#same with the flamingos every time i walked by them they were getting to verbal fights it was funny

[bumpscosity]

also while i was at the zoo i saw these weird Beasts called chacoan peccaries and apparently when they were first discovered in the 1930s they just found fossils and thought they were extinct until they finally found living ones in the 70s. they look like what a kids drawing of a wild hog would look like and i like them very much. they aren't even pigs.

[narniaandplowmen]

Mysterious Fathoms Below (6/8)

Fandom: OUAT Pairing: Captain Swan Also on AO3

Rated: General Audiences Complete Full Fic is 12005 words

Summary:  When a storm throws Killian overboard, a mysterious mermaid who saves him. Now it is up to him to save her and bring her back home.

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CHAPTER 6 - Mistakes

The moment they arrived in the waters of the Enchanted Forest, they were surrounded by guards. Emma ignored them and swam up as fast as possible, trying to get Killian the air he needed. She had created the portal as close to shore as possible. When they arrived at the surface, Emma smiled at the by now familiar movements of Killian shaking his head and moving his hair out of his face. Suddenly, the faces of several guards popped up out of the water beside them.

“Princess!”  one shouted, and suddenly it was chaos. One of the men next to her grabbed her wrist, stating something about being ‘worried sick’ and ‘your parents’ and ‘the kingdom’ but Emma did not listen. Instead, she tried to free herself from his grip, get away from the guards and get ho- Emma gasped and froze. She had not thought of Killian as a pirate, nor as the man that brought her back home to her parents, but as home. And the weirdest part was that she was not scared. She did not want to run or hide or get away and forget. She wanted to stay. Suddenly, she was dragged down by several hands and surrounded by angry, relieved, tired and annoyed voices. She was walled in and the feeling of home immediately got replaced by an overwhelming feeling of terror.

“Get off me!”  she shouted, but her words were drowned out by the guards shouting orders to each other. Suddenly, a blast of light emerged from her, blowing every guard several feet away from her. Emma winced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you- are you guys okay?” 

    ~   ~   ~   ~ 

The trip back to the castle was relatively uneventful, although the guards kept a distance and looked at her with a hint of fear in their eyes. She couldn’t blame them, she just blasted them with magic she only recently learned she had. Sure, all mermaids could create portals, talk to fish and in some realms even control the weather, but this was something different. She was happy none of them got severely injured, but at the same time scared and confused. She couldn’t stop apologising, which, Emma now realised, made the guards even more uncomfortable. Right before they entered the castle gates, their leader finally quipped “Well, I guess you don’t need us to protect you” , drawing laughs from the entire group. Emma looked at the old soldier and mouthed her thanks before entering the place she only recently had desperately escaped from.

    ~   ~   ~   ~ 

Killian didn’t know how much he had had, but it was enough for the room to be spinning and his insides to be warm. The last time he was this drunk was a long time ago, it was during – after? – something special. Not that he could remember what, because his brain was all too muddied to think straight. In other words: his brain was in the perfect state to come up with ridiculous ideas. Which happened to be just the kind of ideas he liked best. Killian remembered one of the captains he served under, some fellow named- named- captain? Something bird. He shook his head. Anyway, cap-captain flamingo had always said, when the crew complained his plan was far too ridiculous, that that was exactly the reason why the plan would work. Which it usually did. Genius man, that captain pelican. And, now that Killian thought about it, always drunk too. He accepted another glass from a barmaid and considered his options. He could tell the crew about the riches hidden on that beach Emma told him about, but that was not a guarantee that they wouldn’t just run away with the money and leave him stranded, literally and figuratively. Or, he could just turn into a mermaid and join Emma as her prince consort. He hiccupped and looked down at his legs, and for the first time in his life he realised he had 4 of them, which might make the task a little more difficult if it didn’t look so hilarious. Four legs. That was half an Ursula. Half an Ariel-cursing Ursula. Suddenly, Killian’s mind became as clear as it possibly could, given the circumstances it had to work in. Ariel. Didn’t she have some magical bracelet allowing her to switch between tail and legs? Mermaid Queen Snow had gifted it to her. Staggering, Killian got up and left the tavern, determined to find Ariel and- and- Killian heaved the insides of his stomach in a nearby barrel and collapsed.

