#I will do any others once I have a better idea of climate zones

[clannfearrunt]

I’m on mobile I can’t add this to my reblogs. Do you see this shit. Anyways this map calculates stuff assuming that you’re traveling at a constant speed (and on the current world) so the entire round trip is approximately 4 years but I’m imagining that aside from that stretch riding the current across the southern ocean there’s going to be frequent stops and they’re not going to be moving constantly so I could definitely stretch the reasonable travel time by more than that. Just one of the major Salmonid migration routes I was thinking could exist. This is not the one that comes by þ squidcountry

[contentloadinggg]

January Blues - Hozier

Author’s Note: Y’all I finally did it. We’re going to pretend it’s still January so this fits. But it’s finally here 🙏. Thanks to my bestie lunaritessane Who’s input made this fic a whole lot better. I love you💚. (Literally, like their beta reading was just delicious.)

Summary: Andrew is feeling down, you make him feel better. Gender neutral!reader. (3k words)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Smut! Smut turned weirdly poetic sometimes?. Kinda Switch!Andrew, sub vibes at the beginning, soft dom vibes later. Descriptive descriptions of Andrew’s long dick. (I have a problem)

This is a work fiction and is not a reflection of who Hozier is.

Inspired by:

“Well you cured my January Blues, yeah, you made it all alright.”

Fic under the cut💙, 18+ only, you’ve been warned.

The further Ireland dipped into the depths of winter, the more Andrew’s mood dropped. Reflecting the rainy, washed-out climate outside the frosty windows of his house. It hardly even snowed this winter, just a cold rain that somehow made his mood worse. Logically, he knew it was likely that the lack of sun on his already pale skin was what had him wallowing. But alas, no amount of tea and books seemed to make him feel any better. So that’s why he’d given up by this point. Gaze zoned out past the pages of his novel and tea now cold on the coffee table. His mind clouded like the gathering storm outside.

“Andy?”

A gentle call of his name had Andrew startled. Usually he would’ve noticed your presence by the sound of your footsteps, but he’d been too far into his head to notice.

“Yes, darling?”

He asked, the tone of his voice reflecting yours in its quiet manner.

“I’m just wondering if you’re alright? I’ve called your name a few times and you haven’t answered.”

You replied. Despite keeping your voice light, he can tell by the slight frown and the furrow of your eyebrows you’re more concerned than you're letting on. Sighing deeply with resignation, he closes the book with a soft snap and sets it aside. 

“I’m just feeling… I’m not sure. Down, I suppose.”

He answers, voice tainted with melancholy. You look even more concerned. A part of him wishes he didn’t worry you over trivial things. But how could he ever resist your questioning of his well-being?

You walk over to him and sit down on the arm of the chair. Running a hand into the long curls of his hair to scratch at his scalp. He hums and closes his eyes, leaning back into your soothing touch.

“Anything I can do to help?’

You ask and he breathes out through his nose with a shake of his head.

“Not sure there’s much you can do, but… stay?”

Andrew replies, aware his tone sounds dangerously close to needy. But you only smile and nod. Sating any insecurities he has as you continue to massage his scalp. 

He hums contently once more, letting his head rest against your hand. The warm light of the room throws shadows over his face and the pale lines of his neck. Shrouding the valleys in darkness and the highlights with warmth. Turning the sharpness of his cheekbones all the more prominent if that's possible. 

Leaning down, you leave a few kisses over his cheekbones. The feeling of warm breath against his face forces a smile to his lips. He turns his head, capturing your lips against his. Your kiss is like a balm on his apathy, replacing it with passion. Your free hand cups the side of his face. Feeling the gentle scratch of facial hair against your palm that’s also felt on your chin. The feeling lures you closer. Pressing into the space between his and your bodies until you’re straddling one of his legs. Lost in the velvety sensation of lips and tongues against each other. You break it off first. Ignited with one simple idea. 

“Let me make you feel better, yeah?”

You prompt, in a lowered, raspier voice. He looks up at you with blown pupils, green irises dark. Shining hot in the orange light from the lamp. He breathes out. Like he can’t believe you’re real. And nods eagerly.

“Please… do what you’d like.”

His breathless agreement makes you smile and melt a bit, moving his head to get access to his throat. A soft sound leaves his mouth as you kiss over the thin skin. Breath hitching when your tongue follows along the groves of his veins. He’s so goddamn sensitive. He has to hold back a few noises, the heat of your breathing brushing over his neck. Goosebumps appear over his arms. He’s becoming more and more aware of your every move.

Andrew lets out a loud groan that he quickly cuts off in embarrassment. A response to the dragging of your teeth over the base of his neck where it meets his shoulder. The skin beneath your lips flushes a pink color. You snicker in response to the noise, and he huffs in irritation.

“It’s okay, I wanna hear you. I wanna know you’re enjoying it. You sound absolutely gorgeous, but that’s no surprise.”

You murmur to him, rubbing his side to subdue his unease. You know he’s listening because the muscles relax beneath your hand. He lets out another moan as you nibble, turning the skin a pale red.

It’s not long before you’ve scattered similar-looking bites over his neck. By the time you’re getting his sweater off Andrew is breathing a little heavier, sweat building on the back of his flushed neck. 

His chest stutters watching you sink to your knees in front of the armchair. Eyes hooded and darkened.

“Just lie back, baby, and I’ll cure all those blues.”

You direct, and he does as you say. His mouth is too dry to try and come up with a sassy reply to your somewhat cheesy line. Not like that would matter anyway. All thought disappears from his head when your mouth lands on his chest. Kissing, licking, sucking down his sternum. Your lips wrapping around one of his nipples has him debating whether or not to beg for mercy. Airless moans slip from his lips without time nor thought to stop them. 

“Fuckin’ Hell, darling. That’s so good.”

Andrew hisses, voice rough, Irish accent thickened, words a little slurred. His hands running into your hair. Using whatever is there to try and get a grip. Large palms grasping at the back of your skull. He can’t help but pull when you tug on his nipple, forcing a quiet moan from your lips.

“Shit, sorry.”

He apologizes in a way that would sound regretful if it wasn’t husky with arousal. You laugh in response to him jerking under your mouth when you suck softly. Your way of telling him it’s okay. 

After giving Andrew’s nipple a bit more attention, just to hear him whine a few more times. And then start slowly kissing down his stomach. Feeling every little twitch and breath beneath your mouth. 

“Darling, please, please, stop teasing.”

There it is, the pleads for mercy. He’s practically whimpering. His voice becomes tight. A struggle for control. You grant his wish, hands moving to his belt. There’s a large bulge beneath his jeans, straining against the fabric. God, that must be uncomfortable, you can feel the heat from here. 

Eventually, with a bit of moving around, you manage to pull his jeans and boxers off. Freeing his cock from the confines of his clothes. It arches up towards his stomach with a surprising stiffness, considering you haven’t even been touching him for that long. He’s decently above average in length. To the point it burns a little to take, but not ridiculously so. The tip is a deep red, swelled with a desperation to be touched. 

Andrew shoots a hand from your hair to the arm of the chair. Gripping it with a hiss when he feels the brush of your breath over the sensitive skin. His cock twitches, the two prominent veins along the bottom throbbing. You decide not to make him wait any longer. Wrapping a hand around the shaft. Andrew looks down at you with hungry eyes alight with reverence, studying your every move. 

“God- fucking, yes.”

Andrew gasps in pleasured relief, a moan quickly following when you start stroking the length of his shaft, giving every inch an equal amount of attention. Just barely touching the tip to tease him. To watch his cravings become unbearable. At first, he accepts the simple touch, relishing in finally having friction on his cock. However, it soon becomes too little and he starts rocking his hips into your hand, eager for more. Slender thighs flexing with the movement. Light shining over his jutting hip bones. He’s absolutely stunning from this angle, chest heaving as he squirms. A thin sheen of sweat glistening over the bridge of his nose and high cheekbones. A stark contrast to the darkness of his neatly trimmed beard. 

“Babe-”

Andrew starts, his words sounding more like a gasp of breath. 

“Fine, I’ll be nice.” 

You relent, not wanting to torture him too much. Dragging your hand over the weeping head, Andrew moans and sinks his fingernails into the arm of the chair. His other hand cupping the back of your neck, trying his best not to grip or pull. You circle your thumb around the very tip of his cock, over the most sensitive glands. Andrew practically whimpers because of it. Legs jerking, he throws his head back. Eyes squeezed shut. Showing off all those pink love bites you left over his throat.

“Yes, just like that. Keep going.”

Andrew manages in that sweet, unsteady voice. It’s like he can’t get enough air into his lungs, caught between moaning and whining. He thrusts his hips into your hand which moves up and down the entire length of his dick. A focused attention with a twist of your wrist over the head. Andrew isn’t the only one getting impatient. You’re interested in doing much more than just a handjob. 

So, when your impatience gets to be too much, you duck your head and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. Causing a high-pitched noise of surprise from the man above. There’s an even sharper noise as you press your tongue against the bottom and suck. Pulling precum from his eagerness. The tangy and sharp taste coating your tastebuds, sticking to your tongue. It fills your senses, nearly overwhelming the musky scent of Andrew’s arousal. 

“Let me see your eyes, please. Look at me.”

Andrew urges, his voice higher than normal. Looking up at him, his eyes meet yours. And he responds like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. His lips parted, looking down at you with warmth in his eyes. His entire dick throbbing with your gaze on his. 

“God, you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.”

He gasps out. His hand letting go of the armchair and brushing the hair away from your face. So he can see all of you properly. 

“So, so pretty down there.”

Andrew continues in a murmur, the pleasure of seeing you drives his ecstasy even higher. He gently moves slightly further into your mouth, hungry for more of the warm pleasure, more than what your hand is giving him. You welcome him, slowly working his cock deeper into your mouth. Jaw stretching to accommodate until it nearly aches. Your tongue cradles the underside. 

He moans lowly, running fingers over your scalp. The warm and wet feeling of your mouth wrapping around his cock causes his entire body to shiver. Pleasure bolting up his spine. He nearly becomes lightheaded with the rush of blood, cheeks flushing a bright red against the paleness of the rest of his skin. 

The more you take, the more difficult it is to breathe. Andrew stops you for a moment,  letting you take a breath. He caresses your jaw with the backs of his fingers, helping it relax out. 

“Just go slow, breathe through your nose.”

He speaks in a calmly commanding voice. Forcing you to stay in your moment of pause for a few seconds longer before letting you continue. You follow his introductions and breathe through your nose, taking measured breaths as you sink further. Until tears gather in your eyes when the tip of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Pushing at your gag reflex. 

A pleasured rumble sounds in Andrew’s chest. Vibrating back through your bones. He continues stroking your jaw, making sure you can take every inch.  

“That’s good. You’re doing so well, baby. Start moving if you want.”

Andrew says, trying his best to keep his composure so his desire doesn’t get the better of him. It nearly does when you start moving achingly slow up and down the length of his dick. Your mouth is so consumingly tempting, hot and wet and just perfect. Both a gift and a curse. Luring Andrew to near madness with how good it feels. He’s speechless, wordless. Stuck in this version of heaven. You’ve got him absolutely hooked. Even more so when you start to move faster. Suck harder. Letting saliva drip down your chin and glisten on your skin the way it does on his cock.  

“Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this. Your so skilled, so absolutely, fucking wonderful.”

He groans behind his clenched teeth. Resisting the urge to bury himself even deeper into your mouth. You struggle to move faster. Gagging on his cock when it hits your reflex. Andrew looks down at you, noticing your struggle. He gently pulls on your hair. Guiding you off his cock.

“It’s alright, let me help you, okay?”

He asks, but it’s less of a suggestion and more of a command if you want to keep going. You nod in agreement. 

“Yeah, okay.”

Andrew takes a careful hold of your hair, holding your head in place as he brings his hips closer to your mouth. The tip of his cock brushes your lips, it’s so red it’s almost purple. Eager and more than ready to slip back into your mouth.

“Ready?”

He asks one more time and you answer affirmatively again. He accepts this and nudges his dick slowly past your parted lips. Guiding himself back into the heat of your mouth. It’s wet, soft and very, very hot. He waits a moment for you to get used to it once more. Before starting to move. Using your hair to move you up and down. His hips rocking forwards into your mouth. His breath hitching as he feels your teeth gaze him. His thighs clasp either side of your head, knees almost on top of your shoulders.

“That’s it, let me help you. Just like this.”

Andrew praises in a tone that does nothing to conceal how good it feels. Carefully thrusting his cock in and out of your already sore throat. You’re so sweet, letting him do this. Willing to take apart every piece of him and put it back together. It’s something only you can do for him. Yet he’s sure you could do it for anyone. 

“God, that’s just right. You’re doing such a good job. You’re an angel.”

He manages, voice trembling. He rocks his hips faster. Guiding you to suck harder. Feeling every ridge moving back and forth across your tongue. The head is just barely nudging the back of your throat. Andrew is gasping, moaning above you like he’s never experienced something quite so amazing in his life. Something beyond any man’s wildest dreams.

His cock twitches in your mouth. His ecstasy reaching higher and higher. To the point his thighs are trembling, skin highlighted pink with exertion (is that how you spell it? idk). You look up at him. Admiring the way his features are painted with pleasure. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed shut. His long hair is messy and falling into his flushed face. There’s strands sticking to the sides of his face and neck with the thin sheen of sweat on his skin. Droplets slide down his collarbones and disappear into his sweater. 

He jerks his cock a little deeper on accident. Coming closer and closer to his finish. Causing you to gag. He opens his eyes with an apology on his lip. But you grasp his hips, pulling him closer. You shove down your gag reflex so you can take him all the way. Tears gathering on your waterline. He takes the hint with widened eyes of surprise and adoration. Carefully thrusting his cock into the depths of your throat, he groans loudly with pleasure. Both hands sinking into and grabbing on your hair. 

Your nose brushes his pelvis. The smell of musk filling your nose. An almost sweet, earthy scent coming from him. You make eye contact through blurry eyes. Andrew’s breath stutters, his legs tensing by the sides of your head. 

“Fuck- darling, so good. I’m gonna- shit. I’m gonna cum in your mouth. Do you want that? Do you want me to cum into your mouth?”

He asks, his words broken and stuttering. Almost failing at forming a sentence entirely. You nod the best you can. Tears and spit running down your face. He moans at your agreement. Somehow feeling hotter and even more aroused by it. 

Andrew thrusts his hips into your mouth. Pushing how much you can take as he chases his high. It’s not more than a minute of nearly reckless movements before he’s cumming into your mouth just as he said he would. His back arching into it as his legs shudder. He moans loudly from the bottom of his chest. His mouth hanging open. Head thrown back with his eyes rolled back into his skull. Shooting warm, thick cum into your mouth. The salty and bitter taste overwhelming your senses, but one you could taste over and over again. You groan around his cock. Causing his legs to jump as he feels the vibrations. 

He pants, remaining motionless in his recovery. His brain needed a moment to recover before piecing itself back together and pulling out of your mouth. There’s a lopsided, still half-gone smile on his face as he looks down at you. Humming happily as you swallow his cum. 

“You’re so amazing, baby.”

Andrew compliments breathlessly. Moving his hands to cup your cheeks and brush the tears away.

“I’m so, so proud of you. Come on, get off your knees.”

The tenderness of his voice is so beautiful. His actions even more so, helping you up off the floor. And positioning you on one of his thighs. 

“Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough with you?” 

He questions, his worries calming when you shake your head. Still recovering yourself.

“Good… can I return the favor?”

Thank you so much for reading my first fic 🫶, any constructive criticism is appreciated. I’m going to go do the school work I’ve been procrastinating over to do this instead now. Hopefully, the next fic won’t take over a month to write and I’ll be more active.

-Thad 💚

[lortsyall]

Echoes of Eywa's Child.

chapter 1.

(Neteyam x Human!Reader series)

Pending....Pending....

Date: December 21st,2170.

Location: Office,Unit 4,Avatar Department,Human Outpost Biolab,Hallelujah Mountains,Pandora.

Time: 10:15 AM.

A long time has passed since I've known about this once alien planet. 4.4 light years away,a world full of life,like a lost paradise,sat idly in silence,away from the death and destruction that has scattered over Earth like a goddamn plague.

The ones before us saw the danger of it all,and yet they turned a blind eye,all because the climate change and the fractures in the atmosphere caused by the heightened levels of carbon dioxide wouldn’t affect them in the long run. They’d be dead anyway by the time it got too serious. So much for doing the right thing.

I wasn’t even born when they discovered Pandora,though until I actually got a grasp of reality and gained consciousness like everybody does at 5 years old,I’ve actually wondered if the so-called “Goldilocks Zone” existed somewhere else. If God smiled upon the universe and gave another planet the privilege of life.

Trust me,I have no idea how I even got here. So much time has passed since I’ve breathed in the polluted air of Earth,but I guess it’s for the benefit of all.

Guess we'll do it like they always do,huh?Start from the beginning of it all.

