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bobbinacrossafricatake2 · 1 year ago

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Secondary Forest

May 28, 2024

We woke up, packed up and had breakfast in the dining room. The lodge was very nice, but not the same level of elegance we’ve become used to in Africa. Maharo told us it’s one of the higher end places, so it seems that at least this part of Madagascar simply has a different standard of luxury.

Maharo picked us up and we met Mary and Mario at the entrance to the Adalamazantra forest, the secondary forest. The primary forest, where we were yesterday, is a term for a forest with solely endemic plants. The secondary forest has had plants introduced from afar, such as eucalyptus. The secondary forest is also much more accessible by civilized roads, hence has many more visitors. We saw quite a few folks on our walk, but not so many that it was distracting. There were three loops available: short, medium and long. We opted for medium. When we first entered, we marched along a wide path with stepping stones - a far cry from the slightly trodden, less trodden and newly minted paths we forged yesterday! It felt a little more like a nature walk than a rainforest hike. Not five minutes in, we saw our first lemurs - of the bamboo variety. A bunch of little guys side by side on a branch doing their lemur thing, whatever that is. We wound up spotting (well, Mary and Mario spotting) quite a few lemurs, in addition to the bamboo fella’s: golden safika, brown, nocturnal woolies (several asleep in a scrum on a branch), and the largest of all lemurs, the indri indri, which are endangered. The first indri’s we saw were just hanging out. It’s frustrating to see them way up high unmoving. Back lit by the sky, their little faces and red eyes don’t show up well. But when they start moving, swinging wildly from branch to (far away!) branch, they’re a total hoot to watch. Some are a little more active when they sit in place, looking around on high alert craning their necks around and their little ears perking up; or chomping on berries and leaves (their mamas didn’t teach then to eat with their mouths closed). As yesterday, Mary and Mario were great at positioning us for optimal viewing and photos. The best part, however was the audio version of the show. Families of lemurs of the same species call out to each other for a few minutes to say good morning. We first heard the serenade far in the distance, then a family to our left called out with windy, screechy, scary, somewhat high-pitched noises. On command, a nearby family responded, so we got the full, quite loud, effect. So wild. We felt like we were in a rainforest. Oh, we were in a rainforest!! We hoped to see some good birds, but only once stopped when there were quite a few flying around. Beautiful they were, particularly a bright blue one that was too speedy to capture on film. We saw a few flowers, but it turns out that fall simply is the wrong season for much color in the forest, except, of course for green everywhere! To see many of the lemurs, we dipped off the nature-walk-like path and indeed followed more moderately trodden paths up the hillside and down, and up and down again. All in all, it was a wonderful 2 1/2ish hour walk/hike!

Maharo had told us yesterday that he’d take us to Mary’s restaurant for lunch. We were skeptical (worried, even) but it was quite nice. Surprise of surprises, Mary’s name is actually Marie - got lost on us with the French accent. Marie’s restaurant was one of the first to be built in the area. Not only is she a guide but an entrepreneur! Madagascar may be a developing country, but it’s heartening to see a woman has been out on the forefront of tourism for many years!

The ride home was pretty crazy, but didn’t seem quite as insane as the drive out. Still loads of trucks, still the communication of the road passing, swerving, avoiding pot-craters, vehicles and people. And there was the one guy in front of us who Jillebob dubbed “Smoke Fiend” whose vehicle was spewing stinky black fumes, and contrary to the rules of the road, would not let us pass. But we also took the opportunity to appreciate the spectacular, lush, green landscapes of hills, villages, pastures and rice paddies. Really beautiful. Back close to Tana, traffic got bad, but gave us the opportunity to observe life in the outskirts of the city: hardware stores here, butchers with rancid-looking meat hanging there, wonderful fruits and veg here, baskets of grains there - all fascinating. Loads of peeps walking along the street, cars leaving the city at what must have been rush hour. All part of the experience of getting to know Madagascar.

The staff at Maison Gallieni welcomed us back like we were family. We had the same room that we had a few nights ago and did not have to complete any paperwork on check-in. When we asked if there were other guests, the staff, who do not speak much English and don’t understand Jill’s French, replied, “Yes, your friends!” We decided that it had to be one of the two Aussie couples we met a few nights ago. The big reveal at dinner … Maureen and Andy. We exchanged tales of the last two days and learned that, the very quiet Andy, had worked out a whole Australia itinerary for us.

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oneleggedflamingo · 1 year ago

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Ok, biting scratching howling, my main writing project, wt: journey to cloudcastle kinda already has enough settings: little towns, a city, different forests, a graveyard forest and a pietbogmire or whatever it is in English.

And my second writing project wt: agriculture monastries QOFER (Quality Oxygen From Organic Reactions) happens in an island, maybe half the size of Madagascar, and it has different forests, grasslands and dry-enough-to-walk-on wetlands. And maybe a village under a glass dome.

Ok so, there are things I want to add, maybe only to the QOFER one because these things don't really serve a purpose in the cloudcastle adventure.

Konsentrinen (kilpi)keidassuo: concentric raised bog. Idk if that is the real name for it, I can't seem to find any photos with google, but I was on a lecture where my teacher showed us aerial photos, and they look messed up. Like a huge summoning circle for the scariest world destroying monster. It seems to be a rare wetland type (google doesn't gove me photos) so I need to ask my professor book recommendations. It will be on the QOFER island and it will make the MC cry and throw up. Poor guy, he is just some university student that can't seem to bring his library books back on time.

toori: tor (rock formation). They look unsetteling (at least the ones in Finland, but I live on flat land surrounded by sky high pines so maybe they are just strange looking to me. Might make my OC insane looking for the remains of wrecked stone monastries, but only finding these for a couple of days when his food supplies are running low. Might induce hallusinations. Might make him cry a little. Might make him say some philosofical lines about the buildings of mankind. Might make him desparate for human contact. U know, the good stuff and the reader learns about geology.

Pirunpelto: devil's field. Open land area that is covered with different sized rocks and boulders. Looks creepy. What were you going to eat there buddy? Your last breadroll? Ants? Snakes? Rodents of normal size? Or would the word gopher give you flashbacks? How are you going to make a fire to stay warm at night? Huh, you didn't think about that when you left the forested area behind thinking that you might find a way to leave the Island throught the DEVIL'S FIELD, what are you thinking????

And I just learned that the word hiisi (scary mythological giant-ish creature) also at some point meant sacred forest or a graveyard. So I can use that info to make my graveyard forest more interesting.

Hiidenkivi: large rock boulder that was dropped there during the end of ice age. Might look scary. You could climb up on them if you are scared. Scared about what? About the scary looking low-nutrient wetland that wants to chew you up and get some nutrients. The hunger is making you delusional, don't worry I got you. Just eat some moss and drink the water from the large round pit that is on that huge rock. That is not scary at all. I heard that water in GIANT'S KETTLE, has healing properties. Sure drink as much as you want, I'm sure tha the devil, I mean the Giant doesn't care.

The horrors is an open plain but the ground wants to kill you and you have undealt trauma.

#writers on tumblr #Geology #Finnish geology #Tw devil #I am a wetland and rock formation enjoyer #Just a casual fan really #frothing at the mouth #QOFER #I will never find this post again #WIP

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museaumofnaturalhistory · 2 months ago

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Palms in Argentina. (Photo: Public Domain)

The Irrepressible Palm Tree Tourists Who Travel the World to See Fronds - by Andy Wright | Atlas Obscura - Stories | 31st/05/2016

Just Looking for a Little Bit of Paradise.

Grant Stephenson can rattle off facts about palm trees in the way others chatter about baseball: Did you know palm trees have the largest seed of any plant? Did you know Raffia palms have the longest leaves in the plant kingdom at up to 80 feet long? That there are palms so hard you can throw a spark off them with a machete? Petrified palm wood is the official state stone of Texas and the state fossil of Louisiana. Latin names like Clamus, Ceroxylon, and Lodoicea roll off his tongue like a starting lineup.

“I can talk six or eight hours and still not tell you everything you need to know about trees,” says Stephenson, who speaks with an amiable drawl and runs Horticultural Consultants, Inc. in Marble Falls, Texas, procuring and selling palms and other tropical plants, and advising people on how to care for them.

Different species of Arecaceae. (Photo: Public Domain)

Stephenson sits on the board of directors of the International Palm Society, of which he is also a card-carrying lifetime member. Founded in 1956 in Florida, the organization metes out grants for palm research, publishes a journal (Palms), maintains a well-used message board, “Palm Talk” (where “pics please” always means “pictures of palms, and more of them”), and offers trips around the world for hundreds of palm-obsessives, which Stephenson helps organize. Up to 200 people from all over the world attend biennial treks to places like Australia, Thailand and Venezuela in order to mingle with trees all day, then listen to experts talk about trees in the evening. This year’s trip to Borneo is sold out, and promises voyagers the opportunity to see up to 80 different kinds of palms.

Palm trees in the desert: Andreas Canyon in Palm Springs. (Photo: Nina B/shutterstock.com)

Palms have long exerted a mystical pull over travelers. The poets John Milton and William Cullen Bryant name-check them in verse; Alfred Tennyson called them “knots of Paradise”. Modern day wordsmith Channing Tatum told fans in a Reddit AMA that he would like a “magical palm tree that had a lot of shade with instead of coconuts there’s just peanut butter jelly sandwiches with cheetos underneath”.

