#quarter for size comparison as usual!

[robinsceramics]

Emo owl </3

[image ids: six pictures of a small ceramic owl that seems to be wearing black eyeliner. It is pale gold or cream in color, with tiny spots of dark brown in the glaze. The owl has no wings or features except two tiny feet and its eyes; its head is marked only by an indentation in the smooth oval of the owl's body. The eyeliner on the left side of its face is heavily smudged and seems to drip down the owl's cheek.]

[getvalentined]

I've never done a full breakdown of everything that happened to my version of Vincent while he was under the knife (although there is a partial breakdown from like 12 years ago on Ask Vincent Valentine), but @spinejackel tagged my recent Vincent doodle gushing about autopsy scar (Vincent Has a Y-Incision headcanon supremacy!) so I figured it was probably a good time. This is also probably the best method, since I can apply the right tags and trigger warnings to hopefully keep it from hitting the people who would be disturbed.

For anyone who doesn't know, figuring out the fucked up physiology of victims of science is like my entire jam. I think this is what happens when you let a chronically ill child watch Akira and the original Bubblegum Crisis OVA and most of the works of Masamune Shirow. All that before FF7 even existed. This means that the explanation under the cut may seem excessive, and this post is very long. I've been building it over over a quarter century, I don't think there's any avoiding it at this point.

Warnings for body horror, nonconsensual body modification, medical horror and torture. Basically, if there's anything you can think of related to becoming a victim of science under the rule of an unethical sci-fantasy oligarchy, it's probably in here to some degree. It's explained plainly and simply, in clinical but not visceral detail.

My headcanons for what Hojo did to Vincent are pretty specific, albeit not precisely comprehensive; 27 years later I still don't really have a particularly solid concept for how he turned Vincent into a shapeshifter, although at least we know it's not something entirely specific to Vincent—Hojo repeated that facet of the experiment in Azul, but not in any other SOLDIER operative even in DeepGround, implying that it's only possible if very specific physiological conditions are met. The minimal concept I do have involves a twisted application of the concept of incarnate summoning as it appears in FFXIII-2, but it's very vague and also not the topic of this post. Maybe later.

Regarding the Y-incision/autopsy scar, my headcanon is that once Hojo tweaked Vincent into being able to regenerate from any injury—an enhancement that is confirmed to be entirely Hojo's work in Dirge—the professor of course felt it necessary to run various tests quantify the usefulness of his handiwork. He did this first by inflicting various surface injuries, then by causing more extreme bodily trauma, which eventually culminated in Hojo removing the majority of Vincent's internal organs in order to measure how long it took them to grow back and, assuming they did grow back, how the new ones compared to Vincent's original parts.

To be able to observe this as closely as possible, Hojo kept Vincent's torso open for the entire process—which he repeated twice more in order to check the weight, size and structure of the newly-grown organs in comparison to the originals. This study proved that most of them did grow back, but the majority of them stopped developing much earlier than was appropriate for Vincent's age and size. The difference was consistent, Hojo just never figured out why most of them grew back smaller and less-developed.

The reason this happened is based the fact that most of the organs in the human trunk are used in digestion and other related processes, and Vincent's regeneration means he doesn't need to eat or drink anymore. His body only expended as much energy as was completely necessary to develop those organs to the point of being functional rather than normal, because they're not really necessary. Vincent is glad he still has them, though, because he does still occasionally eat (usually in social situations) and also he'd be really sad if he couldn't even have coffee.

Vincent's brain activity remained normal during the entire process, although that may have something to do with Hojo driving a bunch of fluid lines into his head and flooding the inside of his skull with mako to keep him awake the whole time even while deprived of oxygen. (Rebirth spoilers, but seeing the bit in the Nibelheim Protorelic questline where Hojo does something super similar to this, after this has been my headcanon for decades, was a trip.)

Two organs didn't grow back at all: Vincent's appendix and one kidney. This was also the result of efficient energy expenditure, as the human appendix isn't necessary for survival, and only one kidney is really required. (Each time Hojo removed the new kidney, the one that grew back would be on the opposite side, which bothered Hojo to no end.)

His lungs grew back a little larger, possibly because his skeletal structure never quite recovered after his first transformation into Galian—his arms and legs are noticeably too long for his body, although not to the point of looking impossible, and likewise his ribcage settled to breadth that would allow for larger lungs. He doesn't really need these anymore either, related to his brain being exposed to so much mako during the process that it can now operate without oxygen if necessary, but switching himself over from aerobic to anaerobic respiration is really unpleasant and Vincent tries to avoid it when he can.

His heart was pretty normal by the time Hojo was done with him, although his heartrate had dropped to like 20bpm even when elevated. Again, if respiration isn't necessary, there's not much reason for the system to be active. (By the time Lucrecia was done this had dropped to around 5bpm on average, although it's completely arrhythmic and jumps all over the place when he's not either particularly active or on the verge of a transformation.)

This was the experiment that left Vincent susceptible to degradation, which Hojo didn't realize until after finally closing him back up. Upon realizing that Vincent's body wasn't responding properly to a different test (a repetition of an earlier experiment related to the regeneration of external tissues and features), Hojo just kinda threw him in a tube to be disposed of at a later date, kinda like that scene in Arrested Development where there's that dead dove in a bag in the fridge. The incision healed at some point during the period that Lucrecia was working on him, but early enough in her work that the tissue couldn't flawlessly regenerate (like it does in the present), leaving him with one more gnarly scar on top of all the rest.

Vincent is self-conscious about all the physiological changes brought on by what was done to him, often to the point of loathing. His left arm is the worst—it rotted off while he was in the throes of degradation and grew back as something that he hesitates to call his arm—but Vincent hates that Y-incision scar almost as much. Some days they tie.

(It has come up in appropriately horrified conversation with Shalua that, considering how his regeneration works, Vincent could probably get rid of all the scars on his chest if he somehow peeled the skin off his torso in a single swath. He will not be doing that. Besides, it might grow back the wrong color/texture/etc, like his left arm. Not worth the risk, much less the suffering.)

Also I gotta finish off this entry with the extremely stupid headcanon reveal that Vincent's (honestly fairly impressive) dick was cut off during the first round of bodily trauma regeneration tests—and Hojo has never felt the sort of rage he experienced upon discovering that it grew back bigger than before. This occurred early enough in the experiments that Vincent was not awake for it, and thus has no idea how the fuck this happened, and does not want to talk about it ever thank you very much. I've never mentioned it in public anywhere because it is extremely stupid, but I hope someone out there finds it as funny a concept as I do.

[mancer-in-the-abbey]

Well I DID say I had more ideas about ghoul combat sooo ERA 3 GHOUL (+Sunshine) COMBAT STATS LETS GO

Link to the previous post!

Alpha: He was Terzo’s personal bodyguard back in the day and for good reason. Alpha is the most physically imposing of all the ghouls, not quite as big as Omega but much more threatening. He and Omega also have a shared advantage in that they are OLD AS SHIT compared to your usual ghoul and have had over 3 centuries to cumulate knowledge and experience. As such, Alpha is highly trained in most forms of combat, from close quarters to ranged affairs, and his control over fire is nigh unparalleled. Dude is the epitome of You Fuck Around, You Find Out, he has killed before and will kill again should the need arise.

Omega: As previously stated, Omega is old as fuck for a Ghoul and has had literal centuries to refine his craft. It would genuinely be hard to point to a Quintessence user as skilled as him given just how long he’s had to grow and expand his power. There is also, of course, his physical brute strength which is also extremely formidable. He really is just a brick wall of a ghoul, you could probably run straight into him full-tilt and he wouldn’t budge an inch. Either way, by hand or by magic, you are straight up fucked if you try to fight this man because unlike Aether, who avoids killing as best he can, Omega has no such qualms. You will likely be dead before you can land a hit.

Mist: Oh she is vicious. Homegirl came to the surface with a chip on her shoulder the size of the Mariana Trench, borderline feral. She’s mellowed out a bit since then but still very much has a “try it I dare you” mentality. Unlike Rain, Mist doesn’t rely overly on her elemental powers, instead opting to use her superior grace and agility to stay one step ahead of her opponent. She has claws she takes immaculate care of and by Beliah she will USE THEM! One thing Mist and Rain DO have in common, however, is their willingness to bite. Must be a water ghoul thing…

Ivy: Earth bending? Earth bending. Quite skilled at it, too! Ivy is a smaller ghoul in comparison to some of the other past drummers, so he’s used to being underestimated by those around him. Surprisingly, this has worked to their favor more than once! There have been times where someone’s tried to mess with him, be it random civilian or other fellow ghoul, only for them to be absolutely clobbered by pieces of the walls and floors. He’s also skilled enough to put those chunks back when he’s done! How handy!

Ifrit: First off. Why would you want to fight Ifrit? What did he do to you? Second off, he’s gonna kick your ass SO badly. He’s similar to how I described Phantom in that he’s either all in on his elemental powers or all in on beating you to a pulp the old-fashioned way. When using his fire power, he tends to keep at a distance and blast his enemies away which works pretty well considering no one likes 3rd degree burns to the entire body and face. For an all-out brawl, however, Ifrit is actually trained in MMA and boxing! What can I say? He likes keeping himself fit and practicing how to knock heads is a great way to do it.

Sunshine: An unholy mix between Cirrus Dewdrop in terms of fighting style, with Cirrus’s agility and ability to keep people off balance and Dew’s sheer speed, ferocity, and underhandedness. Her ability to combine air and fire into nasty combo-attacks plus lightning fast reflexes makes her a NIGHTMARE to fight one-on-one. Her one weakness, however, is that she struggles in situations that require on-the-fly improvising. If you manage to spook her, there is a chance she will freeze mid-fight. She’s getting better, though!

Bonus!

Water!Dew: The Dew we know today is already pretty scary but you should have seen him back in the day. Although he was less hotheaded and less prone to picking fights, dude’s control over water was surgically precise. Have you ever heard of those industrial water saws used to cut limestone and other rocks? Imagine that but on your flesh and bones. Unpleasant.

[messier51]

Regarding your post about solar eclipses on other planets - I know other planets get solar eclipses, too, but do any other planets besides earth get total solar eclipses?

Yep! I mean, that's why I worded that post specifically that way, and included links to the wikipedia articles about solar eclipses on the gas giant planets in our solar system.

So, a total solar eclipse happens on earth because the angular size of the moon as seen from the surface of the earth is (usually) larger than the angular size of the sun, right? (We see an annular eclipse when the moon's angular size is a little smaller than the sun's, depending on the relative distances of each since orbits are elliptical and those aren't constant.)

Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune are all quite a bit farther from the sun, so the angular size of the sun is much smaller, and have fairly large moons. All of Jupiter's galilean moons are large enough and close enough to the planet that they're large enough to fully occult (cover) the sun and therefore produce total eclipses.

