#cassowary miraculous

[kwaziicatsposts]

First legitimate contribution to anything :D

OCTONAUTS HEADCANNONS!!!!

captain barnacles: claustrophobic and scared of heights due to falling into a crevis in his childhood, only really has his sister and mentor natquit (can't spell his name) as a sort of family outside of the octonauts, second oldest at around 35 (lost track abit), very protective of his crew and won't hesitate bit-h

Kwazii: fueled by anxiety and energy drinks, lil silly guy but honestly will panic if someone gets hurt, doesn't sleep enough and stress cleans everything despite having a messy room, plays harmless pranks on the others (minus barnacles), has known shellington since college, he's from North East England but his accent is a combo of geordie, cockney and pirate aspects.

Peso: is this close to just slapping the next person to get injured, will eventually force everyone to get therapy one way or another, close with dashi and kwazii because dashi is the most careful and kwazii always ends up in the med bay, somehow not the youngest at around 28, will stab you if you hurt his family.

Tweak: she and her dad would go camping in the Australian outback and she has befriended several cassowarys and emus despite the danger, will smite shellington for breaking the gups, ended up giving them AI to make them help their drivers in emergency, it worked but now the gups are alive, never interview her she will roast all whom she hates

Dashi: least chaotic, wants to love everyone and be the therapist, has a portfolio of everyone doing stupid things and uses it to cheer herself up, has a YT channel and a Twitch channel which she does live streams on, coincidentally her YT and Twitch streams end up being on the news whenever something goes wrong on the octopod, yes everyone knows this don't worry

Shellington: originally from Scotland bit moved to Sunderland/Newcastle at age 14, knows kwazii from 6th form/college since they took the same stuff, watches casual geographic to gain random animal facts, if the air is tense he WILL crack a "ducks have a spiral pènis" just to de-tense the air, that or he just rants about the most random sh-t.

(Not doing inkling sorry ;-;)

Added stuff!!!

Barnacles is Russian, specifically siberian, Kwazii is from Sunderland making his a makam, shelly (shellington) is Scottish, dashi is Canadian-american mix and from detroit, tweak is Australian, Peso is chillean (can't spell, he's from chile) or atleast from the Chilean part of the antarctic.

Barnacles is 35 ish, kwazii is around 25, shelly is 26, Peso is 28 ish, tweak is 30 and dashi is 27 ish.

Kwazii has ADHD and autism, shelly just autism, tweak ADHD and possible autism, dashi has non miraculously, barnacles has undiagnosed possible autism and peso might have both autism and ADHD or just autism he can't tell anymore.

All have phobias of something but that's a different post. Hope you enjoyed, sorry its so long and yes I gave up half way through ;-;

[abaharashi]

The fact the child didnt die when bringing the egg back is miraculous. Cassowaries are fucking scary!

You recently moved to the countryside. Your child was playing in the woods, and came back with a large green egg you thought was plastic, so you agreed they could keep it if no one claimed it. Your kid said it was a gift. You thought nothing of it. Then the egg hatched.

[gal-with-pastels]

Decided to draw the rest of the Kwami's for Australia!

We have Eccho the kwami of Sound, Apoll the kwami of justification, Hopp the kwami of Endurance, Quill the Kwami of Absolution, Gaiaa the kwami of Patience, Bamm the kwami of Intimation, and Webbz the kwami of Perseverance.

[pro-bee-sisters]

Other Kwamis I Plan for The Lost Miraculous:

Salty; The Kwami of Caution; Connected to The Crocodile Miraculous. (Will be given to Kagami) ♀️

Kick; The Kwami of Ambition; Connected to The Kangaroo Miraculous (Will be given to Aurore) ♂️

Growl; The Kwami of Possession; Connected to The Tasmanian Devil Miraculous (Will be given to Mireille) ♀️

Walli; The Kwami of Affection; Connected to The Wombat Miraculous (Will be given to Myléne) ♂️

Euca; The Kwami of Compassion; Connected to The Koala Bear Miraculous (Will be given to Zoé) ♀️

Spike; The Kwami of Resolution; Connected to The Echidna Miraculous (Will be given to Max) ♂️

Incog; The Kwami of Imitation; Connected to the Thylacine Miraculous (Will be given to Luka) ♂️

Bill; The Kwami of Distinction; Connected to The Platypus Miraculous (Will be given to Kim) ♂️

Danger; The Kwami of Consultation; Connected to The Cassowary Miraculous (Will be given to Ivan) ♂️

This will be updated in the nearby future! These were the only ones I could think of on the top of my head!

If you have anymore ideas for more kwamis, please tell me!

Also, please remember to vote for Chloe's Spider Name for The Lost Miraculous!

BUZZ ON~!

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 10

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Picking codenames is hard!... on Batman

First< Previous> Next

-------

“That was so awkward,” Marinette groans, pulling her beanie down as a mask.

“The part where your crush was asking for date ideas right next to you?” Marion turns his hoodless hoodie inside out to the black side, “Or the temperature drop between Chlo and 'he who shall no longer be named in her presence'?”

“One, we’re not in her presence right now so you don’t have to keep that promise,” Marinette unzips her skirt so she's down to her leggings and hands it to Marion, “and two, both, I hope you’re just a cringe worthy around Red Hood tonight”

“Now that’s just not nice,” Marion playfully pouts, flipping the skirt inside out and pulling it over his head.

“Your crush got us into this situation, I reserve the right to not be nice,” Marinette pulls her hood up before running and vaulting off the roof.

“Can you believe that?” Marion makes sure his mask is fit securely over his head.

“Yes, yes I can,” Plaggs voice sounds from his pocket. Marion doesn't answer chasing after Marinette to the meeting point.

“Sorry we’re late,” Marion says, touching down in front of Batman and Robin a second later than Marinette, he puts away his staff, “Not exactly the fastest way to travel,”

At least not without magic.

“That changes today,” Batman walks away from the edge of the building.

The twins follow with Robin who had fixed a glare on Marinette since their arrival.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Marinette decides to be the bigger person, both figuratively and literally, “I felt frustrated and defensive and took that out on you,”

Robin seems taken aback, regarding her for a long pause.

“Indeed, take care it doesn't happen again,” Robin says, at least slightly less snobbishly then he was yesterday.

Marinette doesn't let that bother her and gives him a bright smile. Taking him off guard again. Marion squints at the shadows trying to see a betraying hint of bright colors.

“The others are out on patrol,” Batman informs them as they come to stand next to him as he sets down a case on an old abandon table

Marion hoped he didn’t notice.

“So there’s no need to glare at the shadows,” Batman adds, a hint of amusement at Marion's embarrassment. He flips open the briefcase to reveal neatly packed grappling hook guns among other gadgets and weapons.

“These are your communicators, put them on,” Batman hands them each a small piece of cool metal shaped with irregular bumps that should fit well in their ears.

“Hello, this is Oracle, can you hear me?” A voice clicks on when the communicator is comfortable in Marion's ear.

“Um, hi Oracle, I don’t think we’ve met,” Marion says out loud, glancing at Batman who gives a confirming nod.

“We haven’t, but I’ve been watching you, I run surveillance in the Batcave,”

“That’s an actual thing?” Marinette blurts out, Oracle laughs.

