#geese quartet

[glitterlessgold]

Rated: Teen

Part 8 of Digital Geese, Taser Whips, Sugar Gliders, and Other Forms of Therapy

Happy Birthday Jin Ling!  We got him some time with his Jiujiu.

Summary: @eastofakkala​

[cheddar-baby]

Cheddar's AOTY 2023

Titles under the read more

1. HMLTD - The Worm 2. Sampha - Lahai 3. Kara Jackson - Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love? 4. Kali Uchis - Red Moon in Venus 5. Dorian Electra - Fanfare 6. Sufjan Stevens - Javelin 7. Underscores - Wallsocket 8. Jessie Ware - That! Feels Good! 9. Dev Lemons - Delusional 10. EABS - In Search of a Better Tomorrow 11. George Clanton - Ooh Rap I Ya 12. Marina Herlop - Nekkuja 13. Ana Frango elétrico - Me Chama De Gato Que Eu Sou Sua 14. Yoni Mayraz - Dybbuk Tse! 15. Maruja - Knocknarea 16. O. - Slice 17. CMAT - Crazymad, For Me 18. Magdalena Bay - mini mix vol. 3 19. Oneohtrix Point Never - Again 20. JPEGMAFIA - scaring the hoes 21. Paramore - This Is Why 22. McKinley Dixon - Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!? 23. Billy Woods - Maps 24. SLAUSON MALONE 1 - EXCELSIOR 25. Fever Ray - Radical Romantics 26. Chini.png - El día libre de Polux 27. Shame - Food For Worms 28. feeble little horse - Girl With Fish 29. Geese - 3D Country 30. Lauren Auder - the infinite spine 31. urias - HER MIND 32. Yves Tumor - Praise A Lord Who Chews But Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds) 33. Speakers Corner Quartet - Further Out Than The Edge 34. The Go! Team - Get Up Sequences Part Two 35. Jeff Rosenstock - HELLMODE 36. Rebecca Black - Let Her Burn 37. Doja Cat - Scarlet 38. SPARKLE DIVISION - FOXY 39. Ballaké Sissoko - Les Égarés (with Ballaké Sissoko, Vincent Segal, Emile Parisien & Vincent Peirani) 40. Genesis Owusu - STRUGGLER 41. 100 gecs - 10,000 gecs 42. grouptherapy. - I Was Mature For My Age, But I Was Still a Child 43. Ukandanz - Kemekem (ከመከም) 44. Meitei - Kofū III 45. Liv.e - Girl In The Half Pearl 46. Feist - Multitudes 47. Le Cri du Caire - Le Cri du Caire 48. katie dey - never falter hero girl 49. CHAI - CHAI 50. Yussef Dayes - Black Classical Music

[iftheshoef1tz]

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Sorry for being gone for a few days, I hope you are alright, my dearest secret santa recipient.

I need to tell you something…and this is that I feel like you are reading my mind (which is slightly creepy, but in the case of present planning actually quite fortunate!) I had a story idea in mind that kind of fits perfectly what you answered - the non-fiction aspect, the angst-fluff ratio and mean Eris…just perfect (like you and your blog😏).

And now, since I am your secret santa I obviously don’t come without presents or in that case (at least for now) questions.

Would you mind telling me your favourite tropes, and maybe if you have a favourite line from Azris? Or a line one says about the other? Can of course also be from fanfiction?

And maybe we can also talk about music? Do you have any favourite songs/pieces of music? Ones you love? Ones you can listen to all the time? And maybe also songs you connect with Azris? You can of course also name classical pieces (could be relevant for the story👀).

You can go into as much detail as you want, I love reading your answers and I am still incredibly happy that I get to gift you.

Yours sincerely,

🤶🏻

Oh god, I’m so excited, omg.

Okay, favorite tropes. “Only one bed” is probably one of my ABSOLUTE favorites. And the moment when one of them looks at the other’s mouth before they’ve acknowledge the Tension ™️ between them!! I am also a sucker for the moments where it’s “will they won’t they” and they both clearly want it in that moment, and then something pulls them away from each other. I don’t have a snappy name for that one lmao. As for favorite lines, i don’t think i have any in canon or in fanfiction, but the more romantic/makes-you-want-to-cry poetry lines always get me. Pablo Neruda (Love Sonnet XVII), Mary Oliver (Wild Geese), ee cummings (I Carry Your Heart) etc. (And ofc select Richard Siken poems.)

In terms of artists whose entire catalogue I could listen to on the regular, Vienna Teng (Dreaming Through the Noise especially) and Keane (Under the Iron Sea especially) are up there. I’m a new convert to Taylor Swift, and “Bigger Than the Whole Sky” kills me every time. (So does “Paper Rings,” but for different reasons.) When it comes to classical music, I love basically anything by Shostakovich and Tchaikovsky. The last movement of Strauss’s “Four Last Songs” (Im Abendrot) gives me goosebumps when it’s not making me cry, and I always cry when I listen to Hilary Hahn’s recording of the second movement of the Barber Violin Concerto. I love Oblivion by Astor Piazzolla; but unfortunately my favorite recording is by Joshua Bell. Caroline Shaw’s Partita for 8 Singers changed me the first time I heard it.

I associate Eris with “This Bitter Earth/On the Nature of Daylight” which is a, like, mash up of Dinah Washington and a string quartet playing a different piece (I think?) and it is so achingly perfect that it haunts me.

But Azris songs? Man, where to start lmao. First, DELIRIOUS BY SUSANE SUNDFOR. Gimme! Gimme Gimme! By ABBA. Never Be the Same by Camila Cabello. Desire by Meg Myers. Closer by NIN. Flesh by Simon Curtis. Hatefuck by The Bravery. Touched by Vast. Close by Nick Jonas and Tove Lo. Everytime We Touch by Cascada. Stray Italian Greyhound by Vienna Teng. So Heavy I Fell Through the Earth by Grimes. Tongue by MNEK. Middle of the Night by Elley Duhe. I Will Possess Your Heart by Death Cab for Cutie. (Strangely, I don’t have any classical pieces that jump out as Azris-coded, mostly just things that make me want to write (which is usually azris lmao))

I think that’s all I’ve got, I could literally go on for hours, tho. I’M SORRY IF IT’S TOO MUCH INFORMATION

Also thank you for calling them pieces?? Most people don’t know to call them that! (Songs have to have words, ofc.) I’m so excited to have you as my secret Santa, sounds like you’ve got some rad ideas kicking around in your noggin!

[animatronicappreciation]

Here’s something you don’t see every day: a behind the scenes picture of Splash Mountain from a past refurbishment!

Look at those nekkid boys!

This takes place during the Laughin’ Place scene! You can see one of the geese from the geese quartet up front, a chicken who I’m not too sure where he came from in the middle, and Saddlesore Swanson in the back! 

Thanks to u/digdugtrio0 for posting this to the r/Animatronics subreddit!

- Mod Possum

[photoblogdujour]

[kozzax]

For a few days now, I've been trying to figure out who in Double Life I think would fall victim to the Soulmate Goose of Enforcement. In case you don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of soulmate tropes and types like I do, here's a quick run-down of what the Goose is:

The Soulmate Goose of Enforcement is a relatively uncommon trope that typically comes alongside a more humorous soulmates one-shot. The specifics of it range from a goose enforcing soulmates that have denied their connection to the goose pushing them together being that connection, but the general premise remains the same for all of them: There is a goose, typically similar to the one from the Untitled Goose Game, who will annoy both you and your soulmate to hell and back until you get together or accept that you're soulmates. It cannot be killed, and it cannot be stopped. It is the Soulmate Goose of Enforcement.

Now, of course, when I remembered its existence a week or so ago I immediately started brainstorming on exactly which Double Life couple the Goose would appear for. The problem is that nearly every couple would be really entertaining with the Goose.

Divorce quartet would obviously have some really fun stuff with the denial of soulmates and the Goose being a nuisance over it. Team Rancher, on the other hand, wouldn't necessarily have to be annoyed by the Goose-- but they do generally have a bird theme in fanart, and white geese like the Soulmate Goose typically is are generally associated with farms and ranches.

Finally, though, I feel that I have determined exactly which pair should have the Soulmate Goose of Enforcement: Bigb and Ren.

It would be really funny, I think. The thing about Bigb and Ren is that for most of the series they're in denial about being a dysfunctional soulmate pair, which in turn would mean that the Goose wouldn't leave them alone. They'd just constantly be being harassed by the Goose of Soulmate Enforcement and neither of them is willing to tell the other that actually he's the reason the Goose is still around.

Also, even after they have their breakup in session three, the world itself demands they stay together and forces them together onto their red lives. This is very much the same sort of vibe that the Soulmate Goose has, though the Goose typically has more of a benevolent spin on it in which it just honks at you until you talk through your issues.

