#she likes these more than footage of birds and squirrels

[bradshawsbaby]

Sarah, I swore I was gonna wait with this one but unfortunately I'm an impulsive little squirrel who can't wait more than two seconds (lol).

I had a thought of Rhett going through an old videotape box that was in the closet because you and him wanted to watch a movie. You and him found a VHS tape with a little piece of masking tape on it that said "Roy and Cece '92-'93" so you, Rhett and his parents decide you're gonna sit down and watch it.

You were totally unprepared for the hilarity that was to ensue.

-You and Rhett absolutely DYING when you saw a shot of Cecelia, eight months pregnant with Rhett, folding up the baby clothes in the nursery and young Royal singing "She's havin my baby". Cecelia threw her shoe at him not two seconds later

-Royal filming two year old Perry who was all pouty and complaining, "I don't wanna stinky baby bruver". Royal learned very quickly that you don't pick a fight with a two year old

-Royal's old pit bull "Chubby" resting his head on Cecelia's bump and freaking out when Baby Rhett kicks

-Cecelia in labor, trying to breathe through the pains and Royal being like "So ya'll want me to get a double wide shot or pan down?". She promptly flipped him the bird and told him "Ya'll get a shot of anything.....and I mean ANYTHING.....coming out down there and I'm gonna kick your ass."

But when you finally see footage of tiny Baby Rhett in Royal's arms, you and him are both laughing and melting all at once, because Cecelia had taken over the filming and young Royal was outright denying that he was crying to which Cecelia laughed and called bullshit. When you heard Royal singing to Baby Rhett too, you knew right then and there that deep down your father-in-law was the biggest softie you'd ever know (lol).

Aww, this is so adorable! 🥹

On the show, I know that Rhett always gets the short end of the stick and his family takes him for granted, but I can’t help but hope that they’ll manage to make things right with him. It’s the sap in me 😂

[insipid-drivel]

This is why we shouldn't use night vision CCTV in the swamp

As is probably well established by now, I live in a swamp that's in the same region as a lot of Bigfoot sightings. I've grown up in this wilderness my whole life, seen and experienced a whole lot of weird crap that is filed away in the "Hey, don't worry about it," part of my brain with the rest of The Horrors.

My mom also did most of her growing up here, but more in the woodlands and plural spaces around housing developments and cities. Basically, where you're more likely to encounter a homeless person or a pigeon in the underbrush than a cryptid or some cool wildlife.

I grew up so deep in these forests and swamps I stay the hell inside after dark and live in blissful ignorance of what goes on outside my bedroom window every night. Some shit I've seen looking in at me. Sometimes it's animals (which was how I found out a storm had knocked over our neighbor's horse fence one night - I suddenly had a Welsh pony pull up to my bedroom window like it was a Wendy's) - sometimes it's just eyes in the shadows that may or may not speak, who cares? Definitely not my little brother's girlfriend who confirmed she sees them too whenever she's here and goes out after dark for a cigarette and runs inside panicked every time they appear. Let's not dwell on it. Moving on.

My mom decided, after becoming thrilled with the huge amount of bird and squirrel traffic I get with my small seed-and-pollinator garden outside of my bedroom window, to set up a motion-activated night vision camera pointed at my feeders to see what may visit in the dark.

Fully-bragging here, but I pretty much have every single species of native bird (and a couple of fucking starlings) that isn't a raptor visit my garden every day. Yesterday I completed my Pokedex when a family of quail came visiting. It's not weird for there to be 15-20+ birds in my garden at once with at least 5 or more individual unique species eating and (mostly) getting along (which some of us could learn from by example, starlings).

I made the tactical decision to bite my tongue about the camera, because this morning, I found I actually wanted to see some of the footage.

Everything was fine when I woke up this morning; my feeders were still rapidly being depleted of birdseed I spend too much of my disability checks on so I can delight my cat and feel like I'm taking care of some of my local wildlife. I use a small trough that I fill will feed for squirrels and the occasional deer that usually takes a couple of days for the locals to empty.

This morning, after having just ROUNDED OFF the ground-trough-feeder with a fresh supply of food the day before, I found the trough completely clean and empty, and dragged several feet away from where I usually leave it. So I asked my mom if she'd review the camera footage, figuring it was probably the same derpy yearling buck with slightly wonky baby-antlers that I've seen eating out of it before.

Nope.

Just a mom with kids to feed. My mom was appalled at the number of them (one of the ways I know she's still domesticated), but I quietly approved and told her that it was probably a mother raccoon and her adolescent babies. I've seen raccoons raising up to 5 kits at a time in places where food is plentiful and the predator count is relatively low. I let my mom know it's totally fine; that the ground feeder is there to feed the nocturnal as well as the diurnal.

The morning quiets down for a few minutes, and I get ready to snooze to the birdsong outside. My mom is still on her phone, half-birdwatching at the foot of my bed, half-scrolling through clips of footage from the rest of that night (which usually is just moths and a stray cat or two setting the camera off), and that's when I heard what I like to wearily call the "There's A Cryptid On My CCTV Gasp".

Look. If you set up cameras in a place like this, you're GOING to see weird shit you can't explain. Part of why I like living out here is because only other people that understand this also live out here. My neighbors and I are all out of our fucking minds, but that's why The Swamp embraces us. If you don't have the psychiatric diagnostic equivalent of a ghost pepper in your brain, you probably won't do well out here. The Swamp is nature's Void: If you gaze long into it, it will gaze back into you. My System of alter personalities smile like idiots and wave into the Void while some of them full-on make out in front of the Void with reckless abandon.

My mom just stammers at first, and and then is like, "I... don't know what that is? It looks like a cat? But I've NEVER seen a cat that big..." Ironically ignoring my cat, who I rescued as a tiny "standard size" kitten from a shelter and found out the hard way that she's actually very much a Maine Coon.

My mom, shaken, shows me the best still she could get from the clip the camera took of The Creature:

She's pale, and visibly unnerved as she brings me her phone with the actual clip of this animal in it. Of course the footage is shittier than when we just had raccoons out there. Didn't you read what I just wrote? The Swamp will not abide your attempts to spoil its fuckery.

But I nevertheless watched this 2-3 second clip of this animal walking by the ground feeder. It's about the size of a medium dog, has no tail, and walks with a very feline gait. My mom is practically freaking out at this point, her voice actually trembling when she keeps asking me "What do you think it is?"

There's a long, heavy silence as I replay the clip a couple more times, just watching this thing move and confirming that, indeed, it's too big to be a domestic cat, but too small to be a mountain lion, and has no discernible tail.

"Mother, it's a bobcat."

"That can't be!"

>therewere5raccoonsthereandit'sabobcatgoodlordmom.mp4

So I pulled up a google search and showed her:

"Oh."

[bgallen]

Bearded dragons, Gibson Girls, and saving the best birthday for last! 2

Welcome to September and a holiday weekend here in the US, for most people anyway.

This week I have a much shorter list than last week and a very random one at that.

This coming Monday (the 4th) is my Mama’s birthday, and I am looking forward to celebrating! She is beautiful, clever, highly efficient, and a joy to be around (super short list). I am incredibly grateful for her.

 I hope you enjoy this short list I’ve compiled. Have a wonderful weekend of rest, fun, and all the fun things on this Labor Day weekend.

·       Bearded Dragon Spoons With His Favorite Sock | The Dodo - YouTube, I trained on showing a bearded dragon when I first began working at the zoo. His name was Buford and he was so much fun to work with. Did you know that they have a third eye?!

·       Sean Magee - Tippin' It Up To Nancy [Official Music Video] 4K HDR - YouTube, love this – it’s so good.  

·       Gibson Girls Clocking in - AI Breathes New Life into 1904 Film - YouTube, it’s always fascinating to me to find and view footage like this Glamour Daze has done an incredible job restoring the video and adding sound. Their wee purses hung right at their belts is so clever.

·       Dolly Parton - Magic Man (Carl Version) (feat. Ann Wilson) (Official Audio) - YouTube, I enjoyed this cover by Dolly with an appearance by Ann.

·       Heart-Magic Man - YouTube, and of course here is the original. Heart is one of my favorites.

·       The Edwardians had Cosmetic Surgery & it Wasn't Dissimilar to Today - YouTube, just in case you think 2023 is special…and they are “correcting” essentially the same things that people correct today. Fascinating!

·       Chinese Snowball Viburnum Bush Vs Hydranga - Birds and Blooms, I didn’t realize how very similar the two of these plants are! An easy way to distinguish them is by size. The Chinese Snowball is much taller than a Hydrangea, up to five feet more!

·       8 Nutty and Fun Facts About Squirrels - Birds and Blooms, one of the saddest parts of leaving the Midwest for the South…was no longer seeing black squirrels. Did you know that squirrels can run up to 20 mph?!

Happiest of weekends to you!

[abby-howard]

Spoons loves carpet-cleaning videos

(She jumps away at the end so she can get a better view)

[onsunnyside]

When the forecast says it’s gonna rain really hard, bambi starts preparing a place in the tower (kinda like her nest) for any animal she sees outside without a shelter. She tries to sneak all of them inside without anyone knowing but doesn’t know that people can see her through the security cameras. So when they are caught they all stare like 😐🙂

oh how I miss Bambi !!! Lover of animals and always eager to help🥺

“Uhm, where are you going with all of that?”

You slowly turn around, your arms full of snacks and drinks. There’s also a leaf stuck to the bottom of your pants along with some dried mud.

“…Nest.”

Steve stands from the couch, glancing out the window. “Oh, baby, are you scared of the storm again? I’ll get Bucky to make you some hot chocolate.”

You roll on the heels of your feet, carefully watching him come closer. Your heart speeds up. “Have question… birds like hot chocolate too?”

“Uh, I don’t know? Maybe the marshmallows more than the hot chocolate.” Steve smells the dried rain on you, “are you going to your nest with all of that?”

“Not my nest.” You step in front of him, blocking the hallway. “Made new…”

“Okay?” He drags out the word. “Can I come?” He already knows something is going on.

“Don’t know, made special nest…”

The elevator dings before the doors slide open, Natasha exits with Tony on her tail.

The brunet clears his throat, “if it isn’t the kidnapper.”

Steve pulls a face, “Tony.”

“No, he’s right.” Natasha can’t help but smile, “Bambi, do you have anything to confess?”

“No!” You exclaim, jumping as a packet of crackers fall to the floor. “Have done no wrong. Tony is liar, Stevie, let’s go.” You grab his arm, trying to tug him away but he stands firm, not even swaying.

Your eyes widen as the tablet is placed in his hands, the security footage already playing.

Tony tuts softly, a teasing look on his face. “Well, animal-napper would be a proper term.”

Steve stares down at the device, watching you slip in and out from window on the first floor of the compound. You do this a few times, each time you climb back through the window, the duffel bag looks heavier. He taps on the screen before footage of you tucking wild animals into a mass of blankets and pillows in one of the meeting rooms. There’s also leaves, sticks, and trails of mud and rain on the floor.

There are different creatures. Like rabbits, birds and squirrels—how did you catch those? He has no clue. The audio flows through the air, your voice softly speaking to the animals as you fuss over the blankets.

“Keep safe here… too cold and wet outside, friends can have home for little bit—will find nicer place later.” You pause, “Stevie says wild animals dangerous… but I can protect. Am very strong, know that, mister bunny?”

“Nothing to hide, huh? Where are you taking all that, nymph?”

You look between each of them, your gaze meeting Steve’s one last time before you whip around and race down the hall. Snacks and drinks fall to the ground and leave a trail behind you.

Steve is still for a moment, wincing as a jar of pickles lands on the floor, thankfully not shattering.

“Steve.”

He sighs, a fond grin on his face as he hears the door slam shut and lock. “On it.”

[jamiedc-they-them]

Clean Slate (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: A debt in your hometown comes back to haunt you and sends you and your best friend into a tailspin of credit cards, cops, running and shouting.

“We don’t have to do this.” Your older sister (not by blood) told you as she continued to drive you, passing the sign that said, “Welcome to New Orleans”. This was it, no going back.

Well, there was. But you knew how Daisy could be with dramatics.

“You didn’t have to come.” You told her, even if thankful she came.

“Of course, I was going to come with you.” She said, firmly.

“You don’t owe me anything, Daisy.” You responded with, looking away from the mirror and meeting her gaze as she turned her head to look at you for a moment before it went back to the road.

“This isn’t about debts. I know I don’t, just as much as you don’t with him.”

“I do. SHIELD fucked that up. Besides, I know what it’s like to be blindsided like that.” You were stubborn.

But so was she, “There’s more to life than just ticking off boxes for people that are never gonna fully be done with you.”

You closed your eyes as you let out a sigh through your nose.

Daisy knew a thing or two about owing people, a lot of people. But she was always one who knew that those debts would never fully be paid off. She knew it wouldn’t work; that whoever it was would never be satisfied.

Did she say any of that as she drove into where your home was? Fuck no. You were her friend, her best friend, and a younger sibling to her. She hated this but loved you. She’d go the ends of the earth for any of you; it was why she kept driving and didn’t mention any of it.  

