#Cluster sampling in research

[marketxcel]

Cluster Sampling: Types, Advantages, Limitations, and Examples

Explore the various types, advantages, limitations, and real-world examples of cluster sampling in our informative blog. Learn how this sampling method can help researchers gather data efficiently and effectively for insightful analysis.

[xesnox]

All currently active NeoBuilders.

Minecraft default skins in Ancient Ruins, reference picture at the end for comparison.

Don’t look too close at the faces, had to speedrun this so I could actually motivate myself to finish the entire lineup. Definitely not my best work. Clothing was a pain to figure out and I’ll definitely change some things in the future as I’m still not entirely happy with the general aesthetics of some sets. Zuri and Efe were the worst to figure out, their clothing styles were very modern in comparison to what I’m going for with Ancient Ruins so it took me a while.

But first of all, what is a NeoBuilder?

Lore entry Ahead, body horror warning, nothing too extreme I wouldn’t say, but the concept definitely isn’t the prettiest.

“NeoBuilder” describes a category of individuals that appear to be within the homo-genus (Artisan Family.).

The dissection of a deactivated individual showed (us) they are made of about 85% mechanical components, most of which consist of copper and iron. Organs however remain fully functional and can be traced back to Ancient Artisans in origin through DNA sampling. Blood vessels aswell as a large portion of their flesh has been replaced by machinery, activated regulated and moved through restricted soul energy coursing through their veins as blood would on a fully biological human.

The change of energy source makes them effectively immune to the green plague, which is transmitted through blood. In place of a heart they have a still unnamed chamber (Ch1), acting akin to a cockpit housing a freshly created soul, which is replaced by converting experience farmed in the previous lifecycle to the next, taking the raw energy and morphing it into a new soul. As souls are neither human nor animal but simply an energy cluster made of (if found post mortum) memories and life experience this can easily (and understandably) be transferred, even if the origin of the experience in question happens to be non-sentient. The experience is collected and stored within yet another unnamed organ replacing their left kidney (Ch2).

But do not be fooled, this process by no means makes them immortal. If the body is in critical shape it will resort to exporting the active soul and using the remaining soul energy still running through the machinery to activate the emergency program. In this state the body will do nothing but return to whatever point the machine has clocked as “safe” (this kind of reset happens when the person is resting for an extended period of time, as it marks said area as safe enough to stay vulnerable within.) and fix its injuries back to base point, excluding the bio-matter, as there no longer is any such material around. Through the expelling of the last soul, and slow process of developing a new one, the machine will power down there until the next energy burst. This means that even though the body itself remains alive, every life cycle houses a different person. If you see the same NeoBuilder twice it is therefore not guaranteed it will come with the same intention, as it might be a completely different soul speaking through the same form.

If the damage is too bad however, the NeoBuilder will shut down and cannot be reactivated unless one with actual knowledge of how to do so were to interfere. The how has been lost to history however, we blame the creature of despair and decay that shall not be named. It is different from deactivation, as it renders the body permanently dead. Many NeoBuilders have deactivated, we assume only 9 of the previous 30 remain.

We have no idea as to why these manmade humanoids were created, as the why has also been buried and lost to years of untouched unaddressed missing history.

Infact, their names are quite new, till about half a century ago, due to my own research if I may pat myself on the back, we had assumed them to be a strange strain of plague infested ancients, as they’d always remained distant to us and a dead specimen was a more than rare find. It is not a fully worked out name whatsoever, the “Builder” merely connecting them to the Artisan family, and the word “Neo”- as in “New” replacing the word “Ancient” we’ve been using to describe the other half of the family thus far, it is a placeholder by all means, but so is the latter.

Their nature would definitively make them more akin to bio-mechanical golems, however we chose to group them into the artisan family for the previously mentioned bio material, which matched identical to that of the mummified remains cave divers had found a few years back lodged between long forgotten pathways shut to time. Wasn’t a pretty sight when they showed me. One would think after a good few millennia they’d be nothing but a pile of ash and bones, but low oxygen levels within the closed off cave system made for some awfully good preservation, not pretty I dare say, I’m just glad nothing snapped at me during inspection as, perhaps in this case thankfully, the undead plague only infects the living; anything that doesn’t breathe and lacks running blood cannot fall victim to such a thing. But personal tangent aside, some interesting notes here:

- Despite the soul of the Neobuilder swapping with each lifecycle they generally keep the same base morals of the previous host.

- it seems Mother Earth isn’t very fond of them for whatever reason. The undead are very manageable if one isn’t around, but as soon as one chooses to stay in close vicinity it very quickly gets nearly impossible to maneuver, they’re like a magnet. It seems this is the reason they rarely last longer than 20 years within a single lifecycle.

- they’re actually quite cooperative, and many have learned our language. Though sorrowfully it appears they only store a single slot for their language, and forget all other information of a previously spoken one upon interaction (perhaps they were meant as a situational translation device?). I’ve attempted my best to reteach them, but I’m no linguist; I limit my research to history, with a limited understanding of biology. To figure out the mechanics alone I had to get a whole other villager to help my case.

- despite a large portion of their flesh being replaced by mechanical components an extra layer of the fat cells within the subcutis create an artificial layer of flesh like material dampening any slashes at the golem like form below.

More research to be added once I acquire more material to work with. This is a work in progress.

Understudied field, more research either classified information or unable to be attained due to both lack of examples and individuals willing enough to risk their lives acquiring such needless information. Ivan D. P. Retired shortly after writing his book discussing categorized biological information regarding the entities within our realm, which has since been removed from the market. The authors doctor title has been revoked due to a less than fortunate suspected alliance with the Illager cult on his end, so choose the information you’re willing to believe wisely, the villages dislike him for a reason.

We sincerely apologize but certain behaviors are to be taken seriously regarding the issues the cult on the outskirts has caused us in the past. Rumors have to be believed regarding individuals actively choosing to house away from the masses for whatever reason, to keep the general public safe.

Moving just out of sight to dedicate your life to dissecting humanoids on your dinner table is not normal behavior and was it not for his living position would hastily be investigated,

mumbling about how you hate our community doesn’t lessen our concerns, if you read this Ivan, it was not funny and it will never be, you know of the missing people concerns: if it happens again we’re sorry to inform you but you’ll no longer be welcome within this village.

[honeysickledream]

Stellate (sex pollen) | Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Scientist!Reader

NSFW (minors + ageless blogs DNI) CW for dubcon / dubious consent, sex pollen, fuck or die (possibly?), oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), squirting, panty stealing, dead dove do not eat [if i missed anything, lmk please!] w/c: ~1.3k a/n: I needed more sex pollen fics in my life so I tried my best to fulfill that need—now i’m gonna see if I can get some work done now, byeeee [edited: this was my first attempt at smut in ages, sorry if it's rough]

You and Soap had been tasked with receiving samples of a plant from a remote enemy research facility that had been reported abandoned. Soap was to act as your bodyguard in case the intel was faulty and a few enemies, or traps, remained while you collected the samples that the head researchers from your lab needed. You accepted the mission, you had no choice but to, and didn’t fuss about Soap’s talkative presence on the journey to the facility. His stories were funny and almost as charming as his blue eyes, and the sense of security he gave you was welcoming.

The intel had been accurate: the research outpost was abandoned, and based on appearances, it had been a hasty abandonment. Partially full gas cans sat beside trucks that had been haphazardly loaded with various crates. In the offices, personal items remained littered on the desktops. The floors of the general labs were stained with various chemicals, research notes and glass from beakers and full titration sets scattered across the floor. Soap pressed forward to the hydroponic labs and you followed him nervously, keeping six feet between you just in case something went wrong ahead.

The hydroponics lab was dimly lit with a faint haze that hung dimly in the air. Florescent tubes flickered randomly behind the glass covers. State-of-the-art hydroponic tables stood in perfectly measured rows with clusters of leafy plants in wide, black plastic pots. The flowers that bloomed in clusters on top were beautiful: stellate petals colored lilac, slashed with a deep orange down the center.

You got to work as quickly as you could, gloving your hands and laying out your equipment on the empty space beside your chosen plant. With a steady hand, you gently plucked a few petals with a pair of long tweezers, placing each one into its own marked specimen pouch. You collected a few leaves, noting that the margins were dentate. You snipped one of the stamens, being sure to not jostle it too much as you lowered into a pouch.

The plant…shuddered when you looked back at it in preparation to swipe a sample of the stigma. You gave the plant a long, hard look. It had shuddered, you knew it had, yet there had been no breeze, and Soap was across the lab doing his own thing. There was no evidence that something was alive in the lab, either: no cocoons or webs, droppings or bite marks on any of the leaves you’d looked at. You pressed the cotton tip of the swab to the stigma and twisted it once for your sample.

It moved again and you took a step back, calling out for Soap. The flowers turned to you—actually turned—and a faintly pink substance sputtered from the stigmas and into your face. A short coughing fit overcame you as your lungs started to burn, your eyes watering and clouding over with a pink haze.

Panic bloomed in your heart and the blood in your veins shot cold before a wave of painful heat slithered through your veins and settled into your bones. Your heartbeat became erratic as whatever compound in the flower’s pollen mixed with the chemical components in your brain, which was no doubt accelerated by your panic.