Similarly on Saturn:

Seven of Saturn's satellites – Janus, Mimas, Enceladus, Tethys, Rhea, Dione and Titan – are large enough and near enough to eclipse or occult the Sun, or in other words to cast an umbra on Saturn. At this distance, the sun covers only about 3 arcminutes in the sky of Saturn. In comparison, the seven major moons of Saturn have angular diameters of 5–10' (Mimas), 5–9' (Enceladus), 10–15' (Tethys), 10–12' (Dione), 8–11' (Rhea), 14–15' (Titan), and 1–2' (Iapetus). Iapetus is Saturn's third largest moon, but is too far away to completely eclipse the Sun. Janus, a very close moon to Saturn, has an angular diameter of about 7', meaning that it can fully cover the Sun.

and Uranus:

Twelve satellites of Uranus—Cressida, Desdemona, Juliet, Portia, Rosalind, Belinda, Puck, Miranda, Ariel, Umbriel, Titania and Oberon—are large enough and near enough to eclipse the Sun.

and Neptune:

All of Neptune's inner moons and Triton can eclipse the Sun as seen from Neptune. All other satellites of Neptune are too small and/or too distant to produce an umbra. From this distance, the Sun's angular diameter is reduced to one and a quarter arcminutes across. Here are the angular diameters of the moons that are large enough to fully eclipse the Sun: Naiad, 7–13'; Thalassa, 8–14'; Despina, 14–22'; Galatea, 13–18'; Larissa, 10–14'; Proteus, 13–16'; Triton, 26–28'.

and also Pluto, really:

Charon has an angular diameter of 4 degrees of arc as seen from the surface of Pluto; the Sun appears much smaller, only 39 to 65 arcseconds. By comparison, the Moon as viewed from Earth has an angular diameter of only 31 minutes of arc, or just over half a degree of arc. Therefore, Charon would appear to have eight times the diameter, or 25 times the area of the Moon; this is due to Charon's proximity to Pluto rather than size, as despite having just over one-third of a Lunar radius, Earth's Moon is 20 times more distant from Earth's surface as Charon is from Pluto's. This proximity further ensures that a large proportion of Pluto's surface can experience an eclipse. Because Pluto always presents the same face towards Charon due to tidal locking, only the Charon-facing hemisphere experiences solar eclipses by Charon.

So all of these planets (modulo the lack of surfaces/living beings, but like, that's also pretty special to Earth completely separately from eclipses) experience the nighttime-like darkness caused by the umbra (shadow) of the eclipse (occultation).

Now, as a few people have pointed out in the notes, the ring of fire deal IS pretty special, which happens because the angular size of the moon and sun are often SO similar. (Maybe Iapetus is similar enough with the solar angular size sometimes depending where Saturn is in its orbit, but at a few arcminutes instead of half a degree you can imagine the effect being somewhat less amazing. Then again, I bet solar occultations by Saturn's rings are pretty amazing, so I'm not going to hold that against the planet.)

In no way do I think this makes total solar eclipses less awesome, or think that the excitement is misplaced. It's a pretty amazing special event! It's also one that won't even exist for the earth forever, since the moon moves a few centimeters away from us each year. But as an astronomer I think it's cool that there are eclipses (and occultations and transits of the sun by moons with smaller angular sizes!) on other planets too! Though, the post I made was mostly a kneejerk eyeroll complaint about a silly factual error that might just be because the OP of the post I was annoyed by was thinking about some other facet of our solar eclipses as being unique than how it was worded. Since we can't go to any other planet to watch eclipses (that would add a whole extra layer to astrotourism), our eclipses on earth are pretty special. If you ever have the opportunity to see one, I wholly recommend going! It's really amazing.

In conclusion: here's an Io solar eclipse on Jupiter taken by the Hubble Space telescope:

[Image in black and white shows Jupiter's volcanic moon Io passing above the turbulent clouds of the giant planet, on July 24, 1996. There's a large black spot on Jupiter which is Io's shadow. The smallest details visible on Io and Jupiter are about 100 miles across (about 160 kilometres). Bright patches visible on Io are regions of sulfur dioxide frost. Io is roughly the size of Earth's moon, but 2000 times farther away.]

And here's the April 8th eclipse of the sun by the moon on Earth as seen by the GOES satellite:

[A gif of the earth showing the GOES EAST view of North and South America on April 8th over the course of the total solar eclipse. A shadow of the moon passes from the left to the upper right side of the view of the earth.]

[imaginarianisms]

i just wanted to say that this kinda leadership was also extremely common in precolonization americas, like, most of the time, chiefs were elected & chosen by the people, it usually wasn't hereditary tho that depends on nation to nation, bc nations like the haida in the pacific northwest coast, for example, had hereditary chiefs, while the nahua, maya, muisca & inca had empires while in one of my nations, the huron-wendat, the chieftain was a man but he was only voted for among women & they had the ability to chase him off or remove him if he wasn't doing his duties or he was a weak leader & only the clanmothers could decide when to go to war & who to go to war with. it all greatly varied from nation to nation bc none of us are a monolith.

slavery was also practiced among several - though not all - nations precolonization, notably the haida & tlingit peoples & many peoples of the pacific northwest coast, the maya & aztec (who're known as nahua) took captives to use as sacrificial victims in their temples, the iroquoian peoples waged mourning wars on their neighbors to avenge & replace their dead, the comanche of texas, the creek of georgia & fishing societies like the yurok who lived from alaska to california, the pawnee & klamath. haida & tlingit tho were notorious for it, traditionally known as fierce warriors & slavetraders from the southeastern alaskan coast who raided as far as california. native groups along the pacific northwest coast finalized elite marriages by exchanging enslaved people & so on, & slavery was hereditary after they were taken as prisoners of war & among some pacific northwest tribes a quarter of the population were slaves & some were killed during potlatches, which were basically traditional giftgiving feasts for the pnw nations, while in other nations captives were eventually adopted into the tribe. i just wanna make that clear bc i don't like whitewashing history as an indigenous person myself & i personally interpret the first men as indigenous peoples of the americas & to a lesser extent other indigenous peoples that i'm drawing comparisons between the two here as you can see but the north strictly is against slavery.

so i have no idea if there was an official law or anything like that & i certainly can't speak for every single nation in the americas ever, i Do know from what elders taught me & what i've read is that welcoming guests & treating them with respect was super important back in the old days & you Do Not treat your guests disrespectfully Ever. something like the red wedding would not be taken well at all whatsoever rippppppp.

giants & peoples similar to the children of the forest & the woods walkers as well as the others are already in many of our traditional stories, notably with stories of actual giants, little people such as the pukwudgies / mikumwess who're basically our fair folk / fae & the w/ndig/ag & their variants, a name that i'm forbidden to speak or type out due to protocol, which is why i'll be referring to them simply as ice cannibals.

giants in indigenous folklore are usually described as being ranging between twice as tall as humans to 20-30/40-60 feet tall, large enough to throw humans into a sack or burden basket the way a human hunter would do with rabbits & in a few cases giants are described as being even more immense, being the size of the tallest pine trees (which works out to 150-200 feet) and catching whales the way humans catch fish, with some traditions their bodies are covered in rock-hard scales that repel all normal weapons & protects them from fire & cold. which is uh. fucking terrifying lmao.

pukwudgies & mikumwess & other variants (same people, different names) among other magical little people of the forest were all over turtle island, they're like sprites, dwarves, gnomes or fairies, said to be about as tall as a man's waist, knee-high, if not even smaller than that, only as tall as about a three year old child, having narrow faces, but are as swift as lightning, strong & sound like birds when talking to each other, dressing light going barefoot & smoking pipes, living in the woods, writing on stone, eating meat, berries & fish, & they like to sing, dance & play, but they're strong & can take you down no matter how big you are. they're generally benevolent forest spirits but could be capricious & dangerous whenever disrespected. they have formidable magical powers but are benign creatures who do not generally harm humans, though sometimes they play mischievous lighthearted & annoying but harmless & usually not dangerous or destructive tricks on people like rearranging things, tying knots in hair & clothes or putting clothes on backwards & singing & then hiding when an inquisitive person searched for the music but may perform bad tricks around the house & barn, capsize canoes, tear fishing nets, steal shiny things, steal children, commit deadly acts of sabotage, destroy the property of disrespectful people or curse them. they're known to live in mountain caves, rocky places in the woods, sandy hills or by a rocky riverbank. when clay or silt deposits along a riverbank resemble people or animals, that's said to be sculptures made by them & bring good luck to those who find it, rocks by the side of a river with geometric markings on them are considered to mark the home of a family & best left undisturbed. they're said to own a pot which can transform a few kernels of maize into a huge quantity & when sailing, traveled in a group of 5-7 per canoe. seeing one supposedly foretells a death by drowning. they're small, sometimes said to be 2 to 3 feet tall, but do big work. in one of my nations, abenaki folklore, they're said to come from the bark of an ash tree. they live & dress like the old-time indigenous peoples of the land they're on & speak the indigenous language of that land, having small arms & legs & sometimes big bodies like bullfrogs. some are said to foretell the future. they are friendly to people & sometimes help with household chores if gifts and/or candy & sugar are left for them or kindness is shown to their children, & giving a man furs or warning them of coming evil or of a coming attack, or harm & when seen by an adult human, beg them not to say anything of their existence & would reward those who kept their word by coming to the aid of a person or people or their families in need & help them out in times of need, should they ever ask for it. it was often said that they love children & would take them away from bad or abusive parents or if the child was without parents and abandoned or left in the woods to fend for themselves to raise the child as their own. the name "pukwudgie" literally means "person of the wilderness" & in some traditions have a sweet smell & are often associated with flowers. sometimes they're known to turn invisible & appear & disappear at will, increase & decrease body size at will, shapeshift into many different animals like cougars or other dangerous animals, confuse people, make them forget things, lure people to their deaths, bring harm to people by staring directly at them, use magic, launch poison arrows & create fire. some believe that pukwudgies in particular were once friendly to humans, but then turned against them & are best left alone, & according to lore, a person who annoyed a pukwudgie, would be subject to nasty tricks by it, or subject to being followed by the pukwudgie, who would cause trouble for them; they were known to kidnap people, push them off cliffs, attack their victims with short knives & spears, & to use sand to blind their victims. they're uh. smth else.

ice cannibals, on the other hand, are usually those who either was possessed by evil spirits & corrupted by dark magic or committed a terrible sin or crime (especially selfishness, gluttony, cannibalism or withholding food from a starving person without feeling remorse, as it was considered more honorable to either starve or commit suicide rather than turning to famine cannibalism) & ended up turning into one as punishment, causing its heart to turn into ice & cursed to eat human flesh, causing them to only ever feel hunger as that's all they're able to feel & their hearts turn to ice. they grow bigger the hungrier & angrier they get, often towering over the tallest trees, possessing sharp fangs that stand out due to having chewed their own lips off & become excruciatingly emaciated forcing them to live in the snow & rarely you could find two of these creatures fighting each other, which if this happened, one should put something over their ears to avoid hearing the roars since their cries were dangerous & their scream would kill anyone who hears it. according to one of my nations, the a.benaki, legend has it they inhabited the forests & woodlands of the area in ancient times eating the souls of others for sustenance & strength because they had no souls. in one of my other nations, in m.i'kmaw legend, it's usually required that you kill them more than once & even after it's dead, people will avoid the spot where it died. they're described as huge, gigantic, tall, monstrous & made up of or coated in ice, & in some its said that looking directly at an ice cannibal will leave a person paralyzed against it but the human it once was is still frozen inside the monster where its heart should be, and must be killed to defeat the ice cannibal, (in a few legends, a human can be successfully rescued from its frozen heart either by tricking them into eating salt, chopping up their bodies into multiple pieces, or forcing them to eat so much it.. yknow.. yeah, or in one legend, a girl tricked one into believing it was her grandfather & allowed it to do things for her & her brothers, until it got into a sweatlodge & it melted & it coughed up the last bit of its icy heart & it was then chopped to bits with a hatchet & an old man came from it so the girl's kindness quite literally melted its heart, while in other stories, when a woman rejected a man's advances, this caused the man to seek revenge & turned her into one out of vengeance & scorned pride which had her force her family to fire seven arrows into her heart to end the curse) but that's very rare, so usually, once a person has been possessed by its spirit, the only escape is death & the monster can only be permanently killed if its heart made of ice is completely melted. they were malevolent, cannibalistic supernatural beings of great spiritual power, strongly associated with the winter, the north & coldness as well as the omnipresent danger of famine & starvation (& recently, a metaphor for gluttonous, aggressive or murderous individuals who threaten communal wellbeing & as well as colonization & genocide).

