#doping case

[fa-cat]

US figure skaters set to get team gold medals at Paris Olympics after ruling in 2022 doping case

The U.S. figure skating team was formally confirmed as gold medalists from the 2022 Beijing Olympics by a sports court ruling Thursday, opening the way for the team to get its medals at the Paris Summer Games.

----

It took the latest CAS ruling in the Valieva saga to guarantee the U.S. team its overdue gold medals, and for Japan to be in line for upgraded silvers.

Special medal ceremonies are planned by the IOC in the second week of the Paris Olympics to honor athletes whose results have been upgraded because of doping cases that were prosecuted and resolved in recent years.

Those celebrations will be in the Champions Park plaza looking across to the Eiffel Tower on the opposite bank of the Seine River.

“This (CAS) decision comes just in time to still be able to make the medal allocation for gold and silver possible” in Paris, the International Olympic Committee said in a statement.

[spriinglocked]

additionally some screenshots i took of sebastian for size reference/general drawing reference

i foinde fishe :)))))

[playingwithyourjigglypuff]

alright this has been sitting in captivity (my wips folder) for far too long it's time to release it into the wild (tumblr.com)

[keeps-ache]

nothing to say?

[telesodalite]

Thinking about KrokFire...

Thinking about them sparring in the cargohold, because it's a long trip, and cabin fever is setting in, and Misfire is gonna pop a gasket if he doesn't do something about it soon, since flying in open space gets real boring real fast, and it's making everyone a little nervous, but Krok has time to kill, and maybe, quietly, he's also two steps away from doing something stupid just to feel alive again after cruising around pointlessly, mindlessly, endlessly, for so so long... (It's barely been a month)

And sure, Misfire is a terrible sparring partner. He has no technique, no concept of proper balance, or an inkling of how to use the weight of his own frame. He rushes headfirst like he's more bull than fighter jet, he talks too much, he spits, he bites, and he can't stand losing. But, in a roundabout way, it almost makes him the perfect partner in Krok's eyes.

Crankcase won't spar, "can't" he claims flatly, gesturing at the gaping hole in his helm, but Krok can respect his want for distance. That occasional flash of fear and frozen unease in Crankcase's visor in close combat doesn't go over his head. He knows that look. He gets it. He won't push.

Fulcrum... well, a streetlight might be a tougher fight, or at least it would stay up longer and complain less. So much for a once respectable officer of the empire. What was Deathsaurus' command thinking promoting anyone without any actual combat training? It would almost be pathetic if Fulcrum didn't find a way to put the vitriol of thrown fists into his words instead. Now there was some swears Krok hadn't heard in a couple millennia, it would be inspiring if it wasn't his own spark Fulcrum had been damning to the pits and back through a bloody nose.

Spinister? Now Spinister was a good fighter, a better fighter, Krok wasn't so prideful to deny that truth. He'd tasted the dust of the cargohold floor enough to know it was a definitive fact. But Spinister held back, he was careful, he matched Krok's pace, his movements, he held himself defensively, any attack was quick, simple, and merely restraining. It was less a fight, and more a waiting game until Krok finally gave up, and that... well, that did sting a bit.

But Misfire? Misfire was a different beast all together. Sure Krok could dance circles around the flier all day, but it wasn't totally effortless work, he had to stay sharp, Misfire was so predictably unpredictable, he kept him thinking, moving, on his toes, and maybe it felt good to sidestep another stupid headfirst charge, easily grabbing and swinging Misfire around by his arm, so unbalanced all Krok had to do was let him go, and the weight of his own frame would send him careening into the crates stacked around them.

Most days, Misfire would give up by then, pull himself off the pile of overturned cargo with no small amount of burning shame and frustration, as he avoided Krok's optics and stormed off into the bowels of the ship before Krok could say something to ease the sting of losing again and again. Misfire didn't want his apologies though, and even as a pang of guilt ate at him over it, Krok knew he'd be back eventually.

But today, too pent-up and bored to quit now, Misfire pushed himself back onto his feet and charged back in again, and again, and again.

