Dracaenas are easy to propagate by air layering, tip or stem cuttings, or by the removal and rooting of basal shoots in spring or late summer. Corn Plant Dracaena fragrans : The common name comes from the appearance of the leaves, which resemble sweet corn. Dragon Tree Dracaena marginata : Thin stems are topped by clusters of slender arching leaves with narrow purple margins. The stems often have interesting natural bends. Some people also train bends by setting the plant on its side for some time.
Dragon trees can grow up to 10 feet tall. Cut back the stems to force the plant to branch. The dragon tree is widely used in home, office and commercial decor because it tolerates low light. Gold Dust Dracaena Dracaena godseffiana : This small dracaena is shrub like in appearance. The leaves are liberally speckled creamy yellow that fades to white as the leaves mature.
Green Dracaena Dracaena deremensis : The species is far less common than its widely grown cultivars. Pleomele Dracaena reflexa : This dracaena has flexible stems. Short, dense leaf rosettes spiral around the stems. Foliage will stay dense to the base if this plant is grown with enough light.
This information is supplied with the understanding that no discrimination is intended and no endorsement of brand names or registered trademarks by the Clemson University Cooperative Extension Service is implied, nor is any discrimination intended by the exclusion of products or manufacturers not named. All recommendations are for South Carolina conditions and may not apply to other areas. Use pesticides only according to the directions on the label. All recommendations for pesticide use are for South Carolina only and were legal at the time of publication, but the status of registration and use patterns are subject to change by action of state and federal regulatory agencies.
Follow all directions, precautions and restrictions that are listed. Join our mailing list to receive the latest updates from HGIC. Did it drink of the darkness? Did it suck out all the poisons accumulated with the years? It fed in silence with an occasional sound of inner suffocation and blind searching. It had an Eye. The impersonal operator of the machine could, by wearing a special optical helmet, gaze into the soul of the person whom he was pumping out.
What did the Eye see? He did not say. He saw but did not see what the Eye saw. The entire operation was not unlike the digging of a trench in one's yard. The woman on the bed was no more than a hard stratum of marble they had reached. Go on, anyway, shove the bore down, slush up the emptiness, if such a thing could be brought out in the throb of the suction snake. The operator stood smoking a cigarette. The other machine was working too.
The other machine was operated by an equally impersonal fellow in non-stainable reddish-brown overalls. This machine pumped all of the blood from the body and replaced it with fresh blood and serum.
Leave that stuff in the blood and the blood hits the brain like a mallet, bang, a couple of thousand times and the brain just gives up, just quits. They shut the machines up tight. They stood with the cigarette smoke curling around their noses and into their eyes without making them blink or squint.
We got all the mean stuff right in our suitcase here, it can't get at her now. As I said, you take out the old and put in the new and you're O. Why didn't they send an M. Got so many, starting a few years ago, we had the special machines built. With the optical lens, of course, that was new; the rest is ancient. You don't need an M.
Look"-he started for the door-"we gotta go. Just had another call on the old earthimble. Ten blocks from here. Someone else just jumped off the cap of a pillbox. Call if you need us again. Keep her quiet. We got a contra-sedative in her. She'll wake up hungry. So long. Montag sank down into a chair and looked at this woman. Her eyes were closed now, gently, and he put out his hand to feel the warmness of breath on his palm.
There are too many of us, he thought. There are billions of us and that's too many. Nobody knows anyone. Strangers come and violate you. Strangers come and cut your heart out. Strangers come and take your blood. Good God, who were those men? I never saw them before in my life! Half an hour passed. The bloodstream in this woman was new and it seemed to have done a new thing to her.
Her cheeks were very pink and her lips were very fresh and full of colour and they looked soft and relaxed. Someone else's blood there. If only someone else's flesh and brain and memory. If only they could have taken her mind along to the drycleaner's and emptied the pockets and steamed and cleansed it and reblocked it and brought it back in the morning. If only. He got up and put back the curtains and opened the windows wide to let the night air in. It was two o'clock in the morning. Was it only an hour ago, Clarisse McClellan in the street, and him coming in, and the dark room and his foot kicking the little crystal bottle?
Only an hour, but the world had melted down and sprung up in a new and colourless form. Laughter blew across the moon-coloured lawn from the house of Clarisse and her father and mother and the uncle who smiled so quietly and so earnestly. Above all, their laughter was relaxed and hearty and not forced in any way, coming from the house that was so brightly lit this late at night while all the other houses were kept to themselves in darkness.
