#defibrillator cost

[digitalasia]

We are AED defibrillator supplier

What is an AED ?

If you're wondering what an AED is – and why they seem to be located in most offices and public buildings, you're not alone. In fact, because these devices are now commonly available, more people than ever before are curious about them. So – just what is an AED? An AED, or automated external defibrillator, is used to help those experiencing sudden cardiac arrest. It's a sophisticated, yet easy-to-use, medical device that can analyze the heart's rhythm and, if necessary, deliver an electrical shock, or defibrillation, to help the heart re-establish an effective rhythm

[holdenlivia]

Automatic External Defibrillator 0-40ᴼ

Abimed Automatic External Defibrillator is a portable device for sudden cardiac arrest, delivering electrical energy to the heart. Operating at 0 to 40°C, it features a 9-second analysis time, 8-second charge to 150 J, 4-second charge to 50 J/100 J, 20 audible prompts, and tool-free cleaning.

[saltpepperbeard]

💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼🤡🤡🤡

[tragedia]

i was thinking about shiri's magic re: spirit healing. she's very in tune with spirits and part of her being quite knowledgeable about demons is that you have to be careful about what you're summoning. however, i do believe that her abilities are more tied to the physical, as in, she feels the bones she mends, how the blood is supposed to flow, where your nerves connect. she can sense which part of the body has been infected, locate the root cause more easily, that sort of thing.

shiri's very focused on the aspect of sustaining and preserving the living, however this also ties heavily with why she's branded as a bit of a heretic come post 5th blight, and that is because her research borderlines practices branded by others as forbidden, such as blood magic or even necromancy, a little bit.

[hayanwulf]

IronStrange:

One of them performs CPR on the other.

Fun fact: a defibrillator can’t actually revive a patient who ‘flatlined’.

Shocking, I know. I guess that’s modern media misrepresentation for you.

PS: At the cost of being a lil hypocritical.. the chance of getting an unshockable cardiac arrest (aka flatline or ‘asystole’) in our scenario, and then also surviving it with CPR, is ridiculously, laughably low. So, Stephen really shouldn’t have survived here, or flatlined in the first place... But hey, the movie itself threw realism out the window, so you can’t tell me shit.

The empty mug comically slipped from his grip, meeting the floor in an ear-deafening shatter.

Tony did not hear it, however, not over the pounding of heartbeat in his ears that immediately followed the almost-heart attack he got at the sight of a literal portal on fire inside his workshop, out of which stumbled his ex-fiance who he had not seen for eight months, hands clutching bloody chest, face drained of color and contorted in pain, steps staggering and making him crash against an equipment.

“The hallucinations are getting crazy,” Tony murmured.

“It’s not a hallucination, Boss,” FRIDAY announced, an urgency to her voice, pulling Tony out of his disbelief-induced state of shock — bless his AI. “Doctor Strange needs immediate medical attention! He’s been stabbed on the chest.”

Tony’s heart only lurched further at the last bit, but he forced his feet to move, shoved all thoughts to the back of his mind, beelining straight for his very mortally injured ex-fiance who was now leaning against god knew what, looking up at Tony with wild, terrified eyes.

“Cardiac Tamponade,” Stephen muttered, his voice weak with a bit of tremble to it, as Tony came to his side to carefully support him. “There’s blood in the pericardial—”

“Shut up!” Tony snapped, felt Stephen flinch against him, and immediately cursed himself for lashing out like that for no reason. He just.. god, this was the first time Tony was seeing Stephen after seven goddamn months, and it was to find him injured — mortally injured — and the first thing Stephen spoke to him was godforsaken diagnosis of how severely close to death he was.

He looked back at the portal once and suppressed a shudder, before shifting his focus back on Stephen to help lead him over to the small infirmary that was built right next to his workshop. “Just.. what the fuck, Stephen?”

Stephen winced, throwing a glance behind his shoulder at the portal, misunderstanding what Tony truly meant. “Sorry, that’s..” He made them pause and waved a hand at the tear in reality behind them.

Tony watched in awe for a moment as the portal quickly shrank and disappeared, remnants of glowing orange dust in the air the only evidence that something had even existed there a moment ago.

“What just—” Tony cut himself off. Not important right now.

He shook his head to dispel all other thoughts and focus solely on Stephen because oh god there was so much blood, Stephen was hurt, Stephen was dying—

“FRIDAY!” He called out, voice wavering with the panic that grew in him with each passing moment as he led Stephen to the adjacent infirmary.

“There is no medical staff at the Compound, Boss..”

“Why!?” Tony asked as his heartbeat spiked at the realization, even though he already knew why.

No one lived in the Compound anymore. All of the staff had been long since dismissed.

As he led Stephen towards the nearest operating table, Tony spared only a brief moment to wonder why, despite there being nobody and nothing in this large establishment, was it that Tony continued to stay here.

He helped Stephen lay flat on the operating table and began to undo.. whatever it was that Stephen was wearing, all the while chanting under his breath, “I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this..”

“Tony,” Stephen spoke, grabbing hold of Tony’s wrist and looking him in the eye. “You can, I know it.”

Tony helplessly shook his head because he couldn’t. How could Stephen think that he could?

But, god, there was no time, no choices.

Stephen either had him, or nothing.

Tony felt the exact moment Stephen’s grip on his arm grew weak, saw his eyes flicker as he fought to keep them open.

“I trust you..” Stephen said weakly, and then passed out, his hand going limp over Tony’s.

Tony stared for a moment.

“Boss?”

FRIDAY’s voice pulled him out of his daze. He looked up at the heart graphs, then back at Stephen’s limp body, and then back up at the heart graphs to be absolutely extra sure he hadn’t lost Stephen yet. His mind was nothing but panicked haze and adrenaline, and logic fought emotion as he struggled to simply act, to do something because he was losing Stephen right in front of his eyes and oh god he needed to save him—

“FRIDAY, w-what—” He swallowed as his voice wavered, “what do I do?”

“Boss, you are close to having a panic attack—”

“And he’s close to dying, dammit! What do I do!?”

“He needs a pericardiocentesis.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“Just get the needle, second shelf from the top.”

FRIDAY guided him through the surprisingly simple, yet downright horrifying procedure of stabbing a needle straight into Stephen’s heart to drain out the blood stuck in his pericardium, decompressing the pressure on his heart. There was a large stab wound on the left side of his chest. The sight of so much blood — of Stephen’s blood — made Tony feel lightheaded, its suffocating metallic scent tangible in his mouth, tasting like copper, all the while his eyes watched the screens of vitals with sharp attention, witnessing as Stephen’s heartbeat grew weaker and weaker, every digit of drop in the heart rate making dread pool heavier in his stomach, making his gut twist sickeningly.

He was holding Stephen’s delicate, precious life in his hands and god, it was terrifying.

How did you do this every single day? Tony silently asked the man lying unconscious in front of him, the back of his eyes stinging as tears formed in them.

If Stephen died now, here, like this, Tony could never forgive himself.

It was those thoughts that roared loud in his mind, in tandem with the beeping of the heart monitor, as he held onto the needle drawing out a nauseating amount of blood.

Even after most of the clogged blood from the walls had been drained out, Stephen’s heart remained weak, his low heart rate not recovering.

And then it happened, just as he pulled out the needle.

Tony’s entire world came to a halt at that sharp, ear-deafening beep of the heart monitor.

“You need to start CPR, now!” FRIDAY spoke up immediately, voice loud and clear over the shrill beep.

“I—the defibrillat—”

“That won’t work, you have to do CPR!”

Tony didn’t question her. He trusted his babygirl, trusted her to help him save Stephen’s life, and moved up to Stephen’s face, tilting his head up, chin held in his hand.

30 compressions, 2 breaths.

He would not lose Stephen. He would not.

Steadying his resolve as he inhaled a deep breath, he pinched Stephen’s nose and then dipped down to seal their mouths together, before blowing into Stephen’s mouth, watching from the corner of his eye as Stephen’s chest rose. He repeated the action, blowing a second rescue breath into Stephen’s mouth, and then quickly moved to his chest.

Taking care to not place his hands over the stab wound currently sealed with nanites, he pushed down forcibly at Stephen’s chest and set up a fast pace, counting the compressions in his head, acutely aware of his speed as well as the relentless beeping of the heart monitor that continued to echo in the background.

After 30 compressions, he repeated the two rescue breaths, and moved to performing compressions again.

Seven.. eight.. nine..

Tony froze when the incessant beeping of heart monitor stopped, to be replaced by a barely there pulse, the graph displaying a weak heart rhythm that was all over the place.

Tony could’ve cried right then. Maybe he did.

“Don’t stop,” FRIDAY’s voice instructed him, and so he didn’t, continuing with the chest compressions.

Two more cycles passed by the time FRIDAY said, “You can shock him now, Boss.”

Tony didn’t waste another second in fetching the defibrillator. He applied the conductive gel over the two paddles before placing one on the right side of Stephen’s sternum and the other below his left nipple — thank the science gods Stephen’s injury didn’t get in the way of their placement — and let FRIDAY decide the appropriate voltage. He pressed down hard on the paddles, steering clear of any other contact to Stephen’s body as the equipment delivered shock.

The heart rhythm graph reacted immediately, and Tony watched in awe as the entire electrical activity was reset and started producing a much healthier, stable rhythm. The pulse reacted to it, quickly gaining strength.

Tony’s knees nearly buckled from the sheer intensity of relief that washed over him, watching Stephen’s heart gain its strength back right in front of his eyes.

Stephen’s eyes flew open with a start and a gasp, and Tony was immediately by his side, the defibrillator abandoned. He panted, eyes glazed and darting wildly at first, until they slowly regained focus. Tony placed a hand on Stephen’s arm, wanting to help him, wanting to give him something to anchor himself to.

But mostly to reassure his own self that Stephen was still here.

“God, that feels weird in the astral plane,” Stephen murmured, his voice a little raspy, before a weak laugh escaped his lips.

“You think this is— wow.” Stephen was laughing. It hadn’t been five minutes since Tony had pulled this man out of the claws of death and now here he was, laughing. Tony felt his body vibrate, his inside burning up with this infuriating mix of anger and.. and.. ugh! He didn’t know.

