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honey-minded-hivemind · 8 months

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Imagine...

An 🪶Avian AU

Yes! An Avian AU! Where instead of being mutants, the X-Men, Brotherhood, and their friends and foes (who are mutants) are part bird!

Now, we have different bird wings, bird talents, and bird talons for each different type of mutant. For the feral/beastly mutants, we have larger birds of prey. For the psychics, telepaths, and generally smart/ingenious/creative mutants, we have the likes of parrots, parakeets, and budgies. For faster/coordinated mutants, we have things like the falcon birds of prey, or the likes of hummingbirds. Witch/sorcerer-like mutants are more akin to the likes of ospreys and large waterbirds, such as cranes, storks, and herons. Mutants with abilities like fire, energy, sparklers, ice, and the like fall into the songbird/woodland bird categories, ranging from wrens to crows to bluejays to cardinals. There are so many options, and there are just as many for the reader.

In the 🪶Avian AU, they tend to call their groups/family "flock". Younger avians are referred to as "hatchlings", "fledglings", "nestlings", and "chicks". Different species may use their respective bird species to refer to others, such as calling a young eagle avian "eaglet" or a young swan avian a "cygnet". Adults are very protective of their young, and will die trying to protect their flock from danger. Their territory is fiercely guarded and secured, unwanted intruders being scared off, or hostile ones killed. Nests are built in large rooms that are deemed secure, and are filled with whatever is comfortable/comforting, like blankets, sweaters, plushies, and feathers, and are usually large enough for the entire group. Adults can end up in a more primal mindset when too stressed or threatened, where they keep any younger members in the nest and attack any deemed threats. The same can happen with younger avians, who will go into a state of mind of where they seek comfort and hide from deemed threats. When in these states, both adults and younger members become extremely broody and cuddly towards whomever they deem safe/in need of help.

Different avians eat different things. Some eat fruit, some eat meat, some eat seeds and nuts, others eat fish and crabs. Some have been known to eat carrion, or even humans, if nothing else is available... Avians can mix up their diet, but tend to stick with what they know. Many are known to preen feathers, similar to actual birds, and can do it for each other if wanted or needed. Sharpening of talons can also take place for those who have them. Most avians' eyesight is better than humans, but some have been known to have poor eyesight or none at all.

Avians have been hunted down in the past for their feathers, and for them supposedly bringing luck to whomever can catch one. It was also known that if you caught one, they would likely kill you at the first chance. Avians can hold a grudge, and are not above doing what it takes for their survival, or their species' survival. It was considered much safer by humans to collect avian feathers rather than actual avians. Different feathers meant different things, and many rich and influential humans would have cloaks or fans made out of the collected feathers. Avians can speak the human languages, but also have their own language, comprised of chirps, clicks, caws, hoots, screeches, tweets, and warbles, a language that only a few humans have ever been able to translate.

Flying is important to avians. That is the highest freedom they have, and to take away their wings is considered a mortal sin, an act punishable by death. There are tales in different regions of foolish humans who injured young avians, hoping to take home a trophy, only to be met by their parent or flock, who would then tear them apart. Other tales speak of trying to take one for a romantic partner... those end just as worse, with endings ranging from the avian's original romantic partner slaying the human, their flock destroying the human village, or the captured avian themself ripping through their captor in a feat of rage. Avian folklore is filled with its own mythological figures, like the Cunning Owl, Wise Crow, Loving Dove, and Immortal Phoenix. They also take great pride in their abilities, whether it be fast flight, heightened senses, sharp talons, clever wit, or impeccable beauty.

With a bby, the platonic yans would all go a little "coo-coo". They don't care if their bby isn't quite the same type of avian as them, or how old or young they are. Once they've set their sights on them, they're fixated. They don't want anything to happen to them, and it drives them so close to slipping into their instincts whenever they leave, but, they'll struggle to remain normal. They don't want to scare them off. But, they don't think they can fight it for much longer...

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #🪶Avian AU

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call-me-frosting-or-not-idc · 2 months

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*grabby hands*

Can haves OCs pls? 🥺

Omg omg omg I have so many SO

Basically they are all in the same universe but it gets kinda confusion so imma do a lore dump sorry.

There once was a rocky dry world with few animals and few people. Plants didn’t really grow much either. But there were these shadow creatures and they were bad. Eventually these monsters took over this whole world. The people being scared would calm down their children with stories of a beautiful world full of plants and stuff. So when these monsters got powerful enough to cover the entire universe in shadow all that was left was the idea of these stories. Anywho these stories came to life and a new universe was created. But this universe only lasts as long as the story was and when the story ends the monsters kill this new universe and a new story starts. Anyways all my ocs are spread out over all these universes :)

Quinn is an osprey bird person who was technically born male but dyes their feathers to have some female colors and is enby. They have a cloak that can’t be hurt by the monsters and was given to them by the god of “evil” who they became friends with in their original universe so they watch over every universe and are kinda the personification of love too!! <3

#hi sorry this is long

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ruleofvee · 9 months

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(huge ty to @cozy-kitty-corner for inspiring this scene and brainrotting with me <3)

~=~ He flails, desperate, undoing the clasp of his cloak with scrabbling hands, shrugging it off, letting it fall away in the wind. His wings stretch out, trying to catch any degree of lift, and his heart soars into his throat as his wings beat once, twice, thrice, he can't do it, he's never flown, he's never ever flown -

Something in his head, something that runs hot and wild past the numbing fear, seems to click. Instinctively, he angles his wings to catch the drag. Feathers fly away into the ether, snatched by the wind, and he strains. He can feel it. The lift, the cant of the wind, almost, almost, he's almost there, almost, almost -

And then his wings catch it, and his stomach flips upside down, and his fall slows, and his wings beat, and it slows and slows until he's not falling anymore.

Until he's flying.

It tastes like salvation. He is a man dying of thirst and every wingbeat is a drop of water he finally, finally gets to have. Avians are meant to fly - and he understands. He understands, he understands.

(His dad was right about everything.)

A screech, joyful, bubbles in his chest. He doesn't bother restraining it, lets it surge and surge and crest forth into a feral song with the cadence of an osprey's hunting call. Movements that should have been clumsy are sleek and clean as his dusty instincts work in overdrive, and he soars and soars, higher and higher, the castle wall a blur in front of his eyes until, until -

Until brick turns to sky, and he sees green.

Mentor, that beaten part of his mind says. It's quiet, subdued, barely convincing. No, the voices are so much louder, filled with so much more conviction:

They call Dream prey.

#sbi au #sbi #sbi fanfic #technoblade #dream #saturated sunrise au

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granhairdopoetry · 4 months

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in defense of the seabird and pigeon

birds are strange creatures

like old, weathered woman

in long, lacy cloaks

tell me when you think

of a sign sent from above

is it lion?

or is it the dove?

think of every expression

the canon of metaphors

used time after time

all that remains is this strange feathered creatures

why?

i ask

why?

why must the osprey cry

to the strange coastal tourists

who still gawk at large pelican bills

with large bills of their own

who’s to question the mournful loon

who floats on blue water

like a drowned man in the lake

oh and it cries

does it cry for the lost?

and does it cry for the mourned?

why do we praise the sparrow, the lark

but we complain to the pigeons

who peer through hospital waiting room windows

and we say

shoo!

with that damned logic

we’re all just pests

we watch those we admire

but if they stare to us

what do our complex minds look to?

