#human instar

[apple-cores]

Juice Wayne and bird Instar for the vampire and werewolf theme to celebrate Artfight, characters i never got around to uploading 🙃 but i still love it!

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Maebelle "Maeby" Knott Species: Human (Pre-Lamia) Occupation: Magical Courier Age: 20 Years Old Played By: Lou Face Claim: Amandla Stenberg

“Don't shoot the messenger, at least sign for your package first.”

Curses and legacies, such grandiose stories that shake the earth and mold it, right? Things like that belong to places of immense importance or power, they don't start in Attleboro, Massachusetts. Unless of course, you are as unlucky as Maebelle Knott. Didn’t even have the decency to whisk her away to some fantastical world like the Chronicles of Narnia, just same old suburban life, now with demi-imminent peril sprinkled in. 

Maeby didn’t mean to get cursed. Not that anyone really ever does. But this was exceptionally out of her wheelhouse and really not even her fault. Consequences came all the same though. 

Let’s take it back a little bit. 

Maebelle, Mae, Maeby Knott, whatever you wanna call her, was raised in a pretty average house in a pretty average town in a pretty average state. Some good grades, some less than good grades. A decent dad (even if he was always busy at work) and a… mom who certainly was at least present. She had her closest buddy in the world in her little brother Brennan, and even one good friend from school. 

Well. 

She could really only ever keep one good friend from school. 

Maeby was odd, sure. Had a habit of taking things far too literally, or being off in her head daydreaming about a far off somewhere where things were better and more interesting. The only one to ever stick around was Maeby’s partner in crime. Knott and Rose. Though Rose and Knott might have been more appropriate. Maeby followed Rose around like a lost puppy. Doing anything the other girl wanted. Often getting dragged along for ‘adventures’ with her friend, and more often than not, was the one who got caught along the way. Wasn’t really ever anything too bad. Mostly just being told off by the farmer who’s abandoned barn they made a clubhouse in, getting run off from haunted houses that generally had more old folks than ghosts, or getting in trouble for loitering too much at the Emerald Square mall. Maeby didn’t mind ‘cause it meant the team was still together. 

Fairly normal. 

Until things got a little… tighter around the house. Dad got laid off as a sweep of innovation left half the company outsourced. And while he got another job right away, it wasn’t bringing in quite enough for bills, groceries, and fun. Brennan deserved better, Maeby had decided. And Rose and Knott had a plan to get some extra cash. 

Another haunted house. “Properly abandoned” Maeby was assured. And full of things they could collect and sell online. Noone would miss them, and noone would catch them. Foolproof. 

Except it wasn’t.  

The ‘ghost’ of the house was more of a witch. When Maeby was the one caught red handed with a strange statue in her hands, she thought for sure she’d just be yelled at, or that she could scamper off without ever being captured. Instead, everything changed. Or it would. Eventually. The blast had hit her like a truck, but afterwards nothing seemed too different. But the witch had her, and explained just exactly what was going to happen. 

She would become a monster, just like the statue she’d picked up. She’d eat her family one by one and those that came after would share Maeby’s curse. She’d soon trade nails for scales and claws and teeth. 

Maeby ran before hearing much more. Squirmed from her spot before any authorities could be called. For a while, she thought it was nothing. At least until the first scale appeared on her arm. Green, hard, and unmistakable. Research was necessary, but everything on the internet about curses and reptilian statues came up… nasty. Inconclusive except for one thing they all had in common. For the sake of her family, she had to get away. She was a danger to them, a danger to everyone around her. 

A little more digging, and Maeby found a massive spike in searches for this kind of thing. Other people asking the same questions, all localized somewhere… not too far from her honestly. Just a few hours up the coast. Some place called Wicked’s Rest. A plan began to form in her mind, and one fake college acceptance letter later, Maeby was on her way to the remote town in rural Maine. 

It wasn’t easy at first. Maeby had a little savings, but nothing too grand. It was good enough that she was able to start up research in earnest. Curses, it seemed, were common here. Enough so that a store downtown boasted cures of all kinds. However, Mister Adan Sinclair (as he liked to be called) found a curious case with Maeby’s not-so-little curse. 

He knew all about Lamia, and it appeared that was what Maeby was turning into. In a few months, years, or possibly even days she’d be trading her skin for scales. And learning more about it was vital. But not free. With nothing else to offer, Maeby asked for a job. And Master Sinclair accepted. 

Courier.  

Delivering all sorts of magical and mundanities all over town. Each week she worked, she’d get more details. Work enough, and she’d earn her cure. If she did turn, Sinclair assured that he’d still take care of her. Still let her work off the debt, and he’d help her with the more unsavory side of the carnivorous nature she’d slip into. 

