#clear shell electronics

[salamanding]

i designed a new character!! one day i want to start streaming as a hobby and i’d want her to be my vtuber sona. she changes out the cartridges based on whether is a gaming, art, or just chatting stream!

[novemberfire]

[todropscience]

THE OLDEST PREDATOR-PREY ARMS RACE UNCOVERED IN CAMBRIAN FOSSILS

A recent fossil study has revealed the oldest known evidence of an evolutionary arms race between predators and prey, dating back 517 million years to the Cambrian oceans. Researchers examined fossilized shells of Lapworthella fasciculata, a small shelled animal, and found that over 200 of them had holes likely caused by an unknown drilling predator. This predator, possibly a mollusc or soft-bodied worm, was able to penetrate the prey’s defences, triggering an adaptive response.

Interestingly, over time the shells of L. fasciculata became thicker, suggesting that the animal developed mechanisms to reinforce its shell and better withstand attacks. As shell thickness increased, so did the number of perforations, indicating that the predator also improved its ability to drill through the prey’s defences. This back-and-forth adaptation is a clear example of an evolutionary arms race, where each species evolves in response to the other in a constant battle for survival.

This discovery is crucial for understanding how predator-prey interactions drove early animal evolution, and supports the idea that predation played a key role in the diversification of biomineralizing organisms during the Cambrian explosion. Published in Current Biology, the study offers a fascinating glimpse into marine life over 500 million years ago and highlights how quickly evolutionary changes can emerge under environmental pressures.

main image: Examples of Lapworthella fasciculata shells (under scanning electron microscope) from Flinders Ranges, South Australia, showing holes made by a drilling predator. Scale bars represent 200 micrometres (0.2 mm).

Reference: Bicknell et al., 2025. Adaptive responses in Cambrian predator and prey highlight the arms race during the rise of animals. Current Biology.

[dandylovesturtles]

Decided to write a quick little something for @whumperless-whump-event Day 4: chronic pain/"I'm used to it."

featuring, of course, Sidelined Leo!

like I said before, since it's disability pride month I'd like to do a few things for the Sidelined AU, so hopefully I will find time for more as the days go. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

-----

Leo can tell it's going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up.

The pain in his arms and legs has grown from it's constant dull thrum to a more present burn, and there's a pinch between his eyes that tells him a headache is on the way. Really, he's not surprised; the last few days have been really good. He even went out on a mission two days ago, and did a little skateboarding yesterday. It stands to reason that his body has crashed out on him.

Sometimes he feels angry and bitter about it. Today, he just feels a sort of resigned acceptance. And that means maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

He hits the button on the side of the bed so it bends him into a reclined position, then fumbles around on his side table until his hand lands on his pill organizer. He should probably text someone to bring him water, but it feels like a pain, so he dry swallows them one by one and just resolves not to mention doing that to Dad or Raph.

Then he finally blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks around his room and... darn it, his chair isn't here. Where'd he even leave it...

His memory is a complete blank on that one, so he sighs and clears his throat.

"Hey, Shell-man?"

There's only a second of silence before Shelldon's voice echoes from who even knows where. Donnie rigged his new room with more electronics than Leo will ever know about.

"S'up bro?"

"You know where my chair is?" he asks, like Shelldon can't track it instantly.

"You left it in the arcade, dude," comes the answer. "Want me to wheel it over?"

Yeah, no way he's getting himself to the arcade today. "Sure, thanks, Shelly."

"No problem, dude!"

Leo lets his head flop back on his pillows while he wants for his chair to be delivered. He fumbles around for his phone this time and takes a look at his reminders.

6:00 PM: Concert with Mikester

"Crap," he mutters, closing his eyes. Right, that yokai hip-hop group Mikey wanted to go see. Leo had promised he'd go with him, but he doubts he'll be able to do it now.

It's not that big a deal. Raph or Donnie will probably go with him if Mikey makes big enough puppy eyes at them. It's just, Leo had been kinda excited about it, too...

The dark buzz that heralds his anxiety flares up, and he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow. He doesn't want this day to turn terrible. He needs to relax and accept the things he can't change, like April always says. Even when it sucks.

There's a whir of electronics that signals the arrival of his chair. Leo waits until it parks itself next to his bed, then he swings his legs over the bed and stands up just long enough to sit down in the chair again. Even that leaves him feeling a little winded, but he doubts his arms could have handled the transfer so he doesn't bother trying.

He wheels around his room until he finds his big comfy unicorn hoodie, then drives out into the rest of the lair, making his way up the ramp to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast cooking, and hear Raph's voice.

"Morning fam," he says as he comes in, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he already feels tired.

"Morning Leo!" Mikey echoes, turning around with a whole plate of waffles. His smile falters a little when he sees the chair and the hoodie. "Oof. Flare up?"

"Yeah," he admits, steering his chair into the empty part of the kitchen table. Mikey sets the waffle plate down, and without having to be asked Raph starts fixing some for Leo, with blueberries on top.