Soap’s voice, muffled by the faint ringing that had settled in your ears, partially registered in your mind and you looked toward him. His broad form was vaguely recognizable through the pink haze over your eyes. A painful throbbing perfectly in time with your heartbeat settled between your legs as he fussed over your pollen-covered face with a dampened rag. Need. God, you needed something. Him, that’s what you needed.

The little logical voice in your head was long gone, silence by another voice. Its eerie whispers filled every nook and cranny of your mind as it planted image after image of Soap fucking you in every position you’d read about and watched on those lonely nights that had become far too frequent. You fisted the straps of his tactical vest, pulling him closer. “Help,” you panted. You grabbed his hand to guide it between your thighs. He froze and blasphemed under his breath as he felt how wet you were through your slacks. “Help me, please. Do something!” His fingers crooked against your clothed cunt. “Evac’ll be here soon,” he rasped.

Your head shook ‘No’ quickly. “Not soon enough. You gotta help me now!”

“Lass—“

“Please,” you sobbed. “I need it—I want it!”

His hands settled on your hips as he shushed you. He walked you back to the edge of the edge of the hydroponic bench. You’re pressed into the edge and then you were on your back, your slacks and underwear yanked down and tossed aside. Your legs were thrown over his shoulders as he knelt on the concrete floor. His rough thumb worked quickly against your throbbing clit while his tongue moved against your leaking slit. Your hips bucked, pathetic whimpers and breathy moans falling from your lips. All the heat in your veins suddenly moved towards your belly, coiling tighter and tighter. It wasn’t enough all of a sudden. You begged for more as you carded your fingers through his hair and pressed his face harder against you. His hold on you shifted, his tongue replacing his thumb against your clit as his slowly pressed his middle finger into you. A dizzying mix of praise laced with fond degradation was panted against your clit as you clenched around his finger that crooked against that spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids, that spot very few men you’d been with cared to focus on. His ring finger slipped into you and his pace quickened. The stimulation, the stretch, those filthy sweet words he panted against you was quickly becoming your undoing. The coiled tension that sat low in your belly tightened suddenly. You tried to warn him that you were about to cum but all that came from your mouth was a sharp gasp as you gushed around his fingers. You whined when he pulled his fingers from you as he stood. The fog in your mind had begun to dissipate quickly. That eerie voice that told you all the ways you needed Soap had been silenced, you vision cleared of the pink haze. Soap placed your slacks beside you as he licked his lips and fingers clean of you. That image was going to stay with you for the rest of your life, not that you minded. His radio crackled to life, announcing the arrival of the evac and quarantine team. You He carefully slid your specimen pouches and tools into your satchel while you shakily pulled on your slacks— “Where’s…my underwear?” you asked. Soap shrugged and turned on his heels to make his way out of the lab. Your eyes caught the bunch of familiar black fabric sticking out of his back pocket when you call into line behind you. You didn’t mention it. Not after he cured you of whatever that pollen did to you. He deserved a little reward for all his help. You took in a sharp breath as you exited the building. The air was crisp, cool. Soap nudged your side and you looked to your left. A small team of contamination personnel worked to set up their screening tent and laid out PPE for your return to base. “We’re gonna be in quarantine for a while,” you told him. You felt his eyes drift to you, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed him smirk. “Aye. Reckon it’ll be together?” “Hm…Possibly.” “Quarantine can be borin’.” Your lips pursed as you try not to grin. You fail. “That it can. Got some ideas to keep the boredom at bay?” He snorted. “Aye, plenty.”

[covid-safer-hotties]

Another preprint showing advanced covid evolution via zoonosis

Reference archived on our website

I'm honestly still sore so many people mocked me for worrying about covid reservoirs forming among wild deer. These are captive deer, but we can assume similar mechanics work among wild deer.

Abstract White-tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus) have high value for research, conservation, agriculture and recreation, and may be important SARS-CoV-2 reservoirs with unknown human health implications. In November 2023, we sampled 15 female deer in a captive facility in central Texas, USA. All individuals had neutralizing antibodies against SARS-CoV-2 and 11 had RT-qPCR-positive respiratory swabs; one also had a positive rectal swab. Six of 11 respiratory swabs yielded infectious virus with replication kinetics of most samples displaying lower growth 24-48 h post infection in vitro when compared to Omicron lineages isolated from humans in Texas in the same period. However, virus growth was similar between groups by 72 h, suggesting no strong attenuation of deer-derived virus. All deer viruses clustered in XBB Omicron clade, with more mutations than expected compared to contemporaneous viruses in humans, suggesting that crossing the species barrier to deer was accompanied by a high substitution rate.

[wraheathcliff]

A Quick Dictation

Warning: Graphic magical medical gore, dubious patient discomfort, light (mean, brief) gay smut, addictions, vampirism, over-the-top elf drama. Consider yourself informed, foul citizen. It's only going to get worse from here. I did tone it down for Tumblr...

Heathcliff remained frozen as crystals slowly reflected under the dark lashes of his gaze in the microscope, collective ions of arcane transforming to rapidly precipitate out in glowing green clusters of organized fractals. The drop of wretched blood on the slide bloomed calcified arcane from mere granules of the expensive crushed dust. Nothing unusual there, but this one formed too quickly. The sample was giving him mixed results, and he was running out of time to figure it out. The beauty of the transformation was consistent, but the rate and amount was changing by a variable he had yet to understand. He wouldn't even be able to start on the experimentation with his own Dracone blood if he couldn't find a reasonable baseline to compare. The fresh samples should have helped but his subject was dying. He had been doing this with multiple slides for hours. Eyes narrowed in frustration.

Pustules all over the wretched man tied tightly face-down to his operating table nearby were abundant examples of how far over-indulgence ravaged elven bodies to horrific effect. The arcane clustered with oversaturation in the blood, forming these crystallized deposits usually near the spinal column and upper back, sometimes terminating the subject once they reached the heart. Removing them was risky, infection rates high. Users would often re-ingest these pustule clusters as they glowed with the concentrated arcane deposits, recycling the addiction back into the body. In this way, addicts could sustain themselves when it became harder to get the high levels they desired. Different than symptoms of withdrawal, like the withered of the Nightborne, the wretched occupying ruins in the Ghostlands were beings of excess. They bathed their bodily systems with the arcane in any way to get even higher. Their tolerance levels were always craving more.

A tortured scream muffled pitifully from the frail patient as he drooled a black pool on the cold steel, face pinned to one side, eyes barely seeing. Heathcliff frowned at the disruption, his mood growing more tetchy and sharp. The crowded lab should be properly segregated with isolated rooms for research but he found no time to organize the slowly growing collective experiments crammed on shelves and occupying sections of surfaces that made sense only in his mind. The rattling metal distracted him, but the screaming meant it was time for more sedation. Soon.

The familiar noise of his creaking laboratory door followed shortly after. Heathcliff didn't need to wonder who it was. The lack of noise told him everything.

"Tantalus." Heathcliff declared like a warning, as if the vampire intruder was already pinned beneath him. "Not now."

Slender pale arms snaked down Heathcliff's chest as a predatory smile sighed against his ear. "Doctor… you look so tense. How about a little break?" the voice smooth and soft, a poisonous pleasure. "I brought you your mail from the front entrance." He tossed a bundle on the desk with a flick of his wrist, jostling it a bit on impact.

Heathcliff's eyes never moved from the microscope as he refocused the lens. "Hasn't my brother kept you sufficiently occupied?"

Tan pouted becomingly, head resting on Heathcliff's shoulder from behind. "Cruel. You know I'm hungry."

It was routine by now, indulging his beautiful friend's appetite. Almost daily, as of late. But Heathcliff's price was always very high. Dracone blood was too rich, in more ways than one. And they were certainly not lovers.

Heathcliff sighed with feigned burden, acquiescing reluctantly. "Very well. Partake if you must. But expedite matters, I implore you." He jerked his neck away from Tan's grazing teeth and began to loosen his belt. "On my terms."

Tan sank gracefully down as he had done so many times before, not wasting time to satiate his greedy vampiric appetite on the addictive, heavy Dracone blood while exciting his host. Blood that tasted like a heavy threat and a promise, ancient and wrong, coming out of all the right places.

The practiced exchange was just getting started as Heathcliff noticed the letter on top of a pile of mail. He reached over to read it while fully engaged with Tan's attentions below the desk. The moans got a little louder between his legs as a smile of appreciation excited him while reading Lady Shadowglade's reply. So she had disposed of him. Now it was time for renegotiations. That thrilled him to the bone. He reached down and sunk his fingers into silvery hair, curling until his grip was good enough to yank Tan off him after a few more delicious moments, trailing blood all on the stone floor.

"Up." Heathcliff dragged him to his feet by his hair and released him only to get a better grip on him by the throat. He hovered close, eyes softening and accessing slowly as if finding the perfect place to kiss. Lips grazed and a skilled tongue licked his own blood off a lip, a chin, only to pull back and turn him around roughly, bending him over his desk. His demands stated clearly: "Take it all off." This was a business transaction, not a date. Heathcliff moved a step to the side to yank open a desk drawer, pulling out parchment, ink and quill. He placed them on the desk in front of Tan, now naked with elbows and palms resting on the surface.