Months went by, a few more patches of scales joined the few already on her arms and back, and Maeby was no closer to knowing. Maybe there was another way out there? Maybe Master Sinclair wasn’t the only resource in town. Only time would tell.  

Character Facts:

Personality: Brave, curious, creative, reliable, resourceful, flustered, impatient, blunt, judgemental, insecure

Maeby usually rides on her longboard, but sometimes uses her electric bike for longer trips or ones that go up a lot of hills.

She generally goes by her last name, Knott. People have to earn first names. 

She is partially deaf in both ears. When she doesn't want to listen to someone she'll just turn her hearing aids off mid convo, or tune them into her music instead. 

Maeby loves messing with electronics, both physically taking them apart and modifying, as well as software/some hacking. She has hacked the Wicked's Rest town hall site about once a month since she figured out a way through its defenses, each time she only adds a little waving snail gif. No one has taken them down yet. There are currently 17 hidden snails.

She is crashing in the old dressing room of a tiny abandoned theater downtown. She's rigged up electricity and Wi-Fi from the building next door and has a secret entrance in the back, as well as a dumb waiter to bring up groceries or anything else large. 

She got stuck in the goo, doesn’t remember much of it, but will make up stories about it every time she's asked

She doesn't know what kind of reptile she'd turn into, but she hopes it's a gecko cause it would be cool to climb up walls

[jpitha]

The Oxygen Breathers: Careful what you wish for.

It’s another story in this world.

Despite my best efforts, the cycles continue.

The solar years pass, and I age.

My name was drawn, and in the twilight of my life, in my final instar, I find myself speaking for the Coalition. I don’t rule, not really. The Coalition is lead by a panel of ten people. Not all races are represented, but those who aren’t trust us to have their best interests in mind.

When the humans were ejected from Coalition space, their final words were not of anger, or jealousy or resentment. All they told us was, “Beware the Felimen. They are planning something.” We laughed off their warning, thinking they were just sore losers. Thinking that they had finally felt the sting of a Coalition sapient and went back to their corner, nursing a bruise.

I wish we had listened then.

Ten solar years after the humans left, the Felimen made their move. Sweeping in to colony worlds bordering their space, they struck quickly and decisively. It wasn’t a mistake, or a miscommunication or an accident, it was war.

And we were losing.

One by one our worlds fell to them. One by one the sapients of the Coalition surrendered to the Felimen. If they surrendered before an attack began then the Felimen were magnanimous. They would send down some of their number as a garrison and replace the administrators with those loyal to them. Life would continue on their world much as it had done so before. If they chose to fight back, then their destruction was complete.

We needed help, and we only knew one place to go.

Honestly? I was surprised that the Humans would even take our calls. We sent envoys and gave them our ansible and they called back almost immediately. “Come and meet with us.” they said “We will discuss things.” Because of the dangers presented by traveling, I was chosen to speak for the Coalition and packed into a ship with a very small retinue and we took a long, circuitous route to our border with Human space. I remember thinking it was odd. They shared a border with the Felimen as well, yet I heard no reports of violence on their borders.

We met on a large human ship right on the border. This time it was my turn to suit up. Their oxygen based breathing gas is utterly toxic to me. My race is fortunate that we can be in the presence of their gas mix - for a short time - without taking damage, but it was still not recommended. Our ship eased up to theirs and a docking umbilical slid out and connected to our ship. “Administrator!” A bridge officer turned towards me. “Their breathing gas is… different than what we have on file.”

I turned sharply and unconsciously gestured surprise. “How is it different?”

They turned back to their screen, peering carefully at the display. “It seems… to be a mix of their atmosphere and ours. Half ours, half theirs. It’s odd, neither party can breathe that.”

There was a tone from the comm set. The ansible officer raised their arm. “They are hailing us, audio only.”

“Greetings Coalition vessel. This is the human ambassadorial ship Speak Softly. In the name of cooperation, we have adjusted our breathing mix to be a combination of yours and ours. The temperature, pressure, and gravity have been adjusted to be more comfortable to you as well. We will all require masks for breathing, but full pressure suits are not necessary. We will of course not be upset if you wear one anyway, but we will not be suited. Additionally, the Empress of the Human Empire herself has graced us with her presence. She will be speaking on our behalf. We await your presence.”

Empress? The humans have an empire? A single sapient that rules over the entirety of their space? How odd. While I was ruminating the commander of the ship got my attention. “Administrator Kre’kk, you’re not actually going to go over to their ship without a suit are you? That is madness.”

I raised an arm in a gesture of calm. “I will, commander. The rest of my retinue however shall be suited. If the humans wish to compromise, then we shall compromise.”

