#anime adjacents

[gallusrostromegalus]

Technical difficulties with the previous post but when we last left off I was making bows for the Sakura/Matcha Milk Tea Cow Sweet Lolita Fursuit... Thing. Look I have a vision, and that vision is adorable. Anyway, tail bow pics from last night:

Slept on it, then deep-cleaned the upstairs on it, and I've decided it needs... More.

[sadbutbadboi]

forbidden sixth REAL!?!?!??!?

[yellowocaballero]

Trigun 98 really is the anime of all time. It did absolutely say "Here is the biggest idiot you've ever seen in your life. It's going to be four episodes until he does anything that is not blindingly moronic and it's going to be five before he says a sentence that is not a lie. We are now going to vaguely imply that he has a dead girlfriend and that's why he's sad. You will learn ten episodes later that the dead girlfriend is his mother. In episode nine a random man is going to call him depressed and they will spend the next three episodes doing absolutely nothing important but forming an unshakable bond of friendship, and we are also going to learn that they are in space."

What are we supposed to do with any of this. Insurance agents with fifty guns and one gigantic gun respectively are the only reason we have a plot at all. An entire episode's resolution only makes sense with information we are never told and barely implied. The main character is Jesus but also a deconstruction of Jesus. I feel like the show is giving me a rabid guinea pig and leaving me to wonder why this guinea pig is on crack before telling me three hours later that he's a robot guinea pig, answering no questions and raising so much more.

[stick-by-me]

Be a little silly!

New follower sticker for: @betatrolls!

[tervaneula]

So I finally managed to struggle through the first season of Usagi Chronicles and when the credits rolled I instantly flew up from the sofa to my computer and started drawing this uhgdfgj USAGI IS SO STUPID and 100% the kind of stupid that does not go away with age. I love that for him sm

[lgbtqtext]

[tigerbears]

Some Monsters are Furries.

[sallymew4]

totally spectacular my dude

colored versions and a free version to let him say whateeeever you want...just dont get him cancelled on Twitter <3

[prwlnglthr]

I like the King a little snaggletooth'd and scruffy

[hools]

A little cats club animatic [-:

[mic-check-stims]

Day 10: Make a board based on your favorite animal

I couldn't find enough video footage of xenoturbellida and I already made a board with siphonophores pretty recently, so. Coral.

X-X-X X-X X-X-X

[crocswithoutsocks]

I found out there was an anteater LPS so obviously the only logical thing to do was go and buy one immediately and make it into Flint. My phone hates me so pictures are bad but look!!!!! That's a little guy!!!!!

[sketch-twentytwo]

In the manga you can kind of excuse everyone's complacency with the spiral curse because only one dastardly, supernatural thing happens at a time (a side effect of the manga being released weekly in Big Comic Spirits, according to wikapedia).

But in the ANIME??

Six fucking spiral things happen in episode TWO—I know they got a lotta ground to cover to get through a twenty chapter manga, but that is so many horrific and strange events to occur all at once.

What do you MEAN Kirie—and everyone else for that matter—isn't FLEEING THAT TOWN WITH HASTE.

The pacing in the manga makes it feel like "oh yeah Shuichi's parents died strangely, and there's been a few other odd things here and there, but it's not that big a deal". But in the anime YOU ARE CRAZY IF YOU DO NOT THINK THIS IS GROUNDS TO FUCKIN' SKEDADDLE DAWG.

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Hnfgothinapwsogthoporepdnf why is every discussion on this webbed site that includes dolphins about how bottlenose dolphins commit atrocious war crimes I'm so tired can we please move away from that please please please learn other jokes

[marlynnofmany]

Small-Scale Comedy

A lot of the time when our little courier ship makes deliveries to alien planets, the captain will send someone of the customer’s species for the hand-off. It puts them at ease to see a familiar face and all that. Usually. Other times, the customer is of a notoriously egotistical species, likely to feel affronted if the delivery person has a shinier exoskeleton than they do.

Guess which today was.

“Good greetings,” Mur said, looking up at the insectlike bundle of limbs that loomed over him. Our customer for today was colored in white and the palest pinks, edging into more vivid red at the ends of her legs, and the blades of her pincher arms. She looked like a murderous flower.

And while we had two perfectly eligible Mesmers back on the ship, one of whom I’d accompanied on similar deliveries before, Captain Sunlight had decided to send in two of the squishiest crewmates instead.

Mur lifted the package with half of his tentacles, using the rest to hold himself up at a respectable height. I stood behind him with the payment tablet. I tried to stand very still.

Instead of grabbing the box or offering to pay, the customer called imperiously for someone to come open it for her. We were indoors, in what I’d thought was an empty room aside from all the tables molded from the same brown clay as the walls, and the copious amounts of junk on them. (Buildings here were made of the classiest mud I’d seen in a while, with burnished tabletops and patterned walls. But the mess of scientific equipment and photography supplies was much less classy.)

One of the locals scurried out from one of the many holes in the wall that I’d honestly thought were decoration, but now that I thought about it, there had been a balcony at about that height outside. No need for elaborate doorways when you’re shaped like a centipede.

Yeah, our customer was a large bug person spending time among smaller bug people. This was a comparison that was probably only amusing to me, so I kept it to myself. I’m getting good at that.

The centiperson ��� no idea what they’re actually called — scuttled over and took the box from Mur. This looked like a risky operation to me, and I had my hands out to catch it just in case the leg-sized whatever toppled over backward, but everything went fine. Their many top legs clung to the box while that long body curled into an S, and their bottom legs skittered over to set the box on a table. Then the centiperson manipulated the combination lock with some very skilled little leggies, and opened the box.

