Sebastian likes frogs. Emphasis on the word likes.
He appreciates them, they do good for the environment. They eat up all the nasty flies that buzz around the mountain lake, too. He doesn’t have to worry about mosquitos snaking on his blood while he smokes. It’s just a plus that he finds them cool and interesting.
Which most people find weird. Sebastian thinks it’s weird that they find it weird. Frogs aren’t going out of their way to bother people.
Yes, he likes them. They’re his favorite animal, certainly.
But favorite is not enough for him to want to smooch a frog.
“Sam, I’m not gonna fucking kiss a frog.”
“C’mon! It’ll be like the movie!” Sam teases, insistently shoving Sebastian to the frog innocently sitting on a park bench. “Who knows, maybe it’ll be your very own froggy princess—”
“Didn’t the girl turn into a frog when she kissed it,” he shoots back, elbowing Sam backwards in the gut. The blond lets out an overdramatic hiss of pain, bent over and clutching his stomach. “Abby, back me up here.”
“I never watched that stuff,” Abigail shrugs, watching with amusement. She makes no move to help at all, comfortably resting against the wide wooden posts of a fence. “Watched a lotta cartoons though. Phineas and Ferb is my jam.”
“Not about the movie,” Sebastian grits exasperatedly. His brows knitting together in frustration “The frog.”
“Mhm, go on,” a cheshire-like grin on her face. “Kiss it, Seb. A big smooch right on its slimy mouth.”
Sam eggs him on, the pain of being elbowed magically disappearing. “Do it! Do it!”
Sebastian presses his lips tightly together. There’s no use resisting once Abby and Sam band together. They’re a force to be reckoned with like this—demanding and overbearing. Sebastian exasperatedly wipes a hand over his face, shooting the poor frog a sorry look.
Sam pushes him one more time, he gives him a stony glare in return. “Fuck—alright! Stop being so damn loud, you’ll scare it away.”
The frog in question croaks slightly, like it senses the trio talking about it. He gives it a wary glance.
As he slowly approaches, Sebastian can hear Abby and Sam’s satisfied sniggering behind him. They roped him into doing another stupidly outrageous thing for the umpteenth time.
He sighs, he really needs better friends.
Mustering up all his courage, he bends down, almost eye level with the frog, resting a hand on the wooden grain bench on where it’s perched upon.
He screws his eyes shut and goes for it.
Sebastian’s lips connect with the frog’s slimy, almost rough skin. So fast and featherlight that it can barely be considered a kiss. Cold against his lips. He pulls back immediately after, wiping any residue off his lips with the back of his hand.
The frog jumps, croaking with,what he assumes is, alarm.
“See?” Abby laughs, ruffling his hair good-naturedly. “No princess in sight. You didn’t turn into a frog either!”
“Man,” Sam snickers, patting him roughly on the back. Sebastian groans with every smack. “It would’ve been cool though, if you turned into a frog. We’d have a frog drummer in our band!”
Sebastian shoves his unruly friends off. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s get going. The frog is probably traumatized.”
“You can check that off your bucket list,” Abby teases, a smirk playing on her lips. “Kiss a frog before I die. We’ll tell the story for generations.”
Sam howls with laughter, Sebastian feels absolutely mortified.
Before the trio could make any move out of the park, a cloud of green smoke curtains the frog, so thick and so unusual. Sebastian unconsciously backs away from it.
“What—woah,” Sam says, more mezmerised than shocked at the green smoke pouring out of the frog Sebastian kissed. “What is that?”
“The fuck if we know, Sam!”
“Boys, boys, shut the fuck up. Look.”
Abigail points at the fog. It grows and grows, stopping and dissipating once the whole bench is covered with the green mist.
The frog is gone—disappeared into thin air. Instead, a not-so-frog shaped person sits. You blink up at Sebastian slowly.
Woah, woah.
He feels his heart accelerating—for all the wrong reasons. An unusual thumping sound that vibrates all throughout his body—his fingertips, his stomach, his toes. Where there should be fear and panic and definitely fear, Sebastian feels exhilaration.
You’re pretty.
It’s also pretty horrifying for him to think—and feel.
You blink slowly—a frog-like trait that cement his suspicions. You’re staring up at him as he stares back down at you, curious meets bewildered. “…”
His eyes are wide, scanning each and every part of your now not frog-like features. Sebastian feels cold sweat dripping down his forehead—a stark temperature difference to the heat in his cheeks. “Oh—oh shit.”
“Uhm… ribbit?”
-
Another thing he blames on Sam and Abby—his horrifying attraction you; the person, not the frog.
He checks that off his metaphorical bucket list, too.
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Some Runaway to the Stars worldbuilding. The poles of the avian homeplanet both have permanent sea ice fields, which are difficult for life to colonize for the same reason sand dunes are. The surface constantly shifts (although much slower than a dune) as it's shaped by wind, currents, melting, and precipitation.
In the North pole, the dominant ecosystem on the ice is globe fields, which are full of conglomerate balls of moss and frost tolerant worm plants. They very slowly roll across the ice, being pushed uphill by the worms into sunlight as their thermal mass slowly melts whatever ice they sit upon.
All of the moss globes are host to a suite of small cold tolerant invertebrates, but a small fraction are also nests for globe bunnies. These small endotherms hollow out the inside of mossball and pack it with insulation. They feed voraciously on invertebrates and other mossballs, though they will also trim the "lawn" surrounding their house, to keep it at a manageable size and roundness for rolling about.
Polar avians find the globe bunnies tasty. The watercolor painting here features one of the larger coastal cities on the North pole landmass. It is essentially one large interconnected building, in classic polar avian style.
PATREON | STORE | Runaway to the Stars
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I had a really fun drawing session with @bunni-hopper the other day! We were just drawing Keroro stuff, and I ended up drawing a sort-of reference for Giroro to make up for the fact that I drew him in regular dress shoes last time. Shame on me! He's a combat boots man!!
Some details/headcanons:
Keronians don't have "ethnicities", but I had him be Viet in mind.
Giroro is the 2nd tallest of the Keroro Platoon.
In the original series, he has a crush on Natsumi, but in this gijinkaverse of sorts, he sees her as a rival.
I imagine him (along with Keroro and Dororo) to be in his mid-30s.
Has a crush on Kururu, but is in severe denial (Kururu knows and takes full advantage of this).
More or less the same as his original counterpart: very serious and hot-headed.
He still has a photo of his family in his belt buckle, and he will never replace it!
Writes surprisingly good poetry. Once submitted it to a radio show, and it made many girls cry.
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I got curious thinking about some things, so what animal have you found with the most memorable (or weird) blood? Kind of an odd question, but I'm curious.
There are a bunch of frogs and also several lizards that have green blood, full of biliveridin, a waste product produced in the liver that is foul tasting to predators, and may also have immune benefits to the animals. So that’s fun! Boophis septentrionalis from Madagascar has this. Here’s one with a broken leg (actually missing a foot) where the whole limb has gone blue:
(Sorry for the weird photo frame, this is from Ye Olde Internet)
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