#gold digging ant

[ahthedoodle]

region variants of my changelings, plus one based on gold digger ants

[briefbestiary]

Gold-digging ants of the desert, who unearth gold dust from the shifting sands. Its likely the animal was a misunderstanding of language and hearsay, possibly referring to marmots.

[yesthatsatumbler]

Apparently it's a species of marmot.

Honestly I can see the resemblance.

Reading a book about slavery in the middle-ages, and as the author sorts through different source materials from different eras, I am starting to understand why so many completely fantastical accounts of "faraway lands" went without as much as a shrug. The world is such a weird place that you can either refuse to believe any of it or just go "yeah that might as well happen" and carry on with your day.

There was this 10th century arab traveller who wrote into an account that the fine trade furs come from a land where the night only lasts one hour in the summer and the sun doesn't rise at all in the winter, people use dogs to travel, and where children have white hair. I don't think I'd believe something like that either if I didn't live here.

[cecilioque]

The Submas Designs are a lot more clever than you thought.

First lets look at the Submas overall design.  We know that the original design was intended to make the Subway Bosses look like clowns and kind of creepy (that backfired); hence the comically large shoes and exaggerated expressions. Let’s start to break down each part of the design. 

To begin, The Submas extreme expressions are a possible reference to the symbol of theatre; the mask of Tragedy and the Mask of Comedy.  The mask of tragedy is commonly portrayed frowning ( not necessarily cry) on a black base mask while the mask of Comedy is portrayed smiling on a white base masks. Sometimes these masks are gold or split black and white color.  The masks together represent the two extremes of the human psyche. Definitely the contrast we see between Emmet's smile and Ingo’s frown.

Next up, the coats.  These are obviously designed to look like train tracks.  The vertical grey lines representing the rails, the red brown the tie (the wood connecting the rails), and the buttons are the spikes that secure the track.  You can see the pattern best on the back of the Submas coat.  Looking at it you could laugh and say “I guess that makes the Subway boss themselves the train”, and you know what? You’re right.

This brings us to the most interesting part of their design, the color and pose.  Yes, there is an explanation to the silly pose too.  It’s so silly that we can just brush this whole design off as being another funny Pokemon character design; but unfortunately it’s actually thought out.  

The Submas themselves are the New York Subway. Or at least they are the personified version of it.  Let’s look at the colors again.  Black and White.  Very fitting for a game literally called Pokemon Black and White.  That alone brings us to some interesting comparisons with the game themes and pokemon.

Kudari or (Emmet in the English version) wears all white. He values routine and rules and is ultimately pretty point blank.  We can easily make that conclusion that  Emmet represents Reshiram and truth. If we break down his name we see that in Japanese it means something along the lines of “down train” or moving away/going down hill.  The different translations usually mean the same, except the name “Emmet�� is a bit out of place.  A lot of people say the Submas names in English are most likely to be puns of “Ingoing and Emitting”.  But my crazy self did more digging and found that Emmet means “truth” specifically universal truth.  This name goes back to old German, Irish, and even Hebrew. All looping back to Reshiram and themes of the game. (On a funny side note, Emmet is also the Cornish word for ant; so Emmet having a Durant is really funny. ) 

Next up is Nobori or Ingo who wears a black coat and appears frowning. Despite that , his is very encouraging and excited about moving forward. This makes sense since the name Nobori in Japanese more or less means to move up/forward ( specifically up a mountain).  That’s why a lot of people believe that the poor man was eebie deebied for the pun because Warden Ingo works on Mt. Coronet. In English, Ingo is thought to be a shortened version of “Ingoing” which also aligns with not only the Japanese name but the character’s reoccurring theme of progress, moving forward, and ideals. In this sense Ingo very much represents Zekrom and ideals. 

Truth and ideals, Reshiram and Zekrom, Tragedy and comedy, white and Black.  All very good interpretations and symbolism for two funny train men. I would be satisfied with just knowing that, but no; the Submas are also a funny gijinka of the New York Subway.  This is the part the has me laughing at how simple it is and yet we just easily accepted that they were just a bit strange.

Take a look at this. This is a Zebra Board.  

Yep, it’s black and white. And do you know what? This MTA sign only appears in the New York subway.  What does it do?  These are used by conductors to indicate safety and that the train has lined up in the station. Every time the subway comes into the station, the conductor has to physically point at this board/bar to indicate that it is safe for the doors to open. The action is called "point and call" or "point and acknowledge".  This practice is used in a few other train/subway stations (such as Japan), but the black and white board is New York specific. The pose of the submas suddenly makes a lot of sense.

Other Important notes observations.

The Submas face represents the front of the train.  So their eyes are the lights (hence Ingos glowing eyes in PLA), their side burns are cow catchers ( see graphic), and the Medalion on the hat is round like a train number plate.  Another interesting thing is that the Submas use airline Captain Pilot hats like Japanese train conductors use.  The only part of their outfit that confuses me is the arm bands.  This is more of a police uniform element and not a train conductor thing.

so to conclude, the Submas are basically a reference to in game themes, Reshiram/Zekrom, Trains, and literally the New York subway

I am not an expert. These are just my observations. I could be completely wrong.  Take and add what you would like to.  If you have more to add about the design, feel free to reblog that info. I would also like to see your interpretation.

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

I have to ask about my top 5 favorite boys Dunsparce! I know all it's Pokédex entries talk about it burrowing underground BUT!!! What if like. You raise it from an egg or catch it so it's used to humans instead of just a wild one and give it a backyard to like. Use it like a bigger Pokémon version ant farm situation and try to keep it outside or not to drill in the house/make sure to make it feel safe so it doesn't on instinct? That's GOTTA be a at least a B-tier then, right??? (I may be coping a little but sue me, I think Dunsparce is a silly guy that is severely underated, at least before S/V came out.)

(Hey! It’s the pokémon in the blog’s pfp at last!) While I unfortunately can’t give dunsparce the glowing B-tier rating you were hoping for, but I also can’t say that a dedicated owner would be entirely unable to care for one. It won’t be easy (or cheap), but certainly not impossible. Let’s get into it, this is a long one.