On PalmTalk, biennial trekkers swap photos, stories and memories, fondly recalling the thrill of seeing palms in their natural habitat, where they photograph them, touch them and sometimes even talk to them. Wrote one traveler, “No matter where people are from, no matter what they do for a living, no matter what other interests or philosophies they may have, for one week everyone has one thing in common: PALMS.”

IPS travelers have hauled themselves by rope up steep hillsides in Thailand to clap eyes on the rare Maxburretia, traveled by donkey, helicopter and hanging bridge, steered dug-out canoes through Madagascar and floated down the Amazon. Once, in Chiang Mai, Thailand, Stephenson handed out leech-proof socks to 200 explorers. They turned out to be only moderately helpful.

Palms at Le Jardin Majorelle in Marrakech. (Photo: Miguel Discart/CC BY-SA 2.0)

What is it about palms that makes plucking a few dozen bloodsucking worms from your body a reasonable obstacle to brave? Stephenson has no shortage of reasons. You can build with them, eat them and make wine from their sap. Seashore palms hold sand dunes together, and palms are remarkably good at taking care of themselves, transforming their own foliage into compost. The Guihaia palm (also known as “The Dainty Lady”) has silvery leaves that look beautiful reflected in water. But beyond their practical and aesthetic appeal, Stephenson says palm trees exert a kind of psychic pull over people.

A forest of palms in Mauritius. (Photo: Miwok/Public Domain)

Hospitals plant palm trees to detract from the somber environment and casinos install them to loosen people up, says Stephenson. Palms just make people happy.

It is difficult to prove this theory broadly, but if Stephenson is any indication, there might something to it.

Stephenson is on the road a lot, which makes it hard for him to answer pesky reporters with speed. In an email, he apologized for not responding right away. He ended his short note with a sentiment not typically doled out to near strangers, kind of the email equivalent of wind through palm fronds.

“Have a great day, week, month, year,” he wrote. “What the hell, have a great life.”

#natural history #botany #palms #palm trees #nature #the natural history museaum

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chris-mga2022mi6021 · 1 year ago

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[RR-037] Location of the story | Research

Looking for a location for the story, initially I decided to have to story take place in the continent of Africa, while looking into more research I have thought it's a unique to have this story take place in Madagascar, so I went with it

"The island nation of Madagascar has developed its own distinct ecosystems and extraordinary wildlife since it split from the African continent an estimated 160 million years ago. Approximately 95 percent of Madagascar's reptiles, 89 percent of its plant life, and 92 percent of its mammals exist nowhere else on Earth."

Location site reference:

"The Madagascar lowland forests or Madagascar humid forests are a tropical moist broadleaf forest ecoregion found on the eastern coast of the island of Madagascar, home to a plant and animal mix that is 80 to 90% endemic, with the forests of the eastern plain being a particularly important location of this endemism."

Looking at the diagram above, I am having the story take place around the northern-east part of the island, where there is more forest found.

I also looked if there are crystals found in the island:

"The geologically significant location is also home to large crystal quartz stones like Lavender and Tibetan Quartz, Amethyst, Agate and Onyx - Rose Quartz is part of this same group."

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divyagemblr · 2 years ago

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Unveiling the Allure of Amazonite Slab: Nature's Elegance Crafted in Stone

Nature's canvas is vast and varied, often gifting us with treasures that captivate the eye and stir the soul. Among these wonders lies Amazonite, a gemstone revered for its enchanting hues and storied allure. In its raw, unrefined form or as meticulously crafted slabs, Amazonite stands as a testament to the Earth's artistic prowess.

Unveiling Amazonite

A Geological Tale:

Amazonite, a form of microcline feldspar, takes its name from the Amazon River, though it's not found in the Amazon region. This captivating gem is typically discovered in granite rocks, predominantly in Brazil, Russia, Madagascar, and the United States. Its distinctive blue-green hue, varying from soft pastels to deeper shades reminiscent of lush forests, draws admirers seeking both its aesthetic and metaphysical properties.

Visual Symphony:

The mesmerizing color palette of Amazonite is a harmonious blend of blues and greens, often exhibiting striking streaks or mottled patterns. Each slab boasts a unique arrangement of colors and natural motifs, making it a prized choice for artisans and designers seeking to infuse spaces with natural beauty.

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Embracing Amazonite in Design

A Splash of Serenity:

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Harmonizing Contrasts:

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Timeless Elegance:

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Caring for Amazonite Slabs

Preserving Beauty:

Maintaining the allure of Amazonite slabs requires minimal effort. Regular cleaning with mild soap and water helps retain their luster. Avoiding abrasive cleaners and prolonged exposure to direct sunlight preserves their natural brilliance for years to come.

Final ThoughtsAmazonite slabs from Divya Gem Stonex encapsulate the splendor of nature in a stunning display of color and elegance. From their geological origins to their transformative role in interior design, these captivating stones exude a timeless charm that transcends trends. Whether admired for their visual allure or embraced for their alleged holistic properties, Amazonite slabs stand as nature's masterpiece, inviting us to revel in their beauty and embrace their tranquil aura.

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tanadrin · 2 years ago

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#this is one of the wildest landscapes to me#but i will not be seeing it live. just look at that steamy fog#i am not compatible with that kind of humidity

these landscapes are great bc you see these chinese paintings showing what you think are very stylized landforms, but then you see photographs of the actual mountains in south china and it’s like, no, that’s actually just what they look like

iirc these kinds of insanely dramatic peaks are characteristic of karst topography, since soft limestone is easily eroded and can create some pretty wild shapes in the process. some of the really insane ones include the stone forest (also in southern china) and tsingy de bemaraha in madagascar.

needless to say you often also get incredible caves in karst regions, even ones which don’t have nearly as dramatic surface features as these

William Alberto Huaman Vilcatoma

Guilin Mountains China

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lost-lycaon · 2 years ago

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Land of Primates - Smithsonian Channel

Nature Film Review

The Smithsonian Channel is an inexplicably underrated source of nature documentaries, brilliantly balancing the educational with the cinematic. The BBC will always be the final word, but Smithsonian is a fantastic place to stream films to fulfill your need for nature.

The series on African primates is particularly fascinating, focusing on relatively unsung species. Found across the continent in nearly every habitat save the most extreme desert, primates exhibit a winning design. The Geladas of the Ethiopian highlands grazing on high altitude grasses to the Poison monkeys of Zanzibar show off the ability of primates to succeed in virtually any habitat. The series spends an episode on the Ring tailed lemurs of Anja mountain in Madagascar, befitting a charismatic species that shows a talent for adaptation.

‘Lemurs of Madagascar’ covers the various other lemur and primate species, as the isolation of that great island has allowed a truly remarkable evolutionary branch to flourish. Of its species, 80% are endemic, found nowhere else on Earth. The massive island is bisected by a spine of mountains that run vertically down the island, acting as a rain shield holding wet weather in the east with forest conditions. The mountain itself is a haven for ring tailed lemurs, as seen in the first episode. The west of the island holds some of the most hostile arid conditions on the planet. Life has taken up this challenge, with even the impossibly dry ‘spiny forest’ still frequented by Verreau’s Sifaka. Leaping from one Alluaudia tree to another, biologists still cannot explain how they avoid impaling themselves on the lethal thorns that cover the trees.

Even Ring-tailed Lemurs find resources to exploit in an otherworldly habitat of titanic grey edifices resembling alien skyscrapers, the only remains of an ancient ocean reef. The razor sharp stone is negotiated by the lemur troops, navigated by experienced scouts down to the base where sheltered groves collect water from the rocks above, rare places to hunt for food. The aye-aye is examined, with its bizarre adaptations bringing it success in hunting the wood for insects. Its strange appearance has been a curse, as humans mistake it for a demon, and kill it on sight. Fat-tailed lemurs occupying the rain forests of the east are the only primate and tropical mammal that hibernates; a process called aestivation, sleeping for seven months to conserve resources during lean times. Lastly, the episode looks in on the Indri of the forest, haunting the trees with its plaintive call. The endless wonder of Madagascar is captured with incredible images that easily achieve a visual poetry while the narrator covers the fun facts.

‘Wanderers of the Forest’ focuses on the Amathole mountains of south eastern South Africa, an Afromontane habitat that has been nearly destroyed by timber and farming interests. Covering less than 0.5% of South Africa’s surface area, it is the last bastion of the towering 200 foot high Yellowwood trees. This is the ‘national tree’, which is still cut down regularly despite its protected status and very slow reproduction.

These forests are the home and prison of Samango monkeys and South Africa’s only parrot species, the Cape Parrot. Though there are small pockets of the forest left, the devastation requires each species to forage in urban areas for food. Samango monkeys, adorned with greyed fur that makes them resemble old men, cross telephone wires into town to raid gardens and ruin their teeth on acorns for protein. The residents shoot them on sight in the town of Hogsback, an unfortunate reminder of humans’ refusal to understand their place in the natural world. The parrots raid the pecan fields, relishing the fatty pecans which provide nourishment, but cause high fat levels in the liver. Farmers have set aside a field just for the parrots while shooting them in their own fields. Both species would live far better on a diet of yellowwood fruit, filled with antioxidants and vitamins. ‘Wanderers of the Forest’ makes a strong case for conservation of species by conserving the habitat, while highlighting the bizarre behaviors of our own species.

