#but I wonder what badgers are like as pets because in the wild they are super aggro but then other mustelids and similar evolutionary lines

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Also: "Badgers are sometimes kept as pets.[52][53] Keeping a badger as a pet or offering one for sale is an offence in the United Kingdom under the 1992 Protection of Badgers Act.[54]" ~wikipedia

But given there are badgers called "stink badgers" I am assuming some of them can spray, or just smell very bad, I'm going to keep looking.

[sardinesandhumbugs]

If you're still doing the musical writing prompts, could you do 45, maybe with Mole?

Of course I can! 45 was “Home. I've heard heard the word before, but it never meant much more than just a thing I've never had” from a Very Potter Sequel. Sorry for the long delay, nonny, but hopefully it was worth the wait! It certainly turned out longer than expected.

x

"The important thing about having lots of things to remember is that you’ve got to go somewhere afterwards where you can remember them, you see? You’ve got to stop. You haven’t really been anywhere until you’ve got back home."

The Light Fantastic, Terry Pratchett

x

If someone had asked Mole what home was before that fateful spring morn, his answer would have been easy.

Home was the cosy, still air of beneath-ground. It was the door jamb that stuck and the window that leaked. It was the carols that alighted his porch each winter, the smell of jams being prepared in the autumn, and the dust that made him sneeze every spring cleaning. It was found in solid things that marked the passage of time as surely as clockwork in the sunless tunnels. (Clockwork marked the hours, and seasons marked the year, and everything else between was of little consequence.)

Several months on, and his answer is no longer so sure.

The first hint – at least, the first hint he takes notice of – that it is no longer the clear-cut divide of holiday verses home comes in the fright of the Wild Wood, so far from either.

(If he had been taking notice, he perhaps would have seen the spare glasses that now live at Ratty's riverside residence, the household chores that are shared without comment, or the divide in the larder that Ratty has made for Mole's more species-specific snacks. But he hasn't been taking notice, and such things have passed him by in the comfort of a new normality.)

So Mole is far from home (either, both) when Ratty finds him. They are both scared and shaken, but there is no doubt in Ratty's voice with the question, "Wouldn't you rather just go home?" as if home couldn't be anywhere but the river. Maybe (probably) for Ratty it's true (he had certainly once proclaimed it to be his food, his drink, his company – his world) but for Mole, the word is an altogether more complicated affair.

In that moment, however, he longs for the sunlit riverbank.

It is only later, when they settle into the familiar underground air of Badger's sett, that Mole remembers Mole End at all. It lasts only briefly – they have so many other issues at hand, namely that of the disastrous Toad – but it is enough to give him pause. It leaves him stranded between betrayal and mutiny. Betrayal, for his hasty abandonment of his home, and mutiny as he realises he does not want to give up his newfound riverbank life.

But when it comes to it, it doesn't really matter – not in Badger's sett, nor in his brief yuletide return to Mole End – because in the end, at Mole End, he looks to Ratty and knows that he'll follow wherever his friend goes.

(The feeling, though Mole does not realise it at the time, is mutual. Although in Ratty's case, the stubborn loyalty had made itself known months ago, back when he chose the open road over his river – if only for a passing season. Even so, he has never had cause to doubt (not even on the open road, not really) that his river might not be enough to tempt even the most stalwart undergrounder to linger a while longer – but Ratty looks to his friend, surrounded by his titular home, and realises Mole is as much of the earth as he is of the river and that one day it may reclaim him.)

x

It is the week following Toad's grand party that life eventually settles back to the point that Mole can finally turn his mind to more homeward bound matters. For as life has calmed – as adventures and escapes and daring retakings have made way for the more mundane reality of day-to-day living – he realises another spring is on its way out, a year has passed, and he is in danger of becoming rooted to the riverbank. There is the scent of summer on the horizon, thick and heady, and a strange sensation he hesitates to call homesickness lingers in him. It whispers of dirt and earth and it makes his claws itch until he can stand it no longer and he knows – he knows he must return.

He attempts to casually bring up the subject as they clear away dinner.

"I'm thinking," he says, "of returning to Mole End." Ratty's step falters, if only for a moment. "Just for a few days," Mole adds. "I thought I might get some of that spring cleaning done that I never finished from last year."

"We'll make a trip of it then," Ratty suggests brightly, and if Mole knew him just a little less well, he might believe the forced cheer – but he does know him that well and he reads past the façade. "I've never picnicked underground before, but there's a first for everything–"

"Just me, I think," Mole interrupts. "It's just a little tidy up; there's no reason to drag both of us there."

"Oh." Ratty falters again. There's some unease at the sure exclusion, but there's a trace of relief too; underground is still a discomfort to the riverbank-born animal although, if Mole is being brutally honest with himself, his reason for returning alone is more to do with his own needs than Ratty's.

He is not brutally honest. At least not this time. But he suspects Ratty has him figured all the same, for he lingers by the door, watching as Mole packs up a few choice belongings to accompany him to Mole End. Ratty's stance is nonchalant, but the way he talks of their plans after Mole's return feels like he is eking out a promise he isn't sure Mole will keep.

Mole senses enough of this to hold his tongue when it comes to the strange homesickness that has stolen over him. He has learnt enough of his friend to know the comment, however innocuous, however true his intent to return to the riverbank, will do little to help. And it will recede, if only he can ground himself in the underground existence that has served him well all the years previous – but for that, he must go alone. Ratty would bring with him the reminder of the sunny shore above, of rivers and boats that turned his head in the first place.

And the strange homesickness does settle back in Mole End – momentarily. Beneath the ground, the muggy summer loses its grip and the air is steady, constant. It is a refuge from the humidity that stifles Mole – Mole, who has never considered claustrophobia, but when the air grows heavy and airless in the sway of summer, it is all he can do to retreat to north-facing rooms and wait out the heat. But in the bowels of the earth, the seasons are muted and he sleeps sounder for it.

He oversleeps. He assures himself that it is the comfort of a long-familiar bed, but part of him wonders if he has grown too accustomed to the wake-up call of the morning chorus and the sunrise – if he is not so much an undergrounder as he was a year ago.

His underground instincts sated, he turns his attention to more practical considerations. The door jamb that sticks and the window that leaks is all well and good through the lens of nostalgia, but it is quite another kettle of fish when it comes to tending to them. And as he adds yet another chore to the list (a home neglected, he realises, continues to decay with, or perhaps because of, its owner's absence) Mole End seems to shift from cosy to tired. He knows it not to be as grand as Toad Hall, nor as chronicled in history as Badger's sett, and certainly not as comfortably ship-shape as Ratty's place, but the reality settles in about him as he stands, frozen, with the chore list in paw.

What Mole End is, is dark and dim and shabby.

And, worst of all, that homesickness has returned.

He is an underground animal – or was, once upon a time. Now he is not so sure, for while his burrow calls, so does the bright sun-filled air above... and he doesn't think there is a word for an animal that holds both worlds in their soul.

Home. this place is home, he tells himself, but the definition has shifted, expanded, grown in his year's absence, and he doesn't know what to do with that.

His reverie is broken by a knocking at his door, and he finds his porch crowded by four very familiar animals. Mole gapes for a moment until Toad bounces in.

"So this is Mole End, eh? Naturally, it's not as grand as Toad Hall but then, of course, what is?"

"Toad, be civil," Badger warns.

Mole squeezes out of the way as the large mammal enters. "It's only a small home," he says, apologetic. "I'm afraid it's going to be a little snug with everyone here–"

"Don't you worry about that, pet," Mrs Otter assures as she follows after the others. "Snug is my home with the pups on a regular day."

Mole turns to the last animal yet to enter. Ratty stands at the threshold, hesitant as if wary of a boundary overstepped. "I know you said you wanted to attend to this alone," Ratty says – he shifts the trusty luncheon basket between his paws – "but it's been three days and, well" – a wan smile – "I've seen your attempts at spring cleaning. I figured you might appreciate the help if you were still at it."

"So you brought Toad along?"

Mole's humour seems to mollify Ratty's nerves, for the water rat's smile turns rueful. "Toad brought himself along."

Mole leans in with a conspiring whisper. "Do you think he even knows what a broom is?"

There is an almighty sneeze from Badger as Toad unsettles a layer of dust from the kitchen cupboards.

Ratty grins. "Do you?" The humour, however, is as quick to go as it was to arrive, and as he watches the other animals descend upon Mole End he glances back to his usual housemate with unease. "Of course, if you'd rather we left you to it, naturally we can–"

Mole commandeers the basket. "Stay." He doesn't mean it to sound such like an order, but for all his previous bluster, he suddenly doesn't want the newcomers to leave. For despite the extra shadows they cast, Mole End somehow feels brighter than before in a manner not quite tangible. "And, just between you and me," he adds as he ushers his friend inside, "I hadn't got that far with the cleaning."

There's another sneeze from Badger that sets the lanterns swinging, and a fresh falling of dust scatters down from above.

Another grin from Ratty. "You don't say?"

Badger wastes no time in assessing the undertaking ahead. He settles back into that same role as in the retaking of Toad Hall, distributing the chores with little fuss, and quietly Mole is glad for it, because the task of Mole End has become overwhelming in the past few days.

Regardless of the nature of the housework, it is humour, not tedium, that springs up. And at some point in this collective effort – between the idle conversations and the laughter and the "Where's the duster – I swear I left it here just a moment ago" – Mole End sheds its overcrowded air. Nothing palpable changes, for the occupants continue to fall over one another and Badger still has to duck his head through doorways, but somewhere in the midst of all this it has become cosy, not cramped.

Somewhere in that space, that strange homesickness has quelled.

Mole realises this midway through restoring the peeling wallpaper back to its proper place, teetering on a stepladder while Ratty applies paste to the paper's underside. He falters in his task to take note – to truly take note – of his friends. To listen to the bustle of Mrs Otter as she strips the beds, and the jabbering of Toad as he regales her with some loosely-related story. (Mole believes it is his experiences from the open road; a period in which Toad categorically did not take to the chores like a duck to water, whatever he is emphatically telling Mrs Otter.) Further off, there is something that sounds suspiciously like humming, coming from Badger as he inspects the tunnels for natural wear-and-tear, partnered with his sure steps and the tap of his cane.

Mole lingers too long in thought, and his balance flounders. Ratty catches the ladder before it can tip and his laughter is both familiar and new as it bounces across the earthen walls in an echoing reprise.

Home. this place is home, Mole realises, and the definition has shifted, expanded, grown in his year's absence.

And he's okay with that.

[signs-of-the-moon]

Moon Rise: Chapter 42

Warning: this chapter features minor mentions of an illness that may be considered similar to Covid-19, and could potentially upset those effected by it. Reader discretion is advised (this is the last time this message will appear)

With the guidance of Ruby, Swiftcloud and her patrol made their way through the Twolegplace. They weaved inbetween the rows and rows of dens, avoiding sleeping monsters and Twolegs playing out in the snow. Anxiety prickled Swiftcloud's pelt the further on they ventured. She fretted that this mission might be a failure. If the plants in the meadow had all died off, why wouldn't the ones in Twolegplace do the same?

Eventually Ruby slowed her pace, pausing in front of a particularly large Twoleg's den. Within the backyard was a smaller see-through den. It appeared to be entirely made out of windows, glass was what the material was called, Swiftcloud recollected.

"Look!" Mistyleaf pointed at the structure with her tail, excitement radiating from her pelt. "There's plants in there. Look how lush and green they are!"

"That place is called a Green House," Ruby informed the clan cats. "Housefolk use them to grow plants and herbs year round. I believe you'll find what you'll need in there."

"But how are we going to get inside to look?" Rabbitstorm questioned. He sounded doubtful that they'd be able to do so at all. Ruby simply tilted her head, prompting the other cats to follow. The five other cats followed the large molly over the fence, landing in the fresh snow on the other side.

"We will ask for a favor," Ruby explained at last. The clan patrol exchanged confused looks. "Wait here, I'll be right back." With a dash, Ruby cleared halfway across the yard in a single bound. She galloped, stopping in front of the Twoleg den. She let out a mighty yowl, summoning some attention from inside. Immediately Swiftcloud panicked.

"Hide!" Chicorynose commanded the patrol, ducking into a bush by the edge of the fence. Her clanmates did the same, although Max waited just outside. Through the shrubbery, Swiftcloud could see a Twoleg emerging from the den. From behind it, two kittypets strolled into view, happy as could be. Once its pets were outside, the the creature turned and lumbered back into its lair, the door swinging shut behind it. When she was sure the coast was clear, Swiftcloud took the first brave steps out from hiding and towards the strangers.

The kittypets appeared well groomed, with wet pink noses and bright eyes. Their fur was glossy, and their bodies plump. So different from the looks she was used to cats having. As she passed by the Green House, Swiftcloud caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass. She resisted the urge to wince at the sight. In comparison to the kittypets, she looked terrible. I look...I look like a wild cat, she realized. Now she understood why house cats typically shyed away from strays. Especially those from the clans. To a peaceful kittypet she must look dangerous with her thin frame, tired eyes, and battle scars.

When Swiftcloud finally came to a stop beside Ruby, one of the kittypets began backing away. His brown and white pelt bristled, his fat belly dragged against the snowy ground. He seemed scared, annoyed even. The other kittypet, however, remained calm. The molly's thick tail was high in the air, her focus fixed on Swiftcloud. She was curious. Swiftcloud was curious about her as well. The she-cat had brown and white fur with rich dark swirling stripes. Thick framed and chubby, the she-cat looked to be in perfect health. Her face was broad with chubby cheeks, her ears round. And her eyes glowed yellow in the sunlight, filled with kindness. Around her neck was a green collar, with pebbles lining it that twinkled like stars. For a heartbeat, Swiftcloud wondered if the kittypet was a show cat. Or a cat who was "bred" to produce them.

"Hey there, Ruby," the molly spoke at last. "You called?"

"I did," Ruby agreed, lowering her head so she was at a more equal level with her friend. "I have some cats here who need some help."

"Oh yeah?" The kittypet promted, shifting her focus from Ruby back onto Swiftcloud. "What can I do for you?"

Swiftcloud blinked, turning around for a moment. She waved a paw, motioning for her clanmates to come stand beside her. Apprehensively, the rest of her patrol emerged from hiding, padding over to stand with Swiftcloud.

"Aw hell, not more of em," griped the kittypet tom with ears flattening.

"Pipe down, Louie, they're not going to hurt us," the molly hissed at her denmate before giving her attention back to the clan cats. "Are you?"

"Not if you cooperate," Rabbitstorm grumbled with a tail flick. Mistyleaf gave him a disapproving shove.

"You have our word, no clan cat will bring either of you harm," Chicorynose promised after fixing Rabbitstorm with a glare.

The kittypet molly smiled "See?"

"Just get em to tell you what they want so they can go," the fat tom griped. The molly rolled her eyes.

"My apologies for my mate. Fat Louie doesn't really like strangers. Or, well, anyone for that matter. Sometimes not even me," she giggled although there was a twinge of sadness in her voice, "Anyways. Ruby says you're looking for a favor?"

"Yes," Mistyleaf stepped up. "We desperately need an herb for our clan. Many are sick, and some have even died. Obtaining these leaves will save many lives."

"We'd like to ask if you'd be kind enough to let us into your Green House to look for catnip. We see that you have many plants in there. And Ruby says you may have what we're looking for," Swiftcloud added with Mistyleaf nodding along agreeingly. Imminently, Fat Louie jumped to his paws.

"Ooh no," he growled, marching forward. "We are not letting a bunch of flea-ridden strays into our housefolk's garden den! We don't know if we can trust them, Tabitha. And even if we can, why would we? They're wild cats. They eat kits and kill each other for sport. Why should we give a sniff if the whole lot of them die?"

"Hey!" Rabbitstorm snapped, muscles bunching. Chicorynose and Mistyleaf flanked him on both sides, preventing him from bursting forward.

"You misunderstand our way of life," Swiftcloud decided to try reasoning with the kittypets. After all, she used to be one too. Surely it couldn't be hard to convince them that the clan cats weren't so bad. "We care very deeply for our clanmates. Clan cats do everything for one another, to ensure we all survive. We fight, hunt, and care for every cat in our ranks. From the smallest kit, to the most decrepit elder. Coming here to ask for help proves that. We go to great lengths to save our friends, our family, our home."

"And why should we listen to you?" Fat Louie snorted.

"Because I used to be just like you two."

"Ignorant?" Tabitha joked.

"No." Swiftcloud shook her head. "I used to be a house cat. Almost a year ago now."

Tabitha gasped, her pupils growing wide. "Really? And you've survived this long? That's pretty cool."

Swiftcloud smiled. She was glad to see at least one of the kittypets was warming up to her and her clanmates a little. "It is. And I never would've survived this long without my clan. Throughout the moons, Grassclan has taught me and suppoted me with everything. They'd do anything for me. And I'd give everything for them. It was Mistyleaf and I's idea to come to Twolegplace today, to look for the herbs we need to cure our sick. That has to account for something. Please don't let us leave empty pawed."

Tabitha's eyes watered a little. She turned to Fat Louie before turning back to the clan patrol. "Ok, you've convinced me. I'll let you into our Green House."

"Like hell you will!" Fat Louie spat, grabbing Tabitha by the collar. With a mighty tug he dragged her backwards, effectively choking her. The tabby and white molly gagged, paws scraping against the icy ground. Her toes spread for her claws to unsheathe and ground her, but nothing slid out from the slits in her paws. Helplessly Tabitha was pulled across the yard like prey. Swiftcloud's muscles buncued as she readied herself to spring to the kittypet's aid. She couldn't stand by and watch this abuse.

"Let go of her!" Rabbitstorm shot forward suddenly, leaping onto Fat Louie's back. The fat brown and white kittypet collapsed under the other tom's weight, yet still refused to let Tabitha go. Despite appearing out of shape, Louie turned out to be quite strong. And as persistent as a badger. No matter how passively Rabbitstorm tried to get hin to let go of Tabitha's collar, the spoiled tom refused. And so, Rabbitstorm was left resorting to violence. After giving his muzzle a scratch, Rabbitstorm was finally able to free the kittypet she-cat. Fat Louie jumped back, nose scrunched up with pain. Mistyleaf ran to Tabitha, herding her a fox-length away so she could be examined.

"Breathe deep," the medicine cat instructed as the other molly let out a few small coughs. She touched her nose to Tabitha's neck, looking for signs of tearing on the skin.

"What's wrong with you? Don't you know how to treat a she-cat?" Rabbitstorm snarled. Fat Louie grumbled under his breath, touching a white paw to his bleeding snout. He gave it a lick, trying to clear the liquid away. Fat Louie then waddled off to sulk, waiting for his Twoleg to let him inside through the door he came from. Rabbitstorm snorted with distaste, turning to Mistyleaf and Tabitha.

"Are you alright?" He asked the kittypet, voice surprisingly gentle. He nosed her, giving the molly a look over himself. Tabitha blinked, a small smile appearing on her face.

"I'm just a little winded," she responded.

"She'll be fine," Mistyleaf assured.

"Is this the first time he's done something like this?" Rabbitstorm asked seriously.

Tabitha's smile faultered, her expression revealing the truth about her treatment. "It's alright." she blinked away her sadness, "He loves me. I know he does. Louie doesn't do things like that to cause harm..its because he cares. He was trying to protect me from all of you."

"Clearly it's not us you need protection from. You deserve to be treated with kindness. I'd never sit around and let like that happen to any cat. Especially my own mate."

"Well, thank you for the concern. You're...you're very kind." Tabitha ducked her head shyly.

Rabbitstorm purred a very tiny purr. It made Swiftcloud's heart feel light. It was the first time Rabbitstorm had acted like himself since Heatherwing's death. And with a kittypet no less? How things have changed!

"Come with me," Tabitha stood up, shaking snow from her pelt. "I'll let you into the Green House."

"Even after all that?" Chicorynose prompted, raising a brow. Tabitha gave a firm nod.

"I don't care what Louie wants right now. You cats need help. And I'm going to let you take as much of the catnip as you need."

The clan patrol exchanged excited trills, eagerness prickling among them.

"But," Tabitha interrupted. "I'm only going to do this on one condition."

"And what's that?" Chicorynose asked. Tabitha turned to Swiftcloud.

"I'm very curious about the life you've led. I'd like to hear your story."

Swiftcloud blinked, pelt growing hot. She didn't expect the spotlight to suddenly be shifted onto her. But if telling her tale could help save the clan, then she'd say anything to get into that Green House.

With a nod, Swiftcloud began. "Over a year ago, I was born as a kittypet -a house cat. I was raised to become a show cat, like my mother and father, and eventually my littermates. But I wasn't cut out for that life. At almost three moons old I was given to a new housefolk, to live a normal house cat's life. But even then I wasn't satisfied. I began to dream of freedom, of a place that would give me that which I desired. At six moons I listened to those dreams and wandered to the meadow. There, I fought a wild cat- a tom that would eventually become my mate. And afterwards, I met his clanmates, and his leader. They told me all about the life of a clan cat, and I eventually settled on the idea of joining them. So, I changed my name, abandoned my collar and home, and left to live in Grassclan. I trained very hard for several moons, and fought in a few battles. And finally, I was named a warrior. I was named Swiftcloud, and finally found who I truly am."

"What was your name before?" Tabitha asked with intrigue. Swiftcloud glanced at each of her clanmates. She'd never told any clan cat her birth name before. When she'd joined them, she had changed it to the one she had been called in her dreams.

"I was born Hana. Then I became Swift. Now I am Swiftcloud, Hunter and Spy of Grassclan."

Tabitha let out a trill, her eyes sparkling. "Such an interesting life. What a fun character you are. Alright, a promise is a promise. Follow me I've kept you all waiting long enough."

Mistyleaf sighed with relief. Chicorynose purred with excitement. And Rabbitstorm moved to stand at Tabitha's side.

"Lead the way," he requested, earning a giggle from the molly. Tabitha padded through the snow, creating a path for the other cats to follow. For a heartbeat, she paused by the Green House's door. Her perfectly white paws disappeared under the snow, her body crouched and her rear wiggling. Max corralled the clan cats back, giving the other kittypet space to work. Swiftcloud observed Tabitha as she eventually pried open the door, just enough so that she could squeeze through. She slipped inside the den, waiting on the other side for the others to follow. Mistyleaf went in first, followed by Swiftcloud, Rabbitstorm, Chicorynose, Max, and finally Ruby.

Single file, the group padded through the glass den. The air in there was hot, humid; a major difference from the atmosphere outside. All around them were plants of all sizes and vibrancies. Exotic plants and familiar alike decorated the space, creating a powerful almost forest-like fragrance. Most of the cats got the oppurtunity to gawk about the sight. Mistyleaf, however, retained her sharp focus. Her jaws were parted slightly to taste the air for the herb she needed. Her delicate nose twitched as she seemed to catch onto the trail.