To begin with, dunsparce are pretty big. At nearly five feet long, these surprisingly quick pokémon need a lot of space to move around. Thankfully, they aren’t too heavy, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble carrying them around with a big bear-hug. Now, as you pointed out in your post, dunsparce do require some specialized space to be happy and healthy, which will likely present some problems for a lot of potential owners.

Wild dunsparce make their homes underground in (I like the way you put it) giant, maze like ant-farm structures (Crystal, Ruby/Sapphire, Diamond/Pearl/Platinum). They have been known to share these burrows with other ground-dwelling pokémon like digletts (Ultra Sun), so if you are already the proud owner of a burrowing pokémon you may already have what you need for a dunsparce. Given their size, dunsparce need a lot of dirt to dig around in, which could be a problem when it comes to the size of your home and/or yard. Thankfully, while these pokémon are skilled digger with their drill-like tail, they aren’t exactly avid explorers: once a dunsparce has a nest they are happy with, they’ll spend most of their time inside it, remaining “virtually motionless” (Crystal). So, while you probably won’t have problems with your dunsparce running away from home, you will need to make sure they have adequate space. The larger your yard, the more likely the space will be adequate for a dunsparce. Because of their size, a simple sand/soil box won’t cut it (this is where the potentially expensive part of owning a dunsparce comes in).

Because they spend most of their time underground, it is important to have proper expectations about socializing with your dunsparce: these pokémon aren’t really the cuddly, indoors type. In fact, wild dusparce are known to be very skittish, especially around humans. According to the pokédex, dusnaprce tend to run away as soon as they’re aware that a human has spotted them, burrowing into the ground as fast as they can (Gold, Ultra Moon). In your request, though, you brought up an interesting question: would a dunsparce raised from birth be more comfortable with humans? As with most animals, I would have to guess that the answer would be yes (this isn’t really something I’ve explored on this blog before, so it’s an interesting avenue to go down!). Keep in mind, though, that these pokémon are pretty rare due to their fear of humans in the wild, so getting a dunsparce egg might be pretty expensive, and you’ll want to do your research to ensure that you’re buying from an ethical pokémon breeder.

Due to their aforementioned fear of humans, dunsparce are far more likely to choose flight over fight in most situations. This means that they aren’t exceptionally dangerous to humans. Their drill-like tail allows them to use powerful moves like Hyper Drill and Drill Run. While these moves could really do some damage to a person, they’re much more likely to cause damage to the environment around them when they try to flee. It would not be a good idea to bring a dunsparce inside unless it is some sort of indoor space where they can comfortably dig if they feel threatened. The only dangerous dunsparce is a dunsparce that feels cornered in a space where they can’t dig.

If you are able to provide a dunsparce with the large nesting space that they need, they are a pretty easy pokémon to care for. They’re laid-back but skittish, but get along well with other burrowing pokémon. While I can’t recommend them to all pet-owners, those with the right resources and dedication could find a great pet in this pokémon. Be careful though: if your dunsparce knows the move Hyper Drill, they are much more likely to evolve into the much larger, much more difficult-to-care-for dudunparce! I’d recommend the use of an everstone, just in case.

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 54

Scalepaw is overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds of his first Gathering and panics.

[Image ID: Scalepaw runs away with + CONDITION: SENSORY OVERLOAD underneath him. Weedfoot, who has - CONDITION: GRIEVING under her, yowls “Scalepaw?” Tempestshade watches behind her. Under them, it says LEVEL UP! FEMALE -> NONBINARY (THEY/THEM).]

Scalepaw walked quietly behind his mother and father, paws already aching from the long walk. Sure, if anyone spoke to him, he’d say he was excited for his first Gathering, and it wasn’t a lie. He wanted to see what they were like! But RippleClan camp could be a loud and overwhelming place at times, so to imagine the sounds of the Gathering…

“I’ve got a lot of friends to introduce you to,” Lavendertwist said, walking alongside Scalepaw. “Gladestep is a WheatClan warrior, you can show off some of your battle moves with him. Snailheart’s been teasing me ever since I came home with this collar, but you’ll like him too.” Lavendertwist rubbed his collar against his shoulder. It was made of black leather and lined with gold dots. Scalepaw flinched when the collar got too close to him. How could his brother stand having that thing around his neck?

“Downstar will be introducing you to the other Clans tonight,” Waspdawn said, jogging past Puddlewhisper and Rustshade to join his little brother. “When she mentions your name, just sit up and let everyone cheer.” Oh stars. More cheering? He’d barely been able to stand it when he became an apprentice! Now all the Clans would be yowling his name?

“Hey, don’t look like that,” Lavendertwist chuckled, gently nudging Scalepaw. “You’ll make good friends here.” Considering Scalepaw already wanted to scream, he didn’t think that was true.

He could hear the crowds already. Their words dug into Scalepaw’s head. He couldn’t help but dig his claws in with each step, his body trying to force him back. His older siblings surrounded him like a guard patrol. They all seemed so strong and noble. So did Weedfoot and James, casually chatting as they approached the brown stone wall leading to the Leader’s Stone.

“Hurry, Wildclaw!” Rattlepelt charged past Scalepaw, free of her fox pelt, carrying a loaded basket. She bumped into Scalepaw, knocking him to the side. Her furless skin rubbed against Scalepaw like claws down his back. He barely gathered his thoughts before Wildclaw pushed past him from the other side, squeezing between him and Lavendertwist.

“Sorry!” Wildclaw called as she and Rattlepelt hurried behind Downstar on the path up the wall.

“You’re going to fall doing that!” Waspdawn yowled.

No. No no no. Scalepaw was on fire. His fur was too thick but too thin at the same time, an insult to the code of the world. His ears were bleeding, he was sure of it. He couldn’t do this. He could not go up there! His feet scrambled across the cold, hard ground. He turned tail and bolted into the forest beyond the path.

“Scalepaw?” Weedfoot called, but her son couldn’t hear her. He could barely hear anything.