She pulled up at what used to be your old house. It had definitely seen better days, it looked like a wreck.

“You used to live here?” She asked, looking at the dump of a place. Although, in your mind, she lived in a van, so wasn’t one to talk.

“You’re one to talk. I’ve been in that van now for what seems to be a lifetime.” You heard Daisy make a noise that was offended by what you said. She let it go, however, and let you go in and grab what you needed.

You walked into your home, being hit with a wave of nostalgia. You remembered yourself sat on the couch that was still rotting away, shoving a needle into your arm. Some would say that would be death you were putting into your body; you would call it life instead. It kept you going. It made you say “Yes, one day, I will get enough.” And yet SHIELD hadn’t given you a pay check so…fuck.

Still, you removed one of the floorboards, finding an old squirrel fund you had kept for a while. Somehow, no one had found it.

You then heard your name being called, and saw Daisy holding a phone, and an uneasy look on her face.

Your heartrate picked up as you approached her, taking the phone from her and putting it to your ear.

“There they are.” The voice said to you, and you could almost hear how glad he was to know it was you; and that you both knew where this was going to go.

“Marcus.” You said, trying to not let the fear show.

“Aye, lass.” But he could still tell how you were feeling about this, “Wee bird told me you came home. Thought I’d give my favourite customer a call. See how they’re doing.” You were surprised at how easy you found the thick Scottishness in his voice; Fitz had helped with that, of course.

You closed your eyes and took a breath, “What do you want?”

His tone went serious, “Fuck do you think, love? My money.” Of course. He didn’t give you a chance to respond, he only hung up.

You pulled the phone from your ear, turning to Daisy who was leaning her hands against the hood of the van, she rose an eyebrow.

“You can go, you know?”

She didn’t say anything, she didn’t move either, “Daisy, I’m serious. Go, I’ll meet you when I’m done.”

She spoke then, “Give me the phone.”

“Daisy –”

She moved over to you and held out her hand, “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

“Daisy –” Your voice was more serious as you gave her the phone.

“I’m just…worried about you, alright? You came back here for a reason.”

“I need to do this Daisy. I have to make it right.”

Daisy sighed, “Not alone. And besides –”

“You’re my friend, Y/N. And I’m coming with you.” She said, in her tone that meant ‘this is final’.

You had no choice but to nod, “Ok, let’s save our asses.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your first stop was a bar. It was one that had a familiar vibe to it for you. And the person you saw tending it brought more than just a familiar vibe, it brought feelings to you. She still looked the same, still with her long burgundy hair, electric blue eyes. It was like she had never changed.

Then you saw the name she had on her name tag; it was different.

There was barely anyone else in this bar. It was just you, Daisy, her, and about 2 other people who didn’t seem to care of the new company.

However, she then looked up, freezing just as you had when you saw her. The pair of you were frozen, just staring at each other.

“Y/N.” She spoke. Daisy felt the atmosphere shift from cosey and inviting, to cold and distant.

“’Madison’.” You greeted back, reading the name tag she wore.

She looked at it and chuckled, “Yeah, well, desperate times and all that. You know how Marcus is.”

You took a step towards her as she came around from behind the bar. The two of you inched closer and closer…Daisy watched on warily.

“I know he wants his money back.” You said, bluntly.

“Ah, I bet he does. After that stunt you pulled.” ‘Madison’ threw back at you.

“That was SHIELD –” You never got to finish your sentence, as ‘Madison’ had struck you on the face.

You retorted with your own. The two of you then found yourself with two arms holding each other as you both threw yourself into the bar, heads colliding with the pumps. You both groaned at your less than stellar plan.

“SHIELD picked me up! You don’t think I wanted to come back!” You yelled as she smashed a bottle on the table.

“Then why didn’t you?” She asked as she attacked you with the bottle. You jumped back, before slamming your head into hers.

“I was trying to –” She counted with a kick between your legs.

“I had to change my name because of that bastard! And you come back!” She exclaimed.

“Then why are you mad at me?!” You said, on your knees, holding between your legs.

“…Because you left, and I had no idea where you were. I thought you were dead.”  She admitted, voice going quieter.

Daisy then made herself known, putting her arm under your own and helping you up, “Why not help us? We could use an extra pair of hands?” She asked, despite her first impression of the woman.

She looked from you to Daisy and back again. She then turned to other two customers, “See those two?” Daisy nodded, still holding onto you, “They’re new. They don’t exactly know the tricks we do.” Daisy saw where this was going.

“We got it.” Daisy assured her, checking on you one more time as you had seemed to be more stable now.

“You do?” Madison seemed almost surprised.

“Trust me, I had to do my fair share of that to pay for shit.” With that, the pair of you went over to the two. You sat next to them.

It was like you’d never left; and it seemed Daisy did have a lot of experience of this. It was a simple gig really: sit next to them, pretended to be their friend, chat them up about whatever they wanted and pretended like you cared. If you couldn’t get close without them noticing, then you’d have to improvise…like Daisy was. Still, whatever worked and got you close, worked and got you close.

As you reached into the pocket and found what you were fishing for as your man had passed out, you saw Daisy deeply kissing her man as she seemed to be on autopilot with getting the card and some money out of the pocket.

She seemed to be a pro.

When the two stumbled out, the three counted up the earnings the two of you had gathered.

Was it much? No, but it was a start.

“I can take some things from here, if we can get that out of our way.” At ‘that’ Madison pointed to a camera that was watching you.

“I got that, you take what you can and then we’ll go.” Daisy said, going to probably loop the footage of you all sitting there just moments ago.

That left the two of you.

“So,” Madison started as she poured you a drink and put it on the table, “What brought you home?”

“Something happened at SHIELD. Daisy had to get away from it all. I went with.” You answered as you took a sip of your beer.

“Why?”

“I couldn’t just leave her alone. She’s looked after me all this time I’ve been there, figured I’d return the favour.”

Madison sighed, “You’re a good friend.”

“She’s an even better one.”

There was a drag in the conversation following that. The only sound being you drinking, and her checking pumps and cleaning tables.

“I’m sorry you had to change your name.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s his. Besides, always kind of hoped you’d come back.” She said, stopping what shew as doing and turning to you, a light now in her eyes.

“You did?”

She smiled, “Yeah.” You smiled too.

 Daisy had looped the footage, and the three of you drove to the French Quatre. It was still as lively as ever.

And that meant opportunity, that meant money. That meant making it.

It led you all to an ATM, with cards upon cards. It was close to midnight, and all you three were doing was trying the cards you had gotten. Putting in pins and taking out cash.

You ran out of yet another establishment, this time chased by guards. As you ran, you did see Daisy relax a little, seemed she had gotten something out of this too.

Your feet slammed against the pavement, but you still heard your chasers. Daisy quaked up to the roof, while you and Madison dove right into a dark alley way, just around a corner from where your foes were coming from.

You had lost them.          

Daisy came down to join you. And, for once, the three of you laughed. You checked that the coast was clear one more time, before making your way to the ATM.

You did it, you somehow had just about enough. Daisy gave you a pat on the shoulder, while Madison gave you a peck on the cheek. You missed Daisy’s smile slip just for a second before it was back.

You then got out your phone, dialling the number that had called you.

Marcus answered almost immediately, “What?”

“I got it.” You said, proud of your actions.

He barked out a laugh, “Aye, you did? Well fan-fucking-tastic. Only, you daft cunt, you made a ruck doing it! You got coppers and what not looking for you. Aye, and little ol’ Jenny somehow come back to life, aye? I guess then, if you’re so fucking good at your job, you’d pay off her’s too, eh? See you at 3.” With that, he hung up.

Your smile was gone, “What is it? What’s wrong?” Daisy asked, concern now in her gaze and tone.

“He knows you’re alive.” You said, looking to Madison, who paled, “And he wants your share of the load.” She gulped.

Fuck.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How much do you owe him?” Daisy asked as the three of you sat in Daisy’s van.

“Between us, or separate?” You asked, pointing between yourself and Madison.

“I guess separate.” Daisy answered.

You looked at Madison, the pair of your quickly doing some mental math in your head, “Well, we’ve gotten mine.” You reminded Daisy. She nodded at the answer.

“About 5 grand.” She then looked to Madison.

Finally, Madison answered, “About $36,200 between us.”

Daisy’s eyes widened, “What?!” She sounded like it should be a shriek but was a whisper instead.

“There was a deal. One we did before Y/N got picked up by your lot. Quite a big load of women coming in.” Madison looked to you.

You knew what she wanted; and so, you continued the tale, “We didn’t let it happen. Then SHIELD came and got me. And Madison here…well.” You knew what she did.

“What’d she does?” Daisy pushed.

“Went off grid. New name, same place. Safest place from a Whale is inside its own belly, after all.” Madison seemingly decided to give just enough information.

And it seemed to be enough for Daisy, “So, how long do we have?” She asked.

“With Marcus? He said a few hours –”

“That’s not long enough.” Daisy argued.

“It would’ve been longer if I wasn’t here.” Madison looked down a bit as she said that, like a wounded animal. You grabbed her hand, rubbing your thumb on her knuckles. She looked at you but couldn’t manage a smile.

“Ok. So, we can’t get out without being spotted, and we can’t get the money – well, that amount of money, without getting seen. So, what’s the plan guys?” As you said that, you all ducked down as you heard a cop car go past. Its sirens were blaring as it raced past, so you knew it wasn’t for you; still, couldn’t be too careful.

When it passed, you all slowly got back up, the lights from the street being your only source of light through Daisy’s curtained windows.

Ok, maybe you were starting to get an appreciation for the van life after all.

Still, you had to get the money. You had to have a clean slate. You had to get Madison out of this life.

You looked at Daisy, and she saw that you genuinely cared for Madison. And, despite her first thoughts on the girl, she had grown on her. She saw the light she brought to your eyes.

It was the same way Lincoln brought that same kind of light to her life.

She saw you look out the window, you had a face she had seen before; if this was any other time, she’d go along with whatever you were going to say.

Here, not so much.

“Y/N –” Her tone was tense, there was an edge to it. There was a warning.

“You two stay here and –”

“No!”

“Hell no!” the two women exclaimed in sync. Daisy the former and Madison the latter.

“Y/N, you can’t just –”

“Would you rather we all go out together and risk getting caught? Or splitting up? Look, Daisy, I’m sorry I dragged you into this, ok? Really, I am. But we don’t have a lot of time.” You said as you got a pistol out of your bag.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! The hell are you planning?” Daisy asked, grabbing the pistol and lowering it.

“Desperate time and measures.” You justified it as, putting the pistol in your back pocket, “Look, do you want to the bank, or am I taking it? There’s only three options we have here in the short space of time; and none of them good.”

You then looked to Madison, “I got the streets. Regular and all that.” You nodded, that left Daisy with another option.

She didn’t look pleased, “I’m doing the bank job,” She said, ripping the pistol from you and putting it in her back pocket instead, “You go to the bars we haven’t gotten before. But remember, low profile.” She warned, pointing a finger at both of you.

God, she seemed destined to always play big sister.

You gave her a mock salute, “You’re about to rob a bank, Daisy.”

“Yeah, but I have a name to go with that. If we get too much, we’ll use what we have left to help us against the Watchdogs.” Daisy said, getting out the back of the van before you could argue any further.

You and Madison looked at each other, a silent, “Be careful” being exchanged between you both. You shared one more kiss, before you went your separate ways.

 There was one more bar you hadn’t hit yet. It was a packed one, despite the time it was.

Still, you entered, looking for any sort of prey. Your eyes scanned the crowds, mainly large crowds in the area. Well, that could work in your advantage, but it could also be a hindrance.

Still, you went with “fuck it.” And walked further in, trying not to look like a desperate loser.

Your hand went into one pocket, and you got as far as the car, when a hand grabbed yours: a friend of his. He shook his head, and you put it back. He didn’t tell his friend, he only looked at you with bitter hatred.

That was enough of an arse kicking on its own.

So, no money, and arse kicking and a bar fight later and you were out. You made your way over to the van, seeing Daisy sat in the van, but laying low.

You opened the van back door, only to be punched in the face. Whoever had done that – not Daisy – had taken off running. As you readjusted yourself, your heartbeat rose.

They had the bag.

You got up, not caring about being careful anymore. Desperation ran through you.

You pulled the pistol, running after someone who would – whether they meant to or not – cause your death.

You pulled the trigger, and they went down. You ran, cars stopping and some screeching to a halt. You grabbed the bag the person had. You opened it –

And nothing was inside.

You then heard a van honk, and yours came careening around the corner. It stopped just next to you, “Get in!” Daisy called, with Madison pulling the side door open.

You were in, and you were gone the next moment.

 Either no one had called the cops on you, or they weren’t doing as good as you thought they were. You had gone back to Madison’s bar, and the three of you sat in it; you stared at what you had managed to garner as a three –

“$2,832. And it’s…” Daisy checked her phone, “2:51 am.” Her words came out slower, as she realised how fucked you guys were.

You stood up and started pacing, “I’m sorry, I should never have come back.”

