#chromosome mapping

[tenth-sentence]

He outlined a new research programme which included studies in human chromosome mapping, human genetic aberrations, and cytogenetic studies on human cell and tissue cultures.

"Frankenstein's Footsteps: Science, Genetics and Popular Culture" - Jon Turney

[saltedteas]

Oh yeah more of the big silly (cuiver, the dwarf caiman)

[cyprozombiegirl]

The Truth About Biological Sex: It’s made up and the three things they use to define it are whack

So obviously your gender is whatever the fuck you feel like it is. But also it’s important to remember biological sex is just a made up category and not only is it made up but it’s made up of 3 determining characteristics: chromosomes, genitalia, and hormones. Chromosomes are initially very important in sexed development because they function sorta like a map for the direction your body figures it is gonna take. But that’s all they are, a map, a plan. There’s a reason no one really checks them, because why would you, they only tell you what the body was initially intending to do, and you can see what the body has done right in front of you so why would you need to check what it intended to do. Second is genitals, which are changeable and very similar to each other. They’re important in child creation but beyond that they’re largely swappable and made of the same tissue etc. Then there is hormones, these MFs are important, cause they basically regulate ever other sexed aspect of your body and even can make that oh so unimportant chromosomal map change its course. Because of this, many many countries correctly, or at least sorta correctly (more on this in a minute), realize that after awhile on HRT most people’s bodies begin functioning on a microscopic level like the gender they are, and not their AGAB, and that treating them as if they still are the sex they used to be is medically dangerous and inaccurate. Thus these countries let you change your sex on your health information (and other info). However it is worth noting that while this is absolutely medically necessary, it can feel weird saying that it is which hormones your body is currently processing that determines your sex, since they’re are so many aspects to hormones that feel very detached from some definition of sex. Like does my sense of smell being better or being more sensitive to physical touch really have anything to do with sex? Isn’t that just hormones? Which is why I said it’s only semi correct for these countries to say that hormones make sex, since they do so much more than sex too, making it really seem like nothing is actually biological sex. It’s like looking under a ghost’s sheet and finding nothing at all. But regardless, it is very clear that if anything is sex it is definitely not chromosomes and if it is anything at all, which I don’t really think it is, it is hormones.

[hellsitegenetics]

Long before time had a name, Ninjago was created by the First Spinjitzu Master, using the Four Weapons of Spinjitzu. The Scythe of Quakes, the Nunchucks of Lightning, the Shurikens of Ice and the Sword of Fire. Weapons so powerful, no one can handle all of their power at once! When he passed away, his two sons swore to protect them, but the oldest was consumed by darkness and wanted to possess them. A battle between brothers broke out, and the oldest was struck down and banished to the Underworld. Peace returned, and the younger brother hid the weapons, but knowing his older brother's relentless ambition for power, he placed a guardian to protect them. And for fear of his own demise, a map for an honest man to hide. That honest man was your father. The older brother is Lord Garmadon, and I... need to find those weapons before he does.

String identified: g t a a a, ag a cat t t t at, g t a t. T ct a, t cc gtg, t c a t . a , ca a a t at c! a aa, t t tct t, t t t a c a a at t t. A att t t t, a t t a tc a a t t . ac t, a t g t t a, t g t' t at , ac a gaa t tct t. A a , a a a t a t . Tat t a a at. T t Gaa, a … t t a .

Closest match: Neoneuromus ignobilis isolate Gutianshan chromosome 5 Common name: Dobsonfly

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Second Chance Sorcerer

Chapter 1 - Phantom Tokyo

Summary: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape?

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader

A/N: I can't believe I actually got around to writing this! *sobs*. I hope everyone does take the time to read it, and enjoys what I've created here. This will be a multi-chapter fic, quite different from the one-shots I've posted before. It was originally made with an OC, which can be read on my AO3 account, but all changes have been made to y/n here.

Thank you @actuallysaiyan for making the lovely title banner and for listening to me rant and giving me all the encouragement to finish this chapter. Everyone needs a cheerleader like you. 💜

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Nanami masterlist

“You’ve got it from here…Itadori kun.”

Those were the last words Nanami remembers saying before Mahito’s Idle Transfiguration fragmented his soul into smithereens. All he felt was pain, gut-wrenching pain as his soul collapsed and rearranged itself, piece after piece trying various combinations of alignment, trying to come back into some semblance of a whole, like chromosomes after being hit with a lethal dose of radiation.

His eyes squeeze shut, senses overloading as he prepares to meet whatever awaits him on the other side. Would it be a lovely afterlife like he’d hoped? Filled with long days on the beach, reading the backlog of books he’d been holding off on? Laying in the sun, no work, no obligations, just doing whatever he wanted to his heart’s content? He felt warmth against his chest, a bright light emanating from it, and for a split second, it felt like someone was calling out to him, a very familiar voice…

And all of a sudden it stops. With a thump, he crumples on something solid, his side colliding with the surface. Was this it? Was he in the afterlife? Nanami hesitantly opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings.

At first, it appears like he’s landed on a sidewalk that wound deeply into a very gloomy and derelict-looking city. He could make out buildings, traffic lights, and little shops tucked away in between these larger structures, all of them looking abandoned or in various states of disuse. Not exactly what he’d hoped for. Was this actually the Great Beyond? 

