#right above knee amputee

[amputeewomen]

Beautiful woman, shows great balance, dancing with a hula hoop. She is amazing.

[ampguy123]

Brenna Huckaby RAK Athlete and Model

Brenna Huckaby

[cy-cyborg]

Writing and drawing amputee characters: Not every amputee wears prosthetics (and that's ok)

Not every amputee wears prosthetics, and not doing so is not a sign that they've "given up".

It's a bit of a trope that I've noticed that when an amputee, leg amputees in particular, don't wear prosthetics in media its often used as a sign that they've given up hope/stopped trying/ are depressed etc. If/when they start feeling better, they'll start wearing their prosthetics again, usually accompanied by triumphant or inspiring music (if it's a movie). The most famous example of this is in Forest Gump, Where Dan spends most of the movie after loosing his legs wishing he'd died instead. He does eventually come around, and him finally moving from his wheelchair to prosthetics is meant to highlight this.

The thing is, it's not that it's unrealistic - in fact my last major mental health spiral was started because one of my prosthetics was being a shit and wouldn't go on properly, despite fitting perfectly at the prosthetist's the day before. I'm not going to use my legs when I'm not in a good headspace, but the problem is, this is the only time non-prosthetic using amputees ever get representation: to show how sad they are. Even if that's not what the creator/writer necessarily intended, audiences will often make that assumption on their own unless you're very careful and intentional about how you frame it, because it's what existing media has taught them to expect.

But there are lots of reasons why someone might not use prosthetics:

they might not need them: this is more common in arm amputees because of how difficult it can be to use arm prosthetic, especially above-elbow prosthetics. Most folks learn how to get on without them pretty well. In fact, most of the arm amputees I know don't have prosthetics, or only have them for specific tasks (e.g. I knew a girl who had a prosthetic hand made specifically for rowing, but that's all she used it for).

Other mobility aids just work better for them: for me, I'm faster, more manoeuvrable and can be out for longer when I'm in my wheelchair than I ever could on my prosthetics. Youtube/tik tok creator Josh Sundquist has said the same thing about his crutches, he just feels better using them than his prosthetic. This isn't the case for everyone of course, but it is for some of us. Especially people with above-knee prosthetics, in my experience.

Other disabilities make them harder to use: Some people are unable to use prosthetics due to other disabilities, or even other amputations. Yeah, as it turns out, a lot of prosthetics are only really designed for single-limb amputees. While they're usable for multi-limb amps, they're much harder to use or they might not be able to access every feature. For example, the prosthetic knee I have has the ability to monitor the walk cycle of the other leg and match it as close as possible - but that only works if you have a full leg on the other side. Likewise, my nan didn't like using her prosthetic, as she had limited movement in her shoulders that meant she physically couldn't move her arms in the right way to get her leg on without help.

Prosthetics are expensive in some parts of the world: not everyone can afford a prosthetic. My left prosthetic costs around $5,000 Australian dollars, but my right one (the above knee) cost $125,000AUD. It's the most expensive thing I own that I only got because my country pays for medical equipment for disabled folks. Some places subsidise the cost, but paying 10% of $125,000 is still $12,500. Then in some places, if you don't have insurance, you have to pay for that all by yourself. Even with insurance you still have to pay some of it depending on your cover. Arm prosthetics are even more expensive. Sure, both arms and legs do have cheaper options available, but they're often extremely difficult to use. You get what you pay for.

they aren't suitable for every type of environment: Prosthetics can be finicky and modern ones can be kind of sensitive to the elements. My home town was in a coastal lowland - this means lots of beaches and lots of swamp filled with salty/brackish water. The metals used in prosthetics don't hold up well in those conditions, and so they would rust quicker, I needed to clean them more, I needed to empty sand out of my foot ALL THE TIME (there always seemed to be more. It was like a bag of holding but it was just sand). Some prosthetics can't get wet at all. There were a few amputees who moved to the area when I was older who just didn't bother lol. It wasn't worth the extra effort needed for the maintenance.

People have allergies to the prosthetic material: This is less of a problem in the modern day, but some people are allergic to the materials their prosthetics are made from. You can usually find an alternative but depending on the type of allergy, some people are allergic to the replacements too.

Some people just don't like them.

There's nothing wrong with choosing to go without a prosthetic. There's nothing wrong with deciding they aren't for you. It doesn't make you a failure or sad or anything else. Using or not using prosthetics is a completely morally neutral thing.

Please, if you're writing amputees, consider if a prosthetic really is the best mobility aid for your character and consider having your characters go without, or at least mix it up a bit.

For example, Xari, one of the main characters in my comic, uses prosthetics unsupported and with crutches, and uses a wheelchair. They alternate between them throughout the story.

[saszor]

image description both in alt text and copied below!

third part of my "drawing visibly disabled people" drawing series :-) can't wait to do more TBH! it's so much fun drawing people like me.

[1] [2]

[image description copied from alt text: digital drawing of 11 characters on a pastel background. in the top left are two guys. the first one is white, fat, and wears a face mask. the second guy is white, blonde and an above knee amputee. they're talking. below them are three characters shown from the chest up; a Brown person with a cochlear implant, a niqabi with small eyes and only one of them appearing open holding a white cane (both of them have lesbian flags and matching rings), and a Black girl with Down Syndrome looking at her phone. The first two are giving their excited reactions to her. to the right of them is a family - a Black person without an arm and with a prosthetic leg using a cane, a South Asian pregnant woman with strabismus holding a white cane and their daughter holding on to her mom's clothes. on the right side of the image is a person using crutches, looking exhausted. they have a liver transplant scar and knock knees. next to them is a short Black man with osteogenesis imperfecta in a power wheelchair. he wears hearing aids. behind them is a burn survivor with locs typing on her phone - it has a notification with the OK sign in the colors of the character in bottom left.]

[dekulakization]

Not to be a nerd on main but I've got some shit to say about Curly mouthwashing.

Initial injuries:

How did Curly end up a tetralateral amputee. Why were the amputations PERFORMED for that matter. His injuries apparently reached all four limbs in equal spots. The right eye being covered implies either that the blast was stronger on the right side (AKA that he was turned so that the blast faced the right side of his body) or that he received additional injuries (perhaps shrapnel or an injury as he was thrown backwards by the force of the blast). IF he was turned to the blast with his right side of the body, wouldn't the injuries be more severe there? More damaged tissue, more unsalvageable tissue. If this was the case I feel like his amputations would be up to the hip/shoulder. I've heard the idea that he was perhaps stuck in foam but that doesn't clear anything up for me. Were his arms and legs both equally inside of the foam so that when the blast struck his joints (elbows/knees) were all injured beyond repair?

Even if that's the case, they didn't have the supplies for an amputation (let alone 4) by ANY means. There was no trained medical personnel on board (Anya only finished the company course) and amputation is a dangerous procedure just as any other surgery is. I feel like attempting to perform a botched amputation would be far more dangerous than leaving the tissue be. Though that poses the risk of necrosis. More on necrosis later.

Infection, cardiovascular concerns, blood loss and thermoregulation:

How did the crew stop the initial bleeding? How did they remove whatever they used to stop the initial bleeding? Blood loss had to be severe, and I feel like the crew would get to him far too late to stop him bleeding out completely. And for my second statement, things stick. Tissue paper sticks, cloth sticks, it sticks to tissue. Anything would cause further damage of the tissue.

Is ALL of his skin gone? All of it burned off? Is there still patches of it in tact? Either way, he lost ANY methods of thermoregulation since most of it (that being, the skin) is gone and the crew don't even bother to try and maybe, I don't know, stop him from going hypothermic. Give him a blanket. None of that. He's in a gown and some bandages. How did he not die of hypothermia?