In hardly any time at all, we were ready. I was wearing my mask, and my retinue was suited up. We had dithered over taking weapons, but decided against it. This was not a show of force. We were coming to them, arm parts open, asking for their help. We were the ones who did not have the strong argument.

As we stepped through the umbilical, their airlock opened. Three humans - not suited - stood there, in their breathing masks as they had said. “Welcome Administrator. Please accompany us.”

I had to force myself to not make a gesture of fear. They were small and dense and looked like they could lift all of us at once. I had only seen images of unsuited humans in reports and had only ever seen their faces when they came to my station so long ago and got into a disagreement with the Felimen. I had ejected them from the station then, and their leader, a human named Margaret had warned me then. I wonder if Margaret would be pleased to know that she was right all along.

We were lead through their halls towards a meeting room. The human ship was bright and utilitarian. Not one bit was wasted space. It was surprising. Their ship was so large! Why were they this efficient with their use of space? Me and my retinue were taller than the humans and their ship felt like a warren. Small, winding with low ceilings. Fortunately, I didn’t have to duck, except when we passed through a pressure door; they’re not using force curtains?

After a short walk, we reached a meeting room. The guards accompanying us did not enter, but instead formed up on either side of the door. “Please, enter.” At that, their eyes flicked away from us, and took up station looking straight ahead. We entered the room and…

And I gasped sharply and made a gesture of surprise. The person sitting in the center of the long table was Margaret Kellerman! She was not in her polished vermillion suit, but instead wore a long, flowing outfit in the same vermillion color. She sat slightly elevated above everyone else and looked down at me imperiously. Her eyes widened in recognition, and she smiled broadly with her mouth closed. “Why, Administrator Kre’kk. As I live and breathe. I had not expected to ever see you again.”

Her voice! It wasn’t the translator speaking for her after all. She was speaking the trade language perfectly, without machine translation. Her voice was clear and beautiful. Following the protocol, I bent my body towards the centerpoint. A bow. “Empress Kellerman. I admit I was not expecting to see you either. When we had first met, I did not know you were royal.”

Her smile settled into something that my translator’s body language module described as a smirk. “That was by design, Administrator. One cannot advertise they are a member of the royal family and also go galavanting across the galaxy leading a small group of mercenaries. Still, it is good to see you again. I recall that you were a being of reason. Did you ever reach out to your family on the colony worlds bordering the Felimen?”

She remembered that? Impressive. “I did, Empress. My crèche mate transferred to an inner world shortly after you left and I messaged them. They are with us still.”

“Most excellent. I knew I was right in warning you.” She looked down at the people on either side of them. They looked up and she nodded. “Now then, Administrator. What can humanity do to help?”

“Just like that? You’re willing to help? We ejected you from Coalition space solar years ago.”

She put up a hand and gestured. “True, true. But perhaps we were a little too… rowdy when we first met. It’s just how we are. Work hard, play hard you know? We also were coming off our first war with the Felimen and were a little touchy. We’re willing to extend our hand to assist.” Her smile slid just a small amount. “Our assistance will not be free, however.”

Here it comes. “We anticipated this Empress. My ship is loaded down with trade goods, currency, and I have authority to offer you any price for your help.”

She chuckled. “Oh no, no, Kre’kk, we don’t want money. We want a seat on the Administration Council. We wish to join the Coalition as equals.”

I tried to hide my surprise. That’s it? There would be arguments when I returned, but here and now? It seemed almost too cheap. “I-it is done, Empress. Humanity will have a seat on the council.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. I have been given authority to speak for the Coalition. Right now I am the Coalition.”

She clapped her hands together once. “Excellent! Thank you for being so reasonable once again, Kre’kk.” She smirked again. “Not even trying to negotiate. You must be desperate.”

“We are, Empress. The Felimen seem unstoppable. They are on a war of conquest. We can only count ourselves fortunate that it is not a war of extermination.”

The small hairs over one of her eyes raised slightly. My body language module indicated that what I said interested her. “Do you wish it was? Speak carefully, Administrator.”

My chromatophores tried to cycle, to match the color and texture of the floor. I forced myself to stop trying to hide. What did she mean? “I… can’t say that I do, Empress. I dislike the war, but I… harbor no desire to see the Felimen exterminated.”

She bent down and spoke very softly to the human on one side of her. I was not able to hear what she said and I knew better than to turn up my audio amplification. “As you wish.” She raised both her hands and addressed the room. “The Felimen shall be defeated but not obliterated. We shall push them back to their original borders and set up a DMZ to keep them contained. So I order.”

“So it is done.” The rest of the humans in the room responded to her words. My retinue started. It was the first thing that anyone other than the Empress had said.

