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Was in a silly goofy leesaku mood today so i dug up my old fan kids and made the fam pose like the average 3 kid family
#Green eyed boy is Tekuno#Pink bowl cut girl is Kuranku#And the little baby has not set gender. Their name is Chikara.#my art#leesaku#leesaku kids#sakura haruno#rock lee#haruno sakura#leesaku children#leesaku family#seriously i dug through pinterest and stock photos for pose refs#and the amount of 3 kid families that pose like this is wild
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🐈 Give me the drama!
Drama, eh? How about the tragedy that is Dustpelt's mother?
Mild trigger warning for xenophobia.
I split up Robinwing's kittens amongst others. Frostfur and Chestnutwing are their only children, though she does give some help to Brindleface and Whitestorm both for a small amount of time. All Queens helped out with Brindlekit and Whitekit though. Brindlekit's mother abandoned Thunderclan after giving birth and never said who the father was, and no one claimed her. Longtail was born to Patchpelt still, but now his mother is an OC named Bluebellfur. This successfully shatters one of the problems that Robinwing, Fuzzypelt and Patchpelt caused.
As for Dustpelt, Cherrypaw and Ravenpaw? They are now the kittens that belong to Grayflower.
Grayflower is a skinny gray and cream/dilute tortoiseshell molly with purple eyes. She had her kits Honor Sired by Featherwhisker. They had NO relationship, she just wanted a Thunderclan Sire and Featherwhisker gave a thumbs up as long as she didn't involve him. He ain't a father.
She appears first during Bluestar's Prophecy as a young apprentice, trained by Fuzzypelt, and is one of the (many) cats egging on Thistlepaw. Yeah! Let's ruin those soggy fish munching freaks! Sure I'll show you a good spot where you can beat the snot out of an innocent kittypet, they're not truly cats, after all.
Yeah... if Featherwhisker knew how nasty she could be, I don't think he would have Honor Sired.
She was a TOUGH lady. Awful habits aside, nothing EVER fazed Grayflower. Ever. Cucumber trick would not have worked, kitty is unshakable.
As for her family, one would be SHOCKED to know that her parents are Tawnyspots and a brilliant cat known as Flypelt. Sadly, Flypelt passed in childbirth, leaving Tawnyspots alone with Graykit and Thrushkit. Where Thrushkit would become Thrushpelt, a proto-Fire Law supporter, his sister Grayflower would become a proto-Tiger Law supporter. A HARD Codeist.
However, oddly enough... She was a very loving mother. She held Cherrykit, Dustkit and Ravenkit close, amused when Ravenkit showed purple eyes like hers. She loved them so much, telling the three all the time how proud she was, making sure to hunt for them when she could to get their favorite prey - Robin. She even made a request to Bluestar to hold Ravenkit back for a while, her son too nervous to leave the nursery just yet.
She was the mother that would leave kind notes in your lunchbag, pack cool bandaids in her purse whenever you scraped your knee and tell you you're being so, so brave when she uses the antiseptic spray. Grayflower would make sure you eat your veggies and use your manners and help you if you needed it.
But she would then go online and rant about 'filthy' outsiders posing a threat, and cats with "outside blood" should be thrown out of the Clans, and no one could ever hope to be as holy or pure as a "Proper Thunderclan cat".
Her death comes swiftly in WCR!Into The Wild, she dies in the same battle Lionheart is killed in. Her throat is slashed by a Shadowclan cat, she's dead before she even hits the ground. Firepaw didn't like her, but when he sees how it effects her 3 kids, he understands that while she wasn't kind in any way towards him, she was still loved.
Cherryshine hides away in the warriors den, holding a small gift that Grayflower made for her, a wooden figure. Dustpaw goes from snarky and rude to just... Closed off completely. No one can get him to talk for several days. Ravenpaw clings to Graypaw and Firepaw harder for a while, having even more nightmares...
Her impact is felt harder in her death. Dustpelt had always wanted to be like her, and when he grows up he realizes just how horrific her ideals had been. Cherryshine had started to reject her ideals as an apprentice, but it never meant she didn't love her mother, never wanted to see her get better.
Ravenpaw though? Oooh, that's the juicy one.
Ravenpaw's Farewell is about grief, loss, and how people we lose can still have effect on us, even years down the line. Ravenpaw visits the graves of cats he knew regularly, the ones that haven't been paved over for an almost completely unused road. Grayflower's grave is included. He has... Some feelings about her.
When Tigerclaw had started to blame him for all the bad things happening in Thunderclan, would she have believed him? She would have died for her kids, but she would have died for Tigerstar's plans too. She believed Tigerclaw's every word... Had she loved Ravenpaw enough?
She would love who Barley is, he's funny, strong, and always up for a quick hunting session or a fun wrestle.
But she would hate what Barley is, so, so much. She hated all outsiders, especially clanless cats.
Would she hate him too?
#warrior cats#warrior cats rewrite#warriors#wcr#asks#warriors ocs#original character#grayflower#cherrypaw#ravenpaw#wc barley#dustpelt#tigerclaw#tw xenophobia
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Romeo and Juliet and the Prisoner of Azkaban: Return of the King pt. 4 (4th light novel, pg 108-117)
part 4/5 of 1-b’s school play is finished!! i can’t believe that there’s only 10 more pages of this to translate now we’re almost finished!!
this chapter is a wild ride LMAO thank you so much to @rachiebird for betaing this again!!
also thank u to the people who remind me to get off my butt and actually do this it rly makes all the difference lmao
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
“My pocket?”
As Romeo took the ring from his pocket, a dazzling light shined down across the entire stage. While the audience was still disoriented from the light, the gold-painted slice of chikuwa posing as a ring was lowered down. The plan was that, by the time the audience’s eyes had adjusted, it would look like the ring was floating.
Right then, Shiozaki appeared as the Spirit of the Ring and descended decinely upon the backs of Pony and Juurouta, a pair of hippogriffs. The howls of the hippogriffs only heightened Shiozaki’s aura of holiness, and the crowd let out cheers of delight in response. However, Monoma frowned as he noticed an unexpected smell, sniffing the air to find the source. It was the ring right in front of him.
“I am in no way the Spirit of the Chikuwa… I’m the Spirit of the Ring… No matter what anyone might say.”
It was from Shiozaki’s adlibbing and the meekness in which she did it that Monoma knew what the ring really was.
(Why chikuwa?!)
He held in the urge to shout out the retort with all his might. Monoma twitched a bit as he put on a surprised look at the Spirit of the Ring that had just appeared. “The Spirit of the Ring…?!”
“Listen closely, Romeo… The ring is with you… When you wish it, the ring will become your power… Furthermore, I am not the Spirit of the Chikuwa…”
Having reminded them, Shiozaki retreated back to the ceiling along with the roaring hippogriffs. Whispers of “why chikuwa?” came from all across the hall, but Monoma brushed aside their questions with his own booming voice. “Just now! What was that…! The Spirit of the Ring… You mean to say it’s the spirit of this ring, the ring that has been passed down through the royal family generation after generation…!”
And then he had a sudden realization, continuing, “There’s no time for this. I need to hurry and rescue Juliet, or else…!”
His expression was resolute as he stared far into the distance, the mood in the auditorium returning to normal. To Monoma, who had made it happen, all of the people in the wings sighed in relief, “He made it through.” Their roles having ended, Shiozaki and the rest also returned to the wings, relieved.
“I knew it, that guy really is amazing…”
Having said that, Tetsutetsu wolfed down a bite of the remaining chikuwa. It would be his turn on stage soon, so he was psyching himself up with a quick meal. The climax was quickly approaching, filling the wings with a sense of elation. After this, Count Paris would defeat Master Obi-Wan, declare himself Romeo’s real father, and then their confrontation would follow.
“Everyone, we’re going to cut the lights. This is the last set change, let’s do it.”
Everyone set their faces at the sound of Honenuki’s voice and went in standby positions for the set change. Next would be Count Paris’s castle, the scene of the final battle.
“Blackout in… six, five, four, three… cut the lights. We have fifty seconds.”
When Honenuki’s countdown reached ten seconds, Kaibara was heard saying, “I said we can talk about it later, break a leg!” before running off into the wings. Monoma looked after him like he wanted to say, “No, you’re misunderstanding…” but as the lights switched back on across the stage, he immediately switched over to Romeo.
“I finally made it… So, this is the castle that Rey said she saw…” Monoma muttered as he looked up at the eerie backdrop of a stone-cut castle. In the wings, the stagehands and the people whose roles had already finished were already acting as if the play had ended, having just managed to overcome the final major challenge.
In the midst of them, Honenuki never lost his cool, watching over the stage while giving the next directions.
“After this we still have the aerial combat. Standby positions.” Following Honenuki’s words, many people hurried over to various places in standby. “I’m counting on you, everyone…”
Tetsutetsu was waiting beside him, looking a bit nervous as he waited for his cue, so Honenuki called out to him in a quiet voice. “You’ll be fine. You’ve done this fine during practices. Just put your all into it. Ah, but you should still try to keep your voice down a little.”
“Yeah.”
Kodai, who was just behind them, nodded her head as if to say, “You’ll be fine.”
Tetsutetsu nodded back at the both of them. “Right, I can do this. Just leave it to me…”
At Honenuki’s signal, Tetsutetsu entered the stage. Recalling all of the instructions about acting that Monoma had given him during practice, Tetsutetsu waited for the right moment to draw the audience’s attention and spoke slowly and quietly, in a low, carrying voice.
“…my, I don’t remember inviting any guests. But I’ve been waiting for you, Prince Romeo.”
(…that’s right, just like that.)
Monoma gave a small smile at Tetsutetu’s performance before plunging himself into his own role.
“As suspected, that suspicious man was you, Count Paris! Where is Juliet?!”
“What I do with my possessions is my business…”
“It seems you have no intention of returning her… In that case, I’ll take her back myself!” Monoma let loose a roar as he slashed at Tetsutetsu. However, Tetsutetsu-as-Count Paris brushed him away in a single swing. Blown away, Monoma let out an awed, “This is no ordinary man…!”
“Wait, Romeo. Let me be the one to face that man.”
“You’re… Master Obi-Wan? Why?!”
Bondo-as-Master Obi-Wan appeared, lead by Nirengeki and Awase as Frodo and Sam.
Nirengeki said, “While we were searching for the king, Obi-Wan appeared before us. He said that he had something of the utmost importance to convey to you…!”
“Romeo, you often skipped out on your Force training, and you were by no means a good pupil. However, ever since you were born I’ve always thought of you as something of a grandson… That’s precisely why I, now, must be the one to defeat this man…”
“You’ve got quite the nostalgic face, Obi-Wan… But rather than a joyous reunion, I think it’s more befitting to call this a final farewell.” With his volume suppressed and a penetrating gaze, Tetsutetsu-as-Count Paris emitted a huge amount of presence just by standing, intimidating the audience.
In the wings, people were getting excited over Tetsutetsu and co’s performances.
“Tetsutetsu! That kid can do anything if he sets his mind to it!” Tsuburaba said while nodding his head up and down.
“What are you, his mom?” Kaibara quipped.
On stage, Tetsutetsu was completely villainous, casting out a menacing aura that made the two of them hold their breath and watch how the rest of the performance played out.
“This man is a ghost who was confined to Azkaban… A being who does not belong in this realm…”
Kuroiro fidgeted in the wings, as if Obi-Wan’s line had tickled his chunibyo heart.
Monoma-as-Romeo shouted in surprise, “In the infamous prison, Azkaban?! What horrible crimes could he have committed?”
“I died in Azkaban, and I was reborn. All in order to fulfill my duty.”
“Don’t say another word, evil being… Ha!”
Raising his hands, Obi-Wan turned to face Count Paris. “Oof,” Tetsutetsu said as he was attacked by the Force, getting blown back and floating in the air just like that.
“It seems your power has not faded over the years, Obi-Wan.”
“Master Obi-Wan!”
“All of you, stand back! I’ll…”
As he said that, Obi-Wan drifted up to the sky. From here on, it would be aerial combat using the Force. Using Pony’s “Horn Canon”, Tokage’s “Lizard’s Tail”, and Rin’s “Scales”, the two of them were able to be manipulated freely through the air.
“Ha!”
“Ha!”
While showing off each Force attack, they flew around over the heads of the audience. Kaibara matched their blows, set off firecrackers that he’d prepared on the walls. Startled by the overflowing presence, the audience was unable to turn their eyes from the two of them. However, as if to control the enjoyment of the audience, Count Paris stared at Obi-Wan coldly and declared, “Obi-Wan, You haven’t changed at all… But I have… Since the last time we met, I’ve obtained tremendous power…!”
Count Paris landed the finishing blow on Obi-Wan. As Obi-Wan was blown all the way back to the stage, Romeo and the others rushed to him.
“Master Obi-Wan!”
“This can’t be… The most powerful man in all of Gondor has…!”
“Romeo… This is the one man we must never allow near our country… Okay…? You’re the one who will lead Gondor in the future…”
As Obi-Wan let out his death rattle, Romeo began to break into tears. “No… Obi-Wan, you can’t… I still have so much to learn from you…”
Count Paris approached him. “Prince Romeo… No, Romeo…”
“My prince!”
Romeo looked back at the sound of Frodo and Sam’s voices, then startled.
“Juliet!!”
Kodai-as-Juliet was standing on the castle terrace. Behind her, as if using the castle as a perch, a growling dragon leered at Romeo’s group.
Drying his tears, Romeo stood at once, facing his arch nemesis, Count Paris.
“My name is Romeo! Ghost of Azkaban, Count Paris! I’m tacking Juliet back!!”
But Count Paris turned, making a sorrowful face as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Romeo… You must have heard from Obi-Wan about your father. Him being the Kingdom of Gondor’s king… That was a lie.” Count Paris suddenly took off the hood he’d been wearing up until now and said decisively: “Romeo, I am your father.”
“YOU’RE LYING!!!”
Shock didn’t even begin to describe what Romeo was feeling, his emotions accentuated by theatrical acoustics and even further by the lights bathing him.
Having learned the shocking truth, all the audience could do was look on in mute awe.
“Now, how about you call me dad!”
“Never!!! What a foul lie! I can’t believe it, that you could be my father…! Besides, my father is alive! He’s not in the country now, but I will definitely find him!”
“That meddling Obi-Wan, filling you with lies. Listen, your father is actually—”
“Do you think I’d keep listening to your nonsense?! I’m saving Juliet, now!” Saying that, Romeo swung at Count Paris. However...
“…huh? Is something wrong with Tetsutetsu?” asked Kaibara from the wings, noticing Tetsutetsu’s state. The plan was that he was supposed to beautifully avoid Monoma’s attack, but instead he was hunched over, holding his stomach. Monoma also seemed surprised at the sudden development, appearing unsure of how to continue.
“He looks kinda pale… Is he not feeling well or something?” said Honenuki, who had noticed the same thing and was now looking worriedly at Tetsutetsu on the stage.
“Ah, could it be this?!”
Setsuna, flustered, was holding the plastic bag the chikuwa had come in. The expiration date had passed a fair while ago. Everyone’s heads swung back to Tetsutetsu with concern, watching Tetsutetsu writhing from the pain of his sudden stomachache.
This is what Monoma had been trying to say earlier, that the chikuwa smelled as if it’d gone bad.
“Jeez! He never pays mush attention to these things!”
Komori was so worried that she’d worked herself into an angry huff, which Kuroiro tried to calm with a, “Th-there, there.”
Thinking carefully, Honenuki played the role given to him and said calmly, “In any case, we need to get Tetsutetsu off the stage. At this rate, he won’t be able to do anything.”
After seeing Tetsutetsu’s state, there were no objections. That said, there was one problem.
“But how?”
“Not to mention, how are we going to even do this scene without Tetsutetsu? We can’t just rely on Monoma alone... We could tell Tetsutetsu to leave the stage for health reasons, but if we do—”
It would mean they had to completely change the script and end in adlib. But was that even possible?
“Rather than ending on a bad note, maybe it’d be better to quit while we’re—”
Honenuki shook his head at Rin, who had offered the suggestion merely as one possible option.
“…The show must go on. Once the curtain’s drawn, we can’t close it again until we’ve finished the play. It’s out of respect to the people who came to see us, and also our pride as the people putting on the play.”
“…!”
Looking at everyone’s surprised faces, Honenuki continued, “…is what was written in the Stage Director’s book.”
“The book?!” Tsuburaba shot out, but Honenuki continued to speak gently, in an attempt to calm everyone down.
“But, you know. We’ve all worked so hard up until now, just for this day. I don’t really want to end it half-way, either.”
From the day they decided on the program, all of their weekends, their time after school, and even their breaks had all been dedicated to bringing their strength together and making a great play. They only had one chance to perform: it was all for this play.
Even before Honenuki said anything, everyone was already overflowing with passion.
Rin spoke for everyone. “Let’s do it. To the end.”
Class B had made up their minds. Now they just needed to figure out how.
Honenuki spent a short time organizing his thoughts before saying, “First, in order to get Tetsutetsu back, we need to avert the audience’s attention from the stage.”
#bnha light novel#class 1-b#bnha#juzo honenuki#monoma neito#tetsutetsu tetsutetsu#ibara shiozaki#sen kaibara#kojiro bondo#ok there were more but i'm done tagging characters#UM wow is all i can say#they rly went there#i'm so proud of all of these kids tho they're trying their best#honenuki for president#every single day i marvel at the fact that this is canon
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[ Sleeping Patterns ]
Tagged by : @heedingcalls Tagging: @iim-a-pilot @feathersandforests @gamblealife @ducktales-wco-oo @anthropolite @womenofice @warraigoe ( That...that’s enough people to bug )
Gabby.
Name: Gabby Mcstabberson Ethnicity: ( Eagle/peahen half-breed ) Probably East Indian & White; but what specific white culture is a ? to her given her orphan status. McStabberson isn’t a real surname, but code. Country: She was raised/dumped off in central Japan, but has been all over. She has no one country that she belongs to. She’s lived in Europe, Asia Major, and US all at different times. Residence: Calisota, Duckburg and St.Canard. ( currently ) Average hours of sleep: 6-8, but if on watch or a mission, she sleeps in 2-3 hour shifts. Type of bed: Anywhere between a luxury hotel bed queen-king, to crashing in the wild/caves with just a bedroll. She’s slept in temple/church attics when on the road. She’s even slept in trees if it meant safe hiding. But if she’s in one of her safe houses, it’s a wide square free-form cushy double mattress no frame, ( futon style ) just loose cotton sheets & memory foam. Amount of blankets: If she’s indoors, she usually just needs a couple high count cotton/bamboo sheets, and cocoons herself with those plus a light throw. If it’s cold, she will bury herself under the usual sheets plus a luxe down blanket. If outdoors, it’s just an an insulated camping roll that can withstand the elements. Amount of pillows: Indoors? she will usually build a curved pile of 2-3, and plant down in the middle, or use the excess blanket as added padding. Outdoors, she usually has no pillow, but she was accustomed to sleeping with none when she was raised among her syndicate/temple. So, she CAN do without any headrest if on the road, but once she has cover or access to indoors, she’s using whatever padding she can. Type of clothing: If outdoors or on the job? Her clothes remain on, obviously. She MAY take off her boots if the terrain isn’t too dangerous. Indoors, she really would rather sleep nude/panties. Sometimes it’s just a crop-tank and panties. She’ll walk around in a short robe or shorts if she’s out of bed, though. Sometimes a slip. But honestly she’s all about as little on her as possible when indoors/safe. Do they sleep with company?: Verse dependent. Otherwise, she does not sleep with anybody out of peace of mind and safety. If she’s indulging in sexual company, after they’re done, she’s out the door, sometimes sneaking out while her partner’s asleep. Yeaaaaah. Do they sleep with plushies?: Nope. Not even as a kid. :/ However, the monkey she had then would sleep near her. Though in Lola’s verse, ( @hoopsheartthrob ) if she crashes on the sofa from exhaustion, she has woken up with a blanket over her and one of Lola’s plushies wrapped in her arms somehow. Do they sleep better with company?: It doesn’t make a difference to her at all. Though in her ship verses, she is alarmed at how much harder it is for her to fall asleep and stay asleep without her lover there. If she’s in their bed together, she will nuzzle up and cocoon on THEM more than her usual blanket fort. Does it matter where they sleep?: Noooooo. XD If she can sit up in the crotch of a tree or lay down on a cave floor I think she’s okay. Though she sleeps lighter outside because of her light sleeping/vigilance. She obviously MUCH prefers nice bed and fine linens; after leaving that syndicate/temple lifestyle, she never looked back to the days of sleeping like a dog in a barn ever again. If on a mission, she does what she has to do to sleep wherever. She can usually count down and fall right to sleep instantly. Consider it her martial-monk training. Frequent dreams, nightmares?: She has either NO recalled dreams at all, or vividly surreal ones that may disturb or confuse her, but not scare her. What do they do if they cannot fall asleep?: She’ll try mediating first, but if her mind’s racing too much and it’s impossible to sleep, depending where she is, she’ll give into the alertness and either go out in the night to walk, look at the stars, or cityscape. Sometimes she looks up an old hook-up and attempts to wear herself out that way. But most of the time, the meditation works to calm her down. Deep slumber or naps?: She’s a light sleeper, so deep sleep is relative. If she can’t get 6-8 uninterrupted hours of slumber, after a long night mission with little to no sleep, she’ll make up for it after she’s “off the clock” by taking a few isolated naps at her safe house. She won’t ever do without rest!!! When do they wake up?: Depends entirely on her job du jour. But normally, she’s an early riser, not just out of habit, but she HAS to start her day with meditation and some kind of stretching/low impact work out. Then her breakfast, etc. In ship verses she’ll stay in bed a bit longer if it means she’s comfortably curled around them. When do they sleep?: She’ll stay up pretty late to the wee hours of the morning if she’s on a mission or fun night out, but normally she tries to be in bed by 11-midnight. Seeing is how she’s up like clockwork around 6:30-8am. What could wake them up?: She’s a light sleeper, so a lot, pfft. On the road, it just has to be subtle shuffling or murmur outside her campsite or hotel door, and when she’s outdoors, she does NOT sleep deep. A frog hopping into a puddle could wake her. If she’s in one of her safe houses or ship-verses, any noise from a drawer opening/closing or a deep mattress bob will do it, and when she wakes, she’s either ready to fight off whatever’s there, or annoyingly ask with bleary eyes what they’re doing ( if a friend/lover ). But then, she’ll slip back to sleep instantly with an exasperated sigh. So partners gotta leave the bedroom if they can’t sleep and do things like pace around the room or watch TV. JUST SAYIN���. She’s been conditioned since a child to always be ready to fight someone off if they sneak in on you while you sleep.
Gladstone.
