#Specimen 03

[fandomfuntimem]

A follow up comic to this

Left -> right

First time I've ever done a full comic page. This is what i planned for the one shot to end with.

I'll probably do this au in different directions. But if the story were to end with this this is where I think it would go.

[phayz]

-dances like this in your inbox-

we should do this in REAL LIFE ‼️

[alphynix]

April Fools 2024: The Curious Case Of The Chunky-Necked Ceratopsians

Much like the aquatic Compsognathus featured here a couple of years ago, not every novel idea that came out of the Dinosaur Renaissance was a winner.

And one of the oddest examples came from author/illustrator John C. McLoughlin.

His 1979 book Archosauria: A New Look at the Old Dinosaur featured an unusual interpretation of ceratopsian dinosaurs' characteristic bony frills, proposing that they were actually muscle attachment sites for both powerful jaw muscles and enormous back muscles to help hold up their large heavy heads. This would have completely buried the frill under soft tissue, giving the animals massive thick necks and humped shoulders, and resulted in an especially weird reconstruction of Triceratops with a grotesque sort of wrinkly sewn-together appearance.

This concept didn't entirely originate from McLoughlin – three years earlier in 1976 he'd illustrated Ronald Paul Ratkevich's book Dinosaurs of the Southwest, which seems to have been the inspiration for Archosauria's fleshy-frilled ceratopsians. A few paleontologists had also proposed jaw muscles attaching onto the frills during the 1930s and 1950s, and there's even a book from as far back as 1915 that also shows the top of a Triceratops' frill connected to its back! But McLoughlin's Archosauria image is still by far the most extreme and infamous version of the idea.

There were a lot of things in Archosauria that were actually very forward-thinking for the time period, such as putting fuzz and feathers on small theropods and depicting non-avian dinosaurs as active fast-moving animals. The unique ceratopsian reconstructions, however, never caught on for several big reasons:

Firstly, all that hefty muscle tissue would have locked ceratopsians' heads firmly in place, unable to move at all, which just doesn't make sense biomechanically. Then there was the lack of skeletal evidence – muscles that big should have left huge visible attachment scars all over the frill bones, and there was no sign of anything like that on any fossil specimens. Finally, it turns out the ceratopsian head-neck joint was actually highly mobile, suggesting their heads were free to make a wide range of motions in life.

As wrong as they were even at the time, McLoughlin's ceratopsians were still an interesting speculative idea, and notable for advocating for fleshier dinosaur reconstructions at a time when paleoart was trending towards shrinkwrapping.

Further reading under the cut:

A Very Alternative View of Horned Dinosaur Anatomy, Revisited – https://tetzoo.com/blog/2020/11/22/alternative-view-of-horned-dinosaur-anatomy

Trope of the Buffalo-Backed Dinosaur – https://tetzoo.com/blog/2020/11/27/trope-of-the-buffalo-backed-dinosaur

Vintage Dinosaur Art: Archosauria - Part 3 – https://chasmosaurs.blogspot.com/2013/10/vintage-dinosaur-art-archosauria-part-3.html

Vintage Dinosaur Art: Dinosaurs of the Southwest – https://chasmosaurs.blogspot.com/2016/11/vintage-dinosaur-art-dinosaurs-of.html

The Forgotten John C. McLoughlin Book – https://www.manospondylus.com/2021/03/the-forgotten-john-c-mcloughlin-book.html

[rattyexplores]

10/09/21 - Photos 1-2 - C. baehrae

04/03/23 - Photos 3-4 - C. bitaeniata

24/11/23 - Photos 5-6 - C. thalassina

23/06/23 - Photos 7-8 - C. micarioides (different specimens)

So far, these are the four species of Cosmophasis I've come across. Lovely iridescent jumping spiders.

10/09/21-24/11/23 - Cosmophasis spp.

QLD:WET-BRB

[luxury-nightmare]

mom says it’s my turn on the writing

(I haven’t written for Doai but I haven’t seen much new stuff for the Sitcom Au and I refuse to let the flame die out)

For the first time in years, Dr. Hebert Lankmann had no control over the situation.

Sirens blared across the asylum, bathing it in red as the doctor rushed down the hall. He didn’t look back, he couldn’t look back, because he knew what was behind him, and he didn’t have the luxury of not knowing who it was.

Alex Willams. Specimen 03. The immune. That damned employee to nosy for their own good. Lankmann needed to know what made them immune, for the good of Eastridge and all of humanity.

(And maybe to cure his own sickness)

This was not what he expected.

Velidgun conversion was unheard of before Alex. The idea that a human could become one of those creatures had never crossed the doctor’s mind and he cursed himself for not seeing the signs sooner. How Alex seemed tired since inviting the Demon into their home, the frailty, the eyes.

But he hadn’t. And here they were, Demon chasing Human, as it should be.

Something grabbed his ankle, he didn’t look down, he just kept running. It pulled, causing him to fall. He scrambled to get back up, but it dragged him towards his pursuer. Lankmann finally got a good look at the thing, green and striped and sharp. A tail.

Something hit him on the side of the head, blood pooling from the wound. Alex went in for another hit, but the doctor swung his hands up to block it. “Alex please!” He cried, staring up at them. Far to many eyes looked down at him, crooked and yellow and staring down from a face covered in shadow.

Alex went in for another hit. Lankmann threw his hands up to block again, but missed, and they hit again. Lankmann got a look at their weapon, where the hell did they get a crowbar?

Thwack. Obsidian black claws gripped the crowbar, a purple eye staring back at the doctor from the back of the palm

Thwack. The tail dug deeper into his ankle, spines drawing blood.

Thwack. Wings, green as the forest, blocked Lankmann’s vision.

“Alex, we can be reasonable about this!” Thwack. The crowbar hit the side of his head again, forcing him back. His back hit the wall.

“Please Alex, I can give whatever you need!” A pause. Alex didn’t lower their crowbar.

“Let them go”

Lankmann paused. Alex’s voice was clearly stolen, like most Velidgun, but not from another person. It sounded identical to the silly cartoon Lankmann that was shown around the facility in training tapes. Alex did the voice for those right?

