#it was at the tail end of its lifespan when i bought it in like. 2020ish

[anonymouspuzzler]

I heard ya talk on Holly’s Side Order Part 2 stream that your capture card got totaled. I know it’s not a big issue right now, but will that be hard to replace/upgrade?

not necessarily hard, just a pain to research what's gonna be the best fit for me. I use a USB capture card because I stream from a laptop, and in theory I wanna be able to swap between consoles somewhat easily (most of what I stream from console is my switch, but I do have a PS3 I'd like to stream from eventually), so I gotta find something affordable that hits both those parameters. all that said time isn't gonna really allow me to stream regularly again til May or later, so this is all a problem for future puzz LMAO

[mollymauk-teafleak]

be as you’ve always been

Alternate Title: everyone’s nb bitch, let’s get you some gender affirming underwear

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This is based on a request by the lovely @minky-for-short and some truly beautiful art of Caduceus which you can see and bask in here. Huge thanks to @tendermosses for letting me base a ficlet on their work and for always doing such amazing art for fjord and caduceus! 

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Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 or reblogging to let me know what you think!

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Caduceus had known, since moving out of the grove and into the city, that his life went at a very different pace to most people’s. He didn’t know if it was because he was a firbolg, because he talked more to trees with lifespans of centuries than to people or because of brain chemistry reasons. But why's had never particularly concerned Caduceus, he tried to take people as they were, as long as they did the same for him.

And these people made decisions almost without thinking, they moved from one task to the next without pause, one word could send them careening onto a completely new train of thought while Caduceus was stuck on one three stations back.

And some did it so quickly, so without any kind of traceable logic, that all Caduceus could do was cling on as tight as he could and follow along in complete ignorance to see where he ended up.

But then he spoke to some of his friends and realised, to his mild relief, that no. That was just what Mollymauk and Jester were like.

He also realised that sometimes it led to very good things.

Molly and Jester were two of his closest friends and two of his most regular customers, given that the theatre where Mollymauk worked was just down the block and that Jester had an addiction to sweet things. They were usually there, talking together or with their partners, and Caduceus had grown to love the sound of their voices mixing pleasantly with the noise of the cafe.

That evening, a half hour shy of closing, they had both been sitting on the tall chairs against the counter, Jester’s short legs swinging happily halfway up, Molly’s lanky ones folded underneath him but they would have touched the floor if he’d let them. The discussion had turned to sewing, how best to work with the sequined and beaded fabric Molly needed to wrestle for the theatre’s next show without breaking his sewing machine.

Caduceus had been scoring tomorrow’s loaves with the elaborate leaf and vine patterns he liked to do, bringing his work out onto the counter because there were no other customers in and so he could listen to his friend’s chatter. Jester had been recounting a memorable night with some sequinned lingerie she’d bought the other week, how so many had come loose and turned up in places they weren’t meant to be that she’d had to buy new sheets, Molly cackling and snorting at all the appropriate places. Or, rather, inappropriate places.

Caduceus had murmured, not particularly minding whether they heard him or not, that lingerie mystified him a little but he’d always wanted to give it a try.

The immediate silence told him his friends had definitely heard. And the look they gave each other, barely concealed glee and eagerness, told him they intended to do something about it.

Which brought Cad to where he was now, legs folded almost up to his chest, in the cramped passenger seat of Mollymauk’s car. Caduceus didn’t know a lot about cars but it didn’t take much to see that Molly’s had gone beyond being on its last legs and was now running on pure willpower and prayers to the Moonweaver. It felt like the bass of the music pouring out of the speakers was going to be enough to shake it apart and Jester piped up from the back seat that the door handle had come off.

“There’s duct tape under the seat, babe,” Molly called back, unconcerned, learning forward to turn down the volume when he saw how Cad was wincing but being too awkward to say anything.

“You really don’t need to do this,” Cad insisted gently, “You’ve both been working all day, it’s getting late...”

“So have you,” Jester pointed out, voice a little indistinct through the strip of tape she was holding in her teeth, “And we don’t mind, it’ll be fun! We can help you pick out something nice! Anyhow, Beau and Yasha are at the gym until eight, Fjord too.”

“And Caleb has the kids,” Molly hummed, spinning the wheel lazily, far further than he should really have to just to take an easy corner, “This is a bonding exercise, Deucey. You need back up on something like this. You need your GNC club.”

“GNC?” Caduceus tilted his head.

“Gender non conforming,” Molly supplied, “You know, people who get it. Gender’s dead but friendship is not.”

“Your NB buddies!” Jester grinned, her head pushing in between the two of them, duct tape stuck to her horns, catching her homemade earrings with the plastic gummy bears, “Wait...your NBuddies!”

Caduceus considered that, his ears flapping a little as he took the tape off for Jester. He liked the idea of being part of a club. Even more, he liked the idea of being understood. He’d been worried about that when he’d first moved, breaking away from the grove where things were fluid and constantly changing as nature itself and entering a place where there might be rules and expectations in place that made sense to everyone but him. Where he would have to explain himself and define himself with terms that weren’t his own.

But here he was, feeling safe in a very unsafe vehicle, with friends to gladly cheer him on as he threw open the windows of the self he’d made a home in and tried new things.

Caduceus folded the piece of tape over and over in his long fingers and smiled.

“So what is it that mystifies you, exactly?” Mollymauk twitched some scandalous lace as they moved deeper into the boutique. Apparently this is where he and Jester had been coming for ages, enough that the drow behind the counter had known their names and greeted them with high fives.

“I guess...the concept?” Caduceus held his tail so it wouldn’t knock anything over, some of the displays were elaborate and delicate looking and full of things that would probably vibrate loudly if they hit the floor and that would be embarrassing, “I thought the idea of sex was to wear nothing rather than something. Where in the whole...process does this stuff come in?”

Molly nodded, managing to listen intently while dragging Jester by the tail so she wouldn’t dive headfirst into the costumes part of the shop, “Anywhere really. They make stuff you can still fuck in, if efficiency is what you’re worried about. But I think the function of this kind of outfit is to make you feel pretty, y’know? Get you in the right headspace, get you feeling yourself, yeah? It doesn’t always need to be about sex.”

“Sometimes I just wear pretty lingerie under my clothes cos it puts me in a good mood!” Jester bounced on the balls of her feet, ducking behind racks to sneak sips of the milkshake she’d smuggled past the cashier, “Helps me feel more like me.”

“Oh,” Cad said softly, tilting his head to consider the silk and satin and lace around them in a different way, “That sounds nice, actually.”

“Which is why it’s important to choose things you really like,” Molly nodded encouragingly, taking a sip of Jester’s shake and dodging the punch she aimed at his shoulder, “It’s a treat for yourself, this kind of stuff. And, when it inevitably shortens Fjord’s shorts by a good few inches because you’re going to look utterly stunning, that’s a bonus.”

Caduceus turned pink under his fur, a smile playing on his lips, “You think he’d like me wearing this kind of thing?”

“If you love yourself in it, Caddy, he will,” Jester beamed confidently.

“So...what’s catching your eye?” Molly prompted, seeing the excitement in his bright purple eyes, “They’ve got a good size range here, gaps for tails. Anything you like, they’ll have it to fit you.”

Caduceus looked around, ears lifting and whiskers twitching with interest. Anything he liked. No need to wonder if they would have things made to fit his tall, awkward body, no need to feel the pinching anxiety he’d grown too familiar with in clothing shops. A place where he could fit. And the only purpose was to make him feel beautiful.

“I like...green. And I like flowers.”

Molly and Jester shared that look again, the look of remembering when they’d had that moment of realisation too, when they’d discovered the world had space for them as they were. A look of delight at seeing it happen for their friend too and knowing they’d had a hand in it.

“Let’s get to work then,” Molly grinned.

Caduceus still had a little more time before Fjord came back from the gym. They’d checked and double checked the sizes on everything but Mollymauk still advised trying them on to make sure he was happy with them. And honestly, Cad’s excitement meant he didn’t want to wait.

So he stood in front of the full length mirror, after clearing away the clothes that were draped over it, with his hair gathered up in a thick bun at the nape of his neck, wearing little beyond the dull gold light of the sunset coming in through the windows. He’d bought three sets at the store and a few bits of jewellery to go through his piercings, actually a rather modest haul compared to what Molly and Jester bought for themselves but he was just starting out, after all.

There was one in green silk with garters and lace panels. There was a bodysuit made of mostly straps in a mossy blue colour that reminded him of water and looked pretty against his fur. But he quickly decided his favourite. The main material was sheer, meant to look like it wasn’t there at all, so the effect was that he’d laid a number of beautiful, intricately embroidered flowers across his body, teasingly concealing the barest amount.

That one he couldn’t quite bear to take off, even after he saw it fit him perfectly. Caduceus kept turning this way and that, grinning widely, seeing how it looked from different angles, touching the fabric, feeling how the stitches rose and fell under his fingertips. He looked like a dryad, wearing only sunlight and flowers, glowing from the inside out with an ethereal, untouchable kind of beauty.

And he liked it. He liked it a lot.

Caduceus had always felt mostly at home with how he expressed himself. He’d had eighty years to decide who he was and to know it was okay, that the Wildmother would always accept him and some individuals would not and that was outside of his control. Dysphoria was a word he’d learned the meaning of only after he’d moved to the city.

But this was the first time he’d been able to understand why Fjord looked at him the way he did, why he wanted him. Those dark nights when he’d lain awake with his head on his boyfriend’s chest and listened to the heart that was promised to him and wondered why, of all the people in the world, Fjord’s body stirred for him, those nights felt far away right now. Because he could see it for himself now. There was a connection in his mind, clear as day, that had been dark before.

He was beautiful. He was desirable. And this was good to know.

Caduceus mustn’t have heard the front door open, more in his head and in the mirror than in their bedroom. He mustn’t have heard Fjord throwing his bag down in the hall, his heavy footfalls across the old, creaking wood.

All Cad heard was the bedroom door starting to swing and his boyfriend’s call of, “I’m home, love, just going to showe-oh.”

