#pruinesce

[crevicedwelling]

the paralyzed cicadas I picked up from a failed cicada killer nest are the perfect material to show off some cool features of insect anatomy! (although the wasp’s venom would keep them alive for her larvae to eat, I froze them to make sure they’re fully dead for dissection).

cicadas are powerful, fast fliers, and all of their thorax is taken up by a bulk of reddish, stringy flight muscles, which I’ll talk more about later. this cicada is a female, so her abdomen is full of white, elongated eggs that she will insert into tree bark with the bladed ovipositor at her rear.

the male cicada’s abdomen, however, is almost entirely empty, and that air-filled space is used as a resonator for his loud calls. the biggest structure visible there is a curved pair of muscles that deforms the tymbals, producing a click with every contraction.

here's a view of the complete muscle, and the tymbals themselves which look like overlapping plates on his belly. if you're curious what the white frosted appearance is, some Neotibicen have a coat of waxy powder or pruinescence; this male N. tibicen is particularly pruinose.

onto the flight muscles:

powered flight is a pretty complex mechanism in any organism, and is never so simple as just flapping wings up and down, but most insects power their flight in a really unintuitive way (at least for us vertebrates): they contract muscles in their thorax that aren’t even attached to the wings!

this method of flight is called indirect flight, in contrast to the direct flight of the dragonflies and mayflies where each of four wings is directly attached to a muscle and can flap on its own.

instead, most insects have a longitudinal (image 1 above, d below) pair and a vertical (2, c) pair of muscles that deform the shape of abdomen, pulling the upper segment of the thorax (notum) up and down, and this moves the wings which are attached to the notum. useful indirect flight gif from wikipedia found here

even if compressed manually, the dead cicadas "flap" their wings due to the motion of the notum:

insect flight is a lot more complicated than this simplified look at them, but I think these cicadas offer a pretty good look at how most insects get around essentially by squishing themselves internally!

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Widow Skimmer - Libellula luctuosa

Alongside the Belted Whiteface monitoring the cottage pond, several of these majestic individuals were found perching and patrolling this area of low to the ground plants. Their wing and body patterning were similar to the Common Whitetail Dragonflies and Twelve-Spotted Skimmers (respectively, and the females for the latter) that are prominent at the stream near my home, but alas, these photographs showcase a new find for me. Upon researching, this new Skimmer is a closer relative to the Twelve-Spotted (L. pulchella). The individual in this set of pictures is a male. In terms of coloration males and females appear similar, although certain images I've seen showcase females with more prominent yellow markings on their abdomen, leading atop the head and thorax. Where identification is concerned, there are other features we can examine to be certain. We can also consider the wings! Male Widow Skimmers have those white areas decorating the middle of the wings (next to the brown bands closer to the body), while females lack those sections. This distinction also helps clear up any confusion for this specie against the Common Whitetail.

It might sound silly, but the two Dragonflies can be tough to identify in the blink of an eye. This is of further importance as the male Widow Skimmer's abdomen turns white with age due to pruinescence (just like fellow cottage resident, the Belted Whiteface), further increasing the resemblance to the Whitetail. It's not clear to me why these Dragonflies' bodies become coated with waxy, white scales as they age, but the change is thought to help with heat control and territorial warning function. No matter these case, best be aware that Dragonflies can go gray and body patterns may not hold all the answers for identification. Speaking of which, immature males may not have the white areas on the center of the wing (they will appear with age), so look for the presence of claspers at the tip of the abdomen. They should be quite prominent (as they were for this male) and clear all doubt. The brown patches will always be there, whether male or female, and their appearance (resembling a mourning garb) in conjunction with their species name gave them the title of "Widow Skimmer". If not for the carnivorous habits, if would be interesting (or a fearful omen) to see them alongside Mourning Cloak Butterflies.

Pictures were taken on July 1, 2023 in Caledon with a Google Pixel 4. Next week, one more Caledon insect: a beautiful Beetle saved from the swimming pool.

