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hummingbird-of-light · 5 months ago

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June of Doom 2024 Day 20 (@juneofdoom)

20. “I can handle it.”

| Scrape | Panic Attack | Neglect |

Mr. Keenser already knew when he boarded the submarine that it would be his last mission. He was no longer the youngest and slowly but surely he just wanted to retire and leave the exploration of the deep sea to the younger men and women.

He had worked as an engineer and marine biologist for so many years. He had discovered the most beautiful reefs and the strangest creatures, explored so many miles of the sheer endless expanse of the seas. It had been a wonderful time and he had enjoyed every day.

But his bones were not getting any younger and as he descended the ladder into the submarine, he realized that he had become very old indeed. He was so much slower than he had been a few years ago.

"Are you sure you want to join us on this exploration tour, sir?" a young Russian man with blond curls asked him. The name of the youngest crew member was Pavel Chekov.

"I can handle it, boy," Keenser grumbled back. He wasn't really a man of big words, but on his last mission he wanted to at least try to talk a little more.

"Don't worry about Mr. Keenser, laddie. I've worked alongside him for many years now and he's the fittest old geezer I ken."

A middle-aged Scotsman patted Keenser on the shoulder with a grin as he reached the bottom of the ladder and joined the rest of the crew.

Keenser said nothing. He knew Montgomery Scott and his manner all too well.

In addition to the three men, there were two other members present who were already taking care of the initial adjustments to the systems. Hikaru Sulu and James T. Kirk. With them, the crew was complete.

The hatch of the submarine was quickly closed and the small group set off into the depths of the water.

It wasn't long before they came across the first fish and other sea creatures. Even though Keenser had seen some representatives of this species so often, they still fascinated him again and again.

There was just so much to see and even if a small part of the deep sea had already been explored and mapped, there was a much larger part that was still waiting to be discovered. But Keenser would no longer be one of the men and women who would make these great discoveries. And that made him extremely wistful.

"What's that up ahead? Can you see it too?" asked Sulu, who was maneuvering the submarine, snapping Keenser out of his thoughts.

Everyone looked in the direction in which the young Asian was pointing.

Keenser could hear Chekov next to him draw in a sharp breath. And he also sensed an equally anxious feeling.

A huge monster was swimming just a few miles away from them. It resembled an octopus, but was much bigger. Sharp teeth protruded from a large mouth. It was fascinating and terrifying at the same time.

"I'll record it with the cameras. Can you circle it from a safe distance?" Kirk asked, staring at the creature as if spellbound.

Sulu nodded and slowly the submarine moved through the dark water.

Keenser didn't know what had triggered it – a wrong move, a noise, too bright a light – but suddenly the creature rushed straight towards them.

"Retreat!" the elder quickly ordered, but the small submarine did not manage to escape the giant creature. Tentacles closed around the hull and the men tried everything to free the submarine from the monster's grip, but they failed miserably.

There was only one way out of this situation. The escape pods!

"Hurry! We've got to get out of here!" Kirk shouted as the alarm systems activated. The monster began to crush the hull of the submarine!

The men rushed to the escape pods and Keenser was just about to climb into one when he heard swearing.

He looked to the side and realized that Scott was standing in front of one of the pods, shaking his head frantically.

"The escape pod is broken!" he shouted in shock and Keenser swallowed hard. He knew there was only one thing he could do.

"Get in," he ordered, pointing his head towards the escape pod he had just been about to get into.

Scott gave him a shocked look.

"But, Mr. Keenser, that –"

"Get in!"

The Scotsman was slow to follow the order. Tears were in his eyes as Keenser nodded to him once more.

"Thank you, sir," Scott breathed and Keenser knew he was doing the right thing.

It was his last mission. He had known it from the start. The water seeped through the bursting seams, but that was the least of Keenser's worries. Panic gripped his heart and his breathing fastened. Never before in his life had he been so scared. Never before had his beloved sea been so cruel and deadly. The last thing he saw through the glass was the monster's huge opening maw before it swallowed the submarine and its last passenger.

#juneofdoom #june of doom 2024 #day 20 #whump #whump challenge #i can handle it #panic attack #star trek #fanfiction #keenser #pavel chekov #montgomery scott #hikaru sulu #james t kirk #marine biologist au #thalassophobia #sea monster #major character death #mega_whumps_characters

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freakydoq · 2 months ago

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Fish out of water - Merman TF

(This story is intended 18+)

Kennedy nervously waited in line at the clinic. He had been on an hrt waitlist for a few months now, and while the original clinic hadn't called him yet, a new one, just a half an hour away, did. Ken felt alright with his body, but he wanted to feel at home, and he figured trying couldn't hurt. After all, if it doesn't help, he could just stop, right?

His boyfriend, Shrimp, was supportive of this endeavor, and originally wanted to go with him to the clinic. Unfortunately, however, he had a family emergency, and would be out of town for a week. They had planned to call every night, but Shrimp had been really busy after arrival, and was unable to call at all.

As the line got shorter, Kennedy's heart raced. He was both nervous and excited, his life was, hopefully, going to change. He was ready to love his body. He approached the counter and handed the receptionist his documents. They smiled at him, scanned his I.D., and gave it back with a clipboard.

"Here you go! Fill this sheet out and we'll call you back shortly." she said, her voice was pleasant, and Ken relaxed a little.

"Thank you!" he said, and found himself a seat. Looking at the paper, it started out normal, with some general medicine and self history questions, but as it went on, it had some silly questions that you might ask a child. One in particular being the following;

Which do you wish to become most? (circle answer)

Mermaid | Dragon | Centaur

Maybe it was to calm patients nerves? Kennedy thought, harder than most people would, about this question. When he was a kid, he loved to swim. He doesn't swim nearly as much now, but he still enjoys the feeling of water flowing around him. Imagining the fish swimming around him, and the gorgeous underwater reefs, his mermaid friends collecting seashells and helping hermit crabs into their new homes just made his tail wag with joy.

He circled 'mermaid', and went to answer the next question, but a door opened and he heard his name being called. He jumped.

"Kennedy?"

"Yes! I'm here!" He said, as he jogged awkwardly over to the nurse. She took his clipboard and began leading him down the hallway.

"Sorry," he said quietly, "I wasn't able to finish the whole questionnaire."

"No worries," the nurse said, taking a look at the page. "You filled out everything important. Right this way, you'll be in room 3."

Room three was fairly empty. There was an examination chair, a counter with a sink, and an intimidating syringe on a wheely cart. His heart sank.

"Um, excuse me," he whined. He was supposed to be being put on pills. "What's... the syringe for?"

"Dear, that's for your replacement therapy."

"I wasn't aware it was a one-time... injection." he said. He didn't know if he was ready to do this anymore, he was very scared of needles.

"Don't worry dear. It's not as bad as it looks, and we're very certain that it's safe. The doctor will be in shortly to give you your injection, and in only a week or so, you'll feel undeniably yourself!"

"How does it... work?" he tentatively asked. Only a week? It seemed pretty fast compared to the hrt he originally planned to be on. He would've had to take weekly suppliments over multiple years. Maybe he could just suck it up, this one time.

"Well, the injection contains a chemical similar enough to your own dna, that your body will accept and slowly integrate into your being. Over time, it replaces your dna. Instead of constantly artificially boosting certain chemical levels, it makes it so that your body naturally changes itself into your desired expression."

Kennedy gulped. This seemed scary, but also, really cool. He would be completely changed by Shrimps return! Sure, he wanted to be there during it, but imagine coming home to a confident and happy partner after a long, stressful trip.

"Is there a reversal treatment?" Just in case he wasn't happy with the changes, he had to ask.

"If you so desire one, yes. We offer it here at the clinic, however, nobody who has taken our form of hrt has asked for it. We're quite confident here that you'll be satisfied." the nurse checked her watch. "I apologize, i have other patients to get to. Don't worry, dear. It will be over in no time."

She gently closed the door, and returned to her duties. Ken sat down on the chair, and tried to relax. He decided to go through with it before, and there's no backing out now. He heard a knock outside, and the door swung open once more. A tall, pink-haired nekomimi came in. He had round glasses and a lab coat- very stereotypical. If Ken had been any less nervous, he would have found it silly.