Madison stood up, going to you and holding your hands in your own, “Hey, you know Marcus. Whatever you bring him, ain’t enough. He’d find a way to bleed you dry just like those cards, but he’d keep going,” She grabbed your shoulders, “Y/N, look at me,” You did so, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think…even if we got what he wanted, that it’d be enough. I mean, look at me; I had to change my name and what not. He just works people until they get shot, then calls it off.”

You looked at Madison, and you knew; you knew that she was right. You then looked to Daisy, “Put what we got in the van.”

She tilted her head in a questioning manner, “What you thinking?” She asked, as she pooled all the money with arm and watched it all fall into a bag.

For once, it was almost like old times, with that look on your face returning; and she supported it this time.

It was a face that told her you had a plan.

“We take that money, split it between us. He gets none of it.” You said, looking at your friends and seeing if they’d disagree. They shared a look and nodded in sync.

Ok then, here you went.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daisy had taken the van away a bit, hiding it in a different location that wouldn’t be as easily accessible.

You all waited as the time ticked down. If anything, it seemed to slow down.

Still, after what seemed like 2 hours – but what was really 3 minutes – it was time. The clock silent struck 3.

And, right on time, he entered the bar. He hadn’t really changed, it seemed. Still an old man with a moustache that was well kept but everything else on him – clothing, hair, jewellery – was not.

“So, I’m here. Where the fuck is my money, lass?” He asked.

“We don’t have it. And, even if we did, you wouldn’t get a cent.” You said, standing tall.

He whistled, “Aye? And where’d all this backbone come from then, eh? Because last time we called, you were willing to suck my fucking dick dry to make amends. Now, here you are, telling me I’m not allowed to have my own fucking money?” His temper was rising.

“You wouldn’t be happy with that though, would you?” Daisy asked from where she stood, to your right and leaning against one of the backrests.

Marcus finally looked at her. He looked at a TV that wasn’t on, then back down to her. From her to the tv, from the tv to her.

“You must be the one on the telly, Quake? Or whatever the fuck they call you now?”

Daisy just held his stare.

“This ain’t your fight, lass. Just between me and them two cunts and what they owe, me.” He said, looking at you and clenching his teeth together at the last part of the sentence.

“It is my fight, when it involves my friends.” She said firmly, moving away from the rest and to your side, fists clenched.

Marcus let out what seemed to be a scoff and a laugh all in one; and none having good connotations with them, “Loyal. I’ll give you that. Even if, in this case, not going to pay off the way you want.” He warned her.

The front door opened, with two of his goons coming in. Madison barely had time to turn before she was pinned against her bar.

“Hey –” Daisy said, going to step in, when Marcus waggled his finger.

“Told you.” He said, in a sing song kind of voice.

“Run.” Daisy advised, even pushing you in that direction.

You did, as fast as you could up the stairs to the toilets.

Marcus passed Daisy, “I so much as feel this building shake, and I will fucking kill you all, alright?” He threatened, before coming after you.

You found yourself in one of the cubicles, “You know, Y/N. I always wondered where you went. Then a man by the name of Phil Coulson comes knocking at my door, asking about an agent Y/N and Johnson. Course, I told them the truth…” As he spoked, you saw his feet stop by a cubicle and heard the door be booted open, “That I knew nothing of you. To be honest, thought you were dead. Would’ve been happy with that. Then you show up, and you left me no choice,” He kicked another open; you had nowhere to go, “But, maybe…maybe I can amend that now.” He booted in your door. And, despite your efforts and struggled, he slammed you into the sink. As you saw your own reflection, a cord went around your neck and he hoisted you up into the air before your feet touched the floor, but you were on tiptoes.

In his voice, there was no joy, “Don’t fight this, Y/N. Don’t fight it. This’ll fix everything.”

The door burst open, but he grabbed a pistol and fired at the entrance, “Take one more fucking step and I’ll blow their fucking –” He didn’t get to finish, as you hit him in the guy with your elbow. The cord went from your neck, and you hit him with your head and sent him back.

Madison was next, slamming him in the fist with her fist. As he spun around with the pistol, Daisy quaked it away, before quaking him into the wall. He slumped down.

The three of your shared a look.

Madison had a car – stolen of course – but a car and a home. The three of you carried Marcus’ body down the stairs and outside to the car. You slammed the boot lid closed as the three of you shared a look.

You looked to Madison, pulling her into a hug and putting your chin on her shoulder. You pulled away, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She said with a smile, but it was a sad one.

Daisy then hugged her next, “Thank you for your help.”

“Y/N is my…. friend, too. I’ll get Marcus here somewhere he belongs, then I’ll get a new ride. Heard there’s some good ones moving in.”

You pulled out a key in your back pocket, “Here,” You said, throwing it to Madison, “It’s yours.”

She looked from the key to you, “You serious?” She asked, excitement growing in her tone.

“Yeah. You’re my friend, might as well pay off the debt I can, huh?” She laughed, before hugging you again in thanks. She gave your cheek a kiss, before going to the car and driving off.

 You and Daisy saw the “Thank you for visiting New Orleans!” sign as you drove away. Your phone blinked with a text. Looking at it, you saw it to be Madison: “He’s with the NOPD now :D” The text read.

You looked to Daisy, showing it to her.

She smiled, before moving her hand over to yours and squeezing it and then going back to the wheel.

You were leaving your home, now in your new one for the time being.

But one thing you knew for sure; you had a clean slate. Just not in the way you would’ve expected.

[f4liveblogarchives]

Fantastic Four Vol 1 #155 & #156

Wed Jul 31 2019 [02:56 PM] Wack'd: Thus continues the reign of Len Wein [02:58 PM] Wack'd: You know, you really didn't need to specify South America and Africa! Most places have some sort of wilderness! Also the idea that there are wild places untouched by man that you can safely make out as savage is basically bullshit but if it needed to be that for the "harder to tell which ones are the animals" joke Antarctica is a safe bet. Or the ocean

[02:58 PM] Wack'd: Also jesus I know only one of them is black but calling them animals is still a real bad look [02:59 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, Reed stops Ben from doing something stupid so he just does his usual "twists up a piece of metal public property to prove a point" shtick and moves on [03:00 PM] Wack'd: And then the Silver Surfer attacks! [03:00 PM] Bocaj: Analogizing criminals to animals is some real bad tough on crime nonsense [03:01 PM] Wack'd: Yes [03:02 PM] Wack'd: Calling it: someone has kidnapped Alicia to blackmail Norrin into attacking

[03:04 PM] Bocaj: "How many times do we have to go through this, man?" "A LOT I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS BENJAMIN GRIM" [03:04 PM] Wack'd: So Norrin tries to fly through Galactus' barrier again and his power gets drained so he crash lands in Eastern Europe, where he sees a poster declaring the area's queen to be SHALLA BAL! [03:04 PM] Bocaj: Hm [03:04 PM] Bocaj: HMMM [03:04 PM] Bocaj: HMMMMMMMMMM [03:04 PM] Bocaj: I might remember something but then again I might not [03:05 PM] Bocaj: I can say for certain that Norrin Radd constantly has too many feelings [03:05 PM] Wack'd: So it turns out Norrin landed in Latveria [03:05 PM] Wack'd: And Shalla married Doom [03:06 PM] Wack'd: Doom wiped her memory of Norrin and agreed to undo all he had done and release her if Norrin--well, guess [03:06 PM] Bocaj: Ffs [03:06 PM] Bocaj: Doom needs to stop marrying amnesiac women [03:07 PM] Wack'd: It's his fetish [03:07 PM] Bocaj: Kinkshaming [03:08 PM] Wack'd: Not sure what I like more, Doom's expression, or the way Norrin appears to have been stickered onto the panel

[03:08 PM] Wack'd: A rare instance where the expressive mask actually works [03:10 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, it cliffhangers into Surfer resuming his attack, begging for forgiveness

Fri Aug 9 2019 [07:01 PM] Wack'd: DOOM: MASTER OF SUBTLETY

[07:02 PM] Umbramatic: Subtlety is for lesser beings than DOOM [07:03 PM] Bocaj: Where do villains get hero chessboards? [07:03 PM] Wack'd: Where do you think Alicia gets so much money sculpting tiny superhero statues? [07:03 PM] Bocaj: IT ALL MAKES SENSE! [07:04 PM] Wack'd: Anyway remember that time Doom stole Norrin's powers? Doom has quietly retconned his memories so that, instead of being tricked into hitting the anti-Surfer field around Earth like a bird on a windshield, he simply decided that having superpowers didn't suit him and gave them back [07:04 PM] maxwellelvis: You love that retcon, don't you? [07:04 PM] Bocaj: Wait so Doom retconning his own memories is actually a storied historied thing he do and not just a squirrel girl jape? [07:04 PM] maxwellelvis: The "Doom mentally rewrites all his defeats in his head" one? [07:05 PM] Wack'd:

[07:05 PM] Wack'd: He's not owned! He's not owned! [07:05 PM] Umbramatic: Reed's ass tho [07:06 PM] Bocaj: That's not America's ass [07:06 PM] Umbramatic: nope [07:06 PM] Wack'd: Alicia touches all the butts. For art [07:06 PM] Bocaj: I appreciate her sacrifice [07:07 PM] Wack'd: Anyway turns out Doom is watching footage of last issue and is pissed off that Norrin refused to kill [07:07 PM] Wack'd: "How dare you weigh the pains of hell against the wrath of Doom?" is his reaction [07:09 PM] Bocaj: Wow [07:09 PM] Bocaj: That’s a really god bad guy line [07:09 PM] Bocaj: Good [07:09 PM] Wack'd: So Norrin brings Reed, Johnny, Ben, and Medusa back to Doom, "hypnotized", as Doom gives him shit for not doing a murder [07:11 PM] Wack'd: Mostly he's just teed off because he has all of this godly power and refuses to use it, but Norrin argues that restraint is far more a show of power than Doom's definition--"an armored hand across a quivering lip" [07:12 PM] maxwellelvis: That's another really good line [07:13 PM] Wack'd: Anyway there's a real quick power-cosmic-vs-sorcery pissing match before the two agree they're evenly matched and Doom has Norrin put Reed, Johnny, Ben, and Medusa in fet--er, torture devices

[07:14 PM] Umbramatic: kinky [07:14 PM] Bocaj: Gonna kinkshame Doom [07:14 PM] maxwellelvis: 'Course, since this seems to still be pretty early in the issue and the Surfer created these devices, I assume he's got some backdoor or something up his non-existent sleeves. [07:15 PM] Wack'd: Doom built these, he's just complimenting Norrin on getting them in the restraints [07:15 PM] maxwellelvis: Ahh [07:15 PM] Wack'd: Norrin: “What have you done to Shalla-Bal, that she can watch such cruelty in abject silence? And worse: what has an uncaring world done to you that you could've conceived it?” [07:15 PM] Bocaj: “Devil took my mom” [07:15 PM] maxwellelvis: That's the Surfer we know and love. Ready to wax philosophical at the drop of a hat. [07:15 PM] maxwellelvis: "My dad was killed because he couldn't doctor good enough" [07:17 PM] Wack'd: So Ben has Johnny swing his birdcage over to him so he can rip it open [07:18 PM] Wack'd: You know, like when there's evil opposites--just gotta get everyone to swap dance partners. Or torture partners [07:18 PM] Wack'd: Johnny uses a...piece of wood that was lying around? To smash Reed's device open [07:19 PM] Wack'd: And then Reed saves Ben and Medusa [07:20 PM] Wack'd: Then they go fight some robots and speculate that, well, none of this is really Doom's best work [07:20 PM] Wack'd: Let's not forget he once managed to keep them captive for like six issues [07:20 PM] Wack'd: So he's probably phoning it in, which means worse stuff later [07:20 PM] Umbramatic: oh my [07:21 PM] Wack'd: hahahahahaha

[07:21 PM] Wack'd: "Oh yeah those were my bad old robots, thanks for taking care of that for me" [07:22 PM] Umbramatic: ah, doom [07:24 PM] Wack'd: So it turns out Doom is just buying time so he can use a new machine to siphon off Norrin's,power to create a *new* Surfer. A Herald of Doom, if you will, which Doom doesn't, but he should [07:25 PM] Bocaj: He does [07:25 PM] Bocaj: Later [07:25 PM] Bocaj: In the 2018 run

[theinvisiblespoon]

Front of a Building - Chapter 5: You Waited Smiling For This

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Yeah, I know, I know, it’s been five-ever. And it’s 1:30am EST. But here’s the thing; I made an outline. That’s when you know you’re screwed. Have fun! :)  Chapter title is from the song “burned out” by dodie. It’s cool. She’s cool. 

Word count: 1938 

Trigger warnings: insanity, manipulation, alcohol mention, fear, anger, surgery and gunshot mention, gun mention, discussion of murder (wkm), brief allusion to violence. It’s gonna be bad in the next one, too.

