#thunderbird mountain

[funthingsfortoddlers]

Dig It is Australia's 1st excavator park for KIDS at Thunderbird Park on Tamborine Mountain. 

We think it was designed with toddlers in mind!

Here's everything you need to know about the Gold Coast's latest family attraction that your toddler is going to LOVE: www.funthingsfortoddlers.com/attractions/dig-it-at-thunderbird-park/

[canary0]

There’s a legend about how the crow used to be a multicolored bird that sang beautifully, but in stealing back fire/the sun for humanity, the soot from the fire stained the crow black and ruined their voice. I can’t help but think of that when I see the multicolored sheens crow feathers can have.

Crows are not simply black, their feathers looks different in different lights, depending on how sunny or cloudy it is or from which direction the sun comes. This is the same crow on different days.

[earlycuntsets]

mcr shows on youtube pt. 1 (2002 - 2005)

-> pt. 2 (2005 - 2007)

-> pt. 3 (2007 - 2011)

-> pt. 4 (2011 - 2023)

02/16/2002 american legion garfield nj – sarah lewitinn

03/01/2002 loop lounge passaic nj – ATØMIC JĒY

06/14/2002 club krome south amboy nj – spaceyrayrun

06/29/2002 harmony grange hall no. 12 wilmington de us – spaceyraygun

07/05/2002 american legion – camp merritt post 21 cresskill nj usa – spaceyraygun

07/19/2002 loop lounge passaic park nj – spaceyraygun

08/03/2002 rexplex elizabeth nj – spaceyraygun

08/16/2002 maxwell’s hoboken nj – george koroneos

08/17/2002 alissas basement kinnelon nj – spaceyraygun

09/14/2002 electric factory philadelphia pa – spaceyraygun

12/02/2002 fireside bowl chicago il – brad nolan video on plentyoflegs

12/18/2002 trocadero theater philadelphia pa – spaceyraygun

12/23/2002 factory 324 roanoake va – panterathrashfan13

1/11/2003 fireside bowl chicago il – brad nolan videography

02/20/2003 mississippi nights st louis mo – brad nolan videography

02/21/2003 beaumont club kansas city mo – brad nolan videography

02/28/2003 boonton elks lodge boonton nj – user: random stuff

03/23/2003 club krome south amboy nj – douglas carl

05/14/2003 north star bar philadelphia pa – deadhoarse

05/23/2003 imusicast oakland ca – skyline studios – oakland

06/08/2003 bloomfield avenue cafe montclair nj – spaceyraygun

06/26/2003 the knitting factory nyc ny – luxlillian

07/26/2003 the chameleon club lancaster pa – spaceyraygun

08/18/2003 9:30 club washington dc – TEPMIHATOP_HvH

08/19/2003 trocadero theater philadelphia pa – spaceyraygun

10/23/2003 downtime nyc ny – spaceyraygun

10/31/2003 south amboy nj halloween show – user: MCR stuff and things

11/14/2003 university of connecticut-stamford stamford ct – user: random stuff

12/14/2003 irving plaza nyc ny – spaceyraygun

05/17/2004 des moines iowa house of bricks – 515 archive

06/02/2004 manchester university manchester uk – TEMIHATOP-HvH

06/08/2004 vintage vinyl fords nj – spaceyraygun

06/09/2004 newbury comics shrewsbury ma us – punkstermann

06/10/2004 north star bar philadelphia pa – spaceyraygun

08/08/2004 summer sonic festival tokyo japan – dusted out on route guano

11/08/2004 hard rock live orlando fl – ryanninja

11/13/2004 unknown venue orange ca – TEPMIHATOP_HvH

12/12/2004 universal amphitheatre universal city ca – andrea amador

01/17/2005 trl nyc ny – patty8239

02/03/2005 la boule noire paris – the academy is my beautiful romance

03/04/2005 arrow hall mississauga ontario ca – the academy is my beautiful romance

03/05/2005 john labatt centre london ontario ca – the academy is my beautiful romance

03/29/2005 arco arena sacramento ca – moranestes

05/21/2005 kroq weenie roast irvine ca – the academy is my beautiful romance

05/27/2005 wxdx summer kick off chevrolet amphitheater pittsburgh pa – neeeeonafterglow

06/06/2005 le trabendo paris france – the academy is my beautiful romance

06/10/2005 download festival donington park castle donington uk (interview) – TEPMIHATOP_HvH

06/25/2005 warped tour reliant park houston tx – ibanez27

06/27/2005 hard rock live orlando fl – ATØMIC JĒY

07/02/2005 32/20 warped tour pier san francisco ca – the academy is my beautiful romance

07/12/2005 warped tour thunderbird stadium vancouver ca – kristi haubrick

07/30/2005 warped tour molson park barrie ontanio ca – loveorsympathy

07/31/2005 warped tour silverdome pontiac mi – nightrain5565

08/01/2005 warped tour post gazette pavilion burgettstown pa – price family homestead

08/05/2005 warped tour vinoy park st. petersburg fl – rogo117

08/10/2005 warped tour nissan pavilion bristol va – the academy is my beautiful romance

08/11/2005 warped tour ford pavilion montage mountain scranton pa – the academy is my beautiful romance

08/12/2005 warped tour tweeter center camden nj – katemcilwaine

08/13/2005 warped tour randall’s island park randalls island nyc ny – the academy is my beautiful romance

08/14/2005 raceway park englishtown nj – readydeady

08/23/2005 the underworld london england – leila vardar

08/31/2005 melkweg the max amsterdam netherlands – user: random stuff

09/01/2005 abart zurich switzerland – mychemrock1

09/03/2005 idroscalo segrate italy – nacho en tour

09/15/2005 promowest pavilion columbus west ohio – andreaflowers

09/17/2005 eastern michigan university convocation center ypsilanti mi – amanda

09/27.2005 mesa amphitheatre mesa arizona – mark zeta

10/02/2005 event center arena san jose ca – jason is lost in japan

10/08/2005 gwinnett center duluth ga – living with ghosts

10/10/2005 revolution live ft lauderdale fl – natnizzle

10/14/2005 tweeter center camden nj – decoemergency

-> pt. 2 (2005 - 2007)

-> pt. 3 (2007 - 2011)

-> pt. 4 (2011 - 2023)

[gumnut-logic]

“Alan, calm down. It was an accident.”

It was said through gritted teeth. This was not something he expected to have to weather when training his youngest brother in basic mountain climbing.

But then there had been the incident with the hammer with Gordon...and John, while extremely athletic had absolutely terrified Scott with the mild hypothermia incident.

Virgil...well, Uncle Lee had taught Virgil with Scott so big brother escaped that.

Though come to think of it, Uncle Lee did have a scar.

But it wasn’t as big as this one was going to be.

“I’m sorry, Scott. I’m so sorry!”

He drew in a breath and let it out ever so slowly. “Calm down. We will handle this like any emergency. Scout’s oath, Alan?”

And he made his little brother recite it, thankful that it seemed to focus the fourteen-year-old.

“Accidents happen, it’s how we respond to the accidents that matters, now secure yourself and contact John.”

Scott did his best to attach himself to the ice face as well. It took him a few extra moments working through pain and the inability to move without it.

An ice pick through his calf did that.

It was an accident. Scott had moved unexpectedly and Alan had picked at the ice at just the wrong moment in time.

“Thunderbird Five, we need help.”

A simple, but concise message.

“Alan? What’s wrong?”

The tremor in Alan’s voice as he reported the incident hurt Scott more than the ice axe.

“It’s going to be okay, Allie. I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” It was a wail.

“It happens. I’ll be fine.” Looking down was awkward, and yes, his climbing pants were an uncomfortable shade of red, but he had confidence in his brothers. They would be off this mountain in no time.

Fortunately, Virgil and Gordon had stayed back on the Island while Scott both took a break on Aotearoa’s South Island and began some basic training for his youngest brother.

Apparently, he would be off rota longer than expected.

“Should I try to bandage it.”

“No.” Scott shifted a little and regretted it. “Virgil will be here soon.” It wasn’t like his brother was far away at Thunderbird speeds. He could imagine Virgil flying down that ridiculous chute of his this very moment. Five minutes, maybe.

“I’m sorry, Scott.”

“Allie, it happens.” A swallow. “Did I ever tell you about how I learnt to drive?” Distraction was the key.

“No? Didn’t Parker teach you? Gordon still raves about his lessons.”

Another swallow. “Yeah, he did. Had to repair a lot of pink paintwork for his efforts.”

“What? You smashed up FAB1?!”

“Kinda.” Yeah, now it was really starting to hurt. hanging from the side of a mountain with blood dripping into the abyss wasn’t his favourite past time. C’mon, Virg, hurry up. “Parker was not impressed.” Scott flexed his own axe in one hand and dug into the ice and secured an extra piton which he then looped into his harness.

Didn’t hurt to be extra secure.

“How? Did Parker actually let you drive FAB1?”

