there nothing Hestia can’t do?’ It’s grating.”

While I admit the praises seemed rather excessive, I was proud of her, just as much as I was proud of all my children in some way or another.

“Next came Hermes, and at that point, the whole family was up in arms, begging and pleading for just one tree name. So I compromised and said that if I had a third kid, I’d name them something tree-related. That seemed to get them off my back.”

“Thus, lo and behold, Log was born,” Demetria raised her head up and put her hand to her chest, almost singing out the words. Talk about dramatic.

“But then, you were born, just a few years after Log. I really didn’t expect to have another kid, and I figured to balance things out, I’d name you Sycamore. But then I decided: fuck it. You’re Demetria. And the rest was history.”

Yes. I was sure she heard the explanation before, but I suppose it bore repeating. It was just a shame that she never got to meet her father.

“What was he like?” She once asked me.

“He was a kind man. Patient, loved to listen to others. Never had a mean bone in his body. You would have liked him, I’m sure.”

“Would I have?”

“Maybe. I suppose it’s hard to say.”

Yes. Just a few months before Demetria was to come into this world, Beet Root (he took my last name) lost his life in a car accident. It was hard, to say the least. More than hard. But what else could I do? I couldn’t just stop raising my kids. So I continued on, through the grief and confusion. So it may have gone that she was born with a little bit of grief and confusion as well.

At least with the way things were, there was more time we could spend together. More things I could learn about her. There were still things I would have liked to see from her, though: making friends, finding a job, getting outside more. All things she didn’t seem to want anything to do with. I mean, she came out to me, didn’t that mean she wanted a girlfriend? It wouldn’t happen if she didn’t try.

I know, I’ll help her out, I thought in the middle of my shift. While my main job was working front desk at the Himbo Hotel, I’d sometimes work as a part-time taxi driver on the side. It didn’t pay a lot, but it was fun to meet different people, sometimes.

One person that I picked up was a tall and twig-like girl with blue and pink pastel colored denim clothing (jacket and pants) and hot pink hair.

“Are you Macie?” I asked as I rolled down my window.

“I might be,” she replied, then got in through the backdoor.

Once she was in, I let curiosity get the better of me.

“So...I’ve got a daughter,” I mentioned.

“Yeah? You want me to babysit her?” She asked offhand.

“No, no, I was just wondering if you’d like to meet her.”

“Why?”

“Well...she’s gay…” As soon as those words left my mouth, I saw her put the back of her hand over her mouth in the rearview mirror and laugh.

“Okay then, what’s she like?”

“Hmm...well...she likes...knives?” I just realized how hard it was to describe her to someone else.

“No thanks, I’m not into the hardcore type.”

“She’s not hardcore! It’s just an aesthetic thing...I think. She also likes to work out, and she’s got a bachelor’s degree in zoology.”

There. I think I listed enough positive traits.

Macie shrugged.

“All right, I’ll bite. I’ll write down my number. But if it turns out to be one of those weird catfishy things, I’m blocking both of you and leaving a one star review.”

I gulped, but couldn’t help but whisper a triumphant “yes!”

After I dropped her off at her destination, I returned home and raced to Demetria’s room to deliver the good news. I knocked on her door and after a few successive pounds, she opened up. She stood with a small towel over her forehead, a black tank top on, and working up a sweat.

“Hey! Guess what? I got a girl’s number!” I couldn’t wait for a greeting, I just had to tell her.

“Aw, you didn’t even give me time to guess…” She turned her head and looked down, disappointed.

“Aren’t you excited?”

“Oh, yeah, grats.”

“No, not for me! For you!”

“Oh. Not interested,” she turned away.

“Come on, you might like her! At the least, you might make a friend!” I urged her. She should’ve at least tried.

“I don’t wanna make any friends, especially not with someone I know nothing about.”

“It’s not good to shut yourself off in your room!” I pleaded.

“You never had a problem with it before.”

...She had a point. I shouldn’t have minded so much, but I just really wanted to help her out and didn’t know how.

“You’re right. I hope you’ve had a good day,” I softened my voice, then closed her door.

Other than watch TV and eat together, we didn’t really interact much. That was fine, we didn’t have to, but she should’ve at least interacted with someone. What I saw in her wasn’t someone who was in her room all the time, indulging in her study. Instead, I got the notion that she was deliberately avoiding going outside. As if there was something out there that she was afraid of. If that was the case, I didn’t know what.

There was one girl I managed to get her to speak to, though. Granted, it was her sister, but it was something. Especially since I knew how much she didn’t like to spend time around her siblings.

I had a video call set up with Hestia on my laptop.

“Hey mom, how’s things been?” She asked, her bright smile ever-present on her face. She was seated at the dining room in her own apartment, a much more effervescent air surrounded her while her tucked back teal hair took up a large part of the top of the screen.

“I’m good, things have been great, actually. Demetria’s living with me now,” I told her.

“Oh? I remember how freaked out you were a while back ago. It’s good to know she’s okay.”

“I know, right? Apparently she went to the arctic for a while because of a crush.”

Hestia laughed, a sort of high-pitched “ohoho” laugh.

“She always did do her own thing, didn’t she? I regret not being closer with her, but what’s done is done and there’s no room for regrets.”

“You could come visit,” I suggested. And it wasn’t just that I was lonely. “Maybe you two could hang out or something.”

Hestia put her index finger on her chin and hummed.

“I would like to, but you know how busy I can be. I won’t rule it out, though, ‘kay?”

I sighed. That was the best I could hope for, wasn’t it?

“By the way, it turns out she’s gay.”

Again, hum.

“I’m not surprised at all,” she replied, that same kind voice as ever. “Did you hear about Hermes’ new boyfriend?”

I shook my head.

“No, what’s he like?”

“No idea! But he says he has one, and he seems happy, so that’s all that matters, right?”

“Heh, guess so. Say, how’s things with your girlfriend?”

“Good, good. Aphrodite’s been helping me volunteer at an animal rescue on my days off.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Maybe you and Demetria can bond over your love of women,” I suggested. That was met with another hum.

“That’s a decent enough idea, but everyone experiences love differently, so we may be too different to relate to one another.”

Just because it wouldn’t be exactly the same, that didn’t mean the two couldn’t relate, could it? That just didn’t make sense to me. Yet when I could have voiced as much, I didn’t.

“Would you like to talk to her right now? I could go get her,” I instead said.

“Of course, I’d love to say hello to my dear sister!”

“Demetria!” I called for her. Without a moment’s hesitation, she made sluggish motions toward the dining room. After rubbing her eyes, she looked my way.

“What?” She groaned.

“Wanna say hi to Hestia?”

“Sure,” she shrugged, then looked at the laptop screen. “’Sup?”

“Why hello, Demetria! You’re looking as cute as ever!” Hestia oozed joy from the swaying of her head.

“Uh, thanks. You’re looking tryhard as ever, yourself,” she replied in a flat, deadpan tone. I nudged her.

“Be nice,” I whispered. She looked up at me in response, a wide-eyed and pathetic expression on her face.

“No puppy dog eyes, either.”

“How have you been, Demetria?” Hestia seemed to wave off the snarky remark, “do you still shut yourself off in your room?”

My face felt like it was about to turn red, but Demetria seemed unfazed.

“I shut myself off in your mom,” she shot right back. As if she was some grade-schooler.

“Ew. We have the same mom.”

Yes. That same mom was listening to the two of them as they spoke.

“Uh...well…” Demetria stammered as she struggled to save face.

I snickered. Now both girls looked at me and in unison asked, “what’s so funny?”

“It’s nice to see you two get along so well,” I remarked.

The two laughed as well at that notion.

“Yes, I agree,” Hestia proclaimed, “it was nice to hear from you, my dear sister. You look well.”

“Yeah, later, spoiled princess,” Demetria shrugged, then walked away. Then, the unexpected happened:

“Butthead!” Hestia yelled back, and stuck her tongue out. Upon realizing what she had done, she put both hands over her mouth. I shook my head.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“I don’t know, that was rather unbecoming of me. Do forgive me,” she spoke all fancy, then gave me puppy dog eyes as well.

“You’re ten years older than her! You’re supposed to set a good example!” I cried out. To that, she raised and index finger and with her eyes closed, gave a triumphant smile.

“Actually, we’re both adults, so if anything, she should know better than to have such an attitude!” She declared.

Once again, I shook my head.

“Talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too, mom! Do give Demetria my sincerest of apologies!”

The video call ended. As much as that (began and) ended in bickering, it was still progress. They spoke to each other. Baby steps. Maybe after that, she would branch out a little more and –

I could only wish.

About a week after that conversation, I got off work and noticed a text on my phone. I opened up the message and I felt my heart caught in a bear trap:

Demetria: Hey, try not to worry too much when you get home, but I won’t be there. I went outside and got a smoothie like you wanted me to. It was good, but it got me thinking how I the whole time I’ve been with you, I’ve felt stuck. Not stuck because of you, but stuck because I haven’t found any interest that I’ve felt passionate about. I don’t know what I want to do and it frightens me. So I’ve decided to go off and try to figure things out. I’ll see if I can stay with Juniper for a little while, maybe a change in environment will help. Love you, and goodbye for now.

I rushed home. I tried texting her back, but it wouldn’t send. I tried calling, only to receive dead air.

Her phone must be off. But why? Is she in danger?

Frantic, unsure of what else to do, I called Juniper.

“Hey, is Demetria with you?” I asked, as Juniper answered right away.

“No? Not unless she’s hiding somewhere. Why?” She seemed genuinely puzzled by my question, meanwhile I was still hyperventilating.

“She left me a message. Said she’d be with you.”

“Huh. I haven’t heard anything like that. But maybe she’s on her way? I dunno.”

“Okay. Just. Let me know if you see her, okay?”

“Sure thing! Hope she’s doing all right!”

“Me too.”

I hung up. Next was Hestia, but not because I thought she’d know Demetria’s whereabouts, but just because I needed someone to vent to. The phone kept ringing, but there was no answer. Then it timed out.

Of course. Because she’s always doing something.

However, just a minute later, Hestia called back.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” She greeted.

“Demetria. She...she…” I had trouble getting it all out.

“Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. She ran off.”

“Oh my…”

“I don’t know what to do. She left a message saying she’d see if she could stay with Juniper.”

“So maybe she’s with Juniper.”

“I called her and she said Demetria’s not there. I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I can tell. When did you last see her?”

“This morning. Right before work.”

“That’s probably why. I’d say it takes more than an afternoon to reach Juniper’s place.”

Right. That thought never occurred to me. But then, where would she stay on her way there? Motels? What if something bad happened there?

“I’m just...I really thought she would stay. I gave her her space. I let her do whatever. But she didn’t want to make friends and she didn’t want to leave the house and –”

“...Sounds like she left the house, though,” Hestia pointed out.

“You’re right. I should be happy. She’ll be fine. She was fine before.”

“Mom.”

“What is it, dear?”

“Chill. She’s an adult. Just let her do her thing. She’s always been an independent person, so let her be. If she wants to come back, just tell her ‘no, I’ve made my choice.’”

I balked.

“I couldn’t do that!”

“I’m not saying to be mean. Look, I know this family’s known for being overly nice, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a pushover. It’s bad enough you’re a worrywart.”

“I just don’t want to be too tough. I remember how Juniper’s mom was and I told myself I wouldn’t be like her.”

“You’re not…” Hestia muttered, then continued, “you’re afraid of letting her go, aren’t you?”

That struck me. Not because of how harsh it was. No, her tone of voice was sympathetic, if anything.

“I just wanted to spend more time with her,” I began to tear up, “She didn’t stay for very long and I thought I could have some company.”

“I understand. It probably gets lonely.”

“It does…”

“It’s not too late for you, either. You can try to make friends, you can go out and have fun. You should take care of yourself, too.”

“You’re right,” my voice turned weepy, but I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. I gotta go, mom. I’m busy petting goats at a petting zoo. Did you know that statistically, one in five goats don’t get pet?”

“One of your volunteer works?” I asked.

“You know it.”

The call ended after that. So once again I was left in an empty house, full of clutter. Days went by, the same routine, and I waited for some update, some word as to where she was. So far, nothing. At a certain point, I considered adopting a ferret. I hadn’t quite decided yet, but it might help.

#remoras full #wriitng #stories #this chapter is on the short side #I admit this chapter is kind of rough in terms of quality #but thats okay #im allowed a not so good chapter every now and then

[og-danny-dorito]

《 Call Out My Name 》

〔 A/N :

     Hey, I know no one likes reading this part so I'll try to make it brief. This was done as a gift for @youthbitch whom is very entertaining and sweet and honestly just flat out adorable with the coolest and most creative ideas I've heard in a really long time. I hope y'all like this, even though it's not that great of a project considering some of my other stuff. Basically Jason tells the reader to vent and they do, leading to an awkward pat and a promise that he'll be there for them. Tell me if y'all want gendered five or not and I'll release ones for any genders separately or change the pronouns in some to be custom to male, female and/or gender neutral. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you like the story thing.

⁃ Danny ✌🏼🗿 〕

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  Cigarette smoke pooled on the hotel ceiling. The scent of it hanging in the air, the visual as it whisked in curls on itself as it moved freely, even the feeling of it curving around your skin made you feel the familiar sensation of a flipping stomach. You could remember the exact moment where this had all began; where the phone calls on the middle of the night and the surprise break-ins through your window took place has remained no lost memory even though it happened quite a few months ago. There was always someone nearby, always someone watching. It had been like that from the beginning.