I just think that giving them the Soulmate Goose of Enforcement would be hilarious. Also I think Ren would try to chase it and that would be really funny too.

[dumdumsun]

The Loveliest Lies of All

A/N: Welcome back ❤️

Warnings: none that I'm aware of

Word Count: 3599

—————————————

Chapter Two: Hard Times at the Huskin' Bee

The chirping of crickets, gobbling of turkeys and the honking of the soaring geese above indicated the morning creeping up on the trio (or quartet?). The sound that accompanied the early morning chat of the nearby animals was Greg blowing raspberries to feed his short attention span. Scout was mildly surprised that Wirt hadn’t yet snapped at him, but then again, the teen boy was skilled at blocking out his younger brother.

For the fourth time in the last hour, Scout’s leg had given out on her slightly, causing her to stumble a bit. What she would give to have a chair, a couch, a bed to rest her wounded leg for maybe half an hour. A full one, perhaps? Maybe even two?

“You know what? I think we’re gonna find a town soon,” She chirped. “I can feel it.”

“Well, we need to,” Wirt sighed, staring up at the sky that rained rays of sunshine upon them. “It’s almost morning. We should’ve found one by now. This is the way the Woodsman told us to go, right?”

“Yes, Wirt.”

Greg blew another raspberry before glancing up at his brother with big eyes. “Have you listened to anything I’ve been saying? For the last couple hours, I’ve been saying… Pbbt! Pbbt! Pbbt-”

“Well, that settles it,” He finally snapped. “I’m gonna walk up ten feet ahead of you.” He frowned and walked past the two. Scout sighed and shook her head at her friend in amusement. She failed to notice the boy stop his walking when he heard a voice call out to him.

“I hear something!”

Scout turned to Greg and started towards him. “Wirt, Greg heard something!”

“It’s probably nothing. Hey, look,” Wirt crouched down in front of a sign nailed to a nearby tree. “‘Pottsfield, one mile’. A town! Let’s go this way.”

“Okay. After this, though.” She turned away from him and joined Greg’s side. The boy had been digging into a bush and talking into it. Behind her, she heard Wirt’s footsteps before he was by her side.

“Greg, stop talking to a bush.”

“Okay.” The boy shrugged before reaching into the bush again. Seconds later, the same bluebird from the previous night flew out of the bush and flapped her wings above them.

Scout widened her eyes at the bird. “You!”

“Thanks! I owe you a favor. So, um, you guys are lost kids with no purpose in life, right?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Um-”

“How about I bring you to Adelaide of the Pasture, the Good Woman of the Woods? She could help you get home!”

As the two boys stared at the bird in awe, Scout narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. She didn’t trust this bird for one second. “Adelaide, huh? How’s she gonna help us?”

The bluebird scrunched what would’ve been her brows. “She has powers.”

“What kind of powers?”

“Powers that’ll get you home.”

“Why can’t she just show us the trail that leads us out of here? And why does no one else seem to know the way?”

Wirt exhaled and waved his hands about. “We don’t need magic talking birds leading us to fairy godmothers in the mysterious- I’m going to Pottsfield.”

“Yes. Pottsfield. C’mon, Greg.” Scout grabbed the boy’s hand and followed behind her friend.

“What about the favor?” The bird called.

Greg turned to her with a bright smile. “I’ll think of my wish later!”

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

Scout irritably sighed at the feeling of claws softly digging into her left shoulder. “Hey,” The bird softly started in her ear. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. What’s your name?”

“Just call me Scout.”

“Wait, seriously? Scout?”

The girl snapped her head to look at the bird. “Wanna get off on the wrong foot again?”

“Whoo, someone is sassy,” She gently tapped her cheek with her wing. “Well, Scout, you seem like a very capable young lady. What if I say… we ditch these goons and you come with me to Adelaide?”

Scout rolled her eyes and batted the winged creature off of her shoulder. “Then I say no. Never.”

Rolling her eyes, the bluebird huffed and flew next to Greg, no doubt attempting to convince the poor boy to ditch his brother and walk off with some stranger. Scout knew that Greg was smarter than that, better than that, so she didn’t bother scolding the bird. Noticing her now flapping above his shoulder, the boy brightly smiled. “So, let’s small talk. My name’s Greg. What’s yours?”

“Beatrice.”

“My brother’s name is Wirt.”

“Who cares?”

Wirt frowned and glanced at them over his shoulder. Scout sighed and shook her head.

“And my frog’s name is Wirt Jr.” Greg gently rubbed his frog’s back. “But that may change.”

“Okay. That’s great,” Beatrice lowered her voice as to not alert the two teens in front of them. “How about you and I ditch your brother and his girlfriend?”

Greg hummed in uncertainty and looked away. “Maybe later.”

Scout nearly tripped over a large pumpkin nestled within the patch they walked through. Wirt didn’t notice this and kept his gaze forward. “So, Scout, you’ll do the talking when we get there. Right?”

Huffing, the girl placed her hands on her hips. “If I must, you big wuss.”

“I-I’m not a wuss! I just- Aha!” He cheered and raised his fists triumphantly, the four now standing just above a town. “Civilization, see? Now-”

Scout tried to warn him, but the teen had walked right into a pumpkin. She watched silently with narrowed eyes as he kicked and wiggled his leg out of the vegetable before flinging it to the side. Regaining his composure, he turned forward and set his fists on his hips. “Alright. Let’s rejoin society.”

The “society” the group had walked into lacked one element. A society. There were plenty of houses littering the land, yet not a soul in sight. Rounding a corner, they walked between two houses as Wirt called out for any residents. “Hello? Hello? Hm… See anybody?”

“No,” Greg scanned the area before his eyes landed on his brother. “Oh! I see you!”

Without gaining the others’ attention, Scout slipped away to check inside the houses. They seemed… cozy. Each house was the same; small, single-roomed, and nearly empty. “These townsfolk need to invest in… well, everything…” Scout whispered as she shut the door to the fourth house she inspected.

“Scout!” Wirt called from beside a haystack. “Find anything?”

“Poor interior design, but nothing to help us.” She sighed before joining her friend at his side. “Where’s Greg?”

As if on cue, the young boy poked his head out of the haystack. “Do you hear that?”

From a barn within the distance, cheerful singing could be heard. Scout gasped and helped Greg out of the hay, frowning at the small pumpkin he must have stepped in a while ago, still on his foot. Shaking off her confusion, she let the boy keep his new shoe and followed Wirt into the barn. Peeking in, the group set their sights on something otherworldly.

The townsfolk- is that what they were?- were pumpkins. Well, their bodies were made of pumpkins, string, and actual clothing like hats. Each person had a distinct face drawn onto their pumpkin face, which sent a chill down Scout’s spine. Within the barn, the folk participated in all kinds of activities. Dancing around a tall string object, bobbing for apples, peeling apples, unhusking corn. The likes. They seemed lively, carefree.

“Oh, pardon me there.” A figure spoke as they shoved themselves between a frozen Scout and Wirt. Turning, one of the pumpkin townsfolk faced the group. “Say, you folks ought to don your vegetables and celebrate the harvest with us.”

“Uh… Oh! You’re wearing costumes!” Wirt realized.

“Well, sure. Pumpkins can’t move on their own. Can they?” He shrugged before walking away. Scout gripped Greg’s hand as she watched the pumpkin man go.

“Huh… Well, good thing you’re still wearing that pumpkin shoe, huh Greg?”

Said boy grinned up at Scout. “Yeah! I’m dressed for the occasion!”

Beatrice blinked. “You guys find this place as creepy as I do, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Wirt shrugged as if to reassure himself. “So, it’s some kind of weird cult where they wear vegetable costumes and… dance around a big thing. They seem nice enough.”

Feeling the hollow eyes of one of the townsfolk on her, Scout absentmindedly shuffled closer to Wirt. “There’s something off…”

“Well, maybe I can find someone here who will give us a ride home,” Wirt patted her shoulder comfortingly. “Scout, watch Greg. Greg, listen to Scout. Beatrice, thank you, but you can leave.” He waved the bird off.

Beatrice sighed. “I can’t leave. I’m honor-bound to help you since you helped me. That’s the- bluebird rules.”

Scout raised a brow as Wirt hummed and walked away. Greg’s eyes trailed up to his tea kettle hat that Beatrice sat upon. “Beatrice, did you know that Scout is the best dance partner ever known to man?”

“Awe, shucks, Greg…” Scout chuckled and let the boy lead her onto the dance floor.

“I’m not dancing with you.” Beatrice snipped, but Scout only grinned.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“It’s too late,” She giggled as she and Greg twirled to the music. “We’ve already started.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes and watched as Greg and Scout joined hands with the frog before dancing in a small circle. The bird noted that there was no way she was going to separate the girl from the young boy. She clearly cared about him, if she was willing to dance around like a fool in the middle of a festival hosted by pumpkin people. And not giving any lip about it, at that. Instead, she threw her head back and laughed joyfully with Greg just before a voice broke out and silenced the entire room.