It took work for them both to find the line between helping and babying, but they're better at this now. Leo doesn't mind Raph helping him out this way, especially because he'd rather not make a mess of the kitchen table.

"Mikey, can you grab my fat fork?"

"It has a name," says a tired voice behind him, and Leo smirks as Donnie comes around the side and makes for the coffee machine.

"I just used it. It's the fat fork."

"It's a GeniusBuilt Secure Grip Adjustable Fork-"

"I'm not saying all that."

Donnie huffs. Mikey snickers, swinging around him to deliver the fork with the thick grip to Leo. He has another set with a loop that can secure to his hand if he needs it, but this one is fine for now.

"Here!

"Thanks Angelo."

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Raph asks.

"Yes, Mom," says Leo, rolling his eyes as he cuts off a bite of waffle.

"Really? 'Cause Raph didn't hear you ask anyone to bring you water-"

"I had some leftover Gatorade in my room," Leo lies quickly.

"Uh-huh." Raph looks at him skeptically. "Leo, you know taking pills without water hurts your throat."

"Meh meh meh, you'll hurt your throat," Leo repeats in a mocking voice. Raph reaches over like he's going to cuff Leo on the head, then seems to rethink it and steals some of his blueberries instead. "Hey!"

"You are all so noisy already," comes Splinter's voice, and he finally comes into the room to join them, wearing the robe he slept in. He looks up at Leo in his chair. "Are you in pain, Blue?"

Leo hums an affirmative. "It's not that bad, though," he adds, because it's not. Comparatively.

Now it's his dad's turn to look skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Leo grimaces. "It's... a little worse than normal," he amends. "But I can handle it."

"Mmm..." Splinter walks off to get in his own seat. "Let us know if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah..."

The conversation moves on to other topics, up until Leo's wheelchair beeps at him. He groans, glancing down at the battery indicator, which is firmly in the red.

"You forgot to charge it, didn't you?" asks Donnie, looking amused.

"Shut up, I've been busy!" Leo snaps back.

"If you left it on the charger when you aren't using it then this wouldn't happen."

"Alright, anyone else have any criticisms for me today?" he says, except it comes out a shade too bitter and Donnie's grin falters.

Good job, Leon, way to be a dick. He winces, focusing again on his waffles. His arm is sore from the effort of eating and he wants to crawl back in bed and stay there, which is exactly the sort of attitude he's been trying to avoid.

"...I have the backup chair in the lab if you need it," says Donnie. A peace offering.

"Thanks," says Leo, returning it.

So after breakfast, Donnie helps him swap chairs. His main one is put on the charger and he wheels himself to the living room with the backup, then calls for Raph.

"Think you can help me get comfy, big guy?" he asks.

"Of course," says Raph with a grin. "What do you want?"

It's nice that he asks now, instead of assuming.

Leo directs him to help him onto the couch, then Raph gets him his fluffy blue blanket to cover him up. Even though he took his meds, he can feel the pain radiating at his hips and knees and he guesses he's going to need more later. He sets an alarm on his phone and settles in with a Jupiter Jim flick to fall asleep to.

He's not out yet when he hears the pad of feet, then feels the couch dip as Mikey sits next to him.

"Hey Leo," he says softly, and Leo gives a hum to let him know he's still awake. "You think... you're gonna feel up for the concert tonight?"

Oh right. Shoot. It had already slipped Leo's mind, and now he feels guilty all over again.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head so he can see Mikey. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta apologize!" says Mikey quickly. "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's fine," says Leo. "I'm used to it."

"I'm still sorry," says Mikey firmly. He gets up, then comes over so he can give Leo a very awkward couch hug. "I wish you didn't have to hurt," he says, sincerely.

Leo leans into the hug. Feels the dark buzz of anxiety ebb away.

"Hey, it's alright. All you guys make it easier."

Mikey beams at that, bouncing back up. "Hey, I know," he says. "I'll get Donnie to help me set up a sweet livestream so you can see the concert from right here!"

They don't have to go to all that trouble for him. But Leo looks up at his little brother's shining smile and can't say no.

"That'd be really cool," he says, and Mikey claps his hands.

"Yes! Okay, I'll go get Dee and we'll get on it!"

He races away. Leo chuckles, curling up under his blanket.

Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

[skimmeh]

I'm curious about your Mumbo, can you tell me more about him? I saw that in some of your doodles he has a mechanical arm and in others he doesn't, is that canon for him or are you still working out his final design?

I'm still working on his design! But I can tell you all the inspirations I have!!! For his design!! 

He's supposed to be the guys really into robotics (cos you know cc mumbo all about flying machines and they are the closest you can get to robots in villain Minecraft... Rip copper golem) 

So I knew I wanted to make him have like alot of robotics and stuff, that arm was like an idea for extra arms he might use to help with his work.

But then I decided I wanted to kind of stick to a theme. And I came to the idea of the robots being they bug inspired (specifically at first spiny flower mantis) , beacuse that sort of link to my idea of his characters being very intrigued by plants (with s8 potato stuff and then s9 buttercups). So the idea that he uses plants and flowers as like the intelligent force inside his robots ..think mech suits for plants!! 

