#mammoth jack

[fictionadventurer]

August: Day 8

Adventures

Went to a thrift store and the library's used bookshop.

Bought a copy of Around the World in 80 Days that looks more readable than my current copy (so long as it's not an abridged children's edition). May make a new cover for it.

Bought a book about the basics of astronomy. If I'm going to write about an astronomer, I need to know a tiny bit, and this looks like it's written for idiots with short attention spans, so it'll be great for me.

Bought the coolest pop-up book I've ever seen. For a quarter. I'll have to show you guys pictures.

Treated myself to Youtube videos about Victorian literature. Indulged in a few Gutenberg downloads. Read the first chapter of Lady Audley's Secret and this may derail all my reading plans until I finish.

Accomplishments

Read a few chapters of Heretics. Am now halfway done.

Tire. Twice.

Signed up for a CPR refresher course

[imperatorrrrr]

nearly fell down the stairs racing over to ask about your WIPs!!! as you know. I'm v intrigued about the ocean's 11 au or your emma au and will sit here kicking my feet waiting patiently to hear about it 😇 (or, if you've already talked about those WIPs - literally ANYTHING else on your list ehe)

I feel like I've already talked your ear off about both of these, but lets do the Emma!AU

Jack will be our good intentioned matchmaker

this is a modern re-telling of Emma with all the players still remaining hockey players

Jack wanting to see all of his friends and family happy and being the world's worst matchmaker and learning things about himself along the way that lead him straight to Nico being the love of his life

Jack thinking love is friendship (because he's thinking about Nico but he doesn't know he's thinking about Nico) and deciding that Cole and Trevor should be together because they're best friends but is thrown for a loop when Trevor wants to be with the quiet Jamie and Cole wants to be with his captain Nick Suzuki.

and it all throws Jack for a loop because Trevor's so loud and rambunctious and Jamie's so quiet and he's pacing around in Nico's apartment telling him all this and Nico's like well sometimes opposites attract sometimes you need someone that'll store all that energy for you and then Jack's thinking about Cole wanting to be with his captain and he's confused because they're teammates tho isn't that weird, wouldn't that be hard. and Nico's very calmly telling him that sometimes the chemistry on the ice translates to chemistry off the ice

and then there's some Quinn and Roman Josi because I gotta I absolutely gotta

and, of course, we need the Mr. Elton type that throws a wrench into the NicoJack of it all and kind of catches Jack's fancy for a bit and makes Nico sad and run away to Switzerland at the end of the season after losing in one of the late rounds of the playoffs. I'm thinking maybe Ty Smith for the memories?

and this is when our MVP Luke comes in and does some meddling. I'm thinking that at this point in time every one of Jack's attempts at matchmaking his loved ones has failed spectacularly tho they've all ended up with someone they love and are happy and he misses Nico and he's coming to terms with the fact that every single thing he's learned and everything he knows about love leads him to Nico

and so he's got Nico on the brain and he's thinking about matching Luke up with someone (but Luke is already happily with Nemo but Jack doesn't know that yet) and Jack's waxing poetic about how Luke needs someone like Nico and Luke goes "well what about Nico" because he's a magnificent troll

and so Jack tries to matchmake his brother with his captain which will finally lead us to Jack getting something right and declaring his love for Nico

[neviagreatestart2003]

The Masked Singer Season 7 Characters!

List of Contestants/Celebrity.

1st: Firefly - Teyanna Taylor (Team Good)

2nd: Ringmaster - Hayley Orrantia (Team Good)

3rd: Prince - Cheyenne Jackson (Team Good)

4th: Queen Cobras - En Vogue (Team Bad)

5th: Space Bunny - Shaggy (Team Cuddly)

6th: Baby Mammoth - Kristie Alley (Team Cuddly)

7th: Jack in the Box - Rudy Giuliani (Team Bad)

8th: Miss Teddy - Jennifer Holiday (Team Cuddly)

9th: Armadillo - Duane Chapman (Dog The Bounty Hunter) (Team Good)

10th: Hydra - Penn & Teller (Team Bad)

11th: Lemur - Christie Brinkley (Team Cuddly)

12th: Thingamabob - Jordan Mailata (Team Cuddly)

13th: Cyclops - Jorge Garcia (Team Bad)

14th: Ram - Joe Buck (Team Bad)

15th: McTerrier - Duff Goldman (Team Good)

[baronessofmischief]

Because I think the Razor Crest was built more for bulk efficiency as a gun ship than it was built for speed (though it’s nothing to sneer at there), I think Mando’s ability to maneuver it is a large part of why and how he’s capable of doing so well in dog fights and running from the cops. It can take a hit and keep on moving, and Mando knows his ship well enough that he can make those split second calls and pilot how he needs to.