#poetry #poets on tumblr

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junypr-camus · 2 years

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Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @writingpotato07!

My words are: Favor, Glass, Light, Door, Surprise

favor:

“By prior agreement we will vote on the next Resistance leader. However, in times like this, such formalities seem unnecessary. All in favor of Terry Silver?” I spun slowly, taking in the people around me without looking at any of them. They blurred into a mess of tired, dusty bodies, heads inclined in respect, hands raised. I stopped spinning, shaking my head. “No. Not me. I can’t do this.” Camus placed his hands on my shoulders. “You have to.”

glass:

And then I saw him. The face that I could scarcely remember, had it not been for the photos and recordings. Yes, he was bound, but he was alive, staring at me from just beyond the one-way glass. I willed myself into that room, longing to stand next to him, to speak to him. But he was just a memory, unaware of my presence. He looked straight through me as he mouthed four words. “Take care of her.”

light:

“Matter and antimatter annihilate. Electrons, protons, neutrons, the building blocks of this world, meet their other-worldly counter-parts: positrons, negatrons, anti-neutrons, and transform into pure energy: light and heat, mostly, but the equivalent of millions of tons of dynamite contained in a few grams. It’s an immense amount of energy from such a tiny amount — the biggest, most beautiful explosion you will ever see. And quite possibly the last, if you’re not careful. You’re dealing with enough energy to destroy a city. Don’t try this by yourself.”

door:

I had never been inside before. Few had. Mysteriousness cloaked Professor Remin like his leather trench coat. One rarely glimpsed his life outside the classroom. I stood at the door for a moment, soaking it in. It was a small office, golden with the fingers of the afternoon sun, which danced upon the room: first the desk, then the sofa, then the thick cream rug and the books lined up on the shelves, and the posters plastered over every inch of the white-washed walls — I could just make out a diagram of the LHC, another of the V-22 Osprey. The place felt suffused with a warmth that reassured, dream-like yet wholly familiar.

surprise:

Skylar was glaring at us. Her hands were bound but her look made it clear that she would bite anyone who came near. “So what will you do to me now?” she asked. I can take whatever you throw at me, she seemed to say. Camus put his hands in his pockets, hiding the EMD. “We’re just going to wipe your memory, as we said.” Skylar’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.” Camus feigned surprise. “Lying? No.” He stepped behind her and slipped the EMD over her ear. Skylar passed out for the second time that day.

I'm leaving this as an open tag for anyone who wants to join!

Your words are: false, alone, bird, dream, unlike

#tag game #find the word game #seranid #writeblr #creative writing

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astaldis · 2 years

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To kill or not to kill

Summary: On Thanedd Ciri is cornered by the black knight of her numerous nightmares. And really wants to kill the man who, in her mind, is responsible for all the bad things that have happened to her, for everything she has lost. Wants to shove her sword through his throat until his feathers are soaked in blood...

**********************

A horse's hooves are thudding on the road. Looking back, to her absolute horror, Ciri sees a huge black stallion coming after her at top speed, horse shoes sending up sparks from the cobble stones. And on the horse a knight in black armour and a helmet decorated with raptor wings. The black knight of Cintra. As he is quickly closing in on her, the wings on his helmet whooshing and the black cloak streaming behind him, she knows that this time he is real, not just a figment of her imagination like during her flight to Hirundum to find Geralt, or in her many nightmares. This time, the dark knight is truly after her and she has to run for her life.

So Ciri runs. As fast as she can. As the horse bursts through the roadside bushes, the knight shouts something, but Ciri does not understand a word for the hammering of blood in her ears. There is a high hedge and she leaps over it, her overwhelming fear giving her wings. She wants to continue her wild flight, however, to her great shock, there is nowhere to run. The small courtyard she finds herself in, a yard with a fountain in the middle, is encircled by smooth, high walls on three sides and the hedge on the fourth. Frantically, while she can hear the terrifying clip clop of the black knight's black horse coming ever closer, she looks around for an exit. But the only opening in the wall is locked by a cast iron, ornamented grille door with a heavy iron padlock. There is no way out. She is trapped like a fish in a weir, the osprey hovering in the sky above and ready to swoop. With her back to the far wall, she sees the black horse jumping the hedge, the bird of prey flapping its wings, taking flight. The stallion skids to a halt on the stone slabs and sits on its haunches. The dark knight sways in the saddle and topples over, his gleaming black armour clattering on the stones, but both rider and horse regain their footing immediately. Slowly, the knight moves toward her as she is pinned into a corner. Ciri is paralysed, not able to move, barely able to breath. He rises up like a huge, black tower, the wings on his helmet moving to and fro, whispering ominously.

"You will not escape me now, o Lion Cub of Cintra," he says in a low voice that sends chills up and down her spine. "Not this time. This time you have nowhere to run, o reckless maiden."

"You will not touch me!" she screams in utter terror. "You will never touch me again!"

"I have to. I am carrying out orders."

Suddenly, as he holds out his hand to seize the girl who is frozen with panic, there is a loud whoosh of air and the prickling electricity of magic. The black knight is slammed hard into the wall, his winged helmet falling off his head from the blast.

"You!" a shrill, but very familiar voice is shouting. "I should have known it was you all along! How could I have been so blind?"

"Y-Yennefer?" the black knight almost stutters, blinking rapidly while trying to get back on his feet.

Read the complete story on Archive of our own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40814940

Drawings below by: https://www.instagram.com/eclipse_of_roses/

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vincentfusco · 10 months

Video

youtube

⛰ MOUNTAIN CLOUD CLOAKED UFO ?

https://www.bitchute.com/video/LbrHRfu1t956/ #MILITARY LANDING IN SUBURBAN NEIGHBORS IN LARKSPER #CALIFORNIA MASSIVE MILITARY MOVEMENTS IN USA https://www.bitchute.com/video/lLAxnPGxNb9N/ PHILADELPHIA MILITARY IS THE ONLY WAY TRUMP Q https://www.bitchute.com/video/F46EXoZnLJKm/ SPOTTED IN #MONTREAL CANADA https://www.bitchute.com/video/6QSeix1h7qUZ/ MICHIGAN https://www.bitchute.com/video/U7926VwF6RVL/ Major movement of tanks headed east! MILITARY IS THE ONLY WAY USA TRUMP https://www.bitchute.com/video/EMv3LsxKBS6w/ TRUMP Q ANON QANON MILITARY IS IN CONTROL CALIFORNIA https://www.bitchute.com/video/fmrs01VuRprs/B-2 Spirit stealTH bombers flying over Minnesota and reports from military sources that missile defense systems are being moved to locations on the U.S. West Coast https://www.bitchute.com/video/3eDnd3I5UGIp/ - Caryl Phillips Jun 17, 2023 at 828 PM Philadelphia PA - TRUMP MILITARY IS THE ONLY WAY, IN CONTROL https://www.bitchute.com/video/wLKKCksGbbTQ/ 06-17-2023 Tank group on the highway in Idaho falls THIS WHIS WEEKEND! TRUMP Q MILITARY IS THE ONLY WAY https://www.bitchute.com/video/vBjEQg8zjiYv/ train with military equipment heading from Arizona to California https://www.bitchute.com/video/owrtEFrvPr1f/ Osprey military operations happening in California https://www.bitchute.com/video/Zn5i15JHaYdT/ V-22 Osprey military aircraft on the ground in suburban #California https://www.bitchute.com/video/tpnAZvFtIpLs/ Military activity in Miami, FLORIDA USA MILITARY IN CONTROL, THE ONLY WAY TRUMP Q ANONS JFKJR QANON B-52 STEALTH BOMBER

