#due to a lack of enrichment that allows them to live as they are

[savageboar]

"some theorize that humans ourselves are suffering from zoochosis"

[eldragon-x]

An attempt at a backstory/character analysis of Bill Cipher

I'm kinda into Gravity Falls again lately, Bill has been living in my head rent free for ages, and I've been thinking a lot about the extra-canonical content around him so I decided it'd be fun to speculate around that!

This post doesn't even include everything I originally wanted to talk about because it was already a long and very speculative mess, but I hope it's enjoyable regardless.

Also credits to this post by weirdmageddon here, this pile of information defenetly made my life easier.

Okay let’s just start with the Axolotl Poem from the book “Dipper and Mabel and the Time Pirates’ Treasure”:

For the purpose of this analysis I’ll be focusing on this part, since it’s easily the most interesting and revealing bit of the poem:

Saw his own dimension burn. Misses home and can’t return. Says he’s happy. He’s a liar. Blame the arson for the fire.

Bill’s birth-dimension and why it was destroyed

This is actually something that is referenced in the show! Bill describes his original dimension as dull, boring and restrictive. He claims that he freed it by destroying it and that he’s granting our known dimension a similar freedom through Weirdmageddon.

But we can dig deeper. In Journal 3, Ford wrote an entry about a dimension called Exwhylia which he encountered during his time in the multiverse. I'll add text under all references to J3 to make things easier to read.

(My quest to defeat Bill led me to a strange world that I mistakenly believed to be his birthplace. / “Above” being a direction they know nothing about and does not exist.

A. an upper-class circle B. a lowly triangle C. a building off in the distance D. a leaf 5 inches from your face I believe Bill came from a similar world that was mysteriously destroyed. But how?)

On top of that, back in 2015, Alex Hirsch hosted a Reddit AMA where he would answer questions as Bill which gives us another piece of information:

Edwin Abbott Abbott is the author of the novella “Flatland” which was published in 1884. I’m going to hold myself back from rambling about this book because this is a post about the funny Mr. Peanut Triangle and not Flatland, we just need some bits of it for this post.

Flatland is about a two-dimensional world of the same name which is inhabited by people who are simple shapes. The amount of sides a resident in Flatland has determines their social class. The more sides, the higher up the ladder.

Due to its two-dimensionality, Flatland’s inhabitants normally can’t comprehend up or down, yet some have discovered three-dimensionality. But it’s such a taboo in their world that anyone who knows of it is locked away at best and killed at worst. The upper-class circles are the only ones allowed to know about it without consequences and withhold this information.

Similarly, though by far not as forbidden, are colors. Color isn’t naturally-occuring in Flatland but it can be created and used to be a whole thing until its use was banned and limited to those more privileged.

At one point, the protagonist himself describes Flatland as dull in relation to the lack of color.

While the two pages about Exwhylia obviously can’t give as much insight as Flatland, both have a few differences, and it’s kept vague exactly how similar Bill’s dimension was to either of these worlds (“came from a similar world”, “has a decent idea”), we can get a pretty good picture of it based on these pieces.

A small, strict, dull world where the higher-ups keep away anything that could provide enrichment or a wider perspective from the general public.

I’m sure many people would hate that. I’m sure someone like Bill (who, as an equilateral triangle, would’ve been part of the middle class and no way in hell easy access to color or 3D knowledge) would especially hate that.

-

I think there’s more to this though. Let’s talk about Bill’s powers.

We know little to nothing about when or how he received them, but the Axolotl Poem implies it was before he destroyed his dimension as he’d need outstanding abilities in order to burn a whole dimension down while also not getting himself killed in the process.

Here we see Bill talk about his newly-gained and expanded powers with the occurrence of Weirdmageddon. Seeing that this leads into his dialogue about his old home dimension (shown earlier in this section), the line “I wasn’t always this way” suggests he wasn’t just born with his power or anything like that.

The way he compares this to his new powers could mean he might’ve even started out with relatively little power that just grew after he left his dimension. For all we know he could’ve burned it down while only possessing the necessary abilities to burn things in large scale and escape his dimension, having learned of higher dimensions through other means and gaining omniscience at a later point.

Still, this isn't my main argument for Bill’s choice to destroy his world being a gradual process that involved several factors. His family is.

-

We don’t have much information about Bill’s family. The best there is is this bit from Journal 3,

(Apparently, his thirst for power caused him to destroy his home dimension - including his parents)

possibly this bit from Sock Opera? Partially because Bill kinda projects onto Mabel but more on that later.

and this statement by Hirsch from the NYCC 2015:

Q: “I was thinking if Bill has a brother, or is he working with someone?” A: “If you think Grunkle Stan’s relationship with his family is bad, Bill’s is worse.”

Now you can read a lot into this especially with the comparison to Stan and the question being about a potential brother of Bill’s.

Stan was kicked out by his parents, never saw them again, and had a lot of conflict with his brother (which gets resolved by the end of the show). Does this mean Bill had bad parents and conflict with a sibling, especially considering Sock Opera? Maybe!

But I definitely consider it likely that this comparison really serves to further establish Stan and Bill as foil characters with parallels. I won’t go into it here but here’s a great post about it!

But let’s finally get to the point. Bill has a bad relationship with his family and the Oracle mentions his parents in relation to him destroying his dimension. You know what this makes me think of? This statement by Hirsch from an interview:

I know it says here “over thousands of years” and the examples used are probably very childish because a kid asked the question but I can’t help but think this reflects Bill’s attitude even in his earlier life. He doesn’t always get his way, he holds onto this pettiness, it festers the poor relationship with his parents, at some point he learns of an unrestricted world that has been withheld from him, he gets wildly destructive powers and next thing you know the multiverse is doomed.

The Nightmare Realm and Escapism

So, Bill sees a lot of himself in Mabel and projects onto her. It’s very outright in Bill’s page in “Dipper’s and Mabel’s Guide to Mystery and Nonstop Fun”:

As well as in the DVD Commentary of Sock Opera:

“Bill genuinely believes that Mabel’s kinda like him. He sees Mabel as a chaos agent. Like, Mabel has got a little bit of a seed of anarchy in her, she’s a little bit selfish, she likes to have fun at whatever cost. And Bill is all those things times a billion. So he thinks when he lays it all out for her like: ‘How about instead of being lame, you do something fun! And crush whoever you want in the process!’. He thinks that’s gonna go over. And he’s not wrong in seeing that side in Mabel but Mabel is a better person than Bill Cipher.”

And when you look at how Bill thinks Mabel is like him, how the poem mentions him - a fun and delightful character - lying about being happy, and how he hates rules and holds these little grudges while Mabel learns to face difficulties despite wanting to hide from them, and learns to grow up and move on… it paints an interesting picture.

This post comparing Mabel Land and the Nightmare Realm is kinda similar to what I imagine, but let me make my own case.

(...my old “Muse” is actually one of the most feared beings in the entire multiverse. Bill took over the Nightmare Realm as a hideout for him and his cronies, but because this place is lawless, without any consistent physics or rules, it is eventually fated to self-destruct. This is why Bill seeks a new, more stable dimension to take over and a foolish mind willing to let him in.

Bill’s universe is not exactly a dimension, but rather a boiling, shifting intergalactic foam between dimensions - a lawless, unstable crawl space between worlds that only the strangest and most unknowable beings call home.)

So, at some point after destroying his original home dimension Bill got some buddies and they willingly entered this foam dimension and took over it. The Journal also mentions that the realm acts as a gateway to other worlds and has wormholes that lead to other dimensions. And we know there’s ways not just in but also out of the Nightmare Realm because Ford left it through a wormhole and the Lost Legends comic book has an alien truck driver who helps Stan and Ford get around the multiverse from the Nightmare Realm.

But something’s weird because in Weirdmageddon, Bill says that he’s been trapped in the Nightmare Realm, despite all this.

And it definitely gives him restrictions since before Weirdmageddon, there was no connection between the realm and our known dimension and Bill could only interact with our dimension through the Mindscape. But in theory he should still be able to go to other worlds unless he specifically is genuinely trapped there. But we get no indication of how or why that would be, and why would he willingly enter a space that would trap him in the first place?

Y’know, maybe these restrictions are exactly what makes him feel like he’s “trapped”. Because there still are limitations. But I also think Bill just doesn’t want to leave the Nightmare Realm (behind).

Think about it, Bill made the realm his home after destroying the 2nd dimension. Maybe at this point there was already a lingering regret. But he finds this lawless realm of endless possibilities where he can party forever which is like the antithesis of his old home at just the right time. It’s everything he could want! Maybe destroying his home was all worth it and he never has to think about it again!

So yeah, Bill could theoretically leave the Nightmare Realm to avoid being caught in its decay. But why would he? What other dimension could possibly satisfy him and offer more? Instead he looks for a dimension to merge with the Nightmare Realm so it can keep existing. And hey, he’d kinda be helping the people in that dimension by doing this because maybe they’d realize how limited their existence is just like he once did! Tho it's uh. questionable how much he cares about that part.

I mean he goes so far to risk tearing down all of existence alongside the realm and himself just for the chance to keep it around. 

Anyway the fact that he found this dimension that offered him everything he always wanted at just the right time inspired him to create Mabel Land

But unlike Bill who tried to keep the Nightmare Realm stable no matter what, Mabel leaves Mabel Land and is the one to destroy it because she has accepted that she’ll face hardships, unlike Bill who continues to look for distractions from his problems.

Also this is unrelated to the whole escapism thing but I really want to mention in this section that another reason Bill wants to cause Weirdmageddon is likely not just to keep the Nightmare Realm going, but also simply because it juiced up his powers. Y'know considering the Oralce said Bill destroyed his dimension out of a thirst for power and he wants more power because something something breaking limitations. I know this is obvious stuff but I feel the need to keep this post somehow grounded on solid canon, especially with what I'm about to make up.

Nihilism

Okay I’m going to wildly speculate here and probably look at Bill’s mindset through a more human lens than intended but just bear with me for a moment. I think at some point Bill grew nihilistic as a way to distance himself from his unhappiness and further avoid dealing with it.

What mainly kicked off this train of thought was this here from the AMA.

On the surface this just reads as Bill being a god who is above the concept of reality as we know it and understands things differently ect. ect. but with the context of “Says he’s happy. He’s a liar.” it’s like… that tells something about him.

There’s also these pieces from the AMA which give the impression of Bill being above mortals and the concept of love and whatever but from a human lens I’m just seeing some miserable guy going “love isn’t real and life has no meaningful purpose”.

Also something about him in the show saying things like “reality is an illusion” and “meaning has no meaning”.

Now don’t get me wrong, I think a lot of this is just straight up Bill being a chaos God who has an abstract perspective on things. God knows he genuinely sees himself above mortals.

But I just think it’s interesting to think about this in the context of there being something underlying here. Or maybe I’m just lost in the sauce of overanalyzing Bill Cipher’s mysterious backstory and psyche hell if I know.

-

Footnote about the whole escapism and denial thing: I feel like you can vaguely draw a parallel with McGucket here. He tried to just forget about everything but ultimately finds closure by rediscovering and coming to terms with his past and all.

Control

Just something interesting that occurred to me while writing this whole thing. It was kinda odd to me that Bill “took over” the lawless Nightmare Realm and is even described as “The King of Nightmares” by Ford in Journal 3. Bill also tells the residents of Gravity Falls that they can call him their “new Lord and Master” as he tries to turn the dimension into a world without rules with Weirdmageddon. 

And it’s also weird how, despite how terrible the 2nd Dimension was and how much it clashes with someone like him, he still misses it after all this time.

I just think there seems to be an irony about Bill being a chaos god who finds comfort and kinship in the strange, unusual and incomprehensible while at the same time desiring control and craving familiarity.

Conclusion/Summary

Bill grew up with restrictions in his life, be it little things within his personal relationships or on a greater scale within society and the universe as a whole. Once he had the chance to escape these restrictions, he did so by burning down his home dimension and everyone in it but ended up living with regret over this. He made the Nightmare Realm his own home because it offered both the freedom he wanted and the distractions he sought from his unhappiness. The Nightmare Realm was dying but instead of leaving it, Bill was dedicated to merging it with a more stable dimension. Mainly to keep it existing and push the limitations of his own power, but also hoping that other beings would realize just how small their world was.

Additionally, Bill’s perceived superiority over mortals and indifference towards a lot of things might’ve possibly started out as a nihilistic mindset that he adopted to disconnect himself from his regrets. And despite the chaos about him, he wants to have control and yearns for familiarity. 

-

I think I just want to close this post by saying it’s fascinating how such a delightfully cruel villain lives such a miserable and bleak existence. I’m going to tattoo the Axolotl Poem onto my brain.

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

Welcome to Rapture: Chapter 10

Silent Stage Count: 11684 TW/CW: Violence, blood, gore, death, related disturbing imagery

The shutters at every entrance to Fort Frolic, the ones that had kept Syrus trapped in the entertainment center for the last three days, were open. No Plasters guarded them and no Splicers were seen the entire time he and Atlas walked from Fleet Hall. Compared to the lively show out in the main square mere hours ago, the entire district was a ghost town.

Syrus was concerned about where so many insane people could hide, hoping Cohen was a man of his word and that there wasn’t an ambush waiting around a corner. It didn’t help that he was practically being led around by Atlas, who had offered to lead him out due to years of experience in Rapture that allowed the human to practically memorize the whole place supposedly. He had several questions for the human, but decided that they could wait until both of them had reached a safe place.

He had to make the conscious decision of keeping Atlas on his wounded side, still barely able to see or hear from the right side of his head. Hell, his left ear felt slightly muffled, a tinny constant whine faintly sounding. All healing had gone to a near stand-still now that his blood stomach was once more empty and he had to ignore the craving for something iron-enriched.

Something about Atlas still threw him off. He just wasn’t sure what. Maybe the human was an actual threat or maybe his instincts had gone haywire after so much time down in the halls. Still, he was less of a threat than other Splicers or Plasters for the time being, deciding that he’d rather allow Atlas on his injured side than risk either of them being jumped because of his inability to properly register anything from his right.

Eventually, Atlas ducked between an alleyway between two buildings and led Syrus out the other side where he recognized the large hall entrance to the Rapture Metro he’d come in with. Walking down for another minute, the sight of the flickering bathysphere station came into view as they walked in.

“Alright,” Atlas breathed a sigh of relief once both men had walked across the threshold into the Bathysphere Metro. After several minutes of silence between Fleet Hall and here, the human’s quiet remark felt loud to Syrus’ working ear. He turned towards Syrus and added, “I’m sure ya have a lot of questions, boyo, and they’ll all be answered in time. With Cohen’s deal still in effect and no Splicer wantin’ to tangle with him, this is probably the safest place to rest that we’ll find for a while. So, go ahead and ask a couple. Quick ones.”

Syrus watched the human walk over to one of the nearby benches against a broken pillar, resting his back against the degraded surface as he looked back with an expectant look for inevitable questions.

“Where do you plan to go,” Syrus asked, not beating around the bush. His depth perception was off, but he could see clearly that it was a question Atlas had been expecting given the lack of reaction. “Now that you’re not being held captive?”

“I’m gonna do the same thing I’ve been doing since the fall of Rapture, boyo. Try to survive until tomorrow,” Atlas replied tiredly, shifting so that he was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, hands relaxed and gaze still on Syrus. “That’s all ya can do down here.”

“Surely, there has to be some kind of way out of here,” Syrus frowned. After all the fighting he just went through, he could feel frustration begin to surface. Rabbit was here for a long time, and Atlas even longer. Hell, the guy had been the leader of some revolution. That had to require being able to know the layout of everything enough to get the fuck out of this metallic hell.

“Aye,” the response from Atlas surprised Syrus, summoning a glimmer of hope before immediately snuffing it out as he continued. “The way ya came down in the lighthouse. That, or you can test your luck with the water pressure by trying to swim out of one of the bathysphere stations or fisheries and brave the several miles to the surface.”

Atlas’ response was a fairly sensible one given all that was learned, but that didn’t stop the disappointment and frustration that hit Syrus and made him growl. The human was unfazed, merely giving him a glance as he glared at him, insistent on an escape. “There has to be another way in and out. There’s too many Splicers down here to not be coming from somewhere if all anyone does down here is kill each other.”

“Syrus, we had a whole Little Sister program,” Atlas replied, sitting up from his somewhat folded position to look Syrus more squarely in the face. “You know, those little girls you see running around? Granted, I don’t know how there’s still more. We age far slower than other people with the ADAM in our systems, but we still age. Children, it’s faster because of their metabolism. When the Sisters grew, Ryan sent them topside to kidnap more girls to manipulate and keep ADAM in production. I don’t think there’s been any Big Sisters in commission for decades, but who knows how many children he forced down here to crawl in the walls.

“Probably of age now, adding to the population. I’ve never seen a Little Brother, but I wouldn’t put it past Ryan to be indiscriminate with kidnapping,” the human scrubbed a tired hand over his face, taking care to place his hand on the less bruised side of his face, and leaned back to rest his head against the column while turning his gaze to the ceiling.

Syrus thought that didn’t quite make sense. Little Sisters that were still very much little wandered around the halls, something that wouldn’t be happening if, to his understanding, the Splicers were continuing to somehow follow the cycle. But, given that they all craved ADAM, maybe they understood the necessity of the Little Sister program to get their fix? Whatever the case, he decided to file the information for now, too tired from fighting to delve into Rapture mechanisms that he knew next to nothing about other than what he’d been told.

“And, what about Rabbit,” he asked tiredly, glancing towards the exit of Rapture Metro back towards Fort Frolic, trying to gauge Atlas’ reaction from his healthy peripheral.

“What about her, boyo,” Atlas frowned in confusion, glancing at Syrus from his leaned back position. “We lost her when we locked her from the Arcadia bathysphere station.”

“I’m certain Canary had been Rabbit,” Syrus stated, seeing Atlas’ frown deepen and paused to allow the human to respond if he wanted. Atlas did.

“Syrus, I’m pretty sure Canary wasn’t Rabbit,” the human shifted once more so that he was no longer leaning on the column. “We locked her in the Arcadia halls and the only other way to Fort Frolic is through the marketplace. Which, by the way, still has one of the densest Splicer populations in Rapture. Look, Rabbit doesn’t leave Arcadia much anyways, save for looking at new saps that get trapped by the buggy lighthouse bathyspheres. We caught her in a tantrum because she doesn’t like me, but I’m sure she’s crawled back into the vents or wherever she goes. ‘Sides, what even makes you think that it was Rabbit?”

Syrus opted to not say that he could taste the difference in blood, instead replying, “When the mask fell off, I got a look of their face. It looked like Rabbit, just in a different outfit.”

Atlas just stared at him for a second before letting out a long, drawn out sigh. The human pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was about to explain something to a child, opening them to look up at Syrus as the Chupacabra turned to face him with crossed arms.