“There. Now that is out of the way, would you care for a tour? Big Stick is behind us, in nullspace. Would you like to see it? It’s pretty impressive if I do say so myself. I don’t think any Coalition races have ever been on a human dreadnought before.”

“Empress, I thank you for the invitation, but I must report back to the Coalition when they are to expect your assistance. Do you have an idea how long before we’ll see ships?”

“Oh, it’s done already.”

“I do not understand.”

“We have defeated the Felimen. All of their ships inside Coalition space have been destroyed, and all of the colony worlds that they controlled have been re-taken. Please, check your ansible.”

I turned and faced my retinue. One of them took out a pad and connected back to our ship. The ansible officer was shaken. There were reports of gigantic ships materializing out of nowhere and immediately destroying any Felimen ship they saw. Still others executed pinpoint strikes on colony worlds, seemingly only destroying Felimen administration. Already, word was coming that the Felimen were on the run, and abandoning their war wholesale.

I turned and looked at the Empress. “How?”

This time she smiled wide, with her teeth exposed. “Oh Kre’kk, we can’t give away all our secrets. However I will tell you this: None of you, not this Coalition, not the Felimen not anyone, ever presented us with a real threat. We were being nice and neighborly. We got a little rowdy and you asked us to leave. Fine. Like a good neighbor we obliged. Now you come asking for help and again, like a good neighbor, we helped. It is not our fault that you never decided to learn more about us. We were always only ‘Oxygen Breathers’ to you.” She stood. “Now then. Would you like a tour? You can’t see the whole thing, but we’ll take out enough to impress.”

Her smile was terrifying.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

At Last, the Atlantic Blue Crab!

A common sight on dinner tables in Canada, America, and Mexico, the blue crab-- also known as the Atlantic blue crab or the Maryland Blue crab (Callinectes sapidus)-- is native to the the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic coast of North America. This species is a bottom dweller, and can occupy a range of habitats from freshwater tributaries to the open bays and gulfs of the ocean itself. At times it may be found at high tide, but most individuals remain submerged at depths up to 36 m (120 ft) deep.

As indicated by its name, the claws and front body of male blue crabs are bright blue. Females are carry a blue tinge, but are largely brown or olive, though the tips of their claws are bright red. Otherwise, the two sexes may be distinguished by the shape of their underside, or "apron"; males have an inverted 'T' shape, while females have a wider, rounder shape. Individuals of both sexes may grow up to 23 cm (9 in) in width, and weigh up to 136 g (0.3 lbs).

Spawning for C. sapidus can occur year-round, but for most populations it peaks in October or November. When females are ready, they travel up estuaries and rivers to where populations of males are more concentrated, and then release pheromones in their urine to attract mates. Male crabs then compete for access, and guard their chosen mates fiercely for up to a week. During this time, the female molts, at which point the male fertilizes her. Afterwards, she may retain her mate's sperm for up to a year, during which time she returns to saltier waters. A female can fertilize 2 million eggs at a time, and will carry them in a mass under her abdomen until they hatch, about a week after fertilization. She may do this as many as 4 times throughout a single mating season.

Once hatched, Atlantic blue crab larvae are released into the ocean. Each larvae spends 30-40 days going through seven larval stages known as zoea; these stages are similar to the instars of a larval insect. However, zoea have hard shells and must molt at each stage of development. After the initial zoea stages, juvenile C. sapidus enter the megalops stage, which lasts 6-20 days. During this time juveniles move from the ocean into the estuaries in which they spawned. Finally, they molt into their final form, which resembles an adult-- albeit much smaller. Both males and females continue to molt throughout the year until they reach their full size. In total, both sexes go through about 25 molts each throughout their lives, which spans about 3 years in the wild.

Blue crabs have a wide and varied diet, as they are omnivores. In their larval stages, Maryland blue crabs consume primarily plankton and detritus. Megalops and adults will feed on clams, mussels, and oysters, small fish, kelp, seaweed, carrion, smaller blue crabs, and animal waste. In turn, both juveniles and adults are food for eels, large fish some sharks, stingrays, and humans. In fact, predation upon larval and sub-adult blue crabs is so heavy that, of 8 million eggs released by the mother, only 1 or 2 typically survive to adulthood.

Conservation status: The Maryland blue crab has not been evaluated by the IUCN. However, in recent decades, fisheries have noticed a severe decline in abundance, likely due to over-harvesting and pollution.

If you send me proof that you’ve made a donation to UNRWA or another fund benefiting Palestinians– including esim donations and verified gofundmes– I’ll make art of any animal of your choosing.

