#motorized neck joint

[sw5w]

Obi-Wan Attacks

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:05:49

[sopranoentravesti]

Also would like to add the difference between tics and stereotypies

its disability awareness month so lets get fuckin real about tourettes and tic disorders bc some people STILL don’t get it 

Dispelling some myths

NO you can’t ‘catch tics’ from watching tiktok videos.

NO anxiety, OCD, ADHD, and Autism do not cause tics, HOWEVER, they are extremely common in people with TS/tic disorders and up to 90% have them as comorbidities.

NO ticcing in your sleep is not a sign of epilepsy.

NO CBD/THC are not magical cures.

NO not everyone with tics has tourettes. Tic disorders are there own seperate diagnoses from tourettes and many other neurologic disorders (and things like degenerative diseases, brain injuries, and enviromental toxin exposure) have tics or tic-like movements. 

and finally 

PEOPLE WITH TICS DO NOT TIC 24/7

FAQS

Do you tic during sex????!?!?!

First- stop asking strangers this, you’re CREEPY. Second, normally no, tics tend to lessen while ‘distracted’. 

Isn’t Tourettes just swearing? 

Nope! It includes motor movements, other vocalizations, many comorbid mental health disorders, and phenomenon like tic attacks and uncomfortable urges before tics. Coprolalia and copropraxia (the swearing and inappropriate gestures) actually only appear in ~10% of TS patients. 

Do tics hurt? 

Technically, the sensation of ticcing is just uncomfortable. However if the ticcing invovles self-hitting or anything that would normally be considered self-injurious, or the tic repeatedly happens and strains a muscle, then yes, it hurts.

Can I laugh?

This depends on the person. Some people are okay with it at anytime, others only if they’re laughing first, and for me- its okay as long as its not a tic where I’m hurting myself or something and othertimes, I want my tics ignored completely no matter how ‘funny’. 

Is there a cure?

No. There are therapies and medications to help manage symptoms but there is no one ‘cure’ for tic disorders or tourettes syndrome. 

And here are some of my other posts on Tics/TS terminology/Need-to-Knows:

Basic Terminology

What Are Motor Tics?

Phenomenon in TS

More Facts about Tics/TS

[1800titz]

IF YOU THINK I'M PRETTY | dad's best friend

Up close, he’s a pastiche of a daydream. The kind of face that sticks and lingers. Aged like a fine liquor. The turbid guitar riff you hear from the bathroom. The devil’s hour unspooling across your shoulders when you chase the moon with your feet; the sin you wadded up into a piece of paper to tuck into the cigarette case. Sex. A sandpaper kiss. The scent of gunsmoke. Motor oil across knuckles.

preview

“I know,” you tell him, blinking. “I know who you are.”

He blinks back at you. Amused. “Do you?”

(No. Undeniably, no.)

You clear your throat when he lets your hand go. “Enough. So. Are you in the… like, special forces, then?”

His eyes linger on you for a little longer. He smiles. Leans in a little closer— you can’t help the way the peach fuzz on the scruff of your neck stands when his breath wades into your hair, against your ear. Can’t help the electricity that rides across your synapses. 

“That’s need-to-know.”

(On WeHeartIt, an older man is calligraphy soused in the rose-tinted lens of Valencia. This whole scandalous endeavor of sleeping with an older man— luxuriant in lyrics and picsart stickers. Pinterest boards. Sleep with your professor; that’s a Melanie song— silver fox is in like bows, and leopard print, and the awkward twee of teenagehood making rebirth.)

You fan the heat that congeals you off with laughter that nearly sounds nervous. Clear your throat again. Take a drink that burns down the back of your throat. Cross your legs a little tighter.

“Right. Secrets.”

(A girl on TikTok came onto your feed discussing how she got into being a sugar baby, what websites to use, how to talk to them— it reminds you of the link your friend sent you last month on the Sprinkle Sprinkle lady; look at her, she knows what she’s doing!)

He hums. The kind of rumble that stems from his chest. With the dearth, you nearly feel it in your bones, rattling the junctures of your joints. This— you’re imagining it. You swallow. 

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you, I reckon,” Harry says. Jokes. It’s wry. Acidic. The kind of dryness you expect off a man of his stature. 

(You always thought it was a little sick. Gross. Lolita-steeped. The out-of-touch Electra pillared on the foundation of a taboo— dad looked the other way in disinterest and tucked his affections behind the cage bars of his bones, so now I try to pick at the lock on yours with my thumb.

Only, you have a wonderful relationship with your father, and the man leaning into you from the corner of the bar— letting his eyes roll across your body and your stupid, muzzy face, limned in shadows off the shoddy bar lightning— is not like that at all.)

He blinks. The eye contact is unrelenting. Almost stifling. You nearly choke on your own spit when the corner of his mouth ticks and he tacks on, “...Wouldn’t want to put down a pretty thing like you.”

(Because Harry is older like secrets and cicatrix. Like a gun in the drawer of a nightstand with a bible. The smoke that lingers off a bonfire. The leaden maelstrom on the horizon of the shore, where the waves are still placidly lapping.  

Riding on that hairline fracture of just enough stay away and come a little closer. Skirting the border, where the head of a palisade overlooks the rift of a bad decision.)

[twipsai]

omega and silver fic is up! ill put the full thing under the cut yayyy

~

Days and weeks and months melted together, years going by as his body rusted and decayed, warping itself beyond repair as fewer and fewer people dared to enter the Flame Core, fewer caring to check in on them.

He wasn’t conscious for a large portion of it. How could he be? Why would he be? Any reason to stay present was gone.

So he sat. He waited. For what, he wasn’t sure.

…

And then.

And then one day.

One day, something new. The feeling of something stirring against his chest awoke him from a multi-decade slumber. It took minutes, maybe hours, for all of his systems to come back online. The ones remaining, anyway. Everything hit him like bullets— two lifeforms detected, tactile input detected, loss of ammunition, left shoulder joint disconnected, motor functions offline…

Everything buzzed faintly.

Finally, he could see again.

He shifted his cameras down to see…

“CHILD.”

The kid’s eyes flew open as he stumbled backwards from being curled up against his side. A scream erupted from the child’s body. Analysis showed he was a hedgehog, about six, not matching anyone stored within his database.

Though, there weren’t many people around who did, anymore.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Omega questioned, voice echoing unpleasantly against the cavern’s walls.

The child didn’t answer, his breathing picking up speed as his hands started to tremble. He fell to his knees, eyes wide and unblinkingly staring at Omega.

“I BELIEVE I MAY HAVE FRIGHTENED YOU. THIS WAS NOT MY INTENTION.”

It looked like the child couldn’t breathe, now, as if he was being strangled by an invisible force. He grasped a hand around his neck while tears rolled down his cheeks.

Somewhere in his data storage, something like a memory surfaced. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

At some point, someone he knew had something like this happen to them.

“INITIATING ‘COMFORT’ PROTOCOL.”

Through old, crackling speakers, a song started to play. Even with the terrible audio crunching, the piano still rang out as soft as ever. Slow notes drawled on. The lifeform behind him shifted. The child took about 3.49 seconds to visually indicate he had heard the music. His ears perked up and his terrified eyes softened. Over the course of six minutes and twenty-three seconds, the child’s heart rate decreased from 110 beats per minute to 100.

The first thing that tiny child squeaked out was, “Can you move?”

Omega responded after a moment to check. “NO.”

The child then slowly stood, inching forward on trembling legs to sit closer to the music. He leaned an ear to Omega’s chest where the sound crackled out from. He was way too warm for a tiny child, and if he wasn’t showing no other symptoms, Omega would have thought he was sick.

As the song steadily reached its conclusion, the child seemed about as relaxed as he was going to get.

“What is this?” he asked.

“GYMNOPEDIE NO. 1.”

The child looked up and squinted his eyes, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“IT’S A VERY OLD SONG FROM AN ESTIMATED 400 YEARS AGO.”

“A song? What’s a song?”

Omega was never very good at explaining the more… human aspects of life. The alive parts.

Others would be better suited to explain this.

He knew many that could’ve.

“A SONG IS TYPICALLY A COLLECTION OF NOTES PLAYED IN SUCCESSION TO CREATE A MELODY. WHY WERE YOU SLEEPING ON ME, CHILD?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I DO NOT CARE. YOU HAVE NOT ANSWERED MY QUESTION.”