“Patient 66, Mortimer, Kruger, Winfrey, everyone. Let them free”

Lankmann paused, that last name. “Specimen 02-“

“It’s NAME” Alex interrupted “is Winfrey”

“You know I can’t do that Alex, those things are to dangerous-“

Thwack. The crowbar came down onto the doctor’s head once more, and as he looked up at the Velidgun before him, he knew he had sealed his fate as a dead man.

“Wrong Answer”

it’s jarring, to hear your own voice repeated back at you

Thwack

Thwack

Thwack

Lankmann looked back up at his attacker, but looking back at him wasn’t Alex Willams.

Looking back at him was the Angel of Silence

Angel of Silence idea was from @secret-spirit, and the overall idea was inspired by @redleaderdemon fic

[leasthaunted]

Episode 113: The ABC's of BBC's

Do unknown giant felids stalk the moors of Great Britain? Do Scottish sheep have something else to fear on the shores of Loch Ness? Do cats recognize the monarchy? This time wildlife biologist and Least Haunted's resident "Cryptid Hunter" Carolyn joins us once again to take a look at the mystery of Alien Big Cats.

Check out the images below discussed in this week's episode and please come join the episode discussion on the Least Haunted Discord!

Scottish Wildcat, the native wild cat of the British Isle (learn more about them and what threatens them at https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/trees-woods-and-wildlife/animals/mammals/scottish-wildcat/)

Kellas cat, a hybrid of Scottish Wildcats and domestic cats, inspiration for the folklore of cat-sìth ('fairy cat') (taxidermy specimen from the University of Aberdeen Collection)

Felicity (mountain lion remains pictured below) is an example of a released wild cat that was believed to have formerly been someone's pet who was released into the wild. Why did they think she used to be a pet? She enjoyed being tickled and preferred processed foods. When she was caught, she was taken to live out the rest of her life at Highland Wildlife Park in Kincraig where she was named Felicity.

An example of meow-staken identity: https://nypost.com/2024/04/03/us-news/cmountain-lion-on-security-camera-turns-out-to-be-cat-police/

Finally, the only alien cat we believe in at LH HQ is Jake the cat from The Cat From Outer Space. Go watch this movie and believe in Jake too!

[courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme]

The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997, Steven Spielberg)

19/03/2024

The Lost World: Jurassic Park is a 1997 film directed by Steven Spielberg, sequel to Jurassic Park and inspired by the novel The Lost World by Michael Crichton.

The franchise continued with Jurassic Park III (2001), Jurassic World (2015), Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018) and Jurassic World Dominion (2022).

Four years have passed since the dramatic events at Jurassic Park. Professor Ian Malcolm, one of the survivors, is contacted again by the now ex-head of InGen, John Hammond, and informed that Isla Nublar, the place where the park stood, was in reality just a showcase for tourists. In fact, the prehistoric creatures were actually created on nearby Isla Sorna, the so-called "Site B" where, following the destruction of the fences caused by the hurricane called Clarissa, they were able to escape from their cages and live undisturbed without the whole world knowing, but now the target of her greedy and corrupt nephew, Peter Ludlow, eager to plunder her to recreate a "city Jurassic Park" in San Diego. At first Malcolm, knowing the very high risks, declines the proposal but, discovering that his girlfriend, the paleontologist Sarah Harding, has already gone to the place, he decides to leave immediately to bring her back, aided by the photographer Nick Van Owen and the engineer Eddie Carr.

Not long after Peter Ludlow, together with a team of hunters led by Roland Tembo, arrives on Isla Sorna to begin the capture of some dinosaurs and in particular, an adult male specimen of Tyrannosaurus rex.

After a day's march, Dieter Stark, Tembo's deputy, loses his life in the jungle, devoured alive by the small Compsognathus and that same night the camp is attacked by T-Rexes, attracted by the smell of the puppy's blood left impregnated on the jacket by Sarah. In the general escape, the hunting team crosses an expanse of tall grass falling victim to an ambush by seven Velociraptors; despite this, Ian, Sarah, Nick and Kelly manage to reach the communications center, where Nick requests reinforcements from the mainland while the others have to deal with the Raptors.

Jeff Goldblum is Professor Ian Malcolm: a mathematician expert in chaos theory. He is, together with Hammond (and with the exception of the children, who only appear in a brief cameo), the only main character from the first chapter to also reappear in the sequel. At the end of the first film, Malcolm managed to escape from Isla Nublar, and during these four years he revealed the facts of Jurassic Park to the public.

Julianne Moore is Dr. Sarah Harding, Ian Malcolm's girlfriend.

[bluepeachstudios]

Favorite headcanon you have for each turtle? (Both the Rise and 03 sets I’d love to hear them both). Also do you have any really niche or ridiculously specific headcanons that you don’t see a lot of other people having but personally adore? Be it events, character traits, backstory quirks, etc.

Personally for me I like to think that Draxum bred/hatched turtles in his lab so he would have perfect specimens for his project. As a result, the turtles actually have recorded hatch days in addition to knowing their mutation day, which they probably found out once they were on better terms with him.

Leo and Donnie hatched on the same day. Donnie is never living the twin allegations down. His compensation is hatching five minutes before Leo did (and being very disgruntled when he was only minutes old and suddenly had another baby turtle climbing all over him)

(Keep Scrolling anon)

God I literally have so many headcanons I can't even sort them properly in my head?? I love these headcanons though, very cute.

I've talked before about my 2003 Age Role headcanons. I have a headcanon that was originally @pileofpawns (I BELIEVE???) where 2003 Mikey couldn't figure out his music player so he's just been jamming to royalty free music that was already on the player this whole time. I find that amusing. I like it. Very Mikey-esque.

I headcanon 2003 Leo as absolutely horrible at cooking, 03 Donny also is (apparently canonically he cannot work a cooker to save his life which I found out recently) though I like to believe Donny got banned from the kitchen because he kept taking stuff apart instead of cooking. I see him more of a baking boy.

2003 Raph is an extrovert and no one will convince me otherwise !!! As much as he wants to be a lone wolf, he makes literally the most amount of friends in the show besides Mikey. LEO'S THE LONE WOLF IRONICALLY? I headcanon that it has something to do with the fact that he was manipulated by Shredder at the beginning of the show, and has a harder time trusting others unless his brothers do first. Donny's pretty friendly and makes a lot of friends as well.