Photos

Kim Cover

Lynn Strauss

Jo O'Keefe

[creature-wizard]

Hey, baby witches, hatchling mages, and second instar sorcerers...

If you see somebody on the Internet claiming they're setting up some kind of spiritual/magical academy, or looking for worthy pupils to teach, or - and especially - looking for a worthy pupil to teach, you need to be very wary.

Literally anybody can claim that they have all kinds of deep, true spiritual knowledge. Literally anybody can scrounge up a few mystical books and learn just enough to make it seem like they know a lot to someone new to magic and mysticism. Anybody can whip up some conspiracy theory to explain why the stuff they just pulled out of their bum three minutes ago isn't accepted by academic scholars and mainstream religion.

(And speaking of conspiracy theories, most conspiracy theories you're going to run into are going to be some variant on The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion and/or blood libel and early modern witch panic. Some conspiracy theorists swap out "Jews" for "the Catholic Church" or something, but it's no less bullshit because the source is the same.)

It's always worth asking yourself, "How do I know they aren't lying to me?" And don't just go with "I can just sense they're telling the truth" because it really does not work that way. What you might be "sensing" is their conviction in their own bullshit. Or they might be a really good liar. Or they might be saying stuff that feels true because it seems to confirm your own biases.

Also, if you see somebody telling you that reaching your highest magical potential means doing some kind of sex magic, or offering to teach sex magic to beginners, run. This person is a sexual predator.

I recommend ESOTERICA and Angela's Symposium to start getting a grounded view of religious and spiritual history, which will make it much less likely you'll fall for a scam.

Also, remember that at the end of the day, vital spiritual or magical knowledge is not locked away with any individual person or even group. The main thing that any specific person or group has is their own take on things, which generally as subjective as anybody else's.

Just because information is commonly available doesn't mean it's automatically bad or wrong. Like yeah, you do need to be critical about what you read in books or on the Internet, but you need to be just as critical with an actual human being claiming to have the really deep secrets.

[ratcandy]

Fucked up bug fact of the day?

(photo cred)

This is an Ensign Wasp from the family Evaniidae. Like most itty bitty wasps, they are parasitoids, with their main targets being cockroaches.

And no, this is not the similarly cool and fun wasp that does the zombie roach thing, that would be jewel wasps, instead these guys go for The Babies.

A mother ensign wasp will find a roach ootheca (fancy name for egg case) and stab her ovipositor into it to lay egg. Then, the baby wasp larva will be born within the egg case, and it will begin eating all the eggs inside. This is extra freaky because the first instar of the larva has fucking teeth (serrated mandibles; theorized for use in cutting through the eggs):

(photo taken from the research paper linked above - The paper also mentions that if two larva end up laid within the same egg case, only one will make it to adulthood, because one will ALWAYS eat the other. Awesome)

Could you imagine how Fucked Up this would be on a human scale. Sorry maybe don't imagine that it's a little gross. But yea. Ensign wasps <3 They mean a lot to me

[onenicebugperday]

@trooperette97 submitted: The saga of Fred and Bob continues!!!

I was able to preserve their chrysalis in resin!!!

Green is Fred's (it's upside down as I didn't fully pay attention as I was putting it in) and Bob's is blue!!! It's interesting how parts of the chrysalis have gone clear!!!

Alsoooooo please have some illegally small babies!!!

Seeing as they are 1st instar black swallowtails, I'd like to think they are fred and Bob's babies!

These little ones will remain outside due to 1. They are part of the overwinter generation (and I don't want the stress of making sure they stay cool enough to not emerge too early) and 2. They are on my parsley at home so I don't have to worry about human predation. I know that bird or insect predation can happen but that is natural and that they aren't doing it to be malicious, just trying to survive.

I might give these little ones names when they start showing some green.

I think I might have submitted something about Fred or Bob the past few times you've had submissions open lol!!!

The resin casts turned out very nice! Please keep us updated on Fred and Bob's very tiny and precious children, I hope they make it :)

[deathmoth-blog]

Graellsia isabellae, the Spanish moon moth, is in the silkmoth family Saturniidae. It is the only species in the monotypic genus Graellsia. The species was first described by Mariano de la Paz Graells y de la Agüera in 1849 and the genus was erected by Augustus Radcliffe Grote in 1896

This moth is native to Peninsular Spain. They live high up in the Pyrenees and other mountain ranges where the climate is cold. There is a small representation in some places located in France and Switzerland where they are not native but instead further generations of captive moths through repopulation attributed to human action with specimens from Spain.

