A Little More Progress On Attic Dragon.

A little more progress on attic dragon.

Oooooh, what are they with?

They're one of my favourite foods especially with mushroom sauce.

Cabbage Rolls - 😍😍🤤

These look ssoooo good. But I have no idea how idea how I'd bite into one.

GROUND BEEF TOSTADAS 🤤🤤

Don't

Don't

Croc colours and patterns

Somewhat inspired by a recent post by Joschua Knüppe, I feel like it's a good thing to remind people just how diverse colours and patterns in modern crocodilians are. When I see people make art, it often seems to stick to grey or yellowish-brown tones, which is of course not incorrect. But theres a lot of, imo, underappreciated variety still. It's also worth noting beforehand that patterns are most striking in younger individuals and naturally become more muddy the older and larger an animal becomes. But as you will see, even some decently large and old animals may maintain a striking appearance.

Take this alligator for example. Gators tend to be on the darker side, dark greys to black, sometimes countershaded and sometimes pretty consistent. Some individuals, like this one photographed by Gar Luc, still retain clearly visible stripe patterns from when they are younger.

Or take one of my favourite species, the Cuban Crocodile, which can appear almost bright yellow with a dense pattern of leopard spots. Of course like with the gator you can find individuals that are much more drab, with washed out colours, but individuals with clearly defined patterns still exist.

Then there's gharials of course. They can range quite a bit in colouration. They can be brown, especially younger ones and females and I've seen males range in colour from a drab grey to almost a light blue or even something that could be described as metalic black.

Black Caimans are also pretty interesting in my opinion and pretty easy to tell apart from other species once you pay attention to their colour. They are primarily a deep dark black of course, but what sets them apart from spectacled and other caimans is that very fine pattern of thin white stripes across the flanks that creates this beautiful contrast. They can also have patches of brown like the one on the right.

Orinocos also vary a great deal. Tho I know less about them than I wish I did, I know that individuals can range from drab brownish greys to yellow to somewhat earthy browns that almost range into reds.

The next ones a bit of an outlier. There are specific cave dwelling dwarf crocodile populations in western Africa with striking orange colouration. Tho this one is not exactly natural pigmentation to my knowledge and instead the result of the chemicals present in the water they inhabit, brought there by bat guano. Still very pretty animals.

And then there's Paleosuchus, the dwarf caiman which contains two species. Again highly varied. The first image, which I believe is a Schneider's dwarf caiman, shows a very earthy brown. The others, which unless I'm mistaken are Cuvier's dwarf caimans, show colours ranging from dark with a rusty head, black to this still beautifully patterned individual. Of course these variations are also subject to change with age.

While salties aren't exactly known to be the most vibrant, I'd be remissed if I didn't mention this specific one. It's kept in a zoo in Germany and has this almost bizarre colour combination of creamy white underbelly and chocolate brown top which I've never seen in another saltwater crocodile. Photos by my friends Markus Bühler from the Bestiarium blog and René Dederich

Spectacled, Broad-snouted and Yacare caimans I'll give a quick shout out. I think most people are familiar enough with how they look like and while their colours aren't anything special, I still think one should appreciate their patterns of spots and stripes and facial markings.

The last one I wanna highlight is the false gharial, Tomistoma, another one of my favourites. Part of the reason why being its at times beautiful reddish-brown colours.

Could you maybe do a GN!reader with Death (pre relationship) where reader calls him Deathy and the others are surprised he lets them get away with it?

Author's note: This plays into one of my favorite tropes; Gruff old man lets you get away with things no one else can.

Relationships: Death/Gn!Reader (platonic and/or pre-relationship)

Warnings: None

"It might be a bit more comfy on Ruin,"

Strife speaks up and catches you attention, pointing to the Red Rider's massive warsteed with a thumb. Holding onto the saddlehorn of Despair’s tack you look in Ruin’s direction, pondering while Fury watches this interaction with a small amount of amusement. It's better than staring at the trees, for sure.

War, realizing he's suddenly the center focus of three sets of eyes, looks up confused and glances around, but doesn't actually say anything.

"Ya know, with the bigger saddle and all."

Not as if Despair is a small horse by any means, but you wouldn't mind riding on Ruin, if only just for a bit of fun. But before you have the chance to even ask War if he'd let you join him, Death shoots the prospect down with a stern glare in all of your general directions.

Instead of heeding that very obvious warning however, Strife saunters right through it with the nonchalance of a Nephilim who’s done it a million times before.

"Then how 'bout you join me?"

Strife does a little jerk of his head and his shoulders push back just a bit to give him better posture, while he acts as if inviting you to the cool kids table at school. Death however, fed up with having his thinking interrupted as he stares out past the steep overlook and scouts their next move, turns and scowls at Strife with Despair's reins still tightly wound in his right hand.

"Will you stop?"

As if Strife would actually heed Death's warning, he looks over at you, while Fury and War rest on their own horses behind you both. You stay sitting on Despair simply because of the effort required to get on and off the giant horse, and Death considers you safe there. The horse is an extension of himself in a way, and he trusts the steed to keep you safe even if you’re only a meter away. It also helps that it limits your ability to wander off and get into trouble, as you've proven far too curious for your own good multiple times.

"Aww come on, you're really gonna listen to him?"

Death turns at you and give you one look in response to Strife's whine. You have no real desire to go against his wishes just to upset him, even though you know he'd let you ride with one of them anyways. Despair is more than fine, you have no real want to swap horses. You look towards the gunslinger and shake your head in refusal.

"Whatever Deathy wants." Your voice is singsongy and smile sickeningly, saccharine sweet, and you can't help but look down at Death the moment the words leave your mouth.

His glare isn't just sharp, It's hell fire; It would've boiled you alive if you were affected by it.

Instead of calling you out on it however he simply sighs, before looking away from the overlook.

"Let's go."

Death lets go of Despair's reins for a moment as he rounds the shoulder of the horse, but quickly gets stopped by Strife's guffaw. He extends out one arm, pointing at you with an armored finger.

"Woah woah woah; You're just gonna let that slide?" He moves his finger between the two of you, to further point out.

Strife is so clearly smirking behind the mask by the way his eyes and pushed upwards, leaning against Mayhem with arms crossed as if the horse is a wall. Upon hearing Strife call speak up Death bristles, knowing he'd been caught red handed giving you such blatant leniency.

He can even hear Fury snicker, which makes his lips purse tighter together behind his mask. Thank the Creator he wears the ugly thing, he thinks.

That was supposed to be reserved for when no one else is around, but of course he slips up at the worst possible moment.

"It was a momentary lapse in judgement-" Strife scoffs, and you try to snuff a laugh behind your palm. The Reaper turns and points upward at you.

"One more word out of you and I slap this horse's hindquarters and send you straight into whatever realm he wishes to visit."

When you roll your eyes Death grasps the front lip of the saddle, putting a boot in the stirrup and leaning the saddle to one side when he hefts himself up. Once he settles in the saddle behind you he doesn't say a single word, but you can feel his irritation from a league away.

He can feel your contentment as well, watching the scenery pass by as you sit unawares of just how much you'd pointed out his habitual favoritism.