#and the MANGROVE SWAMPS THE MUD LOOKS SO GOOD | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

watcheraurora · 1 month

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Monsters

I'm having angsty thoughts. Back to regularly-scheduled programming later 5.2k words

—

Tango joined the game

Tango faceplanted spawn, is what he did. Slipping in mud and splatting. He cursed, shoving his hands into the mud until they had enough purchase to peel his face out of it. Grumbling half-baked curses under his breath, he straightened up.

"What in the... where am I?"

The world was dark. The sun was definitely overhead, but the sky was black, the clouds were grey, and stars were visible.

He tapped a button on the HUD that clung to the underside of his left arm and pointed to a block.

Light level 0.

All the way around. There was no light here.

Wiping mud from his skin, he deactivated the window over his HUD and squelched through the mud until he reached water. Mangrove swamp for spawn? Whose idea was this?

Granted, the more pertinent questions were, actually:

Where am I?

And,

How did I get here?

Neither of which Tango had any answer for.

He shoved vines out of his way as he dunked himself into the water, using it to get the rest of the mud off. His clothes shouldn't stain—the Void only knew how much redstone had been caked into the fibers over the years, and yet they stayed the same—but he didn't want to be moving around covered in dirt when the mud invariably dried.

He scrubbed at his face and hair too, for good measure.

There was no one around. The spawn chunks were untouched. Not a social hub, then. Lot of spawns weren't, but most worlds with more than a few players set up some level of infrastructure at spawn. At least a sign welcoming new players to the world. Sometimes stocked with food and basic tools.

There was nothing here.

He raised his arm and flexed his left ring finger. A list appeared over the HUD on his arm.

The only active player in this world was him. He saw several spaces for more, but they were all... redacted. He couldn't see faces or tags. That was different. Usually residents of a world who weren't active were at least displayed.

He washed himself off again and climbed out of the water and kept moving, having chosen a random direction and moving in it.

He heard the bamf behind him of an Enderman's teleport. He whirled. If he could get an Ender Pearl... But, gah, he didn't have an axe or a sword—

He didn't need one, but he'd rather use one.

There was nothing there. The Enderman was probably blocked by the thick trees and vines.

"Come on out, skippy!" Tango challenged, frustration heating his blood. "Promise I don't bite." That was a lie and the row of sharp teeth he bared in a sneer proved it.

The Enderman bamfed again after a moment, but no more visible than before.

Tango growled and stalked to the nearest mangrove tree. An utter waste of a beautiful block to make tools out of, but apparently this swamp was plentiful.

The tree did not break.

"What the—?" He peered around the tree, looking toward the Tango-shaped hole in the mud where he'd, well, landed.

How big was the no-touchy zone around spawn? He knew some worlds had them, but not all. Hermitcraft didn't—they had community builds to help players who died without a bed or anchor within a few hours of hopping to the new seed.

Tango didn't remember what the no-touchy zone around spawn that prevented building, breaking, and PvP was actually called and he didn't care. It wasn't normally useful so he'd never bothered to remember.

He kept moving. The light level zero of the world with its black sky and muted sun and stars meant that he'd soon be faceplanting into mobs that spawned outside the player radius when he appeared.

He splashed through more water. He hated swamps. Mangrove or otherwise. They spawned slimes and drowneds and navigating the water and land and mud was an absolute headache. Maybe he didn't normally hate swamps, but he certainly was hating one now.

He used a propagule to haul himself out of the water—and it broke off from the tree in his hand and popped into his inventory.

"Finally," he muttered, approaching the trunk of the tree to start getting geared up.

The Enderman in the distance teleported again.

Tango grumbled under his breath. "Stupid Endy mocking me," he muttered.

Bamf! "I'm not mocking you."

"WAH!" Tango whirled, slipped in the mud, and fell back into the water. This time, he didn't even care. He scrambled back and away. No armor, no tools, no weapons—royally screwed—

"Whoa, whoa! Hey. It's okay," the feminine voice said as though soothing a startled and skittish horse. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Peering through the vines were a pair of vibrant violet eyes.

The girl pushed the vines out of the way with her shoulder and carefully approached Tango. She put her hands in front of her, again as though trying to soothe a horse. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm sorry for scaring you."

The skin of her face was fair—freckled, even—but her hands were as pitch black as the sky. They only faded back to fair up near her shoulders. She had on a light, lavender tank top and grey shorts. Her feet were bare, and black. Also fading back to fair, though Tango couldn't see the end of the transition with her shorts in the way. Her long hair was black, and faded to violet on the ends.

Violet particles drifted off her.

"Who—what—how—" Tango spluttered.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm Eclipse." She glanced at the underside of her left arm and flexed her left ring finger. "Are you Tango?"

"Yeah."

"That just your tag or is it your name too?"

"No, it's, uh, it's my name."

Eclipse crouched, letting her knees sink into the mud slightly. She extended a hand to help him out of the water. "Nice to meet you, Tango." Her eyes swept him up and down as she said it, never quite meeting his.

"You too."

He took her hand and let her haul him out of the water. He shook his head hard to get some of the water droplets out of it and felt the fire spurt back to life in his hair, warming his whole body down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his arms. "Was that—did you—you were the one teleporting?"

Eclipse nodded.

He looked at his HUD, flexing his ring finger. "I don't see any other active names."

"Oh shoot. Sorry." She tapped on her own arm for a moment. The Tab List pinged and one of the redacted blocks hiding a name fell away. Tango saw her face and ForeverEclipse16 a few slots down the roster of resident players. "I forget that setting is on a lot. You can only see names if you've been allowed by that person after you know they're part of this world. Folks here like their privacy. Some don't care, but most like to keep to themselves here."

"Where are we?" He looked around the mangrove swamp, then deliberately looked Eclipse in the eyes, hoping it would spook her into giving him an answer. Most Players tended to be a little unnerved by his completely red eyes.

She cringed away, squeezing her eyes shut. "Please don't do that."

"Why?"

"I'll get to that. For now, to answer your other question."

Her screwed up face relaxed and her vibrant violet eyes opened again, but refused to meet his. Instead looking just below them.

"Welcome, Tango, to the World of Monsters."

—

"Okay, so, let me get this straight," Tango said, hiking up a hill that Eclipse was leading him up. They'd finally left the mangrove swamp and had found plains. His companion had been fairly silent the whole time. "Just to make sure I'm brain-ificating correctly. Which I might not be." He broke some grass and scooped up the seeds. So far he had a set of wooden tools and no armor. Eclipse wore none either; and hiked with bare feet no less. "When you say World of Monsters, you mean the name of this place, right?"

"Sure," Eclipse replied, flinging some hair off her shoulder.

Tango rolled his eyes. His sclera, iris, and pupil were all the same shade of red. She wouldn't even notice if she was looking. Which she wasn't. "Care to actually elaborate on that? This place has constantly had a light level of zero yet I haven't seen a single hostile mob spawn. How can this be the world of monsters if there are, oh I don't know, no monsters?"

Eclipse huffed a laugh out her nose, smiling but trying to hide both behind her hair and shoulder. "Hostile mobs don't spawn here," she said.

"Oh, great. That explains everything. Thank you." Tango knew his dry sarcasm was often found to be abrasive, but he couldn't help it. The attitude was in his nature. "Apart from how you teleported, how I ended up here, why the sky is dark—oh, and also where exactly am I."

Eclipse stopped at the top of the hill and swept an arm out, looking across the landscape. Tango pulled to a stop beside her.

No hostile mobs within render distance, but there were pockets of skulk.

"The World of Monsters," Eclipse said. "It's a unique place. Only Players with hostile mob code in their strings can enter this place. Some of us burn if the sun is allowed to shine properly. So the sky is kept dark." She fidgeted. There was a Bamf and she was several blocks away. Then another and she was on Tango's other side. No Chorus Fruit to be seen.

"I don't have hostile mob code," Tango said.

Eclipse snorted. "Sure you don't." Her eyes flicked up to his burning hair. "Blaze."

She turned and started marching off again. Tango squawked in protest and followed after her. "So, wait. Why this place?"

"Because hostile mob hybrids are often feared. This is a place where we can be ourselves without worrying about how other Players will react to the monstrous parts of us. We've got one guy—Creeper-code—who shows up here just to blow up when he's mad before going back to his usual world." She smiled. "That's why there's a large zone around spawn that prevents breaking blocks. So he can spawn in, blow up, and leave without leaving pockmarks all over."

"And you're an Enderman hybrid."

Eclipse nodded. "Human enough that water doesn't bother me. Ender enough that looking me directly in the eye does." She cleared her throat. "But that's because Endermen communicate telepathically by looking one another in the eye. But Players have a lot more to process. Complicated thoughts and emotions. If a Player looks an Enderman in the eye, they attack because they get overwhelmed by the amount of information they try to process from a Player. It's a defense mechanism. But they count as hostile. So here I am." She placed a dirt block to make a two-block gap climbable. "When you look me in the eye, I can read your mind. All of it. Having a mostly human brain and mostly human intelligence means I can handle Player thoughts and emotions. But that doesn't mean I want to see everything. So I don't recommend looking me in the eye."

"Noted," Tango said. "No looky-looky." He cleared his throat and kept climbing behind her. "How did you guess I have Blaze code?"

Eclipse raised a brow and eyed his hair again. "Gee, I wonder," she remarked sarcastically before continuing her hike.

"No one else has ever guessed," Tango argued, trailing along. He wasn't entirely sure where she was taking him. She said she'd bring him someplace safe, and for the most part, he believed her.

"Well, how many of your 'no one' is also a hostile mob hybrid?"

"At least three. One of my friends is part zombie. It's in her tag. The other is part slime. The last has Creeper code."

"Maybe they were just too polite to say, since your hybrid traits are more subtle and you can pass for a normal Player with some fire powers. But you couldn't access this world otherwise. So it was easy for me to guess." Eclipse fidgeted, teleporting several blocks ahead and then back to where she'd been. "Sorry," she muttered. "I do that. I don't usually mean to. It's kind of a side-effect."

"It's fine." Tango really couldn't care less that she was a nervous teleporter. "Why don't hostile mobs spawn here?"

"Because we turned off those spawns. We wanted a place where we could be ourselves without... looking at what makes us different. It's nice to have one peaceful world where we can just live." She cleared her throat. Bamfed away and back. Kept hiking. "My base is just on the other side of that mountain. I didn't want to be too far away from spawn in case I accidentally broke my bed."

"You can teleport. Isn't that, like, not a big deal?"

"Well sure but 'porting still takes energy. I'd rather save it." She cleared her throat. "Speaking of." She turned and held something out for him. "I forgot. You'll probably be getting hungry."

Tango peeked at his HUD as he took the golden carrot from her. His hunger was, in fact, getting really low. He ate the carrot and then the next one she offered him. He considered his meter high enough after that and politely declined a third.

They hiked for a while longer, crossing the plains biome and into a mountainous one. Goats bleated high above. They seemed to be circling the base of the mountain, rather than going directly over it. The day was getting on, the muted sun crawling ever closer to the horizon. "So you can't farm Blaze here," he said.

"Can't farm a lot of things. Skeletons for bones and arrows, zombies for rotten flesh for clerics, zombie piglins for gold, Endermen for Pearls and XP, creepers for gunpowder, Blaze for Blaze Rods, shulkers for shells. We don't do a lot of brewing here. And, actually, without zombies, iron farms don't work either. Let me tell ya, Jevin was bummed when he first got here and there was no way to make an Ender farm."

Tango froze. "Did you just say Jevin?"

"Yeah. Blue slime guy. He's actually pretty chill."

"I know him. He lives on my main residential world with me."

"Oh. He's the one you mentioned earlier?"

"Yeah!" Tango peeked at the Tab List again. iJevin had appeared on the roster, though the name was greyed out and [Off-World] was next to it.

"Interesting." Eclipse shuddered like an aggravated Enderman and after shaking her head hard, continued onward.

"What about spiders?" Tango asked. "Since they're passive but also hostile depending on the light?"

Eclipse gestured around her. "Light level zero," she reminded him.

"Right. So no string or spider eyes either."

"Nope." She cleared her throat. "Anyway. Home sweet home." She extended an arm out.

Tango paused.

She'd built a whole village out of End Stone variants and Purpur blocks. Like if an End City and a normal village had weird hybrid children houses.

Apart from the castle—that appeared to be made out of Purpur and studded with Amethyst. It was gorgeous, reaching toward the sky. Eclipse smiled at him and started hopping down the mountain to the village at the base of it.

"That's gorgeous," Tango said, following her.

"Thanks. Let me get you kitted out and then you can do what you want. Come and go as you please."

He hopped down the mountain after her. "So... how did I end up here?"

"Eventually every hostile mob hybrid just gets brought here. Most of us don't stay here full-time. We just come here for vacations. To be how we are with no fear of scaring normal players. You could turn into a bonfire right here and no one would bat an eye. If anyone was even here at the moment. Since no one's really a full-time resident. Except—" She cleared her throat. "Except me. I live here."

"Why did you choose to live here?"

She eyed him sarcastically, her gaze just off from his eyes. With a Bamf noise, she was almost the entire way down the mountain. This time, she didn't come back. Tango pursued her faster, catching up upon realizing she hadn't started moving again.

"I live here because being on public residential worlds is overwhelming. People look me in the eyes without meaning to. I teleport randomly and have broken redstone circuits by accident just by getting stuck in one. Here, I can just do what I want. I can wander and 'port and build and not worry about someone dumping their entire brain into mine because they happened to be curious about my eyes." She blinked. "At least here, everyone knows what I am and are polite enough not to look me in the eye."

"What about a more private world? Like a whitelisted one with only a handful of people?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. I don't need the headache of people finding out about me. Based on my experience, it doesn't end well when normal players realize you've got hostile mob code."

"My zombie friend has been accepted well, on our world. So has Jevin."

"Then your world is kinder than most." She pushed open a door to a large, rectangular house—that was absolutely filled with chests. There were signs attached to each one detailing what was inside. Her storage hut. "Let me get you some things." She lifted the lid of a chest.

"If you can't get Ender Pearls or Blaze Rods, you can't get to the End, can you?"

"I never said that we can't get Ender Pearls. We just can't farm them. I can make them. It's part of my Ender code." She gestured to a double chest labelled Ender Pearls. Tango, at her nod, peeked under the lid. It was absolutely chock full of Ender Pearls. "Why? What's so important in the End?"

"Well... how do you get Purpur and End Stone? How does everyone here fly?"

"I don't. I 'port. I can get to the End."

"Where's the Stronghold?"

She shrugged. "Dunno."

"Wait, wait, wait. You mean you can teleport directly to the End?"

"I can teleport to the Nether, the End, and the overworld at will."

Tango stared, blinking. "What?"

"Just part of my code. I can only really hop to the Nether directly corresponding to where I am in the overworld. But the End I can, y'know. Get wherever. So I harvest my blocks there. But I've got a crop of Chorus plants too that I can turn into Purpur."

"How does everyone else fly?"

"Most of them don't." She snuck a look at him out of the corner of her eye. "But Blaze fly naturally."

"Yeah. I just made a habit of using an Elytra so the other Hermits didn't think I was weird." His Blaze Rods burned into being, orbiting his head. He lifted a few inches off the ground and touched back down. The Blaze Rods vanished.

"No wonder your friends never guessed you were Blaze code." She reached deeper into the chest, short enough that her feet came off the ground, kicking the air to maintain her balance. "If you keep your Rods hidden, why would they assume?"

"I don't... mean to keep them hidden. They just get in the way."

"Mmhmm." She didn't sound convinced.

Particles drifted off Eclipse as she rummaged in a chest labelled Food.

She pulled out several stacks of golden carrots, handing them over. Tango let them pop into his inventory. "That should be enough to last you a while. I've got lots of crops here and a handful of villagers with golden carrot trades so let me know if you need more. You can just ping me in the chat or send a whisper or whatever. You could also, uh, stop by. If you want. Just whenever. I don't mind unexpected company."

Tango eyed her. The way her shoulders curled forward as she opened a different chest. "You're lonely," he said. Not a question.

"I'm fine," she replied, passing over a set of diamond tools. None of it was enchanted, but it was diamond.

"Wait, hang on. What is this?" Tango demanded.

"What?"

"You're just handing me diamond tools like it's no big deal!"

She shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"How is it not a big deal?! It's diamond! This set must have taken you hours of mining to get—and you're not even wearing armor!"

"I don't need armor. There's no hostile mobs here and fall damage is easily mitigated by teleporting. Besides, the tools are nothing." Her own set of diamond tools—gleaming with the magic of enchantment—spun through her hands from her inventory. "I traded for them. I didn't mine. I built a village. I have villagers."

"Still, that's a lot of trading."

"Tango, look in this chest and tell me I don't have tools to spare."

He peered over her shoulder. The double chest was full of diamond tools. All unenchanted, but all diamond. "Wow."

Eclipse continued searching her storage room. "Let's see what else I can give you... Oh! A bed. Hang on. I think I've got some wool and planks..." She crossed to a different chest—labelled Wool—and ducked into it.

ZombieCleo joined the game.

Tango stared at the chat over his hub for a moment.

Then his hand flew to it.

<Tango> CLEO?!

<ZombieCleo> Tango?

Eclipse straightened out of her chest with some wool in her hands, reading the chat on the underside of her arm. "Oh. You know each other?"

"Cleo also lives on my homeworld!"

<ZombieCleo> Where are you, Tango? How did you get here?

<ForeverEclipse16> He's at my base

She went to a crafting table and started assembling a bed.

<ZombieCleo> Stay there. I'm on my way

<Tango> Roger, roger *thumbs up*

"There you go!" Eclipse said, turning around. "I have lots of dye if you want to pick a color."

"I don't really care. Plain is fine. A bed is a bed." Tango took it from her and put it in his inventory. "This is more than generous, Eclipse. Thank you."

"Sure thing. We don't get new Players often. Least I can do is help you out." She smiled. "Let's go out and wait for Cleo. They tend to move pretty quick."

"Yeah. Sure thing."

—

When Cleo emerged from the tree line on a horse, they looked slightly cross. Eclipse had been Bamfing around the houses of her base, up on the rooftops, waiting for their arrival. When she caught sight of them, she waved.

Cleo followed the directions Eclipse gave and rode straight up to Tango. "And just what have you been keeping from us, Tek? How are you here?" they demanded.

Tango knew that a lot of Cleo's intimidation was bravado and bluffing. That didn't stop his pointed ears from flattening to his head and his hair simmering low. He was still intimidated by them when that angry voice came out. Cleo could probably wipe him in PvP and he didn't want to trek all the way back here to pick up the bits Eclipse had given him.

"I, uh..." Tango started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have hostile mob code?"

"Why do you say that like a question?" Cleo glowered down at him. "You can't get in here otherwise. Out with it."

"I'm part-Blaze, okay?!" Tango snapped, his temper, hair, and Blaze Rods flaring. Cleo blinked in surprise at seeing the Rods manifest around his head, their eyes tracking the orbit. "I'm Nether-spawn! I didn't tell anyone because Nether mobs are—they're—" He cut himself off with a huff, his fists clenching. His Blaze Rods spun around him faster.

"Tango." Cleo's frustration had vanished. They slid off their horse, tied it to a post, and approached him. They were taller than him and ducked down enough to force him to meet their eyes. Vibrant green, and now full of affection. "Tango, you know none of the Hermits care. Doc's got Creeper code. I've got zombie. Jevin's a slime. X is a code-shifter. Who knows what the hell Mumbo is. You never needed to hide anything from us."

"It's different," Tango muttered. "You're all overworld hybrids."

"Were you scared that the Hermits would reject you?"

"No! ... Yes? ... Kinda?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's different for me."

"Enlighten me," Cleo said flatly, eyes narrowing to a bit of a glower.

"I'm going to assume you didn't say that as a fire pun," Tango muttered. Eclipse had Bamfed away somewhere, apparently out of earshot, and was sitting up on a tower of her castle.

"Tango," Cleo warned.

He sighed. "Look. It's different for me, okay? I'm not overworld-hostile-mob. I'm Nether-hostile-mob. And more than that, I'm Blaze code. Nether mobs are the worst and the Blaze are... they... I... I couldn't let that part of me show."

"Why?"

"Because if the Hermits knew I was Blaze code, they'd be fine with it. They'd tell me I didn't have to hide. They'd encourage me to be open about myself."

"And that's a bad thing?" Cleo challenged.

"Yes!" Tango threw up his hands. "Because if I let myself be open about my Blaze heritage, I'd get lax about controlling it."

"Fire spread is off."

"That's not what I mean." Tango's hair flicked faster. "I know that. I like having fire in my builds as much as the next guy. More, even. It's the other parts that I have to keep down. You think my temper is bad and explosive now? Imagine how much worse it would be if I embraced the monster in my code." As he spoke, his teeth bared in a snarl. Their white, sharp points flashing in the starlight. The sun had truly gone down, but no mobs spawned. The End Rods that kept Eclipse's farms at the right light level to grow plants were the only light in the area.

Cleo considered him. "Am I a monster?"

"Don't," Tango said softly.

"Is Doc a monster? Is Jevin? Is Mumbo?"

"It's different for me!" Tango shouted. His hair burst into a massive plume of flame, his Blaze Rods flaring with light and heat and shooting around his head like meteors. The fire crawled down from his hair, consuming his head. Neck. Shoulders. Arms. Torso.

"How?!" Cleo retorted with equal gusto.

"Because I'm from Hell!" he roared. "The Nether is a hellscape and that's where my code comes from! I'm not like the overworld hostile mobs! You can survive in extreme conditions and just stitch yourself back together! Doc can release all his emotions in one quick explosion and carry on. Everything literally slides off Jevin. I'm not like you guys. I'm from the place no one actually likes going. People go to the Nether out of necessity. And you know what they do? They break through the damn ceiling and build up there so they don't have to deal with the rest of it!"

The fire had crawled to Tango's knees.

"Jimmy never thought you were a monster," Cleo said.

Tango's fire vanished, leaving only his hair burning low. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Cleo leaned back, folding their arms. "You won't listen to me. You wouldn't listen to Impulse if he was telling you this. You won't listen to the Hermits who believe that you're not a monster. You know us too well. You're like a child who won't listen to their parents but if someone else suggests the same idea, you do listen. So if you won't believe me when I tell you that you're not a monster, maybe you'd listen to him."

Tango stared. "He doesn't know the real me."

"He held your heart and soul in his hands, and you held his. He knows you well enough. You nearly burnt him alive when he tried to hold you back after Scar caught the ranch on fire. And he held onto you anyway. Would he do that for a monster?"

Tango's whole body felt like Cleo had thrown a bucket of ice water over his temper and dropped an ice cube down his spine.

"I don't care what your relationship with him was like behind closed doors," Cleo continued. "I don't care if you were romantically involved or just good friends having fun in a death match together. It doesn't matter. What matters was that it was obvious he cared about you, and you cared about him. And he held you through one of the worst rages I've ever seen you in. So what are you so afraid of with the Hermits? Why do you think they'll see you as a monster? You're not one."

"I'm not now. Anymore. But I was and I could be again if my control slipped." Tango's hair was flickering fast.

Cleo reached out and set a hand on his arm. "Don't beat yourself up so much. You're more than the sum of all your code. We all are." They looked around. "Come on. I'll take you to my base here and then you can find a spot for your own. Then you can pop in and out of here whenever you need to."

Tango looked around the End Stone and purpur village.

<Tango> Eclipse? Pop back down?

Bamf! "What's up?" Eclipse asked.

"Cleo's taking me to her base and from there I'm gonna find a little plot of my own. But first I wanted to say goodbye. And thank you. Since you've been so kind."

"Oh, no problem." Eclipse smiled, her eyes flicking to his for a split second before blinking hard and looking away. "Happy to help. If you ever need anything while you're here, let me know. I'll probably be here," she said. "I have a Creative world I mock up builds on for the village when I need to, but more likely than not I'll be here." She put out a hand. Purple particles drifted off the black skin.

Tango shook her hand. Her skin was cold compared to his, but everyone's was. "Thanks again."

"Sure thing. Enjoy your stay. The World of Monsters is a haven for you now. Whenever you need to Blaze away from the eye of your friends."

"Yeah." Tango turned to Cleo. "Lead the way."

Cleo hopped back on their horse. "Try to keep up."

Tango just laughed, his Blaze Rods spinning around his head and lifting him off the ground. "I think I'll be fine."

Cleo laughed that infectious laugh of theirs and urged their horse into a gallop. Tango shot off after them.

Eclipse watched them all go, a small smile on her face.

#Hermitcraft fic #Aurora Writes #Rory Writes #TangoTek #Tango Tek #ZombieCleo

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journeysfable · 2 years

Text

Emptober Day 3: Novel

Shelby was in need of froglights. They were cute! And they didn’t pose as much as a fire hazard as torches. (the last part was not relevant to her recent search at all. Forest fire in the mangroves? Who said that? No such thing happened. Like how Shelby never lies. Never happens.)

She hopped off her broom and called out for Pixlriffs. But there was no response. There were small froglight trees growing around, though. Maybe she could just snatch one of those? Yea! She only needed a few, she could grow her own from them, and then she wouldn’t even need to bother Pix!

As she began plucking the fruit, she became more cognizant of the ruins around her. Once she had some froglights, she traveled back to what appeared to be Pix’s camp, and looked around. She wondered if he had any notes about the area.

She found an old looking book that was red and yellow with letters that Shelby had never seen before. They were some mix of wavy and spikey. She carefully flipped it open and gaped.

It was a spell book! She couldn’t read it but spell books were usually formatted a certain way and the drawings depicted rituals, magical objects, and guides for spells that used wand movements.

Shelby had to try these spells! She was good at older magic. And maybe if she did these advanced and maybe long forgotten spells, she could prove she was a great witch! And she would no longer be banned from practicing magic!

So once she got back to The Evermoore, Shelby cleared a space in the mangroves and used the wood as a summoning circle. She then combined what she already knew about summoning with what the archaic book depicted.

She needed several powered items, items that contained their own magic force, so she… Borrowed a from the other empires. And also used one of her own propagules. Finally, she placed a red mushroom and blaze powder in the middle of the circle and and pointed her wand to the center, and channeled her magic to it while internally chanting.

She had no idea what would happen. She just saw in the book that you were supposed to place a couple other items that didn’t have the powered symbol on them. So she just used things she had lying around.

Red symbols appeared at the edge of the circle, and branched toward the middle, and Shelby cut of her magic and watched.

A towering dark figure emerged from the symbol, seeming to grow from the shadows around the swamp.

It looked like a deer, if instead of hooves, deer had talons that scorched the earth, sharp sword like teeth, red eyes and growths and glowing markings that looked like magma.

It began to rain all of a sudden and the creature, after steam began to rise from it, teleported away with a terrifying roar.

Shelby had a bad feeling about this.

Maybe the spell book knew what it was?

She hastily flipped through the pages, wincing as she tore a few with her recklessness.

The creature wasn’t in the book.

Shelby ran back to her house, and once she got in she didn’t care about the mud she tracked through as she grabbed every textbook on magical entities, and objects with magic. She searched for anything on magic deer and crimson fungus. What she got made her heart drop.

The crimson fungus technically comes from an entity called The Corruption. DO NOT USE IN SPELLS. Only in potion brewing.

Shelby grabbed the history book on magic and flipped to the page about The Corruption. All she gathered about it was that it was an unknown entity from the nether that almost overran a continent thousands of years ago. There was nothing about how to stop it.

Maybe she could somehow reverse spells? In the same way one reversed potions?

She grabbed the same ingredients, this time with warped fungus and ice, and stuffed them in a shulker. There was still the issue of finding the creature, though.

She decided she had to at least make sure it wasn’t near any of the empires. She picked up the shulker and went flying. She didn’t find it in the empires so at least maybe no one would be hurt.

She succeeded. She successfully summoned something. But…

Three dragons, what has she done?

#shubble #exor #sort of #holy shit im using actual empires characters instead of ocs #Emptober 2022 #empires smp #the corruption #unhappy ending #ive decided this shall be the prequel to the werewolf!kath fic #other people: shelby can fix katherines curse #me: she can make it worse #from the fable

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leopardmask-ao3 · 2 years

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Week 9 of the 10 Weeks of Celebration challenge! This week's prompt: The Future. Which was a very uncertain distance away when I wrote this, but is now significantly closer than expected, hence the early-in-the-week upload lol.

Gem and False are hunting frogs to take home. That's it, that's pretty much the fic.

Read it on ao3 or

"Whoaa."

"Well," False declared. "I think we've found the place."

"Look at the mangroves!" Gem scrambled down the hill they had crested, headed for the spreading trees. She hopped up onto one of the raised roots and gently grabbed a hanging branch, taking a close look at the long, thin leaves. "False! These are going to be so pretty!"

"Have you seen the color of the wood inside?" False asked, sliding the last few feet to meet Gem.

"Not in person yet. But I've heard, and I'm so excited."

"Just don't forget that's not the only thing we're here for," False reminded her, lowering her voice and scanning her surroundings carefully.

"Right," Gem stage-whispered back. She crouched down and leaped to another root, while False trekked directly over the thick mud. "I think we gotta get closer to the water."

"You might have had the right idea, getting up on the roots like that," False observed, wrinkling her nose at the mud piling up on the soles of her boots. "This stuff is getting heavy. It's worse than soul sand, I swear."

"Yeah! I'm smart sometimes." Gem offered a hand, which False took to pull herself up. False steadied herself against the trunk of the tree and started scraping her boots off on a root, then looked around to see Gem preparing to jump to the next tree.

Gem hopped nimbly from root to root, with False following closely behind, until Gem stopped them both with a raised hand. "Wait! I hear..."

She stood still for a moment, motionless except for her ears pinpointing the sound. Gem grinned, then silently waved False forward. False grinned back and got a lead ready.

There! Next to a patch of water, an orange frog sat, croaking every few seconds. False whirled the lead like a lasso, then threw it.

The frog tried to hop away, but the lead caught! Struggling against the rope, the frog let out a long-winded, high squeal of distress as False reeled it in. Gem picked it up gently, wincing at the sound. "Hey, hey, it's okay! You're gonna have a nice time back home, I promise. Maybe you can even have some axolotl friends!"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Gem," False advised. "Don't axolotls eat frogs? Or their tadpoles, at least."

"Oh." Gem held up the frog like it was a cat. "You'll get your own tank then! With another froggy friend!"

"Oh, right, we gotta get another one so we can get all the colors, don't we?" False sighed. "Maybe we could find a tadpole? Then it would at least fit in a bucket."

"Yeah! We at least need the white one," Gem reminded False. "For Pearl! Sorta."

False chuckled. "You got someone lined up to help you with that plan, or are you going to farm the magma cubes yourself?"

"I asked Impulse, of course," Gem chirped. "He thought it was pretty funny. He's even found a bastion we can use! Operation Pearlescent Froglights for Pearlescentmoon is a go!"

"As long as we get the white frog."

"As long as we get a white frog!"

The orange frog squirmed in Gem's arms, then pushed off and landed back in the mud. Gem yelped as the force of the jump knocked her backward. Her hoof slipped from the root, and the next thing she knew, she was flailing on muddy ground, struggling to get her hooves under her.

"Oh gosh," False laughed.

Gem slipped, one foot staying stuck in the mud while the rest of her fell again. "Ow. I'm not built for this, False. I really don't want to break an ankle because of a frog. Frogs are supposed to be nice."

"Hang on." False took the end of the lead she was still holding and started trying to tie it around one wrist. "Don't some worlds have hoofed creatures that live in swamps just fine?"

Gem pulled herself free with a squelching sound and tried walking, sighing in frustration when every step required her to pull her knees practically up to her chest. "I'm not a moose, False. Have you seen those things? Their legs alone are as tall as I am. I'm more of a creature of the forest."

False knelt down and held out her hand, bracing herself as Gem pulled herself back up onto the root. Gem wrinkled her nose at the mud caking her legs and back. "Gross."

"Right? Let's get that tadpole and get out of here. I'd rather swim in the swamp water with a bucket than fall in this mud again."

"Agreed."

-----

Bonus end scene: The frog meets the slime man.

When they got home, Gem proudly showed off the frog to a number of hermits - including Jevin. Totally not because she and False wanted to see if it would scare him, nope.

Instead, Jevin looked excited when they showed up. He jogged over to greet them and the frog - "Hey, little guy!" - and chuckled at the slightly disappointed expressions on the ladies' faces.

