#this one is way over due

[welcome-to-the-districts]

Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

Major TW for violence, injury and blood.  This one-shot was written after listening to this particular cover. I highly recommend checking it out.

Summary: You are one of Rusty’s most favored humans, but the stress from the higher ups of the yard along with reduced rations are putting a strain on him. The beast within cannot be contained for long. Will he be able to keep himself in check? Or will you face perilous danger and potentially suffer a horrible fate?

One-shot under the cut.

You smile as you make your way towards the freight yard, looking forward to seeing one of your closest coworkers. You have just started your break, albeit it’s later than yesterday, but your boss didn’t allow you to take it unless you made sure all the passengers had left the passenger train. It’s one of your duties as a passenger service attendant. You don’t mind working with Greaseball, considering how much he has become humbled after the races. However, he’s not the one you’re looking forward to seeing. Out of all the engines here, you’ve taken a liking to the young steamer in the freight yard, Rusty. Your coworkers have warned you to be careful around him. You didn’t come here without knowing the risks. You had taken the time to research the different types of rolling stock at least a little bit. You know steamers are powerful predators and are to be approached with extreme caution. However, Rusty has never harmed a single human in his life. 

Sure, Poppa has attacked at least one worker, who had recently disappeared a few months ago. You’re not quite sure why no one refuses to talk about it and why you suddenly got a big raise. It’s odd, as if they are trying  to keep people here, or are they trying to keep people quiet? You’re not sure but that’s not important at the moment. You’re more concerned about seeing your friend. Hopefully, he hasn’t let his victory at the races get to him, or had become stressed from the sudden surge of attention. 

You stop at the gates. The chain link fence goes all along the perimeter of the freight yard. You ponder for a moment. If Poppa and Rusty are so dangerous, then why don't the higher ups put up a much stronger fence to keep them from escaping if things go wrong? You shrug it off and open the gates before stepping into the freight yard. It’s oddly quiet. It seems the freight trucks are taking a much needed break. You begin to think Rusty may very well be on break as well, likely spending time with Pearl as always. You jump as you hear his familiar whistle and Rusty races over to you with a toothy grin. Steam billows from his nostrils and between his sharp teeth.

Rusty races around you in circles while he chirps excitedly before he screeches to a stop just in front of you. Sparks fly from his wheels and fall onto the concrete, which quickly extinguishes them. He looks down at you with his warm amber eyes. You are a little under half his size. Rusty is easily a bit over ten feet tall, mostly likely twelve feet exactly. Despite this, you never have felt intimidated by him. He never really made you feel unsafe. You feel comfortable around him, safe even. 

“What took you so long? I was beginning to worry a little bit. The diesels didn’t give you a hard time did they? I know they tend to be dangerous at times.” Rusty asks, concern visible on his face. He looks you up and down as if he’s checking you over for wounds. He bends down and sniffs at you like a large dog, seeing if he could pick up the scent of blood. You watch as he relaxes, relieved you’re unharmed. His smile returns and you’re able to get a good look at those sharp teeth of his. They remind you of the teeth of a great lion. His canines are a bit longer than Greaseball’s, which is normal for a steamer. His teeth are built for the kill, adapted for him to easily rip pieces of flesh from his kills. They’re a reminder of a steamer's nature, predatory, and dangerous. Yet he has always been so gentle with you. 

His amber eyes almost have a glint of mischief to them. It’s not uncommon for the steamer to pull some small prank or tell a joke he has learned from the freight trucks, specifically Flat-Top. Some of which were more for adults yet went right over his head. You’re sure he’d grow to learn the true meaning of the jokes. As for the moment, he seems perfectly fine and docile. Despite this, you know the food rations have been reduced and the workload has been increased on the rolling stock, putting more stress on the rolling stock and the human workers alike. The recent budget cuts have taken their toll on both the workers and the rolling stock alike. It could make for a potentially disastrous situation. However, Rusty still seems to be his usual self. Perhaps this isn’t as bad as you thought it was. 

“Sorry I’m late. My boss wouldn’t let me take my break until I finished unloading the passengers and checking to see if anyone stayed behind. They put Greaseball back on passenger service today. He’s still a little upset after Mike disappeared, but he’s doing better. Dinah definitely was a big help when it came to cheering him up. She’s been spending a lot more time with him apparently.” You reply. You watch as Rusty’s smile falters for a moment, as if you had said something that bothered him. You give him a puzzled look and he quickly shakes it off. 