Then Grumbot! Which important character connected to mumbo ..of which I'm still designing. I thought it would be sweet if his heart was a potato plant! Which is double cute cos potato flowers are kind of star shaped!!! 

And then I started thinking about, you know how there was the phrase when clear cases were a thing on every electronic to look cool. That kind of reminds me of certain bugs!! Or frogs, when you can see their organs! Of which I thought also fitted, if Mumbo's robotics in this au would powered by plants, the idea that most of there outer shells are clear ..makes sense because plants need light, green house type vibe. 

I know this is mostly me just rambling about Mumbo's robotics rather than mumbo himself.... But honestly that's most of the inspiration behind mumbos design!

I'm still working on them ..SOOO this me more talking about the ideas I have then showing anything I've drawn yet haha

[sp4ceboo]

CHAPTER 3 ~ PAINKILLERS & PLEAS

beneath a crimson sky masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader

genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance

a/n: lil update for yall before i start getting busy

chapter warnings: somewhat vividly described gore, possible lazy editing on my part

chapter word count: 3.2k

Over the next week with them, you find that the boys’ unwarranted kindness makes it easier to fit yourself into the rhythm that all their hearts beat too, despite the odds.

Each morning you wake up to heat radiating either side of you, indicators of Minho’s back inches behind you and the length of Chan’s thigh pressed against yours through the double layer of your blankets. Jeongin is always the first to wake, and Hyunjin the last - no more late night tears occur with him. You wonder if Minho or Seungmin or even Chan have told him not to be alone with you, just in case.

Changbin, you find, is a little more serious on the exterior than he was when he was a child, though you’re not sure if it’s from being forced to survive or general maturing or even the time he’s spent serving in the army - he was lucky to be on leave when the Pestilence came. One thing you deem as odd is that he seems a little less vigilant of you than you’d expect him to be, but then again, nothing is exactly as you expect it to be. His eyes still hold no recognition for you. Somehow it makes the kindness in them harder to stomach.

You manage to avoid inciting Minho’s protective wrath, garner a few spare smiles from the still wary Jeongin, and crack Jisung’s shell enough to talk briefly about his music production. Best of all, you earn Felix’s friendship. His smiles feel like a trail of crumbs leading you closer and closer to a place where you might have the chance of belonging.

You’re eager to earn their trust, not only because it would give you someone to trust in return, but also because you’re beginning to realise just how close you were to driving yourself crazy when you were on your own. You want to prove you’re useful, if not to them, to yourself.

You want to know that there’s a reason, other than luck, for you to have survived thus far.

So when the opportunity presents itself, you seize it. Changbin is surveying his neat arrangement of cans and bottles in the corner, his lips moving silently as he calculates how much longer they’ll last, when he announces it: you need to go on a supply run. Chan offers to come first, you next, causing Felix to perk up and volunteer too, which leads to Seungmin saying he’ll join as well before a narrow eyed Minho can.

Now, you stand just outside the lab, all your masks pulled up over your faces. You’ve got an empty rucksack over your shoulder and the knife that Minho handed to you, along with a threatening look, stowed safely in your pocket. Absently, you fiddle with the rucksack’s straps, craning your neck to look up at the disturbing, crimson sky.

“We could clear out the convenience store I met you guys at,” you suggest when Changbin doesn’t immediately lead you in a particular direction. “Unless you had anywhere else in mind,” you add hastily.

“The petrol that leaked will all be used up,” Chan points out. “We won’t have that safety measure.”

“It’s close, though,” Seungmin replies, agreeing with you, to your surprise. “We won’t be long.”

“Changbin?” Felix asks.

He shrugs. “I’m the only one who hasn’t been there. You tell me.”

All four of you look over at Chan, who makes a face and gestures for you to lead the way. It doesn’t take long for you to get to the petrol station, just like the first time. You still have to skirt your way around the dead body twenty metres from the lab, you still have to turn the corner round the Korean BBQ shop.

As you do, your eyes widen, because the place looks almost unrecognisable. The electronic sign that would have displayed the petrol prices has been almost fully melted from the fire, which must have caught one of the other pumps so suddenly it exploded - the whole shop front is blackened, the glass blown in. Ironically, it looks like something from a zombie movie.

“Guess I need to be sent to jail for arson,” you mutter.

“Wait, you did this?” Changbin asks.

Felix huffs. “I told you I wasn’t exaggerating.”

You feel heat rising up your neck and shove open the door, careful as you step over the shards of glass littered all over the scorched linoleum floor. There’s several small scuff marks on the floor, too small to be human footprints. Idly, you wonder if any of the feral dogs have learnt to open tin cans as well as survive without their owners.

Cold wind gusts in through the broken door, whistling between the high shelves and ruffling Chan’s hair. Involuntarily, you shiver. It’s strange to see a place that you’d visited so many times reduced to this state: food on the lower shelves has been knocked down, plastic bags ripped open, the contents half eaten and rotting, no doubt the doing of wild animals. A crow flaps by and settles on one of the registers, eyeing you and snapping a beak stained with a type of red you don’t want to think about.

