#in order to test the effects of radiation on humans

[radiaking]

+ memes / accepting!

@rooksgambits said: we've come too far, we can't turn around now.

        Standing outside a giant, rusted, partially opened vault door with the number '12' in faded paint, this is obviously true, but now that he's here, he's not so eager to go inside. Even if, as she claims, there may be a huge store of his anti-feral drugs inside, and perhaps even knowledge of the drug itself. Still hesitant to take another step toward the vault, he turns with an incredulous and curious look upon her. "How the fuck you know so much about this place?"

[undeadcourier]

Ghouls are, put simply, humans suffering from advanced, prolonged radiation sickness and whose bodies have mutated such that gamma radiation extends their lifespan past natural limits.

The process of ghoulification is outlined in canon sources, but I wanted to make a guide that goes into more detail on the effects of radiation sickness in various cases, since the level and type of exposure significantly affects the outcome.

This is the first in what will be a series of posts exploring both real-life cases of radiation sickness and the sci-fi concept of ghoulification in some depth. Graphic descriptions of the physical deterioration of the body are included for informative purposes; reader discretion is advised.

For this first case study, I examine the effects on the human body of exposure to high levels of radiation in a short period of time, with a focus on the real case of Hisashi Ouchi.

On September 30, 1999, a lack of appropriate safety measures and the proper materials resulted in an accident that caused three workers at the nuclear power plant in Tōkai-mura, Japan, to suffer from severe radiation poisoning while purifying reactor fuel.

Point of Criticality

An uncontrolled fission reaction was produced when technicians poured nearly seven times the legal limit of uranium oxide into an improper vessel containing nitric acid. The men reported seeing a bright blue flash—indicative of Cherenkov radiation—when the mixture reached critical mass, flooding the room with radiation. The workers evacuated to the decontamination room, but already, the two who had been handling the reactive solution were overcome with intense pain from radiation burns, severe nausea, and difficulty breathing. Hisashi Ouchi, who suffered the highest level of exposure, also experienced rapid difficulties with mobility and coherence. Upon reaching the decontamination room, he vomited and fell unconscious.

~1 Hour Post-Exposure

Ouchi regained consciousness in the hospital about 70 minutes after the criticality accident, where doctors confirmed that he had been exposed to high doses of gamma, neutron, and other radiation.

The maximum allowable annual dose of radiation for nuclear technicians in Japan was 50 millisieverts. Exposure to more than 7 sieverts is considered fatal. Yutaka Yokokawa, the supervisor, had received 3 sieverts. The technicians who had been handling the uranium, Masato Shinohara and Hisashi Ouchi, received 10 sieverts and 17 sieverts, respectively.

~1 Day+ Post-Exposure

During the first few days in the ICU, Ouchi appeared to be in remarkably good condition, given the circumstances: the skin of his face and right hand was slightly red, as if by a sunburn, and swollen. His eyes were bloodshot, and he reported pain under his ear and right hand, which had received the most direct exposure, but he could speak normally, and he joked with the doctors and nurses attending to him.

6 Days Post-Exposure

Tests revealed that the high energy radiation that Ouchi had been exposed to had obliterated the chromosomes in his bone marrow. They were unrecognizable—some severed, some fused, all out of order. This damage meant that his body was unable to create new blood cells. The red blood cells that transport oxygen could not be replaced, and Ouchi's white blood cell count was near zero, leaving him extremely vulnerable to infection.

~1 Week+ Post-Exposure

Intensive treatments, including numerous skin grafts, blood and bone marrow transfusions, and revolutionary stem cell transplants were conducted in an attempt to stabilize Ouchi, but ultimately without lasting success.

The skin grafts couldn't hold; when medical tape was peeled from his skin, his skin came with it, and the marks left behind couldn't heal. Blisters like those of a burn appeared on his right hand.

Ouchi reported frequently that he was thirsty.

~10 Days Post-Exposure

By this point, Ouchi's oxygen levels were so low that even speaking required tremendous effort. Ouchi was placed on supplemental oxygen and required sedatives to be able to sleep.

2 Weeks+ Post-Exposure

Ouchi was no longer able to eat and required an IV. By day sixteen, most of the skin on the front side of his body had fallen off.

His low platelet count and lack of healthy skin meant that his blood and bodily fluids leaked through his damaged pores, resulting in unstable blood pressure.

Donor stem cells that were meant to allow his body to create new tissue were also destroyed by the radiation present in his body.

~1 Month Post-Exposure

On the 27th day following the accident, Ouchi suffered from intense diarrhea. The mucus layer of his large intestine had vanished, exposing the red submucosal layer beneath. His body could no longer disgest or absorb anything he ingested; even water was excreted as diarrhea.

The skin of Ouchi's right hand was almost entirely gone, leaving the surface of his hand raw and dark red. Blisters spread across his right arm and abdomen, then over his entire body. Gauze was required to replace his skin, and his fingers had to be individually wrapped to prevent them from sticking together. Without skin to keep him warm, Ouchi required an electrothermic device to maintain his body temperature while his bandages were changed—a daily procedure that took hours. Every time the gauze was removed, more of Ouchi's remaining skin went with it. His eyelids could not shut, and his eyes bled. His nails fell off.

Ouchi's right arm was necrotizing, leading to an increasing amount of myoglobin—a protein in muscle tissue—flowing in Ouchi's blood. Untreated, this could result in renal failure as the kidneys could not process the amount of myoglobin present.

Ouchi's body could not regenerate the platelets that form scabs, meaning the risk of hemorrhage was extreme.

By day 50, more than two liters of fluid seeped from Ouchi's damaged skin each day. The amount of fluid prevented skin grafts from adhering. Furthermore, he began to suffer from blood in his stool, and permeated blood seeped between his inflamed small and large intestines.

2 Months+ Post-Exposure

On the 59th day after the accident, Ouchi suffered the first of many heart attacks. His kidneys and liver were also failing. He no longer showed reactions to stimuli.

By day 63, Ouchi's macrophages—the immune cells that normally attack and consume bacteria and viruses—were attacking his own healthy blood cells.

After 67 days, Ouchi suffered internal hemorrhage. He bled from his mouth and intestines.

Ouchi would continue to suffer from heart attacks, as many as three in one hour. Each time, he was revived, but he suffered increasing brain damage, until multiple organ failure ended his life after 83 days in the hospital.

Ouchi's colleague Masato Shinohara underwent numerous successful skin grafts and a stem cell transfusion as well as radical cancer treatment, but he, too, died of multiple organ failure after seven months. Their supervisor, Yutaka Yokokawa, was treated for minor radiation sickness and was released from the hospital within three months of the accident.

This detailed chronology was referenced from the book A Slow Death: 83 Days of Radiation Sickness by Iwanami Shoten, translated by Maho Harada. My post, of course, focuses on Ouchi's physical condition in his final months, but it’s important to remember him not just as a victim or a patient. He was a loving husband and father whose sense of humor and resilience left an impression on everyone he came into contact with. The book is available in its entirety here and provides a moving, nuanced account of the incident and the efforts to save Ouchi's life.

[lilu-the-almighty]

I know we all think the blue is radiation. And that is an extremely strong theory and I will not be surprised at all if that is it. But idk it might be my science brain but I don't quite think that is right. Like sure radiation does some of the things mentioned in the story so far, but it mainly effects generationally (if it doesn't just kill you outright). And this whole "lightning" thing seems very strange if the answer is radiation. If it WAS radiation, I feel like Aabria would be leaning into it's effects on the kids?

And maybe she IS doing that. maybe that is what her plan is with Viola's kids. Cause if that is true oh boy guys that is going to FUCK ME UP.

And again this is DND, not a lab report, many of the effects of "the blue" very well may just be for storytelling purposes and I am the last person who is going to dog-pile anyone for stretching reality for a good story. Honestly that would be so cool if this is radiation and that is what she is doing.

But if you held a gun to my head at This Point, October 18 2023, right after I finished watching episode 3, I would say that it is not radiation. Or at the very least not JUST radiation. I think it is something different. I think this big laboratory(?) was a sight for some government experiment and the blue is something of its own. Some horrifying chemical weapon, or new way to harness radiation, or even something that effects stoats directly. Some experiment using stoats as test subjects that went horribly wrong.

Maybe THAT is why the guy in the hazmat suit was reaching specifically for Thorn. Maybe he was trying to clear any of the escaped stoats from the facility? Maybe they had orders to cull every stoat population in the area in hopes to stop the spread of whatever was on those test subjects? Maybe the test subjects are the stoats who are in the "human warren" now.

I am fully just stream of consciousness word vomiting right now, but this campaign is so fucking good. I am on the edge of my seat waiting for next Wednesday.

[transmutationisms]

Thank you for letting me do this, really~~~

Like you mentioned in another post, this isn't specifically about oppenheimer or any narratives it portrays but the wider discussion that's been resurging around usamerican imperialism, nuclear weapons and the military/militarization in general. And this is so very long so I apologise.

The fact of the matter is, even after all the "lessons" learnt from bombing Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the us wanted to do further testing to see the full extent of the impact of nuclear weapons. These tests were carried out in the Marshall Islands in the Pacific, which was already heavily militarized by this point.

As usual when it comes to military interventions and imperialism by core nations, these tests were framed as a necessity "for the greater good", and to "end all wars", even framing its supposed necessity through religious narratives (which, well, christian missionary efforts).

There were 67 tests conducted from 1946 to 1958, and some of the weapons tested like the Bravo bomb dropped on March 1, 1954 over Bikini Atoll were many times more powerful than the ones used in WWII. As expected, these tests completely destroyed  the Marshall Islands, from the ocean to the atmosphere to the land. So much radioactive fallout, so much devastation and literally uninhabitable to any living being.

