#ppe in care homes

[egg24108]

shoutout to sprague-dawley rats my big beautiful chunky babies. they were the main type of rats i looked after and did research on this semester. perfect perfect angels

[feminist-space]

World Health Organization

MEDIA ADVISORY

NEW: COVID19 variant of interest JN.1

Geneva, 19 December 2023 -- Due to its rapidly increasing spread, WHO is classifying the variant JN.1 as a separate variant of interest (VOl) from the parent lineage BA.2.86. It was previously classified as VOl as part of BA.2.86 sublineages.

WHO advises people to take measures to prevent infections and severe disease using all available tools. These include:

-Wear a mask when in crowded, enclosed, or poorly ventilated areas, and keep a safe distance from others, as feasible

-Improve ventilation

-Practise respiratory etiquette - covering coughs and sneezes

-Clean your hands regularly

-Stay up to date with vaccinations against COVID-19 and influenza, especially if you are at high risk for severe disease

-Stay home if you are sick

-Get tested if you have symptoms, or if you might have been exposed to someone with COVID-19 or influenza

For health workers and health facilities, WHO advises:

-Universal masking in health facilities, as well as appropriate masking, respirators and other PPE for health workers caring for suspected and confirmed COVID-19 patients.

-Improve ventilation in health facilities

Image also has alt text embedded.

[incorrectbatfam]

Do the batfamily members ever get too into their undercover work? (Undercover in an office and theyre worried about spreadsheets, working in a warehouse and coming home complaining about missing parts)

Bruce: Status updates on your undercover missions. Dick, you first. What have you got down at the docks?

Dick: I haven't confirmed the Killer Croc sightings yet, but more importantly, our catch hasn't been measuring up to last year's. Tuna we're doing okay on, but the salmon population seems to be on the low end. I've contacted the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries but it'll be another 3-5 business days before they can come down and check it out.

Bruce: At least you're doing something to help. Jason?

Jason: Class was okay. I think the kids are warming up to me as their substitute while Mrs. Maloney is out on maternity leave. The average on the last vocabulary quiz was 83.53% so either I'm doing my job right or they need to be challenged. I'm worried about Tristan Lancy, though. He's normally a good student but his grades have been dropping recently and his parents don't seem like safe people to tell. I'll talk to him tomorrow and try to pair him up with a peer tutor if he needs it.

Bruce: Also see if he has any alternate contacts besides his parents. Tim, any updates at the chemical plant?

Tim: If by updates you mean OSHA violations, I could go on all week. We got a batch of new recruits today and they were just thrown into the work—no PPE, no safety training, nothing. This is what happens when you place production over employee well-being. I'm gonna file a complaint after this meeting. Also, I think the union will have something to say about the manager cutting people's lunch breaks short.

Bruce: I see. Damian? Please tell me you found something volunteering at the zoo.

Damian: Depends on how you define "found." While I have not obtained evidence of a mutant larvae black market, I did help some of the animals at the sanctuary make progress with their recovery. Bobo the monkey is healing from his broken arms and we're gradually getting him re-acclimated to climbing higher surfaces. Suzie the black bear was born a little prematurely but seems to be catching up to her peers in terms of growth. Lastly, we got a grant for additional wildcat research and enrichment. As an aside, we are having an educational seminar on European mountain goats this Friday at 3:30 and I expect all of you to be there.

Bruce: I'll put that on our calendars. Steph?

Steph: It's not really undercover work for me, just work. Anyway, yes the newest Batburger location is being used for money laundering. But I really need to vent about the customers for a sec. We don't open until 10 and at 9:30 this morning some moron was banging on our door demanding Jokerized cheese fries. Then right in the middle of the lunch rush, Janie got sick so I had to fill in as the cashier and it was hell. After that, I had to step in between a fight at the drive-thru because the customer claimed we only gave him nine pieces of his ten-piece Robin nuggets and tried to beat up the kid who took his order. And to top it all off, an entire high school hockey team came in five minutes before closing.

Bruce: Cass?

Cass, blowing balloons: Can't talk. Arranging bat mitzvah.

Bruce: Duke, you're my last hope.

Duke: Margie's bringing a peanut butter chocolate cake to the bake sale. I swiped her recipe and we can easily beat her. Her ganache is way too watery and just runs off the top of the cake, which isn't even leveled. She's also trying to do something with a raspberry filling that isn't working at all. It's like she couldn't decide on what to bring. The bake sale committee also asked if we can bring some apple pies because the original baker has to go out of town for a family emergency. I think we'll win if we bring them with some ice cream and a touch of caramel, even though this isn't a contest.

Bruce: Thank you. At least our most critical case has been taken care of.

Barbara: ...I'll save my book launch for later.

[stardustspell]

LA DISASTER RELIEF LINKS INCOMING!

As someone who used to live in Los Angeles, seeing footage of the devastation happening in the city is extremely heartbreaking. So many have lost their homes and still face extreme peril, including many of my dear friends.

Here's a list of organizations with boots on the ground you can contribute to if you want to help.

Donate to The Red Cross

Donate to LA Food Bank

If you're in the affected areas, consider donating the following to your local The Salvation Army:

Bandanas, work gloves, and other protective clothing items

Bottled water and other packaged drinks

Boxes, barrels, and heavy-duty plastic bags (for survivors to collect their possessions)

Cleaning items such as rags, mops, brooms, and scrub brushes

Device chargers First aid kits

Flashlights and batteries

Gently used or new work boots or rain boots

Hygiene items including soap, detergent, disinfectant, garbage bags, and hand sanitizer

Infant care items such as formula, diapers, and rash cream

Linens such as bedding and pillows

New undergarments such as underwear or socks

Nonperishable, packaged food items and snacks

PPE, including dust masks

Protective equipment such as work gloves, boots, helmets, and masks

Rebuilding supplies, including plastic tarps, nails, plywood, and hand tools

Toys and books to entertain children

Utility tools such as plastic buckets, shovels, and rakes

Donate to Direct Relief which provides supplies to healthcare providers and first responders in wildfire affected communities.

Donate to the Los Angeles Fire Department Foundation

Donate to World Central Kitchen

[ghostlyglimmer]

Lockjaw

Summary:

Missing for three weeks, Danny finally escapes, only to be found dead and taken to a funeral home. But death isn’t the end—Danny awakens on the embalming table with his jaw wired shut and terrifying new powers. Disoriented and desperate, he must find his way home, knowing nothing will ever be the same again. CW: Gore

Chapter 1: Bring me to Life

By GhostlyGlimmer

Anita Grayves stretched her back, each vertebra popping with a satisfying crack as she exhaled a long sigh. The dim, sterile light of the embalming room cast a clinical glow over her as she donned her PPE, the familiar rustle of the fabric and snap of the gloves a ritual she knew too well. Her technician, Dalton, rolled in the gurney with the next client, the wheels creaking slightly on the cold tile floor. With deliberate care, he unzipped the black body bag, revealing the still form inside.

Danny Fenton, just seventeen years old, lay before her. His once vibrant eyes, now milky white and clouded, stared unseeingly at the ceiling. The raven-black hair that had probably once been meticulously styled was now disheveled, a sharp contrast to the pallor of his skin. He was small for his age, almost fragile-looking, and Anita couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow as she gazed down at him.

But it was the Y-shaped scar on his chest that made her pause. Her brow furrowed in deep thought. She had seen countless autopsy scars in her career, but this was different. The coroner’s report had mentioned it wasn’t a typical dissection; it was a vivisection. The word sent a chill down her spine. She had heard stories, whispers of unsanctioned procedures, but she never thought she’d be the one to witness the aftermath.

Taking a deep breath, Anita began the embalming process. The familiar hum of the pump filled the room as she attached the trocar to his abdomen, starting the slow, methodical draining of blood from the body. The crimson fluid seeped out, replaced with embalming chemicals that would preserve what remained, ensuring the semblance of life for his final viewing.

With the embalming fluids circulating, she moved on to setting his face. It was important that he looked peaceful, almost as if he were merely sleeping. She began with his mouth, loading the needle injector with a barbed-tipped wire. The tool clicked as she pressed it against the maxilla, the wire piercing through the bone with precision. She repeated the process with the mandible, then twisted the wires together, securing his jaw in place. There would be no risk of it coming loose during the funeral, sparing his family the distress of seeing him slack-jawed in the casket.

