#pathogen brute

[anon-is-a-simp]

[r473n]

Very short fluffy KenMayu oneshot for Valentine’s Day, hope you enjoy.

Shout out to @mikachii-mayurin for the prompt ❤️😊

Link to AO3

No trigger warnings... first time for everything, I guess 🤣

-------------------❤️💙❤️💙‐-----------------------------

“Zaraki, NO! Stay where you are!” Mayuri squealed, watching, powerless, as the 11th division Captain ignored him completely and burst through the door like a frenzied bull, carrying a large paper bag in his arms.

“My deepest apologies, Mayuri sama.” Nemu rushed behind him and bowed stiffly from the door. “I tried to warn Zaraki-taichou that your orders were strictly no visitors but-“

“That's alright, Nemu, you are dismissed.” He waved his bony hand at her. He could tell just how pissed off she was at herself for not preventing the situation - her constrained body language, an impossible enigma for most, spoke to him as clearly as if she was screaming her rage. She turned around, not before giving him one last cryptic look, and closed the door quietly behind herself.

Zaraki stood awkwardly there, in the middle of his private quarters, his size much too big, his reiatsu suffocating in intensity even with his eyepatch on, making the entire room feel like it was collapsing in on itself.

“Brought you soup.” He chirped in his husky voice, and smiling stupidly, he set off to place everything he had in his bag on Mayuri’s desk, having shoved all his carefully organised papers and trinkets aside with a careless brush of his massive hand.

Mayuri sighed wearily – he was way too tired to argue with that stubborn man. He was paintless, still in his futon, propped up on a mountain of pillows, surrounded by used tissues and feeling stuffy and shivery – this was the last thing he needed! “Zaraki, what in hell do you think you’re doing? I told you I was sick, you cannot be here!” He whined, placing the report he was writing on his bed side table

“It’s Valentine’s day.” The brute replied matter-of-factly without looking at him, pouring the contents of a thermos into two bowls.

“What? Who cares? Certainly not I and surely not you!”

“I care.” He shrugged.

“Oh, nonsense! Will you stop that and look at me, barbarian? I'm talking to you!!”

With a grunt of annoyance the giant turned to face him, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “I'm looking, what now?”

Mayuri gritted his teeth at his cocky tone. “Do you think that this is a common cold, that something banal and treatable would affect someone like me? Is your skull so damn thick that you can’t understand that whatever has caused ME to be bedridden must be extremely pathogenic, highly contagious, lethal, unstoppable? Do you think that my self-imposed quarantine is some silly rule I made up? That it doesn’t apply to you? Do you think YOU would be immune to something that can infect ME?”

“Yeah... to all of that. Now, can I keep getting this stuff ready or you got any more shit you wanna say?”

Mayuri growled, “Oh, you unbearable savage! Ouch!” his headache was pounding. He pressed his palm against his temple and reached for yet another pill... he had lost count of how many he’d been popping in the last 2 days, not that they were helping much.

“Hah, weakling.” Finally satisfied with the presentation, Zaraki brought over the wooden bed tray table he had so carefully set up and placed it in front of Mayuri. On it were two steaming hot bowls of soup, two cups of green tea, a bunch of sweet mochi and a little red candle. “Miso soup, made it just like you taught me, even measured the temperature before I added the paste to make sure I wouldn’t kill the good bacteria and fuck up the flavour.”

“Huh... won’t be able to taste a thing with this congestion anyway...” Mayuri griped, out of habit, but was truly surprised that Zaraki had remembered such details. “What is the candle for?”

“Ambiance.” The brute replied, lighting it with a match.

Mayuri scoffed with derision, feeling his cheeks heat up against his will. “This is absurd, Zaraki, you shouldn’t have-“

“Oh, shut it. I'm trying to do something nice for once, can’t you just fucking enjoy it?” Kenpachi carefully sat on the futon next to him, reclining against the wall.

“Ugh!” He rolled his eyes but grabbed a spoon and tasted the food, humming with appreciation at the rich flavour. “This is surprisingly adequate.”

“Surprisingly?” Zaraki asked, a teasing smirk across his handsome face.

“Very.” He chuckled mischievously.

They sat in silence, enjoying the food and the company for long minutes. Mayuri loved that about Zaraki – not that he would ever admit to such a thing – the man only spoke if he had something to say, he never felt the need to fill up gaps with mind-numbing small talk.

“You do realise you are now a risk to others, yes?” Mayuri queried, taking a sip of his tea – it was delicious, if a bit strong.

“When haven’t I been?”

“You know what I mean! Even if you don’t develop symptoms, you might still be a carrier.”

“So? I'll just stay here with you until the quarantine is over.” Zaraki shrugged, unfazed. “That way I can take care of you.”

“Don't make me laugh, you can hardly take care of yourself...” He grumbled, blushing fiercely. He knew Kenpachi could read him like a book without his paint.

When they were finished, Zaraki blew the candle off and put the tray away, slouching on the futon a little more comfortably. Mayuri couldn’t fight the temptation to snuggle against his vast chest, nuzzling it a little. He felt so tired again, his body betraying him, feeble and fallible.

“So... what are the symptoms I might get? What is it you caught?” Zaraki wondered, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

Mayuri mumbled something he hoped would be unintelligible.

“A what?”

“A damn cold!” He repeated testily. “Now shut up, I need to sleep.”

Zaraki shook with thunderous laughter. “You’re something else, Kurotsuchi. You got the entire division in a level five emergency shutdown for a fucking cold?”

“It’s a bad one! It felt deathly.” He complained. “My throat was so raspy I thought I might have some mutated strain of Corynebacterium diphtheriae, but the swabs revealed it’s just a stupid rhinovirus. A pathetic HRV-C11, uh! I'm already working on a vaccine, this shan’t happen agai-“ his chest tightened painfully and he began coughing loudly, his eyes watering with the strain.