“Kinda. Not really. He has another pink car.” A grimace. “Still goes fast.” And it had hit that tree rather hard. Sometimes he swore he could still hear the echoes of the lecture he received from both Parker and his father about driving too fast.

Cars were not planes and did not respond quite the same way.

Didn’t help that England drove on the wrong side of the road. It was all cack-handed.

He tightened his fist and loosened his shoulders.

“Scott, you okay?” That tremor still hurt.

“Virgil will be here any moment.” And as if summoned, a streak of green tore into the sky above them.

And planes weren’t Thunderbirds. The sight of the big green behemoth was such a relief.

His comms. “Hey, Virg. Need a hand.”

“Coming down.” Two spun slowly midair and opened her bay doors. A moment and the rescue rig, complete with two frowning brothers descended from her belly.

“He’s going to kill me.”

Another sigh. “No, he won’t. He’s Virgil. He will just run you through climbing safety ad nauseam.”

“Gordon is never going to let me live it down.”

A blink. “Yeah, you may be right about that.”

“I’m sorry, Scott. I really am.”

“I know, Allie, I know.”

-o-o-o-

[idontknowreallywhy]

4 hours pass. Just one more minute.

Floor really needs to be softer. His butt has gone to sleep. Why does nobody carpet bathrooms anymore? They had the right idea in the 1900s.

Also he really needs to start keeping snacks in here, just in case…

WIP whenever

This could sit within at least 3 of my currrent WIPs… or maybe it is something new.

Not in anyway based on real life of course but it does remind me I need new towels…

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Eventually Virgil had persuaded Scott… with a small amount of physical assistance (perhaps ‘manhandling’ might not be inaccurate) from John and Gordon… to leave his side and go and shower and hopefully get some proper sleep because he looked like crap.

Sleep could wait, he’d sleep better once he’d got some work sorted. But he wasn’t entirely disobedient - he’d got the shower done. Well, mostly. It depended what counted as done really, as with so many things. He’d definitely used the shower and the shower was now switched off so the shower task was probably completed?

Except that if somebody called he’d still say he was in the shower… because that was more convenient than explaining he was in the midst of a mountain of his fluffiest towels, warm from the rail. If someone did come in he might successfully persuade them there was only a mountain of used towels in the corner, coincidentally positioned over the warmest part of the underfloor heating system. Nothing to see here, as long they didn’t notice his eyes peeking out.

He was probably dry by now and so he’d be done and ready to roll shortly. He was just warming up first.

The only problem was the persistent refusal of the heat from the towels or the floor or the sub-tropical summer sun pouring through the skylight to actually penetrate as far as his bones.

Just another minute. He’d be ready in a minute.

[whencyclopedia]

The Unseen Helpers

The Unseen Helpers is a Cherokee tale on the importance of kindness. Generosity is a central cultural value of the Cherokee nation, as it is with Native American nations generally, and is regarded as especially praiseworthy when the giver does so without expectation of reward or recognition, simply because it is the right thing to do.

North American Gray Wolf

Gary Kramer, USFWS (Public Domain)

This concept is not unique to the Cherokee nation but is common to all Native peoples of North America. A person is expected to offer kindness without expectation of reward, in the same way the Great Spirit has given all good gifts to humanity. In Cherokee belief, the Creator God, Unetlanvhi, freely gives to all living things, and so, in honoring the Creator, one should do likewise as much as one is able to.

The Unseen Helpers illustrates this concept, subtly, as the reason for the help offered to the central character is not given until the end of the story. There is no date of composition for the story as it was passed down through oral tradition by the Cherokee storytellers for centuries until it was committed to writing in the late 19th century, but the tale is still told and remains as popular in Cherokee communities today as it was in the past.

Kindness & Spirit Beings

According to Cherokee belief, in giving without expectation of reward, one will receive unexpected blessings, often in times of greatest need. Offering food, clothing, or assistance to others, is simply expected, and should be understood as a reward in itself, but, in giving to others, one might also receive further benefits. In the Cherokee Ulunsuti tales, the story of The Red Man and the Uktena exemplifies this concept. A hunter, out with his brother in the mountains, comes across a man coiled in the grip of a large uktena snake and saves him. The man turns out to be a supernatural entity, the Red Man of the Lightning, who then rewards the hunter with the gift of the mystical jewel from the uktena snake which, first, saves his brother from death and, secondly, allows the hunter to find game whenever he goes out on a hunt.

Kindness, generosity, to others not only applies to fellow humans but to all living things, plants and animals, and the Cherokee understanding is that kindness shown to non-humans is just as important as human-to-human interaction as there is no reason to believe that people are more important than animals or plants. Further, although kindness should be shown to animals as a matter of course, there is also always the possibility that the creature one feeds or helps is actually a spirit being from a higher realm. Scholar Larry J. Zimmerman comments:

Not only do landforms, plants, and animals have a spirit, they can actually be a spirit. An eagle is an eagle, but it can also be a thunderbird with special powers for protection; coyote is a coyote, but it can also be a manifestation of the trickster, willing to lead a human or other animal astray or teach them a lesson. It is imperative for people who have to live alongside these multitudinous spirits, to know this and behave accordingly. If one obeys certain rules, there may be benefits; if one doesn't, there may be dire consequences. This concern with the spirits of nature does not in any way mean that either the spirit or nature is venerated; rather, nature is praised at the same time that one lives with and uses these invisible powers.

(86)

The Unseen Helpers epitomizes this belief as Ganogwioeoñ of the Seneca nation is aided unexpectedly and saved from death by simply doing as he felt he should throughout his life. There is nothing in the text to suggest he ever hoped for a reward or was trying to evade some punishment through his acts of kindness and generosity. He only did what he knew to be right and proper and, without any expectation of return for his offerings, is rewarded at a pivotal moment in his life.

Continue reading...

[synthsamuri]

Happy Halloween! 🦇

Please enjoy the prologue of my newest 19 days fanfiction, Ravenous. A story about vampires, vengeance, a mysterious killer, and of course, tianshan.

Read here on Ao3 or see below! Enjoy!

1961 New Hampshire

It was the longest night of the year, deep into the month of December as fog rolled over the hills of the countryside. Evergreen trees towered high on either side of the winding highway, green pine speckled in white snow that was just beginning to fall. It was a cold night, made colder by an eerie chill that had settled on the valley north of the town of Larkspur. Off to the side of the road, high up in the trees stood a young looking man. The chill did not bother him, nor the white snow that gathered in steady piles on the dips of his body. He had been still for so long, nearly becoming part of the landscape.

The man’s blood red eyes watched the road, unblinking, unmoving. Not even a breath disturbed the air around him. He was starving. Hunger filled his every thought, every nerve of his being. He would have left days ago if not for being so cemently frozen in place, commanded to stay still until his release was given. He was drying out, blood vessels rubbing together like sandpaper under his skin. It was the first step into desiccation, an unpleasant precipice he had walked too many times before. He was on edge, senses focused onto every sound, every flutter of every wing, every footstep of every animal. He stared at the road waiting, endlessly waiting until his mind was so consumed by the thought of the hunt, of the kill, that he thought he might snap, but still, he stayed still. Then finally, a red Ford Thunderbird rounded the corner driving up the mountain. At the sight of his release, his body unlocked from its stasis, muscles engaging, heart beating once more.

In a matter of seconds he had scaled down the mountainside, ready in place as the shiny red car drove through the predetermined spot. The driver didn’t see him coming, swerving in shocked horror to miss the man that suddenly appeared in the road. Tires squealed on wet snowy pavement as the car came to a grinding halt, dipping into the dead grass and shrubs on the side of the road.

The driver, a man dressed in a brown, well worn suit, stumbled out of the car, desperately scanning the road through large wide rimmed glasses. “Stay in the car!” he shouted to a woman sitting in the passenger seat.

Bitter cold stung the man’s cheeks and fingers as he squinted into the dark, trying to see the road ahead. The only light available was from the red taillights of his car and the cold caress of speckled moonlight through the trees. He desperately searched for the man. Who would be out walking alone on these mountainous roads.

“Hello?!” he shouted but only the wind answered. He swerved his head as he heard a car door open. “Honey! Stay in the car!”

The woman took a step out and onto the wet dead grass, clinging to her jacket. “I didn’t even see anyone, Henry! Let’s just go!”

“I saw a man on the road. I swear! We can’t just–”

“There! Henry, look there!” The woman pointed and the man’s eyes went wide. A little down the street stood a man in an expensive looking pinstripe suit. He had bright white hair and he was slowly walking towards them. Despite the wind and the snow, two golden eyes shone brightly back, sending a chill through both of them.

“Get back in the car!” The man yelled, sprinting back to the driver’s side, but before he could reach it, a grip so strong ripped him back. Soon a shocking, searing pain pierced his neck and he screamed out in utter agony.

“Mo Guan Shan! Stop.” Harsh but firm words rang out, though the man didn’t register them, couldn’t with the white hot pain coursing through him.