The child’s grey quills flared out even more than they already had, and he fidgeted with the bandages around his wrists. “Your body is cold. It’s very warm here. I was just trying to cool off…”

“WHAT IS YOUR NAME?”

“I think it’s Silver.”

“YOU ARE NOT SURE?”

“No.”

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

“I’m trying to get to Crisis City.”

That was an unfamiliar location. Omega checked his residual memory, and cross referenced it with previous data he had archived. “THE RUINS OF SOLEANNA.”

“Um. Maybe?”

“THE HEART OF IBLIS. INQUIRY: WHY IS A TINY MEATBAG LIKE YOU MARCHING TO YOUR CERTAIN DEATH?”

Silver sat down in the place where his left arm should have been, under exposed wires sparking threateningly. This close, Omega could see the scabs on his knees, the blood soaking through the messily-wrapped bandages, the cuts littering his arms and legs, his calloused hands and feet— he could see the determination in his eyes as he folded his hands in his lap and furrowed his brows. “I'm going to defeat Iblis.”

If Omega could laugh, he would. “DOES NOT COMPUTE. SILVER THE HEDGEHOG: SMALL, MORTAL, POWERLESS. IBLIS: GIANT, IMMORTAL, POWERFUL. I ASK AGAIN; WHY IS A TINY MEATBAG LIKE YOU MARCHING TO YOUR DEATH?”

“Because I have to! I have powers no one else has, if there's something I can do, then I wanna help!”

“FURTHER DATA NEEDED. WHAT POWERS DO YOU POSSESS, CHILD?”

“Um, someone told me its called psy– psycho— um—”

“PSYCHOKINESIS.”

“Yes! Psychokinesis!”

There was no telling how powerful the child actually was. Omega knew better than to underestimate children at this point, when three had accompanied him on adventure after adventure before the flames had consumed the world.

They were children. Most of his companions were. 

His chest suddenly felt strange. Felt. He tried to run a diagnosis on his power core, only to find that it was still destroyed. Nothing had changed about his state. What made that feeling?

“Excuse me, uh… sir?”

“OMEGA.”

“Huh?”

“THAT IS MY NAME. E-123 OMEGA.”

“Oh. Well, your eyes are glowing.”

Strange. Someone once said that he was very expressive— he thought it was what she called “sarcasm”, but then went on to explain all the little things she noticed about him, and how he reacts to things. It seemed that, even with almost all of his functions offline, he was still finding ways to express himself.

“Omega?”

“WHAT.”

Silver looked up at him shyly. “Can I lean on you again? It’s very hot in here, and you’re very cool…”

“I LACK THE PROPER MOTOR FUNCTION TO STOP YOU.”

“That’s why I asked.”

A memory surfaced. Covered in rust and cobwebs and ash.

A very long time ago, he was carrying someone gently, as gently as he could. This person was tired— he had been through a lot that week. He could barely stand. So he carried him to his room quietly, trying his best not to tear the blankets he used to tuck him in. He must not have done a very good job at being quiet, because he woke up to a degree.

“Omega,” he mumbled, eyes still half-closed. “Don’t… don’t let anyone do anything to you. Even though you’re… you’re a robot… you should get to be your own person…”

He quietly took a step back. 

“YOUR MUMBLING IS INCOHERENT,” Omega replied. “TELL ME TOMORROW; I WILL STILL BE HERE.”

And he turned.

And left.

Silver, for one reason or another, was dragging up memories that he thought had been trapped in old storage. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t had a conversation with another person in over a hundred years. Maybe the long stretches of silence had a way of turning one into a poet.

“YES,” Omega finally replied, “YOU MAY LEAN ON ME.”

Silver crawled over his lap, smushing himself in between Omega’s in-tact arm and torso, forehead leaning against his upper arm. If Omega thought the child would listen, he would warn him about getting tetanus from his rusted fingers.

“I have a question now. Is that okay?”

“YES.”

“How old are you?”

“73,784.8 DAYS HAVE PASSED SINCE MY CREATION.”

“Uhhh… that’s a lot…”

Eggman didn’t program conversion to weeks, months, and years into his internal clock. Eventually it would stop counting up when it hit 999,999.999 days. It also meant that he had to mentally convert it himself. “APPROXIMATELY 200 YEARS.”

“Oh.”

…

The child looked up at him with impossibly large eyes.

“Oh! Were you around before Iblis was, Omega?!”

“YES—”

“Can you tell me about it?! Please! I’ve heard stories but— but not from someone who was there! You gotta tell me!”

Much to his dismay, Omega was finding this child amusing. And familiar. “WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW?”

“Um, um…” When he was in thought, Silver fidgeted with his poncho’s hem. “Tell me about the sky!”

“...THE SKY?”

“Yes!”

Omega hadn’t been outside for most of his lifespan— he had spent it in the Flame Core. But he did remember that— “IT WAS GIANT.”

A massive expanse that blanketed the entire earth. A constant in a chaotic life. No matter where you went, the sky followed.

“IT WOULD CHANGE COLOR. MANY COMPARED IT TO A PAINTING.”

The child looked up at him with wonder in his eyes, absorbing every syllable.

“IT WAS THE ONE THING IN LIFE THAT REMAINED.”

Absolute awe was written on Silver’s face. 

Omega could make a well-informed guess of what awaited him outside the cavern if he was ever fixed.

“Can you tell me about the people?”

“YOU ASK MANY QUESTIONS.”

“I haven’t gotten this many answers before.”

They were his companions. Teammates. Friends, though, that was pushing it a little, as one of them would say. After so long to think about it, to put his feelings into words, he came to the conclusion that he must have cared about them. They were almost all gone, now. Almost. But he could remember watching them from afar, completely captivated by how they moved. It was all just play to most of them. They would train against each other, race across continents, get takeout in the middle of a mission… Everything was just another day. They laughed in the face of danger. They stood tall. They cared.

Oh, how they cared.

“I BELIEVE THEY WERE NOT VERY DIFFERENT FROM THE PEOPLE OF THIS TIME.”

“No?”

“NO. THEY WERE ALL JUST PEOPLE. MUNDANE.”

Silver knitted his brows together in thought, then pointed past where Omega’s cameras could reach, behind the two of them. “Was he there?”

But he knew.

He knew.

Knew who he was pointing to.

“YES.”

“What’s his name?”

“SHADOW.”

“Why is he trapped in there?”

While Omega couldn’t see him in his position, he knew exactly how Shadow looked. Arms up and cuffed with giant metal rings, attached to a hexagonal cage that stretched over him in a diamond shape, glowing pink and white. The image was committed to his long-term memory.

Perhaps it was better he couldn’t turn to see.

“HUMANITY THOUGHT HE WAS THE CAUSE OF THE FLAMES OF DISASTER.”

Silver stood and walked behind him. The tingle of apprehensiveness of having his back turned to a sentient being was duller than he remembered. “Was he?”

“NO,” he could say for certain. “NO, HE WASN��T.”

“Then why did they do this to him?”

He could remember his claw gripping Shadow’s neck as he begged and pleaded for mercy. He remembered his body acting without his command as he unfeelingly attacked him. He remembered Shadow going limp on the floor, almost dead. He remembered watching as people crowded around him and quickly put him into stasis.

He remembered standing with him,

for centuries.

Maybe as an apology. Maybe because it was what he was built to do.

He remembered.

“HUMANITY FEARS WHAT THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND, CHILD.”

Quietly, Silver walked back to Omega’s side, leaning on him once again, and a little more curled up in his lap than he was before. “I know,” he said. “I know that.” 

Of course he did. Omega could have guessed that, especially in this world; this world that was dominated by terror. After all, Silver was here, alone, at six years old. Whatever reason he had for that couldn't be a pleasant one.

“YOU REMIND ME OF THE PEOPLE I FOUGHT ALONGSIDE BACK THEN.”

“Before Iblis?”

“YES.”

“I do?”

“YOU ARE MARCHING TO FACE IMPOSSIBLE ODDS. YET YOU REMAIN OPTIMISTIC. YOU STRIVE TO PROTECT A BROKEN WORLD THAT HURT YOU.”

