#but with no regards to realistic damage

[thebibliosphere]

I was just playing gotham knights again and noticed some passive dialog regarding Babs having a back brace, which is at least acknowledging that there was damage done, but I'm a little sad for the loss of some really cool disability representation. What are your feelings on her (and on a similar note Batman's) miraculous recovery from paralysis in DC?

I think Gotham Knights handled her disability fairly well, considering this is a universe where magic, nanobots, and puddles of evil green goo that can heal the dead exist. All things considered, it would have been very easy for them to either erase it entirely or just handwave and say, "She worked really hard and got better," as previous iterations of the canon have done.

Because she did work hard and get better, but the hard work is ongoing because they depict her issues as chronic.

She's got a limp (it's the most obvious in her Talon suit with no cape in the way), which means she can't rely on speed or high kicks like the others can (I mean, she can kick, but it's her slowest motion, and until you max out her suit, it's the most liable to get her thrown to the ground), so she falls back on precision and her tech.

Jason punches for maximum pain, Dick moves with dizzying speed, and Tim's gonna sneak up on you and drop you like a rock, but Babs is going for the pressure points with ruthless precision. Not to mention her drones.

The conversation with Tim, realizing she might need help boosting her suit to compensate for her pain/strength issues, is a nice little way of making the player aware that she's got these ongoing problems because, honestly, a casual observer could mistake her back brace for athleisure wear if they didn't recognize the shape of it. It's also a good way of throwing in some exposition about how she's still going to physical rehab and that her PT would like her to "wean off" her back brace, but because her PT doesn't know her actual job as a vigilante, Barbara admits she can't and is essentially finding ways to manage her own care and create her own accommodations. Accommodations which they are all shown to be willing to help with.

It's a nice little touch when superhero narratives tend to revolve around self-sacrifice to the point of self-destruction. Alfred giving Dick into trouble for pushing himself too far and hiding injuries is a nice touch, too, even if it's like trying to bail water on the Titanic with a teacup.

I also like that not only do you see her wheelchair lurking around the Belfry—along with the disability adaptations they put in place, like the ramps, the wheelchair elevator, and the desks that move up and down to wheelchair height—but that she also still uses her chair from time to time.

[ID a screenshot from Gotham Knights showing the Belfry. Light streams in through a giant clockface, showcasing a bank of computer screens. In front of the screen, Barbara Gordon is using her wheelchair as Dick Grayson stands behind her, probably making a bad pun.]

Whether she's using it because she's tired or simply because it's more comfortable than the computer chair is never revealed. Nor is it brought up or commented on. It's just something that's normal for Barbara to do, and I like that. I like that it's normal. It's not a part of herself she's trying to erase. She works with it, not against it.

Is it perfect? No. Do they outright erase her disability like so many of the comics are guilty of? Also, no. I'd argue that, in fact, they kept her disability. They just changed the nature of it.

Barbara now has a dynamic disability, one which fluctuates and requires different management based on her day-to-day (or night) activity. She's in active treatment for it and will be for the rest of her life. Are some of the physical feats she achieves realistic for someone with an injury of her nature? Not really, but again, this is a world where nobody stays dead, and there are zombie assassins coming out of the walls. I'll take the attention to detail and care they put into her story any day over the "Willpower Fixed My Spine" narrative we could have gotten.

As for Bruce getting healed by magic, again, it's Batman. Comic book logic is wibbly-wobbly at the best of times, and realistically speaking, they couldn't leave Batman paralyzed. His whole deal revolves around being stealthy and punching the shit out of people. He wouldn't be Batman anymore, and frankly, I don't trust the comic writers as far as I could throw them to handle that right.

By contrast, the Gotham Knights writers handled Barbara with much more care and nuance than I ever expected. And I'm thankful for that.

---

*I also like that both Dick and Barbara are often shown wearing joint braces. Dick's are especially reminiscent of the way gymnasts and people with hypermobility tape their joints to reduce pain and prevent injuries. It's a nice little touch. They're not invincible. Their bodies hurt. They're just like me but with money and much bigger problems like giant killer robots and zombie assassins.

[allbark-no-bite]

don’t write checks you can’t cash.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 3.6k)

summary: jake seresin is under your skin. or maybe you’re under his. either way you’re going to eat each other alive. jake isn’t about to take the fall

warnings: mentioned age gap, heavy sexual tension (the smut is coming i promise)

author’s note: back on my topgun bullshit bitches (respectfully). i’m not usually one for multi part fics but i actually wrote something with plot for once so please just bear with me. loosely inspired by Zach Bryan’s ‘nineball’. please note this fic title is subject to change bc i hate it

(you can read part 2 here!)

————————————————————————

You don't believe in love at first sight. You think the whole concept is some foolish idea that people who have already fallen in love have the liberty of saying they believe in. Then people who have been through failed relationship after failed relationship are convinced that they're never going to fall in love because it just doesn't happen. The whole idea pretty much just sets the rest of the population up for failure from the start.

Even the concept of finding the right person one day and growing to love them is hard for you to grasp. Because how can you love someone that much? How do you know you love them enough?There are some days that you don't enjoy the presence of even your closest friends for very long, friends who you would do anything for. Even family, you only tolerated so much.

Your high school boyfriend hated that about you, the fact that you realistically needed so little of him—or anyone for that matter. You have always been violently independent, able to provide what you require, and therefore having to maintain a simplistic relationship became nothing but a monotonous task. Even most of your closest friendships faded with time.

Eventually, you prosed the question: what can someone else give me that I cannot give myself?

The answer was companionship. Because when you strip away everything from a person and all they have left to offer you is themself, you have to be willing to choose them. And sometimes that's not the most appealing quality.

Something did happen, the first time you made eye contact with Lt. Jake Seresin, but it was far from love. It was something terrible in your chest, like an aching. Like you knew in your gut that he was going to change your life. Good or bad, you didn't know, but it was certain to happen.

You don't even believe that you two were destined to meet — you just happened to, and in that moment, the damage was done, it was your fate to ruin each other.

——

You like the way he says your name. You like that he says your name on purpose, like he is intentionally seeking out reasons to say it. It's not as harsh sounding coming from his mouth.

"You from around here, [L/n]?"

You're wiping down the glass hatch of your F/A-18 when he approaches you from behind. You swivel your head to catch sight of him behind your back but he's already making a wide circle around you, his chin tipping up then down as he inspects your plane from behind his tinted aviators.

As you watch him scrutinize your aircraft, you regard him with a certain level of apprehension. Jake Seresin was nothing short of gorgeous. He was six feet of bronze skin and lean muscle, withbright green eyes, and a movie star smile. Not to mention the southern accent that had girls drooling over him.

"Austin," you correct him. "Austin, Texas."

You'd been transferred over to Miramar a little over a month ago, becoming the newest addition to the Dagger squad. California was a nice change of scenery, and everyone you had met so far had welcomed you with open arms. That is, everyone but Lt. Seresin— Hangman as they called him. You were still trying to find your footing with him.

You genuinely don't know what his problem is with you. The guy had hardly even given you a glance since the moment you'd arrived. Your first guess would have been that he was one of those dickheads who didn't like women working in the field, but his relationship with Phoenix disproved that theory.

Your answer seems to warrant his attention, and he looks up. His expression twitches at the correction but he doesn't say anything in response. For the first time since you arrived at Miramar, still, unsmiling green eyes catch yours from across the aircraft.