Name: Gladstone Gander Ethnicity: ( Sebastopol goose-pecking duck half breed ) Culturally wise, whatever his fam is? Scottish-English-French? Country: USA Residence: Duckburg, Calisota--currently. Though canonly he’s lived in the countryside outside of Duckburg with his grandma and cousins after orphaned as a small child. He’s also lived in other glamorous or exciting cities at random stints given his gambling, stage career, and due to wherever Lady Luck has sent him. He always ends up back at Duckburg, though! Average hours of sleep: 8-10, sometimes 12 if he’s been out way too late and partied way too hard. Some of those hangovers are a bitch. He also surrenders to jet lag with no objection after long trips and just HIBERNATES. The man does love to lounge and sleep in finery. Type of bed: King, and of course, top of the line. He did try out waterbeds and other bizarre bed trends here and there just to see how comfortable ( or sexy ) it was. He is the first to go for gimmick style sleeping if it means a new way to experience comfort. Currently, he has a purple mattress-sleep number type deal he’s very proud of. 🙄 And his frame, of course, is imported and a high-end style. Amount of blankets: He does go full luxe, so the finest sheets plus at least 2-3 blankets; one thinner cashmere, one medium thick plain white down quilt, and finally, one thick, “royal” style comforter that usually is just rolled back off the foot of the bed if he’s got company. But usually it’s just the sheets and the down quilt covering him. Amount of pillows: 2 king sized ortho pillows side by side, so he can roll to whatever side and have the same level of comfort. He does have some random pillows at his sides also, as he shifts around in his sleep and ends up in different positions if he’s sleeping alone. Type of clothing: He sleeps totally nude, let’s be real here. He may saunter around his place in various luxe robes, or if he’s got family or friends over, he’ll wear pajamas around them out of courtesy, but once he’s in his bedroom and the door’s shut? 100% naked as a....jay...bird. Do they sleep with company?: Yesss...whether we’re in a ship verse or not, he’s pretty canonly...uh...popular. He gets around. He doesn’t think it’s gentlemanly to send a lady home right after they’ve done the deed, and his bed is huge and amazingly luxurious, so he’ll offer her “breakfast and coffee” as the quintessential code. Do they sleep with plushies?: Ha, no. “Not sexy, folks.” As a kid he had a couple, obviously. He’s woken up with a random plushie or action figure on his chest or head posed in hilarious ways whenever he falls asleep babysitting the kiddos, but other than that, nope. Do they sleep better with company?: Yes, actually. He does sleep alone more than you’d think, which when he does, he’s all over the place in his own bed. After all, he IS lonely under that bravado and vanity, so half his conquests may be some underlaying need to wake up with someone at his side. He doesn’t toss and turn at all if he’s got company---be it romantic or familial. Does it matter where they sleep?: YES. Glad is a creature who loves his comforts. If it’s not just so, he’s a cranky bastard the next day. He’s extremely picky about where and how he sleeps if he’s on vacation with family and friends, infamously so. His bed at home is already tailor made to his specifics, and he knows which hotels fit his standards. Frequent dreams, nightmares?: He gets very vivid, happy, beautiful dreams. Of course he does. He also gets a lot of er...sexy dreams, too. But I digress. When he DOES have nightmares they are incredibly disturbing and horrific, showcasing family hells they’ve all endured or curses on the horizon, some are supernaturally caused nightmares. When he gets the rare nightmare, he ain’t falling back to sleep any time soon. What do they do if they cannot fall asleep?: He’ll watch some late night TV like shopping networks and infomercials while sipping some liquor. Sometimes he’ll read through some biography books he has or magazines...Sometimes he’ll call an old girlfriend up and bug her, or try and get a booty call out of it. Or he’ll call a family member or friend that may be up or not, and fein false shame and be all: “Oooooh did I wake you?” and then go on to chat until he hears them fall asleep on the other line. Then, usually he can fall asleep again. Deep slumber or naps?: Depends; he is a cat napper if it’s midday, he’s on a boat, an outdoor chaise, or hammock---and the sun’s warming his face and he has a cocktail or lemonade in hand. Because, hey, he can’t help it with THAT kind of set up. But, since he already gets an obscene amount of nightly sleep, cat naps are totally accidental and rare. When do they wake up?: Around 9 or 10am if it’s a normal schedule, but noon-2pm if he’s been out all night partying or on the gambling circuit. When do they sleep?: Whenever he feels like crashing. He doesn’t have a same-set time every night. Sometimes he turns in early around 10, sometimes he glances at the clock and it says 4am, and he’s just “WHOOPS. Bedtime.” What could wake them up?: He sleeps like a log once he IS out, so a lot of shoving or shaking ( or “adult contact” if you’re one of his ship verses ). But, ultimately, he has an alarm like anyone else.
Negaduck.
Name: REDACTED. ( J/K: Drake Mallard, of course. Nega-versed but same name ) Ethnicity: ( Pecking duck ) “Euro-mutt.” Country: USA ( Negaverse version ) Residence: St.Canard, Calisota ( Negaverse ) as well as St.Canard “Prime.” Average hours of sleep: 6-7. For an ornery bastard when he lays down, he conks out. Type of bed: Sometimes he falls asleep sitting up in his recliner watching TV, or if he’s too beat up and injured to lay down on a bed, and needs to keep his feet up. ( Like if his ribs are bruised too badly to lay flat. ) But when he sleeps in bed, depending on if he’s in one of his hideouts, hotels, or the Negaverse, it’s either a queen or king with loose, messy sheets and a couple mis-matched blankets and a 2 pillows that are not the same size or quality. If he’s in one of his fancy hotel spreads, obviously it’s super luxe accommodations as he smokes a cigar while wearing a haute bathrobe. Though, in his abandoned subway hideout, it’s just a twin-sized mattress on a prison-style cot with a fitted sheet and one blanket with a mushed-up small pillow. Honestly, he can fall asleep on concrete. Amount of blankets: He can’t stand to be covered with more than a rumpled sheet unless it’s freezing, then he’ll also use one oversized thick comforter/quilt. Ship-verse wise, whatever her bed is like, he’s adjusted to THAT, and little else. But he will end up kicking the blankets off of himself some time during the night, regardless how many she uses. Amount of pillows: Honestly, it starts off with one, but he always ends up with his head flat on the mattress...In ship verses? Her chest. 🙄 Type of clothing: Boxers only, but if he’s with a lover, that’s nixed for nekkid sleepin’. Back in the Negaverse, he’ll fall asleep with his boxers and his robe on. Sometimes Gos crawls into bed if she had a nightmare, so he’s always dressed just in case. Do they sleep with company?: Sometimes....Ship verses, yes. Everywhere else, IF he’s worn out after a romp, he’ll stick around. But usually he vamooses after he’s sealed the deal, so she doesn’t get any bright ideas about them. If she’s sleeping over one of his hotel stays? Sometimes he’ll let her stay over...but he makes it pretty clear she better not stay past morning coffee. Cab faire is SOMETIMES provided. Otherwise? HE SLEEPS ALONE, DAMNIT!! Do they sleep with plushies?: Only if Gos left hers behind and got out of bed first. XD Do they sleep better with company?: It really doesn’t matter to him. Once he’s out, he sleeps like a rock. In ship verses he’s gotten used to his dame so he’ll begrudgingly admit to himself he’s gotta crash with her. That is, unless they’re fighting, then he’s staying the hell away from her. And probably sleep on the sofa. Does it matter where they sleep?: Nope! After being in prison where you sleep on terrible cots and have to watch your ass ( literally ) constantly, or being knocked out after a caper and waking up in filthy, uncomfortable places like warehouse floors or alleyways, he can pretty much fall asleep anywhere. Though, it IS nice to have his comfy chair or lady friend’s bed. Frequent dreams, nightmares?: Half the time he has NO dreams/nightmares, just black, blank sleep. The other chunk of time ( about a quarter of the time ) he has nightmares, which he takes to be “his normal” dreams. They involve a lot of his life in symbolism, disturbing metaphors, and warnings, and replays of past traumas that still haunt him. He denies openly that he has PTSD, even as it effects his dreamscape. When he has truly normal or pleasant dreams, he wakes up suspicious. What do they do if they cannot fall asleep?: He takes a hot shower or bath, smokes a cigar while in the tub, maybe has a tumbler of whisky too. He’ll probably jack-off later if he’s still awake. Sometimes he’ll take a sleep aid or medication, because he will do whatever it takes to knock himself out without actually knocking himself out... Deep slumber or naps?: Deep, deep, deeeeeeep sleeps. Most of his naps tend to be “involuntary,” post fight. When he does nap it’s only because he’s had a LONG, hard job and he just CRASHES. If he crashes at home in the Negaverse on the sofa, Gos usually covers him with one of her princess blankets and puts a few of her plushies around him. When do they wake up?: Depending on the scene! On a job he pulls sleep shifts and wakes up as needed to his schedule. Normally, he’s up by 8 am, unless he’s been injured and accidentally finds himself in bed all day. Or, if a job made him crash in at sunrise, he’ll be up around noon. When do they sleep?: Whenever needed according to his work schedule. Sometimes he has to be asleep by as early as 7pm if he has to pull a big job by midnight, sometimes he IS in bed by midnight. If he’s on the run or a job is taking forever, he’s collapsing in bed around 4-5 am. He has the most chaotic sleep schedule EVER. What could wake them up?: Remember, he sleeps the sleep of the dead, so he needs ceremony. Soooo if you’re his squeeze du jour or a ship verse? Sex. Or, just violently shaking him awake, jumping ON him roughly, slapping him awake, having his alarm at high volume, or if you’re Gos, prying his eye open with her fingers and saying “DAD!...oh! Are you up?” while in his face...Also, brewing strong, good coffee down the hall will magically do it. Otherwise he has an internal clock that just wakes him up without an alarm.
#HEADCANON || GABBY#HEADCANON || GLADSTONE#HEADCANON || NEGADUCK#DIRTY DEEDS#{ Only tagging it DD because these 3 have a few methods to fall asleep/get up that aren't sfw XDD }#{ SO long tis why it's under a cut YEESH. }
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The Third Caballero- Chapter 3
Summary: Donald gets his family to safety, but, to buy them the time they need to escape, he must face Magica de Spell on his own. Without the other two caballeros by his side, will he be able to hold off the shadow sorceress or will she claim the treasure hidden in his locket?
Notes: Time for more magic-action-adventure scenes, this time featuring magic-amulet powered Donald vs. Magica! Enjoy!
-First Chapter-
<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->
Down at the harbor, a square hole appeared in the sky above the docks. Through the portal fell Donald, Della, Scrooge, and the three baby ducklings. Moving quickly, Donald hugged his family tight against his chest and started to tip forward, ensuring that he would roll when he landed- stopping only once his back collided with some crates.
“Ow, my head..” He grumbled as he tried to shake the dizziness away. After he’d regained his bearings, Donald released his hold and looked at his family members. “You guys okay?”
Della nodded, looking a bit dizzy from the landing too but recovering fairly quickly (being a pilot came in handy). “Shaken, but not stirred..” She joked lightly before looking down to make sure her sons were okay. Della let out a sigh of relief when the boys looked fine, aside from their constant crying. “We’re all okay.”
Scrooge was the first to get to his feet, popping a few joints in his back along the way. “Speak for yourselves- that blasted witch nearly blasted me t’ bits!”
Della gave him a deadpan look and gestured to her severed leg with one hand. “Oh, that’s tragic. Hey, Donald, remind me to cry about it later.”
Donald helped her stand up, looping an arm around her waist to help steady her. “I’ll remind you once we’re all outta here.”
“Good, I’m holdin’ you to tha-” Della suddenly stopped with a choked gasp, cringing in pain and gripping Donald’s shoulder tightly to avoid squeezing the kids too hard. “Aaaah!”
“Della?!” Donald braced her carefully, looking her over for any signs of injury from the landing. “What’s wrong?!”
“My..My leg..!” She forced the words out through gritted teeth.
“Your leg?” Donald asked, looking down at the missing appendage. “But, José took care of-” He stopped, a chill going through him when he saw the yellow fabric slowly turning dark red. Then he caught sight of his own hands and noticed the translucent veil of magic that had previously protected him from the flames was now fading away. “José..” His voice came out as a small, frightened whisper. He looked up at the portal they’d come through and he saw it begin to fade as well. “José!!” He quickly passed Della off to their uncle and reached into his pocket, pulling out the keys to his houseboat. “Take Della and the boys and get out of here!” Donald called over his shoulder after giving Scrooge the keys, already running back towards the burning mansion.
“And just what in blazes do y’ think YOU can do?!” Scrooge questioned while adjusting his grip on Della. “That’s Magica de Spell! She won’t stop ‘til she-!”
“Until she gets what she wants. I know that!” Donald finished Scrooge’s statement, turning around briefly to pat the front of his shirt, feeling the locket underneath. “But she won’t take it from me, or you, or anyone! I’ll buy some time for you guys to get away!” He gave them a small smile, trying to sound more confident in his next words than he truly was. “I’ll see you in Duckburg.”
And, with that, he continued his run back towards the mansion.
“Donald!” Della tried to reach out to him with one of her hands. “Wait!” She looked up at Scrooge pleadingly. “We have to go with him! He can’t fight her by himself!”
“……” Scrooge frowned, looking between his niece and nephew. He looked at his niece’s pained but pleading face, so desperate to help her brother despite the risk it posed to her own life. He looked back up to see his nephew, running fearlessly towards the still burning building in an attempt to protect his loved ones. Then, he looked back down past his niece’s face to the wailing and sniffling infants in her arms. He closed his eyes and, with a heavy sigh, hoisted Della up into his arms firmly and turned in the opposite direction, walking towards the boat. “We’ll get you lot t’ safety first. Donald‘ll be fine ‘til we circle back around.”
“What?!” Della looked up at him, her face stuck somewhere between shock and frustration. “No! He needs us NOW! We can’t leave him! He’s my brother!!”
“And those are your kids!” He snapped back at her while stepping onto the boat and setting her down on one of the deck chairs. He pointed at the fluffy ducklings in her arms sternly. “Your brother is risking ‘is life t’ keep you and THEM safe. He knows that they need y’ and he’s willin’ t’ do whatever it takes for the lot of y’. What good are y’ gonna be to the boy like this, huh?!”
Della flinched at his harsh words, but looked down at the boys still clinging to her desperately. “……” She wrapped her arms around them tighter with a sniffle. “But..But he’s..”
“I know, lass..” Scrooge’s voice was gentler that time, softened with understanding. He reached down and set a firm hand on her shoulder. “But ‘e’ll be fine. Your brother’s a sharp one- one of the sharpest sharpies I’ve ever seen. We’ll see the boy again soon.”
“……” Della nodded hesitantly and buried her face against the top of her boys’ heads, crying quietly over her own helplessness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Donald raced back towards the mansion, hoping both that José was alright and that he would be able to intercept Magica before she got near the docks. While he didn’t get to confirm his first worry, he did at least get to see to the second one.
He saw Magica flying out of a hole in the mansion wall, sitting on her staff like it was a broom again. She had a satisfied smirk on her face that made Donald’s blood boil.
“Hey!” He yelled to get the sorceress’s attention. When that didn’t work, he picked up the nearest heavy item (which turned out to be a buoy from a pile of busted ones that had apparently been sitting around waiting for repairs), and chucked it at her with ease. For good measure he even charged a small amount of blue energy from his hand into the weighted object.
She certainly noticed him that time, as the buoy hit her staff and sent her off-balance, nearly crashing into the ground. “Aah!” She steadied herself just before hitting the beach and glared at him, finally aware of his presence. “Oh..you..” She scowled at him, looking both mildly annoyed and disinterested at the same time. She righted herself on the staff, crossing one leg over the other in a show of boredom. “Did you need something? I’m a very busy woman, you know. I haven’t got all night.”
Donald glared hard at her, hands clenching at his sides. “What did you do to José?!” He demanded, that long-buried feeling of wild rage bubbling up in him and waiting to boil over depending on her answer.
At his question, her previous scowl slipped back into its earlier smirk. “Ah, yes, the little parrot.” She brought a hand up and pretended to look over her nails. “He was being a bit of a nuisance, planning to keep me there until you returned. He was unexpectedly powerful, though- a completely unknown variable in my perfectly calculated plans.” Her eyes slipped back to look at him with that malicious glee as she spoke, her tone dripping with sadistic glee. “So I took him out of the equation altogether.”
Donald saw red.
Everything from that night finally pushed him to a breaking point he hadn’t reached since his therapy in Shangri-La: The attack on his family. The separation from Panchito. Della’s leg. José’s sacrifice. Magica’s constant sneers and smirks and cruel laughter.
“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” He let out a loud shout and charged blindly at the arrogant shadow-mancer.
Just like before, she skillfully dodged out of the way, rising higher into the air to get out of his reach. Unlike last time, however, he had no distractions and just continued attacking.
Donald focused blue energy into his legs when he landed, allowing him to jump higher than before and nearly reach her. Startled, Magica barely avoided him when he made a grab for her. He didn’t stop there, though- no, he kept on coming after her. Every time he missed, he quickly redirected the path of his jumps and either sprung back off the ground or grabbed onto something to swing himself up higher. If he was near something that could be broken off or thrown at her, he would hit or chuck it at the agile sorceress with all his might. He was unrelenting in his assault, driven purely by rage and instinct.
Soon, he had Magica subconsciously retreating to avoid his attacks. Her constant dodging was driving them further and further away from the docks and down towards the beach, giving her more room to avoid Donald’s fists and less objects for him to throw at her. This did not temper the angry duck’s fury nor lessen his assault, however.
With each bounding leap and jump, Donald grew closer to grabbing her. Getting annoyed, Magica finally managed to spot an opening and moved just right so that the moonlight would cast her shadow down onto the beach below. With a wave of her hand, her shadow grabbed onto Donald in one large fist on his next jump up, catching him mid-air. The surprised duck let out a startled squawk and wiggled in the grip, trying to break free.
Well, that certainly helped to bring his rage back under control- he was too busy focusing on a way out now.
“There we go.” Magica said while floating back down to the beach with a smirk. “Finally put an end to our little game of tag.” She clenched her hand into a tight fist and the shadow squeezed Donald tighter, making him grimace slightly. “Now, while I would absolutely LOVE to stay and squeeze the life out of you, I really must be going.” She started to float off in the direction of the docks. “Your dear old uncle and I have a financial matter to discuss.”
Donald’s mind raced with thoughts of how to stall her. He had to keep her away from Della and the kids!
A brief memory from years ago flashed through his mind, giving him an idea. It would be risky, he’d never tried it without Panchito and José’s help, but he didn’t have that many options at the moment.
Well, it was going to be all or nothing.
“You’re wasting your time.” Donald called to Magica’s retreating figure before she got too far away to hear him. “Scrooge doesn’t have it!”
Magica stopped briefly to look at him over her shoulder, giving him a condescending look and one arched eyebrow. “You REALLY expect me to believe that? Ha! Please! That selfish old miser wouldn’t dare leave it behind in Duckburg, and he would hardly trust someone else to look after something so precious to him.”
Donald began to subtly focus the energy coursing through his body, trying to do so in a way that Magica wouldn’t notice right away. “You’re right about one thing-” He began, noticing the subtle look of interest the dark witch was beginning to show. “Uncle Scrooge didn’t leave his dime in Duckburg. But he DID leave it with someone he trusts.”
Magica turned around to face him fully and flew closer in an instant, hovering so that she was face to face with him. “Impossible! Who would he be foolish enough to trust with such a thing?!”
There it was- his chance!
Taking a deep breath, Donald focused all of the power he had to cover every inch of his body. “ME!!” He shouted as the blue energy surged forth in a powerful shockwave.
The force of the magical energy not only pried the shadow-hand restraining him open, but it also sent Magica flying backwards. “?!!!!”
Donald reached under his shirt and pulled the locket his uncle gifted him out for the first time since he’d received the precious pendant. Looking Magica dead in the eyes, he reached to the side and popped it open, revealing the dime hidden within. “If you want Uncle Scrooge’s number one dime, then come an’ get it!!” He snapped the locket closed and took off running, going as fast as his feet could carry him.
Recovering from what just happened, Magica’s eyes widened with realization. “YOU!!!” She let out an enraged scream and grabbed her staff, flying after the other duck like a rocket. “GIVE ME THAT DIME, YOU IMPUDENT LITTLE WHELP!!!!!!!!”
Well, step one of his planned seemed like a flawless success: Magica was chasing after him and getting further and further away from his family.
Step two would prove a bit more challenging…
The furious sorceress attacked him with everything she had- shadow minions, magical blasts, giant shadow hands- but Donald was focused now, able to remember all of his training over the years and stay one or two steps ahead of her. He dodged all of her attacks while keeping his eyes open along the beach for-
Aha! Perfect!
Veering off from his previous path, Donald spotted a less-used dock with a few boats resting there for the evening. He used the momentum from a dodge-jump to land by the wooden planks. He then charged the familiar blue glow into his hands and unmoored one of the boats before using his added strength to shove it out into the water.
He repeated this process with a few more boats, shoving them with different levels of strength until he had them all heading further and further out to sea at different speeds. Finally, when there was only one boat left, he jumped on and shoved himself away from the dock as hard as he could, sending himself out to follow the other boats.
Magica finally caught up to her target and shot a large ball of dark magic at the boat he was on. “You won’t get away from me that easily!!” The magic hit its mark and the boat began to break apart, but, to the witch’s surprise, Donald leapt from the boat he was currently on to another one nearby. Then he jumped onto another once he was close enough. Looking towards the horizon, she saw what the deceptively clever duck had done: He’d made a trail of ships spaced close enough together that he could jump between them. “Hmph..perhaps you’re not QUITE the fool I took you for..” She mumbled begrudgingly before charging two spheres of dark magic in her hands. “But your little trick won’t save you for long!” She fired off her attacks, hitting one boat after another as Donald moved from vessel to vessel in a dangerous game of hopscotch. It didn’t take long for Magica to corner him on the final ship.
With nowhere left to run, he stood on the deck defiantly with an intensely glowing blue aura around him, likely prepared for some kind of heroic last-stand, Magica thought. He simply glared at her as if the ferocity and heat of his stare could melt her skin from her bones. “……”
Floating down to the boat, Magica smirked at her cornered prey, feeling every bit like the cat that caught the proverbial canary. “You certainly have been an entertaining adversary- first a game of tag, then keep away, and finally a round of hopscotch. Why, I feel like a kid again!” She gave a short, clipped laugh, one just loud enough to show her sarcasm and annoyance at the situation, before giving the waiting duck a deadly glare. “But I’m afraid play-time has come to an end. Now..” She held out her hand expectantly, making sure to continue floating a few feet away and remaining above the water just in case he tried anything. “Give. Me. The. DIME.” She said firmly, shadows writhing around her with every word to show how furious but deadly serious she was in her demand. The darkness only faded back to normal levels when the moonlight behind Magica was obstructed by a series of clouds.
Donald reached up to the locket around his neck and popped it open again, never taking his eyes off of Magica. “You REALLY like this stupid old dime, huh?” He saw the eager and malicious grin spreading over her face, clearly feeling like she’d won. “Then how about you get to know it better!” He used one hand to hold the locket and the other to point directly at Magica, the blue energy that had previously surrounded him now shooting out to grab her like a rope.