Nanami pushes himself to his feet, relieved when he realizes he’s not in pain anymore. Had Mahito sent him to a separate contained domain? He squints, trying to find his bearings. There was no sunlight wherever he was, but the street lamps were lit along the length of the sidewalk, casting shadows along the way. He cautiously looks around. The place looks strangely familiar…

He grasps his weapon, the blade having still been in his hand when Mahito touched him, and advances down the road. As he walks, he realizes with a jolt that wherever he is appears to be a phantom of his neighborhood. He recognized this road now, as he had frequented it so often. Up ahead was the grocery store he would go to every Saturday. And right opposite it, a little cafe he would sometimes wander into for their lovely croissants and artisan coffee. The more he walked, the more he started piecing together a map of this area, astonished at what he was seeing. This certainly couldn’t be a domain expansion. There was far too much detail resembling the real world and, although the place gave a foreboding aura, seemed to be unoccupied except for himself. 

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, lowers his weapon, and tries to think. Logic was telling him Mahito had sent him somewhere, perhaps a sealed space, rather than kill him outright. But if that was the case, why was he healed? His entire left side which had been covered with fatal burns was gone, the skin healed over like new, his eye regenerated, hair grown back. His clothes and shoes had somehow been restored to their original condition, his glasses back to their position on his face. 

Things weren’t adding up. He continued to walk, then came upon a library he remembered passing by in the real world but had never really paid attention to before. Deciding this was as good a spot as any to glean information about his whereabouts, he enters, squinting through the darkness. Lines and lines of shelves stood neatly arranged in the building. Nanami walks between the rows, pausing in between sections for a brief moment before continuing his perusing. 

He rounds the corner, then quickly presses his back against a bookshelf as he senses an unusual energy signature fading away from him. So he wasn’t alone, and the thought wasn’t comforting. The energy didn’t match a human or a sorcerer, so he had to assume it was a special-grade curse. After his interactions with Jogo and Mahito, he didn’t know what to expect in terms of its abilities. He was tempted to escape but knew he had nowhere to go. If he was trapped in this domain what hope was there to escape this odd being he was sensing?

Raising the clothed blade with its polka dot pattern, he follows the energy steadily, not daring to breathe too loudly as he advances. It moves stealthily and silently, as though trying to elude him. This makes him immediately wary, sensing he could be getting lured into a trap. He follows at a distance, then stops as he comes to a reading section, the area cleared out and decorated with little chairs, poufs, and tables. Struggling to see in the dim light, he moves into the open, instincts screaming that he’s making a mistake. He pauses, trying to sense the energy again.

“It’s rude to chase one with a weapon you know.” A voice says from directly behind him. Nanami startles and spins around to face his pursuant, arms immediately coming before him to block an impending attack. Upon seeing the sight before him, his gaze fills with both fear and wonder, the being in front of him a vision of amazement. 

All he sees at first are a pair of piercing silver eyes that seem to probe the very depths of his soul. There’s a quiet insightfulness to them like he was looking into the eyes of an old friend, yet an unsettling intensity that made him feel apprehensive. The being appeared to lack a shape, but as Nanami took another step back, the light from the street lamps showed it to be made of wisps of black shadowy mist, neither fluid nor gas, swirling endlessly around it. 

Something within him tells him he shouldn’t fear this creature, yet all instincts were telling him to charge the attack before it got to him first. They stood, staring at each other through the dimness, before Nanami gathered his courage and asked, “What are you? A curse?”

The being huffs, as if it was an impertinent question. “What am I…Who am I…The question has been asked for centuries. Yet, even I do not have an appropriate answer…But I am most definitely not a curse.”

It glides silently over the floor, and Nanami instinctively raises his weapon. The being appears to look amused, based on the way those intense silver eyes glowed. “Put away your blade, Nanami Kento. The things I could have done to you once you entered my realm can’t be defended against by you, or even a special-grade sorcerer for that matter. I doubt even Ryomen Sukuna would stand a chance against me.” The smoky form billows, ebbing and flowing as it circles him. 

Not entirely reassured, Nanami puts his weapon back in the holder of his suspenders. There’s an odd feeling of reverence despite the eerie nature of the being. 

“I am what they call The Mediator, The One Before Death, or The Spectator.” It answers his question. 

“And where am I?” Nanami asks the shadow. 

“You are in between worlds, Nanami Kento.”

“In between worlds?” The blonde man repeated skeptically. Did such a thing exist? He had never given death much thought (beyond the dying part), and always assumed it was like being asleep one moment and waking up in paradise the next. To be in between worlds…had Mahito somehow just locked him away in another dimension that was a bleak version of his neighborhood? 

“So…am I…alive? But in another dimension?”

The Mediator looked at him thoughtfully, as though wondering how best to explain to him. “You are alive for now. But you definitely died, otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up here in my realm.”

“I died, and came back to life?” The sorcerer frowned at the obscureness with which this said. “That makes no sense. People don’t just arbitrarily resurrect from the dead. I was severely weakened. My soul was unprotected. Mahito’s attack should have killed me.”

“It did. However, something at that moment reversed the attack and restored the various fragments your soul had shattered into.”

Disbelievingly, Nanami started running his hands over his torso as though trying to find evidence that he had died. It was just…fantastical…impossible…He had survived Mahito’s attack? What divine intervention could have possibly saved him from something so deadly? As his fingers near his wrist, they brush over a small chain, hidden under the cuff of his shirt. He quickly undoes the button and looks incredulously at the small charm, an Aum symbol, dangling from the chain. 

“Y/n…” he murmurs her name softly. His apprentice. He now remembers her fastening one of these to not just him but to Ino and Itadori as well before they were deployed to Shibuya. 

“That’s probably what saved you,” the being said evidently, interrupting Nanami’s thoughts. “Whatever that is, it was imbued with a heavy concentration of neutralized curse energy. So when you died from the attack, that charm activated and repaired your soul.”

Nanami absently fingered the charm, trying to think. Y/n’s ability to neutralize cursed energy had improved immensely under his tutelage, he knew that, but he hadn’t imagined it to this extent. Her other ability included being able to manipulate any cursed energy she neutralized into forms of heat, summoning flames on her palms that towered at least  20 feet tall. How she had imbued the energy into the charm was anyone’s guess. 