The N-1 is fast and responsive on the controls, but it’s got nothing in bulk or armor as far as defense is concerned, and it also has nothing by way of storage or cargo capabilities. Its defense is simply being fast enough to evade getting shot. Mando the character was designed to take a hit and keep moving forward, purposefully armored in a way that allows him to endure a fight— The Crest was designed to reflect its owner, the N-1 not so much

With that analysis in mind, I think it’s much more likely that cowboy!Mando’s Crest in an old west au is actually a mule, not a horse. The N-1 might be the fastest stallion alive, but it’s nothing compared to a mule that’s say, half mammoth Jack and half Belgian mare. I think the biggest horse on record, Brooklyn Supreme, was a Belgian if that gives you an idea of size and silhouette

Big, strong, smart, all-terrain half-draft horse that can endure a rough trail and hard work hauling outlaws is much more in line with what purpose it would serve his character. A mule has the best qualities of both animals, and it’s still going to be intimidating to come up against. Mando’s an endurance hunter, and he needs a steed that reflects and enables that

(Visual aid for said donkey and horse, respectively. ID in alt text)

[helmstone]

The Forsyte Saga being revived for PBS Masterpiece

The Forsyte Saga being revived for PBS Masterpiece

MASTERPIECE on PBS and Mammoth Screen have announced a major new reimagining of John Galsworthy’s Forsyte novels. Planned as a returning series, the first season of six episodes follows the lives of the wealthy Forsyte family in 1880s London and is based on Galsworthy’s Nobel Prize-winning tale of love, loyalty, ambition and betrayal. The Forsyte Saga reunites MASTERPIECE with British…

[chernobog13]

Mark Schultz’s pencils for a cover of Xenozoic Tales.

[gandalftheweeb]

catching up on one piece after like 7 years (wtf?). it's extremely rare that villains genuinely piss me off but this mammoth fuck in zou is making me violent

[horsefriends]

A Belgian Warmblood and a Belgian Draught (with the American type being a recognised third breed) are not the same breed at all. The warmblood is (as it suggests) a warmblood riding horse, most commonly used in jumping, but they are also seen in dressage, eventing, hunting and endurance.

(photo source)

I never made a post about draft horses. :T They are the gentle giants of the horse world, sometimes growing as large as 20 hands and over 2000 lbs. The tallest horse in the world is an American-type Belgian horse named Big Jake (I think???).

A very big (but good) boy!

Despite their size, draft horses are known for their quiet, even temperaments, which make them good work horses. They were originally bred to pull wagons and plows, and they still do that. The most famous draft horses are probably the Budweiser Clydesdales, i.e. the horses in those Superbowl commercials that make us cry every goddamn year.

Draft horses can be ridden, and they are often crossed with lighter breeds, such as Thoroughbreds and Quarter Horses, to create tall, sturdy-boned, quiet sport horses.

Such horses were a common sight during foxhunts, as “hotter” breeds, like Arabians and Thoroughbreds, tend to lose their minds a bit in the chaos of the hunt. Draft horses can also be crossed with Mammoth Jack donkeys to create draft mules, which are also used to pull plows for the Amish.

Mammoth Jack donkey:

Draft Mule:

There are a lot of draft breeds, some more common than others. Many of the common ones are easy to tell apart from the others, but they’re all large-boned and tall, except for the draft ponies, such as Halflingers and Norwegian Fjord horses.

The Belgian

There are two Belgian horses, one that’s popular in Europe and another that’s very common in the US.

This is the European-type “Brabant” Belgian, which tends to be very thick boned and roan in color.

This is the American-type Belgian, which is lighter-boned and always sorrel/palomino in color:

Here is a Brabant Belgian mare pulling some shit:

A lot of draft horses really do enjoy pulling stuff, as much as a horse CAN enjoy doing anything that’s not eating grass and farting. Horse pulls are a common sight in Middle America, often done using Belgian horses. Here’s one of a team pulling 9200 lbs. They pull for a very short period of time, often only a few seconds.

Next up is the Percheron, which has a similar body type to the Belgians but are always black or dapple. They can be slightly more spirited than Belgian horses, with some demonstrating high stepping action.

They are not to be confused with Friesians, who have much more “feathered” legs and feet (long hair around the lower legs) and are lighter-boned. Friesians also don’t come in dapple colors, like the horse at the top of this post.

Clydesdales

Clydesdales are recognizable because they are a) always bay colored and b) almost always have four white socks and a blaze on their faces. They also have much more feathering on their legs than Percherons or Belgians. Clydesdales are more common in parades and the like because they tend to be slightly lighter than Percheron and Belgians, and because of this, they’re more agile and “showy”. You probably would not want to plow with a Clydesdale. You could, but their feathering means their feet get dirty much easier than a Belgians might.

Shire Horse

Shires come in a variety of colors, usually black or bay, and they are probably the most “feathered” horses of the popular breeds. They’ve got lots of fur on their feet.