Zaraki rubbed gentle circles on his back until the fit receded. “Right, calm down, you get too excited when you talk about sciency stuff.”

“Huh... I feel like shit.” He moaned, shivering. “My toes are freezing, pull that blanket over me.”

“Tsk, the great Mayuri Kurotsuchi defeated by the common cold...” Zaraki teased, covering them with the soft blanket. He pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, feeling the smaller man melt in his arms and whispered. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Kurotsuchi.”

[the-fairytale-cowboy]

Shrinking Courage - Blackjack x Kei Kisaragi G/T Fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61994719/chapters/158535130

Chapter One: First Symptoms

Words: 2,011

Creator Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

(share to tumblr widget not working so I had to ad-lib this thing myself x_x)

Full chapter under cut for those who want to read it here.

"That guy swung first... I swears it..." the large, sweaty man in a tank top which was probably white at some point grumbled, clinging to his side with a knuckly, hairy hand.

"That doesn't matter to me, Mr. Rettig." Kei Kisaragi answered. His cold and stoic composure calls for attention. He had to present like this, given his stature like a newborn deer.  "I'm concerned with whether or not you got concussed when you fell back during that wave."

The large man rolled his eyes. "I don't need no check-up. I feel fine!" The brute attempted to stand, only to be knocked back onto the table as Kei's feet remained steady. "Waves. Like you said..."

"That was regular sway, Mr. Rettig... something I'd expect a seasoned seaman to handle," Kei stated, turning to face him. "Lay down." Despite the difference in size, he managed to make the man lay flat on the cot before pulling out his Ophthalmoscope and peering into his patient's eyes.

"Alright." He stated, tucking it away after seeing some cloudiness, "Follow my finger, with your eyes." After a handful of neurological tests, he sighed. "Well, Mr. Rettig, it appears you aren't concussed. Just clumsy." taking off his glasses and wiping them off on his shirt hem.

The large man stood up and laughed. "Aye, long as I ain't stumbling over the railing I'll be just fine!" He walked towards the door of the clinic, gripping the handle as another sway sent him stumbling. "Hope I don't gotta see you again! Well- y'know."

Kei smirked. "Yes. That would be for the be- est..." He paused after. He coughed. He just coughed. The scratch in his throat sent a shiver up his spine.

The large man simply waved as he waddled out, to which Kei answered with a forced smile and wave before having a brief hacking fit. A boat's ecosystem is a sensitive one. Despite their large statures, he knew one little pathogen could quickly spread among the sailors and be exacerbated by the strenuous work.

Of course, a cough could just be that. A cough. When it didn't return he was not worried, up until late at night when it came back with a vengeance. Almost like hay fever.

When he felt dizzy and fatigued the next day, he knew what he had to do. He left his cabin which was deep within the lower deck and headed up to the captain's quarters. Navigating through narrow aisleways with big metal pipes, cables, and the occasional gauge or valve. Interworkings of a giant beast he did not understand.

"Hi, Captain." He gave the man a weary smile as he entered. Even though the captain was a generally respectful man and had a stout shape, he still commanded respect with his posture and stoic demeanor. "I've come to request medical leave."

The Captain nodded. "And why would that be?" He was already moving to take a form out of his drawer, clicking a pen.

"Well, I've recently developed a cough and can't remain steady." He answered.

"Could be that you're stuck in that clinic all day."

"Probably."

"I'll give you a week off. Paid." With a pen flourish, he signed his name and pointed to the line where he expected Kei to sign his own. Kei spent the rest of the day in his clinic, wearing a mask and keeping visitations light until they docked at Sendai.

As he stepped out onto the deck, the crisp air of night embraced him. He was used to walking alone late at night. He'd done it all the time when he was younger and weaker. He walked purposefully to a motel he selected specifically for its low ratings. He needed a place where he'd be unlikely to spread his cold.

His symptoms only got worse. The coughing becoming more frequent and aggressive coupled with big, blotchy rashes had appeared on his trunk and arms which caused him alarm, prompting him to call his captain to plead for an extended leave.

The new symptoms were given little challenge, and a second week was approved. Kei paced around his room, as he was certain this wasn't just a cold by now. To calm his nerves and treat his symptoms he decided he needed a hot drink.

Reaching into the cupboard, he found it difficult to retrieve the mug he placed up there. Even after rising on the balls of his feet, he had to stretch a bit to reach it. After making himself some hot tea, he noticed that in the mirror, he could see more of the generic painting hanging on the wall. Just above his head.

He took a swig of his drink, marching over to the small desk in the corner to journal about his symptoms. A practice he had picked up since going into the medical field. He jotted down his pulse, blood pressure, and temperature. 

Everything was slightly elevated, and he always had shortness of breath. He had a nagging thought in his mind that he should measure himself, but vibrations from cars and doors slammed can move objects, and distance from a mirror can make someone seem smaller than they are.

He stared at the phone. He wanted to call his friend, but he didn't want to waste his time with something that he could probably treat himself. Instead, he finished his tea and went back to bed. His itchy throat and skin coupled with his anxiety prevented him from getting rest.

The next morning, he felt so hot but wouldn't stop shaking to the point of his teeth chattering. He reached for his thermometer on the bedside table. His arm which used to be steady enough to suture wounds on a turbulent boat was now shaking like an aspen leaf. He managed to slam his hand down on top of it and bring it up to his face as his arm swayed.

He bit down hard to just try and hold it in place so it wouldn't fall out of his mouth. Although he expected it, his spirit fell a little to see his fever had indeed gone up. He dropped the thermometer with no care if he'd ever reclaim it from the sheets as he propped himself up.

Propping himself up against the wall, or on furniture, he stumbled over to the phone. He lifted it from its stand and collapsed in the chair, pressing his elbow down on the desk to stabilize his arm as he tried to punch in the phone number of his old friend.

He listened with his breath held as it rang once, twice, then a third time. His hope waned until he heard a click.

