#feces attack

[ryn-city]

why why why why why why why why why why why why why

[foldingfittedsheets]

So tonight in DnD. I have laughed harder than I have in a very very long time.

As background knowledge, we have an “Oops All Dragons” party. We’re modified young dragons so it’s not a huge advantage but at this point three fourths of the party are dragons.

We get called in to usurp two warlords. The setting is like fantasy mad max desert. One warlord was a warlock, the other a centaur fighter. Our first plan was that our dragons would dye themselves a different color to pretend to be rogue dragons and attack the city. They would take out the warlord. Then our bunnyfolk barbarian was gonna run in and take us down afterward to become the figurehead for the city.

But when we turned up the warlord had a pact with a demon who threatened that if we didn’t throw the fight he’d destroy the town with meteors. We started trying to scope out the magical trigger for the threatened spell. Our cleric-dragon started trying to sense magic.

After swooping all over the town we realized the magic was centered on the warlord. But we didn’t know for sure. And one dragon swooping close was just gonna be a target. So I said, “Hey… this one time my younger siblings loosed their… feces… after a dive”

The resulting hilarity took a while to calm down but finally the DM was like, “You want to try to blind him with your shit?”

Yes. Yes we did. But none of the dragons wanted to be the only one raining shit. It was embarrassing. So we decided that all three of us would try this gambit.

My dragon went, they doused him with a face full of poop but didn’t blind him. The Druid-dragon went next and did similarly well.

But he got the jump on the cleric-dragon, and furious, covered in dragon shit, he cast a fireball at her. Unfortunately for him, she has the ability to steal a spell. So the fireball launched then sling shotted straight back into his face.

There he was. A steaming flaming pile of burning shit. And then she shit on him too.

My dragon managed to dispel the rune circle we’d detected with the gambit, and he fled into the crowd to be torn apart by his oppressed people.

Then we did a WWE style fight with our barbarian and he managed to almost kill our Druid on accident and the dragons fled on schedule.

Success- after a fashion! We usurped the guy and shit all over the town.

There’s a second warlord we need to target. We decide what’s a little identity theft so our cleric posed as a grunt we’d killed previously called “The Haboob Wraith.” A haboob is genuinely a desert sandstorm but it was hilarious regardless.

We roll into town deciding to duplicate our piggyback tactics from the last one on one fight we had. The party was escorted into a champions tent and presented with the finest things before their fight to the death. The finest thing in this case is…. Milk.

We all paused and out of character said, “Did you just say milk?”

“Yeah! Like nice cow milk! It’s rare in the desert!”

I lost my fucking shit that the finest thing on offer was milk. So the Haboob Wraith strode into combat with a stomach full of milk.

The centaur warlord said, "I hope you've prayed to your gods, you're about to meet them."

"The gods pray to ME!" she shouted and went on to slaughter him.

We installed a second puppet warlord and rode off into the sunset, all of us staggered by the utter silliness of the whole session, and said goodnight with many a shit pun.

[ineffectualdemon]

Do people know what "in sickness" means?

Will you cut up your partner's food when their hands are too clumsy and painful?

Will you do all the chores while they sit because the pain won't let them help?

Will you hold them while they cry about what a burden they are and reassure them they are a weight you willingly carry?

Will you sort their medication?

Remind them to eat?

Will you help them use the toliet while they sob in humiliation

Will you clean vomit and feces and urine?

Will you talk them down from a panic attack?

Or from an even deeper breakdown?

Will you put your hands between their head and their fists because you can't restrain them during a meltdown but you'd rather get hit then see them hurt themselves

"In sickness" is a heavy request

Do you understand what it is being asked?

[a-book-of-creatures]

I'm running a tabletop RPG campaign where the characters are interacting with folklore creatures from around the world. Do you have any suggestions? Benevolent, scary, weird...

(please avoid things that are sacred I'm using them in a trpg)

Hrm… have you considered asking @thecreaturecodex ? She knows all about that sort of thing. I wouldn’t know an RPG if it crawled up my legs and bit me in the face.

Creatures from around the world though, that’s not very specific… I can think of some random ones I’ve covered over the years, I guess???

The Vatnagedda (Iceland) or Loch Pike looks like a furry golden flounder that lives in lakes. It is so poisonous that merely touching it is deadly, and a dead one can corrode its way through organic and inorganic matter. In fact even ghosts are afraid of it, and one of those buried at the doorstep of a house will keep them away. It can only be held safely with humanskin or skateskin gloves, and wrapped in human and calf cauls.

The Zankallala (Hausa) is a little gnomish being who has a bee swarm for a hat, a snake for a walking stick, scorpions for spurs, and a jerboa for a mount. It is accompanied by birds who sing about how amazing it is. It can effortlessly kill monsters and protects those attacked by them.

The Colôrobètch (Wallonia) is the personification of the winter wind. It sneaks up on children who haven't bundled up enough and nips at their faces with its beak, leaving red, cracked, painful skin behind.

Haakapainiži (Kawaiisu) or Grasshopper is an ogre who captures children and stores them in a basket to eat later. He uses the sharp spikes on his legs to gouge out people's eyes. He can also shapeshift, taking on the form of a harmless old man or a swarm of grasshoppers.

The Zabraq (Middle East) can leap 30-50 cubits in a single bound. Its urine and feces are highly caustic, and it flings them with its tail to kill its prey. If its prey escapes it by climbing a tree, it roars in fury until it vomits blood and dies.

<blocks your path>

[robby-bobby-tommy]

Well, ig it's time for me to talk about one of my favorite lores and streamers at this point.

Fit MC of 2B2T and his tragedy.

Honestly, when I watched the launch of QSMP I was full on Philza watcher. I never knew Fit before, but I was charmed by his voice, humor and friendship with crow father. And honestly I never even expected any lore from him, so when his first lore stream happened I was pleasantly surprised! So, I really want to express how much I love Fit's lore. It's not in your face and has a lot of subtle hints and build up. Honestly, it's not an essay but rather an expression of true admiration of masterful story telling in form of incoherent ramblings.

(I'll try to compose it, but I can't promise it'll always be coherent)

So let's start with quick review of his lore. FitMC of 2B2T is, evidently from the oldest anachy server. It's described as wasteland, where you can't trust or be trusted. Once he was approached by a person, whom Fit can't remember. It was a contractor who sent our favorite war criminal to the Qsmp with a mission to steal player data. Everything up from there is in vods.

Well, it is a great start, isn't it? At this point we have a very sad start. Practically no trust and emotional connection to anything. The eternal destruction, explosions, deaths and betrayals don't teach you anything different. So once he came to the server, I imagine, Fit didn't care about anything but mission. Player data and that's all, but right from the start this mindset started to change because of the greatest misfortunes of any mercenary or a 2b2t player. Emotional connection.

So now let me break this up into some sections.

Philza: you really thought I won't bring him up? As a greatest (platonic) Fitza/Wallflower duo enjoyer or just a Phil watcher, I couldn't leave him out of this post. I really think that Fit's learning started with crow father. From the start we know that they're at least are acquaintances. But throughout all this months they grew into something more. Philza's trust is hard to get, but if you get it this'll be worth it. Yet Fit got it. Throughout the good old days of Qsmp, when everything was easier, Fitza always were together. No matter was it a life threat or a camping trip with kids, they're with each other. Trusting to each other enough to letting each other in eggs' homes. And after feces hit the fan, it didn't change. A person, who was taught to never trust a soul and to survive no matter what, was standing there, saying "I'm with you, Phil" In the midst of attack. The trust between them is just incomprehensible. A paranoid hardcore survivor and a war criminal, with a lot of secrets and separetion anxiety, became best friends. If anything goes South for Phil, Fit'll be spying, controlling situation. If a wise crow ever starts loosing his sense of reality, this soaked in blood hand will lay on his shoulder, reassuringly. And it isn't one sided. If Fit needs anything Philza instantly passes him it ("You're too good to me"). Phil shares everything he can with Fit and even trusted the Dream to him. And Fit even had a small separation anxiety attack, just cuz Phil was gone for a few seconds. They are so close, Fit even considered letting in Phil on his purpose, Aaaaah... They're gonna be the death of me. Philza learned Fit friendship/ platonic love.