You hold his gaze. After a moment, your stomach twists in an unsettling way, like even it doesn't know what to do with itself. Your first instinct is to look away. Your brain is telling you that if you do, you can avoid any sort of confrontation that may happen as a result. But it's like you can't.

This is the first time he's looked at you, and now you don't dare to look away.

Even from behind the tint of his perfectly polished aviators, you can make out the distinct color of his green eyes. They're so distracting that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

After what feels like eons of uncomfortable staring, he breaks your gaze —surely it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds. Flustered, you glance around to see if anyone else has picked up on the affair. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you're not quite sure which, it's nearing 6pm and the base is on the better side of empty. It's a Friday evening and everyone is eager to head out for the weekend.

Someone clears their throat. Hangman is still standing there, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn't have anywhere better to be. You want to say something but your gut is telling you that there's some sort of game going on here and you're not sure of the rules.

Finally, he faintly nods his head, as if to excuse himself, and turns to walk away. You watch his retreating back and relax a little, breathing a bit easier.

As you're turning back to your plane, relieved that the interaction is over, you hear him call back over his shoulder.

“The team is heading to the Hard Deck at nine. Don't be late."

And then he's gone, disappeared between one of the hangars.

——

For nine thirty on a Friday evening, the bar isn't nearly as busy as you'd expected it to be. You don't have to fight for a parking spot out front and there's not even a line at the bar. Other than a rowdy looking gaggle accumulating at the pool table, the atmosphere is pretty laid back. Looking around as you walk further in, there is a handful of people in civilians, but the majority of the crowd is composed of off duty aviators in their summer khakis.

You're about to head over to the bar top, where you were sure you had spotted Captain Mitchell, when someone shouts your name.

"Hawk!"

Your head swivels at the sound of your callsign, and you catch sight of Rooster beckoning to you over at the pool table. Immediately you recognize the familiar faces of the Dagger squad around him. You acknowledge him with a smile and head over to join them.

“And here we thought you were going to be a no-show," the brunette pilot chirps, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as soon as you're close enough. You lean into his embrace while touching his chest with a friendly pat of your hand. Bradley is by no means close to drunk but most definitely more than a little buzzed if you're going off of the smell of beer and lime on his breath and the occasional involuntary twitch of his mustache.

"I thought about it, but I can't keep letting you guys have all the fun," you laugh, holding out your other arm so that you can greet Natasha with a hug as Rooster releases you.

After hugging you, she presses a sweating bottle of beer into your hand. "Coyote bought everyone a round so I figured I'd save you one before the boys wiped them out. Sorry if it's a bit warm, you did show up fashionably late."

You playfully roll your eyes at her, taking the beer anyhow. "Thanks, Phe."

Payback places a large palm on the top of your head, diverting your attention towards him as he returns from the bar. "Don't let her fool you, we're just getting started over here. Rooster isn't even drunk enough to get on the piano yet."

Laughing, you glance over at the brunette aviator. "Now that I've been waiting to see. I hear you're quite the show, Bradshaw."

Since you transferred over to Miramar, you had been hounded nonstop to go out drinking with the team for weeks, and Rooster's infamous performance had been one of their key selling points. That and the fact that the owner, Penny, often gave them free drinks. Apparently she had a thing for Captain Mitchell.

Rooster grins, leaning against the pool stick in his hand as he waits for Fanboy to take his shot. "Let me get a couple more beers deep and I promise you won't be disappointed."

As you go about making your rounds to greet everyone else, you can't help but notice that there's someone missing. After you take a seat beside Bob to watch Rooster and Fanboy play, you glance around the bar a few times, convinced that you've somehow overlooked him despite the fact that the place isn't busy enough for that.

An almost disappointed feeling pulls at you despite how ridiculous the realization makes you feel.

After spending the better part of an half hour trying to push the feeling away, you finally spot a familiar head of blonde hair over at the dartboard. He's by himself, about three darts in and half a bottle of beer down. So much for the personal invitation, you think.

You watch as he throws a dart, practically without so much as aiming whilst contemplating whether or not you even have it in you to muster up the courage to face those green eyes again.

Without giving yourself the chance to back down, you swallow back the rest of your now warm beer and head over.

He tosses another dart just as you reach him, and it finds itself dead center with the previous three.

"With a hand like that, you should be kicking Rooster's ass over there in pool," you say as you come to a stop behind him.

Walking away from the dartboard, Jake turns to grab his bottle of beer from the table beside you.

"I'm not much of a betting man," he huffs, leaning back against the table. The muscles of his biceps bugle distractingly against the sleeves of his uniform.

You look back over your shoulder, watching from a distance as Fanboy's cue clips the eight ball and sends it ricocheting off the sidewall. He groans, and Rooster whoops triumphantly from behind him.

"It wouldn't be much of a bet. Even with his winning streak, I think you'd give him a run for his money."

Hangman takes a sip from his bottle, mouth lingering on the rim before he sets it back down and crosses his arms. "Rooster's all luck and no skill. The table's got a lean."

You raise your eyebrows at the confession, half laughing at his lax confidence. "Oh? And you would know this how?"

"C'mon, son. Fuckin' hit it in."

Body tense, his arm quivers ever so slightly and the pool stick bobs shakily in his hand. He closes his eyes and takes a breath in.

"I haven't got all day, kid."

He breathes out and breathes back in. The smell of cigar smoke and cheap beer swims in his head.

"What're you doin'?! Quit wastin' time."

He exhales, opens his eyes, and hits the pool stick forward. The white cue ball shoots out to the left, bounces against the eight ball, and sends it hurdling towards the side pocket. At the very last moment, it veers off to the left and falls into  the back corner pocket instead.

The man standing on the other side of the table curses, his pool stick dropping to the ground, but Jake pays little mind to him. He straightens, looking around eagerly for the only set of eyes that matter. The grin falls from his face when he realizes the old man isn't even watching, too busy counting out his prize money and yanking out a ten to hand to the bartender.

Jake looks up at the clock on the wall over his shoulder.

12:57 am

"Dad, I wanna go home."

"Not yet, son. I've already got fifty put down on another round."

"Want me to show you?"

His offer makes you pause, and you can't help but cock your head a bit as you try to weigh out just where this is heading. For weeks he has acted as though you barely even existed and now you're engaged in the longest conversion the two of you have had since your arrival.

Jake finishes his drink and sets the bottle down whilst walking over to you. "Final offer. Take it or leave it."

You laugh a little before stepping back so that he can make his way to the pool table. "Lead the way then." But before you can make it too far, his palm finds the flat of your back, pressing you forward so that you're in front of him. You're glad he can't see you because your face flashes hot at the unexpected contact.

"I'm not the one playing, kid. I'm just going to show you the ropes."

"Oh, I didn't-"

Any objections you have about the situation are ignored as he pushes you firmly in the direction of the pool table and asks Payback for his cue. "Look alive, Bradshaw. Hawk is about to show you how this thing is done."

Straightening his wide shoulders, Bradley grins, smug and easy as you and Hangman approach the opposite side of the table. "And here I thought you were here to reclaim your throne now that I'm intoxicated."

Jake grins back. "You don't need to be drunk for me to do that."

Bradley's mustache twitches, but he's still smiling. "Sure."