Next were his eyes. Anita carefully pulled back his eyelids, reaching for the eye caps—small, clear discs with barbed spikes on the inside. They would help his eyes maintain a natural, slightly closed appearance, preventing the sunken look that so often accompanied death. She was inches away from placing them on his clouded eyes when her stomach let out a loud grumble.

“Damn it,” she muttered, the sudden urge reminding her of the coffee she had downed earlier.

Reluctantly, she pushed back her rolling chair, the casters scraping against the tile. She stripped off her PPE, each piece coming off with a practiced flick, and headed for the bathroom. The small, clinical space echoed with the sound of her footsteps as she entered, the door clicking shut behind her. She hurried through her business, then paused at the sink, methodically scrubbing her hands. As she looked up into the mirror, her reflection stared back at her—haggard, with dark circles etched under her tired eyes. She grimaced, making a mental note to try and get some sleep tonight.

Just as she turned off the faucet, the lights flickered, followed by a low, otherworldly groan that seemed to reverberate through the walls. Anita froze, her heart skipping a beat. It was a sound unlike anything she had heard before—something between a wail and a whisper, as if the air itself was being torn apart. A chill ran down her spine, and she stood there, paralyzed, staring at her own reflection, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

Ȃ̵̢̡͕̲͍̺̬̩̪̯͖̝̤̱̖̮̼̝͎̭͇̖̥̫̒̈́̔̃̎̄̌̿̍͘̕͝A̵̡̨̙͇͚̥̦͚͙̘̝̤͎͙͒̽̃̒́́͛̉̂͋͝ͅÄ̶̧̨̢̛̛͖̭̠̤͈͈̘͔̣͔̱͇̱̜̯͎͚͍̩͚̺̦̜͑̑̓͂͋͌̄͜͠͠͝Ą̴̧̢̢̧̢̝̱̻̥̹̖͕̦̠̬͙̭̜̣̱͓͚̗̗̬̮̙̤̲͇̟͚̣̜̜̼̹̻̮͇̟̤̹̩̬͕͖̖͙̤́̈́̓́̾ͅͅA̷̧̡̢̨̧̩͙̥̥̘̘͚̞̣̮̣̯̮͔͚͈̤͙̦͈͕͙̣̳̝͈̩͙͇̲̳͈͈͖͙̦̥͈̗̠̖̣̐̇̇̆͒͂͗̃̾̀̆̈́̽͆̆̕̚Ą̷̧̨̥̠̦͙͍̘̬̥̘͕̦͚̫̣̱̤͎̹̰̣̥̰̥̟̘̜̗̪̫̘̤̱̈́́͐̌͛̄̀͆́̓͂͛̈́̇̉͜͝͠Ą̸̢̡̞̻̪͎͔͕̠̗̖͈̲̯͓̜̝̭̼͎̟͕̀̌̀̈́̑̏̑͐́̋̄͌̏́̈́͋̈́̊̋̓̓̀̏̏̀͝͝ͅA̷̧̡̧̧̛̛̠̘̻̮̱̦̠̦̣̫̩̬͚̦̳̮͙͎̞̞̗̮̩̩̪͓̩̻̪̱̰͉̼̮̞͖̒͋͐́͒͗̒̋̑͂̅̎̾̀̓̔̋̇̈́͑̆͐̌͌̑̌̋̅̔͘̕̚͝ͅA̴̛̛̛͙̮͌̌̅̀̊̅́̉̈́͆̅͑̐̏̄͆̈͗̒͐̓́̀͊̆̔̅̄͂͊̃̍̽̈́̊͌̀̿͛̓̈́͗̆̓͋̈̑̚̚͝͠͝͝À̷̢̧̡̢̙̪̰̮̼͙̣̜̭̦̞͓̩̝̣̙͕̞͙̳͇̦͉̼̜̠͈͔̰̺̟̜̳͍͚̥̺̫̈́͛̾̌̊́̿͊̈́̑̓͌̕̕͝ͅA̷̧̨̧̧̧͍̦̖̖̭̪̭̞̦̹͎͈͕̖̮̙͇̪̥̣͕̪̫͓͙̖̜̙͍͉̭̺̘̰̞̰̯͓̔̐̂͋͋̀̓̍̓̉͑̇͊̊̃̈́̌̅͑͆̍̑̋͑̍̔̂̒̀͗͌̇̂̆̈́̂́̈́̉̀͗́̐͛̇͆̂̀͂̔͐͛́̈́̉̃̕͘͝͝͝͝ͅĄ̷̥̗͕̙͍̭̠̮́̈̀͗̈̏̅̓̓̄̈͆̄̈́̃̌͒̓͑͐̉̔̉́͗̌̍͆́̍̆̕̚͘͜��A̷̧̙͓̫͚͐͐̉̈́̾̍̇́͋̎̆͒̆͒̋̌̕Ą̵̨̡̧̧̢̢͓̯̤̹͙̘͈̹̭̥̪̬͕̜̦̠̻͓̫̤͈̜̣̲͙̬̦̣̺̖̞̗͎̙̙̩̯͍̱̥̝̖̅̀̋͊̇̉̔̈́̈́͗̇͗̈́͋̇̆͐͌̽̓̾̀̀̀̏͒̑̉̔͂̚͜͜͜ͅͅA̸̧̡̨̡̢̻̜͓͚͖̞͚̜̞̙̻̥̠̞̰͔̠̗͎̝̖͇̳̎̀̄̌̒̓͒̐̎̚͠Ạ̴̧̢̫̣̻̬̮̙̫̯̪̙̻͈̟̪̳̅͆͗̌̓̒̍͗̅͊́̏̃͐͑̃́͆̒̍̓̍̈̔͑̾̽̽̐͗̂̑̋́͌̚̕͝͠͠͠Å̵̧̨̢̡̛̯̻̬̻͈̩̹̜͓͎̣̜̥͔̜̩̟̞͓͓̠̬̬̟̜͓͓̲̻͚̟̦͇͓̰͕̲̝̳̺͕̝̭̣͕͈̥̲̪͎͎̻̟͚̖̋͋̀̋́́̊̎̐̀͊̑̊̾̓̈͛͒̄̊̀̕̚͜͠͝ͅͅA̶̛̛͕͈̻̺̲̤̳̖̋̓̀͋́͗̀͒̃̈́̉̅̉̉͑͑̋̅̃͒̎͋̎̏́̓͌̆͋ͅȦ̵͖̪̘͛̋͒͠͝ͅĄ̴̧̨̢̛̦̱̦̺̩̞̟̲̻̬͈̪̖̬̯̝̝̲̰̣̩̯̫͈̫̪̜̳͇̮͖̪̱̠̹̤̰͓̭͕̥̹̣̀̅̉̒̃̽͊̆̊̈́̄̐͌́̓̾̓̍̌͑̓͌͊̾̊̂͒͌̀̔͒̕͘͘͘͜͜͝͠͝ͅÄ̶̢̢̱̯̰̟̙͇͔̰̗̜̦̤̪̟̞̪͍̞̟̠̰̗̬̖͎͓̰̫́̈́̊̈́̒A̷̧̢̢̛̹͇̩͎͎̥̱͔͉̞͍͕̠̮͔̭̪͔̜̜̘̰̞͇̱̙͖̮̞̖͉͚̯̟͙̞̫̭͔̰̞͙̗̱̹̺̰͖̭̮͚̪̩͒͑̽̉̋̔͗͗̃̊̀̽̾̿̒̍͗͑̇̅̒͛̈́́̍̿̒̾̊͋́̃̃̈́͂̔̀͐̿̆͌̑̐̀̚͜͝͠ͅͅA̴̡̢̢̧̡̧̛̯͔̭̝̪̰̳̭͚̗̣̼͕̗̟͈͔̩͖̪̖̪͈̝͉̭̭̝̳̘̠̬̩̰̳̳͍̘̫̪̓̀̾̉́̿͂̓̾̎́͐͑̄̉̿̈̍̅̎̏̈́̓͘͝͝͝͠͠͠͠ͅA̶̙͇͎̤̓̿͗́̄̔̆͋̋͆̒̔͐́̽̄͒̎̏͛̂̅̒̋̽̈̋͂͐͐̎̅̌̋̾͑͌͋͐͘̕̕͝͝Ḁ̶̧̡̨̡̢̛̛̰̫̰͓͍̥̝̤̤͕̟̬͕̺͔̻̯̗̠̺̯̬̲̠̳̗͇͇̖̳̙͈͖͕͚͖̖̟̻͉̼̈̈͆̉͊̃̐́̎̊̌́̆̓͆̈̉́̅̆͌͐̽͌̀͒̽̌̿͐̀̽̈́́͋̑̕͘̚͜͜͠͝͝͠ͅA̷̡̨̢̛͕̟̜̰̼͔̠͉͈̼̫͚̟͈̻̖͛̍̍̇̑̐̓̓̀͠Ą̷̱̲̱̳̦͔̥̼̠͕̠̟͎̣̘̮͉̖̗̙̗̞̣̟̈́̾̽̿̍͌̚͘͜͠A̴̡̛̹̗̥̯͇̥̙̣̙̜̰̪̰̘͈͐̌̃̓̌̾̿̃̈͒͋̃̐͒̔̍̈́̓͑̓́̔̔̒͂̐̉̀͋͆͌͂̾͘͘͝͝͠͠Ā̶̡̛̛̖̳̟͕͖̻̲͓̦͈͓͚͈̺͍͙̲̗̒̐̍̂̆͋̈̃͑̽̉̓̃̇͘Ą̴̨̛̣͓̞̪̱̰̜͂̏̀̆͒̀̿͆̑͊̿̈́̑͋̀̌̾̀̈́̾̽̈̈́͐͊̀̒̈́̇͒̈́̀̐̌͒͋͌͊̉̂͒̄̒̇̇̐̕͘͘͘͠͝͝͝͝͝Ā̷̛̛̬͙̠͉̰̼̼̦͉͕̤͈͙̯̈́̿̅̊̋̽̈́̓͌̈́̏͋̍͌͑̆́̄̂̍̿̉̑̈́͊̀͐̈́͋́͆̌̉̀̔̂̍̍̾́̔̕̚̕̕͜͜͝͝A̷̡̧̡̢̨̡̡̢̢̘͉̭̠̖͈̠̭̖̞̭̞͎̤͚͕͔͖͚͇͇̯̟̝̪̖̦͙͙͇̳̪̼̮̫̥̲̲̙͔̟̭͈̺̺͚̬̱͓̠͒̎́̒͐͋͒͂̍̈́̅̐̇͜͜͠Ą̷̢̡̢̢̛̲̝͉͓̺͉̣͇͖̺̜̝̗̹̥̩͎͔͕̦͉͍̜͉͔̫̟̥͓̯̬̖̣͙͍̭͇͔̱̺͈͈̱͗̓��̒̐͂̓̿͒͊̓̌̅̈́̉̅̓̎̈́̎͗̈́̍̌̒̂̈́̋̐͋̓̆́́̈̇̂͐̔͘̕͝͝A̴̢̡̛̭͈̺̥͇͓̟̻͔̪͇̝̰̱̮͇̦͕̞͙̘̤̻̺̐̎̇̉̓́̐͂́̀͌̽̋̒̀̋͊̀̾͒̓̇̽̂́͛̓̀̓̄̉́̅̀̾͒͌̈́̐͐̑̈́͒́̌̈́̿̽̾̃̽̀͋͛͘͜À̶̡̧̧̨̨̛̛̮̹͓̥̠̱̱̯̪̹̹̮̳͔̞̫̗̹̘͙͙̝̘̳̠̠̳̱̺̗̳̬̰̤̩̖͙̬̥͔̬͈̭̳̬̻̼̐̎͌͆̎̈́̀͆͌̒̅̾͂̋̍̏̈́͛͆̓̊͐͊̄̀̂͐̽̓̍͊͆̚̚̕͜͠͠͝͝Ą̷̧̛̛̛̛͈͖̞͓̱̦̬̣̭̗͍̤̣̦̯̪̹̘̟̙͈̼̬͑̿͊̈͑͛͒͗̑̀͆̏̒̓̃̊̏̐̉̿̄͒̂͛̈̀̂̈͋̀͗̃̆̏̾̏͐̂͂̊̈́̏̐̉͆̂̍̓̚͘̚͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅͅÁ̴̡̢̧̢̩̰͔̰͈͖̬̯̱̙̱̣̭̟͇͙̦̭̣̱͉͇͚̗͌͋͘͜Ä̵̧̛̝̘̼͇̬̭̼̬̠̞̩̩̜̤̰͙͔̼̬̟̟̫͓̥͇̱͕̦̜͙͚̪͚̩̱̟̗̥͙͇̩̞̬̞̗̥̻̘͓̹̻̰̫̙̯̗̹̹́̐͐̎̇̿͗̊͂̏́̂̋̀͆̆̾̄͑͑̽̌̈́̄͋͋̈̂̆̐̀́͌́̎̋̅͘͜͝͝͝͝͠ͅA̷̧̢̡͇̣͈̥̻̗͓͈͖͔̭̩̪͎͍̻̥̝͈̝̭̤͍̘̺̥̲͉̰̦͓̫͇͓͙͙̣̼̫͇͛̋͒͐̄́̔̓͐̅͒͆̏̅̎̇́̚̚͜͜͜ͅ

