Originally posted on my Xanga.

NOTE: This is a work of fiction. But it is amusing nonetheless.

So, my Whovian brothers and sisters... and other species. Oh, and you non-Whovians as well. I would like to share with you a legend. A myth, if you will. This tale of science and fantasy I bring before you today is the story of Trock.

It is similar to Wrock (Wizard Rock) of the Harry Potter variety, yet this is far much better.

Now, most, if not all Whovians will know of Trock, or rather, the earliest known Trock song from 1988 titled "Doctor'n the Tardis" by KLF under the name The Time Lords.

At the time, there was no such thing as Trock. And then, in 1989... the lights went out. Doctor Who was, dare they say it... was canceled. And with it, this new bastard child of Gallifrey and rock music was aborted... or so they thought...

In reality, the genre lay dormant. For eight years it slept, and it waited. It remained a legend, whispered among circles of nerds in the AV room. A myth, a story passed around in science clubs across the world. Then, in 1996, the kingdom of FOX Broadcasting attempted to ressurect the hero of Gallifrey through a man named Paul McGann. But the world was not ready. For the masses had forgotten the man who saved their planet time and again. They had forgotten the significance of a blue box, and did not understand what to make of the TARDIS dance. They asked themselves "How then, is it bigger on the inside than it is on the outside?"

FOX Broadcasting, suffering failure, did not pursue the ressurection of the Time Lord of Gallifrey. But they had succeeded, in a way. They had unknowingly reminded the world of what was lost, and what could be again. Through this period, the mammoth that was Trock remained asleep, but that sleep had become restless and fitful.

Nine years would pass before Trock would begin to rouse from it's sleep. In 2005, something amazing, something wonderful happened... A man called Russel T. Davies roused the sleeping giant that was Doctor Who. And with it he brought a man with rather large ears called Christopher Eccleston. And thus, the Doctor, the greatest Time Lord to have ever lived. Coincidentally... nine years had passed since the first attempt to bring back the space traveler... and Nine was the number designated to the newest face in the Time Lord's long existence.

This attempt was successful. Not only had Mr. Davies ressurected the Time Lord (and in the process killed off 99% of the alien's species) he had provided the final piece to the puzzle that would bring Trock to the masses. And that piece was called David Tennant.

Now, David Tennant may seem to some to be a mere actor. But he was the new, lovable, and eccentric face of the Doctor for the next 4 years. While this, in itself, seems like little importance to the slightly foggy Trock as it eats it's breakfast upon waking... It is in fact a crucial part of Trock's resurgence. For you see, a certain young Scotsman named Liam would find such a fact frustrating. While at first, it was quite funny, so many users on YouTube left comments for him stating he looked remarkably similar if not exactly like David Tennant. And thus, he made a video commenting on the fact. It was a satire.

Trock, checking YouTube as it was getting dressed for its first outing in 20 years, discovered this, and it amused the genre. Through Mr. Liam, Trock discovered another YouTube user.

And this user was called Nerimon to the YouTube community. Nerimon, inspired by Doctor Who, which now had a firm standing in popular culture once again, wrote a song. That song was called "An Awful Lot of Running." And he posted this song on YouTube.

Trock saw this, and it sat back and thought for a very long time on what to do. And when Nerimon, attempting to find the proper label for his new song, searched google for "Time Lord Rock" he found... Nothing.

Trock had been lost, forgotten. But now it saw its chance. Like the Doctor whom had inspired its creation, it too felt the time had come to resurface.

And thus, the genre was reborn, thanks to some unlikely Doctor Who fans on YouTube. In 2008, these Lords of Trock came together and formed the band Chameleon Circuit.

They wrote and they played, and they worked hard reshaping and reinventing Trock from a bastard child to a mature and wonderful new species...

And in 2009, on June 1, their album was available to the masses.

And thus the legend of Trock was at last reborn.