The Mesmer swooped in to pull out a sheet of what looked like tiny stickers, muttering and inspecting it for flaws. When I was starting to wonder if Mur or I should remind her that she still needed to pay for the delivery, she handed it off to the centiperson, whose many legs handled it with more dexterity than her little wrist fingers could. Mesmer pincher arms are excellent at doing damage, but not great for detail work.

“Right, yes, money,” she said, turning back toward us. “Put those on the three in the test chamber!” That part was for her assistant, who was already climbing up onto a table full of terarriums and lightboxes. “Tell me they’re doing better!”

I held out the payment tablet. She grabbed it with a pincher and typed in her information, making me glad for the thick rubber casing on the edges. We could have used a metal case for it, but Zhee had demonstrated how easy those were to dent by crushing one with his own pinchers. It had turned out like a work of art.

“They are healthy,” reported the small voice of the centiperson. “I have applied the cameras.”

“And?” demanded the Mesmer, striding over without giving the tablet back. “Show me!” She peered down into a white-sided box that currently had a lot of lights aimed at it.

Before I could ask, something happened in the box to make the Mesmer exclaim in frustration and lift the tablet skyward. Mur made a noise, worried just like I was that she was about to smash it.

But instead she just stalked back over and thrust it into my hands. “Here. Either of you know much about animals?”

I, with my veterinarian training, had to answer, “Yes.” Mur was pointing at me with multiple tentacles.

“Good. Tell me what is wrong with these animals.”

I found myself ushered over none too gently, while the centiperson moved aside and the Mesmer spoke at length about the videography work she had come here to do.

“The final thing I need is a point-of-view recording from one of these, and I have acquired the absolute smallest of camera tabs, and I am starting to worry that the local population is diseased.”

“Why?” I asked uneasily. The white box held three tiny whatevers, each smaller than my last finger joint, as brown as the walls. They had froglike hopping legs, though none seemed interested in going anywhere. Their faces were pointed like bird beaks, and an itty-bitty camera tab sat on each head like a tiny hat.

“Their jumping is impaired,” the Mesmer said from above me. I made a mental note not to turn around quickly. “And I know that it’s not the cameras throwing them off; those have the molecular weight of smoke. I’m more concerned that something is wrong with all of the creatures here. None of the ones we’ve caught can land on their feet.”

To demonstrate, she stuck a pincher blade into the box, which made the three not-frogs scatter.

Wow, she’s not kidding, I thought as they landed on everything but their feet. They scrambled upright quickly enough, but that was some spectacular tiny pratfalls.

From right next to me, Mur asked, “Is there a disease that causes that?” He’d climbed onto the table himself, and was watching with interest.

“It’s possible,” I said. The centiperson was observing in silence, and I asked, “Are they always like this?”

“Yes.” The answer came quickly, in a flat voice that suggested this conversation had happened before.

The Mesmer waved a pincher arm, folded this time. “The entire population may be suffering from something, either a creeping illness or a low-level poison.”

“It could be,” I said slowly, watching the centiperson turn their head toward the ceiling in what looked an awful lot like exasperation. “Or these animals could be built like a small animal on my planet, with a similar problem.”

I had all their attention now.

“What problem?” demanded the Mesmer.

“Their inner ear is too small to work properly,” I said, gesturing toward the side of my own head. “The part that senses which direction gravity is pulling. It has fluid that needs to slosh around, but the channel isn’t big enough to do it.”

There was silence for a heartbeat, then Mur said “Wow,” and the Mesmer said, “WHAT?”

The centiperson just said, “That makes sense.”

“An entire species can be like that??” exclaimed the Mesmer, stepping back to where she could gesture without hitting anything.

“We did tell you,” said the centiperson.

“I thought it was toxins!”

The centiperson looked at me. “The common name for them is ‘headhoppers.’”

“I thought they had a habit of jumping onto people’s heads!”

Not replying to that, the centiperson produced a little hand net from the far side of the table, and deftly scooped up the tiny not-frogs. They really were about the size of Pumpkin Toadlets, just not bright orange, or fully frog-shaped. Once these had their tiny camera-hats removed, they tumbled willingly into a terrarium full of plants.

“Well,” Mur said, “That’s interesting.” He hopped to the floor with a splat.

The Mesmer was complaining to the world at large that fate was cruel and she’d never get the recording she wanted.

I looked to the local. “Are there any similar animals that are a little bigger?”

“YES.”

“Did you already tell her that?”

“Also yes.”

The Mesmer whined, “They’re nocturnal.”

“Flashlights exist.”

I stepped away from the table, careful to bring the tablet with me. “I’m pretty sure you can come up with a workaround. You should listen to your local expert here; sounds like there’s a wealth of information ready and waiting.”

The centiperson spread many legs and looked skyward, which looked grateful to me. The Mesmer grumbled but didn’t say no.

Already halfway out the door, Mur said, “Good luck with everything!”

I echoed the sentiment and followed him with a wave. The centiperson waved back: a rolling motion along one side that looked especially jaunty. The Mesmer’s arm motion was more of an “Ah, whatever,” but I’d take it.

“So tell me more,” Mur said as we walked back to the ship. “The tiny animals on your planet land on their faces every time? How are they still alive?”

“Well, they’re too small to really get hurt by it,” I said with a shrug. “And I’ve heard it said that any predator is probably laughing too hard to eat them.”

“Yup, that’s definitely it. Your planet sounds hilarious. I’d love to visit someday.”

“You should!” I said. “It’s a great place. Though you know what other animal jumps like that? Fleas.”

“What’s fleas?”

“Oh, let me tell you about fleas.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!