Anita jolted at the horrific sound, the air around her vibrating with an unnatural, bone-chilling resonance. Her hands flew to her ears in a desperate attempt to block out the noise, but it was too late. A searing pain shot through her head, her vision darkening as her eyes rolled back. She crumpled to the cold, sterile floor, her body limp, blood trickling from her ears and pooling beneath her head in a dark, crimson stain.

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton’s eyes shot open in terror. His pupils contracted painfully against the blinding fluorescence of the room, his breath catching in his throat. His mind, sluggish and disoriented, struggled to make sense of what was happening. His hands moved instinctively to his face, rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase a bad dream.

But this was no dream.

As his vision cleared, he looked around, taking in the stark white walls and the cold steel surfaces of the embalming room. The air was thick with the acrid scent of formaldehyde, stinging his nose and making him gag. Panic surged through him as he realized he was completely naked, save for a thin cloth draped haphazardly over his waist.

But it was when his gaze fell on his chest that the true horror set in.

There, etched into his skin, was a large, brutal Y-shaped scar, stretching from his shoulders to his pubic bone. The sight of it made his stomach churn. His face contorted in terror, a scream tearing from his throat, raw and primal. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, each one more desperate than the last, as he clutched his head in his hands, trying to comprehend the impossible. The room seemed to close in around him, the sterile environment suffocating, the silence after his scream deafening.

Danny was alive—but something was horribly, irrevocably wrong.