https://www.bitchute.com/video/aPrxuX595npK/ Massive amounts of military equipment being moved by train into California including armored attack vehicles, personnel carriers, and support resources https://www.bitchute.com/video/vtdjl2q8HooT/ Massive amounts of military equipment being moved by train into California including armored attack vehicles, personnel carriers, and support resources PART 2 https://www.bitchute.com/video/vtdjl2q8HooT/ 06-17-2023-https://www.bitchute.com/video/5v8Zv88MIRBE/ MILITARY TRUCKS TANK AND OTHER VEHICLES Spotted in #Montreal June 17 2023 https://www.bitchute.com/video/kbH1HoBDHRaa/ A 11 Year Old Girl From Bakhmut Tells How The White Angels Of The AFU Kidnapped Children https://www.bitchute.com/video/5yVRKLmrPaHi/ Military seen driving through West Hollywood, California https://www.bitchute.com/video/UDCBHDnjGw5z/ READY OR NOT, HERE WE COME, YOU CAN'T HIDE https://www.bitchute.com/video/bLazE1vqowqY/ 🔥💣 UKRAINE RUSSIA WAR Kamenskoye sector enemy once again initiated small assault actions 🔥💣 https://www.bitchute.com/video/XDcqSPNa9v0N/ 🏄 🤙 BASED RUSSIAN SOLDIER Surfing somewhere near Artyomovsk. UKRAINE RUSSIA WAR 🏄 https://www.bitchute.com/video/pZEwNIsziQmc/ 🔥💣UKRAINE RUSSIA WAR Ukrainian SOLDIER Armed Forces Occupying Russian trenches BLOWN UP🔥💣 https://www.bitchute.com/video/30xxC0GSrMBg/ 🔥💥UKRAINIAN ARMED FORCES LAUNCHED AN ASSAULT ON RUSSIAN POSITIONS NEAR UGLEDAR ENCOUNTERED 🔥 https://www.bitchute.com/video/dT0htxOFXuic/ 🔥💥💣 CONSEQUENCES OF THE MISSILE AND ARTILLERY STRIKE RUSSIA ARMED FORCES ON THE UKRAINE WAR🔥💥 https://www.bitchute.com/video/xKmSrmxsPRJh/ 🔥💥💣72nd Brigade Ukrainian Armed Forces, supported by armored vehicles, launched an attack🔥💥💣 https://www.bitchute.com/video/bLazE1vqowqY/ 🔥💣 UKRAINE RUSSIA WAR Kamenskoye sector enemy once again initiated small assault actions 🔥💣 https://www.bitchute.com/video/Tq2rUqkuTbYI/ MORE FIGHTING AGE UKRAINIANS KIDNAPPED, SHOVED INTO THE RUSSIAN MEAT GRINDER TO STAND W UKRAINE https://www.bitchute.com/video/BctSodZtp6AJ/ 🎶🎶🎶🎶 Have you ever seen the rain? TRUMP STORM COMING - 🎶 MUSIC 🎶🎶🎶🎶 https://www.bitchute.com/video/1tiFhrrPPsKC/ #UKRAINE #WINNING #🥇 #RUSSIA #WAR ?? #TruthSocial #TRUTH #RETRUTH #TWITTER #THIS #PLEASE #THANKYOU #THANKQ https://www.bitchute.com/video/xov0tlvFdaUv/ FIGHT OF THE CENTURY? TWO MALE BEARS GO AT IT HARDER THAN IVE SEEN ANYTHING EVER FIGHT

#youtube

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my-yasiuae · 11 months

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بالنسبة للعديد من سائقي السيارات الكهربائية، فإن القلق الأكبر أثناء السير على الطريق هو الخوف من نفاد الشحن. لكن محاولات البحث المحموم عن محطة شحن يمكن أن تصبح قريبًا ذكريات من الماضي، وذلك بفضل عباءة حرارية جديدة تعد بجعل البطاريات تدوم لفترة أطول.بنات أفكار باحثين صينيينبحسب ما نشرته "ديلي ميل" البريطانية، إن العباءة من بنات أفكار باحثين من جامعة شنغهاي جياو تونغ، وهي مصممة للحفاظ على السيارات الكهربائية باردة في الصيف ودافئة في الشتاء، وتجدر الإشارة إلى أن العباءة تقوم بوظيفتها دون الحاجة إلى أي مدخلات طاقة خارجية.قال دكتور كيهانغ كوي، كبير الباحثين في الدراسة، إن "العباءة الحرارية مثل أغطية المركبات والمباني والمركبات الفضائية أو حتى الموائل خارج كوكب الأرض للحفاظ على البرودة في الصيف والدفء في الشتاء".تأثير ارتفاع وانخفاض الحرارةمن المعروف أن أداء السيارات ا��كهربائية يتأثر في البرودة الشديدة، لأن البطاريات تعمل بكفاءة أقل عندما تنخفض درجات الحرارة إلى صفر وما دون الصفر درجة مئوية.تعتمد بطاريات الليثيوم أيون في معظم السيارات الكهربائية الحديثة على تفاعل كيميائي لتخزين الكهرباء وإطلاقها، ولكن عندما يكون الجو أكثر برودة، تتباطأ العملية وبالتالي تقيد أداء البطارية، مما يؤدي إلى خسارة كبيرة في نطاق الشحن القابل للاستخدام.درجة الحرارة المثاليةوكما أوضح مهندسو شركة الشحن الكهربي العام Osprey، تتمتع بطاريات السيارات الكهربائية بدرجة حرارة مثالية تتراوح بين 20 و25 درجة مئوية.كما يتأثر مخزون الشحن الكهربائي للبطاريات عندما يكون الطقس أكثر سخونة بشكل سلبي لأن يتداخل بشكل كبير مع التفاعل الكيميائي ونقل الطاقة في البطارية. لذا، صمم الباحثون عباءة حرارية يمكن أن تخمد تقلبات درجات الحرارة الطبيعية. ألياف السيليكا وسبائك الألومنيومتحتوي العباءة، التي يطلق عليها اسم Janus Thermal Cloak ، على مكونين رئيسيين - طبقة خارجية تعكس ضو�� الشمس وطبقة داخلية تساعد على حبس الحرارة بالداخل. تم تصنيع الطبقة الخارجية من ألياف رقيقة من السيليكا مطلية برقائق من نيتريد البورون السداسي، وهي مادة خزفية تشبه الرسم. يتم جدل الألياف ونسجها معًا في قماش، قبل ربطها بالطبقة الداخلية من سبائك الألومنيوم.مدى فعالية متميزلتقييم مدى فعالية العباءة الحرارية، أجرى فريق الباحثين تجاربهم على المركبات الكهربائية المتوقفة في أماكن مكشوفة في شنغهاي، حيث تم اختبار سيارة مكشوفة وتبين أن درجة حرارة مقصورتها وصلت إلى 50.5 درجة مئوية في منتصف النهار. ولكن عند وضع العباءة الحرارية على السيارة توقفت درجة حرارة المقصورة الداخلية عند 22.8 درجة مئوية، أي 27.7 درجة مئوية أقل.وفي منتصف الليل، لم تنخفض درجة حرارة السيارات المغطاة بالعباءة الحرارية أبدًا إلى ما دون 0 درجة مئوية، أي أنها كانت أعلى بـ6.8 درجة مئوية من درجة الحرارة في الخارج. احترار بدون مدخلات طاقةقال دكتور كوي إنها "المرة الأولى، التي يمكن فيها تحقيق ارتفاع في درجة حرارة أعلى من درجة الحرارة المحيطة بنحو 7 درجات مئوية خلال ليالي الشتاء، ومن المثير للدهشة أنه لا توجد مدخلات للطاقة أو أشعة الشمس ولا يزال بالإمكان إحداث الاحترار".تطبيقات في العالم الحقيقييقول فريق الباحثين إن العباءة الحرارية مصممة بشكل هادف لجعل زيادة الإنتاج أسهل في المستقبل، وأنه يتم حاليًا إجراء مزيد من الاختبارات الميدانية على نطاق واسع وتحليل لترجمة مقاييس وأداء العباء الحراري بغرض تحقيق فوائد اقتصادية في العالم الحقيقي، مثل النسبة المئوية لعمر البطارية التي يمكننا زيادتها أو مقدار الطاقة الكهربائية التي سيمكن توفيره سنويًا إذا تم توسيع نطاق استخدام العباءة الحرارية لتشمل المركبات والمباني". موقع العربية