“Yeah, Batman's committed to the motif,” She tells them, curiosity and mischief takes over.

“Please tell me there are actual bats,” Marion jokingly begs.

“Maybe you’ll find out for yourself someday,” Oracle teases.

“How mean,” Marion pouts playfully, hoping Oracle could tell he’s not serious.

“You’ll patrol with Robin and I today,” Batman hands them each a grappling hook, “Do you know how to use these,”

Marinette smirks, walking to the edge of the building and launching off, swinging into the night.

“That would be a yes,” Oracle chuckles, Marion looks around trying to figure out where she’s watching from, “Don’t bother looking, I have eyes all over the city,”

“Huh, that's concerning,” Marion watches Marinette land on an adjacent roof, waiting for them, “Also I don’t know how to use this, staffs really are my forte,”

“I’ll teach you, Robin follow her,” Batman commands, Robin swinging off with the same ease as Ladybug.

“That reminds me what are your codenames?” Oracle asks through the comms, as Marion regards the grappling hook with suspicion.

“Uh, we don’t have any, do we need them?” Marinette answers for him, as he judges the weight.

“It’ll be easier than saying ‘hey you’ and ‘the other one’,” Oracle sounds amused. Marion accidentally hits the trigger, Batman easily sidesteps the upcoming projectile.

“Plus we need to stamp out this rumour,” Robin spits venomously, Marion quickly retracts the hook.

“What rumour?” Marion looks to Batman who didn’t seem too upset about almost being shot.

“There has already been some sightings of you around Gotham, no one knows your names so they are calling you the new Robins,” Batman explains, correcting Marion’s grip on the grappling hook.

“Their first response to seeing new vigilantes was that there were new Robins?” From the audio it sounds like Marinette is rushing through the air. Something Marion realises he will be doing soon as Batman guides him to aim at the next building over.

“There's been a lot, plus you have the whole red, green and yellow,” Oracle informs, as Marion hits the trigger.

“Separately, I would never put all three in one outfit, unless I was trying to be a traffic light,” Marion smiles at Marinette's offence, remembering when she was forced to do just, lamenting over how heroes have no eye for color scheme.

“Regardless, you need codenames,” Batman watches as Marion pulls making the line go taunt.

“Do they have to be flying creatures themed?” Marion gets ready to swing down to the next building. He tries to remember the times they messed around and tried on each others miraculous. Needless to say he preferred his staff.

Batman is silent, swinging to the next building expecting Marion to follow.

“I’m going to connect your comm to the others, they need to hear this,” Oracle laughs, a click later, “New guys are on,”

“Hi,” Nightwing's voice comes through.

“Hello,” The twins both greet, getting a response from Red Robin as well.

“Hey, I’m Spoiler, nice to meet ya,” A cheerful feminine voice greets.

“Black Bats also on here somewhere, don’t expect her to talk much,” Oracle tells them, Marion still standing on the edge of the roof.

“I’m here too,” Red Hood’s voice startles him, jumping off and swinging across more on instinct than anything else.

“I’m surprised at you Hood,” Robin sneer can be heard, Marion lands on the roof with a slight stumble.

“Don’t be, just didn’t want there to be new Robins running around,” Red Hood grouses, Marion gives Batman a slightly amused smile, the man nods in approval, or confirmation?

“We were actually just talking about codenames,” Oracle remarks, “Flying creature themed,”

“How about, flying squirrel!” Marion jokes, following Batman's lead as he aims for the next building over.

“Sugar glider,” Marinette giggles.

“Yeah, that's the one,” Marion approves, grappling hook shooting out with a hiss.

“No,” Batman denies, swinging off.

“Flying fish,” Marion follows with less hesitation.

“Scientific name: Exocoetidae,” Oracle answers without a beat, as Marion swings through the air.

“Why would you know that?” Marion hears someone say over the rushing wind.

“No,” Batman growls, Marion landing next to him.

“Gliding Lizard,” Marinette offers, as Batman shows Marion the retraction tool on the grappling hook.

“Scientific name: Draco,” Oracle recites.

“Potter,” Marion and Red Hood snarl together. Marion tries not to grin like an idiot in front of the watching Batman.

“No,” Batman jumps to the next much taller building using the retraction tool to pull himself to the top.

“Flying frog’s a thing,” Oracle tells them through the comms, “Or Wallace’s flying frog,”

“Oh, can everyone please just call me Wallace,” Marion makes sure his grappling hook is secure, “You’ve got Batman, Robin, Red Hood, and Wallace,”

“I’ll be Grommet,” Marinette laughs, Marion jumps.

“No,” Batman repeats, Marion uses the grappling hook to pull him up next to Batman.

“Mosquito,” Spoiler chimes in.

“Fly,” Red Hood adds, Marion can hear gunshots from somewhere. Looking around he realises it was from the comms. Nobody comments, so he assumes it was common enough.

“No,” Batman says, Marion follows him more confidently.

“Flying snake,” Marion remembers after a far too long conversation with Sass.

“Is that a thing?” Nightwing questions. Marion jumps off the building, sending the grappling hook out as he falls.

“Sure is,” Marion feels the hook snag on something and pills himself up landing next to Batman.

“Slightly more afraid of snakes,” Nightwing admits, Batman's expression is similar to Kagami's when he jumped into the Seine river to save a cat.

“Don’t worry they’re only mildly venomous,” Marion smiles, partly at Batman's still surprised face.

“Gee, thanks,” Nightwing says, as Marion ignores Batman's glare.

“Welcome,” Marion swings to the next building with a cheeky grin.

“No,” Batman overtakes him.

“This is why we’ve never chosen codenames,” Marinette whispers.

“I see,” Robin whispers back, no one bothers to inform them they can be heard.

“You are now limited to birds,” Batman grumbles, leading Marion across rooftops, still at a slow pace.

“Penguin!” Marion grins, Batman was trying but it would take a lot more to discourage him.

“That's a villain,” Red Robin tells him. Marion knew that he just thought it would be funny if they were both called penguin.

“Emu,” Marinette continues the flightless bird trend as Marion soars across the sky.

“No,” Batman growls.

“Cassowary,” Marion remembers the evil looking bird from their Nonna's postcard. Which Marinette had kindly made sure was hung up facing his bed.

“Why?” Red Hood startles Marion, causing him to crash through a window of an old building.

“Have you seen them? Quite frankly scarier than bats” Marion is momentarily proud of himself for not stuttering.

“No,” Batman looks disapproving, standing atop the broken glass, Marion rubs his neck grinning sheepishly.

“I think he’s intimidated,” Red Hood snickers, warmth filling Marion making him forget.

“It’s already working,” Marion smiles, partly at Batman who turns to leave.

“No it’s not,” Batman says gruffly. Marion moves to follow but he senses something off, the same instincts he had honed during Akuma attacks.

“Sure,” Red Hood scoffs, but Marion isn’t distracted trying to focus his somewhat super hearing. The muted sounds of distress could easily be written off, but he knew better.

“Kiwi,” Spoiler chirps, Marion tugs on Batman's cape, not bothering to look back as he follows a mixture of the murmurs and instinct.

