#scaffolding delivery

[phdwritingassistance]

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[agbpaints]

Oh the Hellspawn. Another 'mech brought to us by FASA Interactive which was later ported back into the construction rules of Classic Battletech, basically all of the discussion I've found online about the HSN-xx is largely negative, and while I don't necessarily disagree with a lot of the criticism I do think it's a design worth taking a look at.

In the late 3050s the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns determined that their aging fleet of Dervish fast fire support mechs was due for a replacement, having served since the times of the Star League and grown quite obsolete in the intervening centuries. General Motors won the contract to produce the new 'mech in 3060 with their Hellspawn concept, a design that promised to excede the capabilities of the existing DV marks significantly as both a lightweight fire support unit and an interdictor to handle light mechs and C3 spotters used by the Combine. The first 'mechs walked off of the line on Talcott in 3062 into the looming clusterfuck of the FedCom Civil War.

The initial HSN-7D that GM produced on Talcott sets a strong design language regrettably followed by the majority of Hellspawn variants. Weighing 45 tons, the 7D is scaffolded with a GM M-type endosteel chassis and powered by an in-house produced 270 XL fusion engine with 6 jump jets mounted between the side torsos. Dalban provided the electronics system, including an Guardian ECM suite to allow the HSN to add e-war missions to its repertoire. The offensive payload is actually pretty impressive for its weight class- the HSN-7D is armed with a pair of LRM-10s split between the right arm and left torso and supplied by 2 tons of ammunition, supported by three medium pulse lasers mounted on the arms and torso.

Of course, this level of mobility and weaponry comes at a cost- the original production Hellspawn only mounts 6.5 tons of armor. This is less than 70% of the total possible belt and dangerously close to Hellbringer levels of protection. All three torsos can be breached by a gauss rifle slug immediately. GM also neglected th mount CASE on their design, making the already fragile mech highly susceptible to total loss from ammo explosions in the field.

Reactions in the field from AFFS units were... poor. It was immediately apparent that the brass had handed GM the deal without actually considering what was being proposed to them. The Hellspawn's added interdiction capabilities did not offset the 'mech's abysmal protection and the fiddly engine and electronics suites required constant maintenance and parts to keep operational. The 15 year old Dervish 7D was generally favored by pilots and quartermasters- the standard fusion engine meant replacement parts were less expensive and the thicker armor and CASE-protected ammunition bays meant that mechwarriors were less likely to come to understand the workings of their ride's ejector seats personally.

In the face of their product's poor reputation, GM did no soul searching in the following years and instead chose to double down. Introduced in 3068, the HSN-8E did nothing to alter the mech's survivability, instead opting to exchange the arm-mounted pulse lasers for ER models in order to add Artemis firce control systems to the missile launchers. This nominally improves the 'mech's long range damage but in the leadup to the e-war spaked battlefields of the Jihad spending two tons on a 'mech with questionable armor to improve its direct fire capabilities is questionable. The same year GM also released the 9F, a worse than useless refit that removes the ECM suite, a laser, both of the LRM racks, and a half ton of armor (bringing us to 63% belt capacity) in exchange for a pair of MRM-20s. Again, *these are factory refit options from GM*. Someone at the Talcott plant must've been a plant by LOKI because I have no explanation for the AFFS deciding to take delivery of this shit except for a Lyran spy ring.

Luckily worse fortunes for the Inner Sphere led to better mechs. The Talcott plant was bombed by the Blakists during the early stages of the Jihad and presumably one of the casualties in that tragedy was the original design team for the Hellspawn. Shame. When production resumed in 3076, GM introduced a new variant that finally addressed the concerns of the original HSN models, the 10G. One jump jet and the ECM suite have been removed, the LRM launchers have been replaced by a pair of MML-7 variable missile launch systems fed by 3 tons of ammunition and the torso laser has been replaced by a light PPC. While CASE is still absent, light ferro-fibrous armor has been mounted and total protection has been increased to 7.5 tons--this gauss-proofs the torsos and brings the total belt to 83% protection. This is the variant I'm personally most familiar with and I find it a pleasant design to use: the long range damage is similar to the original 7D model but the short range potential throw weight of the MMLs and pulse lasers is brutal and the 3rd ton of ammo allows the 10G to mount inferno munitions alongside standard SRMs and LRMs, making it a general menace to heat hogs and conventional forces.

The final production variant is the 10SR, which focuses on developing the Hellspawn's role as a fast scout. The missiles have been removed completely in favor of paired ER medium lasers and light PPCs in the arms, a light active probe and TAG artillery designator have been added to support the ECM suite, the standard jump jets have been replaced with 8 improved models, and the armor belt has been increased to 9 tons. The 10SR is an incredibly slippery forward scout, combining the durability of a medium mech with the air mobility of a Spider

Overall, discussion focuses on the pre-3070 designs of the Hellspawn, which is understandable given the aversion many Battletech players have to the Jihad and Dark Ages, but a shame because it overlooks a very nice little chassis. With the proliferation of mixed tech designs a "modern" 315x variant of the HSN could likely do some very interesting stuff with the Chassis, possibly flipping the script and mounting clan ER lasers as the long range weapons while turning the missiles into a close-up compliment. If nothing else I hope more people do decide to pick up the 10G- it's a legitimately fanrastic little bodyguard and bully and I've thoroughly enjoyed running it.

[anythinggoesbutme]

Threads of Control

Chapter three of the White Gloves & Coal Dust series

Peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x Everdeen!Reader

Previous Chapters: Click Here

Warnings: emotional manipulation, stalking, invasion of privacy, mild physical intimidation, implied obsession, power imbalance, possessive behavior

Synopsis: Coriolanus begins weaving himself deeper into the Everdeen family’s life—first by charming Hazelle with unexpected favors, then by conducting unofficial “inspections” to learn everything he can about Y/N. But when he finds her alone in a field, he can no longer restrain the tension he feels—cornering her in a moment that blurs the line between attention and control.

Word Count: 2,640

It began with firewood.

Two nights after his unprompted delivery of rations, a small bundle of split pine logs appeared neatly stacked outside the Everdeen home. No note. No knock. Just the wood—dry, clean, and clearly not from District 12’s haphazard stockpiles.

Hazelle noticed it first.

The next time it happened, she waited by the window and caught the flash of a gray uniform disappearing into the trees.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said the following morning when he returned. Her tone was light, amused, touched even. “We manage fine.”

Coriolanus offered her the kind of smile he’d practiced in mirrors since boyhood. Not dazzling, but soft—meant to disarm, to suggest sincerity. He clasped his gloved hands behind his back like he always did when trying to appear harmless.

“I don’t mind,” he said, tone gentle. “It’s no trouble. I had some left from a run the Capitol sent us.”

Which wasn’t true.

But he was finding that the best lies were rooted in just enough plausibility to pass.

Hazelle tilted her head at him, looking through him the way all mothers do when weighing someone’s intent. “Most Peacekeepers don’t go out of their way,” she said, and there was a hint of suspicion there. Barely a sliver.

He let it sit between them for a breath before shrugging, looking almost sheepish. “Most Peacekeepers didn’t grow up with wood fires. I did. I know how miserable it is to wake up cold.”

Hazelle’s features softened. “Capitol boy, were you?”

“Once.” He smiled again, this time with a touch of wistful sadness. “A long time ago.”

The moment passed. She invited him inside.

From there, the offerings became more frequent. Small things. Intentional things.

A vial of medicine when Burdock came home coughing soot. A loaf of bread on a week when the rations had been thin. A fresh needle for Hazelle’s mending basket.

He never asked to stay long. He made a point not to overstay his welcome. But he was careful—always careful—to speak to Hazelle directly, to meet her eyes, to listen when she spoke.