Ego Manor had three floors. The top floor only held Dark and Wilford. The second floor held the kitchen, storage closets, bathrooms, and the rooms of Bing, the Jims, King of the Squirrels, Bim Trimmer, Dr. Iplier, Chef Iplier, and Silver Shepherd. The first floor held a living room, a library, a recording studio, a clinic, bathrooms and the rooms of Host, Google, Ed Edger, and Yandereplier. It was less of a “manor” and more of a “really big house”, but everyone, if not lived together, existed together.

Dr. Iplier was helping Wilford Warfstache up the stairs to his room after the incident that had just occurred in the kitchen. It left him with more questions than answers, but at least he knew not to ask Wilford about this “William” guy again. He couldn’t say that he didn’t want to try again, however. He needed to know what was happening. And if the cost was the rest of Wilford’s sanity…Dr. Iplier glanced at his charge, who was mumbling softly, barely conscious. The doctor shook his head; what was he thinking? He couldn't do that to another ego, much less one of the oldest. But there was the thing — according to the Host, Wilford and Dark weren't the oldest. According to the Host, it was the Jims, of all people. How much did the Host know? That weirdo seemed to understand more than he was letting on.

"No, hey there, we're going this way, Wilford," he urged, turning the ego away from the banister.

"…it's my fault…" he stumbled, but Dr. Iplier caught him before anything else could happen. "…didn't mean to, I swear…"

The doctor searched Wilford's eyes, but they remained as unfocused as ever. "It's…okay, Wilford. It's okay. Just come with me, alright?"

He said something indistinguishable, and Dr. Iplier took that as a confirmation. As they struggled down the hallway and into Wilford's room, the doctor couldn't help but peek at the door to Dark's room. Three weeks had passed since, for lack of better words, his surgery. Wilford lurched forward before the doctor could get a longer look.

"Alright, alright, come on, in bed, let's go…" The Host had really outdone himself; Warfstache was utterly out of it. With one last push, Wilford fell into his bed, dazed and confused. He muttered something again, but it was barely audible.

"What was that?" Dr. Iplier asked, leaning in.

"…don't leave me here. Don't…" Wilford's face scrunched up at some unseen torment.

"Wilford, it's fine. I'll stay if you need—"

"…please, you're all I have left. I'm sorry, don't leave me, don't…" Wilford finally trailed off, sound asleep.

The doctor straightened up, confusion evident. Who was Wilford talking to? Who was William? What the hell was going on?

He leaned back, rubbing his face and calming his breathing. He needed…he needed coffee, he thought. He needed a drink, he tried not to think. Intent on making his way to the kitchen, he stepped out of Wilford's room, but then stopped in the middle of the hallway. Slowly, he turned to the next door down. Did he dare check on Dark? Everyone avoided the top floor when possible, and no one ever went within five feet of Dark's bedroom.

There were three steps between him and the door. Reluctantly, but fueled by curiosity and obligation, he took one of them. What are you so afraid of? He took the second. It's just a door. Don't be so paranoid. He took the last and raised his hand, but before he could knock, he heard a sharp ringing noise coming from directly behind him. Whirling around, he locked eyes with Dark himself.

"D-dark! I didn't see—"

"Clearly."

"I was j-just, uh, bringing Wilford up, and—"

Dark rolled his eyes and pushed past the doctor, reaching for the handle.

"Wait!" Dr. Iplier caught Dark's arm, who stilled. Slowly, Dark turned to stare at the doctor. He said nothing, but the ringing grew and his eyes flashed dangerously. Dr. Iplier let go and took a reflexive step back.

"What?" Dark asked through gritted teeth.

Dr. Iplier paused. Get out, his mind screamed at him. He ignored it. "Dark, are you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's been three weeks since anyone's seen you, and well, you were shot—"

Dark's aura cracked, and he muttered something under his breath as he turned the handle. "Leave me the hell alone," he warned over his shoulder, and then the door slammed shut in Dr. Iplier's face.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, but he was still on edge. Before the door had shut, he had gotten a glimpse of the room beyond. It was completely torn apart; splintered wood from some type of furniture was scattered in a corner, the bed was overturned, the mirror was broken, and the lamp was laying on the ground. However, there was one thing left untouched. Not only was it intact, it was covered in dust — completely undisturbed. The doctor shut his eyes, trying to remember.

A pipe? No, something else. Long, with a handle…a silver handle. Not a pipe. A cane.

-oOo-

The Jims were an odd pair. They were always out and about, reporting on one thing or another. No one disturbed them — the Jims were best left to their own devices, doing…whatever they did. As a result of their constant absence, their room was more often than not empty. So, the next day, Dr. Iplier found it easy to slip into their shared bedroom when no one was looking.

The oldest egos, huh?

He had reasoned that there was no extracting any helpful or reliable information from the pair, but as they recorded nearly every event remotely interesting in their lives, their tapes might tell a different story. Looking at the boxes upon boxes of VHS tapes spilling out from the open closet, however, Dr. Iplier wished he could go back to his office and drop this entire thing. Groaning, he settled himself onto the floor and pulled a box towards him.

Title after title previewed nothing but useless footage. He pushed aside a saga of sand castle related film to find a tape labeled "JELLY BEANS?!" An entire box told the thrilling tale of buying furniture at IKEA, and another revealed the secret conspiracy of oceans. After an agonizing two hours later, he was still finding nothing. Each title was more stupid than the last: "WRAPPING PAPER FIASCO!", "BOOKS: THE MOVIE", "CRAYON CANON!!", "CORPSE ABDUCTION?", "BIRDS IN TREES!" — wait. Corpse abduction? Since when was there a death? Dr. Iplier picked up a stack of VHS tapes held together by string and reread the first one again. No, that definitely said "corpse abduction". He sat up straighter and turned the stack to see the rest of the titles. They read "SUSPECT WITH A SHOOTY?!", "DEMONS JIM, DEMONS!!" and "DUMMY JIM REENACTS GRISLY SCENE!" This had to be what he was looking for. Excitement flooded through him, and he eagerly undid the string, pulling out the first tape. He stood up (ow, that did not feel good), stepped over his haphazardly made piles, and slid the tape into the TV next to the closet.

The scene opened up on a shot of a manor. Words flashed across the screen: "Breaking News: Markiplier Manor."

Mark has never owned a manor.

Someone was shouting.

"Jim! Jim!" The camera panned to a shot of Jim, gesturing at his the cameraman — his brother. "Jim, come on! I've got the shot!"

When was this made? Even for a VHS, this thing was old. He glanced down at the other tapes in his hand, but the date was either not marked or faded completely. He frowned and went back to watching the TV. A detective had just come into view.

The Jims had been spotted. The detective was now yelling from out of frame. "Hey! Who the hell are you? You listen, this is a crime scene!"

Crime scene? Not only was there a manor that had never been known to exist, but a crime had been committed there?

The Jims were sneaking into the room. The reporter gestured at an outline of a body, and soon after he held up a gun.

"This is profound, in the least," He was saying.

You got that right.

The tape ended in static. The excitement of success was gone, and Dr. Iplier was once again left with more questions than answers.

In went the second tape; except for more of the detective being shown, nothing helpful. In went the third; nothing helpful was in this tape either. He had begun to give up hope when the fourth tape came into view. The Jims were making their way into a room full of evidence. Dr. Iplier fumbled for the remote but finally managed to hit the pause button.

"Don't trust the Seer," he read aloud. The Seer? Who is the Seer?

He continued the tape, starting and stopping to read parts of the scraps of paper littered across the walls and on the desk.

"…safari hunt gone wrong…mayor in legal trouble…" There were (what he guessed to be) names beneath pictures of people, but he couldn't read them. "Fallen movie star…police remain clueless following celebrity death…celebrity actor in cahoots with beloved mayor…" So the movie star — the celebrity — died, and this guy was involved with a corrupt mayor? "…the colonel did it. The colonel did it, the colonel did it, the colonel…"

He should feel excited for knowing more now, shouldn't he? Why, then, did it feel like being in the eye of a storm?

He let his mind wander over the evidence he just been given, the tape falling into static. Dr. Iplier was lost in thought when he heard the pounding of footsteps in the hall.

"We got it, Jim! We got the shot! Jim is going to be so—" Jim skidded to a halt, his brother nearly running straight into him camera-first. "What are you doing here?"

The doctor was about to retort back when he realized this wasn't his own room. "Uh," is what he settled on instead.

"Hey! Those are our tapes!"

"Oh, I was just—" he clumsily hid the ones he was holding behind his back, but he was saved the trouble of finishing his statement by the cameraman gesturing at the other Jim. He was hovering over a half-empty box Dr. Iplier had stopped looking through. Reporter Jim peered over his brother's shoulder. "Jim, look at that!"

The camera was already pointing at the box, so the Jim holding said camera compensated by zooming in further.

"Have you ever seen those tapes before, Jim?" Jim held up his mic to the box as if expecting it to answer.

"Tapes? What tapes?" Dr. Iplier stood and gazed into the box, too. Four tapes stood out from the rest, the black cover contrasting against its white title. The doctor reached in and picked them up. "Who Killed Markiplier?" he spoke aloud. He hadn't seen these before. Why didn't he see these before?

"Hey!" Jim protested. "Those are ours!"

"You just said you had never seen—"

CRASH!

All three of them froze, staring at each other in the tense silence. The silence broke, and Reporter Jim was the first out of the room, followed by his brother with Dr. Iplier close at his heels. They burst into the kitchen together, looking wildly around for the source of the noise. Their eyes locked onto the Host.

He was on the floor, clutching his throat, with Google towering above him.

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Taglists: 

Everything: @abbaquiche @ironwoman359 @lemme-talk-to-ya-plants @pain-in-my-aesthetic @princessbelix @punknerdmusings @virgil-loves-princey 

Front of a Building: @darkfixation @forgottenbehindtheinternet @inarticulate-screaming @i-am-not-anon @logicalfixation @nammies @pleaseletthisjimbetaken@readeatfightlove13 @sweetsweetfanfics @theashofwkm @the-asexual-reaper 

As always, if you want to be taken on or off a taglist, just let me know!

[sussex-nature-lover]

Wednesday 18th November 2020

Wakey Wakey

I saw this photo on Twitter yesterday. Not sure what time it was taken but it’s entitled ‘Morning Winter Sky over Tunbridge Wells’ - pretty impressive no?

Not quite as impressive colour wise but very bright indeed, here’s this morning’s dazzler when I opened our curtains. It was quite different from Ms NW tE’s early morning view today...

Photo Credit: our London Correspondent Ms Nature Watch The Elder

Thinking of water, I’m just watching Billy Bailey on The One Show (BBC1) and it’s an absolutely charming film shot on The River Thames. He’s paddle boarding, after showing footage of people who’re getting stow away seals climbing up on their paddle boards for a lift.  It was a highlight of our London weekend last year when we saw a seal on the Thames - ours was much further in to the city. For more feel good, does anyone watch Great Canal Journeys on Channel 4 (UK) Initially featuring Timothy West and his wife, Prunella Scales, the latest series is now captained by Sheila Hancock and her friend Gyles Brandreth. I have to say, I’m left stunned by how fit and able Sheila is at 87. She’s a splendid recruit to canal navigation as well.

In my mind I’d absolutely love canal boating. Hmm, not totally sure about the hard work and the narrow bed aspect, let alone the err ‘facilities’ but it’s a bit of a pipe dream. Canals seem so romantic somehow, well, restored ones do. They ‘cut’ (colloquial term) through both cities and rural areas in the most practical manner and often the most industrial areas sit cheek by jowl with nature. There’s peace and quiet but also camaraderie, at least in my mind there is.

In reality I’m much better suited to being an armchair observer. Let’s say no more about my ridiculous delusions.

The Canal River Trust

No water birds here at all, but lots of activity in and over the woods where the Crows (no relation) have been extremely busy this past few mornings. Still not sure what they’re up to. I zoomed in close on one - I watched it for ages and was struck how the few remaining leaves glistened like gold coins in the sunshine.

Carrion Crow:

Behaviour: generally quite solitary. This is the corvid you are most likely to see visiting your garden.

There were plenty of Rooks active as well

Behaviour: a very sociable species so you’re unlikely to see a rook on its own. Rooks build their nests right at the tops of trees, in noisy groups known as rookeries. You are unlikely to miss them!

No noise from lately, not like earlier in the year when they’re constantly squawking ‘Rate My Baby?’  

* ask for details

BIRD WATCH:

Other than the above, the garden’s finally going quiet. The Squirrels and Rabbits seem to be keeping themselves to themselves close to the wood and the visitors to the feeders are the old faithfuls - numerous Blue, Great, Coal and Marsh Tits with the fly by feed from Scout and the Long Tailed Tits. Robin, Nuthatch and Great Spotted Woodpeckers are pretty constant all through the day. Stock Dove, Wood Pigeon and Blackbirds come, but not so much and the solitary Magpie is very shy and not here that often. The Pheasants and Goldfinch haven’t been here and they’re missed.

Poppy for Remembrance 

(not my photo)

♦ bold type navigates to an outside link not affiliated to this blog

[shirlleycoyle]

The YouTubers Keeping Pets Entertained During the Pandemic

Since the pandemic started, I've been using YouTube far more than I used to. Workout routines, sewing tutorials, mindless feel-good clips of babies hugging animals: YouTube has all of these in abundance. But all of these pale in comparison to the type of video I put on most frequently. In our house, kitty TV reigns supreme.