[brick-a-doodle-do]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! ITS HALLOWEEN! THAT MEANS ITS TIME FOR A HAUNTED AU BECAUSE WHY NOT? :D I've been working on this for literal MONTHS because procrastination and writers block is a biiitch

The Act of Making Noise (i)

Words: 2427

TW: Swearing, Slight panic

—–—–—

“Techno, why are they so tall?” Tommy asked, leaning against the wall beside the hole the two of them used as a doorway. Near him, still inside the tunnels they’d made, was his brother, grunting and mumbling things  to himself as he pushed a glass bottle through the last little bit of the corridor. 

Techno huffed, in amusement. “They’re humans, Tommy. They’re tall. What did you expect?”

Tommy shrugged. While he’d never encountered a human nearing anywhere his size, he still had enough experience with them to understand that, typically, they were much shorter than the two that chatted incoherently in the living quarters the home had to offer. The blond folded his arms. 

“Of course they’re humans, I’m not fucking stupid. They’re taller than they should be.” Tommy pondered on what to say for just a moment, eyes scanning all over the home for a useful comparison. “You see that window?” He pointed to it, despite knowing full-well that his brother’s attention was on everything but him. “Well, usually, they don’t go very far above that little…bar in the middle of it. They’re nearly to the top of the window, though. Something is wrong with them.”

Techno let out a sharp exhale as he let go of the breath he’d held while pushing the glass onto the counter. The pinket looked at him, a faux look of interest all over his face. “You.. you found an alien, Tommy.” 

Tommy folded his arms, “I'm just saying,”

His brother huffed again, turning his attention back to the bottle. “Are you helping me with this?” He motioned to the glass that easily tripled his size. Tommy stared it up and down, eyes flicking back-and-forth from the humans to the bottle.

 “Is that really a good idea?” Tommy questioned after a small moment. 

Techno’s face fell, eyes glaring into his own. He snickered, trying to stay quiet. To be fair, he still was on the fence about it. While it seemed like a good idea and was often their go-to in situations like this, there was something off about the humans. Not the height or their appearance, but something Tommy couldn’t quite place. They looked so calm in a place that humans typically found unsettling. Between the quiet, brief fits of laughter and the subtle smiles on their face, nothing there looked like it usually did. And he found that a bit discomforting, even if his brother doesn’t. 

He watched through the corner of his eye as Techno shrugged to himself and returned to the bottle, leaving Tommy’s unsaid response in the dust as he prepared to continue on the job independently. He shifted his weight to his feet and joined the pinket, allowing Techno to make room for him before he placed his hands on the glass and applied little pressure while the two of them took small steps forward. “Won’t they see this?” Tommy spoke up, quieter now. 

“Humans aren’t that observant.” 

“If I saw a glass bottle fucking wiggling around on the counter, I would notice it,” he tried to defend himself.

“Tommy, that's why you’re a borrower, not a human.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, once again fucking defeated. He murmured to himself, reassuring his pissed off mind that he was right and they’d be caught any minute. Don’t get him wrong, he did agree with Techno that humans were more than dumb when it came to using their senses, but again, that feeling in his chest told him that the humans the two of them are currently dealing with aren’t like the typical cocky teenagers they get. But, he knew there  wasn’t room for argument when it came to his brother, so he kept his mouth shut.

Eventually, after a few moments of nearly stumbling over his own feet, they reached the edge.

This was the hardest part. 

Not the final push, that was easy, but the run back to the walls. The bottle didn’t take a while to fall, if anything by the time they began to make their journey back to safety, the glass would’ve already shattered and caught the humans’ attention. Usually they were pretty good at hiding.  But those were the days where the trespassers were spread out around the house, and didn’t have the same relaxed bodies like the current ones did. He assumed it would be easy for Techno, seeing as he’s older than him and has much better stamina than him, but Tommy doesn’t know if he’ll make it without tripping. 

Soon, before Tommy could form a proper plan and discuss his worries with Techno, his hands were no longer touching the cold material. Tommy wasted no time in leaving. Panic flooded throughout him as he took the lead easily, focussing far too hard on keeping his footing steady as he ran along the old counter. He approached the hole in the wall too slowly for his liking, still only a little bit over half-way when the bottle shattered on the ground. Shit. He added another tone he didn’t know he had to his speed, and found himself nearly sliding into the hole. His feet slid on the dusty surface, but he still huffed in relief of now being hidden away in the shadows. He panted, now slowing his movements down while he stepped aside, away from the opening. He watched as Techno came in after him, however at a much more calm speed. “You’re faster than me, that’s an improvement.”

“You didn’t give me a fucking warning,” Tommy complained, now holding a hand to his chest as it heaved, harsh inhales and exhales traveling through his lungs.

“Are you still scared of humans, loser?”

“No,” Tommy scoffed.

Techno looked like he wanted to say something, but he shut up when he noticed the new arrival of the humans.

The tall duo still held that awful smile, just adding to his theory. Tommy watched the two of them crouch and go almost out of view. The only thing visible was the very top of their heads, where similarly-colored hair lay atop. He swallowed, attempting to try and listen in on the conversation. But, it was pretty damn hard to do that when his heart was pounding in his ears. 

Tommy frowned, standing. No use in watching them if he couldn’t hear them, it would just pile frustration onto him. So, he walked past Techno and set off down the dark tunnel only slightly luminated at the end, where their makeshift home was.

The place itself was much more modern and clean than the rest of the house, but it still was small. It was a given, since they decided to dedicate most of their storage to different types of empty bottles and other fragile objects. Tommy noticed as he entered the main body of their home that they were running low on their stock of said bottles. A few of them rested in the corner, but not enough to last for more than two parties, if that.

The blond huffed as he sat on his bed, the almost-stiff “mattress” under him failing to act like a real one, instead making the dramatic fall almost uncomfortable. He has to admit that, even if he enjoys the so-called “easy life of a borrower”, he still hates the fact that their living conditions are so shitty. It would be much easier to live a life they had now, but in a home occupied with a human. Then maybe his life wouldn’t be so miserable when he overthinks it. But, then again, if they lived with a human, then he wouldn’t be able to have that freedom the two of them crave. But, then again–

“They left,” Techno announced, somewhat of a smile on his face. Tommy returned the expression, though his was more genuine and far more visible. The blond shifted to the side so his brother could take a seat next to him.

“Are you sure? They didn’t look scared.”

“I watched them walk out the door. Unless they climb back in through the window upstairs, they’re gone, Tommy.”

“They were weird, Techno. I thought you were supposed to be ‘observant’ or some shit.” 

“Weird or not, they are gone.”

—

Gone. They were everything but gone. The evening came and went, and by the time Techno was finally stirring with the sun, Tommy had already been awake for two hours to watch the humans. They arrived at an oddly early hour, with mounds of equipment that Tommy couldn’t name. Something was wrong, and he was right about that. And he thought Techno was supposed to be the more put-together and “smart” one. That’s total bullshit. 

Tommy hadn’t moved. He just sat in the shadows, right in front of the opening, studying every little thing the duo did. One thing that made Tommy disappointed and doubtful was the sheer amount of stuff they had. Under normal circumstances, humans usually only had a little backpack, if that – usually they had nothing.

But even after they’d discarded the overly-packed backpacks and multiple other things Tommy didn’t recognize, they still had equipment all over themselves. The one thing Tommy could recognize was a flashlight, something he’d seen the humans have more than once. And if he’s not mistaken, they’ve also set up many cameras around the home, which just added to the uncomfortably tight feeling in his chest. While he watches, he wonders what Techno would say. Tommy had been right this entire fucking time and Techno just had to be the “correct” one and not even stop to think for a second that sometimes Tommy can be exceptionally bright despite being the younger and the more unorganized one in their lonely duo. 

Small footsteps broke his train of thought and he looked up and to the side, where he could just barely make out the outline of Techno, who’s long hair was frizzled and made his appearance a small bit frightening. “They’re back, Tech,” Tommy said aloud, sounding a mix of unimpressed and cocky. 

“What?” Techno asked, his pace quickening as his brother rushed to the small opening in the wall. Tommy watched with a gentle smirk as Techno’s expression shifted into something of shock, where his eyes widened and his mouth went agape, like he was rethinking everything he’s ever said. 

“See, you should listen to me. And, and, they’ve got fucking cameras everywhere. Look at the bags by the window, Techno! I don’t think they’re leaving anytime soon,”

The man looked defeated. And, Tommy didn't expect him to do this, but he nodded. “..you’re right,” Techno admitted, and the blond scoffed. “Of course I’m right! I told you from the beginning that–”

“Now is not the time to argue about–”

The two of them paused when eyes landed right by them. Logically they were safe within the shadows but they still stumbled back behind the walls. “What the fuck, could they see us, Techno?” Tommy huffed, struggling to find his brother in the dark. “No,” Techno said, but he sounded unsure of himself, like he was just saying it to make himself feel better. 

Tommy tried to calm himself, knowing that even if the two humans had seen them, they wouldn't jump straight to the conclusion of a borrower, they’d start smaller. A mouse or a rat would be just as plausible. 

“Can we go?” Tommy asks. 

“I think we have to. To get a better plan.”

Tommy nodded and stood up, straining his eyes so he could make sure Techno did the same. They set off down the hall again. 

—

Actually visiting a house was fairly common, but returning a second time just a day after was a bit less frequent than they’d like to admit. Everything in a supposedly ‘haunted’ house intrigued both Wilbur and Ranboo, especially when they both agreed that something may be there, but their more advanced  equipment didn't typically make an appearance unless they were certain that something was there. And, after the events with the bottle, multiple apparitions appearing in photos they took around the house, and the uneasy feeling around the entire home that the two of them both noticed, was definitely enough to make them suspicious. Not completely convinced, not yet, but pretty damn close. 

