What was that?
This is an excellent game and I am so pumped for Zubmariner DLC. How many more ways can you die under the water than on the surface???
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#Sunless Sea #non-fandom #is it a fandom? #it's not in Yuletide #gamesMore you might like
In the early mornings, the majestic bin chicken tends to its crops. #ibispridecoalition #binchicken #ibis #australia (at Gold Coast, Queensland)
Sea otters and giant river otters are like if someone got two artists to design a giant otter, but ended up with two very different ideas on what they should look like cause one draws hello kitty fanart and the other was a nihilist.
Anonymous asked:
Opinion on the capuchinbird?
dimetrodone answered:
It looks like a baby bird popping it’s head out of an old fruit
OKAY BUT YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY MISSING THE BEST PART OF THIS BIRD:
YOU GUYS YOU GUYS YOU GUYS
I FOUND MY PATRONUS ANIMAL! MEET…. THE SHAME-FACED CRAB:
JUST LOOK AT THAT FACE:
IT IS CLEARLY NERVOUS AROUND EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING AND WAITING FOR SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN
LOOK AT THEM AWKWARDLY SCUTTLING OUT OF A SOCIAL SITUATION:
LOOK AT THEM HARRUMPHING AT BEING TOLD ATTENDANCE AT A GATHERING IS MANDATORY:
LOOK AT THEM BURROW AWAY FROM THEIR PROBLEMS, PRETENDING THEY DON’T EXIST:
I LOVE YOU, CRAB OF SHAME!
Pelagic red crabs are making themselves at home in their new exhibit!
Also known as tuna crabs, these crimson crustaceans washed up en masse in Monterey Bay during the 2015 El Niño.
1830s youth cultures in France
God just imagine walking the streets in 1830s France, rounding a corner and coming across a slick gang of gentlemen and ladies, all with forked beards and satin and leather outfits. They eye you lazily, like crocodiles, as you step into the alley. One is ironically playing the ukelele, the jangling notes tapering off menacingly as their attention fixes on you.
“Oh no,” you say, grabbing your companion’s arm, “Bouzingos!”
“Oh look,” says the ukelele player. “Some grocers.”
“We don’t want any trouble,” your companion says, backing away.
Snickers and sneers ripple through the surrealist gang. One of the Bouzingos takes out a croissant and bites it right in half. Another smokes a cigarette with their ear. One of them is a lobster.
“Have you culturally appropriated any tchotchkes recently?” One of them jeers.
“We’re sorry,” you apologise, “we’ll be going now.”
You and your companion stumble back into the street, dragging each other.
“these gangs are really getting out of hand,” your companion says weakly. “Do you think we’re… infected?”
You shiver. For a moment, vague longings and inconsolable regrets assail you. You feel moved to contribute to the discourse. Anxieties flicker across your heart. But the moment passes.
“No,” you say. “I think we got away clean.”
having been reading Dumas this is AMAZING
hannelore-grace