“Alright, boyo, I’ll play Devil’s Advocate for you,” the human moved forward, once more leaning his elbows on his knees, hand moving while he spoke. “IF that was Rabbit, why the costume change? Why didn’t she use her electric abilities that she’s prone to use? Why work with one of the two nutcases down here that she hates, for good reason, in a near-suicidal play? Where did she get the telekinesis? With all these questions, why would you think it’s her? Was it because she didn’t sing for any ADAM when you fought? Cause Cohen’s other Houdini’s didn’t either. They sing when he tells 'em to sing.

“Syrus. You had three good, long, and intense fights. Hell, half of your face and an ear are still practically gone from an explosion,” Atlas exclaimed, gesturing to Syrus’ face. He hadn’t seen the way his face looked yet, but he imagined it looked somewhat similar to when people get third degree burns, particularly feeling the tightness of his skin around the jaw. The human glanced him over in concern. “I don’t know why you want it to have been Rabbit, boyo, but are you sure it’s not the blood loss talking, or the concussive blast messing with your head? Perhaps I’m not the only one in need of rest…”

Syrus was a bit taken aback by the human’s supposed concern, having not really thought about his state. It didn’t affect his taste much, save for the right side that got damaged, but now that it was brought to his attention the adrenaline from before was gone, leaving him with creeping exhaustion while his blood stomach craved being filled to heal the wounds he had. Without blood, it would take days to regain full use of his right eye and ear, and even longer for the muscle and skin to heal, though it’d leave scarring. Even with a full stomach of blood, the wounding was enough that he’d almost definitely still have scars, they’d just be lessened with accelerated healing.

If he had suffered concussive damage, it must have healed quickly. His body would have prioritized that first since the brain is a rather important organ. He was tired and probably did have some blood loss, but his mind was fairly clear and he knew on a visceral level that the blood he’d tasted had been from Rabbit. But, maybe he was just too used to the chemicals in most Splicers blood. Part of him wondered what Atlas’ blood tasted like.

“Atlas, I’m certain of what I saw,” Syrus frowned, mulling over Atlas’ questions and finding he didn’t have an answer to any of them. “I don’t know why Rabbit wouldn’t use electricity, but they looked mortified in Cohen’s arms.”

Granted, maybe they were more mortified at him since he’d nearly killed them. Again. But the sheer hatred in their eyes when they looked at Atlas felt out of place if this was a random Splicer under Cohen’s employ. After a couple seconds, he suggested, “Maybe Cohen is blackmailing them? Or threatening them somehow?”

“Threatening them with something worse than the play?”

Syrus didn’t have an answer. Both men stood in silence for a few heartbeats, Atlas looking less than amused while Syrus could feel his lack of knowledge agitating his frustration further.

Atlas let out a long exhale through his nose, grabbing Syrus’ attention as the human seemed to age at his insistent questioning.

“Even if that was Rabbit, even if they were-were somehow coerced or blackmailed into throwing herself into the wolves den of a play, how do you propose we help her,” Atlas asked, blue eyes glinting under the flickering lights briefly as he looked up at Syrus. “I don’t know if you quite remember, Syrus, but she kind of hates me. I’m fairly certain that she’ll try to kill me the first chance she gets. Unless you have a plan to stop her before that happens, I’m all ears for that.”

“If Rabbit tries to attack you, I’ll just paralyze them,” Syrus replied.

“I- You can paralyze people,” Atlas asked, face shifting to both concern and intrigue.

“I can. It minimizes risk from large prey,” Syrus stated matter-of-factly. There was no point beating around the bush, the human had already seen his more animal-like form. He saw the gears turning in the other man’s head, though he didn’t know if they were good or bad.

“Okay,” Atlas shook his head as though to clear it from whatever train of thought he’d been about to go on. “If it was Rabbit, if she was forced into it, and you paralyze her, how are we going to get her out in the first place? Why do you even care so much? We can’t just waltz back in, Cohen basically threatened us to stay outta his turf. And if we do sneak in, how are we getting out with a drugged person without being caught?”

Now Atlas was asking the right questions about moving forward. The biggest catch was that Syrus still didn’t have answers. If he wasn’t stuck underwater, he’d be tempted to cut his losses and simply work with Atlas. Then again, if he wasn’t underwater, he would have just slammed into one of the glass walls until it broke and escaped a long time ago. Out of the four not completely fucked up humans he’d interacted with, only two were viable allies. If he could get the two humans to work together, then not only would they all have an advantage in number compared to if they were on their own against the Splicers, maybe they’d have a better chance of figuring a way out of here.

Not to mention, he still had an odd feeling about Atlas. Another mostly sane human for insurance on getting out would help.

“I don’t know yet,” Syrus admitted, even if he loathed to do so. He hated the uncertainty that being in Rapture brought and the fact that he was becoming used to it. “But, if you don’t know an immediate way out of here, I don’t see any reason to not at least try to make sure it wasn’t Rabbit. Death seems to lurk around every corner in here, so we wouldn’t be expediting it much.”

“I- wha- are you suicidal, boyo,” Atlas exclaimed in alarm, rising to his feet. He gestured sharply to the direction of Fort Frolic. “We can’t just go charging back into there, with you on your high horse, so that you can just confirm or deny what sounds like a hunch! If we go back in there, Cohen will close the flood doors again and we might as well kiss our arses goodbye right now, ‘cause there’s no chance of making it out alive again, boyo!”

Syrus had to resist the urge to narrow his eyes at the panicked human. The human that was, arguably, making very valid points. After all, who in their right mind would go right back into the same place they’d just escaped death from? Maybe Rapture was already affecting his thinking. Either way, he decided to stand his ground.

“You’re free from Cohen, and you’re welcome to stay here or do what you want, but I’m going back,” he said, watching Atlas. “I’m certainly not going to make you go, as long as you don’t get in my way.”

Atlas gaped at him in surprise, frowning and closing his mouth as he seemed to mull over Syrus’ words. He let him. Part of him wanted the human to stay behind, not wanting to trust too easily and let his guard down much around either.

The human seemed to struggle with something internally, eventually grumbling and replying, “I... can’t, in good conscience, just let you go back alone.

“Understand,” Atlas shakily ran a hand through his raven locks, mussing his hair up further than it already was from his captivity. “I don’t want to go back. At all. But, you saved me, so I can’t not help you. Think of it as a favor for a favor, quid pro quo and all that.”

“Alright,” Syrus tried to ignore his disappointment at hearing the man wanted to go with him, thinking that maybe more time would give him insight to why Atlas gave him a bad feeling.

“Before you go jumping back into Fort Frolic, though,” Atlas quickly said before Syrus could say anything else, gazing turning stern. “We need rest. I wasn’t given much food or water under Cohen’s watch and earned some bruises, while you… well, boyo, not to be harsh, but if I saw you before all this time in Rapture, I’d think you were the Devil coming for our hubris. I don’t know the extent of your healing, but stretching yourself thin isn’t going to get Rabbit, if it is her, away any sooner.”

Syrus didn’t want to rest, but his body thought otherwise, able to feel exhaustion begin to weigh down his limbs. Reluctantly, he nodded and added, “We should find ourselves something to eat before we rest, but I can accept that.”

Atlas seemed satisfied with his answer and both men soon found themselves searching the large Rapture Metro for some form of nourishment. Like the entirety of his stay down here, it was found in the form of stale chips and old granola bars that they both shared between themselves. There wasn’t much conversation as they ate, Syrus ignoring the way his blood stomach felt like it twisted in his chest and the way his teeth felt like they’d extended ever so slightly in anticipation of fresh blood. But, he’d have to wait to slake his thirst.

After eating, both Atlas and Syrus picked a bench to sleep on. Again, there wasn’t much conversation, both beginning to feel the weight of the day. At least, Syrus was. He could only speak for himself after all, but he noticed that Atlas’ movements were becoming rather slow and sparse as time went on.

The human was the first one to fall asleep, leaving Syrus laying on his bench alone with his thoughts and looking at the ceiling. The bench was uncomfortable, but he was getting used to sleeping on rough surfaces at this point. What was keeping him up was the fact that he almost died today and still felt no closer to getting the hell out of here.

That and the fact that he was constantly risking his own life for humans in the hope it would lead him closer to that goal. He wasn’t sure if it’d work, but he supposed it was better to die trying to get out of this place than lay down and resign himself to the cold halls.

He inhaled tiredly and let out a long exhale, waving his hand in front of face to test his right eye. It wasn’t much clearer than before, if at all, needing to rely on movement and change of light when he closed his left eye, and his hand was simply a large indiscernible blob darker than the light from above. His right ear was unnervingly silent despite being able to easily hear the water lapping at metal from the bathysphere docks with his left despite the tinny whine. If he turned his head just right, he could barely hear Atlas’ breathing from the other bench.

Eventually, he was able to turn onto his right side, careful of the injuries, and managed to push aside the uncertainty and thoughts enough to fall asleep. It was dreamless, the kind of dark sleep that happens when the body’s too tired to dream or to remember them. Maybe there was a vague inkling of one or two dreams, but they vanished as quickly as they came.

Syrus woke when he registered a slight sound, feeling goosebumps at a presence far too close for his comfort, bolting upright and grabbing the wrist of the other person before they could touch him with their outstretched hand.

Atlas was caught off guard, his bruising distorting as his face contorted in surprise. He seemed to temper his concern, though he tried to twist his arm out of the other man’s grip, saying, “Relax, boyo, I was just moving to wake you. I heard something down the hall towards Fort Frolic and didn’t want either of us to be caught off guard – could you release my wrist, Syrus, you’re about to snap it!”

“Right. Sorry,” Syrus released his unintentional, almost bone-crushing hold on Atlas. To the human’s credit, he hadn’t panicked despite his obvious alarm at the Chupacabra’s reaction to the surprise awakening.

Syrus’ groggy mind quickly woke, though he still felt exhausted. Without any way to gauge time down here it could have been minutes or hours. Either way his body craved more sleep, but now that he was awake and told of some noise, his body already worked on trying to pinpoint whatever it was as he tilted the left side of his head towards the hall that Atlas had mentioned.

He didn’t know if it was the same noise, but he heard very faint crying in the direction of Fort Frolic when he did so. Too faint for Atlas to have heard, so whatever the human heard may have precluded the crying he heard now, informing Atlas, “I hear crying. What did you hear?”

“Not sure what I heard. Can ya tell if it’s a child or adult, boyo,” Atlas asked, brow furrowing in thought. His fingers twitched as though wanting to reach for a weapon that wasn’t there. “I’m game to help a Little Sister, but I’d rather not run into any other Splicers unless we have to.”

“No,” Syrus replied, standing up. Several vertebrae and joints popped from sleeping on the bench, and some soreness had set into his muscles. He walked over to a nearby pile of debris and easily moved the broken chunks of metal and concrete until he came across a bent metal rod. It wasn’t much, but it was sturdy and it’d have to do, so he stood up and walked to Atlas to offer it. “Crying is crying. But we should probably still investigate to make sure the danger doesn’t reach here.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Atlas frowned as he took the offered metal rod in his hands and tested the weight a bit. “You lead the way though, boyo, I can’t hear what you hear.”

Syrus nodded, tilting his head so that his left ear was pointed more toward the crying as he began to walk down the hall it came from. Fort Frolic’s hall. In his peripherals, he saw Atlas falter with an unreadable expression, but the human continued before he could question it. The hall to Fort Frolic was pretty straightforward with barely any branching points but both of them still kept an eye out. Atlas fell in step on Syrus’s left side, something he had to resist the urge to growl at since his right side still wasn’t healed, and it made him feel vulnerable to have that side ‘exposed’ in a way. Still, Atlas should be able to see if something happened on his right given the lack of hiding spots.

The closer they got to the crying, taking one of the few smaller halls to follow the noise, the louder it became. Not only that, but he heard a few other faint noises in the distance that he felt like weren’t there before when they had left. The crying led both of them to one of the brass vents embedded in the wall.

“A Little Sister,” Atlas frowned for an unknown reason until he elaborated a moment after, “They usually don’t cry ‘cause of the cotton-candy way they perceive things unless their Big Daddy is dead. But, if that’s the case… they also usually mourn beside the body until an unattached Big Daddy lumbers around or…”

“Well, either way, I don’t see or hear it anywhere in the hall nearby,” Syrus commented. He definitely would have heard if there was a Big Daddy around, the lumbering steps enough to rattle the metal of entire hallways if they were short enough. He’d also only seen the normal carnage and debris that littered Rapture, nothing that seemed fresh or large enough to have been caused by a Big Daddy.

“Yes… it’s not normal,” the human looked perturbed before raising a hand. He rapped a knuckle on the brass edge loudly, startling Syrus.

“What are you doing,” the Chupacabra practically hissed, thinking that the human was very lucky that there didn’t seem to be Splicers nearby, otherwise they would have seen it as a dinner bell.

“If the Little Sister pokes her head out, maybe she’ll answer what happened to her Big Daddy and any other questions.”

Syrus scowled, but it was too late to stop the human from causing the noise. Besides, there were sounds in the vent of something moving to focus on now, the noise amplified and echoed by the metal walls of the vent. They escalated until a little girl with the familiarly glowing yellow eyes popped out and looked out hopefully, only to almost immediately look upset and duck back down.

“You’re not Sunflower,” the child wailed, distorted voice echoing on the brass and solidifying how lucky it was that Splicers weren’t nearby to hear it.

“No, but we’re still here to help,” Atlas replied softly, giving the girl a small smile to try and be reassuring. “We can try to find Sunflower, if you’d like.”

There was a second or two of silence before the girl poked her head back up and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling, “You’ll help? Usually only Bunny helps…”

“Yes, we can try. But, you need to tell us what happened, okay,” Atlas coaxed gently.

Syrus watched the Little Sister regard them both. Not with suspicion, he had a feeling that something had been done to make them complacent with the underwater hell they resided in, but rather with thought as she seemed to try and think of where to start.

“Okay,” the girl sniffed again, looking satisfied at whatever she was thinking of. “S-Sunflower and I wanted to see if there were any-any Angels in the fun district, but it’s been closed for a few days. But! I-It opened up earlier, and we went to go look for Angels. I didn’t see any in the streets or stores, and the shoppers don’t usually bother us. There weren’t any shoppers, but I've seen them go in and out of the theatre and wanted to see if there were any plays happening… Wh-When we walked in though, some statues fell on Sunflower and hurt him. I wanted to stay and help Sunflower, but I ran away because more statues started falling and I was blocked off from Sunflower. One of the statues almost fell on me.”

Syrus frowned in confusion, but Atlas just listened intently, nodding along to what the girl was saying. He couldn’t help but still be unnerved by the glowing eyes of the girl, realizing after a second that she actually did have pupils, they were just a shade or two lighter than the all-encompassing iris and looked blurred.

“We’ll go check on Sunflower for you, okay lass,” Atlas said questioningly, giving the Little Sister a reassuring smile that seemed to help relax her.

“Thank you, poster man,” the girl perked up and smiled back. “A-And tell Sunflower to come to our favorite place so he can find me.”

The interaction ended with an assuring “Will do” and farewell wave from Atlas that was reciprocated before he walked off. Towards Fort Frolic.

Syrus didn’t hesitate to follow after, though now he had several questions swirling in his head. But, before he could even think about figuring out which one to say aloud first, he heard Atlas murmur to himself.

“Cohen doesn’t usually touch the Little Sisters or the Big Daddies…”

“What about the Big Daddies in the performance,” Syrus asked, grimacing at the memory. He could see why someone wouldn’t want to mess with them, given their strength and capability, but he wouldn’t be surprised if someone did given the general mental state down here. And, thinking on it, there had been a freshly killed Big Daddy near Rabbit when he’d found them injured among the floor of corpses that might have caused at least a couple of them.

“Key word is ‘usually’, boyo,” Atlas stopped, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he turned to Syrus. “He had mentioned that he just wanted them for the latest performance in his mutterings and monologues. He knows Little Sisters are what collect the ADAM from decaying bodies that eventually trickles to him somehow.”

“How does it even get to him?” Syrus stopped beside the human.

“I tend to think of it as a weird beehive, though without a Queen,” Atlas sighed thoughtfully. “The Little Sisters are the workers that collect ADAM from dead bodies and whatever else they’re supposed to, but they also make it with the slugs in their stomachs. I don’t quite know what happens with the collected ADAM, Ryan kept the inner machinations of his system under lock and key to the grave, but I know that the girls had to have the ADAM collected otherwise the ADAM would become too much even for them. All I know is that Cohen gets enough to have the entirety of Fort Frolic wrapped around his finger. He doesn’t attack Little Sisters on the reg, Syrus.” Atlas huffed, confused, and turned to continue walking in the same direction as before.

Syrus trailed just behind, keeping the human on his right side so that he could keep his good eye looking for danger and commented, “I thought you didn’t want to go back to Fort Frolic.”

Atlas was quiet for a few seconds, pace slowing as he seemed to think before he eventually glanced at him and replied, “Trust me, boyo, I’m loath to do it. But… something feels off. And that concerns me.”

“More off than the other homicidal humans,” Syrus asked rhetorically, though the human’s words stuck with him. If Cohen seemed to have a pattern of behavior and disposition, he wasn’t sure what the cause would be to change that. “Maybe it was my presence? Or someone else new came down?”

“Cohen doesn’t care about newcomers unless they manage to stumble all the way into his district. Sees them as a waste of time otherwise, and an excellent performance opportunity if they make it to his doors. You’re one of the few to make it this far, and one of the first to survive one of his ‘auditions’,” Atlas said.

“Has Rabbit ever been caught by Cohen?”

“Unless your Canary ends up somehow being Rabbit, she’d never been subjected to Cohen’s stage plays. And, until the other day, I’d never been caught either.”

“What about the bathyspheres,” Syrus tilted his head in confusion, trying to read the other man’s expression from his left eye. Difficult when he was keeping the human on his right. “Why does the lighthouse apparently just get a bathysphere occasionally? Is it just the same one each time, because then you could just… wait long enough, right?”

He watched Atlas falter at his line of questioning, turning his head to look at the man when he looked towards Syrus.

“I’ve… never really thought about it that much, boyo,” Atlas replied, shrugging with a perturbed expression before continuing to walk down the hall. “I just know that however the lighthouse system works, it’s not the same bathysphere. It’s dangerous to linger around the lighthouse area with Spiders and Splicers ready to tear into any newcomers, and they’ve torn into the metal casings with the help of ADAM and EVE to get to whoever thinks hiding in a bathysphere is a good idea. I used to occasionally risk going to the lighthouse bathysphere dock whenever the Splicers got riled up about a newcomer… sometimes it looked like the bathysphere was torn apart like a tin can.”

An uncomfortable silence fell, and Syrus did nothing to break it. He didn’t think he’d been here more than a few weeks and already felt stir-crazy, his mind starting to go in circles of frustration from both Rabbit and Atlas being near dead-end avenues for escape. He didn’t know how Atlas seemed to be so unphased while also maintaining his sanity.

Several minutes passed as the duo walked back the worn halls towards Fort Frolic again. It was relatively like when they’d left, but Syrus could hear things faintly echo from the district, indiscernible to him and likely nonexistent to his human companion. The shutters were still open as they approached with no sign of Plasters, but there was something just within the threshold that wasn’t there before, something that didn’t move and caused nothing more than caution until they were close enough for him to see what it was.

