sharp teeth fish

Lunar Sirens


(I astral journeyed for this meeting) 

I came upon a group of entities that sat by rocks near the edge of a harbor. The sirens mingled underneath an old pier post protruded from the dark, tumultuous water. I decided to sit on the post, though I could barely fit on it, so that I could speak with the sirens from a safe distance. They didn’t pay me any mind until I spoke up. “Are you lunar sirens?” I asked, the twinkling stars in their dark feathers that lined their arms and their white hair that beautifully glowed like moonlight made me come to that assumption. “Yes,” one answered without looking at me. She was untangling seaweed out of her hair with a small comb. “Might I have an interview?” I asked. She glanced up at me and then quickly returned to what she’s doing after saying, “For a song.”

“You’re going to sing to me….?” I questioned, wanting to clarify what she meant. I’ve never heard of people singing to sirens before after all. “No, you’ll sing to us,” she replied plainly. The other sirens didn’t seem too invested in our conversation as they were braiding each others’ hair or just lounging about in chat amongst themselves. “I’m not much of a singer,” I told the siren who had now stopped brushing her hair. “No song, no interview,” she said as she turned away. For a moment I saw her legs which were covered in dark green scales, almost giving her the appearance of having a fish/mermaid tail. I asked her what song she’d be interested in. “Any song,” she replied.

Alright then. I manifested a guitar and strummed it to see if it worked. That seemed to catch the attention of the other sirens who were now looking at me expectantly. I couldn’t sing, I couldn’t play guitar but what I could do is try to channel a song through me. I pulled up a song on my laptop with my physical body and played it. I let the energies of the song into me and directed it at my astral body. The song was translated into my astral body’s singing and guitar playing. Besides a few mistakes due to glitches in the connection, I wasn’t half bad! The sirens giggled when I shakingly began or whenever I had a misstep but there wasn’t any booing. They murmured about topics that the song made them think of such as railroads, Oregon, and California. None of them clapped when I was done but they didn’t throw things at me either.

“Another song,” the siren that I was talking to earlier demanded. I shook my head, “You said a song for an interview. I will not perform another song until you give me the interview.” I really just didn’t want to make a fool of myself again. “Oh we’ll give you the interview, just give us another song,” she pressed. “I’ll give you another song after you give me the interview,” I countered. She lazily rolled around on the rock, “But why must we give you an interview?” I considered leaving but decided to talk just a bit more, “For I gave you the song as agreed upon.” She gave me a coy look, “But you could give us another song out of niceness?” Her batting eyelashes didn’t sway me, “After the interview,” I returned.

She sat back up and crossed her arms, “Strong arming us into this? That’s not very nice. We’re just some sweet girls looking for a nice time,” she kicked her feet in the water, “Why don’t you come swim with us?” I hope I didn’t look that stupid. “No,” I said. She slid into the water and appeared right next to the post that I was sitting on. “Well then let us give you a song. You can learn a lot from our music,” she offered while looking up at me. “I won’t listen to any song of yours,” I replied. She violently splashed the water, “How rude! Our songs are of the beautiful lunar world! Do you really want to miss out on that?”

“The lunar world, huh?” I asked, “Is that what differentiates you from normal sirens?” She gracefully spun in a circle, “Oh yes! We sing the ancient tunes of the moon. The beautiful call of her white [presence]. You should listen to it, I can sing for you.” I asked another question, “Is the kind of music that you listen to similar to what you sing?” She shook her head, “No, we listen to a lot. There’s always more to learn,” I got mental impressions of harps and other symphonic instruments as being their favorites. “Would you like to hear how I’ve integrated new forms of music into our call?” she offered again. “Do you sing for humans a lot?” I mainly asked this question to gauge how much of active predators they are. “Yes. They’re usually not this difficult,” she snided. I noticed that she was slowly climbing up the post. “What can I say? (I forgot to write down what i said here :V)”, I replied.