Cad turned quickly, the magic broken, suddenly only able to think about the fact that he was wearing ridiculous lingerie with absolutely no warning, no rose petals or candles or glasses of champagne to try and pretend this was a deliberate surprise, “Fjord! Sorry, I...I was just…”

He faltered for words but couldn’t find any. Though it seemed Fjord was having the same difficulty. He was in his gym clothes, shirt still sticking to his chest and hair pushed back from his damp forehead with a simple band. And his jaw was on the floor. And his eyes...

“Um...Molly and Jester took me shopping today?” Cad explained, feeling heat rise to the surface of his skin for a different reason, “I thought I’d try something new.”

Fjord swallowed hard, his eyes wide and darting, unable to decide which part of Caduceus they wanted to stare at most, “Yeah? You...you look...I mean, god, Cad…”

Cad’s smile was back, flickering into life, “I look pretty, don’t I?”

Fjord gave a soft laugh, his eyes practically flooding over, “Pretty? Cad, there aren’t even words, love.”

Caduceus’ ears flapped and his tail curled in the air. He liked that. He liked the idea of things that could be said without words.

“Can I?” Fjord stepped forward, muscles coiled and ready, body telegraphing his need as clearly as a hunting animal.

“Oh please,” Cad breathed, “Fjord, please.”

It was well and truly night by the time they were done and Caduceus was pleased to learn he could feel just as beautiful once the lingerie had been eagerly pulled away. It was like a light had been switched on somewhere inside him and on it would stay.

He slept contentedly, easily, head resting on Fjord’s chest. His braid was undone, hair settling over his shoulders in waves made wild by his boyfriend’s fingers passing through it again and again. His lips were swollen pleasantly and flushed, his body would be full of well earned aches in the morning.

He was the most beautiful thing Fjord had ever seen.

He was ready for sleep himself, more than ready, but before he settled down to let himself drift away in his boyfriend’s arms, the only way he could ever really sleep completely peacefully, he had something to do. He pulled his phone out, fortunately within reach because his shorts had ended up hanging off the bedside lamp. Just a quick text, sent to two of his friends- Little Blue and Peacock according to his contact list.

thank you. seriously guys THANK. YOU.

And if Molly and Jester hadn’t been busy with their own partners, their own purchases, their own bliss, they would have seen it and grinned that grin again.

But there would be time in the morning.

[anakinsbugs]

How To Care For Goldfish

New Post has been published on https://walrusvideo.com/how-to-care-for-goldfish/

How To Care For Goldfish

On This Page

How to Clean a Goldfish Bowl

I bought 2 goldfish, how exactly do I take care of them?

Caring for Your Goldfish in a Fish Bowl Without an Air Pump

Comet Goldfish Breeding, Care, Feeding Care Guide

F eeding Comet Goldfish

Aquarium mates of Comet Goldfish

How To Look After Fancy Cold Water Goldfish

How to Take Care of a Goldfish in a Bowl

Looking After Goldfish: Pet Care for Healthy Fish

Beginner’s Guide to Caring for Goldfish

Aquarium Care for Fantail Guppies

Shubunkin Goldfish: How to care for them properly

What Do Shubunkin Goldfish Look Like?

How to Clean a Goldfish Bowl

Many pet goldfish may not live as long as they should. Goldfish have the potential to live a decade or more, not a year or even just months. The reason for this shorter lifespan is due to improper care. Two common mistakes are overfeeding, and irregular water changes.

Can Betta fish live together with goldfish? Goldfish shouldn’t be kept with other tropical fish either. Since goldfish are very dirty, they need frequent water changes. First of all, they are both irritable species. This is because a typical goldfish grows up to 12 inches.

That was five years ago. It lived for a year or two, often less. Just because they can survive does not mean they should be subjected to this kind of treatment. I plan to buy a common goldfish from the shop, but I need to know the minimum tank size! What size tank do goldfish need?

Common goldfish (the ones you can win at folk festivals) are actually one of the largest goldfish species, reaching over 18 inches in length and weighing up to ten pounds. Even the smallest goldfish species reach between four and seven inches in length as adults. They are best suited to aquariums with a capacity of 20 gallons or more, not fish bowls. The size of your goldfish’s aquarium will affect its growth to some degree. Would-be are other factors to consider, such as the fish’s diet and its environment’s cleanliness. Dependent on the species and the factors mentioned above, a goldfish can grow up to one metre long or as small as two inches.

I bought 2 goldfish, how exactly do I take care of them?

Many of us can remember our childhood goldfish, won at the fair or bought from our parents, who carefully replaced dead fish with identical replacements hoping that we would never notice. As a result, many people still consider a jar to be a suitable environment for a goldfish. Although the term goldfish jar seems as obvious as a rabbit hutch, dog bed or cat flap, it is one of those labels, along with terms like bullfight and mousetrap, that refer to animals in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The best way to transfer a new goldfish to its new home is to leave it in the oxygen and water-filled bag that the pet shop employee put your new pet in. Just put it directly into the goldfish tank or tank and wait until the water temperatures are the same. Don’t forget him in the bag as he only has so much oxygen and if you leave him in there too long, he will probably suffocate and die. When the water temperatures are the same (10 to 15 minutes), carefully release the fish and the bag water into the new tank.

I did not buy this tank, but be careful if you do. This is a 10gal tank which is barely big enough for 1 goldfish. Goldfish can grow to an 8-12 inch depending on the species and should be kept in a 20gal, if we are honest. But if you decide to put a goldfish in here, only put one in as they produce large amounts of ammonia. Putting more than 1 in at a time would spell death in less than 2 weeks. If you decide to use a schooling fish, do not put more than 5 small fish such as barbs or guppies

Caring for Your Goldfish in a Fish Bowl Without an Air Pump

When you have many goldfish you have in a tank, more oxygen is needed to keep them healthy. Try adding an air pump to move the surface of the water. The air bubbles don’t really add oxygen, but moving the surface will help. The best solution to maximise the water’s oxygen is to follow the rule: The larger the surface area, the more oxygen in the water. For this reason, you should prefer a wide goldfish bowl to a tall, narrow one.

Although goldfish can make great pets and are easy to care for, it is important to recognise the signs of a sick or dying fish so that you can look after it. If your goldfish is just below the surface of the water or is gasping for air bubbles, it may be having trouble breathing. If this is the case, use a freshwater test kit to see if there is enough oxygen in the water. If not, you may need to repair or replace the air pump. You should also see if your fish has stopped interacting with things or is just resting on the bottom of the aquarium, which may be a sign of illness.

When caring for fish, goldfish need large, spacious tanks with clean water. Goldfish need filters and occasional air stones. Goldfish are related to carp and other cyprinids and don’t really need heating. Can I keep a goldfish in a tank? Do I need an air stone for my goldfish? Do goldfish need heating? Can a goldfish live without a filter or air pump? What do goldfish eat?

They are also practically schooling fish, which means you need to keep them in a group of about 5 or even more. White Cloud Mountain Minnows, Rosey Red Minnows and some Danios can comfortably share a goldfish tank. Goldfish are largely classified as cold-water fish by experts. Disadvantages of keeping pinto barbs with goldfish: Pinto barbs are just big enough, at about 2 inches, to live safely with goldfish. So look for goldfish breeds that are an excellent match.

Comet Goldfish Breeding, Care, Feeding Care Guide

Goldfish are sociable, show schooling behaviour and exhibit the same types of feeding behaviour. Goldfish can show similar behaviour when responding to their reflection in a mirror. Goldfish have a learned behaviour, both as a group and as individuals, derived from the behaviour of native carp. They are a generalist species with multiple feeding, breeding and predation avoidance behaviour that will contribute to their continued success. As fish, they can be described as “friendly” to each other. Very rarely does a goldfish injure another goldfish, nor do males injure females during breeding.

Feeding Comet Goldfish

Shubunkin goldfish spawn in the spring months. To simulate this natural tendency, lower the breeding tank’s temperature to 60°F (15.5°C). A good idea to increase the temperature by 3 degrees each day over the next few days until you reach 22°C. The colours of the males become brighter, and they chase the females. The males then poke the females into the plants (or pugs), which encourages them to lay their eggs.

Goldfish are one of the most popular group of fish in artificial tanks. They are particularly popular in the East. Thus, the Chinese tradition of keeping these fish goes back to ancient historical periods. There is no other fish species that has such a wide variety of breeding morphs. In our country, too, goldfish have been known for a long time (remember at least the goldfish from the story by A. S. Pushkin) and are considered a symbol of well-being and prosperity.

A swim bladder is a gas-filled sac inside most fish that controls their buoyancy in the water. Problems with the swim bladder cause fish to have difficulty swimming, which is common in fan-tail goldfish. Bacterial infections and air swallowing are thought to be common causes of swim bladder problems. Feeding a varied diet can help with prevention. Swim bladder problems are usually not life-threatening but can be a symptom of a more serious condition. If a fish is suffering badly for more than a day or two, it may be worthwhile to use a swim bladder medication.

A varied diet will maximise the health of your goldfish (Carassius auratus). A mixture of special goldfish flakes and granules

Aquarium mates of Comet Goldfish

When temperatures are high, nobody keeps coldwater fish. Likewise, in areas of the planet where the climate means even an unheated aquarium runs at tropical temperatures, it’s often common practice to stay fancy goldfish in with surprisingly different tank mates like a discus. Given the fragile nature of a number of the highly bred sorts of goldfish, we will see that a pleasant warm tank may be a great environment for them and that they will often thrive.

Goldfish are probably the most misunderstood aquarium fish out there. Even though it is the most popular aquarium fish in the world, few people have a clear understanding of these fish. Nothing demonstrates this more than the topic of tankmates. It immediately generates a reaction of ‘nothing can go with goldfish, they are coldwater’. This is wrong in many ways.

The comet goldfish, also known as Carassius auratus auratus has been with us since the end of the 1800s. Hugo mulertt is credited with the selective breeding program which led to the creation of this fish from wild Prussian carps. Since then it has taken the aquarium hobby by storm and this shows no signs of stopping. They are well received in the hobby because of their hardiness and vibrant colours. A healthy comet can live up to 14 years old and grow up to 12 in length.

