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howlingday · 7 months

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Hyena!Faunus Ruby SUPERPOST

Weiss: UGH! WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!

Ruby: Me~!

Blake: Urp! Did you roll around in trash?!

Ruby: Yup~!

Yang: Uh, why?

Ruby: Because I am the leader~!

Fun Fact! Hyenas will roll around in dung and carcasses they've found. The exact reason is unknown, though one theory states that the action serves as a means of improving their status within the group.

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Weiss: Ruby, I need you to stay away... I'm incredibly sick, and-

Ruby: (Finishing Weiss' soup) Pah! Sorry, did you say something, Weiss?

Weiss: ...I'm gonna throw up.

Fun Fact! Hyenas are immune to almost every disease, including anthrax and rabies. It is believed this was a development in their evolution to improve their role as scavengers. There have even been cases in which trash consumed by the hyenas helps improve human immunity by removing harmful pathogens and preventing them from spreading, such as anthrax and bovine tuberculosis.

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Ruby: You gonna eat that?

Yang: (Hands over steak bone) Nah, you go ahead.

Ruby: (Crunches bone)

Blake: ...Wow.

Yang: You think that's impressive? Wait 'til it comes out!

Ruby: (Mouth full of bone shards) Yeng, dun be grosh!

Fun Fact! Hyenas will eat and digest bones. This diet results in their dung not only being nearly completely white, but also rich in calcium, which is good for soil, and contain bone shards used by birds for nests.

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Yang: Ruby Rose!

Ruby: (Gulps)

Yang: I thought you grew out of your teething phase!

Ruby: I did!

Yang: (Holding up a half-eaten rubber eraser) Then what's this?!

Ruby: ...Treat?

Yang: NO TREAT!

Fun Fact! Although there are health benefits to having hyenas around, they are still considered a pest for their tendency to chew on and eat rubber, such as from tires of airplanes. This is especially enticing to hyenas when there is dung on them. This behavior can negatively impact humans to the point plane wheels are protected with barbed wire!

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Ruby: Jaune! Jaune!

Jaune: Mm, what? (Yawns) What time is... (Looks around, Atop Beacon Tower) HOW-?!

Ruby: C'mon! C'mon! Let's play!

Fun Fact! There are reports of hyenas attacking humans, including an elderly man who was dragged from his bed over 80 miles away from his home, and when the search party found his body, his lower half was completely missing. Authorities urge residents to stay indoors at night with all openings shut.

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Ruby: (Crying)

Blake: Are you okay?

Ruby: I'm sorry, baby. I-I have to. Forgive me. (Pulls out screwdriver, Holds down Magnhild)

Yang: Yeah, she... gets like this every time she upgrades a weapon.

Ruby: (Pries open casing, Blubbering) F-F-Forgib me, zwee behbeh...

Blake: That's... uncomfortable.

Nora: No kidding.

Fun Fact! Hyenas will practice infanticide to improve their status within the group. A female will always be a member of the group, and this heirarchy is usually determined by violence. An observed hyena targeted and killed her sister's two cubs to establish herself higher in the pecking order.

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Ruby: One day, Jaune and Ren will leave, and they'll find their own harem of sexy girls to fall in love with.

Pyrrha: Uh, that's not going to happen.

Ruby: Why not?

Nora: Renny is gonna stay with me, forever and ever!

Ruby: What about Jaune?

Pyrrha: W-Well, hopefully, he can stay as our leader.

Ruby: ...DISGUSTING.

Ren: Huh?

Jaune: What do you mean?

Ruby: I am disgusted, and revolted, and even though I dedicate my life to the ways of our Huntress ancestors, THIS is the thanks I get?! (Climbs into garbage can)

Jaune: Ru-

Ruby: (Slams lid shut)

Fun Fact! Hyena males will be given a choice at adulthood, aka 2 years. If they choose to stay in the pack, they will maintain the status their mothers have achieved, though their choice of mate is severely limited by other females to prevent incest. Males who leave will have more females to choose from, though they will have to fight for their place in a heirarchy. It should be noted that the highest ranked male is still lower than the lowest ranked female.

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Ruby: (In the pool)

Blake: (In the pool)

Ruby: ...

Blake: ...

Ruby: (Smiles)

Blake: ...Oh, that's nasty.

Fun Fact! During the dry season, hyenas will sit in any water mud puddle they can find. They will remain in this water, even while using it as a bathroom.

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Dino Krakata Gigantia Faunus Summer

Summer: (Towering over her classmates) Hm... I see no foes...

Summer: ONLY PREY.

Fun Fact! Dino Krakata Gigantia was the megafauna ancestor of hyenas, weighing more than 800 pounds and standing more than 6 feet long. Evidence shows they too shared a powerful set of jaws for crushing and eating bones.

#rwby #hyena!faunus Ruby #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #Dino Krakata Gigantia!Faunus Summer #summer rose

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rkherman · 2 years

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Back in October 2021, I participated in Light Grey Art Lab’s exhibition titled The End is Nigh. I finally received the art book today, and it’s cool to see my art published!

Here is my excerpt:

“Fungi have two major connections with death. Not only are they decomposers and break down decaying organic material, but most species are also highly poisonous and cause death after being ingested.

The five species of fungi highlighted are from Eastern Canada:

Dung Loving Bird's Nest are shaped like cups with small blue nodules inside that resemble birds' eggs. Eyelash Fungus are red or orange discs with stiff black hairs circling the edges. Artist's Conk form wide, curved shelves across tree trunks, and are grey or brown in colour. Tippler's Bane is a grey conical mushroom that drips black liquid after it has been picked. Horn of Plenty is named for looking similar to the horn-shaped Cornucopia of Greek mythology.”

#originalart

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captainstevenjohnstonme · 9 months

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'Vulture.'

The following story is about a vulture with good table manners.

High up in the branches of a dead tree deep in the heart of the Serengeti plain sits a huge nest made from twigs grass and dung.

A mother common vulture is perched on the edge of the nest watching as a single egg begins to crack and soon an ugly featherless head pokes out and has its first view of life outside the egg.

The new mother doesn't move a muscle as the chick completely breaks free from the eggshell and begins to stumble around.

After an hour or so the chick gets its bearing and notices a huge ugly bird looking down at it through bloodshot eyes.

The chick squints and takes another look 'Lord have mercy, please tell me that I am adopted and that my real momma is coming to pick me up.'

Right from the start the parent vultures knew that their son was different.

Now at three weeks of age he is already cleaning the nest and preening his feathers all by himself and his mom and dad have started to tell the neighboring nests that their chick might be you know playing for the other team.

'Jesus' the chick squawks' Just because I am neat and tidy doesn't mean that I am gay and by the way why haven't I been given a name yet?'

After a few seconds the chick dips his wings in water and baptizes himself 'I am name myself Fredrick the Vulture with culture.'

His parents are beside themselves their son turns his nose up at intestines, stomach contents and offal and will only eat the top cuts of meat, no fat allowed.

They are half expecting Fredrick to ask for a napkin and cutlery for Gods sake.

Soon Fredrick is ready to take his maiden flight after been guided to the edge of the nest by his mother where after flapping his wings for a few moments he is picked up by an air current and takes off.

The Vulture with culture is flying.

After a few practice laps Fredrick is joined by his parents than the three of them where they glide back and forth on the endless search for food.

As the trio circle the father picks up his favorite smell, rotting meat.

They land next to a bloated hippo and the mother vulture doesn't waste anytime sticking her head up the dead hippo's ass before dragging out a tangle of intestines.

Fredrick is nervous because this is the first time that he has been on the ground but hunger draws him forward and he takes a tentative taste of the huge purple tongue but the soon the vulture family are joined by dozens of other vultures so they wander over to a nearby tree to digest their meal but not Fredrick he flies down to the river to bath and clean his feathers.

Fredrick is soon free from flecks of blood and meat but what he needs is to brush and floss his eye teeth.

He sure is one neat freak dandy vulture.

Some of the other young vulture notice Fredrick's peculiar bathing habits and fly over to tease and pester him but Fredrick is having none of it.

The other vultures get out of his way when he pushes past them and the dandy bird walks the gauntlet with his head held high.

Back at the nest Fredrick uses his sharp beak to clip his toenails than continues preening his feathers.

His mother gives her son a worried look as he performs his daily cleaning routine why did she have to give birth to a dandy bird who seems to ignore the young female vultures?'

Fredrick is aware of his mothers gaze but ignores her 'so what if I like to be clean.'

And even though his mother might not think so Fredrick would love to have a wife one day and after months of being followed everywhere by a lovely female vulture Fredrick gives in to temptation.

After a gasp and a shake of his tail feathers Fredrick just fertilized his first egg.

Now a few years later Fredrick and his wife have a brood of five and everyday the dandy bird would fly the skies looking for dead animals that he can provide for the chicks.

One of the chicks is a lot like his father refusing to stick is head where the sun don't shine plus he also has a daily cleaning routine and has a penchant for the finest cuts of meat,

Fredick is a proud father and enjoys spending time with all of them.

They are all have different personalities but most of them have developed a distinct liking for the finer things in life just like their father the vulture with culture.

THE END.

#vultures #birds #preening #feathers #dandy #gay #blood #guts

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canisvesperus · 3 years

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What should I do for 200 followers?

Also look at this fungus.

#ven talks #fungus #mushrooms #fungi #birds nest fungi #nidulariaceae #Cyathus stercoreus #dung loving birds nest #dung birds nest

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

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Chapter 34

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Recovery did come, slow as it was. Some days later, Talltail sat by the big glass window. Jake was curled up pressed against his side, snoring loudly. It still felt a bit strange that the kittypet didn’t have even a small qualm about letting a stranger into his home, and treating him as though they were clanmates their whole lives. Talltail certainly didn’t dislike it. It felt safer than sleeping alone, and even if the water the twoleg put down had an unpleasant metallic tang to it, at least he could be sure it wasn’t going to kill him.

Another oddity he’d found in the den was the twoleg sometimes lit a small fire inside at night, in a little stone cavern in the sitting room, and somehow kept it contained. It was more than a little frightening at first, but also incredibly warm. It was his first sight of real fire. Talltail couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the rare opportunity to closely watch such a dangerous unpredictable thing, feared by all the clans, without having to worry.

But that was about where the benefits stopped.

In the couple days he’d been there, he had also suffered getting slobbered on by a dog multiple times, and the twoleg constantly trying to stroke his fur. Once it had made the mistake of trying to pick him up, but Talltail had quickly made it clear that was not going to fly. He also had to deal with letting it take on and off the uncomfortable soft wraps and smearing his cuts with a foul smelling goo. The twolegs paws where clumsy and shaky. It made him long for Briarpaw’s much more gentle touch. I will never complain of the smell of herbs again, Talltail thought. Not that he’d get the chance either way. But however unpleasant it felt, he suffered captivity with as much dignity as he could manage. And his wounds did feel a bit better.

