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noonmutter · 6 years

Text

Confrontation

Captain Sirenspawn set down the incident reports as Terry eased himself into the chair on the other side of his desk. The conscript was getting very good at staring at the wall over Sirenspawn's shoulder, rather than making eye contact. It would be more impressive if it wasn't the result of how often he got into... weird shit. "So...you're in my office again. Why are you in my office again, private?"

Terry sighed. “I don’t spose I could just say ‘th’ sergeant with us was a moron’ an’ leave it at tha’?”

“Apropos though it might turn out to be, no, that would not be sufficient.”

“Right, then. ‘Ere’s what I told th’ last officer…”

Holland was the first to report back, shouting, "Sarge, we got a few prisoners over here in this hut!" over the uncomfortable silence that always settled in after a skirmish.

"That's good news. There's still a bonus for rescuing Alliance prisoners. Juicier when they’re alive. Get them untied and ready to go back to the base camp."

"Two sacrifices in here, sir. One troll, one dwarf. Unconscious, but they're both alive."

The sergeant’s lip twitched up in disgust. "Pull the dwarf out."

"... And the troll, sir?

"Only good troll is a dead troll, Private."

The grunt stared for a few moments, then ducked his head and stepped back into the hut. "Sir."

"Got another one here, sir! Troll kid!" That had been Wolf. Terry liked Wolf. Bit timid, but dependable when it mattered. The unit only called him ‘Wolf’ because he was dependable (and kind of brutal in that way you only saw from the timid ones)--otherwise, it would’ve been ‘Pup’, as in the kind one would kick.

"Noted."

Terry's head snapped around so fast it was amazing there wasn't an audible crack.

Looking right at Terry, Wolf said, "Uh, I'll go get Brother Barnes."

"What did I just say, Barton?" The sergeant must’ve been really pissed; he’d actually gotten off his fat arse to poke Wolf in the chest with a stubby finger.

"But--sir, it's just a baby. Barely a toddler!"

That did it. Terry stalked over and muscled past his fellow grunt, and Wolf stepped in--with some reluctance--to bar the doorway once he’d passed. Dependable.

Sure enough, there was a troll child there in the center of a sacrifice circle: sallow green skin, matted golden hair, the barest hint of future tusks, and glowing blue eyes glaring at the sky as he gritted his teeth and silently bore the pain from the wounds on his side and neck that were slowly draining him. He had slightly displaced scars, as well; they had been draining him off and on for a while. Without someone to stitch him up, though, he would surely die. Yanking bandages from his pack, Terry set to work, ignoring the shouting that rose up behind him.

The boy finally relented in his staring contest with a star to look at Terry, and his entire demeanor changed. The smile was alien, but struck Terry as oddly familiar. It gave the boy an expression of almost delirious giddiness despite his exhaustion.

He was trying to speak, but Terry, knowing he didn’t have a strong enough grasp of any troll dialects to understand him, focused on the bandages in his hands. Even if he hadn’t made that choice, Wolf’s frantic hiss of "Ambroce, what the hell, man?" as he struggled to hold the others back was louder than the kid’s strained whispering anyway.

"Let 'em shit bricks over it, I don't care. Gods forbid an Alliance soldier saves a life."

It was pure relief when Terry heard Brother Barnes shouting outside, and the shouting continued as the cleric squeezed past Wolf and into the hut. "Then I'll be fuckin' court martialed and sent back to the Stockade, but it won't be because I did anything wrong! Honestly, what kind of absolute bast..."

He trailed off upon seeing the troll, then cursed under his breath. “Outta the way, Ambroce." Barnes shoved Terry roughly aside, but the child started to panic almost immediately, giving the healer pause. After a second’s deliberation, he grabbed Terry by the shoulder, forcing him to sit back down before he’d finished standing up. (Terry would never cease to be impressed by just how strong Brother Barnes was.) "Nevermind, stay. Hold his hand. Keep him calm. And don’t help.”

A few minutes later, after the troll boy had fallen asleep, Terry emerged with a wrenched finger--the kid was also surprisingly strong--and boiling blood. The only one who didn’t have the sense to stand aside was his target: The sergeant. Instead, the pompous ass was shouting something Terry didn’t bother listening to as he reeled back and punched him full in the mouth, screaming, "YOU WERE GONNA LET A BABY DIE YOU RATFACED FUCK!"

Wolf, always one to avoid a fight, tried to hold Terry back after the first punch was thrown. Fate chose a different path, starting about ten feet behind the pair and following Holland’s boots to land a flying kick square in the sergeant’s gut.

Silence reigned in the captain’s office as the story concluded. Terry shifted awkwardly, and his eyes--which hadn’t moved once for the entire report--finally began to wander, flicking toward Sirenspawn’s face and back to the spot over his shoulder over and over again.

Lamely, Terry offered, “I only meant t’hit ‘im. It kinda snowballed from there.”

Sirenspawn raised a hand to cover his mouth, closing his eyes. Terry wasn’t sure whether he was furious or concealing a smile. Night elf hands were too damned big, and Sirenspawn’s eyes had wrinkles at the corners no matter what expression he wore.

Letting him stew for just a bit longer, Sirenspawn finally raised a hand before Terry was able to break the silence again. “One last question, private.” His eyes opened, locking onto Terry’s with the kind of intensity Terry found in himself right before pulling the trigger. The comparison did not help settle his nerves.

“Were you aware of the boy’s identity?”

Terry’s brow furrowed and his initial answer was only a puzzled frown. “Identity, sir?”

“When you, Private Ambroce, made the decision to incite a mutiny against and strike your commanding officer, were you aware that this child was a whelp of the Bronze Dragonflight?”

The silence filled the room immediately and threatened to seep through the walls and consume the entire Alliance camp before Terry even inhaled. Confusion gave way to horrified realization after a few seconds, and he’d gone visibly whiter by the time he remembered he needed to answer.