"Hello? Dr. Blackjack speaking. What is the purpose of your call?" A deep voice with trepidacious professionalism came through. Kei let out a long exhale of relief upon hearing it.

"Kuroo-" he was cut off by another coughing fit. "I'm in Sendai and I've come down with--- something---"

"Kei?!" Blackjack exclaimed. "Where are you, exactly?" He asked, already retrieving what medical supplies he could reach being tethered to an antiquated landline phone.

Kei informed him of his location and room number. Before he could get another word in Blackjack had hung up. He was probably rushing over, which he convinced himself was just common practice for the man given his reputation but he knew it displayed a level of care he wasn't often known for.

He clambered back over to the bed and stared at the ceiling, feeling some respite in the fact that the best doctor was on his way to check him over. This was the hardest part, just waiting. He had the equipment to do so, but in his current condition, he knew starting an IV would be difficult. Let alone walking over to his bag to retrieve a bottle of antibiotics.

The loud banging on his door nearly made him throw up, "Q-quiet!" he called back, his voice weak and hoarse. Once again propping himself against the wall, he moved towards the door. As he pulled the door open he had to hold onto the knob for stability.

Blackjack watched in stunned shock as his friend fell to his knees. It took him a moment to reach down to help him up, simply because he expected Kei to pick himself up as he usually did.

After helping him back to the bed, Kei pointed to the desk. "My journal over there has all my symptoms for the last week."

Blackjack began flipping through it, reading the entries with a furrowed brow. "Where has the boat been?" he asked.

"Ugh... some ports in Africa and Asia. I can't remember them all off the top of my head."

"Any local outbreaks you can remember?"

"No."

Blackjack sighed. "Did you ever eat the local cuisine?"

"Sometimes. The sailors would bring me back something or I'd explore myself."

Blackjack nodded. "It's probably scarlet fever. I'm taking you to my clinic."

Kei chuckled. "Well... I've only got a few days left of medical leave."

"What's the number of your captain?"

Kei informed him and he dialed the number. "Hi, this is Doctor Blackjack. Yes. The guy who extorts dying rich people." He sighed. Not bothering to defend himself against the rumors. "Your employee, Kei Kisaragi has a case of scarlet fever. He needs extended leave."

Kei could hear the captain ranting in Blackjack's ear, but couldn't make out all he was saying. "Yes. I'm estimating around twenty million yen... yes you can send a check to me. Thank you."

He gave a rare, amused smile at Kei. "Your boss is very generous."

That got a small chuckle from the weakened man, making Blackjack feel a bit light even if his visage remained unchanged. "You didn't need to do that... I would've paid."

Blackjack scoffed. "I see you're still reluctant to accept help. If I didn't know any better I'd say the time you took between your first symptoms and contacting me was another reckless gamble on your part."

Kei rolled his eyes. "I didn't think I'd need you. I thought it was just a cold!"

Blackjack let out a sigh. "Still I..." he muttered. "Nevermind. Let's get you to my clinic." he walked towards the door. "Do you need help?"

"No," Kei answered, standing himself up. Blackjack raised a brow.

"Let me rephrase." He coughed. "Are you willing to let me help you?"

"No!" Kei stated, before falling once more.

"There is a full flight of stairs we need to descend."

"Fine. Yes." He stated.

Blackjack offered his hand, and Kei gripped onto it. It felt like being lifted by a crane with how strong his grip was and the ease with which he pulled him to his feet. He let Kei cling to his arm as they walked out of the motel and down to his car.

"I'll get your things," Blackjack stated as he helped Kei into the passenger seat. He was only gone for a moment as he gathered up what Kei had unpacked. He only had one suitcase, since practically living on a boat as a full-time doctor doesn't exactly allow you to have much in the way of material possessions.

The drive to the clinic was quiet, except for a few coughing fits from Kei. Kei wasn't sure if Blackjack wanted to talk about the last few years. His face was like a statue. Handsome yet unmoving from his predetermined expression.

Blackjack wasted no time getting him into an examination chair and taking a few different tests. Cheek swab, urine, and blood. The cheek and blood test revealed something that concerned Blackjack. The cells in the slide were smaller than expected.

He brought the results to Kei, allowing him to look at the slides himself. "I don't see anything." Kei dismissed. "Do you think I have a parasite?"

"Maybe..." Blackjack muttered. "I'll start a general treatment. Something for both parasites and viral infections." He answered, bringing Kei to his ward and leaving him to rest for the remainder of the day.

[scrunglepaws]

(Key for who's who)

Yeah, the Kits are mostly freaks, just ignore them. dkfjsldsdf The boys in the middle all come from very harsh backgrounds and will do what they gotta do. Y'all know about Nine, his backstory is the same as canon. CT-Mangey grew up in a jungle with dinosaurs+ect megafauna and all his sentient neighbors were super aggressive. CT-Kit grew up as an orphan in poverty, living on the city streets. Sails grew up in a cutthroat, post-apocalyptic endless sea of pirates with few resources. Not 100% sure on all of them, but Sails and Kelpie have definitely taken lives before.

Doing the strength/combat skill ones made me hate power scaling because I kept futzing with them and making micro-adjustments. To settle some of the placements on the strength chart, I asked myself "Between these two, who would win an arm wrestling match?" xD Kelpies have mythical levels of strength, so he had to be very high up there. CT-Mangey is essentially werehog Tails, so that's sort of like magical strength too, plus he's huge. Kit cheats by being a cyborg. I imagine Mangey and Tails have similar levels of strength, but with the arm-wrestling thing in mind, Mangey pulls ahead just a little. Mangey is constantly active as well, while adult Tails spends less and less time adventuring/fighting in favor of being in his lab/workshop. Mangey is just bigger as well. Sails is a bit lower just by being smaller, scrawnier, and malnourished (… D8). Nine is also a lot skinnier and malnourished (more to poor diet rather than overall lack of food), and is even less active than the others. He's more built for stealth and avoiding confrontations. CT-Kit and Folklore Tails are basically wusses. xD They're not specifically -frail- though, so I didn't feel the need to push them aaaall the way to the left.