The twoleg came up behind them and crouched down, making strange high pitched noises at Talltail, a sound he noticed the twoleg only made at cats. Talltail ignored it, tail lashing when it had the nerve to start touching his back. He turned slowly with a searing glare.

“You are an ugly hairless lumbering fool. You smell of fox-dung. I’d rather sleep in the dirt place than breathe in your stench.”

The twoleg made a pleased crooning sound and went on stroking his fur.

Talltail continued, “you have a kits’ senses and wouldn’t be able to find your own stupid ugly nose even though it’s attached to your face. You are lower than a worm, and I despise you and everything you stand for. You are too flea-brained to understand a word I’m saying, aren’t you?”

The twoleg meowed back at him. It sounded like garbled nonsense.

Talltail narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?”

The twoleg meowed again.

Talltail bit its paw.

Jake snored himself awake while Talltail still held one of its long digits in his jaws.

“Are you getting along?” he yawned.

Talltail spit out the paw and the twoleg made an amused sound and lumbered away. “We are getting along great,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s good. You’ve only bit him five times so far, that’s much better than the last cat he tried to take in,” Jake purred.

“Your twoleg does not take hints very well.” Talltail replied, ears flat in annoyance.

“Well I never claimed he was wise. He’s really very fond of you though.”

“Then he truly isn’t wise at all."

Jake yawned and stretched “How’s your brooding going? Anything go by outside?”

“Nothing more than some birds,” Talltail sighed.

“Oh!” Jake said suddenly. “I forgot to mention...I had an idea about what you can do. My friend Nutmeg has seen lots of strays go through here in the past moons. There’s a chance the cats you're looking for were among them.”

“You forgot to mention that?”

“In my defense, there’s been a lot of other things to think about.”

“In which case,” Talltail stood. “I think I have stayed here long enough. My cuts aren’t bad. I can manage on my own without that terrible goo.

He expected Jake to argue, but instead he nodded. “I’d never expect you to stay in a house like this, even I find it a little cramped sometimes. A promise is a promise. Follow my lead and you can sneak out.”

Jake took a couple paces towards where the twoleg was sitting and let out a very loud yowl.

“Hey! Time to open the door!”

Eventually the twoleg grumbled, stood up slowly on creaking limbs, and shambled over to the side door. He looked down at Talltail and tried to nudge him back with his long hind leg. Talltail let out a small hiss. Who does it think it is, pushing me?

Jake winked at Talltail. “Just be casual. Act like you don’t care.”

Talltail pretended like he was busy grooming his chest fur. As soon as the door was open, Talltail shot out faster than a hare, across the yard, and clammered through a gap in the fence. Jake squeezed after him a heartbeat later. The twoleg made a hooting sound, but Talltail was already out of sight.

He huffed in the fresh air as soon as he set paws on grass. Never had he been so relieved to feel it.

With a contented sigh of relief, he turned to dip his head to Jake. “Thank you for everything. I’ll think of you often for being so kind to me. You’ve more than repaid your debt.”

Jake blinked at him. “It wasn’t just to repay a debt! And I want to go with you.”

Talltail stared. “G-go with me? This could be really dangerous. I may not like your home, but you're safe here. Where I’m going isn’t, and who knows how long it will take. Do you even know how to fight?”

Jake puffed out his chest “I’ve been in a fight! I got into a tussle with an old stray once, sort of by accident, but I held my ground! See this scar on my ear?”

He turned his head to show off the very, very small nick in his right ear.

When Talltail didn’t respond, Jake gave a dramatic sigh of defeat. “Well, all right. I can’t make you take me. But be careful of the neighbor dogs. And the alley cats. And the rude twolegs. And the cars. The paths and alleyways can get really confusing if you don’t follow them all correctly, and you can end up turned around and running nose first into all kinds of danger. You know where to watch out for all of that, right?”

He was giving Talltail a very pointed look as he spoke. Talltail flicked his long tail in annoyance, but couldn't help looking out at the town with unease. This place was unfamiliar and completely strange to him, not anything his warrior training had prepared him for. Obviously, because warriors aren’t supposed to come out this far in the first place.

It was hard to admit to himself after he’d been so determined to do this on his own that weaving through this loud foul smelling town made him nervous, and he didn’t even know where to start.

Jake had an amused glint in his eyes. “I know you’re on a super important mission, but if you want to accept this 'kittypets' help, I'd love to show you around.”

Talltail eventually had no choice but to accept that maybe he did need a guide. For a little while at least.

Jake perked up immediately. “Great! Then I’ll take you to see my friend Nutmeg. You guys seem like you're a similar breed of paranoid, maybe you’ll get along. You can describe those cats to her, and we’ll decide where to go from there.”

Talltail still wasn’t sure about this. He felt deep down that he really did want Jake’s company, remembering a time when it felt like such a relief to go see him. And he didn’t realize until after he left WindClan how empty it would feel to be completely alone for so long. But at least unlike back then, he didn’t have to feel guilty about seeing Jake because it was no longer a simple excuse to get away from his clan duties. But still... I came out this far because I needed to do this on my own, didn’t I? Why should another cat be bogged down with it?

“This could take a while, Jake,” Talltail warned again as they walked. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?”

Jake’s eyes smiled brightly in the greenleaf sunlight. “I assure you, I have absolutely nothing better to be doing.”

***

Talltail followed Jake, leaping down off the fence into Nutmeg’s yard.

“Wait here, I know how to get her attention,” Jake said, trotting up to a tall glass opening in the nest. He began pawing at the window until a disgruntled looking tortoiseshell poked her head through an opening flap.

Nutmeg pushed her way into the yard and regarded Jake suspiciously. “I haven’t seen you in a couple days. Is that weirdo still in your house?”

“Actually he’s in your garden.” Jake replied.

Nutmeg’s eyes bulged as she had apparently only just noticed Talltail sitting with his tail wrapped tightly around himself, trying not to look awkward.

“Um. Hi.” Talltail said.

The bristling tortoiseshell flicked her gaze from him back to Jake, not hiding her obvious unease. “Ah. I see.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like strangers in your garden, but I promise we’ll be gone quick. We just wanted to ask about the cats you’ve seen.” Jake looked back at Talltail. “Nutmeg keeps tabs on all the cats in the area, she sees everyone that goes by. Spying is like, her main hobby.”

“I am not spying, it’s a matter of safety. When I see dangerous looking strangers, the cats that go outside ought to know.” Nutmeg’s tail lashed and Talltail knew she was clearly still unhappy about him being there. He remembered suddenly, now that he’d caught her scent, that she was almost certainly one of the kittypets he had frightened not long after arriving.

“Right I'm er...sorry for scaring you before, I suppose.” Talltail muttered. Nutmeg simply flicked her tail in vague acknowledgement.

Jake nudged her and she sighed. “Fine, I suppose I'm sorry for calling you weird.” She then added, quieter, “but what exactly am I supposed to think when a big stranger shows up covered in blood and talking to himself?”

“Anyway,” Jake interrupted before Talltail could respond, “his name is Talltail and we’re going on a quest to find a group of strays.”

“‘We’?” Nutmeg stared at Jake. "Why are you going?"

“Yes we, because we’re friends and I’m a good guide.” Jake retorted. Nutmeg looked very doubtful, which made Talltail a bit nervous. He hoped Jake wasn’t exaggerating his navigation knowledge, but it was too late to turn him down now.

“Well…” Nutmeg hesitated, “A lot of strays have passed by here. Who exactly are you looking for?”

Talltail did his best to describe the five cats. “The only one I need to find is the smallest of them, dark brown almost black, sort of long messy fur, one ear tip sliced off. His eyes are two different colors. Looks obnoxiously aloof all the time. It would have been a couple moons ago.”

“A couple moons ago, that’s not encouraging.” Nutmeg said. “But surprisingly, I think I know who you mean. They’d passed by here before. Made themselves very known, weird bunch, too friendly for their own good if you ask me. I remember because it was a little before I met Jake. Before him, they were some of the oddest cats I’d ever seen. And before you I guess. They stopped to talk to Quince, I think they mentioned something about staying in the big wooded park in the center of town. It’s supposed to be a big area with no cars, and there’s lots of food, and apparently housefolk will feed you too if you know the right ones to ask. I overheard them saying were going to stop traveling for a bit, I guess they just had a loss or something. Mind you, that was some moons ago, I don’t know if they’re still there, but that’s what they said last I saw them.”

“Wow you remember all that? You’re positive?” Talltail asked.

Nutmeg sniffed, as if she were offended. “Of course I’m sure! I’m sure of every cat I see, especially weird ones.”

“Alright, alright. Do you know where this park is?” Talltail pressed.

“Um...well no, I have no need to go that far outside my house myself.”

“I think I know!” Jake piped up, “I haven’t been there, but I’ve seen it from a distance. We just have to cut through some alleyways to avoid the cars.”

“If you think it’s safe to do that…” Nutmeg narrowed her eyes, “Not every stray likes you, you know.”

“I’ll be fine. I know exactly where I'm going.” Jake nudged Talltail “See, aren’t you glad you have me?”

“Sure. We should get going though. Thanks for your help. As a reward, I promise never to come into your garden again.”

She snorted. “Actually, as my reward, you can try to keep Jake from doing anything fluff-brained.”

“I never do anything fluff-brained!” Jake purred as he turned with a flick of his tail. “Come on, no time to waste.”

He scampered back up the fence and beckoned Talltail to join him. Jake was far too excited about the grim mission, and Talltail was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable about not giving him all the details. “You’re only going with me a little ways,” Talltail reminded him quickly. “Just to the park. Then I have to continue on my own.”

“Sure, sure, but let's get going! You’ve never seen a town before, I remember how intense it felt the first time I saw it, I’ve got so much to teach you!”

Talltail allowed himself a small purr of amusement. There was still a distance to go. No need to be a drag the entire way when Jake was being so helpful, right? As long as he didn’t slow down.

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#FRU34 #chapter 34

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bythehook · 3 years

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Part One: The Witch

There were plenty of birds on Neverland, but only four native breeds. There was the Talvey bird, named by a narcissist from Liverpool that had come and died on the island long ago; the Dung bird who gladly cleaned up foul droppings; the Duster birds found in the cacti in the scorching Neverland desert lands; and finally the rare Neverbird, whose bright plumage was as unmistakable as it was uncommon. Easy to spot, but devilishly hard to find these days.

As James ran the dull side of his hook along the ornate, gold cage, the Neverbird trembled. It was, in fact, a very young Neverbird. The fully grown fowl were a massive and mightier prey, building nests as wide as a room. Aside from the sorely needed bath in Tulip’s Bathhouse, this was what Hook had come to pick up from the port. Jukes had always been a collector of rare objects, and his plunder had grown tenfold with his brood of adopted brats. They found all sorts, and while most of their findings weren’t worth spit, they sometimes pulled treasures from the island.

