#bar headed goose
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Bar-headed Goose Anser indicus
3/4/2023 San Diego Zoo Safari Park, California
#bar headed goose#goose#geese#captive animal#san diego zoo#san diego zoo safari park#zoo animals#zoo#zoo photography#bird#birds#photography#photographers on tumblr#original photography#nature photography#my photos
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#bar headed goose#barheadedgoose#barheadedgeese#tholbirdsanctuary#birdsofgujarat#birdsofindia#migratorybirds#migratorybirdsgujarat#highaltitudeflyingbirds#longdistanceflyingbirds#birds#wildlifephotography
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Here's another piece of artwork I did for the upcoming game Nature by NorthStar Games. These Bar-headed Geese are some of the world's highest fliers, able to cruise over the tops of the Himalayas!
#geese#goose#bar-headed goose#birblr#birdblr#tabletop games#board games#migration#himalayas#bird art#scientific illustration#artists on tumblr#nature game
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Feral geese in Leganés, Spain. August 2024.
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I saw 3 kinds of bird today which I haven't seen before :)
We gots spoonbills, slavonian grebes and a bar headed goose
#fuck a bar headed goose was doing there i have no idea#probably an escaped one someone owned#they don't live anywhere near here usually#but i liked it#was a pretty bird#creature seen
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Oie à Tête Barrée - Lors de sa migration, elle peut parcourir 1500km par jour. L'hémoglobine dans son sang lui permet d'extraire plus d'oxygène à chaque respiration, ce qui lui permet de voler à très haute altitude.
Lieu : Parc des Cytises
#animaux#animals#zoo#oiseau#bird#animaux sauvage#wild animals#photo#photo animalière#animals photography#oie#goose#oie à tête barrée#bar-headed goose
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The bar headed goose - one of the world's highest flying birds (Anser in...
#youtube#Goose#Geese#Duck#Bar Headed Geese#Bar -headed Goose#Highest Flying Wird#Winter Migrant To India#Nature#Wildlife#Webbed Feet#2 Black Bars on head#White Bird#White Feathers#Black Neck#Short Beak#Large wings#Mysore Zoo#Birds In Mysore Zoo#Animals In Mysore Zoo#High Flying Birds#Interesting Birds
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Bar-headed Goose Anser indicus
3/4/2023 San Diego Zoo Safari Park, California
#bar headed goose#bar-headed goose#goose#geese#I love its expression.... >:/#captive animal#san diego zoo#san diego zoo safari park#zoo animals#zoo#zoo photography#bird#birds#photography#photographers on tumblr#original photography#nature photography#my photos
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Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Bagman
warnings: none.
summary: the cute blonde pilot trying to get your number. and you’re Maverick’s daughter, btw.
a/n: hi to anyone who’s reading this, its my first post so i hope you like it. This might be the first part to a small serie about how you and hangman fall in love. Anyway, enjoy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)
masterlist || request’s are open
READER’S POV:
Being back home felt strange, like traveling back in time. I remembered how, when I was a kid, my dad and Uncle Goose would sit Bradley and me on the piano and play and sing for hours. Now, here I was, standing behind the bar helping Penny on a busy night.
The Hard Deck was packed—classic for a Friday night. The jukebox music blended with the chatter of the crowd. The place had been full of naval aviators for over an hour, most of them still in uniform, using it as a strategy to attract women. I recognized a few faces—besides Bradley’s—since I had snooped through my dad’s files on the pilots he’d be training.
“What do I have to do to get the pretty girl behind the bar to give me another round?” one of the pilots asked, leaning his elbow on the bar and placing his empty beer bottles in front of me.
“Maybe you just need to ask nicely,” I said with a smile, grabbing the bottles to swap them for fresh ones. His uniform tag read “Seresin”. He was one of my dad’s squadron members. I wouldn’t deny it—he was very attractive: blond, green eyes, and every bit the charming prince. “Here you go, handsome.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, taking the beers but staying put, leaning against the bar more comfortably. “And if I wanted your number, would I just have to ask nicely for that, too?”
“Is that the line you use on all the girls?” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You think I’m one of those guys?” he said, pretending to be offended as he took a sip of his beer, never breaking eye contact. “Ouch.”
“I know pilots. You all pretend to be charming and different from the rest,” I replied with a sigh, wiping the bar with a rag. “You think you’re irresistible and that every girl falls for you—even with a stupid mustache, like Rooster’s.”
He glanced over, laughing, and spotted Rooster playing pool with the other pilots.