The doctor ran his hands along the elf's well-toned body with a smile as he approached him from behind almost fully-clothed, leaning down on top of him to whisper instructions in his ear. "You're also going to pen a letter I dictate. And do not spill a drop." Tan complied in his heady state of blood lust, dragging the parchment in front of him with a palm. Was this one of the doctor's new little games? He didn't have time to wonder as he felt a warm liquid, a tingling fire start between his shoulderblades and river down his spine in a pleasurable descent. Heathcliff continued pouring the silky liquid from a glowing beaker within reach, a careful trail of something dark and purple dropping down Tan's divide where it would be needed most. He gasped and arched his back, roiling with anticipation.

Heathcliff established a relentless cadence, plundering mercilessly. "Pay attention now. Transcribe precisely as dictated." Tan's eyes widened as he braced himself, attempting to actually use the quill, struggling to keep it steady.

"Lady Shadowglade, How refreshing to learn our friendship can bloom... uninhibited by former arrangements." Heathcliff continued between punctuated breaths, his hair separating into wild curls from the exertion.

"Mutually beneficial opportunities await our futures—." he felt the vampire tense beneath him as he efficiently neared a quick release, Tan's moans chorusing grotesquely with the weakly shrieking patient nearby. He worked through it, unfazed, a ghastly juxtaposition. "—so let's talk about them. Come to my estate. Setup a day with my lawyer to arrange an escort—" he let his breath catch up, "—to pick you up in Silvermoon." He finished roughly as he grunted out his closing with a demanding, strained voice: "Come quickly." Tan was moving with him to a crescendo, not sure or caring if he was still supposed to be writing but finally unable to do anything but drag the tip off the page in a long, aching spill.

It was mailed the next day.

@lillandyrshadowglade

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

New SpaceTime out Monday

SpaceTime 20250203 Series 28 Episode 15

The building blocks of life discovered on the asteroid Bennu

Scientists have discovered the molecular building blocks of life in samples of the Asteroid Bennu brought back to Earth by NASA’s OSIRIS-REx spacecraft.

A new threat to planet Earth

Astronomers have detected a near Earth asteroid which could pose a threat to our planet.

New mission to investigate the moon mysterious domes

NASA is planning a new mission to study a cluster of strange dome like structures discovered on the Moon.

The Science Report

The CIA says COVID19 came from a lab in Wuhan China.

Study says Elderberry juice may be a potent tool for weight management.

Palaeontologists have discovered part of a feathered dinosaur tail preserved in a piece of amber.

Skeptics guide to UFO links with economic circumstances

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States.  The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science.  SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research.  The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network.  Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor.  Gary’s always loved science. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on his career in journalism and radio broadcasting. Gary’s radio career stretches back some 34 years including 26 at the ABC. He worked as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. He was part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and became one of its first on air presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth.  The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually.  However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage.  Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently.  StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016.  Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through Apple Podcasts (itunes), Stitcher, Google Podcast, Pocketcasts, SoundCloud, Bitez.com, YouTube, your favourite podcast download provider, and from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

[hearthfire-heartfire]

"In the most comprehensive national study since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, a team of researchers that includes a Rutgers-organized consortium of pediatric sites has concluded that long COVID symptoms in children are tangible, pervasive, wide ranging and clinically distinct within specific age groups. Results of the study, funded by the National Institutes of Health (NIH), are published in the Journal of the American Medical Association. “We have convincing evidence that COVID-19 is not just a mild, benign illness for children,” said Lawrence C. Kleinman, a professor of pediatrics and population health expert at Rutgers Robert Wood Johnson Medical School (RWJMS) and the study’s third co-author. “There are children who are clearly disabled by long COVID for long periods of time.” In the early stages of the pandemic, a myth arose and was perpetuated suggesting that because children often developed only mild cases of COVID-19, the risks for young patients were not serious. But this conjecture dissipated amid a rash of data demonstrating that a few children infected with COVID-19 will get very sick and others will suffer an array of health complications long after initial exposure. Broadly defined, long COVID includes symptoms, signs, and conditions – such as aches, fatigue, memory loss and stomach pain – that develop, persist or relapse more than a month after a COVID-19 infection. Worldwide, an estimated 65 million people, including children, live with long COVID. Until recently, most research into COVID-19’s lingering effects focused on adults. To quantify long COVID’s impact on children and determine whether symptoms experienced by the youngest COVID-19 patients differ by age group and from adults, Kleinman and more than 140 researchers throughout the United States crunched data from NIH’s Researching COVID to Enhance Recovery (RECOVER) Initiative, a national effort to survey COVID-19’s long-term impact. As part of RECOVER, caregivers for 5,367 children (898 school-aged children and 4,469 adolescents) completed online surveys about their children’s health in time for this data analysis. Roughly 86 percent of the sample had previously been infected with COVID-19, while 14 percent – the control group – had not. The survey assessed 74 known and potential long COVID-19 symptoms across nine domains: eyes, ears, nose and throat; heart and lungs; gastrointestinal; dermatologic; musculoskeletal; neurologic; behavioral and psychological; menstrual; and general. By analyzing the responses, researchers found 45 percent of COVID-19 infected school-age children (ages 6 to 11) reported at least one prolonged symptom after initial recovery versus 33 percent of uninfected children. Thirty-nine percent of COVID-19 infected adolescents (ages 12 to 17) reported one prolonged symptom, compared with 27 percent of uninfected adolescents.  These differences implicate the virus as a likely causal factor, rather than just having lived through the pandemic. Long COVID symptoms in children also were clustered in patterns distinct from adults and from each other. For instance, the most common symptom in adolescents was loss of smell and taste, followed by low energy, muscle aches and fatigue. For school-age children, memory and focus issues topped the list, followed by stomach pain, headaches and back or neck pain. Children experienced prolonged symptoms after COVID-19 infection “in almost every organ system, with the vast majority having multisystem involvement,” the authors wrote."

oh hey, remember a couple of years ago during the omicron wave when multisystem inflammatory syndrome was driving a lot of kids to go to the hospital?

[ladychaos]

🛸 ROUND 3. STRANGERVILLE. SPRING. 🛸

Main Aspiration: StrangerVille Mystery

A few weeks had passed since Myrtle had discovered the source of the infection. The first days were hard, and Myrtle tried to ignore it for a while. But it was impossible. She returned to the shop to talk to Maggie and started researching again. They came up with a plan, but it was not an easy one. She would have to ask for help, even if she was reluctant to involve more people and ask them to risk their lives. However, for all of them to go into the lab, they would need to be protected from the infection, which meant creating a vaccine. Maggie knew a scientist named Petronella Winters who was willing to help Myrtle. She had arranged for Myrtle to meet her, but the woman was very suspicious and had conditions: the meeting had to take place late at night, and no one could suspect what it was about. “She’ll wait for you at the chess table just next to the StrangerVille Information Center. Don’t be late, Myrtle.” Doctor Winters was indeed very helpful. Pretending to play chess with Myrtle, she gave her rigorous instructions to synthesize a vaccine and a sample she developed herself. She doubted that the number of pore clusters she could collect was enough for this batch to be effective, but she thought it was worth a try.

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[tomorrowusa]

Another New Disease That Trump is Weakening US Response To

We remember how COVID-19 was allowed to run rampant in the United States for 51 days before Trump bothered to declare a state of emergency on Friday the 13th of March in 2020.

With newly installed incompetent MAGA administrators and deep cuts to public health, the US is now even less prepared for any new infectious disease to hit the country.

A deadly disease which doesn't even have a name yet has hit Équateur province in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). The World Health Organization mentioned it prominently in its 16 February 2025 Bulletin.

Unknown Disease in the Democratic Republic of the Congo: The Democratic Republic of the Congo is facing multiple public health and humanitarian crises. In its northwestern Équateur Province, two clusters of cases and deaths from an unknown disease have emerged, resulting in hundreds of cases and dozens of deaths. The outbreak, which has seen cases rise rapidly within days, poses a significant public health threat. The exact cause remains unknown, with Ebola and Marburg already ruled out, raising concerns about a severe infectious or toxic agent. Key challenges include the rapid progression of the disease, with nearly half of the deaths occurring within 48 hours of symptom onset in one of the affected health zones, and an exceptionally high case fatality rate in another. Urgent action is needed to accelerate laboratory investigations, improve case management and isolation capacities, and strengthen surveillance and risk communication. [ ... ] Specimens from thirteen cases, including 12 blood samples from active cases and one swab from a deceased individual, were collected and sent to the National Institute of Biomedical Research (INRB) in Kinshasa for analysis on 11 February 2025. Test results released on 13 February 2025, showed that all samples were negative for Ebola and Marburg viruses by polymerase chain reaction (PCR). Differential diagnosis under investigation include malaria, viral haemorrhagic fever, food or water poisoning, typhoid fever, and meningitis.

So essentially, Ebola and Marburg virus have been ruled out. We do know that the fatality rate is way high.