Pending...Pending...

Date: January 26th,2170

Location: Home,New York,USA, Earth.

Time: 12:43 PM.

Nobody ever thought that a girl like me would end up the head leader of the Avatar Department,or an important person in the Resistance. And I gotta say,I never quite imagined myself becoming this. I dreamt of stages full of fans,as my fingers gave birth to heart-shattering riffs. Of poetry books released under my very own name,painting the pages with complicated feelings and sensations,all of a broken and imperfect human heart. Of having my own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame,making my country proud as a well known actress overseas. Though all those dreams were scattered away,like a feather in the wind,the moment I decided to do what any other scared yet artistically talented person who wants to make her parents proud does.

I got into STEM. Mechanical and Biological Engineering.

And between the sleepless nights of studying,drowning myself in math equations and lab reports,I got a one-way ticket to Pandora in my first year of college,from the one and only Parker Selfridge. Head administrator of the RDA’s operation in Pandora. I can still feel the anxiety lingering on my tongue. They never came with internships for first years,so what was he here for?

He came in to give out 5 internships at my college,yet he left with a new potential piece for this chess game. Me. All thanks to a question he asked that I knew the answer of. And to think I almost didn't say the answer because I thought everyone knew it,but as it turns out,only I did. I sat in the hallway with my friends,staring dumbfoundedly at the bussiness card he gave me.

Only back then,the RDA were treated as heroes,important people who made way for a better life. For an undead Earth. The propaganda was all enough to trick a little mind like mine,though it’s funny how I always thought I was a step ahead of everyone. Life on Earth as I remember it was,to say the least…grey.

The cities were gray. The people were gray. The sky was…well,grey. And between spending the rest of my life here,with my dreams crumbling before my very own eyes,and going out there to actually fight for a new home for humanity,you can guess why I chose the latter.

Nothing out of the ordinary was happening for me here anyway. Gorgeous girl,great personality,they all said,but nobody ever settled. Nobody ever stopped in their tracks to take in the pure and total beauty of the chaos that is me,so I never had a serious partner before. And…I guess I was also excited to see if the stories are true.

How an actual human betrayed his own race for a…Na’vi tribe princess?At least that’s how they put it,and I don’t even want to mention how embarrassing it was for the RDA to come back to Earth with their tails between their legs back in 2154. No unobtanium. No money. No Avatars. No nothing. I was three when that happened,and I remember playing with my cousins with our cardboard toys as our parents watched the TV in confusion and…disappointment,so you can guess why they made Jake Sully seem like an actual demon,and the death of a colonel was a pretty big deal,after all.

Thing is,the RDA only shows you the pearl in their hands,and not the mouth getting ready to swallow you whole. And now I know why they were so understaffed. That total failure after 2154 made people lose trust in the RDA over the years. But to me?

The decision came easily. I needed something new

What didn’t,though,was the pure work I’d have to do in just 6 months. Learning the language of the natives,the Na’vi. Getting to understand the differences between our anatomy and theirs. The fauna and flora. The tribes. The ecosystems. And…of course,Eywa herself,though I learned that from Dr. Grace Augustine’s botany books,not from the RDA’s training program. I honestly don’t know what Selfridge saw in me,when I know I have friends better in college than me,but I better not question it too much.

I tried telling myself that as soon as I got in cryo,it wouldn’t be a goodbye,rather a…see you later. Looking back at it now,I think it was just wishful thinking. For now,I was me,the girl nobody ever really took seriously. Just another face in a sea of others. Next time I wake up,I’d have to work in an entire department with people twice my age.

——————————————————————

The cryo-sleep thaw was a nightmare and a miracle all at once. My lungs burned as they dragged in air for the first time in six years, my throat raw and dry, every breath tasting metallic. My joints ached as if I’d aged a century.

“Subject revived.” the sterile voice of the AI announced, flat and emotionless. I tried sitting up, only to slump back down against the cryo pod’s restraints. My body wasn’t mine yet—not entirely.

“You’ll feel like shit for a while,” said a woman in a crisp lab coat, her voice muffled as she checked my vitals. “Side effects of long-term cryo. It’ll pass. Welcome to the ISV Valkyrie, and congrats on making it to Pandora.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and surreal. Pandora.

The next few hours were a blur of debriefings and medical checkups. My body eventually began to cooperate, but my mind lagged behind. I shuffled through endless corridors with other groggy personnel, each of us too stunned to speak. We were like ghosts wandering through a ship that pulsed with life—technicians barking orders, holograms buzzing with real-time scans of the moon’s surface, the low hum of engines preparing for atmospheric descent.

When the ship finally broke through Pandora’s atmosphere, I felt it in my chest. The vibrations reverberated through every bolt, every panel, and through me. The world outside the viewport was alive. The dense, green forests sprawled endlessly beneath the floating Hallelujah Mountains, their bases wreathed in ethereal clouds. The sky shifted from pink to blue in the blink of an eye, its colors alien yet breathtakingly familiar.

For a moment, the hum of engines and the chatter of voices faded away. It was just me and the sight of this strange, beautiful moon—a place that could have been paradise if we weren’t here to ruin it.

The ship landed with a jarring shudder, and the real work began.

——————————————————————

Adjusting to life on Pandora was like learning to breathe all over again. Everything about this place demanded respect—the gravity was lighter, the air richer, and the biology... unfathomable. Days blurred into weeks as I threw myself into the work at the Avatar Department.

My mornings began with syncing sessions in the link pods, my mind slipping into my Avatar body like stepping into a cold pool. It wasn’t seamless—at first, every movement felt foreign. I stumbled through training exercises, my longer legs and stronger muscles betraying me at every turn. But slowly, the body became mine.

Afternoons were spent reading over files on Na’vi biology, studying their neural networks and learning their language. The words felt clumsy on my tongue, but I persisted. When I wasn’t in the lab or out on field assignments to observe Pandora’s ecosystems, I was immersed in RDA briefings.

That’s where I first heard his name again.

Jake Sully.

The briefings spoke of him like a ghost, a legend who had long since passed into myth. But here, his name was a warning.

“Resistance forces led by Sully attacked the rail line near Sector 7 again,” one of the military officers growled during lunch at the canteen. “Three shipments of amp suits lost. That bastard and his little insurgents are crippling our operations.”

The room buzzed with tension as reports of attacks piled up. Sabotaged trains, stolen supplies, and destroyed equipment—it was chaos. To the RDA, Sully wasn’t just a traitor. He was the personification of everything standing in the way of their plans.

But the more I learned, the more conflicted I felt. The propaganda painted him as a terrorist, a man who had betrayed his own kind for a primitive cause. But every whisper I caught from the scientists who had been here longer told a different story.

“Maybe Sully isn’t the villain they make him out to be,” I muttered to Dr. Ellison one evening as we worked late in the lab.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable as he pointed towards a CCTV with his head,as if to say "Shut up. They're listening."

"That’s dangerous talk,you know. Keep your head down. Do your work. They don't like questions.”

I nodded, but the seed of doubt had already taken root.

——————————————————————

The attacks continued, each one more brazen than the last. The RDA ramped up their operations in response, sending more troops and machinery into the wilds of Pandora. But for every move they made, the Resistance seemed to be one step ahead.

And then there was the tension between the people I worked with. Some were diehard loyalists, determined to see the mission succeed no matter the cost. Others—mostly the scientists—spoke in hushed tones about the beauty of the Na’vi culture, the interconnectedness of the flora and fauna, and the destruction we were bringing to this world.

I kept my head down, just as Ellison had warned. But at night, as I lay in my bunk staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but wonder: which side of history would I be on?

Pandora had a way of getting under your skin. The longer I stayed, the more I realized it wasn’t just a place. It was a mirror, reflecting humanity’s best and worst instincts back at us. And somewhere in the middle of it all was me—a girl who had come here for a fresh start, only to find herself caught in a war she didn’t fully understand.

The attacks became more than background noise; they became a constant undercurrent to life on Pandora. At first, they were just distant explosions, reports in the briefing room, or muttered curses from the military personnel in the mess hall. But over time, the Resistance started to feel like a presence, a shadow that loomed over everything the RDA tried to accomplish.

Jake Sully wasn’t just a name anymore—he was a force of nature.

The first time I felt the Resistance's impact directly was during a supply run. It was supposed to be routine—a quick trip to outpost Beta-5 to deliver Avatar-linked monitoring equipment. I was tagging along as part of my training, mostly to observe.

But the Resistance didn’t care about schedules or safety zones.

The attack was fast and chaotic. One moment, the AMP suits ahead of us were trudging through the dense forest, their movements mechanical and predictable. The next, arrows rained down from the trees, followed by explosions that sent the towering machines toppling like broken toys.

The ambush hit like a storm—sudden, violent, and unstoppable.

One moment, I was riding in the back of the supply truck, surrounded by crates of equipment and two guards sharing a nervous laugh. The next, the forest erupted in chaos.

The first explosion flipped the lead AMP suit, its towering frame crashing to the ground with a deafening roar. The convoy came to an abrupt halt as arrows rained down from the trees, their sharp points glinting like falling stars.

“Get down!” someone yelled.

I hit the truck bed hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. My mask rattled against the metal floor as I scrambled for cover behind a crate. The world around me dissolved into a cacophony of gunfire, shouting, and the eerie war cries of the Na’vi.

The guards fired blindly into the trees, their exo-packs hissing as they struggled to maintain their aim under the pressure. I peeked over the edge of the crate just in time to see one of the AMP suits stagger, an arrow embedded in its cockpit.

Panic set in. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst. I wasn’t a soldier. I wasn’t trained for this. My human body was fragile here—one wrong move, and I’d be dead.

I clutched the sidearm they’d insisted I carry, though my hands were shaking too much to use it. What was I even doing here? This wasn’t supposed to be my fight.

A shadow passed overhead. My breath hitched as I looked up to see a Na’vi warrior leaping from a tree, his bow drawn, his movements impossibly fluid. He landed on the roof of the truck with barely a sound, his golden eyes scanning the scene below.

And then, those eyes locked onto me.

——————————————————————

For a moment, the chaos of the ambush melted away, leaving only silence between us.

He stood above me, perched on the edge of the truck’s roof, silhouetted against the glowing forest. His figure was tall and commanding, every line of his body taut with a warrior’s grace. The flickering bioluminescence of the nearby trees played off his skin, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his lean, muscular frame.

His face was angular and strong, the high cheekbones and sharp jawline unmistakably Na’vi, yet there was something softer in his expression. His golden eyes, large and luminous, fixed on me with an intensity that felt like a physical force. They weren’t filled with rage or cruelty but something far more unnerving—calculated curiosity, as though he were trying to read my soul in that single moment.

The streaks of blue war paint decorating his face didn’t fully mask the smooth, rich azure of his skin, which gleamed faintly under the pale light of Pandora’s twin moons. His braids, adorned with small beads and feathers, swayed gently with each subtle movement, a testament to the culture he carried with him like armor.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that struck me—it was his presence.

He radiated confidence, a quiet power that demanded attention without arrogance. It was the kind of aura that made the world around him seem smaller, less significant. The chaos raging around us felt like a distant hum compared to the weight of his gaze.

And yet, beneath that commanding presence, there was something deeper—an unmistakable grief, perhaps, or a burden that someone so young should never have to carry. It was in the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth, and the way his hands gripped the bow with both precision and purpose.

“Drop it,” he said, his voice deep and steady, but with a softness that caught me off guard.

The words hit me like a command, though they weren’t barked or shouted. It was the tone of someone who expected to be obeyed—not out of fear, but respect.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. The sidearm in my trembling hands felt heavier than it should, as if the very act of holding it was a betrayal. His gaze flicked to the weapon, then back to me, and I realized with a jolt that he wasn’t looking at me like an enemy. He was looking at me like a question.

“You are… different,” he said, tilting his head slightly, the movement as fluid and deliberate as everything else about him. His accent curled around the words, each syllable infused with the lyrical cadence of his native tongue.

I wanted to speak, to ask him what he meant, but my throat felt dry, my voice lost in the weight of the moment.

He crouched slightly, lowering himself onto one knee so we were nearly at eye level. Even then, his presence dwarfed mine. Up close, the details became sharper—the faint patterns of his skin, the slight twitch of his ears as they picked up the sounds of the battle behind him, the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“You do not fight,” he observed, the faintest hint of curiosity threading through his words. His eyes lingered on mine, their golden glow unwavering. “And you… fear.”

It wasn’t an accusation. It was a statement of fact, delivered with neither judgment nor malice.

His hand shifted slightly, and I flinched, but he didn’t reach for me. Instead, he pointed at the weapon still lying on the ground between us.

The Na’vi reacted instantly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet with startling gentleness.

“You do not belong here,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Run.”

“What—”

“Go!”

He released me and darted back into the fray, moving with the grace of a predator and the determination of someone who had everything to lose.

I didn’t run. Not immediately. Instead, I crouched behind the truck, my legs trembling as I watched the battle unfold.

He moved like the forest itself, blending into the chaos with a skill that seemed almost supernatural. He wasn’t just fighting—he was leading. The other Na’vi warriors followed his signals, their coordinated strikes overwhelming the RDA forces.

For every bullet fired, they had an arrow. For every shout of anger, they answered with a battle cry that sent chills down my spine.

And yet, amidst the violence, there was something strangely... noble about them. They didn’t kill indiscriminately. They targeted the machines, the vehicles, the weapons. It was as if they were trying to make a point rather than simply annihilate us.

When the ambush finally ended, the Resistance had melted back into the forest, leaving behind a convoy in ruins. Smoke rose from the wreckage, and the air was thick with the smell of burning fuel.

I stumbled out from behind the truck, my legs barely holding me up. Around me, the survivors were regrouping, their faces pale and shell-shocked.

“Medic!” someone called, dragging a wounded soldier from the wreckage.

But I couldn’t move. My mind was stuck on him—the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d spared me when he could have easily ended my life.

“You do not belong here,” he’d said.

The words echoed in my head as I stared at the destruction around me. For the first time, I began to wonder if he was right.

[turtlesandfrogs]

Things I like about self employment:

Ostensibly setting my own schedule (realistically I'm too much of a people pleaser and need to actually give myself weekends)

Huge variety of work

Get to do work for people who can't afford the more expensive options

Don't have to do things that I think are stupid just because my boss thinks that's a good idea

Things I do not like:

the seasonality of yard care

I have to do a lot of phone calls, texts, and emails.

Scheduling

I have to decide when it's too hot, too cold, too dark, or too smoky & to hot to work

Having a limited number of clients and having to juggle between having too many clients during the busy times and not enough work during the slow times

Things I like about being an employee:

I show up and start thinking about the job, I clock out and stop thinking about the job

I don't have to do any client communication or scheduling

They paid for awesome rain gear

My bosses are actually like, good humans and they also hav ADHD, so my stress levels are the lowest they've been since I was like, 16

They have to offer me work time even when it's the dead of winter and there's nothing to do, mwha-ha-ha!!!

Things I do not like about being an employee:

40 hour work week. Bleh.

Not convinced that putting in pretty gardens for rich people (seriously, each garden we do cost usually between 1 and 4 times my yearly income) is actually in line with my values regarding sustainability and making the world a better place.

The work is much less varied

We occasionally work for people who are blatant about seeing us as "the help"

That one lady

Occasionally have to do very stupid things, like digging up an established (though small- about 10 feet tall) maple tree and moving it 6 feet for aesthetic reasons. Like, yeah, I get it, it does look more whatever over there but damn. Really?

In contrast, things I think I will like about running a plant nursery that focuses on native plants, herbs, and plants from similar climatic zones:

setting my own schedule and making sure I have weekends

Huge variety of plants that I think make the world better for existing

Get to grow plants both for gardening enthusiasts and landscapers, so interacting with passionate people all the time AND meaningfully increasing habitat for native animals.

Don't have to do anything I think is stupid

Still seasonal, but options for indoor work!!!

No scheduling with other people, they gotta come when the stores open

Less communications work

Things I won't like:

will be thinking about the plants/job a lot during non-paid hours because that's how I am

Plastic, but I think I have a way to make sure I'm not generating more, just using stuff that already exists

I will probably be stressed about the growth of the plants both while I have them and once they've left my hands

Lots of people with lots of opinons about how I'm doing things wrong

[eesmot]

Des302 Blog - Week 7 & 8 - Sunday 22nd September

The last couple of weeks since returning since Mid-semester break have seen my capstone project undergo a great deal of change once again. This blog will cover those changes and my thoughts, feelings, and reflection on the events through the ol’ trustworthy, What? So What? Now what? reflective model. There is a lot to cover. 

What? 

I had changed my idea in Week 6 to the playground. So Week 7 on return from Mid Sem break saw me continue to flesh out that idea. I also toyed with doing my other big idea for a while but decided that the playground concept was stronger. I decided that Albert Park would be the setting for my concept, as it is one of Auckland’s central parks, steeped in history, but lacking a playground unlike most of Auckland’s other big parks. So I did research into Albert Park, learning about its diverse history. I wanted the cultural and environmental heritage of the space to be imbued into the final design of my playground.

