#source: the recovery system

[chargers-rp-things]

Feel the sting of betrayal Deadly sin like a weapon As cruel as steel and bullets Corrupted absolutely!

[underthesmilesunderthefun]

i say this as nicely as possible and in fear of being yelled at…

starlight express RP accounts PLEASE figure out your own tag and stop using the main one for regular RP stuff. it makes it so difficult to find things. i have no issue with RP whatsoever and i think its a great way to be creative and explore characters. but it is making it difficult to navigate the tags related to stex at all.

[8bitgarden-sys]

Pics of Roman /sys

Roman uses he/him pronouns

[g-rgeous]

Blog announcement! I saw a source-call blog that I liked going inactive recently, and figured I could help out some of those left wandering around who didn't get a chance to ask :-) Check my rules before sending in a call, and remember to be kind when doing so! <3

[blackmoreops]

Netflix's Chaos Monkey: Embracing Failure for Resilience

Chaos Monkey is an innovative tool developed by Netflix as part of their Simian Army suite of testing tools. It deliberately introduces failures into your cloud infrastructure to test system resilience and recovery capabilities. Chaos Monkey works by randomly terminating instances in your production environment. This might sound counterintuitive, but by forcing failures to occur, it helps…

[mortalislabs]

Trigonelline is a methylated form of niacin and is a recently isolated molecule that could be the secret ingredient in your stack. This form of the B vitamin is involved in the generation of NAD+, a cofactor for over 500 metabolic processes in cells. Trigonelline promotes cellular repair and energy, and as we’ll see, exerts quite a few benefits that are specifically useful for anyone training seriously.

Trigonelline is found in several plant-based foods, notably coffee beans and fenugreek seeds. Green coffee beans contain trigonelline concentrations ranging from 0.6% to 1.0% by weight. However, traditional dietary sources don’t provide sufficient amounts to elicit significant physiological effects. For instance, the average trigonelline content in a cup of coffee is approximately 53 mg, and about 50-80% of trigonelline decomposes during the roasting process, leaving virtually nothing for your body to make use of.

Recent research published on this naturally occurring alkaloid highlights its potential in enhancing muscle function and combating age-related decline. A 2024 study published in Nature Metabolism identified trigonelline as a novel precursor to nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide (NAD+), a molecule essential for energy metabolism and mitochondrial function. The study demonstrated that trigonelline supplementation improved muscle strength and reduced fatigue in aged mice, suggesting that it can head off the natural muscle decline seen in aging, even in those who are already training at capacity.

NAD+ gets discussed a lot in the longevity space because of its natural and steep decline over the years, tied to all the diseases of aging. It's a metabolic linchpin that determines how efficiently your cells convert fuel into usable energy. For athletes, that efficiency translates into faster recovery, better performance under load, and greater resilience under metabolic stress. Or, you know, complete lack of those things if you don’t have enough of it.

NAD+ is required for redox (oxidation–reduction) reactions in mitochondrial energy production and is a cofactor and substrate for longevity-promoting sirtuins and other enzymes involved in muscle repair and adaptation. During intense physical activity, NAD+ levels drop as demand for ATP surges. Replenishing intracellular NAD+ is critical not only for restoring mitochondrial output but also for initiating the cellular programs that rebuild and reinforce muscle tissue [1].

Trigonelline offers a direct path to NAD+—one that bypasses the liver and supports muscle tissue specifically. In a landmark 2024 study, researchers at EPFL and Nestlé Health Sciences (yes, that Nestlé, but there aren’t any conflicts of interest, we checked) demonstrated that trigonelline functions as a previously unidentified NAD+ precursor, rapidly taken up by skeletal muscle cells and converted into NAD+ via a salvage pathway independent of the traditional NR or NMN routes [2]. This muscle-specific uptake is particularly important for athletes, who require localized replenishment in the very tissues under stress.

Most NAD+ precursors—including nicotinamide riboside (NR) and nicotinamide mononucleotide (NMN)—undergo hepatic metabolism before entering systemic circulation. This creates a bottleneck at your liver for targeted muscle repair. Trigonelline appears to bypass that constraint by delivering precursors directly where they're needed most: the muscle fibers responsible for performance and endurance.

This shift in delivery has implications beyond simple NAD+ restoration. In the same Nature Metabolism study, aged mice supplemented with trigonelline showed significant improvements in grip strength and fatigue resistance—outcomes tightly linked to muscle NAD+ availability. Unlike systemic precursors that may elevate circulating NAD+ levels without improving localized bioenergetics, trigonelline drives changes in muscle mitochondrial density and function.

For athletes, this is the difference between feeling recovered and actually being rebuilt.

Mitochondria Make Muscles Move

Endurance Starts in the Electron Transport Chain

Every sprint, every lift, every set depends on one thing: mitochondrial output. The ability to generate ATP on demand—efficiently and cleanly—is the defining line between sustained power and early fatigue. Trigonelline’s value lies not just in elevating NAD+ levels, but in what that elevation enables at the level of mitochondrial performance.

NAD+ drives oxidative phosphorylation, the mitochondrial pathway responsible for converting nutrients into ATP. When NAD+ is depleted, electron transport slows, reactive oxygen species accumulate, and mitochondrial output tanks—resulting in performance collapse and prolonged recovery. Replenishing NAD+ restores mitochondrial throughput, enhances metabolic flexibility, and allows cells to switch between carbohydrate and fat oxidation with minimal friction [3].

Trigonelline’s role as a direct NAD+ precursor in muscle tissue makes it especially powerful in this context. By bypassing hepatic metabolism and restoring NAD+ where it's most needed, it kickstarts mitochondrial biogenesis—activating pathways like PGC-1α that drive the formation of new mitochondria and increase the efficiency of existing ones [4]. This isn’t theoretical: in the 2024 Nature Metabolism study, trigonelline supplementation significantly boosted mitochondrial content and activity in aged mice, restoring performance metrics typically lost with age and overtraining [2].

This cellular shift translates directly to the field, the track, and the gym. More mitochondria means more ATP per unit of oxygen consumed. This is the underpinning of higher VO₂ max, improved lactate clearance, and extended time-to-exhaustion. Trigonelline supports this adaptation at the source, which means athletes can train harder, go longer, and bounce back faster—without relying on stimulants or sketchy ergogenics.

More NAD+ in muscle equals better mitochondrial kinetics, which equals better athletic output. Period.

Strength and Muscle Health

Preserving Power, Not Just Mass

Strength isn’t only about size—it’s about contractile quality, neuromuscular precision, and the cellular capacity to resist breakdown under stress. Trigonelline’s impact on muscle tissue reaches beyond endurance. It supports structural integrity, performance output, and resilience across multiple pathways—especially in the context of aging or chronic training demand.

In the 2024 Nature Metabolism study, trigonelline supplementation restored muscle grip strength and improved fatigue resistance in aged mice, with outcomes exceeding those observed in control groups receiving traditional NAD+ precursors [2]. This effect was tied to increased NAD+ availability in skeletal muscle, which reactivated SIRT1- and PGC-1α-dependent pathways responsible for mitochondrial biogenesis, inflammation control, and protein maintenance—all critical for contractile performance and mass preservation [5].

NAD+ also plays a protective role against muscle wasting. It regulates the balance between anabolic and catabolic signaling, modulating FoxO transcription factors and suppressing atrophy-related genes like MuRF1 and atrogin-1 [6]. This anti-catabolic signaling becomes especially important during periods of calorie deficit, illness, or overreaching, when muscle degradation accelerates. Trigonelline, by supplying NAD+ directly to muscle cells, may help maintain lean mass even under systemic stress.

One overlooked aspect of muscle performance is neuromuscular junction (NMJ) stability, or, the connections between nerves and muscle fibers. These connections go both ways, with afferent signals carrying sensory feedback from muscle to brain, and efferent signals delivering motor commands from brain to muscle. Maintaining the integrity of this bidirectional communication is essential for coordination, strength, and rapid recovery from fatigue. NAD+ is required for the function of enzymes that protect NMJ architecture—particularly in aging or disease models where synaptic decline contributes to strength loss [7]. Trigonelline’s direct muscle delivery may therefore preserve the electrical signaling fidelity needed for explosive power and motor unit recruitment.

Muscle Fiber Type Preservation

Emerging evidence suggests that NAD+ availability influences muscle fiber type composition. High NAD+ levels favor the maintenance of fast-twitch (Type II) fibers—those responsible for strength, speed, and power—by enhancing mitochondrial support without triggering full transition to slow-twitch oxidative profiles [8]. This has implications for athletes seeking to maintain peak force output without compromising endurance. By elevating muscle NAD+ directly, trigonelline may help preserve this delicate fiber balance.