“The problem is, you’ve only met Chicken. I’m way better than him,” he said, making me pause and lean on the bar in front of him. Bradley had already told me about him.
“You must be Bagman,” I said, laughing.
“Hangman, sweetheart,” he corrected instantly, winking. Okay, he was very attractive. “How do you know my callsign?”
“Oh, trust me, I know way more than you think,” I said, winking back before turning to serve some other guys who had come up to the bar for refills.
It took me about five minutes to serve everyone, and the whole time, I could feel his eyes on me as he sipped his beer, patiently waiting for me to finish.
“So, since you know who I am, maybe you could reconsider giving me your number,” he said, leaning closer from the other side of the bar.
“I don’t know. I don’t think you’re ready for it.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad walk in and head straight for the bar to take a seat.
“Hey, darlin’. You know my usual,” my dad said with a smile.
I started preparing his whiskey the way he liked it, aware that Hangman was still waiting at the bar.
“I think I’m more than ready. It’s not every day I meet a gorgeous girl like you,” Hangman said. “All I’m asking for is your number—or at least let me buy you a drink.”
I laughed, shaking my head. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for. I garnished my dad’s glass with a slice of lemon and set it in front of him.
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
“No problem, Dad,” I replied, turning to face the blond pilot with my arms crossed. He took a sip of his beer and nearly choked.
“Dad?” he asked, glancing between me and my father.
“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” my dad asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“No, sir.”, he replied, pressing his lips together.
“Then you’d better keep your fake charm away from my daughter,” my dad added.
I burst out laughing and leaned over to swap out the pilot’s beer.
“I told you, you weren’t ready for my number,” I said with a smirk before walking away to serve someone else. After saying goodnight to my dad, Hangman finally moved over to the pool table where Rooster and the others were.
“Poor guy, Dad. You scared him,” I said, approaching my father.
“I don’t care. No one’s good enough for my little girl,” he said, rubbing my arm affectionately. “Besides, if he’s really interested, he’ll have to work for it.”
The rest of the night passed quietly, picking up glasses and serving drinks until Penny told me I could clock out. Every now and then, I caught the blond pilot glancing my way, and I couldn’t deny I felt a little disappointed when he backed off after realizing my dad would be his coach. Maybe he was a jerk, like Bradley said.
After saying goodbye to Penny and my dad, I grabbed my denim jacket and stepped out of the Hard Deck. My ears welcomed the silence after the noise inside. As I walked toward the street, I heard someone coming out behind me.
“Hey, wait,” Hangman called out. “Have you reconsidered giving me your number?”
“You never quit, do you?” I laughed, crossing my arms.
“Not when it comes to the prettiest girl in the bar,” he said, mimicking my stance and stepping closer.
“You don’t even know my name—and I don’t really know yours, either, Bagman.”
“Hangman. And it’s Jake,” he said, closing the distance between us and extending his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Jake,” I said, shaking his hand. Mine was noticeably smaller than his, but they fit perfectly.
“Now that we’re properly introduced…” he started, still holding my hand.
“If you figure out my name, maybe I’ll give you my number,” I teased, pulling my hand away. “Goodnight, Jake.”
I took a few steps away and glanced back at him. He stood there, shaking his head and laughing softly, hands on his hips.
“Hope you’re free tomorrow night, sweetheart,” he called out loud enough for me to hear as I walked away.
“We’ll see, Bagman,” I replied.
__________________________________________________________
JAKE’S POV:
“Give me 200 more, Hangman,” Maverick shouted with a grin on his face, standing in front of me. This man was enjoying himself.
“What’s up with you, man?” Fanboy asked after finishing his push-ups. “Is it because of that girl last night? The one who didn’t give you her number?”
“She’s not just any girl, dude,” I replied between sets. “She’s Mav’s daughter.”
“No way,” my friend said, laughing. “Maverick’s daughter is what’s got you so distracted today?”
“Shut your mouth,” I muttered, noticing Rooster laughing at me from a distance.
By the end of the day’s training, we were all in the locker room, peeling off our flight suits. While everyone else was chatting about who should buy drinks tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not just because I didn’t get her number—though, to be honest, that didn’t happen to me often—but because she was truly stunning. I knew that the more I saw her behind the Hard Deck bar, the more she’d catch my attention.
“So, Hangman… last night you met Daddy’s little girl,” Rooster teased as he pulled on a clean T-shirt, followed by one of his ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. “Must be the first girl who didn’t fall at your feet.”
“Don’t start, Chicken,” I shot back, slamming my locker shut and leaning against it, arms crossed. “I’m sure that happens to you all the time.”
