#Juvenile turf

[horseracingweekly]

Grade 3 winner ZULU KINGDOM (IRE) goes in search of another graded stakes victory and an all-expenses paid trip to the Breeders Cup Juvenile Turf this fall at Del Mar when he goes to post in Saturday's Grade 2 Pilgrim Stakes at Aqueduct.

📸 Gary Johnson

[whiteraven90]

Your take on griffins is so cool 👀 Do you have worldbuilding notes somewhere? Like what their dynamic is with humans, or what their habitats and habits usually are? I’d love to know more about them!

Hey, thanks for asking! I actually had written a little species description for them, but I shelved it until I draw illustrations for it. However I might as well post it now with less relevant pictures. Who knows when would I get around to drawing those illustrations. First of all... there are no gryphons on Tetra. No mortal ones, just spirits.

Spirits were created by the gods to be sentient blueprints for species. Flora & fauna were created out of chosen spirits (e.g. polar bear, barn owl), and the leftovers were repurposed (e.g. great horned gryphon, common pegasus).

In addition to the whole range of shapes/forms spirits were designed to take as part of nature, they also had their would-be behavioral patterns pre-set into them. So now lets see how the Great Horned Gryphons would have lived!

Great horned gryphons (also simply referred to as 'griffins' from now on) are sexually dimorphic, and live in pairs. They are very resource-conscious - individuals not raised properly may hunt their food sources to extinction, after which they either starve to death or get themselves killed while ravaging the animals of other griffins or humans. Each pair oversees a vast territory filled with wild herd animals. They engage in several behaviors that are basically animal husbandry. They will protect their herds from other predators and even natural disasters. They will herd their animals toward quality food. They can recognize juveniles of many species - humans included -, and will not eat them. They sometimes raise the abandoned offspring of other species, not because they plan to eat them, but because they get a kick out of it. They don't hunt, per se. They hit up one of their herds, select a specimen, and carry it home for lunch. They like to construct their nests atop cliffs and similar high points overlooking their territory.

Their relationship with people is complex (and hypothetical, as is everything else), since people may want to claim the same lands for the same purposes. But typically if they saw a lone human child, just waltzing around on their territory, they'd pick it up and put it down near adult humans. Solitary adult people tend to be safe as well for different reasons. The staple of griffins is large animals, and they like to conserve their energy. Normally they won't get up for 1 lone human nugget.

If an adult pair spots an unrelated juvenile griffin on their turf, they leave it alone, but they don't tolerate mature trespassers or other pairs. They are hostile to all other species of gryphon. Given the opportunity, they will kill and eat them. Great horned gryphons are viviparous and give birth to 1 chick at a time which stays with the parents for several years to learn some manners. Mostly moderation, recognizing important animal species, and caring for their animals. Their lifespan is 40-70 years.

And that's more or less it. At present, great horned gryphons are not plural. There's just one spirit, Griffin, representing the whole species, either until the heat death of the universe or until he bites the dust. Spirits are shapeshifters with a range of native forms as opposed to one original form. They have some rules among them on etiquette, such as when is it ok to take the form of another spirit. Griffin mostly uses his adult male form, and lets Phoenix take his adult female one.

Several of his species' characteristics can be felt in his personality - excels at relaxing, hard to anger or scare, won't hurt kids or pets and is good with them, extraverted, resource-conscious, enjoys having vast lands. His relationship with humans is... complicated. Nowadays he kinda pretends to be a pet at the palace of the emperor of the Karkian Empire, and is banned from or unwelcome in several other countries. Sorcerers summon him sometimes, but the jolly fucker usually charges by the hour for his spirit-y services, and may even screw the summoners over if he doesn't like them.

[happy-lemon]

I never meant to cause you any sorrow. I never meant to cause you any pain. ~ Prince, 1984

The guy at the record store was right about my friends. They still cared about me. I missed some weddings, birthdays, and, the birth of their babies, and there's nothing I can do to make up for it. Except maybe to be more present for the people I love.

I started busking in the park again because it brings me such joy. More often than not, I walk away with an empty tip jar, but it doesn't matter. Playing music makes me feel alive in a way I only thought drugs could.

One thing I learned about addiction is that it's a cage. And it made me think that maybe Aretha—the crow I bought from the Mysterious Merchant in Ravenwood—might also be happier being free. So, I gave her one last bunch of grapes and said goodbye. Maybe we'll meet again someday on her turf and her terms.

I also petitioned to have my juvenile record expunged. If I'm going to turn over a new leaf, I might as well turn it all the way over. Get my GED. Go to college. Find a real job. See a therapist. Maybe join Addicts Anonymous. Give all my paintings to Mom and have her put the money in my trust fund until I can trust myself again.

[dogtoling]

Biology of Inkfish - Lifespan

Most cephalings have lifespans in the mid-to-late 60's - a formidable age for a cephalopod. This comes with some variation; larger species typically have longer lifespans and commonly reach ages of 80 years to even a hundred, whereas small species tend to live shorter lives of 40 to 60 years. This pattern of lifespan variety matches with larger species also maturing slower than small species, as some large species do not achieve "Turf War age" until 18 or 19 years old, whereas small species may do so as young as 9. In the modern day, modern medicine and special procedures, such as sun drying, mean that inkfish in particular lead long lives, with common-sized species routinely pushing 100 years in age.

Unlike some animals, cephalings do not stop growing after their initial growth spurt during puberty. While their growth slows down to a crawl, cephalings will continue growing for the majority of their adult life at a slower rate mostly dictated by environment, diet and species. This growth tends to average around at 1-2cm per year, with smaller species growing less and larger species growing much more. In inkfish, this growth will slow down towards their 50’s, after which lessened ink production and ink retention rates will make them shrink over time.