Trigonelline is formulated not to just support general energy—but to protect the architecture of athleticism at the cellular level.

For a reliable, pure form of trigonelline with zero additives, you can trust Mortalis Labs.

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - March 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles! This month’s doodles, like every third month, will be free to the public, so take a look!

1. Zoo 'overjoyed' as lion cubs increase pride to 10

“The litter of rare northern African lions was the second batch to be born recently at Whipsnade Zoo in Bedfordshire, after three arrived in November. […] "The youngsters will grow up side-by-side with their half-siblings, and I'm sure they'll love having an abundance of playmates."”

2. Ohio Appeals Court Rules Trans Care Is Healthcare, Strikes Down Ban For Trans Youth

“The ruling rested on two key findings: first, that gender-affirming care constitutes legitimate medical treatment, and second, that parents have the constitutional right to make healthcare decisions for their children.”

3. Oystercatcher Recovery Campaign Offers a Rare Success Story about Shorebird Conservation

“Fifteen years of coordinated conservation efforts have produced a significant recovery in the U.S. population of the American oystercatcher[….] Schulte predicted that the protection efforts will survive [federal funding cuts] because of the large number of non-federal partners involved.”

4. Fish-tracking robot aims to make fishing more sustainable in developing nations

“A solar-powered, transparent [robot] that can roam the waters autonomously for five days at a stretch, counting fish [… can help fishers] avoid the overfishing [… and] mean less fuel consumed by boats searching for schools of fish, and less degradation of nets due to trawling where there are no fish.”

5. Zoologist Rediscovers Grasshopper Species Believed Extinct

“[… T]he Appalachian grasshopper […] camouflages with its surroundings—perhaps part of the reason people haven’t seen it [since 1946]. [… A zoologist] had seen some reports on iNaturalist that he thought could have been the species[, …] and after surveying several locations, he found a female.”

6. Scaling agroforestry can support fisheries, local food production and cultural practices

“The research found that combining native forest protection (100,000 acres) with transitioning suitable fallow agricultural land to agroforestry (400,000 acres) could [reduce] erosion and boosting nearshore food production by almost 100,000 meals per year[….]”

7. A cell pulls off one of the 'Holy Grails' of biotechnology

“[… A] single-celled alga with a nucleus [… can conduct] a chemical conversion reaction that helps create some of the essential building blocks of life. […] One day, Capone says the nitroplast could be introduced to crops to allow them to convert their own nitrogen without relying on external fertilizer.”

8. FERC: Solar + wind set for a strong 3-year run despite Trump’s sabotage

“Solar accounted for 68.2% of all new generating capacity placed into service in January – more than double the solar capacity added a year earlier (1,176 MW). […] Around 30% of US solar capacity is in small-scale (e.g., rooftop) systems that are not reflected in FERC’s data.”

9. As ghost junk haunts the sea, ‘mermaids’ are fighting back

“Just two days after completing the training, Diana Garcia, one of the Sirenas, helped remove nearly 900 kilograms (2,000 pounds) of [abandoned] ghost gear and debris in the waters near her community[….]”

10. A Nest-Protecting Program Pays Off for Alabama’s Snowy Plovers

“Over the past two breeding seasons, 18 Snowy Plover chicks fledged—a major turnaround after five years of almost no chick survival. [… The team made] a concerted effort to educate the public about the need to give the birds space[, … and] people have not directly caused plover losses in Alabama recently[….]”

March 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Epic Systems, a lethal health record monopolist

Epic Systems makes the dominant electronic health record (EHR) system in America; if you're a doctor, chances are you are required to use it, and for every hour a doctor spends with a patient, they have to spend two hours doing clinically useless bureaucratic data-entry on an Epic EHR.

How could a product so manifestly unfit for purpose be the absolute market leader? Simple: as Robert Kuttner describes in an excellent feature in The American Prospect, Epic may be a clinical disaster, but it's a profit-generating miracle:

https://prospect.org/health/2024-10-01-epic-dystopia/

At the core of Epic's value proposition is "upcoding," a form of billing fraud that is beloved of hospital administrators, including the "nonprofit" hospitals that generate vast fortunes that are somehow not characterized as profits. Here's a particularly egregious form of upcoding: back in 2020, the Poudre Valley Hospital in Ft Collins, CO locked all its doors except the ER entrance. Every patient entering the hospital, including those receiving absolutely routine care, was therefore processed as an "emergency."

In April 2020, Caitlin Wells Salerno – a pregnant biologist – drove to Poudre Valley with normal labor pains. She walked herself up to obstetrics, declining the offer of a wheelchair, stopping only to snap a cheeky selfie. Nevertheless, the hospital recorded her normal, uncomplicated birth as a Level 5 emergency – comparable to a major heart-attack – and whacked her with a $2755 bill for emergency care:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/27/crossing-a-line/#zero-fucks-given

Upcoding has its origins in the Reagan revolution, when the market-worshipping cultists he'd put in charge of health care created the "Prospective Payment System," which paid a lump sum for care. The idea was to incentivize hospitals to provide efficient care, since they could keep the difference between whatever they spent getting you better and the set PPS amount that Medicare would reimburse them. Hospitals responded by inventing upcoding: a patient with controlled, long-term coronary disease who showed up with a broken leg would get coded for the coronary condition and the cast, and the hospital would pocket both lump sums:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/13/a-punch-in-the-guts/#hayek-pilled

The reason hospital administrators love Epic, and pay gigantic sums for systemwide software licenses, is directly connected to the two hours that doctors spent filling in Epic forms for every hour they spend treating patients. Epic collects all that extra information in order to identify potential sources of plausible upcodes, which allows hospitals to bill patients, insurers, and Medicare through the nose for routine care. Epic can automatically recode "diabetes with no complications" from a Hierarchical Condition Category code 19 (worth $894.40) as "diabetes with kidney failure," code 18 and 136, which gooses the reimbursement to $1273.60.

Epic snitches on doctors to their bosses, giving them a dashboard to track doctors' compliance with upcoding suggestions. One of Kuttner's doctor sources says her supervisor contacts her with questions like, "That appointment was a 2. Don’t you think it might be a 3?"

Robert Kuttner is the perfect journalist to unravel the Epic scam. As a journalist who wrote for The New England Journal of Medicine, he's got an insider's knowledge of the health industry, and plenty of sources among health professionals. As he tells it, Epic is a cultlike, insular company that employs 12.500 people in its hometown of Verona, WI.

The EHR industry's origins start with a GW Bush-era law called the HITECH Act, which was later folded into Obama's Recovery Act in 2009. Obama provided $27b to hospitals that installed EHR systems. These systems had to more than track patient outcomes – they also provided the data for pay-for-performance incentives. EHRs were already trying to do something very complicated – track health outcomes – but now they were also meant to underpin a cockamamie "incentives" program that was supposed to provide a carrot to the health industry so it would stop killing people and ripping off Medicare. EHRs devolved into obscenely complex spaghetti systems that doctors and nurses loathed on sight.

But there was one group that loved EHRs: hospital administrators and the private companies offering Medicare Advantage plans (which also benefited from upcoding patients in order to soak Uncle Sucker):

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8649706/

The spread of EHRs neatly tracks with a spike in upcharging: "from 2014 through 2019, the number of hospital stays billed at the highest severity level increased almost 20 percent…the number of stays billed at each of the other severity levels decreased":

https://oig.hhs.gov/oei/reports/OEI-02-18-00380.pdf

The purpose of a system is what it does. Epic's industry-dominating EHR is great at price-gouging, but it sucks as a clinical tool – it takes 18 keystrokes just to enter a prescription:

https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2729481

Doctors need to see patients, but their bosses demand that they satisfy Epic's endless red tape. Doctors now routinely stay late after work and show up hours early, just to do paperwork. It's not enough. According to another one of Kuttner's sources, doctors routinely copy-and-paste earlier entries into the current one, a practice that generates rampant errors. Some just make up random numbers to fulfill Epic's nonsensical requirements: the same source told Kuttner that when prompted to enter a pain score for his TB patients, he just enters "zero."

Don't worry, Epic has a solution: AI. They've rolled out an "ambient listening" tool that attempts to transcribe everything the doctor and patient say during an exam and then bash it into a visit report. Not only is this prone to the customary mistakes that make AI unsuited to high-stakes, error-sensitive applications, it also represents a profound misunderstanding of the purpose of clinical notes.

