#BA and her condition goes ignored

[reel-fear]

Some non canon leaked S4 concepts: BA might've been part of why Blitzwing is a triple changer via surgery/experiments he likely consented to knowing the risks. The fandom: omg shes such a horrible bitch, I cant believe that shes such an abuser

The actual show: here's Blitzwing and BA interacting, nothing happens except Blitzwing says "ew ur gross and techno-organic/disabled such a bitch" and BA replies it "stick it up ur ass" The fandom: Blitzwing is such a bean did nothing wrong <3<3 he simply didn't mean it when he said BA's scars are gross <3<3<3 such a smol bean boy BA is such a horrible bitch

PURE sexism and horrible bigoted bias.

[daisylovesatla]

very rough draft of the start of a zutara fan fic

AU where Aang and Katara don't end up together cuz it doesn't make sense that it would be written that way but anyway, I wrote some pages about what would happen if Zuko's lightning bolt actually hurt him a lot more than it did...my ADHD brain can't remember where I saw that AU from but when I do I will tag u I promise...anyway it's Katara by herself at the palace healing Zuko and then the rest of the Gaang arrives from the Earth Kingdom, where Aang and Suki and Toph and Sokka were all fighting against the fire nation's ambush, cuz it would take more than like. a week probably to get to the same place as Zuko and Katara. Anyway I hope it makes sense I'm tentatively posting the first chapter in case everyone hates it but it's only 3,000 words I think.

(eta the ao3 link)

Book 4: Reconstruction...:)

Book 4: Reconstruction

I need some fresh air. She sighs to herself, rubbing her sore wrists and rising up from the cushion she was kneeling on. Keeping her eyes closed, afraid of the emotions that would flood through her if she snuck a glance at him while she wasn’t intensely focused on his injury, pouring all of her energy into that one spot, both emotional and physical.

It has been two weeks since the comet, and she has been doing all that she can to support him, to try to do something that could in some small way, return the favor for his sacrifice. As soon as her back is to Zuko’s bed, she opens her eyes, and is confronted suddenly with the bigness of this place. The tall, melodramatic metal doors that weigh way more than they need to, the beds with far away canopies rustling above them. Just the mattresses here are the size of her entire igloo back home, and even though it isn’t the first time she has been surrounded by superfluous opulence like this, something about this place feels particularly daunting.

She can sense his pulse, slow, but steady, consistent, as his blood flows through his veins and with it, water. Even when it isn’t a full moon, Katara is able to feel the water in everything, including the people she is surrounded by. She has yet to decide if it is an advantage, or only makes it harder to navigate through the world.

Her legs feel like lead, and she struggles to ignore the dryness of the room, the fires lit in their mantles 10 feet above them sucking all of the moisture out of this space, the lack of water, of that familiarity, making her feel like she is choking, as her breaths become more and more shallow and her heart continues to beat faster and faster, only worsening whenever the memories of that fateful, final Agni Kai come rushing back to her, making everything feel so much worse.

No, I can’t think about that right now. Katara closes her eyes again, and takes a deep breath, trying to replicate the breathing technique Aang taught her the first time he saw her meditating. In through my nose, out through my mouth, that’s what Aang taught me. She tries not to think much more about Aang than this. Too much has happened. Aang is expecting an answer, she is sure of it, an answer she can’t give him. Yet there is a hope swimming just below the surface in her, that this now or never attitude leading up to his battle with Ozai would no longer be there in him, that fire gone, the flames put out.

I have no answer right now, she decides, as she finally gets her legs to take the final steps towards the door. Yearning for a sense of coolness against her increasingly warm skin, she presses her hand against the door, and lets it ground her as she pushes it open, nearly jumping as it creaks and struggles to with each inch that she can shove it open. What is it with rich people and big doors? She chuckles to herself as she remembers storming Ba Sing Se, when things were so simple and yet not simple at all.

Running her fingers through her thick, curly hair trailing down her back, she sucks in all the air that she can in this hallway with much better circulation, finding it easier to keep her balance and move forward. The war may be over, but she is anticipating many battles are going to be fought in the coming weeks and months, battles over territory, freedom, the right to the throne. She has to heal Zuko so that he can advocate for himself, she determines, as she envisions Ozai’s loyal courtiers’ unfounded complaints with Zuko taking the role of the fire lord. She worries for him and she worries for herself. A water tribe peasant, Azula called her during the Agni Kai. Despite her strong demeanor, her ability to inspire other people to recognize their own worth, it is still difficult for Katara not to internalize this when she knows she is surrounded by enemies, no matter how much Iroh tries to reassure her and the rest of them that this is not the case. She has spent far too much time being attacked and assaulted by members of the Fire Nation to naively assume that with a change in power, a change in attitude amongst the people will quickly follow.

Many citizens are still loyal to Ozai. They still see her and Sokka and the rest of the Water Tribe as peasants, as savages with too much power. They are still afraid of waterbenders altogether, as gossip and rumors spread around the nation about Hama in the weeks following her imprisonment. She feels a pang of guilt for how it turned out with her. A Southern Waterbender, alive after all these years that she feared she was the last one, the only one, the one expected to carry on this legacy all by herself. Finally, somebody who understood her struggles, intrinsically, who had fought for so many years to be free, suddenly imprisoned again by people from the same nation that had stolen her away from her home, because she could not let go of her anger against them, like Jet.

She does not want to think about the revenge Hama tried to take on that people. How misdirected it was. How she never wants to be as full of rage and anger and resentment that she would start to do something as heinous.

It doesn’t change that that is how many people from the Fire Nation see her people. She can’t blame Hama for that, it would be wrong to expect any one person to be a representative for their tribe, their culture. “This is all so complicated,” Katara mutters under her breath, as she struggles to breathe, to let herself be free of these thoughts. Her anger, always there, ready to burst out from inside her in the form of an uncontrollable explosion.

Katara barely notices how far she has walked from Zuko’s room, until suddenly she hears a familiar voice call out to her. Startled, she looks up from the floor where she was mindlessly staring as she strolled and sees Sokka and Suki waving over to her from the other side of the hallway.

“Sokka! Suki!” She cries out, as she runs over to them, as fast as she can. “You’re here! You made it!” As she gets closer, she notices the crutch Sokka is leaning on, and her stomach feels like it is full of sand. “Are you okay? I can try my best to heal it, but I’m pretty worn out right now…” She glances at his bandages on his leg and starts to think up the best method for healing him after so much time has passed since his injury. “I’m sorry, I wish I had gotten to it sooner…” Katara begins, but she is interrupted by Sokka,

“Hey, it’s okay! For most of my life you haven’t been able to heal me when I get hurt, so it’s not like I’m not used to being in pain,” he teases, and then lets go of Suki who he was leaning on, as he goes to embrace Katara.

She can feel hot, somehow still dry, tears flow down her cheeks as she relaxes into this hug. While news had spread quickly from the Earth Kingdom to the Fire Nation about Toph, Sokka, Suki, and Aang’s victory in Ba Sing Se, her stomach had been twisted with worry the entire time they had been apart. A lot of it could have been hearsay, and until she got to hug her friends and brother in person, she could not let go of her unease. Hell, the talk of Caldera City was Zuko’s honorable triumph, but nobody who knew the truth of the aftermath of this battle had let it slip to the public that Zuko was in critical condition right now. Only Iroh, Katara, and some of the servants who were helping take care of meals and other menial tasks knew. It would throw this world into even more chaos if every day citizens knew there was a chance that Zuko wouldn’t…no. I don’t want to think about that future. I simply can’t. The guilt overwhelms Katara, but she pushes these negative feelings away and struggles to focus on the present. Sokka’s voice brings her back to the present, as she can feel his quickening heartbeat against her chest, and his tears dripping onto her robe. “We were so worried about you and Zuko, Katara. I’m glad you’re okay.”

She stammers, as she realizes it’s time to break the news to a few more people, wishing Sokka hadn’t let go of her as quickly as he did. She desperately missed her brother, and they hadn’t ever been apart for this long before, in all their side journeys in the past year, and hunting trips prior to that.

“Yes, I’m ok,” she lets the words spill out of her before she has a chance to choke on them, “But, well. Zuko...Zuko got really hurt.” Immediately, she can see the blood drain from both of their faces, and she grabs their hands, trying to comfort them despite not having the ability to comfort herself. “I’m healing him, but it’s still going to take a while. We have to just wait for him to recover.” She smiles, weakly, and fears it looks more like a grimace. “I’m glad you guys are back, though. It’s just been me and Iroh watching over him since the fight.”

Suki squeezes her hand, and the sadness and sympathy mix together in the look she gives Katara. “I’m really glad you’re okay. We’re here for you guys,” her smile sweet and boring into the deepest parts of Katara as she finishes speaking. Katara is taken aback, as her skin crawls with the thought that Suki understands, already, what happened at that Agni Kai, even if she doesn’t know the full details.

Sokka furrows his brows, and she can feel his warmth and fear as he nods in agreement with Suki. “Toph and Aang are in the courtyard with the Turtleduck pond, can we go see him with them?”

Of course, a practical response from Sokka. She knows better though. He is close with Zuko in different ways than Katara, but this was crushing for him too. She tries her best to smile reassuringly, as she fights back tears that are full of frustration and fear and anger and a deep, hollow grief that she hasn’t felt since Aang was struck by Azula, what feels like years ago but was only 4 months ago. In these four months, so much has changed, including feeling ready to face Aang. That kiss, just up and leaving, wasn’t ok and Katara wasn’t going to accept any excuses about it, just apologies.

He left everyone to go off on their separate missions, never really knowing whether or not those separation missions would be worth the danger they were putting themselves in, and that blind faith she was able to put in him when they first met was starting to get really old.

“So?” Suki chimes, pulling Katara out of her own thoughts.

“Oh, sorry,” she blushes, “I spaced out for a second. Um…” she tries to come up with an excuse for her sudden zoning out. “I’m worried about leaving Zuko by himself for a long time, and it’s been about twenty minutes so, I better get back, but stop by with everyone, sure.”

Suki gives her a quick squeeze of the arm, as they both walk off a few minutes after listening to Katara’s directions. Her chest feels tight, and she turns in the opposite direction as them, going back to Zuko.

They still don’t know how he got hurt. She doesn’t want to tell them, after so many instances of Toph teasing her about Jet and Haru, and well, she doesn’t want to hear it. Especially when Toph can feel her heartbeat. That damn seismic sense, she chuckles to herself, trying to let herself joke around a little bit.

Suddenly she is back in front of the door. She tries to shake off her anxieties and pulls the door open, the cold handle no longer soothing her but sending chills down her spine. This time, she keeps her eyes open as she walks back in, and all of the feelings she had been able to push down while talking to Sokka and Suki started to bubble up to the surface again, her cheeks feeling hot and dry, too dry. She wished she could bend a cloud of mist around herself, but knew that all of her energy had to be devoted to healing Zuko.

His familiar heartbeat suddenly found itself back on her radar, and she tried to hold back her tears and desire to just collapse and give up. But it was her duty to heal him. Her duty to heal him, the Fire Lord, just like it was hers to heal the Avatar. There was no way that any Northern healer would be willing to come down to heal the Fire Lord, nor would they be able to get there in time. So even if there were people more skilled, more capable, she knew that in order to maintain balance, it was her job to keep his heart beating.

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Charlie Pace x Reader- His Return

The anxiety began to build up in you more and more as you walked through each and every tree on this island. You'd been out for hours. Jack and Kate decided to go out and look for Charlie and Claire after they'd been taken by Ethan and you had instantaneously said that you'd go too. To say that both yourself and Charlie had grown close since landing on this island was a complete understatement. In the few weeks that you had been stranded, the two of you became inseparable, instantly bonding over your loves of music. You were astounded when you found out that he was part of Drive Shaft because they were your favourite band. You slowly started to like him more and more. Once he found his guitar, with the help of Locke of course, and he started singing, you found yourself falling for the man. To many people it may sound ridiculous to fall for someone in such a short amount of time but, due to the conditions you were all in, you spent every minute of every day with Charlie. Others on the island just saw him as the weird British junkie but you never let other people's opinions effect yours. Both Charlie and Claire had been gone for a while now and you could feel your legs beginning to burn from walking so far.