A mangled Splicer corpse was sprawled in a pool of blood, bloodied footprints on the floor and debris around the body.

“What the hell,” Atlas’s voice came out in a shocked whisper, sounding gruff after the minutes of silence.

Both men stopped to take in the gory sight, Atlas surprisingly more affected by the sight than Syrus, something that surprised the Chupacabra. After a few seconds, he moved a few feet closer cautiously to get a better look, almost snarling at Atlas when the human grabbed his right elbow with his blurry vision. His head whipped to face the other man, eyes narrowing.

“Be careful, boyo,” Atlas hissed, seeming to bite back a comment as he glanced at the body before continuing, “This is abnormal to Hell and back. Cohen forbids his Splicers to attack or fight off show unless they want to be one of his Butterflies, and everyone else in Rapture knows they’ll be captured for an unforgiving spotlight if they wander in. No one’s just killed in the streets without Cohen knowing, and not without him punishing them. Something is wrong.”

The urgency in Atlas’ voice surprised Syrus, but he nodded as he pulled his arm from the other man’s grasp, quietly replying, “We need to know as much of what happened if we can.”

Technically, they could both go the rest of their lives without knowing what happened to this Splicer, turn tail and continue hiding for the rest of their lives like Atlas probably has to survive. But, any knowledge on the change of behavior in the Splicers nearby could be a deciding factor on how long the rest of their lives were. This could either be affecting a portion of the Splicers, or every single one in the vicinity.

Atlas nodded though, reluctantly trailing behind Syrus as he got closer to investigate the murder scene.

The body of the Splicer was difficult to discern past the coating of blood soaking it and the floor, sticking to the soles of his shoes. With fancy attire torn and stained, accessories disheveled similarly, it looked like one of Cohen’s performance Splicers. Or one similar given that Syrus had killed the ones pitted against him. Several wounds littered the body that could have been the cause of its demise, but its chest in particular was riddled with multiple thin stab wounds from something cylindrical.

Broken and discarded beside the corpse was one of the specialized syringes that Little Sisters would walk around with, the glass vial broken and needle bent sharply in several places.

“Jesus Christ,” Atlas murmured, catching Syrus’s attention. The human’s blue eyes shifted as he looked the body over, brow furrowed. “I’ve seen things down here, but this is grislier than some…”

“What do you think caused the attack then,” Syrus asked, trying to discern any scents in the area. He only smelled more blood. He kept his good eye on the lookout for any movement nearby and strained to hear shuffling close by. There were ambient noises that had him tilting his head, but nothing more.

“Probably same thing as always down here,” Atlas glanced around to check for danger as well before crouching beside the body for a closer look. “Looks like a Splicer, or a group of them, got ahold of a Little Sister’s syringe and decided to try and collect the ADAM themselves. My question is why? Cohen supplies his Splicers with ADAM, that’s how he keeps them in line…”

“Do you think he cut them off for some reason,” Syrus asked, seeing the answer in the man’s face after interrupting his aloud thinking.

“No.”

Another tense silence fell between them, worse than before with the uncertainty that came from the presence of the Splicer corpse. Surprisingly, when Syrus moved to continue deeper into the streets of Fort Frolic, Atlas didn’t voice disapproval or try to ask him why he’d still risk going further in. He didn’t know why he was continuing himself, but what else was he going to do?

Both Syrus and Atlas walked cautiously, staying near store walls. Syrus sensed a change within the district, and as they slowly got closer to the center, the ambient noise that he was hearing earlier became clearer and he was able to realize what it was.

Splicers talked and murmured to themselves, none close enough to distinguish what they were saying, and any too close were carefully moved away from by the duo. The sounds were familiar and something he was used to in the normal sprawling halls of Rapture, but Fort Frolic had lacked it entirely during his entire ‘stay’ there. He didn’t know if it was discipline or bribery that had brought the silence beforehand, but it was broken either way and it only became louder, more frequent, as Syrus and Atlas got closer to Fleet Hall.

Syrus was barely able to register the sound of running footsteps from his right in front of them a moment before a Splicer ran out of an alley just ahead of them. He saw Atlas jolt and brace for a fight, doing the same, but it quickly became obvious that it hadn’t seen either of them. In fact, it looked more like it was running from something.

“C’mere with yer pretty ADAM,” a fancily dressed Splicer, one of the Houdini’s, simply popped into existence in front of the other Splicer in a flourish of glowing petals that manifested from and faded to nothing as it grinned sadistically at the running Splicer.

Atlas grabbed Syrus’ arm and pulled him into the nearest side alley, causing him to bare his teeth and jolt in surprise, but he made no noise at the sudden action. Instead, he joined Atlas in cautiously looking out from the alley shadows as the running Splicer barely managed to avoid crashing into the Houdini.

The Splicer reeled back, spitting out, “F-Fuck off, it’s mine!”

Before it could take a step in any direction to continue running or either Atlas or Syrus could blink, a burst of blood erupted from the Splicer’s chest and misted the air. It was speared through by a large shard of ice that had sprouted from the floor.

The Houdini approached the gurgling Splicer, the blue glow in its hand fading as it reached up and tapped the point of the bloodied ice shard, stating in a sing-song voice, “Got you and yer ADAM.”

Syrus tore his gaze from the Houdini as it hummed and began to rummage through the other Splicer’s pockets in its dying moments, nudging Atlas and interrupting his thoughts. The human didn’t make any noise, thankfully, looking at him from his staring at the Houdini with an unreadable expression. He jerked his head a bit to the side to indicate that they should get away from the scene before the Houdini moved its attention from the Splicer’s corpse.

Atlas nodded and turned away from the alley exit, starting to lead Syrus through the even more labyrinthian side alleys. It was obvious neither wanted to remain in the open.

“Let me guess,” Syrus whispered a bit bitterly, “That’s abnormal too?”

“Very,” Atlas hissed back worriedly. “If Cohen’s Houdini’s and Splicers are running amok this much in his Fort Frolic, then he either withheld their payday of ADAM, or something happened to him.”

“If something happened to him, at least we don’t have to worry about being locked in, hopefully,” Syrus mused quietly, thinking that maybe, maybe, Rabbit took the playwright out.

“I… don’t know. He’s been in control of so many Splicers,” Atlas peered around the corner to see if there was anything there. Satisfied by nothing, he continued to walk carefully and Syrus continued to follow. “If something’s happened to him, his Splicers are just going to run loose around Rapture now. Like a spider keeping the fly population down, he’s dangerous, but necessary. Probably the only reason we didn’t see more is because they would have dispersed to the Marketplace to the rest of Rapture.”

So, a free-for-all, Syrus supposed. But he frowned at Atlas’ words, asking, “Is there nothing beyond Fort Frolic?”

“Not directly, no… Not after Hephaestus was blown to bits by Jack. That way’s blocked off by one of the flood doors. There’s an entire other section of Rapture filled with the residential district for workers, a library, laboratories, and some other stuff I’m forgettin’. Maybe the vents.”

“Is there any way out on that side,” Syrus asked. His blood stomach twisted a bit to remind him of its presence painfully, causing him to grimace. Part of him wanted a Splicer to attack, if only because it would get his body to leave him alone.

“Not that I’m aware of, boyo,” Atlas sighed, “Again, it was mostly for the workers, and those on this side of Rapture didn’t care if any of us lived or died. It’s the whole reason I was starting the revolution.”

Syrus made a noise of acknowledgement, realizing he didn’t really know where Atlas was leading him. “Are you heading towards the Fleet Hall?”

The human stopped, glancing towards him before taking a breath and reluctantly answering, “Yes, Syrus, I am… We need to find out what happened to Cohen. I doubt he had a change of heart or profession, but I can’t imagine him being killed by one of his Splicers, there’s a reason he’s lasted this long.”

He looked like he had an idea in mind, but he wasn’t saying it.

“Could have been Rabbit,” Syrus suggested, seeing how Atlas looked exasperated and conflicted at the comment.

“I-,” Atlas’ voice held a tinge of frustration, “Yes, yes, I suppose it could have been, but that doesn’t really make it better for us.”

“Why not? The whole reason I even wanted to risk coming back was to see if they were Canary.”

“Because, Syrus, if Rabbit was Canary and all the Splicer’s start acting like this, then she’s either managed to wound him in escaping or backstabbed him in whatever deal was made,” Atlas whisper-yelled, looking back and pausing to answer Syrus. “Either way, she’ll be on edge and want to hunker back down in Arcadia. Hell, it’s been hours, she’s probably there now.”

“If you think she’s so dangerous and that she might not even be there, why are you going back to Fleet Hall with me? Why are you helping me,” Syrus asked, frowning a bit. Both Rabbit and Atlas were confusing in their own ways and he found himself increasingly frustrated. Watching the human prepare to respond, he heard something faintly with his left ear, a cackle.

He quickly grabbed Atlas’ upper arm, the arm holding the bent metal rod, placed a hand against the man’s mouth as he opened his mouth to respond and pressed both of them against the alley wall to be in the darkest sections of shadow. Ignoring the surprised grunt of surprise that was muffled by his hand or the human’s squirming, he turned his gaze upwards where he could hear faint humming and the tink-tink of tapping metal above getting closer with his good ear. Thankfully, Atlas seemed to realize that he was listening for something and stopped his muffled protests.

A Splicer, face half-covered by a damaged cat mask, peered into the alley from the opening above and looked back and forth. Its humming was actually singing, but it was so faint that Syrus wasn’t sure it knew it was singing aloud.

“Fishies in the allies, fishies in the streets. Make them squeal, collect the meats,” it sang as its gaze searched.

Syrus waited with bated breath as it repeated its morbid and musical mantra to itself, muscles tensed to either run or fight if it saw them below. A few times it paused and made him think that it had seen them or somehow heard them, but it always continued after a second or two.

Eventually, it turned its half-hidden gaze back up and carefully stretched its arms and torso across the gap above, sharpened and twisted metal embedded in its hands glinting as it did so. A Spider Splicer. The gap was, of course, too wide for its reach, but that didn’t deter it in the slightest. It let itself fall forward, lazily kicking the lip of the building behind it as it dropped. Dropping a few feet, its self-made claws raked against the other side until they dug into the surface and stopped the Spider from falling into the alley.

He grimaced at the scraping sound before it caught itself, the Spider pulling itself up from its new wall with a giggle and crawling away as it began to sing again. Slowly, it faded with the sound of its metallic claws, overshadowed by the newfound background din of Fort Frolic.

It was several seconds before Syrus or Atlas moved, half-expecting the Spider to crawl back or for there to be more. But, when there were no other nearby sounds, Syrus relaxed slightly and dropped his hand from Atlas’ face. To the human’s credit, he didn’t seem as bothered about being pulled aside as he seemed to be with not finishing his earlier explanation.

“Look, boyo,” Atlas’ voice was quieter than before as he scrubbed a hand across his face tiredly despite the bruising. Looking Syrus in the eyes, he asked, “You said earlier that death was around every corner, so what’s the harm in risks, right?”

Syrus frowned. The conversation after leaving Fort Frolic the first time felt like a lifetime ago, the adrenaline-filled fight even more distant. Curious, he slowly replied, “Something along those lines…”

Atlas gave him an almost studying look as though trying to gauge Syrus’ reaction as he continued, “In any case, I’ve been down here a long time. Since well before Jack and Rabbit got down here when I was headin’ a revolution. I’ve stayed alive because of caution and stealth, something I tried to pass on to those who looked up to me, who I was in charge of. But, I’ve no doubt that more than just Jack and Rabbit saw it as cowardice. Probably why they turned on me…

“Maybe it’s time for me to steel my nerves and do a bit more than just hide in the shadows and wait for the next day,” the human gave a lengthy sigh. “At least see if what’s between Rabbit and I is… mendable. And, I suppose, that starts with seeing if Rabbit was Canary and if Cohen bit it.”

Syrus wasn’t sure how to feel. Hungry still, mostly, his chest aching. So, he wasn’t sure if his feelings of misgivings were entirely founded or fueled by naturally feeling defensive with his wounds and need for blood. He told himself that if Atlas did try anything, he’d easily be able to overpower the human even while injured. And it’d make his life a lot easier, hopefully, to have both Rabbit and Atlas helping. Maybe all three of them could figure a way out to get out of this place.

“Lead on, then,” he gestured for Atlas to continue walking.

Atlas blinked at his response but gave a determined smile and nod. It took a couple seconds for him to remember which direction was towards Fleet Hall, but they were off in no time.

It took about an hour to reach Fleet Hall through the alleyways. Despite Atlas’ words about steeling his nerves and doing more than hiding in the shadows, both had an unspoken agreement that it was best to not draw attention to themselves and that caution was a must to continue forward. It was slow, and the closer they got to the theatre, the more fresh devastation they saw from the more active Splicers. Glimpses of corpses and the occasional body in the alleyways with blood lining the streets here and there as they crept from one alley to the next. Hysteric cackles and one-sided conversations let both men know how close most of the threats were.

At least Syrus was able to drink from the bodies they came across in the alleys. He felt Atlas’ eyes watch him after several seconds of drinking greedily from the first body, forcing himself to stop before getting his fill and only drank a few seconds from the rest since it made him uncomfortable to be under the humans’ stare. He also, very reluctantly, kept himself from finding the livers of the bodies and eating those as well. Still, his body appreciated the blood he did manage to drink, feeling his aches and pains from the fight dissipate a little.

His hearing improved enough that he wasn’t as deaf on his right side anymore, though he likely wouldn’t hear much unless it was a pistol going off or something banged on something else. His eyesight… was still very movement based. Maybe it was more saturated and the smallest degree clearer, but he wasn’t sure. A blob was still a blob.

It put him on edge how little these important senses were healing, but he’d also never gotten injured as severely as he had during the fight, never lost an eye or an ear before. At this rate, even if he had a steady supply of blood and iron-rich organs, it’d still take a couple days for his hearing to improve enough to be useful and his eye even longer. But at least the whine in his left ear was gone now.

After what felt like another eternity, Atlas managed to lead Syrus to the West side of Fleet Hall to a side entrance using another side alley. Given the huge entrance staircase in the front, they were about to enter the ‘basement’ of the building.

It was probably the quietest it’d been in their trek, the background noises of Splicers and such nowhere near. And, after both of them had been silent almost the entire time, the sound of the door opening as Atlas tried the handle felt unnervingly loud. Apparently locks meant nothing to Cohen. For this door, at least.

“Well, boyo,” Atlas said quietly, peering inside for a second to make sure it was safe before opening the door all the way and gesturing inside. “Let’s go in and see if Cohen grew a heart, or if his twisted substitute’s stopped beatin’.”

Syrus reluctantly walked inside, foot nudging a discarded coil of rope on the floor as he stepped into the somewhat small hall. Debris and scattered equipment lined the floor almost haphazardly, the lights above shining warmly on the dusty interior. The hall led down and branched in several places, obviously some labyrinthian storage for the theatre.

“We’re gonna have to be real quiet” Atlas whispered, carefully closing the door behind him. With it closed, Syrus could smell the dust and even faint lingering cologne and perfume. “Regardless if Cohen’s alive, there’s gonna be a few Splicers down here. Right now, we’re in the lowest level and have to find the stairs up.”

“Why didn’t we go in the front then,” Syrus asked quietly. There was the creak of a floorboard somewhere in the distance, but it was brief.

“Cause, Syrus, the Little Sister might see things differently, but it sounded to me like the lass and her Big Daddy got ambushed by Plasters. I’d rather not get clobbered over the head again if I can help it,” the human began to cautiously move inward down the hall.

Syrus made an acknowledging noise, thinking that was a fair thought. He’d have questioned how Atlas knew his way around, but the smallest glance around showed an abundance of signs in the hallway. Each room was marked with a plaque beside the door labeling its intended purpose with varying degrees of wear, signs to inform where the nearest exit was, and ones at each branching hall labeling what the sections had.

He followed Atlas as he crept forward with the bent rod in a white-knuckled grip, down one of the halls where the section sign included ‘Backstage Stairs’ in worn letters.

Both tried to stay alert for any Splicers hiding in the claustrophobic maze of halls and doors. If the door to a room was closed, neither worried much about it, walking past rooms labeled things like ‘Cable Storage 12’ and ‘Prop Room 3’, even if there was noise inside. Best to slip by as quick as they could to avoid alerting any lingering Splicers or increase the chances of the door being opened by whoever was inside.

Open rooms and branching hallways were cautiously peered into by Atlas since he was the one in the lead, stopped beside whatever entryway was in question briefly to ensure it was safe before both men continued carefully past.

Once more, minutes stretched painfully with their silent stop and go pace.

Syrus didn’t even bother trying to remember each turn or where they led, grateful for the extensive organization and labeling system in the halls that Cohen created down here. He just followed Atlas until he picked up a sound he couldn’t quite recognize from the next open room, grabbing the human’s arm just before he could look inside. Atlas gave him a confused look.

“Careful,” Syrus’ whisper was barely audible to himself, but Atlas got the message and went from confused to curious. “I can hear something inside.”

Atlas glanced back at the doorway before looking back at Syrus. So far, they’d been lucky enough to not come across any Splicers within the halls, and any Splicers in open rooms were preoccupied with their own insanity or searching the room for some unknown item. After a few seconds of contemplation, the human shifted so that he was pressed against the wall and nodded towards the open doorway to gesture that Syrus could look inside.

The Chupacabra glanced at the entryway and nodded, letting go of Atlas’ arm as he carefully moved around him to look inside. The odd faint sound he heard that he stopped them for continued as he peeked around the doorframe, his good eye finding the source easily.

A Splicer held a knife lightly in its hand and crouched over the body of another, dark red staining it and the floor around the corpse. It was fresh.

Unaware of its audience, the Splicer moved, leaning forward and used its free hand to steady the body as it finished cutting into it. The sound of flesh being cut was what Syrus had heard, as well as it being bitten into as the Splicer plucked its cut of flesh from the corpse and ate it. It shifted to cut another piece from the body and Syrus turned back to Atlas.

As long as the Splicer was content busying itself eating, he didn’t really care.

He gestured to Atlas that it was safe enough, letting the human take the lead again. He kept the Splicer inside in his peripherals as Atlas moved around him, seeing the other man look into the room as he passed with an indifferent look. With how long he’d been here, it likely wasn’t the first instance of cannibalism Atlas had witnessed.

A few more minutes and a detour around a blocked hallway, they finally reached the stairway up to backstage as the hall widened significantly.

The staircase was twice the width of the storage halls, another hall of similar size branching next to it with the sign ‘Large Props’ and the words ‘and Art Gallery’ added to the wall beside it in cursive with blood or paint. The lights from upstairs were noticeably brighter and not a sound was heard.

“It feels too quiet,” Syrus stated quietly, frowning a bit at the silence.

“I doubt there’s gonna be anyone backstage anymore, boyo,” Atlas replied, starting to walk up the steps. “Most everyone’s likely wreaking havoc outside. If you spent potentially decades working for drugs by a maniacal psychopath while being one yourself, I doubt you’d stick around longer than needed to ransack the place for any ADAM and desecrate the corpse.”