"You [Phil] and I [Fit].... We walk into churches and they burn just by our presence."

Ramon: the baby boy made in heaven by God himself. There's so much to be said here. Once again, coming into the island, Fit never expected to connect with someone, especially to have a son. After having a rocky relationship with Spreen was left one on one with a child. The absurdity of situation is just as laughable, as ironic. A man, who's hobby was killing kids with no back thought, was now stuck with a child, having no idea of how to raise him. And, honestly, he did pretty good! He gave Ramon freedom, but always was here, close enough to help if needed. Of course he wasn't the saint, yet he always tried to be as honest as he could, even letting him on the "Family secret". Ramon loves his dad, and it's obvious by how he helps Fit with his job, building him a communication with his contractor. The little one even taught this cold person to be kinder and more open. They only have each other. And Fit is ready to do anything if it means he'd get to leave with his baby boy by his side. Also I don't wanna hear a scrap about 2b2t historian not caring about his son's disappearance. He does. After behaving and distancing himself from his past antics, he decided to burn the ship, where Ramon lost his first life, just to avenge his baby. He visits his sons house every stream, looking if maybe he came back. If you want any prove of how much they care about each other search Ramon's graduation. They made each other better and their love is just aaahhh. I love them. Ramon taught Fit parental love.

"Baby boy, made in heaven, by God himself.."

PacTW: the last, but not least, Pacman himself. Oooh, love, oooh, lover boy.... Now, I haven't watched a lot of their interactions, but from all I've seen they're suuuuper in love/crush. All those little glances to each other, protection, quality time... Honestly, I think these two videos explain everything. They trust each other and at least have a crush on each other. And once again, there're a lot of small moments that prove this point. Fit having a small panic attack over not seeing pac for a few seconds and even helping to find Walter Bob and Mike. And Pac, no matter how much he loves Mike, didn't drop Fit after the latter was accused of being a traitor. Love is blooming, and even though it's "baby steps" These are still steps. It takes a lot to relearn trust and especially this kind of intimacy, when all you knew before was war, betrayal and lie. And thus Pac taught him love and trust.( I'm not big on shipping but every time hide duo hug my life gets a little better).

"Baby steps, chat. Baby steps. (Puts roses Pac gifted him)"

But, why did I call Fit and his fate tragic, and then just list all the good interactions Qsmp gave him. After all he experienced at 2b2t , this island seems like a heaven. But, Fit was, is, and forever will be stranger at the paradise (this man is way too good at presenting lore. Even music gives us soo much things to think about... I love it.). No matter how much Fit loves people around him and feels this being reciprocated, he'll never have this full closure. He knows and believes that once everyone knew his mission, they'll hate him. Even people I listed before. He'll never be fully honest with anyone (apart from Ramon), and no matter how people love him. Fit truly feels for Baghera, when she told him about her past and her fear of telling it to BBH. It is literally what he struggles with. This dialogue has a lot of good foils and parallels. The fear of their past, full trust/ forced lie, darkness/ light, and eventually positive outlook. Baghera was eventually able to trust Bad with her secret, yet Fit wasn't. But this paradise spoiled this war criminal. It made him more trusting, more social. Fit can't now be alone, cuz he connected with people. This server, though is full of secrets, lies and danger, is still a paradise. A heaven on earth for a lonely man...

So the last part of this long ahh post is about his desire. The one thing that convinced Fit to go to qsmp. Freedom. Which he doesn't have. By making this deal with Contractor he fell into the trap. He must to find this player data, or else he'll return to the world he tried to escape. For forever. With no way out. But once he came to the server, Cucurucho will never let him go. So he's now in double trap. Yet the biggest trap is Ramon. He's prepared to sacrifice everything for his baby boy, and can't leave the island without him. And without Ramon Fit wouldn't be able to contact the contractor. So in creating connections, Fit traps himself further.

I can't really call it a character analysis, but it's all I see in Fit's lore. A very lonely war criminal, that got so tired of distrust and destruction, that he agreed on a spy mission. But once his mission started he learned how to love and care, that he trapped himself further. Love isn't a miracle that saves you, but it's a very useful tool. Once you learn to understand and reciprocate it, life may become better. (Sorry, it's super cheesy, but I think it encompasses Fits character very good) .

Fit is a spy. They're not supposed to have a family and love, because they can't stay for long. And I think at first, Fit saw everything and everyone as just a means to an end. Just the player data. But after all that has passed he can't be the same. He has a son, friends and a possible love interest. Will he be able to still continue his mission? Will he still betray them and they're trust? I don't know.

But I now I love how cc! Fit does his lore. It isn't so in the face and doesn't affects other, yet it is so layered. Everything is so important down to the music choice aaaaagh. I don't even pretend to analyse everything in his lore like contractor, memory loss, head aches and ect.

I just love it. It's marvelous.

[macgyvermedical]

Caring for Someone Who Can't Move

Requested by @control-whump

So here's the thing. Humans are meant to move. Even when we look like we're sitting still or asleep, we are moving. Constantly.

So if there's a reason someone physically cannot move, such as paralysis, unconsciousness, or a problem with sensation or drive to move, there are things we have to do to prevent injury to that person.

Why do we move?

There are a few reasons. The first is that we have blood vessels and nerves throughout the body. Any time we are still, there is pressure being placed on some part of the body- the bottom of the feet, the butt, the back, etc... That pressure on blood vessels means there is less blood getting to that area. Pressure on nerves changes how signals are sent between that part of the body and the brain. When we don't move at all, damage begins to occur to the tissue due to lack of blood flow. Too much pressure for long enough can also damage the nerves (you have experienced a mild version of this when your limb "falls asleep" and gets tingly when you try to move it after a long time of laying on it.)

Veins- while the heart pumps blood out to arteries, veins use a series of valves to push blood back to the heart. This system relies on the muscles around the veins contracting. If they didn't contract, fluid would pool in the lowest part of the body, usually the feet, which would cause swelling. This is also a problem because the lack of blood movement increases the risk of blood clots that can lead to heart attacks or strokes.

Maintenance of muscle tone- If you sat on a couch and "didn't move" for a week you would lose muscle tone. But not as much muscle tone as you would lose if you actually didn't move for a week due to paralysis. Plus, over long periods of disuse, tendons shorten, causing something called a contracture, which can sometimes only be treated with surgery.

If someone is able to move, we usually encourage that first. If you've ever had surgery you know that getting you up and moving is the #1 thing you will be doing as soon as you are conscious enough to do so. This prevents blood clots and speeds healing. The sooner a person can return to normal activities, even assisted, the better off they will be in the long run.

But what if the person can't move- How do we prevent problems related to immobility?

Well, a lot of times we artificially "provide" movement for the immobile person. For example, we turn people every 2 hours (basically leaning them one way for 2 hours and then the other, trying to redistribute pressure and give the nerves and blood vessels a break) to prevent skin breakdown and we do range of motion exercises for the person several times per day to prevent contractures and loss of tone.

Range of motion exercises mean moving each joint in all the directions that joint moves multiple times per session. Here is an example of assisted ROM:

There are also other things we do to support the person overall, like making sure they have adequate nutrition (makes the skin better at tolerating sub-optimal blood flow), cleaning them up promptly when they urinate or defecate (if urine or feces sits on the skin it irritates it and causes wounds), and making sure there are no wrinkles in the sheets or clothing that presses on particular parts of the body.

What other things do we need to consider if someone doesn't move?

They're probably not able to take care of themselves in other ways, like cleaning themself or brushing their teeth. They are also probably not able to feed themself or clean themselves when they urinate or defecate, or be able to take medication for themself. So all of these things have to be done for the person.

[ohsalome]

"Khokhol (this is the slur russians use agains ukrainians) nazis can only play with their anuses. What is this going to be, fag festival with swastica? And who is founding this? Fans of nazi pigs with yellow-vomit rag?"

"Is this another attempt of begging for more money for laundering?"