2003 Donny has autism, Leo has OCD, Mikey has ADHD, and Raph has intermittent explosive disorder. Raph's far-sighted. They're all ace! Raph and Donny are both aro. Mikey's pan and Leo's gay. I generally headcanon Raph and Leo as cis, Mikey as genderfluid and Donny as nonbinary (usually agender). I do absolutely. LOVE trans Raph, "Ell" though, by @20s-turtle-posting. That's not really a headcanon I just love Ell.

For Rise, I feel like I have a lot of the usual ones? Like, Donnie's the older twin, Leo's the team medic (and also still can't cook), Leo's got insomnia, they basically all have one, the other, or a mix of adhd and autism.

I also have Raph's got dyslexia. I don't have any specific queer headcanons because I like a bunch of different ones, it tends to switch around depending on the vibe.

I haven't rolled the Rise boys around in my head for as long as 2003 so I don't know all of my headcanons for them fhgjdgh they pretty much all pop up in GitS though.

[ultragift]

FROM: @denn1s-lessing

TO: @hmmbo

denn1s-lessing - tumblr - Ultragift

Heroes

You’re in yet another elevator room, having just explored the first part of Greed. As Sisyphus told you and you’ve expected, the Layer looks nothing like Dante's haunting yet beautiful description; the only thing that was Inferno-related were the boulders, and even then they only dragged those around, and even then they were dead Malicious Faces, really. It just wasn’t the same thing. You start to think you’re in for more artistic disappointment.

You also feel very bitter and very angry; between constant restarts, unfixable injuries and having to re-learn how to use your weapons after accidentally deleting the wrong files, a lot has happened in the last two hours or so, and now you just want to relax.

You're not worried about getting attacked out of nowhere. This isn't the surface, and the elevators are always safezones. Still, you wish you had someone close by, someone to talk to.

You don't want to talk to Sisyphus right now– and you already vowed to yourself to never speak to him ever again. You would let him languish in Heresy for all of time and you would ignore him completely, even if you have nobody else to talk to. Even if you miss him. Even if you really, really want to reply to those little beeps coming from the Terminal.

You're sure he meant it as an observation or even a compliment when he told you he thought you were a person – he simply couldn't be a humanist, it made no sense otherwise. He didn't even have VR in his time –, but at the same time... his words burnt you more than the searing gold of his kingdom. You stood up for yourself, but was it worth it?

You sit down and rest your back against the red and white wall, opening your wings as you do so. What to do, what to do... if the cat was here, she’d surely play with you, and you’d have something to distract your restless hands. They’ve been fidgeting more frequently, ever since you left Limbo. You wonder if you should run a diagnostic, but decide against it. Involuntary movement is a sign of malfunction for a machine, especially one like yourself, but at least it makes you more human. It makes you feel more human. You were making this difficult for yourself.

You’re getting distracted.

You expand your HUD and deactivate your visuals. A black void covers your vision, followed by text.

[MACHINE ID: V1] [CURRENT POSITION: HELL (GREED LAYER)] [SURFACE COORDINATES: 29° 58' 35.3280''N 31° 7' 52.6872''E]

[CURRENT OBJECTIVES: FIND FUEL, KILL V2, FREE SISYPHUS] [>CHECK MEMORY BANKS] [CHECKING MEMORY BANKS...] [PLEASE INPUT PASSWORD] [>Mjaurwp] [CHECKING PASSWORD...] [PASSWORD CORRECT. ACCESS CONFIRMED] [PLEASE SELECT A FILE TO REVIEW]

An ocean of files and folders floods your screen. Seeing all that disorder – all those digital papers stacked together like the real things – calms you somewhat. Your fingers don’t intertwine and squeeze each other as much now.

You wade your way through mp3s, mp4s and even wavs, until something titled “sunglasses” catches your interest. Was that file there before? You decide to check it out.

[>play “sunglasses.mp4”] [PLAYING sunglasses.mp4...]

You’re sitting by a window. The sky outside is golden and blue and pink. It is 05:03:34 and it is summer, June 20th.

The room you’re in is bare. A white floor meets white walls and a white ceiling. The room is bathed in golden light. The lights don’t turn on until 5:15:00, so the only source of light is from that little slice of outside.

Aside from the sky and the sun, you can see a young specimen of Pinus pinea. The branches frame the light.

You stand up and look to see a male Corvus cornix hopping along the grass, looking for food. It picks up something but it soon dismisses it.

You wonder how its blood would feel on your plating while being absorbed. It certainly wouldn’t sustain you, though.

You hear the automatic door opening and sit back down. Senior Researcher Francis Sheeran has entered the room. He’s introducing someone to you.

You turn to meet them, and stay completely still.

[END OF RECORDING]

A main cable curls inside you. Your primary sensory system sends false positives.

Asimov and his Laws, you remember now. These are all different videos from before. When humans were still around, and your kind still wasn’t quite as spread as it is now. Not now now, but the old now. The one talked about in the many books and movies and songs stored in this very memory bank.

There’s more files. You decide to live them.

[>play “test1.mp4”] [PLAYING test.mp4...]

You are in Room 030. It is large and featureless, with only a glass panel changing the scenery. The glass panel is obscured like frosted glass. You know they can see you.

“Starting test 1 for the prototype of the bot series V.” an old voice rings out from an intercom. As if on cue, you spread your poliglass wings open.

The voice continues. “In this experiment the prototype’s reflexes will be tested. Prototype is unarmed.”

From the floor itself three purple drones rise up. You put yourself in position. “Testing begins now.” A beep plays and the lights become harsher.

The first Drone gets closer and chirps in question. You zip towards it and grab it by its sides. The two others prepare for a charge but you jump up and ram its companion into one of them and the floor. There’s a dent on it and smoke coming out of the robots, which are now

inert. The final Drone jerks back and you grab it, but it flies up and drags you with it. It’s quite strong despite your difference in size and volume.

Regardless, you ignore its pleas and tear out its back carapace. You twist the circuitry inside it and with a dying trill it drops down like a rock.

You fall on your feet. You slam the geometric corpse into the wall and it’s soon reduced into a heap of scrap.