The very exercise of organizing your thoughts and reflections about an event – such as a medical exam – into a coherent report makes you apply rigor and perspective to events that otherwise arrive as a series of fleeting impressions and reactions. That's why blogging is such an effective practice:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

The answer to doctors not having time to reflect and organize good notes is to give them more time – not more AI. As another doctor told Kuttner: "Ambient listening is a solution to a self-created problem of requiring too much data entry by clinicians."

EHRs are one of those especially hellish public-private partnerships. Health care doctrine from Reagan to Obama insisted that the system just needed to be exposed to market forces and incentives. EHRs are designed to allow hospitals to win as many of these incentives as possible. Epic's clinical care modules do this by bombarding doctors with low-quality diagnostic suggestions with "little to do with a patient’s actual condition and risks," leading to "alert fatigue," so doctors miss the important alerts in the storm of nonsense elbow-jostling:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5058605/

Clinicians who actually want to improve the quality of care in their facilities end up recording data manually and keying it into spreadsheets, because they can't get Epic to give them the data they need. Meanwhile, an army of high-priced consultants stand ready to give clinicians advise on getting Epic to do what they need, but can't seem to deliver.

Ironically, one of the benefits that Epic touts is its interoperability: hospitals that buy Epic systems can interconnect those with other Epic systems, and there's a large ecosystem of aftermarket add-ons that work with Epic. But Epic is a product, not a protocol, so its much-touted interop exists entirely on its terms, and at its sufferance. If Epic chooses, a doctor using its products can send files to a doctor using a rival product. But Epic can also veto that activity – and its veto extends to deciding whether a hospital can export their patient records to a competing service and get off Epic altogether.

One major selling point for Epic is its capacity to export "anonymized" data for medical research. Very large patient data-sets like Epic's are reasonably believed to contain many potential medical insights, so medical researchers are very excited at the prospect of interrogating that data.

But Epic's approach – anonymizing files containing the most sensitive information imaginable, about millions of people, and then releasing them to third parties – is a nightmare. "De-identified" data-sets are notoriously vulnerable to "re-identification" and the threat of re-identification only increases every time there's another release or breach, which can used to reveal the identities of people in anonymized records. For example, if you have a database of all the prescribing at a given hospital – a numeric identifier representing the patient, and the time and date when they saw a doctor and got a scrip. At any time in the future, a big location-data breach – say, from Uber or a transit system – can show you which people went back and forth to the hospital at the times that line up with those doctor's appointments, unmasking the person who got abortion meds, cancer meds, psychiatric meds or other sensitive prescriptions.

The fact that anonymized data can – will! – be re-identified doesn't mean we have to give up on the prospect of gleaning insight from medical records. In the UK, the eminent doctor Ben Goldacre and colleagues built an incredible effective, privacy-preserving "trusted research environment" (TRE) to operate on millions of NHS records across a decentralized system of hospitals and trusts without ever moving the data off their own servers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/08/the-fire-of-orodruin/#are-we-the-baddies

The TRE is an open source, transparent server that accepts complex research questions in the form of database queries. These queries are posted to a public server for peer-review and revision, and when they're ready, the TRE sends them to each of the databases where the records are held. Those databases transmit responses to the TRE, which then publishes them. This has been unimaginably successful: the prototype of the TRE launched during the lockdown generated sixty papers in Nature in a matter of months.

Monopolies are inefficient, and Epic's outmoded and dangerous approach to research, along with the roadblocks it puts in the way of clinical excellence, epitomizes the problems with monopoly. America's health care industry is a dumpster fire from top to bottom – from Medicare Advantage to hospital cartels – and allowing Epic to dominate the EHR market has somehow, incredibly, made that system even worse.

Naturally, Kuttner finishes out his article with some antitrust analysis, sketching out how the Sherman Act could be brought to bear on Epic. Something has to be done. Epic's software is one of the many reasons that MDs are leaving the medical profession in droves.

Epic epitomizes the long-standing class war between doctors who want to take care of their patients and hospital executives who want to make a buck off of those patients.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/02/upcoded-to-death/#thanks-obama

Image: Flying Logos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Over_$1,000,000_dollars_in_USD_$100_bill_stacks.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[lanterns-and-lightmares]

20 plurality lukewarm takes

(aka I don’t consider these to all be hot takes, because some of them are, in my opinion, warranting of a “well, duh”.)

Not every system has to be miserable to be valid

Endogenic systems are valid

Traumagenic but nondisordered systems are valid

Mixed origins systems are valid

Systems who have no fucking clue where their system came from are valid

Tiny systems are valid

Gigantic systems are valid

Systems that are all Brainmade are valid

Systems that are mostly introjects are valid

Introjects are not their source

Systems whose alters are different as night and day are valid

Systems whose alters are similar are valid

Anti-endos are sanist

Willogenics are not “roleplaying DID”

IT IS NOT FAKING A DISORDER IF YOU ARE NOT CLAIMING TO HAVE A DISORDER.

Plurality should be more informed about— it should be normalized to be accommodating of plurals

Final fusion is not a necessary step of the recovery process

Being a system can be hard. Being a system can be happy. The two can coexist.

You should always respect what different systems want to be called; some like alters. Some like parts. Some like headmates. Whatever their preference, respect it.

HEADMATES WHO SEE THEMSELVES AS PEOPLE ARE PEOPLE.

[chargers-rp-things]

(This is mutiny) (There's no need for kings)

This is mutiny! (This is mutiny!) Burned from inside out (You're burning inside out!) There's no need for kings (There's never been a need for kings) 'Cause I'm your captain now! (I AM YOUR CAPTAIN NOW!)

[skimmingmilk]

aughhh sonic going back in time to visit little two yr old tails as been in my brain for what feels like forever! like how many dots does he end up connecting? how does he have the strength to not travel back further and knock the daylights out of tails’s mom? how does he react to the whole kukku invasion and forest fire? so many questions…aaaaa im so excited for this fic i will be in ruins. in ruins, i tell you

also with the whole sonic punching tails’s mom thing: you were talking about tails and his parents, but like sonic interacting (or just seeing) tails’s parents is always something ive thought about. idk, im curious about what your take on that would be, if you have one. (sorry if you’ve already answered something like this ahshhshs)

your boys are just spinning around in my brain constantly. they are living in there completely rent free. i adore them sm, they make me sick. anytime there’s a reference or parallel to something in their past, it hurts. these boys need therapy immediately. maybe even before immediately. your portrayal of them is such a huge inspiration istg

anyway, sorry this is kinda all over the place 😭 i just had a bunch of thoughts and threw them together in the most coherent way i could lol. hope you have a good rest of your night/day! stay safe out there 🩵

So, I was saving this because it really inspired me to write a little something, and it felt fitting because I live for your baby Tails and Sonic art, it's seriously the best boost of serotonin for me xD I'm sorry it took a minute to get to this, and I'll address the second idea you had in another ask (someone else was on the same wavelength as you around this time, and also asked about Sonic and Tails and Tails's parents xD).

But for now, please accept a continuation of the back in time shenanigans <3

Sonic Back In Time Shenanigans WIP #2: Back for the Luggage

Tracking down a second Chaos Emerald so he could skip back in time for an afternoon wasn’t how Sonic saw himself spending the past few days. Though, to be fair, he spent a good chunk of them trying to ignore the very itch encouraging him to give into this particular whim of the week, but impulse control wasn’t Sonic the Hedgehog’s claim to fame. Not by a long shot.

His curiosity had been piqued. New insight into the lore of his little brother’s life before he’d ever crossed his path niggled at his mind no matter how far and fast he ran from the temptation to take a peek. The glimpse he’d got on that rainy night hadn’t been all that reassuring, with Tails so small and sick and the time Sonic got to spend with him in that dusty, stuffy cabin all too brief.

Cocoa Island. He’d looked it up after he and Silver returned to Sonic’s present, their respective futures stabilized for the time being, but he couldn’t find much information on it. If it wasn’t for the fact that Sonic could chart it on a map, it almost seemed like it didn’t even exist.

Historic records mentioned studies of the volcanic activity on the island more than a decade ago. Mines had also been dug out in the cave systems throughout the island long before Sonic had been born, in search of potential esoteric energy sources.

The Chaos Emeralds, no doubt.

But other than that, it seemed the island had never been properly settled. Sonic could’ve flown over in the Tornado for a quick jaunt—running to small islands never boded well for him, they were always tricky to aim for—but he knew it wouldn’t have the answers he was itching to find out.

And sure, the big one was already answered. The sick baby fox he’d had to leave behind in the care of some flickies after that rainy night obviously made a full recovery, or else Tails wouldn’t be alive in Sonic’s present, off on his own adventure. Flying solo. Alone.