The situation in Équateur Province presents significant public health risk, with two clusters of an unknown disease causing high morbidity and mortality. The overall case fatality ratio (12.2%), particularly high in Bolomba Health Zone (66.7%), and the rapid disease progression raise concerns about a severe infectious or toxic agent.

We should point out that this is in the northwest of the DRC – not the east where there is a de facto war going on.

The Obama administration had great success combating Ebola. There were just 11 fatalities in the US with just 2 being from infections contracted inside the country during the 2013-2014 outbreak.

Obama's national security team put together a pandemic playbook based on their success to be used by succeeding administrations. Of course Donald Trump ignored it and the result was hundreds of thousands of additional American deaths from COVID-19.

Obama team left pandemic playbook for Trump administration, officials confirm

If this new unnamed disease spreads to the US, don't expect Trump to respond competently to it.

[pencil-inc]

Do you want to know the funniest* thing about toon blood?

It is notoriously hard to clean. It might look like regular ink, but it has the properties of superglue and paint, combined.

We already had rules in place for that reason; when working on autopsy duty, direct lab samples, or even in the room with an injured toon, you wear your damn lab gear.

Every employee had monogrammed labcoats for identification. But you would also be issued your own goggles and pants to wear when working up close. Shoe covers were in every lab. There were a handful of employees that provided their own gear, but not that many. I remember one guy had these bright orange lab goggles for whatever reason.

Anyway. I'm getting off topic. Lab gear.

That's an example of one of our labcoats. I don't have mine; I burnt it when the company collapsed. Just in case.

Back to the blood, though. One day, we had an incident in one of the test rooms; our equipment was malfunctioning and our Stretch Armstrong-like subject had been caught in the machinery.

One of our technicians, Jamie (false name, as are all the other ones I'm mentioning here), hit the emergency stop button and ran inside to try and fix it directly, a labcoat on their back, crouching beside the equipment to fix the faulty sensors.

This was an emergency. If we kept our subject in that position long than they had to be there, we could kill them. Before we needed to kill them, at least. Jamie was light on their feet, and a fast worker, well respected by their department head.

But they were not fast enough.

The subject exploded 7 seconds after they stepped in.

*it's not funny. Sorry.

Jamie’s hair, eyes, and hands were coated in a wad of pitch-like black that sent them stumbling. It seeped into their roots and their half-trimmed fingernails, while they tried to plant one foot in front of the other, unable to see, unable to think, unable to walk straight. In it’s fresh state, it dribbled down in large glops of shiny tar, already hardening fast like magma.

With an uncovered mouth, their screams registered at an average of 101.4 dB inside the chamber, occurring every one to five seconds when they froze in pain and fear. A very, very founded fear.

They were later sedated and brought to our medical team. They looked pale, according to reports.

While the more covered staff collected what samples they could from the accident, Jamie spent the next 6 hours under varying amounts of sedatives, clustered by doctors and nurses who tried to dissolve, cut, grease, leverage, and pick away the ink lodged to their face, their eyesight long gone. Their world was a cacophony of sound, of hurrying, worrying people muttering reassurance into their ears while they silently begged for tears. The “crust” of the ink grew thicker by the hour. They were running out of time. All of them.

At one point, one of the doctors on duty lost their temper. In the early hours, on attempt 15, Jamie had been given an anaesthetic for a procedure when someone pushed Dr. Shelby McGuire (Head of Medical) aside. Her scalpel tumbled to the floor while Dr. Cal Chauncey— one of the stronger members of the department— grabbed a fistful of hair encased in tar, pinning their head down, deaf to the sounds of collective distress.

He pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled.

Until he fell back to the floor from his own strength, panting with effort.

He vomited, 12 seconds later, from the sight of Jamie’s eyeballs, hair, and outlined face glued to the black shell, dripping with wet, dark blood. Human blood.

Urgent reminders to keep equipment on at all times were then displayed in Research & Development, Chemical Research & Distribution, and the cells. It was talked about for a long time; one of the first lethal injuries for staff as a result of a failed test.

Not every story will be this explicit, or this gory. This one stuck in my memory for the way it went so wrong, from the unchecked equipment to the rush of emotion to the untimely death of a twenty-something engineer. I can see their face in my mind, even now, in split-second shock.

As years went on, the most people remembered of Jamie was that lanyard, hung in the Security and Maintenance office. Event became rumour, rumour became warning. Dr. Cal Chauncey's ID photos looked a lot more lifeless, and nobody got a straight answer as to why.

You fuck up sooner, you make less mistakes later. That, I think, was the only positive.

More soon.

— Reference

[acedormouse]

The Complex Chupacabra Conjugate (Chapter 2)

Summary: In mathematics, a conjugate is a value or entity having a reciprocal relation with another. In grammar, conjugation gives the different forms of a verb in an inflected language. In biology, to conjugate means to become temporarily united in order to exchange genetic material. In unusualology, the Complex Chupacabra Conjugate was a series of complex encounters Stanford Pines had with a creature that called itself el chupacabra and the bad breakup that occurred thereafter.

Chapter Summary: The third encounter. Characters: Ford Pines, Original Male Character Word Count: 3,502 Warnings: Explicit Sex :3 Contains the Following Tags: Blowjobs, Rimming, Anal Sex, Knotting, Homophobic Language, Interspecies Relationship Read on AO3

Read Chapter 1 Once again, @cyphertronix has brought a lot of joy to me in this fandom, and here is the monster sex as the biggest thank you I can think of haha Enjoy!

October 26 (Day 3: Field Research Observation Notes)

Last week, I made the most fascinating discovery! I would even say that this particular species of fungus is the second most interesting I’ve come across! (Note to self: Finish entry for the most interesting species- the Stained Glass Mushroom!) Where they are currently growing is a good distance away from my lab, so I’ve set up a campsite to conduct field research. After two days of scribbling data on clipboards, I am finally documenting in my journal. 

During the day, they look similar to the hedgehog mushroom (Hydnum repandum); they are colored the same as a pale peach, and their undersides are covered in ‘teeth’ instead of gills or pores. These ‘teeth’ are where they eject their spores for sexual reproduction. In fact, an older name for the genus is Dentinum, which refers to its tooth-like, spore-bearing structure!

This particular cluster I’ve come across is growing in a gregarious manner as a large troop on the forest floor. They are mycorrhizal mushrooms, favoring hardwood trees, and because of their symbiotic relationship, they grow in rings or arcs around their respective host tree.

What has made me document this species at all is that at night, this variant of the species glows like the sea creatures that inhabit the Bathypelagic Zone! 

Bioluminescence! 

Even more fascinating is that there is color variation only when they’re in this state. My data sheet breaks down the percentages and numbers, but I’ll note here that the most common variation is the cap to glow a rich yellow, and the ‘teeth’ a pale lavender. When I return to the lab, I can isolate the proteins from the samples I’ve gathered to showcase the full color spectrum.

I still need to search the surrounding area more thoroughly to see if any glowing chanterelles are sprouting nearby, as the two species tend to grow in the same location as each other. Is there something in the soil that causes the glow? Are the proteins only beneficial to some species of fungi? How far does this mycelium network spread?

Unfortunately, my third night of studying their spores’ appearance and reproductive cycle was interrupted by a sudden deluge of rain.

Luckily, I planned to camp out for three nights and packed for five.

Ford’s hand froze as he picked up the sound of rustling just outside his tent. He quickly stashed his journal and drew the pistol from his discarded belt, having already changed into his flannel pajamas for the night. 

As he quietly maneuvered into a crouched stance, he heard a voice from the other side of the flap. 

“Te huelo... Oigo tu respiración...”

Between the pouring rain bouncing off the fabric of his tent and the low snarl of the predator’s voice, Ford could only just make out the threat, and his grip tightened. He was still a poor shot and had only been successful enough to create three silver bullets since their last encounter; his remaining candlestick melted in hopes of protection. He hadn’t counted on running into el chupacabra this soon, nor was he certain if silver was an efficient metal to weaken the creature. In addition, those bullets sat in his bag on the opposite side of the tent while the standard ones were held at the ready.

“¿Qué quieres?What do you want?” Ford shouted, using his foot to shuffle his bag closer to him. He had to buy himself enough time to exchange ammunition, in case the conversation went sour. 

“Como dije you stink .” The voice grew closer as Ford snagged the strap of his bag between his toes. "I'm warning yousi yo puedo encontrarte, ellos también, guapito."

Ford could hear the slobbering breath too close to his ear for comfort. He bit the side of his cheek in concentration as he quietly pulled the bag across his sleeping bag. He didn’t care to think about what the creature meant by ‘they.’ “Thank you, but I can protect myself just fine. I suggest you move along before I show you what I mean.” 

“Idiota! I’m offering protection!”

“You think I'm stupid? It’s pouring! Rain clears the air column of scent molecules!”

“Por favor - open the tent and listen.”

Ford sighed in relief as he finally pulled the bag close enough to retrieve the silver bullets from their container. “¿Por qué? Did you suddenly learn how to use protection magic?”

Lo que sé es como… la magia.

Ford didn’t believe that, but his curiosity was piqued. He unzipped a small portion of the tent, just enough that he could feel the rain wet his cheeks. He peered out, and a set of familiar red eyes peered right back.