Ȃ̵̢̡͕̲͍̺̬̩̪̯͖̝̤̱̖̮̼̝͎̭͇̖̥̫̒̈́̔̃̎̄̌̿̍͘̕͝A̵̡̨̙͇͚̥̦͚͙̘̝̤͎͙͒̽̃̒́́͛̉̂͋͝ͅÄ̶̧̨̢̛̛͖̭̠̤͈͈̘͔̣͔̱͇̱̜̯͎͚͍̩͚̺̦̜͑̑̓͂͋͌̄͜͠͠͝Ą̴̧̢̢̧̢̝̱̻̥̹̖͕̦̠̬͙̭̜̣̱͓͚̗̗̬̮̙̤̲͇̟͚̣̜̜̼̹̻̮͇̟̤̹̩̬͕͖̖͙̤́̈́̓́̾ͅͅA̷̧̡̢̨̧̩͙̥̥̘̘͚̞̣̮̣̯̮͔͚͈̤͙̦͈͕͙̣̳̝͈̩͙͇̲̳͈͈͖͙̦̥͈̗̠̖̣̐̇̇̆͒͂͗̃̾̀̆̈́̽͆̆̕̚Ą̷̧̨̥̠̦͙͍̘̬̥̘͕̦͚̫̣̱̤͎̹̰̣̥̰̥̟̘̜̗̪̫̘̤̱̈́́͐̌͛̄̀͆́̓͂͛̈́̇̉͜͝͠Ą̸̢̡̞̻̪͎͔͕̠̗̖͈̲̯͓̜̝̭̼͎̟͕̀̌̀̈́̑̏̑͐́̋̄͌̏́̈́͋̈́̊̋̓̓̀̏̏̀͝͝ͅA̷̧̡̧̧̛̛̠̘̻̮̱̦̠̦̣̫̩̬͚̦̳̮͙͎̞̞̗̮̩̩̪͓̩̻̪̱̰͉̼̮̞͖̒͋͐́͒͗̒̋̑͂̅̎̾̀̓̔̋̇̈́͑̆͐̌͌̑̌̋̅̔͘̕̚͝ͅA̴̛̛̛͙̮͌̌̅̀̊̅́̉̈́͆̅͑̐̏̄͆̈͗̒͐̓́̀͊̆̔̅̄͂͊̃̍̽̈́̊͌̀̿͛̓̈́͗̆̓͋̈̑̚̚͝͠͝͝À̷̢̧̡̢̙̪̰̮̼͙̣̜̭̦̞͓̩̝̣̙͕̞͙̳͇̦͉̼̜̠͈͔̰̺̟̜̳͍͚̥̺̫̈́͛̾̌̊́̿͊̈́̑̓͌̕̕͝ͅA̷̧̨̧̧̧͍̦̖̖̭̪̭̞̦̹͎͈͕̖̮̙͇̪̥̣͕̪̫͓͙̖̜̙͍͉̭̺̘̰̞̰̯͓̔̐̂͋͋̀̓̍̓̉͑̇͊̊̃̈́̌̅͑͆̍̑̋͑̍̔̂̒̀͗͌̇̂̆̈́̂́̈́̉̀͗́̐͛̇͆̂̀͂̔͐͛́̈́̉̃̕͘͝͝͝͝ͅĄ̷̥̗͕̙͍̭̠̮́̈̀͗̈̏̅̓̓̄̈͆̄̈́̃̌͒̓͑͐̉̔̉́͗̌̍͆́̍̆̕̚͘͜͝A̷̧̙͓̫͚͐͐̉̈́̾̍̇́͋̎̆͒̆͒̋̌̕Ą̵̨̡̧̧̢̢͓̯̤̹͙̘͈̹̭̥̪̬͕̜̦̠̻͓̫̤͈̜̣̲͙̬̦̣̺̖̞̗͎̙̙̩̯͍̱̥̝̖̅̀̋͊̇̉̔̈́̈́͗̇͗̈́͋̇̆͐͌̽̓̾̀̀̀̏͒̑̉̔͂̚͜͜͜ͅͅA̸̧̡̨̡̢̻̜͓͚͖̞͚̜̞̙̻̥̠̞̰͔̠̗͎̝̖͇̳̎̀̄̌̒̓͒̐̎̚͠Ạ̴̧̢̫̣̻̬̮̙̫̯̪̙̻͈̟̪̳̅͆͗̌̓̒̍͗̅͊́̏̃͐͑̃́͆̒̍̓̍̈̔͑̾̽̽̐͗̂̑̋́͌̚̕͝͠͠͠Å̵̧̨̢̡̛̯̻̬̻͈̩̹̜͓͎̣̜̥͔̜̩̟̞͓͓̠̬̬̟̜͓͓̲̻͚̟̦͇͓̰͕̲̝̳̺͕̝̭̣͕͈̥̲̪͎͎̻̟͚̖̋͋̀̋́́̊̎̐̀͊̑̊̾̓̈͛͒̄̊̀̕̚͜͠͝ͅͅA̶̛̛͕͈̻̺̲̤̳̖̋̓̀͋́͗̀͒̃̈́̉̅̉̉͑͑̋̅̃͒̎͋̎̏́̓͌̆͋ͅȦ̵͖̪̘͛̋͒͠͝ͅĄ̴̧̨̢̛̦̱̦̺̩̞̟̲̻̬͈̪̖̬̯̝̝̲̰̣̩̯̫͈̫̪̜̳͇̮͖̪̱̠̹̤̰͓̭͕̥̹̣̀̅̉̒̃̽͊̆̊̈́̄̐͌́̓̾̓̍̌͑̓͌͊̾̊̂͒͌̀̔͒̕͘͘͘͜͜͝͠͝ͅÄ̶̢̢̱̯̰̟̙͇͔̰̗̜̦̤̪̟̞̪͍̞̟̠̰̗̬̖͎͓̰̫́̈́̊̈́̒A̷̧̢̢̛̹͇̩͎͎̥̱͔͉̞͍͕̠̮͔̭̪͔̜̜̘̰̞͇̱̙͖̮̞̖͉͚̯̟͙̞̫̭͔̰̞͙̗̱̹̺̰͖̭̮͚̪̩͒͑̽̉̋̔͗͗̃̊̀̽̾̿̒̍͗͑̇̅̒͛̈́́̍̿̒̾̊͋́̃̃̈́͂̔̀͐̿̆͌̑̐̀̚͜͝͠ͅͅA̴̡̢̢̧̡̧̛̯͔̭̝̪̰̳̭͚̗̣̼͕̗̟͈͔̩͖̪̖̪͈̝͉̭̭̝̳̘̠̬̩̰̳̳͍̘̫̪̓̀̾̉́̿͂̓̾̎́͐͑̄̉̿̈̍̅̎̏̈́̓͘͝͝͝͠͠͠͠ͅA̶̙͇͎̤̓̿͗́̄̔̆͋̋͆̒̔͐́̽̄͒̎̏͛̂̅̒̋̽̈̋͂͐͐̎̅̌̋̾͑͌͋͐͘̕̕͝͝Ḁ̶̧̡̨̡̢̛̛̰̫̰͓͍̥̝̤̤͕̟̬͕̺͔̻̯̗̠̺̯̬̲̠̳̗͇͇̖̳̙͈͖͕͚͖̖̟̻͉̼̈̈͆̉͊̃̐́̎̊̌́̆̓͆̈̉́̅̆͌͐̽͌̀͒̽̌̿͐̀̽̈́́͋̑̕͘̚͜͜͠͝͝͠ͅA̷̡̨̢̛͕̟̜̰̼͔̠͉͈̼̫͚̟͈̻̖͛̍̍̇̑̐̓̓̀͠Ą̷̱̲̱̳̦͔̥̼̠͕̠̟͎̣̘̮͉̖̗̙̗̞̣̟̈́̾̽̿̍͌̚͘͜͠A̴̡̛̹̗̥̯͇̥̙̣̙̜̰̪̰̘͈͐̌̃̓̌̾̿̃̈͒͋̃̐͒̔̍̈́̓͑̓́̔̔̒͂̐̉̀͋͆͌͂̾͘͘͝͝͠͠Ā̶̡̛̛̖̳̟͕͖̻̲͓̦͈͓͚͈̺͍͙̲̗̒̐̍̂̆͋̈̃͑̽̉̓̃̇͘Ą̴̨̛̣͓̞̪̱̰̜͂̏̀̆͒̀̿͆̑͊̿̈́̑͋̀̌̾̀̈́̾̽̈̈́͐͊̀̒̈́̇͒̈́̀̐̌͒͋͌͊̉̂͒̄̒̇̇̐̕͘͘͘͠͝͝͝͝͝Ā̷̛̛̬͙̠͉̰̼̼̦͉͕̤͈͙̯̈́̿̅̊̋̽̈́̓͌̈́̏͋̍͌͑̆́̄̂̍̿̉̑̈́͊̀͐̈́͋́͆̌̉̀̔̂̍̍̾́̔̕̚̕̕͜͜͝͝A̷̡̧̡̢̨̡̡̢̢̘͉̭̠̖͈̠̭̖̞̭̞͎̤͚͕͔͖͚͇͇̯̟̝̪̖̦͙͙͇̳̪̼̮̫̥̲̲̙͔̟̭͈̺̺͚̬̱͓̠͒̎́̒͐͋͒͂̍̈́̅̐̇͜͜͠Ą̷̢̡̢̢̛̲̝͉͓̺͉̣͇͖̺̜̝̗̹̥̩͎͔͕̦͉͍̜͉͔̫̟̥͓̯̬̖̣͙͍̭͇͔̱̺͈͈̱͗̓̽̒̐͂̓̿͒͊̓̌̅̈́̉̅̓̎̈́̎͗̈́̍̌̒̂̈́̋̐͋̓̆́́̈̇̂͐̔͘̕͝͝A̴̢̡̛̭͈̺̥͇͓̟̻͔̪͇̝̰̱̮͇̦͕̞͙̘̤̻̺̐̎̇̉̓́̐͂́̀͌̽̋̒̀̋͊̀̾͒̓̇̽̂́͛̓̀̓̄̉́̅̀̾͒͌̈́̐͐̑̈́͒́̌̈́̿̽̾̃̽̀͋͛͘͜À̶̡̧̧̨̨̛̛̮̹͓̥̠̱̱̯̪̹̹̮̳͔̞̫̗̹̘͙͙̝̘̳̠̠̳̱̺̗̳̬̰̤̩̖͙̬̥͔̬͈̭̳̬̻̼̐̎͌͆̎̈́̀͆͌̒̅̾͂̋̍̏̈́͛͆̓̊͐͊̄̀̂͐̽̓̍͊͆̚̚̕͜͠͠͝͝Ą̷̧̛̛̛̛͈͖̞͓̱̦̬̣̭̗͍̤̣̦̯̪̹̘̟̙͈̼̬͑̿͊̈͑͛͒͗̑̀͆̏̒̓̃̊̏̐̉̿̄͒̂͛̈̀̂̈͋̀͗̃̆̏̾̏͐̂͂̊̈́̏̐̉͆̂̍̓̚͘̚͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅͅÁ̴̡̢̧̢̩̰͔̰͈͖̬̯̱̙̱̣̭̟͇͙̦̭̣̱͉͇͚̗͌͋͘͜Ä̵̧̛̝̘̼͇̬̭̼̬̠̞̩̩̜̤̰͙͔̼̬̟̟̫͓̥͇̱͕̦̜͙͚̪͚̩̱̟̗̥͙͇̩̞̬̞̗̥̻̘͓̹̻̰̫̙̯̗̹̹́̐͐̎̇̿͗̊͂̏́̂̋̀͆̆̾̄͑͑̽̌̈́̄͋͋̈̂̆̐̀́͌́̎̋̅͘͜͝͝͝͝͠ͅA̷̧̢̡͇̣͈̥̻̗͓͈͖͔̭̩̪͎͍̻̥̝͈̝̭̤͍̘̺̥̲͉̰̦͓̫͇͓͙͙̣̼̫͇͛̋͒͐̄́̔̓͐̅͒͆̏̅̎̇́̚̚͜͜͜ͅ