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darcywho · 2 years

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Day 22: On the beach before dawn as remnants of a shipwreck wash onto shore.

Wanna join the RPCDev Discord to participate in prompts and events like this? Feel free!

Most of the time, reservations arrive quietly and discreetly, even the quinjets come in under the blanket of night nine times out of ten, even when cloaked. Sometimes, however, arrivals come crashing into their reservations, sporting smoke and bullet holes and a few injuries to boot. The crashes are a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep for Darcy. Any debris that falls in or around the canyon are her responsibility to retrieve with the Pinzgauer as property of SHIELD and/or the US government.

‘Cause that’s not wildly suspicious for a safehouse or anything.

Or maybe STAKE assumed that any locals would understand that Darcy was a little out there like the rest of Puente Antiguo after Thor. Or maybe they thought that any sort of cover she might come up with to explain it away from the locals would be taken more seriously between her previous tenure in town in 2011 combined with her PhD.

She’s currently hosting three agents fresh off such a mission that left some debris off the damaged quinjet by the watering hole. Or at least that’s what she saw during their arrival from Oz’s radar. They’re currently posted up in their beds with the Faceless Old Woman and Oz playing ward nurses to their medical needs. For the most part, it’s minor injuries and abrasions, but whatever damaged the quinjet clearly triggered a fire or something, because two of the agents were sporting burns on their hands and forearms from dealing with it.

They had arrived with dusk with Oz’s versions of klaxons blaring, alerting her to both the damage and the reported injuries. She’d shot off the couch where she had been going over some deep space telemetry reports as they connected to her own research late into the night with a stack of legal pads piled high and littered with notes in her loopy script, sending pens and highlighters scattering across the wood floors and rolling beneath the furniture, as she bolted out of the main living space down into the underground hangars to meet the agents. She’s gotten used to the Faceless Old Woman enough that she was able to recognize when the ghostly roommate was following behind her by the gentle prickling up the back of her neck. Suppressing the full-body shiver that acknowledging the prickle caused, she skidded into the control room just as the quinjet’s wheels touched down. The high-powered motors whirred from exertion raising and quickly lowering the landing pad and closing the hangar doors. The acrid smell of exhaust always reminded Darcy of the smell of her dad’s garage when she was a child and he was refurbishing a classic car.

She met the agents, shambling off the quinjet’s ramp like a trio of zombies, with their gear stored in the secure footlockers in the rear of the jet, and bandages wrapped around what skin she could see on their battered and burned hands.

She jerked her head towards the small medical room down the hall near the house entrance, and the agents obediently filed in. After a quick orientation and first aid, cleaning and applying fresh bandages the burns specifically, she introduced them to both Oz and the Faceless Old Woman and saddled up in the Pinz to retrieve the damaged pieces of quinjet.

“Oz, please send the medical reports to the agents’ commander, and place the Osprey on lockdown while I’m retrieving the lost parts. Please go into Overwatch protocols while the Faceless Old Woman tends to the agents,” Darcy called out, meeting where the Faceless Old Woman’s eyes would be if she had them in the small mirror above the sink where she cleaned her hands of any bits she picked up from the agents. Her roommate nodded reassuringly.

“I was a nurse once, I think,” the spectral figure intoned with a faraway look. “These gentlemen will be in good hands.” That was good enough for Darcy, who readily went back upstairs to lace up her hiking boots and grab her utility gloves and her daily carry. She mounted up in the Pinz and left dust trails behind her on the journey out to the watering hole.

She was grateful for the lights on top of the Pinz illuminating one of the darker corners of the canyon, even if she felt like she was on the verge of running across Jason Voorhees at Camp Crystal Lake with the way the light shimmered across the still water. Twisting around her seat to check the area, Darcy spotted a panel of scorched and twisted metal sticking out of the damp sand closest to the water’s edge with smaller fragments floating in the water a few feet away, twinkling in the twilight, and a blissfully empty surrounding area. She set the Pinz on Overwatch, and adjusted her earpiece connected to Oz before stepping out of the Pinz with her work gloves in one hand and her holstered ICER within reach of the other.

The cold wrapped around her, sinking into her outermost layers like a winter frost. Her breath came out in white puffs as she trudged towards the debris. Something tucked under a patch of rabbitbrush skittered back from the water as she approached, and she figured it was one of the many nocturnal creatures that called the canyon their home. The spiky rear end of a porcupine shielding herself and her baby scrunching under a thick rabbitbrush confirmed Darcy’s suspicions.

The brunette tugged on her utility gloves a few steps away from the metal piece, just as Oz’s voice crackled over her earpiece, “Dr. Lewis, STAKE will be dispatching a medical nit to come and collect the guests. They’re estimated to arrive tomorrow afternoon, and a recovery team will collect the debris you’re retrieving after the medical unit leaves, but they ask that you transport the debris to a designated rendezvous in town so as not to attract more attention to the Osprey.”

She sighed and a large column of white spiraled starward.

Grasping the twisted debris, she wiggled it back and forth from its spot in the sand to loosen it. “Tell them that I can be in town around 4:30 pm, local time, depending on how long the med team takes,” she grunted the last word out, trying to heave the broken aluminum and fried circuitry out to carry back to the Pinz.

Between such recovery operations and her own gardening, Darcy distantly thought she should add weight training to her to-do list before she threw her back out terribly. It was quickly followed up by the notion that her brother would likely tease her regardless of the health benefits. Because what else were brother for?

“They’re amenable to your timetable, Doctor, and request that you meet them at rendezvous point bravo.”