“Quail,” Red Robin adds, Marion rushes down the stairs, echoing footsteps of them both making it harder to hear so he just keeps going down.

“Ostrich,” Nightwing chatters, even over the footsteps Marion can now hear something.

“Stop choosing flightless birds,” Batman commands, trying again in vain to narrow down their shenanigans.

“Pigeon,” Spoiler crushes his hopes of them taking it seriously.

“Bin chicken!,” Nightwing laughs, Marion reaches the bottom of the staircase. He concentrates Batman standing silently behind him.

“You mean Ibis?” Robin corrects. Marion can hear it now, the floor below several people, children, some crying others yelling for help.

“That's not nearly as much fun,” Spoiler yammers, as Marion whispers the information to Batman.

“Crow,” Nightwing tries again. Batman nods, taking the lead. Marion feels some of his tension drain, Batman carrying a similar feeling to whenever he followed Ladybug.

“Raven,” Marinette seems to at least be making an attempt to take this seriously now, probably because Marion hasn’t been egging her on.

“Already a hero,” Robin tells her, Batman breaks down the door to an office type room, the guard behind the desk barely having a chance to react before getting knocked out.

“Really? I have to meet them,” Oh thats right, no she wasn't because MDC had designed a Raven outfit months ago.

“Dove,” Oracle tries, Marion wonders if she is watching as Batman shoves a shelf out the way revealing a locked door.

“Crane,” Red Hood adds, Batman's relief at semi serious names is dulled as he easily picks the lock while Marion readies his staff.

“Heron,” Spoiler says, as the door swings open. Batman looks back, checking in on Marion who gives him a reassuring smile, theres no way he would miss this.

“Osprey,” Robin offers. Marion is glad he is getting involved, lightning his mood as they enter the basement room. A group five of men with guns nearby playing cards.

“The Heron and the Osprey are my friends,” Marion half sings the Pocahontas tune as he lunges forward, smacking the gun out of the first goon's hand and kicking him in the stomach simultaneously.

“It’s otter,” Nightwing corrects good-naturedly, Marion watches the first goon double over. He defends himself against the seconds punch, a third ganging up on him.

“Well someone ban us from anything but birds,” Marion light heartedly glares at Batman who takes out the third goon.

“Moving on,” Batman grunts, disarming a fourth goon that comes at him, the fifth already on the ground.

“Hawk,” Red Robin suggests, just as Marion turns to see the second goon aiming a gun at him.

“Eagle,” Marinette says, a batarang flies through the air hitting the goons hand, who drops the gun reflexively.

“You’re going to have to commit to full american if you take on that one,” Nightwing chuckles, Marion tries to hit the second goon in the head but his staff is caught by a bleeding hand.

“So no then,” Marinette lets some of her french accent come through. Marion yanks his staff forward, sending the goon off balance forward. He brings his knee up to his chest and elbow to the back of his neck at the same time.

“Kite,” Nightwing offers. Marion watches the goon slump to the floor, reminding himself to bandage his hand later.

“Parasailing,” Marion plays the word association game. The first goon has recovered and is standing again, now with a knife.

“How’d you make that connection,” Nightwing puzzles, as Marion dodges the blade.

“It’s like flying a kite but with people's lives,” Marion laughs, partly at the very confused look the first goon gives him.

“High risk kite flying, if it gets stuck in a tree it's time to go to the hospital,” Red Hood snatches Marion's focus, almost getting himself stabbed.

“You realise that the people who are in the air are meant to be having fun,” Red Robin asks, Marion can’t answer as he dodges the knife again. He would never hear the end of it if he got stabbed because of his crush. Oh and he would have to go to the hospital and might die and stuff.

“Then they're clearly not doing parasailing right,” Red Hood retaliates, Marion decides he does not want Marinette to put this on his tombstone. He steps to the opposite side of the knife, the goon predictably twists to reach him. Marion grabs his wrist holding the knife and his shoulder with the other hand.

“I second that,” Marion grins sweeping the goons legs while applying pressure to the wrist until the knife is dropped. The goon lands on his back, Marion pulls his arm so he is forced on his stomach, other arm trapped underneath.

“You are never allowed near the ocean again,” Marinette sighs, Marion moves the arm he is still holding into a pin. Batman hands him a pair of handcuffs. Marion snaps one around the goons writs before pulling the other out from under his body.

“I shouldn’t have to say it but your codename cannot be Parasailing,” Batman scowls, the other three goons already out cold.

“Ugh, why can’t we just go with Robins?” Marion sits the goon up, lifting the table and sliding his looped arms under a leg.

“We already have a Robin and Red Robin,” Nightwing points out, Marion moves to the second goon. He pulls some bandages out of his satchel, tightly bandaging the goons bleeding hand.

“Scarlet Robin,” Marinette suggests. Marion smiles at her teasing tone, zip tying the second goon's hands together.

“Same thing,” Red Robin sounds irritated, Marion looks to see Batman has restrained the other goons as well.

“With less alliteration” Spoiler mocks, Marion checks to make sure there are no weapons within reach of the one conscious goon.

“Black Robin,” Marion picks up his dropped staff, holding on to it in case there's anyone else looking for a fight.

“Flame Robin,” Nightwing offers, Batman surveyed the room before giving Marion a nod.

“I like that one,” Marion sets down the hall towards the noise, he's not sure if Batman can hear yet.

“You are not to call yourselves Robin,” Robin snarls, Marion would grin over getting him to snap if it wasn’t for the quiet cries behind the door he stood in front of.

“Thrush,” Red Hood taunts, Marion pushes open the door where there are several children who all startle at seeing him.

“That's a Robin,” Robin sneers, when Batman follows in after him their concern melts into relief. The younger ones running up to him.

“No its not,” Oracle says, Marion can hear sirens from above and wonders who called the police, “Robins are part of the Chat family,”

“Oh I have to be Chat!” Marion exclaims, making the few kids near him jump and the others look at him like he’s crazy. He blushes but gives them a friendly smile and wave.

“No!” Marinette shouts not at all suspiciously. He ignores her, telling Batman, and by extension the room the police have arrived. He can hear them entering the building. “I find it highly entertaining you know so much about birds,”

‘Very smooth cover’ Marion doesn't dare say out loud. He crouches down in front of the kid closet to him. His clothes are torn with dirt smudged all over them and his face. Marion gives his brightest smile asking if he’s ok. He gets a hesitant one in return and a slight nod.

“Alright then, other small bird species,” Oracle graciously changes the subject.

“Fantail,” Spoiler suggests, Marion can hear the police running around upstairs in completely the wrong direction. He tells Batman so.

“Sparrow,” Nightwing tries, Batman leaves to direct the police. They probably wouldn't trust an unknown like Marion, much like the kids don't.

“I like that one,” Marinette approves, Marion reaches into his bag pulling out a box of cookies. It was meant to be a backup for Tikki, but the Kwami could make do.

“It’s acceptable,” Batman says over the comms. Marion hands the box to the boy who stands in front of him.

“Other birds starting with s?” Red Robin asks, Marion smiles as the boy’s excitement when he opens the box.

“Swallow,” Nightwing says, after a thoughtful pause. Marion watches as the boy immediately goes to share with the others.