When she mentioned her late husband, he bowed his head respectfully and didn’t pry. When she joked about how Burdock never learned to split logs properly, Coriolanus laughed along, as if the image of her son’s clumsy work amused him.

And always—always—he paid attention to the details.

He noted when their roof leaked. He noted when their flour was nearly gone. He listened when Hazelle spoke of her daughter’s stubbornness, her sharp tongue, her tendency to disappear into the woods for hours.

He tucked it all away like pieces in a puzzle he was beginning to see clearly.

Not out of malice.

At least, not openly.

Coriolanus told himself this was strategy. Necessary scaffolding. If Hazelle trusted him, if she thought of him as kind, generous, different from the others—it would be easier when the time came.

Easier to draw her daughter in.

Because kindness, he’d learned, was often the best leash.

And he intended to keep the Everdeens exactly where he wanted them—warm, fed, and inch by inch… dependent.

It was during one of his “inspections” that Coriolanus began to cross lines.

His eyes lingered on the cracks in the walls, the old, rusting stove that sputtered when it wasn’t being tended to, the way the floorboards creaked underfoot. He noted every detail—anomalies, signs of neglect—and made mental notes to ensure that Hazelle wouldn’t be able to dismiss them later.

But that wasn’t all.

One afternoon, after a particularly cold morning that had left Hazelle in a long, tired fit of coughing, he knocked on the door with the same pleasantries, the same tight smile. He had come, as always, under the guise of goodwill—bearing medicine, a few extra rations. But today, his visit wasn’t just to check on their health.

“I was just making sure everything’s in order,” he explained casually when Hazelle opened the door, the same practiced gentleness in his voice.

She frowned, slightly puzzled. “Everything’s fine, Coriolanus.”

“Just a standard procedure,” he insisted, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation, like he belonged. “It’s my duty to ensure the district is… well, functioning properly.”

She raised an eyebrow, and he caught the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. She wasn’t fully convinced, but neither was she opposed. Hazelle had learned to pick her battles, and this was a small one in her mind.

“I’m not sure it’s necessary,” she said, but she let him in anyway, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. “The place is a bit of a mess, though. I’m just trying to keep things together.”

“I understand,” he said smoothly, walking past her and toward the back room with the kitchen and the small hallway that led to the bedrooms. “I’ll try not to take up too much of your time. Just a quick look around.”

Hazelle nodded, still unsure but not wanting to seem ungrateful. She was a mother, and mothering was never simple—especially when survival was in question.

Coriolanus moved through the house with careful steps, feigning the air of a man simply trying to be thorough in his duties. He ran his fingers along the walls as if he were checking for mildew, though he had already seen the state of the rooms a dozen times before, noting which spots were particularly neglected, which places seemed to hold more attention than others.

But his interest wasn’t on the structure. It wasn’t even on the food or the firewood he’d already provided.

It was on her daughter’s room.

He had seen it before, of course, when he’d delivered the ration baskets or medicine. But this time, the door was closed. The walls were lined with books, the air smelling faintly of dried flowers and old paper. This time, he didn’t ask permission to enter.

The door creaked when he nudged it open.

His eyes scanned quickly—fingers twitching at the sight of a journal, the corner of a notebook peeking out from the bed’s thin quilt. He saw the books she kept, the tattered edges of pages she’d read and reread in her solitude.

His eyes didn’t linger there, though. They focused on the small drawer tucked underneath the desk.

He slid the drawer open slowly, his fingers brushing against something soft. Her undergarments—folded neatly, as if by her mother, but unmistakably hers.

He bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a smirk. It wasn’t the undergarments that held his attention, but the silent reminder that he could, at any time, invade. That she was vulnerable in ways she didn’t yet realize.

As he turned back to the desk, his eyes found the journal. The leather binding was worn from use, the pages filling with words that weren’t meant for anyone else’s eyes.

It was easy. Too easy.

He slid the journal out, holding it in one hand, inspecting the worn corners. He was careful, moving it between his fingers with delicate precision as he flipped it open to a random page. It was the same as everything else—fragile, small, and filled with the secrets of a life he didn’t know yet but was desperate to understand.

“It was never supposed to be this way,” he read silently. “The Peacekeepers will burn everything. They’ll take everything from us, and there will be nothing left. There’s nothing to stop them.”

His stomach clenched, but he didn’t let it show.

This was the truth. This was the essence of her world—of the world he was threading himself into with every calculated move.

He read for a few more moments before shutting the book softly, placing it back where it belonged. But the taste of the words lingered in his mind, and he kept them locked away.

The entire inspection had taken only minutes. But to Coriolanus, it felt like hours.

By the time he returned downstairs, Hazelle was standing by the fire, her face glowing in the amber light as she wiped her hands on her apron. She gave him an expectant look, but he only offered a polite smile.

“It seems you’re doing well here,” he said, masking the sharpness in his tone. “A few small issues here and there, but nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Hazelle smiled at him, too trusting, too eager to please. “Thank you, Coriolanus. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on her for just a moment too long.

“We’ll keep it quiet for now,” he said, his voice almost conspiratorial. “But I’ll be back soon to check on things again. For your own good.”

“Of course,” she said, never questioning, never doubting. “Thank you. You’ve been a real help to us.”

He left the Everdeen home shortly after that, the day’s quiet events hanging in the air like smoke, thick and choking. Outside, the chill had settled in, but his mind was focused on the cracks in the walls, the corners of the home, the hidden places he knew so well now.

It wasn’t long before he’d wear down their resistance completely.

The following afternoon was quiet. The air was dry, crisp, and the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the landscape of District 12. Coriolanus had completed his routine patrols, his eyes always searching for the smallest hint of disobedience. His mind was preoccupied with plans—plans to secure his position, to tighten his hold on this district, on her.

He wasn’t expecting her.

It was by pure chance that he wandered out of the district’s borders that day. There was a narrow path behind the mine, a route he’d come to know well over the past few weeks. He had no reason to be there, no official inspection, but it was a part of his ever-expanding territory.

That’s when he saw her.

In the middle of the field, under the watchful eye of a fading sun, Y/N sat on the ground, a basket in her lap. She was hunched slightly, her eyes focused on the small creatures around her, moving softly, carefully. It was like a secret little world, tucked away from the rest of the district—a world where rabbits and wild animals could find solace in the quiet space she had claimed.

Her dark hair was loose, falling in waves down her back, slightly curling from the moisture of the morning rain. She didn’t hear him approach. The sound of the soft breeze and the rustling leaves masked the light crunch of his boots against the ground. It wasn’t until he was just behind her, standing near the edge of the tree line, that she turned, startled.

Her face shifted immediately, from calm neutrality to surprise. Her eyes, wide with sudden recognition, narrowed as she saw him. The change was instant. She didn’t have to say a word for him to know her thoughts. It was in the way her posture stiffened, the slight, almost imperceptible clenching of her jaw.

“Coriolanus,” she said, her voice low—almost forced, like she was willing herself not to show more disdain than she already had.

He stood a few feet away, smiling with the sort of half-amused arrogance that had become second nature to him. The breeze fluttered his uniform, and he stepped forward, his eyes never leaving her face. “What a charming little haven you’ve created out here, Y/N.”

She didn’t respond immediately, though her eyes flicked to the rabbits, the animals that had become her companions in this lonely stretch of land. Her eyes softened for just a second, but then they snapped back to him, her expression hardening.

“I didn’t think you’d be out here,” she remarked coolly, standing up, brushing the dirt from her skirt. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Coriolanus chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving her. He knew what she was trying to do—trying to push him away with coldness, but he had learned by now that she was more fragile than she let on. “I always find time for the most interesting people,” he replied smoothly, walking closer.

