#old bird boy

[cozylittleartblog]

had a(nother) nightmare

[justarandomart]

BIRBS! 2.0 

[kedreeva]

Congratulations to Wendy for passing her intake exam (mycoplasma test pending) and being the first of my birds to ever bite the vet for daring to touch her. This child is full on ready to hold her own in a fight. Upon arrival home, she got her last parasite med, and a pretty aqua bracelet to declare her a bird from Longfeather Lane.

[edorazzi]

Happy birthday to my gorgeous, amazing @officialladynoirette!!!!

After my amazing Thunderbirds bday gift from last year, I counter with a shameless thirst trap of her favourite iR bird. Just showing off his tattoo, of course! 👀

[copepods]

shiny boys eat grass

[fanfoolishness]

Senescence

Clones have always lived on borrowed time. On a trip home from the Rebellion, Omega and her family reach a new understanding. Bittersweet soft family feels, ~2700 words. Written for the @summer-of-bad-batch prompts "Just when were you planning on telling us me that?" and "Yeah, kid, we're fine."

---

Don’t go in blasters blazing, Omega thought, despite the fact that she felt so furious she thought she might climb out of her skin. She thought of Mon Mothma, working in the Imperial Senate and keeping her face calm even when she was lying through her teeth. She could do it too. She keyed in the code and her brothers’ front door opened up.

Hunter was sitting on the couch, his bandaged leg propped up on a footstool. A new walker stood nearby.  A guilty expression lodged immediately on his face, and he threw a blanket over his leg, trying to conceal it. “Hey, look who’s back!” he said warmly, though his eyes still looked furtive.

Batcher woofed slightly, creaking to her feet and shambling towards her. Omega sank to her knees in the entry area, patting Batcher furiously. She could feel the knobbiness of Batcher’s spine through her fur now, aged muscles having wasted, but Batcher was just as pleased to see her as ever. Omega closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and feeling heartened by Batcher’s excitement. “Thanks, girl,” she whispered.

She got to her feet, setting her things down.. She heard the bedroom door open and Wrecker came down the hall, calling to Hunter as he came, his cane stumping down the hall. “Hey, who’s that at the -- Omega!” He closed the distance to her, setting his cane against the wall and flinging his arms wide for a massive hug, teetering slightly as he did so. Some of her anger dissipated as she went to him and threw her arms around him, bracing herself to lend him a little extra support. She rested her head against his shoulder, sighing gratefully.

“Didn’t know you were comin’ home,” Wrecker said softly, his voice thick. He always got choked up when she came home. She hugged him extra tight. “I’d of baked a cake.”

Omega gave him one last squeeze, then pulled back. Stay calm. “Well,” she said carefully, “I wasn’t planning on it… until a little mynock told me about Hunter’s leg.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Hunter said in exasperation from the living room. 

“Oh, really?” Omega came to stand in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning down at him. He gave her an uneasy smile, then winced. Scrapes and abrasions crisscrossed his chin and nose, along with a bruise along his untattooed cheekbone. He reached up to brush his gray and white hair back from his face, looking sheepish. “So who told you? Phee? Shep? Vik?”

“Phee,” Omega admitted. “She thought I already knew. Said she’d keep an eye on you for me after your accident.” She gave them both a tight smile. “You should’ve seen my face when she told me.” 

“He’s fine,” Wrecker said quickly, sitting down beside Hunter. “Honest. AZI’s been takin’ care of him, and me and Crosshair, too.”

“It was just a little fall,” Hunter said, ducking his head defensively. “It could’ve happened to anyone. You know what the stairs are like when it rains --”

“And just when were you planning on telling me that this ‘little fall’ broke your leg?” she asked. She knew she was raising her voice, her attempt at a calm exterior starting to fail. She turned away from them, taking deep breaths. 

She gazed down at the little alcove opposite the couch, where she had put Tech’s goggles when they first moved in. Now that her brother’s goggles had a place of honor in the Marauder II, the alcove held other things: holoscans of her family through the years, portraits that Crosshair had painted of Tech and Echo, a decorative weaving from Wrecker in Lula’s colors, jewelry Omega had made. And from Hunter, a wooden carving of a familiar skull emblem.

Seeing it all again, her composure broke, and she turned back to them, angrily wiping away tears. 

“Look, kid, we didn’t want to worry you,” Hunter said. “I know you’re mad I didn’t tell you. But I’m gonna be fine. AZI’s got me taken care of, the villagers are helping out with some of our work, it’s not a big deal. Things happen,” he said, giving her one of those steady, calm looks she had so cherished when she was small.