‘Baboons of Bambelela’ is an engaging chapter focusing on the Chacma baboons of the Waterberg, making their living amid the granite inselbergs of this paradise. Baboons tend to have complex troop structures, led by a strong alpha male (for Chacmas), allied adult males, and the various females and offspring, living in 2-3 dozen large groups for predation defense. The higher the risk of predation, as in the Okavango, the larger the troop. This chapter examines a troop created by a rogue male who enticed low ranking females away from their troop where reproductive prospects were poor. The recruitment can consist of not just being an available alpha male, but also grooming, which plays an outsized role in bonding, forming alliances, and political intrigue. The alpha then takes and holds prime feeding territory and maintains tight discipline to keep the troop intact. Males hold rank with muscle, fighting off rivals, protecting family members, and keeping everyone well fed - when he fails in this, he is deposed and forgotten. Females hold rank by bloodline, and keep that rank even if their mate is lost. Their offspring holds rank in a similar fashion, this is carried over as they age, and is reflected in being groomed by subordinates. The grooming is crucial for currying favor, enabling individuals to rise in estimation and importance. It even allows interlopers to join a troop. The notion of animals conducting politics by various means has always been fascinating to me, a literal ‘scratch your back’ quid pro quo that could yield a dividend.

‘Baboon Lagoon’ follows a single Chacma baboon troop living in the reserve of De Hoop. As a misty morning breaks, we see the hulking alpha male lead his troop from their rock haven to the feeding grounds where they pick berries from a Dune Myrtle tree, stuffing their cheek pouches with the bounty. There is little new material in this one, but it is a favorite for showcasing the natural beauty of De Hoop, a small but crucial nature reserve along the South African Garden Route. Home to some of the world’s rarest mammals, De Hoop was created in 1957 south of the Overberg mountains specifically to protect Bontebok antelope. These beautiful creatures with striking white facial coloration were nearly exterminated, down to just seventeen individuals by farmers who shot them as pests. They were joined by Cape Mountain Zebra, also critically endangered, to breed freely and eventually restock reserves. Above all what is conserved here is the Cape Floral Kingdom, home to the Fynbos biome. Forming a packed heath, proteas, ericas, restios and geophytes are packed into a relatively tiny area that has biological diversity greater than any rainforest. Baboons are able to graze here due to their dietary flexibility, adapting to any food source. Fynbos manage to grow on very poor soils, and are thus low in nutrients. The baboons must work harder to make a living than those in more productive areas, but are successful nonetheless.

'Africa’s baboons' is a larger scope review of the five species of baboons found across that massive continent, including the Chacmas, the Olive baboons of western and central Africa, the Geladas, Hamadryas, and Yellow baboons of eastern Africa. Baboons are well built to exploit the remarkable diversity of ecosystems, and unsurprisingly are found nearly everywhere. Chacmas are able to live off the sparse nutrients of the Fynbos kingdom, though will raid human habitation when necessary to survive. Olive baboons are widespread across west-central Africa, capable of eating nearly anything, and are led by an alpha female in large troops. This female carries knowledge of water and food sources that leads back many generations, passed on to offspring to carry on the traditions.

Emotions run deep in these societies, and higher ranking members hold the discipline. In one scene, an alpha attacks a mother who turns her back on a helpless newborn, a valuable lesson in a dangerous world. This unrest causes cortisol levels to surge in the bloodstream, which can disrupt reproductive hormones - and these subside quickly in the calm of grooming sessions, restoring the balance, reinforcing emotional bonds, and aiding troop cohesion. Baboons have been noted by researchers to recognize relationships of dominance within the troop independent of their own position - capable of exercising politics and abstract thought.

The camera follows one rogue male who drifts into the territory of a baboon troop - he is alone, cast out of his old troop once sexually mature. Ever seeking a way into an existing troop, or coaxing away females, he is constantly on the lookout for an opportunity. Social animals face a bleak existence in solitude. One does not need to anthropomorphize to see loneliness in his eyes, unable to bond with others. Ticks build up on his face and back, he feeds fretfully as there is no one to look out for predators, sleep is rare, and stress wears on him without the close interactions baboons desire. Hope appears with another rogue male who carefully approaches, and through body language an alliance is made. Troops are formed this way in the natural world, and the social animal is given another chance.

World of Primates is a stellar series that stands with the best, both as entertainment and education. I find this invigorating as a way of understanding how so many disparate pieces of our planet fit together into a loose whole. Learning how these systems work is the same as learning why they matter - and in a world on the verge of large scale collapse, they all matter.

#nature film #film review #primates #smithsonian

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chaobunnyarts · 2 years ago

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Froggy fall! (part 2/3)

9. Spooky forest / Barking tree frog (Dryophytes gratiosus) 10. Hanging ivy / Red-backed poison frog (Ranitomeya reticulata) 11. Candle / Golden mantella (Mantella aurantiaca) 12. Stones + gems / Coronated tree frog (Triprion spinosus) 13. Tea / Amazon milk frog (Trachycephalus resinifictrix) 14. Night sky / Desert rain frog (Breviceps macrops) 15. Harvest / Madagascar tomato frog (Dyscophus antongilii) 16. Plant shelf / American bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus)

#froggyfall #frog #frog art #cute frogs

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fatehbaz · 2 years ago

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Designed by architect Albert Laprade, the Palais de la Porte Dorée, whose construction began in 1928, stands at the entrance to the vast space designed to house the 1931 Colonial Exhibition in Paris. [...] [Its] style was a perfect example of a colonial modernity [...].

The display of riches extracted from the colonies, and the depiction of people bent over working, busy doing a thousand actions destined to enrich France, make up the Palais de la Porte Dorée’s 1,200-square-meter façade. It was realized at a time when many cracks were showing in the colonial empire, and when anticolonial groups in France and Europe were honing their arguments. Far from the peaceful image of worlds laboring to enrich France portrayed on this façade, [...] [t]he 1931 International Colonial Exhibition fabricated an illusion: that of a successful pacification and a working empire. [...] The government wanted to impress and dazzle the public [...].

A veritable tour de force, in a day, the public could visit Angkor Vat, Timbuktu, the palaces of Niger, or of the Queen of Madagascar. These monuments of vanquished civilizations -- now “French possessions” -- proved that access to fabulous riches had been secured. The 1931 Exhibition glorified the French colonial “civilizing mission,” but behind this euphemism were assimilation policies based on dispossession, the Code de l’indigénat (Indigenous Code), which legalized various forms of discrimination in the colonies, forced labor, and exploitation. [...] The colossal aspect of the Exhibition only fleetingly masked these fissures. [...] By its very inordinateness, the Colonial Exhibition [...] inadvertently revealed the illusion that underlay the colonial project. [...]

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In Europe and France in the 1910s to 1920s, Black, Asian, and Arab people organized, wrote, and mobilized. Examples include the Pan-African Congress in Paris in 1919 [...]. The constituent congress of the League against Imperialism and Colonial Oppression was held in Brussels in 1927. [...] [I]t was attended by representatives of the African National Congress, [...] Albert Einstein, Henri Barbusse [...]. Let us not forget either [...] the uprisings in Vietnam in 1908; [...] the 1925 revolt in Syria; or again in Vietnam in 1930. [...] Revolts and demonstrations demanding rights broke out throughout the entire French colonial empire, including [...] the demonstrations in Abéché (Chad) in 1917; the demonstrations of the people of Gabon and the Middle Congo from 1917 to 1918 [...].

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As an institution, the museum partook in the invention of homogeneous, racialized categories (“Africans,” “Asians,” “Arabs,” “Europeans”) [...]. The Palais de la Porte Dorée’s multiple bas-reliefs [...] form a veritable “stone tapestry” and an imposing fresco of imperialist power. The work of sculptor Alfred Auguste Janniot (1889–1969), it constitutes a colonial encyclopedia. Entitled: “L'Apport des territoires d'outre-mer à la mère patrie et à la civilization” (“The Overseas Territories’ Contribution to the Motherland and to Civilization”), it is the only of its kind in France in terms of size.

In this bas-relief, a vast, diverse, and complex world is reduced to a flat surface on which these figures’ labor contributes to the greatness of France. [...] The colony as disciplinable “Nature” [...]. Humans and animals, plants and pirogues intermix and intertwine. Here, half a body emerges from the foliage; there a child perched on a woman’s hip hovers over a cactus. Further on, the name “Sudan” spills from a lion’s mouth. There is no social life, [...] the colony is “Nature.”

This disorder contrasts with its orderly finality: the anticipated export of products to France. But it is also a disorder that evokes the ordering of the world through colonization. [...]

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The colony was a huge enterprise in taming fauna, flora, humans, rivers, forests, and mountains. Nothing was to escape the colonizers’ eye, or control. Everything had to be renamed, ordained, arranged, distinguished according to norms that reinforced an epistemology and imposed rigid binarities on worlds that had complex understandings of the living. Colonization was a project of control, possession, and transparency.