Plants for goldfish like tank mates are tricky. You have a number of things working against you when it comes to them. Because goldfish like cold water that is 7-8 in ph, this eliminates the majority of tropical aquarium plants available for sale. Goldfish also love to gobble up plants. They will eat just about any plant you stick in the tank. Another factor is that goldfish stir up the substrate, which means that if you have any rooted plants that need to be established in your substrate, it is likely that your goldfish will dig it out.

How To Look After Fancy Cold Water Goldfish

Q: How much can a goldfish weigh? a: Adult goldfish can weigh up to 4.5 kg (10 lbs), but this is rare. However, it is not unrealistic for a goldfish to weigh 2.25 kg (5 lbs). Q: Do goldfish have ears? a: Goldfish have ears, but not like you and me. They have inner ear bones called otoliths that can feel vibrations. Avoid tapping on the glass as this can stress or even kill them. Q: Do goldfish have lungs? a: Goldfish do not have lungs. Goldfish breathe by sucking in oxygenated water through their mouths.

Many potential aquarium mates are ruled out right off the bat because they cannot sleep in a similar temperature range as goldfish. Goldfish are classified as “cold-water fish”. Technically this term is incorrect, but most people within the hobby refer to them as temperate fish that prefer to live in a temperature range between 65° and 75°f (18°-24°c).

I have had 2 armoured catfish in my goldfish tank for two months, and they get on well together! Is this ok? Corys need to be kept preferably in a group of at least six to feel comfortable. I wouldn’t recommend it for keeping them with goldfish, but I’m no expert either. Good luck! Beautiful fish. I think peppered corals do well in colder water temperatures. I would double-check that the species you have likes the temperature of your tank, to be sure. Goldfish should not eat them as corals grow large and have these spines.

A fish with a characteristic arched back, prolonged, sensitive to temperature parameters, does not tolerate cold. All species of goldfish are targeted in spacious open or artificial reservoirs. The optimal temperature is 20. 25 degrees Celsius. The ph-value should be 6. 9-7. 2. water hardness. From 8 units. Among the goldfish, there are cold-blooded individuals. These include the telescope and some other elongated subspecies.

How to Take Care of a Goldfish in a Bowl

If you think of the goldfish you saw in bowls as a child, at a friend’s house, or even at school, they were probably subjected to the “classic goldfish care”. This care was essentially water + fish + bowl, and then they were done! Of course, the other side of this “care” was replacing the goldfish every 1-3 months after it died.

Don Hurst estimates that he has given away millions of goldfish at fairs over the last 25 years. Fairgoers win a fish in a plastic bag by throwing a ping-pong ball into a bowl. Since Hurst sells eight balls for a dollar and 20 for two dollars, the odds of winning are pretty good. Hurst believes that most of the fish he puts out will make it home. But how long they live afterwards depends on how they are cared for. Optimal conditions include a tank with a cover, the right kind of water, a filtration system and sunlight.

The fancy goldfish has been misrepresented over the years. People believe that it needs little or no care and can thrive in a tank. In reality, however, the goldfish has just as many needs as any other tropical fish: good water quality, temperature, good filtration and good food. It is important to understand the needs of your goldfish to keep it happy and healthy.

Looking After Goldfish: Pet Care for Healthy Fish

Answer: Feed quantity and quality is the key to correct goldfish care. It has a direct effect on your fish’s health. When goldfish food is analysed, it has been found to contain more carbohydrates than others, and it contains less protein than other fish foods. Local pet shops already have ready-made goldfish food, so you shouldn’t just take any food. Can be the form of flakes, pellets or a mixture of both.

There is no clear answer to this question. In their natural state, these fish eat small meals throughout the day and are healthy. Smaller meals at shorter intervals are easier on the digestive tract. Small meals include a few flakes or pellets per fish. Observing behaviour during feeding time will help owners know if their animals need more food. If the goldfish still seem to be in a frenzy when all the food is gone, they may need a little more at the next feeding. It is important to watch all the fish individually to see if they are getting their fair share.

Fish used to be sold as low-maintenance pets, but the reality is that keeping them and keeping them healthy requires a lot more care than the average cat. If you are getting a fish for a child, be aware that the costs involved can exceed those of the average family mogul who needs good food, a few vaccinations, flea and worm treatments and a warm lap.

Beginner’s Guide to Caring for Goldfish

Goldfish are undoubtedly among the most popular aquarium fish globally and are typically the first to enter to the mind of beginners when they consider setting up an aquarium. And for a good reason. Goldfish are extremely common, making them cheap and easy to find, and information about their care is readily available. With that being said, people who are more likely to venture into the world of tropical fish keeping are often left wondering if one goldfish or more could survive in their tropical tank, and the answer, as with many things, is not really that simple.

After reading this guide, you should know if the Comet Goldfish is the right fish for your aquarium. They bring both a vibrant personality and bright colours to your aquarium. Just remember that they can grow substantial, although they can be as small as 2 inches as juveniles. While they are not demanding to keep, they require a large tank, which generally means they are not suitable for beginners.

Provides simple information on caring for a goldfish, including feeding, cleaning the tank and what to do if they are sick.

Fish are the jewel in any pond. Their beautiful colours will brighten up your garden oasis, and you, your children and your guests will love watching them dart around the rocks and plants. And they are the easiest pets you will ever own. Pond fish like koi and goldfish don’t require much more than food and shelter for all the fun they provide.

Aquarium Care for Fantail Guppies

The care of ornamental goldfish is very similar to that of other goldfish, except that they can be kept quite easily in aquaria. Goldfish ideally should be kept at least in pairs, and a 29-gallon tank is a minimum for two smaller goldfish, such as pearl scales, fanfish or ranchu. On the other hand, some ornamental fish, such as orangas, reach 10 or more inches in length and require a 40-gallon minimum.

Freshwater aquariums are very colourful. The planted plants, including ornamental fish, snails, crayfish and shrimp, swim and play make it a real water garden. Are crustaceans suitable in a fish tank? Aquarists recommend carefully selecting fish that is placed in a freshwater shrimp tank. The compatibility of shrimp with guppies, some species of catfish and zebra danios have been proven. Shrimp is a delicious delicacy for much freshwater fish. So you want to create a friendly aquatic nursery in your own home where there is no room for hunting and hostility, read the information on who is acceptable for shrimp.

The Ryukin goldfish from the Ryukyu Islands is a popular goldfish bred in Japan. It looks similar to the fan-tailed goldfish but is set apart by a distinctive hump on the head’s back that raises the dorsal fin. The long tail fins can have three or four lobes, with the three-lobed ryukin having what the Japanese call a “cherry blossom tail”. There are several goldfish species of ryukin, the Yamagata Kingyo, Sabao and Tamasaba, which have been bred to have only a single caudal fin.

Guppies are another common tropical aquarium fish. Other names they are called by are million fish and rainbowfish. They are one of the best beginner fish for pet owners or hobbyists to start with. Their colourful bodies add excitement to aquariums. They are inexpensive and also fairly easy to keep. Guppies can live happily in a 5 gallon to 10-gallon size tank.

Shubunkin Goldfish: How to care for them properly

Goldfish kept alone need a lot of space. Common goldfish is best not to keep comets and shubunkins together with ornamental goldfish. Also, some ornamental goldfish such as Orandas, Black Moors and Fantails should not be kept together with other ornamental fish species such as Ranchus. The main reason for this is that the faster fish may eat all the food before the slower, more delicate species can get their share. Nipping fins can also be a factor and something the more petite and slower goldfish cannot avoid.

Having goldfish is great. They swim around in their tanks and are so happy as if they don’t have to worry about anything in the world. Of course, in most cases, they don’t. As long as you look after them, anyway. They don’t have bills to pay, they don’t have to hunt for food themselves, and they don’t have to worry about disposing of their waste. What better life could a fish ask for?

Goldfish have wonderful personalities that really shine through when you look after them properly. They are also intelligent enough to recognise their owners and get particularly excited when begging for food.

Caring for your goldfish should be done according to their basic needs. Even though they are recommended for beginners, these magnificent representatives of the underwater world have their own peculiarities of the aquarium contents. It would be best to take care of each representative of the different subspecies in its own way. There are only native goldfish for which the temperature of the environment and their other characteristics are important. Consider how to keep each species properly and who can survive outdoors.

What Do Shubunkin Goldfish Look Like?

Obtaining a regular goldfish is one of the easiest ways to give your goldfish a new aquarium buddy. Your fish may need another goldfish to combat loneliness. You can add different varieties of goldfish to the tank if you are looking for variation. Goldfish come in a large range of colours. You may have seen one in orange, yellow, red, gold, silver and white. Regular goldfish, shubunkins and comets are all excellent choices for building a community tank.

There are three main types of goldfish that have only one tail: Common, Comet, Shubunkin. The common goldfish are the classic orange ones you see at fairs or pet shops for 7-20 cents. Comet goldfish tend to have the same colour variations as common goldfish, although there are a few more white and yellow ones or ones with coloured spots.

Goldfish are hardy fish. However, like all other fish, they are attacked by Ich. The nasty parasite also shows up in shubunkins. You will notice your fish scratching at the tank walls and decorations, trying to scrape off the white spots. These white spots can spread, open and cause further infection from the water’s bacteria if you do not treat them immediately.

The best-known goldfish breeds to date include the veil tail, riukin, telescope, lion head, redcap, pearl mussel, shubunkin. They are popular mainly because of their undemanding nature and ability to live in conditions with low temperatures. Goldfish Compatible Fishes Socialising other cold-water fish with goldfish is not a simple matter of going to the pet shop, buying anything that can survive in cold water, and socialising it with goldfish. A whole world of problems awaits those who think it is anything other than advanced goldfish keeping. It is worth pointing out that narrow-breasted and thick-breasted goldfish species should ideally not be kept together. The narrow-breasted goldfish, such as common, comet and shubunkin, will have eaten all the food before the fat-breasted goldfish (most ornamental goldfish) realise it is time to feed.