Chameleon Circuit's album can be found here: http://store.dftba.com/product/chameleon-circuit

You can purchase their Trock album through: iTunes, Amazon.MP3, or the physical CD album. Only the CD has the bonus track "Exterminate, Regenerate [Demo Version]"

just a bit of shameless self promotion.

i have a bit of story up on Fictionpress.com that i wrote a long time ago (roughly 2003-2004 time period)

http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2688478/1/Lost_World_RPC

it's the prequel to my larger work, Project 8-13, which is forever in re-writes. i'm going to be posting the first version, the oldest, more raw writing of mine in that project/universe on FP.

so go, read, and enjoy. and tell me what you think.

mind you, my writing has gotten much better since then. i've learned to use Spell Check (though i choose to ignore that button lol!)

so, i've decided to call a certain collection of stories "The Forever-Man", since they're all centered around my lovely Al, who, unfortunately for him, is immortal. Though, this one doesn't exactly have him in it.

and i'm playing around with names for certain characters.

as always, enjoy.

NOTE: these sort of take place AFTER all of the major action and plot type of stuff.

-----------------------------------

"No... No no no no!" he screamed. "NO!" It was that darkness, that empty place between realms to which he had returned once again. The burning in his flesh was not real, insofar as he knew that his body was only thoughts manifested. Feelings and emotions brought into a familiar illusion so that his sanity may remain intact, for a time.

Quickly, he recalled his final moments before opening his eyes to the darkness of Purgatory once again. He could still feel those hellfire limbs holding him, and see those dimmed green eyes staring down at him in confusion and uncertainty. And the tears...

And the joy. But that joy he felt so strongly inside his heart, burning to his very core was gone now. Replaced with comfort, and a faint sound. Distant, irregular, and somehow peaceful. A heartbeat unlike any other, and after some time, the length of which he was not privy to know, he recognized it to be that of the green-eyed Forever Man.

"He is here."

He turned towards the voice, his ears perked up as he strained to listen again.

"You can sense him, in your own fashion. In mine I can smell whisky in the air. Such a... unique human creation."

He turned a circle, trying to find the source of such a soft, gentle voice. "Where are you?"

"I am everywhere."

"Show yourself!" he demanded, clenching his fists as the heartbeat, that once distant drumming in his thoughts grew stronger, faster.

There was a chuckle. "Calm yourself, child," the voice said in a soothing tone. And upon hearing it, the blue-eyed soul did begin to calm. And the heartbeat began to fade back into a steady hum in the back of his thoughts. It did not dissapear, but remained as a gentle lullabye.

"I am Azrael."

He felt a pull, a panic in his heart. Such a simple statement, a mere name, set into him an instinctual fear. He felt a chill throughout his being, and came to realize a hand was touching him. Clammy, cold. Cold as...

"Yes. And you know why I have come, Aaron."

"That is not my name," he said boldly. "I despise it, just as I despise-"

"God, for having punished you so unjustly."

"Stop doing that!"

He could hear the smile in the voice of Azrael. "I apologize. I do not mean to offend, child. It is merely a... what is that word you mortals are so fond of using? Personality trait? Habit?.... No. Ah, yes. Quirk. I am quite fond of that one myself." He chuckled, and drew his hand away.

The warmth that followed caught the mortal soul by suprise. As he grew accustomed to the feeling once again, he chewed his lip, a nervous tick he supposed. An involuntary response when he would fall into deep thought. Which life had it been when he had last done such a thing?... It was so long ago. It was hazy at best... He spoke, knowing the other already knew his mind, and had read it like an open book.

"You can take me, but you can't have him. Not after what you bastards have put him through."

He could hear Azrael's voice as he spoke quietly to himself. The words he did not understand, but the tone spoke for the meaning well enough.

"I've been prepared for this too many times. Go ahead and take me. I'm ready. I'm done. Just leave him to try again, new and-"

"I have an idea," Azrael interrupted. "If you are up for it."