Why did everything have to hurt? Why did other cats have to look at him like that? Why couldn’t he be a normal apprentice? Why, why, why? This was supposed to be fun! He was supposed to make friends! How could he ever be a warrior? How could he be the deputy’s son, but not show his face at Gatherings? He could barely talk! He was awful, awful, awful!

Scalepaw wasn’t sure where he was. He was somewhere in SlugClan territory, he knew that at least. But he couldn’t hear the Gathering anymore. There weren’t heavy pelts pressing against him. He could actually think. Well, in a sense. It felt like his body was full of ants, but a deep, unsettling fatigue dragged at his long fur. He paced around a tree, crunching the remnants of fallen leaves. He rubbed his paw on the leaves. The leaves felt good. There weren’t a hundred too-thin, too-thick hairs poking at his skin.

Green eyes shone in the moonlight. Scalepaw froze. The figure’s breathing stung his ears. They took a step forward. It was Tempestshade! What was she—no, they, they revealed the change earlier that moon—what were they doing there?

“Hi,” Tempestshade chirped awkwardly. “I thought I would make sure you didn’t get lost. I, uh, can understand why a Gathering would be so scary.” Scalepaw just stared at them. They lived up to their suffix, Scalepaw hadn’t heard them. Then again, he wasn’t hearing much. Their words still hurt to hear. Scalepaw whined and pulled his paws over his ears. He was such a kit. 

“Why are you acting like that?” Tempestshade asked. Scalepaw had to stop. He had to approach this situation like a warrior. But how could he when everything hurt? “Alright, it seems you won’t answer me. That’s alright, I suppose. I’ve been like that sometimes. I was like that after my trial. And, uh, when I realized Ripplefern was dead.” 

They had? Other people had felt like Scalepaw felt? From the way Rustshade talked at the trial, he made it seem like Tempestshade had no remorse, that they were the epitome of selfishness, possessing the self-centered morals of a kit. Considering Scalepaw felt like a kit, maybe that was alright.

“I know there’s dung-all I can probably do to make this stop before its time, so…” Tempestshade muttered. They scooted closer to Scalepaw. “I can at least keep you company. Is that alright? Oh, you don’t really talk a lot, you can’t say yes… just whine if you don’t want me here, how about that?” Scalepaw stayed quiet. His pelt still burned and his ears still screamed, ringing with the remnants of Tempestshade’s words.

But he wasn’t alone.

(Scalepaw: 7, male, warrior apprentice, lonesome, avid play-fighter)

(Lavendertwist: 20, male, warrior, playful, good singer, good storyteller)

(Waspdawn: 20, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Rattlepelt: 37, female, artisan, fierce, leather artist)

(Wildclaw: 48, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

(Weedfoot: 103, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Tempestshade: 15, nonbinary (they/them), caretaker, childish, incredible cook)

Fennelspot develops yellowcough just as Troutpool realizes some of the herb stores went bad.

[Image ID: Fennelspot sits to the side with + CONDITION: YELLOWCOUGH written under him. Darkkick comforts Troutpool by saying, “Breathe. Herbs are just the base. You still have ointments and concoctions.”]

(Darkkick: 114, male, warrior, lonesome, talented swimmer, understands nature)

(Troutpool: 15, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Fennelspot: 111, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

Wildclaw fought a big dog and got hurt.

[Image ID: Wildclaw stands with a new update underneath her; + CONDITION: BITE WOUND.]

(Wildclaw: 46, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

[wowhead]

I trained giant ants the size of dogs to dig up gold for me

[myth-lord]

Lol, I'm experimenting with AI art, I know how Tumblr hates it because artists lose their jobs and blabla, but nobody ever replaces the real artist, the problem for me with real artists is that they never draw things other than the most overused Tyrannosaurus, Mermaid and Griffins... I want other creatures, so AI is good for that at least, while the creatures have 20.000 extra fingers, arms, legs and missing horns, tusks and can't create Nuckelavee or Ahuizotl's hand-tail thing EVER, I tried 10.000 times with the free AI creator I have avaiable, but they simply cannot create it. Anyway, these are some fun hilaric creatures I got from AI, from up to down the version of AI Ugjuknarpak, Kelpie, Babi Ngepet, Jubokko, Nuckelavee, Colorobetch, Muirdris, Fad Felen, Aproxis, Scitalis, Madremonte, Gold-Digging Ant, A-mi-kuk, Ahi At-Trab lol, all so wrong, but it was fun at least.

[universallydestinytaco]

SF Episode Ideas

“A Glep’s Eye View”

A whole episode starring Glep, who while dumpster diving finds what appears to be a rare golden coin coveted by a gang of raccoons. After a wild chase trying to get the coin back, gets into a fire ant nest where they’re about to attack until their Queen gives him a pardon, asking how such a handsome critter ended up in their colony. Turns out the ants and the raccoons always have had this beef, fighting over picnic food, so they decide to aid Glep in retrieving the coin. After an elaborately animated fight between Glep + the fire ants and the raccoons, Glep retrieves his treasure only to find out it’s one of those chocolate coins in the shiny wrappers instead of actual gold. Not that he minds anyway.

“Amy Pimling’s Number One Trending Bad Girl Reputation Era Billboard Single”

Pim’s bratty sister Amy makes a music video in hopes of spreading her wings as a singer, and it trends online for all the wrong reasons with everyone lambasting it as “Too safe”, “cliche” and “tacky”, and things get worse when Pim coincidentally uploads an old video of himself at a high school talent show which reveals he was the original writer and singer of the song, resulting in his version getting way more praise and Amy to be labeled a shameless plagiarist so she makes a PR move by doing the unthinkable: calling Smiling Friends and having them help save her from the backlash, unaware that her little brother works there... so they arrive Amy royally chews Pim out and is very impatient and rude with him while they’re cooking up suggestions to help her. Once they finally have had enough of her BS and have her sign some papers, Amy then realizes how mean she has been to Pim and that the whole music fiasco she is dealing with could be a sign that, indeed, karma’s a bitch. If there’s one thing the Smiling Friends themselves have all learned that day, they just can’t satisfy everyone…

“Charlie Hits the Sauce”

A limited edition Mr. Frog-themed menu item made in limited numbers gets released exclusively at Salty’s, causing inevitable chaos that the President himself would be proud of. Charlie desperately tries to get his hands on the sauce without having to give up a fortune so he decides to go on an insane quest to gather all the ingredients necessary to transmutate them together. The next day Charlie shows up to work the next day with his arm and leg replaced with bionic prosthetics and a bowl of dipping sauce with nuggets to taste. Everyone digs in just as a news report comes on reporting that those little green packets caused food poisoning amongst the few who where able to try it.