YouTube is filled with content aimed at dogs, cats, and their owners. The varieties are endless. Birds alight at a feeder, a GoPro hidden nearby to record their comings and goings. An invisible hand drags a string toy back and forth. Fish in a koi pond bobble to the surface of a pond. A camera moves smoothly through a park, capturing trees and squirrels. These videos are long, often over four hours, and the most popular ones have millions of views. I put on at least one video per day, which amounts to, at minimum, 28 hours of pet TV per week. Most YouTubers would kill for those numbers.

It wasn't always like this. But one of our cats, Graymalkin, got much more attached and energetic when I started staying home all the time. He used to sleep during the day, while I was at grad school. Then, in the mornings and evenings, he'd sit on my lap and purr as I worked. In the spring, he lost his tiny mind. He spent all day zooming around the apartment, mrrrring and chirping for attention. He begged for treats. He planted himself on my keyboard. He constantly fought my partner for control of his gaming chair.

Greymalkin the Cat, watching someone attempting to play Control / photo by author

One afternoon in July, I searched "cat tv" on the advice of a friend. Maybe some videos of birds or squirrels would take Gray's mind off the gamer chair. And it worked, at least for a little bit: Graymalkin hopped up on the TV stand and parked himself as close to the TV as he could. In his glassy, green eyes were reflections of hummingbirds. When he was most engaged, he reached up to bat at the screen with his weird little cat-hands.

After about five minutes, he curled up in my lap, bored. But I wasn’t bored. After the video ended, I put on another. And another. There were so many videos for cats and dogs. I sat on the couch, watching Graymalkin watch TV.

For both of us, it was a portal into the strange, sometimes eerie world of The Algorithm. In one video, an enormous cockroach skittered across the screen, freaking us out. In another, an otherwise tranquil recording of a bird fountain, a Minion toy loomed ominously above the birds. Every few minutes, the footage would jump cut to a slightly different angle, making it look like the Minion teleported a few inches to the left or right. Eventually, I selected so many videos from Japanese creators that YouTube, confused, started serving me ads in Japanese. While I tried to follow the plotlines of commercials in a language I don't speak, Graymalkin swished his tail, impatient for images that triggered his hunting instinct.

A still frame from a video by TV BINI

No video captivated his attention for more than a few minutes, but for those minutes, he was rapt. Sometimes I caught him staring at the screen even if it was switched off, as if he was trying to suss out the TV’s inner workings.

Eventually I noticed the viewer counts on the cat videos: hundreds of thousands, sometimes even millions, of views. Many of the videos came from the same channels, and these top channels were monetizing their content by running ads. How much money, I wondered, were these creators making from pet TV? Had they stumbled upon success by accident, or had they worked hard to win the chaotic gamble of making money through YouTube? And were animals really watching these videos for hours at a time?

Identifying the inner workings of the pet TV biz became an obsession. I wanted to know more about the people who had figured out this YouTube niche, harnessing the power of SEO plus the fretting of helicopter pet parents for ad revenue. So I reached out to two YouTube creators: entrepreneur Amman Ahmed, the founder of Music for Pets (which includes the YouTube channels RelaxMyDog and RelaxMyCat), and Bini, who runs TV BINI.

RelaxMyDog and RelaxMyCat both post new videos almost every day. No two are the same, but many follow a similar formula. The first element is either still photos or slow footage of expansive natural landscapes, sometimes with wild animals in the background. The second element is slow, soothing piano or strings, the kind of music you’d hear at an upscale spa. The audio loops infinitely and the video plays on and on, sometimes for up to fifteen hours.

Ahmed really is a savvy businessman who saw an opportunity, then threw everything he had at dominating it. Though RelaxMyDog now has 587,000 subscribers and RelaxMyCat has 472,000, they started out much smaller. “I self-funded it, had no investors. I 100% owned the company. It's luckily, over the years, got bigger and bigger,” Ahmed said, video-chatting me from his temporary home in Kiev. Music for Pets is headquartered in Manchester, in the UK, but Ahmed travels frequently for work. He spent the beginning of 2020 in Brooklyn, but then saw the COVID-19 writing on the wall and left the country. Fortunately, Ahmed told me, many of Music For Pets’ fifteen employees – including filmmakers in Indonesia, South Africa, and Romania – work remotely. Music For Pets is a complex operation, with lots of cogs and levers. Luckily, Ahmed can make sure all those cogs are turning properly from anywhere in the world.

In 2012, Music for Pets was just Ahmed and his new business partner, a music producer from El Salvador named Ricardo Henriquez. Ahmed had wanted to start a business centered around relaxing music for people, and in searching a freelancing website for music producers, stumbled across Henriquez. Henriquez's dog suffered from anxiety, and so Henriquez and Ahmed wondered if calming music would work just as well on dogs as it did on people.

A still from from a Relax My Dog video

Eight years later, Music For Pets makes much more than just music. There's a subscription service, which allows users to play ad-free videos for $4.99 a month. They even have a mobile app, called Games for Cats, that lets cats bat at fish and bugs on a smartphone screen. “In 2019, l think twenty million cats and dogs around the world consumed content on RelaxMyDog and RelaxMyCat,” said Ahmed. Music For Pets’ viewership numbers have hit an all-time high in 2020, and Ahmed thinks that worldwide COVID-19 quarantines are at least partially responsible. Pet owners who have started working from home are disrupting their animals’ routines, potentially causing anxiety. “Cats are looking at their owners like, ‘Why are you still here?’” he said. Another possible explanation for Music For Pets’ popularity is that people find the videos soothing. “Our content is now becoming more designed for humans and pets to watch together,” Ahmed told me. Music For Pets ran a survey that asked viewers if, during quarantine, they were watching RelaxMyDog alongside their pets. 87% of respondents said yes.

It’s easy for me to see – and sense – the human appeal. Focusing on a sunlit beach and mellow music is exactly what my meditation app asks me to do. I seem to get more out of these videos than Graymalkin, who wanders away after he realizes he can’t actually commit any bird murders. And I am not the only one who feels this way, according to Ahmed. “We see a lot of comments where people are like, ‘Look, I don't have a dog. I enjoy watching this while I'm high,” he said. But motivations notwithstanding, enough viewers have clicked on RelaxMyDog and RelaxMyCat videos to generate a business that Ahmed says is valued at seven to eight million dollars.

Bini runs a very different kind of operation, one that doesn’t generate the same kind of profit. While Ahmed said he regularly talks to journalists, Bini – who declined to give her real name – rarely does. When I reached out to her to ask for a phone interview, she said she would prefer to talk over email. "I'm an extremely private person," she wrote. Her reclusiveness contrasts with the popularity of her channel, TV BINI, which has 105,000 subscribers. Some of her 156 videos are filmed, while others are animated, but she makes and edits them all. "TV BINI is a one-woman production," she wrote.

Graymalkin, the author's cat, considers the fish in a video for which he is ostensibly (but doubtfully) the target demographic. / photo by author

Bini, who lives in California, started TV BINI in 2014. However, she's only recently gotten a high enough subscriber count to feel like her efforts are paying off financially. "It wasn't money that kept me going, that's for sure," she told me. What’s kept her going is the thought that she’s helping both cats and cat owners. Many viewers have posted clips of their pets reacting to her content. “The cat reaction videos and positive comments by pet owners motivate me to continue making videos,” she said.

Bini told me that videos of prey, or objects that move like prey (such as string dragged across the screen), help cats exercise their basic predatory instincts. And though she creates content with cats in mind, other species react, too. Bini sent me a list of videos depicting other animals, like a peacock, a praying mantis, a dog, and a lizard, interacting with her videos.

But how should we interpret animals’ reactions to pet TV? According to Dr. Kersti Seksel, a veterinary behavioral expert who practices in Sydney, Australia, it’s hard to know. “There’s very little research on [pet TV],” she said. Some studies have indicated that certain genres of music may decrease stress responses in dogs, such as a 2012 study in the Journal of Veterinary Behavior that linked classical music with more sleeping and less shaking or barking in shelter dogs. In addition, Ahmed pointed me towards a 2017 study in the journal Physiology and Behavior which suggests that soft rock and reggae music relax kenneled dogs.

However, Seksel says that the way cats and dogs perceive video is starkly different than the way we perceive it. Both species have a far sharper sense of smell than we do, which means that they rely on olfaction – a sense that video doesn’t cater to at all. They also hear a far broader range of frequencies than humans: dogs can hear up to 45,000 Hz (hertz), while cats hear up to 64,000 Hz. (We only hear up to 23,000 Hz.) Furthermore, the placement of both cats’ and dogs’ eyes means that their field of vision is much wider than a human’s, allowing them to sense more peripheral motion. “[Cats and dogs] live in their world. They hear ultrasound and infrasound sounds that you and I can't even detect,” said Seksel. “Maybe the birds outside are making noises that we can't hear, but the animal can hear.”

As a result, Seksel told me, it’s hard for us to know if the basic concepts conveyed by videos come across the same way to our pets as they do to us. While a video with fluttering feathers and a high-pitched song may convince us that it’s depicting a bird, cats and dogs may only perceive some of the signals they associate with birds. That’s what might have happened with my cat, Graymalkin. A video could suggest the presence of a bird, so he checks it out. But when he inspects the TV, he doesn’t smell a bird, or hear the ultrasonic frequencies a real bird would make. In the end, he might be wandering away because he’s bored.

Seksel said that pet TV likely caters more to our understanding of entertainment than to a cat or dog’s. “I think our expectations of what the animals will do are wrong,” she explained. “It’s based on, ‘Well, I can sit and watch a TV show, I can watch a movie.’ But even with humans, if the movie doesn't have something that changes every five to seven minutes, you lose interest. Same with video games.”

Ultimately, the audience that pet TV caters to isn’t pets. It’s us, the pet owners. As in the children’s publishing industry, the supposed target audience isn’t the one making choices. Little kids don’t have the purchasing power to buy books, so publishers market to their parents. Similarly, cats and dogs don’t have the opposable thumbs necessary to put on games or videos. Their owners are the ones who scroll through YouTube results and pick the option that seems best. In this context, the “best” video might appeal to a cat or dog, but it might also be “the video that appeals most to people.”

However, Seksel said that just because there isn’t research to support pet TV, that doesn’t mean it’s completely ineffective. “We need to think about animals as individuals,” she said. “Just because my dog doesn’t react to TV doesn’t mean that someone else’s dog wouldn’t react to it.” Seksel stressed that dogs and cats, like humans, respond to stimuli based on their preferences. Those preferences don’t have to conform to logic, or to scientific consensus. “You might like playing golf, I might not like playing golf. That doesn’t mean golf is good or bad,” Seksel added.

In a follow-up email, Ahmed agreed with Seksel’s analysis. Because there isn’t much research on how cats and dogs react to TV, “we took the approach to pump out loads of experimental content because we have a huge audience,” he said. That way, Music For Pets could engage with as many animals’ preferences as possible.

Bini hopes the popularity of pet TV will spark more research into animals’ responses. “It would be exciting to learn the differences between human and animal motivations and perceptions,” she said. Ultimately, she believes that any entertainment that makes sedentary indoor animals move around is a good thing.

Speaking with Seksel made me realize that, for me, pet TV is a small way of asserting control. It makes me feel like I’m taking steps to improve the life of a living creature. Existing in a pandemic, especially a pandemic that so many people in my country seem hellbent on minimizing, makes control over anything seem like a pipe dream. I’ve lost the power to make life much better for myself, or for people that I care about. But my cat? I can fill his days with endless clips of birds. Maybe that means something to him. Even if it doesn’t, it is still soothing for my world to contract, to become as compact and frictionless as a cat watching a TV screen, birds of prey reflected in his lambent eyes.

The YouTubers Keeping Pets Entertained During the Pandemic syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[bigyack-com]

Does Your Pet Really Need Cat TV or a Dog Playlist?