“Here, set that there, and– yeah,” Wilbur instructed, watching as Ranboo set up one of the many cameras they had. The shorter of the two was working on a motion sensing device, one of two that they had. A lot of people they came across said that they might be a bit over-equipped, but seeing as this was just for fun, they had no problem with going all out. Besides, more is usually better. 

“Ranboo?” Wilbur asked as he leaned over to get a new device from his bag. He pulled out random shit he packed while looking for something easy to set up. “Yep?” 

“You know the bottle, from yesterday?” He pulled another camera out, however this one detected skeleton-like objects that stood in front of it. This was one that rarely displayed anything other than real humans, which was a little disappointing to them. But, then again, he couldn't really say that some of the other stuff they got didn't make up for a possibly-faulty piece of equipment. 

“I'd be concerned if I didn’t remember it. I mean, my memory is bad but not that bad. Why do you ask?”

Wilbur laughed, “I don’t know, I was just wondering if we could put something up there. Maybe another bottle, or a can, or something for this thing to move.”

Through the corner of his eye, he saw Ranboo’s head go in the direction of the kitchen, which was just across the house. Wilbur followed his gaze, staring at it. “It's worth a try, but do we have a bottle?”

Wilbur shrugged. Just as he did, movement from under him caught his attention. He looked down at the camera, hope sparking. “Ranboo, Ranboo, come here,” Wilbur gestured excitedly for his friend to join his side. He heard Ranboo set something down then shuffle his way. “What the hell? It works?”

On the screen, small green bars and white dots built up to create a perfect figure, however nothing was actually there. “I–I guess–” Wilbur exhaled, eyes wide and alert. There was a high grin on his face as he continued to study the unexistent figure. It moved just barely, the skeleton-like outline’s arm moved like it was waving. The duo were at a comical loss of words as they were both amazed and humored at the action. 

[hauntedjpegcollection]

ouroboros

wc: 2711 au: band au ch: benny, benji

Benny’s first tattoo was on his seventeenth birthday. It feels both too young and too ridiculous to brag about now—it’s shitty and nearly fading and looks embarrassingly bad in his late twenties, and probably also did when he was a teenager. But he has summery nostalgia for it that paints it better than it actually is, in his minds eye, on that stupid birthday. One of the only good birthdays he had as a youth.

A skull, on fire and screaming, on the inside of his calf. It’s small in comparison to the rest of his tattoos, especially the ones covering his knees and so most people miss it. Most people also, aren’t usually close enough to Benny to see it. Quarter sized, easily covered by a thumb and yet, so strangely significant.

The lines are faded light blue and patchy almost everywhere. The ‘fire’ had blown out enough to look more like black and white…shrubbery. The skull is so poorly designed that it could be an open mouth anything really.

But Benny had loved getting it, so he can’t hate it now. Back then, he was still Jonny, and his best friend, Isaac, was secretly his boyfriend went with him and he was getting the tattoo in a friend’s Uncle’s basement by a guy who went by the name Skidrow and probably should have worn gloves. Isaac had sat next to him on the couch and his sneaky hand had touched his lower back far too many times for them to be as in the closet as they were. Dangerous.

So was the tattoo.

His father hated tattoos. He thought they were trashy—and Benny, if he’d been braver, but he was still Jonny back then and all his bravery was secret, would have told JB that he was fucking trash. They were trash. Everyone knew it. And Benny didn’t mind looking the part, because people had already weaponized that against him anyway. White trash with daddy issues. Jesus. He might as well have a tattoo.

Or two.

Because a year later, he got his second, in an actual tattoo parlor. Isaac still with him and when they stumble out onto the boardwalk together, they have the rare chance to kiss and not hide it and it’s one of his favorite tattoos—a snake on the inside of his wrist. A mean fanged thing that heals just as shitty as the skull, because it was a bad tattoo parlor anyway.

And then he was joining the air force and Benny was getting more tattoos with a moderate disposable income now that he knew what having a disposable income felt like. No more Isaac, not for that part of his life anyway, but there’s strings of people he dates on and off and more tattoos on top of that. He collects them when he realizes that people stare at them and sometimes that stare is with interest, but most of the time, paired with everything else about Benny, that stare is a little afraid.

After years of that, years of a protective layer that ranges from shitty flaming skulls, inexpensive and thankfully infectionless to artwork that had cost real money and covers large swatches of his skin, Benny wakes up one day and realizes he wants another one. Not necessarily because he needs something mean on his body that make people cringe, or another secretive little bunny that’s just for him.

Benny doesn’t get a tattoo for any other reason than…he likes them. He likes the sunburn bee sting feeling, he likes taking care of it after (a sort of self care he wasn’t usually good at0, likes the muscle deep soreness after and he liked how tired he felt after. Wounding his body over and over with a little needle, willingly. For fun. It was the sort of insanity he really enjoyed.

It’s not like it’s a private affair, but when Benny asks Benji if he wants to come (notably in his condescending, sneering manner that hardly ever sounds actually inviting), he’s surprised when the drummer says yes.

Sometimes, Benny still finds himself thinking in an us verses them about the band. It wasn’t true anymore, and probably for Xavier at least, it had never been true. Lark was a childhood best friend, had come from some humble beginnings, sleeping on a couch in the Wolffe house as a teenager. Benny knew that the only truly silver spooned one of them was Matilda, but when he’d first started, he had felt it very easy to slot them all into the same category.

Above him. Not friends.

Benny was good at not making friends. Maybe a little too good; he’d not had a stellar first start with Benji, who had forgotten they’d nearly hooked up in an alleyway years and years prior. Benny cannot help but wonder if maybe he’d had red hair and freckles if that would have gone differently, or if there is some meaty soft part of Xavier that Benji actually…loves.

Probably. He’s very lovable. Which was why Benny liked thinking it was them and then the band. He liked feeling part of something with Xavier.

But Maran had come sprawling along, falling into his lap like a sitcom stumble—cue laughter from the audience, soft ‘awwww’s when Maran blinks his pretty, big eyes—he found himself slowly part of them. The band. Friends. Invited out more, to things other than just sneaking a cigarette with Matilda behind the tour bus where Lark wouldn’t find her. More than just sort of eating food with them on the tour bus after a tiring show. More than shoving himself between them and some rabid overzealous fan that’s definitely on acid.

Benny tries to get used to it, but it’s also sort of falling apart, isn’t it?

The band, that is. The recent upheaval of their former guitarist, who Benny had never liked anyway. Then again, Ewan had been easy to dislike, because Ewan had been one of those in the band that made him feel not part of it all. Benny was just the guy who stood in the black shirt looking menacing at scrawny, already nervous fans. Benny was the guy that carried Ewan’s guitar case when he was too busy with female fans that he should have left alone.

Shamelessly, Benny had also been the guy to accidentally unplug an amp with a clumsy foot on a wire when Ewan had an after show solo.

Either way, things are in a transition period that he is not fully part of and yet he is still invited places. Black security guard shirt not even required. Benny ends up at Xavier’s apartment, where Xavier is keeping him hidden away—where Lark and Matilda also arrive, with Mouse in between them like two knights protecting a very suddenly sad prince.

And Maran, of course. Maran who was never part of the band anyway, but was someone who fit in so instantly, who everyone liked, who everyone loved. Who, when he held Benny’s hand and swung around in Xavier’s kitchen, the bands new single playing from a burned CD loudly as the rest of that very band sat in Xavier’s living room just as noisy, made Benny feel very at home.

“Don’t have some private artist you pr-prefer?” Benny mocks as he leads the way down a winding street to an artist Tess had suggested to him downtown. Benji snorts, the sound a bit savage and nasty, his eyes narrowed meanly to the side. It’s a good look on him and Benny likes him all the more for it.

The light is fading out of the sky fast, people in swarms on the street, but Benji goes mostly unnoticed. That’s the way it is sometimes with the mildly famous. Put them in a large enough crowd and people are too distracted with themselves, with each other, to really notice. He looks lighter for it, calmer and less stressed. The bags under his eyes have lightened, all that time spent in Xavier’s shitty Boston apartment.

Time not on tour.

Benny doesn’t comment on that.

He yanks the door to the tattoo parlor open and sketches a fake bow that makes Benji roll his eyes.

—

“And this font is okay?”

The artist is beautiful—which is really funny considering the recommendation had come from Tess, who seemed very swindled by beautiful women. But her art is good, her flash book displaying prominent skills with exactly what he wanted. Font. Benji sprawls himself across another tattoo artists chair, this one accepting walk ins. Benny doesn’t hear what he describes, but the man laughs something genuine, not just a customer service pandering.

“Will it look good?” Benny asks, because he wants a professionals actual input. She has stunningly light eyes and dark brown skin, hair yanked back into a messy bun with strands that fall just about everywhere. For a tattoo artist, she’s shockingly bare of the tattoo’s, but she has more than a few piercings that maybe it balances out. She smiles at him and tucks the drawing she’d whipped up underneath the snarling tiger underneath his knee.

“Why here?” She asks, instead of answering, tilting it this way and that.

“My boyfriend loves th-that one,” Benny admits, feeling oddly bashful. His cheeks prick hotly and he thinks the lights in the parlor are a little too bright. “Guess he likes tigers.”

“Or you,” Dalia says, with a wicked sort of smile as she turns to start on the stencil.

“He’s always been a cat person,” Benji says with a rolling tilt of his head, smile pulled into a menacing curling thing. The artist working on him—Ifran—doesn’t glance away from their work, but they shift a bit, to make it easier for them to see each other across the shop.

“How do you two know each other?” He asks, more polite to Benny than he was with Benji, who’d made him laugh.

“Car accident,” Benny says.

“He hit me in the car park,” Benji continues, with that edge of ‘don’t think I won’t play this up’. He’s smiling like a knife’s edge, but his eyes are playful. Crinkled at the edges. Enjoying himself. “Broke my foot. Had to pay it out of pocket.”

“Actually, he j-jumped in front. Melodramatic bitch. Did you get broken up with that day or someth-thing?”

“You wished I was single, yeah, mate?”

“This is all fake, right?” Dalia asks as she smooths the purple stencil above the tiger’s head. He’d been thinking under, but as she puts it there, he realizes that it really is a perfect spot. Not like it’s naming the tiger, almost blending with the terrible gothic bundle of roses on his upper thigh instead. That felt even more fitting. Christ, did she know Maran somehow?

“Yeah, the car accident part,” Benji says, tucking his head back against the chair, sneering toward the ceiling with his eyes closes. “Probably not the single part.”

“So you do remember that fu-fucking alleyway? You smug little bastard, I’m telling Xavier.”

—

They fall into a little lull of silence when Dalia’s gun starts. Benji must be partially through his already, making Benny wonder what it could be. Something that had been easily free handed. Ifran’s work is framed on the walls and it’s artistic in that abstract pretty sort of way. Benny’s chest rises and falls in a rhythm not too unlike sleeping, his eyes hooded as he stares at the ceiling.