“Grab whatever you can,” Chan instructs once he’s stepped in after Seungmin. “Changbin and I will get the water.”

You nod, wincing as glass crunches beneath your shoes and following Felix and Seungmin deeper into the store, the latter peeling off after a while to pile some tinned vegetables into his bag, the former turning to talk to you.

“Shall we try in the back?” He asks. “When I came through here to look for an exit, it looked like they had a lot of food in storage.”

“Sure,” you answer, pushing open the already ajar door, squinting against the darkness within.

You make it several steps in before the stench hits you. There’s no doubt that something or someone has died in here; the smell of rotting flesh hits you like a punch in the face, and you clap a hand over your face while beside you, Felix retches. The next thing you notice is the trail of blood, as if a body was dragged in here from somewhere else in the store, and your heart plunges.

How could you be so stupid? How could you be so distracted by the burns and glass on the floor and gathering food that you didn’t see the streaks of dried blood, rusty on the ground beneath your feet?

Then comes a jingle, and you catch a quick flash of silver: light, reflected off something fixed to a shadow on the floor, and as your eyes begin to adjust, you realise with a jolt what it is. A metal tag, dangling from what must have once been a lovely blue collar that is now stained almost black with dirt and what you’re beginning to realise is blood. A lot of fucking blood.

The shadow attached to the collar growls.

Felix makes a choked sound, and the wind howls in and pushes the door open more, further illuminating the room and revealing what exactly the dog was feeding on - one of the store workers, long dead from what must have been the illness. The blood staining its muzzle is nothing like the old smears on the floor, not brown but the startling red of the sky.

You curse under your breath as several more growls sound, more dogs appearing from behind the storeroom shelves. The two of you won’t stand a chance fighting against them. These are the dogs that survived without their owners, who probably weren’t even trained properly, who would definitely prefer fresh, still warm meat to the rotting human they dragged into their new home.

Backing away, you fumble for the knife in your pocket. The first dog growls, and you can see the muscles in its haunches bunching, as it prepares to launch itself at you. You are completely and utterly screwed.

Adrenaline rockets through you. A stupid, entirely unhelpful thought shoots through your head: this is what your ancestors felt like before they tamed the wolf. Though not exactly - the one difference is that these dogs are not wild and they don’t have the instincts of a wolf to capably hunt for themselves, which means they’re hungry and you’re food.

Lurching to the side, you scrabble for anything on the shelf to your right, knocking over half the cans with a huge clatter, and launch the first thing your fingers come in contact with at the dog, just the second before it leaps.

The can of cat food glances off its shoulder but hits hard enough that your throat thankfully doesn’t get torn out.

Whirling around, as fast as you can in the seconds remaining before the dog recovers and attacks again, you grab Felix by the arm and shunt him as hard as you can towards the door. He stumbles, cursing, but makes it through and you sprint for the door too.

Felix’s eyes widen. You turn just in time, almost overbalancing in your haste, blindly stabbing out with your knife.

Fortunately, your blade hits home, and you narrowly miss probably losing a leg.

Less fortunately, your calf gets shredded into ribbons.

Agony tears through you, almost brings you to your knees, but your momentum sends you forward, out of the storeroom. Swearing colourfully, Felix catches you and kicks the door shut behind you, and it shakes with the impact of what must be the other dogs hurling themselves against it.

Seungmin hurtles around the corner, closely followed by Changbin and Chan. You grit your teeth, your eyes watery, fighting back the scream that builds in your throat, knowing your nails are biting into Felix’s arms and hurting him but unable to stop yourself. Changbin takes one look at the blood streaming down your leg and strides over, easing you out of Felix’s hold and hooking an arm around your waist so he can keep you upright.

“We need to get out of here,” you gasp. “I don’t know if the door will hold.”

“What happened?” Seungmin demands.

“She saved my life,” Felix replies. “I’ll explain later. Let’s go.”

You attempt to take a step forward, still clutching Changbin’s arm for support, and realise that it’s not such a great idea at all when spots fizzle to life right before your eyes, pain shooting through your leg as if someone’s replaced your shin bone with a hot poker. A stifled sound rips itself from you as you straighten, trying to fight back the wave of nausea that fills you when you glance down.

Blood runs down your legs and collects in your shoe, soaking your sock. The wound is messy, all torn flesh mixed in with shredded cloth, and you can see the puncture marks from the dog’s teeth, neat circles that tear away in long gashes. You sag against Changbin.

“I’ll carry you.” He phrases it like a suggestion, but you get the feeling he’d do it even if you refused.

Mutely, you nod. You’re half certain you’ve gone into shock.

He picks you up with ease, careful not to jostle you as he holds you with one arm under your legs and the other at your back. You tip your head to rest against his shoulder, trying to focus on the firm feel of his chest against your side in a failing attempt to ignore the blaring, insistent pain in your leg.