This is a story about Opie and Karma.Most days the two cats cuddle on a bed upstairs in the Saratoga Springs, N.Y., home of Aray Till, a freelance creative director. One recent afternoon, though, they were startled by the sound of chirping birds in the living room downstairs.They bounded down the staircase and were transfixed by two blue jays they saw sparring over seeds on the television screen. Opie swatted at the glass, while Karma sat upright, a vigilant sentry.Ms. Till had recently discovered “cat TV” on Amazon Prime, a library of streaming videos and movies that feature birds, squirrels and other creatures, and were made to entertain felines.Opie and Karma aren’t the only ones amused. “My in-laws were here recently and we put on cat TV,” Ms. Till recalled in an interview. “There were five adults, one child and two cats watching. It was a nice meditative break from the daily news.”Pet owners have long turned to classical music and cable’s Animal Planet to distract overactive canines and bored kittens. But with the proliferation of streaming services, entertaining furry companions has gone high tech.Last month, Spotify announced new playlists for cats, dogs and their musically inclined owners. Audible, the streaming book service, has collaborated with Cesar Millan, the television personality better known as the “dog whisperer,” to recommend books for pups.And Amazon Prime’s offerings, with their squabbling squirrels and chattering raccoons, have found prominence on social media, where owners post videos of their cats riveted by the onscreen action.“I’ve never seen her much interested in a bird,” Sam Jacobs said of her 10-year-old cat, Billie. But after Ms. Jacobs heard about cat TV on Instagram, she turned it on and Billie “sat perfectly still, watching, which she never does.”If cats are finally catching on, hounds were ahead of the pack. In 2012, the first television channel for dogs debuted. DogTV, which also offers a streaming service, was devised to soothe separation anxiety and stimulate canines who were left alone. A year later, a study in the journal Animal Cognition showed that dogs could pick out the faces of other dogs on a computer screen.Around the same time, the industry for pet products was exploding. Last year, for example, Americans bought $72 billion in food, supplies and toys for their pets. It’s no surprise that streaming services also want to cater to this lucrative market.Spotify surveyed 5,000 pet owners from Britain, Australia, Spain, Italy and the United States before releasing its pet-centric playlists. More than seven in 10 pet owners surveyed said they had played music for their furry friends. Almost half of the owners believed music help relieve their animal’s stress.Audible’s recommendations for dogs debuted in 2017, and feature Mr. Millan. The recommendations, though, are hardly scientific. According to Audible’s website, they are based on an anecdotal study of 100 volunteers who were given Amazon Echo devices and asked to record their dogs’ responses to hearing books on the device. (Audible is owned by Amazon.)Among Mr. Millan’s recommendations is Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird,” read by the actress Sissy Spacek. He warned that dogs need to be in a post-exercise, relaxed state to respond to audiobooks, adding that voice and consistency are important, along with sounding like the pet’s owner.“Audible is not going to get your dog tired,” Mr. Millan said. “They have to exercise. If you put on television when your dog is nervous, it is going to remain nervous.”Indeed, watching birds or squirrels onscreen is no substitute for the outdoors. “At least if they are outside and see a squirrel, they can smell or dig,” Mr. Millan said. “And dogs want to be with their own kind. They would never go to Best Buy and get a television.”Dr. Nolan Zeide, a veterinarian in Stamford, Conn., said that sound waves and frequencies do affect animals, but that being with their owners is what they want most.“I know there are people who believe Animal Planet makes their cat or dog feel better,” Dr. Zeide said. “But the animal only wants one thing, the human. They are thinking, ‘Where is Bob?’”Grace Bonney stumbled across cat TV on Amazon Prime a few weeks ago when she was looking for something to watch while her dog recuperated from knee surgery. To be clear, Ms. Bonney wanted a show for herself, not her dog. She is an author and bird watcher. And she was curious about what shows Amazon offered cats.“They are hilarious because there is so much drama, like anything you’ve seen on Bravo,” she said. Birds squabble and slap each other with their wings. Raccoons wander under cover of night. In one show, a hawk terrorizes burrowing rodents.Ms. Bonney, who is known as @designsponge on Instagram, decided to share her discovery with her followers. “I got 400 direct messages from people totally thrilled to find this out,” she said.Friends complained to her because Amazon Prime did not offer certain videos in Canada. “Now, I’m versed in how to find bird videos on YouTube,” Ms. Bonney said. “One woman placed a chair in front of the TV to make her cat comfortable.”Ms. Bonney’s cat, Turk, and dog, Winky, were unfazed by cat TV. “I was watching a movie about grizzly bears and they responded to that,” she said. “And foxes.”Mostly, though, Ms. Bonney said the videos were a welcome distraction from, well, you know what. “When you are watching birds and chipmunks fight over a corncob, it makes you stop thinking about impeachment,” she said of the Senate trial of President Trump. “It slows down whatever is happening. The footage is so relaxing, almost melodic.”Ms. Jacobs, a seasonal candy buyer, said Billie, her black short-haired cat, mostly sleeps and ignores her family. “She just sticks to herself,” she said. Not anymore. Recently, Billie jumped on an ottoman and, for 10 minutes, stared down a bird on cat TV. “It was unusual,” Ms. Jacobs said.Not to Dr. Zeide. “The cat is looking at the bird feeder and you know what it is thinking,” he said. “It wants to eat that bird. It’s not relaxing for them at all.” Read the full article

[strangesmallbard]

parks and rec sq au!!

1. 

emma has based an alarming number of Big Life Decisions on impulse and another thing called well, what the hell? but this is pushing it. especially coming from her roommate, who double ordered their welcome mat five years ago. just in case. for what, mary margaret? in case, emma. so i can’t regift it? no.

“emma. come one! just yesterday you were complaining about your bounty hunter career’s lack of stability.” 

“bailsbondsperson.” emma takes a long swig of yesterday’s orange juice, which is warm. “and it was a figure of speech! sort of. i get work. just last week i collared a guy. the one who wore that top hat.”

she gives emma her most placating, earnest smile. the one that makes neighbors and birds alike swarm them in central park. “but do you enjoy it?”

“hey, i got to keep the top hat! pawn shop took it for thirty bucks. i bought an extra-large pepperoni. you had four slices. traitor.”

mary margaret hands her a brochure filled with smiling families, promises of the best burgers on the east coast, and scenic views. “this town has something for both of us and i don’t want to move to a new state without my best friend at my side. and besides, its perfect! city hall is looking for…”

2.

and that’s how emma moves to storybrooke, maine, and becomes the official city hall day-time security guard.

“fuck,” emma says at the large metal door. it’s the only part of the whole building made this decade, and so it’s the only part with a key code. which keeps angrily beeping at her. 

she balances her coffee in the crook of her arm, and rustles around her phone notes for the lock combination. 1983. which she tried four times. she tries it a fifth and it not only beeps at her, it also says CALL SECURITY.

“that’s me, you shit burger piece of–”

“it’s six fifty-eight. it doesn’t work before seven am.”

she whips around so fast her coffee sloshes out of the lid. it’s the lady from the parks department. the one with the nice pantsuit who yelled at jones at emma’s first staff meeting yesterday. today she’s wearing another nice pantsuit. and she’s also holding coffee. and her eyes are kind of startling in the morning. in a good way. and she’s tapping her foot with her arms crossed. wait.  “that’s ridiculous. how does the night time guard get in?”

parks department–mills! rolls her eyes. “he has a different code. i don’t know where you come from, ms. swan, but we take safety very seriously here.”

“okay, that’s–this is a town with less than five thousand people. i saw a moose this morning. the entire fourth floor of this building is abandoned, and probably haunted. why the fanfare? did nicholas cage hide another national fucking treasure in the basement next to the records of the best berry jam winners in the last century?”

regina narrows her eyes and lets out the longest, most murderous breath. “it’s seven now. will you please–oh, never mind. the imbeciles nolan hires.” mills nudges past her and puts the code in so fast that emma only processes it once mills fixes her with one last glare. “have a wonderful day, ms. swan.”

she closes the door. it locks behind her. nice.

3.

here’s how it goes:

there’s a great big pit of dirt in the center of town and no one will explain the intricately engraved sign spelling out storybrooke commons. even ruby from granny’s, who practically runs the town’s social media. because she hacked every single social media account.

the mayor is evil. kind of like miranda priestly, but like, actually evil. 

emma buys regina a let’s start over coffee with three sugars (she asked ruby) and bearclaw (can’t go wrong with a bearclaw!) and her eyes kind of shined and she said thank you, genuinely. she also said i hate bearclaws. 

town hall meetings can and will run for three hours straight through lunch and no one will judge you too hard for whipping out a gogurt at hour two.

(except regina. and everyone. then regina will start bringing you “real yogurt” which is yoplait, but whatever, and then you’ll bring her a box of gogurts in retaliation, and that’s a whole thing.)

hot chocolate with cinnamon from granny’s who has okay burgers. (don’t tell granny.) 

regina’s son is filming a documentary for an art project, so there’s a lot of footage of emma tripping at that one tricky spot on the third floor.

smalltown squirrels will outsmart you, and it’s. fine to let that go.

4.

(”i mean, i don’t mind the squirrels. per-say. they’re fine. they’re doing fine. they’re doing what they’re meant to be doing. but do they have to climb into the air vents? do they have to drop acorns into the gutter pipes? do they–”

“emma, i was asking you about town infrastructure. what do you know about budgeting?”

“still just the security guard, kid. i know less than the squirrels.”

“but you could–”

“i am not letting you break into your grandmother’s office.”

“worth another try!”)

5.

three days before halloween, regina pages (actually pages) her to the park’s department, which is covered inspirational poster to inspirational poster with toilet paper. and silly string that spells PAN.

“pan,” regina says, hands on her hips and teeth gritted. “every goddamn year!”

“uh,” emma says, and puts her hands on her hips too. “so, who’s pan?”

“in class yesterday he said that ophelia got what she deserved at the end of hamlet,” ava, one of the interns, says, shaking her head. grace, another intern, pats her clenched fist on the table.

“alright, yowch, i hope your teacher took off points,” emma says in her direction, “but is anyone gonna answer my question?”

regina gives a frustrated noise and puts a hand on her forehead. she narrows her eyes in emma’s direction. “i will destroy him if it’s the last thing i’ll do.”

ava nods emphatically. grace gives a very concerned frown.

“he’s the grandson of rupert gold, the town mega capitalist,” zelena says, eyes rolling on the vowel. she leans back in her chair. “so he can antagonize everyone with absolutely zero legal consequence. and he’s my dear little sister’s arch nemesis.”

“he is not.”

emma can’t suppress a grin. “a fourteen year old is your arch nemesis?”

regina throws her arms up, abruptly goes to her office, and slams the door shut.

more silly string falls from the ceiling.

6.

“leroy, for the last time, we will try to find your pickaxe.”

“that’s what you said last year, mills! i’m not buying a new pickaxe when there’s a perfectly good one still out there! waiting!”

regina pinches the bridge of her nose. “this meeting is adjourned. please place all suggestions and further questions in the box currently being held by…” regina looks at emma with an odd sort of stare. “officer swan, apparently. enjoy the rest of your days, and don’t forget to donate to the fund for the storybrooke commons.”

there’s a single, solitary clap. from marian, in the first row. regina manages a smile in her direction. she gives regina a thumbs up and mouths something that could be have a shift, call you later. once the citizens start begrudgingly filing out, regina turns back to emma. “where’s ava?”

emma shrugs. “she said she had an emergency.”

regina sighs. “she’s reading on the fourth floor again.”

“damn. that’s a good idea.”

regina glares. 

“i mean, you know, it’s haunted, so there are better places. hey, do you want to get lunch?”

regina tilts her head. “lunch?” 

emma shrugs and it’s weird still holding the box. regina stands up and stretches, grabs her folders and straightens them out on the government-issued plastic table. “you know. lunch. that thing with the food and the talking. or not talking if that’s more your thing.”

regina rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “talking’s fine if it’s not about squirrels.”

“they’re a menace, regina. a danger.”

regina steps towards her and grabs the box. she’s suddenly standing close. “i know a place along the highway. don’t tell granny.”

7.

(“storybrooke commons is how marian and i met. her now very ex-boyfriend fell into the pit and i told her we’d build a park.”

“how long ago was that?”

“ten years.”

“oh damn.”

“yes. damn is right. according to my mother, it’s just never in the budgets.”

“you know, henry was asking about that.”

“henry?”

“hey! emma! i told you that was top secret!”

“henry, what did i say about video-taping without permission?”

“it’s a documentary, mom! i need candids!”)

8.

marian is regina’s best friend. and she’s a nurse. and she’s terrifying. and she’s the nicest person emma’s ever met.

and now she’s in emma’s living room. talking to her roommate. emma blinks away the dream, but it’s definitely not a dream.

“morning, emma!” mary margaret says, clasping her hands together. “marian here, your friend–i am so glad you’re making friends!–says you two are going to campaign today? for regina?” 

emma stretches her arm behind her back. “what now?”

marian, still in her scrubs and holding one of mary margaret’s prized humming bird themed tea cups, raises a brow at her. “do you want hook to win a seat on the city council?”

emma wakes the fuck up. “hell no.”

they go around house to house and it’s grueling because it’s humid as hell and the people of storybrooke fucking suck. emma leans against the bug and wills all the sweat on her back to evaporate. “do they really hate regina that much because of cora? didn’t they elect her mayor?”

marian heaves a box of campaign materials into the car and steps back, arms crossed. “not exactly. back in the day there was a neighboring town called applewood. it was full of vacationing republican senators and their shitty kids. cora was the reigning mayor. long story short it went broke, and it was regina’s idea to do a merger. which saved both towns, but you know. because of the Rich and Famous, cora won the election again. so everyone actually hates her for that. stupid.”

emma blinks. “this small-town dish keeps getting deeper.”

“what?”

“do you think i’d get arrested for tee-peeing cora’s office?”

marian barks out a laugh. “only if you promise not to arrest me either, officer swan.”

9.

(”do you like my mom?”