But knowing that without actually seeing it, experiencing it for himself, didn’t satisfy Sonic in the slightest. He was all about experiences. And he wanted to experience this mysterious chapter of his best bud’s life, one he never really let himself think all that hard on.

So, that was how Sonic found himself on a nearly deserted island eight years in the past with two Chaos Emeralds in hand. It was warmer than in his present, willing to bet they were somewhere in spring or early summer as opposed to late fall, but the dense cover of pine trees kept the forest floor cool in its shade. Allergies tickled his nose, prompting Sonic to scratch at it as he took in his surroundings. Flickies sang throughout the branches, their chirps a comforting song accompanied by the steady hum of insects hidden in the brush. With his own curious hum, Sonic picked a direction and ran with it—er, walked with it. He took it slow for the moment, trying to find his way back to the cabin from that night. It seemed like his best bet to start his search for Tails.

Until a child’s voice somewhere in the forest caught his ear, both perking up and flicking towards the sound with an instinctive pull as everything else faded into the background. A breath Sonic hadn’t realized he’d been holding lifted from his chest. The child sounded light, healthy. No coughing or crying as far as he could tell. 

Sonic followed the voice to a clearing. Unlike the stormy day he’d first stumbled in on, sunlight flooded the patch of grass between the trees with its warm beams. One fell across a tree stump where a two-tailed fox kit lay sprawled across on his tummy, bright-eyed and bushy tails further confirmation that he’d made a full recovery. Sonic’s shoulders sagged with relief as he observed him from the brush, his own green eyes lighting up as he realized he was playing. Making motor sounds with his mouth, Tails rolled a toy airplane through the long, wild grass. His tongue poked out as he accidentally blew raspberries amidst his very serious airplane noises.

“Pfft—” Sonic’s laugh nearly sputtered out of him, cut off only by the fact that the kid heard him and froze.

Ears swiveled in his direction, but Tails couldn’t see him through the trees from his spot on the stump. The toy airplane fell to the grass with a soft thump as the baby fox squirmed and tried to hoist himself up into a sitting position, his two blue boots dangling just over the edge as his bare hands planted themselves on the wood between them to support himself. One tail flicked up and down with excitement while the other twitched limply against the tree stump, like it didn’t know it could lift itself up like its twin.

“Mom?” he called out, and the hope in his voice ensnared Sonic’s heart in a vice. “Mom!”

“Ah, sorry, little guy. Not mom.” Sonic stepped out from behind the brush with his hands up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Just me. Long time no see.”

His tails immediately wilted as the bright-eyed, eager expression on his face retracted into something shy and pensive. But not scared, Sonic noted. There wasn’t a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Remember me? I stayed with you during that rainstorm the other night,” Sonic added, hoping to jog the little guy’s memory, but he didn’t actually know how long it had been since that night. 

He didn’t have Silver’s neat little time travel gizmos. His comm couldn’t pinpoint where he was in time, only in space. Which meant he couldn’t stay long, because if Tails or anyone else tried to ping his location, it’d probably come up blank. 

The Tails sitting in front of him drew his legs up, curling into himself a bit the closer Sonic got. Okay, well maybe he was a little afraid. Sonic stopped short of reaching the tree stump, hoping a reassuring smile would get him the rest of the way.

“My name’s Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog. What’s yours?”

Tails stared at him for a moment, until his gaze slowly slid past him to focus on the tree line behind him. Sonic planted his hands on his hips and canted his head back to see if anything was there, but aside from the buzz of insects and rustling of flickies in the leaves, the forest was still. No one else but the two of them smack dab in the middle of it.

“…Mom?” Tails whispered, grabbing onto one of his tails to hold.

Sonic’s smile slowly slid off his muzzle. In all the time he’d known Tails, he’d never once called for his mom. Not a single cry. By the time he came into Tails’s life, whatever innate trust he’d had for this faceless person had completely evaporated. There was only one person Tails had ever called out for, ever cried for, ever searched for when he was lost or scared or lonely.

Sonic swallowed thickly. “I don’t know where your mom is, bud. You waiting for her?” Tails nodded with the most intense certainty, his ears flopping forward and back with the force of it. “Did she… did she say when she’s coming back?” 

This time Tails pursed his mouth as he thought carefully about his answer, his pensive expression the same one he’d still make to this day when he debated how to explain something to him. If he should explain something to him. If he should give his big bro a glimpse into the inner workings of his big brain, or if it’d be easier—safer—to keep it all to himself.

And just where’d he pick up that particular trick?

But this Tails was young enough—hadn’t been hurt enough—to trust someone who looked like a grown-up, so he slowly shook his head in response, wide blue eyes gazing up at him like there’d be some sort of prize if he answered all the questions correctly. 

Sonic’s brow furrowed. “Do you know how long it’s been since you last saw her?”

“Long.” The small, squeaky voice was so matter-of-fact, Sonic nearly fell over with the sheer amount of joy a single syllable filled him with; his little bro’s attitude had been baked into him from the start.

“I’ll bet,” he huffed out a chuckle, choosing to sit cross-legged in the grass so he wasn’t towering over Tails like some kind of threat. “You like planes?” Sonic glanced meaningfully at the toy plane still discarded in the grass.

Tails glanced down at it, the tip of his tail in his mouth as he gently chewed on it. “Mmhm.”

Though Tails had long-outgrown the habit of chewing on his own tails, Sonic would still occasionally catch him nibbling on the ends of pens and pencils when he was deep in thought or starting to get hungry. Or, at least, he used to. Back before Sonic had been captured and Tails had been out on his own for six months…

“I like ‘em, too,” Sonic piped up with a grin. “Probably my favorite way to travel! Second to running, of course.”

Tails blinked at him, head canting to one side. Sonic’s smile grew and he scooched forward a couple inches, steadily closing the gap between them.

“Y’see, running’s sort of my thing. What kinda things do you like to do?”

Tails glanced down at the toy plane again, then up at the sky. He pointed shyly at the white, puffy clouds slowly floating by overhead. Sonic followed his gaze, unable to help the way his smile crooked to one side.

“You like to watch the clouds?” Sonic filled in for him, beaming when Tails nodded. “Me too. You ever look for shapes in ‘em?”

The little guy’s brow furrowed. “Shapes?”

Sonic laughed as the perplexed, and ultimately unconvinced, expression remained fixed on Tails’s face. “C’mere, I’ll show ya!”

Unceremoniously flopping onto his back, face turned towards the sky, Sonic patted the grass beside him. Though they were mostly shielded by the thick cover of trees, a light breeze still wafted down into the clearing and carried the salty scent of the sea with it. The stands of grass tickled Sonic’s side as he laid back and took a deep breath, listening for the familiar patter of eager footsteps following his lead.

Except they didn’t come.

Sonic pushed himself up onto his elbows. Tails was still curled up atop the tree stump, chewing on the tip of his tail as he watched him with worry in his eyes. Worry that had no place being there in a kid so young.

So Sonic cracked another smile. “Don’t worry. The floor’s not lava,” he teased, but it was something the toddler obviously didn’t understand. “It’s safe, bud. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Promise.”

Tails’s gaze darted to the treeline again, searching amongst their thick trunks and low-hanging branches before snapping back to Sonic. “Mm… s’pposed to wait here,” he mumbled, his words sounding a little thick as some of his syllables slurred together in a mouth that was still so small, but ultimately what he’d said was clear enough for Sonic to understand.

His smile slowly faded as he processed the simple explanation; the same feeling rising in the back of his throat as when he sat with a sick Tails in the cabin while the kid asked if he could go home. “Your mom tell ya that?”

Tails nodded. “Wait here. Be good.” His little face scrunched up in a look of pure, earnest determination. “Wait here an’ be good, then mom will come back. She said… she said.”

But she wouldn’t.

No one would.

And maybe Tails already knew that. Even if he didn’t want to believe that someone he loved would leave him, he’d always been a smart kid. Tails’s tiny claws caught in the fur of his tail as he clung tighter to it—like he could physically cling to the hope that his mom would still come back if he did this one thing really well.

If he did his very best.

“Look Sonic, I made this for you!”

“Sonic, I’ve made some adjustments to the Tornado’s aerodynamics, so her base speed has more than doubled! Pretty cool, huh?”

“I made a radar to help us track the Chaos Emeralds faster!”

“I still need to optimize your Extreme Gear’s turning radius and acceleration for your next race. It’s not good enough.”

“The Cyclone still has a ways to go in terms of balancing its different modes of transport. It’s just not good enough at land or air travel yet.”

“I’m wildly inconsistent. I’m just a burden to you. I’m not good enough.”

Not good enough.