Jake turns back to you, placing the pool stick in your hand. You can't help but think that his expression is all too confident for someone who has never even seen you play pool.

"Nervous?" he asks as you take the stick from him.

"Should I be?" you ask back, turning your head to watch as Rooster takes the liberty of breaking the rack.

He shakes his head, his green eyes glowing with a warmth that you've yet to see from him. "Not as long as you don't totally suck."

Seeing that it's your turn, you brush past him to stand at the table. "I guess I'll let you be the judge of that."

Thankfully you've played your fair share of pool and so you're able to hold your own for most of the game. Jake remains criminally silent as you play, arms once again crossed as he leans against a nearby stool, but you can feel his gaze burning into your back the entire time. It isn't until the end of the game and you've missed the same ball multiple times that he steps in.

"Shift left," he directs you. When you glance over at him, he nods his head as if to insinuate where you should move but doesn't move from where he's planted himself since the beginning of the game.

Hesitantly, you shuffle over a half step and take the shot. The ball comes closer than you have been but still hits the sidewall just short of the pocket. You huff in frustration, and Rooster steps forward to take his turn, sinking his second to last ball in the same pocket.

"I hope you're ready to buy the next round, Seresin. Looks like Hawk is losing her nerve," Bradley goads, unable to keep himself from boasting a little at your expense. When it comes to Hangman, he can't resist the chance to taunt him.

You roll your eyes at his comment, not bothered so much by it as compared to the fact that you're losing. When it's your turn again, you line up the ball and lean down to assume your position when Jake stops you.

All the sudden he's right beside you, palm pressing into your hip to scoot you to the side. "Move over." When you look at him like he's crazy, he huffs. "C'mon, do you want my help or not?"

It isn't so much of a question as it is a statement and the press of his hand against your side doesn't leave you much of an option and so you shuffle over to the far right side of the pool table.

Before you can even comprehend what's going on, he's leant over you, his impossibly tall frame pressed to your back so that he can reach around you and guide your hands. One wraps around your hand on the stick and the other cups your opposite elbow.

It takes everything in you not to jerk away, overwhelmed by his sudden proximity. Instead you try to focus on controlling your hammering heart and pray he can't tell how clammy your palms suddenly are.

"Hey, that's not allowed," Rooster complains. "Is that allowed?"

Coyote shrugs. "It's not not allowed."

Distracted by their bickering, his voice in your ear nearly makes you jump. "Hit the cue ball. Hard."

The lean press of his body is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he's done a god awful job of lining up the shot. There's not one alternate reality where you make this shot.

"You can't be serious."

He's so close that you feel him smile beside your ear. "Dead."

"Any day now," Rooster prompts, as if you aren't aware that Jake Seresin has been pressed against you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. And if Hangman has noticed the fact that your heart is fluttering erratically inside your chest or that your skin is flushed hot to the touch, he doesn't let on. 

"I'm waiting," he reminds you, his voice placid in your ear.

Against your better judgement, you take the shot.

The white cue ball hurtles into the black eight ball with a hard clack and sends it flying across the table. It smashes against the sidewall, exactly as you had expected it to, and you release a breath of defeat. And then something unexpected happens. The ball slows, but instead of bouncing to a stop, it continues to roll left across the table. You all watch as it rolls directly into back corner pocket of the table.

"Well I'll be damned," Payback mutters aloud.

"Hell yeah, [L/n]!" Phoenix shouts, her loud and robust voice ringing out across the bar. "Shots are on Bradshaw!"

"Thanks buddy," Coyote laughs, teasingly grabbing the back of the brunette aviator's shoulders as he heads off for the bar.

Bradley waves them off, looking a bit miffed but still good naturedly accepting his defeat.

"How about it? You're a cold blooded killer."

Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head, the sound of Hangman's voice coming from behind you jerks you back to reality. You haven't even noticed that he'd stepped away. Something inside you twinges at the loss of his body pressed against yours.

You turn around to face him, your brain still trying to comprehend what just happened.

"How'd you do that?" you ask incredulously, your tone almost accusing. A deeper part of you wants to ask 'why did you do that' but the smile on his face stops you.

His top row of pearly white teeth that you glimpse is pristine, however brief, before his pink lips come back together in a more subdued smile. It's an expression that is so very genuine and carefree that it sends a spark straight through to your heart. You've never seen him actually smile before, and especially not at you.

"You're smiling," you accuse before you can stop the words from coming out of your mouth, half giddy at the discovery yourself.

Jake looks slightly away, turning his head briefly in order to suppress his smile before looking back to you. “Yeah? So?” His green eyes are twinkling as he says it, like he knows he’s been caught.

You jab the short end of the pool stick into the center of his chest, but he’s quick to grab it before it can find home.

“Up until yesterday, you could barely stand to even look at me,” you say.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s not true.”

“So you’re saying that I’m seeing things.” You try to tug back on the pool stick but Hangman doesn’t release it.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be seeing things.”

With that, a larger portion of the previous smile is gone from his face, a more sober look replacing it.

Just like that the spark fades. Even though you want to shut down, turn your back to his face and just walk away. You force yourself to keep talking, holding your voice steady. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

Inside you know exactly what he means.

His eyes flicker up over your shoulder but the Dagger squad has already moved on to crowd around Rooster at the piano.

You clamp your jaw together as he releases the pool cue and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It makes him look more relaxed than he is.

"Look, whatever this is—whatever you think I am, I'm not." He says this with the realistic conviction of someone who knows that even if it is, you can't. He says it like he’s trying to convince himself.

You’re not quite sure how old he is—barely thirty if you had to guess— but he’s older. Too old. Not to mention fraternization is deeply frowned upon.

"I know," you answer firmly. Because you do. Because even if it isn't, you want it, whatever it is.

He stares down at you with those green eyes, his pupils pinpoint sharp. After a moment he heaves a sigh and releases it, nodding his head. “So we’re in agreement?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “We’re in agreement.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

[lackadaisycats]

Hey Tracy! Have you heard about the new Ai called Sora? Apparently it can now create 2D and 3D animations as well as hyper realistic videos. I’ve been getting into animation and trying to improve my art for years since I was 7, but now seeing that anyone can create animation/works in just a mare seconds by typing in a couple words, it’s such a huge slap in the face to people who actually put the time and effort into their works and it’s so discouraging! And it has me worried about what’s going to happen next for artists and many others, as-well. There’s already generated voices, generated works stolen from actual artists, generated music, and now this! It’s just so scary that it’s coming this far. 

Yeah, I've seen it. And yeah, it feels like the universe has taken on a 'fuck you in particular' attitude toward artists the past few years. A lot of damage has already been done, and there are plenty of reasons for concern, but bear in mind that we don't know how this will play out yet. Be astute, be justifiably angry, but don't let despair take over. --------

One would expect that the promo clips that have been dropping lately represent some of the best of the best-looking stuff they've been able to produce. And it's only good-looking on an extremely superficial level. It's still riddled with problems if you spend even a moment observing. And I rather suspect, prior to a whole lot of frustrated iteration, most prompts are still going to get you camera-sickness inducing, wibbly-wobbly nonsense with a side of body horror.

