#geese army

[our-lord-and-saviour-geese]

training!

[ytcomments-archive]

[dragonmouth]

Muriel and their army of “big cross ducks”

Right to left: Crowley Jr., Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle, Pratchett, and Crowley Sr.

[drconstellation]

The Ineffable Ducks

What's with all the ducks in Good Omens that Crowley seems to be inordinately fond of? Turns out, they do have a narrative purpose, they're not just in there as a running joke about Crowley's fondness for the animals of Earth.

They appear in both S1 and S2, and get mentioned in several seemingly random places. Like, really random. There are quite a few in St James Park, where the ducks live, where the international spies also clandestinely meet, where Aziraphale and Crowley meet on several occasions, and where Crowley and Shax have a meeting, exchanging information in S2E1.

Ducks also get referred to here, when Aziraphale suggests they use humans to search and spy out the missing Antichrist, but Crowley insists it will be near impossible because suspicion slides off the boy like water off, what ever water slides off, because he has an automatic defense system.

The he remembers the ducks(!) later in the Bentley when they discuss using their respective networks of highly trained human operatives (Shadwell and the Witchfinder army), and Aziraphale asks if Crowley has a better idea than his. "Ducks!" Crowley suddenly utters.

The ducks that are always there, that you see but don't see, gathering bread crumbs, when any kind of surveillance or secret spy work is being discussed.

Nah, I thought, it couldn't be a sly ref to this famous cartoon by Larson, could it?

Aziraphale and Crowley are always afraid that someone is watching, or listening to everything they do, from both sides. I mean isn't that partly why we got the ending we did in S2, because they have had to be so covert with their communication to each over the centuries they've forgotten how to speak plainly to each other?

Heaven has definitely been watching...

And Hell certainly noticed Crowley's act of kindness in the Edinburgh cemetery, swiftly summoning him to Hell for punishment after his kind deed on behalf of Elspeth.

Then when the duo meet in again 1867 Crowley wonders if "ducks have ears" before declaring they must do - that's how they hear other ducks. So its no surprise that when Crowley asks Aziraphale for holy water that he writes the request on a piece of paper to hide it from those invisible ever-present watchers they know are never far away.

When we come to the start of S2, where Crowley is slouched in St James Park once more, reading the Tadfield Advertiser, and yelling at the Azerbaijani secret agents for feeding the ducks bread. Crumbs, it was alright to do this in the book, and S1, why is wrong now? Has Crowley suddenly become woke and caring for the ducks? Nah.

There's a lot more to it than that. I realized this is the missing Grain offering from my post about altar offerings (see The Altar of Eccles Cakes) in S2. A Grain offering represents a voluntary expression of devotion to God - or the other side you're supposed to be aligned with, in this case.

Shax is part of this scene, discussing the latest news from below, and she mentions some special intel that Hell has received, from their own secret squirrel network. Of course they would meet in St James Park to discuss this, along with all the other spies. While Shax tries to get some intel out of Crowley about what might be going on in Heaven, because she knows he has contact with a certain angel who owns a book shop, Crowley responds by refusing to show any devotion to his former side at this point, and isn't going to give any information away that could be useful. He also doesn't have any intel at this point, anyway, but he's not going to give that away either! Heaven and Hell are toxic, and no one should be going anywhere near them, in his opinion. So stop feeding them that devotional bread!

After Shax asks what they should be feeding the ducks, he eventually says "Frozen Peas. It's good for them, they like it."

The short period of "peas" since they stopped the impending Apocalypse has been enjoyable, and good for Crowley and Aziraphale, but the forced meeting with Beelzebub later that day soon jolts Crowley out of any complacency when they indicate that the "generalized understanding" Crowley thought they had with Heaven and Hell after the body swap to leave them alone, the one Aziraphale-as-Crowley negotiated, while asking for a rubber duck, no less, was looking very shaky and fragile indeed.

And one more random duck ref to discuss.