Sonic’s fingers dug a little firmer into the soft, damp soil beneath the grass. “Well, I mean, ya gotta get off that stump sometimes. What about when you get hungry? You leave to go get food, dontcha?”

Tails stiffened, fur frizzed up like he’d been caught with his hand in the proverbial mint chocolate chip cookie jar. “Don’t tell,” he pleaded, eyes wide as panicked tears welled up. “I’m sorry—”

“Woah. Hey, hey, hey,” Sonic sat up straighter so he could lift his hands, using them to make a calming gesture as Tails’s little chest started to heave with each little gasp. “Easy there, bud. I’m not gonna tell her.”

“…Not?”

Despite the storm brewing just beneath the surface, faced with further confirmation that Tails had never truly felt safe or wanted, he refused to scare the kid with its intensity. Offering up a kind smile and reassurance, Sonic held up a finger to his mouth. Like they were keeping secrets from some nameless authority figure they’d never shared. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Tails’s ears perked up and the grip on his tail eased up. “M’kay…”

“M’kay,” Sonic mimicked, smile growing as he watched Tails scrub at his face with the fur of his forearm. “C’mere, kiddo. Watch the clouds with me.”

Tails looked at him for a moment, then scooted closer to the edge of the tree stump. He swung one leg over, then the other, his little boots scraping against the bark as he eased himself down. He was a little off-balance as he toddled over. Both arms splayed out to steady himself as one tail flicked up and the other was dragged behind him, still as limp and awkward as it had been on the stump.

Sonic’s gaze narrowed in on it immediately. “Didja hurt your tail?”

Tails paused and craned his neck back, wobbling a little as he tried to look behind him. “No,” he answered simply.

“Then how come it’s not up like your other one?”

Tails reached behind him and picked up the limp appendage, hugging it to his chest. “Doesn’t do it.”

Sonic’s frown deepened. “Let me see it.”

Tails didn’t even hesitate. He let go of his tail as he waddled right over to him. He turned his back to him, giving him complete access to the part of his body he protected the most. Sonic was the only one he’d learned to trust with them over the years, but he’d had to earn it. 

Sonic gently ran his fingers through the fur, watching his baby brother’s posture for any sign of discomfort. He didn’t flinch, but his good tail started wagging almost immediately, thwacking Sonic in the side of the face. 

“Careful with that,” he chuckled, catching it in a loose hold when it smacked him again. “You could take someone’s eye out with one of these bad boys. Here, hold onto this for me.”

He waited for Tails to grab onto his eager tail, hugging it hard when it wiggled uncontrollably. “S’tryna get away,” he giggled.

“Oh boy, better get a good grip. It’s a slippery one, that tail,” Sonic laughed, using the distraction to his advantage as he palpated along the base of the weaker tail with his fingertips.

There was barely any muscle to it, and the fur was patchy and matted, flattened in a way that his other tail clearly wasn’t, even though his fur overall could’ve used a good brushing. But it wasn’t injured, no welts or bruises or cuts. It was just… weak. Like it was developing slower than its twin. He’d caught a glimpse of it that night where he was sick, but now that he was getting a good look at it, the differences between the two were stark. He couldn’t imagine why; Sonic’s brain literally wouldn’t let him conceive of a situation where this would happen—where Tails wasn’t allowed to use one tail to the same extent as the other.

Whatever had caused this had reversed itself by the time Sonic met Tails, both little propellers of equal strength. At least, he thought they were. To be fair, he’d only been eleven and he hadn’t looked all that closely at them. And Tails barely let him patch him up from where he’d been smacked around by bullies or badniks in those first few weeks.

Idly petting along the length of his tail, Sonic stilled when it spasmed against his palm. Just looking at it, he’d have thought he accidentally pulled on it or snagged his fur, but there was a gentle rumbling sound emanating from Tails’s chest that assured him otherwise. Sonic flicked his gaze up to see Tails watching him, a smile on his face while he purred openly. His tail jerked in his hold again. It was trying to wag.

Sonic’s shoulders sagged, his own smile lopsided as he let his tail slip from his grasp. “All clear. Time to park those two tails of yours right here on the runway.”

Tails squeaked as Sonic nabbed him around the middle, but dissolved into a fit of giggles as he was lifted up and plopped down on the grass next to him. Kicking up one leg over the other, Sonic laid back once again, arms pillowed behind his head as he let out a contented sigh. Beside him, Tails laid back and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, both tails swept to the same side so they wouldn’t get pinched underneath him. He tilted his head up to look at the sky, the same color reflected back in his eyes.

“Shapes?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re gonna look for shapes, little buddy,” Sonic hummed. “Go ahead and tell me what ya find.”

Tails considered the sky for a moment, then pointed at a blob above them. “Oval.”

A sharp laugh burst right out of Sonic. “Sorry, sorry,” he wheezed when Tails pouted at him. “Not those kinda shapes, pal. I’m talking things like flickies or flowers or chili dogs! But good first try. I’m thinking that one looks more like… a whale.”

“Whale?”

“Uh-huh. See the tail?” Sonic removed one hand from behind his head so he could trace the oblong cloud as it faintly curved upwards at the end, making sure Tails’s eyes followed where he pointed. “And there’s its fin. And the wispy bits at the top are like the water shooting out of its spout.”

“Spout,” Tails echoed, blinking up at it like he was trying to solve a puzzle. 

“Yeah, you know. Like when they come up from the water and all that mist sprays from that hole on top of their heads like…” A devious grin spread across Sonic’s face before he looped his arm around Tails and dragged him close enough to blow a raspberry against his cheek with a loud, “pbbbbbbfffft!”

Tails squealed, legs kicking as he squirmed about instinctively, but made no move to pull away entirely. The ticklish sensation buzzed through him like a bunch of tiny butterflies; the feeling silly, unfamiliar, and almost overwhelming all at once. He eventually pawed at Sonic’s muzzle, pushing it away from the fluffy, baby fur of his cheek, but he was smiling and laughing as he looked over at him, eyes shining with delight.

“Was that funny?” Sonic snickered.

“Yeah!” Tails beamed at him, his tails beating an inconsistent rhythm against the grass. “You’re funny.”

“I’m funny?” Sonic feigned offense. “Excuse me, but seems to me like you’re the funny one, wiggling around over here like a cup of sparkle gelatin!”

“No!” Tails squeaked, curling up when Sonic poked him in the tummy. 

“No?” Sonic eased back, reminding himself to reign it in a bit so he could figure out if the “no” was just in play or if he was serious. 

As much as he wanted to give this little guy something to smile and laugh about while he was out here on his own—and it was so easy, it was almost intoxicating when he hadn’t seen his brother’s smile in weeks—he didn’t want to overwhelm the kid. But as he let him go and pulled back, a panicked look flashed in Tails’s eyes. His smile fell and a fear that was too big for a guy so small replaced it as he froze up.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Sonic lowered his voice, but even that didn’t stop the tears from suddenly sprouting in the corners of his eyes. “Was that too much? Sorry, kiddo. Not really used to you like this. I don’t know your limits.”

Tails didn’t answer him, probably because he didn’t know how. He was a baby, after all. Four-year-old Tails had often had trouble expressing how he felt or what he wanted. And heck, even ten-year-old Tails was still facing that particular issue. He couldn’t expect a maybe-two-year-old to know…

Tails’s tiny paw reached for Sonic’s arm, the light touch barely registering as anything other than an itch before his fingers curled into his fur. Sonic stared at his hand for a second, then immediately darted to his face. Tails sniffed, muzzle quivering as he held back his tears.

Always sucking it up. Always putting on a brave face. Always trying to be a big kid, like his big bro.

Even when he was just a baby.

“It’s okay,” Sonic repeated, his arm curling around Tails again. “I’m right here, it’s okay.”

Tails nestled against his side, nuzzling his face against him with a shiver and a barely suppressed whimper. “Mom… dad…”

The storm returned with a white-hot flash of frustration and resentment. Sonic directed his glare at the cloud whale lazily floating past them, since he couldn’t look the people responsible for this in the eyes. Not that he particularly wanted to. If they never crossed paths, his and Tails lives would only continue on for the better. That was one thing he was still certain of. There was nothing in the universe that could convince him otherwise.

Not even the baby who desperately wanted them.

But he didn’t know any better. They were all he knew. 

Releasing a long sigh, Sonic let go of the past and pulled himself back into the present—or, well, two-year-old Tails’s present anyway. He patted Tails’s side, then ruffled his fur a bit when he cuddled closer. His fur tickled as he rubbed his little face against his ribs, so Sonic scooched him up a bit more until his cheek was pillowed against his shoulder.

