Legends say that hummingbirds float free of time, carrying our hopes
for love, joy and celebration. Like a hummingbird, we aspire to hover
and savor each moment as it passes; embrace all that life has to offer
and to celebrate the joy of every day. The hummingbird’s delicate
grace reminds us that life is rich, beauty is everywhere, every
personal connection has meaning and that laughter is life’s sweetest
creation. –Papyrus
I…Ah…hmm.
Look, it’s a great photo. The photographer kicked butt. They should be very proud of this photo.
But hummingbirds are not carrying your hopes for joy around. I am sorry. Have you met hummingbirds? Hummingbirds believe strongly that they should be eighteen feet tall and have flamethrowers. They are a half ton of pugnacious wrapped up in a half ounce of feathers. Given the choice, hummingbirds would fly around with “Ride of the Valkyries” blasting out of tiny speakers on their wings, putting the eyes out of their enemies.
They do not fear humans, but if they learn that humans will provide feeders, they will become very demanding. They are fiercely territorial. They are…kind of jerks, actually.
Also, there are papers indicating that female hummingbirds engage in what can only be termed “nectar-based prostitution” where they trade sexual favors to males in return for access to particularly rich nectar sources.
If your hopes for love involve nectar and your hopes for joy involve crushing your foes, seeing them driven before you, hearing the lamentations of their nestlings, etc, then possibly the hummingbird may carry them around, otherwise…uh…have you considered vultures? Vultures are very pleasant, affectionate, and social birds. You should probably give them your hopes and dreams. They would be better at it.
Did I mention it’s a great photo?
VULTURES, NOW.
this is Jack.
Jack (full name: Jack Sparrow) lives at the Hawk Conservancy. (He’s missing some toes because he was rescued from Vulture Smugglers.)
When you interact with Jack, you can tell he’s at about the level of … something between a ferret and a dog. Funny short little attention span, and a weird face to look at, but a human reads him as curious, friendly and interested in people.
When you meet a working vulture, you realize that they are definitely a wild predatory animal and very instinctive, but with a
consciousness that extends to interest in their surroundings; like, he’s
very much focused on THE SNACK, but before and after the SNACKTIME he
also wants to have a chat about your day and look at your face and peer into your camera and ask to look at the pictures you took and then say “hey now take one where I’m doing duckface” and you’re like “ok Jack go ahead”
Contrast with owls, which are typically pretty, but which are basically as interactive as a pop-up ad. They exist to land on things and eat them. They are not complicated. Vultures are hey-whatcha-doin. They’re yeah I’m a psychopomp but my real hobby is DJ-ing. They’d like to couchsurf next time they’re in town. You’d let them.
I would give Jack my dreams to carry. He would hold them well, in his big black lovely inky eyes, in his broken gentle feet.
Design, patterns and sewing made by me. The dress is renaissance inspired, with some personal modifications. The whole dress was hand sewn, including the hems. More pictures of it and a tutorial can be found on my blog.
I can’t even begin to express how beautiful this is
researching 17th century piracy tonight. came across this:
One popular pastime amongst pirates was the mock trial. Each man played a part be it jailer, lawyer, judge, juror, or hangman. This sham court arrested, tried, convicted, and “carried out” the sentence to the amusement of all. (x)
how widespread could this have really been? how would it have gotten passed from ship to ship? can you imagine a pirate crew at a tavern, bragging to another pirate crew about how good they are at playing pretend? why was their go-to game “legal system”? were they performing incisive satire? is this some sort of pirates-only inside joke that’s been lost to the ages?
update: the mock-charge in the mock-trial was piracy
Poems: What do you think Steve Rodgers does when he finds phone numbers in his back pocket?
Underhill: He calls the number and politely turns the person down.
Poems: Oh my god.
-All My Friends Are Deeeeeeeaaaaaaaaddddd: An autobiography by Steve Rogers.
-Steve: Hello new friend Sam!! Please god be my new not dead friend.
-Peggy/Steve conversation always makes me cry.
-Peggy, Maria Hill, Sharon Carter, Natasha, the female veteran at The VA hospital……this list makes me happy.
-Hey Bucky,with freedom comes haircuts….or at the very least shampoo. Just think about it.
-“But who would buy two packs of bubble gum?! This plan was full proof!” – Steve Rogers Inner Monologue
-I have no interest in shipping wars, but I’m totally here for Natasha’s arrow necklace coming from Clint. As either a friendship token or romantic one. A symbol of her going “straight” as an arrow.
-I can’t decide if Natasha or Sam is my favorite addition to this movie.
-In interviews Chis Evans says Steve and Peggy probably didn’t bang. Haylee Atwell thinks they did.
Peggy: Steve, take off your clothes.
Steve: But Peggy! We’re not yet wed! Our chaperone surely won’t agree to this!
Bucky: I’m cool with it.
-It kills Nat that Fury didn’t trust her. You can see it in her face.
-Tech:Mission Report
Bucky: I think I used to bang that guy on the bridge. Thoughts?
-Do you think any of the mind control they used on Bucky involved Steve? Skinny or otherwise?
-Maria Hill calls Cap “Steve”. Fic where they hang out.
A sorcerer with a speech impediment summons a demon with similar verbal difficulties. Anger and animosity over being brought into this world softens and an unlikely relationship is formed. Hand sigils and sign language are used to communicate when tongues fail.
A skeleton wanders in the forest, swearing as it gets tangled in low hanging branches. In times of rain, it relishes the clean feeling as water scrubs it outside-in. It is occasionally chased by hungry wolves.
A sentient cottage cares for a heartbroken witch. Shadowy hands remove her hat and hang it on a peg by the door. They dry her cheeks, fix her a meal. A fire blazes welcomingly in the hearth and a grimore is set in a chair. Blankets are fetched. All she need do is sit, and read, and mend.
A pair of socks, mended by eldritch forces, gain sentience (though fortunately lack the ability to smell). With practice, they are able to shift their design and color. Throughout the ages, they witness the rise and fall of countless empires. Occasionally one gets lost in the laundry, causing the other to inspire grand acts of villainy and heroism to search out it’s lost partner.
Title: A Wing And A Prayer Rating: PG Summary: Tony Stark doesn’t do anything ordinarily, including pet ownership. Notes: This originated here. I can’t really explain the rest. The Lovelace Masterpost is here, maybe one of you knows why all this happened.
***
It was a quiet night at the Millville Bird Sanctuary just outside New York city, the night it happened. Not unexpected, this late in the year; in spring and summer and even early autumn they did a brisk business for a bird sanctuary, but even a brisk business wasn’t much, comparatively speaking. Dr. Nathalia was only on the overnight shift because there were campers out in the sanctuary, on a “night watch” with one of the docents, and someone had to stick by the phone in case of emergency.
Then, around eleven, hell briefly broke loose.
“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” was the first she heard, and she heard it moving towards the front door of the single building that comprised the sanctuary’s visitor’s center, clinic, and storage shed. They did get people who’d been in car accidents once in a while, so she was rising and reaching for her phone when a man burst through the unlocked door, covered in blood and feathers, and yelled “I NEED A BIRD DOCTOR!”
The second thing he yelled was “I DIDN’T HIT IT WITH MY CAR!”
Kimchi and Justice 