Never had he felt something so strong, so nauseatingly gut-churning before.

Christ, was this the anger that Stephen felt every time Tony had looked death in the eyes and walked the other way with a victorious smirk on his lips? Was this the exasperation he had always seen in Rhodey’s face when Tony had dismissed his own near-death experiences? Was this the horror Pepper felt every time, as she watched Tony’s gruesome injuries be patched up by Stephen?

“Tony..?” Stephen called out in a small, uncertain voice, causing Tony to turn back to him. Whatever Stephen found there, it made him flinch. Good. After a second, he tentatively added, “I’m.. sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Tony snapped. “You.. you fucking walk out on me without ever telling anything, not even a message, a note, nothing. A-and the next time I see you, you’re walking out of a wormhole with.. with a stab on your chest, bleeding all over my lab. And you’re sorry. You fucking died, Stephen!”

Tony realized that he was visibly shaking now, his breath coming in hitches as thick tears streamed down his face. He sat himself down on the edge of Stephen’s table, wiping both his hands over his entire face, just trying to collect himself. God, it felt like someone was squeezing his heart trying to make it burst.

What would he have done, had Stephen died here today? Because of his inadequacy, because he didn’t know what to do, how to act fast, how to save the life of his fiance?

A shaky hand landed on his arm, making him remove his hands from his face to turn and look down at Stephen.

His ex-fiance had a remorseful look on his face as he interlocked their fingers.

“You did an amazing job, Tony. You saved me.”

Some of Tony’s tense energy melted, and he exhaled a shaky breath with closed eyes.

Stephen was alive. Stephen was here. Because Tony had managed to save him.

“Thank you,” Stephen added after a moment.

Tony opened his eyes and glanced at Stephen from the corner of his eye. “Fuck you.”

He felt it more than heard when Stephen’s chest rumbled with a laugh, and Stephen immediately winced.

Right, the wound must hurt like a bitch.

“Hold on,” Tony said and went to fetch a fresh needle and a vial of painkiller.

A minute later, he unceremoniously dumped the used needle on the appropriate bin as he spoke, “So what’s up with the glowing wormholes and your LARP wizard costume?” He leaned himself against an equipment near Stephen’s table, who was now sitting upright, putting the said LARP costume back on. “Or do we wanna talk about who wanted to roleplay too realistic murder mystery with you? Oh, I have a better idea. How about we start from where the hell did you fuck off to in Nepal?”

Stephen winced, and this time it wasn’t from the physical pain. “I shouldn’t have left you like that?”

“Yeah? Well, good thing that I’m used to being left behind by the people I trust,” Tony spoke, voice laced with venom. A memory flashed in his mind. Blood tainting the white of snow, the feel of metal growing lethally cold all around his body, the dead weight of a dead arc reactor sitting over his chest.

He suppressed a shiver, shoving the memory away.

Stephen, of course, knew nothing of the said memory, and a hint of confusion mixed with hurt flashed over his features. “I.. I’m really sorry, Tony. I have to go.”

Tony blinked, doing a double take of what he’d just heard. “I’m sorry, did you just say that you have to go?”

“Yes.”

“Where!?” Tony snapped, not quite able to hide the irritation in his voice.

Stephen bit his lower lip, expression twisting in contemplation, clearly weighing his options about what he wanted to tell Tony. He then sighed and looked up at Tony.

Tony didn’t know what answer he had expected to hear.

‘I moved on.’ ‘I have another life now, one without you.’ ‘Stop trying to follow me.’

But what he got wasn’t something he’d have expected to hear in a thousand years.

“I was learning magic in Nepal.”

It left him staring dumbfounded, simply trying to grasp what he was hearing.

Stephen sighed again, averting his eyes. “You saw the portal, right?”

Tony swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling too dry as a new, terrifying kind of realization dawned on him. “Yeah.”

Stephen closed his eyes. “There are.. more like us. Good and bad. And the bad ones are going to try to destroy this world, with magic.” He got off the table then, getting on his feet, and stood a foot away from Tony, looking him in the eyes. “I have to go, Tony.”

Too much. This was all too much. First he watched Stephen stumble out of the goddamn portal, watched him die on the table, resuscitated him.. now he was learning that..

Magic.

Stephen was magic.

He’d been learning magic on Nepal, all this time, while Tony was left fumbling alone trying to gather even the tiniest scrap of information on this man, just enough to know that he was fine, that he was alive.

Tony was left with an odd mix of unadulterated fury and debilitating fear bubbling beneath his skin.

Hesitantly, Stephen reached out and took one of Tony’s hands in his shaky grip, brought it to his mouth, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the back on his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said one last time and let go of Tony’s hand, turning to walk away.

Tony caught his arm before he had fully turned, making him pause and look back at Tony.

“I’m coming too,” Tony declared, letting his determination shine in his tear-streaked eyes.

Stephen slowly shook his head. “There will be magic, Tony.”

Tony spread his arms, summoning Mark XLVII, which flew into the infirmary from his workshop, opened up and quickly wrapped itself around Tony’s body in one quick, flawless motion, only leaving his head uncovered. He could see it in Stephen’s awestruck expression that he was impressed by its smoothness and elegance.

“I’m coming,” Tony repeated, “and that’s final.”

Coming because he would not back down in the face of magic. Coming because he had a duty to this world.

Coming because he would not let Stephen walk into danger all by himself.

Stephen looked at him from one eye to the other, swallowed, and nodded once.

“Close your eyes, I have to open a portal.”

Tony did, trusting Stephen.

[sketchfanda]

A Little Moxxie Love Party

Shooting Star

Now when you had experiences like that fateful summer she and her brobro went through when they were 12 going 13, followed by hitting the jackpot when it came to puberty and hormones? Mabel knew normality was not something to expect to be a constant in her life so you can imagine the mixed thoughts she'd had reardgingshe’s been hearing something on the internet. But when it seemed that even Pacifica and Tambry by their own admissions, even, admitted to trying this thing, she figured why the hell not, right? This was how we came to find the busty college Pines girl in the midst of setting up a certain ritual her two aforementioned gal pals had recently come to learn about from the peculiar world of the web, all set and ready to light the central candle that'd get this party started.

Her reasons for doing so were simple, partly it was out of curiosity and she was lookingto kill some time she decided why not, right?! Okay so yeah she was on a bit of a dry spell, her romantic and sex life were hand in hand in terms of total duds and failures. Like the one guy who blew his load just from getting horny or the guy who couldn't manage to get it up even after trying to punch his own groin and shock it with a tazer as a makeshift defibrillator, don't ask, just don't!! So yeah some ritual that wouldn't bring a reality warping dorito or cost her soul and for as long as this candle would burn, she'd have a hunky demon boy toy?

She could feel her thighs becoming soaked with love nectar flowing from her quivering, needy slit as she began conducting the summoning ceremony. Visions of an incubus version of Kaz or Skylar, perhaps a wild Ceberus who'd knot her and ensure human men would be ruined for her!? Or some rampant tentacle beast like out of those damn hentais!! But as soon as the infernal smoke and mirrors light show played its course, the feisty lusty shooting star couldn't help but feel her libido deflate like a balloon losing its air or helium as she beheld the results of this total gyp. Now come on people, you've read this story long enough to know who it is, like I'm really gonna insult your intelligence?!

Moxxie:*A script of all things in his hands, clad in just a silk bathrobe and sitting in those sort of chairs you'd find a movie director in at times, our resident favourite possum blinked like an owl as he beheld his surroundings. Putting the document he'd been in the midst of reading aside as he gained a deadpan expression on his sweet freckled face when he noticed the clearly disappointed Mabel and recognised the magical circle he was in. Of course it was this whole thing again, right when he was set for a personal spa day before an upcoming shoot. He figured it'd be best to do both himself and her a favour as he cut right to the point, getting up from his seat as he undid his robe and exposed his naked imp body before her.*"Alright so how do you want this to start?"

Whatever disappointment or downer Mabel had been feeling before was now non existent as she laid her eyes on that big Imp cock, her libido surging with a renewed burst of lust. All that was on her mind right now was that sweet possum taking that shotgun between her legs and start going off on her, as she was soon naked and kneeling on the floor. Squatting down as she had her legs hugged around Moxxie's waist, looking up at him with lusty worship burning in her eyes as she gave a thirsty, passionate power-sucking blowjob. Slobbering all over the crimson length and girth uncaring that she'd suffocate as she deepthroated it, intent on planting sloppy kisses on his sweet little stomach and those jizz loaded balls of his.

Just the scent and taste of his pre as it dazzled her tongue was flooding her brain with raw, erotic bliss to a point she was feeling like she was getting drunk and high off of her own horny state of mind. Which might be how she came to find herself experiencing her own little pornographic montage in a hazy, surrealist like manner as she soon came to find her world being rocked by every sweet, hot, pulsing inch of Moxxie's length and girth. The imp currently mounted atop her as he took her from behind while she stood bent over against her bedroom window. Clasping the curtains for dear life as she stood on the tips of her toes, legs shaking and tits swaying as her ass jiggled and clapped to the impact of the sweet possum's jackhammering pelvis.

But of course Moxxie was only just getting started as Mabel found him proceeding to not only put any and every previous sexual partner to shame in terms of his endowment but his demonic sexual skill and experience. His quite equally gifted tongue and mouth also talented in working some erotic magic on her as he sucked and licked away on her juicy tits, all the while folding and plowing her in a mating press. her face a raw ahegao as pink glowing hearts radiated in her eyes, drooling shamelessly as those heavy red balls smacked her bubble butt. The bed shaking and creaking as her lewd cries and howls of pleasure echoed throughout the whole of the Falls from the town to possibly all of Oregon. She didn't care who heard her, let them all know that she, Mabel Pines, was having the best fuck of her life from a little sex god out of Hell!!

Orgasm after orgasm, position after position with her womb getting hammered, her throat and mouth stuffed and her ass tapped like a bongo drum. The shooting star babe finding her room trashed in this sexual tornado with her bed broken, walls and sheets alike becoming soaked with sweat and juices as her little imp Casanova kept bringing her to the peak of ecstasy. Missionary, Doggy, cowgirl to prone bone all leading to her in his embrace in a seated lotus, bouncing on his bucking lap as they made out. Tongues dancing as they shared one intense simultaneous climax together, causing Mabel's erotic adrenaline rush to finally crash as her body felt the afterglow kick in.