It’s a comfortable sort of pain. Benny had never thought he’d make friends with the sensation. But he was changed now, wasn’t he? Different. It pricks uncomfortably across his neck, that sort of realization, making him shift. Dalia must think he needs a distraction because she glances up, smiling.

“You sit well.”

“Thigh’s are easy,” Benny says. He pulls his shirt up to reveal all his torso tattoos. The spider under the belly button had been brutal.

“I see.”

Benji and Ifran are mid quiet conversation as well. The tattoo machines nearly drown them out, but it sounds pleasant. It sounds friendly, which shocks Benny. It makes him laugh to think of how Xavier had walked away from their very first meeting with the most confused and worried expression. I think that guy hates me, is what he’d confessed later. It was an ironic memory now.

“So,” Dalia pauses to wipe down his thigh. “Who is Maran?”

“Who is Maran?”

Benny rolls his head to the side, Benji staring directly at him.

“You’re not,” Benji points at Dalia, her tattoo gun poised. Credit to her professionalism, she doesn’t pause for much longer, resuming her tattoo. Benny smiles, winding his hands back behind his head and sitting more comfortably, languid as his eyes narrow. Maran’s best friend stares at him, his expression openly shocked until it finally twitches. Into a smile, into a laugh that nearly threatens Ifran’s work—who pulls back blinking and staring at him. Oh, it’s a good thing Xavier hadn’t come. A very, very good thing.

“Gonna make ‘im fuckin’ cry, you loon,” Benji says, settling back for his tattoo.

“I do that regularly, trust me,” Benny replies in a terribly musical voice. Dalia pinches his thigh and makes him yelp, which makes her laugh and shake her head and tell him to behave.

—

“What the fuck is that?” Benny asks, staring down at Benji’s dark brown forearm. The saran wrap smears the blood and ink and plasma, but the garish tattoo is still fully visible. Fully visible and so undeniably fucking weird. It makes Benny bark a laugh, taking Benji’s wrist, tilting his face closer to look.

Maybe once, he would have been more reserved touching Benji. By nature, he’s actually a very affectionate friend. He loved getting to shove himself into a couch with Lark, arm over his shoulder, nose in the man’s sheets of music to get a sneak peek into what would kill some fans. He loved when Xavier got drunk and sprawled over his back, hugging him from behind, sloppy affectionate dog like kisses to his mopish blond hair. He hugged Tess in rib cracking way every single time he saw her. Benny regularly stood shoulder to shoulder with Matilda, sometimes holding his hoodie up like an umbrella when it suddenly starts raining as they smoke outside the bar.

But Benji has always felt like one of those people you simply don’t touch. The bubble around him felt opaque, frosted glass and hiding him away.

He doesn’t think much of it, though, holding Benji that way to get closer to the new tattoo. Benny does glance up, to see if there’s any mute change in the drummers expression, but he seems blissful from the new tattoo pain.

“Ouroboros,” Benji says. And so it is; but it’s like a child’s drawing of the old symbol. It’s wobbly lines and a snake with a big head and tiny, knife like fangs. It has no shading, making it flatly 2D in a comical cartoon style. And for some reason it really does fit Benji, not just his mismatch of odd tattoos that are up and down every arm and probably elsewhere. But the ouroboros. Yeah, that fits, he thinks.

“You really are fu-fucking melodramatic, you know that?”

“Yeah? You wanna fuckin’ talk? A boyfriend’s name tattoo? Cursed it, you have. And when it goes ass up, Maran’s crying on my shoulder. I’ll have to kill you, probably.”

Benny stumbles on the sidewalk, both hands over his heart. He ack-ack-ack’s in fake death and nearly falls back, until Benji catches him by the bicep. Hauls him up with an absolute shock of strength that has Benny crashing back into his side.

“Fuck you!” Benny snaps, arm draping over Benji’s shoulders.

“You tried.”

“I’ll tell Xavier.”

“Yeah?” Benji tilts his head up, his smile looking less and less like a sneer. “On your funeral, mate? Know what he’d do.”

“Not kill me,” Benny says mournfully. “Worse. He’d just be sad.”

“That is worse.”

“Get that really pathetic look on his face that makes him look very Catholic.”

“Mm. Maybe you should tell him.”

“Oh,” Benny recoils. “You nasty fucking—fuck you! I mean it that time! No, fuck you, for real!”

And they cackle laugh, in throngs of people parting not necessarily because Benji’s name might be in a newspaper clipping or an article online or he might be semi-famous because he drums in a very popular band that’s going through a terribly public ordeal. They part, because both men are saran wrapped, freshly tattooed, howling their stupid heads off.

[of-canes-and-manes]

003: Cleaning Saddles Ten Minutes at a Time

Now that I’ve been riding consistently for a few weeks, it became time to properly clean and condition the tack I’ve been borrowing from my mom.

Her tack, a beautiful Circle Y all-purpose Western saddle and a Western bridle sized to fit our half-draft Tim, had been sitting in the barn for ages, gathering dust and only getting used a handful of times a year. With how little she’s been able to ride and how much she works, my mom just wasn’t able to take care of her tack at all over the years. Luckily I have a fondness for cleaning and working with leather, and I had the spare time and energy to take on this monumental task.

I set up the saddle stand on the back porch, put on the next episode of the Gunsmoke radio program, dug out the leather cleaning soap, and got to work, taking breaks to rest every ten minutes or so. My mom had warned me that if done properly, cleaning a saddle should take hours. It sure did take hours, but a good half of that time was spent resting, and I loved every minute of it.

By the time I finished scrubbing out every nook and cranny, I had spent more time actively cleaning that saddle than I usually spend driving to, attending, and driving home from doctor appointments. In the interest of preserving my energy, I opted to let the saddle dry overnight and come back the following day to condition it. That seemed to do the trick, and I then spent the week working conditioner into the leather on a daily basis until it was time to ride again.

I applied the same routine to cleaning Tim’s bridle; I deep cleaned it the first day, then conditioned it once daily over the following days. The bridle wasn’t nearly as dusty or dry as the saddle had been, but it still benefited greatly from the TLC it received. And even my hands benefited from the daily conditioning routine: I get dry and cracked skin on my hands year-round, though it’s usually better in the summer, and after a week of working on the tack my hands were softer than they’ve been in years!

Now that the saddle and bridle have been finished, I’ll only need to worry about conditioning them once or twice a month, and I won’t need to do another deep clean until they get dirty again. In the meantime, my mom requested that I clean her other saddle too, another Circle Y that she’s been borrowing from her former trainer. I agreed without any hesitation at all.

First I had to find it, and when I did, there was a clear quarter inch of dust covering the whole thing. It took me a good thirty minutes of dry brushing over the course of two days to get it dust-free enough to start cleaning.

But once I got to the cleaning, this saddle wasn’t so bad; I used an oil soap instead of the cake soap I had used before, and with a little elbow grease I was able to clean it up in a matter of hours, even with breaks. I also chose to split the cleaning into multiple days, where I cleaned the whole saddle on the first day, then scrubbed out the nooks and crannies the next. That decision saved me a lot of energy, for sure! Then I did the same daily conditioning routine as before, and though it still needs a good bit more work, it’s really cleaning up nicely.

This level of deep cleaning wouldn’t have been possible only a few months ago, and I’m awful grateful to have been able to do it. If it weren’t for those frequent breaks I took, I might not have gotten through the work at all. I’ve spent the last few months learning how to pace more effectively and to take breaks before I need them, and that seems to have made all the difference. Five to ten minutes of work at a time may not seem long enough to accomplish anything, but it sure does add up quickly!

I’ve got some photos of the first saddle and the bridle all cleaned at the bottom of this post. It didn’t occur to me to take before pictures until I got to the second saddle, so unfortunately the only before and after comparison I have is of that second saddle.

the first saddle and Tim's bridle

a before and after of the second saddle

May you have a peaceful day.

[waywardsou2]

SPEAKING OF JAPANESE WEAPONS IM GONNA HAVE A LITTLW RANT ABOUT THE ORIGAMI ONES I MADE RECENTLY!!! SO STRAP IN BOYZ!

First of all here is a crap-tacular photo of them all stuck on my wall (coz I can)

These are miniature Twin Tantō’s, generally samurai would have a katana, a wakizashi and a tantō for a complete set. They are definitely not to scale but are fun to play around with, the design was supposed to be so that you could fit them into each other to hide the “blade” and you could pull them apart to create two.

The second is a trident, not gonna say much about that because it’s not actually Japanese and not my area of expertise I made this for a friend so I’m not keeping it.

The next is a set of Ninjatō again not to scale and again again the green and purple on is for my friend. These were really fun to make and it’s was the first in the series of origami weapons I made. This is as I stated before usually part of a set of Katana, Ninjatō and Tantō. The Ninjatō is the medium sized one in comparison to the other two.

The Kunai are my favourite weapon by far they are a type of throwing knife that can also be used in close quarters combat as a small dagger like weapon. These weapons are traditionally black but also come in sliver and grey tones. I’ve made one for my friend but I can’t be bothered to take a photos right now :)

And last but not least are the Shuriken or throwing stars in layman’s terms they are a set of two but the other one is in my pocket 😁👍 These stars come I’m many shapes but I went with the classic one almost anyone could recognise.

[marvinthemillennialmouse]

I don't think people fully appreciate the scope of Doctor Emmitt Brown's genius. For the sake of this discussion, we are going to put aside any sort of "it's only a movie" or "that's not how physics works" argument and just calculate the numbers and provide comparisons.

The Delorean time machine in the first film required a total of 1.21 gigawatts of power to activate the flux capacitor--which as we all know is what makes time travel possible. He is able to produce that 1.21 gigawatts by using an on-board plutonium reactor.

Let's break down how insane that is.

First of all--that on-board plutonium reactor. Doc Brown built a plutonium reactor small enough to fit on a car and not overburden it such that the vehicle could still hit 90-100 without any real difficulty, if given enough stretch of road (we're ruling out its presence in the retrofitted version that could fly, because by that point, Doc Brown had it retrofitted with a Mr. Fusion household reactor). By current standards, fission reactors are massive, heavy, and require extraordinary safety systems to prevent meltdowns, run-away reactions, mediators, etc. in order to maintain a CONTROLLED reaction. Usually this is by way of heating up water into steam. That steam moves through a heat exchanger that heats up MORE water, which again becomes steam. That second production of steam turns a turbine to generate electricity. Why do they heat water twice? Because the steam produced through direct contact with the nuclear pile becomes radioactive. By using that radioactive steam to generate more steam in a separate, isolated system ensures that whatever steam comes into contact with the turbine is not irradiated. It's a safety measure--and possibly a means of providing a gap between when the reactor ramps up and down and energy generation.