Thanks to this bas-relief, the French were given the impression of knowing everything about a world laying at its fingertips, that colonization offered them the entire diversity of the world, pacified, disciplined, subjected. [...] The Exhibition’s Jardin d’Acclimatation was an instrument of this organization; the public could imagine it was visiting the jungle, the savannah, tropical forests, and seas comfortably and safely. [...]

We also see the extent to which structures of racism destroy the possibility of living differently, [...] the imagination, that they stifle us, that they sever ties [...]. We want to retrace the cartographies of transnational and transcontinental resistance, to give voice [...]. We no longer want to be put under house arrest, confined.

---

All text above by: Françoise Vergès. “Decolonize the City.” e-flux Architecture (Appropriations series). May 2023. [All bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. At e-flux, Vergès explains, in an introduction, that this text “is a compilation of several extracts of the book De la violence coloniale dans l’espace public: Visite du triangle de la Porte Dorée (Of Colonial Violence in the Public Space: A visit to the Porte Dorée Triangle)“.]

#ecology #imperial #colonial #abolition #temporal #haunted #indigenous #french algeria #carceral #multispecies #carceral geography #tidalectics #caribbean #archipelagic thinking #intimacies of four continents #victorian and edwardian popular culture

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soupslashers · 3 years ago

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The Heart Shaped Box Series

CH. 1 The Proposition

Pairing: Eventual Asa Emory/The Collector x Fem Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4K

Summary: An infatuation has led you to him, and now you’re beginning to think it could become something more…

A/N: This was meant to be a one-shot, but it blossomed into a series. It’ll be a bit of a slow burn, depending on your definition, but still, I hope you all enjoy some professor Emory while he’s still in that persona ;)

Entomology was the only class you looked forward to.

Around you the black seats curved inwards, all aimed towards the chalkboard that was littered with drawings of various insects. Some had fat white shaded shells and were made to look as if they were crawling, while others were slim with outstretched wings. They were each created for extra credit; twenty points just to go up there before or after the class period to scribble down your favorite insect species.

You had yet to do so. The concept constantly lingered in the back of your mind on your drive to the campus. One day, you promised yourself, you would walk up there and scratch out your best impression of the Madagascar Hissing Cockroach—a forest dwelling invertebrate with a loud hum. Their unique alarm sound was something you had been infatuated with since your professor had first spoke about them. He said it was both a defense mechanism and a form of communication, one typically used for mating purposes.

The way he spoke is what had initially brought you to his class. Last semester you had been wondering the halls of the college campus, looking for ample distraction until your anatomy professor was free to speak with you about an exam you had missed, when a man’s voice had caught your attention.

It traveled through the quiet, cool air and to you. The noise was soft yet gruff. Not grating exactly but spoken low enough in his throat that it came out with a twinge of raspiness, almost like his voice was permanently coated with the thickness of just waking from an extended period of sleep.

To say it sounded nice would be an understatement. Most of your professors had clipped speech from years of burnt-out lectures to students who couldn’t care less. Their tones always carried a robotic weight to them, a drone akin to the humming of bees. But this voice was like fresh honey, dripping down in gobs of sun ridden gold to your eardrums.

Your feet had carried you to the source of the sound. The knotted walnut door was propped open with a stone butterfly, its wings and body cut to precision. It was just bigger than your fist, yet the weight of the rock enough to properly hold the door from closing. You hesitantly peeked through the gap, only allowing yourself to enter just enough that you could see despite the crack being lengthy enough to stick your shoulders partly through.

Inside was another lecture hall. The lights were bright saucers high above the small body of students who littered about the seats. Despite the vast seating, only about forty people lingered about, books open and heads trained forwards. Nobody glanced back towards you, and this you silently thanked. Bothering a professor and his students during a class was definitely something you wanted to avoid doing.

As your gaze made its rounds about the room, you found yourself lingering on the man who stood front and center.

Tawny brown pants hugged muscular thighs, the fabric moving and forming wrinkles as he gestured around the enormous chalkboard that hung on the wall in front of him. A pine green overcoat wrapped around him, falling to his mid upper thighs. Only as he turned around did you realize that this intoxicating voice extended to his physical features as well.

His chestnut brown hair was cut short, looping cleanly around his ears to connect with the stubble that gathered on his upper lip and around to his cheeks and chin. A broad forehead extended down to eyebrows that seemed permanently slightly furrowed, the skin inching over deep-set eyes that— your staring was halted as you peered closer at his eyes.

You were far enough away that you couldn’t make out distinct details, but there was something strange in the way his eyes seemed to almost reflect the light that shone around the room. He had been broadly speaking to the room, his stare shifting, and as it did, a white globe seemed to be sitting there, moving around as his eyes did.

It was a small oddity that had you enamored. You stayed hovering in the doorway for a full minute after initially noticing it, racking your brain for something that would explain it. But then those eyes had caught your own, which had you reeling back as if someone had harshly pulled you.

After that you had taken the route back to your anatomy professors’ doorway, mind stuck on the man like a scratched record. Even when you sat in front of Dr. Dunne, her speaking over when you could make up the exam, you still couldn’t move on from it to the point where you had even mentioned it to her before making your leave from her office.

She had been bemused, chuckling at the way the words had suddenly rushed out of your mouth, so very off topic from a test over bone structure. You remember the way heat had crawled up your neck and to your cheeks like it usually did when you spoke out of turn as she listed out numerous causes. However, just as you wanted to bolt from embarrassment, she paused, and then mentioned a professor on campus who had leukocoria—a condition in which blood vessels would leak into the hollow portions of the eye. Doctor Emory, she had called him. An entomology professor on campus.

You never got the chance to glance at the name plate by the propped open door, but you immediately knew it was the same man you had seen teaching just minutes before. It felt like some dirty secret that you had. Like she knew why you were asking and the thoughts you had as soon as you heard his voice. You were glad to be able to thank her then leave a moment later.

While you should’ve been focusing on the end of this semester, you instead incubated a growing crush on Dr. Emory. You’d linger around in the halls after your anatomy class, sometimes walking past the knotted walnut door to your car, other times staying there, listening to his teachings from behind the thin walls of the building.

Unlike the first time, you never risked peeking in again, nerves too heavy to even bear the thought of doing so. As well as that, you always made sure you were gone by the time the class ended. The idea of him suddenly walking out with the students, seeing you there, a student so captured by his voice that she stayed after her own class had already ended just to listen, was enough to cause your heart to hammer against your ribcage.

Still, you couldn’t help yourself. By the time the next semester’s enrollment period rolled out you were already there, putting his entomology class down despite it not matching with your major. At least now you’d have a reason to be hanging about.

Once Spring semester came around, you found yourself once again lingering in front of that door. You were allowed to venture in now, to pass that threshold you hadn’t dared to since that first day. Given the circumstances; you should’ve been elated. You were finally able see Dr. Emory in all his glory without having to hide just to hear him, but you couldn’t help the way your feet felt glued to the carpet of the hall.

It had been overwhelming. You wondered if he’d remember you peeking around his doorway, or if any of his past students had told him of the girl who would sit against the wall that existed just outside the classroom. The possibility of that, of him somehow knowing of this odd infatuation you possessed for him, had you buzzing with nerves.

For the first few week, you remained towards the back of the lecture hall, the safety of the door a necessity given that lingering thought that Dr. Emory somehow knew what you had been up to only a few weeks ago. Yet, as time proceeded on and your comfort in the room grew, you found yourself seating yourself closer and closer.

The number of people remained around forty, which meant there was no seating chart considering the numerous empty chairs that spanned around the area. This allowed you to slowly move forwards day by day, inching towards the front of the room where he spent most of the hour and a half.

Then he posed that silly prospect one day two weeks in by saying, “And if you’re curious about extra credit, you can always come to the board and draw me an insect of your liking.” It was simple, really. Just walk up there, take a stick of chalk and sketch out your favorite bug. That’s all it was, but like actually peering into the room, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

It stuck around like his voice had last semester, plaguing your mind even when you weren’t in his class. Except now it was perfectly attainable.

You were a student, you reminded yourself today as the class neared its end, and it wasn’t out of the norm for a student to want extra credit. He wouldn’t bat an eye at the fact you were seeking it out, as many of your peers had before you. So why did you feel so trapped in your seat at the very thought of doing so?

Though you gained the confidence to sit just a row back from the front, you still felt like a deer caught in headlights every time he passed you. Dr. Emory liked to walk back and forth in slow, almost calculated movements. He’d near a kid speaking, stepping right in front of the seats, then back to stand in the middle of the room until something else caught his eye and called on him to approach it.

During your time spent in the class, you began to suspect it was due to his leukocoria. His case was unknown to you as he never spoke on it, but you knew it must’ve messed with his eyesight at least a little bit, if it wasn’t still an ongoing concern of his. This could be why he felt the need to walk close up to someone speaking, especially if said student was sat at the back of the room like you had been.