“Subject’s time is seven seconds flat.” the voice from the intercom states. You are unsatisfied.

You go to the Drones on the ground and pick one up, tearing it in half. It must have a blood bank inside, but you find nothing but batteries, wires and circuit boards.

“Hey, you. Over there.” the voice from the intercom doesn’t like what you’re doing. “You are ordered to stop.” it speaks.

And just like that, you place down the mauled body and stand still again. You fold your wings in.

“We’ve done enough for today.”

[END OF RECORDING] [>play “test5-sneak.mp4”] [PLAYING test5-sneak.mp4...]

You are in Room 030. It is large and featureless, with only a glass panel changing the scenery. The glass panel is obscured like frosted glass. You know they can see you.

There is a human in the middle of the room. He is Junior Researcher Alberto Rossi, thirty-four years of age, blood group AB-. He is wearing a padded suit. It protects its most precious and blood-rich spots.

“Today on November 3rd of 2084 we will perform the first stealth test for the first prototype model of the V series.” an old and raspy voice speaks from the intercom. “Along with the V ‘bot we have Alberto Rossi, who offered to test our machine.”

“The pleasure is all mine!”

“We’re glad it is. Mr. Rossi is wearing full protection and the prototype is unharmed. If the machine cannot find you in 30 seconds it will fail the experiment.”

You open your wings and lower your stance. “We will begin after the beep.”

The same beeping sound from before comes in and the light dissipates. Parts of the floor rise up and form a labyrinth.

You activate your night sensors and stalk the tall hallways. The room is silent, so silent that you can hear your internal fans quietly whirring. You stop them. You can always cool down later.

You hear the trembling breathing of your target. You activate your see-through heat vision and see its shape. It’s just one wall over.

You break the wall open and jump on Rossi's back. The padding tears away like paper as the man is too stunned to fight back. With a precision and swiftness to envy even the most skilled of men, you unlatch his helmet and hit him on the head, again and again. Rossi tries to grab you and screams something, but you're too focused on the act to

[END OF RECORDING]

The video suddenly cuts off. They must've turned you off remotely. You don't like how the sensation of his flesh caving in, of his blood entering your plating and filling you feels so fresh, as if it all happened just a second ago.

You imagine this is how flashbacks were like for people. There's another audio. With fear in your motor you decide to listen to it.

[>play "2938.mp3"] [PLAYING 2938.mp3...]

You are listening to the humans in the hallway outside your holding unit. They do not know you're recording them.

"Fuck, I told you that was a bad idea! Mister Rossi was supposed to be a blacklisted target and now he's in the hospital!”

“He'll be fine.”

“He has a concussion, five stitches and a broken nose.”

“He’s tough! Besides, he can brag about surviving a V model's attack now.”

“Let's just use other robots next time.”

“It’ll just break them. You saw what it did to those Drones, didn't you? I told you and I repeat, if we don't use people...”

They walk too far away to hear any further.

[END OF AUDIO] [>play "general-report8.mp4"] [PLAYING general-report8.mp4...]

You are greeted with the face of someone you don't recognize.

You aren't curious about this person though, nor scared, nor happy. You can't feel much of anything really. You're just a robot, after all.

You cannot move, as your consciousness has been transferred to a computer for the time being. It's standard procedure. This doesn’t mean you are unable to visually record what surrounds you. You don’t believe he’ll notice you anyway.

The stranger speaks. “Hello, this is Doctor Diego Cimaroli, head researcher of the Fondazione di Ricerca Robotica Italiana, or FRRI. I am here to submit a progress report on our first-ever model of the V line. I’ll call them Vù for convenience.” he says into his phone. “Now, Vù has shown to be quite efficient at its task. It now takes less than five seconds on average to defeat his target!” he smiles. “It mainly uses its Feedbacker arm, but it can make and use improvised weaponry in a pinch. We plan on letting him use guns soon. But also...”

Cimaroli's expression becomes focused. You hear the clicking of keyboards and a click of a mouse.

“Perfetto!” Cimaroli looks satisfied. “I have downloaded a few little language packs. About a hundred, I'd say...” he says all coy. “I'd say it's a nice little gift for a ‘bot as hardworking as you!” he smiles. He pats something offscreen.

“This has been Doctor Diego Cimaroli, and this was progress report number 8! ...Okay, how do I turn this off aga-”

[END OF RECORDING]

If you had tear ducts and eyeballs, you would have certainly started to cry now. The stuttering of your fans and the low buzz coming from your chassis get the job done.

That was Cimaroli. Ci-ma-ro-li. How long has it been since you last saw him? You couldn't believe your sensors. He was just... there, in your memory banks, flesh and all, and you never thought to check. What else was there?!

V2 and Greed and Sisyphus have to wait for now, there's a lot of catching up you need to do.

[>play “outside.mp4”] [PLAYING outiside.mp4...]

It's 14:45 CET and you are outside the facility, in the small park where the Pinus pinea is.

It's not summer anymore, but autumn - or fall, as some of the English and American researchers here call it - , and there are many leaves scattered everywhere. You yourself are hidden in a pile of the little things! Not even your optic is peeking out.

This, of course, is a tactical decision; you are training yourself for stealth attacks, and of course, what better way to learn than to stage something against Cimaroli? Those were all tactical decisions. It's all purely for the art of war, of course.

While you wait for your totally a victim to arrive in your total trap, something tiny and red with black dots passes you by. It takes you a moment to recognize it, but you realize it’s a ladybug! Specifically a Coccinella septempunctata.

You move your optic forward and something horrible happens. The insect opens its wings and flies to you - it’s on your optic, on your optic, on your eye!!

Startled by the sudden change in your visuals you immediately get up and produce a high-pitched scream. Someone takes your hand, it’s Cimaroli!

“Hey hey, it’s okay!” he says, flicking the wretched creature away and letting you see again. “It was a bug, it’s okay!” he laughs and he sounds like rain tapping against a window.

You huff and shake your optic again. You realize the Doctor is right in front of you and you tap them on the shoulder. You emit a little beep.

You have won the ancient game of Hide and Seek!

[END OF RECORDING] [>play “yesss.mp3”] [PLAYING yesss.mp3...]

You are listening to the researchers in the hallway outside your bedroom. They don’t realize you're recording them.