"Fucking dogpigs"

"Khokhols are fags, stop khokhol, country 404 shouldn't exist, hillibilles don't know how to make games" (this particular message was spammed in many games, I will not showcase its every repetition)

(jfc imagine being this mad about a cozy bunny game)

"Khokhlovpiteks on the screen"

"Glory to russia"

September (ru): "You are spoiling the game indurstry with these feces only to gather money for your Mykolas and Tarases (in russian, this is supporsed to be a demeaning stereotypical general name for ukrainians, somewhat similair to how americans harrassing asian people would call them "ching changs"). You are incapable of creating anyting concrete. You all have pig lard in your heads ( ukrainians being obsessed about pig lard is yet another xenophobic anti-ukrainian stereotype used by russians)."

Remy Azphel (ukr): "Seems like you aren't as brave as you try to seem, not risking to become meat in trenches) God forbid a real drone gets you)

Neurofixer (ru): In the meantime, yet another Striker (fighting vehicle used by Ukr army) is burning from Lancets (russian UAV) XD

September (ru): and geraniums are blooming in Kyiv (Geran-2 is another drone used in russian attacks on Ukraine)

Neurofixer (ru): why don't you collect the stinky corpses of your soldiers?

Neurofixer (ru): this game is dumber than the khokhols ffs _____________________

In conculsion: I find it really exceptional how putin, while single-handedly fighting in every battle on Ukrainian frontier and personally commiting every single war crime, has managed to find time to create hundreds of bot accounts and personally spam ukrainian game streams with hate speech and slurs; because obviously it couldn't be "simple russians", after all, every single russian is a pure innocent soul which by nature is not capable of evil (actual quote by pope francis), and, as westerners who don't know a single word in russian never tire of condenscendingly tell me, they would never, ever, ever go out of their way to harrass ukrainian gamedevs and totally would not brag about their army's attacks on our civillian sites, nonono #notallrussians

[dvchvnde]

It appears on several lists of must-see places before you die, usually accompanied by a beautiful picture of the sprawling park—one with towering, gunmetal batholiths and rugged, snow-capped peaks on either side of the frame, almost perfectly mirrored. They plummet into a vertiginous drop down to a lush valley of vivid Scheele’s green below. 

Through the unfathomable gap of these primordial mountains, nestled in the thick of the valley, is a white line of the rushing river that bleeds into what makes this place an absolute must: 

The roaring waterfalls, the gorgeous fjords. 

When you click on the pictures, the magnitude of just how massive this land is, and just how big those gorges are makes it all seem so empyrean. As if the land itself touches the heavens in places, disappearing into the sky. Swallowed by the aether.  

It's dizzying. 

And entirely remote. 

Save for a visitor centre close to one of the bigger falls, this place is far removed from civilisation. A protected land hidden like a glimmering gem in the privacy of the wilderness. It's the sort of place where novices are well-forewarned about the dangers of testing their mettle against a basin of nature that sees less than one hundred people traversing the rugged landscape a year. 

You only have yourself to rely on out here, someone writes. It's not for the faint of heart. 

Simply put: it's perfect. 

Cheap, too. You follow the instructions, requesting a weekend pass in the northern backcountry. Permits approved, credit card accepted. A map is emailed off along with an itinerary of what to bring, what to do (and what not to do—no scents, nothing that isn’t bear-repellent approved, no firearms without pre-approval from park services; same with fishing and hunting), and where to go. Signing in and out is mandatory lest they have to launch a massive, and expensive, search and rescue for you. 

It’s all a little overwhelming (beware of wild animals, do not engage with them, do not feed them; do not leave trash in the outback; do not swim in the rapids and be wary of the vicious undercurrent in the river; do not go where you are not prepared to be) and the laundry list of what not to do seems bigger than you’re prepared for. Trepidation sinks in. 

And then, as if in mockery of your unease, an email pops up in your inbox—

you're in bear country now, it warns, and then proceeds to tell you how to defend yourself against an attack—defensive and predatory—and to always, always, report any sightings you see to the park rangers. Immediately. Instantly. Without hesitation. Anything. Everything. Footprints, feces. It could save someone else's life. 

It’s daunting. you are your own protection, it adds, vicious and cold. Cruel. We share the responsibility, but you are the one who carries the biggest burden. Be smart, be prepared, and be cautious.

They send three emails about safety, and advise that you attend a two-hour-long park seminar when you arrive on your first day to warn you about the dangers within the valley, the wildlife and rugged mountains, the steep ravines, and the treacherous rivers. 

The man leading the seminar is dismissive during it, derisive. The park is open to the public, the ranger mumbles, gruff and unkind. His eyes skewer into the meagre rucksack on your back, and the outfit you picked—trousers, a thermal long-sleeve, and hiking boots the sales associate assured you that you would grow into, and huffs, adding: and it’s up to said public to decide if it can survive in here; we post signs and warnings and make all of the dangers as accessible as we can, as apparent as we can, but once you sign in, and head out, you are on your own. 

But in none of these pamphlets, in this abrupt dressing down of your limited experience and their ambivalence on whether or not you can take care of yourself, does anyone ever tell you about the real danger hidden in these woods:

man.

Or rather, a man. 

There's something unmatched about the wilderness, about the innate sense of self-reliance that seems to exude from within, this precocious sense of isolation and inner dependence. Out here, so far away from rescue or civilisation (about seven clicks in the opposite direction, give or take a few additional hours just maneuvering around jagged rock cliffs and steep canyons), you only have yourself for guidance, for salvation. 

Maybe that's part of the reason why it draws you in so much. This idea of alienation. Of loneliness. 

You are as safe as mother nature permits. As the grit in your bones allows. Flash flooding, intense storms. Whiteouts. Avalanches from the highest peaks in the distance. Surges in the river below. Currents. And—

Bears. Wolves. Wolverines. Bison. Moose. Coyote. 

The list of hazards always seems to exceed the majesty of the world around you—haphazard cliffs, towering batholiths, roaring rivers—but only marginally. It's always worth it when you're there. In the heart of it all, staring down at the ink-black water below a massive fjord. The cut of limestone. Water slicing through the valley. It's ancient, primordial. And standing in the basin of its grandeur, a meagre slip of time in the palms of unfathomable aeons, the dangers balance out. Risk, reward. 

This one, though, is probably the loneliest place you've ever been. 

As you stand outside the visitors centre, the park looming large and untamed before you, there's a prickling sense of unease that permeates the air. A fine mist of worry draping over your shoulders. The park is—

Unfathomable. 

The ledger they had you sign in on boasts five names in the last three years. A quick flip through the aged pages is just as barren. Empty. 

“Not the most isolated or remote, no,” one of the wardens says, eyes creasing against the harsh glare of the sun. He offered to accompany you into the park, and you'd eagerly taken him up on the offer. Not quite ready to be on your own. “That's probably higher up. Quttinirpaaq, maybe? Heard from some buddies up there that they had no visitors last year. We do pretty well. About one thousand a year? Usually filmmakers and the like. Adventurous types. Gets kinda lonely up here. Ain't no Banff, that's for sure.” 

You felt that isolation when he'd reached the cut-off heading toward South Nahanni, and waved you along. Sage advice following him as he walked, hand on his holstered gun. 

“Keep yer wits about ya. Strange things happen in these parks, ya know?” 

Strange things, indeed. 

It starts with a noise. 

The rustle in the tussock concealed between heavy, darkened spruce. Snap of twigs underfoot. A shallow grunt when you're clamoring up the steep incline cradling the mouth of a still lake. Footfalls echoing through the valley when you rest in the lush green grass, peeling an apple to satiate the meagre appetite you've dredged up on your climb to get to this spot. 

It can all be chalked up to the wilderness. Sound, you know, is a mirage in a place like this. Deceitful. Screams that sound like it's right next to you are just the trawling echoes of wind whistling in a canyon. It isn't anything to be immediately worried about. This space is vast. Open. You'd see someone if they were there. 

An animal, maybe. 

But that thought does little to quell your sudden nerves. Or abate the spike of anxiety that rivets down your spine. 

It feels like you're being watched. 