“You wish,” he said. “At least I can call her whenever I want.”
Rooster closed his locker and started walking out of the room.
“Don’t you dare, Bradshaw. I saw her first,” I said, following after him.
“God, how old are you? Eight? What is this, ‘I saw her first’?”
“Shut up, will you?” I sighed. “I can’t deny I’ve been thinking about her all day, and I don’t even know her name. But you, my friend, are going to help me.”
I threw an arm around his shoulders playfully, and he shrugged me off, pushing me away.
“So now we’re friends?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “Y/N would never go for you anyway.”
“Y/N,” I repeated, biting the inside of my cheek with a grin. “Even her name is cute.”
“She’s not going to be one of your one-night stands, got it, Bagman?” Rooster said, walking toward the exit again.
“Come on, Bradshaw, I just want to take her out to dinner,” I said, trailing after him.
“Why don’t you ask Mav for her number? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to give it to you.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Chicken. I’ll buy you a drink too if that’s what you want.”
Bradley let out a laugh, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll buy all my drinks this week, and I’ll give you her number,” he said, challenging me.
“You’re insane. I’m not paying for all your drinking this week.”
“Then I’ll call her and ask her out myself,” he said, pulling out the keys to his old Bronco and heading toward it.
Was it worth paying this idiot for Y/N’s number? Even knowing she might turn me down again—and that her dad would punish me in every damn training session? Screw it. I’d take the risk.
“Deal,” I said, catching up to him at his truck.
“What?” Rooster asked, incredulous.
“I’ll cover your tab this week, as long as you give me her number and stay out of my way, Chicken.”
The idiot just laughed, pulling out his phone and typing on it. Seconds later, I got a notification—he’d sent me her contact info.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Bagman,” he said, climbing into his truck. “And just so you know, I wasn’t planning on asking her out. She’s like a sister to me, you idiot.”
“You’re an asshole, Bradshaw,” I shouted as he drove off.
______________________________________________________
READER’S POV:
I had just gotten out of the shower when my phone started ringing. “Unknown number.”
“Hello?” I answered, putting it on speaker while wrapping myself in a towel.
“Hi, Y/N,” said a voice on the other end. It was the blonde pilot from the Hard Deck.
“How did you get my number, Bagman?”
“It’s Jake to you, sweetheart,” he said. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he had that stupid grin on his face. “So, are you finally going to let me take you to dinner?”
“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.
“Not when it comes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed and stayed quiet for a few seconds.
“Pick me up in 30 minutes. I’ll send you the address,” I said, smiling.
“At your service, ma’am..” he replied, and I hung up.
It was just dinner with Hangman. What could possibly go wrong?
#jake seresin x reader#hangman x y/n#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x you#glenn powell#top gun maverick#fanfiction#top gun fanfiction#oneshot#jake seresin#hangman x reader#top gun hangman
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It was the final hour. Doomsday at their door, with only hours left before the world was consumed entirely and every last living thing was devoured right along with it.
Summoning the High King of the Infinite Realms was the only option left, and even then felt more like choosing a firing squad rather than a noose at the end of the day. Pariah Dark might - might - accept the task of destroying the foe they faced, but tmit would come at a cost that was near equal to doing nothing at all. Provided the tyrannical ruler simply didn't let them all die, an entire planet dead was an entire planet to add to his endless armies.
They had to try. Stupid and suicidal as it was.
Zantanna and John worked in silence as they created the summoning circle, hands shaking and stomachs cramping as they worked under the apprehensive eyes of the rest of the League. They all understood that no matter what happened, they would all likely end up dead by the end of it. That the best case scenario meant that death was only the beginning of their problems.
Candles were lit. Insense burned. Blood spilled. Words spoken.
Nothing.
Nothing.
It failed, not so much as a flicker of magic. Which was impossible, they'd checked and confirmed a dozen times that they had the right ritual, that they were following the steps, they had done everything right way wasn't it working? What had they done wr-
"Ugh, gross is that blood?"
Elle Phantom, fifteen minuted late to the site of the ritual with both the boys Super, the most murderous Robin and a sugary abomination of an iced coffee from Starbucks, scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked at the summoning circle.
"This ritual is so out of date, where did you even find it? Wait is that Latin? Who tries to summon someone from the Ghost Zone in Latin?"
John had burned through every drop of alcohol and cigarette he owned hours ago while trying to find this bloody damn ritual and was very much not in the mood for the little hellspawn's color commentary on the process.