Will the tech ultimately get 'smarter' than that and address the array of typical AI giveaways? Maybe. Probably, even. Does that mean it'll be viable in quite the way it's being marketed, more or less as a human-replacer? Well…

A lot of this is hype, and hype is meant to drive up the perceived value of the tech. Executives will rush to be early adopters without a lot of due diligence or forethought because grabbing it first like a dazzled chimp and holding up like a prize ape-rock makes them look like bleeding-edge tech geniuses in their particular ecosystem. They do this because, in turn, that perceived value may make their company profile and valuations go up too, which makes shareholders short-term happy (the only kind of happy they know). The problem is how much actual functional value will it have? And how long does it last? Much of it is the same routine we were seeing with blockchain a few years ago: number go up. Number go up always! Unrealistic, unsustainable forever-growth must be guaranteed in this economic clime. If you can lay off all of your people and replace them with AI, number goes up big and never stops, right?

I have some doubts. ----------------------

The chips also haven't landed yet with regards to the legality of all of this. Will these adopters ultimately be able to copyright any of this output trained on datasets comprised of stolen work? Can computer-made art even be copyrighted at all? How much of a human touch will be required to make something copyright-able? I don't know yet. Neither do the hype team or the early adopters.

Does that mean the tech will be used but will have to be retrained on the adopter's proprietary data? Yeah, maybe. That'd be a somewhat better outcome, at least. It still means human artists make specific things for the machine to learn from. (Watch out for businesses that use 'ethical' as a buzzword to gloss over how many people they've let go from their jobs, though.)

Will it become industry standard practice to do things this way? Maybe. Will it still require an artist's sensbilities and oversignt to plan and curate and fix the results so that it doesn't come across like pure AI trash? Yeah, I think that's pretty likely.

If it becomes standard practice, will it become samey, and self-referential and ultimately an emblem of doing things the cookie-cutter way instead of enlisting real, human artists? Quite possibly.

If it becomes standard industry practice, will there still be an audience or a demand or a desire for art made by human artists? Yes, almost certainly. With every leap of technology, that has remained the case. ------------------ TL;DR Version:

I'm not saying with any certainty that this AI blitz is a passing fad. I think we're likely to experience a torrential amount of generative art, video, voice, music, programming, and text in the coming years, in fact, and it will probably irrevocably change the layout of the career terrain. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was being overhyped as a business strategy right now. And I don't think the immensity of its volume will ever overcome its inherent emptiness.

What I am certain of is that it will not eliminate the innate human impulse to create. Nor the desire to experience art made by a fellow soul. Keep doing your thing, Anon. It's precious. It's authentic. It will be all the more special because it will have come from you, a human.

[demilypyro]

I think what makes SotET so hard is the overcompensating for the fact people can get crazy powerful in the base game by the end of it, and then trying to overcorrect on that with making things even harder. When that messes up the formula they had- punishing difficulty for the sake of a fun challenge, not necessarily to be overwhelming.

To my understanding, they went a bit overboard and it's biting them in the end.

SotET feels like the culmination of a growing problem where they feel like every release has to impress all over again, so they keep raising the pressure and the damage of the major bosses over and over and over.

Artorias was the fastest boss in Dark Souls by far, but he was manageable. Bloodborne went nuts with Maria and the Orphan of Kos. With them, utilizing iframes really became mandatory.

Dark Souls 3 brought in the Nameless King, who was regarded as nearly unbeatable at the time, as well as Sister Friede and Slave Knight Gael in the DLCs, who reached an almost comical level of speed.

Elden Ring brought in Malenia who was so hard that it became a meme. Her attack strings were so long, her attacks were so fast and her damage was so high, that the only realistic way to take her down was to hurt her faster than she could hurt you.

SotET is trying to raise the difficulty AGAIN, and the diminishing returns really hit home here. Every boss is now Malenia. It's not sustainable. Something's gotta give.

[zvaigzdelasas]

[Calcalist is Private Israeli Media]

"We have a huge deficit of ammunition not just in Ukraine but all over the world. We understand we should produce this here in Ukraine because all around the world it’s finished, it’s depleted. All the warehouses are empty," said Ukrainian Prime Minister Denys Shmyhal to the "Financial Times" in October of last year, addressing the ammunition situation of the Ukrainian army, which is interconnected with the challenges faced by the IDF.

The increased ammunition usage in the wars in Gaza and Ukraine has led to an unprecedented global shortage of ammunition of all types. While the IDF tries not to address the issue publicly, Major General Eliezer Toledano admitted last month that the IDF is reducing air attacks, emphasizing the necessity to "manage the economy of armaments" because the war will last a long time. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu also commented on the matter, stating that "we need three things from the U.S.: armaments, armaments, armaments." At a press conference two weeks ago, Netanyahu announced that Israel is preparing the Israeli defense industries to "cut off dependence on the world," a goal that is not realistic in any way.[...]

[L]ast week the Director General of the Ministry of Defense Eyal Zamir concluded a huge deal with the American government for the supply of aerial ammunition in the hundreds of millions of dollars, and so far over 25,000 tons of weapons have been sent to Israel since the beginning of the war in about 280 aircraft and about 40 ships. The Israeli defense industry is also tasked with filling the IDF's stocks. About two weeks ago it was published in Calcalist that the Israeli companies postponed the supply of weapons worth more than $1.5 billion to their customers across the world to divert resources for the IDF's combat needs and that in the last three months, the Ministry of Defense ordered more than NIS 10 billion ($2.7 million) worth of weapons from them. It should be noted that the shortage does not stem from a lack of budget but from a lack of supply, and the Treasury does not restrict the IDF from purchasing ammunition of any kind.

The tremendous need for armaments stems from the unusual amount of bombings that the IDF has carried out in Gaza since the outbreak of the war. Two weeks ago, the army announced that 30,000 targets had been attacked in Gaza. A security source told Calcalist that the rate of fire the IDF is using in the current war is similar to that of a "superpower," is comparable only to the capabilities demonstrated by the U.S., and probably also exceeds the number of armaments of the Russians in the campaign against Ukraine.[...]

Another reason [for the increase in targets bombed] is that in the current war, the IDF adopted a policy of a lighter finger on the trigger [sic] regarding damage to infrastructure and Hamas operatives who are in a civilian environment, thus increasing the ability to hit targets that were not previously attacked. In addition to these reasons, there is also the added pressure from the political level, as well as from the [Israeli] public, who demand an increase in air force bombing to prevent as much as possible a risk to the forces on the ground.[...]

[O]ne should ask whether, considering the existing ammunition stockpile, this policy may not harm the IDF's readiness to carry out future missions, especially given the existing security challenges and the probable scenario in which the IDF will be forced to [sic] carry out an attack in southern Lebanon as well. The IDF may be forced to better clarify its limitations to the politicians to avoid reaching an extreme scenario of an ammunition shortage, or in the words of General Toledano: "There is no infinite army."

28 Jan 24

[howdoyouwhiskit]

*deep breath* so I’ve been meaning to make a big post about House re:mobility aids and chronic pain treatment for a LONG time so here we go this is gonna be a long ride that probably won’t make a lot of sense in regards to a linear narrative so buckle up motherfuckers

Disclaimer: I am disabled, have chronic pain, and am an ambulatory mobility aid user. I have experience using a cane, forearm crutches, a rollator, and a walker. I understand everyone’s experiences are different. I am writing this from my personal experience with mobility aids which may influence some interpretations of things

Let’s start with the obvious one, House uses his cane wrong. They recognize this in canon. It isn’t simply a case of “oh the show writers were lazy and it’s never mentioned.” What I haven’t seen people discuss is that using a cane the way House does (in my experience anyways) fucking hurts. It isn’t comfortable at all. It feels awkward and clunky and at least personally within a few minutes of using a cane in that fashion my *entire body* hurts. Plus, it doesn’t even really help take the pressure off of my leg pain.

