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This Week in Rust 505

Hello and welcome to another issue of This Week in Rust! Rust is a programming language empowering everyone to build reliable and efficient software. This is a weekly summary of its progress and community. Want something mentioned? Tag us at @ThisWeekInRust on Twitter or @ThisWeekinRust on mastodon.social, or send us a pull request. Want to get involved? We love contributions.

This Week in Rust is openly developed on GitHub and archives can be viewed at this-week-in-rust.org. If you find any errors in this week's issue, please submit a PR.

Updates from Rust Community

Official

crates.io Postmortem: Broken Crate Downloads

July 2023 Leadership Council Update

Foundation

My first three months at the Rust Foundation

Project/Tooling Updates

IntelliJ Rust Changelog #199

Fyrox Game Engine 0.31

Writing a Rest HTTP Service with Axum

Observations/Thoughts

Totality

Why the “Null” Lifetime Does Not Exist

First report: More than 80% of the crates link to their public VCS

[video] Aram Drevekenin – Zellij - A terminal workspace with batteries included

Rust Walkthroughs

Make invalid states unrepresentable

A visual tree iterator in Rust

A gentle introduction to IMAP

ESP32 Standard Library Embedded Rust: UART Communication

Shuttle Launchpad #3: Sudoku, Ownership and Error Handling

[video] Pragmatic Intro to Rust Web Development: Overview

Research

ResourceGauge: Enabling Resource-Aware Software Components (with Rust)

Miscellaneous

How to speed up the Rust compiler: data analysis assistance requested!

Programming language popularity: Rust

Llama2.rs - Inference Llama 2 in one file of pure Rust

Crate of the Week

This week's crate is tower-async, a currently nightly-only async library to build network servers, based on tower.

Thanks to Glen De Cauwsemaecker for the self-suggestion!

Please submit your suggestions and votes for next week!

Call for Participation

Always wanted to contribute to open-source projects but did not know where to start? Every week we highlight some tasks from the Rust community for you to pick and get started!

Some of these tasks may also have mentors available, visit the task page for more information.

Ockam - Investigate if the macOS toggle is possible in system tray app build with Tauri

Ockam - Avoid setting an embedded node as default for ockam project enroll

Ockam - ockam project ticket should return a proper error message

Hyperswitch - Migrate to enum_dispatch to reduce runtime overhead

Hyperswitch - Add Create Merchant and Create Merchant Key Store in a DB transaction

Hyperswitch - Use proxy exclusion instead of a separate proxied client

Hyperswitch - Add scoped error enum for customer error

If you are a Rust project owner and are looking for contributors, please submit tasks here.

Updates from the Rust Project

406 pull requests were merged in the last week

add mips64r6 and mips32r6 as target_arch values

add riscv64gc-unknown-hermit target

add x86_64-unknown-linux-ohos target

enable chkstk/alloca intrinsics on x86_64-unknown-uefi

Support .comment section like GCC/Clang (!llvm.ident)

add Alias to smir

add BITS, from_bits, to_bits to IP addresses

add FnPtr ty to SMIR

add Foreign, Never, FnDef, Closure and Generator tys to SMIR

add #[inline] to core debug assertion helpers

add dynamic for smir

add the no-builtins attribute to functions when no_builtins is applied at the crate level

add ty convs for smir refs and ptrs

allow opaques to be defined by trait queries, again

always const-prop scalars and scalar pairs

avoid tls access while iterating through mpsc thread entries

better diagnostics for dlltool errors

comment stuff in the new solver

don't translate compiler-internal bug messages

encode shorthands for spans in metadata

error/E0691: include alignment in error message

fix #[inline(always)] on closures with target feature 1.1

fix inline_const with interpolated block

fix invalid display of inlined re-export when both local and foreign items are inlined

fix removal span calculation of unused_qualifications suggestion

fix results search alias display

fix rustc-args passing issue in bootstrap

get !nonnull metadata on slice iterators, without assumes

get rid of subst-relate incompleteness in new solver

improve error message when closing bracket interpreted as formatting fill character

inline overlap based CGU merging

lint/ctypes: only try normalize

new solver: add a separate cache for coherence

new solver: don't consider blanket impls multiple times

on nightly, dump ICE backtraces to disk

permit pre-evaluated constants in simd_shuffle

prototype: add unstable -Z reference-niches option

querify unused trait check

refactor vtable encoding and optimize it for the case of multiple marker traits

remove Scope::Elision from bound-vars resolution

rename arg_iter to iter_instantiated

restrict recursive opaque type check

resurrect: rustc_llvm: Add a -Z print-codegen-stats option to expose LLVM statistics

reuse codegen_ssa monomorphization errors in codegen_gcc

reuse the MIR validator for MIR inlining

revert "Prototype: Add unstable -Z reference-niches option"

safe Transmute: Fix ICE (due to UnevaluatedConst)

substitute types before checking inlining compatibility

support --print KIND=PATH command line syntax

support interpolated block for try and async

turn copy into moves during DSE

tweak spans for self arg, fix borrow suggestion for signature mismatch

use SHA256 source file checksums by default when targeting MSVC

use features() over features_untracked() where possible

use erased self type when autoderefing for trait error suggestion

use the correct span for displaying the line following a derive sugge…

miri: make full field retagging the default

remove redundant clones

fix size_hint for EncodeUtf16

allow limited access to OsString bytes

make {Rc,Arc}::allocator associated functions

stabilize chown functions (unix_chown)

remove an allocation in Path::with_extension

remove the unstable core::sync::atomic::ATOMIC_*_INIT constants

remove lifetime bound for A for impl Extend<&'a T> for Vec<T, A>

hashbrown: publicly re-export Equivalent from the crate root

futures: add TryStreamExt::try_ready_chunks as failable version of StreamExt::ready_chunks

codegen_gcc: add instructions on how to generate GIMPLE format

codegen_gcc: add support for "ffi_const" function attribute

cargo: git: respect scp-like URL for nested submodules

cargo: credential provider implementation

cargo: fix "cargo doc --open" crash on WSL2

cargo: fix: encode URL params correctly for SourceId in Cargo.lock

cargo: fix: only skip mtime check on ~/.cargo/{git,registry}

rustdoc: strip impl if not re-exported and is doc(hidden)

rustdoc: fix position of default in method rendering

rustdoc: handle cross-crate RPITITs correctly

clippy: significant_drop_tightening don't lint literal-returning functions

clippy: significant_drop_tightening fix tuple drop recognition

clippy: inherent_to_string: Don't lint unsafe or extern fns

clippy: manual_filter_map: lint on matches and pattern matching

clippy: ptr_arg should ignore extern functions

clippy: redundant_pattern_matching: include guard in suggestion

clippy: unnecessary_literal_unwrap: fix ICE on None.unwrap_or_default()

clippy: unused_async: don't lint if paths reference async fn without immediate call

clippy: unwrap_or_else_default → unwrap_or_default and improve resulting lint

clippy: allow Self::cmp(self, other) as a correct impl

clippy: check for fully qualified paths in unnecessary_cast

clippy: check that the types are equal in SpanlessEq::eq_expr

clippy: fix unwrap_or_else_default false positive

clippy: fix async functions handling for needless_pass_by_ref_mut lint

clippy: fix: false positive for option_env! in ifs_same_cond

clippy: make comparison_to_empty work on if let/let chains

clippy: new lints: absolute_paths, error_impl_error, four_forward_slashes, iter_skip_zero, needless_return_with_try, redundant_guards, string_lit_chars_any, redundant_locals

clippy: refactor some of dereference.rs to util functions

clippy: remove #![allow(unused)] and --crate-name from cargo dev new_lint generated tests

clippy: rewrite tuple_array_conversions

rust-analyzer: editor/code: Use notification command links for debugger installation

rust-analyzer: fix highlighting of byte escape sequences

rust-analyzer: fix: don't follow raw pointer derefs when considering method receiver candidates

rust-analyzer: fix: lookup super traits in is_dyn_method

rust-analyzer: fix: normalize expected ty in call arguments

rust-analyzer: fix: report incorrect-ident-case for inner items

rust-analyzer: limit change_visibility assist to applicable items

rustfmt: prevent ICE when formatting an empty-ish macro arm

rustfmt: support non-lifetime binders

Rust Compiler Performance Triage

A relatively light week with respect to performance changes. The one major regressing PR was reverted (for other reasons), and we saw some very nice gains on compile-times from (1.) changes to our codegen-unit merging logic and from (2.) changes to the stdlib slice iterators encoding its non-null guarantees directly, allowing the removal of a call to the assume intrinsic.

Triage done by @pnkfelix. Revision range: 6b9236ed..0308df23

1 Regressions, 1 Improvements, 4 Mixed; 1 of them in rollups 35 artifact comparisons made in total

Full Report Here

Approved RFCs

Changes to Rust follow the Rust RFC (request for comments) process. These are the RFCs that were approved for implementation this week:

No RFCs were approved this week.

Final Comment Period

Every week, the team announces the 'final comment period' for RFCs and key PRs which are reaching a decision. Express your opinions now.

RFCs

No RFCs entered Final Comment Period this week.

Tracking Issues & PRs

[disposition: merge] make noop_method_call warn by default

[disposition: merge] Infer type in irrefutable slice patterns with fixed length as array

New and Updated RFCs

[new] Add "crates.io Policy Update" RFC

[new] RFC: Generic member access for dyn Error trait objects

[new] Error Display (std::error::Error::fmt_error)

Call for Testing

An important step for RFC implementation is for people to experiment with the implementation and give feedback, especially before stabilization. The following RFCs would benefit from user testing before moving forward:

No RFCs issued a call for testing this week.

If you are a feature implementer and would like your RFC to appear on the above list, add the new call-for-testing label to your RFC along with a comment providing testing instructions and/or guidance on which aspect(s) of the feature need testing.