I want to talk specifically about one of the most atrocious aspects of this whole ordeal which is that while the usamerican authorities evacuated the Marshallese people in Bikini and Enewetak during the 1948-52 testing period (operations sandstone, greenhouse and ivy) to nearby islands, they failed to do so for operation castle series begun in 1954. The relocated populations suffered as well, since there weren't enough resources on the islands they were resettled in to sustain this extra population, and of course, the nuclear fallout would affect them even though no weapons were directly tested in these islands.

The impact of the bravo bomb detonated over Bikini was mainly on the people from Rongerik, Rongelap and Ailinginae atolls, who were not evacuated until after the bomb was detonated at which point they were already exposed to high levels of radiation. In fact, the Rongelapese people were basically used as human test subjects as they were relocated back to Rongelap in 1957 where they remained until 1985 when they had to evacuate themselves.

The us actually declared Rongelap safe and that there were no long term effects from nuclear fallout in order to relocate them. Edward teller himself has gone on interviews to declare how little of an impact the bravo test has had on human lives. Iirc the documents regarding the tests were only declassified in the 70s, so Marshallese people were deliberately kept in the dark about the cause of the illnesses they were experiencing due to nuclear fallout. Here is Lijon Eknilang, a Rongelapese survivor talking about her experiences:

In June 1957, when we did return, we saw changes on our island. Some of our food crops, such as arrowroot, completely disappeared. Makmok, or tapioca plants, stopped bearing fruit. What we did eat gave us blisters on our lips and in our mouths and we suffered terrible stomach problems and nausea. Some of the fish we caught caused the same problems. These were things that had not happened before 1954. Our staple foods had never made us ill. We brought these problems to the attention of the doctors and officials who visited us. They said we were preparing the foods incorrectly, or that we had fish poisoning. We knew that was impossible because we had been preparing and surviving from these foods for centuries without suffering from the problems that appeared after 1954.

It has always been interesting to me that even the people who were not on Rongelap in 1954, but who went there with us in 1957, began to experience the same illnesses we did in later years. Foreign doctors and other officials called those people the “control group,” and we were told the sickness of that group proved our illnesses were common to all Marshallese. We did not believe that, and we learned only recently that the “control group” had come from areas that had also been contaminated by radioactivity from the weapons tests.

The usamerican authorities to this day do not acknowledge how serious and how much of an impact the nuclear weapons have left on the Marshall Islands and its people. There is no acknowledgement of the fact that people outside of the Enewetak, Utrik, Bikini and Rongelap atolls during testing were affected even when they show effects of radiation. There is no acknowledgement of just how much destruction they've brought upon these islands (also keeping in mind that animals were not evacuated). And of course, there is no acknowledgement of the fact that none of this was necessary in the first place (even if it can ever be called necessary). It was basically a large scale human experiment done for the sake of science and the "greater good", with little to no concern about the impact it would leave on the people of Oceania.

Oh, and there's also a huge crater left on Enewetak from the testing that's basically leaking nuclear waste into the soil, still contaminating the flora and fauna in area and beyond. There's so much spending by the us military in the Pacific region, especially now with the whole AUKUS agreement, but nothing has been done to properly contain this waste. Or actually address the violation of Marshallese people's human rights due to nuclear weapons testing. There has never really been any talks of reparations either, and whatever money and resources the us has spent has been woefully inadequate.

While the testing stopped decades ago, this is only a part of the ongoing militarization of Oceania by the US (and associated core and semi-periphery nations). Of course, this is all framed as selfless efforts by the us to prevent wars (which it always seems to be doing), for the greater good of humanity, to take us into further advancement and so on. Lastly, to mention a sliver of the role science has played in all of this: they were celebrating the discovery of new elements after the ivy mike detonation (1952), while people were suffering the impact of ongoing nuclear testing, and iirc, they were actually hoping to discover new elements from these nuclear reactions, so who's to say that these weapons were not made as a part of the race to discover elements, aka scientists' version of a dick measuring contest.

Sources and for more info for anyone interested:

Barbara Rose-Johnston. Nuclear Disaster: The Marshall Islands Experience and Lessons for a Post-Fukushima World [where I got the quote and most of the info from]

April L. Brown. No Promised Land: The Shared Legacy of the Castle Bravo Nuclear Test

Carl Zimmer. Nuclear Tests Marked Life in Earth with a Radioactive Spike [the sheer scope of the radioactive fallout from bravo]

Kit Chapman. Element Hunting in a Nuclear Storm

Edward Teller interview

.

[thicctails]

i should be asleep, quick post angsty TF2 AU art

silly thing that has been marinating in my mind since my tf2 hyperfixation rose from the dead and gripped me by my throat. thank u emesis blue and lil pootis :3

basically, the idea is that this au takes place in a not so distant future, where the two merc teams have been merged into just being Team Fortress under the employment of Saxton Hale, (who just wants to see them beat the crap out of whatever weird, otherwordly beings always tend to pop up around them) and their new Administrator, Miss Pauline, (who is far nicer to work with and gets them, like, actual mercenary and espionage work.) following the death of the Mann brothers and the old Administrator.

(lore continued below + scout's injuries)

The two teams actually get on really well, (really really well if you're Blu Soldier and Red Demo, or Red Spy and Blu Engineer ;) ) and they end up dropping their defenses a little, because surely no one would be stupid enough to target an eighteen strong pack of near feral, borderline insane mercs, as well as their two incredibly fierce, very scary lady associates, Zhanna and Pauline, right?

Well, apparently not, because an old enemy of the Red Spy figures out that the man's son is working with him, and he has a personal grudge against both of them due to something that happened when Jeremey (Red Scout) was a baby. He rounds up a few ex-Conagher Industries employees who have just enough insider knowledge to help him steal and rebuild a functioning respawn machine. Once it's complete, he picks three Mercs to kidnap in order to test the machine, as well as figure out what exactly it is that allows the machine to work on them.

First, lets talk about the Red Scout, Jeremey. Spy's old enemy used to have a brother, until the fool accepted a job that involved him sneaking into a small home in Boston and taking out the son of one of the best spies currently active. Obviously, Spy took care of the issue, though this was the reason he actually ended up leaving. Revenge is only half the reason Scout gets picked, though, with the other being that he's incredibly immune to the effects of radiation on the human body, and actual seems to thrive off it, reaching speeds that really shouldn't be possible. His kidnappers really end up pushing this resistance, and end up leaving him with an incredibly nasty burn that was left too long for respawn to fix.

Next up is the Red Medic, Ludwig. Medic ends up getting nabbed purely because they need someone with the medical knowledge and technology to keep Scout and Soldier alive while they get taken apart in an attempt to figure out exactly how respawn works. He's only allowed to heal them if their kidnappers deem it necessary, or if he gives them the information they try and beat out of him about how he and Engineer managed to have the technology they do. Weeks spent either in isolation or listening to/seeing the people he's grown close to get tortured or killed for other's amusement makes it so that, when they finally get free, he's gone almost feral, and isn't afraid to take a chunk out of anyone who gets too close to him, Scout, or Soldier, be they friend or foe.

Last, but certainly not least, is Blu Soldier, John. Now, unlike Scout and Medic, Soldier wasn't actually supposed to be kidnapped. It was actually supposed to be one of the Engineers, but his kidnapper only received the instructions to grab the "loud, helmet-wearing American with the metal weapon" so. y'know. 😬

Trying again isn't really an option, though, so poor Solly gets to be a science experiment and a human punching bag/ gun practice target. Lucky him! He is also who they test the limits of respawn on, which results in him loosing his sight by the time help arrives.

also mini headcannon that Red Scout has his dad's black hair, he just dyes it. By the time he gets out, he really looks just like a younger Spy.

id like to do a fic for this au one day. and also maybe pick a name for it

[queencaramilflinda]

Post ep 4 Burrow’s End theories in no particular order

The building that the Last Bast is in was originally a laboratory where humans were testing the effects of radiation/something similar on stoats.

The First Stoats referenced in the ‘next time on’ section were the stoats that were experimented on, which is how they have lived so long

The First Stoats were the ones who somehow caused the humans to have to leave the base/laboratory/Last Bast, or at the very least took advantage of an accident/experiment gone wrong to take it for themselves

The Last Bast are morally ambiguous/bad

A few generations ago some stoats defected from Last Bast, and they’re the ones who founded The Red Warren, making our PCs their descendants, and that is why they can talk already

At some point there will be zombies to fight, probably the zombies of the dead stoats? Which is why they don’t like to think of them as people after they die?

Someone, probably Jaysohn, will befriend a human and they will realize that humans aren’t inherently bad and are trying to clean up the radiation because of the harm it has done to people

[winterwrites23]

Nations and medicine/illness

Nations can live for a long time thanks to their connection with the Land; we can say they're semi-immortal because under certain circumstances they can die. Since a Nation has a human form to represent the People, their physical body can be affected by ailments and other things. After all, if they can eat and sleep, that means they can also get sick.

Immunity by osmosis: In the case of a pandemic or a rapid rise of a disease/illness across the Land, a Nation will get symptoms when it's at its peak, but they do not infect other people. But once the population is majorly cured or develops a resistance, they will become immune.

Should I take 1 ibuprofen or 10?: While modern medicine has helped and saved many people, it doesn't work as much for Nations because of their unique metabolism. So for medicine to even have an effect, a Nation needs to take a much higher dose that would normally be fatal for a human.