They are relics originating from the Ice age or beyond as It is thought that their habitat is a refuge location. This means that for the past few millions of years, while the climate of Europe has drastically changed, the conditions in the small areas in Pyrenees have remained stable, and never changed, allowing the small remnant populations of this moth to survive for thousands of years in these small habitats. They are split off from the lineage of 'Moon Moths', genus Actias

At the end of April and beginning of May the moth begins to hatch after overwintering in the cocoon. Normally moths from the same parental line won't copulate, so it is necessary to take this into account when the moth is bred in captivity. After copulation the female lays about 100 to 150 eggs on the favoured food plant, pines. The larva hatch after 1 to 1+1⁄2 weeks and begin to eat the very hard pine needles. It takes about one and a half months for the caterpillars to reach the last instar. In the last instar the caterpillars go down from the tree to pupate under leaves on the ground. In this stage the pupae in the cocoon overwinter until the next spring.

[vandaliatraveler]

Splendor in the dill.

When I woke up this morning, I was surprised to find the plump dill chomper above going to town in my herb garden. It's impossible for me to feel anything but joy when I find such a beautiful creature taking advantage of my human labor to improve its own life circumstances. You're welcome to all you can eat, child.

BTW, this is the fifth instar of the magnificent black swallowtail (Papilio polyxenes), which depends on plants in the carrot family as a food source. Parsley and dill are first stops on the black swallowtail buffet line. Next life stage for this youngin is pupation.

[entomolog-t]

Can I play the name guessing game as well?

I only have guesses for Mark and Sal.

Mark - as in a “mark” in a con. The intended victim of a “con man”. I never thought of it before but I suppose Borrowers are running a con, taking from humans without anyone noticing.

Sal- is his name short for “Salvage” as in finding odds and ends and giving them new life or purpose. How borrowers often find lost or cast aside human objects and create a new tool out of said findings.

Fun games and really fun name meanings from the ones that have been uncovered. That’s awesome! You’re clever.

I WAS NOT EXPECTING SOMEONE TO GET MARK THAT FAST 😭💀 there's some good reason for that name too.

Ding ding ding!! Winner, gagnant! (Only the Canadians are getting that reference)

Not quite on Sal though! He's going to be a tough one. Another hint- aside from Bram, all my tinys have a trend with their names.

5/8 character names deciphered (Bonus if anyone can figure out what's going on with Clyde from instar)

[apple-cores]

hits them with a purple beam

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Oliver O'Rourke Species: Human (Pre-Lamia) Occupation: Art Teacher Age: 33 Years Old Played By: Gray Face Claim: Sam Claflin

"My family? Turned into luggage. Tragic, yes. No, not really…"

TW: Parental death

It’s just so easy for a small town to coil up around a person. Wicked’s Rest always had too tight a grip on Ollie. He grew up restless, from his bouncing knees to his daydreaming mind, and somewhat smothered by a mother and grandmother who only seemed to get more overprotective the older he got. But as a child, that house at the very, very edge of Worm Row seemed almost magical, like his grandmother’s fascination with the Flat and her host of historical paraphernalia, or his mother’s tender adoration of the Museum’s collection. The shine wore off, though. Soon, because kids are cruel, what’d once been earnest and exciting turned embarrassing; he was quickly, chronically short on friends, self-confidence, and space. As for his father, and everything beyond Wicked’s Rest - Ollie had hardly known his dad long enough to miss the idea of him, but… he could understand wanting to skip town, sometimes. Even just to see! He was always made to feel some sort of bad, though, for even thinking of everywhere he read about, far from home.

So he didn’t. Not out loud, anyway. Like he didn’t complain about schoolyard bullies, or that particularly, yes, small town kind of loneliness - the low ache of spending your adolescence in a claustrophobic world where you knew everyone, forever, and never really got the chance to slough off the stories life left you with. Like that kid whose dad dropped out of parenting to start a band, or something. Or Weird Willa’s grandson, yeah, the hoarder who ran the Serpent’s Flat tours. Or the boy whose mom freaked out over the craziest stuff. Like, cried on the field because he took a soccer ball to the head and needed a couple stitches. And pulled him out of every sport forever. And chased down the school bus because she hadn’t realized the marine biology field trip was leaving town; just for the afternoon, but no, she reamed that teacher out right on the highway. And so on, and so on. 

By the time Ollie was this close to escaping high school, he was sure he needed to escape Wicked’s Rest, too. College seemed like an excuse, yes, but - a good one. Maybe the best he’d get. So Ollie simply lost his application to UMWR, and quietly started packing. When an acceptance letter came back, his family couldn’t believe it. In a bad way. How could he go? Didn’t he understand? 

Understand what? That he was supposed to spend the rest of his life managing their unresolved crap, whatever it was? That he ought to give up on going anywhere, or doing anything, because they were afraid to? That he knew they didn’t think he’d make it doing whatever he did, anyway? That wasn’t fair, his mother insisted; it was only that he really should consider the risks, the cost. None of which anyone but Ollie seemed able to define. More than ready to prove something, he left that old house on a bad note that never quite stopped ringing in his ears. 