Upcoming Events

Rusty Events between 2023-07-26 - 2023-08-23 🦀

Virtual

2023-07-26 | Virtual (Cardiff, UK)| Rust and C++ Cardiff

The unreasonable power of combinator APIs

2023-07-27 | Virtual (Charlottesville, NC, US) | Charlottesville Rust Meetup

Crafting Interpreters in Rust Collaboratively

2023-07-28 | Virtual (Tunis, TN) | Rust Meetup Tunisia

Rust Meetup Tunisia - Volume I, Number IV

2023-07-31 | Virtual (Linz, AT) | Rust Linz

Rust Meetup Linz - 31st Edition

2023-08-01 | Virtual (Berlin, DE) | OpenTechSchool Berlin

Rust Hack and Learn

2023-08-01 | Virtual (Buffalo, NY, US) | Buffalo Rust Meetup

Buffalo Rust User Group, First Tuesdays

2023-08-02 | Virtual (Indianapolis, IN, US) | Indy Rust

Indy.rs - with Social Distancing

2023-08-02 | Virtual (Stuttgart, DE) | Rust Community Stuttgart

Rust-Meetup

2023-08-08 | Virtual (Dallas, TX, US) | Dallas Rust

Second Tuesday

2023-08-10 | Virtual (Nuremberg, DE) | Rust Nuremberg

Rust Nürnberg online

2023-08-15 | Virtual (Berlin, DE) | OpenTechSchool Berlin

Rust Hack and Learn

2023-08-15 | Virtual (Washington, DC, US) | Rust DC

Mid-month Rustful

2023-08-16 | Virtual (Vancouver, BC, CA) | Vancouver Rust

Rust Study/Hack/Hang-out

2023-08-22 | Virtual (Dublin, IE) | Rust Dublin

Rust, Serverless and AWS

Asia

2023-07-27 | Seoul, KR | Rust Programming Meetup Seoul

Seoul Rust Meetup

2023-07-27 | Seoul, KR | T-RUST meetup

🦀 7/27(목) T-RUST Meetup 🦀 (+ 현직자 네트워킹 세션)

Europe

2023-07-27 | Copenhagen, DK | Copenhagen Rust Community

Rust metup #38 at Deloitte!

2023-07-27 | Vienna, AT | Rust Vienna

Rust Dojo

2023-08-17 | Reading, UK | Reading Rust Workshop

Reading Rust Meetup at Browns

2023-08-22 | Helsinki, FI | Finland Rust Meetup

Helsink Rustaceans First Gathering

2023-08-24 | Aarhus, DK | Rust Aarhus

Rust Aarhus Hack and Learn at Trifork

North America

2023-07-27 | Mountain View, CA, US | Mountain View Rust Meetup

Rust Meetup at Hacker Dojo

2023-08-01 | Chicago, IL, US | Deep Dish Rust

Rust Happy Hour

2023-08-07 | Minneapolis, MN, US | Minneapolis Rust Meetup

Minneapolis Rust Meetup Happy Hour

2023-08-10 | Mountain View, CA, US | Mountain View Rust Meetup

Rust Meetup at Hacker Dojo

2023-08-10 | Lehi, UT, US | Utah Rust

Building a simplified JVM in Rust

2023-08-15 | San Francisco, CA, US | San Francisco Rust Study Group

Rust Hacking in Person

2023-08-15 | Seattle, WA, US | Seattle Rust User Group Meetup

Seattle Rust User Group - August Meetup

2023-08-17 | Nashville, TN, US | Seattle Rust User Group Meetup

Rust goes where it pleases. Rust on the web and embedded

2023-08-23 | Austin, TX, US | Rust ATX

Rust Lunch - Fareground

Oceania

2023-07-27 | Brisbane, QLD, AU | Rust Brisbane

July Meetup

2023-08-08 | Aukland, NZ | Rust AKL

A Peek into GPU Computing + Safer Code with Code Generation

2023-08-09 | Perth, WA, AU | Rust Perth

August Meetup

If you are running a Rust event please add it to the calendar to get it mentioned here. Please remember to add a link to the event too. Email the Rust Community Team for access.

Jobs

Please see the latest Who's Hiring thread on r/rust

Quote of the Week

A rustacean is a programmer that dislikes being told "yes" in situations where they'll regret it later.

– Predrag Gruevski on mastodon

Thanks to Kevin Mehall for the suggestion!

Please submit quotes and vote for next week!

This Week in Rust is edited by: nellshamrell, llogiq, cdmistman, ericseppanen, extrawurst, andrewpollack, U007D, kolharsam, joelmarcey, mariannegoldin, bennyvasquez.

Email list hosting is sponsored by The Rust Foundation

Discuss on r/rust

#rust-lang #rust #rustlang #twir #long post

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oneofyatosfollowers · 3 years

Text

Yatori Week 2021- Day 2

@yatoriweek2021

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32090953/chapters/79500055

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13905660/1/Yatori-Week-2021

Most other creatures that walk the Earth didn’t know this but pigeons were a very proud species.

Being adopted from a long line of pure-blooded carriers and messengers, he had been given the very honorable names of Coo Phone, Smart Phone, and Smart Ho. After a spirit with glass over his eyes tied on his uniform- a white piece of cloth- he was handed off to another creature of the other side. One of the native existences of the other side who was brimmed with natural and unnatural power. When Coo Phone was first handed off to this existence, there had been another tiny spirit at his side with a similar power and a regular human female.

When Coo Phone had first settled in the large wooden bird house, it was clear he would have to serve two powerful spirits and two human souls. With ruffled feathers, Coo Phone carried out his job with pride. The tiny female spirit with the curly hair, the one called Kofuku, would often send letters to spirits on other pure lands. Hers often came in envelopes with many stickers that would fall off if the wind was too fast. Her human kin, called Daikoku, did not send letters very far, in fact he only sent them to her. At first Coo Phone was wary around this one’s massive size and booming roar, but he quickly proved to be a gentle soul. The spirit of the young human child was Coo Phone’s favorite. His name was Yukine and he was a sweet thing that actually appreciated Coo Phone’s services properly. Like the rest, he often sent messages to other pure lands and spirits in the metal and glass forest. The boy was also the only one who gave food on a regular basis and a snack after every hard mission.

It was his actual master that Coo Phone could not figure out. For starters, this powerful spirit was similar to Kofuku in that his existence was more sinister. Only instead of simply bringing misfortune, this being was made up of bloodlust and death. He was the one the others in the nest called Yato and he was typically loud and often moved with frantic, grand gestures. There were times Coo Phone sensed the underlying predatory instincts of his existence, but it was rare and he never acted on it. As such, it was Coo Phone’s duty to deliver the messages of this peaceful creature.

Despite receiving the majority of the messages, Yato only wrote one person: the human girl that frequented the nest. The others called her Hiyori. She would come, sit with Yukine, pet Coo Phone’s head and shoulders, then be on her way. As she walked away at the end of every day, the evil spirit was already leaning out the hole at the top of the nest, watching her closely. Being the brilliant messenger than he was, Coo Phone would start ruffling his feathers and prepare for the trip to Hiyori’s nest. Personally, Coo Phone found it rather normal, birds were often chittering in the tree until they fell asleep. It was odd the female just didn’t move it but it was possible she didn’t like Yato’s voice. Coo Phone should teach him to properly sing and dance so that they wouldn’t have to keep sending presents back and forth.

Especially since, at first, Hiyori didn’t seem to enjoy the messages Yato sent her. Once Coo Phone delivered the paper, she would glance over it as she gave Coo Phone some of her seeds. It didn’t take long for her to drop it. Even Coo Phone knew that if the present was not taken into the nest, that meant it wasn’t desirable. She would avoid Yato when she came to their nest during the day but she didn’t attack him when he approached so that was a good sign. At least, that was how it was at first. Eventually, the human didn’t look as irritated by his presence as she used to. Communicating with less of a growl than before, letting out a noise of joy and contentment more often at his chatter.

“I’m serious, Hiyori!” Yato was crowing, “I’ll show you if you don’t believe me!”

“I do believe you can do it! I just can’t believe you can!” She chirped back. They continued to twitter with each other, sometimes touching as they swayed back and forth. It was like they didn’t even notice Yukine had left ages ago. Meanwhile, Coo Phone watched from a comfortable spot in the opening, cocking his head at their strange swaying, trying to find the rhythm in their mating ritual.

That was around the time she started accepting the gifts he sent. Looking over the thin white leaves and their markings with careful attention to detail. Coo Phone remembered how delighted he was when she sent one back. Not only did it make the trip worthwhile but it showed the two were having somewhat of a proper correspondence. Hiyori didn’t answer often- Yato was always the last to send something anyway- but it did become more frequent. It eventually got to the point where Coo Phone would be tired from flying back and forth and have to spend the night in her nest, much to Yato’s annoyance.

“Hey Smart Ho,” the dark being suddenly approached. Coo Phone startled, wings fluttering as he hopped away. Being surrounded by so much evil made Coo Phone’s natural senses weak to it but he refused to fly away. Even though Yato seemed more jittery than usual.

“Can you send this letter for me?” He offered it kindly instead of just signalling Coo Phone like he normally did. Yato didn’t need to say where he was supposed to go, it was already implied. Either way, Coo Phone hopped forward and prepared for the trip to the human female’s nest. But Yato didn’t put it on right away, instead the letter was lowered and it stayed there. Coo Phone stared at it with one eye.

“I messed up.” Yato continued, “she must really hate me now. I promised her I wouldn’t leave but,” with a sigh, he stared out the window with a longing expression. Coo Phone glanced out the window to ensure there wasn’t a threat before he looked back at Yato. Perhaps the being was thinking of going on a journey again, as he often did. He was a migratory creature, Coo Phone’s come to realize, leaving for one natural reason or another and coming back after some moon cycles. When that happened, the nest seemed to dim and grow quiet. The others were not migratory and did not travel with him. Therefore they were rather lonely when he was gone, Yukine and Hiyori even more so. Coo Phone had tried his best to sing- to fill the house and cheer them up- but his song was hardly as loud, nor did it seem to help.