Poison me? Nice try: Similar to medicine, poison won't affect a Nation much. They would get the symptoms but not for long, unless the dosage is higher, then they would be temporarily incapacitated. Assassination attempts are more of a bother for Nations. It's also why it takes a lot of alcohol for them to get drunk.

Going all natural: Because of their connection with their Land, herbal/natural medicine works better on a Nation than man-made medication. The more organic and natural the medicine is, the better the benefits (the same is true with poisons). It doesn't cure them by any means, but it does help alleviate the symptoms.

Radiation: A Nation that has nuclear plants or does testing can get radiation poisoning for a time, since it affects the Land's natural order. It's an uncomfortable feeling because it doesn't feel right, and it takes a long time for nature to recover.

PG vampire: A Nation can get a blood transfusion from all blood types because they represent a population. However, they cannot donate blood to humans since they're not 100% human. It is possible, however, for a Nation to give blood to another Nation, but the population of both needs to be similar.

(trigger warning for death down below)

Scars heal, but they're still there: Chronic pain is possible for Nations, it normally comes from an injury that reflects an important event in history (war, natural disaster, political shift, etc.). A traumatic death can also leave lingering effects on a Nation's body, such as phantom pains even if the limb grew back.

Have mercy on my soul: While a lethal illness won't kill a Nation because of their semi-immortality, there's a time when the suffering becomes unbearable even to a strong-willed person. Especially if man-made medicine won't help them alleviate the pain. So in extreme cases, a Nation will undergo amputation/coma or even ask for a mercy kill just to make it stop for a time. However, playing with death is a gamble even for Nations, so it's a last resort.

More headcanons

[generic-whumperz]

Apocamerica Map

Apocamerica Masterlist

Understanding this map: Please note that I’m not a professional map maker and know absolutely nothing about cartography. This is simply a quick visual reference guide for navigating post-apocalypse America.

That being said, this map is subject to change and not wholly accurate or representative of safe/unsafe zones, as they constantly change, and there is yet to be an official database within this alternative universe. Think of this as an approximation. Also, keep in mind that this is 12 years after the initial outbreak, and things did not always look like this, nor will they continue to remain the same. Take this all with a grain of salt.

Zone breakdowns

Red, orange, & gray zones: AVOID AT ALL COSTS! Death is almost guaranteed from radiation and mutant anthrophages alike.

Blue Zone: Republic of Arcadia

Yellow zones: The yellow zones on the map are areas where human settlements still exist, and some communities are even thriving. However, these areas lack military protection and government aid, so they are considered unsafe (however subjective the word “safe” is within the context of this map). Yellow zones are also susceptible to radioactive wastelands but are often unexplored, classifying them as "unknown." Travelers in these areas risk encountering various dangers outside of anthrophages, including mutant animals, extremist groups, wasteland gangs, marauders, raiders, and other unsavory characters. Despite their predicted presence, these groups are not marked on this map as they tend to move around and are hard to keep tally of.

Green zones (power & economy): Areas designated as green zones are not entirely safe from security breaches, nemaxys outbreaks, and gang wars over territory and supply runs. These zones consist mainly of civilians striving to survive and establish a livelihood. As a result of the volatile post-outbreak landscape, the green zones are divided into constantly changing sectors. The few remaining "safe" human settlements are widely dispersed, leading the remaining Governors and congressmen to propose the formation of nation-states to exert better control over their respective areas.

However, the current de facto President, the former Speaker of the House, is determined to maintain control over sector territories and military command. They face the challenge of navigating a fragmented nation while contending with threats from the ROA and other factions attempting to seize power, testing their leadership in their efforts to restore order and unity to the ravaged remains of the US.

Despite the President’s efforts, the power vacuum in the sectors continues to expand as power-hungry politicians spare no effort to secure civilian allegiance. Some congressmen and governors have carved out their own fiefdoms within green and yellow zones, effectively becoming warlords of their respective regions.

Following the outbreak, the Hawaiian islands and Alaska are presumed to be the safest and untouched land masses. Hawaii closed its borders and halted all imports/ exports as soon as the first case of the nemaxys contagion hit the news. Meanwhile, a mass exodus of people left the continental US and headed up to Alaska, and the new capitol was relocated to a small Alaskan fishing town.

After the establishment of the Provisional Emergency Relief Agency (PERA), a federal-level build-back program was implemented in all green zones. The Bureau of Labor & Exports (BOLE) oversaw the program and regulated Chattel Services Inc. (CSI) and the remaining corporate-owned labor forces, which had a significant impact on the reconstruction efforts.

Under stringent government sanctions, an underground illicit black market has flourished, giving rise to new crime families that have ascended to power. These new syndicates replaced the previously dominant players, seizing control of the markets and territories once held by their fallen rivals.

Economic collapse rendered money worthless for a period, but eventually, the monetary system was reinstated, allowing for the revival of commerce through traditional means and ration tickets.

While crime and punishment were primarily addressed at the local level, the aftermath of the chaos led most people to abandon violence once their basic needs were met. Gainful employment provided them with a sense of purpose and belonging in society.

What about travel?

Transportation outside green zones mainly involves using trains, planes, or boats, as navigating on the ground with vehicles through a post-apocalyptic wasteland is considered too risky. However, some people still opt for ground transportation despite being viewed as dangerous and ill-advised compared to other means of travel.

[jasperandhenryslovechild]

guys...... post apocalyptic henry danger au belowww......

do you like apocalypse aus!!! do you like unincorporated county of swellview (an AMAZING fic series by octoberbardo on ao3 go check it out)!!! do you like sweet tooth!!!! and also slightly the last of us!!! do you like oc content!!!

fear not good friend because i have come PREPARED WITH EVERYTHING to feed each one of those ideas!!! all packed into one au!!!

it's kinda a big mush of everything i enjoy rn— the hybrid / sense of dread aspect of sweet tooth, the underlying corruption and politics behind swellview and rays job as a hero as a whole with unincorporated county of swellview, lowkey tlou vibes (but also highkey yaelokre vibes to me too), it's just like AGRGRHGHH BUT ANYWAYS

YAP ABOUT THIS INCOMING

--

ok so it's based kinda off of a fix called unincorporated county of swellview, but also inspired off of sweet tooth, and also loosely inspired by the last of us

ray manchester is a government employee

which is obvious— as a hero, he works under the influence of the mayor of swellview, for the greater swellview county. and, to an extent, for the government of the five quint cities (rivalton and bordertown, adjacent city, neighborville, and swellview).

as a result of being a hero, ray is forced to perform different sorts of favors for the mayor in order to keep him on top. at some point, he is asked to assist with a third, different kind of favor. not just for the mayor, but to directly assist the quint city government. as a lab rat child—because ever since carl manchester accidentally made his child indestructible, why wouldn't he conduct experiments to make sure he stays that way?—who better to ask about what to do with these new findings than ray himself! besides, these new findings aren't just findings, they're people. people that the quint city government is collectively banding together to kidnap and use for their "new" discovery; the side effects of the trans molecular densitizer when used on other humans beings

originally made to make unbreakable glass, the machine made ray manchester the world's first completely invincible man. and by making him a hero, of course the government wanted to know if they could do it with other people. turns out, they can't. but the amount of radiation and chemical shit pumped through the bloodstream during those moments in the densitizer is enough to alter the chemical composition of any human being who goes through it. giving them freaky abilities and features. and carl manchester knew this— of course he did, because he'd done it himself with a bunch of different people a dozen times after ray. tweaking it and fixing it to make whoever went through it only indestructible and not have some weird, off putting physical tie to remember the experience by for the rest of their lives. it was a fail, ray was just a miracle. but that's not how these higher ups viewed that.

some of those abilities were, indeed, completely useless, and some were incredibly useful for the government. especially in this time of crisis— the world is on a cusp of a war the quint cities started due to bad negotiations and treaties with foreign nations. nobody wants to fight in that war, and those who do aren't skilled enough to last. but people like these are, people who are chemically altered to harbor animalistic features. sharp claws, animal ears to hear long distances. and it's exactly why they ask carl manchester to alter the densitizer for soley this purpose, and for ray to supervise the process for quality assurance. oh, and to conduct tests on these super humans, to make sure they're indestructible and that their abilities are useful enough to keep them around for. if not, they'll probably just put them back through a molecular transducer and try again with someone else.

ray is fucking outraged when the mayor tells him everything. he has to keep it a secret and he isn't happy about it at all. it's the only time he takes his public presence and uses it in direct opposition to the government he's under rather than working with it, because he would rather die than have to supervise over the same torture he went through being endured into others. who wouldn't?

ray isn't sure what keeps him from not quitting his job as capitan man as he starts publicly spilling secrets about the five quint cities and the greater swellview county, "a place where nothing ever happens". he starts small and works his way up through public speeches, grand openings, and even social media posts soley based around exposing the mayor. because he won't stand for this— as a protector of swellview, this is the only way to protect his citizens as he sees fit

two months later, ray manchester goes missing without a trace. all posts made contradicting the quint city government are taken down. people who speak up about it go missing too— it's like they're trying to pretend ray never existed

five months later, the boom happens & nuclear warfare practically destroys the world

a year later, hybrid children are born (supposedly) from the surviving mothers. without explanation.