The pain retracted from his neck but the grip remained. A growl rumbled behind him, deep and angry. His blood went cold, not just from the wind and the snow but it was a feeling, a dreadful knowing that death itself was right behind him.

“I’m sorry about my dog.” A sly, chilling voice said, and suddenly the man with white hair was right in front of him. “He’s on a tight leash but my influence only goes so far when he’s this hungry.”

“Who- who are you?” The man stuttered. He could feel the hot blood on his neck trickling down to his shoulder. “What do you want? Money? Please, I’ll give you anything just p-please.”

“I think you’ll find that you already know me, or, at least you know my kind. Isn't that right? Professor Henry Watkins?”

“Y-Your kind?”

“My name is She Li.”

The professor’s eyes widened with frightened realization, but he was quickly distracted by the woman who stepped further from the car. She looked terribly confused and kept her distance, remaining close to the vehicle. “Henry?! What’s happening?”

“Stay back!” The professor cried as tears welled in his eyes. The grip on him tightened.

“Careful,” She Li scolded with a mocking tone. “You’re riling him up. My compulsion is strong but as I said, he’s hungry. Starved even. Human emotions excite him. It’s part of the hunt, like a game. A game I doubt you want to play.”

The professor dared to look back and immediately wished he hadn’t. Two horrifying blood red eyes were staring at him, burning into his being with a beast like hunger. It was unsettling how unnaturally youthful the man looked, he couldn’t have been older than his own sons just starting to make their own way in the world. His skin was taut and pale, contrasting against orange red hair. Unlike the other, this one was dressed in nothing but rags, torn and bloodied. He smelled of blood, the stench of death was overwhelming. Was it a man or was it truly a monster? Blood dripped from his jaw and his grip was like steel cutting into him. The red eyed man snarled, baring sharp fangs hungry for another taste of his blood. The professor couldn’t help but cry out in fear, trembling and sniveling at his worst fears coming to life before him. The monster responded, eyes widening, jaw opening ready to take another bite.

“Enough!” She Li commanded, pupils dilating and shrinking as he stared down his pet. The professor felt the man, or rather the beast behind him shiver and sneer in submission. Soon the grip on his arm grew softer as the white haired man exuded his will over his lesser. “Behave for me, and I will let you feast on the woman.”

“No!” The professor immediately pleaded, pulling at the grip on his arm. He was filled with terror at the idea of his wife being mutilated. “She’s innocent, she knows nothing! Leave her out of it!”

“Ah,” She Li laughed. “So you know something? Where is it then? You know what we are, so I assume you know what we seek.”

“Just promise you’ll let my wife go, spare her!”

“Of course,” She Li smiled darkly. “My word is my bond. I won’t lay a finger on her.”

The man behind him growled, fingers gripping down once again, blood dripping from his mouth onto the professor’s neck. He could all but feel the blood stained breath inches from his neck. The white haired man raised a palm to his beast, warning him to back down. “Give me what I ask and no harm will come to her by my hand.”

The professor sniveled and cried, clinging to the desperate hope that his sins would not claim the life of his wife. “I-in my office, b-back at the university I have notes tracking down my findings, all of them are yours! My key is in the car!”

She Li frowned. “So you don't actually have it.”

Desperate laughs erupted from the professor's twisted face, tears streamed down his cheeks. “No one has seen it in decades! My family is dying out, only a few of us are even left to care. It could be a myth for all we know! I’m just a researcher! I did what they asked! Only what they asked!”

She Li scoffed, wiping back his silver white hair from his face. “We both know the role that you’ve played. You can try to pretend that you were a mere follower but I see through your lies, Professor Watkins.”

“Look, I told you what I know. You’ll, you’ll let us go now?”

“Let you go?” He laughed, so loud and long that it sucked the life right out of the air. It was as if his very voice was ice down their throats. “No. Your family’s work has led to the death of so many of my people and I’m nothing if not a just and fair leader. You will die, a slow, painful death. Justice for my little family. But first, you will experience the pain of losing your family, just as I have lost so many of mine.” He looked up and nodded to his fledgling.

The iron grip detached from him immediately, and the professor dropped to the cold paved ground, watching as the beast stalked towards his frail wife. She shivered and groveled, falling to the cold wet earth and begging for an explanation, a reason why.

“Wait! Wait, you promised!! You swore you wouldn’t hurt her!”

“I swore I wouldn’t hurt her. I said nothing about my companion here. And, well, I wouldn’t advise getting between him and a meal.”

“Run!!” The professor screamed, and watched as his wife clumsily got up and began to pitifully run towards the woods.

She Li hummed in amusement. “That’s good, he likes it when they struggle. I really should be thanking you. The entertainment does him good, keeps him well behaved. Eternal life can be so monotonous, boring really.”

The professor struggled to get up and help his wife but She Li shoved him back down, resting his foot on his back. She didn’t last long, tripping on the long drapes of her expensive dress, a gift he had bought her for her birthday. She screamed, wailed and pleaded for her life, for his life, but it meant nothing. Gnashing teeth and rivers of blood were next. Her cries faded as her life force drained away. The monster was all consumed, devouring her, ripping her skin with such force that it tore and bled. He ate so ferociously that her head was ripped from her shoulders and even then, the monster lapped at the blood, unable to stop.

The professor went numb, going into shock until those red eyes turned on him next. The red eyed beast stalked towards him, licking the blood from his lips. The foot lifted off of the professor's back as She Li stepped in front of him. “No sudden movements now,” he warned. “I need you alive, professor.”

The professor sat up slowly. Deep sadness, rage, and utter humiliation filled him. His hands shook and his tears stilled. All he could focus on was the deranged man stalking towards him. “What?! Was my wife not enough!!! Still hungry for more? You sick twisted creatures! You deserve what you got! You’ll all burn in the end!!”

Something sparked in the eyes of the bloodied monster, a glimpse of humanity perhaps shining through the consuming hunger.

She Li quickly approached and placed a hand on his fledgling’s shoulder, pushing his attention back to his golden gaze. “You’ve had enough now. This one is mine. Return to the house and wait for me there.”

The professor looked around. He was going to die. Here in the mountains where no one would know. All his research to uphold his family’s legacy, all his hard work, for nothing. No. He wouldn’t die for nothing. He wouldn't let his wife’s death mean nothing! With a leap, he jumped up and started to sprint towards his car.

The sudden movement was like a trigger. Instincts of a starving hunter took control, and before She Li could stop him, Mo Guan Shan reacted. He chased down the professor and sank his teeth into his skin. The professor screamed out, squirming and fighting for his life. But with every drop of blood that was taken from him, his drive and ability to fight was drained as well.

“Enough!” She Li commanded but Guan Shan did not respond, sucking, eating, devouring. Trying to satiate the incurable hunger.

“I said enough!” She Li grabbed his pet and ripped him from the professor, throwing him to the ground. The professor dropped as well, dead or soon to be. His wounds were far too great and he had lost too much blood to be healed now.

Riled up and angry about being stopped, Guan Shan flipped back up to his feet, growling and baring his fangs. Any lucidity or humanity was gone in that moment, it was all just the unyielding hunger. He immediately went for the professor’s body once more. There was still more blood to be had, it was going to waste!

She Li grabbed him harshly by the neck. He was older and stronger. An elite from an old family of which there were only a few left in the world. Guan Shan was but a fledgling in comparison. His speed and strength though incomprehensible to the human eye was nothing to She Li. “You will listen,” he hissed.

Guan Shan shriveled and whimpered under the compulsion, losing his will and his mind to the great weight that settled on it under She Li’s golden gaze.

She Li took in the scene with great disapproval before returning his gaze to the struggling man in his clutches. “You are proving difficult to break, but you will break. Even if it takes a hundred more years, we have all the time in the world. It’ll only get worse the longer you fight it. You know nothing of hunger!” he spat.

Sputtered, bloody wet coughs erupted from the professor lying on the ground, interrupting their squabble. “V-vampires. You’ll all burn.” More blood came pouring out of his wounds, out of his mouth. His voice was garbled, he was drowning in it. “You'll… burn.” With that he breathed his last breath and his body went cold.

[niffler-gold]

Burning

Just a short injury fic focused on Scott with some comfort thrown in.

His muscles burned in agony as he tried to get up this morning. Apparently doing two mountain rescues back to back with a lot of climbing followed by rigorous water training led by Gordon did not agree with his muscles. Still nothing a hot shower and some stretching wouldn't fix.

He slowly pulled his legs over the side of the bed and stretched up towards the ceiling his joints loudly cracking to show their disdain at being moved from their current position. He quickly pulled on his running gear and was about to head out before his hot shower. Leaving his room he could already hear Gordon furiously swimming in the pool at this early hour.