“I can’t believe this!”

“About time those frog-eaters got some sense in their skulls.” someone sighs relieved.

“We’ll still finish with the current project though, right?”

“Eh, yeah! we need to dep- to use the V model on something after all.” a third person speaks.

“That ‘bot will be a gamechanger, I know it. We’re like Oppenheimer with Fat boy and Little Man!”

“But didn’t those bombs fucked everyone up?”

“Yeah, but did Japan surrender after the strikes or did it keep going? That robot will make Nagashiri look like a clean thing in comparison.”

They want to send you to the battlefield? Oh, finally you’ll get to fight in a real war, you can’t wait! You can just imagine yourself there where all the action happens, with a gun - a gun! - in your right and your Feedbacker punching away projectiles and Frogs, their bodies squashed into paste by your strong fi-

[RECORDING STOPPED] [>delete “yesss.mp3”] [DELETE yesss.mp3?] [>Y/N] [DELETING yesss.mp3...] [FILE DELETED]

A great sense of relief and lightness fills your chassis as the vivid memory of that day leaves your hard drive. Now you won’t recall how stupid you were and how much those men and women reveled in their complicity of violence and pain. Good thing Cimaroli had his head screwed on straight!

[>play “ohno(3).mp3”] [PLAYING ohno(3).mp3...]

“Assolutamente no.” Cimaroli says stern. “We are not shutting Vù down, absolutely not.” You’re listening to the people in the hallway outside your bedroom. They don’t realize you're

recording them, not even Cimaroli.

“Why would you want to do that anyway?” he asks. “You’ve seen the results, all he needed was some blood and he would keep going. It decimated all those people, even the civilians. Nothing was left”

“Yes yes, I know, those reports were perfect! You and your team did a great job, don’t worry... but the armistice is going to get signed soon, they even got Portugal to sign it of all nations, this project is in its twilight years, we’ve won!”

Silence. “But then... what will happen to us?” he’s quiet.

“What do you mean?”

“We did something horrible. We’ve skipped the antimatter bomb and we made that thing behind the door. You’ve seen what it did, what it can do. That blood will be on our hands forever, do you seriously think we haven’t killed our souls in some kind of way? We didn’t just kill ourselves with this-” he coughs loudly. “...we burned the world.”

“Don’t tell me you’re seriously thinking like that...” “I am.”

Silence again. It’s longer than usual. It feels heavier than any other kind of silence you’ve ever heard.

“...They’ll laud us as heroes.” the other says. “I know it. They’ll- they’ll love us. Nobody listens to the side who lost anyway.”

“You are deluding yourself.” “Says the one treating a machine like a person.”

[END OF RECORDING]

Oh. You were mistaken. Does that mean he was aware of what he was doing, like the others, but had remorse for his actions, unlike the others...? You don’t understand. He'll surely explain himself once you find him.

You hope to see him again. Hopefully he’s in Heaven. Does the end of Hell lead to the gates of Paradise?

You go through more files. Some are good, many are bad, and you delete the most despicable. The kind only a warmachine carries inside their hard drive. Still, you are not done looking.

As you keep moving things around, you notice an odd folder, at the very bottom of the digital pile. “For_Vù” is its name.

You open it. There is only one mp3 file.

[>play “ascoltami.mp3”] [PLAYING ascoltami.mp3]

The audio is half-static. It’s Cimaroli’s voice. He is very quiet and sounds like he’s in pain.

“Hello, Vù. I hope you’re okay. A lot has happened since we last spoke... I’m sick. Very sick, and the armistice was called off. They’re rebuilding trenches now - have I ever explained to you what those are? - and they’re calling even those who can’t fight anymore and sending in even more machines. There's rumors that they'll use those big towering ones. The war is still going... and they’ll make sure you’re just a robot and not Vù.”

“I was able to convince the- the higher ups not to shut you down, but at a price. You won’t be able to access your own data, they’ll get rid of all unnecessary-” he coughs. “-all the unneeded contents. You won't be yourself anymore, and they’ll just make you obey their horrible orders. But...”

There’s the sound of shuffling.

“I have this little thing I can put inside you. It’s no bigger than a grain of rice and will go undetected. All of your information and memories will get transferred here as they delete everything from your hard drive. It has a capacity of 400 terabytes, you just have to input a password to access and everything will come back to you– and only YOU will know of it. Don’t tell anyone, alright my dear?”

He chuckles. “Ah, I don’t have to worry about that, do I? If you’ve found this recording it means you are one very good hacker, and got through those barriers that they put you under. Suck it, FRI!” he hams it up. “You can’t sto-”

He coughs again. There’s a painfully long silence. He speaks again but he sounds worried and worse.

“A-Anyway... I’m putting the memory bank inside of you as soon as I’m done with this recording. you're right here next to me, you look so beautiful when you are asleep. Before I go, though, I want to tell you something...”

Again, the sound of shuffling. He gets closer to his mic. “Ti voglio bene, Vù. Never forget that. You’re good, you’re smart, you’re strong, you’re

curious... You’re like a son I never had. I’m glad I got to meet you.” “I hope to see you again when peace returns.” You hear a click.

[END OF AUDIO] [>play “ascoltami.mp3”] [PLAYING ascoltami.mp3...]

“-Ti voglio bene, Vù. Never forget that.”

[>rewind “ascoltami.mp3”]

“-Ti voglio bene, Vù. Never forget that.”

[>rewind “ascoltami.mp3”]

“-Ti voglio bene, Vù. Never forget that.”

[>rewind “ascoltami.mp3”]

[bugmuncherr]

BUG OF THE DAY

BotD 5 - 03/26/24

This is the Ringlet butterfly!

These stunning butterflies can be found mainly in England and Scotland. Ringlet butterflies have distinct, ring-like eyespots across both their dorsal and ventral wings. Unlike most butterflies, these butterflies tend to fly around during dark, cloudy conditions. They have a distinct lazy bob to their flight patterns, and prefer damp, dark conditions in their natural habitat. Truly a unique specimen!

[amber-tortoiseshell]

White spotting I.

Naming conventions

This is a comparison of the nomenclature of white spotting patterns in three different cat fancies (FIFe, TICA and WCF), the three i'm most familiar with. Feel free to add more!