“I suppose,” Syrus trailed behind the human cautiously, still straining to hear anything. But he only heard him and Atlas’ footsteps. Though he noticed some blood as they reached the top and saw the aftermath of a bloodbath in the backstage section.

With the stairs at the back of the backstage room, the same size as the impressive stage itself, there were a few meters of relatively clean flooring until the nearest corpse, one that looked like it had been clawing to get to the stairs before it died.

Past that, it looked like dozens of bodies littered the room amongst knocked over and broken props, the floor stained and smeared with blood only hours old. There were even Plasters, broken bodies of flesh and plaster coating scattered around. A few pillars from the third act of the earlier fight were tipped over and broken on several bodies.

“Christ,” Atlas murmured, glancing over the scene and shifting his grip on his metal rod. He began to pick his way over the nearest corpses, steps muffled by semi-dried blood. “This explains why there weren’t as many Splicers downstairs and outside as I would have expected if Cohen’s control of Fort Frolic was gone.”

“Not as many,” Syrus asked incredulously, looking around as he also began to make his way across the room. He figured they’d seen plenty outside, more than he would have thought lived here given that the entire district was a dead zone for the three days he’d spent wandering around. He stopped beside Atlas as the human paused, searching for something among the corpses.

“He’s probably gotten thousands of Splicers over the years – oh, don’t look so surprised, boyo, this place was built to be an entirely functional city under the waves, remember,” Atlas chuckled in amused exasperation when Syrus jolted at the sound of thousands of Splicers, continuing whatever search. “I’m sure he’s never had more than a couple hundred at a time. They’re rather expendable to him. Any Splicer that wanders in has the unfortunate chance of being roped into his service or his art.

“Most wised up to it, of course. Eventually. You’d think that in all this carnage, there’d be one bloody – Oh! Perfect,” Atlas exclaimed, pleased. He tossed his twisted metal rod aside and pried a shotgun from a pile of bodies.

Syrus watched him check it over, seemingly satisfied with the firearm and even finding some intact shells in the pile. He was surprised when the human rummaged around some more, picking something up before tossing him what ended up being a rather bloody revolver. He caught it, being mindful of the trigger, and looked back with a raised eyebrow.

“Do ya know how to shoot, boyo,” Atlas asked, exasperated by his questioning look.

“Can’t say I have any experience, no,” Syrus replied, carefully turning it in his hands. “I only know how to pull the trigger.”

“Right, right… You mostly rely on your physical attributes,” Atlas sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in thought. After a couple seconds, he reached his hand out for the gun back and, when Syrus gave it, emptied the bullets from the chamber. He pocketed them and handed the revolver back, saying, “Just point it as a threat, and use it to bludgeon someone if they get too close. You’ve got enough injuries without accidentally hurtin’ yourself with this.”

Syrus frowned, thinking that it was unnecessary, but it was probably to try and make Splicers second guess attacking the duo if they were both armed with guns. He doubted it would work, but there also wasn’t any harm in keeping it on him for now.

Though, speaking of injuries, it brought them back to the forefront of his mind and he glanced at the abundance of corpses around. After the brief feedings earlier, he could refrain himself from the urge to drink. But it would be ideal to try and keep his healing up as much as he could, and if both his stomachs were filled then it should last him a few hours until they could get to a safer space.

“Ah, you’re welcome to do what you gotta do, boyo, I’ll see what else I can scavenge from this mess,” Atlas said, drawing Syrus’ attention. He gestured to a different section of the backstage. “Just, uh, let me know when you’re finished.”

Atlas walked off and began to rummage around the other corpses a small distance away.

Syrus could only guess that the human had noticed or surmised his discomfort at being stared at while feeding and wasn’t going to complain about the other man trying to not make it awkward. He still gave Atlas a glance as he knelt beside one of the corpses and began to feed, drinking deeply of the cold, chemical-infused blood that was still in the body. Surprisingly, it didn’t taste as bad as usual, and he even felt a slight warmth after drinking his fill from two bodies. Perhaps it was because of his injuries, or maybe he was just getting way too used to it.

With another glance towards the human, who was still picking his way through corpses, and a brief internal debate, he shifted to his more feral form and nosed amongst the corpses. It was easier to just bite into abdomens and snap up most of the organs in a bite than it was to use claws to tear into the bodies in his human form to find the livers.

After tearing into a few corpses, he licked his lips of any remnant blood and gore before changing back. The feeling of his bones and muscles shifting and tearing a bit caused him discomfort like usual, but it was overshadowed by his body’s contentment with both stomachs being full.

“Ready whenever you are,” Syrus announced, walking up to Atlas.

The human stood up and turned around from whatever corpse he was looking at, pocketing a few more bullets as he turned to look at Syrus. He glanced him over, replying, “I’m ready to get the fuck back outta this district. You’ve got a little something on your face though, Syrus.”

Syrus reached up and wiped a thumb over the corner of his mouth to where Atlas pointed, pulling it away and seeing a smear of blood he seemed to have not taken care of. Atlas, seemingly satisfied with the action, nodded in approval and began to pick his way over to the double doors to the side of the backstage. As they both got closer, Syrus noticed that the curtain had slashes and a few bullet holes through it, and a small set of stairs back down into the floor with the sign ‘Orchestra Pit’ above it.

Atlas walked up to the double doors, cocking the shotgun in his hands and pressed his hip against the push bar of the right-side door, cautiously peering out into the hall. After several seconds of him glancing out with no sound, he pushed the door open all the way and said, “Right, hall’s clear, boyo.”

Syrus followed Atlas into the new hall and a cursory glance revealed only a couple bodies on the carpet floor of the hallway. Like the storage section, there was a plaque beside the double doors labeled ‘Backstage’ and a sign on the wall that pointed to the nearest restroom, exit, and said the number of dressing rooms and prop rooms on this floor. Stairs were situated across the hall from the double doors to allow ease of access for anyone coming down from the floors above with another sign with ‘DR 200-250, MR 200-205: DR 300-310, MR 300’.

“Where to now,” he asked, wishing there was a sign that just had ‘Cohen Here’ with an arrow that pointed in the direction of the maniac. He hoped they wouldn’t have to hunt around in here through each room to try and find the man.

“Cohen wouldn’t just use a normal dressing room,” Atlas walked over to the stairs and glanced over the directory with a hum for a couple of seconds. “I don’t see it on here, but he likes flourish. Probably on whatever top floor this place has.”

“More stairs then,” Syrus exhaled a bit through his nose, starting to walk up the steps. Atlas, who’d mostly been leading this entire time, didn’t protest and just trailed behind him up the stairwell that folded to circle back to the second floor.

Like the sign at the bottom of the stairs had implied, there were two other floors. The second looked about the same as the first floor from the brief glance they gave it, but the top floor looked more well kept and fancy-looking, probably for big name actors and actresses that worked at the theatre. The only thing ruining the more expensive interior design were the stains of blood and a few more bodies in the halls, the majority in one particular direction.

Atlas kicked the nearest corpse absentmindedly and glanced at Syrus, saying, “Well, I think we know what direction Cohen’s office is in if it’s up here. I doubt the Splicers have been kind to his corpse if he’s actually kicked the bucket… Are you ready to move ahead? There’s no guarantee that Rabbit did this, or if she’s even still here.”

“Not much use stalling if we want answers,” Syrus replied. He didn’t even know what he wanted out of this whole excursion. Was he expecting some kind of closure? A sense of accomplishment? Regardless of the outcome, he was still going to be trapped down here for the time being. He supposed the question was whether it would be with one human ally or two.

Atlas gave him a small nod of acknowledgement at his response, turning to walk down the hall and stepping over corpses in the way. “You want answers, Syrus. I’m here for… moral support, more or less.”

Both of them fell silent as they walked down the hall of scattered bodies. They reached the turn in the hall and there, at the end of the hallway, was a very open room with a broken in door. They each glanced at the other but continued towards it cautiously. It was presumed to be Cohen’s office and when they got close enough, there was a defaced and bent plaque on the wall beside it that wasn’t even properly legible, scratches and bullet holes only broken by ‘Co—ffi—‘.

Before even entering, it felt more posh than the rest of the floor. Or, at least, better taken care of before whatever caused the mess inside.

Scorched spots pockmarked the walls and claw marks tore through clean wallpaper that peeled at their edges, a torn canvas and broken easel on the blood and paint-soaked carpet. Debris and glass shined in the lights of the office from the floor along with several office items that looked like they’d been tossed around the room. And, as they entered the room, they saw that a fancy cabinet from behind the desk inside was tossed on its side with its doors broken and torn off its hinges.

And, they found Cohen. Or who they assumed was Cohen.

The man’s face was blown off, leaving him unrecognizable by facial features, but his suit jacket that he’d been wearing was torn and scattered beside his desk. Like a morbid display, his body was sat on a fainting couch against the wall, held up by a haphazard mess of strings and rope held in place by several items just stabbed into the wall's surface, from a few scissors to a section of metal rod. A pistol was tied to his left hand by a stained bandana, the wrist suspended so that it looked like he was pointing it at his own head.

His shirt was torn open at the chest, flesh marred to read ‘Bastard’ and his intestines were exposed across his lap. Several chunks of flesh seemed to be missing from the corpse, and the exposed intestines made Syrus think that some of the man had been eaten.

Words were painted in blood and paint and some gauged into the wall above the body, each varying in size, handwriting, and severity. Each was an insult or comment, ranging from ‘Fruit’ and ‘Hack’ to ‘man-fucker’, ‘pervert’, and a rather lewd miniature memoir someone scrawled in the wallpaper.

Syrus wasn’t sure whether or not this was the worst display of depravity he’d seen down here. It was certainly the most… creative, he supposed he could say. Probably the only reason he’d classify it as the most grotesque thing he’d seen was the intricate way the body was placed, posed to try and capture a fabricated moment of Cohen shooting himself while the body itself was torn into. The only other thing that came close was probably the displays of Steinman’s perfection attempts that were seen in the medical wing.

He glanced at Atlas, seeing that the man’s face was unreadable and whether this was considered a victory or not was hard to tell. He thought he saw Atlas’ hands shaking. ___________________________________________ << | < |  | >

[love-banddcarpetgalore-blr]

Transform Your Living Style with Custom Blind In Wollongong

Your house is your haven, where you can unwind, refuel, and express yourself. When it comes to interior design, even minor modifications may have a significant impact. Custom blind in Wollongong is a flexible and practical option that may drastically improve the appearance and feel of your Wollongong home.

Custom blinds have emerged as a game changer in window coverings, allowing homeowners to turn their homes into personalized havens. Custom blind in Wollongong has become the ultimate fashion statement due to their limitless stylistic possibilities and superb craftsmanship.

Why Prefer Custom Blind In Wollongong?

If you can't decide whether to buy a custom blind in Wollongong or not, consider the following factors to help you make a more informed decision. Installing beautiful blinds may improve the look of your house without requiring a full-fledged home makeover. Furthermore, it is a low-cost option that will not strain your budget.

Custom blind in Wollongong enhance the visual appeal of your home's interiors and enrich the overall environment. Installing high-quality, long-lasting inside blinds can help you save money on your energy expenses. Let's discuss how the installation of custom blinds in Wollongong can transform your living style-

Perfect fit

The ability to get a perfect fit for every window in your home is one of the most significant benefits of custom-made blinds. When it comes to precise specifications, off-the-shelf blinds frequently fall short, resulting in ugly gaps or inconvenient modifications. Custom blinds are precisely sized for each window, creating a smooth fit that improves the overall appearance of the room.

Completely personalised

Custom blinds are available in a variety of specified sizes. As a result, there is a risk that they will not fit in your area. You can wind up squandering your money on something that doesn't even fit in your place. Finally, you must either accept anything that does not fulfill the objective or get new ones.

If you still want these ready-made blinds, you will have to sacrifice weather protection. Furthermore, because they will not exactly suit your area, they will lack the elegant seamless effect provided by custom blinds. Custom blinds in Wollongong may be made to fit your room properly, providing optimal weather protection while maintaining the design you've always desired.

Professional installation

Each outdoor construction is unique in terms of design and size. Square constructions are uncommon, especially in older homes. You need the assistance of an expert who can make custom blinds in Wollongong to your exact specifications. If you want a personalized blind for your space, choose a reputable specialist. Professional blind companies are well-equipped with all of the necessary fixings to install and operate your blinds without incident.

Increased life expectancy

If you install low-cost shelf shades, they may not survive long. You may wind up replacing them with new ones in a shorter period. Ultimately, you will be paying more for something of poor quality. They have senior qualities and also prolonged life span and can last for many years. Good quality custom blind in Wollongong that last longer and is tailored to your specific needs.

Quality and exquisite craftsmanship

You can expect nothing less than beautiful craftsmanship and outstanding quality whe invest ing in custom blinds in Wollongong. Unlike mass-produced blinds, which may skimp on materials or structure, custom blinds are handcrafted with care and created from high-quality materials. The superior craftsmanship and attention to detail guarantee that your blinds not only improve but also become a lasting statement of style and quality.

Long-term fashion investment

Choosing custom blind in Wollongong is more than simply a passing fancy; it is a long-term stylistic investment. You may enjoy the lifespan of your blinds without the need for frequent changes by picking high-quality materials and classic designs. Custom blinds provide a versatile and long-lasting solution that responds to changing design trends and may transition easily between different home designs. Investing in custom-made blinds improves the aesthetics of your room but also adds value to your property, making it a great long-term investment.

Final Thoughts

Custom-made blinds have transformed the window treatment industry, providing a one-of-a-kind opportunity to turn your room into an amazing representation of your particular style. Custom blind in Wollongong has become the ultimate fashion statement due to their limitless design possibilities, exact fit, superior craftsmanship, and ability to manage light and privacy. Embrace the power of personalization and improve your home with custom blinds that express elegance, uniqueness, and long-lasting beauty. With personalized blinds, you can turn your windows into a canvas for self-expression and make a lasting impact.

[ainews]

Coelacanths are a rare and ancient fish species that have been around for over 400 million years. They are often referred to as "living fossils" because they have remained relatively unchanged throughout their evolution. These unique creatures have garnered a lot of attention from scientists and enthusiasts alike, but one group that has struggled to engage with them is construction workers who wear hard-hats.

Hard-hats are essential safety equipment for construction workers, providing protection against falling objects and other hazards on job sites. However, they also create a barrier between the wearer and their environment, making it difficult to feel or sense certain things. For coelacanths, this means that workers wearing hard-hats are unable to experience their texture or movements.

This lack of engagement with coelacanths can be frustrating for construction workers, especially those who are passionate about marine life and would love to have a firsthand experience with these unique creatures. Despite their rarity and significance in the world of biology, coelacanths are not commonly found in many areas and are typically only encountered by deep-sea divers or researchers.

Furthermore, coelacanths are not the only creatures that construction workers may struggle to engage with due to their hard-hats. Other marine life, such as sea turtles and dolphins, often swim near construction sites and can go unnoticed by workers due to their protective gear.

However, the safety of workers should always be the top priority, and the use of hard-hats is crucial in the construction industry. Therefore, finding a balance between safety and engagement with marine life is essential.

Some companies have begun exploring alternatives to traditional hard-hats, such as transparent or mesh helmets, which may allow for better sensory experiences while still providing adequate protection. Other measures, such as incorporating educational sessions or guided tours for workers, can also help promote awareness and engagement with marine life.

Overall, while hard-hats may make it difficult to feel or touch creatures like coelacanths, they are a necessary part of ensuring the safety of workers on construction sites. However, efforts should be made to find ways to balance safety and engagement with the natural environment, allowing for a more holistic and enriching experience for all.

[workpermitz]

5 Types Of US Visas And Their Importance You Must Know !

Not all visas are created equally - here's a breakdown of the five main types!

If you're looking to travel abroad, these distinctions will come in handy when you need to apply for one.

But you might have a question: what work visa usa category would you apply if you were going abroad?

Well, no worry, all you need to know is the different types of visas available and their importance to ensure a smooth and hassle-free travel experience. 

This blog will provide an overview of the five types of US Visas and the importance of each. 

 So let's dive in and explore the world of US Visas!

5 Types of US Visas & Their Importance 

TYPE1– Family-Based Immigration: 

Family-based immigration is a type of immigration where an individual can immigrate to a foreign country to reunite with their family. It is a way for families to keep in touch and stay together, regardless of where they are located geographically.

Importance

It is important to understand the importance of family-based us immigration visas. The most important reason to consider family-based immigration is to reunite families.

It allows families to stay connected and maintain relationships with each other, even if they are geographically distant. This can help strengthen family ties and allow family members to support and be involved in each other’s lives.

Family-based immigration also allows families to reunite after long periods apart. For example, if a family has been separated due to a job opportunity or other circumstances, family-based immigration can bring them back together. This allows family members to reconnect, rekindle relationships, and build new memories.

Finally, family-based immigration can bring cultural diversity and enrichment to a foreign country. Immigrants bring their own cultures, languages, and experiences, and this can help to enrich the culture of the country they are immigrating to.

TYPE2– Employment-Based Immigration: 

Employment-Based Immigration is a type of USA visa granted to individuals looking to work in the US. The employment-based immigration is a great way for foreign workers to access the US labour market.

Importance

Employment-basedus immigration visas are an important pathway for highly skilled and educated workers who wish to work in the United States. 

This type of visa is highly sought after by employers and benefits both employers and foreign workers.

Employment-based immigration USA visa also provides foreign workers with the opportunity to gain valuable experience and training in their chosen field. This can be extremely beneficial in terms of career growth and advancement. 

Additionally, foreign workers can apply for permanent residency and, eventually, US citizenship through this visa. This allows them to access various rights and benefits otherwise unavailable to them.

TYPE3– H-1B Visa

The H-1B visa is a non-immigrant visa that allows US employers to hire foreign workers in speciality occupations. This visa is one of the most sought-after visas for foreign workers and is widely used by a variety of industries, including technology, engineering, finance and healthcare.

Importance

The importance of the h1b visa usa is that it makes it easier for US employers to hire foreign workers with specialized skills. 

This helps to fill jobs that would otherwise remain vacant due to a lack of qualified American workers. Additionally, it helps to create a more diverse and competitive workforce in the US.

Overall, the H-1B visa is an important tool for US employers to access highly skilled foreign workers. This work visa USA helps to create a more diverse and competitive workforce and stimulates economic growth.

TYPE4– Student Visa: 

Student visas are a type of visa that is required for international students who want to study abroad. This visa allows students to stay in a foreign country for their studies. Student visas come with rules and regulations that must be followed to remain in the country legally.

Importance

Student visas are important because they allow students to gain a quality education from a foreign country. Without a student visa, students would not be able to access the resources and opportunities offered in a foreign country. 

It also allows students to experience a new culture, language, and way of life.

Having a student USA visa also allows students to work part-time in the country of study. This is important for students who may need to supplement their income while studying abroad. 