Gypsy Vanner Horses

Gypsy Vanner horses got their start pulling Roma wagons, but now they’re mostly used in fantasy photoshoots, and you can see why. They are beautiful horses, definitely not the type you’d want toiling in the muck. They are almost always paint colored, which distinguishes them from Shire horses.

These are the main, most popular and commonly seen full-sized draft breeds, at least in the US. However, there are also draft ponies, the most popular of which is the Halflinger, which resembles a shrunken Belgian horse. They are ALWAYS sorrel/palomino colored, but their frame can vary. Some Halflingers are lighter-boned and more suitable for riding. Others are thicker-boned and better for pulling.

The other unmistakable draft pony is the Norwegian Fjord, easily recognized by the black stripe in the center of its mane, like a reverse ice cream sandwich.

This can lead to some creative hair cuts

So there you go. That’s a somewhat comprehensive review of draft horse breeds. Here is a size comparison for funsies, with the average riding horse in the middle.

[ostrichartist]

"The KAISER"

Finally. I have finished.

I'm still working on his backstory so, yeah B/👍

Also first time to draw a gun and shhhittt, it sucks X^

(⁠ノ⁠ಥ⁠,⁠_⁠｣⁠ಥ⁠)⁠ノ⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Harem in Reverse

"You're soon to be 26, Your Royal Highness. You must put together your harem soon or risk being married off to whomever the regent chooses for you." You sigh, nodding in agreement. Choosing a direct husband would be against the rules, and frankly, you weren't interested in interviewing for the perfect man. Choosing many for their adherence to various qualities, though. That would be a good choice. "Shall I put forth a call for certain attributes? Strong arms? Large chest? Impressive intellect?"

"No, I want to review the troops this week. I will find my consorts among the best our nation has to offer." The advisor looks stunned.

"Your Royal Highness, those are rough men. They do not have the breeding or training to handle you gently as a consort should. They are-."

"Advisor Williams, I know what attributes I am looking for. Schedule me to review the best of the troops, then. If none catch my eye, then I will consider others." The advisor nods, frustrated at not being heeded, but knowing they must follow a direct order.

The following week, you are almost nervous while getting ready, the beginning of butterflies in your stomach. If you weren't so tired, you're sure it would be worse, but the night before was yet another attempt on your life. They are becoming more frequent and more violent now.

Sighing, you hurry to the courtyard where your mount, Rosebud, is waiting. A gift that you feel had been meant to be another threat on your life. The mount was no ordinary horse or pony. Instead, it was the largest draft mule you had ever seen. If you had treated him like a horse, you're sure the thing would have stomped within minutes. He was a vain creature who had to be sweet-talked and treated with utmost respect before he would agree to do much of anything. He was covered in whip and spur scars, telling anyone that he was difficult to force submission from, despite their best efforts. Not that you thought anyone could force an animal born of a mammoth jack donkey and a Shire horse to submit physically. You loved each and every scar, the signs of his stubborn nature on display for all to see.

"Hello, sweet boy." You greet him and let him snuffle you over, waving off the over eager stable hand. "May I ride you today? I am to inspect the troops." He blows a huff of air and turns his head away. You slide your hand along his proud neck and across his withers to the saddle. Checking it over, you deem it done well enough and climb on his back. Your legs spread wide across his broad barrel. Your advisors turn away, knowing that you will refuse their most strident pleas to ride sidesaddle.

"Let us inspect the troops." With that, the company is off at a quick walk to the parade grounds. Your group of advisors and the personal guard that you only marginally trust join the General and his entourage at the front of the formation. You strongly dislike the General. He is somehow the worst mix of ass kissing and condescending.

"The army is excited to be inspected this morning, Your Royal Highness." You barely manage to cover your snort. There is no way they are happy to be here standing in the sun to be inspected on your whim. You move from company to company, looking over the men and pointing out individuals to be inspected, but seeing none you would consider as consort. Reaching the special forces, the rabid dogs as your advisors refer to them, the General is incensed to see that the leader of one is missing.

"Where is the Captain? This is not an optional inspection!"

A man steps forward, "He was injured in a skirmish this week and is still confined to the hospital, General Argus." Looking over the group, you see several still sport bandages and healing abrasions. You nudge your mount closer, his ears perked forward in a match to your curiosity. The General apologizes to you for the disrespect of the men for not appearing but is cut off.

"Your Royal Highness. Escaping the hospital took longer than predicted. For that, I sincerely apologize." You turn, seeing a man limping toward the formation at a quick pace. This must be the Captain. As he falls in, you dismount your mule, resting your hand on his broad neck. Your personal guard hurriedly surrounds you, standing much too close. Rosebud takes exception to being crowded, ears flattening against his head. He strikes out like a snake. His teeth click just shy of the nearest man, who stumbles back yelling and unsheathes a sword. Without a thought, you draw your own ceremonial dagger.