[The life cycles of a squid inkfish illustrated from paralarval juvenile forms (1-5) to teenager (6), adult (7) and elder (8). In elderly inkfish, the ink sac and ink production dry up and chromatophores dull out. Muscle loss often causes tentacle crown collapse, leading to the tentacle crown to cover the face at all times.]

Juvenile Inkfish

All inkfish start their lives as paralarvae. Hatchlings are tiny, 4-limbed critters with well-developed eyes and not-so-well developed locomotion skills. The paralarvae develop inside their eggs until they are large enough to poke out of the egg head-first. Newly hatched inkfish are helpless and depend on their caretakers, typically the mother, to protect them and bring them food. Oftentimes a mother inkfish will carry its offspring around on its crown tentacles*. Newborn inkfish have a natural instinct to grip onto things with their tentacles and mirror the color of those around it. Young inkfish are a solid color to help them better camouflage into ink; the chromatophores in juveniles are few but exceptionally large, causing their signature vibrant but extremely patchy and unrefined coloration. Inkfish hatch with only one large suction cup per limb, only developing more several years into their growth cycle.

(*In the modern times, there are carrying cases for offspring. Or people that are more into DIY will just put their baby into a jar and take it to work.)

[The first 5 growth stages of a squid inkling. Paralarvae develop within translucent eggs until growing large enough to break out of the squishy casing, and grow slowly over the course of several years. Young inkfish are easily recognized from their small size, odd hands and entirely bright-colored bodies. The image above depicts roughly 12 years of development on average.]

Inkfish typically develop into their “crawler” stage within the first year since hatching. This is when the head separates from the torso, and the beak moves onto the front of the face. The four limbs of inkfish also become correctly aligned to the four corners of the body, although still underdeveloped. Crawlers are very curious and active as they train their body coordination.

The next stage to an inkfish’s life cycle is the “inklet”. Inklets are bipedal inkfish with very stubby bodies and limbs, though otherwise the anatomy is similar to a mature inkfish. In squidlings, inklets typically develop hunting tentacles at an early stage - crown tentacles develop later. Juvenile inkfish typically develop into inklets around three years of age, which is also when they learn to walk and typically talk. Inklets are also keen on copying adult inkfish in other ways, such as mimicking mannerisms, expressing interest in food choice and clothing, and mimicking speech.

The development from the “inklet” form of an inkfish into a mature one varies greatly by individual*. As a rule of thumb, the majority of juvenile inkfish will still be in their late paralarval stage - not having fully developed tentacles, hands or adult skin - by the time they’re 12. Juvenile inkfish are clumsy and live closely under the watchful eye of their parents and shoal, though they have historically been allowed to join hunts to watch and learn.

(*The age that inkfish aren't in their Baby Form anymore is generally presumed to be 14, but Sunken Scrolls depicting idols as just looking like miniature adults at a younger age make me believe that "adult hands" and "adult skin" are probably developed between 10 and 12 years old. Then again, Splatoon 2 Paul is supposedly 10. so you know, it could just be devs not knowing their own lore again.)

Adulthood

Most inkfish are recognized as being fully developed at the age of 14, which is the average age that an inkfish fully develops out of their paralarval stage, and also the age that a lot of kids ambitiously decide to become independent and/or famous. In the wild, inkfish at this age would typically leave their school and look for people to form a new one with. Mature inkfish have fully developed ink sacs and musculature, fully developed tentacles and limbs, and distinct adult skin, where chromatophores are sparse in large areas of the body. The age at which an inkfish is typically considered to be a proper adult is around 20. Throughout their teens, the bodies of inkfish will continue to change mostly in proportion and secondary characteristics, such as markings, papillae and claws, will develop. 

[Visual differences between a teenage inkfish (~14 years) and an adult inkfish (~20 years). Inkfish lose their patchy child pigmentation as they mature and grow larger, with longer limbs and crown tentacles. Teenage inkfish have proportionally large heads compared to adult inkfish, and tend to be very moody.]

Even after developing out of their juvenile stage, cephalings continue growing rapidly until they are young adults in their early 20’s. Each species has an average size that they will grow to around this timeframe, after which their growth slows down drastically. Although an inkfish’s growth slows down after they reach their adult size, they will continue growing for the majority of their life. This passive growth is very slow and can be very dependent on the environment - inkfish in more hostile environments tend to grow larger, while inkfish that don’t face many threats stay small in comparison. Aspects such as nutrition and genetics are of course to be taken into account.

For cephalopods, cephalings have incredibly long lifespans, with the average inkfish living up to 75 years old. In the wild, though, most cephalings are relatively low on the food chain, and as such cephalings of old often lived fast and died young due to the vast amount of predators. With modern technology, most of the issues of aging, such as muscle weakness and ink drought, can be combated.

Elderly Inkfish

The twilight years of an inkfish can usually be dictated from when their growth seemingly ends and the first cases of chromatophore sparsity start to occur. This occurs when chromatophores start dying out faster than they are replaced, causing an inkfish’s colors to dim, turn desaturated or become patchy. Ink production will slowly lessen and, in extremely old inkfish, dry up almost completely. Elderly inkfish will lose muscle and ink, which will shrink them in size quite rapidly. Usually, external mobility aids are required to maintain upright posture after a certain point, and canes continue to be one of the most popular options for inkfish who choose to keep up their bipedal form.

As a result of lack of structural support and the difficulty of maintaining their bipedal form, many elderly inkfish revert into spending all their time in swim form at a certain age. This is despite the fact their ink production rates are usually very low, if not nonexistent - it is still possible for elderly inkfish to absorb ink from external sources. Even so, the efficiency and capacity of the ink circulation system lessen over time, and in many cases introducing a lot of ink into the body with subpar ink pressure only introduces extra weight with very little benefit. As a result, many elderly inkfish may choose to be inkless to the point of sun-drying regularly.