As Danny’s scream echoed in the sterile room, he froze, realizing something was terribly wrong with his voice. It wasn’t his voice. It was distorted, hollow, like a death rattle echoing from the depths of a crypt. The sound made his skin crawl, every hair on his body standing on end. It was the kind of voice that belonged to something not of this world—something dead. He slapped his hands over his mouth, horrified, tears welling up in his cloudy white eyes.

He felt something hard under his lips and pulled them open, trembling fingers probing inside his mouth. His breath hitched when he encountered metal wires, woven cruelly through his teeth. Panic surged through him, and he tried to wrench his jaw open, but it wouldn’t budge. A sharp, searing pain shot through his skull, and he winced, the realization of his confinement crashing down on him.

Tears streamed down his face, his entire body quaking with fear and confusion. Sobs wracked his fragile form, the reality of his situation suffocating him. This couldn’t be happening—this had to be a nightmare. What the hell was going on? Why was he connected to this machine? Why was there a grotesque wound carved into his chest? And why, oh God, why was his jaw wired shut?

His mind spiraled, grasping desperately for memories, for anything that could explain this horror. But everything was a blur, a foggy haze that clouded his thoughts. He couldn’t think straight, his head pounding with the effort of trying to piece together the fragments of his shattered memory.

But through the chaos, one thought pierced the fog: he needed help. He needed to find his family, his friends. He clung to the memory of them like a lifeline, the only clear images in his fractured mind. Sam and Tucker—they would know what to do. They had always been there for him, through every strange and terrifying moment of his life. If anyone could help him make sense of this nightmare, it was them. He had to find them. He had to get out of here.

[nebraskas]

4/26/24 Nebraska/IA Tornadoes

a continuously updated list of resources

last updated 4/27/24 at 8:13 AM CST; find how to help those affected at the bottom

All

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

If you are disabled and impacted by tornadoes, call Disability & Disaster Hotline 800-626-4959 or email hotline@disasterstrategies.org (per The Partnership for Inclusive Disaster Strategies on X)

Nebraska Humane Society can house animals that need emergency shelter. Contact Animal Control at 402-444-7800 ext. 1. (per NE Humane Society on X)

Footage

Images and videos from across the storm's path.

Bennington

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

Three Timbers Church - S 2nd and Warehouse Street, St. John's Lutheran Church - N Molly Street and Howard Lane, and City Hall - 156th Street and Warehouse Street are all locations to find assistance. (per KETV7)

Clean Up

13505 N. 216th St. in Bennington needs to keep several things in mind:

The landfill will be open 6 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Saturday.

Green debris limbs must be cut into pieces 4 feet or smaller.

Debris can be mixed.

Home appliances and hazardous materials are not accepted.

(per KETV7)

Blair

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

The Red Cross has set up a location at First Lutheran Church at 2146 Wright Street (per KETV7)

Elkhorn

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

A Facebook page where people are offering resources

Common Ground Recreation Center at 1701 Veterans Drive will serve as an overnight shelter for those affected and pets. (per KETV7)

Anyone needing relief or assistance due to the storms, St. Patrick’s at 204th and Maple Street is your go to. Do not go for unrelated reasons. (per Omaha Scanner on X)

Command Post has moved to 204th and West Maple in St Patrick’s Church parking lot. Media staging is now at the Walgreens parking lot at 202 W Maple (per OPD on X)

Currently there is a reunification center being established at Elkhorn Middle School located at 3200 N 207th street for parents. (per Douglas County 911 on X)

PETS: PetSmart Veterinary Services is at the Walgreens at 202nd and Maple in Elkhorn for pet triage and stabilizing services for animals needing care from tornado injuries. (per Brian Beech on X)

Clean Up

Pheasant Point Landfill as a debris drop-off location, closes at 3 PM today (per KETV7)

Damage

Residents who have suffered damage to their homes in today's severe weather event should call 2-1-1 or go online at http://dogis.org/211 to make a report. (per Douglas County on X)

Omaha

Aid/Assistance/Reunification

Heartland Hope Mission has two locations in west and south O that offer help. West - 15555 Industrial Road, South - 2021 U Street (per KETV7)

How to Help

NE Humane Society is taking food and litter donations at 8929 Fort Street; also accepting monetary donations. (per NE Humane Society on X)

On 4/27/24 at 7:30 AM there will be a meeting at Relevant Church 21220 Elkhorn Drive held by Rapid Response America to help with disaster relief. Bring your own PPE (gloves, long sleeved shirts, closed toed shoes) and you will have to sign a waiver. More info here.

A Facebook page where people can offer help

My City Church is partnering with other area churches to offer assistance. It's asking for volunteers to help in a variety of ways:

Meet at the Relevant center at 212th Street and West Maple Road at 7:30 a.m. Saturday. Volunteers are asked to bring chainsaws, trucks, trailers, shovels, rakes, brooms, garbage bags, etc. to help clean up

Meet at Brookside Elkhorn Campus at 9 a.m. Saturday. Volunteers need to bring necessary tools and work gloves.

(per KETV7)

[ersatz-ostrich]

On the Scene

RK900 x gn!Detective!Reader

Lt. Hank Anderson and Det. Connor Anderson are on the scene of a grisly murder. They have some investigating to do, and not just into the scene of the homicide that you and Richard were first called to inspect.

A/N: phew! first real post in a while. DBH has a chokehold on me and I have no idea how it happened (I haven't even gotten the game yet—I'm waiting for it to go on sale). That being said, hope this isn't too OOC! I was inspired to write this by the one scene in A Study in Pink from BBC's Sherlock. I messed around with the scene so the dialogue isn't a carbon copy, though.

Yes, I settled on calling Nines Richard (I'm indecisive). Hank calls him Nines as a nickname of sorts.

warnings: implied sexual references, sorely lacking in beta reading

read here on ao3

Cold, damp nights like these were not entirely uncommon in Detroit. If anything, they were a part of the city’s branding. 