And Krok moved with him again, and again, and again. It was almost repetitive, but lively enough that he could feel the energon pumping through his head, a thrumming beat in his audials that reminds him of deafening battlefields and roaring stadiums, and oh, he'd missed this feeling, the adrenaline, the movement, more so than he thought he did.

Maybe it's the overconfidence that gets him then, or the memories pulling him out of the present, but Misfire's fist suddenly comes slamming down into his mask, and for a moment everything becomes a blur, until he finds himself on the floor, clutching at the shattered metal falling from his face in disbelief.

Faintly he can feel the twinge of broken mesh, of pain pinching dully across scarred flickering sensors, and maybe it's the adrenaline that pulls a suprised and breathy laugh out of him as he stares down at the pieces in his hand.

Maybe it's also the disbelief, the sudden shock at being struck hard enough to break his mask, by Misfire of all mechs. Or maybe he's cracked his helm, finally snapping something important deep in his processor, some vital function that kept him sane all these years.

Either way, an old familiar buzz of heady energy fills his chest, loosening his joints and straightening his struts as he stands back up, brushing off the broken remains of his mask as he stares back at Misfire, barefaced and bleeding and amused as the flier's optics go bright and wide.

And all Misfire can do for a moment is stand there, wide-eyed and breathless, his own adrenaline filled frame and hammering processor still trying to make sense of the broken plating of his knuckles and the energon trickling down Krok's scarred lips.

But connections are made, and it's a panicked realization at first, a cold dread, a 'ohhhhh fuck oh primus I fucked up I'm dead I'm so fucking dead-!' sort of feeling, as Krok's marred face breaks into an energon stained grin. But then there's another feeling, growing somewhere underneath the panic, a sudden curl of heat in his chest, a flush of pride, conviction, a sort of frenzied joy at the sight of broken mesh and fresh energon, and another rush of hot anticipation as Krok began to move again, circling, waiting, an unspoken question in the air as he rolls his shoulders back and flexes his hands.

And Misfire answers eagerly, suprising himself almost as he charges foward again, wanting more of that feeling, wanting to win again.

It's not really sparring past this point, and somewhere in the back of their minds they both know that. Every strike, every kick, every punch, it's all thoughtless instinct, each clash of plating, and bite of denta, and scrape of fingertips, is part of a mad dash for victory in the gladiator pit of scrap and debris they've built around themselves.

Of course, it can't last forever. They're no real gladiators, no phase-sixers, no primes, and movements get sluggish, vents rattle and wheeze as coolant pumps reach their limits, and building condensation slides powerless punches right off of scuffed metal and mesh.

Even like this though, worn out and bleeding from more scrapes than he had half a mind to count, Krok is still better, and Misfire is still predictable, and it's no great feat to sweep his legs out from beneath him, landing him flat on the floor, wings spread out and chestplate heaving.

Overworked joints sharply protest as he goes to pin the flier down bodily, and finally Krok faces the fact he has to consider how to end this, so he might let his own beaten frame finally still for a moment to breathe.

But as Krok catches one flailing arm in his grip, scoffing at the desperation, still goading Misfire on even as he tries to end this, a hand stubbornly catches his throat, but stops before it can truly squeeze.

And once more they're not really moving, just staring, watching, but it's less wired and tense now, rather, its shaky, a little unfocused, as exhaustion filters out in heaving puffs of hot air between their frames.

Someone's plating is rattling, Krok isn't sure if it's his own or Misfire's, but the cost of adrenaline is painfully noticeable now. His grip loosens on Misfire's arms, and the idea of total victory is less sweet as his cables begin to ache throughout his inner-framework.

But Misfire's hand slides up to catch his jaw before he can lean back and relent to a truce, and he's pulling him closer, and Krok starts to push him off, call it quits before either of them breaks something past repair, but a flash of energon on Misfire lips catches his eye, and that hadn't been there a moment ago?

Before he can even begin to ask what that was supposed to mean, Misfire is pulling him down again, angling his helm upwards to feverishly meet his lips half-way.