Once more he felt that cold chill. This time, he braced himself for the quickness with which it spread. He focused on its path, comitting to memory the places where Death would always strike first. "Up for what?" he asked, unable to stop himself from saying them. Were those his words? Or did they belong to the ever growing hellfire burning in the place where he knew his heart should rightly be, if in this place he could claim to have one.

"I am tired of talking to a shadow," Azrael said suddenly. His voice became soft once more as those words which seemed nonsensical to the mortal's ears were spoken.

It was faint, the light. He could not pin down from which direction it had crept upon them from. But he was grateful for such a light in this place of eternal darkness. This waiting room of the damned.

His eyes caught movement, and followed it to see an arm. Fragile, yet he knew it to be quite strong despite. That arm spanned the distance between the hand caressing his own cheek and the lean figure standing in front of him. Such wild hair, and a face that smiled down at him.

He knew that smile. And somehow, he believed, such a smile was shared amongst the hosts of the divine. He had seen it coupled not with sombre grey eyes which looked upon him now, but rather with eyes that shined brilliantly with laughter and excitement; sparkling emerald gems from a face far more handsome than that which belonged to the angel Azrael.

At least, this mortal soul believed it to be far more handsome.

That smile was disarming. Unexpected. And oh so mischevious.

"I was never here," Azrael said carefully.

"What?"

"Simply stated, child," he said. "The angel of death never came to collect you, nor the one you carry inside your heart."

"Can you do that?"

He nodded, his voice taking on a false innocence. "There were so many deaths in that last battle. I may have.... overlooked a few by accident. Working with numbers that large, it can happen." He laughed, and it was a lighthearted sound. "And it's not my fault if those few happen to be a certain four that can't stay out of trouble."

Tyler stared up at him, and could only blink in confusion.

And Azrael pulled his hand away, allowing the warmth within the one he called child to spread throughout once more. "What?" he asked, his angelic voice filled with so very human sarcasm. "You honestly expected me to send the two of you off alone? Preposterous! Where would be the fun in that for me? Besides, if you want that happy ending, you need to do a little something in return."

"Oh no," he replied, shaking his head and holding up his hands to stress his desire to refuse. "I had to sit back and watch the last time someone made a deal with creatures like you. No way. Not going to do it. I have absolutely no intention of living forever, thank you."

"That isn't what I meant," Azrael snapped, slightly offended. But only slightly. He did understand the other's reluctance. "If my records are correct... and they always are, despite the few times I'll accidentally-on purpose overlook little indiscretions, there are two pages of the book in desperate need of repair and revision."

He tried to keep his mouth shut. He tried to understand the subtlties of what Azrael was proposing. However, he found he could not control his mouth and voice, and for a second time words that were not his own erupted forth before considerations could be made. "Where are you going with this, jackass?" Immediately, he clamped a hand over his mouth, and stopped the diarreah of words from going further. After a few moments, and a rather amused chuckle from the angel of death, he sighed. "Sorry. I don't understand what's going on. Something-"

"It appears someone cannot wait his turn to speak."

"Sorry," he repeated.

"Not you," Azrael said, a slender finger prodded his chest, over where his heart should rightly be. Where the warmth had grown and settled into a comfortable, disjointed pulsing sensation. "Him. Please, do try to keep him from forcing you to say stupid things. It is most unbecomming of you."

And Tyler smiled quietly to himself, reaching up to hold his hand against his chest fondly. "I... We'll do it, that is, as long as it does not turn into another of your divine scavenger hunts."

Azrael nodded and held up a hair. "On my honor, you won't have to go hunting for them. They will, in fact, find their own ways to you. Where you will look after them until Raz has finished making the apropriate changes."

 -----------------------------------------------------------

 "Alejandro," he said, sitting up in the bed. "We should move in together."
 "What?"
 "You've been here more than you've been at your own place. It makes

sense."
 "But what about-"
 Kallen cut him off with a laugh. "Don't start. You know I'm right."
 "I don't think we're ready for that."
 "You can't be serious. We've known each other since the school yard days.