[ahthedoodle]

more myth bugs for my au

[iamgoodtobeart]

ALLRIGHT SO little change of programs, but with great news! So, here's one of the illustrations i'm gonna make for the Spooky Season. I think i will remake it but for now it's good, i take this as a base for the Gold digging Ants. Here's the WIP and the illustration.

BUT TOMORROW/MONDAY i will upload the Portal 2 ep. 3 Gameplay! AAAAAAND in the next period (next week or the one after this) i wanna try to go Live on Youtube! And in that live i will continue making some design about other monsters (maybe i'll sketch them in live and after that i will upload a video with all of the final illustration). Just cause i wanna make also live (one day on Twich also) and that was a good idea for me, starting Live with something Horror :3.

Tomorrow i will publish also the schedule of the week, but i can already anticipate that, i think i will go with Portal and Viewfinder. SO stay tuned cause i wanna start also making some animatics (let's start with Epic the Musical eheheeh >:3) and speacking about musical, here's a playlist about making some character design about Epic the Musical if you haven't watch it already

[homunculus-argument]

Imagine living in a mining town on the border of some uninhabited land. One day, you're just about to leave for work, when you notice that there's some guy sitting on the hood of your car. And also that your car appears to have been turned into solid gold. The guy - who was clearly sitting there waiting for you - turns to address you. He states the exact boundaries of a specific area of the land next to the mining site, and tells you to stop fucking mining there.

You tell him that you're not the boss of the company, it's not up to you where the mining is going to go. He says he's aware of it, but he wants you to make it happen. He's willing to exchange gifts for it, the car for one, and also your unborn little niece will be born in perfect health, and never suffer illness for a single day for her entire life until her requested time of death, at the age of 119. You weren't aware that your sister is having a girl - and neither probably do they - but somehow you don't doubt that this creature is speaking the truth.

Yes, creature. Now that you got a proper look, this guy really isn't all that human. The amount of teeth and fingers he has seems to shift and alter, occasionally when he twirls his hands in gestures, they momentarily tilt into angles that human joints shouldn't shift into. And you do see a lot of his teeth and movements of his hands as he keeps talking, gesturing wildly as he does, clearly irate.

He doesn't have the time to start digging into human social structures, or to bother figuring out who are the ones in charge of where the digging goes. He wants you to find them and talk to them. He can't really tell people apart, but what he can do is offer splendid and fabulous gifts in return for the favour. And if that won't work, he can kill people so easily it's not even funny.

All he's asking for is that you stop digging at that specific area. He doesn't want humans there. He can offer gifts to people, individual humans, and tell them to make it happen, one way or another. Or else he'll start killing people. He doesn't want to, but he can, and if his requests aren't met, he will decimate this entire fucking town.

You promise to do your best, and notice a few more golden cars on your way as you walk to work. There's several more people on the way that you pass on foot, some of whom are people you can clearly recall seeing in a wheelchair, or no longer using crutches. You don't need to look them in the eye to know they met the creature, too. You've all just met humanity's version of the guy who would rather use sugar cubes to bribe ants into not spreading their anthill into his living room, than call an exterminator.

[nanshe-of-nina]

Hi. I saw your post on Tomyris and I was wondering how much of her story is true. I think I read once on wikipedia that some historians believe it's more of a legend than a true story. Specially the part about Cyrus the great, stating that he actually died of old age rather than being killed and some even stated concerns about Herodotus's bias towards the Persians. If you have any other sources on this I'd be glad to gloss over them. Thanks!

Unfortunately, we really don't know one way or the other. Herodotus is the only source on Tomyris and he was often unreliable. Aside from his biases, he was also rather credulous and had a tendency to report some of the most WTF stories he heard without a shred of skepticism*. IIRC, Thucycides was one of the first writers to point out that Herodotus was often full of shit— and he was a near contemporary.

We also don't know for certain how Cyrus died; Herodotus and Xenophon disagree and the only contemporary Persian sources on the Achaemenids are stone inscriptions left on their monuments. Thus, most of what's known about the Achaemenids comes from Greek or Hebrew sources, which are often of highly questionable reliability.

However, the idea of a warrior queen amongst the Eastern Iranian steppe tribes is not inherently implausible. The Eurasian steppe tribes in general, such as the Scythians, Saka, Khitan, and Mongols, were often relatively more egalitarian in regard to gender roles than the settled peoples who lived around them.

* A good example of a WTF story in Herodotus is the one about the one about reports of giant gold-digging ants in India.

One possibility about the origin of this story is that the travelers were actually talking about marmots, who are in fact used to harvest gold dust and Herodotus accidentally mistranslated the word for marmot.

[attendsquoi]

Thea's Quest ~ Ch. 3

Chapter 3: Breakdown

Summary: Thea runs into the woods and confronts some past and current fears. She’s reminded that healing takes a village.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, panic attacks, hallucinations (there’s a happy ending I promise!)

Word count: 3.5k

Five years at camp made Thea pretty familiar with the woods. The forest was undoubtedly dangerous, but if you went in prepared and level headed then you’d make it out fine. The closer you were to the border with camp, the less likely you were to encounter monsters. Under normal circumstances, Thea would stick close to the treeline. But she needed to fight something, so she followed Zephyros Creek deeper into the woods.

It wasn’t too long before Thea felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She was being watched. Good.