Recently, Yato had come back from his migration brutally injured and it had greatly upset Yukine and Hiyori. It was the most aggressive Coo Phone had ever seen them. However, this flock was strong, and they eventually lulled back into their routine. This was the first message Yato had sent since then and Coo Phone was ready to continue on supporting their courtship. With another ruffle of his feathers, and the gift secure, Coo Phone took off into the winter air on the usual route. But alas! Hiyori had locked all her windows and closed the curtains. Coo Phone had taped his beak on the clear barrier, but she did not answer, despite the fact he could hear her moving around. This wasn’t the first time Coo Phone was not allowed in the nest. At least she didn’t put up those wretched metal thorns again. Untying the letter, Coo Phone left it on the upper entrance to her part of the nest, then returned to a disappointed Yato. He didn’t send another gift after that.

Days later, Coo Phone was on his way back from delivering a message from Kofuku to one of the older spirits when he spotted his master and Hiyori along the stone path of the metal forest. Their tweeting was raised in pitch so Coo Phone had no choice but to stop and listen, alert for any danger to flee from. Hiyori attacked Yato- a common occurrence- and was prepared to walk away when Yato reached out and grabbed her. Coo Phone flapped his way towards a closer tree, hopping along the branch as the members of his flock squabled.

“Hiyori, please, I just wanted to protect you!” Yato squawked.

“No, you just wanted to take the easy way, where only you would get hurt!” Hiyori answered harshly.

“Exactly! That way no one else would need to get hurt! Ever!”

“You would!”

“That’s okay! I would reincarnate. Neither you or Yukine can do that. It’s for the best!”

“I didn’t make you that shrine so that you could reincarnate!” Hiyori’s shriek echoed throughout the area. Coo Phone flinched and ruffled his feathers at the sound. Water was leaking from the girl’s eyes and she appeared to stop fighting, realizing Yato wouldn’t let go of her skinny wing. When he noticed she stopped pulling, Yato took another step.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted- I was just trying to-!” another step “I didn’t want anyone else to die because of me.” He sounded so miserably sad, the type of sorrow only someone who lived forever would know. Hiyori turned to look at him, but only slightly, her wet face quickly turned to the ground.

“It was not for the best. You reincarnating is not for the best. You- this you- dying, will never be for the best. Yukine and I keep telling you it’s not okay when you get hurt, we don’t care if it’s for our sake or someone else's. We don't like it. We are not okay when you get hurt and we will not be okay if you were to die.” She cried, “I would not be okay.” Turning her body fully towards him, Yato’s hold on her loosened as the space between them closed even more. More water fell to the stone beneath them and she sniffed loudly a few times.

“I’m not okay.” Hiyori said. There was a long pause as Yato looked at the water splotches by his feet.

“I’m not okay either.” He admitted quietly after a long pause. When Hiyori finally looked up at him, his hair was covering his eyes. Instead, Coo Phone watched their wings drop slightly.

“Hiyori, I’m sorry, I messed up. It's my fault. Just-”

“It’s not your fault,” she clucked sharply, “well, it is and it isn’t but I know you learned your lesson.” She watched his head bob. It was unclear who stepped closer this time, but Hiyori’s head was just barely brushing his chest.

“And remember what you promised us?”

“Don’t kill anyone.”

“And?”

“Never to wander off again without asking.”

“We’re stronger together,” she nodded, “we’re safer together.” By now her head was fully resting on his chest and Yato watched the sky. Keeping watch for danger like a proper mate, Coo Phone was proud.

“You know, I wouldn’t be okay if you went away either.” Yato let his wings wrap around her gently, waiting for her to take the final step forward instead of pulling. She let her wings do the same.

“I know,” Hiyori sniffed, “please just stay with me.” She had her face buried as he took in a deep, deep breath and let it out slowly towards the sky. Coo Phone wondered if he wanted to fly away again, but he most likely wouldn’t anymore. Finally, after enough time had passed where Coo Phone was able to get comfortable, Yato looked down at her. The tips of his wings brushed under her hair and tried to wipe away the water. He nudged her eyes up and she blinked.

“I want nothing more.” He cooed. Yato continued to do his best to preen her face, eventually helping it to dry while she worked to stop sniffling. The air seemed lighter around them.

“But you know, I get mixed signals when you say things like that, then cry when I’m around,” Yato eventually clucked. She huffed and whacked him. As he warbled- considerably weaker than his usual noise- Hiyori looked back at the ground under them.

“How about I make it clearer then?” Before Yato could reply, she rose and let her beak rub against his, their mouths connecting. Coo Phone’s feathers fluffed up in embarrassment as he sunk his head into his shoulders. His eyes shut just as Yato’s did, Hiyori already in the moment. Coo Phone wondered why Hiyori accepted Yato’s advances without any sort of dance or song, the creature of darkness was hardly colorful, but some things were just meant to be.

“Does this mean you’ll let me in your room whenever?” Yato chirped when they separated.

“No it does not.”

“What about accepting gifts? Or going on dates every night instead of studying?”

“No, no, Yato, if you push it, not only will I jungle savate you but I’ll ignore all your messages.” At Hiyori’s call, Coo Phone got up and started to stretch. It seemed pointless for them to continue to share gifts when they were already together, but a proper carrier never questions the mission.

“What? All of them?” Yato whined, “even from our adorable precious baby Smart Ho?” He summoned Coo Phone again and the bird spread his wings and took off towards his master.

“Yes. Even them, if you take it too far,” Hiyori glared at him. They stared for a second before Yato let out a snort and twittered something at her, which she happily replied. As Coo Phone approached, Yato had her head in his wings again, his stubby beak preening her lovingly. She let out that same noise of happiness, louder and stronger than before as she covered his wings with hers. Their mouths pressed a couple more times, but it became difficult with their loud warbling. Yato managed to grab her, lifting her up in the air and spinning her around as she continued singing. Happy for them- and unable to properly land on his master- Coo Phone circled above them and cooed in celebration. He was so happy, in fact, that his insides clenched with joy and rippled with excitement.

“Oi bird brain!” Yato cawed from below. Frightened at the tone, Coo Phone looked down to see his master glaring up at him and waving his wing, a new spot of white dripping off his black head. With the threat in the spirit’s blue eyes, Coo Phone frantically flapped his wings away, deciding it was best to leave the two lovebirds alone.

#noragami #Noragami yato #yato noragami #yatori #yatori week #yatori week 2021 #hiyori #iki hiyori #hiyori iki #noragami fanfic #noragami fanfiction

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geesecannotlove · 3 years

Text

A little krbk thing I did for a prompt week on twitter.

•Hands•

Cw// foul language, minor injury

. . .

His hands shook with age and constant use. Old scars and calluses faded into a painting across his skin. His head tipped back, glaring at the ceiling as his finger throbbed where the knife had snagged his knuckle instead of the pepper on the cutting board.

"Fuck this." He hissed more out of frustration than anything else, anger pooling like tears in his eyes, "Stupid fucking knife." He leaned forward his wrists bracing himself as he hunched over.

It didn't hurt really, he'd been a pro hero for so long before now, he'd faced so much worse, but it was cutting his pride from the inside out and it made anger boil close to the surface, a painfully nostalgic feeling.

"Kats, 'm home." Eijirou, his forever sturdy hero. Now black hair long and speckled with grey like snow on pavement. He'd taken a job at UA in his old age, wanting to continue proving you don't have to be flashy to be good.

The strongest of mountains that never crumbled when their center erupted in sparks and anger. His skin hardening ever so slightly slower, but Katsuki's hands never as hot as they once were. He was all teeth and snarls. A wounded animal, but Eijirou wasn't afraid. He never had been. Careful crimson eyes trailing over the stiff form of his beloved, his knuckle red and angry, a small wound, nearly scabbed over. But he saw the way the blond's hands were shaking and he could see the pain pooling behind vermilion eyes as he tried to form a fist

"I missed you today." Eijirou said calmly, placing his things on their table and glazing over the problem for now, hoping to save Katsuki's wounded pride.

The blond had never dealt with sympathy well, and when he felt weak his tongue grew sharp and his eyes cold. Seeking to cut down anything in his path. But Kirishima was retired pro hero Red Riot; the sturdy hero. And no matter how many times they'd fought he remained unshaken in his love for the other. But he'd learned how to save them both their tears as he'd matured. Katsuki didn't respond right away his breaths still heavy and eyes wet with liquid frustration.

"Kaminari's granddaughter is in my class this year. Doesn't that make us sound old." Kirishima laughed easily.

Casually he'd migrated to the cutting board. Rinsing off the the pepper and knife, refusing to acknowledge the anger that rolled of Katsuki in waves as the blond watched his lover dice the pepper slow and steady.

"I love you Kats." Eijirou hummed.

"I love you too." It was grough and he sounded like he was chocking on his words.

Some days were like this. Katsuki's arms and hands would scream with age old inguries that never stopped hurting and he'd mourn the loss of something dear to him. It hurt Eijirou to see Katsuki like this, his beautiful strong husband full of doubt and frustration because they'd grown old together. It was bitter sweet, as they lived with the aftermath of chasing their childhood dreams.

"Will you stir this for me while I go change?" Kirishima asked carefully, gauging the flickering emotions across the blond's face.

"Sure." Katsuki sighed, his shoulders dropping and shaking hands grasping too tightly to the wooden spoon Kirishima had left behind.

Kirishima came back slowly, his hips aching with the beginning of spring and his arms heavy from where he'd activated his quirk too many times today. His salt and pepper hair in a loose bun and sweatpants hanging from his hips. Muscular arms that had softened with age wrapped around Katsuki's waist, a head barely resting on his shoulder in fear of hurting his arms.

"Will you let me clean that up." Kirishima whispered, his eyes locked on the still battered knuckle.

"It's not a big deal."

"Please Katsuki." Eijirou mumbled his face hidden in Katsuki's fluffy hair.

"Fine." Katsuki sighed, the tension from before had nearly completely left his body, his shoulders pressed against Eijirou's warm chest.