You remember the first time you had spoke during class. It was a simple question regarding your newfound favorite bug, the Madagascar hissing cockroach, when he had initially talked about it. He had walked up the rows and to just a few seats away from you. You had put it on your quiet speaking voice and what you guess was his lack of sight, but it still made your throat clench up every time you thought of speaking from then on, his focus on you almost unbearable with the crush you nurtured.

That’s probably why you get so flustered just thinking about walking up to the board, you ponder as Dr. Emory announces everyone is free to go. It made going to the chalkboard while he was still there a daunting task with the way his eyes found yours every so often. It meant you’d be truly up close and personal with him, no seats or doors to add as a distraction. Still, you decided no more hiding. Today was the day you’d venture pass yet another threshold and get that extra credit.

Your hands plucked your phone from your pocket, pulling it out and typing in your passcode. A detailed picture of the cockroach species was already there, ready to function as a reference. It was that last push that you needed, your backpack straps finding their way around your shoulders as you moved from your seat and out into the rows that separated the isles of chairs.

The walk was very quick. Way too quick, you realized as Dr. Emory stood behind the wooden desk that sat in the middle of the front area of the lecture room. Suddenly you were out in the open, way too close to act like these feelings you had towards him were just a figment of your imagination.

He was occupied with the papers in front of him, until you neared even further. You were to the right of him, closing up on the vast blackboard, when you saw him turn his head towards you in your peripheral.

Your heart quickened in its already fast pace, thrumming in your chest with pounding beats. Though you tried your best to ignore his attention, it was like walking through quicksand. It kept pulling at your thoughts, leaving nothing but him to make its place in your mind. To maintain your sanity, you silently hoped he would stay where he was and just turn back to whatever he was already doing.

Unfortunately, though, as you picked up a piece of still warm chalk, you felt his stare continue to penetrate your skin like the sun on a summertime day. It seemed physical; as if his gaze had hands that wrapped around you and kept you from fully raising the chalk up to the board. You moved your shoulders under the false guise of adjusting your shoulder straps in order to somehow shake it off you.

The Madagascar hissing cockroach was gigantic. Other students went for smaller, easier bugs to make. A ladybug with its spotted shell to a couple of ants that crawled along the lower part of the chalkboard. You decided to make it as accurate as you could, mostly because you knew Dr. Emory would not only see it later on but now as he watched you make the first circular motion of its oval body.

It wasn’t odd for him to closely watch a student. His lack of eyesight meant he’d have to be closer and look more intently for longer in order to gain the same information as most other people. Still, it felt like this was more than just an intrigue at your actions. Of course, he monitored the other students momentarily as they interacted with him and others, but he always went back to whatever he was doing quickly. This time, though, it seemed he found something more worth his time to watch.

A part of you didn’t mind at all. Having his attention, someone so attractive with voice akin to vocal alcohol, was something you had only dreamed about. It actually happening was truly a personal wish of yours come true. However, another part of yourself that was driven solely by insecurity was unnerved by this action.

Why did he feel the need to watch you so closely? Were you messing up your drawing so early in its process? Maybe the prospect of extra credit had already passed as you had waited so long to do this and now he was just watching you make a fool of yourself. That thought had a blaze of heat cascading its way through you, promptly causing you to shift in an attempt to lessen its affects.

By now the cockroach was mostly done. You had sketched an outstretched hand that held the bug, showing off its size to those who cared to peer at your drawing. The lines of its shell were carefully being drawn when you heard a honeyed voice speak to your left.

“Madagascar hissing cockroach, right?” You didn’t look at him, too focused on not messing up, but you swore you heard a smile in his tone.

You nodded, then stated a simple confirmation, too nervous to add anything else.

Now you heard him chuckle. It perfectly encompassed the softness of his voice, the rasp gone and replaced by the gentleness of a passing cloud, surprisingly quieter than his normal speaking voice. “Accurate to the size,” he noted now coming to stand so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. “This much diligence could earn you more than twenty points.”

The sudden appearance of praise caused your hand to twitch, the right antenna now crooked and longer than the other one. A wave of dizziness found its way to you as you hurriedly erased it. He smelled clean, like he had just gotten out of the shower despite your class period ending at 5:30PM. There was also a faint scent of something earthly but expensive. You couldn’t help but to inhale a bit heavier.

With the antenna fixed, you held the chalk in your hand, hesitant to move and ruin the moment. He was so warm next to you as if his entire being imitated a burning furnace. It was only the first week of March, which meant winter still mingled heavily with the air. Even in here you felt the familiar nip of coldness, but with him next to you like this, you finally felt at a comfortable temperature.

His face was a blur in the corner of your eye as you hadn’t turned to face him fully yet. Moving an inch seemed like a task you weren’t prepared to do. Even then, you’d prefer to stay like this; his face too out of focus to cause the anxiety it usually did and the way you could move over just a bit and be touching him, shoulder to, well, your head.

This sentiment progressed as he cocked his head, leaning in closer to see your drawing. Immediately, all functions that came naturally to you ceased. Your breath hitched in your throat midway through, and your hands dampened. He was so close now, his face coming into clarity right next to yours.

Your eyes roved over him, devouring every little detail that you could. Dark hairs that combined to form a long stubble, even more grown out than it had been the first time you saw him. His eyes that were clouded heavily in the middle, white extending out hazily into the deep brown of his natural eye color. The way his eyelashes brushed against the tops of his cheeks as he blinked, inspecting your creation.

Then he was facing you. It was just a swift turn of his head, a small motion that had somehow caused your eyes to widen into saucers. You couldn’t help but take a step back, suddenly burning up in the room that had been so cold just moments before. Now you were really looking at him, eyes interlocked, nearly face to face with the way he had leaned down to see your drawing.

“I’m glad you like the—the drawing, Dr. Emory,” you breathed out. It came out thickly, the words blurring together with how fast they flew from your mouth. This had to be the third, maybe fourth time you’ve spoken to him? The territory was so new and utterly terrifying. You couldn’t even remember if he preferred Doctor or professor.

His spine straightens out as he came to his full height, a towering 6’2 to your own, much smaller build. “Such a beautiful bug,” he says, voice low and oh-so-very personal as it was just you and him now in the lecture room. “Is it your favorite?”

Again, your head bobs up and down.

He smiles at this, as if he knows exactly why you aren’t trusting your words. “I’m taking that as a yes,” he replies, then turns around, but not before saying, “Come with me.”

Nearly dropping the chalk back on the tray that’s connected to the board, you scamper after him, steps small and quick to match the pace in which he crosses back to his desk. Once there, you find yourself standing in front of him, the wooden work surface separating you from the entomologist.

“I have a proposition for you,” Dr. Emory announces, hands busying themselves with the sleek laptop he carries in with him every day. He opens it, tapping a few times before his eyes catch onto yours, already looking at him. There’s a glint of knowing within the white and brown haze of them when he says next, “A research paper. Strictly for you, if you’re interested, that is.”

“I am,” you blunder out all too quickly. The way he had stated that it was, in fact, just for you had something in you shifting. How could you say no, even if you had no idea why he even proposed it in the first place? Still, you attempted to redeem yourself from the embarrassingly rapid answer by asking, “Why a paper? If I may ask that.”

He chuckled again, revealing white teeth, before saying your first name. It rasped towards the end as the word came out, something that had your mouth going dry. “Why did you take this class?” Then, with slight amusement evident in his tone, “If I may ask that.”

Your mouth pulls back in confusion. The worry is apparently evident on your face as he goes to speak again. “You seem to be very…intrigued in what I have to say, but you’re always so hesitant to speak out directly to me, and in your group assignments.”

“Oh,” is all you can utter out, swallowing thickly before taking interest in the way the pattern of the hard floor changes in coloring. Dark and light browns mottled together being separated as planks by thin, black lines.

“I’m asking because participation is a crucial factor in my class. Our group is small if you haven’t noticed already. It’s important to stay connected with your peers when studying such a specific subgroup of zoology,” he continues on when you don’t give him more of a response. From where your gaze is, you can see one of his fingers twitch from its place on his desk. “Your grade has suffered an amount due to this. I figured I’d offer a way to make it up since you do seem interested in what I have to say.”

“I appreciate that, Dr. Emory,” you say, still not raising your eyes to him. It’s not like your grade was bad. A high B was something you were actually proud of considering this class pertained to a subject so entirely different to what you’re used to learning. Plus, zoology was interesting, but you hadn’t taken a particular interest in insects until now. As you look up to say what you want to next, you find his eyes already on you, his head shifting and following your nervous movements. “I’ll do the research paper.”

He seemed satisfied with your answer, the hand that was on the desk coming up to rub at the scruffy hair that made its home on his face while he looked over what was on his laptop screen. “That’s great to hear. It should be six pages over a subject pertaining to this class. I’ll email you the details and the rubric.”

That evening once you were home you took out your own computer from your bag, starting it up with the recent events heavy in your mind.

It wasn’t just the conversation you shared, but the way he stood so closely next to you. He didn’t do this with other students, or at least none that you’d noticed before. In fact, you hadn’t even seen when the others drew their insect of choice on the board. Maybe he watched them like he did earlier with you, smelling so heavenly and relaying praise like a second tongue.

Or could this really just be for you?