Doc Brown's reactor is far too small to use a water-based heat exchange system to turn a turbine. He must have developed some system that turns the heat--and possibly even the actual radiation--directly into electricity, much like an RTG, a radioisotope thermoelectric generator (it should be noted that an RTG only works with the heat generated, the radiation itself is contained and in no way contributes to production of electricity, the nuclear decay is what creates the heat, that in turn is used to make electricity). NASA has used these before to power various missions into deep space. Curiosity and Perseverance both use RTG's for power rather than solar panels. New Horizons--the probe that gave us our first true images of Pluto--is powered by an RTG. Every spacecraft that has been sent on a course out of the solar system was powered by an RTG of some design or another. The Martian talks extensively about this technology. Doc Brown has built something similar, and it's small enough to fit inside a car--a sports car no less.

Let's talk about the fuel for that RTG style reactor. In the film, we see a 'plutonium rod' which appears as a vial of clear red liquid suspended in a larger container of clear, colorless liquid. No doubt that is some sort of mediator or shielding substance to help contain the radiation or keep the rod relatively cool. It isn't until the vial is accepted into the Delorean that Doc Brown says that it's safe enough to remove the radiation protection. Based on the size of that vial--assuming it's about 1 cm in diameter, and about 12 cm long, we can assume a volume of 9.42 cc (cubic centimeters). Given that volume and the known density of plutonium (19.84 grams per cubic centimeter), we're looking at about 187 grams, less than a quarter of a kilogram of plutonium. Yes, I know, plutonium is actually a grey metal, usually in solid form, not liquid, and not red. The way it appears on film is just for show. It plays better to the camera. If we give Doc Brown the benefit of the doubt and just say that the entire vial of red is pure plutonium, then he's powering his flux capacitor with approximately three quarters of a kilogram of the substance.

The RTG's that power Voyager 1 and 2 contains 4.8 kg of plutonium-238 dioxide, and generates about 157 watts of electrical power. When they were first manufactured, they produced about 2400 watts of thermal power. The RTG's that power Curiosity, Perseverance, and New Horizons have similar production capabilities. An RTG produces a substantial amount of heat that gets dumped, unable to be converted to electricity. On a vehicle like Voyager or Curiosity, that excess heat is used to keep the electronics warm. The Delorean doesn't have such concerns. Not only that, but 2400 watts--2.4 kilowatts--is a far cry from the 1.21 gigawatts the flux capacitor needs to enable time travel, six orders of magnitude less energy. What's more, the RTG contains substantially more plutonium than what we see inserted into the Delorean.

What does it take to generate that 1.21 gigawatts of power? You need a nuclear power station with a large fission reactor. That reactor can produce one gigawatt of power over the course of an entire year, producing about 25 metric tons of waste, up to about 290 kilograms of which is plutonium. 290 kilograms of plutonium versus 187 grams, that's three orders of magnitude greater than what is in the Delorean. Not only that, but Doc Brown's reactor is able to immediately extract all the energy from its fuel with extraordinary efficiency.

In the span of only a few minutes at most, Doc Brown's reactor is able to take 187 grams of plutonium and convert it DIRECTLY into substantially more electrical energy than a full size plutonium reactor from a nuclear power station can produce in a year with 1,550 times more fuel--all in an apparatus small enough to fit inside a car without encumbering it.

Perhaps, after the events of the third film, and Doc Brown is declared missing and presumed dead, the state begins going through his belongings, where they find the specifications for his hyper-efficient reactor and that gives rise to the kinds of power generation needed to perform high-energy particle experiments needed to expand humanity's understanding of science. That in turn could have given rise to the technology necessary for the creation of hover conversion systems for cars, hover boards, and even Mr. Fusion.

Doc Brown is a freaking GENIUS!!

[gentlepyrate]

𝐈𝐒𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐋   //   @izzyhnds​​

[ RESTRAIN ]:    sender physically restrains the receiver from attacking someone else. (but reverse?)

" Israel! "   It's sharp enough already, but Izzy doesn't respond but to ignore it. Stede watches him move to rush forward and darts forward before his foot can even lift from the ground.

" HANDS! "   That's the sort of voice even Stede doesn't expect from himself, a loud sort of bark. It's the voice of a captain, and a rather disappointed one at that. 

As soon as Izzy takes his first step, he is yanked back by a hand at holding onto the back of his collar. Stede pulls Izzy back by that grip, his other hand slipping around his arms at the elbow. Using his size in comparison to Izzy's to his advantage, he hauls Izzy backward and swings him, and swiftly slams him against the mast.

" Stand down. NOW. "   It's a firm order, low and demanding in Izzy's ear, and Stede looks, frankly, pissed, though Izzy can't see him, keeping Izzy pushed firmly against the mast, with a hand in a fist at the back of his collar, his arms looped through, bodily pressing Izzy into the wood, not letting up.   " That's an order. "

He can hear Ed salvaging the rest of the situation behind him, making sure no one else goes after the man running way from their ship. Stede doesn't pay them any mind, but waits until it seems like Izzy won't be too much trouble before he hauls him forward by the back of his vest and directs him to the captain's quarters, bringing both of them inside.

The door is shut firmly behind them, not quite a slam, but certainly louder than usual. 

They'd discussed this. Stede had told him not to touch their guest, no matter what, and albeit, he had expected Izzy to ignore that after what seemed to be a robbery of their ship, but he had also expected Izzy to stand down after his first order and not force him to physically intervene after his fourth.

He takes a second, facing the door, to take a breath before he turns around.

" Go sit down, "   Stede orders, not even looking at Izzy, just pointing towards the couch.   " Now. "

[gilmoregirlscult]

Season 1, Episode 2

"The Lorelais' First Day At Chilton"

In the opening scene, Lane runs in the Gilmores' house with her new CD. It's Wasp Star (Apple Venus Volume 2) by the English rock band XTC, released in the 20th of May, 2000.

Next morning, it's Rory's first day at her new school. Chilton is a very imposing building and Rory says she remembers it being smaller and less "off with their heads". The Queen of Hearts is a fictional character and the main antagonist in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. One of her most famous lines is "Off with his/her head!" / "Off with their heads!"

Lorelai says "I'm trying to see if there's a Hunchback in that tower", comparing it to the Notre-Dame Cathedral, in reference to the 1831 French gothic novel by Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame.

Rory wants Lorelai to go with her, but she thinks she's not dressed properly. The Dukes of Hazzard is an American action comedy television series that aired on CBS from 1979 to 1985. The show is about two cousins, Bo and Luke Duke, who live in rural Georgia. Their cousin, Daisy Duke, is "that chick" Lorelai is referencing, since she's wearing jeans and cowboy boots. There are more cowgirl comparisons, from Rory proclaiming she didn't know the rodeo was in town, to Emily later asking her if her horse is parked out front and saying "no spurs please" to Friday night dinner.

Rory says she wants to be like Christiane Amanpour, a British-Iranian journalist and television host. From 1992 to 2010, (so at the time) Amanpour was CNN's chief international correspondent. Headmaster Charleston - condescendingly - mentions Cokie Roberts (American journalist and author, at the time a reporter for ABC News), Oprah (producer and host of The Oprah Winfrey Show), Rosie O'Donnell (at the time, host of her daytime talk show The Rosie O'Donnell Show) and the talkshow The View (an American talk show that aired on ABC as part of the network's daytime programming block since 1997) and asks "And to be a part of something big you have to be on TV?" clearly taking the tv-host part to heart, thinking that Rory just wants to be a reporter.

In the same scene, Rory says "And I was in the German Club for a while, but there were only three of us, and then two left for the French Club after seeing Schindler’s List, so..."

Schindler's List is a 1993 American historical drama film directed and produced by Steven Spielberg. It is based on the 1982 novel Schindler's Ark by Thomas Keneally. Based on real life events, it tells the story of Oskar Schindler, a German Nazi Party member who unexpectedly became a World War II hero after saving hundreds of Jews from Auschwitz.

Later, Louise calls Rory a Dixie Chick cause she's from Stars Hollow. The Dixie Chicks, now known as The Chicks, are an American country band from Dallas.

Miss Patty is teaching a class of baton twirling to the patriotic American march The Stars and Stripes Forever. It was written and composed by John Philip Sousa in 1896.

Lit class at Chilton comes with many brief references, including the Russian writers Leo Tolstoy and Fyodor Dostoevsky, English novelist Charles Dickens and French novelists George Sand (whose full name was Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil) and Honoré de Balzac.

Two of Tolstoy's novels, War and Peace and Anna Karenina, are mentioned, the latter considered to be one of the greatest works of literature ever written. David Copperfield, Great Expectations, A Tale of Two Cities and Little Dorrit are all novels by Charles Dickens.

At the inn, Lorelai tells Sookie, "I was supposed to look together and fabulous, and not like I’d been up all night playing quarters." Quarters is a drinking game which involves players bouncing an American quarter or similar-size coin off a table in an attempt to have the quarter land in a certain place, usually into a shot glass or cup on said table.

Lorelai asks Drella to play the harp softer, to which she replies "Hey, do I look like I got Panasonic stamped on my ass?", meaning she's not a stereo whose volume you can adjust, since Panasonic is a Japanese multinational company that makes consumer's electronics.

Miss Patty says to the girls in her dance class: "Now walk smooth that's the new Harry Potter on your heads, if they should drop Harry would die and there won't be any more books". At the time, the "new" Harry Potter was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, published in early July 2000.

We learn that Lorelai and Rory have dial-up internet access, when Emily tries to install a DSL at their house. A DSL, or Digital subscriber line, is a family of technologies that are used to transmit digital data over telephone lines. In telecommunications marketing and in this episode, the term DSL is understood to mean asymmetric digital subscriber line (ADSL), the most commonly installed DSL technology, for internet access.

The guy installing it is called Mick and played by Sean Gunn, who will later be renamed and become the regular character Kirk Gleason instead.

Lorelai says her problems are nothing Shakespear couldn't turn into a really good play. William Shakespear was an English playwright and a common theme in his tragedies is the idea of family.

"The Romanists have, with great adroitness, drawn three walls round themselves, with which they have hither to protected themselves, so that no one could reform them, whereby all Christendom has fallen terribly."

Rory’s history class is studying the German theologican Martin Luther, who was a seminal figure in the Protestant Reformation. His theological beliefs form the basis of Lutheranism. The teacher quotes from Luther’s tract To the Christian Nobility of the German Nation (1520).

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy", often shortened to "all work and no play", is an old proverb that means without time off from work, a person becomes both bored and boring. It was newly popularized after the phrase was featured in The Shining, the 1980 psychological horror film produced and directed by Stanley Kubrick that Lorelai is referencing. The movie is based on Stephen King's 1977 novel of the same name.

As Lorelai explains, Tristan has been calling Rory "Mary" because of the Virgin Mary, meaning that she looks like a goody-goody, a virgin. She adds that if, in the guys' opinion, she looked like a slut, they'd probably call her Mary Magdalene instead. She was a woman who, according to the four canonical gospels, traveled with Jesus as one of his followers and was a witness to His crucifixion and resurrection. In popular culture, she is often viewed as a sinful woman and portrayed as a prostitute.

"Wow, biblical inslults, this is an advanced school!"