[fhithich]

There is nothing as exhilerating as being out in the snow

Well ok, it was only a smattering, a ‘greymin‘, barely enough to cover the rocks on this Bronze Age tumulus on Great Ayton Moor. ” ‘Twas frost and thro leet wid a o’ greymin snaw“. On my walk up Roseberry through Newton Wood, the feathery pruinescence of the dead bracken fonds meant I was not convinced that any snow had actually fallen, we had just had a heavy frost. They say the Inuit have 50…

[aokaso]

“y-you’re dripping blood on the carpet.”

hell is something that he experiences almost every night, over and over again he comes to this house. unable to get in at times, powerlessly standing there as everything burns, screams of voices he knows very well. and then he wakes up

another night he is able to get in, but ghosts can’t be seen of course, can’t be heard or talk to anyone. no one here talks to ghosts do they ? 

he always comes home hurt one way or another, at first it started with some burns, nothing special he’s used to it until it’s blood. he got stabbed and another time it’s worse but nobody helps him, nobody sees him they’re at the table all together, laughing and sharing a meal he’d love to eat with them really. but he can’t

until another night where the nightmares come, where he is back home. he can’t stop himself from going in, he just does it naturally, another hell loop he doesn’t want to experience but this time it looks different. when he hears her voice he looks up in shock “Yu-” at the mention of his blood he falls down pathetically, unable to get up “h-help me, Yumi please” 

he feels close, so terribly close to finally be able to talk to them. of course it’d be her who sees him first, of course she would be the one. two souls separated would always find their way back to each other someway, right ? 

[brainwashe]

the elementary school seemed content to run rampant around ua...     one was crawling over shinso’s back,   jam - covered hands against a far too expensive school shirt,   but shinso had accepted his fate   [it wasn’t so bad,  really...    not after he’d gotten used to spending time the likes of kaminari and izuku].    loud and awkward had become his day - to - day life.     he perked up when he noticed the teacher,    trying to wrestle the elementary schooler from his back.        ‘     we’ve shown them most of the school by now,   just the training grounds left.    todoroki will be giving a demonstration.     ’          @pruinesce​

[diutive-arch]

the early morning bus,   exhaustion wearing away at the adrenaline in his blood...     he stands alone outside of it,   yawning gently to himself,   breathing his miserable morning blues into the air   [   he hadn’t realised he’d shown up so early until a quick glance around told him that none of his teammates had arrived yet   --   not even hinata had gotten here yet   ].     his bag swung to his ground,   his spine tiptoeing against the edge of the bus.    HE SHOULD GET ONE OF THOSE CONSOLES THAT HINATA STOLE FROM KENMA...     or he could start throwing the ball against the wall.   that’s how he’d practiced for most of his childhood,  anyway.         his body jumps when rei makes her appearance:     he rubs sleep from the side of his eyes and stifles another yawn.          ‘          do you need some help with those bags?       ’          @pruinesce

[crtlz-a-a]

fuyumi's hand is shaking as she reaches out. it's him, she thinks. it's really him. her fingers tremble, hovering just centimeters away from his face, her eyes wandering over every inch of him. it's almost as if she's afraid to touch him; afraid that if she did, her hands might go through him entirely . . . but it doesn't. she releases the breath she'd been holding, tears finally running down her face. ' touya. it's - it's really you. '

there’s a million words touya could use, say, write to describe his family. each member had a different association ; his sister isn’t weak, frail, helpless. she’s strong than, he thinks, even she knows. ruin their lives, a voice told him, tear that veil. the way his smile on television was wicked, his words nothing but biting, harsh, laced with cruel enjoyment. his hatred for his family didn’t extend to her, the way he speaks to their father isn’t how he’d speak to her.

THE PAST CANNOT BE ERASED. YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW,

          let’s go to hell and dance together with your son, todoroki enji.

his laughter is always senseless, delirious ; his siblings were not an afterthought, as he looked down at shouto who was watching with horrified eyes, confusion and shock. are you proud of your little brother ?? no. no, fuck no. part of him still wants to kill him.

the prize. the apple of the todoroki’s eyes. precious little shouto. he wouldn’t spare a look over his shoulder, a passing thought, a glance, nothing. as he crawled his way out of flames and rocks, over mountains to get ... home isn’t the right word. he has no home. over moutains with dirt and blood under his fingernails to get to his family. 

clothes are tattered and frayed, ruined and bloodied. burnt at the edges where his own skin betrayed him, still huffing out smog and ash from his mouth. would they even recognize him ?? no one else did. no one knew him until he spoke his name. destroyed the reputation of enji while watching life drain from his eyes, cackling as he twirled and revelled in the tear in shouto’s features. does he defend the man who ruined his life, attack his older brother who’s terrorized him and his friends safety for years now ?? does he let this happen, does he watch idly as his father’s murdered for all to see ??

either way, dabi doesn’t care. he has more important tasks to accomplish. he has more important people to see. his features soften, even as he clenches his jaw, hand supporting his weight against brick wall. he can hear televisions on the main road blaring with warnings, be on the lookout for a villain with burns, skin grafts, who’s now been identified as the first born son of endeavor, the son who died in the care of the commission.

fuyumi, natsuo, rei.

they’re more important to him. he’s limping, hunched over while wheezing out with every second step. dragging hand against cement, letting go and stumbling until he can steady himself against weighted tree in the front yard. home. 