“what? i mean, yeah of course. but, what does that–”

“do you think she’s a good public city official, i mean. do you think she’s a good candidate for the city council?”

“kid, you’re the one who read the entire storybrooke-applewood constitution.”

“she’s my mom. i’m biased.”

“i mean, so am i.”

“what?”

“what?”

“i mean, you know. we hang out. i think she’s cool in like, a person way.”

“i know. you were at my house yesterday. you ate all my lucky charms.”

“oh sh–shoot. shoot.”)

10.

ten days after regina wins the election–by a margin because storybrooke is full of assholes–she invites emma to storybrooke commons.

“the pit?”

“just come, swan,” regina says, oddly soft. “henry’s at a friend’s house tonight.”

emma drives up to the pit. the dirt is all orange because of the waning sun and bright pink spilling over the tops of houses. regina stands in the middle next to one of those fold-out camp couches with the cup holders. she started an actual campfire too, and hands emma a marshmallow stick when she makes it over.

emma un-buries her hands from her pockets. “metal. fancy.”

“no one’s eating bark on my watch.”

emma watches the fire catch her. she’s wearing a track suit and a visor and her hair is in a ponytail. “what’s up? bureaucracy got you down?”

regina takes a breath. “what if i ran for mayor this year?”

emma spits out her proverbial drink, which really means she accidentally shakes one of her marshmallows into the fire. “you…”

regina hands her a hershey bar and two graham crackers. “gold approached me today. he said he’d run my campaign.”

emma manages to salvage one measly marshmallow. “okay, but isn’t gold the shadiest man alive?”

“dead too,” regina deadpans. “and i’d sooner let zelena run my campaign, but i have been thinking about it for a very long time.” meticulously, she slides her marshmallows between her graham crackers and hershey’s bar. she sits down and looks up at the sky. “running against my mother would be…”

“yeah, but you could do it.” emma shrugs, and sits down next to her. she balances her mess of a smores on her cupholder.  “you’ve proven over and over again how dedicated you are to this town.”

regina rubs the back of her neck and looks over at her, really looks. her eyes so startling in the sunset, and still in a good way. the best way. now emma notices the crinkles by her eyes too. “you have too, you know.”

emma snorts. “one squirrel at a time?”

regina doesn’t laugh. she keeps looking. she visibly swallows. emma leans in closer and regina tilts her head and says, “are you…going to eat your smores?”

emma’s head is swirling. she’s about to do another Big Thing on impulse. “can i kiss you?”

regina nods and suddenly her fingertips are on her cheeks, soft as anything, and her lips are warm in the cooling night, and emma runs her hand through regina’s hair, holds the back of her neck, and maybe this town isn’t going to be one of hundreds, maybe this isn’t another in-between-home, and the park is only a pit but not forever, some day there’s going to be greenery and fountains you can wish on and shit, and fuck the squirrels but she’s staying, maybe. maybe. yes.

11.

(”so, sheriff swan, how does it feel to be married to the mayor?”

“kid, you were our ring-bearer.”

“yeah, but i’m biased.”

“when does this video project end again?”

“that’s classified, ma.”)

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 30)

“Are you sure you want to do this, Weiss?” Penny asked as she and Weiss stood in a public bathroom. “Your body's stress hormone levels still haven't returned to normal.”

“Yes,” Weiss said before she splashed more water on her face. “I'm a Schnee, and as my grandfather Nicholas famously said: 'Where other people see desolation, failure, and the writing on the wall, I see motivation to keep on going until we turn this shit around,'" she continued as she dried her face with a paper towel.

Penny nodded. “Calling the Watcher's Roost...” she said as she held up her arm, the “tablet” section flipped out.

Weiss threw the towel away, checked her reflection in the mirror: her eyes were red and puffy from crying, she had the ominous beginnings of eye bags thanks to all the stress and less than ideal sleep she'd been getting recently, and just an aura of unpleasantness had settled on her from having been screwed over far too often and frequently.

She would have killed for make-up, some concealer at the very least, but she supposed she'd just have to work with it. Who knew: maybe looking like someone you wouldn't want to mess with would be a plus in the Watchers.

They left the bathroom and headed to the nearest Tube station, and off they went to the Watcher's Roost.

The Roost was situated on the side of one of the highest mountains of the Valley, overlooking all of the Bastion and a great deal outside the walls, too. Like the city itself, it was a series of trees and platforms connected by bridges and rope, along with a number of extra Tube stations, elevators, and zip lines for getting around quickly.

As Weiss arrived at the main entrance, she looked up and noticed giant birds perched in the higher branches, racks with saddles, bags, and harnesses with folded mechanical wings nearby. “If the Valley had an air force, this would be it,” she thought to herself as Penny arrived.

The two of them walked up to the doors, where there were already two Watchers waiting for her. One was an orange squirrel with all the chipper demeanor and hyperactivity that entailed, the other gave Weiss pause as she stared at him.

Most of the Fae she'd seen in the Bastion were based off mammals, and she'd only seen a handful of bird-like Fae such as Qrow. The one before her looked like a snake or a reptile of some sort, slit pupils in his pink eyes, pink-green scales creeping in on the sides of his face, his neck, and his hands, and what looked to be horns poking out from his forehead.

“Oh hi, you must be Weiss!” the squirrel said as she ran up to her. “Oh who am I kidding? EVERYONE in the Valley knows who you are! You're practically famous! Or is that supposed to be infamous? Anyway, I'm Nora, and that's Ren, and we're going to be helping you in your run through the Grinder!

“Hope you don't come out the other side as meat paste~!”

Weiss blinked, confused and more than a little concerned.

“'The Grinder's' what we Watchers call our entrance exam,” Ren said. “It can get pretty brutal.”

“Super brutal, you mean!” Nora cried. “There's a reason the Guild stopped offering 'Watcher' as part of the Job Gauntlet! Well, aside from the fact that we kept getting so much Moss and people who just didn't want to join up clogging up the ranks, but there's that, too!”

Weiss nodded slowly. “I… see...”

“So, are we going to stand here all day? Or are we going to see if you are Watcher Material?!” Nora said, grinning and leaning ever closer to Weiss' face with each word.

Ren calmly coaxed his friend back to a more polite, less uncomfortably close distance. “Sorry about that; Nora's been dying to meet you since Ruby told us that you were staying here permanently, and Penny's call got her excited all over again.”

“Why wouldn't I be?!” Nora cried. “We're going to be just like the Void Claw Clan and Lang-Lang from 'The Last Bear Ender!' An outsider, scared, confused, thrust into a new, dangerous world they are completely unprepared for, seeking guidance and protection wherever she can find it, fighting the wilds, her enemies, and her inner demons to rise up as their new CHAMPION!”

As Nora was busy with her monologue and dramatic posing, Weiss discretely asked Ren, “HV addict?”

Ren nodded. “It's how we both learned Nivian.”

“Figured...” Weiss muttered.

Nora turned back to her, put her fists on her hips and attempted a serious, dramatic look. “So, outsider, do you wish to grow strong with the darkness, or continue to cower in the light?”

Weiss wondered if it was too late to back out, and go see just what being a paid guinea pig would entail.

“There's a sign-on bonus of 1,000 Shinies if you pass, plus a regular monthly salary even if you'll probably be spending the next year or so training and shadowing senior Watchers in the less populated districts here in the Bastion.”

And at the promise of 22 Triple Chocolate Cake Shakes with change to spare, plus a year's worth of compensated on-the-job training, Weiss' mind was made up.

“Let's do this,” she said, smiling.

Nora cheered, while Ren smiled back. “Alright,” he said. “Let's head inside, and get you started.”

The interior of the Roost was a bizarre mix of a military base, a police station, and a hunter's lodge.

There was a giant board with announcements and notices about dangerous and criminal individuals, and suspicious activity in general. An army of operators manned terminals, screening and updating the others on important tips from citizens and their sources of information. A holographic “Heat Map” of the entire Valley was projected from the ceiling, lighting up in different colours depending on how dangerous an area was, sometimes with images of particularly deadly animals, always with a name in Actaeon or Nivian and a corresponding bounty for taking them down.

There were also the stuffed heads and carcasses of famous kills throughout the ages, portraits and pictures of proud Watchers and their trophies, and sometimes statues and reliefs of their more legendary figures, frequently portrayed in combat with their most infamous opponents.

Weiss passed by a giant statue of what looked like the bastard child of an alligator, a shark, and a tank that had also been heavily irradiated with magic, then injected with several gallons worth of steroids, because apparently whoever had designed it thought it wasn't terrifying enough.

There was a plaque underneath it: “Death Claw, the First Soul Eater,” Penny translated.

It was definitely just a statue, but the detail in its six eyes, the rows of serrated fangs within the three flaps that made its “mouth,” and the giant, twisted horns atop its head gave Weiss the chills. “That's a Soul Eater...?” she whispered.

“Yeeep!” Nora said as they passed it by. “Big reason why we Watchers are paid and funded so well—and also why we recruit year round, too!”

“We keep it largely as a reminder to never get complacent,” Ren continued.

Weiss gazed it at one more time, before she resolved never to turn her head in its general direction again, and hurried on after the others.

They went deeper into the Roost, into a series of underground caverns. She could hear the echoes of training and fighting, shouts and war cries from both Fae and animals. And from even deeper in…

“… Is that music?” Weiss asked.

Ren nodded. “We share our facilities with the Pits for extra funding and convenience.”

“Plus, a lot of Watchers tend to be Pit Fighters when they're off-duty, or vice-versa! You're going in there later as part of the Grinder, by the way.”

Weiss' eyes widened in alarm.

“Don't worry, we have safety measures and really good equipment,” Ren explained. “Your opponent's also skilled at roughing folks up without actually causing lasting harm.” He paused. “Physical harm, at any rate.”

“But for now, we're going to do Part 1 of the Grinder: The Reflex Test!” Nora said as she opened a door that led to a training room. It was very basic with a safety mat in the center, some machines for exercises and drills, and a rack of training dummies.

“It's very simple,” Ren explained as they headed to a table. “For 30 seconds, I'm going to try to touch you on your nose, you try and stop me or dodge. To pass, you only need to do either once. Ready?”

Weiss nodded and stood in front of him. “Ready,” she said as she held up her hands.

Nora put her hand over to a giant timer and turned on a camera. “On three: 1… 2… 3!”

Boop.

Ren lightly tapped Weiss on the nose, just enough for her to feel it.

Weiss blinked. “Wait, wha--”

Boop.

Weiss scowled. “Hey--!”

Boop.

Weiss raised her arms in front of her face.

Ren effortlessly weaved his hands around her defense.

Boop.

Weiss growled.

Boop.

Ren was unfazed.

Boop.

Weiss started flailing her arms in the air.

Boop.

Weiss grabbed both of Ren's wrists.

Boop. Boop. Boop. Boop. Boop. Boop.

“Gah!” Weiss let go, unable to stand against the assault. She spun around.

Ren sidestepped.

Boop.

She hid her face in her hands.

Ren gently pried her hands from her face.

Weiss looked him straight in his pink, slit-pupil eyes.

Boop.

Ding!

“Time's up!” Nora yelled. “Reviewing the footage now and…. yeeep… looks like you dodged a grand a total of zero Boops!”

“Don't worry,” Ren said, “you need only get a score of 2 out of 4 to pass, and the Combat Test counts for 2.”

Weiss grumbled as she rubbed her repeatedly booped nose.

“To the Endurance Test!” Nora said, walking off to the side and wheeling in a device that was composed of a tank with a valve, a hose, and a nozzle pointed well away from the operator's side.

“What is that?” Weiss asked.

“A Soul Fire Thrower!” Nora replied cheerfully.

“… What's Soul Fire?”

“A magical substance used for non-lethally taking down powerful targets that shrug off more instantaneous methods, or to weaken strong enemies to level the playing field,” Penny explained.

Weiss worriedly eyed the nozzle. “… Is this going to hurt?”

“Yep!” Nora replied, nodding her head. “Gonna hurt LOTS!”

Weiss stared at her. “Wait--”

“On 'Burninate!' 3, 2, 1: BURNINATE!”

FWOOSH!

Weiss screamed and ran around as she was suddenly engulfed in green flames. She patted herself, stopped, dropped, and rolled and rolled on the floor, but the fire wouldn't let up and kept on burning, and burning, and burning.

Then, as quickly as it started, it ended, leaving Weiss sprawled out on her back, eyes wide and breathing heavily, her body, hair, and clothes unburned, though tendrils of leftover magic rose up from her like smoke.

Ren stopped the timer. “5.27 seconds,” he said, before he walked over to Weiss, uncapped a bottle from his belt, and poured its contents over Weiss.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?!” she screamed as she scrambled up, rejuvenated.

“Testing how long you might last out in the wilds,” Ren replied. “The time you can stay alight is a very accurate predictor.”

Weiss groaned. “Please tell me I passed...”

“Nope!” Nora chirped. “Gotta burn for 15 seconds at the least, 30 seconds ideally, and at least 72.08 seconds to break the record!”