“What?!” Magica struggled to get away, but found herself being drawn closer to the boat. “What are you doing?!! Stop this at once!!” She tried summoning her shadows, her magic, ANYTHING to get away, but the blue aura wiped away anything she tried to throw at her attacker.
“You..won’t hurt..my family..or..my..friends..ever..again..!” Donald grit out through clenched teeth, the power he emitted quickly draining him. This was difficult- probably the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life- but he knew it had to be done.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” In a last ditch effort to stave off her fate, Magica channeled all the magic she could muster into her staff, held it in one hand, and fired off a blast at point-blank range right as she felt herself being pulled into something cold and cramped.
The resulting blast clashed with the blue magic that was trapping her, causing a massive explosion of magic that swirled together in a deadly-looking sphere of black and blue. The boat was torn to pieces by the explosion and her staff was sent flying in the same direction that her shadow stretched out behind her due to the odd light.
When the chaotic energy finally fizzled out and dissipated, there was nothing left but the scattered remains of the boat and one loan duck half-laying on a scrap of wood, loosely holding onto it with one hand.
Barely conscious, Donald reached his other hand to the locket and snapped it closed, keeping his fingers wrapped around it. He looked exhausted, drained, battered and bruised, and weaker than he ever had before in his life. But, despite all of that, he still had a tired smile on his face.
“I…I did it…” He managed to speak out in a ragged breath. “I…did..it…guys…” The last of his strength left him and his other hand, the one that had been holding onto the piece of wood, slowly let go as his eyes closed.
He felt himself slipping off of the wood and into the water.
He felt himself sinking, weighed down by something caught on his ankle..
He felt a pounding in his head and the last vestiges of consciousness left him as breathing became harder…
He was so tired…
…he just needed a..a quick…
……rest……
<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->
End Notes: Sorry this one was a little bit shorter than the last chapter, I just wanted to space out José and Donald’s fights with Magica to avoid making one extra-huge chapter XP
Next chapter will probably up sooner than this one, at least ^^”
#three gay caballeros#the three gay caballeros#three cabarellos#legend of the three caballeros#the three caballeros#donald duck#scrooge mcduck#della duck#magica de spell#ducktales#The Third Caballero#Anastasia!AU
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To Land On Your Feet - Chapter 08
Remember that this story updates with a chapter between Tuesday-Wednesday and a chapter between Friday-Saturday with the possibility of other chapters in between!
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Summary: Aizawa Shouta had a good life. He was a happily married pro-hero teacher, had two cats that loved to make his life difficult, and soon, if things went well, he would have Shinsou Hitoshi as a son. Thanks to an unexpected attack by a man with the League of Villains, though, Shouta is turned into a cat. While he had a fondness for cats, that never meant he wanted to be one, especially when no one seems to recognize him and his friends and family are trying to find him when he’s right there.
He had been planning to find a way to change back, but instead he ends up following Shinsou Hitoshi to the foster home he lives in after hearing some worrying information from the teen himself. Shouta himself was guilty of venting his frustrations to cats, but hearing that Hitoshi would be locked outside in the cold if he was late getting home was just another clue among countless that something was wrong. He has to get back to normal, but he’d be a poor hero and a shit father-to-be if he didn’t follow the kid and make sure he was okay.
Besides, quirks like this usually had a time limit. Right?
<<First Chapter>> <<Previous Chapter>> <<Next Chapter>>
Chapter Eight
‘For being the Voice Hero, Sunshine, you have the bad habit of being quiet when I need to find you,’ Shouta thought to himself, almost bitter at the fact he had walked around the entire campus twice and had yet to see even a hint of spiked blond hair and ridiculous leather clothing.
There had been plenty of other students and teachers to come and go, classes having let out and even a few of the shorter clubs starting to wind down as students headed home or back to their dorms. He noticed he had yet to see Hitoshi leave, but after seeing his home and the people living there, Shouta wasn’t surprised that the kid wanted to avoid going back as long as possible.
It was a bit odd, though. Shouta had checked the main parts of campus and he hadn’t seen either of them even in passing. It was a Monday so it… wasn’t… Shouta froze before taking a moment to realize what an idiot he was.
It was Monday and that meant he had a training session with Hitoshi. That kid, dedicated as he was, would go through routines in the gym himself if Shouta were to ever go missing; which he now was. Hizashi, however, knew about the training sessions and had never been shy about helping Hitoshi or jumping in himself to teach him. So, if Shouta was missing, then that only left one place for the two of them to be.
Running his way across campus and dodging around the well-trodden paths and cameras that were looked at the least, Shouta trailed to a stop outside of the gym he and Hitoshi often trained in. It was one of the older buildings on campus, now, and it had been old even when he and Hizashi had found it half buried under overgrowth and vines and turned it into their own personal gym.
It had taken most of their first year, and a little bit of their second, but they had eventually managed to soundproof it against Hizashi’s quirk and clean out most of the dust and decay on the inside. It had been their spot to hide and train for their entire school careers, really, and where they had always gone when they needed a moment to center themselves after a hectic day of learning how to be heroes.
Shouta hadn’t realized it at first, but he supposed there was a reason he brought Hitoshi to this gym to train instead of one of the other, more popular and newer ones. He had justified it at the time as being out of the way and therefore no one would interrupt their training, but maybe a part of him had known, even then, that Hitoshi was going to be someone important to him - to them.
Shaking his thoughts off, and wryly musing on how much more introspective he was as a cat, Shouta opened the door and slipped in, grateful for his height and the fact the doorknob wasn’t round.
‘How am I not surprised?’ Shouta wanted to laugh as he saw that Hitoshi was in the middle of the gym and doing his stretches, completely focused and no doubt blocking out everything else. Walking over, Shouta shook his head, ‘Remember what I said about focusing too much on one thing.’
Hitoshi seemed to notice his presence, but instead of worrying or fawning over his new cat friend, he instead huffed a familiar little sound that was a suppressed laugh, “I know, I know, I hyperfocus or whatever it is. It’s not like Mic-sensei is any… Oh.” Hitoshi blinked, relaxing out of his pose and frowning as he properly noticed Shouta. “Eraser. I thought you were Aizawa-sensei.”
‘Well, you weren’t wrong. I really look that different as a cat, huh?’ Shouta sat himself down and gave a quiet greeting, pleased he was getting some control over the volume and range of noise he was able to make in his new form. No doubt it was like what Hizashi had felt when really coming into his quirk.
“At least I named you well,” Hitoshi chuckled, looking ready to go back into another stretch before he shot up ramrod straight, Shouta startling and immediately looking around for what could have caused it. “Eraser- What are you doing here?!”
‘Oh, right, you wanted me to stay off campus.’ Shouta relaxed, stretching out some of the tension that had coiled up in his shoulders. No wonder cats stretched all the time. ‘You know, there are more strays than you think around here. Hizashi hates it because I keep feeding them.’
Finishing his own stretching, Shouta looked back to see Hitoshi was working himself up over the matter, muttering and worrying about being caught with a cat on campus. Shouta was impressed when the story took a rapidly dark turn about how Hitoshi would be forced to live on the streets and Shouta would be locked away in a lab that experimented on animals.
Shouta wondered if transferring Hitoshi into 1-A would really be the best considering it would just encourage his flights of fancy. He didn’t have long to think on it before the door was opening again, Shouta tensing up as he realized it could only be one other person, “Hey there, herolet! You beat me here, it seems, and… so did your cat?”
“I can explain.” Hitoshi now sounded a lot calmer and it broke Shouta’s heart to see all that nervous, excited energy locked away behind an emotionless mask. One glance was all it took to know it broke Hizashi’s, too. After all, he had first seen that mask on Shouta when he had been Hitoshi’s age.
“Really? What’s to explain,” Hizashi shrugged, dramatic in his actions as he sighed and shook his head, “Nothing to do about a friendly stray following you around for the day, right?”
Hitoshi was saying something, but Shouta couldn’t focus because now that he was looking, there was no way in hell he could look away from Hizashi. Instead of the wild and over-the-top Present Mic, he seemed stressed and ready to snap and cave inward at the smallest amount of pressure, hair free of gel and height and instead pulled back into a loose bun and his leather jacket exchanged for a softer sweater that used to be Shouta’s.
He had his sunglasses on, but Shouta didn’t have to see past them to know there were no doubt harsh bags under his eyes to rival his own, the man’s movements slower and stilted as if he hadn’t had any amount of rest in days. There was a quiet, almost inaudible whining sound, and Shouta was surprised to realize it was coming from him.
“-adopted this really cool cat and then he followed me to school and I’m so sorry I know it sounds fake, but he even followed me onto the train, and I tried to get him to leave, but he’s just so stubborn-”
“Whoa, whoa, easy, Hitoshi,” Hizashi soothed, crossing the room to rub at Hitoshi’s back, Shouta beyond pleased to see the teen relax and take a few deep breaths. It wasn’t even a few weeks ago that Hitoshi would have just tensed up even more at being touched like that. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Besides, as a very wise, yet idiotic man once told me, you don’t adopt cats. They adopt you.”
‘I’m trying,’ Shouta grumbled, making a loud screech of a meow to get Hizashi’s attention. ‘Come on, Sunshine, I’m right here. I know your vision isn’t the best, but it’s not that bad.’
“Sorry, he can be pretty loud,” Hitoshi mumbled, Shouta noticing that Hizashi was staring at him, still and silent and all traces of joking wiped away from him “He, uh, I think he might have been hanging around the school the last few days before I found him.”
“Oh. The last few days, huh?” Hizashi’s stillness faded from him and Shouta realized with a detached sense of horror that Hitoshi had just convinced Hizashi that the cat following him wasn’t Shouta.
Taking a moment to take deep breaths just like he taught Hitoshi, Shouta calmed himself as best he could, ‘Kid, we are going to have a very long talk about assuming information, no matter how minor it may be. That can be how heroes die and villains escape.’
“Kind of big for a stray, though,” Hizashi pointed out, kneeling and holding his hand out. Shouta didn’t even hesitate to press against it, closing his eyes and trying to pretend that for a moment, just a moment, everything was okay. “Friendly, though. Did you give him a name?”
There was a very audible silence, Shouta cracking his eyes open to see that Hitoshi was looking embarrassed and avoiding eye contact while Hizashi was slowly grinning. That man could sniff out an embarrassing story a mile away, honestly. ‘Don’t be mean, Hizashi,’ Shouta lectured, pawing at Hizashi’s cheek and getting his attention back on him.
Hizashi went willingly, as he always did, but then gave Shouta a confused and almost hopeless look, mumbling a soft, “Friendly, but not the stray I’m looking for.” Oh, Hizashi. No… No, he was right there.
“Mic-sensei, is Aizawa-sensei still…” Hitoshi’s quiet voice startled them both, Shouta hating the villain who had done this to him so much more as Hizashi hid behind a bright smile.
“We haven’t found him yet, but you know how he is. We’ll probably find him when he just strolls into school one day to continue class all while insisting that nothing happened.” Hizashi gave Shouta one last scratch before standing up, his smile a bit more genuine. “Until then, however, we have to keep doing our best, yeah?”
Right. Shouta needed a new plan. Moving to sit in the corner and let the two begin training, Shouta tried to figure out what he could do. The one student who could help him was out sick, and he knew from personal experience that Nedzu had no ability to understand cats beyond simple body language.
There was no way the police station would let in a stray cat, and his agency would be on the lookout in the future after his last attempt. It was possible they would be made aware of his condition if the villain they captured talked, but that could take weeks depending on how much will the man had; or how much fear he had.
No… his best shot would be to follow Hizashi back home and try to find a way to convince him there. Hitoshi may have missed the signs, but Hizashi had a lot more experience and was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. If nothing else, then Shouta could dig out one of their old scrapbooks and point out pictures of himself. That, along with his appearance, should clue Hizashi in quickly, no matter what Hitoshi had said to influence his thoughts.
Decision made, Shouta settled down and decided to watch the two until the session was over. It wasn’t hard to see that Hizashi was hiding away all his worries and pain, instead focused on Hitoshi and his training.
Shouta watched as Hizashi went over what the teen should be working on, helped him with his poses, reassured him whenever he faltered, and was always quick to cheer him up with a story when it looked like frustration was going to get the best of Hitoshi. Hizashi was doing his best to make everything seem like it was normal and Shouta loved him so much for that alone.
He loved him so much it hurt and Shouta couldn’t even tell him. He had always been silent by nature, but now he was forced to be quiet and, somehow, he had found that he had more to say than he would have thought.
“Alright, let’s call it here for today, yeah?” Hizashi laughed as Hitoshi groaned and collapsed on the floor, Shouta wandering over after a few light stretches to run a paw through Hitoshi’s hair, the gel near completely worked out from all the sweating and moving he had done.
‘Nice work. You’re improving a lot with the binding cloth.’ He had been hesitant, at first, to let Hitoshi train with it, but the teen had gone above and beyond his expectations.
“Looks like your cat is even congratulating you,” Hizashi teased, helping Hitoshi to sit up and checking him over with a careful eye, pleased when he saw the same thing Shouta no doubt did. Hitoshi was tired and exhausted, but perfectly healthy and fine. “You know, it’s getting pretty late and the trains will stop running soon. You could always stay over the night, if you want.”
Hitoshi blinked, looking surprised while Shouta perked up, pleased to see that Hizashi could read his mind even when like this. This was the perfect chance. Hitoshi would be safe at their place and Shouta could work on convincing Hizashi that he was, well, himself.
“O-Oh- No, that’s- I mean- Flattering, but-” Hitoshi fumbled with his words, finally calming down when Hizashi sat down beside him properly and rubbed at his back. “Thank you, really, but my, uh, my parents would probably worry if I just stayed out without letting them know ahead of time, you know, since I sometimes help out with the younger kids.”
‘Kid, that’s bullshit and you know it,’ Shouta snapped, wishing he could knock some sense into the kid. ‘You’re not safe there! Hizashi- Hizashi, I know you can understand me in some way, you can’t let him go back there alone!’
Hizashi was quiet, expression shadowed before it changed to a smile when Hitoshi glanced up at him, “That’s okay, Hitoshi.” No! It wasn’t! “Let them know ahead of time that you’ll be having dinner with us in a few nights when Shouta gets back, though, okay? It’ll just be the three of us, if that sounds okay to you.”
“That… that sounds great.” Hitoshi’s hand found Shouta’s ruff and fingers dug into the fur tightly, as if afraid to let go. “A few nights, right?”
“At most,” Hizashi promised, looking down at Shouta. “Looks like you have a new friend to keep you company at home, though.”
And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Shouta could go with Hizashi for the night and get him to eventually see that it was Shouta, but there was no way, no way in hell, that Shouta could let Hitoshi go back to that house alone now that he knew what was waiting for him.
Lost in his thoughts for a moment, Shouta looked up to see that Hitoshi had stood and started heading towards the door to leave, Hizashi still sitting on the ground with an expression that was so tired.
Walking forward a few steps, Shouta gave a quiet noise, Hizashi looking down at him for a moment before giving one of those weak, sad smiles, “Sorry, but I’m not very good company at the moment.”
‘I’ll come back,’ Shouta promised, bracing his paws on Hizashi’s knees and leaning up to press his lips against the man’s forehead as best he could. ‘I promise, Sunshine, I promise I’ll come back to you, but… Someone has to keep our kid safe.’
Hearing a hitch in Hizashi’s breathing, like a choked back whimper, Shouta leaned back to see Hizashi had a hand half raised towards him, eyes wide and entire expression vulnerable. Hearing the door to the gym start to open, Shouta locked eyes with Hizashi, gave one slow blink, and then ran after Hitoshi.
“Aizawa-sensei better get back soon,” Hitoshi muttered as soon as Shouta was back at his side, the gym door closing and Hizashi disappearing behind it. It hurt more than Shouta thought it would. “He’s making Mic-sensei worry.”
‘Trust me, kid, I know.’ Shouta was out of options for today, but he’d try again tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that if he had to. Kouda would have to come back to school eventually and, barring that, one of the teachers or students would put together that the large Eraserhead-looking cat wandering around was actually him.
Shouta glanced back up at Hitoshi, the kid rambling and grinning and waving his hands about as he started telling some story about something ridiculous that had happened. If nothing else, at least he could keep his and Hizashi’s kid safe.
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So, given Dabi's perceived incompetence, you think his scars are self inflicted? I figured that, if Dabi is indeed Touya, he must have tried to impress Endeavor and show him that he is "worth it". So he probably tried to train himself in seclusion. But with a body meant for ice, he was not able to handle the flames and ended up burning himself and running away, traumatized or something along those lines. Admittedly, it could be a stretch, since we have no details on what exactly happened.
Post is NOT spoiler free, watch out anime-only fans~!
Had a bunch of asks about Dabi in my inbox after my Dabi post but I got distracted thinking about ships… I’m back now and gonna answer a few that are all about that Dabi is a Todoroki theory~
Look man, if he’s not Touya, I will officially be the S H O O K E S T. At this point, the real plot twist would be if he wasn’t! I really think there are just so many signs at this point that I can’t make myself believe it won’t happen. I mean the fact that Horikoshi deliberately drew Endeavor’s eyesight being damaged before his confrontation with Dabi so that Endeavor wouldn’t be able to see him clearly??? COME ON.
But man we’re all going to look so stupid if he isn’t Touya…
Rest under the read more to save people’s dashes:
As for how Dabi got his scars… I don’t have any answers, of course, just my own theories and conjectures based on vague statements and panels in the manga…
I guess first I’d point out that while we don’t know really much about Touya at all, we do know a couple things:
1) He physically took after Rei way more than Natsuo or Fuyumi did. Despite being Natsuo’s confirmed older brother, Touya was a tiny kid. Given that he would have to very close to Fuyumi in age or older than her, the fact that he was shorter than his sister just makes this all the more noticeable. This kind of tininess is usually (although of course not always) a deliberate visual indicator that there was something wrong with the child’s health. Looking at the only two panels he appears in definitely gives the impression that he was a pretty fragile-looking kid who I would not be surprised to hear had health problems (bad fevers from an overpowered fire quirk, anyone?).
2) His posture in this frame is also pretty telling. They all look nervous–it’s obvious they’re being looked at by Endeavor and are uncomfortable with it–but while Natsuo looks a little shame-faced and Fuyumi a little confused, Touya is clutching his hands together in a classic “timid child” pose. It seems likely to me that he wasn’t an especially assertive kid.
3) Then there’s the whole hair issue–is his hair red like the anime or white like the manga? The only reason I could see for not coloring his hair dark in the manga is that Horikoshi specifically uses black ink for the red color of the Todoroki family’s hair–coloring Touya’s hair completely black would make it beyond obvious that he’s Dabi. But still, couldn’t he have used tone like he does for Kirishima’s hair? We know that white hair = ice quirk, so I am very interested to find out whether the anime has it right in using red, or whether the white used in the manga is plot relevant, and we’re going to find that Touya really did have a body meant for an ice quirk…
4) We also have Natsuo’s ominous comment:
To me at least, this statement seems somehow… specific? Like there was some Big Deal™ that immediately caused Touya not to be in their lives anymore, and Endeavor was directly involved in it. Natsuo definitely strikes me as the type who would blame Endeavor for a training accident, even if Touya was training of his own free will, but I can’t personally shake the feeling that Endeavor was right there whenever the Bad Thing with Touya happened and that Endeavor, Fuyumi, and Natsuo all know more about Touya’s fate than they’re willing to talk about. I think it’s important that we’ve never seen a scene of Natsuo and Fuyumi getting any close looks at Dabi either.
6) The kids’ ages are important I think. Shouto is about five years old when he sees his siblings playing soccer, and they all looked about the same age there as in this second screen cap, although I wouldn’t put Fuyumi at 12 in the screen cap above, so maybe not… In any case, we know that Shouto was already in training (~5 years old) and Touya had no major visible scars. So Touya made it to at least 12 years old without doing major damage to his body (although of course it could be under the clothes). Based on that, personally I would doubt a bit that he was training and burning himself in secret, at least not for any extended amount of time.
6) The one piece of evidence we have for figuring out what actually happened to cause the scars is the burn pattern itself, especially on Dabi’s face. One thing that people have often pointed out is that Dabi’s facial burns line up fairly well with the places fire also settles on Endeavor’s face:
Also I’m pretty sure Dabi officially qualifies as BNHA’s biggest glow up. If you compare chapter 67 to chapter 190 it’s like looking at two totally different characters lol
But, more importantly than this, I think, is the fact that we never see Dabi’s fire take this shape in the manga. Although in a couple of scenes his flames have covered parts of his face, we’ve never–not even one time–seen fire specifically come from below his eyes or around his mouth like Endeavor. This is not something that normally happens with his quirk–which could mean that he was copying Endeavor when the injuries occurred.
So what did happen?
I don’t know, but if you ask me for a personal headcanon about it:
In a desperate attempt to protect his mother from being taken away and forced into the mental institution, Touya Todoroki challenged his father to a fight he could never win and pushed his own body so far beyond its limits that he nearly died.
I mean, if sweet baby Shouto had a reaction this intense:
Just imagine the reaction of the children who would have been conscious to see their mother ripped away from their home, possibly violently, possibly forever? With Rei having snapped hard enough to attack Shouto, I can’t imagine that she would have taken well to Endeavor physically confronting and restraining her to force her away… It could have been quite a horrific scene in the house after Shouto passed out from the pain, and what better way to cover up damage to one kid then to blame Rei, who had already damaged the other? This would help lend greater credence to Rei still being in the mental institution too: if the doctors have her on the record for causing or at least provoking the injuries of not one son but two…
Obviously such a fragile-looking child as Touya, who we know was never formally trained, would have stood no chance against an absolutely enraged Endeavor, but if we know one thing about the Todoroki family, it’s that they’re stubborn beyond belief. Endeavor probably batted aside his failure of an eldest son like it was nothing… but Touya refused to stay down. I think, overwhelmed by hatred and resentment, he put everything he had into trying to fight back against his father, bursting with flames too hot for his ill-suited body, heedless of his own pain.
That break in Dabi’s bottom lip is from the unprotected skin splitting as he screamed in rage and agony while on fire. Just sayin’!!
And even after going beyond his limits in every way, to still inevitably be crushed beneath his father’s heel… I can’t imagine the degree of loathing such a miserable defeat would make a child feel for heroes and all of hero society who let down the Todoroki siblings so badly…
If Touya ran from the hospital afterward, we could even be looking at a situation in which Dabi has been raising himself all alone since he was 12 or 13. Hell, he might even have caught the tail-end of Stain’s soapbox speeches about the revival of heroics while living out on streets…
BUT, YOU KNOW, that’s just my imagination running wild. XDD
I’m sure that my headcanon is too exaggerated to be true, but I do think the scars are self-inflicted and that Touya did fight with Endeavor at some point before abruptly leaving the Todoroki household.
Or… he’s not even a Todoroki and he totally gave himself those scars just to look cool or something lolol.
It’s SYMBOLICCCCC.
Okay, being a little more serious, I think it’s mostly being used the same way as that one scene of Itachi in the rain in Naruto:
Holy shit I never thought I’d be looking at a page of the Naruto manga again…
It’s basically a scene used to humanize and show a tiny glimpse of a “villain” character’s hidden depths–is Dabi all evil, or is there some softness underneath?