The combat skill one was a little bit easier, though I still fussed with it. Obviously, Tails has a ton of experience with all of the wacky adventures he's been on. Kit was basically "born" into immediately training and fighting for his life. Regardless if he hasn't used these skills in a long time, they don't just vanish. Sails has seen some shit. This is where Nine drifts apart from his canon depiction (who I imagine has much less skill from being a stealthy lurker). Even though he mostly avoids scraps with others, he does a lot of research/training in his lab just out of paranoia/preparedness. Mangey used to be very unskilled, but trained to learn the various fighting techniques of his Boscage buddies, so he's got some tricks up his sleeve. CT-Mangey is just an overall brute that can defend himself in general scraps, but doesn't have much experience with technique or anything like that. I'm actually a bit unsure about CT-Kit? Despite growing up on the streets, I imagine he wasn't really the brawling type. Instead he learned all of the social cues/ect on how to stay out of dangerous peoples' paths. Kelpie is hella strong and can just smash/chomp you, but… He's never actually been in a fight, I don't think? I mean, who would be dumb enough to try. Folklore Tails is a pansy and I love him for it.

Nine and CT-Kit are from the city. They're smart and intuitive, but being 100% out of their element? Yeah, they dead. Kit's a bit more to the right because of when he and Surge were sort of in the wilderness after Starline died, but they mostly had the amenities of that base. Also, Kit could easily catch fish and purify water if he had his pack. And I imagine the metal virus would be decent at protecting him against most pathogens, so he could get away with eating raw fish. But he's still quite out of his element, so I dunno about him lasting a super long time.

[mwolf0epsilon]

The Umbaran Pathogen - Day 6: Mind Control

Summary: The parasite that had burrowed into Tup's nervous system and altered his brain chemistry had more than taken a hold. It had begun to slowly turn Tup from the sweet caring brother he was, into a mockery of his former self. His mind so out of it that he no longer cared that he had completely overwritten his twin's free will into a vague idea of a happy and relaxed lackey.

Warning: Mentions of blood drinking, egg implantation, parasites, body horror and organic fleshy material used as a construction base (this chapter is a little bit gross but it's nothing too descriptive, just conceptual).

Prev / Next

[In which the events on Umbara are worsened by an unknown pathogen taking hold of both the 501st and 212th. These series of drabbles will follow a non-linear timeline based on the AI-less Whumptober prompt list for 2023.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

Tup couldn't help but smile as he felt the cool Umbaran breeze in his hair. His armour and helmet had begun to feel so terribly stuffy as of late, that being able to zip about with his face exposed for just a few minutes felt absolutely heavenly.

Alas it was but a fleeting moment of bliss, since it was not yet time for him to shed this plastoid shell. Not yet at least...

Everything was still (frustratingly) in the initial preparatory stages. Resources needed to be collected, more eggs needed to be planted in the Worker Cast candidates, and the Hive needed to be properly constructed to house all of those who'd be pupating soon. His loyal Drone had been doing a phenomenal job thus far. So eager to please. So happy to do whatever needed to be done to make Tup a happy, healthy and strong Hive Leader. Unshakably loyal.

He couldn't imagine why he'd ever been nervous when he'd first began to size Dogma up for this particular task. This new role of his. Nor could he remember why he'd felt so revolted when he'd first drawn blood from his little brother, to begin the vital egg production phase of their newfound life-cycles.

It was unfathomable to him why he'd found this heinous or disgusting. Especially now that he could see the end results.

Sure there was an absolutely gag-worthy ugly duckling stage. When the implantation spot first flared up in a desperate but futile attempt to fight against the little Larvae that emerged from the egg. The rash wasn't nice to look at, and the way it eventually spread as the body began to fully integrate the new genetic coding was... Well it was a little gross to bare witness to...

Dogma had looked pretty horrific when the changes overtook him. The pus-filled blisters and boils, the crusty eyes and dribbling nose, the pain on his feverish face had all but broken Tup's heart as he kept checking in on his pupating sibling.

He'd been more resistant than Tup had been to the lesser parasite's influence. Had tried to fight it off and even seek outside help from the medics. But then he'd finally succumbed to dronification completely, and his defiance had become open acceptance of his new nature. His mind calm, collected and his to do with as he wished.

And Tup wanted nothing more than to make his little brother happy. Make him feel safe. Which he did whenever he was near Tup. So he was doing a finer job than anyone else on this wretched planet.

The moment his rotting flesh sloughed off from his trembling body was also one to remember. The slick black and blue carapace, the long luminous wings and strong limbs, that powerful stinger, the twitching antennae and sharp mandibles...

He'd made his frightened and gangling little brother into a powerhouse. A warrior of epic proportions. Tup had made him into something infinitely stronger and more beautiful than any mere clone could ever hope to be, and yearned to do the same to all of the remaining vode. To make them better, stronger, less likely to be killed by that... That horrid brute...

The thought of Krell made Tup's blissful expression take on a much more sour note. The delight at feeling the cool wind lost, as he considered how to best deal with the Besalisk bastard that threatened his Hive's safety. That monster needed to be dealt with. Sooner rather than later, otherwise the few he'd already infected might not make it to the Pupa stage. The Nest needed to be finished soon. Which meant they needed more Larvae to begin producing material for construction.

That was exactly what they were doing. Dogma effortlessly carrying Tup between the 501st and 212th basecamps. Giving him ample opportunity to lay more eggs and spirit away those who housed a newly hatched Larvae to their forever home.

All organic matter they shed made fine building materials for a proper cozy nest. Insulating walls, cushioning surfaces, creating the perfect living space for Tup's Hive, and providing a surface for which the fungi and flowering plants they needed to thrive off of to grow on. They'd be self sustaining, seldom needing to go out hunting unless protein provisions ran low. Once Tup could finally pupate and become his bigger stronger more beautiful self, he'd be able to protect and provide for his family. His beloved Hive brothers.