Given the all of him there’s two conclusions that I’d like to make about this (and remember this isn’t canon, just simply my interpretation as a disabled person):

It’s very obvious that House has Feelings about mobility aids. Society can often make people think that using mobility aids is a weakness. Admitting something is wrong. House very clearly doesn’t like to do either of those things. I personally have incredibly complicated feelings about mobility aids that I can’t even begin to put into words. I see myself in House in this regard.

I can’t help but think that him using his cane incorrectly is some fucked up form of self punishment. It’s been brought up in canon that House has a tendency to self harm in various ways. I don’t think that people realizing that him using a cane incorrectly could be related. For those who are unfamiliar, using any mobility aid (even a cane) incorrectly can cause damage. I do not claim to be a doctor but I imagine that House would be dealing with back and shoulder issues at minimum from using his cane the way he does.

The next thought I have is something I think about a lot. It’s clear House’s pain fluctuates, as it does for a lot of chronic pain patients. What I don’t see a lot of people talking about is realistically he could fluctuate mobility aids with the fluctuations of his pain. Yes, I understand there are limitations within his career as a doctor, but this is House MD were talking about there isn’t exactly always exact medical realism is there? I just can’t help but wonder, what would House’s life look like, if he let himself use something other than a cane?

I know there’s an episode where House does use a wheelchair for access to an accessible parking space, and I really really wish they expanded upon this more in canon. Personally, I think House needing to be (but not necessarily acting on it) a part time ambulatory wheelchair user makes sense.

I’ve read some fic/headcanons about House needing a wheelchair (Berber it be due to an advancement in disability or as an acceptance of his current disability) yet everyone talks about him using a shitty hospital grade chair. He’s a doctor who probably has great insurance plus a lofty department head paycheck. If House were in a position to have a wheelchair, he could very very easily access a top of the line custom made chair.

I understand the representation of the standard hospital chair often comes from a place of ignorance about custom wheelchairs, I really do. I just think that the concept of using a hospital chair permanently can cloud the judgement of if it’s truly a “bad thing” or not. Hospital wheelchairs are fucking uncomfortable and not easy to use. A custom chair, when built right, is none of these things.

Just, I’d love more House fanwork that embraces the idea of mobility aids. No, I don’t mean make House randomly decide “oh I’m gonna accept help now” and make him OOC. No, I mean let’s actually dive into House’s feelings about mobility aids, create some fanworks where maybe he works through some of his internalized ableism and self hatred and lets himself be accommodated. I hate seeing fic after fic that makes it seem like it’s some tragedy that House needs crutches or a walker or wheelchair. I want it to be normalized. Disability can be progressive and that’s just life. Yes, it’s upsetting. Yes, it can be sad to those involved. No, it doesn’t mean the end of the world.

Now I think it’s time to talk in regards to the treatment of his chronic pain, outside of the way he accommodates his mobility. I think that, while this is probably related to the writers wanting to stick to the “addicted to Vicodin” plot line, House’s pain management in the series, sucks, to put it lightly. I’ve been to multiple pain management programs (both at formal PM clinics and informal PM done by other specialists) and any doctor worth their salt would have had him on some sort of nerve pain medication and probably some form of muscle relaxer from the very beginning. While, yes, one could argue that House is on these medications and it’s just not mentioned, I really really don’t think that’s the case. You could also argue that he may have been offered these things, and simply refused them. This could very well be the case. However, that doesn’t erase the fact that these things could be helpful.

When House is off Vicodin, they have him substantiating off of exclusively ibuprofen. I’ve had chronic pain bad enough to need opioids treated with high doses of ibuprofen and in my personal experience, it doesn’t do shit. It just upsets your stomach and risks kidney issues and doesn’t actually help with the pain. The fact that just because he deals with addiction he doesn’t get proper pain management is BONKERS to me.

I understand that they were, within the shows canon, attempting to claim that at least some of the pain was psychological. Just because someone’s pain is psychological doesn’t mean you do not treat it. There are plenty of ways to treat psychological pain. Again, one could argue that House simply refused. Again, I’d say that you might be right.

You notice that I say that House very realistically could’ve refused various treatments that could make his life better. Just like how it is with his cane, I believe this is an effort at self punishment. If these efforts at self punishment are conscious or not is genuinely up to you. I personally view it as unconscious, but again, as I said in the beginning, I’m interpreting this the way I see things.

Anyways, just needed to get my thoughts out there, as a crippled person who’s been obsessed with House since before they realized that their chronic pain wasn’t normal. Since before they realized that the word disabled was something that could be applied to them.

Feel free to reply to this with thoughts or questions and y'all are more than welcome to DM me to pick my brain about this!

[luckyythirteen]

How do you imagine Wesker loving someone romantically? I often think it's very hard, almost impossible to make him tick. And if he does, afraid it's may be already too late, at that point he probably did some irreparable damages to his relationship with said person...

But I headcanon he would be the kind of man who falls hard for the "unobtainable", despite Wesker himself deemed that unpractical. Shit like "some things are beautiful because they can't be obtained"

I imagine it's hard for Wesker to fall in love as you said. Personally, I headcanon him as someone who falls on the aromantic spectrum like I do. In an interview regarding him, his voice actor states that he thinks Wesker's attraction isn't gender specific or "person specific". He is intrigued by people who can match him physically or mentally, which implies he enjoys someone who is hard to get or at least someone on his own level.

I digress, I don't see him as the man to canonically pursue a relationship due to his line of work and the dangers he puts himself or others in. He wouldn't be able to hold one down realistically, not because he's incapable but the guy has a lot on his plate with his world conquest plan yknow?? I think if anything he'd might indulge a cat and mouse game or he'd do a fling but that's about it.

Now if we're talking hypothetically, saying he can work in a relationship and wants to, I think he'd be an... Alright partner. You'd have to be able to keep up with him and keep his interest, though. I think he's the type of man to express his love through actions rather than words. He may not serenade his love to you, but he's let you hug him and he doesn't stiffen or push you away.

He may not constantly say the phrase, "I love you," but he'll take note of your favorite foods, your interests and provide them for you and indulge. He'll ask how your day is, he'll sit with you and even let you be in his personal space while he works. Most of all he's protective of you, he doesn't want you to get hurt. You're very precious to him and the idea of something happening to you tears him apart inside... He may not be a gentle man at all, but with you he will be. It just may not present itself in the stereotypical ways.

[brighan]

Because I already went on a rant on Twitter: Regarding some comments I'm seeing about Amir (Warframe 1999) and his lines/personality:

I knew some people would complain about how bubbly he is and thinking of him as a child or less of an adult than the rest of the Hex. It is very clear he's written in a (assuming, no need to clarify from DE because it already resonates) AuADHD code.

As someone in the spectrum it is extremely hurting to see people making said assumptions. I am used to be seen and dismissed from important conversations just because I have a bubbly personality (and I'm read as a woman, but that's another topic) and clear autistic traits.