“And I’m in between worlds.” He repeats again, trying to make sure he’s not misunderstanding the conversation.

“Indeed. Think of this as your own personal purgatory.” Those silver eyes bore into him like moons against a black sky, waiting to see his reaction.

Purgatory. Nanami pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, unable to fathom how insane this sounded. “I thought purgatory was for people who needed to be redeemed.”

“It is usually. But in your case, it looks like the veil partitioning the worlds got confused, seeing as how you left one dead, and then suddenly became alive in another. Death probably couldn’t figure out what to do with you so it sent you here instead.”

“So I’m stuck here?”

Despite the miraculousness of it all, Nanami couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation. He had been prepared for death for several years now. So much to the point that he had a will drafted, signed, and sealed, declaring all his possessions to be donated to charity since he had no other family or next of kin. A copy of the keys to his house had been entrusted to the lawyer who had helped draft the will. He had all his affairs set in order with the expectation that his death would be sudden and he was unwilling to burden anyone to deal with the repercussions. 

He had known he would die in the line of duty. He had accepted his fate the moment Mahito had laid a hand on him in the underground, welcoming death as a tranquil friend. His whole life had been struggle after struggle, a gamble, clawing his way to stay alive. All he could say was that he had been lucky so far. There had to be a moment when that luck ran out. He had been dreaming of knowing peace and death seemed to be the only option for that. 

“Does it bother you, that you are alive?” The purgatory being asks him curiously, noting his less-than-happy expression. “Most would rejoice at this second chance for life.”

The question hits Nanami with a gravity he hadn’t been expecting. “Most people haven’t lived my life. I’ve done enough. I’m tired. I’ve earned the right to a peaceful death.”

“And yet, it looks like someone desperately wanted you to live.” Those hypnotic eyes wander over to the charm dangling on his wrist. “Is that not reason enough? To not want to die?”

Disturbed by the notion, Nanami grips the charm. Y/n’s energy had kept him alive, unwittingly preventing him from moving on into the afterlife. Whether that had been her intent was debatable. Her desperately wanting him to live? It just didn’t seem likely to him. Sure, perhaps she didn’t want him to die in the way that people didn’t want others to die in general. But beyond that? He couldn’t fathom her being so consumed by the thought of his death that she would create a charm that essentially kept him alive after having his soul damaged to what should have been a point beyond repair. 

Y/n had a late start in her career as a sorceress, and certain concepts about it seemed to stymie her, more typically seen in a younger student than someone her age. He had repeatedly told her to not worry about him when he took her on missions, to value her life more than his. He drilled it into her head when he taught her self-defense, that if there was an opportunity to escape she should take it, the hand-to-hand combat sometimes leaving bruises on her skin because she’d been unwilling to take a shot at him. It always pained him when that happened, marking her, leaving those unsavory blemishes on her but how else was she going to learn that fairness wasn’t something that existed in Jujutsu? Her willingness to get a little scuffed up if it meant protecting him from a curse irked him. She was rather like a kitten unwilling to be shooed away from a reluctant petter. His lips curled wryly as he imagined her expression if she ever heard that comparison out loud. 

‘Don’t be so cruel Nanami san!’ She’d probably say, those large (color) eyes looking at him reproachfully. And for a moment, his mind’s eye couldn’t picture anything else except that; those large (color) eyes, and the shock in them when he told her that he didn’t think he’d live very long. She hadn’t said anything to convince him his mindset was wrong, but she did look like he had betrayed her by expressing his very honest and logical opinion. As though he had broken an oath to her by not saying he wanted to live long and prosper. 

Nanami gives himself a mental shake. This wasn't the time to be thinking about Y/ni's opinion on his death. The bigger task at hand now was figuring out what to do about his imprisonment in purgatory. 

All the while, the shadow hadn’t wavered and had merely continued to look at him work through his inner monologue. Realizing that Nanami had reached a limit, it said, “No, you are not stuck here. At least, not for very long.”

The sorcerer’s head snaps up at those words, eyes narrowing behind the green glass of his frames. “What do you mean, not very long?”

“Well, the neutralized energy imbued into that charm? It’s not infinitely going to remain contained in that. The seal broke when it saved your life, and it’s essentially trickling out little particles of it. It will run out at some point, although it’s difficult to say when that is.”

“And when it does run out?”

“You’ll die.” The being says simply. “And move on into the next realm. That’s the way purgatory is supposed to work. Cleanse you to be fit to live in the realm of death.” 

“And it’s unknown when that will happen?”

The shadow appears to ponder his question before offering a hesitant guess. “A few days, maybe 4 or 5 at maximum, based on the energy intensity that it's currently emitting.”

“And what am I to do for 4 to 5 days here?” Nanami gestures around the gloomy library, obviously not impressed with this arrangement. These extra days before his impending death somehow made a vein pop in his forehead. It was like a pre-death before the actual one.

“Well, you must have noticed by now that this is the neighborhood you used to live in. You are free to wander around here and experience your old life one last time. You can visit your apartment, take the subway and wander around the Jujutsu High campus, or watch a movie in the theater.” The shadow suggested, sounding like a pleasant tour guide for the afterlife. “Think of it as a vacation before your death.”

It struck Nanami as a little absurd but he strokes his chin, considering. “And that’s my only option? To experience my old life before dying?”

“It’s not the only option. You could go back and live.”

A pregnant pause hangs in the air at those words. Nanami’s eyes widen at the thought. He could go back to the land of the living? He hadn’t even considered that as an option. He only had death on his mind. Thoughts of living on a beach, days filled with no responsibility still flickered through his mind but at the same time…

“What is it about life that makes you so hesitant?” The purgatory being asks him inquisitively. 