“Leave Pottsfield?! Who wants to leave Pottsfield?!”

The second the townsfolk began crowding around them, Scout pulled Greg into her side, whipping her head in every direction. Greg, oblivious to the danger, smiled casually. “Oh, are we leaving already?”

“Let’s leave immediately!” Beatrice yelled just before the barn went dark. Someone had shut the doors, trapped them in.

“I’m just trying to get home.” Scout heard Wirt’s shaking voice just before he bumped into her side.

The townsfolk backed the group into a wall of more pumpkin heads and bodies as they whispered out,

“They’re not supposed to be here.”

“Maybe he’s here to steal our crops.”

“To ruin our party.”

“Or take off our pumpkin shoes!” Greg chirped, gesturing to his trapped foot.

Wirt widened his eyes and shook his head. “Uh, no. I, uh-”

A deep voice from above chuckled. “Now, hold on, everybody. Heh. Let’s not jump up to any conclusions.”

It appeared that the tall stringed object had not been an object at all. In fact, it was a body for the most menacing-looking pumpkin-folk in the entire barn. He had to crouch just to peek through the shadows, his face drawn to show a large grin of wide teeth, hollow eyes staring into the souls of the children before him.

Wirt and Scout instantly joined hands out of fear.

“Enoch,” The townsfolk who ratted them out called. “What shall we do with them?”

“Now, let’s see here, children,” Enoch detached two strings from the ceiling to act as his arms. “How’d you end up in this little town of ours?”

In a jumbled mess, Wirt and Scout spoke over each other,

“We needed to get home-”

“We were lost in the woods-”

“Then we saw your farms-”

“And your very interesting houses and thought that this was a normal place to ask for help.”

“And we all stepped on pumpkins!” Greg grinned before Scout shook her head.

“I-I didn’t! I didn’t step on any pumpkins!”

Wirt tightened his hold on her hand. “Yeah! Well… Yeah! A-And then we heard the music from the barn, and well… uh…”

“What if we just left?” Scout tried.

Enoch chuckled yet again, contradicting the very tense atmosphere within the barn. “Now, let me get this straight: you come to our town, you trample our crops, you interrupt our private engagement, and now you wanna leave?”

She blinked. “Well, when you put it like that, it makes us look bad…”

“You’ll never convict! You have no proof!” Greg shouted, almost tripping on the pumpkin his foot resided in.

The same elderly townsfolk walked over to the group, a struggling Beatrice in his hands. “This one’s trying to escape!”

“Let me go!” She cried out. “I don’t know these clowns!”

“Children,” Enoch started. “It saddens me that you don’t wish to stay here with us… particularly because I simply have to punish you for your transgressions.”

“I knew it,” Scout whispered in Wirt’s ear. “I knew they were messed up here.”

Enoch started out his next words in a sing-song tune. “So, by the order of the Pottsfield Chamber of Commerce, I find you guilty of trespassing, destruction of property, disturbing the peace… and murder.”

“Murder?!” The teens shrieked.

“Oh, no, not murder,” Enoch snorted. “But for those other crimes, I sentence you to…”

Scout held her breath.

“A few hours of manual labor.”

And then slowly let it out.

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

“Is that the last of it?” Scout asked after plunging her rake into the ground.

“Yup. That’s all the hay.” Wirt wiped a line of sweat from his forehead. “Guess that means we move onto… picking the pumpkins, right?”

“Girl!” A voice shouted out. The group turned to see a townsfolk walking up to them. “Not so fast, young lady. We need you for a special job.”

Scout and Wirt shared a look. “What… kind of special job?”

“We need a scarecrow. Need someone with nimble fingers. Gather this hay here and follow me.”

“Uh, yes, sir.” Scout quickly dumped the pile of hay into a wheelbarrow and pushed it behind the retreating pumpkin figure. She sent a reassuring smile over her shoulder at her friends. This seemed to almost do the job for Wirt, the poor boy wringing his hands together.

“She’ll be fine…”

After picking pumpkins, loading them onto a wagon, and then being bullied by turkeys (this was specifically Wirt), the group minus Scout was directed to the cornfield, baskets in hand. When approaching the clearing, the three reared back at the horrible figure displayed before them.

Its haunting grin stretched across its straw face, gangly limbs made of hay and straw, the body propped on a wooden pole. The top of its head lay open, some hay trickling from it. Beside the scarecrow was a ladder, now being climbed by Scout, who beamed at the boys and Beatrice. “Hey, there!”

“Whoo, that thing sure is ugly.” Beatrice whistled.

“He’s my pride and joy.”

Wirt wordlessly started picking the corn as Greg ran up to his friend. “Scout! I missed you so much! You missed it! The turkeys took Wirt’s hat right off his head and wore it! You should’ve seen the way Wirt jumped all around to get it-”

“Alright, Greg, that’s enough.” Wirt muttered. When Scout cackled, he snapped his head up to her. “Hey, what’re you laughing at? Your scarecrow’s head isn’t even closed! He looks like… like he’s lost his mind! Ha!”

“Stop worrying about my scarecrow and worry about your corn!” Scout pointed at him just before a stalk of corn Greg let go of had smacked the teen in his face. Wirt cried out and fell onto his back. He turned his head to the side to see Beatrice smirking at him. “Hey, guys?” Scout quietly called.

“Yeah?” Wirt turned to his friend, who stared off in the distance.

“They’re watching us like hawks…”

Once their work in the cornfield was finished, the four were sent to a large mass of empty land. Their only instruction: dig holes. Seeing as Greg was a very young and short-spanned kid, Scout took it upon herself to help the boy dig his hole and Wirt dug his own. “Scout?” Greg quietly called out, slightly winded from the work. “What if we find buried treasure?”

The girl hummed. “You think that’s why they’re having us do this? To find treasure?”

“Could be,” He shrugged before gasping. “Wait, that means we’re doin’ all the hard work and they get the pay!”

“The ways of the world, Gregory.” Scout tapped his nose. “But I’ll let you snag some.”

The two shared a laugh before Scout plunged her shovel into the ground, coming into contact with something. “Oh, hey, I found something!” She gasped.

“Buried treasure! Wirt!” Greg called out, catching the attention of his brother and their bluebird companion. “Scout found buried treasure!”

“Whoa, really?” Wirt awed as Scout ducked down to check what she found. “See, Beatrice? What’d you find, Scout?”

Wirt and Beatrice hadn’t expected to hear the girl’s frightened scream. They both flinched at the sound as Scout’s head popped up. “Greg, don’t touch it! Oh, god, get me out of here!”

“What?! What is it?!” Wirt widened his eyes and watched as Scout scrambled her way out of the hole. Greg smiled and shifted his body to reveal the skeleton laying in the hole.

“A skeleton!”

“Don’t touch it, Greg!” Scout warned. “We don’t know who that is!”

Wirt moved back and cried out in fear as Beatrice raised her brows, slightly amused. “We’re digging our own… I-I-I was wrong. I was wrong all along. I-I don’t know how to get us home. U-Use your little feet to pick our locks!”

“Oh, ho! Now you want my help?” Beatrice sassed.

“I don’t want your help-”

“Yes, he does!” Scout shouted. “Beatrice, please! At least get Greg out first!”

Any other words of plea died on her tongue at the sight of Enoch’s form moving towards them from a distance. Wirt whirled back to Beatrice, terrified. “Yes, she’s right, I want your help! Beatrice, serio-”

“Your time is up!”

“Aah!” Wirt screamed at the whole town who now crowded them once again. Scout sank back down into the hole and pulled Greg close. Shaking in his spot, Wirt stared up at Enoch, who only glanced down at the holes.

“Have the holes been dug?” A townsperson asked.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Splendid! Well, then-”

“But no.”

“No?”

Wirt blinked down at his feet before snapping his head back up to the townsfolk. “Right! Yeah… Uh, you know, we were digging, and there were too many rocks. You guys don’t like rocks, right?”

Scout narrowed her eyes as they all agreed with Wirt. “What is he doing…? We need to get out of here.”

Within the next second, Beatrice flew down into their hole, her foot free of its chain. As Wirt continued to babble, she freed Greg and then Scout, the three (plus the frog) booking it out of Pottsfield. By the time they were back in the woods, Scout’s chest burned and her leg pulsed in pain. Leaning against a tree, she sighed out and scanned the area around her. “W-Where’s Wirt?”

“Uh… Back with the pumpkin people?” Beatrice shrugged.

“What- Why?! Did you free him?!”

“Yes! I don’t know what that fool is doing!”

Scout let out a grunt of frustration. “Okay, okay. Just… watch Greg, don’t move. I’ll be right back!” She turned on her heel and rushed back towards the empty field. Cutting through the grass, she found her friend lying on his side. “Wirt!” She whispered.