And that was a thought that had him smiling again, pressing his face to the crook of Dogma's neck as he continued to carry him to and fro. Pleased to help in Tup's progress towards power and control. Relishing in his Hive Leader's noticeable satisfaction as he chaperoned him through the air.

Tup loved the new them. He was sure the rest of their brothers would love their new selves just as much. If not, then he'd simply make them. The Hive Leader knew best, after all.

[kineticpenguin]

The long-established principles governing how we respond to new infectious diseases have now completely changed – the precedent has been established that dangerous emerging pathogens will no longer be contained, but instead permitted to ‘ease’ into widespread circulation. The intent to “let it rip” in the future is now being openly communicated84. With this change in policy comes uncertainty about acceptable lethality. Just how bad will an infectious disease have to be to convince any government to mobilize a meaningful global public health response? We have some clues regarding that issue from what happened during the initial appearance of the Omicron “variant” (which was really a new serotype85,86) of SARS-CoV-2. Despite some experts warning that a vaccine-only approach would be doomed to fail, governments gambled everything on it. They were then faced with the brute fact of viral evolution destroying their strategy when a new serotype emerged against which existing vaccines had little effect in terms of blocking transmission. The reaction was not to bring back NPIs but to give up, seemingly regardless of the consequences. 

[powerpulsemag]

The Most Dangerous Animal in the World: A Deadly Truth with a Tiny Bite By Asia Published in Power Pulse Magazine

When we think of the most dangerous animals on Earth, images of snarling lions, stealthy sharks, or venomous snakes often come to mind. But nature has a way of surprising us—and the most lethal creature in the animal kingdom is not a predator lurking in the jungle or ocean. It's one you’ve likely swatted away without a second thought: the mosquito.

Tiny Killer, Global Impact Mosquitoes are responsible for more deaths than any other animal on the planet. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), mosquito-borne diseases kill over 700,000 people each year. These fragile-looking insects are carriers of deadly illnesses such as malaria, dengue fever, Zika virus, West Nile virus, and chikungunya—infections that cause severe illness and can rapidly overwhelm public health systems.The Anopheles, Aedes, and Culex genera are particularly notorious. In sub-Saharan Africa, malaria—spread by the Anopheles mosquito—remains a leading cause of death for children under five. In tropical and urban areas, the Aedes aegypti species wreaks havoc, spreading dengue fever with alarming speed.Why Mosquitoes Are So Dangerous

What makes the mosquito such an efficient killer is not brute force, but biological strategy. They serve as vectors—transmitters of pathogens from one host to another. Once infected with a virus or parasite, a mosquito can spread disease with each blood meal it takes. Add to that their ability to breed in tiny amounts of water, adapt to changing climates, and develop resistance to insecticides, and you have a perfect storm for global health crises.Human Efforts to Fight BackThe fight against mosquito-borne diseases is ongoing. Scientists are deploying tools like genetically modified mosquitoes, insecticide-treated bed nets, vaccines, and environmental control measures to stop transmission. In 2021, the first malaria vaccine—RTS,S/AS01—was approved by the WHO, marking a monumental step forward.Still, billions remain at risk, especially in developing countries where health infrastructure is weak. The mosquito’s impact isn’t just medical—it’s economic and social, too, with entire communities facing cycles of illness, poverty, and limited growth due to recurring outbreaks.

The VerdictLions may be kings of the jungle and sharks rulers of the deep, but when it comes to sheer danger, no animal rivals the mosquito. It’s not the size of the predator—it’s the scale of the threat.So the next time you hear that high-pitched buzz in your ear, remember: you’re face-to-face with the deadliest animal in the world.

[the-outer-topic]

Battletech: the water problem(I)

I asked Grok too many questions, so this time I asked ChatGPT about one of the key elements of the Battletech setting: there are plenty of available worlds for colonization, more or less with Terran characteristics. Forcibly, if a planet it's Terra like, then there's plenty of water in it. The trick is that not always it's drinkable. Here is my original question followed by the IA answer in the next post

I noticed that in the House Liao Sourcebook entry for Mira they define one industry from the planet as "sea mining", I interpreted it as offshore drilling, but it says they literally extract minerals from sea warer, quote "the Molotosky purification process for recovering minerals from sea water — leaving purified drinking water and saleable byproducts — was developed."

Now water purification it's a big issue in the Battletech universe as it's today and just for desalinization of salt water, not counting into account contamination by pathogens or harmful substances dissolved in water such as heavy metals or radioactive fallout.

Explore current water purification technology which involve osmosis membranes, filters and high pressures or simply evaporation and condensation that it's energy intensive and leaves the problem of the salty residue solid or liquid brine and how to dispose of it.

It appears that the problem to make desalinized water economical and cheaper is one of energy inputs, in the science fiction universe there's available fusion engines, which could generate water from evaporation and condensation, but that leaves the problem of disposing of brine, so brute power it's likely not the answer.

The problem is described in House Kurita Sourcebook pages 12, 13 under "Water Shortage" header. There are plenty of planets with acceptable Terran like characteristics but the problem is the lack of water suitable for drinking, manufacturing and agriculture. Now, microbes can be killed by boiling water, or in tap water by clorine or ozone, so that's not the issue, the problem was quote "Biological toxins,light and heavy metals, soluble radioactives, and other poisonous substances permeated large bodies of water on many …otherwise hospitable words"

Question: how plausible is that as an answer? I believe if a world has Earth like characteristics even if ocean salt water is not drinkable there should be enough water available through rainfall on land. The sourcebook goes on saying that the problem even if "fresh" water is available it often gets polluted by agriculture, industry and sewage, which seems to be a more crucial limiting factor. In present day there's plenty of water in Lake Baikal or in polar caps but we can't get it where it's needed. Since colonies are clustered around an initial point like a mineral ore deposit in a mining colony or a strip of fertile land in a farming way it's easy to see how the initial fresh water supply could be polluted in any starting colony specially given the lack of infrastructure for sewage treatment. So an early colony would resemble 19th century London in the industrial revolution before modern sewers were built by Joseph Bazalgette and then there's the problem of sewage treatment plants to consider. There was lot of water in London but the Thames river water was not drinkable.