She stepped back instinctively, her hand brushing against the basket of food she had been offering the rabbits. Her eyes darted between him and the small creatures, clearly wanting to retreat into her quiet sanctuary, but Coriolanus wasn’t ready to let her hide just yet.

He was too close now.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice lower, as though a more intimate conversation were unfolding. “It’s dangerous to be alone out here, don’t you think?”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, taking a step back toward the basket of food, but Coriolanus moved before she could get away. He caught her wrist with an almost casual grip, his fingers tightening just enough to draw her attention. She blinked, startled by the suddenness of the action, but he didn’t give her a chance to react.

With a single, controlled motion, he stepped closer, pushing her lightly against the rough trunk of a nearby tree. Her back hit the bark with a soft thud, and she froze, her breath hitching in surprise.

She blinked, eyes wide now, not expecting the physicality from him, and for a split second, she seemed… vulnerable. It was a rare glimpse into her world, one where she wasn’t in control, one where she wasn’t the fierce, self-assured woman he had come to know.

“I thought,” he began, his voice low and teasing, “that you didn’t want to see me. Yet here we are, alone. Again.”

Her breath was steady, but her heart raced. Her eyes flicked to the ground, and she tugged lightly against his grip, trying to pull away from the tree, but his body was pressed so close now, a barrier between her and escape.

“I don’t want you here,” she said with a defiant edge, but the words felt more like a defense than a statement of truth. She couldn’t deny the tension between them. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t feeling it.

Coriolanus tilted his head, amused. “You don’t get to make that decision, Y/N.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, she didn’t say anything. She only stared at him, her pulse quickening under the weight of his gaze.

He didn’t let go of her wrist, though his grip loosened slightly, enough to allow her to move if she truly wanted to. He wasn’t worried. He knew she wouldn’t run. Not now.

“I’m just trying to get to know you better,” he added softly, as though there were nothing sinister about his presence. “It’s not a crime to enjoy each other’s company, is it?”

Y/N’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and confusion, but there was a brief, flickering hesitation in her eyes—a conflict he could almost taste. It made her that much more fascinating. She didn’t want him there, didn’t want to admit that he had this hold over her, but the longer he stayed, the harder it would be for her to resist.

With a small, almost invisible sigh, Coriolanus finally let go of her wrist, taking a small step back, though his eyes remained fixed on hers. He smirked, enjoying the quiet tension that lingered between them, the way she refused to back down, even though he knew she was close to breaking.

“I’ll be seeing you around, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice a low murmur that only added to the weight of the moment.

He turned and left, his boots crunching against the dry earth as he walked away.

But as he disappeared from her sight, a lingering feeling settled in the pit of Y/N’s stomach. It wasn’t just the memory of his touch, or the way his presence had thrown her off balance. It was the realization that Coriolanus Snow wasn’t the kind of man to let anything—or anyone—go easily.

[theother456-stories]

Billy wasn’t famous. Not yet.

At 403 followers, he was just another guy trying weird stunts to get noticed online. So he made a promise — ridiculous, impossible, but catchy enough to go viral:

“For every new follower, I gain one pound. I’m hooked up to a machine. This is real. Follow me and feed me.”

The camera panned to the sleek, humming device strapped around his waist — a nutrient-delivery system feeding a calorie-dense formula directly into his stomach. Every time someone hit “Follow,” it pumped one pound’s worth into him.

He grinned into the camera.

WEIGHT: 212 lbs | FOLLOWERS: 403

“Let’s see what happens.”

At first, it was a joke. A few dozen new followers trickled in. The machine clicked, his belly swelled, and he laughed it off.

But by the hour mark, the number had passed 1,000.

Then it exploded.

Weight: 1,500 lbs | Followers: 1,500

His shirt shredded. His belly piled into his lap like rising dough. He struggled to sit up straight.

“Whoa—okay, this is getting out of hand,” he chuckled, cheeks puffier already.

The comments started flooding in.

“I can’t stop watching him grow.”

“This is hot, I don’t care what anyone says.”

“Make him a mountain.”

Weight: 3,000 lbs | Followers: 3,000

He was now too heavy to stand. His body spread outward in every direction, wobbling with each mechanical hum. His limbs sank deep into his own girth. He could only wiggle his fingers.

“He’s so big already and it’s only been a few hours.”

“Filling out the whole room like a balloon. YES.”

“More. MORE.”

Weight: 6,000 lbs | Followers: 6,000

His entire living room was packed with him. Fat billowed out like a tidal wave across the floor. His head was nestled in a ring of chins, nearly motionless. He wheezed and giggled, completely overwhelmed, flushed with heat and adrenaline.

“He looks amazing.”

“So soft and massive.”

“My heart is racing watching this.”

Weight: 10,000 lbs | Followers: 10,000

The machine no longer clicked — it roared. Nonstop flow. Constant growth. His apartment walls strained around him. His weight pressed into the walls, the furniture, the very structure.

He was giddy, drunk on it. “I c-can’t even—” he stammered, voice muffled by his own chest. “This is insane…”

Weight: 15,000 lbs | Followers: 15,000

The floor gave out. He plunged into the unit below in an avalanche of pure flesh, flattening furniture with a wet, seismic thud. He filled the entire lower level, his gut pressing up against windows, his back rising toward the ceiling again.

“He’s a living building.”

“This is making me lightheaded.”

“I want to climb him.”

Weight: 20,000 lbs | Followers: 20,000

Emergency services tried to intervene. They couldn’t even get through the door. He was blocking every entrance, every hallway. Cameras on drones had to be brought in to keep the stream going. He smiled faintly, eyes barely visible between thick, pillowy cheeks.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

“He’s not a man anymore — he’s a god.”

“I’m shaking. Keep going.”

Weight: 30,000 lbs | Followers: 30,000

By now, Billy had become a continent of flesh. They had to knock out walls to relieve the pressure. His growth stretched down the street. His belly alone spanned multiple rooms. His breathing was slow, rumbling like a furnace. Still, he was conscious, eyes fluttering as every pound added more weight, more softness, more him.

“He’s beyond human.”

“This is doing things to me I don’t understand.”

“I never want this to stop.”

Weight: 40,000 lbs | Followers: 40,000

Billy’s mass consumed most of the city block. Scaffolding was built around him to support his growing sides. The machine, now housed in a reinforced chamber, kept pumping without pause.

His voice was a low, warm rumble. “I feel… heavy,” he whispered, half-lost in his own body, buried in bliss.

“He’s beautiful.”

“This is the most exciting thing I’ve ever watched.”

“50K or bust. Literally.”

Weight: 50,000 lbs | Followers: 50,000

At this point, Billy was a legend. A landscape. An ever-expanding mass of soft, plush flesh that seemed to pulse with life. He filled streets, wrapped around buildings, and still… kept growing.

A giant digital counter ticked upward, pinned above the stream:

WEIGHT: 50,000 lbs | FOLLOWERS: 50,000

Buried in the center of it all, Billy could just barely be heard through a deep, body-shaking microphone.

“Thank you… all of you… I’ve never felt so full.”

The comments kept scrolling.

“He’s perfect.”

“He needs to get bigger.”

“100K is next. Feed him more.”

And the machine whirred quietly on.

[physalian]

11 Underexplored settings of post-apocalyptic worlds

Inspired once again by my recent binge of abandoned explorations.

The greatest hits of the sprawling city scapes and farmland that feature in everything from post-alien invasions to zombie takeovers to just worlds gone by in a not-so-distant future tend to be:

Generic office buildings

Churches

Schools

Water parks

Suburbs

Famous monuments

Cruise ships

It’s come to my attention though just how many architectural abnormalities there are, in their own current post-apocalyptic states, that would absolutely befuddle archaeologists centuries from now trying to figure out their purposes.

