#crow? WRONG. GRACKLE TIME.

[strix-brigade]

akechi may be a crow according to canon but he'll always be a puffed up aggressive grackle to me

[whispering-coffee]

Hey yall, I decided to take a break from tumblr for a bit but now I’m back.

I think I might start taking this account a little more generalized. Obviously its still gonna be mostly about omo and stuff but I might share some random things that are unrelated.

On that note I wanted to share that I’ve recently decided to start trying to befriend crows. I typically give them shelled peanuts, unsalted of course. I’m still working on it but it seems like they’re slowly beginning to trust me. A couple days ago it took say about 30-ish minutes for the crows to come down for the food i dropped them, but today it only took a few minutes! One of the crows I’ve had my eye on has something wrong with one of the feathers on its wings, its bent upward and I’m not sure what thats about but it seems to fly just fine despite that. On a semi unrelated note I’ve also attracted a grackle to my home as well, they seem to know whenever I get home because every time I pull into the driveway I see them flying up onto my neighbor’s roof.

[mythbits]

a few ramblings/headcanons while i'm at work (warnings for emetophobia and skin-picking)

despite constantly looking like an emaciated dog, Dark can, but will rarely eat. sometimes he'll do it out of courtesy if someone offers him something. other times, he'll do it if the craving is strong enough.

it just doesn't stay down for long, though, shortly coming right back up as strange, black chunks. so he doesn't bother trying very often.

as another form of release from his constant anxiety (and everything else), Eric picks and scratches at his feathers, excessively grooming them to the point where a feather or two might fall out.

because of this, he won't use 'glammer' often, as it'll expose the scratches and scabs on his arms, and just makes him feel even worse.

because the color of Eric's wings look almost identical to the color of the Jims' wings (both a near solid black), the Jims think that Eric is a grackle just like them.

he still hasn't told them he's a crow. he doesn't think he will, to avoid upsetting the Jims.

very rarely does Wilford get a big cat version of 'the zoomies'. when he does, he either goes out and targets random people ('to give them a good scare, all in jest!'), the Jims, or sometimes Ed.

he says the Jims are 'bundles of feathered fun' and that it's funny to hear Ed whinny-screaming his head off as he runs away.

the Host finds it a little funny when people think he's some lovecraftian, eldritch horror because of the tentacles that come from various points on his body when in human form.

they're not wrong, as it would fit his theme of horror, after all. more than being an octopus would, but he still likes his octopus half just as much.

[sweetwhumpandhellacomf]

Grackle drugged and delirious?

Grackle hates crowds and he hates loud music and he hates alcohol. Which is why he finds himself stalking a target in a night club three times a week. He’d messed up his last mission, and this one was his punishment.

He glares down into his drink, which is entirely non-alcoholic, by way of avoiding locking eyes with his target. The young man’s the son of some corporate bigwig, a party animal who travels with security at all times. Grackle’s supposed to find a chance to get him alone, but the man’s been proving tricky, and Rook is growing impatient with him.

Someone grabs him roughly by the shoulder, and he whirls in his seat, hand flying to his waist where a hidden dagger rests. “Jamie!” the drunk crows, lopsided grin and half-lidded eyes showing he’s not all there. “My man, where you been?”

Grackle blinks, surprised. Just a case of mistaken identity. “...Wrong person,” he mumbles, shoving the drunkard off and turning back around. His target’s still at the corner booth and doesn’t seem to be ready to get up soon. Grackle sighs and finishes off his drink. Still terrible and too-sweet.

After the bartender pours him another at his request, he returns to his surveillance. The current song blasting over the speakers seems to be something discordant, the words unintelligible. He’s starting to feel dizzy, the flashing dance floor lights hurting his sensitive eyes worse than usual.

As the bass starts thrumming through his chest, warm and fuzzy, he realizes with a sinking feeling that his drink was spiked with something. He has to get out of here. He slams a few bills on the counter and hurries out of his seat, trying to remember where the stairs are.