Directly tied to the lack of thermoregulation, the bleeding and the pain, how did his heart not give out from the initial shock and later on psychophysical strain? I genuinely find it so hard to believe that after all of that his heart would still be holding out. It's a muscle that can overstrain itself just like any other.

Why and how in the world did he NOT get anything infected??? Jesus Christ? As far as we're aware he hasn't changed that gown nor those bandages in months. There is no disinfectant on the ship and even if there was using it on him would damage tissue further. Your skin protects the tissue underneath from infection and that's why it's easy for wounds to get infected, because they're breaks in the skin. It should be necrotic. What the hell. Also how's he not blind how didn't his eye dry out he can't blink

The purpose of keeping him alive: torturers tending to injuries

It's clear that the crew can recognise when a mercy killing is necessary (such as shown on the example of Daisuke). So why in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD is Curly left alive? Is it punishment because they think he crashed the ship? Why give him painkillers then? Why are you easing his pain? To stop his heart from giving out, to keep him alive longer?

IIRC Anya DID want to kill Curly but Jimmy was against it. This would not only completely out Jimmy as a sadist but it makes me wonder why is his word valued above the word of someone who has more medical experience than him, even if it was just a company course. Was she scared of what he'd do if she didn't listen to him?? Also why is this not a matter the entire crew is supposed to discuss??? And this leads into my NEXT point:

Why is nobody attempting to establish some sort of communication method with Curly? Hello?? He's clearly conscious and present within the moment, able to see and process the things around him. He literally cannot do anything. The least you could do, if you truly want to ease pain, is to try to stimulate him intellectually. To talk to him like a man to a man. His humanity was stripped from him by his surroundings rather than the crash itself. Letting him stare at a white ceiling with his only stimulation being pills forced down his throat is genuinely inhumane. Nobody is asking him whether HE wants to live or to die. Nobody is taking into consideration that he still has thoughts.

Perhaps I'm taking the entirety of his character too literally. Don't get me wrong, I love this game. I haven't played it myself, I could only bring myself to watch analysis videos, so some of the things I say might be straight up wrong, and I'm willing to take any criticism and discussion that starts. This was just me nerding out about medicine

[brandyllyn]

Cross My Heart

Ezra x f!reader

Summary: "I do not know who I am when I am half a man." Words: 5.7k

For the #pedrostoriesgift23 Holiday Gift Exchange and the lovely @oonajaeadira who is my secret giftee! Your prompt was :

Romance, soft, yearning, hopeful. F!reader. If there's a kiss involved, I wouldn't complain. Random prompt: heart.

Hope you enjoy it, as per usual Ezra got a little (a lot) away from me.

My Masterlist

Rated: Teen Warnings: Talk of self harm / suicide but no one does it, discussion of medical procedures and prostheses, some use of ability based slurs by Ezra and others, canon typical violence, hint of spice

The smell hit him first.

Sterile, antiseptic. There was no tang of iron, or the almost vinegary smell of the Green. No dirt, no grime, no unwashed bodies or hint of explosives. Not the sweet stench of decay.

It smelled wrong.

Ezra grimaced as he scanned his identicard, watching the numbers flash up and a younger, cockier version of himself stared down from the screen. The picture was from before his first trip. Before he’d left the inner rings to find his luck in the reaches. Long before the Green.

A line of text directed him to sit in the waiting area and he glanced over the occupants. An older man in a wheelchair sat in the corner, head leaning forward and a line of drool dripping onto one thigh as he snored loudly. He was missing both legs above the knee. A few feet away, a scrawny teenager furtively glanced around the room with one eye, the other an empty hole she hadn’t bothered to cover. A woman with her left arm amputated below the elbow. A man around his age who had the pale, sickly yellow tinged skin that denoted liver failure. Another wheelchair. Another amputee. The room was full of those who had lost something. 

He felt right at home.

The Emric Chan Prosthesis Clinic welcomed everyone - the most destitute scavenger could come on their free clinic day and if the stars aligned have their life changed. The doctor he’d seen on the sling had recommended it to him. He couldn’t afford anything better than a hook but if he was chosen here he’d get a neurobionic arm.

A fresh start.

He finally chose a seat next to a woman near his age, maybe a bit younger. She was missing her forefinger on her right hand, a place she fidgeted with as he watched. Running the thumb of her other hand across it and grimacing as though it still hurt. He could understand that. Though it had been months since he lost his arm the stump still twinged occasionally.

“How long have you been waiting?”

Her eyes met his and he noted their pretty color, the ring of lashes that framed them and the soft “oh” her lips made before she answered. “I got here this morning.”

He frowned, “That’s hours ago, are they struggling to see people today?”

She snorted and a small smile pulled at her lips. She was quite pretty. “First time?”

He smiled in return, “I am a veritable virgin sacrifice to these halls.”

A laugh escaped her and she quickly covered her mouth, glancing around the room to see if anyone noticed. “I doubt that.”

He wanted to hear that laugh again. “In this I am yet a babe in the woods. I take it that it is not as straightforward as arriving in a timely fashion for my appointment?”

“No,” a fidget again as she tangled her fingers together. “They’ve got this algorithm. It looks at how dire your situation is, what kind of prostheses they have, what doctors are available… I don’t really understand it. You see Alaric in the corner?” She tipped her chin to the man snoring in the wheelchair and Ezra nodded. “He’s been coming here longer than I have. Once a month for the free clinic, just like us. He’s never even been called back.”

It seemed to Ezra that the loss of both legs might be considered a more dire situation than his single arm. “That is not exactly comforting.”

A small shrug. “It’s what it is, and for those of us with no other options… at least it’s hope.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, sprawling his legs in front of him and staring at the toe of his boot. “I do not have much hope, I’m afraid.”

She gave him a wan smile. “It is a long shot. I’ve been coming for almost a year. There’s also precedence they follow, even more so than your need. People from Ceti Alpha IV, some old families if you can prove you’re related, miners, colonists from-”

Ezra sat bolt upright. “Hold a moment there, did you say miners?”

“Yeah, the guy who founded this place made his money out in the reaches. One of their protected classes are IMC members.”

The Interstellar Mining Cooperative. Why hadn’t he thought of it? He was a member, at least he was pretty sure he was. They had some sparse benefits that he had never made much use of - but the appended callsign had landed him a few premier docking spaces and discounts on the sling. He hadn’t thought about it in years, yet the membership should have renewed unless something had changed.

“And if I were an IMC member?”

Her smile faltered a moment before returning. “Then yeah, you’ll jump to the front unless there’s another miner with something more serious.”

A flush of joy spread over him and he fumbled with his data pad. It took longer than it should, he was yet unused to working solely with his left hand, but soon he had his member page in his hand, a bright gold chisel in the corner.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He turned the data pad to show her. “It seems my luck has finally turned.”

Her nod was accompanied by another tight smile and she let out a soft sigh as she settled back into her chair. “I guess there’s always next time.”

“Do not look so forlorn, gem,” his grin was so wide it almost hurt. “While the loss of a digit is inconvenient, I assure you things could be worse.”

Her eyes fell to her lap, where nine fingers were intertwined. Brows drawing together she frowned for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose so. You should update your file, make sure you’re seen today if they can.”

He rose to his feet and then paused. Quickly, he dropped to one knee in front of her and reached out with his remaining hand to take her injured one. “You didn’t have to tell me, I would have never known. Thank you.”

“If it’s not you it would have been someone else.” Her eyes were sparkling and he wondered if they were tears. “There’s always someone who takes the slot. Always.”