[A direct comparison between a young adult inkfish and a very old inkfish. The physical effects of aging are quite gradual, but speed up considerably once ink production slows down to a crawl or stops completely. The apparent decrease in size can often be attributed to loss of muscle and thus changes in posture, driven largely by the lack of ink flow to support an upright posture, which causes the limbs and torso to fold.]

Elderly inkfish are typically washed-out in color; this is due to a combination of chromatophore decay and loss of ink production and retention. Not all inkfish achieve a state of complete bleaching, or even partial; though the effects of chromatophore loss may start as early as 30. In old inkfish, muscle decay often causes the crown tentacles to drop onto the face which in turn causes the eyes to pop out. Gill arches* are often visible in elderly inkfish due to loss of body mass.

(*Ribs. Here's your explanation for why the hell inkfish canonically have ribs.)

[undiscovered-horizon]

Amendmends - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[Part II]

[contains vulgar language]

SUMMARY: When two of your thugs get into a fight at the Slat, you have to go apologize in person. The owner seems suspiciously happy to have you indebted to him.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.9k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

“You did what?!”

The two men flinch. Feeling too humiliated to look the incandescent bull in the eye, they resort to twiddling their thumbs and riveting their gazes into the cracked, wooden floor. They’re not greenhorns and neither are they unfamiliar with your character, so it’s unclear why they ever thought this confrontation would go in any way differently. Perhaps some juvenile naivety told them this moment would, simply, never come.

“We got into a fight,” one of them repeats. Fear makes his voice waver, resounding a lot quieter than the first time he announced their misdeed. The humiliation only gnaws further at his heart as the boy involuntarily relives all of the reprimands he had received from his parents.

His partner in crime lets out a defeated sigh. The man nudges his friend and whispers: “Come on, Sorokin, she’ll know anyway.” With a sour expression on his face, he lifts his gaze to look at the woman standing behind the desk. Your nostrils are flared as you breathe hard trying to maintain composure. The unfaltering scowl you wear so well makes him gulp. “We started a fight at the Slat. One of the patrons was cheating, wasn’t even doing it very well, so we thought it was our civic duty to put it to a stop.��

You lean forward ever so slightly, hinging on your arms. Although you’re in all ways smaller than them, it doesn’t affect their fright:  wolves, after all, also seem not as big when they're preparing to pounce. Words leave your mouth like venom slowly dripping from a viper’s fangs: “You have no fucking civic duty on the Crows’ turf, you bellend.”

“Boss, we-”

Sorokin immediately stops talking when you raise your hand in a quieting gesture. You close your eyes and clench the raised hand into a fist. Only after a slow, deep breath can you continue:

“Just shut your mouth while you still can move it freely. I don’t care for your excuses and promises to do better because I’m the one who has to go to Kaz Brekker and apologize on your behalf.” You push yourself away from the decorative, engraved desk. Unknowingly, you’re shaking your head, looking away from the two bullyboys for a moment. In a gesture of frustration, you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Saints only know what he’ll want for giving up retaliation,” you say under your breath. A moment of tense, reflective silence goes by before your gaze returns to the two men. The scowl immediately reappears. “What’re you standing here for? Fuck off.”

With a flick of your wrist, the crooks bolt out the door, praising the Saints that they get to see another day. Maybe they are the ones scrubbing the floors pro bono for the next two weeks but at least they’re alive. Considering the genius loci of Ketterdam, that is as good as anything.

Jesper and Inej do not pay attention to the constant opening and closing of doors to the Slat - there’s no point. Their curiosity, however, is piqued when the noise of the lively club becomes muffled and cheering turns into low murmurs and grunts. Although positioned in completely different places, they simultaneously look towards the entrance, wondering what menace could strike reluctance into the heartless thugs of the Barell.

As expected as it wasn’t, considering the area, it’s a woman. In an utter lack of taste and respect for social etiquette, you’re dressed in rather expensive men’s clothing. You even have a decorative cane with a panther’s head on top, although the item is strangely short, suggesting that it’s more of a status symbol than a mobility aid. Golden accessories, proof of acquired wealth, glimmer in the low, yellow lights of the club. 

“Should we do something?” Inej whispers to Jesper, making him flinch in surprise. Really, how is she doing it time and time again?

“No way, Inej,” he laughs dryly at the notion. “It’s the Golden Panther herself. We’ve no bad blood with her and let’s hope it can stay that way.”

The name isn't in any way the stranger's own incentive - only what the victims saw right before being knocked out cold: golden, heavy rings and a black tattoo of a roaring panther on the back of your hand. Some of the more egotistic goons in Ketterdam try to mimic the artwork with other supposedly dangerous animals but it never has the same ominous feeling.

“Then why is she walking straight towards us?”

His gaze returns to the unexpected guest. Inej is right - in an unbothered stroll, you’re making your way to them. When the Panther’s stern, cold gaze meets his, the man feels anxiety building up in his chest. If Kaz had a sister, that would be her. In any other circumstances, he’d laugh at that thought but with the fiend in front of him, humour has somehow fled.

Jesper slowly puts down his drink, his other hand mindlessly resting on top of the revolver behind his belt. “I don’t know but I don’t like this.”

Inej scrunches her nose. "I always imagined it’s a man."

"Well, I thought she'd be, you know, bigger,” Jesper says in a hushed voice. The Slat is strangely quiet and you’re sure to hear his comment if he speaks any louder. “Considering Panther and all."