For a moment, she almost believed him.

But she wasn’t small anymore. She was a grown woman blessed with normal aging, but her brothers weren’t, and it was catching up to them. She knew a year or two ago, Hunter could still have caught himself easily from a trip or a fall, could have bounced back with just a little stiffness and a tweaked ankle or wrist. Instead, looking at the scrapes on his face, she realized he’d not only fallen, but hadn’t been able to break the fall at all.

“Omega?” Wrecker asked. He patted the couch beside him, where there was an empty seat between himself and Hunter.

She reluctantly sat down between them, then flung her arms around Hunter, pulling him to her as hard as she could. She tried to fight back tears but they spilled out anyway, hot and damp into the collar of his shirt. He held her, whispering, “I’m sorry, kid. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Is it?” Omega asked, looking hard into his brown eyes, then into Wrecker’s. She laid a hand on Wrecker’s cheek against his scruffy white beard and gave him a watery smile. She turned back to Hunter, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. “You’re getting older so fast,” she whispered. “All of you. And I’m… I’m scared.”

She and Hunter breathed in, breathed out, like they’d done a hundred times before.  But that was different; that was back when she was a kid. She pulled away from him to rest her face in her hands. “We’re… losing a lot of people. Our base on Hoth was overrun, and it was a total mess. We’re doing our best but the Empire’s so massive. And when it gets hard I think of all of you. It’s like, at least there’s somewhere safe out there, somewhere the Empire can’t touch, where I know the people I love are going to be all right. Except I don’t know that now.”

Wrecker rested his hand on her shoulder, and Hunter reached out, resting one hand on her knee. “We take care of each other, kid,” Wrecker said. “An’ when we can’t… well, we’re figurin’ out how to ask for help. We’re not alone here, and we’re not the first people to ever get old.” He managed a chuckle, though his eyes were watery. “We’re just doin’ it a little faster than usual.”

“It isn’t fair,” Omega said, as much as she knew it made her sound like a kid. She shook her head at herself, laughing ruefully. “I know life isn’t fair. But this is hard. I wish I was here with you.”

“No you don’t,” Hunter said in a gruff voice, which he followed with a soft smile. “You thought Wrecker talked too much about bodily functions before, you should hear him get going now that he’s got actual ailments.”

“Hey,” Wrecker said, sticking out his tongue. “At least you know what mine are. Crosshair’s always moanin’ under his breath, but when you ask him why, he just goes ‘ohhh it’s nothing.’ That’s worse!”

“And I just get cranky when something’s bothering me. Like this leg,” Hunter admitted. He twitched aside the blanket covering his leg, revealing a cast that went almost to his knee. 

Omega sighed, smiling at him. “You have been extra cranky the last call or two.” She nudged him in the shoulder. “I should have realized something was up, but I was a little distracted with the whole saving the galaxy thing.”

The front door opened, and they turned to see Crosshair come in, carrying a bag of fresh fruit and a well-worn leather satchel. He stopped immediately at seeing Omega. “Omega,” he said, a smile spreading over his deeply lined face. Then he scanned the couch and saw that Hunter’s cast and the walker were visible. His shoulders slumped. “So you know about Hunter’s little spill.”

“I know you didn’t tell me either,” Omega accused, though her anger had nearly faded away. She got to her feet, giving him a fierce look for a moment as he set down the fruit and his satchel of art supplies. She tried to look as stern as possible, though a smile kept threatening to break out on her face.

Crosshair held out both hands in supplication, one flesh, one metal. His metal hand seemed to be working smoothly; she’d check with him before she left in case it needed any tuning up. He sighed. “Truce? Hunter swore me to secrecy.”

“Me too,” Wrecker pointed out. 

“So this is all Hunter’s fault?” Omega asked, looking around at all three of them.

“As usual,” said Crosshair.

Hunter shrugged. “Guilty.”

“Well, now that that’s settled,” said Crosshair, raising his eyebrows at Omega. “I believe you owe me a hug.” 

“Oh, of course I do,” Omega said. She strode to the kitchen, pulling her youngest brother into an embrace. He lowered his head slightly, resting his cheek against hers, his white beard soft against her skin. “Love you, little brother,” she whispered.

“Love you, Omega,” he whispered, quietly enough that only she could hear him.

She pulled back, letting him go. “C’mon.”

“Come on, what?”

