#rp3

[twixnmix]

Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat and Bobby Martinez photographed by Andy Warhol at the Factory in New York City, 1984.

[ushidok]

My inner child is happy

[stemlyns]

JC: Alternate defibrillation strategies in refractory VF. The DoseVF trial. St Emlyn's

Review of an RCT in NEJM comparing dual sequence defibrillation against antero-lateral and antero-posterior pad positions. Traditional AL is the least effective. Will this change your practice? #FOAMed @stemlyns

Early defibrillation is a key step in the management of cardiac arrest patients patients with VF/VT In many cases defibrillation does indeed revert the patient to a better rhythm, but not always. I find that there are two groups of patients that we struggle with. The first is the group whom I do not seem to be able to get out of a shockable rhythm. I defibrillate them, but it seems that they do…

[mypanicatsix]

Despite all of the controversy around the grumps i still think this was one of the best shows I’ve been to! The community was amazing and it’s was such good vibes the whole time ☺️ I’m not condoning anything that Danny or the grumps have done as of late, I’m just missing nights like these

[neroziehe]

The man behind the story

“You did what?!” Cecil barked in laughter, head falling back as tears formed under his eyes.  “Are you finished?” Nero snapped, folding his arms defensively.

Cecil wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, chest still rolling with the last of his laughter. “I’m sorry dude but really? you made a house call. An honest to god house call for some girl?” he repeated skeptically. “I mean I know I pushed you in the right direction, but I didn’t think you’d do this” he said, eyesbrows both raised as he shook his head. Cecil had know Nero for about 5 years, ever since a one night stand had turned in to a friendship instead of a romantic attachment. “So not only did she not call you the whole week. But you asked her out and she said no?” he asked. Nero shook his head, taking a large gulp of his beer “ She said a bar wasn’t her scene. It wasn’t a solid no” he assured his friend.

Cecil leaned back in the booth they were sat in, adjusting his shoulders slightly so his familiar could rest on his shoulders comfortablly. Ell kept her keen eyes out towards the bustling crowd around them, ready to alert Cecil to trouble if needed.  “well sure but then not showing at the market yesterday either. I dont think shes interested man” he said, trying his best sorry frown.

Nero sighed heavily, meeting Cecils eyes across the table “She’s just a little nervous is all. I can still pull anybody in here and you know it” he smirked, a challenge lighting in his eyes. “Care for a friendly bet?” he teased, elbows resting infront of him on the table. 

Cecil leaned towards him until they were mere Centimeters apart. “You know it love” he whispered. “stakes?” he questioned.

“I leave with someone by the nights end and you owe me dinner. If I don’t then I’ll supply your honey free of charge the next month” he offered. Cecil hummed softly “sure... but you leave by 11pm. not closing time, thats to late” he amended. 

The two men shook hands and Cecil left the booth with a smirk, Ell curling around his arm for a better grip. 

[wordsofabandonment]

frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment: a tale of fire and sadism

it's so sick of me

I enjoy the satisfaction of leaving someone first

I get hurt or disappointed or start to fear more abandonment from someone

and I grow distant and become unattached

and I know that it will hurt them

but I do it anyways

because I can't do this again

I have to protect myself

(or, at least, that's what I tell myself)

and I like it

I like thinking about how they're the one hurt now

it's revenge for hurting me

I'm angry

and I enjoy watching them suffer

because now, now

now they get to taste just the tiniest bit of agony

that I feel when I feel abandoned

now they know how I feel

I watch them burn across from the crumbling bridge

that I set alight

and I look down at my own burns

so many scars

and I'll create more

in this endless cycle

better them than me, better them than me

I tell myself

I've been through enough

but later, much later

when I'm alone in the dark

I'll break down and cry

my scars will sting when the tears land on them

as if they're being burned all over again

and I'll tell myself that I'm a monster

for hurting them

and I'll realize

that I'm right

I'm a monster

[faded-steven]

Set a week+ after this thread: LINK

Semi-Open RP: Mainly meant to be between @no-escapism and me, but others are welcome in the mix if you find a good spot :)

It wasn't so bad in the Clutter Verse- everyone called it something a little different, with only one thing the same- Clutter. And cluttered it was. Full of people and places and there couldn't possibly be enough room for them all, but somehow there was, somehow it seemed almost empty sometimes. It was strange, but not bad.