Just as he was heading down the stairs to start his early morning routine John popped up on his com. He groaned internally before answering, knowing his hot shower was going to have to wait. "What's the situation John", he asked, ever the professional. "Another climber got into difficulties". Scott paused before answering, "That is the third one in less than 2 days, what are these people thinking, we should start charging for these at least that might be a deterrent", he rambled on. John cut him off before he could get any further, "even so this guy does need our help", he paused for a second before continuing, "it's an unusual one, he was climbing a large cliff face when he said the cliff seemed to move under him, next thing he knew all of his belay wall clips started pinging undone and he fell around 50 metres getting tangled in the line as he went... The unusual thing is I haven't detected any seismic activity around that area nor does it have any implications in the surrounding geology that any seismic activity has taken place in the last 100 years. "He's probably just imagining it and didn't secure his clips properly enough", grumbled Scott in response. "Could be" replied John, "but I did a quick background check on this guy and he's been climbing professionally for about 30 years and has never called us or any local rescue teams out to aid him before." "Hmmmm, that is odd" pondered Scott. "I'll take 1 alone, no need to wake up the bear this early for a pickup.. see you in the sky thunderbird 5", "fab scott, safe flight" and with that John had disappeared and Scott was running towards one's launch shoot to gear up.

Sitting in the pilot's chair of one he slowly tried to stretch his burning muscles out once more but to no avail. He really could have done with that hot shower he thought to himself. Nevermind it could wait. "Approaching the danger zone now thunderbird 5" he called through the coms. "Fab thunderbird 1" John called back through to him. He tried one last futile time to stretch his muscles out before coming into land at the bottom of the cliff face.

After exiting one and surveying the scene before him he knew the best option was going to be to climb up after the man rather than using the jet pack due to the unknown unstable condition of the rock face. Thankfully he could use the grapple gun in order to get up there with speed as the man looked to be hanging on his side completely covered in rope. With precision he fired the grapple into a secure spot of the wall and started his accent.

His limbs were once again burning with the strain of the climb by the time he had reached the man. But still he kept face and called out to the dangling climber. He quickly learned that the man's name was Ben and started trying to secure him to a new line before tackling the rope that was binding him. Luckily Ben seemed unharmed apart from a little bit of rope burn where it had dug in and caught him.

Ben kept chatting to him as he worked and he soon found out he was a seasoned mountain rescue operative on a holiday as he called it to get a little alone time. It was definitely something that Scott would have done if he ever had more than a few hours to himself and he kept wondering how the climber had managed to get himself in such a bind. Soon enough though Ben was free and was back secured against the wall. However before Scott could lower Ben down back to the ground again they had to get his gear cut down so they didn't tangle up with it on their way down.

As Ben was helping him sort it out he noticed something odd. One of the belay wall clips looked chard and burnt and the rope around said clip was in similar condition. He looked at Ben and asked if his equipment was this damaged when securing it to the wall. Ben confirmed it most definitely was not in that condition, then he noted that when assessing the rope to be cut down back to the ground, that would of been the clip that failed when the cliff started moving. This puzzled Scott even more.

Once the gear and ropes had been safely thrown back down to the ground Scott got ready to lower Ben down to safety. But before he could he asked Ben if he knew whereabouts on the wall that the burnt clip had been secured. His Tracy senses were tingling alarmingly but not in a good way at all. Ben said it looks like it was the clip about 10 meters above them, so Scott decided he needed to take a look before returning to the ground. Scott slowly lowered ben back down to solid ground before slowly climbing to the spot Ben had previously pointed out to him.

He quickly found the spot where the clip had been as a small black spot protruded out of the crack where the clip had been secured. Small cracks could also be seen in the burnt section of the wall. He slowly felt around inside the small fisher to see what could have caused the damage as nothing natural would do this type of carnage. His fingers slowly curled around something metallic small and sharp. He cautiously pulled it out and held it to the light to better examine it. He could just make out the chaos crew logo.

His hand flew up to his com button to alert John but in a split second a fireball had engulfed a section of cliff high above him to his right. An ear splitting explosion suddenly came from his left much nearer to him than the first. He started rappelling down the cliff as fast as his equipment would take him. Another explosion just above him and he could feel the heat lick the side of his face. It had detonated where he had just been a second before. Next thing he knew he was falling. The explosion had dislodged his grapple.

He fell as fire and debris surrounded him on all sides. He fumbled with a new grapple cartridge, discarding the old one out of the gun and fired. The line caught him less than 10 meters from the ground. Before he had a chance to get moving again a last fireball explosion detonated just below his right leg.

He was lying on the ground his ears ringing. He could see smoke floating all around him as his vision swam. His right leg was numb with scalding pain shooting all around it. His vision swam when he tensed it unknowingly. He could hear muffled movement round him someone shouting his name. The next time his eyes peeled open against the heat a figure loomed over him. He seemed to be yelling something but it sounded so far away. Green and blue swam in his vision as he lost consciousness once again.

He could hear low murmuring voices all around him. His head swam with confusion. He could feel soft cotton sheets wrapped around him and the tell tale sting of an IV line inserted into his left arm. His body felt numb and his right leg had an odd feeling of coolness about it. Gingerly he opened one eye to figure out what was going on.

He was greeted with the sight of all his brothers sitting around the bed he had been put in. He heard a low chorus of Scott being said around the room as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room. He felt a hand on his and saw Virgil gently holding it looking like he hadn't slept in over a week. "What happend" he gently asked looking at his little brother in the eyes. His voice came out quite horse and raspy much to his surprise. "The chaos crew" Virgil replied quietly and solemnly. Suddenly the images of the rescue and the carnage that had surrounded him came back into his mind. "How bad he asked" still looking at his brother. It was John who answered instead on the opposite side of his bed. "Unconscious for 3 days, bruised ribs and a definite concussion..." He seemed to trail off towards the end. Scott knew he was avoiding telling him something but before he had a chance to enquire further Gordon finished off for John. " Your right leg", he stated nervously. "When we found you it was blackened and chard, your uniform was missing and the parts that were still there were fused into your skin". "The doctors managed to save it though" he said cheerfully trying his hardest to lighten the mood. Alan chose this moment to interject, "you've had multiple skin grafts and surgeries to assist with its healing, for now it's got to stay in the specialty brace to keep it healing and healthy." So that's why, he thought to himself, it felt slightly cold.

He could already feel the sleep tugging at his eye lids as he looked at his brother's noticing how worried and anxious they all seemed to look. Virgil gently brushed the hair back of his forehead, "sleep Scotty" he gently whispered as everything started going black again.

A month later and Scott was sitting at his father's desk keeping an eye out on the rescue that the rest of his brothers were on. He still was on crutches as he wasn't allowed any weight on the leg just yet. The brace that surrounded it kept it nice and cool though.

He thought back to that morning where all he wanted was a nice hot shower but had decided to go running instead. He should have just had the shower he thought to himself. At the moment all he was allowed was a gentle cold shower due to his injuries. He sighed to himself knowing it was still gonna be a little while until he could have the hot water pouring down his skin.

"SCOTT WHAT ARE YOU DOING", yelled Virgil having just materialised on the holo projector in the middle of the room. "What" Scott replied with his cocky grin on his face. "I'm sitting down" he tried not to laugh at the expression on Virgil's face. "You are meant to be elevating that leg, not sitting at the desk". Well at least some things never changed.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

03/21/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Birthday Boy; Rachel House; Taika Waititi; You Wear 50 Well; #RhysRadness; Stats; Watch party Reminders; Articles; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

Wow, I'm sorry all, I literally fell asleep at the computer last night and just.. didnt get up til this morning. I apparently was pretty wiped out! So tonight's recap is this mornings recap! PS: Im behind on all my messages so please dont think im ignoring you :)

== Birthday Boy ==

As you can imagine, Rhys was everywhere today, on his birthday on this side of the world! Some more stills from Uproar from Caravancarparkfilms IG

He also posted some old and new pics of our captain!

Dan Schreiber Posted a video of Rhys starting to sing My Sharona! Thanks @kiwistede for getting that over to tumblr!

Samba also gave us some more pictures!

And then there was the merstede cameo he did!

= Rachel House =

I keep wanting to post more about Rachel's new movie The Mountain but there's been so much Rhys stuff going on I keep forgetting! So here's some sweet promos for the movie that's in select showings in Aotearoa right now!

== Taika Waititi ==

Great news all! Taika got your lovely letters :)

== You Wear 50 Well ==

More tributes to the birthday boy!

@nika_market

@The_MovieDweeb

= Tumblr Highlights! =

Lots more gorgeous tributes by our tumblr sibs!

@ammdakin

@emcolbs

@illustoryart

== Adopt Our Crew ==

Stede Bonnet won #RhysRadness! As well he should! Our leading man in his major leading role. Congrats Stede!

https://x.com/adoptourcrew/status/1770823288752640358?s=20

== Watch Parties ==

= Newark, Newark =

When: Saturday 23rd March @ 7 pm GMT / 3pm EST / 12 pm PST Where: BBC iPlayer, Now TV

Hosted by @lamentus1

Extra Note: The Rhys Darby Faction Discord will be streaming it as well at 5pm GMT / 1 pm EST / 12 pm PST

​Watch Party Hashtags:

#NewarkThePlank

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== Wrecked ==

Today is the series Finale!