“House meeting,” she said. “Now. I know I don’t technically live here anymore --”

“Excuse me, you’ll always have a room here, kid!”

“But there’s some things we need to talk about.”  

---

It was late, and they’d talked through Batcher’s afternoon walk, into dinnertime, well past moonrise. Through the large window in the living room Omega could see the stars spangling the night sky, a fraction of all that lay beyond them. The waning moon wheeled high. She turned to her brothers, stifling a yawn.

“Sure you can’t stay longer?” Hunter asked. “At least a few days.”

“I told you, Hunter, I’m expected back at 1200 tomorrow. I’ll have to leave first thing in the morning,” Omega said. “Hera’s working off some new intel and she’ll need backup. I can’t let her down.” She smiled tiredly. “But I didn’t want to let all of you down, either.”

“You couldn’t possibly,” said Crosshair. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose, and he nudged them up. Not for the first time she wondered how much he and Tech might have looked alike by this age, a bittersweet thought.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself, kid,” Hunter said. “But we’ll agree to your demands.”

“When’d you get so good at negotiating?” Wrecker asked, shaking his head.

“Just one of my many skills,” Omega laughed. “So you mean it? If one of you, including Batcher, gets seriously sick or injured, will you actually tell me next time?”

“As long as it’s worse than a sniffle,” Hunter amended. “You don’t need to worry about every little ache and pain. We’re going to get older. That’s just how it works.” He gave her a sad smile. “Clones have always lived on borrowed time. We’ve gotten more than most.”

She swallowed, her throat tight. As much as she wanted her brothers to slow everything down, to age slowly and gently like Shep and Phee, she knew that no one possessed the power to undo what the Kaminoans had created. She had to accept that someday, sooner than she could bear, all of them would follow Tech and Echo before them. 

But her brothers were brave. They always had been. She would be, too.

Omega nodded. “I understand. I know this is what we’ve been dealt. And I know we’ve been so, so lucky to have had the time we did.” She wiped at her eyes, blinking back more tears. “So stupid. I told myself I wasn’t going to cry again.”

“We’re not dyin’ right now,” Wrecker laughed. He was crying again, too, fresh tears on his cheeks, but his laugh was as big and booming as ever. “So don’t worry too much about us just yet.”

“Yeah, kid,” said Hunter, giving her a kind smile, his eyes a little too bright. “We’re fine. Honest.”

Crosshair brought out a fresh toothpick, angling it between his teeth. He puffed up his chest. “Don’t worry, Omega. I’ll keep an eye on these old-timers.”

“You know you’re only the youngest by a standard week, right?” Omega said, giggling.

“With accelerated aging, it could be a few weeks,” said Crosshair loftily. “I’ll make the most of it.”

“Oh sure, laugh it up, whippersnapper,” Hunter snorted.

“Okay, okay, you grumpy old men, some of us have to get to bed and go fight a rebellion,” Omega laughed. “Come on. Let me give you all another hug.”

“Won’t say no to that,” said Wrecker. He went to foist himself up from the couch, then paused, holding up his hand. “Mind giving me a hand? Back’s been killing me.”

“Any time, Wrecker.” She braced herself, holding out her hand for him to grip. Together they got him to his feet, and she handed him his cane automatically. He leaned against it, holding out his other arm as wide as he could, engulfing her in a massive hug. Her ear was pressed against his chest, and she listened to his heartbeat, its rhythm strong and steady.  “Love you, you know.”

“‘Course I know. Love you, too,” he murmured. “Keep takin’ good care of Lula for me.”

Crosshair was next. Even though Crosshair wasn’t as thin as he used to be, it was still always funny going from hugging Wrecker to hugging him. Her arms wrapped securely around him, and he held her close. He’d shrunk a little, and she’d grown, to the point there were only a few centimeters between their heights now. “Drawing anything new?” she murmured into his ear.

“Some of the birds from around the island,” he confessed. He still got shy sometimes about his work, even though he was always learning new things. “I can show you next time.”

“Of course. Looking forward to it, Crosshair.”

Hunter was last. She sat down on the couch beside him, resting her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her. She slipped one arm behind his back and curled up beside him. “How does your leg feel?” she asked quietly.

“It hurts, but it’s manageable,” said Hunter. “I’ll follow all of AZI’s instructions. Promise.”

“You’d better. I’m sure Batcher misses her walks with you.”