Hook had heard tell that the children had discovered an abandoned Neverbird nest and had brought the baby bird home with them. Neverbirds only laid one egg every five years, and so it was a rare occurrence indeed. It was the type of find, Hook hoped, would buy him a cure, or at least an answer to the gory visions he’d been suffering.

His cabin had been scrubbed clean since his last visit to the shore, and incense had been buillowing fragrant smoke about the room all afternoon. James had taken supper in his room, appetite back with a vengeance. Cookson had prepared him a whole roasted hen, cooked apples, seeded bread and butter, rosemary carrots, and a hot johnny cake.

After consuming nearly half of everything, Hook washed his face and abled, comfortably full, to his bedchamber. He lit a lamp and moved forward into the dark, before a voice called out.

“That was quite an exuberant show,” a sickly-sweet voice crooned from his bed. Before Hook could take a defensive stance, a cool snap of the fingers caused all of the candles in the chamber to light.

Helena lay on Hook’s red duvet.

She wore a tattered black lace dress, long necklaces cascading down her breast, and her dozen bangles clacked as she raised her arm in greeting. Her blackened fingers seemed to extend into points, but this was only her black painted nails, and they wriggled like beetles when she waved.

“Hello, Hooky,” she murmured, a wicked smile playing about her lips. “Heard you were looking for me,” she told him, and spread her arms out. “Well, here I am.”

“Yes, I have been.”

“Tsk, liar. You’ve been nowhere near my woods. Afraid of the big, bad wolf, are we? Sending your men out for you?” Shame,” she sighed, leaning back into the down pillows. “I once thought you brave.”

James clenched his jaw together painfully, not wanting to say anything to anger this unpredictable force of a woman.

“Oh dear, I seem to have a struck a tender chord. Well, time is money, as they say. What do you want from me?” There was a look in her eye that hinted that she already knew.

“I believe you might be able to help me. I have been having visions.” James figured to get right to the point.

“What sort of visions?” Helena feigned interest, a cruel lilt in her voice.

It was in this moment that he realized that she, like Queenie appeared spotless. After a moment, a sharp laugh broke through her lips.

“Are they happy visions? Glimpses into the future perhaps?” She asked, a trickle of dark red blood dripping down her nose. “Or tales of the past?” A spider web crack of blue veins spread up her neck, and black liquid pooled around her lips. “Come on Jamie, spit it out!” She cried, almost gleefully. James looked away, repulsed.

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you though?”

Hook chanced a look to her, and started slightly as she was right in front of him now.

“Do you have these visions of everyone?” She asked, although like all of her questions, she seemed to know the answer.

Helena lifted his hook up, fondling it with care, and brought it to her cheek. Her other hand reached up his chest, running her fingers along the patterned vest.

James swallowed, looking away again.

“You do know. And you know how to get rid of them. Say it. Say the question you’ve been dying to ask.” She grinned, fingers tracing down the buttons of his vest to the top of his trousers. Here he grabbed her wrist to stop her from going any further.

“How many? How many do I have to kill to make them go away?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Oooh!” Helena wrenched her arm away and clapped wildly. “So, you are clever! I had hoped you would work that out.” She grinned again; her face spotless once more.

The wild-haired witch stepped away, running her hands along the bureau, fingers dipping in and out of the lamps dancing flames.

“Only one,” she told him, face flickering with shadows in the candlelight.

James frowned; hadn’t he killed already. Noting the confusion on his face, Helena smirked.

“Oh, not just any one. Someone dear-to-you,” she singsonged the last three words.

Hook’s heart sank.

Queenie.

“Who?” he feigned ignorance, which drew another cold, sharp laugh from the woman.

“Oh, you sly man. You want to play games with Helena. That’s alright.” She hummed, watching him like a cat stalking a mouse. “Tresses of gold and eyes of blue before unseen; face so noble and regal she could be a... Queen?”

“No.” James said sharply, and shook himself. “She is not dear to me.”

“You can lie to all but me, for I know who lies in your heart and her name is Queenie.” Helena cackled her cruel poems, flopping back onto the bed. “I see all. All that was. All to come. I know what you will do.”

“I will not kill an innocent.”

“When has that ever stopped you from getting what you want, James Hook?” Helena snapped coldly. “Shall I list them for you? Odette Phillips, skipping down bonny old London Town; Adriana Stone, the bird you sent to heaven; Rufio the--”

“Stop. I know.”

“William Potter, Callum O’Brady, Therese Clare, Puddles and Mudsy, Skylights--”

“Please, stop.” His voice cracked at the names of the long dead and desperately forgotten.

“All innocent. All dead after meeting you. Oh, admit it. Admit what you are. Only a creature like you could kill as you have. What are you, Hook? What are you?”

“I’m a monster, okay? I know that! I know I’ll be damned to the deepest circle of hell when I take my last breath. I know that no savior would atone for my sins.” James was shaking now, unable to meet her golden eyes.

“So why not take one more life? To save your mind for however long you have left on this earth?”

“I won’t.”

“Perhaps you know what I already know,” she beamed, kicking her feet up. “That there is a hope starting in that shriveled, black, little heart of yours.”

“What else can stop them?” He spoke as one condemned, voice hoarse. If that was the only way out of these hellish visions, he’d just as soon take a pistol to his own head. If that was the only way, this whole meeting was pointless.

“Well, I could lift them, of course.” Helena stated casually, sitting at the end of the bed now.

James turned slowly to look at her, an anger bubbling up inside of him that he had not felt in some time. Here she was tearing him down, kicking any hopes at sanity away, only to say she’d been able to fix it all this time. He swallowed the rage and walked to her, bending down on one knee, humbling himself before her.

“What’s your price?” There’s always a price.

The witch grinned.

“What do you have for me?”

James sighed out in relief and stood, stepping into his study to retrieve the Neverbird. He took the cage off of its stand and turned, only to have Helena standing before him again. The start she caused him made the cage shake slightly, and the somber bird cooed in fright.

“The rare Neverbird. I can offer you this.”

Helena reached up and touched the soft feathers through the bars. Her approving smile gave James hope, but then she looked at him in amusement.

“This will pay for my visit,” she told him, reaching up to take the cage from his hook. “And if this is all you have to offer--”

“Anything. I’ll give you anything.”

Helena jumped up and down on the balls of her bare feet.

“Oh, I do love it when they say that,” she said in a giddy voice. “Okay, let’s see,” Helena mused, setting the bird down and began looking around the room. She was toying with him now, deliberating on different items, holding up books to smell, running her fingers across his desk chair. “Oh, I know,” she said suddenly, a glint in her eye.

“Name it.”

Helena’s eyes dragged down Hook’s cadaverous figure slowly, tongue pressed against her teeth.

“I want your baby.”

To be continued...

#okay hi #y'all ready?#closed #part one: the witch

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sp00kworm · 4 years

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Please sir, any Collector x Reader? I'm dying of thirst. (you know me dear, I'd love any cute/soft reader with this bug madman.)

Hawk Eyes (Asa Emory [The Collector] / Reader)

The door to his office almost always never opened while he was inside. Working. It screamed to anyone in the hall that to disturb was to invoke his irritated and emotionless wrath. The new intern had squawked in his door for ten minutes before flouncing off to the lab to ensure his little test subjects were still healthy. They were looking at Dung Beetles. Not entirely fascinating work but their mating habits were of interest for the new paper. Asa felt the pounding behind his temples worsen as he reached for the aspirin in his drawer. Maybe it was just the lack of caffeine? He chewed a pill down before locking his computer. pulling on his coat as he prepared to walk through the cold to the coffee shop. It wasn’t far from the campus. They had to keep the students caffienated too.

He locked his office and walked, dark eyes glittering as he walked past the mirrored offices and out onto the pavement.

The coffee was hot in his grasp, and he pushed his glasses up to rub at his nose. His side ached. The slice in his side was a product of his own idiocy. Trusting a teenage girl not to act out. Now he was paying for it with agony. The aspirin was less than helpful at numbing the throbbing.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth and shifted his feet on the floor, sat as straight as he could manage in the padded seat. He’d taken the gloves off and felt naked. His fingers were long and chapped from the cold, knuckles dry from the houses of wearing black nitriles all night. Asa hoped he didn’t look tired. He didn’t want the pitying looks from others.

“Did you see the Hawk?”

A random question. No birds of prey tended to venture into the city. Asa looked at the park area across from himself and pondered the trees. Not tall enough for a bird of prey.

“A hawk?” The barista laughed at you, “Hawks don’t live around here.”

“Are you kidding?!” You took your coffee and grinned, “There’s a new mating pair settled up in the cathedral spire!” The excitement made his lips twitch. The same lip twitch only happened with a breakthrough in recent times. The bald man tilted his head, rubbing at the shaven hair over the back of his head.

“Whatever you say ‘twitcher’!” Your friend teased.

Your grumpy snarl was endearing.

Asa watched out of the corner of his eyes, the black shining orbs not really giving his position away. You approached timidly, camera around your neck and book in hand, coffee steaming in the other.

“Sorry, Sir, but do you mind if I sit here? Its just the birds are up there and I’d like to watch them for a bit.” You waited and tried not to flinch at his eyes. Black, the rims shining with green as he observed you, coldly looking you up and down before his lips twisted into a cool smile.

“Feel free.” He tugged his scarf from the table to let you place your book down, then sat quietly, leaned back, legs set apart as he drank the dark coffee in small sips, “Is it not uncommon for birds of prey to live here?”

He knew it was, but he wanted to hear the pitch and tone of your voice for a moment more.

“They seem to be after the pigeons, but otherwise yes, they’re pretty uncommon so far into the city.”

A nod and a low grumble.

If that was acknowledgement you didn’t know.

“You are a twitcher?” He asked off-handedly, calculating eyes falling on you.

“Ignore ‘Her’ up there. I just like to observe birds. Everything about them fascinates me.” You confessed, peering through the lens of the camera at the Hawk nest high in the cathedral spire.

The obsessive creature lover in him soared.

A new favourite to play with.

Asa let his lips quirk upwards.

“Would you like to look like one?” He asked, cogs whirring, wondering how wings would look in the curvature of your back. Metal pasted with the wings of tiger butterfiles wrapped around silk and dripping blood.

One to add to the collection.

“Buy me another coffee and maybe I’ll tell you more next time,” You squinted at his University name badge, “Doctor Emory.”

“Mmmm.” He clicked harshly in the back of his throat, “Is that a date?” He took his scarf from his lap and stood, watching the Hawk swoop down with pearlescent eyes.

“Show me your collection and I’ll show you mine, Asa.” You wiggled the bird spotters journal in front of him.

A fire lit in his gut.