“Explicarte de inmediato,” Ford flashed the barrel of his gun through the partially open flap. “I won’t miss this time.”

The beast snorted in amusement before continuing. “Durante un ritual de apareamiento, mi especie marcar su a parejas."

“You mark what during what kind of ritual?” Ford inquired. 

“Pareja… is like a partner? Apareamiento - sabes , sex?”

Ford had done more than his fair share of research on different types of magical rituals, so hearing the words ‘ritual’ and ‘sex’ in the same sentence only meant one thing. “Really? A mating ritual? That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Es verdad y además... you’re un científico, sí? A real scientist? I see you writing in that book, and you have all that stuff in the woods. Won’t you regret it more if I’m right? Aren't you curious?”

Stanford broke his gaze and looked back inside his tent. He’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t thought about their last encounter. The way he had been pinned without warning, the thrill of being chased, knowing one wrong step could have gotten him killed. When he returned home that night, Ford lay awake in bed, rerunning the scenario in his mind again and again. He hadn’t asked señor Chupacabra what would have happened if it had caught him, but his dreams certainly crafted a rousing, carnal ending that left him in a sticky, confused mess.

He wanted answers.

"Te escucho, sigue.”

“Magical beasts like me have an advanced sense of smell more than your average predator. If I mark you, none of those monsters will dare hurt you. You can study them without fear.”

Stanford mulled over his thoughts, fiddling with the pistol still in his hand. He hadn’t exchanged the bullets, and he wasn’t sure what was preventing him from completing that task.

No, he knew why he hadn't. 

With a pleased hum, Ford put his pistol away, though, hid it within arm's reach.

“Dos problemas - la carpa se queda pequeño... and I’m not going out in that rain to have sex.”

Ford’s legs were yanked by the ankle, his flannel pajama bottoms quickly became soaked in the downpour; his lower body exposed to the downpour and the wolf's vices, while his torso and head remained sheltered.

“ I don’t need to be inside the tent to fuck you.”

Ford writhed out of his pajamas, cursing how the wet fabric stuck to his skin. When they were finally discarded, the beastman reached under and around Ford’s upper legs, pulling and bending them upright to expose his lukewarm cock and tight ass to the cold night air. Claws dug deep into the soft flesh of his thighs as the creature pressed its wet nose against his perineum and sac. Ford panted as he watched the creature take a deep sniff and make a face in disgust. It laughed and pressed its distended snout closer into the mess of deep brown curls and the underside of his awakening erection. “Aaah sí, apestas. You’re so lucky I found you first.” 

A rough tongue lolled out against the stretch of sensitive skin and Ford sucked in a shuddering breath. It'd been a long time since he'd last been intimate with someone; his isolating lifestyle and subpar communication skills were hardly conducive to a healthy, active social life. The creature nuzzled and licked Ford’s hardening cock with fervent intent, savoring the musky aroma. He was unsuccessful in muffling the moan that escaped him as he was cradled fully inside the hot, eager maw. There was something erotic about rows of dangerous carnivore teeth brushing against his shaft. Stanford choked on a moan as he felt the tongue suddenly probe at his entrance.

“Muy bien, relájate guapo."

He attempted to clamp his thighs around the beast’s head, but its grip was far stronger than his desire to protest the rousing manipulation. It didn’t take long for Ford to relax enough for the intrusion to slip inside smoothly.

He hadn’t realized he had been gradually lifting his hips, bare feet dug in the mud so he could hoist himself further into his companion’s awaiting mouth. Luckily, the action was noticed, and the creature’s grip switched to firmly taking hold of the back of his calves. Ford practically wailed at this new angle, the slobbering tongue forced further inside at the sudden shift. He had to balance on the tips of his toes to get the full contact his body craved. Propping his torso up on his elbows didn’t feel good enough. Through the rustling of blankets on top of his waterproof sleeping bag, Ford managed to arch his back completely off the tarp, and only his shoulders and head lay against his disarrayed sleeping arrangements. He reached his arms high enough to grip the tufts of fur on top of the creature’s head, one even wrapping around a perked ear. All his weight was now supported by the clawed digits digging into his calves, and it partly relied on his own grip not faltering. Ford was embarrassed by the whine he emitted when the beastman pulled out with a hearty laugh, his hold fumbling for a second at the shock at the sudden lack of pressure.

“I love when I find maricóns like you!”

Ford had come across that word a few times, had been called variations of it in college, and he hated how his blush to spread down his neck and a rather pathetic twitch of his cock to leak watery precum onto the creature’s awaiting tongue.

“I-you… n-no estoy,” he stumbled over both languages, words in either scrambled in his overheated brain. “I’m not- I’m not a… oooh fuck .”

That demonic tongue lapped at his relaxed entrance, prodding the tip inside teasingly. “¿Estás seguro? You moan like one,” it taunted, grazing its teeth along the fleshy, vulnerable shaft in its mouth. "Y reconozco un passivo cuando lo oigo." The hot breaths that came alongside each word sent Ford’s mind spiraling. He could feel bubbling saliva dripping down his ass and the sound of it hitting the floor blended in with the continuous rainfall. His hips shook in anticipation, impatiently squirming in hopes that it would continue eating him out. The beast gave a toothy grin, though this time with more desire than mockery, before pressing the entirety of his tongue inside.

It didn’t pause to give Ford a single moment of thought as it delved deep in along rippling, pink walls. “Oooh, god…ooh, fffff-uuuck," he moaned. The tongue gave enough of a stretch to burn, and it writhed like a live specimen inside his lower digestive tract. It ravaged him like it was already fucking him- as though Ford was his last meal on this plane of existence.

“Please, please, please,” he couldn’t stop pleading, nails scratching into its fur as the heat in his body rose. “P-por favor… no te de-detengaaaaas.”

Its muzzle swallowed him further, its tongue pressed flush against his prostate, making his thighs shake. He cried out at the building pleasure, rutting his hips against its savage tongue. The creature moved incessantly inside him as it hungrily invaded and penetrated him fully. The werewolf growled, and the noise, in turn, made his tongue vibrate. Ford’s eyes rolled back, and he lifted his body even higher against the wolf. Shifting enough, he could now feel the hot erection brush against his lower shin; his stomach tightened at the thought of that fucking him raw. “Gonna cum- gonna cum- please, fuck…” 

The creature pulled back, snarling to reveal its glistening muzzle and, with surprising tenderness, lowered Ford’s twitching legs to rest on top of its muscular thighs. Clawed digits reached into his mouth, the rough pads pressed down against his lower incisors, preventing Ford from formulating any complaint. His breaths came out hard and fast, pleas reduced to high-pitched whines. He rutted his hips downward, desperate to rub himself against the red cock just centimeters away. The grip on his hips prevented him from getting any closer. Ford watched as the beast’s cock drooled profusely with precum, trickling thickly along the stiff shaft and down to its hairy balls.

“Mi putito goloso,” it growled affectionately, digging its claws enough into his skin to cause droplets of blood to rise. “You act like I’m not going to fuck you. Ooh, eres tan lindo cuando eres patético.” 

The beastman made quick work of flipping Ford over and dragged him up by the hips, face smothered into the sea of blankets by one of its large paws, and pressed the tip of its cock against his losened sphincter. It teased him, slowly allowing it to stretch him out with a pleasing sting.

Ford bit into the blanket below him and choked out, “Métemela."

The fat head finally pushed inside and all Ford thought as drool seeped into the fabric clenched between his teeth was that the shape of its cock spread his backside out nicely. It removed one set of claws from his waist to push his ass further apart. Rain continued to pelt down, droplets collecting on his exposed lower back, and Ford couldn’t distinguish between the sweat, spit, and rain racing in tandem down his back.

With a solid thrust, the massive werewolf sank fully into his well-opened body with a loud squelching sound. Rugged gasps and cries escaped Ford’s clenched jaw as he felt his insides morph to accommodate its intruder. 

"Bueno, mírate tomándome como si no fuera nada como el maricón que eres.” The wolf’s voice was strained, and Ford didn’t have a functioning brain cell that could translate. 

“You hear me, maricón, or are you too fucked out already?” 

Ford didn’t know how he got the words out; his throat was dry, and it was exceedingly difficult to make the proper connections to formulate a coherent thought.

“That’s too bad,” it jested, achingly, it began to pull out. “Tenía muchas ganas de hacerlo.” 

“Quiero que me cojas!” he blurted, appalled at himself at how quickly he managed to make that demand, appalled at the hours and hours he had poured into teaching himself Spanish so he could make a demand like that at all. But here he was, already far too deep into this situation to be disgusted at himself. Grateful to have his back turned, he tightened his relaxed hole to try to prevent the beast from pulling out any further. Through flannel and gritted teeth, he added, “ Por favor .”

His partner hummed, the sound so deep Ford swore he could feel it travel straight through its cock, and kneaded its padded digits into the tender flesh of Ford’s raised backside. “Vale, eso me gusta más.”

Without much of a warning, it thrust back inside like it had never had sex before in its life and would never do so again.