Silver fidgeted with the hem of his poncho. His markings pulsed with light. “Even if the whole world was against me,” he whispered, “I'd still protect it.”

“I SEE. INQUIRY;”

“Mhm?”

“HOW CAN YOU FIGHT WHEN YOU KNOW YOU CAN'T WIN?”

For a long time, Silver stayed quiet.

He spoke slowly. “As long as I don't give up… there's hope.”

How optimistic. How cruel, for a child to say those words with a trembling voice. If Omega could, he'd weep. 

Then, he returned to his excited demeanor. “Hey, you know what? I could probably get Shadow out of there!”

“YOU COULD NOT.”

“I could try! If I could wake your friend up, then maybe—”

“CHILD.”

He stayed quiet.

“I MADE A VOW TO PROTECT THOSE I HELD DEAR.” He flickered some of the lights on his body on and off. “I BROKE THAT VOW ONCE. NOW, I WILL REMAIN HERE, BY HIS SIDE, UNTIL I AM GONE.”

Silver was practically curled up in his lap, forehead rested on his chest. His body temperature had dropped significantly since he had woken up. “Okay, then. Hey, I have another question.”

“ASK IT.”

“Can you make that ‘song’ again?”

How optimistic.

How cruel.

“YES. I CAN.”

The piano hummed through his broken speakers. It made ear-splitting popping noises occasionally, but Silver didn't seem to mind. He shifted so his ear was right above Omega’s internal speaker.

His companions would have liked Silver. It was obvious— maybe even Shadow would have. But they were separated by eons.

Omega only hoped the next time they met, it was for a kinder reason.

‘Hoped’...

Silver must have been rubbing off on him. 

[siriusblack-the-third]

marauders aesthetic: dark academia

sirius: chin length silky hair in a shag cut. fingers stained with motor oil and black ink. drives everyone crazy with the bold black eyeliner he gets marlene to teach him. twirls his wand and quills between his fingers. old leather jackets thrown over messily buttoned shirts. tie hanging untied around his neck. reads any book he can get his hands on. always has a peppermint on his person. if you're close enough to get a sniff, he smells of damp grass, leather, parchment and mint. chess comes as easy as breathing to him. can't sleep at night, so he climbs out the window and sits on the top of gryffindor tower to stare at the stars. french is his first language, and he speaks italian, greek and latin. only has to study occasionally for herbology. a properly made macchiato, always. half smirks and cocky grins, and grey eyes that spark with mischief. cruel streak a mile wide, so he hates getting angry. a little bit of a slob (it drives james mad). won the under 19 europe duelling tournament at age fourteen. god tier poker face. climbs into james' bed after particularly terrifying nightmares. hums french songs to him to calm himself down. david bowie, led zeppelin, ac/dc, sex pistols. immense raw power that sizzles under his skin and smells like lightning storms. his magic is visible in his veins when he gets emotional. silver eyes, sharp glare, wicked words, even crueler spells. mastermind behind more than half of their pranks. when he laughs, he sounds like the pureblood he is; all refined and perfect. at six feet four inches, he's the tallest of the marauders. loves giving james shit for being shorter than him. plays the violin, and composes sometimes. it reminds him of the nights he locked himself and regulus into the music room at home and played till his fingers bled. perfect waltz, perfect posture, perfect table manners and perfect posh accent.

.

remus: curly golden brown hair in messy undercuts, lanky body and lean muscles. five foot nine inches and hates it. leaves when a person lights up a cigarette; says the smell is overwhelming on his senses. always has a cup of black coffee with him, but never drinks it. comfy jumpers, pressed trousers, perfect uniform, prefect badge pinned to the front. piercings— tongue, ears, nose and lip. charms the tongue piercing to taste like chocolate. hates reading, but does read a few of the books that james recommends. will never give up a chance to sleep in. polite smiles and genial nods in the presence of teachers, quirked eyebrows and infuriating smirks otherwise— he's a two faced little bitch and he's proud of it. doesn't get angry, but does get annoyed. hates confrontation, and will get out of one as fast as possible. sharp wit, sharper tongue. dry, sarcastic remarks under his breath that make peter cry with laughter. a human heater. fingers stained with blue ink and chocolate smudges. if he's not with the marauders, he's either sleeping or studying in the library. best at defence against the dark arts, but still not as good as sirius and james. speaks welsh, scots gaelic and old english. learns french and latin from sirius. a complete, utter mess; everything from his school satchel to his wardrobe to his bed is chaos (james despairs over his habits). absolutely loathes history of magic and potions. favourite subject is care of magical creatures, mostly due to the chaos that professor kettleburn causes. elton john, cher, tchaïkovsky. cannot play any musical instrument, but loves it when sirius and james duet together. smells like chocolate, cinnamon, and honey. owns a diary, and gets called a girl for it by peter. has chronic joint pain that is aggravated by the scotland weather. difficult relationships with his parents, but he still loves them and they love him back.

.

james: messy curls long enough to be tucked behind his ears. the only one who can beat sirius at chess. had an indian accent the first three years of hogwarts. plays the piano to calm himself. six foot one inch and hates it because sirius keeps giving him shit. fingers stained with charcoal, graphite, and alta dye applied for bharatanatyam. always moving, can never sit still unless he's reading or sketching. kajal lining brown eyes and dotted behind his ear for good luck. bright smiles and fondly exasperated shakes of his head. mother hen because "none of these idiots can be trusted to look after themselves". brown skin that just gets darker from quidditch practice in the sun. reads literally anything he can get his hands on, genre does not matter. dozens of journals filled with detailed sketches of anything and everything that catches his eye (a couple of journals are dedicated solely to green eyes. a couple more are filled with sketches of sirius). outstanding at transfiguration and arithmancy. never has to study (it drives peter to apoplexy). does not get offended or angered easily, but will go off on anyone who insults his friends. fits into any clique— jock, nerd, theatre kid, musicians, you name it. hopeless romantic. hates messes, always nagging his friends to clean up after themselves. chai, always. unapologetic mama's boy. proud of his indian lineage. rises before the sun does. always has cold fingers, and steals sirius' jackets. burrows into sirius' hugs for warmth. long, scalding hot baths. mother tongue is marathi. speaks hindi, urdu, french, latin, tamil, greek and sanskrit. loves every subject except history of magic. listens to any genre of music as long as it sounds good. loves balls and galas because he gets to dress up and dance. always has some sort of indian confectionary on him— barfi, laddoo, maisurpak, gulab jamun. it adds a sugary layer to his chandan perfume.

.

peter: buzz cut, but wants to grow it out. steals james' books and never reads them. smells of earth and a woody perfume his mother got for him in fourth year. can't play chess for shit, but is better than remus at gobstones. his bed and closet are well maintained and always neat. laughs a lot (it sounds squeaky), and his eyes twinkle when he smiles. best at herbology and care or magical creatures, but he hates the latter. a sarcastic twerp and a sneaky little shit. has the normal sense of humour— the other three boys thrive off of dark jokes. absolutely loathes studying, but needs to do it, so he does (while grumbling good naturedly about sirius and james not needing to). whistles when he walks the corridors of hogwarts, with his hands in his pockets. loves the waltz, and always has a record playing at low volume whenever possible. atrocious sense of style/fashion, and gets heckled by sirius and james for it. has notebooks upon notebooks filled with little doodles that are surprisingly good. always listens when sirius or james play the violin or piano, and sometimes drags remus into a waltz to make everyone laugh. claims to be annoyed by james' mother henning, but everyone knows he adores it. friends with a lot of the younger students, and always has liquorice or lozenges on him to give to them. cat person, terrified of mcgonagall. he loves watching james perform bharatanatyam, and asked for lessons in fourth year. he gave up within a month, saying he would stick to waltzing, thank you very much. always, always, has a granola bar filled with nuts somewhere in his pockets. does not understand why mint chocolate is a thing, and absolutely refuses to eat anything that has mint in it. steals james' confectionary and gets tackled for it. will eat ice-cream no matter the season, even if he has a cold.