"Yeah, I'm a little too big for this dude, huh?" Jevin reached his hand out to pet the frog. The frog shot its tongue out, pulling Jevin's hand into its mouth and startling all three of them. But, not a second later, the frog released him, and proceeded to ignore all further approaches. Jevin patted it on the head. "See? Too big. Sorry, buddy - you'll have to get your next meal elsewhere."

#hermitcraft #my fic #10 years of hermitcraft #the Wild Update #still not sure how to properly Tumblr Tag #geminitay #falsesymmetry #iJevin #(in the bonus scene)

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minecraft-survivor-world · 2 years

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So I just saw the newest Minecraft update an I am, quiet frankly, disappointed.

So let’s talk about it! First off, let’s go over the Warden and his evil lair. I haven’t seen his area personally, but already it’s not favorable. I will probably post something later about this addition, but I was never interested in this newest structure (it reminds me too much of bastion remnants, which I was not a fan of at all). And besides, considering that this was supposed to be in the previous update, I’m not counting it as a 1.19 update. So I won’t be covering that, but feel free to leave your opinion in the comments.

So let’s look at the new additions to 1.19.

The first thing that bothered me was that, besides the Warden, there was only two new mobs: the frog and the Allay. Overall they’re okay, I don’t love them but I don’t hate them. I like the frogs more than I do the allay (what I find interesting is that every single mob chosen by the community is a flop. It’s almost like they’re trying to mask subpar creations with the illusion of choice). And this wouldn’t be an issue… If they added something interesting.

Let’s look at what good thing came out of 1.19. We have the recovery compass, which is actually really useful! It allows you to find your last death point, which could be a lifesaver for adventurers. However, multiple mods have used mini maps to the same effect with much more efficiency, and this is something gamers have been asking for for years. So it’s good, but only because there’s nothing else. The new boats with chests are also useful, though they do drop their contents when destroyed. The new frog lanterns are actually really cool, and I don’t have anything bad to say about them. The mud bricks are okay, they’re basically a recolored version of stone bricks, but builders will definitely have a field day with them.

After that things go downhill.

The mangrove swamp is, for lack of better wording, lacking. The new trees offer a new wood and roots. The roots might be useful in some aspects, but it feels like a very niche block. But the wood is fairly pretty looking. The new leaves are definitely nicer looking in comparison. The new mud block is iffy, I like it’s purplish coloring but it doesn’t scream mud to me. It doesn’t even look natural- it’d look better somewhere with more fictional scenery: like the nether. Overall, this new biome is disappointing. And, considering this was supposed to be the biggest addition to the game (besides the ever late content from the previous update) is definitely not a win for Microsoft.

Also, what is even going on with the goat horns? How are they useful? All they do is make noises and they have a cool down. Why? Just… Why? People are calling them “instruments” but they’re barely that. They might have a bigger use than what I’m seeing, but so far I’m not impressed.

And that sums up this entire update: it’s disappointing. Do I blame the creators? A little bit. Do I blame Microsoft more? Absolutely. If you promise something you better deliver, so stop dangling carrots in front of us and give us a better game, or else you’ll lose everything.

( Give us archeology and fireflies and I might reconsider what I’ve written. Just a thought.)

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 2 years

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Speak No Evil (Part 32)

They were getting along so well. Maybe that’s why it comes as such a shock when it all begins to fall apart.

She supposes that it was really only a matter of time; Azula has been holding back a lot.

And it was only a matter of time before one of them said the wrong thing. Suki thinks that she should have seen it coming. Especially after a long day of wandering through the swamp.

The nearest spirit den is two days away, it had been a tedious venture when she and Mai first scouted it out and the spirits inhabiting it look significantly meaner than the group they’d just taken down.

Despite it all, Azula seemed to be holding up well. Not that, that made the journey any more pleasant. The swamp had thickened at least two hours out, the waters had gotten deeper and the thickets had gotten twice as unruly.

And each step taken brought fouler odors to their noses. At the swamp’s fringes the air had still been fresh. Now they are diving into the more untamed territories. The more inhospitable areas. The bugs here are twice as large and thrice as pesky.

All of which were unpleasantries made worse when Suki had hooked her foot on a root and landed herself face first into the murk. Mud had filled her nose, smelling of rotting fish and dead leaves. She had stumbled into Sokka who had twisted his ankle while trying to keep himself from falling.

It was quite a chain reaction; most immediately, Sokka had collided with Zuko who had collided with a tree and bruised his elbows in an attempt to keep his nose from slamming into the trunk of a mangrove. And another hour later, Sokka’s soiled mood was beginning to agitate Katara.

Suki had gritted her teeth, they already had one pair of bickering siblings, they couldn’t afford a second. But the arguing was already well under way.

“Sokka, you’re always so pessimistic! Would it kill you to lighten up a little?”

“Lighten up!? I’m the one who has been telling all of the jokes and making this more bearable!”

This is where Suki had expected it all to go wrong. Everyone was already so angry and argumentative. Yes, it should have gone wrong there. But instead there was a break in the weather before the storm found its true intensity.

.oOo.

It starts as a shower light sprinkle of rain. Mai can sense it brewing in the simple conversation that had begun. In that careless small talk that begins with Sokka grumbling, “this makes me miss the good old days.”

“What good old days?” Zuko asks. “Pretty sure things weren’t great then either.”

“I don’t know, I thought that things went pretty alright.” Sokka shrugs. “It was kind of fun traveling the world.”

“Maybe for you, I was angry the whole time.”

“It was pretty dull.” Mai gives her own input.

“Dull?” Azula quirks a brow. “TyLee made quite an adventure of things.”

“Yeah, it was overwhelming sometimes.” Mai admits. “I guess it was better than being at home.” She shrugs.

“At least you weren’t actively suffering.” Zuko frowns.

Mai sighs she nearly asks him if he is really making a contest out of their suffering. Frankly she is more than willing to lose that competition. Not that she would put any effort into it at all anyhow. She blows a strand of hair out of her face. The swamp is growing muggy and humid, a horrid sticky sort of heat that the Fire Nation usually spares them from.

“You didn’t suffer the whole time.” Aang tries with a smile. “I thought that we had some fun on Ember Island.”

“I guess it was alright.” Zuko gives an inch. “I mean it was a break from everything and I finally had a family.”

“You had Iroh.” Aang reminds him. “You’re lucky to have him.”

Mai hears Azula scoff but she makes no comment.

“And Sozin’s Comet!” Sokka declares.

“Sozin’s Comet?” Suki asks. “That was stressful. I thought that you and Toph…” she trails off. “I don’t think that those times were as good and simple as you’re making them sound, Sokka.” She slows down to pick a pebble out of her shoe.

“Well it had a happy ending!” Sokka counters.

“Yeah I suppose it did. Tea at the Jasmine Dragon was nice.” She agrees.

“Remember Sokka’s silly drawing?” Aang asks.

“It wasn’t silly! It was a masterpiece and you all know it.” Sokka folds his arms across his chest.

“You drew me as a firebender.”

“To make the scene more exciting. It’s called creative liberty, Suki. It’s called artistic freedom. It’s called…”

“It’s called being pretentious.” Katara rolls her eyes. “But it was still nice. We needed a good laugh after all of the wartime stress.” She pauses. “The Jasmine Dragon was really great for that; the ambiance was amazing. Really peaceful. You should tell your uncle that he did a good job, Zuko.”

“I will.” Zuko finally smiles.

“We had our best kiss that day.” Aang declares. “I mean we had lots of good ones but there was something about the sunset and that feeling, you know the one where you can finally breathe?”

Katara nods. “The war just made that moment of peace just feel more peaceful. It was a relief. People could finally start to hope for something better.”

They could hope for something better and yet the world handed them something worse and they might not even know it. Come to think of it, Mai is almost certain that they are keeping secrets; keeping the severity of this spirit situation hidden behind a curtain to be pulled away only after the situation has been dealt with, if it gets pulled back at all. Mai keeps her mouth shut, there is no sense in dragging the moral back down.

Not when Azula is so dangerously quiet.

“Yeah, that’s what made me happy.” Aang agrees. “Everyone had a brand new start.”

“New starts…” Azula mutters just softly enough to go unheard. “Everyone always talks about new starts like they’re the best thing that can happen.”

Mai braces herself for a second wave of arguing but they are too immersed in their own reminiscing to pay Azula any mind at all. Mai isn’t sure if that is a mercy or just one more nail in the coffin.

“Okay, yeah I guess that it was a good day. I actually felt…strong.” Zuko grins. “That was the first time that I realized I actually had a chance.”

They don’t notice when Azula stops walking nor when she too stops and falls in line with the princess. “Drab discussion, huh?” She tries.

“Oh it’s wonderful.” Azula deadpans.

Just when Mai thinks that they will be left behind, the group comes to a halt. Aang is the first to backtrack. “Are you guys alright?”

“Just perfect.” Azula scoffs with apparently just enough sarcasm to bypass the curse. “Move along, Avatar.”

Katara wanders over and is followed by Sokka. And Sokka is followed by Suki and Zuko. “Come on, Azula, don’t be like this.” Sokka frowns. “The mood was finally getting better.”

“Maybe for you.”

“We were just trying to make small talk.” Katara says. “That’s all. You could have joined us if you wanted.”

“We’re trying to get along with you.” Sokka adds.

“By bonding over that day. I’m sure that you’d all love to hear my story.”

There’s a weighty silence as realization settles upon them all at once. Aang cringes. “We didn’t mean anything by it. It was just…we needed some good memories to talk about and…” even he realizes that, that doesn’t mean a thing. “I mean this swamp has been so bleak and that was a happy time for a lot of us…” he rubs his face–at least he has the decency to realize that he is digging himself deeper and to be embarrassed over it.

“Maybe we should talk about something else.” Mai suggests only to have Suki, albeit accidentally, talk over her. “Well maybe it was a good thing for you Azula…” And at her words, Mai sighs. She really does have a talent for saying just the wrong thing.

“A good thing?” Azula furrows her brows. “A good thing…do you want to hear my story?” She leaves no space for rejection. “My father decided that I was a hindrance and left me behind because he didn’t want to hear me complaining about the hallucinations. He left me alone with them. I was hearing voices all day and then I was frozen in a block of ice and chained to a grate for three hours. I don’t remember most of that but I know that I was chained to a grate and my wrists were bloody by the end of it.” She yanks her sleeves up. “I bet that you’ve been assuming that these came from the Golden Scale. They didn’t.” Katara flinches at the bracelets of scar tissue on her wrists. “I got to see everything I worked for fall apart. I trained my whole life for that crown.” She jabs her finger at Zuko’s crown. “I practiced my bending every day, every night…I studied up on all of the war tactics. I took Ba Sing Se for the Fire Nation–it was my best work. And on that happy day that fell apart too.

“Azula…” Suki says softly.

“Joyful day, indeed. I’m thrilled to have this brand new start.” She hisses. At this point Mai isn’t sure of how much of this is Azula venting of her own volition and how much is the insistence of the seed.

“Azula, I had to chain you up. You tried to kill Zuko! You tried to kill me!”

Azula snarls, it is a look of hatred that Mai hasn’t seen since confronting her at the Boiling Rock. It sends a trill of dread down her spine.

“You don’t think that Zuzu would have done me any different? He’s not like your boyfriend. He has been wanting me dead since before father banished us.”

“Zuko wasn’t…” Katara trails off. “You were…” she groans. Clearly there is no diplomatic way to say whatever she wants to say. “You should have seen yourself. It was…it was scary, Azula.”

“I’ll show you something absolutely terrifying.”

“Let’s go for a walk, Azula.” Mai tries. “We can talk about something better.”

“Like that time you and TyLee left me to face father alone after having let all of them get away, again. You knew that father wasn’t going to take that well and you left before...”

“We talked about this.” Mai sighs, trying to exhale those first tickles of frustration. “And we can talk about it again if you take a walk with me.”

“She should stay with the group.” Suki comments uncertinaly.

“We’re taking a walk, that’s all. We’ll be back.” Azula replies through gritted teeth.

“How about this, you can stay here and try to get along with us or we can have you locked back up” Zuko threatens.

“Zuko…” Mai puts a decent deal of effort into a warning tone.

“At least in there I can get a bath and a meal served with the patronizing comments.” Nevermind that said meals, if her previous stories are anything to go by, were always bland or rock hard and the baths were freezing and humiliating.

“We’re done here, Zuko.” Mai says. “I’m going to go for a walk with Azula because I’m also tired of all of your outbursts and self pity. You’re just so intense all the time.” She pauses her stride to take a glance back over her shoulder. “And you ought to start considering Azula’s feelings–for you own sake, if nothing else.”

.oOo

“Does this look like a good spot?” Aang asks. And for the first time all day, everyone agrees on something. There is still a good deal of daylight left and it shines upon what must be the driest, least stinkiest spot that they have come by in a while. It isn’t exactly what Azula would call cozy–not by a long shot–but it certainly seems like a sanctuary by comparison.

And taking a bath in the very first relatively clean pool of water they have come by, seems like a marvelous way to stop thinking about earlier, even if it is for only a moment.

Her emotions still haven’t settled yet, not inwardly anyhow. She supposes that Mai had helped at least a little bit. Perhaps quite a lot actually. She will have to make a better effort to not be so hung up on the Boiling Rock. Mai is…Mai is still her friend. And after another lengthy discussion about that day and about motivations, she is inclined to believe that they had still been friends on said day even if they didn’t realize it.

Azula takes her hair out of its topknot, it reaches her lower back now and she wishes that she had her spa and shampoos. She wishes that she had her bed back, her palace back, her crown back. She wishes that she hadn’t lost.

She wishes that she could recover.

She thought that she was getting better, that she had made some steps forward.

It had taken just one argument to shatter the illusion.

She dips a toe into the water. It is cold water. She thinks that a swim in it would be rather comparable to being trapped under ice. And suddenly she doesn’t feel up for a bath, especially not a swamp bath.

It makes no sense that the water is so cold on such a humid day.

She doesn’t have the chance to dwell upon it. “Are you going to help us set up camp?” Suki asks.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re part of the group.”

“Only until you all get tired of me.”

“That’s not true.” Aang says gently. “I like having you around. I know that Mai does.”

“That’s because Mai is my friend. I talked to her because I wanted to, no coercion involved.”

“Why don’t you sit down and we can talk, I think that there’s a lot that needs to be said.”

“There’s a lot that you don’t need to know.”

“Or maybe you need to stop bottling up so many things. It never did Zuko any good and it’s not doing you favors either.” Katara comes to stand by Aang’s side.

They all want her to talk but they don’t actually want to deal with what she will say. They might not know it but she is certain that they don’t. She doesn’t even want to deal with it. She doesn’t want to deal with anything…

Her head hurts.

“Why do you hate talking about your feelings so much?”

“Because I know how it is.”

“How what is?” Suki asks.

Azula’s eyes burn. There it is, one of several questions that she doesn’t want to answer. The very sort that she had hoped to avoid in trusting Suki with her secret. The stupid, careless, loathsome woman. The burning in her throat is growing into a choking sensation with an alarming speed. “I know how it is; Zuko is good. I’m evil. It’s that simple. You all pretend like you care but that’s only because you think that flattery is going to work on me. Unfortunately for you all, that only works for father.” Her face is already burning with the admission but she can’t seem to hold her tongue, not when that miserable seed is pushing the truth forward. “What am I doing here? I’m not part of this group. I’ll never be a part of it. You think I don’t know what I am? I’m not a person, I’m a tool. Everyone uses me; Zuko to get information from father, Mai and TyLee only befriended me for status…” she winces, Mai is her only ally–they had just talked about this a second time–and she is throwing her under the wheels too. “Father used me. He wouldn’t have wanted me if he couldn’t have. And I’m only here now because you need my help.” She pauses, her breathing is heavy, erratic. “I bet that you don’t even feel like you’re using me do you? This is a debt. I owe you this for...for everything. You’ve just decided to frame it as some grand opportunity. A shot at redemption. But it’s not. It’s a debt, just let me pay it so I can get back to that institution and talking to things that aren’t there.” She clenches her fists.

The whole swamp falls into silence.

“Azula, that’s not true. You have to know that that’s not true.” Suki insists. Her desperation almost sounds believable. And maybe it is genuine but only as far as losing an asset goes.