This unease lingers as you pack your apple core inside your travelling pack. Nothing left behind, you remember, and pretend that's the only reason for the quick survey you take of the area. Just in case. Just in case—

Nothing.

Just a sprawling valley, an endless sea of green, crawling up jagged monoliths. In the distance, a thunderous plume of fog curls over the sawtooth peaks. Their heads lifted to the heavens as if scenting the looming danger congealing in the distance. Thick gunmetal clouds brew over the mountains. A sudden swell sweeps through the valley, shaking the tussock. Cold enough that your teeth chatter. 

They warned you of an oncoming storm. 

[gabipaleo]

Turtonator - a large, predatory turtle, native to Alola, but can also be found in Galar. They live in hot and humid areas such as swamps or even lakes near volcanoes. They feed on everything what is alive and can fit in their mouth, mainly on young and small animals like Wooper, Goldeen and Arrokuda, as they cannot chew, they must to swallow them whole. They doesn't have many predators, due to their spiky and hard shell, protecting them from most attacks from above, however there are some animals which can try to hunt it, such as Barraskweda and Obstagoon. Turtonators are very territorial animals, they will try to chase away any other member of the species unless the mating season comes. They mark their territory with feces, which are highly toxic and have a strong, sulfurous smell. They spend most of the time under a layer of mud, waiting for their prey to get close enough to attack.

[nothuman-tips-and-tricks]

Hi!! i was wondering if you could give me some pronouns based off of Maned wolves, and maybe some funfacts

-anonF-

Fun facts:

1. The maned wolf is the largest canid of South America. It looks more like a long-legged fox than a wolf. Genetic studies show that it is neither fox nor true wolf, but a distinct species. It is the only member of its genus, Chrysocyon.

2. The maned wolf stands about 3 feet (90 centimeters) tall at the shoulder and weighs about 50 pounds (23 kilograms).

3. Maned wolves range through central and eastern South America including northern Argentina, South and Central Brazil, Paraguay, Bolivia and southern Peru. They inhabit the cerrado, the largest biome of South America, which is composed of wet and dry forests, grasslands, savannas, marshes and wetlands.

4. Maned wolves mark their territory with powerful-smelling urine and feces on hillocks and termite mounds along their borders. They do not howl, but instead emit loud barks or roar barks to let their mate know where they are, and to warn other wolves to stay away.

5. Maned wolves are omnivorous eaters and primarily solitary hunters. They eat seasonally abundant fruits and vegetables and are particularly interested in lobeira, whose name means "fruit of the wolf." It is a small tomato-like berry that, along with other fruits and vegetables, makes up 50 percent of the maned wolf's diet.

6. They eat small mammals such as rodents, rabbits and insects. Maned wolves rotate their large ears to listen for prey animals in the grass. They tap the ground with a front foot to flush out the prey and pounce to catch it, or they may dig after burrowing prey. They may also leap into the air to capture birds and insects. Long legs help them move through and see above tall grasses.

7. Maned Wolves are crepuscular to nocturnal.

8. Maned wolves exhibit monogamous pairings, with breeding pairs defending a territory averaging 27 km2 (17 mi2.). Despite the concerted defense of territory, male and female wolves typically only associate closely during breeding season.

9. In a zoological setting, male maned wolves have been observed regurgitating food for their young. This may indicate that the male plays a significant role in the care of young in the natural environment.

10. The maned wolf can live up to 12 years in the wild, and as much as 15 years in a controlled setting.

11. The Maned Wolf belongs to the Mammalia class with the scientific name Chyrsocyon brachyurus. Chyrsocyon means golden dog.

12. Male and female Maned wolves have no distinct names. Generally, the male is called a dog, and the female is called a bitch.

13. The Maned wolf babies are referred to as pups, just like their canine counterparts. Scientists have evidence that the adult female produces about two pups at once. These pups reach sexual maturity after at least two years of age.

14. This shy animal is harmless for the most part, flees when alarmed, keeps its distance from people, and rarely attacks only when it feels threatened. From a few documented pieces of evidence, it is concluded that the majority of Maned wolves do not pose any threat to our safety. Other unprovoked attacks by wildlife Maned wolves happened because of Maned wolves' fearlessness due to habituation.

Pronouns:

Mane/Mane’s/Maned/Maneself

Wolf/Wolf’s/Wolves/Wolfself

Fox/Fox’s/Foxes/Foxself

Tall/Tall’s/Tallself

Canine/Canine’s/Canineself

Canid/Canid’s/Canidself

Howl/Howl’s/Howlself

Bark/Bark’s/Barkself

Roar/Roar’s/Roarself

Fur/Fur’s/Furself

Fang/Fang’s/Fangself

Bite/Bite’s/Biteself

Tail/Tail’s/Tailself

Dog/Dog’s/Dogself

Bitch/Bitch’s/Bitches/Bitchself

Pup/Pup’s/Pupself

Puppy/Puppy’s/Puppies/Puppyself

Chyrsocyon/Chyrsocyon’s/Chyrsocyonself

Brachyurus/Brachyurus’s/Brachyuruself

Golden/Golden’s/Goldenself

Paw/Paw’s/Pawself

Fluff/Fluff’s/Fluffself

[ryn-city]

everything is in turmoil!!

[riptideripley]

His Princesa 2

part 1 part 2 part 3

a dominik mysterio x reader series.

angst,light fluff towards the end(sorta),toxic relationship,google translate used,TRIGGER WARNING ABUSE MENTIONED.

word count:669

Without you two knowing of the recording,you met up with the judgement day since it was an off day for you all. Rhea had only showed Priest the recording,to which they both were shocked but not that shocked. Finn was unaware of the whole situation,just as you two were. So when you both showed up together,Rhea was all giggles. You had all planned to go out for lunch and then to a park,just to chill like you used to do back home with Rhea(y’all are childhood friends). “Hey guys! So where are eating” “That Mediterranean Grill place,heard it’s good” You and Priest conversed. Everyone agreed on the spot so we went.

fast forward.

“That was so delicious! We have to go there again if we ever come back here” Dom spoke very happy and pleased with the food. You giggled at his reaction when all the sudden Rhea yanked you off the slide and dragged you to the swings. “Rhea what the f-“ “Listen. I saw you and Dom making out or whatever last night,you have to break up with your boyfriend. Also I told Priest” she ran off giggling. You stood there for a minute in shock. ‘shit. she shouldn’t have saw that’ you thought,as you pulled out your phone texting your “boyfriend”.

You - ‘Hey,Chris listen I need to tell you something. I don’t think this relationship is really working,you are constantly out drinking and cheating on me. I can’t do this anymore with you

{Chris .} - ‘(your name) what the fuck. I was gonna come out there to see you,Im already here matter of fact and you tell me this bullshit? man forget it,it’s over with.’

You looked at your phone for a minute before putting it in your pocket,walking back over to everyone. “Hey you ok? You seem off.” Dom asked concerned. You shook your head and smiled,”Yea I’m fine just a little tired that’s all”. He didn’t believe you but didn’t wanna ask anymore questions. You were all having fun and smiling when you heard someone call your name,you turned your head around and your heart sank. It was Chris,the one person you didn’t wanna see at this point especially since you were laid up on Dominik. Rhea paid attention to your expression and could tell you were scared. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Chris yelled as he charged at you,your heart began racing and you flinched when he got close to you. No one knew that he had put his hands on you before,not even your best friend Rhea. So when you flinched,they immediately knew what the situation was. Priest jumped off the monkey bars and got in between the two of you. Dom held you close as you began having a panic attack,he drew three circles on your back and on your hand which always calmed you down. He lifted you up and got you out of the area they were in,as he spoke,”Princesa.. ¿Cuánto tiempo?” he asked. You were hesitant to answer but decided to tell the truth,”Cuatro meses..” you softly spoke. You could see the expression on his fece completely change,to a very concerned and worried look. He hugged you tight as the rest of the Judgement day came over to the spot you were in. “Hey listen Ima take her back home,she’s uncomfortable right now” he said as he turned to them with you in his arms,they all nodded and let him go take you to your car. “They’re so cute together” Finn said trying to lighten the mood,which it did. “Yea totally. Not after what i witnessed last night” Rhea rolled her eyes as Finn stared at her,”The fuck did you see?” “They were making out! Right in front of me after I woke up from my nap.” Finn began laughing while Rhea just stared at him. “Not funny.”