[nyaagolor]

What's going on with Nemona's wrist?

this is mostly just me putting down all my thoughts about this hc I have. Below the cut bc it's long as usual but read on if ur interested in like. orthopedics

I think Nemona has fatigue and some kind of wrist Issue because 1. She implies she has decreased motor function in that arm (can't throw pokeballs well, supports her arm with her other hand during battles) 2. She wears a brace 3. She gets winded easily / needs to catch her breath more than other characters / hates stairs So that got me wondering what the cause could be. I work in an orthopedic office and my shifts are 12 hours so sometimes when it's slow and I'm bored this is what my mind wanders to

Option 1: It's carpal tunnel and she's out of shape This is the most obvious answer since carpal tunnel is a repetitive stress injury and she's wearing a brace that looks almost identical to irl braces for that problem. Throwing pokeballs over and over, especially incorrectly, would be the most likely cause of an asymmetrical injury like that, and is actually reasonable for someone of her age and activity level. The winded thing is just because she's out of shape and has no underlying cause. Or maybe she just has some kinda chronic pain / fatigue disorder. That's not my department idk

Option 2: Oligoarticular JIA (juvenile idiopathic arthritis) This very long name is just describing chronic joint swelling in children that affects less than 5 joints. It's an autoimmune disease, and actually not that uncommon all things considered. It causes stiffness and pain, which would explain the stamina issues and motor skill issues. Plus, the constant flexion and extension of the knees from staircases certainly would explain her distaste for them in particular. That shit hurts. Occasionally people will use a brace for JIA-- it's highly unlikely her wrist would be the worst considering the typical presentation patterns (it usually affects bigger joints first like the knees) but hey. It's possible! This condition also affects young girls more often than other groups so. Math checks out

Option 3: Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hypermobility type) Figured I would include this bc I've seen a few people hc this and wanted to give it a fair shot myself. This is a heritable connective tissue disorder that causes hypermobile joints, chronic pain, fatigue, and a whole host of other things. Specifically tho, this disorder used to be called EDS type III and is now considered part of the Hypermobility Spectrum Disorders, but that's a can of worms for a post that's not this one. While the symptoms do match, and honestly quite well (a brace for stabilization makes perfect sense and the fatigue symptoms feel pretty on the nose) the disease usually causes very stretchy skin and vascular issues that she doesn't seem to have so I'm a tad on the fence

Option 4: Cervical spinal stenosis Despite this being the first thing that came to mind for me (since I see it a lot in the office) I'm now less convinced this would be the case. This disorder is basically a narrowing of the spinal canal that pinches the nerves in the neck. It can cause pain, weakness, numbing, and pain that radiates down the body. If most of the compression was on the C4 and C5 nerve I can see it affecting one arm / wrist especially rough (since the pain is typically bilateral but asymmetrical) but also this occurring in people under the age of 50 is SUPER rare so eh. It's possible it was congenital or caused by an injury but I wouldn't bet on it. As for the stamina issues, the neurological issues caused by the compression would likely be the cause of that, especially radiating down the back and legs. Felt worth it to include even if I'm not 100% convinced

I'm saying "options" here bc these symptoms are super vague and there's like 80 billion things that could cause it, I'm just racking my brain for different possibilities. If anyone has other hcs for the underlying causes of Her Whole Deal lmk I'm curious

[hrokkall]

Saw a post the other day asking how P03 is able to see; my best guess is something like this.

I actually inspected P03′s 3D model for this which I don’t usually do (and then I proceeded to draw it off-model anyway. Whoops) but even outside of its hypothetical camera-vision, there’s a few other things of note:

P03 seems to have a lot of large vents (or at least things that look like some sort of ventilation/cooling). Two major ones on the chest, three on the top of the head (with potentially another on the side of its head), and one on the underside of its base (though that one might be for the hologram projection it uses to float). My best guess is that it’s because his factory is built right by the water where there would be a TON of moisture in the air. For that reason, some of them have got to be exhausts to make sure all of the air circulating in his torso is dry. That or he just overheats extremely easily I guess, but I’m leaning towards the humidity explanation (or it could be a combination of the two).

Its “eyes” are somewhere on the front of its face; whether it sees through a camera or just through the eyes on the screen via video game magic is up for debate, but it turns to face the player when they stand up so its vision probably isn’t on the sides of its head or something.

Similarly, P03 has some sort of sensitivity to touch (he reacts to Leshy’s hands gripping his monitor before Leshy says anything). I don’t think any “touch sensors” would be externally visible though.

Presumably (based on the ending to Act 3) P03′s head isn’t just a monitor, there’s vital systems in there as well (otherwise tearing its head off wouldn’t do anything to disrupt its upload/its ability to function). My best guess is that his power supply is in his chest so it would be the equivalent of just... unplugging your computer while it’s trying to preform updates.

The wire it uses to connect to the modules to update cards in Act 3 seems to come from either its neck or its torso, but in act 2 it’s very visibly on the side of the head. Granted the act 2 sprites are all pretty different from the Scrybes’ 3D models so that’s not an outlier.

The range of motion in P03′s arm seems pretty similar to a human arm; he has a ball-and-socket joint on the shoulder and a hinge joint on his elbow plus separate segments for the “wrist” and “hand”. The only thing it probably can’t do is twist its forearm.

I don’t have any idea what either of the cranks do. The head crank moves when it changes its expression so it might have something to do with its display, but the arm crank is only shown doing anything on the G0lly Uberbot hologram. My best guess is that P03 used to have a lot more built-in functions but ended up removing them in order to operate faster so a lot of the buttons and switches on it are just vestigial leftovers. (The idea of the arm crank being able to function as a hand-crank motor in a pinch is really funny though. Spin it a few times when P03 is out of power and you can generate just enough battery for it to tell you to fuck off then go back into sleep mode again).

I have no idea how the levitation works either. It’s cool and that’s why it works. No need to get more complicated than that.

[onboardsorasora]

5 times people thought Daniel was dating max or Lewis and the 1 time they figured out Daniel was actually dating Lewis AND Max

Oooohhh

Daniel seen by one of the mechanics leaving Lewis’ motor home late one night when the team broke curfew to work on a car

Daniel throwing his neck out to laugh insanely at Max’s deeply unfunny joke while resting in Max’s personal space

Daniel seen going onto Max’s floor of the hotel when they get to Miami, with all of his suitcases

Daniel photographed wearing a bomber jacket that Lewis wore the year before to the paddock. Fans spotted the 44 on the cuff

Roscoe running across the paddock to get to Daniel who kneels down easily and happily gives Roscoe pets.

+1

A grainy video from a club surfaces. It’s dark and the person clearly zoomed in to a corner where 3 people are dancing- grinding on each other. The one in the middle kisses the man in front of him before lazily turning to kiss the other. There is a pause and something whispered in an ear. Then the person in the middle throws their head back and laughs in a very familiar way.

There is a joint social media post from three accounts requesting that fans respect their privacy.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Worry Me, Worry You

[Dew is sick Swiss has some feelings about it. Contains discussion of being sick both in the sense of being unwell as well as in the physical sense. A fair bit of angst with a mild resolution at the end.] Below the cut.

When Dew gets sick, It starts with a weakness in his fingers, an inability to grip things in his hand without it feeling... off.

His muscles and joints feel loose and wrong, so he clenches his fists tighter, strains and tires himself without realizing until he can't manage simple tasks anymore.

His hands shake, and his sight goes to static at the edges, save for a strange, drifting clear spot in his vision, that has a filminess to it like a soap bubble without the rainbow sheen.

The pain doesn't set in right away, but the inability to focus his vision, combined by the sudden loss of his fine motor tells him it's only a matter of time before it does.

So when his hand refuses to close around the pen he's been using to scribble down notes with, he knows something's wrong... and he needs to deal with it before someone sees him.

Dew wets his lips, grateful to have caught things in the early stages, before his stomach has a chance to turn, before he feels that familiar numbness in the back of his throat...

He drops the pen onto the desk and closes his eyes, trying to strategize how exactly he's going to make it from his desk to his on suite bathroom without jostling himself too much.

He only needs to make it ten feet.

Why does that seem so far away now?

With great difficulty, Dew stands on unsure feet for only a moment before feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"Shit." he staggers uncoordinatedly in one spot before carefully lowering himself to the ground, knees pressing into the hardwood, and crawls to the bathroom instead.

He can barely reach the handle from the floor, but when he does, the door refuses to budge, and Dew bumps against it weakly with his shoulder, accidentally knocking his head and wincing.

He really needs to get this thing fucking fixed.