“I cannot offer you a new digit, I myself am down to only five, but I would like to offer you dinner. If you would like?”

A moment of uncertainty passed before she nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They traded identifications and he couldn’t help but look back as he crossed to the check-in. She had her hands pressed together to her chest, her lips resting on the back of one thumb.

He wondered if she was praying.

She wasn’t going to show.

Ezra tapped his fingers on the table and glanced around the room. It wasn’t the nicest place in the Narrows, but not the worst either. The food was good and if it came with a side of attitude in the basement of a pawn shop, who was he to judge?

The numbers on his watch clicked over and he sighed. He was in an extraordinarily good mood and she was ruining it. 

With a grunt he pulled the menu up on the table and selected a bottle of synthehol. It didn’t taste as good as the real thing, or so he was told, but it gave as good of a buzz as any. It arrived a moment later and he flicked the top off with practiced ease. Pouring his glass he held it to the light for a moment and then let a slow grin overtake his face.

He was getting a new arm.

A GH7 Neurobionic Prosthesis to be exact. Top of the line with a lifetime guarantee. 

A lifetime guarantee.

That would be enough to get everything back on track. To go back to prospecting if he wanted. According to the pamphlet the prosthesis would connect directly into his nervous system. The skin tone would match and he would be able to feel everything as though it was his original arm. In short, it would be as though it never happened. There were even opportunities to upgrade - if he could scare up the credits - and add in sensors and utilities that might help his life someday.

“Ezra?”

The soft voice jolted him from his reverie and he saw her standing nearby, a blue grey tunic belted at the waist and a pair of grey trousers underneath. A black armband peeked out from her sleeve. In a burst of motion he leapt to his feet, throwing his arm around her and pulling her into half an embrace.

“Darling, you came!” With a quick shuffle he led her to the other side of his table, letting her go long enough to pull the chair out and settle her into it. “May I offer you a libation? I have had finer vintages but it is quite nice in its own right.” At her nod he filled a glass for her, cheeks nearly hurting from the smile that wreathed his face when he sat across from her.

“I do not have the words to express my gratitude for your help this afternoon.” He pulled the menu up and spun it her direction. “Please, order whatever you like. This is my treat.”

“So I take it you qualified?”

“Passed with flying colors! My surgery is five spans hence.”

“That’s so good, just in time for the Prophet’s Name Day!” She flipped through the menu and ordered, flicking the holo away. “A basic unit or…?”

Taking it as a prompt he launched into the details of his new arm, pulling the brochure up on his data pad and showing her the specs. She made the appropriate oohing and ahhing noises as he did so, leaning in and pointing out some of the finer details such as the heating elements and pulse that would make it mimic the original even more closely than he had thought.

“It truly is a dream,” he sighed when he had finally finished. “And I have you to thank for it. If you hadn’t…” He swallowed, glancing away and feeling a flush come over him. “I must admit I was having thoughts of a rather permanent nature.”

Her hand came out to cover his, fingers intertwining. “Don’t talk like that.”

He turned his hand over in hers, returning her grip with a fierce squeeze, “I do not know who I am when I am half a man. My livelihood depends on the use of both - on the security of its presence. Without it… I ask you, what use would I be?”

“A man is more than his use, Ezra,” she scolded softly.

A shake of his head cut her off before she could continue. “Not for me. I am not made to be idle, nor to live on the charity of others. Had this not worked, had you not been there, well, I have cheated death enough to not begrudge her her final say.”

The look she gave him was commiserating but she didn’t argue. “I get it, sometimes it seems easier to just let go than it is to hope.”

“Oh, I have hope now, starshine, you have given me hope.”

She pulled her hand away and took a sip of her drink. “I didn’t do anything. You would have figured it out on your own.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “or maybe I would have let yet another chance at happiness pass me by.“ He gave her a considering look. She was pretty, in a way he might have overlooked in different circumstances. He had always been one to chase the flashy, to always be looking to the next thing and ignore what was in front of him. Maybe it was time to rethink that strategy.

“I don’t reckon you would be amenable to seeing me again?”

She looked away for a moment, lips pressed together as she nodded almost shyly. “I’m also in the ‘take a chance’ ship these days, and you seem nice.”

He laughed, “I can honestly say that no person has ever graced me with the moniker ‘nice’ before, but for you I shall strive to meet your aspirations.”

A grin played on her lips and she met his eyes. “Well, handsome then.”

“I am delighted that you think so,” he grinned in return. “Now, why don’t you tell me about your life before you found yourself seated in this lovely establishment this evening?”

They spoke for hours. About her time working in the dockyards, the early deaths of her parents, and the unscrupulous manager that necessitated her move to the Narrows. In return he spoke of the brother he had lost in the silicon mines, the various adventures he had been on while alone, and of Cee.

“A spitfire if ever I have seen one,” he claimed as a bot cleaned the table next to them. “She’s the reason you find me with less than the standard number of limbs.”

“Oh really?” She seemed shocked. “And you’re still taking care of her?”

“I am not ashamed to admit that I have not always been the best of men - when survival is on the line I can be positively ruthless. And Cee, well… Cee is much like myself. There is a spark in her, a fight. It is a trait I wish to nurture.”

“I don’t know if I could be like that,” she responded. “Be so heartless I hurt someone else just to save myself.”

“I’m wounded you think me so pitiless. Perhaps you could give me a chance to show you my softer side?”

He expected her to turn timid - everything he had learned about her so far gave the picture of a woman who was not prone to rash decisions or impulsiveness. So he was pleasantly surprised when she grinned at him.

“I could be convinced.”

He walked her home, of course. He liked to think himself a gentleman and was nothing if not an opportunist. Which was why when she tilted her head to his at her door he instantly swooped in, reaching out to pull her hips to his and slanting his mouth across hers. He groaned when she arched against him, biting at her lip before pulling back and giving her a slow smile.

“Would you like to come inside?”

His smile widened and he lifted a hand to brush against her cheek. At least, he would have had it been there. He could even see it, the calloused hand with the short fingernails gently tracing what he knew must be soft skin. 

But the absence jolted him from his good mood and he took a step away from her with a grimace. “I would like to be whole if we ever…”

She took his hand in hers, stepping into his space again. “You know I don’t care about that, right Ezra?”

Giving her a wane smile he nodded, “I do know that. But I care.”

“Then I understand.” After a pause she gave him a mischievous grin, “But we can still kiss, can’t we?”

“We absolutely can do that,” he assured her, backing her into the door and closing the distance between them once more. “As often as you’ll allow.”

Her only answer was a low moan that rumbled into his skin and set him afire.

It was going to be a long six spans.

“You don't have to go with me.”

Ezra guided her around a group of teenagers and chuckled as he squeezed her tighter. “You act as though it is a burden to spend time with you.”

“It’s boring. I know, I've been doing it for a cycle.”

It was free clinic day and Ezra had shown bright and early at her flat with a bag of pastries to help her start the morning. She had seemed surprised by his arrival, wrapping a shawl over her shoulders but inviting him in for morning caf and together they had devoured the pastries before she began her trek to the other end of the City.

“It's no trouble, it will give me time to think on my own matters.”

She smiled at a vendor and he gave the man a once over before dismissing him.

“Matters like if you want to include a full arm tattoo?”

He snorted. “The thought occurred but it holds no charm for me. Rather, I've been trying to remember if I had a mole on my pinky or not.”

“Isn’t there a whole saying about knowing things like the back of your hand?”

He stopped her with a slight tug, pulling her into an alcove. With a quick movement he covered her hand with his. “Do you have any?”