Times will be 10pm GMT / 5pm EST / 4pm CST / 2pm PST. Watch two episodes per day. Episodes are 21-22 minutes each. Use the following Saturday for the tags/watch if interested but not able to make this time.

Hashtags: 

#WreckedPirates

#SaveOFMD

#RhysDarbyFaction

== Fan Spotlight ==

Today's cast card is none other than our fellow crewmate Hugo Pierre Martin! He's been supporting the SaveOFMD effort for a while as well as being a part of the show's cast! Thank you @melvisik for highlighting our lovely friend!

== Stats ==

Thank you @/meowzawowza_ on twitter for these awesome stats!

== Articles ==

‘Night Court’ – ‘The Duke’s a Hazard’ Post-Mortem Interview with Rhys Darby

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies, I fell asleep last night writing so I'm gonna paste in something from our dear friend TheLatestKate today. Definitely get some rest if you can, we can all persevere tomorrow.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika==

Today's Theme: Button downs and smiles Taika Courtesy of @kiwi-taika Darby Courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome

[formlines]

The Life of Meares Island

Joe David

from the website: Notes from DaVic Gallery:    This beautiful and rare print image, represents the natural and spiritual beauty of Joe David’s homeland, a mountainous island protected by the mythic Thunderbird, Wolf, Lightning Serpent, and Whale.

[funthingsfortoddlers]

We got diggy with dirt at Dig IT  today! Dig It is QLD's 1st excavator park for KIDS at Thunderbird Park on Tamborine Mountain. Dig It is now OPEN and ready for ACTION!!! When will you experience it for yourself? More info and bookings here: https://bit.ly/3KxZDZV #digitqueensland #getdiggywithit #tamborinemountain #funthingsfortoddlers #goldcoastkids #familyfun #digit #thunderbirdpark #toddleradventure #excavatorpark

[luxudus]

Dragons in a Trail of Cryptids

I don't care if this technically was posted in march i uploaded it to deviant art in time this is a february art post lmfao. This was meant to be a birthday gift for @jennywolfgal and her other project Trail of Cryptids. Enjoy!!!

   The world of Trail of Cryptids explores an evolutionary history for life on earth. One in which the beasts of our folklore are more fact than fiction. Cryptids and mythological creatures exist and evolved naturally through both expected and unexpected origins. 

One such group of organisms are the legendary dragons of countless tales of our world. Here they only recently diversified, but their ancestry dates all the way back to the beginning of the triassic.

    Their earliest ancestor was a third offshoot of the Avemetatarslians, the same group of archosaurs that gave rise to the dinosaurs and pterosaurs. Ancient Silesaur-like Paradrakoans lived under their brothers’ shadows for the entire mesozoic period. Only scraping by through the smallest niches and farthest corners of the world like the equally unfortunate mammals.

    Once the asteroid hit the earth 66 million years ago and wiped out the dinosaurs and pterosaurs. Only 2 representatives of this once great clade remained. Birds, and a single paradrakoan. A small burrower classified as Fodermasaurus superstes, cheekily named by paleontologists as the spug. 

     It took a long time for the Drakoans to grow their wings and spread it. At first climbing trees and making burrows, then gliding to ease the falls from the canopy. Then longer webbing on the hands to change direction. And finally learned to flap them to gain height. Countless now dead lineages, finally producing the first Drakoan over 40 million years ago during earth’s late eocene.

    Nowadays the Drakoans are a fairly small group. They only consist of roughly 1,116 species. A far cry from their far more successful avian cousins. But nonetheless a monumental achievement relative to their entire evolutionary history.

    Some common traits that distinguish the Drakoans from other vertebrates are developed egg-teeth that some species retain well into adulthood. Large auricles or external ears, Keratin horns. And most notably powered flight, evolving independently from their avian cousins. 

    We’ll start out with the order Avidrakoa. An order of Drakoans unique for possessing fully developed beaks derived from their egg teeth. And a unique wing structure made more out of fur bristles than a tough skin membrane. The Avidrakoans first split the moment the class as a whole first evolved powered flight. Allowing their wings to be this derived

    They are not too common, numbering in 148 species in total. Most of which are split between basal bipeds such as thunderbirds and the more derived quadrupeds which include griffins.

    The species here is an actual griffin. Gryphon tropicus to be exact. They are apex predators of the rainforests of indonesia. Their deep warm coloration and disruptive stripe conceal them in the forest scenery to ambush prey. And their powered flight lets them hop across islands, making them not only a formidable predator, but a widespread one too.

    The most famous members of the Drakoan class are the Eudrakoans, the true dragons. They are characterized by their strong parenting mentalities and a natural ability to breathe fire. Through 4 orifices in the corners of their mouth they spew out a liquid biofuel into the path of a similarly regurgitated and highly reactive gas, igniting the fuel into a stream of flaming liquid. 

    They are the most widespread group of dragons, totalling at 447 different species. Most species are either small sprawling quadrupeds such as the European forest dragon to erect striding quadrupeds like the legendary Eurasian mountain Tsar

    The species representing the True Dragons. Megaloros thereusicthys is a close relative to the Eurasian mountain Tsar. Although unlike their apex cousin this species is a wading piscivore. Using their stilted legs to practically hover over the water and their flexible necks to pluck fish out of the rivers they tread through.

    Next up is the order Wyverna, a group of Drakoans distinguished by the development of poison laced quills found in certain places along the body. All interconnected to a set of poison glands in the upper mandible. These glands oddly enough share the same ancestry as the biofuel tanks in the Eudrakoans. And a stiffer wing structure making them obligate bipeds

    They are the second most common order of dragons. Numbering at 335 documented species. Including the cockatrice surprising many.

    The species pictured here is Ouranodyno chrysokephale. A generalist omnivore with a generalist range across Mexico with a rather extravagant hunting method. They dive-bomb towards their prey and catch them with their mouths. More as showmanship for mates than an actual means to survive. They also have extravagant coloration to warn would-be attackers of their poisonous tail quill that could kill a bison in under a minute

    There is the order Wurmiza, the most derived group of dragons recorded. They are distinguished by a near complete lack of hind legs. Fully internalized ears, a streamlined annelid-from body plan, and aquatic to semi-aquatic lifestyle. They are the 2nd rarest order of dragons. Consisting of only 124 documented species. Consisting of the smaller seafaring Ladons and the larger Oceanic sea Serpents.The species used to represent the Wyrms, Pachaktevenator horribilis. Is a medium sized sea serpent found in the Indian ocean. They are notable for their extreme aggression and their mating season being spent on the beach. Draconian elephant seals if you will.

Lastly, despite only being a family. This last group of dragons is peculiar enough to warrant it's own highlight in this introduction. The Neosaurs are in a way a twisted mirror of the beasts of the past. They are notable for a complete lack of wings, reduced horns and aurica. But are most recognizable for the Theropod-like body plan most Neosaurs display. Which is speculated to be a consequence for their ancestors having stiff wings like their Wyvern cousins.

    They are a very rare order, there are only about 62 species documented. Most of them are found across africa as smaller generalists. But a few can get big enough to recapture what the original dinosaurs had lost

    Representing the Neosaurians, the Kasaii asymneter is a south african desert dwelling relative to the legendary Kasaii rex of the southern congo rainforest. They are both pursuit hunters and act relatively similar. The main difference is the prey selection and differenc coloration.

[idontknowreallywhy]

75-3

Final part of this fluffy nonsense. Yea it’s mildly unhinged… but once the idea of Scott tormenting his offspring by being outrageous took me… well… who am I to argue?

Again a warning for old people being romantic ;) (at what point do I need to make this Teen rating on AO3? Perhaps it has crossed that line with all this insinuation 😏)

Part 1 / Part 2

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Kala Patthar was one of their favourites.

It was objectively a beautiful sunrise, of course. But there were other reasons that wouldn’t have made it into the guidebook.

By 2077 the Tracy villa and all of its many architecturally improbable extensions was teeming with life. And trip hazards. If there wasn’t a bum-shuffling toddler lying in wait for the unwary around every corner it would be one of the multitude of domestic animals that had begun to take over in the years since Grandpa Jeff uttered the immortal words “Aww I’m sure a couple of kittens or a bunny rabbit wouldn’t hurt…”

Or perhaps the unsuspecting might fall foul of a horde of stampeding kindergarteners cackling over some nefarious plan to make the lives of the Tracy adults just that little bit more Interesting this morning.

Or worse, TEENAGERS. Several of these had seemingly sprung from nowhere to lurk moodily in doorways, complain about adult incompetence, monopolise the holoscreen and consume a significant chunk of the Tracy fortune in snack form.

Suffice to say, it was busy. And with apparent responsibility for two of the grouchy teenagers, the most devious of the kindergarteners and the loudest of the toddlers, Scott and his long suffering wife had their hands full. And their brains. Chances to escape grew scarce and any idea of a semblance of privacy anywhere on the Island was absolutely laughable. Most trips off-island had become taxi journeys for a horde of offspring (theirs or a sibling’s… it mattered little) desperate to see “the real world”. Such was the life of a parent. They wouldn’t have changed it for anything. And yet.