"Hello, how are we feeling today?" the doctor said, as he snapped some latex gloves on his hands. "I'm Sebastian, I'll be administering your shot. You ready?"

“Awuf!” Kennedy yelped. That sneaky doctor, he had lowered his guard. But, as much as it startled him, it didn't hurt as bad as he thought. His arm tingled, so he pawed at it, but the doctor gently blocked him.

Ken's tail was stiff, and his heart pounded. He nodded and closed his eyes tight. The doctor rolled a chair over beside Ken, patted his back, and rolled up Ken's sleeve.

“You know, I would've chosen mermaid too.” said Sebastian. “Dragons are way too big for a lab, and a centaur can't properly experience a recliner.” Kennedy loosened up for a second and looked at the doctor quizzically. He had good points, but on such a silly topic. Especially when you work as a-

“I don't recommend doing that just yet. Your cells and dna will be hard at work very soon, and we wouldn't want to risk the process. For the first few days, you're going to feel ill, but that will all clear up in no time.”

Ken looked up at him, and Sebastian smiled down. The lights glinted off his glasses and completely obscured his eyes in an almost sinister way.

"Have a good rest of your life, Kennedy"

"Ahm... Thank you." Ken said as he moved towards the door. Sebastian opened it for him, and he exited down the hallway. He resisted the urge to rub his arm all the way home.

Part of the way through the drive, Kennedy felt awfully thirsty. He saw a drive-thru restaurant, and pulled in to order a cup of water. It was tastier than usual, and he just couldn't get enough of it. He stopped by several more drive-thrus on the way, and when he finally reached home, he immediately hit the sink.

He felt unbearably hot, and so incredibly thirsty. It had been less than an hour since he got his injection, could the 'ill feelings' be starting already? He lapped cold water right up from the faucet until he couldn't drink anymore, and then he just kept drinking. He went down the hallway and turned the a/c on blast before stripping down and collapsing onto his bed. He didn't bother with a blanket, he was much too hot for that. He thought, his last thought before passing out completely;

"I hope this is over soon."

Kennedy felt as if he couldn't sleep enough, though in actuality, he had slept for two days. He deliriously rolled over and contemplated a third, but his body felt unusually stiff- alarmingly stiff, in fact. During his sleep, his fever had passed, and he was now all wrapped up in his previously discarded blankets. His legs felt wrapped up especially tight, and felt very odd as he tried to move them. As he woke up more and more, he noticed how bad he had to pee. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and began unwrapping himself out of the blanket.

Kennedy swung his heavy legs over the side of the bed and began to stand up- when he buckled atop them. He groaned and pushed himself to the side, stretching out, and seeing for the first time, what was really up with his legs. He gasped in horror as he processed what was in front of him- his legs were no longer legs; they were fused together right down the middle, and where his feet once were, was now a large nub of flesh and bone.

He put his hands over his mouth and tried not to panic. He wouldn't be able to walk on this, whatever his legs now are. His first instinct was to call Shrimp, but when Ken looked up at his dresser, he cursed- his phone was in the kitchen. He felt pressure on his bladder again, he still had to pee, but how could he? His legs weren't the only change he had experienced, his penis was no longer external, it had receded into a newly formed slit in the same area. He felt it inside, but how the hell was he supposed to pee with it like that?

He had too many things happening at once. He took a deep, shaky breath, and used his arms to push himself towards his bathroom. He was going to tackle these problems one at a time. As he dragged himself along, he realized just how heavy he is. He wasn't sure if he was heavier due to his new lump leg, or if he'd always been this heavy, but man, his arms were getting tired. He shoved open the bathroom door, and his frustration grew when he saw the toilet.

He looked down at himself, back up at the toilet, and then at himself once more. There's no way he'd be able to use a human toilet if he couldn't stand up to aim. He was already about ready to burst, and he did not want to add cleaning the bathroom to this mess. He looked around for a cup or container he could go in, and his eyes settled on the shower.

Quickly heaving himself over the side of tub, he propped himself up against the wall and took a moment to breathe. He was trying his absolute best to keep his panic under control, but the more he looked at himself, the worse he felt. He gingerly touched the area around his slit, and when he did, the tip of his penis poked out. He was startled by it, but relieved to see that it still looked the same as before. He relaxed, knowing he could use it like normal, but as he did, everything flooded out. It extended completely, and two days worth of piss ran down him.

Kens angst returned more intense than ever as he was unable to stop. He felt humiliated as the hot piss continued to stream. Just as he was truly gaining hold of his situation, he had to go and ruin it all, and that was almost a tipping point. His eyes watered, but instead of giving up, he reached up and turned on the shower head. It was detached, and Ken was easily able to wash himself off. He didn't bother to wait for warm water, but his penis felt the cold, and receded into the seemingly protective slit once again. He hoisted himself back onto the side of the tub, finished rinsing, and finally dried himself off. He exhaled again, and began working his way towards the kitchen.

He took another towel from the floor cabinet, and folded it up before lowering himself onto it. This way, he could slide across the floor instead of drag. He still didn't know what was happening to him, but the longer he was in this situation, the more it weighed on him, and the more he wanted to ignore it. He just had to get to his phone. Then, it would be okay. He wouldn't be alone.

Thankfully, their house was relatively compact. It was a straight line, from Shrimp and Ken's bedroom, through the hallway, and to the kitchen. He could see his phone on the table, and he pushed himself up on to a chair to get it. His phone was powered off because of inactivity, but not dead, amazingly. As he waited for it to turn on, he draped the towel over his lower body. Sitting on the chair, so long as he didn't move what were once his legs, he felt close to normal. He watched the loading circle on his screen go round and round before fully powering on, and once it did, he went straight to dial Shrimp. It rang, and rang, and rang.

His breath caught in his chest as it continued on and on. He heard the robotic voice of the voicemail taking over. He shook his head, hung up, and dialed again. Voicemail again. He balled up his fists and called another time. Voicemail. Shrimp wasn't picking up.

At once, all of the emotions he had been suppressing so hard flooded out. He broke down completely, tears flowing from his face as all of the questions he didn't want to ask himself alone barreled into his mind.

What's wrong with my legs?

How is this possible?

What the hell was in that shot?

What kind of freak am I becoming?

And most importantly:

Is Shrimp even going to love me after this?

He put his head down and buried his face in his arms as he cried, and he cried until he had no energy left. Finally, tired and empty, he folded the towel once more, dragged himself to the nearest couch, and fell asleep, silently hoping that when he woke up, his legs would be normal, and it would have just been a nightmare. Deep down, though, his soul knew that it wasn't.

Another nine hours passed, and Kennedy woke up. Still stiff, and still changing. He didn't even have to open his eyes to know, he could feel it from the first moment. Pushing himself up, he leaned up against the arm of the couch and uncovered his lower half. Even though he knew what he'd see, his heart still sank. There were new developments, his skin was very dry and had begun to flake off, revealing a hot pink, scaly layer, and he had started growing what looked to be fins on the sides of him.

Very slowly, his mind turned. If there had been someone else in the room, they would have seen it all over his face; He was beginning to understand. When he had first entered the clinic, they had given him the clipboard. The clipboard with all the childish questions, the clipboard he had circled 'Mermaid' on. His legs were forming a tail, his anatomy was that of a fish, and now he knew why he was so damn thirsty. The hrt shot wasn't a hormone replacement therapy shot, it was a Human replacement therapy shot; and he had just taken his first, and last, dose.

Kennedy completely shut down. He absent-mindedly picked the skin off his new tail. It stung, but he continued, as he stared off into nothing. The clinic claimed to offer reversal, but Sebastian said nobody had ever asked for it. He was now unable to drive, and even if he took a taxi there, he felt too much like a freak to go out. He still had his floppy ears, which are canine, and not a mermans trait; However, they hadn't shown any signs of change. He looked genetically mismatched, and felt wrong.

In the back of his mind, he could hear his ringtone blaring in the other room, while his phones text-to-speech called out: Call from Shrimp- Boyfie <3

He left it to ring. He didn't have the energy to go and pick it up, and if he had, what would he even say? How could he break this to him over the phone? His puppydog boyfriend, whom he loved so much, is different. He wasn't even the same species anymore, what if his mind began to change too? What if this wasn't the end. These questions devastated Kennedy, and even though this transformation had not affected his mind, and didn't seem to have any plan to, his anxiousness and newly intense self-hatred were working as a team to propose the worlds worst 'what-ifs'.