Fig 1. Albert Park Research

Note: My Miro board with relevant research into the history of Albert Park.

Moving into Week 8 I had finalised this research and refreshed myself on 3d modelling as that is how I want to display my final product, so that took a day in doing a refresher course on Blender. I mapped out potential spots for the playground in Albert Park, basing the sizing off the square meterage of other prominent playgrounds in Auckland’s Parks. Following this I mapped out the sizes of typical playground elements, how many each playground had, and researched into visuals and other artful, climate based, modern playground. I also collated a range of inspirations I wanted to place into my playground. However, I then visited Albert Park scouting out the viability of the potential spaces I had marked and had the eureka moment that has prompted me to change my idea for a third and final time. I realised that Albert Park didn’t suit a playground but had perfect potential for a large-scale installation, that could change the perception of rain, bring communities together, and provide shelter for increasingly varied weather due to climate change. Following this I planned out what this would look like, how it would be inspired. Essentially, the idea is to build a massive tree in the centre of Albert Park. Replacing the British imported fountain. This tree would act as a shelter from the rain, altering the perceptions of weather that is going to be all the more common, and is often associated with negative feelings. This space can be a location for students and young people alike to socialise, study, and play. It is referential to the climate, the heritage of the space, and the environment. 

Fig 2. Mapping out playground sizes and inspiration.

Fig 3. Field research, zoning, and planning of new idea interior.

Fig 4. Inspiration, planning, and notation.

Notes: All from the Week 8 section of my Miro Board.

 So what?

The past two weeks have invited a lot more stress on me, but I also feel so much better about this idea. I finally feel like it is an idea that really excites me and gets me feeling the way I want to from design. Of course, there is a huge time crush now, but I was already behind with my previous idea, it is more of a sideways move than a backwards one, I don’t think I have really invited any more work on myself. I just have to 3D model and refine the concept now. I think what this has shown is how much physical field research gets my creative juices flowing. I was walking around Albert Park with my friend Zoann at the time, we were just bouncing ideas off each other when the new idea came to me. I think this is an aspect I have neglected this semester, whether it be due to attendance or lack of closeness to people in my cohort. Just talking about my work with people, particularly in the actual space it is planned for, is so beneficial and really helps me visualise and get excited about the ideas I am coming up with. Going forward I need to bring out this side so much more often, all my best inspiration and ideas this semester have come when I share and talk with other creatives. 

Now what?

In future I need to continue to pursue this peer/colleague engagement wherever I can, and preferably build up a rapport with these potential collaborators so that I best feel comfortable sharing and critiquing ideas that come up. Furthermore, I have continued to realise the value of field research and actually physically going and seeing things rather than just reading them or seeing them on Google or through Pinterest and other similar platforms. The value of seeing spaces and inspiration in person seems to be far more beneficial for me. 

[just-a-wondrous-wanderer]

When I Turn A Year Older

It was once just a dream, a hope, a prayer, until I turned 25.

At 24, I took my first international trip to Bangkok using my personal money.

I treated my family to out-of-town birthdays, staying at a 5-star hotel with savings we could only jokingly daydream about years ago.

I visited a country with a cold climate, where I wore the dream outfit of thick coats I once manifested in middle school.

I had a spontaneous international trip with my cousins at 24, without worrying about money afterward.

I secured a VIP ticket to a Taylor Swift concert at 24, a dream since 2008.

I met amazing people at 24, learning so much and being inspired.

I experienced the hope of love and attention, making me reconsider opening my doors to trust.

And then I turned 25.

They say that at 25, our frontal lobe fully develops, making us think wiser and create better decisions.

I really hope so.

At 25, I am still figuring out how to make my future better.

I started learning to prioritize peace, happiness, health, and financial freedom.

At 25, I value myself more than I did years before.

I'm still planning my travel bucket list.

I'm learning to set boundaries and not be a pathological people pleaser.

I willingly prioritize collecting and building happy memories with my parents and sister.

I'm learning to step out of my comfort zone and face things that intimidated me for years, like going to the gym.

I've become more open about expressing my thoughts and myself.

I'm learning to accept that sometimes a connection, no matter how compatible, may still not work out.

I'm learning to embrace the idea that people come and go.

I'm still learning to remind myself occasionally of what I deserve, not settling for a "just for the sake" kind of idea.

I'm learning that my dreams should always be bigger than longing for someone's attention.

I'm still braving the idea of leaving a room when it no longer serves me healthily.

At 25, I still get lonely, scared, anxious, but the difference is I know fully that eventually, everything will get better.

And when I turn a year older,

I hope to be more specific with what I want.

I hope to achieve my dream Airbnb business and have our own house, my own house, and drive my car using my hard-earned money.

I hope to continue spoiling my family with what they deserve.

I hope to maintain my main real friends.

I hope to be firm with my boundaries and inspire people.

I hope to continue traveling to many beautiful places.

I hope to still center God in everything I do.

I hope not to feel pressured by society's timeline standards.

I hope to experience love like I've witnessed in my friends and on-screen, to feel taken care of and pursued by quiet signs of love in romantic ways without asking for it.

I hope to be the person I am manifesting today.

To be happier and calmer.

To be someone who considers kindness the most important trait.

To have just enough confidence to face any adversities and fears.

To be someone who still pours love into things I love to do and to people I consider special.

To be someone who cares about other people not for what they think but for the purpose of being empathetic.

To bloom into someone I should become.

And indeed, for the hope of it all.

[darklingichor]

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir **MAJOR SPOILERS**

So, this is a first, I've never written a revisit this fast.

I do often read or listen to an especially good book, again, right after I finish it. Usually because I can't get into another book until I do.

I did it with Lamb, and I did it with the Martian.

This one is going to be chock full of spoilers, I really want to analyze the main characters in this book, and I can't do that without going into details. This is why I marked the hell out of this.

Project Hail Mary is even better the second time around. This is often the case. Books are like soup. The leftovers from the fridge are often even better than when you had it the first time.

*SPOILERS* *SERIOUSLY SPOILERS TURN BACK NOW IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS BOOK* *SPOILERS* *THE REST OF THIS RAMBLE WILL RUIN THE BOOK* *SPOILERS*

Okay, so run down.

The book opens with our main character waking up to an annoying computer asking him basic math questions. This is detecting cognitive function, that's my guess anyway.

Our character quickly discovers a few things. First, he's in a room with robot arms tending to him, including unhooking him from various life support systems as it figures out that he is awake and functioning. He's not alone in the room, there are two others, but they are long dead. And he has no idea, who he is, where he is, or why he's there.

What follows for a little while is what I would call a psychological screwball comedy. It takes him several days to work out that his name is Ryland Grace and he is a microbiologist PhD who had a falling out with the academic community and found his calling as a Jr. High science teacher. Though exploration, experiments, and memory flashes, he works out that he is on a spaceship, the corpses were his crewmates, and he is on a mission to Tau Ceti to save earth from an alien algae like creature, called Astropgage, that is dimming the sun and setting earth on the course to an ice age that will begin to wipe out humanity in 30 years. Tau Ceti, which is 12 light years away from earth, is resistant to this energy sucking algae.

We get all the backstory of how he became a crew member aboard the ship Hail Mary, in flashbacks as his memories return. A big memory that returns? Project Hail Mary is a suicide mission, he will not be going home.

In the meantime, he is slowly trying to figure out how to save earth, while he does this, he sees a very weird spaceship and meets an intelligent alien being. This being (Grace calls him Rocky) comes from a world (Earid) that is in the same situation as Earth. Together, Grace and Rocky have to work out how to save both of their home worlds.

Ryland Grace is a complex character, he’s very very different from Mark Watney (I haven't read Artimis so I can't make comparisons to those characters).

The Martian points out that Astronauts are inherently noble, willing to risk their lives for science and a good cause.

Grace is not an astronaut. That's not to say that he isn't a good person, just that he is an average person. He can be all at once self-sacrificing and selfish.

Early on he is drafted into the research team on what would be called Astropgage as a science expert by Eva Strat, a woman in charge of figuring out what is going on and how to stop it.

Once he was released from his part in this research, he goes back to teaching, only to be struck by the fact that his students would be in their early forties when all hell breaks loose, and that they might die. He then goes back to Strat and demands to be part of the research again.

This back and forth happens a few times in the story. In fact, it becomes a big part of it. See, the crew of the Hail Mary were put into comas to ensure that they would not go nuts and kill each other on the 12 light-year (four years from their perspective) journey, a medical company discovered that 1 in 7000 people have the genes to survive long comas and still function when they wake up. Grace is one of those people, but he is not volunteering for this mission. It's not that he doesn't care, or even that he doesn't want to help, it's that he's scared. And who wouldn't be? But honestly? I think Grace has imposture syndrome and is generally very sensitive. He realized that his kids would suffer, after starting to teach a class, that speed him to become a part of Strat's team again. Events happen that lead him to being the only logical candidate for the science expert aboard the Hail Mary. He refused, Strat basically kidnaps him, sets the computer induce amnesia in only Grace and plunks him on board.

Before she does this, she harshly calls Grace out.

“Do you think I don’t know you, Dr. Grace?!” she yelled. “You’re a coward and you always have been. You abandoned a promising scientific career because people didn’t like a paper you wrote. You retreated to the safety of children who worship you for being the cool teacher. You don’t have a romantic partner in your life because that would mean you might suffer heartbreak. You avoid risk like the plague.” (pg. 392 Kindle Edition)

This all seems to be true, but we don't know Grace's full story. Other than a mention of one girlfriend in college, and brief mentions of friends, There is nothing in the book about his life before he started teaching. This could be because the amnesia has left those things fuzzy, but in my head, it's because he doesn't want to think about it. Maybe he had a bad family life, maybe he had *no* family life, maybe he had an early tragedy. Maybe he realized his short comings and that, no matter his talent, he just didn't have the temperament for acidemia.

He does like being the cool teacher, he does say he likes being looked up to, but this isn't necessarily a bad thing. He's a *good* teacher.

I had cool teachers before I switched to home school. They weren't all good. I had one that would literally just let us mess around during class because they didn't want to actually grade papers. Cool to a kid? Absolutely! Good for education? Not on your life.

Grace isn't like that, he loves science, he loves teaching, and the kids are learning.

He doesn't like animal testing, he's emotional at the fragility of humanity. In short, in his quiet way he loves life.

He leaves his comfort zone to be a part of Strat's team because he knows he's good at what he does and he couldn't look at his students and knowing they could die when he could help prevent it. That doesn't mean he thinks he will be Earth's savior, just that he can help.

He's unwilling to die.

Usually in books and movies, this translates to coward, but really? It's not. Most people wouldn't volunteer for a suicide mission, especially one this pressure filled. "So, we need you to go into a coma, go to a different solar system, save your whole species, and then kill yourselves so you won't starve to death. We good? Cool."

You can't fault a living being for wanting to live. Plus, the other crew members had time to think it through, really decide, make peace with the decision and *then* carry through with the training. Grace? He was given the training, but Strat always said it was for the science of the mission. She was a little like Dumbledore, in that she was training him in case he had to go, but never told him it was a possibility. When it became clear that he was the choice for the vacant spot, he was given less than five hours to decide, and then was told he had no choice.

He makes noble choices throughout the book, but that one choice was not his own, because Strat was given absolute power and used it absolutely.

I can't say that Strat is a villain, either. She was elected to save earth and given the power to cut through any red tape. Handed all this authority, she doesn't become corrupt, she uses this power ruthlessly, but always with the only goal being Save Earth, full stop, that's it. And even as Grace, understandably terrified, yells at her she tells him that she likes him, that she knows that he is a good man, that he will give this  his all. She doesn't *want* to send this unwilling and scared man on a suicide mission. She *has* to. Strat is also complex, she is not nonsense and is committed to her role in saving humanity. I like the reason she gives as to why, toward the end of the book. She got her undergrad degree in history. She takes to heart the old saying that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

The climate scientists and their models assumed survival based on the idea that all countries will work together for the common goal. However, Strat points out that history shows that that ideal scenario, is not likely to work. She says that most wars, up until very recently, were fought over food, and resulting in famine.  As the sun loses energy and crops fail, there will be wars, and they will be over food. And that is what she is desperately trying to avoid – the horror of history brought to the modern day.

I started as a history major, and history is interwoven into anthropology – I understand this perspective.

I am not going to get into politics, but I’ve experienced the agonizing frustration of watching history repeat itself, more than once in the last couple of years. Guessing at how something will probably go due to how something lines up with a similar event in the past and knowing that if someone in power would just listen it might turn out different, or that the eventual problems could at least be prepared for, and watch it happen anyway and everyone act surprised. It’s enough to make you pull your hair out.

Strat has the knowledge and the authority to act on it, I can’t say, that in her position I wouldn’t act the same way.

That is the major difference between Grace and Strat: viewpoint. By necessity of her position and by virtue of her education, she sees the big picture clearly, Grace, however, doesn’t. He’s a microbiologist, his entire career and education is looking closely at the small things and how they would translate to big things. He studies the universe by studying the smallest things in it. It is no surprise that he would need the smaller things to make the bigger things to snap into focus. When he was forced to start research on astrophage, it wasn’t until he was faced with the small scale (his kids could suffer) to make him see his part in the grand scheme of things. Strat is right, he does avoid risk, because he’s avoiding pain, he doesn’t let things in because he feels too much. Yes, the realization about the kids, puts steel in his spine, but not before he narrowly avoids a break down. For Grace, seeing Strat’s point of view, without being able to work it though to his scale, is like yelling at someone standing too close to a mountain for not being able to see the peak. It just can’t be done from where they are.

It makes me wonder, had Strat been up front with Grace, would he have willingly gone? It takes him a while to come around to the idea of helping the project in the first place. If he were told sooner, given some time, had been able to go home, and think, I feel like he would have gone. Something would have set him on the course. Maybe it would have been one of his former students, telling him about their plans for trying out for high school track, or going to college,  maybe he would have gone to his usual cafe for breakfast and found out that one of the waitresses had just gotten engaged, maybe he would be told these things and see the fear and desperate need to keep life as normal as possible in the person's eyes, and then he would decide, if, on the off chance  no one else could go, he would. Until he remembers his refusal, nearly at the end of the book, he accepts quickly that he volunteered for the mission. Of course, that could have been simply because he couldn't imagine someone forcing someone into something like that, but even as his memories and sense of self come back to him, he doesn't have a sense of terror or blind panic at the fact that he's not going home. I would think that if his unwillingness were something hard wired into his personality, he would know soon after remembering who he is, that he would have never considered being a part of the voyage.

So, I think, had Strat told Grace early on that he had the coma resistant genes and that there was a small possibility that he may have to be the backup for the backup, and then allowed him to come to terms with it, he would have gone without the drama. Don’t get me wrong, there is the possibility that he would have run off and had to have been hunted down, but I think, just like when he went to his class and saw his students, something would have made his conscious kick in, and he would have come back.

That might have been interesting, him running scared for a little while and then coming back? Might have given a little more background into why he is the way he is. But that’s not really what this book is about, I think it’s a forgone about conclusion that Grace would have helped, but what’s really interesting is how Grace and Rocky work together.

Rocky is cool! I love that Weir didn’t go the easy route with the creation of an alien character. Rocky is no Roswell gray with a humanoid form. No no, for our sympathetic alien, we have a spider like creature with liquid mercury for blood who “sees” with echolocation and speaks in musical notes. And it works!!

Rocky is expressive and funny and is great with Grace. It’s hilarious, other than the Russian scientist on Project Hail Mary, he doesn’t get along with anyone as well as he does with Rocky, out of everyone in the book, Grace connects most with a spider shaped rock being, he has to make a computer program to speak with.

Rocky is a tad steadier than Grace, but that makes sense simply because of the two, Rocky knew what he was getting into, and Eridens not only have more time before their star dims to the point of causing a problem, but also, they live a long long time, so, Rocky knows he is going home. But the steadiness is also built into his personality. He and Grace are both analytical problem solvers, but seeing that Rocky is an engineer, his focus is to fix things. A problem arises, and his first reaction is “I will fix that.” He won’t be dissuaded until he has all avenues exhausted.

Grace has a habit, early on, of moping for a little while before rallying and getting to work. His interaction with Rocky brings that pouting time down a bit, and he even pulls Rocky out of a slump a time or two.

The relationship between these two is interesting because Grace says flat out that he is not a social person, he feels awkward in groups with people. But he easily communicates with his students, and he easily communicates with Rocky. Rocky is not childlike, but he does have something in common with the students, Grace, like any teacher, teaches his students, and learns from them. Grace teaches Rocky and learns from him. Grace is comfortable with this sort of interaction; with his students this is where the relationship stops. With Rocky, it doesn’t have that boundary. By virtue of the fact that both are alone in space and crave interaction, they talk a lot. Also, activities that Grace is use to doing alone, Rocky’s culture requires to be done in pairs. The biggest: Sleeping.