He whipped his head to her, eyes wide and angry. “Where the heck did you guys go?!”

“We escaped! Why didn’t you?!”

“You guys just left me!”

Scout rolled her eyes and pulled Wirt to his feet, the boy realizing his ankle was free of its chain all this time. Dumbfounded, he let her lead him back into the woods. When he snapped back into reality, he broke into a sprint, eventually making his way to his brother and Beatrice. Bracing his hands on his knees, he took very deep breaths. “Are they chasing us?”

“No.”

He let out one last breath before standing up straight. “I-I thought you guys-”

“You’re welcome.” Beatrice smiled a bit. Wirt bowed his head.

“Thank you… I guess we’re even now, huh? You aren’t honor-bound to help us anymore?”

“I wish,” She rolled her eyes. “But you weren’t actually in any danger with those weirdos.”

Wirt grinned. “Oh, yeah! Then you still have to help us get home!”

“I got it!” Greg picked up his frog. “I wish Wirt Jr had fingernails so he could play the guitar better!”

A beat of silence passed before a voice cut through, “An odd time to tune in.”

The three turned to Scout, who approached them with a limp. Wirt frowned at this. “You weren’t running with me?”

“No, I told you they weren’t chasing us.”

“O-Oh…”

Beatrice hummed and turned back to Wirt. “So… yeah! I’ll bring you to Adelaide. I mean, that’s where I’m going anyway.”

As they began their journey ahead, Wirt wrapped Scout’s arm around his waist to support her. “Oh, yeah? What’re you going to Adelaide for?” The girl asked with a small smile.

“I guess, in some ways, I’m trying to get home, too.”

“That’s vague,” Wirt tilted his head. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Scout sharply inhaled. “Touchy…”

“Well, I sure hope Adelaide is more helpful than that Woodsman was. I think his directions were… not very good.”

Scout nodded her head in agreement, leaning into Wirt’s shoulder as they continued down the autumn-decorated wood.

—————————————

Taglist: @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner

[edie-baby]

baby girls - chapter two | lando norris

Chapter Two: Perhaps

summary: What's the best way to tell the guy you like that you have a kid? Well, lying about it and making him think you're cheating isn't the best tactic, Mila's about to find that out the hard way.

word count: 1650

warnings: swearing, absentee father (the asshole ex has evolved)

last chapter

Dreaming of a perfect man while on a perfect vacation in the perfect scenery was, well, perfect. Until the dream ended, and Mila was forced back into reality by the wails of her daughter coming from the next room, the heartbreaking sound kicked Mila’s motherly instincts into high gear, her sleep-addled brain coming into a laser sharp focus within a split second.

“Hey baby girl, what’s going on?” Mila spoke, scooping Mahri into her arms with practiced ease. Mahri’s sobs quieted almost instantaneously, her tears still tracking down her face with a vengeance. Mila tried wiping the tears away, but they were replaced just as quickly.

“It’s okay, just breathe bubs. Whatever’s making you upset, we can fix. It’s all good.” Mila whispered, bouncing Mahri around the room as it had calmed her down when she was just a baby.

“I want Daddy.” Mahri cried, and Mila could have collapsed at the weight of the words the toddler had said. There was a large hole in both of their lives in the exact shape and size of Mahri’s father. Once high school sweethearts, now sworn enemies.

As much as Mila tried to block out all thoughts and feelings related to Mahri’s dad, she couldn’t blame the kid for missing a man Mila herself found missing sometimes. Matyas was Mila’s first love, her boyfriend since 8th grade, and her best friend since kindergarten. They had grown up side by side, acknowledging they had crushes on each other in their second year of high school, and having a baby together by the second last.

Matyas and Mila, contrary to most’s predictions, had stayed together through her pregnancy, and even for a while after Mahri was born. Matyas would bring all of Mila’s schoolwork home and help her work through assessments while she was pregnant, and once Mahri was born, they alternated taking days off school to babysit when members of their family couldn’t.

But something Mila had never admitted to others was that Matyas was an asshole, only kicking into higher gear once they had both finished school. Mila had an acceptance letter for university and a part time job lined up, whilst Matyas hadn’t even bothered looking, preferring to use the excuse of ‘I have a child’ to stop him from venturing into the adult world. Despite this, cooking, cleaning, and looking after the baby was Mila’s job, obviously because she was the woman, the mother.

When Mila finally decided to end her toxic relationship with her lifelong best friend, she was villainized for it. Her parents and friends blamed her for tearing her own family apart, whilst her older siblings were more than supportive, having accidentally witnessed Matyas’ less than desirable traits. Up until about six months ago, Matyas would visit regularly, taking Mahri for her swimming classes, and playing with her at the park, occasionally taking her for the day to save Mila some money on daycare.

However, much like any tale of a teenager, Matyas was single and lonely, and a barrier to being in a relationship was the fact that he had become a father at seventeen. It wasn’t exactly a big check mark next to his name, so when he had told Mila he needed to move on, find someone special, she didn’t anticipate that meant moving on from his daughter. Six months with no contact was the longest Mahri had ever gone without seeing her father, and it was the longest Mila had ever gone without seeing him. Mila didn’t have the heart to tell Mahri, who looked at Matyas as though he hung the stars, that her father wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Yet as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, Mahri’s cries for her dad became all the more heartbreaking.

“I know, baby girl. But he’s on holiday, remember? He’s having lots of fun in Limbo.” Mila lied, continuing to rock her daughter in her arms, heart feeling heavy as stone at the blatant lies she was forced to tell her daughter just because her ex-boyfriend was a coward.

“I want a new daddy.” Mahri whispered, giving up on keeping her head up, preferring to let it fall heavily onto her mum’s shoulder. Mila couldn’t help but chuckle silently, the unfiltered, mumbled by age, words that her daughter came out with sometimes were what kept Mila going. With a few more bounces, Mila was sure her daughter had fallen back into a deep slumber and moved to lay her back in the small bed, covered with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.

Mahri’s words echoed in Mila’s head, and as she reached for her phone to send yet another unanswered text to Matyas, Lando’s face appeared on her screen, an incoming FaceTime call that was as daunting as it was exciting. Mila looked over her shoulder, listening for any movement from Mahri before she answered the call, setting her phone against the toaster on the kitchen counter as she began brewing some coffee. It was nearing five in the morning, and knowing she would be usually waking up in an hour and a half meant it was going to be a caffeine fueled day.

“Hey baby boy.” Mila spoke a moment after the call had connected, looking down at the phone to see Lando’s tired face, snuggled up in bed with a small smile on his face. His smile only growing when he heard the fond nickname fall from Mila’s lips.

“Hi love. Why are you making coffee? It’s so late.” Lando mumbled, squinting to get a better look at what Mila was doing in front of him. His eyes devoured her figure, a large tshirt covering the tops of her thighs, and from what he could see, or lack thereof, she wasn’t wearing pants.

“Actually, it’s early. It’s a bit past five at the moment.” Mila replied, giggling at the way Lando seemed entranced by the view of her bare skin, smiling fondly when he snapped out of the trance at the sound of her joy.

“What the fuck are you doing up so early?” Lando almost shrieked, the volume of it causing Mila to startle forward, pressing incessantly at the buttons on her phone to lower the sound, checking over her shoulder paranoid that the gorgeous Brit had woken her barely sleeping baby.

“Oh, sorry. Do you have someone over?” Lando mumbled, looking crestfallen as he recognised the anxious look on Mila’s face. He couldn’t have been so naive to think that a woman as gorgeous as her wouldn’t have company on a Friday night - Saturday morning for her - and it had been about four days since they had spoken, he should have known.

“Uh, kind of. But no, but yes. Fuck.” Mila cursed, trying to find the right way to tell Lando that, yes, indeed she was worried he had woken someone up, but no, it wasn’t the kind of someone he was thinking of. She watched as Lando gulped, his mind spiralling with images of Mila with someone else, and although he had seen it in Austria, it hurt to know that their week together hadn’t meant as much to her as it did him.

“That’s alright. I’ll, um, let you get back to that, I guess. I’m sorry I called.” Lando muttered, moving to end the call when Mila panicked, the thought of hurting the man she was falling in love with had overridden her fears of him freaking out over the fact that she came with a lot more baggage than initially thought.

“I’ll call you later, baby boy, I promise. I want to talk to you, now just isn’t really a good time. I’m sorry.” Mila’s voice was trembling, she could see Lando’s want to get out of the conversation and never speak to her again, and it was the very last thing she wanted.

“It’s fine, you have your own life. We’ll talk soon. Bye.” Lando finished, his voice curt and clipped, but Mila could very clearly see the hurt hidden beneath the thin veil. She felt a piece of her heart break at the sight, knowing she was not only lying to him, but also causing him pain whilst she did so made her question whether it was really worth it hiding the little ball of energy in the next room.