Her voice came out agitated, “Well if that’s true, then wouldn’t you like to learn from our voices?” I don’t get the chance to answer that question for she grabs one of my feet, tightly gripping my ankle in her cold hand. I tore my foot out of her grasp and stood up, almost losing my balance and falling backwards into the ocean. That would have been bad! Seemingly relenting, she slided down the post a bit. “Do you usually take offerings of songs like you did with me?” I asked as if nothing just happened. Not going to lie, that question was partly a “Haha, nice try”.

This time, her words were a vicious growl, “Quit evading our song,” she snapped, “I’ll pull you under with or without it!” She pushed off the post and catapulted toward me. I threw my guitar at her in defense but she bursted through it, breaking it into pieces. She slammed her clawed hands down on the top of the post, sending splinters flying into the raging waters below. But I had already leaped away. Before absconding I took one last look at her: her completely black eyes, like never ending voids, and the sharp fish teeth in her panting mouth made her look more beast than beautiful.  


Bestiary - Bogfisher

The bogfisher prefers dim, damp environments such as swamps, marshes, and cave systems. Loose skin, many-toed feet, and needle-sharp teeth have given the bogfisher a dark reputation. More than one tale exists in which a foolish child is pulled beneath the murky waters and then torn apart by the vicious monster. Of course, these tales are mere flights of fancy. In truth, the bogfisher is a shy creature that uses its sharp teeth to catch fish, eels and frogs.

Yas more Mabel!

This time Monsterfalls AU stuff. I like her as an aquatic monster but instead of a mermaid more as a mercentaurn (that’s the word?), to make her more alike to Dipper.

Also, as I said, i would like her to struggle a little more with her transformation, so when she gets mad, she will have this sharp teeth like a rape fish. Also her song will attract people but to eat them.

(she doesnt like that. Dipper is the first one in the list and the only one who can stop her. Grunkle Stan was the 2nd, and Mabel almost lost her teeth that day)

It’s a bird, It’s a plane, It’s a plesiosaur!

Plesiosaurs, a group related to lizards, lived in the sea. Although plesiosaurs were not dinosaurs, they became extinct at the end of the Cretaceous, 65 million years ago, at the same time as the non-avian dinosaurs. Plesiosaurs had powerful swimming muscles attached to their expanded shoulder and pelvic bones, and they used their flippers to swim. 

This Fossil Friday is Thalassomedon haringtoni, a long-necked plesiosaur with a relatively small head and many sharp teeth for seizing fishes and other marine animals. This long, flexible neck, with as many as 70 vertebrae, probably helped in grasping such rapidly moving prey. 

Find Thalassomedon swimming overhead in the Hall of Vertebrate Origins

Image: AMNH/M.Shanley

The hurt child will bite you.
The hurt child will turn
into a fearsome creature
and bit you where you stand.

The hurt child will grow a skin
over the wound you have given it
– or not given, because the wound
is not a gift, a gift is accepted
freely, and the child had no choice.

It will grow a skin over the wound,
the hoarded wound, the heirloom wound
you have pried out of yourself like a bullet
and implanted in its flesh –
a skin a hide a pelt
a scalded rind,
and sharp fish teeth
like a warped baby’s –
and it will bite you

and you will cry foul
as is your habit
and there will be a fight
because you’ll take the fight out of the box
labelled Fights you keep so carefully stored
against emergencies, and this is one,

and the hurt child will lose the fight
and it will go lurching off
into the suburbs, and it will cause
panic in drugstores and havoc
among the barbecues
and they will say Help help a monster
and it will get into the news

and it will be hunted
with dogs, and it will leave a trail
of hair, fur, scales, and baby teeth, and tears
from where it has been ripped
by broken glass and such

and it will hide in culverts
in toolsheds, under shrubs,
licking its wound, its rage,
the rage you have it
and it will drag itself to the well

the lake the stream the reservoir
because it is thirsty
because it is monstrous
with its raging thirst
which looks like spines all over it

and the dogs and the hunters will find it
and it will stand at bay
and howl about injustices
and it will be torn open
and they will eat its heart

and everyone will cheer,
Thank god that’s over!

And its blood will seep into the water
and you will drink it every day.

—  The Hurt Child by Margaret Atwood from The Door