Eridens do not sleep without another person watching them. So, he insists that he watch Grace sleep and that Grace watches him. It is not expressly said what other things Eridens don’t do alone, but it is implied (at least to me) that they work better in pairs or in groups. This is true of humans as well, but Grace in particular is a loner, even as he complains that science doesn’t happen with one scientist doing the work (and he’s right) but he does work alone even when the astrophage project opened up to more people, the feeling I get is that he still does most of his work alone unless asked to teach others, or forced to come along by Strat.

Grace quickly becomes acclimated to Rocky’s way of doing things, in an odd way, Grace is more comfortable being Eriden, than he is being human. And I really think that this is the crux of their relationship.

I read somewhere recently that family isn’t necessarily blood, but who you would bleed for.

I feel that Rocky and Grace would sacrifice themselves for their respective home worlds, but they will bleed for each other. Grace must go to a different star system to find family, which is actually really cool to me, because the story manages to have Grace have a story of growth and even a quiet redemption arc all with the background noise of a potential double Armageddon, and we manage not to lose sight of any of these elements. Add to this that the book will make you laugh, cry and think all at once. I love the Martian, but I honestly think this one is better!

[fantasysamsclub]

so the adventure zone was recently picked up for an animated series.

hooray! good for the mcelroys. i’m glad they’re getting more mainstream. i’m glad they’re able to financially support themselves and their family with this fame. i’m glad taz has a chance to get new fans! i’m glad fans get to see some of the most iconic balance moments animated!

i also think it’s a monstrously bad idea.

(this is long and this may seem pretty mean and radical, but please read before fighting me on any of this. also this isn’t an attack on anyone that’s excited for any of this adaptation stuff! it’s good to be excited for this success. but also there are some things to consider.)

okay! so, up front: i think the taz animated series is a bad idea. i also think, retrospectively, the graphic novel was a bad idea. also i think the vox machina origins comic and animated series are bad ideas.

okay so this is going to get. a little long and rambly. but i’ll try to keep it organized.

1. TAZ Graphic Novel

now, when the first book was announced, i was excited! i’m still excited for the next one. aside from the blue/green elves thing, which i won’t ever forgive, carey’s doing a great job adapting this piece. i’ve met her before and she generally does know what she’s talking about, comics-wise, so i do think she was a very good choice to pick up the graphic novel

there are still problems! oh, are there problems. for example, i think everyone in the novel is characterized in a wildly different way than the original podcast. i can also get into this later if people want to hear about it, but! people have picked at that one before.

out of all the adaptations i’m going to talk about, this one is the best!

2. Vox Machina Origins

alright. context. i don’t know if i’ve said this on this platform before, but i’m a comic book artist (my big project is coming out this year, i’ll announce it on here, that’s not the point of this rant). and i bought the comic on a whim! it was a christmas present to me.

now, i know a lot of people read it and enjoyed it! and that’s great. i’m happy you got joy out of the book, really. i think every piece of art means something to someone, no matter its popularity or quality. and it did well, as far as i know! so that’s very good for CR and its fans. also i think pike is hot.

all that aside, the comic does suck very much.

i could go into a deep analysis of it (i CAN, if enough people actually want to see that?) but tldr: it’s rushed, both in production and story pacing. the character art is good! but you can see the shortcuts. the lettering is. awful. (that’s mostly a problem of modern comics in general though)

and i’m not blaming anyone at CR for these problems! really, if dark horse wants to pick up an adaptation, any writers from the original project should be heavily coached on how to write for a new medium. i’m not blaming matthew for that one! i know from firsthand experience that comic writing is different from anything else you will ever write, and is so difficult to get correct. as far as i knew, matt had never written for comics before! it would be really nice if he had some more resources to get this done right.

but that would cost money.

and that brings me to--

3. The Vox Machina Animated Series

wow! look at all that money everyone raised for this animated series. this animated series that the creators said they were raising money for so they could do it independently. hope they don’t go pitch it to a bigger company to do m--

and, it was sold to Amazon.

like, it didn’t even take them a month.

and in the current climate of how animation is bought and sold, i understand the need to sell it to a streaming service! you need a platform to let people view it, and youtube is in the shitter with its copyright stuff lately, so it makes sense to go private to keep your show safe. and then, you can maybe make more episodes after you run out of kickstarter money. i don’t hate that idea!

but amazon...hm.

it’s probably fine, right?

3.5. Wendy’s

haha remember when CR got sponsored by wendy’s and played their shitty rpg that wasn’t even balanced properly and then people called them out for it and then they donated all the money to a cause wendy’s hated to make up for it (good on them!) and then deleted the VOD off youtube? gosh, good times.

money makes people do strange things.

4. TAZ Animated Series

so, peacock has taz. sure! that works. it’s not the best company to pick this up, but it’s also not the worst. i’ll take that. i looked up the guy that’s slated to direct this and i don’t think he’s ever directed an animated show? which isn’t great, but that’s not what i’m worried about.

you know what i am worried about?

these big corporations don’t care if these adaptations are any good. they just want to cram as many iconic moments from your quirky, small-owned d&d podcasts to get you to give them money. for the mcelroys and the CR crew, it’s a passion project. to amazon and dark horse and NBC, it’s an investment.

you’re going to buy the book to see vax and vex bicker!

you’re going to tune in to watch magic brian!

you’re going to want to read pike meeting scanlan, of course!

you want to see “phantasmal and resplendent” animated!

here’s the other thing. when i see people talking about the animated series, this is exactly what they’re looking for.

“i want to watch merle dirty talk the plants on screen!”

“i want to see the taakitz date!”

“i want to see magnus do the julia scene...”

now, this mindset isn’t bad! no, if you’ve been thinking this, that’s okay! it’s really not my personal thought (i think adaptations are best when they DO change things in the story to better fit the new medium they’re going on) but it’s fine.

we might get tom arnold!

but you know what we’re not going to get?

we’re not going to get apologies and revisions when something goes wrong. we’re not going to get cute extra scenes because that would require more writing. we’re not going to get the same respect for the LGBTQ+ characters on screen. the people working on this show will not get paid what they’re worth.

we’re probably not going to get a trans actress for lup.

we’re probably going to see less of carey and killain.

we’re probably going to see even fewer black and brown characters than we already have.

why’s that?

because it’s a money project. they’re doing it for money. and they want to reach as wide of an audience as possible, right? “really, we need to cut back on this gay stuff so that straight people aren’t uncomfortable. we need to stay more moderate on this project so that more people will watch it!”

(that was sarcasm)

now, NBC has had some good shows! but that’s really the responsibility of their individual writers, and it’s usually in spite of the companies they work for, and not because of them.

once an author or an artist sells their project to a company for adaptation, they often lose all rights to input from it. i don’t know what the mcelroy’s or CR’s contracts are, but unless they have better lawyers than NBC or amazon.....they probably got shafted somehow.

it’s not a mcelroy product. it’s not a CR product. don’t pretend like it is.

you can enjoy it, but please be cautious. this is just a pile of money in a cheap taako costume. don’t trust it as much as you would the podcast.

tldr: individual creators are always going to make more genuine content than corporations that buy those creations for larger adaptations. it’s okay to enjoy these adaptations, but please be aware that it’s not going to have the same spirit or heart as the boys talking about masturbation on a filler show they did quickly so justin could go support his wife in labor.

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - “Risks and Consequences” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Crowley surprises Aziraphale with a surprise skating excursion on Christmas night during a suspicious snowstorm. (1436 words)

Read on AO3.

“You do enjoy shoving me headfirst out of my comfort zones. Don’t you, my dear?” Aziraphale asks, warily watching his husband strap a stiff black boot to his foot. 

“Poppycock,” Crowley grumbles, struggling to unknot long laces he accidentally macramed while attempting to navigate the rows of eyelets and hooks. “Consider this an adventure.”

“This is certifiable! You do know that?”

“How? You’re an angel! What on Earth could happen to you?”

“A great many things, I imagine,” Aziraphale replies. It’s a thin response. Crowley can tell Aziraphale has a thought, a vivid one, of something plausible. 

Something that has him concerned. 

Crowley stops messing with the skate and looks into Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale's gaze ducks and dodges, bouncing from his hands to his knees to other random things inside the confines of Crowley’s Bentley. But Aziraphale can’t avoid Crowley’s gaze, nor Crowley himself, for too long. “Sometimes, I feel as if, one of these days, I’m going to snap my fingers, and nothing will happen. Heaven will have found a way to make me mortal or …”

“Or abandoned you altogether?”

Aziraphale nods sadly. “Yes.”

“I get those thoughts, too, sometimes,” Crowley admits, going back to fixing his angel’s skate. “Too often, really. Which probably explains why you use your magic so rarely, and I use mine all the time.”

“You’re always double-checking."

“And you’d rather not know.”

“Losing my powers wouldn’t be the worst part. Inconvenient, yes, but not terrible. Abandoned by Heaven …” Aziraphale's words drift off, but their meaning lingers, clinging to Crowley's heart and building like the snow outside their windows.

Crowley winks at his husband, trying to get him to smile, to laugh, to roll his eyes and groan Oh Lord! “It’s not so bad ..."  

“... once you get used to it. So you keep telling me,” Aziraphale teases, gifting his husband with the tiniest of grins, gone all too swiftly. “Are you truly afraid of being abandoned by Hell?”

"Ngk ..." Crowley’s shoulders bounce a shrug back and forth as he thinks over his answer “... nah. Not really. They've already tried to exterminate me once, haven't they? It’s the consequences that come with it that would really suck: being mortal, having no powers, growing old …” Crowley’s eyes meet Aziraphale’s - melancholy blue eyes exposing those same fears, a subject his angel hasn’t felt comfortable bringing up before tonight. He still doesn’t seem comfortable with it, tight-lipped as an oyster. “But let’s not talk about that now,” Crowley suggests. “Tonight is for having ridiculous amounts of fun. Stirring up a little mayhem.”

“We’re going to get into trouble,” Aziraphale laments. “With the humans, I mean.”

“Nonsense. They'll never even know we were here."

“There are security cameras everywhere!”

“When was the last time you got caught doing anything on CCTV? It would be all over the Internet if you had! I'll fix it. You'll see.”

“By wasting another miracle? Or do you have a small army of rodents positioned on light poles, waiting to do your bidding?”

“Besides,” Crowley continues, overlooking the jab at what was one of his more masterfully executed, if not elaborate, schemes, “I’m not sure this is actually illegal. As long as we abide by all traffic laws and posted speed limits.”

“Where did you even get this idea?”

“From YouTube. The youths do it - barrel down frozen roads wearing bicycle helmets and hockey skates.”

"You're getting your evil ideas from children?" Aziraphale tuts. “Aren’t you supposed to be the bad influence? Not the other way around?”

“No shame in finding inspiration outside your own head.”

“Yes, well, I hope you skate better than you drive.”

“Oi! I am an excellent driver!”

“I know two rabbits and a squirrel who might disagree with you.”

“That wasn’t my fault! You’d think they’d know to get the Hell outta the way of a moving vehicle!”

“Speaking of which, we’re going to get hit by a car.”

“What car?” Crowley stops fiddling with Aziraphale’s skate to wipe down a fogged window and take a look around. Beneath the glow of the street lamps, he sees nothing but snow - a veil of flakes wafting down from the sky, pushed into swirls by the frigid wind. “No one’s out here! It’s three in the bloody morning after one of the worst storms London has had in years! You’d have to be insane to be outside!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Aziraphale mutters. “Bit early for a storm like this though, isn’t it?”

“Uh … maybe,” Crowley says, abruptly returning to his task. 

“London isn’t due for snow until January.”

“Is that so? Strange.”

Aziraphale's brow furrows as he watches his husband focus intensely on basically nothing. “Crowley …”

“Wot?”

“Are you responsible for this?”

"Wot would make you think that?"

"Crowley. Look at me."

Crowley's head slowly lifts, eyes aimed everywhere but Aziraphale's face. At one point, he even closes them, assuming that, behind his dark lenses, Aziraphale won't notice. 

But Aziraphale does notice. Even if Crowley were speaking to him from a completely different room, Aziraphale would notice.

Because, for a demon, Crowley happens to be an atrocious liar.

“It’s Christmas night!" Crowley pleads, unable to hold back any longer. "The perfect time for a lock-yourself-indoors-and-get-sloshed sort of snowstorm, a'right?"

“So why are we not inside getting sloshed then?”

“Because this is something I’ve wanted to do for a while! And I was gettin' tired of waiting for Mother Nature to accommodate. Plus, with climate change and global warming, nothing's guaranteed, is it?” Crowley moves on from Aziraphale's right foot and begins sliding his reluctant left foot into its skate. “Live a little!” 

“I aim to live a lot, which specifically requires avoiding activities such as this." Aziraphale pauses his complaining to watch Crowley work, beyond curious what was going on inside his husband's demonic mind when he hatched this plan. "So," he says, working through the mystery out loud, "you conjured up a snowstorm, froze the streets, are in the process of strapping these awful contraptions to my feet ... would you like to tell me why?”

"Do I have to?"

"It would be nice."

"I'm a demon. I'm not nice."

"Crowley ..."

“Alright! It's because I wanted us to be together like this." 

"Like what?"

Crowley sighs. "Like humans. And do the stupidly wonderful things humans do when they’re in love: take moonlit strolls, hold hands, kiss in the rain, all that sappy shite. Humans go skating at Christmas! It's, like, number three on their list of Yuletide activities. It's almost a requirement! Even if they can't stand steady in regular shoes, they go skating. And they cling to one another, and they laugh, and they kiss, and I … I didn't want to take the chance that if I waited, I might miss ..."

Nothing's guaranteed, Aziraphale thinks as he watches Crowley sink in on himself, head bowed over Aziraphale's feet, curling as if he wants to disappear. And Aziraphale begins to understand. 

Crowley has been a ball of anxious energy for as long as Aziraphale can remember. Aziraphale doesn't blame him. Crowley has been tiptoeing through minefields since the beginning - making innocent mistakes and paying huge prices for them. As supernatural entities, it's easy to get lulled into the false sense of security that nothing bad can happen to you. 

But that's not true. 

Not at all true.

Because even a demon and an angel with magical powers aren't anywhere near the top of the food chain.

Crowley destroying Ligur with Holy Water proved that.

So did his belief that Aziraphale had been extinguished by Hellfire.

The fact that he hadn't been didn't prove Crowley wrong.

Hellfire would most definitely annihilate his angel from the face of the planet.

Crowley and Aziraphale helped save Earth for humanity, but every day, the humans work harder and harder towards their own destruction.

Nothing's guaranteed. 

Not for anyone.

"If you don’t want to go skating, that’s fine. I know it’s risky. Probably the last way in the world you’d want to discorporate."

"I can think of worse ways," Aziraphale says with a chuckle.

"We can go back to your bookshop, make hot cocoa, listen to your gramophone or ... or something.”

“The biggest risk I’ve taken is sitting right here with me. And that’s worked out so far. For 6000 years, as a matter of fact. I don’t mind taking another one. Just … try not to let me fall.” 

“Just hold on tight.” Crowley scoots down the bench towards his husband and wraps his arms around him. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”

[popculturebuffet]

Top 12 Three Caballeros Moments: Ride of the Three Caballeros Epilogue!

Salduos Amigos...and Adios, as this is the FINAL part of my 20 part look at those happy amigos, those snappy chappies in matching serapes, those birds of the feather, THE THREE CABALLEROS, THE RIDE OF THE THREE CABALLEROS! Yes after 19 other articles, all paid for by megafan and patron of the blog @weirdkev27​, it’s time to bid our boys a fond farewell.  And what a ride i’ts been... we’ve had trips to Bahia, animaton sequences requiring a LOT of 1940′s cocaine ,Jose reinacting the plot of “Come a LIttle Bit Closer” by jay and the americans but ironcially not in the Badman Jose roll,, a less happy reunion where Donald went full vanilla ice for a few moments, Panchito giving us his long and storied family history in song form, Donald needing a vacation after his girlfriend punched him in the face and instead getting eaten by a giant snake, FLAMENCO MASTER HORACE HORSECOLLAR, Soccer with super cars, and our heroes having a warm and fun reunion and having to admit their lives didn’t turn out so good while Dewey jacaksses around in the subplot.