ollie and sovilo— who used to work for ray behind the scenes before the world began dismantling itself and before ray went missing—are convinced there's a greater force acting behind all of this. ray's dissaperance had something to do with all of this, and if he's still alive out there, he has every answer they seek. but with the fall of technology, it's increasingly harder to get there than before. all his hints that ray could have possibly dropped publicly that could help find him were only documented through video captures, and those are now lost to nuclear explosion upon nuclear explosion. it all eradicated technology and the internet as a whole— there's practically no use in trying to find someone to fix it, especially with a good 3/4ths of the population dead. if that information only found on a device wasnt truly lost and unrecoverable, the only people who could probably provide the duo with it are probably dead already

factions begin to rise in the coming years after the end of the world at large. the last men, the harbingers. all factions that connect to ray somehow—all that connect to the Mayor somehow, because it has to— but that man still being alive is just an unproven rumor nowadays and there's no way for ollie or sovi or anyone to know for sure unless they go looking for both the mayor and ray

the only people they could possibly turn to for assistance with that were henry, charlotte, jasper, and schwoz. a painstakingly long trip to dystopia which brought about hundreds of different challenges for the duo brings up nothing. they're all dead— dead long before they could have even thought of reaching them. radiation poisoning is a bitch, and they probably died without knowing who was trying to find them at all. but, in their wake— or rather, in mainly schwoz's wake—they leave clues. clues to these groups of children, and to a whole different faction. clues that point towards ray, and all they have to do is follow them

---

if you made it this far i am so proud thank you so much

i don't really know how i wanna go about telling this story but i do know i really really want to tell it!!! theres so much stuff i wanna say or draw or write or anything about this au but im not rlly sure how, but if anyone has any ideas or questions or comments dump them here or in my asks or whatever rlly!! ask things!!! have comments!!!! i love talking to ppl about the things i create sosooososo yes yes anyways i hope this was enjoyable :)

[quixoticanarchy]

WHAT do you mean human radiation experiments I shouldn't be surprised by anything of this nature anymore but I sure haven't seen those words in that order before wtf

Ahh yeah what I mean is uh as the US was developing the atomic bomb during WWII they decided they needed human experimental data to know what kind of health impacts the plutonium and uranium radiation exposure was having on their scientists, so they arranged for a bunch of people to be given plutonium to see what happened

And then after WWII they were still interested in health impacts of radiation but also in the impacts of radiological weapons (corollary to chemical and biological weapons) so they kept on testing the effects of radiation on people, by like.. spraying "tracer" clouds with radioactive particles in Minneapolis and St Louis, releasing radiation from the Hanford nuclear site, doing open air tests of radiological weapons, giving radioactive oatmeal to developmentally disabled kids, giving radioactive iron to pregnant patients, and other things I'm probably forgetting. All of this had analogues and collaborative projects with other countries too but the US examples are just the ones I know most details about. And all of this was done without informing people of what they were being exposed to ofc

(the books I've been reading on this are The Plutonium Files by Welsome and Behind the Fog by Martino-Taylor btw)

[rainycat2]

Though I Could Not Stop For Death / Death Kindly Stopped For Me

Chapter Two: Glimpses and Insights

The good thing about being one of the lead-- and only if he was honest with himself-- researchers on the effects of ectoplasmic energy and radiation on the human realm was that the United States government was willing to bypass certain things in order to keep the Fenton’s continued cooperation and research firmly under their sponsorship. For instance, the favor they’d called in to help set up an identity and fast-track an adoption for the boy they’d found in the alley.

Upon discovering the boy, they had taken him in, patched him up, and put him up for the night in their guest room, immediately contacting CPS to inform them of what they’d found. The poor boy had a scar in the center of his chest, inches below his heart, with bruised skin surrounding the area. That wasn’t the only scar he carried, but the most immediate one-- it looked like it had only barely healed over, tissue still angry and red. The agency had instructed them to take him to the hospital first thing, where they found out the boy… effectively did not exist.

He wasn’t listed in any databases. No fingerprints, no registration of his birth, no known parents in the system. For all they could tell, he’d never even been in a hospital.

He also made it difficult as all hell to get any information. When he first spoke, he only spoke in Arabic, and the hospital had to bring in a translator. His name was Danyal, he had no last name, and did not know where he was or how he’d gotten there. When the nurse attempted to draw his blood, he’d almost bit her before the translator explained. Even then, it took a demonstration and explanation to prove that it would not be detrimental to him before he allowed it.

Jasmine, though… well. She’d taken one look at the boy in the alley and claimed him as her own. At ten years old, she’d plopped herself down on Danyal’s hospital bed, damn the consequences, and started chattering away, talking about anything and everything-- what she’d learned in school, her friend James who’d dyed his hair recently, the new family who’d moved in a few weeks back. And surprisingly, Danyal listened. Attentively. He’d slowly begun asking halting questions back, his voice hardly above a whisper, but in fluent English.

Jack shook his head, signing his signature on another piece of paperwork before flipping the page. As they had been first contact, and the boy had nowhere else to go after a test discovered the low level of ectoplasmic radiation clinging to him… The Fentons were approved for an emergency fostering situation after passing their inspections. Who else was equipped to keep an eye on his radiation levels? That was part of the whole reason the Fentons had set up shop in Amity Park, Illinois. Their social worker, however, had been very insistent that Danyal not have anything to do with their research other than monitoring his ectoplasmic levels, and the Fentons had readily agreed. They still had to take a course on trauma-informed care for parenting-- Danyal had been through so much, the extent of which they likely would never know. Their caseworker, a kind woman named Katherine, had explained that while Danyal knew English and could speak it fluently, they suspected it to be his second language. It would take time and lots of trust before he would open up and relax around them.

But… in the brief few weeks they’d spent together, Danyal had already captured his way into their hearts. Jazz nicknamed him Danny after they’d spent an afternoon trying to pronounce his name. She’d almost had it, from what Jack gathered, but she was missing the lilt to the end of the name that just. Could not be fixed. Despite hours of trying. So, Danny had eventually given up and given in to the nickname.

Jack rubbed his eyes, set his pen down as he got up from the desk. It was about time when the kids would be going to bed, and so he started the nightly routine that had recently expanded-- visit Jazz’s room first on the second floor, as it was closer to the stairwell, tuck her in and tell her good night as he turned down the lights. She liked to stay up reading with a light under her covers, so in about an hour, Mads would come by and do the same, telling her to go to sleep for real this time.

This time, however… Jazz’s bed was empty. Jack blinked in confusion, then glanced down the hall.

---

“Maddie, oh my God, you need to come look at this,” her husband whispered urgently from the stairs. Maddie looked up, one eyebrow raising as she marked her page with a bookmark and set the textbook aside.

“What is it?”

“Just-- come up here-- quiet, I don’t want to wake them up.”

She blinked, then smiled softly as she crept up the stairs, sneaking down the hallway to the open door of Danny’s room. The overhead light was off, but the lamp was still on, giving them a perfect view.

Danny was curled up in a little ball, snuggled right up into Jazz, her arms around him, one resting on a book on their legs. The light played with the shadows on their faces, the relaxed expressions showing their ages of eight and ten.

Maddie couldn’t help the squeal she muffled with her hand.

In her defense? It was adorable.

Though she did immediately regret it as Danny’s eyes snapped open, bright blue focusing on them both. She froze, lowering her hands from her mouth to show her soft smile, knowing that Jack was almost certainly smiling as well.

And somehow… that seemed to be enough for him. A few owlish blinks before the corner of his lips turned up, just a little, before he snuggled back into Jazz and closed his eyes.

Oh, how Maddie wished she had a camera.

---

Over time, the collection of photos lining the walls of the Fenton house grew. Danny’s first day of school, once his therapist had said he was adjusted enough to go, and that it would be beneficial to his development. The first time they’d gone out together as a family. The first summer fair. Danny and Madeline training together, after they’d realized the other had self-defense training.

Danny was ten, now. Acclimating to his new life had been… weird. It was weird being away from the League, not knowing… everything about how he’d gotten here.

He remembered dying. That was hard to forget, honestly-- letting himself falter, letting Damian survive at his own expense. Mother’s cries as he faded, Damian sobbing and apologizing.

Damian.

His thoughts often wondered to his little brother (by two minutes, Damian liked to protest), worried about how he had grown. If he had grown at all. They weren’t the first Heirs to the Demon Head, after all. Simply the ones who were the most useful. Their father had been a prospective Heir, but turned Grandfather down.

Danyal wondered how he had managed to get away alive after that. Ra’s didn’t take “no” for an answer very well.

A tap on his knee, and Danny looked up at unfamiliar violet eyes, way too close to his space. His shoulders tensed as he leaned back, furrowing his eyebrows. “Can I… help you?”

The girl, probably his age give or take a year, had plopped herself down at the picnic table in the elementary school playground and had taken to watching him. “You’re different,” she proclaimed after a moment’s consideration. “You’re not like Paulina or the others. What’s your name?”

“Danny,” he answered. “Why? And what do you mean, I’m different?”

“I don’t know.” The girl sighed sharply, looking at the other kids playing around. Even from here, on one of his first days, Danny could just tell the cliques being formed. They’d be going into middle school, soon, but, well. People had their groups of friends, and Danyal was content being the observer on the sidelines, gathering information. That was what he was best at, watching and observing, collecting intel for missions.

“Well, that’s not an answer.” He shrugged and looked back at the homework on the table in front of him, idly writing in some of the answers. Multiplying fractions by whole numbers, honestly. Boring.

“It’s the answer I have. Anyway, my name’s Sam,” she continued. “You’re new, aren’t you? The new Fenton kid that got adopted, right? My mom was talking about you, I think, to Paulina’s dad. It’s nice that they adopted you.”

He had to hold back the urge to roll his eyes. “Sam isn’t a proper name.”

“Neither is Danny,” she shot back.