“...No. N-no. Sir. No, I did not know tha’. I… Is ‘e-- Did ‘e tell you ‘is n--”

“Praecormu. He seemed uncertain whether his surname was Lias, Ambroce, or null.”

“I-I-I need t’--” Whatever he needed to be doing, Terry was already up and moving toward the doorway.

Sirenspawn made no attempt to stop him, instead standing aside and gesturing toward the door with one gloved hand. “I rather thought so. Dismissed.”

Terry fled the office like a beast was snapping at his heels, headed for the medical tents. The MPs flanking the office doorway, startled, began to raise their rifles, but the captain stepped out and cleared his throat. Both MPs snapped to attention and cracked off a salute so sharp it could cut glass.

“Bring Sergeant Rutherford to my office, constables. I believe I have further questions regarding the veracity of his own reports. And my boots seem to be in dire need of a few new scuff marks.”

( @shedwyn )

#and so arrives terry #enough is enough #even for him #my writing #collab #his relationship with praecormu is complicated #is a baby dragon a really smart pet or a funny-shaped family member?#and then it shapeshifts too and that makes it even more confusing...#the light in lordaeron

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trans-shuichisaihara · 6 years

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Constellations for the one word prompt

26. Constellations - saimota

Shuichi's birthday party was quieter than he expected.

With friends like Momota and Akamatsu, he'd expected them to go all out, inviting the entire class as well as their senpai, but at the end of the day, only the handful of people that Shuichi regularly interacted with were invited, and all of them attended, helping out with it in their own way.

Shuichi didn't like loud events, so it put his mind at ease to know that it wasn't going to get any louder than Momota and Ouma's bickering, which was so common that it was easily blocked out.

Still, his best friends left their mark on his party, from the rather obvious space-related decorations flug about (likely pulled out of Momota's closet last minute, leftover from his own birthday party months before) and the music playing being entirely instrumental (with a heavy preference for piano). But if that was the worst of it, he wouldn't complain any day.

Especially since Kirigiri's addition to his party was to promptly hand over a case file and jump into discussing work. He had the impression that she hadn't been to a birthday party other than the ones thrown by her own classmates.

Regardless of how small and personal it was, and how much he enjoyed it, he was still glad when they all filtered out. Birthdays were exhausting enough, and picking up any missed mess in his room would likely consume the rest of his night.

But, before he could nitpick about someone shifting his notebooks to a different place or reorganizing his desk that had been used to hold the small but messy cake, Momota returned, a backpack flung over his shoulder.

"Alright, time for the second half of your party," he greeted, a soft smile on his lips. His voice, while enthusiastic, wasn't booming, making it seem less like he was being ordered to come along.

So, he argued against it. "I really would rather just stay in and cool down, Momota-kun." He lightly scratched at his arm, apologetically staring at the floor. "Too much socialization is tiring, I'm sorry."

Momota paused for a moment. "Even if I said it was just gonna be the two of us? We don't gotta talk if you don't wanna, but... Well, it's supposed to be a really clear night." He scratched the back of his head, smile almost sheepish now.

Shuichi felt a smile tugging at his own face as well; of course it would be stargazing, what did he expect? And how could he refuse, when Momota eyes were sparkling with excitement? "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt..." He glanced at the messes he intended to clean up, and promptly thought ‘screw it.’ It wasn't going anywhere.

He let him drag him out to the location he picked for the night, wringing his hands nervously when Momota refused to let him carry anything or help with spreading out the blankets. The only thing he was allowed to do was relax, according to him. Of course, being ordered to relax was more stressful than being allowed to stress, but he knew Momota was just trying to help.

Still, it really was a clear night, and he soon found the tension leaving his body naturally as they looked up at the stars, a comfortable silence between them. But since this was Momota, the silence wouldn't last long, and he soon sat back up and pulled the bag he'd brought closer to them.

"So, I, uh, I got you a present," he began with uncharacteristic hesitation, unzipping the bag as he spoke.

"Oh?" Shuichi sat up, curious. "Another one?" He'd handed the detective some spiral-bound notebooks at the party, their covers predictably galaxy patterned.

Momota coughed. "Hey, c'mon, did you seriously think that was a real present? Do I look like the kinda guy that picks out a present that looks like it was just regifted from my own collection or something?"

... Well, he did, but Shuichi wasn't going to point that out. "So, what did you really get me then?"

With a nervous smile, he handed Shuichi a carefully wrapped box. "Go ahead, open it. I, well, I really hope you like it." He was acting pretty strangely over a present.

Regardless, he accepted it, and with a soft frown he curiously and cautiously tore off the paper, before opening the plain box it covered. He then paused, hesitating before lifting up the navy blue jacket inside. It was immediately clear that it was designed after the one Momota always wore, right down to the galaxy patterns on the inside.

After a few long seconds, Momota spoke, clearly unable to stand the quiet observation going on. "Sooo... Whaddya think?"

"Well, um, it's... nice?" He folded it up in his lap. "Why this though?"

He frowned, scratching the back of his head. "Well, you're my sidekick, so I thought it'd be nice to match... I mean, it's not an exact copy of my galactic jacket; Shirogane helped me out with it, and she had her own vision and all that. Still, you know..."

It was obvious he was looking for a positive reaction from Shuichi. And he wanted to give one to him, but he also wanted it to be genuine. So, he examined the jacket again, spreading it out on the blanket they sat on to pick apart the differences.

The first one was obvious: the color. That had been the first thing he noticed, after all. But now that he was looking at it again, he noticed the inside wasn't just a flat pattern. "Is this a constellation?" He asked, tracing the stitched-in lines that clearly were added on by hand.

He perked up. "Yeah! You're a Virgo, so I thought it'd be cool to have that on there." He pointed to the connected lines on the right of the jacket's interior, before dragging his finger over to the one Shuichi was tracing. "And, well, Shirogane said to add Libra, because it's, uh, something related to justice and detectives I guess?" He shrugged, giving Shuichi a small grin. "They're next to each other in the night sky, so I thought it'd be alright."