Nanami opens his mouth but no words come out. Had he been thinking about how to escape his situation that all he had ever thought about was dying? It wasn’t unexpected of him. He had learned so long ago that life was mostly shit, with a few moments of relief folded in. At least it was for curse users. He remembers seeing all the people he knew die, how he had tried to escape from Jujutsu, only to be sucked back in because he knew he didn’t fit in anywhere else. When faced with the choice of remaining in a job of corporate greed, or one that endangered his life but was somewhat altruistic, the choice became apparent. He had returned to Jujutsu. Not entirely selflessly, but with the idea that it was the quicker way out of his misery. 

“Is there nothing you would like to return to?” The shadow presses. “Remember that you are a very rare case. Hardly anyone ends up in purgatory under your circumstances. I would hate to see a life go to waste because you don’t know what to do with it.”

A sudden memory comes into Nanami’s mind. A day of unexpected frivolity, when Y/n, Yuji, and Ino had convinced him to come along to an amusement park. It was an odd day but to his surprise, he hadn't hated it. Y/n had mostly stayed away from the roller-coasters, leaving it to Yuji and Ino, wandering with Nanami to the food stalls, closer in age to him than she was to the boys. It was a strange feeling of domesticity he had never experienced before, almost like they were a hodgepodge family of misfits. It was the closest thing he had experienced to a normal day in a long time. 

But days like that were rare. They were like sprinkles on top of ice cream. People could never have more sprinkles than ice cream. Life just didn't work that way. However, Nanami found himself contemplating his choices. Perhaps he had been so jaded that he thought life was wading through ice cream instead of appreciating the sprinkles? And here he was dreaming about sprinkles when he was stuck in purgatory. 

He sighs and shakes his head. “If I did go back, would it make a difference?” He asks doubtfully. 

The being’s eyes crinkle warmly, almost like it's smiling. “To one person, yes. And isn't that more than enough?”

The charm swings from his wrist like a pendulum. He considers the shadow’s words and feels his heart clench uncomfortably. The stakes almost felt too high, wagering his return to life on the chance that it would make a difference to Y/n. Well, maybe not just her. He frowns as he feels the energy in the trinket resonate for a brief moment when he thinks of her, as though it was trying to convince him to make the gamble. He had never quite paid attention to her energy signature before now, so concentrated within the tiny object; it felt like a warm cup of coffee on a lazy Saturday morning. He feels disconcerted that he could sense this now and it was making him want to change his mind about dying. He sighed deeply, feeling his resolve begin to solidify, even though it felt like he was making the wrong choice. 

“How do I get out of here?” 

The shadow has no features except its eyes, but if Nanami could assign it an expression, it would have to be triumph.  

“I’m so glad you asked.” It appraisingly looks at him, before continuing. “Perhaps you might want to let the lady know you’re alive.”

“Must I?” Nanami asks with a hint of exasperation. 

The shadow looks amused but continues in an even tone. “I’m afraid I must insist. It's better to give people a warning when you’re coming back from the dead. Prepares them for the prospect of seeing you again. Trust me, it’s better that way.”

“And how do I do that?” 

It merely continues to look at him with that amused expression and Nanami almost lets out a growl of frustration. “Listen. I died. Then I was told I wasn’t dead, but I’ll die soon. Then I changed my mind and decided I wanted to live. The least you can do is tell me how to get a message out of here.”

The purgatory being laughs; it’s an eerie noise, yet had all the comfort of a long-lost friend. “Very well 7:3 Sorcerer. It’s simple really. To send a message out of here, all you need to do is blend your cursed energy with the cursed energy of the person you’re thinking about going back to life for. Imbue this energy into a small object which will then find a way to its recipient.”

The elementary way this was said nearly cracks his temper. “Is that all?” He asks, unable to keep the bite of sarcasm out of his voice. 

The shadow chuckles at this, adding to his ire. “It really is. Just try focusing on something other than your disappointment of not dying today.” 

Nanami takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose trying to keep his composure. “A small object…” His hand grips the handle of his blade and pulls it out, eyeing it carefully. The whole blade wouldn’t make it. He just automatically knew it. But he wanted to make sure Y/n would recognize the message was from him. He fidgets with the blade, thinking, and then by accident, the edge of it comes in contact with the Aum charm. 

The blend of energy that shoots through him was a shock; a mix of the warm coffee on Saturday mornings, coupled with the calculated preciseness of a seasoned Q-grader who assessed those coffee beans. The polka dots spattered all over the cloth wrapping the weapon glowed at the edges for a brief second before the blade lost contact with the charm. 

Nanami observed the whole process with fascination. Dormant instinct took over him, and he moved his hand so that the charm now swung over the blade. Focusing on that combined energy signature, he purposefully touches the charm to the blade. Y/n’s neutralized curse energy flows into the blade, and he feels his own beginning to fuse with it. He concentrates on his ratio technique, and with a flash, all the polka dots lift off the blade, glowing with a pale sea foam green aura. 

“Find her,” he whispers to the dots, and in a hazy glow, they vanish. 

Nanami watches, as though in a daze, unable to believe what had just happened. He turns to look at the purgatory being.

“Message sent. Now, how do I get out of here?”

The shadow being had been looking at the spot where the polka dots had vanished. It swirls around and looks at him in the eyes. 

“By facing your deepest regrets.”

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[kedreeva]

Sorry about the color mix up. I appreciate the reply and additional info! I guess bc I know nothing about peafowl (and the fact i dont breed any type of animal), I'm having a hard time understanding how being sterile would be unethical. I do somewhat get the shortened life span. I really would like to understand this, I just sometimes need stuff explained like I'm 5.