“Sorry if I scared you, bud,” he hummed, watching as one of Tails’s ears twitched from the lull of his voice. “Didn’t mean to. You’re safe with me, okay? When I’m around, I’m always gonna do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Tails tipped his head back to watch him, silently absorbing his words, even if he didn’t understand them. But as Sonic looked down at him, he saw his four-year-old brother snuggling up to him in a storm and his six-year-old brother falling asleep on him during a movie and his eight-year-old brother trying to be strong for Sonic as they lost another friend… He could see all of Tails in the way he looked at him, every moment where he let Sonic see a little of that vulnerability he always tried so hard to hide.

He could even see his ten-year-old brother, hundreds of miles away, determined to bury that vulnerable little kid for good, somewhere Sonic would never find him. And that was fine. If that was what Tails wanted, then Sonic wanted that for him. He wanted Tails to feel confident and capable and every bit the hero Sonic saw in him every day.

“And even when I’m not here… when you can’t see me? I’ll still be with you. Wherever you go, whatever you face, you won’t have to do it alone.”

Tails sniffed, then lifted his head to gaze up at him. “Pomise?”

Sonic’s breath hitched, his eyes as wide as saucers as the fox kit who’d only known him for a few minutes at most looked at him with nothing but trust. “Yeah. I promise.” He had to clear his throat, then tugged Tails up to sit on his chest. “You’ve got no idea just how stuck with me you are, keed.”

“No idea,” Tails repeated, shaking his head with the utmost seriousness a two-year-old could express.

Sonic’s laughter traveled through him and right up into Tails, the two of them shaking with it. The feeling of being bounced about coaxed a few giggles out of Tails and he nearly slid off his unsteady perch. But Sonic’s hands supported him, holding tight so he wouldn’t fall.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Sonic choked out as his laughter petered out on a breathless sigh. “Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

“M’kay,” Tails agreed.

“M’kay.” With one hand remaining on Tails’s waist, Sonic lifted the other to poke him on the tip of his nose, grinning at the way he went cross-eyed from following his finger. “I’m gonna follow up on that in eight years, y’know, so better work on committing that to memory, stat.”

“M’kay.”

“I mean it. There’ll be a test and everything.”

“M’kay.”

“You’re so agreeable,” Sonic sighed, closing his eyes as he laid his head back, leaving the comfortable weight of the baby fox on his abdomen. “I don’t think I know what to do with a little bro that actually listens to me.”

He felt Tails squirm a bit, one knee digging into his ribs as he attempted to scoot further up, then a finger lightly tapped Sonic on the tip of his nose. One green eye cracked open, immediately greeted with a pair of pleased blue ones and a wagging fox tail. Despite the fact that it was pinned beneath him, pressed into the grass, Sonic felt his tail give a jerky little wag, too.

“Shapes?” Tails asked.

“You wanna look for more shapes in the clouds?” Sonic waited for Tails’s eager nod before turning him around and laying him back in the grass beside him. “You got it, bud! You need a redemption round, after all. Let’s see what kinda shapes you can find this time.”

Tails hummed, contemplative gaze fixed on the clouds for a good minute before he pointed slightly to his left. “Floor!”

“Floor?” Sonic squinted up at the cloud, making sure he was looking at the right one. “Oh, ‘flower!’ Yeah, that does kinda look like a tulip flower. Good eye, kiddo.”

Tails nodded proudly. “Mmhm. Floor.”

“Flower,” Sonic repeated, and even made the sign for it, touching each side of his nose with his fingertips, like he was smelling a flower.

“Floor-er.”

“Close enough,” he chuckled. “Oh, okay, now that one looks like a crab claw. Like from a crabmeat.” Grinning devilishly, Sonic made a claw-like grabby motion at Tails with his hand while the little guy laughed. “Or, y’know, an actual crab.”

They watched the clouds, picking more shapes out of them until Tails’s stomach started growling. Sonic quickly sped through the forest to gather up whatever kind of fruits or vegetables were available on the island, eventually settling on some peaches, plums, and cherries. He grabbed them from the other side of the island, so as not to take from anywhere Tails was likely to forage on his own. He liked the plums and peaches, the sticky juice staining his muzzle as it dripped from his hands. He kept trying to lick his fingers clean while Sonic wiped the fur around his mouth so it wouldn’t bother him later when it dried. He didn’t care for the cherries as much, but Sonic still left a small stash of them and the leftover peaches at the base of the tree stump.

With a full tummy and sticky paws, Tails let out a big, squeaky yawn before he curled up on top of the tree stump. His tails covered him like a blanket as he settled down for a nap, giving Sonic just the out he needed. He’d been debating how to head back to his present time without sounding any alarms for Tails. He honestly wasn’t sure he’d be able to if the kid just looked at him with those sad eyes, like he was being abandoned all over again.

But if Tails was asleep, then maybe this would all have felt like just a dream. Sonic had just wanted to check on him after leaving him so abruptly that first time, and then he figured it couldn’t hurt to give him one good afternoon. There would be so many days where he’d be on his own after this, so many months before their paths would cross. One afternoon where a stranger showed him kindness and played with him wasn’t going to break the time stream, but even Sonic knew it couldn’t really go further than that.

“I’d break time lines for that kid.” His own words echoed at the back of his mind, the certainty he’d felt at the time faltering when faced with the sleepy face of a baby fox who wasn’t supposed to have met him yet. It wasn’t so simple.

Sonic waited until Tails’s breaths were deep and steady, arms wrapped around the weaker tail while the stronger one blanketed him with its fluff. Smoothing down his bangs with his thumb, Sonic gently stroked the top of his head and scritched behind his ear.

“Love ya, little bro,” he whispered.

Things would be okay, Sonic reminded himself as he backed out of the clearing, picking up the two emeralds that were his ticket back to his time. Because they were okay in the present. Even if Tails wouldn’t be there when he returned, they would still be okay. Eventually. They always came out on top. Sonic still believed that.

If there was anything he still believed in above all else, it was Tails.

So, to be fair, when he left the Poloy Forest that afternoon, it had been with the intention that this wouldn’t happen again.

But then, Sonic the Hedgehog’s impulse control wasn’t his claim to fame, was it?

---

A/N: Anyway, just wanted to say thank you again, 0vergrown, and that I appreciate you so much! I'm so happy you're interested in this little side plot I've got brewing and all the angst potential that it holds <3 I have so many little scenes I want to write for them, you have no idea! Hope this scratches a bit of the itch for more of these boys who need so much therapy. So much...

And thank you everyone else who's also interested in this idea! Much love to all of you!

[gayvephelis]

RISE TWITTER QNA! no major news or announcements, but here's a list of new information and confirmations:

S3 could be brought back as a retro show in the future, but it probably wouldn't happen anytime soon (focus is on mutant mayhem at the moment)

it was never decided whether capril would be friends or girlfriends (due to rise's focus on platonic relationships)

council of heads! they're in power, but a lot of influential yokai (like big mama) aren't easily controlled, and "game the system"

despite not having his dual katana, supposedly f!leo DOES still have mystic powers

ron corcillo would love to see a spin-off focused on the caseys (if rise were ever continued), and likes the potential of a raph + casey vigilante duo

the turtles got their names after splinter's love for renaissance art

big mama's henchman WAS planned to be the missing sister, and rather than venus de milo, she would've been named after a female artist (possibly frida kahlo)

for halloween: raph dressed up as a kitten, mikey as a lion, leo as a rockstar, and donnie as j. robert oppenheimer

the mystic weapons stolen from draxum acted as a conduit to help the boys unlock their innate mystic powers with a "little boost"

they didn't realise mayhem's potential as a character/force until too late, but it could've been fun to do some stories of him being an operative (a la perry the platypus)

there weren't any planned stories for side villains (aside from the foot's cupcake shop), most focus was on the turtles

not much on casey jr's backstory, just that cass and the turtles were fighting the krang and leo raised him as a warrior. casey jr only has brief memories of cass from when he was very young, and was mostly raised by leo

there were definitely six baby turtles (two sisters)! and the turtles were gonna split up to rescue the one with big mama and the one in "the dimension", but they never planned much of it out

there's most likely a time gap between the rescuing leo and the ending scene of the movie, as "after a fight like that, [everyone] would definitely crash and need some recovery time"

there would've been more big mama in future episodes, and stinkbomb was planned to return

since the turtles became known to the public at the end of the movie, they'd have to fight to retain their reputation. this and their reception to criticism/backlash would've become a major arc.