The fact someone behaves in a certain way doesn't mean people have the right to reduce them to a child. Again, it is extremely damaging, rude and plain ignorant. You don't know how my mind works. You don't know the complexity of it all. I don't know everything and I give people the benefit of the doubt and I try to be as nice as possible in the healthiest way for everyone involved with me.

That doesn't mean I'm naive or have a less complex thought process than you.

So, yeah, I am begging people who are making these kind of assumptions to stop infantilizing people in the spectrum. Not sure if the right word is ableist, in *MY* specific case I don't consider it a disability, but for sure it is rude as fuck in my opinion.

Oh and also my Drifter is going to bang him 💅

I am keeping my expectations realistic about what we will get in game, but there will be nasty in my sketchbook. Cope with it.

Yet again, in a more jokinly/positive tone, DE passively calling me out *again*, this time with the Volt 'tysm. I projected my gender (before I realized my identity) in my tenno, then forgot about their hair color and tinted mine purple before my break with the game, and now this.

Me Volt/Amir

🤝

The

[phoukanamedpookie]

hot take from me: I don't think Azula needs a redemption arc. I think she needs help, therapy, and care.

But saying that a child who was abused and who yes did bad things need to be redeemed or to redeem themselves leaves such a bad taste in my mouth.

What children do when they are trying to survive abuse and are in survival mode can not really be judged as good/bad dichotomy.

Because that child is not existing in world of good/bad, they are not making choices in regards in this moral thing to do, the good thing, the right thing vs not.

They are living in a world of will this help survive this moment yes or no. Even if they don't realize.

Azula should and can apologize for hurting people, but she doesn't need to be redeemed.

And in turn the adults in Azula's life should be apologizing to her and be trying to right by her. Ursa and Iroh failed her and did not protect her.

Azula and Zuko were both abused and abandoned by both their parents in diffrent ways.

Zuko at least had Iroh to help him, to guide him, and to step in as a parental figure. He also had some positive memories associated with their mother.

This is not to say one's abuse is worse or better than the other because that is not how abuse and trauma works. It is simply point out that Zuko thankfully had a support system, a safety net where Azula had none.

That lack of a support system is very damaging. Azula is some who has been hurt and who is realistically deals with a lot of fear even if she puts up this fearless aura about her.

She like Zuko has trauma. She like Zuke deserves understanding and compassion.

She like Aang, Toph, Katara, Sokka, and Zuko is a child too.

👆👆👆

Also, lemme dig up that post I made about Azula just starting to gain a yetzer tov because she was literally too young to have one before.

[ozzgin]

Since you are taking requests can you do an hc of prehistoric mommy that is covered head to toe with scars like be it lightning scars, burn scars, claw marks

I’ve gotten several requests regarding a heavily scarred reader and I do like the idea a lot, although headcanon wise I’m having trouble coming up with a whole story around it. In the sense that half of the Baki characters are covered in scars and it seems to be something accepted without any questioning? There might be some initial curiosity, like “Holy cow that’s a lot of scars, I wonder what the backstory is”, but given that reader routinely hunted down dinosaurs it’d probably just be assumed as collateral damage.

I had the mental image of someone like Baki, Jack or Hanayama comparing their wounds to yours and telling you a little bit about how they got their own scars since you can’t really communicate yet. That’d be very cute. Reader would just sit next to them and quietly listen, focused despite having no idea what the words mean. After a while she figures out through all the pointing that they’re talking about their battle markings, so she begins gesturing her own stories in front of the very amused and entertained men. So I think it’d be more of an intimate experience with equally scarred characters.

I was actually planning to draw something to that effect (since I can’t offer much in terms of headcanons), but then I stumbled upon a bodybuilding photo on my Instagram explore and had the urge to do this instead. There’s something very tempting about presenting Yuujirou as a tiny man next to a scarred, tough looking prehistoric woman. Less defined muscles this time compared to my first depiction of her because realistically speaking a solid body is more efficient for strength.

[aqours]

i've shared my thoughts on this in dms with like 3 people so i wanted to put it on paper so i can always get it

so i think one of the biggest questions that goes around tcoaatl is regarding it's incest, asked in both good faith and by annoying antis: "so is the incest... actually like portrayed as bad? or is it just hot and fetishized and romanticized?" and y'know, i think the most genuinely HONEST answer regarding that is this: "it's both." (the later mostly romanticized)

the Graves siblings have a horrifically co-dependent relationship which even the steam page is very happy to make you remember, multiple characters acknowledge it, it's a fucking awful terrible thing and you can make decisions that acknowledge it and its obvious to anyone with two eyes and a brain capable of basic critical thought that realistically while you can do w/e you want in a fanfic in a canon sense there's no way gravecest cannot result in what will ultimately be a lifetime of suffering even if both parties don't want to admit it. you're condemning them both to a chance of ever finding real genuine happiness that can exist without the other

that being said? they're both conventionally attractive and the game doesn't really shy from making its physical intimacy look hot and it's clear that nemlei doesn't want that physical intimacy to be disgusting or something that will make you feel ashamed if you intentionally pursued

i feel like this is the aspect of tcoaal that is debated the most on all sides of the fandom and i just wanted to post my own two cents in that i think the answer is "its both." the extent of how co-dependent these two are is very clear that it's not good and that most likely in the final release the best outcome for these two will probably involve acknowledging it

but also if you were to approach nemlei and just told her "listen i just think it's hot i don't give a shit about any of that other stuff i just wanna ship them." i think nemlei herself would nod and respect your decision completely. probably feed you even more if anything

you're free to disagree with me, i just wanna state my own thoughts somewhere, so i think the answer is a very solid "it's both" when it comes to this. tcoaal portrays the incest as horribly psychologically damaging for these two but also at the same time it's obviously not gonna judge you for liking it and if you find it hot nemlei would never judge you for it i think

but i just cannot in any capacity really take the argument it's a hard one or another seriously. i think if tcoaal wanted gravecest to only be seen as bad and horrifying that nemlei would've made different decisions in writing it bc it's obvious she COULD have if she wanted to, but also it's not fair to say it just makes incest look hot and sexy when it does show how fucked up it's characters are because of it

so... just wanted to say yeah- i think it's both

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten 17, MAG 17 The Boneturner's Tale

Honestly, if my high school bully got their hands on a Leitner I think basically the same thing would happen.

MAG 17 analysis, spoilers ahead.

Facts: Statement of Sebastian Adekoya regarding a new acquisition at Chiswick Library.

Statement Notes: "Books are amazing, aren't they?"

The first line of this statement is so hopeful. Sebastian approaches what happened to him with this strange light pouring out of him. He takes on the world with a realistic yet deeply optimistic outlook. His character feels out of place in the Magnus Archives world because, although he's afraid, he isn't sick or sad or angry or desperate. Despite the horror he finds himself facing, there isn't any actual disruption to his routine, meaning he doesn't have to change in the face of danger. Adekoya is a static character in a dynamic setting.

As a book lover, Adekoya uses a lot of flowery language in his statement. He spends the first minute giving a speech on the beauty and power of language and the written word. He serves as an incredible contrast to Jared. They don't necessarily have conflicting beliefs, but conflicting focuses. Adekoya deals in the beautiful and abstract, Hopworth deals in the messy and real. Language is art, humans are meat.