Seems the issue is filtration as water is an universal solvent, not only the filtration of salt in sea water, but whatever gets dissolved in water. To borrow from real life Terra examples, water could be too acidic or alcaline, or a planet rich in minerals in the crust could have plenty of surface water but this be contaminated by the metals in the soil, like the river Rio Tinto in Huelva in Spain wich is unsuitable for life and proabably can't be drinkable.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rio_Tinto_(river)

[xtruss]

'Megalodon' Goldfish Found In Pennsylvania Waterway — And Now Officials Are Issuing A Warning To Pet Owners

Releasing a Goldfish into the Wild Can Create "An Invasive Problem that Can last Decades," the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Said

— By Brenton Blanchet | March 1, 2025

U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service: Corey Ketchum shows off a ‘Megalodon’ Goldfish recovered from a Pennsylvania Waterway. U.S. Fish And Wildlife Service/FaceBook. Your pet store goldfish after two years in the wild: ‘Call Me Megalodon.’ This goldfish isn’t supposed to be here. But someone released it, thinking they were being kind. Instead, they created an invasive problem that can last decades. Goldfish grow massive in the wild, where they can turn lakes and waterways into murky messes, steal food from native fish, and wreck water quality. If you can’t keep your fish, rehome it. Just don’t let it loose.

A bigger-than-usual discovery in Pennsylvania has prompted officials to warn what happens when "cute" turns to "brute" — as they're reminding the public that leaving a pet goldfish in the wild can create an "invasive problem that can last decades."

On Tuesday, Feb. 25, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) revealed on Facebook that experts spotted — and recovered — what they are calling a "megalodon" goldfish during a recent electrofishing survey in a Presque Isle State Park waterway.

Now, the agency is using the discovery to remind the public exactly why the aquatic creature "isn’t supposed to be here."

"Someone released it, thinking they were being kind. Instead, they created an invasive problem that can last decades," the USFWS wrote in a caption.

"Goldfish grow massive in the wild, where they can turn lakes and waterways into murky messes, steal food from native fish, and wreck water quality," the agency added. "If you can’t keep your fish, re-home it. Just don’t let it loose."

After posting a photo of USFWS employee Corey Ketchum holding the fish — which appears to be significantly larger than a standard at-home goldfish — the agency added the hashtag, "#InvasiveSpeciesWeek." Another image in the comments section, shared by the USFWS, showed another agency official holding the fish with two hands.

"From cute to brute," the agency captioned the snap.

From Cute To Brute! USFWS's Corey Ketchum holds a giant goldfish discovered in a Pennsylvania waterway. U.S. Fish And Wildlife Service/FaceBook

Elsewhere in the post's comments, the USFWS shared some insight into "how to break up with your goldfish," before amplifying a concern from a commenter about goldfish being used as bait.

"It's legal in 16 states to use goldfish as bait. All the states create their own fishing regulations, so it's up to each state on what they allow for bait fish," the USFWS clarified. "We always encourage anglers to never dump their bait after they're done fishing. Bait dumping is one of the many ways invasive aquatic species and pathogens are introduced into waterways."

The average lifespan of a goldfish in the wild is 41 years, according to National Geographic, which reports that they can top 5 lbs. in the wild. As previously reported in late 2023, goldfish have become an issue in the Great Lakes specifically, with an expert noting at the time that "millions" were swimming around.

They Can Reach Tremendous Sizes! This One Was 9lbs.

According to the USFWS' website, wild goldfish can "balloon into giant, football-sized invaders that compete with native species for food and habitat." Specifically, the species can make water murky, stir up sediment and uproot plants since they are bottom feeders, making it harder for native fish and plants to survive the environment.

Aside from their quick growth and disruption of water quality, goldfish spawn several times a season and have no natural predators, meaning they "multiply quickly" and stick around for a while, per the USFWS. They can also carry parasites and diseases for which other fish lack immunity.

Goldfish owners looking to part ways with their pets are encouraged to re-home them, return them to a pet store or contact local aquariums or rescue groups.

"Releasing a pet to the wild is never the right thing. Most pets released to the wild do not survive, and many suffer before they die," the USFWS shared on its website. "If it does survive, your pet could become an invasive species that harms native wildlife."

[astralmouseart]

Recent events have really give me a Lovecraftian feelings.

Like reading about what civilians, conscripts and other victims of war go through is just sickening. Nationalists, patriots, professional soldiers, etc. are really a pathogen that is destroying humanity.

Like with how they are kindnapping civilians and force them to wear "legal to kill" clothes and then put them in legal military targets or outright use them as cannon fodder.

Like professional soldiers just love when they have kidnapped civilians they can use as cannon fodder. So much for being "defenders".

Not to mention bombing cities, people's homes, etc.

They are destructive brutes.

If only these hyperviolent chimps would disappear, for example if there would be a sort of a bacteriophage virus that would affect only them. Like imagine world without wars, without gang violence, etc. It would be somewhat more tolerable.

They also believe in this kind of collective responsibility. That being born in some country automatically makes one responsible for what another person from that country does.

That's the Lovecraftian part. They don't really understand the concept of a human being, to them everything is just national or other group masses. They are completely alien in nature.

[mindblowingscience]

Some Salmonella bacteria strains have found a way of evading plant defences and sneaking their way into leafy greens – a strategy that's effective enough to protect them against plant immune systems and from being washed off in the kitchen.

It's a classic trojan horse manoeuvre that's both deeply worrying and impressive in its ingenuity: the route in is through the stomates, the tiny air holes in plant leaves that open and close naturally to allow plants to cool off and breathe.