"Maybe we should head back for the night and start fresh in the morning." Kate suggested, sitting down on a nearby rock and rubbing at her calf muscles. Jack nodded his head in agreement but you refused to give up.

"No! We can't stop now. We must be so close. Please guys. 10 more minutes and then we can go back. Please?" You pleaded, tears pooling in your eyes at the thought of just giving up.

"Y/N, look, it's getting late. Even if we leave now, it'll be dark when we get ba-"

"Please Jack" You pleaded once more. Kate seemed more sympathetic and agreed to go with you even if Jack wouldn't. Of course Jack wouldn't allow that so he reluctantly agreed to walk for 10 more minutes. You walked further and further in until you heard a strange noise. You stopped dead in your tracks. "You guys hear that?" You questioned. It sounded like something slightly swinging. You all looked at each other before sprinting towards the sound. What you saw made your heart shatter.

"Oh my God, Charlie" Jack said, running towards the figure hanging off a branch. You ran even faster, climbing up the tree with a knife in your hand whilst Jack tried desperately to hold Charlie up. You cut away at the vines holding him up and practically jumped out of the tree towards him. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you knelt down beside him. Jack put his face by Charlie's. "He's not breathing" He stated. He began performing CPR on him but all of your hope began to deteriorate away as his actions had no response.

"Jack just stop. There's nothing you can do. He's gone" Kate's final two words hit you like a bullet. You grasped hold of Charlie's hand, holding it as tight and as close to you as possible. Jack ignored Kate and carried on going."

"Come on Charlie. Wake up. Breathe." You said, kissing his knuckles and hugging his arm. Tears carried on falling down your cheeks. Jack began to hit him harder, constantly saying words of encouragement to try and wake him.

"Jack. Stop. He's not coming back. There's nothing you can do" Kate said, pulling Jack away from Charlie. Jack was crying too. He sobbed onto Kate's shoulder whilst you cried. You sat Charlie up, pulling him as close to you as possible and just carried on crying.

"Come on Charlie. Please. You can't leave me. I love you." You whispered, trying one final time to wake him up. Jack came back and took him off of you, laying him back down and hitting him on the chest once again. Suddenly, Charlie took in a sharp breath and started coughing. A huge smile broke out on your face as his eyes opened. You wrapped your arms around him as his breathing became more steady and even. "Thank God you're alive" You said, kissing his temple, not caring about the mud that covered his face. After a few moments to let him get his breath back, the three of you helped carry him back to the camp.

////////////////////////////////////////// Time Skip //////////////////////////////////////////

You all got back to the camp, numerous people asking questions about Charlie but you left them to be answered by Jack and Kate as you lead Charlie over to a sleeping bag to sit down.

"You scared the shit out of me" You laughed, sitting down beside him on the sleeping bag and resting your head on your knees. "I really didn't think that you were going to make it" You said, the smile on your face dropping as you thought about the fact that you almost lost him today.

"Hey, I don't want any of that frowning crap around me. I'm fine" He said, attempting to reassure you as he shuffled closer and wrapped his arm around you.

"I'm sorry but it just scares me y'know? We manage to survive this huge bloody plane crash and then you almost get killed by somebody on the island. It just makes me think that nowhere is safe anymore. I don't know what I would have done if you had died, Charlie. You would have gone and I never would have been able to tell you that-" You cut yourself off, realising that you had said too much. You couldn't let Charlie know that you liked him. You'd only known each other for a couple of weeks so there was no way that he felt the same. You looked down at your lap. "You should get some rest." You muttered, about to stand up to leave. His hand grabbed your wrist.

"Wouldn't be able to tell me what?" He asked, pulling you back beside him. You just shook your head, adamant that you wasn't going to tell him. "Come on, Y/N. You want me to get some rest but you equally know that I won't be able to sleep unless you tell me. It'll bug me all night." He smiled, staring into your eyes. His smile was your weakness. You always gave into it. Who wouldn't?

"Well, here it goes... I like you Charlie. Have done for a while now. Since I met you once we crashed here, I felt a connection between us. You're literally the nicest person on this island. You're smart... Well... Most of the time," You chuckled, "Funny and extremely talented. Not to mention that you're bloody gorgeous. Look, I know it probably sounds stupid since we've only known each other fo-" Your sentence was cut off as you felt a hand on your cheek and his lips pressed on your own. You melted into the kiss, softly wrapping your arms around his neck to ensure that you didn't hurt the bruising that was beginning to form there. After running out of breath, you both pulled out.

"Well. That was both pleasant and unexpected" He laughed, pulling you in for a side hug. You rested your head on his shoulder and laughed with him.

"Indeed but you do need to get some rest Charlie." You said, yawning yourself.

"So do you. I've been told that you guys were out walking for a good 6 hours looking for me. Thanks for that by the way" He laughed, laying down and pulling you beside him. You smiled and rested your head in the crook of his neck and pressed a light kiss on the bruise that was coming up. The steady pace of his heart-beat lulled you to sleep.

"I love you, Y/N"

[elizabeatrice]

Mystery Spot (Chapter 68)

Let’s Talk About JSHK Manga #4

If you get the title reference, I applaud you.

Warning: 1) !!! MANGA SPOILERS UP TO CHAPTER 68 !!! Duh.

2) I dropped a couple of f bombs and several curses here ... I really ranted lmao.

3) This reaction/review is closer to me spewing wild theories rather than an actual review. But these wild theories are my reactions. So. Ehhh these theories are probably wrong anyway. Lemme have my dark, twisted fun, mkay? Not sure if they’re entirely coherent though.

Had trouble copying some kanji this time around ‘cause they’re so freaking blurry! So I got too lazy to write this yesterday haha. Thank you Ropes of Fate for the translation! Truly commendable heroes of the fandom *sobs*. I also used three panels from Chapter 61, translated by Caim.

Let’s jump into it (ba dum tss).

This chapter is a bit shorter than usual and boy do you feel it. Well. At least I do. But I really hope sensei are taking some time to relax. Last chapter was 45 pages, after all. Y’all deserve it you wonderful creators.

First of all I would like to dedicate the biggest f bomb for the villagers because what the fuck. Why the fuck would you sacrifice poor, innocent young girls just to keep yourself safe? And it’s not even a sacrifice to kami-sama! Y’all just droppin’ these girls to be eaten by supernaturals! And y’all practically manipulated them smh.

Are y’all insane?! Y’all could’ve just moved the fuck out. What kind of insane people just decide to stay near a literal pit of hell? Don’t give me the ‘we’ve lived here for generations’ bs okay ‘cause y’all neighbors be getting eaten by supernaturals but y’all rather trade innocent young girls for your own safety. If Berkians and Asgardians can suck it up and be the bigger nation with all that ‘Berk/Asgard is not a place it’s the people’ shit, y’all can too.

I’ve disliked characters in JSHK before. But I’ve never hated JSHK characters before. Until now. Y’all fucking did it, dumbass villagers.

Ahem. Pardon me.

Because my brain is a literal self-debate machine let me just say that I did consider several possibilities in these ‘people’’s defense. There’s the obvious ‘some people back then didn’t know any better and believe a human sacrifice will solve everything’ mindset. Then there’s the possibility of them being trapped in their village for some reason, hence not having any other choice but to sacrifice those girls.

But y’know what else could be the case? ‘Cause my mind really went dark there for a bit.

The Minamoto clan let it happen.

In the last chapter it was mentioned that the Minamoto clan was involved. And this is a bit shocking now that I think about it more ‘cause Teru has always been adamant that all supernaturals are evil and must be exorcised, humans must be protected.

But what if they just let the villagers sacrifice these girls so that the monsters can be contained in this village, in that pit, instead of running amok to other places and cause more trouble?

Which makes me wonder.

Uh. Where did Teru go to? Does he know about this? Did he go to that pit (or that village, if Kamome Academy wasn’t built on its land)?

If he does know, isn’t he interested in saving a fellow human student and underclassman? If he does know about the Akane clan, isn’t he interested in telling his VP, who’s obsessed with an Akane? Unless ... you know ... he meant for this to happen, which I kinda doubt.

He must know something about this. He went out of his way to make Akane promise to protect Kou if something were to happen. What’s more dangerous than the Grim Reaper showing up looking for a sacrifice who turned out to be Kou’s beloved senpai’s best friend? What if Akane had to choose between Aoi and Kou at some point?

Okie next I wanna talk about Hanako. This is gonna sound just as far fetched as the previous bit lmao but here goes.

Boiiii y’all saw it. The pause before his answer. His face drawn out of view, in an evasive body language.

(Hanako my boy pls do us all a favor and stop lying to your girlfriend, we all know how well that turned out in Picture Perfect lmao)

Theory. He knew what’s been going on all along. Or at least the gist of it.

Remember this?

Imma take a detour a lil bit.

The Far Shore/torii gate refused Nene in chapter 67, right? In my Chapter 67 reaction I said it was the bracelet that saved her but now I think the bracelet probably disguised her as Sumire in the villagers’ eyes. So the Far Shore/torii gate refused her, and we all thought it was because she wasn’t an Akane.

But then we found out that Hanako was right about the village. It was just a ‘made up world’ inside Shinigami’s boundary. It’s just a reenactment of the day Sumire died, probably based on Shinigami’s memories, as the first page of Chapter 64 said.

So of course Nene was refused. Because in his memories, Sumire was the one who fell into the pit that day.

Sumire also said in this chapter’s narration that the villagers sacrificed young girls. Not Akane girls. Also, before the sacrifices began, the monsters already ate villagers anyway, right? They didn’t only eat young girls. It wasn’t said as such. The villagers probably just chose young girls because that’s sorta like the equivalent of offering the best meat or smth. Practically a please accept our humble offering of tenderloin wagyu, O Horrible Monsters.

The coveted bloodline thing was probably a plus, not obligatory. Often in stories, people with high ‘spiritual energy’ are supposed to taste more delicious and grant whoever eats their meat special powers or smth (e.g. Tang Sanzang from Journey to the West). Also ancient cultures sacrifice young girls often, that was the trend.

And they proceeded to try to sacrifice Nene anyway, despite her not being an Akane. They said it themselves. “It doesn’t matter if it’s that girl.”

So according to the (rather vague) information we have, it’s possible that the sacrifice doesn’t have to be an Akane or a girl.

Some of y’all have been theorizing that the Yugi twins got involved with supernaturals, and that sorta lead to their death.

What if this is it?

I myself am not sure how it went down if this is really the case. But I keep imagining our boy’s infamous ‘I’m not going anywhere’ being said by Sumire because bruh she’s the epitome of not going anywhere. She was chosen to be sacrificed since she was a child, not given a choice. Even after she died and became a yorishiro, she was imprisoned in this time prison world or whatever, reliving her death every single day with no escape.

And I couldn’t help but think ‘hoooo shit what if???’

I mean. I don’t know who was the chosen sacrifice. Could be Tsukasa, could be Amane. Maybe he killed his brother so that he wouldn’t get sacrificed, and decided that he’ll die along with his brother. I’m not going anywhere. Maybe it also means I’m not letting you send my brother to be eaten by monsters, and since we can’t escape either, we’re staying here no matter what.

And if the Minamotos were really in on it, it makes sense for Grandma Minamoto to accuse Amane of being an evil murderer. He practically got in the way ‘of other people’s safety’ by killing the chosen sacrifice.

banjjakz also said something about the possibility of Tsukasa being a previous sacrifice. Read about it here and here. It’s pretty interesting!

Besides, a wonder whose precious person got sacrificed and later became their yorishiro? That’d be some parallel, haha.

Sure, Sumire said ‘if the kannagi was switched’. But the early narration didn’t mention a sacrifice of kannagi. Just ‘young girls’.

Look just lemme have this, alright?

Oh. Also I wanted to point out the possible tension/trust issues between Hanako and Nene but many other blogs have pointed it out quite well so I’m just gonna stick with my wild theories.

But I will address what Nene said about the pit.

Where is said pit anyway? In Kamome? Why is it open? Is it Tsukasa changing rumors and allowing more supernaturals to cross back to the Near shore? More likely. I mean, he does grant wishes for supernaturals after all.