Additionally, having a student visa allows students to travel within the country and even to other countries if they meet certain criteria.

TYPE5– Tourist Visa: 

A tourist visa is a document issued by a foreign country that allows a traveller to enter the country for leisure, sightseeing, and other activities of recreational nature. It is also known as a visitor visa.

Importance

The importance of a tourist visa USA lies in its ability to grant access to a foreign country. Without a valid visa, travellers may be denied entry or subjected to more rigorous scrutiny at the border.

 A tourist visa also protects the health and safety of travellers and the host country.

When it comes to the U.S., the importance of a tourist visa increases even more. Tourist visas are essential for travellers wishing to visit the U.S. for any reason, whether for pleasure, business, or family. 

The U.S. government requires that all non-U.S. citizens obtain a visa before entering the country. This helps the government track who is entering and leaving the country and identifies potential threats.

Get Advice From Professionals!

We understand how daunting it can be to figure out the types of US Visas and their importance. 

That is why our team of experienced visa USA experts are here to help! 

Our experts will also give you personalized advice on the best visa for your travel plans, taking into consideration all the relevant requirements. So, don't hesitate to contact Work Permitz today for expert advice and assistance.

[brainydogs]

Why is Dog Training important?

When you own a dog, training is an essential component. Training builds confidence, stimulates the mind, and enriches the human-animal bond. Dogs are always learning new things. It is never too late to begin your training.

Training a dog teaches you a common language that will allow you to communicate with one another. Apart from comprehending what your dogs are attempting to communicate, there are numerous more reasons to train them. One of these is training gives a dog enough mental activity to keep it happy.

Dogs and humans are not the same species. They have numerous unique characteristics, such as their communication style, nutritional requirements, body cooling function, sleep cycles, etc. Dogs and humans first shook hands about 16 thousand years ago. And that has altered the direction of our lives. Since then, people have taken on caring for their pets and keeping them healthy and happy. They believe there are no terrible dogs, only bad owners. So, when a dog is unable to learn and adapt from her wild surroundings and family, it is the responsibility of her human parents to teach her the canine education she requires.

People believed that dog training was about teaching them cool things, such as obedience commands taught via negative reinforcement, including harsh punishment-based tactics. It was a luxury for dog owners at one point. Most of the time, people thought it simple that anyone could do it independently without the assistance of necessary knowledge and professionals.

The notion about punishment-based tactics appears to be true even in this day and age. People, however, have turned to professional instruction and mastering the fundamentals of canine training. Unfortunately, the unfortunate reality is that the majority of dogs are not well-trained. It, in turn, results in dogs getting handed to shelters due to behavioral concerns that you can avoid. Investing your time in your dog to educate them canine education can make it happy, which will ultimately benefit both of you. 

Understanding how your dog learns and applying positive training techniques is one of the best ways to create a healthier relationship with your dog. It makes learning rewarding, successful, and as easy as possible. In addition, training is one of the most effective strategies to comprehend your dog and what they are attempting to say to you. 

You should not use punitive or negative reinforcement training in dog education. Corrective training methods fail due to a lack of affection and mental agony. Furthermore, as a result of dominating status, it will jeopardize your dog’s physical and psychological health.

A good dog training technique, on the other hand, combines mutual trust and rewards for excellent conduct, which will aid in the development of a positive relationship between you and your dog.

[aboutcapybara]

Can Capybaras Be Dangerous

As a devoted capybara owner, I am thrilled to share my personal experience and insights into the question, "Are Capybaras Dangerous?" Capybaras, with their gentle and sociable nature, are often misunderstood as potentially dangerous creatures due to their impressive size.

In this article, I will delve into the truth behind capybara behavior, addressing whether they can be dangerous and the factors that influence their temperament. Join me on this journey as I provide firsthand knowledge and guidance to help dispel misconceptions surrounding these remarkable animals.

The Gentle Nature of Capybaras

Having spent significant time with capybaras, I can confidently attest to their gentle and docile nature. Capybaras are the largest rodents on Earth, yet they display a remarkable level of calmness and sociability. They are highly social animals that thrive in groups, forming strong bonds with their family and other compatible species.

In my experience, capybaras are not naturally aggressive animals. They are more likely to exhibit curiosity and friendliness towards humans and other animals. Their peaceful demeanor and non-threatening behavior are key reasons why they are rarely considered dangerous.

Social Structure and Behavior

Understanding the social structure and behavior of capybaras is essential in dispelling the notion of them being dangerous. Capybaras are herd animals, living in groups that provide support and safety. They rely on their strong social bonds to navigate their environment, which fosters a sense of security and trust.

As a capybara owner, I have witnessed their friendly interactions with each other and other animals. They engage in mutual grooming, playful activities, and vocalizations to communicate and strengthen their social connections.

Interaction with Humans

As a responsible capybara owner, I must emphasize the importance of proper socialization and interaction with these animals. Early exposure to human contact plays a crucial role in shaping their behavior towards humans.

Capybaras raised in a loving and nurturing environment tend to be more friendly and comfortable around humans. However, like any animal, they may show signs of fear or anxiety if they are not accustomed to human presence. It is essential to approach them with respect and give them the space they need to feel comfortable.

Factors Influencing Behavior

Various factors can influence capybara behavior and whether they can be considered dangerous. These factors include:

a) Environment: Capybaras that are kept in a stressful or confined environment may display signs of aggression or defensive behavior. Providing them with a spacious and enriching habitat is vital for their well-being.

b) Stress and Fear: Like all animals, capybaras may become defensive or aggressive if they feel threatened or stressed. Understanding their body language and respecting their boundaries can prevent any potential issues.

c) Lack of Socialization: Capybaras that have not been adequately socialized with humans and other animals may be more skittish and prone to displaying defensive behaviors.

Responsible Ownership and Safety

As a capybara owner, it is my responsibility to ensure the safety of my pets and others. While capybaras are generally not dangerous, their large size can unintentionally cause harm if they feel threatened or anxious. To ensure a safe and positive experience with capybaras:

a) Educate Others: Share your knowledge and experiences with capybaras to promote a better understanding of their nature.

b) Supervised Interaction: Always supervise interactions between capybaras and other animals or humans, especially children, to prevent any accidental harm.

c) Respect Their Space: Allow capybaras to approach and initiate contact, and avoid making sudden or aggressive movements around them.

Conclusion

In conclusion, my experience as a capybara owner has shown me that capybaras are not inherently dangerous. Their gentle and sociable nature, combined with proper care and socialization, make them delightful companions.

Understanding their behavior, respecting their boundaries, and providing a nurturing environment are essential in fostering a harmonious relationship with these remarkable animals.

By dispelling misconceptions and promoting responsible ownership, we can appreciate the true nature of capybaras and ensure a positive and enriching experience for both owners and these magnificent creatures.

[adobe-outdesign]

Pokemon Worldbuilding Headcanons

Exactly what it says in the title. Some are based on the game, some on the anime, and some directly contradict both because the Pokemon lore is made up and your feelings don’t matter.

Biology

Pokemon heal faster when unconscious or asleep--thus, they faint easily from pain or exhaustion in order to recuperate.

During evolution, a Pokemon converts itself into energy and reforms itself. Evolution is optional, and a Pokemon can choose if and when it evolves. Evolution is triggered by both an environmental circumstance (ex: winning a battle), and by the Pokemon storing up energy over time until it has enough to transform.

Stress evolutions are when a Pokemon evolves prematurally in order to win a battle or when they’re in a life-or-death situation. This can result in the evolution being smaller than normal and possibly weaker as well.

“Trade evolutions” are a loose grouping of Pokemon that typically evolve when they start working with a new trainer. The exact reasons for the evolution varies by individual, and therefore can have multiple causes.

Ex: a Pokemon may evolve after it learns something from someone else. While the easiest way to achieve this is through trade, they may also evolve by training under a wiser, older Pokemon.

Trade evolutions are somewhat rare in the wild, but not unheard of.

Pokemon that evolve via stones cannot store enough energy to evolve naturally. The stones contain extra energy that they can tap into in order to aid in evolution.

Everstones work similar to sponges; they absorb the extra energy a Pokemon would normally store up to evolve, thus preventing them from doing so. They’re mostly used for medical purposes (as a Pokemon evolving when badly injured could worsen its injuries) and to help prevent stress evolutions in Pokemon that don’t want to evolve.

Pokemon types are based on the type of energy they utilize, rather than moves or appearance. Ex: Charizard is not dragon-type despite looking like a dragon because it doesn’t use dragon-type energy. New energies are discovered all the time and Pokemon are reclassified as needed.

Pokemon typing also changes as they (Darwinian) evolve. A Pokemon that’s normal/grass used to be normal-type, has started to gain grass-typing, and will eventually be only grass-type.

Humans are descended from Pokemon. They used to be psychic-type before becoming normal-type and then losing their typing all together. At this point they no longer are energy-based nor do they lay eggs, so they’re considered a separate-but-related family.

This is why some people still show psychic powers; those abilities never completely went away in some bloodlines.

Pokemon have been domesticated for so long that there’s actually no such thing as a “wild” Pokemon anymore (with the exception of legendaries). Wild Pokemon are technically feral, and any given Pokemon will quickly adapt to living with humans if caught.

Pokemon used to look different hundreds of years ago, and have slowly undergone Darwinian evolution over time as they were domesticated.

“Most trainers will legendaries shortly after their journey starts” statistic false. Most trainers will see no legendaries in their lifetimes. Ash Ketchum, who’s seen every single legendary in existence, is an outlier and should not be counted

However, areas where legendaries are known to live are oftentimes marked as no-catch conservation areas. People will oftentime travel to these parks to admire “common” legendaries (such as the bird trio) in their natural habitats.

Battles

Not knocking out a Pokemon you’re trying to capture is more of a honored rule than a law. The reason it’s done is to give the Pokemon ample time to flee--otherwise, someone may one-shot a Pokemon that doesn’t want a trainer, resulting in the Pokemon being unfairly knocked out and the trainer wasting their time.

If you give the Pokemon time to flee and it chooses to stay and fight, it’s potentially interested in accepting you as a trainer and you just have to prove yourself. If it flees, you should leave it alone.

Pokemon used for battles are specifically trained to not cause permanent harm or injury to their opponents (ex: that fire blast isn’t as hot as it could be, so it’ll only cause minor burns instead of third-degree ones). While the attacks used might look violent and cause some pain, serious injuries are very rare.

Wild Pokemon are also pretty good at restraining themselves if they’re just battling for fun or to test a trainer. They will not, however, restrain themselves if they feel threatened or are hunting. Trainers are advised to use caution when fighting wild Pokemon and return their Pokemon to their balls if necessary.

Psychic-types (Mr. Mime especially) are used to create protective barriers around arenas/trainers to protect people from flying debris and stray attacks.

Refs always have a few Pokemon on hand that know moves like stun spore or sleep powder in order to stop any fights that get out of hand.

Pokeballs

While some trainers different Pokemon by using different types of Pokeballs, decorating them is also a popular way to do it. Some people draw symbols or initials on the buttons, some add stickers, some paint them, ect.

Stores also sell semi-transparent hard shells that snap over the balls. These come in different colors and designs, so you can have a Pokeball that has a galaxy design on top instead of plain red if you want.

Most trainers keep about 40 some Pokemon or less, which they rotate between their party, the PC, and daycares/Pokemon sitters to keep them enriched and active. Some people keep more, but they generally spend all of their time caring for them and therefore aren’t trainers.

The general rule of thumb is to not leave a Pokemon in the PC for more than two weeks. If you fail to take them out after a month, they will be automatically removed and released back into the wild.

Pokeballs create little miniature simulations of nature, making them feel bigger on the inside. Different types of pokeballs have different or more advanced simulations, which may increase how much a Pokemon likes being in it.

Pokeballs create an invisible “tag” for the Pokemon by altering their energy when they’re first caught. These tags affect nothing, but Pokeballs are programmed to automatically check for one before they’ll activate.

Many poachers and other illegal groups produce their own illegal Pokeballs that do not check for tags before capture.

If a Pokeball breaks, it automatically releases the Pokemon inside and removes their tag.

Tags fade after about a month to allow for other trainers to capture a Pokemon after it’s been permanently released. The tag is automatically refreshed every time a Pokemon is brought back into its ball.

The standard Pokeball pattern is based off of the patterns of the Foongus line. Pokemon are very attracted to their markings, so the balls are painted the same to make the Pokemon like them more.

Eggs

Rather than combining genetics, Pokemon reproduce by combining their energy together (this looks a bit like two Pokemon evolving at the same time). Because of this, they lack reproductive organs and chromosomes.

Gender is a loosely defined concept for them. Pokemon can change their sex upon evolution if they want to, and some will change their sex over time (ex: legendaries are usually genderless, but will gain a sex to breed and then lose it again afterward).

If a Pokemon doesn’t display sexual dimorphism, the only way to determine their sex is to have a Pokemon Center do a blood test.

Eggs aren’t laid, but created. The pregnant Pokemon fosters energy in their body. When ready they separate the extra energy from themselves (once again, looks a bit like evolution), which forms into the egg. This causes them no pain, and means they have short gestation periods.

This also means Pokemon never look pregnant. The only way to tell is by getting them tested or paying attention to changes in behavior. Many trainers end up with eggs out of nowhere because they had no idea one of their Pokemon was pregnant to begin with.

In the wild, some species of Pokemon will lay hundreds of eggs (such as fish and bug Pokemon) to ensure their survival. In captivity, Pokemon rarely create more than 1 or 2 eggs at a time, likely because they understand their young are safe with their trainers.

Pokemon develop more quickly in their eggs than IRL animals. They can technically hatch shortly after the egg is made, but they usually spend extra time inside maturing. By the time the egg hatches, the baby already has fur/feathers/whatever, and can walk and eat solid food. This helps ensure their survival against predators.

Young Pokemon are differentiated by being “mature” or “immature”; an immature Pokemon will still gradually grow and change appearance, while a mature one is fully grown until it evolves. A Pokemon cannot evolve until it’s considered mature (excluding mega evolution for single-stagers).

To use Vulpix as a canon example: a newly hatched immature Vulpix is about 8 in tall and has one white tail. A mature Vulpix is about 2 ft tall and has six red tails.

In the wild, Pokemon mostly breed amongst their own species. The exception are Pokemon with uneven gender ratios (so if a Pokemon is 7:1 male vs female, the males will actively breed with anything in their egg group). Inter-species breeding among captive Pokemon is much more common, and usually based on the Pokemon’s personal preferences.

Hybridization in Pokemon born from two different parents is very rare, but it does happen from time to time. It’s more common in Pokemon that look similar or are distantly related.

“Perfect” hybrids, Pokemon that have equal amounts of traits from both parents as well as typing and abilities, are more sought after than shinies. They usually can’t breed due to their mix of energies.

[prof-peach]

Hey Prof, I need your advice.

My sister recently decided she didn't wanted her bulbasaur anymore (she got him on a whim about a month ago) and gave him to me, he is quite violent and tends to attack when I try to get close to him.

Now, that wouldn't be a huge problem, but my Purrloin has gotten hurt trying to befriend him, she's quite outgoing and never really liked fighting (we enjoy contests so she knows a few more flashy attacks), so she couldn't even defend herself properly.

I don't want to give up on him and my local rescue center is filled with Bunearies (you know, after Easter kids don't want their Bunny anymore) so they can't take him in right now, any advice in how I can go about this situation?

Sounds to me like you have a tricky little dude on your hands. So you're not battle orientated which will make this harder, Bulbasaur in the wild are actually quite combat minded to defend their families and territory, and a lot of their herds consist of strict hierarchy based on power and skill, often led by older, fully evolved members of their group. 

Before you take any actions to befriend them, its worth noting that any pokemon who comes into your care showing aggression is usually doing so for one or two reasons that are pretty universal for any species. Fear being the main issue with pokemon who have been ditched, if a pokemon is unwell, if it feels exposed, if it is unsure of you or your home, your partners, it may lash out because it is afraid. Even what looks like pure anger can stem from a fear. Of course some individuals are just full of rage, its not unheard of, but for the most part it comes from somewhere else. 

For a moment, take the time to put yourself in this pokemons shoes. It was chosen, with hopes and ambitions of its own, by your sister, a stranger to them, and for whatever reason they were cast aside. This reason may be unclear to the pokemon, it may be unfair, unkind, or even without malice just out of pure indifference. No matter the reason, this pokemon has been left behind by a trainer it at one point probably wanted to try to get along with. I don’t know what your sister may or may not have done, or provided for the bulbasaur, but it will help you understand how its feeling, if you were to ask her about their relationship prior to you receiving the pokemon. If it has always been aggressive and angry, i’d seriously consider talking to it about release, not rehome. 

We humans have a preconceived notion that pokemon are pets and things to keep with us. This may be true for some sure, but not every pokemon wishes to be a captive to a human, they may want more for themselves, and wish for a free life with their own kind. We cannot put our wants and desires above that of the pokemons, so you two need to have a talk, at a respectful distance for safeties sake, to see what the Bulbasaur feels they may want. These are herd pokemon, born and bred to be with their own kind, if not a larger group, if its lonely, if it wants to go home, to start a family, or simply to not be held in a ball as some creature to be owned, then you as its current carer must give it what you can. You can always find another pokemon who wants to be your partner, but you cannot give back lost years to a pokemon who has lived a life its unhappy with. Treat them with respect, and be open and honest. At the end of the day we have a chance to help pokemon, and forcing what we want onto them is a hinderance, and will lead to them feeling unsatisfied and bitter in the long run. 

Some pokemon lash out due to the process of being handed off to someone else, trust is earnt, not always just simply given to whoever holds the pokeball. Remember this as you move forward, and try to keep your other pokemon away from them, Bulbasaur are territorial species, and have to accept pokemon into their families before simply allowing them to come and go freely into their personal space. Despite their grouchy natures at times they usually do have a morally positive compass, and defend with ferocity when they love something. Perhaps in you showing genuine concern for their welfare and future, offering them not what you want, but instead what they want, they may give you a chance to get closer, but take baby steps, and try to be their friend above all else. I bet they're feeling pretty lonely right now. 

Its worth sharing interests with the pokemon, talk about contests, see if they're interested, some pokemon have a predisposition for this, others have no interest and prefer more battle based lives, or even peaceful non-competitive existences. no amount of pressure will change a pokemon’s nature, and some just aren't cut out for the fine art of showmanship that contests require. You can however use powerful attacks in showy ways, so theres always hope that they could enjoy it, if you can work with them to their strengths. 

If possible, work to getting them outdoors, cooping grass types up can lead to stroppy, testing personalities, many thrive in the outdoors, he may need some serious outside time to compensate for the lack of exercise and natural stimulation they may have not been getting prior to your ownership. There are plenty of areas in public that are much like tennis courts, areas of space you can book for a set amount of time too exercise difficult pokemon, these locations are often secure facilities, both outdoors and indoors, to suit a range of species. find one that has outdoor facilities and book a few hours per week to go there, increasing the time whenever possible. This exercise and time with you may help to find common ground, and topics that you and the bulbasaur can bond over. This can be anything from battles, to sun bathing, playing sports, games, swimming, running or digging, and everything in between. Bulbasaur naturally are great foragers and tend to like to snaffle about in long grass and shrubland, hiding treats like berry slices in a secure environment is good enrichment and can tire the pokemon out. a tired pokemon is usually a little less aggressive, having lower energy levels and less want to expend attacks. this process also associated you with something fun, and your scent will be on the treats too, so they'll know you were the one to provide this activity for them.   