“She’s adapting. But I miss them too,” he admitted. “So I’ll work hard to heal this. And we’ll let you know if there’s a problem.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She snuggled in closer to him, feeling safer than she had in a long time. “I love you, Hunter.”

“Love you so much, kid.”

---

She lay on her back in her bed in her childhood bedroom, watching the stars glow and twinkle across the ceiling. Batcher snored contentedly on the floor beside her, flopped peacefully on her side. Everything here was as Omega had left it, though she had told them they could use the space for other things if they needed. Clearly her brothers had their own idea.

It had been hard for them when she left, she knew that, but it was something she needed to do. It was going to be hard to leave this time, too, knowing that every time she came home, they’d be a little bit older, a little bit frailer. 

Knowing that maybe someday she’d lose them, without getting to say goodbye.

Omega closed her eyes. She remembered the green smells of Kashyyyk, the sound of Pabu’s waves, Crosshair’s hand in hers, years ago. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was here, and so were her brothers. The future hadn’t arrived yet; there was only the present. And in the present she knew her brothers loved her, and they knew she loved them in return.

That would never change. She was more sure of it than anything. 

Omega smiled, and she carried that thought in every breath, in every heartbeat, until at last she fell asleep.

[talesfromthecrypts]

Neil Newbon as Quinten Quist in The Discovery of Heaven (2001)

[lolobizarreadventuresshatpost]

How to defeat Diego Brando: put him in front of a mirror and watch his giant parakeet-ass go at it for hours

[robintherobiner]

Made an edit for my latest AU - Tim who thinks Dick is a God. (feel free to follow me on tiktok, where i post edits, same username as here)

“You are the light, the good, the God. i will follow you, admire you, and become one with you.”

[charlietheepicwriter7]

the ship name for jazz x dick grayson is Night Birds, right?

Well, Night Birds, but Jazz was Red X

Every summer, Maddie and Jack would sign Jazz and Danny up for the cheesiest, mind-numbingly boring ghost hunting camp in the world, located in Jump City. There's maybe a dozen other kids there, but only two camp councilors, so it's super easy for Jazz to sneak out of there. Danny, of course, is super mad that she doesn't take him with her, but as the elder, the 12 to his 9, she refuses to risk him in the dangerous metafilled Jump City.

This ghost hunting camp is what sparks Jazz's bitter, teenage rebellion. SHE wanted to go to a psychology camp; she'd even picked one out in Florida, only a few miles away from a space program for Danny. But noooooo, Dad had found a dirty, ripped pamphlet for Spooky Ghost Camp and signed them both up, without. even. asking. At least Danny's well looked after, being the youngest kid at camp, but that gives Jazz free time.

and in her free time, she fixates on one of her first obsessions: the psychology of superheroes.

Not sure how Jazz would get the Red X suit; she'd have to learn that Robin was Red X, then steal it, and I'm not sure how'd she'd accomplish that. But she's a smart, independent child badass, I'm sure she figured it out.

Every year her parents sent her and Danny to that damn ghost camp. Every year, Jazz put on the Red X suit and tormented the Teen Titans. She couldn't dye her hair, or sneak out at night, but she had crime. Robin gets his first bisexual crisis because of her bantering/flirting with him.

Eventually Danny finds out she's Red X and is thrilled. His sister can beat up the Teen Titans, it's so cool. Maybe in the future, Jazz can steal the Pink X suit from the Teen Titans Go comics so Danny can join in the fun, have some fun gender shenanigans for them both to have alteregos that are the opposite gender.

The reason why I thought of thsi au is because I keep reading "Danny is a thief in Gotham" type stories (which are EXCELLENT) and I can't stop imagining this specific scene: Thief Danny is cornered by the batfam, about to be caught, when out of nowhere... *spanish guitar* Red X comes to save the kid. No one knows who this guy is except for Nightwing, who seems to automatically hate this guy who's... flirting with him? Is this a Cat Woman situation? This sounds like a Cat Woman situation.

Also, not sure which I like better:

For Jazz to fill out on her chest, but keep the male voice of Red X, leading to some gender confusion.

For Red X to become less of an addition to Jazz as it is part of her core personality. She is just as much Red X as she is Jazz, so when her chest comes in, she thinks "hmm, don't like that" and gets top surgery.

bc Jazz? Still totally into the Red X game even as an adult. She even found a similar ghost hunting camp in Bloodhaven after Robin went solo. She hadn't even graduated high school yet, but her favorite hobby is tormenting this one superhero. She bats at him like a cat with a spider.