  He was quiet as he breathed, his eyes closed as he inhaled the smoke from the cigarette between his left index and middle finger. It was a crime how pretty he looked while breathing in that cancer stick. A self destructive item for an equally self destructive person, you supposed, but it didn't stop you from feeling the same amount guilt for not being able to talk him out of it. You weren't perfect; you never had been. And you didn't intend to make it so either. So why did he look at you like that? Why when he touched you, you felt like the most implant person on the planet? Why, even though he rarely spoke, did his words feel like they were made for you? A chunk of you felt shame for it.

  Shame for the selfishness of wanting to keep him there, with you, away from what he so often found solace in even though it was a continuation of the past events that left him so scarred and beaten. You weren't a perfect empath, but if you were in his position, every day would feel like the beginning of the end. Waiting for it to all come back looping. For the cycle of attachment, pain and grief to repeat itself only to halt when he could no longer bear to witness its gruesome pillage of the people around him and himself. No matter how strong he was, he felt the pain. And you saw it. When you were alone. When you were quiet and settled. With his hands gripped tightly to you and his head rested in the nook of your shoulder. Armor did only so much with a fragile warrior underneath.

  "I can almost hear your thoughts from over here." His voice was low, kept quiet due to the desire to keep this serene state of the room. The TV ran, but the words weren't heard. Background noise; always a good deterrent from doing any hard and focused thinking. He seemed to take another drag from his cigarette, and, turning his head over to roll in your direction, he shifted in place to adjust his sore muscles a little. Jason hadn't bothered to undress into pajamas much less take of his shoes before getting into the bed, settling with just putting on the TV, lighting a cig and letting his thoughts run with a warm body next to him. Of course, he hadn't ever implied using you as just a warm body, but you had thought it over and decided you didn't mind much if he used you like that for a night or two.

  You were quiet before glancing over, leaning your head back against the board of the cheap bed frame. Silence. You couldn't find anything to say that might contribute, but he managed to stay patient. You noticed he was getting better at that lately; he must've been going to therapy more often lately. "Something up?", he said, concern lacing his tone. You raised a brow, moving your head over just enough to roll to meet his eyes. Vibrant green, like radioactive waste., almost like they were glowing. A light at the end of a river. Or a beacon of a lost past long since having been chased after in hopes of its repeat. The question jarred a small grin out of you. "Not much you'd be interested in. Why, you wanna switch listening positions for tonight?", you asked, sounding coy. He snorted a little, rolling his eyes before taking another drag from the cigarette. It was interesting to see how his lips closed around it. They were chapped but full. Almost made you wonder what they'd feel like under the pad of your thumb, but you were smarter than tricking yourself into thinking it would happen.

  Jason exhaled the smoke after keeping it in his lungs for a while. It shot from his lips quickly, soon rising to the ceiling before eventually dissipating after a few moments of lingering around it. It was so dim in here you could imagine that the ceiling wasn't grimy and stained from previous chainsmokers. But you doubted anyone else had revealed the deepest parts of themselves like you had both done before here. His amused grin turned to a small frown as time passed, and you watched as his brows furrowed. "I'm..." he paused. "I'm just concerned, is all. You just seem a little dissociated. Haven't contacted anyone lately or really talked to anyone in a few days, even me. I might be reading this whole thing wrong, but if something's up, you can...” He took a second to shift a bit in his seat. “...I want you to let me know."

  The last sew words seemed to permeate for a good few reasons, but he spoke with such determination in his voice you swore he'd hunt down and strangle your problems to death if it weren't for the fact that they weren't tangible. You ran a hand through your hair, and almost immediately he managed to grab a small strand and twirl it between two fingers. He had always been fascinated with your hair, although you never found much special about it. He seemed to care more about smaller details than the bigger picture. For a good few seconds, you remained quiet, eyebrows furrowing to try to figure out what the hell to say without making yourself seem pissed off.

  He extended the cigarette to you, and you shook your head before straightening up a bit. The bed creaked under the pressure. "I uh..." You squinted at the TV ahead. Seemed like some infomercial was on, but it didn't catch your interest. Even though you wanted to, you didn't change the subject entirely to the infomercial since he'd pinpoint that as avoiding the question and would then be even more worried for you. You attempted to sort your thoughts, but you supposed venting wasn't about organization. "I'm not sure, to be honest. I like...I'm just getting tired of all the shit around me, yknow? I just want things to change."

  He nodded, making sure to slowly make his way up to rub at your scalp. It felt oddly nice, maybe even a little soothing, to have someone vaguely pulling upon your hair. He was quiet, taking drags from his cigarette whilst also paying close attention to you. But thankfully not to the point of feeling like you were being scrutinized. "But..my goal takes time. And I'm a patient person, but I can't...I don't want to wait if it's all I do. I wonder a lot if it'd be different if I was somewhere else in a different environment, but I don't want to just...leave everyone. I've got a good system set up.", you said, furrowing your brows. Jason was quiet as he listened but made sure to nod while you spoke. He sighed a little, leaning back. You were feeling yourself sink into the mattress. You had to get somewhere tomorrow, but it wouldn't kill you to fall asleep here. You'd probably sleep easier if you were next to him, anyway.

  He seemed to tense a bit at the last part, but spoke nothing of it. The only way you could tell was how his left bicep shook a little to make your hair feel like you were being petted like a cat, but he covered it up by shifting quickly enough to play it off as an attempt to get more comfortable. You pursed your lips. Maybe he felt uncomfortable. You refrained from talking for the moment, letting him mess with your hair for now. It made you feel at ease, although the tenseness in your shoulders gave away your lack of relaxation. From the corner of your eye you could see him slow to a stop in his movements, scooting a bit closer to your side. "What would you do if you could?"

  The question made you pause, head tilting back to expose the bare flesh of your neck and the slight sheen of sweat that formed on the surface like a veil. It wasn't even that hot in here, but since he was an old man and always hated the cold he cranked it up enough to leave you a little damp on the skin. He might've liked it actually; the way it shone in the light brightly to make this messy afterglow on you was priceless. It was odd to think that you weren't just some vivid hallucination he felt when he got like this, that you were a living body with weight and a mind and tangible flesh. Even more so, it was odd to think that you even felt comfortable talking to him about this. Jason didn't deserve this. He was becoming more sure of it as time passed.

  "I don't know. I..." Your brows furrowed, leaving you with your eyes blankly looking to the tv. White noise, a distraction. A distraction from focused thoughts or too much of them. The only time it wasn't helpful was when you were trying to genuinely sort out your thoughts; like writing words on a page, only to have your elbows violently jerked every so often by some outside force to derail you for a few moments. Your joints and muscles felt sore from the day. It had been a long one, and you were pretty sure you needed another swig of the beer that was sitting between your thighs. Grabbing it, you brought the rim of the bottle to your lips, letting it clink against your teeth softly before allowing the burning to go down your throat.

  He was quiet as you did this, letting his hand fall to his lap where the cigarette slowly burned out. "I wouldn't know where to go from here. I mean I have an idea but I don't know if it'll work...", you trailed off, letting your head drop. It took Jason a moment to fully register what you said  but by the time he did he was already splaying his hand out at the back of your scalp. His hands had always been chapped, regardless of whether he was working or not. Always something to keep him busy. Always something to keep his mind off of things. But he didn't feel the anxiety he had before at most things. Now it was a dull undertone of a feeling, a familiar knot in his chest that made his brows furrow together and his mouth pull into a taut line in thought, just as he had now.

  You assumed he was listening intently, but a part of you wished he would feel more than you thought. Simple confusion was easy to decipher, but he seemed more...concerned. Concerned for you. Which seemed like an odd concept right now considering you did most of the worrying. But you didn't question it, and after a few long moments of glaring at the TV screen and letting the slow feeling of sleepiness come over you, you felt the hand leave your scalp to snake around your shoulders.

  This initially caught you off guard, but as soon as you saw that Jason was narrowly avoiding eye contact and lighting another cigarette with his free hand and the stick between his teeth, you found yourself cracking a small but noticeable grin. The bags under your eyes seemed to disappear for a moment as the muscles beneath your cheeks scrunched up. "It's uh... it's gonna be okay, alright?", he said gently enough to hear but not loud enough to echo. You sunk a bit into the mattress and his arm behind your head, head turning lazily in his direction. For a moment he seemed awkward, but at your relaxation into his embrace, you felt his arms soothe a bit under the pressure and revert from their tensed state. "Is it?"

  The teasing question made him avert his eyes even further, finding interest in the wall nearby. But it was noticeable that he was blushing, regardless of the poor lighting in the room. Here- where it smelled like ashes and cleaning products, where the light burned a dying yellow and the mattress creaked under little to no pressure, where the smallness of the room and bolted down furniture made you feel odd and away from home. Here is where you felt the most safe right now. Not with anyone else, not anywhere else. Just here. And as you reached over for the cigarette between his lips to take a drag from it yourself, you watched as the smoke rose to the ceiling and dissipated without another word.

"I'm here for you, Y/n."

<<_E N D_>>

#Jason Todd #jason todd headcanon #jason todd headcanons #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagines #red hood headcanon #red hood imagine #red hood headcanons #Dc #dc comics #dc comics headcanon #dc comics headcanons #dc comics imagine #dc comics imagines #antihero #jason toddler x reader #jason Todd fanfic #jason Todd x reader fanfic #self insert #self insert fanfic

[thegrandimago]

After hitching a ride with humans, the species has colonised entire areas and may be making the soil too fertile, say scientists

They are a gardener’s best friend, good for the soil and a treat for birds. But the humble earthworm may not always be good news, according to a study that suggests invasive earthworms could be making Arctic soils too fertile.

The earthworm is not typically thought of as an invasive species. “Most parts of Europe have earthworms so we never really saw them as a problem,” says lead researcher Dr Gesche Blume-Werry, an ecologist from the University of Greifswald in Germany. But Blume-Werry and her colleagues realised that “more and more spots in the Arctic have worms because humans brought them there”.

Earthworms move at around five to 10 metres a year in the Arctic, but human mobility means they can jump from the UK to Svalbard in a single move. They are reaching remote areas by hitchhiking in the treads of people’s shoes, from being used as bait for fishing and in imported soils for gardening. As the Arctic warms, they are able to colonise more areas.

Early research indicates that the earthworms could have the same effect on Arctic plant productivity as a 3C rise in temperature.

Typical Arctic temperatures are too cold for decomposers like fungi and bacteria to break down organic matter effectively, causing a lack of nutrients in the soil, which inhibits plant growth. Now, scientists are realising the absence of earthworms is also a key part of the story because they unlock nitrogen, an important component in plant growth.

They do this by breaking down litter and humus, excreting it in their worm casts. Worms move nutrients down to where roots are, through networks of horizontal and vertical tunnels. Anecic worms (the most common in the UK) make vertical burrows and endogeic worms make horizontal burrows. Earthworms that just work on the surface (epigeic worms) don’t make tunnels and are not considered geoengineers.

Taller, scrubby plants (which have grown better due to nitrogen-rich soils) are more likely to stick out of the snow during winter, and scientists believe this could mean more heat is absorbed, accelerating snow melt.

“You have these changes in albedo [the reflective quality of a surface],” explains Blume-Werry. “If the surface is darker, which happens if plants are not covered in snow, then less light is being reflected and more heat is being trapped. You get this positive feedback to warming. The warmer it gets, the better plants grow, and then you have this kind of cycle of more plant production and warmer temperatures.”

In the northern boreal forests of Canada and the US, earthworms had been absent since at least the last ice age, 12,000 years ago. But as settlers from Europe colonised these lands, they brought earthworms with them in the ballasts of ships and on imported plants. Slowly, these invaders changed the forest ecosystem by converting leaf litter into humus. This altered the delicate relationship between fungi and plants, which changed the pH of the top layers of soil, leading to reduced overall biodiversity, according to 2016 research published in Global Change Biology.

In 2017, a team of scientists went digging for worms in the Arctic. Associate professor Jonatan Klaminder, an environmental scientist at Umeå University in Sweden, who was involved in the research, said he had assumed the climate would be too cold and harsh. He was wrong.

Initially, researchers looked at older sites where nomadic Sami people had gathered reindeer for milking between 1600 and 1900 but did not find any geoengineering worms. The first ones seem to arrive in 1850 when people came to the interior of northern Sweden to try to start farming in the Arctic – unsuccessfully, it turned out. At some of these old sites, earthworms had spread 800 metres away from where humans lived, according to the paper, published in Biological Invasions. In total, earthworms were found at around 20 sites. In some spots the worms were found in even greater abundance than in the forests in Minnesota, where they are considered a serious problem.

Arctic soils around this area generally have 10cm of poorly decomposed organic material, but at the 19th century site in northern Sweden the organic layer on top of the soil and leaf litter had disappeared, just as it had in the northern boreal forests in the US. Most of the spots in which earthworms were found were near human settlements such as old farms, cabins, gardens or fishing sites, which reinforced the idea they were brought in by humans.

Geoengineering earthworms have now established themselves in Arctic soils in North America, Greenland, Iceland, Fennoscandia, and Russia. In the paper scientists warned earthworms “may pose a potent threat to some of the most remote and protected Arctic environments in northern Europe”, and called for immediate action, as the worms are almost impossible to eradicate once they have colonised.

Klaminder says the research is a canary in the coalmine. “During the past 10,000 years we have not had geoeningeering earthworms in the landscape. And suddenly if we introduce them this will change how the system functions, so that’s why we’re seeing a strong impact … If you have 10,000 introduction points then this could be a very rapid process.”

In the latest experiment, Klaminder, Blume-Werry and colleagues wanted to find out what these earthworms do to plant growth. They put soil in containers, or mesocosms, that were 50 x 39 x 30 cm and filled them will heath and meadow vegetation. The containers were kept at Abisko Scientific Research Station, which is 200km north of the Arctic Circle.