on brother rankings: mikey is definitely raph's favourite, and they all look up to raph

the stronger someone's ninpo is, the greater the drain on their energy is (as seen with f!mikey and karai)

there wouldn't be much threat on villains going after casey jr's future intel, because most of it would've been rendered obsolete

nickelodeon would never give up the rights to rise, but they could license it to a partner company (such as IDW for a comic!)

as previously mentioned, the 2nd sister would've been trapped in "another dimension" and venus/frida would have to be won over by "helping her see that she had been brainwashed [by big mama] as a child" (and redeemed)

given more time, the show would've fleshed out: the hamato story, the hidden city's origins (krang spaceship that crashed into the crying titan being the source of the ooze, its fuel being what gave the yokai mystic powers), and would've used the rat king (who ron corcillo would've liked to be a powerful yokai with rat-like abilities and some form of mind control, who could've threatened the council of heads for power in the hidden city)

as far as we know, the turtles (aside from leo's spanish) only speak english (and even their english is sometimes a bit off)

rise probably wouldn't have ever "gone dark", but after the turtles were publicly known and full-time heroes, it might've had more of an extended plotline

the turtle's casual clothes somewhat reflect their music tastes (r&b for raph, glam rock for leo, techno (and 80s) for donnie and boy band for mikey)

future heights: mikey grew a bit and then shrunk under mystic strain, leo was at least 6ft, donnie a little taller than leo, and raph at least 6'6

mikey's powers could get pretty intense, which could've resulted in some multiverse episodes (ron corcillo would be most inclined to do a 12 crossover, but any could work). while leo portals short distances, mikey's cross space and time (with great effort)

given more time, how the turtles met april would've been fleshed out

in terms of how they take after splinter: donnie and leo have a lot of his cockiness, raph his courage and sense of duty, and mikey senses him missing his family (which is part of the reason of why he tries to hold everyone together)

given more time they would've done more with the transfer of leadership from raph to leo (and originally the plan was to draw that out over S3, rather than the abrupt S2 ending). they would've been co-leaders for a while, and at times mikey or donnie would lead (they aren't really a group with just one leader archetype)

there were plans for april to have more time with the specific turtles other than donnie (like how the gumbus was focused on her mikey and leo)

the cast's mystic abilities would've increased over time, and splinter has a lot of power that hasn't been revealed (as he spent a lot of time in the hidden city in his past)

venus/frida would've been very disciplined and so serious that's she's funny, and the dimension sister would've been "a little kooky"

there weren't really any plans on how the turtles would look in cloaked human forms, just that they'd resemble lou jitsu and may be inspired by their VAs

mikey is the only brother who can fully pull all his limbs and head into his shell (being a box turtle)

any usagi appearances would be a rights matter, and depend on collaboration

on timelines: april is 16 at the start of the series and 18 in the movie, but exactly how much time passes isn't confirmed

ron corcillo would've liked to do more donnie + raph episodes, like one where despite how donnie considers himself smarter, raph ends up beating him in common sense and emotional intelligence

f!leo didn't go with casey jr to the past due to being mortally wounded in his bleeding side

given more time there would've been more flashback episodes with the turtles at various ages

though he'd never admit it, hueso has a close relationship with leo

in early S3 there would've been an episode of setting up the new lair

mystic warrior f!mikey is pretty old (maybe in his 70s), and is strong enough to use basically any mystic power, but at great cost to him physically

no major plans with bishop, but once the turtles became more well-known he could be a bit of a thorn in their sides (like j. jonah jameson to spiderman)

there might've been some redemption from big mama, but also some relapses into her "villainous ways"

given a full season, karai would've been alive for longer, and would've trained the boys for a number of episodes

confirmation that some of early s1 aired in the wrong order (which the writers weren't happy about)

in rise, there's always an unpredictability as to how sentient a mutant will turn out to be

raph probably wouldn't be super uptight about swearing, provided the boys weren't offending anyone

there weren't any plans for romantic relationships (and DEFINITELY never an april-turtles love interest), but if they had ever tried something eventually it would've been with the same species

there were no specific plans for alopex, rita, or rennet, but anything's a possibility

in terms of the 1000 years ago krang/mystic timeline, the spaceship crashed first (possibly spawning the yokai), and other krang followed it, drawing in the invasion

that seems to be about it but if there's any more i'll do a reblog with additions

[reasonsforhope]

"In drought-stricken areas, communities facing water shortages, or even in residential and commercial buildings eager to improve their environmental footprints, atmospheric water generators represent a new frontier in water production.

While it might sound like a tidbit from a science fiction movie, even the driest places on earth have moisture in the air that can be extracted and used for everyday necessities like plumbing and drinking. 

Unlike traditional dehumidifiers, which also pull moisture from the air, AWGs utilize filtration and sterilization technology to make water safe to drink. 

And while there are plenty of AWG companies out there — and the science itself isn’t novel — AWGs are becoming more efficient, affordable, and revolutionary in combating water scarcity in a myriad of communities.

Aquaria Technologies, a San Francisco-based AWG startup, was founded in 2022 to help provide affordable and clean drinking water in areas most affected by climate change. 

Using heat exchange and condensation, Aquaria’s generators draw air into their systems, cool that air below its dew point, and as it condenses, capture that water and filter it for consumption. 

As the cycle continues, the generator’s refrigerant vaporizes and goes through a process that cools it back into a liquid, meaning the heat transfer cycle repeats continuously in an energy-efficient and self-sustaining system.

“I’m sure you’ve had the experience in the summer, you take a glass of a cold drink out of the fridge and then water droplets form on the side of the bottle,” Aquaria’s co-founder and CEO Brian Sheng, said in a podcast episode. “That’s actually condensation.”

Sheng continued: “The question is, how do we create condensation? How do we extract water out of the air in large volume and using little energy? That’s what our technology does. We have created both active and passive cooling methods where we use special materials, and we’ve created heat exchange and recovery systems and airflow design, such that we’re maximizing heat exchange, and then we’re able to extract large volumes of water.”

Aquaria has created a number of generators, but its stand-alone model — the Hydropack X — can replace an entire home’s dependence on municipal water, producing as much as 264 gallons of potable water per day. 

Other models, like the Hydrostation, can provide water for up to 1,500 people at parks, construction sites, or other outdoor public areas. The Hydropixel can make 24 gallons of water per day for a seamless at-home application, requiring a simple outlet for power. 

“Atmospheric water generators present a groundbreaking solution to the global challenge of clean water scarcity, leveraging the humidity present in the air to produce potable water,” the company’s website explains.

“This technology is versatile, functioning efficiently across diverse climates — from arid regions to tropical settings. From rural communities in developing countries to advanced cities facing unexpected droughts, atmospheric water generators have a wide range of applications… transforming lives and providing secure, clean water sources.”

Considering an estimated 2.2 billion people lack access to clean water globally — including in American cities like Flint, Michigan, or Modesto, California — innovative solutions like AWGs are vital to maintaining the basic human right to clean water. 

The World Economic Forum has begun to dip its toes into this technology as well, implementing public and private partnerships to introduce AWG units in Arizona’s Navajo Nation, where the machines produce about 200 gallons of clean water per day.

“When combined with an appropriate level of community engagement and triple-bottom-line business (people, planet, profit),” a blog post for WE Forum said, “this model can be a powerful stopgap solution where few exist today.”

Similarly, according to New Atlas, Aquaria has a partnership with developers to supply its technology to a 1,000-home community in Hawaii later this year, relying entirely on atmospherically generated water.

The company also has a “Frontier Access Program,” which partners with water-related NGOs, community project developers, and sustainable development groups to deploy this technology in areas most in need.

Regardless of their use cases — in homes, in communities facing water shortages, or at aid sites navigating natural disasters — AWGs have a minimal environmental impact. Sourcing water ���from thin air,” requires no plastic bottles, no large-scale plants using up loads of energy, and no byproducts that can harm the environment."

-via GoodGoodGood, August 27, 2024

[t4lon]

but like. can we talk about how CDD systems kind of just aren't allowed to have spiritual beliefs at all, according to a lot of the stricter medicalists?

for all the blustering about fictives not being their sources, about all alters being "brainmade", for all the "actually if you have DID, this is happening instead of whatever you just said", you people seem to forget that the systems you're talking about are people who have the right to self determine the meanings of their experiences

please learn that someone with DID saying they have alters who come physically from other worlds is not necessarily "delusional" (though it would be fine if they were), "anti-recovery" (a frankly embarrassingly amorphous buzzword, at this point), or "misinformed". sometimes they are just someone with a disorder, who also holds personal beliefs. like any person without that mental illness would.

it's not fucking fair to tell people that, because they have a complex dissociative disorder, they are just inherently barred from exploring their own existence through the lens of spirituality. if you insist on only targeting the spiritual beliefs of the mentally ill, trying to systematically force all DID/OSDD-havers to conform to one set of psychological beliefs, and you don't bring the same energy to countless religious singlets . . . You are frankly being fundamentally ableist!