“And you!” She snaps, “I hate you, probably more than anyone else here. ”

They look at her, a collection of horror and shock and she remembers that she can only speak the truth. She hadn’t said ‘hate’ at all. Quite the opposite. Apparently the seed can unearth secrets that she doesn’t even know she keeps.

Her cheeks go red and her stomach lurches. Her hands are shaking. Agni, she can’t recall a time when she had felt so vulnerable. She thinks that she had more control and dignity when she was chained to that grate.

She thinks that maybe she is better off at the Golden Scale. They treat her horrifically but the damage she manages to do to herself is significantly worse.

Her eyes meet Zuko’s.

He’s crying.

He’s crying as if he has the right to cry.

She supposes that one of them needs to. And she will leave him to it. They can go and comfort him, soothe and placate him, remind him that he is a gift to the nations and that he shouldn’t fret over what his horrible sister says to him.

Katara is already reaching out to him.

And Suki reaches out to her, but she doesn’t see it.

She has already turned her back on them.

She is already running, plans and deals be damned.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Suki #Azuki #Zuko #Mai #Aang #Sokka #Katara #Fanfiction

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kittyplayz1cantmsg4somereason · 3 years

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God, man, Minecraft Live always leaves me feeling really good. Like that’s some serotonin and dopamine right there, plus the little bit of adrenaline from the spookedy Deep Dark and man am I feeling like I’m on cloud nine.

My buddy and I immediately started yelling when we saw that Mumbo Jumbo was the one running (is that the right word?) the community preshow, it was so fun to watch! And I got so excited about Scott introducing that whole clip about MCC, and his little joke about being a Branding Nightmare.

I don’t even play dungeons, and that update segment on it was fun to watch and got me really really excited!

The deep dark looks like a horror game or a spooky mod, it’s fantastic, and even knowing the guy in charge of making it is literally the dude that made the aether mod it’s still above and beyond what I expected. Hate the screechers, looks like Multishot Crossbows full of fireworks are about to become necessities for explorers.

Speaking of exploring, CHEST IN A BOAT!! I’m so excited to have more ways to drag home all the loot I pick up exploring.

I cannot get over the new Mangrove Swamp, dude! The frogs are so cute, and I am absolutely obsessed with the little two pixel fireflies. The rest of it is a builder’s wet dream (ba dum tss), what with the new wood, mud, mud bricks, and now, renewable clay!!

And in the conclusion of the show, the one I wanted won the mob vote!! My little blue dancing fairy friend, the Allay!! Also Mojang is never letting the community live down voting for the phantom, and that’s endlessly funny to me.

Fuck drugs, this is the ultimate high: yelling about Minecraft on call with your friends.

#Minecraft #minecraft live #minecraft live 2021 #mineblr #Minecraft: The Wild Update #mc championship #mcc #minecraft championships #mumbo jumbo #scott smajor #that was so fun to watch!! I feel like I’m glowing ^-^

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aslitheryprinx · 3 years

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forbid frog climb

Frogs aren't really meant to climb.

Frog hybrids aren't either, but Tommy doesn't care what he is or isn't supposed to do.

He loves the swamp he lives in. He loves playing in the cool mud, swimming and splashing in the water, and eating the tasty fireflies that gather at night. Life is good.

But sometimes good is boring. Sometimes Tommy just wants to explore without his older brother breathing down his neck. He's never climbed any of the towering Mangrove trees that are scattered around the swamp.

Wilbur may have forbidden him from climbing past the roots, but what Wilbur doesn't know won't hurt him.

Unfortunately, frogs really aren't meant to climb. Tommy finds this out the hard way as his slippery hands lose their grip on the branch.

His heart leaps into his throat, and he barely has time to hope he lands in the water at least, before he hits something soft and warm.

He looks up and gasps. What looks like a human is holding him in cupped hands. They'd saved him.

Their hands were warm and calloused, and their face was blank. Long pink hair fell past their broad shoulders. Tommy couldn't help but be intimidated.

"You should be more careful," the human told him dryly. Tommy squeaked as he was lowered to the ground, and he hopped behind a root to hide.

The human huffed a little, then turned, walking away. Despite his brush with death, Tommy felt curiosity bubbling up inside him.

Another of Wilbur's rules was not to get too close to humans. But he'd be so sneaky, the human wouldn't even know he was there!

Besides. What Wilbur didn't know couldn't hurt him.

#mcyt g/t #three word prompts #aslitheryanswers

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fallingnebulae · 3 years

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sorry to all but the like three people who follow me for minecraft but here's some mc live thoughts because holy shit

this is all off the top of my head btw so if i miss anything that's not my problem

the deep dark

holy shit. like i don't even have words for this just holy shit? the abandoned cities overgrown by the skulks and whatever... genuinely horrifying, i love it. and like? all the ideas of stuff to do with noise sensing blocks? the fact that you can break blocks for xp? i'm genuinely so overwhelmed by all of this and particularly with the warden incredibly excited for the whole new aspect this adds to minecraft - vanilla minecraft has never really had a sort of "this area is dangerous and everything wants to kill you and you need to be super super careful" area - even the nether and end are pretty chill if you have gold armour and have killed the dragon

but this?

the deep dark is like, endgame content. you can have all the gear in the world and you just need to be super super quiet and sneaky, and even with endgame items you're fucked if you wake up the warden. it's horrifying and stupidly awesome and i am really really excited for it

and smth else is that the cities have loot in them, and tbh? i'm a little bit disappointed by what was shown, iirc it was very similar to what you'd find in like a regular dungeon? i could be wrong but i feel like bastions and definitely end cities have far better loot for, really, less risk - but idk that could be wrong

swamps

so with swamps we're getting new trees, new wood & leaves, mud blocks (including bricks) frogs (!!!!!!!) and chest boats

the trees? super cool, but honestly there's something that puts me off with them - they don't seem really that vanilla. something that annoys me with a lot of plugins that allow for "custom world gen/realistic world gen" is that it makes worlds look, well, cool, but really difficult in a survival situation. in mc the simplicity i feel like is a core part of vanilla mc, the ability to go to a desert and just dig up a fuck tonne of sand without crashing into bits of sandstone and cobble that are there purely for aesthetics, and in forests trees are easy to cut down and simply shaped. mangroves are going to be a pain in the arse, i feel like, to cut down, and i think they've kind of sacrificed the simplicity of vanilla mc for aesthetics here - all well and good for mobs, but i'm not a fan

the wood itself is just ugly - it's a mix between acacia and jungle and i'm really, really not a fan of it - honestly i wish we'd get more colours of wood that are like, a wee bit less realistic. my favourite wood of all time is willow which i think is in biomes o plenty? and idk i think a green or a white one, while not necessarily realistic, toe the line pretty well between minecraft's realism and lack thereof, while also giving us a block that we've not actually had before. i'm pretty meh on the leaves though, they're whatever

mud!!1 oh my god i LOVE the mud blocks and bricks, i love how they'll fit in so well with so many colour palettes - soul soil and mud at the bottom of a river would look incredible, and the new renewable clay mechanism is sick as well, and could probably make getting terracotta a lot easier if you don't have a mesa nearby. the mud bricks on their own are awesome but the different texture to normal stone bricks makes me feel like there's going to be some amazing pathways bc of this addition

frogs??? i don't have much to say about these apart from Oh My God I Am In Love, but they also kind of make me wish that mojang would go back and update some of the simpler mob textures just a wee bit - i feel like there's such a stark difference between like polar bears and frogs and foxes compared to cows and zombies and pigs. idk though they're awesome and they eat fireflies!! jsdfhsdhdf that's a) v cute and b) oh my god lighting??? the lighting you'd be able to do with possible firefly jars??? and candles? i could cry

chest boats are pretty cool i don't rly have much to say on them tbh

also as an added end note i wasn't there at the start of the live but i do like the new generation in the world of caves and mountains and stuff, and i don't rly remember what was said about this but the concept art shown of birch forests was also rly cool but yeah not much thoughts on that just thumbs up

#minecraft #minecraft live #mc

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koeningzine · 3 years

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SWAMP LEGEND by Stephanie Dogfoot

They said they had raised a city out of a malaria-infested swamp. That where skyscrapers now loomed once stood stagnant water, insects, mud. How all the island had once been half-submerged, shrouded in moss and algae and knobbly-kneed roots rising out of the water. The unending smell of rot and damp. How the skies used to be darker, how the mangrove trees blocked out the sunlight. The swarms of mosquitoes that lay in wait to consume people. The mud lobsters that built towers the size of men out of soil and snipped off the toes of children wandering past in flip flops. The burbling spots of grey quicksand that people had to be careful not to fall into. The pythons that slithered silently into people’s bathroom windows. The mudskippers with sharp spikes on their backs. 100-kilo wild boars that roamed the neighbourhoods in gangs. Saltwater crocodiles that circled the stilt houses people built to live over the water, waiting for a dog or the occasional toddler to fall in. There were so many ways to die in the swamp. Be grateful, they told the children and grandchildren of the city, you have no idea what it was like.

They sang worship songs to the machines that dug up roots, drowned animals, wrote epics about the years they had spent draining the swamp, the giant vacuums they used to suck every drop of water out. How the crocodiles and pythons were rounded up and sent to live in waterless cement pools on farms where they were bred so their scales could be turned into handbags. The wild boar rounded up to feed the reptile skin farms. The lobsters’ mud towers knocked down and the lobsters turned into local cuisine, never again to cut off children’s toes. The quicksand was tamed, dredged up and mixed with lime and moulded into skyscrapers. The last mudskipper was steamed with chilli oil. The mosquitoes and insects that hovered around the swamp spreading disease were extinguished with powerful new chemicals. The mangroves were cut down, and suddenly the whole island was bathed in sunlight. The new dry land turned into farmland, then factories, then cityscape. Every year the city prospered more and more.

And every year they told their children stories about the swamp that they defeated, the one they must never return to, the one they should be grateful for getting rid of. They told their children they had no idea how good they had it, how awful things had been before. How they had to be thankful that their forefathers had the foresight and genius to tame their island, to transform their mosquito-ridden swamp into a metropolis. And every year the stories grew a little bit more exaggerated, and the swamp was painted to look a little bit more horrific. Soon stories of how bloodthirsty crocodiles entered people’s houses, snapped tables in half with their jaws, ravaged entire families. Pythons squeezed the breath out of sleeping villagers before swallowing them whole. The mud lobsters grew to the size of tigers, kidnapped children and held them hostage in their towers. The quicksand was now the size of football fields, yet somehow hard to spot and easy to fall into, and consumed 100-200 people a year. The wild boar gangs regularly charged into people and ate babies in their cots.

History textbooks were mandated to include these horror stories in the first five pages of their first chapter and explain how the real history started the year the last drop of swamp was sucked away. Occasionally, someone who recalled life in the swamp would start telling stories about how they lived with the swamp, suggesting how things may have been quite as bad as everyone said, but they were laughed away or called dissidents. Soon, the last citizen who remembered the swamp passed on and the mythical spectre of the swamp was soon vastly more terrifying than the swamp itself had ever been.

No one could remember when people started disappearing in the city. Newspaper reports of babies being snatched in their sleep. People waking up to find their partners dead of strangulation. How sinkholes started appearing in the cement, started swallowing cars, buses, small houses. No one remembers the first time an underground rush hour train got derailed, and disappeared down a mysterious tunnel never to be seen again. The rumours of a giant crocodile escaping from its cement pen, twice the size of a wild crocodile after being fed a regular diet of supersized, selectively-bred boar. The viral photos, possibly fake, of giant wild boar gangs going through people’s rubbish. Mysterious cuts on people’s legs as they slept. A mysterious outbreak of a new kind of mosquito-borne infection despite the fact that mosquitoes had been wiped out decades earlier. Children waking up screaming with bloody feet and missing toes. Some of these were proven to be myths, but it was so much more exciting to believe they were true. The stories would always be far more terrifying and easier to swallow.

In later years, they would come to call this a national case of mass hysteria. Everyone knew someone, or someone who knew someone who had mysteriously disappeared, or been mysteriously harmed in their sleep. The people began to blame each other. What else was there left to blame? It had to be created by people. People controlled the whole island, every inch of it had been drained, torn up and rebuilt in their image. It must have been this type of person, or that other type of person, but really, probably these people. There was no way they could keep going with all these disappearances and random deaths. It had to be someone’s fault.

It could always be worse, though, the people said, at least we’re not living in a swamp.

Stephanie Dogfoot

Stephanie Dogfoot is a writer, performer and producer from Singapore. They founded and run a poetry event called Spoke & Bird. Their first collection, Roadkill for Beginners (Math Paper Press, 2021) explores coming of age, desire, found family and falling in love with places in Singapore, Ohio and London. You can find their tweets at @stephdogfoot.

#issue 1 #prose #stephanie dogfoot

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deathsmallcaps · 3 years

Text

@boopboopboopbadoop

April’s Story

Shrek premiered 20 years ago this month! So I decided to honor it with my own illustrated version of the movie for my Win A Commission Contest! If you’d like to see the illustrations in context with the text, please

Once upon a time, there was a lovely Princess

But she had an enchantment upon her of an awful sort, that could only be broken by True Love's First Kiss

She was Locked away in a tower, guarded by a terrible fire-breathing Dragon

Many brave Knights had attempted to free from this dreadful prison, but none prevailed

She waited in the Dragon's keep, in the tallest room of the tallest tower. Where she waited for her True Love and True Love's First Kiss...

A large green hand ripped a page from the Book and revealed another part involving the whole kingdom celebrating on the Princess and her True Love's wedding day, laughing heartily as he slammed it shut.

"Like that's ever gonna happen!" A Scottish voice said dismissively. "What a load of-" A flush of a Toilet drowned out the last part of the sentence.

We look and see an outhouse. It was made of white birch wood, lashed together with a rope for a handle and a black crescent moon facing the right. There was some hanging moss on the tilted roof growing and a pathway of stones, weeds crowding in between. It was set right in front of a thick wood, facing towards a house. The strange thing about all of this is that the outhouse had plumbing with a flushing toilet.

The door slammed open, revealing no Prince Charming nor a Frog, but an Unlikely Hero: an Ogre. Yawning and stretching out before fixing his wedgie, he shook off a ripped page that was sticking to his shoe and stared at his house.

He lived in a giant, white, hollowed out mangrove tree, the trunk thinning out into a perfect chimney. Moss, ivy and weeds grew all around or on top of it, and there was a crude door and some small windows set into the side.

The Ogre breathed in and left the outhouse with the door slamming behind him as he began his day.

Using a bucket and scraping up some mud, he carried it over to a branch. The ogre undressed and pulled on a rope, causing the mud to pour onto him. He made an “Oof!” sound when it first hit him, but continued scrubbing himself with the mud like it was soap. He drank the last dregs of the mud and then spat it out, ending the shower.

Then the Ogre brushed his teeth. He grabbed a red caterpillar, and squeezing it like a tube of toothpaste, pushed its innards onto a bone. He scrubbed well, getting the insides of his teeth, then the outsides. It turned his already unhealthy teeth greener, and the putrid goo shown in his hideous smile caused his mirror to shatter and fall onto the floor.

Next, he plunged himself into a lake and made a huge splash, turning himself right and getting ready; the Ogre let out a loud, horrendous and terrible gaseous fart that bubbled behind him. Feeling relieved and making an “innocent” pose with his finger to his lip, he turned to see that there was not one, not two but three red salmon floating up to the surface; murdered by the deadliness of the stench that continued to plague the rest of the underwater native wildlife. He grabbed the one next to him and proceeded to leave.

Later army crawling into a hollowed husk of a fallen tree, pointing diagonally skywards, the Ogre pushed out a ton of mud as he climbed his way forward like a commando in the trenches of a battlefield. The final mud slopped out as his stained face popped out.

He smiled as he found a green slug right outside the tree trunk. The Ogre grabbed it and the slug squirmed in alarm as it was picked up by a giant green hand, leaving the small maggots once underneath the slug exposed to the air.