And honestly, how often are you actually at your own appartment in any given month?"
 "Well-"
 "And how do you expect to raise up Damien when you're not home half the

time?"
 "My mom helps."
 "You mean your mom is doing your job for you." Kallen shook his head,

throwing back the covers and climbing out of the bed. "You and Damien are moving in

with me and Erick. And you're not going to argue. Besides, it'll be good for the boys to

have someone to play with, and a nice, stable family enviroment."
 Alejandro sighed, nodding. He couldn't argue with Kal. After all, the man

was brutally honest. He pulled the blankets up further, wrapping it around himself to

keep warm in his lover's absence. "Kal, what will I do for work?"
 "You've always wanted to work in a museum, right?" he replied, asking as

he buttoned up his uniform shirt. "You have a doctorate in paleoanthropology. And

you're squandering it away working as a secretary in a... what's that place do again?...."

Kallen turned his head to smile at him. "Ah! That critter cloning place, where they make

the ones we can eat. Never did quite understand that..." It was a goofy, awkward smile,

almost as if it didn't quite belong on his face. "I'll put in a good word for you with the

curator when I see him."
 "Kal, really, you don't have to."
 He strapped on his belt, checking to make sure his flashlight and mace were

in their compartments. "No, but I want to. You deserve it, and it's what you've always

wanted since we were kids." He laughed, going back to the bed to lean in and kiss his

cheek. "When I get back, you'd better be home with Damien and packing your things."
 He felt his face burning, and his mouth a little dry. "This is just so much so

fast. I mean, are you sure? There's barely enough space for you and Erick here. I don't

want to-"
 The taller blond laughed. "I told you, don't start. And stop worrying about

everything."
 "Well excuse me if I can't be as carefree as you are. My brain is fully

functional."
 "Hey!" he laughed, ruffling his lover's hair before stealing another kiss. "You

can mock my off-key singing, and even my creepy late-night muffin baking binges. But

never mock my brain." He smiled that awkward smile again. "It can't understand the

subtle bits."

Summer is finally here! What are your plans?

teaching. making scrapbook samples. more teaching. finding time to go to the park. teaching again. hopefully get to go to one or two craft shows. and finally.... teaching. again.

yeah. it's called "i don't have a real job so i'm going to do what i can and make big sums of money (pretty much anything $50 or more) to put in my bank account so i can has monies".

the end. n.n

What is the most valuable lesson your father taught you? Bonus points if you show us your dad.

not gonna show a picture.... but i'll tell you the most important thing he's taught me, which is kinda sad in a way...

Even if you've known someone your entire life, and you love them unconditionally, they will turn on you. Trust no one.

What is it too soon for?
Submitted by Design Shark.

another intimate relationship. hell, it's even too soon for another fck buddy.

Who do you tell your secrets to?

it depends. if it's a little secret, my friends. if it's a big one... i tell the world but use my writing to veil it in fiction and adventure and random sci-fi fantasy stuffs. that, and i leave anonymous messages on the Xanga Confessions message board thingie. n.n'

So, it's another Alabaster dribble. But it's a fresh one. That I wrote this morning/afternoon. It still has that new car smell.

Mmmm.... New Car.....

Anyway, they are a bit... sad. meh, more like bittersweet, i think.

They were all inspired by the following images:

Demon1

Meh. Enjoy. n.n

-----------------------------------------------------

 "I... I can feel you," he whispered, timidly stroking his jet black cheek. "Everything you felt. The pain... the loss... and the little moments of joy. Hope, faith, doubts... Love. I can feel it all, inside my heart, and burning into my soul."
 The demon stared at him. But what Ty saw in his eyes were a mere moment of recognition. He only saw the animal, the beast now unchained, and wholly a creature of instinct.
 He felt a pang of loss weaving through the waves of joy. His best friend, the man he loved enough to suffer time and again the pain of death and rebirth, had given his life. No, more than that even. He had sacrificed his very soul for the sake of the human race...
 For him.
 He felt shame then. Washing over him abruptly. "I'm so sorry..." he said, his voice cracking as his hand slipped away and  his head dropped to stare down at the blood drenched clothes that clung to him. Tears, warm and bitter rolled down his cheeks. But he could not will them to stop.
 All of the knowledge, wisdom, and power of God at his command. And he could not keep from crying.
 There was a slight stinging at his chin, as a razor sharp claw tried gently to urge him to look upwards. Slight pressure. Barely a cut, barely a scratch. It felt more like a papercut. He knew, despite the irritation it caused him when it touched his skin that it was meant to be a kind, careful gesture.
 When his head lifted, and his eyes trailed up to meet the green gaze staring back at him in confusion, he noticed a thick, dark liquid forming along the bottom lids, building up at the corners and trickling oh so slowly down the hellfire heated cheeks. Crimson trails with crimson droplets were the only sign of this demon, this monster's sadness.
 And then, the monster, despite their shared tears, broke into a smile. And that smile gradually became a smirk as the demon reached up to try and stroke his hair, only to stop before he touched the golden locks and shake his head as if in laughter at his near-mistake.
 The soft flicker in the green eyes brought to mind a laugh. Sinister and amused at once. And though the demon did not speak, Tycen realized what the other had already known. That pull of emotion, tugging at his senses and his thoughts was a reminder. The realization that the man who had caused him so much heartache, and had made life worth living every time was not lost.
 He was still there, held within himself. No longer the shining knight he had strived so hard to be. No. Now, it was the Forever Man who needed protecting. He had become Tycen's secret treasure.
 Belial's smirk faded, and a frown came to his hideous features as he tilted his head. Green eyes stared at him in confusion. He did not understand what was happening to the human in his lap.
 It was the human's turn to smile, and give what small comfort he could as the familiar darkness began to settle in. The void between one world and the next that he knew so well beckoned to him.
 And for the first time, that blue-eyed soul knew that he wasn't going to be there alone.

----------------------------------------------------

He didn't look at him as he tightened his belt, though he longed to burn the scene into his mind. The blond had not only reached 30, he had surpassed it by four years. And now lay stretched out on a pile of rags beside the dying fire. Thought it should have been a happy occasion, their union would not last. The morning brought with it a truth bittersweet.

"No matter what happens," he started, dropping down to fasten the buckles on his boots. "I'll will always love you. Have always loved you."

"Al, what are you saying?"

"I'm going to do it. I'm going to face them, and-"

"You don't know what will happen." He sat up, letting the thin blanket fall to his waist as he watched the relic of a man. "That much power... you know you can't handle it. You can barely keep a balance with yourself. It would kill you."

"I have to. I'm the only one that can," he said, about to rise to his feet again. But a gentle hand stopped him with a touch to his elbow.

"You said there's others like you. And then there's the angels. They could help us find another way. A way that doesn't involve you going on a suicide mission, and leaves us to run off together."

He smiled, turning his head at last to look at him. After a moment, he gave a soft chuckle. "That's a load of bullshit and you know it. We've exhausted all other options, Ty," he said. "For once, please just admit that I'm right."

-------------------------------------------------

"I... have this gift, you see. I used to think it was a curse, but I know different now. It was my salvation."

"I don't understand."

"I can, I have saved damned souls by taking their sins away, taking them into myself. I used to have an actual system in place. Lots of paperwork. You should know, you were there. But then... there were others. More complex that required more... personal means of conduct."

He narrowed his eyes, puzzling it out before turning a faint shade of red. "Oh... So that's what you were calling it."

He nodded, his own cheeks turning a little pink. "It sustains me, the power of sin. It's what makes me immortal. Allows me to survive. The more I take in, the more I devour, the stronger I become. But I change," he said, casting his eyes away. "There's something inside me that grows powerful, too. Each time I take in more, the hunger grows. And now, it's unbearable. I lose myself, and it consumes me."