The blood is definitely supposed to symbolically represent tears, which actively tells the reader “Something about the idea of families hurts Dabi.” Coupled with the fact that he’s also smiling in a way that does not suit the moment at all and talking about how thinking about what Snatch said actually drove Dabi crazy, I think we’re also supposed to be getting the feeling that Dabi is not quite as calm and collected as he seems to be on the surface. We all love to call him the “sane man” in the League of Villains’ sea of crazy, but it’s entirely possible that Dabi is experiencing or has, at some point, experienced a psychotic break and that the almost lazy, unaffected behavior we see from him most of the time is little more than a thin veneer on top of a much less stable inner-mind…
What interests me is how many people (even the BNHA wiki) seem to suggest that these symbolic blood tears indicate that Dabi feels remorse for the families of all his victims… But I wonder if that’s really the case at all.
Does he feel remorse regarding his victims’ families… or only his own? While I think it’s tempting to imply that Dabi feels bad about all the families he’s hurt in general (which would be a good redemption arc flag), I’m actually inclined to think that Dabi is a little more self-centered character than that, and it’s his own family that’s on his mind here, not guilt over strangers he’s never met and never will meet.
I lol’d. Even more than that–by saying this to Endeavor, he’s almost certainly ensured another Dabi vs. Endeavor clash in the future, so like… he basically gave his dad impenetrable plot armor for another 50-100 chapters. XDDD
Dabi, my dear heart, why are you such a dumpster fire???
#dabi#dabi is a todoroki#touya todoroki#dabi headcanons#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#boku no hero academia meta#dabi meta#you can pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands#my hero academia#my hero academia spoilers#I dislike when series are not named the same thing across all languages#it's a pain feeling obligated to tag with two names for the same thing
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What is Binge Drinking?
The actual amount of alcohol you need to drink in a session for it to be classified as binge drinking varies depending on who you ask, but the everyday definition is roughly 8 units of alcohol (around 3 pints of strong beer), and 2-3 units of alcohol for women (around 2 large glasses of wine) ingested in a brief time frame. However, these numbers are far from accurate, and in the real world, binge drinking is better defined by the level of intoxication than the amount of alcohol. The National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA) defines binge drinking as "a pattern of drinking that brings a person's blood alcohol concentration (BAC) to.08 % or above". In layman's terms, if you're drinking to "get drunk ", you're binge drinking. Just what Are The Effects Of Binge Drinking? A wide range of studies have established that consuming significant quantities of alcohol in solitary drinking sessions is actually a bit more harmful to your health and well-being than consuming lesser quantities on a regular basis. In countless nations, binge drinking is considered an appropriate social activity among developing professionals and college age kids. Regular binge drinking is commonly viewed as a initiation rite into adulthood. rasputin 1. Binge drinkers use extremely imperfect judgment and aggression. Binge drinkers normally make bad decisions they wouldn't arrive at when sober or when drinking within their limits. This can include things like drinking and driving, assault, minor trouble making, risky sexual behavior, and combative behavior. Studies have shown that alcohol is a variable in 1 among every 3 sex crimes, 1 among 3 burglaries, and one-half of all street crimes. 2. Mishaps and tumbles are commonplace. This is because of the severe effects drunkenness has on decision making, balance and motor skills. 3. In rare circumstances, binge drinkers can experience fatal alcohol poisoning. Binge drinkers are also susceptible to choking to death on their own regurgitate if they pass out on their back. If you are caring for a person who is passed out drunk, always make certain to keep them face down. Binge drinking is a gateway to prolonged misuse and dependence. For people who have addictive inclinations or for whom alcoholism runs deep in the family, averting binge drinking sessions may be a way to evade plummeting into the quicksand of alcohol dependence in the first place. 5. Binge drinking is able to induce depression in certain people, especially when its relied on as a way to cover-up psychological and mental pain. 6. Binge Drinking, What is it? taking part in binge drinking poses longer term health and wellness threats, including magnified risk of stroke, cardiovascular disease, liver disease, and high blood pressure. stop drinking alcohol Should I Avoid Binge Drinking Entirely? rasputin If you have difficulties with alcohol, then yes, binge drinking is a definite no-no. But for any young college and university age kids reading this, I can't seriously stand here and tell you not to do it. That's your decision to make. Lots of young adults get hammered on weekends and have a terrific time. While The Path to Addiction: Stages of Alcohol addiction leads to blackouts, dreadful mornings, day-after regrets For countless, these kinds of mistakes are a rite of passage. I had a great time drinking and partying in college and quite a bit afterwards. Clearly, things started to deteriorate for me at some point, but I have a number of good friends who party and binge on occasion, yet do so sensibly and live thoroughly gratifying lives with no alcohol tolerance or abuse troubles. I can't tell you not to binge drink, however, I can tell you that it's not without its risks. Mishaps and problems do happen, and some of these accidents and problems can have irreversible, life changing consequences. Do it as responsibly as possible if you're going to binge drink. Also, pay attention these warning signs that might tell you when your weekend social binge drinking has morphed into a serious alcohol problem: * The consequences of a wild night out are continuously escalating * You start to binge drink more and more often * You are experiencing issues with the law * You've had a pregnancy scare * You drink and drive * You hardly ever go more than a few weeks without binge drinking * You've passed out someplace or another with no one to watch out for you * You've thrown up in your sleep * You're racking up credit card debt to afford your pub-crawling habits * You have unsafe sex activity * Friends/family have challenged you about your alcohol consumption * You binge drink on your own (big red flag here). In lots of nations, binge drinking is regarded as an acceptable social activity among young individuals and college age children. Regular binge drinking is commonly viewed as a rite of passage into the adult years. Binge drinkers normally make poor judgments they wouldn't make when sober or when drinking within their limits. When it comes to those with addictive tendencies or for whom alcohol dependence runs the family, staying clear of binge drinking sessions may be a way to keep away from plunging into the quicksand of alcoholism in the first place. If you have issues with alcohol, then yes, binge drinking should be avoided.
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Double Exposure is a collaborative series that features the work of an admired artist.
LightLeaks second featured artist is Eva Mecham–a Vegas-based photographer who strives to represent women in an industry dominated by men. While the struggle to find respect always seems like a challenge, she continues her quest to become a respected photographer by practicing and perfecting her craft.
In this segment of Double Exposure, our aim is to support women, not just in photography but in every field where women are not represented fairly, respected or even paid enough in comparison to our male counterparts.
Eva and I interviewed each other to learn more about our love for photography, how our interest for photography originated, our influences and more.
EVA JACQUELINE MECHAM
Age: 23
DOB: 06/03/1994 Gemini
Background: Portuguese/Lao/German/French
Born: Las Vegas, NV
Raised: East Side Las Vegas
Insta Handles:
@spottiottieva was the first personal instagram I ever had but it became more technical to show ALL my work through.
…so I created the other two pages to serve as multiple outlets of exposure exuding different variable factors.
Humans AND Environment. Lol.
@sweetleaf_phto is female energy only and conceptual portraits/groupshots.
@jacqueline_images is my art and street photo page.
Why/how did get into photography?
My grandfather. He documented just about everything. He passed away in 2011 but his legacy lives on. He lived a life beyond what photos could show. His family traveled from Spain to America during the 1920’s. His determination, discipline, will, focus, and attention to detail rooted in me and allowed me to open my mind to the idea of collecting and acquiring but with tangibility and substance.
Past my grandfather stimulating my lifestyle choices I felt that spark after I developed my first roll of film. Being able to hold a photo in your hands is truly magic in the simplest form. Photos have influenced me my entire life. Keeps me constantly reverting back to instances and wishing I could save moments to time travel to. Just like music or a scent, a photo can greatly alter your perception or mood.
Last, a major reason I ever pushed my photography skills beyond documentation was skateboarding. I was at a young age when I fell more and more in love with every skate mag or video I ever watched. Naturally I began sourcing all my inspiration and tones through how the skateboarding industry plastered my brain. It’s common to have these wild kids throw themselves off staircases with ease and dive into 12ft deep drops every day. Whether it was filmed with thousand dollar equipment or the cheapest vx setup, A-1 quality images and content has always been around. It wasn’t until I learned real anticipation taking a pre meditated flick of a skater in motion performing a trick repeatedly without near success till maybe the 20th try in, that I understood the feeling of that equation. That 21st key shot is a high. All that focus.
What does your photos mainly consist /focus on? Why?
My photo collection is a mix of portraits of friends I’ve built connections or bridges with while the other half is a handful of my travels, daily life, and streets I walk through. I have to mention I LOVE ART of ANY kind. Art embodied within all forms. Especially if it doesn’t belong somewhere or a rule was broken to make or keep it there. I believe in the idea that the world truly is ours so exercising the freedom to express ourselves is common law to me. Almost like a personal passion project. On the other hand my favorite subject to photograph are literal human hands. I’m fascinated by hands. Our hands are such beautiful blessings that we often take for granted. With our hands we can touch, create, hurt, destroy, clean, whatever it be. Our hands are multifaceted and a huge relatable connection between us all as humans. No one hand is the same. Like our eyes, I feel they are also portals to the soul.
You are all about empowering women. How do you convey this in your work?
Confidence can be instilled in many ways but I have never seen more confidence instilled within a female more than when she enjoys a photo of herself. Living in this overly extroverted world, it’s common to find that most women compare themselves to everyone. Even men. I know this to be true because I can testify myself. I’ve grown up riddled with anxieties I’ve whispered to my inner conscience for so many years, without even realizing it. A photo can translate emotions and feelings you didn’t know you had. A virtual avenue. A portable capsule of what existed at that time. There is growth in a photo. People glorify in the beauty of a butterfly but fail to remember the stages of growth it took to become that butterfly we see. So for me to be able to capture the growth of is something one of a kind to me. Anyone or anything can have it’s photo taken. But it’s all about the subject. I stress to validate the women in my photos through our shared experience and what they represent passionately. Who are these women and how can I uniquely translate what they have made me feel through a mere photo for the world to perceive.
Talk about your experience collaborating on this project.
Norma! I’m extremely flattered you would have asked me to be a part of this project as it is so pure and beautiful. I love to share my thoughts and feelings and often feel I am overlooked and underestimated. Every once and awhile I meet someone who makes me feel human and included at the same time. I look up to you Norma as you are an incredibly vivid photographer with natural ability only acquired through patience, growth, focus, determination, and skill. I often wish we had met sooner. But there is a reason for everything and the influence you have provided has guided me quite a bit. I truly love Jelly and KNOW without a doubt that dog has a great soul. I’m lucky to have friends who aspire to create, as this will be so enjoyable in my older years to look back on and cherish as I fade.
Who is your fav photographer?
This is probably the hardest question you put on here but I’d have to say my grandfather.
Whose work has influenced your work the most?
I honestly wouldn’t be able to narrow it down but i enjoy and source my inspiration from lots of the lasting images of these timeless talents below….
Keegan Gibbs (so fucking fire)-
Atiba Jefferson (skateboarding essentials)
Mike O’Meally (classic skateboarding essentials)
Henry Chalfant (innumerable amounts of graffiti documentation)
Tobin Yelland (filmy skateboard shots)
Duran Levinson (insane portrait photographer)
Craig Stecyk (Z-town documenter/skateboarding essentials)
JR (graffiti/wheatpastephotographer)
Martha Cooper (80’s legend in street art journalism)
Alex Fakso (skate & graffiti essentials)
Ruedi One (for those wet blk&wht artsy street nights)
Ed Templeton (almost forgot this legend)
Nan Goldin (female legend)
Haris Nukem (vivid portrait photographer)
Ruth Orkin (female legend)
Who are you currently listening to, music-wise?
I have this private playlist I made myself I play every morning after I get up to get ready for the day. I’m revealing the first 3 songs but the rest is secret.
Rebel without a pause-Public Enemy.
Leaving Babylon-Sublime.
If 6 was 9-Jimi Hendrix.
Besides the essentials I‘ve been playing a lot of lo-fi hip hop beats/scratches/mixups while I work or create lately.
I usually have either an Alchemist or Madlib CD in my car stereo. I use a lot of CD’s and cassettes lol. Let’s just say my auxiliary option is variably unreliable so CD’s are solid lol.
What is your favorite photo you’ve taken and why?
I thought for so long on how to answer this. Haha. I have to say that every photo is my favorite. Not to feed the ego or anything but maybe in other words I’m a hoarder. Any and all photos I take fall into my collection and that to me is something that holds my life’s work and ultimate value. My archive. The best way to put this answer into perspective is the idea that I’m not done yet. I’m still constantly & avidly pursuing higher dimensions through photography, through life, through myself. For me to choose a favorite photo would be for me to say that I’ve reached some finished point. Don’t get me wrong I have favorited shots over others but like I said I love every photo I take because I love life.
Digital or film? Why?
Film is permanent. Technology isn’t built to last forever. You don’t need technology shooting film. Art in a post apocalyptic world is a priority. Creating something tangible is far more lasting to me. Especially one with an element of surprise.
A fixed restriction makes you think twice, I’m sure. Film is exactly that. Knowing you have that limited amount of shots, each one seems to count more. Film is a spectrum balance between a premeditated photo or a foggy moment in time. I’m a fast paced shooter but with shooting film I catch myself staring at nothing till I see something. Essentially, it’s something that actually slows me down and I need that.
Movie you’d recommend an aspiring photographer to watch for inspo.
Recommendation for inspo for an aspiring photographer hmmmm!
I’d say watch any Tim Burton film. That’s a given. I’m a major fan ofTim Burton’s movies and stories.
Then I’d say, Across the Universe and Inherent Vice. And after that watch some of Quentin Tarantino’s films. Those are all classic.
FEMALE POWUR PLAYLIST
https://open.spotify.com/user/normal_genes/playlist/351NQKgAj4lfzEnuamHKAm?si=V4TwoqWoQgWXME8Rzlzh1A
EVA PHOTO GALLERY
S E T 1
S E T 2
S E T 3
FILM SET
NORMA JEAN ORTEGA aka NJ
Sign: Gemini
Background: Filipino American
Born: Las Vegas, NV
Being self-taught, how do you educate yourself on new ideas and techniques to take better pictures?
I can’t say I was self-taught because my dad was photographer. So I essentially grew up with the concept of photography. One of my first jobs was at this photo studio at Meadows Mall. I learned the basics in color balance, posing models and composition. College is where I got my formal training in photography. I learned how to shoot strictly in manuel when I took 3 years of black & white film photography and I became obsessed to say the least. Practicing photography in this manner gave me a sense of meaning behind the photos I took. I loved the idea of building a concept for the photos I had taken and embraced the idea of suspension and surprise.
But to answer your question, I learn new techniques by trail and error. Stick to one camera for a long period of time until I feel like I’ve mastered it then move on to the next. YouTube is also a thing. LOL. What is it that you want to say with your photographs, and how do you channel your work to illustrate that? Why? My personal photography documents moments and captures feelings that I like to look back on. A photo diary for the most part.
The subjects I touch on in my more serious work, aims to unpack what it means to be an Asian American female—of course from my own person experience. I express distressing feelings from my childhood, my feelings towards Asian stereotypes and dissect the standards of beauty in Asian culture.
When packing photo gear for a trip, what all do you take with you and why? My olympus stylus, fujifilm 400/800. A majority of the photos I take on a trip mimic the documentary style that I grew up with, however instead of focusing on people I try to focus on a moment and gut feeling that I am drawn to capture.
What motivates you to continue taking photos, whether it be socially, economically, politically, intellectually or emotionally? Everything is cathartic for me. It is a way to release a thought or feeling that I wouldn’t otherwise know how to express. Writing was my source of releasing this energy but through photography, I love how subjective it is to everyone else. You can share your work and get a complete different reaction or thought for what it was intended. But for me, when I look at my images, I know exactly how I felt and what I was struggling with at moment. It is somewhat of a reminder.
Within the aspect of women and social culture, what would you say is the difference between capturing beauty vs. vulgarity?
I think that what is considered vulgar for women is a popular theme in art, where artists are trying to breakdown that social norm for women. What was expected of women is being shattered by the “vulgar” images expressed by various female artists and photographers. It is essential, necessary and about fuckin’ time. To be lady-like was a standard put together by men and women are fully capable of conducting themselves however they see fit.
How did you develop an interest in photography and at what age were you?
Grew up around photography because of my dad. So I guess I always had an interest in photography. I grew up with a camera in my face and albums of albums of every major holiday and moment in my life. One of my first jobs was working in a photo studio called Photomania. Kids would go there to take their high school photos and basically trade them to each other like Pokemon cards. Hahah!
But working there was dope! I got to learn how to print from an old school printing machine. Had to clean that beast of a machine and take it apart every night. But I never took photography seriously until college. It’s when I finally learned about the greats (like Ansel Adams, Robert Frank, Cindy Sherman, and Weegee) that I completely got turned on to it.
Whose work has influenced you most, any favorites? Francesca Goodman, Nan Goldin, Ren Hang, Petra Collins, Carrie Mae Weems, Stanley Kubrick, Catherine Angel and Kimber Beck
When you are out shooting, how much of it is instinctual vs planned?
Half and half. And some times it’s completely spontaneous which is the best because when you feel that it’s the right moment, you just gotta go for it and pray that the photo comes out the way you wanted it to.
How has social media played a role in your photography?
It’s influenced me in the ways of curating my posts. Before, I just use to post whatever. But I think moving along the years of Instagram, I’ve seen how streamlined people can get with their style and feel of their photos. I also have my job to thank for that too.
While, I do curated my post, the work os still all mine. So I still see my Instagram as a photo journal but broken down into different segments.
What advice can you dish for any entry level photographers?
By a cheap camera and master it. Don’t buy into getting high quality gear until you find your style. Also, hang out with the local photographers you admire. You want to surround yourself with people who will push you to do better. A good piece of advice I learned from my cousin, Ez. Thanks cuh!
and of course i almost forgot….Talk about your experience collaborating on this project.
From our initial meeting at 6th & Franklin, I knew you we’re a go-getter! Actually, I hadn’t even met you yet but people we’re talking you up so hard that I was honestly intimidated. But real talk, I admire your constant drive to create work and your strive to improve your skills as a photographer. You are a walking and talking think-tank!
Doing this project was another project that I felt drawn to do, just like with my first Doublexposure guest, Andi. Everything I pursue in terms of interviews is purely for the need to connect with people who I admire. I am proud for what you stand for as an artist and I will support you every step of the way. Love ya girl 😘
NORMA JEAN PHOTO GALLERY
SET 1
SET 2
SET 3
FILM SET
Double Exposure: Featuring Eva Mecham Double Exposure is a collaborative series that features the work of an admired artist. LightLeaks second featured artist is…
#art#artists#blog#blogger#blogging#empowering women#equality#femalephotographers#feminism#film#film photography#friends#photography#women photographers#women supporting women#womens history month
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[Irregular Webcomic! #4163](https://ift.tt/2FxgI5a)
Where to begin? As most of you are no doubt already aware, Australia is currently enduring a major bushfire emergency, which began with fires in September 2019, which are ongoing and still posing major dangers. The past couple of weeks, since Christmas, have been particularly bad as the summer heats up and large masses of hot, dry air persist over the continent. I spent Christmas Eve with my family at an evening gathering. The weather was relatively cool, a nice change from some of the scorching Christmases we've had in the past few years. My aunt and uncle (who were hosting the event) told me of their plan to head down the south coast to their holiday home in the tiny beachside town of Lake Conjola, to spend some time relaxing over the summer holidays with their two children (young adults). I though nothing more of it, until a week later, on New Year's Eve. That day was very hot, with heatwave conditions across much of south-eastern Australia. This made the still-burning bushfires more intense and helped them to spread more quickly. I was keeping an eye on news sites for updates. Before I knew it, Lake Conjola was under direct threat. This town is at the end of a single access road running to the coast form the Princes Highway, the main north-south route along to the coast, here running a few kilometres inland. The fire burned across the highway, cutting it off both north and south of Lake Conjola, so rapidly that there was virtually no time between emergency authorities issuing an evacuation order, and subsequently having to close the road due to immediate danger. The fires closed in, cutting off Lake Conjola from the outside world. They burnt down power poles, cutting electricity to the town, and damaged cell phone towers. Just before communications were cut, my aunt sent the following photos to our family. These show a firefighting helicopter with water bucket collecting water form the lake, and then spot fires in the town ahead of the main fire front. My aunt messaged that her plan was to evacuate to the beach if the fire got close to the holiday house, where at least she could be safe. While the world rang in 2020, I had no idea if my aunt and uncle and their kids, or their house, would survive the night. I also had a friend who was down the coast with his wife and three young girls, in a separate holiday town a but further south. Their location was not under as immediate threat, but with the roads cut around them they also had nowhere else to go. I woke up on New Year's Day and checked the news. It was piecemeal because it was too difficult to get emergency authorities and reporters into the area, but indications were that the fire had gone directly through Lake Conjola. It wasn't until lunchtime on New Year's Day that I heard any news about my aunt and uncle. My cousin (their son) sent a message that many houses in Lake Conjola had been destroyed, but he didn't know if theirs was one of them. A bit later there was another message, saying that the street their house was on had lost no houses, so he presumed their house was safe. At this point I realised that he wasn't there in Lake Conjola himself. The next message he said that there was still no news about his mother (my aunt). It turned out that she had travelled down to the holiday house to get it ready for the holiday, buying groceries and so on. The rest of the family had been planning to go down a day or two later and join her, but they'd been stopped by the road closures on New Year's Eve, and never got there. My aunt was in Lake Conjola with no family. My cousin was naturally scanning for any news he could get and collecting information from any source he could find. The next thing he sent to us were photos taken in Conjola on New Year's Eve: He didn't say who took these photos, so I don't know. (I'm therefore unable to credit the original photographers - if you know, please let me know. I've since found some of the photos, uncredited, in this story from the Milton Ulladulla Times.) And that famous photo that made front page news around the world, of a kangaroo jumping past a house ablaze? That was taken in Conjola on New Year's Eve. That's where my aunt was trapped. At 3:30 pm, we finally had news from my aunt. She managed to find some patchy phone reception and sent word that she was safe, and the house was safe. The fire had gone through the tiny settlement of Conjola Park, a couple of kilometres west of Lake Conjola, and destroyed almost every house there. Fortunately for the residents of Lake Conjola itself, just as the fire reached the edge of town, destroying three houses, the wind had changed, blowing it away from the remainder of the town. My aunt was safe, but still trapped. The highway north and south was still closed with ongoing fires. It remained this way for the next three days. Lake Conjola had no power, no incoming food supplies, extremely patchy phone reception, and no way for anyone to travel anywhere. Emergency services had bigger things on their minds, with larger towns under threat and larger populations, up to 4000 people in some cases, to evacuate from more immediate danger zones. With the fire already turned back from Conjola, my aunt had to wait with limited food and fresh water, and no way to communicate. The road finally opened again on Friday 4 January, four full days after the town had been isolated. Emergency services personnel escorted small groups of vehicles out and along the highway to safety. No vehicle was allowed to travel without an escort, in case burnt trees fell and cut off the road - they didn't want people to go missing. Later that afternoon she was reunited with my uncle. This is just one small story from a disaster that is engulfing Australia. As I type this (on Monday 6 January), 25 people have been confirmed killed by the fires, 7 remain missing. Well over 1500 homes have been destroyed, as well as thousands of other buildings and structures. The total area burnt so far is over 80,000 square kilometres, which is larger than Ireland, almost as large as Austria. These numbers will continue increasing for weeks, as the fires continue to burn, unstoppable in the hottest part of summer, as we suffer the worst drought in recorded history. Even in places not directly affected by flames, the smoke from the fires is causing hazardous air quality across much of south-eastern Australia. For over a month now, air quality in Sydney (where I live) has been marginal some days, and officially "hazardous" on many other days. Visibility has been down to 100 metres or so because of thick smoke in the air, the sun shines down with an apocalyptic orange glow even during the middle of the day, and the smell of smoke is everywhere. Ash and burnt leaves fall from the sky, even in the middle of the city. Outdoor surfaces, wiped clean, are covered in a fine gritty ash the next day. Hospital admissions are up around 10-15% because of people experiencing increased asthma and other respiratory conditions. Canberra, which is a long way from any fires, has experienced several days in a row of horrible air conditions, with many institutions and government departments shutting down because it's too hazardous even inside the buildings for people to work. Historic towns, full of significant buildings, such as Cobargo, have been almost entirely destroyed. Mount Selwyn, a ski resort has been entirely destroyed by fire. Huge numbers of livestock are dead or dying, and there are fears that the task of disposing of the carcasses may overwhelm resources, leading to decay and the risk of disease spreading. An estimated 500 million wild mammals, birds, and reptiles have been killed. A fire on Kangaroo Island, a 4400 square km island in South Australia, has burnt almost half the island, killing over half the population of approximately 50,000 koalas there and injuring many others beyond recovery. The koala population on Kangaroo Island was considered the last bastion of koalas, as it's the only isolated wild population free of the chlamydia infection which is killing other koala communities. Agricultural losses are huge. Many of the destroyed buildings were old, from a time when asbestos was routinely used as a building material. The smoking ruins are now too dangerous to go near or clean up without a full environment suit, because of the risk of asbestos fibres released into the air. When and if the rain finally comes, there are fears it could wash enormous amounts of ash into our reservoirs, clogging treatment systems and threatening the water supply to major cities like Sydney. While this has been happening, the Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison has been singularly unresponsive and unhelpful. In April 2019, prior to the Australian Federal election, a group of 22 former fire and emergency services chiefs from multiple states issued a public statement saying that Australia was unprepared for worsening natural disasters from climate change and Federal and State Governments were putting lives at risk. They requested a meeting with the next Government to discuss the increased risks and how to adequately fund and prepare emergency services for them[1]. By November, when the current fire crisis was already well underway, the Government had still not met with the group[2]. Morrison is the man who as Federal Treasurer in 2017 literally brought a lump of coal into Parliament during Question Time and told people how great it was to mine it and burn it[3]. As it was becoming clear just how terrible things would be in the week before Christmas, he took a holiday to Hawaii, which he cut short when it was clear how much public criticism this was attracting. Later, Morrison toured the destroyed town of Cobargo. Not to comfort people or ask what he could do to help. He tried to shake the hand of an exhausted volunteer firefighter, who told the Prime Minister, "I don't really want to shake your hand." Morrison reach for the man's right hand, but the firefighter pulled it away. Morrison then grabbed the man's left hand and gave it a cursory shake, before walking away.
