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roseembolism) wrote2018-10-28 02:38 am
roseembolism) wrote2018-10-28 02:38 am
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(Repost) Twenty-third Minor Spirit of October: Blame it on the Frogs
Reposted from...elsewhere.
Twenty-third Minor Spirit of October
Blame it on the Frogs
Instead of Inktober, I'm doing a spirit a day for October.
Oh, so you HAVEN’T heard of the Green Lady of Lily Pond. Well. It’s a sad story.
When the lakes were sculpted for Golden Gate Park, she was happy to take up residence at Lily Pond. Though not the largest, people agreed that it was possibly the most beautiful bit of water in the city. Turtles sunned themselves on rocks, ducks paddled across the water, koi fish glided among the cattails. It seemed the perfect place for a spirit to begin her legend.
And it was. For a while, anyway.
There was something about the drainage, or the amount of sunlight, or SOMETHING off with the pond, that made things go wrong. Duckweed, and then algae covered it in a stinking green mat. Fish died, the ducks left, and people either hurried by or dumped trash into it.
And then there were the frogs. Oh Goddess, the frogs.
These weren't the cute little local peepers. These were African Clawed Frogs, huge with clawed legs, and a voracious appetite. Some idiot scientist dumped them in the pond after a research project went wrong, and they bred and multiplied. They ate the remaining fishes and turtles and everything else, and then started eating each other.
As we are what we eat, spirits are their homes. So as the pond changed, so did she. Her skin turned a mottled green-brown, her eyes became bulging orbs, her body bloated. Her hands and legs stretched out with grasping claws, and her appetite, well, let's not talk about that. From seductive lakeside spirit to a reclusive monster, the subject of late evening drunken nightmares.
Yes she’s miserable. And yes, she’s a danger to herself and others. We’re working on it, OK? We’ve managed to keep the damn toads from infesting the other ponds. We’re working on ways to bring everything back to normal. We’re going to put the pond and its spirit through rehab. It...may involve gallons of bleach. And draining the pond. And. And. And backhoes. We’re not quite sure what it’ll do to her.
That’s why for once we’re taking our time. Planning things out. Doing careful surveys. There’s no rush. I mean, we’ve kept her from devouring anyone. So far. We think.
So do you know where we can rehouse a few thousand frogs?
Twenty-third Minor Spirit of October
Blame it on the Frogs
Instead of Inktober, I'm doing a spirit a day for October.
Oh, so you HAVEN’T heard of the Green Lady of Lily Pond. Well. It’s a sad story.
When the lakes were sculpted for Golden Gate Park, she was happy to take up residence at Lily Pond. Though not the largest, people agreed that it was possibly the most beautiful bit of water in the city. Turtles sunned themselves on rocks, ducks paddled across the water, koi fish glided among the cattails. It seemed the perfect place for a spirit to begin her legend.
And it was. For a while, anyway.
There was something about the drainage, or the amount of sunlight, or SOMETHING off with the pond, that made things go wrong. Duckweed, and then algae covered it in a stinking green mat. Fish died, the ducks left, and people either hurried by or dumped trash into it.
And then there were the frogs. Oh Goddess, the frogs.
These weren't the cute little local peepers. These were African Clawed Frogs, huge with clawed legs, and a voracious appetite. Some idiot scientist dumped them in the pond after a research project went wrong, and they bred and multiplied. They ate the remaining fishes and turtles and everything else, and then started eating each other.
As we are what we eat, spirits are their homes. So as the pond changed, so did she. Her skin turned a mottled green-brown, her eyes became bulging orbs, her body bloated. Her hands and legs stretched out with grasping claws, and her appetite, well, let's not talk about that. From seductive lakeside spirit to a reclusive monster, the subject of late evening drunken nightmares.
Yes she’s miserable. And yes, she’s a danger to herself and others. We’re working on it, OK? We’ve managed to keep the damn toads from infesting the other ponds. We’re working on ways to bring everything back to normal. We’re going to put the pond and its spirit through rehab. It...may involve gallons of bleach. And draining the pond. And. And. And backhoes. We’re not quite sure what it’ll do to her.
That’s why for once we’re taking our time. Planning things out. Doing careful surveys. There’s no rush. I mean, we’ve kept her from devouring anyone. So far. We think.
So do you know where we can rehouse a few thousand frogs?