Shuichi paused, quietly admiring the surprisingly well-thought-out present for a few more moment before finally putting it on. It was unexpectedly soft, and most importantly warm. It made him feel safe, like being enveloped in a hug. "Thank you, Kaito, I like it a lot." His given name slipped out naturally, the simple word sending his heart fluttering from the newness.

Under the pale moonlight it was hard to tell, but he almost thought that his cheeks went a bit pink too.

#saimota #shuichi saihara #kaito momota #drv3 #ndrv3 #my post #fanfic #god i love these boys sm #i don't write enough saimota and it's a shame hdskjhs

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darkdevasofdestruction · 6 years

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Connor Kenway x Angel!Fem!Reader

At the beginning of times,God created Heaven,and with it,his most trusty Archangels,with the aim of helping him pursue utopia and bliss for the incoming races on his beloved Earth,and thus,these divine winged beings,with the righteous will and judgement,obeyed their Lord's every command,without questioning it.

Centuries passed,humanity fell out of its grace,but He was merciful and loving,and offered them a change of redemption,in the after-life,and with every pure-hearted believer who would pass away,a new bright soul would ascend to the Garden of Heavens,be judged,and so they were entrusted with the smaller tasks,being named Angels.

These obedient followers with never-ending energy all seemed to fall into the same pattern,until one faithful day,when one surprisingly stood out of the crowd for being...different. Instead of minding her own business,perfecting her abilities in hopes of going up in ranks,as was the others' ambition,she wanted to do something more,something that would actually bring her joy is such a dull place bound by unbreakable laws,so she decided to perfect her art of manipulation of the weak or the soft-spoken,or even better,jest about unspeakable acts worth censoring in such a conservative place.

God,seeing her behaviour,decided to both teach her a lesson and grant her the wish,and thus,she was reincarnated in the Medieval times,as a fire-kissed maiden with loving yet difficult parents,at a court where she was meant to become the Handmaiden of the Castle's little lady. The girl was not satisfied with only an ordinary mortal life and started acting on her own accord,studying how to become a Maester,wanting to travel the world and see all that Earth has to offer.

Years passed and our little lady became a grown woman,at the ripe age of marriage,yet mischievous and ambitious beyond her times,and decided to inform her loved ones of her on-coming trip to the nearest kingdom,in pursue of knowledge,which wasn't well-seen.Nevertheless,there was nobody in power to stop the sly vixen as she began to walk the path of maturity.

Upon her return,her parents welcomed her warmly,but it was fleeting,as they had to have her know of the potential suitor awaiting her fateful return. She protested,not wanting to bother with such trivial and insignificant follies such as 'love' and 'family' and opposed to any explanation,turning the Fool down. Little did she know that day was her last day of human happiness,as a streak of misfortunes awaited her,for a wicked witch helped the Fool charm our Maiden with a love potion,the most powerful one to be created,and so the Minstrel had her grasped in his predator claws. She didn't seem to understand much of the situation,having had no previous experience with this concerning emotion,but decided to act as natural as possible,trying to make her paramour happy with everything in her power. All seemed to go well,for most of the part,until her day of birth came once again,and sticking to the tradition,invited all her friends,also servants to the House she was serving,and a newer apparition,her beloved. They drank ale,shared hilarious tales,sang with the bards and danced together,until dusk hit and they had to return home. The girl,once again,was happy...Until her one and only spun her around,yelling at her with malice,words dripping with venom and jealousy spewing from his filthy mouth,frightening and rooting her to the spot. Has she done something wrong?

Was there anything offensive in her behaviour?

Did she insult him,perchance?

Countless of questions seemed to rang through her head as she felt the symbol of weakness,a river of tears,streaming down her pale cheeks,whilst trembling and trying to come up with a reply to the monster in front of her. She left him there without anything spoken on her part,but a breakdown in her private chambers,as she tried to understand the reasoning behind such aggressive attitude towards her.

She believed that everyone deserved a second chance...and a third...and maybe even a fourth one,possible mistake learnt from Heavens,and forgiving the man,despite her mind telling her it was wrong,she stuck by his side for more moons than she could have ever imagined.

In the meantime,the glowing blood rose started to wilt at an alarming pace,faced with unneeded toxicity and bad treatment,and with it,she began hating herself more than ever before,understanding for the first time just how weak a woman is on Earth,compared to a lustful man's strength,and as she couldn't counter or stop his actions,despite protesting vehemently... She gave up.

For the first time in her life,she felt like giving up was the wisest option there was. Give up on fighting. Give up on protesting. Give up on happiness. Give up on thinking she was worth anything. Give up on believing love and genuine emotions exist. And... She gave up on herself.

Everything fell into the same dull pattern,until one day,she was slapped awake by her ambitions,and remember that even whilst hating herself,she still wanted her life to take a different turn and her career was still more important than anything on that tainted World. And so,the red-haired girl managed to gather the strength to break the charm all by herself,and got the Fool banished from the Kingdom,never to be seen again,much to her relief. Nevertheless,regrets and despair would forever haunt her,despising how frail and weak she was,uncharacteristic of her normal self,as she endured almost two full winters turned with a parasyte leeching on her positive energies,just as mistletoe,beautiful yet deadly,is destroying another plant for it to live better.

Not much time passed,wounds slowly getting stitched together with the help of her closest friends and family,and with that,a new trip was planned for her as a surprise,and she took the opportunity without any doubt,eager to absorb even more information.

The people around her were all open-minded,wise elders and shamans willing to show her the way of healing and how to become one with nature and accept herself. Contrary to her expectations,however,no matter what you do,curses and bad intentions follow everyone around,and when one of the travelers began fighting with his ill,miserable parents,wanting to stay behind and explore just a bit more,she decided to step in and offer him company on the small island,despite twilight threatening to appear soon. Feeling blessed,his parents thanked her endlessly,while the lovely elder witch doctor advised her not to stray too much from the path,and she went to his side,weary and skeptical,wanting to go to her temporary home faster.