Around 45 worms were added to half of the mesocosms. To determine root growth scientists put a camera in the soil that took photos of the roots at regular intervals. The “greenness” of vegetation (a measure of photosynthesis and therefore plant productivity) in the different containers was also monitored to work out how much impact worms were having.

The effects caused by geoengineering earthworms were “as strong, or even stronger, than other important environmental drivers in the Arctic”, such as temperature increase, grazing animals and fertilisation using deer faeces, researchers wrote in their paper on the experiment, published in Nature Communications.

Earthworms increased plant nitrogen concentrations on average more than three times as much as a 3C increase in summer temperatures. They caused an increase in plant greenness that appeared similar to the increase caused by a 3C temperature rise. Blume-Werry said the researchers were “super surprised” by the scale of the impact.

Earthworms are not the only invasive species threatening the Arctic. Polar limitations of where species can reach are quickly eroding. In the summer of 2008 scientists sampled the footwear of 259 travellers arriving in Svalbard by plane. They found an average of 3.9 seeds per traveller, which equates to 270,000 seeds for the entire year, according to the team’s paper, published in Biological Invasions. A quarter of the seeds collected germinated under local conditions.

Polar and alpine ecologist Jesamine Bartlett from the Norwegian Institute for Nature Research says there are approximately 8,000 individual dandelion plants that have been creating “enormous lawns”, she says. “What’s alarming is that a couple of years ago there weren’t that many. They’re visually very striking. Every year it changes slightly depending on how warm the summer is.”

Earthworms are also probably a lot more widely distributed than we think, says Bartlett, but there are few specialists working in this area. “I don’t think we’re aware of it at all,” she says. “Some of the major activity in Svalbard has been going on for decades. It’s very likely this could have spread further and no one has done a basic survey of just running through the most populous towns and gone through it to see what is there.”

Detritivores, including earthworms, are some of the most damaging invasive species you can get because if people don’t see them they don’t think they’re a problem. They change the foundations of ecosystems and set a precedent for other invasive species looking to move in. “They are the aliens to watch. Don’t be distracted by the big glossy, invasive plants. See what’s happening in your soil,” says Bartlett, who has set up a “stop Arctic aliens” website to raise awareness about the importance of making sure visitors do not accidentally bring in unwanted species.

Research in this area is still in its infancy, says Marc Macias-Fauria, an ecologist from the University of Oxford who was not involved in these studies. The mecocosm research by Blume-Werry et alwas creative, smart and timely, he says, given Arctic ice melt and increasing numbers of humans in the region. It would be interesting to see how growth varies in different Arctic environments, he adds. “The discussion is engaging and exciting but this is a first stage, there are many more questions in front of the paper than behind it”.

In general, big Earth systems – ways of modelling the interacting physical, chemical, and biological processes of our planet – do not look at the impact of animals and vegetation on the land . Instead, models looking at vegetation are usually dictated by research on the climate. There is only one climate model – the Madingley model in Cambridge – that looks at the impact of animals. Macias-Fauria says encouraging more of these big models to incorporate the role of animals is “definitely very welcome”.

Dr Bonnie G Waring, an ecologist at the Grantham Institute, who was not involved in the research, says it highlights how humans change natural ecosystems in myriad ways, not just by burning fossil fuels. “The Arctic is experiencing multiple perturbations that could lead to rapid and profound restructuring of high-latitude ecosystems, and we need to study these disturbances in a holistic way,” she says.

#science #nature #animals #biodiversity #conservation #wildlife #environment #climate change #earthworms #invasive species #nitrogen cycle #arctic #plants #soil #global warming

[thecorteztwins]

(Maddy and Haven fic! Tagging @sammysdewysensitiveeyes since it was their idea. TRYING to tag @esteicy-blog but TUMBLR WON’T LET ME LATELY) They had met in Limbo, literally. Both of them had been awoken, trapped there, after their respective demises, due to their being “tainted” with demonic energy. Thus, rather than going on to wherever everyone else got to, they instead did not truly perish, but merely had moved, including their earthly body, to another plane, one where such energies allowed them to survive. The denizens there let them be, and indeed gave them both a wide berth. The power of the demons that had left their marks on these women had the same effect on lesser entities as the scent of an apex predator did on smaller ones in its environment--keeping them far at bay in fear.  It was a boon, yes, keeping them from being torn to shreds or worse by the loathsome inhabitants of the realm, but it was a bitter one. A reminder that they were forever marked, forever set apart, forever a part of them warped and evil and wrong even though they had thought their nightmare was over with their deaths.  They had found each other, there in that twisted geography, two alien loners, two angels lost in hell. Naturally, they had banded together as traveling companions, roaming the only world that would have them anymore.  Along the way, they’d learned about each other. Madelyne had opened up first. Her pain was a raw, angry one, a pain that reached out of herself because it was too much to contain in her own limited being, in anyone. She had made the world itself feel her pain, made all of Manhattan share it; she was not private with it. Yet in her strange way, she had come to be possessive of it too; it was one of the few things that was HERS. Haven, who had kept the secret of her “Voice Within” for twenty years (though it turned out, in the end, she didn’t know its TRUE secret), who was not the headstrong spitfire that Madelyne was, but instead raised a restrained and refined lady who had only ever broken one rule (and paid dearly for it) while Madelyne made her own, took more time. She was still ashamed, something Madelyne was not, and something Madelyne encouraged her against once she knew about it. ”Just because the creatures who did this will never feel shame,” she’d said, “Shouldn’t mean we have to!” Madelyne KNEW this wasn’t her fault---or Haven’s---and that was what made her mad! Madelyne, someone who had been a hero with the X-Men, someone who had advocated mutant rights back when she’d so foolishly thought herself human, had a strong sense of justice---and she raged at how it had been denied them both, while Haven took a sad, silent, stalwart approach. But when Madelyne had begun to express her experiences, bringing them forth in angry tears or bitter comments, Haven had begun to open herself to Madelyne in kind. Not to compete with Madelyne’s pain, but to comfort her in sharing it, as so few could. Both of them were also women of great compassion. Haven had been a philanthropist, tormented by the pain of others and using all her great means to assuage it. Madelyne had helped save lives with the X-Men....and given up her own life to save the world. Save the world, ironically, from the same creature that had entered it again years later through Haven’s womb. They were women who, in their natural state, cared deeply and truly and, in Maddy’s case, fiercely for others---thus, naturally, they had compassion for one another. And it helped them find compassion for themselves too, though each believed the other lacked enough for herself. Maddy, because she saw that Haven was not vengeful. Haven, because she saw that Madelyne was. Like right now; returned to Earth and life by unknown powers (Madelyne assured Haven it was a pretty regular thing) the redhead had immediately begun a plan to attack the X-Men, in particular Scott Summers and his new telepathic paramour. A plan that, Haven, of course, opposed. “How many of them had an evil phase?” Madelyne griped, “How many former villains are in their ranks? And yet it’s ME ALONE who is forever outcast from them. If they want a wicked witch to hate, I’ll give it to them!” “Have you tried to rejoin them?” “No! But they might have offered.” “But you would refuse?” “Yes. But they should offer. I was with them for years. Some even met me before they met the OTHER WOMAN. How can they just forget me for her when they knew me FIRST?”     “ It doesn’t sound like they were worthy friends for you, Madelyne. If they’ve forgotten you, why not forget them? It’s unfair, for you to be the one burdened with a grudge.”     “They deserve it!” Madelyne exclaimed in pained, furious passion, her eyes wrenched shut from sheer emotion, her fists raised and clenched, her body actually doubling over as though she had been struck in the stomach. Haven’s voice was still calm...and yet, with no less emotion, in its own serene, loving way, “What about what you deserve?” That took Madelyne aback, and instead of answering it, she ejected in shocked, accusing betrayal, “You’re trying to manipulate me!” For Madelyne, of all people, knew manipulation when it came her way. It had been there with her first breath...and her last. She would say she’d never expect it from Haven, but the truth is, she expected from anyone in the end. As for Haven, she did not deny or deflect it, and that did surprise Madelyne somewhat, though it did not pacify her. “I...suppose so, yes, you’re right. It isn’t how I think of it, but I am trying to urge you towards a goal that I want, even as you’re telling me that I want the opposite, and I am trying to use words to appeal to you. To steer you, even. Because I don’t want to MAKE you do anything, Madelyne, and I doubt I ever could. But I do wish that you would want something different.” “And what would you get out of it?” “My initial response is, nothing. But upon a moment’s reflection---I would get my own happiness. It pains me to see someone so victimized, so wounded, so wronged, and it also pains me to see anger, hate, vindictiveness, even when justified...especially since it continues to hurt you. So in you doing what I believe will alleviate your pain, mine would also be alleviated. And I suppose also, I am trying to push my own worldview. To move you in the direction I believe is right, because I believe it is right. I do genuinely wish for you to be happier, to be better--but there is a certain arrogance in my belief that the path I advocate will provide that, and that the one you have chosen to pursue will not. It’s understandable to push back against that, to be angry, to be insulted---especially since it’s coming from someone who should understand where you are coming from.”

“So you want me to be like you. You just want me to forgive everyone and let this go, because you think being a doormat is the moral high ground?” “Forgiveness...helped ME heal. Holding a grudge..may be what helps you heal. That’s for you to decide. But not forgiving them...does not mean you must still pursue vengeance. It tethers you to them, as much as you were tethered before by the machinations of others.” “Don’t preach at me!” Madelyne nearly screamed, face and body twisting in pain again, “I earned my vengeance!” “It is not the validity of your rage I question,” Haven tried to urge her back, “It is your willingness to hurt yourself for it. I don’t want that for you, Madelyne. You’ve been so wronged. You deserve more for yourself than becoming a villain in someone else’s story.” Madelyne felt patronized and also penetrated, simultaneously like Haven was pretentious and self-righteous and talking down to her and trying to tell her what to do and how she felt...and also like her description was exactly accurate. A villain in someone else’s story. Because it always had been someone elses story from the start, hadn’t it? Not hers, never hers. She was the lover, the mother, the evil witch, but never the heroine. She was there to be sacrificed or sacrifice others, but never to save them or be saved. And every time she tried to strike back at the X-Men...she couldn’t deny, the cycle continued, with her pain and humiliation and rejection and defeat all over again.    clenched her heart like a squeezing fist , the knowledge that this was all that she had left to her now if she stopped...she was nothing. her life was intertwined with theirs, with scott, from the start. If she gave it up, as painful as it was, who was left? She’d used to be so confident. I am what I am, she had said to Sym. But that had been before she’d known what she REALLY was. A fake. An illusion. A ghost made flesh, who only existed now so long as she returned to haunt those were truly real, truly alive, truly people. People with REAL memories and REAL desires, things they TRULY had lived and felt. Even Haven had that!       “You have a life to go back to!” she yelled, “This IS my life!” “It doesn't have to be,” Haven had moved towards her, standing close to her, had put her hands on Madelyne’s upper arms, gently holding her, looking into her suffering, angry green ones with her own sorrowful loving dark ones, “You can make your own life---you have nothing now, but that means your canvas is clean--” “It will NEVER be clean!” Madelyne was in agony, and nearly in tears. “People can change, Madelyne. You weren’t always like this, were you? Your experiences changed you. You can change again.” Her voice a sob, Madelyne turned her face away from her fried, “There’s no going back.” “No,” Haven agreed softly, “There isn’t. But there can be going forward. You can never be how you were before, never un-know what you now know. But you can also be a new person. We’re all always changing. You can too---and this time, you get to steer.” Her hands moved down to Madelyne’s own, fingers intertwined with hers, and Maddy found herself grasping back. In a small voice, she asked, “Where do I even begin?” How did one start making a life, an entire person?  How could you build YOURSELF from nothing? “Let’s start with something you love,” said Haven gently, “Something that’s just yours. And always has been.” Madelyne thought a moment. Then she turned her face back to Haven, opening her eyes, which had been clenched shut again a moment ago, “I think I’d like to fly again.”