I was inspired to write this section by lalalunamoth's post calling Muriel a duckling imprinted on Crowley, and of course I did not save it, did I, and a search does not bring it back up again (found it!), so if you're reading this, or know that post, please let me know! I read it, and thought, cute, but nah, then realized that Muriel was sent on a surveillance mission to Whickber St to ascertain the truth of Aziraphale's 25 lazurii miracle. And she did act as the eyes of Heaven, writing up some reports, called Crowley "grice," then followed him around during his escapade in Heaven just like a duckling following a grumpy gander drake while he did his own surveillance measures in a Tactical Turtle neck, channeling his best imitation Sean Connery voice (have you noticed that as well, people?)

No, no, the op wasn't wrong - those big cross ducks, er grice geese, they make good guard dogs, no?

With special mention to Crowley acting as a surveillance duck just prior to this, and Mr Brown doing his own "spying out" of Aziraphale.

To finish this meta, there is one other figure who notably offered the ducks bread, in the book. This passage, which is surely relevant to S3, but didn't appear in S1, shows another character still devoted to God in a way. Lets give Death the final word:

Crowley: "Maybe it's it's all part of a great ineffable plan. All of it. You, me, him, everything. Some great big test to see if what you've built all works properly, eh? You start thinking: it can't be a great cosmic game of chess, it has to be just very complicated Solitaire. And don't bother to answer. if we could understand, we wouldn't be us. Because it's all - all - "

INEFFABLE, said the figure feeding the ducks.

"Yeah. Right. Thanks."

[geekynerfherder]

Showcasing art from some of my favourite artists, and those that have attracted my attention, in the field of visual arts, including vintage; pulp; pop culture; books and comics; concert posters; fantastical and imaginative realism; classical; contemporary; new contemporary; pop surrealism; conceptual and illustration.

The art of Renato Casaro.

[indigosabyss]

QPR Gwentin Take On X-Men First Class

Erik: Peace was never an option. Charles, turning around to look at the door: Can we talk about this later? Gwen is beaming pictures of geese with guns into my head, why is she thinking about this-

[jellogram]

Do you actually think geese are evil or are you just neglecting to give a wild animal proper space and respect because based on its appearance you decided it should be harmless and because you were wrong you decided it's the goose's fault

[daisyachain]

JJK really is a couple of good character designs and a sketchy art style that felt a little fresh sprinkled over the most godawful boring manga imaginable

[moridacted]

had a surprising amount of childhood friends with goose trauma

idk if it's just a canada thing...but do you have goose trauma? or do you know anyone with goose trauma?

[our-lord-and-saviour-geese]

Dear: my goose army...

I THE GOOSE SARGENT!.. will NOT be posting a lot for a while... DUE TO SCHOOL WORK AND MOVING! A DISCLAIMER! I WILL POST. JUST NOT A LOT! NOW THIS DOESN'T MEAN THE WAR IS OVER. JUST TAKE THE SILENCE AS A BREAK FROM THE WAR... From: THE BEST DAYM GOOSE ASSASIN THAT EVER LIVED!

[wandersoul8]

Belated Birthday gift for @/Lillypeaart on instagram! H O N K!

[starwrighter]

Ghost chirps au but instead of the cute little bird songs and peeps it’s just-

“CAW”

Like a giant crow or flock of crows if there’s more than one ghost. Danny being able to gather all of Gotham’s crows, as a giant army because he sounds like them.

Crows: Who tf are you

Danny: CAW

Crows: Say less homie

He’s named every last one of them and has trained them all to pick locks and steal. He’s respected by the crows because he’s the only one with dexterous hands. If they can’t open something they call in the big guns (AKA Danny) Like imagine being a Gothamite and watching a enormous flock of crows seemingly summoning a scrawny child out nowhere to unlock a dumpster? Like they’re crowding around him like he’s the messiah, a god even and they all just squawk in unison when the kid pulls out a bobby pin and picks the padlock. They’re dropping, coins, bottle caps, earrings, bullet shells, anything vaguely shiny and the occasional paper money into his hands.