After all of his years in the God-forsaken city, Lieutenant Hank Anderson knew at least that much. 

His CD player blasting heavy metal, he slowed his aging car to a stop on the side of a residential street in a more tasteful stretch of Detroit. Police cruisers and personnel crowded the street already narrowed with cars parked beside the curb on each side. The house in question was cast in the blue and red light of the cruisers’ beacons, an adequate welcome for those who chose to step inside. 

Hank eased himself out of the driver’s seat and into the chilly air, groaning as his joints protested. His partner Connor, ever so enthusiastic when it came to work, exited from the other side and followed Hank with quick, precise strides until they reached the yellow holographic police tape set up around the crime scene. 

“Hello, Lieutenant, Detective.” The duo was greeted by the stoic face of Richard, the DPD’s RK900 investigator android, who was just about as close to a brother that Connor, the RK800, had. His fair complexion was bathed in the flashing lights of the squad cars and spotlights that had been set up around the scene, but he seemed to pay no mind to the glare.

“Nines.” Hank grunted. “We’re here to see Detective L/N.” Richard raised a perfect brow, his expression set with feigned intrigue. 

“Why?” Hank chuckled.

“We were invited, why else?”

“Is that so?” A grin inched its way onto Hank’s grizzled face.

“I think they want us to take a look at some evidence. Think it might be related to our red ice case. That’s why you made the call, didn’t ya?” Richard cracked a small half-smile. 

“Right as always, Lieutenant. It seems like your investigative skills have stayed sharp after all these years.” Hank barked out a laugh as he and Connor crossed through the holographic boundary. Just as they passed by the RK900, Hank stopped abruptly, wrinkling his nose. 

“Lieutenant?” Connor inquired from beside him. 

“It’s nothin’, son.” It didn’t sound like nothing to Connor—not that he voiced that notion, anyways. From behind their turned backs, Richard’s LED flashed red momentarily. 

They were making their way up the front porch steps when you appeared in the doorway in your CSI jumpsuit and PPE, fiddling with your gloves. 

“Hey, Anderson, so nice of you to finally come.” You greeted the pair with a smile. “Careful with the evidence back there, don’t want to get it contaminated with Sumo’s fur or something. Richard thinks it might be of some help with your red ice case.” 

“You didn’t make it home last night, did ‘ya?” The smile disappeared from your face. That wasn’t the response you had been expecting.

“I’m sorry?”

“Tell me, L/N, did ‘ya at least get someone to feed your cats?” He watched your expression, brows raised with skepticism. “C’mon. You can do a little better than hiding that hickey under your PPE.” He gestured loosely at the collar of your jumpsuit. Your hand instinctively went to the bruise that you knew was blooming underneath the fabric. 

“What—”

“And you, Nines!” Hank called out to Richard, who was just crossing the front yard to join the conversation.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me, Lieutenant?” Richard’s expression and composure were practically free of tics and tells—one of the benefits of being an android, deviant or not, Hank supposed. Richard tilted his head with bemusement.

“Oh, don’t play dumb. Say, are ‘ya trying out some new scent for androids? Smells a lot like L/N’s deodorant if you ask me.”

“Y/N and I spent the night at the precinct,” Richard answered quickly. “We were looking over evidence early this morning when the homicide was called in. They offered me their coat when it began to rain because—”

“Yeah, ‘cause androids don’t like getting their clothes wet after just getting ‘em from the Cyberlife dry cleaners,” he drawled. “Funny that the knees of your slacks are so banged up, Nines. Maybe you should bring ‘em back.”

“Hank, whatever you’re trying to imply—”

“I know, kid, I know. Also, you two are on a first name basis now? Geez, did I miss something while I was on holiday?”

“Hank...” Your voice dripped with exasperation. “Just inspect the damn crime scene, will you?”

“Alright, alright,” Hank waved you off and stepped into the house. “But I’m expecting a wedding invitation by next spring, y’hear?”

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

[A/N]: So, yeah, I don't know jack about DBH or BBC's Sherlock...well, reading the BBC's Sherlock manga counts as interacting with the source material, right?

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading x

[dendrophalaen]

my thoughts on godzilla minus one

tl;dr i had a religious experience (positive) and it may be my new favorite godzilla movie

i'm going to try to organize my thoughts lmao i have never done a film analysis or review

story

i went in knowing next to nothing, so i was very afraid this was going to be heavy on the imperialist propaganda and reminiscing on the "good old days" of the japanese military

however i was pleasantly surprised to see that it was quite anti-government :]

loved the delivery of the themes of "all lives being precious" and "living on for yourself as well as for the sake of others" – not hammy or blunt!

FORESHADOWING OF THE EJECTION SEAT? chef's KISS we love picking up what the movie is putting down and getting to see the payoff

speaking of foreshadowing:

dr. noda: [takes noriko's picture]

me: oh no she's going to die

i spent like the last quarter of the movie with a headache because i was clenching my teeth and holding in tears after noriko's death ("death") AND koichi planning to blow himself up and orphan akiko

and all the ex-navy guys rallying together to defeat godzilla

i am not immune to classic story beats

semi-related i thought noriko would be covered in radiation burns, but then i realized a depiction of that would probably be insensitive

also the guys measuring radiation in plastic costs? come on now i know we weren't fully educated in the risks of radiation but there must've been some sort of better ppe

characters

i enjoyed like every character which is rare for me in a godzilla film

koichi just can't catch a break. this man gained so much trauma in a short amount of time, like he doesn't have ptsd because the trauma is ONGOING. i think he's my favorite and it's very easy to root for him

his introduction is of him as a shaky baby-faced pilot and then you find out he was supposed to be a kamikaze pilot like goddamn

i liked noriko's assertiveness ("hey i'm staying in your house now :)") and her ability to see kindness in koichi and sumiko

her struggle of wanting to become independent is very relatable. you could see the bittersweetness in her eyes showing that she felt guilty yet grateful for koichi's support........

i was surprised how quickly sumiko agreed to taking care of akiko? but it makes sense since she was (is) a mother and could not bear to see another child suffer, and akiko gave her life a new purpose

i would've liked more focus on the female characters and i don't think it's fair to just blame it on the era :playdead:

i really liked the chemistry between dr. noda, captain akitsu, and mizushima

dr. noda in particular felt like a nice foil/parallel to serizawa from the 1954 movie; he's also a scientist but he's much more personable(?)/"human"

dr. serizawa was my favorite in 1954 but he was very anguished and set on making reparations by killing godzilla (and koichi could be a parallel to him in that regard)

noda focused on protecting the living, not avenging the dead

ough mizushima. being a Youth who feels useless sure hits home

i'd say tachibana is my least favorite just by comparison to everyone else, but he's honestly so valid for his whole deal

visuals and sound

very elegant color grading, costuming, and set design!

i don't know film girl help

GOOD SOUNDTRACK the music set the scenes so well

i joked about getting my eardrums blasted by godzilla but he really was that loud. as he should be

godzilla (design, abilities, etc)

SWEET JESUS THIS IS THE SCARIEST GODZILLA BY FAR

godzilla: [shows up in the first 10 minutes with blair witch shaky cam]

me: the filmmakers are not messing around they mean BUSINESS

the rampage on odo island was rightfully terrifying

i love his texture and face. the scrunkliness of heisei with the horrifying pain of shin

i think his head is a bit small for his body, like if it was 5% bigger it would be perfect

loved the visuals of his scales flaking off after getting bombed

the nuclear fallout when he used his atomic breath in tokyo was awe-inducing

great use of godzilla as a war allegory

i saw the movie in d-box so the shotgun-blast of heat ray was intense

also coolest godzilla death. sick decapitation

the plan to imprison him in bubbles and give him the bends felt a bit silly in the moment but highlighted how desperate everyone was for ANYTHING to work

really liked how godzilla was more like an animal or unstoppable force of nature without a clear motive

i mean the only emotion you could ascribe is probably RAGE

sidenote i did think it was a lil funny whenever an object was flung through the air from offscreen. there goes godzilla having another tantrum

[thefandomlesbian]

Considering the concurrent outbreaks of COVID, flu, RSV, and norovirus, and given the environment where I work, I have chosen to start masking again. I just find it so surprising that every greeting I got was "What's with the mask? Are you sick?" And how floored everyone was when I explained I am not currently sick, but I also don't want to be, and I certainly don't want to be the vector of a deadly disease to someone I'm caring for. Shocked looks.