Before Mila could reply, the call cut out, and she was left staring at the photo of herself, Victoria, and the twitch quartet on her lockscreen, something she had changed to remind herself of the amazing week she spent with some new lifelong friends.

Mila unlocked her phone, desperate to get away from the look she and Lando gave each other, preferring to admire her home screen, a photo from hers and Mahri’s most recent adventure to the park, Mahri laughing her ass off at Mila, who was very scaredly looking at the flock of geese running toward them while she took the photo.

Of course she had to give birth to a sadist, and if she was honest, she’d take that over the obvious masochistic trait she had been born with. The conversation with Lando replayed in her mind a million times, part of her wondering why she couldn’t just own the fuck up and tell him she had a kid. It wasn’t like she was telling him she wanted kids with him, or that he already had a kid, fuck if he didn’t want to, she probably wouldn’t introduce him to Mahri for years.

Yes, Mahri was her number one priority, but she couldn’t live her entire life for her child. She was nineteen, a gorgeous woman, and she deserved to be loved. Perhaps she could live her life with her child, and perhaps with someone else too.

But after today? She wasn’t sure she’d get the chance to even try.

[westmoor]

an amalgamation of means to no end

And above the lilies weep (folklore insp, death tw) one // two // ao3

In the blue  (*gestures vaguely*!jasker, violence tw) // i dreamed a dream - of sand on the shore - we see what we seem - the ocean still roars // ao3 

shapeshifter!jaskier // the fox - the hare - the hart

horror writer jaskier (modern AU) on ao3 

drabbles

follow the sun (geraskier) // sparrow, hound and dragon (yennefer) // sacrifice // the witch elm (yennefer, jaskier)

snippets & ficlets

Geraskier(ish) // Canon era // through a field of poppies (mcd) // geralt isn’t sure when his perspective shifts // the sounds of jaskier falling asleep // something prowling their periphery // love is for simple folk // wild geese (headed home) // all hallows // light of morning // of men and horses // kaer morhen quartet // the Wifey Records // a whole song about horses // oxenfurt in winter // liminal space // spiders // shooting stars Other/Modern AUs // winter spice // every night he takes the last train out of town // happy new year // Red Cross au

Undefined pairings/Gen fics under the cut!

🟣🟡 resignation // post-mountain 🟣🟡 by shit luck and circumstance // humor 🟡⚫ jaskier sends vesemir a book // found family adjacent 🟡🔴 a friend in need (jaskier’s pov) // comfort fic 🟡🔴 none go hungry // winter in kaer morhen 🟣🔵 burn it all down // alcohol m 🟡🟣 rooted deep // au-ish gestures vaguely!jaskier

🟡 jaskier // 🟣 yennefer // 🔴 eskel // 🔵 lambert // ⚫ vesemir

[disneyat34]

The Aristocats at 34

A review by Adam D. Jaspering

The second Disney Dark Age was defined by a series of decisions resulting in decreased film quality. Some decisions were timesavers, prioritizing efficiency above craft. Some were financial decisions, scaling back ambition, favoring simplicity. Some of it was a general sense of disillusionment. The glory days of the Disney empire were gone. Animation as a medium was in a rut. The prestige of working in cartoons was akin to working on an assembly line.

The Aristocats was never a children’s book, fairy tale, or published story. It was an original concept by writers Tom Rowe and Tom McGowan for Disney’s Wonderful World of Color. In 1961, they were instructed to develop stories featuring animal protagonists.

One of the stories involved a family of cats forced from their home by an evil butler and maid. The cats would hide around Paris, staying safe, exploring the locales, having adventures. This was the first draft of The Aristocats.

For years, the writers worked and re-worked the story as a two-part, live-action, made-for-TV movie. From every angle, The Aristocats was infeasible. The writers were trapped in an endless cycle of revision, rejection, revision, rejection. By 1966, they gave up. With so much time, money, and effort sunk, they recouped their losses by selling the treatise to Disney Animation Studios.

The animated medium worked to the writers’ advantage. The cats could now talk, react, move, emote, and think like more than simple house pets. It made completing the script much simpler. However, that was the only advantage earned.

The greatest indicator of the troubled writing process is how heavily the movie borrows ideas from previous Disney films. Disney had made films about pets in trouble before, and they were successes. To copy their success, The Aristocats copied a number of plot elements and themes.

Consider what is lifted from 101 Dalmatians. Someone nefarious kidnaps a bunch of beloved pets. The pets evade their captor, and are forced on an arduous trek back home. They find respite only through the hospitality of other animals along the way.

Consider what is lifted from Lady and the Tramp. A spoiled pet, accustomed to love and indoor life, is forced from home. They find a streetwise transient with a heart of gold who agrees to help. Over time, love blooms despite the pair coming from two different worlds.

The Aristocats is a shameless blend of 101 Dalmatians and Lady and the Tramp, simply substituting the dogs with cats. It offers nothing unique. What it lifts, it doesn’t improve on.

The xerographic animation is the worst its ever been. Xerography has always resulted in scratches, inconsistent line widths, and rough details. In The Aristocats, it’s laughably bad. Lines are sketchy, frayed, and wiry. In wide shots, character outlines are too thick. On close-ups, outlines are too thin. Errant reference lines are left in place, never cleaned before going to print. Detail lines are too bold and garish. The animators were either getting sloppy or lazy.

The female lead of the movie is Duchess, a white angora cat. She is voiced by Hollywood actress Eva Gabor. Gabor is best known for the sitcom Green Acres, where she played a socialite unwillingly relocated to a country setting. She admirably plays Duchess, a cat socialite unwillingly relocated to a country setting. 

Gabor lends an air of nobility and sophistication to the character. Unfortunately, she never fully hides her Hungarian accent. She slips between her natural voice and a French affectation, creating a definite European sound, but not of any particular area.

Duchess’s three kittens are Marie (white, voiced by Liz English), Berlioz (black, voiced by Dean Clark), and Toulouse (orange, voiced by Gary Dubin). All three are voiced by American children and speak in an American accent.

In most Disney movies, young characters are voiced  by actual children. The same is true for The Aristocats. Unfortunately, the three actors here are among the worst the studio has ever seen. The children lack a sense of timing and awareness in their recitations. Everything they say is forced and toneless. They’re not acting, just reciting the script. It’s made all the worse they don’t project, delivering their lines quietly and without passion into the microphone. Every line sounds as though they have sore throats and stuffy noses.

The male lead is O’Malley, an orange piebald shorthair voiced by Phil Harris. Phil Harris voiced Baloo in The Jungle Book, and was acclaimed for bringing the bon vivant bear to life. It’s no surprise, in a film that has already recycled so much, it recycles an entire character. Phil Harris gives O’Malley Baloo’s relaxed nature, cocky arrogance, love of music, and budding paternal instincts. The only difference between O'Malley and Baloo are their species.

The plot of the film centers around Madame Bonfamille, an elder Frenchwoman of notable wealth. An aging woman, she meets with a lawyer to draft a will. With no spouse and no living family, she bequeaths her estate and all monetary goods to her beloved cats.

This enrages her longtime, long-suffering butler, Edgar. So much so, he conspires to kill the cats, leaving him the sole beneficiary. The evil maid from the original story spec was written out completely.

There is so much to unpack in such a confounding setup. The first among them, Madame Bonfamille won’t relinquish her estate until she dies. She appears to be in her 70s, but is still fully ambulatory, healthy, and mentally sound. She won’t be passing on anytime soon.

So why would Edgar attempt to kill the cats immediately? If he killed the cats now, Madame Bonfamille would adopt new cats and start the cycle anew. Why wouldn’t he kill the cats when Madame Bonfamille is closer to death? If she’s enfeebled or incapacitated, she’d be unable to amend her will.

Let’s give Edgar the benefit of the doubt and assume he panicked. He was blinded by greed. He was offended his boss would discount his years of loyal service. He’s seen as lesser than a quartet of creatures who use a litter box. He didn’t consider the ramifications of preemptive catslaughter. The insult caught him off-guard.

If Edgar behaved rationally, bided his time, and planned a perfect murder, killing the cats would still be stupid. Without researching French estate law of the early 20th century, we can reasonably assume a person cannot name pets as beneficiaries. In which case, the will’s stipulations would be voided and Edgar would inherit the estate.

Assuming it’s unconventional but acceptable, the cats would need a caretaker. What would cats do with such money? Cats can’t shop, can’t pay bills, can’t pay taxes. Edgar would almost certainly be given power of attorney over the cats. He’d live in the manor, be granted a trust fund, and all in exchange for occasionally feeding a few cats. The cats would legally own the wealth, but Edgar would be in charge of where it’s spent. Edgar would get everything anyways, and his hands would be clean.