"This way," she mewed, taking the lead. Swiftcloud pulled ahead to walk with her, keeping an eye out for the herbs. Near the back of the den, in a special patch, was an abundance of catmint. The smell emanating from them was enough to make a cat's mouth water. Mistyleaf trilled out happily, delicately leaping into the center of the herb patch.

"This'll be enough to treat every cat in Grassclan!" Swiftcloud cheered.

"Twice over," Mistyleaf agreed. She carefully snatched up a few catnip stems, carrying them out of the patch with her. "How much are we allowed to take?"

"As much as you want. My housefolks grow this stuff for Louie and I to use to relax. I hadn't realized it could be used to cure sickness, too."

"Only greencough," Mistyleaf elaborated. "Would we be allowed to come collect more at a future time? The amount we take today will be an excellent start towards a path of recovery. But a lot of the sick are in critical condition. They'll need many doses of catmint to be cured."

Tabitha beamed. "Yes. In fact, I insist you come back for more! I'd be sad if I never got to see you all again. This will be a great excuse for you to come and visit."

Mistyleaf purred gratefully. She instructed each of her clanmates to tip-toe into the herb patch to pick as many stems as they could carry. When the patrol was packed heavy with herbs, the cats made their way back to the front of the den. Before exiting though, Mistyleaf paused once more. Her nose twitched, green eyes twinkling.

"Tabitha, would it be alright if I collected some of that lavander over there as well? It will help to rid the stench of illness from our dens, and to treat fevers," she mewed after putting down her herbs.

"Oh sure," Tabitha agreed. "Whatever you need, it's yours. They're only plants, after all, they'll grow back." Mistyleaf once again let out a grateful purr. She padded over and picked a few of the flower stems, adding them to her bundle of catmint. She tied it all together with a stray vine from one of the other plants surrounding them before picking up her herbs again. Mission completed, the cats made their way back out into the cold. The frigide air outside of the Green House felt more bitter when the cats emerged into the open again. They'd adjusted to the Greeleaf warm climate, and hardly minded the humidity. Now the moisture has turned to ice particles on their fur.

Swiftcloud rested her herbs by her paws. She gave her pelt a shake and began to tremble a little. "We'd better hurry home before we all catch a chill."

Chicorynose let out an agreeing grunt. She dipped her head respectfully to the kittypet. "Thank you for everything, Tabitha. Grassclan will be forever grateful for this. If you should ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Tabitha purred loudly, brushing her side against Chicorynose's in a friendly manner. "Farewell new clan friends. I'll see you again soon!" She bumped her head against Rabbitstorm's gently, looking into his eyes for a heartbeat.

"We look forward to our next visit. May the winds be with you." Mistyleaf touched her nose to Tabitha's.

"And-...what do you clan cats say in response to that?" The curious kittypet asked.

"We say 'And may Starclan light your path.' We like to bless each other with the guidance of our warrior ancestors," explained Swiftcloud.

Tabthia nodded along enthusiastically. "I see. Well then, may Starclan light your path!"

The Grassclan patrol let out a collective mrrow of amusement. After each cat touched noses with Tabitha one last time, Ruby took the lead, guiding the warriors back to Max's house. After one last farewell to Max and Ruby, Swiftcloud led the patrol the rest of the way back to the Land's Star; eager to bring something good news to the clan.

[renaroo]

The Jean Grey School for Wayward Wolverines

Disclaimer: Wolverine and associated characters are the creative property of Marvel Comics Warnings: Canon-typical violence & language Rating: T Synopsis: Gabby is left at the Jean Grey school while Laura works with the Avengers on a mission she can’t be a part of, but of course Gabby is never one to let things end that simply.

A/N: I have no idea what brought this on other than a year of missing my girls and wanting the legacy of Wolverine to mean... well.... a legacy again but hey. At least we’ve got 50 X-books again and so far none of them have met my Kinney quota of 2

It was too warm for January and the limbs of the trees all seemed to bristle and grow brittle in response to the simple, inalienable fact. And because it was too warm for January, the argument seemed to be that it was too warm for knit sweaters and earmuffs.

This was obviously just an excuse and nowhere near reality because Laura accepted no such excuses from Gabby. Not that Gabby had a problem with wearing matching earmuffs with her sweater and winter coat combo, or with an excuse for wearing the extra fun leggings and boots that really tied her skirt and mittens all together.

But, supposedly, Jonathan was not going to be comfortable in a sweater.

“He’s not a Laura, Laura, he’s a Gabby!” Gabby argued vehemently. She then raised the Jonathan sized winter cap she had finished as a point. “And he’s going to look so cute!”

“He’s not a Laura or a Gabby because he’s a Jonathan. And Jonathans are wolverines with a very heavy winter coat right now,” Laura argued, crossing her arms with Jonathan’s sweater in hand. “If you make him too hot, he’ll get cranky on his walk and try to pull it off again. And if he does, he’ll get out of his harness. Again. Then we have a problem with the park rangers.” She paused ominously before ending with another, “Again.”

Gabby stubbornly sat on the floor, Jonathan seated in her lap and raised up her arms almost reflexively. “Is that what we’ve come to in the Kinney household now? Risking our precious Jonathan catching a cold out of fear of the authorities! What a joke. I’m gonna call Wade.”

“You can’t call Wade,” Laura said, rolling her eyes. “It would be a losing point for you anyway.”

“You’re no fun,” Gabby groaned, falling back onto the apartment floor dramatically. She showed a lot of restraint by not moving as Jonathan — adorably — crawled onto her stomach and worriedly pawed at her chest. “We should run free out into the wild, Jonathan. Leave behind this stuffy city life.”

“Wolverines don’t wear clothes in the wild,” Laura argued, already putting away Jonathan’s cute sweater in the pet drawer.

Gabby wrinkled her nose at Laura. “Maybe you should live in the wild then,” she shot back.

“Did,” Laura answered without even looking her way. Because of course she had. “Naked. In the snow. Was kind of boring.”

“What, did you just run around naked for a while then?” Gabby asked, squinting. “Why?”

“It’s a… Wolverine thing,” Laura failed at explaining, straightening up and looking down at Gabby with mild amusement.

“That’s why I’m a Honey Badger,” Gabby said, a fond smile growing on her lips.

“Sure is,” Laura agreed. “You ready for our walk yet?”

“Yup!” Gabby sheered, sitting bolt straight so fast that Jonathan rolled down to her lap in surprise. “Even if Jonathan has to be naked.”

“He does,” Laura says.

In a few short, swift moves, Gabby is on her feet and clicking on Jonathan’s harness. Their daily routine is almost ready to proceed when there is a knock on the door.

Out of reflex, Laura and Gabby both unleash their claws in an echo of SNIKTS — because they should have been able to smell someone coming toward their apartment. Neither of them had.

When the knocks continue, Laura suspiciously nears the door and glances through the peephole.

Gabby was reflexively tense, watching her sister, but she relaxed when she saw Laura recall her claws and straighten up in preparation for opening the door.

“Who is it?” Gabby asked out of curiosity, putting away her claw as well.

“Vision,” Laura answered before opening the door.

“Le gasp!” Gabby called out, putting her hands on her cheeks. “Like Vision from the Avengers? So cool! Unless we did something. Did we do something?”

The door opened and Laura had been telling the truth — there he was, the one and only Vision of the Avengers. Which, of course, no wonder they hadn’t smelled him. He was a robot. A robot who could walk through walls.

Which, Gabby supposed, made it a sign of manners and restraint that he knocked on the door. So that was nice.

“As far as the Avengers is aware, there is no reason to come after you, Gabrielle Kinney,” Vision answered her with an ominous look.

“Okay, cool,” Gabby grinned. “Hi, by the way. I have your daughter’s poster! Hope that’s not weird. I bet it is. I’ll shut up now. I’m being a gay disaster.”

Vision raised one of the ridges over his eyes before glancing toward Laura. “Wolverine, the Avengers requires you.”

“Where to and how long?” Laura asked, neglecting all the questions that Gabby would be asking.

But, then, that was a difference between a Gabby and a Laura.

“Am I interrupting anything important?” Vision asked.

“Uh, yeah, evening walk, duh,” Gabby countered, waving to the obvious setup.

“I apologize for interrupting family activities. I, too, have come to understand their importance above all else,” Vision assured them. “However, this mission for Wolverine—“

“And Honey Badger,” Gabby corrected.

“No, not this time,” Laura turned and began walking toward Gabby.

“What? How do you know? What…” Gabby stopped short and watched Laura with vague scrutiny as her sister got down on one knee in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder. Gabby gasped. “You… knew you were going on a super cool, super-secret Avengers mission! And you didn’t tell your own team?”

“I promised to be quiet about it,” she told Gabby without breaking her stare. “I am sorry. It’s not one we do together.”

“But how do you know that you won’t get into the thick of it and need me for a surprise K-O or to provide you with the perfect ending pun?” Gabby fretted.

“Not that kind of mission,” Laura assured her again, squeezing Gabby’s shoulder. She then glanced slightly back toward the Vision. “How long?”

“You will need some arrangements,” Vision answered magnanimously.

“Already made,” Laura said, getting to her feet. “Gabby, grab your go bags.”

Perking up, Gabby ran immediately to her room, abandoning a confused Jonathan, and immediately began grabbing her overnight bags — pre-packed — and then grabbed a few Avengers-themed items to possibly be signed. Then she ran back to the room. “Ready!” she called out excitedly.

“Good,” Laura said, already in uniform like a champ. She looked to the Vision. “The Jean Grey School is on the way.”

Gabby blinked a few times and then uttered, “Wait. What.”

They were quiet on the drive. Which, of course, was more unusual for one of them than for the other.

Gabby sat in the passenger seat, feet on the seat as her knees tucked in under her chin. The familiar sights of New York were passing by the window and Jonathan was snugly secured in the backseat along with the eponymous Kinney Family statue and Gabby’s go bags.

Laura was driving at her usual efficient speed, but her attention was not fully on the road. Gabby could tell by the way Laura looked her way every few moments.

“You’re upset,” Laura surmised, biting on her lip.

“Uh, duh, comes to mind,” Gabby countered with a curl to her nose. “You’re keeping stuff from me! I had no idea anything was going on with the Avengers!”

“I didn’t tell you, that’s why you didn’t know,” Laura stated, like the fact alone was somehow an answer.

“But that’s the problem! You should have told me something!” Gabby growled angrily. “We’re partners!”

“We are,” Laura agreed before pointing Gabby’s way. “But this is not something for our team. It is my other team and me.”

It felt like Gabby’s chest was being ripped in half with adamantium. “When the Avengers asked to have Wolverine on the team, you said we were honored. That’s what you said to them, Laura! You said that we were on the team. We’re supposed to be a two-package deal.”

“I said that. I said that you were with me,” Laura agreed, but her tone was unrelenting. “But that is my decision. I am responsible for you. I know when to involve you and when to tell you where else to go.”

“It’s because of the Guardians of the Galaxy and the Brood thing, isn’t it?” Gabby demanded. “You don’t trust me anymore, but you should. Because I beat the Brood when no one else ever has! Why does me getting in trouble always count, but me winning never does? How is that fair?”

Laura glared at Gabby over her sunglasses, but Gabby refused to fall back in line. Not this time.

Shaking her head, Laura looked back to the road. “It isn’t about the Brood and it isn’t about mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Then tell me about the Avengers thing,” Gabby begged, desperate. “There has to be a reason you’re doing this!”

“That reason is why you can’t know about it, too,” Laura snapped. “It isn’t simple, Gabby. It’s complicated and it’s… it’s dangerous for you to know.”

“How could it be dangerous for me to know something?” Gabby began to argue. She had a whole speech lined up, about ageism and teamwork and a dozen other angles pointing out how unjust the situation was.

But Laura wasn’t letting her get to any of them.

“Gabby,” Laura said, probably exasperated if the jut of her jaw was something to go by, “When I was your age, I didn’t have anyone looking out for me. I didn’t have anyone… advocating for me. And even when I got older, people had purposes for me more than they had an interest in doing what was best for my future. Even the people who cared about me. I saw and did things I wasn’t ready for. I knew and was expected to know things that still linger with me. Even today.” Her gaze shifted to Gabby heavily. “I didn’t know how to feel human for a long time. I didn’t know how to act my age for a long time. I didn’t know how to feel like my tomorrow counted for a long time. And because I’m older now, I realize that all those things are connected. That things people let or make you do now can stay with you and erase your personhood even for today.”

Quiet and sheepish, Gabby lowered her feet to the car floor mat. “Is the Avengers thing one of those things?”

“Yes,” Laura answered lowly.

“Then why?” Gabby preened. “Why do it at all?”

“Someone has to, so everyone else doesn’t,” Laura said strongly. “I have to so you don’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Gabby argued. “If you did these things when you were my age, I can do them now!”

“Then I will fail you,” Laura hissed, almost like the thought had wounded her. “Then everything will have been for nothing.”

Gabby lowered her face, frustrated. “It’s not bad for me to be like you, Laura. The only thing I’ve ever wanted to be is to be like you.”

“I know,” Laura said solemnly. “The only thing I have ever wanted, period, is for you to be better.”

The car ride was deafening from that point on.

The moment they pulled into the gated driveway of the Jean Grey School, Gabby could feel the uncomfortable prickliness of being watched.

She was slow to fully disengage from the car and begin the far worse and more painful act of taking her things out of the car and into the building. This must have been obvious since Laura immediately got out, opened the back door, and slung all of Gabby’s things out of the seat and onto her shoulders.

“I can carry my stuff,” Gabby whined, finally unhooking her seatbelt. “I was gonna get it all just…”

“It’s fine,” Laura contested, holding up a hand to stop Gabby from jumping across the seats in a vain attempt to take one of the bags. “Just get Jonathan.”

Jonathan did not need a second push. He leaped from the car and found the first good grassy spot on his radar to hike a leg.

Unfortunately, the grass did not seem to care for that action.

With a hideous roar, the earth and grass and roots lifted and cracked apart from each other, forming a fanged mouth to snap at Jonathan.

Like a good Wolverine, Jonathan was fast to evade and came barreling back toward the car.

“HEY!” Laura and Gabby snarled together, echoing SNKTS reigning out in response.

“Ladies! Krakoa!” a thundering voice called from above.

Gabby looked up and was instantly mesmerized by the sheer power radiating from Storm as her eyes glowed and sparked with lightning and the winds of all four seasons bellowed around her. She was probably the most majestic thing that Gabby had seen in her young life. It was terrifying and amazing all at once.

“Nice,” Gabby got out of her system.

“I apologize for the misunderstanding,” Storm said as her feet graced the pavement beside the Kinney sisters. “After showing Gabrielle around, I will show you where your pet can happily excuse himself.”

“He’s a wolverine, he can kinda decide that himself,” Gabby was quick to retort as her claws slipped back into place.

“While I am sure that is true in most situations, I am afraid we have a special relationship with the grounds,” Storm explained patiently. Her smile was fabulous, but the sweetness was turning Gabby’s stomach bitter.

It probably would have been easier to dunk on literally any other X-Men who would come to greet her.

“I already know around,” Gabby argued. “If I’m going to be entombed here, can’t we just go ahead and do it without a tour?”

“You don’t know where to let Jonathan out to,” Laura huffed. She sounded more irritated than she usually did with Gabby. Maybe it was the car ride. Maybe it was the attitude Gabby was giving off.

“Maybe it’s Maybelline,” Gabby couldn’t help but mutter to herself.

By the time Gabby glanced up, she could only see Laura’s discontent. It was a look that Laura wore masterfully.  Oh, boy were they going to have a talk by the end of whatever the Avengers thing was.

“I understand that you are upset, Gabrielle,” Storm said gently, squaring herself with Gabby to address her directly. “And no doubt uncomfortable considering you have not lived here with us before. But we are family, and this was once your sister’s permanent home. And it always may be again. Just as it will always be a home for you.”

“Like when my sister leaves me to go play with the Avengers on a super cool, super-secret mission?” Gabby asked critically.

Storm’s patient smile continued its presence. “I am afraid that sounds like a rather… uncharitable take on your sister’s situation,” Storm chided. “We can discuss it later. For now, I would much rather you get to know the other students who you will be rooming with while you are here.”

Gabby searched her mind for a proper response, but she was distracted as she noticed Laura haughtily carting off Gabby’s things in one of the directions of a dormitory. “Laura!” Gabby whined, clamoring to catch up with her sister.

“I don’t know why you’re making this so difficult, Gabby,” Laura grunted as she pushed open a dorm door with the heel of her foot. “No one planned for things to happen this way. Sometimes they just do.”

“Maybe I come from a family that seems really good at breaking the rules when it seems to suit literally everybody else but themselves,” she grumbled in return.

Laura glanced over her shoulder, utterly ignoring the colorfully diverse set of young mutants peering their melodrama around the dorm halls. “What would you do on this dangerous mission you know nothing about, Gabby?”

“Anything to watch my sister’s back,” Gabby answered without a moment’s hesitation. “Because no one else has ever done it for her before. And she doesn’t know how important it is. Because she’s stubborn. Like a goat. A goat-verine. A woof-oat.”

Without losing her direct eye contact with Gabby, Laura turned knowingly in the hall and nudged open a specific door to a suite.

“How do you know where they’re jailing me?” Gabby demanded. “Are you just that awesome, Laura?”

“I asked,” Laura said, setting Gabby’s things down. “It was mine.”

Curious, Gabby entered the room, glancing around suspiciously. There was a large bay window, some plain but beautiful oak furniture including a dresser and vanity. Two closets, a small kitchenette that matched with a Mr. Coffee that was identical to the one in their apartment. A bathroom was also attached to the suite right next to the mini couch and television. Two desks to work at. It was a fairly useful space, all things considering.

“I don’t believe it,” Gabby announced. “Where’s a punching bag? I refuse to believe you lived here without a workout station. You’re cheapening out on me—“

Gabby didn’t have time to get much further because Laura was already pulling her into a full embrace. Laura’s muscular arms were holding tight to the back of Gabby’s head and in the small of her back, just holding her against Laura’s body with a strength that didn’t want to let go.

Silently, Gabby reached up and hugged her sister back the best she could with the awkward angle.

They stood that way for a while, hugging and quiet.

It was a Wolverine kind of thing.

“I’ll come back the second the mission is done,” Laura finally promised. “We’ll get takeout. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I don’t know if that’ll fully cure my wounded pride,” Gabby said sardonically.

“You’ll get over it,” Laura promised. “You’re a Wolverine.”

“I’m a Honey Badger,” Gabby smirked, closing her eyes as she buried herself in her sister’s warm embrace one last time. “But yeah. I guess you’re right.”

They stayed that way for a while. It didn’t seem like either of them were actually ready for the actual separating part of their situation.

But the time did come.

And Gabby watched her sister -- her only family -- leave the grounds of the Jean Grey School without her. 

Gabby would have had an easier time adjusting to living in a nunnery.

Two days after being left at the Jean Grey School, Gabby was faced with her very first Monday in the facility. She had had a terrible time attempting to sleep the night before — Jonathan needed bathroom breaks, and the AC didn’t run loudly like it did in the apartment, and there was the sound of people talking down the hall about homework and power development, and Gabby dreamed of Avengers turning to her with heavy expressions and neatly putting a hand on her shoulder to say how sorry they were —

By the time the alarm clock on her bedside read 9:00 AM, Gabby could finally close her eyes and bury herself beneath layers of blankets.

That was until a stern knocking came from her door.

For a few knocks, Gabby ignored it. Then, when the winds came through her open window and began to mess with her lock, she figured the time for simple ignorance had passed.

“Hold on! I can open my own door!” she yelled over the winds.

Sitting up in her bed, Gabby sighed, shook her lion’s mane of hair as loose as she could, then kicked her legs out from the duvet. Her body ached slightly before she went through the exaggerated routine of popping each bone in her back.

The wind had stopped attempting to pick her lock, but they still pelted her as she walked by the window. Pushing her toward the door.

At last, she kicked on her fuzzy matching slippers and shuffled her way to the door. Sniffing, she picked up the scent of her visitor rather quickly. Not that she needed the confirmation to know it was Headmaster Munroe seeking her out.

Gabby finally opened the door, blinking away the brightness of the hallway lights as he did so.

Before her stood Storm. She wasn’t in her uniform, but her sense of fashion could still kill. High platform heels, dress pants, and simple colorful blouse, with an accent necklace that Gabby couldn’t have imagined pulling off in her wildest dreams. She was magnificent looking.

And she was staring down rather imposingly to Gabby in her matching Champions pajamas ensemble.

“Hello,” Gabby greeted groggily.

“Gabrielle,” Storm said curtly. “It seems you are not planning on attending the classes on your schedule.”

“Not really,” Gabby admitted readily.

A hum came from Storm as she glanced at the room behind Gabby.

When Storm’s gaze shifted back to Gabby, it was strong enough to make the young Honey Badger squirm in her fluffy slippers. “I believe it would be important for you to get dressed and meet me in my office as soon as possible.”

“I could show up like this,” Gabby answered without hesitation.

“If that is how you think you should,” Storm said archly, her brows raising slightly at the prospect.

Giving it even a moment’s more thought had Gabby hesitating. It’s time to get a bit serious, Bub, she told herself with a heavy sigh.

“Okay, Ms. Munroe, I’ll be right there,” she promised, heading back into the depths of her room.

It was strange being in trouble with someone other than Laura. With someone with authority other than Laura.

Strangely, as she rummaged through her unpacked bags for a new shirt and jeans to wear, Gabby couldn’t help her own growing grin.

She kind of liked the trouble thing. Maybe it suited her.

One problem that was undeniable about Gabby’s routine was that it did not spare a lot of time for vamping. Throwing on a novelty tee or sweatshirt, an endless supply of leggings, and some dorky shoes she was ready to go. The less time the better. Normally.

Avoiding a serious discussion with the headmaster of a school for superpowered teens did not, exactly, fit into the routine of normally, unfortunately.

Instead, Gabby found herself on the other side of Storm’s desk far too quickly for her liking.

Storm sat on the other side of the desk, hands folded together just beneath her chin, and leaned toward Gabby with the full attention of her very captivating eyes. “You seem to be resisting forming a routine with us,” Storm noted.

“I’m not really one for routines, it’s not anything personal,” Gabby answered quickly.

A small smile crept its way onto Storm’s face. “You seem to have a routine with your pet Jonathan that is well attended to,” she argued lightly.

Gabby took the point into consideration and looked at Storm seriously instead. “I feel like there’s a difference between pet routines and putting people with thoughts and dreams and futures on a schedule,” she argues. “I mean, maybe that’s what schools gotta do with regular teenagers, but I’m not really a regular teenager! It’s not gonna work with me!”

Before Gabby had even gotten through her words, Storm’s carefully composed figure lowered her hands to the desk and threw her head back to laugh, truly and deeply.

“What? What’d I do?” Gabby demanded, her heart racing.

“My apologies,” Storm chuckled. “That is, by far, the most normal teenager argument you’ve given so far. I believe it has been used by your fellow students in this office at least three dozen times. Only since I became the headmaster.”