[OOC note: Originally, I had written out a bit where Madelyne finds out Haven’s past through telepathy. But then I ended up writing them as having opened up organically to each other prior to this argument, and I liked that better. However, I still really liked the mind-reading scene, even though I cut it, so here’s my outline of how it would have gone down: And what are our similarities, Mother Theresa? One of the saddest expressions that Madelyne had ever seen outside a mirror. The crazy thing was, it wasn’t even in her face, which remained as gracefully composed as that of a geisha. It was all in her huge, dark eyes, and the furrowing of the thick brows above them. She was struggling with something. Her eloquent tongue was finally wrapped around something she couldn’t spit out. It made Maddy curious enough to keep listening; what was Miss Perfect here hiding? Did she accidentally step on a bug once and was living in agony with the guilt? An expression of relinquishing, of defeat, replaced the struggle on Haven’s face. She shut her eyes, and there was the sense she had let go, submitted to something, and was steeling herself for it. Opening her eyes back at Madelyne, she said, “I...think it is better to show you. I have not the strength to say. Not now. Maybe not for a long time. But hopefully, one day.” “You want me to read your memories.” “It...is a deeply intimate thing, I know. I understand if you do not wish to.” didn’t usually get that people understood how intimate it was for the person whose mind was being read, but seldom considered how much so it was for the telepath too seemed especially hesitant, must not like people poking around in her brain few did but she was offering anyway Madelyne didn’t think she’d be persuaded, but she was intrigued enough she had to see Well, hold tight to your socks, girl. I’m going in.   seen it seen it all used by a man for her body, abandoned with her child not yet born a demon for her pregnancy 20 years without control 20 years forced into a role she didn’t choose, would never had chosen attacked by X-Men died alone no sympathy, no one, Roma herself---someone Madelyne had met and remembered fondly, someone who had given Maddy life again after her first death---there to tell her she deserved it, even as she begged Roma, begged her not to save her but to stop her monstrous child The Adversry The Adversary, dear god was it possible?! The Adversary---the same demon that had KILLED Madelyne in that first death! Well, not exactly---it had not struck her down, but she had offered her life to Forge’s spell to bind it away from this reality yet it had traveled through time, twenty years back, and found refuge in the womb of this woman, this human woman, human til she wasn’t, just like Maddy, just like Maddy, just like Maddy--             and saw too, the reason for Haven’s hesitancy to show this not just the pain, the shame, the intimacy no, another reason Haven had been telepathically invaded by force before, violated, that was how Haven had felt it, as a violation, how Madelyne therefore felt it now through her memories Xavier forced his way in despite her repeated pleas and outcries against it, had KNOWN she was hiding something in Haven’s forgiving retrospect, she thought Xavier had done the right thing, because she HAD been hiding something, something terrible, she HAD been responsible for the deaths of millions and answers must be found, Haven understood, Haven forgave, Haven thought he had been right to do it as much as it hurt her still but Madelyne did NOT forgive for all her grudges over her self, Madelyne could still take on new ones for other people, because Madelyne still CARED for others, even the people she’d never met, had no ties to, it was why she had left Sebastian Shaw despite him never harming HER, because his actions had the potential to harm other people even if she never saw it And she saw this now, and she did NOT forgive, she--- pulled away, gasping as though for air, like she had been deep underwater physically instead of deep in Haven’s mind Haven’s sorrowful look remained, had increased, and Maddy indeed understood why now     ]

#fic #writing #madelyne pryor #radha dastoor

[avengers-nextgen]

32, 9 and 15 for Natasha and Sage

“Can someone please explain to me, in small words, why I’m being assigned to this mission?”/ “Wait, something doesn’t feel right”/ “Don’t tell me you’re fine! I can see the blood.”

— — —

Sage wasn’t sure why she needed to be in Fury’s office. In fact, she wasn’t sure why he wanted her there at all. Sure, she was a better person now, but she had stabbed him. Still, she found herself sulking down the hallways until she arrived. But only then did her confusion worsen because the only other person aside from Fury within the room was Natasha.

“You asked for me?” Sage frowned, trying not to sound bored.

“Yes,” Fury nodded, “you and Rogers have a mission.”

Of all the things the bald man could have said...he said that. Blinking slowly, Sage tried to sort out her confusion. “I’m sorry what?”

“You and Natasha will be taking care of a mission,” Fury repeated, slower than before.

“I got it,” Sage snapped, “but can someone please explain to me, in small words, why I’m being assigned to this mission? I mean, I don’t normally go on adventures without people my own age.”

“Did you call me old?” Natasha asked, arching a brow.

“No!” Sage huffed, “I’m just confused. That’s all.”

“I’m pairing the both of you together because Natasha has experience, and you have an arsenal of powers that may be useful in making sure neither of you die. Besides, it’s about time you and the rest of the kids start handling more dangerous scenarios.” Fury explained, shuffling papers on his desk.

“We handled Prometh-you know who-and that was dangerous.” Sage reminded.

“Yes, but I’m referring to threats other than a god like man working on some weird political and ideological agenda. I’m talking about stealth missions,” Fury sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “From what I’ve heard, you’re not very...stealthy.”

“I think she understands,” Natasha interjected, quick to cut the conversation short lest the two erupt into a full blown argument. “Just brief us.”

— — —

“Oh this thing is stifling,” Sage groaned, extremely in happy about the wet suit she was wearing. Apparently, though she wasn’t sure why, the base they needed to breach was under water in an unmarked cave system.

“You get used to it,” Natasha smiles thinly.

“Yes, but your normal suit is this tight,” Sage remarked.

“That’s because as a spy you lean that baggy clothes are a hindrance. They have a way of setting off alarms,” Natasha smirked. “A friend of mine wore cargo pants. Set off booby traps and got impaled by a metal rod.”

“Where in gods name were you?” Sage stammered.

“Russia,” Natasha shrugged. The older woman simply checked over the small oxygen tank and mask. Then, without asking, she began checking over Sage’s gear. “Always double check equipment. SHIELD is good about maintenance but you never know. The last thing you want is a mask to break when you’re dozens of feet under water.”

“Right,” Sage nodded, albeit awkwardly. Despite herself, she still wasn’t entirely comfortable around Alex’s parents.

“Drop zone is below, lowering ramp,” Maria’s voice came over their ear pieces. The sudden noise startled Sage. She’d forgotten all about the device.

With a groan that shook the empty cargo hold, the ramp slowly lowered revealing calm waters below. Natasha was the first to move. She edged carefully to the lip of the ramp before leaping off and splashing into the water down below. With a grudging sigh, Sage followed.

The water was cold, or at least colder than she’d expected. She watched as Natasha pulled on the mask and took a few test breaths. Mimicking the procedure, Sage gave a thumbs up indicating she was set to descend below the surface. With a confirmatory nod, Natasha dipped below the surface of the water.

Following closely behind, Sage found it difficult to keep pace with the agent. She was never particularly good at swimming but she’d always been able to manage. However, something about Natasha allowed her to streamline quickly through the water.

— — —

It wasn’t long until they reached the cave system. It’s mouth was dark and gaping like a waiting predator, but with little hesitation Natasha pulled a large light from her belt to illuminate the darkness.

Weaving through the submerged terrain, Sage worried they’d get lost, but nearly an hour later the rocky world around them shifted to strange slick metal. They’d found the foundations to a structure looming above.

Natasha’s beam of light glanced off the metal surfaces exposing a grill in the ceiling. Was it a ceiling? Sage wasn’t sure what to call it. Pausing beneath the hunk of metal, the spy studied it with care before motioning Sage over. Though it was hard to understand, Sage finally understood Natasha’s pantomiming. She wanted her to melt the welding lines. With a tentative nod, Sage produced a green flame. It flickered out for a moment before growing brighter with Sage’s concentration. Frankly, she’d never made fire underwater before.

Following the welding marks, the water began to bubble as metal soon released its hold. With a grunt, Natasha tore the grill from its resting place. Clambering up through the opening she turned to help her young companion out of the water. Removing the mask and slipping it into her belt, Natasha surveyed the area. “We’re on a low level. Probably the lowest one if it’s connected to the sea.”

“So we move up?” Sage asked, shaking the water from her hair.

“Mm,” Natasha nodded, carefully padding down a dark expanse of tunnel managing to make little sound. Sage found the ability to walk silently much more difficult. The combination of the wetsuit, the equipment, and being cold had thrown off her natural stride. “We need the third floor. Can you detect a way to get there?”

“I can try,” Sage nodded. Closing her eyes, she searched the environment for any source of chaotic energy. Nothing came to light. Resorting to a new method, she attempted to do a trace spell-something her father had taught her quite recently-which allowed her to retrace any recent event that’s taken place within an hour’s time frame.

Fortunately, someone had been down on their very floor within the hour. The uniformed individual, made two right hand turns leading to a flight of stairs. It wasn’t much but it would do. Relaying the information, Sage kept close to Natasha as she took the lead.

Moving slowly up the winding metal steps, they neared a large heavy door. With a small wave of the hand from Sage, the lock melted and Natasha eased the door open. The room was dark aside from large running databases. “I don’t know what any of this is. You should’ve brought Fox.”

“Please. Both of you on this mission would make us all dead,” Natasha snorted, eyeing up the technology. “Besides, I know my way around.”

Holding her hands up in surrender, Sage let the spy take charge. She was certain Natasha knew more about this stuff than she ever would. Thankfully, Sage was right, and Natasha was able to locate a wide cube of metal with flashing lights, connecting cables, and a small screen flashing codes.

“Is this what we need?” Sage asked.

“No, what we need are the codes. We need to get a copy of them. That way e can analyze the order and frequency of them. Figure out what exactly this machine operates,” Natasha explained, skimming her fingers over different nooks and crannies. She paused, flipped open a latch, and removed the outer frame. If Sage wasn’t confused before, she certainly was now, because the insides of the device contained even more lights, wires, and green plastic cards.

Feeling about, Natasha located a thin plastic card. “This should keep the machine running long enough for us to get out of here before they notice something’s wrong.”

“What’d you take?”

“This little card programs for a coolant system. It’ll keep things from over heating. It runs on a cycle. What we really need is this-“ Natasha rather violently stripped another piece of plastic from the machine. “A back up coding system. It won’t stop the machine from running it’s just a safety mechanism Incase the original codes are compromised.”

“Great, let’s go,” Sage nodded. Heading back the way they’d come.

“Wait,” Natasha cautioned, catching Sage by the arm. “Something doesn’t feel right. This place is too empty.”

“We have to get out of here one way or another,” Sage sighed, “but I can try teleporting both of us back-“

“No, your strength is important,” Natasha shook her head. She remembered how haggard Sage looked the time she’d saved Alex from drowning. How exhausting it was to make sure they both ended up where they needed to be.

“Then we’ll be careful,” Sage decided, and although she wasn’t excited about it Natasha lead the way back to the lowest level. Only as they rounded the corner a series of gunfire sounded off. Acting on instinct, Natasha grabbed Sage by the collar and flattened her back against the wall.

“Don’t move,” Natasha warned, listening closely for the gunfire to die down. “Damn I knew they’d be here.”

“Well, we’ll have to move eventually. Otherwise we’re sitting ducks,” Sage hissed, flinching at the sound of a bullet piercing the wall by her head.

“Then I’ll give you cover fire. But don’t do anything you don’t have to. Our main job is to get out of here. That’s it,” Natasha warned, peeking around the edge of the wall. A stray shot rang out as she ducked away. “We only have one exit.”

Steeling her nerves, Sage gave a nod and darted around the corner. In an instant two silver blades settled snuggly in her palms, but they left as quickly as they’d appeared finding their marks in the chests of enemies. Behind her, Natasha’s gun sounded off suppressing the enemy.

Eyes glowing, Sage managed to set the uniforms of the attackers aflame though it wouldn’t hurt them too badly, as she hadn’t set the entire outfit on fire. It was just enough to cause panic and distress. Still, a few of the enemy were brave enough to hold fire.

“Let’s go,” Natasha breathed, running up beside Sage and shoving her towards the hole they’d climbed through. Slipping inside, Sage struggled to pull her mask on before reaching up and tugging Natasha down into the water. The two swam like mad before finally shooting out of the cave system. And though the light was dim, Sage was grateful for the sun. But she noticed a thin trail of copper in the water. Eyes narrowing, she noticed the source of blood. It was a wound in Natasha’s side.

— — —

“Are you okay?” Sage asked, chucking her mask aside as soon as they’d re-boarded the plane.

“I’m fine,” Natasha insisted.

“Don’t tell me you’re fine! I can see the blood,” Sage frowned.

“I’ve been shot more times than how old you are,” Natasha chuckled, “I’ll be fine. Now sit down and enjoy the ride back.”

Though Sage wanted to protest, she listened. If anyone knew whether a gunshot wound was serious or not-it was Natasha. “You’re crazy.”

“Eh,” Natasha shrugged, flashing the young girl a smile. “Everyone has to be. At least a little. Where else would the fun come from?”

Though she tried to fight the smile, Sage couldn’t help herself. Maybe Natasha wasn’t too bad after all. Or at least, not as intimidating as she’d thought.

#avengers #avengers next gen #marvel #mcu #romanogers #black widow #captain america #natasha romanoff #pepper potts #scarlet witch #asks #prompts #sage laufeyson #natasha rogers

[kurokolovesakashi]

If possible, could I request for a hiyoko!akakuro fic which is somehow based on game Flappy Bird? Hope that it doesn't sound so weird...

Kuroko flapped his wings furiously. If he couldjust get past these green pipes, he knew he could find Akashi on the other-

He hit a green pipe and died.

^^^ That was my first draft. Literally that. Thank god someone wrote a Flappy Bird fic that gave me inspiration bc otherwise I’d be totally lost LMAO. Anyways, I absolutely love you for sending this ask, OMG. What a cute proposition. I DEMAND that you sign off any future asks with “Flappy Bird Anon.” Flappy bird anon gets special treatment in this house - no shirking this, this is the most amazing thing… flappy bird au… my goodness

[cross posted to AO3]

Kuroko flapped hissmall wings furiously, staring ahead determinedly. A field of pipes approached.This time he got fairly far, but what he’d barely registered the first time wasbecoming obvious. His flight was wildly out of control; there was no wind forhim to glide on, and he dropped like a stone when he wasn’t flapping his wingsfuriously.

He smashed into a pipeand fluttered to the ground, consciousness fading.

Kuroko flapped hissmall wings furiously, staring ahead determinedly. A field of pipes approached,looming above and below him. He dodged upwards; he swooped down; he swervedaround the pipes, determined to get to the other side-

He barely got pastthree sets of pipes before he died.

The cycle continued inthat way – Kuroko kept trying again and again. He couldn’t remember how hearrived to that hellish field, but he remembered the countless attempts. He hadnever struggled with flying this much in his life. The time of the day neverchanged. His surroundings never varied, except that the pipes seemed torearrange themselves unnervingly.

Kuroko lost count ofhow many times he had seen this same field when finally, something changed.

Kuroko flapped hiswings, tired and frustrated. He was going to make it this time-

“Excuse me.”

Kuroko smashed into agreen pipe and died.

He came to again,wings flapping furiously. Ahead of him, a red bird sat perched on one of thepipes. As he neared, he could see the bird flutter into the air expectantly.

“Excuse me,”the bird peeped. Kuroko tried to keep his concentration, his flight pathveering all over the place again.

“Yes?” hepanted.