You stop in front of them. Physique-wise, you don’t seem very threatening to either of the Crows. No, it’s something in the air, as though your presence elicits some kind of aura that makes people want to flee from sight, noisy lowlifes become as meek as sheep. Jesper wonders if this is how aristocrats and politicians feel when someone mentions the Queen of Beggars.

Golden Panther looks between the two of them. In an unexpectedly polite fashion, both of your hands are holding the decorative cane. After a moment, your gaze stops on Jesper. You look him up and down but he’s unsure whether he should feel threatened or flattered.

“You’re the one who got into that fight yesterday, aren’t you?” you finally ask.

Oh, that.

Jesper grips the gun tighter. “Yeah, that would be me.”

You put your hand into the pocket of your dress trousers, apathetic eyes still set on him, and pull out a wad of banknotes. Without looking at them, never even thinking to count the amount, you lay it next to his drink on the bar counter.

“For the trouble. Buy yourself something nice. Where’s the owner?”

“In his office,” Jesper answers with a vague motion of his hand.

With a curt nod of your head, you leave the two Crows to find the man you’ve been truly looking for. When you’re out of earshot, the stairs creaking under your weight, Jesper turns to Inej:

“Did I just get pocket money from Lady Belladonna?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“I’m afraid you did.”

Immediately, he grabs the wad of cash, counting the banknotes. His eyes only grow wider as the stack of 50s doesn’t seem to end - Jesper Fahey is suddenly something of a rich man.

You don’t knock. The door swings open and Kaz is about to tell off anyone who’s disturbing him when he notices you standing on the threshold. Without a word of either warning or welcome, he grabs his cane. Twisting off the top of your staff, you pull the accessory slightly apart, revealing a sharp blade hidden inside.

“Show me yours, tough guy. Bet mine’s bigger,” you jest. Then you close the cane and Kaz, although hesitant, lets go of his. “I come in peace.” 

“What brings you here?” he asks impatiently.

You take a deep breath and sigh. The chair in front of him is left vacant but considering the reason for your visit, it would be impolite to sit around. “I’d like to apologize.” Kaz raises his eyebrows in surprise. He knows the business well enough to know that people of your sort don’t adhere to courtesy often. “The fight that broke out yesterday? My boys. They weren’t supposed to be here but that doesn’t change anything. What’s done is done and since they wear claws around their necks, they’re my responsibility.”

For a moment you look away, biting the inside of your cheek. It’s the right thing to do but Saints’ mercy, is it humiliating. Kaz doesn’t say anything, curious anticipation egging him to let the tense silence squeeze the truth out of you.

You look at him again. The anger of having to fawn on someone makes you tighten the grip on your cane. "I can pay you for the damages but I can't undo the injuries or the fucking headache. Instead, I'm offering you my service. One job, no matter how bloody insane, I'll do it. Just leave my boys alone."

Kaz sits back in his chair, taking in the fascinating turn of events. In all of your demimonde courtesy, you’ve done exactly what he had expected you to do. You swear there’s a shadow of a grin creeping unto his face and that’s when you realize you’ve probably manoeuvred yourself into a problematic, inescapable corner. If half of the stories they say about him are true, you’re going to shake hands with death herself in the nearest future, probably more than once.

A scoff flies past your lips. You look at him through squinted eyes but he doesn’t seem to mind that. Why would he? He just scored a jackpot without stepping out of his office.

“I know that look, Brekker,” you stress the sudden lack of courtesy. “You’ve been waiting for this moment your whole fucking life, haven’t you? The Golden Panther at your beck and call.”

“There is one job that will utilize your methods,” he puts a strange, although meaningful stress on the word, “but it’s nothing sure for now.”

He plays his cards well. So well, in fact, that you can’t tell whether he’s honest or bluffing. The only thing you are sure of is that if he lives up to his name, Kaz is bound to have some kind of ace up his sleeve, even if it’s unadulterated rage - he will either find or create a problem for you to solve, never as much as entertain the thought of passing up on your offer.

There is simply no way that a man of his skill and expertise doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. Like those miserable churchgoers praying to the Saints for a sign, you too now have to obediently await the fateful word of Kaz Brekker. You’re a fiddle and through your own goodwill, you have appointed him a fucking virtuoso.

“I’ll be anticipating your word, Brekker,” you grit the last bits of politeness through your teeth. “In the meantime, don’t try to think about me too often. Might neglect your business and the panther…” your voice trails off and you shrug with faux innocence, “The panther only needs to find you once.”

“It’s a bold assumption that I spend any minute of my time thinking about you.”

“Well, you’re doing it now, aren’t you?” The cocky smile on your face only annoys him. “До свидания,” you throw while vaguely saluting at him.

When the door shuts behind you, Kaz lets out a frustrated sigh. You’re going to make this whole operation incomparably easier for him - that is, if he doesn’t kills you first. For the sake of his sanity.

[dallasgallant]

Tough Slang |

I’ve been watching a lot of delinquent movies (I have recs) lately and I’ve started to collect the slang common in them. This is a “dictionary” that’s useful for writing but I’d still recommend looking up period or group specific slang yourself too, consider this a starting guide.

Primarily 50s-60s , mixed with general slang and relevant words.