His phone rang again, again from Shrimp. Kennedy just grabbed the back pillow off the couch and buried his head in it, crying once more. He felt utterly hopeless and alone, there was nothing he could do about himself that would fix this. He waited until Shrimp finally stopped calling, and then looked up the living room. The remote for the tv was next to him on the side table, and since he didn't want to get his phone, he decided to watch that.

He booted it up and started flipping though channels. He could watch Bluey, or, they seemed to be rerunning Gravity Falls, though he had already seen both of those. The news channel was documenting an activist groups arrest... oh? It was in his county. That interested Ken, he sniffled and clicked the channel.

On the screen, he saw cops from all kinds of areas, a sealed off building, some confinscated vials, and what looked to be scientists, angry and screaming while being loaded into the back of police cars.

"The activist group known as 'The agency of Equality' has finally been located, and apprehended, for their biogenetic crimes against unsuspecting civilians. The group, originally known for their passionate stance on ending species biases and day-to-day discrimination, had their agenda turn dark, just this past year, when the head scientist, Sebastian Nicholson, which we suspect may not be his real name, named peaceful protest ineffective. "

Kennedy watched in silence, as a mugshot was thrown up on screen. The doctor who administered his shot stared back at him.

"Under interrogation, Sebastian revealed that their plan of action was to 'tip the scales' over on species who have never experienced organized discrimination, using the chemicals in these vials, a supplement of his own development."

A set of vials appeared on screen, and Ken recognized them as the same as the vial he had been injected with earlier this week. That made no sense! He had gone to a real, certified clinic... he wanted to say, but he couldn't.

He watched further in hopes of the reporter announcing a reversal or cure for the victims, but that never came.

"We extend our condolences to the affected. If you, or someone you know, is a victim of this crime, call the number below, and join our research team."

Kennedy's hope disappeared altogether. That "research team" was most likely just a place for people to be experimented on. There was no way he was calling that number- if he did, they couldn't guarantee reversal anyways. They arrested the only guy who could.

"Arghh!" He grabbed his head. All of his combined emotions were splitting his thoughts into fractions, and the more he tried to escape thinking about his situation, the more he learned about it. Now he knew for certain; he was stuck like this, forever. Slowly, he picked up the remote, and shut off the tv. As it clicked off, something also clicked in his brain. He had gone through almost all the stages of grief already, and it was time for acceptance. This wasn't going to change, nothing could fix this, and it was time to move on.

For the remainder of Kennedy's time without Shrimp, He learned how to move around efficiently, and properly take care of himself. He bought a furniture dolly and had it delivered to the house, which was much better than the towel method. He still couldn't hardly bear to see himself, but thankfully, he was too close to the ground to look in the bathroom mirror. He had two more days left before Shrimp was set to come home, and then he'd have to face him, but until then, Kennedy was going to ignore that problem until that moment; unfortunately intentionally avoiding checking his calls and texts.

He wanted to write out what he'd say, and what he'd do if Shrimp took it badly, just to be prepared for the worst- and he couldn't with good conscience, text him normally after so much had happened. He settled into bed, thinking of a full plan for the next couple of days. The plan that was effortlessly shattered the next morning, by the 'click' of his unlocking front door.

The closer he came, the less Kennedy remembered what he wanted to say to him. He opened his mouth to holler that he was alright, but the words were held back by his shock.

He woke up in a panic. What was happening? Was someone breaking in? Kennedy heard the door open, and within seconds, his nose picked up a very familiar scent. Shrimp was home- early. He didn't know what to do. What could he do? He scrambled out of bed, falling on the ground with an embarrassing thud. He hit the ground hard, and his eyes watered. His heart pounded in his chest as fear and adrenaline took hold of his mind. He dragged himself to the bathroom and shut the door.

"Ken?" Shrimps muffled voice called. "You alright? I heard you... fall?"

"Kenney, honey, I'm coming in, okay? You're worrying me, I can hear you breathing pretty hard."

"I saw I missed your calls, you never call me first... You didn't call me back, so I cut things short and came home. Are you in there?" Oh god, Kennedy thought. This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to have more time!

But now, Shrimp was outside the bathroom door. He didn't have time to prepare any more. The doorknob wiggled, then turned.

"No! Don't!" Kennedy yelped, but the door was already opening. He jumped into the bathtub and pulled the curtain over himself to hide. He could hear Shrimp pause, confused. He didn't understand, not until he pulled the shower curtain back, and saw Kennedy, for the first time in six days.

“What… happened?” He looked Kennedy dead in the eyes, and Ken could read his emotions like a book. He wasn't disgusted or afraid, he was concerned, and it was plain as day. He took a breath, and explained everything, starting from the surprise clinic call, all the way to the news report. Shrimp nodded along as he talked, still holding his hand. Kennedy felt so good getting it all out; seeing Shrimp be so understanding eased his worries and soothed him to the core. After he finished recounting the events, Shrimp reached over and hugged him tightly.

Kennedy couldn’t shield himself any further, no matter how small he wished himself to be. Shrimps mouth hung open as he took a step back, his eyes darting all over Ken. He covered his face with his hands, rubbed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Kennedy trembled in the bathtub, waiting for a response- any response. Shrimp said nothing. He reached into the bathtub, slowly with both hands, and began to lift Ken out. Kennedy swallowed his tears and held on to Shrimp, as he walked him to the bed, placed him in it, and sat on his usual side. Ken started to cover himself up with the blanket, but Shrimp placed his hand on Kens, stopping him.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you."

"I... should have waited for you." Kens heart twisted. He really should've, and that made him feel guilt like no other.

"Don't fret it. Promise me?" Shrimp said. He caressed Ken's cheek. "Looks like we'll just have to find a morning jog alternative! I'll go make us some breakfast."

Honestly, for Ken, that didn't sound too incredibly bad. Shrimp was very athletic, and he loved to run in the morning on the weekends. Kennedy did not like to run, but he loved his boyfriend, so he always went with. Now, he would never have to run again... but he didn't want to stop Shrimp from enjoying his weekend morning routine. He started to brainstorm ways that he could still go with, and he got quite lost in thought while Shrimp himself brainstormed in the kitchen. He imagined himself in a wagon first. That would put stress on Shrimp, to pull him along, and that's the opposite of his goal. Next, he thought about laying longways on a longboard, using his hands to propel himself! He'd be quite low to the ground, however, and he could get hurt. Plus, would he even fit on a longboard? Finally, an image appeared like lightning in his brain. He needed to get a wheelchair.

Shrimp came back to the bedroom with two trays full of breakfast. He started to hand one to Kennedy, but halting halfway through the motion to give him a side-eye, before asking if he can still eat regular food. Ken nodded and reached out. He hadn't encountered any new allergies, so he figured it was a safe assumption. As they ate, Shrimp told him about his trip. His sister was in the hospital, thankfully nothing extremely major, but his family is full of worriers, so they had him come down anyways.

Kennedy proposed the idea of a wheelchair, and they began to look into it. It would be quite expensive, but way worth it in the long run. He would be able to go out again! The prospect was exciting. Ken and Shrimp set up a donation page with his story, and people moved by his experiences helped them to save up enough within just a few weeks. He slowly worked up the courage to call his mom and siblings, and while they were completely shocked, they still loved and supported him. His youngest sister, who was only six, was very excited to have a merman in the family. She didn't understand the gravity of the situation, which everyone agreed was alright.

Slowly but surely, Ken and Shrimps lives went back to normal. Occasionally, friends of theirs they didn't think to tell would find out and be surprised, but that became far and few between. Nobody except old and closed minded individuals mocked Ken for being a semi-mer 'freak,' and while Ken occasionally struggled, overall, he grew to be alright.