Montag heard the voices talking, talking, talking, giving, talking, weaving, reweaving their hypnotic web. Montag moved out through the french windows and crossed the lawn, without even thinking of it. He stood outside the talking house in the shadows, thinking he might even tap on their door and whisper, "Let me come in. I won't say anything. I just want to listen. What is it you're saying? Blow your nose on a person, wad them, flush them away, reach for another, blow, wad, flush. Everyone using everyone else's coattails. How are you supposed to root for the home team when you don't even have a programme or know the names?
For that matter, what colour jerseys are they wearing as they trot out on to the field? One drop of rain. Another drop. A third. The uncle. A fourth. The fire tonight. One, Clarisse. Two, Mildred. Three, uncle. Four, fire, One, Mildred, two, Clarisse. One, two, three, four, five, Clarisse, Mildred, uncle, fire, sleeping-tablets, men, disposable tissue, coat-tails, blow, wad, flush, Clarisse, Mildred, uncle, fire, tablets, tissues, blow, wad, flush.
One, two, three, one, two, three! The storm.
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The uncle laughing. Thunder falling downstairs. The whole world pouring down. The fire gushing up in a volcano. All rushing on down around in a spouting roar and rivering stream toward morning. At nine in the morning, Mildred's bed was empty. Montag got up quickly, his heart pumping, and ran down the hall and stopped at the kitchen door. Toast popped out of the silver toaster, was seized by a spidery metal hand that drenched it with melted butter.
Mildred watched the toast delivered to her plate.
She had both ears plugged with electronic bees that were humming the hour away. She looked up suddenly, saw him, and nodded. She was an expert at lip-reading from ten years of apprenticeship at Seashell earthimbles. She nodded again. She set the toaster clicking away at another piece of bread. Montag sat down. His wife said, "I don't know why I should be so hungry.
Feel terrible," she said. I can't figure it. She watched his lips casually. Did we have a wild party or something? Feel like I've a hangover. God, I'm hungry. Who was here? Hope I didn't do anything foolish at the party. The toaster spidered out a piece of buttered bread for him. He held it in his hand, feeling grateful. In the late afternoon it rained and the entire world was dark grey. He stood in the hall of his house, putting on his badge with the orange salamander burning across it.
He stood looking up at the air-conditioning vent in the hall for a long time. His wife in the TV parlour paused long enough from reading her script to glance up. Why would I do a thing like that? She was quite obviously waiting for him to go. She didn't look up from her script again. They mailed me my part this morning. I sent in some boxtops. They write the script with one part missing. It's a new idea. The home-maker, that's me, is the missing part. And I say, I say --" She paused and ran her finger under a line in the script. There are these people named Bob and Ruth and Helen. It'll be even more fun when we can afford to have the fourth wall installed.
How long you figure before we save up and get the fourth wall torn out and a fourth wall-TV put in? It's only two thousand dollars. If we had a fourth wall, why it'd be just like this room wasn't ours at all, but all kinds of exotic people's rooms. We could do without a few things. It was put in only two months ago, remember? He stopped and turned around. He walked out of the house into the rain. The rain was thinning away and the girl was walking in the centre of the sidewalk with her head up and the few drops falling on her face.
She smiled when she saw Montag. The rain feels good. I love to walk in it. I didn't think I'd find one on the lawn this late. Have you ever heard of rubbing it under your chin? Has it? Let's try YOU now. He drew back and she laughed. That's why it won't work for me. I don't want you angry with me. Upset, yes. They make me go. I made up things to say.
I don't know what he thinks of me.
- 10 Chinese New Year Myths.
- 10 Chinese New Year Myths.
- The Monster and New Year’s Eve?
He says I'm a regular onion! I keep him busy peeling away the layers. I'll show you my collection some day. I tell them that sometimes I just sit and think. But I won't tell them what. I've got them running. And sometimes, I tell them, I like to put my head back, like this, and let the rain fall into my mouth. It tastes just like wine. Have you ever tried it? God knows why. You're peculiar, you're aggravating, yet you're easy to forgive. You say you're seventeen? How strange. And my wife thirty and yet you seem so much older at times.
I can't get over it. Sometimes I even forget you're a fireman. Now, may I make you angry again? How did you get into it? How did you pick your work and how did you happen to think to take the job you have? You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I know. When I talk, you look at me.
When I said something about the moon, you looked at the moon, last night. The others would never do that. The others would walk off and leave me talking. Or threaten me. No one has time any more for anyone else. You're one of the few who put up with me. That's why I think it's so strange you're a fireman, it just doesn't seem right for you, somehow. And she ran off and left him standing there in the rain.