“One step forward,” Robin mutters, Marion gives the kids a reassuring smile before moving to stand watch at the door.

“Seagull,” Spoiler giggles, Marion can hear the police talking with Batman, who must have turned off his comm.

“And two steps back,” Red Hood mocks, Marion tries to keep the completely inappropriate lovestruck grin off his face.

“Looking up birds,” Oracle informs, a pause then, “Sad flycatcher,”

“Should we shorten it down to ‘sad’ or ‘flycatcher’,” Marion wonders aloud, hoping the kids didn’t hear him, or at least don’t think he’s insane.

“Sad,” Red Robin responds instantly. Marion feels a tug on his sleeve, looking down he sees the same boy holding out a cookie for him.

“Fly catcher,” Nightwing says cheerfully. Marion’s heart melts. Shaking his head he urges the kid to have it himself. He does, sticking close to Marion.

“No,” Batman must have turned his comm back on, in time for Marion to catch the tell tale footsteps coming downstairs.

“That isn’t part of the name at all,” Spoiler jokes, the police enter the room. Marion sees Batman signal for them to leave. Marion ruffles the boy's hair gently, getting a slightly bolder smile.

“Stork,” Marion leaves the room, sticking close to Batman so police don’t attack him.

“You are very cute with babies,” Red Hood praises, making Marion's face heat.

“You saw that!” He yells, startling the officers they walk past to get upstairs.

“I recorded it,” Red Hood’s amusement is clear in his voice. Marion can’t come up with an answer, his thoughts warring over if that was a good thing or not.

“Santa cruz ground dove,” Oracle reads, snapping Marion out of his thoughts. He had blindly followed Batman to the stairwell, he seemed amused by Marion's spaciness.

“Santa,” Nightwing declares, as the two climb the stairs.

“Absolutely,” Marion beams, looking for Batman's reaction.

“No,” Batman shuts down, unfortunately stony faced.

“Screaming Crowbir-”

“No,” Batman cuts Oracle off.

“Scrub warbler,” Oracle tries again.

“We aren't calling him scrub,” Nightwing sighs, before Batman gets the chance.

“Sharpe,” Oracle proposes.

“I will exclusively call you permanent marker,” Spoiler promises, making him smile.

“Sounds like a win-win,” Marion bounces to the top of the stairs.

“No,” Batman grouses, they come out to the roof, the night's cool air hitting them.

“Shelley’s starling,” Oracle reads, as Marion walks to the edge of the roof to see what's happening below.

“Please let me be Shelley,” Marion begs Batman, hands clasped and everything.

“No,” Batman snaps, Marion hits him with the babydoll eyes, “Maybe,”

“Shikra,” Oracle interrupts his silent victory.

“Shakira!” Nightwing shouts, Marion bounces on his feet.

“No,” Batman says firmly.

“Please,” Marion tries the babydoll eyes again.

“I’d rather you be Shelley,” Batman admits, Marion would take it.

“Sparkling violetear,”  Oracle lists.

“Sparkling,” Spoiler gushes, Marion looks onto the street below where the kids are exiting the building.

“No,” Batman disapproves, also watching medics take over, giving blankets out and checking them over.

“Flash back to the first robin costume,” Nightwing's haunted whisper carries over.

“What?” Marinette sounds horrified, Nightwing's previous fashion choices not being very confidence inducing.

“Squirrel cockatoo,” Oracle reads, just why it’s called that is beyond Marion.

“Wont that confuse people?” Red Robin asks, Marion spies the little boy looking around.

“Exactly,” Marion’s comment gets a chuckle from someone, he hopes it’s Red Hood.

“Stitch bird,” Oracle adds. The boy's eyes land on Marion who probably just looked like a silhouette, but only so many people hang out on rooftops.

“Can I change my name to Lilo?” Marinette requests. The boy waves, Marion gives him a two fingered salute before disappearing from view.

“No, we’ve wasted enough time as is,” Robin doesn't pick up on her taunt, Marion and Batman leave the scene behind.

“Good job,” Batman remarks, Marion doesn't hear an echo from his ear.

“Sunda Robin,” Oracle says, Marion smiles to himself watching Batman move ahead.

“No Robins,” Robin scowls, Marion tries to get back into the rhythm of swinging through the air.

“Sunda thrush,” Oracle repeats. Batman stops, brings up a holographic map, a flashing ‘R’ not far from them.

“Same thing!” Robin yells, Marion follows Batman in the direction shown on the map.

“We’re going to be here all night,” Red Robin sighs tiredly.

“How about-”

“That's enough for tonight,” Batman cuts off Spoiler, a long pause following.

“Guys I think we broke B.” Nightwing stage whispers into the comms.

“Good job, and on your first night too,” Red Hood cheers, making Marion stumble his landing. Which is obviously the moment their paths intersect with Marinette and Robin. The former giving him a knowing look.

Marion sneers, they continue on with patrol as a group. Oracle directs them to a pickpocket a block over. They take one look at the four vigilantes surrounding them and give in. They are interrupted by their phones simultaneously buzzing, an Akuma alert.

“We have to go,” Marinette lands next to Batman, handing over the grappling hook.

“Where?” Batman demands, as they both remove their comms, cutting off the others asking the same.

“Something came up, we have to handle it, see ya,” Marion waves, vaulting off the building, followed by Marinette.

“... I have to admit, that wasn’t too bad,” Marinette muses, as they check for cameras before transforming.

“That's the spirit Sparrow!” Marion pulls on his glasses, “Gasp! Jack Sparrow!”

“Captain,” Marinette corrects, “Don’t tell Batman he’ll make us change it again,”

[hikaru-shirogane]

So, here are the Miraculous that could potentially appear in The Exceed Phoenix Saga:

Albino Crow

Scorpion

Cassowary

Garuda

Dragonfly

Wolf

[silentspacenstuff]

Guess who recently got into Miraculous Ladybug ... (though I’m mostly just in it for the kwamis; such cute little darlings!)

Any-who, here are a couple kwami OCs I came up with: Puuna the manta ray kwami (top) and Jarrah the cassowary kwami (bottom). 

[coreymichaelsmithson]

One Of Those Years

My favorite line from the musical “GYPSY” is from the song “Some People”, when Mama Rose sings, “Some people sit on their butts / got the dream, yeah, but not the guts.” And that’s how I’ve felt for my entire adult life: go, go, go, move, jump, strive, question, explore, try, fail, try again. Just keep trying, damnit. Even if I sometimes fall on my ass … even if I frequently, publicly, embarrassingly fall on my ass … I’m gonna keep trying. I do this because I know that real life is happening right now, right here. I know that life is quickly slipping away, disappearing into all those boring ordinary “in-between moments” of everyday existence. With every passing second the opportunity to make choices gets narrower and narrower. I know, way down deep inside, that the magic ice cream truck of death is already making its way towards me, as it does for each of us, and soon enough there will be no more choices to make or time to kill or tinsel to hang. I ain’t going down without a good story.

Without a doubt, 2021 has been "one of those years". One of those years that seems to stand out above the others, one of those years with a special richness and density.