    ~   ~   ~   ~ 

Emma had feared that the King and Queen – she still found it weird that they were her mom and her dad – would be furious at her. She had ran away, left everyone worried and probably destroyed her entire room. She had been thrown out of foster homes for much less than that. Turned out, however, that her parents were just glad she was back and angry more at the danger she could have been in than at her. She had told them where she was, and, after a bit of hesitation, with who and why. She could see that Snow and David were hurt by her words, but when she spoke of Killian all worries were forgotten and replaced by the hope that their daughter had found her true love. Emma had scoffed at those words and warned them that she did not know yet, but her mother was satisfied. Still, Emma went to bed early with as an excuse that she was tired. The fact that an extraordinary number of servants followed her into her room did not go unnoticed, and neither did the fear Emma could clearly see in their eyes. Emma tried to ignore it as she covered her head with the covers and desperately tried not to think of a certain handsome pirate with a strange tendency to drown whenever she was around.

    ~   ~   ~   ~ 

Killian woke up with one of the biggest headaches he had had in years. Maybe, he thought after opening and immediately closing his eyes again, the biggest headache ever. Not for the first time he wondered how captain sp- su- seagull? No, that was not it. How captain whichever-other-bird-started-with-an-S managed to drink so much rum and not get horrendously hungover. He groaned when he heard a loud noise behind him. When he slowly opened his eyes again Killian discovered he had collapsed in an alleyway next to the main street, where a woman carrying a child was loudly cursing at a street vendor, complaining about the quality of his products (too low) and the prices he charged for them (too high). Slowly, the happenings of the previous night started to come back to him. After Emma had dropped him off and disappeared, a large wave had sent him in the direction of the coast. There, he had met Blackbeard, and Killian discovered that the tale of his crew’s mutiny had spread fast. After a verbal fight, which Killian feared to admit he had lost, he had walked into the nearest pub and started drinking. And it had obviously taken a long while before he had stopped. Killian looked around and found that he was still holding a half-full bottle of rum. After chugging it he got up. He seemed to remember wanting to find a certain mermaid.

    ~   ~   ~   ~ 

Today, Emma did not have to attend any etiquette lessons. Instead, she was told that the King and Queen had invited her for a ride. Curious, Emma swam to the throne room, where her parents stood waiting. Emma was surprised, she had barely ever seen them in casual clothing.

“Good morning Emma!”  her mother greeted in her ever-cheery voice.

“We- We wanted to apologise”  her father continued, clearly uncomfortable. “We shouldn’t have thrown you into this like we did.” Emma whispered a quiet thanks, and Snow and David started to elaborate on the day’s plans. They would go out on a ride, show her their favourite places, “Just some us-time, no rules, no kingdom-stuff, just fun”. Just fun. Emma nodded. That, she should be able to do, right?

[grandilcquently-a-blog]

REAL OR FAKE, THE SOCIETY OF ESOTERICA? 

Dedicated to finding information on the ever elusive individuals who associate themselves with Thayne Whittal. Post your stories here, discuss your questions with other believers, and find answers within!

          MY STORY.             (Posted by avery_monaghan763 on 12/27/18) Sorry if it’s a bit long, there’s a lot to unpack here. tl;dr: He’s been in my life for years and I only found out about why on my wedding day. I’m confused and want answers.

I, for one, have never believed in magic.

My loving parents raised me in a very straight-backed Christian household; anything that broke the mold of what they thought was 'proper' got a one-way ticket to the Satanism basket, never to be heard from again. This meant a lot of Veggie Tales, and absolutely no Sesame Street because Bert and Ernie were a little too friendly. Of course, as I got older, I began to break the mold, and after three or four excursions to Jesus camps, they gave up in trying to make me fit the idyllic lifestyle they had set out for me.

Harry Potter was my first exposure to the idea of magic that wasn't Christ-related. I thought it was a load of bullshit, but Hermione was cute, so my thirteen year-old-mind was able to keep up with the series well enough. After that came Lord of the Rings, and I liked it enough as any seventeen-year-old going through their D&D phase. But, I soon came to the realization that the magic in these worlds wasn't even close to the truth.

I first met Thayne Whittal in college. He was sitting on a bench, on the same path I took to get to Calc from my dorm-room, and I was already ten minutes late. Looking back at it, I dismiss my wishes of waking up earlier that morning, else I might not have met this extraordinary individual. There was a stack of books next to him, and despite the heavy winds that afternoon, they didn't budge. In his hand he held a copy of what I now know to be the Canterbury Tales, reading to himself quietly in the original Olde English. The only reason I stopped and pair enough attention to notice this, was the fact that I felt completely and utterly compelled to do so. It was an epiphany at noon, expanded only by my panicked, still half-awake mind; and so utterly clear that it broke me out of this state.