She frowned. “On the outside of the back, I think? More like a freckle.”

“Anything else? Scars? Do you know how long your nail beds are?”

She huffed and tugged her hand free, crooking a smile and pointing out the freckle. “For the nail beds, I’d just have them match the other hand.”

“Ah starshine,” he wrapped his arm around her waist again, “your skin is far more unblemished than mine. It will be strange to see skin as marred as mine was - but perhaps it is better to have a clean slate? These are the question that plague me.”

“It’s not-”

Someone shoved into her and she fell against him suddenly. He lifted his other arm to catch her but nothing moved but the short stump. Thrown off balance they both stumbled and, after seeing to her well-being, he rounded on the perpetrator with a fierce frown.

“Watch where you are going.” The man was around his size, maybe an inch taller. Ezra sized him up in a glance, a street thug who would barely be worth the effort of a fight if it came to it.

“Keep your pumbavu bitch out of my way.”

Ezra carefully shifted his expression to the smoothly friendly one he reserved for wayward prospectors who happened to cross his path with more gems than sense.

“There is no need for that kind of language, friend, there is plenty of room for us all.” He gestured at the narrow sidewalk. “Perhaps an apology and we can all be on our way?”

“Apologize?” the man snorted. “To some ampee and whoever was pathetic enough to take your credits?”

“This is your warning,” Ezra told him slowly, shifting his stance and reaching for the knife in his belt. “There will not be another.”

“And what are you going to do? Shoulder me to death?”

Ezra barely waited for him to finish the sentence, palming the blade and slashing out in nearly the same motion. He heard the soft gasp from behind him but ignored her, all of his concentration on the man in his sights. The blade whistled through air and Ezra adjusted, stepping forward and flipping the blade around to catch him on the backswing. From his peripheral he saw the punch coming from his right and raised his hand to block it.

With nothing there the blow caught him squarely in the jaw, sending him reeling back as his vision danced. The force of it made him drop his blade and he heard it clatter to the metal grates beneath their feet before slipping through and disappearing below.

“Prophet’s nutsack, I’ll fucking-”

Suddenly she was there, between them, throwing her arms out and pleading with the man. “Please, this is all a misunderstanding. No one’s hurt, can’t we just leave it at that?”

Ezra, for one, felt hurt but he didn’t say anything about it, shaking his head and trying to stop his ears from ringing.

“Tell your cripple boyfriend to mind his own business.”

Snarling, Ezra prepared to launch himself at the man once more but she had his cheeks in her hands and the concerned look on her face quelled his ire.

“Are you okay? How’s your head?”

“It will be fine, I’ve had worse.”

“Ezra…” she chided, “what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that rat needed a lesson in manners.” She laughed and he realized suddenly how petulant he sounded. “Are you okay, starshine?”

She laid a hand to her chest, “My heart is racing. That can’t be good for me.”

“A little adrenaline keeps you young.”

She gave him a wan smile even as she took deep, steadying breaths. Holding a finger to the pulse point on her wrist she stood a moment longer before she seemed satisfied. “Don’t do things like that, okay?”

“I can make you no promises,” he held an elbow out for her to take and continued them on their way. “I am a man more suited to fight than flight.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Ezra nodded absently, the white walls around him almost mocking in their sterility. His life was about to change and here he was sitting on a paper covered bed in little more than a nightgown.

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to tell Cee?”

“No,” he cut her off quickly, running his hand through his hair and likely ruffling it beyond recovery. “Cee does not need to know of any of this until it is finished.”

She was bustling around the room, folding his clothes into a neater pile and tossing him concerned glances. “I can’t believe you feel more guilty about her than she does about shooting you.”

Ezra shrugged. It was a discussion they had had before and he knew she didn’t understand. She didn’t need to, but he liked that she was trying. 

“Trust me, starshine, she feels exactly as much guilt as she should for her actions.” He caught her arm as she went by again and pulled her to stand between his legs. Pulling her hand to his lips he kissed the spot where her finger was missing. “Are you planning to rearrange the entire room?”

“I’m nervous,” she admitted, leaning into his embrace and settling her head on his shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait here for you?”

“Absolutely not.” He pushed her away so that he could meet her eyes so she would know how serious he was. “Assuming all goes well I will come find you after, don’t you worry about that.”

She didn’t ask what he would do if it didn’t go well - and he didn’t know what his answer would have been regardless.

“HG460372 Theta?”

The voice at the doorway sounded bored and Ezra glanced up as it read off his IMC number. 

“Present.”

“Follow me.”

He slipped off the table and pulled her in for a kiss. “I’ll see you this evening. Wait up for me?”

“I’d wait forever for you.”

For that she got one more quick kiss before he followed after the nurse.

Ezra flexed his fingers, noting the fine brown hairs on his knuckles and the small scar at the base of his thumb. With his left hand he pressed two fingers to his wrist, feeling the steady pulse. The skin wrinkled and moved as he tested it, marveling at the fine interconnected lines.

“Ezra?”

He whipped his head up. He hadn’t even noticed the door sliding open. But there she was, her eyes wide and lips parted as she stared at his new arm. 

At his whole self.

“Oh Ezra, how does it-”

He cut her off with a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her towards him even as he backed her into her small flat. Fingertips felt the hairs at the top of her spine, felt the give of her skin, felt the warmth of her.

“Ezra,” she managed to push him away slightly even as he wrapped his other arm around her waist. “Show me the-”

“I want to feel you, starshine.” They were at her sofa now and he carefully pushed her onto her back, straddling her waist with his knees before pulling away. “We can speak of the particulars at a more opportune time.”

She giggled and yanked him back to her and he caught himself on his prosthetic. He could feel the rough weave of the upholstery even as he shifted his weight so he could use his right hand to undo the buttons of her shirt.

“The doctors told me I should practice my fine motor skills,” he pushed her shirt apart and cupped one of her breasts in his hand. The soft material of her bra gave beneath his fingers and he traced upwards to pull the cup down before he felt something new. 

“What is this?” With a sly grin he traced his fingers over the faint ridges running from her breast up to her shoulder. “A body modification? Do you have others? A tattoo perhaps?”

She faltered, her smile freezing on her face. “Can we not talk about that, Ezra?”

“Ah, a youthful indiscretion? I understand.” He helped her shrug her shirt off and his eyes caught on the band of black encircling her left upper arm. He’d noticed it before, not really giving it much thought. But now that it was exposed he could see that the lines under her skin ran directly to it.

“I must admit you have my curiosity, am I allowed to remove this or-”

She sat up so quickly she nearly brained him, only his quick reflexes allowing him to rear back and avoid a broken nose.

“Do not!”

He spread his fingers wide, noting with pride how strong both of his hands looked. “I will not if you do not wish it, of course, but I should know the bounds of what I can and cannot do. May I touch it at all?”

A deep breath lifted her breasts and he tried to ignore the motion while she gathered herself.

“It’s probably better if you don’t.”

“Then I will not.” He lowered his hands to grip her wrists, massaging the skin with his fingers. “Your secrets are your own, but I hope you will allow me one more question?” At her nod he lifted her left hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Is it dangerous? A drug of some kind?”

“No.” A long silence stretched before she elaborated. “It’s a battery pack.”

Slowly, he let his fingers trace over the edges of the band, following the lines embedded into her skin until they disappeared into her chest. Under the pads of his fingers he could hear the steady, delicate thump of her heart. “A battery pack?”

She didn’t answer but he didn’t need her to. At once the realization crashed on him and he cursed, damning himself for an idiot as he realized how oblivious he had been.

“The clinic - you are not visiting to get your finger replaced, are you?”