Gosh this is so awkward. Australian PM Scott Morrison goes to try and shake the hand of a firefighter who does not appear keen. (The PM was abused earlier by angry locals) Filmed by @GregNelsonACS @abcnews #AustraliaBurning #NSWbushfires #SouthCoastFires pic.twitter.com/3zjeJp3jWe
— Sophie McNeill (@Sophiemcneill) January 2, 2020
Soon after Morrison spoke to a local incident controller of the Rural Fire Service: "Tell that fella I’m really sorry, I’m sure he’s just tired." The controller replied, "No no, he lost a house."
Shortly after the non-handshake: PM: “Tell that fella I’m really sorry, I’m sure he’s just tired.” Local incident controller: “No no, he lost a house.”#AustraliaBurning #ausfires #nswfires pic.twitter.com/9PodUTCf9z
— Siobhan Heanue (@siobhanheanue) January 2, 2020
In the same visit, Morrison approached young mother Zoey Salucci-McDermott, 28 weeks pregnant, who had lost her home in the fire. As she was in the process of saying, "I'm only shaking your hand if you give more funding to our RFS [Rural Fire Service]," he reached for and took her hand forcefully - against her will - giving it a brief shake. "So many people have lost their homes ... We need more help," she continued, as the Prime Minister turned his back on her and walked away, letting a minder do the job of shushing the woman. Now, I'm not a politician, but I think a better option here would have been to: (1) not grab someone's hand - not a firefighter, let alone a young woman - when it's not being offered for a handshake, (2) listen to the people who are hurting, (3) tell them that you're listening, you understand that they're upset, and (4) ask them what they think the Government has done wrong and how it can change to make things better. I don't tend to be outspoken politically online, but when when things have gotten to the point where this sort of thing is happening, and I personally fear for the life of a relative in a disaster exacerbated, if not caused, by climate change, you can rest assured that I'm not happy about where we are, how we got here, or the role of the Australian Government in making things worse. For people overseas, I'm sorry that our Government is setting such a bad example. [1] Former fire chiefs warn Australia unprepared for escalating climate threat. [2] Morrison's government on the bushfires: from attacking climate 'lunatics' to calling in the troops. [3] Scott Morrison brings coal to question time: what fresh idiocy is this?
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Verses
Just a list of the verses I have on this blog so far; more will no doubt be added sometime but for now this is what I have.
Three Parts Innocent, One Part Guilty - Main Verse
When Lincoln accepted an offer - kill this one man and we’ll pay the money you still owe on your loan - he didn’t expect it to throw him into a world of conspiracies and an elaborate, flawlessly-created set-up that had him thrown on death row for a crime he never actually committed. Thanks to his brother, Lincoln escapes and goes on the run, eventually clearing his name. But peace doesn’t last long, and before he knows it, the roles are reversed and now he has to help break his brother out of a prison in Panama. (note: this will be a more detailed description once I catch up; I’ve not finished Season 3)
tag: #verse: an innocent man running (main)
Life Heading In A Questionable Direction - Pre Series Verse
With a mostly absent father and a mother who passed away early on, Lincoln spent most of his childhood trying to protect his younger brother, going to extreme lengths to make sure the other received a good education and got a better life than the one he had grown up in. He couldn’t always be there in the flesh for his brother, and as years passed he slipped in and out of poverty and drug addiction, which only intensified when he borrowed the massive amounts of money needed to send Michael to school. He lives life day to day, falling in and out of relationships, making mistakes, doing the right thing, and repeating the exhausting cycle all over again. And then things get ugly.
tag: #verse: someone show me a sign that i’m more than my demons (pre series)
High On Youth, Living Like Life Is Forfeit - Childhood/Teenage Years
Lincoln never had much critical thinking skills, even growing up; he would set his mind on the outcome he wanted and throw himself at the first solution that presented itself, no matter how dangerous or impractical it might have been. It only grew worse as he grew older: when one of the foster kids he was staying with suggested booze and drugs as a fix-it for the depression he had fallen into after his mother’s death, Lincoln leapt at the chance. It helped in the short-term, but in the long term… not so much. But it kept him from attempting to end it all, and thus gave him enough drive to live semi-normally outside of it: protecting his younger brother to the best of his ability and even going into a relationship for a little while with a childhood friend. But youth doesn’t last, and bad choices have consequences.
tag: #verse: and you know that i’m growing up sad (childhood)
Neurotic To The Bone - Psychopath AU
Lincoln was born just a little off. Not enough for it to be seen as an overly important thing to discuss, so his quirks and lapses in emotion were largely ignored. Shortly after his father abandoned him and his brother, Lincoln began to grow more intense: not always noticeably, some things controlled behind a carefully crafted facade. Outbursts of violence, unhealthy obsessions, stretches of blank apathy that shifted into wild emotions at the drop of a hat… and more than once, those symptoms and more leading to vicious assault if not the deaths of others.
tag: #verse: counting my sins and giving in (psychopath)
The Darkness Caged Inside - Serial Killer AU
Maybe it was the use of drugs at a fairly young age. Maybe it was the boiling fury that came with losing both parents; one from neglect, the other to death. Whatever the reason, Lincoln was a fairly normal child but once he hit the teenage years, everything began to spiral downhill. Filled with rage and frustration and pure unadulterated bitterness, Lincoln tends to be more or less in charge of his mind. He can resist the urges - most of the time. But bottling up the negative feelings only lasts so long before he explodes and has to release it in a very violent manner. He feels no remorse for the deaths: not the ones enacted in blind fury, and not the ones enacted simply because he decided he didn’t like the person or they posed a threat to something or someone he held dear. Killing is a coping mechanism. So are the drugs. When it’s that or suicide and leaving the few people you love behind, well… surely those are the better options. Right?
tag: #verse: some sweet violent urge; a weak fallen man with the promise of an end (serial killer)
Heaving Through Corrupted Lungs - Drug Addiction
When Lincoln was fairly young, the foster kids of the family he was staying with found out about his depression and told him they could fix it. They took him out for booze and drugs, and it helped dull his mind. He tried to turn it down the next few times, but they always persisted, and a part of him wanted the blessed relief from his thoughts. So he would say yes. Before long, it bacme a habit. Then an addiction. And with each passing day, the more reckless and less manageable he became, being passed from foster family to foster family as each one realised they didn’t know how to deal with him. For years afterward, he fell into a vicious cycle: he would go off the drugs, go through withdrawals, get clean, try to make something of himself for a time, and then fall straight back into it again, never able to stay away for long, desperate for some sort of relief from the weight of life.
tag: #verse: my veins are busy but my heart’s in atrophy (addiction)
This Hell You Put Me In; This Devil Within - Lucifer AU
While on the run from the feds, desperate and afraid, Lincoln Burrows was gunned down. On the brink of death, a being came to him, and struck a deal: they needed a new vessel, Lincoln had a family to protect. In return for his soul and his body, Lucifer - for this was Lucifer - promised to let him stay more or less ‘alive’, to protect his brother and his son. Desperate and struggling through his last breaths, Lincoln agreed to the terms. Now he shares his body - and usuually most of his mind - with Lucifer himself, serving as a vessel for the being that made a deal he couldn’t refuse.
tag: #verse: let us walk on stained glass; sinners one and sinners all (lucifer)
I Was Walking With A Ghost - Ghost Michael AU (currently exclusive with @ofanescapist)
Many things in life had caused Lincoln immense pain and grief; the death of his mother was one such thing, one of the more intense. But nothing, nothing at all, could compare to losing his younger brother. For the first few months after the funeral, Lincoln sinks into despair and depression, going back to the solace of drugs and alcohol before fighting his way back out of that chasm again to try and move on with life. And then he finds out that Michael isn’t quite gone: not completely.
tag: #verse: talking to your ghost all day; hoping in the same old way… have you really gone? (ghost michael)
#verses#Misc: the man undercover (ooc)#verse: an innocent man running (main)#verse: someone show me a sign that i’m more than my demons (pre series)#verse: and you know that i’m growing up sad (childhood)#verse: counting my sins and giving in (psychopath)#verse: some sweet violent urge; a weak fallen man with the promise of an end (serial killer)#verse: my veins are busy but my heart's in atrophy (addiction)#verse: let us walk on stained glass; sinners one and sinners all (lucifer)#verse: talking to your ghost all day; hoping in the same old way… have you really gone? (ghost michael)
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A Ranger’s Tale - 2 - Next Morning
Story and all other character by @rollem-bones. As mentioned last time, the log has a mix of 1st/3rd person tenses due to play styles.
Our story continues...
Comfortable sleep, on a bedroll in the wood, ends with a sound and a voice at the end of it. "We're moving on. The rain's passed. You traveling with us, you help bundle it up," Salicia says with a chipper tone, somewhat teasing, like you were one of the group in her way. The light hazing of the newbie, rather than harsh demands.
Rhodie snaps awake, flailing lightly, and then looking around. Not her room. Checking hands, still furry, still a muzzle visible. "It wasn't just a weird dream. Well... Ok then." She rubs at her eyes, letting out a toothy yawn. "Right, bundling up, give me a sec to fully return to the world of the living."
While you remain bundled, your newfound compatriots in the Antler and Thorn pack up around you. The tent is lifted, rolled, sticks bundled into a pack. Each one carries their own shelter on their backs. Sgt. Donnel, Pritchard, Salicia, all brush over the fire spot. Donnel turning to mark a tree with an old knife. "Tell the layabout to rouse," the older demihuman canine says, "We got ground to cover."
Rhodie leans forward on her hands and knees, giving a good dog-like stretch, then pauses to look at how she's wound up posed. "...that's... new. When did I start doing that?" She shakes her head, deciding to worry about that later, then starts to roll up her bedroll and help tear down where she can. "I'm up, I'm up!" She hasn't been camping in a while, but she does remember some basics from when she used to go with her family in the summer. Shouldn't be TOO different a tear down procedure, right?
You help, and there's only a little eye rolling from Donnel. "Okay, we're pushing northward, stopping at the runic stones for Pritchard to do his seeing, and then on Woban's Lake. Before we left, heard tales from some logger's given permission that a few poachers were taking the Meister's fish," he instructs. "You, gel," he says, pointing at you. "What good are you to us?"
Rhodie recoils a little from Donnel. "Assuming 'gel' is not a term of endearment. Well, my dad was very fond of fishing when I was growing up, so I know my way around a boat. Both with and without motor. Can be very talkative and distracting when the need arises. So..ah.. I guess if you needed to keep someone busy and focussed on something other than what you were doing, I'd be your guy."
Donnel rolls his eyes and shoulders his pack. "Follow on, you can carry Salicia's pack since you slept in her bed," he says, starting onward. "It just another way of saying girl," Pritchard informs quietly. "But if you don't mind explaining to me what a motor is?"
Rhodie gives a salute, it's kind of crappy, but she's also nervous! "Yes, sir!" She goes to shoulder Salicia's pack, wobbling a bit, forgetting she's in a smaller frame, and her center of gravity has changed. She maintains her balance thankfully. "Gyah.. I'm good, i'm good, didn't just almost eat dirt there. Hmm?" She looks over at Pritchard. "Oh, ah, sort of a mechanical device used to propel an object. In the case of a boat, it has a propeller that will push the boat forward, and can be steered to guide its path."
Salicia is a broad girl and laughs at your teetering. She reaches to reclaim the pack off your narrow shoulders. "Easy there, dear, lemme carry that thing. We'll find something for you to do," she assures you with a pat on the shoulder. "They always say a demihuman's got the good senses and swifter feet for scouting. Think you can keep attention up? Donnel's getting on in age, he may need the help." the woman suggests, starting to walk. From up ahead comes a harrumphing, "I am not!"
Rhodie blushes as the pack is removed, but nods all the same. "Right. Well, I do feel, this is gonna probably sound odd, a bit more energetic than usual? This body feels a bit springier than I normally do, like... an urge to run a lot. And my senses are definitely a lot better than before, which is both kinda cool and really kinda freaky cause the smells are AMAZING."
Pritchard holds his hand over the firepit. A wave and whisper and rain falls from just beneath his hand to soak the ashes. "It is fascinating to hear the descriptions," he admits, "Perhaps you can explain the differences after you've walked a day in new shoes, as it were." Salicia hums to herself. "You ever hold a sword? Use a bow before?" she asks, looking at you with a surprising amount of seriousness on the woman that's been very caring this whole time.
Rhodie watches Pritchard, tail wagging as she stares in awe at the display of magic. That is WAY too cool. "Ah, yeah, well, I'm sure I'll have plenty of differences as time goes on." She looks herself over, and frowns. "Nothing about me looks the same." Her tail droops some. She looks at Salicia, "..Ah.. bow? No, not since I was a little kid at a summer camp. Sword, some. I've been taking lessons to help out a friend who runs an event at a local festival each spring. Far from an expert, but I'm trying"
"If it helps any," Pritchard says, walking back past you, "We've had as much time to see you for how you look as you have, and so far none of us have found any objections." Salicia scoffs at the words, but does smile. "Here," she says, offering a small knife. "Won't do you much good in a fight, but you won't hurt yourself unless you're a real idjit," she says. "When we get to the stones, I'll show you how to really loose an arrow."
"I..." Rhodie is quite obviously taken by surprise, and is very fortunate she is already red furred to hide reaction. Did he just hit on her. "Thank you? I...kinda... have a few.." she says, well, more mumbles the last part as she hangs her head. Salicia snaps her out of it though as she carefully takes the knife. "No mad flailing, pointy bit at the person I want to hurt." She carefully stores the knife where she can get to it if needed as she walks with the trio. "You all have been awfully accepting about all this, not that I'm complaining, cause I do appreciate it."
"Good enough," Salicia says. "And why wouldn't we be? You're a lost girl in the woods, completely starkers. The Order of Antler and Thorn is not known for being cruel." She laughs at your confusion, marching along easily lugging the pack that almost tipped you. "Is there any part of this that we shouldn't have been accepting of?" Pritchard asks.
Oof, Rhodie winces at Salicia's comment. The anxiety high of the last day or so is finally starting to wear off, and the weight of what's happened is finally starting to sink in. "Well...just... Pritchard said he could tell I wasn't from here, a Wanderer was it? But like.. don't suppose what you sensed told you anything about WHY I wound up here? ...or a demi irish setter.. or a girl..."
"It's true," Pritchard says, "But it's not a sense that works like your eyes or nose. I cannot see the details, nor smell the properties. It is more like, the feeling of being upside-down, or if something is near you. A sensation, an awareness." He looks at you and shakes his head. "We can only speculate, and while I would love to do so, I feel it may bore my compatriots."
Rhodie nods, thinking. "I think that makes sense, yeah. I suspect you describing your abilities and senses is going to be like me anytime I describe something from my world, heh. Just.. thanks. I'll do what I can to help pull my share of the weight as long as I'm stuck here, just... thank you for not leaving me by myself. I think I'd be having a nervous breakdown alone."
"Good to know you're willing to try," Salicia says with a laugh. "And that belt I gave you to tie your tunic, it'll hold that blade." The walk goes on, Donnel is fairly far ahead, taking the lead. "Don't let the old sod get to you," Salicia says, "He's just a grumpy one. Too serious for his own good."
"Ah, thank you!" She adjusts the blade to the belt. "Yeah, that seems to be working better already." She looks up ahead at Donnel, and cocks her head slightly. "Can't really fault him for being grumpy. Naked demi shows up out of nowhere, takes clothes from his friend, now traveling along side the party like a literal lost puppy... Kiiinda has a right to be annoyed. You three been working together for a while then?"
"Learned from him when I wasn't much older than you," Salicia says. "Been going on seven or eight years now. Know these woods only half as much as he does." She looks over to Pritchard. He takes a moment to realize that's his cue to talk to you, slowing down to walk alongside. "I have been with them for a few seasons yet. I'm neither a student nor the master. I'm just a specialist."
"You're doing all that neat magic stuff and you're not even the master specialist?" She lets out an impressed whistle, "So, needless to say, my world, really tech based, no magic like what you're doing. Just technology sufficiently advanced it can be indistinguishable from magic."
"Earlier?" Pritchard asks, "Oh, the rain and embers. I'm glad you find such simple utility castings to be so wondrous." He has a small, slightly shy smile at that. "Technology is a magic all its own. I've seen some fascinating things in Evenbow." Salicia butts in. "Pritchard's the only caster here, journeyman, no apprentice, don't let his humility fool you."
Rhodie laughs, "Man, there are people back home that do nothing but fantasize about doing the stuff you're calling utility castings." She looks at her hand paw, "Or being like this, come to think of it." She shakes her head and looks back to Salicia. "What about you, what's your field of expertise?"
Salicia cracks a grin. "I can use a blade, a sword, hunt and track and set camp. I can dress game and harvest in the wild. Much the same as Donnel over there. Been in a few scrapes in my time, too," she says with no shortage of pride. "I earned the gamesmaster title I have."
Rhodie's tail begins to wag. Tracking.. why does that sound a lot of fun all of a sudden? "That's really cool. And this Meister of your's hired all 3 of you on to keep the lands safe and drive off folks looking to cause trouble and ruin it?"
"He supplies the Order, the Order does as it should for Meister Silberschmidt," Pritchard explains. Salicia fields the second portion. "He owns these lands, wants them for his hunts, his fishing, his game for when he entertains. If a visiting guildmaster or noble or wealthy merchant comes through, the meister wants to take them on a hunt. To make sure it succeeds, he'll need to know the directions to go."
The setter-girl nods, listening and taking it all in. "OK guy? Someone I should be worried about if and when we cross paths? Be on my best behavior or wind up in a ditch?"
"I don't find him a trouble," Pritchard says. "An honest man, a talented craftsman. He did fine work on this." He shows a small trinket that appears to be finely polished deer antler with whorls and caps of silver on the tips. "A focus, a tool of my craft, if you don't understand."
She tilts her head curiously, and then her canine side gets the better of her as she leans closer to sniff at the antler. Rhodie seems to realize what she's doing, and immediately pulls back, "Ah, sorrysorry! Didn't mean to get up in your space like that so suddenly.. Not sure what came over me there." She bites her bottom lip.
It smells like Pritchard. He's had it longer than the deer it came from did. "It's no bother. You're curious," Pritchard says, slipping the charm back into a velvet bag at his hip. "Silberschmidt made it from his own antler. He sheds them every few seasons, so I suspect it isn't much of a loss of his. And I'm no practitioner of blood casting."
"His own antler though, huh? OK, so a demi of some sort himself. Cool." Rhodie ponders, "Blood cast-Oh, like... using something that was part of someone to work magic on them I assume?" She grimaces a bit at that thought.
"A stag," Salicia says. "Biggun, too. Oh," she pauses and looks at you, and then at Pritchard. The two look at each other, seeming to try to find what the other is thinking. "You have animals that look like demihumans, too?" Pritchard asks. "In the place you came from?"
"Humans are the only ones really walking, talking, and running society. Most other animals are... well... just that, animals. Dogs walk around on all fours, don't talk beyond barks. We don't really have a way to communicate with them outside of teaching ones capable of learning it basic sign language." She motions to herself, "Someone that looks like I do? Only exists in stories, fiction, people in costumes, or art.. lotta art." She frowns, "Ah.. I'm gonna have some angry commissioners when I get back home... if I do."
"Do you have the other apes?" Pritchard asks. "Look like humans, hairier than most, smaller, tend towards humid climes?" He looks curious, even if little emotion seems to betray the grey haired young man. "Commissioners? You some sort of artisan?" Salicia asks.