It was just like how a panther waits its prey,prowling around,vulnerable and clueless of any evil intent around,using the environment to its,favour,and seeing her shivering due to the cold night,he wrapped his meaty arms around her small form,despite her protests. She soon found out the rotten apple was 10 years her senior and much stronger than he appeared,conflicts forming in her head,as she was not familiar with the path back,like he was,yet struggling in his grasp helped naught. And she gave up fighting. Again.

Hours passed,midnight stroke and Mother Moon was high on the sky,illuminating the place gracefully with her pure,silvery light,watching over the sinful,as on their way back,he gripped her noodle-like arms hard and forced himself onto her,the feeling of teeth smashing into her own and the disgust,making her want to have a star fall on her at that moment and crush her to death forever. No amount of struggle proved to be successful,but she cried no more.She just followed behind,at a fast pace,wanting to arrive at her new chambers faster and bury herself under the ground,feeling a strong,burning feeling of hatred towards herself and that shameful monster claiming to be human. Alone,once again,she began breaking down,yelling at Heavens and at the Lord to take her back or stop her suffering once and for all. Just what had she done so wrong in her life that she deserved all of this? Was her behaviour in Eden so bad? Was entertainment forbidden and punished like the Never-ending 7 Circles of Hell? Desperation was clouding her mind and judgement,and she soon accepted that she was not meant for a normal human life. Being forever by herself seemed to be a much better option regardless,and thus,a life of solitude and eternal hate awaited her. She began behaving worse than she realized,not talking to her friends that much anymore,not bothering with her difficult family who seemed to only want to apply even more unwanted pressure about how she is going to be the outcast and the laughingstock of the whole Country and she wouldn't behave like a normal woman,marry and bare the lordling's children,as it was expected.

She wanted to end it all,for it was too much pain to hold on to,her heart feeling heavy with over-flowing waves of torment,her lungs felt drowned,no amount of breathing seemed to make her feel alive anymore and she began wondering how lovely death seemed now,that all hope was lost for an unsightly creature like her. If she couldn't accept herself,why would anyone else bother with her eternal damnation and suffer along-side her,carrying her problems? Nobody deserves such a pitiful fate,so better end it all before any more misfortune starts stalking her.

For the rest of the year she kept her stoic facade,devoid of any emotion or compassion,only allowing herself to crumble the sturdy walls around her when alone,with only the shadows threatening to consume her.

~But miracles do actually happen,even to the less fortune of souls~

Seeing how much sadness he brought to the one pure soul he created,now tainted by Humanity's malice,He felt pity,and allowed a private parley between them. She would be able to became and angel and join the ranks once again,if only she can successfully finish a mission,one that required guiding another unfortunate soul to the light,one from a modern time of War between states.

The first step,now that she was back to her celestial self,was to observe the person and see if he truly was worthy of redemption. Flying on a cloud,she propped herself comfortable,at the first hour of the day,before the Sun even got the chance appear on the sky,watching the Native American’s life and memories,and with it,the familiar feeling of sorrow settled itself into her heart,and looking down at him,she was shocked to see him kneeling on the ground,his head on the ground,sobbing and cursing at the wind for his bad luck,yet praying with all his might to any existing deity that might give him a sign to keep on going...a reason to live. His mother dead,his father killed by himself,his mentor having died,and his many loved ones,away... Maybe,just maybe,despite everything he had lost,even himself....mayhap there is still something worth fighting for.

She remained stunned,gazing at him with pity,her dark eyes,like the infinite void,sparkling with interest and other unknown emotions towards this complete stranger ; he looked up,his kind chocolate eyes glistening with tears of hopelessness,until he widened his orbs,and much to her surprise,his gaze bore into hers.

So much time she spent observing him from up there,that she didn't realize the sunshine was bright enough to make her glow,having her position discovered. Scared,she fled back to Heaven,and contemplated her next move. Frankly,she wanted nothing to do with that pitiful assassin,for he too was in the same desperate situation she was in... On the other hand,however,there was something that made her think of him with no end.

The look in his dark eyes that held warmth,like when you go home after a cold winter night.They are hazelnuts and gingerbread men,hot cocoa and cinnamon,they are the comfort and warmth when you wrap yourself in a blanket and stay reading in front of a fireplace,drinking a hot beverage with extra honey,and outside it's freezing and snowing.

His eyes...The dark coloured eyes that she held herself as well,and she despised,she fell in love with.

His eyes...The one colour she hated most,and wished for any other one,she found genuinely mesmerizing and enchanting.

His eyes...So deep and caring,carrying a heavy burden of sorrow and pain.

His eyes...The ones she grew to love with all her heart.

His eyes...Him...The pitiful knight is shining armour that stood there,still hoping and searching for happiness,not having given up yet. He was strong,stronger than anyone she had ever met,either in her angel or human form,and she felt genuinely attracted,without wanting to. In truth,she was scared. Scared of what might happen if she lost him. She wanted nothing more than to make sure he did not suffer the same fate she did,made sure to use the small amount of magic she held,to make him smile for the first time in ages. Be it a lovely playful kitten,or a travelling crystal butterfly,a picturesque sunshine or a magnificent flower,she did it all for him.

That is,until one Archangel began to notice and expressed his displeasure towards her ridiculous behaviour,which only seemed to irk her to the point where she walked up to God himself,to request one last wish,before she would disappear.It was rather selfish and uncertain,but the Lord only smiled down at his little angel,patted her head and sent her down on Earth at the next sunrise,descending to Earth with a divine and elegant glow that would put even Mother Moon to shame.

In front of her,kneeling and staring up at her in wonder,he tried to make words come out of his mouth,but his chipped lips only seemed to form stutters,as he bit on the lower one,trying to stop himself from letting more tears stream down his chocolate-coloured cheeks.