Alright, he had to give her that. A smile tugged at the edge of his mouth as he set his pencil down, shifting to look at her. “Okay, that’s fair. Yes, the Fentons adopted me two years ago. Yes, I’m new, I had a lot to work through before I could attend school. Do you have any other questions?”

Sam blinked, confusion flitting across her face at the businesslike tone he took. “Oh, um… Do you wanna be friends?”

“Friends?”

“Yeah, like. We can have playdates and do homework and stuff. Mom keeps telling me I need to make more friends, and Paulina’s been getting weird lately, so… Friends!”

“...I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Jasmine is encouraging me to have friends as well.” He held his hand out for her to shake.

---

Danny was growing up pretty well, if Jazz said so herself. Oh sure, their family was absolutely insane even at the best of times. Sure, she was a sophomore in high school now, but… seeing how much work Danny’s social worker and therapists had done, how much they’d accomplished together, it made her want to help kids like they’d helped her brother.

She spotted the moment he realized she was watching him, his shoulders tensing almost imperceptibly until he met her gaze. Play it off, she’s not staring, not at all. Jazz got up, moving over to the kitchen table where Danny had previously been staring at the page in some… form of disgust mixed with annoyance.

“Hello, little brother,” Jazz giggled, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Should I offer to help you with your homework, considering you look like you want to set it on fire?”

“Jazz, this paper is literally going to kill me,” he groaned as he rubbed his face, pencil clattering onto the paper. “It’s just-- it’s so boring! I understand why we should learn how to predict events and how to prepare for them, but I learned how to do that before I learned to talk.”

“You should take that test to go into a higher grade,” Jazz encouraged. “I did it! And really, it’s so much more interesting. I get to take astronomy classes, I know you want to work for NASA when we’re grownups.”

“I know, I know,” Danny hummed. “But my therapist says it would be ‘detrimental to my development as a growing teenage boy coming from my background’,” he drawled, his voice completely monotone, drawing a laugh out of his big sister. “They act like I’m a feral kid, honestly.”

“You tried to bite your nurses when we first took you to the hospital. And the nurses when you got your vaccines. And your fifth grade teacher--”

“Okay, okay! Maybe I was a little feral,” Danny gave in.

---

He really hasn’t changed, has he? Jazz thought to herself from her perch on the top of a building, watching her little brother go apeshit on Skulker. Danny was fifteen now, and…

Her little brother was a superhero. Well, Danny liked to deflect, call himself a ‘vigilante at best’, but… well. They knew better, really. He’d done some awesome things, and she meant that in the Biblical sense of “awesome”-- truly awe-inspiring things that, if it were anyone else… well, they’d probably be a little concerned. Danny, though?

Danny was probably one of the genuinely kindest people she ever knew. Apparently, after his big defeat of Pariah Dark, Clockwork had taken him aside and talked about what that really meant, to defeat the High King of Ghosts in one-to-one combat. The Infinite Realms worked on a hierarchy of power, after all.

Which meant that on top of his duties as a vigilante superhero, and having just finished his sophomore year, Danny was also being tagged in for High Prince of Ghosts duties. Which, apparently, included acting as a psychopomp in some situations, albeit with quite a bit more ass-kicking.

As she watched Danny give Skulker one hell of a roundhouse kick, it felt like… her perspective of reality blurred. One minute they were in the sky, the next, Danny was floating in front of her with a paper in hand, Skulker nowhere to be seen. So really, you could hardly hold her responsible for the sharp jump and yelp, reaching out to sock him in the shoulder. “Danny! Don’t do that, I thought you were fighting-!”

Danny let his shoulder go intangible with a laugh, patting her on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Jazz. It… we need to have a talk with the rest of the gang, hold on a sec.” He tapped the communicator in his ear. “Phantom to team, come in team.”

“Here, as always,” Tucker’s voice buzzed, followed quickly by Sam’s agreement.

“Cutting patrol short tonight, guys,” he hummed, wrapping his arm around Jazz’s waist as they took off into the air. “Let’s meet back up at my place and talk-- seems we’ve got a letter from good ol’ Clocky.”

“Oh, Ancients,” Sam sighed. “Can we not get one normal summer?”

“Redundant question, sorry, Danny,” Tucker apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, guys-- let’s just get back and talk.”

---

“I’m sorry, he wants you to do what?!” Sam whisper-yelled, a throw pillow clutched tightly against her chest. “Danny, you’ve got to be joking. You can’t just… you can’t just tell your parents. I mean, what are they going to think?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, he’s the Master of All Time. If he says that this is probably the best time to tell them, because I’m needed for Prince of the Realms stuff this summer, then that’s probably in my best interest to listen to him,” he argued, tucking a knee to his chest. “Just… look, I just need you guys to be there with me when I tell them. It’s not like I can just burst out of the gate with it.”

“And, y’know, Mom and Dad have gotten a lot better, lately,” Jazz mused. “They’re really focusing on the science of what they’re doing instead of just… building weapons for ghost hunting. I think they took my lecture on being researchers to heart.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “You screamed at them for a solid hour.”

“It was a lecture!”

“Not to be the voice of reason here or anything,” Tucker cut in, “but… I have to agree with Danny, Sam. Clockwork hasn’t guided us wrong yet, and technically, Danny’s his boss now, so I don’t think he wants to see him go power-crazy. Especially not after all that crap last time.”

Danny winced. “Really, just. Salt in that wound, huh?”

“Sorry man. But seriously, we just… sit them down and break out the powerpoint we made. We can all take turns explaining it,” Tucker reasoned. “And besides, where he goes, we go anyway.”

Sam huffed. “Fine. But I’m keeping my armor on standby.”

Danny grinned. “Thanks, guys. Now, we should plan for it this weekend, so we can start planning the summer trip…”

----

All things considered? Telling the Fentons was… a whole lot less screaming and accusations than Danny halfway expected. They took the information calmly, watching the presentation the teenagers gave-- and really, it was a damn good presentation. They’d gotten scans from Frostbite about Danny’s biology, his DNA, and how his long-term exposure to ectoplasmic radiation had protected him from straight up dying in the portal accident. How the Realms had saved him as much as it killed him. How he’d spent so much goddamn time, blood sweat and tears keeping the city, the world safe from their own little brand of cosmic horrors.

How they’d learned that fighting was how ghosts socialized, so they set up ways to keep it from being destructive on Danny’s grades and the town itself.

Their parents were… shocked, to say the least. But at their hearts, they were scientists. Scientists that had been fed lies and bigotry about ghosts in a field where they didn’t have the ability, for so long, to prove that bigotry wrong-- and when they did finally have the ability, their want to be proven wrong had long since disappeared. How their bias had been drilled into them by their professors, by their professors, by everyone in the field.

They needed time to reassess. To work through their biases, to… to try to apologize, in some way.

Danny said they didn’t need to apologize.

They insisted.

---

His mission, of course, was hardly put in clear terms. Danny thought that Clockwork just liked to fuck with him, at this point, as his Guardian. He had the right to, or whatever. Regardless, the young ghost just had to stare as Clockwork explained.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to go to Gotham, a place that is notoriously full of crime, murder, and 100% has a supernatural presence, because the City Ghost has said that she’ll make your afterlife miserable if I don't deal with their furry problem?” he said incredulously.

“I hardly said that, Danyal,” Clockwork hummed. “What I said is that Lady Gotham, one of the older City Ghosts on this side of the world, has requested your assistance with your connections to both the living and Infinite realms in regards to a problem with one of her Protectors.”

“...So, the Bats,” Danny grumbled. “Hooray, that’s definitely what I wanted to do this summer. Go into the city that notably hates metas.”

“I hardly think that they will take umbrage with your presence,” Clockwork chuckled, patting his charge’s shoulder. “After all, your father lives in Gotham, does he not?”

Danny rubbed at his face as they floated to the couches that had appeared, the Long Now sensing the wants and needs of its owner. “I guess. That’s kind of… part of the problem, you know? I don’t want to go and see him, and then have to pretend that we’re… I mean, I know he’s my Father. I do. But.. I have enough problems without having to deal with the whole-ass Justice League on my ass, you know?”

“I believe you have less problems than you believe you do,” Clockwork hummed.

Danny narrowed his eyes. “Are you… going to give me a better answer than that?”

“No.”

“Enigmatic bastard.”

“If either of us is a bastard, young Prince, it would be you.”

“You cheeky-!”

TAGLIST: @mynameisnotlaura @fisticuffsatapplebees @screamingtofillthevoid @lizisipancardo @digitizedworld @dahliasandrosemary

NEXT CHAPTER: ==>

[dzthenerd490]

File: Oculus

SCP#: AJW

Code Name: The Mirror Demon

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-AJW is contained at Site-AR and is wrapped with a blanket that is sown with thaumaturgic symbols, meant to repress SCP-AJW’s anomalous abilities. These symbols specifically target SCP-AJW’s ability to create illusions in the minds of those who wander too close. SCP-AJW is contained within a 5x5 meter containment cell but is separated from the rest of the Site by a 10-meter hallway. Within the sides of this hallway are pillars also covered with thaumaturgic symbols to suppress the range of SCP-AJW's area of effect.

Testing must be approved by at least three Level 3 Foundation Staff or higher and must be transported to the assigned testing chamber by AFA-2 units. Once inside the testing chamber all Foundation staff observing even if they are in a separate room are to be wearing specialized Anti-Cognito Hazard headgear or goggles. Only after having said gear will the ritualistic blanket be removed. The only security to be present are the AFA-2 units and all other Foundation staff are to remain at least 100 feet away from the testing chamber as a precaution. Once testing is concluded the blanket must be put back and wrapped all around SCP-AJW before being returned to its containment cell. 