Since Sebastian and Jared are around the same age, and Adekoya just graduated college, we can assume Jared is about 22-23 during the events of this statement. His characterization was very realistic. People often joke about hearing the bully of their secondary school getting arrested, but it's very different when you realize the violent but ultimately harmless kid you knew has become a violent and harmful adult. Often, that violent energy is turned against family members first. Those who tried to help, those who enabled, those who don't deserve it.

The end of the statement was very frightening. The violence enacted against Adekoya is a show of power by Jared and, in turn, The Boneturner's Tale. The Magnus Archives is an eldritch horror story, and The Bonetruner's Tale holds power no human can possibly understand. It is capable of enacting violence no human can understand. Its power is so great, we are left to assume a car killed Sebastian, because no living thing could do that much damage. Right?

In addition to Mike Crew's strange strategy of dropping the Leitner off in a random library, he chose to file it as Trainspotting of all things. This means that not only did Crew check out Trainspotting from the library, but he now owns the copy. Does this matter at all to the plot or metaplot of TMA? No. Does it matter to my heart? Yes.

Entity Alignment: Another strong Flesh episode. When Hopworth's mother is described as missing bones in her arm, I began to wonder if Boneturner was how Hopworth first began harvesting for the meat pit. Early on, he likely had no knowledge of the ritual. But since Boneturner is what allowed him to steal the flesh of others, it would make sense that he would utilize it to feed and serve the entity.

If not, and Jared only used Boneturner to steal for and add to himself as his powers developed, there is something to be said about the Flesh's affiliation with greed. Humans eat meat partly out of necessity; it's accessible, it's filling, it's fuel. But the excess of meat consumption, the ever-increasing animal slaughter across the world at the expense of our own health and environment? Is that because we're hungry, or because we just want more?

I also noted how Sebastian didn't seem attracted to Boneturner at all. There's a motif with Leitners regarding them "calling out" to people and drawing innocents into their dark ways. But clearly, it's not indiscriminate. The isn't an apple of discord or ring of power situation; Leitners are capable of choosing who they want to attach themselves to. While I don't know much about the Canterbury Tales (feel free to educate me in the notes), it does seem that as the book makes Hopworth stronger, he makes it stronger by feeding its written desire for blood and violence.

Character Notes: Who speaks to their boss like that. Who. I get Elias needs him but is it not suspicious to everyone else when his employee can just say stuff like that? "Fine, fine, I'll be more lovely?" You sarcastic bastard?

This is a...weird intro to Elias to say the least. While of course Jon is being rude and they're passively sniping at each other, Elias does seem calm. He seems responsible and put together. He's not antagonistic in any way. If anything, Jon is the aggressor in the conversation. Up to this point, Jon has been the listener's only lens to view this world through. So when we are presented with a new character to compare him to, and Jon is snippy and rude, we are essentially forced into seeing this character as calm and rational. There was no way for the audience to ever perceive Elias as the villain. Which is exactly what he wanted.

Jon also states the Institute's goal is to "record and study, not interfere or contain." This makes sense for an academic institution (you wouldn't expect a forensic research lab to arrest criminals and keep them on-site), but it becomes interesting in the context of The Magnus Protocol. The Office of Incident Assessment and Response explicitly intends to respond to the supernatural even though it's still questionable how/if they do. Jon's initial goal isn't to take action against the entities, but he is more or less forced to. As of now in TMAGP, Sam wants to be involved in the supernatural, but is forced into a state of inaction.

Also Elias calls him "Jonathan." That doesn't mean anything but god to be a fly on that wall.

There's also the strange implication in this conversation that Rosie is in charge of the recording equipment. If this is true, it clearly doesn't last as Jon slowly becomes lord of the tape recorders. But still, the only reason I can think of for Elias giving his assistant access to the tapes is to indulge her "nosy Rosie" habits. She seems to only have access to the digital recordings, so none of the "real" stuff. But she can still listen to other people's private thoughts and experiences. Elias wants her to look into other people's business so he can keep her on in the world to come.

The first indicator of Martin's absence. "Stomach problems." There is the continued question of Prentiss' lucidity. In her statement regarding the wasp's nest, she seems to be losing her grip on reality. Several statement givers describe her and other infected as mindless monsters. But, she clearly was conscious enough to concoct an elaborate story of Martin's illness and maintain text communications with the archival staff. She would also need to be lucid if she was consciously conducting the corruption ritual, but it's equally possible the ritual was driven by animalistic and unnameable drives given to her by the entity. The Corruption needs Prentiss mindless enough to serve as a source of nameless protruding rot, but still sentient enough to A) not be captured and B) fulfill its worldly tasks. This is another instance of TMA dream logic: Prentiss is lucid enough to lie and form plans, but too far gone to be reasoned with.

[sunstonez]

Something that makes me rather uncomfortable as a physically disabled, mentally disabled/brain damaged individual, is this hard line that tumblr c-punk (cripple punk) communities have been placing in the sand regarding what conditions "do" or "don't" qualify for c-punk.

Yes, c-punk is 100% percent a movement for the physically disabled, and specifically the mobility aid user; not the able bodied- regardless if they are disabled in a cognitive way. I am not here to argue otherwise.

However there seems to be this growing misconception that things like autism, intellectual disabilities, and even brain damage do not have a physical impact, or physically disabled those who have it. That chiming in as someone with these conditions is inherently disrespectful, and that these conditions alone could not be physically disabling.

But that's just.... Not true. Realistically, the more "severe" forms of these conditions almost always come with a slew of physical symptoms. Trouble with coordination and movement. A poor ability to swallow, or to feed one's self. Inability to safely go to the washroom without aid, and many, many more. Not only does this often require 1:1 aid, but it typically leads to the use of mobility aids, and other medical supplies/assistance. It leads one to be physically disabled by their cognitive condition alone, and nothing else.

I want to encourage people to think twice about the large, sweeping statements they're making about these conditions, and to reflect on how it must feel to those who don't fit that narrative. Yes, there are always going to be people who are not physically disabled by virtue of being autistic, intellectually disabled, brain damaged, etc. But when you act like it's all of them, you do a massive disservice to the (often overshadowed, and dismissed) people who are.

[goldenshrikecomic]

this kinda loops in with that asked you received regarding trans deer- how do the antlers work in gs ? :o

honestly this might've already been answered in greater detail so mb if I jus didn't see it, but is it possible for them to be like filed down or chipped off? and if it is, do they regrow over time or are they small forever ??

anywho, hope ur well !!! ^^

The deer grow one pair of antlers, and if they're damaged or broken off, they won't grow back. The tine growth differs from realism too, but I don't have any noteworthy specifics about that. In real life the antlers follow certain order where they sprout tines, but in GS does what it wants.

All this is mostly just to keep me from going crazy. There's too many antlered heads for me to keep track of seasons, growth patterns, velvet business, researching how the heck fantasy antlers would grow realistically. They get one pair of antlers and if you lose it, you lose it!

[sgt-tombstone]

remembered your "The 141's (and co.) reactions to The Wobble" post and now i'm curious about how they would react to this:

www. tumblr. com/in-mutual-weirdness/727545670822690816

link, ohhh my god I love that video, it’s one of my favorite improv dance videos

genuinely and realistically, I don’t think any of the 141 would touch anything like that with a twenty-foot pole because toxic masculinity and its associated rigidity is so embedded in military culture

BUT, because we like to have fun here, it reminds me of an au I wanted to write a while ago but never got around to (what else is new lmao) where Ghost was raised in a very strict dancing discipline (think ballet or traditional ballroom dance) where he had to always be in control and within rigid guidelines, but he got hurt in his mid-20s and had to give it up. He has a lot of trauma regarding dance, especially bc his father and dance instructor were horrifically abusive, teaching him to place all of his self-worth on his body and dancing ability, so having to stop is full of mixed emotions.