While she was looking for a fight, Thea still wanted to be careful. She walked through the stream to get to the other bank, not caring about her socks and boots getting wet. 

In the near distance, she heard rustling. Thea adjusted her grip on her dagger. She was ready.

The noise grew louder, and almost seemed like it was coming from above. Thea’s eyes darted around the area when she finally saw movement. Off to her left, a giant ant was clambering toward her. And then there was a swarm.

“Styx.” Thea swore, realizing her mistake.

It was one thing to go look for a monster or two, but in the darkness she had stumbled upon the Myrmeke Lair. 

The massive ant hill was home to the Myrmekes, giant ants the size of German Shepherds. While not the most violent, they are powerful in numbers and determined hoarders of all things shiny. 

Thea’s dagger glinted in the moonlight. The Myrmekes barreled down the hill. Thea turned and ran.

The first Myrmeke caught up to her quickly. The girl turned to face it, barely managing to avoid a spray of poison. 

Thea crouched into a defensive stance and started swinging. She quickly cut one of the mandibles before it could call even more ants over. Then the Myrmeke pushed toward her, shoving her into a nearby tree. 

Its antennae tickled her neck, and the Myrmeke pushed harder.

“This is so gross.” Thea couldn’t help whimpering aloud. 

The Myrmeke’s unscathed mandible scratched her wrist. She dropped her dagger.

“No!” She yelped.

Immediately, the Myrmeke pulled away from Thea, snatching up the weapon and then rushing deeper into the forest.

“Huh?” Thea wondered aloud.

Without any precious metal on her person, the Myrmekes didn’t seem to pay Thea much attention. They were swarming toward something else.

Without a weapon, Thea knew it was time to find a way out of the woods, but her curiosity got the better of her. Hiding behind rocks and shrubs (you can never be too careful), Thea followed the trail of Myrmekes and eventually saw something shine between the trees. It was gold, like her dagger, but it wasn’t any kind of weapon. It was huge, and vaguely mechanical. The Myrmekes converged upon the metallic object. Thea never got a clear view, but she swore it looked like a massive wing. 

Thea turned to find her way back when the ants finally unlodged the piece of metal; a grating scraping sound rang out around them. Thea froze.

The harsh noise brought her back to the sharpening of the butcher’s knife. She felt the ropes digging into her skin, holding her above the flame. She could smell the charred flesh, burnt hair, and the putrid, warm, suffocating scent of death. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Thea saw movement in the shadows. She spun around; she swore she saw something glint in the dark. 

Clash! Clang!

The Myrmekes started rolling the metal back to the ant hill. 

Thea jumped, startled, and then she started running.

She had to get away from the ants, from the wing, from that sound, from the woods. As she ran, Thea felt the wind stinging her face. She realized she was crying. 

The realization only made the feeling worse. Against her will, Thea wished Luke was there. All the times he hugged her after an injury or comforted her after a harsh day of training flooded her mind. Only now was she beginning to feel the pain of what she had lost.

Thea yelped, then hit the ground. 

~~~

She had tripped over the root of a tree. Pulling her ankle to her body, she stopped to examine it. No break, and it probably wasn’t sprained. The only thing she really had to worry about were the new scrapes on her palms. 

Pulling herself up, Thea glanced at the tree that she had fallen over. She swore it was frowning at her disapprovingly – or perhaps that was pity – and she wished that Grover were in here with her. He always knew which trees were dryads, while Thea only guessed right half the time.

“Sorry.” She apologized with a pained smile. Better safe than sorry.

Looking around, Thea noticed that she was no longer on the path. She moved to retrace her steps, but when she walked forward she realized she no longer had any sense of direction. She couldn’t see her footprints, couldn’t hear the stream, and the dense tree cover blocked any view of the stars and moon. Thea became uncomfortably aware that she did not have any weapon. 

It was at that moment that she heard it. The faint crushing of bark and leaves, the deep echoey rumble of the earth.

Immediately, her breath grew ragged. She knew that sound. Thea felt hot with fear, standing as still as she could despite the way her hands shook and her breath came out in anxious pants through her nose. 

It was no use. It had already heard her, seen her. The snapping of twigs grew closer, and through the foliage, high in the trees, Thea saw the blinking of one big, evil, yellow eye.

~~~

Thea ran. She had no clue what direction she was going: if she was heading out of the woods or deeper in. She paid no mind to the brambles scratching her arms and legs or her cold feet - still wet from walking through the stream - or the blistering of her ankles. She just ran.

Behind her, she could hear the rustle of trees being pushed out of the way, and feel the stomping of the cyclops’ massive feet from the vibrations across the forest floor. Gradually, though, the sensations started mixing with her memories – the creaking of old floorboards, the crackle and pop of a flame, the stomping echoing across cement rooms.

She kept running. Somewhere, deep in her head, a rational voice was telling her to calm down, to find a place to hide, to remember to breathe. She couldn’t hear it over the roar of her heartbeat flooding her skull.

She remembered feeling so afraid. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears. Her whole body pulsed with her erratic breathing. She was so scared then. She was so scared now. 

Last time, they had managed to escape. All of them. Thea, Annabeth, Thalia, Luke. But Thea played no part in that. It was all Annabeth. If not for her, Thea would have died – and so would have Thalia and Luke. Not that it mattered. Thea couldn’t save Thalia in Virginia, and then she couldn’t save her at Camp. Gods know she failed to save Luke, and now she was going to fail to save herself.

She’s not good for anything – for anyone. She’s stupid enough to go into the forest, at night, barely armed. Now she can’t even fight. The only thing she’s ever been good at is the same thing that saved her every time she couldn’t save one of her friends: running away.

She ran away from the Hill; she lost Thalia. She ran away from Camp; she lost Luke. The only one left to lose was herself. 

Thea could feel a familiar dread creeping up on her, clouding the space behind her eyelids like the most menacing experience of deja vu. 