"You're becomming like them. One of those... creatures. The Legion."

Al sighed, propping himself up on his elbows as he let his head fall back to stare up at the stars. He had forgotten how beautiful such a sight was. It was calming, serene. But such emotions did not comfort him now. There were things he needed to say, to explain, just in case when the deeds were done, and the dustclouds settled... Tycen would understand what had happened to him, and why he may have to do the unthinkable.

"Al?" he asked, shifting to lay on his side, a nimble hand sliding across the immortal's exposed abdomen. Fingertips tracing scars over a lifetime old. "You know how to stop it, right? You've gone for 2000 years keeping it under control. Why can't you-"

"In the past, I've had friends, even a family. They gave me hope, and strength. And I could keep the balance, knowing that they believed in me, and cared for me. I wanted more than anything to keep them safe. They gave me a reason to keep the demon chained."

He leaned in close, pressing his lips against Al's shoulder with a sigh. "What about me?"

He smiled, turning his head and returning the affection with a light kiss to the younger's forhead. "Strawberries," he said, shifting his weight so that he too was on his side, facing the 34 year old.

"What?"

"You taste like strawberries."

"That's hardly the thing to say at a serious time like this."

"Is it?" he said, smirking and draping an arm over Tycen's side, pulling the mortal against him. "I crossed radioactive continents. Eight different wars, five of them with only one eye and a chunk of shrapnel in my lung. I've had people standing right next to me one minute, and the next they've got a bullet in their brain. Vampires have tried to use me as their never-ending food source. And I've taken a walk around the moon without a space suit." Al smiled, and it was a mischevious one. "And all the while, the one thing that kept me going was that maybe, just maybe, I might find that person that always made me think of strawberries every time I was lucky enough to get a taste."

Tycen laughed, pressing his forhead against the other man's shoulder and shaking his head. "You and your stories. You always have to make things sound so dramatic. News Flash Al, you're not the center of the universe."

He couldn't help but join his laughter. "But it's true though," he said between breaths. "You do taste like strawberries."

As the pair fell into another fit of laughs, the darkness of Al's thoughts receeded. Replaced by the smile on his lover's lips and the warmth found in his large blue eyes as he took him again beside the fire.

The grim discussion was put off in favor of comfort and solace in one another's arms. But as he listened to the blond's breathing later in the night, he knew the dawn would find them, and force him to explain himself in full.

What's the biggest obstacle you've had to overcome within the last 24 hours?
Submitted by ILoveYouMr.Dragon.

sorting through my belongings and digging out all of the things (well, most of the things) that the ex left behind so i can either trash, donate, or burn it.

 She watched them, milling about like mice in the streets below her. Some

pecked at devices in their hands with stylus or finger. Pecking like birds among the

mice, fighting for the same seeds hidden in the depths of identical Starbucks cups.
 An amorphous blob of red and pastey pinkish-peach waddled among them.

A wild boar tramping along the floor of a forest made of skyscrapers and street lamps.

Stuffing its face with burgers and fries from the corner joint. Neurotic women scurried

out of the way as if nervous squirrels, holding their purses close as they skirted around

the hog. Holding their purses close, for that was where they hoarded their husbands'

money like so many acorns and nuts.
 She sighed, shaking her head as she walked along the building's top.

Walking along the concrete sides and peering down into the zoo below. Sirens,

sounding distant to her as she stood so high above them, her private little show.
 Police chasing like a pack of dogs suspects, cat burglers and overzealous

rats running for their lives. But they need not fear the domesticated men in blue. No,

they were merely doing what they had been trained to do and no more. Simple dogs,

simple tricks.
 She moved along to the third side, and spied a child climbing a tree. She

smiled and gave a small chuckle. A playful monkey, with a rather annoyed gorrilla of a

mother trying to pull him from the tree. She waved down at him, knowing he probably

could not see her up so high, and moved her attention to another animal.
 A man, standing in front of a shop window, preening himself like a rooster.