Blood over nitrile covered hands. Thousand of butterfly wings.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#asa emory #the collector #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #the collector (2009)#the collection #the collector 2009 #the collection (2012)#the collection 2012 #slashers #reader insert #request #slasher reader insert #slasher

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xtruss · 4 years

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After 604 Years, White Storks are Nesting in Britain Again

Despite their 600-year absence, white storks have remained an important symbol in folklore, children’s stories, on pub and hotel signs, and in family names and nicknames down the centuries.

As part of ongoing efforts to restore nature in the U.K., a project is bringing beloved white storks back to the British countryside.

— July 15, 2020 | National Geographic | By Isabella Tree

A female white stork greets her mate as he brings nesting material to the top of an oak tree at Knepp Estate, in southeastern England. This year, white storks at Knepp became the first of their kind known to have bred in Britain since 1414.

Britain's White Stork Project, which aims to establish 50 breeding pairs by 2030, is part of a wider effort to restore nature.

KNEPP ESTATE, ENGLAND — High in an oak tree in the county of West Sussex, in southeastern England, a pair of free-flying white storks hatched three chicks. It was May 6, 2020, a landmark moment: It had been 604 years since the previous written record of white storks breeding anywhere in Britain. Two weeks after those first chicks emerged at Knepp Estate, another pair of storks, in another shaggy nest of sticks in a nearby oak, hatched three more.

“This achievement is beyond thrilling. We dreamed of this moment, and now the storks have done it—we have British-born chicks again!” says Tim Mackrill, a reintroduction expert with the White Stork Project. Launched in 2016, the project aims to establish 50 breeding pairs of white storks in southern Britain by 2030.

More than three feet tall, with snow-white bodies, black wings spanning seven feet, and long, red legs, white storks often nest on roofs in towns and villages across Europe, where they’re much loved. As spring migrants from wintering grounds in Kenya and Uganda and as far south as South Africa, they’re associated with good luck and rebirth—hence the fairy tale of white storks delivering new-born babies in slings from their beaks. The joyful bill-clattering of a courting pair atop their nest—a resonant knocking made by the rapid opening and closing of their beak, with head thrown back to amplify the sound through their throat pouch—associates white storks with marital tenderness.

No one knows for certain why storks disappeared from Britain, though their appearance on the menus of medieval banquets suggests that they may simply have been targeted for food. Despite their 600-year absence, however, white storks have remained an important symbol, featuring in folklore, children’s stories and illuminated manuscripts, on pub and hotel signs, and in family names and nicknames down the centuries. The White Stork Project hopes that excitement about the return of these charismatic birds will spark greater public interest in nature recovery in the U.K. and, perhaps, pave the way for more species reintroductions.

In recent months, the newcomers at Knepp indeed have been a cause for celebration—a distraction from the gloomy statistics of COVID-19 and a focus of public empathy, their actions even seeming to mirror those of humans under lockdown. At the end of March as people hunkered at home, the white storks began incubating their eggs. In mid-May with travel restrictions to nature areas in the U.K.lifted, the two sets of eggs hatched, allowing hundreds of visitors to see the chicks for themselves.

In the past few days, the first set of chicks have fledged the nest, flying down to the ground to feed on grasshoppers under the watchful eye of their parents and roosting in nearby trees at night. During the coming weeks, just as airline flights begin opening up and people take to the skies once more, the adventurous young storks will fly farther afield, perhaps even following their parents and popping over to Europe for a spell.

Although recent decades have been hard on white storks in Europe, they aren’t endangered. Draining of wetlands, habitat for amphibians and small fish the birds eat, and pesticide-driven absences of insects that supplement their diet, combined with fatalities from collisions with power lines, have led to declines in many parts of Europe. These losses in part have been offset by reintroductions in France, Italy, Spain, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Poland, and Sweden.

Emblems of a Wider Movement

In the U.K.—one of the most nature-depleted countries in the world, ranked 189th out of 218 countries, according to a Biodiversity Intactness Index run by the Predicts project—more than two-fifths of mammals, insects, birds, and other wildlife have seen significant declines since the 1970s. White storks are emblematic of a wider movement to repair nature in the country, of which Knepp Estate—run by my husband, Charlie Burrell, and me—is a pioneer.

To kickstart natural processes, in 2000 we began rewilding our 3,500 acres of depleted, loss-making farmland. This hinged on restoring the river, ponds, and wetlands, allowing thorny scrub and trees to regenerate, and introducing free-roaming herbivores such as old English longhorn cattle, Exmoor ponies, and Tamworth pigs as proxies of extinct aurochs, tarpans, and wild boars. Then we stood back and allowed nature to take over.

By browsing, rootling, trampling, wallowing, and dispersing seeds in their dung, these animals have created complex, novel ecosystems, swiftly and with astonishing results. Knepp is now a breeding hot spot for endangered nightingales, turtle doves, and purple emperor butterflies. It’s home to all five species of owls In the U.K. and 13 of the 18 bat species. More than 1,600 insect species have been recorded, many of them nationally rare. All these creatures have found haven at Knepp on their own, attracted by emerging habitats and food resources.

The white storks, however, have needed help to re-establish themselves. Every year, 20 or so of the birds venture to England from Europe, but finding no other storks nesting here, they fly on. Like herons and egrets, white storks nest in colonies for safety in numbers, social learning, and ease of finding a replacement should a mate die. Without this group reassurance, they’re unlikely to attempt to breed.

European reintroduction projects have pioneered a way of mimicking a colony by raising white storks in large pens in open countryside, using non-flying rescue birds and captive-bred birds with clipped wings, to attract wild storks. Eventually, wild birds breed with the captive storks, and their offspring migrate, returning loyally to their natal site. (Read about the resurgance of white storks in France.)

In 2016, the government-approved White Stork Project chose Knepp as its starter site. The project is a partnership among three private landowners and the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust, an international charity founded by writer Gerald Durrell to save species from extinction; the Roy Dennis Wildlife Foundation, experts in bird reintroductions across Europe; and Cotswold Wildlife Park, a privately owned zoo in Oxfordshire. Knepp’s biodiverse wetlands and grasslands and open-grown trees for nesting are perfect habitat for storks. (Coincidentally, the name of the village of Storrington, just nine miles from Knepp, is derived from Estorchestone, meaning Abode of the Storks in Saxon English. The village sign features two white storks.) Two other locations—Wadhurst Park Estate, in East Sussex, and Wintershall Estate, in Surrey—were identified for establishing supplementary release pens the following year.

Knepp welcomed the first cohort of 20 juvenile storks donated from Warsaw Zoo, in Poland, into its six-acre pen in December 2016. With them were four non-flying Polish wild adults—birds injured in road accidents or by power-lines—to help instill natural social behavior in the juveniles. This replicates successful reintroductions in Sweden and Alsace, in France, where a breeding program begun in 1976 has seen white stork numbers grow from fewer than 10 mating pairs to more than 600 today.

One of the nesting females at Knepp, a particularly bold five-year-old from the first set of Polish imports, flew to France in 2018, where she spent a year with wild birds before returning to Knepp to pair up with one of the storks in her pen. (We know this because of reported sightings identifying the conspicuous ring-tag on her leg.) Another GPS-tagged juvenile raised at Knepp migrated to Rabat, Morocco, last year and is now in Spain. The male of the other nesting pair is a wild bird, one of several already attracted by the presence of the new colony.

Native or Not?

Not everyone in the U.K. embraces the White Stork Project. Opponents argue that historical evidence for white storks in Britain is slim and that they shouldn’t be considered a native species. Alfred Newton in A Dictionary of Birds, published in 1896, thought the white stork “had never been a native or even inhabitant of this country.”

Moreover, critics say, for this “new” species to attain “native” status, the birds should form colonies on their own, without human involvement. They point to the spontaneous recent arrivals in southeastern England of little egrets and great white egrets. “I would rather…allow natural colonization of our birdlife,” says Lizzie Bruce, director of British Birds magazine. To her, the white stork effort “feels more like a vanity project, especially as the species is of least concern” for conservation triage.

Birders echo that sentiment on social media, saying it would be better to focus not on a flamboyant species that isn’t endangered but on birds, such as the tree sparrow, that are struggling to survive but have less obvious appeal. Some conservationists who worry about the effects white storks might have on habitats or prey species such as insects and amphibians have called for environmental impact studies. This seems an impossible challenge, given the potential extent of the birds’ feeding range in southeastern England, the relatively small number of storks involved, and the variety of their food sources, including earthworms.

None of these criticisms trouble Ian Newton, a former visiting professor of ornithology at the University of Oxford and former senior ornithologist at the Natural Environment Research Council, the U.K.’s leading public funder of environmental science. (Newton is not affiliated with the White Stork Project.) The white stork, he says, is represented in bone remains at the Bronze Age site of Jarlshof, in Shetland; the Iron Age site of Dragonby, in Lincolnshire; the Roman site of Silchester, in Hampshire; and the Saxon site at Westminster Abbey, in London—all from long before the previous written record, in 1416, of white storks nesting in Britain.

“If we restrict ourselves to reintroducing species well-recorded in the historical record, we would exclude from consideration all those species which disappeared earlier but for which Britain still offers suitable habitat,” such as Dalmatian pelicans, night herons, and eagle owls, Newton says. Reintroductions, to his mind, offer not only the joy of seeing lost species return but also great potential for conservation.

“Generally speaking, the more widespread a species within its natural range, the more abundant and secure it is in the longer term,” Newton says, adding that reintroductions of charismatic species attract “an enormous amount of interest and support from the general public. This can benefit local economies and attract money into conservation that would otherwise be spent on other activities.” Further, the storks themselves may bolster other species. In Europe, their gigantic, shaggy nests provide nesting habitats for numerous birds such as starlings and house and tree sparrows.

Knepp’s white storks have already become something of a media phenomenon, with extensive coverage domestically but also by French and Polish TV. More than 2,500 visitors have seen the chicks since COVID-19 restrictions were relaxed, and 20 miles away, a gigantic mural on the city of Brighton’s busy North Road depicts white storks flying in to feed their chicks. The mural, expressing a heightened appreciation for both clean air and nature under lockdown, exhorts us to Let Nature Breathe—a suggestion, perhaps, that the U.K.’s magnificent white storks indeed are heralding new beginnings.

— Editor's note: This story was corrected on July 17, 2020, to say white storks had been gone from Britain for 604 years and that the juvenile that migrated to Morocco in 2019 is now in Spain.

— Isabella Tree is a freelance journalist and author. In 2018, her book Wilding—Returning Nature to Our Farm won the Richard Jefferies Award for Nature Writing and was voted one of the 10 best science books by Smithsonian magazine.

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imagitory · 5 years

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Review: The Lion King (2019) [spoilers]

NAAAAAANTS IGONYAMA BAGITI BABA -- !