                                   the word’s foreign, weightless, meaningless.

the way she looks at him when the door opens, eyes puffy, clear she’d been crying before he’d gotten there. touya says nothing, stares at her, watches the processing of emotions on her face. her eyes welling up, the cold air pricking his heated skin as her hand gets closer to his face. he wants to lean away, his mind, the one holding onto dabi still, screams to no avail to move, grab her hand, swat it away. but he doesn’t.

               it’s really him. 

          really touya.

he can’t agree. his name’s touya, he is touya, but ... not the one fuyumi knows. not the same as he was when they were playing together in the yard as children, not the one who had to sit and let her bandage his burned flesh, not the one who hid in his room away from endeavor, not the one who died in the commission in a burst of uncontrollable flames and shrieks for help.

     but he can’t say anything else to her.

he asks silently if she’s always known, knowing no one did. there’s no touya left to recognize, none of that little boy existing on his frame. his eyes were todoroki teal, but that’s it. his gaze, hurt, watching her, tensing under her touch. his chuckle is emotionless, his smile stretching again, maybe a bit more genuine than it’s ever been.

“hey, fuyu,” it’s dry and strained, knees threatening to buckle under him. “long time, no see.”

[wingfierce]

UNPROMPTED !

@pruinesce​​:  ' did you know? ' fuyumi's hands suddenly reach out and shove against his chest, albeit weakly, and the frosty imprints of her hands fade as quickly as they'd appeared. ' answer me. please. '

     how surreal how ethereal it is to witness a mid winter’s snow spiral into a blizzard.   the woman is  righteous  within her desperate demand  ,  but to be a witness to it is startling.  the ever melting wax that is hawks is frigid within the undertow  ,  a singular golden eye muddied in shame.  the frigid prints of her hands melt  ,  but the chill ices over his bones.  he didn’t know  ,  he was as blindsided as everyone else who suffocated under the reveal.  (  if you did  ,  would you have told her  ?  would you tell her you reveled in the filth designed by her long dead brother  ?   is it startling to you that the immediate answer is no ?  )  how could he                how could he ever  ?   he may have never had to  ,  but the implications wouldn’t have shifted.  no matter the circumstance  ,  nothing would save fuyumi from becoming the baby bird.  nothing would cease her tiny bones from breakage against the window pane. 

hawks stutters and chokes on his words that taste of ash  ,  choking on the dying fire that made a home in his chest.  “   fuyumi  ,  i didn’t             i didn’t know.   ”   a foreign voice breaks through the cracks of the sullied actor  ,  hands rising from their frozen position at his sides.  how terrible it was to have made a bed with the dead and a comfort with the living and in the end to have no place to sleep in.  but when has he mattered in the equation  ?  he didn’t then and he doesn’t now.  it didn’t matter how much he burned or froze  ,  all his head could focus on was fuyumi and touya.  two siblings sullied by a man who once existed as a hero in his head  ;  a man who he swore saved him  ,  but what is a savior if they’ve destroyed their own family  ?  what is a hero if they’ve lied for the sake of placement  ?   hawks  ,  a lie chiseled to present perfection  ,  couldn’t answer that fully.

if he knew of a way to comfort her he’d take her into his arms and drive her away  ,  but he can’t.  he holds no wings to fly her away with  ,  holds no righteous cause here.  all he can do is answer from the pits of his own  ignorance and secret  ,  rancid truth.  hawks had stared into the eyes of her brother’s corpse  ,  the ghost of a friend  ,  for months and couldn’t connect the dots.  if fuyumi needed a hero it wasn’t him               no tenderness  ,  no bandages in the world could set her bones right.  it makes hawks ache more than the wounds between his shoulders.   “   i swore he was gone ,  too.   ”    he doesn’t divulge detail  ,  it wouldn’t matter  ,  “   i’d never lie about that to you  ,  fuyumi.    ”   he would lie  ,  but he doesn’t have to  ,  so he simply ignores how the words burn his tongue.  “    i’m sorry  ...  i’m so sorry.   ”

[phantombs]