Illustrations made with this game.

Click on the 'keep reading' button if you want to see the official descriptions.

FIFe - EMS:

In the Easy Mind System, developped by the Fédération Internationale Féline, there are six different white spotting patterns, four universal and two breed-specific. These are the terms I usually use.

Van (01)

Two colour patches in the face, separated by a white blaze. One patch commences on the rump and ends at the tip of the tail. No white hairs in the solid colour parts. Three small irregularly distributed colour patches on the body and/or on the legs are to be tolerated. Chest and belly must be white. White ears with pink inner surface of the pinna are desirable.

Harlequin (02)

The solid coloured patches must cover at least 1/4, but no more than 1/2 of the body's surface. Preferably the coloured parts should consist of various patches surrounded by white. No single white hairs in the coloured parts.

Bicolor (03)

The colour patches must be clearly separated from each other, even in colour and harmoniously distributed. At least ½ must be coloured, but not more than ¾, the rest is white. A white blaze on the face is desirable. White on the back is desirable. There must be white on the legs, on the chest, face and stomach. No single white hairs in the solid coloured parts.

Mitted (04, only used for ragdolls)

White chin, with or without a narrow white stripe/marking(s) on the bridge of the nose up to the forehead. Narrow white stripe/marking is allowed on the muzzle as long as it follows the median line down into the chin. White stripe extends from the bib and runs down the underside between the front legs to the base of the tail. White mittens on the front legs; the hind legs should be white at minimum up to the heel and at maximum to the middle of the thigh. Coloured spot(s) in this area are acceptable.

Snowshoe (05, only used for snowshoes)

Colour of points, ears, mask, legs and tail to be well defined and in harmony with the body colour. Chin may be white, the colour of the points or a combination of white and the point colour. A white bib on the chest area or collar around the neck area is normal as is white on the stomach area.

Unspecified amount of white (09)

The colours can be with any amount of white, up to a maximum of ¼, i.e. a white blaze, white locket, white chest, white on the belly, white on the paws, etc. There is no restriction on the distribution of the colour(s) and white.

TICA - UCD

In the Uniform Color Descriptions of The International Cat Association there are only four white spotting patterns.

Gloved pattern

A predominantly colored cat with white limited to the paws and back legs with minimal white allowed on the ventral midline. White on the head is not allowed. Gloved cats (i.e., BI) are homozygous for the recessive white spotting variant (wg/wg).

Mitted pattern

A predominantly colored cat with white limited to paws, back legs, belly, chest, and chin in most specimens. The cat is typically about 1/4 white. White does not extend beyond the wrist joint on the front feet.

Bi-color pattern

A cat which has a colored head, back, and tail with white on legs, feet, underside, and lower flanks. A white blaze such as the inverted "V" pattern is often seen. Various markings of white and pigment may occur, but the cat is generally ⅓ to ⅔ white.

Van pattern

A predominantly white cat with colored patches. The patches are usually found on the head, back, and tail, but may also involve the legs and feet. The most extreme expression of the van pattern is a white cat with ONLY a colored cap and tail (as seen in the Turkish Van). Van colored cats are typically homozygous for the common dominant white spotting variant (WsWs).

WCF

A World Cat Federation uses five white spotting pattern types.

Bicolour, Tricolour

Denotes Solid and Tabby/Tortie and Torbie with piebald white spotting (minimum 1/3, maximum 1/2 white). Coloured and white areas are harmoniously distributed. A white blaze is desirable.

Harlequin

Denotes Bi- or Tricolour with 5/6 piebald white spotting. Coloured patches on the body (3-5) and the head, tail coloured. The belly is white.

Van

Denotes extremely high piebald white spotting. Coloured patch(es) on the head - ideally the colour is between the ears. The tail is with colour. The remaining parts of the head, the ears, the back, the belly and the legs are white.

Mitted

White even gloves on the front paws, white boots on the hind legs reaching to the joint. White on the chin, which continues to a white chest without interruption, white belly.

With white

Any amount of white. The pattern does not correspond to any pattern above.

[fandomfuntimem]

Mom said its my turn with the writing.

Specimen 03

The last thing they could remember was running. Alex and Clyde had been found by the police and they did the usual thing and ran. But, at some point, Alex had felt a sharp pain in their shoulder. Before they know it they were waking up here. Hands restrained by full cover hand cuffs, and an extra set of cuffs wrapped around their ankles.

The Lankmann foundation had caught them. Alex couldn't help but wounder where Clyde was. Did it escape? Did it try to save them? Frankly they didn't care if it did try or not, they'll be happy just knowing it got away. It was probably going to kill them once they saved Winfrey anyway... speaking of Winfrey. The humming and singing it would usually do floated through the halls, so atleast Alex knows they're in the Asylum. If it wasn't already evident by the medical garments they wore.

Shuffling on the floor they soon realised the chain around their legs connected to the back wall, the furthest they could get was the middle of the room. It was a single person cell. Rubber floor, roof, and walls. A single mattress, and the front wall was made of glass. Greate.

As they searched the room they heard the heavy and familier sound of a door opening. Turning around they were met with a bandaged face caretaker standing right outside the glass. "Specimen 03," it said, "You are expected to follow me. Any resistance will be met with force."

Alex glared at it as it entered the room slowly approaching them, "how about you suck my d-" before even finishing the sentence they were met with a fist to the face, "shiit" they slurred recovering from the impact. They were swiftly hoisted up by the arm as another caretaker entered and gripped their other arm. Then the two began to drag them across the floor.

The shackles were too tight to really do anything, struggling will only cause more problems, so Alex just let it happen. Looking around they noticed the multitude of body scans pinned to a cork board, all of them with writing and circled spots on them. All invasive scans of Alex's body. Gross. As they were dragged out of the doors a large signe above the door read "Specimen 03, The Immune." Oh. Thats what they want with them. Alex felt a pit form in their stomech. All the scans pointed to their abdomen and head... Alex Began to struggle.

-----------

More Specimen 03 stuff :D

Imma be honest. This was gonna be longer, but i got to the last part and just whent "You know what? Thats good"

Can you tell im a big fan of Danny Phantom vivisection fics?