And yet.

It was on Scott’s 45th birthday that, doubtless to enable some grand surprise-party-esque scheme in his absence, Virgil had insisted on the weary pair leaving the island for a few hours to, in his words “just do something, anything, as long as it is somewhere else”. And so they’d taken off in One and set a course for the next impressive sunrise they could make it in time for - the one reflected off the highest mountain on the planet, best viewed hovering a few thousand feet above the smaller peak of Kala Patthar.

Despite the close proximity of the new co-pilot seat, it had quickly became clear that Thunderbird One was just too shouty for any kind of conversation to take place without yelling oneself hoarse or using the IR comms system. As that wasn’t always ideal for training and so on, Brains had installed small headsets so the two pilots could communicate privately.

Of course a truly private conversation was a rare treat and Scott had taken full advantage of that during the half hour flight to their destination. As it turned out, he had a lot of ideas about how they might spend their free morning and had run them by her in some detail.

By the time they arrived she was wound so very tightly she’d leapt over the top of the seat before he’d even got the autopilot engaged. It had been a more than little hairy for a moment, albeit they both dissolved into hysterics as soon as it was clear One wasn’t about to become an unexplained fireball to add to the mystique of the mountain range below them.

Scott smiled to himself at the memory. Perhaps not their most responsible hour… In any case, the mutual near death experience had led to child five’s eventual appearance… so all’s well…

This morning, the journey was necessarily longer and the conversation perhaps a little more suitable-for-all-audiences. But he treasured it all the same. The sound of her voice never failed to soothe the uncertain, scratchy parts of his soul. Together, things just made more sense.

One’s cheerful song filled the rest of his hearing and everything was right with the world. Without travelling a whisker over Mach 7 they reached the Himalayas well before dawn managed to. After ensuring the autopilot would do the business this time (see, he could learn), Scott pushed back the shoulder guards, leaned around and reached back to grasp his wife’s hand.

“Right, give me a second.” She took a breath and steadied herself before reaching a foot tentatively forwards towards the footplate. She was a little less sure of her step these days, her famously steady hand shaking a little within their white knuckled grip on each other. He worried about that, the same way he worried that she was a little slower, a little thinner.

A little more fragile.

But then, he supposed, so was he.

If she slipped, could he still pull her up? He thought so, he was still lifting rather more in the gym than his medic-approved fitness plan recommended. But even then, the entirety of her body weight dangling by one arm would likely be… bad… for her arthritic shoulder.

He twisted more and reached around with his other arm to catch her round the waist. His back complained a little. He ignored it. Mostly. At least, he didn’t groan out loud. You’re not old until it’s audible.

Perhaps at some point the two of them would have to admit this was a ridiculous thing for a couple of their age to be doing and find a park bench to sit on to watch the sunrise like all the normal, sensible OAPs. But as she finally made it around to the front, fell into his lap and snuggled against his shoulder he thanked whoever might be listening that today was not that day. They had never really achieved normal or sensible so it seemed a little late to start pretending now.

His arms settled around her as naturally as they always had. He buried his face in her hair, as silver now as his own had been for the last twenty years, but the scent that surrounded him was the same as the first day he’d held her.

A shaft of gold burst over the horizon and bathed them in its warmth. They both knew full well the ship was so highly insulated that the internal temperature sensor wouldn’t even have flickered but they’d both swear they felt it even so.

These days they appreciated the unique view a little more. For a few minutes at least.

She’d obviously been pondering the same memories he had as, with a little huff of mirth she raised an arm to point out one of the shadowy outcrops below.

“You know… it must be thirty years to the day since I almost made you nosedive into that particularly pointy hunk of rock.”

“I believe you’re right…” He couldn’t resist a little smirk “… although it didn’t end so badly as I recall… happy birthday to me.”

She looked up at him. He looked back. The eye twinkling thing was involuntary, it really was. Apparently she thought otherwise and whacked him on the chest.

“Stop that train of thought right there, old man, I’m not as agile as I was.”

He pouted. She raised an eyebrow. He finally gave into the desire to stroke it softly and murmured:

“Can’t help it, you being so pretty and all.”

She blushed then, which made everything ten times worse and they forgot about the sunrise for a while.

As if summoned by the earlier conversation, the resulting and now very much grown-up child in question appeared on the comm but neither of them noticed Mal’s hologram pop up until the horrified squawk transported Scott immediately back to Alan’s teenage years.

“Dad, what the hell are you doing in Kathma… MOM! DAAAAD! Aaaaaggggghhhh my eyessss. You can’t DO that in a Thunderbird, it should be illegal!”

She giggled. Scott’s lip quirked. Apparently the near completion of his third decade had not entirely exorcised the angst-ridden whine. Scott refused to lift his eyes from her face but winked and dropped his voice into the tone that still made all but one of his children jump to attention:

“Do what, exactly, Malcolm?”

There was a pause, before the whine intensified in another direction:

“Uncle Virgil! Dad and Mom are… are… well… SMOOCHING in One and it’s inappropriate and… and unhygienic, please tell him to stop.”

A familiar rumbling laugh could be heard retreating in the background as his brother firmly refused to get involved. Uncle Gordon, however, clearly saw an opportunity to broaden the education of his clearly-far-too-sheltered 29 year old nephew:

“I’d wager he’s done a lot worse than that young Mallie. Oh the stories that little silver firework could tell…”

“That’s no way to talk about your sister in law.” John interjected.

Scott snorted and his wife cackled.

“Don’t call me Mallie. And ugh, I did NOT need that mental image!”

It would have been a waste not to fully appreciate his son’s tormented facial expression and he would never be fully able to turn down the chance to show Gordon how it was done. Thus Scott kissed his beloved on the nose then finally looked up at the hologram with a smirk:

“Just as well for you really, son, else you would not have existed.”

The jaw drop was most pleasing. As was the subsequent gulping fish impression.

“That… that is not the sort of thing a person needs to know about… himself.”

“I didn’t know you were such a bashful butterfly, Marshmallow.” It seemed his mother was unable to resist a little light teasing of her own - the deployment of the childhood nickname a low blow.

“I’m not! It’s just… at your age… it’s not safe! I bet you have no safety harnesses! One is more risky than the others. What about your heart, Dad?”

A line had been crossed. Nobody made reference to that little… incident… and got away with it. Particularly when they were the prime suspect in yesterday’s washbasin-lizard prank that had probably put more strain on the senior Tracy heart than any more pleasurable pursuits could inflict.

Revenge could take so many forms…

“I’ve ravished your mother in plenty more dangerous places, Malcolm, and plan to continue to do so as long as possible. So unless there was a pressing question you had… I’d like to get back to the task in hand.”

He squeezed her knee and winked. She whalloped him again and hissed his name disapprovingly while utterly failing to convey any sense of genuine disapproval.

He was going too far and he knew it, the poor lad had gone from hologram blue to hologram purple and he could hear Gordon guffawing fit to rupture something in the background. But when he could feel the love of his life pressed against his chest and shaking with silent hysterics he couldn’t stop himself. He’d always loved making her laugh… it was his greatest weakness.

“You… I cannot believe you said that, Father. Out loud. I… I am returning your birthday present!”

Scott was about to feign a sad face when a quiet comment whispered into his ear made him cackle.

“Awww shucks, but I guess I’ll live. Your Mom reckons hers will make up for it.”

It was good for the self-proclaimed heir to Gordon’s throne to be on the receiving end of the teasing for once and Scott had no regrets. Although he did choke slightly when the raven haired 13-year old offspring of his eldest daughter wandered into shot, grinning, gave a cheeky salute and called “Go Grandpa!”

He was for it now.

“Now look what you’ve done! She’ll be traumatised! And Loopy Lu will kill you dead. Deader than dead.”

“Not if she hears you call her that first, she’ll be too busy hunting you to bother with me. Why don’t you go and be a supportive uncle and minimise the terrible trauma I’ve inflicted. We’ll be back for dinner.”

“You’d better.”

A finger was wagged with impotent menace.

“And if you’re smiling sickeningly when you are… there will be consequences!”

“Good to know.” Scott swiped the hologram away.

They sat together quietly for a few moments, content with just the sound of each other’s breath. The sun had truly risen now and was already too bright to look at. Scott pushed away the irritation at missing the moment - the sun rose every day after all - they didn’t need the excuse of An Occasion to come and watch that particular little trick. They could even come back tomorrow. Although maybe he would try to find some sort of light harness… just in case.

His wife chuckled to herself again and sighed “We probably won’t live that one down for a while.”

Scott lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles one by one.

“What would you like to do now?”

She paused for a moment as she ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. “Pigeon Island isn’t far… you could land and we could go for a walk along the shore?”

“It’ll be pretty empty down there at this time of day.”

“Precisely.”