When she came to the next morning, the sticky and oh so sated Pines girl pouted adorably to find her little imp lover boy was already gone, no doubt the ritual had run its course. But to her delight, he'd left her a business card with his contact details on it, an unspoken promise that if she ever wanted another night of fun, just call and make arrangements. Suffice to say she was only too glad to give Pacifica and Tambry the juicy details of her wild ride on the Moxxie express as the misfit trio compared and shared points on their experience with the imp. And suddenly had themselves a flash of an idea they found themselves sharing with the goth girl forum Tambry was a regular on...suffice to say, the old Society of the Blind Eye's headquarters was about to undergo some renovations and adjustments under new management.

As Gravity Falls would soon come to be one of the foundation grounds of what would become known nationwide as the Cult of the Possum, Moxxie had been quick to express apologies to his employer for the delay in the filming schedule yesterday. His Enigma boss ever understandable about the circumstances and quick to forgive Moxxie...that is provided he share the details of course. Mr.Sketch was feeling quite inspired to start checking out the little Oregon town at this rate if so many women there had been calling up his little rookie sensation. Honestly the guy waslike a magnet for finding talent....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 Elves and an Imp!!

The land of Eostia, on the surface what you’d see was your atypical sort of fantasy world, a realm of fairies, magics and all manner of beasts and mystical beings. It just so happened of course women around these parts happened to be quite the lookers in many shapes and sizes, all very easy on the eyes. Aaaaaand unfortunately in one sequence of events became a tragic twisted playground for a perverted maniac who just decided to make all these same women glorified sexual playthings. Yeah it was that kind of story but here as you can see, that’s not going to be the case s forget the script you thought you knew…..

It had all seemed to be playin out about the usual, an ongoing war between the 7 princess knights against the dark elf queen Origa Discordia and her hoard of monsters, which lead to our resident hentai ugly bastard Volt and his mercenary army the Black Dogs being hired. Followed by them capturing the virgin dark elf queen's fortress before said bastard decided to be an opportunistic prick and go for his grand vision of a sex empire, starting with first violating the queen and her beloved right hand girl Cloe. Now it's around this part before the debauchery happens that things proceed to go off course and it all starts with an idea the arrogant deviant just had out of the blue. One that in hindsight, he should've known would go bad for him but because he was such a lucky bastard, he figured what the hell?!

This was Discordia found herself having to set up a ritual circle, inscribing key runes and markings as candles were placed in order for her to summon up a demon. All under the threat of her beloved little Cloe being held hostage and the threat of them both to watch one another get gangfuck first by orcs and then Volt and his mercs. The mercenary captain of course looking forward to the results as he was hoping to be greeted by some devilish chaos god who would bless him with all manner of twisted gifts with which to make his deviant fantasy a reality. Truth be told Discordia wasn't even sure if this would work or not, this just happened to be some old spell she came across long ago and with her magic inexplicably going on the fritz, who knows what could happen but it was either this or be violated by this hoard of scum.....

So the hoard of horny sleaze and the 2 captive elves watched on and waited as the summoning spell came into effect, the ritual enacting a veritable light show of demonic tension...before it all finished to show none other than Moxxie, sitting on the floor having been in the middle of cleaning and prepping some of his personal arsenal of firearms. Plenty confused as to where he was and what exactly the ever fuckmothering Hell was going on as he found the surprised red eyes of Discordia and Cloe blinking while the Black Dogs hoard and their leader were confused and equally disappointed. This, he heard them rant, was all the stupid elf bitch could manage for them after all that? Suffice to say we he heard some of the very unpleasant unsavoury things they said they'd do to the pair of elf women....it was a very rare case of our sweet little possum...going fucking berserk and proceeding to turn that wing of the fortress into a bloodbath.

Origa Discordia had seen and witnessed many things in her long, ageless lifespan especially when it came to horrors and violence but this was something else. As she and Cloe watched in with curious awe and sickening fascination at the violence happening before their eyes at Moxxie inflicting pain and death on Volt and his horrified, dwindling band of deviant mercs. Limbs being hacked off, bullets flying from those quite, in their eyes, fascinating portable cannons of his to using an array of knives he had on him in very creative, naturally visceral ways. Reducing the hardened soldiers and brutish Orcs and monsters to agonised, brutalised herds of screaming livestock being put through the slaughterhouse, she and Cloe couldn't help but feel...a very distinct feeling...of raw, sensual passion and arousal burning within them.

Now Cloe was no stranger to the sensations of eroticism, though not in a way she could reflect on as being positive, but she never imagined there'd ever be a day either she or her queen, an immaculate dark magic goddess of elven kind, would ever feel any sort of attraction to a man sexually. Yet all the same, queen and bodyguard alike couldn't look away, didn't want to turn away as they watched the rabid little possum Hell sent forth as a blessing in disguise end his massacre castrating and ending Volt by cutting his back open and ripping out his spine with his whole skull still attached to it. The sight of this seemingly harmless little imp, hunched over panting like a rabid animal, soaked and dripping with blood from the tips of his horns to his sweet cloven toes made their pulses race, a pleasant tingle along their spines surging as they found themselves stripping naked before him. Catching his attention as the dark elf pair beckoned his attention, calling him over to wish to shower him with a well earned reward for his vicious, cathartic act of bravery and chivalry.

This was how our fave little possum came to find himself naked and soaking up the soothing waters of a luxury warm pool in what seemed to resemble those luxury ancient Roman bathhouses. His compact little crimson skinned body glistening clean of all the blood and gore he'd amassed and feeling like he was melting from the silky caresses of the dark elf pair's hands. Cloe and Origa's ruby red eyes glowing with pink hearts of lust as they serviced the imp with a cleansing massage for his aches and pains and showered his quite impressive length and girth with their mouths and tongues. Taking turns sucking and blowing on his cock as they orally worshipped it, licking and kissing from the tip to his smooth, heavy balls. Their pussies quivering and gushing with the growing desire, the need to mate with their imp saviour and bare his children.

Such was their state of arousal that they wasted little to no time in getting right to having their little gift from the gods commence with mating and breeding them as Origa opted to go first, feeling it only fitting her new champion claim her virginity. Any pain was outweighed by the raw, sensual pleasure that surged through her very being as her glistening, wet dusky skinned body bounced and rode on Moxxie's shaft with abandon, the usually cool,stoic immaculate dark elf's face that of a wanton, horny bitch in heat as she clasped hands with her demonic saviour and urged him to cum inside her as many times as he wanted. A feeling that was plenty mutual with Cloe, who felt no hesitation or shame as she used what experience she had to her advantage when it was her turn, bent over the edge of the pool as she rallied for the imp to be as rough with her as he wanted, choke her, pull her hair. Yet as dominant as he could be, she could feel his sensual caress, oh he was fucking her certainly yet also making love to her, making her feel like a woman...and she was falling for him so badly......

Minutes turned into hours as Discordia and Cloe turned the luxury bath into a den of pleasure, mating with their studly little imp saviour as they urged and compelled him to enjoy their sexy selves. Not even ceasing their orgasmic ecstasy as they moved to the exotic Dark Elf Queen’s personal bed chambers, soiling her silk sheets with sweat and sex juices. They didn’t want to miss even one string of momentum, knowing whatever summoning ritual that brought him here would soon send him back to whatever pit spawned him especially when they wanted to ensure they'd have some buns in the oven. Their little horned possum of course gladly obliging them even if he was still confused to the how and why he was in this peculiar little fantasy world, be damned if anyone back home would believe him....

Eventually all good things had to come to an end, which was the case as the summoning spell ran its course, sending Moxxie back to where he came from. Leaving Origa and Cloe sleeping blissfully as their naked, cum soaked and stuffed bodies caressed their bellies in instinctual assurance they were sure to be pregnant. Dreaming sweet dreams of future encounters with their impish sex god as visions filled their minds of a better Eostia. One where all women would hail and serve their new god, including Celestine herself...in time, the historical records of Eostia would come to know of this as the era of the Cult of The Red Possum....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Venom-enal

Imp city was home to all manner of creatures, Hellborn and Sinner alike but unknown to them, a creature that was sent down to Hell had been among the shadows, searching for the perfect host. When they’d found one, it turned out to be a sinner that was obsessed with none other than our favorite imp assassin. So after the creature fused with her body, she felt strong, powerful, and above all else the need to have her man. To shower him with all her lust and love that if it were a rainstorm, it’d be enough to dampen the flames of Hell itself.

The hostess’ name was Linda, in life she'd been the daughter of a mob boss who had set her up in an arranged marriage to expand his family business (it was the mafia, make of that what you will), going along with it like the dutiful child she was. But in reality all she had ever wanted was to love someone and to be loved in return, someone to be her Prince Charming, to sweep her off her feet, give her a happily ever after and she thought this marriage was gonna be the perfect ending she wanted. But it wasn’t the case, because after the wedding she and her father were killed by the husband to be, who’d used he whole thing as a means to become the Don. So yeah not exactly a fairy tale ending.

So after she and the old man went to hell, she hired I.M.P. to take care of the guy as was their pitch speciality of course. Completely unaware that the Prince Charming she was looking for her whole life was right there until she saw him. It was love at first sight for her, everything she saw in Moxxie was perfect, his looks, his mannerisms, to even the sound of his sweet voice. She wanted so badly to make him hers, but when she found out that he was married, she was sad but not deterred, so she waited, biding her time to make her move, waiting to build up the courage to admit her love for moxxie and offer herself sexually to him, if not in heart than in body.

It wasn’t until this symbiotic creature bonded with her gave her that she truly felt the push she needed to get it done. That was how she came to find herself wallcrawling and webswinging her way on over to the humble abode that was Moxxie and Millie's apartment, sneaking in through a window, that her newfound super strength, from which her her slimey other half provided, effortlessly to find the imp's Wrath shortstack wife asleep beside her visiting sister Sallie May. And there sleeping so sweetly, safe and warm in bed, was the object of her sexual affections as she made her way in such with such graceful stealth that ninjas pretty much made more noise than her. Looming over his slumbering form, her black tar skin tight suited form radiating and pulsing with raw primal desire being within such proximity to the man of her wet dreams as she and her other half didn't resist letting their instincts and urges guide them into what followed next.