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elementalgod-aj · 1 year ago

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Anthro Allies Remastered (Part 1)

Reuploading the Anthro Allies but this time in group pictures.

first things first from Humble beginnings of evolution

Porifera

Domb (Barrel Sponge)

Squeeze (Yellow Tube Sponge)

Wud (Blue Comb Sponge)

Ctenophore

Nee-Ko (Cigar Comb Jelly)

Ken-Po (Arctic Comb Jelly)

Dede (Glower Comb Jelly)

Placozoa

Yas (Trichoplex)

Xenacoelomorpha

Xenaco (Xenoturbella Japonica)

Cnidarians (Note This picture doesn't show the actual sizes of Lavey and Zoralia who are much larger)

Zoralia (Hard Coral Reef)

Pansy (Sea Pansy)

Fan (Sea Fan)

Whip (Sa Whip)

Pan (Sea pan)

Nieo (Magnificent Sea Anemone)

Divide (Aggregating Sea Anemone)

Lavey (Giant Siphonophore)

Addison (Sea Nettle Jellyfish)

Chionex (Box Jelly)

(For More Information About The Earthdemons, Neo demons, The Anthro allies , the O'Kong family and more of theses characters as well as updates please visit the @the-earthdemon-hub for more)

#elementalgod aj #aj the elementalgod #my art #my oc #Toonverse oc #The Watchful Eye #watchful eye #my ocs #O'Kong Family #Neo Demons #Earthdemons #Anthro allies #isle 0 #porifera #ctenophora #placozoa #xenacoelomorpha #cnidarians

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awardseason · 2 years ago

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21st Annual Visual Effects Society Awards — Film Winners

Outstanding Visual Effects in a Photoreal Feature Avatar: The Way of Water – Richard Baneham, Walter Garcia, Joe Letteri, Eric Saindon, JD Schwalm — WINNER Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore – Christian Mänz, Olly Young, Benjamin Loch, Stephane Naze, Alistair Williams Jurassic World: Dominion – David Vickery, Ann Podlozny, Jance Rubinchik, Dan Snape, Paul Corbould The Batman – Dan Lemmon, Bryan Searing, Russell Earl, Anders Langlands, Dominic Tuohy Top Gun: Maverick – Ryan Tudhope, Paul Molles, Seth Hill, Bryan Litson, Scott Fisher

Outstanding Supporting Visual Effects in a Photoreal Feature Death on the Nile – George Murphy, Claudia Dehmel, Mathieu Raynault, Jonathan Bowen, David Watkins I Wanna Dance With Somebody – Paul Norris, Tim Field, Don Libby, Andrew Simmonds The Fabelmans – Pablo Helman, Jennifer Mizener, Cernogorods Aleksei, Jeff Kalmus, Mark Hawker The Gray Man – Swen Gilberg, Viet Luu, Bryan Grill, Cliff Welsh, Michael Meinardus The Pale Blue Eye – Jake Braver, Catherine Farrell, Tim Van Horn, Scott Pritchard, Jeremy Hays Thirteen Lives – Jason Billington, Thomas Horton, Denis Baudin, Michael Harrison, Brian Cox — WINNER

Outstanding Visual Effects in an Animated Feature Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio – Aaron Weintraub, Jeffrey Schaper, Cameron Carson, Emma Gorbey, Mad God, Chris Morley, Phil Tippett, Ken Rogerson, Tom Gibbons — WINNER Strange World – Steve Goldberg, Laurie Au, Mark Hammel, Mehrdad Isvandi The Bad Guys– Pierre Perifel, Damon Ross, Matt Baer, JP Sans The Sea Beast – Joshua Beveridge, Christian Hejnal, Stirling Duguid, Spencer Lueders Turning Red – Domee Shi, Lindsey Collins, Danielle Feinberg, Dave Hale

Outstanding Animated Character in a Photoreal Feature Avatar: The Way of Water: Kiri – Anneka Fris, Rebecca Louise Leybourne, Guillaume Francois, Jung-Rock Hwang — WINNER Beast: Lion – Alvise Avati, Bora Şahin, Chris McGaw, Krzysztof Boyoko Disney’s Pinocchio: Honest John – Christophe Paradis, Valentina Rosselli, Armita Khanlarpour, Kyoungmin Kim Slumberland: Pig – Fernando Lopes Herrera, Victor Dinis, Martine Chartrand, Lucie Martinetto

Outstanding Animated Character in an Animated Feature Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio: Geppetto – Charles Greenfield, Peter Saunders, Shami Lang-Rinderspacher, Noel Estevez-Baker Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio: Pinocchio – Oliver Beale, Richard Pickersgill, Brian Leif Hansen, Kim Slate — WINNER Strange World: Splat – Leticia Gillett, Cameron Black, Dan Lipson, Louis Jones Turning Red: Panda Mei – Christopher Bolwyn, Ethan Dean, Bill Sheffler, Kureha Yokoo

Outstanding Created Environment in a Photoreal Feature Avatar: The Way of Water: Metkayina Village – Ryan Arcus, Lisa Hardisty, Paul Harris TaeHyoung David Kim Avatar: The Way of Water: The Reef – Jessica Cowley, Joe W. Churchill, Justin Stockton, Alex Nowotny — WINNER Jurassic World Dominion: Biosyn Valley – Steve Ellis, Steve Hardy, Thomas Dohlen, John Seru Slumberland: The Wondrous Cuban Hotel Dream – Daniël Dimitri Veder, Marc Austin, Pavan Rajesh Uppu, Casey Gorton

Outstanding Created Environment in an Animated Feature Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio: In the Stomach of a Sea Monster – Warren Lawtey, Anjum Sakharkar, Javier Gonzalez Alonso, Quinn Carvalho — WINNER Lightyear: T’Kani Prime Forest – Lenora Acidera, Amy Allen, Alyssa Minko, Jose L. Ramos Serrano Strange World: The Windy Jungle – Ki Jong Hong, Ryan Smith, Jesse Erickson, Benjamin Fiske The Sea Beast: The Hunting Ship – Yohan Bang, Enoch Ihde, Denil George Chundangal, John Wallace Wendell & Wild: The Scream Fair – Tom Proost, Nicholas Blake, Colin Babcock, Matthew Paul Albertus Cross

Outstanding Virtual Cinematography in a CG Project ABBA: Voyage – Pär M. Ekberg, John Galloway, Paolo Acri, Jose Burgos Avatar: The Way of Water – Richard Baneham, Dan Cox, Eric Reynolds, A.J Briones — WINNER Prehistoric Planet – Daniel Fotheringham, Krzysztof Szczepanski, Wei-Chuan Hsu, Claire Hill The Batman: Rain Soaked Car Chase – Dennis Yoo, Michael J. Hall, Jason Desjarlais, Ben Bigiel

Outstanding Model in a Photoreal or Animated Project Avatar: The Way of Water: The Sea Dragon – Sam Sharplin, Stephan Skorepa, Ian Baker, Guillaume Francois — WINNER The Sea Beast – Maxx Okazaki, Susan Kornfeld, Edward Lee, Doug Smith Top Gun: Maverick: F-14 Tomcat – Christian Peck, Klaudio Ladavac, Aram Jung, Peter Dominik Wendell & Wild: Dream Faire – Peter Dahmen, Paul Harrod, Nicholas Blake

Outstanding Effects Simulation in a Photoreal Feature Avatar: The Way of Water: Fire and Destruction – Miguel Perez Senent, Xavier Martin Ramirez, David Kirchner, Ole Geir Eidsheim Avatar: The Way of Water: Water Simulations – Johnathan M. Nixon, David Moraton, Nicolas Illingworth, David Caeiro Cebrian — WINNER Black Panther: Wakanda Forever: City Street Flooding – Matthew Hanger, Alexis Hall, Hang Yang, Mikel Zuloaga Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore – Jesse Parker Holmes, Grayden Solman, Toyokazu Hirai, Rob Richardson

Outstanding Effects Simulation in an Animated Feature Lightyear – Alexis Angelidis, Chris Chapman, Jung-Hyun Kim, Keith Klohn Puss in Boots: The Last Wish – Derek Cheung, Michael Losure, Kiem Ching Ong, Jinguang Huang — WINNER Strange World – Deborah Carlson, Scott Townsend, Stuart Griese, Yasser Hamed The Sea Beast – Spencer Lueders, Dmitriy Kolesnik, Brian D. Casper, Joe Eckroat