The kid has a necklace of soda tabs and bottle cap earrings. He also just walks around collecting beer bottles and later sells little glass statues that have a bioluminescent glow (HC that Danny can melt and shape glass with weaker ecto blasts) Glowing glass jewelry is weaved into his hair that is seemingly a identity confirmation for the crows.

Nobody knows the kids name he just showed up one day with his massive army of crows and started to wander. After around a month of the kid wandering around without a care in the world and not dying the locals decide “Huh, I guess crow prince is here to stay,” Like, they accept him as a local cryptid.

Like “Yeah, crow king just kind of vibes but if you give him food, he’ll bash in a pedophiles kneecaps,”

Shit goes down When Danny discovers his chirps can also sound like geese.

[lilaccatholic]

Katniss post-Mockingjay grips onto anything living with both hands. She cultivates a garden sprawled across several of the Victors' Village yards so that she and her loved ones never have to go hungry again full of herbs, greens, vegetables, and all sorts of flowers for Peeta.

(Not roses. Never roses. The primroses are the only roses allowed. She spots some, once, and uproots them to give to some transplant from another district. Even these plants she cannot kill.)

In the sterile, sparse courtyard of the Village, she plants an orchard of fruit and nut trees. Peeta jokes that it is her second forest. She responds by shooting a rabbit for dinner from their bedroom window.

(Hunting is different. It is a necessary kind of killing in the aftermath of a war that leaves resources sparse during rebuilding. Katniss is a good hunter. She knows that if she is responsible, there will be enough game to continue on through the years. She tries not to think about how the Capitol treated the districts the same way.)

She gets two chickens. Then, a few more. Soon, a tiny army follows her whenever she enters the yard. They love Peeta especially, thanks to the baking scraps he slips them when he thinks Katniss isn't looking. Haymitch guffaws from his porch, watching Katniss with her parade of teeny chicks peeping after her.

(He shuts up a little after she gives him his first few geese.)

Gradually, some goats, a cow or two, and a handful of sheep join the menagerie. Peeta comes home with a fragile little puppy he finds going through the bakery's garbage for scraps that Katniss refuses to love until she's sure he will live, nursing the puppy to health all the same. Turns out, he's excellent at herding and protecting the animals, and that ugly little mutt becomes the most fierce protector of his pack.

(The goats are the hardest of all to agree to adopt. Every time she looks at them, she sees Prim's goat with its blue ribbon. The first bite of goat cheese makes her choke.)

And then, when one day, she looks around her, and she finds a thriving, noisy, life-giving patch of Eden where the Capitol's perfectly manicured, ornamental, plastic hell once stood, and she breathes in the clean mountain air and digs her hands into rich, good earth, she thinks about Peeta. She thinks about how he makes bread like the loaves he threw her, but now the dried fruits and nuts come from trees and plants she grows. She thinks about how they got tipsy on dandelion wine on their most recent anniversary, and neither of them thought about mutts, or Snow, or Prim that day. She thinks about every good thing she's ever seen and how she sees more and more every year, and she thinks about how maybe, maybe now it's safe enough to bring another kind of new life into the world.

(And maybe she names her first baby girl Eden. Maybe with that baby, the world starts anew.)

[brodygold]

Twelve Days of Christmas: Day Six

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: six geese-a-laying.

The six men groaned as they stirred awake, their minds clouded and bodies feeling weightless. Each found himself encased in a smooth, glowing, golden egg-shaped pod. The interior was warm and oddly comforting, yet tinged with a metallic hum that resonated through their bones. The pods were suspended in a vast chamber illuminated by radiant beams of gold light that crisscrossed the space like a spider’s web.

For Daniel, the fog in his mind cleared just enough to recall a snippet of memory. It was December, the crisp winter air biting at his face as he and his friends huddled around their table at the diner. Christmas lights twinkled outside the frosted windows, and the smell of cinnamon and pine filled the air. A figure had approached their table—a tall man in a golden soccer jersey, his smile disarmingly bright.