Up front, there's no "somewhat get" to a shortened lifespan being caused by a mutation in captive populations. If an animal is capable of living 20+ years (and some live 30+ or even 40+!) and some non-essential mutation is causing them to live 7-9 years, it's flat out absolutely unethical to breed that mutation, full stop, regardless of anything else going on. That's indicative of a MAJOR problem in their genetics. There's NO ethical reason to breed that because humans like how it looks. So, even without the sterility, these birds would 100% be unethical to produce.

The short answer on sterility is this: we don't know WHY they are sterile, but they shouldn't be, and that means something has gone wrong. When something goes wrong with an animal, and it's something genetic that can be passed on, the ONLY responsible and ethical thing for a breeder to do is to stop using that animal for breeding and closely monitor any already-produced offspring for signs of the problem, and likely not breed them, either.

The longer more complicated answer is this: sometimes it's possible to separate the problem from the aesthetic when it comes to morphs, like it was for cameo + blindness, but sometimes it's NOT, like it wasn't for spider + head wobble for ball pythons. In those instances, it's... difficult. Because you're LIKELY going to produce animals that suffer the same problem as their parent(s), in the attempt to separate the problem from the aesthetic, and sometimes that's ALL you're going to produce. As a breeder, it's your absolute responsibility to NOT release the offspring into the general population, where the problem may be replicated without control, and to keep or cull the affected individuals if the problem cannot be separated from the aesthetic, or AT BEST find them guaranteed pet-only homes that will NEVER breed them.

Sometimes the problem IS purely aesthetic or harmless, like it was for pied in peafowl, and sometimes it's not, like it was for vitiligo in peafowl. The problem comes when you ASSUME a mutation is the first, and treat it like the first when it's really the second. This has caused FAR reaching consequences in the peafowl community, and I'm sure in others, where now the autoimmune disease that first bronze had has been passed into genpop by folks who thought they were breeding a harmless new variation of pied. Hybrid animals are often sterile (not in peafowl though, hybrid cristatus-muticus birds are fertile) because of a mismatch in chromosome pairing numbers, and often that's harmless. So, in some cases sterility is not an issue because it's the expected result or is otherwise harmless... but in the case of peafowl, it's NOT an expected result and we don't know if it's caused by something harmless or not.

Some species, like mice and horses and cattle and dogs, genetic testing and DNA mapping done with millions of dollars has proven that while some stuff isn't purely aesthetic, it also doesn't cause harm to the animal in a way that affects quality of life or that can be adapted for in captive care. For example, in chickens, the frizzle gene causes curled feathers in single copy and an absence of feathers in double copy. This gene is considered ethical to produce IF the breeding is done responsibly by putting a single copy bird over a zero copy bird, which produces smooth coats and frizzle coats, but it is unethical to produce double frizzles (called "frazzles") because frazzles cannot thermoregulate, can easily sunburn, and easily suffer skin injury during normal chicken activity.

For peafowl, we have NO genetic testing. We do not have the genome mapped. As far as I know there's a research group working on it (mostly for green peafowl though, in conservation efforts), but that's not remotely finished or available to the public to test anything. We don't know where any of the morph mutations sit, or what is causing them or if they do anything beyond just change the color. Sometimes color mutations are the result of malfunctions in enzymes. For charcoal specifically, we don't know what the mutation does, besides what we can observe on the outside- the birds have half or less the lifespan of normal birds, poor feather quality, and the hens are sterile. Is the sterility harmless like it is in some hybrid animals, or is it actually a major organ failing? Is it the only major organ that fails due to this mutation, or is it just the first sign of their shortened lives? Is it some deficiency in something the birds need to be healthy? Does it hurt the bird? We don't know, but we do know the mutation and the problems (multiple, please do NOT forget that this is one OF MORE THAN ONE problems) can't be separated, and so until we do know why and whether it's harmless or not, the ONLY ethical response to seeing a problem in a major organ's function linked inextricably to a mutation in color is to not propagate that mutation. If someone wanted to fork over the millions it takes to sequence and map genomes and then determine exactly what is going on with peafowl, that would be nice and good, but I don't see that happening. When I win the lottery big, I'll be doing it, but til then we can only follow normal breeding guidelines

Also, to put this into perspective... peafowl mature sexually around 3 years old. They are chicks until the turn of the new year following their hatch. They are yearlings that year, and immature 2yo next year. They aren't actually considered fully grown until 6 years old, and should live another 14+ years. Charcoal birds die a 1-3 years after full maturity. Is it a coincidence that they fail to thrive shortly after full sexual maturity, or is it linked? Again, we don't know. We don't know if the sterility is fine or if it's just a symptom of something worse.

Even without the sterility, though, charcoal has enough issues it would be unethical. If it was JUST sterility, with no other deleterious effects, then maybe it would be different. But it's not.

[mbari-blog]

📣 New research alert! 📣 

A study published by MBARI researchers and their collaborators today in Nature provides new insights about one of the earliest points in animal evolution that happened more than 700 million years ago.⁠ ⁠ 

For years, scientists have investigated whether sponges or comb jellies (also known as ctenophores) were most distantly related to all other animals. But identifying this outlier—known as the sibling group—has long eluded scientists.⁠

A team of researchers from MBARI, the University of California, Berkeley, the University of California, Santa Cruz, and the University of Vienna mapped sets of genes that are always found together on a single chromosome, in everything from humans and hamsters to crabs and corals, to provide clear evidence that comb jellies are the sibling group to all other animals. Understanding the relationships among animals will help shape our thinking about how key features of animal anatomy, such as the nervous system or digestive tract, have evolved over time. Learn more about this remarkable research on our website.