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Starshine, why didn’t you say something? I could have-”

“There’s nothing you could have done,” she interrupted, suddenly taking his hand with her own.

“I could have given you my spot.” He clenched his fist, staring at the ripple of tendons and wires. “I could have forced them to see you instead.”

“Really? You told me you were days from killing yourself if the clinic hadn’t worked out.”

Ezra didn’t reply, his mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts. A month ago he would have agreed. Told her that to live even a moment longer as a cripple was too much. But now…

“I could have waited my turn, if it meant you getting yours.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she shrugged. “You can’t give up your place like that.”

He laid a palm flat to her chest. “How long?”

“The cardiac unit is a stopgap, they gave me eight months if all went well.”

He stilled, fingers briefly clutching at her. “And how long ago was that?”

“A full cycle.”

“A year,” he croaked, feeling as though perhaps all of his hair had turned white with that statement. “But…”

She pressed her hand to his, over her chest. “It was longer than I ever expected. I fell into the stasis field at the shipyards a year ago - it totally fried my system.” 

“And so you need a new heart.”

“A Yutani-7 artificial heart to be exact, but yeah. Can we get back to the kissing now?”

Ezra leaned back as she reached for him and then couldn’t help a wry smile at her exaggerated pout. “Starshine, you can’t spring a terminal condition on a man and expect him to perform for you.”

She tried to give him a seductive look but betrayed herself with a soft sniffle. “I ruined it didn’t I?”

Shifting to lie next to her, Ezra pulled her into his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin and petting down her back. “You ruined nothing. I am only morose you did not tell me sooner so I might have had time to come to terms with the knowledge before being asked to ravish you.”

“So is ravishing off the table then?”

She sounded so forlorn he couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course not, but perhaps tonight is not the time-”

It was a marvel she managed to surprise him, leveraging herself upwards and yanking his face down to hers in a wild, rough kiss. When she finally broke away for air they were both panting.

“I don’t know how much time I have left, Ezra.”

“An uncharitable blow, starshine.”

“Please.”

Well, who was he to deny a woman who begged so sweetly?

“I have a surprise for you.”

She blinked up at him wearily, a confused frown on her face before she answered. “What?”

“A surprise,” he whipped the blanket from over her, smiling at the adorable bundle of fleece and sweaters she was wrapped in beneath. “Are you cold?”

“Poor circulation,” she mumbled as she slowly sat up, rubbing a hand across her eyes. “Side effect of - you know. What do you mean a surprise?”

Letting his smile slip he sat at the edge of the couch, settling his hand on her knee. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold, a little out of breath. Pretty normal stuff all things considered. What surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now would it?” He jumped to his feet, yanking a sweater from a nearby chair and holding it out to her. “Here, I don’t want you to be cold.”

“Ezra, why are you bleeding?”

He glanced down at his arm, at the thin tendrils of synthetic red liquid that rose from a series of scratches that ran the length of his forearm. “No reason, come on.”

She caught his hand but he quickly shook her off, bustling her into the sweater and out her door. One of her neighbors had set out candles for Name Day and he carefully steered her around them.

“If I can’t ask why you’re bleeding can I ask why you have a black eye?”

“You may not,” he responded cheerily.

“Ezra…”

He pulled her close to his side and navigated her out of the alley. “I must ask that you hold your queries until the end of the day, starshine. All will be revealed in time.”

A soft huff escaped her but she didn’t say anything, letting him lead her through the underbelly of the city and to a building they both knew far too well.

“Ezra it’s not the right day,” she told him as he led her to a side entrance.

“You are correct.” He pulled the door open and ushered her inside. A long hallway stretched in front of them and Ezra walked down it with confidence until he found the office he was looking for. A man was sitting behind the desk, his grey lab coat marred by a spot of blood and a drawn look on his face.

“Is this the patient?”

“It is,” Ezra responded as he sat her in a chair. “And you have the item?”

“They’re not easy to find, you know. I had to forge about ninety seven different manifests.”

“Ezra…” she whispered, eyes wide, but he cut her off with a squeeze to her shoulder.

“And will that complicate matters?”

The doctor steepled his fingertips above the desk and sighed. “It won’t.”

“Good, good.” Ezra was pacing behind her, darting glances around the room and flexing his prosthetic arm as though worried it might remember its origins in a room nearby. “So you can begin?”

“My family?”

“Safe,” his smile had a hard edge and he didn’t try to hide the knife at his belt. “For now.”

“Then let’s get this done.”

The doctor rose and she rose with him, a look of concern marring her perfect features. “What have you-?”

“If harm befalls her,” Ezra threatened softly, grabbing a fistful of the doctor’s coat, “you know what will happen?”

The doctor gave him a curt nod and Ezra let him go. Waiting a moment he finally turned back to her. To his lover, his starshine…

His everything.

“What is happening?”

“A Name Day miracle, for all intents and purposes.” She seemed confused and he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “I might have performed a few dastardly deeds to move your case to the front of the line.”

“Oh Ezra, you didn’t-”

“Hush,” he kissed her once more. “I would do it again a thousand times over for you.”

“But what about after, Ezra? What happens to you?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I suppose I will need to find myself a new place to live, perhaps outside of where the law might reach. I don’t suppose you would want to come with me?”

For all his bravado he was shocked when she nodded, and even more so when she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead to his. “After you’ve done this for me? I would follow you anywhere, Ezra.”

“Sweet starshine,” he held her to him tightly for a moment before releasing her and stepping away, “you need to go and get your new heart.”

“You’ll be here when I’m done?”

He pulled her hand into his, pressing a kiss to the back. “I promise.”

“Cross your heart?”

With a smile he rubbed his lips on the blank spot where her finger once sat before letting her go. “Of course. But I must warn you, mine hasn’t been my own to promise for some time now.”

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Tagging in Adira once more. I hope you enjoyed your Ezra Holiday treat. @oonajaeadira

[colinmkl]

#WIPTOBER

A diagram of Sloane's leg prosthesis. I've never posted this but I use it all the time as refence.

The middle drawing is her "civilian" legs and the right is her "work" legs. the civilian legs let her walk and jog normally and they fit in pants and most shoes. In civilian mode she stands at 5'9", her approximate natural height. Where as the work legs let her run at more than human speeds as well as kick and jump with power. She can adjust the tension in the front pneumatic pistons with brain impulses to make them more or less bouncy. They also make her 3 inches taller (6'0"). The legs use the same socket thigh pieces and detach at the knee. So, yes, that does mean for the work legs she needs to put on the thighs, then her pants (cut off and hemmed above the knee, of course), then attach the rest of her leg. it's tricky but she's used to it at this point.

On the right you can see the Nanoderm caps on her stumps with the magnetic nodes and the bone spike port on the bottom. I never finished or posted this because I was afraid that drawing looked at bit silly floating there in that pose but I'm overthinking it. Amputees be missing bits, deal with it!

[katy-133]

Whose Skeleton Is Who? (TF2 Comic #7 Preview)

Regarding the issue 7 preview for the Team Fortress 2 comic, I know I joked a while ago that we as a fandom are trying to figure out which skeleton is which merc like we're reading and analysing that one page from The Castle of Fear by Patrick Burston all over again, but I wanted to take a moment to actually go through each skeleton and tell you the observations I've made, since I've noticed others' interpretations have sometimes been different, which I think is very interesting as someone who likes to compare art interpretations for fun.

Team Fortress 2 pays attention to art principles like colour theory, strong silhouettes, and invoking art history, and that also includes the comics, not just the games, and invites you to draw parallels between things.

So without further ado...