Oh. Speaking of Nene. Let’s give her a round of applause for her character development. She’s become of better judgement regarding men’s terrible behavior. Wow. That’s my girl. I mean, we still don’t know much about Shinigami, but from what I’ve seen so far, Sumire guuuurrrrllllll you deserve better.

Regardless of my ships, these supernatural boys should take notes from my precious Kou and how he loves so selflessly. Lmao. Remember that one post-chapter panels in Picture Perfect where he said he’ll find Nene a prince in the real world, even though he likes her? Broooo I want ten of this precious boy.

Lastly, Akane and Aoi.

Where are they? They look like they’re stranded in some wild boundary somewhere, the one with half sunken houses and lost things that usually appear in color spreads. I am so hyped, ‘cause I love the aesthetics, and I wanna see more of this place.

Oh. And Akane’s alive. Phew. I gotta be honest though, I kinda looked forward to his death. Not because I hate the kiddo. He’s technically still human, right. I’m just wondering whether his death or Aoi’s would cause Teru to outright declare war against the Seven Wonders because aren’t these folks supposed to protect students like they claim to be? (This, of course, ignores my previous theories about the Minamoto clan)

Basically I just wanna see some shit go down with Teru mkay ‘cause this powerful dude has been useless for quite too long now.

Aoi’s still pretty confusing, too. She went from this weird expression:

to this:

She kinda looked like she was still under the influence of the drug thingy. But she was also concerned about Akane, even though it’s not like how she worried about Nene in the past. And she knew Akane longer than her, they practically grew up together. Real Aoi would be in tears seeing his condition, y’all. So I guess the drug thingy’s effect is slowly wearing out.

Closing! JSHK is dark but usually not in ways my brain expects it to be. (And a lot of times I still get surprised with the amount of comedy it has lmao.) Sooo sensei are probably gonna prove me wrong about most of these, anyway. Haha.

As always feel free to discuss.

[bssaz97]

How would the team especially Ruby react to Dracula Jaune (or Jaune D(racula) Arc)? Also does his semblance evolve? Like how he can give people his aura, it evolves where he can take others. Like how Dracula takes the life force/blood of his victims?

Ruby: Guys! I found Jaune! He’s over here!

Jaune Arc has been captured by Salem’s faction for Two. Whole. Months. But finally the group had been able to find where he was being kept and now they were going to bust him out. Thankfully Winter, Marrow and FNKI had defected from Ironwood’s military and decided to aid them in rescuing Jaune after they broke them out of captivity. They had barely escaped Ironwood’s clutches but now she had Jaune back. In order to avoid their Atlas pursuers the group decides to split up. One group (Oscar, Winter, Blake, Yang, FNKI, Penny, Pietro, Maria, Marrow, Robyn and Happy Huntresses) goes to Shade Academy in Vacuo while the others (Ruby, Weiss, Nora, Ren and Qrow) go to search for Jaune.

The odd thing was that they had kept Jaune in a vat of red liquid that she couldn’t immediately recognize but that could be looked at later. Although upon closer examination, Jaune looked quite paler and looked to be sleeping without a mask on. Soon enough Ruby blasted the control module and soon enough the tank emptied and Jaune slowly dropped to the ground. After a few seconds the tank opened and Ruby rushes to Jaune’s side, cradling his form in her arms.

Ruby: Jaune? Jaune, can you hear me? Are you ok?

When she received no response, Ruby began to panic and quickly checked his breathing. It was...slow, very slow. Next she moved her head towards his bare chest to hear his heartbeat.

*Ba....................................Bump!*

Ruby: Oh gods, please just let that be a part of my imagination.

Weiss: Ruby what’s taking so long?!

Ruby: He’s unconscious! I need someone to help me carry him.

Ren: I can-

Nora: I’LL HELP HIM. You just cover us!

Ren: ...Ok then.

Nora goes to Ruby’s side and together they carry Jaune out of the tank and then the group started to make their escape. As the group started making their way out of the base, they had to move quickly if they wanted to get out of there in one piece. Their group had made it outside and were making their way to their smuggled Manta ship, they were gonna make it out.....That is until a group of Atlesian soldiers came out of hiding and pointed their guns at them, Ironwood at point.

Everyone: Aw shit.

Ironwood: Sorry to interrupt your little rescue mission but but I believe you all will be coming with me now.

Qrow: Look James I know a lot of shit happened during the Fall of Mantle but that doesn’t mean we should keep aiming at each other’s throats.

Ironwood: Save it Qrow. From where I stand all I see are fugitives who are just as much a threat to the safety of Remnant as is Salem. Also if my memory serves me well, not only has your group acquired two stolen Atlas Mantas, taken the power of the Winter Maiden, corrupted my chain of command, and escaped Atlesian custody, you are also responsible for the death of many of my best men.

Ruby: Clover’s death wasn’t our fault it was Tyrian.

Ironwood: And Qrow allowed himself to aid in his murder. Qrow has as much of Clover’s blood in his hands as does that psychotic bastard. And don’t try to act innocent Rose. You’re just as much a criminal as is your uncle.

The General pulls out one of his signature pistols from it’s holster and points it at them.

Ironwood: Now drop your weapons you’re out numbered here. I won’t ask a second time.

Nora: Why so you can keep us as prisoners in your sky fortress! News flash! That plan didn’t work the first time so what makes you think it’ll work a second time!

Ironwood: .....For once you bring an excellent point Valkyrie. Why should I take you as prisoners, you’ve all already proven to be more dangerous alive so I can’t put you in a cage that you’re just going to break out of again. *Lowers his gun* Men...on my mark shoot to kill!

Weiss: Great one Nora! Now what’s your plan?!

Ironwood: 3...2...1....FI-

???: Before you do that Jimmy mind if interject?

Ironwood and everyone else present are brought out of the tense situation and notice that the once unconscious Jaune Arc was standing right begin Ironwood.

Ironwood: What?! H-How did?

Jaune: You see I just got out of being stuck in a tube for two months so understandably, I. Am. Very famished , so do you mind if I take a sip of one of your men? Sure? Gee thanks!

Ironwood: .....what?

Jaune: *Completely ignoring Ironwood * Hey you there, yes you, mind if I get some sip?

Specialist: W-What?

Jaune: *Grabs the soldier by the throat and lifts them up* I SAID LET ME GET SOME SIP!

The specialist screamed out of pain as they felt all of the aura in their body was being forcibly taken and dried up. The result was shown as the specialist looked paler and more dead than alive. Unceremoniously Jaune dropped the living corpse on the ground and looked much more livelier. Except not, as his skin remained pale, his hair had remained white instead of blonde and his once blue eyes opened showing that they were burning red with black sclera eyes instead. His voice was also very much deeper, he almost sounded like a different person.

Jaune: Aaaah! That really hit the spot! Now what was this you about killing us?

Ironwood: Open Fire!

At once all of Ironwood’s men open fired on the distorted Jaune Arc and watched as he seemed to take every shot they fired until he fell to the ground in a bloody mess.

Ruby: JAUNE NO!!!

Ironwood walked up to the body and shot the corpse two more times.

Ironwood: That was for Damien.

As Ironwood turns around to the rest of the group he’s met with a very angry Ruby pointing Crescent Rose point blank at his face.

Ruby: Give me one reason why I shouldn’t blow your brains out Ironwood!

Ironwood: Do you think I’m a fool, I know you won’t shoot me. You don’t have the resolve.

Ruby: *Cocks the bolt handle* You sure about that?

The two leaders stand-off each other and almost seem ready to kill the other in a moment’s notice.

Jaune: You know she’s right. She can do it.

Both leaders look back at the ‘corpse’ as it prepares to stand up from being gunned down. Once he stands up it almost as if he wasn’t harmed at all.

Jaune: You know what Jimmy....I’m feeling a bit more famished than I thought. Sooooooo I think I’ll just help myself to your men!

In a rapid pace Jaune charges at the group of specialists and proceeds to kill off each one. The others just witness as he effortlessly tears apart each of Ironwood’s men but leaves some alive to absorb their Aura. It was a terrifying and gruesome scene that left all of them sick to the stomach. By the end of it Jaune was nearly covered head to toe with the blood of many.

Jaune: WOW! I am impressed Jimmy...impressed of how shit your specialists were! Like seriously I didn’t even kill the last guy he just offed himself like a bitch! Now where were we again?

Ironwood: RRAAAHH! *Draws both of his pistols and starts to shoot at Jaune*

*BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!*

As if it was effortless, Jaune dodged all of Ironwood’s shots with a speed of a phantom and soon enough he was face to face to Ironwood.

Jaune: Sup.

Ironwood: H-Hey.

Jaune: I’m taking you arm now.

Ironwood: What?

Jaune grabs Ironwood’s left arm and rips it out it’s socket in a gory shower of blood and muscle.

Ironwood: AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

Jaune: What’s wrong Jimmy?! You were talking good shit a second ago! Why don’t you have one of your dead men give you a new arm?! I’m sure they gladly do it as they now have plenty to give. * While still holding the torn off appendage, Jaune grabs Ironwood’s black pistol and shoots him three times in the back*

Ironwood: AAAHH! *Wrinths in pain and drops his white pistol*

Jaune: What’s that Jimmy?! Don’t like getting shot a bunch of times, oh but I bet you love shooting at children off cliffs DON’T YA!!! *brings the pistol closer to his ear* What’s that you want me to shoot off your appendages?! Well then I guess it’s my lucky day!!!

Ruby: JAUNE!!!

Jaune stiffens at the voice he hears calling him, he looks to the side and sees Ruby with tears in her eyes and a almost terrified expression. She walks closer slowly to keep his focus on her. Ruby then kneels down and grabs the other pistol from Ironwood dropped. Once it’s in her hands she stands up to look at Jaune, her dear friend. She places her empty hand on his face gently.

Ruby: Let’s just go...he’s can’t chase us in his current condition. Please...come with me.

Jaune: ......... *He steps away from Ironwood and closer to Ruby, looking at her with a soft expression that reminded her that the man before her was indeed Jaune* Ok Crater Face.

Ruby: *Smiles* ‘Sniff’ Ok.

Jaune: *Looks back at Ironwood and looks down at the black pistol* You got cool guns Jimmy...I’m keeping them.

Ruby: *Grabs his arm* Come on let’s go.

Jaune: As you wish.

Weiss: What on Remnant just happened.

Qrow: I got no fucking clue Icicle.

Ren: *Walks up cautiously* J-Jaune.....is it really you?

Jaune: *Looks at him before smiling* Ren...you sonava bitch....how you doing’ buddy?

Ren: Good....you?

Jaune: Been better but what can ya do?

Nora runs up and nearly tackles her lost leader and clings to him closely.

Nora: I....I thought we lost you again...when...when they all shot at you. I thought you were done for.

Jaune: Oh come on, Nora. Who do I look like, Cardin Winchester? I’m not gonna abandon you like that.

Qrow: ....kid. The hell happened to you.

Jaune: ...... *Laughs softly* Now that is a long fuckin’ story.

-End-

Hope you enjoy my take on Dracula Jaune. I was inspired by Hellsing Abridged Alucard and Other forms of Drac in case anyone spot any references. And yes Jaune is taking Ironwood’s guns as they almost are asking for him to take them. See you all later!

[ace-octo-pix]

This is... going to be a bit long. sorry, mobile users. The ocs are listed by team!

SPLATOON 1 TEAMS

ROKA/OLIVIA/AGENT 3. A bit of a lovable goof, with caring too much for her little inkling body. Fierce in battle. Yes, she gets the scar in the OE arc, but the OE arc goes a bit differently in the story due to... reasons? yeah, reasons. She goes missing for a full year and that’s when Akim takes up the Agent 4 handle.

MINT TEA/PAIVA. A bit of a gossip, but also a wall of support. Wants to cheer everybody up, but is hiding issues of her own. Close friends with Roka. A possible ship with roka, as well. She’s the second leader of the team, and the only one in contact with Roka, right up until her disappearance. Oops. Literally the only one with a picture like this.