Baby: Term of endearment [also used in Gay context]

Backseat bingo: Making out

Beat it: Go away

Belted: Beaten; Hurt

Bent car: Stolen car

Bit: Job; Robbery plan

Blade: Knives [typically switchblade]

Blast: Good time

Bop: Kill

Boss: Liked man of authority

Box job: Safe cracking

Break it up: Stop fighting

Broad: Woman

Bug: Bother

Bugging: Freaking out; Tripping

Bulls: Cops

Bum: To get by asking or begging; Vagrant

Bunk: Sleep with ; Share a prison cell

Candy ass: Coward

Can opener: Tools capable of breaking open safe

Can: Prison

Cheese it: Stop what you’re doing; Look out

Cherry: Good looking/condition [typically a car, sometimes a person]

Chicken: Coward

Cool it: Calm down

Cooler: Prison

Con: Convict; Swindle

Copped: Had the cops called on; Ratted out

Cranked: High; Drunk

Crash: Stay/sleep at someone’s place

Crazy: Deranged ; Enthusiastic about something

Cut the gas: Get to the point; shut up

Deck: Box of ciggerettes; To punch

Dibs: Laying claim on something

Dig: to understand; to like something

Dive: Low down place

Flat: Broke

Flip: Panic

Freak out: Wild/irrational reaction or behavior

Fry: Executed by electric chair

Fuzz: Police

Gas: Fun or cool

Get bent: Get lost; Go fuck yourself

Get lost: Go away

Greaser: Young man with greased hair, usually of lower class , gang affiliation or juvenile delinquent

Hang: Gather together with no expressed purpose

Hang loose: Relax; Take it easy

Happenin’: Exciting/Lively/Busy ; With the times

Heat: Police

Heater: Gun

Headshrinker: Shrink; therapist

Hip: With it; Understand; Cool

Hoodlum/hood: Trouble maker; Criminal

Jam: in trouble; Cram something

JD: Juvenile delinquent

Jive: Agree with someone

Jug: Prison

Jumped: Attacked without warning; Beaten

Keen: Eager; Enthusiastic

Lay off: Leave alone

Lifer: Someone serving a life sentence

Loaded: Drunk; Armed [Depending on context]

Lone it: Do something on ones own

Loiter: Stand or wait around without purpose; hang out

Man: Colloquialism for emphasis or familiarity 

Neato: Neat; Excellent; Exciting

Nance: Efféminent guy/Gay

Pack: Carry some sort of weapon

Pad: Where someone lives

Pansy: Efféminent guy/Gay

Paper shaker: Cheerleader

Pops: Affectionate term for an older man

Punk: Hoodlum

Rat: to tell on

Reefer: Weed; Marijuana

Rod: Gun

Rumble: Organized fight

Scram: Go away

Scum: Despicable person

Shiner: A black eye

Sock: Punch

Skin: Fight with no weapons

Slug: Bullet ; Hit

Stay cool: Remain calm ; control yourself

“Give some skin”: High five or handshake

Spill: Tell information

Split: Leave ; Get out fast

Square: Uninteresting person; Someone never in trouble with law

Stuck: Stabbed [in context]

Sucker : Gullible person; Someone who was conned

Swingin’ : Exciting ; Hip ; throwing punches [in context]

Tanked: Drunk

“The man”: Figure of authority keeping systems in place [Oppressive] ; One who maintains status quo

Turf: Territory

War council: Meeting between organized gangs to work out issues or plan a fight

Waste: Kill

Weed: Cigarette

Whipped: Beaten

[silly-fox-in-sox]

Breeders Cup Classic winner Sierra Leone

Some 2024 Breeders Cup thoughts:

Distaff: The distaff lost so much luster when first Idiomatic and then Awesome Result came out of the field, but Thorpedo Anna's complete domination was still a beautiful sight to see. She's gotta be the horse of the year, right?

Classic: Sierra Leone may have won the Classic, but Fierceness ran the best race - he helped set a wicked pace that melted down while Sierra Leone got the perfect setup for his big late kick. Forever Young was probably too close to that hot pace as well, but he still ran a solid 3rd. City of Troy had not shot after a bad break and poor Next was not prepared for such a hot pace.

Filly & Mare Sprint: Soul of An Angel is such a cool horse, and I'm pretty sure with 41 starts, she's the most experienced runner in the entire Breeders Cup. It was really something to see her swoop in from dead last to just get to the wire first.

Mile: Love, love, love to see More Than Looks get the big win here for a bunch of reasons - he's a gorgeous horse, he's trained by an easy trainer to root for in Cherie Devaux, he's been unlucky all year and finally got the right set up, he was the only American to win a BC race on the grass... this one made me really happy. Double happy that my West Coast boy Johannes held onto second

Juvenile Fillies: Immersive looks like a potential monster for next year

Turf: I did my best handicapping in this one and would have cashed some nice tickets if I hadn't overlooked Rousham Park. Rebel's Romance has turned into such a cool, globe-trotting horse to root for. He's a gelding so I wonder if we'll get to enjoy watching him another year. I didn't see it on the track feed, but heard later about the loss of Jayarebe from a heart attack right after the race. So heart breaking; I've seen posts from his connections and you could really see how much they loved him.

Filly & Mare Turf: Moira rolling to a decisive win here was so fun. I've been a fan of the Canadian horse of the year since she won the Queen's Plate 2 years ago, and fell more in love after she won the Beverly D ( a race I love, even if it's not at Arlington anymore)

[es46]