Only after a long time did he move. And then, very slowly, as he walked, he tilted his head back in the rain, for just a few moments, and opened his mouth The Mechanical Hound slept but did not sleep, lived but did not live in its gently humming, gently vibrating, softly illuminated kennel back in a dark corner of the firehouse. The dim light of one in the morning, the moonlight from the open sky framed through the great window, touched here and there on the brass and the copper and the steel of the faintly trembling beast.
Light flickered on bits of ruby glass and on sensitive capillary hairs in the nylon-brushed nostrils of the creature that quivered gently, gently, gently, its eight legs spidered under it on rubber-padded paws. Montag slid down the brass pole. He went out to look at the city and the clouds had cleared away completely, and he lit a cigarette and came back to bend down and look at the Hound.
It was like a great bee come home from some field where the honey is full of poison wildness, of insanity and nightmare, its body crammed with that over-rich nectar and now it was sleeping the evil out of itself. At night when things got dull, which was every night, the men slid down the brass poles, and set the ticking combinations of the olfactory system of the Hound and let loose rats in the firehouse area-way, and sometimes chickens, and sometimes cats that would have to be drowned anyway, and there would be betting to see which the Hound would seize first.
The animals were turned loose. Three seconds later the game was done, the rat, cat, or chicken caught half across the areaway, gripped in gentling paws while a four-inch hollow steel needle plunged down from the proboscis of the Hound to inject massive jolts of morphine or procaine.
The pawn was then tossed in the incinerator. A new game began. Montag stayed upstairs most nights when this went on. There had been a time two years ago when he had bet with the best of them, and lost a week's salary and faced Mildred's insane anger, which showed itself in veins and blotches. But now at night he lay in his bunk, face turned to the wall, listening to whoops of laughter below and the piano-string scurry of rat feet, the violin squeaking of mice, and the great shadowing, motioned silence of the Hound leaping out like a moth in the raw light, finding, holding its victim, inserting the needle and going back to its kennel to die as if a switch had been turned.
Montag touched the muzzle. The Hound growled. Montag jumped back. The Hound half rose in its kennel and looked at him with green-blue neon light flickering in its suddenly activated eyebulbs. It growled again, a strange rasping combination of electrical sizzle, a frying sound, a scraping of metal, a turning of cogs that seemed rusty and ancient with suspicion. He saw the silver needle extended upon the air an inch, pull back, extend, pull back. The growl simmered in the beast and it looked at him. Montag backed up. The Hound took a step from its kennel. Montag grabbed the brass pole with one hand.
The pole, reacting, slid upward, and took him through the ceiling, quietly. He stepped off in the half-lit deck of the upper level. He was trembling and his face was green-white. Below, the Hound had sunk back down upon its eight incredible insect legs and was humming to itself again, its multi-faceted eyes at peace. Montag stood, letting the fears pass, by the drop-hole. Behind him, four men at a card table under a green-lidded light in the corner glanced briefly but said nothing.
Only the man with the Captain's hat and the sign of the Phoenix on his hat, at last, curious, his playing cards in his thin hand, talked across the long room. It doesn't like or dislike. It has a trajectory we decide for it. It follows through. It targets itself, homes itself, and cuts off. It's only copper wire, storage batteries, and electricity. It would be easy for someone to set up a partial combination on the Hound's 'memory,' a touch of amino acids, perhaps.
That would account for what the animal did just now. Reacted toward me. Just enough 'memory' set up in it by someone so it growled when I touched it. Don't worry" But Montag did not move and only stood thinking of the ventilator grille in the hall at home and what lay hidden behind the grille. If someone here in the firehouse knew about the ventilator then mightn't they "tell" the Hound.
The Captain came over to the drop-hole and gave Montag a questioning glance. Is it coming alive on us, really? It makes me cold. What a shame if that's all it can ever know. It's a fine bit of craftsmanship, a good rifle that can fetch its own target and guarantees the bull's-eye every time. You got a guilty conscience about something? Beatty stood there looking at him steadily with his eyes, while his mouth opened and began to laugh, very softly. One two three four five six seven days. And as many times he came out of the house and Clarisse was there somewhere in the world.
Once he saw her shaking a walnut tree, once he saw her sitting on the lawn knitting a blue sweater, three or four times he found a bouquet of late flowers on his porch, or a handful of chestnuts in a little sack, or some autumn leaves neatly pinned to a sheet of white paper and thumbtacked to his door. Every day Clarisse walked him to the corner. One day it was raining, the next it was clear, the day after that the wind blew strong, and the day after that it was mild and calm, and the day after that calm day was a day like a furnace of summer and Clarisse with her face all sunburnt by late afternoon.