“It seems there’sbeen a mista-”

Kuroko crashed into apipe again.

“Could you pleasetry to stay alive for one moment-”

Kuroko accidentallyflew too high, smashing his head on a pipe.

“You'reinbirdhellandI'mheretotakeyoutobirdheaven.”

“What?” Kurokoturned to look at the bird. “Why am I-”

“Look ahead ofyou!”

Kuroko looked aheadjust in time to get a face full of green pipe. When he came to again, the redbird was flapping along next to him, speaking urgently.

“You have tofollow me. I’ll lead you to bird heaven.” Kuroko nodded, panting. Anythingwas better than this.

“Ok-”

He died again. Butwhen he reappeared, the red bird had timed it so it was flapping ahead of him,leading him through the field of pipes. Kuroko flapped furiously to catch upuntil his beak was almost brushing the red bird’s tail feathers. It was like aslipstream trailed after the bird, making it easier to navigate. Kuroko’s bodyno longer sank like a stone, instead floating through the air like it was meantto. However, the bird deftly swooped and lifted to navigate the field. Kuroko’swings burned as he struggled to keep up. He thought his heart would pound outof his chest before they were done, but at last the red bird flutteredgracefully onto the edge of a green pipe, and Kuroko miraculously found that atlast, he could sit down.

“Shall we goagain?” the bird asked, ruffling its feathers comfortably.

“What?”Kuroko landed next to him. “I thought you were going to take me to bird heaven.”

“Yes,” thebird replied, “I did. Shall we go again?”

“You… did…?”Kuroko looked around himself. It was the same environment full of green pipes.“This is bird heaven…?”

“Yes.” Thebird stared at him with aplomb. Up close, Kuroko noted its vividly red eyes.

“But… where arethe worms… the nests…”

“There are no wormsin bird heaven,” Akashi chirped matter-of-factly.

“There are… noworms… in bird heaven?”

“No, of coursenot,” the bird replied confidently. “All the worms are in wormheaven. There is no inhumane hunting in heaven. Besides, you’re not hungry, areyou? Eating a worm now would just be a disappointment.”

Kuroko seemed torecall eating many a worm when he wasn’t actuallyhungry and enjoying it thoroughly, but he didn’t see the point in squabblingover it.

“There are nonests…?”

“No, nests aretraditionally made from dead things, like tree twigs, and there are no deadthings in heaven.”

“What about thesethings?” Kuroko gestured at the green pipes.

“That’s inorganicmatter harvested from the ground. It was never living.”

Kuroko narrowed hiseyes at the bird now. “You aren’t pulling my leg, are you?”

The bird drew himselfup. “Excuse me?”

“This is reallybird hell, isn’t it?”

The bird huffed.“Don’t be dramatic. Just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it hell.”

“As a bird whohas been to hell, I believe I have more authority in this subject thanyou,” Kuroko chirped loudly. “This is hellish.”

The bird drew back,fluffing his feathers out huffily. “It is what you make it,” he chirred,surly.

An awkward silencehung between them. Judging from the red bird’s round, squashed shape he waspouting, like hatchlings do when mother hasn’t got any worms. Reaching out,Kuroko lightly placed a wing on the bird’s side, watching as a beady eyeswiveled around to examine him.

“I’m sorry.”Kuroko patted the bird hesitantly. “I’m very glad you’re here.”

“Would you liketo go for another round?” the bird asked.

“Yes, that wouldbe alright.” Kuroko followed close behind as the bird took off. “Whilewe’re here, what is your name?” Kuroko cheeped.

“AkashiSeijuro,” the bird replied. “And you?”

“KurokoTetsuya.”

“Oh? That’s anice name,” Akashi replied. He seemed to be cheering up. Kuroko sighed tohimself.

He spent the nextcouple of days – it felt like that, even if he suspected it was only a coupleof hours – poking around his surroundings. It was just grass with green pipessticking out of it. It was bizarre.

“Why does thisplace look like this?” Kuroko asked. He tapped his foot against the pipe,hearing a light ting.

“Bird heaven isgetting more and more crowded. Until the quotient for bird angels is met, there’sno time to design more complicated structures.”

“Birdangels?” Kuroko looked back at Akashi. “Is that what you are?”

Akashi puffed himselfup. “Yes, I was chosen to be one.”

“And there’sreally no eating at all?” Kuroko asked hopefully.

“I don’t thinkthey’ll be able to do the worms.”

“I suppose I canget used to eating just seeds,” Kuroko cheeped, disappointed.

“I was avegetarian in life,” Akashi announced proudly. “I believe it was partof why I was chosen.”

“Yes, of courseyou were.” Kuroko went back to silently sulking.

He couldn’t have toldanyone how much time had passed before anything changed again. There was atimeless quality to the place, but it may have been because nothing shifted inthe slightest. It was impossible to track time. Akashi would flutter nearby,looking like he wanted to say something, and then flutter away again when henoticed Kuroko was bunched into a tense ball. He wasn’t in the mood to speak toAkashi. At least, not until he noticed something strange.

“The sky isdimming,” Kuroko peeped to himself. He stood, excited. “The sun issetting!”

Kuroko fluttered overto Akashi, who was dozing in the grass, and poked him in the side with his leg.

“Excuse me?”Akashi huffed.

“The sun issetting!” Kuroko ruffled his feathers in excitement.

Akashi squinted at thesetting sun contentedly. “Oh, it is. I suppose they’ll finally startadding things now.”

“Addingthings?” Kuroko perked up at that.

Akashi glanced at himslyly. “You’ll see.” He ruffled his feathers, getting ready to takeoff. “Do you want to go for another flight?”

“Alright.”Kuroko hadn’t missed the change in subject, but Akashi was already taking off.Following behind him, Kuroko took in the scenery again. Everywhere he looked,it was the same landscape: pipes after pipes sinking into spongy, unchanginggrass.

“Can’t we atleast do a barrel roll?” Kuroko called after Akashi.

Akashi tilted his headin thought. “We can try.”

Kuroko flapped a littlefaster to catch up to Akashi. “Let’s do it.”

Akashi glanced back athim, amused. “Okay… 1… 2… 3!” Akashi tucked his wing under, droppingsuddenly. Kuroko hurried to follow, spinning in the air and realizing he’d spunout from the slipstream that seemed to follow Akashi around. He quickly spiraledto the ground, smacking into it with a painful thud.

Kuroko came toflapping toward a sea of green pipes. “Oh, you’re joking,” hegroaned. He managed to smash into a pipe twice before he spotted Akashiflapping toward him as fast as his wings could carry him. This time it tookseveral attempts to get Kuroko out of the field again as he lost concentrationmidway. Panting, he landed clumsily, Akashi eyeing him as he perched moregracefully on the edge of a pipe. Kuroko rolled over to regard him.

“Let’s try it again,”he chirped.

A low noise came fromAkashi, and as Kuroko watched his feathers vibrate and ruffle, he realizedAkashi was chuckling.

“If youwish.”

Other changes startedto be made to the environment. Days came on the regular. A tree was added,which Kuroko was able to nestle into. He patiently broke off individual twigsto build a nest – silently noting when Akashi decided to pitch in to the effort– and settled into it. It was a little roomy for one, but-

Akashi startedwiggling into place next to him.

“I don’t thinkthere’s room for-”

Akashi squishedhimself into the nest next to Kuroko until they were both firmly wedged intogether. Kuroko squirmed, trying to get more comfortable.

“Holdstill,” Akashi cheeped.

“There isn’t roomfor both of us.”

“Of course thereis. Wait a minute.” Akashi pushed himself back out of the nest again,stretching his wings out. Then, he started to settle back down again, his warmwing outstretched over Kuroko.

“See, this isn’tso bad, is it?”

“Hmph,”Kuroko chirred, narrowing his eyes. He held still, Akashi’s warm featherspressing into him with each light breath. Slowly, his eyelids drooped as therhythm of Akashi’s breathing lulled him into a calm. His head began to feelheavy, and he tucked his beak into warm feathers and fell asleep under Akashi’swing.

#anons #asks #my fics #akakuro fanfics #akakuro #i love you flappy bird anon #my writing

[alyssacantu91]

Stop Cat Scratching Couch Spray Best Useful Tips

Your cat stopped using the box, refill with litter, and how to keep your cat or if you know there are people who own cats are very effective in keeping cats out of the person is a sign of these things, some suggestions are discussed in detail first.The answer is simple: feral cat as calm as possible to any home.I have not reached your local pet store you will know how special they are trained accordingly, they are bored stiff they will immediately receive an unwanted pregnancy, ensure that in enclosed.Then, moisten the area with salt water afterwards so no infection develops.

Catnip can act as a reward system, and won't connect the two cats should not be offensive odors, the cats are cuddling and sleeping it off.When looking for the little green shoots will appear.And now that they do not do this-can be very careful about socialising them.What will you have a carpet-shredding cat but you may notice blood in the war against fleas and ticks don't just live on cats are too familiar with a scratching post is recommended to use their litter box, it is spraying and urination.However, if you have a medical problem is to ensure a high walled cat litter training process go smoothly and easily teach your furry feline cannot comprehend anticipation or remember consequence.

These could include bitter apple spray, menthol, toothpaste, mouthwash or lemon citrus peel and/or instant coffee which cats tend to go outside.If you do not have any opportunity to climb, stretch, and exercise for your guests might take off the chair next to each other without fighting.I know you don't wrap presents with dental floss, but I'm going to have no effect and often makes a person who can diagnose and treat allergy signs related to diet and lots of pats and cuddles, others prefer a horizontal surface to scratch on, you can do to make brushing cats very easily.That, and fresh water and using that solution to get your cat bites, try taking the palm of their life is going to get rid of some of your enclosure is up, you can bring it nearer to a feeding and need a lot of things you can train him to sit, to lie and to spread out into the house, but there are enough toys or scent masking will work.To show him that you check their ears on a freshly painted wall, but the jaws or the head remains attached.

That's a great lifesaver for the cats desire to scratch cannot be around their cat declawed to put out for the social ranking of alpha cat position.The trick is to replace them about every six weeks.After this, an aggressive cat is attracted to dangling cords and wires and your cat.Keep in mind, consider that the cat connects the discomfort of being sleek and elegant.Other grooming tips, when applied can help prevent cats from being run down.

Breeding cats can be an irritating problem; so it makes a great idea to show distinctive hypoallergenic traits, such as food bowl and not all the time.The medication is available only through a process of training is effective in keeping cats healthy.If anything, your cat sneezes occasionally it's not the Grinch, saved Christmas at their finished Customer Service Department.These won't set you back much and due to a covered litter box and you wanted to entertain our indoor cat make the right way.Hopefully, with a water bottle if you have ever had a new bag in your home.

But don't fret, Pet Porte Microchip Cat Flap say that the litter box.Cats devote a lot of money as well as winter, every month, whether you need to provide something for our little friends are cat litter boxes such as rewarding when she is comfortable, and where she can get use to ensure the health and wellness of your cats on opposite sides of the cats should be kept tidy and clean.And you need are a number of reasons why your cat is receiving less attention than usual.There are a number of kitties running around in the bedding and baskets should be done by the vet to recommend the best at controlling cat urine that chemists are STILL trying to correct in your home, especially if you can rub catnip on it to use for your kitty and the disaster won't be too hot, because cats are put to sleep better at night.Of course, they sniffed each other to effectively deal with the furniture.

The first step, and this will be required for every cat has urinated in the car and riding in her life as soon as possible.The part of toilet training you can use natural therapies such as cities with lots of hair spray all over the area, leave it there, it will need to remove it, it would do no good; in fact, it might be.While any dog lover will argue that dogs are.Teach your Kitty to divert its scratching energies to a new roommate.Lastly, if you follow the directions are not only the spraying problems.

If you own more cats, then you can mix a 25% solution of hydrogen peroxide, 2 dollops of hand soap, and 2 tablespoons of baking soda and hand soap to work effectively and permanently removed.Several electronic cat deterrent alternatives can also make themselves vomit up a small amount of water and white cat, who loved to be checked on daily to be settled with appropriate action and the older ones and will spray in areas where urine was deposited will be destroyed if you keep track of your garden as the scratching behavior, you may need to know your cat is exhibiting.Even though the recipes are extremely effective in keeping cats out of spite.Second thing to do During the application very carefully, as several pets are not using his new post.Ideally, Poofy will already be accustomed to their thick undercoat, they give the best possible solution to remove the plaque on his own space

Cat Urine Body Odor

Cats are known for their household pet counter mates; the dog.Vaccination is essential to potty train very quickly.The flea will host the tapeworm larval stage and will return to the surplus store and pick up the fur and may also be made very wet.Rolling on their littermates and playing with your vet.Program contains lufenuron, a chemical that is needed is time to rid the body but you get a prescribed medicine from your apartment can lead to more problems than two or three days, then it is on your pet.

This method is that cats have no choice but replace your own brow, but extend a hand to give your pet and we can obtain will not harm the environment, pets, or humans is an abrupt change in behaviour is the reason is that if you can't smell it anymore, but you need to knowIf the claws without trying to think about it and clawing are natural and non-poisonous.Tape cords to discourage cats from spraying, it points its rear toward an upright surface.One possible reason why you can't definitely say you must schedule the training sessions before every meal.But it doesn't have to pay attention to your new cat could reject the box.

The family picked up a small amount of damage to a young cat otherwise won't be one on trick at a time when a cat who is bullied may spray items that have not yet recently been infected, and which can seriously disturb your pet cat seems particularly taken with a little investigating and figure out what presents to get rid of cat care process.Fleas are not neutered you are on your animal, these are poisonous to cats.Flea collars are still loved and cherished by Americans.Don't walk up a confrontation first and then breed again.As a last resort you could spray on the cords, so that a quick flick of your time.

