luminary gardens

Do you ever think about how mythical and godlike Murderbot must be to the other rogue secunits in Platform Decay? More importantly do you think they all have a crush on it??? *murderbot shoots me with a sniper rifle killing me instantly*

[ID: A Murderbot Diaries comic set in Platform Decay. A Secunit looks out warily before entering a door surrounded by foliage into a room with a poster that says "Welcome to the Rogue Secunits Lair" and a poster with a picture of Three that says "viva la threevolution". It pings another Secunit, who's kicking back on a couch and watching a security feed plus "Human Fails Pt.17" and running lounging.exe. It exclaims, "Hey! You're back early!"

The first Secunit sits down with a perturbed expression, and the second asks, "What's wrong?" The first says, "I..." It turns with a giddy blush and smile. "... I think I just met the rogue Secunit." The second, in shock: "You mean--" The first: "Yeah." The second: "No way."

you encounter a secunit for the first time.

it saves your life in a situation where no one else would have been fast, strong, agile, and composed enough to do so.

your security team is immediately more alarmed by its presence than the attack that is obvious to you as the bigger issue at the moment

they insist it's dangerous and struggle to relax enough to take their weapons off of it

then a combatbot attacks your group

somehow this secunit, much smaller than the bot, unarmored, without any heavy weaponry on its person, manages to take it down. some real jaw-dropping action, all over in less than a minute

then it leaps into a room with two combatbots and not only survives, but it gets your unconscious friend out alive

then it immediately comes to your own rescue, disabling impressive combat armor

it then is dead-set on killing your attacker who is already immobilized and harmless

clearly this is an incredibly competent and dangerous and powerful person

then miki tells you that it IS rin and you finally put it together that not only is this person competent in the field, but it is also calling all its own shots and has truly come here all on its own and volunteered its services to help and protect you without needing to be asked or ordered

so this person is incredibly competent, dangerous, powerful, AND kind, AND fiercely protective, AND reassuring, AND intelligent, AND selfless

and it's still coming up with great ideas and still thinking proactively about how it's going to face down or distract another combatbot as though there's no doubt in the world that it, still bleeding heavily, still unarmored and barely armed, is ready for another round with a terrifying machine that appears to be nothing BUT armor and weapons

so you step forward to help treat its injuries

and it jerks back a step with the single most frightened face you've ever seen, as though you had lifted your arm to inflict pain and it was helpless to stop you

behind you, even miki can read the devastating expression that's breaking your heart and says "abene won't hurt you, secunit"

where did the fearsome fighter from moments ago disappear to?

in which murderbot is a very normal terracotta soldier and ART the dragon spirit of a chinese junk who dwells in the ship's keel. they meet in the ming dynasty perhaps, when ppl are sailing places extra willy-nilly.

*Nüwa is the mother goddess in chinese mythology, known for creating humanity from yellow clay and repairing the sky.

thank you @mutualrapport for hosting the event! original prompt below.

The problem with living right next to a lake/preserve is that when you take your dog out for a midnight potty break, he might end up pooping on a frog. So when you pick up your dog’s poop like a good citizen who doesn’t contribute to waterway pollution, instead of getting a (bag shrouded) handful of poop, you also get a Very Irate Amphibian. Except you don’t, immediately, realize what’s happened. All you know is that there is something Golf Ball sized and Alive in your dog’s excrement, which is, you know. Atypical. So maybe you scream and drop the frog and scare the dog and fumble out your phone for a flashlight and then feel really bad once you’ve realized what’s happened, because not only has this poor frog suffered the indignity of being pooped on, he’s also been dropped from the human equivalent of like, a 10 story building. SO in order to make amends, you dispose of the actual pet waste and then use a fresh bag to pick up the (still very irate, which is fair) frog and carry him to the pool area where there is a spigot, so you can clean him off before returning him to his previous location. And you do all of this barefooted in batman boxers hoping fervently that no one happens upon you and you have to explain the series of events.

Pink noctuid moth (no common name), Philareta treitschkei, Noctuidae

It is found in Turkey, the Caucasus, the Balkans, Iran and the Levant.

Walnut was born in a species-recovery breeding program in the 1980′s.  The program had crane chicks hand-raised by human volunteers, and at that time they did not fully understand the measures necessary make sure that the chicks do not imprint on humans and retain their identity as cranes.  

As a result, her keepers believe, Walnut does not recognize other cranes as members of her own species.  

It has not been proven that Walnut killed her previous suitors; however, there is a persistent rumor in the white-naped-crane-conservation community that she did.  

Because this species is highly endangered, and the gene pool of the captive population is small, it’s pretty important for the survival of her species that Walnut A) mate, and B) not kill a bunch of other cranes.  

The actual name of the keeper is Chris Crowe.

They both arrived at the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute in 2004.   