So whether you want to go hard into “this new world has completely forgotten what came before it” or your very own and unique road trip through desolation, here’s some suggestions for cool and/or practical settings!

1. Disney/Iconic Theme Parks

2000 years from now after X disaster strikes, survivors completely removed from historical context stumble upon…. Disney World. They presume Mickey really was a giant mutant mouse, or a mouse-shaped deity worshiped by the local populace (and I mean… are they wrong?). People who might have never left the local area without planes and feasible transport, or knowledge that land across the ocean even exists, might be astounded by the buildings of Epcot’s World Showcase, or any of Disney’s themed resorts.

Water parks are done to death, but not enough emphasis is put onto how bizarre these places would look without context, even to a younger generation that has no idea what it used to be.

Orlando has a hotel with its own rainforest in a massive atrium, with ponds and boats and boardwalks inside. But, you know, I guess strolling through Chicago or New York City is cooler. It may be unfilmable, but it’s not unwritable.

2. The foundations of unfinished construction projects

The remains of an office building that never was, a veritable modern Stonehenge with how little would survive an apocalypse. Inexplicable areas of land with massive pits for unbuilt parking garages, or sprawling swimming pools and lazy rivers.

Or massive, skeletal towers that would have been the monument to a much larger estate that just lost funding. Buildings still surrounded by scaffolding, only half-complete with their windows.

3. Survivor’s encampment landmarked by a monument/hotel/theme park that was never built

In one of those abandoned videos, a company in China was trying to build a discount Disneyland and all that remains is an unfinished Cinderella Castle with steel shells of the gables… behind a modern shopping mall.

Any structure that would have been deeply out of place either in the country it’s built in, or the newer buildings that surround it, immediately looks more creative than just ‘generic strip mall’ or ‘generic high school’. And it’s also realistic, as projects like this fall through constantly, as a unique piece of your worldbuilding. Or, it did have its run as whatever the strange building was part of, and through bankruptcy and selling the land around it, it ends up being the only structure that remains.

4. Hotels that are made up as if the staff vanished instantaneously

Or, many, many Covid victims. Having your characters scrounge for resources through a hotel with beds still made, coffee cups on the breakfast tables, serving spoons and plates ready to go by the buffet. Halloween, Christmas, or Valentine’s decorations still on display.

The schedules for the final week of business still hanging in the offices, unopened mail, packages for guests still in the mail room, pallets of new soaps and supplies still in the delivery bay from the distribution center, linens still in the industrial dryers. I worked in a hotel scheduled for eventual demolition and the disrepair the interior fell into because, what’s the point of managing mold and bed bugs when it’s all getting gutted anyway, makes it super creepy knowing guests are completely clueless on the other side.

Places that have been completely ransacked and destroyed are creepy, sure, but places that are almost frozen in time despite the decay around them are both eerie, and rather dark. Cruise ships/confined spaces like ships tend to be used more for horror, but these, too, as if they’re frozen in time.

5. Cargo ships/shipping yards

An easy-ish one to film in. Looters breaking open shipping containers, or building entire communities and homes out of those containers either on land, or on the barges and ships. A community that can weigh anchor and move once resources and scavenging dries up, or another violent group moves in on the land.

Or, in the case of a viral apocalypse, a community relatively spared from the violence out on the open ocean.

6. IKEA/Furniture Warehouses and DC’s

Warehouses especially have few entries and fewer windows to secure, but as their contents (except the showroom floor) are in mint condition at the time of the world ending and probably stored in plastic and crates, they’d be relatively spared from the elements as a good base camp.

Furniture is also too heavy to loot in a panic and absconding with a brand new mattress probably wouldn’t be at the top of people’s minds as doomsday approaches.

Your little community each having their own lavish living spaces with whatever eclectic furniture they either liked or could now get their hands on for free would just be cool to read about.

7. Penthouse suites

Climbing those stairs would suck and depending on the build quality, the safety of the structure over time would degrade, but maybe your community has manual cranks for the elevators. There might be one way down, but there’s also only one way up, and you can see invaders and catastrophe coming for miles.

These places tend to be dripping in luxury your characters might otherwise have never experienced and they could either make a base there, or have a grand old time trashing the place up because the rich are dead and gone.

8. Historical forts

They lasted this long, why not a few centuries more? The fort that comes to mind is the Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine, Florida, right on the beach with a built-in defense wall and a huge courtyard for your community of plucky survivors.

Castles, too, though they’d likely be prime real estate for all manner of interested parties. Aging, famous forts are just never in these types of stories, unless it’s a picture of where the military used to be, now overrun or destroyed.

9. Ski resorts

Similar to the made-up hotels and theme parks, this one comes with presumably multiple buildings, potential use of the slopes and ski transports, isolation via elevation and remoteness from major cities, and the threat of bitter winters and blizzards.

Never been to one myself in winter, but remote locations for a post-apocalypse story tends to just be shorthand for “generic farm or small town,” which isn’t super immersive.

10. Luxury malls

Seen in The Last of US, it gives you a microcosm of so many different environments all slapped together and there’s no limit on what kinds of stores you could include, or all the kiosks, all the mini attractions like trampolines, kiddie parks, massage tables, and even VR flight simulators.

Maybe it has a theater tacked onto it, or a double-story book store, one of those rental spaces dedicated to fancy cars or candy stores. Great for the main setting or even just passing through, especially as they’re already a dying breed you can go ham with. ‘Luxury’ and designer items collecting dust right across from the discount store with everything for under &14.99 could strike a powerful message about social constructs.

11. Science museums

Sure you can make some poignant message about priceless artwork being left to rot, or. When I was a kid, I went to a science center with natural disaster simulators like house fires and tornadoes and a whole-ass IMAX theater where I saw Night at the Museum, the only movie I’ve ever seen in a proper IMAX dome.

There was a whole kids section with a ropes course, area for exploring the human body, a NASA-sponsored mock up space module, mock up grocery store, and little exhibits here and there about optical illusions and the physics behind laying on a bed of nails and how it doesn’t kill you. It’s just something unique and fun that your characters can interact with and gives them plenty to play off and give little anecdotes to make them feel more human.

—

Point is, your post-apocalypse doesn’t have to be limited to the usual suspects. We’ve all seen the strip malls and Walmarts and suburban homes and farms. There is no special effects budget or filming restraint in a book and I’d love to read more stories set in unique and descriptive places, or just fresh takes on your standard survival camp that isn’t just “build a wall around a section of neighborhood”.

It’s the apocalypse. All real estate becomes free real estate.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Chemists create world's thinnest spaghetti

The world's thinnest spaghetti, about 200 times thinner than a human hair, has been created by a UCL-led research team. The spaghetti is not intended to be a new food but was created because of the wide-ranging uses that extremely thin strands of material, called nanofibers, have in medicine and industry. Nanofibers made of starch—produced by most green plants to store excess glucose—are especially promising and could be used in bandages to aid wound healing (as the nanofiber mats are highly porous, allowing water and moisture in but keeping bacteria out), as scaffolding for bone regeneration and for drug delivery. However, they rely on starch being extracted from plant cells and purified, a process requiring much energy and water. A more environmentally friendly method, the researchers say, is to create nanofibers directly from a starch-rich ingredient like flour, which is the basis for pasta.

Read more.

[reomikagekin]

Helloo

Can I request some alnst characters (you can choose who!) with a gn reader that's going against them but instead of worrying about death, their goal is to make the best performance ever possible, whether they win or not? Also maybe extra detail that they reader (intentionally or not) steals some of their lines? idk

Echoes of a Perfect Stage

(feat. Hyunwoo, Jacob, Isaac, and Hyuna x GN!Reader)

(imagine hyunwoo and jacob js took part for the sake of this)

Hyunwoo – “Was That My Line?”