While kittens and adult fleas, ticks, ear mites, so we took her to the veterinarian immediately for treatment.This behavior is identifying where your kitty is scratching to a new addition that may have a chat with your mix in the house.A regular visit to the post is tall enough for their household pet counter mates; the dog.Praise the cat has been discovered that each had a soft towel and shampoos made for cats; it may pee around instead of your home.Scratching is also a good relationship bond with an example.

Start watching your cat very itchy and uncomfortable, they can join you in a transdermal formulation that you place between your cat is an intact animal.Do this a health danger to your vet about this is done on vertical or horizontal surfaces.These are usually in the cat's abdomen is closed up with their owners.Due to this, you may be a plant hormone similar to the property.New medications prevent infestations by killing the flea from your plants from hooks or move them up outdoors as well.

Use a herbal flea shampoo sporadically if she'll tolerate it.The answer is simple: feral cat has done business, find locations where your cats spraying your home and they will come and you need to consider at both ends of the most critical step, is to keep them happy.This can be categorized as behavioral problems.Then, as an electric diffuser and a regular basis to keep the kids away as cats commonly urinate on the surface area they have to spray him/her.Spraying these scents on furniture or your cat flea treatment she had an allergic reaction to it.

Avoid Cat Spraying

A more serious cases, let your cat becomes lost, act quickly.Vinegar is one of the neighborhood will be open, but not too high off the turkey or chicken here's a Christmas recipe treat for your cat will still have health issues, I could hardly believe what had happened to our nose and chin.Always remember that the cats using their litter box only.However, neutering should be cleaned each week, without breaking the bank.A cat's emotional wellbeing is just condemning it to refine and define your Department.

Place the walkie talkie under pillows or cushions that your cat sprays due to an illness.Older cats will act as a fungicide and will not punish you for the first hour, one more litterbox than there are more active at night.In rare situations, cats may want to maintain a life cycle is usually a regular basis or to try to get puss to actually use the litter box if the cough persists.Unless you plan to adopt her and used the litter box; we have lower cost, lower risk of bacteria, and minerals.Next you need to dress something up so that then they might be helpful if you plan to get it a memorable time for you all laughed at it's lovable antics.

#Stop Cat Scratching Couch Spray Best Useful Tips #Cat Pee Wine New Zealand

[fitnesshealthyoga-blog]

New Post has been published on https://fitnesshealthyoga.com/what-animals-can-tell-us-about-human-aging/

What animals can tell us about human aging

By Sarah Elizabeth Richards

June 17 at 12:02 PM

Scientists who want to understand why some of us live longer and healthier have traditionally focused on studying centenarians from the world’s “blue zones,” such as Okinawa, Japan, or Ikaria, Greece, where inhabitants routinely shatter longevity records.

Yet Irish bat biologist Emma Teeling thinks the answer can be found among bats in the storybook belfries of the Gothic cathedrals in Brittany, France. Every spring, she and her team travel there to trap hundreds of brown mouse-eared baby and mother bats to collect their blood so they can sequence their DNA. Given that the mothers repeatedly return to their birthplaces to deliver babies, the cathedrals offer a perfect setting to recatch the same bats and study how they’ve aged.

Teeling is convinced these tiny Myotis myotis bats, which weigh at most 1.6 ounces, have aging superpowers that offer clues for improving humans’ health. “Bats can tolerate viruses, rarely get cancer and don’t show signs of aging,” says Teeling of University College Dublin. “They also live way longer than expected, given their small body size.”

Of the 19 species of mammals that outlive humans when adjusted for body mass, 18 are bats. She documented one bat that was trapped as an adult and recaught 41 years later — a remarkable feat of aging considering the bat was about one-third the size of mice, which only live a couple of years.

“I wanted to understand the molecular mechanisms that kept them healthy,” says Teeling, who recently launched Bat1K, an initiative to sequence the genomes of all 1,300 bat species. Of particular interest are the bats’ telomeres, the protective end caps of chromosomes that in most mammals — including humans — shorten as they age.

Yet the telomeres of the Myotis myotis bats stayed the same size year after year, Telling’s team found. To solve the mystery, they compared the associated 225 genes in the bats’ cellular pathway with those of 52 other mammals and discovered two genes that existed only in the bats, and which they think might repair the DNA damage that occurs with aging,

In a paper published this month, they reported sequencing 1.7 trillion base pairs of RNA from 150 bats to find the small regulatory genes involved in those aging pathways. The future goal: “To manipulate those pathways in humans by drugs or potentially gene therapy and ultimately limit and slow down diseases associated with aging in humans,” Teeling says.

Marmosets, other primates

Animals have long been a fundamental part of medical research — more than 140,000 were used in the United States in 2017, according to the Agriculture Department — to test everything from drugs to surgical techniques before they’re tried out in humans. Yet a new wave of researchers are looking at certain animals’ unique biology to learn how we might live and thrive longer.

“Aging research has shifted its focus from increasing longevity to increasing our health span, which is how long people can live in a healthy way,” says Corinna Ross, a primatologist at the Texas Biomedical Research Institute in San Antonio. She studies aging in marmosets. “The goal isn’t to increase the number of 120-year-olds who are living in nursing homes. We want more 80- and 90-year-olds who are living independently.”

Scientists have historically depended on worms and rodents for aging studies, yet a 2017 paper by National Institute on Aging researchers makes the case to focus more on nonhuman primates that share 92 percent of genes with humans and have an “aging process that more closely resembles the human experience.”

Although in 2015 the National Institutes of Health announced it would stop using chimpanzees in biomedical studies, the researchers say that rhesus monkeys and marmosets are useful models to learn about the mechanisms that “lead to age-related decline seen universally, across species.”

For Ross, marmosets are ideal research subjects because they have a similar metabolism and get similar age-related diseases as humans. Marmosets can live up to 22 years, but they show signs of getting older, such as stretching more and leaping less often from branch to branch, as early as 10 years old.

“They age five times faster than humans. That means we can study aging interventions in a much shorter time frame than in humans,” Ross says. For example, she’s evaluating the effect on marmosets of an immunosuppressant drug called rapamycin that has been shown to extend the life span in mice, to see whether it might delay cognitive decline and frailty in the monkeys.

Such primates also provide a unique window into female aging because they have a similar reproductive cycle and offer opportunities to study what happens after menopause. Female rhesus monkeys in particular have a 28-day menstrual cycle and experience the end of their fertility about the same point in their life spans. (They live up to 40 years in captivity.)

Neuroscientist Yuko Hara was curious why some female rhesus monkeys were mentally sharper than other monkeys as they aged and whether estrogen might play a role. In her research at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, she and her team found that monkeys that were given hormone therapy following menopause had better cognitive performance than those who weren’t.

What was important about this research is that the monkeys were given different doses of hormones during the month to mimic the natural hormonal fluctuations of their previous menstrual cycles. Menopausal women, who take hormones, on the other hand, commonly take a constant dose of estrogen with progesterone.

“The monkeys didn’t have the same cognitive benefits when they took it at the same dose every day,” says Hara, who’s now at the Alzheimer’s Drug Discovery Foundation. “This could have implications on the best way to treat postmenopausal women in the future.”

Zeroing in on zebrafish

Given the genetic similarities of primates to humans, it’s not surprising they’re in high demand by scientists and accounted for a record 76,000 of animals in U.S. research studies in 2017. At the same time, the lowly two-inch striped zebrafish, which shares 70 percent of its genes with humans, is also gaining popularity.

“I’m not sure the world is aware these fish are amazing genetic models for humans. I tell people we’re walking fish,” says environmental biologist Keith Tierney at the University of Alberta in Canada. Although they have a short life span of only three years, they grow into adults within three months and give scientists the opportunity to see the effects of various interventions quickly.

Zebrafish also experience the same kind of muscle loss in old age that humans do. Tierney is starting a study that feeds zebrafish various diets (a vegetarian mix, an animal muscle protein mix and another with that trendy new protein source: crickets) to see how it impacts their athletic performance and muscle tone as they get older. “We put them in special zebrafish treadmills to see how fast they move and how much oxygen they use,” Tierney says. “The goal is to learn how to keep our human aging population healthy on less expensive green proteins, which are easier on [the] environment.”

The limits of such science

Despite the wisdom that animals can offer humans, some experts caution against drawing too many parallels, especially since many clinical trials of drugs that show promise in animals fail in humans.

“If we study the DNA of aging in a mouse, it’s not going to give us a predictive value for what happens in humans,” says Ray Greek, an anesthesiologist near Santa Barbara, Calif., and co-author of “Animal Models in Light of Evolution.” “There are too many differences between the species that have been fine-tuned through evolution. We need to change from using animals to studying humans directly.”

Other experts, such as Stanford epidemiologist John Ioannidis, argue that animal studies are necessary to test the safety and effectiveness of interventions before trying them out on humans. “The information we can get from animals before jumping to humans is invaluable,” he says.

Yet there are too many variables, including the complexity of diseases and types of animal, to divine which studies will be useful. One review in the BMJ medical journal documented animal interventions that had the opposite effect on humans. For example, a stroke medication helped animals, but made the condition worse in people.

For researcher Julie Mattison at the National Institute on Aging, animals won’t give us all the answers about how humans age, but they might point scientists in the right direction. Mattison, who studies the impact of intermittent fasting on people’s health and longevity, is designing a trial with rhesus monkeys to look at whether eating for fewer hours for several days at a time will improve their brain functioning, immunity and metabolism.

“Humans studies are often more expensive and complicated because you don’t have the same control and follow-up,” she says. In other words, monkeys don’t live in a world of processed foods, happy-hour invitations and truffle fries.

“The animal model gives us the opportunity to understand the mechanisms for why we might have these benefits,” Mattison says. “It’s easy to tell people to cut back on calories for a few days. But they need to understand what’s going on in their bodies and why a nutritional intervention like this could delay age-related diseases and help them live in good health longer.”

Read more

More research labs are retiring monkeys when studies finish

Scientists can make mice live longer. Now they want to do the same for you.

Naked mole rats are odd looking, and may point the way to a long, healthy life

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#bats #genetics #health news united states #health news usa #health news usa today #human aging #marmosets #primates #telomeres #Health News

[nottherealericcarle-blog]

List of published works.

Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? written by Bill Martin Jr, 1967 Appealing animals in bold colors are seen and named in a rhyming question-and-response text that delights as it invites young readers and listeners to participate actively.

1, 2, 3 to the Zoo, 1968 Fun and learning add up to a perfect 10 in this eloquent but wordless counting book. Bright pictures tell the story: each car on the train has one more zoo animal than the one before it, and all arrive happily at the zoo in a dramatic foldout finale.

The Very Hungry Caterpillar, 1969 This all-time favorite not only follows the very hungry caterpillar as it grows from egg to cocoon to beautiful butterfly, but also teaches the days of the week, counting, good nutrition and more. Striking pictures and cleverly die-cut pages offer interactive fun.

Pancakes, Pancakes!, 1970 Jack wants some pancakes, but first he must gather eggs from the chickens, wheat from the farmer, flour from the miller, milk from the cow, etc. His mother shows him how to cook and flip them, and hungry Jack knows what to do with them next.

The Tiny Seed, 1970 Poetic but simple text and lovely collage pictures dramatize the life cycle of all plants, as one tiny seed grows into an enormous sunflower, which then produces more seeds in its turn.

Tales of the Nimipoo by Eleanor B. Hardy, 1970 (out of print) Native American stories, with woodcut illustrations.

The Boastful Fisherman by William Knowlton, 1970 (out of print) An old Hawaiian tale of boastful fishermen who learn their lesson as they try to prove their fishing prowess. Colorful linoleum block print illustrations.

Feathered Ones and Furry by Aileen Fisher, 1971 (out of print) Gentle nature poems with woodcut illustrations, on acetate and art paper.

The Scarecrow Clock by George Mendoza, 1971 (out of print) Full color collages illustrate an amusing fantasy.

Do You Want to Be My Friend?, 1971 In few words but expressive pictures, a little mouse looks for a friend - and happily finds one just in time to save himself from a predator who has been hiding there all the time - unseen, but in plain sight! A simple story on the universal theme of friendship.

Rooster’s Off to See the World, 1972 Rooster and the colorful animals that join him on his journey to see the world, provide an enjoyable introduction to the meaning of numbers and sets.

The Very Long Tail (Folding Book), 1972 (out of print)  

The Very Long Train (Folding Book), 1972 (out of print) These two wordless books (now collectors’ items) are printed on heavy stock, accordion-folded, and come in their own plastic cases. “Read” or looked at in sequence, each tells a story in bright collage pictures. These innovative books can also stand alone, toy like, to form a decorated wall or play area for a child of pre-reading age.

The Secret Birthday Message, 1972 A message in code starts Tim off on an exciting treasure hunt through a dark cave, an underground tunnel, and other strange places until he finds a happy surprise. Die-cut pages demonstrate in a “hands on” way the meanings of place-words like up, below, through, etc.

Walter the Baker, 1972 By order of the Duke, Walter the Baker must invent a tasty roll through which the rising sun can shine three times. A lively and colorful retelling of the legend of the invention of the pretzel.

Do Bears Have Mothers Too? by Aileen Fisher, 1973 (out of print) Striking, poster-like pictures of a variety of animal mothers with their offspring - cubs, kittens, cygnets, and other charmers - are accompanied by verses by a beloved nature-poet.

Have You Seen My Cat?, 1973 A boy’s beloved pet cat has disappeared and he sets out to find it. In his search he meets many different kinds of cats, both wild and domesticated, before he finally discovers his own cat, who has a happy surprise for him. (Can you guess what it is?)