Even for a kid’s movie, the plot is overly simple and collapses under scrutiny. After so many rewrites and changing of hands, standards dropped noticeably. Nine different writers worked on this movie. The filmmakers had no expectations of the script beyond “complete” and “printed on paper.” The Aristocats is no masterstroke. But maybe it was never intended to be.

It’s never been officially stated, but in an era of financial instability, it’s easy to see the appeal of The Aristocats. A paper-thin plot is an acceptable concession to showcase a bunch of dancing and singing cats.

Disney had never made a cat movie. Disney had made dog movies, and subsequently sold dog toys and dog merchandise. But some people like cats more than dogs. There was an untapped market for cat toys and cat merchandise. All they needed was a cat movie. The plot was irrelevant.

The stakes of the movie are incredibly low. In 101 Dalmatians, the dogs are forced to walk from the outskirts of town back into London. It’s an arduous journey. The weather is harsh and unforgivable. The puppies are tired and hungry. The villain is actively on their trail, ready to attack at any minute.

In The Aristocats, the cats are forced to walk from the outskirts of town back into Paris. It’s a leisurely walk through the countryside. The weather is pleasant and sunny. Edgar doesn’t pursue the cats, assuming them already dead.

The cats were carted off somehow, and now must return home. Their journey isn’t one of survival, just inconvenience. It’s all the tension of a motorist running out of fuel and walking to the nearest gas station.

The plot is so razor thin, characters and vignettes are introduced that do nothing except pad the runtime. After O'Malley falls in a river, he’s saved by a pair geese. It’s an Avis Ex Machina.

Their contribution to the story fulfilled, the geese do not waddle off. The cats follow them into town. There, we meet the geese’s drunken uncle. The drunken uncle does nothing of significance or importance. He stumbles, confused, dizzy, inebriated in a misguided attempt at humor. It’s funny because he abuses intoxicants. Enjoy, kids!

When Edgar attempts to dispose of the cats, his efforts are interrupted by two hound dogs. These dogs chase his motorcycle, causing Edgar to crash. In order to escape without being mauled, Edgar leaves the sidecar and several personal effects behind. He’s forced to return the next day to retrieve the incriminating evidence.

Why these two dogs are so territorial is inexplicable. They don’t just chase Edgar’s motorcycle, they declare a vendetta against him. They chase him off, they chase him back, they even steal the motorcycle and attempt to run him down. If Edgar wasn’t literally trying to drown kittens, the dogs would easily be the villains of the movie.

The dogs have Georgia accents. There’s no reason why. They live in France, just the same as any other character. Should we assume the dogs immigrated from the American south just to work on a farm in a new country? Were they adopted by French farmers from breeders across the Atlantic?

Simply put, they’re hound dogs. Hound dogs are stereotypically southern. It would be silly to have them speak French. It’s also silly to have two characters with Georgian accents in the French countryside. There were no good solutions here.

There’s also a Chinese cat who supplants his L’s with R’s when he speaks. He has buck teeth and squinty eyes. He carries chopsticks around with him. The Aristocats copied so much from Lady and the Tramp, why wouldn’t it also copy its racist stereotypes?

Madame Bonfamille and Duchess are the only characters in the film to have French accents. The rest of the characters speak with American, British, and Appalachian accents. For a film set in France, an array of English dialects is distracting and confusing.

Maurice Chevalier sings the film’s title song. Disney secured a French icon, but shied away from the French language. French accents were either too distracting or too indecipherable. At the least, the replacement accents should be consistent.

The French setting was entwined with The Aristocats since its Disney’s Wonderful World of Color days. Producer Harry Tytle is credited with setting the film in Paris. The intention was, what 101 Dalmatians did for London, The Aristocats would do for Paris. Yet another idea borrowed from 101 Dalmatians.

While The Aristocats is set in France, there’s nothing specifically French about its setting. Except for the establishing shots, the movie could just as easily be set in Montreal or Stockholm. Most of the movie is set in a faceless countryside or indistinct buildings.

The other puzzling aspect of the setting is when exactly this movie takes place. The movie insists the year is 1910; the vehicles, furniture, clothing, mannerisms, etc support the assertation. But Scat Cat and his crew are cats out of time.

Scat Cat is a jazz musician (voiced by Scatman Crothers, hence the name). Scat Cat and his band are close friends of O'Malley, later becoming friends with Duchess and her kittens. The band play anachronistic, 60s-era swing jazz.

While jazz music did exist in the 1910s, it was closer to its Dixieland and ragtime forbearers. It certainly wasn’t present in France. Jazz didn’t reach French ears until WWI, introduced by American soldiers. All that’s beside the point; Scat Cat and his crew come straight out of the Kennedy era.

Anachronistic music has never been a problem in Disney films, but early 60s music in a 70s movie set in the 1910s is a disastrous choice. 70s music would be acceptable. 1910s music would be acceptable. Even 40s music, splitting the difference, would be an acceptable choice.

Music can’t be used in a movie just because somebody on staff likes the song. It needs to fit the film, of course, but it also needs to be either modern and contemporary, or a nostalgic throwback. It’s the exact reason the Sherman Brothers shirked from using a rock and roll song in The Jungle Book.

60s jazz is dated, irrelevant, and distracting. It doesn’t belong in the movie. It doesn’t fit the setting. It’s not old enough to be classic, and not new enough to be relevant. It makes Disney seem like their finger is off the pulse. But there were big jazzy numbers in The Jungle Book, and The Jungle Book was a success. So The Aristocats also got a big jazzy number, even if it makes zero sense.

The Aristocats is a mess from the bottom up. The paper thin plot is a discarded treatise no one else wanted to make. It’s puffed up with unnecessary scenes and characters that contribute nothing. What little is offered is blatantly recycled from other Disney pictures. The animation is among the worst ever proffered from Disney Animation Studios. The characters are bland and undefined, the setting is underutilized, and the ending is so conveniently contrived, you can tell precisely when the screenwriters threw their hands up in frustration.

It may be unfair to place the failure of The Aristocats on Disney Studios alone. The 1970s was a dark age for animation in general. The decline of the studio system in the 1960s had a ripple effect into the animation industry. Theatrical shorts from MGM, Warner Bros, Universal, Paramount, and Disney themselves ceased in the mid-60s. Animation was becoming outdated and irrelevant.

The end of the era would be tragic, but animation wasn’t a dead medium. Ironically, the rise of Saturday morning cartoons on television meant animation had a larger audience than ever. But without studio financing and prestige, cartoons were churned out cheaper, quicker, and with smaller returns. There was a market demand without standards or incentive. It was a no-win situation.

Still suffering from Walt’s death years ago, Disney Animation Studios was under financial strains and a creative dry spell. Disney animation was coasting on nostalgia, constantly in danger of being shut down. The board of directors only needed one excuse.

The filmmakers cut every corner and made every concession. In doing so, The Aristocats came in underbudget, and turned a profit. In financial terms, the movie was a success. And while the film has its share of fans and defenders, from a cinematic standpoint, in every other sense, it is a disaster. Disney Studios proved cats don’t always land on their feet.

Fantasia Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs Cinderella Alice in Wonderland Sleeping Beauty Pinocchio The Jungle Book The Sword in the Stone Bambi 101 Dalmatians The Three Caballeros Lady and the Tramp Peter Pan Dumbo Melody Time Saludos Amigos The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad The Aristocats Fun and Fancy Free Make Mine Music

[dansnaturepictures]

29/03/2021-Monday off: Part 3 of 3-The wildlife photos and story of my second stint at Lakeside: 10 more different pictures in this photoset to those I tweeted tonight 

The Peacock was still flitting around on the path when I arrived back at Lakeside. I then went through the southern fenced off nature reserve area taking the first picture in this photoset a macro one of blossom and bee nearby. As I reached the woods in this area it was like stepping through the wardrobe into Narnia going through a little path into the woods as I was enchanted once more to see the gorgeous snake’s-head fritillaries on the woodland floor which I was captivated to see last Tuesday. With me based at home for work still although I was off today and am tomorrow everything is happening at a great volume still so if I see particular wildlife and photograph it at Lakeside I am likely to do it again on subsequent walks so I could not resist another bite of the snake’s-head fritillary cherry and seeing them is the sweetest of fruits. It was smashing to take in these endlessly beautiful flowers again today. I just stood and took them in for a bit, I would like to revise my statement last week saying there were around 20 of them as its more like 40. I felt so very lucky to be able to take alongside other ones I tweeted the second and third pictures in this photoset of them I got some unique angles to last week and previous years I thought. I took the fourth picture in this photoset looking up as I walked on. In this field I would go on to see a Chiffchaff my first at Lakeside this spring after hearing my first hear last week it was a year tick elsewhere in January.