She remained silent,knowing words would betray her,and smiled gently at him,touching his rough face with her pale,delicate hand,and seeing him lean into her warm touch with such glee in his eyes,much like a pitiful puppy who found a new owner,made her look away,suddenly feeling timid and a rosy blush threatening to cover her angelic features. She knelt to his level,her white wings fluttering,and putting her hands together,she made a small snowdrop form,letting him witness the beauty of nature by letting him have it,as a sign of purity and innocence.

Touched to tears by her kind gestures,he felt himself hug her tightly to his chest,not wanting to let her go anymore. He finally found the sign he was looking for and he was willing to brave anything is his path to make sure his Angel remained by his side,happy. He started planting soft kisses all over hear rosy face,forehead and fire-kissed hair,her angelic giggles becoming lullabies to his ears. His own face became redder than any Red Lily he had ever encountered thus far,and seeing this,she felt herself grin at him and kissed his forehead,as he kept radiating with happiness.

"I choose to throw away my immortality and powers,strip away my wings and ranks,only to be by your side,for as long as Earth will have us.Will you accept me,my darling brave warrior of justice?" she said with a playful grin and she cupped his mesmerised face,that held only love and wonder. "I can only thank Thee,Mother Moon,for sending your most beautiful and compassionate of daughters down here,to me.I vow to protect you,my sweet Cherokee rose,with every fiber of my being,no matter what dangers might occur." Connor vowed,placing his own hands over hers and gazing into her shiny eyes,overflowing with emotion. "Then,my sweet assassin,protector of righteousness,prithee,take care of me and teach me what love is,for I have faced so many misfortunes,I lost count,and let us seal this promise with a kiss" saying that,she looked down,allowing herself a moment of timidness,then leaned in,placing her lips over his,kissing him softly,as she felt his hands shaking just the littlest bit,getting the courage to reciprocate just as gently,almost afraid to break her,as if she was just a lovely mirage and he was actually on the verge of dying.

"I am yours,and you are mine,I swear it by any Gods existing on this World,and I never intend to let go of my beautiful butterfly.Thou art the greatest gift humanity could ever receive." managing to smile,bright and genuine,for the first time in his life,he kissed the firey girl,watching her immaculate white wings slowly dissipate into thin air,then embraced her,playing with her hair,kissing it,vowing to himself to become a better man and make her the happiest person walking the Earth. And so what seemed to be the tragic story of two different people from two parallel worlds proved to be the emotional reunion of two soulmates looking for each other,and only seeing the black,white and greys of life,until discovering the light at the end of the tunnel,and with it,a vivid palette of unlimited colours.

#Assassin's Creed #assassins #creed #connor kenway #connor #kenway #Ratonhnhaké:ton #love #story #angel #AU #medieval #times #imagine #assassins creed imagine #tragic #fluff #angst #angel au

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greenroverman · 6 years

Text

Needs A Title...

The sound of chewing snapped me out of this incredible dream I was having about a redhead in a convertible, a glossy red Ferrari with camel leather interior and custom chrome wheels with the high performance, low-profile tires. I just wanted to drive it around the block four or five times and see what it could do, maybe hit the open road and really open it up. In my dream, I was just about to ask the redhead to scooch on over and then sit in the driver’s seat when I heard the loud gnashing sound. I could feel tingling and moisture on my arm, sharp teeth were tearing into my hand. Surprisingly, I couldn’t feel pain – I guess that’s the first stage of shock. I believe shock is appropriate when being chewed on by a very upset chipmunk. It serves me right for falling dead asleep in that old sagging oak tree in the middle of nowhere. The most important question I had at that time was not: what was a pissed off rodent doing snacking on my arm, but where were my pants?

Pants are strangely important when lost in the middle of nowhere. My keys, wallet, and a fancy pistol that I took from an exotic dancer named Mercedes were also missing. I’m hoping they were together, waiting for me, maybe huddled together. After kindly removing my bloody appendage from the chipmunk’s mouth, and scolding the little rat for taking advantage of a passed out traveler, I sat up and looked around. The tree was the same, but last time I checked Earth had a blue sky, not green, and we only had one moon not five. I think this situation might bump the pants down to priority two. The air smelled like rotten garbage mixed with old motor oil. The green sky was surprisingly clear and the five moons shone bright, lighting up the vast emptiness surrounding me. I’ve got an oak tree, a chipmunk, and no pants – what was in that last cocktail? This is either an incredibly vivid trip or the most elaborate hoax I’ve ever seen. I guess a distant third choice was that I wound up on some alien planet after having the most insane night ever. I think I’m going to have a flashback here…

Things had started normal enough: dinner at Jimmy’s Fine Italian dining with my buddy Sal, then out to Bubble’s club on the west side – where there was this amazing act involving a…chipmunk! I knew I had seen that little guy before – he does good work! From there I was just a passenger in Ms. Cheeky LaPoosh’s limo. Cheeky kept plying me with social lubricant to get me to talk about what I do for a living, but why would Cheeky be interested in a trauma monkey like me. I told her I worked the late shift at the Emergency Center on the south side, the one in the neighborhood where gunshot wounds were passed out like popsicles on a summer day at kid’s camp. My job as a surgeon was a lot like an Asian kid in a Nike sweatshop – keep on sewing and keep the stitching tight. I suppose I was getting good at it – made employee of the month in June. But that was all she was getting out of me, at least at that moment.