Although the mesh of Misfire's face was throughly bruised and scuffed, Krok had frustratingly failed to return the favor of a busted lip. So, it had to be his own, smeared across Misfire's face at some point in the scuffle, it shouldn't have been interesting in the slightest, but Krok's processor was hazy, slow, and his optics trailed Misfire's glossa as he licked his lips and made an odd curious sound.

And maybe it was a stupid move to make so impulsively, one he'd regret making probably, but still too caught up in the waning heated high of the fight, Misfire figured he could worry about losing such a hard-earned battle later. Right now, this seemed far better than actually winning, and the taste of Krok's energon felt like a victory and reward nonetheless.

Bracing himself as Misfire wriggled his other hand free to splay out over his thigh, holding him desperately against his frame as he tried pulling him even closer, Krok considered the heat dispersion warnings flickering distractingly in his peripheral, and the very noticeable strain on his back and legs, even his arms.

It's not a great position to be in right now, after all they've done already. He'll regret it, he knows he will, his body will make sure of it, if Spinister doesn't first.

But then Misfire's glossa is sliding against the jagged edges of his teeth, and he's making hoarse little pathetic noises into Krok's mouth that stoke some sort of ego at having the flier so desperate beneath him, and Misfire's hands are warm and heavy over aching plating and seams, and really, on second thought, after weeks of boredom, why the hell not?

They've got nowhere to be.

[shivunin]

Thinking about Ingellvar and death and arranging for end-of-life plans for everyone as an act of love

[fa-cat]

ワリエワがドーピングで金メダル剥奪へ　日本は繰り上がり団体銀メダル＝露報道

2022年の北京五輪期間中にドーピング陽性が発覚したフィギュアスケート女子のカミラ・ワリエワ（ロシア）が、同五輪で獲得した団体金メダルをはく奪される見通しになったとロシアメディアが報じた。

ワリエワのドーピング問題を巡っては、スポーツ仲裁裁判所（CAS）が2月までに裁定を下す公算が高まっている。

　そうした中、ワリエワの地元ロシアで金メダルはく奪の方向性が伝えられた。同国メディア「チャンピオナット」は「カミラ・ワリエワとロシアチームは、団体金メダルをはく奪される」と報道した。

「今年、カミラ・ワリエワの壮大なドーピング事件がついに決着する。CASは、スケーター自身がオンラインで出席した数日間の審問を経て、最終的な判決を下すことになる。ワリエワが完全に無罪となるとは考えにくい」との見通しを示した。

　そして「ワリエワ、マーク・コンドラチュク、アナスタシア・ミシナとアレクサンドル・ガリヤモフ、ビクトリア・シニツィナとニキータ��カツァラポフで構成されるロシアチームは五輪の金メダルを失うことになる」と北京五輪の団体金メダルのはく奪が内定したと指摘。

　続けて「ワリエワはさらにいくつかの金メダル、ロシア選手権や欧州選手権でのメダルを失うことになる」と北京五輪前の金メダルも次々と失うことが濃厚になった。

　ロシアの団体金メダルがはく奪となれば、3位だった日本が繰り上がり銀メダル獲得になる。最終決定の行方に注目が集まる。

[moonshynecybin]

Why didn't he go for an actual vr46 rider,,,

[wanghedi]

almost all the news articles that come up when u look up pan zhanle is about how they think he cheated and how its too good to be true and how team china's wins "deserves all of your doubts" like western journalists KILL yourselves for real. how fucking racist is it to believe all white athletes are inherently good and morally pure and would not dope but athletes that they believe are naturally weaker (asian people) must be cheating to win and athletes that they believe are naturally stronger (black people) have an unfair disadvantage and should be disqualified. And the logic loop closes and only white people winning counts as winning based on merit

[pinkcaraz]

max’s case is more complicated than you think though. if you read the judgment, it mentions that he requested to hospital staff not to keep records of his infusion and even deleted messages to another player where they discussed getting the infusion and the fact that the amount was over the 100 ml limit, and about ways they could justify getting them (including by faking illness). you’ll realise it’s a lot more dodgy than it looks at surface level. he didn’t even self report like people thought he did, he was caught and was evidently trying to get around it.