Then Price, the owner of a dance studio and one of the only people in the dance community that Ghost still trusts, reaches out about an improv dance class he’s holding. The purpose, he tells Ghost, is to spontaneously create movement, to free the body from habitual patterns. Ghost is… skeptical, to say the least. He attends, because Price asked him to, but he’s awful at it. He’s stiff and unyielding, body not used to the freedom that improv dance requires, and he’s constantly stepping on toes or running into his dance partners because they do something unexpected, something outside of the rule set that Ghost had grown up with.

Price convinces him to keep coming back—it’s something that needs practice and perseverance, he argues, but Ghost doesn’t really get better.

And then Soap joins the class.

He’s wild and reckless, full of endless, manic energy, and he’s a riot to dance with. Everyone loves to partner with him because he reacts so effortlessly, his movements fluid and dynamic. He’s a great leader, but he also knows when to be a support for his dance partner. Ghost watches him from the sidelines and hopes that he never gets picked to dance with him.

He does, of course, because the pairings are random and it was bound to happen eventually, and as soon as they meet on the studio floor, Ghost knows it’s going to be a disaster. Their styles are just too different; he’s too rigid, Soap is too fluid; he’s too slow, Soap is too fast; he’s too damaged, Soap is too innocent. It will never work.

But it does, somehow. Ghost sticks to what he knows, the strict regimented dance steps that he’d been taught, that had been drilled into his mind, and Soap… dances around him. He’s always exactly where Ghost needs him to be, adding in a flair between steps, keeping the improv fresh and spontaneous while also consistently returning to Ghost’s side, to his pace, making sure they stay in step the whole time. It’s breath-taking and awe-inspiring and the most terrifying thing that Ghost has ever seen. He’s addicted to it immediately.

Over the course of months, Soap manages to draw Ghost out of his shell, to drag Simon to the surface, and with it comes small measures of freedom. Simon starts deviating slightly, almost self-consciously, tiny little additions that would’ve ended in verbal or physical reprimands in the pst but now only earn blinding grins from Soap. They learn each other’s language without ever speaking, though they start talking a lot too. Soap hangs off of Simon like a burr, constantly chatting on the sidelines as they watch the other dancers, mindless, inane babble that Simon never really pays attention to; he loves the sound of Soap’s voice, and Soap doesn’t mind Simon’s lack of response.

They grow closer and closer, until their dances are so thick with tension that Price genuinely starts to hesitate pairing them together for dances. But he always relents because he knows what Simon has been through, had seen it happen and had been powerless to stop it, and seeing him open up like this is a gift worth all the brain bleaching in the world.

He changes his mind when he catches them in the studio’s supply closet, clothes hanging haphazardly, Simon’s broad back hiding Soap mostly from view but doing nothing to cover his own bare arse, and Price bans them from stepping foot in the studio for a week. They take it like the blessing in disguise it really is and scamper off like embarrassed teenagers, and secretly, after they’ve disappeared, Price can only smile fondly

[nunalastor]

Buckshot Anon here! As the second option on the poll, I'm going to cover the death of Nunalastor blog creation, Detective Guy Winters. His death was attributed to a vague terminal disease from months-long exposure to a highly toxic black mold.

Something that needs to be clarified right off the bat is that mold does not cause cancer on its own. Black mold may cause a plethora of other problems, but there is no evidence mold directly causes cancer. Contrary to what anyone would believe when they hear about a terminal illness, cancer may not be the culprit.

Theoretically: If his disease was cancer from the beginning, what would need to happen is for the mold itself to have cancerous traits. Fungi can develop a type of nucleus cancer, though this almost never happens under natural conditions and is more likely to occur from being cultured in a lab. If the mold had cancerous traits, any mold that lingered in Guy's system from breathing it in would have to die and then metastasize throughout his body, giving him cancer not with his own cells. Just to give you all something new to fear besides sepsis and coconut water.

For this to be viable, Guy would need a highly compromised immune system, or his immune system would have fought it off long before it reached that point. There was a man who got fatal cancer from a tapeworm, but it’s believed the foreign cancer only managed to kill him because he also had HIV. There is a way for Guy’s immune system to not have fought it off without having HIV, and that would be because he was exposed to the mold for so long that his body no longer registered it as something foreign to fight against. His immune system would still need to be some level of compromised, just not with the intensity of HIV. All of this being said, the chances of all of the appropriate factors lining up to make this possible are so slim that this was more a thought experiment than anything else.

Realistically: The disease that killed Guy would likely be pulmonary fibrosis. For those who haven't heard of this disease, pulmonary fibrosis is referring to scarring in the lung tissue that makes it significantly harder for the lungs to properly function. This disease is considered to be terminal because it is a progressively worsening disease with no known cure.

How quickly pulmonary fibrosis progresses and worsens in a patient varies from person to person. Some people may become ill very fast while others may be relatively stable for months or years with nothing but some shortness of breath and a persistent dry cough before it becomes a life-threatening problem. The average survival rate for someone with pulmonary fibrosis is between three and five years after diagnosis, closer to three in the cases of those who go without treatment or have very little.

Regarding treatments, Guy is in an interesting position. Pulmonary fibrosis didn't have a clinical description until 1944, which might make it seem like no treatments existed. However, silicosis is a type of pulmonary fibrosis, and this was a great health concern during the 1930s. While there wasn't a cure for this disease, variants of it were in the public consciousness, and that could have a positive impact on Guy's life expectancy because even if not much, doctors would be attempting treatments. As Guy would be able to confirm he wasn't breathing in silica, he wouldn't be diagnosed, but his symptoms would be similar enough that he might be given access to the same treatments being attempted for silicosis.

His life expectancy would still be automatically on the shorter end because of quality of medicine, but if his condition was stable for a longer period beforehand, he could still live for around five to seven years.

The decisive factor in what would finish him off also varies, as death from pulmonary fibrosis on its own would be respiratory failure once there is too much damage for the lungs to function at all. However, just as commonly death comes from a complication related to the disease and not the disease itself.

Remember when I mentioned mold doesn't directly cause cancer? If Guy were to develop cancer, it would be because pulmonary fibrosis comes with an increased risk of lung cancer. This is still not the most likely thing to happen, but it's worth mentioning.

What is more likely to finish Guy off if not respiratory failure or heart failure as a result of the heart overworking to compensate for partially blocked pulmonary arteries, is other complications or diseases in the lungs. As the disease progresses, other problems may appear such as blood clots or collapsed lungs. Another issue would be lung diseases like tuberculosis and pneumonia. Tuberculosis and pneumonia just so happened to be some of the leading causes of death in the 1930s, lower than they were in years past, but still up there in terms of fatality.

In summary: Guy suffered from the incurable disease pulmonary fibrosis. His disease may have progressed into cancer, but that is less likely. He most likely died either from respiratory failure or from a disease like tuberculosis or pneumonia he couldn't properly fight off.

If he became sick in 1929, his date of death would be anywhere from 1932-1936.

👀