[witchofthesouls]

I just read your seeker bird kiddo (Jack) and Truck dad Optimus adventures and I beg for more content, I adore it all and the spOoky cryptic parts are 👌

👁️👄👁️

Jack accidentally triggers mechs’ protective instincts because he makes baby bird noises to mimic the local corvids. It doesn't help that Jack parks himself at the entrance to the Ark and plays games with the more playful blackbirds. Dadimus is very much used to Jack’s imitations, the rest of the Autobots (and his counterpart) are most definitely not.

The chirping and screes are reminiscent of newsparks’ calls for attention and care, and it drives the resident Seekerkin up the wall because he is the only sparkling in the vicinity and Jack punches the Seekerkin-coding into activity after four million years of dormancy.

There have been a few jokes to take a recording of the sparkling’s noises and play it to the Decepticon Seekers after the Autobots had seen their own Seekerkin with the kid. TFP Optimus is immediately No. Stop. Control, Alt, and Delete that terrible plan. He will take Jack and run into the most remote environments he can find.

No one knows how Jack did it, but the blackbirds got into gambling, and everyone blames Smokescreen. 

He's partly to blame with the cards, but the dice is Bluestreak's fault.

Jack is a polite menace. The kid knows his manners, but that doesn't stop him from skipping up the walls, hanging on the ceiling, and popping into places that he shouldn't have access to. At all.

Mechs were confused why Dadimus pinged out so often but then realized that's the most reliable way to actually tag Jack as he's a slippery little thing. Sometimes the sparkling responds, but usually he doesn't.

Red Alert is on the verge of having an aneurysm since Jack can bypass all the security measures. Mechs have taken to looking up to see if Jack is trapezing on the panels or checking under the tables and desks because of near unfortunate incidents of almost shooting the kid or shock-related delays with time-sensitive chemical reactions that nearly turned the ship into a massive crater.

Dadimus was highly disappointed and upset by the last part as Jack knows better as he had done similar stunts when they were upon research vessels. Not only Jack had to apologize to Skyfire, Wheeljack, and Perceptor, but he wasn't allowed to stray from Dadimus' field for a month. ("Curiosity cannot override safety protocols.")

On one camera, Jack would be at a corner by the entrance with organic birds, and between blinks he would then disappear and reappear across the ship, talking excitedly to a random corner with a different group of birds.

(If anyone catches them at the right second, at the right angle, at the right frame... the raven/crow/jackdaw/jay will ripple. Feathers dripping and flowing like an inky waterfall and eyes splitting into multiple, countless pairs as Jack's shadow expands- And then, the watcher will blink because they have to, and the footage will reset. Devoid of Jack and blackbirds.)

There's talk about new cryptids going around. It's silly Halloween and superstitious nonsense… until it isn't.

Due to Smokescreen, Bluestreak, and the Aerialbots constantly monitoring the perimeter or setting traps that are becoming more elaborate each week, it's becoming a new running joke. It's the Autobot snipe-hunting. All because of Jack's devoted drawings of strange, contorted creatures.

They're adamant that something is outside.

(They’re right).

An eerie thing begins to appear at the nearby dunes by the Ark’s entrance. It’s vaguely canine and its size is constantly changing. They can smell a wildfire in the air and taste ash upon their tongues as it beckons them to follow with a heavy, burning gaze. 

Before anyone follows, a racket of shrieking blackbirds breaks them out of the trance. When the piercing noise fails, then a nasty peck to some skin or exposed protoform is enough to bring them back to their senses.

“It’s looking for something that can’t be regained,” Jack speaks with a keenness beyond his age and a lilting cadence. A flurry of pictures of the same dark canine by a campfire with multiple individuals and groups sitting by it. It remains unchanged, despite the others’ fashions and vehicles it managed to beckon to it. “Don’t be taken by its ancient sorrow. You won’t escape its grasp.”

Between the space of desert and forest, there’s an old barbwire fence and a seemingly endless dusty dirt road that has never been updated to proper asphalt, despite its existence for over a century and all the grumbles and complaints by humans and Cybertronians.

When it rains, a phantom of a massive stag appears. Dark and regal, it gently trods along the path, always towards the forest, never in the opposite direction. Perched upon its twisted antlers is an owl with multiple wings, spread out and spotted with many painted eyes, a feathered and watchful halo with a cry that echoes in everyone’s ears and audials. It leaves no tracks, just deep puddles with flickering shapes in its vast depths that immediately dry when people look away.