Closer to sunset, near a lake with verdant hills in the distance, the Ogre began painting a new sign. Having picked out a broken off- plank of moldy wood form his outhouse, he didn’t bother with a base coat of white. He spent several hours painting. Once he finished, the Ogre placed his palette down, took a good look at his newest masterpiece, and out of sheer joy of satisfaction he kissed the ogre in the picture on the lips. It left red paint all across his lips as he posted it next to an older sign that said, "STAY OUT". It was a rather hideous portrayal of his face with red eyes and red writing that stated, “BEWARE OGRE".

After The Ogre had ate his fishy and sluggy dinner and had lit a fire with the strength of his belch, he sat back on the crocodile flesh recliner. Just as he was settling in, the Ogre's tiny trumpet ears picked up a disturbance in the Swamp.

It was the sounds of people trespassing. With a groan he lurched to his feet and glanced out his window, spotting a group of Ogre Hunters in the far distance, mostly visible due to their torches. Within moments, the Ogre snuck outside his home and was tiptoeing behind them.

The Ogre Hunters, dressed mostly in green and sporting crappy haircuts, pushed aside the tall grass and foliage as they watched the Swamp House, lit from within by The Ogre’s Belch-Fire.

"Think it's in there?" The one with a bowl cut asked

"Alright... let's get it!" The one in the a tall hat declared, holding a torch and about to make a charge forward before he was stopped short by the one with the mustache next to him.

"Hold on, you know what that thing could do to you?" the mustached one said with fear.

"Yeah, it'll grind your bones for it's bread!" The one with the bowl cut told him.

They all froze when a loud chuckle echoed behind them.

Turning around, they saw the Ogre towering over them. He spoke in an almost friendly manner, but what he said was the opposite of friendly. “Ha, yes, well actually; that would be a giant!" He exclaimed, causing the men to back off. The Ogre stepped forward each time they stepped back. "Now Ogres, oh.. they're much worse! They'll make a suit from your freshly peeled skin!"

"No!" A man was horrified

"They'll shave your livers!"

“No!”

"And squeeze the jelly from your eyes!" The Ogre Hunters were cornered as the Ogre added, thoughtfully, "Actually it's quite good on toast."

The bearded Ogre Hunter swung torch at The Ogre’s face. "Back! Back, beast! Back! I warn ya!"

The Ogre simply raised an eyebrow before calmly licking his fingers and putting out his torch with a pinch and a smile.

"Right..." the Ogre Hunter dropped the extinguished torch.

The Ogre let loose an horrible and fearsome ear bursting roar directly into the faces of the cowering Ogre Hunters. Spit flew in their faces as their hair and hats were thrown back. They screamed in response as their torches extinguished as the roar continued. After a long moment, he stopped and wiped his mouth, but the Hunters continued to scream; when they finally stopped they looked like their wits had long been scared out of them.

The Ogre leaned in and whispered to them as the crickets and other hidden wildlife in the night went on in the silence. "This is the part where you run away..."

With a yelp they immediately dropped all their pitchforks and weapons and bolted out of the swamp as the Ogre chortled to himself. The bowl cut Ogre Hunter tripped but kept running in desperation.

The Ogre laughed whole heartily and yelled after the retreating party. "And stay out!"

A piece of paper they must’ve left behind caught his attention. He picked it up, and saw that it had the face of a solemn elf with a green leaf hat and white beard. There were bags of gold drawn around it, but no explicit price was given, just the word, “Reward” written in red. Above it he read, "Wanted: Fairy Tale Creatures...".

He realized they had wanted to capture him for the reward money. He looked towards the fleeing villagers in disgust and shook his head, throwing the paper to the ground as he went back inside to spend the rest of the night in peace.

The next day, as part of his new plan to get people to leave him alone, The Ogre set up some new new signs, even farther from his home. Just as he was setting up his last one (it had a green skull with the words ‘Keep Out!’ in the pupils), something ran into his butt.

The Ogre turned around to face what appeared to be a terrified mini-donkey.

Someone yelled, "He's getting away! Get him!" and the sounds of guards in armor scared the little donkey into hiding behind The Ogre. "This way! Turn!"

The local Captain of the Guard and his men ran up, stopping when they all saw the tall Ogre who stood before them. "You there... Ogre" The Captain grabbed a scroll his waist

"Aye?" Was The Ogre’s reply, hands on his hips and now seemingly irritated that his day was once again involving contact with humans.

"By the order of Lord Farquaad... I am authorized to place you both under arrest and transport you to a designated resettlement... facility...?" The Captain's voice was shaking and nervous due to the face that the Ogre was walking towards him slowly, now standing right in front of him as a deafening silence fell.

"Oh really?" He asked, leaning down so he was face to face with the Captain. "You and what army?" He asked as his teeth glittered with a smile, glancing behind him.

The Captain turned around to see what was once left of his men as their halberds fell down and a shield spun around onto the ground like a coin. He turned back to the Ogre; the mini-donkey smiled as the Captain took his men's example and made a run for it.

Now that confrontation is over with, the Ogre shook his head and walked away; but the mini-donkey had nowhere else to go and decided to follow his accidental savior. He trotted behind him.

"Can I say something to you?" He asked with the Ogre walking on. "Listen, you were really, really, really somethin' back here. Incredible!"

Now fully irritated, The Ogre turned around. "Are you talkin' to..." The Ogre saw no one else, just the ground lit by the sunlight within the forest of the tall trees. The voice was clearly gone. "Me?" He blinked and shrugged, turning before giving out a startled yell as the Donkey now stood before him.

"Yes I was talkin' to you. Can I tell you that you was great back here? Those guards! They thought they were all of that. Then you showed up and bam!" The little donkey caught up to The Ogre before getting up onto his hoofs in front of The Ogre and made a martial arts move with his right hoof, stopping him again. "They were trippin' over themselves like babes in the wood. I loved seeing that, made me feel happy seeing that"

"Oh, that's great. Really." The Ogre sarcastically replied

"Man, it's good to be free!" The burrito declared as the Ogre turned to him.

"Now, why don't you go celebrate your freedom with own friends? Hmm?" He suggested, leaning down to the little donkey, before walking off again.

"But... I don't have any friends, and I'm NOT going out there by myself!" Exclaimed the creature. A flash of inspiration came to him. "Hey wait a minute, I got a great idea! I'll stick with you" Donkey returned happily to the Ogre, deaf to his annoyance. "You're a mean green fighting machine! With you, we'll scare the spit out of anybody who crosses us!"

The Ogre halted and regarded Donkey for a moment. Then seemingly out of the blue, he fully turned and gave off an all might roar right into the animal’s face; hoping this would scare him.

The mini-donkey just stared, now with an impressed look drawn on his face. "Oh, wow! That was really scary!"

The Ogre just frowned and stomped away.

"Now if that doesn’t work, your breath will certainly get the job done, 'cause you definitely need some Tic Tacs or something 'cause your breath STINKS!"

The Ogre continued walking, but then looked back when he didn’t hear the none-stop chatterbox for about five seconds, to his relief and hope that he lost the annoyance.

To his irritation and surprise, the donkey appeared looking down at him from above; atop of a fallen tree over The Ogre’s path.

"You almost burned the hair outta my nose, just like the time..."

The Ogre covered the donkey's mouth, muffling his little obnoxious tale. The donkey still did not shut up as he kept it held there; continuing to talk either way; The Ogre removed his hand. "Then I ate some berries, man I had some strong gasses leaking out of my butt that day!"

"WHY are you following me?!" The Ogre asked, losing patience; nothing could shut this donkey up and he just needed to get away right now.

"I'll tell you why!" The animal leaped off the tree as he followed the Ogre, before breaking out into obnoxious song. "Cause I'm all alone, there's no here beside meeeee." He stopped in front of the Ogre as he wiggled his butt, the Ogre's right eye was half closed and his left eye was twitching in madness as the mini-donkey continued. "My problems have all gone, there's no one to deride me... but you gotta have faith-"

"Stop singing!" The Ogre yelled, he grabbed the burrito by the ears and tail as he moved him out of his way. "It's no wonder you don't have any friends!"

"Wow, only a true friend would be that truly honest!" The small donkey claimed.

The Ogre only groaned "Listen, little donkey. Take a look at me: What am I?" He held out his arms and stood tall before him.

The burrito looked from the Ogre's shoes to his head, whose face looked irritated while he thought to himself. "Really tall?" was his first guess. The mini-donkey wasn’t sure what The Ogre was asking.

"No! I'm an Ogre, you know. ‘Grab your torch and Pitchforks!’ Doesn't that bother you?" He imitated an Ogre Hunter before asking.

Donkey shook his head

"Nope." came the response

"Really?" The Ogre was a bit surprised.

"Really, really" The creature happily assured.

"Oh," The Ogre was not too sure on what to say next.

"Man, I like you, what's your name?"

The Ogre looked a little surprised. For all his time living alone in the Swamp, no one had ever asked him of his name. He had always been The Ogre, not a true individual to the people around him.

"Uhh... Shrek." He replied after a moment, before continuing his walk home.

"Shrek?" Th little donkey echoed, seeing if he got it right before following the now and forever named Ogre himself. "Well, you know what I like about you Shrek? You got that kind of I-don't-care-what-nobody-thinks-of-me-thing I like that. I respect that Shrek. You all right."

He continued to follow Shrek up the hill as they came overhead across a small grassy meadow hill above that overlooked Shrek's Swamp. Donkey (for that was his name) stared looked at the scene before him.

"Whoa! Look at that. Who'd want to live in a place a like that?" He asked with a hint of disgust, mostly discomfort, in his voice.

"That... would be my home" Shrek claimed, his hands on his hips before heading down the other side of the hill.

Donkey could only blink in response, he had really put his hoof in it now. "Oh! And it is lovely! Just beautiful. You know you are quite a decorator. It's amazing what you've done with such a modest budget!"

Shrek only shook his head as he continued downwards.

"I like that boulder, that is a nice boulder." Donkey followed him down. He continued after Shrek once again and stopped in front of the three signs: "BEWARE OGRE", "STAY OUT" and "DANGER". Donkey took a look at each of them all and asked,"I guess you don't uh.. entertain that much do you?"

"I like my privacy." Shrek claimed as he kept walking to his front door, Donkey trotting after him.

"You know, I do too. That's another thing we have in common. Like I hate it when you got somebody in your face. You've trying to give them a hint and they won't leave. Then there's that big awkward silence you know?"

Shrek turned to face him, silently willing Donkey to understand that the creature had just described their exact situation.

"Can I stay with you?" Clearly Donkey did not receive the hint.

"Uh, what?"

"Can I stay with you, please?" He added in the magic word.

"Of course!" Shrek declared lightheartedly as he smiled.

"Really?" Donkey asked.

"No." Shrek bluntly denied.

"PLEASE! I don't wanna go back there! You know what it's like to be living like a freak!" Donkey reconsidered for a moment as he looked at the large green humanoid before him as he pushed Shrek onto his front door with his hooves. "Well, maybe you do. But that's why we gotta stick together! You gotta let me stay, please, please!" Donkey was getting hysterical.

"OKAY! Okay..." Donkey dropped to the floor as Shrek opened his door inwards as he gave his one little stipulation. "But one night only." He was about to enter before Donkey bolted in.

"Ah! Thank you!"

"What are you...?" Donkey leapt onto Shrek's crocodile skin recliner. "No, no!"

"This is gonna be fun! We can stay up late, swappin' manly stories and in the mornin," He trotted around on the chair before sitting down as he finished with: "I'm makin' waffles!"

"Oh!" Shrek groaned as he held his hands out, as though he was planning to strangle the noisy intruder.

Donkey looked around and asked him. "Where do, uh... I sleep?"

"Outside!" Shrek screamed irritably.

Donkey's ears drooped upon hearing that response. "Oh, well, I guess that's cool. I mean, I don't know you and you don't know me, so I guess outside is best, you know. Here I go." He sniffled as got off his recliner and walked out sadly,"Goodnight..." He told him as Shrek slammed the door on him.

The mini-donkey kept talking, of course. "You know, I do like the outdoors. I'm a Donkey. I was born outside. I'll just be sitting by myself outside, I guess, you know. By myself, outside!"

Shrek looked out before shaking his head and sighing to himself, walking away from the door to enjoy himself for the rest of the day as Donkey began singing the same annoyingsong again; although more sorrowfully.

"I'm all alone, there's no one here besides me..."

That night, as the cauldron hanging by chains over the firepit bubbled solemnly; Shrek was enjoying himself with a nice dinner while Donkey was locked outside of his home. He dropped a eye on a stick into his martini glass and slurped it down as he looked at his dinner before him. There was a slug with orange eyes, what appeared to be green grapes, a jar of eyes, spice, worm stuffed pumpkin and a nice large piece of cooked skinless meat on his plate.

These were the times he enjoyed the most out of his solitary life, he was home, nice and warm and he wasn't bothered by anyone at all. Though he had to pause and glance at his front door. Shrek had ... mixed feelings about his new acquaintance. He talked WAY too much, but he was also the first person in a very long time to actually treat Shrek like a person.

He shook his head and sighed, scooting in further to his table as he felt that there was just something missing from the layout of the table. The man he figured out what ir was. He brought his hand to his ear and started to pull hard and painfully as the earwax built up came out like a spear and placed it atop a candle platform; lighting the wick made of ear hair afterwards with a match. Now he can enjoy his meal alone.

The same could not be said for Donkey, who peeked sadly into the window before making his way back to the front door. He laid down as he smiled bittersweetly and went to sleep at his new friend's doorstep.

Shrek continued to eat and enjoy his meal until the sound of his door creaking interrupted his silence.

He put his fork and knife on the table as he got up. "I thought I told you to stay outside." He was hoping to shove Donkey back outside, if that was what had come in.

"I am outside." Donkey’s voice came from the window.

In confusion, Shrek turned and saw a shadow move across the wall. Who was now moving around near his table? He returned and observed it. Everything was normal underneath the table, but then he heard voices from above.

"Well, gents, it's a farcry from the farm, but what choice do we have?" A blind mouse asked, tripping over Shrek's fork.

"It's not home, but it'll do just fine!" The second of the blind mice knocked over the jar full of eyeballs, spilling out the contents.

"What a lovely bed" The third of the blind mice was bouncing on the Slug, Shrek immediately caught him.

"Got ya!" However it escaped his grasp.

"I found some cheese" the third mouse said, biting Shrek's left ear.

"OW!" He cried in pain, grabbing at the mouse again who was now on his other shoulder.

"Blah! Awful stuff!" The tiny rodent jumped down onto the spoon and inadvertently launched a piece of gravy towards Shrek's left eye, which he wiped away immediately.

"Is that you Gordon?" One of them asked.

"How did you know?" A different one asked back.

"Enough!" Shrek grabbed all three of them by the tail, flipping the wooden spoon off the left side of the table as he turned his back and demanded angrily.

"What are you doing in my house?" The dinner on his table was then violently shoved off and Shrek's back was hit with an gold and glass fashioned coffin, labeled, ‘Here lies Snow White, under the curse by the Poison Apple infected by the Sleeping Death curse’.

"Hey!" He turned and saw the Seven Dwarves, one of the waved at Shrek.

"Oh, no, no, no. Dead broad OFF the table!" He shoved her coffin back to the Dwarves

"Where are we supposed to put her? The Bed's taken!" They shoved the coffin back to him.

"Huh?" Shrek stopped short. He hurried to his bed and opened the curtain separating the rooms and gasped. There laid comfortably and in grandmother's clothing, was a wolf of all creatures.

"What?" The Wolf asked irritably.

Shrek was now on the verge of rage, he dragged the Wolf out of bed and held him in the air through his house as the Seven Dwarves made themselves comfortable.

"I live in a swamp, I put up signs! I'm a terrifying Ogre!" He shoved his door open outwards. "What do I have to do to get a little privacy?!" He screamed as he threw the Wolf out of his house.

Then he saw a sight that would haunt him forever. "Oh no... oh no!" Shrek bellowed.

His Swamp. His lovely, silent, peaceful Swamp was no longer the way he intended it to be. It was now swarming with many, many Fairytale Creatures; many, many beings now living in his precious Swamp. Even the old woman brought her entire shoe to his Swamp, with many children running around. Tents were set up, fairies roamed around in the air, Pinocchio and a short yellow elf with a cone shaped hat were arguing and many people were conversing with each other.

“No!" A witch flew past him. "NO!" He screamed out, three more witches came zooming past him and Shrek had to jump for cover as they came flying down with elves helping them land.