Defensively, Gabby’s nose curled and she leaned into the back of her chair. “No, that can’t be right… Look, it doesn’t matter if that’s what the other kids have said before, for me it’s true! I mean… I’m a Wolverine! In the making. I’m a Honey Badger now, but, like, just look at this family history! You wouldn’t make Logan go through these kinds of things.”

“Logan was not involved with the school until well after he had already reached adulthood,” Storm informed her. “However, even then, had I been headmaster, I probably would have demanded some classes in the early days.”

Gabby raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Like?”

“Manners,” Storm answered flatly.

Despite herself, Gabby snorted and felt her traitorous mouth perk up in the corners. “Yeah. Probably.” She glanced slightly off, a thought passing her by. “I mean, just from what Laura’s told me and all.” She looked to Storm finally, looking for any hint of judgment in her eyes. For the moment, there didn’t seem to be any. “I never really met him, y’know.”

In Storm’s eyes was a sadness that Gabby had not fully seen before. The older woman leaned back, taking in a deep breath. “Yes. I know.”

“But I know all about Laura,” Gabby continued, feeling her shoulders fall back and her chest puffs up with pride. “I know everything about Laura. Everything she’ll let me. AND! Some things I know that she wouldn’t let me. That’s just how well I know Laura.”

For a moment, Storm allowed them to sit in the gravity of Gabby’s comments.

Then, ever so slowly, she raised from her seat and walked gracefully around her desk. “Did Laura ever tell you that I was her teacher while she was here?” she asked as she came to sit at the chair beside Gabby.

Gabby raised an eyebrow at her. “No, not really,” she said before shaking her head. “No, wait, that’s not true! Laura’s talked about taking classes here, and I know you’re the headmaster now and used to teach. So, I knew that. I just… didn’t think about it that much. But I totally knew that!”

“But it wasn’t said directly,” Storm pressed.

“Some things don’t have to be,” Gabby countered.

“Maybe they still should be, though,” Storm continued. “Gabrielle, I want you to be happy while you are here, and I also want you to receive something from this stay that you simply could not otherwise. I want you to grow, develop, become.”

Slowly, almost as if the question was being dragged out of her throat, Gabby leaned in closer to Storm and asked, “Become what?”

“Become who you are meant to be,” Storm assured her.

“Well, I’m meant to be a Wolverine, obviously,” Gabby said, pushing her back into her chair. “And all the Wolverines before me didn’t stay behind at school and do all this growing and developing and becoming while other people were putting their butts on the line.” Gabby turned her gaze sharply on Storm. “Not even Laura when she was a student. When she was your student. She still had to do the Wolverine stuff that she doesn’t want me around now. So. I should be doing that, and you let Laura do that once already, and if you really want me to become a Wolverine-like I’m supposed to be, then you should let me do it, too.”

Finished with her long-winded speech, Gabby found herself looking in the eyes of a far less receptive Storm than what she started with.

Storm had uncrossed her legs and had both feet planted firmly on the floor. Her hands were gripping the edges of her armrests with the nails digging in. But the look on Storm’s face was one that surprised Gabby most of all.

It looked as if the older woman was in grief rather than inconsolable anger like Gabby had been anticipating.

Silence draped over the room as they sat and stared at each other.

And Gabby never did do well with silence.

“Uh, Ms. Munroe?” she asked cautiously. “I’m kinda new at this defiance thing so maybe I’m just not tough enough yet to the silent treatment… but you kind of seem upset? And I deal with that a lot less well than I deal with the whole anger thing. So it’d be great if you could give me a clue as to which way I should be leaning here.”

“Child,” Storm sighed, at last, putting one hand to her face. She was hiding behind her fingers, almost in shame.

It was Gabby’s turn to be taken aback.

“I cannot… begin to explain to you the regret I have in my bones…” she drew in a deep breath. “How much I ache at night, recalling how much I failed as an adult, a teacher, a guardian — how I was one of the many in this institution who failed to protect your sister in all the ways that she deserved to be from the moment she was in our care, to every second that followed.”

Gabby looked at Storm, confused and conflicted. “Laura doesn’t think you failed her,” Gabby argued. “She says that sometimes Wolverines have gotta do the jobs that no one else can, so no one else has to. And—“

“Let me assure you, Gabrielle,” Storm said solemnly, “any child which feels that burden while remaining in our care… any child which feels obligated to make such choices when I am around to provide them support and protection… Those are my failures. I, and every other caretaker here, have failed your sister. We cannot go back and correct it, but we can do our best for Laura now.”

The conversation was heavy. It was heavier than anything Gabby had felt before and she began to squirm in its discomfort.

“How can you make it up to Laura?” Gabby asked genuinely. “I mean she’s awesome and perfect and I don’t know why you’d want her to be any different… but even if you did want her to, I don’t know, maybe talk to her sister more, how could you do that now?”

Slowly sliding her hand from her defeated face down to her lab, Storm’s expression seemed to return to the picture of serene. Her gaze shifted back to Gabby and a soft smile built on her lips. “Through you, Gabrielle.”

Lost again, Gabby tilted her head. “Huh?”

“We cannot fix the mistakes of our past, but we can do better for today and tomorrow,” Storm continued. “Laura wants the most exceptional, safe, and loved life for you that she never had for herself. And she wants it because she loves you with the sense of protection others should have always looked out for her with. You are not like the other students, you still have seen and done things some students your age here could not imagine. And you will likely see more than them, too. But your safety and your choices will never be taken from you the way they have been for Logan and Laura, and so many others your family call Wolverines.”

Gabby frowned and squirmed. “Sounds like responsibility.”

“It should sound more like… opportunity,” Storm assured her. “You will not be at this school indefinitely, not in the way many other young mutants may need to be. After a time, should you and your sister so choose, you will return with her to your apartment and continue your lives.”

“Thank applesauce,” Gabby groaned, melting into her seat. Catching herself, she blinked and straightened up. “Uh, no offense, of course.”

Storm was smiling. “While you are here, Gabrielle, try to take the opportunity to choose opportunities others haven’t had.”

“Okay,” Gabby sighed in agreement. “I will.”

It was the end of her Thursday classes, two weeks after arriving at the Jean Grey School, that Gabby couldn’t even open her eyelids. She drags her feet against the carpeted floors of the dormitory and easily opened her room door with a moan.

“Jonathan, let’s go outside, boy—“ she began to say before sniffing.

In an instant, Gabby’s nostrils filled with an all-too-familiar scent.

Her eyes snapped open and Gabby gasped as she looked across her room to the edge of her bed.

Laura sat, Jonathan gingerly tucked into her arms, petting the wolverine’s tummy fur in that way only Laura and Gabby could. She then looked up and smirked at Gabby.

“Welcome back, Honey Badger,” Laura said, putting Jonathan to the side. She rose to her feet to stand.

Gabby didn’t give her the chance.

The younger sister launched herself across the room and tackled Laura’s waist in a vice-like hug. “Laura! Oh my gosh! You’re back! It’s been so long!”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that,” Laura said, quick to return the hug. “Means I’ve got lots to tell you over takeout, though.”

With a large grin, Gabby looked up at her sister. “Really!? Was it awesome? Was it scary? Was it lonely? Was it—“ Once her racing thoughts finally caught up to her, Gabby withdrew slightly, glancing away in thought. She then once more met her sister’s gaze. “I can’t wait to get home! But… I’ve got some friends here to say bye to first. I mean. I’m ready to go home! I’m not even unpacked! But… do you think… if we’ve got time…?”

Laura grew that one-sided smirk she always got when amused with Gabby. She planted a hand on Gabby’s head and rustled her hair. “Of course we do,” Laura answered. “Go on, say what you need to to your friends. I’ll get Jonathan and your stuff.”

Gabby let out a sigh of relief and let go of Laura. She was halfway out the door when Laura called to her.

“Gabby,” Laura said, hands on her hips. There was an easy softness to her gaze when Gabby looked to her. “I’m really proud of you, Wolverine.”

For a moment, Gabby could only blink in bewilderment. Then, slowly, the context caught up with her. She grinned back. “Thanks, Sis,” she said. “You too.”

[areiton]

anywhere with you

For @verdantmoth who asked for tragic happy and Idk if this fits, but here, darling. It’s a little over 3k so, AO3 if you prefer. 

~*~

“I've been to Titan but I've never been anywhere else,” Peter confesses one night when tears have taken the place of whiskey.

“He promised to show me the world,” he says, and it’s not--it’s not quite asking for something.

It’s not not asking either.

“I’ve been everywhere,” Bucky says, and there’s a hint of Winter in his voice that makes Peter’s head roll to look at him. “But I don’t think I’ve seen anything.”

~*~

They’re bound together, now.

Not necessity, really--there were other people, for both of them, people who understood better what each was going through.

But they found each other, often enough, at the memorial, that it became easy, falling into each other’s space.

And Winter watched him, when Peter tripped too close to dangerous, when the grief loomed large and inescapable, tugged him back, into the cool metal embrace.

They never talk about it--about why Winter watches him or why Peter trips along the edges of buildings or the endless nights sitting silent next to a silent stone.

There’s no real need.

~*~

They died.

And they came back and Peter thinks--it’s not fair. Because he didn’t want to come back without Tony.

“Sometimes I wish they hadn’t succeeded,” he murmurs, and Bucky looks down at him, his eyes bright and sad and knowing.

“Me too, kid.”

~*~

“We could go,” Bucky says one day. It’s the end of a bad day, the end of a bad week, and he feels wrung out, scraped raw, the ghosts that haunt them clinging too tight, and Peter is still, for the first time, in his arms.

He wonders if it’s exhaustion or the skunky smoke billowing through the apartment.

“Where?” Peter asks. Where can we go that we won’t see them?

“Anywhere. Everywhere. See the whole world.”

Peter is quiet, long enough Bucky thinks he’s dismissed it. And then, soft and shy. “Yeah. I think--yeah.”

~*~

They take three weeks to get things at home in order, and then Peter arrives at Bucky’s door, and Winter frowns at him, at the too light bag on his back and the gauntness of his frame, and sighs. “Feed you first. Then we’ll go.”

~*~

It sets the tone. Winter frets over him, feeds him every time they stop--they drive the length of the eastern seaboard, stopping in tiny tourist towns that Peter finds fascinating and reminds Bucky of his life before the war. They avoid big cities and their memories and memorials, and Peter traces the arc reactor in the ice on the window, one morning, but aside from that, they don’t talk about it.

They don’t talk about much, Bucky realizes.

~*~

Peter cries, sometimes. It makes something in Bucky ache, hearing his near silent sobs. They stop on a stretch of highway between towns, and he sits on the beach and Bucky can almost believe the salty drops sliding down his face is sea spray and not tears.

“Do you miss him?” he asks and Bucky doesn’t know how to answer.

Yes, so much it hurts, so much sometimes he can’t breath.

No. Steve has been gone for so much longer than he can say, since before Titan, since before Hydra and that goddamn train.

“Yeah,” he says, and it’s soft. A quiet admission.

Peter looks at him. “Did you love him?”

Bucky doesn’t answer, and Winter doesn’t answer, and the wind sweeps over them, and washes the questions away.

~*~

He does miss Steve.

But he also knows it’s different. It’s not the bone deep ache, the kind that wakes Peter in the night screaming, the kind that makes him dance on the edge of roofs, daring the wind to snatch him away and Winter to let it.

He misses Steve because he loved Steve, will always love him, in his own life altering way.

But Peter--every day, he spends with Peter, and every day, he thinks--this could be my true north.

~*~

Peter wakes up screaming three times in Florida, screaming and sobbing, begging Winter to let him go, begging for Tony, scratching at his skin and metal, until he slumped, exhausted and limp, in Bucky’s arms and cried himself back to sleep.

For the first time, Winter wonders if he should let him go.

~*~

They get on a plane, after that, leave behind the states and the inadvertant memories of what they lost. Peter sleeps against Winter’s shoulder, soft and insistent, and it coaxes something in him to loosen, to relax. His arm slips around the sleeping spider, holds him close, and his heartbeat pounds too loud in his throat, but he closes his eyes and thinks maybe they’re going to be ok.

Maybe, somewhere else, they can be ok.

~*~

Peter is quiet in Paris. He wanders the streets, presses too close and pulls away too far, and it’s confusing and expected. They go to the Louvre and Bucky trembles as Peter leans into him, pointy chin hooked over his shoulder.

They go to the Eiffel Tower and Peter blinks away tears.

They stay in a shitty hostel, and Peter crawls into his bunk and Bucky slips into his, and if he cries, the boy doesn’t mention it, the next morning. He just sits close and leans his head on Bucky’s metal shoulder as they sip their hot chocolate and watch pigeons.

Later, when they’ve walked so far that even Peter’s tireless energy has begun to flag, Bucky buys flaky croissants and sharp cheese and they sit on the curb of the street, sharing it, and Bucky tells him about the first time he came to Paris, during the war.

Peter listens, and their ghosts feel very far away.

~*~

They spend a day holed up in a hotel in London. Peter teaches him how to play poker. Bucky teaches him how to play with knives. He goes out once, and comes back with beer, thick and cheap and bitter on Peter's tongue, but it's easier to sleep, when he drinks.

"Tony used to drink too much," he says, once, when his eyes are drifting closed and the beer is gone. Bucky pets his hair back, and he thinks that should be strange, but it's not.

They go to the West End and Piccadilly Square and Peter drags Bucky on a red, double decker bus, riding it across London Bridge and past Big Ben.

"I could climb that," he says, lazily and Bucky laughs, something he feels against his back and he smiles.

They eat in a tiny pub that's tucked between a bookstore and a tailor. Bucky sneaks Peter his beer and Peter licks his salty fingers, and eats his way through two plate fulls of fish and chips, until his belly is full and his mind is fuzzy and he thinks maybe when he sleeps this time, he won't dream.

"Do you dream of them?" he asks, once, when they're collapsed in their separate beds.

"Yes," Winter murmurs and Peter blinks, bites back his shiver.

~*~

Stonehenge is deserted in the rain, and Peter thinks, Bucky standing in the rain and stone circle, hair clinging to his face and water sliding down his metal arm, looks like an ancient and pagan god.

Winter looks at him, his eyes bright in the gloom, and Peter smiles at him.

They go north, follow the road til it ends in the sea, and Peter sits there.

"Why do you like the water?" Winter asks, settled behind him and Peter leans back into his warmth.

"I don't know. I think--it reminds me of him? It's wild. Cold, but soothing too."

Winter doesn't respond to that.

"Can we go to the highlands, next?" Peter asks and Winter nods.

"Anywhere you want."

~*~

Sometimes, Peter will stop and he'll look at Bucky. It always startles him when it happens, because he can never tell when it will. But Peter will stop and he'll stare, his gaze piercing and intense, and sometimes--sometimes that's all, he looks away and turns the conversation and they move on, and he dismisses it as stray thoughts and things they don't talk about.

But sometimes, Peter will look at him and a smile will curl at the corner of his lips, shy and not quite there, but the hint of something that Bucky wants to chase, wants to tease out.

He wants to see something other than sadness and guilt in Peter's eyes, wants to see something other than lines on his face.

He wants to see Peter smile, and more than that--he wants to be the reason Peter smiles. It's terrifying and the day he realizes it--they're still in Scotland, in the Highlands, Peter loves it, the endless green mountains and rocky cliffs and the little hamlets they spend their nights in, with squinty eyed suspicious locals and food so good he doesn't even have to badger Peter into eating, he does it all on his own--he bolts away, spends almost twenty four hours gone, not quite lost, but hidden away enough that Peter can't find him, and he watches his boy.

He only comes back when he sees Peter curled in his bed, crying, and only because guilt is eating at his stomach, and he let's Peter curl against him, hand fisted in Bucky's shirt and trembling.

"You can't leave me," he whispers. "Not like--"

Not like Tony. Not like Steve.

"I won't," he promises.

~*~

Peter seems to shake the melancholy when they reach Copenhagen. It lingers in his eyes, but there’s excitement too, and his hand, gripping Bucky’s, is eager and tight, tugging him behind as they weave through the crowds. They see the Little Mermaid and Rosenborg Castle.  Bucky holds him in a loose embrace, and Peter lets him, leans back into the embrace like this is normal for them.

He lead Peter through the market at Strøget, buys them piles of hot meatballs, sticky bread, a little bowl of pate and crispy crackers. Peter wrinkles his nose at that, but he licks his fingers clean, after, his pink tongue chasing the taste of it, and Bucky has to swallow hard and look away, biting into the last of their frikadeller before he crumples the trash together and tosses it aside.

“Where to next?”

The grin Peter gives him is bright and wicked.

~*~

Amsterdam is trouble.

Winter hates it, but Peter--Peter comes to life under the neon lights and cobbled streets. They go to a club, and he dances there, with Winter’s gaze heavy on him, a pale writhing, beautiful thing.

Other people watch him too. One is handsy, his grip on Peter loose and low on his hips and it burns, hot ugly jealous, in Winter’s throat, watching Peter smile at him, watching them grind together.

But he hears, the low dirty voice, and higher, clearer, Peter’s.

He hears no .

Winter moves fast, faster than he realized, crossing the distance and jerking the guy away from Peter. He gets a quick glimpse of Peter, the shock and disgust, the bruised wet lips, and then he’s hitting the bastard, the man who dared touch what isn’t his, and he can hear people screaming, but he can only hear Peter, his voice high and outraged, and saying no.

“Bucky,” Peter shouts, catching his fist. The guy is slumped, bloody and broken at his feet, and Peter is trembling and close, close, close--

“Come on,” he hisses, and drags him out of the club.

~*~

They stumble into their hotel, and Peter trembles, and Bucky doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline or the fury, but he’s trembling and there are tears in his eyes that haven’t quite fallen.

He reaches for the joint, lights it and offers it up to his boy--his boy, when did Peter become his-- and when he doesn’t immediately take it, Bucky sighs.

He drags Peter onto the bed, situates him so they’re close, knees pressed together, and draws on the joint, letting the smoke fill him up, before tugging Peter close, close, almost close enough.

He wants to close that tiny distance, wants to cover up that stolen kiss with something softer and gentle and wanted.

Peter doesn’t want him.

Peter wants a ghost, and Bucky wants Steve, and they are nothing more than companions forced together by life and loss.

He opens his mouth and offers up the pungent smoke like a lifeline and Peter leans into it, sighs and takes the gift.

~*~

Bucky watches him.

Winter watches, but Bucky--Bucky watches him and it’s different.

It’s heavier.

It feel warm and waiting, like if Peter will just turn into that gaze, there will be... something... waiting for him.

He sees the fury on Winter’s face in the club, and the hunger on Bucky’s in their hotel, and he knows it’s dangerous, tilting toward him in the narrow bed, and letting smoke cloud his head.

He licks his lips and Bucky makes a noise, low and indistinct, and Peter.

Peter smiles.

~*~

He has nightmares in Berlin, and Peter shakes him awake, sits next to him on the couch, pressed together shoulder to thigh. They don’t talk. Sometimes, he thinks, they don’t talk because they understand each other far too well to need words.

Peter sits there, until the sun rises and creeps into their room and says, “Come on. Let’s find somewhere happier.”

~*~

They go to Greenland.

This time, they avoid the major cities, go to a tiny cabin in the middle of a field of ice, a place Bucky knows. He doesn’t say, but Peter thinks it must be a safehouse Hydra used. It’s dusty and dark, but it’s warm and dry, and Peter collapses into the big bed, a puff of dust coming from the sheets. Bucky busies himself with their bags, and he smiles, faint but happy, when he sees Peter, snoring softly.

They stay for a week. Peter spends half of it sleeping, and joins Buck on his long walks through the cold snow. They take a brief trip to Scorsby Sound, and watch whales and icefloes and Peter’s cheeks go pink and windburnt and beautiful.

“I like it here,” he says.

“I used to come here, after missions. Before I got pulled back in. It was empty. I liked it, the quiet.”

Peter looks at him and Bucky flushes under those heavy eyes, until Peter smiles, and catches his fingers, squeezing delicately.

The fourth night in Greenland, they spend under the stars, and Peter says, “I miss them, sometimes.”

“What was it like?” Bucky asks, softly. Carefully.

“Big,” Peter says. “I remember how small I felt, like I was going to get lost in the vastness of it.”

He doesn’t say, Tony wouldn’t let me.

He doesn’t say, I did get lost.

“I’m glad you came home,” Bucky says, hoarse, and Peter turns away from the stars, away from the shimmering Northern Lights to smile at him, bright and clear.

~*~

There is only one bed, and Peter thinks it should be stranger than it is. But falling into bed next to Bucky, curling into his warmth and listening to the soft beat of his heart under his ear--it’s not strange.

It’s natural and right, and he wakes from a nap, and stares at Bucky, at his stubble and the hair falling over his face, the lines that have eased around his eyes, and he thinks--he would keep this, if he could.

He thinks it’s the first thing he’s wanted to keep since Tony died.

~*~

Peter refuses to go some places. Italy and Malta. They skip over both and land in Greece for trips through the Parthenon, and long mornings on beaches in Crete and bottles of ouzo. They eat olives soaked in spices and oils, pita bread stuffed with lamb and greens, until Peter lazes against Bucky’s shoulder and Winter doesn’t worry about how skinny he is.

They skip Africa and Mexico--too many bad memories, Bucky says--and wander through the Amazon for a few weeks. Peter still refuses to touch his suit, but for a few days, Peter swings through the trees, high above Bucky’s head, and it feels nothing like New York, nothing like Titan, nothing like life with Tony--and maybe that is why he can do this.

They spend a few days in Rio, and a week in Chile, and Peter dangles his legs from the edge of an Ande mountain and almost gives Winter a heart attack before he smiles, and they move on.

He notices the laughter there, echoing off mountains that scrape the sky, and he notices Peter’s slumped, tensionless shoulders in India, when he pets an elephant, and thinks--

There haven’t been nightmares in weeks.

Maybe.

Maybe.

He holds his breath and he hopes.

~*~

New Zealand reminds Peter, a little, of Scotland. It’s endless ancient beauty, the vibrant green, the aliveness of it all.

“It almost feels like it never happened, here,” he whispers, and Winter doesn’t ask what he means, just hugs him a little bit closer.

He leans into it, and it doesn’t ache, not like it used to.

~*~

He has seen Peter in a thousand places, it feels like, has watched him under moonlight and sunshine, in rain and snow, under bright lights and shadow, in streets and cities and wilds, all around the world.

He thinks, sometimes, he has gotten used to looking at him.

And then Peter spills onto a beach in Australian, board shorts indecently low on his hips, a smile wild and wide and aimed right at Bucky, and it takes his breath away, all over again.

“Come snorkel with me,” Peter coaxes, and he does, follows, helpless to do anything else with this boy.

~*~

“Where next?” Peter asks, one day. They’re in Thailand, and Bucky rolls his head to look at his boy, lazy and content next to him in the heat. The sea shimmers beyond their stilted hut, and Peter looks--

Happy.