On days like this Katsuki felt a whirlwind of things. His muscles ached and screamed for him to stop, but his mind refused to acknowledge he'd grown old, and it made anger boil hot in his stomach. But on days like this Kirishima was always there to catch him. To fix his pride and hold his shaking hands. Kirishima gently washed Bakugo's knuckles, a tuneless hum coming from the back of his throat.

"I can do this myself." Katsuki grumbled as he watched his husband move slow with stiff joints and eyes full of memories and love.

"I like to help." Kirishima whispered back, steady fingers wrapping a bandaid around the cleaned knuckle.

Warm lips pressed ever so tenderly to the wound, candy and ruby red eyes clashing for the millionth time in their lives but it still made their hearts flutter.

"I love your hands, they always fit so well in mine." Kirishima stated, another warm kiss placed on the palm this time.

"And I love when you run them through my hair in the mornings." Another kiss but on his wrist.

"And I hope to hold them again in our next life."

It continued on like this, carefully spoken words and gentle kisses in their little bathroom. The first aid kit still scattered across the floor and Kirishima's legs aching where he kneeled beside it.

"Stop it you sap." Bakugo finally grumbled, squeezing their hands together.

"I love you Katsuki. All of you, even old like you are."

"I'm not old you asshole." Bakugo snapped, and Kirishima's laughter filled the small space with warmth, another wet kiss to the back of their interlocked fingers.

"I love you too." Bakugo finally whispered.

Maybe growing old with Eijirou was the best decision he'd ever made. The sturdy hero was still there to catch him when he slipped and offer him warmth when his mind felt so cold. Shaking hands grasped warmly in much bigger ones, a familiar hold.

. . .

I hope you like it!! <3

#krbk fic #bnha fandom #bnha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #bakushima #mha au #mha #my hero academia #bnha

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vostara · 4 years

Text

you’re the hallelujah on my throne

pairing: ares x original female character

blurb: “He can wait.”

word count: 1.5k+

title inspiration: in my blood - the veronicas

one-shot ficlet taking place after hypnophobia. this work was written before i finished writing the series, so i omitted any details that would reveal what exactly is happening (outside of the relationship between ares and beatrix).

this work is cross-posted on AO3.

series masterlist

She awakens with the sensation of fingertips gliding along the bare skin of pale arms. And she smiles, embracing the comfort, etching the touch into her memory. Clinging to the last threads of unconscious dozing, she barely emits a longing whine when the the contact of flesh is broken. Beatrix buries her face into the ruby satin of the pillowcase. When she inhales, she breathes in the faint scent of leather, the lingering traces of her lover’s cologne.

A body inches closer, to press their chest against her naked back. They wrap an arm around her waist and nuzzle their nose against the back of her neck.

Further removing herself from the state of slumber, her brain turns on the gears, starts the process of comprehending her surroundings. She begins to register the sound of raindrops, splattering against the glass of their secluded bedroom. Exposed skin is chilled from a breeze that slips between the space provided by windows left slightly ajar. And the body behind her, the woman behind her, is stained with the scent of the jasmine perfume that Beatrix had worn the night before.

Full lips are pressed against her skin. They brush along her neck, before migrating down to her shoulder blade. Beatrix moans when she feels teeth sink into her, scratching playful markings on top of her lotus tattoo.

“Ares,” she whispers, a pleading noise escaping her lips.

The woman smiles into her skin. And then she pulls her lips away, pulls her body away.

And Beatrix panics.

She turns her body on the bed and latches onto Ares, pulling her flush against her body. She needs to feel her, to know that she’s there, that Ares is real, and that the heartbeat that she feels isn’t a fantasy that bleed from her slumber and into her reality.

Ares places a comforting hand against the woman’s back, rubbing a thumb against her. With her free hand, she brushes strands of long hair away from Beatrix’s face. She raises her head to press a gentle kiss on the woman’s forehead.

Beatrix relaxes.

She opens her eyes, blinking away the blurriness that lingers after a deep slumber. Through the window, she sees a single ray of sunlight, breaking through the expanse of gray clouds. The light illuminates the lavender flowers planted outside, on the windowsill. Then she shifts her eyes to where the warmth radiates. And she focuses on the familiar tattoos inked onto a thin arm and the heartbeat embedded into the side of a neck.

Beatrix lays the side of her face against the flat space of her lover’s shoulder. “You’re here,” she mumbles.

Ares trails her fingers against the woman’s back, tracing the outlines of a freshly healed tattoo. Though her lips are graced with a soft smile, her eyes are tinged with concern.

The couple lay together, for awhile longer, their limbs intertwined. Ares runs her fingers through the woman’s hair, untangling knots that had formed in the midst of passion exchanged. Beatrix breathes in the scent of her lover’s skin, further grounding herself into this reality.

When Ares is certain that Beatrix has calmed down, she pulls her arms away. She moves them to grip the woman’s hips, urging Beatrix to move her body.

Without hesitation, Beatrix obliges. She climbs on top of Ares and straddles her hips between her legs. Eager, she presses herself against the woman beneath her and leans down to kiss her.

But Ares stops her.

Planting a hand firmly against her chest, she pushes Beatrix to sit upright. She takes a moment to examine the woman, observing her barely open eyes, her swollen lips, and the fading lipstick smeared against her skin.

She lifts her hands, bringing them to the space between the women. Are you okay? She signs.

Beatrix blinks and then shifts her gaze to look away from Ares. She opens her mouth to speak, but pauses. “For a moment,” she finally says, “I thought you were going to disappear.”

Ares presses a hand against her cheek, turning her head back towards her.

I’m right here, she says. I’m not leaving you.

Beatrix smiles. She leans down and meets Ares in series of sweet, gentle kisses.

The buzz of a phone interrupts them.

Beatrix pulls away, sighing. She reaches for the black cellphone resting on the bedside table and frowns. A notification flashes across the screen, a message from Santino D’Antonio.

Ares slips the phone out of the woman’s fingers, turning it so she can see the screen.

“Ignore him,” Beatrix says.

Ares smiles, but unlocks the phone. She reads the message, before dropping the phone onto the bed.

He needs to see you.

“He can wait,” Beatrix responds.

Ares lifts an eyebrow. He says that it is important.

Beatrix rolls her. “He’s a big boy,” she rests her chest against Ares, “he should learn some patience.”

Ares quirks her mouth in amusement, before pulling Beatrix into another kiss. She flips them over, trapping the woman between her and the mattress.

Beatrix presses her thighs against her hips, wanting to feel all of her lover.

Ares nibbles against the bottom of Beatrix’s lips, urging her to whisper a soft moan in response. Seizing the opportunity, Ares slips her tongue between the parted lips, deepening the lust blooming between the women.

Beatrix digs her nails into the woman’s back, marking the skin with fresh scratches.

Ares pulls her lips away from Beatrix, choosing to pepper kisses along the woman’s jawline. She then presses her lip onto the woman’s neck, sinking her teeth into the delicate skin. A few moments later, she continues to trail her lips down the woman’s body. She travels across her collarbones, the space between her breasts, and along the scars etched onto her stomach.

Beatrix tangles her fingers into the woman’s short hair, impatient and desperate for Ares. Unintelligible pleas escaping from her lips.

Ares dips her head between the spread legs and—

The phone rings, screaming its godawful noise into the room.

Ares freezes, before pulling her face away from Beatrix. She reaches for the cellphone and accepts the call. The woman holds the phone up to her ear for a moment, and then passes it to the other woman.

“What do you want?” Beatrix hisses.

“Ahh,” the man responds, “a good morning to you, too.”

“Santino, get on with it.” A warning.

“The Germans have a proposal.” The man sighs. “I need you to show up for a meeting.”

Movement from the corner of her eye draws her attention. She watches as Ares untangles her limbs from the bedsheets and leaves the comfort of the fabric. She picks up a burgundy shirt from the floor, the same one Beatrix had torn off of her last night, and slips her arms inside of the sleeves. A moment later, she exits the bedroom.

“Answer me,” Santino’s voice pulls her attention back to the call.

“Which Germans are you talking about?” She questions. “Did they mention anything about what they wanted?”

“Matthias,” the Camorra man pauses, “is requesting your presence.”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

Santino chuckles. “That might break his heart. He seems to be quite enchanted by you.”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Did he mention anything else?”

“Lilith.”

Beatrix frowns. “But Lilith is—”

The man interrupts her, “Actions can lead to unexpected conflicts.” A pause. “He says that he can make it, ‘go away.’”

Silence follows, as she processes the information.

“Beatrix?”

“When does he want to meet?”

“This evening, for a late dinner.”

“I will be there,” the woman responds. She ends the call and tosses the phone back onto the bedside table.

Ares walks back into the bedroom, dressed in a clean black buttoned shirt and a pair of navy blue tapered slacks. She pauses in her steps, her eyes focused on Beatrix.

You’re upset.

Beatrix nods her head in response.

What did he say?

“That Matthias has a proposal for me.” Wrapping herself in the bedsheet, Beatrix stands up from the bed and approaches Ares. “It has something to do with Lilith.”

Ares furrows her brows. She is gone.

“It would appear that my actions resulted in,” Beatrix takes a moment to consider her words, “a rippling effect of consequences.”

Ares frowns and her eyes drift down to stare at the dark wooden floors.

“I should have known better,” Beatrix says. “Lilith’s poison contaminates all of Germany. There is no freedom from my people.”

Ares takes a step towards her, determination painted in her features. She reaches for Beatrix’s hand and pulls it towards her, placing it on her chest. Her thumb traces against the edges of an emerald, cut in a pear shape and attached to a simple gold band.

Ares removes her hold on the hand, allowing her to shape her next words. I vowed to protect you. And I intend to keep that promise.

Beatrix blinks, surprised, but comforted. “Ares—”

I will not allow harm to befall you. You do not need to ask me to fight with you, to fight for you. I will do so willingly, for as long as you wish that of me.

Beatrix lifts her hand, placing it against the side of Ares’ neck. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Ares smiles. I love you.