[anamelessfool]

Outlaw F!Reader x "The Ghoul" Cooper Howard (18+ MDNI) Full Fic here on AO3

Chapter 11: Stumptown (AO3 Link Here)

You're not running away from your sins, you're running towards the truth.

Bullhead officially crossed off the map, you journey on. In your pack your PiP Boy begins to complain about local RAD levels. The screen pulses with unfriendly warnings and the gently concerned face of the Vault-Tech mascot. You wince at Coop, who doesn't seem to notice. And why would he; the sound of permanent chromosomal damage probably reminds him of home.

Tags: Read Em All on AO3, Dead Dove, Blood and Gore, Gunplay, Broken Bones, Bandits & Outlaws, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Dystopia, Blood and Injury, Mystery and Intrigue, Western, Action-Adventure, Canon Typical Blood N Guts, Zombies basically, Light D/s, body worship, Sad Backstory Time, Who is this OTHER WOMAN?!

Thanks for your likes, comments, kudos, and reblogs we loves a good reblog omnomnom (Please reblog!<3)

And let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist!

[positivelybeastly]

"Dr. Mccoy, I have two questions on the nature of the mutant genetics. First, why is there so much variation between mutant powers and abilities? Second, how can the activation of this genetic process turn someone visibly human one moment, then something completely different the next?"

"In five words or less? The Celestials cook very slowly."

Hank gave the newest addition to the X-Men a smile, dismissing the holographic projection of his latest project with a wave of a paw and bringing up a painstakingly mapped model of the mutant genome as casually as normal people showed off their Candy Crush scores.

"The potential for radical mutation was added to the human genome some one million years ago, through careful seeding and experimentation with a tribe of Homo erectus by the Celestials. One of these experiments resulted in the nascent form of what we now know as the X-gene, which survived through Homo neanderthalis, Homo sapiens, and then came to fruition in Homo . . ."

He cleared his throat, looking somewhat upset.

"Well, the most widely known term is Homo superior, a term I soundly reject and refuse. I prefer Homo mutantis. But, at any rate, the X-gene has been cooking very slowly for thousands upon thousands of years, interacting with a billion other chromosomes, alleles - every bit of junk in the human genetic code, every leftover strand from every evolutionary step, interacts with it on some level."

"When it manifests, most of the time in puberty but sometimes at birth, that individual, unique combination of genetic material working in concert with the spark that is the X-gene results in that wide variation of mutant powers and abilities that you remarked upon. It's almost never the same for any two individuals, even in the same family."

He waved his paw, the genome map suddenly changing, large blue spots now appearing all over it.

"The blue spots you see are what is known, simplistically, as Mutant Growth Hormone. It's a very potent cocktail that includes simple hormones like adrenaline, neurotransmitters such as acetylcholine, and a great many other ingredients. It forms naturally in the mutant body when the mutation process is about to begin, and catalyses the genetic process when the X-gene 'fires'.

So.

You have a young mutant walking around, a pressure cooker of biological processes. Something happens. Stress, pain, frustration, an emotional peak, all very common at puberty. And - snap!"

He snapped his fingers, the genome erupting in jagged spikes and strange shapes, mutating before their eyes.

"Humans grow fur, they begin to shoot fireworks out of their fingertips, they walk through walls. The X-gene is the spark - but MGH is rocket fuel. If you thought normal human hormones were a trip, well, they're nothing compared to what mutant teenagers have firing off in their bodies."

He gestured at Adrian.

"Does that go some of the way towards answering your question?"

[kragehund-est]

at the time of conception, there are more male fetuses conceived than female. due to the risk taking behaviors of boys, the likelihood of genetic issues with the XY chromosomes, and the stress to the mother's body, the sex ratio in most countries skewed at least slightly more female.

see, a lot of these complications with male fetuses happen in the first few trimesters. the mother might not even know she was pregnant. as good as any medical care is, bringing baby boys to term is still hard on the mother. in childhood through adulthood, girls and women are sheltered from the world much more than boys and men. even developed countries will still have a female skew.

so undeveloped or developing countries must have a much larger skew favoring women, right? after all, the issues above can only be worse without the high standards of medicine of the developed world, so that would make sense. look that these maps though.

undeveloped countries are significantly more likely to practice sex selective abortion, infanticide, and abuse. the data paints a picture of a grave situation for women and girls. in these countries, it starts even before a girl is born that she is considered less valuable than boys. recognize sex based oppression.

[ohchr-news]

(via More Women Than Expected Are Genetically Men - Novo Nordisk Fonden)

Who Are The Hidden Men?

Danish researchers map for the first time how many women are genetically men. These people therefore have male chromosomes but are women socially and in external appearance. The proportion was higher than expected. “Morris Syndrome” & “Swyer Syndrome” are now collectively called 46XY DSD: androgen insensitivity syndrome. These people have an extremely high level of testosterone and other male sex hormones, but the testosterone does not affect the fetal cells that usually develop into male sexual organs because of a mutation in the androgen receptor gene. They may or may not have a full set of internal female sexual organs, and they form testicles that remain concealed in the abdominal cavity. From Claus Højbjerg Gravholt, who led the study and is Clinical Professor in the Department of Clinical Medicine of Aarhus University

[gnomeskillet]

Day 2 of Testosterone! Once I made my consultation appointment and all that, I started thinking about doing one of those "picture a day" things to record my transition. Debated making a sideblog dedicated to it, but I've decided I'm Too Lazy and what the hell, this is my blog anyway. Might as well just stick it here! So if you're not interested in seeing my face every day, just block "a boy and his goo". I won't know if you do :P

Some of you who are seeing my face for the first time might be going "what do you mean you're only on Day 2 of your transition, you have a goatee!"