That was how Linda came to find herself laying on the mattress, eagerly stroking the Imp's cock, beholding his length and girth in awe at being so close to it as she breathed in his scent and showered it with lusty licks and kisses. Her symbiotic partner in crime providing her the means to deepthroat him, all the better to express her erotic devotion and desire as she sucked and blew on the shaft which had haunted her wet dreams. The sweet little Possum bucking his hips as he mumbled, clearly she wasn't the first or last woman in his life to help herself to pleasuring him in his sleep. Not that she was offended mind you, if anything it was a testament to the charisma of her Imp Prince charming as she felt her body's arousal skyrocket.

It was only natural then that the Venomous sinner upped her ante, her ooze covered bombshell form now mounting Moxxie as she bounced and rode on his lubed up cock with abandon. The absolute thrill, the sensation of his actual cock inside of her, stretching and filling her walls as it sank inch after glorious inch of its length and girth balls deep. Her smooth abs swelling with a distinct bulge indicating his reach as his fuckhammer knocked on and pounded at her womb. Symbiote and Sinner alike feeling the tidal wave like rush of orgasms sweep and rock through them in a passionate feedback loop as their needy slit held that imp shaft in the warm, wet embrace of its slutty folds.

Moxxie of course had on a sleeping blindfold so while he couldn't see this happening, he was definitely feeling it as he reached his hands out to grasp Linda's lovely hips. Surprising the She-venom sinner as she found her prince charming bucking and thrusting her with deep, hard piston motions through such stunning erotic skill and showing off his experience. Whoever he thought she was in his hazy lewd sleep was in need of a very swift fucking and so he was delivering it to her as she and her slimey better half felt their brains drown in an overdose of sexual bliss and ecstasy. The walls echoing with the clap of her booty cheeks and her wanton moans as she let dream man use her like his own personal onahole, relishing every bit of orgasmic bliss that followed.

Whatever sort of wet dreams the Sinner had about herself and Moxxie before certainly paled in comparison to the real deal and her oozey counterpart was certainly feeling it. Her literal skin-tight suit practically falling apart due to the sexual thrill of such passionate, intimate mating as its host's Prince Charming had his way with them. The bedsheets becoming soaked with with sweat and juices alike as they went from rolling around a mating and amazon press to her clinging to the walls and ceiling for dear life as she urged and compelled her imp lover to let loose and blow his load inside her. The most intense climax serving an ideal finale as she let lose with a primal, bestial screeching roar.....

It was this that caused Millie and Sally may to stir awake as the sisters came to, wondering just what in all the Circles had that been? Checking in on the bedroom, the source of the strange sound to find nothing more than the sight of a panting, exhausted Moxxie with his dick out and soaked with an overflow of his dribbling jizz. The two Wrath girls had to wonder just what the hell kind of wet dream Millie's stud had to be having to have busted a nut like he literally made a sexual hurricane occur. And feel quite turned on because hot damn was the scent getting them horny as fuck!!

While the duo of Moxxie's wife and his sister in law opted to tend to his possible wet dream induced state of rut with some tender lewd care, Linda had made her escape soon as she sensed the risk of being caught in the act. Crawling the walls and swinging around the skyline, sated for now at having achieved a fling of sexual passion with her Prince Charming and already making plans for the future. After all, no harm in keeping an eye on her precious little imp and making sure he and all those lovely ladies in his life stayed safe, right? Oh yes, she'd be his little secret snake in the garden, fangs out and ready to give any and all who wished or meant him harm...a little dose of Venom.....

(In terms of Linda's sinner form, think the attire and personality of Jessica rabbit with the appearance of Muffet from mafiatale mixed with Angeldust but rule 63.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Art all the Same

Hiroko Takashiro had always thought ever since that tragic night, fate would find a way to catch up to her and really what else was there to expect? It was common knowledge about Karma when it came to Witchcraft, do a spell with good intentions and you got the benefits threefold but do so with bad intentions? Well you can’t say doing something like messing around with a Satanic book and abusing it like she had would result in an absolute shitshow but this was taking the cake. Running through the labyrinth like corridors of the school late at night, being hunted by demons of all things!!

Yes in case you can’t have yet surmised, the bombshell art teacher has found herself the target of IMP, having sent by a revenge seeking Reika Kitami (who’d died tragically on that horrifying Walpurgis Night and wasn’t too happy about it to say the least). The misfit killer for hire trio had opted to split up and track down the redhead hottie throughout the campus but fate it seems wasn’t too merciless as Moxxie is the one who finds her first. Rifle trained on her as she was cornered in, of all places, her art classroom, when to her surprise the imp questions her as he thought something about their client’s story felt fishy. Lucky for her given Blitzo would’ve gunned her gun and asked questions never. Millie he wasn't too sure given how her temper could get when mixed with a thirst for violence.

Scared out of her wits, Takashiro decided if this was to be her last moments in life then she might as well go with Christ with a clean conscience as she revealed the knowledge and existence of the infamous bible black to the Imp. Any and all key sordid details from the antics of her witchcraft club to the series of events involving lies, sorcery and sex. All of which had lead to her own erotic violation at the hands of a perverted demon and the massacre of her club turned cult by a mad woman....and the unfortunate demise of Kitami who passed away from bloodloss moments before she could desperately accept a deal from the devil that would extend her miseral night until the next Walpurgis night. Even telling Moxxie where he could find where she'd hidden the damn tome and that he could take it afterwards as a trophy back to whatever dark masters he served in Hell if it at least meant he'd kill her painlessly.

Once he'd heard this grisly bit of exposition, Moxxie decided to take the art teacher up on her offeras he told her to wait and stay quiet in the art room while he went and made his way to the basement where it all happened. A quick search through and bingo bongo, he managed to locate it, examining the sinister novel as he held it in his hand before getting an idea as he quickly made his way back to Takashiro. Before her very eyes she watched as Moxxie tookout a cellphone (hellphone) called up Mr.Sketch to tell him to take the book, his pornographic employer obliging him of course as a portal opened up and snatched the cursed thing away. Satisfied, the imp composed a text with a rundown of what Takashiro had told him and that the Enigma would do as need be, all the while our sweet possum informed the repentant woman that he wasn't going to kill her BUT they were going to need to throw Blitzo off because knowing the former circus boy, he wasn't going to like feeling gyped.

getting an idea she felt just might work, Takashiro began using her art skills to a degree that would make Tom Savini applaud as she pained herself to look like she was shot by Moxxie. Soon as she was laying there seeming as dead and corpse like as need be, the imp got the hint as he popped off a round in his rifle, causing the blood looking paints to scatter and spill which really gave a murder scene vibe. Blitzo and Millie arriving soon as they heard the bang and came to find the thespian standing over the target's bloody looking corpse, the former actually impressed at Moxxie having a pair and a spine even if he didn't outright say good job. After all, the bitch was dead and they could get paid as he opened up a portal home though Moxxie told them to go on ahead as he said he was going to deal with disposing of the body.

Seeing no reason to argue with that train of logic, Blitzo shrugged as he and Millie went on back to hell, though Moxxie's lovely, kinky shortstack wife giggled as she shot him a wink and a smile, mouthing have fun at him. Yeah figures she knew damn well this was a set up but hey her man spared a pretty lady and they were getting paid for doing squat, bonus!! Coming to once the coast was clear and totally overjoyed at seeing the damned, cursed book gone and still being alive, the rapture and adrenaline seized the sexy redhead as she kissed Moxxie, her tongue dancing with his in sloppy passionate abandon, as she let her urges take over and guide her. Leading them to strip one another naked and get right down to doing it, then and there in the art room.

The full moon's light gave the room a rather sensual atmosphere as Takashiro moaned with sexual bliss and delight at the skilled hands and mouth of Moxxie. The rather gifted and so very well endowed imp putting all her lewd fantasies to shame (like being gangfucked by her students) and erased that car crash experience with that tentacle violating demon out of sight and mind as he groped and caressed her all over. Her tits and ass like dough in his hands as he pussy dribbled with a watefall of nectar that made a growing puddle on the floor while she tricked his pulsing red shaft in her hand, lust glowing in her eyes as she yearned to have it inside of her. But once she did..she truly abandoned all sense of reason and rationale, orgasmic rapture rushing through her as she fell in mind, body, heart and soul in love with her new little master.

Over and over she welcomed Moxxie asking her to peak of ecstasy, exclaiming her as his love slave with every thrust and pump of his cock into her pussy. Shamelessly keeping herself within his reach and bund as she relished every position she was put through from any and every possible way to being taken behind to laying atop him as she made herself his persona onahole, fit only to serve and please him. Every and any instance he came inside her a thrilling sensation as she urged her demonic saviour and new lord to keep going until she was well and truly broken, ruined for other men. In her erotic tainted mind, she was truly making art within this classroom, the art of making love to a true demon among men as the pair went at it long into the night.

When Moxxie had finally finished, making the call after he cleaned up..and took the time to take Takashiro back to her home and tuck her in bed, he knew Millie was going to love this story for sure. For Takashiro of course, this night of passion with her infernal messiah, as she considered him, would later contact the spirit of Reika Kitami to make amends..and propose a a peculiar idea she felt would benefit them both greatly. And it was from the moment onwards…that a Cult of the Possum would come to be formed within this peculiar Japanese campus. More so once they came upon a certain ritual that circulated online within certain circles….

Meanwhile, Sketch and Asmodeus, the resident sin king of Lust itself were standing in front of the demon who is bound in chains, the duo looking ready to punish and destroy him. Suffice to say, the literal and figurative horny bastard was looking ready to shit and piss himself knowing he was going to be facing some severe penalties. If he'd known all that shit with Alister Crowley was going to come back and bite him in the ass, he'd have never conceived that damn book. And there was no doubt he was going to truly know HELL!!

[rei-ismyname]

Resurrection of Magneto Highlights 2

When we left Max and Ororo (part 1 here), she'd gotten through to him. He can't turn his back on the world as he did all the way back in X-Men Red #1, so he turned the key and they exited the Sphere of Judgement. Or did they?