Rhodie nods, "Yeah, apes, gorillas, monkeys, lemurs, primates of all kinds. Gorillas are the ones we've managed to teach basic sign language to. I'm kinda suspecting that our worlds might have some crossover in terms of similar animals. Just maybe here they're more on equal footing with humans?" She rubs the back of her head, a bit self-conscious as she responds to Salicia. "I do some freelance drawing for folks. Mostly characters they've made up for games or stories, or how they wish they looked. It doesn't pay all the bills, but it helps offset from my normal work."
"In a sense," Pritchard says with a nod. "You will find little concern held between demihuman and their more primitive counterparts. Much in the same I'm certain you would care deeply for any one of those apes or monkeys." Salicia seems in thought for a moment. "How's your hand at sketching what you see into a journal?"
"Oh right, Salicia was saying I reminded her of a setter she once had." Primitive counterparts, so there might go her curiosity if she could understand a dog here or not. She smiles at Salicia, "S'how I got started. My color work isn't as good as when I do it digitally... ah.. different tech medium, more than likely not on your world yet... but I do a lot of nice black and white sketch work for people at events when I travel."
"What if we aren't looking for pretty art, but good and real. Something you could find your way by?" Salicia asks, arms crossing as she's thinking now. "Donnel! The girl says she can draw and write," she calls out. "And given her legs and senses, I think we got ourselves a bona fide scout in the making here."
Rhodie tilts her her head again. "You mean, like make a map with some visual points of reference?" She thinks and shrugs, "Yeah, I could do that. I used to make maps for for some of the games my friends and I would run back in school."
"What's that?" Donnel asks, stopping and finally waiting for you and the others to get up to him. His mustache fluff dances as he looks at you. His eyes sharp and dark. His brow furrowed. "You can scout?" He thumbs behind him. "Parchment roll on my pack, you open it up and take the charcoal in there and a piece of parchment. Up ahead is a set of three stones. I want you to get there and back, draw what you see and come back here. We'll wait."
Rhodie barks "Y-yes, sir!" She goes to retrieve the parchment and charcoal. Now is not really the time to say she works better with pencils really. "Three stones... three stone. Got it. Be back shortly!" She gives a small wave to Salencia and Pritchard and starts to run ahead."
You dash ahead. It's hard to not notice your paws make it easy to clear ground quickly. You're lightweight, spry, and slim. It's easy to dash forward and around trees, over roots and rocks. Over toward a clearly. You slow down, stop, and look ahead to see three standing stones with deep carving whorls and designs in them. They're intricate, this was probably Donnel's test in all this. So you sit, cross legged is surprisingly easy, and sketch. For a moment, it's easy to forget you're a young woman, semi dog shaped, and draw like you've always done with the piece of charcoal given to you. You end with a detailed sketch of the stones and the marks on them, with a few extra pieces showing noticeable trees and marks on the way. Curiously, you find a few notes about scents and sounds in the area. This kind of scouting seems near natural to you as you dash your way back to the trio still waiting among the trees for you to return.
Rhodie is tempted to stay and sniff out all the new scents, but she has a job to do. Having a set task seems to helps her stay focussed, she thinks she recalls setters working well with tasks, maybe that's it? As Rhodie runs back, she can't help but feel a thrill of exhilaration as she runs. Her fur flowing around her, it feels.. oddly natural? She's never felt this good about running before, but right now she feels like she could run for hours and still enjoy herself.
After some time with the parchment, Donnell nods. "You're good. Damn good, gel," he tells you. "May find use for you yet." He rolls the paper up and reaches behind him to slip it into the tube. "Let's get going to these stones. Pritchard has his thing to do," he says, starting on again. "That was about the best compliment you'll get out of him, dear," Salicia tells you with a smile, clapping a calloused hand on your shoulder.
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10 Book Recommendations for Earth Day (2017)
I’m doing something special because today is Earth Day and I can’t attend March for Science. As you may or may not know, I’m working toward a degree in Marine Science with a minor in Biology and focuses in Conservation and Ecology. The big thing I want to do with my knowledge is to help coral around the world, whether it’s to help build or protect more reefs, get into aquaculture, or educate people at aquariums. There’s a lot of information being thrown around by everyone and their mother about whether or not climate change exists or opinions on conversation in general. A lot of ecofriendly or eco-conscious people want to help but don’t know what to do, where to start, or who to listen to. Below I have listed a bunch of books by environmentalists, conservationists, and other people of science so that you may be able to get a sense for yourself as to what to believe and do. (Sorry in advance if the pictures are in poor quality)
1. Silent Spring by Rachel Carson
Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring was first published in three serialized excerpts in the New Yorker in June of 1962. The book appeared in September of that year and the outcry that followed its publication forced the banning of DDT and spurred revolutionary changes in the laws affecting our air, land, and water. Carson’s passionate concern for the future of our planet reverberated powerfully throughout the world, and her eloquent book was instrumental in launching the environmental movement. (Goodreads)
Basically she wrote about the effects of DDT on birds through biomagnification. DDT was a chemical that never dissolved or removed as waste from the bodies of organisms, once consumed it stuck with the organism even after death. Biomagnification is when something like a chemical increases in concentration as it moves up the food chain, getting to its highest concentration in top predators in an environment. DDT really affected the birds at the top of the food chain like eagles and pelicans, weakening the egg shells to the point of fracturing, leading to drastic population declines for many birds, including the Bald Eagle.
2. The Sea Around Us by Rachel Carson
This book is basically Carson’s way of introducing the ocean to the general audience and familiarizing them with a lot of the processes that make it function and the unique creatures found there. I really want to read this book, if I can ever get my hands on it!
3. The Lorax by Dr. Seuss
"UNLESS someone like you...cares a whole awful lot...nothing is going to get better...It's not." Long before saving the earth became a global concern, Dr. Seuss, speaking through his character the Lorax, warned against mindless progress and the danger it posed to the earth's natural beauty. (Goodreads)
This book gets mixed reviews, even within the science community. I’ve still added it to this list because my conservation ecology professor talked about it in class some a few times. It’s a good example for the tragedy of the commons and the effects of overharvesting. Many people claim that no human would ever let something like this happen, that they would eventually stop but history has proven otherwise. Real life examples including the extinction of the Dodo and the Steller Sea Cow, and the fall of Easter Island where many species of plant life native only to that island were lost due to overharvesting.
4. Walden by Henry David Thoreau
Walden, or, Life in the Woods, is an American book written by noted transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau. The work is part personal declaration of independence, social experiment, voyage of spiritual discovery, satire, and manual for self-reliance. Published in 1854, it details Thoreau's experiences over the course of two years in a cabin he built near Walden Pond, amid woodland owned by his friend and mentor Ralph Waldo Emerson, near Concord, Massachusetts. (Goodreads)
Thoreau believed that nature should be preserved because it was man’s closest link to God. He thought that humans needed nature to have a better spiritual connection. He was also one of the earliest natural historians and Walden was the most detailed account, at the time, about the nature of an area and how it changed over time.
5. The Diversity of Life by Edward O. Wilson
In this book a master scientist tells the story of how life on earth evolved. Edward O. Wilson eloquently describes how the species of the world became diverse and why that diversity is threatened today as never before. A great spasm of extinction — the disappearance of whole species — is occurring now, caused this time entirely by humans. Unlike the deterioration of the physical environment, which can be halted, the loss of biodiversity is a far more complex problem — and it is irreversible. Defining a new environmental ethic, Wilson explains why we must rescue whole ecosystems, not only individual species. He calls for an end to conservation versus development arguments, and he outlines the massive shift in priorities needed to address this challenge. No writer, no scientist, is more qualified than Edward O. Wilson to describe, as he does here, the grandeur of evolution and what is at stake. (Goodreads)
If you’re interested in a detailed account on evolution and species diversity then this book may be interesting to you and intriguing. Species diversity is extremely important to the environment and is threatened by many things including climate change and anthropogenic actions. It’s also interesting to read about the argument to save the whole environment in which a species lives and not just that species, which is a concept that is really being pushed today in conservation.
6. Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv
"I like to play indoors better 'cause that's where all the electrical outlets are," reports a fourth-grader. Never before in history have children been so plugged in—and so out of touch with the natural world. In this groundbreaking new work, child advocacy expert Richard Louv directly links the lack of nature in the lives of today's wired generation—he calls it nature deficit—to some of the most disturbing childhood trends, such as rises in obesity, Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), and depression.
Some startling facts: By the 1990s the radius around the home where children were allowed to roam on their own had shrunk to a ninth of what it had been in 1970. Today, average eight-year-olds are better able to identify cartoon characters than native species, such as beetles and oak trees, in their own community. The rate at which doctors prescribe antidepressants to children has doubled in the last five years, and recent studies show that too much computer use spells trouble for the developing mind.
Nature-deficit disorder is not a medical condition; it is a description of the human costs of alienation from nature. This alienation damages children and shapes adults, families, and communities. There are solutions, though, and they're right in our own backyards. Last child in the Woods is the first book to bring together cutting-edge research showing that direct exposure to nature is essential for healthy childhood development—physical, emotional, and spiritual. What's more, nature is a potent therapy for depression, obesity, and ADD. Environment-based education dramatically improves standardized test scores and grade point averages and develops skills in problem solving, critical thinking, and decision making. Even creativity is stimulated by childhood experiences in nature.
Yet sending kids outside to play is increasingly difficult. Computers, television, and video games compete for their time, of course, but it's also our fears of traffic, strangers, even virus-carrying mosquitoes—fears the media exploit—that keep children indoors. Meanwhile, schools assign more and more homework, and there is less and less access to natural areas. (Goodreads)
We also discussed this book in class earlier in the semester. My professor thought it important to point out how closely tied to nature we are and that our lives can be greatly affected by its absence. It’s an interesting read for anyone who wants to see the connections between a decline in physical and mental health and the amount of time we spend outside.
7. Song of the Dodo by David Quammen
In The Song of the Dodo, we follow Quammen's keen intellect through the ideas, theories, and experiments of prominent naturalists of the last two centuries. We trail after him as he travels the world, tracking the subject of island biogeography, which encompasses nothing less than the study of the origin and extinction of all species. Why is this island idea so important? Because islands are where species most commonly go extinct -- and because, as Quammen points out, we live in an age when all of Earth's landscapes are being chopped into island-like fragments by human activity.
Through his eyes, we glimpse the nature of evolution and extinction, and in so doing come to understand the monumental diversity of our planet, and the importance of preserving its wild landscapes, animals, and plants. We also meet some fascinating human characters. By the book's end we are wiser, and more deeply concerned, but Quammen leaves us with a message of excitement and hope. (Goodreads)
Interesting read for anyone who wants to learn about the idea of Island Biogeography and extinction. An island isn’t necessarily a land mass surrounded by water, islands now can refer to any habitat that is surrounded by a completely different habitat. For instance, a small park in the middle of a city is considered an island, also lakes and mountain tops. The relation to the Dodo is that the bird went extinct rather quickly, before anyone could really record everything about it, after humans made contact with it. The Dodo went extinct because it could not leave the island and escape the new threat-humans.
8. The Edge of the Sea by Rachel Carson
"The edge of the sea is a strange & beautiful place." A book to be read for pleasure as well as a practical identification guide, The Edge of the Sea introduces a world of teeming life where the sea meets the land. Rachel Carson's books have become cornerstones of the environmental & conservation movements. (Goodreads)
Another book by Rachel Carson that talks about the various environments found within the ocean and the creatures that inhabit them. Interesting read for learning and species classification.
9. Plant Earth: As You’ve Never Seen it Before by Alastair Fothergill, Vanessa Berlowitz, Mark Brownlow, Huw Cordey, and Jonathan Keeling
A visual odyssey that will change the way we see our planet, this remarkable book, companion to the acclaimed Discovery Channel/ BBC series, is an enduring and awe-inspiring record of one of the most ambitious natural history projects ever undertaken. Using the latest aerial surveillance, state-of-the-art cameras, and high definition technology, the creators of Planet Earth have assembled more than 400 stunning photographs of wondrous natural landscapes from around the globe, including incredible footage of the rarely spotted, almost mythical creatures that live in these habitats. Many of the images reveal inaccessible places that few have seen and record animal behavior that has never been filmed or photographed before. With the help of this highly advanced technology and the world's premier wildlife photographers, the book takes us on a spectacular journey from the world's greatest rivers and impressive gorges, to its mightiest mountains, hidden caves and caverns, and vast deserts. Planet Earth captures breathtaking sequences of predators and their prey, lush vistas of forests viewed from the tops of towering trees, the oceans and their mysterious creatures viewed from beneath the surface, and much more—in a magnificent adventure that brings unknown wonders of the natural world into our living rooms. (Goodreads)
Pretty much if you like BBC’s Plant Earth series you’ll like this book. It’s full of pictures, detailed accounts, and bountiful information that you may find intriguing.
10. The Forest Unseen by David George Haskell
A biologist reveals the secret world hidden in a single square meter of forest. In this wholly original book, biologist David Haskell uses a one-square-meter patch of old-growth Tennessee forest as a window onto the entire natural world. Visiting it almost daily for one year to trace nature’s path through the seasons, he brings the forest and its inhabitants to vivid life. Each of this book’s short chapters begins with a simple observation: a salamander scuttling across the leaf litter; the first blossom of spring wildflowers. From these, Haskell spins a brilliant web of biology and ecology, explaining the science that binds together the tiniest microbes and the largest mammals and describing the ecosystems that have cycled for thousands—sometimes millions—of years. Each visit to the forest presents a nature story in miniature as Haskell elegantly teases out the intricate relationships that order the creatures and plants that call it home. (Goodreads)
A book similar to Walden, it’s another natural account of an environment for a whole year. Interesting to anyone who enjoys short stories, liked Walden, or is fascinated by nature and how it changes over time.
#booklr#science#books#Book Recommendations#Earth Day#march for science#rachel carson#silent spring#the edge of the sea#the sea around us#the diversity of life#the lorax
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Fifty-Four Years Doesn’t Seem Like That Long: What I Absorbed In the Past 365 Days
By Don Hall
Every birthday since I was in eighth grade, I have spent some going through the year I just ended and looked for the lessons it held for me. Today, I turn to page fifty-four in the Book, so here are the lessons of Year 54. I recognize first, that a few of these lessons have been lessons learned over and over for years and second, that some lessons are contradictory with others. Such is the road I travel and it’s a fair guess we all travel.
Year 54 was a trip. As in, literally a trip to the desert. After thirty years in Chicago, Dana and I packed our shit, hopped in vehicles, and traveled 2,000 miles west to up end our lives and forge new territory. It was a year of jumping of a cliff. It was year of lotsa moving. It was a year of lessons.
As I started Year 54, I was living in a bedroom in Humboldt Park in the home of the guy we were moving with to Vegas. We had already gone there and found a house. We had an arrangement to help him move his ridiculous mountain of stuff, he would pay for the move, and we’d take on a portion of the mortgage as co-owners once we settled.
LESSON #1: There’s No Such Thing As Free.
Yes, we agreed to the move. It was much less expensive to get our home across the country in exchange for labor and the agreement to share a home. We had no idea how much labor would be involved and how little input we would have concerning living arrangements.
There were the flags of crimson that popped up.
For Christmas, he wanted a tree. He and Dana went to Home Depot (a place of almost religious fervor for him) and, in her impatience as he limped through the aisles looking for random tools and containers to impulse buy, she grabbed a tree, paid for it, and took it out to his truck. He was so upset that it wasn’t exactly the tree he wanted, he pouted like a child for three days. He didn’t decorate with us. When we went to Kansas, he took the tree down almost immediately and, in the process, haphazardly combined all of our legacy and family ornaments into a box that went rogue by the time we arrived in Vegas a month later. Grown men don’t act like this, I thought, but we were already in for a pound.
When he flew to Nevada and Dana and Kelli (his long-time roommate) drove his truck out there, I was left to get all of his stuff and our stuff on the moving truck and clean his now sold home spotless. He woefully underestimated the amount of shit he had to move and, as a result, I had to drop a grand to make sure the moving company didn’t just drop all of it off in an alley.
Combining this with the very trappings of Las Vegas where every offer of free play is merely an invitation to get hooked on the buzz of slots and spend your kid’s leukemia money, the idea that anything is free is just silly. Everything in life has fine print somewhere and, baby, you get exactly what you pay for. The delusion of free feels nice until the hidden bill comes.
✶
Once in Vegas, I had set up a number of interviews and meetings in order to land some quality money-making gigs. I interviewed at the MGM Grand, Caesar’s Palace, the UFC, the Make-A-Wish Foundation. I had meetings with KNPR, UNLV, and The Black Mountain Institute. I had all the expectation that my Chicago street cred would get me into the places I was looking at.
LESSON #2: High Expectations Amount to Big Disappointments.
It turned out that while I was well-received, no one would hire me. It took me a bit to figure out that my Chicago experience didn’t really translate well to this new area and that my decade with public radio basically made me too expensive for the more academic crowd.
When I finally figured out that freelancing events in Vegas was far more daunting than my high expectations warranted (EX: In Chicago, an Events Representative was a job that entailed, you know, working on events. In Vegas, an Events Representative is the guy holding a spinning sign outside a business) I started looking for just about any gig that paid.
LESSON #3: Ego Is the Fucking Worst Baggage You’ll Carry.
Starting over from scratch is the bargain we made but my perception of myself was from my thirty years in Chicago. Here, while I had no bridges burned I also had no reputation of any kind and it was a struggle to reconcile these things. At this point the most difficult challenge was to ignore my ego and sack up. There were a few days when I couldn’t get past the reality that these fucking people didn’t know who I was. The ego developed over thirty years in the Chi was a bitch to ditch. I had to accept the reality that starting over was exactly that.
Dana landed a job at a casino bowling alley that was far beneath her perceived value. I bounced from working as a window sales rep
LESSON #4: Any Job That Requires You Wear a Lime Green Polo Shirt is Bullshit.
and quit after three weeks. I found a job at a high-end hat store in the Venetian (part time) and settled in a bit.
Backing at the Hoarder Ranch (later to known as Trash Island) our Christmas Tree Pouter was in full swing. He often slept during the day in the living room and would go out to the shed he built to work on random projects in the middle of the night. As Dana and I opted to move into the tiny box one-bedroom converted garage to have some privacy and some escape, he loitered around, demanding attention, and trying to pay us to go out and get him cigarettes and Mountain Dew.
LESSON #5: A Transactional Relationship Will Always Be Transactional.
LESSON #6: Jumping Off a Cliff Is Only Scary the Moment Before You Jump. The Rest Is Simply Navigation.
It’s sort of that Hannibal thing where you burn the bridges behind you so there’s only the forward road to take. Once you’re committed to the journey, the only real choices are figuring out how you land. The number of times I went back to re-examine our choices leading up to moving was staggering — late nights as Dana slept peacefully in the crummy bedroom and I sat in my robe at a desk in the next room wondering “What the fuck have I done? What am I supposed to do now?” It reminded me of both my divorces and the final break up with Alice in that, in the absence of the malicious relationship that had defined my every waking moment, I longed for more of it to cover me up in a soiled, stinking blanket. Familiarity, regardless of the quality of it, is a salve to uncertainty.
The first four months were peppered with whole days seeped in self doubt. Spending two weeks with nothing more than $1.42 in my bank account. Looking at my Prius and begging whatever arcane gods exist that it last just a few more days. Putting on the optimistic pose for Dana as her naturally pessimistic outlook felt like that moment driving in the dark when you seriously ponder the possibility of just turning off the headlights and gunning the accelerator and crashing yourself on the rocks of “At least I get to control this outcome.”
Leaving Chicago was a divorce. A disengaging with the reality that, in a life of not truly fitting in with any crowd, I no longer fit in with an entire city.
✶
In the face of the fact that my resume and reputation from Chicago meant fuckall to employers in Vegas, I applied to a host of places—restaurant management positions, public school positions, retail, and briefly flirted with Uber and Lyft. A Days Inn attached to a small casino called about interviewing for an Assistant Hotel Manager gig. I went in. The Manager and I talked. I was comfortable enough at the Hat Shop so the prospect of working at a hotel off the strip was mostly about making more dough. The next day, I was asked to come in again. This Director told me flat out he thought I was all wrong for the hotel but had I considered casino management?
One more interview with the General Manager and I was offered an opportunity. Operations Manager of a casino in Las Vegas. Entry level pay but, given my utter absence of any experience in a casino, it felt like being noticed. I mean, in Vegas, casino is the primary business so getting in on that at 53 years old was very intriguing. Certainly a tiny, dive bar version of a casino but complete with slot machines, a bar, and a Sportsbook, this felt as if I was going to Casino College. I left the Hat Shop the next day.
LESSON #7: Take the Job That Seems the Most Interesting Because All Jobs Are Just Jobs But Interesting Jobs Have the Most To Give.
While I started at the Wild Wild West and a modest income started flowing in, Dana decided she’d had all she could stand at the bowling alley (she simply has no patience for bad managers). We also decided to move (again) to remove ourselves from Trash Island, the increasingly hostile (now) landlord (who, in a fit of pique, turned off our internet), and the east side of Las Vegas (a place Dana described as “the ass end of broke dick.”).
Framing the casino management gig as both a means to learn this business and make some cash doing it and the makings of a really fun book about this sub-sub-set of casino life made it an easy choice to make. Jump into the dingy pond of the West and drink heartily from its possibilities.
LESSON #8: While Still Just Stuff, Your Own Stuff Provides Stability and Comfort.
Finding an apartment was surprisingly easy. The place was small but far larger than the garage we’d grown accustomed to and the complex had two swimming pools and much closer proximity to my work and humanity. The move was a bit fraught as I was hellbent to get as far away from the Crippled Dick (who stood by as we packed our things into a rented U-Haul with a pistol on his hip as if we suddenly represented a threat).
In no time, we were surrounded by furniture and things we brought from Chicago — our stuff. As we expanded into our new digs, the feeling of having finally arrived in Vegas started to creep in and the freedom of making our own way dawned.
Back in the days before the move but after the ignoble dismissal from the public radio sphere vocationally, I decided that working for myself was the thing. I worked that freelance dance with gusto. Sure, I was taken advantage of by major Chicago institutions (Chicago History Museum, anyone?) and found that getting paid was like extracting teeth but I leapt into it.
Freelancing in a new city with a completely different definition of events proved more daunting.
LESSON #9: Freelancing is Three Times as Much Work as Working for the Man
I love the seeming freedom of freelance work. Getting up when you want to, working often from home, the sense of the hustle. Were I single, it might be exactly how I’d pursue the day but I’m not. I have a larger responsibility to a partnership and providing regular money at regular intervals is a part of the bargain. A more selfish me would leap into the almost non-existent LiveLit scene and forge what I had forged in Chicago and there is a bit of a siren song to gravitate to that lifestyle.
Turns out that I prefer working with a definite paycheck, easily deposited in my bank account every two weeks, than the fucking scramble to achieve financial freedom on a twenty-four hour basis. It’s good to have those freelance skills but it’s also good to be able to relax into a day job. Dana thought she was looking for a day job and discovered she prefers freelance.