 And all of this lead into their very own series where our heroes met a goddess and wayne knight all in the same day, defeated THE MIGHTY MINOTAUR, got into a giant robot fight on the fucking moon, meeting the roman gods who live on and tend to the norse world tree for some reason, preventing a stupidly started lava apocalypse, going to goblin jail via song, meeting some literal dead presidents, chasing a bear around a fancy rich people town, getting into the ch-ch-chalk zone, fighting a wrestling match against the respresntive of the god of death, dying and coming back to life as a result of said wrestling match, going to camelot to train with king arthrus’ self helf book, going to a yeti spa and finally returning for one last battle with an evil wizard, his pet monkeybatdonkeyrat, and wayne knight, and have to put up with Donald’s shrill abusive ex girlfriend through about half of it. All in all good stuff and i’ll always be greatful for kevn funding this and giving me the chance to both finally watch legend and in general cover these wonderful characters. While i’m sure Panchito and Jose wil lbe back for the big finale of Ducktales, I’m gonna miss these guys and hope they get another shot at the big time one day. 

But Kevin had a great idea, one I decided to do for free since this thing cost 100 dollars together as it was a movie, and 20 episodes of television, so it was a LOT to do.  Fun but a lot of work. A top 12 list of the best moments from across the works covered for this retrospective. From the movie to the series, these are the best of the best moments of the best boys around. So without further adeu join me under the cut as I throw one hell of an after party for one hell of a ride.

12. The Cold Blooded Penguin (The Three Caballeros (Movie) )

This one is low because it doesn’t exactly involve the boys at all as this was a short in their movie. But what can I say, I love penguins, especially Opus.

And the charming tale of a pengy named Pablo who has trouble with the cold and wants to head off for warmer climates just never ceases to entertain me. It’s adorable, pretty funny and just a nice little start to the film every time I watch it. Especially his friends with the sleepy, depressed eyebrows. Really relate to them, especially the tall one with a ponch, aka me as a penguin.  Not much else to say hence why it’s so low, but I really enjoyed this short and can’t help but put Pablo on the list.. and wish he’d gotten a nod in Legend, but then again given we weren’t given a second season they were probably just saving him. 

11. Charon’s Fabulous Cruise (Legend of the Three Caballeros) Another Cabs free entry but I Just love this concept: Charon, ferryman of the river sticks.. deciding since he’s not getting as many customers to turn it into a cruise ship complete with add. IT’s low both because it dosen’t involve the boys and it dosen’t take up much of it’s episode.. but damn if it ain’t funny. And Jim Cummings just brings his all to it.. granted HE always does, the man’s a legend for a reason, but dosne’t make his performance any less lovely. WIsh we got a second season just so we could see this guy again among other reasons. 

10. You Don’t Get a Vacation You Take it (Legend of the Three Caballeros)  Wayne Knight as Sheldgoose.. was easily one of the best parts of Legend of the Three Caballeros. While the show itself was fairly high quality it’s other main villain Feldrake eventually fell into just calling Sheldgoose a moron and hitting him as his only character. IN contrast while at first apperance Sheldgoose was just a rich asshole with hair that looks like a bad toupe but apparently is his actual hair and what he choose to go with and a hell of a moustache.. and while that’s all true, he’s also cunning and manipultive, often making Feldrake’s plans work simply by using clever manipulations. He’s funny, enaging and the sadest part of no second season is not getting more of this guy. Hopefully he’ll show up in another.. even the comics using him without Wayne Knight’s Dulect Tones would be nice. He’s a good villian and would fit just as well in the classic comics being either a snooty nuisance to donald in some way, or being a rival fro scrooge, also being rich but his family having earned it by stealing from others.  But for now what we got ain’t bad and hte best example of just what sheldgoose is capable of is also his first bit of contirbuting more than as a set of hands for feldrake, phrasing. His vilian song. Yes Wayne Knight FINALLY gets a villian song. Your very welcome. 

The song is just fun, a Luau type song with a sinster undercurrent and wayne knight just having a hell of a time, alternating between speaking and singing> It’s low on this list because i’ts an OKAY song, i’ve seen better villian songs, I just really liked this one, and because it dosen’t exactly involved the boys, but I still hold to my convictions in putting this one on here.

9. Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero González (House of Mouse) Only House of Mouse entry, and suprisingly it’s not Donald squeaking “And i’m donald duck!” , which has been burned into my brain for a few decades. No it’s the groups OTHER song in there second apperance on the show Not So Goofy, sung by the incomprable Rob Pauslen. While I sitll think he was easily the worst Jose of the bunch, and that the roll never should’ve been given to a white man to begin with, credit where it’s do: he wasn’t a have bad panchito. He only voiced everyone’s faviorite rooster, suck it Foghorn Leghorn, once, for a song, likely to capatalize on the fact Paulsen was famed for Yakko’s World and other songs where he sang a lot at once, but boy did he make a meal of it. Observe.

The song is lightly hampered by the fact it also uses his version of Jose which is probably the worst work i’ve heard from Rob. And given it’s the only roll i’ve heard of his that wasn’t very good and he’s still VERY CLEARLY trying his best, that says a lot to the guy’s quality. And im not saying all this to avoid backlash, I stand by what I say and how I say it.. i’m saying it because I truly love and respect the guy this just was not his best work. This song however is Rob on full blast, using his ablitlity to talk fast no matter the voice to give us one heck of a lively performance and name for Panchito, one that was reused for Ride of the Three Cabs though sadly minus the song, as I would’ve LOVED to hear Jamie Camill belt this one out. But the lively animation and liveleir performance earn this one a spot.

8. Baia, Donald (The Three Caballeros) For this one i’m squishing three different but related parts of the movie together: The “Have you been to Baia, Donald” song, the train trip there and the awesome musical number at the end. But all three flow together as one great sequence with the frist two serviing as a fun prelude for a fun sequence as Donald and Jose try to woo a lady named Yaya, played by Aurora Miranda, and get into a big and fun dance number that for the time is AMAZINGLY blended with the live action work. The song is an utter ear worm, the seqeunce is fun and it lacks some of the creepiness Donald’s later session of flirting had and the colors are vibrant as hell. Wonderful, beautiful stuff. It’s really hard to talk about as not a lot happens in it other than a fun bit of song and dance.. but sometimes tha’ts just waht you need: a bunch of actors, two of which were animated, moving and groving to a heckuva beat. 

7. I Love You Guys (Legend of the Three Caballeros)  This was just a very sweet moment but one I treasure. The Cabs beat a giant horrifying rage beast.. by genuinely apoologizing to donald, telling him they love him then having a group hug. After a full episode before this of them just kinda ignoring what he cared about, Xandra and the boys genuine apologies and Donald genuinely telling them “I love you guys” and realizing for the first time in his life he’s genuinely loved and appricated. It just feels so fucking nice. Shame they didn’t you know.. end the Daisy plot with him realizing he dind’t need or or that he wasn’t angsiting over a selfish goldigger in the first place but hey, you take what you can get sometimes and the getting is good here. 

6. The Cabs Song .. in Comic Form! (The Three Caballeros Ride Again!) 

Another fairly quick one to talk about but one’s that damn impressive. The Three Cabs ride again is a wonderful story that reunites our birds of a feather for an adventure in mexico.. and one of it’s two best moments, the other one way further up from Don Rosa’s classic, seriously check it out it’s good, is when the boys, to distract their enemy for the story, play their classic song.  Musical numbers.. are hard to pull off in comics. As Linkara, comic critic and one of my inspirations check him out on youtube he’s really fantastic, has mentioned quite a bit not having the sound to go with it is an uphill battle. But i’m not as against this as he is.. as long as you can convey the ENERGY of said song and perofrmance in the page. As long as you got that, you can pull it off and boy oh boy oh boy did Rosa ever. While it’s only about a page and a half long it’s just a fun, wonderful litlte sequence, from the crowd that has no reaction til lthe end when our big bad clubs them with the guitar, to our heroes swipining tablecoths to seve as serape to Donald falling outside, it’s one of the highlights of an alreayd impressive story. 

5. Jam Session (Ducktales, The Town Where Everyone Was Nice!) 

Only one Ducktales moment but it’s a keeper to be sure and now I HAVE seen Legend... I can say as I did there Jamie Camil REALLY shoudlv’e been kept as Panchito but “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice”.. really was still ag reat version of the characters and still kept them true. It wasn’t AS good as the Legend versions.. but honestly that’s fine. Not every version HAS to be good as the others and they were still wella cted, wonderfully animated and the story was great. And the moment that shows it off best is the boys quite moment after lunch, where they remincse, have fun, think about old times.. then hear a radio and slowly but surely have a fun dance number together, playing like old times. It’s this moment that makes me REALLY question why people hated this so much, as this one tiny moment captures the cabs chemistry and comrander in just two short minutes, Donald getting angry, Jose defusing int with a dance then him joining in, the three just jamming iwth whatever’s on hand and jose magically playing the fluit with his umbrella. I’ts all just so charming I love it. The end version of the three cabs IS really awesome, it just didn’t make the cut. Still liked it though.. but this.. this is better. Sometimes less is more you know?

4. The Three Cablleros Song (The Three Caballeros (Movie) ) Look you knew this was coming, I knew this was coming, we all knew this was coming. But the song is no less awesome, with fluid animation, wonderful vocals and lyrics, and an unberably catchy tune. It’s iconic to the characters, having popped up in four different renditions during this retrsopective, all of them pretty damn good, but no one tops the original.  Even the two more dated bits, some latin baby and Panchito having a gun solo, somehow don’t hamper what’s otherwise an iconic moment. It’s fun, it’s fancy free, and it establishes the boys dynamic perfectly, one that as we’ve seen would last a few lifetimes and probably will last forever. 

3. We Say So! (The Three Caballeros Ride Again) While Ride again is a VERY good story, it’s best moment is ironiclaly it’s end despite leaving you wanting more and more. After a fun adventure and a laugh over it being for nothing really, our friends return to Jose’s job at a night club, which his manager, who understandably has issues with Jose choosing wooing ladies over actually doing his job sometimes, only gives him back because it’s a big night but needs a big act. The first touching moment here is the fact the boys pitch in without being asked because hteir friend needs them. But the real moment is what happens after: The Triplets return from the hotel, still bemoaning as they did ealrier in the story that Donald has no friends and assume when they see him on stage and see him crash off it that he incited a riot.. only for his friends to assure him he’s a very fine fellow and they say so.. and in an instnat the boys realize donald DOES have friends.. and the best friends a duck can ask for. And after a lifetime of being spat on and barely winning.. Donald gets an unquestioned victory, stnading proudly with his friends for a packed house who still want more while his nephews look on proudly. I say so.. and what I say is that this moment is one of Rosa’s finest and one of the most touching thigns the man’s ever written. 

2. This is Just Where I Came In (The Legend of the Three Caballeros) The Legend of the Three Cabs was excellent and it ended on one hell of a high. After a heck of a fight via callbacks that barely didnt’ make the list, our heroes rush in to stop Feldrake. their sorcerer nemisis,  from reviving.. only for it to be too late. He’s back in full and soon warps reality around him leaving the boys hometown of the New Quackmore insitute as a series of rubble, buildings and people clinging desperatly to both floating in a hell of a starry backdrop, the only chance to stop this from happenign to the world resting in our heroes. And it’s so we catch up with where the seires began: our three heros decked out in truly awesome armor, though why Panchtio’s is roman I have no idea, fighting a giant and mosnterious felldrake and while his deisgn in that form is eh, his threat is palpable and the fight is goregous and pitch perfect.. and only gets better when we catch up, as Xandra swoops in to save htem from the cliffhanger the series started with. It only isn’t up top because of tow reasons; I like the first moment better.. and the boys do fall in a magic pool of amulet juice and emerge with powers due to a character we just meet when they do so. It’s a bit of a cop out.. but even with it being a cop out and a dues ex machina of the HIGHEST order.. it dosen’t stop it form being awesome when our heroes emerge merged with thier amulets energies, in their signutre colors and whoop felldrakes ass with a revivied Xandra’s help and then nearly reseal feldrake before his being resealed, but in Sheldgoose, resotres everything and our heroes get a WELL earned bout of praise from the town and a fancy mansion and in donald’s case a new job. A specatuclar, tense and gorgeous finale to a wonderful series. 

1. Ride Em, Vaquero! (The Magificent 7 (Minus 4) Caballeros)  Look I know it sounds like a bit of a downgrade to go from a battle for the fate of the world to our heroes fighting a spoiled prince and a giant anaconda just to make it out alive.. but frankly this battle is more tense, has all boys showing off even better, and has a climax so awesome even saving the unvierse with suddenly gained magic powers can’t top it.  For the setting our heroes end up trapped in a lost city with the bad guy of the comic, Don Rosa’s second to last and his second of only two cabs stories, prepared to get away. But then Donald snaps, spurred on bya ll the shit he had to put up with back home,and TACKLES the fucking guy in his boat getting into one hell of a scrap. And if that wasn’t enough, what brings this to true glory is a giant Anaconda who shoed up earlier, popping up.. leading to Donald fighting our big bad.. WHILE BEING TANGLED UP IN A FUCKING PYTHON. 

What truly clinches this as the best of the best for me though is Jose and Panchito’s actions, with Jose fighting the guy off off donlad, and actually having his umbrella WORK this time, and while the bad guy gets the raft from our heroes.. he falls off a cliff. So how do our heroes escape.. simple .. PANCHITO LASSOS THE FLEEING SNAKE AND THEY RIDE IT OUT AS SEEN ABOVE THROUGH A POND FULL OF DANGEROUS CREATURES WHO ALL STARE IN AWE AT THE SIGHT OR FLEE.  You.. you just can’t top that. The awesomness, the teamwork, the sheer balls on panchito..i t’s all just so beauitful and sums up what the boys are about: Deft teamwork, camradire.. and doing utterly insane shit as only best friends can. 

So with that.. this ride has come to an end. As I said before and will say again, it’s been fun, easily the biggest project i’ve done so far, and easily one of my faviorites. I love these guys and geninely hope we see them again real soon. So before I go, i’d like to say some thank yous. I”d like to thank ALL of the talented people involved in the making of the original film, as there are way too many to mention as it was a package movie but without you lovely and mostly deceased people we’d never have these wonderful guys. I’d like to thank Don Rosa for bringing the boys back and better than ever and beautifully so AND returning to them again. I’d like to thank Henry Gilroy and Phil Walsh, who wrote the first and second house of mouse cabs episodes for bringing the boys back to the screen, as well as series creators Robert Gainway and Tony Craig and the MASSIVE pile of storyboarders for both episode.  I’d like to thank the people behind mickey and the roadster racers, while your episodes were not very good I am glad the boys got more screentime, i’d like thank Frank Angrones and Matt Youngberg for their wonderful versions of the boys and total respect to their legacy, and i’d REALLY like to thank Matt Danner for giving us a wonderful series and finally giving the boys a starring roll again. 

I’d also like to thank the MANY voice actors who voiced these wonderful characters, your beautiful all of you. To Donald’s voice actors for this retrospective i’d like to thank Clarence Nash, you absolute legend may you rest in peace, Tony Anselmo, may you keep on living please god we’ve lost a lot of good people lately don’t be one of them, and even Daniel Ross, who might not be the best Donald but he’s one of only five and you can’t take that way from him. 

For Jose i’d like to thank Jose Olivara, without you I don’t think we would’ve even gotten to the Cablleros as a group, Rob Paulsen, you tried your best and your still a winner in my heart, Eric Bauza, you genuinely were the best, and Bernardo Del Paula, who gave Bauza a run for his money and I hope returns in the role in the future. 

And finally for Panchito we have Joaquin Grey, again wouldn’t of had the rest without you man nice job, Carlos Alarzqaui, did the job and did it well, Rob Paulsen, gave us one hell of a song, Jamie Camill, the best around no one’s ever going to keep him down, Arturo Del Purto who while I prefer jamie.. still was excellent and I wouldn’t be mad if he returned again. 

And last but not least I’d like to sincerly thank @weirdkev27​. These reviews have GENUINELY helped me finacially since i’ts hard for me to find a job since I cannot drive and have a disablity, and thanks to htem i’ve been able to live comfortably and thanks to you in general i’ve been able to do what I love and get paid for it. You got me to do this wonderful restrospective, have been a genine support to the blog and a treasure to work with. Thanks man, your the best.  So with that, it’s time to ride off into the sunset. If the cabs get another apperance outside of ducktales, I will pick this up again... and wether it’s in a year or ten you bet your bottom peso they’ll be back. Who says so? I says so. 

[punkofsunshine]

The (Informal) Miniature Anarcho-Solarpunk Manifesto

The integration of communalism into a classless system away from the main caste-esque system of hierarchy around the world is very costly when viewed from a consumer lens, but is essential in the degradation of the overbearing hierarchy that the main populace is subjected to and thusly become numb to the pressures placed upon them from an early age, spiral into endlessly consuming for a sense of being in a world that doesn’t care if you’re alive, to them you’re just a replaceable cog in the profit machine. The goal of the communalist, socialist, solarpunk, etc. should not be to live in their own bubble, but to expand their influence exponentially through participation with the outside world, turn a commune into a city as it were. Less people in a place that has dictated control by the state and the consumers within, the less control the state and capital have over people. A migration of people increases quality of life and food consumption, luckily food growth can be optimized to accommodate many people when given according to need as opposed to given to whomever has the money to afford produce. One must also keep in mind, the debt accrued is now a community responsibility, so the members will do everything in their power to keep people functioning in the community, that must include people paying off debts. Who are you if you let a fellow worker suffer on their own? Who are you to let a human such as yourself be subjected to the violence of the state in its many forms? Pushing back against such oppression is why we ascribe to this ideology, so we can taste freedom and save the earth from ourselves.