A carapaceon that evokes mantis shrimps, massive lobsters, and the notion of hydrothermal environments - METAMOR-DECA Title - Hyperthermal crab Monster class - Carapaceon Known locales - Locales rich in magma/lava upwellings, occasional forays to mountainous environments Element/Ailment - Soiled + Dragon + Fire Elemental weakness - Ice (3), Water (3), Dragon (2), Thunder (0), Fire (0) Ailment weakness - Paralysis (3), Sleep (3), Poison (1), Stun (0), Blast (0) Metamor-Deca is a carapaceon known to inhabit environments where magma upwellings are prominent, though occasionally venturing to mountainous terrain. Recognised by its burly frame, with enormous chelipeds modified into club-like structures and a flexible abdomen that swings a cudgel-like end, Metamor-Deca coats its shell in volcanic material. The reinforced carapace and sturdy limbs enable excellent defensive integrity, with its head defended by spear-like antennae and its second and fifth pair of limbs adjusted for delicate handling. Predominantly a herbivore, feeding on the few plant and lichen species able to survive close to lava flows, Metamor-Deca is also known to be an effective lithophage, easily ingesting many inorganic materials. They tend to gravitate to rich mineral upwellings, where they may also harvest rock and gems to affix to their reddish-black shells and bolster their defences. Because of their defensive integrity, Metamor-Deca is rarely bothered by other creatures, and it is perfectly tolerant of humans in close proximity. However, any motion towards its current favoured food supply can be interpreted as thievery, goading the carapaceon to lash out. Researchers must pay close attention to their surroundings when observing Metamor-Deca and remain very still if they feel it is agitated. As expected, Metamor-Deca relies on its hard shell to fend off the few monsters that would dare attack it. Waste products from its plant diet accumulate in pores below its carapace and can be released as a noxious gas, augmented by ashen materials affixed to its rocky coating. But if the enemy persists, Metamor-Deca will charge its limbs with dragon energy and lash out with the blunt abdomen and pincers. If even this is not enough, Metamor-Deca will enrage and enter what is called a Molten State. Its dragon energy superheats its body, destroying its rocky coating whilst raising its mobility. Now venting heat able to induce a Fire effect, Metamor-Deca attacks with incredible ferocity, though this Molten State cannot be maintained for long. Metamor-Deca tend to live solitary lives, defending their turf vehemently against rivals, but when the time comes to reproduce, the carapaceons migrate to mountainous environments. There, the adults mate with any compataible partner and then bury the eggs before leaving them to their fate. The young that emerge have specialised membranes on their second and fifth limbs that allow them to glide, letting them travel their environment in search of food with ease. Eventually these membranes will atrophy as the juveniles reach adulthood, coaxing them to leave the mountains and seek out lava flows. Metamor-Deca is renowned as an apex in its environment (Low Rank - 5, High/Master Rank - 4) and so presents a formidable challenge. When facing it in its shelled form, hunters should focus on its more vulnerable joints and abdomen, baiting its powerful attacks to leave it open. Once the beast is enraged and enters its Molten State, water and ice weapons will prove effective at inducing temperature shock. Pitfall traps are not effective against Metamor-Deca, who easily climbs free, but shock traps can stymie it. As expected of such a heavily armoured creature, Metamor-Deca has very few enemies, beyond exceptional specimens such as Deviljho or Teostra. One consistent rival, surprisingly, is the piscine wyvern Daemona Xocoe, which may prey on juvenile Metamor-Deca. Adults that encounter this foe thus attack it with extreme prejudice. - Thank you for reading and take care.

[lime-bucket]

Cain headcanons if he was in hazbing hotel

-cain is completely desensitized to the exterminations.sure at first he was enraged & assumed that adam & lucifer were targeting him sepecifically by slaughtering his descendents as some kind of punishment but he realized how unlikely that is.still he never moved to fight against the angels becuz what can he do alone?

-Cain is like a glitch in the system,since he entered hell before many of its rules were established,not much of its world limitations work on him.wich means he could travel between the rings of hell,but he prefers to spend his time in the wrath ring working on a farm he owns or traveling in the vast fiery deserts.

-He regards all the sinners as juveniles,no matter how old their time periods.as well as having a "too old fr this shit" mentality toward turf wars & the general chaos in hell wich is why he never participates in it.

-personality wise hes like a lone wolf,always stoic & serious but his actions bounce from flawless self control to engaging in self destructive behaviours.

-cain got severe trust issues.he might act well polite toward any person but he wont stop fr a sec doubting their true intentions.on top of that he keeps everyone at arms length

-hell gouge out the eyes of anyone who dares making Alabama joke to him,fortunately that doesnt occure often as cain tends to keep a low profile & he never reveals his real name to ppl.

-the only group cain made sure to know his name r the overlords,cuz they see him as a red line ever since one time a cocky overlord tried to fool him to giving in his soul,so in return cain gruesomely killed him & used magic to keep their corpse burning fr weeks,afterwards he hunted down every single sinner who was working under the overlord & killed them in same manner.

[smarty-jones]

Lake Victoria wins the 2024 Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf

(x)

[humanitys-last-call]

[A letter was put into the mailbox. On the envelope, besides the mailing information, there was a silly sticker. The message reads as follows. ]

Dear new neighbor Denewiah Tartarus,

Welcome to Inkopolis Square! I'm really excited to write this, because maybe you don't know much about this place! No need to worry, though, because I can fill you in! In the center of the square, in front of this mailbox, is the Deca Tower, where all the older kids go to play turf war with each other. It's really fun, I think. I'm really close to being old enough to do that myself, in fact! Moving on, to the left of the tower is that Grizzco place, where sometimes the big kids go to earn money. Back toward the subway, there's a big row of shops that sell hats and shirts and shoes and other stuff too! There's a food truck that sells fried things, and I really wanna try a schwaffle from there sometime soon! I don't actually literally live in the square, just really close to it.

Here's what I look like, by the way! If you see me in person, say hi! [Attached was a photo of a young inkling, around 12 or 13 years of age.]

Oh, one more thing! If you feel like writing back, could you give me your address so I can send a housewarming gift, or maybe even visit? I'd appreciate it, and I think you'd appreciate it too! At least the gift-getting, I hope. If you see me around, don't be a stranger, ok?

Your neighbor, Penny

[This letter looks so clearly hand-written by an overly friendly middle schooler. It's very juvenile and very sincere. 🐙]

"...

...