The Adversary, The First Fallen, and?

They're split up and realise that they haven't faced all their demons, perhaps literally. Ororo comes face to face with Annihilation, who has not forgotten her. She challenges Ororo, attacking her at her point of strength - her heroism.

Some 5D Magneto leftist theory

Meanwhile, Max meets the Shadow King wearing Xavier's face, suggesting that this may all be him. It ultimately doesn't matter - the obstacle is the same. This is honestly a fantastic dialogue. If you haven't read RoM please do so as I can't cover it all here. The Adversary challenges Max/Erik/Magneto/Magnus' relationship with identity, forcing him to face all that he's been and all that he is. It backfires because he's finally in a place where he wants to do that anyway. The Shadow King only ends up strengthening his resolve. I think there is no single entity opposing them here except the animus, their essence of self, but I can't really back that up. They need to be fearless facing their shortcomings and commit to who they are.

Al Ewing displays his understanding of who Ororo is and what her regrets are, having her face her sense of duty and responsibility - how that can be a form of arrogance. We're still operating under magic rules, and this is misdirection for the trick.

That hooks her into feeling responsible to fight this evil, but Ororo sees the trap of agreeing to fight alone. In folklore a vampire can only enter your house if invited in and the Fae deals live or die on who can parse the wording better. So it is here, and Ororo affirms what could be the thesis for the entire Krakoan era...

We're stronger together, flaws and all. Max has passed through the looking glass of self and accepted all he's ever been so he takes her hand as soon as she calls for it. They once again form the oldest mutant circuit, but a dangerous one - drawing on Storm's life force to empower Mags. Together they blast the shit out of the demon with Omega Plus electromagnetism.

This is so sexual

However, life force is a finite currency - in this place more than ever. Ororo is dying and she insists Max go on. The cost is paid. Mags thinks the cost is too high and reverses the circuit. He's always been the one who takes and Ororo who gives. Calling back to himself turning his back on the world and saying 'it's out of our hands' he shouts the opposite.

Mags gets his defibrillator on and it fucking HURTS. Again! This is so beautiful.

As above, so below - Taaia of Taa, Galactus' mother and scienceer hero of the sixth cosmos - applies some more literal paddles to Ororo's chest. Her heart beats again! Adam Brashear asks what the hell she was thinking but they're cut off by a dramatic figure coming through the portal. A human body being stitched together, flesh and sinew growing on a bare skeleton. Who?

Obviously it's Magneto, naked and surrounded by cosmic goo. Alive and full of vigor. Welcome back, big guy.

Magneto has returned from the undiscovered country, his last chance. Next time we'll conclude by finding out what kind of man he wants to be. In a world run by fascists can you even be a good man? Everything has changed while he's been gone - which hat will he wear?

[lavoixhumaine]

Before anything else—I don’t know if you will see this but I want to thank everyone who left the kindest and most supportive messages and replies. Thank you sincerely from the bottom of my heart.

To @rainedamodred and @bestbuddybobby — I wouldn’t have made it through without you both.

Now…

I’ve been contemplating what to write here for the last twelve hours.

When I say the past two weeks have been the most difficult in my entire life, that is not an exaggeration. It’s been…hell, honestly.

My husband was diagnosed with an arrhythmia over two years ago. Didn’t sound good but it wasn’t uncommon, but he was a special case, as we were told because on top of being unnaturally tall for our people, he apparently also had an unnaturally large heart…literally. We were presented with options that we were told we could delay due to the pandemic and our concerns regarding safety in authorizing a rather complicated operation during what felt like a perilous time…

The pandemic didn’t really end but it eased. We went in for a checkup. They said it was okay so far as long as he wasn’t feeling any different. He said he was fine. I believed him.

So we thought we had time. We thought this year we could get back on track after the hellacious last couple of years. Get back to what passed for normal, start traveling again, see old friends, revisit our favorite places, hit up our old haunts…

We scheduled him for surgery the beginning of next year…but I suppose fate had other plans.

My husband flatlined twice in the last couple of weeks. He was brought back both times but not without cost. They tried different medications. There were heavy discussions on what options were available. The idea of a heart transplant was offered but waiting for a new heart meant…well, you have some idea, yes? There was no way he could travel for treatment. His heart was going insane…hitting over 200 beats per minute, erratically bouncing from 90 to 145 in a blink…it was a mess.

I coped by not coping…I ended up breaking so many things in our home…a table, a glass wall and whatever I could get my hands on. The floors looked like they were littered with glittering diamonds by the time I was through…so much glass everywhere. It was the only way I could pull myself back together and return to the hospital without falling apart and screaming at someone.

And the goddamn crying…it came and went and I kept waiting to run out of tears but I never did.

I had my mothers and aunts calling from all over in different timezones and at first, I answered but then I would cry more because they cared and they kept offering…kindness and comfort. They wanted to come and be there but I couldn’t imagine keeping up a facade to yet another group of people when I’m busy trying not to fall apart and be The Wife.

And listening to them trying to give me comfort…somehow that was enough to trigger disgusting crying jags that helped nobody and just made a mess out of me. I stopped taking calls. I couldn’t keep my shit together when I kept falling apart at the sound of a caring voice.

For the first time in almost ten years, I was alone. In all the time I’ve been with my husband, I have never been alone…that broke something inside me.

He’s the calm voice, he’s the adult in the room, he makes the decisions, he is the one person that can talk me down from whatever insane cliff I’ve driven myself to…and suddenly, there was just silence.

It reached a point where I was the only one left to make decisions because he couldn’t anymore…his doctors all agreed the best option was to perform a cardiac ablation and implant a device that would be connected to his heart—a defibrillator with a pacemaker backing.

At that point, I was too exhausted mentally, emotionally and psychologically…I said yes to whatever they felt was best. They let me pick and choose off a menu which piece of technology to put next to his heart like I was in an Apple launch event. It was all so…fucking surreal.

Wasn’t it only a few days ago we were celebrating his birthday? He’s only fucking forty-one.

Between the harsh reality that I might lose my husband and the unrelenting conflicts that kept intruding upon an already terrible situation by way of his family…I was barely keeping myself together. I couldn’t even go home anymore and break things…I was that close to breaking things in the hospital but then how would that look if word got out?

I was too scared to go home…too scared I’ll leave and he would slip away.

It’s just the kind of thing he would do…leave without telling because he thinks that would hurt me less. Fuck, sometimes he’s also a dumbass but he is my dumbass, okay?

After I was able to make a decision that would alter his life while hopefully saving it…within twenty-four hours, the device was flown in as well as the specialist that would perform the surgery. Almost two weeks of agony and suddenly, an OR was booked, the doctors were lining up and introducing themselves, discussing their roles in the operation, explaining how it was all going to go down, the technician was making a presentation on how the device would save him on a daily basis while I was too punch drunk to process the information, the anesthesiologist was talking about how they expected things to go, critical care was throwing in his two cents, the cardiologist was trying to reassure me that he would be okay within twenty-four hours after the procedure and he will be able to go home just like that…

It happened so fast, it left my head spinning.

He’s home now. It’s not a fun experience and recovery will take time, but he’s alive and that’s really all that fucking matters.

Right now, I’m dealing with residual bullshit with his family…his sister who is a neurotic passive aggressive piece of work and his mother who seems to have no problem showing him how much she hates him right now…his father continues to be the kindest of them.

I loved and adored these people last month.

One of my aunts said I should not stew in my anger and hold resentment in my heart…that I should give all my negative feelings to God and ask Him to help me continue to love and honor them as I have been doing from the beginning. Ask God to help me keep my love for them so I will not be clouded and remember they are my family…

I told her to call me again next week and try again.

Right now, I just want to get my house back in order and help my husband with his recovery. Get our lives back to where it should be. Find some kind of normal that works for this new us.

I’m trying to channel my rage into more useful outlets outside of that and do something good because that seems like a much better idea than giving in to the urge to commit arson. I am trying so hard not to acknowledge the rage that I am not quite ready to let go of…

I stopped breaking things—I think I’m on the right track.

I keep reminding myself…

He’s alive. He’s not dead. He’s here. He’s breathing. He’s alive. He’s speaking. He’s right here. He’s alive. He’s here. He’s right here.

He’s alive.

And the silence has gone.

[medfetabdl]

Finally figured out what the little connector on the side of the MP5 labeled ECG Defib out is for. It literally means that it outputs an analog ECG signal of whatever the monitor is detecting on its ECG input. It’s meant so that you can connect a defibrillator or other equipment to that output and not have to put multiple sets of electrodes on the patient. I just used my mini oscilloscope to show what that looks like. Interestingly it detects the ECG in milivolts but it will output on a ratio of 0.25 to 4 volts per milivolt. The connector is just a regular 1/4in TRS connector used for audio. Sleeve is ground, ring is ECG out, and Tip is ECG out/ marker input. I can also show what the marker input looks like. Let me know if you guys are interested but I could actually build a circuit that would beep every time the voltage goes above a certain threshold using this analog output. I also have yet to find something to connect to the nurse call relay. Interestingly the MP2 also has ECG output but it’s a 6 pin mini DIN connector that I don’t have anything that will fit. I also think I found out why Philips has their monitor support tool software locked down so hard. It allows you to do just about anything with the monitor so you can technically activate software options that cost extra. My MP5 is the base model software except it has the entire clinical applications library unlocked. Hardware wise it has highest option for rear I/O but it has the standard option for measurements. My MP2 has the highest option for measurements with, ECG/Resp (up to 6 leads), SPO2 (with Masimo’s fast SPO2), NBP, temperature, and Press. Press is short for pressure and it’s also know as IBP (Invasive Blood Pressure) it takes an input from a pressure transducer (Which is just an electrical component called a Wheatstone bridge, it’s 4 resistors connected together forming a diamond shape and when pressure is applied and voltage runs through the resistors the voltage will change depending on how much pressure there is) unfortunately to use IBP you need an arterial line which I’m not stupid enough to try to preform myself.

I used the function generator on the mini oscilloscope to output a square wave at 10Hz and this is the result on the ECG waveform.

[quitefair]

All the questions for the dragon age reblog

astagah bro susah ni..... (tak susah pun you know me too well huhu.... thanks for asking!!!!)

gonna have to keep track of what ive not already answered. also half of this is going under a cut because as always, it got too fuckin long.