The proposal of a research paper, strictly for you, had you thinking that maybe, just maybe, this was an interaction not so commonly handed out. He had to have been watching you, noticing the way you kept to yourself to be able to bring it up with such specifics. Or perhaps he was just close with his students.

Your mind went back and forth on the subject, the torture so much that you decided to head to bed early without looking at the email he said he’d sent over the matter.

#asa emory #asa emory x you #asa emory x reader #the collector #the collection #the collector x reader #the collector x you #slashers x reader #slashers

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harpagornis · 2 years ago

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Multituberculate Earth: Birds

(As with all animal pages so far, this only goes so far into the Oligocene… for now)

At first, the avifauna of this timeline evolved much as ours. Only the toothless crown birds survived the KT event (though outliers like Qinornis may indicate other lineages survived briefly; one study did note the similarities between pelagornithids and ichthyornithids, but it hasn’t made the plunge), several lineages quickly producing megafauna to replace non-avian dinosaurs and other great reptiles. Gastornithiforms and ratites occupied large herbivore niches on land, pelagornithids and lithornithids attained large wingspans as competing pterosaurs ceased to exist and giant penguins and plotopterids were the first vertebrates to occupy large predatory niches at sea (barring sharks of course). To say nothing of the massive variety of smaller birds like stem-tropicbirds, the passerine-like zygodactylids and carnivorous parrots.

But the absence of an Azolla Event put avian evolution in a very different track from the Eocene onwards. For starters, without a mid-Eocene cooling to alter forest biomes, lithornithids and presbyornithids didn’t decline, thus preventing an opening for several lineages like cranes, storks and pelecaniforms. Many groups that depended on the cooling temperatures, like seagulls and relatives, also did not get the opening they wished for. Some modern groups you might assume quintessential, like ducks and shorebirds, were either greatly crippled or did not get to rise.

Likewise, the evolution of flying mammals put some pressures on birds that our bats didn’t have, but for the most part both groups managed to co-exist. Niche partitioning is easy when you can fly anywhere to get resources, after all, and birds are no strangers to it given how they co-existed with pterosaurs and other Mesozoic flyers for over one hundred million years.

By far the greatest challenge faced by birds thus far was the Grand Coupure, leading to a dramatic collapse of forest habitats. For European and Balkanatolian flightless birds it was particularly hard as their isolation in Europe came to a drastic end, but several flightless lineages remained in the Oligocene.

Because there are lots of Cenozoic bird groups, some more understood than others, this is something of a work in progress. However, I will list the bird groups that I have most assuredly set in stone.

Palaeognaths

The so called “old jaws” might be something of a misnomer, as some Cretaceous birds already had a neognath palate and their own palate is much more advanced than in some other early birds, but regardless they do invoke that prehistoric mystique. In our timeline the sole survivors are the flightless ratites + tiny tinamous, animals that truly seem to come from the era of the dinosaurs.

In this timeline, ratites similarly diversified, with rheas and other poorly understood taxa in South America and Antarctica, members of the cassowary/emu line in Australia, elephant birds in Madagascar (and possibly mainland Afro-Arabia) and a variety of stem-ostriches in North America, Europe and Asia. But it is another group, the flying lithornithids, that remain the most diverse and arguably spectacular group.

In our timeline, lithornithids started the Cenozoic in style, dispersing across the northern continents as forest dwelling probers like modern woodcocks. They were far more efficient flyers than our timeline’s surviving flying paleognaths, the tinamous, there being evidence of migratory behaviour and stork-like soaring, and some species attained quite large sizes. In our timeline the mid-Eocene cooling seems to have doomed them, but in the prolonged hothouse conditions of this timeline they managed to acclimate and diversify further.

Some lineages were lost in the Grand Coupure, but those that survived were ready for the spread of open habitats. Many forms occupy niches taken in our world by cranes and storks, prowling the steppes or stalking the swamps for small animals and nutrious plant matter. Others have diversified as shorebird analogues, probing along the coastlines. Some conversely became smaller and hoopoe-like; lithornithids were already more efficient perchers than other palaeognaths, so a few managed to capitalize on arboreal niches.

Though efficient flyers, lithornithids lack tails, relying mostly on their own wings for steering (for reference, see videos on tailless kites or hawks). Like in their ratite cousins it is the male that protects the eggs and offpsring, though in some derived species the young are superprecocial and can fly soon after birth, a condition seen in many Mesozoic birds. Many species have glossy eggs and feathers like cassowaries.

Other than lithornithids, there seems to be some other flying palaeognaths about. The stem-ostrich Eogrus for example is traditionally considered capable of at least some flying abilities, while flying stem-kiwis must be around somewhere given Proapteryx. And, of course, there’s the ancestors of tinamous, which have not yet debuted in the fossil reccord for some reason (in both timelines).

Pelagornithids

The so called “pseudo-toothed” birds due to tooth-like serrations in their bills, these seabirds are a mystery. Sometimes they are grouped among albatrosses and other higher waterbirds, other times they’re considered closely related to waterfowl, with most recent studies putting them in a polytomy between both groups. As mentioned above there is a study that does note similarities between their jaws and those of aquatic toothed seabirds, and given that their serrations seem to share a true molecular origin with teeth I wouldn’t be surprised if they were surviving toothed seabirds all along.

Anyways, besides the “teeth” (which were acquired late in life, implying prolonged parental care) the most notable feature of pelagornithids is their size. These are easily the largest flying birds of all time, some reaching wingspans of over 7 meters. Because they lack the quadrupedal launching of flying mammals and pterosaurs, they compensated by become extremely lightweight like living kites, thus while they look fearsome they most hunt small, soft prey like squids. Its even possible they can’t flap their wings anymore, relying solely on thermal soaring like modern frigatebirds (and not dynamic soaring like albatrosses), to which they can be considered close analogues if much larger.

While the evolution of giant insulonycteriids might seem like a disaster for these enormous birds, in truth both groups get along just fine (most of the time). The giant flying mammals are most robust and can hunt proportionally larger prey and even dive, so if the pelagornithids are the frigatebirds the insulonycteriids are the albatrosses and gannets.

Pelagornithids in both timelines have been extrariordinarily resilient, surviving from the PETM and Grand Coupure in spite of their effects to the marine biosphere. They died out in our timeline just as humans evolved, for unclear reasons; we’ll see if they have better luck here.

Gastornithiformes

Like ratites gastornithiforms lost the ability to fly and attained large sizes, occupying the niches left by ceratopsians and other herbivorous dinosaurs. They are clearly galloanseres, though its currently debated if they are closer to waterfowl or to galliforms.

Like ratites, they attained a cosmopolitan distribution, with gastornithids in the northern continents, dromornithids in Australia and Brontornis in South America, though gastornithids disappeared from Asia and North America in the PETM. Unlike ratites they have massive, powerful beaks, apt to crush through seeds and harsh plant matter like branches. In Europe they in fact were the most common megafauna, with few large mammals, much like in our timeline. With the Grand Coupure the collapse of rainforests and the arrival of Asian predatory mammals they disappeared from the former island continent, but they continued to thrive in Australia and in South America.

Presbyornithids

Presbyornithids are a clade of long legged waterfowl that first evolved in the Cretaceous and attained a diversity peak during the Paleocene, before declining in the Eocene of our timeline, reduced to only the terrestrial, goose-like Wilaru by the Miocene. This is often attributed to competition with anatid waterfowl, but studies show that they were incapable of filter-feeding, so they must have occupied fairly different ecological niches at the water’s edge.

In this timeline, they kept thriving thanks to the continuous hotshouse conditions, and more overtly diversified in piscivorous and crustacean eater niches akin to those of shoebills, spoonbills and even pelicans and ibises. Consequently, many of these waterbirds did not evolve in this timeline.

A partiular clade related to Wilaru kept exploring terrestrial biomes. These developed a novel way to process food: chewing it. Yes, some birds can chew (even used in the past to explain phylogenetic relationships between cuckoos and mousebirds before genetics said nah), using the cranial kinesis common to all crown birds to slide the upper jaw against the lower jaw in a pestle and mortar like way.

These birds, the Chakranatids, found thus a way to not only process plant matter more efficient while minimising fermentation, so they for the most part retained the ability to fly. Still, some have become large flightless herbivores, a distant echo of the Mesozoic hadrosaurs.

Palaelodids

The niche of ducks was instead taken by a decidedly non-waterfowl clade: the palaeolodids, relatives to flamingos and grebes. Neither divers or specialised filter-feeders (barring some species), these birds are rather generalistic, adapted to swim and catch small animals and plants with their broad beaks. They first debuted in the Oligocene in both timelines, though they might have a potentially older origin given grebes and flamingos split further back in the Cenozoic and Eocene fossil birds like Juncitarsus seem to represent the last common ancestor between these three groups.

Coliiformes

(A suggestion by Tozarkt777 on reddit)

In our timeline’s Paleocene, before passerines had evolved and spread to the northern hemisphere, the songbird niche was held by the Coliformes, an order that now only includes the mousebirds in our timeline, but back then comprised of many more species and many more niches, from generalistic grain-feeders to raptorial forms. They were most diverse in the Paleocene and Eocene before losing ground from there onwards.