Ahem. So...I just got back from seeing the new Lion King remake, and I guess it’s time to talk about it. For those of you who wish to avoid spoilers... *exhales heavily* how do I say this kindly, um -- you don’t need to go see this. Like, really, you don’t. Not to rain on anyone’s parade, but you would miss absolutely nothing watching the original instead of this one, and honestly, I think it’s fair to say you’ll have much more fun watching the original too. As much as I haven’t loved Disney’s line of recent remakes, I at least found something in most of the films I saw that I could praise, but with this one? I don’t recall ever being so utterly bored sitting in a movie theater in my life.

If you would like a more detailed opinion, here’s a cut!

The Good!

+For once, Disney decided to hire a cast full of singers that don’t require autotune, including Donald Glover, Billy Eichner, and of course Beyonce, as well as quite a few lovely people in the chorus like Brown Lidiwe Mkhize (who sang The Circle of Life). Even some of the performers with weaker singing voices like John Oliver were able to hold their own well enough.

+The voice acting overall wasn’t bad. I’ll have to leave it at that, though, since this is supposed to be the positive section.

+The Circle of Life and Can You Feel the Love Tonight? were well-performed, though I will be getting to other issues I had with them later.

+Zazu was actually given a bit more pathos rather than just exclusively being comic relief. He not only tries to protect Nala and Simba from the hyenas, but he also rushes to go get the lionesses when Simba’s in trouble, makes a distraction for Nala so she doesn’t get caught by Scar, and even helps a little more in the final battle. I won’t act like he was an improvement on the orginal exactly, as the best compromise would’ve been to have him be both funny and supportive, but at least there was an attempt to give him some depth.

+As much as I’ll critique the animation further down, I will give the animators credit for its realism. A lot of hard work was obviously put in, and it shows.

The Not-So-Good...

+The number one problem with this movie is, as I feared, the animation. I can respect that this is my opinion and many others might find some charm in how “real” everything looks, but I’m sorry -- musicals =/= realistic . Musicals are supposed to be over-the-top. They are supposed to be theatrical. Hell, even the Broadway production of The Lion King understood that to tell this story without animated lions, you had to treat it like a folktale. The story was never about lions -- it was a human story told with lions. The ideas of family -- responsibility -- duty -- leadership -- grief -- hope -- these are human values. The Lion King was inspired by Shakespeare’s Hamlet. It also has ripples of the Moses story, given that it revolves around someone running away from their home and responsibility, only to realize their true calling and go back to save their people. And you know something? I am positive that the filmmakers knew full well how ridiculous these National-Geographic-esque animated creatures would look suddenly bursting into song -- that’s why they tried at every single opportunity to depict the musical sequences in wide, impersonal shots that barely correspond to the rhythm or mood of the song at all. Unless it’s The Circle of Life, which is literally a shot-for-shot recreation of the original sequence accompanied by a song sung by none of the characters on screen, the only way that these supposedly “realistic” creatures could communicate energy or emotion during the song sequences was by running and climbing things. And in the end, it just looks lazy and dull. There’s no energy in either the shots or the editing. Hakuna Matata and I Just Can’t Wait to Be King suffer the most because of this, as those songs were so dependent on bright colors, spontaneity, and enthusiasm, but none of the songs are done justice with this animation.

+Another issue with the animation is in the characters themselves. As realistic as it looks in the textures of the fur and the way the animals move, it is utterly lifeless in practice. I swear to God, there are points where these animals looked stuffed, they’re so blank and hollow. You know those live action movies, like Cats and Dogs, where they would have real dogs and cats play the characters and then just “fix” their mouths with post-production CGI to make it look like they’re talking, even if their eyes and faces still end up looking so blank that it never looks like they’re saying what’s coming out of their mouths? THAT’S THE ENTIRE MOVIE. It didn’t matter how good the voice acting was, because it was invalidated by the lack of expression of the characters who were supposedly saying the lines. The only character in this movie who seemed to have any emotion in his eyes was Scar, and that was because his animated model was apparently given permission to narrow his eyes more, presumably to look more “eeeeeviiiiiiil~.” Even the hyenas were just given hollow black eyes that only ever looked alien and inhuman most of the time (clearly to remind you that they’re the bad guys) -- there were no emotions other than “mwehehehe we’re gonna eat you” on their faces the entire movie. But yeah, think of all the really emotional scenes in this movie. Think of Mufasa seeing Simba hanging on that tree -- the fear in his face as Simba almost loses his grip on the branch -- the pain and fear in Simba’s expression when Mufasa puts him up on a small ledge, only to get yanked backward by the wildebeest and disappear from view -- the struggle in Mufasa’s body language as he tries to climb up the edge of the gorge -- the betrayal and horror in Mufasa’s expression when Scar reveals his true colors -- the desperation, disbelief, horror, and grief in Simba’s face when he finds his father and screams at the open air for help. ...Yeah. Now imagine all of those scenes being acted out by EMOTIONLESS PUPPETS. That’s even what Mufasa looks like when he’s thrown backwards off the cliff -- a puppet. A scene that has left people in tears almost made me snort with laughter because of how bad it looked!

+The animation’s realism also, as others pointed out when the trailers first came out, made it very difficult to pick out individual characters. When Nala grew up, there wasn’t even a way to tell that she was the youngest of the lionesses -- they all looked like clones of each other. There’s a bit where one of the hyenas (I guess he’s supposed to be Banzai, but I guess he’s been renamed something else?) confuses Scar for Mufasa at a distance and I almost burst out laughing because it was like the movie characters themselves even realized how identical all of the lions look. Simba’s face “turning into Mufasa’s” in the water had no emotional impact at all because you could barely tell that anything had just happened.

+Geezus, and I thought that Beauty and the Beast took too many ideas from the original? Oh boy. This movie took so much from the original, it was like the filmmakers copied something they found on the Internet for a school assignment and then added and switched around a couple of lines just so they wouldn’t be accused of plagiarism. There were quite a few points while watching this where I was going, “Oooookay, and this is where Simba sees a lizard. ...Yup, there it is. He’s gonna try to roar twice. ...Yup, and...yup. And on the third try, he’s going to roar loud enough for it to echo, and we’ll cut to the top of the gorge. ...Called it. And wildebeest in three, two, one...” Now, of course, knowing what’s going to happen shouldn’t reduce suspense -- if anything, when something suspenseful is done well, it doesn’t matter if you know what happens, because now you’re excited to see those things happen. But in this? How could I be excited when they recycled almost every joke, almost every shot, almost every scene, only with half the energy and sincerity? Even Beauty and the Beast tried to throw in some twists now and again, even if I didn’t end up liking most of them...the only things I can think of in regards to “changes” were some extra scenes that didn’t add much of anything, such as Scar leaning even more into his “Claudius” role and trying to court Simba’s mother Sarabi. Oh, and on that note...

+...The original movie was about an hour and a half long. This one was two hours. You want to know how they stretched that run-time out? Largely by adding in extended nature sequences. Perhaps if you really like the “realistic” animation, you might enjoy the gratuity of it, but some of them just got ridiculous. Remember how in the original, Scar caught a mouse and kind of taunted it? Now we get almost a whole minute just watching the mouse running around and doing nothing before Scar even shows up. Remember how we got a short, smooth transition from Pride Rock to Rafiki’s tree with a rainfall and soothing music? Have one that’s twice as long and is devoid of any of the epic, solemn atmosphere. Remember how we got a cute little giggle when Timon and Pumbaa sang The Lion Sleeps Tonight, only for it to get interrupted by Nala’s arrival? Now that song is treated like a full musical number with lots of danc -- sorry, walking around aimlessly, because it’d be stupid if animals actually danced or something. Remember how Simba collapses into some leaves, which sets loose some dust which in a ten-second-long cut scene is blown through the wind into Rafiki’s hand? Now it lasts almost two whole minutes and involves a tuft of Simba’s fur landing in a river, being picked up by a bird, becoming stuffing in a nest, being tossed out of the nest, being accidentally eaten by a giraffe, being shat out by that giraffe, being picked up by a dung beetle -- OH, COME ON. NOW YOU’RE JUST SEARCHING FOR EXCUSES TO DRAG THIS MOVIE OUT.

+I love James Earl Jones, but he should not have reprised his role as Mufasa. I’m sorry, but the man is 88 years old now, and he just sounded so tired. He didn’t show even half of the energy and enthusiasm he had playing the part the first time. If he was Simba’s grandfather, that’d be one thing, but he’s not. Half of what makes Mufasa’s death so tragic is how alive and young he seemed and how close his bond was with his friends Rafiki and Zazu and his family Simba and Sarabi, but thanks to Jones’s low-key performance and the lack of emotion in Mufasa’s animation, all of that is lost.

+Just like with Jafar in the recent Aladdin remake, this movie tries to give Scar some depth, but the halfhearted attempt only serves to take away what made Scar a great villain in the first place -- namely, his dry wit, ruthlessness, talent for manipulation, dynamic attitude, arrogance, immaturity, and most of all passion. Combine this not-deliciously-evil-but-definitely-not-sympathetic characterization with such bland animation that neither conveys energy or intrigue, and we’re once again left with a very forgettable, uninteresting villain. Come on, Disney, you used to be so good at writing villains -- just because you’re trying to make a more “realistic” story doesn’t mean your villain can’t crack a smile every-so-often, geezus!

+If Sarabi was chasing off hyenas with the lionesses, how in the world did she and the lionesses get back to Pride Rock fast enough for them to be lounging around when Simba came to get Nala? Scar and Simba’s interaction isn’t nearly long enough to encompass Sarabi finishing up with the hyenas and returning home. This is a problem that comes from how much this remake copies from the original -- because it wants so many scenes to play out identically to the original, it gives any subtle line changes the writers do make the potential to create plot holes.

+Oh yeah, and the joke of Simba pouncing on Zazu really doesn’t work if we see Simba getting ready the entire time and Zazu makes it easy for Simba by spinning around in circles looking at nothing. One would think Zazu was trying to let Simba pounce on him.