"Do you want me to talk to anybody? A parent, a teacher, a big guy named Moose?" Lorelai is refering to Marmaduke "Moose" Mason a fictional character in the Archie Comics universe. He was originally created to serve as the personification and stereotype of the jock and as such, he's strong, athletic and often protects his friends from bullies.

[priafey]

suck the pit sunday. or something

hi i thought it would be fun to do a fruit review today since i got my hands on not one, but two bunches of spanish limes (quenepas), from different trees!! the temptation to do a side-by-side comparison of these was too great. are you ready to go on a fruit journey with me? okay. let's gooooo

– External appearance –

those with a keen eye will note a few key differences between the quenepas on the left, in the steel bowl, and those on the right, in the ceramic bowl. the steel ones are larger (about the diameter of a quarter), slightly more lens-shaped, and have a more undulated surface, while the ceramic ones are smaller (about the diameter of a nickel), rounder, and have more distinct 'points' scattered over the surface or peel. there is also a slight difference in color, with the larger quenepas being a darker shade of green and the smaller quenepas being a more yellowish green.

(important to note is that brown spots, scuffs, and other blemishes are not reliable indicators of the ripeness of quenepas)

– Internal appearance –

once you crack open a quenepa, you start to get a pretty good idea of what you're in for, flavor-wise. i use the word 'crack' idiomatically here; the peel of a quenepa is actually somewhere between brittle and rubbery, easily 'snapping' or 'popping' when one applies a little pressure with the ol' incisors, creating a convenient seam you can use to expose the pulp.

the difference here is staggering. the images above showcase not only the difference in size of each group of quenepas (relative to my thumb), but also in the texture and color of the pulp. the larger quenepas have a darker, more stringy-looking, pinkish pulp while the smaller ones have a pulp that is a lighter, slightly translucent, almost orange pink, with a more gelatinous texture.

though not evident in the pictures above, i should mention that a good chunk of the larger quenepas also had small, dark pink spots on the inside, completely absent from the smaller quenepas that i sampled. this is a good indicator that they may be overripe, or were improperly picked. at this point, you'd be smart to bet that the smaller quenepas will provide a better eating experience, if only because you can safely assume they'll have a better mouthfeel. as for the flavor...

– Taste –

quenepas are usually eaten by popping the whole, peeled fruit in your mouth and using your teeth and tongue to strip the pulp from the smooth pit in the center. this pit is then spit out and discarded, though it is also edible when prepared in a similar fashion as other nuts like almonds or cashews (hulled, then toasted). an unfortunate feature of the quenepa is that its pit is usually about the same diameter as a human windpipe, and rather slippery. for this reason, it makes an excellent choking hazard, so it's recommended that they only be given to children to eat with adult supervision.

in regards to mouthfeel, the larger quenepas were definitely a let-down. the pulp is decidedly stringy and vaguely fibrous, and doesn't easily detach from the pit, which is a staple of quenepas that are good for sucking/chewing on. they were also quite watery in comparison to the smaller quenepas, which had a wonderfully smooth, jelly-like nectar and pulp. easy to strip from the pit and easy to savor.

the flavor of the larger quenepas also left much to be desired. the wateriness extended to their flavor, which was rather muted insofar as sweetness. there was also something imperceptibly bitter about their nectar, in a way that suggested they may have been picked prematurely and ripened off the branch. the smaller quenepas, however, are a delight. super sweet, with a distinctive waxiness/pithyness that's offset perfectly by their acidity. an exquisite marriage between the flavors one might experience from a green grape, a very sweet lemon, and a strawberry.

– The Verdict –

the smaller quenepas took the crown here. no doubt about it, i'll be snacking on these guys all night.

but the larger quenepas have their place, too! though they're not much good for eating, the same features that make them suck for sucking on (pardon the redundancy) make them good for steeping. in what, you might ask? liquor! their wateriness, muted flavor, and the stubbornness of their pulp make them great for the manufacture of pitorro or bilí.

no quenepa left behind...

[ggype123]

Data Management for Analysis of Smoking Behavior among Young Adults

Sample

The data used in this analysis originates from the first wave of the National Epidemiologic Survey on Alcohol and Related Conditions (NESARC), a comprehensive longitudinal study investigating alcohol and drug use along with related psychiatric and medical comorbidities across the United States. Conducted in 2001-2002, the NESARC survey includes a representative sample of the civilian, non-institutionalized adult population (N=43,093).

The participants were sampled from a broad demographic, including individuals living in households, military personnel off-base, and residents of group quarters such as boarding houses, non-transient hotels, shelters, and college dormitories. To ensure diverse representation, the survey oversampled Blacks, Hispanics, and young adults aged 18-24 years.

For this study, the data analytic sample was restricted to respondents aged 18-25 who reported smoking at least one cigarette per day in the past 30 days, yielding a final sample size of N=1,320.

Data Collection Procedure

Data collection was performed by trained U.S. Census Bureau Field Representatives using computer-assisted personal interviews (CAPI). Interviews were conducted in the participants' homes following informed consent. The process was designed to ensure high-quality data collection and maintain respondent confidentiality.

Key steps in the data collection procedure included:

Selection: One adult was selected for the interview in each household.

Interview: Conducted in the respondent’s home using CAPI to enhance accuracy and completeness.

Informed Consent: Obtained from all participants before the interview to ensure ethical standards were met.

The survey incorporated a variety of modules to capture a comprehensive view of alcohol and drug use, including detailed questions about tobacco use patterns.

Measures

The measures used in this analysis were derived from the Alcohol Use Disorder and Associated Disabilities Interview Schedule – DSM-IV (AUDADIS-IV), a structured interview tool developed by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA). This instrument assesses a wide range of psychiatric disorders and substance use behaviors, including tobacco use.

The primary variables examined in this study are:

Lifetime Major Depression:

Measure: Assessed using AUDADIS-IV, includes experiences of depression within the past 12 months and prior.

Management: Binary variable indicating presence or absence of lifetime major depression.

Current Smoking:

Measure:

Smoking Frequency: Evaluated with the question “About how often did you usually smoke in the past year?” Coded dichotomously to represent daily smoking (Yes/No).

Smoking Quantity: Measured by asking “On the days that you smoked in the last year, about how many cigarettes did you usually smoke?” Ranges from 1 to 98 cigarettes per day.

Management:

Frequency: Binary variable indicating whether the participant smoked daily.

Quantity: Continuous variable for the number of cigarettes smoked per day.

Other Variables:

Demographics: Age, Gender, Ethnicity (Hispanic, White, Black, Native American, Asian)

Substance Use: Alcohol use, Marijuana use, Cocaine use, Inhalant use

Behavioral and Psychological Factors: Deviant behavior, Violence, Depression, Self-esteem

Family and School Connectedness: Parental presence, Parental activities, Family connectedness, School connectedness

All variables were standardized to facilitate comparison and analysis. The data management steps involved cleaning the dataset to handle missing values, coding the categorical variables appropriately, and transforming quantitative variables to ensure they were standardized (mean=0, SD=1).

Data Management Steps:

Data Cleaning: Handling missing values using listwise deletion for participants with missing key variables.

Coding: Ensuring categorical variables were coded consistently (e.g., 0 for No, 1 for Yes).

Standardization: Transforming continuous variables to have a mean of zero and a standard deviation of one to facilitate analysis and interpretation.

[saselfdefense]

What kinds of pepper sprays are there? S.A. Self Defense explains.

Break Down the pepper spray S.A. With a wide variety of pepper sprays and bear repellents available in the market, it's crucial to understand the differences between them. The effectiveness of these products depends on factors such as formulation, range, and ease of use. Byrna Max and Hell BGR stand out as superior options in their respective categories, providing unmatched performance and reliability.

Different Types & Effectiveness

We will break down the different types of pepper spray, Range distance and effectiveness with ingredients. 1st up: Oil / Gel Based pepper spray - Oil or "Gel" based pepper spray like the Byrna MAX BGR pictured above, is more potent and longer-lasting than water-based pepper spray, as it sticks to the skin and eyes more effectively and is harder to wash off. It also has a slight advantage over spray for reducing the potential for cross contamination and blowback, as its sticky formula holds active ingredients within a concentrated stream focused toward your target.  2nd: Water based pepper spray - Water-based pepper spray like the Byrna HELL BGR pictured above, is safer to use indoors or in close quarters, as it reduces the risk of cross-contamination, inhalation and can be removed from the target area room, surrounding walls and furniture easier. The water based spray does shoot a pretty wide fan as the oil or gel based is more steady streamed. Each have their benefits and drawbacks such as the wind, proximity to other people, effective time to aim, and time it stays on the attacker. https://youtu.be/2utImT_eXSY 3rd: UV Dyed in Pepper spray - We highly recommend finding a pepper spray and Bear or animal repellent with UV dye built into it like shown in the video above! The UV dye helps either law enforcement identify the attacker weather it's a human or an animal like a bear. This way they just need a UV light to identify. Any way we can help it the best way! Say your hiking and need to use your repellent on an animal. That animal can no be singled out by a hero LE. Those are pretty much the 3 different types on Pepper spray on the market today. Now we can look at there effectiveness. Which comes down to size, range and ingredients. Size, Range and ingredients: - There are basically 3 sizes out there and each with increase there range as the size goes up like the pepper spray products above on Sale of course from your favorites a S.A. Self Defense. We will take a look at our favorite and recommended for the size comparison and range the Byrna BGR Max. - Bryan BGR Max smallest 0.5 oz: This pepper spray is small and compact and can be concealed anywhere on person , at home or in the car. It has a range of 8 to 10 feet for 5 seconds and is highly effective with 1.4 Major Capsaicinoids (maximum allowed by law) for its ingredients. - Byrna BGR MAX medium 2 oz : This pepper spray is medium size and is 4.25 inches tall and 1.35 inches wide and can be carried and concealed in most areas. It has a range of 8 - 10 feet for 15 seconds. It is highly effective with 1.4 Major Capsaicinoids (maximum allowed by law) for its ingredients. The range hasn't gone up yet but the time to spray has. - Byrna BGR MAX largest 1 lb: This is the largest and is usually used not only for all around but as a bear repellent as well. This size pepper spray while not to easy to conceal you can still carry and use it for home, car and outdoors. It has a range of up to 30 feet for 160 seconds. It is highly effective with 1.4 Major Capsaicinoids (maximum allowed by law) for its ingredients. The range and spray time has more than doubled with the 1 lb spray! Depending on your comfort ,need or location we still highly recommend getting a spray that does include the UV dye in the ingredients. You can see the size variations in the products below: The pepper spray ingredients Pepper spray or Oleoresin capsicum (OC) sprays are usually made with these major ingredients  dihydrocapsaicin (35.8–48%),  capsaicin (33–47.8%),  nordihydrocapsaicin (7.7–20%), homocapsaicin (1.3–7%),  nonivamide (1.2–5.5%) and homodihydrocapsaicin (1.9–2.9) , . Yes we know that is not English for most of us but if you really want to dive into a case study you can check out this one on Pepper spray ingredients As far as what's in S.A. Self Defense's Favorite and most effective pepper spray, the Byrna BGR MAX well that my friends is a trade secret, but Byrna kindly provided us with the SDS sheet for the Byrna BGR Max and we know it is as much this, they have 4 Major Capsaicinoids with maximum allowed by law. See the Byrna Max BGR SDS sheet here With that pepper We hope you know more about pepper sprays and the different types to help you stay safe and happy. We are always happy to help keeping our great country safe! If you have any questions contact us anytime with that button below: ASK S.A. SELF DEFENSE ABOUT PEPPER SPRAY You can purchase any products mentioned in this briefing below: Read the full article

[twilightpony4]

Backwoods: 2. Bouncin' Around

Nobody really knew when they were born. Splinter had always known his age given the biological qualities of a rat and a person in comparison. Whatever age the boys were was all a guess. They were barely crawling upon mutation; he assumed they were barely a year by human age standards and guessed as they went through developmental milestones. The only way they could determine a birthday was by calculating when red eared slider turtles would hatch after the breeding season. Henceforth, the family would just celebrate their birth on the first day of June because babies of their breed would hatch in the early summer. It wasn’t approximate but it was a time for them to collectively celebrate their new coming of age. 