The woman steps closer to her lover, pulling her into her arms. I love you, too,” she says.

a/n: thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please considering reblogging it! i’m a small author, so any reblog really does help me out.

chapter four of the main series is scheduled to be released next weekend, hopefully it doesn’t get delayed any further! i wanted to release something to tie you over while you continue to wait.

follow my twitter! @ VostaraFics

#ares john wick #john wick fic #ares fic #ares x reader #ares x original character #ares x original female character #ruby rose #ruby rose fic #ruby rose x reader #ruby rose x original character #ruby rose x original female character #film: john wick #john wick #v.writing #fic: you're the hallelujah on my throne #fic: hypnophobia #vostara #series: she drowns in liquid gold

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long-liv-prairies · 7 years

Note

DWC Prompt Cullen X Naomi AU with Cullen as a Beast/Shapeshifter smutty and/or fluffy ;D

Ok, so I got this prompt, and then my mind came up with this. Sort of a modern AU combined with the beast/shapeshifter AU using my MGIT AU characters (so, an AU in an AU in an AU…). This is only one installment, and I am currently imagining two more to finish the story, inspired by Beauty and the Beast. I think this could count as fluffy? (sorry, no smut yet).

Also, I’m trying a new POV, so there may be some slips here and there.

He is stalking a deer, approaching on silent paws, when hesmells her.

Her scent is blowing on the early spring breeze, nearlymasked by the musk of the deer, but coming through to his sensitive nose with astrong, human spice of its own.

He stands from his crouch, the quick motion exposing himselfto the deer, which bolts with a cough and a flick of its tail. But he doesn’tcare.

She’s back.

He runs on silent paws through the forest, weaving through fiftyyear old juniper and hundred year old ponderosa, branches of the underbrushsliding harmlessly across his fur. He stops atop an outcropping of rocks abovethe trail, one of many in the park, and crouches again. He can’t let her seehim, but this vantage will give him an unobstructed view of her. His body isentirely still, though he can’t keep his tail from twitching with excitement.

He hears her before he sees her, feet scuffling along thedirt path that winds through the forest, her boots kicking rocks nearly everyother step. He can her hear breathing, a little labored, and a mumbled commentshe makes to herself. There is a short verse of a song, something from Disney,he remembers. There is only one set of footsteps. She is alone.

He finally sees her, and it takes all of his self-controlnot to jump down on the path in front of her. It would only scare her,guarantee she never return.

They never returned. Aside from those who worked in thepark, he rarely saw the same person twice.

He had certainly never expected to see her again.

She has long brown hair woven back in a braid, lightlytanned skin, even now after the length of winter. She must have traveled south,he thinks, for those freckles to be so visible. She is tall, not exactly thin,but he can tell her body is used to moving. To walking. She is dressed warmly,appropriate for the weather, a daypack on her back. He thinks her eyes might beblue.

Beautiful, hethinks, as she walks closer with long, easy strides. Definitely used towalking, used to a life spent outdoors on trails like these. He breathesdeeply, that scent of hers, warm, earthy, uncovered by product or perfume,sends a shiver through his body.

Were this another time, were they at a bar, he might findthe courage to buy her a drink.

A burst of song cascades from the trees, a warbling twitterthat falls from high to low. The woman stops, her head cocked a little to theside. A smile spreads across her face, and he thinks he might cry from thebeauty of it. If he could cry.

She pulls a book from the small bag slung over her shoulder,the cover bordered with yellow, graced with a drawing of a bald eagle, andflips to a page. She makes a note before putting it away, lifting thebinoculars hanging from her neck when the bird sings again.

After a moment of watching she moves on, down the trail,humming another tune to herself. He follows alongside, through the forest,until she passes out into the grassland. He climbs then, into an ancient pine,and watches her brunette head moving through the open land, until she disappearsbehind a hill. It breaks his heart, a little, to see her go. But he cannotfollow.

He was lucky to have seen her two days in a row. When sheappears on the third, he thinks the Maker might have some mercy after all.

When she comes down the path on the fourth, he wonders ifmaybe the Maker has not abandoned him.

She walks the paths every morning, always with herbinoculars, with her books. Her hair is always in a braid, and she only wearstwo pairs of pants. One day, she wears glasses.

He starts to sit on his spot along the trail, waiting forher. He finds out she has been employed by the park on the fifth day, when shereceives a call from her father. He realizes he will see her often, every dayeven. It makes the days easier, brighter, knowing she will be part of them,even if she doesn’t realize he is part of hers.

And then, on the seventh day, it rains. She does not comedown the trail in the morning.

He waits for hours, growing more and more restless. Then hepaces, his stomach starting to rumble. He has not hunted in days, not since hemet her. She is too distracting. He can’t hunt when his thoughts are filledwith the her image.

He shouldn’t be so obsessed, he knows. Nothing will come ofhis infatuation. He can look all he wants on the women that pass through theforest, but none can ever see him. Not even this woman.

He doesn’t even know her name.

Darkness comes and he accepts that she is not coming. Heartheavy, he moves deeper into the forest, nose and ears pricked for signs of prey.

Perhaps the Maker was not so merciful after all.

She hated starting new things. New jobs, moving to newplaces… it was stressful, left her unbalanced. And now, she has to do both.

Her apartment is small, just a couple of dusty rooms in Mrs.Schmidt’s attic. The old widow has done the best she can, but the house is old,and she feels cramped.

At least her job lets her be outside. The property is large,one of the few state parks in the state, and she had been lucky to get a job insuch a pristine area. Especially in Nebraska. Of course, not many were willingto move to such a remote location. Especiallyin Nebraska.

She walks the trails of the park every day once she moves tothe small town, familiarizing herself with the property. She doesn’t officiallystart for a week, but it couldn’t hurt to get a head start on inventorying thespecies present in the area.

She walks the same path every day, and though it is beautiful,she cannot shake the feeling that she is not alone.

She is just nervous to be in a new place, she rationalizes. Onceher job starts in a week, things will start to settle in.

On Sunday it rains and she skips her trip to the reserve.She goes to church, then takes the afternoon to relax and read a book.

Monday is clear, chilly, as is expected in early spring. Sheheads down the trail, ears peeled for birdsong.

She’s decided to focus on the birds first. It’s spring andthey are migrating, the best time to find them. And the plants aren’t growingenough yet.

She is halfway through her walk when she hears it. A warblerthat shouldn’t occur this far west. Or at least, she thinks it’s the warbler.She needs another chance to hear the song, or better yet, a look at the birditself. She heads into the woods, following the faint song.

She stops at the steep bank of a stream, the bird singing inone of the trees overhead. She scans the bare branches for the bird, and bringsher binoculars to her eyes when she thinks she spots it.

She is contemplating the bird’s dusty yellow breast featherswhen the bank gives way.

She falls, tumbling into the nearly frozen water, and hearsa crack when she lands, her arm on fire. Her ankle aches. But it’s worse thanthe broken bones, because she is half buried beneath a pile of earth, herclothes soaking with the cold water from the stream. Everything is blurry, andthen her vision goes dark, the sound of rushing water in her ears.

She wakes, mind hazy, her body scraping along the ground.She moves forward with a jolt, a stone jabbing into her hip. Her shirt andfleece are choking at her neck, something tugging the fabric behind her neck,bunching the clothes at the front of her throat and making it difficult tobreathe. She tries to move her arms, reach out to lift herself up, but they arenumb. She hears thunder, and she is dragged through a puddle. It’s rainingagain.

She is tugged forward another step. She sees, though hervision is blurry, a tawny leg, and a paw.

She passes out again.

She is woken by a crack of thunder. She blinks and tries tomove, but she is too cold. Her arm and ankle still ache, and she feels a stabof pain in her side. She groans, confused.

It was foolish to goout alone. I should have told someone. Even Mrs. Schmidt. I’m not like mybrother. I don’t heal…

She fell and got hurt. She was stuck in a cold river. Shewas dying, likely hypothermic. A tear slipped out of her eye. This isn’t how itwas supposed to happen…

No, she remembers, someone had moved her. She was no longerin the stream.

A hand grips hers, strokes her cheek. She tries to shy away,startled at the development. But the hands are gentle, and the voice that accompaniesthem kind, if rough.

“I’ll help you,” the male voice murmurs. “Please, don’t beafraid…”

She isn’t. She trusts that voice, even after so few words,without seeing the face it belongs to. He pulled her from the river, the ownerof this voice. He is trying to help her. She can do nothing but trust.

His hands leave her, and she sees a spark in the darkness ashe tries to light a fire. Good, shethinks. I need to warm up…

But the sparks do not turn into flame. She hears the mangrowl in frustration, and knows he can’t do it. For some reason, he can’t startthe fire. She can still hear rain falling against the roof of whateverstructure they are in. The wood is too wet, she surmises. He cannot warm herup.

She isn’t shivering, and her breathing is slow. Another tearslips from her eye. She doesn’t want to die like this. And she knows she could,quickly.

The man growls again, louder, and she hears something strikethe wall. She hears him move closer, his body sliding along the floor. “Please,”he says again. “Don’t be afraid.”

But she is afraid. She is afraid of dying.

He starts to remove her clothing. She mumbles and tries topush him away. “I’m sorry,” the man says quietly, but he does not stop. “I needto warm you up.”

When she is in her underwear he lifts her, carries her to abed. A blanket is placed over her body, but she cannot move to wrap herself init.

She is tired. So, so tired. She just wants to fall asleep.

The bed shifts, and the man crawls under the blanket withher, the heat of his skin pressed against her own body. Her instinct is to pullaway. She doesn’t want a strange man in bed with her, especially when they arenearly naked. But the heat feels too good, and she knows if she doesn’t accepthis help, she will not make it through the night.

She does find it strange, when she eventually slips backinto sleep, that he is so hairy.

She wakes still sore, still aching. But she is warm.

And she is alone.

The room is filled with dim light. The wood floors arecovered in dust, though it is smudged where feet have walked. She frowns as shestudies the patterns. There are large, bare human prints. But among those arethe large pads of some animal. Feline, she decides, based on the shape and lackof claws. And based on their size, it can only be one thing.