4. What does your worldstate look like going into DAV?

I need to go back into the Keep and take a look. There's some stuff even within Tashak's canon run that I think I need to tweak.

Main plot

Denies being chosen by Andraste

Recruits mages as allies

Grey Wardens recruited as allies, rebuilt

Stroud left behind in the Fade

Alliance between Celene, Briala and Gaspard

Morrigan drank from the Well of Sorrows

(Softened) Leliana as Divine

Shared the truth about Ameridan and the first Inquisition with the world

Vowed to stop Solas at all costs

Companions

Blackwall becomes a Grey Warden

Saved the Chargers, Bull is Tal Vashoth

Cassandra didn't rebuild the Seekers

Cole becomes more spirit

Sera kills Harmond on her own

Varric tracks down the source of the red lyrium

Dorian did not reconcile with his father

Helped Vivienne with the Snowy Wyvern (people that don't do this, we can't fuckin be friends)

Helped Solas with his friend

Advisors

Softened Leliana

Cullen stopped taking lyrium

Du Paraquettes elevated to nobility

6. Do you have your Rook(s) planned out to any degree? If so, would you share some details or ideas you have?

I've been talking a bit about her in the previous asks, but I have a somewhat vague idea rotating in my mind. Don't want to commit too much until I've played the game though.

(Those that want to peruse her tag, it's here.)

7. Which character from the previous games or other media are you most hoping will make an appearance in DAV?

I'm going to be real with you guys. If I had it my way, I don't want any of the previous characters to be in DA4. I've been scarred too many times with Bioware fucking up their characters in subsequent media.

What I'm trying to say is, keep your hands off Fenris or I'll come to your offices and kill every single one of you.

Then again, having said that. Maevaris Tilani, the woman you are. The moment she appears on my screen I'm going to need a defibrillator.

10. Which location are you most excited/hoping to explore in-game?

Antiva. Bioware, please. I need to see. Antiva. Rivain too but I have too much of an emotional attachment to the Antiva in my head.

12. What’s one thing you’re hoping we DON’T see in this next game?

As mentioned above, characters from previous games that are written badly. I don't want it. I don't need it. Let me play and be at peace.

13. What’s one thing you’ve seen confirmed so far that you’re a fan of?

The Veil Jumpers. God. I can't stop thinking about them, I need to know EVERYTHING about them. Veil magic, Rift magic, the science of the push and pull between Thedas and the Fade, separated only by a thin sheen of fabric. I'm going insane.

14. What’s one thing you’ve seen confirmed so far that you’re NOT a fan of?

At first glance, the combat and the interface really reminds me of a combination of God of War (2018) and the newer Assassins Creed games. And... I don't like that at all. As much as I adore GoW 2018, I want Dragon Age to be it's own thing. Yes yes you could say games can be inspired by other games, but I know for a fact that development of this game has been a nightmare, and shit has had to change last minute. God of War 2018 has been referenced as a game that made EA execs change the direction of what this game would've been, alongside Jedi Fallen Order.

We don't need another Soulsborne Action Adventure game. We need another Dragon Age. And this... really doesn't feel like a Dragon Age game so far.

15. Do you have any unpopular opinions about DAV so far?

Kinda answered in 14. I've refused to look at anything after I saw the gameplay reveal. I didn't think I was going to be as excited for this as I am. I didn't think I would have as visceral a reaction as I did to the character reveal trailer. The loredrops have been So Fucking Interesting. The characters are driving me insane. All of this already feels like the Dragon Age I know and love, and I don't want anything to spoil that for me until I can get my grubby little paws on the actual game.

I'll reserve my judgements and griping (oh there will definitely be griping) for then, my friends.

20. Post a picture or gif that conveys your current level of excitement for Dragon Age: The Veilguard!

[holdenlivia]

Automatic External Defibrillator 2.0Kg

Abimed Automatic External Defibrillator employs advanced ECG analysis and functions within a temperature range of 0°C to 40°C and humidity levels of 30% to 95%. It is equipped with comprehensive voice and visual prompts to assist the operator, improving success rates and reducing heart damage.

[ask-paradox-and-friends]

HERE WE GO! EINHERJARS HEADCANNONS

@splatoonfan88 @hazawatsugu feel free to add if you want.

Bun

Hair is so curley and unruly he isn't aware when spiders crawl into it until someone screams there's a spider in his hair.

When the timeline gets rebooted/gets isekaid into a new world cause some gods are dicks due to him losing his eye to Hajun he's colorblind in that eye if not blinded fully. Funnily enough his other eye adapted and is better then most eyez.

Due to the early years training his quirk he can't fully close his fist without strain.

His teeth are naturally sharp. People used to claim he was part shark or part dog.

He hasn't combed his hair in a long time. Its bed head.

Even when he was burned more then dabi he wasn't Sure how he kept his hair.

He has a pair of handprint scars on his chest cause in the reboot timeline a doctor with a defibrillator hand quirk had to resuscitate him.

He can't stand the smell of anything that smells like burnt sugar which smells like nitroglycerin aka BAKUGOUS QUIRK (hint hint)

Saito

He's horribly dense and can't tell if someone is flirting with him.

The real life Ryoma grew up in a well to do family that rand a brewery and a linen tradery while also eventually making a navel trading company that eventually became part of the Japanese navy Saito started all these businesses in the reboot timeline Tsugu and Garou both unknownly get some clothes from their brand and According to Bun the Sakamoto name is held in as high regard as the 3 great unifiers of Japan do to Saito.

Saito has 3 names. Birth name Ryoma Sakamoto, shinsengumi captain Saito Hajime, and the new identity after she 'kills' both the last two Kiryu Kazuma which he has a birth name when reincarnated into modern times.

Despite being born a woman Saito has the face and body of a man. She gets reincarnated into a males body (Based female Saito off both Fates and Yakuza what gave that away?)

Saito was blessed by Ebsu. One of the seven lucky gods of Japan. More specifically the god of luck involving trade and fishing. Considering he runs a well off trading business and can easily fish up large tuna octopi and even great white sharks. Yea. It's obvious.

He dosent mind being called he or she as it dosent bother her. (1st life born a woman looks like a man. 2nd life born a man but having hobbies that were dubbed feminine [bonyo fan dancing, dressed in drag once to sneak into a place. And is the kind of father to answer the door covered in makeup as her daughter wanted to make daddy look pretty.])

Absolutely has the highest alcohol tolerance of the Einherjars due to the drinking games in the yakuza games.

Garou

Massive mommy and daddy issues. He maybe stuck to bangs side as bang was kinda like a dad. [We don't see much of garous dad and a bonus page claims garous crush looks just like his mom but qoute 'unlike her she is actually a kind and gentle person']

Due to him only getting caught and fined for dining and dashing and shoplifting he was only wanted for 50$

He's next in line to inherit bangs dojo if he proves himself to his master.

He'll eat about anything. Monsters. Burnt animals. Bugs. Any. Thing. Within reason.

He'll avoid fighting child Emperor at any cost because he will do anything to protect children.

He having a crush on the actor of a yellow sentai ranger you know he is a fan of super sentai the power rangers and Kamen rider.

(If you want I'll doo trivia on Derail and Paradox.)

[operator-th3s3us]

Do You Feel Like A Young God? (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Masc!Reader)

You sat there bored, watching one of your many humans fight tooth and nail to get back to his squad… Kyle Garrick, you think you named him. You knee he was close to death and at this time it would be time for him to meet his maker. You watched as he sat behind cover with tears in his eyes as he gripped a bullet wound yo his lung. He radioed into his team with a weak voice, “This is Bravo 5, heavily wounded. I'm not going to make it to evac.. Bravo 5 out.” You saw as he paled increasingly before going limp.

You turned around to see the face of him, he was just as beautiful as the day you created him. A blush came across your face before you cleared your throat, you spread your wings before you spoke, your voice booming and echoing through the clouds that surrounded the room. “Kyle Garrick, I am your creator, Y/N. Welcome, to heaven.”

You smiled at him before your face fell, seeing how devastated he looked, you walked to him and crouched down. “Be not afraid, Kyle Garrick, for this is your new sanctuary. You can visit your family and friends when you get enough strength, my dear.” He shook his head, “I have to get back down there, they need me. Ghost, Soap, Price, and Laswell need me.” He said panicked. You furrowed your eyebrows, “Kyle Garrick, this is your new home. It would be wise to stay, I am unable to send you back. Why would you give up a life of peace and happiness for a life of war and devastation just for Simon Riley, John MacTavish, John Price, and Kate Laswell?” You may have created humans, but you never fully comprehended how complex they were. He just looked up at you, “Please… Y/N, I need to save them.” He mumbled softly.

You closed your eyes as you looked down to see what they were doing with Gaz's body, when you saw they were attempting to recessitate him with Defibrillators. You opened your eyes back up to see his deep brown eyes, holding back tears. Furthermore, you sighed and nodded, “Very well then… Kyle Garrick, I hope to not see you here soon.” You said, snapped your fingers, he profusely thanked you as he started to dissipate. You knew it was against the rules, but you couldn't help it, that human, Kyle Garrick, that you had created, fell into your cold heart.

Yet now he leads you to where you are presently, you had sinned in the codes of the gods and had rewritten history. You sat in your prison of your making, you couldn't help it, though. You had fallen in love with your creation, and it had been years alone in the room you sat in, until you heard a familiar voice behind you. You stood up and proudly puffed out your chest and spread out your wings, “Hello? Y/N?” The voice asked, you turned around to see Kyle Garrick. You sighed and looked at him, “I was hoping I wouldn't see you for a couple more cycles from the gods, Kyle Garrick.” You spoke, your voice still echoed like you were in a cave, yet there was nothing for it to bounce off.

He just nodded, “I wanted to thank you… For giving me a second chance, sir, even if it cost you everything.” You folded your wings back in before relaxing, you walked over to the force field formed in between you two. “Kyle Garrick, you have no need to thank me. I have been watching you since I had created you, and I have been protecting you to the best of my abilities. You grew into a fine young man, and I could not be more proud of my human creations. I have pondered if I should have done different, but it is clear that no matter what, I did what I saw was fit even if the higher powers do not agree with it.” You got on one knee to be eye level with him, “I should thank you for teaching me to love, even if it is forbidden by every code for a God to love. You are beautiful, and you deserve an eternity of great joy and love. Your time is up, however, and I will not be able to talk for another thousand years.” He nodded silently before you spoke again,

“Goodbye, my dear, Kyle Garrick, for I may see you in another life.”