Bravo was the old lab, if memory served her. It had been left empty since she, Jane, and Erik packed up. Erik to parts unknown until the data dump, and the women to England and Norway to continue rainbow bridge research. She was pretty sure that SHIELD had acquired the property and it had been a candidate to be converted into what the Osprey currently was, but it had been determined to be poorly suited given its central location in Puente Antiguo in addition to its association with Thor combined with the data dump its location had already been compromised before they even broke ground on the Osprey.

Grunting and tugging her way back to the six-wheeler, Darcy miraculously managed to lever the aluminum panel into the back of the Pinzgauer, sliding it across the floor until it hit the back of the back row of seats where the gray and white blanket was draped, sheltered between two upright sections of equipment she designed and modeled after the Original Pinz from more than a decade earlier, leaving room for improvements.

Once it was secure, she straightened up and caught her breath, huffing out puffs of white like a living chimney while reconsidering her earlier stance on weight lifting. Eventually, she reached back in and pulled out a fishing net she’d learned to include in the Pinz’s setup for various reasons, and trudged back to the water to fish out the smaller pieces of debris she’d spotted. The pyramid of zodiacal light, settled into it’s usual place along the horizon, gave the impression of a dawn that was still a ways off.

During daylight, she’d have to trawl the water and retrieve any extraneous bits, but as she had told Otxoa early on in her tenure, she was not a trained agent and he sure as shit shouldn’t expect her to act as one for clean up duty.

#rpcdev #spooky tea for rpcdev #hc #drabble #v; Copper Osprey #re; Weird At Last (Nightvale AU)

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sshbpodcast · 2 years

Text

Vessel detected: Alien ships in Star Trek: Part 2

By Ames

We saw some Birds-of-Prey last week when we invited the Klingon ships onto the lot, and this week we’re seeing some birds of a different color: Romulan green! These ships are even more avian in shape and nature, and they’re sneakier to boot!

So lift your glasses of Romulan ale as A Star to Steer Her By welcomes the Romulan ships from across Star Trek to our shipyard. See them all decloak below and follow our chatter over on this week’s podcast episode. Don’t tell the Tal Shiar.

[images © CBS/Paramount, Ex Astris Scientia, Eaglemoss Ltd., Star Trek Shipyards, Star Trek Timelines, probably others]

Bird-of-Prey

The first Romulan ship we glimpse in The Original Series has the most birdlike resemblance, mainly because it has a giant orange bird painted on its underside! And though the cartoon bird image may look more like a goofy turkey than a threatening bird of prey, it’s still instantly recognizable and a feast for the eyes. The shape itself kinda looks more like any of the Federation ships we’ve discussed previously, with a round hull and tubular nacelles with orange bussard collectors sticking out on the side, but how much can we really ask from an era spent mostly fighting the budget?

D’deridex class

Famously, the Romulans are back in TNG’s “The Neutral Zone,” and they’ve got a new warbird to intimidate us in. Like the BOP, it cloaks, it uncloaks, it juliennes fries. It’s also the first in a line of Romulan ships to brandish their trademark green color. The general bird shape is still there, especially when viewed from above where it quite greatly resembles the Klingon Bird-of-Prey’s wings-neck-head structure. But the real pièce de résistance is its huge, hollow area in the body, which is such a unique design we don’t really see anywhere else!

Valdore

Say what you will about Star Trek: Nemesis (and boy howdy, we have), we do get to see some pretty fantastic ships. Let’s start with the Valdore, the Romulan warbird we see Donatra (among others) flying around in. It’s a much fiercer bird than we’ve seen from either of the Romulans or Klingons so far, partly because it just looks so sharp. This ship is like an osprey made out of steak knives. In space. And despite its sleek and narrow design, it manages to not look like it will break in half like some skinny-ass ships I could name.

Scimitar

The other villain ship of Nemesis to regard is Shinzon’s ship, the Scimitar, which we’re going to lump here because Romulans and Remans are inseparable. Don’t think too long about how this ship got made, just appreciate its complexity and dynamism. We don’t see nearly enough ships that have an action mode that just screams to be made into a toy, but the Scimitar’s change from a batlike wing to a whole bunch of spiderleg wings might be one of the highlights of an otherwise drek film.

Bird-of-Prey (ENT)

Let’s jump to Enterprise where we see an earlier version of the Romulan Bird-of-Prey, looking very much like a greet boomerang. I don’t know if I’d call it birdlike, per se. Possibly more like a manta ray. But it’s good to see that Romulan green color glowing eerily in the blackness of space. They’re also quite cute when you get down to it. The lines are nicely arced and the impression I get is that these things just look very zippy. Are they as good as the early Federation ships and early Klingon ships at indicating that these designs came before the more well-known shapes? That’s more debatable.

Warbird (PIC)

I forget why I ordered the ships in this way, but we’re jumping to the end of season 1 of Picard now and looking at the next incarnation of the warbird. While there are a lot of warbirds in that finale, we get the best looks at the flagship flown by General Oh. It’s the sleekest, feistiest warbird so far and looks incredibly flat. You could probably make a kite design out of this thing pretty easily. But we also see that trademark green lights and bulbous head on it, reminiscent of the D’deridex class we just looked at.

Narada

Again, my chronology was off when ordering these slides, so we’re jumping randomly to the Narada from Star Trek 2009 because someone reset the timeline or something. Like many things from the Kelvin movies, the design of whatever the hell this is (no way in hell am I calling it a ship) is so overdone and unnecessary that it boggles the mind. There just is no logical design to this thing. I can’t tell you where on this behemoth anything is. Where’s the bridge? Does it have any windows or airlocks? What propels it in any particular direction? Did JJ pull this thing out of a showerdrain? Just, what is going on other than having your artists make something really fancy looking and huge?

Bird-of-Prey (SNW)

Once again, Strange New Worlds doing it right. When we see the Romulan Bird-of-Prey in the season 1 finale (in this case, the same BOP that we saw in TOS), the design is just a cleanup and update of the ship we all know and remember. No need to reinvent the wheel here! The idea is clear: this is what the 60s ship would have looked like if they had had the technology, not a pure and unnecessary redesign like certain Kelvin Enterprises I could name. The plating is more grey now because our televisions are better at picking up contrast. The lights are green now because, frankly, they should have been green in the first place. And the bird on the belly is the same orange rooster it always was but less cartoonish and with more flair. This is a ship that, in other circumstances, we could have called friend.

—

That’s it from our two villain races who are the most visible (when they choose to be visible, that is). Next week we’ll open the gates for even more alien ships to park, put their hoods up, and let us inspect them. In the meantime, you can keep up with our full watch through Trek with our Voyager coverage on SoundCloud or wherever you listen to podcasts, hail us on Facebook and Twitter, and don’t feed the warbirds.

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dourpeep · 3 years

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Hello, i want to req kazuha x f!reader and if you can do nsfw, please 👉🏻👈🏻 since it's kazuha, maybe he's more like soft!dom. Thank you!

IEHFIEH OKAY OKAY I got really excited about writing this so it's a WHOPPING 3K WORDS! So many words

Kazuha's another Xiao situation for me, it seems...not to mention my favorite to write is very painfully obviously soft doms. That being said, I did make him a little more flirty than his voice lines suggest.

The poem that is referenced in the fic is In the Sea of Iwami by Kakinomoto Hitomaro!

Drowning in You

Summary: At first, you know little of the mysterious ronin's past, but little by little, you find your fates entwined.