Bad was when he looked in the mirror for too long. Bad was when something happened and he just couldn't... Respond.

Bad was when you decline shelter for the night, so you end up shivering on the beach because you don't want to go too far from the only person you trusted here, and then when he comes outside the next day he sees you sitting on the sand so, so tired and you finally accept his offer to sleep over for just one night, at least, and lo 'n' behold- you'd been an idiot and gotten sick from sleeping outside, and you're really embarrassed (must have been super bad for you to feel it) because this person was nice, they made you feel safe and you'd been stupid. You proved to him that you were a total wet noodle.

Of course, it wasn't all that bad, when he got sick. He got to drink hot cocoa and sit on a comfortable couch (after he'd cleaned it of his blood, apologising profusely- there was still red on the fabric) and the occasional bag of popcorn.

He got to hang out in a warm house, and try not to look at everything too much because then his mind would wander, and he'd think about the people he was ripped away from, that he'd left behind.

He was almost used to his new name- Faded- and almost used to sleeping on the couch because it would be pretty rude to take a bed when he didn't actually live there. When he didn't quite belong yet.

He got rid of that horrible ratty nest of an outfit, and replaced with something much brighter. He knew the colors were garish and annoying, that was the point- so people wouldn't look at his bleached skin and wonder, or, heavens forbid ask : what happened to him?

He didn't want to think about it, so he didn't want others to think about it either. The guilt still grated in the back of his mind every once in a while, and he did his best to ignore it, shove it down. He wasn't about to remember which Gem he had shattered, remember their face and their horror in that moment. He didn't want to.

But it was good. Life was good. And he was pretty sure it was gonna slowly get better.

[trainmaniac]

NR90 speeds out of Horsham on the Overland bound for Melbourne by bukk05

[hanmairead]

2 years since RP3 Cardiff!

I can’t believe it’s been 2 years since Ready Player 3 in Cardiff and since I met Sean before the show!!

We’ve changed a little bit since then!

Miss you dude 💙 @therealjacksepticeye

[twixnmix]

Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat and Bobby Martinez at the Factory in New York City, 1985.

Photos by Andy Warhol

[octowussabi]

(( @sunshinelulusplatoon moved from heeeree ))

“Free? They actually let you out and about on your own now? Awesome! How’s that been going for you?” Lulu replied, smiles and chipperness about seeing Octavio being out without anybody bothering him or trying to throw him into the snow globe.

“Relax. I just got the recipe off the girls,” Lulu chuckled as she uncovered the basket to show the freshly made crabby cakes. Pulling one out, she held it out for him to take.

“Aww, you don’t have to pay me back Tay. Glad to help,” Lulu replied before giving a puzzled look, “You need my help? For what?”

“Er... well...” Octavio hesitates; he doesn’t want to ruin Lulu’s enthusiasm with the truth. “I escaped, and they haven’t bothered to try and capture me again. Probably because I haven’t done any more ‘bad things’ yet.” 

Even after her reassurance, Tay squints suspiciously at the cake, but tosses his gloves aside so he can take it with clean hands. He doesn’t eat it immediately.

“Perfect, I can write that off,” the emperor smirks, pleased to be given the all-clear and far too eager to drop anything he might owe. He rests against a broken refrigerator before elaborating on his request. “Remember all that time ago when I mentioned I couldn’t visit the castle labs? I went and demanded clearance, and they gave me it, but they’ve since abandoned the workplace. I’ve been meaning to go down there and check it out, but it’s quite ... er ... mysterious, and I wouldn’t want to get lost there alone, and I’m not exactly best buds with any of my patrol, so...” 