GLASSES/HENRIETTA. I did not know that the splatoon manga glasses was known as glasses, and this is awkward. and also full moon is a thing and AGH. anyway glasses. Seems to be a sarcastic little piece of shit, but honestly it’s just a front to her inner core. Of someone who likes to snipe and have fun. Wonder what caused her to be like that? hm.

Bandanna/Daphyne. She exudes an aura of edge, an aura of Not Caring... but she really does care... a lot more than she lets on. Will Fight anybody who disses her pals. Honestly a teen girl at heart. Loves black.

RETRO/AKIM/AGENT 4. A bit of a prick, but the kind of prick you know doesn’t mean his words. He’s kind of skilled in battle with his roller, which makes this W O R SE !! a big fan of music, and gaming, and also being gay. he makes jokes about that a lot.

SPECS/MARK: you know the stereotypical nerd? stays in a bedroom most of the day, tinkering around with stuff? That’s Specs! He likes to play video games with Retro, and... oh, look at that, another ship. Wow. Analytical!

SUNNY/GWEN. Similar to another person, she appears to not care, while caring a lot. Apathetic seeming, but able to come out of her core to care. Probably has a lot of interests from her girlfriend...

RAINY/SARAH. She’s fueled by a firey passion most of the time, but it tends to fizzle out quickly, and that’s how she and Sunny met, basically. Not pictured is the Traditional Headband she wears. Yes, she and Sunny are girlfriends. yay matching outfits.

PAINT! Er, she looks... not like this as much? Her gloves cover her fingers, and her hairstyle is the enemy octo hairstyle! In the ‘first game’ aka the first arc, she actually wears the paintball mask which covers her whole face, and also mains chargers. She just switched to brella in the second game. Shy, kind of nervous, but willing to put her foot down when push comes to shove. Er, she also has to be pushed to that point. Poor girl.

FISHFRY. A super out-there kinda kid. sorry, some ocs don’t have much personality. He will Protecc Paint with his life. Probably does research and field expeditions for her.

PEAKS. Proud of her role in battle, and probably the first one Paint trusted with the secret of her being an octoling, and the one best fit to break the news.

VECTOR. Full Attacc mode. Fueled by battle, loves to battle. Whenever Paint is taken off guard, she’s probably the one there to back her up.

ZEKKO. Leader of the Marksmen. Sorry there isn’t much about him. he’s definitely gay tho? Loves bothering the other players with his gun.

PANEL. A bit of a nerd, though he hides it behind his huge blaster.

SQUIDMARK. Reclusive? shows little emotion, but its definitely there.

CHECK. Loves the feeling of his hair. Probably more muscly than you would gather from his shirt.

SATIN. Loves this style and doesn’t get why people laugh at her scuba mask. knows what she’s doing in battle, but... not much outside of it.

CANCEL. Tends to ignore the outside world for her daydreams, even in battles, and still does well?? how does this team function

Ah, this is how they function. PARKA. Aka the straight person- well, they’re nonbinary and are hiding their ponytail in that hat of theirs. The person who sets the team straight and directs them in the right direction. Beakons help.

Zink. Just as odd as the rest of his team. He says his headband helps him, when it very clearly doesn’t. Or maybe it does and its just a hidden condition. Who knows? He’s just a bit bizarre.

BERRY. Leader of her team, she’s Suspicious of everything, and fierce in battle. Loves being Warm....

Olive. Er, he has the wrong ink color, and his eyes are blinking. It’s better like this instead of the WRONG PIECE OF HEADGEAR. Suave and cool, and yet constantly bickers with Berry. Ah, sibling culture. Super strong. A bit of a brat, but he won’t press on Berry’s anxious triggers. That’s Just Rude.

JELLY. Sometimes called Baby because of just how precious she acts. Will kick people if she has to.

SHRIMP. AKA... well. You know that headcanon that Pearl, Emperor, and Prince are siblings? Well, Shrimp’s their cousin. He’s got the short genes. He tries to compensate for it by being loud, and is often jokingly called Pearl’s cousin. Likes telling tales. That are often mostly true.

SPLATOON 2 TEAMS

HOOK/ATA/AGENT 8. A soft and kind soul, friendly and loves to talk more than take action, but when she takes action... whooo. she knows how to take action. If she’s angry, you don’t want to be around. Mostly quiet. Another possible ship with Roka.

YAMAGIRI/ADRIAN. Confident, and a bit cocky, but it’s mostly only a bit of exaggeration: he loves to stick to his ideals, and truly believes himself to be carrying those out to the best of his ability. Stupidly loyal to his friends.

TOOTHPICK/NOELANI. Two words to describe her: mom friend. Caring, worrying for everybody that crosses her vision, analytical to a stupid degree. Strong, so she can help throw her friends into a food cart so they can EAT FOOD. 

OCEANIC/VICTOR. A soft-spoken octoling, but is willing to do whatever it takes for his friends to Remain Happy, happy to shoulder their burdens. Hides his emotions under his big ol’ hat, though if you look under it, he’s probably a blubbering mess. Whenever angered, his voice seems to drop octaves and inflection. That’s terrifying!

BLOCKER. Oh my god, he’s a party animal. Oh my god. He likes doing memes and tricks, and, you know who this should remind you of? Aloha. Anyway, Blocker’s well known for his tricks with his brella, and his excellent dance skills... which also aids him in battle!

FUGU. He has a Big Ol Crush on Blocker, and I don’t think Blocker’s noticed yet. Oof. Kind of quiet and likes to observe before hopping into things, useful for a blaster with such a short range...? Awkward, but he’s trying to get better.

SEA SLUG. Constantly on the go, constantly moving, she’s gotta Go Go Go!! Hyperactive, probably can be seen stimming. Has an attachment to her gun.

LEAF. Seemingly hard-boiled, constantly huffing about something or other. She’s- she’s a Rider Tsundere, that’s all I can describe her as. Her friendships with Blocker the Party Master and Sea Slug have definitely Lightened her up. Still a little bit of a grump?

ARROW. Dependable. You can depend on him to tell you when you’re doing some Bad Shit, Stop That.

HOTHOUSE. A... a bit of a flirt, and a good punster. two things that shouldn’t be combined into one girl.

TACKLE VISOR. Keeps their face hidden purposefully, which hides their non-standard hairstyle. Rough and tough, a sneaky little bastard. You know, despite the TACKLE VISOR on their head.

MATCHA. A silly little guy. The oblivious one that somehow still manages to cooperate with Hothouse’s jokes anyway. May be faking obliviousness...

HICKORY. Such a casual guy. Him and Blocker are probably pals. Party pals. Would drink your soda on accident and then apologize.

DO-RAG. oh my god, look, it’s a lesbian. She loves to show off, and is super strong. Could probably lift her teammates above her head. Actually can’t see much without her glasses, they’re made for her weird-ass eyes.

REDLEAF. He looks like the type of guy who hyperfocuses on everything and has to be told to back off, but he’s not trying to be creepy. Soft. Would memorize your food favorites and cook it for you.

CLAMS. He. he loves being super fancy. Not because he thinks he’s above others, he really, really loves the aesthetic of it! He and Do-Rag fight over which splatling is better sometimes. And then help each other score dates.

EGG. Super silly, has probably eaten a raw egg whole on a dare. Easily dared into things, though this means she’s very resilient. Can and Will say silly things just to confuse people.

CARROT. Helps out with Egg’s jokes. Has shoved an entire carrot down her gut before. Egg and her were actually friends before they both traveled to the surface. They are... bad influences on each other.

RAINBOW: He’s a casual gay. I- uh. He’s super fun in battles, and is often the one daring Egg and Carrot to do things because he loves putting it on whatever the octo media is. Loves sandals, hates his toes feeling constricted.

CANARY. Oh my god this is a swamp gremlin. You know the meme versions of agent 4? that, times like 100. Jesus. This team is crazy.

SEASHELL. Doesn’t use the deco because her teammates described what the burstbomb and carbon did to people and she doesn’t wish to cause people harm....

JADE. he’s blue ba due be- i mean. he’s a good singer, but still learning the ropes of his new weapon.

DEEPSEA. A friend. The dad friend. Will tell jokes to make you feel better, but always a shoulder to lean on. Always will wear silly clothes too.

FORGE. ..... a guy of few words.... kind of like skull. doesn’t really talk much, but evidently is a good prankster and loves spicy things. Will tuck you into bed and then doodle on your face.

[probablyafish]

The problem with Pit Bulls

This is not an anti-pitbull post. As soon as any dog expert brings up this topic, people seem to either ignore it or shit all over you. This is purely educational, because people are still being attacked by pitbulls and they still don’t understand why. The whole “bad owners, not bad dogs” movement has, in my opinion, created more of a disaster for the breed than good. That movement has given people the mindset that you can erase hundreds of years of genetic conditioning with extreme amounts of affection. When all that affection does is make dogs that are predisposed to aggression, very anxious.  

First of all, the number one thing that people don’t seem to realize, is that the term “Pit Bull” is used to describe a mixed breed dog of bully breed origin. 

This is the only breed that can be rightfully called a “Pit Bull”, the American Pit Bull Terrier. Any other breed than this is not a pit bull. 

This is the breed that was created in England to bait bulls. This is the breed that was created with such aggression by breeding dogs with the most dominant and aggressive traits, that it would continue fighting even with severe injuries. This is the breed that is is directly dangerous (that is if they are pure). They were bred by crossing the Olde English Terrier, with the bulky and already dangerous Old English Bulldog. 

After bull baiting was outlawed, they were brought over to America for dog fighting, protection, and cattle driving (even though underground dog fighting rings still exist). Pure APBTs are nearly impossible to keep together without dominance issues. However, just because these dogs are genetically aggressive, does not mean they can’t be kept as companions in stress free households.

As long as the owner knows the breed history, handles the dog safely, gives them the much needed exercise, and gives them plenty of safe socialization, they can keep their aggression from developing into adulthood. This breed is very quick to revert back through stress and lack of exercise, which is where bites and attacks stem from, because dogs today rarely get enough stimulation or proper training. This breed is not for the unmotivated, and should not be in a household with children, as children produce a high energy that disturbs dogs. Pure coat colors are tan and white, or brindle. 

Other bully breeds that get mistaken for the APBT include:  The American Staffordshire Terrier

This is a breed that is linked genetically to the APBT, as it is a byproduct of cross breeding it for more strength, body mass, relaxed face, and coat color. However, in America, this breed had more use with hunting, farm life, and guarding, instead of blood sports. This stimulation through the breed’s development over a hundred years created a dog with a much more sociable and family oriented demeanor. With less of an ability to become aggressive through stress and lack of stimulation. Pure coat colors include everything from tan and white, heavy brindle, to grey and white. 

The Staffordshire Bull Terrier

A much smaller version of previous “Pit Bull” breeds, this dog was bred specifically for companionship. It’s size and genetically friendly disposition, made it a poor hunter and guard. After the Pit Bull Terrier made its way into America for dog fighting and farming, breeders in Britain began out crossing lines with friendlier dogs to create a less intimidating and more sociable dog. In the mid 1930′s, it was recognized as a separate bully breed. Pure coat colors include grey, black and white. 

The American Bully

This is a disaster dog, as there are so many amature breeders trying them for the most bulk and muscle regardless of temperament and genetics. They were originally a Staffordshire Bull Terrier crossed with more bulky breeds such as mastiffs and American Bulldogs. They come in M, L, XL, and XXL sizes, which given their body structure and weight, makes them very susceptible to joint damage and heart failure at XL and XXL sizes. 

Hulk, the “pit bull” is the most commonly known XXL American Bully, even though his neglectful breeders label him as an American Pit Bull Terrier for publicity, which gives people the false understanding that the APBT can reach 175 lbs of (overweight) muscle. 

Of course your little pibble isn’t aggressive, he’s not a pure American Pit Bull Terrier. Of course those dogs you saw on The Dodo’s friendly pit bulls videos are not aggressive, because they are mixes from bully origin, with random traits from random breeds.

The yearly dog bite statistics

This article from 2006 says:

“A review of 82 dog bite cases at a level 1 trauma center where the breed of dog was identified concludes that attacks by pit bulls are associated with higher morbidity rates, higher hospital charges, and a higher risk of death than are attacks by other breeds of dogs.