[cowboymeemaw]

Barn Cats

Meet Fee, our residential farm lady-

This post is going to go over the importance of barn cats to our farm. Though before I do all that let's get some facts about my barns kitties.

-All my barns cats have free access to outside, the barn, and the house whenever they like. Though they have their own cat room in the barn and prefer that area.

-All barn cats are flea treated, wormed, and spayed/neutered.

-None of my barn cats are feral.

--------------------

The Importance Of Barn Cats

When you hear of barn cats, a lot of people think of pets that aren't cared for so they're thrown outside. That is infact wrong! These cats are important to the health and safety of our animals, especially our poultry.

At my land personally we tend to deal with mice issues, horribly. Mice are cute but they carry diseases that can harm our animals. They're very good at chewing into feed bags and contaminating feed, causing money loss and unusable feed.

Mice are sneaky, unfortunately sometimes we don't notice they got into the feed until it's too late. An example of this is they got into the chick feed and their feces caused the death of multiple young chickens. They also like to eat out expensive hog feed, bit the pigs usually eat them back 🤦‍♂️

And to fight back to this issue, we have Barn Cats. These cats are machines, they can successfully kill dozens of mice and prevent them from ruining feed. Ever since getting barn cats there has been a major improvement in the amount of rodents in our barns!

Other animals the cats have successfully delt with are snakes and opossums! We don't have venomous snakes but we do have egg stealers and chick eaters. These cats have successfully made it so we haven't lost anything to a snake in two years!

Now our cats don't get rid of opposums by death. Rather they just deter them from entering the property. Opposums are lovely little creatures but they do attack poultry, and their feces (if consumed by horses) can cause the horse to have a neurological issue and die.

These cats are also incredibly smart! They will kill a mouse or a bird in the feed, but completely ignore a hen and her freshly born chicks! They're able to make a respectful relationship with our livestock! Without them we'd be flushed with rodents and snakes!

[i-eat-worlds]

Things That Shouldn’t Happen In A Closet

so uh….this exists now. It’s long. I didn’t think it’d be this long. I might’ve made a mistake. Anyway hope you enjoy

Content: Explicit, graphic birth scene, probably inaccurate onset of labor, emotional whump, angst, medic caretaker, hostage situations, pregnancy whump, whump of a minor (does being born count as whump?), anxiety and panic attacks, feces mention

Joseph scanned HAL’s always busy medbay, looking around for the charge nurse that was on duty today. It was odd that they weren’t out and about, and so he turned down the left hallway, past the breakroom and towards the bank of offices and closets that were further away.

He found her coming out of a bathroom, putting his hand up to wave her over. “Hey Tori.” He handed her the clipboard, probably an all too familiar action. “Are you on today? I thought you were on maternity leave.”

Tori quickly signed the papers. “I was supposed to be, but half the day shift called out today, and they couldn’t cover it.” She started to walk back towards the heart of the medbay. “Are you saying I’m incapable of doing my job because I’m pregnant, Joseph?”

“No, no nothing like that.” He trailed several steps behind her.

“Good.” She handed the clipboard back to him, face cringing in pain. “Word of warning: do not eat the cafeteria meatloaf. You will not be rewarded for your bravery.”

“Noted.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she got there first.

“And no, Dr. Thomas is not working today.”

His face felt hot for some reason, but he was quickly distracted by the sound of a voice over the PA. “Code Purple on 4.”

“Fuck.” Tori’s steps immediately picked up, breaking into a light jog. Code Purple meant that a villain had escaped from the specialized ward up on the fourth floor. They were to evacuate who they could, and lock down everything else.

Joseph followed her down the hallway, running back towards the medbay’s central hub. Far in front of them, they saw several figures. Before Joseph could yell at them to run or hide, a bright green bolt of energy flew down the hallway.

His instincts kicked in, and he quickly shoved Tori into a side hallway, body placed protectively in front of hers. The blast blew past them, metal clattering as it hit something out of sight. Tori looked up at him, eyes wide and panicked, as he dragged her into an open room. As quietly as he could, he pulled the door shut behind them, and locked it.

“Get down,” he mouthed, retreating into the darkness of the shelves. They were stocked with office supplies, a giant box of paper blocking his view of the door. Tori squatted carefully, holding her breath.

Heavy footsteps stomped down the hallway, coming to a stop outside the door. The handle jiggled a little, starting to twist. Did it not lock?

There was a dramatic sigh from the other side, and then a harsh “it’s locked, idiot.” The figures moved away, charging after something or someone else.

Tori let out a breath as she sat down. “Okay, what the fuck?” Her voice shook a little.

Joseph was quiet, unsure what to say, adrenaline pumping through his veins. “They’re probably trying to escape,” he rationalized. “We’ll wait here until the clear announcement.”

“Yeah.” She leaned back against the wall, hand wrapped around her belly. “God, this is not what I needed today.”

Suddenly, her face twisted with pain, a quiet grunt forcing its way out from her lips. He leaned forward, eyes ickering over her. “You alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just-” she scrubbed the back of her neck. “-a Braxton-Hicks. It’s fine.”

Before he could open his mouth to respond, the PA cracked. They both looked up expectantly, listening for the news.

“Hello, ladies, gentlemen, and everyone-elses of HAL.” The voice was sinister, deep like the one in the hallway. But, Joseph thought grimly, at least it was inclusive? “I’m going to not prolong this more than I have too. Me and several compatriots have seized control of your medbay, and everyone inside. The doors are locked and barricaded. No one will get in or out without us knowing. Our demands are simple. Ten grand for each of us, a helicopter, and a pardon, one for each of us.” There was a pause. “Failure to capitulate will result in harm rendered to the hostages. You have three hours to get it sorted.”

The PA faded away, leaving the closet in an oppressive silence. Tori’s eyes met his, shimmering with fear. “What do we do?” She whispered.

“We stay put,” he kept the nervousness from edging into his tone. “They haven’t found us yet, and they’re surrounded by almost every single superhero in the city. I don’t think it's going to be a long term affair.”

“Yeah. It’s a stupid plan.” Her voice wobbled, and Joseph could see her breathing starting to quicken. “It’ll be alright.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He pressed his hands into the cold floor tile. An awkward silence passed between them, the stale atmosphere of the janitorial closet not doing the conversation any favors. The seconds on his watch ticked up, counting up as the minutes passed. Tori doubled over again, and another curse dropped from her lips.

“Oooh, ahhh that’s great,” she said through gritted teeth. “That is just bloody wonderful.”

“Another Braxton-Hicks?”

She nodded. “Yep.”

A beat of silence passed, and then there was the loud crash of something being knocked over. Both Tori and Joseph clammed up, listening as a cacophony of steps thundered down the hallway. The door handle started to rattle, but neither of them moved to open up.

There was a scream, and then the sound of a body hitting the oor. Tori’s mouth popped open, and Joseph stiened. Several minutes passed, slow like molasses. A sickening feeling somersaulted in his gut as the PA clicked on.

“Dear HAL,” It was the same voice as before, though now the tone was tinted with rage. “Don't think we wouldn’t nd the brat of a sidekick you sent in to spy on us. It will be harder than that to displace us. You now have an hour and a half to meet our demands. Do try to be timely.”

The system clicked off, and Tori's panicked eyes met his. “We should turn ourselves in.”

He shook his head. “No-”

“That person is probably hurt, Joseph.” Her face tightened as another contraction rolled through her. “There could be others-they’re going to find us anyway.”

“No, Tori, no.” He scooted closer to her. “I know it's stressful, but we need to keep ourselves safe first, right?”

“Yeah,” a half-faked laugh fell from her lips. “Never did I think a day would come when I would let a frontliner lecture me about safety.”

“We’re not that bad.” He slouched again, glad that Tori seemed more relaxed.