The limo stopped at a place called Flush and we all stumbled out. The bouncer recognized Cheeky and hurried us to a private booth in the back. And that’s when thing got interesting: a bottle of some unrecognizable liquid and 3-4 bags filled with an assorted rainbow of pills. I wasn’t the type to participate – I usually just watched and waited for someone to pass out, knowing first aid would be needed. I’m not sure if something fell into my drink or if it was deliberate, but I think I swallowed a green and a red, and maybe a blue. I do know that the room was spinning and I was either on the floor or the ceiling. I finally woke up in the back of the limo with Cheeky and Sal and 4-5 other people I didn’t recognize. A deep conversation about some pop psychology drivel was forming, something about hand washing and moral purity. The theory presented by the pleather couch brigade was that people who wash their hands frequently were more likely to be upstanding humans. Based on the amount of pills and alcohol consumed, this brood had certainly never washed their hands in their lives. But honestly, I couldn’t hear details over the roar of the freight train running through my head. Someone handed me a bottle of something and I drained it – thankfully it was only water. I leaned my head back against the window and closed my eyes.

I was startled awake by a gunshot and a scream, the smell of gunpowder was close so “we” must’ve done the shooting. Of course, the sound of the scream was also close, so “we” must’ve been shot! One of the girls with us, a delightful stripper stereotypically named after a luxury automobile, Mercedes had shot Sal in the leg for having inappropriate body boundaries, which is normally appropriate, but there may or may not have been a transaction or barter. Can’t say I blame her either way. But eight years as a trauma surgery in the nastiest hospital in the metro-area had prepared me for this moment. I doused the wound with a half-bottle of Vodka then used the ice cube grabber to dig into the wound to remove the bullet. My tie made a decent tourniquet and then my Armani shirt became a compress. Did you know that Armani uses a specific type of wool found only in one particular area of Italy known for its high-absorbance properties – in fact after a rain, the sheep usually can’t move because of the amount of rain they soaked up. Crisis averted, I took away the gun from Mercedes and stuffed it in my suit coat pocket – why did she need a .40 S&W pistol with custom grips, easy-pull trigger, and 16-round high-capacity magazine? I suppose there are those out there that would question why I wouldn’t need one. Although, the thought occurred to me that we do live in a rather violent time in a violent city with creepy guys like Sal around.

Sal was a little worn out at this point, wanting to go home. We dropped Sal off at his place, it was a dump – walking in you would think that the place was tossed by thieves looking for something, but no, Sal was just a slob. I made sure he was tucked in bed with some pain killers and the roaches. I figure I would check up on him tomorrow on the way to work. I glanced at the clock on the microwave while walking out the door, it screamed 3 A.M., plenty of night left.

I decided to hitch a ride back to my car with Cheeky. I had parked in a dimly light space on the second floor of the hospital parking garage. Cheeky invited me back to her place for a night cap. I figured it would be prudent to turn it down at this point and head home – plus after witnessing the shooting of my best friend, and the strange mixture of whatever I had taken earlier, I figured that would be the safest place for me.

Unlocking the door of my midnight black Mercedes-Benz AMG coupe, I sat in the plush leather sport seat for a moment to catch my breath. I had expected a simple dinner and maybe a few drinks, instead I wound up hanging out with a stripper queen named Cheeky, a gun wielding psycho, and had one hell of a headache. Time to go home, take some Tylenol, (yes, Doctors really recommend it) and go to bed!

I backed out of my space carefully. Despite my foibles, I was a fairly cautious driver, mostly. I cruised down the spiral to the garage exit. The road was empty, so I gave it a blast with my right foot. The twin turbo V-8 engine with excessive horses roared to life and left a decent strip of tire and smoke in my wake. The ridiculous zero-to-sixty time passed smoothly and the speedometer told me I hit 100 mph in around 6 seconds.

Yellow lines blurred into a paste smeared behind me as I cruised on the highway. I decided to take the long winding road, the path I rarely travelled. I had the speedo pegged at about 110 mph when a deer bound out into the middle of the road. Hitting anything at that speed is like running full speed into a brick wall – it’s going to hurt and something will break.

Blood splattered the windshield. I went off the road straight into a tree. I heard the bang, slam, and smelled the acrid smoke pouring out of the engine compartment. Hollywood would lead us to believe that the car would burst into flames at this point and then explode into a three-story fireball. Fortunately, fireballs don’t happen most of the time. The Mercedes was a crumpled mess. I survived, thank God for air bags, and opened the door – good engineering required that the door still be able to open in a catastrophic accident. The deer was in the middle of the road, writhing in pain.

I never shot anything before, but the poor bastard didn’t deserve to go out like this – suffering from grievous wounds. The .40 S&W was a powerful, highly accurate round – the bullet caught the deer just below the eye socket, leaving a small entry wound but the back of its skull was blown out onto the asphalt. I figure that was the most decent thing I’ve ever done in my life.

This is the point where I get a little fuzzy. I was standing there shaking from the crash and from putting the deer down and I remember a bright light. I heard a ringing in my ears and a loud sound like a bomb exploding – and no, it wasn’t the Mercedes exploding into a Bay-esque fireball, I checked.

And that’s when I woke up to being a chipmunk snack.

The green sky and the smell of the air had a disconcerting effect on my fragile mind. I had one weird night, but this was over the top. Where were my pants? I don’t swear much, but I feel that this circumstance warrants it. So I looked at the beautiful five moon sky and let out a stream of obscenities that would make a trucker blush.

Bearings. I needed to get my bearings. I was standing in a field next to an oak tree. The chipmunk was a sleep – maybe he was dead – I could only hope! I stretched my legs, after a nasty car crash you would think that I would start to feel sore or cramp up. I surprisingly felt…alive, like I could run, jump, or wrestle an angry chipmunk.

Scanning the horizon, I saw a glimmering object about 30 feet away, hoping it was my pants, I walked towards it. It wasn’t my pants, but the gun. I worked the action and checked the magazine like I’ve seen in the movies; I knew I had at least 2 bullets. I would imagine that having a loaded weapon in a strange world would have a calming effect, but I felt scared. Where was I? What would I face? How do I get home?