“Your boss should’ve let you take your break at the time it’s scheduled to be on. It’s not fair to you as you have a break scheduled. Your boss can’t go against it. As for Mike disappearing.. the police didn’t even bother to look into it and the higher ups just.. swept it under the rug.” Rusty's smile fades and his expression becomes much more serious. The mischievous glint in his eyes disappears. “Be careful around Greaseball. He’s not as friendly as I am. I know he’s changed since the races. I don’t want you to get hurt. 

This is a change you weren’t expecting to see in Rusty. Deep down, you feel a bit worried, but you quickly shake it off. You have to be careful with any of the rolling stock you work with anyway. It’s simply common sense. You simply nod, avoiding his gaze. A nervous behavior you quickly correct. You can’t act nervous or anxious around him. It could end in disaster.

“I understand.. Are you okay, Rusty? Did I say something that bothered you? I’m sorry if I did.” You fret. Rusty’s expression softens

“Note taken.. Are you okay? Is something going on?” You ask him. His expression softens and he gives you a small reassuring smile. 

“I’m okay. I’m just worried about you is all. Just.. please, be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to disappear like how Mike did.” Rusty replies. He may have a warm and soft smile on his face but his eyes are riddled with concern. It’s a dead giveaway to you that he’s really not okay. You know he’s worried sick about you. You are well aware of the dangers. The red caboose, CB, has already tricked you once. You were lucky Rusty was able to stop him when he did. You dread to think about what may have happened if he hadn’t intervened when he did. You most certainly won’t make the same mistake twice, and refuse to trust him now.  

“I know, Rusty.. I know. I’m making sure to be careful. I learned my lessons from CB. I try my best to be as careful as I can. Don’t worry, Rusty. I’ll be okay.” Your smile returns as the gentle warmth returns to Rusty’s gaze and he gives a soft smile in return. 

…

Rusty feels a wave of relief wash over him as he hears you say that and he smiles softly, giving you a glimpse of those sharp teeth of his. He knows he has to watch over you even more closely now since the fuel rations have been reduced to almost half of the usual amount. The others have been growing restless, needing to forage or hunt, but the higher ups keep piling on the work. However, they still try to hunt or forage when they can. Rusty has recently resorted to feeding on the rodents that hide out near the freight sheds whenever he can. They aren’t much, but they are just enough to keep him going. He has been trying not to take too many to try and ensure the rodents are able to repopulate and leave some for the other rolling stock to feed on, but unfortunately, with a good few of the freight trucks, and even some of Greaseball’s gang feeding off the the rodent population, their food supply is almost already depleted, unable to keep up with the relentless predation. 

He knows it’s only a matter of time before he has to leave the train yard to go out and hunt. The others will be quick to follow too. He’d rather not have to fight for his share of prey, but if his survival depends on it, he will. The rodents aren’t enough to feed everyone. Rusty knows that. On top of that, stress has been building up with more work being piled on him and the others. Not to mention the fact he is barely eating enough to keep himself functional. It’s pushing him to his limits both mentally and physically. It’s only a matter of time before something or someone snaps and it will be just like the time Poppa attacked Mike all over again. If Rusty hadn’t been there to help Mike and keep Poppa distracted, Mike wouldn’t have made it, only for Mike to end up being killed and probably eaten by the dreaded diesel he was close to. It hurt to think about, but he knew Greaseball was only acting out of instinct. 

He winces ever so slightly as he felt his hunger gnawing at his very core like fangs. He knows he can’t let you be around him for too long, as each minute you’re around him is increasing the risk of him losing control, but he just wants to  make sure you’re okay for now. His hunger be damned. He can see if he find another one of the smaller animals he routinely sees around the yard. He can feel the beast beginning to claw at the deepest recesses of his mind, screaming at him to take the opportunity for a quick and easy meal, a means of guaranteeing his chance of survival. He quickly takes his focus off of you and looks up at the clock. He knows his break will be coming soon. He focuses on the clock behind you as he shifts anxiously ever so slightly. He needs to eat. He needs to hunt. It’s the only way he can survive at this point. 