“You’re that bad….” She suddenly trailed off, head looking down. The crotch of her scrub pants was soaked, and uid was pooling on the tile underneath her. “Joseph…” He saw it as she spoke it. “My water just broke.”

Oh fuck. He took a calming breath before responding, and an understanding passed between them. “What pregnancy is this?”

“Third. Third child, too.” Another contraction hit, but she kept talking. Joseph glanced at his watch. “My last two came pretty quick, too.”

“How quickly?”

“They said if I ever wanted to have a third child I should live as close to the hospital as I could for the last three weeks.” She sighed. “I don’t think this was what they meant.”

“Probably not, no.” Joseph, internally, also sighed. This was going to be a thing, and there was no avoiding it. “When are you due?”

“In a week or so.”

“Any complications?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Both were cephalic, no previa or anything, and both were vaginal. No diabetes, no preeclampsia either” Her hand was back on her neck again. “And I did the prenatal care, too.”

“Alright,” He slowly stood up. “Any allergies?”

“Sulfa.” Her eyes followed him as he moved around the closet. “What’re you looking for?”

“Towels, or anything in that genre. Among other things.” So far though, he’d only found lots of paper, pens, and clipboards. “Do you take any medications?”

“Nope,” she tilted her head. “This is really the wrong closet for that.”

He should’ve picked a better closet for them to hide in.“When did you-”

“Five hours ago. It was the stupid meatloaf.” He tried to talk again, and she cut him off. “I’d check the EMS storage down the hall and to the left.”

They were both quiet for a moment. “Tori, I don’t think…”

“This baby is happening, Joseph. And it’s going to be sooner rather than later.” A high pitched hiss escaped her lips, and he checked his watch again. Five minutes, roughly. “It’s going to be what…a ten minute trip at most. I’ll be fine on my own. Just follow the signs to the ambulance bay. I know you’ve stolen from it before.”

Joseph breathed, eyes flickering towards the door. “Alright. Keep the lights off and stay low. If, heaven forbid, something happens and you are caught, you do not sacrifice yourself for me.” There was something dangerous and deadly serious in his eyes. “Do you understand?

“Yes.” She swallowed, but held his gaze, watching as he turned towards the door and pressed his ear to it.

His hand reached down and worked the lock. “See you in a bit.”

After cracking it to double check that no one was coming, he pushed it open and slid out into the hallway. Tori watched him exit, the door closing softly behind him with a little click.

It was eerily quiet as he snuck down the hallway, keeping his body close to the wall. He was hyperaware, listening for the thud of a boot or the whisper of a voice. The emptiness bothered him, all of the staff and patients having either been evacuated or captured.

He carefully stepped over an overturned cart, avoiding the sterile packaged equipment that was spilled over the floor. Blood flecked the wall, and he did his best to rein in his thoughts as he walked past. It was smeared on the floor as well, painting a grim picture of what had happened.

While it was awful, he forced himself to move on. He had someone else to take care of. After, if he had a chance, he’d make sure they were alright.

Before he turned the corner, his eyes foickered up to the mirror to make sure the coast was clear. This hallway was just as empty and unsettling as the last one had been, the side entrance to the ambulance garage all the way down at the far end.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck raised. On blind instinct, he dove into the closet, hoping it was the right one. A blast of energy hurled down the hall behind him, and crossed his fingers as footsteps followed.

“Did you even see anything?” Someone said, their voice frustrated.

There was a beat of silence. “I thought I saw someone walking! I mean it this time.” Another pause. “I promise.”

“Fine,” they grumbled. “I’ll wait here. Go check it out.”

As the steps drew closer, it became harder to breathe. When he’d hidden, he hadn’t locked the door. The closet was tiny, and he didn’t really have a place to go. There was nothing to protect him.

He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to push down the acid that rose up his throat. Silence was his only option, because luck wouldn’t save him. It had intervened twice today, and he doubted it would happen again.

The door creaked, and Joseph’s heart uttered as he realized they were leaning against it. There wasn’t anything he could do but wait.

Until they left, he was stuck.

*** Tori flinched at the sound of another energy blast being sent hurling down the hallway. She crossed her fingers, hoping that Joseph hadn’t been found yet. The deep pit in her gut made her doubt that, and the dread that thought caused was almost unbearable.

Joseph had told her, in no uncertain terms, to sell him out. Despite the instruction, she knew he wouldn't be doing the same to her. Did they know she was missing? Would they hurt him because of her? Would they hurt him anyway?

Another cramp rolled through her, reminding her of the other issue. She was in labor. In a fucking closet, in a hospital crawling with escaped villain, and the one person who could’ve helped her had probably been captured.

Or worse.

The confines of the closet seemed to be closing in on her, and it was difficult to breathe. Every neuron in her body was screaming, and it was just too much. She lowered herself down to the oor, letting the cold tile press into her back.

It was grounding, though her heart was still thundering in her chest. If she had to do this on her own, could she? What if something went wrong? There was no way she’d be able to deal with that, with any of it.

The tears welled up, and she let them come, as quietly as she could. They rolled off the sides of her face, dropping onto the floor. She laid there, for who knew how long, grieving the future.

Her ears twitched when she heard a voice coming down the hallway. Well, it was a pair of voices, walking down the hallway.

She gasped, trying to keep quiet even as she continued to cry. The steps moved impossibly slow, taking forever to pass. They stood still, and if they were talking, she couldn't tell. The only noise she would hear was the ringing in her ears.

Eventually they left, but she couldn't get herself to calm down. No matter what she tried, the panic would go away. It was like she’d been torn asunder and tossed out to sea. She couldn’t nd a way this would turn out well, a way this wasn’t horrible and awful. The thoughts rose in her like a crescendo, like a river overflowing its banks.

And then they stopped.

The closet was too dark for her to notice the black spots that had been slowly clouding her vision, and all she was left with was a dizzy lurch and the burning feeling that she should’ve been laying on her side.

Her eyes slid closed, and she dropped into unconsciousness.

*** Every second Joseph spent inside the closet was torture.

It was like watching sand slowly drop from an hourglass, one painful grain at a time. The painted over brick was grating on his back, and an ancient backboard was propped up on the wall next to him. Someone had done a piss-poor job cleaning blood off the handle.

He spent a lot of time studying that stain, looking at the crusty, rusty brown marks. Henle would’ve crucified him for that, and Jenn too.

It was funny, and then it wasn’t funny at all.

He had been stuck in this stupid closet for far too long. He needed to get back Tori, make sure she was still doing alright. Not be stuck trying to not breathe too loud because the villains were still outside.

The person leaning against the door had started whistling. It was incessant, the same seven notes over and over again.

“Could you stop that?” The other person snapped.

“Then hurry up. Boss is gonna want us back soon.” They pushed off the door.

There was a long tired sigh. “Ugh. Fine. I did actually see someone, though.”

“Sure.”

The both of them started to walk away, and Joseph could finally breathe again. He waited for another very long minute to make sure that they’d actually left, and then he shifted forward.

It’d been ages since he’d last been in here, but the obstetrics kit was easy enough to find. They were shoved in the far corner, on the bottom shelf, but they were there. Maybe HAL couldn’t clean a backboard, but they could organize a closet. He swiped up a few extra pairs of gloves, since five bucks said the pair inside the pack were mediums and wouldn’t t anyway, and an infant BMV, heaven forbid, then steeled himself for the journey back.

Holding the supplies close to his chest, he peeked his head out the door. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he stepped out into the hallway. It had kept its odd, unnatural quiet, and he moved through it as quickly as he could.

Finally, he arrived back at their original hiding spot, quickly creaking the door open and sliding back inside. His gaze was attached to the oor as he set the supplies down. “Tori, I’m back….”

She was laying on her back, head lolled to the side, body slack.

“Tori?” He dropped to his knees beside her, watching her face for any sign of movement. “Tori, are you with me?”

Nothing.

His eyes moved over her, watching her chest rise and fall, a little slower than he would’ve liked. He slid his fingers under her jaw, then set about getting her on her left side.