I decided to keep walking in the direction I found the gun, maybe my pants were close as well. In front of me was a dense forest of blue pine trees – not blue spruce, but actual blue pines. Was I in a Dr. Suess book? The important thing to note is that they smelled like pine trees, that sweet sappy smell that I love. I closed my eyes and breathed and it was as if I was at home in my backyard. I lived on 20 acres in the woods – I might be a highly-skilled medical doctor, but I was a country boy at heart. Pine has a calming effect on my spirit.

Venturing into the woods further, I crossed a creek that ran with green water. Flowing over rocks and around sand bars, I figured it was safe to drink, even if it seemed to have a high algae content, at least that’s what I figured it was. The banks of the creek were lined with broad leafed plants that formed natural cups. I plucked off the nearest leaf and dipped it into the cool, flowing water. I had to test it, so I dipped my pinky into the water – it didn’t burn or melt my finger off. Test one, successful. I dipped my finger in again and put a drop in my mouth. It was the best tasting water I have ever had in my life. Although it was cold, I felt warmth in my stomach. I took a long pull from the leaf and immediately felt refreshed. I drank until I was satisfied – about half of a leaf full of the amazing water.

I decided to keep moving, those pants weren’t going to find themselves. After walking for what seemed like an hour, the forest started to thin out. I stopped at the edge of a clearing and there ahead of me was the most amazing sight I had ever seen in my life. A wall. This was a special wall, it was 100 feet tall – I guess. And it looked like it was made out of solid gold! But in my mind, all that mattered was that a wall meant civilization, that meant people, and that meant…pants.

The wall was a journey in itself. It took three hours of hiking around the circumference to find an entrance. The break in the wall was a wooden door, about 20 feet tall. There were cobwebs on the door and rust on the hinges – this obviously wasn’t the main gate. I tried the knob on the door, figuring it was locked. Surprisingly it was not and it opened rather easily. The door opened into the pitch black, but better there than in the woods – I was one step closer to pants.

I figured the room I stepped into was filled with books. There was that musty smell of old paper and leather, aged with time into a crisp mildewed odor mixing with the sweet mahogany of the bookshelves. I felt along the wall of the room for a switch, and was shocked to actually find one. I flipped the switch and a single light bulb flickered and began to give off a faint hum and then warmed into a steady dim glow. Sure enough, I was in a library or archive of some sorts, but from all the dust and spider webs I figure it hadn’t seen visitors in years.

The room wasn’t particularly large, about as big as a bedroom in a suburban house – one of those planned community things – little boxes as the song says. Shelves covered every wall floor to ceiling – and dust covered that. There were a few tables in the room, covered in books as well – stacks 10-12 books high in places, others were open and laying on top of the piles. The floor was just as dusty as the rest of the room and I didn’t see any footprints or signs of life – other than mine.

I had found civilization, but it sure seemed abandoned. I decided to look at the books that were open on the table to see if I could recognize anything about them. Imagine my surprise when I was able to read the writing! I picked up the book and sat in the only place in the room, a huge high backed wooden chair covered with intricate carvings in a foreign script. The seat was padded and covered in a rich red leather – and dust. I began reading the tome and found that it was a treatise on patience and I immediately wanted to skip that book to the next, but I decided to read a few paragraphs and found myself becoming calmer. As I read it seemed as though time stopped and I forgot I was in an alien environment. I finished the book and was amazed at the clarity and reasoning, I felt a measure of new confidence and security – was that book magic?

I picked another book from the pile; it had a wooden cover with the same intricate carvings as the chair, totally unrecognizable symbols. The book was heavy, much heavier than its size would let on, and after reading the first paragraph I figured out why it had so much weight – the subject matter was very deep.

A ship from a safe port had set out to sea, unsure of its destination. It began moving through the ocean in one direction and ran into a terrible storm. The waves pounded the ship and damaged the rudder. The poor ship was throw like a baseball from one wave to another, the sails were torn, and the crew was terrified.

When the storm had passed, the crew made a few repairs to the sails and started moving again, further into the ocean rather than back to the safety of the harbor. Another storm struck the vessel and tore at the mast and ripped at the crew, many lives were lost and the ship took on much water. But then calm came again and the remaining crew set about repairing what damage they could – a tattered sail with patches was the best they could muster. They continued on towards the open waters, hoping to find a new port for repairs. Eventually they came to a port, but it was filled with pirates and thieves, the crew barely escaped in their damaged ship.

Again they sailed out into the open ocean and finally, they ran into a hurricane. The waves ran higher than they had ever seen. The fierce wind hit like a sledgehammer. The ship, already damaged, was destroyed and the crew drowned in the horrible blackness.

The end of the book had a single note:

Think of your life as the ship and the storms as the trials you face. Do you continue aimlessly or do you return to your port of safety?

I sat for a moment after reading and wept. I realize that I had always lived my life going from crisis to crisis, my crazy night was a prime example. What did I need to learn from this?

That’s when I saw something that caught my eye on the table. A tall yellowed piece of parchment with bold lettering across the top: WANTED. The image was a familiar face – button nose, cruel eyes, buck teeth, and whiskers. Apparently his name was Charmine the Chipmunk. He was wanted for horrible, horrible crimes that I won’t mention here. Dead or Alive – I immediately felt for the gun tucked into my tattered underwear. How I wish I had pants!

#fiction #crazy #readme #adventure #scifi

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sciencespies · 3 years

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Birds’ eye size reflects habitat and diet, may predict sensitivity to environmental change

https://sciencespies.com/nature/birds-eye-size-reflects-habitat-and-diet-may-predict-sensitivity-to-environmental-change/

Birds’ eye size reflects habitat and diet, may predict sensitivity to environmental change

A new study shows the eye size of birds can reveal broad patterns of their biology and behavior, including where they live, what they eat and how they hunt, providing a potential roadmap for future conservation efforts.

Birds have some of the largest eyes relative to their bodies of all vertebrate land animals, second only to frogs. With a limited range of taste and smell, birds primarily rely on vision to navigate, find food and avoid predators. Yet surprisingly little is known about how eye size in birds influences their behavior compared with other traits, such as beak shape and body size, which scientists have meticulously studied since Charles Darwin’s classic work on finches.