“Want an early Christmas present?” the man had asked, holding up a small golden box. The six friends exchanged curious glances. David had been the first to laugh, joking about it being a pyramid scheme, but their curiosity got the better of them. They each accepted a small golden trinket from the man, its surface warm to the touch. “Trust me,” the man had said, his grin widening, “it’ll change your life.”

Daniel’s head throbbed as the memory faded, replaced by the reality of his current predicament. He pressed his palms against the translucent interior of his pod. A flicker of panic darted across his face as he struggled to make sense of what had happened. The last thing he remembered after the diner was holding the trinket and feeling a sudden wave of dizziness. Now, here he was, encased in this strange cocoon.

“What the… where am I?” he muttered, his voice muffled. He pressed harder against the walls of the pod, the smooth surface cool under his fingertips. Through the golden sheen, he could barely make out the shapes of five other pods, each glowing softly like his own.

“Guys? Are you there?” Daniel called out, his voice trembling. A muffled chorus of confused and frightened responses came from the other pods.

“What is this place?” “I can’t get out!” “Calm down! Let’s think!”

David, a lanky programmer with glasses perpetually sliding down his nose, was in the pod closest to Daniel. He tried to steady his breathing, but the growing sense of dread was impossible to ignore. The chamber around them felt vast, infinite even, the golden beams of light crisscrossing endlessly above. Suddenly, a faint hissing sound caught his attention. He turned to see a golden mist beginning to seep into his pod. It swirled around him, carrying an oddly sweet, metallic scent that filled his lungs.

“What is this stuff?” David choked, pressing himself against the back of the pod to escape the mist. But there was no escape; it was everywhere. The mist wasn’t just filling the pod—it was invading his body, his mind. A wave of warmth began to spread through him, soothing his initial panic. His glasses fogged up as his breathing slowed, his limbs going slack. Somewhere in the fog, a voice whispered.

“You have been chosen for greatness. For the Golden Army.”

The words reverberated in David’s head, erasing his fear and filling him with a strange sense of purpose. He blinked, his glasses slipping from his face as they dissolved into the mist. Shocked, he realized he could see clearly for the first time in years. His vision sharpened, his surroundings coming into focus with an almost supernatural clarity. The voice grew louder, more insistent.

“Shed your past. Embrace your new self.”

David’s body began to tingle, starting at his fingertips. His once-thin, spindly fingers thickened, his nails becoming perfectly trimmed. The transformation traveled up his arms, the bony appendages filling out with firm, sculpted muscle. His shoulders broadened, pushing against the pod walls as they expanded into a powerful V-shape. The golden mist seemed to seep directly into his skin, turning it smooth and glowing with vitality.

His torso convulsed as his ribs and spine realigned. Years of poor posture were corrected in seconds, his chest swelling into a broad, muscular expanse. Abs rippled to the surface, carving themselves into a flawless six-pack. David gasped as his neck thickened, his Adam’s apple becoming more pronounced, his voice deepening with each breath.

The changes continued down his legs. His stick-thin thighs ballooned with muscle, calves becoming rock-solid pillars of strength. Even his feet grew larger, more proportional to his now-athletic frame. A pair of golden cleats materialized on them, glinting in the light.

David’s head tilted back as the mist concentrated around his face. His jawline sharpened, cheeks hollowing slightly to reveal high cheekbones. His nerdy, unkempt hair receded briefly before surging back as a short, stylish cut. The mist reshaped his features into those of a rugged, handsome athlete—a face designed to exude confidence and charm.

As the physical changes completed, David’s mind underwent its own transformation. The golden mist didn’t just enhance his body; it rewrote his identity. His memories of coding marathons and late-night gaming sessions faded, replaced by visions of intense soccer matches and roaring crowds. His love for data and algorithms was replaced with an insatiable passion for the game and an unwavering loyalty to the Golden Army.

The pod opened with a hiss, and David stepped out onto the gleaming golden floor, his movements fluid and powerful. He looked down at himself, admiring the golden soccer jersey that now adorned his muscular frame. A dumb grin spread across his face.