"Wha?" Shrek turned his head to the side with the old woman hanging her clothes with a child and two other children pushing each other.

"Hey, don't push!" A girl in the blue shrieked.

The Pied Piper in red was calling over rats with his flute while many other Fairytale Creatures were waiting in line towards Shrek's Outhouse.

In the meantime, Papa and Baby Bear were sitting by the fire, the latter upset and being comforted by his father; no Mama Bear in sight, as many other Fairytale Creatures warmed themselves up by the fire before them. Elves, Lepricons, Dwarves, Fairies, Witches, Pigs, Wolves, a Unicorn and any Fairytale Creature you can think of were all there in Shrek's Swamp; shattering his peace.

"What are you doing in my Swamp?!" Shrek roared out as he got up, his voice echoed all over the sound of his Swamp; everyone and everything came an abrupt half as it was followed by screams and gasps. The Dwarves who held bowls to be fed with soup from the cauldron by the witch dropped them, the three fairies of Sleeping Beauty flew in the tent to hide and two Dwarves ducked out of sight and appeared holding each other out of fear behind a branch.

Shrek wasn't going to have all this; he eyed everyone and began to walk to some Elves and Dwarves. "Alright, get out of here. All of you, move it! Come on! Let's go! Hapaya! Hapaya! Hey! Quickly, come on!" He shooed them all backwards but some of the Dwarves and fairies ran into his home as Shrek turned back. "No, no! No, no. Not there, not there!" He ran after them as they slammed the door on him and a little green fairy, the door now unable to open despite his best efforts.

He stopped and turned to face the large group before them, especially on Donkey.

"Hey don't look at me, I didn't invite them!" Donkey replied.

"Oh, gosh, no one invited us" Pinocchio confirmed.

"What?!" Shrek came over, demanding to know what happened.

"We were forced to come here" He told the Ogre.

"By who?" He was flabbergasted until one of the Three Pigs told him.

“Lord Farquaad. He huffed and he puffed and he... signed an eviction notice." His brothers nodded in agreement.

"Alright. Who knows where this Farquaad guy is?" Shrek asked.

Everyone looked around at each other with no answer, until Donkey answered. "Oh, I do. I know where he is!"

"Does anybody ELSE know where to find him? Anyone at all?" Shrek was desperate to not to go with Donkey of all people.

"Me! Me!" Donkey tried to get his attention, jumping comically into the air. Baby Bear held his paw up, but was stopped by his father.

"Anyone?" Big Bad Wolf and a Green Wizard pointed to each other while Donkey continued

"Oh! Oh, pick me! Oh, I know! I know! Me, me!"

"Okay... fine." He reigned himself to being annoyed; Shrek knew that he would either go with Donkey or risk asking a human. "Attention, all Fairytale... things. Do not get comfortable, your welcome is officially worn out. In fact, I'm going to see this guy Farquaad right now and get you all off my land and back where you came from!" He pointed to the left before the entire crowd went wild.

Shrek shook his head and groaned before walking, four birds draping him in a flower cloak. "Doh!" He swatted them away as he sharply pointed directly at Donkey. "You. You're comin' with me" He told him darkly as he shoved the cape off him and started walking, the birds returning and dropping a flower crown on his head.

"Alright, that's what I like to hear man: Shrek and Donkey, two stalwart friends, off on a whirlwind big-city adventure. I love it!" Donkey rushed after the ogre.

Shrek tried to grab torch from a Dwarf while walking. He refused to let go, so Shrek simply shook him and then dropped the dwarf into the water where the dwarf resurfaced moments later.

"On the road again, sing it with me, Shrek. I can't to get on the road again!"

“What did I say about singing?" Shrek sharply turned to Donkey and grabbed his flower crown before throwing it off of him. They crossed a log that bridged the area between Shrek’s little island and the rest of the swamp.

"Can I whistle?" Donkey asked.

"No."

"Can I hum it?"

"Alright, hum it."

Donkey continued to hum ‘On the Road Again’ while Shrek

focused on the road ahead.

The two heroes marched off into the woodlands while being waved off by all creatures.

Art Explanation

So, it’s obvious I copied the title from the movie! It sure did make my life easier!

And I used a lot of references for my pictures. I hoped to make them true to the movie as possible.

The second picture is possibly my favorite, although I didn’t enjoy drawing all the scenery. It isn’t my specialty.

The third picture was fun! I remember being very jealous of Shrek’s belch power when I was little, lol.

To be honest, the fourth picture was my least favorite. It felt too busy.

The fifth picture is my other favorite, because it has Donkey!

The last picture was hard, for sure. I wanted to ge their reflections right, and not make the background look too crappy. It’s hard to adapt things from such a dark scene. But I think it turned out alright, although the scaling is a little funny :).

So, I was hoping to not have to write out these scenes myself, because it’s ten whole minutes of a movie and let me tell you, it’s hard to do from scratch. Luckily, I found a version, which I’ve left a link for below. I just polished it a bit.

Anyways, I hope you’ve enjoyed!

SOURCE

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/450448/1/Shrek-Adaptation

#shrek #shrek 20th anniversary #shrek twentieth anniversary #win a commission #wac

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meetthetank · 3 years

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Cruciamen Chapter 6: The Bog

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, Other Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), Emil (NieR: Automata), Kainé (Nier) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, genre typical violence, On the Run, Monster of the Week, 9S is a half demon, 2B and A2 are shapeshifter Dragons, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut in the future, inaccurate depictions of medical procedures, Fantasy Biology, A2 is Nonbinary

A2 has never flown this fast in all their life. A horrible blistering wind whips behind the gelatinous demon that soars ahead of them. No longer the searing heat of the desert (they lost track of when the terrain changed from sand to swamp), it stings their eyes even through their second eyelids, but that is of little concern to them now. All they want is to sink their teeth into Hegel's flesh and spill its tainted blood onto the earth. They push their body to its limit, each wingbeat pushing them as far and as fast as possible.

The demon employs all manner of foul defenses to keep A2 from reaching it. Whenever they close in, it expels a burst of air that threatens to knock them out of the sky. Each time they maneuver in place for a dive, it either lashes out with one of its tentacles or fires off energy beams at them. Though the wound has since healed, the phantom sting of burnt flesh is strong. They’d rather swerve out of the way and be set back than suffer that again.

That changes once they manage to tear at Hegel’s flesh with a talon.

The moment they feel their claws pierce the demon’s skin something snaps within them. Fury and hate consume their body and sings through their blood. Their muscles scream against the surge of raw power that courses through them. They put all their energy into a frantic burst of speed, closing the gap between them and Hegel. A flurry of panicked blasts of energy singe their wings and scales, but the pain fails to stop them. In fact, the more their body begs for them to stop, the harder they push themself. The pain fuels the bloodlust in a violent feedback loop.

With a burst of speed A2 closes the last few feet between them and Hegel. They don’t slow down, not even when they make contact with the demon’s flesh. Their beak pierces through the skin of one of its bulbous sacks, their whole head sinking inside. A rush of foul air escapes through the tears A2 leaves with their teeth and claws. It stings at their eyes and makes their stomach turn violently, but still they persist.

They wrench their head free from the deflating sack of air as the demon screams. It begins to sink in the sky, having lost some of its buoyancy. Good, they’re on their way to grounding the demon, but it’s not enough. Not even close. They need to make this thing bleed. A2 claws their way to another sack of air and sinks their teeth into it before Hegel can recover from the first impact. A strip of the membranous tissue remains stuck in their beak, a small bit the demon��s blood dripping down their throat. It tastes sickly sweet, like overripe fruits.

Hegel bellows, a horrid sound that shakes A2 to their core. The sound itself seems to make the wind tremble. If it weren’t for this hysteric strength A2 wouldn’t have been able to hold onto the demon. Its tentacles whip and slap at them as much as it can, but only the tips can reach them for now.

Neither A2 nor Hegel notice the fast approaching treeline till the demon crashes into the canopy of mangrove trees. Both launch forward into the mass of vegetation and dead branches. Disoriented, A2 throws their wings and legs out to slow their fall but the world spins around them. They can’t see anything beyond blurs of green and brown. Occasionally their claws will rake against the bark of a branch or trunk but the speed of their fall rips them from the tree.

A splash reaches their ears just before they hit the surface of a stagnant pool of water. They thrash against everything, the vines and roots, the mud, the water itself, and their own body, to breach the surface. The moment they do they inhale as much as they can, but only gulp down mouthfuls of mud and water. Their claws catch on a thick bundle of roots and pull themself up out of the muck. It sticks to their feathers, pressing them down against their skin. They shake themself off as quickly as they can and scratch the grime from their eyes so they can get their bearings. Trees, water, lots of hanging vegetation, and the bulbous mass of Hegel rising out of the murk.

With a roar, A2 launches at the demon, leaping from mangrove trunk to trunk. With the mud caking on their feathers and how dense the trees are it's impossible for them to fly. It’s much slower but it’s their only option. Well, the only option they can think off with bloodlust clouding their mind.

“FOOL!” Hegel screams, exposing rows of flat teeth, “Do you realize what you’ve done?!”

The only answer the demon gets is a roar. A2 didn’t expect Hegel to speak in any capacity, much less in a language they could understand. It didn’t matter what this beast was saying anyway. A2 is deaf to anything besides the thunder of blood in their ears.

“Idiot reptile! You’ve killed us both!!”

Hegel’s teeth grind together, the sound rattling through A2’s bones. Whether it was just how the vile creature spoke or if it was preparing some sort of audio attack, it didn’t matter. A2 lunges at its body, forcing it to stumble backward into the mud once again. It rockets for the treetops with A2 close behind it, but the foul air that propels it sputters out well before it reaches its destination. They slash and bite at its tentacles and flesh, trying to cripple it further. A thick primary tendril slams into A2’s neck, sending them falling back to the mud. They fight to right themselves before Hegel can put more distance between them. Plants roots and long grasses bind their legs down in the mire, slowing their escape. Hegel loops its fleshy tentacles around the branches to pull its body along since it can no longer fly-

Suddenly the mud roils and rises up in an impossibly huge shape. A2’s body seizes. Muscles and bone lock together as they watch the earth itself swell around the body of some insane creature. The bloodlust and rage is quickly replaced with primal fear. They see a line of rocks… no, teeth. A snout with two nostrils that expel a geyser of swamp water. An eye larger than Hegel itself, colored an evil yellow with a single slit pupil. Hegel spins around as fast as it can but its body betrays it. The demon isn’t built for anything but flight. Without air giving it buoyancy it’s as helpless as a beached whale. In a flash of movement, the great beast that lurks under the mud, an alligator larger than any living thing A2 had ever seen, slams its jaws shut on Hegel. The demon doesn’t even have time to scream.

As quickly as the enormous alligator appeared, the beast drags itself back into the mud along with its prize. The only sign that something broke the surface of the water at all is the displaced duckweed and bubbles that emerge from the depths.

Before A2 can process what just happened, the swamp explodes with sound and movement. Something latches onto their leg, teeth cutting through their scales and hide. The water begins to roil around them. What looks to be hundreds of small fish with serrated teeth barrel towards them and their bleeding leg. With all their frantic strength they pull themself up by their claws and wrap their wings around the trunk of a mangrove. They barely have time to rip the distressingly sized leech from their ankle before the jaws of another monstrous alligator lunges at them. A2 scrambles up the tree trunk, just barely out of reach of gator’s teeth.

A2’s claws sink into something thick and fleshy. One of the branches has a different coloration than the light grey bark of a mangrove; it’s a dull green, scaly to the touch, and shines in the light of the setting sun. A great snake whips its head around to face A2, its fangs glinting with dull yellow venom as it lunges for their wing. Without thinking A2 lets go of their grip and flails away from the snake. They plummet back into the watery mud and instantly feel more leeches attach to their body.

Again A2 bursts from the mud, this time not stopping to catch their breath on the trunk of a tree. It isn’t often that they admit to themself that they’re in over their head, but fear overrides any sense of pride that remains in them. They pick a direction and jump from tree to tree, scattering birds, reptiles, and huge insects that flee from this large predator and whatever they may be running from. Every move they make puts them in the path of one ornery animal or another; a slip of their foot almost gets that foot bitten off by a lazy snapping turtle disguised as a boulder, a misplaced claw rips open the walls of a nest of yellow and black stinging insects the size of their head.

They have no idea how long they’ve been jumping between trees in an unknown direction; they can’t even look towards the sun, not with the dense canopy blocking the sky from view. A2 could have changed directions so many times that they’ve been going in circles and not even know it. With the mud and leeches dragging them down, they can’t simply fly away, especially not with how thick the mangrove forest is.

A break in the treeline appears before A2. They almost miss it in between scanning their surroundings like a prey animal. It’s salvation to them, the exit to this hellish swamp. They’d take the blistering desert over the bog any day. They could go back to Kaine and Emil, if they’d let them stay again. They wouldn’t complain this time, not about anything. Not after seeing this place.

The break grows larger; they can see where the treeline grows thin. They even see grass and wildflowers growing on the ground instead of mud. A2 throws themself towards the light of the setting sun, hoping to any higher power that would listen that it isn’t just a clearing.

Suddenly a shadow in the shape of a great beast lunges at A2 from another tree, soon followed by a second and a third. The creatures talk to each other in a violent language of chattering and barks… no, not the creatures, whatever is riding them. Three giant rats carry three women dressed in bark, leather, and bones. Each woman draws a crude bow and notches an arrow dripping with black liquid and takes aim at A2. The women bark something at them, perhaps a warning, and are met with a frightened hiss from the mud soaked Coatyl. A moment later the women loose their arrows, one of them landing just above A2’s head. They smell the sharp, acrid stench of whatever the women are coating their arrows with, and they don’t want to stick around to find out what it’d do to a body.

A2 leaps to the left, seizing a gap in the women’s formation and makes a dash for the treeline once again, but the large rats the women ride are far more nimble than A2 gave them credit for. One of the rats cuts them off and hisses at them, exposing yellowed fangs and festering sores on the inside of its mouth. A2 can smell its breath, like a rotting corpse, and recoils away. Again, they try to dart for freedom only to be outmaneuvered by the rats and the riders, all while avoiding arrow after arrow. The women cackle and bark in their foreign language, and though A2 can’t understand them, their tone is mocking. They’re making fun of them.

Faced with these three women blocking their only path out, A2 makes what might be the worst decision they’ve ever made.

They turn around and dive back into The Bog.

#nier automata #nier a2 #fanfiction #fantasy au #Tanks fics

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desertsafaridubaiuae · 3 years

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Visit to Wildlife Reserve in Ras Al Khor

The place guarantees that the migrating birds that come to this area during the cold season have a friendly atmosphere and availability of natural resources. They provide them with their native habitat. The sanctuary, also known as the "Cape of the Creek," is among the few wetlands in the UAE with both species and greenery. It is the ideal environment you could want, and the City Council oversees it.

Dubai Desert Safari

Desert safari in Dubai is perhaps the most intriguing of these events. Even then, it could be more exciting than an exciting ride through the nearby deserts in a 4x4 car. There are exercises such as sand boarding, dune bashing, fat bike riding, and quad biking. These are the main attractions of a classic Dubai desert safari. Practices such as henna artwork and rides are also available for those interested in culture.

Exciting Ras Al Khor wildlife

Ras Al Khor Sanctuary, shortened RAKWS, is a habitat region in Dubai. While the Reserve is most famous for its flamingos, you may also see reef herons, black-winged stilt, hawk, gulls, egrets, eagle, black-tailed godwit, European spoonbill, sand racers, and striped snakes. The most frequent species in this municipal bird sanctuary are common reeds, beans caper, and beaded strings.

If you go about the preservation park for a while, you will notice that many flowers and creatures will quickly captivate you.

Flamingos

The pink-beaked and lengthy flamingos are unquestionably the sanctuary's attractions. During the winter, many birds travel to the Reserve from colder locations. They seek refuge in the environmental assets present in the wetlands. Flamingos contribute to the sanctuary's liveliness.

Ferruginous duck

A beautiful reddish-brown duck with a distinct patch behind the tail flapping its wings and gliding together with baby ducks on a beautiful lake will take your breath away.

Hedgehog from Ethiopia

This adorable, tiny hedgehog lives on the Dubai nature preserve with its fellow companions.

Blue swimming crab

The blue swimming crabs, a strong sprinter, and hungry predators excite you with their unusual size and pattern.