It wasn’t his family’s fretting that brought him back to Maine. He was fine on his own. (Obviously. Not flinching away from risks and costs of any kind, ever.) But they weren’t. His grandmother was getting older. And that house needed more and more work just to stay standing, leaning heavier on the Flat by the year. So he’d visit, take care of things. And go back to his cats and classes, in Portland. There’d always be another round of students getting up to their elbows in acrylic paint or staging a new play or practicing the heck out of their next concert number. And… summer? And the next relationship he’d get cold feet about for no good reason. And talking his mother out of her vague, frantic spirals of worry. Even if he still didn’t understand what she was so afraid of, he could at least recognize the patterns; the regular reticulations of her anxiety, so much like his own. And not. Still goddamn mysterious. But predictable, at least. Life, in general, was predictable. At some point, that had stopped feeling stifling. Couldn’t notice how tightly his sense of life had constricted if he didn’t go wriggling too hard against the flow. 

But Serpent’s Flat did some writhing of its own. Suddenly, his mother was… gone. An accident? Willa couldn’t seem to say, exactly; she just begged him to come home, stay home. He did, for her sake. She seemed to think it was for his. It’s been several months, now, of weathering both the raw shock of his mom’s death and the nearness of his grandma’s. Even her ever-odder questions and ever-deeper frowns were some kind of comfort. Then it came: what felt like a final talk. And what a talk it was. Apparently, his mom had been murdered, hunted, because she - because something had gone wrong, like it hadn’t for ages. Apparently the O’Rourkes had a problem. Apparently, that problem was… why wasn’t she laughing? Why wasn’t this insane explanation for everything from jaw pain (stress, clearly) to back aches (more stress, clearly) not one last, hilarious joke? Weird Willa, always a riot. Spinning another story. Their story.  No; not really. No way. He said so then, and he reminded himself, again, as his skin crawled all the way through his grandma’s funeral, her desperate certainty haunting him like a headache. Which he still has, as he carries on clearing that hoard-cluttered house that nobody in their right mind would ever buy, and getting ready to head back to work because he’s out of bereavement and sick leave and then some, and… everything else he needs to do. It’s just a headache. Just stress. Clearly.

Character Facts:

Personality: Creative, empathetic, perceptive, hard-working, finicky, perfectionistic, restless, stubborn

Ollie’s a vegetarian, and a squeamish one - he always did love animals. Which is unfortunate, given… yeah. 

In Portland, Ollie taught a mix of arts subjects across levels - studio art, music, some drama, mostly high school, a little primary, some community center stuff over the summers. Really, he’s been teaching in some kind of way for ages; he was one of those kids who showed the new art/drama nerds the ropes in high school, and spent a few teenaged summers as a swim instructor. Since moving back to Wicked’s Rest, he’s worked as a TA at UMWR for the summer semester to help make ends meet and managed to nab a contract at his old high school for fall. He’s hoping to get this whole alleged “man-eating snake monster” issue sorted out before classes start up again. Totally doable. Right? 

Most of his artistic hobbies have turned into work, and stopped being something he does for himself and the joy of it; besides those, his pastimes run outdoorsy. We’re talking gardening - picked up from the grandmother he’s just lost, in the garden he’s supposedly going to sell off with the rest of the old family house - running, hiking, and, yes, swimming. Nothing serpenty about that, obviously.

His maternal grandmother, Willa O’Rourke, was something of a local character; she worked as a very enthusiastic tour guide at the Serpent’s Flat Viewing Station, and was a notorious hoarder and patron of antiques stores, estate sales, auctions, and other opportunities to pick up “eclectic” goods. Looking around that old house he’s trying to pack up, it’s difficult to tell what’s family junk, superstitious (and occasionally supernatural) odds and sods, and/or the disorganized notes and clippings of an amateur historian.  

The O’Rourkes never allowed pets of any kind, despite Ollie’s childhood hopes; his mom feared having bite-size companions around might tempt her seemingly dormant curse out into the open, and Ollie’s, too. This, of course, was never explained to Ollie, who adopted a couple cats after he scored his first teaching contract. Vince and Theo have been weirdly aloof, lately; adjusting to the recent spate of extra-weirdness the town’s had going on, that’s all. Definitely.

[hypnosiacon-archive]

Hivensect: An umbrella for terms connected to the arthropods, insect-like creatures, hives and hiveminds, nonhumanity and alien nature. It is not a xenogender, but a different alignment in itself, though they may overlap or be combined.