Description: SCP-AJW is a mirror that stands almost 5 feet tall and 2 feet wide, heavily detailed with a black outline frame giving it an ancient beautiful but haunting vibe. The mirror seems to possess no traces of thaumaturgic frequencies or TRE radiation yet possesses several souls cursed within it after death. This has only led to more confusion on its origin as well as how it is even able to function the way it does.

SCP-AJW absorbs the life force of those it is around, the most notable aspect of this behavior is when it like plants around it wither and animals become increasingly aggressive and malnourished. However, it is unable to do the same for humans, instead it slowly breaks them down by making them insane. SCP-AJW unleashes illusions onto any human who looks at it or is even close to it. The range of this effect is anywhere within 2,000 square feet for those who have seen it. However, those who haven’t are safe so long as they maintain a distance of 200 square feet. These illusions will trick people into killing one another, touching dangerous objects, or convince them that they are not being hurt when they receive any kind of damage to their own bodies. 

SCP-AJW feeds on souls and death so it continues to cause as much damage as it can in order to achieve this. However, SCP-AJW is extremely smart as well being able to come up with hundreds of contingency plans as it torments its victims. It has also been proven that the only way for someone to bring harm to SCP-AJW is to either wear Anti-cognito hazard gear or by luck alone. SCP-AJW is also able to affect the mental state of those it has caught under its effect, able to make them lose hope or see those they once called friends and family as enemies. 

SCP-AJW was discovered in 2013 when a young man named [data expunged] was sent to prison after killing his sister when the two tried to study SCP-AJW. Apparently, this was the second time he was convicted of family murder as when he was a child, he sent to a mental facility for killing his own father and mother. The Foundation saw this as a red flag and had agents within the law enforcement apprehend the SCP-AJW as it was there during both events and the young man claimed it was at fault for everything. Despite the Ethics Committee’s plea, the O5 Council saw no reason to waste resources on the man so Protocol “Sole Survivor” was not given consideration for his sake. He was later killed in prison by his fellow inmates.

Due to the possible cognito-hazard SCP-AJW was sent to Site-AB to be contained. However, MTF units and researchers that got SCP-AJW to its containment expressed feeling strangely weak and seeing things in the corner of their eyes that weren't supposed to be there. They only felt better after being escorted at least 2,000 feet form SCP-AJW. They needed to be escorted as every time they tried to leave its vicinity willingly, they just walked in circles without realizing it. 

Now that it was realized how truely dangerous SCP-AJW was, Site-AR was declared the most logical choice for containment with the Department of Technology, Alchemy, Science, Magic, and Warfare in charge of establishing the containment procedures. SCP-AJW is outrageously dangerous and as such the Decommissioning Department has made several requests to have it destroyed. Due to testing being ongoing given the complexity of the anomaly it is this request has been put on hold for now. Though as the years go by more administrative staff are in agreement that SCP-AJW is too dangerous to be left alone.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 3) Chapter Twelve

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Twelve: Anger Beginning

Summary: The Enterprise encounters Klingons, and tensions run unusually high.

            Captain’s Log: A distress call from a human colony on Beta XII-A was picked up by the Enterprise. A landing party has beamed down to investigate further, and we remain on alert due to the claims of being attacked.

            (Y/N), Kirk, Chekov, Bones, and a security officer materialized on the planet surface and held their phasers tightly.

            “Report, Mr. Chekov,” said Kirk as they carefully surveyed the territory.

            “Full scan, results negative,” said Chekov. “Radiation level normal. Atmosphere and terrain undisturbed. No evidence of a colony, nor any residual after-effect of a force that might have annihilated.”

            “Life readings, Dr. McCoy?” asked Kirk.

            “Nothing,” said Bones. “But they said they were being attacked by an unidentified ship.”

            “Which we were unable to detect upon approach,” said Chekov.

            “An entire human colony, a whole settlement…Who did it, and why?” murmured Kirk angrily. His communicator beeped, and he answered it instantly. “Kirk here.”

            “Spock here, Captain,” said Spock. “Sensors have picked up a Klingon ship closing fast.”

            “Deflectors on. Condition Red,” said Kirk. “Protect yourselves. Total reply if attacked.” He scowled. “So that’s the answer: Klingons.”

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Captain, there is no evidence of anything, yet. We should remain neutral so we don’t initiate any issues.” They didn’t particularly like the Klingons (after all, the ones they had met had been pretty rude), but they were a negotiations officer. They were there for diplomacy.

            “Captain, the enemy ship is drifting, totally disabled, and we never fired upon her,” reported Spock.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow before a sudden sensation stole their attention. A collection of new emotional auras appeared, vibrating with anger and aggression. “Captain!” they said in alarm, and the moment after they spoke, a landing party of Klingons rounded a boulder.

            One officer walked up and went to strike Kirk, but (Y/N) stepped in front and blocked him. He pushed them back and glared, and his anger burned around (Y/N).

            “You attacked my ship,” he spat, glaring at Kirk. “Four hundred of my crew, dead. Kirk, my ship is disabled. I claim yours. You are now prisoners of the Klingon Empire, against which you’ve committed a wanton act of war.”

            (Y/N) blinked and raised an eyebrow. Now this was a strange development. The situation didn’t make sense at all. And as the anger of the Klingons and the tension wavering around (Y/N)’s friends, they knew they would have to tread carefully to keep war from breaking out.

            They stepped back alongside their friends as the Klingons pulled their weapons and circled around them. The Captain of the Klingons began pacing in front of them.

            “Three years the Federation and the Klingon Empire have been at peace—a treaty, we have honored to the letter,” said the captain.

            “We took no action against your ship, Kang,” replied Kirk curtly.

            “Were the screams of my crew imaginary?” snapped Kang. “What were your orders, Kirk? To start a war? You’ve succeeded!”

            (Y/N) winced as the anger from their friends and the Klingons spiked. It was like there every emotion was heightened.

            “To test a weapon? We shall be happy to examine in,” said Kang.

            “There was a Federation colony on this planet!” snapped Kirk. “It was destroyed!”

            “By what?” sneered Kang. “No bodies. No ruins. A colony of the invisible?”

            “Yes.” Kirk glared. “A test of a new Klingon weapon leaving no traces? Federation ships don’t specialize in sneak attacks.”

            “Captain Kirk, Captain Kang, neither of you has proof the other has done anything. This seems to be a misunderstanding. Let’s try to talk before either of you does something you’ll regret,” said (Y/N), interjecting firmly.

            Kang tsked. “Of course, the Celian among you is trying to twist the situation to benefit you. Such a soft species ready at your beck and call. Pathetic.”

            (Y/N) kept their face expressionless, but they frowned inwardly. Every word seemed to irritate the Klingons, and the anger was a constant cloud around them. Though, (Y/N) was glad their appearance wasn’t brought up like it had been Kolax.

            “He lured my ship into an ambush by a false Klingon distress call. You all will tell us why, with proper persuasion,” declared Kang.

            “You received a distress call?” spat Kirk. “We received a distress call!”

            (Y/N) was growing frustrated with the lack of logic coming from all of them. None of them were stupid. They should know that this was all quite strange and there was something more to the situation.

            “I don’t propose to spend the rest of my life on this ball of dust arguing your fantasies!” shouted Kang. “The Enterprise is mine.”

            “Captains, please—”

            “No,” Kang cut them off. “I’ve heard enough of you Federation scum. Captain Kirk, you will instruct your Transporter Room to beam us aboard.”

            “Go to the devil,” responded Kirk promptly.

            “We have no devil, Kirk…” drawled Kang. “But we understand the habits of yours.” He paced before them like a predator eyeing its prey. “I shall torture you to death…one by one…until your noble Captain cries enough.”

            (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, and Kang’s anger burned at them, but the fear of their friends pricked at their skin in an ugly mixture.

            “Who will be first?” questioned Kang, anger intensifying as he glared at the group.

            It’s almost unnatural, thought (Y/N). I know the temper of Klingons, but this is ridiculous. They opened their mouth to speak, to volunteer themself since even if their friends were being foolish and blinded by anger, they refused to let them get hurt, but Chekov broke from the group first.

            “Cossacks! Filthy Klingon murderer!” He ran at Kang, and even Kirk tried to stop him, but he broke away. Two Klingons grabbed Chekov and shoved him to the ground, but the Russian glared at them, anger flaring up into flames of emotion. “You killed my brother, Piotr! The Archanis IV research outpost, a hundred peaceful people massacred! Just like you did here! My brother…You killed my brother!”

            (Y/N) blinked in surprise, stepping back from the fire of his anger. They had never seen such intense fury, and the knowledge that Chekov had been hiding such a fact was unexpected.

            “So you volunteer to join him,” said Kang coldly. “That is loyalty.”

            Another Klingon pressed a device to Chekov’s cheek, and the Starfleet officer screamed in agony as it buzzed. (Y/N) and Kirk pulled against the Klingons holding them back, unable to just stand there and listen to Chekov’s cries.

            “Stop the torture!” cried Kirk, and through the haze of anger whirling around them all, worry broke through, stronger than anything else. Kirk wanted his friends safe and well. That was more important than his anger.

            Satisfied, Kang nodded to his officer, and the Klingon released Chekov.

            “Jim, you can’t hand over the Enterprise,” said Bones urgently.

            “Help Chekov,” ordered Kirk, not responding to the comment.

            “Don’t plan any tricks, Kirk,” warned Kang. “I will kill one hundred hostages at the first sign of treachery.”