Tilapia, Mozambique

The Mozambique tilapia, which thrives in speedy waterways and feeds on algae, is normal in the Reserve. It captivates visitors in all aspects.

Tiger fish

The famous tiger fish, a terrible opponent for daring aquatic animals, floats across the tranquil lake.

Agama with a blue head

Agama, a bluish lizard, is also an important element of Dubai's Ras al Khor nature reserve.

Lizard with fringe toes

These lizards, which have fringe-like skin on their back toes, flourish on the sanctuary's natural beaches.

Mangroves

The Reserve is heavily forested, with many mangroves. The carbon-rich mangroves, collectively called gurm, provide a breeding site for crabs, fish, and bristle worms. You can go to the Ras al Khor wildlife sanctuary to learn more about creatures.

RAWKS conservation and management

The environment agency manages the Reserve. They are successful in their operations due to good waste disposal, proper maintenance, and strong law enforcement. Animals are content to live in their local habitat. The recent statistics recorded almost 500 pink flamingos and egrets, grayish cormorants, herons, colored stilts, and marsh harriers. This unique habitat is home to almost 20,000 aquatic birds, with 67 varieties stopping from Africa to Western Europe. On the west coast of the Reserve, visitors view the flamingo nest and the other two on the south end near Al Buhaira Lagoon. Birdlife International designates it as a worldwide Important Bird Area (IBA).

Key highlights of Ras Al Khor wildlife

Annually, this vast wetlands area acts as a breeding site for crabs, reptiles, and fishes, but this is the flamingo that captures the spotlight in wintertime. Look closely amongst the pink plumes to see if you can see grayish herons or great egrets and so much more.

Thrills during Desert Safari in Dubai

Desert Safari Dubai is the uttermost experience that will give you an adrenaline rush as soon as you hit the sands with a car having full potential in terms of torque and power. This adrenaline-inducing adventure is pumped up with an extensive range of activities. The activities include shisha smoking, Belly dance show, Tanura show, and Fire show. Evening desert safari tour is a combo of thrilling safari adventures and an experience of traditional Arabic culture.

Conclusion

This ecologically important wetland, an uncommon sight in the dry Gulf area, comprises low-lying saline plains, lagoons, intertidal mud and sand flats, and mangrove swamps. It serves as a vital home for over 450 species of animals and 47 types of plants. During the wintertime, it is home to around 20,000 water birds from 67 separate breeds. It serves as an important test environment for migrating water birds all along Central Africa Asian Flyway. More than 1% of the local populations of Wide Sandpipers Limicola falcinellus move through in the autumn season. It isn't easy to imagine that visitors find significant numbers of birds so near to the city.

Referenc e Link: https://desertsafarisuae.blogspot.com/2021/07/visit-to-wildlife-reserve-in-ras-al-khor.html

#desert safari #desert safari dubai #dubai desert safari

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neutrino-supremo · 6 years

Note

So a bit ago, you'd suggested "swamp sprite" when I asked for Mermay requests. Now that's really cool and I like it, except for that I know almost NOTHING about swamps, aside from this one Magic School Bus episode I last saw over 15 years ago. Can you tell me more about swamp aesthetic? Know of any good blogs or channels with pictures and/or videos to reference?

Sorry this is late!

I honestly don’t really know where to point you, so I’m going to be objectively unhelpful here. If you search for things like ‘swamp’ or ‘swamps and marshes’ in google images you can get some pretty good results. In the US I think Florida is known for swamps/wetlands, in Aus there’s Kakadu and Arnem Land, in Africa there’s the Okovango Delta, in South America there’s Caroni Swamp. All of them are very different.

In terms of typical (US-centric) aesthetic: Lots of greens and browns, lots of water vegetation (algae, water weeds, water lilies etc.), mud. Things with slimy skin and shining eyes that clamber over tree roots and weed mats. Swamps are old, damp places, usually quite dark. They smell of long dead things, and look like the sort of place something equally old and damp might choose to lurk in the dark water. Southern gothic sometimes features bogs and swamps.

In terms of wildlife: Crocodiles and amphibians are always there. Ambush predators with reflective eyes and an uneasy relationship with the local birds. Crabs and other crustaceans are also common, if that takes your fancy. There are swamp-dwelling eels too, knifefish (including the electric eel), leeches, and other specialised animals like mudskippers or archerfish (=both mangrove fish).

This is really nonspecific, sorry. Truth be told I don’t have much swamp experience either.

You could also try looking at blackwater aquariums: Not technically ‘swampy’, but they tend to house brackish fish, like those found in mangroves and estuary waters. Bayous, billabongs, and mangroves aren’t technically swamps, but they have a ton of interesting wildlife (eg. mudskippers, archerfish).

Anyway, I’m not a lot of help, really sorry. But I hope you can wrangle something useable out of this.

#I'm sorry I hope this isn't too confusing #honestly I don't have much besides 'green and slimy'#and probably predatory #neut answers #neut scoot

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fordanoia · 6 years

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A sea grunk adventure fic for @cthulhu-of-the-night - a @disford Secret Santa gift!!

I hope you enjoy it!!

Ford said they were docking here for convenience, which wasn’t necessarily a lie. It was conveniently a good stone’s throw from a corner of the Bermuda Triangle after all. Stan had gotten woken up more than once in the middle of the night when they were little. Killer whirlpool this and Emily that. Ford was obsessed with it for a while. Pretty sure he wasn’t over it.

That’s why he’s surprised when Ford gets absorbed in a conversation with someone at the pier about floating lights near the marsh.

“Orbs?” Stan questioned, one side of his face scrunching up.

“Orbs.” The man continued, as Ford (not so discreetly) made notes. “There were these glowing orbs in the middle of the night, nowhere near anywhere. Not far off either. I could see it hovering over the water, not a soul by it.”

“Did you try to go after it?” Ford asked.

He made a face. “Are you kiddin’? No. Folks don’t go after those lights. Say what you want, but there’s been plenty rumors, mostly about them being witches. Did have a friend who said they led you to buried gold.” He shrugged then. “Can’t find anything in the middle of a marsh if you ask me though.”

“Where did you see this at exactly again?” Ford asked.

He gave them specific directions, which Ford gladly took before they went down the dock.

“... Ya really think they lead to buried gold?” Stan asked casually. “I thought orbs were, you know, ghosts or whatever.”

“That’s the thing.” Ford started up happily. “There’s a wide range of rumors over floating lights. Ghosts, witches, will o’ wisps. Leading to buried treasure, or doom. There’s really no way of telling for certain unless-”

“Unless we check it out for ourselves.” Stan finished for him.

Ford smiled, pen tapping at his small notebook. “Buried treasure is a possibility here, you know.”

“You don’t have to convince me here. I’m already in, Sixer. We’ll get a canoe and check it out tonight.” Stan said.

They’d attached a light to each end of the canoe and he’d personally made sure whatever they had in there with them had been tied to the canoe. If it flipped for any reason he didn’t want them losing everything.

Ford insisted on keeping their own lights low so they would be able to spot the orbs. The light wasn’t enough to even reflect on the mangroves around them, but the little moonlight that was there was just enough to see the shape of the gnarly branches and roots that sunk into the water.

They gently paddled through the water, skimming across the black water. In the dark of the night Ford got the distinct feeling like they were sneaking into supernatural territory despite not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

“What do you think it is?” Stan’s voice pulled him back a bit from his calm search.

Ford blinked, thinking to himself.

“The glowing lights.” Stan clarified during his silence.

“Right... well. I don’t think they’re ghosts.” He said. “Witches aren’t that unreasonable a theory. However, I think it’s a fae of some kind. That reminds me,” Ford turned back towards Stan, “don’t eat or drink anything.”

“Huh, there goes my plans of drinking dirty swamp water tonight.” He said, pausing to rub a hand under his chin.

Ford scoffed and lifted his paddle out of the water to hit against Stan’s side. “If there turns out to be food and drink, Stanley.”

Stan lifted his arm to block it. “Hey, come on.” He said, stretching out his legs. “I’ve been around the block enough to know eating some rando stuff isn’t the best idea.”

“All the same, avoiding mythical stretches of time would be preferable.” He said, turning back and beginning to paddle.

“Ehh, alright.”

They fell back into silence for a little while. Stan had started to say something when Ford spotted a light in the far distance.

“Hey, so of everything to check out-”

“Stanley, look!” Ford whispered urgently, pointing in the distance. “Do you see it?”

“Spooky orb at three o'clock, I see it.” Stan replied, dipping his paddle into the water to help them turn.

As they paddled closer, Ford was able to pick out minor details. He pulled out a journal, quickly sketching.

A low teal light. Spherical shaped. However, it seemed to have a wispy tail that almost seemed to be touching the water itself. There obviously wasn’t anything it was hanging from, the light was enough to see that. As well it was in the middle of the water, rather than nearby one of the trees. Were those flickering, dark blue flames possible facial features or-

It disappeared like smoke, floating up and quickly fading to nothing. Then in the distance, another popped up, gently bobbing over the water.

Ford smiled broadly, putting the book away. “It’s leading us somewhere.”

“Here’s hoping it’s buried treasure.” Stan murmured.

They followed after these floating lights that would appear and disappear as they got close.

Eventually they came up to land, and Ford stepped out onto mushy grass, pulling the canoe far up enough so Stan could get out as well. He tied it over to one of the trees, making sure it was secure.

“So not be a downer or anything,” Stan said, “but what’s the whole ‘doom’ option again?”

“Generally, a trap of some kind. Sometimes a party of sorts that’s unintentionally well- let’s just say we’d have to be careful with that.” Ford thought out loud. “It could also be to lure us into being hunted. That one would become quickly evident though. Come to think of it, this could be a sacrificial ritual.”

“Okay. So,” Stan scratched at his head, gesturing over to the light that was still waiting for them. “Just gotta ask here, how many good options are there compared to the bad ones?”

“Oh, there’s far less ‘beneficial’ options.” Ford answered easily. “Of course, legends are commonly retold as cautionary tales for children. It’s why several of today’s myths specifically mention children.”

Stan groaned behind him, crossing his arms. “Everything gets remade for kids.”

“Well they also get eaten in most of these tales.” Ford said, moving off towards the light, Stan turning with him.

“So, getting eaten alive is up there on our possibilities here, huh.”

Ford waved a hand. “Ah, we’ll be fine.”

The lights eventually lead to a marshy clearing that seemed to be lit up with varying lights, though whenever he tried to look at where the light came from he just got disoriented. Potentially glamour! This led further to the fae theory.

“You’re not seeing anything, right?” Stan muttered to him, glancing around.

Just as he was about to respond though, the air seemed to shake, like they were stepping through plastic wrap. There were different creatures and glowing fires moved around, directionless. Then there was a low rumble of sounds, mostly conversation but also a lot of odd rustling sounds.

Several of them appeared to have feathered forms with curling limbs. They had multiple beaks, a few of which seemed large, but the more he looked the more Ford realized they had smaller ones poking up. Maybe some of them were just spikes? It could be a way to disguise which one was the real beak. Or a defense mechanism that fully activated when a threat presented itself.

The attention of a few seemed to turn onto them, craning necks limbs twisting in their direction. Nothing aggressive though, which was all Ford needed.

Ford walked towards a nearby grouping that had a green fire hovering over them. He greeted, being careful not to get to close.

Stan followed after him, and he saw him give a short wave to one of the creatures they walked past. “Uh, nice feathers, love what you did with the moss and everything.”

The little attention that was on them moved on, save for the group that did look over to them.

“Ah, hello,” Ford started.

“It is safe here.” One replied, a beak opening up in a watery voice.

Stan coughed into a fist beside him.

“What do you mean it’s safe?” Ford asked.

“It is safe to shed.” They said simply, a different beak opening up.

Stan coughed louder this time, bumping his arm against him. When Ford looked over at him, he was purposefully looking at him.

He put a hand up in silent acknowledgement. So, it wasn’t the most comforting phrasing, but so far they hadn’t been attacked or otherwise.

“Well, we prefer our coats on, but the thought is appreciated.” He said back to them. “Is this where you all stay? What is this place, exactly?”

“A protected spot... for tonight.” Another said. “What are you two, friends?”

“Uh, what are you?” Stan asked, gesturing to them. “No offense, but can’t really tell what’s going on there.”

“We’re adumerbs. What are you?”

Stan snorted. “Adumerbs? Really?”

The feathers on them started to bristle, which was obviously aggression even if he’d never saw these creatures before. “This is some sort of hub then, right? It’s not strictly your home.” Ford tried. “We’re human.” He said gesturing between the pair of them.

There was an almost blank silence in response, and he could feel some of the others starting to look towards them again. “What else?” They eventually asked. “Only the strange can get through to here.”

Ford shot a wary look to Stan, who already seemed far ahead of him in that area already.

“Sorry, pal, but we’re strictly human.” Stan told them. “Just followed some lights. Maybe it’s best if we just go-”

He was interrupted by several of them uttering the same word, “rude.”

“Oh, wow - see at least we didn’t scream into your ugly mugs.” Stan said gesturing between them. “If we wanted to be rude, we’d talk about all the mud and who knows what else on your feathers. I’ve seen things that let mushrooms grow on them that didn’t look that bad.”

“I don’t think that’s mud actually,” Ford told him, “I think that’s their natural forms.”

“You know what - doesn’t make them any less hideous.”

Several angry squawks rose up in a horrendous cry, and sharp toothed beaks opened over the bodies of the ones nearby.

Ford took a step back, but Stan quickly pulled on his shoulder - tugging with him into a run as a few quickly chased after them.

Stan had been the one to reach the canoe first, quickly untying it and pushing it towards the shore before hopping into it. Ford was quick after him, pushing him fully out into water before expertly jumping towards his seat. Show off.

“Cya, you overgrown geese!” Stan shouted with a grin as they paddled off. He didn’t really care if they were there or not. Well, he cared if they were gonna try to chase them into the water and eat them.

After a few minutes and getting around some bends though, he felt it was pretty safe.

Ford pulled out his journal, quickly scribbling away. “Well, that could have gone better.” He said, not actually sounded disappointed. In fact, he seemed rather content writing down notes.

“I mean, they could also have tried to eat us. So it could have gone a lot worse.” Stan let out a breath, relaxing a bit as Ford wrote. “I mean, to be honest I thought you were gonna try sailing out.”

“We just docked though.” Ford said, briefly flashing a confused look to him.

“Well, yeah, but, you know-” he gestured with a hand, “Bermuda Triangle and all that. I figured that was the first thing you were gonna jump to.”

Ford hummed, non-committedly. “People disappear in there too much.” He muttered.

“You used to be crazy about that stuff though.” Stan said, surprised. “Woke me up probably a couple dozen times about your new theory on what was happening there.”

Ford frowned, before giving a light laugh and shooting a half smile to Stan. “What can I say? It’s really not an appealing idea to me anymore.” He said, closing the book, and putting it away. “I had us dock here so we could sail around it.”

“Why?” Stan watched his expression.

“Well- well, it’d be pointless for us to just crash our ship, wouldn’t it?” Ford said, shrugging.

“... Yeah, okay, that’s true.” Safety didn’t exactly stop Ford before though.

Ford picked up his paddle again. “Come on, we should probably get this back before they notice it’s missing.”

“You mean before they notice it’s been stolen?” Stan asked.

“Technically, we simply borrowed it. We’re returning it after all.”

“Real nice line,” Stan said with a smile, “don’t try it in court though, trust me.”

#cthulhuofthenight #u:cthulhuofthenight #disford secret santa #my fics #my own #sea grunks #(pls forgive any spelling errors bc i feel like i always miss those)#(well spelling and grammar)#orbs? orbs

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noroark · 6 years

Text

Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Legendary Genesis

Chapter One: The Bug Catcher

A human is reborn as a Pokémon. A Pokémon will be reborn as a god. Factions collide as they race to collect eighteen legendary treasures, threatening to further upset the balance of an already fractured world.

I began writing this fic during the summer of 2012, and over the next several years, I planned out the plot in extensive detail. My perfectionism prevented me from getting very far in the story itself, however. Late last year, I began what I hope will be my final rewrite before the fic is completed. If I want to get anything done, I need to stop letting my perceived inadequacy hold me back. Anyway, this new version might not be perfect, but I hope you like it!