While fungi and plant bacteria are known to brute-force an entrance into these stomates, it now appears that the Salmonella pathogen that affects humans can push its way in too, effectively getting access to locked doors that it shouldn't be finding a route through.

"What's new is how the non-host bacteria are evolving to bypass plant immune response," says plant biologist Harsh Bais from the University of Delaware.

Continue Reading.

[chiseler]

The Girl up in the Old Hotel

Made in 1972 in the wake of Vietnam, Chantal Akerman’s Hotel Monterey prowls the warm sickly halls of an old New York flophouse á la search-and-destroy. The place must have looked like cold storage at the time, but today it appears almost luxurious – a relic from an era when the poor could still afford a room from the small-time slum operator. By the 1980s, hotels such as the Monterey fell to the liberalization clearances fueling the NYC bankruptcy fire sale, like the old diners that gave your Ma a job for life and the palaces of the Deuce. Who’d have thought that that hoary nemesis of American industry, the mustachioed Evil Landlord, would have won out in the end? In 1971 the gold standard was abandoned, courtesy of Ho Chi Minh and de Gaulle.

Look at where Miss Akerman’s old hotel once stood, then you will see why people believe – poor people, black people, sickened believers – that some pathogen has been loosed by scientists or that the old inhabitants were turned into monster food. Such conspiracies metaphorize the Neo-Medieval policies of the Rentier class, using the lamppost flyer and pulp plotting particular to a desperate but wise underworld of inner-city DPs. Speculative power, phantom liquidity, the gnostic mythos of finance and brute brokerage force – an overpowering propaganda that convinces you to submit your own failure, to give them the last thing you are permitted to own. “We have actually begun to believe that the real guilty party, the one who somehow caused it all, is the victim, and not the perpetrator of the crime.” (Robert Fitch)

Hotel Monterey is silent on soundtrack but it is not really a silent film. Rents accumulate without noise; elevator doors bellow like waxless accordion keys – these things are rendered mute because Akerman is interested in surfaces and not in guessing about a psychology of loneliness. The first shot shows a strangely-placed small mirror in the foyer which reflects the front desk; soon, a hatted figure crosses the frame, right out of a Magritte. It seems to be in late evening in the Monterey, but this may be as deceptive as the hours of a casino. Ackerman is a scientist of the modification of time and the hydra-headed social contract. City housing is a political many, a multiplicity of actions public and private, acted out per square foot in magazine spreads, municipal code and law, and vacant skyscraper floors. The halls and doors of this little hotel conceal a grand machine: the basement is the menial heart, near the end of the film, under decades of express feet. Off Bowery, the year of the pig draws to a close.

The alienation of big cities is best captured by foreigners, who easily perceive the energetic lines of power in billboards and off-ramps, marble faces flashing for a siren moment in a crowd – especially port cities like New York. Miss Akerman makes the slowest, most thrilling films. She ends this one with a narcotic pan over the rooftops, while the sequel, News from Home (1977), follows the different immigrant zones of Hell’s Kitchen at a crawl by car. For all her haunts, Akerman was a materialist with a big nosey heart. Hotel Monterey was made a year prior to the coup in Chile, with Babette Mangolte on camera, who also shot Jeanne Dielman... The Monterey itself is now a Days’ Inn franchise. Rooms are comparatively affordable, from $69 a night.

United Fruit, sponsor of coups and mass killings all over the Americas, merged with United Brands in 1970. In the hands of avant corporate raider Eli Black, it spun out into insolvency and fraud. Black jumped from his office on the 44th floor of the Pan Am Building in 1975. It would have taken him about an hour to walk to the Monterey or twenty minutes by subway.

(watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y7Z-rQAdmYA )

by Martin Billheimer

[razieltwelve]

Dealing With Plagues (Final Rose)

Although the Grimm present the single greatest threat to the survival of civilisation, Remnant does occasionally play host to virulent pathogens of different varieties. Given the concentration of the population into a smaller number of easily defended locations, the potential damage that a pathogen can inflict must be taken seriously. As such, disciplines like epidemiology, virology, and microbiology are all extensively funded and studied.

When a new pathogen is discovered there are several approaches that can be taken.

Semblance Initiatives There are certain Semblances that are uniquely suited to fighting pathogens. In recent years, science has gained access to a Semblance capable of crushing any pathogen: Ragnarok.

By exposing a bearer of Ragnarok to a pathogen and observing how the Semblance destroys it, scientists can learn how best to combat the pathogen. Furthermore, Ragnarok itself is capable of manufacturing its own counter-pathogens that can be spread through the general population. For various reasons, this route is a method of last resort.

Healing Semblances also tend to be highly effective on pathogens, depending on how they operate.

Nano-Machine Initiatives Since the advent of nano-machine technology, it has become possible to create nano-machines that specifically target and eliminate pathogens in the bodies of the infected. The chief difficulty in this approach is to ensure that the nano-machines do not become overzealous. 

The standard delay between discovery of a pathogen and the development of nano-machine serums capable of targeting and eliminating it is usually somewhere between four to sixteen weeks. If safety protocols are relaxed, this can generally be cut down to as little as one week.

Vaccine Initiatives Due to advances in technology, it is now possible to develop vaccines far more rapidly than in the past. Typically, the development of a vaccine takes six to twelve months although this can be reduced to as little as a month depending on how similar the pathogen is to an already-known pathogen. 

The single greatest factor to increasing the speed of development is the ability to not only map and model the genetic sequences of pathogens in their entirety but also accurately model their behaviour. This is only possible thanks to the absolutely colossal increase in computing power that has occurred over the past decade. In particular, the creation of Aura-based circuitry allows for the development of computer processors that do not rely on binary states (i.e., 0 and 1) but on as many as ten different states (0 through to 9). Aura-based computing has the ability to easily brute force its way through problems that normal computing would deem unsolvable in a reasonable span of time.