[lust4nero]

SOFT AND KIND ─ ˚｡⋆

summary ⋆ the blue devil seems to have forgotten that despite the invincible nature of his demonic lineage, it could still yield to the weakness of his human half-- namely, the common cold. like a blessing in his life, you're there to take delicate care of him.

tags ⋆ not beta read, fluff, very light angst, self-indulgent, sickfic, taking care of vergil while he's sick

wordcount ⋆ 1.4k

Vergil, for almost all of his life, has never felt defeated to a common cold. Sure, he’s gotten sick and endured worse but the speedy healing factor and impenetrable immune system thanks to his demonic lineage has always made sure he was never weakened for too long. In the rare and unlikely event that he needed medicine, a generic threat accompanied with a grand reveal of his Yamato’s intimidating blade directed to the poor apothecary always ensured that he got what he needed with little to no effort. The half-devil had long been accustomed to solitude, only relying on himself as he defeated demon after demon in his unrelenting quest for power. But that ambitious pursuit had long been left behind, his power-hungry days spent alone long over; he had found something no amount of power could ever compare to– you. In a surprising twist, you had managed to domesticate the blue demon and got him accustomed to a peaceful life in a home. Even Vergil was shocked, initially averse to the idea of growing soft for a defenseless mortal, but with time he managed to adapt just fine.

The susceptibility to human weaknesses like sickness and injury is what Vergil worried about, aware that this new sheltered lifestyle could weaken the indestructible condition of his physicality now that there’s no need for his formerly nomadic lifestyle and reliance on adrenaline. Worse, illness crept up on him over the past few days; he felt himself tire out easily, his senses a little less sharp than he would’ve liked it. His throat followed, becoming dry and uncomfortably itchy. Eventually, his nose started to become runny which led to his predicament now: bedridden with a head cold and fever. Miserable and ashamed, he silently berates himself for not listening to your advice; he should’ve gotten more rest, taken better care of his well-being, and changed out of wet clothes as soon as he got home from consecutive missions. He sinks beneath the bundle of blankets you’ve wrapped him in, sheltering his sensitive eyes and cursing his bothersome headache. If Dante had found out that he had gotten ill, Vergil would not be able to live it down– especially that his younger twin survives off of the least nutritious food items, pizza and strawberry sundaes.

On the occasion, he pokes his head out of the blankets to get some air that his clogged sinuses permits. As Vergil inhales as deep as he possibly could, his sharp-hearing ears pick up on your light footfalls that pad up the stairs; your steps are accompanied by your signature humming and the delicate clinking of porcelain. His mind travels to the thought of warm food for his empty stomach, which now grumbles as he thinks of more warm dishes to stuff his mouth with.

“Chicken congee sounds appetizing,” he thinks. “Or some sort of bone broth with noodles.”

No matter what you would serve him, his only hope is that he could stomach it and keep it down so he’d have some source of strength in order to secure a speedy recovery from this god-forsaken bug. He used to chide humans for yielding to illness, looking down on mortal purebloods with condescension the moment injury falters their bodies only to end up bedridden with an irritating case of joint pain. Well, his demonic side can only hold the flu off for so long.

The silence in the room is interrupted by polite knocks to the door, followed by the sound of you turning the knob as silently as possible. A faint savory and umami scent wafted in the air and his empty stomach grumbled, needing sustenance to effectively bounce back to full health.

“Vergil, it’s time for your meal.” You gently wake him, sitting by his side as you carefully pat the part of the blanket that conceals his shoulder.

He sits up slowly, accompanied with grumbling and groans. “Smells flavorsome,” he weakly comments.

It’s a wonder he can still smell things to an extent despite the clog of his sinuses.

“It’s miso soup with tofu and some veggies,” you explain. “I’ve also got some banana for you.”

There’s also a glass bottle in the tray you brought, along with a sugar cube placed on a spoon. Medicine, he assumed.

He was just about to poke his arms outside of the blanket bundle he made in order to reach for the bowl and feed himself but you beat the sick devil to it, scooping some soup into the spoon and extending it towards him.

“Say ‘ah’.”

“Despite my weakened state, I am still capable of feeding myself,” Vergil explains in a hoarse voice. “There is absolutely no need for what you are doing right now.”

“Just say ‘ah’ and eat up honey,” you softly tut. “You were already groaning in pain while sitting up, let me take care of you this time.”

He didn’t know that it was possible for his cheeks to grow even warmer, burning with shame, yet he still followed as you said and put the bowl of the spoon inside his mouth. A comforting warmth coupled with savory flavours swam around his mouth, earning a pleased hum from your love. Too tuckered out to keep up his stoic front, he let his eyes close every now and then as he allowed you to care for him. In no time, the bowl was empty– soup, tofu, and other vegetables you added. Vergil, now satisfied with his stomach full, laid back down to doze off once more.

“Thank you very much,” his voice puts the silence to a pause again. “For the food, the medicine, and for watching over me.”

“Your welcome, Vergil.  Just focus on getting better soon, okay?”

He nods, opening his eyes to lock his gaze with you as much as he could.

“You have my word that I will ensure that my body is in peak physical condition to avoid this inconvenience and reduce your worries in the future,” he promises. “You have done more than enough for me and our household– what I should have done has been completed by you and for that, I feel greatly indebted to you once more.”

Even with his throat feeling scratchy and his head pounding obnoxiously, he’s still wordy and overly formal in his speech, but it’s just another one of his quirks that you find charming.

“I’m counting on that,” you grin cheekily before closing the door.

Medicine always had to intervene with dreams, creating odd and nonsensical dramas that unfolded like poorly planned films as one slept shallowly. Despite the hogwash mess of his dreams that frequented him as he tried to rest, some of them appeared to be taken directly from his memories– ones that he assumed he had locked into a tightly sealed box and stashed away into the farthest alcoves of his mind.

He was just 17 in the dream, far too young to be threatening an innocent family of apothecaries for antidotes. Brandishing his mighty Yamato, he pointed its sharp edge to their necks as he demanded them for the most effective of their materia medica. In another, he was 21 and sneaking into the herbarium of a convent to steal neem and myrrh for his slash wounds. He switched his position, raised the sheets above his head, threw his arms around another pillow, and rubbed on his temples yet nothing could soothe him from the sins of his past. The white-haired half-devil was so distracted by his turbulent dreams that he didn’t notice a sinking feeling beside him. Aquamarine irises shot open when he felt your arms gently surround him, a grounding weight pressing against his body.

“It’s just you,” he whispers.

“Mhm,” you hum. “You were twitching as you slept. Is it one of those dreams again?”

He stayed silent yet you already knew your answer.

“You, too, will fall ill if you dare to continue nuzzling into my flu-afflicted self,” he advises.

“Don’t care,” you respond stubbornly. “Besides, that means you’re probably going to take care of me once I’m the one that’s sick.”

“I take exquisite care of you outside of the reasoning of maladies,” he retorts. “I do not see the need to step into harm’s way just to receive my attention. Regardless of what you get yourself into, you have already captured it effortlessly.”

You chuckle, pressing your cheek into his unusually warm back. Working twice as hard has definitely exhausted you a lot faster and you worry that you definitely will catch this bug but with Vergil by your side, you don’t feel that fear consume you– likewise with your half-devil lover.

[delite-tea]

My headcanon design for Tulpar and layout study

Only have top view for now. Will share part 2 for outer ship design and the crew's rooms.

Some details of the ship:

Shape is turtle-inspired. The idea mainly due to the cockpit’s position and shape.

Tulpar is 55 years old and counting (for now).

The height of the cargo area is equivalent to five levels/floors, extends lower than the first floor and higher than the second floor.

The path to the reactor/oxygen and water supply is LONG. If there's something that needs to be repaired, the mechanics usually do not eat/drink beforehand to avoid needing to go to the bathroom.

The washroom doesn't have a lock, so the crew has to flip the sign on the door if it was occupied. Unfortunately…sometimes they forgot...so now they also have to knock the door before entering, just in case.

Having reactor next to oxygen tank is surely not a bad idea!

The ship used water recovery system. Daisuke was not amused when he found out where the tap water comes from.

Curly sometimes refers the ship as Ms. Turtle. “Her full name is Tulpar the Turtle” he would say.

Reference pictures and source under the cut:

Source: Out of Bounds Secrets | Mouthwashing