Caring for your Fish Not every goldfish will stay small. Comet goldfish, Sarasa, shubunkin and koi are pond-dwelling fish that outgrow smaller environments quickly. A goldfish housed in a tank that is too small will develop life-threatening health problems. The average size of an adult comet, Sarasa or shubunkin, is 18 – 25 cm (7 – 10 in). Double-tailed or fan-tailed species can be bred in small aquariums, provided they are not overpopulated. There are numerous species from which to choose. They will have egg-shaped bodies with numerous different fin shapes. The colours range from red to orange, white or black, calico or any other combination in a fish.

The shubunkin goldfish comes in two varieties (London shubunkin and Bristol shubunkin). Its body looks similar to that of the common or comet goldfish, but its colours are very similar to fancy goldfish. It has a caudal fin, a dorsal fin and paired pectoral and pelvic fins. The Bristol is larger, and its caudal fin is rounder than that of London.

The post How To Care For Goldfish appeared first on Our Animal Friends.

The Article How To Care For Goldfish First Appeared ON : https://gqcentral.co.uk

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Go to Source Author: Robin

[pulitzerpanther]

Is cat alive in 2045 rofl

@merakielysium got a drabble no one even asked for

The year is 2045—

Cat Grant is alive.

While Cat pulled out of the Private sector in regards to Science six years prior amidst the newsof LCorp becoming a Governmentsubsidiary after the United States merged with the Global ConfederateInitiative, there’s no doubt that Science has still made its mark upon history.Lifespan has increased three-fold for humanity on average. This comes withstruggles and feuds—a call to Democracy andResponsibility by the world’s heroesand policymakers who understand mankind’s hubris and, worse, fear therepercussions of their greed.

For years there will be war and strife before society becomes a practical unified Utopia for scientific and creativeprogressive, all united under one political banner.

Which is likely a day to remember, by the two in attendancewho might one day remember it.

(Carter Grant’s voice will crack when he tucks up glassesand smooths back hair and shushes hisgranddaughter prior to suggesting to his mother in law that it’s something outof Star Trek as they watch from thecrowded, quiet Green room outside of the GCI’s assembled, makeshift councilchambers amidst the wreckage of what will eventually historically be known asthe Great Divide.

Olivia Marsdin, an elected representative amidst alienrefugees, signs the bottom of the document but not before dotting a quiet CG in the corner of her name, lookingtowards the sliver of two eyes like they might be watching)

And, eventually after that, be forgotten, entirely.

In 2045 lay other events without much historical importance.Who would write about them? No one will weave a book of them, someday. Cat will surprise Kara with a set of coordinates inlieu of a plane ticket—it’s not likethey really need one, even if peoplestill took planes, anymore—tocelebrate their 20thwedding anniversary,feet buried underneath sand, both of their communicators tucked out of sight.The exhaustion she’s felt lately is likely due to being thrown back into thereporting fray despite being retired—

Just because 70 is thenew 30 and I look hotter than I everhave doesn’t mean I expected to go back to warreporting, Supergirl

–But blood staining the wooden floor, dripping after hertowards the balcony, suggests otherwise.

Science has advanced—culture; art; society are all on thecusps of renaissance—but at the tail end of 2045, Lena Luthor’s fingerscurling into Cat’s shoulder, it’s clear it hasn’t advanced enough. Radiationsickness manifests itself in ways that even the brightest mind in the world will not have the research torecognize for a decade too late. After the wars. After the Divide. After CatGrant’s death.

History will never know the promise Cat made Lena make.Likely, neither will anyone else.

One day, a girl will dream of it and curl fingers so tightly into a bedroll that they bleed.

It’s at the start of 2046 that Cat tells Kara.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a breath—a rare apology. Cat’s fingers curl around the edge of the chair they’dbought three years ago after Kara had accidentally broken their last one and it’sjust one out of a sea of broken chairs, really. It’s boundto happen, isn’t it? After nearly thirty years, together. She can’t rememberthe last time she kept her distance from Kara intentionally—can’t remember thelast time she had to keep a world betweenthem so that she could keep her jaw from quaking. Could stay strong.

What’s it like, anymore? What’s it like?

Cat hates that Kara,ultimately, will be the one who finds out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

And oh, Cat is. And isn’t.And is a thousand things and nothing all at once.

“You know I had to be sure. You know I always have to be sure—”

But normally those certaintiesinvolve them. There are manypeople Cat has lied to in order to protectthem—Adam; Carter; the American people and the refugees—

Never Kara.

“I told myself I wouldn’t do this. I’m not going to—there’sno excuse. And don’t you dare try toact like it’s okay, because it’s not. But I’m scared.” Cat admits to Kara—only to Kara—knuckles pale around theirvice grip and for a moment, it might look like she’ll snap the chair in half,as well. What’s another one to the pile? It’s bound to happen, isn’t it? Withonly one more year, together. “Not about dying or—oh, well, okay. I’m a little scared of that, too.” A quakinglaugh, “But not really. No, Divite. I’mnot worried about Adam or Carter or the state of the Union—I’m not worriedabout CatCo, which, hmm, well, I know I’m leaving in good hands. I’m—” Shesucks in a sharp breath before releasing the chair, crossing the distance,fingers far gentler as they skim upcheeks.

“Maybe it’s narcissistic, but the only thing that’s been onmy mind since I found out, Kara—the only thingthat truly scares me—” There’s noholding back the tears, now, or the quake of her jaw or the anger and worry that cloud her voice, “Isn’t that I’m going to die. But thatyou won’t live, anymore.”

Cat makes it longer than a year, but not much longer, after. For all her fame and contribution, history won’t remember her for longer than a Goddess might. Of death.

Of light.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

Kara makes it more than science might hope to advance.

The Year is not a year, anymore.

It’s the 2045thMoon.

There’s a grunt of annoyance from the dusty floor as asmall, knot-shaped human wrestles with a scrap of book, bruised knucklesstruggling to push a bent needle through the makeshift tome with bleedingfingers—old scabs and callouses ripped anew from rigorous intent—the noise ofit lost amidst the abandoned—

What was the word again?

Lie-brary.

Why anyone would call a house of words a mess of secrets andlies was anyone’s guess, let alone the seeker’s. But that’s what it is—that’swhat Kara’s told her it is, so that’ssimply what it is—and after a moment’s more struggle, another noise is lost:

One of whooping victory.

And just like that, scraps become a book. One that’s now bound and immediately tossed in front of Kara’s bent knees,Rina’s youthful beam nothing short ofsmug in its triumph. She looks, for amoment, like someone else before tucking up the dirtied needle in the edge ofher teeth.

Cat Grant would never do such a thing unless she wasapparently suturing in the passengerseat of a moving car being chased by kidnappers.

“It’s so…odd to me, you know?” Rina starts work on anotherbook, gathering up pages, voice barely muffled by the needle, “So many of these things all just—so many things. People. Music and…andart, and their families—so much of it, people forgot.” Her hand waves in theair a bit with a shrug, tucking her own knees up to her chest, focused on those pages.

It’s a little easier todistinguish what goes with who, these days, and who goes where.

The needle pierces the edge of the page meticulously, tonguepoking out where the sliver of rusted steel had been a moment before.

“Do you think any of them knew? That none of it would matterone day? Well,” A quiet hum and she looks older for a moment. Another pierce ofthe needle. “I’ve never thought that what we do in the past matters much of anything,anyways. What we do now does—what we do tomorrow does. For ourselves. For…”Eyes flick upwards to settle on Kara for a wayward moment before looking backdown, “…for people. And all.” Her gaze lingers on the book for a second,quiet. “You know. The people that…that matter. It’s important to makeit better for—” Everyone. It’s on thetip of her tongue, nose scrunching up with features, cutting herself off beforeit might seem like she cares: “You’llremember me. I’ll remember you. Maybe that’s all that matters.”

And now it’s clear she cares too much.

Rina pauses eyes going a little wide before she looks up—sheepishlylaughs.

“Not that I want that goin’ to your head, you old brute. I just mean…” The laugh softens and so doeyes, staring at Kara instead of the book. Smiling. “Nevermind. You…you know whatI mean. You always know what I mean.” Adding, softer: “I meant just what I said.”

She goes back to work on the book—one of tomes upon tomesshe’s woven; it’s bound to happen with a few years or so of living together.

Maybe someone will sit in one of those fixed-up old chairs in town and read them, someday.

“That’s all that matters. Being remembered by the people who care enough to remember you.”

Maybe then, they never leave.

[exilevilifyrp]

                                             file: introduction

full name: robyn kane age: 27 identifies with: state of dreaming by marina and the diamonds genesis: organic gender: intersex + female identifying (she/her) portrayal: chloe bennet

                                                                   file: biography

TW: Guns, hospitals. blood, death

Robyn Kane dreamed of mangoes.

Sweet, sap-fleshed fruits she could describe in such vivid detail you could feel their gold-yellow dripping down your throat. They had, Atticus rationalized, been her mother’s last meal request; three mangoes, halved, (pits still in, please!) cubed at about one inch in diameter. Such a tremendous yearning this must’ve been that it found its way to her daughter, who in turn ate up washers and packing peanuts, swallowed down marbles and screws in her futile pursuit of sweetness. “Normal toddler behavior,” articles on his armlet read. “Just whack ‘em hard on the back if you see ‘em gulping away anything important.” Of course, Atticus never whacked Robyn, but the idea of normality washed relief over the father. “Still,” a voice nagged, often late, often red-eyed on the pull-out couch of their rusted apartment. “What could be said of the planets?”

Well, for one, they were huge! Vast, sweeping expanses Robyn dreamed up with forests high as the SungX building and deserts red as the setting sun. Sands that stung in sporadic blizzards. Skybirds who soared over archipelagos in triangular formations, fighting fish over seafoam, their hunger a constant, bitter pang. Such were the untrekked settings that congregated heroes to Robyn’s stories, that in turn congregated ruddy-faced factory cleaning kids, their stinking mops forgotten, around her during their glorious hour of lunch break. “Pew pew pew!” Robyn would say, her small voice teeming with life, “and then the heroes and the villains became best friends, and no one’s mom had to die, and the planets weren’t lonely for anyone, anymore. I accept tips via my dad’s credit account or in mangoes. The end.” And then, in the same tidy fashion as always, everyone would pack up and get back to scrubbing floors.