Ford’s teeth finally let go of the blanket with a sharp curse. He moaned wantonly and loud enough that he wagered every living thing in the surrounding woods knew what he was up to. The sound of skin meeting fur never ceased, each thrust as relentless as the last as though the beast’s cock was allergic to the oxygen of their atmosphere. “Tu lugar está aquí putito. You’re gonna keep my cock warm with that loose hole of yours.”

It hunched over, muzzle wet, and started lapping the side of his neck; the new angle and added stimulus caused Ford to choke on a strained appeal. The thick veins of its girthy cock rubbed furiously against his prostrate and Stanford finally connected his fried nerves to his hand. Slick with sweat and drool, his hand glided over his cock in a shaky attempt at getting himself off.

The wolf's sharp fangs sank into his shoulder, but Ford could barely feel the pain blossoming along the beads of blood staining the inside of his remaining clothes. The feeling was indescribable, pleasure swam in every mile of artery as though he was overjoyed with the notion of becoming this creature’s cocksleeve.

“Mierda, a mi putita le gustó eso, huh? You’re an even bigger maricón than I thought!”

One paw reached underneath his shirt, claws raking across one of his pecs before clutching it like it was his lifeline. The beast massaged the rough pads of his fingers into the tender muscle, scratches and blood soon matching the patterns on his thighs. 

Ford squeezed the head of his dick and groaned hoarsely. His vision was blurry, and any word he tried to formulate came out strained and incomprehensible. He couldn’t focus on any particular sensation, all of them bleeding together, and his mind was all but a photograph left in a tray of developer for too long. The shadows overexposed and taking over his field of vision.

“Voy a vengo dentro de ti tanto yo te haré embarazada guapito." The hand that had been groping his chest moved to his stomach, pawing at the soft, malleable flesh. “��Comprendes?”

Ford did not fucking understand but knew a confirmation was required for this to continue.

He nodded urgently.

Bursting with an untamed possessiveness, the wolf howled, the base of his cock rapidly increasing in size. Ford hissed in pain as the knot caught and was shoved inside with a wet pop. The amount was excessive, and Ford could feel each strand of cum being pumped into him. A sense of nausea overwhelmed him. His hazed mind just barely comprehended the beast's tongue, licking whatever exposed skin it was closest to, almost as if trying to comfort him.

The knot remained swollen for some time, releasing small bursts of semen as the creature emptied months of pent-up desire into the mess of a man below it. It continued to cover him with his body, a hand still present on the growing swell of Ford’s stomach. 

Ford dared to look down between his legs at his stuffed belly, his cum-coated hand cradling his softening cock that was suddenly too sensitive for him to even hold. He let go gently, spreading his fingers apart to revel in how long he must have been pent up. Fuck, he hadn’t even realized that he came.

The wolf gave a low whistle followed by a soft laugh. “Damn…. you really do look pregnant, don’t you?”

With that, it finally released him, and Stanford collapsed onto his uncomfortably damp sleeping bag. The beast continued to lick his body gently, including his abused, leaking hole. It stopped when Ford found enough energy to sit up, backing its head back outside of the tent. He groaned and rubbed at his face, sniffing the air curiously. It wasn’t… great. ‘ Unless you’re someone who likes the smell of wet dog and sex in a boy’s locker room… ’

“You’re… certain this will help me? I think even more predators can smell me than before.”

“Yes- what they smell on you is me. They’ll keep away if they’re smart.”

Ford nodded and winced; the bite on his shoulder was starting to throb uncomfortably in pain. “Then…. gracious... por la ayuda.”

The creature grunted and turned abruptly. “I need to eat,” its voice was low with amusement. “Want me to bring you anything?”

Ford’s stomach churned at the thought of another goat carcass being brought to his tent. He covered up a nauseating burp with his hand and shook his head. “No, thank you… Do you intend on returning tonight then?”

The beast paused, tail swishing in thought before turning its head back. “Why? I’m only interesting to you at night, and you don’t want food.”

“I intend to get a sample of your blood. I also need you to keep still so I can accurately sketch you for my research. There are a few other things I’d like to get done before dawn as well.”

“You can stay awake longer?”

“You’d be surprised at the all-nighters I’ve pulled.”

It laughed charmingly, facing back towards him, those crimson eyes peered straight into him. “Then I didn’t do I very good job at fucking you. Adiú guapito.” Without waiting for a reply, it gave a final lick along Ford’s neck before disappearing under the cover of darkness and foliage.

Ford failed to document how much he threw up when he was certain the beast was gone.