Contains: ((NSFW 18+)) Kazuha x afab!reader, soft dom!Kazuha, reader is traveler but not Aether or Lumine, small mention of alcohol, hint of overstim, poetic

How vast, the ocean seems to be, even more so in the dark of night. Above, the sky is a spattered array with thousands of glittering stars, the moon but a sliver. The ship gently rocks in the calm waters as a meager dot upon waves. Despite the moon's position already setting back down along the dark curtain of night and the crew's final decision to retire to their quarters, you're awake.

Lost in all the thoughts of how you've just begun to experience all Liyue has only to now be well on your way to Inazuma.

The dangers that others have spoken of, that you know are to come…you’re sure that your resolve will be tested once more in the unfamiliar land.

The silent repose is interrupted by a voice.

"May I join you, traveler?"

Kazuha.

As you've come to find in the few days you've been aboard the Alcor, the red-dressed man often sits and watches the way the waves roll along the surface of the ocean and the birds soar across the sky. Lost in all that the sea has to offer, there's hardly a moment when he's not tuned in to the whispers of nature in quiet appreciation. Though, you notice, never this toward morning.

Shuffling to the side, you pat the solid wooden deck beside you. He takes a seat with legs folded beneath him.

"It's beautiful tonight—the gentle breeze, the sounds of the water hitting the hull...I fully understand the appeal. But why is it you're still awake?"

Before tonight, you've hardly heard the gentle timbre of his voice. The raspiness—whether natural or from his own fatigue, you're not sure, but a feeling of warmth settles. It swirls, tempting. Breaking your thoughts, you politely meet his gaze.

"Thinking, of everything, I guess."

You pull your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them. Though it’s a warm night, the breeze provides a chill from the ocean.

"Of Inazuma, too."

Kazuha hums in understanding.

Once more, the silence of the ship and sea envelop you to drift back to your thoughts, closing your eyes and forgetting what your handsome companion just stirred in you.

But your mind drifts back to him regardless.

Your heart quickens at the thought of him staring out towards the sea, the sun shining down just right and highlighting pale hair and scarlet eyes.

There’s little doubt that he’s caught your eye, handsome, with an aura of unknown strength. A wanted man, from what Beidou has told you. Forever on the run and far from home. She fully believes there’s no need to worry, but you know others might think otherwise.

They whisper how it’s certain with the breathtaking skill he displays in his swordsmanship that his abilities come from a multitude of experience. Speaking of the way he keeps so to himself. A samurai with a lack of a master.

A ronin.

It’s not surprising, the rumors that spread quick.

Though, you find, the speculation of danger quickly dissipates once the realization of his gentle spirit and knack for poetry comes to light. He’s gentle, you realize. Kind.

It’s hard to believe someone as free-spirited as he would be a criminal.

Kazuha is patient, body turned so he’s facing you while you think, examining the look upon your features. The realization that you’ve been lost in your thoughts about the very man warms your cheeks. You finally speak up.

“And you?”

“Most of the same,” He replies. “There’s no need to worry—about Inazuma, I mean. After what I’ve seen, I trust in your abilities.”

His hand settles atop one of yours. Its touch is warm.

“I may not be able to join you, but I’m sure of this.”

You look back out to the deep blue waters. But he doesn’t move, not until you look back into eyes the color of the very maple leaves he dons.

Expression serious, Kazuha leans closer. The skip in your chest worsens the heat that creeps up your neck and cheeks. But as quickly as he does, he pulls away, his hand returning to lay in his lap.

“Away I have come, parting from her / Even as the creeping vines do part. / My heart aches within me…”

Wistful, he recites, and turns his gaze to the moon.

“A poem, from my homeland. Bittersweet in it’s meaning. Whether he sees his lover upon his return—it isn’t known.”

“Do you? Miss someone?”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not quite in the same way. A friend. Though I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to have someone like that. Someone to hold so dearly within your very being that the thought of being without them brings physical pain…”

A hand lifts, pressing to his chest as if trying to feel for heaviness.

The two of you watch the night for a bit longer in silence.

As your long and arduous journey dwindles, you find yourself seeking Kazuha’s company more and more.

Unbeknownst to you, he does the same.

Most often, it’s between duties on the ship, arms leaning against the wood banister as you both watch the waves and birds as they meet in swoops. They glide with wings tucked, diving into the murky waters, soon to break back through with a prize.

An osprey, he tells you.

The pleasant bird-watching comes quickly to an end before you’re both swept back into work until late afternoon when the crew gathers to drink and celebrate.

After all, there’s only a few days left until you finally dock at your destination and the night is beautiful and clear.

You find Kazuha tucked away towards the quarterdeck.

With everyone else scattered on the main deck, the two of you are left alone with the waves and wind.

“You’re not going to join them?”

He looks up from his drink, setting it down before rising. Despite the way the sun has set, you can clearly see the mirth dancing in his eyes. Kazuha stops a few inches away from your face with his head tilted in question.

“Weeks we have known each other now…should I be offended that you’re still asking that?”

Clearly the unimpressed look on your face is enough to make him chuckle and apologize.

“No, I won’t be joining them. Not when I’d rather stay away and have you to myself instead.”

You flush and give him a little push. Again, he laughs and apologizes but you know that he doesn’t mean it. Regardless, you brush past him to sit where he was before, patting the deck in a way not different from that first night. All the same, your heart skips a beat.

“May I join you, traveler?”

A smile spreads across your lips. “Of course.”

So he sits and the two of you find solace in the little conversations you have.

It’s nice, to have someone to be close to, to share interests despite having backgrounds so distinct. He offers you a bit of his drink and you take a sip, holding it between both your hands. The face you make, he decides, is unforgettable just as it is hilarious. But his innocent enjoyment only lasts so long.

A dribble of the deep liquid beads at the corner of your lip.

You miss the way that his attention flicks to the way your tongue peeks out to catch the glistening drop.

Kazuha shifts, eyes flicking from your lip back down to the cup in your hand.

When his hand touches yours, guiding you to place the cup down, you snort. But he continues so he can interlace your fingers with his, to hear the way your breath shifts and sees how your pupils dilate when you realize the difference in his mood.

Would you mind if he were to…?

When your lips part and your eyes lower to his, he gets his answer.

"I hear the way that your heart beats loudly in your chest, your breath bated...” Really, his own hammers in his chest, louder than the crash of waves against the ship’s hull. He squeezes your hand.

“Just as I can feel your desire."

And truthfully, you know he’s noticed the way your gaze lingers on him. How when you two accidentally brush hands that you don’t immediately pull away. Not anymore.

Small flashes of little interactions with him come to light.

Finally, he leans in, and you find that his lips taste of the lingering bitterness of wine, tongue sweet as it laps at yours. He looses himself in the velvet of your lips and how they seem to meld to his so perfectly, the music of your sighs filling his senses and your heart beats like the rumble of the ocean.

To know what it’s like to hold someone so dear…this must be what that is.

Languid, your lips move against each other’s, reluctant to stop. Under the light of the maroon sky, you’re cloaked in the warmth of his body against yours.

When he finally parts, you’re laying against the deck with him hovering above you.

“I don’t want to regret this—the mere thought of being apart…”

He brushes a stray hair from your face, fingertips tracing over the curve of your cheek.