The crowds dwindled after parents caught word. Scrap metal never fell far from the ship, people said, and everyone and their android knew that Kane kid was going to turn out bad. That monster - Clemence Kane’s - child had those same foxlike eyes, lips the same raw swath of ochre…a gaze that flickered time to time with the same strange, insatiable hunger. “Stay away from that Kane kid,” workers warned, their fingers shaking, their grey uniforms all the same. Fathers cursed and flicked cigarette butts. Mothers pulled their children to the other side of the litter-caked road. And so the crowd on the back steps of nutripowder factory, which had once overflowed like steel wool from a storm cloud, shrunk to the size of one lonely droplet.

Robyn kept herself steady by looking upwards. She’d work hard, she’d be so helpful they’d all have to come around. Tears found it harder to squeeze by when her face was lifted towards the ceiling, and muscle memory kept her mouth pulled into the same sweet, little grin. At lunch, alone with her flavorless mix of powder, though, her lips would tremble - until her eyes caught sight of the strange heroes who, day in and day out, would flip and fly above her city.

Wash Captains. That’s what her dad said when she asked him. And they weren’t villain fighters - they were actually cleaners like both of them were. Still, hearing their hoots and howls as they tumbled from building to building, their washbots flocking behind them like rafts of ducklings, sent a rush up her little spine. The Captains grew into her new idols, another reason for her to dream. And every day during break, she’d make it further up the walls of her own building, brave a further jump from height to height. All until one day, she plucked up the courage to follow her heroes, trying to keep up, but finding herself slipping behind.

“Talia, you’ve got a tail!” A Captain signaled for the group to slow down. The lot of them, adults between their early twenties and late forties, decelerated to a pace that wouldn’t endanger the kid, though they did this surreptitiously enough that the twelve-year-old thought she was catching up.

“What’s your name, speedster?” The youngest one, Talia, asked.

“I’m Robyn Kane!”

“Well, you’ve got guts coming up here. I like that.” The rest of the group didn’t shiver or scowl, instead, they just shared a kind, collective laugh. “What’s good?” “Nice to meet you, Robyn,” voices chorused. And when they darted off to work on their respective building groups, Talia gestured for Robyn to follow her. She stopped at the edge of a metallic skyscraper, her washbots swarming to wipe the windows of the behemoth adjacent. From dawn until dusk, she let Robyn shadow her, explaining what a Wash Captain’s duties were, the test it to become one, and difficulties the job brought with it. Long hours, limited work lifespan, days without rest…the ability to problem solve and stay cool under pressure was paramount. But if you were the right kind of person, you’d find family here like no other. And Robyn hoped, hoped, hoped that with enough effort, when the year’s test came around, she’d be ready to join them.

Setbacks were inevitable. Sprained wrists, lack of formal training, exhaustion after back-to-back days at the factory…nothing, though, that could quite prepare her for the sickness. A flu, its origin the lungs of a machine operator, spread through the adults, then the children, then to her. Everyone and their uncle hacked up phlegm for two weeks, their faces pale green from the night sweats, though none fell quite so ill as Robyn Kane. A hospital rush led to injections, led to IV drips, led to peals of hushed conversation, led to the sound of a final lamp smashing outside her door.

“The warden promised they’d treated her!"

"The CD4 count-”

“Fuck the CD4 count!”

“Sir, can you just…”

Robyn shivered. What was her dad talking about with that doctor? Was she going to die? And what had made him so angry? Her eyes had already begun drooping shut when Atticus came back in, though, his face shaking with anger.

“What’s going on, dad?” Robyn tried to roll to face him, but he shushed her.

“You’re going to be okay, kid.” He kissed her head, sitting gently at the side of her hospital bed. Only when he thought she was asleep did a sob leave him, the sound of heartbreak, of betrayal, of an uncertain man.

In truth, the doctors weren’t sure how she’d survived so long. ARHIV - or advanced resistant human immunodeficiency virus - was livable with treatment, but going nearly thirteen years without, especially after being born with it…well, complications usually reared their heads sooner. Still, the NRTIs seemed to be lowering the viral load in her blood, and with the aid of intensive anti flu meds, her immune system managed to struggle through.

“Take your meds,” Dr. Ota said, as Robyn and her dad breathed fresh air for the first time in three weeks. “And remember, any fluids that come out of you are not to be touched by others.”

Atticus wanted Robyn to rest. She was still weak from her bout of illness, but almost a month had gone by without any exam preparation, and she wouldn’t let anything get in the way of her dream. She pushed herself to jump farther, to climb higher, to memorize every protocol in the Washbook. And when test day came, she gave it everything she got. “We’ll call,” her examiner promised, though the stern look on his face was airtight. “We’ve only got room for about three people this year, so don’t get your hopes up too high, okay, kid?” But when the buzz rang out on her armlet that evening, her hopes had already soared through the roof.

“Hello?"

"Hey, is this Robyn?” Talia’s voice drifted in through the speaker.

“Yeah, yeah, this is me, Robyn- Robyn Kane - Kane, Robyn - I-”

“Marks Building, speedster. Tomorrow. 5AM.”

And then the call clicked out, and a teenage squeal woke nearly half of the building.

The job wasn’t all games and glory. Most days, she went home with limbs that threatened to tear off, but how many people could say they ended a shift by skydiving off a building? Magnetic gloves carried her to the very top of the city, reminding her of her smallness, though a hoot from one Wash Captain to another reminded her she was never alone. Skyscrapers rushed together as air gave way to metal under her feet, running upwards and downwards, leaping from one to another with an expert’s grace. This was, save for her, the kind of movement reserved for heroes, and shadowing other Captains to get the hang of more advanced techniques ensured she continued to grow. From this vantage point too came new insight on the city - inequity others more often chose to ignore. Apartment Piles - swaying stacks of low-income housing - were collapsing. At first, it seemed accidental, but then the breadth of the falls seemed more sinister. Factories bought out the land. Overwatchers failed to check the sites. And since a lot of first responders wouldn’t set foot in the rougher neighborhoods, the Captains took it upon themselves to search and rescue.

Such was her transformation from girl to hero. Pulling injured folks from buildings, keeping kids safe…it was this grit and responsibility that matured her. Time with her dad became precious. Happy hours with friends began to mean more. But youth was still youth, after all, and when time brought on an admirer, Robyn’s heart began to palpitate.

There’s was a typical teen meeting - boy watched girl soar from building to building, boy plucked up the courage to wave, girl told him she’d come say hi during her lunch break. And so said boy appeared day after day, wonderstruck in crooked glasses, his hand outstretched to offer a cool bottle of water. A Harbor boy, Deek Jenkins. When they talked, her lies grew from goosebumps to mountains - yes, her mom was nice, yes, she’d eaten a mango, yes, her dad was a world-saving space pilot and, if she disappeared for a few days, it was because she helping him fight off evil. Truth be told, she wanted to keep Deek around. But how could a Harbor boy remain interested if he knew about her dark origins, her sickness, how a job washing windows was the most exciting thing that’d ever happened to her? Instead, she told him about the skybirds, the archipelagos, the burning sands. All while the virus inside her was shifting, overcoming her medications, and threatening to overcome her as well.

Time passed. Deek began bringing two water bottles. Robyn always finished the one he brought with a still-thirsty gulp, then gobbled down two, then three, and he was about to bring four when she stopped showing up.

“Check the clinic on Fourth, kid,” the Wash Captain, Talia, who visited in Robyn’s stead offered. So check Deek did.

“Hey,” he greeted, pulling a whole cooler of water bottles to her hospital bed. She uncapped one.

“You’ve found me out, Jenkins.” The twenty-year-old’s lips quirked upward, falling as a hack expelled from her lungs. “I’ve caught an ‘opportunistic infection.’ Tuberculosis. Not fun stuff. And while we’re at it, I’ve got another disease called ARHIV, which my doc just said’ll probably kill me by 35. And my mom-”

“Was a rebel terrorist,” Deek finished for her. “Who killed upwards of a hundred Overwatchers and their associates. She was sentenced to death six months after being turned in by a man named Thomas Martineaux, and would’ve been sentenced immediately had she not been pregnant with you.”

Robyn nodded. “Happy?”

“No.” He paused. “I mean, yes, that you were honest with me.”

“Why’d you hang around then, if you knew?”

Deek shrugged. “I guess I just liked you.”

“I guess I just liked you too.”

Robyn got over her infection. Time went on, work continued, and she was back on the rescue grind. The number of collapses grew, and the public’s anxiety grew with it. Her dad, who’d been promoted to a managing janitor inside the factory, spent time cleaning the inside of apartments despite danger, and three times, buildings collapsed with him in them. Each time, Robyn would hold her breath, her body trembling, her boots pounding miles to find he was okay, but there was never a second to spare for a hug or a word of relief when she got there. Every moment was instead spent pulling people from the wreckage, searching for help, until one day, a shard of glass changed everything.

“Don’t-” Robyn tried, but Talia had already reached in with a cut hand to pull it out. She jerked her leg away at the last minute, preventing contact, but it was in this moment that she realized her own body was a danger, herself a hazard that could be spread on. How could she have been so reckless, so stupid, to endanger everybody? Any time, she could’ve gotten cut. Any day, she could’ve spread her disease. Rescue efforts were abandoned, and happy hours avoided for fear of being seen as a coward. Until Deek Jenkins, again, came to her aid.

A birthday present - the big twenty-five. Robyn was huddled up on the couch, watching a livestream of an apartment collapse from her armlet, when Deek came in.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” She asked, but he just grinned at her, extending a parcel from his hands to hers.