Or that by the time it returned, he had fallen asleep.

~~~Translations~~~

Te huelo… Oigo tu respiración.. - I can hear you… I can smell you.

Como dije - Like I said

Si yo puedo encontrarte, ellos también, guapito. - If I can find you, so can they, handsome.

Idiota! - Idiot

¿Por qué? - Why?

Lo que sé es como… la magia. - What I know it…. like magic.

Explicarte de inmediato. - Explain yourself right now.

Durante un ritual de apareamiento, mi especie marcar su a parejas. - During a mating ritual, my species marks their partner.

Es verdad y además… - It's true and besides…

Te escucho, sigue. - I'm listening, go on.

Dos problemas - la carpa se queda pequeño… - Two problems- the tent is too small…

Aaah sí, apestas - Ah yes, you stink.

Muy bien, relájate guapo - Very good, just relax handsome

Maricóns - faggots

No estoy - I'm not

¿Estás seguro? - Are you sure?

Y reconozco un passivo cuando lo oigo. - And I know a bottom when I hear one.

Por favor… no te detengas. - Please don't stop.

Mi putito goloso - My greedy little slut

Ooh, eres tan lindo cuando eres patético. - Ooh, you're so cute when you're pathetic.

Métemela - Put it in me.

Bueno, mírate tomándome como si no fuera nada como el maricón que eres. - Well, look at you taking me like I'm nothing like the faggot you are.

Tenía muchas ganas de hacerlo. - I was really looking forward to it.

Quiero que me cojas! - Fuck me!

Vale, eso me gusta más. - Alright, that's more like it.

Tu lugar está aquí putito. - Your place is here little slut.

Mierda, a mi putita le gustó eso, huh? - Shit, my little slut liked that, huh?

Voy a vengo dentro de ti tanto yo te haré embarazada guapito. - I'm going to come inside you so much I'll make you pregnant pretty boy.

¿Comprendes? - You understand?

Gracious por la ayuda. - Thank you for the help.

Adiú guapito. - Bye pretty boy.

[the-npd-culture-is]

quick post on NPD (narcissistic personality disorder) :

"Narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) is a complex personality disorder often detected with other affective and personality disorders. [...] NPD is under the umbrella of Cluster B personality disorders, which include antisocial personality disorder, histrionic personality disorder, and borderline personality disorder."

- National library of medicine (ncbi.nlm.nih.gov) [https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK556001/]

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"Genetic and non-genetic influences on the hierarchy of traits that delineate personality disorder as measured by the Dimensional Assessment of Personality Problems (DAPP-DQ) scale were examined using data from a sample of 483 volunteer twin pairs (236 monozygotic pairs and 247 dizygotic pairs). [...] Additive genetic effects and unique environmental effects emerged as the primary influences on these scales, with unique environmental influences accounting for the largest proportion of the variance for most traits at all levels of the hierarchy."

- Jang KL, Livesley WJ, Vernon PA, Jackson DN. Heritability of personality disorder traits: a twin study. Acta Psychiatr Scand. 1996 Dec;94(6):438-44. doi: 10.1111/j.1600-0447.1996.tb09887.x. PMID: 9020996. [https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/9020996/]

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i hate how people online tend to water down the initial definitions and jump into conclusions. no one said "it's caused by childhood trauma." stop putting things into a box when they're way more complex and diverse and nuanced.

npd is primarily caused by trauma but very often individuals have a genetic predisposition to npd.

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flags

since there are two flags for npd that ive seen floating around, and since I've had people asking me why i chose the first one for this npd blog over the other, and some have never seen the first one before, im gonna give a quick explanation for both :

the first flag is the npd flag. it represents the disorder itself.

created by @/beyond-mogai-pride-flags on august 1, 2017 : https://www.tumblr.com/beyond-mogai-pride-flags/163661799375/narcissistic-personality-disorder-flag

"Design choice: the artist chose pastel pinks and yellows as they are very eye-catching colors that feel like very "outgoing" colors. In line with the outgoing and self assured face that people with NPD project, the pink is associated with confidence and the yellow with insecurity and anxiety. The purple is for royal purple, in the center, to represent the focus on self."

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the second flag is the npd awareness flag. it's a flag representing everyone fighting for npd awareness, that including non-npd allies.

created by @/npdsafe then rebloged with the stripe meanings by @/liom-archive : https://www.tumblr.com/liom-archive/725390566188285952/npdsafe-npd-awareness-flag-i-wanted-to-make-a

concerning the second flag, there is also an alternate npd awareness flag :

created by @/npd flag : https://www.tumblr.com/npdflag/694773969935630336/an-alternate-version-of-the-npd-awareness-flag-by

♚-♔-♚-♔-♚-♔-♚-♔-♚-♔-♚-♔-♚-♔-♚-♔

the reason i chose the first flag is, well, mostly because it's the first that appeared in the research bar lol, but also because i wanted to highlight and focus on the disorder itself instead of using the more generalised flag. to me it felt a bit like using the LGBTQ ally flag instead of the flag of a specific sexuality. on top of that, the majority if not all npd related accounts are using the second flag, so i wanted to make something a bit more unique with my blog presentation. and finally, i just like aesthetically the first one more hehe.

both flags are awesome and you are free to prefer one over the other, aesthetically or for any other reason. i simply chose to use one over the other for simplicity.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

By Vijay Kumar Malesu

In a recent pre-print study posted to bioRxiv*, a team of researchers investigated the predictive role of gut microbiome composition during acute Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome Coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2) infection in the development of Long Coronavirus Disease (Long COVID) (LC) and its association with clinical variables and symptom clusters.

Background LC affects 10–30% of non-hospitalized individuals infected with SARS-CoV-2, leading to significant morbidity, workforce loss, and an economic impact of $3.7 trillion in the United States (U.S.).

Symptoms span cardiovascular, gastrointestinal, cognitive, and neurological issues, resembling myalgic encephalomyelitis and other post-infectious syndromes. Proposed mechanisms include immune dysregulation, neuroinflammation, viral persistence, and coagulation abnormalities, with emerging evidence implicating the gut microbiome in LC pathogenesis.

Current studies focus on hospitalized patients, limiting generalizability to milder cases. Further research is needed to explore microbiome-driven predictors in outpatient populations, enabling targeted diagnostics and therapies for LC’s heterogeneous and complex presentation.

About the study The study was approved by the Mayo Clinic Institutional Review Board and recruited adults aged 18 years or older who underwent SARS-CoV-2 testing at Mayo Clinic locations in Minnesota, Florida, and Arizona from October 2020 to September 2021. Participants were identified through electronic health record (EHR) reviews filtered by SARS-CoV-2 testing schedules.

Eligible individuals were contacted via email, and informed consent was obtained. Of the 1,061 participants initially recruited, 242 were excluded due to incomplete data, failed sequencing, or other issues. The final cohort included 799 participants (380 SARS-CoV-2-positive and 419 SARS-CoV-2-negative), providing 947 stool samples.

Stool samples were collected at two-time points: weeks 0–2 and weeks 3–5 after testing. Samples were shipped in frozen gel packs via overnight courier and stored at −80°C for downstream analyses. Microbial deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA) was extracted using Qiagen kits, and metagenomic sequencing was performed targeting 8 million reads per sample.

Taxonomic profiling was conducted using Kraken2, and functional profiling was performed using the Human Microbiome Project Unified Metabolic Analysis Network (HUMAnN3).

Stool calprotectin levels were measured using enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay (ELISA), and SARS-CoV-2 ribonucleic acid (RNA) was detected using reverse transcription-quantitative polymerase chain reaction (RT-qPCR).

Clinical data, including demographics, comorbidities, medications, and symptom persistence, were extracted from EHRs.

Machine learning models incorporating microbiome and clinical data were utilized to predict LC and to identify symptom clusters, providing valuable insights into the heterogeneity of the condition.

Study results The study analyzed 947 stool samples collected from 799 participants, including 380 SARS-CoV-2-positive individuals and 419 negative controls. Of the SARS-CoV-2-positive group, 80 patients developed LC during a one-year follow-up period.

Participants were categorized into three groups for analysis: LC, non-LC (SARS-CoV-2-positive without LC), and SARS-CoV-2-negative. Baseline characteristics revealed significant differences between these groups. LC participants were predominantly female and had more baseline comorbidities compared to non-LC participants.

The SARS-CoV-2-negative group was older, with higher antibiotic use and vaccination rates. These variables were adjusted for in subsequent analyses.

During acute infection, gut microbiome diversity differed significantly between groups. Alpha diversity was lower in SARS-CoV-2-positive participants (LC and non-LC) than in SARS-CoV-2-negative participants.

Beta diversity analyses revealed distinct microbial compositions among the groups, with LC patients exhibiting unique microbiome profiles during acute infection.

Specific bacterial taxa, including Faecalimonas and Blautia, were enriched in LC patients, while other taxa were predominant in non-LC and negative participants. These findings indicate that gut microbiome composition during acute infection is a potential predictor for LC.

Temporal analysis of gut microbiome changes between the acute and post-acute phases revealed significant individual variability but no cohort-level differences, suggesting that temporal changes do not contribute to LC development.

However, machine learning models demonstrated that microbiome data during acute infection, when combined with clinical variables, predicted LC with high accuracy. Microbial predictors, including species from the Lachnospiraceae family, significantly influenced model performance.

Symptom analysis revealed that LC encompasses heterogeneous clinical presentations. Fatigue was the most prevalent symptom, followed by dyspnea and cough.

Cluster analysis identified four LC subphenotypes based on symptom co-occurrence: gastrointestinal and sensory, musculoskeletal and neuropsychiatric, cardiopulmonary, and fatigue-only.

Each cluster exhibited unique microbial associations, with the gastrointestinal and sensory clusters showing the most pronounced microbial alterations. Notably, taxa such as those from Lachnospiraceae and Erysipelotrichaceae families were significantly enriched in this cluster.

Conclusions To summarize, this study demonstrated that SARS-CoV-2-positive individuals who later developed LC exhibited distinct gut microbiome profiles during acute infection. While prior research has linked the gut microbiome to COVID-19 outcomes, few studies have explored its predictive potential for LC, particularly in outpatient cohorts.

Using machine learning models, including artificial neural networks and logistic regression, this study found that microbiome data alone predicted LC more accurately than clinical variables, such as disease severity, sex, and vaccination status.

Key microbial contributors included species from the Lachnospiraceae family, such as Eubacterium and Agathobacter, and Prevotella spp. These findings highlight the gut microbiome’s potential as a diagnostic tool for identifying LC risk, enabling personalized interventions.

*Important notice: bioRxiv publishes preliminary scientific reports that are not peer-reviewed and, therefore, should not be regarded as conclusive, guide clinical practice/health-related behavior, or treated as established information.

Journal reference: Preliminary scientific report. Isin Y. Comba, Ruben A. T. Mars, Lu Yang, et al. (2024) Gut Microbiome Signatures During Acute Infection Predict Long COVID, bioRxiv. doi:https://doi.org/10.1101/2024.12.10.626852. www.biorxiv.org/content/10.1101/2024.12.10.626852v1.full

[noodleblade]

Can I ask for 17. noticing their individual quirks from the blossoming romance prompt list with Simpatico? <3

WHAT A COINCIDENCE THAT I STARTED REWRITING LIKE 3 HOURS BEFORE I SAY THE POST ABOUT YOUR BIRTHDAY!! Anyways, Happy Belated Birthday!!! Enjoy some simpatico nonsense:)

Ao3 Link Here

Perceptor narrowed his optics down at the pile of clutter before him. Clutter was a kind, professional, polite way of describing explosive havoc of disorder and chaos that made up the dimensions of Brainstorm’s desk. Disgusting was another word that came to mind. 

::How do you live like this?::  

::Oh please, let’s not exaggerate. It’s not that bad.:: came Brainstorm’s groan. 