He looks happy.

“Anywhere,” he says, and Peter peeks at him.

“I’d go anywhere with you,” he says, honestly.

~*~

He’s seen the world, through a veil of tears and grief peeled back slowly, and when it was--when the agony gave way to relentless beauty of the world, bright and living around him, he saw the world , exotic and beautiful and laid at his feet.

He saw Bucky, patient and worried, Winter, quiet and waiting. Always, always, watching him.

~*~

Peter kisses him carefully, and it tastes like seaspray and sand, like the mango and coconut curry he woke Peter with, and Bucky’s hands close over his hips, hold him steady, drag him closer,  rocks them together as Peter kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.

~*~

“Where next?” Peter asks, later. He’s naked and Bucky is mouthing at his hip, absentmindedly. Bruises are fading on his hips, and come is smeared on his belly and Winter flexes his fingers, just to feel Peter shudder and push back against them.

Too tired, he decides, to do anything. But the little whine Peter makes when he rubs his thumb over Peter’s swollen rim is delicious.

“Wherever you want, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Not doll.

Not baby.

Not anything they might have used.

But Peter smiles at him, shudders as he spreads his fingers and closes his eyes. Maybe not too tired.

“Alaska,” he huffs a moment before Winter kisses him, a moment before he slides deep, and the word twists into a groan.

He can see it now--Peter in the snow and sunlight, cheeks stained red and naked in front of a fire.

Bucky smiles. “Anywhere, sweetheart.”

[chuckling-chemist]

That Comprehensive Lusus Post: Mammals

The Quick Rundown:

Total Mammals: 1210 (30.25% of all lusii -- so 30%)

What I expected to see lots of (and did): Dogs and cats. Oh my God, dogs and cats. But dogs have a lot of variation, and cats are cute. So I expected this.

What I didn’t expected to see lots of (and didn’t): Whales/dolphins (cetacea). While there’s lots of variation like a dog (at least in whales), there’s only a few castes that most would give a whale or dolphin lusus to. Overall, there were 23 in the cetacea category, which is ~2% of all mammals and 0.5% of all lusii.

What I expected to see lots of (and didn’t):  Mongooses, Red and Giant Pandas and Okapis. There actually weren’t any Okapis, and while I didn’t expect many, I expected enough that I made a giraffidae category instead of just throwing Giraffes under other. The lack of pandas and mongooses legitimately caught me off guard. Mongooses/Red Pandas make up 0.33% of all mammals. Giant Pandas make up 0.5% of all mammals.

What I didn’t expect to see lots of (and did): I’m actually surprised how common sheep (sheep/ram) and cattle (cows/bulls/ox) in particular came up. I would have imagined canon Homestuck having both a ram and a fairy-bull would have discouraged more people, as I know a lot of those critique blogs would criticize someone for happening to use a lusus used in canon.

What I wish I saw more of: Okapis. 

Alright, nothing too fancy with mammals, now to start breaking this stuff down

(larger version of the pie chart here)

CANINES

Final Counts

Dogs: 96

Foxes: 58

Wolves: 41

Maned Wolf: 10

Jackal: 10

Coyote: 5

Dingo: 3

Dhole: 1

Top 5 Dogs

Dog (nondescript) = 18

German Shepherd/Chihuahua = 6

Bulldog = 5

Pomeranian/Samoyed = 4

Rottweiler/Corgi/Weiner Dog = 3

Top 3 Foxes

Fox (nondescript) = 30

Fennec Fox = 10

Red Fox = 7

Other canine notes

While wolves have a high count, most wolves were nondescript. The next highest were dire wolves, with 6.  All other wolves were no higher than a count of 2

There were a huge amount of variability among dogs. If someone wants to see the whole list, please message me.

Maned wolves acquired their own category by being neither fox nor wolf

FELINES

Big Cat: 64

Wild Cat: 59

House Cat/Nondescript Cat: 51

Top 3 Big Cats

Lion = 19

Tiger = 17

Sabertooth Tiger = 7

Top 3 Wild Cats

Mountain Lion = 20

Cheetah = 11

Lynx = 10

Other Feline Notes

Much like the high wolf count vs. low variability, the lack of top count for house cats is due to most being generic house cats, or only having a count of 1 for the specification

My favorite house cat was the person who had Schrodinger's Cat for a lusus.

BOVIDAE (cattle, sheep, goats, etc., very much a lot of your farm animals)

Sheep: 39

Cattle: 31

Goat: 26

Antelope: 11

Buffalo: 4

Bison: 3

Yak: 3

Bovidae Notes

If anyone would like to see the breakdowns of any bovidae, please message me. The only really interesting breakdown I found (i.e: at least 3 notably larger categories than the rest) I found were cattle, and there weren’t much more than 3 specifics anyway, and it’s hard to make a top 3 out of...3 -- btw, this applies to any of these that I don’t include a Top 3 of, since most of these were largely nondescript or limited to 1 or 2 per grouping.

RODENT

Rat: 29

Mouse: 16

Chinchilla: 9

Porcupine: 9

Squirrel: 8

Beaver: 4 

Chipmunk: 3

Guinea Pig: 2

Hamster: 1

Jeroba: 1

Vole: 1

Patagonian Mara: 1

DEER

Deer: 43

Reindeer: 6

Dik dik: 4

Elk: 4

Moose: 3

MUSTELIDAE (Weasels, badgers, wolverines, etc., your trickster noodles)

Otter: 15

Badger: 13

Weasel: 12

Polecat: 11

Wolverine: 6

Marten: 5

Mink: 1

LAGOMORPH: (Rabbits and hares)

Rabbit: 48

Hare: 6

MARSUPIAL

Opossum: 10

Kangaroo: 7

Possum: 4

Tasmanian Devil: 4

Koala: 4

Tasmanian Tiger: 3

Wombat: 3

Numbat: 1

Wallaby: 1

EQUINES

Horse: 28

Donkey: 3

Mule: 3

Pony: 2

Zebra: 1

Quagga: 1

Equine Notes:

Most horses were nondescript, so I didn’t do a top count. If you’re curious, almost all specifications were draft horses. Namely: clydesdales. 

Both ponies were shetland ponies

It’s funny to me that there was only 1 zebra in all 4000 lusii, considering Hiveswap/Friendsim features Zebruh Coddak, who has a zebra lusus.

PRIMATE

Monkey: 21

Ape: 8

Lorisid: 2

Top 3 Monkeys

Ring Tailed Lemur = 4

Capuchin Monkey/Monkey (Nondescript) = 3

Chimpanzee/Spider Monkey/Macaques = 2

Primate Notes

Monkeys were the first count where a nondescript monkey is lower than a specific species, while there are multiple species (so not including something like the lorisids, where it’s unlikely to have a nondescript lorisid)

SWINE

Boar: 18

Pig: 7

Warthog: 2

PINNIPED

Seal: 16

Walrus: 6

Sea Lion: 4

CETACEA (Whales and Dolphins)

Whale: 12

Dolphin: 11

Cetacea Notes

As stated above, I’m pretty sure the low numbers here is due to whales/dolphins making better fits for seadwellers than pretty much any other troll. That’s understandable, in the scheme of things

For those who may not know, you may be wondering why manatees aren’t listed here. That’s because manatees aren’t related to whales and dolphins! Manatees are found in the Sirenia family.

RACCOON-LIKE

Raccoon: 13

Red Panda: 4

Coati: 3

PILOSA

Sloth: 10

Anteater: 5

MOLE-LIKE

Mole: 8

Shrew: 3

Gopher: 1

Solenodon: 1

GIRAFFIDAE 

This would have been Giraffes and okapis...if I found any okapi lusii.

Giraffe: 10

MONOTREME (Egg-Laying)

Platypus: 9

Echidna: 1

ODD UNGULATE

Rhino: 7

Tapir: 1

HERPESTIDAE

Mongoose: 4

Meerkat: 2

CAMELID

Camel: 3

Alpaca: 1

Llama: 1

OTHER MAMMAL

Everything that couldn’t be categorized into a supergroup. With the exception of giraffe, because seriously I thought okapis of those would come up. Simultaneously, I wasn’t expecting the Sirenia group to have more than the camels.

Bear: 44

Bats: 42

Hyena: 26

Armadillo: 12

Hedgehog: 9

Skunk: 6

Manatee: 5

Hippopotamus: 2

Pangolin: 2

Civet: 2

Dugong: 1

Stellar's Sea Cow: 1

Fossa: 1

Top 3 Bears

Bear (Nondescript) = 25

Brown Bear (includes grizzlies) = 8

Panda Bear = 6

Top 3 Bats

Bat (Nondescript) = 24

Vampire Bat = 7

Fruit Bat = 4

Overall Notes

There was honestly more variation than I expected to some degree. When I started doing this, I had to add the odd ungulate category. And in hindsight, I should have retroactively added a Sirenia category.

Unsurprisingly, common pets in North America is the most common. Not that such is a problem: Homestuck’s filled with American slang and written by an American. It’s just like how Changeling the Dreaming mentions puka fae should generally be common pets.  

In general - and this is a trend across the board - a nondescript version is more common than a specific one. This is applicable both to species where there’s not many variants and species with lots of variants. However, the likelihood of specification is ultimately very much creator-based. i.e: Some creators gave whole names (e.g: Valaris Blacknose Sheep, Long Tailed Weasel, Hungarian Puli Dog) and some gave simple names (Sheep, Weasel, Dog). There’s nothing wrong with either one, I just found it interesting how it fell.

You’ll notice mutations like 6 legged or 4 eyed don’t come up. Because this was listing species and not mutations, these were largely ignored. Except for “9 tailed fox”. I listed those separately because I wasn’t sure if they were referencing back to myth or not.

After listing all of these, I might go back and figure out exactly how many extinct species there are.

If you’re looking for something no one’s ever done, I suggest pulling from the Camelid or Mongoose family. Or an Okapi. All I’m saying...unholy combination of a zebra, a deer, and a giraffe.

Anyway, that’s the big stuff for mammals! Next up, I’ll be counting all the birds.

[kathydsalters31]

5 Reasons Your Dachshund Will love Hiking

Believe it or not, most Dachshunds enjoy hiking.

That is my experience anyway.

I founded a Dachshund club in 2010 to assist individuals get energetic with theirs and also lots of times a Dachshund has actually involved our hikes that has actually never ever done it in the past

. The proprietors are shocked just how their Doxie requires to trek today and also just how pleased it makes them. I’ve seen many Dachshunds”come to life “on the trail.

Many proprietors don’t take their Wiener Dogs beyond their area out of concern. The Misconception About How Fragile Dachshunds Are Many individuals listen to that the

Dachshund breed is susceptible to back problems. It is a fact that 25%will have some sort of back issue in their life. The misconception though is that the owner can totally regulate whether their Doxie harms their back or otherwise.

What individuals do not understand is that the primary source of back issues in Dachshunds between 4 and also 8 years old, when there has actually been no obvious, intense injury like an automobile mishap, is a hereditary illness. This genetic condition is called Intervertebral Disk Disease (IVDD). It creates a dog’s back to age too soon and

end up being breakable, which can cause a disk tear. You can’t 100 % control whether your Dachshund will certainly hurt their back or not due to the fact that the primary cause is a hereditary disease.

You can

treat a Dachshund like a breakable item of glass all their life and also they can jump up from bed eventually suddenly unable to walk

. I’m not claiming proprietors should not offer their Dachshund the most effective possibility they can at no injury, a light injury, or easier healing. They should.

Things to avoid consist of leaping from high areas, a great deal of harsh play where their Dachshund is twisting their spinal column, play with large dogs that lead to the bigger dog “slapping” a Dachshund’s back.

Yet many individuals lump hiking into this “risk” category and, in reality, treking can really be an useful task for Dachshunds.

Among my Dachshunds has IVDD and suffered a back injury. I worked with a number of experts to assist her get back to regular as long as feasible.

Every one of them told me her healing would certainly be much easier because she on a regular basis went hiking– she was a healthy and balanced weight and her core muscles were strong because of it.

Dachshunds Were Bred for Hiking

The Dachshund type originated in Germany and also was bred for searching badgers as well as various other small game that such as to combat back.

The features required to quest these tiny pets makes them fearless and also vibrant dog with a lot of energy.W The Dachshund breed was

established to be seekers. Although they are hardly ever utilized for that purpose in the United States, they preserve many of initial the features as well as attributes. Dachshunds are regulative used to track as well as quest in Europe. Dachshunds aren’t used for searching as much in the United States however I have actually come across some being utilized for bird searching as well as finding injured deer (scent monitoring ). Several genetic traits that make Dachshunds great hunters also make them excellent walkers. 5 Reasons You Should Hike With Your Dachshund There are numerous benefits to your Dachshund if they go hiking on a regular basis.

1 )It offers their sniffer an exercise

Dachshunds can get bored of the usual smells in their lawn and also

around their neighborhood. Scents in the woods are really various. There are way more of them as well as they are more wonderful than the ones most dogs encounter

every day. When most Wiener Dogs hike, they keep their nose to the ground as well as their sniffer burning the midnight oil. You can see the happiness and also exhilaration on their face.

2)It offers mental excitement In addition to all the views and smells, treking provides psychological excitement. A Dachshund has to utilize their brain to

resolve troubles like climbing up over a little log or rocks. Consider treking with your

Dachshund like positioning them within a big puzzle. 3)It releases pleased chemicals in their body Treking obtains your Dachshund’s heart pumping. This enhanced task will release endorphins

, which make them feel satisfied and complete of energy.

4) It will assist keep their weight in check

Treking burns a more calories than a general walk around the block.

Ensuring your Dachshund is not overweight is essential not even if weight problems can shorten their life by approximately 2.5 years.

Maintaining a canine at a healthy weight is stabilizing their calories in (food) with their calories out (workout). Treking is a wonderful cardio workout that burns a lot of calories.

If your Dachshund has a great deal of fat on their body, just walking can be literally uneasy and also it can make their joints injured, including their back.

5) They won’t obtain reprimanded as much

There are lots of habits problems that can result from a

Dachshund not obtaining sufficient workout. These habits can vary from moderate like not sleeping with the night or being a little irritable to much more serious like extreme barking or licking paws.

These undesirable habits can lead to you yelling at your dog or getting very frustrated, which a Dachshund can notice.

Hiking is an enjoyable way to assist make certain your Dachshund is obtaining the exercise they require.

Exactly how to Hike With Your Dachshund

Some of you reading this might already be hiking with your Dachshund and also were seeking peace of mind that, as some people assert, you were not being “mean for making them trek thus far on their short little legs”.

It’s easier to start treking with your Dachshund than you believe. You can start by walking some brief, unpaved trails around your area.

Several of you may have stumbled across it while seeking a small dog capable of hiking and adventuring with you (if that’s you, check out my listing of

15 small dogs that make great hiking buddies).

Some of you may have a Dachshund pup with a lot of energy and also you’re trying to determine how to tire them out.

Regardless of what interested you about this write-up, several of these resources might help answer your concerns.

If you have a very young Dachshund, please review my post regarding the secure age to hike with a puppy

. A Dachshund young puppy under about 6 months old shouldn’t go for a difficult or lengthy walk, it’s alright to bring your puppy right into the woods with you.

This way your puppy will certainly start to be revealed to the wild and also the journey life.

These knapsacks are

the very best, most safe choices I’ve located for carrying a Dachshund. This sling carrier is likewise a great option.

While you’re out, as long as your pup has actually gotten every one of their inoculations, you can place him or her down on the ground to stroll and also smell around a little at breaks.

< img src ="https://youdidwhatwithyourweiner.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Summit-Puppy-In-Collar-800×696.jpg" alt= "Dachshund puppy sitting in the grass with an

orange collar on “course= “wp-image-18745″srcset=”https://youdidwhatwithyourweiner.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Summit-Puppy-In-Collar.jpg 800w, https://youdidwhatwithyourweiner.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Summit-Puppy-In-Collar-600×522.jpg 600w, https://youdidwhatwithyourweiner.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Summit-Puppy-In-Collar-768×668.jpg 768w” dimensions =”(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px”> Exploring in the

timbers will provide psychological and also physical excitement for your

Dachshund puppy and also assistance to tire him or her out. If you prepare to start going on walkings with your little pet, review my

finest tips for educating a Dachshund to hike. The Disclaimer Like people, some Dachshunds are a lot more normally athletic than others. Additionally like people, normally athletic or not, nearly every Dachshund can be trained to hike, accumulate their physical fitness so they can

do even more, as well as learn to like it. Keeping that being claimed, it’s except

every Dachshund. If your Dachshund is new to treking, as well as you intend to do more than a 2-3 flat walk in the woods, I extremely suggest contacting your vet beforehand to make certain they are healthy enough.

Things that might protect against a Dachshund from treking are underlying clinical issues or a previous injury without complete (and even most) healing.

While it’s true that the majority of Dachshunds will certainly like walking, some will not. Do not push them if they are just not right into it.

I will say do not quit on hiking with your Dachshund if they appear disinterested the very first few times you go.

If it’s a new task for them, it may seem weird or they might be puzzled. If they are utilized to sitting about, they may be out of shape and also get worn out extremely swiftly.

If you have actually tried hiking with your Dachshund a lots times and they are still not right into it, hiking might just not be your canine’s point. It’s most likely best to not press it.

Final thought

You’ve heard the claiming an exhausted canine is a satisfied pet? Well, I state I worn out canine is a happy proprietor!

Hiking for exercise can assist your Dachshund remain in shape, satisfy their natural instinct, make them much better behaved, and make them better as a whole.

Lots of people believe, due to their dimension and propensity for back injury, that it’s harmful for a Doxie to trek.

Hopefully this write-up has actually encouraged you that the advantages of hiking with your Dachshund much exceed any kind of possible threats.

source http://www.luckydogsolutions.com/5-reasons-your-dachshund-will-love-hiking/

from Lucky Dog Solutions https://luckydogsolutions.blogspot.com/2020/06/5-reasons-your-dachshund-will-love.html

[barryswamsleyaz]

5 Reasons Your Dachshund Will love Hiking

Believe it or not, most Dachshunds enjoy hiking.

That is my experience anyway.

I founded a Dachshund club in 2010 to assist individuals get energetic with theirs and also lots of times a Dachshund has actually involved our hikes that has actually never ever done it in the past

. The proprietors are shocked just how their Doxie requires to trek today and also just how pleased it makes them. I’ve seen many Dachshunds”come to life “on the trail.

Many proprietors don’t take their Wiener Dogs beyond their area out of concern. The Misconception About How Fragile Dachshunds Are Many individuals listen to that the

Dachshund breed is susceptible to back problems. It is a fact that 25%will have some sort of back issue in their life. The misconception though is that the owner can totally regulate whether their Doxie harms their back or otherwise.

What individuals do not understand is that the primary source of back issues in Dachshunds between 4 and also 8 years old, when there has actually been no obvious, intense injury like an automobile mishap, is a hereditary illness. This genetic condition is called Intervertebral Disk Disease (IVDD). It creates a dog’s back to age too soon and

end up being breakable, which can cause a disk tear. You can’t 100 % control whether your Dachshund will certainly hurt their back or not due to the fact that the primary cause is a hereditary disease.

You can treat a Dachshund like a breakable item of glass all their life and also they can jump up from bed eventually suddenly unable to walk

. I’m not claiming proprietors should not offer their Dachshund the most effective possibility they can at no injury, a light injury, or easier healing. They should.

Things to avoid consist of leaping from high areas, a great deal of harsh play where their Dachshund is twisting their spinal column, play with large dogs that lead to the bigger dog “slapping” a Dachshund’s back.

Yet many individuals lump hiking into this “risk” category and, in reality, treking can really be an useful task for Dachshunds.

Among my Dachshunds has IVDD and suffered a back injury. I worked with a number of experts to assist her get back to regular as long as feasible.

Every one of them told me her healing would certainly be much easier because she on a regular basis went hiking– she was a healthy and balanced weight and her core muscles were strong because of it.

Dachshunds Were Bred for Hiking

The Dachshund type originated in Germany and also was bred for searching badgers as well as various other small game that such as to combat back.

The features required to quest these tiny pets makes them fearless and also vibrant dog with a lot of energy.W The Dachshund breed was

established to be seekers. Although they are hardly ever utilized for that purpose in the United States, they preserve many of initial the features as well as attributes. Dachshunds are regulative used to track as well as quest in Europe. Dachshunds aren’t used for searching as much in the United States however I have actually come across some being utilized for bird searching as well as finding injured deer (scent monitoring ). Several genetic traits that make Dachshunds great hunters also make them excellent walkers. 5 Reasons You Should Hike With Your Dachshund There are numerous benefits to your Dachshund if they go hiking on a regular basis.

1 )It offers their sniffer an exercise

Dachshunds can get bored of the usual smells in their lawn and also

around their neighborhood. Scents in the woods are really various. There are way more of them as well as they are more wonderful than the ones most dogs encounter

every day. When most Wiener Dogs hike, they keep their nose to the ground as well as their sniffer burning the midnight oil. You can see the happiness and also exhilaration on their face.

2)It offers mental excitement In addition to all the views and smells, treking provides psychological excitement. A Dachshund has to utilize their brain to

resolve troubles like climbing up over a little log or rocks. Consider treking with your

Dachshund like positioning them within a big puzzle. 3)It releases pleased chemicals in their body Treking obtains your Dachshund’s heart pumping. This enhanced task will release endorphins, which make them feel satisfied and complete of energy.

4) It will assist keep their weight in check

Treking burns a more calories than a general walk around the block.

Ensuring your Dachshund is not overweight is essential not even if weight problems can shorten their life by approximately 2.5 years.

Maintaining a canine at a healthy weight is stabilizing their calories in (food) with their calories out (workout). Treking is a wonderful cardio workout that burns a lot of calories.

If your Dachshund has a great deal of fat on their body, just walking can be literally uneasy and also it can make their joints injured, including their back.

5) They won’t obtain reprimanded as much

There are lots of habits problems that can result from a Dachshund not obtaining sufficient workout. These habits can vary from moderate like not sleeping with the night or being a little irritable to much more serious like extreme barking or licking paws.

These undesirable habits can lead to you yelling at your dog or getting very frustrated, which a Dachshund can notice.

Hiking is an enjoyable way to assist make certain your Dachshund is obtaining the exercise they require.

Exactly how to Hike With Your Dachshund

Some of you reading this might already be hiking with your Dachshund and also were seeking peace of mind that, as some people assert, you were not being “mean for making them trek thus far on their short little legs”.

It’s easier to start treking with your Dachshund than you believe. You can start by walking some brief, unpaved trails around your area.

Several of you may have stumbled across it while seeking a small dog capable of hiking and adventuring with you (if that’s you, check out my listing of 15 small dogs that make great hiking buddies).

Some of you may have a Dachshund pup with a lot of energy and also you’re trying to determine how to tire them out.

Regardless of what interested you about this write-up, several of these resources might help answer your concerns.