ok well i will admit i didn't read all the details and obviously i'm not an expert so i probably should have been a little more careful about speaking on it. but tbh idrc that much about the details of the case bc at the end of the day idrc enough about doping in the sense that i think that it's just not that serious to me LOL. it doesn't seem to me that max was intentionally trying to enhance performance or game the system or whatever. the case doesn't explicitly say that there is sufficient evidence that he was hiding something, but i suppose that's what they suspected was happening, leading to a finding of significant fault or negligence so ok sure i guess that's fine. but bottom line to me is that i think 18 months for what he did on the facts is ridiculous and excessive and that a lot of the itia/wada rules in general are ridiculous and excessive 🤷‍♂️ god forbid a girl have hobbies like doing coke anyways be gay do drugs 🗣🗣🗣

[800lbs]

ok well i'm not going to get into it but mermaid man and barnacle boy as a romantic couple is probably one of the better ways to get the general public to understand brudick because making them both old as fuck means you can avoid thinking about the pederasty (to an extent)

[hopefromadoomedtimeline]

one day i should do a great ape event for trunks

[potatodemon-beesensible]

TO SPECIFY!!!!!! Video has spoilers for Kokichi’s character from Danganronpa V3 get warned :3

This… actually brings back memories. Relate a lot to Kokichi’s character. Main reason I’m so… okay. Honestly it’s just because other people picked me up and I didn’t take it for granted. Just… thinking back on some times. It’s interesting to me. Frankly in job stressful environments I feed off of other people’s reactions and hate feeling vulnerable.

DANGANRONPA V3 SPOILERS BE WARNED

Only difference is that before I did it recklessly and with no regard for my own well being. I had no care or respect for myself. Dignity sure, but not the other two things. I spiraled. When extra stressed I said some… iffy things. Meant to hurt others. When I saw Kokichi spiraling in the last parts of Danganronpa V3 I immediately spotted what was going on as it was just… so damn well written. Love that game. Among my favorite stories and endings of all time. I like to think I’m pretty perceptive. ^^

Frankly… now that I have people I wanna live for it’s scary. Before it didn’t matter what happened to me. World’s my playground. Could be homeless and still find basic joy in messing with people. Making a show. Jumpscaring some people with weirdly good and insightful life advice without being vulnerable to confuse them even more. Maybe find some likeminded people who want some harmless fun. Well… I’ve always been kind. Got upset and still get upset when some jerk is genuinely… gross. Or apathetic on important things. I don’t get people who don’t care. I keep myself sane sure but it’s never malicious or apathetic. Also hate spiteful people. Heh, that’s an ironic statement. “I hate spiteful people.” Funny. I just do it with a smile and energy. Only real difference. They just come off like grouches. And I put myself above them for that.

People in High School actually thought I was a psychopath. ^^”

Had that conversation once with a guy actually. Deadass just went “Y’know you’re a very sweet and wholesome person I honestly thought you might’ve been a serial killer” and that was the conversation.

I’m… very low energy and miserable when suppressing that side of myself for the sake of a healthy work environment. I relate to Jax a lot… so yea.

Point of all this. Nowadays I have like… genuine relationships with people and am emotionally vulnerable. When I do let that side of me out if I’m just *that* drained it’s never nearly as bad as it was before. At most I’ll just be annoying. Like… even before I never insulted people. I just got under their skin and let them know it was intentional. Only remember insulting people when I was in the 11th Grade. My mental state… was breaking for sure. No one wants to help the guy who well… comes off as me. And the worst part about it is that I can’t blame them and be narcissistic enough to believe it. Always looked down on narcissistic cucks who could pass on the blame no matter what… I at least had the decency to *know* I was in the wrong and that I was the only one to possibly blame. Then again. Aren’t I just looking down on narcissists out of the human need to blame others? To take it out on those who hurt you? It’s a whole thing.

There are times I’m not so glad to be alive. But I’m glad I’m here. Thanks dude.

[rolandkaros]

interested by aryna's response about iga's ban...

[cheemken]

Idk I just think this lil hc of mine is dope so hey why not draw it hahah

[bluespring864]

another case of 'was busy with work, surely nothing happened in the tennis world just now?'