Just then, she spotted her saving grace: a small hole in a rock wall. It was barely large enough for a small family of woodland creatures, but Thea didn’t care. She squeezed her body down, scraping her arms and legs against the rough, cold stone. Already, in the corner of her vision, she swore she could see a silhouette. She recognized it immediately; she would know Luke anywhere. She forced herself deeper into the hole, leaning her head back against the rock and clenching her eyes shut. It was too late.

~~~

When Thea had gone into the Big House to bandage her wound, she failed to see Chiron, observing her from the window. The centaur watched her carefully, realizing she was not in a proper state of mind, but before he could confront her she turned and ran toward the woods. As soon as he realized what she was doing, Chiron trotted after her. But even with four legs, he was too slow. By the time he made it to the treeline, she was already gone.

Back in Washington D.C., Diana Prince got a phone call.

“Hello, this is Miss Prince.” She answered groggily.

“Diana, it’s Thea. She needs help.” Chiron’s voice rang through the other line.

There was a moment of silence as Diana sat up suddenly, immediately concerned.

“What has happened? Where is she?” She asked worriedly.

The centaur sighed wearily on the other end. 

“She ran into the woods. Even in daylight we’d be hard pressed to find her. She seemed… motivated. But also scared. I– I’m worried for her. The woods are not a safe place to be alone in, especially at night.” He informed her.

Diana frowned.

“I’ll get on it.” She replied, hanging up the phone.

~~~

A light flashed on the batcomputer, indicating an incoming call.

“Hello? Wonder Woman?” A young voice asked.

Diana paused, confused, stopping her preparations.

“Robin?” She asked, after a moment.

“Yes ma’am.” The voice replied.

Diana huffed.

“Robin, it’s - what - three am?” She said, confused.

“Uh huh.” Robin hummed in affirmation, unbothered.

“Why are you awake?” Diana pressed. “Actually - no, nevermind. I need to speak to Batman.” She insisted.

“Um, I’m sorry, he can’t come to the phone right now.” Robin said.

“Robin.” Diana warned.

The boy heard the threat in her tone.

“Just one second, patching you through now.” He replied hurriedly, not wanting to be on the Amazon’s bad side.

Diana frowned as a quiet elevator jingle played through the phone. 

“Stupid bats.” She muttered under her breath, raking her hand through her hair worriedly.

A moment later, the phone clicked.

“What do you want.” A gruff voice demanded.

Diana breathed a sigh of relief.

“Bruce.” She began, not bothering with codenames. This was serious. “It’s Thea, she’s in trouble and– and I don’t know where she is. I need to find her.” Diana said, the worry seeping into her tone.

Batman huffed at the lack of professionalism, but was uneasy at the anxiety in Diana’s voice. It wasn’t like her.

“How can I help?” He asked, grunting as he kicked a goon. He was working, after all.

Diana sighed. 

“I– I don’t know. I need to find her. Do you have a tracker on her?” Diana asked.

On the other end of the line, she could only hear faint grunting.

“Why would I have a tracker on her?” Batman asked, defensiveness slipping into his normally steady tone.

“Do you?” Diana pressed, not in the mood for a conversation around boundaries and personal privacy. Not when Thea was missing.

There’s a beat of silence.

“... yes.” Batman replied.

“Send me her location?” Diana asked, tone almost begging.

“Of course, right away.” Batman agreed, then hung up the phone.

Diana sighed, stressed out. A moment later, her phone pinged with Thea’s last location.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m on my way.” Diana murmured to herself, rushing out of the apartment.

~~~

As she flew to the zeta tube, Diana called Chiron.

“Diana.” The centaur answered quickly.

“I’m on my way. I have her location.” Diana said breathlessly. 

Chiron sighed in relief, deciding not to question how she knows where Thea is.

“Good luck. And be careful.” Chiron reminded her.

“I will.” Diana promised, hanging up the phone as she plugged in the coordinates for the Manhattan zeta tube.

Diana flew through the city with a one track mind: to reach Thea.

Reaching the hill, Diana flew quickly over it and through the border, making a beeline for the woods. It was still too early for most campers to be awake, but Diana was concerned with the amount of time it had taken her to get there. If something had happened to Thea… she didn’t know what she would do.

Once she got into the woods, she couldn’t fly because of the trees - but she ran quickly, heading toward the tracker. She jumped across the stream and moved deeper into the forest. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shaky trench, as if something had been dragged across the ground, but she paid it no mind.

When she got within a few yards of the tracker, she was on her own. She started looking around, searching frantically for her protege. Diana scanned the trees and – though everything in her refused to believe it – she inspected the ground, looking for any sign of Thea’s lifeless body. 

Suddenly, from a little ways away, Diana heard a desperate whimper. Her eyes shot over to a rock wall a few feet away.

~~~

Thea was cold. 

She couldn’t feel her fingers or toes, she couldn’t tell if her eyes were shut or open. She couldn’t move. Her body felt impossibly stiff, like she had been turned to ice, or to bark. For a moment, Thea wondered if she had been turned into a tree like Thalia. Had her mother – whoever she was – in one fell swoop, a first and final act of mercy, transformed her to stop her suffering? It was hardly unheard of. 

For only a second, the thought brought her peace.

But then Thea heard the snapping of branches and she knew it wasn’t real. And of course it wasn’t; Thea’s mother had waited 17 years to show she cared – why would she start now?

Unbidden, Thea’s thoughts shot to the words Luke said to her last night. He hadn’t really been there, but Thea had been bombarded with thoughts of him the whole night. Along with their other talents, some cyclops can cause hallucinations - of which Thea had undoubtedly been the victim.

Still, real or not, she heard the words again.

Your mom doesn’t care about you. Whoever she is, she doesn’t even know you even exist. Or maybe she does – she just doesn’t care about you enough to claim you.

You failed your mom and you failed me. 

Just like you failed Thalia.

Failed. 

Thea whimpered.

The words spiraled in her head, the voice morphing – sometimes Luke, then her dad, then Thalia, then Diana.

You failed.

She heard her mentor’s voice, angry and sad, the epitome of disappointment. Thea thought that it couldn’t get worse than the memories of Thalia and Luke, but somehow this cut through the numbness only to hurt sharper, deeper.