If you have a very young Dachshund, please review my post regarding the secure age to hike with a puppy

. A Dachshund young puppy under about 6 months old shouldn’t go for a difficult or lengthy walk, it’s alright to bring your puppy right into the woods with you.

This way your puppy will certainly start to be revealed to the wild and also the journey life.

These knapsacks are the very best, most safe choices I’ve located for carrying a Dachshund. This sling carrier is likewise a great option.

While you’re out, as long as your pup has actually gotten every one of their inoculations, you can place him or her down on the ground to stroll and also smell around a little at breaks.

< img src =“https://youdidwhatwithyourweiner.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Summit-Puppy-In-Collar-800×696.jpg” alt= “Dachshund puppy sitting in the grass with an

orange collar on “course= “wp-image-18745″srcset=”https://youdidwhatwithyourweiner.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Summit-Puppy-In-Collar.jpg 800w, https://youdidwhatwithyourweiner.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Summit-Puppy-In-Collar-600×522.jpg 600w, https://youdidwhatwithyourweiner.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Summit-Puppy-In-Collar-768×668.jpg 768w” dimensions =”(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px”> Exploring in the

timbers will provide psychological and also physical excitement for your

Dachshund puppy and also assistance to tire him or her out. If you prepare to start going on walkings with your little pet, review my

finest tips for educating a Dachshund to hike. The Disclaimer Like people, some Dachshunds are a lot more normally athletic than others. Additionally like people, normally athletic or not, nearly every Dachshund can be trained to hike, accumulate their physical fitness so they can

do even more, as well as learn to like it. Keeping that being claimed, it’s except

every Dachshund. If your Dachshund is new to treking, as well as you intend to do more than a 2-3 flat walk in the woods, I extremely suggest contacting your vet beforehand to make certain they are healthy enough.

Things that might protect against a Dachshund from treking are underlying clinical issues or a previous injury without complete (and even most) healing.

While it’s true that the majority of Dachshunds will certainly like walking, some will not. Do not push them if they are just not right into it.

I will say do not quit on hiking with your Dachshund if they appear disinterested the very first few times you go.

If it’s a new task for them, it may seem weird or they might be puzzled. If they are utilized to sitting about, they may be out of shape and also get worn out extremely swiftly.

If you have actually tried hiking with your Dachshund a lots times and they are still not right into it, hiking might just not be your canine’s point. It’s most likely best to not press it.

Final thought

You’ve heard the claiming an exhausted canine is a satisfied pet? Well, I state I worn out canine is a happy proprietor!

Hiking for exercise can assist your Dachshund remain in shape, satisfy their natural instinct, make them much better behaved, and make them better as a whole.

Lots of people believe, due to their dimension and propensity for back injury, that it’s harmful for a Doxie to trek.

Hopefully this write-up has actually encouraged you that the advantages of hiking with your Dachshund much exceed any kind of possible threats.

from Lucky Dog Solutions http://www.luckydogsolutions.com/5-reasons-your-dachshund-will-love-hiking/ from Lucky Dog Solutions https://luckydogsolutions.tumblr.com/post/622370192718233600

[cyberkevvideo]

Throne of Night Theory Builds Part 17: The Aquatic Dino Rider

Still killing time during the quarantine, and while I’d started this last week, I needed to take a break from builds for a bit. No particular reason. Just difficult to do when the motivation isn’t there. Mom got some bad news regarding her cancer and was taken off work and placed in immediate quarantine. So it’s a bit of a trying time at the moment. Especially since it looks like she’ll be off work until some time in June, if not until July. Gotta worry about cancer and C-19. That’ll gotta be hard on her.

All in all, during this very troubling time, I hope everyone’s staying safe and are keeping healthy. It looks like we’re in for the long haul.

But, let’s not dwell and get right into it.

For space reasons, I’ll be cropping the encounter build.

All images shared here were done by the forever fantastic and amazingly talented Michael D. Clarke, aka SpiralMagus

EDIT: Stats are cleaned up and look pretty.

BTW, it suggested I make one because there are those who’ve expressed they want to reward my efforts, so I made a Ko-Fi page. No pressure in supporting it though. I know we’re all experiencing financially trying times right now. I hope everyone’s staying safe right now.

This build took some time to figure out. I’ll bet you anything that I over thought this. That said, if the whole thing was planned to be nothing more than a skum fighter (dragoon)/ or ranger and a young advanced hit die elasmosaurus with the two-headed template and either mutant or eldritch added in, I’ll be upset and underwhelmed. That said, I’m really wondering how close I am.

That two-prong end to the weapon makes it look like a special kind of lance, maybe some variant of a sunblade, or the Illuminating property from 3.5e, but I’m banking on it just being thematic for a shocking weapon, and the two prong lance is a variant trident. The old rules had it say that when you first activated the weapon, it lit up brilliantly to showcase what kind of weapon it was.

You’ll notice that there’s one additional Hit Die for the skum. When you add a template that reduces your Constitution, your hit points take quite the hit, and you have to make it up somehow. Unfortunately due to the CR, I was limited on how much wealth I could give, so I couldn’t just add a Con belt.

As for a background on this NPC, from how it was written in the update this picture was prominent, it doesn’t appear that he/she/they are meant to be an enemy. At least not initially, and not hostile on purpose. They’re supposed to be a former drow, likely changed by the aboleth’s mucus ability or through some fleshwarping. It’s likely he forgot himself after all the mind-affecting effects, but due to a twist of fate (likely because it was originally a drow and the effect is said to only truly work on humans), broke free of the control, and managed to escape. As for the beast, it could be something that was slightly warped while being around its master, or they could have found one another. For this to work, I surmise that the dinosaur normally only has one head, but when the party is discovered, the skum drow activates the second head and approaches the party in a cautious, but intimidating manner, to let them know they can be a threat if push comes to shove.

My thought process is the skum drow will warn the PCs of the upcoming aboleth, explaining that a bunch of them were kidnapped and made into slaves. This might even create a possible team-up to try free everyone enslaved and turned into skum. If not, maybe just give them some tips on how to break into the city so that they have a better fighting chance.

It’s also the first time in a while that I’ve written tactics, as minimal as it is.

VIERZYNE THE AWAKENED    (CR 16; 76,800 XP) Drowblood advanced skum hunter (primal companion hunter) 11/fighter (dragoon) 2 LE Medium monstrous humanoid (aquatic, elf) Init +5; Senses darkvision 80 ft.; Perception +18 DEFENSE AC 25, touch 13, flat-footed 23 (+10 armor, +1 Dex, +1 deflection, +1 dodge, +2 natural) hp 178 (17 HD; 5d10+12d8+97) Fort +17, Ref +13, Will +13; +1 vs. fear, spells, and spell-like abilities Immune sleep; Resist cold 10; SR 25 OFFENSE Speed 20 ft., swim 40 ft. Melee +1 keen shocking trident +22 (1d8+6 plus 1d6 electricity), claw +17 (1d4+3), bite +17 (1d6+3) Ranged mwk aquatic light crossbow +16 (1d8) Hunter Spells Prepared (CL 12th; concentration +15)   4th (3/day)—blessing of the salamander, cure serious wounds, echolocation, nondetection   3rd (5/day)—burst of speed, communal resist energy, strong jaw, swarm of fangs   2nd (6/day)—allfood, badger’s ferocity, barkskin, bull’s strength, versatile weapon   1st (6/day)—alarm, cure light wounds, detect aberration, heightened awareness, lead blades, magic fang   0 (at will)—create water, detect magic, guidance, know direction, mending, resistance Hunter Spell-like Abilities (CL 12th; concentration +11)   1/day—raise animal companion Spell-like Abilities (CL 17th; concentration +16)   1/day—dancing lights, darkness, faerie fire TACTICS Morale If Vierzyne and Lince’sa appear to be overwhelmed by their enemies or are less than half hit points, Vierzyne activates primal surge to give Lince’sa dimension door and have them escape together. STATISTICS Str 22, Dex 13, Con 18, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 8 Base Atk +13; CMB +19; CMD 21 Feats Back to Back, Boon Companion, Dodge, Duck and Cover, Eschew Materials, Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Lunge, Mounted CombatB, MultiattackB, OutflankB, Precise Strike, Ride-by Attack, Share Healing, Skill Focus (Handle Animal), Skill Focus (Ride)B, Toughness, Weapon Focus (trident) Skills Handle Animal +22, Heal +10, Intimidate +10, Knowledge (dungeoneering) +13, Knowledge (engineering) +5, Knowledge (geography) +10, Knowledge (nature) +10, Perception +18 (+22 underwater), Ride +21 (+23 to stay in the saddle), Spellcraft +10, Stealth +11 (+15 underwater), Survival +14, Swim +17; Racial Modifiers +4 Perception and Stealth underwater, +8 Swim; ACP –5 Languages Aboleth, Elven, Undercommon SQ amphibious, drowblood, hunter tactics, improved empathic link, precise companion, primal surge 1/day, primal transformation (head [extra], tail slap [1d8], unnatural aura; swift action, 12 minutes/day), swift tracker, track +6, woodland stride, wild empathy +11 Combat Gear wand of cure light wounds (37 charges); Other Gear plate armor of the deep, +1 keen shocking trident, masterwork aquatic light crossbow with 15 bolts, cloak of resistance +1, headband of inspired wisdom +2, ring of protection +1, ring of sustenance SPECIAL ABILITIES Drow Blood (Ex) Drowblood creatures are considered to be members of the base creature’s race and the drow and elf races for the purpose of racially specific special abilities and effects.

-- drow name means Darkness Hunter, has forgotten what house he belongs to, and his memory is piecemeal at best. -- companion’s name means “pet”.

--------------------------------------------------

LINCE'SA (CR —; — XP) N Large aberrant elasmosaurus Init +6; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, scent; Perception +10 DEFENSE AC 33, touch 16, flat-footed 26 (+3 armor, +6 Dex, +13 natural, +1 deflection, +1 dodge, –1 size) hp 130 (13d8+72) Fort +13, Ref +14, Will +8 Defensive Abilities alien mind, improved evasion OFFENSE Speed 20 ft., swim 50 ft. Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Melee bite +16 (3d6+10) STATISTICS Str 24, Dex 22, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 14, Cha 9 Base Atk +9; CMB +17; CMD 34 (38 vs. trip) Feats Dodge, Great Fortitude, Improved Natural Attack (bite), Iron Will, Mobility, Toughness, Weapon Focus (bite) Skills Acrobatics +13, Escape Artist +10, Intimidate +3, Perception +10, Stealth +6, Swim +16; Racial Modifiers +8 Swim Languages understands Aquatic and Undercommon SQ aberrant sight, fluid bones (compression), link, speak with master Tricks attack, come, defend, down, fetch, guard, heel, perform, seek, stay, track, work Gear +1 leather barding, ring of protection +1, bit and bridle, exotic military saddle SPECIAL ABILITIES Alien Mind (Ex) An aberrant companion is immune to mind-affecting effects that specifically target animals, such as charm animal. Anyone who attempts to use such an effect against it takes 1d4 points of Wisdom damage (Will DC 20 half). Not Quite Animal (Ex) The DC to use Handle Animal on an aberrant companion is 5 higher, as if it were a nonanimal with an Intelligence score of 1 or 2.

[illuminating-dragons]

Fading Scars (6/?): The Sortings

Time: 2009 and beyond

Summary:  The various sortings of the Next Generation, and what happened next.

Teddy Lupin

           Harry and Ginny invited Andromeda to breakfast with them the first morning. Lily was fussy with teething, but between James chattering about the book he was reading with Ginny and Albus’ incessant questions, Harry hoped the woman was distracted from missing Teddy. Her grandson. His godson.

           Harry had been so caught up in Teddy’s own excitement about going to Hogwarts that he hadn’t quite thought through what it would be like when he’d be away.  He’s so young. What if he’s homesick? What if he hates it? What if he has no friends?

           Lily whined in his lap, and Harry cuddled her close. Thank goodness his other children were still years away from Hogwarts.

           A large barn owl swooped into the breakfast room and dropped two letters—one in Andromeda’s hand, one in Harry’s.

           “Moo!” Lily shouted. Harry couldn’t help smiling. Poor Teddy had been trying to be nice when he let Lily pick her name. Trouble was, he’d forgotten that Lily knew a limited amount of words at one, but a great deal of sounds.

           The owl let Lily pet him as Harry passed the letter to Ginny—his hands were a bit full. Ginny opened it eagerly, then beamed. “He loved the feast!”

           Andromeda nodded, her eyes solemn. “He says the Sorting Hat sang about friendship this year. He’s been sorted into Hufflepuff.”

           “Brilliant,” Harry said. “He’s always loved yellow.”    

           Andromeda peered at him. “You’re not…”

           “Not what?” Then it hit him. “Do you think I’d be disappointed?”

           “No, of course not. Perhaps surprised. It’s just in some ways he takes after his father more than Dora.”

           “I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was in Gryffindor,” Ginny said, “but I think he’ll fit in well in Hufflepuff. And anyways, that’s where his mum was, right?” She read on, and she drew in a sharp breath.

           “Ginny?”

           Ginny reached out for Lily, and Harry passed her over, taking the letter in exchange. He read it aloud, his voice getting tighter as he went on.

           And you two won’t believe it, but one of the prefects, Gemma, she took me and a couple of others with Hufflepuff family over to the Hole. It’s a little hole in the floor, right near the fire, and everyone who graduates puts in a stone with their names scratched on them for any of their family who are Sorted here. She gave me Mummy’s. It’s all colourful. Gemma said she thought there might be jewels in it, or something precious, and my Mummy loved it. It’s for me now to keep. I think when I graduate I might put it back in with my name on it too. I’ll ask Gemma in the morning.

Heaps of love,

Teddy the Badger

P.S. I miss you, but Hogwarts is brilliant, so don’t worry about me.

Victoire Weasley

           It took a long time to decide whether or not to send Victoire to Hogwarts at all.

           Fleur and Bill went back and forth. Beauxbatons was a wonderful school too, and Fleur’s family was there, and there were traditions there that were just as important. Fleur had loved school dearly, and actually cried the day she left for England, not just for her family but the lovely long halls and high windows of Beauxbatons.

           On the other hand, the idea of having Victoire so far away made her heart ache (and made her write her mother more often). Bill was willing to do either, but he pointed out that Victoire wasn’t quite fluent in French, and she adored her cousins, all of whom were going to Hogwarts. That wasn’t even a point of discussion in the other Weasley homes.

           Eventually Victoire was asked her opinion. She thought about it quite seriously for three days, and then told them that she wanted to go to Hogwarts right now.

           “Can I change my mind when I’m older?” she asked. “When I’m ready to leave home?”

           Fleur hugged her daughter close. “Bien sur,” she promised.

           (It would later turn out that Victoire would never go very far from home. She wasn’t an adventurer like either of her parents. She stayed home, first with them and then with Teddy, writing music. She only ever sang for her children, but her songs travelled the globe).

           But Fleur didn’t know it that day. All she knew was that suddenly Hogwarts was too far away, and the train was dangerous, and perhaps they could teach her? But no, her daughter had a brilliant mind, and needed to be nurtured by people who weren’t family.

           And when Victoire came home for Christmas wearing Ravenclaw blue and bubbling over about how many things she wanted to learn, Fleur knew they’d made the right decision.

Dominique Weasley

           Dominique’s red hair had always run wild. Unlike her sister, who kept her blonde hair tucked into braids, Dominique let her hair fly free, just like Aunt Gabrielle’s. She was the first up in the morning, the last to sleep, and could never sit still long enough to read a book. Fearless and tough, she roamed each day looking for adventure.

           Dominque cried fiercely the night before she went to Hogwarts, begging to stay home. Bill promised her the same deal as Victoire—when she was thirteen, she could change her mind about school. He would teach her himself if she wanted, and take her on voyages. “My adventuring partner,” he always called her. He was sure she would find her home in Gryffindor.

           She found her home, but it wasn’t in the house of chivalry and nerve. Instead, it was in the house of creativity, of inquiring minds who thirsted for knowledge. And when Dominique opened the trunk her family had packed for her, she found a bronze eagle set with sapphires from Aunt Luna, who’d recognized the need for answers.

           Dominique—Nicki when she got older— would eventually join her dad on his expeditions, but only sometimes. She was searching for curses, and Dad was good at breaking them. Sometimes he was too slow, though, and she would barge on ahead, using spells she designed to bring them down, tame them, catalogue and comprehend them.

           There were people to help, after all—people who’d been hurt by these curses. And Nicki was going to find out how to help them, no matter what got in her way.

Fred Weasley II

           After Bill’s daughters both being sorted into Ravenclaw, everyone started getting used to the idea that not all the Weasleys would be in Gryffindor. No one was upset, of course—it just felt a bit odd.

           So when George and Angelina broke the news that their son hadn’t been sorted into Gryffindor either, people were calm.

           They stopped being calm when they found out Freddie Weasley was in Slytherin.

           George nearly shouted himself hoarse arguing with Angelina that day. She was panicking, terribly worried that they’d done something wrong. Her family was Gryffindor through and through. The statistics for Death Eaters was overwhelmingly Slytherin. She loved her son—loved him deep and strong—but would he survive Slytherin? Would he be the same? And even if he belonged in Slytherin…what if the others, offspring of old pureblood families, didn’t agree?

           “Damn it, woman,” George finally raged, “Fred and I should probably have been in Slytherin!”

           And Angelina knew, in her heart of hearts, that he was right. They’d both grown up knowing red was their colour. Who knew? Perhaps if they’d had a chance to be different, to choose their own way, maybe she would have worn yellow, her husband green. Maybe their son was growing up in a world where he could choose that without worrying. Where he could be where he belonged, and never think that maybe their House was good and they loved their housemates, but it never quite felt like home.

           And that’s what she and George told everyone who looked shocked or worried, everyone who might have wondered what they thought. They thought that they loved their son, and he was perfectly fine as he was, thank you very much. And soon everyone calmed down.

           Freddie always looked well in green.

Roxanne Weasley

           Roxanne loved Quidditch. But she didn’t love it for the game itself. She played, of course, because she was damn good at it and she loved competing against her brother, but it was the minds behind it that were so interesting. What drove people to play? Why did some give up after being injured? What made certain games so exciting?

           It was a lot of numbers, a lot of sifting through stories. But Roxy was patient, and quiet, and knew how to listen. It was useful in a family like hers. All those redheads—but then again, was that true? Did people with red hair really have worse tempers?

           When the Sorting Hat called out Ravenclaw no one was more surprised than Roxy. It wasn’t just that it was Ravenclaw, but that it was so fast. She was sure she was going to be a Hatstall. She had no idea where she belonged.

           But the Hat somehow did. It understood that knowledge seekers aren’t always passionate about learning. Sometimes they’re patient and calm as they work away at an answer. They can stop work, do something else; the question doesn’t have to consume their life.

           And sometimes those knowledge seekers become passionate about the questions of others. They love helping people solve puzzles, they love watching people learn.

           Roxanne was one of those, and Madam Pince knew it. At last she could retire, knowing her beloved library was in good hands.

James Sirius Potter

           James Sirius Potter was the descendant of Marauders and nephew to the founders and owners of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He was the eldest Potter child, and he had red hair.

           Apparently this meant he had to be the biggest prankster running.

           There was only one problem with this theory, and it wasn’t that Albus was playing jokes on him at the age of three, or that Lily invented a product for the joke shop before she could talk properly.

           No, it was that he simply didn’t want to.

           Oh he retaliated when his siblings pulled pranks, and he and Albus had magnificent wars, but he never instigated. He just had other things to do. His book pile wasn’t getting any shorter, there was Quidditch to play with Mum and Dad, and he loved watching the stars.

           When James was sorted, it took a while. The Hat discussed his options with him—he would find some friends in Ravenclaw, but they were quite intense about it. James had never understood people with only one passion. He’d much prefer being in a group of people that let people be what they wanted.

           The Hat agreed that was best, and put him in Gryffindor.

           When James lay down that night, he did some counting and realized he was in his dad’s room, and quite possibly in his dad’s bed. That was nice—it made him feel closer to home. He hugged his pillow. He didn’t feel very brave.

           It would take him years to realize that being quiet in a noisy family, being funny at no one’s expense, loving the way he wanted to, and being steadfast and polite about it, was its own kind of bravery.

Louis Weasley

           When Louis was little, their favourite cousin was Fred, because Fred understood that they were, well, they. Not a little boy, not a little girl, just they.  

           It was Fred who gave Lou their first camera, and Fred who was their first model. Posed on the beach at high noon, dressed in clothes exactly the colour of his skin, he stood with his head thrown back and arms held high.

           (Years later, Lou would pose another man that way but pose them nude.)

           Going to school worried Lou, worried their parents. Mum and Dad had always been good about using the right words, about letting them wear what they wanted. But Hogwarts had rules, and Hogwarts had dorms by gender. There were already students who had crossed the dorms, girls born boys who could walk up the staircase, boys born girls who made it a slide. The dorms amended for that, but what would they do for someone who was neither?

           However, Lou had a plan. They didn’t want to make a big deal about what they were. It was bad enough that everyone knew they had inherited the Veela gene full force.

           You throw a tantrum in Diagon Alley and turn into a monster one time…

           So Lou forbade their parents from interfering, pretended to be always male around Professor McGonagall and Professor Longbottom, and packed their bags. They sat with their sisters and Fred in a compartment, twisting their hands and trying to pretend that people weren’t staring in.

           When they got to the Sorting Hat, Lou informed the hat that they didn’t give a toss where they were, but if the Hat told anyone that they were…well, a they, the Sorting Hat would become the Sorting Pincushion.

           “Slytherin!”

           When Lou got to the Slytherin dorm, there was a girl’s dorm and a boy’s dorm, but there was also a third room.

           “Oh,” the Prefect said when they asked. “It’s for people who aren’t comfortable in either. Haven’t all the Houses got one?”

           Lou shook their head.

           “Do you want to sleep in there?”

           Lou nodded.

           “Alright then. Go on.”

           So Lou met Kit, who was still transitioning into a male; Elys, whose Mer blood made human concepts of gender confusing; and Aly, who was mostly feminine but sometimes very, very male.

           By the time Lou graduated, each House had a room like that. Sometimes people only stayed a year, some stayed for their whole career, but it was always by choice, and anyone was welcome.

           And Lou stopped minding if people stared. They got used to the idea that they were beautiful. And despite a couple more Veela episodes, people kept flirting.

           And Lou let them, because flirting was fine, and they learned to be careful about keeping it from crossing the line into love, which they had no interest in (it took an unfortunate episode with Kit for that lesson to come across). And when they grew up and became a photographer everyone knew that you wanted Lou Delacour to take your picture and sleep with you, because it would be the best picture and fuck of your life. But crossing them was a bad idea—they could throw fire, after all.

           Sometimes being a Veela was good for business.

           Freddie was very proud.