Merritt Clifton, editor of Animal People, has conducted an unusually detailed study of dog bites from 1982 to the present. (Clifton, Dog attack deaths and maimings, U.S. & Canada, September 1982 to November 13, 2006; click here to read it.) The Clifton study show the number of serious canine-inflicted injuries by breed. The author's observations about the breeds and generally how to deal with the dangerous dog problem are enlightening. According to the Clifton study, pit bulls, Rottweilers, Presa Canarios and their mixes are responsible for 74% of attacks that were included in the study, 68% of the attacks upon children, 82% of the attacks upon adults, 65% of the deaths, and 68% of the maimings. In more than two-thirds of the cases included in the study, the life-threatening or fatal attack was apparently the first known dangerous behavior by the animal in question. Clifton states:

If almost any other dog has a bad moment, someone may get bitten, but will not be maimed for life or killed, and the actuarial risk is accordingly reasonable. If a pit bull terrier or a Rottweiler has a bad moment, often someone is maimed or killed--and that has now created off-the-chart actuarial risk, for which the dogs as well as their victims are paying the price.”

I recommend reading up on genetics and traits according to the KennelClub

“How a dog looks and behaves is determined by a combination of the environment it lives in, the environment it has grown up in and its genetics. Environmental factors could include a dog’s diet, how much exercise it gets or the levels of hormones in the uterus it was raised in when it was an embryo. A dog’s genetics are determined before its birth and are the only way in which characteristics can be passed from parent to child. For example, a dog’s coat can be influenced by what it eats, sunlight, time of year, how short it is trimmed etc., but none of these factors will impact the coat of the puppies it has in the future, while its genes on the other hand will.”

We have to face it. As much as we hate to admit it, we are putting this breed further and further into disaster by allowing inexperienced and neglectful dog owners to breed these dogs, and pass them out to owners who aren’t willing to work with them, or just want them as a guard. Majority of dogs in the U.S. don’t get nearly enough stimulation for their breed level, and it leads to the dog getting pent up. If you walk your dog every day and feed them a good quality food, good job, you are doing it right. 

Story time! For example: Someone buys an AmStaff (or what he believes) pup from a poor breeder. The owner takes the dog out all the time as a puppy, mostly for attention. They start working 8-5 and are too tired when they get home to take the dog for a walk. They live in a small townhouse with a small yard. The dog then starts chewing, and then ripping open the couch. The owner is stressed from work, and comes home to see the dog misbehaving. He yells and smacks the dog on the butt. The dog gets stressed because he is only trying to release his energy. 

This happens several times. Eventually the dog is so unstable and goes savage when he sees strangers. The owner decides to breed his dog. He does not know that genetic testing is a thing you should do. His dog is overweight. Because he bought her from a poor breeder, she inherited the genes for hypothyroidism and PRA, and passes it on to her pups. He breeds her with a friend’s “pit bull mix” and creates a lineage of pups who not only inherited the unstable traits of one parent, but also the poor random non-pit bull genes from the mixed parent. If that pit mix is part APBT, you have a dog that can snap at any moment even with the smallest amount of stress. All it takes is a child laying on that dog when it doesn’t want to be bothered, or if you ignore the warning signs. 

Because you don’t know what the other breeds in that mix are, you are going to get pups with random traits. They could be aggressive, hyperactive, stubborn, herders, skittish, etc. 3 of the 6 pups develop hypothyroidism because both parents were carriers. The pups are all prone to aggression more than a normal AmStaff now because the parents were unstable pit mixes, and will need a lot more training to keep it in check. Future generations and mixes will now inherit the traits from these breeds. 

This is how it starts. Majority of “Pit Bull” backyard breeding in the U.S. is done by low income households in poor neighborhoods. These types of people are unable to feed their dogs a high quality grain free diet, and usually give them minimal exercise. They are usually guard dogs. Then they breed the dogs with unstable and mixed traits, and sell them to make a living. This goes on and on, creating generation after generation of dogs with an aggressive disposition, and mixed personalities. Most of which are rehomed or dumped at shelters, and the cycle continues.

No one stops these backyard breeders from breeding. It wouldn’t be so bad if they DNA tested their dogs, got registered, health tested, and then bred them only once a year during season. However, mixed pit bulls are the most backyard bred dog in the world, because of their naturally aggressive/dominant disposition; how quick they are to show it when chained on outside as a guard. 

The “bad people, not bad dogs” movement markets on this too. Majority of the people who advocate for this, don’t even know the difference between bully breeds, and protest by walking through the city with their mixed pit bulls on leashes. The same mixed pits who can be genetically predisposed to aggression thanks to poor breeding and lack of knowledge. 

Regardless of what bully breed it is, they all stem from the same story. In order to maintain a healthy companionship, the owner must be fully aware of that breed’s history and not disregard it because they are part of the “bad people not bad dogs” movement. We don’t forget that Siberian Huskies were once agile sled pullers, or that Border Collies were bred for herding sheep, so why would we forget that the APBT was bred for killing? Yes the APBT is a dangerous breed. The same as German Shepherds, Chihuahuas, Dalmatians, Tibetan Mastiffs, Dogos, Kangals, Chow Chows, Rottweilers, Dobermans, Jack Russel Terriers, Siberian Huskies, Dachshunds, etc. 

The only way to keep bully breeds from getting aggressive, attacking, and harming their reputation even further, is to ban together and abolish backyard breeding. Make it so that the only way to get a pure Amstaff or APBT, is by certifying that you are physically able to train it, socialize it, walk it every day, and understand the repercussions for crossing the bullies. Make it so that the only places to get a pup are from registered responsible breeders who have certification that their dogs are pure and within healthy breed standards. 

It’s not shocking to me when a I hear about more and more pit bull attacks. They are the most commonly backyard bred and mixed dog in the hands of people who can’t care for them properly. You are taking the aggressive APBT and tossing it’s genes in with the innocent AmStaff or other Bully, or even a random breed, and creating a lineage that can’t help but feel the instinct to attack. We are allowing dogs to be mixed and bred in the millions each year with unstable genetics and personality. 

Bullies can be great dogs if we take great care of them and give them the stimulation they need. If we ban backyard breeding, and enforce a spay/neuter law for pet owners who aren’t registered breeders; we can empty shelters, keep pets out of the hands of animal abusers, and keep each breed’s traits where they should be. 

[thegrumpypenguin]

  Jamarcus at four weeks

  Look how tiny he is!!!

On August 24, 2017 I showed up for my second “Keeper for a Day” prizes – this time with the lion keepers (I talk about it briefly in this post about Kanzi) – which began with the opportunity to attend the Morning Meeting (“Hill Street”, as it’s affectionately known to the Keepers) in the Atrium at North Service, the Admin building at the Zoo. Among other news and updates the Keepers logs from the previous day are read out to all assembled. As luck would have it, a baby bactrian camel had been born the day before so I was among the very first people to learn about it! I don’t recall if we were told his sex or his name at this time – likely not – but I know it didn’t take long to have that information because I was already labeling photos of him by his second week on this planet. His parents were Alice and Goober (yes, seriously) and I went over to Eurasia to see him as often as I could early on because when his sister, Jozy, was born I didn’t see her until she was six or seven months old.

  Already a charmer

Most of my early shots of him were through the fence around the “camel palace” because by the time he would be big enough to go out on the larger exhibit it would be winter and none of the camels would be out there (likely due to slippery conditions for both the camels and the Keepers, because it clearly wouldn’t be a weather-related issue). But he was a precocious young lad from the very beginning and always seemed to be in view. In fact, he was almost too precocious because I needed him to be farther away from the fence to be able to blur it out, whereas he often came over to see the people whenever anyone was stopping by. It was pretty difficult to be frustrated with anything that cute and that close by. I don’t know if this high energy caused, resulted from, or was completely unrelated to the fact that he had to separated from his mom early on because she became too aggressive towards him. The keepers were already supplementing Alice’s nursing schedule with bottles of her milk that they had expressed themselves; it became a matter of simply bottle-feeding Jamarcus exclusively from then on.

  Jamarcus snuggling with “Aunt Sally”

But Jamarcus was not to be totally abandoned. The Keepers decided that he should be paired with the sweetest, most laid-back adult female of the entire flock (I prefer “caravan” but it doesn’t make sense here): lovely Sally, who is typically the go-to camel for behind-the-scenes tours and close encounters in the main body of the Zoo. As hoped, the pair got along swimmingly and Sally exerted quite a calming influence on the young lad. Most of the times I visited them I saw a very similar image to the one at left: Sally relaxing comfortably and peacefully, with Jamarcus seldom very far away from her side. I would also hear Alice elsewhere in the palace area – often inside or around back – bleating to let the Keepers know it was time to come and collect some of her milk! I was lucky enough to witness a bottle feeding on a couple of occasions; however, these took place in a spot that did not lend itself to decent photos at all.

  Spindly legs and peach fuzz

Jamarcus was eating straw at quite an early age: this photo was taken when he was just seven weeks old and was certainly not the first time I had seen him at the feeder. We had an unusually hot and dry summer here in Toronto in 2016 which extended far into the fall; I took this shot on our Thanksgiving Day weekend in mid-October. This gave me plenty of wonderful opportunities to catch a glimpse of the adorable calf without having to be concerned with him being inside and out of the cold or snow until quite late in the year. By that time, he was clearly hale and hardy enough to withstand the chill and never really had to be specially sheltered on his own. I didn’t always take photos of him, though – at least not decent ones – because of the aforementioned issue with the fencing. Also, the area around the Camel Palace is not exactly huge so my views of him became quite repetitive. I began to count the days until the flock was once again given access to the main exhibit where I could have a much better opportunity to take pictures that were relatively fencing-free. (If not actually “footloose”. *BA-doom-tish*. Sorry.) I did grab one awesome shot that the amazing Sarah was able to “tweak” for me to remove the grid-marks of the fence. It probably would have been the photo in the calendar had I taken it in time (this was shot in early January):

  Don’t you just wanna skritch that fuzzy head??

  Aunt Sally in the snow

While I was waiting, I did have one really great experience with the camels. In February, the Volunteers had their annual “Winter Blahs” which is an opportunity, while the Zoo is not busy, to have a meeting and then a behind-the-scenes of our own, just as a little pick-me-up in the dark of the winter. Our Friday group was given two choices: the giraffes or the camels. I had been BTS with the giraffes on more than one occasion so I chose the camels because: 1) I had never been in the camel barn before; and b) there was a baby to spend time with! When our little group arrived we were led into the back paddock where, as expected, Sally was waiting to greet us. We each had an opportunity to come in contact with her and the Keeper, Jennifer, gave us an excellent run-down of the whole camel program since the Zoo first opened. (There’s a side-story here which I will share at the very end of this post.) When things appeared to be winding down, cognizant of the fact that we had time left for our session, I asked Jennifer if we might visit the inside of the barn since I had always wanted to see it. She said, “Of course!” and took us in there for a few minutes where we met up with Tilly (who spent the entire time trying to eat my baseball cap, to my delight) and several others. Suddenly Jamarcus made an appearance at the half-door at the front of the barn. He was his usual feisty self and mostly made life miserable for Jennifer by attempting to bite her leg when she wouldn’t pay attention to him. Despite this annoyance, she graciously allowed me the chance to pet him before we left the barn and it was absolutely heavenly. His curly fur felt soft, scratchy, and bumpy all at the same time and his chin was feather-soft. It was transfixing…until he broke the spell with one last nip at his Keeper, which was the final straw for her. Still: a wonderful morning spent with this baby!

  Jamarcus and Sally

Finally at the very end of April I headed over for the Eurasia Wilds area of the Zoo and went to the Camel Palace. The numbers there were very thin – and no sign of Jamarcus! Excitedly I quickly went along the path to the vast grassy expanse of the exhibit and found, to my great joy, Jamarcus hanging out with his Aunt Sally, his half-sister Jozy, and Suria, a two-year-old female who had arrived from Quebec before Jamarcus was born. He had been spending more and more time with the young girls in addition to Sally through the latter stages of the winter, so this wasn’t a surprise to me at all. He was considerably bigger – and very much more woolly – but he seemed to still be full of that impish delight at simply existing, which I can only imagine was increased exponentially by the new access to the hills and grassland, and full exposure to the soft sun of the early spring. He was lying tightly against Sally when I first encountered him, but after I called his name out he wasted no time in showing off his exuberance:

    Eventually he got to his feet and worked his way over to where I was standing…

  …before heading up the hill to hang with his “sisters” for a while.