Slicking back his hair and checking his collar, then his breath. He must have thought he

was the cock of the walk, but he was merely insecure.
 She moved on, comming at last to the fourth and final side and peered

down. Old women, their hair short and curled in that unnatural way. Blue haired women

and bald men. Sheep and goats. Too old to care. Too old to be useful. Bleating at the

youth nearby in futility. Their time had passed, yet they didn't want to accept it. So

oblivious to the fact they had outlived their purposes. Too stupid to notice their lives

had become routine, and their homes now in one larger dormatory for the elderly.

Sheep and goats, they lot of them. They disgusted her.
 Her ears perked as she heard a creaking.
 "Who's there?" she demanded, whirling around to find a dangerous creature

indeed.
 "Come on down, Nessa. Yer mum's waitin back at me an Sam's place fer

ye."
 She shook her head. "Not just yet," she said, turning back to the great

expanse before her.
 "It wasn't a request, girlie." A firm paw landed on her shoulder, nails, claws

digging into her expensive blouse. Biting at her skin. She knew he meant nothing by it.

He was nervous. He was frustrated.
 When she was younger, she thought of him as another dog. Housebroken,

loyal, and easily distracted. But now, as she came to understand the world she realized

only a cruel, vicious predatory creature could have given rise to her. For everywhere

she looked, she saw only weak and powerless prey.
 Slowly, she nodded and turned to leave the rooftop where she had come to

seek solitude and serenity. She could feel his eyes on her as he followed. The careful

gaze of a monster, of a killing machine.
 "Da?" she asked, breaking the silence of the elevator ride to the Lobby on

the bottom floor.
 "Hrn?"
 "What kind of animal, do you suppose, are you underneath your human

skin?"
 He smiled, giving a small laugh and shook his head. "Do you really want to

know?"
 She nodded eagerly.
 "Opossum."*
 "What?"
 "Opossum."
 "Da, I'm serious."
 He grinned as the bell chimed. The doors began to grind open and he

stepped out of the elevator. "So am I. Now, ye wanna take the limo er a cab? I was

thinkin it'd be fun ta pull up in a drive thru in either one," he said as he led the way

across the lobby towards the large glass doors which gave way to the zoo outside.

--------------------------------

FOOTNOTES

*Opossum, not to be confused with the Australian Possum.

Excerpt on Behavior from the Wiki Page:

Opossums are usually solitary and nomadic, staying in one area as long as food and water are easily available. Some families will group together in ready-made burrows or even under houses. Though they will temporarily occupy abandoned burrows, they do not dig or put much effort into building their own. As nocturnal animals, they favor dark, secure areas. These areas may be below ground or above.

When threatened or harmed, they will "play possum", mimicking the appearance and smell of a sick or dead animal. The lips are drawn back, teeth are bared, saliva foams around the mouth, and a foul-smelling fluid is secreted from the anal glands. The physiological response is involuntary, rather than a conscious act. Their stiff, curled form can be prodded, turned over, and even carried away. The animal will regain consciousness after a period of minutes or hours and escape.

Adult opossums do not hang from trees by their tails, though babies may dangle temporarily. Their semi-prehensile tails are not strong enough to support a mature adult's weight. Instead, the opossum uses its tail as a brace and a fifth limb when climbing. The tail is occasionally used as a grip to carry bunches of leaves or bedding materials to the nest. A mother will sometimes carry her young upon her back, where they will cling tightly even when she is climbing or running.

Threatened opossums (especially males) will growl deeply, raising their pitch as the threat becomes more urgent. Males make a clicking "smack" noise out of the side of their mouths as they wander in search of a mate, and females will sometimes repeat the sound in return. When separated or distressed, baby opossums will make a sneezing noise to signal their mother. If threatened, the baby will open its mouth and quietly hiss until the threat is gone.