His head and the damned door.

Dew grunts awkwardly, smacking his hand uselessly against the flat surface.

It doesn't even make a sound when his hand slaps it, looks more like he's drunkenly petting it if anything.

Fuck.

His eyes water, clouding his already hazy vision as the pain starts to really set in.

It's like someone stabbing him repeatedly in the head with a metal fork, but lifting each time to scrape against the insides of his skull, and the only thing he can think to do is press his face to the floor and hope it's cold enough to soothe the persistent pulsing in his brain.

He tries to breathe normally, keep himself from clenching his jaw, but it's hard.

His body feels impossibly heavy.

He shivers.

Across the room, he can hear his phone buzzing.

Someone's calling him, but he just closes his eyes, trying to block out the noise.

It's not easy, and the grating sound of it rattling against the desktop feels like a knife in his ear, but, eventually, he's more focused on keeping his stomach settled and his head cooled that he's too out of it to realize his bedroom door is opening.

.

.

.

When Dew opens his eyes again, he's in his bed, bundled up in a sweatshirt too big to be his own, propped up on his side by a pillow wedged under his back, and a blanket covering him from the waist down, so his legs stay warm, but ensuring that his tender stomach stays relatively cooler.

A cold compress falls from his neck as he lifts his head, looking around the room tiredly.

He's dully aware of two things as he comes back to himself.

His mouth tastes like... peppermint.

Whoever put him here also brushed his teeth, and...

There's a distinct smell of artificial lemons in the air, like the floor cleaner they use specifically for the wood floors when there's been a spill so it doesn't leave a stain.

He tries not to think about what the person needed to clean up besides, ya know, him.

Dew sniffs again, but something about the action causes a fleck of spit to go down the wrong tube, and he lets out a little cough, which quickly turns into a groan as the muscles in his abdomen contract.

"Ah, you're awake."

Dew makes a small, befuddled noise in the back of his throat, followed by a weary chirp when he sees Rain walk into the room, smiling at him.

Dew drags himself up into a sitting position, and Rain is quick to rearrange his pillows to keep him upright.

"...Did you clean up my... the mess?" he croaks, his throat feels painfully dry, "Ow..."

"Mm-mm." Rain shakes his head, uncapping a water bottle and handing it to Dew.

"Nah, that was Swiss, he's the one who found you on the floor. Said he was coming to show you something stupid he bought and... yeah."

Dew tries to lift the bottle to drink, but his hands are too shaky and he spills a little down the front of his shirt, pouting.

Seeing his predicament, Rain steadies the bottle enough for Dew to drink a few good sips of water before taking it back and setting it on the nightstand beside the bed, "Better?"

"Mn..." he clicks his tongue, "I feel like... a rock... a rock made of shit."

"That's... I have no idea if feeling like a coprolite is better or worse than you felt before, but I'm going to assume that means you're feeling... relatively okay?"

"Ehn." Dew shrugs, "...my head doesn't hurt anymore, but my stomach's being a bitch..."

"Do you think you're going to throw up again?" Rain asks, worriedly eyeing the bathroom door.

"No... it's just sore now." he says, sinking back into the pillows, looking around the room curiously, "...Where'd Swiss go?"

"To take a shower." Rain says, glancing at the floor.

Ah.

"...'m sorry." Dew mumbles and Rain just smiles sadly and pets his hair.

"If you want to apologize to properly, you've gotta rest up and get better, okay?"

Dew nods, purring sleepily as Rain scratches around his horns.

"Any idea what made you sick?" Rain asks and Dew shrugs.

"Mn, migraine maybe... dunno..." he tugs at his shirt, "...Whose is this? Is this a unicorn riding a... riding a motorcyle, what?"

"It's Cirrus'."

Dew pinches his eyes shut and grumbles, "How many of you saw me all... gross and shit?"

There's a brief pause of consideration before Rain responds.

"Uh... When Swiss found you, he kind of shouted and..."

Dew covers his face with his hands.

"...Fuuuck..."

"We didn't know what was happening and-" Rain cuts himself off, watching tears dribble down Dew's chin, "Dew? Dew, does something hurt?"

"'m fuckin' embarrassed, what the fuck..." he whines, turning away from Rain and smushing his face into the pillow.

"Dew, it's-"

"'s'not okay..." Dew mumbles, "...I don't even remember what happened between being on the floor and now, and you all... that's fuckin' stupid."

"How's it stupid?"

"...I'm stupid. This is stupid-"

"Dew-"

"-My body's fucking stupid!" Dew cries, whipping around and throwing the pillows off his bed in a fit, flopping back down only to kick the sheets off as well, sniffling angrily when they refuse to untangle from around his legs.

"I'm a fuckin' demon! I'm supposed to be tougher than this!"

"Dew." Rain says a bit more firmly, grabbing his knees, forcing his legs to still, "Dew, I know it's upsetting, but we've got this, yeah? We're gonna take care of you."

"I don't want that..." Dew wipes his eyes with the sleeve of Cirrus' sweatshirt, "Don't want it..."

"Don't want us to take care of you or..." Rain tries, lowering his voice.

"Don't want..." Dew rolls onto his side again, "...I don't... I don't like..."

Rain tilts his head and waits.

"...I don't..." he can't finish the sentence.

He doesn't even know how he's supposed to articulate what he's feeling right now aside from sick.

His brain feels like pudding and all he can keep thinking about is how all of them...

...All of them...

"...Don't like it when you see me... see me like that..." he says finally, picking at the mattress, "Just leave me on the floor next time, pretend you didn't notice-"

The door creaks open and Swiss enters with his arms crossed.

"You... you know we can't do that, right?" he scoffs, holding his hand up when Dew opens his mouth to argue, "Sorry, baby boy, but I... we don't like seeing you suffer as much as you seem to want to hide it, so, like, no."

Dew hisses, but feels the fight leaving him when Rain sends him a sympathetic look and kneads his shoulder soothingly.

Swiss enters the room fully and shuts the door part way, leaving it ajar, before sitting down on the end of his bed, just out of kicking range in case Dew throws another tantrum.

"...This is fucking humiliating..." Dew huffs, staring daggers at his ceiling fan.

"Which part? Your sweet new sleep shirt curtesy of Cirrus, or the fact that we all love you so much we wouldn't let you lie on the floor in agony?"

Dew tilts his head down to look at the shirt again.

"...The latter."

He does have to admit he likes the design, but that's not the point.

"Well, too bad. We love ya, and you're going to have to get used to that." Swiss teases, "But, really, dude... We were really worried."

Rain nods.

"I would have been fine..." Dew whispers, "Not my first rodeo with this shit, so..."

"And you know that's more concerning, right?" Swiss points out, "Cause here's the thing; I don't care if you don't care about your own wellbeing, I mean, I fucking DO because you should care, but that's not even... What I'm trying to say is, if you're not doing well, you can tell us, you know that, yeah?"

Dew frowns, returning to glaring at his ceiling.

"Dew..." Swiss sighs, "I..."

He takes a deep breath and leans forward to hold his hand.

"Have any of us... ever made you feel like it isn't safe to talk about this stuff?" he asks.

"...No."

"But, do you... feel like it's not safe to talk about it?"

Dew doesn't answer right away, but when he does, his voice wobbles a bit.

"Yeahh..."

Rain returns to petting Dew's hair, "We've got you."

Swiss gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

At some point, Dew falls back asleep.

His dreams are nightmarish and provide little to no respite.

.

.

.

When Dew wakes, Rain is gone, but Swiss is lounging on his bed beside him scrolling through his phone, and Dew angles his head to take a peek at his screen.

"...Is that a dog or a cat?" he asks, his words a bit slurred from the way he's squished.

Swiss startles and almost drops his phone, "Jesus!"

He places a hand on his chest.

"I thought you were asleep!"

"I was." Dew mumbles, "...And now I'm awake."

"Thank you for the rundown, Captain Obvious.... Geez... You're scaring me a lot today, you know that?" Swiss pinches Dew's cheek and gives it a pull.

"Aughh diiidnth meean tooahh..." Dew says, "...'m thorry."

Swiss lets go of his face and sets his phone off to the side.

"You really did though." he says, ruffling Dew's hair, "I got scared seeing you on the ground like that, I didn't know what to do, and if... if something..."