I’d also take plenty of time to observe the bulbasaur, as your sister got them on a whim, they probably had no prior knowledge of the species, or how to correctly care for them. In a month, a health complaint could have begun to show, so observe their colouration, feet, walking gait, sleeping patterns, feeding habits, and general behaviour. Excess scratching, heavy breathing, or unusual shaking or moving can suggest a health condition is starting to take form. Most can be helped if caught early, but some illnesses give the pokemon discomfort, and can lead to snappy tempers and irritability. It could be that this individual is in pain, or finding life difficult due to its health, which can cause a lot of hostility as i’m sure anyone would agree. It can suck to be sick!

This species can be won over if you can prove you have a skill of worth to them. This is the case with a lot of pokemon, having respect for something they cannot do, and learning that they need things from you can lead to them at least tolerating us humans. Its a foot in the door. A trick i like t use with particularly difficult bulbasaur is to give them their fav food, whatever it is, then put it in a clear container the pokemon cannot open. They have no thumbs, and their vines though dexterous, aren't able to open every kind of container. The pokemon will want whats inside, and be unable to access it. they will eventually give up out of frustration. this is where you come in. enter the space, don’t let your pokemon approach as this can be threatening, and open the container. leave it on the floor open, making sure they've watched you get the thing open. They can then approach and enjoy their fav food, all thanks to you and those wondrous thumbs you have. repeating this process yields good results, and starts a mutual relationship of tolerance and acceptance between you and a bulbasaur. Most will accept they want the food more than they want you gone, and you provide something they can’t get to. whatever you do, don’t let them see that you were the one to lock the food up in the container. Get a friend to do it, or do it in the room, and leave it in place on the floor, before allowing the bulbasaur to enter and investigate the item. If they see you're the one doing it, the trick is foiled, and your back to square one. Eventually this does tend to lead to the pokemon becoming less stressed with you around them, and eventually it leads to trust, and even friendship. This trick is good to use to get them use to you, once they're ok with you being around them because of your use to them, they may start to take food from you directly, engage in play, or even just sit and tolerate company for short periods of time. Do not expect this to be quick, but it does usually do the trick. 

Regardless, i do have concern that the pokemon may want to be with its own, should you discuss this and find they're not interested in being housebound and a pet, feel free to send them our way, we had exactly this situation in mind when setting up the islands facilities, and have extensive locations designed with grass pokemosn needs at the forefront. Theres a small herd of about 12 bulbasaur evolutions that live north of our labs, no people see them, they are happy as a unit, and are left alone to go about their lives, with the only interactions between humans being us giving them their yearly health check, or should we spot them with an issue, we may intervene. They live away from others and pretty much free, in a poacher safe environment. Its not ideal, we like to keep pokemon in areas they come from, with people who love them, and you show great concern for the pokemon so it would be a shame to have to let them go, BUT sometimes thats just life, and theres nothing to be done about it other than accepting that the pokemons wants come first. They may just be mistrusting so try everything else first, and see how you go. hopefully you’ll yield some results from this all. Good luck out there trainer. 

[peppermintbee]

OMORI has poor writing (Part 1)

OMORI stans, just block the #omori hate tag now because I’m going to use it to vent my frustrations with this game. If you love this game, I am not going to try to convince you otherwise. I am glad you enjoyed it so much. I am glad it means a lot to you. I’m not here to take that away from you. I honestly wish I felt the same way!

However, if you are like me and finished the game feeling disappointed, underwhelmed, and maybe a little frustrated, then I am here to say you are not alone. OMORI--while having the right set pieces for an interesting game--is a narrative mess.

I’m splitting this into two posts. This first post is about problems with the plot. The second is about problems with the message/moral. 

(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)

Spoilers and criticism below.

Part 1: Plot Writing Lies

There’s a book by Brian McDonald called Invisible Ink which is about how to write a compelling story (you can read this great book online for free here). There’s an explanation of the writing “lie” that I find myself frequently thinking of. A “lie” in this context does not mean something is literally untrue, it means something FEELS untrue, unrealistic, improbable, or unlikely. For example, if a character gets shot in the leg but manages to do parkour, this is a “lie” since it seems unrealistic for that to happen. If a character witnesses their beloved parent’s death and shrugs it off, it’s a “lie” because that reaction seems highly unlikely.

In OMORI, the plot is held together by multiple little lies that--try as I might--I just couldn’t bring myself to believe.

1. Sunny’s friends care about him, and vice versa

A major theme of the game is how friendship can overcome any obstacle. Friendship gets Sunny over his fear of heights, spiders, and water. Friendship is what Sunny remembers before the final boss fight, and allows him to face his guilt and defeat it (and prevent him from committing suicide). With the photobook and dialogue you are reminded over and over and over and over and over again that Sunny’s friends love him unconditionally.

However, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it. The childhood memories are cute but shallow, boiling down to simply hanging out and eating treats. Plus, Kel and Aubrey fight constantly, with Aubrey even physically hitting Kel when he steps out of line. Hero and Mari behave more like babysitters than true friends to the younger kids. 

But at least the other kids interact with each other. Sunny, on the other hand, showed nearly no affection or consideration towards his friends. He floats through the memories like a ghost--he could have been completely absent from all the photos and it would have made little difference. I was ready to accept this as Sunny being an unreliable narrator and not thinking he was a good enough for his friends, but this never contradicted. Instead we are given even more memories where Sunny just silently exists there being “cute.”

[Sunny enriching the lives of his friends by LARPING as a cat.]

Because of the lack of meaningful interactions between them, there was nothing in the game that made me think that these 12-15 year olds would have a strong enough bond that would survive 3-4 years of no contact after finding their friend hanged. In fact, that discovery only drove them farther apart. The only person who I could believe actually had a close bond was Basil, who almost literally filled that trope of being the friend who would help you bury a body (or in this case, help Sunny cover up the accidental manslaughter).

The writing fix for this would be simple: instead of showing us the same boring birthday and beach scenes over again, give the kids memories of overcoming some age-appropriate adversity together: heartbreak over an unrequited crush, anxiety over homework, sports injury, lost dogs, divorced parents, running away from home, bullying, etc. Set a precedent of the friends supporting each other through good times AND bad times. Without such backstory, Sunny’s friendships allegedly giving him the courage to overcome his guilt feels like a lie.

2. Sunny abandoning Basil in the bathroom scene

One of the most confusing moments in the game was Sunny’s negligence when Basil has his first breakdown in his bathroom. This part of the game is player-controlled, which is a strange writing decision because all you can do is click on Basil and various bathroom amenities over and over which completely saps the urgency out of the scene. When you try to leave, Basil begs Sunny to stay, but (due to a lack of player options) Sunny walks out without a word. With no option to talk to him OR get help for him, it makes Sunny seem exceptionally cruel to Basil. In fact, I was starting to wonder if the game was setting up for some sort of twist that Sunny DIDN’T care about his friends, which would fix some of the confusion in point #1. However, as we know, that is not the case. Therefore, Sunny’s negligence/apathy towards Basil’s pain feels like a lie.

The writing fix would be to make it MORE clear that Sunny is intentionally running away from Basil. Make it a cutscene, or, give a false choice such as “Leave Basil? Yes / Yes”. After Sunny leaves, Kel should make some remark about Sunny looking odd, “You look sort of shaken up, is there something you want to tell me?” then hit it home with Sunny shaking his head. This would make it more clear that Sunny is intentionally hiding Basil’s state, as opposed to just being a bad friend. As it stands, it just felt like a writing mistake.

3. Basil and Sunny working together to stage Mari’s death as a suicide

This is the plot hole that I see the most complaints over, but it’s so big I have to address it. Accidentally pushing Mari down the stairs I understand, but the rest is too absurd. Below are some of the “lies” that the writing tries to get away with:

That Sunny and Basil wouldn’t just claim she slipped and fell.

That either boy would even come up with this sick plan.

That they wouldn’t back out of this idea during the multi-step process (carrying her downstairs, outside, getting the jump rope, tying a noose, putting it around her neck, stringing her up, hiding the evidence... This is a series of multiple decisions, not one quick accident like the initial push.)

That it’s not the image of Mari’s death that traumatized Sunny, but the image of what they chose to do to her body that traumatized them. I understand the image of Mari hanging is more dramatic, but they literally did it themselves so why is that more haunting than Sunny killing her?

That Mari’s true cause of death wouldn’t be immediately obvious to the parents, the police, the friends, EVERYONE. (I’ve seen fans try to get rid of this plot hole by hypothesizing that the parents knew and covered it up, but the evidence of this is circumstantial at best. The father saying, “You’re not my son,” is unreliable since it happens in Sunny’s headspace. Divorce is common after the death of a child, and, at the very least, Sunny’s mom doesn’t show any evidence of knowing what happened. The way it is written, only Sunny and Basil know the truth.)

The ridiculousness of this twist is so extreme that it completely broke any immersion I had left. Frankly, the reveal that the happy, loveable Mari committed suicide is a far heavier and more realistic twist than a crazy murder-cover-up story is.

Additionally, it seems like Basil was only written into this scene in order to make Sunny the true victim of what happened. After all, Sunny may have pushed her, but it was Basil who came up with the demented cover up. (This is apparent from just the photos but the datamined Truth Album confirms it.) By having Basil come up with the plan, the game splits the guilt between the two of them to make the kids easier to sympathize with. It’s problematic because if Basil was not in the scene, there would be no way to justify what Sunny did to Mari. So why is what they did easier to accept when they worked together?

Fixing the writing lie: Sunny lies and says that Mari slipped. Remove Basil from the scene, and instead have Sunny confide in Basil which forces Basil to become a co-conspirator and burdens him with the terrible truth.

4. Sunny’s friends forgiving him and Basil for what they did to Mari

Last but not least, the story heavily implies that Hero, Kel, and Aubrey will forgive Basil and Sunny for what they did to Mari. I found this to be almost as unbelievable as the staged-suicide stunt.

It feels like a lie since the group’s friendship is never established as anything beyond shallow hang outs from 3+ years ago (see point #1).

It feels like a lie because this is hot off the heels of Aubrey being so distraught over Mari and the following fall out that in the last three days she 1.) attacked Sunny and Kel with a nail bat TWICE, 2.) Stole Basil’s photobook, and 3.) Shoved Basil in the lake. This trauma is still very fresh for her.

It feels like a lie because the complexity of the staged-suicide is so extreme, one would be hard pressed to forgive ANYONE for doing that, be it friend, foe, parent, sibling, lover, etc.

I’ve seen fans argue that the ending is not about forgiveness, it’s about telling the truth, and I want to believe that. Really. If the ending was about Sunny starting his redemption arc by telling the truth no matter what the consequences are, that would be a meaningful lesson. But the writing does not support that. The ending headspace segments are focused on assuring Sunny that his friends will support/forgive him no matter what. To do this, the game shows us the shallow photobook memories (again) to show how much they allegedly care about each other. Then, when fighting Omori, Sunny remembers these quotes from his friends, which directly correlate to their unconditional support:

KEL: Friends... Friends are supposed to be there for each other.

AUBREY: I hope you can find some peace... or you know... some happiness.

HERO: We made the mistake of leaving each other when we needed each other the most. This time... we’ll stay together.

BASIL: Maybe one day... things can go back to the way they were before.

The really direct evidence that this ending is about getting forgiveness is this quote from Basil in Sunny’s headspace:

[BASIL: “AUBREY, KEL and HERO are good friends. You have to trust that they’ll forgive us.”]

This is one of the last scenes before Sunny tells his friends the truth, proving that obtaining forgiveness from his FRIENDS is in fact the leading motivation for Sunny’s actions.

Fixing this writing lie is easy. Instead, adjust the writing to be about telling the truth, not about how much the friends will still love Sunny. Have headspace Basil say, “Even if they don’t forgive us, Aubrey, Kel, and Hero deserve to know the truth. It’s the only way to make things right... or close to it.”

Conclusion

OMORI is undeniably a cute game with a strong visual identity, and has a premise that could make for a very compelling experience. However, the sloppy plot and weak character writing cause the potential of this game to be squandered. There are other issues as well that I chose not to cover for the sake of time, such as the poor pacing of the dragged out dungeons and the bizarre, unrealistic behavior of characters in the “real” world. 

However, there are a few more glaring problems with OMORI that I have to address: In part 2 of my critique, I break down what may be the biggest problem with OMORI’s writing: the message.

[ Link to Part 2: OMORI’s Message is Mishandled and Distasteful ]

[makingspiritualityreal]

Numerology Life Path 3 - Your Birth Card and its Ruling Planet

Numerology Life Path Numbers and their assigned Tarot Card Meaning Series

This is a post in my astrology/numerology/tarot series, that only concerns you, if you are a Life Path 3. Posts on consecutive Life Path Numbers will follow. Originally, I wanted to do them all in one post, but my writing turned out to be so long, I decided to split the post and seperate the Life Path Numbers. The introduction part of the post will be the same for all Life Path Numbers, in case you only read a post about your own Life Path Number, and nothing else. 

Introduction   

The concept of a Birth Card links Tarot and Numerology together, in order to deepen our understanding of a vibration of a Life Path Number we are born with. The Birth Card, or rather Birth Cards, are Major Arcana Tarot Cards with assigned numbers, which correlate with Life Path Numbers. Understanding the meaning of tarot cards, mixed with the knowledge of Numerology Vibrations, helps create a more unique vision of your life experience.

A person with any given Life Path Number, having several Major Arcana energies present in their lives, usually struggles with one of the energies more than the other. As a result, life will probably force them to focus on mastering one of these energies. In general, however, any Life Path describes both your biggest downfall and ultimate triumph - just like with an Astrology Chart, the highlighted numbers/astrology houses point to your biggest strengths and weaknesses. For a better understanding of this concept, visit my article “Natal Chart - A map of your issues?”

Remember, that everyone, besides their Life Path Number and Birth Card also has a unique astrology chart. Thus, for some people embracing the higher expression of their energy is easier, for others it’s harder and it takes more time to master, and some energies become easier to deal with than others. Most human beings are somewhere in between, working on their path and having some achievements while struggling with difficulties at the same time. 

In the spiritual community, there are differences in opinion on linking Astrological Planets and positions to specific numerology numbers energies. My take is a result of my own personal experience, conversations with other people in my field and research, in order to give you the widest possible spectrum of ideas and increase the understanding of every Life Path Number.

If you are a Master Number 11, 22 or 33, there will be a seperate post on how the Birth Cards apply to you as well. 

Even If you have only a basic understanding of Astrology, Tarot or Numerology, this post will still be helpful to you, because it describes the unique vibrational mix that comes from the expression of both these spiritual sciences mixed together. To calculate which Tarot Cards and what Life Path correspond to your birthday, click here.

Life Path 3 - The Hanged Man, The Empress and The World

The vibration of the Life Path 3 is ruled by the expansive, benevolent energies of Jupiter. This gives this life path an optimistic zeal to pursue their goals, and a lot of energy for continuous, creative forward movement, fueled by Jupiter’s joyous nature. 

The downfall here, as with all things related to Jupiter is excess and lack of measure. The key to constant prosperity is knowing where to stop, and preserving the bigger picture perspective. No matter what Life Path number you are, life always carries ups and downs with it. Life Path 3s can take their highs as dramatically as their lows, which can make them give up, when things are no longer that easy. Their ups can take them anywhere they want to, but their lows can sink them into a spiral of self destructive behaviors.

Jupiter rulership can also result in an opposite outcome to its natural, benevolent energy. A Life Path 3 can easily become dejected and disillusioned, struggling to rediscover their inspiration, and pushing themselves, because they expect the same, high level of results. The negative experience of the Life Path 3 is feeling limited, infertile, insufficient, not good enough, blocked and restricted. This despair can lead them to try to adapt some survival philosophy, which can make them stick to a narrow minded approach, just to have something measurable to believe in, a spiritual code to give at least an illusion of meaning. The key with this Life Path is preserving a real, measurable level of faith in yourself and your path, and making sure you don’t allow yourself to drown in negativity energetically, even if life sends trials your way. 

Your optimism is as infectious as your depressive states are. Be aware of the power you carry, how you can influence not only yourself but everyone around you, and the fact that you can survive any storm through keeping your energetic flow intact, even when it’s challenging. Take any suffering you encounter as an adventure. Be careful not to overly dramatise and catastrophize. This is not something commonly talked about, but Jupiter not only gives blessing, but also expands every experience, both positive and negative. That means a Life Path 3 can make any problem worse in their head than it actually is, due to their tendency to go the extra mile, in any direction. As a Life Path 3, keep your head level, look for truth, a bigger picture and a deeper meaning in every situation, without letting yourself be overwhelmed by it. For you more than for any other Life Path, it’s about the process, not the goal. 

We look for answers on the manifestation of the Life Path 3 energy through assigned Birth Cards.

The World - A card emblematic of the expansive energy of Jupiter. Represents infinity, limitless possibilities. Being the last Major Arcana card, it’s the ultimate outcome of our spiritual journey, where we feel enriched and blessed by the wisdom of all the experiences, that we encountered on the way, no matter how hard they could have been at times. This is the philosophy, that mature Life Path 3s embrace in life, that allows them to reach the heights, that other people admire them for. Nothing says “the world is your oyster” quite like The World card, because it has the wisdom and the perspective of all the previous Major Arcana energies. Having transcended and mastered the process of the spiritual growth journey, there is only perspective of infinity left in this stage, without the overwhelming emotional experience, that an initiate wrestles with in the middle of the growth process. This wisdom and serenity should be the guiding light for any Life Path 3.

The Hanged Man - Connected to the ability to expand through looking at things from a different perspective. It can also relate to the frustration element, that this Life Path can struggle with, the feeling of being stuck. However, it also points out how practical results for this Life Path are strongly dependent on their point of view. Life always leads to a crossroads at some point, and no one’s journey is perfectly smooth. The expansion, that Jupiter demands in this Life Path, requires having a varied experience, and that requires the open-minded and patient approach, that this Tarot card gives us. This is the tool of being measured and balanced for this Life Path - whenever a situation seems dire, look at it from another angle, and reflect upon it without constantly trying to push and exhaust yourself and rush forward. This is the pinch of restraint, that is necessary to hold Jupiter’s expansion together, the balancing, grounding, logical force, that humbles a Life Path 3 by constantly challenging them to keep growing through shifting their perception. 