Outstanding Compositing & Lighting in Feature Avatar: The Way of Water: Landing Rockets Forest Destruction – Miguel Santana Da Silva, Hongfei Geng, Jonathan Moulin, Maria Corcho Avatar: The Way of Water: Water Integration – Sam Cole, Francois Sugny, Florian Schroeder, Jean Matthews — WINNER The Batman: Rainy Freeway Chase – Beck Veitch, Stephen Tong, Eva Snyder, Rachel E. Herbert Top Gun: Maverick – Saul Davide Galbiati, Jean-Frederic Veilleux, Felix B. Lafontaine, Cynthia Rodriguez del Castillo

Outstanding Special (Practical) Effects in a Photoreal Project Avatar: The Way of Water: Current Machine and Wave Pool – JD Schwalm, Richie Schwalm, Nick Rand, Robert Spurlock — WINNER Black Adam: Robotic Flight – JD Schwalm, Nick Rand, Andrew Hyde, Andy Robot, Mad God, Phil Tippett, Chris Morley, Webster Colcord, Johnny McLeod The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power “Adrift” Middle Earth Storm – Dean Clarke, Oliver Gee, Eliot Naimie, Mark Robson

Emerging Technology Award Avatar: The Way of Water: Depth Comp – Dejan Momcilovic, Tobias B. Schmidt, Benny Edlund, Joshua Hardgrave Avatar: The Way of Water: Facial System – Byungkuk Choi, Stephen Cullingford, Stuart Adcock, Marco Revelant Avatar: The Way of Water: Water Toolset – Alexey Dmitrievich Stomakhin, Steve Lesser, Sven Joel Wretborn, Douglas McHale — WINNER Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio: 3D Printed Metal Armature – Richard Pickersgill, Glen Southern, Peter Saunders, Brian Leif Hansen Turning Red: Profile Mover and CurveNets – Kurt Fleischer, Fernando de Goes, Bill Sheffler

#visual effects society #visual effects society awards #ves awards #ves awards 2023 #winners

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otakween · 2 years ago

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Digimon Adventure 02 (Blind Watch) - Episode 41

They...they really named the Australian kid "Dingo."

Honestly, I had trouble focusing after that, but I still think this was a fun episode. Seeing a bunch of digimon I've only seen in Digimon World 1 was fun and there were so many great scenery shots of Australia and Paris (lol funny how some places are identified by city and some by country).

Digimon introduced: Crabmon, Ebidramon, Coelamon, BigMamemon, MetalMamemon, Mamemon, Giromon

Notes:

-Why did they act like Australians are a bunch of dumb beach bums who are totally unaware of the world's problems? Australians have TV too! Surely they would know about the "monsters" (aside from the chosen kids I mean).

-The focus on the Great Barrier Reef made me kinda sad since it's uh...not doing too hot these days (oh the innocence of the early 2000s)

-I liked the themed digimon in this episode with the water digis in Australia and the uh...spherical digis in France. There's something satisfying about seeing them all together (although the seafood mix gag was a little overdone).

-They did that thing again where the digimon suddenly start talking like pokemon (like, only saying their names over and over). Is it an intelligence thing? Are some digimon just less sentient than others? This was especially noticeable with Anomalocarimon (who has the biggest tongue twister name ever).

-Anomalocarimon has this really weird, feminine sounding voice in the sub. It doesn't fit at all lol

-There were a lot fewer named international digi-destined in this episode. We only really got Dingo/Derek and Catherine and then the other kids were just nameless. Curses! My tendency to obsessively know all the lore will not be fulfilled this time...

-Sick of anime perpetuating the French = blonde stereotype. Almost every French person I've ever met has been brunette. I mean, sure, some of the background kids weren't blonde, so I guess they get points there. But still! France isn't FInland/Sweden.

-Very nice to see Greymon/MetalGreymon for once :') weirdly nostalgic

-The boys kissing Catherine on the cheek was v cute. Seems kinda bold of them, but I guess that's technically a greeting in France so maybe they felt more comfortable lol.

-More of the bad guys creeping on kids. Interested to see where they're going with that...More weaponizing kids like they did with Ken? (Actually, why didn't they think of that sooner? lol)

#digimon adventure 02 #digimon #blind watch #anime

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mrultra100 · 2 years ago

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Ultra's End-of-Year Recap: Electric Boogaloo

Given how little I think of just how much more insane things can get with each passing year, I really wasn’t expecting how my blog was gonna go in 2022, but after joining an ask blog (Kudos to @another-silly-mixels-blog ), now having little more than 80 followers on here, being a major player in spreading the good word on what’s basically the biggest event in paleomedia in the last few years, and my writing and art skills getting significantly better this year…

I should really give these things more thought, huh? Regardless, I should still celebrate all of the good that came tumbling towards this silly blog of mine. Just like last year, I’m capping off ‘22 with a special ‘lil recap of the biggest events to happen to the Ultra Barrier Reef (And that’s a far better name than what this blog was named originally). Seriously, alot has happened this year, and I really couldn’t be more thankful for all of the support I’ve gotten over the years, both from fans and close friends of mine. You are all amazing! I know I said something like it last time (Maybe?), but consider this my early Christmas present, from me to you.

I posted 1,622 times in 2022

209 posts created (13%)

1,413 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mrultra100 (That's me!)

@bogleech

@master-of-gaburincho

@marinebiologyfacts

@thesketchyside

I tagged 1,027 of my posts in 2022

Only 37% of my posts had no tags

#ultra ramblings - 243 posts (Again, I had alot of stupid things to say this year)

#pokemon - 234 posts (Since TWO mainline games came out in the same year, this tag was bound to increase, more than usual)

#prehistoric planet - 140 posts (Anyone remember Alien Worlds? I don't, so watch PHP instead. Make Hank proud)

#pokemon scarlet and violet - 119 posts (Are these games fairly buggy? Yes, yes they are. That still isn't gonna stop me from enjoying what's basically Sun and Moon, but ramped up to 11)

#halloween - 119 posts (Still 2Spooky4U)

#ultra-ween - 116 posts (This was the first time since 2019 that I partook in a monthly drawing challenge. One hell of a trip, lemme tell ya)

#bugsnax - 89 posts (While not as big as all of the Pokemon stuff, the Bigsnax DLC sure did help this one grow a bit)

#my artz - 88 posts (Probably my biggest achievement this year; My art has gotten BETTER)

#johnny test - 60 posts (I'm pretty sure that the 2021 revival is now dead in the water, no thanks to Netflix's legal fucknuttery. Sure as hell ain't gonna stop me from getting ideas for my own hypothetical reboot. Also, there sure were alot of V-Marys tossed around)

#mixels - 56 posts (Part of it involved me joining an ask blog dedicated to this show. It's as fun as it sounds)

Longest Tag: 101 characters

#give me a cinderella stuffing her face with food and a feral fairy godmother who contemplated murder!

My Top Posts in 2022:

When people are making so much fanart and memes of your show, it gets slingshotted into the spotlight, you know you’ve made it as a spiritual successor to one of the biggest cornerstones of paleomedia.

Also, Ken Ham can cry me a river.

177 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

It still boggles my mind that, of all things to happen this year, we got femboy pterosaurs. I'm all here for it, especially if it makes out-of-touch creationists drown in their own tears. Ken Ham must've made a whole ocean of them at this point.

Managed to snag one of the 15 second teasers!

211 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

I understand that this was posted during the PHP hype train, but how did this blew up? Not that I'm complaining or anything, I'm just curious.

"It is a lovely morning in Late Cretaceous Mongolia, and you are a horrible Deinocheirus"

240 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

Of all the many pieces that I made over the course of the year, this might just be my crowning jewel.

CHINCHOU (Unovan Form)

Angler Pokemon

Electric/Ghost

Ability: Shadow Tag/Lightning Rod- Prankster (HA)

“First found within the Unovan abyss, this variant of Chinchou has evolved more bioluminescent lures to attract prey. Not only can these lights attract prey, they leave them in a daze, as if they’re under a trance. When its prey gets close enough, Unovan Chinchou delivers a powerful discharge that stuns them. It’s said that the main source of Unovan Chinchou’s bioluminescence is souls, preferably, the souls of its prey.”