"Touch one hair on Rosebud, and I will gut you." Everyone around you freezes before slowly backing away. "I will not be crowded by your incompetent forms when I am here to inspect the troops." They retreat from your anger, not wanting to risk you calling for their death. Rosebud drops his head, relaxing, and you absentmindedly rub his long ear the way he loves. His lip twitches and his eyes half close for a moment before he pulls away. You step forward, and Rosebud matches your pace, keeping his shoulder just behind yours. It took months to build up a relationship with him, and now he is putty in your hands most days.

An advisor tries to signal you to stay back, but you ignore them, your eyes on the men, looking for the best of them. You memorize the name of the Captain and another likely candidate, signaling Advisor Williams to your side. He groans but carefully walks to you, eyes locked on the increased alertness of Rosebud.

"I will have an audience with this Captain Price and Colonel König. As soon as the men are dismissed. In private." You walk forward and give a cursory inspection to the man who had spoken on the Captain's behalf. His uniform is impeccable, you are happy to see. You don't want them punished on your behalf. The smirk on his face beneath his mask sends a thrill through you. Another man who is not cowed by your station. That is important in advisors. Lieutenant Riley, his uniform says. You nod and mount Rosebud again, rejoining the pack of advisors to inspect the remaining troops. No others catch your eye.

Walking into your State room, you signal for everyone except the two soldiers to leave. While unusual, they are compelled to do so by your haughty glares and Advisor Williams guiding them away, barring the doors behind him and standing guard. Sitting in your throne, you drag your eyes over the men. Colonel König is wearing his customary face covering, and Captain Price has the cover he is well-known for in his hands.

"I have a proposal for you both that I want you to carefully consider. This proposal will not be spoken of again if you decline and it will not leave this room." The men perk up, and you see heat in their eyes as they consider one of the possibilities of your words. "I need advisors who are not advisors." That throws them off, and you see the Colonel shift uneasily. "These advisors would be the closest of any man or woman to me. They would teach and protect me with their very lives. My life is under threat and has been since the King and Queen died, my uncle taking over as Regent. I need advisors who will help me oust him and take my rightful place on the throne without contest and without raising his suspicions. Thus, I need men who will join my harem." You pause, savoring the way their faces change as they process this.

"Your Royal Highness, are you asking us to find you men to join your harem? That is most unusual, but we will do our best." You shake your head at Captain Price.

"Yes, but not in the way you are thinking. I am asking the two of you to join my harem and to advise me on the best men to round out such a harem. To be advisors and leaders in removing the despot from his fake throne. To be my lovers, spoiled in every way and to guard me from all attempts on my life. I want you both, and I trust you to choose others and to bring them to me for approval. If you decline this position, we shall never speak on it again."

"Yes, I would be honored to be chosen for your harem, Your Royal Highness." Colonel König does not hesitate to agree. He feels he has loved you from afar for years, and this is an opportunity he will not squander.

"I would be as well, Your Royal Highness." Captain Price is confident that declining now would be a mistake, and he is not a man prone to mistakes. "I have a few men in mind that would be good additions. They are a bit of a package deal." You nod, expecting as much.

"Their names?"

"John MacTavish, Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick, Your Royal Highness."

"I have two in mind that would be good choices as well. Hiro Watanabe and Kim Hong-jin. They are foreign, but good, loyal and strong men, Your Royal Highness."

The smile you bestow them with is almost a surprise to the men. "Then, I wish for you to gather your men and their belongings. You will join me tonight, my consorts."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness." The men bow and leave, stunned at the way this meeting has gone. You order Advisor Williams to prepare the harem quarters and pack your own belongings secretly. It would be folly to live apart from the men who will be your new private guard and you would be lying if you weren't excited to see under those perfectly done uniforms.

[loving-n0t-heyting]

Dr Tara Hipwood, an architect and academic at Northumbria University, explained to me that “buildings have gotten much, much bigger, and there’s a much chunkier kind of grain to the city now”. These “deep-plan” buildings forgo courtyards and wings for big floor plans with great distances between windows. This makes natural ventilation nearly impossible. These buildings, Hipwood says, “are built on the premise that they will be mechanically ventilated”. In other words, ventilation and air conditioning have led architects to design without thought for the thermal qualities and air circulation of their buildings.

Nowhere is this more evident than in the mammoth glass buildings that feature on the London skyline. Sometimes it seems like air conditioning is the easiest solution to overheating in what Joe Jack Williams, a partner at Feilden Clegg Bradley Studios, calls a “magic box”.

the ubiquity of air conditioning in developed countries may drain energy throughput and exacerbate heat islands, but otoh at least they have also enabled the proliferation of truly hideous and soul-deadening buildings

[robertreich]

How Amazon Is Ripping You Off

Shopping on Amazon? Stop! Watch this first.

Amazon is the world’s biggest online retailer. This one single juggernaut of a company is responsible for nearly 40% of all online sales in America. In an FTC lawsuit, they’re accused of using their mammoth size, and consumers’ dependence on them, to artificially jack up prices as high as possible, while prohibiting sellers on Amazon from charging lower prices anywhere else.