CTE - Contain, Treat, Eliminate This is the standard approach taken to pathogens in Remnant. Once an outbreak is discovered, the first step is to immediately contain it as much as possible. If necessary, this means quarantining entire settlements. Once containment has been achieved, the focus shifts to treatment of the infected within the containment zone. This can be accomplished either through medical personnel or medically-oriented drones and robots, depending on the dangers presented by the pathogen.

While containment and treatment are ongoing, it is essential that a means to eliminate the pathogen is discovered. This will usually be accomplished through some combination of the three initiatives outlined above. 

What is less commonly acknowledged is that on some occasions extirpation of the threat is required. Perhaps the most infamous case of this involved a zombie plague created via Semblance that was eliminated by the deployment of the satellite-based weapon known as Solaris. The subsequent attack reduced a mountain to a molten crater, eliminating the plague - and all of the infected. However, such extreme methods are considered a last resort.

Although each nation has its own health services, an international organisation known as the Remnant Epidemiological Council typically co-ordinates world efforts when necessary. The council was founded by Professor Oerba Dia Vanille and is currently chaired by Professor Fraise Dia-Farron. 

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Yeah, they’re better than us at dealing with this kind of stuff. 

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

You can find my original fiction on Amazon here.

[orgy-of-nerdiness]

Hi, I realize this is probably a very silly question to someone who knows a lot about this kind of thing, but I figured you would be the best person to ask. Is it possible for viruses and bacteria to become immune to alcohol in the same way that some bacteria are becoming immune to some antibiotics? In that case, wouldn’t it be bad to use something with only 50% alcohol or not let it sit long enough bc then that’s like not completing a course of antibiotics kind of?

Not a silly question at all!

The answer is not a straightforward "no absolutely not," but it's not as much of a problem as with antibiotics. When pathogens (viruses, bacteria, fungal infections, parasites) come into contact with alcohol the way that it kills them is a kind of more generalized brute force way rather than the very specific way that antibiotics or antiviral drugs target them. Think of antibiotic drugs as like trying to get into a house. We use one drug that's like a key to get in through the door. They change the lock. We figure out how to open a latch on the window. They secure that. We get in through the chimney. They block off the chimney. Alcohol is like taking a battering ram to the door. There are a few "houses" out there that can withstand it, but it's not easy to build resistance to this approach.

That being said, yes it's possible. When I looked into it I found articles about the rise of certain bacteria that are more resistant to alcohol. The problem is twofold, first it favors bacteria that were already more resistant to alcohol, so when the other bacteria die off the bacteria that are resistant to alcohol can kind of "take over," or second, the bacteria do actually evolve to be more tolerant of alcohol. Both seem to be the case to some degree.

However, it's not nearly as much of a problem as med resistance. The way alcohol kills is far more general and most pathogens just aren't going to evolve resistance to it, period.

Bonus, here's a really neat video that demonstrates E. coli developing antibiotic resistance. It's really cool and I think it's something everyone should watch:

https://youtu.be/plVk4NVIUh8

[creepy-crowleys]

We see the Filth Evolved. Those exposed to the Zero Point Pathogen in Tokyo received a highly concentrated dose. They have had longer to incubate. The Filth devises bodily weapons. Claws and blades and clubs. They see more of the Dreaming Ones' dreams.

We see the Filthy Hulk. Sometimes, the infected takes in more Filth than their meat frame can contain. Muscles swell and tear and swell again. Bones strain. A titan monster is achieved. But the black hole that devours twice as ferociously collapses twice as fast. The life of these brutes is short. A surge of power that comes apart. They are unlikely to evolve to any further phases. The dream digests them.

[stone-97]

Torn Soul - Vanessa Bio

While Vanessa does indeed still have her body and has freed herself from digital hell, having half a soul has left her with a weak bond to her body and the land of the living. Wisp merging with her severed soul has allowed it to heal slowly, giving her more power to wield against the enthralled dwelling on the ashen planes. Saryn’s control over decay matches the one foot in the grave that Vanessa’s body displays as her body, previously lacked a soul and was pumped with remnant to keep her alive, which led to her body adapting as best it could, reducing her tan skin pale with gray veins visible through her skin.

Wisp floats through the floors, weaving past enemies, invisible to them, this matches with Vanessa using stealth over brute force to achieve her goals, even sneaking into offices to find information or access cards. However, she can buff through reservoirs and even shoot to one from her current position after firing off arcs of voltage to shock the enemy mobs. In cases of emergency, summoning a fake comes in handy to drive away attention to herself. When desperate measures must be taken, Ness opens a path to the sun within her hands to torch her foes to ashes.

Saryn spreads various ailments through spores matching with how the remnant altered Vanessa’s body into a deadly virus carrier. Spreading death by poison or decay at her choosing opens pathways for Vanessa in combating corrupted foes with silent attacks, no one foresees a tiny pathogen to be their demise. Spores infused with poison to befall guards or corrosion to ravage the endos of animatronic legions cuts down the number of foes to avoid. If a more attention-seeking distraction is needed, molting skin cells into a solid copy of yourself will keep attention off till your escape is made. A more direct route of defeating foes is a silent strike imbued with poison helps in the event an air filter is running through the facility. A last-ditch attempt of capture is imminent, Ness will explode with a miasma of lethal degree, bathing the area in the most potent of viral bacteria produced to eliminate her foes. In the case of animatronic mobs, the miasma will cover the spread of corrosive spores onto their vulnerable endos.

Detaching her soul from her body allows Vanessa to enter the Ashen Planes, a wasteland of soot-like ash that shifts based on the emotional state of the people in a location and manifests monsters associated with their trauma if the trauma is strong. So far, she has encountered the first of Project BIO, The Centaur, a 12-foot monstrosity of bio-organic metal and Agony. She will need her wits and use of what Wisp snagged for her if she hopes to beat it.