Mountain lion.

She sits up, wincing when a pang of pain stabs through herside, and holds her arm against her body. She stares at those tracks, trying tomake sense of them. She can’t tell which came first. The room is old, and thesheets are just as dusty as the floor. Whatever building she is in could beabandoned. The lion may have wandered in before her rescuer brought her…

She hears an animal growl from the other room. Her heartrate rises, and adrenaline shoots through her veins. The lion hadn’t comebefore. It is here now.

She gingerly gets out of the bed, suppressing the cry thatthreatens to fall past her lips when her injured leg hits the floor. She won’tbe able to run. She won’t be able to get away.

She looks to the door leading out of the room. It is ajar.If she closes it, she will be safe from the lion. Eventually it will leave, andthen so can she.

She limps to the door, unable to resist peaking outside.

The animal is there, in the nearly empty and rundown room ofthe cabin she is in, tearing into the body of a deer. It’s the largest mountainlion she has ever seen, and the sight of it terrifies her.

She wonders where her rescuer is. She hopes he is safe, andthat he will be able to defend himself. Hopefully, the lion will run off whenthe man returns.

She pulls on the door to close it. But it is stuck.Unfortunately, it moves enough to send a loud creak echoing through the cabin.

The lion growls, pulls away from its meal, turning to lookat her with yellow eyes, blood staining its muzzle. A scar slashes across theright side of its face, from its mouth to its eye.

They stare at each other for a single second. Then it takesa step toward her.

She turns back to the door and tugs harder, uses all her strength,though it pains her side to do it. It doesn’t move.

She turns back toward the lion. She’ll have to fight if offthen. It often works with mountain lions.

But the lion is gone. Instead, standing where it had beenjust a moment before is a man. A very tall, very muscular man, with long, curlyblonde hair. His beard is long, stained with blood, and a scar slices throughthe right side of his face.

He’s also very naked.

For one moment, she doesn’t know what to think. And thenpieces of memory from the night before click into place.

Why she was dragged across the ground instead of carried.

Why she thought she saw a paw.

Why the man was so hairy in bed.

A mage. A shapeshifter.

She still has questions, but she is less afraid. Magic iscommon in their world. Her own sister is a mage. She herself has been changed bymagic. He isn’t really a lion. He can just take the shape of one.

“Don’t be frightened,” the man says, voice smoother than thenight before. He holds up a hand. “Please.”

“I’m not afraid,” she says, lowering her hand from the door.

But she is embarrassed. He’s naked, and she is nearly so.She looks away from him, starting to blush.

“Thank you for helping me,” she tells him, staring at theempty fireplace.

“Of course.”

He is terrified when she wakes while he is changed. He didn’twant her to find out like this. He wasn’t sure he had wanted her to find out atall.

But she is not afraid, not once he shows his human form. Shejust flushes red and looks away.

He finds clothes he has not worn in years, and a set forher. She is slow to change, and he knows he needs to see to her injuries, nowthat the cold has been taken care of. He digs out a first aid kit, allmedicines inside long expired. But the splints and fabric bandages can still beused.

“I’m Naomi, by the way,” she says as he settles on the floorin front of her. He looks up into her eyes. They are definitely blue. His heartflutters.

“I’m Cullen,” he tells her.

He wraps up her injuries as best he can. Her ankle is justsprained, if badly, and he suspects she cracked a rib in the fall. The arm isthe worst, however, and he knows she needs to be brought to a hospital. He’snot sure how that will happen. He can’t bring her.

“Where did you learn to do this?” she asks as he wraps herarm snuggly, drawing in sharp breaths as he jostles the broken limb. She waslucky the bone had not broken the skin.

Years ago. In anotherlife.

“I was in the army,” he tells her. “We were taught firstaid.”

“I take it we’re not in the park anymore. I don’t rememberseeing a cabin like this on the map.”

“No, we are not in the park.” It’s strange, he realizes,talking to another person. He has not talked with another in so long.

She glances around the cabin. “Do you live out here?” He canhear the doubt in her voice. It’s far too unclean to be lived in.

“Not… usually,” he tells her, finishing with the splint. Ithad been… months since the last time he had come back here. He usually wanders.

“I’m lucky you were around then,” she says quietly. “Thankyou, again, for saving me.”

He looks up to her face. She is smeared with dried mud, herhair tangled and falling from her braid. But her eyes are clear, bright blue.She is so, so beautiful.

And he nearly lost her. He had been lucky to find her thenight before.

She could be what saves him, what frees him from this lifehe has lived for the past ten years. He can almost see it, looking into hereyes. He could fall in love with this woman. He thinks he might have alreadystarted.

But she will not fall in love with him. How can she?

“It was my pleasure,” he tells her.

She watches Cullen as he puts away the first aid kit, wonderinghow he came to be in this rundown cabin, why he had been eating in his animalform, why he had dragged her through the forest instead of carrying her. She isgrateful he saved her life, but something about him is strange.

She’s never met a shapeshifter before. Her sister studiedthe Fade. Maybe he preferred to be a lion.

But most mages knew at least a little healing magic, yet hehad offered none.

“Do you have a car? Can you bring me into town?” she asks.

He looks at her, and the intensity of his gaze makes herheart race a little. They are gold, as if the color did not change between hishuman and animal forms. She rather likes it.

“I don’t have a car,” he says after a moment.

“We’ll walk then,” she says, though it will be much morepainful. “I’ll need to lean on you—“

“We can’t do that either.”

He doesn’t look at her, and he is frowning. It makes hernervous. Maybe his motives weren’t so pure after all.

“Why?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I… am only human in thiscabin, and in some of the surrounding land. Otherwise, I am a lion. I cannothelp you get back… Unless I drag you again.”

Her eyes open wide. She had not considered he had to be a mountain lion.

“Oh.”

Cullen gives her a few expired painkillers, to reduce herpain, and the swelling, but there is not much else they can do. Not until shecan walk.

He brings her bag, the books and papers inside ruined fromthe rain. But even though her cellphone was protected in a waterproof case,there is not enough service for her to call for help. And her parents won’tknow she is missing. She goes days without speaking to them.

“It won’t work,” he tells her. “Calling for help. There isno road leading here.”

The mystery of him grows. “How did this happen?” she askshim. “Did your spell go wrong when you were changing?”

Darkness passes over his eyes, and his shoulders tense. “Iam not a mage.”

He is angry, and she realizes, if he is not a mage, thatsomeone did this to him.

“Why—?“

“I do not wish to speak of it,” he snaps. Nearly snarls. Theoutburst startles her.

She drops it, though her curiosity only grows.

And she realizes, as he pulls his deer into another room,where he can change and eat in private, how lonely his life must be. Shewonders when the last time he spoke with another person was. It did not look asif anyone else had used the cabin in years. It makes her sad.

He returns some time later, a hunk of meat in his hand.

“I could try to make a fire again,” he says. “Cook this up…”

She wonders how long the deer has been dead. It doesn’tsmell, and it is cool outside, but she doesn’t really want to get sick.

She’s hungry, but she will live.

“That’s ok,” she tells him. “I’ll wait.”

“Right,” he says, tossing the meat back into the room.

She wonders when the last time it was he had cooked food.

“Once your sprain stops hurting,” he tells her as headministers another painkiller. “You will be able to walk out yourself.” Hechecks on the swelling of her arm. It could be worse. Her spill into the waterhad helped on that front.

“Is it bothering you?”

“It’s fine.”

She spends the night alone. Cullen gives her the bed, thenleaves the room. He had managed to light a fire, and she imagines him curled upin front of it.

Even with the painkillers, her arm is aching. She barelysleeps.

In the morning her ankle feels better, but not enough towalk. Cullen helps her to the latrine, and does what he can for her injuries. Otherthan that she barely sees him the entire day. She sits in the cabin andattempts to save her books and her notes. She takes a nap.

She wishes he would stay and talk.

It’s hard to sleep that night because she is so hungry. Thenext morning, she finally feels confident enough with her ankle to walk.

Cullen’s face falls a little when she tells him she is readyto leave. But he nods.

He follows her a few feet into the woods, and then stops. “Areyou certain you are fine? You are still limping.”

“I need to get my arm looked at. I can walk.”

“Then I… wish you the best of luck.”

She looks at his face, and thinks he is rather handsome.Even with the blood in his beard.

“Will you come back with me to my car? I don’t… want to walkalone.”

His lips twitch a little, and he nods. “Of course.”

Each step is harder, the closer they get to the edge of thepark. At least they move slowly, with her injury. It gives him more time withher.

Those last few days with her in the cabin had been the bestin years. Seeing her so close, with his human eyes. Touching her, even briefly,with his hands. And sharing that bed, even if it was just to save her life…

He wishes she could stay longer. But that was a selfish thought.She had a life beyond this forest. She might visit every day, but it was notwhere she lived.

He realizes he will need to leave. He does not think he willbe able to stay away from her, knowing she is so close.

It is miles back to the parking lot where she is parked.Several times she places a hand on his back for balance as they cross the rockyterrain. Even as a lion, he shivers at the touch.

Yes. He needs to leave this place behind.

They reach the parking lot after miles of walking. Two carsare parked. They pause in the cover of the trees. She looks down at him andsmiles.

“Thank you Cullen, for everything.”

It feels good to hear his name. Especially from her lips.

He lowers his head, an approximation of a nod.

She looks to her car, then back to him. “Goodbye Cullen.”

He nods again. She hesitates a moment, and extends her handtoward him. But she drops it, then limps toward her car with a final smile.

He climbs a tree to watch her car winding down the road.When it disappears, his heart feels heavy.

Goodbye Naomi.

#Cullen x Naomi #cullen rutherford #Naomi Westerkamp #filled prompts #dragon age #dragon age au #beast au #modern au #shapeshifter au

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jacewilliams1 · 4 years

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The famous quote that da Vinci never said

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”

This Leonardo da Vinci quote is everywhere — aviation books, magazines, websites, Instagram posts, coffee mugs, tee shirts, several science textbooks and some Smithsonian publications. It’s been repeated by the Washington Post newspaper, the Italian ambassador to the United States, and an executive director of The Leonardo museum. I saw it last year in big painted letters on the wall of a California flight school. It’s timeless emotion from a renaissance master of art and science. A flying quotation from maybe the most diversely talented genius ever to have lived, penned 400 years before the Wright Brothers flew. It’s evocatively magical and achingly relatable.