No individual is solely responsible for the pollution and poverty. Multiple corporations and their figureheads are. Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, Bernard Arnault, Qin Yinglin & family, Michael Bloomberg, The Koch family, Jim Simons, Alaian & Gerard Wertheimer, Mark Zuckerburg, Amancio Ortega, Larry Ellison, Warren Buffett, the Walton Family, Steve Ballmer, Carlos Slim Helu & family, Larry Page, Sergey Brin, Francoise Bittencourt Meyers & family, Jack Ma, Ma Huateng, Mukesh Ambani, Mackenzie Scott, Beate Heister & Karl Albrecht Jr., David Thomson & family, Phil Knight & family, Lee Shau Kee, François Pinault & family. Sheldon Alelson, The Mars family, Elon Musk, Giovanni Ferrero, Michael Dell, Hui Ka Yan, Li Ka-Shing, He Xiangjian, Yang Huiyan & family, Joseph Safra, Dieter Schwarz, Vladimir Potanin, Tadashi Yanai & family, Vladamir Lisin, Ray Dalio, Takemitsu Takizaki, Leonid Mikhelson, etc. (Forbes) The list could go on, but I’m not about to list four-hundred people, the people have to change what the ruling class refuses to, hijacking corporate manufacturing and removing police of their power is essential. The police are targets due to the fact they protect corporate interests and stunt progressive growth, all of the people listed above refuse to let power be taken from them, there are too few people willing to make attempts to go after them because what would happen to their favourite source of consumption if that happened? What would happen to convenience? It would disappear, they don’t want to have to make things themselves, such is the first world’s entitlement. Doing without the convenience to save the environment should be a priority, things aren’t going to just get better on their own just because you installed solar panels and an eco-friendly water filtration system. The extent of the work that needs to be done is tremendous and must be organized efficiently and with regard to equivalency of power.

The world is in the process of ending due to all the turmoil we put it through, but the fact we’re more worried about comfort and convenience is very telling of what kind of culture western society has, instead of trying to fight those who destroy the environment and oppress us, we’re eager to mimic them. Why? Because they have and we have not. Such is the downfall of the consumerist mind. A majority of Americans think like consumers, not citizens, which is very telling because the anti-communist culture moted it be after the second world war. (Vox) There’s no telling where the zeitgeist is headed, but there’s political radicalization on both sides of the spectrum, sadly the other side of the spectrum is what we fought against, fascism, nazism, and authoritarianism. 2016 through 2020 were the worst years in terms of hate crimes committed on minority groups since the 60’s which is really saying something, neo-nazi groups sprung up and made themselves the focus, where there are fascists, there will always be anti-fascists or to be informal, antifa. I, the author am a background informant for the loose collective known as antifa, our job is simply to let people know where rallies are going down, we use pseudonyms and VPNs so we cannot be tracked. So why am I telling you this? Isn’t this supposed to be about what we can do to rebel against the systems that oppress us? Yes, and I’m getting there. There’s a reason I’m talking about fascism, and that is the fact fascism and capitalism are linked together.

Fascism/imperialism has been described as “capitalism in decay” by Vladimir Lenin due to the fact that neoliberalism is capitalism functioning as normal, communism post-capitalism, and fascism is capitalism going away slowly. It is an unjust and evil way of looking at the world, but once capitalists sense danger to their power, they fund fascism just so they can keep their power for longer. Anti-fascist action is also anti-capitalist action, for every nazi destroyed, we are one step closer to freedom. For every capitalist institution raided and demolished, we are one step closer to freedom. The city isn’t made of buildings that you can buy from, it’s made of the people who live there, so when the BLM protests occurred and stores were “looted” and burned, that was a form of praxis that hasn’t happened in years it was truly inspiring to see the people of Oregon (among other places) fight the police, fight back the alt-right, give capitalists the middle finger, create autonomous zones, and keep people from getting evicted during the pandemic. That is what communalism is partly about, supporting each other in the face of adversity no matter the cost of personal wellbeing, it’s the pinnacle of mutual aid.

Revolutionary action is one-hundred percent essential in securing future freedoms for not only generation Y, but generation Z and subsequent generations. As a member of generation Z, I feel fear, anger, and dread when it comes to climate change and the fact our generation will have to clean up the messes of the former generations when it comes to pollution, greenhouse gas emissions, unsustainable farming practices, soil health degradation, deforestation, the melting of polar habitats, natural disasters, etc. The weight of the world falls upon our shoulders and we realize this as a truth or we reject reality and follow in our parent’s footsteps and do nothing about it, it’s up to us, the most depressed and angry generation in the U.S.’s rather short history to right the wrongs made by former generations when most of us can’t even find motivation to get out of bed in the morning. I am writing this manifesto in my bed as I have been for the past week when I remember to write it down. It’s not enough to just write a theory however, put practice in it and it becomes more than just a talking point. It becomes a movement, how far you want to take it depends on you, but I do not condone violence against any of the people in the list above for strictly legal reasons. It is not absurd to think that we don’t have a snowball's chance in hell to stop the impending climate disaster that is about to fall onto us, because that assumption is correct. The best we can do is rebuild afterwards then hope and pray the next generation continues our work to restore the planet and maybe move outside our solar system, god willing.

I’ve tried writing a short solarpunk novel, I realized that the fiction may be important for outreach, but I was trying to add personal political theory to a narrative that’s supposed to be about a character’s internal conflicts as opposed to what I’m doing now, informal political theory, which is why I’m addressing you, the reader. I’ve read and listened to political theory in the past, and it’s incredibly dry and hard to pay attention to, don’t get me wrong, it’s important when you’re a part of various movements such as eco-socialism, communalist-anarchism, and anarcho-solarpunk, but I think it’s more important to connect with a reader or listener to make sure they understand the message before saying “do some praxis.” That is the goal here, not to be the leftist, humane version Ayne Rand, but instead instill in people a hope for the future that learns to do without mass manufacturing, that learns to make their own food sustainably, that learns that we all have a right to food, clean water, housing, medical treatment, and clean air without having to pay for all of those things. I may not be a part of the bottom percentage of people, but if I were my point would still stand strong, the notion that you have to work to get basic necessities is immoral on many levels, but in “free market” economies that’s the standard and I was as blind to it as most people before I found solarpunk, it started out by liking the aesthetic, but I started thinking about what we do to our planet and realized this isn’t just a bunch of pretty pictures, this is an idea for a utopian future entrenched in equality, sustainability, environmentalism, and anti-corpocracy.

Many people say that socialism has never worked, they give reasoning such as “Income inequality expands under socialism.” Which is just capitalist projection, during the 2020 pandemic, which is still ongoing at the time or writing, the rich got richer and the poor got poorer. “. . . in the months since the virus reached the United States, many of the nation’s wealthiest citizens have actually profited handsomely. Over a roughly seven-month period starting in mid-March – a week after President Donald Trump declared a national emergency – America’s 614 billionaires grew their net worth by a collective $931 billion.” (USA Today) The middle class, which skyrocketed post-feudalism/post-monarchy has been getting erased by the ruling class, which is the goal of capitalism. Capitalism is rooted in the aristocracy or the bourgeoisie and was created to have control over the masses without having a direct economic power structure overhead. Things may have gotten better for the growing middle class and the poor marginally, then the industrial revolution kicked in and everything went downhill from there. Pollution began with burning coal, the car came along, now it’s coal and oil, and so on until today where we have access to truly world-altering technologies, but what’s holding us back are the people who continue to exploit non-renewable resources for profit and solely profit. The betterment of mankind isn’t on the mind of the capitalist, they can avoid global catastrophe, they aren’t the peasants, they’re the monarchs. Why do you think billionaires fund space travel and cryogenics research? It’s not to better the rest of the world, it’s to get the hell out of dodge after global warming takes its toll and they have no more workers willing to fill their pockets by letting their labor be exploited. As I said above, it’s up to my generation to fix the mess they made. Maybe we’ll learn a lesson, or maybe we’ll die in the process, either way the situation is dire and action needs to be taken.

Who will take action? Well, if you made it this far into the manifesto without falling asleep or getting angry at the things I have to say, it’s you, me, and everyone else who cares, is tired of selling their soul, and wants freedom. Freedom, not via the dollar, but via being human. It matters not your ethnicity, skin colour, religion (or lack thereof), sexuality, gender, or anything else; you matter, the world matters, and it takes all of us to save it.

-A manifesto by Aeron Fae Greenwood

[kerra-and-company]

3, 4, 20, 21 from the headcanons ask game! ✨

Sure, sounds like a plan @i-mybrunettelady :D

3. How big is the Pact in respect to other military forces? Who supports them monetarily (they’ve had enough resources to build Fort Trinity long before it was certain they could even take Zhaitan)

Originally (pre-HoT), I'd say pretty large! They smashed together the three orders of Tyria into one organization, and each of them was a decent-sized group on its own. It's really hard to get a sense of the scale, especially since I feel like most of the military/defense forces we see have to be smaller. (The Wardens came to mind first, but I think the Seraph and the Peacemakers are also probably both smaller groups than the Pact.) The charr legions as a whole have got to be at least the same size as the Pact, but individually they're probably smaller. Post-HoT, I have less of a concrete idea, but I imagine that they eventually build up their ranks to something close to or matching their original size.

As for monetary support, I have to assume that each of the orders have some way of making money, and the original building of Fort Trinity drew on those coffers specifically. Once the Pact forms, they might continue drawing on whatever those ways were; they might also (once they prove they're actually a viable dragon destruction force) be subsidized on some level by the different Tyrian governments--though I'm not certain exactly how that would work (or if it would work) in terms of politics and who they're beholden to, so that's a less likely option.

4. How much smarter than everyone else are asura actually? Is it all just hubris and in the end they just have a better education system?

It's really hard to tell. I want to guess half and half, but as far as I know (and I could be very wrong here), we don't have any canonical examples of asura who were raised outside of their education system. And even then, you'd have to do some sort of study in order to get any actual usable data, and...wow, my answer about asura is turning into a minor dissertation on the scientific method xD. (Not to mention that doing a study like that would have to be observational rather than experimental in order to be an ethical study and I think getting a large enough sample size would be difficult...)

But, anyways, I tend to assume half and half in my personal headcanons: they get a jump start, but it's not as much as they'd like everyone else (and themselves) to think. Though their education system does seem to be generally (minus the semi-frequent pompousness and assholery of the people in charge) pretty damn good, so they get props for that for sure.

20. How far has Orr been restored at this point?

God, I wish we could see this in game, so much. I know why the game doesn't work like that, but I would so love to see what it looks like.

But in my headcanons--it's getting there! It's been about 9-ish years in-game now since Trahearne did the cleansing ritual, so I don't think there's any way it can be completely recovered. We've seen that, even though Zhaitan is dead, the Risen are most definitely still around, so clearing them out alone probably is taking a while. I looked up ecosystem recovery to see if I could find any references, and apparently, in our world, forest ecosystems can take around 42 years to recover from devastation while ocean ecosystems take only 10 because there's more organism turnover. Based on that (and taking into account the fact that this is very much both the same and different because of magic and dragon corruption), my mental image of Orr right now is something along these lines, but with whatever plant life grows there:

There's more undergrowth now, and the ground's a lot more green, but there's still many, many remnants of the destruction. Vines wrap over most of the ruins, covering up the grey, bit by bit. As far as animals go, there's most definitely small birds and bugs even in the more damaged areas by now that are living quite happily, and the wildlife from the border with Mount Maelstrom and from the less-corrupted areas are still working on fully spreading through the rest of Orr.

So, yeah. Getting there. But it's much less "zombie zone" and much more "recovering" now, though you should still probably bring a squad if you're venturing around there.

21. Malyck. Other Trees. Mordremoth’s blighting trees… Are the Sylvari not unique?

Hmm. Depends what this question is asking, exactly. They're definitely not the only plant creatures grown from a Tree like the Pale Tree, but as of right now in canon, are they alone in being sylvari? I don't know. It's definitely my headcanon that there have been other Trees (see: my OCs Rel and Nisha, as well as the aforementioned and very canon Malyck), but whether or not they're still alive and uncorrupted by Mordremoth is another story. Additionally, it's very possible that there could be more Trees in the future or that there are some that are still growing. The Pale Tree didn't awaken the Firstborn until she'd been alive for some 225-odd years, so if there are other Trees, they might not be old enough to produce other sylvari or might simply not be inclined to do so for whatever reason.

Also, while new Trees would most likely grow in or around Maguuma due to proximity and climate, it could be possible for them to grow somewhere else if someone like Ronan found other seeds and transported them far away. There could be Trees growing in places other than Maguuma.

As far as sylvari currently being unique, as in being the only plant beings currently existing and not having any "cousins", my metaphorical money's on them indeed being unique if you follow that definition. If there were other sylvari, I think they most likely would have been found by now. (Though it also is possible that they exist and haven't been located--Tyria is pretty big. Or that they were mistaken for Pale Tree sylvari; depending on what they look like, it might not be possible to tell on sight that they were from a different tree.). The only exceptions to this (canonically speaking at least) would be Malyck and any of his siblings, if they're still alive. As for whether that will stay the case in the future? I'd say probably not. I could easily see there being multiple Trees someday. There have to be unsprouted seeds left over after Mordremoth's death, right?

[syndianites]

Pineapples

Summary: In a world made of beginnings, it’s hard for things to stay the same. Tom and Jordan certainly didn’t. (Ianitee!Tom, Dianitee!Jordan)

Note: No content warnings attached, but please let me know if I should add any. I may make a full-fledged fic out of this idea, with a focus on Ianite and Tom trying to figure out how balance should work when they don’t click well. The side pieces would be Dianite and Jordan building into a dynamic duo, while Jordan starts to realize just what his choice means, and Karl trying to work things out with Mianite when he knows that order is not in his veins.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Also on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609547

Tom thought of pineapples the day things shifted.

It’s weird to consider. How what had seemed so solid, so steadfast, could slide just a touch to the left and change.

He wondered why he didn’t see it coming sooner-

-an arrow sailing through the air, smooth and undeterred. He knew it would land before it left his fingers. All he felt was cold, cold, cold-

-but he supposed that wasn’t really his job. Thinking was hard. It was Jordan’s job.

That brought a frown to his face. He supposed, again, that there were a lot of things that weren’t his job, now. A lot of things that were Jordan’s.

Tom was lazing about on the courthouse island, gazing up at the sky from the top of the arch. He imagined Jordan on his island doing the same- no armor, no weapons, just him and the grass around him, soaking in the sun. But he knew better. Jordan was likely tinkering away, having too many restless thoughts to take a breather.

Maybe that was why they had changed so much.

He could always see the gears turning in Jordan’s eyes, as though he were an automaton. Thoughts going click, click, click, churning and burning away until he got to a conclusion. It annoyed him. Where was the peace in always thinking? Tom was an avid believer in not thinking too much.

There was a lot he didn’t want to think about.

Or maybe they hadn’t changed at all.

But there was a simmer underneath his skin, a buzz of energy that was new to him. Tom was used to warmth, an unseen fire swelling in his chest and heating his veins. It was passion, it was drive, it pushed him to do, do, do. To laugh with friends, to destroy their lives, to wrap an arm around them, to slice a line down their torso.

There was no warmth, now. Just that buzz, that thrum. Distant but there all the same. Like an echo, a low bell bouncing between the walls of an empty village.

Tom pulled his hat down over his eyes. He was a pirate. Jordan was a captain. That should have made their roles clear, right? Simple, straight forward.

Jordan, the captain, would keep things together, keep things settled and neutral.

Tom, the pirate, would push buttons and steal shit, stir up trouble with each breath.

He thought, suddenly, of Capsize and her crew. Pirates in their own right, filled with mischief and wanting to stir up trouble of another kind. Maybe he should have known, then, what would happen. What being a pirate meant.

A whispered request. A hushed promise. “Pretend,” had been asked of him. “Of course,” he nodded. He didn’t know it yet, but that would be a lie, would be the final nail in the coffin.

A burial at sea, his body left to float along gentle waves, going out in a blaze of glory only to get snuffed out by endless water. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

He thought of pineapples, instead. They were sweet. A delicacy. Made for warm, tropical climates.

It’d been a while since he had one. Tom had always been unsure if he’d liked them. Sure, they were sweet, but there was a tartness to them, a bit of flavor that stole away the sweetness. He could only have a few pieces before he had to stop and think about it.

Did he actually like it?

They were rare and interesting. It was hard to grow them here. The Isles were somewhere between temperate and warm- something Jordan had mentioned once. The salty sea didn’t help them grow one bit.