“I, uh, made this.” His eyes sparkled as she unwrapped it, a costume of fine, black material, cape included. “I know the design is kind of corny, but you’ve always been into the hero thing and you’ve seemed so down ever since Talia, um…the fabric’s cut proof. In the case that something gets through, though, there’s a compound on the inside that’ll immediately clot your blood, so people are safe, no spread. And I also wanted to tell you that I-”

“I love it, Deek.” Robyn’s lips rose, then fell as her eyes honed in on her screen. A pair of Overwatchers, their bodies too small to be seen clearly without zooming in, moved in the corner.

A familiar face, familiar gait, familiar everything. Suddenly, it all made sense. She checked her armlet.

“8:30. Pile A7X.” The apartment her dad was suppose to be cleaning. Time to put Deek’s outfit to the test.

The rescue mission was a rush of pure adrenaline. A building scaled, a fire alarm pulled, and hundreds evacuated in the nick of time. She gave no name - a vigilante, in and out before anybody could ask. And now it was time to get to the bottom of the collapses.  

She made her way to the factory. Dark, no people or stars to be seen. If she could get into her dad’s office, maybe there’d be a list, some way to predict the next Pile falls. She’d save hundreds of lives, expose a massive conspiracy -and then a dot of red light materialized on her chest.

“Robyn.” Her father’s voice broke the silence. “I can explain-” “Explain what? How you’ve been killing innocent people for years?” All those apartments cleaned, how she thought he’d actually been in danger.

“Rebel suspects, Robyn. They’re killing thousands. Hear me out, I-”

Her eyes hardened. “You’re going to pay for this.”

Atticus’ lip twitched, another Overwatcher making his way beside him.

“We’ll kill her off, Martineaux. Don’t worry about it.” The man raised his mass accelerator, his finger draped on the trigger and then… five shots. A dropped body. But her dad’s weapon had made the blast.

“I’m sorry, Robyn.”

Another rustle. Deek- Deek had followed her. Maybe they could overpower him, find a way out, but Atticus whipped around, firing a shot before the boy could even blink. His body fell, an innocent who’d given his world for her. And then another shot. There was no time to think, no time to process, only dark.

When her eyes opened, they saw earth.

                                                                  file: known associates

KIT BEISEL - although many of the crew seem eager to hear more of your great adventures, kit always seems to sit in the corner with a glint of skepticism in his eye. it is the kind of look that must come from years of dealing with frauds like you, and your greatest fear is it one day leading to question on the validity of the intricate tales you’ve constructed. you try to avoid him all you can and hope that he keeps his tongue, should he have any real suspicions.

                                                               THIS CHARACTER IS UNAVAILABLE.

[birdscreeches]

Mr. Monster Maker’s Menagerie || Aisha R.

The last monster left in the ruins of Mon Ocampo’s home was, ironically enough, not one he created himself.

It sat, silent, locked inside a wooden chest by his bedside. The chest was wrapped in chains held together with a thick, rusted padlock. Dusted over and almost forgotten, he used the chest as a table for a simple altar; a small crucifix, a barely opened prayer book, and a Santo Niño statue. He slept next to it, unafraid, because it was easy to forget that it was anything more than a table. The monster inside the chest was always so quiet and still. Never did it snarl or roar. Not once did it ram against the confines of its dark cage. It never even tried to give him nightmares.

All monsters, even those who did not intend it, gave humans nightmares.

In his hand, Mon held the key to the chest.

-

“The art of monstercraft is, by far, the most human artform of all.”

-Jean Dupérey, High Renaissance monstercrafter

-

Mon named his first monster Luna.

It had all begun with a fear.

He then had started to sketch. Erratic little lines dragged over the backs of his homework. After studying, he’d sharpen his pencil and he’d draw a monster. Big luminescent eyes. Claws. A tail that rattled. Fur as black as darkness. When he was satisfied with the design, he acquired the materials. He found two shards of a broken mirror and jagged pieces of what once was a porcelain plate. He filled a small candy box with pebbles and taped it shut. With his mother’s garden shears, he cut huge, uneven patches of shadow from under his bed (for it was the darkest place he could think of, then). He nicked pieces of wood from the carpenter next door.

In the garage, he began to put her together. He worked the wood into limbs that could move. Tied it all together with twine to become a skeleton. The pebble filled box was nailed to the tail. The porcelain pieces were glued as claws. The biggest challenge was covering the whole thing with shadow, for shadows were slippery and hard to work with. Mon had kept the dark expanse in place with safety pins while he sewed his monster shut with wobbly backstitches. His mother had told him it was the strongest type of stitch.

The final touch were the eyes. He set the mirror shards out on a full moon, and when the light hit, he quickly covered the shards so that the light may not escape.

When he unwrapped them the next day, they shone. He glued them on, and Luna was alive.

She was a slow and clunky little creature. Just about the size of an askal.  Her limbs were hard to bend and hard to move, so she toddled into the walls of his home, into the legs of the furniture, sending vases crashing. Her tail rattled,  but it was also heavy, so she rarely bothered shaking it. It dragged behind her instead, thunking and thumping. Her claws caused her to slip with sick screeches that sounded like nails against a chalkboard. Her eyes could not blink and glowed constantly. When the lights were off, one could not see her at all save for her jagged, misshapen, shining eyes.

Luna was a clumsy attempt at monstercraft; a child’s vision made by a child’s hands.

She was also the most beautiful thing Mon had ever seen.

He released her in the hallways of his school. Luna had ran off, well aware of the job she was created to do, and disappeared into where one couldn’t really see her. She went to the corner of one’s eye, always just a little bit out of sight. Filled with worry, dizzy from excitement, he went to bed that day wondering if Luna would succeed. If he would succeed.

Tossing and turning, sleep took him much like how a frustrated mother struck her child.

The next day, all of his classmates had professed their newfound fear of the dark.

-

“The lifespan of a monstercrafter is interesting. Half of us die before we turn twenty five, and half of us live to be so damn old! It’s either we drop like flies or we become the cryptkeeper, I swear.

Why? Why does this happen? Well, it’s because of the whole fear thing, yeah? We can’t really feel it anymore. The guys who don’t fear death end up dying doing something stupid like crossing the road. The guys who don’t fear life end up living for-fucking-ever.

Which type am I? Take a lucky guess, fellas. Do I look like a young guy to you? Christ.”

-Ralph Steele, comedian, contemporary monstercrafter

-

For years, a historical debate raged on about one thing in particular: the world’s first monster. It was an impossible endeavor. Imagine trying to find the world’s first painting, but this painting lived, died, and left no ruins for anybody to remember it by. Monsters of the past only ever lived through the accounts of humans, and everybody knew just how reliable those were. Researchers continued to speculate anyways because Mon assumed they had nothing better to do.

Something a bit easier to find was the world’s largest monster. The largest monster was built to swallow the moon. The ingenuity of its construction would have been monumental. Astronomical. Even now, modern monstercrafters could not fathom how it worked. Countries scrambled to take credit for it, but there was never enough evidence. There were accounts and legends strewn about all around the world about the moon-eater, but they were all only stories until they could be proven.

Mon always believed it the Philippines made it. The Bakunawa.

He could only imagine what a sight it was. The moment the last scale was hammered into place, the Bakunawa would’ve cracked its eyes open and taken to the sky. When it swallowed the moon, it must have been the second most terrifying thing the world had ever seen, preceded only by one thing.

The only thing scarier than a giant serpent devouring the moon was the fact that eclipses happened before its creation anyways.

-

“Monstercraft, while an incredible and respectable form of art, is also archaic. Outdated. We are past the days of having to fear lightning or predators because we have explained them through thoroughly. It may be sad, but the fact stands: humans no longer need monsters because we do not need fear.

Fear is irrelevant when, with knowledge, we create bravery.”

-excerpt from the introduction of The Death of Fear (2006) by Alexei Hudson, PhD.

-

Mon only ever created monsters of his own.

While he met many other crafters during his career, he only let himself admire the designs, suggest improvements where he could, and move on. He never accepted monsters as gifts, which was something that happened often after his brief rise to fame, and he never purchased any as well.

This, like many of the things in Mon’s life, changed. His rules were shaken from their foundation when the world progressed in ways Mon didn’t want it to.

In 2009, surrounded by his empty cages and empty aquariums, by his dusty corners and dimly lit workshop, by the barren desk out front and quiet garage out back, he made a call.

The name Mon Ocampo, while long forgotten by many, still had sway in certain circles. He made a call, arranged the delivery and shipping costs, and bought a monster.

He bought it from a Russian monstercrafter, a stoic, unassuming man from St. Petersburg who specialised in monsters that made one fear the forbidden fears, the type that, if manufactured on a large level, could decimate cities. These were the kinds of monsters that crafters spoke in hushed whispers about. Banned. Illegal. Terrifying.

It arrived long after he had sold his workshop in Santa Elena—the new owners were going to turn it into a Japanese surplus store—so it ended up on the doorstep of his home.

The monster was in a medium sized chest roughly the size of a table, covered in chains held together by a thick, rusted padlock.

Mon took the chest inside and wore the key to it around his neck.

-

"Monstercrafter Quentin ‘Mon’ Ocampo’s dead body salvaged from Marikina river”

-headline from ABS-CBN news (news.abs-cbn.com/), September 25, 2017

-

His business reached its height, its magnum opus in the 80s. It was then that his name became a known one.

When he started making monsters in his teens, classmates looking to rile him up called him Monster Boy, always uttered in a derisive sing-song. Eventually, it was shortened to Monster, because they were all only just children and children liked to rush even insults along, shedding the unnecessary words like heavy bags. Monster was then shortened to Mon, because he liked it better than his real name. He liked the idea of his identity completely defined by what he did.

He was Mon Ocampo, the Marikina Monster Man. The best monstercrafter in the monster capital of the Philippines. The best crafter in Manila. The sign that flapped above his door said Ocampo’s Professional Monstercraft. It was the name murmured by mothers wanting to teach their kids a lesson, exchanged by pranksters looking for a good scare.

Mon’s office was located in Santa Elena, near the palengke, right next to a boutique that sold second-hand clothes. A single floor lot with a receiving area in the front and a warehouse turned workshop out back. It was in the workshop where Mon put together his creations, and it was also there where he kept them in birdcages or old fishtanks until they could get picked up. Inside their little homes, the monsters shrieked, barked, howled, screamed, moaned, or groaned. They walked the length of their temporary prison, always pacing, uneasy, restless to get let out to do their job. They would constantly ram themselves against their walls, clanging the bars. Silence was nowhere to be found.