Yet Leonardo da Vinci never said it; and it’s nowhere close to 500 years old.

Yep, it’s fakey fake! Like, totally busted. Now, it’s still a great line. Maybe the best encapsulation of what pilots feel like when we’re stuck on the ground. As I write this during the coronavirus lockdown my eyes are turned skyward, longing to return. But how did this distinctive line come to be credited to the famous Italian polymath with a fascination for flight? And who actually did write it?

I started questioning the quotation’s authenticity over twenty years ago, while trying to nail down the details for a book I was editing. It was slow sledding. Several big aviation books had the line, but none of them cited a reference. None. I soon noticed it never has a date or even a year ascribed to it. This was back when university library catalogs were giant physical card files, Google didn’t exist, and you dialed into the internet on Netscape.

Since I don’t speak Italian, flipping through photos of Leonardo’s original notes didn’t get me anywhere. Reading English translations of his words didn’t uncover the phrase. Leonardo didn’t write books as such, but rather had observational and inspirational notebooks that he wrote in mirror-image cursive with shorthand codes and extensive sketches. There are in total about 13,000 of these pages, originally loose papers of different types and sizes.

Leonardo wrote about birds and flying, but not that famous quote.

Leonardo certainly was obsessed with birds and flying machines, drawing and writing a lot about them over his entire lifetime. He believed a bird flew into his crib as a baby. He swam underwater to study how fish fins worked compared to bird wings. His aerodynamic ideas foreshadow Newton, Galileo, and Bernoulli. He was the first to draw flow fields. Charles Elachi, director of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, says Leonardo was “the ultimate genius,” and that “as scientists and explorers we always looked to him as the model.”

One of his famous notebooks, the Codex on the Flight of Birds, is devoted entirely to flight. It was written at the same time (1505-1506) he was painting the Mona Lisa. It contains aerodynamic understandings not equalled for hundreds of years. Elachi believes this codex is “probably the most important document about flight” on Earth. In 2012, a scanned copy of it flew much further, landing on Mars attached to the Curiosity rover. While close inspection of the Codex on the Flight of Birds reveals it was written over old notes, and contains a grocery list as well as other personal notes, our famous line is not there.

Peter Jakab, a curator at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC, says Leonardo wrote 35,000 words and drew 500 stretches on flying. His last notebook, Manuscript E (circa 1515), has advanced studies of gliding flight and clearly shows how migrating birds use the wind for long range soaring. By then I think Leonardo had given up on mechanical human-powered flight, after a lifetime of never actually making it into the air in any machine. This disconnect from actually “tasting flight” is part of the magic of the quote, that the great master could voice our primal aerial passion before anybody could have experienced it. The general acceptance seems to be that the extraordinary intellect that envisioned so many mechanical possibilities, and could paint so many human emotions, conjured in his mind what flight would feel like, what lingering sweet taste it would leave in our psyche.

The search was frustrating. What if the quote was never in his notebooks? Maybe he wrote it in a letter to someone else? Or maybe was it a bad translation? Or an extrapolation? Or a misunderstanding? But surely not, as the line was quoted so definitively, so often. The only variations seem to be at the start. Sometimes it’s, “For once you have tasted…” other times it’s, “When once you have tasted…” The body of the quotation is remarkably consistent for something supposedly 500 years old, originally written in Italian or Leonardo’s poor Latin.

I found nothing. Neither did some nice folks I talked with at National Geographic magazine years ago, who had contacted one of the world’s leading Leonardo authorities in Italy as part of a long research project, and were told flat out that he did not write it. They were quite confident it was folklore fiction, and privately they sounded a little smug that a Smithsonian publication had recently printed it. I believed them, but how do you prove a negative? And who originally did pen the line?

The question quietly bugged me for years. The 2007 book Leonardo on Flight by Domenico Laurenza never mentions the line. A whole chapter of the 2008 book Leonardo’s Legacy by science writer Stefan Klein is devoted to da Vinci’s dream of mechanical flight, yet it also never mentions the line. Rather, the book concludes “after thirty years of tireless work, Leonardo’s dream of flying had reverted to what it was in the first days of his research—a flight of the imagination.” And the amazing 2017 biography Leonardo da Vinci by Walter Isaacson, drawing on the latest research, didn’t include it anywhere in its over 600 pages. So every time I saw the quote on a tee shirt or Twitter it was a poke to a bit of my brain that knew something wasn’t right, that something was unfinished.

Well, finally the mystery has been solved, thanks to several patient detectives connected via the internet, using the vast search tools of Google Books and other electronic storehouses. People reached out to book authors and asked where ideas and narrative came from, while others sat through dreadful old copies of films. It all came together in the nerdy discussion page of the Wikiquote entry for Leonardo de Vinci, and now we can reveal the author was… drum roll please…

John Hermes Secondari. An American TV writer. In 1965.

John Secondari discussing rockets with Wernher von Braun.

It seemed all a bit underwhelming. A TV writer? But a little more research finds a pretty cool cat. He commanded a tank company in combat during World War II. He wrote romantic novels. An uncredited Frank Sinatra sang “his” song that won an Oscar. The New York Times called Secondari “a dominant figure in the field of the television documentary” in their February 1975 obituary. He had won three Peabody Awards and more than 20 Emmys during a career making quality documentaries. And while John was mostly found behind the camera, there’s pictures of him from a 1958 Walt Disney Television show—smoking a cigarette and discussing rocketry with Wernher von Braun. And he had deep ties to Italy.

Born in Rome in 1919, at five years old Secondari sailed with his mother to Ellis Island for a life in the United States. After getting a masters degree in journalism from Columbia University, he worked as a correspondent for The United Press and CBS News. In 1941 he joined the Army and saw combat in Europe. After the war he rejoined CBS and was head of their Rome bureau. John also wrote several novels. The first one published drew on his knowledge and love of Rome with a title referencing the famous Trevi fountain—Coins in the Fountain. The book was turned into the 1954 movie Three Coins in the Fountain. It won two Oscars: best cinematography and best song. The eponymous song was sung by Frank Sinatra.

At the start of the 1960s Secondari organized ABC-TV’s first documentary unit and went on to produce over 80 documentaries, covering serious subjects with award-winning substance. The Museum of Broadcast Communications’ Encyclopedia of Television (2nd edition, 2013) says Secondari “forged a coherent house style that featured a heavy emphasis on visualization and dramatic voiceover narration.” One of his projects was a series called The Saga of Western Man, highlighting key historical events that drove civilization forward. It was nominated for five Primetime Emmy awards. The New York Times said that to make the past come alive Secondari used “sound effects and animated the screen by treating the camera lens as if it were the eye of an actual witness to the event—scanning , zooming or resting on shadows, furniture, silhouettes, ships and other objects. As much as possible he restricted the acting to off-screen voices, using historically authentic dialogue.”

One of the episodes of The Saga of Western Man was “I, Leonardo Da Vinci.” The credits state it was written, produced and narrated by John H. Secondari, with “the voice of Leonardo da Vinci” played by Fredric March. Its copyright date is 1965 and it was released in 1966 by American Broadcasting. At 16 minutes and 21 seconds into the second reel, after the off-screen Leonardo narration urges people to build his flying machines, claiming after any crash “the hurts will be slight,” over gentle visuals of a wheat field panning up into a clear blue sky, the voice says:

And once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you would return.

That’s it. The first recorded version of what became the quote. There is nothing similar in any of the millions of pre-1965 documents digitized by Google or other archivers. It was written by John H. Secondari, channeling the real ideas and passions of Leonardo as part of a TV documentary. This was a serious project, with Professor Carlo Pedretti of the University of California as the consultant historian, but it did present conjectural concentrations of Leonardo’s ideas. Condensing 13,000 pages of notes into a one hour show is hard. Clearly it’s a great line, compelling, ethereal—even if it’s closer in time to Leonardo DiCaprio than Leonardo da Vinci.

As an additional fact check, I talked with Marissa De Simone Day, Director of Exhibits and Learning at The Leonardo Museum of Creativity and Innovation in Salt Lake City, Utah. She was part of the creation of their outstanding Flight exhibit. If anyone should know about the line, it’s her. She stated, “as far as we know, the quote originated in the script of an educational film by John Secondari which is titled I, Leonardo da Vinci. The script is inspired by Leonardo’s notes in his codexes and narrated as though by Leonardo.”

This spoken line is not exactly as we’ve seen it repeated time after time over the last few decades. It lacks the “forever” and the ending is missing the “always long.” Those parts came to be added in pieces later. The first time the line appeared in print was ten years later, in the May 1975 edition of Analog Science Fiction and Fact magazine. It was quoted as a Leonardo epigraph in The Storms of Windhaven, a science fiction story by George R. R. Martin (yes, that’s Mr. Game of Thrones) and Lisa Tuttle:

For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward; for there you have been, and there you long to return.

Now we have the “long to return.” But where did they get the line? A fantastical lost da Vinci codex discovered in George R. R. Martin’s attic? A personal letter from Leonardo delivered through a vortex time portal? Sadly not. Seems the communication was more down to Earth. According to Lisa Tuttle it was the editor of Analog, Ben Bova, who suggested it. An email to Ben revealed that he heard it in a documentary about Leonardo.

It was perfect for the start of a story of human space voyagers who crash-landed on a planet and constructed mechanically simple gliding machines from their wrecked spaceship. The presented-as-historical-fact quotation was read and spread by late seventies hang glider pilots and sky divers. Five years later, a newspaper story in the The Herald Statesman had the compelling headline Hang Glider Died “With His Eyes Turned Skyward.” By the 1980s the power of the line had caught the imagination of the wider aviation world. And then it started being repeated in books and magazines.