STOMIGHTURN

Abyssal Lure Pokemon

Electric/Ghost

Ability: Shadow Tag/Lightning Rod- Prankster (HA)

“Due to the extreme circumstances of the deep sea, along with competition from other Pokemon, the Chinchou of the Unova region evolve into Stomighturn. Having grown in size, Stomighturn uses the same hunting techniques as its previously-evolved form, only with much more bioluminescent lures. Along with a long barbel that hangs from its lower jaw, parts of Stomighturn’s own skeleton now appear on the creature’s hide, being charged with 1.21 gigawatts of ghastly electricity. This strange beast now requires living prey, as it’s been known to swallow them whole, both their body and soul, with its elastic stomach being capable of trapping prey. This species was first discovered when scientists came across one while testing a bathysphere”

Unovan Chinchou evolves into Stomighturn when at level 27

After seeing @bogleech talking about how Chinchou was a better design than Lanturn, I decided to make a regional form for the lil’ guy, along with adding a new evolution that does both the it and the creatures that it’s based on justice.

258 notes - Posted March 29, 2022

How can you screw up making a deep-sea fish? Some chump at GameFreak somehow messed it up when they made Lanturn a thing, so I just had to do my own take on it.

My #1 post of 2022

ALL ABOARD THE PP HYPE TRAIN!

513 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

If I can be honest with myself, this whole was my Prehistoric Planet Arc. It basically was for alot of people, let's not kid ourselves.

At the end of the day, this was one of the biggest years for the Ultra Barrier Reef. Given that the blog is turning 5 next year, who knows what's gonna happen next? Well, that's the fun part. Down in these shitpost-infested waters, you never know what surprises could bubble up to the surface.

Speaking of surprises, I got an extra-special piece coming up to cap the year off. While you should expect to see that in the next few days, things are gonna be a bit slower for the rest of the year (Mainly due to me taking some time off.).

With all of that said, thank you all so much for the continued support, and I'll be rising back up from the depths next year. Happy Holidays, folks!

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #ultra ramblings

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publicdomainbooks · 2 years ago

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THE SECOND OF THE THREE SPIRITS.(3)

By this time it was getting dark, and snowing pretty heavily; and as Scrooge and the Spirit went along the streets, the brightness of the roaring fires in kitchens, parlours, and all sorts of rooms, was wonderful. Here, the flickering of the blaze showed preparations for a cosy dinner, with hot plates baking through and through before the fire, and deep red curtains, ready to be drawn to shut out cold and darkness. There all the children of the house were running out into the snow to meet their married sisters, brothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, and be the first to greet them. Here, again, were shadows on the window-blind of guests assembling; and there a group of handsome girls, all hooded and fur-booted, and all chattering at once, tripped lightly off to some near neighbour’s house; where, woe upon the single man who saw them enter—artful witches, well they knew it—in a glow!

But, if you had judged from the numbers of people on their way to friendly gatherings, you might have thought that no one was at home to give them welcome when they got there, instead of every house expecting company, and piling up its fires half-chimney high. Blessings on it, how the Ghost exulted! How it bared its breadth of breast, and opened its capacious palm, and floated on, outpouring, with a generous hand, its bright and harmless mirth on everything within its reach! The very lamplighter, who ran on before, dotting the dusky street with specks of light, and who was dressed to spend the evening somewhere, laughed out loudly as the Spirit passed, though little kenned the lamplighter that he had any company but Christmas!

And now, without a word of warning from the Ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor, where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about, as though it were the burial-place of giants; and water spread itself wheresoever it listed, or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner; and nothing grew but moss and furze, and coarse rank grass. Down in the west the setting sun had left a streak of fiery red, which glared upon the desolation for an instant, like a sullen eye, and frowning lower, lower, lower yet, was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night.

“What place is this?” asked Scrooge.

“A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels of the earth,” returned the Spirit. “But they know me. See!”

A light shone from the window of a hut, and swiftly they advanced towards it. Passing through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful company assembled round a glowing fire. An old, old man and woman, with their children and their children’s children, and another generation beyond that, all decked out gaily in their holiday attire. The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howling of the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them a Christmas song—it had been a very old song when he was a boy—and from time to time they all joined in the chorus. So surely as they raised their voices, the old man got quite blithe and loud; and so surely as they stopped, his vigour sank again.

The Spirit did not tarry here, but bade Scrooge hold his robe, and passing on above the moor, sped—whither? Not to sea? To sea. To Scrooge’s horror, looking back, he saw the last of the land, a frightful range of rocks, behind them; and his ears were deafened by the thundering of water, as it rolled and roared, and raged among the dreadful caverns it had worn, and fiercely tried to undermine the earth.

Built upon a dismal reef of sunken rocks, some league or so from shore, on which the waters chafed and dashed, the wild year through, there stood a solitary lighthouse. Great heaps of sea-weed clung to its base, and storm-birds—born of the wind one might suppose, as sea-weed of the water—rose and fell about it, like the waves they skimmed.

But even here, two men who watched the light had made a fire, that through the loophole in the thick stone wall shed out a ray of brightness on the awful sea. Joining their horny hands over the rough table at which they sat, they wished each other Merry Christmas in their can of grog; and one of them: the elder, too, with his face all damaged and scarred with hard weather, as the figure-head of an old ship might be: struck up a sturdy song that was like a Gale in itself.

Again the Ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea—on, on—until, being far away, as he told Scrooge, from any shore, they lighted on a ship. They stood beside the helmsman at the wheel, the look-out in the bow, the officers who had the watch; dark, ghostly figures in their several stations; but every man among them hummed a Christmas tune, or had a Christmas thought, or spoke below his breath to his companion of some bygone Christmas Day, with homeward hopes belonging to it. And every man on board, waking or sleeping, good or bad, had had a kinder word for another on that day than on any day in the year; and had shared to some extent in its festivities; and had remembered those he cared for at a distance, and had known that they delighted to remember him.

It was a great surprise to Scrooge, while listening to the moaning of the wind, and thinking what a solemn thing it was to move on through the lonely darkness over an unknown abyss, whose depths were secrets as profound as Death: it was a great surprise to Scrooge, while thus engaged, to hear a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recognise it as his own nephew’s and to find himself in a bright, dry, gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling by his side, and looking at that same nephew with approving affability!

“Ha, ha!” laughed Scrooge’s nephew. “Ha, ha, ha!”

If you should happen, by any unlikely chance, to know a man more blest in a laugh than Scrooge’s nephew, all I can say is, I should like to know him too. Introduce him to me, and I’ll cultivate his acquaintance.

It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good-humour. When Scrooge’s nephew laughed in this way: holding his sides, rolling his head, and twisting his face into the most extravagant contortions: Scrooge’s niece, by marriage, laughed as heartily as he. And their assembled friends being not a bit behindhand, roared out lustily.

“Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live!” cried Scrooge’s nephew. “He believed it too!”

“More shame for him, Fred!” said Scrooge’s niece, indignantly. Bless those women; they never do anything by halves. They are always in earnest.

She was very pretty: exceedingly pretty. With a dimpled, surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little mouth, that seemed made to be kissed—as no doubt it was; all kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you ever saw in any little creature’s head. Altogether she was what you would have called provoking, you know; but satisfactory, too. Oh, perfectly satisfactory.

“He’s a comical old fellow,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “that’s the truth: and not so pleasant as he might be. However, his offences carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say against him.”

“I’m sure he is very rich, Fred,” hinted Scrooge’s niece. “At least you always tell me so.”

“What of that, my dear!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “His wealth is of no use to him. He don’t do any good with it. He don’t make himself comfortable with it. He hasn’t the satisfaction of thinking—ha, ha, ha!—that he is ever going to benefit US with it.”

“I have no patience with him,” observed Scrooge’s niece. Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, and all the other ladies, expressed the same opinion.

“Oh, I have!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “I am sorry for him; I couldn’t be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill whims! Himself, always. Here, he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won’t come and dine with us. What’s the consequence? He don’t lose much of a dinner.”

“Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner,” interrupted Scrooge’s niece. Everybody else said the same, and they must be allowed to have been competent judges, because they had just had dinner; and, with the dessert upon the table, were clustered round the fire, by lamplight.