+There’s no kind way to put this -- Timon and Pumbaa were just flat-out INSUFFERABLE in this. Not only were their deliveries of lines from the original movie pretty awful, but they also added in a bunch of new, often fourth-wall-breaking jokes that just made me hide my face in my hands and groan. In Hakuna Matata in particular, they act offended by Simba not being more excited when they first say the phrase, ruin the joke of Pumbaa farting by having him say it and Pumbaa then being upset that Timon didn’t interrupt him, AND give Simba a hard time for continuing the song until it fades out by saying that Simba’s “gained 400 pounds” since they started it! This isn’t even touching on how TERRIBLE Seth Rogen was as Pumbaa while singing -- like, I know that’s supposed to be part of the joke, but Ernie Sabella was “a bad singer” by being over-the-top, not by being off-pitch and painful to listen to! Not to mention that Sabella packed so much more characterization into his line deliveries -- the chasm of quality between Sabella and Rogen’s performances all the more highlighted to me the difference between an actor and a voice actor. You can’t just get away with speaking your lines in an ordinary voice when you’re voice acting -- you need to emote solely with your voice, as your face is not doing any of the work, and with animation this emotionless and bland, one really needed to have given 120% in their voice work for it to be even passable. (And honestly, none of the actors stood out well performance-wise...not that they should have to singlehandedly bear the burden of depicting their characters’ emotions just with their voices: this is an animated movie, not a radio drama!) As if breaking the fourth wall for no reason, telling bad jokes, and singing poorly wasn’t enough, Timon and Pumbaa also come across as infinitely more selfish and mean-spirited. They say they’re outcasts, and yet there’s a whole friggin’ community of animals in their jungle home. Simba actually hears Timon and Pumbaa selfishly decide to “keep him” because having a creature bigger than them around might help them out. Timon flat-out tells Simba to only look after himself and no one else. Whereas in the original film, Timon and Pumbaa almost raise Simba like adopted parents, having fun with him and genuinely showing concern for him -- here, Timon and Pumbaa act more like a pair of frat boys who adopted the “new kid” in college and induct him into their friend circle, even though, yeah, Simba first meets them as a cub and they’re already adults. Rather than just laugh at the thought of “royal dead guys watching them” for a quick moment, they openly roar with laughter at Simba, dragging it out even when it’s very clear Simba is hurt by their amusement and not even bothering to apologize. At least in the original, Simba acted like it was funny and then left abruptly, but here? Simba never laughed or showed any amusement, so it came across as Timon and Pumbaa bullying him. Oh yeah, and speaking of bullying, remember how there was that one-off pop culture reference where Pumbaa gets mad at being called a pig? Now that’s been replaced with Pumbaa saying he doesn’t like bullies -- seems like that would’ve been a lovely thing to set up earlier, maybe to give that line some emotional pay-off, but nope! There’s no joke AND there’s no point. But you want to know what made me hate these two beyond reason in this movie? You want to know what finally pushed me over the edge? They broke the fourth wall beyond repair by -- rather than randomly putting on a hula skirt and dancing goofily, because of course we’re a SERIOUS animated movie, one that’s so REAL -- singing Be Our Guest from Beauty and the Beast, French accent and all. ...Excuse me for a minute. *buries her face into a pillow and screams in rage*

+By the way, those other animals who live in the jungle Timon and Pumbaa are from and therefore invalidate their assertion of being “outcasts”? Completely pointless. They don’t even come with Timon and Pumbaa and fight for the Pridelands! You could have cut them completely and lost nothing.

+As much as Hakuna Matata was the most irritating of the numbers, I Just Can’t Wait to Be King and especially Be Prepared were just pathetic. I Just Can’t Wait to Be King largely suffered, again, due to the “realism” of the animation, but the slow editing and even the vocals slowed the whole sequence down and sucked out any energy or excitement from the piece. I’ll give credit to Nala and Simba’s voice actors for their vocal quality, but there was still none of the spontaneity and recklessness in their voices that the song requires, so it just came across as Disney karaoke, rather than anything professional. But Be Prepared was easily the worst of the lot. It would be a challenge to try to evoke the level of dread and demented thrill you get from the original song sequence, but here, the filmmakers didn’t even try. Not only do we only get part of the song, but Scar’s voice actor Chitwetel Ejiofor barely sings a word of it and brings none of the dynamic, power-hungry, conniving, almost hypnotic mania that’s supposed to define Scar in that moment. He’s mostly just shouting like an old man yelling at a kid to get off his lawn -- there’s no attempt at persuasion or temptation in his voice at all. And just like in most of the other musical numbers, the only way Scar’s character model can emote during his song is to climb on things. Even in songs that were performed well, there were notable problems. The Circle of Life was basically animated on autopilot, replicating every single shot without taking any time to show any genuine emotion anywhere, whether when Zazu and Rafiki greeted Mufasa or when Simba sneezed away the dust in his face...and Can You Feel the Love Tonight? Haha, yeah, right -- more like “Can You Feel the Love in the Mid-Afternoon”! It was absolutely comical, hearing them sing “tonight” when the entire sequence was done in daylight!

+I’ve always liked The Lion King, but...wow, after seeing this remake and how much they tried to lean into the “hyenas as outsiders” idea in this, I have to acknowledge that there are some uncomfortable elements to this story. In the original, we solely focus on Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed with other hyenas in the background, so them being outside the Pridelands could just be seen as the case of a few bad apples, rather than it being an indictment on an entire group. But here, in this version, Shenzi is depicted more seriously as the leader of all the hyenas and it’s established that the war between lions and hyenas has gone on for a long time. Basically this movie turns Shenzi into Zira from The Lion King 2...and yeah, that makes it so that the hyenas -- as the outsiders -- should theoretically be slightly sympathetic, right? You know, to show that it’s wrong to cast others out because they look or act different from you? Nope! Nope, they’re all just evil! They’re manifestations of greed and hunger with no potential for redemption whatsoever. They’re not like our good, pale-colored lionesses who all look the same -- they’re dirty, and conniving, and they seek to creep out of the shadows and leech on everything the lions hold dear. I could very, very easily see how some vile, disgusting people could embrace such a narrative in this current climate, seeing themselves in the lions trying to “take their land back” from the shadowy, evil hoard of creatures who have come from outside to tear down their way of life. I can’t act like this adaptation added something that wasn’t at all in the original movie, as, let’s be honest, it plagiarized most of it...but perhaps because of how they reused this story and in some cases leaned into some elements of that story, this remake has very, very bad timing in when it was released. Those elements of the story probably wouldn’t have been read into it back in the 90′s, given the relative stability of the political landscape, but now? Now I could see how people could read it that way. It’d be like trying to make a movie like Independence Day, where national monuments get blown up, right after 9/11.

Looking back on what I just saw, I’m still absolutely stunned. Never before have I felt like my time has been more wasted than when I decided to sit down and watch this movie. I’ve tried to find shreds of praise, but whenever I try, it feels like I’m grasping at straws, only to fall back into a big pool of “blah.” I have never been so bored by a movie in my life -- and if there’s anything Disney, and especially Disney musicals, should never be, it’s boring. I would still say Maleficent makes me the most angry of Disney’s recent remakes, considering that that one openly insulted the original it was based off and this one is just clearly so up the original’s ass that it’s obnoxious...but this one was easily the biggest disappointment. I went in with almost no expectations, and yet still came out disappointed in the result. That, I think, says a lot. I could see someone who simply wants to see some cute animals and ride a bit on the nostalgia train enjoying this...but forgive me, but that bar is way too low. Disney is capable of doing so much better -- the true Lion King, the 1994 classic that broke records and surpassed all audience expectation, is more than enough evidence of that.

Overall Grade: D-

#the lion king (2019)#the lion king #disney #the lion king spoilers #opinion #oh boy here i go #reviews #disney remakes #remakes

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that-shamrock-vibe · 4 years

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Disney+ What To Watch: My Top 10 Favourite Disney Live-Action Remakes

So we’ve covered the main Walt Disney Studios animated movies, and I am trying to find categories that I can slot other Disney animated movies into, but for now we are going to follow Disney’s latest trend and jump into the live-action field with my personal favourite top 10 live-action Disney remakes.

Now of course Snow White and the Huntsman will not be on this list primarily because it is not a movie released by Walt Disney Studios and also because it took me three attempts just to get through it. But I will also not be including sequels as they are not reworking animated movies but continuing the stories of the remade live-action movies, so 102 Dalmatians, Alice Through the Looking Glass and Maleficent: Mistress of Evil are also not in contention.

Also remakes of live-action movies, even if those live-action movie are in some form animation hybrids, also will not count, largely because I am only counting those under the official Walt Disney Animated Studios banner but also because there’s no real point.

As always please remember that these rankings and opinions are purely my own, I am not saying these movies are factually worse than others or better than others I am merely saying this is how I view them.

#10. The Lion King

The reasoning for this movie being at #10 despite how well it has done compared to other live-action remakes is purely because I had to check and make sure the title gif I am using for this entry was the one from the live-action remake and not the 1994 animated movie...I should not have to do that!

The problem this movie has, as many critics and fans have pointed out and I believe as I did in my review, is that this is effectively a shot-for-shot remake of said original animated movie. That doesn’t mean it’s not good because the original was a phenominal piece of cinema for the genre and the studio, but it does leave a question as to the relevance of bothering to remake something practically identical with the only USP being that this movie is completely CGI in an attempt to give it the “live-action” treatment.

That being said, I was somewhat entertained by this movie, but by different parts than how I was in the original. For instance, in the original Rafiki was my favourite character in terms of comedy and just as personal preference, here he barely gets anything to do and instead the likes of Sarabi and the Hyenas are more fleshed out.

I did enjoy how the Hyenas showed more of a pecking order in this version, with Shenzi this time being depicted more as the clan leader who is somewhat of a left-hand to Scar in the same way that Faora was to Zod in Man of Steel.

Also Sarabi, who is somewhat forgettable in the animated movie as she’s barely in it until really the end to the point where me saying she was Simba’s mother is the only real jolt some fans may have to remembering her, and the other lionesses had that one really tense scene with Nala trying to escape Pride Rock without being detected by the Hyenas and Scar in order to find help. I can imagine that being a very hard level on the game-version of this movie because I always hated stealth levels like this particularly in the earlier Harry Potter games.

Timon and Pumbaa come in and kind of steal the show half-way through and notably there is a bit more of them raising SImba even as an adult and both Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen do respectable jobs in their respective roles, in fact some have argued they are the best part of the movie because they bring some level of excitement to an otherwise bland remake.

To be fair, one of my favourite parts is when Timon begins to sing “Be Our Guest” as a way of distracting the Hyenas as live bait along with Pumbaa, this of course is reworked from the original when it was them performing a hula-inspired performance which I still love to this day, but this reworking did make me laugh.

Outside of that though, everyone really fills their roles as they did in the original, and it comes across as simply a pale imitation in comparison. It’s not like the other remakes where there was something new enough and exciting enough to differentiate the two. Yet this movie is longer than the original because the stuff that either is new or extended from the original feels like it has just been either shoehorned in because maybe the writers or Favreau himself believed they were lacking in originality or maybe they believed what they actually had was exciting.

The biggest misstep of this type is the almost three minutes spent following a piece of Simba’s mane on its journey from falling off Simba to reaching Rafiki and thus him discovering Simba is in fact alive. In the original, this wasn’t even a 30 second segment and they played up Rafiki’s shamanism a lot more to deduce this fact, but here the hair goes from river, to birds nest, to a giraffe’s digestive system, to a ball of dung, to an ant line until finally reaching him...all the while only promoting the admittedly impressive CGI.

Another example of this is at the beginning of the movie where there is more focus on the field mouse that Scar toys with before losing the opportunity to make it lunch, we spend a good 30 seconds to a minute more than the original as the mouse makes its way up to Scar’s den rather than simply starting off there. I don’t feel this is as big an offence as I do the hair scene but the time could easily be spent elsewhere.