This man was something worth looking at.

He was lumbering tall, broad in his shoulders; Hagrid with more care to manscaping, I thought; and he wore a long, beige Chesterfield. I couldn't see his shirt underneath at the time, but I could see that it was very colorful, contrasting against the loosely-wrapped navy blue scarf around his neck. When I stopped to gawk at him, his eyes flickered up to look at me, and he smiled. As if he'd known me his entire life, he smiled, and it was inviting and warm and kind all at the same time; unnerving, but comforting. A contradiction of contradictions within itself. The only words he'd said to me this day were, "Good afternoon," before going back to reading his collection of tales. After he spoke, my brain started again, and I simply sputtered out an awkward, "You too," before going on my way.

The next time I met him, I was on my way to get coffee with my now Husband, who was incredibly understanding of my situation and allowed me a pass for missing our date that day. Thayne sat about four blocks away from the niche place, and looked exactly the same as he had when I'd seen him four years previous. This time, however, I saw his shirt clearer; a gaudy Hawaiian button-up, baby blue with near-fluorescent flamingos and palm trees spattered about. I might have laughed at him, if he weren't already laughing. He still held Canterbury Tales, and was chuckling to himself as he turned the page. His voice was a deep, gravelly thing, and though he hadn't spoke, I could hear the lilt of his accent atop it all. Once again, I felt compelled to stop in front of him, except this time, I spoke first.

"Do I know you?" I blurted out, almost yelling over the bustle of the street before us.

Thayne looked at me, perplexed, and squinted; scrutinizing my face for a moment before nodding. "I worked at WSU," he said. "You might have been a student of mine."

My alma mater, where I'd seen him first. I shook my head, daring to step closer. "No, I don't think I was. You, God, this sounds crazy; you were reading that," I gestured to the book in his hands. "And bid me a good afternoon."

As if he'd struck some wondrous part of his mind, he closed the book without marking his page, and beckoned me over. I sat next to him, carefully, as he spoke. "Ah, right! You looked horrible."

He wasn't wrong, I thought, but I was still offended.

"You looked horrible, but; did you at least pass the class?"

"I did." I told him. "Took some time, but I did."

"You're welcome." He said, a verbal nudge to my side as if we were friends catching up.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, completely and utterly confused by this enigma of a man.

"Do you recall what happened that day, in your class? Specifically, what happened to your professor?"

I did, "He was... late, showed up at the same time as me."

"You're welcome."

"I'm not following."

"Not many people do. You're a leader, Avery Monaghan, keep leading. I must be going, though; I'll see you in a few years."

I blinked at him, rapidly, but between the darkness, he had disappeared. Just like that; a breath of wind took him once more, and I was left with many questions. What did he do to make my professor late, that day? Was this man dangerous? And, why did he refer to me with a last name that wasn't my own?

Monaghan is my husband's surname; one that I'd take in the coming years. I didn't know it at the time, so it didn't stand out to me until much later. From that day forward, I could not get Thayne Whittal off of my mind, despite not knowing his name, or anything about him other than the fact that he was the strangest individual I had ever met.

But, things began to happen in my life that I could not explain. Not the kind of things in the realm of ghosts knocking things off of shelves, or UFOs in the sky, but things that seemed too convenient, too good to be true. Like before, if I were terribly late to something important, the person (or people) attending would be late, too. The night my husband and I got engaged, it was a completely clear sky, not too cold; but it began to snow. I loved the snow, and I remember my husband remarking that it was perfect. It was magical.

I saw Thayne again at my wedding. He didn't have his great stack of books this time, and instead wore a crisp white shirt with a bow-tie made of black velvet instead of a scarf. He was out of place, yet blended in perfectly like my friends and family. My grandmother was deep in conversation with him when I noticed him, and he raised a single hand to wave at me. Grandma motioned me over, and I broke away from my husband to make my way toward them.

"You know Thayne?" Grandma asked, accusatory, once I was in ear-shot. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"We were colleagues in college," Thayne interjected. "And you know, with degrees like ours, there isn't time to remember everyone. I'm sure Avery didn't mean to keep you in the dark, Matilda."

"Right, I... uh, can I talk to you alone, for just a moment?" I asked him, and Grandma looked absolutely affronted that I was tearing her away from him. He simply smiled, nodded, gave her a peck on the cheek, and made a promise that he'd be back in a 'tiff.'