She thought that if she could cry, or if she had any awareness of her body, that she would be crying.

Somewhere in the back of her brain, there was a rustling noise and muffled words, but Thea wasn’t present enough to pay it any attention, much less understand what was being said.

Diana’s voice emerged again, gradually morphing into Artemis then Robin then Batman then Kaldur, as they all tell her how they don’t trust her, they can’t, not after she’s failed so many times. Not after she’s been so stupid.

There was a miniscule part of Thea’s brain that was sure she was crying now.

A new word cut through Thea’s mind.

Cold.

Yes. Thea thought. I’m so cold.

But different from the other memories and hallucinations, this voice wasn’t taunting. If anything it was… worried?

A muffled flash washed over Thea. Her muscles burned, as if her body had been put through the most intense workout. She felt tired. She heard the voice again: Diana. 

Thea gasped as her eyes shot open for a split second. She saw Diana, who had woken up in the middle of the night, who had flown to save her, who had pulled her weeping body out of a hole in the rock.

Thea saw Diana, the edges of her vision still white and blurry. Then she passed out.

~~~

When Thea came to, she was somewhere warm and soft. Her eyes felt heavy, and she waited as the feeling gradually came back to her fingers and toes. She listened, and she could hear Diana’s voice muttering not too far away.

She couldn’t make out too many words, but it sounded like she was assuring whoever was on the other end of the phone that Thea was okay. She caught something that sounded like freezing and hallucinating. 

Gradually, Thea forced her eyes open, blinking hard. She hissed as she felt blinded by the soft lamp light. Off to her side, she heard Diana gasp lightly then hang up the phone.

Before she could really realize what was happening, Diana was at her side, brushing her hair out of her face. Unwittingly, Thea leaned into her touch.

“Sweet girl.” Diana murmured.

Thea flushed slightly at the sympathy, glancing down at herself. Her arms and legs were covered in cuts and scrapes, but they’d all been cleaned and the deeper ones had been bandaged. Suddenly, she felt her stomach churn uncomfortably.

“Diana.” Thea whimpered a warning, and Diana quickly reached for the trash can, already prepped with a trash bag.

Thea threw up, stomach turning as she recalled the previous day’s events, feeling the toll on her body. Diana rubbed her back soothingly. After a couple minutes of mostly dry heaving, Thea felt her breath coming back to her more steadily.

“Okay. Okay, I got it. I’m done.” She muttered, leaning back against the couch.

Diana looked down at her with a concerned frown.

“What… what happened?” Thea asked her.

Diana sighed, worried.

“You’ll have to fill in some gaps for me.” Diana said. “But I’ll tell you what I know.”

~~~

Diana filled her in about the call from Chiron and flying to find her in the woods. She told her about where she was hiding, and how she had pulled her freezing body out of the rock. Apparently she had been hallucinating and mumbling in fear through most of the day. It was now about three in the afternoon the next day.

Thea sighed as she realized what had happened. 

“I– I ran into a cyclops. Had a panic attack as I ran away. Between the fear and their ability to mimic voices, I must have started hallucinating.” She said.

Diana’s eyes widened in concern. 

“Thea… why were you in the woods?” She asked, raking her fingers gently through the girl’s hair.

Thea felt her eyes watering slightly at the affection.

“I– I had a nightmare.” She murmured. “About Luke.” 

Diana nodded as she realized that there was a lot to Thea’s story that she didn't know.

The older woman sighed, shifting on the couch. Thea’s eyes followed her movement, and she sat up slightly against the armrest, pulling her feet closer to her body to make more room for Diana. Diana watched her actions fondly, resting a hand on one of her knees soothingly, adjusting to sit more comfortably next to the girl.

“Thea, I am not going to make you explain everything to me. I know there’s a lot. But with that, I ask that you consider therapy.” Diana said quietly, not wanting to startle her.

Thea’s brows furrowed. 

“Therapy? Diana, I– I know I need help.” Thea began. “But who am I supposed to go to for therapy? There aren’t demigod psychologists. I’d get sent to an institution.” She said.

Diana huffed with mild amusement. “Dinah, Black Canary, is a counselor, a therapist.” She explained.

“I thought she ran a flower shop.” Thea muttered.

Diana laughed gently.

“She owns a flower shop, yes. But her day job is as a therapist. I– I hope you don’t mind. I already asked if she’d be willing to sit down with you, about more than just the team. She’s already agreed. She’s ready whenever you are.” 

Thea nodded, taking in the information. It’s a lot to process, but she already trusted Black Canary, and she knew she couldn’t keep running on fumes.

“I– okay. Yes. I’ll do it.” Thea murmured, looking back up to Diana.

Diana sighed in relief, hand finding its way forward to cup her face gently. 

“Thank you, Thea.”

Thea shook her head, a frown returning to her face.

“No. Gods, no. Why would you thank me? I’m– I’m such a mess. I mean, I was gone for a day and you had to come save me.” Thea cut off her frustrated rambling quickly, realizing something.

She looked up, searching Diana’s face.

“You saved me.” She whispered. “Thank you.” She said, eyes watering.

Diana suddenly felt herself holding back tears. 

“Of course, Thea.” She murmured, leaning forward to wipe a tear off her cheek. “I’ll always save you.” She promised.

Thea lunged forward weakly, pulling her mentor into a bony hug. Diana chuckled through a few tears, holding Thea tightly. 

“I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, always.” 