The brisk pace that Seungmin sets as he walks ahead with Chan while Felix explains means that to keep up, Changbin can’t hold you steady enough to completely avoid jarring your leg; you can’t remember when, but he’s tied a tourniquet for you from his shirt sleeve, tight enough that pulses rather than an onslaught of pain come throbbing down your leg with each step he takes. The distance from the store to the lab stretches far longer than it was on the way there.

“I’ve decided to become a cat person,” Changbin mutters. “Even though I’m allergic.”

You manage a strained laugh, knowing he’s trying to distract you. You already know he’s allergic. When he came over to your house after school, he’d always insist on petting your cat, even when his eyes and nose streamed.

Changbin laughs too, but it’s nothing like his real laugh, just a hollow sound that might have somewhat put you at ease if you didn’t know he was faking it. He twists sideways so he doesn’t bash your feet against the door frame into the lab. Sweat begins to bead on your forehead.

Looking worried, Felix’s face appears beside you, and he pulls off his mask, grabbing your hand tightly and squeezing it, unable to hide the concern roiling in his eyes despite the wavering smile he gives you. His face has paled a little, making his freckles stand out starkly, like brown constellations across a honey sky. They fade as your eyes go blurry.

“I’m sorry I didn’t move sooner,” he says, gnawing at his lip. “If you hadn’t had to push me out the door, you might have gotten out before the dog jumped.”

You force your eyes to focus on him. Over his shoulder, there’s a commotion as Seungmin and Chan enter the lab, no doubt relaying the story. “It’s okay, Felix. I froze up too. Seeing the body… it was awful.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was,” he nods. “Thank you.”

Hyunjin rushes over, his face draining of colour when he sees you. “Oh, shit.”

The others crowd around too, before Changbin orders them away and helps you sit down. Wordless, Minho kneels beside you, a muscle in his jaw feathering as he cuts away the rest of your ruined trouser leg, peeling off the scraps of blood soaked fabric from where they stick to your skin with laser focus. You think you glimpse a hint of concern in his eyes, but the pain has made you dizzy.

Everyone else steers clear, though Felix and Hyunjin send you worried looks, and Chan talks in a low voice with Seungmin and Jeongin. You get the impression that an injury as serious as yours has happened before, and they know to leave Minho alone as he works to clean your leg and bandage it, keeping Changbin’s tourniquet in place.

He doesn’t speak, either to put you at ease or to tell you how bad it is, so you take it as a good sign. Hiding your face in the crook of your elbow, you lie back and grit your teeth. You don’t want to look at your calf. You don’t want to know the damage.

Eventually, he sits back on his heels and cleans his hands on one of the less soiled wet wipes he must have been using to sanitise your calf. Getting up without a word, he turns and searches the rucksacks until he finds what he’s looking for, taking out a few pill packets and popping out two from each before returning to your side and holding them out to you with a freshly opened bottle of water.

“Painkillers,” he informs you. “Probably enough to knock you out for a bit, once they kick in. And antibiotics, since dog bites get infected a lot. Hopefully they’ll work if it transmitted the Pestilence, too.”

He watches you choke them down.

You don’t point out that if antibiotics worked on Pestilence, a lot more people would be alive right now.

Minho bundles up a spare blanket and eases it under your leg, his voice curt. “Keep it elevated. Try not to move too much.”

You blink as he walks off. He doesn’t really have anywhere to walk off to, so he just inserts himself between Jisung and Jeongin, who are sorting through the supplies he, Chan and Changbin managed to grab before you all left, his jaw still clenched.

Chan sits down beside you, a dark expression on his face as he takes in Minho’s handiwork, fiddling with his masks before he stills his hands, shoves the masks into his pocket, and gives you a hard look. You get the feeling that you’re about to be reprimanded, and you don’t really like the idea, but you can’t exactly get up and evade him.

“What you did was stupid.”

Yup, there it is.

“But it was also brave,” he adds, surprising you.

“There’s a fine line between brave and stupid,” you reply dryly.

He huffs a laugh. “That’s true, but I just wanted to thank you. It’s a pretty big deal to get bitten by a dog for some guys you didn’t know a week ago.”

You look at him. Belatedly, you realised that this - Chan saying that he values what you did - is him extending the olive branch. Before, you could tell he was still unsure about you, but there’s a certainty that sparkles in his eyes now, a confidence that fills you with a burst of hope that catches you off guard with its suddenness. There’s a chance that you might have caught the disease and that you might spread it to the others if you have, but he’s willing to take that risk because you are someone he wants to keep around, someone he knows he can trust with his life and with his friends’ lives.

You can feel the painkillers beginning to work, your eyelids drooping and the acute pain of the dog bite being washed away by numbness, but they don’t hold back the startling rush of clarity that clears your head: you didn’t hesitate this time, and you won’t hesitate the next.

“I’d do it again,” you tell Chan, so softly he has to lean forward to hear.

A strange look passes over his face. He gets up but pauses for a moment. “Let’s hope you won’t have to.”