“Even if it means I will be risking my life, I will follow where you go. Destiny has made its mark, so who am I to break it?”

How can you refuse, seeing the sincerity of his vow, trusting the very man you met and befriended and come to love in a few weeks’ time? To know his gentle nature, the way that he seems always so aware of the world around him, the carefree way he approaches all he does—you’d known, somewhere deep within, that the moment he asks to accompany you, you’d selfishly say yes.

But it’s all too much to express in word, so you pull him down to meet you, desperate and yearning.

It’s easy, natural, the way that you melt into each other, fumbling as he helps you stand up—to make your way to his quarters between kisses.

The others still are above deck celebrating, unaware of the blossoming bloom between you, the private quarters void of anyone else. The door to his room swings open as soon as he turns the knob and you take him by his lapels and pull him inside.

The door closes with a soft click.

Setting you down upon his berth, he meets you for another kiss before beginning the tedious task of undressing. Even in a hurry, he carefully folds each article, ensuring their safety. When he turns, you’re left bare as well, looking at him through halfmoon eyes.

In his lungs, his breath is caught.

You’re beautiful.

So he says it in word and in the way that he guides you to lay with his body between your spread legs.

You utter his name, cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch while you guide him back down to you. It takes little for him to follow your movements, drawn in like the sweet song of a siren.

He claims you in the kisses peppered over your lips and jaw, dragging down to dip in the hollow of your neck. Beneath him, your pulse jumps and your neck flexes. So he continues, reverent. Pledging loyalty with every brush of his lips against your skin.

Yours, all yours.

Busied with the sensation of him, you relax, offering yourself to his touch. His unbandaged hand travels over the soft planes of your body, cupping breasts and hip, careful as it travels to press fingertips into your thigh. It lingers, so close.

The feel of your hand timid on his chest encourages him to explore the sensitive skin of your inner thigh before finally, finally tracing along your wetted cunt.

“Please—”

His fingers tease, sliding up and down along it, making you shiver beneath him. A sight to behold, one that makes his heart sing and stutter at once. And they draw out a shaky moan when they press into you.

He takes his time in the movement of his fingers, coaxing you with a curve and the dulcet tone of his voice in your ear.

Left with his name on your tongue, your arms wrap around his neck, wanting him closer, closer. He obliges. All you want in this moment is him—impatience running quick.

Kazuha is taken by surprise when you take him into your hand, marveling at the way his hips press closer to your touch.

It’s strange to be touched this way, even with his past experiences. How it feels to be caressed by you so intimately, just the idea of it being you beneath him, touching him, him touching you. He wants more of it. And so he bucks into your hand with hot desire coursing through his veins.

For a while, the two of you delight in each other’s bodies.

When he draws his fingers from your core, he doesn’t bother with the way your slick clings to his skin, replacing your hand around his cock with his own and propping himself up with legs kneeled and hips slotted between yours.

With bated breath you observe as he gazes into your eyes.

Even so smoldered with desire, they’re impossibly clear and gentle, reflecting the very swirl of emotions you feel with every thump of your pulse. Leaning closer, Kazuha brushes his lips to yours, slow.

“You’re trembling—are you cold?”

The room feels fine despite your state of undress, though he continues before you can speak.

“Allow me to warm you up...”

When he finally kisses you deep, his hips press into yours and fill you.

The ship sways, each rock back and fourth amplified with how he holds you close to him, how he whispers sweetly in your ear and describes just how good it feels for you to squeeze around him like that. Once more you’re swept into all he gives you.

Kazuha thrusts, every movement deliciously slow. The brush of his cock against your walls makes your eyes flutter and your lips part with every gasp.

Every sigh draws him in deeper. Slow, fluid.

With the ebb and flow of his movements, you find yourself lost. He is the raging tempest dragging you down to the murky depths yet is the same gentle wind that cools you. You’re lost in the way that he moans your name in your ear and hips barely pull away from yours before burying back deep.

You—spread beneath him with your legs bent to his sides—in the dim light drives him. Kazuha finds that no matter where he looks, how close his body is pressed to yours, it’s never quite enough. Every sigh that’s drawn from your lungs is the voice that calls to him to wander.

He’s mesmerized.

Each push stirs that need in you for more, coming to life in the way that your body arches to meet his. Almost…as if feeling him against you is your lifeline—a deep, unyielding need. The same strange feeling that he knows is coming to life within him. And with how you so sweetly grasp at his shoulders in your hands, he’s certain it is.

His arm slides down, hand flat against your lower back to lift your hips. Eager, you comply. A few strokes of his hips with the delicious drag provided by the new angle, and you cry out in whimpers.

“Right there—please, please-“

Murmuring your name, his lips press to your ear and his hips speed up as he searches for that spot once more. He’s good—feels so so good.

A kiss to your temple accompanies the quick build of the knot deep in your abdomen, pulling taut and teasing your release.

“Where should I touch you?” The croon of his voice calls.

You guide his hand between your writhing bodies, a shock of pleasure jolting when the pad of his finger brushes against where you’re most sensitive. Only moments pass before your vision flickers, body tensing and a choked moan escaping past your ruddied lips.

It’s too much—his careful movements to hit the right spot and the way his fingers trace over your skin and he finds himself lost in the feeling as well. The lingering feeling of your high sends shocks with every movement he gives, both of you left trembling. Shaky hands try to grab at his chest and arm, pulling it away.

He stills, just holding you close.

He can feel it again, the flutter of your pulse, when his lips pepper kisses along your jaw and neck to bring you back to him.

Finally back from your high, Kazuha carefully slides from within you in lieu of laying by your side. You’re still breathing hard when careful movements pull the blanket from the foot of the bed over both of your forms. With an arm draped over your now covered hip, he smiles soft.

The wind howls outside.

"Do you really mean it, Kazuha?”

He lifts his arm so you can turn onto your side, looking up at him with your head on the pillow. It’s cute the way the soft material forms around your cheek. But you’re still waiting for his answer.

The ronin simply places a kiss on your forehead, the warm brush of his lips punctuating his words.

“I will follow you til the day the sun ceases to shine—so long as you are by my side, the wind shall blow and the tides ebb. This shall be my vow to you...”

It isn’t until your expression relaxes, lulled to sleep by his warmth and the gentle rock of the ocean, eyes closed and your breathing even that he speaks once more. It’s quiet, save for the creaking of wood and the faraway shouts of the crew above in their revelry. Here, laying besides you, the feeling within his chest carefully tended to, Kazuha finds a new purpose. A newfound desire.

“…whom I love with a love / deep as the miru-growing ocean.”

#kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fics #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #oh my god this took so long I'm sorry dear anon-#anon asks #this is all for u anon and Kazu simps come and get ya juice sip sip

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powdermelonkeg · 2 years

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I have been reading the theory posts for a while now, and I have to say, I am impressed! Your work on Zelda is really appreciated! I have a few things I want to ask... mainly regarding the avian creatures in the Zelda series. Do you think there's any connection between the Rito and the Fokka from Zelda 2? Or even the Wizzrobes from Wind Waker? (I have seen artwork depicting the wizzrobes from Zelda 1 having a beak instead of a long nose as well, which I find pretty interesting)

Wizzrobes! While it's true that the Fokka do bear some resemblance to BotW's Rito, both in their beaks and their stance—

—as well as seeming related to WW's Rito, based on their lack of wings and tactile dexterity, this is a case of things merely looking related; kind of like how a rabbit and a hare might seem related based on their appearances, but are fundamentally different species.