“Well! I’m very glad to hear it,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “because I haven’t great faith in these young housekeepers. What do you say, Topper?”

Topper had clearly got his eye upon one of Scrooge’s niece’s sisters, for he answered that a bachelor was a wretched outcast, who had no right to express an opinion on the subject. Whereat Scrooge’s niece’s sister—the plump one with the lace tucker: not the one with the roses—blushed.

“Do go on, Fred,” said Scrooge’s niece, clapping her hands. “He never finishes what he begins to say! He is such a ridiculous fellow!”

Scrooge’s nephew revelled in another laugh, and as it was impossible to keep the infection off; though the plump sister tried hard to do it with aromatic vinegar; his example was unanimously followed.

“I was only going to say,” said Scrooge’s nephew, “that the consequence of his taking a dislike to us, and not making merry with us, is, as I think, that he loses some pleasant moments, which could do him no harm. I am sure he loses pleasanter companions than he can find in his own thoughts, either in his mouldy old office, or his dusty chambers. I mean to give him the same chance every year, whether he likes it or not, for I pity him. He may rail at Christmas till he dies, but he can’t help thinking better of it—I defy him—if he finds me going there, in good temper, year after year, and saying Uncle Scrooge, how are you? If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty pounds, that’s something; and I think I shook him yesterday.”

It was their turn to laugh now at the notion of his shaking Scrooge. But being thoroughly good-natured, and not much caring what they laughed at, so that they laughed at any rate, he encouraged them in their merriment, and passed the bottle joyously.

After tea, they had some music. For they were a musical family, and knew what they were about, when they sung a Glee or Catch, I can assure you: especially Topper, who could growl away in the bass like a good one, and never swell the large veins in his forehead, or get red in the face over it. Scrooge’s niece played well upon the harp; and played among other tunes a simple little air (a mere nothing: you might learn to whistle it in two minutes), which had been familiar to the child who fetched Scrooge from the boarding-school, as he had been reminded by the Ghost of Christmas Past. When this strain of music sounded, all the things that Ghost had shown him, came upon his mind; he softened more and more; and thought that if he could have listened to it often, years ago, he might have cultivated the kindnesses of life for his own happiness with his own hands, without resorting to the sexton’s spade that buried Jacob Marley.

But they didn’t devote the whole evening to music. After a while they played at forfeits; for it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child himself. Stop! There was first a game at blind-man’s buff. Of course there was. And I no more believe Topper was really blind than I believe he had eyes in his boots. My opinion is, that it was a done thing between him and Scrooge’s nephew; and that the Ghost of Christmas Present knew it. The way he went after that plump sister in the lace tucker, was an outrage on the credulity of human nature. Knocking down the fire-irons, tumbling over the chairs, bumping against the piano, smothering himself among the curtains, wherever she went, there went he! He always knew where the plump sister was. He wouldn’t catch anybody else. If you had fallen up against him (as some of them did), on purpose, he would have made a feint of endeavouring to seize you, which would have been an affront to your understanding, and would instantly have sidled off in the direction of the plump sister. She often cried out that it wasn’t fair; and it really was not. But when at last, he caught her; when, in spite of all her silken rustlings, and her rapid flutterings past him, he got her into a corner whence there was no escape; then his conduct was the most execrable. For his pretending not to know her; his pretending that it was necessary to touch her head-dress, and further to assure himself of her identity by pressing a certain ring upon her finger, and a certain chain about her neck; was vile, monstrous! No doubt she told him her opinion of it, when, another blind-man being in office, they were so very confidential together, behind the curtains.

Scrooge’s niece was not one of the blind-man’s buff party, but was made comfortable with a large chair and a footstool, in a snug corner, where the Ghost and Scrooge were close behind her. But she joined in the forfeits, and loved her love to admiration with all the letters of the alphabet. Likewise at the game of How, When, and Where, she was very great, and to the secret joy of Scrooge’s nephew, beat her sisters hollow: though they were sharp girls too, as Topper could have told you. There might have been twenty people there, young and old, but they all played, and so did Scrooge; for wholly forgetting in the interest he had in what was going on, that his voice made no sound in their ears, he sometimes came out with his guess quite loud, and very often guessed quite right, too; for the sharpest needle, best Whitechapel, warranted not to cut in the eye, was not sharper than Scrooge; blunt as he took it in his head to be.

The Ghost was greatly pleased to find him in this mood, and looked upon him with such favour, that he begged like a boy to be allowed to stay until the guests departed. But this the Spirit said could not be done.

“Here is a new game,” said Scrooge. “One half hour, Spirit, only one!”

It was a Game called Yes and No, where Scrooge’s nephew had to think of something, and the rest must find out what; he only answering to their questions yes or no, as the case was. The brisk fire of questioning to which he was exposed, elicited from him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a disagreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and grunted sometimes, and talked sometimes, and lived in London, and walked about the streets, and wasn’t made a show of, and wasn’t led by anybody, and didn’t live in a menagerie, and was never killed in a market, and was not a horse, or an ass, or a cow, or a bull, or a tiger, or a dog, or a pig, or a cat, or a bear. At every fresh question that was put to him, this nephew burst into a fresh roar of laughter; and was so inexpressibly tickled, that he was obliged to get up off the sofa and stamp. At last the plump sister, falling into a similar state, cried out:

“I have found it out! I know what it is, Fred! I know what it is!”

“What is it?” cried Fred.

“It’s your Uncle Scro-o-o-o-oge!”

Which it certainly was. Admiration was the universal sentiment, though some objected that the reply to “Is it a bear?” ought to have been “Yes;” inasmuch as an answer in the negative was sufficient to have diverted their thoughts from Mr. Scrooge, supposing they had ever had any tendency that way.

“He has given us plenty of merriment, I am sure,” said Fred, “and it would be ungrateful not to drink his health. Here is a glass of mulled wine ready to our hand at the moment; and I say, ‘Uncle Scrooge!’ ”

“Well! Uncle Scrooge!” they cried.

“A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to the old man, whatever he is!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “He wouldn’t take it from me, but may he have it, nevertheless. Uncle Scrooge!”

Uncle Scrooge had imperceptibly become so gay and light of heart, that he would have pledged the unconscious company in return, and thanked them in an inaudible speech, if the Ghost had given him time. But the whole scene passed off in the breath of the last word spoken by his nephew; and he and the Spirit were again upon their travels.

#a christmas carol

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uncleweed · 24 days ago

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Nanao Sakaki (1923-2008) was not a Kyoto writer, but a wandering poet who belonged to everywhere and nowhere. By all accounts he led a remarkable life and wrote remarkable poems. Some folks in Kyoto had the pleasure to know him, particularly Ken Rodgers who accompanied him on a tour to Australia. Thanks to Ken for supplying the piece below by Robert Lee, which first appeared in the Kyoto Journal.

***************************** Extracted from Robert Lee’s tribute to Nanao Sakaki ‘Transnational Poet Wanderer’ in Kyoto Journal, no. 78, p.127ff;

There was the first meeting with Snyder and Ginsberg in Kyoto in 1963 and then Snyder’s invitation to him to visit America in 1968 (California and the West Coast of mountain and ocean, Manhattan and Greenwich Village). Subsequent visits include poetry readings with Waldman, Ginsberg, and others, notably at Naropa in 1981. In June 1988 he asked Ginsberg, Snyder, McClure and Waldman for help in raising money to protect the blue coral reef in Ishigaki-jima against becoming a new airport landing-strip. Their poetry reading in San Francisco served as publicity and a fund-raiser. Sakaki’s message to this Beat consortium he included in his Japanese collection CHIKYU B (1989), with a translation into English under the title “Save Shiraho’s Coral Reef” in Nanao or Never (“this Kamikaze project” he calls the planned landing strip).

In an interview with Trevor Carolan, Sakaki explained very succinctly what kind of Zen he adheres to: “ Most Zen is uninteresting to me …It’s too linked to the samurai tradition – to militarism. This is where Alan Watts and I disagreed: he didn’t fully understand how the samurai class with whom he associated Zen were in fact deeply Confucian: they were concerned with power. The Zen I’m interested in is China’s Tang dynasty variant with teachers like Lin Chi. This was non-intellectual. It came from farmers—so simple. Someone became enlightened, others talked to him, learned and were told, Now you go there and teach; you go here, etc. When Japan tried to study this it was hopeless, the emperor sent scholars, but with their high-flown language and ideas they couldn’t understand.” (Nanao or Never).