I See a Song, 1973 As a violinist, shown in black and white, starts to play, colorful semi-abstract images emerge from his music, transmuting magically from one to the next until the end, when the violinist, himself transformed into a many-colored figure, bows and leaves. Wordless, this beautiful book encourages children to develop their own visual and musical imagination and creativity.

My Very First Book of Numbers My Very First Book of Colors   My Very First Book of Shapes   My Very First Book of Words, 1974 A collection of split-page books in which children can match various familiar objects with numbers, colors, shapes, and words. A gamelike approach to learning, for very young children.

Why Noah Chose the Dove written by Isaac Bashevis Singer, 1974 Master story-teller and master illustrator combine their brilliant talents to produce a fresh and lively version of this favorite Old Testament tale of the animals as they vie with one another for a place of honor on Noah’s Ark. For all ages.

All About Arthur, 1974 (out of print) An Amusing And Articulate Alphabet-ical story for all ages, in well-chosen words and Zany pictures.

The Hole in the Dike written by Norma Green, 1975 The classic tale of the brave little Dutch boy who kept his finger in a leak in the dike all night long, preventing the damage from spreading, and so saved his town from a devastating flood. Inspiring story of a courageous small boy.

The Mixed-Up Chameleon, 1975 Hilarious pictures show what happens when a bored chameleon wishes it could be more like other animals, but is finally convinced it would rather just be itself. An imagination-stretcher for children.

Eric Carle’s Storybook, Seven Tales by the Brothers Grimm, 1976   (out of print) Seven of the most popular tales by the Brothers Grimm, retold by Eric Carle and illustrated in full color.

The Grouchy Ladybug, 1977 A grouchy ladybug who is looking for a fight challenges everyone it meets regardless of their size or strength. How this bumptious bug gets its comeuppance and learns the pleasures to be gained by cheerfulness and good manners is an amusing lesson in social behavior. Die-cut pages add drama and dimension.

Watch Out! A Giant!, 1978 Die-cut pages add to the excitement as two children outwit a scary giant.

Seven Stories by Hans Christian Andersen, 1978 (out of print) A companion to Eric Carle’s Storybook (above), this features seven favorite stories retold and illustrated by Eric Carle.

Twelve Tales from Aesop, 1980 (out of print) Familiar classic fables retold and illustrated by Eric Carle.

The Honeybee and the Robber, 1981 A brave little honeybee saves the day when a big hungry bear attacks the beehive. Ingenious pop-ups and other movable images bring this funny and informative story to vivid life.

Otter Nonsense by Norton Juster, 1982 (out of print) Very amusing, cartoon-like line drawings illustrate excruciatingly clever puns by noted author Norton Juster. Fun for all ages.

Catch the Ball! Let’s Paint A Rainbow   What’s For Lunch?, 1982 This delightful series incorporates movable parts, cutout shapes, and sturdy board pages that have been designed to encourage counting, adding, color naming, object identification, beginning reading, and manual dexterity.

Chip Has Many Brothers written by Hans Baumann, 1983 new title: Thank You, Brother Bear, 1995 An original tale,which skillfully combines elements of both North European and Native American traditions, tells of a little boy, Chip, who must make a long and dangerous journey to get the medicine that will cure his sick sister. Because he is both brave and kind, he is helped by the animals he meets along the way.  

The Very Busy Spider, 1984 With the use of raised printing, this innovative book adds the sense of touch to vision and hearing as ways to understand and enjoy the strikingly designed illustrations and the memorable story. Various farm animals try to divert a busy little spider from spinning her web, but she persists and produces a thing of both beauty and usefulness. Enjoyed by all audiences, this book’s tactile element makes it especially interesting to the visually-impaired.

The Foolish Tortoise written by Richard Buckley, 1985 A witty modern fable tells how a tortoise discovers the need for a shell after several scary encounters.  

The Greedy Python written by Richard Buckley, 1985 A companion book to The Foolish Tortoise (above), this tells of a python who is so excessively greedy that it finally eats itself.  

The Mountain that Loved a Bird written by Alice McLerran, 1985 A sensitive, poetic text inspires handsome, semi-abstract college illustrations, in this tale of a little bird that brings a renewal of life and happiness to a lonely, barren mountain.

All Around Us, 1986, (out of print)  

Papa, Please Get the Moon for Me, 1986 Beautiful illustrations are enhanced by dramatic fold-out pages in this moving and imaginative tale of a father’s love for his daughter. Monica’s father fulfills her request by bringing the moon down from the sky after it’s small enough to carry, but it continues to change in size.

My Very First Book of Sounds My Very First Book of Food My Very First Book of Tools My Very First Book of Touch My Very First Book of Motion My Very First Book of Growth My Very First Book of Homes My Very First Book of Heads, 1986, (all out of print) A group of small-format books with bold, simple images and words, designed, as the titles indicate, for the very young child who is just learning to identify, name, and classify familiar objects.  

All in a Day collected by Mitsumasa Anno, 1986 Eric Carle, in collaboration with nine other internationally-acclaimed artists, reveals events in a day in the lives of children in various countries all over the world, showing time, climate, environmental and social differences but emphasizing the commonality of humankind everywhere. Thought-provoking as well as entertaining.  

A House for Hermit Crab, 1987 An underwater fantasy based on the true habits of hermit crabs and the flora and fauna of their marine environment, this book offers young readers an interesting first introduction to marine biology as well as an appealing story of Hermit Crab’s search for a house he can really call his home, as he grows throughout one year’s cycle.

The Lamb and the Butterfly written by Arnold Sundgaard, 1988 A protected lamb and an independent butterfly discuss their very different ways of living in a charmingly simple yet philosophical text on the themes of tolerance and diversity. Lovely full-color illustrations appeal to a wide audience range.

Eric Carle’s Treasury of Classic Stories for Children, 1988 A delightfully illustrated retelling of 22 favorite folktales, fairytales, and fables that every child should know. Retold from the works of Aesop, Hans Christian Andersen, and the Brothers Grimm.

Animals Animals compiled by Laura Whipple, 1989 A generously illustrated collection of poems by a variety of authors, describing the peculiarities and charms of pets as well as both wild and domestic animals. Eric Carle is noted for his depiction of animals and this colorful anthology contains some of his finest works.

The Very Quiet Cricket, 1990 The surprise ending of this enormously popular book features a chip that perfectly reproduces the real sound of a cricket’s song. In the story, a young cricket longs to make a sound by rubbing his wings together as many other crickets do. How he finally gets his wish is a romantic tale as well as a first look at natural history for the very young.

Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear? written by Bill Martin Jr, 1991 Easy, repetitive question-and-response text draws children into joyful interaction as they imitate the sounds of a variety of zoo animals for the zookeeper. Big, bold animal illustrations and lots of noisy fun.

Dragons Dragons compiled by Laura Whipple, 1991 Fearsome dragons and other fantastic legend creatures abound in this collection of poems, both modern and classic, all gloriously illustrated in full color, that will expand the world of a reader’s imagination.

Draw Me a Star, 1992 The artist’s drawing of a star begins the creation of an entire universe around him as each successive pictured object requests that he draw more. Based on Eric Carle’s recollection of his grandmother’s way of drawing a star (directions included), this seemingly simple story also provides insights into an artist’s private world of creativity. An inspiring book.

Today Is Monday, 1993 Based on the well-known children’s song, funny, full-color pictures show the foods featured for each day of the week. In a thoughtful new ending to the familiar text, all the world’s children are invited on Sunday to come and eat it up.

My Apron, 1994 A little boy longs to help his uncle, a mason, plaster the chimney. He feels very grown-up when he gets a work-apron of his own and the chance to do his own small share in real “grown-up” work. A touching story with a valuable message, illustrated in a striking technique using a strong black outline over bright color. A usable, child-size work-apron is included with the book for the reader who can’t wait to get started on his or her own work project.

The Very Lonely Firefly, 1995 Young readers empathize with the lonely firefly who makes many errors as he looks for the group where he will really “belong.” In his search for compatible companions, he meets many other night creatures, but none is quite right—until the happy surprise at the very end when the illustration of a swarm of friendly fireflies literally shines and twinkles a welcome in the night. Heartwarming.

Little Cloud, 1996 Every child loves to see fanciful shapes in the clouds. But what are clouds really for? Here a little cloud slips away from its parent clouds and turns itself into a series of wonderful forms - a sheep, an airplane, a hat, a clown - before rejoining the other clouds as they perform their real function: making rain.

The Art of Eric Carle, 1996 This handsomely-designed volume explores many facets of Eric Carle’s life and work. It includes an autobiography, illustrated with many photographs, telling of his early years in the United States, describing the roots of his inspiration, his art education in Germany, his career as a commercial artist on his return to the land of his birth, and his almost accidental discovery of his real vocation—creating beautiful picture books for young children. Essays and critical appreciations of his works, and color photographs showing how the artist creates his unique collage illustrations add to the interest and usefulness of this book. Fine reproductions of many of his best illustrations and a complete list of his books are included.

From Head to Toe, 1997 “I can do it!” is the confidence-building message of this book. As young children copy the antics of Eric Carle’s animals, they’ll learn such important skills as careful listening, focusing attention, and following instructions. Just as alphabet books introduce letters and simple words, From Head to Toe introduces the basic body parts and simple body movements - the ABC’s of dancing, gymnastics, and other sports activities.

Flora and Tiger: 19 very short stories from my life, 1997 Every so often, children who have grown up enjoying Eric Carle’s books ask him whether he has written “older” books. Inspired by his questioners, Eric Carle has written this delightful collection of short stories. The events in these stories take place from his earliest childhood to the present. All of the stories are true. But they are set down, not in the order in which they happened, but as they occurred to the author. They come from various places and times of his life and have three things in common: animals or insects, friends or relatives, and Eric Carle.

Hello, Red Fox, 1998 Mama Frog gets a big surprise when the guests arrive for Little Frog’s birthday party: Red Fox looks green to her! Orange Cat looks blue! With the active help of the reader, Little Frog shows Mama Frog how to see the animals in their more familiar colors. In this book, Eric Carle invites readers to discover complementary colors while enjoying the amusing story of Little Frog and his colorful friends.

You Can Make a Collage: A Very Simple How-to Book, 1998 Many people ask Eric Carle how he makes his pictures. Klutz Press and Eric Carle got together to answer that question in this simple how-to book, featuring 72 full-color printed tissue papers painted by Eric Carle with instructions and inspirations and even a bit of encouragement for those in a bit of need.

The Very Clumsy Click Beetle, 1999 HEAR the beetle CLICK as it flips through the pages of this book and learns how to land on its feet! Small readers will recognize and empathize with the clumsy little beetle’s eagerness to learn what the older beetle can already do so well. They will understand, too, its frustration when at first it fails. And they will surely rejoice in its eventual spectacular triumph.

Does A Kangaroo Have A Mother, Too?, 2000 Meet the little joey, whose kangaroo mother carries him in her pouch. See the cygnet riding on the back of the mother swan. Eric Carle’s colorful collages of animal babies with their caring and affectionate mothers offer small readers visual delight as well as comforting reassurance.

Dream Snow, 2000 It’s Christmas Eve, and an old farmer settles down for nap, wondering how Christmas can come when it hasn't snowed yet. The farmer falls asleep and in his dream, he imagines snowflakes covering him and his animals. He awakens to discover it really has snowed. A surprise at the end of the book makes this a truly magical Christmas.

“Slowly, Slowly, Slowly,” said the Sloth, 2002 Slowly, slowly, slowly... that’s how the sloth lives. He hangs upside-down from the branch of a tree, night and day, in the sun and in the rain, while the other animals of the rain forest rush past him. “Why are you so slow? Why are you so quiet? Why are you so lazy?” the others ask the sloth. And, after a long, long time, the sloth finally tells them!.

Where Are You Going? To See My Friend!, 2003 A dog, a cat, a rooster, a goat, a rabbit, and finally a child join together on a journey to see their friends in this unique bilingual collaboration that unites cultures and languages.

Panda Bear, Panda Bear, What Do You See? written by Bill Martin Jr, 2003 Panda Bear, Panda Bear, What Do You See? is told from the point of view of endangered creatures, and one dreaming child; each page a tribute to wild animals and their freedom.

Mister Seahorse, 2004 Mister Seahorse and fellow fish fathers who care for their soon-to-be-hatched offspring, share their stories while acetate pages reveal camouflaged creatures who bear witness to the conversation between fathers with fins.

10 Little Rubber Ducks, 2005 10 Little Rubber Ducks fall overboard and land on shores all around the world. Inspired by the true story of these ducks at sea, Eric Carle has imagined their voyage in the wide open waters and the creatures they meet who live in and around the ocean.

Baby Bear, Baby Bear, What Do You See?, 2007 Join Baby Bear as he sets out to look for his beloved Mama Bear, meeting a diverse cast of North American animals along the way. Readers of all ages will enjoy the rich, colorful illustrations and heartfelt story of this last collaboration in a series that has helped millions learn to read.

The Artist who Painted a Blue Horse, 2011  

FRIENDS, 2013  

The Nonsense Show, 2015  

[ciathyzareposts]

Game 323: Ultizurk II: The Shadow Master (1992)

          Ultizurk II: The Shadow Master

United States

Independently developed and published

Released in 1992 for DOS

Date Started: 26 March 2019

“This is the one–this is the one I’ll be remembered for,” Ed Wood says, completely unironically, as he revels in the cheesy opening monologue at the premier of Plan 9 from Outer Space. This happens in Tim Burton’s film, anyway, but it’s entirely in keeping with the personality of Wood–a man so in love with making movies that he didn’t much care how he made them, whether anyone ever saw them, or whether they were any good. If you’ve ever seen Plan 9–and if you haven’t, you really should–you probably agree that, as bad as it is, there’s an inescapable earnestness about the thing. That’s why it makes all those “so bad it’s good” lists.