He grinned and put his hands back on the control levers.

“Well as we have been vigorously reminded, health and safety is paramount so you’d better hold on tight, Mrs Tracy.”

“I always do.”

Thunderbird One performed a wide arc over the highest place Earth had to offer before her scram jets squealed in delight as the trio chased the dawn across the sky.

[gumnut-logic]

Random flyby whump scene

This one is @idontknowreallywhy ‘s cat’s fault. (Though I have to say that the cat wasn’t the one who disseminated details across to the other side of the planet :D So @idontknowreallywhy is definitely an accomplice in crime :D )

It’s just a scene. Sorry that I’m not up to writing a whole story right at the moment, but I hope this generates some interesting images in any case :D

Oh, and all the language warnings - Scotty is NOT a happy boi.

-o-o-o-

“It’s fucking cahelium!”

He snapped. One fucking straw too many and this asshole-

“Commander, that is enough!” His father’s cold voice cut across everything and Scott froze.

Just like Pavlov’s fucking dog.

He swallowed bile.

But his father was right. They did not have time. “Has Brains found a solution?”

“Brains agrees with Michael. We will use Thunderbird Three to lift Two and hopefully reach Virgil.” Dad’s voice was calm and a balm on Scott’s frayed nerves. “Hopefully there will be no need to cut into her hull.”

Michael was stoic as all hell and Scott knew he should be the same. But there was something about the green baldric the former Mechanic was wearing. Muddy and stained as any of them.

But not buried under 406 tonnes of Thunderbird plus the landslide that had destabilised her perch on the side of the mountain. Both men had been under Virgil’s ‘bird having just finished packing up and boarding her to take off for home.

And Michael wasn’t the one buried because Virgil had sacrificed himself to throw the man free.

Scott was a professional, he was, really was, despite the cracks in what was left of his facade, and his beloved brother needed saving.

“Three is on her way.” Again his father’s voice through comms stabilised the fear churning in Scott’s belly. “Gordon is with Alan.”

“Good.”

Michael’s shoulders dropped just slightly under his uniform.

Scott grit his teeth.

Virgil had formed a good working relationship with Michael, often teaming up with the mechanic on situations that required all the engineering skill sets. Today had been like any other. Pulling living and dead out of a village that had been a safe place for hundreds of years…until climate change dried out the forests on the mountains above and then burnt them to the ground. Storms churning off the warming oceans increased the precipitation higher up and the lack of ground cover led to erosion and then things like this happened.

Far too often.

Scott had to admit that Michael was excellent in the danger zone.

But right now he was walking free while Virgil was buried under his ‘bird.

And Scott hated him for it.

-o-o-o-

[supersumc]

Heroes of Ryperna: Earth's Rise

Prologue

The Sands of Time

It was in the wee hours when the coyote Terra awoke in her bed with a start. A rare thunderstorm was raging in the middle of the night as the howling wind blew rain against the muscovite panes. Her senses were heightened, knowing that something world-changing was happening though she couldn't tell whether it was right or wrong. Donning her flax nightgown and fastening its squirrel-bone pins, she softly treaded through the cliffside sandstone palace in the city of Pueblosa. She gently opened one of the grand acacia doors to the throne room, gazing upon the pillars lining the path to the throne she had occupied for the last 90 years. She knew she would soon be another one of the semblances of chieftains and chieftesses past carved out of the pillars.

The coyote had two faces on the front and back of her head, with limbs to match, and Rypernans never knew if they were looking at her the right way. She traced the names of those before her with the twin tails on each side of her body. Reverently, she read them aloud: "Gaia the Lioness, The One Who Awakened; Dustin the Ferret, The Disgraced and Unnamed; A’Tuin the Tortoise, The One Who Carried All; Onuuar the Aurochs, The Wise and Strong; Atlas the Aardwolf, The Hunter of Crawlers..." As she came to a blank pillar after passing several more chieftains and chieftesses that came before her, she couldn't help but wonder, What of me? What will my legacy be?

Arriving at last at her throne, she heard the large doors behind her shut as talons clicked on ceramic tiles. "You didn't have to come, Brontus," Terra said as she faced the thunderbird approaching her from behind. She briefly wondered if he were responsible for the storm outside, then dismissed the thought. He only wielded lightning; controlling a whole storm was as of yet not anyone’s ability as far as they knew.

"And miss the opportunity to see my wife off into her next life of feralhood? No, I think I shall indeed come, and come I did. Besides, how else will the other Primes know where to search for the next Prime Wielder of Earth and Spacetime?"

She sighed. "I remember when I saved you from that giant wolf, all those years ago, at the cost of what I was,” she digressed. “You loved me from then on, whether I was badger or coyote."

"89 years have passed since then," he replied, concern evident in his voice as he continued, "Though our bonds with the elements through wielding them grant us longer lives than the Feral beasts and the Wieldless, that is still no mean feat for such threats that you faced."

"And what would have happened had I died during that time?" Terra sighed as she folded her legs atop her bronze throne, the seat's back unyielding to her rear-facing limbs. "The unraveling of time and space? The end of the world? Feh, we may be Prime Wielders of the elements, but we aren't Primals. That age, when the elements themselves were said to be at stake, passed with the end of Gaia's Awakening."

"'Nearly thirty-five hundred years have passed since she sacrificed herself to stop the Draconian Wielders, passing her power from Primal to Prime,'" Brontus recited. "Some Primes lived far longer than you and I, in days when wars and conflicts were few and far between, while some reigned but a few months as assassins sought them out." He glanced at Dustin's pillar, sighing through his nostrils. "The poor lad had his part of the chronicle written without him."

"You will tell Sylvia the truth about herself when the day comes, yes?" Brontus nodded, and Latrana Terra Mawwed beckoned her husband forward, whispering in his ear, "Then listen closely, for my time grows short: Watch the bands of Time where the Earth is cut deep, the tales of yore laid bare by the passage below: there the next Prime Wielder is conceived this day."

Thor Brontus Mawwed nodded, writing the words on the back of the throne with lightning. As Terra's body started to glow, it shrank and reformed itself into a young coyote and a young badger eager to escape the city into the wilderness beyond. There, the cycle of Feral to Feral-Born could begin anew. Orbs of light trailed from the animals to a pillar as it left the hall, reforming the stone into Terra's appearance and carving in the plinth the words below:

Terra the Badger and Coyote

The One Who Broke Barriers for Honor

The ceremony of the transition of power to the chieftain-in-standing the following day was a solemn one. Outside the courts of the Prime Wielders, most Rypernans believed that the Primes died when the next generation of Primes conceived, and that might as well have been the case because of all the mental changes that occurred when they transitioned from Wielder to Feral. Those that visited the throne rooms said that the Primes’ Rypernan souls were housed in the walls and pillars of the palace, for the eyes of rulers past seemed to follow them from sculpted semblances. They then added that the souls within the Ferals left behind were those of mere beasts. Others said that the souls of Primes transformed from those of Rypernans to those of animals, for wielding Pawd-like power must come with a cost in the end: after all, they didn’t see billions of animals cavorting about the Eustrom. Many Rypernans shushed the latter group of people when they shared their beliefs, for they feared the implications of them being correct. Far better to have beasts replace their souls, leaving them to haunt the palace they ruled, they reasoned, than being cut off from Pawd for all eternity or no longer existing. Neither group was right.

These thoughts lay heavy on the minds of the servants as they readied the palace for its audience. By the time the sundial in the plaza reached 3 in the afternoon, they were ready to open the gates to the citizens of Pueblosa. Many elders in the boroughs of the cities and towns throughout Mesartis were cubs, pups, or kits when Terra took her place on the bronze throne, and thus they had the most to say about her. One such elder, a badger by the name of Bartholomew Bauson, had this to say about the circumstances of her rule and where she left them:

“I’ll be frank with all of you: I do not like the system we currently have, where the Wielders make the decisions, for they live far longer than we average folk unless sword or poison takes them. But Terra was a good ruler, and I’ll be darned if we have a better one.

“My parents were excited when a badger became the Prime Wielder of Earth. Even though she lost her badger-hood because of the Gorgantuan Wolves, she was still well-accepted in the Sett Streets - after all, badgers and coyotes are good friends. She met her husband during that crisis, our chieftain-in-standing Brontus, and it was a match made in the Eustrom.”

He paused, letting a tear roll down his cheek. “All was well in Ryperna, in Mesartis...until the Wieldless of Minartia, the people of the nation of the Stone Wielder, revolted and cast him and the Wielders into the mines, sealing them off from the surface on pain of death should they try to escape captivity. The loss of trade from them to Arcterra to the rest of us caused a civil war to break out in Arcterra, and thus two Primes were lost or exiled.

“The outcome of the tragedy has been clear. For the last 79 years, the Wielders have isolated themselves from us Wieldless. They only come out when duty calls and when they gather our youth and the Feral-Born for the Eustrom Festival. I pray that by the time the next Prime comes into power, the Wielders in this land that we all share will intermingle with us once more.