In the glorious and warm afternoon sunshine I carried on and was delighted to see the Kestrel from earlier hovering high above Concorde lake where I focused my attentions of the second slot of time at Lakeside. It of course wasn’t actually over the lake as they’re not aquatic birds of prey but over the meadow area beside it but I’d still never seen a Kestrel over this bit of the country park before whilst I have seen Buzzard there before so this was interesting. I saw it flying off above me later on too. I walked around Concorde lake to look more at the famous Great Crested Grebe pair which are currently courting. Walking under trees around the lake I heard a Chiffchaff again and I got a brilliant view of a Chaffinch among green buds. I took the fifth picture in this photoset of a Greylag Goose very closely on Concorde lake it was a pleasure to see the beautiful Greylag Geese very closely around this lake again today. 

I then had a little look in the woods in an area that has a big bench and here I caught sight of another butterfly flying, the beautiful orange Comma as it came towards me. I saw it and was so thrilled to see it, my first of the year. It was my fourth earliest ever sighting of a Comma a butterfly I have certainly had to wait to see at times in years so it felt really good to get this one seen. My fourth butterfly species seen this year. Greeted by the delightful call of a Robin I walked on. 

Here I took the valuable time I wouldn’t have much of on a work lunch break to stand and watch from a fishing jetty the Great Crested Grebe pair. I was so happy to once again this year see them doing the little bits of courtship if not the whole iconic display. This included them swimming towards each other and erecting their necks and facing each other which made me feel very excited mostly out of anticipation. I enjoyed seeing one of them building a bit of a nest too. It was so beautiful and stunning to see these birds and take in this behaviour and also be so close to them and be able to take them in so intimately it really was a stunning wild moment and I felt supremely connected to nature with one of my very favourite species which I have loved seeing here for so many years and is such an important part of my journey with this species and birdwatching and this hobby generally as I have said before. I am so excited for the rest of the journey with these birds this year it did feel me with glee seeing these today. I took the sixth picture in this photoset of the grebes among others. The grebes and the snake’s-head fritillaries were the stars of lunch breaks last week I quite wanted to see again on these days off here and I loved seeing both of them again so much. As I stood on this jetty I was happy to notice a  Moorhen’s nest right beside me most of the other usual water birds here are nesting nicely again and two more Greylag Geese walked right beside me and went into the lake another nicely connected moment. 

As I walked on it became a truly brilliant day of flowers as I saw the grass beside the lake adorned by a spring time favourites the cowslips I recalled seeing them when I did the snake’s-head fritillaries a year ago today so I wondered when I might see them again. The grass was brimming with their delicate yellow and greenness. I took the seventh picture in this photoset of these. As I walked on back to the area I’d seen both Peacock and Brimstone I re-acquainted myself with some periwinkle I’d noticed here on the dog walk. It was great to see a lot of it among greenery, a flower I’d only learnt this year in a flower bed at Lakeside just over a week ago the flower bed by the visitor centre these were in more wild settings today. Here also I was over the moon to spot a flower I’ve long since known when I saw my all important first bluebells of the year one or two which I tweeted a picture of, they looked so pretty and I liked seeing them. I walked on to behind the steam railway station and took a macro picture of the sea of daffodils on a verge there. I got a top view of a Wren just further on and some more lesser celandine. 

As I reached the area I know as Marbled White meadow my strong butterfly day too went up a notch. By this point I was really after another year first today, the all important first butterfly picture taken with my macro lens this year. Peacock was looking the more likely to do it with a few were landing and I did manage it with the ninth picture in this photoset. I didn’t get as close as I would have liked to be able to take the macro picture right up close, but I managed this one. The butterfly flew up as I was leaning in trying to take a picture of it and it flew up. I worried I had scared it away but I saw its shadow on the grass as it flew. I looked up and there it was battling with another, its presence had got the original one up most probably. A great bit of behaviour and I loved walking through the meadow area with it adorned by blossom in a big way I was stunned to take in so much blossom as it almost blocked out the bright gorse with its own brightness. Then I made my way back studying the blossom surrounding the allotments where I had seen a Small Tortoiseshell a couple of years ago one I needed to see too but I didn’t see one. I did however see another Peacock which I got a macro photo of which I tweeted. There was then a sweet cameo from one of my favourite butterflies the Red Admiral I was very happy to see and get a macro picture probably better than any of the Peacocks for me as I tweeted. This represented the always very interesting and something you can only do at one stage in a year moment with the amount of butterfly species on the wing going up form here on in in a spring where I see 100% of the butterfly species I have yet seen this year in one day so I loved seeing my 2021 quartet all today. 

A fantastic day for my macro lens was further added to as with it being early season so the butterflies more flighty they are emerging in another patch of quite warm weather and very sunny. So these both settled on blossom higher up than me and I was not immediately on top of them like you’d want with macro but I had to stretch my arm out with my camera and just about look through the viewfinder at a distance to take the picture. So I sort of thought ah they’ll be record shots but I was more pleased with them than that I would say. I took the tenth and final picture in this photoset of more top flowers seen lately and today speedwell and daisy together on the green out the front on the way back. 

Wildlife Sightings Summary for the whole of today: My first Comma butterfly of the year, one of my favourite butterflies the Red Admiral, one of my favourite birds the Great Crested Grebe, Peacock, Brimstone, lots of nice bees, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Greylag Goose, Canada Goose, Coot, Moorhen, Lesser Black-backed Gull, Black-headed Gull, Herring Gull, Kestrel, Woodpigeon, Collared Dove, Starling, Goldfinch, House Sparrow, Blue Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Chaffinch, Chiffchaff, Wren, Robin and I heard another of my favourite birds the Green Woodpecker, one of my favourite songsters the Song Thrush, Great Tit and possibly the Ring-necked Parakeets too. I don’t usually include flowers in the wildlife sightings summary flowers are something I’ve got into lately and I’ve just never really thought to do it. With how many I saw today and notable ones I shall include them for today though. My first ever snowflake, one of my favourite flowers the snake’s-head fritillaries, my first cowslip and bluebell of the year, daisy, dandelion, daffodil, less celandine, speedwell and violets. 

Well today was one of my days of the year and one of my best days ever for photos and wildlife especially in spring. I took so many pictures my macro lens in particular with a big shift today and enjoyed my time outside and at home truly so much. A perfect spring day which I got a lot out of. In particular it was a wonderful day for seeing things I have done in spring in recent weeks at Lakeside again valuable chances to do this, as well as seen so much for the first time this year so I really enjoyed today. It should be another packed one tomorrow too I think. Thanks for all your support for my photos and experiences today. It was two really athletic walks a lot of time on my feet on a day COVID restrictions lifted slightly with an emphasis on getting outdoors and active where we can safely and so much seen and done I feel so positively tired right now. I hope you are all safe and well. 

[arlothia]

Ooo! I like these questions! Thanks for the tag @burnt-kloverfield​!!

Nickname: Snicklefritz (comes from being the youngest in my family :P ) Zodiac: Aquarius Height: 5′2″ Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff Last thing I googled: Google (images): Hakama || Bing: cured fire wood Song stuck in my head: Hu Ge’s 'When the Wind Blows' from ‘Nirvana in Fire’ (AKA I’m not crying you’re crying and YES I learned how to sing this phonetically mwahahahahahaha!!!!) Number of Followers: 1,135 (and I have no idea how many of those are bots) Amount of Sleep: Last night: 6-ish hours || Most days: between 8 and 9 Lucky Numbers: 3 and 5 Dream Job: Researcher for production companies - LET ME MAKE YOUR MOVIES AND TV SHOWS BETTER I BEG OF YOU!!!!!! Also and author. I’d love to get paid to write :P Wearing: T-Shirt and a pair of baggy Under Armour workout pants that I use as my PJ pants. Favorite Author: Brandon Sanderson!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Favorite Instrument: Violin and piano Aesthetic: Nice, cozy, comfy things. Something that’s peaceful and just makes me sigh with contentment. I love those seasonal blogs with all the pretty nature pictures (and also the stunningly gorgeous nature vistas of mountains and hills and forests and the sea, along with those moody and misty forest and stuff...) and the holiday blogs with lots of Christmas and Halloween stuff. I also love the Country Victorian and Craftsman style houses - they’re just so nice and homey :) Favorite Song: I honestly really, REALLY can’t answer this because I just have SO many and it really depends on what mood I’m in. I could be here all day going off on which songs I love when and why, so let’s just say I like a LOT!!! Favorite Animal Noise: BARNYARD!!!!!!!!!!!!! Give me chickens clucking, chicks chirping, ducks quacking, geese squawking, pigs snorting, horses snorting/whinnying/nickering, sheep bleating, with crickets in the evening! OH! And you can’t forget Crows cawing! Love me some crows!!! Random: So @burnt-kloverfield​, you said you were looking for the piano sheet music to “Achilles Come Down”, right? Well, it’s note technically what you were looking for, but there’s a piano tutorial for the String Quartet version on musescore. I’m sure a little fenagling is needed to make it feasible to play, but I hope it helps!! BTW, that is an AWESOME song!! I just listened to it and it’s beautiful!!!