There’s also, I feel, a disadvantage with trying to make these animals as realistic as they did. 2019 struggled with “realistic” CGI animals from The Lion King to Cats and Sonic the Hedgehog, and while Sonic fixed itself by having the titular protagonist’s design changed to a more accurate look, it is a shame that The Lion King did not also have the same idea because giving these lions more animated features may have helped show the emotional hot points of the movie, particularly Mufasa’s death and the emotion on Simba’s face.

It’s also a shame that the voice actors are underwhelming outside of Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen. I do appreciate that they cast regionally-appropriate actors for the most part, even bringing back James Earl Jones for one of his two most famous roles, but there in lies the problem, he simply performed an almost line-for-line redo of what he originally did in the animated version. It’s great hearing him again but I could have just watched the original again to hear him not do anything different.

You also have Beyoncé who fails at both scene-stealing acting and singing performances with her new original song which is hardly in the movie. However, while Beyoncé still delivers on star quality, she also outshines the movie’s main lead Donald Glover who feels like an acting school work experience placement compared to Beyoncé.

Finally the music, forget the rolling turn of mane, this movie butchers and wastes one of the best Disney Villain songs in history by having Chiwetel Ejiofor talk his way through one chorus line of “Be Prepared”...next to that having a lackluster shot-for-shot remake of “Circle of Life” didn’t seem so bad.

Overall, this live-action remake simply felt more like fan-service or even like Jon Favreau was too scared to touch what had come before and so just decided that simply having a fully CGI version of an animated classic was enough...but aside from simply looking at it, there is nothing really wondrous about this movie.

I can see why people like the movie, but I can’t really understand why people defend the movie even from a nostalgic point of view, I mean seriously just watch the original version you’ll get the same feeling out of it.

So what do you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Disney+ What to Watch Top 10s as well as more Top 10 Lists and other posts.

#the lion king #the lion king 2019 #disney #disney+#disney plus #disney+ what to watch top 10s #disney+ what to watch #my top 10 favourite disney live-action remakes #disney live-action #disney live-action remakes

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warriorsfireandwater · 5 years

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Chapter Seven

Firepaw’s first catch came after nearly half a moon of training. It was a frog, and though it was a small thing, Dawnwhisker had praised him and told him that he would be catching even more prey soon. She’d sent him back to camp to put it on the fresh-kill pile, saying that it was important to show the Clan he was capable of hunting.

Firepaw was back in camp now. He tossed the frog on the pile, and felt a little rush of pride. It was meager, and he knew it, but it felt good to finally contribute something.

Unfortunately, the first cat to notice was Silverpaw. The tom padded up to the fresh-kill pile, and stared down at the dead frog. “Did you finally catch something, Drypaw?” he sneered. “It’s almost enough for a kit to eat.”

Firepaw sighed tiredly. “Don’t you have the elders’ nests to change, Silverpaw?”

Silverpaw ignored the reply. “I bet you stepped on it on accident and didn’t even really catch it. Did you even thank StarClan for the lucky catch?”

Firepaw flattened his ears and growled. No, he hadn’t, but he couldn’t flat-out admit it to Silverpaw. He still didn’t know the first thing about customs or StarClan, and though Dawnwhisker had mentioned giving thanks to StarClan one time, it had slipped his mind.

Silverpaw reached out and hooked a plump fish off the pile with his claws. “You’ll never be a real warrior,” he hissed. “Remember that, kittypet.” He picked up the fish in his jaws and padded away, tail held high.

Firepaw bristled with fury. I hate Silverpaw! He thought, lashing his tail. I haven’t even done anything to him! He whipped around towards the reeds that bordered the camp and padded back through them. I’ll show him, he thought. I’ll go catch more prey and throw it right in his face!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Firepaw had wandered up the river for a while, still seething. He’d missed two birds, confused a snail for a mouse, and hadn’t caught a thing. I’m not going back until I catch something!

He continued up along the river until he found himself at the human bridge. Dawnwhisker had told him that, while ThunderClan territory was close to the other side, the land across it was neutral territory until you got to Fourtrees. So perhaps it would be alright to cross? He hadn’t seen the other side yet, and there could be prey over there.

Firepaw cautiously padded onto the stone surface. The bridge was flat, and made of small rocks - not smooth like a road was. Seeing as it wasn’t going to collapse under his weight, he hurried on along to the other side.

As Firepaw reached the other end, he heard furious yowls to his right. He jumped, and whipped around to face the source of the sound. Fear pulsed through him. Is ThunderClan invading? Or is this their territory now?

But it seemed the yowls weren’t meant for him. As he spotted the ThunderClan patrol, far down the length of the river, he realized they were chasing something, and they were all running right towards the bridge. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out what they were pursuing.

There was a large, long-furred gray cat racing on ahead of the patrol. A cat? he thought. Why are they chasing a cat?

But they stopped as the treeline ended, as though that was where the border lay. The ThunderClan cats spat and hissed, before one tom called, “Don’t come back, you mange-pelt!”

The gray cat didn’t stop. They continued to run on, either unaware that the pursuers gave up, or simply wanting to put more distance between them. The cat continued to run, and they were getting ever-closer to Firepaw.

The ginger tom bristled as he realized that the cat had spotted him. The stranger narrowed their eyes and charged on.

“Stop!” Firepaw snarled. “This is RiverClan territory!”

“Hah!” The gray cat spat. “Just a puny apprentice. Get out of my way, flea!”

His eyes widened. She isn’t going to stop! Firepaw held his ground as the molly charged right for him and leaped. The apprentice dodged to the side, and she missed. The molly landed sloppily, and grunted as she regained her footing and turned to face him.

“Hmm, quick,” she muttered. “But you won’t stop me. I must get to RiverClan.”

“Well, you can’t!” Firepaw spat, still startled by the sudden attack. “Go away. Cross this bridge and you’ll be a trespasser.”

The molly stared at him before breaking out into rough laughter. “You’re brave, apprentice, but you’re stupid. You think you can beat me?” Her laughter cut off as she coughed loudly.

Firepaw got a good look at her as she continued coughing. The molly was large, with thick fur, but her pelt was messy, and it was covered in dirt and burrs. He could smell her unpleasant stench from where he stood, a fox-length away. She’s either sick or hasn’t groomed herself in a moon! he thought. Maybe both. She had a wide, flat face, unlike any cat he’d seen before.

She curled her lip, revealed a set of yellowed teeth. “Quit staring at me, scrap. Get out of my way. Don’t you know who I am?”

Firepaw growled. “I don’t care. You’re an intruder.”

The molly narrowed her eyes and looked him up and down. “You aren’t Clanborn, are you?” she asked, before smirking. “Can’t be a rogue, either, you’re too small for that. Could be RiverClan if it weren’t for that thin fur of yours. A kittypet, perhaps?”

How could she tell? Firepaw’s eyes widened. He had lost his kittypet scent in the time he’d been with RiverClan, and there was no way anyone would have happily admitted to outsiders that they’d accepted a kittypet into their ranks. “I’m a RiverClan apprentice!” he finally snapped, a little too indignantly.

The ragged molly laughed again. “Thought I’d seen it all,” she wheezed, shaking with mirth. “Then I see that RiverClan brought a kittypet into their Clan!” She shook her wide head. “Get out of my way,” she repeated. “Last chance before I beat you into mousedust.”

Firepaw wasn’t fooled. She can’t be very healthy, not with the way she landed and was having a coughing fit. She must be exhausted by being chased by ThunderClan, too. “Stay off our territory!”

The molly narrowed her eyes. She braced herself, as though to spring, but she wheezed once before she began coughing loudly again. “Oh, fox-dung,” she swore, before doubling over.

Firepaw saw his chance. He darted forward and swiped, striking her shoulder. The molly stumbled, but she retaliated quickly. She ducked down and sank her teeth into his leg. Firepaw screeched and dropped to the ground. Lashing out with a hind paw, he caught her right in the forehead and pummeled her until she released him. She crouched, eyes clenched shut, and Firepaw quickly stood again and prepared to strike.

He hesitated. The molly hadn’t moved again. She groaned quietly before she flopped over onto side. “Well?” she choked out, as he continued to stand there. “Finish me off, then. You’re a warrior apprentice dealing with an intruder, remember?”

Firepaw frowned. She might be an intruder, but she’s old and weak, he thought. I still don’t really know the Code… but aren’t we supposed to take care of injured cats? “No,” he finally said. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“Ugh,” the she-cat moaned, her head dropping to the ground. “Why are apprentices always so useless? Can’t you see I’m wasting away? And if you won’t let me into RiverClan, you might as well do me away for good.”

Firepaw continued to study her silently. She’s got to be a Clan cat, with the way she’s talking, he thought. So why is she alone? “You’re tired and weak,” he pointed out. “It would be cruel to kill you. Besides, I’m pretty sure the Code is pretty against that sort of thing.” Not that I think I could actually… even do that.

“Bah,” the she-cat wheezed. “You don’t even know the Code.” She was silent for a few moments, before she lifted her head again. “Well. If you aren’t going to kill me, and you aren’t going to let me go to RiverClan, do something useful and get me something to eat.”

Firepaw flicked his tail. “You can’t order me around,” he retorted. But she must be starving… I guess I could try. Not that I know I’ll actually catch something. “But fine. I will. Stay here.”

The ragged molly shifted slightly so she could lay her wide head on her paws. “And if you're going to feed me, bring me something good, eh? No rotting toads or meatless lizards.”

Lizards? Firepaw thought. Nobody here even eats lizards. He shook his head and turned around to cross the bridge again. I came out here to hunt prey anyway, so…

It took him awhile, but he did manage to catch an old magpie. It was a sloppy catch, but he’d done it. Firepaw returned to the molly with the bird in tow. She was still right where he’d left her, at the edge of the bridge. She lifted her head, and though her expression betrayed nothing, her dull eyes seemed to brighten at the prospect of prey.

Firepaw dropped it in front of her nose. “Eat,” he said.

The molly sniffed it and huffed. “It's old,” she complained. “It'll be all stringy.”

“It's still fresh-kill, you ungrateful old mange-pelt,” Firepaw snapped. Twice today he’d had cats mock the only two catches he’d ever made, and the old she-cat bossing him around and complaining was all the more irritating.

The molly just let out a throaty laugh. “I’d rip out your whiskers if I wasn't so tired.” She sniffed the magpie again before she began to pluck out the feathers to get to the flesh. Firepaw sat down, tail twitching. Well… now what do I do? I can't just leave her here, but—

“Firepaw!” came a furious yowl. “Are you eating your catch?”

Firepaw froze. He recognized the voice as Leopardfur’s before he looked over his shoulder to see the deputy leading a patrol right over the bridge towards them. Behind her was Weaselfoot, Beetleclaw, and Silverpaw—three of the cats who had no love for Firepaw. He grimaced. This isn't going to be good.

“He's not even eating it!” Beetleclaw spat. “He's feeding a rogue!”