(This was requested by a friend, ily steels 🥰)

[audible-smiles]

When you bring your pet to a veterinary hospital with a time-sensitive (or emergent) problem, they will likely ask you for two things; emergency consent and a CPR status. It's good to know what that means and have your answers ready in advance.

Emergency consent is permission to start medical treatment to stabilize an animal in unstable condition. In time-sensitive situations, it may not be appropriate to delay basic care long enough to speak to the owner in depth and provide an itemized treatment plan. This care may involve placing an IV catheter, starting fluids, running simple diagnostic tests, administering certain medications, and providing oxygen and/or heat support. They will often name a cost (say, $500), with the expectation that they won't go over that amount without returning to speak to you about your pet's status and their recommendations. You are fully within your rights to decline emergency consent, but depending on the situation the delay may adversely affect the outcome of the case. If you're not prepared for this question it can sound like a demand for money, but think of it more as a request for information about your financial situation; they don't want to inadvertently bankrupt you providing care you can't afford, but if you can afford it, it would be best to start now.

A CPR status is a guideline for what you want them to do if your pet goes into cardiopulmonary arrest while in the hospital. This condition quickly leads to death, but in some cases prompt intervention can return spontaneous circulation and ventilation. CPR for cats and dogs involves chest compressions similar to human CPR, as well as intubation and manual ventilation to provide oxygen, the use of emergency drugs such as lidocaine and atropine, and in rare cases, the use of a defibrillator. Depending on the cause of the arrest, success rates for CPR vary wildly. A healthy pet who arrests under anesthesia for an elective procedure may have up to a 50% chance of resuscitation, while an elderly pet in organ failure who arrests in the car on the way to the hospital may have a vanishingly small chance. There are costs associated with CPR, and even when it succeeds, post-resuscitation care typically involves a hospital stay and further treatment. There are certainly cases where a "Do Not Resuscitate" order may be the best choice for your pet, but it's a very personal decision. (Keep in mind that for safety's sake emergency vets will typically ask for a CPR status before admitting any patient to the ICU or starting a sedated/anesthetized procedure, so the question itself does not mean that your pet is on the verge of death. )

[alterationa]

My Rule Zeroes

Figured I’d post something up to defibrillate this account. Since power levels are too nebulous, I only have a few guidelines if we’re newly playing each other in Commander. 1. No lockout or solitaire strategies. Grave Pact and Martyr’s Bond are on my personal ban list. In short, let people play Magic. Being the only one capable of having meaningful turns, or in the case of solitaire, the only one to have turns ever, is not an enjoyable way to play 4-player Magic. Pillow fort can stay, but if you have Ensnaring Bridge, that affects everyone else.

2. No pen and paper proxies. I feel the financial effect of certain cards is what keeps a lot of concerning playing pieces from hurting general casual Commander. Tabernacle should be banned, but because it’s a prohibitively expensive card, it doesn’t hit that many tables. PaP proxies bypass this in an unhealthy way when you can just write the name of cards with no regard for cost. I’m sure the player running Blossoming Sands feels real great looking at the other player with some notebook paper that has “Savannah” written on it.

3. “Upgraded precon” carries no meaning. A deck can be drastically altered in potential threat with as little as five swapped cards with high synergy and a completed land base (see Ur-Dragon precon mana base). May edit if I think of any more.

[mariacallous]

Good tourniquets save lives. Bad ones kill soldiers. The global market is awash with cheaply-made knock-offs: Handles that shear off under tension, rubber tubes that won’t tighten around a limb, devices that fail when they’re needed most. That’s why most armies buy in bulk from trusted suppliers. But Evgen Vorobiov prefers Amazon. Top of his Wish List at the moment are combat application tourniquets (CATs) from North American Rescue (five stars from 1,720 reviewers). Also on the list: burn dressings, compact chest seals, trauma shears and “The Original Rescue Essentials Brand QuikLitter”—a black canvas stretcher which promises low-cost casualty evacuation and patient transfer.

Before Russia launched its full-scale invasion in February 2022, Vorobiov, a lawyer, worked for the Ukrainian central bank and then on international projects trying to reform Ukraine’s financial system—“banking regulations, consumer protection, that kind of thing.” But, with Russian troops massing on Ukraine’s borders, he took some courses in tactical medicine, hoping to make himself useful if the worst happened. It did.

The Ukrainian army, dwarfed by its opponent, was supposed to collapse in days. But remarkably, it held the line, bolstered by a huge wave of volunteers and reservists. Trucks filled with Kalashnikov rifles drove into Kyiv’s neighborhoods and handed out weapons to anyone who wanted to join the fight. Engaged in constant combat for days on end, the armed forces quickly ran short of supplies. Vorobiov, with his basic knowledge of combat medicine, started reaching out to anyone he knew overseas who could help find CAT tourniquets, trauma bandages, chest seals and other lifesaving equipment. He and a couple of colleagues sourced gear from the UK, US, and the Netherlands and got it to Poland. Anyone they knew coming back to Ukraine via Poland was asked to bring bags of supplies, forming “a human chain” stretching from Europe to the frontline.

Eighteen months on, his operation has blossomed. Vorobiov’s intimate understanding of Ukrainian bureaucracy means he’s been particularly effective at getting sensitive shipments over the border, making him a focal point for other donors. He’s built a potent fundraising operation on social media, tapping into an international community of supporters to raise money and find supplies. And, by driving back and forth across Ukraine, delivering right into the hands of combat medics, he’s forged relationships with units who can tell him exactly what they need and when, creating a personalized military logistics operation from his living room in downtown Kyiv. In May, Vorobiov got a call from a medic working at a makeshift field hospital close to Bakhmut, the burned-out ruin of a town that was a bloody pivot point for the frontline in the first half of 2023. They were in desperate need of a portable ultrasound machine to scan casualties for internal injuries. Vorobiov tapped his network for money, and found a secondhand device in Poland for $3,400. When we meet, it’s sitting in his apartment waiting to go east, and he’s turned his attention to getting hold of a portable charging unit for a defibrillator. Soldiers ask for everything: Drones for artillery and reconnaissance units, portable generators, Starlink satellite internet terminals, 4x4s, the things they need to keep them online and alive, which are often the same thing in a war defined by the use of technology on the frontline.

For decades, Ukrainian civil society has been built horizontally. Rather than rely on government agencies for help, people have leant on personal connections—everyone knows someone who knows someone who can get what you need, help you out. This parallel state has been providing vital aid in eastern Ukraine since Russian proxies invaded in 2014. Since the full-scale invasion began it’s become super-charged, using social media and messaging platforms to go global. Vorobiov is just one link in a relay of money, supplies, innovations, and solidarity that is keeping Ukraine’s soldiers in the fight.

The Front Line Kitchen occupies a few cramped ground-floor rooms and a shed off a sloping street on the edge of Lviv’s picturesque old town. In the courtyard, volunteer cooks peel mountains of potatoes and beets among the organized chaos of plastic vegetable crates, cardboard boxes and IKEA bags overflowing with baked goods. Inside, fridge-sized dryers are filled with shredded vegetables, meat and mushrooms, waiting to go into vacuum-sealed ration packs.

The kitchen started years before the full-scale invasion, in the aftermath of the “Euromaidan” demonstrations and “Revolution of Dignity” in late 2013 and early 2014. Protests against the Kremlin-backed government of Viktor Yanukovich in Kyiv’s Independence Square—Maidan Nezalezhnosti—were met with a bloody crackdown by security forces. As the violence escalated, protesters formed self-defense forces and medical units, repelling assaults and even storming government buildings. In February 2014, Yanukovich fled Kyiv. Days later, Russia illegally annexed Crimea, and its proxies seized government buildings in Donetsk and Luhansk in the east of Ukraine, declaring themselves independent of Ukraine. They met little formal resistance: Under Yanukovich, Ukraine’s armed forces and intelligence agencies had been gutted.

That spring, Ukraine raised volunteer battalions, some directly linked to the self-defense units formed in Maidan. They were still ill-equipped, so they came to rely on other volunteers to supply them with basics—food, uniforms, medicines, vehicles—even weaponry. “The volunteers essentially replaced the function of the government for supplying the necessary resources,” says Roman Makukhin, a member of the National Interests Advocacy Network, a Kyiv-based NGO. “Protecting basically their neighbors, their friends, their brothers and sons.”

Oksana Mazar and Lyuda Kuvayskova, the Front Line Kitchen’s founders, met sewing camouflage nets and balaclavas for the volunteer detachments. Many of their friends, and Kuvayskova’s son, had been at Maidan. “The war had started, even if it wasn’t talked about like it’s a war,” Mazar says. “We just wanted to help, as the guys didn't have anything. No clothes, no shoes, and no food—because it was not [officially] a war.”

They started cooking meals for soldiers, experimenting with ways to turn home-made borscht and holubtsi (cabbage rolls) into ration packs that would survive the 1,000-kilometer journey to the Donbass, usually in the back of cars or trucks after being handed over to anyone heading that way. The cooks worked in small batches, drying food in friends’ kitchens, before they were gifted their current premises. They raised enough money to buy their own dryers, and gradually expanded. After the full-scale invasion began, the kitchen’s front yard was filled with volunteers and people bringing supplies. “They knew that we were doing food for the military, and they wanted to help,” Mazar says.

With 1 million Ukrainians mobilized to fight the Russians, the need has grown massively. The kitchen is now putting out 20,000 meals a day, sending truckloads of food east, and taking orders direct from the military. To scale up they’ve relied on donations, often sourced via the @frontlinekit Twitter account. The account is run by Richard Woodruff, who came to Ukraine from the UK early in the war, intending to join one of the international brigades in the Ukrainian army, despite having no military training. After seeing footage of the ferocious defense of Kyiv, “I kind of rethought my chances of survival,” he says. Instead, he arrived at Lviv train station a few weeks after the full scale invasion began, and soon found his way to the kitchen.