And for those of you who know me, you know this is where tag memes go to die! So if you see this, CONSIDER YOURSELF TAGGED!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! :P

[teapotart]

aah~~ rink toomah dink toomah diddle eye do rink toomah dink toomah doodle

For me, summer ended with apples, stories, ocs and singing. So I felt like drawing something from sowk: this scene takes place when the sowk main quartet visits a town where a certain apple festival is happening, and these two end up (totally accidentally) performing songs instead of the actual musicians-- and they are quite enjoying it, hehe. First: I have no idea what they are singing, but I suppose it’s something Decemberists-like, or something with energy like this. I like drawing for sowk or simply thinking about it while listening to Czech songs :”> Second: no idea what this instrument is, or could something as weird as this even sound (the sound effect is in Russian bc I decided so), but it’s a fantasy story, so don’t even bother with such things as realism :”)) Third: mistians, these tiny mystical creatures, are also singing - I’m not sure how their voices sound, but drawing a pic with Lancelot in it and without mistians is just WRONG.

bonus:

F. Teapot: drawing people holding geese/ducks in crowd scenes since 2018.

[shadowofmoths]

1, 8, 11?

1. if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

read ...richard siken, honestly, or wild geese by mary oliver, or, honestly, queen’s shadow by ek johnston.

watch the force awakens and the phantom menace. or like. clone wars obvi. 

listen to GHOST QUARTET, and theres. probs some podcast i should rec but idk for sure 

8. what musical artists have you most felt connected to over your lifetime?

hozier, carly rae, david malloy, of monsters and men is probs the most consistent one? and also the beastie boys lol. 

11. describe your ideal day

honestly jus like. wake up, make pancakes w my roommates, go to a museum, its a nice day out and then we just sit outside and like, eat fruits! picnic! have bubble tea! take polaroids! 

[kitchenlegrecords]

Mumbles open for Glassberg and the Disasters tomorrow 19.10 in IE!

No plans for Saturday, October 19 following the tragic cancellation of Glassberg & The Disasters' release show at Intxxxxxplrxx? Come to this event, presented by amSTARt and featuring many if not all of the same people in an extremely similar location at the exact same time! With: Glassberg & The Disasters Berlin's finest indiefolkantipop quartet made an album! It's called This Was Inevitable, it's coming out on Lousy Moon Records (The Burning Hell, Toby Goodshank), it's recorded and mixed by Won Thyme and mastered by Emperor X with killer illustrations by Agata Sasiuk, and it's full of sweet hooks and salty wordplay about death, taxes, gentrification, super-tall guys and other inevitabilities. Tonight, try (live) before you buy. http://www.rachelglassberg.com/music https://lousymoon.com/product/glassberg-the-disasters-this-was-inevitable/ Mumbles Part of the Kitchen Leg records crew, these four lovely creatures are coming out of hiding for a rare set of ride-or-die DIY that'll make you want to smile and shout and possibly eat cake. https://kitchenlegrecordsberlin.bandcamp.com/album/mumbles-geese-my-eyes Plus: DJ Supercheri Afterparty with Collage Collective Berlin: Einlassstopp!

[theuniversitychallengereview]

UC 48.35 - Durham vs Edinburgh

Scotland have never had an institution in the Grand Final of University Challenge since the Paxman Era began in 1995, with St Andrews being the last team from north of the border to make it to the showpiece, back in 1984. Their loss that year to the Open University marked the end of a mini Golden Age for Scottish Collegiate Quizzing, with victories for themselves and Dundee in ‘82 and ‘83 being preceded by Edinburgh’s only final appearance in 1981. Two winners and two runners up in four years, with nothing either side.

Its Edinburgh who have come closest to breaking that duck post-95, this being their fifth (and third consecutive) run to the semis. Last year they were blitzed by eventual winners St John’s, Cambridge and in 2017 they fell to Champions-elect Balliol, Oxford. Aberdeen and St Andrews have also made it to the last four (in 1995 and 2004), but none have thus far been able to take that extra step.

Hoping to block that path and take their own place in the Final for the first time since they won the trophy in 2000, Durham came into this match with a great deal of confidence, unbeaten so far and with a comfortable win over their Scottish opponents already under their belt. These are the two sides with the most Challenge appearances between them since the show returned to the BBC, and they’ve played each other a number of times in that period, but never with as much at stake as this.

Durham certainly came into this match as the clear favourites, and not only because they had dismantled their opponents earlier on in the tournament. While fellow semi-finalists Darwin and Teddy Hall have demonstrated an over-reliance on their captains (both in games versus Bristol, which Darwin narrowly lost and Teddy narrowly won), Durham have proved a more rounded team, with all four players getting stuck in on the buzzer. Edinburgh rank somewhere in between these two extremes, with captain Fitz-James their strongest buzzer, but backed up by decent rates from Booth and Campbell Hewson. 

Fitz-James likes to play a high-risk high-reward brand of buzzer quizzing, with a bunch of starters to his name, but also the highest number of negs in the tournament so far. This is a dangerous but necessary tactic at some points in the game - for instance when they were trailing Durham in their previous encounter - but it hasn’t always paid off for him. Knowing that they’ll need to beat Durham on the buzzer I didn’t expect him to play more conservatively this time round, but he’ll need to improve his interruption conversion lest this method have a negative effect.

Anyway, let’s not bother with the rules, here’s your first starter for ten.

Question one of the evening, and the the first neg. Fitz-James (of course), wearing an unbuttoned crisp white shirt and big blue blazer with racing stripes (the semi finals being the stage at which some of the contestants are wont to start dressing up) zooms in too early to send Edinburgh into the minuses before we’ve even properly settled down. His opposite number Toynbee calmly waits for the end of the question before cleaning up his mess, and Durham take two of the resulting bonuses on the Kalinga Prize. Normal service resumed.

Or not... The maverick nature of Fitz-James’ style turns positive on the next starter, and Booth follows it up with one of his own. Booth then manages to understand a particularly mangled set of bonuses on geometry for ten more points, mixing up the icosohedron and dodecahedron for the final five, which is fair enough. Edinburgh now lead.

The first picture round, a surprisingly simple question that was effectively ‘name the period between 1929 and 1939 in the United States’ (which is pretty gettable on its own), but with the further clue of a massive economic crash at the beginning of it, goes to Durham’s Yule, and they go five clear with two bonuses. Booth, complying with his captains instructions to buzz at all costs, jumps the gun to the tune of negative five with primitivism, but Toynbee doesn’t manage the steal this time. He gets the next one though, on military history, and the next, on the prefix psycho. 35 points in it now.

Campbell Hewson springs into action for a question about Scottish mathematicians, which makes sense, given that he is also a Scottish mathematician. Bonuses on swans follow. Paxman describes one species as having a ‘loud hissing sound when provoked’, and Fitz-James muses that this sounds like a goose. His teammate Booth rightly points out that geese aren’t swans, and they muddle around to the correct answer of Mute.

Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture plays for only a few seconds before Fitz-James buzzes in. The good thing about the music starter is that you can’t neg it, but on this occasion his fast fingers were on the pulse and two bonuses were enough to give them back the lead. This spooks Durham into a neg of their own, with Yule not looking very sure of himself as he says Walt Whitman. FJ doesn’t manage to punish him though, but Campbell Hewson, with an energetic thinking phase, romps in with Via Della Rosa to take the next question.

Murray, scourge of Edinburgh the last time the sides met, buzzes in with trademark composure for his first starter of the night, and Durham followed it up with a quick hat-trick on eponymous laws in electrostatics. After the second picture round, which also went to the Wearside Quartet, there were only fifteen points separating the two teams, and only a few minutes to go.

For once, Fitz-James holds off on the next starter, as does everyone else, with the question hanging there for a few seconds of dead time until FJ comes in with a guess of Moses, based on the final clue, relating to Charlton Heston. Sometimes you just need to guess. Ten points to Edinburgh, who crucially go more than a full set clear. 

Yule keeps the game alive with Mahler on the next starter, and Durham opt for a rapid triple pass on molecular biology bonuses - a wise move (sometimes you just need to pass. You’d need somewhere beyond thin air from which to pull guesses of thermococcus litoralis, pyrococcus furiosus and thermus aquaticus)  . But Fitz-James and Campbell Hewson each take their fourth starters of the night, leaving Durham shellshocked, and seventy points behind at the gong.

Final Score: Durham 110 - 180 Edinburgh

A fantastic performance from Edinburgh, who upset the odds to reach the final at the third time of asking. Durham couldn’t quite keep up the standards they’d set in the previous rounds, as Edinburgh’s quick-buzzing tactics well and truly paid off. Nevertheless, a great game from all involved, and we have a superb semi to look forward to next week as Freddy takes on Jason in University Challenge’s answer to Hollywood.