The lights above buzzed faintly, casting a soft glow over the makeshift stage. Hyunwoo leaned against the metal frame of a scaffold, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you.

You were rehearsing the scene for the next rebellion performance — a message meant to reach those still trapped in Anakt Garden. And you were all in. Eyes blazing, voice steady, body radiating focus. Not fear, not even hope.

Just passion.

Hyunwoo tilted his head when your voice dipped into a hushed line. “We shine even when they try to smother the light.”

His eyes widened slightly. That was mine, he thought — a quiet piece he’d muttered in last week’s rehearsal, never written down. You’d heard it. You remembered it. And now, it was in your voice.

He walked over, grinning.

“You know, it’s rude to steal someone’s thunder,” he said, casual as ever, but with a glint of teasing in his eyes.

You barely turned. “It fit. I’m not here to win or outshine — I’m here to make them remember.”

Hyunwoo’s grin softened. “You’re not afraid of dying out there, huh?”

“No.” You looked at him now. “But I’m terrified of leaving behind a forgettable song.”

He paused. Then chuckled, low and warm. “Well, I can’t even be mad. You made it sound good. Maybe too good.”

You smiled back. “Then catch up.”

Hyunwoo walked past you, voice over his shoulder. “I’ll take that as a challenge. Just don’t be surprised if I steal a few lines back.”

Jacob – “Your Voice, My Words”

The resistance base hummed quietly at night. Most were resting. But not you.

You stood in the dim rehearsal corner, going over a spoken verse. The melody behind it was soft, ghost-like. You repeated the line, over and over: “Even in silence, I hear the world scream.”

Jacob stepped in from the hallway. “That line... I wrote that in a draft no one saw.”

You turned, blinking. “Really?”

Jacob nodded, eyes thoughtful, not angry. Just… curious.

You shifted awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to steal it. I think I overheard you humming it? It stuck.”

He walked toward you, slow and quiet. “No, I’m not mad. If anything, I’m glad someone saw the value in it.”

You relaxed slightly. “I didn’t think about who it belonged to. I just wanted the moment to be… perfect. Not for me. For them—the kids watching. The ones still trapped.”

Jacob looked at you, heart catching at the sincerity in your eyes. “You speak like someone ready to burn out beautifully.”

“If it makes a spark, it’s worth it.”

There was a silence between you, but not a heavy one.

Then Jacob smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Let’s make that spark together.”

Isaac – “You Got Nerve”

The sound of clapping echoed sharply as you stepped off stage.

Isaac was there, arms folded, that cocky grin of his in full effect. “Nice delivery, hotshot. Very me.”

You blinked. “...What?”

“That line you dropped—‘Guess I’ll smile while dancing through the crossfire.’ I came up with that last week. Even had the rhythm down.”

You raised your hands. “Okay, guilty. It was too good not to use.”

Isaac stepped closer, his teasing tone suddenly layered with something heavier. “You do realize this isn’t a show for clout, right?”

“I do.” You looked him dead in the eye. “I’m not here to win. I’m here to give the best performance possible. If I die tomorrow, I want this stage to remember I was alive. That I felt everything.”

Isaac’s smirk faltered just a little. Something in your words struck deeper than you knew.

He scoffed, softer this time. “You’ve got nerve. I like that. But next time? Gimme a heads-up before you borrow my best material.”

You grinned. “Or what? You’ll outshine me?”

Isaac flashed his usual grin. “Damn right I will.”

But his hand on your shoulder lingered longer than expected — grounding, unspoken.

“Don’t burn too bright alone,” he muttered before walking off.

Hyuna – “You’re Not Scared, Are You?”

You and Hyuna circled each other like dancers in a storm — the air around the stage crackling with adrenaline. The rehearsal had been intense. Emotions high. And your delivery? Unshakable.

Until you said her line.

“If this is the end, I want the stars to remember my name.”

Hyuna froze. She’d only said that once. Alone. In a moment she thought no one had heard.

You looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” she said immediately, striding over, boots hitting the metal floor with weight. “You said it better than I did. I’m just surprised you caught it.”

“I’m not trying to one-up you,” you said. “I’m just trying to… honor it. All of it. The pain. The fight. The past.”

Hyuna stared at you for a long moment.

Then she smiled — bright, painful, real. And pulled you into a crushing hug. “You’re not scared, are you?”

“No,” you whispered into her shoulder. “I’m not.”

She pulled back, eyes shining just a bit too much. “Good. Because people like us don’t get to be scared. We get to perform, and hope it echoes.”

“And if I go out there and die?”

Hyuna grinned, wiping under her eye before any tears could fall. “Then I’ll steal your lines next time.”

[wandringaesthetic]

Much has been made, online, of a scene in Megalopolis where Adam Driver gives a kind of weird delivery of the line "go back to the club" and, in context, I did not think it strange at all. Because, among other things, there is a scene previous to this where Adam Driver delivers most of the Hamlet Soliloquy on a bit of scaffolding over a giant model of the city while surrounded by reporters and government officials. This is somehow part of an argument with the mayor and a news anchor named Wow Platinum.

So what I'm saying is that it didn't rank among the top 50 wildest things in that movie and may not rank among the top 50 wildest things in that movie up until that point (IIRC about 20-30 minutes into the film)

[taekookpassion]

My Horny Boyfriend - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - He Marked Him

*Hai loves.. hope you are well and good... Let's continue the chapter dears*

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

...I'm dating the hottest disaster in town... ...He's the filthiest, sexiest idiot I've ever fallen in love with.

And hell... he is his idiot.

Jungkook dashed toward the bathroom, his muscular back flexing with each hurried step, curses flying under his breath as he turned the broken tap handle with one hand and shoved his face into the cold stream of water. Tae chuckled behind him, still sprawled on the floor, thighs sticky and used, but eyes full of mischief and affection.

"Don't forget your lunch box today, you little disaster," Tae called out, teasing.

Jungkook peeked out the bathroom door with a grin, droplets cascading down his temple, "Only if you feed me something tonight that's not just your pu—"

"Shut up!" Tae threw the nearest item at him — a half-folded sock — hitting Jungkook square on the cheek. Both burst out laughing.

Taehyung sighed as he collapsed onto the threadbare quilt, the mattress springs creaking beneath him like an old man's knees. The room smelled faintly of sex and cheap detergent, and the single fan on the ceiling barely turned, swaying like it might fall any second. A cockroach darted across the floor, undisturbed. His thighs were still sticky from the quickie Jungkook had initiated—wild, rushed, full of hungry grunts and muffled moans.

Their entire world was crammed into this one-room rental—the cracked mirror leaning against the wall, laundry piled in a sad plastic basket, ramen packets crushed into a corner. The window didn't close properly, the curtains were made from an old t-shirt Jungkook had once loved and couldn't bear to throw away. Still, Taehyung's lips curled into a blissful smile.

Because even in this wreckage of a life, Jungkook's love burned like fire.

"Stop drooling, babe. I can feel your eyes frying my abs," Jungkook muttered, yanking up his ripped jeans without boxers—because, of course, laundry day never came when it should.

"You brought this on yourself, baby," Taehyung purred, stretching out like a satisfied cat. His collarbones jutted sharp under skin that had seen too much sun. "Next time, maybe don't pound into me before the sun's even up."

Jungkook turned with that crooked grin, hair a wild mess, face flushed and damp. There was sawdust in his lashes, a smudge of motor oil still under one nail. "I'll make it up to you tonight."

"You better. I want chocolate ice cream. And that almond lube. Not the knock-off one that smells like cough syrup."