It took a few minutes for her to stir again, and it appeared that it was a contraction that finally woke her. She grunted in pain as she pulled her eyes open, naked fear ashing across her face. “Joseph?”

He nodded, quickly starting to reassess her. “Yeah?”

There was a pause while she waited for the contraction to lessen enough for her to speak. “I was-I thought-” she stopped herself, but not the sob that fell out instead of words. “I’m sorry, I-” Her hand scrubbed at her face. “-should’ve been on my side.”

“It’s alright,” he scooted back to give her some space. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

She groaned as she sat properly again, folding her legs up. “It’s alright.”

It was obvious that she was stressed. Her eyes were still red and puffy, and her shoulders were tense. Whenever she spoke, her voice was shaky, and Joseph could tell she was straining to hold it together.

Tori opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again. “I thought you-” Another contraction ripped through her, yanking the words out of her mouth before she could say them. Her eyes opened wide as she tried to stay quiet, hissing through her teeth. “Joseph, the baby is coming. I need to push!”

He shifted forward, reaching across the cramped room for his gloves. “So, we’ve reached the point where I would like to take a look. Is that alright?”

“Yes.” She nodded, reaching for her waistband, hands still shaking. Slowly, she wiggled them off, casting them off to the side in a pile, then leaned her back against the wall and opened her legs.

“I’m not going to touch, I’m just going to look, yeah?” He scooted closer so he could see better. The closet’s lighting was dim, but he could still make out the pinkish, stringy bloody show.

Her face twisted as another contraction started, hung and pung as she tried not to scream. A portion of the baby’s scalp appeared, then vanished as it faded away. Soon’s time was over. This baby was coming now.

“I’m going to get set up, alright?” He reached back for the obstetrics pack, starting to unfold it between her legs.

A beat of silence based, and then she spoke up again. “You should give me your belt.” She swallowed. “I don’t want to scream…and have them find us because of that.”

He nodded, the inherent misery of the idea picking at him. “Yeah.”

The buckle clicked as he removed it, then handed it to her. She folded the woven fabric over itself several times, hands still shaking. Joseph pushed away the pressure weighing on his chest, focusing on the task at hand. He pulled on the flimsy plastic apron and changed to the sterile gloves, then placed two towels on her belly and another under her hips.

Another contraction began, and she shoved the wadded-up belt in her mouth to keep herself from screaming. The top of the baby’s head emerged again, Tori’s face twisting into a grimace. The head didn’t disappear this time. “You’re crowning now.” She nodded in understanding. “I’m going to touch, alright?”

He placed one hand on the baby’s head and one underneath, pressing a sponge over her anus. “Keep breathing, and push when you need to.”

Her breathing was quick, hands grasping at the tile. She beared down again, eyes starting to water as more of the head emerged. A thick, brown substance soaked the sponge, and Joseph saw her roll her eyes. She murmured an apology through the belt.

“You’re alright, it happens all the time.” He quickly covered it with another towel, then went back to supporting the head.

Tears started to well in her eyes as she continued to push the head out. Slowly, she made progress, ears and then the forehead, followed by the eyes. Joseph kept the head supported, doing his best to keep Tori calm.

A long, pained grunt fell from her lips, and finally, the head fully emerged. He quickly wiped the blood and fluid away, then suctioned, mouth first to prevent aspiration. Tori was sniing, eyes red as she heaved air in. “You’re doing great.”

His fingers circled the baby’s neck, checking for entanglement. He kept his face carefully neutral when he felt it, but was relieved to nd that it wasn’t tight enough to be of current concern. “That’s the head, we’re nearly there.”

Tori’s face hardened, and she pushed again, the baby rotating so their shoulders could follow. The upper shoulder slipped out without much trouble, and then he guided them upward so that the bottom one could come out after.

They were covered in blood and cheese-like vernix, and Joseph kept a careful grip on their slippery body. Compared to the head and the shoulders, the rest of them delivered quickly.

She spit the belt out of her mouth. “How is she?” Sweat was dripping down her forehead, exhaustion evident in her face.

There was a painfully long few seconds, and then the baby started to breathe. They started to cry, wailing like a siren, and Joseph’s heart dropped. Any advantage they’d had from silence had just vanished. “Do they have a name?”

“Patricia.” She smiled, watching as Joseph quickly cleaned and dried them.

He looked up at her, quiet for a moment, hands still busy. “That’s a good name.”

Patricia kept crying as he checked her over, running a hand along the cord and feeling that it was still pulsating. They’d pinked up considerably in the small amount of time after delivery, only there hands and feet still tinged blue. He pressed his fingers into the inside of their arm, pleased to find a rabbit-fast heartbeat.

Her eyes moved to meet his, expression grim. “They’re going to find us.”

The cord stopped pulsing, and he reached for the clamps. “Tori-”

“Take her. Run. I’ll only slow you down.” She looked down at Patricia, listening to the shrieks of her baby.

“I’m not going to abandon you, Tori.” He cut the cord, leaving the proximal clamp on before swadling them in a blanket.

“Joseph, please.” She took the baby from him, holding them against her chest. “I just need her to be okay.”

Something struck at his heart. “I know. I know.” His eyes watered, but he fought it back. “But it's my job to make sure you both are okay, alright? Your placenta still needs to deliver and I’m not going to leave you alone for that.”

“No, no, no,” She pushed up her scrub top so that the baby could feed, hoping it would make them quiet down. “You have to go.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut o by a loud crackle of power outside in the hallway. They both flinched, Tori’s arms curling around Patricia tighter.

There was a cacophony of shouts and pounding feet. “Joseph, you need to. You have to.” She pushed Patricia towards him, expression grieving. “Please. Please.”

“No, Tori.” He shook his head. “Right now, it’s safest for us to stay here and hide, alright?”

Before she could beg again, the door blew open, flying backwards and slamming into the wall. Tori screamed, pressing the baby to her chest and encircling them with her arms. With little regard for his own safety, Joseph threw himself in front of the two, blood-soaked glove-covered fits raised, ready for a fight.

He did a double take when he realized who it was.

HAL heroes flooded into the room, medics stepping up and the rest of the room slowly emptying. Everything felt both too slow and too fast, like some sort of weird fever dream. The report fell numbly from his lips, and he too was guided away to be checked out.

His hands were sweaty and disgusting from the gloves, and they were still shaking. He felt unsteady on his legs, the exhaustion of the day nally setting in as the adrenaline ebbed. Everything felt distant and unreal, and he just wanted to go home.

They wouldn’t let him leave until after everyone had been processed and questioned, and so we had to awkwardly wait in the waiting room, holding his emotions steady. It was hard. He was so, so tired.

He fished for his phone, pulling it out and dialing one of the three numbers he had memorized. They picked up immediately.

“Hey Aaron…”

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @snail-lamp @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch @rainbowsandwhumperflies

[malicedragoness]

Saturnine

Face/Body claim: Javier Botet

Name: Akuji (Dead and Awake)

Alias/Preferred name: Saturnine (sullen, gloomy)

Gender/Pronouns: Male, he/they

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Demisexual

Occupation: former slave, currently rebel

Appearance:

Height/Build: 6’7” lanky

Skin Tone: dark tan

Hair: black

Eyes: brown, later orange

Identifying Marks: scars on back, missing right ear

Appearance: Tall, thin, a hunched shoulder, and arms longer than usual. Saturnine has a haunting figure that makes people cringe and give him a wide berth. Often referred to as having the body of a wraith.

Powers/Weapons:

Weapons: Thin dagger

Powers: After being experimented on by Adrienne and Quan Chi, Saturnine acquired the power of Miasma and Dream Eating.

-Miasma: Saturnine developed special glands in his throat that, when activated by jutting his jaw a certain way, can emit a vapor from his mouth that causes others to hallucinate. This effect can only work for a limited time, but it lasts long enough for Saturnine to attack with his dagger.

-Dream Eater: Saturnine can use his miasma power to cause others to fall asleep and manipulate their dreams, healing himself by cause his victim distressing nightmares.