He sees the stairwell, but it’s blockaded by a crowd of dancers, bodies packed too tightly for him to squeeze through, not with his balance constantly sliding sideways. He has to take the elevator. Clutching his head, desperately tuning out the pounding music and lights like celestial pulsars, he makes his way to the sliding doors that represent freedom and relief.

Before he can reach it, a heavy body slams him up against a pillar. He gasps, instinctively reaching up to grapple with his assailant, but the bodies around him shift, pinning his arms to the pillar behind him. An arm finds itself beneath his chin, pressing hard enough to make him still but not hard enough to cut off his breath.

“You stay away from me,” comes the deadly calm voice of his target, leaning in far too close and forcing Grackle to look up into his face. “Or next time we’re gonna leave your body on the dancefloor.” He releases Grackle’s throat, mentions for his guards to free his arms. Senses firing off multitudes alert, he stumbles the rest of the way to the elevator, mashing the button.

The doors open, and he pushes himself off the wall and into the corner, supporting himself on the brass rail and staring down at the carpet floor until the doors close.

He lets the elevator ride down and slides down onto his knees, hands trailing weakly down the wall after him. His head’s still swimming, but at least in this small box, there’s no music, no flashing lights to overwhelm him. Nothing but the wall and the carpet and the gentle yellow light. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall.

Rook’s going to punish him so terribly when he gets home.

[evolutionsvoid]

The Grackles are a remnant of the Gods of Dawn, one of the few species from that ancient time. Once a proud and perfected race, the Grackles worshiped the first gods and reaped the benefits. They were one of thousands of species who were built by the Gods of Dawn, and they were destined to rule the galaxy and forever remain in the care of the Gods. But things went wrong when the slave species, the R'Karrh, rebelled against them and the gods. Having been created to work and serve, the R'Karrh suffered for millions of years as replaceable laborers, who lived and died at work. Secretly, the race had come up with a new religion and a new set of Gods to worship. In a massive rebellion, the R'Karrh went to war against everything that belonged to the Gods of Dawn. Though the many species numbered in the thousands, the R'Karrh numbered in the trillions, having been built as expendable labor, to be used and thrown away. Their massive numbers swarmed the planets they lived on, destroying temples, cities and species in a suicidal wave. It was at this point in time, as the Gods of Dawn descended from the skies to slaughter millions of R'Karrh in mere moments, as the other species gathered their troops and armies, that a miracle occurred. In an intense moment of true, undying faith, Ka'Ran'Koth and the pantheon were born. The new Gods assaulted the Gods of Dawn and overpowered them, as the first gods were weak from a millenia of creation and the loss of many of their followers. They were banished from the universe, and reality fell into the control of the new pantheon. The Grackles were soon faced with extinction, as the Gods built the Titans to wipe all evidence of the Gods of Dawn from existence. The species fled planet after planet, as their brother and sister species went extinct from the brutal conquest. It was in the moment of betrayal, when the Titans and Gods fought, that the Grackles escaped the eyes of the Gods and hid away. As they hid, all of their great cities and fellow brothers were annihilated, leaving them one of the few original species left alive. And to this day, the Grackles live on, hiding from universe and cursing the name of the R'Karrh.