Molly Weasley II

            Molly was afraid of spiders. Molly was also afraid of the dark, and alligators, and sharks, and lots of other things, but spiders topped the list. She couldn’t listen to Hagrid’s stories about Aragog at all. Uncle George teased her about it, but Uncle Ron always made him stop. He was scared too.

           When she was eight, Molly tried to make a list of her fears. She gave up when she filled two rolls of parchment. Clearly, being afraid of so many things was impractical. But how was she going to conquer so many fears?

           She started with the simple ones. She went outside at night without a flashlight six nights in a row, trembling and scared in the backyard. Her dad stayed near the door, ready to come and get her right away if she called, but by the last night she actually fell asleep under a moonless, nearly starless sky.

           Then she tried to conquer claustrophobia. This one served to terrify her mother; she kept finding Molly in cupboards. She suggested that Molly try going under a bed, at least when Uncle Harry was visiting. It took much longer, but soon she found it was actually kind of cozy under her bed, and she often went under there to read.

           Three years goes by quickly when you’re trying to fit in phobia-fighting along with being a kid, and soon Molly was packing her trunk for Hogwarts.

           “I’m not ready,” she sobbed.

           “You will be,” Dad promised. “Work on your list when you have a chance, but give yourself some credit. You’ll be okay.”

           Molly barely made it on the train, even clutching Victoire’s hand. Victoire and Nicki were very kind and let her sit with them, but Molly couldn’t concentrate on any conversation. She stared out the window miserably. She didn’t deserve any house. She was cowardly, stupid, couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, and clearly she wasn’t working hard enough to solve these idiotic fears. She was going to be sent home.

           The Hat thought for a long time when Molly put it on, and she shrank into herself.

           “Tell me, Molly Grace,” the Hat whispered to her finally, “why do you insist on believing you are worthless?”

           “I can’t stop being scared,” she thought.

           “Have you tried letting yourself be scared?” the Hat asked.

           “What do you mean?”

           “Embrace your fear. Don’t just face it, understand it. Breathe in the world that holds your fears, and love it anyways.”

           “Will that help me stop being a coward?”

           “You were never a coward, Molly Grace. And you will never be.” The Hat cleared its throat, and then, loud enough that the entire Hall could hear, yelled “Gryffindor!”

           Five years later, when Molly was a Prefect, she gave tiny, scared first years the same speech. They were stunned. How could Molly Grace Weasley, famous for her Quidditch stunts and cool head when exploring the Forbidden Forest, ever have been frightened?

Albus Potter, Rose Granger-Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy

           Harry sank into a chair. The house was really quiet now. They’d spent the afternoon at the British Museum with Lily (a special treat for her), but it felt strange to have both their boys gone.

           Ginny perched next to him, and Harry took her hand. She’d been remarkably strong at the station and all afternoon, but now she looked very sad.        

           “He’ll be home for Christmas, love,” Harry whispered.

           “I know. It’s just,” Ginny sniffed, “my babies are all growing up.”

           Harry pulled her onto his lap. “It’ll be okay, Ginny. We still have Lily.”

           There was a crash from upstairs.

           Ginny groaned. “Maybe that’s not a comfort. Lily!”

           “I didn’t mean to!”

           Ginny went upstairs, and Harry stared into the fire.

           Then Ron’s head popped up. “Mate! How are you?”

           “Alright. How are you and ’Mione holding up?”

           Ron’s face fell. “It’s not easy. I feel sort of bad for wanting to go back to Hogwarts so badly when I was a kid. Must have broken Mum and Dad’s hearts.”        

           “Do you want to come over?”

           “Sure! Hugo’s over at Ricky’s tonight and his dad’s away so Hermione will be alright. Give us a few minutes, yeah?”

           “Sure.”

           Ron’s head vanished.

           Ginny came back. “Was that Ron?”

           “Yeah. He and Hermione want to come over. Sorry, I should have asked.”

           “Don’t be stupid. It’ll be nice to see them. Lily’s going out to see Teddy tonight, right?”

           Harry nodded. Lily and Teddy were working on a project together. He was fairly certain that it involved explosions, but completely certain that Teddy would take very good care of Lily.

           Lily came bouncing in. “Bye Daddy!” she kissed his cheek.

           “Is Teddy—”

           The doorbell rang.

           “I’ll get them going,” Ginny told him. “You get drinks set up for Ron and Hermione.”

           Harry got up and went to the drinks cupboard. He’d put sherry, Firewhiskey, white wine and a Butterbeer on a tray by the time Ron and Hermione stepped through.

           Hermione looked fairly calm, but Ron was clearly upset.

           “Did something happen?”  Harry asked. Nothing could have happened in ten minutes, could it?

           “Rose hasn’t called yet,” Hermione explained. “She said she would right after the Feast.”

           Harry checked his watch. “It’s barely eight!”

           “Which is precisely what I told Ronald,” Hermione said exasperatedly. “They’re likely still eating.”

           “I’m sure she’s okay, Ron,” Ginny said gently.

           “What if she didn’t get sorted into Gryffindor and she’s worried I’m angry?” Ron said, still fretting. “I was joking, honestly!”

           “She knows that,” Hermione said firmly. “She knows you love her. Don’t be thick.”

           Ron took the Firewhiskey and poured it into a glass. “I hope so,” he muttered.

           Harry clinked his Butterbeer against his glass. “They’ll be okay,” he promised. “It’s okay to miss them though.”

           Ron nodded and took a huge swallow. “Thought I was ready.”

           Hermione put an arm around his waist. “I don’t think any of us are.”

           A shower of sparks caught Harry’s eye. To his surprise, Draco’s head was in the fire.

           “Hello, Harry,” he said politely. His eyes widened when he saw Ron and Hermione. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

           “It’s alright, Draco,” Ron answered. He held up the Firewhiskey bottle. “Care to join us?”

           Draco looked grateful. “I would like to, yes. Astoria’s had an emergency with her mum.”

           “Is she alright?” Hermione asked.

           Draco rolled his eyes. “Emergencies with my mother-in-law are a dime a dozen. I believe this time it has to do with the sale of some paintings. Still, Tori wanted to go.”

           Harry went to the fire. “Come on through,” he said, reaching out a hand.

           Draco took hold of Harry’s hand and came through. He didn’t even wobble when he landed on the carpet. Harry wished he had that kind of style.

           They stood together for a few minutes, talking quietly. Harry kept drinking his Butterbeer to make sure that he wasn’t expected to speak much. He was missing his sons badly now, and he wished that Hogwarts wasn’t quite so far away. They could see James in a month in Hogsmeade, but that was only if James wanted them to come…

           “Dad?”

           Startled, Harry looked around.

           “Dad!”

           Harry reached into his pocket for the mirror. Albus’ beaming face was looking up.

           “Hi Dad!” he called.

           “Hello lad,” Harry said. Despite all the Butterbeer, he could still feel the lump in his throat. “How are you?”

           “I’m doing well. Are Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron there?”

           “Yes.” Harry waved the others over.

           “Good!”

            Rose’s face came in too. “Hi Mum, hi Dad!”

           “Hello Rosie!” Ron looked a little astonished. Harry knew how he felt. As good friends as Rose and Albus were, they’d honestly not expected them to be in the same house.

            Albus held up Mad-Eye, the ferret wrapped in a scarf and Rose held up a tie. They were striped blue and bronze.

          “We’re in Ravenclaw!” Rosie cheered. “Together, isn’t it grand?”      

          “That’s lovely, sweet,” Hermione said.

          “Well done, Al,” Ginny added.

          “I wanted to be here,” Albus said, sharing a look with Harry.

          “Then I’m glad you’re there, son,” Harry said firmly.

          “Our whole compartment got into Ravenclaw,” Albus said. “Me and Rosie and Ellie…and—” he broke off when he noticed Draco. “Draco?”

          “Hello, Albus.”

           To Harry’s shock, Albus pulled away. Then—“Scorp, c’mere! Your dad’s here!”

           Draco’s eyes went wide. Scorpius’ face came into view, wearing Ravenclaw pyjamas and looking a bit worried. “Hello, Da.”

           Draco put his hand over his mouth. “Hello, son. You’re in with your friends, then? That’s…that’s wonderful.”

           Scorpius’ face lit up, and he leaned his head against Rose’s shoulder. She patted his head. “Told you he wouldn’t be cross, Scorp.”

           “Rosie!”

          “It’s alright, Scorpius.” Draco cleared his throat. “I know you think my expectations for you are high, and I want you to do your best, but I want you to do that your way.”

           Scorpius touched the mirror, as if he was trying to reach through. “Love you, Da.”

          “And I love you. Your mother and I are so proud.” Draco stepped away for a minute. He wiped his eyes, and Ron put a supportive hand on his arm.

           Albus hugged Scorpius from the other side. “We should go to bed. We want to get up early and watch the sunrise from the top of the tower.”

          “Be careful,” Hermione admonished.

          “We will, Mum, honestly!”

          “Hang on,” Ginny said with a frown. “Where are you?”

           Something in Rose’s face shifted. “The Ravenclaw tower.”

           Draco stepped back into view. “And Scorpius is wearing pyjamas…in the common room.”

           That was odd, now that Harry thought about it. Scorpius was rarely seen without being fully dressed. Even during sleepovers he was found wearing a dressing gown.

           Rose ducked her head. “That’s why we’re a bit late. We had to figure out how I could get into their room.”

          “Aren’t there rules about that?”

          “Maybe,” Rose said, tossing her head. “I didn’t ask.”

            Ron laughed. “That’s my girl.”

           “Try not to get into trouble in the first day,” Ginny said.

           “Wait a week,” Hermione said with a smirk.

           “Mum?!” Rose looked shocked, but Albus laughed.

           “We’ll let you go to bed,” Harry said. “Mind you share what James has, Albus.”

           “I will,” Albus said. “I got one from him at the Feast. We’re going to take turns with each one.”

           “What are you talking about?” Scorpius asked, interested.

           Albus looked quickly at Harry, and after a second’s hesitation, he nodded. “Go ahead and tell them, Al. Just use them well.”

           “Promise. Goodnight Mum and Dad! Say hi to Lily. I’ll write to her tomorrow.”

           “Goodnight sweetheart,” Ginny said.

           Rose and Scorpius called their goodnights too, and then the mirror went blank. For a second Harry was quiet. Albus in Ravenclaw. It really did make sense.

           Hermione touched his hand. “Harry, do you think—”

           He met her eyes, and remembered six years of insane plans, of nights in the Common Room and days in Hagrid’s hut, of friendship and fights and family.

           Then he looked at Draco, and Draco smiled thinly. “I do believe we’ve seen the founding of a new trio.”

           “So…are we saying no Howlers?” Ginny quipped.

           “Are you barking mad?” Ron asked. “Of course we’ll send Howlers. Some of the time.”

           Harry laughed. He was sure Ron wouldn’t send a single one.

           In the end, it was Astoria Malfoy who sent the first Howler near the end of first year when Scorpius dragged/led/was dragged (depending on the account) into the Restricted Section after hours.

           Madam Prince had no idea how they’d snuck into the library.

           The Marauder’s secrets were still safe.

Lucy Weasley

           Lucy worshipped her big sister.

           It was easy to do. Molly was kind and clever and she let Lucy join her on all her adventures. Molly said it was because she was scared, but Lucy didn’t believe that. How could Molly be scared of anything?

           Then Molly left for school, and Lucy was all alone. She didn’t really know what to do with herself. Her other cousins—the Potters and the Granger-Weasleys—liked playing with each other, and Lucy always felt a bit out of place with them.

           So Lucy decided she would find a new friend.

           She wandered around the little village where they lived until she found a boy her age. The boy’s name was Jacob. He was clever, far more clever than Lucy was, but he was just as lonely. No one wanted to play with him because he liked to read big books about computers and physics.

           He had to explain what they were to Lucy, and they read the books together. Lucy was fascinated. Grandad always said that Muggles were clever, but this was amazing! Could they really do all of these things? How did they know how the world worked so well?

           Jacob didn’t understand how Lucy had missed all of these things. Lucy told him she was homeschooled. She desperately wanted to tell him about magic, but it was too risky. Her parents would be cross, and she’d never get to go to Hogwarts with her sister…

           But it wasn’t fair, Lucy realized. It wasn’t fair for Jacob to be sharing all of this with her. He was risking his parents being angry for wasting time on something other than school. He was risking the other kids in his class never being friends with him because he was always with ‘that Weasley girl’.

           So one day when they were out in the woods, Lucy told Jacob about magic.

           And he believed her.

           Delighted, the two of them read through every magic book in her parent’s collection. Dad was glad that Lucy was taking such an interest in magical theory, and bought her new books when she asked. It took him a few months to realize that she was sharing them with the kid down the road with too-big glasses and fidgety hands.

           Lucy and Jacob were having a wonderful time. They looked through the books and argued about how they intersected and whether you could possibly start building machines that worked with magic—not just pulleys, but things like phones, computers…their minds whirled with possibility.

           Then Dad confronted Lucy about what she was doing.

           It was quite a big fight, and Lucy cried. So did Dad. He was terrified that his daughter was going to be in prison before she’d even gotten to school. It was Mum who finally calmed them both down.

           “It’s done already,” she said quietly. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do next.”

           Lucy felt sick. Was Mum going to Obliviate Jacob?

           But no, because Mum was a lawyer, and Mum knew what she was doing. She called in every favour she had and looked up Jacob’s heritage, hoping to find any crossing with a wizarding family. If there was even a chance, the boy wouldn’t count as a Muggle, and Lucy wouldn’t have to lose her friend.

           And there was. He was the great-grandson of a Squib.

           And that was when Lucy lost her temper.

           Not because she hated that Jacob didn’t get to be magic, but that Squibs had no legal standing. They weren’t wizards, but they didn’t get to have wands, and they couldn’t tell their children about magic. But they weren’t Muggles either, so if they did find out, no harm done.

           When Lucy got to school, she spent most of her time in the library. People remarked that it was odd for a Gryffindor to spend so much time there (until Professor Longbottom set them straight about Hermione Granger), but Lucy was determined. She was going to find a way for Jacob and any other descendants of Squibs to find their place in magic. And for wizards to find their place in the Muggle world, because Merlin, people just sort of got by knowing nothing about the outside world.

           (She got into several fights with the Muggle Studies teacher).

           When she graduated, she took off for a year with Jacob and his boyfriend, a Hufflepuff Muggleborn named Dev. The three of them studied like crazy and managed to get into the University of Manchester for physics and computer science. Lucy got into fights with teachers there, but she also found Squibs and descendants of magical families without any magic at all. She recruited them for her cause.

           It took years; it took decades. But by the time Lucy watched her sister’s children go to Hogwarts, they went with magical ‘computers’ and learned about maths and Muggle history, and even Squibs went to Hogwarts if they chose, learning how to use magic not with wands but with science.

           In the end, perhaps it was good that Lucy worshipped her sister. It gave her a chance to feel lonely, to feel like she didn’t belong. She was determined to never let anyone feel like that.

           And her strangest legacy? Lucy Weasley was the only student Argus Filch ever liked.

Lily Potter

           Lily loved cooking with her Daddy. From the time she was three, she stood on her own little stool and helped crack eggs, stir milk and (of course) taste everything. Daddy always asked if she was bored, or if she wanted a break, and never let her touch the oven without him watching carefully.

           He cried when she burned herself by accident when she was seven. Lily was so frightened by his tears she started crying too, and Mummy found them sitting by the oven, sobbing together with a pan of cold cookies on the floor.

           When he calmed down, Daddy explained why he didn’t want Lily to get hurt in the kitchen, or think of it as work. It was three years later when Lily met Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley, but she never forgot, and she kicked their shins before Daddy could stop her.

           Lily loved watching games with Mummy. It started when she was only a baby, and the noise she always associated with her mother was the roar of a crowd and the ‘whoosh!’ of brooms. Mummy brought her and her brothers to games when she could, and when she couldn’t they could watch them on the small sets[1], and listened intently as Mummy explained how things were playing out. She had two whole years when it was just her, Mum and Dad during the year, and Mummy brought her to almost every game. Lily became quite good at knowing when calls were good, and she cheered for both teams. Everyone was always surprised that the tiny, bubbly girl could shout as loud as Uncle Dean.

           Lily felt guilty when she realized that Mummy had stopped playing because she had kids, and she asked if she felt bad. Mummy admitted that she missed playing, but she liked her new job too, and she loved being a Mum.

           “I can always go back to playing, darling. I’d never go back to not having you and your brothers.”

           Lily loved playing with shadows with her brothers. Sometimes they teased her (and she teased them right back, and her pranks were better than theirs), but mostly they were wonderful brothers. Whenever Mum and Dad were having an adult dinner she and Albus would go in James’ room, and James would use the tiny lights Dad gave them and make shadows on the wall. Sometimes James would build little puppets, and sometimes Albus would just use his hands, but all three of them would tell a story together. When they came back to Hogwarts for vacation, it was the first thing they did together.

           Lily loved her cousins, loved her godbrother and her uncles and aunts and grandparents. She loved the ones who were gone, too, and asked for as many stories as the living could bear. She gave her love freely, because it was wonderful to love someone, to spend time doing things together and defend them against anyone who didn’t think they were the best people in the world.

           Sometimes she felt like she had too much love to give, that no matter how many people were in her heart she wasn’t loving enough.

           When she went to Hogwarts, the Hat saw that.

           “You belong with the other loyal hearts,” it said. “The ones who love and work through the bad parts no matter what. HUFFLEPUFF!”

Hugo Granger-Weasley

           Hugo did not start drawing the moment he was born, but it was a near thing.

           Hermione had all his drawings saved. They were hung around the house until the walls were full, and then they went into por-lios, as Hugo called them until he was seven. He drew everything he ever saw: family, friends, sunsets, animals…everything.

           He wasn’t very quick at it, though. Thankfully, he had a photographic memory, which served him well over the years. He was patient, drawing each line delicately, erasing again and again until it was right before moving on. The deep attention to detail startled his viewers; they saw things in his work they’ would never have noticed themselves.

           Hugo bought all his own art supplies. His parents would have bought anything he needed or wanted, but Hugo insisted from the age of six that he could pay himself. So he got an allowance from tugging weeds in the garden with Daddy and helping Mummy organize the bookshelf a new way every month. Then he would look up the best possible supplies he could get for his money, and Mummy would Apparate with him to London after work and he would carefully pick out every last piece.

           Hugo got in trouble a few times at school for not turning in his work on time, but his teachers learned that it might be late but it was brilliant work, nearly as brilliant as his art. They gave him extra time to work, and he rewarded them with diligence, spending hours in the sunny Hufflepuff common room. His grades earned him his choice of careers, and he decided to make a choice that was new, and created his own profession.

           There’d never been an artistic consulting detective before, but Hugo’s carefully drawn crime scenes and suspect profiles helped many a family recover their lost property or to bring a murderer to justice. He still found time to draw for himself and for his husband, and one of his strangest eccentricities was that he still spent hours choosing the perfect supplies, the perfect lines.

           Lives were at stake, after all, and the more attention to detail he paid, the more good he could do.

Lorcan Scamander

           Lorcan was always the big brother.

           It took him a long time to understand that his brother was ‘supposed’ to be nearer the same size as him, even longer to understand that people thought that the difference was a bad thing. There seemed to be two theories; either something was wrong with Mum and Dad, or something was wrong with Lysander. Neither option was correct, as far as Lorcan could see.

           He learned to slow down for Lys, to help him up when he asked, to glare on just this side of politeness at “well-meaning” adults. He took care of Lys, because that’s what he was supposed to do. They did everything together. Lys chose the games, and Lor played along; Lys had grand ideas. He couldn’t imagine being apart from Lys.

           Which was why it broke Lorcan’s heart when he was sorted into Ravenclaw…and two minutes later Lysander was sorted into Hufflepuff.

           Lorcan wanted to protest, but Lysander tracked him down the next morning. “You don’t need to protect me anymore, Lor,” he promised. “We’re in different houses, and that’s okay. We’ll still hang out all the time, okay?”

           Lysander kept his promise, and the first few years the twins were nearly inseparable. They couldn’t, unfortunately, switch places (people would catch on), but they pretty well only slept in their houses. They even ate at each other’s tables.

           Eventually they started making friends outside each other, and suddenly there were days that they didn’t spend together. It was okay, though, it was really okay. What wasn’t okay, Lorcan was starting to realize, was the fact that people didn’t understand that Lysander was fine and happy despite his size, and did not need help unless he asked for it.

           That realization led him down the path to being a Healer; an unusual kind, perhaps. Lorcan Scamander moved through homes for the elderly, hospitals for wizard orphans and places for people who had physical and mental disabilities. He let the patients lead their care, let them choose the games and the conversation, and listened as hard as he could. When people wanted cures, he looked for them. He and Nicky Weasley ended up working together for those who’d survived terrible curses: she provided a breakdown of the curse’s elements, he worked on the cure.

           His greatest reward came the day, two weeks before they died, when Alice and Frank Longbottom opened their eyes and recognized their son.

Lysander Scamander

           The moment he heard the Hat say “Ravenclaw!”, Lysander knew he was going to be a Hufflepuff.

           It was really all the same to him. There were no family expectations—Ravenclaw Mum, Uagadou Dad[2], Gryffindor godparents—and he knew that the House system was at least a little bit rubbish. There was no way that any one person belonged in only one place. Look at him. He enjoyed puzzles and learning, he worked hard (had to with his size) and now, as he approached the Hat, he realized he had a little bit of Slytherin in him.

           Lorcan had to have a chance to grow without him, and he needed to find his place without Lorcan. It was going to hurt; he loved his brother, and would have been happy to stay with him at home and have Mum and Dad teach them. But they were two different people, two hearts, two bodies, two futures. That was important.

           The Hat argued with him for a moment, but Lysander held firm. “I want to be somewhere other than Ravenclaw. I know I fit at least one other place.”

           “Very well,” the Hat sighed. “HUFFLEPUFF!”

           The first day of class, Lysander walked shyly into Charms. He’d never met someone his size before.

           Professor Flitwick was getting very old, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. He examined Lysander’s wand after he made a quill fly the very first day of class. “Very good for Charm work,” he mused. “I think your wand’s trying to tell you something.”

           At first Lysander resisted. He wanted to work with fantastic beasts, like Mum and Dad and Uncle Hagrid. But Charms was fun, and Professor Flitwick took him under his wing, letting him sign books out of the Restricted Section, talking to him about being a little person and even making him a teaching assistant in his sixth year, helping first years. He also told him about his former position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and as a dueler. “You can always change an open mind, lad,” he said.

           Lysander would study fantastic beasts, but not right away. First he would take a year and travel for fun, seeing beautiful wizarding places. The next year, when Professor Flitwick retired, Lysander took his place. A few people made jokes about the Charms department always being taught by ‘midgets’, and for the first time in several years Lysander let his brother punch some people for him.    

           He was busy. He had students to teach, and he wasn’t about to let his mentor down.

[1][1] Credit goes to annegirlblythe and her awesome headcanon blog (harryjamesheadcanons) for the idea of small Quidditch sets to mimic games going on in the world.