  (L-R) Suria, Jamarcus, Jozy

  I didn’t see him again for quite a while, mostly due to the Zoo being closed for five weeks from early May to mid-June. When I did get back there I was stunned by this sight:

Where’s the rest of Jamarcus??!

My goodness! Jamarcus had gone through such a shed it looked like he had been struck with alopecia or something! Quite a shock to the eyes.

Now he is nearing his first birthday and has grown to a healthy size (although he has a lot farther to go), but he clearly hasn’t lost an ounce of that curiosity or boyish impishness:

  Next month is a very special “Baby Boom”: four of the most adorable little boys you have ever seen in your life. I’m very much looking forward to writing about them! See you then!

  Oh, that’s right. I owe you a story. Ok, here goes: when my group of Volunteers went behind-the-scenes in February one of the very first things Jennifer told us was about another Volunteer who had come through with a group (although it was unclear if he was leading a tour or had come with a different BTS group) who had come upon Jennifer cleaning up the paddocks around the barn and blurted out something about Keepers “spending all day cleaning up poop”. Absolutely disgraceful – and all of us there that day gasped in shock at the insensitivity and ignorance behind that event. She appealed to us to please, please not do that when we lead tours – although she definitely handled the affront brilliantly when it happened, it seems. We expressed our solidarity and apologized for our fellow Volunteer.

A little later on in the talk, Jennifer was telling us about the camel program over the years at the Zoo. She mentioned it the numbers were dwindling and she was concerned that there might be consideration given to phasing it out down the line. She mentioned that there had once been a huge number of bactrian camels at the Zoo and, in fact, there had been 30 when she had begun working with them. After a while she asked if we had any questions, so of course I immediately raised my hand. When she noticed it was me, she kind of sighed a little and said, “Yes, Steve?” in a bit of a sing-songy voice, obviously reading ahead a little bit.

I asked her, “Did you say there were 30 camels when you began, Jennifer?” She warily confirmed that this was, indeed, true. “Wow,” I continued. “That must have been an awful lot of poop to clean up, right?” Jennifer laughed and put her hand up to her face, shaking her head from side to side. Almost at once, the other Volunteers groaned and one of them smacked me on the shoulder. “We almost made it!” she said to me.

“Almost made it??!” I chortled. “Have you met me? There was no way we were going to get out of here without me asking a question about poop. In fact, I’m a little ashamed it took me so long to ask it, to be honest!”

And yet, I still got to see the barn and pat Jamarcus after that. I guess it pays to know your audience.

2017 “Baby Boom!” Calendar – August Story On August 24, 2017 I showed up for my second "Keeper for a Day" prizes – this time with the lion keepers (I talk about it briefly in…

[bookmonstereliz]

I've been asked to be a panelist for a mini comic con style thing at the library. I'm super excited, they want me to talk about fan fiction!!! One of the librarians asked me to write him my thoughts and opinions to narrow down my topic and I wrote a love letter to fan fiction turned accidental essay. Here it is, I'd love your thoughts and opinions! I love fan fiction, both reading and writing it. I've always been a big reader and movies don't usually catch my attention as much as books do, though a good tv show can grab my interest if it has a great concept and characters. I love fan fiction because it takes these characters and worlds that we fall in love with from books and movies and it lets us expound on them. Once my 45 minute tv episode is over I can sit down and elaborate on scenes that were hinted at or I can "fix" what they got wrong. Once the season is over I can still hold onto the joy and excitement by reading and writing about them.  After reading a lot of fan fiction I've honestly become more picky in my reading of published literature. I have a BA in Lit from USF so I hope I can tell good lit from the terrible! A large chunk of fan fiction is steamy stuff, but I think it goes beyond your normal harlequin romance paperback that's a dime a dozen. The tropes are different. The "alternate realities" are pretty formulaic, but they're unique to fan fiction. The most common ones I can think of are coffe shop au, college/high school,  soulmate, alpha beta omega (werewolf), fake married/dating, the list could go on. The characters and worlds are ready made but they're unique and distinct in each retelling. I read a comment recently that said fan fic is so satisfying because it doesn't have to waste time introducing the characters and worlds, most of the exposition is chopped in favor of action. Fan fiction is also interesting in how it's organized. In the library books are categorized by content- youth, ya, fiction and non fiction, and broken down further from there. Thank you Mr. Dewey! Fan fiction is usually categorized in two ways- fandom and feeling. Works are usually tagged as slow burn, hurt/comfort, action/adventure, fluff, or the beloved smut. These are the genres. I could go on about the tag system, but that's a deeper conversation. I think that one of the most important distinctions that makes fan fiction so amazing is the range of diversity. I'm on tumblr a lot and there's a lot of disappointment and anger over the lack of diversity in media, particularly on the screen. I find that fan fic offers a more well rounded female main character.  "Strong female characters" on screen and in Lit are often poorly written pitting strength against femininity. "I'm not like other girls" is a too common theme in mainstream media that can be harmful.  These characters are often two dimensional stale white bread characters. Because such a large section of fan fic writers are women, I think that women are more realistically and positively portrayed. The female characters in most fan fics don't simply want to be desired, they want to be cherished and appreciated as well. They aren't written for the male gaze, they are allowed to feel, think, and act out. I'm a big fan of the Avengers and my favorite fan fics are all in the Marvel universe, and they all center around one character - Darcy Lewis. Darcy Lewis in the movies is a rather unimportant comedic relief character but she can be found in an astonishingly large number of marvel fics as the main character. The most obvious reason is because she's a pretty blank slate, self insert character, perfect for shipping with your favorite male character, or female as the case may be. I've heard her described as the "fandom bicycle," a term which offends a big portion of her fan base. However, she has become more than just a proxy for the common female fan, she has become a beloved character on her own.  The collective fandom has given her a few basic "head cannons" that become a baseline for her character. She's usually pretty self assured, which is true in the movies, but in fics she is more independent. She is usually given the role of care taker and peace maker and in a large number of fics she loves to bake- probably because Kat Dennings role in 2 Broke Girls. She is often written as Jewish, and a whole lot smarter than the screen writers made her. She is not a skinny character, something a lot of women can relate to, and a lot of fics have her go through the journey of learning to love her full curvy self while others have her unapologetically love her curves. A common trope casts her as Tony Starks daughter, and deals with family drama, often having her use her privilege and position to enact positive change in the world. Each author adds their own spin, but she's no longer a two dimensional character, she has relatable feelings, desires, and flaws and usually she has to work to get Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Loki, or any of the dozen other males.  Fan fiction allows LGBTQ people to take beloved characters and interpret them as having different sexualities. Too many shows queer bait with their male characters or kill off their lesbian characters, and bi's and aces are rarely portrayed at all. This angers fans and fan fiction provides the perfect vehicle as they take their beloved characters and make them their own, or one could argue, they portray them as they should be. Things are not all perfect in this area of fandom, of course. Some argue that there's too much gay fiction as opposed to lesbian or bi fiction and blame straight girls for fetishizing gay relationships. While this may be true of some works, I think that most m/m or f/f works are born out of the potential chemistry in different character's relationships. Fan fiction takes place in the land of "what if" and plays out the numerous possibilities.  It's been pointed out that people of color aren't often as popular in ships as white characters, for instance some say people ignore shipping Finn and Poe in favor of Kylo Ren and General Hux. Personally, I think that there's room for both ships in the harbor, and I think it's great when people of color are recognised, sometimes inspite of the cannon's white washing. In The Avengers: Age of Ultron the Maximoff twins, who should be Jewish and Romani, are whitewashed and choose to work for Hydra- a Nazi group. A lot of works "fix" this. The same can be said for Harry Potter's Hermione Granger, who can be read in the books as black. Many fans envision Harry as Indian. I think that this is wonderful, because it draws people in as they engage in the medium; it isn't just static mindless enjoyment, it's inspired, thoughtful creativity.  Literature is a mirror for the human condition and fanfiction embodies regular everyday people holding a mirror to their dreams and desires using their favourite characters. It's not tailored for consumption and resell, it's an honest, heartfelt outpouring of love for a person's favorite characters and worlds. Classic literature speaks universal truths that haven't faded through the years. Fan fiction speaks to the here and now, it's fresh and new and portrays our generations desires, or caters to them. While there's a huge amount of trashy Fan fiction, there's just as much if not more that's masterfully written. No matter the level of skill the author has, they're all labors of love.

[savanahdppadillaim10insuran-blog]

Do you need full coverage insurance to take a driving test?

Do you need full coverage insurance to take a driving test?

How does that work? Me and my boyfriend just got a car & I still need to get my license in order to get full coverage insurance, but can I take my driving test without full coverage? I m in a bit of a pickle here any opinions would be great! I live in California.

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare free quotes :HELP-INSURE.NET

SOURCES:

How does that work? Me and my boyfriend just got a car & I still need to get my license in order to get full coverage insurance, but can I take my driving test without full coverage? I m in a bit of a pickle here any opinions would be great! I live in California.

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[seminarycoopbookstores-blog]

In Short: Boris Fishman

Boris Fishman was born in Belarus and has lived in the United States since the age of nine. He is the author of the novel A Replacement Life, which was chosen as a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. His writing has appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Times Magazine, The Wall Street Journal, The London Review of Books, The New Republic, and other publications. He lives in New York City. Don't Let My Baby Do Rodeo is his second novel. Catch Boris Fishman, in conversation with  S.L. Wisenberg, Saturday, March 25 at KAM Isaiah Israel. RSVP and details here. 

Maya had been early to pick up Max the day he didn’t come home with the school bus. Usually she was still powering up Sylvan Gate Drive when the old yellow bus sputtered to its crown, the doors exhaled, and Max tumbled out, always before the Kroon girl because Max always took the front seat. Even in the family Corolla, it was Alex at the wheel, Max in the passenger seat, and Maya in the back. Maya had gathered that the popular children sat back of the bus. She had asked Max once why he wasn’t among them. “There’s too much noise in the back,” he had said, and she had felt a hidden satisfaction at his indifference.

That day, after a week of disabling warmth premature even for New Jersey in June, a note of unhumid reprieve had snuck into the air—Maya had caught it on her drive home from the hospital—and so she had walked out of the town house early. On the rare occasions Alex was home early enough to collect Max, he drove the thousand yards to the head of the drive—Alex enjoyed the very American possibility of this convenience. But Maya walked. She was on her feet all day at the hospital, but she shuttled between three rooms and it was all indoors.

In Kiev, Maya’s mother had always awaited her by the school doors, painted and repainted until they looked like lumpy old women. The walk home was time alone for mother and daughter; by the time they reached their apartment, Maya’s father would already be at the kitchen table slouched over the sports section, the only part of the newspaper where things didn’t have to be perfect. Maya’s mother would begin their walk by asking all the questions a mother was required to ask of a daughter’s school day—even as an eight-year-old, Max’s age, Maya understood this as a formality—but then, after a discreet pause, Galina Shulman would bring her daughter up to date on the indiscreet doings of “the great circus” of their thousand-apartment apartment building.

Maya was exhilarated by these walks for she felt her mother spoke as if Maya was not present, or if she were, then as an equal, a friend, not a daughter to whom convention described responsibilities. So—a silent hello to a woman now five thousand miles away—Maya picked up Max from the school bus. It wasn’t particularly necessary—the danger was not in the distance Max would have to cover down to their town house, but in his time out in the world. But it was Maya’s only time alone with her son. She used it to try to understand why she couldn’t always speak with Max in the same easy, unspooling way her mother had spoken with her. Maya did not have her mother’s imagination; that was part of it, certainly. Nor did she have her mother’s curiosity about her neighbors, though Maya knew that this was a failure of her looking, not their living. But none of that seemed the answer. Maya asked her son about school, questions he answered politely and briefly—she never failed to marvel at the unkinked Russian speech of her not-Russian son—and then both fell silent. All she could think was to take his hand, and he let her hold it. She felt she was failing him in some way. Failing him, and couldn’t say how; she felt thick and graceless. 