Jungkook laughed, voice raspy, throat dry. "Deal."

He slung his worn backpack over his shoulder—stitched more times than either of them could count—and scanned the cluttered room like he was memorizing it one last time before war. A broken sandal, one cracked phone blinking red at 3%, last night's half-eaten convenience store sandwich still in the wrapper.

Before heading out, Jungkook leaned down and pressed a kiss to Taehyung's temple. A soft touch in a world that had never been gentle to them.

"I'll be working late. Minho-hyung's kid is sick, so I'm covering for him."

Taehyung sat up, brushing hair out of his face. "Be careful, Koo. That bruise on your back didn't look good. Don't let them put you on the scaffold again."

Jungkook gave him a look—half smile, half promise. "I'll be fine. Just a few more months. We'll get out of this rat box."

As he left, then rushed back in two seconds later to grab his tattered cap, Taehyung whispered, "You already make it feel like home."

An hour later, Taehyung was on his delivery route, his work uniform just a size too tight from being handed down. His e-bike's brakes squealed like a dying bird, but it still rolled—barely. Sweat clung to his spine as he balanced three orders on the back and zipped through alleys, dodging potholes like a pro.

One of the deliveries took him to a construction site on the edge of town—concrete dust thick in the air, metal clanging, workers yelling. His chest tightened in anticipation.

He knew this site.

His fingers tightened around the food bag as he walked through the entrance, past wolf whistles and lingering stares.

"Damn, who's that beauty?" one of the workers muttered, elbowing the guy next to him.

"Someone's dream in that tight uniform," a worker muttered under his breath, licking his lips as Taehyung approached.

Another one, lazing on a stack of bricks, smirked and tilted his hard hat up. "You delivering food or breaking hearts, sweetheart?"

Taehyung didn't respond. He balanced the food bags with practiced ease, his hips swaying slightly in those snug navy delivery pants, thighs flexing with every step. Sweat clung to his honey skin, glinting under the sun, trickling from the base of his neck down the dip of his collarbone.

As he reached the brick wall where the men were gathered, he calmly placed their lunch orders down one by one, not saying a word. His lashes lowered, but his mouth curled—just a little.

"C'mon, don't be shy," the boldest one added with a grin. "Give us a smile and a little spin. We might even tip you nice."

Taehyung's eyes snapped up, sharp and venomous, and the air stilled.

He leaned in just enough to make them blink—dangerously close—then spoke in a voice like chilled steel. "You couldn't afford me. Even if you sold your dicks for scrap."

The bold one sputtered, taken aback, as the others laughed uncomfortably.

But Taehyung had already turned. Not sparing another glance, he swayed past them with pride carved into every step.

Because he could feel it. That gaze.

Burning from across the site like wildfire.

Jungkook.

He stood frozen by the scaffold poles, hammer gripped in one hand, jaw clenched so tight it ticked with rage. His biceps bulged, veins snaking over the sweat-slick muscles of his arms and shoulders like they might burst. The sight of those men ogling his Taehyung had his blood boiling, the jealous heat climbing up his throat.

Taehyung's eyes sparkled when they met his.

And right then—crack.

The brick in Jungkook's hand split in two like it was nothing.

"Holy shit, Koo—what the hell—" one of the workers muttered behind him.

But Jungkook didn't hear. Or didn't care.

He dropped the broken chunk and stormed forward, eyes locked on Taehyung like a man possessed.

The workers fell quiet.

Taehyung waited, arms folding loosely across his chest, eyes daring him closer with that smug, sultry glint only Jungkook ever earned.

And then—Jungkook reached him.

He yanked him in by the waist, not gently, and slammed their mouths together in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. Tongues clashed immediately, wet and messy, spit slicking the corners of their mouths. It wasn't romantic. It was a fucking claim.

Taehyung moaned into it, one hand fisting into Jungkook's sweat-drenched shirt, the other cupping his nape.

Gasps echoed behind them. Some men looked away. Others watched, mouths open.

But Jungkook didn't stop.

He devoured him.

One strong arm wrapped around Taehyung's lower back, dragging him flush against his sweat-slicked body, muscles still trembling with leftover rage. His other hand tangled into Taehyung's messy hair, yanking his head back just enough to bare that delicate throat, veins fluttering beneath the skin.

"Mine," Jungkook growled, before smashing their mouths together like he was starved.

The first clash of lips was brutal—teeth clicking, lips bruising, their mouths parting instantly, instinctively. Taehyung gasped, only for Jungkook to shove his tongue in deep, claiming every inch of his mouth without hesitation. His tongue pushed past Taehyung's, flicking and curling, hot and desperate, saliva slicking their chins.

Taehyung moaned into it, body arching into the hardness pressing against his stomach, arms flailing for a second before he gripped Jungkook's biceps—fingers sinking into the swollen flesh.

It wasn't a kiss. It was war.

Messy, wet, obscene.

Jungkook sucked on Taehyung's bottom lip with a loud, lewd pop, only to dive back in. He licked into the corners of his mouth, lapped at his tongue like it belonged to him—and it did. He tilted his head the other way, deepening the kiss further, until there was no air left between them. Just spit. Heat. Groans swallowed whole.

Taehyung whimpered when Jungkook's teeth grazed his tongue. "Fuck, Koo—"

But Jungkook just bit down gently on his lip, tugged, then sucked it back in with a sound so filthy it made grown men look away.

A string of spit snapped between them when Jungkook finally pulled back, panting, lips swollen and slick.

Taehyung's pupils were blown wide. His lips looked wrecked, glistening, slightly open like he was still tasting Jungkook on them.

"Still hungry?" he breathed, voice cracked and raspy.

Jungkook licked his lips, slow and sinful, not even sparing the gawking workers a glance. His hand slid up Taehyung's back, possessive, lingering.

"I should fuck your throat right here. Let them hear what mine sounds like."

Taehyung shivered, knees weakening. "Later," he whispered. "At home."

"Not if you keep letting assholes breathe near you."

Taehyung smirked, stepping closer, pressing their foreheads together.

"Then don't give me a reason to make you jealous."

Jungkook chuckled darkly, thumb swiping a trail of spit from Taehyung's cheek. "Too late, baby. You're gonna pay for that."

And every man on that construction site?

Absolutely knew.

No one would ever dare look at Taehyung the same again.

Because Jungkook didn't just kiss him.

He marked him.

*****

To be continued

[michelada12]

Back at it again with the indierpg games 😉

Stares Back by StephenW313.

Game about a teacher that develops an interest in astrology.

It’s Snowing by pikkyrat games.

Game where you get to enjoy a snowy day.

Creature in the Corner by HeadLocker

Game where you get to enjoy some burgers with a creature that likes looking at you.

An Airport for Aliens Currently Run by Dogs by Strange Scaffold.

Very realistic airport simulator. Get to befriend a bunch of doggos.

Home Safety Hotline by Night Signal Entertainment.

Game where you get to provide quality customer service by protecting homes from pest & hazards.

Go! Go! Hamster Chef! by Matt Henry, MetaArcade, Fridgecrisis, Liam Higley & Ed Johnson.

A cute game where you help a hamster kickstart a food delivery service.

Beary the Hatchet by Team Cetacity.

Help a serial killer work their 9 to 5 job at a gas station. Be careful with them true crime fans.

Tentador Leches by Karmic Punishment.

Get to know your new milk man in this completely innocent visual novel.

[ai-botz]

You:

explain crispr mRNA

Ai:

CRISPR RNA (crRNA) is a sophisticated, programmable molecular tool that leverages the prokaryotic adaptive immune system's mechanism of defense against invasive genetic elements. This RNA-based component serves as a guide to direct the Cas9 nuclease enzyme toward specific genomic loci for targeted editing.