He shakes his head.

"Actually, let's talk about that later, when you're better... How're you feeling now that you've slept some more?"

Dew yawns, "Weirdly more tired..."

Swiss snorts, "Yeah?"

"Yeah..." Dew wriggles closer to Swiss, looping his arm around his midsection and bumping his head against his chest.

"Whatcha doin' there, bud?"

"Lay down." Dew nudges him, "Sleep."

"Well, since you asked so politely..."

Dew lets Swiss go in order for him to get settled, resting his head on the pillow beside his.

"I'm still upset with you." Swiss informs him, but still allows Dew to snuggle up against his side, "...Glad you're not dead though."

"You thought I died?"

Swiss hums.

"You weren't responding when I called your name or shook you, so... yeah... yeah, I did." he says, resting his chin on top of Dew's head, "Aeth came running, made sure that... that you weren't... ya know."

"...Ah..."

"I..." Swiss swallows, voice cracking, "...Everybody was scared, but then you woke up! And we got you to answer some questions, and then... then you..."

"What did I do?" Dew asks nervously.

"You, uh, you... it was like the meme... You were just standing there, like dumbfounded about it, and meanwhile I'm over here like, 'BRO'..."

"This clears up nothing."

"You ruined my crocs."

"Oh. Ohhh..."

"Yeah."

They sit in silence for a moment while Dew processes this new information.

"...In hindsight, that's... that's at least a little funny." he says, "...Who brushed my teeth?"

"Oh that was Aeth and Rainy, they had a hell of a time getting into your bathroom, so they took you to Cirrus' room and got you all cleaned up. That's where we got the shirt and the shorts."

Dew lifts the blankets and stares.

Pink with white polka dots... what kind of cursed wardrobe is Cirrus hiding in her bedroom?

"After that, Mount made some weird tea and made you drink it, which, like, I don't know what was in that stuff-"

"Peppermint and chamomile with a sprinkling of ginger and two ibuprofen on the side!" Mountain calls from the other side of the wall.

Swiss blinks, "Damn the walls in this place are thin..."

"Anyway, you drank, like, two cups of that and zonked out, and that's about it. Still embarrassed?"

"Little bit... Less now that I know what happened... that's the scariest part." Dew confesses, "...It's the idea that something happened and I don't remember, but other people do, combined with... I dunno, not being able to stop it from happening to begin with..."

"Well... maybe a trip to the doctor is in order to help with that last part." Swiss says, rubbing Dew's back, "...Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, Dewboy."

"Love you, too."

"We all love each other, now go to bed already, some of us are trying to sleep!" Cirrus chimes in from across the hallway, sending a pillow through the open door.

"You're all ruining the moment!" Swiss complains.

"If everyone is awake right now, can someone get me a glass of water?" Sunny inquires.

"Didn't I already get you-"

Swiss gets up and closes the door.

"Bedtime?" he asks.

"Bedtime." Dew confirms, holding his arms out for Swiss to collapse back into.

[justkidneying]

Whiplash

Whiplash is a type of neck injury that is caused by an abrupt movement of the neck. Most commonly, it is the result of motor vehicle accidents, but it can also be seen from sport and fall injuries. It is usually not severe, but can take several weeks to recover from.

What is injured? The muscles of the neck are being abruptly stretched, so they're going to be sore. This includes the sternocleidomastoid muscle, the scalene muscles, and longissimus coli muscles. The internal structures can also be damaged. The pharynx and esophagus are both pretty vulnerable (soft and weak). The spinal nerves, intervertebral discs, and facet joints of the spine can be damaged (called facet joints). Also, all the ligaments (which hold the vertebra together) can be injured as well.

What are the risk factors? Whiplash is more common in younger females, and people with a prior history of neck pain. In regards to motor vehicle accidents, whiplash is more likely in those who suffered a rear collision in a stationary vehicle and were not at fault (also people who got a payout are more likely to have it - but like also a lot of people lie about symptoms for money, lol).

How is it diagnosed? You mainly have to look at the mechanism of injury, as there is not really anything to see on imaging. As long as the person doesn't appear to have a more serious injury, you can probably say it's whiplash.

How is it treated? The patient should ice their neck on and off for the first 18 hours after the injury to reduce pain and swelling. They should also rest as much as possible for the first day or so after the injury. After that, they can apply moist heat to their neck if there is further pain. Cervical collars can be used, but it's honestly a bit much, and you wouldn't want someone to wear one for more than a day if they don't need it. Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (like ibuprofen) can be used for pain management as well.

Overall, whiplash isn't that big of a deal. It happens a lot and usually doesn't have many complications. The worst thing is if symptoms don't go away after a few weeks, and it's a problem if they persist to a year. Then there might need to be some different treatments initiated.

[mortumslab]

My first attempt at Fanfic for the Fallen Hero universe. I am a science nerd in healthcare, so I'd like to try the first Dr. Halabi note as a SOAP (physician) note at Dr. Mortum's facility for my Sidestep (Arya).

Arya, as Retribution, is an anarchist set on justice and has been revealed to the Rangers, but Sky-Raider got her out before any of the Rangers could make a move.

__________________________

Note: These records are for internal use ONLY. Disclosure of these forms will be met with swift recourse.

Date: 5-10-21 

Facility: Mortum Site 01

Patient #: 2344

Patient Name: Arya Skovsgaard

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Attending: Dr. Halabi, MD

CC: Traumatic MVA

HPI:

Arya Skovsgaard is a 30 y.o. AFAB transferred to Site 01 two days following a motor vehicle accident. Per LDPD reports, the patient was restrained, and airbags were deployed. The patient appeared to be driving down the opposite lane on a two-lane highway and struck an oncoming truck. The larger truck was undamaged, but the vehicle the patient was driving was no longer operable. The patient is a known telepath (T12345678), Alpha level. She is known to be capable of operating other individuals through telepathy. The patient was transferred from the care of the Los Diabolos’ Rangers prior to arrival at Site 01. Previous to this, they were at Memorial Hospital under the care of another, unknown physician, wherein lower extremity injuries were treated. The patient chart was consulted prior to transfer. During their stay at this facility, the patient was discharged to inpatient care with a bilateral tibial fracture along the mid-diaphyseal line and a right femoral fracture at the mid-epiphyseal line. Lastly, physicians at the Ranger facility note left SI joint disjunction. It is not known if the accident was intentional, but the Ranger discharge notes allude to this as a possibility. For this reason, the patient will be under constant security detail. 

HPI is incomplete due to the current AMS.

ROS:

Patient arrived to facility in a state of alterted mental status leading to an incomplete ROS

Head: Positive for trauma

ENT: Negative for dental trauma

MSK: Grossly apparent damage to bilateral lower extremities

Integumentary: Positive for abrasions, lacerations, ecchymosis

Psych: Altered mental status

Neuro: Loss of consciousness

Physical Exam:

Physical exam from Dr. Petroza at time of surgery and reconstruction is included as a separate document. Below is Dr. Halabi’s secondary PE upon admission to Site 01.

Head: Trauma noted to bilateral orbitals. Ecchymosis around orbitals with classic appearance of trauma.

Neck: No trauma noted

Lymph: No abormalities noted.

Musculoskeletal: See diagram. Dr. Petroza and team applied bilateral leg casting to patient from femural head distally to ankle. Difficult to assess. Otherwise noted 

CV: No murmurs, rubs, gallops. Normal rate, rhythm. 

Respiratory: Some wheezing. Imaging from Ranger HQ shows no pneumothorax. Brusing to ribs, possibly due to CPR on scene.

GU: No abnormalities noted

Integumentary: Diffuse ecchymosis and bruising to regions visible, patient has [REDACTED] on skin noting them to be [REDACTED].

Psych: Unable to assess

Neuro: Unable to assess. Known telepath.

Assessment:

Agreement with prior disagnosis of bilateral tibial fracture along the mid-diaphsyeal line and right femoral fracture at the mid-epiphyseal line with protrusion from the medial right femur and bilateral media tibia.

Dipostion:

Inpatient discharge.

Progress notes:

5-20-21

2320: Call recieved that patient is en route.

5-21-21

0023: Patient arrives to Site 01.

0024: Dr. Halabi, attending, in room and performing phyical exam. 