“Whoa, dudes,” David said, his deepened voice brimming with excitement. “I feel, like, totally awesome. My muscles are huge! And, uh… what was I saying? Oh yeah! I’m, like, totally jacked now!”

He flexed his biceps, staring at them in awe. “Man, I used to think about, like, nerd stuff or whatever, but now all I can think about is kickin’ balls into goals and crushin’ it at the gym!”

The other pods began to hum louder, the golden mist swirling more intensely. Daniel, still trapped in his pod, watched in horror as David stepped out, transformed into a towering jock. He banged on the walls of his pod, his heart racing.

“What’s happening to us?” Daniel shouted, his voice cracking with fear.

Inside Daniel’s pod, the mist surged forward, wrapping around him in thick, golden tendrils. He coughed and struggled, pressing himself against the back of the pod. “No! I don’t want this! Please, stop!” But his protests were swallowed by the mist as it invaded his lungs, his body going limp as the warmth spread through him.

The transformation began at his hands, his slender fingers thickening, veins popping as muscle wrapped around his forearms. His arms bulked up, his shoulders widening to a proportion that strained the edges of the pod. His chest heaved as his ribcage expanded, pecs pushing forward into a solid, chiseled form. He could feel his stomach tightening, fat melting away to reveal a defined six-pack.

Daniel’s legs stretched, his thighs swelling with power as his calves reshaped into the muscular foundation of a professional athlete. His scrawny frame was replaced with a body that radiated strength and vitality. His sneakers dissolved into golden cleats, perfectly fitted to his new, larger feet.

The mist enveloped his head, and Daniel whimpered as his features began to shift. His jawline squared, his nose straightened, and his hair shortened into a stylish, sporty cut. His glasses disintegrated, his vision sharpening as though he had never needed them. His skin glowed with health, his face now the epitome of athletic confidence.

Inside his mind, Daniel felt his memories being erased, his identity rewritten. Thoughts of books, strategy games, and his quiet life were replaced by visions of roaring crowds, locker room camaraderie, and the thrill of scoring goals. His protests turned into dumb chuckles as his intellect dulled, his new personality taking over.

“Aw, man, this feels… amazing!” Daniel said, stepping out of his pod. He flexed his arms, laughing. “I’m, like, so huge now! And… uh, what was I worried about? Oh yeah, nothin’! I just wanna crush it on the field, dudes!”

The remaining friends, still in their pods, screamed and banged against the walls as they witnessed Daniel’s transformation. But one by one, the golden mist claimed them too, reshaping their bodies and minds into loyal members of the Golden Army.

When the final pod opened, the six transformed men stood together, their muscular frames glistening under the golden light. They exchanged dumbfounded grins, their minds alight with simple thoughts of victory and camaraderie.

“Bro, this is sick!” Ian exclaimed, flexing his biceps. “I’ve never felt so strong!”

“Yeah, man, like, I can’t wait to crush it on the field,” Chris added, cracking his knuckles.

“Let’s go, bros! We’re gonna dominate!” Tommy said, pumping his fist.

David chimed in, laughing as he patted Ian on the back. “Dude, I don’t even know what I was thinkin’ about before, but now it’s like… all I wanna do is hit the gym and, like, totally smash some goals, ya know?”

“Totally, bro!” Marcus said, slapping his hands together. “Let’s get swole and show everyone what the Golden Army’s made of!”

Above the chamber, in a hidden observation deck, a figure watched the scene unfold. Brody, clad in his own golden jersey, smirked as the transformation process completed.

“Perfect,” he murmured to himself. “They’ll make excellent additions to the team.”

Brody’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. It had been his idea to bring these six here, to reshape them into champions who would bring further glory to the Golden Army. He turned to the console and pressed a button, speaking into a microphone.

“Alright, recruits. Time to hit the gym. Let’s see what those new bodies can do.”

The six jocks erupted in cheers, their simple minds thrilled at the prospect of pushing their limits.