Tom laced his fingers together over his chest.

His words were sweet rolling over his ears. Tiny praises encouraging violence. Syrupy voice pushing him towards destruction. That rush of seeing something explode, the stark reality of just what he had destroyed.

Watching quartz fall, fall, fall. Watching red drip, drip, drip. There were a lot of things he’d ruined to feel loved.

Something else Jordan had mentioned, that sparkle in his eye as he divulged more information to Tom that he figured would be forgotten in minutes- but that Tom had held onto, curiously enough- was that pineapples dissolve proteins.

Something about a chemical- a cell? Something that sounded like science- that ate away at flesh if left on your tongue too long.

“Basically, pineapples eat you back!” A laugh. “I guess that’s the give and take of life, right? The balance between plants and animals.”

He’d said it as a joke, but Tom’s mind latched onto it. He wondered what else nature tried to hold onto to keep balance. What it was like to be a plant that knew nothing about how powerless it was. That didn’t know there were beings bigger and stronger than them, beings that wanted to eat them, ruin them.

Then he thought about a hooded figure with a god-killing sword and he stopped thinking for the day.

Tom, of all people, would be the one to know about eating flesh. Or, that’s what the others assumed. A zombie is a zombie, right? Hungry, yearning, surely he’d tried it once, had been curious enough?

But he didn’t know. He knew about craving, he knew about the desperate need to feel sated, but not the feeling of tearing and blood dripping-

He breathed out.

No, he didn’t know about dissolving flesh beneath his teeth. He knew about a sickly sweetness meant to hide ill-intent. He knew about that sharp, tart aftertaste of falling for a trick, of being the butt of the joke.

Tom swallowed heavily, mouth dry and throat sticky.

He knew-

- eyes that lingered on a man obsessed with purple-

-that sometimes things weren’t what they seemed. How-

- someone can change in an instant, from a detached sort, only interested in a request to lively, excited to see someone that was not you-

-you can think a certain way for a long, long time and still be proven wrong. That a fire can only burn as long as there is something keeping it alive. From firewood, to random kindling, to even the scraps of dead leaves floating down from the trees above.

Or fully blossomed poppies, deep red and gorgeous. Freshly picked with clumsy hands.

That was the point, wasn’t it? Despite how sweet Dianite had been, it meant nothing to him. It was all just scraps thrown Tom’s way to string him along, to make him believe he was valued.

To use him as Dianite had seen fit, to have him put pressure on Ianite. On Jordan. To cause enough ruckus and upset in Jordan that his faith- once so unshakable that it held through neglect, through death, through the harsh doubt that came with a goddess unknown- would be shaken.

To make Jordan feel as though Dianite would love him more than the goddess who had looked for him, waited for him, cherished him.

Tom grit his teeth. He wanted to convince himself he felt bad for Ianite. That he felt a hard and fast compassion for her, that there was a shred of good left in his heart to feel such a thing.

But he was jealous. Painfully so. Every time he had to vie for praise, for affection, for appreciation. Had to put himself out there, do more, be more, had to practically grovel at his god’s feet to get even flippant, uncaring praise.

All Jordan had to do was breathe. To let the gears in his robot brain tick endlessly forward. Have his thoughts always make sense and his memory perfect. He just had to read, and understand, and make things better than Tom could dream of.

Jordan was a captain, but he was also an engineer, a man dedicated to studying, to constant growth.

Tom was a pirate. He stole his success from tiny moments of happiness. Plundered the wealth of those around him to feel like he had any.

Time and time again, the world showed that it loved smarts over strength, but how easily had Jordan crumbled to temptation in the past? How many times had he fallen to petty tricks, to getting riled up, to being pushed a fraction of an inch outside his comfort zone?

Tom had done a lot of things he never thought he could. 

He’d become friends with Karl after weeks of seeing Tucker- hell, even Sonja- in him, friends he had no guarantee of seeing ever again.

He’d settled his grievances with Mot despite the sick feeling of being replaced. Hadn’t he replaced Mot, though?

He’d fought friends. He’d fought himself. He’d fought his god.

Tom had chosen his friends over his god, who had meant everything to him.

An arrow hit its mark. He’d meant everything to him, yet nothing.

Tom didn’t feel fire in his veins anymore. Just that buzz. That hum. Whispers of something beyond this world. A tingle under his skin that felt like stars. Or, perhaps, the fuzz of the Void.

He’d turned his back on Dianite again. Of course he had. After all, that seemed to be the theme- forsaking your gods. Karl had done it-

- on accident, it was an accident. There was so much hurt in Karl’s eyes, so much fear. A voice had been whispering in Tom’s ear, but all he could focus on was the worry and concern in Karl’s eyes as Mianite flitted about erratically before them.

He shouldn’t have thrown down the armor-

-Jordan had done it, guess it was time for Tom to do it too.

And who better to turn to than Ianite? At least they could bond over being abandoned.

Somehow, he didn’t think it’d work out that easily. There was too much chaos in Tom, too much destruction and ruination and too much ready to explode. He was volatile, hurting, running on fumes of a fire long burnt out.

A gentle breeze caressed his face, pushing his hat up enough for him to peak out at the land around him. Purple caught his eye. Flowers, young and budding and barely there, had grown about him while he’d laid there.

Tom reached back up to pull his hat down once more. His head pounded. But instead of exploding, unleashing the torment he’d felt for years, tears trailed down his face.

There was a sniffle beside him and he knew he wasn’t alone.

That was a start, at least.

[wolfcrunch]

day 7 for @dekusquadweek​!

read on ao3

Awaiting in the shadows, atop a roof several buildings away, a particular underground hero watched as two sidekicks charged into a worn-down building, a wall of ice crackling into formation behind them, blocking off the entrance. He sighed, giving no mind as yells rang out across the otherwise empty lot. He grasped one end of his capture scarf.

Hitoshi wasn't surprised they hadn't waited, not at all.

He was exasperated, but not surprised considering who he was working with.

The underground hero threw the end of his capture scarf out, the material wrapping securely around a nearby streetlamp before he hopped off the roof of the building, letting gravity and his hold take over. Adjusting his grip mid-air, he swung his body weight, maneuvering his body an capture scarf to swing around the closest corner of the building, eyes zoning on on the closest open window.

He enters through the open window, instantly retracting his weapon and rolling as his feet touch the floor, breaking his fall and bringing him to a stop. He gets to his feet quietly, and creeps further into the room, having a rough idea of where Midoriya was located.

Can't believe those idiots stormed the wrong building.

Hitoshi couldn't believe he had to deal with them on such a regular basis.

Now, if Hitoshi's estimates were right based off the small activity he had seen, Midoriya was located somewhere on the second floor. Hitoshi was currently on the third. The villain - who was a small, low-life he hadn't even bothered remembering the name of, would be lurking around somewhere too. Trying to grill information out of Midoriya...

He had to move quickly, so the man wouldn't catch wind of his friends in a fight and try to flee. With or without Midoriya in tow, they couldn't afford to let this guy go.

Even if he had only a sliver of information. It was too dangerous, especially when it was Midoriya's information.

The boy's analysis was something to be feared, something he had learned very quickly once moving to the hero course. During their second year, Hitoshi had taken up on Midoriya's insistent offers to train together. The kid had his quirk practically figured out by the second session, and had already figured out support items that could help, as well as fighting styles and heroes to take tips and tricks from. Midoriya was a menace to deal with. He could go on tangents and could sit there muttering for hours about a singular quirk or hero.

And, while Hitoshi would never admit it, he did come to love Midoriya in his own way (platonically, of course). It was hard not to. With that kind of energy...Hitoshi generally felt much happier when he spent time with Midoriya. He couldn't explain it...

Th energy Midoriya had was different. Different to their other friends, different to their other classmates too, like Kaminari.

Midoriya emitted something that felt warm and safe, something which Hitoshi hadn't experienced much of in his life before...it was different, a nice different.

Focus, Hitoshi, he tells himself, shaking those thoughts from his head and focusing on the task at hand. Finding Midoriya, and getting him out of here. Making sure he was safe. Hitoshi reached the first doorway, and after peering out and making sure the coast was clear, he stepped into the hall. The silence washed over him, and despite the atmosphere, he kept his body tense, on guard and ready.

Stealthily, he made his way down the hall, towards where he knew the staircase was. He checked every room as he went, checking for both Midoriya and the villain. He could never be too careful - but every room he checked was clear.

Masking his steps, he slowly made his way down the stairs, going from the third floor to second and not running into any villains. Even though the others had chosen the wrong building to go for - he was actually glad, since it meant most of the other villains were over there. It made him sneaking around much easier.

However, upon reaching the landing that faced out towards the hall of the second floor, Hitoshi came to a stop, heaving soft, muffled voices. Two.

His eyes narrowed, and he began to creep along the wall slowly, carefully, one hand on his capture weapon. As he got closer, seeing a light shining out from below a closed door, he begun being able to hear parts of the conversation going on inside.

"--ne chance. You--" the conversation was broken, and Hitoshi strained to hear it. "--et you go."

"Not a chance." and oh, that was Midoriya. He sounded fine, at least. "Go to he--"

"Watch your tone."

The villain's tone had grown more rougher, meaner, louder, and Hitoshi nearly wanted to break into a run, take the man by surprise as he barged in and apprehended him. He held himself back, soon only a few steps from the door, within hands reach.

"Your quirk isn't doing much, villain. It's pretty cool, but not in your hands."

Midoriya, shut up! Now was not the time to be complementing such a man. He heard the villain grumble, his words indistinguishable. Hitoshi couldn't sit here and listen.

He reached out with his free hand, ready to pull the door open and wrap the villain up--

The door opened up on its own. The villain stepped out.

And Hitoshi struck.

It was a rather anti-climatic ending - the villain had no time to react, being wrapped up in Hitoshi's capture weapon before his face met Hitoshi's free fist, the man's nose crunching under his knuckles and fresh blood spurting from the broken area. It was a quick, but painful knockout on the villain's behalf.

Before his body had even hit the ground, Hitoshi had turned, entering the room and preparing for the worst.

Yet there sat Midoriya, tied to a chair, his costume and visible skin cut to oblivion, his right arm and the left side of his face obviously swollen. Blood trickled from some fresher cuts - but he seemed aware, given the way his eyes snapped to Hitoshi's form, and let up.

"Shinsou!"

"You're a sight for sore eyes...I had no clue what I was gonna have to deal with," Hitoshi grumbles back, hiding his relief behind a small smile as he quickly reaches his friends side, and after quickly looking him over for anything too serious, he cuts the ropes restraining Midoriya's limbs.

"Ow...man, I think I've got rope burn now."

Hitoshi only sighed, before he offered a hand to help the other up. Midoriya took it. "Rope burn is the least of your worries, Midoriya. You hurt seriously? What did the villain want?"

"I'm fine - nothing too serious. He just wanted some quirk information...not that I gave him any."

Hitoshi only chuckled, a rare sound and possibly not the best moment, but he couldn't help it. "Even the the guy doing all that? Midoriya, we know you're dedicated but please look after yourself too."

Midoriya scratches his head, looking abashed. "Right. Sorry."

"Anyways, I better tie up this villain and tell the others I found you. They went searching in the wrong building-"

"Others?" Midoriya looked surprised, wiping the blood off his face. "The others came?"

"It was mostly Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki who set it up - but yeah, they did. They'll be glad to see you have no broken bones this time around."

Midoriya coughed awkwardly.

Hitoshi sighed, feeling himself age five years in that very moment. "Midoriya...please tell me you didn't break a bone."

They'd been doing so good.

Midoriya chuckles, but its nervous and he's watching Hitoshi just in case. "Well...at least I didn't break it - that's gotta count for something, right?"

Hitoshi was tempted to tie up the other until he got proper medical help. He couldn't help the way he hung his head, exasperated already despite having just saved him. "Midoriya, this isn't good for you!"

"Sorry!!"

And, as Izuku would confirm later, it was not worth it either, having to sit through a lecture from Iida and Uraraka on self-care whilst already stuck in the hospital.

He was glad to be back.

[asgardian--angels]

4 Ways to Connect with Nature During COVID-19

Hi everyone! As someone who studies pollinators and conservation biology, I have found the last few weeks difficult, because I struggle when I cannot be outside in nature most of the time. Connecting with nature is known to be beneficial for our mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health, and never has that been more important than right now. I thought I would compile a few of my favorite ideas that I can offer about ways you can still connect with nature while social distancing, or even if you cannot leave your home at all. Know that these are obviously not all the ways you can experience nature - just the ones I’m familiar and knowledgeable about. Most of my resources apply to the eastern United States, but these things are applicable worldwide. If you ever have questions, just message me!

1. Go Birdwatching! 

Whether you’re a pro already or someone who’s never even attempted to tell the difference between the ‘chip’ and the ‘cheep’ coming from your bushes, birdwatching is a fun hobby that can be done anytime, anywhere, by anyone. While human activities may have slowed or stopped around us, the natural world is always moving and changing. Birds are one of the easiest animals to observe and learn, and their boundless zeal for life can renew our hope and lift our spirits. Whether you live in the country or the city, there are more kinds of birds than you think to be found right outside your door. The springtime is an especially good time to see birds, because they are migrating to their breeding grounds, bringing a whole assortment of colorful and sometimes unusual species close to your home. 

It doesn’t take much to start birdwatching. Most of us have an old pair of binoculars up in the attic somewhere, and plenty decent pairs for beginners are available for under $30 online (I just bought my mother a pair of Bushnells for $15 that had very good reviews). There are countless resources online to find an overview or quick guide to birds in your area. If you live in the United States, the best all-around every-need bird resource is Cornell’s AllAboutBirds and eBird websites. Together these two resources cover almost every bird species in the entire world - let me briefly go through each individually. 

AllAboutBirds is a guide to every North American bird, with stunning photos, ecology, and identification help. But more than that, from here you can lose yourself in dozens of offshoots of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology - from their several live feeder and nest cams, to their hundreds of articles and interactive bird biology resources. One I recommend for those who want to do some basic yard-watching is the site for Project Feederwatch. This has ample information to get you started in recognizing the (North American) birds around your home. Here’s even a free download of common feeder birds! You should also check out Celebrate Urban Birds, which has ID help for city birds in the US, Mexico, Canada, Puerto Rico, and Panama! 

eBird is a global citizen science site where millions of birdwatchers from Nepal to New Mexico share their sightings to build the largest database of bird knowledge on the planet! I cannot begin to cover everything you can do and learn on this website. You can scope out new places to visit with their ‘Explore Hotspots’ tool, or see where any species on earth has been seen by other people. It will keep your statistics if you enter your sightings, making a convenient way to keep track of all the birds you see! They have a helpful article here about how to start birding near your home.

Birdwatching is an activity that you can put in as much or as little time as you want into it. You will always be rewarded with getting a new perspective on the world around you, discovering neighbors you never knew you had! It can be a refreshing escape from a human-centric world, and maybe spark a curiosity you weren’t expecting! Birds are a bundle of personality, and you will find yourself falling in love with them before you know it. Consider keeping a “life list,” or entering your sightings into eBird to advance bird conservation. Birdwatching can be solitary or you can go with others. When this is all over, maybe you’ll have the chance to meet up with local birders and make new friends! There are birding clubs EVERYWHERE.

2. Plant a pollinator or wildlife garden!

As spring approaches, now is the perfect time to start planning a garden. This is a great way to be outside often but not have any risk of contact with others. Maybe you’ve never gardened before, or maybe you have one but would like to replace some of those exotic flowers with beneficial native ones. No matter your living situation or location, there’s always something you can do to make your little patch of earth a better place for all living things.

Our world is dependent on plants, which make the sun’s light available to other creatures. They interact with the most ecologically important animals on earth - insects. Insects are food for almost all songbirds, as well as the majority of all terrestrial animals in one way or another. “Traditional” gardens try to deter insects with pesticides and non-native plants that insects cannot eat. But we should try to encourage insects, because they pass a plant’s energy up the food chain, as well as pollinate flowers, keep “pests” in check (if you like growing vegetables), and are critical decomposers. The biggest thing you can do to help the local ecosystem is ditch the hydrangeas and hostas, and especially some of that turfgrass. Insects will almost exclusively only eat native plants, and being the most biodiverse animals on the planet, there’s an insect for every plant out there! It’s been shown that yards with few native plants support low levels of insect abundance and diversity, and that means fewer birds and fewer everything else too. Plus, insects are AWESOME in their own right, and once you encourage them, you will discover some incredible, colorful, brilliant species right in your own yard! 