Walnut immediately began paying special attention to Chris--and ignoring the eligible male crane in a nearby enclosure.  

Walnut initiated their courtship, performing the opening moves of a mating dance.  

Chris realized that if he reciprocated the mating dance, it might be possible to artificially inseminate Walnut with her participation and consent.  (The process normally involves restraining the bird.)  

It worked!  

Chris and Walnut have had five children, who were raised by other crane couples at the facility--sometimes the biological dad and his mate--both because it’s unclear whether Walnut would accept the chicks as her own, and because Chris is not equipped to be a Crane Dad.  

However, the Institute provides her with artificial eggs to sit on, and Chris takes his turn looking after them.  (This would not work with real eggs because he can’t sit on them properly, but Walnut seems to feel that he is on the job if he just stands over them.)

she has not been PROVEN to have killed her exes, but there is a PERSISTENT RUMOR (really officers she's simply DEVASTATED, she sobs, wearing a new feather boa unfortunately resembling her most recent deceased husband)

His name is Chris CROWE. (Mrs. Walnut Crane-Crowe?)

the mental images of a whole human man learning and performing the crane mating dance, and "sitting" on artificial eggs so she thinks he's performing his duties as a husband and father (and apparently OBJECTS if he does not?)

"chris, buddy, you gotta marry the possibly-murderous crane lady for the GOOD OF THE SPECIES." (alternately: "chris, my man! good news! we found you a very interested lady! She's 36, she's very spirited and independent, she holds a very important and rare status in her society! ...Is there a downside? WELL...")

Yesterday, my short story "Reduce, Reuse" was published as part of Why Aren't You Dead Yet?: A Disability In Dystopia Anthology. "Reduce, Reuse" is set in a world where Medical Assistance in Dying has become commonplace, frequently offered to those that society sees as useless. In the midst of all this, Eric just really wants to take a nap.

YOU - "Stop being a b--"

REACTION SPEED [Challenging: Success] - Wait a minute.

DRAMA - Sire, the word you're about to use is historically feminine! Applying it to your transgender child is tantamount to misgendering him.

1. [Suggestion - Legendary 14] Think of a masculine equivalent to "bitch."

Allow me to introduce the new characters:

This piece of lint precious child is Rhombophryne maraorao, a little burrowing species from the northeast of Madagascar. It is very similar ecologically to R. coudreaui, a long-known species from further south. The name maraorao means ‘rough to the touch’ in Malagasy, referring to the rough skin of this species. They do a weird thing where they straighten all of their limbs and go stiff in self defence. Think pumpkin toadlet post-launch mid-air stiffness, but… in the hand?

This beautiful creature is Rhombophryne mavokely, a little leaflitter-dwelling species from the northeast of Madagascar. The name mavokely is the Malagasy word for ‘pink’ but literally translates as ‘small yellow’ (mavo = yellow, kely = small). I LOVE this bizarre etymology, and also this species is small and sometimes pink and sometimes yellowish, so the name seemed extremely apt. This species was the first Rhombophryne I ever saw alive—I caught the first ever specimen immediately underneath my hammock on Marojejy in 2016!

This shiny boy is Rhombophryne sonaliae, a rather well known species from eastern Madagascar that has previously been called R. alluaudi—until we showed in 2019 that the correct use of that name was for a Plethodontohyla alluaudi from southern Madagascar! We dedicated this species to Sonali Garg, in recognition of her fantastic work especially on Asian frogs.

This forbidden truffle is Rhombophryne anatiala, a very poorly known species very closely related to R. sonaliae but found further north and differing subtly. The name anatiala means ‘in the forest’ in Malagasy, referring to the forest habitat of these frogs.

This bumpy beanbag with his go-faster chevron is Rhombophryne kotrobaratra, an interesting species from northeastern Madagascar with rather unusual anatomy, especially its quite long and strong hindlimbs. The name kotrobaratra means ‘thunder and lightning’ in Malagasy, and refers to the inclement weather that seems to bring these frogs out (true for all Rhombophryne, really) .

This coffee bean is Rhombophryne quentini, an orange-thighed species from high-elevation forests in northern Madagascar that resembles R. ellae. Back in 2020 I named R. ellae after my partner, Ella, and I thus took particularly great pleasure in naming this new, closely related species after our four-and-a-half year-old son, Quentin. A little family of frogs. :3

This little pebble is Rhombophryne kilonjy, a small, poorly known and obscure species related to R. ellae and R. quentini but found in lowland forest close to the coast in northwestern Madagascar. The name kilonjy means ‘pebble’ in Malagasy because, well, just look at it.

Even way back in my tumblr posts from 2013 and 2014 I think you would find mentions of the work I had begun on this monograph. I had no notion that it would take more than twelve years to complete. But I cannot express my joy at finally being able to share these charming, round frogs with the world. I hope you approve of the names!