“Hell yeah, let’s get swole, bros!”

Thanks to my good friend @hypnozys for help with some of the photos!

If you're interested in joining the Golden Army for real, contact me, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001

[poetrysmackdown]

WELCOME TO ROUND 2 OF THE POETRY SMACKDOWN

Hello again. First I just wanna say how excited I am at the response to this bracket. I was going to consider it a smashing success if like forty people voted, so needless to say it has outperformed my expectations, and I’ve really really enjoyed talking with folks and seeing everyone's responses to these poems! That said, 14/16 of my votes were in the minority, so actually fuck you guys. 🩷

Anyways Round 2! Transcriptions are included this time in alt text—sincere apologies to everyone for whom Round 1 was inaccessible, and many thanks to @army-of-bee-assassins and @accessibleaesthetics for being so generous with their helpful advice and feedback. I'm still going back and forth about whether to include just alt text or to include the image descriptions in the body of the post as well, but I've reformatted it in my drafts like twice already so at this point I'm just hitting publish and opening it up for feedback.

I've also included links to readings by the author for all the poems where one was available, for anyone interested in getting a fresh perspective.

enjoy! -amelia @poetriarchy

ROUND 2: ENDS JULY 26th at 6pm EDT

“The Two-Headed Calf” by Laura Gilpin vs. “Poem” by Langston Hughes

"Miss you. Would like to grab that chilled tofu we love." by Gabrielle Calvocoressi vs. “Hammond B3 Organ Cistern” by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

“someone will remember us” (Fragment 147 from Sappho trans. Anne Carson) vs. “The Quiet World” by Jeffrey McDaniel

“Come. And Be My Baby” by Maya Angelou vs. “Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver

“The Orange” by Wendy Cope vs. “Instructions on Not Giving Up” by Ada Limón

“To The Young Who Want to Die” by Gwendolyn Brooks vs. “Meditations in an Emergency” by Cameron Awkward-Rich

“I’m not a religious person but” by Chen Chen vs. “How to Be a Dog” by Andrew Kane

“I’m Going Back to Minnesota Where Sadness Makes Sense” by Danez Smith vs. “Having ‘Having a Coke With You’ With You” by Mark Leidner

[velvet4510]

There’s no way Nina Lehnsherr wasn’t an Omega-level mutant. She was the daughter of Magneto and one of her sisters was THE SCARLET WITCH!! Communicating with and controlling animals was just the tip of the iceberg of her abilities. I mean, her eyes were literally glowing when she controlled those ravens! Her powers were reaching into something spiritual, metaphysical, ethereal, closely bonded to the rules of nature.

At the height of her abilities, I bet Nina could perfectly imitate animal sounds if she listened closely enough, and briefly copy other animals’ abilities through touch (like if she touched a bird, she could make herself fly, and if she touched a fish, she could develop temporary gills to breathe underwater). If she heard crows cawing at each other or geese croaking or sheep baaing or cows mooing or horses neighing or dogs barking or cats meowing, she’d understand exactly what they were saying and be able to translate their words into human languages. At her request, animals could share with her telepathic visions of what they were seeing. So if a pair of rabbits noticed someone was in trouble in the neighborhood, they’d connect with her and she’d see through their eyes and know where to go to help that person. If she wanted to, she probably could even shapeshift into any animal she wanted.

Think of how unstoppable Nina would be with that kind of power. Everywhere she went, she could make the nearest creatures do whatever she wanted them to do. The wannabe villains would get wiped out by a flock of birds pecking their eyes out before any of the other X-Men could even lift a finger. Creepy guys daring to harass her would suddenly be ambushed by an army of urban rats from the sewers. Nasty humans pounding on the X-mansion’s front doors trying to make trouble would get run off the property screaming by a pack of dogs. Or if she felt like it, she could spice things up by shapeshifting and doing all that herself.

Basically, she would be Mother Nature incarnate. Snow White would have NOTHING on her.

And of course that’d make her Quicksilver’s favorite sister by a mile.