[2] Uagadou is the Wizarding school in Egypt, which serves all of Africa (see Pottermore for a few more details). I’ll expand on this in a later oneshot with Luna and Lysander, but Rolf’s mother is Egyptian, and he was raised there.

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Latest Post On https://momandkids.fun/2019/03/11/short-nonfiction-books-for-reluctant-struggling-wiggly-readers/

Short Nonfiction Books for Reluctant, Struggling, & Wiggly Readers

Struggling readers, reluctant readers, and wiggly readers all benefit from exposure to short nonfiction books. Primarily because in these books, they can jump around in their reading sequence. That means that kids can read whatever strikes their fancy in any order that they wish.

For those wiggly readers, they can take breaks in nonfiction without losing comprehension momentum.

Because reading nonfiction is a different kind of comprehension experience for the reader. Which means it’s essential that we give kids plenty of nonfiction reading practice.

Whenever I assessed my students in comprehension, almost always, their fiction comprehension was an entire year or two higher than their nonfiction comprehension. That’s because most kids read WAY more fiction than nonfiction.

Give these short nonfiction books a try with your students and children. Have fun with it! Let them read to you the parts that they find most interesting. You’re going to learn a lot.

Tips for Nonfiction Book Selection

Get books with great photographs. Seriously.  If the book has photographs, it’s much more engaging to readers. Plus, a book with borders, different colors, and colorful backgrounds appeal to young readers.

Watch text to picture ratio. If there is a ton of text crammed into a page, it’s not appealing to read. Look for books with not too many words all crammed together. Look for text boxes and blank space on the page. That’s less intimidating and way more exciting to read.

Pick something your child is interested in. I only read non-fiction books in which I’m interested in. I just cannot motivate to read the history books my husband enjoys. Same for your kids, right?

Teach features of non-fiction It’s often helpful to teach kids about the features of non-fiction books.  Unlike fiction novels, non-fiction books don’t have to be read cover to cover.  Teach kids about:

–          Table of Contents

–          Glossary

–          Index

–          Titles and headings

–          Bold words

–          Captions

–          Charts and diagrams

Start with that and let me know how it goes!

Nonfiction Books for Reluctant Readers

   The World’s Best Jokes for Kids Volume 1 by Lisa Swerling & Ralph Lazar Each of these jokes is illustrated with I really love because it gives struggling or new readers extra picture support for decoding and comprehension. This series (volume 2 is here) shares jokes that will make your kids laugh, groan, and share with all their friends. Jokes like:

Why are pirates called pirates? Because they arrrrrrr.

Why was the dog feeling sorry for himself? Because his life was so ruff.

HAHAHA!

  The Official DC Super Hero Joke Book by Michael Robin, Sarah Parvis, and Noah Smith Just in time for this summer’s DC and Marvel movies, comes a joke book to keep kids laughing and reading. If your kids are like mine, they’ll read them all aloud TO YOU. I apologize in advance. 🙂 But reading is good — and so is groaning, chortling, and giggling! Here’s a Flash joke to give you the gist: “Why does The Flash love watching science documentaries? He finds them fast-inating.”

2019 Almanac It might take a kid 100 hours to read this book. Or more. (YAY!!) The beauty of it, besides the dense content of fascinating facts, is that kids can skip around to what interests them to read at that moment. As you expect from National Geographic Kids, the layout, colors, and photographs are fantastic making the information jump out at the reader. This is a great gift for kids who love nonfiction books of facts. Or any kid actually.

Kids universally love these weird and random facts but that’s not the only awesome thing about Weird But True books…The book is so fun and interesting, it is a completely different reading experience. Why? Because there are lots of colorful photographs plus just a one sentence fact. It’s perfect to entice even the most reluctant of reader don’t you think? And, you can pick it up in the middle and don’t have to remember what happened earlier. So it doesn’t matter about what fact you read prior to learning that rats can’t burp and birds don’t sweat. It allows for a short reading experience with breaks for cartwheels.

Weird but True 8 Do your kids love the Weird But True! books as much as mine? This new edition contains 300 all-new wild and wacky facts and pictures. Want to hear a few?

The 1904 World’s Fair featured a life-sized elephant made of almonds.

Moonbow = a nighttime rainbow

Scientists found sharks living in an underwater volcano.

Octopuses have blue blood and nine brains.

From National Geographic Kids, this book is dense, colorful, and info-packed. It’s almost too busy for my tastes but I’m old — kids like this style. I like the writing a lot — it’s kid-appropriate while sticking to the basics of each myth. Because know that much of the Greek myths aren’t always g or pg (think violence and sex) so I really appreciate the lack of TMI in this book!

Other Weird But True Books:

Totally Wacky Facts About History by Cari Meister This reminds me of the Strange But True books only about history and from a different publisher. And, I LOVE IT! This little book makes history interesting to kids — it’s filled with colorful photos and illustrations and yes, wacky facts. Here are a few to get you started:

Early Chinese spies flew on large kites to gather information about their enemies.

Ancient Romans were the first to record seeing UFOs. 

Napoleon suffered from ailurophobia. that means he was afraid of cats. 

Crazy cool, right? It makes you want to know more!

5,000 Awesome Facts (About Everything!) 3 If you like LOTS of facts, packed together for your detailed reading pleasure, you’ll like this gigantic book about cool topics such as bubble gum and ice cream to the outer space and the North Pole! Great for curious kids who love to be the trivia expert in the family.

Gorgeous photos and interesting facts make this one of those books you can easily flip through to find the photos and interesting facts about young animals that you want to read. Plus, the cuteness factor is off the charts.

Will the fossilized dino poop entice you to read this book? It just might help you turn the pages to learn more about dinosaurs. The book is well-organized and informative with full color, glossy pages and kid-friendly layouts making it a good choice for elementary school dinosaur fans.

Bet You Didn’t Know: Fascinating, Far-out, Fun-tastic Facts by National Geographic This is like the Weird But True books only not as short. You’ll look at full color, incredible photographs and read cool facts and stats about tons of things — hearts, sea creatures, chocolate, and Halloween. It’s un-put-downable! Like did you know this– “The FDA allows up to  8 insect parts in the average chocolate bar“? Or that “Some giant jellyfish have tentacles that could stretch one-third the length of a football field.” Also, “Chiroptophobia is the fear of bats.” Don’t you think your kids would like this?

100 Things to Be When You Grow Up by National Geographic Some kids change their mind every few weeks about what job they want to do when they grow up — but imagine what they would do if they only knew ALL the possible jobs! Because I don’t think even grown-ups know about some of these 100 jobs. This book shares the details about 100 really cool jobs along with gorgeous photographs (of course). And, it’s all presented in a very kid-friendly way. (Of course.) I’m giving this book to both my kids because I think they’ll be excited to learn about these unusual jobs: pet food taster, perfumer, crossword puzzle writer, ice sculptor, and movie trailer editor. Wouldn’t your kids?

Get schooled with this fascinating book about animals. It focuses on the how and why these animals move as well as cool facts. For example, did you know the gnu moves in a zigzag pattern when in danger and kicks up a dust storm when it spars? Ultimately, this is great for reluctant and struggling readers as well as all kids who would love reading bite-sized facts about animals.

Each section of information begins with a question like “How do you find fossils” then answers the question asked using text, photographs, and informational inserts. Dinosaur fans will be excited to learn just how scientists find, store, study, and figure out more about the dinosaurs they study — all from the bones. Ultimately, clear information with enticing photographs makes this an excellent choice for dinosaur and science enthusiasts.

The World’s Strangest Predators Top 40 Weird and Wonderful Carnivorous Critters Do you know about predators? You might be surprised to learn that #40 on the list is the short-tailed shrew — a tiny terror with venom glands who is a predator to frogs and mice. Learn more about weird predators in this unique book that includes the Tasmanian devil, tentacled snake (so gross), pirate spider, and #1 — the honey badger! And to think I thought honey badgers only ate honey.

Worlds Strangest Creepy-Crawlies Top 40 Weird and Wonderful Hair-Raising Bugs Big, bold text and huge color photographs catch your attention immediately starting with #40, the elephant beetle and ending with #1, the exploding ant. Huh!? Yes. An ant from Malaysia explodes and dies — yikes — making it #1 for strangest creepy crawly. Each featured bug gets a 1- or 2-page spread including important facts, a habitat map, photographs, and ratings on the “strangeometer” for creepiness, superpowers, bug beauty, and fight factor. Irresistible!

Welcome!

Download my “Can’t Put ‘Em Down” book lists for your kids ages 3 – 13.

Also, I’ll send you a bonus “23 Reasons to Read” printable poster!

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Dearest Treasure

Dearest Treasure

A Jack Casey and Kiiryon short story

 It was always so terribly warm and humid.

The summers warm breeze carried the scent of young grass and berries that tantalized the senses. Trees rustled with their leaves swaying and dancing in merriment to the harsh sun--how happy were they to be little models of stained green, glass. Birds sang with hearts swelling in adoration for the long days and short nights. The grasshoppers played their fiddles to the canter of fluffy white clouds, and the brook babbled to the fish with gossips they overheard by the chatty squirrels.

Nature was alive!

From the waking embrace of glittered morning dew, to the waning yawn of the sun's last stretched rays, the countryside that edged a dear little town, was awake. Frogs came to hum their tired groans, and the toads joining in with their baritone. Stars peeked and winked their vibrant eyes while the flowers curled and coiled to their beds. Despite the gentle jazz of crickets playing and the hushed whisper of waking owls. There was a hum of tempting invitations that could capture and contain the vigor of youth and wild imagination. It was clear, that nature was never at rest. And it was on the same well worn path through the bordering wood, that a dear little boy ran with his heart content. Fear did not cling to him. How could he be afraid, when his heart was near the seams of bursting in elation?

It was the beginning of summer.

There was no school to be had--and if he recalled from his wise and older brother, it was the time that fireflies were ready to be caught. After-all, he did go through the trouble of rummaging through his mother's dusty cabinet for a prized glass bottle or old jam jar. Never mind the thought having crossed his mind to dig into the neighbor's trash like a little raccoon for the prize he so proudly clutched in his hands. Jack Casey was on a mission! He would gather as many fireflies as he could hold, and bring his triumph back home. Treasure of course, in the form of flickering little orbs bouncing about inside his little jar. Fireflies.

Despite the calming embrace of nature’s last golden hour, his heart beat so quickly. It was almost time! Soon, they would be out, and soon.. The hunt would begin. Again listening to the wise words of his dear older brother, Jack approached a hedge. A hedge known for containing those little golden bugs. And with a soft gasp and wide eyed smile, a shudder of excitement paralyzed the little boy with the first winking flicker of gold to drunkenly bobble and bounce out from the hedge.  

It was time!

Soon in a trickling follow, did more fireflies emerge and waltz about in their finest dress of glittering gold. Swaying and fluttering out to taunt and strut their vivid light, did the fireflies dance and meander around Jack. Lips licked and pulled back, the little boy turned his wrist and with a sweep brandish of the lid removed, readied himself to be the brave adventurer, and capture his treasure.

Bouncing and leaping with the vitality of a cat, Jack Casey panted and giggled with merriment as he outsmarted and even dared with a challenging squint to be defied in his capture of the fireflies. Too and fro did he and the little balls of gold tango in their battle of outsmarting one another. Till he was panting with bright eyes and sweaty palms. But, it was within his palms that he held his finest treasure. His fireflies. He did it! All on his own and with his own coy trickery to help him out. How proud his brother would be!

Jack Casey--firefly capture extraordinaire!

His heart beat so loudly--so proudly in his chest! Yet he was not deaf to the little twinkle and minuet of the fireflies in his jar. Eyes so deep and innocent were wide in wonderment. Reflecting and mirroring the bright pulsing gold of his well earned treasure. He held the jar so close, to his cheek and could swear for just a moment, he heard the march of a music box in such jubilant celebration for his victory.  Oh how tenderly Jack cradled the jar within his hands.

How enraptured he was to ignore the raven who starred and the sudden halt of cricket fanfare.

“What a treasure you have there.”

A gasp and clutch to his jar, Jack held his glowing prize to his heart.

“It’s my treasure!” pouted the little boy. Quickly, he looked around to find the curious tilt of the raven who had stood before him. How long had the bird watched him? If he recalled the wise words of his older brother-- such birds were attracted to shiny things. This was proven multiple times to little Jack Casey as his brother left little coin of silver to be taken away by the ravens. He always wondered why his brother who was so wise, did such an odd thing and was only ever told; ‘Because how else will they buy their bread?’ .

“This isn’t for bread!”

A pause.

“This isn’t even money! It’s my finest treasure!” amended Jack with a proud smile.

“And what a fine treasure it is Little one. “ If he recalled--which the little boy did, his wise older brother never told him ravens could talk. Perhaps, this is how he knew that they needed coin for bread. The voice that spoke to him was of course not what he imagined for a raven! It was so… deep and playful, very mature and it must have been a mister.

“Well yes it is a fine treasure! I outsmarted the fireflies on my own Mister Raven!” announced Jack with another wide smile and hug of the jar to his chest to which he nuzzled too fondly.

“My-- what a brave human you are.” came the awed tone of voice. A tone that suddenly felt so warm and so near.

 Knelt before him, with an embellished hand to rest upon a rather dark and mature knee was a man with wild ruddy hair. His attire was a rather curious collection of blacks and baubles of silver and stone. Gems and gold and the oddest set of pouches and knick-knacks. But the oddest feature of all to Jack was not those eyes of golden tone--but the rather long and tipped shape of pointed ears. A kind smile adorned the mans tattooed face and much too similar did the man give a curious tilt of his head. Where did the Raven go?

Jack Casey was left in silence. His brother, who was so wise in knowledge, always bequeathed the advice of never speaking to strangers. Lips pursed and teeth digging into the bottom of his lip, the little boy clutched dearly to his jar but dared not to move or break his curious stare--for he was indeed a courageous boy and wouldn’t be otherwise! How strange it was, as he stared at the strange man before him that he heard the gentle twinkle and chatter of a music box to tickle his ear.

A snort and chuckle of the man before him, shifting his weight and falling back into the pooling mass of black that hung against his body to sit. “Aah--so you hear it too, don’t you?” The strange man smiled so proudly and hummed along to the little ditty that seemed to permeate from the jar in his tiny hands.

“You aren’t human, are you.”

A shake of the head and a taunting smile was all Jack was granted.

Shoulders sagged and a heavy sigh was left from his lips. Well-- strangers were animals too, and if Jack remembered well, he could talk to animals and even pet them if he didn’t know them! It was people that he couldn’t talk to--and if he assumed right, the man before him had confessed to not being human. Therefore, he was perhaps really a Raven; the raven before him precisely and that meant that he could talk to him. Jack Casey smiled, again his chest swelling with his triumph in being so wise--maybe even like his older brother. He could talk to the ‘man’ before him! Right? “But this isn’t money--I can’t help you buy bread.” his little brows furrowed in being helpless to the strange man.

“Is it not money I desire. Perhaps if you share your treasure with me? I am not as cunning as you Little one. You outsmarted such tricky creatures.”

Again Jack Casey began to pout. Little worn leather shoes scuffed into the ground as he held his jar. It was  his treasure. Yet, he did have plenty… And if he recalled--which he did. His older and far wiser brother did tell him that sharing often left good things behind.

“Okay…” he muttered with a small puff. “But be quick! I’ll only give you one--and if you can’t keep a good hold of it, it’s not my fault!” harrumphed little Jack Casey.

Sitting up, the strange man had come prepared. Outstretched in his embellished hand, slender fingers clutched to a glass bottle of his own. A bottle just the right size for a firefly or two.

Turning the lid and tipping the open jar towards the bottle with a little shake, Jack sacrificed just one piece of his dearest treasure. Swiftly, the strange man with tipped ears withdrew his hand, and clutched the bottle to his chest with a proud smile of his own. Jack Casey had to admit--it did feel nice to share and to see someone who too could appreciate the efforts of possessing a firefly. It wasn’t foolish at all! He wasn’t foolish at all… He would prove to tonight even, by showing off his dear treasure to his brother.

. . .

How it came to be, Jack Casey was unsure. Yet here he sat, content in his seat on the porch with drink sweating in his hand from the warm summer night. Head tilted back, and hat abandoned to rest against his knee. His dear nieces had gotten their eventual badgering wish to be visited again and brought into company with his even more enigmatic companion, ‘Miss Kay.’

A small smile played at his lips whilst he watched Cora and Charlotte gather fireflies into their hands, hoping to catch one and peak as its little embering glow before releasing them like wishes to the wind.

Kay, whom was dressed in a simple and deary, aged english dress of grey smiled so endearing--in the manner of being mysterious that caused Jack to shudder with faint nerves. His companion surely wouldn’t hurt the children that were so deeply enamored with ‘her’?

“My, how cunning you two are, to capture such tricky creatures.” came a taunting lilt.

Laughter rang in his ears, and bright and proud smiles were etched into his gaze, and yet, Jack Casey felt the world around him slow, and his brows furrow in a longing tug that so eerily crept up his spine.

“Of course!” cried Charlotte with a pant. “Nothing gets past us Miss Kay!” yelped Cora in a hurray--both little girls so proud.

His throat felt dry. The burning drizzle of whiskey down his throat did little to cure his thirst and clear his thrumming mind.

“Will you share your treasure with me?” begged his companion to the little girls with a teasing smile.

Ruddish hair pulled into a messy bun that hid tipped ears; slender hands that were hugged by finely sewn sleeves of grey, reached out patiently to his dear little nieces. A curious tilt of the head and expectant hum of satisfaction were the sight, Jack was left to behold as ‘Kay’ waited for a cut of the prize. It came so swiftly to him, in a haze. But swift nonetheless… A proud smile, the narrow of those strange golden eyes, and the departing gift left behind to him, of a tiny jar that was promised to contain the dust of a crushed star that had fallen from the heavens. A fine treasure to be traded with for his own little kind gesture. A fallen wishing star. For the proud treasure from a young boy.

“Uncle Jack!” cried Cora in glee. Of course, it wasn’t just the startle of a vibrant voice to wake him from his stupor, but also the cold splash of whiskey to his thigh.

“Oh! Ah-haa.. heya’ Cora--Charlotte. Somethin’ da mattah?”

It was Charlotte who giggled with a shake of her head to mimic her sister before showing open palms to their dear uncle. “Miss Kay gave us some star candy for helping her catch fireflies!”

“Would you like some?” both girls offered in unison, excitement clear on their expressions. A sharp inhale and tense of the shoulders had Jack glancing from the candy, past bright faces, to the intent stare and knowing smile of his ever so enigmatic companion, whom sat so proudly.

Head held high, and eyes of golden hue, glowing and pinched in a mirth and playful hum of a twinkling tone, whilst clutching the treasure of fireflies ever so tenderly to their chest in a familiar sort of manner.

The End.

[sly-punk1712]

Raising Clint Barton

Part 1

PART 2

PART 3

There wasn’t a thing on the entire damn planet that made him feel better than Nat. Even from the moment Coulson had picked them up. His favorite agent was giving the pair of them the cold shoulder, but Natalia was there providing a heat to his entire left side where she was seated poised as can be on the edge of a chair. Then she let her leg rest against his as he softly started telling Coulson everything. She would press her leg into his when his voice got soft and he started to falter. Telling Elliot had been a rush to tell. Excitement and discovery. Natalia had been nerve racking for other reasons. Both confessions were to strangers. but this was so much worse, so revealing, too personal maybe? Coulson didn’t interrupt or speak until the end of Clint’s explanation. Clint finished telling him everything and was praying he believed him like the others had. Coulson was a different animal than Elliot and Natalia. 

“I’ve got some friends in New York that might have some answers.” Coulson says finally. “Thank you for telling me.” His tone is soft and Clint wonders if he’s angry. 

His friends are the Charles Xavier and Hank McCoy. They run lots of tests on Clint and Natalia but the walkabouts are no mutation. and Natalia’s DNA is so warped they can’t really tell left from up. Coulson spends a few moments talking to the two professor’s while Natalia gets a phone number from a cigar smoking mutant that promises her a wild time if she gets any sorta leash at SHIELD. Natalia’s satisfied smile has Clint smiling a little too. Already making friends. hopefully she didn’t live up to her moniker. Black Widow. He chuckled. Coulson joins them and they’re headed back to DC.

“Charles tells me we’ve got a lot to talk about. “ He’s silent for a moment before clearing his throat. “

Asset doesn’t mean what you think it means Clint. “ It’s the first time in a long time Clint can remember hearing Coulson say his name.

“SHIELD doesn’t own you. I don’t” He pauses. “I want to be friends. I want to work with you two.” He adds also speaking to Natalia. 

“We can do that” Clint shrugs. Coulson’s shoulders sag in relief. “Just be honest with us and We’ll be honest with you” He looks at Natalia and is glad she gives a curt nod. 

“I’m glad you came home Clint” Coulson holds out his hand and pulls Clint into his arms for a tight but brief hug. Clint is in heaven. 

****************************

The three of them spend the next few years becoming SHIELD’s best strike team. The United State’s best Strike team to be honest Coulson, himself and Nat, who’s now going by Natasha, often get loaned out to handle things beyond other agency’s capabilities. Their work puts SHIELD not only on the map but with the best databases the world has to offer. 

Coulson doesn’t badger Clint about walkabouts and takes his soul spotting into advisement. Clint doesn’t mention that he can’t see Coulson’s soul. Coulson let’s most things Clint and Natasha get up to slide. Natasha see’s Logan almost every weekend they’re not on a mission. So as a result Clint sees a lot of Logan. It doesn’t bother him and must not worry the mutant too much because he let’s Clint curl into bed with him and Natasha every night after they finish fucking. They don’t ask him to join and he doesn’t want to. They seem contented. Wild and Dangerous but good.

Coulson let’s Clint sleep anytime he can. No matter what job he’s supposed to do be doing, because the reality of it is Clint is never unaware of what’s going on. Other SHIELD operatives don’t like it as much when Clint takes to napping in their offices. Clint loves the startled double take the office admin do when they find him curled under the desk in their cubicles snoozing. The complaints get to annoy Coulson and Clint learns of his love of air vents instead. The complaints are many and detailed but Clint steals the reports from Coulson’s box most mornings before he can read half of them. 

Vent stalking is what gets them sent to New Mexico minus Natasha who gets to go play Malibu with Tony Stark. How was Clint to know Fury could see every spitball he shot at Hill’s back during that debrief. They were coming form the ceiling for goodness sake he thought he was safe! But even tho they’re getting separated and a lame ass job Coulson privately tells him his grouping was excellent. 

Phil spends a lot of time officially telling them boring reprimands and such and unofficially telling them his real thoughts. He never mentions the brief hug or Clint’s desire for him. It’s awful. Clint doesn’t mention it either, He knows what it’s like to be called on by someone you don’t want and could never bear the thought of making a move on Coulson that would make the handler uncomfortable. That’s the official reason he gives himself. Nat and Logan say it’s because he’s a coward. and well, that’s true too.