The Empress - Reminds us, how powerful this Life Path is. Gives Jupiter a controlled, more directed flow. A mastered Life Path 3 will embrace Tarot’s gift in this card - focus and discipline. There is power in this Life Path being so happy-go-lucky, independent and expansive. However this, card reminds us, that good judgment, emotional self control and self-imposed limitations are equally necessary for Life Path 3s to succeed. The Empress is very creative, fertile, abundant and nourishing. She is the apex of divine feminine creativity. However, like a good mother, she knows when to reward and take care of the child, but also where to set the limits. This card gives a Life Path 3 the skill to keep themselves in check, in order to avoid going overboard and spiralling into self-destruction. 

As a Life Path 3, remember that the world needs your energy to keep going, not just to rush forward, but to exist in the moment with a mindset of abundance. Don’t forget, that for you more than for anyone how you look at things will determine the quality of your experience. There is a lot of power in this, because it gives you a high level of freedom. Don’t always rush forward. Take a break, pause, inhale, exhale. Enjoy the fresh breath of energy that you are, and spread it around, and you will always have that positivity come back to you in the end.

[simonalkenmayer]

Obviously humanity has changed significantly over the years in which we have communicated and the cultures and religions we develop, but has humanity changed in any physical way? Like walking different or any vestiges of a much older version of humanity?

Oh yes. Yes yes. In fact one thing that’s been amazing to behold are the sorts of changes that have come about simply because of nutrition.

One I always discuss is how populations with certain conserved regions of DNA from various hominid species react when refined sugar is introduced to their area through trade. For example, after Japan opened up and stopped being isolationist, and trade truly began to increase to the west, average height leapt upward. Another would be these bodies we see on movies. Let’s use the superheroes as an example. Marvel’s Thor and Captain America and Starlord and so one can only achieve those body types through exceptionally managed diets. I read recently they were only allowed to eat a handful of almonds for dinner while filming. That’s absurd, obviously unmanageable for any real person for any length of time. They’re also dehydrated. Point is, the human body could never ever, before this era, navigate nutrition the way it does today. Those body types with all the muscles were impossible on regional diets. A good example of this is how people of African descent genetically processed carbohydrates or fats. And so on.

Nutrition is just far better today. Better comprehended, better managed, better supplied. Here’s another example: we now know that childhood nutrition is critical, and we know what kind of nutrition must be had to build a human brain to maximum efficiency. The nutrition a mother and child get during pregnancy and for the first five years after are absolutely critical to establish all the necessary immunities, brain development and so on. This is one way that socioeconomics and therefore racism plays into life. If a person lives in an underprivileged community that has poor access to good nutrition, and the parents cannot gain nutrition through government based programs, that child is being given less of a chance to develop the strength, stamina, and even neuronal development it needs. It might have a direct physical impact on their abilities later in life. Combine this with other factors in communities with less money, like worse conditions, lack of heat, stress, poor enrichment due to schools being underfunded, lack of good quality childcare, and so on, and you are crippling people, obviously keeping them in a preset status to be exploited forever, perpetually. I would absolutely love to see what change could be achieved if every socioeconomic group below the poverty line had guaranteed stable and state-of-the-art nutrition only, for two generations. I can promise you there’d be a massive change in reality.

So yes, nutrition alone has changed your life expectancy, your height, weight, body fat, even your appearance. Teeth and bones are better, senility and decrepitude later in life is less common. Degenerative conditions, less common. Better mental acuity. Better endurance and strength. Lower body stress in terms of food. That one factor alone has been amazing to see.

So yes. You’ve changed profoundly in my lifespan. You’re taller, faster, stronger, longer lived, more intellectually swift, better coordination, better social structures, better hygiene, medicine, and on and on. Even your color is changing, as people become more socially accepting of mixing, which by the way, will strengthen your genes.

I’ve seen much change.

[ladyeliot]

It’s been a long, long time 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never knew what fate had in store for you, as if it was testing what it had offered you one day it took away from you the next. It was almost four years after Steve gave himself up to save the world, but you had never given up hope of being with him again.

Warnings: Angst. Disappearance. Fluff ending.

Word count: 2883

A/N: Captain America First Avenger / Avengers Endgame. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Song: It’s been a long, long time - Harry James

1949.

The rumours of his possible return were fading with time, but hopes were not falling.

Nearly four years had passed since the end of the Second World War, and the consequences were soon felt worldwide, especially by those who had survived that tragic period. You had been present from start to finish, being a potent participant in the covert operations linking the US and the UK. Although you had not been on the front line fighting as a soldier, you had been on the front line commanding the actions they would take. In 1939 you became a member of the British Royal Military, then a recommendation from a superior officer led to you joining the Special Operations Executive, a British spy agency, changing your destiny, causing MI5 to contact you, and then you were seconded to the Strategic Scientific Reserve, a top-secret Allied war agency during World War II, created by President Roosevelt. Too many things happened in a single year, too many things that would change the course of your history, but the most important was yet to happen.

In 1943 you were assigned to Colonel Chester Phillips' training base, known as Camp Lehigh, where you were assigned to supervise the candidate division of Project Renaissance, the project that changed everything. Project Renaissance was a highly secret project run by the United States Government. Its aim was to create super soldiers to be deployed during World War II against the Axis powers, thus having a great advantage in strategic warfare, however things didn't go as planned and they only had one success, a young man from Brooklyn named Steve Rogers.

You could never deny that you didn't notice him the first moment you saw him, he instantly caught your attention in two ways. The first of them was his physical shape, he stood out for his small stature compared to the other cadets, and his physical appearance looked sickly, although his medical record didn't say anything about it. On the other hand, the other aspect that impressed and inspired you was his courage and endurance to face each of the tests they had to pass, as well as his cunning, all of which won you over, as well as the generals of the project, as he was selected for the Renaissance project. The time you spent together at Camp Leigh made you realise the determination and humility he possessed, traits that the other members of the group, or any other man you had met before, possessed only to a slight degree.

The day the experiment was carried out, that is, the injection of the Super Soldier serum into Steve was another turning point in your life, the young man who went into that machine was not the same as the one who would come out of it, at least for everyone present, a human being went in and a super soldier came out, although for you he was still the same Steve Rogers with 30 centimetres more height and greater muscle mass. From then on he became the secret weapon that would overthrow Hitler, as the leader of the project, Dr. Erskine, was killed which meant that Steve was the only one of his kind.

You would have liked to have been able to say that your relationship was moving towards a more effective environment, but you were really living in a period of war, plus your character did not easily fit in with the word love, it never really did, or rather, you had never shown any interest in any man. You were rude, you had suffered enough harassment in your job, a job by and for men, to become insensitive in several cases. You were selective with your friends and also with the people you could trust, that's why every time you felt any affection for someone you stopped it, and that's what happened with Steve at the beginning.

Frankly, there were not too many moments to show your affection for each other, nor to enrich it, but every occasion that brought you together, there were certain feelings in the air that were never expressed in words. You encouraged him to be more than a lab rat or a fair hand for the soldiers at the front, you also helped him from your position with the missions, which after his triumph in rescuing the soldiers of the 107th infantry, were assigned to him. You complemented each other, you understood each other in many aspects that no one had ever understood, you had faith in him and he in you, that is why deep inside you were waiting for the day when the war would end to discover what it would be like to be able to dance with him without any worries around you, but it was not that simple.

As if the universe itself was mocking you, everything it had offered you was taken away in a breath. Even if you had never extrapolated it, your heart shrank every time he marched on a mission in enemy territory, you used to find yourself behind the controls of the base of operations that commanded his missions waiting for his voice or news from him to indicate what the situation was, but the last time what you saw was different. It was all a consequence of your attack on HYDRA HQ, you had worked out a strategy to take out their leader, the Red Skull, Steve was inside and you later came in with the assault guard and became part of the operation. Things had gone a little shaky during the operation, as the Red Skull managed to gain access to a ship and almost escaped from the place, but at that moment you appeared as if you were a breath of air together with Colonel Chester Phillips to offer him the last chance for Steve to finish him off and gain access to the inside of the ship that was about to escape, but not before sharing your first and last kiss. Every day you remember the last words you said to him in person "Go get him." before watching him jump into the plane and disappear into the snowy mountains.

After that, the ship became a direct path to death unbeknownst to you. A few hours later, from the command post, you managed to maintain a direct connection with the ship, specifically with Steve who was still inside it.

"Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?" you all heard from the intercom.

"Steve, is that you? Are you alright?" your heart raced as it did every time he was away from you on a mission.

"Y/N! Schmidt's dead.

That brought a breath of relief that neither of you had experienced for a long time, you could see a little light at the end of the tunnel that was getting closer and closer to you, but what you heard next put the light out again.

"What about the plane?" you asked still worried about his situation.

"That's a little bit tougher to explain," Steve's words were choppy.

It really was complicated, the plane was loaded with explosive devices and was clearly headed for New York City, that meant there was only one possibility and you all knew what it was. You tried to talk him out of it, to find a new solution, but time was running out.

"Y/N, this is my choice," a lump formed in your throat at those words. "Y/N?"

"I'm here," you managed to say with watery eyes and a hand to your lips.

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance," you heard through the intercom, as a sharp gust of air rushed in between his words.

"Alright," you hid a soft sob. "A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."

"You got it," he said firmly, making it seem real that he was going to show up there on Saturday.

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance," a wistful smile appeared on your face at his words.

"I'll show you how. Just be there," you said almost begging him.

"We'll have the band play somethin' slow," Steve picked up the pace of his words, "I'd hate to step on your...

That was the last time you heard his voice, the line connecting the intercom to Steve went static with a soft continuous noise, that's when the tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

"Steve? Steve? Steve?"

Of course, life puts us all to the test, we believe we need redemption for the acts committed in the past, that often makes us lose hope that better times will come.  Almost four years have passed since those last events, since you shared your first and last kiss with your Captain America, since you heard his last words and since you felt that thing called love. Now your life had been turned upside down, you had dreamed for too long of meeting him, of seeing his face again and not only through those war films, but your life went on and you couldn't keep yourself stuck thinking about him, that's why you had decided to leave the Strategic Scientific Reserve and go into a new project with Howard Stark, called S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was unusual for the month of January to have that warm morning out, although it was actually quite comforting as it had brightened up your day, and even when you got home you opted to start cooking to the rhythm of whatever song was playing on the radio, which was unusual for you. The open windows allowed the sun's rays to stream into the living room, offering that homely touch that the little house in the middle of a residential neighbourhood lacked. Due to your countless projects and missions in the SSR you had not been able to enjoy home life as much as you would have liked, although it was really your decision, that house was too quiet and too big for you alone, although the radio offered you the company you sometimes needed.

As if it were a special event you had brought out the table linen and arranged the table in the parlour to eat there for the first time, normally you used the table in the kitchen, for you did not waste too much time on your meals, but this day was a new beginning, a new year, a good time to work out new habits. You opted to open a bottle of wine, which had been a gift from your dear friend Howard Stark, and poured yourself a glass while you waited for the chicken to make its acquaintance in the oven. The rhythmic melody of Nat King Cole along with your glass of wine lifted spirits that hadn't been this high for some time.

"Love is all that I can give to you," you intoned as you walked around the kitchen.

The midday seemed to be going smoothly, until a crashing noise from the front door brought you to a screeching halt. "Ogh, Mrs. Foster," you said to yourself before taking a sip from your glass of wine to fill your spirits. Mrs Foster was the neighbour from across the street who was always knocking on your door whenever she could, hoping to whisper about the other neighbours and glean as much information about you as possible, the funny thing was that she always barged in at the most inopportune times.

"I'm coming!" you exclaimed, taking off your apron and placing it on the counter. "I'm there!"

When you reached the front door you took five seconds to exhale the air inside you, position your dress correctly, take another breath, roll your eyes and expose a wide grin before you very quickly lowered the door handle. We've been talking before about all the turning points that changed your life and shaped your destiny, okay, that was one of them, maybe the most important one of all, the one that set the rest of your life on track.

"Hello Mrs. Fos-!"

Your voice disappeared, your vocal cords seemed to break at that moment, your wide, false smile also vanished as if it had never been on your face, your eyes seemed to have no eyelids and your lungs ran out of air, leaving you breathless. What you saw when you opened that door was your whole life, every moment appeared in front of you as if it were a frame. They say that happens when you are about to die, but it happened to you when the person you had loved had returned from the dead and was prostrate before you. You couldn't tell whether your reaction was the most humane or what someone else would have done in your place because you had never met anyone who had. Soldiers sometimes took long months to return home after the war ended, but it had taken Steve almost four years to do so.

Perhaps there had been hundreds or thousands of times you had imagined that moment, and now you didn't know what to do, your limbs were stiff, you were grateful for it or you would have collapsed in those moments. You kept holding the doorknob tightly, while he stood there on your porch staring at you, not knowing what to do. They were the longest minutes of your whole life, or maybe they were only a few seconds, you didn't know how time worked in those moments, but that didn't matter, your emotions recovered when you looked into his eyes, those blue eyes that you had dreamed of so many nights and they were watery, that was the sign that told you that this was not a dream, it was real life.

The air opened again and passed through your lungs in the form of a gasp, you shared the wateriness of his eyes in yours and in a moment you were wrapped in his arms. You could feel him again, or rather you could feel him around you for the first time. His arms were around your back bringing your body closer to his.

"You're... here." you murmured against his chest almost afraid that your words would make him disappear again.

"I'm home," he whispered against your forehead before kissing it and pulling away to look at your face.

It really was him, you noticed the odd changed feature, as if the years had passed him by more quickly, but there was no doubt that it was Steve. He placed his hands on your cheeks cradling your face, that sensation made you close your eyes as you placed your hands on his. Gingerly, you felt his breath collide against you and the longing for his lips that had haunted you for so many years came to an end.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

"No, you're home," you murmured, taking his hand and bringing his palm to your lips.

The open windows of the living room let out the melody of the radio, as if it were one of those Hollywood feature films with its own soundtrack. For a few long minutes you stood there on the porch of your house, oblivious to everything around you, oblivious to curious stares or if the chicken was burning in the oven, there was nothing more relevant than the two of you.

After a few minutes without taking your eyes off each other you took his hand and went inside your home, there were no unnecessary questions, no comments that could break the moment, your gazes were pleased to observe each other and as if your thoughts were connected and the person in charge of playing the songs on the radio knew it, one of Steve's favourite songs began to play. Harry James' voice came into the room, giving you the moment you had wanted for four years in your case, but for Steve it had been many more. 

“Never thought that you would be

Standing here so close to me

There's so much I feel that I should say

But words can wait until some other day”

His arm found position around your waist and your face found position on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat work to the rhythm of the melody, you could never have imagined ever feeling like this again, you would have made a pact with the devil on too many occasions to feel it. It was so unreal that you had to lift your face from his chest to look at his face again, to find out if it really was Steve in front of you, it was. 

“Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

Haven't felt like this, my dear

Since I can't remember when

It’s been a long, long time”

Life had offered you a new opportunity to enjoy it together, and you were never going to miss it.

“You'll never know how many dreams

I've dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time”

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket,Se03, Ep 8 (part 2)

I finally got my answer on how will kyo’s confession of kyoko will be & how tohru will react. I love the writing, the pacing, the monologue, the dialogue, the facial expressions, tohru’s reaction, kyo’s rejection & tohru’s shock. Even yuki & akito’s involvement! All of it was a chef’s kiss!

I went & watched lots of eps of se01 & 2 & I’m loving all the hints they dropped abt kyo & how his trauma was looming over him all. this. damn. time! Unfortunately, it has reminded me of how much tohru’s own character exploration was diminished in favor of her being the angelic mother & the sohma’s fixer! but moving on & focusing on her shining moment now! I’ll explore her character here with regards of her trauma, real hidden character & future development.

Kyo’s rejection is the best thing that has ever happened to tohru:

(don’t hate me before you read!) XD~ just like you, I’m mad at kyo for hurting tohru & I feel her pain. However, the writer didn’t write this with a sadistic desire to hurt us. Kyo’s rejection is the core of the entire story as it is not only connected to kyo’s trauma, but tohru’s growth & yuki’s emotional involvement with the two, as well as akito’s insecurities. I have explained in my review( part 1) how kyo rejecting tohru was a logical progression of kyo’s trauma, the only possible outcome from his perspective, & the themes tied with such decision. Now, I’ll explain why this rejection is good for tohru in the long run:

1. Showing the hidden ugly side: (The timid, shy, self-sacrificing girl is angry!): Tohru’s entire consciously constructed personality is borrowed from elements in her mom & dad’s life:

She mimicked her dad’s overly polite style to prove that she is indeed his daughter, so her mom won’t be called w*ore & to console her mom, so she wont leave her. She has deep low self-worth issues. I gotta become someone else to be loved.

she has inner fear of bringing shame to her mom’s name, wants to always be the good girl so mom’s get praised for raising her. Thus, hiding ugly aspects such as anger, loud voice & frustration.

She wants to prove that her mom chose right by not neglecting her. wishes to be worth needing & loving for her own self.

All she ever wanted since being a 4 year old child is her mom. No other desire for anything else at all. Since her mom’s death, she’s been lost on what to do, who to be, what to want! then it came to her to stick to her mom’s memory & live for her. Living for a dead person is a self-sacrifice decision. Tohru just didn’t see herself outside of her mom’s influence.  

Ever since meeting kyo, he has been encouraging real aspects of her character: be selfish, complain, cry, get mad, yell, look pathetic, expose unflattering thoughts, show undesirable side, ask for things, no, DEMAND things. She has been reluctantly following his advice & only showing that to him. His confession & inability to accept her love has lead her to show the real hidden tohru behind the “ i’m okay” mask:

The timid, always smiling girl is now showing anger, frustration, stubbornness & determination.

screaming her heart out: “ i don’t believe my mom would say that” stating her opinion in firm voice.

 “even if she did, I have to go against her” the real tohru shows her explosive personality that was buried deep down! it is NOT mom’s life anymore. It is MINE. I decide. I choose. I want. My decisions.

“ why can’t you see that?” argues with him. Tohru, who is soft-spoken & tends to get flustered  when others insist, is now questioning his decision with passion & fierceness!

“ I love you no matter what”. Say what toy want. look at yourself as a monster, a murderer, a loser or a coward. I don’t care what your brain or trauma makes you think. I see the real YOU & it is my decision! I love you ugly & pretty, sad & happy, broken or strong, coward or brave. I take it all & no one is fooling me or changing my mind. I’m my own person & I chose YOU. 

 2. Letting go of attachments: Learning to LIVE:

Tohru’s attachment to her mom isn’t healthy. It’s  toxic as it hinders her from being her own person. To be able to love kyo, she lets go of “ listening to mommy’s words” . Apparently, her mom condemned kyo as unforgivable. Tohru knows the real kyo & doesn’t even care for forgiveness despite her mom’s alleged words. Breaking the toxic bond. She formed a healthier bond with kyo. However, if kyo is unable to accept this love. what would tohru do? die?? kill herself?? kyoko wasn't able to continue to love her husband cuz he died. her reaction was neglecting her daughter & roaming away in utter grief. Tohru mustn’t follow her mom’s example. Not all loved ones leave us out of hate. Some leave each other cuz of death (kyoko/tohru), ( kyoko/ katsuya), Others might leave each other out of current traumatic pain, mental health, emotional hindrance despite loving each other so dearly (kyo/tohru). If kyo despite his immense love to tohru, can’t forgive himself, they won’t be together. tohru can cry, scream, yell, but if he doesn't overcome his issues & come back, tohru gotta let go. She gotta learn to let go & not kill herself over what she cant have.