The mechs start to understand that the local humans’ grumblings and complaints are half-hearted, and when it starts to drizzle, everyone stays inside. 

“It’s older than all those that vaguely remember its beginnings,” Jack murmurs to a window full of drawings in the condensation, sleepy in the colder weather as he curls in a heated seat. “Dreaming and wandering, yet always returning to the place that crowned it King.”

[kennico]

a lister dedicated post… it was very well needed

[hangfiretales]

💙Rare Birds is available to preorder!💙

My queer fantasy series is now a thing!! I've been literally writhing with impatience to share this- and here it is, Book #1 of Hangfire.

What is it?

Rare Birds is adult historical fantasy, 344pp.

What's the plot?

As 1920s London swelters in the grip of Egyptomania, archaeology student Rom Godden uncovers a deadly family legacy. Along with her dearest friend, Rom joins forces with her sceptical brother to navigate an underworld of shapeshifters and blood magic. Deception stalks their path. Their precocious young stepbrother hides secrets of his own. If everyone plays for themselves, who can be trusted? One wrong choice could threaten everyone she loves, and Rom will have to bargain for her freedom as she confronts the truth of her inheritance: every promise has its price.

What's the vibes?

🗝 gratuitous historical references (you know my MO at this point)

🗝 chaos bisexuals (multiple). One of them wears a cravat

🗝 bonus sibling drama

Print or Digital?

Both! They'll be released on July 25 but they're up for presale now from Bookshop.org and everywhere else.

Advance copy giveaways will be happening over the next few months so sign up for the newsletter or keep an eye out here for that!

[marley-manson]

Well I succumbed and watched the Pilot and first ep of Due South last night.

Really struck me how central the theme of Fraser's estrangement from his father is in the Pilot. Fraser mentioning that the last time they spoke was Christmas, essentially saying that the only times they speak are presumably brief calls at holidays. Gerard responding with a platitude - "I guess the more you know someone, the less needs to be said" - but it becomes quite clear that Fraser feels he doesn't know Bob at all, and has to learn about him through his journals.

And yet they're cut from the same cloth: "I always thought your father was the last of a kind. I was wrong - you are." And this is tied to the mountie stereotype lol.

Bob and Fraser both repeat the lines, "You're going to shoot a mountie? They'll hunt you to the ends of the earth," and they're both wrong. No one wants to pursue Bob Fraser's death except Fraser, and no one's happy with Fraser for solving the case because it uncovered corruption. He gets exiled for it. Bob and Fraser are the only mounties who "always get their man," lol, and it's because of Bob's neglect in the course of duty that Fraser follows in his footsteps and becomes so similar to Bob. He idealizes his father and wanted to grow up to be just like him - we can see that admiration in the drawing of him he finds in Bob's things that he made when he was a child eg, or in the song Superman that plays while Fraser reads his journal in the diner. But he doesn't know him. And he pursues duty above all else because he has nothing else of his father.

And then you have Ray, who seems to exist as the opposite of Bob. If there's one thing Ray is, it's there. He is there for Fraser to hunt down suspects, to invite him to a loud family dinner, to save him from an explosion, he tracks him down to apologize for being dismissive, to invite him to dinner, and he flies to the Yukon when he can't reach him by phone. In the diner scene in particular he's directly positioned as a contrast to Bob's absence both in life and death. Fraser is alone trying to understand his father through his journals (looking for something "he missed" ie his dad), and Ray joins him, ending the thematically significant song montage, and eases his solitude. Fraser says he doesn't have family, and Ray shares his own with him.

And after the pilot case, there's nothing drawing them together except friendship. They're not a mismatched pair of cops assigned together who have to learn to get along, they work together unofficially because they can't help but spend every waking moment together.

Bob represents absence and Ray represents presence, distant admiration vs actually knowing someone.

And I'll probably have more to say on that as like, poles Fraser is caught between, if/as I rewatch more of the show. Ray's position is a little muddy especially because pre VS he buys into Fraser's image to an extent, as pointedly examined in Heaven and Earth. But again, more on that another time.

[luzzarm]

Mad's Updated Comic Strip Heroes from MAD Magazine #122 — October 1968

DEAN MARTIN as the comic character Li'l Abner in the second pic, omg 😭💕

[drawthething]

Also a doodle art for those who also think the goose episode is hella underrated 🤟

Aaanyway imagine this: Jimmy Jr. Bruce the Goose. They're mortal enemies.

Make sense? Make sense.