I spent January 1st standing naked on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean ... letting it all hang out, so to speak ... at a clothing-optional beach in Florida, and I'll be wrapping up this December in a tiny town in rural Tennessee, safely nestled in the tattooed arms of my beloved, sharing a bed with him and his four special-needs dogs. It's been a jam-packed, blazingly intense, truly miraculous chapter of my life story, and I can't wait to share what I've learned. Here goes.

Let’s start by getting back to my bare ass on New Year's Day. I'd spent the previous evening, the last night of 2020, at a cassowary breeding ranch owned by two gay men in Central Florida. Cassowaries, in case you hadn't heard of them, are the world's most dangerous birds. Native to Australia, they're basically murderous dinosaurs with fancy plumage and daggerlike toenails. They can jump six feet straight up in the air and disembowel you with a single kick. So that was how I rang out the previous year: staring down enormous flightless birds that wanted to gut me with their foot knives. Anyway, while visiting this farm, I also got to hang out with a very good friend, a fellow wanderer, and together we decided to greet the New Year in typical scary hairy fairy style ... frolicking gaily in the altogether, warmed by the sun, two bearded furballs wearing only smiles and sunscreen. It seemed like a strangely auspicious opening to January. As I stood in the surf, facing my maker, arms akimbo, fully exposed, I looked up into the big blue sky and said, "All right, 2021. Do your worst."

As it so happened, though, this ended up being the year of me finally getting my shit together, on many fronts. I cannot say for certain why I felt so compelled this year, this one year out of so many, to start making some long overdue repairs, to improve some lifestyle habits, to advance to a new level of adulthood. But that's what happened.

Perhaps the most significant transformation was a physical one. I joined a gym, and started working out at least five times a week. Three weeks into my new regimen, I reached the maximum weight on two different machines, outgunning the sort of big beefcakey guys who had once scared me away from all things exercise-related. I bought a motorized standing desk, rearranged my home office, got a weight bench and dumbbells for home use, changed my diet, and got vaccinated for COVID. I finally addressed my teeth, tackling some long-standing dental problems that had been plaguing me for years. After some root canals, crowns, fillings, and some periodontal work, my smile has been vastly improved. I'm still missing some teeth, and I won't win any beauty pageants, but my mouth is no longer the train wreck it once was.

I celebrated my ninth year of sobriety. I also sought professional help for my depression, seeing both a psychiatrist and a therapist, before acknowledging that neither of them were a good fit. I briefly experimented with antidepressants, and then stopped taking them when I realized that they would never address the core issues I was facing. I decided instead to focus my energies on other mechanisms of self-improvement.

I hired an accountant, who helped me take on the steep mountain of my tax debt. This year, I paid off the entirety of my outstanding state taxes from my New York days, breaking a $10,000 shackle around my ankle, and I started chipping away at what I owe Uncle Sam.

2021 brought many new adventures for my minivan Pamela and I. We celebrated our fourth year and 83,000th mile together. My girl, like me, has had a lot of work done this year ... new hubs and bearings, a new power steering pump, new rack and pinion, and her exhaust system got patched up. Our first big foray this year didn't turn out so great, though.

We took an ill-starred roadtrip to the coast of North Carolina, and we almost didn't make it back. I turned 47 at Kitty Hawk, the site of the Wright Brothers’ first flights. Though I went up there intending to see the famous wild ponies of the Outer Banks, my plans were thwarted by off-season closures and Pamela's lack of four-wheel drive. Instead, I stood beneath the Bodie Island and Cape Hatteras lighthouses, visited a museum about shipwrecks (and photographed two actual shipwrecks), watched dolphins leaping above the breakers, and took a nausea-inducing ferry to Ocracoke Island. Despite these highlights, nothing quite went as planned, and the entire "vacation" was marred by ceaseless rain, chilling winds, and shitty food. Most upsetting of all, though, was a deeply disorienting and mysterious experience in the dunes of lower Bodie Island, when I got lost in a maze of scrubland and somehow blacked out while trying to bushwhack my way through the briers. There is still a blurry-edged hole in my recollection of that place; I must have seen something there that shook me to the core, something so shatteringly awful that my mind simply will not allow me to remember it. I have never experienced this kind of traumatic amnesia before, and I remain fearful that the memory may eventually resurface, at the least opportune time, and I'll suddenly be treated to a widescreen Technicolor recap of whatever it was I'd encountered in the dunes. Aliens? A dead body? A goblin crouching over an injured horse? On the return trip, Pamela's alternator broke down, right in the middle of a severe weather outbreak. We punched through nearly 700 miles of tornadic thunderstorms, sometimes driving in the downpours without headlights or windshield wipers, on a string of five brand-new ($$$) car batteries. In all my driving, even with all the stormchasing and white-knuckled rides I've lived through, this was by far my most terrifying night behind the wheel. Honestly, I'm grateful and amazed that we survived it.

Twelve days after my forty-seventh birthday, I celebrated a sad but significant milestone: I had outlived Judy Garland.

In 2021 I visited Ravine Gardens State Park, Natchez Trace State Park, Devil's Tower National Monument, a replica of the Parthenon, and the house that Grant Wood used as the backdrop for "American Gothic". I went white-water rafting down the Nantahala River, got lost in a mirror maze in Gatlinburg, saw a trio of bored bears in Smoky Mountain National Park, climbed to the top of Clingman's Dome, and hung out with bison and elk in Yellowstone. I outran a monstrous line of hailstorms on a farm road in rural Kansas, fled at midnight from an ugly misunderstanding in Montana, and ran over a dead skunk. Pamela killed an armadillo. I got a good haircut in Wichita, from a spunky lady who called my beard "calico", and a not-so-great clipper job from a three-fingered barber in Des Moines. I was also groomed by a monkey on Christmas Day, but that’s a story for another time. During various outings, I saw Key West, Nashville, Tulsa, Casper, Billings, Little Rock, Omaha, and Montgomery. The state of Alabama, which I crossed three times in less than a month, proved to be full of surprises: I stood beneath a Saturn 1B rocket at a rest stop, drove through an eerily empty town blanketed in windblown cotton, and watched an eight-year-old expertly maneuver a riding mower around the narrow grass berms of a Waffle House parking lot. I witnessed the aftermath of the devastating flash floods that took out much of Waverly, Tennessee, a town that was nearly wiped off the map entirely. I gritted my teeth through a disappointing attempt at shamanic "journeying", rescued a gecko, and sported a hoopskirt for a stormy photo shoot on the beach.

Meanwhile, my professional life has never been busier. My largest client, the Bank of America, really kept me hopping this year. In addition to working on a full-length documentary about the bank's history, and numerous presentations about its corporate support of the arts, I also edited short episodes on the works of Jean-Michel Basquiat, Joan Mitchell, Diego Rivera, Georges Seurat, Mark Bradford, Katsushika Hokusai, William T. Williams, Frida Kahlo, Rembrandt, Allan Houser, Caravaggio, Thornton Dial, Archibald Motley, Harry Fonseca, and others. I did logo designs for nutritional supplement peddlers in New York, Colorado, and Connecticut. I started a new side hustle as a paralegal, interviewing accident victims and then telling their stories through essays that helped humanize their insurance claims. I cut a sizzle reel for a new cooking show, did post-production on a music video for a talented genre-bending artist, and proofread a friend's graphic novel.