It was not an exaggeration. If anything, it was an understatement. 

Perceptor’s internal processors had a difficult time distinguishing just what exactly he was looking at. The only way to actually piece through what was on the desk was to deconstruct it layer by layer. A cross-section analysis.

The bottom-most layer- the foundation, if you will -were dried dribbles of fuel intermingled with a noxious dusting of sentiment and dirt. One of Perceptor’s background scanners identified a cluster of granulated particles to be aged candied energon treat crumbs. An entire rust strick made the foundation brick, its sticky residue gluing it to the hard surface of the desk. Perceptor idly pondered if its removal would cause the entire system to fall apart. And while his internal protocols desperately would like the area cleaned, organized and sanitary, he was not willing to find out if his hypothesis was correct. 

Cemented to this foundational core layer was the secondary mantle layer. This, from what Perceptor could read, was a scattering of notes all in Brainstorm’s sloppy, near illegible scribble. Tattered napkin bits from Swerve’s and printed notices from Ultra Magnus acted as the canvas for dynamic invention designs, schematics and impossible (and implausible) equations with attached nonsensical theorems. Several datapads acted as structural weights. When flicked on, Perceptor wasn’t sure if he felt amusement, exasperation or a sickly, prickling bashfulness in seeing several of his academic research papers and studies riddled with extensive notes, doodles and elaborations from Brainstorm. 

It didn’t take away from the utter disaster that was Brainstorm’s work space but it did soften the blow. Still, Perceptor would prefer if his research wasn’t adding to the disgusting catastrophe that made up Brainstorm’s desk. Perhaps a bookshelf or three would greatly benefit organization.

Level three- the crust -was as troublesome as the other two layers of clutter, if not more prone to disaster by their fragile and incongruous shapes. Trinkets , Brainstorm affectionately called them. Garbage , Perceptor was more keen on describing. In truth, they probably served best as paperweights, however haphazardly placed they were. 

The sentimentality was not missed on Perceptor and a part of him could even find the collection charming. Endearing. 

Perceptor had bared witness to the slow accumulation over the course of the Lost Light’s journey but had never really taken the time to truly examine them. Now he did, his optics scanning over the seemingly random series of objects: little samples of rock, crystal, fossil collected on pit-stop planets, a Rodi-Star for Temporal Excellence half hanging off the desk, a cluster of thumb drive stocked with films, music, and other media either gifted or stolen from Rewind- Perceptor was still not sure. Little gadgets and doodles from Nautica were in abundance and horrible tiny contractions built by Whirl intermingled with them. There was even a small toy-like bauble on the corner of his desk from Chromedome, Perceptor had been present when the Mnemosurgeon had left it there and Brainstorm never moved it, simply fiddled with it absentmindedly while mulling over his work before throwing it back to the corner of his desk.

All these items, papers and dirt and yet Perceptor still did not actually find what he was looking for. 

With a heavy sign, Perceptor responded to the insisting ping in his comms. 

::How do you expect me to find anything on your desk?:: 

Brainstorm’s response was bitingly quick. ::What are you talking about? Everything is organized!::

::It’s garbage, Brainstorm.::

::Use that brilliant mind of yours and you’ll see everything has a purpose.::

::What purpose do Ultra Magnus’s cease orders from 28 cycles ago have?:: Perceptor didn’t dare touch the fragile, lopsided stack in fear of it tumbling down and only adding to the mess. 

::They are counterbalances. Don’t move them or the desk will collapse.:: Perceptor had no doubt in the truth of that statement even if its intent was a joke.

::We are cleaning this when you return to the ship.::

::It doesn’t need any cleaning! I know where everything is!:

Perceptor let out a derisive snort. He could picture perfectly the little fluttering of Brainstorm’s ailerons, his hands moving in frustration. 

::The tell me where your cathetometer is.::

It was the reason for this call in the first place. For rare occasion, Perceptor had the lab to himself with Brainstorm accompanying Rodimus’s small expedition team. It’s not Perceptor’s fault his colleague forgot his equipment but he was not about to be a complete aft in not assisting. He just wasn’t going to personally dig through Brainstorm’s garbage heap of a desk alone. 

::Hmm, if you don’t see it in top it’s probably in one of the drawers.::

Perceptor rounded the desk to see six drawers lining the sides of the desk with three on each side. 

::Which one?::

::The left side. I keep the important stuff there.::

Perceptor raised an optic ridge and couldn’t help but ask ::And what do you keep on the right?::

::Come on Percy, let me have a little mystery, a touch in intrigue.::

::Nevermind, I don’t want to know.::

Perceptor didn’t need to be present to know Brainstorm was pouting, blast mask intact or not. Even hundreds of meters between them and Perceptor knew a pouting, sulking Brainstorm anywhere. 

::You’re no fun.::

::Yes I am.:: Perceptor replied back as he started with the top drawer, pulling it open only to find it crammed to the brim with even more data pads. All of them pressed together to a block so not even a tiny piece of dust could enter. Perceptor slammed the drawer shut. ::How do you live like this?:: he found himself reiterating. 

::Oh, not fun loving Perceptor still complaining about my desk. Is that fun? Cleaning and organizing?::

::You’re a scientist. How do you find anything in this?::

::Tell me how you are fun in explicit detail and I’ll tell you my organizational strategies. We can make a date of it.::

Perceptor snorted as he opened the second drawer. This was filled with several instruments and after some careful digging, he found the cathetometer . ::We can clean your desk together.::

::You must be a hit at the club, Percy. Really. Absolute stud. What moves do you have? The pencil sharpener? The label maker? The file organizer? Actually, you can’t claim that one. Minimus invented and perfected that one. ::

Perceptor could have told Brainstorm at any moment that he had found what the other mech was looking for but, he held onto the tool for a moment, softly smiling to himself as Brainstorm rambled insults to him. It shouldn’t be charming, it shouldn’t be amusing, it shouldn’t bubble up any sort of affection. And yet. 

::I’ve seen you dance, Brainstorm. I wouldn’t speak so confidentially with what you’ve demonstrated.::

::Are you saying Minimus is a better dancer than me? Because you surely can be saying that you are a better dancer. I mean, I think you’ll fall apart if you stepped foot on the dance floor.::

::It hasn’t happened yet.::

::When have you been dancing at Swerve’s? Before or after you deep clean and detail your desk every day?::

::Funny.::

Without even thinking about it, Perceptor opened the third drawer. He stopped as it slid open, its few contents rocking in the sway. Recognition lit his processor in a warm, shy heat.

::I’m hilarious. So funny and smart and amazing and talented and resourceful. Speaking of resourceful…did you find the my cathetometer yet? I put googly eyes on it. For personality. Can’t miss it.::

Perceptor felt the warmth spread across his faceplates. ::I did.::

::Oh Percy, I could kiss you. Tailgate is almost back at the ship if you can give it to him. The mods to his hoverboard make him almost as fast as Rodimus. He’s pissed. Anyways I told you it would be easy to find. All my important stuff is.::

Perceptor barely heard a word of what Brainstorm said. Only sending back a short affirmative as he stared at the drawer. 

::Perceptor? You alright?::

With a sharp invent, Perceptor closed the drawer shut firmly. 

::Perfectly fine. I’ll be ready to pass it off to Tailgate. I’m clearing your schedule for the next cycle. We are cleaning your desk. I can’t work knowing you are working like this.::

::Percy! It’s fine. I don’t need your shitty excuse for a date-::

::It’s not a date.:: Perceptor swiftly cut off. ::This is a work hazard that is being remedied immediately.::

Brainstorm’s response was muted, delayed. ::Okay, okay. We’ll clean it up. I’m sure you’ll have a checklist and everything.::

Perceptor let a small smile come to his face even though he could hear the telltale rumbling of Tailgate’s juiced up hoverboard. ::Of course. You shouldn’t expect anything less from me. If you manage to get it done by shift’s end, I’ll buy you a drink. Maybe if you are lucky, we can dance.::

Brainstorm’s next several responses were streams of incoherent stutters that formed a very excitable agreement. Perceptor didn’t feel the need to continue the chatter as he passed over the tool to Tailgate who only gave him a slightly confused look at his smile. Perceptor didn’t care, not when he knew what lay at the bottom of Brainstorm’s important drawer. 

Sentimental fool.  

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

New SpaceTime out Monday

SpaceTime 20250414 Series 28 Episode 45

Why does the lunar have less water than the Earth facing side

Lunar rocks collected by China’s Chang'e-6 sample return mission suggest the Moon’s far side is far drier that its Earth facing side.

The asteroid targeting the Moon

Asteroid 2024 YF4 which came to fame after it was designated a possible Earth impactor now appears to be targeting the Moon.

How singing stars expose their galactic past

Astronomers studying the Messier 67 open star cluster have used stellar seismology to determine how stars in the cluster have evolved over cosmic time.

The Science Report

The diabetes drug linked to a lower risk of Alzheimer's and dementia.

Questions over claims the extinct dire wolf has been resurrected.

How ancient famers brought fishing to the Pyrenean mountains

Skeptics guide to the flood of misinformation in Nutrition advice

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through your favourite podcast download provider or from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States.  The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science.  SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research.  The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network.  Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor.  Gary’s always loved science. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on his career in journalism and radio broadcasting. Gary’s radio career stretches back some 34 years including 26 at the ABC. He worked as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. He was part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and became one of its first on air presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth. That compares to the ABC’s overall radio listenership of just 5.6 per cent. The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually.  However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage.  Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently.  StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016.  Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

[askvectorprime]

Dear, Vector Prime.

What were Daniel Witwicky, Shawn Berger, and Dr. Fujiyama/Hamada like at Tyran cluster?

Dear Human Ally,

“Daniel” is actually an old Witwicky family name. Archibald Witwicky had an older brother named Daniel who tragically died fighting for the Union in the American Civil War. Herbert Witwicky would consequently name one of his sons Daniel in his honor, though he didn’t quite live up to his namesake’s legacy, ending up as a failed stand-up comedian-turned-Burger House manager. Still, he was always a highlight at Witwicky family reunions for the younger members of the family, particularly for the mischief he would get up to with his nephews Sam and Butch, the latter whom he affectionately called “Buster.” After the Battle of Chicago, Buster married his high-school sweetheart Jessie and they had their own son Daniel, named in honor of his great-uncle. The rise of Cemetery Wind soon put a target on most of the Witwicky family due to their affiliations with the Autobots, and Buster was forced to go into hiding alongside his partner Backfire to protect his family. Still a baby when his father left, Daniel heard stories about him from his mother and is now determined to find out what became of him following Cemetery Wind’s dissolution.

Shawn Berger was a human collaborator of the Decepticons in the 1980s. Through his cutthroat business practices in real estate markets and on Wall Street, he helped move money around to finance the Decepticons’ numerous machinations over the decades. Berger also had political aspirations, which were thankfully never realized once he had outlived his usefulness and was killed by Laserbeak.

Dr. Hamada Fujiyama was a scientist studying Transformium for Kinetic Solutions Incorporated. He was instrumental in the development of their Transformer program and personally assisted in the creation of Galvatron. After their creations rebelled, Fujiyama was thrown under the bus and fired by the company. Before leaving, however, he stole a sample of Transformium for himself, planning to continue his research alone.