Interesting.

It would appear as though a juvenile is attempting to communicate with me."

"Now, dear listeners, I wonder. What sort of responsible Inkling parent would permit their precious child to go and send mail to the scary stranger man who presumably hides within the forsaken metro?

The correct answer is none. Every day, I am shocked by the lack of survival instincts within your species. Such grave incompetence shall lead only to death. [PROJECTED CRUDE MORTALITY RATE: APPROXIMATELY 8,500 FOR EVERY 10,000. CALCULATIONS GENEROUS. 15% MARGIN OF ERROR.]

I do not wish to consort with mere children. Our communication shall be terminated, effective immediately."

A chair creaks. A conversation carries in the distance.

"Wakapi. If we are to receive any more mail from this address, kindly dispose of it before it even has a chance to enter my office."

"Doesn't that seem a little... unnecessary? It's only some silly ki-."

"I expect silence from you, young lady."

"..."

The heavy boot steps trod away.

[horseracingweekly]

Congratulations to our Breeders Cup Juvenile Turf Sprint Champion, MAGNUM FORCE (IRE)!

📸 @/eclipsesportswire on IG

[porterdavis]

Juvenile Turf Sprint

This is the 'blink-and-you'll-miss-it' race, five-eighths of a mile on grass for 2 year-olds (the babies). I don't know anything about this horse other than he apparently went six furlongs in 1:07¹, which is an eyelash short of the world record.

This is Japan's year. (I feel a little sorry for the race caller)

[eye-of-enigmatic-thought]

[Note: Image description is in the alt text of the images due to its length. Let me know if writing them down on the post's description is more preferred!]

Finally a proper reference for Squalo! My big bigender mob boss! :D

A large, loud, and powerful kingpin with the muscle and goons to prove it, anyone who lives in the coasts knows Squalo's name with both respect and fear. Known for her brutality in beating down anyone trying to cross her, if even her ferocious strength in her already large human form can't bring you down, the bite force of her full shark monster form would do the trick.

Squalo's gang is mostly comprised of fellow aquatic mutants like him, and they mostly work in the distribution of illegal goods, weaponry and protection of his turf. A quick way to make him an enemy is to start illegally fishing and poaching in his waters and harming anyone under his protection, you'll be made an example of fast.

Despite this intimidating reputation however, those under Squalo's protection consider him caring and fair, and he prefers to have more healthy connections through friendship and support instead of just plain fear. Even if someone isn't able to pay up, she'd be more inclined to support them to be able to pay back the money, and is overall very fair in business and always goes by her word.

When not in the mobster business, Squalo can be very affable and sweet, and he even has the habit of taking in juveniles to help care for them and train them to be tough fighters, one of which even being Marmo, who was taught everything he knew by Squalo. Marmo even sees Squalo as a parental figure and the two have a healthy parent-son relationship, and the two often visit each other.

[dogtoling]

Biology of Inkfish - Social Habits

All cephaling species share somewhat similar social lives. Squidlings, the most studied cephalings, form shoals of a dozen individuals in the wild, with hunting and defending the shoal’s territory being a team effort. Cephalings have incredibly advanced social circles with verbal and visual communication both by spoken language and body language involving body gestures and rapid color change. All inklings are social creatures that thrive inside a community or small group; a lone inkling is quite powerless when faced against a predator and will likely perish shortly. The form that these communities or groups take vary between species, however - while inkfish and especially squidlings form active packs that hunt and migrate together, octolings in contrast tend to stick to a general area, building dens in the vicinity of other octolings in the group but not necessarily cooperating more than necessary. Many inkless cephalings are solitary in adulthood and, in contrast to inkfish, are often not territorial.

Inkfish typically form shoals consisting of the same species, though even historically there have been cases of shoals “adopting” individuals of other species into the group. While it used to be generally more common for other species, especially those traveling alone, to be hunted and preyed upon by pre-established shoals, it has been since established that cross-species shoals were more common than initially thought. Benefits of including other species of inkfish in a shoal vary - most often the adoptee inkfish would be of a larger species, offering protection and intimidation from potential predators and other large inkfish while enjoying the safety of a group itself. Smaller species’ inclusion in shoals was often due to their inclusion as juveniles, often adopted by brooding or juvenile-raising females with strong maternal instinct. The mimic octopus is a particular species that benefits from this, not forming shoals of its own species but rather mimicking other ones and inserting itself in schools of larger and more robust or dangerous octolings.

[A shoal of squid inklings hibernating over winter. All individuals of a shoal would typically withdraw into a shelter to camp out for the winter and huddle in a pile in order to share body heat. This method granted them a notably higher survival rate over cold periods than of solitary competitors.]

Inkfish shoals consisted of roughly 10 individuals living in a small community, all sporting the same tentacle color to signal their alliance. Hunting groups and teams taking part in territory fights with other shoals were typically teams of three or four cephalings. Territory in the wild times was marked by covering the shoal’s area with the ink of their corresponding color. Claiming other shoals’ turf by painting over their ink was very common, which would often spark fights between shoals. In the modern day, cephalings continue to be a very social group, being part of large societies and often having a small group of select individuals as their “shoal”. Squid are very keen on affiliating themselves with other individuals, and many friend groups share a common tentacle color to seal the deal.

Stemming from their territory-keeping upbringing as a species group, even modern inkfish tend to be quite competitive and combative in certain circumstances. This battling instinct is especially pronounced in teenagers and young adults. To combat this instinct and reduce the amount of violent incidents within society, Turf Wars reign as a popular sport held to simulate the action and help with venting excess energy.

[vivanightcity]

Name: Adiel Miller

Age: 27

Gender: None, they barely align with ‘human’ fuck having a gender. 