We walked outside of the tent that my small, happy-ending wedding was held in, and Thayne looked at the stars as he spoke, wonder in his eyes. "I'm happy for you," he said, and then looked down at me. "Jason's a good man."

"I—Thank you, but—"

"You have a lot of questions." He cut me off, again, and this time, it annoyed me.

"I do; can you just, let me talk?"

He raised a brow, but stayed silent.

I then recounted everything that I could remember; the lateness, the snow, how everything fell into place and how it wasn't right. Something was off, and I knew he had something to do with it, and if he ever thought of hurting anyone I knew, I'd call the cops in a second. He didn't look hurt by my words, but his eyes softened considerably, and he bobbed his head in agreement to them.

"It was me," He said, clearly, as if it were obvious the entire time. "But you've only just started to notice, haven't you?"

I didn't know what he meant.

Thayne seemed to know this, and continued. "When you were seven years old, you were playing baseball with a cousin in the back yard of your grandmother's home. You knew Matilda would be furious if you broke anything, so you took care to make sure you tossed the ball gently to Henry; but he hit it too hard, and the window shattered. You were devastated, and thought for sure, your baseball-rights would be taken away the second she noticed."

"I... I remember, but the ball didn't shatter the window, it—"

"Bounced off." He finished my sentence. "And the time when you were about to spill sangria all over your Aunt Jennifer's new carpet because you wanted to try the adult's drink,"

"The nozzle stopped before anything got out," I finished.

"And, nobody saw you."

"I don't understand." I finally said, and Thayne looked to the stars again.

"You weren't allowed to believe in anything as a child," He said, and he almost sounded sad. "So you didn't see it. You didn't remember it. I don't blame you; who could? But, as you got older, you saw it more often. Saw me, more often. I hoped you'd notice eventually, and you have. You... remind me of my daughter, Charlie. So did Matilda. And your mother. The only difference," He placed a hand on my shoulder, impossibly warm. "Is that you and Matilda believed. You believed, even if you thought you didn't; even if all odds said you shouldn't. You allowed yourself to, and I tried to help in every way I could; between time, and hardships, and everything in between."

There was a long silence between us, and I looked to the sky, too. Millions of stars stared back at me, and for the first time, I saw it all; the belt of the universe, dusky hues of space making themselves known to me, and I started to cry. Thayne said nothing, only holding onto my shoulder and squeezing it, gently, despite his size. "It's beautiful, what the mind can do when we open ourselves to the truth." He said, and I could tell he was looking at me again, even if I didn't look at him.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome."

That was the last of what I saw of Thayne Whittal. Grandma was furious that he was gone again, but, once she saw my tears; it was as if she knew what had happened. She hugged me, for the first time in years, that night, and my wonderful husband let me spend the rest of the reception with her; talking about Thayne, what he had done for her, for my mother. She told me that on the night we buried Mom, he was there, and the stars were brighter than they had ever been that night. He had told her that it was because she was with them, and her fire fueled them all.

This is why I write on this forum, now. I want to know if anyone out there is like me; I've read some of your stories and have marveled at them for hours upon hours, at the kindness of this man, and claims you all make. I don't know how much of it is real, how much of it is bullshit, and how many of you are trolls looking for a good time with stories of time travel and magic.

But, I believe in it now. And I want answers, like the rest of you. Who, or what Thayne is; what he can do; and who else is like him. Thank you, for your time, and I hope we can all try to come to some sort of consensus about this all.

EDIT [12/31/18]: To answer your questions, no, my husband has never seen him. I asked him about it all, told him my story; I don't think he believes it all, but told me that he's never seen or heard about Thayne. My son, who will be three this upcoming January, hasn't seen him, either. I asked simple questions, like if he'd seen a big man in a big coat, and he completely disregarded it all in favor of paying attention to Doc McStuffins. Toddlers. Go figure.

EDIT [1/24/19]: My grandmother passed away today. It broke all of our hearts, but it was a long time coming, and as my husband put it, "She's in a better place." Where that place is, I don't know, but I'm glad she's there. Thayne wasn't at the funeral, like I hoped he'd be. I wonder if he knows. If he knew, and that's why he didn't come. Grief is a heavy thing on the heart, and I'm going to miss her loads. I just wished that he might have been there to help ease the heaviness.

EDIT [1/26/19]: Thank you for your well-wishes. It's my son's birthday, today, and we're trying to smile through the pain. There's been a raven on our balcony the entire morning, and I was wondering if anyone knew anything about the Bird Theory? Message me, if you do, and I'll update the post if anything happens with it.