Five years ago, we were zipping body bags closed, pleading the government for PPE. We were going to war wearing trash bags and reusing cotton T-shirt scraps over our faces. We were coming home to our terrified families who sequestered us in other rooms for their own safety. We all, personally, knew at least one coworker who never came home, sacrificing their lives to try to save others.

How did we forget so quickly?

[moonlight26posts-blog]

In Baltimore City, MD: Very sweet and easy to handle stray pup found with Scabies- needs rescue ASAP - BARCS, Baltimore MD

If you can possibly find room in your home and your heart to foster this sweet boy, please email foster@charlietotherescue.org

Mavi- 2 y/o, unaltered male, 61lbs

He might look like an older gentleman, but Mavi here is estimated to be just two years old. This sweet fella was recently found as a stray and brought to our shelter through our partnership with Animal Control. Although the shelter can be an overwhelming environment for any animal, Mavi has been friendly, easy to handle, and overall very cooperative.

Upon examination, our vets noted that Mavi has an ear infection, dermatitis, blood tinged diarrhea (Parvo SNAP test negative), and a deep skin scrape was positive for Scabies (Sarcoptic mange). He was given a dose of Bravecto, which can be used to treat Scabies, and he was also started on probiotics, dewormers, antibiotics, and an anti-inflammatory. A full medical summary can be provided upon request.

Mavi is currently on stray hold until 12/6, and due to his diagnosis and need to be isolated from other animals and people (unless PPE is worn), we are hoping to secure placement for him as soon as possible.

Please let us know if your organization can help!

Thank you,

The BARCS Rescue Team

Baltimore Animal Rescue & Care Shelter (BARCS) ​New Address! 2490 Giles Rd, Baltimore, MD 21225 rescue@barcs.org| (410) 396-4695

Rescue pick-up hours: Monday-Friday: 10:30 a.m.-6:30 p.m. Saturday and Sunday: 8:30 a.m.-4:30 p.m

Adoption hours: Monday-Friday: 2 p.m.-6 p.m. Saturday and Sunday: 11 a.m.-4 p.m. Baltimore Animal Rescue and Care Shelter, Inc. (BARCS) | 2490 Giles Rd | Baltimore, MD 21225 US

[boyfrienby]

like. speaking more about bugs, pardon me, but pesticide usage is fucking scary, largely unchecked, and most people don't get a say in what is sprayed nearby their homes or why. and people who use it Flagrantly don't give a shit about unintended targets or safety precautions.

for example, i've been feeding crows outside my apartment using a little tin dish with nuts and seeds and dried fruits. yesterday after i refilled it, within minutes a landscaper came through spraying the borders of the grass with pesticides and did not even pause when he saw my tray of birdseed. he sprayed it just as liberally as the rest of the ground, and also around my potted tomato plants. i was so shocked that i didn't even call out to him, just ran outside to take the dish of food back before any critters got to it.

i have no say in them doing this. we have air conditioners and fans in the windows and they were spraying less than 2 feet away. i'm sure the people spraying are either too underpaid to care, or they have orders to do so, but if someone has to wear ppe to handle and spray these chemicals, why the FUCK would i want them getting blown into my house or onto my edible plants or in my birdseed. for the love of god, just let the bugs in my backyard live

[pandemichub]

Climate change is a major aspect of public health. So I would be remiss not to provide information and talk about hurricane John and Helene.

ID: Meteorology imagining of Hurricane Helen storm by The Weather Network, September 28th 2024. Neon green, neon yellow, infrared red, infrared orange, putrid green, icy blue white and cold blue coloring.

ID: Meteorology imaging of John and Helene by Meteored (U.K.). “Hurricane John has dissipated, but a new one may be born in the same area, while Hurricane Helen is affecting the Yucatan Peninsula.”

The following are resources and efforts to help people. A reminder not every can evacuate, and there are those who are choosing to stay behind to support others still in the disaster area. Unfortunately none of this is translated into other languages.

I am only fluent in English. If anyone comes across this and would be kind enough to I'd appreciate it. Please make sure to include all alt text if you do! ❤️

Resources:

Please share this information with anyone without internet access. Apparently there are Starlink hubs, data may or may not be an option. Anyone who has internet access in their home, consider sharing with your neighbors.

Note: I will continue to update this, especially with any resources for Hurricane John on account of currently I am struggling to find any.

Starlink hubs in Asheville, NC

DoubleTree Hilton Downtown

199 Haywood

SSID: SORTOR STARLINK

Pass: ncstrong

Asheville Shelter

Ferguson Building

340 Victoria Rd

SSID: HALL STARLINK

Pass: ncstrong

Please if you can distribute or request respirators and air cleaners with appropriate filters or type (HEPA, but also ones meant for VOCs and other particles). Reach out to your local mask bloc, pantry or comminity orgs as they may have PPE or other belpful items and guidance. - Admin

Disability and disaster hotline: 800-626-4959

ID: Disabled impacted by #Helene, need help? Discapacitade impactade por Helene y necesita ayuda?

Call/text (llame) Disability & Disaster Hotline 800-626-4959 or hotline@disasterstrategies.org

Alt text by Crutches and Spice (Imani Barbarin).

HURRICANE DISASTER RELIEF

ID: Donate to Mutual Aid Disaster Relief to support people impacted by Hurricane Helene in the southeast US

Paypal: MutualAidDisasterRelief@gmail.com

Venmo: @MutualAidDisasterRelief

https://actionnetwork.org/fundraising /mutual-aid-disaster-relief

ID: Instagram post screenshot.

@/comrade_lauren

happy-ish update:

a neighbor is making supply runs to Charlotte and got a haul of batteries. YAY. I went walking around and someone driving gave me a 24 pk of water and weed. shout out to Amanda from Swannanoa. you absolute angel.

we need ice pretty bad bc my neighbor needs to keep their meds cold. we still are ok on food and toilet paper for today. if you can send mutual aid for when I can get to an atm that would be really appreciated.

venmo: comrade_lauren

cashapp $disabledandpoor

please boost we are hearing this could last weeks.

ID: MUTUAL AID TO HELP HURRICANE HELENE VICTIMS. NEW DISABLED SOUTH graphic card.

Asheville Survival Program

Venmo: @AppMedSolid

CashApp: $Streets1de

Charlotte Community Care Collection

CashApp: $MutualAid704

Venmo: @MutualAid704

Mutual Aid Disaster Relief

PayPal: mutualaiddisasterrelief@gmail.com

Venmo: @MutualAidDisasterRelief

Beloved Asheville

Venmo: @BelovedAsheville

East Kentucky Mutual Aid

PayPal & Venmo: @ekymutualaid

Cashapp: $ekymutualaid

Food Not Bombs Tallahassee

Venmo: Mskatonic138@gmail.com

PayPal: @Mskatonic138

Knoxville First Aid Collective

Venmo: @firstaidcollectknox

Upstate Food Not Bombs in South Carolina

Venmo: @UpstateFNB

Cashapp: $UpstateFNB

ID: New Disabled South info card graphic for Upstate Food Not Bombs, S.C.

Harvest Hope Food Bank in SC

ID: New Disabled South info card graphic for Harvest Hope Food Bank.