Which is when I first saw it. I joined the echoing chorus by adding it to my lists of aviation quotes. Now it’s almost everywhere. It’s easy to understand why. The line perfectly describes a human emotion about our favorite obsession. It sounds just like what we think Leonardo sounded like. And fact checking the line used to be nearly impossible. But now we have better tools. It might take a while for the quote’s attribution to be changed, considering how common it’s become. I heard it as part of a theme park ride. It even made it to page 135 of the 2008 National Geographic book Leonardo’s Universe: The Renaissance World of Leonardo Da Vinci. Emails to the authors were unanswered.

It’s my speculation that the enigmatic Mona Lisa smile is Leonardo’s reaction to his most famous flying quote turning out to have been penned by a ghostwriter centuries after his death. The great man did enjoy funny prophecy-riddles. His quote that “winged creatures will support people with their feathers” actually refers not to flying machines, but rather “the feathers used to stuff mattresses.” His line “feathers shall raise men even as they do birds, towards heaven” is finished by “that is by letters written with their quills.”

While we have to let his most repeated quote go, thankfully there are many well researched, 100% authentic quotations that match his amazing aerodynamic sketches. Like this one from the Codex Atlanticus:

A bird is an instrument working according to mathematical law, and it is in the capacity of man to reproduce such an instrument. A man with wings large enough and duly attached might learn to overcome the resistance of the air and raise himself upon it.

The post The famous quote that da Vinci never said appeared first on Air Facts Journal.

from Engineering Blog https://airfactsjournal.com/2020/08/the-famous-quote-that-da-vinci-never-said/

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newstfionline · 5 years

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Ahead of visit by Trump to Argentina, G-20 hosts strain to please

By Anthony Faiola and Michael Birnbaum, Washington Post, November 29, 2018

BUENOS AIRES--President Trump’s foreign travels have sometimes led to volcanic clashes with fellow leaders, but when Air Force One touched down in Argentina on Thursday for a Group of 20 summit, Trump’s hosts had already been straining to please him.

At a conclave typically devoted to issues of trade and the environment, the Argentines have been trying to minimize topics during the summit that could trigger Trump’s Twitter finger--including protectionism, the Paris climate agreement and migration. In the declaration issued at the end of the meeting--in which leaders sum up their work and set priorities for their underlings--Argentina has been working hard to minimize U.S. embarrassment.

Trump’s soft landing may be unsurprising in a nation led by President Mauricio Macri, a former golfing partner of Trump’s. For leaders around the world, the question will be whether Argentina’s gentle approach can be more successful than that of Germany, whose G-20 summit last year in Hamburg was tough and confrontational--and included unusual language in the final declaration that made clear that Trump was isolated 19 to one on climate issues.

Just this month, Trump clashed with French President Emmanuel Macron during a World War I-themed trip to Paris, punching out sulfurous tweets about France from Air Force One and holding a rancorous phone call with British Prime Minister Theresa May.

Argentina, by contrast, has backed Trump’s tough line on Venezuela. The Trump administration has supported a $56.3 billion International Monetary Fund rescue plan for Argentina--a position the Argentines are eager not to jeopardize. In the negotiations, Argentine officials say they have worked to address U.S. priorities. The White House has resisted in a final draft the use of terms considered explosive in the American culture wars--including “protectionism” and “Paris accord.” In addition, the Americans have tried to avoid discussing migrants and refugees.

“We’re happy to accommodate concerns as we can, and to work toward reasonable wording for consensus,” said Pedro Raúl Villagra Delgado, a senior Argentine diplomat and lead negotiator for the G-20 summit. “This can’t be a fight against the United States or any other country.”

That is not to say that controversy can be avoided altogether. Trump may cross paths at the summit with Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman for the first time since Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi was killed inside the Saudi Consulate in Istanbul on Oct. 2. Trump has refused to condemn Mohammed, dismissing a CIA assessment that the crown prince ordered the killing of Khashoggi, a Washington Post contributing columnist. The embrace of the crown prince puts Trump at odds with several other G-20 nations that have distanced themselves from him, including Canada and Germany. Also ratcheting up the pressure: A prosecutor in Argentina is considering war crimes charges against Mohammed linked to Khashoggi’s death and to the Saudi military intervention in Yemen.

Yet most European leaders are bracing for a different kind of fight, one over issues including the U.S. trade war with China, which Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping will address in a one-on-one meeting, and Trump’s affinity for Russian President Vladimir Putin despite the brewing naval crisis between Russia and Ukraine in the Sea of Azov.

“We must not allow Europe to be smashed between the new poles of power,” German Foreign Minister Heiko Maas said this week in speech in Berlin. “‘Europe united’ describes the path we have taken, a way forward.”

European leaders--many of whom answer to voters who reward confrontation with Trump--acknowledge Argentina’s difficult position, and some say they appreciate the effort to calm tensions while preserving tough stances on issues that many rich nations value.

On climate, “it will be language that will convey the same messages” as in Germany last year, said a senior European Union diplomat involved in the negotiations, “but there will be much less specific words.” The diplomat spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss the sensitive closed-door talks.

“Everyone is fully aware that there is a considerable element of unpredictability in this summit, irrespective of all the preparation work that went into this,” the diplomat said.

#Argentina #Trump in Argentina #Group of 20 summit #G-20 meeting

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daddyslittlejuliet · 7 years

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7 Ways to Help Dolphins

Photo by J. D. Ebberly via Flickr

Dolphins are truly remarkable animals. Early cultures so highly regarded dolphins that they featured them in their mythology and artwork. The ancient Greeks, for instance, often depicted Poseidon and Aphrodite accompanied by dolphins, and Indigenous peoples in Brazil have long venerated the Amazon river dolphin as sacred, considering it bad luck to kill or eat one.

Scientists believe dolphins are the second most intelligent beings on Earth (after humans) and have argued that they should be treated as nonhuman persons.

In some ways, we’ve loved these animals to death. We want to be close to them – so close that we’ve learned how to capture dolphins through violent hunts in places like Taiji, keep them in tiny tanks, breed them, and “train” them to perform tricks for our amusement. The gentle curve of their mouths give them the appearance of always smiling, even as they are suffering at human hands.

Captivity, recreational boating, commercial fishing (as “bycatch”), and habitat loss through coastal development are just a few of the threats dolphins face. In honor of National Dolphin Day, here are seven things we can do to help them:

1. Protect the oceans. Dolphins live there, after all. We can start by not consuming marine life and minimizing our individual use of plastic, which often ends up in the ocean.

2. Never patronize businesses that keep dolphins (or other animals) in captivity – this includes places that let you “swim with dolphins.”

3. Speak out against the Taiji dolphin hunts. The notorious annual dolphin hunts take place near Taiji, Japan, from about September 1 until at least March. Every year, fishermen locate pods of migrating dolphins out at sea and herd them into Hatagiri Bay with boats, nets, and long metal rods that crew members dip below the surface and pound to create an acoustical wall that disorients the dolphins’ sonar. The fishermen leave the animals overnight in a narrow cove and return at dawn armed with the knives and spears that will gradually turn the blue tide scarlet. While many dolphins are killed for meat, others are sold to zoos and marine parks worldwide, making the drives an incredibly lucrative business.

Contact authorities in Taiji, as well as the Japanese Embassy, US Embassy to Japan, US and Japanese Ambassadors to the UN, and the US Senate members of the Committee on Foreign Relations. Call or send them a polite message expressing your feelings about the dolphin hunts and ask them to do everything in their power to help put an end to the misery.

Prime Minister of Japan Prime Minister Shinzo Abe Cabinet Office, Government of Japan 1-6-1 Nagata-cho Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo. 100-8914 JAPAN +81-3-5253-2111

Website: http://ift.tt/i0vSv6 Online comment form #1: http://ift.tt/1F1nHue Online comment form #2: http://ift.tt/1U9L7cU

Japanese Embassies Worldwide: Websites of Japanese Embassies, Consulates and Permanent Missions

List of Embassies and Consulates-General in Japan: List of Embassies and Consulates-General in Japan

United States UN Representative: Samantha Power – US Ambassador to the UN Samantha Power’s Twitter United States Mission to the United Nations Contact Form

US Senate Committee on Foreign Relations: US Senate Committee on Foreign Relations

International Whaling Commission (IWC) The Red House, 135 Station Road, Impington, Cambridge, Cambridgeshire CB24 9NP, UK. Tel: +44 (0) 1223 233 971 Fax: +44 (0) 1223 232 87 Email: [email protected]

United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) / Convention on Migratory Species (CMP) UNEP/CMS Secretariat Platz der Vereinten Nationen 1 53113 Bonn, Germany Tel: (+49 228) 815 2401 Fax: (+49 228) 815 2449 Email: [email protected]

(The position of US Ambassador to Japan is currently vacant; I’ll update this post once it is filled.)

4. Join volunteers in Taiji. You can also volunteer with Sea Shepherd or The Dolphin Project on site in Taiji. Those who are interested in volunteering as a Sea Shepherd Cove Guardian should email [email protected]. (Please note that volunteer applicants must be able to commit to participating in the campaign for a minimum of one week.) To sign up to join Ric O’Barry and his Dolphin Project team as a Project Cove Monitor, please click here.

5. Contact travel companies and travel agents. It was great news when Thomas Cook and TripAdvisor recently stopped offering or promoting travel to attractions that exploit dolphins and other animals. But plenty of travel companies and travel agents still feature attractions and hotels that keep cetaceans in captivity. When you see a company promoting dolphin captivity, ask them to reconsider. If they don’t respond, send an email to [email protected].

6. Support groups working on behalf of dolphins. Such groups include The Dolphin Project, Sea Shepherd, and Blue Voice.

7. Know how to respond if you find a live dolphin stranded on the beach. Click here.

Oh, and if you’re looking for a truly dolphin-safe can of tuna, try this one – or make a great-tasting tuna-like salad using chickpeas!

Please share this post with family and friends and ask them to get involved.

Follow @markhawthorne

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