Pronouns: Any and all, with a personal love for ‘it/its’, a sort of reclamation of the dehumanizing language it was raised with. (Practically, you can mix and match, or just pick one and use it, it’s all good)

Lifepath: Streetkid 

Occupation: Doll at a dollhouse that works with a number of corpo hotels and short term rental style hotels in Downtown. Can be found in a number of BDs still knocking about though. 

Cyberware: Doll chip, prototype long term behavioral chip, scratchers and big knucks (reinforced nails and knuckles that are concealable and look like standard human parts) 

Sexuality: People hot. That’s about it. 

Born and raised in NYC. Their parents worked themselves to the bone to get by and take care of him, but it was always a struggle. Maybe the city wasn’t as bad as Night City is now, but it was still a far cry from safe or easy. When it was around 15, and already getting into trouble and running around acting like he had a damn clue, Arasaka (subject to change what corp, I just thought it tied in with their vibe) started contacting parents of minors with records. Offering them an opportunity. A bright future and a new start for their son, get them out of trouble and away from bad influences before things get worse. All it took was signing away its bodily autonomy and they got a good payout and one less mouth to feed. 

They were testing out some more long term behavioral chips targeted at wealthy families, a hopefully safer and more useful version of what was already in use in juvenile correction facilities. A fully customizable range, as much or as little control as wanted across a host of 'problem' behaviors. Even focused on pushing manners and etiquette. It could dissuade kids from indulging, make them obey their parents without question, or just give them a ‘helping hand’ in sitting still and focusing on school. A replacement for conversion therapy, fat camps and drugs, all in one easy package that could be installed when your kid went in for routine work. They never needed to know! But of course that sort of work needed thorough testing before going to market with people who could afford it, and having empirical proof of its efficacy was always good for marketing. 'This wonderful neuralware could make even the worst kids act like a child you'd be happy to have next to you at for press conferences and family dinners'.

A controlled environment, classes to show the improvement rate of those with the chip and those without. Little corrections to strength of influence, fine tuning and fixing it up as they went. So what if some other kids never came back from the surgery room? Price of progress. They’d do big demonstrations pretty frequently, every few months, showing off test scores, video comparisons of posture, attitude, vocabulary use, antisocial behaviors etc. etc. Then the suits visiting would get a chance to interact. To test the parameters themselves, screaming abuse or even pushing whatever sorry sack was chosen for the demo around, proving that these kids - most of which, like Adiel, had some history of violence - would never argue back to those they were told to obey. 

Few short years later, Adiel was around 18, everything seemed golden. Working as intended. Even kids they took the chips out of, or turned them off in the case of some earlier models which couldn’t be safely removed, didn’t seem to be suffering the same level of addiction and withdrawal as seen in traditional behavioral chips on the market. There wasn’t NONE, but it was a manageable amount comparatively. At that point, they turfed everyone out, loosed unto a world they’d been isolated from for a few years, and in the case of a fair number of them, stuck with various degrees of control still implanted in them. ‘A reward for their help’. Saying it would help them stay on the straight and narrow, when really, in the world around them, it just set them up to be manipulated and controlled.

They put protections on the hardware, and the software was heavily encoded. No one Adiel has gone to for help has been able to safely remove it, and the rumor was that someone who tried triggered some sort of anti piracy/corpo espionage failsafes and them and the ripperdoc ended up mulch. Even after it entered the market during Arasaka’s big push in the early 2070s to get back in with the NUSA and free states money, it took money to access the kind of docs who had it on the shelves, and even when he scraped together enough it turned out what they had going was different enough from the market release that it was still a risk. 

So it’s still there. Nearly ten years and a cross country relocation later. Despite everything it went through because of Arasaka, they are the reason he moved to NC. When the city became the international hub it was, and Arasaka’s new north american headquarters, Adiel figured it was their best chance. Get back on their radar, get a foot in that door, and get the damned thing removed or turned off so they could get back to some semblance of a normal life where they doesn’t have to avoid everyone in white coats, expensive suits, or decked out in arasaka combat armor. Eventually, Addy was able to get hired. Went in for a physical and for them to check its doll chip and make sure he didn’t have any sort of spyware installed, made the mistake of telling the doc checking it over what was up, and got sent away with the promise they’ll look into it… Only he woke up the next day to a termination message. No more arasaka job, no more answers, no more way in. 

And that leads us to here. Burnt out from working non stop to get to NC and then get in with Arasaka, only for it to fall apart. Found working as a doll and sticking to hobbies far away from armed guards, docs and corpos, was the best way to control when he was near people who could fuck with him. Then the fancy suits were already paying for their time, and they didn’t have to remember doing what they said. 

One of the only good things that came out of his time with Arasaka was the opening of doors and access to education and the time to explore. Where it grew up there weren’t any stars visible. Even outside of the city the most you could see were satellites that were near enough to shine through light pollution. Getting to see stars, not only as they used to be, but through flicks and even BDs from orbit. To feel so small was freeing. Getting there is something it longs to do. 

Any sort of hobby or task that can be repeated methodically, over and over, to practice and perfect, is the kind of thing Adiel leans into. Repetition, focusing so completely onto the task over and over, helps to calm it down, to think things through. Worryingly, he’s not sure if this was always the case, or if it’s yet another side effect. One that can have it so completely wrapped up in a drill that they don't stop to rest or eat or anything until made to. Shifting that focus sucks, and getting pulled out of it can be jarring and stressful. 

A side effect of the behavioral chip is a sort of mirroring. His posture, inflection, language use, it seems to shift and alter depending on who it’s talking to. Reacting to the people around it to fit in. Well. He thinks it’s a side effect, it could also just be a survival method because of how he grew up.