Triangle Mutual Aid

Cashapp: $TriangleMutualAid

Reports:

John

https://gpm.nasa.gov/applications/weather/news/hurricane-john-gives-southern-mexico-surprise-one-two-punch (Spanish translation available)

https://gpm.nasa.gov/applications/weather/news/hurricane-john-gives-southern-mexico-surprise-one-two-punch

https://www.yahoo.com/news/mexico-counting-dead-zombie-storm-114412418.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_John_(2024)

Helene

*Coming soon*

Stay informed:

@comrade_lauren (instagram)

Any socials for your local county, weather coverage, orgs

NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) noaa.org

NWSNHC (National Hurricane Center) hurricanes.gov

[dreadknightcassandra]

Deadlock Character Story

Mid day at the Fairfax Industries R&D Ballistic range. McGinnis wiped the sweat from her brow, waiting for the automated system to trigger. The seconds slowly ticked by as she glanced around the range. Suddenly, a flash erupted by her side, and a large target slammed into view and began speeding down the range. McGinnis leapt into action, slamming down the trigger on her machine gun and lighting up the range with a hail of steel. Well, for five seconds anyway, before the mechanism jammed and the target reached the end of the range. Now, the range was lit up with a stream of increasingly verbose and agitated swearing and the sounds of a gun being slammed into a concrete barrier. The doors of the R&D flew open, and the engineering team scrambled out of the furious McGinnis who stomped her way to her personal desk, slammed the gun down, and immediately started tearing it apart looking for the fault. Her designs were perfect, she must have made a mistake in construction she thought. Eventually she found it, a 4mm defect in a part of the triggering sigils. "This in turned calmed her down. "Good, not a mistake I made." She made a note to speak to her thanatological crew lead, then packed up and headed home for the day. She passed her property gate, pulled into the garage, and went inside as her very spacious home. Fairfax paid well indeed. She dropped off her work gear, grabbed her post work drink out of the fridge, and walked out of her house and towards her back yard laboratory. On arriving, she knocked twice. "Hey, It's me, coming in." Inside the lab stood the lanky figure of Arin Fairfax, now going by the alias Pocket. The tables around them were scattered with diagrams, tomes, and to one side sat an old and ominous briefcase. "Any luck?" McGinnis asked after closing the door behind her.

"Not yet" They responded wearily. "Listen, are you sure this is okay, cuz whatever this thing is, it di-" McGinnis cut them off. "Did you take it from my department." "No?" "Then I don't care. I just want to know how it works. Far as I'm concerned, Fairfax is a lab and a paycheck, i don't give two shits about your family or it's drama." "Someone tried to kill me, this isn't just drama!" They gestured frantically with their darkened, mottled, left hand. "Whatever. Listen, your arm's getting worse, I think you're on the clock to figure this out. It'll probably be easier if you're able to, y'know, go outside, get supplies on your own instead of me having to go out and do your damned legwork. I've got a lot of PPE at the lab that I can-" "No!. No, I dan't want to risk tying you to me, it's bad enough I'm here. The suitcase protects me enough, and that gun you made has been...... useful, but the more I go out the greater the danger." They turned back to the table, shifting through stacks of diagrams and ancient prose. "Besides, I'm happy enough here, where it's safe" McGinnis cast a sidelong glance at the section of the lab they were using as a sleeping space, cluttered with discarded food wrappings, strewn clothes, and a single torn poster. "Riiiiiiiight, I'm gonna go hit the showers, call me if you make a breakthrough." Getting no response, McGinnis left the lab and went back into her home. Reaching in to the fridge to prep a refill, she felt her hair on the back of her neck suddenly stand on end. Immediately, she grabbed her refrigerator pistol (the interior one, the exterior one was still being fixed) and whipped around. In the corner of the kitchen, an amorphous figure stood cloaked in a heavier shadow than the lights of the kitchen should have allowed. Faint wisps of sickeningly green energy cured around the frame, and two eyes peered out of the darkness, one blue and one yellow. The figure spoke in a shifting dual voice. HAVE THEY LEARNED "Fucking hell" McGinnis lowered the gun. "I have a door and meeting hours, use one. No, nothing yet. The kid's not much of a scientist to be honest, but he gets more of a reaction out of it than I can." TIME IS SHORT. ANSWERS ARE WANTED. THE DEAD STIR "Listen, you wierdo, I don't know what you think I can do about that, the kid is-" She had turned to put her gun away, and when she turned back, the figure and shadows were gone. Immediately, she ran to another room and activated a monitor. Displayed on the monitor was a camera feed of the laboratory, sent by a hidden camera McGinnis had installed to monitor Pocket's progress. For a solid minute, she waited with bated breath, looking to ensure that her mystery partner didn't try anything rash or direct. Eventually, she was satisfied her ward wasn't in any danger, turned off the monitor and went to take a shower, missing the pair of eyes looking back at her through the screen

[plumbits]

i'm too tired to write a fully informational post right now, but as we're seeing more and more cases of H5N1 on the rise (in animals and humans): if you work closely with any species that have high potential to be infected, PLEASE wear proper PPE and take precautions when you get home (thorough hand washing, changing clothes when you get home from work, not wearing your work shoes inside).

as for the general public, if you come upon an injured or sick bird and can't find anyone who will take it, aside from very large hospitals, it's because of H5N1. during surges of the virus (like we're seeing now in the western US), rehabbers have to limit what they take in because of how dangerous the virus is to the other animals in their care and also in humans. a lot of rehabbers are home-based and only have themselves or a few other people to help them take on cases, and it's more than reasonable to not want to expose themselves, their animals, or their families to this virus.

as far as i know from the research being published, we haven't seen any human-human transmission of H5N1 yet, which is GREAT. we are seeing cases in humans from people who have interacted with wild birds, cattle, and swine*. H5N1 is also particularly deadly for house cats, especially those fed on a raw diet. all the more reason to keep your cats indoors and not feed them raw.

*people as in those who work on farms or those who are involved in culling infected flocks of birds.

i'm happy to answer any questions to the best of my ability, although i am NOT an epidemiologist.

[waiitiridge]

Remember your PPE kids

Today i low key poisoned myself with Phenol trying to strip the marine grade two pot poly paint my partner put on our doors. I was so careful applying and removing but as I was moving on to sanding, a missed glob fell on my knee. Did the proper thing and removed then washed under running water and checked the bottle for instructions... which said contact poison control immediately who told me to go to the ER, which was full. I got mild chemical burns, nausea, cold sweats, dizziness, and a racing heart. Sent home because the hospital is full and there is no antidote anyway 🥰

I acted quickly and it was a small area of skin so in the end I'll be fine but instead of saving me 10 minutes I wasted 5 hours and feel awful 🤡

[juney-blues]

Every time i think about the still ongoing pandemic i get incredibly angry.

we could've put a stop to this in 2020 if we just let the wheels of capitalism grind to a halt for a month or two, but no, god fucking forbid we stop endlessly toiling away for someone else's profit for even a second.

Capitalism and The Basics Of Germ Theory came into conflict with eachother and capitalism fucking won, and now we're going backwards on our common understanding as a society of microbes, people are refusing to wear masks even for things that aren't deadly diseases because it got turned into a fucking culture war issue for some reason.

We all knew what to do, we all knew exactly how to stop the spread of a virulent disease thanks to a thousand years of science and research and understanding history, and we just didn't fucking do it because some rich assholes wouldn't've made quite as much money as they would've if we just died.

Thousands died, thousands are still dying, and thousands more have been disabled, and thousands more will be disabled, and this was preventable, this was so fucking preventable and i will never not be angry about it.

Staying home and not getting a haircut and not going out drinking with your friends for a few weeks was too Traumatic, and compensating people for the time they'd have to take off work would've cost the government Too Much Money, and wearing a fucking piece of cloth over your face was too Uncomfortable, and vaccines are giving your kids autism and turning the frogs gay,

and now there's a million fucking variants and even if you get vaccinated for one it still won't help with any of the others, and you people are still going out to coffee shops and bars and stadiums and concerts and swapping this disease around like it's a fucking trading card, and people are dying at a higher rate than ever and it's not even news anymore, and just

fine.

you assholes all win, all of you!

the bare minimum i can do to keep myself and others safe isn't even that effective anymore, because no one else is fucking doing it, i might as well start licking toilet seats and not even wash my hands afterwards for all society at large cares,

so everything is worse now for everyone, and we're never fixing this because you people just don't *want* to fix it, and at this point it's so entrenched that fixing it would take far more effort than preventing it ever would and even *that* was too much for you people

so you win.

the virus is here to stay, and people are going to keep getting sick, and it's going to keep tearing their bodies apart, and there's just nothing any of us can do about it because it's just the new normal.

and just ignoring it is easier than wearing a mask out in public, and getting your booster shots every couple of months, and avoiding crowds of people, and keeping your distance, and installing the proper ventilation equipment, and providing your employees with the proper ppe, and learning to live with an airborne pathogen in a way that isn't obviously stupid and dangerous,

everything is worse and we're not fixing it,

is this what you wanted? are you happy about this?