Personality:

Personality: Morose, quiet, reticent. Saturnine tends to keep to himself, and speaks with as little words as possible, preferring solitude. His loyalty to Havik and Darrius is unmatched, and will follow them to whatever end.

Motivations: Revenge on a certain higher caste family. The destruction of Seido.

Fears: Being enslaved again. He would rather die before letting that happen.

Hobbies: Books, trying to read. Loves poetry, fairy tales, mythology. Especially the one his lover left behind.

Relationships:

Family: Doesn’t remember them. He was taken away as a young boy.

Significant Other: Hikaru

Relationship Status: Partner deceased

Allies: Havik, Darrius, other rebels.

Enemies: Seido guards and higher castes

Neutral: Adrienne and Quan Chi

Backstory:

Born into the lowest caste in Seido, Akuji has been a slave since day one. With his hunched shoulder and thin appearance, he was deemed undesirable by the higher castes. His parents were forced to leave him behind when they were sold to another family. He has had the same master since birth, being forced to sleep in the stables and slop around animal feces.

Solitude was his friend, as were the animals he tended to. When the master has guests over, he keeps his head down and drowns out the cruel words the nobles call him. Speaking up only gets you hurt, as he saw what happened to the others that came before him.

Everything changed when his master passed and he was sold to another family. There he met Hikaru, the master’s third son, whose charming demeanor shined brighter than the sun. Hikaru took interest in Akuji. Constantly asking him questions, bringing him fresh foods, and his favorite, reading to him. He loved to hear the noble man’s voice, quickly falling in love with the man’s beautiful personality, but would never let him know. His imagination run wild as he got lost in Hikaru’s stories.

Poems, at first, frustrated Akuji, preferring people to say what they mean instead of speaking in flowery words and metaphors. Fairy tales, myths and legends, tales of heroics, were more fascinating. Hikaru would smile and ask him what his favorite story was, and that’s when Akuji revealed that he couldn’t read, but he enjoyed every story Hikaru read to him. The noble son was determined to teach him. Day turned into weeks, as Hikaru took the painstaking task of teaching to read.

One time, Akuji was cleaning Hikaru’s study, and stopped for a moment to try to read a book that was left open on his desk, not knowing the importance of it. When Hikaru’s eldest brother, Takeo catches him and accuses him of trying to steal family secrets. Takeo brings him before the Master and Lady of the house, demanding his head for treason. Hikaru pleaded with his father, explains that he was teaching Akuji how to read and that he was only curious.

The Master was disgusted that his son would waste his time teaching him to read. “Might as well teach an ant politics, it’s a concept that would do no good, neither benefit them.” As punishment, the Master demands Takeo bring him Akuji’s ear, and to never set foot in the house again. “The saturnine mongrel will sleep outside where he belongs.”

Hikaru checked on him the next few days, while Akuji pleaded for him to not come near him. He couldn’t stand for someone so handsome, so bright, to see him disfigured. More importantly, he doesn’t want Hikaru to be punished if he was seen around him.

Hikaru admits to finding Akuji beautiful just as he is, he always has. And he would do anything to prove it to him. The noble man takes Akuji away from the stable in the middle of the night, to a secluded area. Away from the guards, away from society and anybody that could find them, and they make love.

Weeks later, Hikaru is betrothed to a young woman from another higher caste family. It breaks Akuji’s heart, but he regretfully accepts the reality.

Until Hikaru comes to him in the dead of night, telling him he broke off the engagement and her family is trying to take revenge. They need to get out of the city tonight, with the help of Havik and Darrius. Hikaru explains that these two men are leading a rebellion against Seido’s government, and are willing to help Akuji and him escape.

As they escape, they get ambushed by Seidan guards and Hikaru forces the two men to take Akuji away while he fights them off. Akuji screams as he watches the man he loves get cut down.

Havik and Darrius bring Akuji to the sorcerer, Quan Chi, and the witch, Adrienne. Providing them shelter and a means to eventually topple Seido’s government, given that they are allowed to experiment on the three of them to provide powers that will aide them.

Akuji agrees, not seeing what the downside would be. If he dies, he will rejoin his lover.

Adrienne makes a concoction infused with ectoplasm and her tarantula familiar’s venom, and painted sigils on his body with her shadow magic. It took days for him to recover, but eventually he gained the powers of Miasma and Dream Eating.

Looking through the bag Hikaru gave him before he died, he finds the book of poems and stories he would read to him. He guards it like his life depends on it.

He forgoes the name Akuji, that name belonged to his beloved and him alone. He chooses the name Saturnine, and Seido will pay for what they have done.

~*~*~*~*~*~

MK story tag list: @bihanspookies

[tealingual]

Israel Genocide in Gaza vocabulary in Finnish

Israel - Israel Israelilainen - Israeli Palestiina - Palestine Palestiinalainen - Palestinian Gazan kaista - Gaza Strip Hamas - Hamas Vastarintaliike - resistance movement Terroristijärjestö - terrorist organization Israelin puolustusvoimat - IDF Asevoimat, armeija - military, army Sotilas - soldier Komentaja, päällikkö, johtaja - commander Sionismi - Zionism Sionisti - Zionist Radikaali juutalaisuus, äärijuutalaisuus - radical Jewishness, Jewish extremism Juutalainen ylivalta - Jewish supremacy Rasismi - racism Syrjintä - discrimination Rotusyrjintä - racial discrimination Palestiinalaisvastaisuus - Anti-Palestinianism Arabivastaisuus - Anti-Arabism Arabophobia - arabophobia Islamophobia - islamophobia Sulku, saarto - blockage Kollektiivinen rangaistus - collective punishment Pakkosiirto - forced transfer Kolonialismi - colonialism Apartheid - apartheid Etninen puhdistus - ethnic cleansing Kansanmurha - genocide Väkivalta - violence Verilöyly - massacre Hyökkäys - attack Maahyökkäys - ground attack Tankki, panssarivaunu - tank Ilmaisku - airstrike Taistelukone - combat aircraft Hävittäjä - fighter plane, destroyer Räjähde - explosive Raketti - rocket Ohjus - missile Pommi - bomb Atomipommi - atomic bomb Valkoinen fosfori - white phosphorus Tulitauko - ceasefire Kohde - target Sairaala - hospital Ambulanssi - ambulance Koulu - school Pakolaisleiri - refugee camp Moskeija - mosque Kirkko - church Kauppa - store Leipomo - bakery Hautausmaa - cematary Asuinrakennus - residential building Aurinkopaneeli - solar panel Avustuskuljetus - aid delivery Humanitaarinen käytävä - humanitarian corridor Evakuointikäytävä - evacuation corridor Rajanylityspaikka - border crossing Aseistautumaton - unarmed Siviili - civilian Uhri - victim Pakolainen - refugee Panttivanki - hostage Loukkaantunut - injured Kadonnut - missing Ruoka - food Vesi - water Polttoaine - fuel Sähkö - electricity Internet - internet Tietoliikenne - telecommunications Raunio, kivimurska - rubble Pöly - dust Kaasu - gas Ulosteet - excrements, feces, waste Mädäntynyt - rotten Ruumis - corpse, dead body Veri - blood Haju - smell, stink, odor Kärpänen - fly Melu - noise Tauti, sairaus - disease, illness Nälkä - hunger Jano - thirst Unettomuus - lack of sleep, sleeplessness, insomnia Turvattomuus - lack of safety, insecurity Pelko - fear Menetys - loss Trauma - trauma Rikos - crime Ihmisoikeusrikkomus - human rights violation Kansainvälisen oikeuden vastainen rikos - violation of international law Rikos ihmisyyttä vastaan - crime against humanity Sotarikos - war crime Propaganda - propaganda Vale - lie Tekosyy - excuse Vastuu - responsibility Syy - blame; reason Hyökätä - to attack Kostaa - to revenge, to avenge, to retaliate Ampua - to shoot Pommittaa - to bomb Iskeä - to strike Tuhota - to destroy, to demolish Vaurioittaa - to damage Rikkoa - to break; to violate Tappaa - to kill Murhata - to murder Teurastaa - to slaughter Haavoittaa - to injure Estää - to block Katkaista - to cut