[wilted3sunflowers]

subjects you to warden essence b tier talk

okay so like, i really love the b tiers of wardens essence the design for all the characters is strongly tied together, i enjoy our b tier cast is all in there as prisoners and matching i have a lot of say actually about each and the insects/arachnid theyre subjected to i love majority of all the cast and need to gush about it i have a lot of say actually about each and the insects/arachnid theyre subjected to i love majority of all the cast and need to gush about it

even altrusitic ganji is there, as worker bee

mirroring his true backstory, the description especially "They praise my patience while pulling out my stinger." bees only attack once feeling threatened, to defend the hive and queen that worker bees quote " They act as nurse bees taking care of the young bees and the queen, as housekeepers who work to clean and expand the hive and as foragers and scouts who bring back food and seek out new hive locations. As a worker ages, it takes on different roles inside and outside of the hive." taking care of the young, who seek out new locations, it just makes me think of his trailer particularly for the 'pulling out my stinger' its not just that bees die once their stingers are used…Bees can actually sting insects multiple times "they also have stingers, but they can only sting mammals once and then they die. They can, however, sting other insects over and over again to protect the hive." that mammals have thick skin that they cant pull their stinger out of. causing them to die when trying to pull it out that theyre pulling out the stinger, these 'gentleman' [the wolves theyre portrayed as in his trailer his stinger to be caught] he only struck out of necessity- out of hostility from the other even when he waited to strike, his patience can only last so long

Vera [my love and personal favorite girl] as scorpion all about reflection of the self- of who/what she isnt "When I look at myself in the mirror, I wonder if I should show more kindness to others." in her description

a woman cast out continually by others around treated as lesser of the two sisters and odd, to have her interests dashed by her own parents over and over, that no one 'cared' Chloe Nair disappeared, that she could play the part of vera "The vast majority of scorpions are nonsocial, solitary animals that interact only at birth, during courtship, or for cannibalism." cannibalism, to not just eating another but if we want we can even infer the whole 'there can only be one scorpion. eating the twin. taking that place of territory.

jack as a centipede- which are natural hunters and aggressive by nature purposeful in chasing prey Description: "Mind your temperance in hunting; only then can you enjoy everlasting fun." the painted on red grin of his face. he's remorseless. this is all ripper and how he thrives as the predator, that for him this is his entertainment. its almost funny hes a prisoner here to be 'reformed' when he shows no sign of care for his prey or what he did. The only one with a painted smile - red that could have been made to symbolize how he eats his prey and thats blood

Norton as Ant Description: "What has group living taught me? To enjoy competition and embrace pressure? Or one should possess charity to avoid being perceived as evil."

the 2nd blatant piece of information before fools gold drop about how being around those other miners weren't that nice, competition and pressure? how he would help his family before fully leaving when he seemed to be a caring boy

like a miner ants both dig under the ground in careful crafted tunnels and hard workers but are also looked on upon with no empathy by many from kids to adults and regarded with disgust, trying to take the scraps to live and survive. That their lives hold no worth- especially with how many there are seen as pests even though they dont bite [except fire ants of course but this is just a regular ant]

naiad as a mayfly which "They usually come out of the water at dawn or just before nightfall to transform into adults, but some species leave the water at midday. Males usually surface well before the females" they are completely water 'born' bugs if you want to say. they went so far to make sure all these insects/arachnids [scorpions are arachnids did you know] are so well thought out to fit these characters

Description: "If fate favors those with diligence, why do I remain drifting on treacherous waters?" Shes the only one who in this line up hasnt been clearly identified as a 'killer' however thinking back to her original story is the drought enough reason to place the charge of manslaughter on her if people are deprived of enough resources they starve? or will we find something later

what we will find in future grace letters, her debut S shes to take the lives of the wretched in her b tier here she had to have killed someone to end up here matching the other prisoners in that regard

in rosemary shes aligned with uriel labs and the death of bella donna among who knows who else that dm caused from the employees work

[collapsedsquid]

Few countries’ economies are so bound to one resource. Global Witness, an international watchdog that monitors natural-resource exploitation, estimates that Myanmar’s jade trade was worth up to $31 billion in 2014, nearly half the nation’s GDP that year. Yet the industry remains shrouded. The ethnic Kachin, though native to the jade hills, control few of the mines. In the 1990s, the Kachin Independence Army (KIA), one of several ethnic armed groups fighting the state in Myanmar’s borderlands, lost ­control of territory around Hpakant. Today most of the big concessions belong to companies or cronies connected to the Burmese military elite. Even as the country has transitioned from five decades of military rule to semicivilian authority, jade has proved the limits of democratic governance. Most stones are smuggled over the border to neighboring China; only a fraction are subject to the tax needed to fill government coffers in one of Asia’s poorest countries. The scale of graft and unaccountability is such that Global Witness calls Myanmar’s jade economy the “biggest natural-resource heist in modern history.” [...] The world’s best jade mines are sealed off to nearly all foreigners. But I managed to access Hpakant to experience a place so beguiling to 18th century Chinese imperial envoys that hundreds perished en route in the malarial wilderness. The scenes before me look like a cross between a magnified ant farm and a Star Wars set. In the distance I spy what appear to be hundreds of tiny insects clinging to a hillside. As we drive closer, I realize they are men. Backhoes, excavators and giant trucks maneuver through a lunar landscape like creatures from an alien planet. Hpakant was once the domain of tigers and verdant foliage. All I see is dust and brown. Where prospectors used to dig by hand, now explosives and heavy machinery, mostly imported U.S. or Chinese brands, are ripping the entrails out of jungle, demolishing entire mountains within months. Already, Hpakant is mostly dead. Fatal accidents mount. Only the biggest, like a November 2015 landslide that killed about 200 miners, make headlines. Township officials have recorded hundreds of deaths in jade-mining accidents over the past year and a half. But locals say the real number is many times that. And in the hills, the Burmese army and Kachin rebels continue to wage war. “If there was no jade, there would be no war in Kachin state,” says Yup Zaw Hkawng, an ethnic Kachin who owned large mining concessions before the Burmese military wrested control of Hpakant. “We are living and sleeping on so much jade in our earth, but jade is Kachin’s curse.” [...] Sequestered from the outside world, Hpakant radiates a gold-rush lawlessness. Unexplained killings occur with regularity. While we are there, a schoolteacher is shot in the head. The day before, a jade trader died from an executioner’s bullet. Last year bombs exploded at the headquarters of two mining companies. In November, a jade scavenger at Hmaw Sisar mine was shot dead by military intelligence or the KIA, depending on who’s telling the story. “There is no real law in Hpakant,” says one of the immigration officers holding us, with a touch of apology. “We don’t know who to trust.”