"I don't bloody well seeing you providing with any alternatives for summoning the Ghost King." He swore, turning away from the gremlin to tear through the ancient book he and Zantanna had discovered with the ritual inside.
There was a loud slurping noise as the undead hero sucked the last remnants of her drink through the straw. John's brow twitched, even Zantanna - who usually seemed endeared by the chaos goblin - looked at the end of her rope.
Then - "Oh, is that who you wanted to summon? Why didn't you say so?" She drifted over, handing her empty drink off to a disgruntled looking Batman, and began rummaging through the unused magival supplies left over from the - failed - summoning circle. "Here, give me like, five minutes."
John was fairly certain his head was about to explode.
"You know how to summon the Ghost King? You?"
Phantom rolled her eyes at him. "Duh, obviously."
"Obviously." Zantanna repeated, looking like she was half a moment away from having a breakdown. She didn't try to stop the ghostly girl, though, and to be fair neither was John. They were already fucked, might as well let the gremlin try her hand at it.
It took less than the five minutes Phantom had claimed she needed.
When she was done there was a significantly smaller circle on the ground. At the cardinal directions of the circle, written clockwise she'd drawn not any magical runes but instead what appeared to be the Roman Numerals for one, then two, then something akin to a sideways T with an additional mark rising upward from the long horizontal bar, then the letter L.
It had to have some kind of ancient magical significance John didn't know as Shazam made a noise like a dying goose and squeaked out the word Loss like it was a question. Phantom gave the Champion of Magic a sharp toothed grin before adding some words in a language John didn't know before she finally allowed gravity to pull her back to earth and plant her feet on the ground.
She wiped her hands together a bit dramatically, looking pleased with herself, but at that point John didn't care. He could feel the building magic, heavy and oppressive as she had begun her task. Unlike the circle he and Zantanna had attempted, this one was working.
He couldn't help thr nervous swallow he gave as Phantom then declared, with a strange amount of seriousness. "All that’s left are the words."
She took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, and the world went utterly silent around them. This, John could feel, this was the real deal. Fuck him sideways the hellspawn was actually doing it.
Phantom's eyes opened, glowing with that bright eerie green light of her power. Another deep breath and then -
"You are my dad! You're my dad!" He watched, any scraps of hope she'd instilled in him dying an undignified death as she gave a terrible little wiggle dance while she sang(?) Off key, "Boogie woogie woogie!"
Every last person on Earth was going to die and one of John's last moments was going to be spent watching the little undead shit do the Macarena. Well fuck him, he guessed.
Then there was the sound of the veil between the world's tearing in two and the fucking Ghost King was standing in Phantom's summoning circle screaming in a screeching falsetto:
"When will you learn? When will you learn that your actions have consequences!"
You know what actually at this point John would rather the apocalypse kill him.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#batman#justice league#danielle phantom#danielle fenton#john constantine#zantanna zatara#danny fenton#ghost king danny#Danny got to make up his own summoning rituals when he became king#there's a general one but he also has personalized rituals for each of his family members#all of them involve memes#the day is saved#but it's also the day that the Justice League find out Elle is the daughter(?) of the Ghost King#except for Damian Jon and Con#they already knew
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Who's the goose... (2)
...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?
PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3
Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!
Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)
Rating: Still stupid
Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)
Wordcount: 5k
~~~
The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.
Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.
The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.
Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.
You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.
You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.
Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.
Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.
Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.
You had started stroking him again.
“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”
“Honk!?”
“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”
“Honk!”
“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.
Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.
And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.
But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.
You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.
The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.
“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.
Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.
Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.
You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.
Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.
“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.
At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.
You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”
In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.
The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.
Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.
At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.
“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.
“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.
“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.
The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.
And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.
Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.
He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.
Was he… was he trying to fly?
The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.
Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.
“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.
Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.
“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.
So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.
At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.
Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.
The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.
The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.
Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.
The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.
Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.
You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.
The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.
And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.
The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.
You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.
He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.
The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.
“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.
The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.
You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.
He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.
“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.
The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.
“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.
You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.
After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.
He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.
The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.
“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.
“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.
“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.
“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.
“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.
“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.
A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.
“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.
“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.
The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”
Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.
“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.
You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.
You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!
When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.
You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.
You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?
You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.
Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.
Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.
On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.
It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.
Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.
Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.
Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.
The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.
The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.
Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.
“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.
The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.
He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.
Then absolute chaos broke out.
You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.
Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.
The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.
Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.
Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.
The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.
“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.
“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.
That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.
You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.
When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.
The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.
You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.
“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.
And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.
You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.
“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.
You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.
You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.
“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.
“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.
“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.
And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.
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