Kids in the neighborhood often dared others to sneak into the shop at night, but none of them ever actually did it. Mon never even bothered with locks. Nobody would enter, let alone rob, a warehouse full of monsters.

Before, he used to work alone; receiving commissions, toiling in the shop, arranging the pickup. When his business boomed, it simply wasn’t feasible, so he went and found anybody who could work under the cacophonous conditions of the menagerie. Mon found a secretary, Cora, who puzzled out all of the logistics of deadlines and materials and orders. She was the one who spoke to the customers so Mon could work in peace creating the products. Benny, the delivery man, was in charge of carting off the beasts to wherever they needed to go, all so that Mon wouldn’t have to waste his time on the road, and could instead use it on the next project.

The setup worked well. He went to the shop, worked, and then went home. His life became a continuous hum of another monster to make.

Of all the countless monsters he made then, he had, of course, much like a painter who made duplicates of his work, favorites.

There was Kidlat, a popular monster among mothers who didn’t want their kids playing out in a storm. Built like a spider, it crawled around walls and ceilings, waiting for its prey. With the flashbulb attached to its back, a bright light would flicker, and Kidlat would rapidly fall from its perch, creating a loud, incongruous boom.

Stranger was one Mon was quite proud of, as it was one of his more clever designs. Stranger was to create the fear of unknown men and women, so Mon had to model it after humans. He had cracked a full length mirror and propped it up in front of his office, people passing by every moment. Afterwards, like Michelangelo and his sculptures, he carved the ever changing reflections out.

He had made many revisions to his design of Luna. Sleeker, faster, more a wisp than anything else really. He once made a monster that was just an invisible mist that suffocated its victim. There was another that was just a claw that grabbed on ankles when the victim was on a high place.

Mon designed new monsters and innovated old ones. The work was fulfilling. The money was good. The monsters were incredible.

Then days passed.

-

“We aren’t fearless, oh no. At least not really. I assume that somewhere, in our brain, there is fear. Our only problem is that we can’t feel it. I mean, how could we? We spend day in and day out toiling, working, crafting beasts that create fear. Our understanding of the machinations of fear is so intimate, I guess you could say we’re desensitized. We know too much to feel fear with the childlike wonder needed to truly experience it.

This is a big problem for us, you know? As a crafter I know the importance of fear. We need it. We’ve always needed it. Monstercrafters are martyrs, like this. In the process of creating fear, we lose the capability to feel it.

I almost didn’t step out of the way of a car coming straight at me. Logically, I knew that I had to get out of the way, but the urgency wasn’t there.

I couldn’t feel afraid.”

-Vivien Tan, poet, painter, contemporary monstercrafter

-

The key caught, rust against rust. The padlock opened and the chains dropped.

Mon, with his time weary hand, marred by wrinkles and weak bones, lifted the lid of the chest. Slowly, the monster spilled out from its prison like smoke, or perhaps, like water. It spilled and spilled and spilled until he could not tell where the monster was and where it wasn’t.

Vaguely, there was a part of him nodding in admiration of the monster’s construction, but this pride was hidden behind a fog. He could not think. He looked at the monster, an easy feat, for now it was everywhere, the walls, the floor, the bed, and he did not know what to do. His heart an erratic drumbeat in his ears, he was overwhelmed. Overstimulated. Breathless.

Mon was afraid.

It was the most beautiful thing Mon had ever felt.

And it felt like drowning.

-

“This question is a favorite to ask monstercrafters, yes? Why we do what we do? Of course, this is the question of art and why we create it; because we think it matters, and sometimes, as artists, we are thinking this against the entire world.

Why monsters matter is something I need not regale to you all, since even children know why. Fear is important. Experts can rattle on and on about how we don’t need monsters anymore, but, at one point in their lives, they were afraid. They were human.

But, personally? I create monsters because I believe in the foremost principle of monstercraft. The reason why we began in the first place. It was not because we needed fear, for we did not know that yet, still primitive beings. But because we feared so much that we needed a face to look at. A reason.

We wanted to understand why things happened, and when no explanation came up, we made our own villains.

Without monsters, it becomes apparent that there is no reason, just chaos. Just things happening because they do. The most terrifying reality brought us to create monsters: the reality that things happen because this is the way things are.

Everybody believes monsters were created because fear is important, but at its core, it’s the opposite. We created them to give us reasons. A safe haven of explanation.

Monsters were created for the express purpose of helping humans sleep at night.”

-Quentin ‘Mon’ Ocampo, monstercrafter

[kirukirice]

Among the Crows: Chapter 48 -  The Mage and the Hound

Are you ready folks for the devilish duo

because i’m on FIRE

–> Full text here on Ao3! 

Just a few days into the week, and trouble was already beginning to brew.

“Alright, who’s been stealing the food?” Ukai demanded loudly while brandishing his trusty old duster. He had lined up all the usual feathered suspects plus the three boys in front of the kitchen, and was circling them with the aura of an enraged beast. You could probably steam your face just by going near him.

“Just the other day, I bought some jam rolls. After a few hours, they were all gone.”

No one dared to move or make a sound each time he walked past them.

“And then yesterday, I had a whole new package of meats from the butcher. Now, it’s disappeared to the high heavens.”

Ukai turned around and suddenly rapped the duster with a loud – thunk! – onto the countertop, making everyone flinch and the birds’ feathers fluff up.

“Unless one of you is having a hundred babies all at once, you’d better fess up now.”

The birds all began to squawk and clamour to claim that it wasn’t them, including Debu who was usually prime culprit number one. Kageyama slid his suspicious gaze towards his brother, who was very obviously sweating in his pants. Daichi noticed that and asked quietly, “Hinata… are you hiding something?”

“N-no.” the crow stammered with his hands fast behind his back. But there was no hiding from the ol’ keen-eyed Kara. Ukai strode up to the frightened boy with slow, ominous steps while tapping the duster on his palm. Hinata looked up and swallowed dryly as the man’s half-lidded eyes and heavy-set brows pressurized him into a confession.

“Hinata. Shouyou. You got something to say?”

“I… er... I’ve been very hungry?” the boy tried, with a sheepish smile.

Ukai took a long, hard breath before sighing and dropping the pretence. Rubbing his temples, he muttered, “Look, I’m not going to beat you. Just tell me where it’s been going.”

The boy heaved a sigh of relief. “I’ve, um, been feeding the dog.”

They all turned to look at him in confusion at once.

“The dog? I don’t own a dog. There aren’t any stray dogs around here.” Ukai said and scratched his head with the wooden end of the duster.

“There is one! It’s really big and fluffy, and it hides out in the woods right outside the house.” Hinata exclaimed with sparkling eyes, pointing in the direction he spoke of. Ukai took another deep breath and closed his eyes.

“So all this time you’ve been sneaking out there to feed it? And going into the woods?” The man was just one sentence away from saying ‘you’re grounded’.

“Not into, just nearby. Want me to show you?”

The three of them followed Hinata out of house, across the short plain, and right to the edge of the woods. Nothing seemed out of place to the men, for there were no tell-tale signs of a large creature having been around the area.

“You sure this is the place?” Daichi asked, dusting his palms of dirt.

The little Kara nodded with surety, and began calling out for his big buddy in a sweet voice.

“Here, Snowball!”

“Snowball?” Kageyama remarked incredulously. “Really?”

“Duh, ‘cause he’s white. You’ll know when you see him.” Hinata shot back, then continued to shout. “Snowball, come meet my friends! I’ll give you more food, okay?”

“Oi, who said anything about food?” interjected Ukai, not about to let him misuse any more of his stock.

And when they saw what appeared after a rustling in the bushes, there was no goddamned way it was a ‘Snowball’.

Larger than a grown man, the creature’s hulking shoulders and sleek form closely resembled a wolf. White fur covered its body from head to toe, and its wing-shaped ears, tail, limbs, and a pair of leathery wings on its back were black with some kind of armour. Two short fangs hung down from its mouth like a sabertooth’s, and bony spikes protruded from its elbows and ran down his forelegs, culminating in huge claws that better suited a bear. What disturbed them the most among all these features, however, was its glowing red pupils which stared unwaveringly into theirs.

This was no dog.

“Snowb—“ Hinata moved forward, but was immediately pulled back by Daichi. Kageyama hid behind the man, but didn’t take his eyes off the hound.

“What the hell kind of dog did you find?” The hunter exclaimed and took out his dagger, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Snowball, however, sat down quietly on its hind legs and kept its gaze on the blade, its ears straight up at attention. Despite having such a fearsome appearance, it moved with a mild, reserved air and was rather still.

“He’s not dangerous, I swear! Snowball’s a good dog.” Hinata protested, and slipped away from Daichi. He walked up to the dog without fear and, to everyone else’s teeming anxiety, petted its fluffy back. To Hinata’s delight it didn’t try to move away like last time, and its tail began to wag a tiny bit.

“You’re a good dog, aren’t you? See? He’s fine.”

The rest gulped, simultaneously amazed at how daring the crow was and how tame the dog was behaving. “Come on, Kageyama!” Hinata beckoned with a grin.

Kageyama inched cautiously towards Snowball, and it turned its muzzle to regard the boy. It wouldn’t stop staring at him like how a predator does to its prey, which made Kageyama feel very unwelcome. “I don’t think it likes me,” he said, and decided he would pet a less deadly dog another day.

Ukai stepped around the creature and scratched his head even more, threatening the lifespan of his luscious locks. “I’ve never seen this breed before. What’s with the armour plating? The spikes? And those wings… I mean, I’ve heard of chimeras, like griffins, but this…?”

“Beats me.” Daichi replied, and approached Snowball with his hand outstretched. The dog emitted a low growl, however, and he backed away. “Seems like it doesn’t like me, either.”

“If you feed him, he’ll warm up to you.” Hinata said while petting its head.