0100: Patient woke briefly and [REDACTED] attacked them - they were removed from the premises. Security was tightened on the room.

0300: Patient awakens and requests food. Dr. Mortum in room and discussion plan with patient.

0800: Phone call received on patients cell phone from number listed “Julia.” Voicemail left. 

TRANSCRIPTION: “Arya, I know you’re out there. I… I’m glad. We’ll talk when you’re ready. I know you don’t want me to be around for this - but we need to talk. I want to help. I had some time to think… you might not have gone about this in the way I would have expected, but I think you have the right idea. Please call me. I love you.”

0830: Patient requesting discharge to their home. The Site will send her with an escort.

Electronic Signature:

Dr. Halabi, MD

This report is to remain within Site 01. If it is found outside of these servers, it should be destroyed, and the aforementioned party should be warned.

[unprotectedmechs]

hyperrealistic humanoid android methodically slicing through and removing their silicone skin to reveal their titanium skeleton, the motors and actuators in their joints and musculature, the wiring coiling down their neck, around their spine and throughout their limbs like veins, mesmerized by the way the artificial tendons in their wrists contract and relax

[glass-strawberries]

aching lullaby

//for @/ironstrangeprompts #1329

Music is one of Stephen’s great joys in life. The satisfaction of a beautifully intertwined melody and harmony, the consonance of the chords, the passion and meaning behind the notes…it’s heaven on earth. 

When Donna was still alive, he played Claire De Lune to lull her to sleep, and tucked her in with his old stuffed bear from when he was a baby.

When she died, he gave up on music and pursued medicine. He felt guilty for even listening to music for a while, but found that he could combine his interests in the OR. 

Now, Donna is still dead, but he’s sitting on the stool of the Steinway Grand Tony had lying around, reminiscing without purpose. His hands both metaphorically and literally ache to press his fingers against the ebony keys, to lose himself in the whimsicality of the classics. Stephen presses his hands against each other, feeling the scars left behind and the pins and rods holding his joints together. 

They are a mangled mess, he thinks, a treasury of non-concordance and dissonance. His head hangs low, close enough to the keys to smell the musk of the wood and pencil lead. It’s all too much, the smell, the feel, the memories. He chokes on a sob, unwilling for Tony to see him broken to pieces.

Soft footsteps pad down the stairs, slower than usual considering the ungodly time of day that Stephen was occupying. The footsteps stopped as they neared the room, and he heard some metal tool being put down on a table. Stephen gave in and fully rested his head on the keys, striking a dissonant chord.

Strong arms came to wrap around him, shrouding him in a blanket of security and comfort. The same hands came to lightly hold his own, tracing the same path of scars Stephen had gone over. 

“What would you like to hear, Stephen?” Tony said, softly. Stephen inhaled slowly, the fire in his lungs dimming to a sputter. 

“Claire De L'une. Claude Debussy. 1905," he speaks in barely a whisper. Tony kisses the back of his neck, and Stephen can smell grease and motor oil.

"Whatever you want, love"

As Stephens back was flush against Tony's chest, Tony brought his arms around his waist and rested his hands on the keys. He brought Stephens hands to rest on top of his, and together they played, long into the night.

[billy-cockblock]

REV AU one shot: Chris finds out

Crawls out of my hole covered in blood and mold: I don't know why this was so hard to write, but the writer's block is hitting me hard. I could see several parts of this scene so clearly in my head, but my brain just really didn't want to put words to paper. Once my brain's better I'll probably come and edit this a bit, but I hope y'all enjoy it. It's definitely one or the favorite scenes I've come up with.

He quickly lifted heavy limbs, picking them up from the ground. Leon’s vision had gone dark, but his rapidly came into focus. 

He fumbled for the gun dropped when they went flying, foreign hands finding familiar purchase against the metal. Taking aim, he let off a volley of shots at the monsters encroaching on them. 

They were tougher than infected he’d faced before; the center body of the strange knife-whipping tentacles needing to be basically shredded before they died, and bullet holes slowly sealed over with black tendrils if it wasn’t killed completely. 

He felt like he was wasting ammo, but it just took so many bullets to drop the monsters. The larger one that’d flung them across the room and slammed Leon’s head into a desk was getting closer, lumbering steps slow. He tried to shoot its head like the rest of them, but the gun only clicked.

He swore under his breath and pulled Leon’s knife out; he hated close-quarters combat, but he didn’t have time to reload. Diving past flailing, dangerous limbs, he buried the knife in its main body. It grabbed and sliced at them, but he kept stabbing and cutting until it was too shredded to keep moving. He shoved it with more strength than he was used to, and it fell to the ground, dead.

Head still on a swivel, he made sure there were no more infected. The room looked clear, but there were a few desks and filing cabinets something could hide behind. 

While he checked the room over, Ethan took a breath. He felt bad for having to break his promise of not taking control, but Leon wasn’t waking up in time. He’d pull back once Leon woke up, but it felt like he’d gotten a concussion with how hard he’d gotten his head hit. He spread his mold, stitching closed the scratches and scrapes Leon’s body had accrued. Skin and muscle was easy to regenerate, then pull his network from, and it’d almost become second nature since he’d gotten permission from Leon. 

Nerves were a little harder. The mold naturally liked to cling to the nervous system, trying to take control and upload a person’s consciousness to the megamycete. It preferred to envelop or take over nerves, and that took more coaxing from Ethan to get it to untangle. 

That’s why he was hesitating trying to do something about the concussion. He’d done his best to take control of Leon’s motor functions without getting the mold too tangled with his brain, but he’d have to root even deeper if he wanted to heal it. He subconsciously felt along his connection from the megamycete to the brain-

He froze. Damaged cartilage, more mold present, fractured vertebrae, and frayed nerves. A lot of frayed nerves. 

He reached for the back of Leon’s neck, both with the body’s hand and his mold. The joints in the spine felt like they’d been misaligned before snapping back into place, nearly severing Leon’s entire spinal cord. His brain still sent and received continuous waves of signals to and from the body, impulses carried across the gap by Ethan’s mold network tangling with Leon’s nervous system. 

Ethan felt like he was going to be sick. Or, as sick as he could feel in the state he was in. He didn’t think Leon hit his head that badly, but he guessed his neck did snap in a weird angle when they hit that desk. 

After the horrific stories Leon had told him, a desk is what would have done him in?

He tried to pull the nerve fibers back together, but the mold that had taken their places was stubborn. It had locked itself firmly in place to keep the cord from coming detached and shutting down Leon’s body functions. He’s glad it obeyed when he tried to program it to protect Leon without his input, but he needed the mold to move if he wanted to heal it enough that he could remove it. He’d have to work to remove his network from his nerves anyway, so he might as well work on healing the concussion. He could practically hear the megamycete sing in joy as he spread to repair the battering Leon’s brain had taken-

“Close call, huh?” a familiar voice asked from behind them, making him tense up. 

“Y-yeah, no kidding,” he replied, trying his best to speak like Leon. He nearly enveloped the man’s brain to speed his healing; he needed Leon awake now. 

“I got worried when I saw one of them toss you, but I knew you’d have it handled,” Chris Redfield continued, none the wiser that he wasn’t talking to the real Leon. Ethan could hear him do that dumb slow pace he does while talking, where he wouldn’t look at him; dramatic asshole. Leon would’ve been dead if he didn’t have the mold. “You aren’t hurt too bad, though? Or infected?”

“No, I’ve had worse,” he replied, echoing what Leon said every time he’d close his wounds. He did his best to keep casual while hiding every inch of skin he could. His dark veins under Leon’s skin were visible even on his hands, and Ethan was sure his face was worse. 

“True, but this is my case,” Chris stopped his pacing and sighed. “This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t lost control of E-003.” A bolt of white-hot anger flared through Ethan’s entire network, and he felt a tingle from Leon’s brain. “Someone got to her, and-“

“What did you call Rose?” a voice, distinctly not Leon’s, left his mouth. Ethan whirled around without thinking, face pinched in anger, before freezing, rage forgotten. 

He met Chris’s eyes for the first time in sixteen years, and it was like the horror and dread never left them since that day in Europe. 

Without breaking eye contact, Chris pulled his pistol from its holster but kept it trained on the ground. With his other hand, he clicked the radio on his shoulder.