            “I’ll beam you aboard the Enterprise,” said Kirk. “Once there—no tricks.”

            Kang searched his face for evidence of lies before nodding, and his officers let go of Kirk’s arms. Kang handed the communicator over, and Kirk sullenly flipped it open.

            “Captain, you can’t,” said Chekov. “Don’t let these animals have the ship.” Beside him, Bones kept the Klingons away as he checked his state.

            “Animals?” Kang scoffed. “Your Captain crawls like one. A Klingon would never have surrendered. Order everybody in this area to be transported up.” He nodded to his people. “All weapons on him.”

            “Kirk to Enterprise,” said Kirk. “Mr. Spock.”

            “Here, Captain,” said Spock.

            “Mr. Spock, we have guests,” said Kirk distastefully. “Adjust transporter for wider field. Beam up everyone in the target area.” He lowered the communicator and subtly pressed a button to alert Spock to the dangerous situation.

            “Understood, Captain,” said Spock. He would handle everything. (And be extra careful since (Y/N) was on the planet surface and in danger as well).

            The group on the planet straightened, and a few seconds later, the transporter beam caught them, and they dematerialized.

l

            The Starfleet officers rematerialized in the Transporter Room first.

            “Call Security, on the double,” said Kirk instantly to Scotty while Spock walked into the room, his eyes instantly on (Y/N) to check on them.

            (Y/N) nodded to him to show they were alright, and he redirected to his job.

            “Good work, Spock,” said Kirk.

            “What happened?” asked Bones in confusion.

            “The landing party is intact, Doctor. All others are suspended in transit,” said Spock.

            “Who are the guests, by the way?” asked Scotty.

            “Klingons,” said (Y/N).

            “In transit?” Scotty’s eyes widened.

            “Well, they’re right in there,” said Kirk. “Johnson?”

            The security officer nodded. “Security men on the way, sir.”

            “Captain, leave them where they are—non-existence,” argued Chekov. “That’s so many less Klingon monsters in the galaxy.”

            (Y/N) blinked. Leaving the Klingons’ presence hadn’t abated the anger within the group. It was as present as ever.

            Before anyone could respond, Johnson’s reinforcements arrived with phasers at the ready.

            “Bring them in,” said Kirk to Scotty.

            He obeyed, and the bodies of the Klingons rematerialized. Before they had a chance to attack, the security officers ran up and grabbed their weapons, leaving the Klingons defenseless.

            “Move ‘em out. Move,” said the officers, ushering the Klingons away.

            “Liar!” spat Kang, glaring at Kirk.

            “I said no tricks after we reach the ship,” retorted Kirk. “You’re a prisoner of the Federation of Planets—against which you may or may not be guilty have committed an act of war.”

            “There are still survivors aboard my ship,” said Kang.

            “Captain, we’ve not been able to get through to Starfleet Command,” interjected Scotty. “All subspace frequencies have been blocked, and there’s too much radiation coming from that Klingon ship. It’s a hazard to the vicinity.”

            “Prepare to destruct,” said Kirk.

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they shared a look with Spock. That was a sudden decision that could prompt war.

            “Captain, perhaps you’d like to consider the people still aboard?” said (Y/N).

            “Yes, of course,” said Kirk, shaking his head like (Y/N) had shaken him from his mind. “Start beaming them over beforehand.”

            (Y/N) relaxed. So at least Kirk still had half a mind.

            “First group from the Klingon vessel, Captain,” said Spock. They materialized, and security officers escorted them out. One, however, quickly moved to Kang’s side.

            Kang nodded to the woman. “My wife and Science Officer, Mara.”

            “Kang, what has happened?” questioned Mara.

            “More Federation treachery,” he snapped. “We are prisoners.”

            “What will they do to us?” asked Mara, eyeing them suspiciously. “I have heard of their atrocities. They will torture us for our scientific and military information.”

            “We will not harm you,” said (Y/N). Unlike most of the speakers, they still had a calm, level voice. They nodded to the security officers. “They are taking you to a crew lounge with a synthesizer for food. You will be treated well.”

            (Y/N) wouldn’t harm people for no reason, and they were there to keep diplomatic relationships as non-tense as possible (which was failing horribly at the moment). They wouldn’t send the Klingons to be harmed. Not when they suspected something strange was going on, some sort of misunderstanding between both parties.

            “Tch.” Kang glared, but Mara tilted her head and legitimately considered (Y/N)’s words. Then, the security officers pushed them out of the room, and the Starfleet officers were left alone.

            “Secure from Red Alert,” said Kirk as they headed out themselves. “But maintain general quarters. Scan this sector for other ships. Run a full check on the colony. I want this thing nailed down fast.”

            “We know what happened!” snapped Chekov with red-hot anger. “That distress call.”

            Spock, cutting of Chekov’s rage, spoke. “At the moment we received the distress call from the colony on Beta XII-A, the Klingons were too far distant to have been the attackers. Moreover, they were apparently also attracted by a distress call.”

            (Y/N) gazed fondly at Spock. At least someone here still had their head on their shoulders instead of being angry all the time and was noticing something unusual was happening.

            “Lies,” said Chekov as they stepped into the elevator. “They want to start a war by pretending that we did.”

            “Chekov may be right,” said Bones. “The Klingons claim to have honored the truce, but there have been incidents, raids on our outposts.

            Not Bones, too, thought (Y/N), frowning as the doctor’s irritation turned to a warm haze, a few pushes from anger.

            “No proof that the Klingons committed it,” said Kirk.

            (Y/N) nodded. They needed to keep their head on properly and understand that nothing was certain here. “Yes. We cannot risk jumping to conclusions without proof.”

            “What proof do we need?” muttered Bones. “We know what a Klingon is.” The elevator doors opened, and he got off at his floor.

            After an awkward pause, Spock spoke again. “Our log tapes will indicate our innocence in the present situation.”

            “Unfortunately, there’s no guarantee that they’ll be believed,” sighed (Y/N). The doors opened to the Bridge, and they walked out.

            “Report, Sulu,” said Kirk.

            “Still no contact from Starfleet Command, sir,” replied Sulu. “Outside communications blanketed.”

            “Keep trying. We’ve got a diplomatic tiger by the tail,” said Kirk.

            “Transporter Room to Bridge,” said Scotty over the comms. “Klingon ship is vacated, sir.”

            “Very good, Scotty. Mr. Sulu?” said Kirk.

            “Forward phasers locked and ready to fire, sir,” said Sulu.

            “Fire phaser,” commanded Kirk.

            Sulu fired, and the phasers destroyed the remains of the Klingon ship.

            “Sensor sweeps reveal no other ships within range, Captain,” reported Spock.

            “Lieutenant (L/N)?” asked Kirk.

            “Still no contact with Starfleet Command,” said (Y/N), scanning the radio frequencies.

            “Mr. Sulu, change course to 17 mark 4, warp factor 3,” said Kirk.

            "Warp factor 3, sir,” confirmed Sulu as the Enterprise began moving.

            (Y/N) frowned as they kept trying to contact Starfleet. Even though the radiation interference was gone, they weren’t getting a response. “Captain,” they called, and Kirk turned around in his seat. “This doesn’t make any sense. Carriers are completely normal, and the channels are open, but there’s still no outside contact. I have no explanation for it.”

            “Could the Klingons be doing something?” asked Kirk.

            (Y/N) went to shake their head, but the Bridge shook suddenly and cut off the conversation. Spock reached out to steady (Y/N) at the same moment they reached out to him.

            “Sulu?” called Kirk, holding onto his seat as the Enterprise swerved.

            “Change of course. Accelerating,” reported Sulu. “Helm dead. Auxiliary navigation dead.”

            “Override,” said Kirk, reaching out to the controls. Nothing changed.

            “Nothing responds, Captain,” said Sulu.

            “Scotty, stop all engines!” called Kirk.

            “I would if I could, sir,” said Scotty. “But the controls have gone crazy. Something’s taking over. The engines have gone to warp 9! By themselves!”

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they held onto Spock’s arm a little tighter.

            “New course?” questioned Kirk.

            “902 mark 5,” said Sulu.

            (Y/N) and Spock’s heads snapped to one another. That would take them out of the galaxy.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

[malka-lisitsa]

Verse: Fallout

Katherine Pierce, originally Katerina Petrova, was victim to a secret pre-war operation in which foreigners were abducted and taken to labs for testing the government didn't want to do on it's own people.

The project's purpose was to tamper with DNA and attempt to create the apex of super human in order to make them more durable. To up the survivability rate of the coming war.

A lot of the subjects did not survive the cruel tests, and most of them died horrifically. Only a handful survived, but before testing could be completed the bombs dropped. The test subjects were put in cryo and remained there until 200 years later the vault overseer was instructed by an 'unknown power' to destroy the remaining test subjects and any proof/research regarding the project.

Unfortunately for this particular set of executioners, curiosity got the best of one of them. Stating how "normal" Katerina looked compared to the others they made a bet to see if she had something wrong with the way she spoke or if she was completely brain dead- so they opened her cryo chamber only to find she was nothing they were prepared for.

In the blink of an eye she tore through all five of the armed men and managed to escape the vault in under five minutes. Now she roams the waste land under the name Katherine Pierce. She goes where she wants do she does what she wants to. Mostly she's taken to a hired assassin. Taking a HEFTY fee of caps for the guarantee your job will get done. Which means there are plenty out there who would rather see her dead, and she is hunted by several factions such as the NCR and the Brotherhood Of Steel. Because of this She's not easy to get in contact with, rumor has it only three people alive know how to get to her, and they wouldn't out her for anything.