You close your eyes so you don’t have to see him walk away. Your head is fuzzy, and you can no longer feel the sharpness in your calf - it’s turned into a dull ache, weak enough that you could forget it’s there. You don’t want to forget it’s there.

There’s a shuffling sound beside you and you crack your eyes open again. Felix is there, looking like an angel with his blonde hair and freckles and sweet, worried face. Reaching forward, he takes your hand again but says nothing, and you cling to him, suddenly irrationally afraid that they’re going to leave you while you’re sleeping. You try to focus on his face in an attempt to fend off the tidal waves of fatigue crashing over you.

“Felix,” you whisper. “What if I get the disease?”

He squeezes your hand, hard enough for you to wince, but you don’t let go, needing to hear what he says before you give in to sleep.

“You won’t,” he says.

It sounds more like a plea than a promise.

taglist: @estella-novella@0bticeo@lixies-favorite-cookie@smashleywow@realrintaro @extremechaoswarning @4l17h4 @hyunjinsjeans @insufferablyunbearable @lovemepie67 @needsumcomfypillowstosleep @loumin908 (let me know if you want to be added)

[seat-safety-switch]

I love my fireworks, say all my neighbours as they cram a flimsy plastic tube full of low-yield explosives. Surely everyone in my community will also appreciate them. If not, they are some kind of Grumpy Gus and are not invited to the block party cookout. Friends, I can tell you this right now: I am not going to that barbecue.

As you might have imagined, the residents of my area of the world like to shoot off a bunch of Roman candles when they feel like it. Sure, fireworks are fun and all, but I feel like if you're burning three or four hundred dollars worth of illegal noise-and-light generators every couple of weeks, you might as well just take up smoking again.

At first, it was a lot of fun. Very festive. It helped the community spirit, even if all the dogs were constantly terrified and kept trying to chew through a fence to escape. Ol' Ray down the block lost a finger trying to grab onto what he called a "Winky Sprinkler," though, and then everything changed.

Once there was a scent of blood in the air, it became a competition. Ray needed to "make it worth" his sacrifice, so he started amping up his production. Bigger shows. Coordinated by electronics. More frequently. This drew the ire of another rich asshole (Bob Winsome, who used to own the Ford dealership) with poor impulse disorder, and soon the two of them were getting up to a night-time artillery show that the police were not equipped to stop, mostly because they were at the doughnut store or trying to knock over a casino for some quick cash in the retirement fund at the time.

Nearly every night became a terror of pop-pop-pop. although I am very good at ignoring troublesome noises, those noises are usually generated by my own car while I'm driving them. Not constantly happening while I'm trying to focus on my usual problems: things like "why is this bolt stripped," and "where did this pile of wires I just cut through go to?"

As the Constitution says, though: "fuck 'em if they can't take a joke." After one particularly rough night of having exploding munitions going off directly over my head while I was trying to find the origin of some faint valve clatter, I decided to respond in kind. A friend of mine, who will be called Millie Teri for reasons that are about to become clear, loaned me a couple pieces from her private collection. I had myself a patriotic parade that night. Courtesy, of course, of some army bases didn't really pay too close attention to what they listed on eBay. That's what they call "taxpayer value," even if I did have to technically buy the low-shrapnel M107 flash shells twice.

I had expected to draw a truce after demonstrating my superior firepower, much like how French tourists can shut down any discussion of cheese. After bombarding both rich pricks' homes, however, it soon became apparent that the dickheads blamed each other for the massive destruction wrought on their properties, and refused to believe that a belligerent third party could have done such a thing to them just for "several months of sleepless nights courtesy of constant 120dB outside noise."

After the mutually-assured destruction finished, though, I never saw or heard another fireworks display from Ol' Ray or Bob Winsome. If they ever find an identifiable chunk of either of their bodies, we'll probably have a pretty cool tribute at the funeral using up whatever unexploded fireworks they have still left in the scorched remnants of their family homes.

[wealmostaneckbeard]

The Perfect Protagonist in a Horror Campaign:

Every other mech in Lancer is designed like a slasher movie killer or a cosmic horror monster. But Harrison Armory's Napoleon frame is Final Girl coded. Wearing this suit of powered armor guarantees that you will survive to see the end credits. Every scary thing that a GM could throw at you, you'll be able to say "Nuh Uh" to:

"You'll have to dismount from your mech in order to access the control room!"

Nope, you're Size 1/2. Whatever wants to kill you is going to have to get through your armor.

"The crazed space-pirate can inflict 20 points of damage in one hit thanks to their ship-killer cannon!"

Thanks to Heavy Shielding and Flash Aegis that's probably going to be reduced to 1 point of damage. Maybe even less if Stasis Bolt is active.

"The MONIST class entity can hack any electronic device, even your mech, and turn it against it's user!"

Can't hack a brick, which is what the Napoleon become when you Activate Aegis. Also you'll only be taking 1 point of damage, thank you... maybe even less thanks to Stasis Bolt.

"Your Friend is going to be murdered right in front of you!"