Hivensect includes concepts such as:

Insects, crustaceans, arachnids, and other arthropod animals

Hive and hiveminds, arthropod anatomy

Creatures similar to arthropods, be it real life animals or not

Alien, alien anatomy, nonhumanity that cannot be perceived by humans

Terminology:

Hiv- / Hive- / Hiven-: Prefixes

-hiv / -hive / -hiven / -sect / -ensect / -vensect: Sufixes

Hivensectoity / Hiveninity: An equivalent of femininity/masculinity

Ensect: An equivalent of man/woman

Instar: An equivalent of boy/girl

Hiven: An equivalent of guy/gal

Hivensic: A Hivensect gender alignment.

HIVIN: A Hivensect-in-Nature Term

[ A rebuild of Hivensect ] [ Hivensect Archive: @hivensect ] [ Additional tags: @revenant-coining, @petrichorvoices ]

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Grab A Drink with the Asian Tiger Mosquito

As its name implies, Aedes albopictus, also known as the forest mosquito, is endemic to Southeast Asia, where it thrives in the humid tropics and subtropics. There, and in similar regions, this species is active year-round. Where it has been introduced in more temperate regions, the tiger mosquito is only active during the warmer months of the year. Currently it is found on every continent except Antarctica, spread unintentionally by humans throughout the globe.

The Asian tiger mosquito is among the smaller mosquito species, at only 10 mm (0.39 in) long at the maximum. Males are typically smaller than females, and have much bushier antennae, as well as functional auditory receptors. Conversely, females have a longer probiscus Otherwise, the two sexes are largely similar; both have black bodies with white markings along the abdomen and legs. Like all mosquitos, the forest mosquito has two sets of wings, but they aren't very good fliers and rarely stray more than 500 m (0.3 miles) from their breeding grounds.

As with other parasitic mosquito species, only the female feeds on blood. Female forest mosquitos are generalists, in that they can feed on both mammals and birds. In addition, they will also consume nectar and sap along with the males. Females seek out their hosts using their antennae, which carry receptors for carbon dioxide as well as scent and humidity. Both sexes are active mainly during the day, but will hunt and forage at night as well given ample opportunity. This species is also an important food source for many other animals, especially when they're in their larval phase. As adults, bats and birds are their primary predators.

Forest mosquito females only feed on blood when they are in the egg-production phase of their reproductive cycle. They can mate up to four times, producing over 200 eggs over their lifespan,although those in temperate regions have a shorter reproductive period. When they're ready to mate, males will form large swarms, or leks, a few feet above the ground. This attracts females, whose wingbeats produce an audible buzz that males can pick up and hone in on. Males and females mate while in flight, and once they've finished the female departs to lay her eggs in a stagnant or slow-moving body of water.

On average eggs take about 7-10 days to hatch, though some clutches may take up to a month. Once they hatch, the larvae feed on small bits of detritus and bacteria, while developing through four stages of growth called instars. The time this process takes is also variable, ranging from 4 days to 42. At the end, the larvae forms a pupa, from which it emerges 2 days later as a mature adult.

Conservation status: This species has not been evaluated by the IUCN; however, given their large population and adaptability, they are considered stable in their home range. In other parts of the world where they've been introduced, they are considered a pest species both for their irritating bites and their role as disease carriers.

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Photos

James Gathany via Wikipedia

James Gathany

Ary Farajollahi

[cordycepsbian]

we are cherishing the baby sophodra concept art So Much. theory under the cut

so given

what sophodra says in the latest episode about something she can't remember

the lore that macrovolutes consider their previous instars to be different people than themselves

we Suspect that sophodra might have seen proof that humans are sapient when she was younger and simply forgot as she got older. and with all the little sophodra we've been seeing lately we're guessing the latest episode might show us what she saw

[stealthnoodle]

asking about papillion??? :>

The mental journey behind it:

I can't believe I've never written a Sailor Moon fic, I should get on that

I fucking love my barely-there queen Sailor Heavy Metal Papillon

Spelling is hard

No one can stop me from writing her planet's people as bugs that look human after metamorphosis

I don't have much in the doc but this is probably the opening:

In the earliest wave of dawn, between the flutters of the queen's wings, the sky shimmered, and for an instant, there appeared to be something above it. Nymphe first glimpsed it at the cusp of her second instar, when her eyes were still wet and vague and her limbs still nubs. She squirmed toward it, winding her way up her mother's leg. For this she was scolded and wrapped back among the leaves. "But I saw something," she said. Only the canopy, she was told, same as it ever was. The eternal cocoon, as exempt as the queen from the cycle of metamorphosis. Wasn't it lovely to have something steadfast in the world?