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The following is taken from this webpage: http://www.cuke.com/dchad/writ/Japan%20stories/here%20and%20nanao.html

Nanao’s reputation spread and in the sixties when Allen Ginsberg went to Kyoto to visit Gary Snyder, they were told they had to meet Nanao so they did and they all became fast friends and they invited him to go to America which he did. He spent about ten years in America – in San Francisco and New Mexico and in the mountains and desserts. A friend of mine who knows Nanao says that Nanao walked from New York to California and back and forth a number of times and up to Alaska and so forth. All the walking stories I’ve heard about Nanao seem to me to add up to more miles than one could cover in a lifetime. But whatever he’s walked, it’s been one whole heck of a lot.

Folks at the SF Zen Center got to know Nanao because he never had a place of his own or any money so one of the communal houses near Zen Center would take him in as an honored guest. But he just wrote poetry and philosophized and didn’t tend to do the dishes so, after a while, he’d be passed on to another Zen Center house or hippy commune. And he’d write poetry and publish books and go to events like be-ins and concerts. He didn’t always get his way. Kyokes in Kyoto was working at an environmental center on Yoshida mountain by the Yoshida shrine on the West side of the city – the same place where landscaper and Nanao buddy Sogyu is now. They were running a little hostel there a few years ago at quite reasonable rates and Nanao showed up and wanted a room for free and thought his name would do for legal tender but she said he’d have to pay like everyone else so he went off and found somewhere else.

“His poems were not written by hand or head, but with the feet. These poems have been sat into existence, walked into existence, to be left here as traces of a life lived for living…” Gary Snyder, Foreword, Break the Mirror

If you have time to chatter Read books If you have time to read Walk into mountain, desert and ocean If you have time to walk sing songs and dance If you have time to dance Sit quietly, you Happy Lucky Idiot [ Kyoto, 1966]

#nanao sakaki #japanese poet #beat poet #poet #legend #japan writers #kyoto writers

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aquariuminfobureau · 4 months ago

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The marine fishkeeping hobby has existed for quite a long time, but the modern reef aquarium only exists because of recent, technological innovations. These inventions were only available and affordable from the later 1990s, or even later than that, and brought with them a shift in saltwater aquarium retail. Nowadays the emphasis has long been on gardening live corals, and small, colorful fishes such as the chromis, the cardinalfishes, and the dottybacks. Such aquaria were much more difficult in earlier decades of the hobby, and the emphasis was instead on much larger fishes.

One book representing the era, is Marine Tropical Fish, an entry in the Bartholomew Pet Care Series, which is penned by one Ken Dunham, was first printed in 1977 before seeing reprints in the following decade. From the perspective of the modern marine aquarist, much would appear to be missing. Not only most of the ornamental, sessile invertebrates, but also entire clades of fishes that are so ubiquitous in reef tanks today.

Not uniquely for British aquarium books as late as the 1990s, the text or only features mention of tropical species, but also indigenous marine fauna, such as small blennies and gobies. The author tells us when to collect them from the wild shore, so as to avoid overcrowded beaches. In fact the reason there isn't much of a coldwater.marinr aquarium trade, is because our room temperatures get too high, and the small water volumes in our aquariums are not large enough to buffer their ectothermic denizens from overheating. Native marine tanks are fascinating and subtly beautiful, but require either an expensive or DIY chilling system, unless they are positioned in a space where the air temperature is consistently low enough. One also needs to know beforehand, enough of the biology of the organisms that are being collected. For they have different temperature tolerances, substrate preferences, and feeding habits.

Brackish natural waters are defined by their sub-marine salinity, but their salt content qualifies them as saltwater all the same, and many brackish fishes that live in estuaries, actually belong to a marine faunal component in those admixed habitats. Not all fishes found in estuaries can or should be kept in 100% or nearly 100% seawater. But those sea fishes that can live permanently in estuaries, are robust species in the aquarium. The author represents these fishes with the target bass, which is one of the grunters, and a scat species.

Nowadays the damselfishes are not often traded, apart from the charming clownfishes and the small, gregarious planktivores. On the whole, the other damselfishes are considered too pugnacious to cohabit with other small reef fishes, often having boisterous, territorial natures similar to those of many freshwater cichlids. In the past this strangely added to their appeal, for they could hold their own against fishes larger than themselves. I should also add that, although it's not often remarked upon, a number of damselfishes are now known to consume coral tissues.

In the 1970s to 1990s the seahorses and other pipefish were regarded as difficult to care for, despite being widely traded for their popular appeal. For some reason they had a reputation for being difficult to feed in the home aquarium, not least as requiring feedings of live prey. This is nonsense, members of this clade happily accept defrosted items as they are blown by the current through the water. They certainly do not need to consume tiny live fishes, and they are remarkably easy in our tanks, even using the more limited range of aquarium technology that was already around in 1977.

The pages on wrasse demo strate quite well the shifting focus of the saltwater hobby. Nowadays aquarists will presumably think of small, reef safe species, such as flasher wrasse, pyjama wrasse, and canary wrasse. But this is an artifact of the boom in coral aquariums. In past decades such small wrasse, however beautiful or intriguing, were not usually labelled with any accuracy when they were retailed.

The focus back then was almost entirely on big, bold wrasse species, and unfortunately on the cleaner fishes of the genus Labroides, especially the iconic L. dimidiatus. Cleaner wrasse do not ship very well and usually have short lifespans on arrival, though they are not otherwise jard to care for, and should not be avoided in a long term captive can be rehomed. Nowadays the export of these wrasse is rightly regarded as unethical, but in those days these fish were exported as a staple of the aquarium trade, and most of them tragically died after purchase.

Triggerfishes and similarly sized fishes, such as big angelfishes, are nowadays regarded as quite a niche interest. But in the past big, personable fish were much more often seen in dealers tanks one reason they declined in popularity is that they are not 'reef safe' with the spectrum of organisms, most aquarists want in their tanks. Before home coral gardens became the standard in saltwater aquariums, this was not really a concern. People would start a saltwater aquarium just to have one or two large, often colorful and vividly patterned fish in a large aquarium.

The disadvantage of using illustrations by traditional artists, rather than photographs, is that the reference images can be less than precise. Of course this isn't inherent to hiring artists, but in this book some people should have done their homework better. The image is supposedly of a long-spined or diademid sea urchin, but does not look like most people would draw them. It's just a generic image of a sea urchin, despite the labelling. Sea urchins with sharp spines are quite well defended from predator attack, and in the early days of the tropical marine hobby, they were the most commonly encountered algae grazers, after the tangs and blennies. And imports of neither blennies nor sea urchins were usually labelled with any serious effort - 'assorted blenny', 'assorted sea urchin'.

Strange as it might seem, corals were not a focus of the early trade in reef organisms. Again they were poorly labelled, and tended not to survive very long after arrival at retail. The care requirements of different corals and anemones, were very poorly understood even by marine biologists in the 1970s, and printed information in the hobbyist literature, the ded to be quite vague. Incidentally the featured picture of a sea anemone, does not even slightly resemble Stoichactis sp. or the carpet anemones.

Tiger cowries are infrequently imported these days, and the most often imported snails are surely algivorous top snails, small conches, ceriths, and small, scavenging whelks. In the past these animals were rarely or never imported, not least because many of them are not vividly colored, or of impressive size. But the beautiful tiger cowries fit the bill, and was often traded as an algae eater. In fact this species does not consume algae at all, it actually eats sessile animals, and it usually starved in home tanks.

Between 1977 and 2024, nearly half of a century has passed. In that time new technologies have become affordable as 'kit', and scientific knowledge of reef life has improved and reached ordinary aquarists. But the availability of commercial aquarium technologies developed and popularised in the USA, created not only a boom but slso a shift in consumer demand. It was a true revolution in the aquarium industry.

#aquarium books #fish books #out of print books #1997 #bartholemew pet care series #marine tropical fish

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