Miss Pauling ^

The preview script we get to read notes that the first skeleton we see (before the wide shot) is Miss Pauling's skeleton, which is in a crawling pose. It's meant to parallel a pose she does with a group of other vultures in an earlier part of the comic:

(Image: Comic issue 6, The Naked and the Dead)

Script transcript of the image below:

PANEL 2 We pull back to reveal a SKELETON, half-baked from years of wind-blown sand. The skeleton looks like it was crawling AWAY from something. It lifts a single skeleton hand out to nothing. VULTURES lurk. Let's try as best we can to mirror the position of the body and vultures from the opening of Issue #6, so it's clear we're insinuating this is MISS PAULING.

(Image: Script preview by writer Jay Pinkerton)

Additionally, her skeleton has two vultures above it, squabbling at each other (I assume over who gets to eat the skeleton marrow), which parallels Redmond and Blutard (the owners of RED and BLU, respectively) fighting each other over land and Miss Pauling "playing both sides" by pretending to only work for one of them.

Scout ^

The skeleton is in a running pose, representing Scout being characterised as the faster runner. The skeleton also has a brown shoe, similar to a pair Scout wears in Expiration Date to impress Miss Pauling.

(Right image, above: TF2 Official Wiki, Argyle Ace)

Soldier ^

The skeleton has the right arm up, similar to Soldier's pose when he's carrying his rocket launcher.

(Right image, above: TF2 Official Wiki, Soldier)

Pyro ^

The skeleton with the missing hip bones (or are hidden in some way by the sand and tree branches). In anatomy, the hip bones are one of the easiest ways to identify the sex of an adult skeleton (owing to the width of the hips being different if there is a birth canal). Pyro is gender ambiguous. The legs are also crossed, which is seen as more feminine body language when a person is sitting. This matches Pyro's body language, since Pyro's canonically done foot popping (a term coined by The Princess Diaries) which is associated with women film stars during the Golden Age of Hollywood.

(Image: The Jungle Inferno Update, Day 3)

Demoman ^

The vulture is pecking out the left eye socket of the skeleton, which is the eye socket that Demoman got cursed upon by reading the Bombinomicon. This creates a kinda visual parallel to Prometheus from Greek myth being cursed to have a bird of prey (an eagle) feast upon him as punishment for giving the forbidden knowledge of fire to humanity.

(Image: Bombinomicon comic)

The left leg is also missing at the knee, or majorly separated from the rest of the body, and Demoman can have a peg leg on his left side in the game:

(Image, above: Weapon Demonstration: Bootlegger, video by OfficialTF2Wiki)

Heavy ^

The skeleton with the largest ribcage, fitting Heavy's body silhouette. The skeleton also dwarfs the skeleton to the right of it, which invokes Heavy's size compared to the other mercs (he's the tallest merc in a lineup).

Engineer ^

The shortest skeleton. Note that the forearms are either missing or hidden in the sand, which invokes the image of Engineer being an amputee (missing his right arm at the forearm) and being the shortest merc when they're all A-posing. The skeleton is also wearing boots, which Engineer wears.

(Image: Reddit post titled, anyone else surprised that Scout isn't the shortest Merc? by Ok-Mastodon2016)

Medic ^

The tall skeleton that has the vulture with its beak poised over the skeleton's heart. Medic surgically removed and replaced each of their hearts, which allows them to be Ubercharged.

(Image: Meet the Medic video by Valve)

Sniper ^

The skeleton with its back lifted up by a stone, creating a visual focus towards it. The vulture is standing over the skeleton, as if it had been pecking at the skeleton's back. This could parallel being backstabbed, and I'm deducing the skeleton as Sniper's because his class is designed to counter Spy, who is the class who does backstabs. This skeleton also has brown shoes, which could be Spy's, but could also be Sniper's if he wears shoes instead of (what I had assumed before were) boots. Another vulture watches over the scene, perched on a higher ledge of rock and focused on that skeleton. Similar to how Sniper likes to climb up trees and higher ground to have a vantage point to scope areas.

Spy ^

The skeleton with a hole through the skull. This looks like a bullet wound from a headshot by a Sniper (again, Sniper and Spy are counter classes to each other).

I know this scene could be a bait and switch and that these aren't the mercs. I actually assume that's what the context is--otherwise, it'd be a pretty upsetting comic! But I think it's neat that the writers and artists went out of their way to make each skeleton characterised like this. The attention to detail is amazing, even in just this one page preview!

[outofthiisworld]

🐰// bnuuuy ........ thinking about him again, and since i'll be heading out to chill with the bestie today.......some oc development ramblings below heehee :)c

RABBOT (civilian name: Arlo) -previously known as HOTSHOT, part of Nowhere's own lil' hero team! Sweet and scrappy! Rabbot has a pep to his step and is the more personable, light-hearted of the bunch. Previously a speedster; an unfortunate accident left him an amputee from the knees-down. Despite the newfound struggles— he keeps his chin held high and hops right back into the hero scene, thanks to the gear and prosthetics custom-made by none other than ATLAS!

credit: Michael Fichtenmayer / fichtenfoo

Stumbled upon this wonderful figure made by the artist linked above and [chefs kiss] what an inspiration!!! there's something about rabbit themed characters that scratches an itch in my brain ..... I think I'd like to take Rabbot into a more modern and colorful design, though still a bit analog in the costume -> to play off of Arlo's happy-go-lucky attitude! 🌤️🐰🌤️

[anironwitch]

Nitpick November 3

Okay, so how does James prosthetics specifically his arm and chest prosthetics work?

Over the years, because of characters like Yang, Mercury, and (Mostly TBH) James. I have gotten into learning more about how prosthetics work.

(Pardon about the image quality being ass)

I have an okay understanding of below-the-knee amputations and above-the-knee amputations (BKA & AKA.) With James and Mercury having AKA amputations, their prosthetics would probably connect with the residual limb in a variety of ways, with suction or connecting pin system being the most common I have seen.

The same applies to Yang and her arm prosthetic, but James not only lost his entire right arm. (Eventually, yes, he loses his left arm, Something, Something, there is no war in Ba Sing Se and Volume 7, 8 & 9. I count it, but how it was acquired is because of Ableism and Racism in the Writers' choices put a rancid taste in my mouth as a Disabled Asian myself.)

James seems to have lost a fair amount of his body, and considering the implant/sensor, James has probably helped him regulate autonomic functions. It makes me wonder how much can he remove his chest prosthetic parts? He has to have them removed when they get wet or dirty, need to repair, adjustments, improvements, etc.?

Are James's prosthetics water-insoluble? They must be since you know he has to shower and deal with snow and rain? Most amputees remove their prosthetics when going to sleep, so does James only remove his right arm and leg prosthetics? Is it comfortable for him to sleep? Knowing James, I could see him being so tired he sleeps with them on anyway? Now, as someone who likes to fanfic mostly in my head, in private, and publishes sometimes. This leaves me with more questions and research I feel obliged to do.

[dannyfm]

Welcome to New York {DANIEL SUTTON} !! They are a {33} year old {CIS MAN} who uses {HE/HIM} pronouns. They’re an {EMERGENCY NURSE PRACTITIONER} who has been in town for {NINE YEARS}. When looking at {DANIEL} you automatically think of {THE CRACKLE OF A RECORD PLAYING, A REMINDER THAT TENDERNESS IS A VIRTUE, FIDGETING HANDS} but that probably makes sense since they also remind you of {JACOB ANDERSON}. You can always hear {VIENNA} by {BILLY JOEL} coming from their place. Who knows what kind of trouble they’re going to get themselves into. [penny, 25, gmt, n/a]

fullname:  daniel rené sutton. nickname(s): danny ( his preferred choice ), dan. age:  thirty-three. birthday: november 12th. gender / pronouns:  cis man ,  he / him. orientation:  bisexual / biromantic. place of birth: new orleans, louisiana current residence: queens, new york. languages: english, french, spanish & asl. height: 5'8. personality: loyal, empathetic, obsessive, stubborn.