“For my parents always told me, ‘You cannot expect those living in shining towers of tusks to understand the needs of the people scrubbing them clean.’”

The ceremony proceeded after Grandpa Bauson was assisted off the stage to stand with his family, and soon everyone was being sent back to their homes. Later that day, while Brontus sat on the throne, a mephitic servant reminded him that it was time to start making preparations for the Eustrom Festival in five months. When Brontus asked why, the skunk responded, “It may be only Febrooary, sir, but you need to lead a search for every young Rypernan who is 16 to 18 years old, as well as any Feral-Born. It ranges across Mesartis to Mervenia in the southeast, Caldéara to the west, and the Aera’nos in the north.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, should it?”

“The process takes 4 months - 3 when the Prime of Earth, Space, and Time is around to help - and we always end up missing at least a few Feral-Born who are drawn to the festival in Julycan like moths to a flame. As you would know, the Gorgantuan Wolves were a pair of Feral-Born.”

“Yes, and we don’t want anything like that happening again. Very well, send some teams of Wielders out.” Brontus leaned back in the throne and draped a wing over his eyes. He was not having a good first day, and he wondered if Terra ever secretly used her wielding of spacetime for illegitimate purposes to get away from it all.

“I do hope you understand, sir, that the Pueblosan Council of Elders has decided that you will be leading the team on the primary route, as a way of engaging more with the populace.”

“Eh?” he asked, parting the feathers to reveal his eyes.

Thus, Brontus and a group of his fellow Wielders set out from Pueblosa to the border town of Malhimar on the edge of the savanna bordering the foothills. Within the mountains beyond lay the gateway to the Eustrom, but they would not go there just yet. Surrounded by walls of balboa logs planted upright and sharpened to points, the town was used as a trading post between the Mesartisans and the Aera’nos. On the streets around the town square where Rypernans of plains and mountains alike hawked their wares, he came across a young bat-eared fox named Anna panhandling. Recognizing her, he approached and said, “This is no place for a vixen like you. What happened after the last two festivals? Why are you out on the streets?”

“After the last festival, my parents threw me out,” Anna explained, her head shamefully bowed. “They died when their den burned down after a trade with the Tauriscians went awry.”

Brontus frowned. Yet another orphan as a result of the Tauriscians - the name Minartia’s Wieldless took upon themselves after a mishap with their Prime’s experiments - and their insane terms of trade, and this one less than a year from independence. Something has to be done. He sighed, knowing she would likely end up a Wieldless, and took her under his wing figuratively and literally. At the festival, his suspicions were confirmed, but at least she would have a roof over her head. As they passed a canyon on their trek home, singing “Lionhearted,” she told him, “I don’t know how or why, but I get the feeling that the next Prime Wielder has been born.”

Meanwhile, in a hollow in the canyon's walls, a feral ringtail was experiencing pains that she never had before. Crying out, she gazed forlornly for the one who had fed her throughout her pregnancy, only for him to leave her alone and guard the den. Finally, with a pop, the troublesome passage was done, and four other kits followed without the pain that had plagued her so.

Their father returned, bearing a rat for the mother, and she had a well-deserved feast after her labors. They both stared at the first-born, the one who had risked the mother's safety with the pain he had caused her. His head was larger than the others', the forehead taking up about half of his face. There was no doubt that behind it slept a more advanced brain that would bring him above mere instinct. This one is different, they knew, and thus he deserves a name.

_____________________

The young ringtail, whom they named Trevor, grew much more slowly than his littermates. Many times over the course of the next three years the mother, whom he lovingly called Margit, nearly threw him out into the wilderness to fend for himself, but each time she did, some cosmic force kept her from doing so. Thus, the day came when, in a kitless year, she and Trevor were lounging in one of their dens when a thunderstorm unleashed a tide of water that swept them out. Putting Trevor ahead of herself, Margit grabbed him with her teeth by the nape of his neck and put him atop a branch that was floating by. She was too heavy for it, though, so she could only watch as he cried out for help for both of them. They were his first words: "Help, I'm stuck!"

Meanwhile, above Gaia's Canyon, Umbrina, a mountain lion and newly christened Wielder of Shadow, was patrolling the nighttime camp alongside Brontus. As the others in their entourage slept, cries for help were heard as they neared the canyon's edge. Even though Terra's prophecy was on their minds, it was the middle of a dark and stormy night, a time when mimic birds - abominable lyrebirds cursed by the Void - would be doing their hardest to snatch someone from the caravan. Thus, the cries for help had been ignored despite sounding unfamiliar.

It’s been a long journey from the Eustrom Festival, where the young Rypernans that came of age this past year gathered to be tested by the elements in a realm beyond our own to receive a power that they must bear with responsibility. Three times, once per year, young Rypernans are tested before they are deemed Wieldless, common folk that did the jobs necessary to keep civilization going. Some are happy with this lot, as Wielders have much expected of them, especially when the nations have disagreements that can only be put aside on this day of truce. Those who are unhappy with the arrangement are often not heard from again when they try a fourth and last time despite recommendations against it. The Primes are apart from these squabbles, for they are expected not only to lead but to hold the balance should things start to escalate too far. Only twice have things gone out of paw, and the second time saw the loss of two nations to other forces, their Primes exiled... That was during Terra's reign. These thoughts were on Brontus' mind as he saw Umbrina dash to the canyon wall before jumping into the froth below. The cries had increased in intensity as she shadow-jumped to the bottom. Bewildered, he saw her down there, swimming toward a young ringtail hanging on to a branch and one that appeared to be drowning, and he could hear the young one's cries from where he stood: "Please, someone, help! I can't hold on much longer... Mommy, please be okay, please!"

As Umbrina grabbed them, she went under the lip of the canyon before she appeared behind Brontus in his shadow cast by the moonlight. Turning around, he saw her wet and sodden, her four mawed tentacles shining wet with water as her fur clung to her like grass in the rapids. Solemnly, she set the young ringtail - who at first glance seemed to be no more than three months old due to being Feral-born - down along with his mother. "I...I tried to save them both, but..."

The ringtail child let out an ear-splitting wail as he lunged toward his drowned parent. "Mommy, no! You can't be dead, you can't be..." When he lay his paws on her, there was a distortion in the area around the two of them, as though the ground and air were turning into liquid. His mother's eyes opened and she breathed again, no water coming out of her lungs.

The two standing over them were awed at what had just happened, yet they could feel the eyes of a thousand mimic birds - killers of the young and old alike - upon them. "Umbrina," Brontus whispered sharply, "get them back to the camp, now!"

"We...we found the next Prime..." was all Umbrina could say as she gently scooped them up before disappearing again, forcing Brontus to run after her.

When we get back to Pueblosa, Brontus thought angrily, I'm going to have a talk with that girl...

________________________

Meanwhile, in a different plane of existence, a hydra-like python with six heads, six limbs, and six tails, each recurring to the third degree, stood alongside a dragon who was neither of light nor darkness. They gazed upon the events unfolding and, from a thousand viewpoints, maliciously stared at the young child and the adolescent cougar, well on their way to the capital of Mesartis. "Thissss will be interessting, yess?" the snake hissed sibilantly, rubbing its 144 finger-maws together.

"Yes, and this time, we have no intention of watching and waiting," the dragon growled. "We shall make a return to Ryperna and conquer it completely, as you once did with your nation, and no Primal Wielder’s awakening can stop us this time."

"Indeed... Gather the otherss trapped here in Dracona. We have work to do, and much iss to be accomplisshed before the child iss of age..."

____________

Okay, might as well start posting some Heroes of Ryperna content here, so Imma reblog this with the "first draft" prologue and the following five chapters so I can go back to worldbuilding with occasional insights from dreams.

[loopstagirl]

It had been fun to start with, zigzagging up a slope, defying gravity. But as he completely another turn, Virgil decided the novelty had well and truly worn off.

His neck protested as he looked up. Until now, he'd been staring at the ground, concentrating on his turns and refusing to see how far he still had to go. He wished he hadn't looked; it was some distance to the top.

Coming to a stop, Virgil wedged his skis and released the button, flexing his hand as the motor cut out. His fingers had cramped, and switching hands didn't seem to help, only shared the pain. Brains would have to come up with a better way than this. His hands were too important!

He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease both his neck and his back from the weight of the pack. He should've let John take it, after all. His brother had more patience with things like this. Right now, Virgil only wanted to reach the top, and then find the hot springs Alan had mentioned.

He flicked the motor on again and jolted in surprise. For the past hour (was it only an hour? It felt like a lifetime!), he'd been listening to the steady drone of the pack, a constant buzz. But this had been more like the roar of an engine.

For a second, Virgil glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see the pack was on fire. But it was running perfectly, the soft purr telling him it was active even as he gained momentum again.

He looked up.

Flurries of snow were shooting into the air near the top of the peak. Virgil squinted, trying to make out what was setting it off. His family didn't exactly have a good track record with snowy mountains…

Read the rest ->