They had been lucky, the adoption supervisor had kept reminding them, as if he worked on commission. American parents often had to go abroad to find children: Malaysia, Korea, Romania. Bribes, endless waiting, no medical records. Whereas the Rubins got an outright American. Who got an American any longer, and a brand-new baby instead of a child old enough to have been terrorized by somebody else? Maya had the ungrateful thought that she did not want an American: She felt that she would have more to say to a Romanian child. In the sleepless hold of another interminable night, she had shaken awake Alex and said so. He closed his fingertips around the knob of her shoulder, as if she were a loose lightbulb: “He’s a newborn. Was New Jersey familiar to you when you moved here? This house? But now it’s all home.” He turned onto his side, cupped one of her breasts from behind, and said: “Sleep, Maya—please.”

She had picked out the weary magnanimousness in his voice—he had to indulge not only her willingness to adopt, but her anxieties over it. Only who wanted a child more than he did? However, a biological solution being impossible, Alex’s desire had just one condition—that he not be made to confess it. And so she carried on as the secret advocate for them both. His contribution was to disparage the woe conjured up by her railroad mind at two in the morning. “Railroad mind”—that was Alex’s term for the hive of Maya’s brain. Railroads made him think of motion, steam, frantic activity. What he really meant was that she was like some Anna Karenina—superfluously melodramatic. And Maya understood what he really meant only because she had a railroad mind.

Alex had been ten years younger than Maya’s eighteen when his family had come to America; the Rubins had come for good, whereas Maya had come on an exchange program in 1988, the first year such things were possible. After college, Maya was supposed to return to the USSR—a plan altered by her love affair with Alex and the end of the USSR. Alex had taken to America—he spoke with confidence about Wall Street, the structure of Congress, technology. Maya conceded his authority. Only once had she exclaimed that in twenty years he had almost never left New Jersey, so what did he know? Alex had looked at her as if at a child who doesn’t understand what it means to say things one will later regret, and retreated upstairs. He did not speak to her for three days, their sullen meals spent communicating through Max and his grandparents, and Maya never said that again.

Was this acceptable to discuss with an eight-year-old? Maya laughed at herself and rehearsed her to-do list: Max needed a ride to Oliver’s on Saturday, and they had to find time before the end of the month to update two of Max’s vaccines—she would have to pick him up from school and rush back to the hospital before that office closed at four. She sniffed at the festively mild afternoon. The briefly unfevered air grew fevered inside her all the same due to the exertion required by the hill. The sweetness in the air would not last the night.

The Kroon girl was first, swinging her arms. This was new. This was something she and Max could talk about. Today, he had decided to sit in the back, just to see how things looked from back there. Perhaps he had made some new friends; he had one friend in the world, Oliver. Maya smiled at the Kroon girl, who ignored her, and looked up expectantly at the driver, who never chatted with Maya, which made her feel snubbed though she tried to persuade herself it was because he was grave about his responsibilities. He nodded and yanked the door lever.

“Wait!” Maya shouted. She laid a soft fist into the glass. The driver looked up reproachfully and the door folded back in.

“Please don’t hit my bus,” he said.

“But where is my son?” Maya said. She heard, as always, her slight accent, like a hair under the collar. She spoke with resentment—all those times the bus driver had not acknowledged her.

“The young man was not on the bus,” the driver said.

“It’s Max,” she said.

“Not on the bus,” the driver repeated.

“But he went to school,” she opened her hands. She took in the driver’s gray T-shirt, swollen by the half globe of a gut, the blue sweatpants and brown sandals.

“Call the school?” he said. “But I’ve got to move now.” He checked the mirror for traffic.

Maya’s chest emptied out and she leaped onto the first stair of the bus. The driver looked on with astonishment.

“Children!” she yelled at the bus. The small heads poking out of the green rows gave her attention, even the ones in the back. “My son, Max. He takes this bus every day.”

They stared at her silently.

“Ma’am,” the driver said.

She swiveled to face him. “You might put on something more decent to set an example for children.” 

His head retreated slightly, and a look of sleepy alarm came over his face.

She turned back to the rows. “Does anyone on the bus know who my son is?” They gazed at her stubbornly. They were not going to give anything up and they felt pity for her.

“You know Max,” the driver called out from behind her. She felt gratitude—he knew her son’s name. Then she remembered that she had just used it. “This is his mom.”

A hand shot up from a row midway down the aisle.

“You don’t have to raise your hand,” the driver said.

“Max took another bus,” the voice came. It was a girl’s voice. Maya surged down the aisle.

“What other bus?” she demanded. The girl—unattractive, a pug nose, Maya disliked her instantly, as if she were responsible for Max’s disappearance—shrugged.

“Was it a school bus?” the driver said. “Yellow.”

“No,” the girl said.

“Town bus? With purple stripes.”

The girl nodded.

“I don’t suppose you saw the number,” the driver said.

“It stops by the flagpole.”

“That’s the 748,” he said. Maya turned toward the driver. “That one goes north,” he said. “Toward the state line.”

“What state!” she exclaimed.

“New York State,” he said. His face folded, concern rising in it like color. Until a moment before, Maya had wanted to see it, and now she did not. “I’ll radio the school.”

Maya raked her temples. She heard the rumbling of the vehicle and the silence of the children. The back of the school bus was sticking out into Brandenburg Turnpike, cars backing up as they funneled into a single line to avoid it. The driver lifted a wired receiver, which crackled like a radio between stations, and murmured into it. Some of his belly rested on the lower part of the steering wheel.

“I can’t get them,” he said, exhaling contritely. “They’re busy with buses. But I’ll get ’em. He’ll turn up.”

Things had improved between them, between her and the driver, and Maya tried to take this to mean that good things were possible and her son would return. She stared out of the open doors down at the drive, its familiar plunge suddenly malevolent and abundant with risk. Without turning back to the driver, she rushed the steps down to the ground and ran toward home, the pavement going off in her knees. Behind her she heard sounds belonging to other people in another world: the bus doors sliding shut, the brake coming off, the bus shuddering off to the next residential development, where children would be disgorged into the hands of their mothers, an unremarkable ritual made remarkable only by its failure to take place.

From the book: DON’T LET MY BABY DO RODEO by Boris Fishman. Copyright © 2016 by Boris Fishman. Reprinted courtesy of Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

[thegrumpypenguin]

  Jamarcus at four weeks

  Look how tiny he is!!!

On August 24, 2017 I showed up for my second “Keeper for a Day” prizes – this time with the lion keepers (I talk about it briefly in this post about Kanzi) – which began with the opportunity to attend the Morning Meeting (“Hill Street”, as it’s affectionately known to the Keepers) in the Atrium at North Service, the Admin building at the Zoo. Among other news and updates the Keepers logs from the previous day are read out to all assembled. As luck would have it, a baby bactrian camel had been born the day before so I was among the very first people to learn about it! I don’t recall if we were told his sex or his name at this time – likely not – but I know it didn’t take long to have that information because I was already labeling photos of him by his second week on this planet. His parents were Alice and Goober (yes, seriously) and I went over to Eurasia to see him as often as I could early on because when his sister, Jozy, was born I didn’t see her until she was six or seven months old.

  Already a charmer

Most of my early shots of him were through the fence around the “camel palace” because by the time he would be big enough to go out on the larger exhibit it would be winter and none of the camels would be out there (likely due to slippery conditions for both the camels and the Keepers, because it clearly wouldn’t be a weather-related issue). But he was a precocious young lad from the very beginning and always seemed to be in view. In fact, he was almost too precocious because I needed him to be farther away from the fence to be able to blur it out, whereas he often came over to see the people whenever anyone was stopping by. It was pretty difficult to be frustrated with anything that cute and that close by. I don’t know if this high energy caused, resulted from, or was completely unrelated to the fact that he had to separated from his mom early on because she became too aggressive towards him. The keepers were already supplementing Alice’s nursing schedule with bottles of her milk that they had expressed themselves; it became a matter of simply bottle-feeding Jamarcus exclusively from then on.

  Jamarcus snuggling with “Aunt Sally”

But Jamarcus was not to be totally abandoned. The Keepers decided that he should be paired with the sweetest, most laid-back adult female of the entire flock (I prefer “caravan” but it doesn’t make sense here): lovely Sally, who is typically the go-to camel for behind-the-scenes tours and close encounters in the main body of the Zoo. As hoped, the pair got along swimmingly and Sally exerted quite a calming influence on the young lad. Most of the times I visited them I saw a very similar image to the one at left: Sally relaxing comfortably and peacefully, with Jamarcus seldom very far away from her side. I would also hear Alice elsewhere in the palace area – often inside or around back – bleating to let the Keepers know it was time to come and collect some of her milk! I was lucky enough to witness a bottle feeding on a couple of occasions; however, these took place in a spot that did not lend itself to decent photos at all.

  Spindly legs and peach fuzz

Jamarcus was eating straw at quite an early age: this photo was taken when he was just seven weeks old and was certainly not the first time I had seen him at the feeder. We had an unusually hot and dry summer here in Toronto in 2016 which extended far into the fall; I took this shot on our Thanksgiving Day weekend in mid-October. This gave me plenty of wonderful opportunities to catch a glimpse of the adorable calf without having to be concerned with him being inside and out of the cold or snow until quite late in the year. By that time, he was clearly hale and hardy enough to withstand the chill and never really had to be specially sheltered on his own. I didn’t always take photos of him, though – at least not decent ones – because of the aforementioned issue with the fencing. Also, the area around the Camel Palace is not exactly huge so my views of him became quite repetitive. I began to count the days until the flock was once again given access to the main exhibit where I could have a much better opportunity to take pictures that were relatively fencing-free. (If not actually “footloose”. *BA-doom-tish*. Sorry.) I did grab one awesome shot that the amazing Sarah was able to “tweak” for me to remove the grid-marks of the fence. It probably would have been the photo in the calendar had I taken it in time (this was shot in early January):

  Don’t you just wanna skritch that fuzzy head??

  Aunt Sally in the snow

While I was waiting, I did have one really great experience with the camels. In February, the Volunteers had their annual “Winter Blahs” which is an opportunity, while the Zoo is not busy, to have a meeting and then a behind-the-scenes of our own, just as a little pick-me-up in the dark of the winter. Our Friday group was given two choices: the giraffes or the camels. I had been BTS with the giraffes on more than one occasion so I chose the camels because: 1) I had never been in the camel barn before; and b) there was a baby to spend time with! When our little group arrived we were led into the back paddock where, as expected, Sally was waiting to greet us. We each had an opportunity to come in contact with her and the Keeper, Jennifer, gave us an excellent run-down of the whole camel program since the Zoo first opened. (There’s a side-story here which I will share at the very end of this post.) When things appeared to be winding down, cognizant of the fact that we had time left for our session, I asked Jennifer if we might visit the inside of the barn since I had always wanted to see it. She said, “Of course!” and took us in there for a few minutes where we met up with Tilly (who spent the entire time trying to eat my baseball cap, to my delight) and several others. Suddenly Jamarcus made an appearance at the half-door at the front of the barn. He was his usual feisty self and mostly made life miserable for Jennifer by attempting to bite her leg when she wouldn’t pay attention to him. Despite this annoyance, she graciously allowed me the chance to pet him before we left the barn and it was absolutely heavenly. His curly fur felt soft, scratchy, and bumpy all at the same time and his chin was feather-soft. It was transfixing…until he broke the spell with one last nip at his Keeper, which was the final straw for her. Still: a wonderful morning spent with this baby!