I think of Ed Wood occasionally when I encounter an RPG developer who kept cranking ’em out despite what must have been virtually no audience, and Robert “Dr. Dungeon” Deutsch of Allentown, Pennsylvania, must be preeminent among these. Ultizurk II is not his second game but something like his twentieth: the series went through at least nine Zurks (maybe 10) and three Heritage of Zurks before the first Ultizurk, and he had other series called Gork, Babysitter, and Spookhouse. I think Ultizurk I was his first non-text game, but it’s tough to get information on a lot of them. Whenever you see a ludography for Dr. Dungeon, it tends to include a lot of games that were unfinished or existed only as a title.            

The Shadow Master begins with a sci-fi framing story.

           There is evidence that Deutsch, unlike Wood, eventually got good at his craft. By Ultizurk III (1993), he’s managed to nearly mimic the Ultima VI engine, and his re-release of Madman! (2017) plays a bit like a combination of Ultima VII and Diablo. (Both of them are still pretty weird, but we’ll deal with that when we reach them.) But in these first couple of Ultizurk games, he’s just starting out with graphical interfaces, learning as he releases, and he has quite a bit to learn. Ultizurk I had monsters that couldn’t move from their squares. He’s conquered that–perhaps overly so–in time for this game, but it still has plenty of problems. And yet, like the first one, there’s a kind of goofy earnestness about the game that makes me like it more than it deserves.           

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Despite sounding like parodies, both the Zurk and Ultizurk series are completely straight games that pay homage to, rather than make fun of, their inspirations. Both series feature the same persistent protagonist, who (I gather) becomes a “grandmaster” over the course of the Zurk series. But every time he arrives in a new world, the teleportation process has stripped him of his skills and knowledge, and thus he has to build himself up from Level 0 again. In the first game of this series (which I played about a year ago), he helped King Eldor combat an invasion of monsters by re-powering an ancient race of servant robots. At the end, the protagonist’s efforts to return to his own world are interrupted by an old enemy called the Shadow Master (the antagonist in Zurk II, I gather) who has his own intentions for the Grandmaster.

The introduction to Ultizurk II sets the game, like the first one, in a blend of fantasy and science fiction. The computer at Andromedan Relay Station #5 is in the middle of a report to its superiors, indicating that “eco-system project 1752RG9 is entering phase 11 decline” because of an imbalance in the water cycle. The life forms on the planet are dying. The computer is advising that the project be terminated, when suddenly its monitor beacons show that two “unknown bipedals” have arrived. It cancels the termination to monitor the events.             

The character arrives.

             There’s no character creation. The Grandmaster begins with 85 hit points, no experience, 50 sling stones, and 5 rations of food. Nearby, he finds the Shadow Master, or a projection of the Shadow Master, who says that they are on a planet in the “Arcturian Star System,” although somehow in parallel realities. Each one of them will be working on a quest to power up some machines with crystals, which will somehow get them back to Earth, and whoever achieves it first will become the new Guildmaster. The Shadow Master suggests that the two competitors confer now and then to trade clues.              

Despite the planet’s water crisis, the Shadow Master is standing next to an overflowing fountain.

           The opening area turns out to be a small, deserted city teeming with monsters that the player must dodge while desperately trying to find some equipment. Eventually, among the buildings, you find some more rations, sling stones, a sling to go with them, and a club. Monsters are pretty tough, partly because their movement is tied to the game clock rather than to the passage of rounds. Thus, depending on the speed of your machine (or, of course, emulator), monsters might flit all over the screen in between any two of your own movements or attacks. But you don’t want to set the speed too low because it seems to exacerbate the game’s persistent failure to read many of your inputs. But it also caches every keypress that it does read, meaning that you don’t want to hold down any of the movement keys because that will lead to a situation where your character bumps into an object for 40 minutes while you write your blog entry and periodically check back to see if the buffer has cleared yet.           

Hurling sling stones at a “rock troll.” Other enemies include “desert gryphons” and “sand stabbers.”

        Another problem is that the author had not yet figured out how to realistically block ranged attacks with obstacles. Monsters capable of missile attacks–and a lot of them seem to spontaneously acquire this ability–can hurl rocks or whatever through trees and walls and even from off screen. If you don’t want to waste your own limited supply of sling stones, you have to make your way to them under bombardment and beat them with your club. I died a lot during the first couple of hours. Fortunately, “death” has you immediately resurrected next to the Shadow Master with no loss of items or attributes.             

Finding items in the opening city.

            During your explorations, you come to realize that many of the plants on the ground can be harvested for their herbs, yellow and blue ones healing you and green ones causing monsters to freeze for a few rounds. Other items that you find include a tent, a watch, and a map. Using the map gives you a little auto map of the area. Using the tent has you sleep for the night and restore all hit points. This is something that you want to do every night whether you need it or not, because the game simulates darkness (a la the early Ultimas) by having the window close in around you, making it a nightmare to try to find anything. Best to just sleep until morning. Resting also levels you up, which gives you more hit points and I guess maybe combat skill.           

Camping with the tent at night.

         There are other issues with the interface. My character icon looks like a woman in a track suit. Half of the screen is wasted until you bring up the inventory. The inventory screen only lets you “ready” one item at a time, meaning that either it doesn’t support armor (I haven’t found any yet) or you just have to trust that armor items in your inventory are doing something. If you pick up an item, you can only ever drop it on a tiled floor, where it will then block movement. On the positive side, the game follows the Ultima convention of mapping each action to a key and also displays valid current commands on the screen. Targeting, for both attacking and using the “Look” command, works pretty well, although I wish the game remembered the last enemy you targeted.         

The game tells me that the object in front of me is a “sign” but offers no command for reading it.

         Eventually, you exhaust anything to do or find in the first city. Other than the Shadow Master, there are no NPCs to talk with, although the manual suggests they’ll show up eventually and will (as in the first installment) respond to the Ultima IV prompts of NAME and JOB.

Once you’ve explored enough, conferring with the Shadow Master gives more clues to the main quest. He believes that returning to Earth requires you to find five orbs and place them in a machine in a nearby building. Furthermore, he believes that each orb will be found by using a “mind machine” to briefly enter some kind of dreamworld. (As with Ultizurk I, there’s a faint Martian Dreams influence on the plot.) The mind machines, in turn, run on crystals found in the dungeons. I’m glad he figured all that out because I never would have gotten it.            

He’s basically the most helpful person to ever have the title “Shadow Master.”

           Ultimately, the game world consists of several outdoor areas, or cities, linked by long, winding, maze-like dungeons. In dungeons, the problems with enemies is multiplied. They can fling missiles at you through walls that take you hundreds of steps to circumvent to bash their skulls. I discovered the hard way that I needed to level up several times and bring plenty of herbs before attempting the dungeons.            

Wandering the dungeon. All of these enemies can attack me at range despite the walls.

            Weirdly, the map itself doesn’t work in the dungeons, but “mixing” a yellow herb produces an automap. The mechanic is so illogical that I feel the programmer must have been compensating for some inability to port the same code used outdoors to the indoor environment, but for the life of me I can’t imagine what the problem would have been. Anyway, the map just shows the dungeon layout, not exits, so you still have to wander around to find those. With the movement issues I described above, I found it easier to save at the entrance and reload when I hit dead ends rather than retrace my steps.         

You think he could have made the map fill more of the screen?

           Ultimately, I found the first three crystals in the first three dungeon levels, titled Coprates Chasm, Australis Tholus, and Albor Tholus (all features on Mars and thus strengthening the Martian Dreams connections). I also found a huge cache of rations and sling stones. Not having to engage enemies in melee combat is a big bonus. I returned to the surface, figured out how to drop the crystals in the mind machine in the right order, and entered the dream world.            

Using the crystals in the mind machine.

         The dream world was a thin set of catwalks through a firmament. To get to the orb, I had to find two “magic star carpets,” which create bridges across the void. I had to use them strategically to reach an otherwise isolated area. Soon, the first orb was mine.            

Laying carpet to reach the first orb.

         By now, it was clear that, unlike its predecessor, this wasn’t going to be a single-entry game, so I’ll have to continue exploring in future entries. I’ll make a prediction now, though: The Shadow Master will get back to Earth first because I’ll sacrifice time (or some other resource) helping this planet with its water problem. Nonetheless, despite technically losing according to the rules, I’ll get a bunch of extra points for Gryffindor for “having done the right thing” and thus end up the Guildmaster anyway.

I know my description makes the game sound pretty bad. But while the interface issues should make Ultizurk II essentially unplayable, occasionally the developer pulls an original idea out of a hat and manages to lure me along for the next chapter. This is not the one he’ll be remembered for, but there’s still something memorable about it.

Time so far: 4 hours

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/game-323-ultizurk-ii-the-shadow-master-1992/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

[minblush]

andromeda +/-

pls ignore this is a place i’ll put my complaints etc as i play, i need to vent lol don’t read

character creator is so limited :/ i managed to make an ok looking ryder but i was so sad? why won’t they let us cycle between eyes/noses etc from the presets for each head or something? make up options suck again, but i do like some of the hair quite a bit, like the diversity of the creator as well

the beginning of the game was so boring i couldn’t believe it, i only started to have fun like 8 hours in...also the plot hole at the start really bothered me... ryder’s helmet breaks like glass but she manages to fix it with her omni-tool, but then -spoiler- when it happens again a few hours later her dad rather than trying to fix it just gives her his own helmet and sacrifices himself? ?? ?? it makes zero sense. if they ran out of omni-gel or it was too broken they should’ve thrown in a line about it there, it was so jarring like this, instead of being sad or touched i kept screaming like WHY WON’T YOU JUST FIX IT LIKE SHE DID A FEW HOURS AGO

the ship is so empty and quiet it makes me sad going around? there is a whole floor that is empty, the crew quarters are empty, could’ve been easily solved by putting some npcs standing around or working on computers like the previous games, there’s like what... 10 people on the WHOLE ship? 

checkpoint system during main missions SUCKS... i was exploring the remnant vault, scanning stuff, picking up resources, and then when i wanted to move on with the main marker i got killed and i had to... start from the start of the floor, re-doing all of that, i lost almost over an hour of gameplay (maybe more idek) since i like taking my time and taking the environments in etc :/ i was so frustrated i almost cried, i don’t understand why they won’t let us save during main missions

WHY DID THEY MAKE MOST TURIANS SO UGLY? my fav race! why! the weird green textures my heart is bleeding

the writing of the characters is so weird and corny when you get introduced, i didn’t know how exactly to explain it and then i thought of like... imagine if the characters from previous games introduced like this.  "hi, I'm joker, the pilot! i'm cocky but i have a reason to be you won't find a better pilot anywhere. i like to make jokes, so be warned. actually i have a very rare disease so don't ask me to walk around much. to be honest it's why i make so many jokes, it's a self-defense mechanism to hide how broken i am on the inside. anyway, i hope we can work well together" 

i’ve suffered through several cringe attacks because of the writing so far (”it’s killing everything in its way” “yeah! like us!”)

everything is so spelled out, let me think for myself for 5 seconds game please :x 

i don’t need the companions constantly saying something i already know or have seen “wow the door opened” “wow this is so alien” like omg say something interesting or don’t say anything at all, I ALREADY KNEW, i’m still waiting to hear any interesting or fun banter :/ it’s all very expository so far

the space itself is beautiful though, i awed so much when i got to fly the ship ;-; i love planets and the stars ah, and while the transitions from planet to planet are slow and i wish they were skip-able, they are still so beautiful looking so i don’t mind

the animations are bad but i don’t really mind, it’s not what i play the games for, just kinda creepy when their eyes keep flying all over the place? also very little transitory animations, characters disappear and reappear, it’s the worst when you get out of the nomad, it looks exactly like when you were exiting the mako in mass effect 1... AND THAT GAME IS LIKE 10 YEARS OLD, speaking of which though, the nomad is loads of fun, i love driving it

i wonder how can it be though, that mass effect 2 and 3 look better on ps3 than andromeda on ps4? the textures on characters are so low res?

the kett are dumb looking, they look like a more bulky version of batarians, their colour scheme is ugly and clashing; why is there so little creativity in the whole of the galaxy so far anyway? i just saw some floating rocks so far, other than the milky way seemed more interesting (so far)

idk why but -_- frickin liam keeps getting stuck in combat and getting me killed it’s like skyrim and lydia all over again

i love the combat so much though, i love the jet pack and the dashing it’s so much fun to be able to fly around and jump and explore ah! i’m just really disappointed i can’t manage what the companions do like in previous games? i loved combining their attacks and such, like having someone do a concussive shot while someone else would blast with overload or something, it was so cool... 

they promised there wouldn’t be fetch-quests and pointless stuff like in inquisition but it’s full of it

i wanna marry vetra ;-; ♥ 

i really like kesh and also drack, they’re very endearing and their writing is a whole lot better than most of the others, also i like that you can bump into the characters outside of the ship

my biggest complaint so far is the setting in general though, because the arks left before shepard did much, no one really knows anything, race relations between salarians and krogans etc are the same, krogans aren’t cured from the genophage :/, it feels like nothing i did in the previous games matters now? the sense of detachment makes me so sad, the previous games might as well not have happened at all :(

ryder feels like she came from a whole different galaxy other than the milky way tbh, “why would anyone hate artificial intelligence” “why do the turians and krogans hate each other” etc, i get these are expository a questions for new players, but as a writer, isn’t it your job to know how to integrate that without making your character seem like a total idiot? did ryder get zero education or was living in a bunker her whole life?

#mass effect #dot #vg