( tw ; car accident, drunk driver, injury, depression & ptsd. )

born in new orleans, daniel was primarily raised by his mother ( originally from baton rouge ) and sisters, as his father ( originally from queens ) travelled a lot for work.

his kind-hearted nature and seemingly tireless desire to help people made of his choice of nursing for a career unsurprising. daniel graduated at the top of his class in his bsn and started work in nola as soon as he could.

the relocation to queens around a year later was the first and really only truly impulsive decision danny ever made. he'd been thinking about moving out of louisiana whilst still studying, but figured he'd never be brave enough to do it. he'd joke the endless teasing from his sister about it was the motivator.

he settled in queens, discovering he loved it more than he could ever dream of. with the goal of becoming a nurse practitioner in mind and the solidification of his love for emergency medicine, he took the exam to become a certified emergency nurse and a handful of other certifications. maybe not a necessary step, but one he enjoyed doing -- it felt like progress.

the next step was to get his msn, something he opted to do online. ( TW ) was cycling home from a night shift one morning when he was hit by a drunk driver at a crossing. he woke a couple of days later to a shock ( and thinking that it was funny that someone who worked in emergency medicine would be surprised by his injuries ). daniel had been lucky, really. at least, that's what people said -- at the time he could only think that was an unbelievably cruel thing to say. his right leg had been amputated ; initially below the knee but complications arose and so he ended up an above knee amputee. otherwise, he was pretty much unscathed. a smattering of scars here and there the only other thing to show for his ordeal.

not unexpectedly, daniel was diagnosed with ptsd and had fallen into depression immediately following the accident and suffered during much of his recovery. he refused to even think about his life beyond, let alone work ; his msn was paused and he insisted he would never go back to it for a while. eventually and no doubt entirely thanks to the efforts of friends, family & the professionals around him daniel came round.

by no means have either of those things become a non-issue in his life ( the level of pain he's in & the prevalence of depression are inextricably linked ), but they have dissipated significantly and well, when all else fails… there’s always throwing yourself into work or looking after someone else when you don't want to deal with your own problems. ( TW END )

since the accident just under a year and a half ago, daniel has completed his msn and settled into his role as an enp and overjoyed with the achievement of his goal.

headcanons

daniel has an orange cat called sidney ( sid ) who is a rescue and probably his best bud.

accent is kind of mess. the nola tinge ( non-rhotic, th = d pronunciation) ) is definitely at the forefront, but it's also influenced by the accents of his family from other areas of louisiana and queens. danny is very soft-spoken, borderline mumbly ( kinda will lamontagne-esque if ur familiar with criminal minds asdfak ) but also very aware that this can make him even more difficult to understand so he def has a 'phone / work voice ' he uses to be clearer.

big good samaritan vibes. he has a particular set of skills and Will show up with an advanced medical kit ready to fix anything he can if need be. also BIG into music. plays piano, violin & guitar ( mostly acoustic bc that's his personal preference ) and secretly has a very nice voice but he'd probably actually drop dead if someone ever mentioned that.

probably an ambivert, but also shy as hell. he's definitely got a lot less shy since starting work just out of necessity but still prefers to blend into the background at social events and with people he doesn't know. it's something he's trying to work on. has a massive heart, his friendship is not hard to win but damn near impossible to shake off ( not least bc he knows he was sometimes an A+ asshole in recovery and anyone who stuck around through that deserves at least the same energy from him. )

wanted connections page. pinterest board.

literally everything pls. best friend, good friends, a bad / good influence who encourages him to socialise & get out of his comfort zone more, ex & present day crushes / flings, neighbours, flirtationship, exes & co workers.

[cy-cyborg]

Hi, I was wondering what sort of leg prosthetic would work well in a fight? I'm designing a magical girl OC with a prosthetic leg and want to incorporate a rather more pink and sparkly one into her magical girl form. I know you can get blades for running, but would those be better than a normal prosthetic for running and leaping around while bonking monsters with a magic stick?

Hey there, I think I remember seeing your question on my old account right? I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you!

So a blade probably wouldn't be ideal, but a hybrid might.

Blade prosthetics are very good for running, but are absolutely terrible for literally everything else, including standing or walking. Essentially, blade prosthetics are modeled off of digitigrade legs. For the non-furries on my page, digitigrade legs are what cats and dogs have on their back legs where it bends at the knee, then bends back the other way at a second joint before their feet.

[ID 1: A pair of black running blade prosthetics with yellow edges. Their wearer is out of frame but we can see they are running along a track. /end ID] [ID 2: A photo of a cheetah from the side. In the photo we can clearly see the structure of its legs, as described above. /End ID]

This is actually their ankle, and their "foot" is their toes. This arrangement makes these animals really fast and nimble, but it comes at the cost of lower balance. That's not an issue when you have another two legs to help keep you steady, but when you put that onto a human we start having issues. This is why if you watch any races where the competitors are using these prosthetics, they almost always fall over, especially the double leg amputees. Essentially, the shape and springiness of a blade gives you a massive speed advantage (so much so that amputee runner Oscar Pistorius had to be given disadvantages in order to compete in the Olympics with able-bodied runners) but it essentially moves the ankle joint and heel - the one our brains automatically know to weight bare through - up off the ground. The closest an able bodied person could get to the feeling of running on a blade would be to wear a pair of stilleto heels with the heal removed, and a spring on the bottom.

Hybrid feet though are a combination of blade feet and the regular feet amputees usually get. They are like tiny blades, but they usually have a foot-shell on the outside so you don't see it. These hybrid feet give you some of the extra padding and suspension you'd get from a running blade (which makes running/jumping etc more comfortable) as well as a bit of a speed boost, though not as much as the big ones, and they don't come at the cost of your balance, which you'r character will need when fighting.

Ossur's Flex foot range are a good one to look at for refeance, I used them when I was doing martial arts, as do a few friends of mine who are still doing it. This is a link to their website, it's got pictures of what they look like both internally and when people are using them, and I beleive theirs a booklet you can download on the page as well if you want to read into them a bit more. This isn't the only one of course, but it's the one I've used before:

I'm planning to do a breakdown in a little bit more detail about the different types of prosthetic feet and what they're good for eventually, but for what you described, I think this is what would work best.

[orionisrping]

Name: Casper

Age: 16

Pronouns: any pronouns

Sexuality: bi

Fav Color: blue

Hobbies: embroidery, hanging out

Relationships Status:

A couple likes: hades cabin, horror, movies, talking to ghosts and the dead, spooking younger campers

A couple dislikes: Zeus and assholes

A bit about yourself :

- child of Melionë

- silent and barely makes noice when moving around

- slightly floats above the ground (like 3mm) that adds to the creepy silent walking around camp

- spends time with the hades kids and calls them uncle/aunt

- likes to play board games

- desperately in love with an idiot Aphrodite camper

Name: Ophelia

Nickname: Ophy, cupid

Age: 17

Pronouns: she/they

Sexuality: pan

Gender Identity: demigirl

Where they're from: Toronto, Canada

Fav Color: red and it's various shades

Hobbies: matchmaking people, reading romance books and rom coms, training, board games

Relationships Status: taken by her lovely partners

A couple likes: Valentine's day, all that lovey dovey stuff, flying, swimming, and makeup

A couple dislikes: mean people and homophobes

A bit about yourself:

- daughter of Eros

- has a twin sister named Angel

- very nosey

- likes dying her hair or helping others (makeover night)

- animal lover, especially birds

- hangs around the Aphrodite kids and on rooftops like a bird

- flirty af

Name: Wren Dream Quickfoot

Age: 18

Pronouns: she/they

Sexuality: queer

Likes: stealing shit, running from people she stole from, taking care of the community ...