What remains of the Grackles is a degenerated beast of inbreeding, mutation and stagnation. The perfect genes and DNA that once made them so great has long since rotted away, leaving their bodies in a disgusting state. The noble look they once had is now gone, replaced by a tangle of limbs and piles of twitching, stolen flesh. Grackles are now multi-limbed parasites, requiring the DNA and flesh of other species in order to grow. Their bodies are incapable of creating new flesh and cells on its own, so it must have stolen ones from other bodies. To do this, the Grackles have a horrifying arsenal of weaponry. The most notable is their "cold" breath. From their strange, beak-like mouths, they can breathe out billowing clouds of "cold." These clouds look a lot like steam, but those engulfed by it will find their bodies paralyzed and locked, as if they had been frozen solid. These clouds render organics still as statues, leaving them open targets for the shambling monstrosities. These clouds persist for long periods of time, and can be breathed through cracks of doors or vents, filling rooms with the freezing gas. Once the victim is unable to move, they use super adhesive spines on their hands and claws to rip chunks of flesh from the prey's body. These gobs of skin, muscle and bone are slapped onto their own bodies, which are then assimilated into their form. Grackles will rip prey apart layer by layer, enjoying their feeding and the pain of those being eviscerated. Grackles can rip off entire limbs and stick them onto their bodies, which will then assimilate and become a limb of their own. Prey will be stripped, and what is left is then consumed by their dual chest tentacles. These appendages secrete a digestive fluid that breaks down organic material and sucks it up at the same time. Grackles will rub down prey with these tendrils, melting off layers with each pass. This soup is used to feed them and rejuvenate their bodies. When Grackles dine, nothing is left of the victim. As creatures that require alien flesh to survive, Grackles come in all shapes and sizes. Some may scuttle around like crabs or insects, while some may slither about. What remains the same for all Grackles is the beaked head and the chest feeding tendrils. These structures are found on every Grackle. To reproduce, Grackles go the asexual route. A Grackle that has fed on many victims will be quite large and bulky. At a certain point, it will put its energy and resources into growing a second head and pair of tendrils. Once these structures are created, it will hunt down a victim and freeze them in place. Once the food source is secured, the body will violently rip itself in two, with much pain and agony being experienced by the two halves. Once separated, the two will feed on the victim in order to heal their bodies and make them whole once again. Though they will be smaller and with less limbs now, the two Grackles will quickly grow as they feed on more prey. Grackles are extremely hard to kill, as they do not seem to have a centralized brain. Simple wounds and loss of limb do not affect them, as they will keep moving and hunting without hesitation. Decapitation is not recommended, as it only destroys the control of the freezing gas, causing it to spray out wildly and cover entire areas in a shroud of paralyzing vapor. The only true way to kill one is absolute disintegration. Grackles move quite slow, as the many limbs are hard to control and their bodies are constantly in a state of rot. Their shambling movements strike fear in all who worship the Gods, and their crow-like calls have been in many nightmares. Though degenerated and rotting, Grackles are still sentient and use clever tactics to trap prey and remain hidden from view. They always refer to sentient beings as "R'Karrh slime" as all sentient species alive today are descendants of the R'Karrh. And this knowledge makes the Grackles even more cruel and psychotic. Hateful of a race who stole the universe from them.

[mildly-magpie]

Pigeons are literally holographic. Hello??? What more could you ask from a bird??? They also come in a range of colors from pure white to brown and speckly to almost black. They're incredibly beautiful birds and I have to constantly restrain myself from gently holding their round little bodies. Their babies are also super fucked up looking which is all I want really.

Male cardinals are like the brightest red I've ever seen on a bird. The red beak? Stunning. The little hat? Stunning. Their red feet? Stunning. Don't get me wrong, the females are really cool too, they look like a fire that put on a grey jacket. But these guys, especially when they show up in the snow or in areas where the trees have lost all their leaves and they're the only color on a grey/brown background. *chef's kiss*

Alright, I'll admit, I'm guilty of hating on a grackle or two in my day. But come on. They look like a galaxy with a bluish head and the purple-red neck that fades into their super-shiny black body. And their bright eyes stand out so much on their dark bodies. I just think they're neat and they often get mixed up with crows and ravens which isn't fair because they're much more colorful.

Ok to be fair blue jays are pretty easy to love. If I saw this for the first time just chilling in someone's yard I would go absolutely apeshit. They're so colorful! Even the females have super bright blues which I think is great.

Male red-winged blackbirds. Did you know we have this in the northeast? I didn't until I saw one on a trip to Ocean City one time and I watched them for hours because they're so fucking cool looking. That red and yellow spot on their wings makes it so interesting to watch them fly.

Red-tailed hawks are often mistaken for other, more "interesting" predatory birds like peregrine falcons or bald eagles, which can lead to disappointment that it's "just" another hawk. But can we talk about how amazing it is that we see these birds so often that they're "just" hawks? Like look at how cool they are! The speckled bodies with the dark wings, those huge eyes that stand out against their brown head. They're just beautiful birds and I appreciate seeing them even though they are pretty common.

a lot of "normal" north american birds are actually beautiful you guys are just mean