Native gardens are easier than you think. In fact, they’re way easier than what most of us are doing now - by definition, they’re plants that want to grow here! They require less maintenance, no mowing, and no pesticides. They may not be readily available at Home Depot or Wal-mart, but they are easy to find once you locate resources from your region. There are online nurseries to buy seeds or root stock from, like Prairie Moon in the eastern US. Many regions have resources that compile lists of local nurseries and hold native plant sales. To benefit insects and wildlife, figure out what the general conditions of your yard are - soil type, moisture, climate zone - and then choose some plants that will grow there. For pollinators, you should find out what the recommended flowers are for your area - universities and cooperative extensions often produce this kind of information (example here for the northeast), as well as the Xerces Society. This kind of info is becoming much more common in the last few years, due to the popularity of pollinator gardens! Try to plant a few things that bloom in each season, so bees will have food year-round! Native grasses will support the caterpillars of many butterflies and moths too. Pollinator gardens easily overlap with wildlife gardens, which seek to support other animals too, particularly birds. Choose plants that have flowers that turn into seeds or fruit eaten by birds (native dogwoods are one of my favorites!). Plant flowers, shrubs, and trees if you can fit it - this gives insects and birds all sorts of choices for food, and places to hide or nest. Your local Audubon can provide a ton of information about bird-friendly gardening and the best plants.

Another easy way to benefit animals is to be the ‘lazy gardener,’ whether you actually have a garden or not. This means simple steps like, don’t rake your leaf litter, leave logs and rocks, and make a slash pile when you cut branches or trim bushes. This creates habitat for everything from bees to salamanders! 

Don’t have a lot of space? Try an herb garden, or patio garden. Small herb or vegetable gardens will be loved by pollinators even if the plants are not all native, and they will allow you to grow some foods you can harvest, reducing your dependence on the grocery store. Native flowers can be grown in pots as well - goldfinches, for example, will land on any coneflowers you plant, and eat the seeds right in front of you! And if you have no land at all, you can still help out by putting up a bee hotel, and sharing your knowledge with others.

3. The power of the written word - READ!

Can’t go outside? Live in the most inner of inner cities? Feel like you don’t know enough to get out there and identify what you see or know what it means? Books are a naturalist’s best friend. Now is a perfect time to dive into the wealth of literature about the natural world, from stories to field guides. I am always gung-ho to recommend books for a budding naturalist, or anyone who wants to learn more about a new topic! 

Were you intrigued by the things I talked about above - native plants, insects, birds, and the relationship between all of them? I highly recommend Bringing Nature Home by Doug Tallamy. It is the bible of native gardening, in my opinion. It’s an incredible and humbling book explaining in detail and with beautiful photos why we need native plants, just how important insects are, and what we can and should be doing to help. 

Want to learn about pollinators and plan your garden? There’s lots of books for that, and they’re so well made that both beginners and experts can use them. Try any of these:

The Bees In Your Backyard - Olivia Messenger Carril and Joseph Wilson

Pollinators of Native Plants (OR its companion book ‘Bees: An Identification and Native Plant Forage Guide’) - Heather Holm

Buzz: The Nature and Necessity of Bees - Thor Hanson (a narrative, not a field guide, excellent read)

Books about birds? Heck, I mean there’s hundreds of those. It’s a popular genre. I don’t have any on hand but if you want to know more about gardening for birds, check out Planting Native to Attract Birds to Your Yard by Sharen Sorenson. To learn birds, I recommend a Peterson or Kaufman field guide. 

Looking for books on nature in general? Not field guides, but non-fiction narratives? There are some absolutely stellar writers in our age that regularly move me to tears with their descriptions and connections to the natural world. My top author pick is Bernd Heinrich, an ornithologist and naturalist who has written over a dozen books on a variety of topics. I particularly recommend Summer World (and its companion Winter World), One Wild Bird At A Time, The Homing Instinct, and Life Everlasting: The Animal Way of Death. But they’re all really really good. There are SO MANY books of folks writing about their experiences with nature, from scientists in the jungles of Borneo to the average Joe exploring the concrete jungle. I have a small collection at home, but in my current locale, I can recommend The Secret Life of Bats by Merlin Tuttle, or Unseen City by Nathaniel Johnson. But there are, really, hundreds. All will change the way you view the world around you. You cannot read enough. 

Want to learn more about how important nature is to human beings? The biophilia hypothesis that states that we as a species need nature for our very souls, our physical development, our mental wellbeing? Please read Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv. It’s humbling, enlightening, and sobering. 

4. Citizen Science, Volunteering, and everything else!

You may feel alone right now, but know that everywhere, there are millions of people waiting to share their love of the natural world with you. Anyone who has a second to spare and the interest to look out your window should consider becoming a part of a citizen science project. These sorts of projects vary widely in their commitment time and energy, but most are solitary activities that you have complete control over. Some are more organized than others - many just ask you to report a sighting of a certain kind of organism, and others have a data sheet and timetable to follow. All contribute valuable information to conservation, making you a part of something bigger even when you cannot leave your yard. They also give you the opportunity to learn a new skill - like photography, or data collection - and help you notice aspects of the natural world you may have never given a second thought about before. A lot of them are a community that you can interact with online. Below are just a few of the MANY MANY citizen science projects out there. Again, this is US biased, but it is easy enough to find ones in your own country or those that are international.

eBird - I mentioned this before, but eBird is quite likely the biggest citizen science project in the entire world. There are a googleplex of ways to interact with others, learn more about the birds in your area or anywhere else in the world, find out who local birders are, and keep track of your own sightings. The data you submit has been used in countless peer-reviewed scientific papers and has a direct, significant impact on bird conservation worldwide.

iNaturalist - a worldwide platform for sharing sightings of any species, anywhere. A great community of naturalists, amateurs, and experts, here to help you identify your creature and explore what others find.

Project Feederwatch, The Great Backyard Bird Count, Christmas Bird Counts, Global Big Day, etc - offshoots of eBird and the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. These are specific events that ask backyard birders to keep track of what birds they see for a couple of weeks. This helps track migration patterns and population declines!

BugGuide - similar to iNaturalist, but for insects only and in North America only. I’ve been on this site for 12 years now, I’m a diehard! Experts will help you ID insects, and your data becomes part of a huge database to help scientists learn more about our native insects. Requires photos - a good chance to start two hobbies at once!

Bumble Bee Watch - submit photos of any bumblebee you find in North America. Bumblebees are declining and scientists need regular people to help track populations of these pollinators. 

Guys, there’s so many more. A few more quickies: iMapInvasives (for spotting invasive species), National Phenology Network (for tracking when things change - when flowers bloom, when animals nest, great if you see the same things reliably every day!), The Great Sunflower Project (plant a sunflower, monitor what bees visit it), Zooniverse (a compilation of different digital projects that need eyes and ears to help sort through data - like trail cam photos for instance! You’d be helping real researchers, often grad students at universities, but sometimes big ticket names too!). 

These are large-scale projects. But there are always smaller, local community projects that need your help. Become more aware of what’s coming up, even for after this pandemic when you can get outside and volunteer at something like a BioBlitz, a cleanup, or a tree planting. You would not believe how many volunteers we always need to make conservation possible. People like you are the backbone of what we do. Check your local and regional Audubon, your universities, your cooperative extension. They have resources, things that can give you information you need or ways to afford things you want to do. I’m sure there’s plenty I’ve forgotten to mention, since I don’t have all my things with me here. But never feel isolated. The natural world is always around you, and you are never alone! Every creature big and small is a lifetime of stories to tell. Pick one and get going!

[archinform]

Elegy for Chengdu

an alley in the Dacisi 大慈寺 area, Chengdu, 2006; photo by Roger Jones

Before I left Los Angeles to move to China in 2006, a work acquaintance who was interested in the country’s history told me, “You’d better go soon; China’s history has almost disappeared.”

Arriving in Chengdu, Sichuan, in the unbearably steamy summer, I nonetheless looked forward to my job teaching English at the university level. I soon realized, as I searched for traces of the city’s 2,300 year history, that the rush to modernization has virtually wiped out Chengdu’s architectural past. There are historic sites that remain, but they are mostly recreations, Disneyfied versions of China’s past for tourist consumption.

Amid the sterile, concrete monoliths that dominated central Chengdu, I was occasionally thrilled to discover small pockets of the past. Over the next several years, as ancient neighborhoods such as 水井坊 Shuijingfang and 大慈寺 Dacisi monastery disappeared under the bulldozer, I documented these areas with my camera. Both areas have now been transformed into upscale commercial and leisure zones, and are no doubt on most tourist itineraries.

大慈寺 Da Ci Si (Temple of Infinite Mercy) was once the largest monastery complex in Chengdu. Located near the downtown shopping area, its current  buildings, mostly dating from the 19th or early 20th century, have been preserved. Some of the surrounding narrow lanes, in 2006, still maintained a hint of the past. However, beyond high construction walls lay nothing but the rubble of traditional buildings.

an early view of Dacisi monastery, which once housed up to 10,000 monks

While living in Chengdu I purchased a fascinating book of photographs by 周安 Zhou An, titled Chinese Folkways Memory of a City (see illustrations reproduced below). He had set out to document the everyday lives of the residents of the Dacisi area in traditional houses, with much of their activity taking place in the street or lane. The result was a book that showed “…the myriad cultural activities that take place on the streets in ancient Chengdu…. streets were the primary work and leisure places for civilians.”[1]

Chinese Folkways Memory of a City 城市的 记忆 Edited by 曾大毛 Zeng Damao Photographed by 周安 Zhou An 出版社:四川美术出版社    Chengdu, Sichuan, 2006

Dacisi 大慈寺, Chengdu, Sichuan. Photograph by 周安 Zhou An, Chinese Folkways Memory of a City

Here is a selection of photographs taken by 周安 Zhou An in the Dacisi area, scanned from the book pictured above. The photos document the daily life of the area before the residents were moved out, and the district was turned into a tourist shopping and leisure zone.

The book documents a way of life in China that has all but disappeared in large cities: a life lived low to the ground, filled with street activity, in close relationship with neighbors. It was a life replaced with market-rate housing, huge clusters of concrete apartment blocks accommodating a mass influx of people to the cities, and tourist-oriented shopping and leisure zones. “Urbanization, economic development and growing tourism are major factors fueling the transition of commercialized historic zones. However, under different initiative and preservation methods, the integrity of conserved heritages varies.” [2]

The Preface to Chinese Folkways Memory of a City outlines the clearing out of the residential area:

   In June 2002, the resettlement and rehabilitation project was launched in Daci Temple area. Except those newly built and ancient building, those old houses around Daci Temple, which are of area over 250mu, would be demolished. And 25 blocks, including 4,000 houeholds and 10,000 residents, would be involved, i.e. Shamao Street, Qingyun Street, Xizigong Street, East Kangshi Street, Shuyuan Street, Est Shuncheng Street (south section) and Tianxianqiao Street, etc. The area for rehabilitation totaled up to 230,000 square meters. The Daci area would preserve its ancient architectural ensemble and build Chinese-featured low-rise architectural complex, which form the architectural style in the styles of Ming and Qing dynasties and make the area a traditional pedestrian focus of culture and commerce.

CHENGDU, CHINA - MARCH 6:  (CHINA OUT)  Chinese people play mahjong at a demolition site in Dacisi Area on March 6, 2005 in Chengdu of Sichuan Province, China. The Dacisi Area is an old residential zone with a lot of historic buildings dating hundreds of years back. According to the government, they are demolishing shabby houses to transform Dacisi into economic and technological development area.  (Photo by China Photos/Getty Images)

Here is what has replaced the historic and once vibrant neighborhood around Dacisi: a shopping and leisure district called Taikoo Li:

Sino-Ocean Taikoo Li Chengdu promotional brochure [click here to see brochure in PDF]

Site plan of Taikoo Li with preserved historic structures (see legend); the Dacisi monastery complex and six other buildings from the ancient area were retained. [click here to view larger size]

the preserved historic structures incorporated into the Taikoo Li complex [click here to view larger size]; preceding images are from the Taikoo Li promotional brochure linked above.

The core buildings of Dacisi monastery were preserved (see diagram above), along with six early 20th-century (late Qing dynasty) structures nearby. However, the atmosphere of a real neighborhood where people lived is gone; the "Chinese traditional style" commercial buildings create a pleasant atmosphere, but have nothing to do with Chengdu's past.

There's a term for such developments that replace China's actual history with fake or imagined history: fanggu. Describing Kuan Zhai Xiang Zi (Wide and Narrow Lanes), a prime tourist destination in Chengdu:

“It’s all counterfeit—it’s fake,” said Zhang Xianjin, a retired professor of architecture, when I met him at a nearby teahouse .... “It has no historical value...”  The Wide and Narrow Lanes were a typical example of fanggu, he said, a term that literally means “imitating the old,” but has become synonymous with the fakery of historical buildings. Throughout the country, fanggu has been China’s answer to its own destructive past. With few actual relics or old buildings left to preserve, the government has instead chosen to rebuild them as they might have looked in their prime.

Beam, Christopher, “Chengdu, China Gets a Modern Makeover,” Travel + Leisure, November 10, 2015 https://www.travelandleisure.com/trip-ideas/chengdu-china-modern-makeover

Much of the Dacisi area had already been leveled before I arrived in Chengdu in 2006.[3] I took many photographs over the next several years, as what little traditional street life remained was slowly pushed aside. Here is a selection of my photographs: 

portion of an old wall with an inscribed brick

a traditional "basket weave" building in 马家巷 Majia Alley; the outer wall surface between the wood joists would have been plastered over.

looking through a broken wall, Dacisi

peaceful alley; this was one of my favorite spots in Chengdu; the walls actually surrounded already-demolished areas

another wall, with detail of the clay tile ornament at the top

mahjong game, 马家巷 Majia Alley

the building called "Majiaxiang Ashram"

the building called "Majiaxiang Ashram"

the two buildings at 7 and 8 Zhanghuali Lane are now a high-end spa and tea house

old well, Dacisi residential area

what remains: pottery shards

carved details

barriers

the historic wall and gateway of an old scribes’ office, the Bitieshi Building 

detail of tile wall decoration, Guangdong Guild Hall 

Zen Tea House inside Dacisi

detail of a courtyard inside one of the preserved historic buildings

5000 years of culture is a term used often here to describe the confusion that often arises when West meets East on the Mainland, but 50 years of destruction is a term not often heard….The damage done to Han culture, the culture supposedly representing the vast majority of Mainland Chinese over the past few decades is immeasurable.

But Old Chengdu is virtually dead. The last remnants of what once a cultural capital are locked in a battle for their lives with the local government, who is more interested in a candy-coated refurbishing of the area than in the 1000 years of culture and history the neighborhood represents. And while the old city is under siege and rampant construction and development turns the city’s waterways into cesspools, the Chengdu Government wanders around in a dreamland.

The old parts of any large city in China are going or gone…. If one were to take photos of the skylines of Shenzhen, Taiyuan and Chengdu, there would be no discernible difference. And there would be no old city to offset the sterility.

Matuszak, Sascha, “The 50-Year Communist Assault on 5000 Years of Chinese Culture,” AntiWar.com https://original.antiwar.com/sascha-matuszak/2004/02/28/the-50-year-communist-assault-on-5000-years-of-chinese-culture/

le vieux Chengdu n'est plus---xiaomifeng on Flickr 

NOTES:

[1] Yang, Qianran, Success and Failure of Historic Preservation: The Cases of Chengdu, Kawagoe, and Williamsburg, senior thesis. (Brandeis University, 2016).

Yang continues, "while the visitors may be impressed by China’s modernization and rapid economic growth, they are disappointed by the missing distinctiveness of its Eastern culture" (both citations p. 4). Speaking of the Chengdu government's transformation of authentic historic areas by "degrading them into gimmicks for commerce," Yang goes on to contrast today's tourist areas in the city with the neighborhoods' original functions:

[2] Same source, p. 4.

Located in a subtropical region, this city has a climate characterized by fairly mild winters and humid summers, [and such] conditions fostered a unique street culture. In the book Street Culture in Chengdu, the author Di Wong emphasizes a combination of physical structures that lined the streets and the myriad cultural activities that take place on the streets in ancient Chengdu…. streets were the primary work and leisure places for civilians. Ordinary residents would formerly hold all sorts of communal activities on these open, easily accessible streets, which granted freedom and interaction to the public. To the performers of folk arts, the street was their stage; to hawkers, the street was their market; to children, the street was their playground; to people of Chengdu, the street was the place where they grew up.

Yang, p. 18

[3]

Most old houses in historic districts were with bad quality and lack of infrastructure, and with the time passing by, the residents in historic districts were often not the owners. This complex ownership and poor living quality made the inhabitants build new structures to accommodate demands of new generations without order. Those reasons made fire protection become a risk, and the deficiency of infrastructure become a problem.

However, this has usually been a top-down process, without participation of local residents:

As the need for local government to get profit from historic district or other cultural carriers, the regeneration is usually in a commercial way. It sometimes makes historic districts lose their own character. Furthermore, it may ignore genius loci and historical significance.

Yin, Hsiaoting, Tsinghua University, China, "Trends of Preserving Historic Districts," 48th ISOCARP Congress 2012: Issues in the Trends and Methods of Preserving Historic Districts in Today’s China: Case Study of Three Cities.