They’re accused of using a secret algorithm, codenamed "Project Nessie," to charge customers an estimated extra $1 billion dollars,

If this isn’t an abuse of power that hurts consumers, what is? So much for all of those “prime” deals you thought you were getting.

Project Nessie isn’t the only trick Amazon has been accused of using to exert its hulking dominance over the online retail industry — leading to higher prices for you.

Much of the FTC’s antitrust lawsuit centers around the treatment of independent merchants who sell items on Amazon’s online superstore — accounting for 60 percent of Amazon's sales.

Amazon allegedly uses strongarm tactics that force these sellers to keep their prices higher than they need to be. Like barring them from selling products for significantly less at other stores — or else risk being hidden in Amazon’s search results or having their sales stopped entirely.

And Amazon is accused of engaging in pay-to-play schemes and charging merchants excessive fees that end up costing you even more.

Independent sellers are effectively forced to pay Amazon to advertise their products prominently in search results. If they don’t fork over cash, then their products get buried underneath products of companies who do. This hurts sellers but also harms shoppers who have to parse through less relevant products that may be more expensive or lower quality.

And to be eligible for the coveted “Prime” badge on their items — which is considered crucial for competing on the platform — independent sellers are pushed into paying Amazon for additional services like warehousing and shipping, even if they could get those services cheaper elsewhere. If sellers forgo trying to qualify for Prime, their goods apparently become harder for customers to find.

When all of these extra fees are added up, Amazon takes around a 50 percent cut of each sale made by a third party. It’s projected that Amazon will earn around $125 billion from collecting fees in the U.S. in 2023, most of which get passed on to you.

By charging all of these extra fees and stifling independent companies from selling their products for less elsewhere, Amazon is using its dominance to essentially set prices for all consumers across the internet.

And when you combine Amazon’s control of ecommerce with all of the other industries it has entered by gobbling up companies — such as Whole Foods, One Medical, and MGM — you’re left with a behemoth that simply has too much power.

This is all part of a much larger problem of growing corporate dominance in America. In over 75% of U.S. industries, fewer companies now control more of their markets than they did twenty years ago.

The lack of competition and consumer choice has resulted in all of us paying more for goods because corporations like Amazon can raise their prices with impunity. By one estimate, corporate concentration has cost the typical American household $5,000 a year more than they would have spent if markets were truly competitive.

This power isn’t just being used to siphon more money from you. A giant corporation has the power to bust unions, keep workers’ wages low, and funnel money into our political system.

It’s a vicious cycle, making giant corporations more and more powerful.

But under the Biden administration, the government is making a strong effort to revive antitrust law and use its power to reign in big corporations that have grown too powerful.

We must stop the monopolization of America. This FTC lawsuit against Amazon is a great start.

[shotmrmiller]

Pathetic Simon who gets given a new recruit to train. A big strong lady who isn't afraid to be paired with him for grappling practice. Who isn't intimidated by his stature and mask. I just love the thought of him being so desperate for the touch and then so horribly horny that he basically has to RUN to the bathroom after every round.

ARGH!

My woman is strong. She's got beautifully round delts, she's got big biceps and thick forearms. Her quads? Jacked. Back? Muscular. Arse? A wagon. Competes with Simon's.

That's what she is. Powerful. Because she won't be the one calling out for help in a sticky situation. They'll be calling for backup.

I digress.

Simon had to double-take to make sure what he was seeing walking onto the mat wasn't something out of his own wet dreams.

Her rough, calloused hands touch his forearms as they get into a grappling stance, and his cock is immediately stirring. The grip she holds his wrist in is so tight, it feels like one of those blood pressure cuffs.

Delicious.

Simon's spine rattles when he's thrown onto the mat, (he let himself just this once because he needs to know what it's like to get womanhandled around by her), and he stands up kinda stiff, and shakes her hand.

In the bathroom, he used the same hand she shook his with to wrap it around himself and imagined it was her own. It felt like it, too. His hand is a little rougher, but nothing his own mind can't fix.

Wanked himself literally raw. The idea of her hand chafing him from how tough it is sent him into a frenzy.

Now he goads her into being physical with him. Will block her way, and she'll grab him by the shoulders and shove.

bathroom.

Bumps into her with his shoulder, only to be bumped back later on and the force behind it tips him onto his heels.

bathroom.

He'll try to firmly close his office door with his hands as she's trying to come in and she'll line up her body with it— one deep breath later and she's slamming her shoulder into the center of it, forcing her entry.

Ghost almost came in his pants when the door crashed into him as she confidently walked inside, casting an expectant look in his direction.

He let her fight some other recruit, some sexist pig who claimed that he didn't want to hurt a little lady. Nothing about her is little.