I finished three painting commissions: a dual portrait (“Cheers”), a floral study (“Sally’s Bouquet”), and a giant Sedona landscape (“The New Eden”). I debuted a new short film, “EACH MISSISSIPPI”, which I'd co-created last year with a gifted local actress, and wrote dialogue for a collaborative screenplay, “THE LAST BONANZA”, with a director in Minneapolis. I moved the needle forward on my fourth novel, “THE FABULOUS MEDICINE SHOW”, and finished a short essay for an upcoming book about artists in Memphis. I spent a great deal of 2021 hunched over my easel. I continued work on two series: "BLUE ANGELS”, which are a group of 30"x40" blue and white abstracts, and the [C] deck, which are one hundred 12"x12" black and white illustrations for a modern-day Tarot. I applied to a poetry contest, a photography contest, a painting contest, all of which rejected me. I tore out and replanted a garden, which promptly died after I left town for a few weeks. Sorry, snapdragons. Sorry, daisies.

One of the centerpiece moments of my career happened this autumn, when I was invited to deliver a lecture about my work at the University of Memphis. As a visiting artist, I got the chance to work with a cohort of graduate students, visiting their studios and critiquing their latest work. The honorarium for the gig didn't come anywhere close to meeting the expenses of the trip, but none of that mattered: this was a major professional honor. I learned so very much from this experience, perhaps even more than the students did, and I made some amazing new friends.

In fact, 2021 was full of friends. Chock full of 'em. Figures coming back into my life after long absences, splendid smiles, hugs and tears and laughter.

I met so many fascinating people. A friendly but jittery hippie tripping on mushrooms. A recent widower with crazy white hair and an apparent case of priapism. A sad-eyed Venezuelan in the midst of a messy divorce. A peaceful MMA fighter who just wanted to talk about turtles. I learned about the tragic dimensions of Carmen Miranda’s career from a gifted Brazilian artist. I hung out with a kayak eco-tourism guide, and we chatted about ecology while viewing a tranquil stretch of marshland. I pierced a transwoman's ears with a store-bought gun, and then we raced up the coast road together in her busted-ass Durango, joyfully shouting the lyrics to "WAP", easily the most vulgar song I've ever heard, while the wind blew her wig askew and the locals stared at us with either incredulity or envy.

I hopped down to Orlando, and spent a giddy bachelors' weekend with two dear old buddies, hetero life mates from my Memphis days. We visited Disney's Magic Kingdom, EPCOT, and Hollywood, spazzing out about the dark rides and the density and the amazing artistry of it all, and together we endured the worst dinner theater experience ever, a Prohibition-themed environment that was so unbelievably corny that we bailed before the curtain had even lifted on the actual show. I had an unexpectedly vibrant reunion with a high school classmate, one in which we commiserated about the many nicks and dents of fate, while walking through an eerily fogbound stretch of beach. We came upon a labyrinth drawn in the sand, which seemed apt for our mood.

To my surprise and delight, I discovered that a college chum and fellow artist from Massachusetts had recently moved to Jacksonville, less than an hour north. We started a tradition of sharing many wonderful beach walks and sushi dinners together ... enjoying long philosophical meanders, pondering our careers, our purposes, and our place in the grand scheme of things. In a short while, we became soul brothers, deeply invested in each other's artistic legacies. And in the spirit of cosmic awakening, my bro and I shared one of the most mind-blowing experiences imaginable: we underwent an ayahuasca ceremony. Ayahuasca is a potent shamanic hallucinogen, one used by indigenous tribes throughout South America. It took six weeks of strict dieting (no sugar, meat, dairy, dried fruits, carbonation, fermented foods, spice, pepper, salt) and two weeks of total celibacy (which was for me, as you can imagine, a big goddamned deal) to prepare for the ceremony, which took place at a non-profit facility in Orlando ... but the spiritual and psychological payoff was beyond all measure. I received many important messages from The Great Beyond, a few of which I hope I have successfully transmitted, and I saw illuminated in golden lines my road to a much healthier lifestyle.

2021 took many loved ones away. I lost a former coworker, a sweet and sassy gal with sparkling eyes, who once gave me an unsolicited lap dance at an office Christmas Party. One of my favorite dog friends died, along with a surrogate mother figure from high school, and a tattoo artist (who had once photographed me naked and drenched in fake blood), and one of my very best clients, and one of my biggest teenage crushes. This last one hit especially hard, as my erstwhile crush had been posting a lot of great content online over the last few years, giving his lucky friends a keyhole view into his thoughts. His social media feed had become a flea market: crammed with antiquities, pop culture tidbits, great architecture, paintings, vintage photographs of hot dudes, food, gaiety, and tons of goodwill. His was a life full of engagement and creativity.

The town I live in, St. Augustine, has a lot of fascinating features, many of which I hadn't explored yet. This year, I finally toured our most famous building, the Castillo de San Marcos, the oldest masonry fort. Dating back to 1672, it's an imposing stone structure, shaped like a four-pointed star, surrounded by a grassy moat and crowned by cannons. A visiting friend and I got to wander through its many dim and evocative chambers. I checked out our community theater, and saw charming productions of “The Odd Couple” and “A Closer Walk”. I spent as much time as I possibly could on Anastasia Island's pristine beaches. On a few occasions, I saw a right whale and her calf spouting as they swam the waters between Jacksonville and Ormond-By-The-Sea. I also found a shark tooth, and then a bigger one, and then a much bigger one. I saw two sharks caught on the beach, one of which I actually got to hold down as the fisherman struggled to unhook its jaw from his line. I saw a human tibia wash up in the surf.

Speaking of body parts ... I will definitely remember 2021 for another reason.

Men.

I mean, even for a guy of my gargantuan appetites, with a standard of promiscuity that would make a brothel madame blush, this year was one for the books. 2021 was full of sex, sex, more sex, abortive romances, bad dates, great dates, fun games, friendly exploration, dumb ideas, misfires, bad choices, one of the most crushing disappointments of my life, and finally, finding my true heart's desire. In twelve months, I ran through a bewildering gauntlet of dudes. I hooked up with a shy Pokémon nerd, a furry and friendly hairdresser, an upholsterer, the son of a preacher man (no kidding), and a kindhearted traveling store merchandiser who used his drawing skills to turn my name into a stylish maze. I bedded a former military man with a cute little chihuahua, shared a glorious orange moon with a Turkish musician/healer, and enjoyed a wondrous encounter with a licensed sex therapist. I had short dalliances with two "straight" guys, including a weird string of assignations where I was asked to tiptoe through my host's house in the middle of the night, sneaking into the guest bedroom, while his family slept nearby. I bounced around with a charming couple, a pair of real sweetie-pies with whom I remain good pals; our rambunctious little playdate was followed by an astonishing dinner conversation about defeating death, one that made me relax all of my anxieties about the remainder of my life. I got caught up in an absurd bit of drama with an unemployed actor, who became so screechingly shrill and clingy and histrionic that for the very first time in my adult dating life I actually had to tell the other guy to dial it down. I got stood up on two dates by two different jerks, and caught a case of crabs from a nomadic retiree while parked behind a Cracker Barrel.