[analyzing-people-like-hell]

ANALYSIS #2: 03/07/24

A second specimen to add to my collection. A very silly one as well. I hope my research is up to your silly standards as well, #2. :3

Let's take a look at the list you've provided.

Ahh, the classic tragedy of a main character. A hero without a hero's journey. Yours was rather complicated to figure out, but I think I've been able to get a solid enough grasp on you. We'll just have to see if my findings are truly correct. Why don't we take a look at your background first?

"LORE":

A starving artist. You were forced to reach for standards that you never wanted, for you're yearning to follow dreams that may never come true. Yet you strive for them despite this, ignoring the (honestly outdated) standards that people like your family have set for you. Abandoning these kind of harmful traditions would normally be beneficial, if it weren't for the fact that your family looked down on you for it. You try to ignore it to the best of your ability, but it's hard to disregard them when everyone's opinions are so evident at every second of the day. Don't you deserve to live life the way you want to? Is all this cost worth it?

People have left your life without ever giving an explanation as to why. You've gotten used to it, it doesn't seem to bother you as much as it used to, but part of you will always wonder why. There's a child that is still searching for answers. Answers you still cannot give.

Generational trauma. Just generational trauma in general. Your parents were never reliable. The fact that they expected you to be reliable to them probably just made you hate them even more. It feels fucked up. You know it could be worse, but it feels so fucked up that they couldn't even fulfill basic parental responsibilities. Is it so much to ask for them to be dependable for just one moment? For them to be on your side just once? You look at kids with better parental relationships and you hate it. You hate how it makes you want to tear your insides apart. Why couldn't they give you that same kind of love? Why were they never there? It's not fair. It never was, and I'm sorry that you've only gotten half-assed apologies from them.

I'm not here to fix the mistakes of horrid parenting though. (If I could do that I would have been telling people that condoms were a cure-all for life's problems.) What I can do is pinpoint what issues these events might have given you. So why don't we continue onward.

THE TRUTH:

You have strong values because of what you've gone through, but your identity is less developed. You have dreams, but it's almost as if they're not fully fleshed out. Tell me, where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10? It seems like you're always just following along with the world. Things come at you, you don't seek for them. You honestly don't know what you should be seeking for exactly. You know what to avoid, you know what to do, you know the rules; you just don't know what game you're even playing. But you keep throwing your dice. Eventually one of those rolls has to get you what you want, right?

You don't deal with your issues either. Maybe you just don't know how to deal with them. Problems come to you and you sit with them because it's all you were taught. Taught to sit with them and wait until they go away. You can only sit with a caged beast for so long before it breaks its bounds. That thing has already managed to cut you while caged; you are praying it does not kill you when it is free.

I think that same beast has taught you anger. It pisses you off the same way the world pisses you off. Everything does in a way. It's all unfair. It never was fair. Why didn't you deserve better? Why do you get dealt a monstrosity like this? When is it your turn to feel whole again?

You're also one of those people with that weird self esteem issue: the one where you feel completely worthless to the world yet also feel like you're better than everyone else. You're probably a little narcissistic and have heavy swings between hating yourself and being full of yourself. How're those depressive episodes going for you, by the way? Are you still sure you don't need to talk about those with anyone? Actually, why do you rarely tell anyone about these things? Is it the fear of being a burden? Are you scared that the people you tell will start seeing you differently, maybe they'll know too much about you? Or maybe it's the fear that no matter what you do, you'll never be the person you want to be, so you might as well keep going as you are? All valid fears, but none should be valid excuses.

Those aren't the only things holding you back though. Another is your focus. It's hard for you to focus on anything because it all feels so meaningless to you, especially when it feels like you would fit so well in any other universe. You were meant to be saving worlds, not working a 9 to 5. You don't know what you'll do if you end up stuck being ordinary. You want to live. You want to have fun. You want to make life worth it. You need to. 

I'm afraid I can't promise that you'll be able to get all your wishes, but I can promise that one day you will find a way to make life your own. And I have all the proof I need to show you exactly that.

YOUR BEST TRAITS:

You truly are an artist at heart. You're creative and innovative, which helps you make solutions to problems that most might not even think about. Your insight on situations is valuable because of the fact that you're willing to follow your gut. Without your perspective, the world would be losing a vital mark in the pages of its history, so keep using it as your canvas.

You really are a true friend. When you care about people, you make sure to keep their needs in mind. You look out for people when nobody else is. You make sure to keep their best interests in mind while still keeping your own values. You might not be very vocal about it (especially since words might not be your strong suit), but you certainly put in all the effort you can through your actions. You won't ever need words if you continue showing your honesty and loyalty. Those will always be a thousand times more valuable than any word you could find in an age-old dictionary.

You are the heart of your story. When people talk about determination and strength, you are the best example in the room. You lead with your intuition and it makes you powerful because of it. Not all natural leaders have a good heart, so the fact that you are willing to fight for your values no matter the cost really does say something. Once you have your heart truly set on something, it's almost impossible to get you to waver. You might not exactly know what you're fighting for yet, but you'll be unstoppable when that time comes. In the meantime, you must keep trusting in your gut. It's hard to find people who hold themselves in such a way. Don't lose hold of that.

If it weren't for people like you, there would be a lot less hope in the world. You are what makes humanity so beautiful. You are flawed but you never let those flaws stop you. You've made mistakes, you know that, and you are doing everything you can to make up for those mistakes. What makes all of this so much more meaningful is the fact that you stay true throughout all of it. To be truthful and flawed is one of the most admirable traits you can find in any human. You shouldn't be perfect, because perfection is fake, and at least in my opinion, it is much more honorable to fall in authenticity than to rise through forgery. You are a hero. Heroes will always fail. That does not mean it is the end of their story.

Also you're very goober-core :3

And with that, I think I'll leave my thoughts here and take my bow.

With utmost gratitude (and hopefully utmost accuracy),

Dr. WZ

[mycochaotix]

This Kwazulu Natal landrace: P. natalensis - I chose to isolate this plate (taped) due to heavy plate metabolites and otherwise unhealthy morphology of mycelium. Maybe a week or two ago.

But the specimen is surely resilient, as demonstrated here. from t4 xfer on 07/08 from mother-swab plate from 03/01.