Octavio finally takes a cautious bite of the Crabby Cake. He tries to look unimpressed, but it’s obvious he likes them a fair bit. “Hm. They’re okay.” 

[stemlyns]

Just a routine resuscitation. The AMAX4 algorithm for anaphylaxis/asthma. St Emlyn's

An introduction and links to the AMAX4 algorithm to manage life threatening allergy and anaphylaxis. #FOAMed #MacMcKenzie Dr Ben McKenzie

This post is from Australia and was brought to us by Dr Ben McKenzie. The events that precede this blog are utterly tragic, but from such tragedy there is hope that we can all do better in the treatment of life threatening anaphylaxis. I urge you to read on and to follow the links to the AMAX4 website, to talk about it with colleagues and to share widely. We thank Ben and his family for sharing…

[tinypaigie]

Hey jack ! any chance you got my gift ? I left it with a crew guy in London RP3 ! Just wanna make sure it came your way

[wordsofabandonment]

another new unsent message

Look. I'm not a good person to get involved with.

I told you about some of my trauma. I told you I don't trust people anymore or feel safe with anyone. I told you I burn bridges more often than not.

And it's... for the better, to be honest. One thing my trauma has given me is very black-and-white thinking. Which means that, in a moment, I go from idealizing someone (thinking they're entirely good and caring for them far too intensely) to devaluing them--thinking they're entirely bad and hating them). And when I switch to devaluing someone, I'm very quick to anger and hatred.

You told me about some of your own trauma. I don't want to be another bad friend, another toxic person who throws you away, another one to devalue you. Because I really do think you're a good person, despite my unstable emotions that warn me otherwise. You don't deserve my anger or hatred. But even after so many years, I still haven't found a way to prevent them from appearing yet. So it's better if I distance myself.

The only way to stop my black-and-white thinking about someone is to stop thinking about them entirely. The only way to stop feeling so strongly about someone is to not care for them as much. I'm trying to keep myself safe and possibly protect you as well. At least, I tell myself that. I'm sorry if that hurts you. I don't want to hurt you right now. That's why this is better. I told you I don't trust anyone, and that includes myself.

I'm not going to ask for forgiveness or care or even understanding. I just want to explain myself before I completely burn this bridge and leave for good. You deserve some finality at least. I know certain people haven't given you that. And I wanted to show you that you deserve it, no matter what they might say or do. I never wished for it to end this way, but there was a part of me that knew it was inevitable from the beginning. That's why I gave you so many warnings to start with. And they all came true. I can't say it's been entirely amazing or entirely horrible, but in the end, I am glad I met you.

Goodbye.

[dellstra]

Proud of you guys. <3 I hope you’re having a good time. :)

[splattales]

@helpful-yellow-inkling

It was another one of those days. After a near-sleepless night, Finn had crawled out of bed, put on his glasses, and failed to find his contact lenses to replace them. Not feeling like turning his entire room upside-down to search for them, he left to visit Marie, but with a further stroke of bad luck, it seemed like she wasn’t around today. Agent work was postponed for now. That was fine, he could play some Turf rounds instead. . . but as soon as he’d started having fun, he proceeded to lose five matches in a row. It really wasn’t his day.

Having had enough, Finn stumbled out of the lobby-- and so did everyone else. Caught in a rush of people, he was shoved hard in the back by a passer-by, causing his glasses to fly off his face and land somewhere out of sight. If things had been bad, this was worse. Whichever individual that caused the careless action had already thrown a ‘sorry’ in his direction, and been lost to the crowd. The mint-hued Inkling was left, bleary-eyed, attempting to scan the area for his Retro-Specs. They had to be around here somewhere. . . and hopefully hadn’t been crushed in the stampede. 

Instead of discovering them, however, he noticed another Inkling (perhaps? It was hard to tell for certain in his haze) nearby that hadn’t been swept away by the lobby-leaver’s troop.  They seemed near enough to ask, anyway. 

“Uhm... Excuse me. Have you…seen my glasses?”