The best lesson is that no matter how broke you are, no matter how destitute you might flirt on the edge with, there is almost always a way through unless you simply give up. If I decided tomorrow to quit the gig in the casino, devote my golden years to writing the Great American Novel or caring for the homeless, I would find a way to feed myself, provide a roof over my head, and carry on. Dana is an amazing partner and we got this.
LESSON #10: No Matter How Broke You Are, There is Almost Always a Way Through Unless You Simply Give Up.
In addition to my own experience, I learned and re-learned this from the patrons of the casino. Sure, there are plenty of compulsive gamblers on property and it is my job to make sure their experience is positive. There are far more who have really lived some life and continue to get up, go to work, then come and have a few drinks and try their hand at some potential winnings. Gambling is all about hope — hope that it’s your day to hit the jackpot, hope that that next hand is the one to create the windfall, hope that you can be a winner.
Giving up is an absence of hope. I’m fucking surrounded by hope tinted with despair every day now.
The “training” I received for the management gig was completely half-assed. More of a Here are a Few Things You Have to Know, Don’t Do This No Matter What, Now GO!! This approach is a bit teetery, especially considering that I’m dealing with incredible complex Nevada Gaming Laws and the constant presence of surveillance cameras. Fuck up and you’re fired and we’re watching you all the time.
✶
LESSON #11: Online Friends Are Rarely your Actual Friends.
I’ve known this for a long time now but it didn’t really land until this year.
At one point in the second half of the year, I realized that Facebook was becoming more burden than tool. So I unfriended over 4,000 people (most of whom I had never met) and kept about 500 who I could pick out in a line-up. I did it in an impulse at the poolside of the Stratosphere on a 112-degree day. I could barely see the screen on my iPhone as the sun was so incredibly bright.
The first bit of impact was that all of a sudden I was seeing posts from people I knew but had not heard from in a long time. The glut of too many strangers was clogging up the view; the overshare of thousands of voices was too loud to allow those smaller moments of “Ah! He has a kid now!” and “Whoa! She’s a conservative?”
The second occurred as I culled the list. The number of people whom I saw as friends wasn’t honest. I harbored great resentment toward those whom rode that social fence and watched as I was bullied and flamed by assholes in Chicago so I erased them from my online roll call. The climate of high partisan morality meant that there were a few whom I have genuine affection for but whom I cannot have a rational online discussion (Jesus. That’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one!) so I eliminated them but with the quick message explaining that I cared too much for them as a person to continue to be present for their online daily performative diary.
The tool of Social Media is now a bit more manageable and a bit less present.
✶
Based on lessons of the past, I really dug into my previous assertion to be less Kirk, more Spock. As a younger man, I was a whole buncha angry and reactionary. I sought fairness and achievement. My social capital was extremely important (even into my fifties this was true). I feel as if I’ve been getting closer to some sort of line in the sand to cross over, one side that signals me as Strident Idealist, the other that holds the trappings of Optimistic Pragmatist. I have been the former, I’m becoming the latter.
It all boils down in the sauce pan to the rue of choice.
LESSON #12: Your Emotional State, Just Like Your Life Circumstances, Just Like What You Have for Lunch, Is a Choice.
If I’m angry and aggrieved, I chose to be that. If I am filled with anxiety—over my past, over the news, over money — I must want to be anxious because I chose it.
At fifty-four, I hope wisdom comes in making better choices both minuscule and epic in scale.
By the time I hit the Fall of 2019, things were groovin’. Dana was finding freelance gigs and it turns out, I’m damn good at casino management. And, oh my gawd, the stories!
LESSON #13: Every Person You Encounter Is a Story. Pay Attention and the Mysteries of the Universe Will Unfold.
I don’t know how long my tenure at the Wild Wild West will be. Las Vegas is a city of hustle and transience and the act of moving from one experience to the next is embedded in the DNA of every business, every venue, every stretch of road. It is also a place of a truly American mise-en-scéne. The casino is the Melting Pot writ large in bygone times. Rich, poor, men, women, heterosexual and homo, black, white, foreign and domestic, Left, Right, and Libertarian all participating in the hopeful pursuit of the payout of capitalism.
I’ve had long conversations with:
A twenty-three-year-old prostitute from Idaho who came here to be a spokesmodel and made some pretty poor choices along the way.
A sixty-six-year-old millionaire Big Oil executive with more money and time on his hands yet still feeling a need to hide from the world.
A thirty-five-year-old limo driver with dreams of hitting it big on sports betting so he can start his own fleet of cars.
A fifty-three-year-old TimeShare saleswoman whose husband left her a few years back and she’s happier than ever to be alone.
A thirty-year-old construction journeyman in town to work on the Raiders Stadium who spends his off-time shooting his collection of guns at local ranges and playing video poker. He’s also incredible worried he’ll be a terrible father to the baby that’s coming soon.
A seventy-seven-year-old retired economics professor who is living out his last days (his words) analyzing the workings of craps and visiting the desert nature with his wife of fifty years.
The ridiculous, wonderful quilt of human existence wanders into this tiny dive bar casino and its Days Inn from everywhere in the world and covers me in stories every day. I don’t know if there are answers to the Big Questions of Life and It’s Meaning but if I am to find them, I’m pretty sure their right here in the people I dance in tandem with daily.
Once I do leave the Wild Wild West Gambling Hall for some other place in Vegas, I’ll take a month or so and write a book about it. Like so many places I’ve never even imagined, this place is like a Roald Dahl invention and I’m digging my own personal Chocolate Factory.
LESSON #14: Management Is About Fostering Trust Rather Than Intimidation
As a younger man I’ll admit I was a bit...angry. Demanding. Aggressively pushing my agenda forward. You know... typical male. I used to say that more people left WNEP Theater because I lost temper than for any other reason. Not a pretty picture in hindsight despite the many great successes artistically.
As a casino manager I’ve found that I’m the “nice manager” and a large part of that comes from my understanding that, in an environment of constant surveillance and a draconian process of administrative discipline, I’d rather my staff trust me than work in fear of making mistakes. The flip side is that some staff members and guests take advantage of my softer approach but I’d rather be taken advantage of once in a while than rule by an iron hand.
This approach is at odds with the corporate policies more often than not. The casino business is built in part on an intentional distrust of everyone involved. There are patrons who are so seeped in the get mine at the expense of everyone else mentality that sniffing out the folks who claim the machine stole their money and faking a fall in order to get a free hotel room for the night is a necessary skill to develop. The staff member who clocks in just a bit early and just a bit late to pad their paycheck a bit is always going to be there.
These people are not, in my experience, in the majority and changing my approach to protect against the few only to punish the many is a poor strategy in life.
LESSON #15: I’d Rather Let the World Change Around Me Than Have the World Wear Me Down
Imagine a rock in a river. The water rushes past and due to the presence of the rock, must diverge its forward push to accommodate the obstacle. Certainly, over time, the water reshapes the rock’s edges but the fundamental nature of the rock is that the outer edges protect the inner strength.
Being surrounded by gamblers, grifters, pessimists, and cynics the temptation is to adapt to reflect the reality these people puke out. It is a reality that posits kindness as weakness, justice as a sword rather than a scale, honesty as vulnerability, and shame as a weapon. The easier road to travel is the one that acquiesces to these concepts and allowing the water to fundamentally change your behavior to reflect these noxious values. I reject that easier road. The water will divert its path to accommodate my optimism, good humor, and fundamental belief in humanity.
A substantial part of this lesson is rooted in the expectation theory which is at odds with Lesson #2. The theory (one I learned in college) is simply that if we have low expectations for people, people will accommodate that. If we have high expectations, the result will match that. The idea is that people around us respond to our expectations of them in remarkable ways. It is all on how perceive them and concomitantly treat them.
I know I will be cheated, betrayed, lied to, and assaulted with negativity but I will continue to expect better rather resign myself to the inevitability of those behaviors.
As Fall hit Vegas, the days blended into one another. Routine set in. I’m a creature of routine. It provides me with a sense of control and security. Certain benchmarks in time become either more or less important depending on the day and frame of mind. I worked on both Thanksgiving and Christmas Day for the first times in my life. In the day-to-day grind of living check-to-check, the realization that these Holy Days are a luxury strikes hard when confronting the cultural universality of them. Not spending time with my family was jarring but Dana and I made our own holiness.
Not to be too dramatic but it reminded me of the image of Charlie Chaplin in some movie as The Tramp treating a single bean as a full meal. He gets out a knife and fork, a napkin over his shirt, and proceeds to take his time eating that single bean, gingerly slicing it like a steak.
LESSON #16: In the Absence of Luxury, How We Treat What We Have Can Either Elevate Its Value or Dismiss It Altogether.
When working hard for the money to pay your rent, you choose to either practice gratitude for the simple pleasure of going to a park, taking a hot shower, taking a nap on a couch, or you ignore that simplicity with the gnawing anxiety of want for more. I believe that treating the smallest of gifts we receive as bounty reflects upon how we view those moments of need in longer term ways.
LESSON #17: The iPad Pro is Perfectly Capable of Replacing a Desktop Computer or a Laptop.
Not so much a lesson as an observation subject to disbelief, at one point in our Vegas autumn, my 2011 iMac took a massive shit and died. All I had was my iPad Pro and I had to make due. Turns out, this enlarged iPhone is actually a fairly powerful computer and manages to handle my substantial computing needs with ease. A few workarounds, an app or two navigate limitations, and I may never get another desktop.
LESSON #18: "You’ll stop caring what people think about you when you realize how seldom they do." — David Foster Wallace
Here.
If I were still getting tattoos on my birthdays, this would be the one I’d ink this year.
LESSON #19: You Don’t Need to Announce to the World That You’re Reclaiming the Best of You Have Been After Being Wounded. You Just Need to Sack Up and Get it Done.
LESSON #20: Everyone You Know or Have Known is Going to Die and You Have No Idea When and Have No Control Over It. Proceed Accordingly.
Had a few people whom I cared about croak this year. As I age, I’m a thousand percent certain I’ll have some more. Soon enough I’ll be on the In Memoriam list and you, Gentle Reader, will acknowledge my passing with a post on my Facebook wall that will live on past my demise like a fucking morbid remember that the digital self never decays.
That’s it. I’m sure there were more lessons than twenty but those are the stand outs. Seriously, I recommend that you (one of the ten or fifteen who will actually read this) try the exercise. Look at your year on your birthday and ask yourself what you learned. It’s all fucking naval-gazing and staring into a pond at your own reflection but the benefits, while difficult to describe, are nonetheless remarkable.
Every day is a gift. Every bean is a meal. Every breath is a choice.
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Over the past 23 years, the animation studio Pixar has become one of the country’s most consistent purveyors of film, growing steadily since it released Toy Story, the first computer-animated feature-length film in history, on November 22, 1995.
From superhero adventures to lonely robots on a post-apocalyptic Earth, its movies have earned plaudits for being artistically adventurous and for telling stories ostensibly aimed at kids that have just as many adult fans. Even Pixar’s less notable works still provide solid entertainment. (Well, except for a couple.)
Naturally, the release of Incredibles 2, the studio’s 20th full-length feature film, meant it was time for your friendly neighborhood Vox staff to rank all 20 of those films so far. Should you have any quibbles with the results, please note that our rankings are 100 percent accurate. We’re glad to put the old debate of which Pixar movie is best to rest.
If you want to see our rankings of all of Pixar’s short films, go here.
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The best thing about Cars 2 is that its release came after a long, unbroken string of Pixar dominance that had lasted for the company’s first 11 features. (Even the first Cars, while obviously the weakest of those films, is an entertaining movie with something on its mind.)
Thus, the company was due for a backlash, and it almost seemed as if it released this film in an attempt to schedule that backlash and get it over with as quickly as possible.
The neat idea here is that of an international spy saga starring cars; the movie was essentially only greenlit because the first one sold so much in the way of toys and merchandise, so why not use it to experiment with what a Pixar film could be?
Sadly, its more overtly action-oriented trappings don’t really work, and the film lacks any deeper themes or ideas. The result is an unfortunate example of the one thing so many other studios’ films aspire to but Pixar films usually seem to transcend without blinking: a somewhat tolerable way to keep the kids entertained for a couple of hours. —Todd VanDerWerff
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A troubling phenomenon that’s started to creep up on Pixar in recent years is the sense that all of its films are constructed from elements of other films. This is no big surprise; all films draw inspiration from somewhere, and Pixar revisits the same general ideas and themes over and over.
But in the past five years, the studio has seemingly gotten much worse at transforming those influences into something all its own, which is how we arrive at The Good Dinosaur, a visually stunning feature that lacks soul — the one thing a Pixar film must have above all else.
There are some potentially interesting ideas in The Good Dinosaur about overcoming fear and the importance of family (the latter being a Pixar staple), but they’re subsumed by an episodic story that’s full of false starts and never figures out what it wants to be. —Todd VanDerWerff
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Cars 3 is by no means a great movie, but it’s also not a bad one, and if you only compared it to its immediate predecessor, you might conclude it was the finest film ever made. Cars 3 tries to expand the world of the Cars films, and it does so to what’s essentially the breaking point. (In one scene, a character alludes to what amounts to car racism and a car civil rights movement. Sure.)
Where Cars 3 ultimately succeeds is in its interest in exploring a time-honored Pixar theme: the slow passage of authority from one generation to the next. Lightning McQueen is getting old, and now that he’s threatened by a new generation of race cars with better technology, he has to find a way to compete. Would you believe that he learns along the way that he has value to the world, even if he’s no longer the fastest race car of them all? Would you similarly believe that he thus completes a journey vaguely set up in the first Cars movie?
The Cars films are one of Pixar’s least fruitful cul de sacs, but Cars 3 at least provides a largely bittersweet sendoff to them, provided this is the last. —Todd VanDerWerff
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Originally pitched as The Yellow Car, the first incarnation of Cars told the story of an electric car in a gas-powered world. Little appears to remain of that story (except the fact that the characters are cars); instead, the film stars Lightning McQueen, a brash, bright red race car. Stranded in a long-forgotten roadside town called Radiator Springs, Lightning learns a lesson in humility from a cast of “folksy” automobiles after running afoul of the law.
A hit with younger audiences, the film sets a fairly straightforward path to Lightning’s redemption and introduces one of Pixar’s more annoying sidekicks in the process: Mater the talking tow truck. Far more interesting than Cars’ main story are its secondary themes of buried history and authenticity, though like many parts of this film’s legacy, they’re largely lost in the flash. —Agnes Mazur
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The prequel to Monsters, Inc. brings the story of Mike and Sully back to its unlikely origins. As college freshmen, the two characters ��� who perfectly embody the jock/nerd archetypes — are forced to work together to compete in the annual campus Scare Games (think American Gladiator, but with more spikes and teeth).
Though it’s laden with college movie tropes ranging from stolen mascots to fraternity hazing, Monsters University still manages to give the pair’s unlikely friendship the room it needs to grow. A notable twist near the end of the film keeps it from being too predictable, and the sheer variation and number of monsters populating the world reflect an animation team with a zeal for detail. Even the movie’s promotional materials, which include a full Monsters University website, brim with the color and character of a true Pixar production. —Agnes Mazur
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Pixar’s second feature-length film is a kinda-sorta remake of the samurai classic The Seven Samurai (already kinda-sorta remade as The Magnificent Seven), but starring bugs. The studio is clearly still feeling out its process in this one, which is good but not yet impeccable. Still, it boasts one of Pixar’s most entertaining ensemble casts, thanks to an elaborate bug circus that poses as a fearsome army.
In the lead role is Kids in the Hall and Newsradio star Dave Foley, who’s so good as a Pixar everyman that it’s somewhat amazing he hasn’t been added to every film the studio’s made since, John Ratzenberger–style. (Ratzenberger, the former Cheers star who’s been part of every Pixar movie to date, stars in A Bug’s Life as the owner of the circus.) —Todd VanDerWerff
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Thirteen years after Finding Nemo premiered in 2003, its sequel, Finding Dory, swam eagerly into theaters, trying to recapture the immense heart and sweetness that made Nemo such a success. Ellen DeGeneres reprised the role of Dory — the lovable blue tang fish with almost no short-term memory — backed by a largely new all-star cast featuring Ed O’Neill as a surly octopus and Kaitlin Olson as an enthusiastic whale shark. Together, they bring new life to Pixar’s underwater universe by building a franchise that kept the earnest spirit of the original movie alive.
And while Dory’s determined adventuring through a marine life rehabilitation center doesn’t quite have the same magic of Nemo’s open-ocean travels, the sequel manages to stand on its own by diving deep into what makes the thoughtful, forgetful Dory such a truly special fish. —Caroline Framke
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Describing Brave as a “redheaded stepchild” might prove a bit too literal, given its hero Merida’s long, crimson locks, but it’s a worthwhile film that’s too often overlooked in retrospectives of Pixar’s best work. The first film in the studio’s history to feature a female protagonist (seriously, it took that long), Brave sometimes feels assembled from 17 different screenplay drafts. However, it has at its center a tremendously compelling story of how our relationships with our parents evolve as we age into adolescence.
Scottish princess Merida is struggling with the notion that she’s meant to choose a husband — she wants to do no such thing — which leads to her and her mother being cast out into the wild, forced to care for each other and come to a new understanding. Most refreshing: There’s no perfunctory love interest in sight. —Todd VanDerWerff
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Pixar’s first sequel (though, sadly, not its last), Toy Story 2 was changed at the last minute from a direct-to-video feature to a theatrical release. Surprisingly, this doesn’t show, as the film revisits its predecessor’s themes of friendship and finding one’s purpose, then shoots them through with a hefty dose of melancholy at the thought of children eventually growing up and leaving childish things behind.
It cannily reverses the original movie’s dynamics, with cowboy Woody now the one who’s unhappy being a toy and Buzz Lightyear having to pull him back from the brink. And when Woody gets a chance to attain immortality thanks to a toy collector, he’s seriously tempted, only to be reminded of his true calling.
Toy Story 2 has no reason to be as good as it is, but it adds substantially to the franchise’s mythology (such as it is). It also features a Sarah McLachlan song that will destroy you, guaranteed. —Todd VanDerWerff
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Something Pixar doesn’t get enough credit for these days (possibly thanks to its recent focus on sequels) is the economy of its world building. Watch the first 10 minutes of Monsters, Inc. and you’ll understand, more or less, everything you need to know about the universe it operates in — while still having your mind blown by the beauty of said universe (the factory floor!) and being tickled by its wit.
Monsters, Inc. is also Pixar’s first attempt to do something radical, asking children to identify with parent figures, in this case Mike Wazowski and Sully, as they try to care for and protect a creature they love but don’t entirely understand. Boo awakened parental feelings that 13-year-old me had never felt before, and have been stirred only rarely since. —Dara Lind
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Up is not just the first Pixar movie to make me cry but the first movie to make me do so as an adult. Its famous opening sequence, in which a married couple experiences some of the highs and lows of their lives, is one of the most blunt depictions of growing up and letting life pass you by that I have ever seen in a film, animated or otherwise.
But this introduction sets the stage for a movie that at its core promises it’s never too late to go out and accomplish what you want; after all the disappointment we witness in the first few minutes, from the loss of a potential child to the death of a loved one, an elderly man quite literally defies gravity to finally take the trip to South America he and his wife always dreamed of. —German Lopez
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In so many ways, Incredibles 2 is Pixar’s most dazzling achievement. It’s true that computer animation doesn’t age as well as hand-drawn animation, thanks to continued technological leaps. It’s also true that the original Incredibles no longer looks as spiffy as it did in 2004, and, thus, it’s not hard to imagine this sequel looking similarly wrung out in (ye gods) 2032.
But goodness does director Brad Bird know his way around an action sequence! So much of Incredibles 2 offers some of the most visually inventive, most astonishing superhero sequences in all of moviemaking, and it’s hard to conceive of those losing their punch when all is said and done. That those sequences are also wrapped around a surprisingly complex and intriguing story about ideas of exceptionalism, justice, and community makes it sort of an ur-text for everything Bird has been obsessed with for his entire career.
The story perhaps lacks some of the emotional heft of the first film, and it occasionally cuts awkwardly between its superhero-driven main story (starring Elastigirl!) and a domestic comedy subplot about Mr. Incredible having to be a stay-at-home dad. But both storylines are tremendous fun, and when they finally converge in the movie’s second half, it takes off to join some of Pixar’s best. —Todd VanDerWerff
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So many of Pixar’s movies are a tale of two halves. You’ll be watching the first half of the movie, wondering if it’s going anywhere, only for the second half to sock you in the gut with unexpected emotional payoffs. Or, in the case of a handful of the studio’s movies, a terrific first half is followed by a second half that gradually deflates.
Coco belongs to the former category, with a slightly tedious first half that feels like the studio repeating itself in its themes of family and community and even mortality. Sure, the visit to the Land of the Dead (as depicted in Mexican mythology) is visually stunning, with a bright neon glow unlike anything else in the Pixar canon. But so much of that early going feels rote and familiar. It gets by with this by being a mystery, more or less, as young boy Miguel investigates several family secrets after accidentally landing in the afterlife. But it’s hard to escape the feeling of having been there and done that.
And then the second half hits, and you realize just how much Coco has been playing you. As Miguel finally uncovers the sadness at the core of his family, the movie becomes effortlessly transporting and, finally, in its closing sequence, incredibly moving. It’s the only movie on this list that might make clicking a “Remember Me” box on a website’s login screen make you tear up. —Todd VanDerWerff
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Toy Story 3 might not be the best film in the franchise, but it’s the one that hits you the hardest. There’s always been a Velveteen Rabbit–like quality to the Toy Story movies — they’re thoughtful pieces of art that make you question what it means to be “real” or “loved.” And in Toy Story 3, Buzz, Woody and the rest of the toys just want to be loved as Andy heads off to college.
Their yearning sets them on a voyage to a day care from hell, where they clash with a maniacal teddy bear named Lots-O-Huggin’ and end up in one of the most emotionally devastating scenes Pixar has ever produced. —Alex Abad-Santos
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Ratatouille is Pixar’s ode to the infectious joy of making art. The plot is a standard (if sprightly) tale of genius overcoming limitations: Would-be gourmet chef Remy is the genius, and the unfortunate fact that he is a rat is the limitation.
But in all of the movie’s truly indelible passages, cooking is just a symbol for any creative endeavor — say, filmmaking. Remy���s first adventure in combining one type of food with another (a bit of cheese with a strawberry) is a jazzy bit of synesthesia, and the joy that Pixar’s animators felt in illustrating it just leaps off the screen.
Later, the film’s final act, involving the skinny and therefore deeply suspicious restaurant reviewer Anton Ego, offers a moving bit of wish fulfillment: Every creator would love to turn the heart of his harshest critic. —Dara Lind
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This underwater tale opens with a jarring, devastating loss that sets the charge on the emotional minefield that is parenting, making clownfish Marlin’s paranoia for his son Nemo’s safety sting that much more. And once Marlin’s worst fears are realized, the two embark on parallel journeys that make them face their fears head on.