Their decline likely is attributed to the PETM, and with the warm conditions of Multituberculate Earth having been maintained, so did mousebird rule. These are now the dominant small birds in the northern and African canopies, passerines now mostly restricted to small insectivores and nectivores.

Cariamiformes

Represented by the vicious little seriemas in our timeline’s present, this group is best known for producing the infamous terror birds. However, a variety of other extinct groups also existed in the early Cenozoic, including another clade of infamous flightless killers, the bathornithids. Though known from usually more fragmentary remains, they too were incapable of flying and had deep, powerful beaks, well suited to tear flesh.

Proving that mammals still oughta fear theropods, the terror birds spread far and wide in the Eocene. Eleutherornis and relatives terrorised Europe while Lavocatavis and kin terrorised Africa; it is in fact unclear if terror birds evolved in the Old World and later raft/swam (or flew, if the last common ancestor still could fly) to South America like many mammals did or if inversely it went the other way around. We do know at least that Eleutherornis is a late comer to Europe as it arrived only in the mid-Eocene, so the group likely didn’t evolve there, though many other cariamiform groups were present, from the crow-like Salmila to the herbivorous, also flightless Strigogyps.

Meanwhile, South America was host to a larger diversity of terror birds, and across the sea North America was ruled by a large diversity of bathornithids. Both groups co-existed with predatory mammals in both timelines, and attained large sized species over two meters tall. The African and European species seem to have gone extinct in the Grand Coupure – the later doubtlessly affected by the extinction of indigenous prey and the arrival of new competitors – but the Americas saw an adaptive radiation in response to the spread of open grasslands. Predatory mammal groups may rise and fall, but these dinosaurs seem to be a constant, though for how long remains to be seen.

Besides large predatory forms, there are a variety of other poorly understood forms, like the aforementioned European species. Some, like Elaphrocnemus, appear to have been efficient flyers, less adapted to run like their terrestrial cousins but capable of soaring for long distances. while others like Qianshanornis seem to have been functionally similar to hawks and eagles. Most of these groups died out in the Grand Coupure, unable to cope with the loss of forest habitats.

#multituberculate earth #speculative zoology #spec evo #speculative biology #speculative evolution #bird #birds #dinosaur #dinosaurs #bathornis #lithornis #presbyornis

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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

Text

He’s A Keeper

Summary: Working as an artist hired by Durrell Zoo, you spend your days sketching the day to day life of the animals and the keepers. One keeper in particular catches your eye.

Pairing: AU Zookeeper Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)

Fandom: Henry Cavill

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Safe Sex/Use of Condoms, Realistic Sex/Relationship discussion, Vaginal Sex.

Typo’s are allowed to run wild and free, only the finest organic free range fuck ups for me.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and hit ‘notifications’, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new. Back catalogue/masterlist can be found there and also on AO3

He’s A Keeper

Working the pencils over the sketchpad you quietly captured the beauty of the animals the zookeepers had nursed back to full health, the Ruffed Lemur currently hanging off the keepers arm as he spoke through the headset to the group of excited school children watching through the glass.

You’d been hired by the zoo to capture day to day life at the zoo throughout the summer season, drawing the animals and the humans, however there was one particular human you had found yourself drawn to numerous times, and that was the rather tasty zookeeper by the name of Henry. He also had one of the sexiest voices you’d ever had the pleasure to listen to, so as he explained about the Lemur’s your mind wandered, as did your gaze;

“... originally from Madagascar, and have been part of Durrell zoo since 1982 where they have been essential to the breeding program…”

Your mind fell even further into the gutter at the word ‘breeding’, your eyes raking down Henry’s body, taking in how the branded t-shirt clung to his chest before tapering down to a narrow waist where it was neatly tucked into cargo pants that did little to hide how thick his thighs were and a pert arse you could bounce a satsuma off of. Biting the end of the pencil you had all but given up drawing, only realising that the talk was over when the group of school children were being herded onto the next exhibit by their tour guide and teachers.

When the kids had disappeared you finally got back to drawing, watching as Henry finished up feeding the Lemur’s before he met your gaze and smiled at you. Tapping your pencil on the glass he frowned and shook his head, before smiling and pointing to the sign in the corner of the window that said ‘do not tap the glass’, getting closer you tried to mouth your words to him, but was surprised when his eyes went wide in almost shock, before looking down and realising you had pressed your chest to the glass, your low cut cami top helping to accentuate your cleavage. When you looked up again he was gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, before he appeared through a door to the side of the viewing area;

“Hi” he had a smile that could charm the panties off a nun; “Did you want me?”

“God yes…” Oh fuck, did you say that out loud?; “Sorry, i mean, you’ve dropped the foam bit off your headset...”

He glanced into the enclosure just at the moment one of the larger Lemur’s picked up the small round piece of foam and staring straight at Henry, proceeded to rip it into tiny pieces.

“Furry little fucker…” he cursed under his breath before turning back to you, but before he could say anything a group of other keepers came walking in and soon you were hanging onto the periphery of their conversation where they were discussing going for drinks after work. Moving to pack your stuff up as you presumed they weren’t including you, but a call of your nickname drew your attention;

“Hey Da Vinci, you up for a few beers after work?”

You hesitated to answer, glancing at Henry who had a smile across his face and a hopeful look in his eye;

“We’re all going…”

“Ok, yeah sure, that’d be great” you agreed.

An hour later you were sitting on the wall outside the main entrance waiting for the rest of the keepers to finish their shifts, smiling as you saw them coming out of the doors, and the ensuing 10 minutes that followed as people sorted out who was driving and how many people could fit into just a couple of small cars. As spaces were allocated Henry laughed and shook his head;

“I am NOT riding five up in a Renault Clio, i’m too tall, i’ll have to fold myself in half! Where are we going anyway, i can take my bike and just walk home after”

Waiting as everyone discussed location and finished off seat allocation, they’d finally decided when Henry turned to you;

“Hey, i think the last seats are in the stoner wagon…”

“Oh…” you didn’t have anything against anyone smoking pot, but didn’t fancy being in a car you could barely see out of the windows of.

“But you can ride with me on my bike?”

Looking to where Henry was pointing, you saw a fairly large trails bike, the kind that could go 50mph over rough land and through forests;

“I… I don’t have a helmet…”

“Wait here, let me run into the locker room and grab the spare i keep here”

Everyone else pulled away as Henry ran into the zoo, and you glanced at the bike. You’d never been on a motorbike before, so this would be a first. Stowing everything loose in your backpack, you hooked it over both shoulders just as Henry reemerged from the building, swinging his keys from one finger as he came to stand in front of you;

“Hey, thanks for waiting”

“No worries! So, where are we going again?”

“The pub in Rozel does good food and pulls a great pint” he nodded to his left and you saw a row of motorbikes; “You ever ridden?”

Shaking your head you laughed; “No, never”

He carefully helped you put the helmet on, his nimble fingers helping to secure the strap beneath your chin before putting his own on and climbing onto the bike, pushing it off the kick stand and nodding for you to climb on. You tried to sit back, but he wrapped his arm behind his back and pulled you flush to his body;

“Gotta hold on tight, otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Lean when i lean and just squeeze a bit harder if you’re scared, the ride won’t take long” he shouted over the thrum of the noisy engine idling.

The ride down to the small village of Rozel had been exhilarating, from the vibration of the motorbike between your legs to the way you were able to wrap your arms around Henry’s waist and cling to him as he hurtled around the country roads at what seemed like warp speed, when in fact it was little more than 30mph. By the time you arrived in the small fishing cove your heart was racing and you actually let out a reluctant moan at the thought of removing your arms from around Henry’s waist.

“C’mon” he grinned as he helped you off the bike; “I’ll buy you a vodka and coke to calm your nerves”

“It wasn’t nerves” you muttered to yourself, smirking as you know he heard you.

The group had managed to find a cluster of small tables chairs and benches in the corner of the pub beer garden, and as the sun had set behind the hills to the rear of the pub, the cold Atlantic sea had glowed in pale blues and pinks. You were squashed into a bench with Henry on one side and another enormous hulk of a keeper on the other, and as the temperature had dropped you’d found yourself thankful that Henry had casually rested his arm behind you so you could leech some of his warmth, but it didn’t stop a violent shiver involuntarily running up your spine.

“Cold?” Henry asked quietly, before gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close; “Any better?”

You nodded and let out a very quiet whine as you smiled at him, completely surrounded by his scent and warmth. It made your stomach do a flip and you clenched your thighs together, something that didn’t get past Henry as your leg twitched against his thigh. Before either of you could say anything an enormous bowl of cheesy fries was set down between you, your stomach growling at the aroma’s that wafted around you as it turned out someone had ordered sharing bowls for the whole table.

With the meal mostly devoured as you’d sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the pub garden, laughing as you fed each other and strings of cheese hung from your fingers. As the giggles of a joke faded away you glanced at Henry’s almost finished pint;

“Hey, you aren’t planning on riding that bike home are you?”

“Nah, i’d never drive after a pint, let alone three… my place is just behind The Navigator restaurant…” he paused; “Oh god, where are you staying, do i need to call you a taxi?”