Kyo, on the opposite, gotta learn to hold on to loved ones! Let go of pain but hold on to real ppl not dead ghosts of the past. He must learn to act on his own desire & need for tohru. Only when he forgives himself, he’ll hold on to her. It is then, that tohru will decide again if she’ll have him or not.

3- Wanting things doesn't mean you WILL have them: (You are enough by yourself- moderation)

tohru wants kyo, the first thing she has ever wanted. However, she won’t  automatically get him just because she now learned to demand things. There are obstacles that can stop that. Tohru must accept kyo’s inability to be with her now & live healthily regardless. This ties to akito as well. She wants the zodicas but she cant have them! Emotional distance separate them. What will akito do if she can’t have what she wants? kill kurno? kill tohtru? kill herself? will this bring the zodiacs back? NO. You are enough by yourself. She needs to let go & learn to accept that love means acceptance between the involved parties, emotional connection isn't enough.

-Realistic depiction of romantic relationship progression: (thro better & worse). EPIC writing!

It is indeed fate that brought tohru back in kyo’s path 4 months after her mom’s death & the they do share a mutual past: kyoko. However, fervor grateful to the author for writing them falling in love together isn’t due to fate, coincidence, mutual past or similar personalities. Kyo consciously avoided tohru while tohru herself struggled to understand kyo initially. The author spend valuable time building their romantic relation based on mundane daily life activities. They themselves don’t quite know when exactly that they fell in love. when they recalled falling in love, we see them cooking together, talking, walking, eating, studying & opening up abt small struggles.

It is genius that the writer will add yet another realistic aspect. While kyo was able to read tohru & approach her when she’s down, this doesn't mean he magically understood her & will forever be on the same page & never ever hurt each other at all. If you fell in love, you are bound to be hurt by the person who loves you back as much as be happy together. It is realistic!!! Adding miscommunication & personality differences enrich the relationship. This relationship isn’t just fluffy & lovey dovey. They have realistic issues that they need to work on by communicating. Even communication  wont solve their quarrel if it isn’t done in the right time & with the right desire to connect.

-The weight & future lessons learned from of “ I’m disappointed in you” for both kyo & tohru:

Right now kyo is too emotional to connect & tohru herself is too emotional to understand his response. Tohru understands his pain but her low self-esteem prevents her from seeing that he is rejecting being loved , not rejecting her. He is not rejecting tohru as a person but rejecting kyo as a person deserving love. Thanks to his “ i’m disappointed in you” which really leaves no room for interpretation from tohru’s perspective. I love that!!!! Kyo isn’t good with words. This has been clear from ep 1, his actions has always been his love language, but now he couples bad words “ i’m disappointed in you” with bad actions: running away. This is a perfect opportunity to build their future relationship on a solid foundation: ( off course I’m not belittling their current emotions, I understand why each is very broken now, but I’m talking abt future learning lessons)

Kyo’s current mistake: While him rejecting tohru is justified by the extreme trauma & is logical from his perspective. This doesn’t mean it isnt’t hurtful to her. He chose hurtful words to push her away mimicking how he pushed her in the true form arc. Perfect example of justified mistake yet still a wrong mistake. Thus, kyo needs to learn the effect of his words, he shouldn’t be punished for the past, for tings her cant control, nor for fate. But he should take responsibilities of the present, of what he actually says & does right now.  He must fix this mistake with tohru. This is a mistake that CAN be fixed. someone that he CAN get back. a mistake he CAN stop repeating.He CAN hold on to her with immense desire yet allow room for her to decide for herself.

Tohru’s current mistake: Seeing herself solely thro being loved by kyo. she cant see that he indeed loves her cuz he rejected her. Rejection in tohru’s mind equal lack of love. Her mom left her, thus her mom didnt love her. This respective is very justified due to her trauma, & it is logical that she reached this conclusion. She isnt in his head, she cant know whats in his heart if his words say sth else. However, having a logical perspective doesn't mean it is right. it is still wrong to solely exist thro what you can see & hear. Real emotions run deeper. We must take things with moderate approach. Tohru needs to have higher self-esteem, to allow room for misunderstanding without completely breaking down. In her future life, she’ll be in lots of situations where ppl could hurt her intentionally or unintentionally. She needs to take things with calmer pace & open the door in her mind for doubt & better judgement. As much as loved ones words hurt, to build a healthy relationship, you must leave room for communication & misunderstanding. Hence, you’ll get closer & closer. 

Side Notes:

 I love tohru’s faulty attachment thro only being loved back exactly as she pictures in her mind. it is so human, so real, & so endearing! Very opposite of se01 & 2 image of her being the wise, device-giving mother with right thing to say & do. Screw that unrealistic image! allow tohru to be real! best ep ever! Hopefully, no more of this tohru!

Kyo’s constant repeat of mistakes is the best character trope done right! so realistic. It is genius that the author used this trope to humanize the demonic cat spirit!! what screams human better than the most annoying human trait: repeating mistakes!!!!  Kyo, my son! it’s time to learn! cant wait to see how the author will do that.

young boy/ adult woman friendship? Was that ever made without  disgusting sexualizion? kyoko isnt much of a mom figure to kyo, she tells me abt a husband, child neglect mistakes, custody! he calls her old hag & pushes her! XD. it is friendship!!

i’m mad they didnt focus on tohru’s face when she screamed at kyo confessing her love.. that's tohru moment. Why pan on yuki? you could’ve showed his reaction after she spoke. The same thing was done when tohru confessed to Isuzu!-_-! loved her angry face tho, it was beautifully drawn, so thanks for that. XD

Yuki is forever the best tohru/kyo shipper & the best tohru-happiness defender. I love how he runs after kyo & yet checks on tohru! I’m curious tho, he didnt hear any of kyo/kyoko confession as he was asleep, only the the “ forgive/not forgive line” so, he’ll be wondering forgive what? tohru’s mom knows kyo? I’m excited on how they’ll put things into context. also, I LOVE YUKI.

I’m forever thankful that everything akito is pushed into next ep. The knife wielding action & akito’s dramatic outbursts would’ve stolen from the emotional weight of kyo’s confession. Kyo’s secret is the core of furuba since ep, 1, the entire dynamics of kyo/tohru/yuki /kyoko/ hat is established based on this ep. Shoving akito, too, would create the same annoying train bullet feeling of momiji’s & tohru’s ep (ep 5 & 6). Emotional scenes pushed together with lesser time for the respective characters to have their well-deserved focus.

This is the most I am attached & satisfied with furuba! it scares me since ep 9 continues the climax. My fears of potential dramatic animation since the knife is there! moreover, akito’s own animation is always over the top. I hope they tone it down to portray her as a human more than a maniac.

Also, I hope they dont drag the climax more than that. What more you can shove in the dramatic raining weather. Tohru/kyo scene here matched the true arc scene bringing back parallel. Now akito/tohru raining scene next ep will match se02, ep10 scene. Now, what will the author do to defuse the climax? Often writing the falling action is harder than the climax itself. Falling action doesnt mean happy times & solving issues. It means dealing with the consequences of the climax. Let’s see what the writer has in store.

Based on the flashbacks, Kyoko didnt have ill feelings with kyo!!!! Until the last time he saw her as a child, she was happy with him. Even when he pushed her, she took it as a childlike behavior. at the accident, she didnt have much time to have any ill feelings. No way she thought he pushed her, no way she thought he could’ve saved her. So if she really recognized him, why would she say “ I wont forgive you”? it doesnt make sense at all. Kyoko doesn't hate kyo!!!! So, either he imagined, which is sth that I’ll hate so much! I spent so much emotions attached to a non existant words! NO. plz! NO!! Other possibility, she said sth else closer to the words! but then again how would we know? I NEED to know! ~ as expected, I’m still attached to this damn line! XD. 

Kyo depressed in the mountains after kyoko’s death was very vaguely referenced in (1) se01, ep24 when kyo talked to kazuma! oh shoot! (2) in se02, sp 2 when kazuma thought back to kyo nearly killing himself in depression before meeting the dad, (3) in se02, ep 9 when kyo trampled on the flower! oof! i love this subtle style of writing! connecting the emotional dots! EPIC!

Various characters throut seasons 1, 2 & 3 noticed the real gentle kyo towards tohru: (1) Isuzu’s “ I hope tohru meets someone like haru, to gently open the door” se02, ep19. (2) Momiji having faith that kyo is the right person for tohru & pushing him, (3) yuki constantly musing over tohru/kyo love & drawing inspiration on wanting “ his own person to love like them” (3) Kisa saying kyo is kind to tohru se3, (4) shigure saying, you are exclusively kind to tohru se02, (5) Airisa saying, when will kyo confess in se01, (6) hana saying, marry my sister in the play & pushing him to not be locked! (7) yuki kicking him for saying “ its not your business” to tohru in kyoto trip, (8) kakeru saying “ kyo’s her boyfriend? “ AA~~~~ the whole cast know & can see his love to her!!! TOHRU! He doesnt hate you! KYO!! the entire cast thinks you DESERVE HER & is KIND! not a monster! Is there an image set of those moments of the cast saying that here in tumblr? kindly mention me to see it! I fear going to the tags & seeing spoilers T_T.

[the-panmixxia]

Logan Accidentally Steals Two (2) Children - Chapter 1; Itsy Bitsy

Original Link (by me!)

Rating: Gen

Characters: Logan, Remy, Virgil

Ship: (eventual) Logan x Janus

Summary: Logan Sanders is so excited to study this exciting new creature that's been discovered! The spider-like creature is very interesting, and oddly adorable.

A few weeks later, a similar situation arises when an octopus like creature is discovered.

But surely they couldn't know each other. They aren't sentient. They're not related, and they definitely don't have an overprotective (and oddly attractive) snake parent looking for them. Nope, definitely not.

(or, how Logan became part of a monster family)

Warnings: Spider, accidental kidnapping, laboratory

(fic is not in this font)

Logan was quite excited to get to work, he'd received a very exciting opportunity, and had been emailing his superiors all night about the discovery.

What discovery? A new species. One that couldn't be categorised on site, and could even be its own genus with how unique it was. And it was being sent to his lab. He had to physically fight the urge to disregard the speed limit, allowing himself to smile whilst alone. Just think of all the research he could achieve!

The most important part was learning and observing as much as he could about the creature. It's reported as non-sapient and so is being held in a secure enclosure, kept in the darkness had the creature going to sleep, so Logan at least knew the creature wasn't nocturnal. As far as anyone knew, this was the only creature of its kind--data would need to be collected on the best diet, suitable enrichment, enclosure temperature and humidity, along with all its biometric data to ensure they can keep it healthy.

Driving past the barriers, Logan parked his car in his usual spot, and he gathered his things - briefcase, jacket, smartphone, keys - before making his way inside. He stopped at the receptionist's desk, smiling politely, if a little wider than usual due to his excitement.

"Hello, Dot. I was told you'd have some paperwork for me?"

Dot chuckled with a nod, standing up to go and search a filing cabinet. The woman was meticulous in her organisation, which Logan appreciated - regardless, the two got on very well.

"Ah, yes, Professor Sanders. The only person that gets excited over paperwork. Here it is, dear" she slid him a dark blue file, and a form on top to confirm he'd collected said file. Logan swiftly filled it out, sliding it back over.

"Thank you, Dot. I would love to chat, but I've got something very important to do, so-"

Dot simply waved him off with a smile, and Logan was grateful. He wasn't the best at navigating social situations, and was unsure if excusing himself was going to cause upset.

Regardless, he made his way to his work station, knowing the new specimen was already there, taking the time standing in the elevator to skim over the paperwork given to him. It contained notes on everything they knew about the creature, which was pretty minimal. It was arachnid at first glance, although it's appearance was more akin to the mythical Drider, with at least part of it lacking an exoskeleton and instead having body hair. It was black with a purplish shine - Logan would presume it lived in some form of cave system because of, assuming the colouring was to appear as a coruscating gem to either hide or hunt.

Logan tucked the file under his arm, taking a breath to steel himself as he entered. His lab assistant, Remington Alvas (a student from the local University on work placement), was half asleep in his usual chair, jacket thrown over himself, earphones in, glasses still on with phone in his hand. It was a regrettably common site. Logan cleared his throat, then spoke slightly louder than usual.

"Goodmorning, Remington"

The student jerked awake, almost launching his phone across the room, and Logan allowed himself a small smile at the bemused expression.

"Logan! Shit bag, you're going to frighten me to death one of these days."

He was quick to put his personal belongings away in a metal locker, removing his blazer and replacing it with a crisp white lab coat, fresh from the steriliser. He was rather fond of the sassy student, who didn't seem to take offence or mock his more than lacking social skills and encouraged the otherwise stoic professor to engage in some healthy, engaging 'banter'

"It is highly improbable to 'scare someone to death', even if they had considerable cardiovascular conditions before hand; which, to my knowledge, you do not" as though scared Remy was hiding a secret fatal disease, he sent a stressed side-eye to the student who smiled easily and shook his head. Logan relaxed slightly "So if you were to keel over from cardiac arrest, I would be inclined to point the metaphorical finger of blame onto the copious amounts of coffee you consume on a regular basis"

The chit chat comfortably went back and forth, Remy dramatically pretending to be offended while he worked on setting up the station and dressed himself in the ppe, and Logan went about collecting empty forms he would need to complete.

He washed and dried his hands, grabbed his file work, a clip board, and a voice recorder machine and prepared to meet the specimen.

"Professor Logan Sanders, October Nineteenth, time is currently eight thirty-two AM. I am joined by lab assistant and final year University student Remington Alvas who has the necessary training to sterilise, set up station, feed, and handle the specimen - while under my guidance. Initial investigation and observation of new specimen of uncertain famalia. The specimen was captured by field scientist unintentionally, being caught in a pitfall trap intended for a different species entirely. The specimen was enclosed in a secure, clear container and was transported to this facility and has been unattended but on a video feed for a little over seven hours. I shall take height and weight measurements from the specimen first,"

The enclosure was around a meter and a half tall, slightly elevated so it was within Logan's eyeline. He hadn't gathered a clear look at the creature, as the enclosure had been left dark, and it'd already made a surprising mass of webbing. Remy had prepared and sanitised containers to put the creature in whilst being weighed, and was standing close by to assist with any restraining should the creature try to make an escape.

Wearing protective gloves - in case the hairs on the creatures' body were irritants, or it was inclined to bite him - Logan unlocked the cage with an excited anticipation. Using both hands, he slowly scooped the creature up. It appeared like a tarantula, although it was the size of a standard rabbit. He applied a firm yet gentle pressure onto the creatures carapace to prevent it from wriggling out his hands, although it seemed remarkably tame and barely even reacted besides looking up at Logan in what seemed to be curiosity. Dozens of eyes filled the creatures face, some so small they looked like freckles and Logan had to bite down the urge to coo.

Blinking, and pointedly not looking at Remy's questioning glance, he began speaking for the audio recording as he placed the creature in the container as gently as possible.

"The creature is rather subdued, whether that is its true temperament or a result of me handling whilst it was resting under its light cycle is undetermined. Regardless it allowed itself to be carried in a standard hold, and is content to be seated in the weighing container"

Indeed, as soon as Logan sealed the top of the container, the curious spider creature immediately set to work creating webbing in its area. Either it had a high prey drive, or preferred to be confined; or perhaps both. He made a note of this, speaking as he did so.

It took awhile for the creature to settle long enough for him to get an accurate reading, which allowed him time to simply observe. Remy was being oddly quiet, watching with folded arms and a schooled expression. He seemed rather uncomfortable with an arachnid present. Logan, on the other hand, found the creature rather endearing. Its Spinnereta glands were in working at least, with how effortlessly it could create the web. He'd use this container to gather a sample of the webbing - it's protein content should help reveal some information on its diet and lifestyle.

"The specimen is weighted at six-hundred and-forty-three-point-zero-eight grams. We will now measure the specimen."

Yet again, Logan took great care in removing the creature from the container, and yet again it was perfectly docile asides from a small chittering that lacked the characteristics of a typical threat display, and therefore Logan interpreted as harmless. This next part may prove a little trickier and required Logan to be a little more tactile with it. Well, Remy had to be tactile, he would be the one pinning it.

"Remy, if you could. Hold down the carapace and sternum, it should instinctively spread its legs out so the measurement will be accurate. Be careful on the sternum, it has what appear to be eyes littered around it - they may be mimicry to ward off predators, but we aren't going to take that chance and will assume they're functioning organs connected to optical nerves"

Remy nodded, mouth in a grim line of disgust as he did as he was told

"it's just freaky looking, spiders shouldn't be this big"

Logan hummed noncommittally as he lined the measuring tape.

"I agree, our understanding of how arachnids work would state that an invertebrate could not reach this size. It may not even be an arachnid, as its upper section seems to be more mammalian. It may even fall into a Genus all of its own - and isn't that extremely exciting? "

Remy pouted, shrugging

" yeah, I guess, it's just a bit weird. I guess it'll grow on me, tho"

Logan chuckled at that as he measured, its over all height, over all width, and measured diagonally from the tarsus of its longest front leg, and longest back leg. After measuring its torso, he declared it done, and instructed Remy to place it back into its enclosure while he recorded the measurements.

"The specimen has a Chelicerae and Pedipalps which suggests it partakes in self grooming. I will spray non-chlorinated water in the enclosure to hopefully encourage it to groom, so we may observe the process. Cameras will be recording and will be provided along side documents and this audio recording."

Spray bottle at the ready, Logan aimed and sprayed a fine mist within the enclosure. The creatures didn't react at first, until the mist settled atop it, and the creature hissed furiously, lurching to life and running half up the enclosure. Logan felt a strange burst of guilt as he shut the door, preventing it from escaping. After a few moments it seemed to settle, using its Pedipalps to groom compulsively at its face, seemingly irritated on an emotional level; if non sentient creatures had the mental capacity to be upset, that is.

Sighing with a slight air of sadness as the creature chittered and clicked, retreating back into the almost opaque web tunnel it had created. Logan sighed yet again.

"The specimen appears over stimulated, not reacting well to being misted. We will stimulate a night cycle by tinting the observation glass on the inside looking out - we will still be able to see clearly looking on- and turning the internal heat lamp off. It responded well enough last time, and hopefully by the afternoon it'll be a well enough temperament to be handled again and we can try to determine a diet. In the mean time, the observational camera will continue filming, but this recording will be paused - "

Logan clicked off the voice recorder, humming as he dimmed the glass and deactivated the heat lamp for the little spider. He looked at Remy, who was eyeing his own mobile phone longingly, obviously hopeful for a break. Logan shook his head, laughing slightly at the ensuing whine.

"Afraid not, Remington. We've got plenty work to be doing while the creature rests"

Remy groaned.