And because we know each other. I really, thought you were having fun at my expense. I'm a fool. It's been a long time since anyone cared enough to ask. A good question. Have you ever smelled old leaves? Lance had it since it was a Magikarp, it first appeared in Extricated from Exeggutor. They are seen again in Delibird Delivery - 1 in a flashback, and again in Delibird Delivery - 2 , where they were temporarily under Silver's control to surround the Masked Man. He had the ability to control the other Gyarados in the lake.
In Debonaire Dragonair , in the Dragon's Den , three Gyarados appeared, rising out of the water, but they did not attack Clair. Instead, they make way for her peacefully before Suicune appears and attacks. It rescued Ruby from a giant flood that happened throughout Slateport City. Crasher Wake also has a Gyarados which was very briefly seen during his presentation, where he was riding on it in A Skuffle with Skorupi. Cyrus owns a Gyarados which first appeared in Shunning Spiritomb. In Team Galactic's Conspiracy, Revealed!! He used its Giga Impact to destroy the rope bridge where the battle was taking place, sending Hareta and Piplup falling into the river below.
Lance owns a Gyarados as seen in Space Havoc!! When it does appear, it's usually running rampant in a destructive rage--behavior that has the unfortunate side effect of leaving whole cities in ruin. It is said that when humans begin a conflict, Gyarados incinerates the towns of both warring parties. There are records of a Gyarados rampage lasting as long as a month. Its pre-evolution form is Magikarp.
Gyarados appears as a Spirit. A Gyarados appeared in Detective Pikachu. It was first seen as a Magikarp , but it eventually evolved and scared away a Charizard in order to protect Tim Goodman and Detective Pikachu. It appears to be based on a sea dragon or sea serpent and chinese dragon.
Evil Spirits and Poetry
Gyarados is partially based on a legend about how carp that leapt over the Dragon Gate would become dragons. Several waterfalls and cataracts in China are believed to be the location of the Dragon Gate. This legend is an allegory of the drive and efforts needed to overcome obstacles which can be tied to the fact that Gyarados' pre-evolution, Magikarp, could possibly take a lot of drive and effort to legitimately evolve into Gyarados.
It could also be inspired by the Inkanyamba , a giant, winged, eel that causes storms when angry - a trait Gyarados is famous for. Please remember to follow the manual of style and code of conduct at all times. Jump to: navigation , search. For a specific instance of this species, see Gyarados disambiguation. Attack :. Defense :. Atk :. Def :. Speed :. For other sprites and images, please see Gyarados images on the Bulbagarden Archives. Personal tools Create account Log in. This article is about the species. Mega Gyarados. Images on the Bulbagarden Archives. Types Water. Abilities Intimidate Gyarados.
Cacophony Mega Gyarados. Moxie Hidden Ability. Cacophony Hidden Ability. Mold Breaker Mega Gyarados. Gender ratio Unknown. Catch rate 45 Height 21'04". Weight Mega Stone Gyaradosite. Central Kalos. Browser R Fiore. R Almia.
Base experience yield Gen. Leveling rate Slow. EV yield Total: 2. Body style. Base friendship Its fangs can crush stones and its scales are harder than steel. This concludes the entries from the original series. A Water and Flying type. Rumors exist of a town that made Gyarados angry. That town was burned to the ground in one night, leaving no trace.
The evolved form of Magikarp. Rarely seen in the wild. Huge and vicious, it is capable of destroying entire cities in a rage. Can fire a Hyper Beam from its mouth. Generation I. Red Rarely seen in the wild. Brutally vicious and enormously destructive. Known for totally destroying cities in ancient times. Extremely vicious and horribly brutal. Has enough destructive power to totally annihilate even a major city.
Generation II. Gold They say that during past wars, Gyarados would appear and leave blazing ruins in its wake. Once it appears, it goes on a rampage. It remains enraged until it demolishes everything around it. It appears whenever there is world conflict, burning down any place it travels through. They say that during the past wars, Gyarados would appear and leave blazing ruins in its wake. Generation III. Ruby When Magikarp evolves into Gyarados, its brain cells undergo a structural transformation.
Once Gyarados goes on a rampage, its ferociously violent blood doesn't calm until it has burned everything down. When humans begin to fight, it will appear and burn everything to the ground with intensely hot flames. It has an extremely aggressive nature. The Hyper Beam it shoots from its mouth totally incinerates all targets.
Generation IV. Diamond Once it appears, its rage never settles until it has razed the fields and mountains around it.