“Redfield reporting,” his gravelly voice didn’t give anything away, but Ethan couldn’t let him finish. “Kennedy’s been-”

A pillar of mold extending from Leon’s arm slammed him in the shoulder and enveloped the radio. He rolled with the force and raised his gun. The bullets aimed straight for Leon’s head harmlessly embedded themselves in a thick, carapace-like shield formed on his other arm.

Ethan had to get them out of there. The door was behind Chris, but the windows behind them were busted. They were on the second floor, so climbing to the roof would be better.

With half a plan, he tried to form tendrils to drag them back while he kept guarding their front. The mold twisted up in the space the megamycete laid in and instead formed four long, spider-like legs from Leon’s back. 

Whatever, I can work with it, he thought, sending a tendril off his arm to pull Chris’s feet out from under him. He lifted them off the ground, pulling them back to the window. He found it with the limbs and hooked them outside the frame. He grew claws over Leon’s hands to scramble up the side, earning him a bullet to leg once his guard was dropped. He ignored Chris’s shouts as he climbed over the edge of the roof and jumped for another.

He strengthened his legs and used the spidery limbs to get him as far from Chris as he could. He wouldn’t let Leon get found out, he wouldn’t let him get killed, and he’d only stay until he knew Rose was safe. Now he just had to find a place to settle down enough to finish Leon’s healing.

A sudden stab of pain to his consciousness nearly sent him careening off a roof. He thought it might’ve been something from the megamycete trying to fight its way out before he heard him.

What the hell was that?! Leon mentally shouted; he was wrestling for control back to his body, and was doing a damn good job of it. You promised! And why did you attack Chris?!

Ethan pulled any mold back back from his skin and shoved control back so fast, Leon fell to his knees.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… he said on repeat. He felt Leon’s shoulders loose a little tension as he shakily stood to find cover behind an air conditioner. Once he’d gotten settled down, he laid a hand on his chest over where the megamycete rested.

“Hey,” he said, tapping his chest to get Ethan’s attention. “I feel like I missed something while I was out. Mind filling me in?”

[tiffyfoundsomething]

Lady Doolli

I’ve mentioned before that I like blind box toys and ball jointed dolls and now I’m in trouble because there are blind box ball jointed dolls out there.

Lady Doolli is blind boxed but is NOT a BJD though she’s in a similar style. I’d seen these on Amazon for a while and was curious but only recently decided to give one a try.

There is 1 skintone, 6 different hair styles/colors, and it looks like maybe 2 eye colors.

There are also 6 possible outfits.

The dolls and clothing are separate, but are each $26 and both are in the same listing here: https://amzn.to/3OrhHsk

The box is small and cute with a lot of pictures and writing on it, especially making a point to let you know there’s no second outfit in here and they must be bought separately.

The outfits are packed in a little paperboard box shaped like a garment bag. It says 2022 Spring, so I wonder if there are many other outfit sets that have been released.

To be honest, I don’t care for any of these outfits, really. Figured I should get one to review, at least.

Both the doll and outfit are packed in these silver foil bags inside the boxes. There’s no plastic shell or anything to hold their position in the packaging. They’re just loose in there.

I got dark, long hair with a side part with blue and purple eyes, and almost missed the tiny little bag of extra hands inside the silver bag. She does come already dressed in the pajamas.

I tried to get a good photo of the face screening but my phone is a potato. There’s a good amount of detail with a simple layout. She has eyeshadow, blush on the cheeks, chin, nose, and brows, a little lip line to separate her lips... It’s a cute face, but I do prefer my dolls to not look sad or startled.

She does have rooted hair which is silky and smooth. It’s a little stiffer than Kiwi nylon (Rainbow High) while still being soft.

She also has a couple paint spots on her face that look to be from the eyebrow paint.

The rooting isn’t super dense in some areas.

Her head is harder than a Barbie’s head but is squishable to a degree so her eyes could be removed and replaced with some heat and her hair could be rerooted if you wanted.

Hair drop on a new doll head is normal. This looks like a plug or two which didn’t get anchored.

I’m impressed with the posing. The joints are stiff enough to hold a pose but easy to move other than her hips which take a little bit more pressure, and have a high range of motion.

The torso joints aren’t as mobile as the arms and legs, though.

Her head can look up and down or tilt left and right depending on how you turn the neck joint which is a simple hinged ball.

The backs of the knees...

All of the jointing reminds me of Figmas.

Honestly I feel like the body alone is worth the $26 price tag, AND you get a rooted head with quality hair and inset eyes, a pair of pajamas, and an extra pair of hands.

-

Neither outfit that I have has any sort of closures or openings so you do need to remove the head and hands to dress her.

Getting the hands on and off is difficult

Turns out there’s a LOT of flash on her wrist pegs. I did go in and clean that off. There was a good sized bit on her neck ball, too.

Heat up the hands, though, and they go on and off pretty easily.

-

As for the outfit.

Silver bag again.

I couldn’t get this headband to stay on her hair because it’s satin and her hair is satiny smooth, but it does have a wire in the “ears” so you can pose it as you wish.

......

LOOK AT THESE TINY LITTLE SHOES!

They have stitches, laces, tongues, glued on rubbery soles with IN SCALE texture on the bottom...

They went on a lot more easily than I expected them to OVER her socks. I did need to get a little stick to pull the back of the heel out and over the doll’s heels. Other than that, easy-easy.

I also didn’t even try to extract and tie the laces. They looked really short and I have poor motor control, so I opted to just shove her feet in there with the laces tucked inside.

The outfit came with shorts, a one-piece sweater and shirt combo, and some long socks. The socks aren’t hemmed but everything else is. Again, no closures, not even an elastic waistband on the shorts. The shorts were a little difficult to put on.

All of the fabrics are soft and despite the sweater having a feelable texture, it’s not rough or scratchy so it’s not kicking off my texture-BAD senses.

Action pose! FWIP!

She can’t quite pull of Sailor Moon’s signature pose.

Here she is next to some other blind box BJD (the others really are BJD). They all could certainly share clothes despite Doolli’s longer, thinner body.

From left to right:

Penny’s Box Antu Natural Wonderland - https://amzn.to/3IqKfOz

SimonToy Teenar Campus Series - https://amzn.to/3IlnGLl

Lady Doolli and outfit pack - https://amzn.to/3MiOflA

Come4Free Bonnie Journey of Streets - https://amzn.to/42QlMKG

-

While I do feel that the quality of Lady Doolli is in line with the price (all together she costs $52), and am impressed with, basically, everything about her, I don’t feel a need to buy another. Out of all of the blind box BJD I’ve tried (not pictured here is the Penny’s Box centaurs), the only one I’ve wanted more than one of was Bonnie. I have three.

[persepor]

I NEED TO ADD SOMETHING TO THE AMAZING NSR HANAHAKI BY @jabberwockprince cause whoo boy when they said that Rin's was particularly poisonous I knew exactly what it would be.

Let me introduce you to the Oleander plant, a beautiful but very poisonous plant. As in you don't even have to ingest it, it's THAT toxic.

Anyways I think Rin's hanahaki disease would be more prominent around his neck and up his face, with the plants being poisonous it might affect his systems differently. He would slowly lose eye sight, motor function, and vocals because of the growth rate of the plant and with it being very poisonous.

He would be in denial at first, shrugging it off as nothing, until he notices how fast it grows around his neck. Almost like it's trying to suffocate him. Then it would grow slower on his face, affecting his right eye first and losing sight in it. Then he would take it a bit more seriously but I feel like he doesn't want to tell anyone. I, personally, think since he probably has the most fans and that maybe most of them are "intense" he'd feel like a burden to other people if he told them. So he'd hide it till either Zimelu or Purl Hew tell Neon J.

Again it isn't that noticeable on his joints and more noticeable on his neck and face because unlike Eloni......most of the plant is growing inside and around his inner joints and mechanisms.

Yep I think most of the plant would grow inside his inner workings. That's why I said he'd lose eye sight and motor functions, because it's affecting his inner workings. Also, again, it's poisonous to just be around so he could get others sick by just being around him. This would lead to him shutting himself away from the world, because he doesn't want to get anyone sick from just being around him.

Again Zimelu or Purl Hew or both would find Rin and take him to Neon J. I just went off on a tangent but I HAD to add to this.