Dislikes: pain (obviously), fancy dress codes, rich people...

Info: robin hood coded

Image wouldn't connect so its at the bottom

Name: Rio

Age: 17

Pronouns: they/any

Sexuality: fuck if they know

Gender Identity: genderfluid

Fav Color: black (but if we're being pedantic probably like neon yellow or something)

Hobbies: painting, music and studying

Relationships Status:

A couple likes: birds (corvids), tea, mac and cheese, goth music, epistemology, night time

A couple dislikes: the sun, Ares, Zeus, water, being sick (chronically ill)

A bit about yourself:

- plague centric Apollo kid

- chronically ill (they have little control over their legs)

- came to camp later than normal because they got lost

- steals books from the Athena cabin and Will's collection (don't tell them)

- gets sick when they're away from the sun for too long

- has bad eyesight because they keep looking into the sun

Character’s full name: Béatrice Desvignes

Character’s nickname: Bee

Birth date: April 1st

Cabin: 12

Sexuality: queer

Gender identity: nonbinary

Favorite color: purple

Age: 17? (Slightly confused because they were in the labyrinth for about two years)

How old do they appear: 17

Weight: Idk

Height: 5'5"

Body build: pear

Shape of face: oval

Eye color: purple

Skin tone: tanned

Distinguishing marks: shitty floral tattoo on the right arm that is slashed by a large claw mark

Hair color: red but dyed purple

Relationship status:

Physical disabilities: below the knee amputee on the left leg

A few likes: animals mostly cats of all kinds, plants, sunlight (they miss it)...

A few dislikes: bullies, most of the gods (not a fan but not a Luke supporter)...

Good personality traits: cares for people a lot, protective af...

Bad personality traits: gets really into things easily, is highly vigilant...

Mood character is most often in: scared (until they get used to being out of the labyrinth)

Powers: can give people non-permanent hallucinations, can grow vines

Purple hair is bee, green is Wren

[dear-indies]

hi cat!! thank you so much for all you do, i hope your day is going well! i was wondering if you have any favorite fcs for a woman in her late 50s-early 70s!

Harriet Walter (1950) - signed artistsforpalestine, for Starmer to stop selling arms to Isr*el!

Tantoo Cardinal (1950) Métis of Cree.

Shabana Azmi (1950) Indian.

Geraldine Keams (1951) Navajo.

Shohreh Aghdashloo (1952) Iranian.

Carla-Rae (1956) Mohawk, Seneca, and White.

Juliet Stevenson (1956) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Sheri Foster (1957) Cherokee.

Kathy Najimy (1957) Lebanese.

Angela Bassett (1958) African-American.

María Telón (1958) Guatemalan [Kaqchikel].

Tamara Tunie (1959) Lenape, African-American, and White.

Elaine Miles (1960) Cayuse, Nez Perce.

Kristin Scott Thomas (1960)

Abeer Issa (1961) Palestinian / Jordanian.

Shobu Kapoor (1961) Indian - has spoken up for Palestine!

Joan Chen (1961) Chinese.

Rena Owen (1962) Ngāti Hine and White.

Michelle Yeoh (1962) Malaysian [Chinese].

Suzanne Packer (1962) Taino, Afro-Jamaican, White.

Alexandra Billings (1962) African-American. Unspecified Indigenous, White - is trans.

Ming Na Wen (1963) Macanese / Malaysian Chinese.

Vanessa Williams (1963) African-American, Welsh, English - has type 1 diabetes.

Sabrina Ferilli (1964) - has spoken up for Palestine!

Famke Janssen (1964)

Michelle Forbes (1965) Mexican, English, possibly other.

Sudha Chandran (1965) Indian - is a right leg above the knee amputee.

Tamlyn Tomita (1966) Ryukyuan, Japanese, and Ilocano Filipino.

Cynthia Nixon (1966) - is queer - has spoken up for Palestine!

Diana Lee Inosanto (1966) Filipino, Irish, Chinese, and White.

Kim Sung-ryung (1967) Korean.

If this has helped you in any way please consider donating to a Palestinian fund me and/or please consider reblogging content about Palestine if you haven’t already!

[modestvm]

PENNY, 24, GMT; SHE/HER. | if you’re hearing VIENNA by BILLY JOEL playing, you have to know GABRIEL MOORE (HE/HIM; CIS MAN) is near by! the THIRTY-FOUR year old HISTORY PROFESSOR has been in denver for, like, THREE YEARS. they’re known to be quite OBSTINATE, but being ALLOCENTRIC seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble JACOB ANDERSON. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those WANDERING EMPTY MUSEUMS, THE GLOW FROM A LAPTOP SCREEN and ROLLED-UP SHIRT SLEEVES AND V-NECK JUMPERS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRICT long enough! 

full name: gabriel isaac moore. nicknames: gabe, abe. gender and pronouns: cis man, he/him. age: thirty-four. sexuality: bisexual. date of birth: july 15th. zodiac sign: cancer ( loyal, creative, sensitive, insecure. ) place of birth:  bristol, england. occupation: assistant professor of history, university of denver.

born and raised in bristol, the youngest of three with two older sisters. as a diplomatic service officer their father was away more often than not, so gabe was raised by his mother and sisters.

his interest in writing, reading and history was a curveball. aside from his father, the rest of the family's interests were firmly rooted in stem. they were ( perhaps justifiably ) worried that gabriel's interests would not give him much success in life. but he was determined to pursue his passion and after graduating top of his class at bristol uni for undergrad, went on to get his master's and phd in history at st andrew's.

moved to london after graduation wondering what to do with himself and fell into teaching. completed his teaching qual and sought out a role teaching history whilst continuing to research and publish occasionally on the side to keep up with developments in the academic world.

( tw: car accident, injury, depression & ptsd ) was cycling to work as per usual one day when he was hit by a drunk driver at a crossing. he woke up just short of a week later to a shock. gabe had been lucky, really. at least, that's what everyone said -- at the time he couldn't only think that was a cruel thing to say. his right leg had been amputated, originally below the knee but complications did not go his way and so shortly after he became an above knee amputee. otherwise, he was pretty much unscathed - scars here and there the only thing to show of his ordeal now.

slightly reeling and with nothing to really do during his recovery, gabriel turned back to the work he loved. this was something of a relief to friends and family as, not unexpectedly, gabe was diagnosed with ptsd and depression immediately following the accident and suffered during much of his recovery. by no means have either of those things become a non-issue in his life, but they have dissipated and significantly and well, when all else fails… there’s always throwing yourself into work or looking after someone else. he wrote a monograph, a social history of black africans in renaissance england that was eventually published just under five years ago now.

riding on the back of the book's success, a desire to return to academia and for a change of scenery he began applying for jobs. the offer from the university of denver came through and he took it and uprooted to denver. this was where his family’s relief was dampened; they thought it was a rash decision ( they weren’t wrong, but gabe was never one to change his mind once it was set and they knew it ) 

gabe has been in denver for three years now, comfortable in his position at the university but also keen to engage with as many people as possible. he runs a sort of 'history 101' evening class at the community college for anyone to attend.

wanted connections page ! gimme literally everything pls.