Well, my friends, what can I say? It's a weird genetic fluke that just happened to work in my favor. It started growing in in my 20s, and my mom had me tested for everything short of a chromosome map. As far as the doctors can tell, I'm just Like That.

[nuadox]

Researchers assemble genome and 3D chromosomal structure of 52,000-year-old woolly mammoth

- By Nuadox Crew -

An international research team successfully assembled the genome and 3D chromosomal structures of a 52,000-year-old woolly mammoth, a first for ancient DNA.

The fossilized chromosomes, much longer than typical ancient DNA fragments, offer insights into the mammoth's genome organization and gene activity in its skin tissue. The exceptional preservation was due to freeze-drying soon after death.

Published in Cell on July 11, the study used the Hi-C method to map DNA interactions, revealing th

at mammoths had 28 chromosomes, similar to modern elephants. The study also identified gene activity patterns linked to traits like woolliness and cold tolerance.

This method, though reliant on well-preserved samples, could be applied to other ancient and recent specimens, with implications for mammoth de-extinction efforts.

Header image credit: Image Creator from Microsoft Designer/DALL.E (AI-generated)

Read more at Cell Press/ScienceDaily

Scientific paper: Three-dimensional genome architecture persists in a 52,000-year-old woolly mammoth skin sample, Cell (2024). DOI: 10.1016/j.cell.2024.06.002. www.cell.com/cell/fulltext/S0092-8674(24)00642-1

Read Also

Discovery of world’s oldest DNA sets new record by one million years

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Description of the genes under the break

Beware, this one is even longer!

Genetics guide

Brown (tyrosinase-related protein-1, TYRP1): this gene determines the quantity of the functional eumelanin.

dominant allele: B - full pigment production, black cat (wild type)

"middle" allele: b - less pigment, chocolate cat (variant)

recessive allele: bl - even less pigment, cinnamon cat (variant)

Order of dominance: B > b > bl

If every other allele is wild type except this, we'll have a chocolate or cinnamon mackerel tabby cat. (On the picture the cinnamon cat is spotted rather than striped, because i couldn't find a decent mackerel. So sad.) Chocolate and cinnamon cats are possible in every pattern.

Dilute (melanophilin, MLPH): this gene determines the distribution of the pigments.

dominant allele: D - even pigment distribution, dark cat (wild type)

recessive allele: d - clumped, uneven pigment distribution, diluted cat (variant)

black -> blue

chocolate -> lilac

cinnamon -> fawn

In these pictures the difference isn't that striking between the black and the blue mackerel tabby, but if you look up at the header, in solid cats it's much more pronounced.

For further comparison of undiluted and diluted color pairs on one picture (to eliminate differences in lightening):

black vs blue and red vs cream

Every possible color and pattern can be diluted (with the only exception of white).

Orange (?): this yet unidentified gene determines the type of the most prominent pigment: eumelanin on pheomelanin.

allele: O - mainly pheomelanin, red-based cat (variant)

allele: o - mainly eumelanin, black-based cat (wild type)

This gene is special in two related ways: first, it's located on the X chromosome, which means tomcats only have one allele; second, the alleles are codominant - if a cat carries both of them, it'll show both phenotypes: this is how we get tortoiseshell cats. This explains why almost all tortoiseshell cats are females - every tortie needs two different X chromosomes.

Combined with other variant alleles every possible color and pattern occure as tortoiseshell, but the O allele is epistatic over a lot of genes: for example agouti (the phenotype of every orange cat is tabby, even the genetically solid ones) and brown (since eumelanin is mostly absent thus can't change - the genotypes OO B_, OO b_ and OO blbl are all means red cat).

The dilute version of red is called cream.

The dilution level is always the same in the colors of a tortoiseshell: the undiluted black, chocolate and cinnamon is paired with red, the diluted blue, lilac and fawn are paired with cream.

White (receptor tyrosine kinase, KIT): this gene determines the size of the area the pigment producing cells (the melanocytes) reach.

dominant allele: W - basically no melanocytes, white cat (variant)

allele(s): ws - limited area is covered, white-spotted cat (variant)

allele: w - all of the body is covered by the melanocytes, full-colored cat (wild type)

recessive allele: wg - only the paws remain white, gloved cat (variant)

Order of dominance: W > ws = w > wg

Since the gloving allele is kind of specific to the breed, I used a birman cat to illustrate it.

Lots of alleles here! Actually I'm not sure what's the most accepted opinion about them, but since these variant are all mapped to KIT, I considered them alleles.

If every other gene shows the wild type except for this, we'll have a white, or a white-spotted black mackerel tabby cat, but thanks to the ws allele(s) every color and pattern can be combined with white patches. However, the W allele is epistatic over every other gene: if a cat has one or two copies of W, it will be white regardless everything else.

ws is interesting: it has an additive effect, a cat with the wsws genotype will have more white than a cat with only one copy of it. wg is fully recessive: the gloved phenotype only present if the cat's genotype is wgwg.

[ask-spidermom]

No improvement after 2 weeks. Loss of appetite. Frequent meltdowns.

There was a crayon drawing on the bottom of the table; a stick person with a big smile, then several smaller stick people with broad Xs for eyes. Harry’s stomach twisted as he stared up at them.

Woodie murmured, almost more to themself than anyone else, “... What happened here?”

“I-I can't remember. I don't remember.”

Only in quick flickers, in shoddy projector slides.

No adverse effects yet. Complaints about the size of the pills. Split dosage into smaller capsules?

Harry scooted out from under the table and let Woodie help him to his feet.