I rented a car (for the first time in my life) and drove down to the Florida Keys to share a romantic weekend with a witty entomologist of Indian descent. We held hands while snorkeling over Sombrero Reef, eight miles off the shore of Marathon. I swam alongside a sea turtle in the shadow of a massive steel lighthouse, ate delicious grilled octopus, and visited a butterfly sanctuary, where a dazzling Morpho eugenia landed upon my forehead. We remain devoted friends, and our shared love of the English language keeps our conversations peppered with swishy double entendres and taxonomical puns. Many months later, I shared a superb week with another Indian man, this one a product manager visiting from Utah. We snuggled and laughed and watched our favorite movies together ... I introduced him to "Meet Me In St. Louis", and he showed me the legendarily beautiful actress Sridevi. Truly one of the loveliest humans I've ever met, he went back home with a piece of my heart stowed in his luggage.

Sadly, though, 2021 was also a year of profound romantic failure. I'm sorry to report here that one of the most painful disasters of my love life happened in 2021. And considering all the flotsam and jetsam I've left in my wake, that's really saying something.

One sunny day in May, I met a handsome theater director, visiting from Moscow, as he emerged dripping wet from a swim in the Atlantic. In the course of a few days, he and I found ourselves lost in a delirium of lust, a state of heated and perhaps irresponsible ecstasy that still makes me close my eyes as I recall it. We climbed to the top of Anastasia Island's lighthouse, swam nude under the blue lights of my backyard pool, shared tender kisses under a full moon, and made exciting plans for me to visit Russia. In earnest, I began to study the Russian language, practicing every day, making tremendous advances in the space of a few weeks, even writing my first poem in a foreign alphabet. We jammed our phones with video messages, spoke with an increased earnestness, began to share the most intimate dimensions of our lives. Alas, just a few months later, the dark knight revealed his true nature ... callous, selfish, cruel, and impatient ... and my heart was dashed to the rocks. Again.

But no matter. If there is one thing I've learned in 2021, it's that the human heart is miraculously resilient thing. You can keep breaking it, over and over again ... yet with just a dash of hope, and a lot of faith, it rebuilds itself anew.

Which brings us at last to my current sweetheart, the guy with whom I am sharing the final days of December. He is, without a doubt, the biggest and bestest prize I’ve won at the carnival that was my 2021. I first met this man nearly thirty years ago, when I first arrived in New York City as an impressionable eighteen-year-old rube from the hills. A singer-songwriter, gifted with an extraordinarily supple voice, his star was on the ascendant in those days, and he was starting to taste some fame in the East Village scene. We started chatting during a video shoot for the NYC Anti-Violence Project, a non-profit organization dedicated, as the same suggests, to reducing the risk of violence against (and within) the LGBT community. Right off the bat I found him absolutely arresting ... so bright and charismatic, so sexy and funny and sweet-natured. That night I ended up going home with a different man (a gem of a guy who remains one of my most beloved friends to this day) but I couldn't get that cute little punk rocker out of my mind. I've never forgotten that first impression I had of him, and nothing I've discovered in the subsequent years has changed it. Back in 1992, I had somehow roped him into posing for my camera, in a series of portraits, long before he covered his entire body with elaborate and colorful tattoos, like The Illustrated Man in the sideshow. My infatuation started right then and there ... and to be honest, it never really went away. We kept in touch over the following decades, casually checking in with one another on various social media platforms. Every year, for his birthday, I'd send him a very enthusiastic message, letting him know how beautiful and special he was, how much I admired his music and his spirit, hoping he was finding happiness. I always carried a torch for him ... but, frankly, I kind of thought he was out of my league. He was a celebrity, after all, and so damn gorgeous, and practically everybody in town wanted a piece of that cake. So I put the possibility far out of my mind. "You may as well try to date Marlon Brando," I said, with a sigh, "circa 1951." But this year, as I was making my way through Tennessee, our paths crossed again, quite by chance. And this time, the electricity between us was undeniable. Our friendship suddenly came to crackling, vibrant, buzzing life, and in the subsequent months it became something else altogether.

Let me tell you a little bit about this guy. He makes me laugh so hard that I cry or snort or both. He cares for four dogs with varying degrees of blindness, deafness, or … uh … specialness. He cooks excellent omelettes, and he makes homemade holiday fudge for the locals, and he helps elderly neighbors move their heavy furniture, and his singing voice makes me go weak in the knees. Just like me, he's had a string of relationships, with varying degrees of success. Just like me, he's sober, in an ongoing program of recovery. Just like me, he's at a crossroads in his life, trying to strike a balance between artistic fulfillment and survival in an end-stage capitalist society. Just like me, he gets teary-eyed watching “It’s A Wonderful Life” but thinks “The Bad Seed” is hilarious. We're holding onto one another firmly, like two men who have found a raft in the middle of a turbulent sea, and hoping for the best. It seems like we’ve both arrived at the place in our lives where we’re truly ready to make a go of it.

After all … what have we got to lose?

And so, in the spirit of adventure, in keeping with my ongoing quest to learn and grow and travel far beyond my comfort zone, I took one last great leap of faith in a year full of great gutsy leaps. I proposed to the crooner on Christmas Day. And he said “Yes.”

That was my 2021. I started it off by standing naked on the ocean, asking the fates to surprise me, and I will likely finish it curling up naked (and engaged) in a Tennessee musician’s bed. Between those two moments of literal and figurative exposure stands one of the best years of my life. Thus far, at least. Thanks for taking the ride with me. I love you.

[whimsicallyconfusedforlife]

Emus and cassowaries make me shudder in terror!! Yes I want an Aussie miraculous special!! We could have bunyip and yowie kwamis. It would be epic!!

They could do the harbour bridge climb and take a ferry to manly.. 😂

‘New York’ special this and ‘Shanghai’ special that

Where’s the Australian special ft. Adrinette getting swooped by magpies and eating magical fairy bread and freaking out over drop bears and losing fights to emus and making upside-down jokes

[maine-writes]

The Tragedy of Maine

“It sure was nice of the critters to invite us over for lunch.” Rune said to her large, feathered companion. 

She and Ostrich sat at the dinner table, a couple of bowls in front of them. One filled with dirt, the other with ostrich-shaped biscuits. The two of them had been staring at the odd lunch that Maine served to them, unaware of the work he put into it and too polite to say anything. 

In the livingroom, which had miraculously transformed into a dojo, Patty oversaw the training of a half dozen rats in stereotypical ninja garb. The little rodents, who were all female, were practicing twirling their chained sickles, assassination techniques, and meditating before a stylized painting of an ancient rat shinobi. 

“So.” Rune began, desperately trying to break the awkward silence (Which wasn’t really silent. They could hear the clanging of steel, loud cries of martial arts, and Patty’s stern instructions.), “What’s with the team of trained killers?”

“Pirates vs Ninjas.” Maine replied, happily dancing around in the kitchen as he made his food. “Patty’s going to be a ninja.” 

“Does that mean you’re a pirate?” the leaf elf continued as Ostrich pecked at his food. 