New Mexico is a weird haze of bizarre-o he hopes Coulson will bury so deep he gets out of all the paperwork. Firstly Thor, or “Donald Blake”. His little B&E stunt, his general descriptiveness, his cute little science friends, his not as cute Asgardian death robot and possibly most confusingly his completely White light soul. Clint never seen souls that matched besides gray and black. This white pulls his mind back to an underpass almost two decades ago. He feels old, tired and confused. Then in a swirl of magic tornado the blond is gone before Clint can get answers.

Darcy Lewis however is not gone. Clint meets her for the first time when he’s awake and knows without sleeping she’s going to be incredibly important in his life. 

For all intents and purposes she’s the exact opposite of him. She’s well educated, comes from a good home. she laughs too much and loves to freely. She’s all curves and knitwear and he’s hard lines and military battle gear. But he notices her anyway as she runs mid battle back toward the danger into town. 

Clint sees her out of the corner of his eye, swears and runs after her. She was headed in the direction of danger but ducks into a building just shy of the chaos. Clint doesn’t have time to decide if she’s safe or if he needs to go after her because she’s running back out followed by a herd of animals. It was the pet shop. She’d run headlong into an intergalactic battle for a pet shop. He’s wide awake but he wonders what colour this sweet soul will be. 

After the battle Darcy finds Clint at the bar, one of the few buildings left standing. It’s packed on account of today’s events. When she enters the bar a cheer goes up. 

“It’s Pet Shop girl!” Someone shouts and a large portion of the townsfolk at the bar raise a glass to her. Clint chuckles at the tipsy antics and raises his glass too. Darcy spots him and floats threw the people to shimmy onto the stool beside him. 

“So how was your day dear?” She jokes. Clint snorts and admires how Darcy seems to lounge on the stool like it was a sofa instead of a rickety, in need of reupholstering, stool. 

“Good met a pretty girl. She’s a hero, saved some pets” He grins back. Flirting with Darcy is easy and Clint can’t remember when’s the last time he felt so complete. Natasha is a piece of his soul, like a missing link that fits into his chain. Darcy makes him warm all over and want to hum. 

They drink until closing time and then walk to Darcy’s trailer together. 

“Come to bed Clint” She invites. Clint obeys. It’s weird that they don’t fuck but he likes that she just wants to lay soft kisses on his arms and chest and settle down for sleep. 

He’s right. She’s an orange that takes his breath away. She’s that burnt sun color as the day fades into night. Every breath she takes makes the colour shine brighter and mix with his purple. They don’t match by any stretch of the imagination but somehow he feels more right in her arms than he ever has. 

They wake up before the sunrises and then they fuck. Only it’s not like any sex Clint’s ever had before. It’s sharper somehow more real. He presses into Darcy over and over until at the very end of it, his mind flashes to the Orange color of her soul. It’s renewal, the way the days fade into each other. Ending yesterdays mistakes. It’s the natural order of things on earth. He feels like this is his first time really making love and all those other times wash away from his heart, dripping off his soul and down in face in the form of hot tears. Darcy doesn’t mind he cries and he loves her even more for it. 

Coulson calls and he leaves Darcy to go report for work. She gives him a knowing smile from where she lays naked in bed as he gets dressed and Clint’s glad to know she won’t make it a big deal and doesn’t mind he’s leaving to go back to Coulson. He tells her he is, Just in case. 

“That’s okay Clint. I’m happy for you.” She says earnestly. Clint believes her and walks away feeling completely satisfied. 

***********************

“So what now?” Natasha’s head is resting on his stomach while he tells her all about his encounter with Darcy. Her legs are stretched over Logan’s torso and he’s running his large hands gently up and down her smooth legs. Clint wonders if her DNA refuses to let her grow leg hair he’s never seen her shave.

“I don’t know but I feel good, Nat. Like so good” He admits contentedly. “Maybe I’ll ask Coulson out. Feel good enough now. “ He mutterers. Natasha pokes him sharply in the side rolling on to her side to look up at him. 

“Lewis doesn’t have a magic vagina. You didn’t sleep with an all healing pussy. You were always worth it. Always enough” She snaps. Clint feels a little foolish and remorseful he said that out loud. Its how he feels but he hates to bring up that stuff with Nat, She doesn’t tolerate self hate. Well from anyone but herself, she’s the Queen of Self-Pity but even that’s in a strong bad-ass assassin way.

“Plus is Coulson really gonna wanna hear you finally got yer head outta yer ass by boning a steamy brunette?” Logan points out. Clint chuckles. No that probably wouldn’t be best, but Selfish Clint knows how easy it would be to roll into Coulson with all these good feelings he’s still feeling. Start at the top of a crescendo. 

Suddenly going to Coulson right now feels sour in his gut. He doesn’t want to bring Darcy high to Coulson for the first time. He wants to bring just himself. He wants to drag in Clint Barton and offer it up for Coulson’s approval, acceptance,  His love. 

“I get it. I needed Darcy and you Nat,” Clint rests a hand on Natasha’s head. “But I don’t need Coulson to be me. I want Coulson. and that’s why it’s better right?” Natasha’s eyes widen a fraction and she smiles. 

“Maybe it was a magical Pussy, it cured your stupid” She presses and kiss to Clint’s belly as he laughs.

[the-moon-and-stars-my-love]

ALL OF THEM

You  h e a t h e n  goodness gracious Meg

Putting it under a cut because it’s long lol 

Castle- What does the word ‘home’ mean to you?

This is what home means to me.

Sorting Hat- If you could give one inanimate object sentience, What object would you choose?

Uhhh, maybe my mirror. So I can have an on the spot opinion about how I look for rps xD

Kitchens- Describe your perfect meal.

Answered :)

Chamber- Where do you go to be alone?

My room. Sometimes I take a walk.

Tower- Are you afraid of heights?

Kind of? Not enough to make me scared of roller coasters or flying though.

Staircase- Do you get lost easily?

Lol yeah sometimes. It can be a Problem.

Sword- Have you ever been in a fight?

Not a physical fight.

Cup- Do you like to cook?

Yup!

Diadem- What is the most useless class you had in school?

This class that was both a mix of “life lessons” and religion because it we were the guinea pig class so they didn’t actually have anything set for it.

Locket- Have you ever kept a secret from your friends?

Yeah.

Godric- Have you ever faced a fear?

Answered :)

Rowena- What is something you have always wanted to learn?

Languages. I just really love them.

Helga- What/who are you loyal to?

Anyone who earns it and returns the loyalty.

Salazar- If you could speak to only one species of animal, what animal would you choose?

Cats.

Wild Moor- How long have you known your best friend?

Four or five months? Give or take? If you’re wondering, yes, it’s my qpps and platonic Lily

Glen- Have you ever caught somebody lying to you? What did you do?

Yeah. I just didn’t bring it up. I can be pretty bad at confrontation. I just knew they had lied and well…yeah.

Valley Broad- What is your favorite midnight snack?

Peanut butter.

Fen- Do you have a pet peeve that only seems to bother you and nobody else?

I feel like there’s plenty of people who don’t like the squeaking of mechanical pencils.

Lion- Do you think you are physically strong?

lololol no I have string bean arms xD

Eagle- What was the last book you read; How was it?

The Lysistrata for one of my classes. It was…something else. Definitely really funny.

Badger-  Excluding romantic love, when was the last time you told someone you loved them? Who was it?

Answered :)

Serpent-  Think of the last person who you really knew that died. You have the chance to give them 1 hour of life back, but you have to give one year of your life. Do you?

Of course.

[razieltwelve]

Multiply (Final Rose)

Diana tilted her head to one side. She’d taken Strangles for his usual slither around the park. There were plenty of frogs around, and the river that cut through the park was also home to plenty of fish. There were even a series of ponds that were filled with their own wildlife, so there was lots of food around if Strangles was feeling peckish.

On this particular occasion, though, Strangles had drawn her attention to another grass snake. Now, most people would have struggled to tell a male and female snake apart, but Diana wasn’t most people. She knew immediately that the other grass snake was a female, perhaps a few years younger than her middle-aged snake.

“Oh?” Diana kept her distance as Strangles slithered over to the other snake and postured. It was different from the usual posturing he did whenever they ran into another snake on one of their little jaunts. A younger Diana might have wondered why, but Diana was old enough now to understand that her snake was getting to that point in life when he was considering have children of his own.

After all, her snake had it good. He had his own home. In fact, he had several if she counted his enclosures at home, in her dorm room, and at the lab. He also had steady access to ample food, and he never had to worry about security because if a predator even looked at her snake funny, she was going to kill it. Of course, Strangles was also in good shape. She wasn’t going to let her snake become so pampered that he became unhealthy. Instead, Strangles got frequent trips to the park and other areas to hone his hunting skills, and she’d even invented a simulator program that let him practice against foes of all kinds.

Her snake was a 10/10 snake. He was smart, handsome, rich, and had a great personality. What wasn’t there to love from a snake perspective? Still, she’d keep an eye on him. Grass snakes tended to mate for life, and they could produce quite a few offspring if conditions were right. It would be another decade or so before Strangles reached the end of his life, but the thought him leaving behind descendants was a soothing one.

No snake would ever be able to replace him, but she’d still love any son or daughter he produced. But what would she call them? Strangles Jr might work for the oldest one, but they could have clutches containing as many as 25  eggs. In the wild, not all of them would be able to survive despite grass snakes caring for their young. However, under her protection, she was confident that any snake that hatched would be fine. 

After a great deal more posturing, Strangles and the lady snake went off to the nearest pond to let him demonstrate his prowess. He didn’t disappoint, capturing a frog and a fish in quick succession and presenting them to the other snake for approval. Given how quickly she devoured both, he must have passed that test.

There was more posturing, what sounded like a discussion, and then Strangles slithered over with the other snake. He looked at her expectantly.

“Really?” Diana had always had a sixth sense for what her snake wanted. It wasn’t as easy as communicating with a chocobo. Chocobos could basically use Aura to make themselves clearly understood to those they were close to. Strangles couldn’t do that. Instead, what she got were feeling and emotions. Combined with some genetic templates she’d picked up and developed, however, she could piece together what he wanted. “That quickly? Wow. Things really are simpler for a snake.”

The lady snake, who Diana was already mentally referring to as Mrs Strangles, had apparently agreed to go with him after he had explained his situation and proven himself. Life in the park could be dicey, what with all the cats, dogs, and people wandering around, and for a female grass snake, the most important thing was that the male could provide a safe home that would allow them to raise any young they had in comfort and security.

“Well, I guess that’s that.” Diana reached down to pick up both snakes. Strangles settled into his usual place around her neck like a scarf while the female snake coiled around her left arm, near her shoulder. “But, hey, I got another snake. That’s pretty cool.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

One of the key differences between reptiles on Remnant and reptiles on Earth is that almost all reptiles on Remnant care for their young to some extent. Strangles and his mate would likely care for any young they have for at least a few months before sending them on their way. Remnant’s environment can be so hostile that simply releasing young into the wild at birth is a recipe for extinction. In the case of grass snakes on Remnant, they typically mate for life, seeking out areas where it is safe and where food is plentiful and then staying there as long as possible, often for their entire lives. 

Since grass snakes are not venomous, they must instead rely on evasion or intelligence to handle predators. Grass snakes are typically preyed upon by certain species of mammals (e.g., badgers and foxes), so they will actually try to nest in areas where rodents and other smaller mammals are common. Not only do these smaller species provide food but they are also relatively easy prey, meaning the predators that target grass snakes will instead go after them since they are easier to kill than a grass snake.

Much like their Earth counterpart, grass snakes release a substance when caught. This substance is foul-smelling and is a powerful irritant that will often leave predators unable to see or smell properly for hours, possibly even days. As a result, few predators will got after a grass snake if there is easier prey to be had (e.g., mice).

Although grass snakes are seldom kept as pets in Diana’s time, they are generally looked upon positively by farmers, ranchers, and other people who make their living off the land. This is because they deal with vermin and are not harmful to humans or livestock. Sazh has several groups of grass snake’s living on his property, and they are all smart enough to leave chocobo chicks alone, choosing instead to focus on vermin. 

As for Strangles, this is where his descendants come from. Indeed, Strangles has descendants all the way into the distant future, with many of them serving with distinction on farms, ranches, and other such places in the future. 

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here.

[componentplanet]

Why the Best Super Bowl Commercials Were All Cars and Tech

Super Bowls used to mean Tom Brady hoisting another trophy along with ads of polar bears drinking Coke on not-yet-melting polar ice caps, that and the Budweiser Clydesdales. Now the most memorable – sorry, memorably good – commercials are cars and tech. Car ads have always been part of the 54 Super Bowls, but in the dotcom boom years “tech ad” meant money frittered away. Remember Pets.com? Agillon? Epidemic.com? All goners. Maybe automakers did a better job because there really are differences among cars. And the tech guys have learned from the money-wasting days at the turn of the century.

Here are the best car and tech ads of Super Bowl 54 (that’s LIV for traditionalists) along with some that didn’t click quite as well, and the best non-tech ad. We’re linking to ads from places (mostly, automaker sites on YouTube) that don’t have ads in front of them because why should you pay (with your time) to see an advertisement in order to see an ad?

The Best Ads: Hyundai Sonata, Jeep Gladiator

Hyundai Sonata Smaht Pahk. Two car ads stood out. The Hyundai Sonata spot for Smaht Pahk was the winner because it was funny, it made fun of a socio-economic group you can always make fun (people from Boston, especially since New England departed the playoffs early), and most of all because it is going to sell Hyundai Sonatas. The Sonata is the most important new car of 2020 (see our review), it is the Extreme Tech Car of the Year, and it’s loaded with standard safety features, virtually all of which are on the base, $26,000 Sonata SE. The top-line  Sonata Limited, $34,000, includes Remote Smart Parking Assist, now being called Smart Park. Hop out, press the keyfob, and the Sonata pahks itself at Hahvahd Yahd, and backs out when you return. If you have a narrow garage in Back Bay or Chahlston, you don’t have to squeeze in and out inside the garage.

Too many Super Bowl commercials are ad agency spitting matches using client money to prove who’s more clever, with less thought given to whether the ad sells the product. The “Smaht Pahk” ad will do just that: Get customers to consider Sonata, and realize a mainstream car includes important new technology.

Jeep / Groundhog Day. This is the other spot that rose above the rest. Bill Murray reprised the 1993 movie Groundhog Day, this time in a Jeep Gladiator, the truck of the year in several autowriter / magazine competitions. It’s funny, it’s nostalgic, and if you don’t know Jeep makes a pickup truck in Punk’n Metallic orange paint and the doors and top come off (you do it yourself), now you do.

The concept of Groundhog Day the movie is weatherman Bill Murray is caught in an endless time loop that restarts each day when he wakes at 6 am to Sonny and Cher’s I Got You Babe, and has to again cover Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. It’s faithfully recreated in the ad, except no Andie McDowell this time. And to Jeep’s good fortune, the 2020 Super Bowl was played on Feb. 2, Groundhog Day. Appreciating this spot probably helped if you’re old enough to remember the movie from when it was in theaters. But if not, you should, since it’s in the National Film Registry for being deemed “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.”

Amazon Before Alexa. Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi ponder what life was like before Amazon Alexa. The spot borders on slapstick: An 1800s upper-class woman in the parlor tells the maid, “Alexxa, turn the temperature down, two degrees,” the maid takes a log off the fire, tosses it through the window to the sound of shattering glass and a man’s muffled scream. A man in an 1800s city asks the newsboy, “Alex, what’s today’s news?” and he responds, “It doesn’t matter. It’s all fake.” Then in a 1970s Oval Office scene, a Nixon-esque voice commands, “Alicia, remind me to delete those tapes.” In the next room, an admin says loudly, “Yes, Mister President,” then softly, “I ain’t deletin’ …”

Conservatives are probably fuming if they conclude the “fake news” line makes fun of rather than echoes the current administration (hmm, who runs Amazon?), and liberals find it fair recompense for sitting through a patriotism-heavy, pre-game show that did conclude with a touching moment when four 100-year-old World War II veterans took part in the pre-game coin toss, led by Charles McGee, a pilot with the Tuskegee Airman that battled both the Germans and racism.

  Google / Loretta. An old man reminisces about his life with Loretta through old pictures Google calls up, along with a clip from their favorite movie, Casablanca. If there’s a “when they cry, they buy” ad, this is it. It’s going to make everybody wish their parents scanned or at least saved and ID’d their favorite photos for you to scan. Not in the commercial but important to know is that face recognition is getting so good – too good, in China – that the thing that used to hard to do, figuring out who that is in a 50-year-old photo, can now be done automagically.

Old Luxury (Going Away Party) / Genesis. Hyundai’s Genesis division rolled out its first SUV, the GV80, using young and hip Chrissy Teigen and John Legend as they make their escape from old people, oddly shaped dogs, and an old-world mansion into the GV80. From the staircase, she looks down and says, “To old luxury: You had a good run but now it’s time to choose you up a little bit … I give you young luxury.” Teigen then gestures to the open courtyard doors and points to the GV80 that – oops – hasn’t yet pulled up (“Where were you?” she asks driver Legend. “It was supposed to be a thing and you made it not a thing.”)

Never mind that Audi did essentially the same ad – “Old Luxury” (even the same name) – in a 2011 Super Bowl commercial. In this case, yuppie inmates inhabit a faux luxury prison (a mansion in LA) filled with affluent Boomers / Millennials. They unlock the cell bars and make their way toward a waiting car. A guard releases the dogs (showy hounds). When that doesn’t work, he’s ordered, “Hit ’em with the Kenny G,” and as Songbird plays, some refuse to leave while others do. Two escapees make it the courtyard, a Mercedes pulls up (you see the tri-star hood emblem) and one says, “Lancaster, no, it’s a trap,” and Lancaster replies, “Nonsense, my father owned one.”

But the theme works, and has for ages, going back at least to 1988 and “Not your father’s Oldsmobile.” Actually, it doesn’t always work. America’s oldest car brand, the brainchild of Barney Olds, was killed off in 2004.

The Other Car / Tech Ads

Porsche did a creditable job with “The Heist”: The Porsche Taycan EV sports car is spirited out of the Porsche Museum in Stuttgart. Once the heist is discovered, the guards argue / squabble over who drives which museum Porsche to track down the Taycan. That gives the viewer a chance to appreciate Porsche’s storied history and possibly begin to realize the Taycan is a continuation of Porsche history, not a bunch of greenies gone mad. The voices were a bit muffled, especially if you were watching the game with noisy friends, and works much better played on a PC with closed captions running.

A Toyota Highlander ad showed the car does indeed have a lot of room as the driver – 20 years ago this would have been a soccer mom commercial – picks up various people in comic distress from various scenes, ending with her son.

A third Hyundai group (Hyundai, Genesis, Kia) ad was for the upcoming Kia Seltos but more about the inspirational story of Oakland Raiders rookie Josh Jacobs and hard times growing up. It left some people wonder what Seltos is. Answer: The same platform as the subcompact and well-established Hyundai Kona, a bit roomier inside, and shipping this quarter.

T-Mobile and Verizon touted 5G service, which is still a ways off. T-Mobile used Anthony Anderson’s real-life, sassy, talky mom. Verizon essentially said that without 5G, emergency responders won’t get their job done as well.

Microsoft, whose Surface tablets are universally used (mandated) by the NFL, told the story of Katie Sowers, an assistant coach of the San Francisco 49ers. It’s a true story of perseverance and success, but the story was already being told in the two-week run-up to the Big Game.

Audi had an eTron Sportback spot run late in the evening after the kids were in bed, so they missed Maisie Williams singing “Let It Go” from Frozen.

GMC touted the rebirth of the Hummer as an EV in an ad with LeBron James. The Hummer is a ways off, so maybe it was okay to be low-key and laid back. This was not a call to action for hand-raisers.

Scout, the golden retriever owned by Weathertech founder David MacNeil, had his cancer cured at the University of Wisconsin vet school. MacNeil took a 30-second spot lauding the Badger vets and encouraging donations.  Wisconsin hasn’t gotten this much PR since this mentions by Wisconsin alum / Wall Street Journal sportswriter Jason Gay in his column. Nice touch – who doesn’t like retreivers? – and if MacNeil wants to spend six mil in hopes of getting at least that much in donations to Wisconsin, more power to him. Pets cure a lot of human ailments by being there for you.

Tom Brady made it to the Super Bowl (as one of the game’s 100 best players of the NFL’s 100 years) and also was a spokesmodel for a Hulu spot. Amazon promoted its drama Hunters. Quibi pushed its short video service that launches this spring (nothing more challenging than 10 minutes) and hopes you’ll start saying “I’ll be there in a Quibi.”

Best in Show (Non-Tech): Lil Nas X

The hands-down winner among non-tech or car ads was the Wild West dance moves showdown between Lil Nas X and Sam Elliott with Old Town Road playing in the background. (The guy strumming the guitar at the end was Billy Ray Cyrus.) Doritos footed the bill and reaped the rewards, as long as remembers remember it was Doritos and not Bud Light or Axe body wash. And yes, when Lil Nas rides off on a horse with cascading speakers, it pays homage to Sheriff Cleavon Little and the Gucci saddlebags in Blazing Saddles.

Fast and Furious 9: Everybody’s still trying to match Bullitt.

There also were ads that continued through the show, especially Tide Pods, the claim being that if you get a stain on your shirt before the game starts, you can much later wash – remember, wash, not eat detergent pods – and the stain comes out, at which point in the last ad, the guy gets his now-clean shirt stained again. There were plenty of ads for upcoming movies – Fast & Furious 9 (photo), Minions, Black Widow, No Time to Die – and the trailers’ special effects made people glad, or annoyed, they have surround sound speakers.

Fox ran a lot of promos for future programming, including one for the Daytona 500 where stock cars appeared to come onto and arc across the field. Conspiracy theorists will see hidden hands at work when a Super Bowl broadcast on Fox News (actually, Fox Sports, but don’t let facts get in the way) runs the Donald Trump commercial midway through the first period when everyone is watching and the Michael Bloomberg spot didn’t get airplay until late in the extended halftime. Fortunately, Kansas City and San Francisco made it close until the final minutes; three late Kansas City scores made for a 31-20 win. So most viewers stuck around all three hours of the game and J Lo / Shakira halftime.

A few ads got remade at the last minute to downplay or factor out death or helicopters (RIP, Kobe). So the death-and-resurrection of Mr. Peanut spot was pretty bland.

Now read:

5 Lessons From the Death of Frankfurt Motor Show

The Best Cars, Car Tech, and Trends of CES 2020

Best Cars of the 2019 LA Auto ShowDetroit

from ExtremeTechExtremeTech https://www.extremetech.com/extreme/305660-why-the-best-super-bowl-commercials-were-all-cars-and-tech from Blogger http://componentplanet.blogspot.com/2020/02/why-best-super-bowl-commercials-were.html