If the 1991 Gulf War was the first major conflict broadcast live on TV, the defense of Ukraine is the first full-scale interstate conflict to be shown in real time on Twitter. Ukrainians posted from the early hours of the invasion—air raid sirens sounding over a European capital in 2022; queues at the recruiting centers, calls for aid and statements of defiance. They recorded acts of insane valor, videoing themselves as they ambushed Russian columns with anti-tank missile launchers they’d barely been trained to use. Civilian drones pressed into service as surveillance tools provided a steady stream of high-definition footage made for phone screens, giving a gamer’s-eye view to the fighting. As Russian forces were pushed back, and the Ukrainian armed forces reclaimed land, the atrocities and scenes of destruction were shown live, along with poignant videos of liberating soldiers greeted by their ecstatic families. For those that wanted to see them, there were graphic videos: helmet cams showed firefights, drones dropping grenades on Russian soldiers and into the hatches of occupied vehicles.

Many of Ukraine’s new volunteers were “terminally online”—ordinary digital natives forced into a brutal conflict. Gen-Z recruits did dance videos for TikTok. Their meme game was wild. Woodruff’s Twitter bio reads “British Chef Fella”—a reference to the North Atlantic Fellas Organization, or NAFO—an online movement of Ukraine-supporting shitposters with shiba inu avatars who flood social media with memes mocking the “Vatniks” (Russian propagandists).

The NAFO movement taunted Russia, at one stage managing to send the country’s ambassador in Vienna into a public meltdown. “Imagine, literally getting a world-class ambassador to speak with cartoon dogs on Twitter,” says Ivana Stradner, an adviser to the Foundation for Defense of Democracies think tank in Washington DC, an expert on misinformation and propaganda, and NAFO member. “This is the future of information warfare.”

NAFO does what state-backed information warriors, particularly those from democracies, can’t do. Its members make insane, often tasteless jokes, moving quickly to jump on trends. They’re good at memes, and flood the zone with infectious pro-Ukrainian vibes, humanizing, entertaining, and explaining to people far from the war why they should care. “I think NAFO, by boosting certain narratives, can actually also help people understand the severity of the situation and what's going on there,” Stradner says.

NAFO has helped raise millions of dollars through sales of merchandise (“I invaded Belgorod and all I got was this lousy T-shirt”) and crowdfunding campaigns. Now its avatars appear on the Twitter profiles of European politicians, on official Ukrainian defense channels, and on military equipment headed to the front. It has funded everything from food to medical supplies to a mobile artillery piece to the Georgian Legion, a unit of overseas volunteers that has been fighting since 2014. When the Frontline Kitchen’s vegetable shredder broke, Woodruff put out a call for funds to buy a new one. In the time it took him to drive to the supplier, the money had already been deposited in his account.

Social media works in tandem with the tight networks of Ukrainian society. This is a war being fought close to home—everyone knows someone at the front, and the soldiers are in constant contact. Link people like Vorobiov can connect those in the trenches with supporters in Kyiv or overseas. A unit under fire can ask for drones on Telegram, and within hours there’s a call for donations out on Twitter or Instagram. Vorobiov can deliver tourniquets to a combat medic near the front, and record a thank-you video to send directly to donors.

“I see a spike in donations when there is a story that I can tell of how donations help,” Vorobiov says. “Yesterday, I received a very long message from one of the medics, and she was telling me how medical supplies we brought to her helped her basically provide care to two servicemen. I posted that story on Twitter and folks started to donate.”

Sometimes, donors become more active participants. Last February, Polish filmmaker Maciej Zabojszcz was watching the conflict unfold over Twitter, and thinking about selling some of his military memorabilia to help raise money for a 4x4 for the Ukrainian army. But then, a graphic video emerged, apparently shot by Russian soldiers, of a Ukrainian prisoner of war being horrifically mutilated. “I felt like something changed,” he says. “I said, listen, let's not only buy one car.”

In the spring of 2022 he drove his first vehicle, a Nissan pickup, to Kyiv to deliver to the Georgian Legion. While there, he met Vorobiov, who was collecting some drones from Exen, another Polish volunteer. From then on, Zabojszcz was part of the network. Because they couldn’t order supplies online to be delivered to Ukraine, Vorobiov and others started putting Zabojszcz’s home as the delivery address. Each time he drives a car to Ukraine, he’s carrying helmets, body armor, drones, all kinds of medical supplies. When we met in March in Warsaw, he’d delivered seven 4x4s, and was fixing up an eighth.

Some Ukrainian units have a tradition of naming their vehicles, and the seventh car that Zabojszcz delivered, a Land Rover, was christened Mathilda. It was used to shuttle men from their barracks to the frontline through thick mud. “The whole unit was driving the car,” Zabojszcz says. “They were crazy about Mathilda.”

But after ten days of constant driving, Mathilda broke down. Another Polish volunteer found a local mechanic specialized in Land Rovers. They arranged an online consultation. The mechanic helped the soldiers figure out what was wrong and identify the part they needed to replace. The car broke on Monday. On Tuesday, a volunteer delivered the replacement part. “And on Thursday the car was fixed,” Zabojszcz says. “This is how this network works.”

Absorbing donations has required a degree of flexibility from the military establishment. Armies typically don’t like amateurs pitching in, turning up in warzones with stuff they’ve brought from home. Getting goods into Ukraine can be challenging—it’s understandably not legal for just anyone to move military equipment across borders—and even bringing in theoretically civilian items like cars, consumer drones, and generators requires customs forms and other paperwork. But volunteers say once they’ve got donations into the country, working with the military has been fairly easy. There’s still some admin, and donors have to have forms showing that the goods they’re delivering have been specifically asked for by a soldier, but mostly, they’ve integrated relatively seamlessly with the supply chains, with commanders on the ground sometimes turning a blind eye to help their soldiers get what they need.

This acceptance is driven partly by necessity—the military simply couldn’t supply its troops to the level it needed, and unlike its adversary, doesn’t want to send them into battle with tourniquets that snap under pressure and rations years past their expiration date. Volunteer networks can take orders, source, and deliver in a way that a centralized bureaucracy can’t. They’ve helped feed the battlefield innovations that have given outnumbered soldiers an edge, linking into the networks of workshops jury-rigging consumer drones; bringing 3D printers to the frontline to help turn hand grenades into air-dropped bombs.

“For the chaotic time after the invasion, these organizations created a stopgap solution for markets that the army could not operate,” says Simon Schlegel, senior Ukraine analyst at the Crisis Group think tank. “The army is good at buying in bulk, but these smaller operations are good at finding five pieces of Chinese-made drones in different countries and shipping them to Ukraine.”

President Volodymyr Zelenskyy understands this. He has, since the early days of the conflict, often made his social media addresses direct to citizens of other countries, not just to his fellow leaders. Volunteers—and the state’s own propagandists—have built a formidable ground game on social media, which has helped with donations, but also contributed to the ratcheting up of material being sent to the frontline by NATO partners. With public support for Ukraine high in their own countries, western leaders feel emboldened to hand over money and weapons. When those weapons deliver battlefield successes, the resulting content feeds back into the loop. “I think Ukraine is literally right now the superpower in this information war,” says Stradner.

The war, as seen through the filter of social media, has an oddly gamified quality. At times it seems it’s being won by jokes, by Ukrainian farmers pulling tanks behind tractors, by “Saint Javelin” (the “patron saint” of anti-tank missiles), and shiba inu soldiers. But it hasn’t been won yet, and many people at the far end of the volunteer supply chain have taken incredible risks, and exposed themselves to unspeakable horrors. In Lviv, I met Ernest Polanski, a Ukrainian volunteer taking a brief rest on his way back from delivering equipment to troops near Bakhmut.

What he saw there, he says, was “hell.” There was constant shelling, and the smell of corpses hung over the area. Whenever the bombardment stopped for longer than a few minutes, he wondered if something worse was about to come, “like a nuclear bomb,” he says. On the way back, he rescued three bedraggled kittens from the ruins.

Polanski has been driving back and forth from the frontlines since the early days of the war, and has lost count of the number of journeys he’s made, bringing generators, trench periscopes, medical gear and other supplies. Like other volunteers, he’s formed a special connection with a single unit, which he devotes most of his journeys to. He’s currently looking for €6,000 ($6,480) to buy new wheels for one of the unit’s 4x4s. “Not a lot of people want to go to this area,” he says. “But we have a special friendship with [this unit], and we want to help.”

The volunteer networks are made up of people from all over the world, but outside of Ukraine itself the cause has resonated more than anywhere in former Soviet nations, and in particular Baltic states like Lithuania, which see themselves as next in line if Ukraine falls. Traveling with Polanski on this journey to the front is one of his most committed supporters, the Lithuanian kickboxing champion Sergej Maslobojev. “Our country had the same problem years ago,” he says. “We feel their pain in our hearts.”

Maslobojev’s profile at home has meant he’s been able to fundraise for supplies, but, he says, it’s important for him to get out into the field to witness, and show the sacrifices still being made in the trenches of eastern and southern Ukraine. “When we listen to our news, usually we’re thinking that they're winning the war. Everything is going great. Why do we need to donate?” he says. “But when you go to the frontline and help those military guys, give them ammunition, extra food and the stuff that they really need. And they look at you with almost tears in their eyes and say, ‘nobody comes to us’. And then you understand why, in this moment.”

The day after Polanski and Maslobojev returned from Bakhmut, reports came through that the town had finally fallen. Individual defeats are hard to talk about in the context of fundraising campaigns and propaganda drives that are buoyed by a sense of inevitable victory. But they also underline the fragility of life close to the front. Almost all of the volunteers I spoke to in Ukraine had their own story of raising funds, or sourcing gear, only for the intended recipient to fall in battle before it could be delivered. All that does is make them more committed. Most say their supporters are also holding the line, a year and a half into the war.

“Sometimes it feels like this continuing western support is contingent on possible breakthroughs and huge victories. But I don't feel that, at least among my donors,” Vorobiov says. “You cannot afford hopelessness, because no one is going to support a lost cause. And we Ukrainians believe in winning this war. We have to infect others with that belief. But complacency is equally dangerous.”