“That’s right!” the raccoon said, “Already have my crew and my ship. They’re in the bathroom.” 

Rune and Ostrich then turned their attention toward the bathroom door. And as soon as they did, they heard the merry tune of sea shanties, the crashing of mighty waves, and the cries of seagulls. Normally, one would inquire as to how one can fit an entire pirate crew, the Caribbean, and a 17th century frigate inside a 13th story apartment. But seeing how the two critters were involved, Rune and Ostrich chose not to question it. 

“Mwooo?” Ostrich bellowed. 

“Mac & cheese, of course.” Maine replied. Which, quite frankly, was surprising, as nobody could normally decipher whatever Ostrich was saying. Usually, people smile and nod at the poor bird, or run in fear of being pecked at. Those who run fail to understand that ostriches pose no threat to them. It’s the emus they should worry about. Emus and cassowaries. Emus, cassowaries, and geese. Emus, cassowaries, geese, and late night or early morning joggers. 

Satisfied with the texture and flavor of his cheesy pasta dish, Maine poured the entirety of the saucepan into a bowl and began to make his way to the dinner table. But as he happily hummed away, he failed to notice the rogue ostrich biscuit on the floor. 

With a slip and a cry, Maine watched as his steaming bowl of velvety goodness hurdled through the air. 

The world slowed down, moments became hours, and fleeting throughts stretched out into complex plans. I’ll just go back in time and catch it, he thought to himself. Lo’ and behold, another Maine appeared in a brilliant flash of blue, ready to catch the flying bowl. 

But as with everything Maine does, he missed a detail; he forgot to account for time dilation. 

The two raccoons stood where they were, one lamenting the tragic loss of his meal, the other paralyzed by unbearable pain and shock. It was still pretty hot, after all. 

And as their worlds fell apart, Patty appeared with a golden fiddle, playing a sad little song for them while a devilish smile curled upon her lip. 

After this hilariously strange scene played out before her, Rune slowly turned back to Ostrich and said, “It sure was nice of the critters to invite us over for lunch.”

@ostrich-was-here @leaf-lord (art by her as well!)

[cappucino-commie]

Tagged by @beka-tiddalik Name: Well, according to my sister, it's Pepperoni. Gender: I'm a dude, go by he/him. Star sign: Gemini Height: 6'1 Sexual orientation: Bi, but the semantics of naming multiple gender attraction has always been too boring for me. I like guys, gals, and nonbinary pals- but bi is the label I prefer. Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. If I was sorted at age 11, Ravenclaw no question. I was bookish, nerdy, and very shut-in. However, a community orientated atmosphere probs would have been good for me so like?? It might be up in the air. Favourite color: Purple! Favourite animal: The Cassowary. Mother fucking shark-dinosaur-bird Time right now: 9:36 PM Average hours of sleep: Ha. Hahaha. Hahahhahahahahah. Usually 5-6 hours. Sometimes 7. If allowed to sleep in, 12. Cat or dog person: Definitely a cat person in general, but I Iike dogs too. Favorite fictional characters: Naruto, Harry Potter, a lot of pretty typical characters. On top of that, characters from Miraculous Ladybug. Number of blankets you sleep with: As many as I can. Currently like 5? Less in the summer but I prefer being cold and covered to being warm and uncovered. Favorite singer/band: Good question. No solid answer- I like a lot of music. Too Many Zoos is amazing, but pretty uniform in their music. I love swing. Check out Anais Michael, she's one of my favs. Dream trip: A cross-country road trip with friends, to nowhere in particular. Dream job: Currently, some kind of software development or web page making? I'd love to be an author but my creativity is weird and I doubt I could handle being an author. I like my writing to be stress free and fun. When was this blog created?: I have no idea. Years ago? When did your blog reach its peak?: Hm. Two posts stand out to me. One was a screengrab of a funny post combo. The other, which I'm more proud of, was a discoursey post on the dynamics of Lapis/Jasper in SU from before Malachite was defeated and broken up. What made you decide to make a Tumblr?: I don't remember, really. Tagging people: @inksoolover, @thescuttlebugg, @pebnawolf,

[hikaru-shirogane]

Picture this: An AU where Caline Bustier is a kickboxer and she wields the Cassowary Miraculous.

[pro-bee-sisters]

UPDATE!

As of 9/16/22, I have officially came up with 10 Kwamis, Heroes, and Miraculouses for The Lost Miraculous!

Here is what I got:

Salty; The Kwami of Caution; Connected to The Crocodile Miraculous. (Will be given to Kagami) ♀️

Kick; The Kwami of Ambition; Connected to The Kangaroo Miraculous (Will be given to Aurore) ♂️

Growl; The Kwami of Possession; Connected to The Tasmanian Devil Miraculous (Will be given to Mireille) ♀️

Walli; The Kwami of Affection; Connected to The Wombat Miraculous (Will be given to Myléne) ♂️

Euca; The Kwami of Compassion; Connected to The Koala Bear Miraculous (Will be given to Zoé) ♀️

Spike; The Kwami of Resolution; Connected to The Echidna Miraculous (Will be given to Max) ♂️

Incog; The Kwami of Imitation; Connected to the Thylacine Miraculous (Will be given to Luka) ♂️

Bill; The Kwami of Distinction; Connected to The Platypus Miraculous (Will be given to Kim) ♂️

Danger; The Kwami of Consultation; Connected to The Cassowary Miraculous (Will be given to Ivan) ♂️

Spiny; The Kwami of Impersonation; Connected to The Stonefish Miraculous; (Will be given to Juleka) ♀️

Also, if you didn't see it by now, Tiarantula aka Spider!Chloe is officially up! You can view here right here!

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR LOVE AND SUPPORT! THE LOST MIRACULOUS WILL BE COMING ASAP! AS ALWAYS, GIVE ME TIME!

I LOVE YOU ALL AND BUZZ ON AS ALWAYS~

Other Kwamis I Plan for The Lost Miraculous:

Salty; The Kwami of Caution; Connected to The Crocodile Miraculous. (Will be given to Kagami) ♀️

Kick; The Kwami of Ambition; Connected to The Kangaroo Miraculous (Will be given to Aurore) ♂️

Growl; The Kwami of Possession; Connected to The Tasmanian Devil Miraculous (Will be given to Mireille) ♀️

Walli; The Kwami of Affection; Connected to The Wombat Miraculous (Will be given to Myléne) ♂️

Euca; The Kwami of Compassion; Connected to The Koala Bear Miraculous (Will be given to Zoé) ♀️

Spike; The Kwami of Resolution; Connected to The Echidna Miraculous (Will be given to Max) ♂️

Incog; The Kwami of Imitation; Connected to the Thylacine Miraculous (Will be given to Luka) ♂️

Bill; The Kwami of Distinction; Connected to The Platypus Miraculous (Will be given to Kim) ♂️

Danger; The Kwami of Consultation; Connected to The Cassowary Miraculous (Will be given to Ivan) ♂️

This will be updated in the nearby future! These were the only ones I could think of on the top of my head!

If you have anymore ideas for more kwamis, please tell me!

Also, please remember to vote for Chloe's Spider Name for The Lost Miraculous!

BUZZ ON~!