The main thing I'm going to point to for evidence is what DOESN'T match the Rito; specifically the Fokka's eyes, beak, down, and feet. I'll be leaving timelines out of this due to my timeline conflicting heavily with the canon one.

Firstly, let's look at the eyes.

They're big, sideways-driven, and unfocused.

Now let's look at the Rito and Wizzrobe eyes.

The Rito started off with forward facing eyes, which steadily got narrower and more elegant as they moved further up the face. Meanwhile the Wizzrobes have unfocused Perry-the-Platypus eyes.

As for the beak, the Fokka's beak is flat across the top with a rounded hook, exaggerating its proportions.

In contrast, early Rito all had duck and hawk-like beaks that go far up the face, while later Rito have a greater variety, but still very proportionate and refined facial features. Wizzrobes, on the other hand, have comically large beaks, with, you guessed it, a flat bridge and a hooked end.

As for their down

Look how raggedy it is. It's practically fur. Rito down is so smooth that it barely makes any outline at all.

Now, we don't really have any precedent for Wizzrobe down, due to them being constantly covered by their cloaks. But the fact that it DOESN'T match Rito is more evidence than not.

Then finally, and possibly the most damning evidence, we have the Fokka's feet.

Again, we don't get a clear view of Wind Waker Wizzrobes' feet, but we DO get plenty of view of the Rito's.

Fokka have four toes—three in the front, one in the back, with totally flat feet meant for ground travel (possibly in the absence of wings). Rito, on the other hand, have an entire toe less, along with structure built for perching and grabbing, more like an osprey.

In conclusion: Fokka have too few similar characteristics to be related to Rito. It's like how a shark and a dolphin look kind of similar!

#loz #zelda #ask bee #botw #wind waker #aol #rito #biology #theory

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dad-of-demons · 2 years

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Warframe: The New War Spoilers

Okay, so I finished the newest quest a little bit ago, and I’m putting my thoughts together below. Don’t want spoilers? Don’t read! You’ve been given your due warning.

[[MORE]]

- This’ll sound weird, but I appreciate that in the first act, we fail. We’ve been shown to be such unstoppable war machines, that it was good to see us not succeed. Still hurt though.

- Also, fuck you Ballas.

- My main nitpick for the first and second act is how we are given new characters with new control schemes, and just expected to know how all of it works. It took me 15 minutes of frustration before I figured out I could directly tell my Shield Osprey to target my MOA. (Very thankful my kids were asleep then)

- Apparently Schrodinger’s Operator is a thing! Kind of wish the Zariman became a location we could more frequently access and explore, but oh well? Maybe some time in the future.

- I really like the Drifter, I just wish we had more freedom of cosmetics. At the very least, we should be able to apply the somatics to their facial features, or the related scarring. Make them seem more connected to our Operators.

- So Ordis looks like EVE from WALL-E with a little cloak now. Quite cute, but I wish he was wandering our Orbiter. DE, let me hug the sad Cephalon!

- Getting to choose the form Space Mom takes at the end was an interesting twist. Curious to see what the majority of the community chooses out of the three (of course you can purchase the other options with plat, go figure).

- Ding Dong, the Bitch is Dead! Which old Bitch? The Ballas Bitch!

- Related, is Teshin dead too? Or just MIA? Some clarification would be nice.

- Fortuna feels depressing now, which kind of sucks. I preferred the bright neon aesthetic.

- Aaaaand that’s all I have for now. Overall, I did enjoy the quest! Curious to see what everyone else thought as well!

#warframe #de #digital extremes #the new war #the new war spoilers #spoilers

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pinkcupboardwitch · 3 years

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Livia’s daemon is a black leopard. It becomes a byword in Rome: the tall woman in her homespun stola, quietly supervising her slave- and freedwomen in the weaving rooms, while the massive black cat reclines at her feet. She thinks sometimes it would have been easier had he settled as an actual cat. That would have been more fitting for the role of dutiful Roman matron she’s established for herself. Leopards are for generals - for emperors.

The difference, she surmises, is that when you cross a cat you get scratched or bitten. Cross a leopard, and you die.

Her daemon settles the day she learns her father committed suicide in the aftermath of Philippi.

Antigone’s daemon is a small grey moth. He often nestles in a fold of her robe or cloak, and really only comes out to speak with Livia or Tycho. Tycho once commented a little bitterly that from the way both moth and Antigone hover around Livia, you’d think she was a flame rather than a mortal woman.

He settles one day not long after Livia had brought her home from Balbina’s. Antigone had risen early, crept through the sleeping house to the kitchen to fetch her own breakfast, smiled down at the two fresh, perfect plums the quiet Egyptian youth - Tycho, she’d only learned his name yesterday - had slipped into her place. Munching on the plums, she sits beneath a low tree in the courtyard, enjoying the faint morning mist, the dawning warmth. The two realizations come almost at the same moment: the sudden awareness of fluttering, dust-covered, right wings at her cheek, and the memory of sleeping, for the first time, the night through without dreams.

Augustus’s daemon is, both shockingly and unsurprisingly, an eagle. Shocking because the contrast between his sickly frame and powerful daemon take even the most jaded observer aback. Unsurprising because, after all, what could be more natural than that the princeps of Rome should carry an eagle at his shoulder? No one realizes that it’s the other way around. From the age of nineteen, Gaius made himself consciously into Rome, and scoured his soul of everything that did not serve that.

His daemon settled somewhere on the road between Apollonia and Rome, when they were hurrying back after Caesar’s assassination. He told himself he was still debating whether or not to accept his uncle’s bequest of his fortune and name. Then he looked up at the eagle grown suddenly motionless - at Apollonia she’d been a lioness, a lanky she-wolf, an osprey in imitation of Marcus’s flashy hunter - and knew his soul had already decided.

Agrippa has an osprey daemon: a fast, adaptable bird that thrives in a niche few other raptors can match. Ospreys can soar up to six hundred feet, but most of the time they’re content to fly far lower, just above or even briefly below the water’s surface.

She settles when they’re still relatively young: during the first campaign in Spain where they accompanied Caesar and the young Octavian, when Agrippa killed in war for the first time. He knew in that moment who he was and who he would become in life. There’s a reason he’s so scornful of Marcellus, who reaches nineteen and comes back from war with his daemon still unsettled.

Tycho has a hare: a survivor, like himself, and not a natural killer. Octavia has a wood dove, fitting for the kind of loyalty that can raise an army for an absent husband and then take in four of his orphaned children as her own. Marcella has a swan: a big gorgeous bird that hisses all day and will not hesitate to smack a bitch. Scribonia has an inky, restless skink; he’s often mistaken for a snake until one looks closely. Both Julia and Iullus still have unsettled daemons as the series closes, though more and more Julia feels like there’s something right in the various glittering snakes that coil around her neck and flick out to whisper in Iullus’s ear. Transformation. She shivers. She knows she’s on the edge of transformation. To shed a skin, to change, and still to remain oneself.

#domina sky #daemon au #livia drusilla #Antigone domina #Augustus Caesar #marcus vipsanius agrippa #pink creates #pink writes

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