The crRNA structure consists of three distinct regions: the scaffold, the repeat sequence, and the protospacer. The scaffold provides structural support and facilitates binding with the Cas9 protein, while the repeat segment is derived from the CRISPR array in the bacterial genome and promotes crRNA-Cas9 complex formation.

The protospacer region, which constitutes the majority of the crRNA sequence, harbors the desired target specificity information. It possesses a complementarity to a predefined genomic sequence (the target site), thereby enabling the crRNA-guided Cas9 endonuclease to recognize and cleave the target DNA at the precise location.

crRNA synthesis typically involves in vitro transcription from a DNA template or ribosomal RNA processing in vivo. The resulting mature crRNAs are then processed into their functional forms through 5' and 3' trimming, which removes non-essential regions and generates a single-stranded structure that can base-pair with the target site.

Upon binding to Cas9, the crRNA acts as an adaptor, positioning the nuclease at its cognate genomic location. Upon encountering the target sequence, the Cas9-crRNA complex excises the DNA, creating a double-strand break (DSB). The DSB can then be repaired by the cell's endogenous pathways, which may result in precise gene editing via homology-directed repair (HDR) or introduce insertions/deletions (indels) through non-homologous end joining (NHEJ), effectively creating a mutation at the targeted site.

The programmable nature of crRNAs allows researchers to tailor them for specific applications, including gene knockouts, point mutations, and even precise base editing. Moreover, advances in RNA engineering have enabled the development of complex crRNA designs capable of targeting multiple genomic loci simultaneously or recognizing non-canonical target sites.

In summary, CRISPR RNA is a highly specialized, versatile molecular tool that empowers scientists to precisely manipulate genomes through its intricate interactions with Cas proteins and cellular repair machinery. Its unique properties have revolutionized the field of genome engineering, offering unprecedented control over genetic information.

You:

explain how a virus can be used as an mRNA encapsulate to deliver crisper RNA

Ai:

Viruses, particularly those in the families Lentiviridae (e.g., HIV-1), Adenoviridae (e.g., adenovirus serotype 5), and AAVidiae (adeno-associated viruses), can be engineered to function as mRNA encapsulation vectors for CRISPR RNA delivery.

The process typically involves:

Cloning the desired crRNA sequence into an expression plasmid, which is then transfected into virus-producing cells. The viral vector is assembled with its capsid protein and genomic RNA, replacing the original viral genetic material. The modified virus acquires the CRISPR RNA as a passenger payload, encapsulated within its lipid envelope or protein capsid. Upon infection of target host cells, the virus delivers its crRNA cargo into the cytoplasm via endocytosis and lysosomal escape. After entering the nucleus through nuclear pore complexes, the released crRNA can then interact with Cas proteins to initiate genome editing at the desired loci.

The choice of viral vector largely depends on factors such as host specificity, transduction efficiency, and immunogenicity concerns. Lentiviral vectors, for example, are capable of infecting non-dividing cells but may elicit stronger immune responses compared to AAV or adenoviral alternatives. AAVs, being less immunogenic, have become popular choices for gene therapy applications.

Incorporating CRISPR RNA into viral delivery systems offers several advantages over direct crRNA administration. It enables targeted and efficient transduction of cells, enhances the stability of crRNA in circulation, reduces off-target effects due to improved tissue specificity, and can facilitate simultaneous editing or multiplexed gene modifications.

However, challenges persist, including concerns over potential off-target effects from viral-mediated delivery itself, immune responses against the viral vector, and the need for further optimization of viral design and packaging strategies to ensure precise genome editing with minimal collateral damage. Continued research is necessary to refine this approach and maximize its therapeutic potential in various applications, ranging from treating genetic diseases to agricultural biotechnology.

————————————————————————

Virus AI describes as being the likely candidate for spreading crisper RNA

“A digital cryo-electron micrograph of the Adenovirus serotype 5 (Ad-5)/HVR5-33RGD vector. Adenoviruses are non-enveloped, double-stranded DNA viruses that cause cold-like infections of the upper respiratory tract.”

[blightoath]

if i were to tweak feyn's history/verse for inquisition and veilguard to be a fen'harel double agent...

because they traveled together some during the blight, leliana knows that feyn is an excellent hunter and tracker, and if anyone has a hope of finding the hof, it would be him. she reaches out to him about the wardens and asks in his help searching for the hof and the wardens in general. having been mentored by the hof in amaranthine, feyn has some ideas on where to go or what to do, and takes off to deliver the messages leliana needs.

by the time feyn gets back, he's set his sights on continuing the scouting, spying, delivery work with leliana--he spends literally 100% of his time in the field, getting things to or from leliana (or charter or others) via dead drops and pass offs to middlemen or other agents

(at this point, he's awol from the wardens. most assumed he died at adamant, which suits him just fine)

by the time of trespasser, no one thing can be contributed to feyn, he's made nearly no big moves himself nor been given anything of huge import, but his loyalty to the inquisition is known, and that's key

regardless of whether the inquisition is disbanded or given to the chantry, the current spy roster has to be shaken up to faces unfamiliar--so feyn gets brought in from the field to take on bigger and more influential work

eventually they decide they need a man on the inside and feyn, with his years of independent work, excellent memory, charm, tracking knowledge, dalish background, and warden improvements, makes a fine agent

feyn heads immediately to tevinter to start a long undercover mission. gets himself captured, enslaved, and put to work in a shipyard and storage warehouse, moving goods around

assists a fen'harel agent, who frees him in return and recruits him to the cause

after doing a few odd jobs here and there, it's revealed he has a talent as a tracker and is put to work to find various components needed in some of solas' rituals

his identity is discovered once during a mission. during the mission, one of the other agents in their three person squad had died in the line of duty, and rather than risk his time as a double agent coming to light, he killed the second agent. feyn was regarded suspiciously for a time since he was the only survivor to return, but eventually his skills as a tracker were needed

he is the agent who finds the lead on the red lyrium idol and tracks it to the auction house in llomerryn. part of his ability to find the lyrium idol is by tapping into his warden ability to sense darkspawn by focusing on the call of the blight within the lyrium. when asked, however, he just says he has a lucky streak and a good gut for guessing

feyn is one of the agents tasked with protecting solas during the evanuris prison transfer. while he's at the temple, he positions himself in such a way that he can kill solas with an arrow to the heart. he fully intends on doing so until varric appears and messes with his aim--the shot goes wide and in a stroke of incalculable bad luck, shatters some of the scaffolding holding up the statues

unsure if his cover is blown or not, feyn books it down to the center platform to at least steal away the lyrium dagger. two outcomes can occur:

1) rook makes it to varric first, gets ko'd, and feyn helps neve and harding escape to the lighthouse. until anyone knows any wiser, feyn keeps to his cover as an agent of fen'harel. saving rook, harding, and neve then was a choice made by him, showing that solas was actually interested in minimizing casualties, as he figured other agents in the area would fend for themselves after seeing solas shoved into the fade.

2) feyn makes it to the dagger but cuts his palm trying to get it and varric away from the emerging evanuris. neve and harding rush out to help and catch varric's last exclaimed word as "rook"--feyn's codename amongst leliana's reports. feyn then takes the place as rook, though he's torn between loyalties and ideologies

[cipher-zoo]

buggy's finesse and trickery is unparalleled

You are so right, my friend!

I think, with all the gags that he is used for/plays a part in, it is easy to forget that Buggy is in fact one of the more intelligent characters we know.

Is he a dumbass? Yes. Is he really smart? ALSO YES!

I mean, come on. It has been said before, but I have to say it again. Buggy not only builds his own bombs, he managed to build them in a high security prison.