Between the schools of fish, (mostly) friendly sharks, slightly stoned sea turtles, and misfit aquarium inhabitants they encounter along the way lie some poignant lessons about life. But the true beauty lies in Finding Nemo’s gorgeous animation and the enduring love of family. —Caroline Framke
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Pixar has mastered the art of telling children’s stories adults can relate to. But this year, the studio showed it can also do the opposite. Inside Out, about a tweenage girl named Riley, feels like a story for grown-ups that’s wrapped in a candy-coated, kid-friendly shell.
The film explores what it’s like to feel listless, to face the inevitability and pain of growing up. And while Pixar’s movies have certainly dealt with heavy topics in the past (a lost parent in Finding Nemo, the loss of love in Wall-E and Up, etc.), Inside Out transcends its cinematic cousins to tackle a more pronounced ache and sense of sadness — feelings the movie beautifully depicts as a crucial part of life. —Alex Abad-Santos
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A trash-collecting robot is an unlikely protagonist for any movie. But Pixar managed to win over audiences with a wide-eyed waste compactor named Wall-E who’s assigned the thankless task of cleaning up the heaps of trash humans have left all over Earth.
Wall-E stands out from other Pixar movies thanks to its general lack of dialogue, as the title character only utters a few words throughout the entire film — including his own name and that of EVE, the sleek white robot he courts in a whirlwind romance. Wall-Eshows what Pixar can do with a minimal approach, and the result is solid: a tearjerker of a movie that appeals to viewers of all ages. —Sarah Kliff
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There’s no talking about Pixar’s brand without talking about Toy Story, the studio’s first full-length movie that remains one of its best, even 20 years later. The story of a boy, his imagination, and his toys that come to life the second he leaves them alone set the tone for everything Pixar has done since.
The development of an unlikely bond between cowboy pull-toy Woody and intergalactic superhero Buzz Lightyear is pure silliness on its face, but Toy Story comes to life just as swiftly as its toys thanks to the wit of a zippy, heartfelt script (the work of several different writers, including Finding Nemo’s Andrew Stanton and Buffy’s Joss Whedon).
As Woody and Buzz dodge toy-breaking neighbors and grapple with playroom politics, Toy Story imparts lessons about friendship, grief, and growing up without ever losing its brilliant sense of humor — or, more importantly, its earnest sense of wonder. —Caroline Framke
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Our choice for Pixar’s very best film is this action-packed superhero comedy that doubles as a story about a family splintering apart, then coming back together and/or — depending on your political/philosophical leanings — a weird defense of Ayn Rand’s theories of objectivism. (The Incredibles contains the line “If everyone’s special, then no one is,” which has one context in a superhero story and quite another everywhere else.)
What’s clear in every frame of this film is that Pixar is at the top of its game, dishing out hilarious jokes (like costume designer Edna Mode’s rant against capes), top-flight action sequences, and genuinely touching moments. It was the first film made for the studio by Brad Bird, whose future contributions would include 2007’s Ratatouille. —Todd VanDerWerff
Correction: This article originally said that Wall-E only says one word throughout the course of Wall-E. His vocabulary is limited, but it’s not that limited. We’ve corrected the error.
Original Source -> All 17 Pixar movies, definitively ranked
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30 Best Hunting Dogs for All Types of Game
Dogs have been hunting wild animals and birds for centuries. In fact, we all know that originally, dogs were domesticated by humans primarily to help out with hunting, whether by becoming best hunting dogs on their own merit, or by assisting human hunters.
Even back in the medieval times, canines used to go alongside hunters on horseback to hunt wildlife, and there are many writings that point to dogs being original hunters. Today, hunting with dogs by your side is not as popular in many US states, but the practice didn’t go away completely. Not by a long shot.
Hunting is still very popular, and hunters are always on the lookout for the best hunting dogs, which are often chosen and listed by other professional hunters who evaluate every gun dog’s capabilities and assess which gun dog breed is most appropriate for certain types of hunts.
When it comes to choosing only the best hunting dogs, that is a very hard pick to make. All dogs are unique in their own regard and are best for specific hunting tasks.
For example, some gun dog breeds are better at catching fast prey such as rabbits or foxes, while others will be pros at sniffing out hiding places of certain animals.
The bottom line is that there’s no one single best hunting gun dog. There are multiple breeds that are considered to be best hunting dogs by professional hunters, and I’ll list those for your below. You be the judge on this one and let us know in the comments below which gun dog breed you prefer to go hunting with and why.
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30 Best Hunting Dogs for All Types of Game
1. Boykin Spaniel
A close relative of (or rather a mixture of) an American Water Spaniels, Pointers and Retrievers, Boykin Spaniel is a breed that has originated in South Carolina back in the beginning of 20th century. These rare best hunting dogs are especially loved by serious hunters and have gathered some decent (but not highest) rankings on the hunting dogs charts across multiple dog hunting online resources.
Boykin Spaniel is very energetic dog breed that loves to work hard. They are often used in hunts for mainly pheasants, grouses or quail (upland). Occasionally, hunters will also take Boykins with them for hunting ducks and geese, although this is not their specialty.
2. Brittany Spaniel
Brittany dog breed, which originated in France sometime in the 1800’s, is a cross from different Spaniels and English Setters. Brittanies were bred for pointing and retrieving. They are a quick and curious breed and they do need a lot of exercise on a daily basis, as they can get quite destructive when they do not get enough of it.
Aside from being simply cute, adorable and friendly family dogs, Brittany breed is different from other pointers because is closer to the ground, and will be able to outmaneuver most other pointers by deftly running through bushes and trees. Brittany is considered an all-around great hunting breed.
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3. Wire Fox Terrier
Energetic, lively and small, Wire Fox Terriers are one of the best hunting dogs because that is what they were bred to do back in England of 17th century. These dogs go up to only 20 lbs in size, and are fairly rare these days among hunters, but their powerful frame and fast speed makes them a very suitable chaser of foxes.
Today, Wire Fox Terriers are home dogs that are great with kids. Back in the day, these dogs would chase foxes into their underground burrows, which is where hunters would finish the job, or vice versa – out of their dens and other hiding places. Because Fox Terriers, both smooth and wirehaired, have small bodies, they are able to get in most places foxes can. And their relatively long legs allow to keep up with foxes, too.
4. English Pointer
Pointers are a popular breed, but because there several types of Pointers, the original one is often called English Pointer. Genetic makeup of Pointers includes some of the most talented breeds, such as Greyhounds, Foxhounds, Bloodhounds and setting spaniels. Pointers have originated in England sometime in the 1600’s. As their name suggests, they were bred for pointing out prey during hunts.
This is a very hard working breed who is especially fascinating by catching anything with feathers. Pointers can endure different types of climates and will be able to maintain high energy levels while searching for that prey in the tall grass. Today, they make great companions and are considered one of the best hunting dogs to ever exist. There are two other breeds in the Pointer family which are both covered on this best hunting dogs list.
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5. Bluetick Coonhound
Mostly popular because of certain cartoons, Bluetick Coonhound is actually one of the best hunting dogs one can wish for. This breed is mostly famous for being able to stand toe to toe with some of the most dangerous animals, such as mountain lions. Bluetick Coonhound are great mountain lion hunters and they have the power, stamina and sense of smell to keep up with an “enemy” of that level.
Coonhound’s ability to pick any trail and follow it to a letter is famous among avid hunters, and most of them know the true value of this breed. Originally, they were purposefully bred a slower version of foxhounds, but Bluetick Coonhounds evolved to have a lot of athleticism and pose threat to animals like cougars.
6. Irish Setter
Most Setters were first bred for bird setting, retrieving, and pointing. Irish Setters originated in Ireland in the 1700’s. They are a mixture of spaniels, pointers and other setters. This is one of the best hunting dogs due to them being fast workers and who are especially talented at bird setting and retrieving. It’s a very lively breed that is willing to work hard for you.
Irish Setters will be most often used in hunting small game, and occasionally for turkey hunts. This breed is not a hunter’s first choice, especially with English Setter still out there, or Brittany who is considered to be much better at the same task. Nonetheless, Irish Setters are still great for hunting, and they’re also a lively, beautiful and friendly dog for home and kids.
7. American Water Spaniel
A close cousin of the already mentioned Boykin Spaniel, American Water Spaniels have originated in the United Stated around late 1800’s. These dogs were bred for bird flushing and retrieving, and quite frankly, we all know they’re great at it. In fact, AWS (which is how they are often abbreviated) are rated much higher than Boykins by dog hunting professionals.
Similarly to Boykin Spaniel, these best hunting dogs are adept at retrieving that small game in the tall grass, and they will work hard until the prey is found. AWS are not by any means lazy dogs, which makes them perfect for those multi day long hunts. On the flip-side, they do not require excessive exercise on a daily basis, just long walks.
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8. Bloodhound
Possessing quite possibly the coolest and scariest sounding name, Bloodhound dog breed is exactly what it sounds: they are ruthless hunters who are prepared to face whatever prey they are after. Bloodhounds are truly best hunting dogs that always consider themselves leaders of the pack, and they are prepared to take on any challenge with their amazing tracking skills and sense of smell.
This large breed was originally bred for hunting big and potentially dangerous game, such as wild boar or deer. However, after people discovered how strong of a sense of smell these dogs have, they began using Bloodhounds for tracking people as well, which is the primary reason these dogs are still bred today.
9. Clumber Spaniel
Originated from England in the 1700’s and bred for bird flushing and retrieving, Clumber Spaniel dog breed is not a name of the breed you’ll hear too often. Nonetheless, this is still a Spaniel, and Clumber Spaniel shares a lot of the same traits with other Spaniels, all of whom are great dogs for hunting.
Clumber Spaniels love their walks and may need more baths than other dogs to keep their beautiful white coats shining white. But in terms of hunting, this gundog is ideal for upland hunting in dense cover. They were originally bred for partridge and pheasant hunts, but their slower speed doesn’t allow them for effective chases. However, Clumber Spaniels have a very fine sense of smell and they’re great on stamina.
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10. Beagle
America’s iconic hunting dog, Beagles (breed profile) are the breed of choice for hunting rabbits – one of the toughest assignments for a hunting dog. It’s been over two hundred years that Beagles have been known as professionals of small game hunts, and they continue to maintain this name to this day, with most professionals considering them to be the absolute best hunting dogs.
Beagle dog breed will usually have a strong nose, too, and they are often used for assignments as detection dogs. Fortunately or not, they love barking, which allows hunters to always keep track of where the Beagle is currently at when on a hunt. But on the other hand, this is not the type of dog your neighbors will appreciate you bringing home one day.
11. American Foxhound
Speaking of America’s iconic dogs, there are very few breeds with as rich of a history as American Foxhound. George Washington’s dog of choice, this breed originated in the USA from a mixture of English foxhounds and other similar breeds. As the name suggests, their original purpose was to hunt foxes, but today, they will most often run deer during hunts.
American Foxhounds are very energetic and stubborn with a good amount of stamina, which is what makes them best hunting dogs for many different types of hunts. They also have a good nose and are amazing at working in packs. This dog will love chasing rather than tracking, and needless to say, American Foxhounds have the tools for that.
12. Cocker Spaniel
Another popular and famous “home” dog breed, Cocker Spaniel was first bred in the United Kingdom in the late 19th century or early 20th century, and the breed was used for bird flushing and retrieving. For those wondering, the name “Cocker” is derived from the fact that this breed was all about hunting Woodcocks.
After Cocker Spaniels were brought to the United States, the breed was further improved and their hunting abilities expanded. Even though this gundog is used in hunts today mostly for small bird retrieving, and very often at that, Cocker Spaniels are a popular cute home dog. Their gorgeous coats will need extra attention to keep in good condition or can be cut short for easier grooming.
13. Labrador Retriever
Easily the best hunting dog for any type of waterfowl, Labrador Retrievers (breed profile) are among the most beloved canines for all hunters around the world. These dogs are perfect for hunting around water, because their physical abilities and attributes is exactly what a small game bird dog needs: muscular and strong body, double coat and a thick tail for balance when maneuvering.
In addition to all the hunting trains of Labrador Retrievers, another reason why this breed is considered to be best hunting dogs is their intelligence. These dogs are amazing at being trained, listening commands and simply grasping the essence of obedience training. Labrador Retrievers mature faster than most other dog breeds and can be easily trained as puppies, which is why not only are they often used for hunting but also as working, service and therapy dogs.
14. English Setter
Those who do not consider an Irish Setter to be a good hunting companion, English Setter might be a better choice. This is a talented field hunting gun dog and one of the most popular for bird hunts. They are great at pointing and retrieving small game, and chances are that if you go see a bird hunt with dogs involved, there will most likely be an English Setter used for retrieving.
Even though Brittany dog breed is often rated higher by professional hunters than English Setters, this highly celebrated breed is great at what they were bred to do. Aside from the popular shorthaired pointer, here are two other types of English Setters – wiredhaired and longhaired. All are aknowledged by AKC’s registry and all are inborn hunters.
15. Appalachian Turkey Dog
Photo: turkeydog.org
Appalachian Turkey Dogs are the type of canines which we learned more about from true hunters. There are many types of dogs that will be skilled enough to hunt turkeys, but no breed is better at this job than Appalachian Turkey dogs. These dogs are not yet recognized by AKC’s registry and they are, essentially, still in the making.
Appalachian Turkey dogs have been bred from a mixture of Plott hounds, setters and pointers. Even though the name suggest a canine that would be great at chasing turkeys, the focus with this breed was an all-around best hunting dog: good stamina, speed, desire to chase and skills for hunting waterfowl.
16. Golden Retriever
It’s not your regular family dog. Golden Retrievers (breed profile) are one of the most common and popular retrievers that are considered best hunting dogs for a specific type of assignments, right after Labrador Retrievers. Goldens are amazing small game hunters, and will be a good second choice.
Aside from being ideal for hunting, these dogs are simply perfect companions anywhere else. Their loyalty, companionship and happy go lucky attitude is something every hunter will benefit from. Golden Retrievers are not simply your good looking family dogs, and majority of hunters respect this breed as a decent choice for certain types of hunts.
17. Rhodesian Ridgeback
Originating from South Africa, and also known as African lion dog, Rhodesian Ridgebacks were bred around the late 19th century. Their primary purpose at first was to keep the lions at bay either while on hunts and waiting for the owner to make the kill, or as protectors at home. Rhodesian Ridgeback dog breed have always been known for their ferocity and bravery, which is why they were often used not as hunting dogs but rather good guard dogs.
Eventually, this breed became a hunter of big game. Rhodesian Ridgebacks were not only hunting lions, but also a lot of other wild African animals, such as baboons and wild pigs. Unlike with lions where they wait for the hunter to make the kill, Ridgebacks have been known to fight and kill smaller animals like baboons on their own without any intervention of the owner.
18. Treeing Walker Hound
Known as one of the best all-around hound dogs, Treeing Walker Hound is known to have a strong sense of smell and ability to chase after many different types of animals: cougars, racoons, coyotes, deer and bears. Just as you would expect from hounds that are best hunting dogs, they are also perfect on speed and prey drive – two things which hunters love these dogs the most for.
Treeing Walker Hounds are descendants of Foxhounds, and are better for short and quick hunts where you expect to find the prey within a few hours rather than days. Their stamina will allow to keep up with some of the fastest animals, and other skills to catch up to them.
19. German Wirehaired Pointer
Another amazing all-around hunting breed is German Wirehaired Pointer, also known as Deutsch Drahthaar. These dogs are versatile best hunting dogs ideal for most animal prey. They are of medium to large size, have calm temperament and thick coats, and have been known as a leading gun dog in Germany since the middle of 20th century.
Most professional hunters know this breed as the best all-arounder because of their ability to hunt any sort of game on any type of terrain. They have a strong nose, coat and great tracking skills, which makes them a perfect hunting dog for both land and water. Oftentimes, these dogs will work with groups of hunters, and they are particularly good at this task.
20. Field Spaniel
Not a common choice mostly because of how rare these dogs are, Field Spaniels are definitely good small game retrieving dogs just like most of their Spaniel cousins. They’ve also originated from England and were first bred for bird flushing and retrieving. Field Spaniels might not be the absolute best hunting dogs mostly due to their temperament, but they have the skills and body for it.
These dogs are also very affectionate and happy most of the time. Because of their ancestry, they do need to be used as working dogs and are expected to either hunt or do other physical labor; otherwise, if not given enough exercise and things to do, a Field Spaniel can turn into a destructive brat. Overall, these dogs make excellent family companions. They are very cautious with strangers though.
21. Plott Hound
Those of you looking for a truly tough dog that will face the danger in the eyes should look no further than a Plott Hound. These dogs are some of the best hunting dogs one can ask for when on the quest for big game, such as bears. Plott Hounds are intelligent canines, who know how to track and approach the prey, stand their ground, threaten when needed.
A purebred Plott Hound will have a muscular body and a strong frame; they are tenacious canines with a lot of athleticism in them. Understanding the principles of hunting is also what these dogs are good at, and a Plott Hound will make sure to constantly release short and sharp barks so that you can keep track of where the action is happening while on fast track of a prey. If you’re after cougars, bears or wild boars – this is your breed.
22. Dogo Argentino
Another great big game hunting dog is oddly sounding Dogo Argentino breed. If you think Pit Bulls are scary, wait till you see this big and muscular beast. Physical abilities of this breed are much more suitable for hunting than even Pit Bulls’. This catch dog will change places with your chase dog whenever the time comes and fight whoever he needs to fight – a hog, cougar or bear. They will sink in their teeth and hold onto the prey until the hunter catches up.
This South American breed is much stronger, larger and more athletic than Pit Bulls. First, Dogo Argentino started hunting pumas and wild pigs, but afterwards, hunters realized the type of best hunting dogs these canines are, and soon, Dogo Argentino became the most popular choice for those hunts when you expect the dog to meet the prey face to face.
23. Sussex Spaniel
Naturally, Spaniels are inborn hunters, which is why we’re seeing many different types of them on this list. Now it’s the Sussex Spaniels’ turn, another Spaniel originated from England that was bred for very specific hunting conditions and later almost became extinct. They are not a hunter’s quintessential best choice, but are still considered to be some of the best hunting dogs for bird hunts.
Sussex Spaniels are slow working dogs but have great noses for small game tracking and flushing. The biggest problem with Sussex Spaniels is their stubbornness, which makes them quite difficult to train. But once you get there, your dog will forever be your trusty hunting companion. This breed is the most laid back of all the spaniels, so they would be great for city life. They also have a tendency to howl and bark when left alone.
24. Mountain Cur
Hunters who are looking to embark on a small game chases after animals such as squirrels or raccoons will not find a better hunting dog than Mountain cur. Remember the time you enjoyed chasing after pigeons and how fun that was? Well, Mountain cur still enjoys doing that for a living. After originating in Europe, Mountain curs were brought to the US in the 20th century specifically for hunting and protection from raccoons.
It’s a well known fact that Mountain curs will always dominate any type of squirrel hunt, as they are the most adept at it. The way their bodies are design, their athleticism, medium sized frame and speed, as well as their enthusiasm for small prey makes them some of the best hunting dogs out there.
25. German Shorthair Pointer
Another famous looking canine is the German Shorthair Pointer. This breed has the nose and stamina to hunt even the most hard to catch birds in the wild. The problem with some of that small bird game is keeping up with their pace, and German Shorthair Pointers are quite possibly the only dog breed that can do that. Their intelligence will allow the dog to outwit the prey, and their stamina will let them to keep up with the bird for as long as is needed.
German Shorthair Pointers are great for climbing steep and rugged hillsides as well as chase through even the most nastiest terrains. This breed is a combination of pointers and hounds, which is how the perfect hunting dog was born long time ago in Germany. Hunters looking for one of the best hunting dogs for bird hunts will never, ever go wrong with a German Shorthair Pointer.
26. Spinone Italiano
Spinone Italiano is one of the earliest breeds which as used as pointing dogs. They originated in Italy as far back as the 1200’s. Spino Italion is a very versatile gundog breed that mostly enjoys in helping with pointing and retrieving different types of game. Many years have went into perfecting this breed and the result is an intelligent, loyal and easily trained bird hunting dog.
Although Spinone Italion is definitely one of the best hunting dogs, their primary disadvantage is their speed. Spinone Italiono is quite slow for an all-around best hunter, but their intelligence and stubbornness is what sells them. Additionally, these dogs are very devoted and loving canines that love to please the owner. They are a good breed to have around children and other dogs as they have calm temperaments.
27. Vizsla
Hungarian dog Vizsla is a known and skilled hunter of fowl and upland game. These dogs were bred to work at pointing, falconry and trailing, and they are quite good at it, with hunters using Vizslas today as one of the best hunting dogs for turkeys, pheasants, grouse, woodcock and quail.
As natural hunters, Vizslas are known to have strong noses and are one of the most easily trained dogs. Their fearlessness also adds a few solid points to hunting. Vizslas are gentle and very affectionate yet sensitive dogs. They originated from Hungary sometime in the middle ages, and have been great hunters since them. This dog breed has a tendency to be stubborn and excitable, and they make great companions for truly active pet owners.
28. Weimaraner
This unique an interest looking breed originated in Germany in early 19th century, and have specialized in hunting large game, trailing and pointing. This dog was royalty’s first choice for hunting boars, bears, deer and other game of that type and size. They love running and hunting and do not like being penned up, which is where their true attitude comes into play.
This is an all-purpose gun dog breed, and all their origins point to them being one of the best hunting dogs that ever existed. Weimaraners have a very strong instinctive prey drive, and there are very few animals whom they can tolerate for a long period of time. Their urge to constantly hunt is undeniable. Weimaraner can also be too much for small children as they can be rambunctious due to their nature.
29. Wirehaired Pointing Griffon
Wirehaired Pointing Griffon – another gundog breed known well from the old days. These canines are extremely skilled at what they do – mostly pointing and retrieving – and are most certainly one of the best hunting dogs around. They originated in France in the 19th century as dogs for hunting in and around water, as well as through thick undergrowth. Their coat is absolutely perfect for those types of hunting locations.
Wirehaired Pointing Griffons are an intelligent breed that are willing to go through a lot to please the owner. Even on the job, these dogs remain playful and have an upbeat, puppy-type of personality, which can be a good and a bad thing for serious hunters. The excitable temperament will often cause issues, but in the end, Wirehaired Pointing Griffons will do the job they have set out to do.
30. Chesapeake Bay Retriever
Last on the list of best hunting dogs but definitely not least is the Chesapeake Bay retriever who has a fascinating story of how they originated. Back in the 19th century, there was a shipwrecked brig from England that was rescued by an American ship. On board, there were two Newfoundland puppies, one black and one red.
They proved to be great water retrievers later on and they became so popular that people would bring their retrievers to be bred with them. The breed became very advanced in their water retrieving skills later on. Today, Chesapeake Bay Retriever are some of the best retrieving dogs.
This is a hard working dog breed that is not afraid of water, dirt or brutal terrain. Compared to Labrador Retrievers, Chesapeaks have a more solid build and their coat is more suitable for hunting that involves a lot of water contact. Usually, these dogs absolutely love to swim and will do so eagerly, especially for the prey.
READ NEXT: 12 Types of Hunting Dogs and Which One You Need
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