A child’s shriek pierced the space, reverberating through the hall until, for a split second, it sounded as though coming from every direction. After a tense moment, Harry cautiously straightened his shoulders and squeezed Woodie’s hand. They led him out of what was labeled on an old staff directory map as the ‘recreation chamber’— a large room with foam padded floors, a swing and a round table with crayons and paper.

“Let's go this way.” Harry said, tapping an orange arrow on the wall. There were several similar indicators in various colours, all leading off in different directions.

An informational sign in the foyer outside the recreation chamber had denoted them as relating to the following departments:

purple: PLAGUE

green: RETROSPECTIVES

red: BILE REQUISITION

blue: DETRITUS & NUTRITION

orange: HOME

Failure begets failure. Poison in the blood. Poison in the brain. Irritability, nightmares, increasingly uncooperative. Dosage adjustment needed.

The orange arrow led them down another hallway, then around a corner. On the wall opposite, a plaque stood before a large, darkened display window.

“Press to illuminate each specimen…” Woodlock read aloud.

“That- uh, I-I don't—”

With a click, one specimen jar on the far left of the window lit up. It had something small within, a pale, pink spec with a dark spot, surrounded by nondescript tissue matter. Click. The lights buzzed and flickered. Another jar, then another, both containing humanoid fetuses at varying stages of development.

Click.

The last place looked empty, at first. Harry leaned in, then let out a small cry. The light shimmered across the fine detritus of shattered glass and dry mucus.

“It's just a dream, dear.”

Harry pulled away from the window, “It's never just a dream.”

“I mean, it’s the same old things arranged in unfamiliar patterns, is all.”

They continued down the hall. The orange arrow, smudges of something wet and viscous dragging itself along. Harry pushed away memories of his mother sobbing, despondent with a kind of grief too heavy for his little arms to hold when he scrambled onto the couch to comfort her.

“I found out about it by accident. Uh, just poking around in old project folders. Stuff about producing genetically identical embryos with various minor tweaks in the nucleic code,” Harry laughed dryly, “And then I was like, hold on, I know that genome. That's me!”

“You recognize your genome sequence?”

“It’s usually apparent by the second page.”

Specimen No.1

21 days. Perished during later stages of gastrulation.

Specimen No.4

4 weeks. Death due to complications regarding chromosomal abnormalities.

Specimen No.13

32 weeks. Complications with cardiac development.

Specimen No. 15

1 day.

The blue arrow was visible on a wall down the side corridor. The wall had a dark smeared handprint along the bottom that trailed beyond view.

“I try not to think about it. I don't like bringing up stuff mom has done, ‘cause she gets upset.” Harry picked at a loose thread at the hem of his sleeve.

“It was her hand that carved in you a wound that never healed.”

“... I try not to think about it.”

At the end, there was a large room with pretty wood flooring and floral wallpaper. Inside, an overturned dinner table and two chairs.

It felt, somehow, as if there were something missing in the space. Harry closed his eyes, trying to remember what it could've been. A girl, maybe. She had long, frizzy strawberry blonde hair tied into a french braid. She wore a stained yellow-orange jumpsuit.

The absence, her absence. The empty space folded into the figure of the girl, crouched on her hands and knees by the table. She was crunching something between her teeth, pulling a string of sinew from her lips. She jerked upright, eyes wide.

Harry met her gaze. He knew her face, even smeared with blood. It looked a lot like his.

She took a breath and screamed.

[chubbycaucasianchristiancloseted]

According to this article Imane Khelif is intersex.

According to this article Imane Khelif is intersex. We have to be careful because a lot of anti-woman rights advocates, use intersex as a leaping off point for an argument about why men should be able to play and dominate in women sports. The chances of being intersex are 0.018% (pubmed see comments). There are roughly 11,000 athletes participating in the Paris Olympics, you would be lucky to find two. Intersex, “the term should be restricted to those conditions in which chromosomal sex is inconsistent with phenotypic sex, or in which the phenotype is not classifiable as either male or female” as defined by pubmed. People suffering from Gender Dysphoria and identify as Transgender make up 1-2% of the U.S. population, meaning you SHOULD find over 100 within the athletes.

These two conditions are drastically different. Khelif did not wake up one day and choose their gender. In these situations the doctors usually attempt to correct the birth deformity using surgery and meds. Assuming Khelif is aware of this condition they might be taking advantage of their XY chromosome. The Y chromosome does trigger male development. If you don’t think Khelif has a significant advantage in the sport, is Angela Carini just a wimp? Is this an equal and fair match?

According to this article the IOC bases the athlete’s gender and age on their passport nothing more. I needed more information than that to get my MD Driver’s license!

Direct Quotes

Despite outcries from anti-trans celebrities and politicians, the International Olympic Committee confirmed Imane Khelif is eligible to compete in women's boxing at the Paris Games.

Khelif went viral on social media after winning her opening bout Thursday against Italy's Angela Carini, who stopped fighting after 46 seconds. Khelif, along with Taiwanese boxer Lin Yu-ting, were both disqualified from their championships in 2023 after the International Boxing Association said they failed gender eligibility testing, a move that the IOC has called a “sudden and arbitrary decision."

Khelif reportedly has differences of sexual development, known as DSDs, the organizations said in a Fact Sheet released Friday. Having DSD is not the same as being transgender.

In the face of backlash over Khelif's 2024 win, the IBA stood by its decision to disqualify the boxers over two "trustworthy" and "independent" tests, though they did not disclose what the tests were. The Washington Post reported IBA president claimed they were disqualified over finding XY chromosomes.

The IOC said the gender and age for the athletes is based on their passports.

In the last five years, 25 states have passed laws banning transgender students from participating in sports that match their gender identity, according to data compiled by MAP, despite research from the Human Rights Campaign showing transgender youth are a small part of the population and not all of them are interested in playing sports.