“No no, i’m renting a studio up the hill, on the hairpin bend”

“Oh…”

It wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ and there was definitely something loaded in the subtext, so when people had started to leave and arrange ride’s back to St Helier and St Johns it felt natural for Henry to stand with his arm around your shoulders as you both waved everyone off.

“Can i walk you home?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise, and you nodded as he slid his hand into yours, leading you along the low coast road that skirted the harbour.

You hadn’t gotten far before the evening turned even better, a brief suggestion of a walk along the beach as the tide was out soon had your feet in soft sand as you were pressed to the weathered stone of the sea wall, Henry’s lips on your neck as your fingers dug into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at whatever exposed flesh he could find. You hadn’t even realised he was going lower until he was on his knees in front of you, those sea blue irises staring up at you as he pressed kisses to your legs where your shorts ended. His fingers softly rested on the button and he finally spoke, his voice low and thick with lust;

“May i?”

Nodding fervently you bit your lip as you watched him slowly unbutton you, pulling the garment down your legs until you were able to step out. Never breaking eye contact he lifted your leg and gently rested it on his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until his face was pressed against your panties and his wide tongue worked against the soaked cotton and lace. His finger crooked beneath them and tugged the scrap of fabric to the side, seeking out your clit before tracing down to your cunt and tenderly teasing the entrance.

“Henry… please…” you whined, desperate for more

“Don’t you worry, i’m gonna make you see stars…”

Pushing his head forwards his lips caught your clit as he slowly slid two fingers into your soaked channel. You let out a long groan at the feel of his lips and fingers finding the right spot immediately, his other hand cupping the back of your thigh before he ran it around your hip and caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he quickly drove you closer and closer to the edge with that added touch of intimacy. Suddenly he hummed against your clit and the world exploded, making you cum so hard you truly did see stars as a white heat bloomed in your belly and you rode Henry’s fingers until you were spent.

As you rested against the wall behind you he carefully withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he tugged your shorts up your legs. You couldn’t help but to notice the obscene bulge in the front of his cargo pants, your hand rubbing over the smooth curve of it;

“You keep doing that and i’ll cum in my boxers… “ he panted out, his lips inches from yours; “What’s your room like?”

“Its a little summer cabin studio right at the end of the garden, away from the other holiday rentals and the main house… what about you…”

“Shared flat with two other guys from the zoo. They’re probably drinking in the lounge right now… so, your place?”

Unlocking the door you stepped inside and turned on a small lamp, standing aside so Henry could come into your small summer living space.

“Mmm nice” he nodded and looked around; “Wanna give me the tour?”

You snorted out a laugh at the formality, and held your arm out;

“Well this is the kitchen area, right next door we have the smallest shower room in Jersey, and here’s the bed” you didn’t need to take a single step for the ‘tour’, the room seeming even smaller as Henry took a single stride and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you flush with his chest. Never breaking eye contact he gently trailed a single finger over your cheek, his thumb brushing your plump bottom lip;

“Are you going to be good for me?”

Your legs almost buckled at the deep baritone of his voice, igniting something within you that you hadn’t even known existed, eagerly nodding;

“Yes Sir”

Lowering his lips to yours he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips as he took control, walking the pair of you back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the soft unmade covers. Covering your body with his, he quickly stripped you of your clothing, his mouth trailing behind his hands so every inch of you was gifted with a kiss.

Standing between your legs he pulled his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of his body; toned and just the right amount of hair on his chest and a treasure trail on his abdomen that surely led to untold riches. Quickly sitting up your hands joined his on his button to his cargo pants;

“May i?”

Henry released his hands and nodded, watching as you carefully plucked the button before lowering the zipper painfully slowly, his boxers tented obscenely and you couldn’t help but to cup him in your palm, the searing heat of his engorged cock a welcome feel in your hands, the wide mushroom head clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Unceremoniously tugging the rest of his clothing down, you felt yourself getting wetter as his beautiful cock was finally revealed; big, thick and uncut, you had to taste him and quickly ducked your head forwards, swallowing his head between your lips as his hands flew to your hair to steady himself.

Now it was your turn to drive him crazy with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could even though it was barely half of his length, you wrapped both hands around what was left, the thick root of his shaft filling both palms. A few more pumps and he pulled his hips back with a gasp, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his bulbous tip;

“If you keep doing that i’m gonna cum far too soon…” he said, his voice shaking; “Lay back and let me treat you right…”

Scooting up the bed you settled against the pillows as you watched Henry shed himself of the rest of his clothing, his boots and socks hooked off, cargo pants and underwear all left in a messy pile at the side of the bed, before he crawled up the mattress like a Panther stalking its prey.

Capturing your lips for another searing kiss, you felt his hot shaft against your belly, burning against your skin and you so desperately wanted to feel him inside you. Pulling away just slightly you were already breathless;

“Just a second…” reaching for the small drawer at side of the bed you pulled out an unopened box of condoms, Henry sitting back on his knees as you ripped the box’s cellophane open with your teeth and pulled out a small foil packet, tearing it open before smoothing the latex over Henry’s shaft. Looking up to his face he wore a rather sheepish smile;

“Sorry, shoulda’ thought of that”

“S’ok, a girl’s gotta keep sharp these days…”

“Right…” he met your gaze; “But you know, if you had gotten pregnant, i would have stood by you”

“Umm thanks? But its for STD’s. I’m on the pill”

“Oh… good thinking…”

A tense pause hung over the pair of you, before you reached up and rested your hand on his chest;

“Shall we continue?”

At your words the tension in the room suddenly dissipated, Henry kissing you as he slid a hand between your bodies so he could position himself at your entrance, groaning as he pushed in slowly breaching your body. Your tight channel hugged him tight, unfamiliar with such a size splitting your walls so he paused, pressing light kisses to your face as your body grew accustomed with his size and the heavy weight of his dick in your pillowy soft embrace. Finally you moaned out his name;

“Henry… please…”

“What do you need?”

“Move… please move. Fuck me, please”

Pushing up on his forearms he started to fluidly move his hips, slow and steady, each thrust was gentle but firm, your body yielding to him as he started to increase the pace, the sound of hot bodies meeting filling the small wooden cabin as the gentle sounds of the sea not far away filled the rest of the night. Soft moans spilled from your lips at the feel of his body playing yours like a delicate instrument, waiting for the chorus and the inevitable crescendo. But he was going to play the entire symphony first, knowing how to get you to sing the high notes as the thrum of your bodies were in tune with each other completely.

With the stretch of his girth and the way the curve of it meant he was able to find your g-spot with every thrust you were fast approaching your orgasm, your body trembling as your lips found a life of their own;

“Henry… please, so good… keep doing that… oh god, i’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, my good girl, cum on my cock, let me feel you squeezing me so tight… feel so amazing right now… that’s it, you can do it…”

With a cry you came, your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him deep whilst your body shook with a fierce orgasm, triggering his own as he pumped a heavy load into the condom.

Finally spent, Henry settled on top of you, his weight a heavy comfort as your sweaty bodies lay skin to skin, the gentle roughness of his chest hair against your naked breasts a tender reminder of his virility. When he started to soften he finally shifted, holding the condom at the base as he pulled out and staggered the few steps to your small bathroom;

“I’ll be back in a second, gotta sort this out…”

The door closed and you shifted on the bed, pulling the duvet back and sliding between the sheets, listening as you heard the tell tale sound of a man urinating and the high pitched, double barrelled squeak of a fart. The flush of the toilet and water running soon after meant you knew the second he would reappear, a flannel in his hand and he stopped dead, his cheeks suddenly bright crimson;

“You heard that didn’t you?”

“It's a small wooden cabin… yes i did”

“Sorry” he approached the bed and with a warm flannel he carefully cleaned between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did. When finished he sat on the side of the bed; “Can i stay the night, or did you want me to go?”

“Have you got work tomorrow?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. Please, stay”

He quickly threw the flannel into the sink in the bathroom, before with a giggle climbed under the duvet and pulled you into his arms;

“So, how many more condom’s you got?”

The morning light broke softly through the trees that surrounded your cabin, your body sore but sated, knowing every bruise and ache came from soft lips, sharp teeth, or skilled fingers, apart from that one ache deep inside that you knew exactly what had caused that delicious soreness, and the owner and cause of all of it still softly slept in your bed. Climbing out you quickly used the bathroom, and as you came back into the room the artist in you couldn’t help but to admire how the dappled morning light cascaded over Henry’s body. Slipping his work t-shirt over your head you pulled your sketchbook from your backpack and settled onto the only chair in the room, quietly working carbon to paper.

Henry woke 45 minutes later, the gentle scratching of your art making him squint at the bright daylight, before laying back on the pillows with his arms spread;

“Still life class?”

Setting your sketchbook down you padded across the room and climbed onto the bed;

“Sorry, i couldn’t help myself… the way the sun was hitting the muscles of your back and shoulders, you were like an anatomy masterpiece”

With a laugh and moving much quicker than you thought he was possible of, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you, his body atop of yours;

“Well that’s enough of that, i would like to become better acquainted with your anatomy… and as we’ve both got the day off i suggest we make the most of it”

Laughing you fell into his embrace, sighing with happiness. Henry really was a keeper, as you were for sure not going to let him go.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfiction

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