Your Stasis Barrier mildly disagree. Stasis Generator and Blinkshield vehemently and in the strongest terms disagrees. Stasis Bolt is in the back, shaking its figurative head disapprovingly, but it's not clear if it's actually going to do anything. But if your friends DO die, that's fine, it's necessary for the narrative, can't have a horror movie without a body count.

"I'm sorry but the Displacer isn't that great..."

What happened to the other guy? Whatever. That's a great point to end on. Look, the Napoleon's Displacer is not supposed to be used at the start of the movie, when your friend hears something and says "I'm going to go check it out, brb." It's supposed to be used after the killer has taken so much damage that his mask has been ripped off, he's bleeding out, and he wants to score one last kill. It is the gas tank rigged to explode. It is the dead cop's shotgun with one last shell in the chamber. It is the big red self destruct button that sets off an ominous countdown.

In conclusion: The Napoleon is for you if you want to survive in the most dramatic way possible.

[ifitwasediblewouldyoueatit]

clear colored plastic tamagotchi toy where you can see the circuits and stuff on the inside. plus other clear colored plastic shelled electronic toys of that era

[o-craven-canto]

Related to the convergence vs. contingency ask I got a while ago, here's a list of adaptations I'd expect to find on any planet with Earth-like surface conditions and complex (equivalent to Earth's post-Cambrian) life:

Cellular organization, eukaryote-like cells with separated compartments for genome and energy production; large organisms multicellular or at least multi-nucleate

Most energy in the biosphere ultimately from sunlight; most energy is produced in the shorter term by transferring electrons to a strong oxidiser, most likely oxygen

Sex-like recombination of genomes common; most large organisms have a unicellular stage in their lifecycle (e.g. a zygote) and reproduce sexually at least part of the time (and when they do, each individual has two genetic parents); some kind of sexual dimorphism is very common at any given time, at least at gamete level

Most biomass at any given time consists in photoautotrophs, i.e. organisms using sunlight to synthesize organic molecules from scratch; biomass on land is greater than biomass in water, unless land is rare or the colonization of land has not occurred a long time ago

Fractal structure and/or radial symmetry common among organisms that move little actively or not at all; phototrophs have leaf-like light collectors that overlap to form a dense canopy

Bilateral symmetry dominant among organisms that move actively (so, clear distinction between front and back, and between up and down, but not between left and right, especially in outer morphology); sense organs, mouth, and central nervous system concentrated at the front end

Multiple "tree-like" and "worm-like" clades; filter-feeding a very common strategy in water; everything that has to move fast in water is spindle-shaped

Nearly all mobile organisms have long-range chemical, mechanical, and electromagnetic senses (i.e. smell, hearing, and sight), with the respective organs arising independently many times; perception of electrical fields may be common in water but not in air; communication is overwhelmingly vocal and/or visual

Every large organism has some sort of skeletal support; a skeleton based on hydraulic pressure is common in small organisms that move slowly, and a jointed exoskeleton is probably common in small faster movers (hard shells built from carbonates or silica will be popular in water), but the vast majority of largest organisms (say, >1 kg) probably has an internal skeleton

[mi6-cafe]

07.1.2024 Hijacking

On July 1st, the remains of the world’s criminal and governmental intelligence networks have their electronics hijacked by a starfish avatar. The deep, modulated voice claims that a method to stop what people are calling the Big Snooze will be provided in exchange for a quadrillion dollars. 

“That’s fifteen zeroes,” the starfish avatar clarifies. 

(“Fifteen?” the legal analyst in Station Atlantic cries out.) 

“You can raise it collectively rather than individually,” the starfish adds. “It’ll be novel to see the likes of SPECTRE and MI6 paying into the same slush fund.” 

(“Fifteen zeroes is a GDP, not a slush fund,” the lone remaining SPECTRE hench comments to the sharks next to him.)  

This week’s mission becomes clear. Obviously, they can’t count on their governments to shell out essential cash in order to save people’s lives. Therefore, they need to find a lead on the starfish's location, investigate their base, and find out how they caused the Big Snooze so it can be reversed. 

In Station Atlantic, Gale makes contact with Jamie. He had no idea who worked here and who didn’t, but he was going to make friends with the person who brought food for sure.

In Station Pacific, Sefa the publican hosts the Archivist and Kitten in The Hole and Corner; Kitten pulls a tablet out of her “mom bag” for the meeting while the Archivist offers notes from a bulging briefcase. 

How successful will the two stations’ investigations into the Big Snooze Starfish be? Will they achieve their goals, or will these brave support staff end up needing support themselves? Station Atlantic and Station Pacific dive into their search for the sinister sea creature and resolve to report back by the end of July 7th! 

[novemberfire]

[wolfpuppygirl]

I think we should bring back those exhibitionist electronics with their clear shells and exposed circuits. They just look nice (wants to fuck the computer)

[theurbanmechcomesforthee]

Horseshoe Crab Design Proposal Transcript

-Horseshoe crab based of the Crab... A tank or quadvee?