  Jamarcus and Sally

Finally at the very end of April I headed over for the Eurasia Wilds area of the Zoo and went to the Camel Palace. The numbers there were very thin – and no sign of Jamarcus! Excitedly I quickly went along the path to the vast grassy expanse of the exhibit and found, to my great joy, Jamarcus hanging out with his Aunt Sally, his half-sister Jozy, and Suria, a two-year-old female who had arrived from Quebec before Jamarcus was born. He had been spending more and more time with the young girls in addition to Sally through the latter stages of the winter, so this wasn’t a surprise to me at all. He was considerably bigger – and very much more woolly – but he seemed to still be full of that impish delight at simply existing, which I can only imagine was increased exponentially by the new access to the hills and grassland, and full exposure to the soft sun of the early spring. He was lying tightly against Sally when I first encountered him, but after I called his name out he wasted no time in showing off his exuberance:

    Eventually he got to his feet and worked his way over to where I was standing…

  …before heading up the hill to hang with his “sisters” for a while.

  (L-R) Suria, Jamarcus, Jozy

  I didn’t see him again for quite a while, mostly due to the Zoo being closed for five weeks from early May to mid-June. When I did get back there I was stunned by this sight:

Where’s the rest of Jamarcus??!

My goodness! Jamarcus had gone through such a shed it looked like he had been struck with alopecia or something! Quite a shock to the eyes.

Now he is nearing his first birthday and has grown to a healthy size (although he has a lot farther to go), but he clearly hasn’t lost an ounce of that curiosity or boyish impishness:

  Next month is a very special “Baby Boom”: four of the most adorable little boys you have ever seen in your life. I’m very much looking forward to writing about them! See you then!

  Oh, that’s right. I owe you a story. Ok, here goes: when my group of Volunteers went behind-the-scenes in February one of the very first things Jennifer told us was about another Volunteer who had come through with a group (although it was unclear if he was leading a tour or had come with a different BTS group) who had come upon Jennifer cleaning up the paddocks around the barn and blurted out something about Keepers “spending all day cleaning up poop”. Absolutely disgraceful – and all of us there that day gasped in shock at the insensitivity and ignorance behind that event. She appealed to us to please, please not do that when we lead tours – although she definitely handled the affront brilliantly when it happened, it seems. We expressed our solidarity and apologized for our fellow Volunteer.

A little later on in the talk, Jennifer was telling us about the camel program over the years at the Zoo. She mentioned it the numbers were dwindling and she was concerned that there might be consideration given to phasing it out down the line. She mentioned that there had once been a huge number of bactrian camels at the Zoo and, in fact, there had been 30 when she had begun working with them. After a while she asked if we had any questions, so of course I immediately raised my hand. When she noticed it was me, she kind of sighed a little and said, “Yes, Steve?” in a bit of a sing-songy voice, obviously reading ahead a little bit.

I asked her, “Did you say there were 30 camels when you began, Jennifer?” She warily confirmed that this was, indeed, true. “Wow,” I continued. “That must have been an awful lot of poop to clean up, right?” Jennifer laughed and put her hand up to her face, shaking her head from side to side. Almost at once, the other Volunteers groaned and one of them smacked me on the shoulder. “We almost made it!” she said to me.

“Almost made it??!” I chortled. “Have you met me? There was no way we were going to get out of here without me asking a question about poop. In fact, I’m a little ashamed it took me so long to ask it, to be honest!”

And yet, I still got to see the barn and pat Jamarcus after that. I guess it pays to know your audience.

2017 “Baby Boom!” Calendar – August Story On August 24, 2017 I showed up for my second "Keeper for a Day" prizes – this time with the lion keepers (I talk about it briefly in…

[thegrumpypenguin]

  Jamarcus at four weeks

  Look how tiny he is!!!

On August 24, 2017 I showed up for my second “Keeper for a Day” prizes – this time with the lion keepers (I talk about it briefly in this post about Kanzi) – which began with the opportunity to attend the Morning Meeting (“Hill Street”, as it’s affectionately known to the Keepers) in the Atrium at North Service, the Admin building at the Zoo. Among other news and updates the Keepers logs from the previous day are read out to all assembled. As luck would have it, a baby bactrian camel had been born the day before so I was among the very first people to learn about it! I don’t recall if we were told his sex or his name at this time – likely not – but I know it didn’t take long to have that information because I was already labeling photos of him by his second week on this planet. His parents were Alice and Goober (yes, seriously) and I went over to Eurasia to see him as often as I could early on because when his sister, Jozy, was born I didn’t see her until she was six or seven months old.

  Already a charmer

Most of my early shots of him were through the fence around the “camel palace” because by the time he would be big enough to go out on the larger exhibit it would be winter and none of the camels would be out there (likely due to slippery conditions for both the camels and the Keepers, because it clearly wouldn’t be a weather-related issue). But he was a precocious young lad from the very beginning and always seemed to be in view. In fact, he was almost too precocious because I needed him to be farther away from the fence to be able to blur it out, whereas he often came over to see the people whenever anyone was stopping by. It was pretty difficult to be frustrated with anything that cute and that close by. I don’t know if this high energy caused, resulted from, or was completely unrelated to the fact that he had to separated from his mom early on because she became too aggressive towards him. The keepers were already supplementing Alice’s nursing schedule with bottles of her milk that they had expressed themselves; it became a matter of simply bottle-feeding Jamarcus exclusively from then on.

  Jamarcus snuggling with “Aunt Sally”

But Jamarcus was not to be totally abandoned. The Keepers decided that he should be paired with the sweetest, most laid-back adult female of the entire flock (I prefer “caravan” but it doesn’t make sense here): lovely Sally, who is typically the go-to camel for behind-the-scenes tours and close encounters in the main body of the Zoo. As hoped, the pair got along swimmingly and Sally exerted quite a calming influence on the young lad. Most of the times I visited them I saw a very similar image to the one at left: Sally relaxing comfortably and peacefully, with Jamarcus seldom very far away from her side. I would also hear Alice elsewhere in the palace area – often inside or around back – bleating to let the Keepers know it was time to come and collect some of her milk! I was lucky enough to witness a bottle feeding on a couple of occasions; however, these took place in a spot that did not lend itself to decent photos at all.

  Spindly legs and peach fuzz

Jamarcus was eating straw at quite an early age: this photo was taken when he was just seven weeks old and was certainly not the first time I had seen him at the feeder. We had an unusually hot and dry summer here in Toronto in 2016 which extended far into the fall; I took this shot on our Thanksgiving Day weekend in mid-October. This gave me plenty of wonderful opportunities to catch a glimpse of the adorable calf without having to be concerned with him being inside and out of the cold or snow until quite late in the year. By that time, he was clearly hale and hardy enough to withstand the chill and never really had to be specially sheltered on his own. I didn’t always take photos of him, though – at least not decent ones – because of the aforementioned issue with the fencing. Also, the area around the Camel Palace is not exactly huge so my views of him became quite repetitive. I began to count the days until the flock was once again given access to the main exhibit where I could have a much better opportunity to take pictures that were relatively fencing-free. (If not actually “footloose”. *BA-doom-tish*. Sorry.) I did grab one awesome shot that the amazing Sarah was able to “tweak” for me to remove the grid-marks of the fence. It probably would have been the photo in the calendar had I taken it in time (this was shot in early January):

  Don’t you just wanna skritch that fuzzy head??

  Aunt Sally in the snow

While I was waiting, I did have one really great experience with the camels. In February, the Volunteers had their annual “Winter Blahs” which is an opportunity, while the Zoo is not busy, to have a meeting and then a behind-the-scenes of our own, just as a little pick-me-up in the dark of the winter. Our Friday group was given two choices: the giraffes or the camels. I had been BTS with the giraffes on more than one occasion so I chose the camels because: 1) I had never been in the camel barn before; and b) there was a baby to spend time with! When our little group arrived we were led into the back paddock where, as expected, Sally was waiting to greet us. We each had an opportunity to come in contact with her and the Keeper, Jennifer, gave us an excellent run-down of the whole camel program since the Zoo first opened. (There’s a side-story here which I will share at the very end of this post.) When things appeared to be winding down, cognizant of the fact that we had time left for our session, I asked Jennifer if we might visit the inside of the barn since I had always wanted to see it. She said, “Of course!” and took us in there for a few minutes where we met up with Tilly (who spent the entire time trying to eat my baseball cap, to my delight) and several others. Suddenly Jamarcus made an appearance at the half-door at the front of the barn. He was his usual feisty self and mostly made life miserable for Jennifer by attempting to bite her leg when she wouldn’t pay attention to him. Despite this annoyance, she graciously allowed me the chance to pet him before we left the barn and it was absolutely heavenly. His curly fur felt soft, scratchy, and bumpy all at the same time and his chin was feather-soft. It was transfixing…until he broke the spell with one last nip at his Keeper, which was the final straw for her. Still: a wonderful morning spent with this baby!

  Jamarcus and Sally

Finally at the very end of April I headed over for the Eurasia Wilds area of the Zoo and went to the Camel Palace. The numbers there were very thin – and no sign of Jamarcus! Excitedly I quickly went along the path to the vast grassy expanse of the exhibit and found, to my great joy, Jamarcus hanging out with his Aunt Sally, his half-sister Jozy, and Suria, a two-year-old female who had arrived from Quebec before Jamarcus was born. He had been spending more and more time with the young girls in addition to Sally through the latter stages of the winter, so this wasn’t a surprise to me at all. He was considerably bigger – and very much more woolly – but he seemed to still be full of that impish delight at simply existing, which I can only imagine was increased exponentially by the new access to the hills and grassland, and full exposure to the soft sun of the early spring. He was lying tightly against Sally when I first encountered him, but after I called his name out he wasted no time in showing off his exuberance:

    Eventually he got to his feet and worked his way over to where I was standing…

  …before heading up the hill to hang with his “sisters” for a while.

  (L-R) Suria, Jamarcus, Jozy

  I didn’t see him again for quite a while, mostly due to the Zoo being closed for five weeks from early May to mid-June. When I did get back there I was stunned by this sight:

Where’s the rest of Jamarcus??!

My goodness! Jamarcus had gone through such a shed it looked like he had been struck with alopecia or something! Quite a shock to the eyes.

Now he is nearing his first birthday and has grown to a healthy size (although he has a lot farther to go), but he clearly hasn’t lost an ounce of that curiosity or boyish impishness:

  Next month is a very special “Baby Boom”: four of the most adorable little boys you have ever seen in your life. I’m very much looking forward to writing about them! See you then!

  Oh, that’s right. I owe you a story. Ok, here goes: when my group of Volunteers went behind-the-scenes in February one of the very first things Jennifer told us was about another Volunteer who had come through with a group (although it was unclear if he was leading a tour or had come with a different BTS group) who had come upon Jennifer cleaning up the paddocks around the barn and blurted out something about Keepers “spending all day cleaning up poop”. Absolutely disgraceful – and all of us there that day gasped in shock at the insensitivity and ignorance behind that event. She appealed to us to please, please not do that when we lead tours – although she definitely handled the affront brilliantly when it happened, it seems. We expressed our solidarity and apologized for our fellow Volunteer.

A little later on in the talk, Jennifer was telling us about the camel program over the years at the Zoo. She mentioned it the numbers were dwindling and she was concerned that there might be consideration given to phasing it out down the line. She mentioned that there had once been a huge number of bactrian camels at the Zoo and, in fact, there had been 30 when she had begun working with them. After a while she asked if we had any questions, so of course I immediately raised my hand. When she noticed it was me, she kind of sighed a little and said, “Yes, Steve?” in a bit of a sing-songy voice, obviously reading ahead a little bit.

I asked her, “Did you say there were 30 camels when you began, Jennifer?” She warily confirmed that this was, indeed, true. “Wow,” I continued. “That must have been an awful lot of poop to clean up, right?” Jennifer laughed and put her hand up to her face, shaking her head from side to side. Almost at once, the other Volunteers groaned and one of them smacked me on the shoulder. “We almost made it!” she said to me.

“Almost made it??!” I chortled. “Have you met me? There was no way we were going to get out of here without me asking a question about poop. In fact, I’m a little ashamed it took me so long to ask it, to be honest!”

And yet, I still got to see the barn and pat Jamarcus after that. I guess it pays to know your audience.

2017 “Baby Boom!” Calendar – August Story On August 24, 2017 I showed up for my second "Keeper for a Day" prizes – this time with the lion keepers (I talk about it briefly in…