And when Ghost was witness to the other recruit's body being catapulted across the floor he sprinted away with the excuse of "Gotta piss."

The only thing that came out of his cock then was cum.

btw, i need her to be a battering ram too? Can you imagine being a bad guy running away, you're almost at the door and then something with the strength of a wooly mammoth slams into you? My heads ricocheting off the wall and im falling unconscious.

And so is Ghost because all the blood in his head instantly rushed to his other head.

[cryoverkiltmilk]

My favorite wisdom from a western riding trainer was "A horse can tell when a rider doesn't know what they're doing. A burro/mule can tell that they're trying."

monthly “I love donkeys and mules” post :)

[chernobog13]

Being chased by a mammoth in the Xenozoic Age!

[hannahbarberra162]

hOrnithology for Beginners

On Ao3

Next chapter

I know I said it was a one shot but I lied. I think it will be 4 chapters.

Marco X Reader, no use of "y/n." Fluffy fun.

Summary: You spend your days waitressing, using all your free time working to become an ornithologist and hunting poachers. You meet and befriend a rare mythical bird, with clear intelligence and astounding beauty. At the same time, an annoying group of pirates are docked at the island. One of them with a stupid haircut keeps trying to charm you, but you hate pirates and especially this one. He’s persistent - can’t he just leave you alone so you can hang out with your new Phoenix friend?

Marco isn’t sure what to do - you love him in his phoenix form, but you hate him in his human form. It's a tough spot for birds and bird watchers alike.

Notes:

I think that it could reasonably be assumed that the mythical Zoans are not the only of their kinds. They are the just only humans who can turn into mythical creatures. Rob Lucci is not the only leopard, Jack isn’t the only mammoth, Yamato isn't the only kitsune, etc. For the purposes of this story, there are more than one of each mythical creature, but only one Devil Fruit user who can turn into one. So reader isn't totally off that it is a phoenix, she just doesn't know it's The Phoenix.

~~~

You tightened your apron ties and scanned the patrons coming in for the lunch rush. Looked like the usual groups - some tourists, some bird watchers, some locals. You didn’t see any obvious waterfoul - your punny code word for pirates. One of the reasons you kept this shitty job was that it gave you a good peek into everyone coming and going on the island. Your island was famous for its stunning bird migrations. It was the southernmost island before the longest landless stretch of sea in the Grand Line. Flocks of birds would often rest at the island in preparation for the long journey to the next set of islands. It was also a wonderful location to try to spot rare and mythical birds. You’d seen a few and captured their essences in your sketchbook. 

Unfortunately, waterfoul weren’t interested in capturing images. They wanted to catch and kill rare birds for easy money. Poaching was a huge problem on the island, one that you frequently fought against. It was your personal crusade to try and stop as many poachers as possible. You’d caught some others - a few Marines, some local boys - but the primary offenders were almost always waterfoul. You carefully watched when crews came to the port, listening for signs that they were going to look for avian treasures. It usually took a week for log poses to set, so you had a good chance of seeing anyone suspicious. You didn’t care to keep track of any specific crew or pirates - they were all the same. Same arrogance, same swaggering attitude, same cocky assurance that they could do anything they wanted to with no repercussions. You hadn’t met any halfway decent pirates, and you didn’t think you ever would. 

Satisfied that you wouldn’t have to worry as much today, you began your shift. It was grinding your soul to shreds being inside and talking to customers when you could be spending it outdoors, watching and drawing birds. But you needed to make money to afford art supplies, new ornithology books, and poison for your dart tips. So inside you stayed, taking orders from idiots who didn’t know if the mashed potatoes were mashed or fried. After a grueling shift, you were finally able to leave. You chucked your apron into the dirty bin and left immediately, turning down your coworkers requests to hang out as a group after the shift ended.

“C’mon, you never hang out with me. Let’s go grab a drink,” Etta said, giving you puppy dog eyes. Etta was your work BFF, and your only real friend on the island. 

“I can’t, I’m going to try to catch -”

“The next bird migration, I know. But there’s always a bird migration on this island, that’s the deal here. You can see one tomorrow, the next day, next month, next year even! But there’s only one 2 berri marg night per week…besides I heard there are some hot new pirates in town.” She waggled her eyebrows at you, while you pretended to barf. 

“You know how I feel about pirates. But I do wanna hang out. How about this? Tomorrow after our shift I’ll buy you a margarita, even if it costs more than 2 berri.” You really did like Etta so you compromised - one night out would be OK, you probably wouldn’t miss much. She stuck her tongue out at you.

“Fine, but you can’t flake out. If you do, I’m leaving you to do side prep all by yourself. Think of all those lemons you’d have to cut.” She rolled her eyes, but it was a plan. You were truly excited - she was the first friend you’d made since you were a child. People often told you that you were “intimidating,” or “prickly,” or “difficult,” which was all just code for “bitchy.” You didn’t care - you wanted to be yourself, not try to dull your edges for people who wouldn’t like you either way. So you were happy to be friends with Etta, who liked you despite your “poor attitude” (as your boss called it). 

You changed out of your work clothes and into your hiking gear, taking your day pack with you. This is what  you liked most - going into the wild to watch for birds, especially legendary ones. You walked down to the forest edge and started on a well trodden path. It didn’t take you long before you had diverged from the path and were going rogue. You’d never see anything really good on the tourist paths - people were too loud and startled the birds away. Besides, you’d been on the island a long time now and you knew the best places to wait and watch. 

You picked your way through the dense forest towards the hidden waterfall. It was your slice of heaven on earth. It was secluded enough that you’d never seen anyone else there. The area surrounding the waterfall was more open than the forest floor, making it easy for camping overnight. The water was always cool and clear, wonderful for swimming on a hot day. The waterfall wasn’t terribly large or loud, bringing a pleasant sound of rushing water. There was an alcove behind the waterfall, large enough for three or so people. Leafy trees lined the banks of the river the waterfall fell into, bringing shade on hot days. It was your happy place, where you retreated both physically and mentally when stressed. Today was no exception.

You reached your destination and put your pack down on a familiar flat rock under the shade of a tree. You took out your pencil, sketchbook, and binoculars and started your stake out. You were already mentally tallying the different bird cries you heard. So far, nothing out of the ordinary, just local birds trilling. You also delighted in the ordinary - you enjoyed seeing the same species day after day, learning more about their habits and manner of living. You were sketching a local starling that was imitating the sounds of transponder snails - pretty well, actually - when all of a sudden, your ears perked up when you heard alarm calls. It wasn’t a call for mobbing - when smaller birds would form a group to ward off a predatory bird. These were definitely alarm calls - short, high pitched, loud cries to warn their flocks that a predator was near. 

You were excited, this was great news for you. Hearing these calls meant that something big was coming your way. It might be a more common predator, but maybe not. You’d seen a lightning Secretary bird once that caused the exact same alarm cries. You’d barely caught sight of it before it was gone. Another time, the cries alerted you to an ice Roc perched in a tree a little farther down the river. You’d carefully stalked the bird and were able to get a few sketches of it done before it flew away. Those were the rarest ones you’d ever seen, and you were hoping for another. 

Straining your ears listening to the bird cries, you grabbed your sketchbook and followed them towards the source. You crept along as quickly as you could deeper in the forest, silently walking on the sides of your feet. The cries weren’t quieting down, meaning the predator was still in the area. Scanning, you inhaled a gasp as you saw the apex predator at hand. Perched on a branch overlooking the river was a phoenix. A blue fire phoenix, with dark blue almost purple accent markings that made it look like it was wearing glasses. You could barely remember to breathe in its presence.

You stood there agog with your mouth open until the bird moved slightly to shift its feathers. You opened your sketchbook and drew quick sketches of it before you missed your chance. You jotted notes of the colors, wanting to remember exactly what it looked like. Seeing the phoenix was like seeing a god in the flesh. It was a blur of blue flames, ending with wisps of yellow. The movment of its body was like watching the waterfall, endless and yet each moment fleeting at the same time. You could scarcely believe that you were able to see one, much less sketch it. You must have been making too much noise because it looked straight at you despite your hiding spot in the brush.

You weren’t worried about it hurting or killing you - that would be an honor. Well, not really, but you typically found predatory birds disinterested in humans. You kept on sketching even though your hands were shaking. The bird cocked its head to the side and continued to watch you. It almost felt…awkward, like you had intruded on a private moment. After a minute or so it seemed to have gathered whatever information it wanted and flew away. Even watching it leave was magnificent, tail feathers like a chain of golden coins dancing in the wind. When it finally left your sight, you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. That was almost orgasmic for you. You rushed to pack up your things so you could go home and sketch with detail and notations before you forgot anything.

On your way back, the only thing on your mind was the phoenix. You thought about its elegance, its restrained power, its understated intelligence. It was the most striking bird you’d ever seen out of the thousands you’d cataloged. You thought more about its coloring, trying to think of the exact shades of blue and yellow you’d use to describe it. But now that you thought about it, seeing a blue fire phoenix was peculiar. Everything you’d heard about phoenixes depicted them as yellow bodied with red accents. But not much was known about any legendary bird so perhaps this one was rarer or maybe hadn’t been discovered yet. It had some kind of marking on its chest - but unfortunately where you were standing obscured your ability to see the marks directly. The glasses markings were a little funny - almost like a spectacled owl. It did give the phoenix a distinctive and distinguished look, like a scholar or a doctor. You were practically skipping with delight towards your home, thinking of all the little details you wanted to remember.