I think a quadvee, since on the actual animal, the arms are on the underside and they... have to face up to get any arms far past the shell. Or so I remember, that is.

-Hardened armor, of course. Or Clan Ferro. I assume stock Crab armament is fine, potentially double up on arm-mounted LL's. Removal of the medium will be fine, replace with LAMS for extra survivability. Replace SML laser with SPL. If doubling up on full loadout like arm mounted weapons, instead of additional SPL and LAMS, Nova CEWS can be applied. 1t extra can be applied to an additional DHS to counterweight heat.

Survivability. Considerations have been made for reinforced structure have been made but has been shut down. Armor is our main concern. Harjel is considered as well as Blue Shield PFD.

-C-PPC acquisition and usage is concerning among incoming units. If we can get the weight and space savings for Harjel we will, but i push more strongly for PFD.

Interesting. Pegged you for more of a Harjel man yourself, Stafford.

-I know, boss. Desperate times. If we're concerned about Clan energy weapons in rival merc's hands, Glazed armor is what i was recommended by Locke. Expecting excessive ER medium and large laser usage, i was told, not just PPCs. If we can't fit it, too bad. Harjel then.

Fair play. Glazed armor is weak to melee- and simply not ideal for ballistic and missiles. Missiles are countered by the AMS as previously covered. If we're still on about the large lasers, that will be ideal so range countering is less of an issue. The better option for countering from then is longer range lower damage ballistics or artillery which the enemy is not likely to set up quickly. Which i imagine is exactly what you want?

-Which naturally plays into the grander strategy to outrange the enemies and split attention between spread out units. Any further issues can be handled by stronger frontliners.

Or dedicated electronic warfare specialists. Which you do have around base, correct?

-Yep.

Then, far as you're concerned, you're in the clear. You have mah offi-shal auth-ori-za-tions ta get it movin'.

I'll send'ja a signature. Getcha shit an' get out.

-Will do, Bones. Thanks. Forwarding this transcript to Locke and Melissa Hazen. They'll both want to know of the new developments.

Hang on. Before you disconnect. Locke I understand. Why Melis-

[END TRANSCRIPT]

[finnsworldz]

GUYS HELP HELP HELP MY LAPTOP WONT TURN ON AND I CANT GO TO MY MOM ABOUT IT BECAUSE SHELL THINK I BROKE IT BECAUSE I HAVE A HISTORY OF PUNCHING ELECTRONICS WHEN I GET MAD BUT I NEED IT TO WORK SO I CAN CLEAR STORAGE SPACE ON GOOGLE FUCK WHAT DO I DO THE POWER BUTTON WONT PRESS IN AND WHEN I GET IT TO CLICK IT WONT TURN ON AND IT SAYS THE BAYTERY IS FULL WHEN I PLUG IT IN SO IT IS WORKING BUT ITS NOT TURNING ON IM FREAKING OUT I NEED IT TO WORK :(((

[satoshi-mochida]

DROS coming to Xbox Series, Xbox One on September 19 - Gematsu

Publisher RedDeerGames and developer emergeWorlds will release dark fantasy puzzle platformer DROS will launch for Switch on September 19, the companies announced.

DROS first launched for PC via Steam, GOG, Humble Store on July 20, 2023, followed by Switch on July 12, 2024.

Here is an overview of the game, via its store pages:

About

DROS is a dark fantasy adventure where you’ll swap between a small gooey creature and her human bounty hunter shell. Little Dros and Captain are very different beings but they’ll have to put aside their differences to make it out of the spooky Alchemy Tower in one piece. Unravel the mysteries within the Tower as you meet its strange inhabitants. Collect alchemical treasures and explore a world where there’s a twist around every corner.

Switch Between Two Very Different Beings

You’ll need to body swap! Jump, squirm and stealth around as Little Dros. Open heavy doors, weigh down pressure plates and clear a path as Captain. Oh, and beware… every one of the 40 levels of the Tower is unique!

Talk to a Huge Range of Strange Characters

Chat with many odd and loveable characters on your journey. Humans and Dros alike live within the Tower. It’s a place where the lines between good and evil are blurred.

Use Your Brains and Power

There’s a whole bunch of obstacles to overcome. You’ll use both brains and brawn to solve puzzles, fight off creepy creatures, put together alchemical treasures and uncover the many stories within.

Key Features

Handcrafted visuals. Every little corner of the Tower has been designed with great detail.

Unique soundtrack. We worked with electronic pioneer Arovane to make a soundtrack that weaves through the world.

Explore 40 levels each with their own puzzle mechanics, enemies, hidden rooms and platforming.

Body Swap between Captain, a human bounty hunter and Little Dros, a small gooey creature.

Play as two very different characters with their own strengths and weaknesses.

Amass Prima and gain new abilities.

Odd and often charming characters to meet and talk with.

Narrative with humor and a bunch of heart.

Collect diary entries to unlock story and endings.

New Challenges become available after you finish the game.

Speedrun to find special secrets.

Watch a new trailer below.

Xbox Series and Xbox One Release Date Trailer