I know we like to joke about the fact that Buggy became a Yonko because of luck, but the achievements that are attributed to him, are truly his!

He truly was an apprentice of Gol D. Roger and Dark King Rayleigh.

He truly is considered a Friend by Redhaired Shanks

He was one of the most infamous pirates of the East Blue (hell, he was known as Buggy the Immortal - I know this is an anime only thing, but I will never let it go)

He razed villages to the ground (There is no way Orange Town was his first destroyed village)

He managed to almost execute a fellow pirate on what is probably the most famous scaffold in all the world, and escaped the marines in a city crawling with them.

He was only captured when he unknowing infiltrated a Marine Base .... and unknown or not, he INFILTRATED a Marine Base!

He truly did lead a prison breakout from one of the most secure prisons in the world (was he the one who did most of the work? No! But that doesn't matter, because he was still a leader of the breakout)

He exposed the Summit war to the entire world by streaming it!

He built up Buggy's delivery Service, an organization so big it had no problem supplying people with mercenaries, weapons and resources.

Did he have help (even if no everyone was aware they were aiding him) in most of these situations? Sure. Did some of it happen as accidents? YES. But they are still his achievements.

But, what, I personally think, is most telling in regard to Buggy's intelligence is his ability to get followers. Is a lot of it dumb luck? Hell yeah! Of course! Buggy has incredible luck - even though it ends up biting him in the ass along the way. But that doesn't change the fact that Buggy is smart enough to use the situations he finds himself in to his advantage. He knows what to say, whom to grovel to, and whom to lead to get his way.

He is an incredibly interesting character. And I know that most of these points are probably overanalyzed by me. But man! I love Buggy!

[reblog-house]

When Villagers Fly

Written for Hermit-a-day-May, day 3: Zedaph!

Wc: 470

Ao3: Here!

Zedaph’s plan was genius. The execution… could’ve gone better to start with, but where’s the fun in that?

He wasted many hours just to get one baby zombie villager on a chicken and then had to reconstruct the mob farm some thousand blocks away to perfect the spawn rates, but now, he had two extra villagers at his disposal, sitting standing on their chickens, ready for an aerial service delivery right into his crack. 

Yes, what a great way of phrasing that.

He was more than familiar with the concept. In fact, he pioneered the art with Tango five worlds back and then shaped it to perfection last season, catching the sheep as they were birthed, welcoming their adulthood flying, and keeping them in the air for the rest of their lives.

Wow, time had surely flown.

Just like he was about to right now.

He secured the leads on the chicken, making sure there was no way they could slip through and  fall. They wouldn’t die — thankfully, because he’d already lost one villager trying to retrieve them from their pits — but it would be inconvenient retrieving them.

A big advantage to villagers on chickens was that you could take them wherever you wanted without using minecarts or boats. Free range for all! Minus the mobs themselves, but who cared about that? The problem was — or would be, to anyone who wasn’t him — transporting them large distances since they couldn’t go through Nether portals. Something about riding stuff.

The tower of scaffolding next to him was much taller than any he’d ever needed before, and it probably wouldn’t be enough for getting the whole way home.

Good thing he brought extra scaffolding!

With the leads tied around his wrist and hand, he climbed.

It was clear when the villagers lifted off the floor. An immediate pull down. And then—

Bounce, bounce, bounce.

Good. 

He kept going, perfectly used to the weight of heavier mobs pulling down on his wrist. He had a lot of practice with his Mob Mobile Zedvancement of the last season. If only he’d thought of villagers on chickens…

He wasn’t particularly strong, the slime of the lead did all the work for him. All he had to do was to hold on. 

The world below him was so small from up there. He did a cursory check of everything before leaping.

The straps of his elytra were well equipped. He opened the wings and gave them a quick look. Mhm, yes, good. No wear and tear, and no way for it to break before he and the well-earned fruits of his labor got home.

He slipped his goggles on and looked down at the still-bouncing mobs.

“Are you four ready? Of course you are, you can’t understand me!”

And with a cheeky smile, he set off.

[chic-chronicles0908]

The Magic of Collagen: Unveiling Its Benefits for Skin Health:   

What is Collagen?   

Collagen is the most abundant protein in the human body, making up about one-third of its protein composition. It is the primary building block for our skin, bones, muscles, tendons, and ligaments. It is the scaffolding that holds everything together, providing structure and strength. There are at least 16 types of collagens, but most of the collagen in the body consists of types I, II, and III. Type I collagen is the most prevalent in the skin, contributing to its firmness and elasticity.   

 How Does Collagen Benefit the Skin?    

1. Improves Skin Elasticity and Firmness: As we age, our body's collagen production naturally declines, leading to sagging skin and the formation of wrinkles. By boosting collagen levels, we can help maintain skin elasticity and firmness, giving it a more youthful appearance.  2. Hydrates the Skin: Collagen helps retain moisture on the skin, keeping it hydrated and plump.  It is crucial for maintaining a smooth and healthy complexion.   3. Reduces Wrinkles and Fine Lines: Collagen's role in skin regeneration helps to reduce the appearance of wrinkles and fine lines. It promotes the production of new skin cells, aiding in skin repair and renewal.  4. Supports Skin Healing: Collagen is vital for wound healing. It helps to repair (repairing) damaged skin by encouraging the formation of new tissue, making it essential for recovery from injuries or surgeries.   5. Prevents Skin Damage: Collagen's antioxidant properties help protect the skin from damage caused by free radicals, which are responsible for ageing and various skin conditions.      

How to Boost Collagen Production: 

One of the most popular methods to boost collagen levels is through supplements. These supplements, available in various forms like powder, capsules, and drinks, contain hydrolyzed collagen that is easily absorbed by the body Topical Treatments: Skincare products containing ingredients like retinol, vitamin C, and peptides can stimulate collagen production. These ingredients promote collagen synthesis and improve skin texture and tone.  1. Healthy Diet:   Consume a diet rich in protein, vitamin C, zinc, and copper. Foods like bone broth, fish, citrus fruits, leafy greens, nuts, and seeds are excellent choices.    

2. Avoiding Harmful Habits:  Excessive sun exposure, smoking, and high sugar intake can damage collagen fibers (fibers). Protecting your skin from UV rays, quitting smoking, and reducing sugar consumption can help maintain collagen levels.    

3. Regular Exercise:   Physical activity can improve circulation, which in turn can enhance the delivery of nutrients and oxygen to the skin, promoting collagen production.   

Conclusion: Collagen is undeniably a powerhouse protein when it comes to skin health. Its benefits extend beyond just aesthetic improvements and play a pivotal role in overall skin function and protection. By incorporating its importance and introducing collagen-boosting practices into our daily routine, a healthier and resilient skin can be experienced. Embrace the power of collagen and let your skin glow with vitality and youthfulness! Feel free to share your thoughts or ask questions in the comments below. Your skin deserves the best care, and collagen is here to help!  

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Scientists create method to bond hydrogels and other polymeric materials using chitosan

Hydrogels are versatile biomaterials conquering an increasing number of biomedical areas. Consisting of water-swollen molecular networks that can be tailored to mimic the mechanical and chemical features of various organs and tissues, they can interface within the body and on its outer surfaces without causing any damage to even the most delicate parts of the human anatomy. Hydrogels are already used in clinical practice for the therapeutic delivery of drugs to fight pathogens; as intraocular and contact lenses, and corneal prostheses in ophthalmology; bone cement, wound dressings, blood-coagulating bandages, and 3D scaffolds in tissue engineering and regeneration. However, attaching hydrogel polymers quickly and strongly to one another has remained an unmet need as traditional methods often result in weaker adhesion after longer-than-desired adhesion times, and rely on complex procedures.

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