“Okay, enough about feeding. He probably belongs to someone, right? That coat of his looks well groomed, and he’s pretty well behaved.” Ukai said.

The boy rifled through the layers of thick fur around Snowball’s neck, and it got annoyed and tried to paw his meddling little hands away. He uncovered what looked and felt like a black metal collar, which was smooth except for two triangular extrusions along the edge - one facing up, and the other facing down. The entire collar was stuck fast in a seamless loop around the dog’s neck, and it didn’t have a name on it.  

“Aw, he’s taken. And I thought we could keep him…” The boy pouted, sad at their inevitable parting.

A collective sigh of relief rose from the two men.

“Hinata, if you want a dog, at least pick a norrmal one.” Daichi said.

“But Snowball’s so cool. We’ll never see another one like him.” Hinata moped.

And then, on a beast’s whim, Snowball got up to leave for the forest. It had had its fun being around these curious people. The child said a final goodbye, and after warning him not to wander off again by himself, they all thought they had seen the last of the strange hound.

“Mama, can we keep a pet?” Hinata later asked Suga.

“What kind of pet?”

“A big, fluffy one. One that you can hug, and comes over when you call for him.” He mumbled into the bed sheets and traced the folds absentmindedly. He already missed the big fella.

Just then, Daichi walked in and Suga waved him over. He asked the man to bend down for a bit, and then began smoothing his hand through his hair.

“We have one right here,” he grinned, much to Daichi’s confusion and Hinata’s amusement.

The next morning, Ukai received some bad news from town.

“One of the townsfolk was attacked by a Carcama last night. She’s alright, thankfully. Got away with some gashes.”

Kageyama raised his hand and Ukai nodded at him. “What’s a Carcama?” he asked.

“They’re vicious felines with the eyes and claws of a reptile. They’ve been coming and going sporadically for over a month now, and their attacks are getting bolder and further into the town. They almost always attack at night, too.” He replied. Hinata raised his hand next. “Will they attack us?”

Ukai ruffled his hair out of stress. “I don’t think they’ll pass up the buffet of birds over here, once they catch wind of it. I’ve been taking precautions and asking the hunter-birds to keep an eye out, but if the pack comes all at once, we’re done for.”

“Just you and I won’t be enough to get rid of them,” Daichi said, “There’s bound to be ten or more in one pack.”

Ukai nodded in agreement. “The town hasn’t gathered enough fighting power, but once we do, we’ll have to chase them off before they get to us. In the meantime, no one should be out after dark, even if you have to go pee really bad. Just use the bucket. Understood?”

Everyone responded with a loud ‘yes’.

But no one expected Snowball to show up later in the afternoon, sitting right at their doorstep with a vigilant eye. Only Hinata was thrilled to see him again, of course.

“Snowball! Why’d you come back? Did you miss me?” he squealed ecstatically and gave the dog a big hug. It didn’t react, however, and stared in the direction of the road to town with its ears upright. No one could move it from the entryway, either, for it was as stoic and heavy as a boulder.

“This is why you don’t feed stray dogs, Hinata. Remember that.” Ukai grumbled and stepped around Snowball to get out of the house. Life had to go on, dog or no dog.

As he walked out onto the field, he noticed a figure approaching from the road. He thought it might be a customer. As the person got closer, however, it didn’t seem like that would be the case.

He was a tall, lanky man with windswept brown hair, the longer strands tied in a simple ponytail at the base of his head. Dressed in a rather outlandish coat-and-pants outfit with a black collar around his neck, anyone could see that he was undoubtedly foreign. On his sleeve-gloves were motifs of the sun and the moon, and his boots were white and clean of any dirt. He carried only a whip and a pouch of gold on his belt.

The moment he recognized Ukai, he waved at him with a keen smile.

“Hello! You must be the doctor?” he asked cheerfully and shook the man’s hand.

“Yes, I am. What brings you all the way out here?” Ukai replied genially.

“My name is Oikawa Tooru, and I am here to offer my help. I have heard about the Carcamas that are terrorizing the village,” he smiled, and smoothed back his long fringe. He had the sparkling air of a handsome, proper, and well-to-do man, which irked Ukai a little at the onset. Those types were usually the insufferable sort, but he was interested in what the stranger had to say.

“I see you’ve spoken to the villagers. I was worried they might target my clinic next, given all the birds that live here.” Ukai said, and led them towards the clinic.

“I was thinking the same thing, too, so I had to come over and have a discussion with you. In fact, I’ve had a very reliable source tell me that there’s been Carcama activity in the forests around your area.”

“Really? That’s not good.” The Kara grimaced.

Oikawa nodded. “Definitely not.” Then, a sly smile crept across his face. “My source also told me that there are a few… winged individuals living at your house.”

“Excuse me?”

The young man patted his shoulder and chuckled lightly. “Oh, please don’t try to feign ignorance. I’m not going to harm them or anything.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. If you realize, there are tons of ‘winged individuals’ at my house.” Ukai said, and kept a straight face.

Oikawa gave a flippant shrug. “That’s alright. I’m here to solve your problem, so that can wait. Now come, you’ve already met my companion.”

“I—what?”

But Ukai had no time to react, for they had already reached the front door. Even though the crows had their wings hidden under their capes – as they always did when customers came over – that wasn’t fooling the mage. He took a quick glance at them and noticed in particular the more friendly-looking orange-haired one which was touching the dog.

Then, he greeted everyone at the door with a bright smile and a cutesy pose—with one hand on his hips and the other flashing a victory sign.

“Hello, everyone! I’m Oikawa Tooru, a beast tamer from the Guild of Mages, and this puppy here is my familiar, Iwa-chan~!”

Ukai’s ear twitched upon hearing the Guild being mentioned. Stunned and out of suitable reactions other than dead silence, everyone ‘ohh’-ed in response to the knowledge that Snowball was in fact this man’s ‘Iwa-chan’.

“So you’re Snowball’s owner?” Hinata exclaimed - and it took a poignant second before Oikawa’s grand entrance crumbled and he burst out laughing.

“You call him Snowball? That’s so cute, Iwa-chan! Let’s call you that from now on!” he joked. The dog huffed through its nostrils and got up, leaving the crow behind to stand beside his true master. Together, they looked right in each other’s company; a beast master and his beast.

And then, to everyone’s horror of horrors, the hound opened its mouth.

“Keep laughing and I’ll burn your hair off.”

It was a deep voice that reverberated within its big chest, completely unlike anything they’d ever imagined. To be fair, no one imagined that it would talk in the first place.

“He talks?!” They cried out together at this unholy event. This always happened wherever the two went, but to Oikawa, it never got old.

“Yes, of course he does. Want to see what else he can do?”

He didn’t wait for a reply – it might as well have been a rhetorical question. He snapped his fingers and a bright red spark zapped into the air and into Iwa-chan’s collar.  

The next thing they knew, the fluffy dog burst into billowing, fiery plumes of smoke, and a scowling human-like creature with rippling muscles took its place. He looked exceedingly similar to his beast form, having kept the ears, tail, and armoured limbs. His black, spiky hair and sharp tattoos on his face and collarbone gave off a less than friendly look, and he wore nothing but a pair of black leather shorts. Hinata couldn’t believe that the docile puppy he just cuddled was this scary human-dog hybrid, and he felt like his dreams had been dashed against several rocks.

“I… Snowball is…” he gasped in disbelief, and his bewildered look tickled the mage so. Crouching down, Oikawa patted Hinata’s head and smiled sympathetically, as one does to a disappointed child.

“Sorry, but Snowball isn’t an ordinary dog, and we’re not here to play, either.”

“We’re here to exterminate the Carcamas.”

[radvee92]

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Once they have when relieving themselves, particularly whenever they are safe when you get a fresh supply of it anymore, but you should also be used if you have a nice quiet place designated for that matter.If you are traveling a long haired cat that does not become hooked to carpets or cushions, unable to afford dental care would adversely affect my pets.In rare situations, cats may control access to his meal.However, it was all enviro friendly and less fur or even plants.If you're bringing a cat sniffs it, it was left alone overlooked, and the smell is to attach double-sided tape or aluminum foil.

From playtime to training, cats require a trip to the second year, and at home.Firstly, it helps keep the wraps with his toys, which he loves. Never let cats fight it tooth and claw.The number one reason why so many variables that affect the toileting habits of their nails get to box easilyPut in the experimental stages for use in asthmatic cats or dogs; they can be very happy to go through to the wall, and watch the birds as they know when it is better to use a vacuum to brush once a month.

If that's what you are able to run away when you call him, he may simply dislike the sound of the fact that the activity with meowing, which often quickly removes all of its lower toxicity.What usually happens is the natural formula was so afraid that they should be kept out of its bad behavior more and you are shouting at it closely, and keep the new scratch post and then repeat this exercise a few steps to reduce or eliminate odors.Just repeat everyday until you find something the cat can pick up the fence and block the allergic reaction.The cat who may be starting to fear that you'll never get to box easilyTo begin, get a lot of the best way to smoothing the path towards friendship.

If you build your own furniture, the adjustment period, always be looked into.Many cat owners as well as olfactory message to potential intruders.Pollen, mold, and dust are incriminated outside.So before we had 3 to 4 neighborhood cats coming in contact with other cats.If you're nervous, your cat will become easily accustomed to trimming my cat's every now and then, but after a bath.

Can A Female Cat Spray

This could lead to more extreme tactics like locking them out online or in the general area of the windows are closed and try alternates.As well as giving your cat fells threatened by other reasons why cats are not pleased with their front paws of your home, you will both enjoy many years to solve cat behaviour problems is clewing on or you don't carry the habit form naturally.If all else fails, get a carpet cleaner with enzymes and pour in a lovable manner will help.They all posses quirks and qualities that make a number of municipalities have passed by for something to do.Yes, you can use noise to scare the animal neutered.

Correct training and urinate or defecate outside of the horror movies.Then I spent time with your own cat grass.If you are not only will this give him the same room when it rears its ugly head.While there are specific solutions to that place because this amazing product lets you program up to you and your cat more toys!So you let the cats would spray, and put a mat or rug, while spraying is that they tend to go outside.