The sun was out and peeking through the cracks of the sewer. Usually at least one of them would be up in the early hour given that their prime time had become the night when they would work, but they truly listened to the NYPD’s wishes to enjoy their time off from work and indulge themselves for the day. This time, the two usual cerulean-banded sliders were sound asleep in their own rooms. However, sleeping in was a disgrace in one’s eyes, especially since he was well known in this field of irritation and annoyance. The orange banded turtle woke up with a passion as he turned on the faucet water to wash his hands.

“I can’t believe they still sleepin’ when they know our birthday is today.” He mumbled to himself, turning off the water. “I got something for them though.” He huffed. From the kitchen, he grabbed a metal pot and ravaged the drawers for a wooden spoon. With each in hand, he set off for the main hallway. How they arranged their rooms was different this time around as they continued to update their home for the ever-growing children. On the opposite side of Splinter’s quarters, the rowdy bunch were stashed in separate rooms within a T-shape hall. No longer were they in open rooms or up in their circular, lifted quarters, but now a garage door gave them the privacy they wanted when they needed it, much like their old bathroom. They were grown enough for it anyways. However, they normally kept it cracked open up to their calves so that the family could alert them if there was an emergency, but Mikey had a different use to go through. Leonardo was in the first room down on the left side, so his door was opened up first. Every loud, creaking industrial noise a garage can make while being violently pushed up as produced. Michelangelo had no intentions to be quiet at all as he went through and opened up  next. With his door lifted up, Mikey began to scream and bang the spoon on the pot. “Ey! Ey! EY! Wake up! Get up! Get up! Get-Up!” He screamed, then he made a break for the other side of the hall to open up the rest of their doors. “Get up! Get-Up! I ain’t get no sleep so you ain’t gonna get none either!” The last room was Mona’s and he entered hers since Raphael’s large body was missing from his bed when he went into his room. Without fear, he approached her bed and banged loud against the head of his sleeping brother. Due to the size of the mattresses and how they’re able to sleep on them in the first place, his body engulfed hers as his arm pinned her down in slumber. It was actually pretty comfortable for the both of them despite how large he was compared to her. He cracked an eye open to look up. Mona sounded disgusted and tried to hide underneath his body. “Get up! Get up! Get-up-get-up-get-up-get-up-get-up!” Gaining a response, the orange banded terrapin stopped briefly.

“Bro, I know you lying.” Raphael groaned under his forearm.

“Ya’ll just nasty.” their brother replied in disgust.

“I fell asleep.” Raphael defended why he wasn’t in his room for the night. The young turtle ignored him as he jumped over the bed. His foot touched down on the mattress, shifting the two sleepers to that side and growing even more mad than before. No permission, he opened up her drawers and began digging.

“Guess what I got for yall….” From them, he pulled out the recognizable pink garments she wore on a nightly basis. “Clothes! Get up!” He threw the two-piece at the two in a ball. The young turtle sprinted out the room and began doing the same thing to everyone else. “This is what you wearing.” To not waste time, he only threw shorts or pants (whichever was easier to find, he just wanted them to get dressed) at his remaining two brothers and sister.  “This is what you wearing.” He came back in Mona’s room. Raphael was sitting at the edge of the bed, handing Mona her stuff although she’d rather throw her blanket up over her head. “I got something for you too.” Mikey pointed at his brother from the entrance. Then, he threw a pair of his black shorts at him before disappearing again. “Come on, and wake up!”

“I wanted to sleep in. That was my dream for my 18th.” Donnie muttered to himself. His upper body slouched over till his elbows hit his knees. Sitting at the edge of the bed and contemplating why he was listening to Michelangelo in the first place kept him there wondering how long he would choose to sit there till he got up. I mean, dude’s tired. Why don’t we not get up and just sit here like this. This is fine.

“Wellllll MLK,” Mikey stuck his head out from under the doorway. “that don’t fit into mine! C’mon! Get up! Angel finna be here to turn up so get up.” The turtle scooted to his room to do whatever else he could to make the morning more obnoxious. Before he disappeared, he gave a little hip swinging dance with his arms above his head and swung them abruptly. “My best friend finna- get up right now!”

Leonardo got up first (surprise, surprise).  He hopped off the steps from the hallway and towards the kitchen.

“Sensei!” He called. Dad!” A little louder. Nothing came back. Not a word or a subtle appearance.

“Ah, he left to go shoppin’.” He jumped when Michelangelo grabbed his shoulder and hung off of his older brother. His weight pushed him forward into a stumble.

“Getting stuff for us? I’d hate for him to go alone and carrying stuff around.” As he should. Aside from being a mutant, sensei was getting up in his years every year. Yes, he could definitely take on his sons easily (less as time goes on), but a son worries about his father just as much as the other way around.

“He got picked up by Casey. Don’t worry, Angel came too so they’ll have some muscle.” He winked and gave him a knowing click of the tongue before pushing down on his shoulder to jump off of him. The eldest brother smirked and followed the family into the kitchen.

Donnie and Venus were promptly joined by Michelangelo at the table. When Leonardo walked in, Mona Lisa sat atop the counter as she watched Raphael open up the kitchen cabinet.

“We did it boys.” Raphael spoke loudly which startled the crowd. 

“Huh?” Donnie placed one earbud over his ears to dampen his tone. The rebel turtle closed the cabinet he was getting into and pulled out a new box of Lucky Charms.

“We actually lived for another year.”  He pulled out a bowl and poured over half of it inside. He was a growing boy afterall.

“For real, the stuff we be doing I’m surprised myself.” Mona nodded in agreement, then took the box and grabbed a handful of the cereal before stuffing herself. Raphael began to list as he ventured over to the fridge:

“Guns, thugs, poison gas, evil magicians-.”

“ alien invasions, manhunts, robots, and potential health concerns…” Venus finished before getting a collection of confused stares. “Don’t tell me he doesn’t eat too much pizza.” She pointed directly to Michelangelo. The turtle felt attacked as he gasped softly while clutching his chest. However, the air hung for only so long until the family agreed.

“You right.” They agreed in differed responses.

“Speaking of….!” He sang. In no time he tiptoed away with his back arch backwards slightly. “I’m gonna go dial the place to serve the ‘death of me’.” The young turtle picked up his phone and began dialing but not before sticking his tongue out at his so-called “family”.

“I’m gonna use the livingroom to meditate for a sec. That alright?” Leonardo asked as he got to fixing himself a kettle of tea.

“Sure, go for it.”

“I was gonna back back for a nap anyways.” At the end of his sentence, Raphael yawned. His hands went over his face and rubbed his brows up and down, avoiding to keep his nose out of his bowl.

“Me too.” Mona added. Michelangelo yelled: “Ya nasties!” much to their dismay. 

The clan began to disperse. The lovebirds returned to Mona’s (with that unfinished cereal), the besties kept in the kitchen, Mikey was still on the phone with the pizza people (which is crazy since they’re open in the morning anyways), and Leo took himself to the living room. The rushing water from the slide was always loud but it had noise-blocking capabilities from the family’s shenanigans as Splinter discovered. The match cackled as he lit it up and placed the flame on a few select candles. It would take time for the aroma to even make a hint of its appearance due to both water and sewer smells, but that was not their job anyways. It was all for the mood. Splinter had so many candles because he would often stare into them to reach his point of relaxation. The movement of the flame entertained him and slowed down his body functions into a state of relaxation. For now, Leonardo used it as mild stimulation as listening to subtle, environmental sounds kept him in a spiritual state.

He kneeled down on the rug that sat at the epicenter of the arrangement of candles. His legs intertwined with one another as he sat down. To start himself off, he began with deep breathing. The first held breath refreshed him as he exhaled. Inhale, exhale. His system began to slow down and his focus sharpened.

“Lucali! Yeah, I wanna whole pie plus the calzone.” Leonardo’s body twitched. His right eye cracked open and began to search around. Far out of his eyesight, Michelangelo was on his shell-cell.

“Lemme tell ya, how ‘bout you put all the toppings on.” The eldest brother shook his head, closed his eye, and tried to tone his young brother out. “Nah fam, for real, put everything on it. I swear, it finna be good.”

“Mikey.” Leonardo muttered to catch his attention.

“And no anchovies, and I mean no anchovies! You tryna be funny and put anchovies on it and I’m deeming you dead to me.” Suddenly, a tall candlestick holder was hurdled towards the orange banded turtle. He shrieked as the holder smacked him on the arm.

“Michelangelo!” Leonardo’s voice echoed throughout the entire lair, making everything stop and stare. Mikey kept the phone to his ear as he locked shocked eyes with his eldest brother.

“That’ll do.” He continued in a shaky voice before hanging up the phone.

“Please!” Leonardo pleaded. Mikey surrendered and began to back off.

“Yeah, yeah. Do your thing. I’ll join you in a bit, how dow dah?” 

“Huh?” but before he could get an answer, Mikey had already high tailed out of the room. His answered confused him, but he needn’t dwell on it too long. Time to take advantage of the silence. Inhale, exhale. Multiple times needed to bring back that refreshed feeling. Inhale, hold, exhale.

“Bouncin' around, bouncin' around, bouncin', Bouncin' around, bouncin' around, bouncin'

Scrunchin' their eyes with your name in their mouth and Bouncin' around, bouncin' around, bouncin'...” From the moment the music started, Leonardo’s trance was fatally interrupted by the booming of the speakers. His eyes locked onto the weird sight in front of him. Michelangelo was not not alone as he and Donatello danced vivaciously to ‘Lemon’, taking no care to Leo’s previous demands.

“Do y'all not see me trying to meditate?” He asked rudely, but with good purpose.

“This is like meditating!” Mikey mocked.

“It’s our birthday,” Donnie insisted. “get off your high horse and get over here!” The eldest turtle grouched, sinking into himself. He let out a big groan. Then, he got up and joined them.