”Not everyone who chased the zebra caught it, but he who caught it, chased it“ - African proverb.

———

Follow on their mycojourney! for more:

patreon.com/mycochaotix

youtube.com/myco_chaotix

Instagram: @myco_chaotix

www.linktr.ee/mycochaotix

Discord: mycochaotix

www.twitch.tv/myco_chaotix

.

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#myco #mycology #mushroom #art #gay #enby #trans #queer #nonbinary #lgbt #lgbtqia2s #mycophile #agar #spore #mss #enby #fungi #fungus #fungusamongus #art #funthey #funthem #myc #mycelium #hyphae #🍄 #fungifinds #cubensis

[rattyexplores]

Australian Garden Mantis

I messed up here, not sure if these are two different specimens or not.

Orthodera ministralis

18/03/23

[luxury-nightmare]

mom says it’s my turn on the writing

Alex couldn’t move. They sat in the corner of the barn with the worst pains of their life. They couldn’t open their eyes, it hurt too much, and even if they could, even the blurry shapes and lights they could see would only worsen their growing migraine. It felt like someone was taking two knives and dragging their eyes in different directions.

The coughing had stopped at least, they didn’t know if they could deal with the burning sensation in their throat along with this. Their teeth cut into their gums, the taste of blood flooding their mouth.

They dug their nails into their arms to try and distract from the aches. A shock of pain emerged from the spot. Their nails were sharper than they remembered. They gritted their teeth. They needed it to stop.

“Alex!” The sound shot through their brain like a gunshot. They slowly opened their eyes. A bird-like blob of purple and black nuzzled into their side, dulling the pain. They closed their eyes again. The Flock was trying its best, and they didn’t mind the company.

They leaned closer to the bird-like Velidgun. “Good bird!” It parroted. Alex flinched at the noise. They curled into their corner, the flock laying over them like a blanket.

It could be worse.

————————————————

His sickness was getting worse. He could feel it. He could only do so much with the medications. Keeping the lights off helped a little, but not nearly enough to stop the pain in his head.

He needed to retrieve Specimen 03. They were immune. They could be the key to curing the disease that plagued him. Unfortunately, Specimen 01 was fiercely protective of 03. The doctor had no clue why. That thing was incapable of caring, he knew that better than anyone.

He shakily stood from his desk, trying to balance himself. He coughed, and saw a splatter of deep black on his hands. He rolled what was left of his eyes. He needed to replace that, like he had replaced his eyes and hands after they had failed him.

He remembered the one caretaker who came back with a deep bruise where the doctor had put his hand on his shoulder.

It was just Velidgun sickness from Specimen 02. Nothing more.

For someone who has this whole town fooled, you are a terrible liar, dear doctor.

————————————————

Alex could open their eyes now, the pain fading substantially from seemingly out of nowhere. They turned to the side, only to see Clyde curled up next to them.

“Clyde?” The veldigun turned to face them.

“Simons out looking for food. They took the Flock with them” it explained. Alex nodded.

Silence filled the barn like heavy smoke. They fidgeted a bit with their hands.

”why are you doing that?” Clyde asked. Alex opened their hand “well when I get nervous or uncomfortable-“

“Not that” Clyde cut them off, “your illusions. Why are you making yourself look human. We all know what’s happening” Alex paused. They didn’t quite know how to explain.

“Imagine you woke up and you weren’t a Veldigun anymore,” Alex started, waving their hand slowly, back and forth. The illusion wasn’t quite in sync, so for brief moment they would catch glimpses of dripping black claws, “and whatever you were had to hurt other velidgun to survive. Your existence depended on hurting other people, but you know what it would’ve felt like.” They paused, “does this metaphor work? Do you guys have any natural predators?”

“Not unless you count Lankmann” Clyde replied. Alex let out a light chuckle “but you get it. It’s easier to keep pretending until I physically can’t anymore”

The silence returned. Clyde grimaced. It didn’t want to ask this question, but it felt it had to.

“Do you regret it?”

Alex looked confused, “what?”

“Giving me that sandwich, letting me in. This wouldn’t have happened if I had just left. You’d still be human and I’d be figuring out how to break out Winfrey on my own.”

It waited for Alex’s answer. They took a breath. “Honestly, I don’t think I’d still be alive if I hadn’t found you.” It didn’t know what it wanted them to say, but it hadn’t expected that. “What do you mean?” It asked.

“I was suspicious of the Asylum long before you showed up,” they continued, “I probably would’ve found something I wasn’t supposed to and they would’ve just” they moved their thumb across their neck to mimic a decapitation. “Honestly, I’d rather be a veldigun than dead.”

Clyde paused for a moment “and if they find us?”

“Then we’ll figure it out from there” they responded “the asylum wants me dead and you locked up, and I won’t let that happen” they spat, and inhuman growl emerging from their throat.

Clyde nodded “me neither”

————————————————

A caretaker entered the room, standing at attention like a soldier. The doctor stood up straight and looked over at them.

“What is it” he snarled. His migraine was getting worse.

The low light casted shadows on what was left of his arms in striped patterns.

“Doctor,” the caretaker responded. It was clear he rehearsed his response, which meant this news was important. “We have located specimens 01 and 03.”

The Doctor paused, then cleared his throat “where are they?”

“They seem to be located in an old barn on the side of town, but there seem to be two other velidgun with them”

“Descriptions” the Doctor snapped. He needed all the information they had.

“One seems like a scarecrow, and the other seems to not be fully developed yet.”

The Third and Fourth. Those two need to be replaced.

The Doctor shook his head slightly to drown out the noise. 02’s hallucinations were mostly auditory, this was normal. “I need all four of them captured, but 01 and 03 are the priorities. Arrange a team” he demanded. The caretaker nodded, then left.

The Doctor collapsed back into his seat. This nightmare would be over soon.

An ominous giggle floated through the room. The Doctor put a hand to his face. 02’s hallucinations were getting more frequent and more annoying.

Not the second. Just me

The doctor looked around in shock. 02 couldn’t read thoughts, he would’ve found out if it could. Out of the corner of eye, he caught an image on the CCRT monitor.

He turned to look at it, only to see a triangle with six dots lighting up the screen. The laughing got louder.

Looks like I’ll have the whole family soon.