“I was really shocked to find out while doing literature searches that there was no definitive publication on how eye size in birds relates to their environment,” said Ian Ausprey, a recent doctoral graduate of the Florida Museum of Natural History’s Ordway Lab of Ecosystem Conservation.

Previous studies on bird eyes have been limited in scope, typically including only a few dozen species or birds in specific regions. This gap in scientific knowledge was all the more glaring given that a graduate student measured the eyes of more than 4,000 species of birds in museum collections in the late 1970s, creating the largest dataset of its kind.

Ausprey relied on this resource to analyze eye size for 2,777 species — about one-third of the world’s bird diversity — revealing that this single trait more powerfully predicts where birds live and how they behave than better-studied characteristics such as size, anatomy and movement.

Large eyes increase sensitivity to deforestation

Ausprey had the idea for the study while conducting fieldwork with colleagues in the Andean forests of Peru. Over the course of five years, the researchers measured the eyes of Peruvian birds and attached small light sensors to more than a dozen species of tanagers, finches, wrens and woodpeckers to determine how these birds were coping with increased amounts of forest fragmentation due to agriculture.

Their results were troubling: Birds with large eyes avoided agricultural fields, keeping to diminishing forest habitats. But the researchers could also use eye size to predict where these birds mated and laid eggs and what they were eating, valuable information for future conservation efforts.

Ausprey wanted to know whether this pattern held true for all birds, not just those in Peru. But with over 10,000 species spread out across all seven continents, answering a question as broad as how eye size influences bird behavior would have taken years.

Fortunately, the data Ausprey needed had already been collected in the form of a dissertation, a nearly 2,000-page tome completed by Stanley Ritland during his time as a doctoral student at the University of Chicago.

“He spent his time traveling around museums, extracting eyes out of specimens preserved in alcohol and then measuring them,” Ausprey said. “He did it for several thousand species of birds, as well as mammals and reptiles.”

Ritland left academia upon graduating, however, and never published his data in a scientific journal. Researchers have used small portions of the massive dataset, initially relegated to the stacks of the University of Chicago library, to answer small-scale questions, but comprehensive analyses have so far been lacking.

Although the data was available, the time-consuming task of digitizing it still remained. Ausprey hired two undergraduate students, Savannah Montgomery and Kristie Perez, who spent five months transcribing Ritland’s measurements into spreadsheets so they could be analyzed and shared more broadly with the scientific community.

Because eye size tends to increase with body size, Ausprey standardized all the measurements for each species by mass and intentionally omitted birds that operate at optical extremes, such as far-sighted raptors and nocturnal owls. Scientists already know these species have unusually large eyes.

Instead, he focused on land-dwelling birds that hunt for food close to the ground and are most active during daylight hours.

Light and shadow define bird vision

Stark patterns began to take shape as eye size was compared with a host of behavioral traits.

Birds with larger eyes live closer to the equator, where the planet’s belt of rainforests create dark understory habitats. Regardless of latitude, birds that hunt or forage closest to the forest floor have large eyes to take in as much light as possible, while those that spend more time in the sky had correspondingly smaller eyes to reduce glare.

“Bright lights can cause something called disability glare,” Ausprey said. “When you shine a light on birds, they change the way they forage. They also respond differently to vocalizations of experimental predators.”

Scientists worry that such behavioral changes may negatively affect avian understory specialists, many of which have already been displaced because of deforestation.

“Understory tropical birds may be especially sensitive to fragmentation because they are adapted to dark forested environments and are unable to cope with rapid changes in brightness associated with forest edges and human-modified habitats,” Ausprey said.

Eye size is also strongly correlated with diet. Larger eyes not only absorb more light, but they can also confer increased focal length and resolution, the equivalent of upgrading your camera with a longer lens.

Birds that eat insects have larger eyes, which are better suited for spotting prey at long distances, regardless of whether they lived in the forest understory or open habitats. Birds with the smallest eyes relative to body size were often nectar feeders, hinting that they may rely on color more than shape when looking for food.

Ausprey also analyzed how eyes have changed throughout the birds’ evolution, finding that once eyes became larger in a particular group, they stayed that way. This meant that closely related groups, such as the hummingbird and swift families, could have eyes of vastly different sizes.

Within a family, however, size didn’t change much among species. Fly catchers, for example, spend a lot of time sallying out and catching prey, which requires long-distance, binocular vision, Ausprey said.

“And it turns out, flycatchers tend to have larger eyes, as you’d expect. All the finches and tanagers and such that eat fruits and seeds tend to have very small eyes.”

Collections provide tools for understanding the natural world

To Ausprey, the data collected by Ritland decades ago offer an unparalleled glimpse into bird diversity and behavior, which may help conserve species for the future.

“Nearly half a century of time has passed, and yet the same datasets are relevant,” Ausprey said.

Ritland relied entirely on alcohol-preserved museum collections, meaning the same specimens he measured are still accessible to scientists stitching together patterns in the natural world.

Some of the birds he encountered during his museum visits were already of considerable antiquity by the time he began taking his measurements, including two birds collected during Captain Cook’s first voyage around the world.

“Museum collections are invaluable, indispensable and essentially irreplaceable,” Ritland said in an email.

Ausprey, who knew firsthand the difficulty of collecting eye-size data in the Andean cloud forests of Peru, gained a newfound respect for natural history collections while using Ritland’s work.

“As an ecologist, it’s become extremely apparent that collections are invaluable for providing data on traits that we really can’t collect in the field easily.”

#Nature

#08-2021 Science News #2021 Science News #acts of science #Earth Environment #earth science #Environment and Nature #Nature Science #News Science Spies #Our Nature #planetary science #Science #Science Channel #science documentary #Science News #Science Spies #Science Spies News #Space Physics & Nature #Space Science #Nature

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