The patrol caught up to him easily. The strange molly made as though to get up, but she winced, and stayed where she was. Beetleclaw and Weaselfoot stood near her, hissing. Leopardfur stared at the molly for a long moment. “That's not a rogue, you daft minnow-brain!” she growled. “That's the ShadowClan medicine cat. Mirestorm, you've fallen on hard times, it seems.”

“No one’s called me Mirestorm in seasons,” the molly wheezed. Her ears were flat, and it seemed she had the sense not to be as snappish as she had been with Firepaw. “Not since Brokenstar became leader, anyhow.”

Leopardfur twitched her ear. “Then what do we call you?”

“They all called me Yellowfang,” she muttered. “Feel free to call me that or not. Brokenstar sure seemed think it was hilarious.”

“Yellowfang, then,” Leopardfur said. “Why've you come? Unless you're here on business with Mudfur, you are a trespasser.” She eyed Firepaw, disappointment clear in her eyes. “Though it seems our apprentice believed you were a welcome guest.”

“That's not what I—” Firepaw tried to explain, but Leopardfur lashed her tail.

“Silence,” she ordered. “You can give your excuses to Crookedstar when we return.” Leopardfur returned her attention to Yellowfang. “I'm still waiting.”

Yellowfang flicked her tail. “I'm not part of ShadowClan anymore,” she meowed. “I come seeking sanctuary. I need protection from Brokenstar.”

Brokenstar? Firepaw thought. Is that the leader of ShadowClan?

“Why would we offer it to you?” Weaselfoot spat. “If you're not with ShadowClan, you're a rogue!”

“And you stink like human garbage,” Beetleclaw hissed. “You'll bring sickness to our kits.”

Leopardfur silenced the toms with a glare. “What would you offer us in return?” she asked.

Yellowfang shrugged. “I'm a medicine cat, isn't that enough?” she asked. “Even if I had nothing, I'm allowed safe passage and care wherever I go. But I have my skills as a healer. Surely RiverClan could always use another, unless Mudfur took on an apprentice at last.”

Leopardfur shook her head. “We’ll bring you to camp,” she said. “But I promise no protection. That'll be Crookedstar’s choice, especially considering you aren't really a Clan cat anymore.”

Yellowfang raised her head and curled her lip. “I will always be a Clan cat,” she spat. “Brokenstar and his lies can't stop that.”

“Either way,” Leopardfur said. “It isn't my choice. Get up. We’ll take you back to camp. Can you walk?”

“I can walk fine,” Yellowfang growled. She stood, a bit wobbily. “Let’s go.”

Leopardfur turned and began to pad back across the bridge. Yellowfang went behind her, with Weaselfoot and Beetleclaw flanking her. Silverpaw and Firepaw took up the rear.

Silverpaw cast a smirk at Firepaw. “I bet Crookedstar will exile you,” he crowed. “Or maybe he’ll just have you cleaning the elder’s ticks for the rest of your life.”

Firepaw flattened his ears. Would Crookedstar actually exile me for feeding her? “Oh, shut up, Silverpaw.”

Silverpaw didn't reply, but the mocking grin didn't fade at all during the walk home. Neither did Firepaw’s nagging worry that Silverpaw could be right.

#warrior cats #wc #warrior cats au #riverclan fireheart au #chapter seven #warriors: fire and water #gonna try and put out a few updates today!

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rkherman · 2 years

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Some fungi of eastern Canada! Top: Bleeding fairy helmet, Fly agaric, Violet waxcap Middle: Dung loving bird's nest, White bird's nest Bottom: Turkey tail, Conifer blueing bracket, Lacquered polypore

#originalart #Digital Illustration #digitalart #digital art #Illustration #art #artists on tumblr #nature illustration #fungi #mushrooms #tessellation

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sciencenewsforstudents · 5 years

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A stirring scene in The Elephant Queen shows a herd of African elephants encountering an elephant’s remains on the barren savanna. Slowly, the elephants extend their trunks to gently touch the skull, lingering on its grooves as though they remember, and mourn, the elephant that was. It’s one of the film’s many intimate glimpses into the lives of elephants.

The family-friendly documentary debuts November 1 on the new streaming service Apple TV+. The Elephant Queen shies away from the larger forces — climate change, habitat loss and poaching — that threaten the subjects it beautifully portrays. But if you can look past that, and the sometimes-cheesy soundtrack and over-the-top narration, you’re left with an enjoyable film that generates compassion for these gentle giants.

The film, narrated by actor Chiwetel Ejiofor, centers on Athena, a 50-year-old matriarch, as she leads her herd across the Kenyan savanna. The local focus of the documentary is refreshing compared with the sweeping purview of series like Planet Earth. We meet the clan during good times, while the elephants play at a verdant water hole among the frogs, birds, insects and fish that also live there. The film benefits from this wider perspective. One memorable scene provides up-close detail of a totally bizarre behavior. On a slim branch overhanging the water hole, a dozen male foam-nest tree frogs clamor around a single female, whipping up a large, white foam mass into which the female lays eggs. Four days later, tadpoles drop from the foam into the water, only to get gobbled up by terrapins.

African elephants, zebras and a giraffe gather to drink at a watering hole on the Kenyan savanna in The Elephant Queen.

CREDIT: COURTESY OF APPLE

Such natural history nuggets, unfortunately, are sometimes offset by a cartoonish portrayal. Dung beetles take flight to the “Ride of the Valkyries,” and then a fight over a ball of dung gets exaggerated with fake punching and squeaking noises straight out of a comic book movie. Additionally, the documentary sometimes goes overboard with heavy-handed narration. For instance, the film opens with Ejiofor saying, “Oh wise and gentle soul, do you remember when we had it all? Do you dream of when we had to leave?”

The elephants are forced to leave as the water dries up due to an especially trying drought. The herd sets off on a 100-mile trek to a permanent water source, and Mimi, a newborn elephant, begins to struggle. As leader, Athena must balance the needs of the weakest against the whole herd, the film suggests. Scientifically, there’s support for her singular role in decision making, but viewers looking to learn about the intricacies of elephant society won’t find such detail here. Aside from some interesting tidbits — such as how killifish eggs get transported between ephemeral water holes by hitchhiking on mud-caked elephants — don’t expect to learn many new facts.

The film finds its footing as it progresses, quieting down the narration and soundtrack to just let the elephants be. When a young elephant dies and the herd mourns the loss, the filmmakers get out of the way and the moment speaks for itself. It’s a deeply moving reminder that other branches of the tree of life experience something like love and loss (SN: 2/26/19).

It’s a shame the film doesn’t leverage the affection and understanding it builds to shine a light on the ways in which humans endanger elephants and the creatures that depend on them. Aside from a brief nod to poaching just before the credits roll, the film ignores the existential threat human activity poses to these animals. The drought that spurs Athena and her family to move will likely become much more common with climate change.

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Watch a trailer for The Elephant Queen.

#science #scied #sciblr #animals #elephants #science documentary #science film #review

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sethtrout · 4 years

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Honeymoon

The honeymoon phase has been real. My fellow Peace Corps volunteers, all stripes of goofy, brilliant, and talented, have me belly laughing and feeling far from alone. Moments include wild freestyle musical sessions, exhausted silent walks, and expressions of hopes and fear. We are connected as we come to terms with the vivid changes the next 27 months will bring.

The exhausting pace of Pre Service Training – 10 hours a day, 6 days a week – has caught up to most of us. One minute, it’s Nepali language past tense conjugation, then a session on preventing diarrhea, then a talk with a US Ambassador, and then training on agriculture conditions in Nepal. It’s been dizzying. My brain feels like a soaked sponge. I’m struggling to let things out and in, so all I can do is play a little guitar, sleep, and digest, digest, digest.

Speaking of letting things out and in, digestion, etc… I’m on my fourth day of powerful diarrhea (prevention was futile). I feel pooped. So as I sit here with my stomach stirring, I want to share thoughts from a brain that’s at long last had a chance to digest three weeks of madness.

Every morning around 6:30 AM, I race through a foggy potato valley on wire-thin trails, climb a terrace loaded with mustard and wild radish, and center myself on four hours of language. Decades of beatboxing in the shower has set me up well to speak in tune with Nepal’s 33 consonants and 11 vowels. I say ‘farting’ instead of ‘reading’ (paDnus vs paadnus), and I think I’ve worn everyone out with 127 daily thank you’s, but I have confidence in this linguistic marathon even if sometimes I’m sprinting up a steep hill.

I’ve felt like a toddler here. I’ve had to re-learn everything from eating to using the bathroom to communicating basic thoughts and needs. When tempted with a spoon or toilet paper or English, I quickly realize how little I actually miss these “comforts.” Eating with my hand is freaking amazing. Using the bathroom here feels infinitely more sanitary and focused. I’ve realized that the complexity of my English vernacular sends me spiraling, often distracting me from my simple truths.

I rely on didi (big sister) for most things, especially language practice. She returns from long workdays and enthusiastically chooses to sit with me, patiently working me through Nepali language. I rely on bowju (sister-in-law) to teach me how to farm the Nepali way. The other day, we clawed through a steaming heap of gobar (cow-dung compost), carried it on our backs, and used it to prep our soil. An audience of small girls laughed when they saw me, an American man, proudly look over our little field only to realize I had cow dung on my face. Meanwhile – my sister in law – dressed like a queen in all red, emerged without a speck of dirt anywhere. It felt like a powerful moment for these girls to observe: a young mother, farmer, friend teaches weird American guy how to tend soil.

This shattering of independence somehow has me feeling right at home with my Nepali family. So much feels familiar. My brother has legendary 16-year-old-boy swagger. He gets yelled at about doing his homework and runs around town with his friends. My five year old brother dances and screams and tackles everything. My aamaa (mom) has deep smile wrinkles that remind me of my mom. I even have two friendly swallows living outside of my door, prepping their nest and making bird love in the mornings. There are things I can’t quite understand, like 98% of what is said to me, the burning of trash, who is family and who is just neighbor, and why we eat 200 carbs-worth of bhaat (white rice) every meal, but it’s been an absolute blast so far. I keep telling myself to relax, but everyone around me makes it easy.

It’s funny how most of my big fears about service have been silenced since arrival. I still ask myself if I will make a sustainable impact in anyone’s life, cultivate any meaningful relationships, or learn to love the tedium of my permanent site. But right now every challenge is bite-sized: make it to bathroom, learn how to discuss favorite fruits, stay hydrated, understand why we are here and what Nepal wants us to accomplish.

So much love is flowing down the mountains and across the world. It’s remarkable how much people have invested in me both now and for my entire life. I feel like a taker, but I promise to use this extraordinary privilege as a force for good, or at least to try my best. You can find my address in the “FAQ” section. Send me a letter, or even an email (wifi and data are pretty reliable during this training period). I’ll post photos soon. Until next time,

dhanyabad sathiharu.

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