TEST SUBJECT STATS

Subject: 1864 "Katerina Petrova"

Enhancements:

incredibly RAD resistant almost completely unbothered unless exposed to high quantities for several days- radiation sickness presents the same.

enhanced strength, she can pick up a Bramin and chuck it if she wants to.

enhanced speed, faster than a bullet- her endurance depends on how well fed she is

enhanced healing, if resting she will heal at accelerated rates

enhanced low light visibility

Negative side effects:

Must drink blood to maintain life and effectiveness of enhancements

such causes cravings that can lead to violent episodes in the subject

sensitive to bright lighting both in vision and skin- if left exposed to the sun for too long she burns incredibly badly.

wood seems to stop her rapid healing abilities- cause unknown

If bitten by a glowing one, her flesh seems to rapidly start to decay- there is a compound in their saliva that reacts negatively with her blood- the only cure is nightstalker blood mixed with a shit load of radaway

Neutral traits:

has developed a pair of retractable fangs- clearly for ease of access to the blood she now requires

Eyes turn dark red and sport darkened veins under the skin when shes angered, making a threat display, or has her hunger triggered.

Doctors notes:

"Patient is irritable, unsure if symptom or personality."

Unfortunately her file was destroyed with the rest so a lot of this information is unknown even to her, and has been a learning experience for everyone involved.

[ssoupcup]

explaining in unnecessary detail; my current oc brainrot story

this is purely for my enjoyment only. i also haven't proofread this and some of this i came up with whilst writing so erm yeah. also if u do read this warning for mention of murder

HARPA - Historical Artefacts Recovery and Preservation Agency

A government department responsible for the research into past events and objects.

The general idea is that in this universe, time travel is possible. It is heavily monitored by the government, but also utilised.

This department is responsible for travelling back to time periods and either retrieving historical artefacts to bring them into the present day for analysis and conservation, or for observation of historical events to fill any gaps in knowledge.

The department is incredibly hard to become involved with due to how if anything goes wrong it can cause significant problems for the current day, and due to the risks involved which I will detail in a moment.

Sections within this department

-Time Travel

-Artefact and document conservation

-Researchers

-Management

-Tech

-Publication

-Library and archive services

-Emergency

Each section is involved within the process, although it is generally hoped that the emergency workers are not needed.

The process generally goes as such:

-A task is assigned by management or a specific request is put in, etc. This is passed on to the time travel department and the task is assigned to either an individual, or group, depending on which is better for the scenario.

-The time travel department then travels to the specific point in time to complete the work, whether that be retrieving an artefact, or observing an event or such.

-Once back in the present day, the artefact is immediately taken to conservation, and if the task was to observe, the worker immediately recounts the details to the researchers. Oftentimes for an observation based task, multiple people will be sent in order to ensure all possible pieces of information are gathered.

-The artefact/document is preserved and analysed by the conservation department, and the observational work is written up into an account whilst being matched to any other extant sources of the event or concept.

-This research or report is then further researched, discussed with other workers, academics, historians and such, and is then passed through to management. From here, any more needed information is gathered, then once that is collected or if nothing else is needed, the research is prepared for publication and the artefact is photographed or replicated, then stored away in archives in the building, before potentially being transported to other archives across the country, or to museums for storage and educational display.

Whew okay that is the general process. Now we gotta get into some of the very odd rules which are associated with this work. Once you get past the strict background checks, all the levels of high education, testing and such, and finally the interview, those working in the time section must stick to some oddly specific rules.

-Not a single thing other than the object for retrieval may be touched. This can even extend to being written up for accidentally kicking a stone or becoming involved in a conversation with someone whilst on the mission. This is largely due to the potential butterfly effect, as it is unknown how large of an impact these tiny events could have.

-You are not allowed to speak of the experience until it is all published. This is to prevent the spread of misinformation, misinterpretation, human bias and information becoming available to the public before it has been sorted through and heavily researched and checked.

-Nobody may work in this department for longer than one year.

This last rule is enforced due to a number of circumstances. Firstly, working within the time travel section has negative effects on the health long term, such as an increased mortality rate, higher exposure to radiation, and other illness. Additionally, it is also rumoured that it can have an effect on people mentally due to the other biological effects. This is not confirmed by anyone, especially not the managers and such, but the rumours cite something known as the 'coffee cup incident' - a rather euphemistic name for a supposed incident which occurred after an individual worked in the time travel department for too long. It is alleged that they experienced significant health issues, and became mentally disturbed as side effect of the time travelling, which ended in them grabbing a coffee cup in one of the offices after a task, and bashing another workers skull in with it, killing them.

This is simply a rumour of course. No evidence has ever been found which indicates such an incident happening. There are many reasons as to why the 1st floor office was closed from the 14th to the 29th of January, 2009, and rest assured murder was not one of them.

That being said, talk of this incident is not tolerated at HARPA, and all employees are expected to realise that this is in fact merely a rumour. Besides, if any mention of this came out to the public, it would cause a great many issues. They hardly appreciate the work done at the government division anyway, and if word of such an incident got out - well, it would only provide more reason for them to dislike the idea of it.

okay and now onto my bastard of an oc who works here lmao. but quickly in case the idea hasn't been conveyed properly by my rambling, this is basically a synopsis of everything.

There is a government division which deals with time travel. The idea is to fill in gaps of out knowledge of history in order to gain a better understanding of the past, for use of historians and other similar people. This is not generally appreciated by the general public for a number of reasons;

-the technology itself has been said to be unstable. it creates high amounts of radiation and with the known effects on physical health and rumoured effects on mental health, it is understandable as to why some may be fearful over the risks.

-to further this, whilst it has never been confirmed, supposedly anomalies in reality have been created. it is unclear as to what these anomalies entail, however a number of odd occurrences have been reported around the area since the division was created. these are generally brushed off by the organisation.

-general fears around time travel. the public fears that if the wrong person got a hold of the technology, they could use it with malicious intent and mess with timelines, events and such or attempt to rewrite history.

Despite these honestly very reasonable fears, a lot of cover ups are done, and a lot of attempts at alleviating fears are made. Why does the government allow this with all of these risks you may ask? Money. While this sector is expensive to run, it also generates a lot of income. Knowledge is a very valuable thing and they can generate a lot of income from sponsoring the research, renting out documents artefacts for display, replication or further study, and such. (yes ik there are logistical problems with this, i am going to come up with ways to make this work lmao.)

anyway back to my oc in this. i suppose all of the workers are my ocs but this particular one who would be the main character in it.

she is called vallie and works in the time travel department. and she has done for the past 3 years. this is somehow despite the rule of only one year. why is she doing this? money. it is INCREDIBLY lucrative. and unfortunately, she is very efficient at her job. she is able to get the artefacts retrieved very quickly, and all of her observational tasks rarely run into any issues and tend to cover all needed details. that and her rather favourable connections with management have allowed her to continue working, despite the possible health detriments. she is also a fucking ASSHOLE. she wasn't too bad whilst she was working in the library, but once she was promoted and allowed to work within time travel, she became ten times more insufferable, annoying and rude to everyone.

i do have a general idea of a story this would follow. it would end up being some mildly horrifying science fiction kind of stuff which of course ends in disaster. i do obviously need to develop it further but this is most of what i have come up with in the last week. some of the ideas i had for a while and i had the idea of the government sponsored time traveller oc for a while, but wahoo im finally developing it. anyway this was really in to write. im probably gonna develop this a bit more over time and just go a tiny little bit mental. who knows.

[ode-of-odr-archive]

FEV and Ras

I mentioned a while ago, but thanks a fantastic convo with @that-kid-from-vault-101 there is going to be an adjustment to Ras’ Fallout backstory. This will make some of the amazing feats Ras has pulled off make way more sense, but also leans into his impeccable strength and endurance, and ability to survive purging methods without dying (I.E. going cold turkey on drugs when it likely would have killed him.) Also his immunity to radiation. 

This big change is Ras’ family line is actually from a Vault in the area where they were doing testing with another strain of the FEV, however while it didn’t appear to work. The scientists became the cult Ras ended up being sold to: Odin’s Children. At some point the scientist realized the FEV did work, but took a delayed reaction, showing itself further down the line in various families. So this cult decided they could hunt down these children and use them to be the super soldiers they were meant to be and become a sort of new world order.

Signs the FEV was active and working in a subject, is despite the mother’s health the child is born large and healthy (Ras was born to a chem addled mother, who was deeply under weight, yet came out 10 lbs and very healthy). They are large, and almost always standing over most others. Hitting the fix foot mark easily, and hit growth spurts early. Such as Ras. They mature quicker. Ras was effectively raising his little sister at age 6 not because of survival reasons but because his brain was more developed for problem solving and handling things. This is why he can move between multiple languages with ease, and if properly taught could swiftly learn various things.  Ras’ simpleness is because they wanted him to stay stupid.

Basically Ras is a wasteland Captain America. He is peak human everything, plus a little extra such as being immune to radiation. However, he did still get the heightened aggression and is why his temper flares like it does. However, not to the degree former strands produced. 

So when people joke he’s a pink super mutant; they ain’t wrong. 

Another thing thanks to this convo is Ras as what is called “immortal cells” Ras’ cells don’t die after splitting so many times. Meaning his DNA can be used over and over for testing. This could be used to jump start finding vaccines, cures or, better perfecting the  FEV that is active inside him. 

Which, while Ras doesn’t know it, means other high tech groups he isn’t aware of are aware of him, and seeking him out. Namely The Institute as they also want him for synth purposes.