~~~

The next day, you went to work with a smile on your face. Not even the sight of waterfoul in your section could dull your mood today. You’d spent hours sketching and coloring drawings of the phoenix you’d seen, writing every possible memory you had down to preserve it forever. Etta wasn’t in yet - she was starting a shift staggered an hour after yours- but you’d have to tell her about it when you saw her again. Smiling, you walked to the table of waterfoul getting your pad out to take their order. As you got to the table, your smile dropped and your bitch face turned on. You set it to extra sour just for your own fun. 

You looked at the assembled men - you saw two stupid hairstyles, two stupid hats, and one well...there was nothing stupid looking about the last man. He was absolutely gorgeous with black glossy hair set in a classic style and incredible geisha style makeup. Whatever, even if he was good looking he was still a pirate. The man with the stupidest hairstyle smiled warmly at you, like he knew you. You dropped your neutral face into a frown.

“What do you want?” you said in a flat tone.

“Aren’t you supposed to greet customers with a friendly welcome?” said stupid hairstyle two with a smirk. You wanted to dump a cup of water on his pompadour. Or maybe soup.

“Of course! Whatever would you like today, my fair patrons?” you replied in an overly sweet and simpering voice. You even curtsied at the end to hammer the point home. The point being - fuck off. As soon as the words left your lips, you went back to frowning. Pineapple Hair looked at you curiously.

Cowboy hat laughed and said “I’ll start with three steaks, rare. And a beer.” Pineapple Hair, Pompadour, Twirly Mustache and Glamor Man also placed their orders. When they were done, you turned on your heel and went to put in their orders. You attended your other tables and customers, servicing them all while thinking about your phoenix. 

After a while, you saw Etta enter through the staff door. Before she could get to the floor you quickly pulled her to the kitchen. You both spoke excitedly at the same time.

“Guess what - “

“Guess what - “

“You go first,” Etta said, listening intently.

“I saw a legendary bird last night! It was everything I could have ever dreamed of! It was absolutely incredible…I can’t wait to show you the sketches.” Etta was one of the only people you showed your drawings to. You loved the art of drawing but felt self conscious about your ability.

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you,” Etta’s eyes lit up. She always liked when you shared your ornithology information with her and dutifully listened to some of your ramblings..

“What’s your news?” Maybe 2 berri margs were available again tonight?

“So I went out to the bar last night and met someone for a little fun. They’re in town until their log pose resets. I was talking to them for a while and mentioned that you are a real bird expert, not like the shitty tour guides who don’t know anything.” You narrowed your eyes. This wasn’t heading in a direction you liked.

“He’s actually interested in beetles, not birds. But I said that beetles are an important part of several bird’s diets,” she said, hedging around something.

“That’s true, you’ve been listening to my rants,” you said, still on guard. There was something she wasn’t saying and you had a feeling you weren’t going to like it. 

“So I might have volunteered you to come on a double date with him and his friend birdwatching and looking for beetles,” she said in a rush while starting to steeple her hands in a begging motion.

“What aren’t you telling me? There’s more to it than that.” you asked suspiciously. 

“Uhm. Well, the thing is. They’re pirates -”

“Etta! Oh my god. I knew it was something -”

“No, no listen! Listen. They seem actually nice and reasonable. The one I met yesterday, Ace, was so sweet and hot! I really like him.”

“Ohmyfuckinggod. Pirates? Etta they’ll probably kill us and take our stuff if we go to the woods with them. Or worse.”

“No! They’re like, high ranking pirates, so you know they have to be good.”

“That is not at all what that means.” You crossed your arms, and waved at the little window in the kitchen door that looked into the dining room.

“Look, there’s shitty pirates out there right now. They’ve already annoyed me and it’s only been like half an hour. Think about what a few hours would do to me.” Etta looked out the window. 

“Oh, actually he’s right there! Isn’t he hot?” Etta ducked down so he couldn’t see her.

“Who? Which one?” You really hoped it was Glamor Man, but he didn’t seem outdoorsy. You looked at the table where Cowboy Hat was asleep face down in his food. Could you drown in peas? 

“The one wearing the cowboy hat, that’s Ace. Isn’t he just so fine?” Of course that was the one she liked. He was something alright. Etta was practically drooling. Ace was too. 

“Etta, as my only friend, I have to tell you-”

“Please please please please please please -”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea and I really don’t want to go on a double date with -”

“Please please please please please - I’ll take your shift tomorrow so you have two days off in a row! It’s the weekend too! Just come out with me tomorrow with these guys, please!”

You sighed. You didn’t want Etta to get herself killed, and two days off was very appealing during busy season. You could go camping overnight and see if the phoenix ever returned. 

“Fine. But we’re going on the popular trails and I will absolutely not be kissing any pirate. And you have to roll my silverware tonight.” You barely even cared who you were set up with so you didn't bother to ask. You'd find out tomorrow anyway.

“Thank you thank you thank you!!” Etta squealed and hugged you tightly. You gave a small smile, knowing you’d made your friend happy. And looking for beetles did actually sound like fun. Who knew pirates liked bugs?