“There's still the Combat test, don't worry,” Ren said. “I'd recommend at least a repeater, a melee weapon of some sort, and the lightest armour we have for speed and agility.”

“Do you have rapiers?” Weiss asked.

Ren nodded. “We do.”

“Good.”

Weiss stood in one of the smaller arenas in the Pits, armed and equipped exactly to Ren's advice.

Tall rocks and waist high barriers were strewn about, alongside a miniature mountain range behind her back and a deep ditch on her opponent's side, but hiding behind them wouldn't count for much with how small the arena was, how easy it would be to get flanked.

She looked at her repeater—a wrist-bound machine-pistol of sorts—then at the rapier of carved bone in her other hand. She'd been given time to practice with both, and a vigorous warm-up before the fight beside, but no one would tell her who or what her opponent was going to be, exactly.

“Are these darts live?” she asked earlier as Ren taught her how to reload her repeater with a fresh canister.

“As real as your sword,” he said calmly.

Weiss frowned. “Aren't you worried I'm going to hurt someone?”

Ren smiled. “Weiss, believe me, your opponent's going to turn out fine, and you will, too.”

She complained and cajoled anyone to give her a hint, but everyone kept their mouths shut, wanted her to find out for herself as she had with the Tubes. And as the lights dimmed, the crowds in the stands howled and cheered, and her opponent's gigantic cage was lowered into the ring, Weiss could take comfort in the fact that the mystery was finally going to be over.

She got into the stance Ren had taught her—sword for defense and deflection, repeater to actually do the actual hurting.

Nora got on the mic. <And now, Weiss Schnee's opponent for her Combat Test: ZWEI!>

The crowd cheered and howled as the lid opened and crashed to the ground with a massive thud. Zwei casually trotted out, both heads panting happily.

Weiss smiled.

<And for the purposes of this test: ZWEI on FIRE!>

A bird dropped a flaming pot of soul fire on Zwei's back. The flames engulfed his entire body in an instant, but he was completely unharmed. Heavy metal music began to play as he raised his heads up and howled, twin jets of green flames shooting out from his mouths.

Weiss eyes widened as several hundred pounds of burning, giant, mutant two-headed Corgi came bounding towards her, jaws open and tongues flapping in the wind.

[mastcomm]

Does Your Pet Really Need Cat TV or a Dog Playlist?

This is a story about Opie and Karma.

Most days the two cats cuddle on a bed upstairs in the Saratoga Springs, N.Y., home of Aray Till, a freelance creative director. One recent afternoon, though, they were startled by the sound of chirping birds in the living room downstairs.

They bounded down the staircase and were transfixed by two blue jays they saw sparring over seeds on the television screen. Opie swatted at the glass, while Karma sat upright, a vigilant sentry.

Ms. Till had recently discovered “cat TV” on Amazon Prime, a library of streaming videos and movies that feature birds, squirrels and other creatures, and were made to entertain felines.

Opie and Karma aren’t the only ones amused. “My in-laws were here recently and we put on cat TV,” Ms. Till recalled in an interview. “There were five adults, one child and two cats watching. It was a nice meditative break from the daily news.”

Pet owners have long turned to classical music and cable’s Animal Planet to distract overactive canines and bored kittens. But with the proliferation of streaming services, entertaining furry companions has gone high tech.

Last month, Spotify announced new playlists for cats, dogs and their musically inclined owners. Audible, the streaming book service, has collaborated with Cesar Millan, the television personality better known as the “dog whisperer,” to recommend books for pups.

And Amazon Prime’s offerings, with their squabbling squirrels and chattering raccoons, have found prominence on social media, where owners post videos of their cats riveted by the onscreen action.

“I’ve never seen her much interested in a bird,” Sam Jacobs said of her 10-year-old cat, Billie. But after Ms. Jacobs heard about cat TV on Instagram, she turned it on and Billie “sat perfectly still, watching, which she never does.”

If cats are finally catching on, hounds were ahead of the pack. In 2012, the first television channel for dogs debuted. DogTV, which also offers a streaming service, was devised to soothe separation anxiety and stimulate canines who were left alone. A year later, a study in the journal Animal Cognition showed that dogs could pick out the faces of other dogs on a computer screen.

Around the same time, the industry for pet products was exploding. Last year, for example, Americans bought $72 billion in food, supplies and toys for their pets. It’s no surprise that streaming services also want to cater to this lucrative market.

Spotify surveyed 5,000 pet owners from Britain, Australia, Spain, Italy and the United States before releasing its pet-centric playlists. More than seven in 10 pet owners surveyed said they had played music for their furry friends. Almost half of the owners believed music help relieve their animal’s stress.

Audible’s recommendations for dogs debuted in 2017, and feature Mr. Millan. The recommendations, though, are hardly scientific. According to Audible’s website, they are based on an anecdotal study of 100 volunteers who were given Amazon Echo devices and asked to record their dogs’ responses to hearing books on the device. (Audible is owned by Amazon.)

Among Mr. Millan’s recommendations is Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird,” read by the actress Sissy Spacek. He warned that dogs need to be in a post-exercise, relaxed state to respond to audiobooks, adding that voice and consistency are important, along with sounding like the pet’s owner.

“Audible is not going to get your dog tired,” Mr. Millan said. “They have to exercise. If you put on television when your dog is nervous, it is going to remain nervous.”

Indeed, watching birds or squirrels onscreen is no substitute for the outdoors. “At least if they are outside and see a squirrel, they can smell or dig,” Mr. Millan said. “And dogs want to be with their own kind. They would never go to Best Buy and get a television.”

Dr. Nolan Zeide, a veterinarian in Stamford, Conn., said that sound waves and frequencies do affect animals, but that being with their owners is what they want most.

“I know there are people who believe Animal Planet makes their cat or dog feel better,” Dr. Zeide said. “But the animal only wants one thing, the human. They are thinking, ‘Where is Bob?’”

Grace Bonney stumbled across cat TV on Amazon Prime a few weeks ago when she was looking for something to watch while her dog recuperated from knee surgery. To be clear, Ms. Bonney wanted a show for herself, not her dog. She is an author and bird watcher. And she was curious about what shows Amazon offered cats.

“They are hilarious because there is so much drama, like anything you’ve seen on Bravo,” she said. Birds squabble and slap each other with their wings. Raccoons wander under cover of night. In one show, a hawk terrorizes burrowing rodents.

Ms. Bonney, who is known as @designsponge on Instagram, decided to share her discovery with her followers. “I got 400 direct messages from people totally thrilled to find this out,” she said.

Friends complained to her because Amazon Prime did not offer certain videos in Canada. “Now, I’m versed in how to find bird videos on YouTube,” Ms. Bonney said. “One woman placed a chair in front of the TV to make her cat comfortable.”

Ms. Bonney’s cat, Turk, and dog, Winky, were unfazed by cat TV. “I was watching a movie about grizzly bears and they responded to that,” she said. “And foxes.”

Mostly, though, Ms. Bonney said the videos were a welcome distraction from, well, you know what. “When you are watching birds and chipmunks fight over a corncob, it makes you stop thinking about impeachment,” she said of the Senate trial of President Trump. “It slows down whatever is happening. The footage is so relaxing, almost melodic.”

Ms. Jacobs, a seasonal candy buyer, said Billie, her black short-haired cat, mostly sleeps and ignores her family. “She just sticks to herself,” she said. Not anymore. Recently, Billie jumped on an ottoman and, for 10 minutes, stared down a bird on cat TV. “It was unusual,” Ms. Jacobs said.

Not to Dr. Zeide. “The cat is looking at the bird feeder and you know what it is thinking,” he said. “It wants to eat that bird. It’s not relaxing for them at all.”

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/does-your-pet-really-need-cat-tv-or-a-dog-playlist/

[mastcomm]

Does Your Pet Really Need Cat TV or a Dog Playlist?

This is a story about Opie and Karma.

Most days the two cats cuddle on a bed upstairs in the Saratoga Springs, N.Y., home of Aray Till, a freelance creative director. One recent afternoon, though, they were startled by the sound of chirping birds in the living room downstairs.

They bounded down the staircase and were transfixed by two blue jays they saw sparring over seeds on the television screen. Opie swatted at the glass, while Karma sat upright, a vigilant sentry.

Ms. Till had recently discovered “cat TV” on Amazon Prime, a library of streaming videos and movies that feature birds, squirrels and other creatures, and were made to entertain felines.

Opie and Karma aren’t the only ones amused. “My in-laws were here recently and we put on cat TV,” Ms. Till recalled in an interview. “There were five adults, one child and two cats watching. It was a nice meditative break from the daily news.”

Pet owners have long turned to classical music and cable’s Animal Planet to distract overactive canines and bored kittens. But with the proliferation of streaming services, entertaining furry companions has gone high tech.

Last month, Spotify announced new playlists for cats, dogs and their musically inclined owners. Audible, the streaming book service, has collaborated with Cesar Millan, the television personality better known as the “dog whisperer,” to recommend books for pups.

And Amazon Prime’s offerings, with their squabbling squirrels and chattering raccoons, have found prominence on social media, where owners post videos of their cats riveted by the onscreen action.

“I’ve never seen her much interested in a bird,” Sam Jacobs said of her 10-year-old cat, Billie. But after Ms. Jacobs heard about cat TV on Instagram, she turned it on and Billie “sat perfectly still, watching, which she never does.”

If cats are finally catching on, hounds were ahead of the pack. In 2012, the first television channel for dogs debuted. DogTV, which also offers a streaming service, was devised to soothe separation anxiety and stimulate canines who were left alone. A year later, a study in the journal Animal Cognition showed that dogs could pick out the faces of other dogs on a computer screen.

Around the same time, the industry for pet products was exploding. Last year, for example, Americans bought $72 billion in food, supplies and toys for their pets. It’s no surprise that streaming services also want to cater to this lucrative market.

Spotify surveyed 5,000 pet owners from Britain, Australia, Spain, Italy and the United States before releasing its pet-centric playlists. More than seven in 10 pet owners surveyed said they had played music for their furry friends. Almost half of the owners believed music help relieve their animal’s stress.

Audible’s recommendations for dogs debuted in 2017, and feature Mr. Millan. The recommendations, though, are hardly scientific. According to Audible’s website, they are based on an anecdotal study of 100 volunteers who were given Amazon Echo devices and asked to record their dogs’ responses to hearing books on the device. (Audible is owned by Amazon.)

Among Mr. Millan’s recommendations is Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird,” read by the actress Sissy Spacek. He warned that dogs need to be in a post-exercise, relaxed state to respond to audiobooks, adding that voice and consistency are important, along with sounding like the pet’s owner.

“Audible is not going to get your dog tired,” Mr. Millan said. “They have to exercise. If you put on television when your dog is nervous, it is going to remain nervous.”

Indeed, watching birds or squirrels onscreen is no substitute for the outdoors. “At least if they are outside and see a squirrel, they can smell or dig,” Mr. Millan said. “And dogs want to be with their own kind. They would never go to Best Buy and get a television.”

Dr. Nolan Zeide, a veterinarian in Stamford, Conn., said that sound waves and frequencies do affect animals, but that being with their owners is what they want most.

“I know there are people who believe Animal Planet makes their cat or dog feel better,” Dr. Zeide said. “But the animal only wants one thing, the human. They are thinking, ‘Where is Bob?’”

Grace Bonney stumbled across cat TV on Amazon Prime a few weeks ago when she was looking for something to watch while her dog recuperated from knee surgery. To be clear, Ms. Bonney wanted a show for herself, not her dog. She is an author and bird watcher. And she was curious about what shows Amazon offered cats.

“They are hilarious because there is so much drama, like anything you’ve seen on Bravo,” she said. Birds squabble and slap each other with their wings. Raccoons wander under cover of night. In one show, a hawk terrorizes burrowing rodents.

Ms. Bonney, who is known as @designsponge on Instagram, decided to share her discovery with her followers. “I got 400 direct messages from people totally thrilled to find this out,” she said.

Friends complained to her because Amazon Prime did not offer certain videos in Canada. “Now, I’m versed in how to find bird videos on YouTube,” Ms. Bonney said. “One woman placed a chair in front of the TV to make her cat comfortable.”

Ms. Bonney’s cat, Turk, and dog, Winky, were unfazed by cat TV. “I was watching a movie about grizzly bears and they responded to that,” she said. “And foxes.”

Mostly, though, Ms. Bonney said the videos were a welcome distraction from, well, you know what. “When you are watching birds and chipmunks fight over a corncob, it makes you stop thinking about impeachment,” she said of the Senate trial of President Trump. “It slows down whatever is happening. The footage is so relaxing, almost melodic.”

Ms. Jacobs, a seasonal candy buyer, said Billie, her black short-haired cat, mostly sleeps and ignores her family. “She just sticks to herself,” she said. Not anymore. Recently, Billie jumped on an ottoman and, for 10 minutes, stared down a bird on cat TV. “It was unusual,” Ms. Jacobs said.

Not to Dr. Zeide. “The cat is looking at the bird feeder and you know what it is thinking,” he said. “It wants to eat that bird. It’s not relaxing for them at all.”

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