' you can tell me, if something's wrong. ' fuyumi's hands hesitantly reach to rest over his own, face full of concern. ' i'm here. '

"Of course you are." Cường meets her hand. He looks out the window as the glow of noon settles thick, shimmery against the sprawling treetrops in a show like spider webs jeweled by deluge. He bathes in the quiet. It feels dainty where he isn't, aching and hurting and eyebags bruised deep. Pitiful, he guesses he appears. And the way that her voice comes soaked in worry... No. "There you go, worrying that heart heavy again," Cường whispers, scream-raw. He turns his palm over, and his fingers curl reassuringly. He doesn't look. "Don't. Irises rebloom after they wither, you know. You worry about things that will be okay without it: your worry." Finally he turns, and his expression cuts bleedingly patient. "Don't make yourself sick with it. I'm okay."

[dawnwine]

     “   miss fuyumi  ,  it’s awfully late.   ”    voiced from his perch in the solitary chair  ,  eyes a mere drift over to her figure.   her footsteps were easy enough to tell from others circulating the manner  ;  tip-toes in comparison to thunderous stomps.  perhaps that was simply the gait of a guest compared to a normal patron.  regardless it held a certain aspect of  ...  refreshment.  not many souls resided within the walls of his estate besides the maids and elzer.  she was entirely novel.   eyes finally lift to judge her state and he finds his stagnant expression changing even in the slightest  ;  brows pinched  ,  lips pressed thin.   not being a man of inaction ,  diluc rises without hesitation.  “   you look   ...  startled.  what is it  ?  ”

@pruinesce​ !

[tajukonmoved]

     “   oi  ,  fuyumi  -  chan !  ”     yosano makes a beeline for her  ,  tiny heel of her shoe clicking in tune with her sing-song exclamation.   “   are you headed out  ?   if so  ...   i have a great idea.   ”   she had her fair share of pestering kunikida               while normally it was in his best interests  ,  piecing together his romantic life had been a sort of happy accident.  she absolutely teased him  ,  but nonetheless it’d made yosano nothing short of giddy.  and it was a perfect chance for another break from the boys in the office .   “   why don’t we get to know eachother a bit  ,  hah ?   there’s a new food vendor who set up just across the street and i  really  would enjoy gettin’ to pick you apart.    ”

@pruinesce​ !

[nebyuula]

@pruinesce​​ / beach-trip starter call 

“FUYUMI! I HAVEN’T BEEN TO THE BEACH IN LIKE, YEARS!” she’s all up in the ocean. wiggling her toes in the sand and laughing when the waves tickle her ankles. she turns around to wave her friend over, “let poseidon kiss your feet! he’s super into that but don’t let him know i told you that-”

[divaur-a]

@pruinesce   //   do not rb w/o permission f.uyumi pretty

[jikangai-a]

[ 𝐇𝐔𝐆 ] My muse hugs yours tightly after not having seen them for a while..... but listen. Listen. make it a smooch.

acts of affection || still accepting !

he feels like he’s crawled his way out of hell. and in a way, he has. he escaped death so narrowly, that sometimes the shock that he’s still standing hits him and overwhelms him. he certainly didn’t think he’d ever see her again, standing in front of him looking so heavenly, like an angel welcoming him back to earth. even just the sight of her makes him emotional, touching her face so gently as he leans in to give her a tearful kiss. 

‘ fuyumi... ‘ what could he say ? there was so much to say he was overwhelmed. he finds himself speechless in her presence. there’s too much to catch up on. but that could take time. ‘ i’m so happy to see you. ‘ 

[aokaso]

he’s still amazed by the fact that he’s able to roam free in this world once more, but this time in the safest space he’s known. it still feels weird and obviously hard to believe. touya todoroki the murderer but to the one standing in front of him he’s just touya. just her big brother nothing more, nothing less. and maybe that’s enough.

he stands there for a second, watching her carefully and approaches, she’s making something warm, a soup maybe? that’ll help, he can feel his throat itching just a little. “can i help with something?” he’s finally right by her side, watching what she does. he wants to bond with her again so badly, with everyone but he has no idea how, no idea how he should act either. he’s figured some things out about whoever this touya person is, but that’s basically all there is to it. “what are you making, yumi?”

@pruinesce​ coming ages later but it’s finally here. 

[healrbitten-a]

@pruinesce​ said:   ♗ !

                                               ————     𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄     /     accepting .

this is a formal request for fuyumi’s hand in marriage.