This fanfiction is suitable for general audiences. It will not contain any strong language, graphic violence, or sexual content. There will be some disturbing themes later in the story, but there won’t be anything explicit.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13973847

In the soft light of morning, the Foreboding Bog hardly lived up to its name.

It was humid, and the smell of rotting vegetation lingered in the air. Gnarled mangroves towered over dark ferns and beds of reeds. Sunlight kissed the water, warding away the swamp gas that created illusions in the dark. Everything was calm and still; the Foreboding Bog was considered inhospitable by most, so few Pokémon dared to set foot in the dungeon.

One such exception was a young Carnivine by the name of Dion. Unlike the majority of Pokémon, Carnivine were adapted to thrive in vile wetlands. As such, Dion felt right at home in the Foreboding Bog. With a bag slung over his shoulder and his signature grin plastered across his face, Dion was oozing with confidence.

He hung by the entrance, appraising the dungeon thoughtfully. “I bet nobody's been to this place in centuries. It's gotta be loaded with treasure!” he said to himself. “When I return to the academy with a huge bag of loot, everyone will think twice before making fun of me.” Under his breath, he muttered, “Well, maybe not Cleo.”

Dion was the newest student at Arcanine's Academy, a school dedicated to the art of treasure hunting. School policy required each student to be paired with one or two partners, forming a “hunting team”. This allowed Headmaster Arcanine to create specialized lessons based on each team's individual strengths and weaknesses. Most of these lessons were hands-on, and they tended to involve navigating treacherous dungeons. At Arcanine's Academy, students were expected to encounter all sorts of perils and foes. If the headmaster was to be believed, that was how they learned best. Students were strictly forbidden from taking lessons alone, though. That was too dangerous.

Due to a recent slump in recruits, Dion had yet to be sorted into a hunting team. He bided his time running errands for Headmaster Arcanine, helping Chef Muk in the kitchen, and tidying up the academy with Chamberlain Claydol. Since Dion was clumsy and a tad dimwitted, he had a habit of messing up even the simplest of tasks. This provided the other students with endless entertainment.

Usually, it didn't bother Dion when they laughed. Only one student managed to get under his skin: Cleo, the leader of Team Masquerade. The catty Yamask had delighted in making his life miserable since his first day at the academy, and Dion didn't have the slightest idea why.

A particular incident involving her remained at the forefront of his mind.

“That Dion—he's such a useless oaf! He'll never make it as a treasure hunter. If he came along on one of our expeditions, he'd just slow us all down. Headmaster Arcanine, why don't you just have him expelled?”

The headmaster had laughed. “Lass, that's not your call,” he'd told her, his baritone voice raspy with age. “I let Dion enroll for a reason. He has potential, just like you do. Maybe someday you'll see what I mean.”

Cleo had proceeded to leave in a huff.

Dion mulled over the headmaster's words while fidgeting with his bag.Headmaster Arcanine said I have potential. I wonder what he meant by that. He knew he wouldn't find the answer while idling around the academy, which was why he had decided to take matters into his own hands.Today's the day I'm going to prove my potential to the academy… and maybe the world!

Dion entered the Foreboding Bog, using Levitate to float about a foot above the ground. He spotted a rickety old boardwalk and swooped down to investigate. Dion ran his hand along the grooves in the weathered wood, only to recoil in pain. A splinter had embedded itself in one of his leafy fingertips. Dion plucked it out, wincing. “Eee… this thing doesn't seem very safe.” He stared at the boardwalk while contemplating turning around. Once he had made up his mind, Dion rose into the air.

He froze.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, chuckling. “Never mind!” Dion whistled a cheery tune as he hovered along the boardwalk, keeping his eyes peeled for treasure. The only problem was that he didn't actually know what treasure looked like. He was sure he'd be able to recognize it if he found some, though.

Dion wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. It was the height of morning, and the temperature had peaked as well. The humidity was becoming unbearable, even for a Carnivine. He shrugged it off and pressed on, refusing to bow to the heat.

Dion frowned when he reached the end of the boardwalk. The last few planks had broken off and fallen into the motionless water. “This can't be the end of the dungeon, can it?” He balled his fists. “No! A trick like this might keep some Pokémon away from the treasure, but it's not gonna work on me.” Smoothly, he boasted, “I can Levitate.” He tore into the depths of the Foreboding Bog, weaving between the mangroves and rustling the plants below.

Almost immediately, Dion caught a glimpse of something bright green. “Oh? What could this be?” Dion drooled in anticipation as he approached, savoring the moment. “Maybe it's a giant emerald! Wait, no. The headmaster said emeralds are dark green. It's gotta be… a peridot! Yeah, that sounds right. Either way… I'm gonna be rich!”

Dion brushed aside a curtain of leaves and recoiled at what he found.

The body of a Scyther lay belly-down in a pool of muck. Its torso was hidden beneath the water, but its abdomen was still visible; its size indicated it was female. The Scyther's head was resting on a pile of damp stones, and her face was contorted in a grimace. She had thrown one of her scimitar-shaped arms over the rocks; the other was underwater. Her wings were waterlogged. Her legs were sprawled in a strange position. Nearby, a muddy piece of purple cloth was sticking out of the water.

Dion jolted backwards and slithered up a tree in fright. He shielded his eyes with his broad, leafy hands, but curiosity compelled him to take another peek. “Golly!” he remarked in a whisper. “I wasn't expecting to find anyone out here, especially like this! Oh gosh, is she even alive?” Dion broke a stick off of the tree and prodded at her face. “Wake up! Please wake up!”

When the Scyther's eyes snapped open, Dion nearly tumbled out of the tree. To his surprise, she didn't look the least bit alarmed—in fact, she looked as though she had just woken up from a pleasant dream. She grunted something unintelligible before parting her jaws in a yawn.

Dion beamed in relief. “Oh, good!” he cried as he flung the stick into the water. “You're not dead!”

The Scyther flitted her eyelids a few times before quizzically narrowing her eyes. “What?” Her voice was soft and low-pitched, unlike Dion's.

“Up here!” Dion shouted. When the Scyther lifted her head, he gave her a friendly wave.

She regarded him for almost a full minute, dumbfounded. At last, she stuttered, “Y-you're… a Carnivine…”

Dion got down from the tree. “Yup! As a matter of fact I am.” He reached out to her. “Need a hand?”

The Scyther blinked some more. “Yeah, I guess that would be… uh, nice.” She jerked her arm and her scythe shot out of the water. In the throes of disorientation, her movements were stiff and erratic.

If Dion had been any closer to the ground, he would have gotten skewered. “Yikes! That was a close one!” he yelped, bunching his vine-like legs. “Heh… guess I didn't think that through. You really could use a hand or two, though. They're a lot less dangerous than scythes!” He let out a playful guffaw, hoping the other Pokémon would join in his laughter.

But the Scyther was silent. She was staring vacantly at her bladed arm, her expression unreadable.

“H-hey, it's okay! I'm fine! You didn't actually hurt me,” Dion insisted.

The Scyther swiveled her head around and looked him in the eye. “No. You don't understand,” she said with wooden intonation. “This isn't my arm.”

Dion's eyes were wide with horror. “Then… whose arm is it?”

The Scyther clambered to her feet, her legs wobbling beneath her. Seconds later, she toppled onto her back. “I'm dreaming,” she mused, lying in the mud. “Yes, that has to be it.”

“Dreaming?”

She smiled at Dion, catching him off guard. “Look,” she said. “I'm not even going to bother explaining this to you. This is probably never going to happen again, so I don't want to waste any time.” The Scyther shook her head, still smiling. “I… I can't believe it. I can't believe I'm actually having a lucid dream!” She cackled as she spread out her arms, carving shallow trenches in the dirt. “I'm a Scyther—a Pokémon! How crazy is that?”

Dion watched, baffled. “You're… not making any sense,” he said. He gestured at the pile of stones. “Maybe you hit your head on those rocks over there.”

The Scyther was on her knees now, slashing at the reeds. Without looking up from her work, she murmured, “Hmm… nah.”

“I think you should come with me to Origin Central. Maybe I'll be able to get you some help.”

“I'll gladly come if it means getting out of this swamp. For a dream, this place reeks.” She got up again, using her scythes for support. She took a big whiff of the air. “Huh, that's weird. I also smell something sweet. What is that? It's kind of nice, actually.”

Dion ignored her. “I don't know how to tell you this, but I really don't think this is a dream.” Just to be sure, he swept his hand across his face. It felt real to him.

“Don't be silly,” the Scyther chided. “There's no way this is real. That would be impossible.”

It had become clear to Dion that trying to convince the Scyther otherwise was futile, so he changed the subject. “Before we get going, can you tell me your name? Mine's Dion.”

“My name? My name is…” The Scyther wrinkled her nose. “What is my name? I… I don't remember!”

Dion nodded in silent understanding. “Is there anything you do remember?”

“Now that I think about it… no, not really. Like, I know I had friends and family, but I can't remember anything about them.” She shut her eyes tight. “This is freaking me out. I kind of want to wake up now.”

“But you do remember that you're not supposed to be a Scyther, or at least that's what you believe.” Dion rubbed his chin. “What are you supposed to be, then?”

“A human,” she replied casually.

“A human?” Dion gasped. “But… humans aren't real, are they? I thought they were make-believe!” Dion had heard plenty of stories about humans: strange, bipedal creatures that trapped Pokémon in special Wonder Orbs and forced them to battle each other.

“Touché.” The Scyther heaved a sigh. “None of this makes any sense, but… maybe you're right. Maybe this isn't a dream.”

Dion gave another somber nod.

The Scyther let her arms hang at her sides. “I guess this is it, then.” All of the joy had been sucked out of her voice. She almost sounded like a different Pokémon altogether.

Dion twiddled his thumbs. “Er… anyway, let's get going. I'll take you straight to Arcanine's Academy. If there's anyone who'll know what to do about this, it's Headmaster Arcanine. I'll show you the way.” He sailed forward, peering over his shoulder to make sure the Scyther was following. When he noticed she was struggling to keep up, he slowed down a little. “You know,” he said, “I thought Scyther were supposed to be super fast… so fast you can hardly see them!”

“I'm not a Scyther.”

“Oh. Right.” Dion was quiet for a moment. “That reminds me. Since you can't remember your name, is there anything in particular you'd like to be called?”

“Uh… Eileen. That was the first thing that popped into my head. Could it be my real name? No, that can't be right. Whatever. Just call me Eileen.”

“All righty! Eileen it is.” Dion thought about what he'd name himself if given the choice until he was interrupted by a loud splash. He whipped around. Eileen had fallen into the water and was fighting to stay afloat. Dion had only made it to this part of the Foreboding Bog with the help of Levitate—an ability not possessed by Scyther like Eileen.

“Gah!” Dion cried. “How deep is it? Can you swim?”

“Not like this!” Eileen snarled as her head went under. Seconds later, her snout emerged. She managed to spit out a mouthful of green water before disappearing once more. Dion gnawed on his fingertips as he waited for her to return. The only sign of the Scyther was a steady stream of tiny bubbles rising to the surface.

Dion flew around the watery chasm in a panicked circle. “What do I do? What do I do?” When he realized he was wasting precious time, he forced himself to calm down. “Think, Dion, think!” Thinking was not one of Dion's strong suits, so he scoured his surroundings for inspiration. Surely enough, he found it in a nearby mangrove that had been overtaken by vines. “That's it!” A pair of skinny tendrils extended from the base of his neck. “ Vine Whip!”

Carefully, Dion guided his vines into the water. He fished around until one of his vines got caught on a long, slender object. Dion breathed in relief and reeled it in, only to find it was the stick he had discarded earlier. “What? No way!” He tossed it aside, dipped his vines back into the water, and tried again.

This time, Dion grabbed onto something much heavier. It had to be Eileen! He tightened his vines around her upper arms and tugged with all his might, but he wasn't strong enough to lift her above the surface. Eileen gasped for breath as her head burst out of the water.

Dion looked her over. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Eileen croaked between coughs, retching. “Ugh. It tastes like something died in there.”

“Well, be glad it wasn't you!” Dion couldn't help but feel a bit peeved that Eileen hadn't bothered to thank him. “I'm sure you'll be fine.”

For several minutes, Eileen paddled in place while Dion held her up. Once Eileen had caught her breath, she demanded, “Now what?”

Dion gulped. There was something intimidating about her appearance, from her penetrative stare to her scythes that could slice a Pokémon into ribbons in the blink of an eye. It didn't help that Dion was weak to both of her types. He knew Eileen had no reason to hurt him—and even if she did, she probably wouldn't know how—but she made him nervous nonetheless.

“Er… there's a boardwalk somewhere around here. Now, where was it?” Dion hauled Eileen along behind him as he searched, and she was too exhausted to care that he was guiding her into all sorts of hidden boulders and logs. Her eyes were glazed with weariness, which made her look just a tiny bit less menacing.

“Ah-ha! There it is!” In his excitement, Dion dragged Eileen into one of the planks that had broken off of the boardwalk. The plank coasted into the shadows and disappeared.

With newly found energy, Eileen glared at him.

Dion averted his eyes. “Heh, whoops. S-sorry about that.”

Eileen turned away. She studied the boardwalk for a long time, idling in contemplation.

“Think you can do it?” Dion snapped. His patience was wearing thin.

Eileen stirred, shaken from her trance. “I'll… I'll try,” she said in a small voice. She dug her scythes into the boardwalk, leaving deep incisions in the wood. Shifting her weight onto her upper body, she struggled to push herself onto the platform. Dion strained himself as he tried to help pull her out. Despite their combined efforts, Eileen remained in the water.

“Phew.” Dion lowered his head in despair, his gaze landing on Eileen's wings. His head shot back up. “Hey, wait a minute!” he hollered, nearly letting go of her.

“What?”

“Eileen!” He slapped his tangled knees, wheezing with laughter. “What are we even doing? You have wings! You can fly!”

“I have wings?” she repeated. “I can… fly?”

“Of course! I can't believe it took so long for one of us to notice. What are you waiting for? Get up here!”

Eileen frowned. “I don't know how to fly.”

“It just sort of… happens, I guess. That's the way it is with Levitate, anyway. It's probably a lot different when you're using wings.” Dion loosened his grip. “I guess you'll just have to give it a whirl and see how it goes.”

Eileen drew a wary breath. “All right, then.” Her four wings vibrated in unison, spreading a shower of mist into the air. Spooked, she made her wings still. “That's so weird… it's not what I was expecting at all.”

“Keep at it!” Dion cheered. “Don't give up!”

Eileen gnashed her teeth. Her wings buzzed and she tore her blades out of the wood as she started gaining height. Eileen angled her body over the boardwalk and drifted forward a few feet; then, she let herself fall. She hit the wood with a thud. “Ow,” she hissed as she stood up. “I'm so heavy.”

“Tell me about it!”

Eileen flashed Dion a look that made him fear for his life.

Sweating, he said, “Haha, well… at least you're out of harm's way!”

“Am I?” Eileen said through clenched teeth. She picked up one of her feet and showed it to Dion. There was a large chunk of wood wedged in her sole.

“Yikes! I should have warned you about the splinters.”

Eileen reached for her foot, glowering. When she remembered she didn't have hands, she brought her scythes together and attempted to use them as tweezers. She lost her balance and fell onto her side, where she proceeded to writhe in frustration.

“Wow,” remarked Dion. “I never thought I'd meet a Pokémon as clumsy as me.”

Eileen stopped moving and looked up at Dion.

“You know,” he continued in a wistful tone, “I think the two of us would make a great team. We wouldn't slow each other down, that's for sure. Maybe we could even learn how to be less clumsy together.”

Eileen slammed the back of her head against the boardwalk, suppressing a scream.

“Oh!” cried Dion, shaken from his daydreams. “I should probably help you with that, shouldn't I?” He glided over to her, grabbed her leg, and pinched the splinter with his leafy fingers. Eileen grimaced as he yanked it out and flicked it into the water. Then, Dion used Vine Whip to help her to her feet. Eileen didn't thank him for any of it, but Dion had stopped letting that bother him.

He had certainly found something deep within the Foreboding Bog—something that might have been even more interesting than treasure. Dion couldn't wait to report back to the academy and share his discovery with Headmaster Arcanine.

#pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon fanfiction #carnivine #scyther #fanfiction #legendary genesis

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