He glances at you anxiously and whines softly like a large dog. He’s trying to keep himself from snapping but your scent and the sound of your heartbeat is almost enough to drive him mad. He considers simply leaving but he doesn’t want to push you away so suddenly. His gaze snaps towards you as he hears you speak.

…

“Are you okay?” You ask him. You almost flinch as the steamer’s amber gaze snaps towards you. Something is wrong. You know there is and it worries you. Rusty shifts a bit. His gaze never leaves you for a moment, as if he’s locked onto you. The warmth in his gaze is fading. You start to feel uneasy and glance around, seeing any escape routes you can take just in case he does happen to snap.

“Oh.. I just have to return to work soon. Maybe we can talk another time, hm? I promise I’ll see if I can get some more time set aside so I can talk to you a little more later, okay?” Rusty’s smile is forced and he fiddles with his thumbs. A lie. Rusty doesn’t like to lie to you or anyone for that matter and you know it. For him to lie outright like that.. something isn’t right. He glances back up the clock behind you. He knows. You noticed something is up and he’s not sure how to react to that. Rusty still continues to fight that unseen battle with himself deep within his own mind. The beast is starting to break free of its cage, and there’s only so much he can do about it now. 

You start to have a suspicion about what may be going on. You remember the fact the rations for the rolling stock are reduced, meaning Rusty wouldn’t be able to eat as much as he needs to in order to keep those instincts under wraps. That’s when it hits you. He’s losing control and he’s trying to redirect his attention away from you just in case he does lose control of himself. You know you may not have enough to give him a decent meal, but you can at least take the edge off of him just a tiny bit. It may just save not just yourself but the lives of your coworkers as well. 

“I can let you have my lunch. I can always go and always see if I can get something to eat from Dinah, or I can go out to eat at one of the restaurants if I need to. I wouldn’t mind it if I needed to bring something back from there too if you want. I can get you anything you want, honest.” You give him a reassuring smile. Rusty’s gaze slowly returns to you and he quickly nods. You don’t waste time and rush out of the freight yard and towards the parking lot outside of the parking lot. You unlock your car and grab your lunch box before you slam your car door and lock it before you race back into the train yard. You check your surroundings, making sure none of the other rolling stock could pose a potential danger to you before you race into the freight yard. You barely managed to race into the open gates before you trip over your own two feet and you fall, scaring your knee against the ground and drawing only a small amount of blood. 

You curse under your breath and hiss in pain as you feel the stinging sensation on one of your knees. You scramble back up to your feet and grab your lunch box once more as Rusty approaches you to help you. You look up to reassure him you're fine when you feel a knot begin to form in your stomach and your chest feels right as your heart races.

Rusty is looking right at you. The warmth in his amber gaze is no longer there as all trained civility fell from his face, revealing the beast dwelling deep within his very being. His amber eyes are now piercing and predatory as he lifts his lips into a snarl as he lets out a soft growl. The sound shakes you to your core as you feel it shake the ground beneath your feet. He begins to salivate as he takes one step closer to you, looking over you, making you feel that much smaller compared to him as those amber eyes bore deep within your soul. There is only one word that comes to your mind: run.

You immediately drop your lunch box and take off running as fast as you can. Your life depends on it more than ever.

…

The sweet scent of your blood hits his nose and he finally caves in. The beast finally broke free of its confines and is now running rampant. He's no longer the steamer you have once grown to adore. He's now the blood-thirsty monster his kind is known to be. He doesn't want to be this way at all, but he cannot deny what he truly is. He's a killing machine, designed to hunt, to kill. His hunger overrode any sense of civility he had left. He bares his teeth in an almost wolfish grin as he watches you run and his sharp predatory gaze becomes fixed on you.  His pupils contract to cat-like slits as he lets out a deep guttural growl from within his chest before he gives chase, taking off like a shot with a great roar. He quickly catches up to you, yet he keeps a small distance between you and him. He’s drawing it out, wanting nothing more than to relish the chase and the primal fear of his prey. He knows once he catches you, there will be no mercy for you. For now, he’s going to enjoy this moment, savor the chase.

…

You hear the steamer beginning to gain on you. Rusty’s hot breath rolling down the back of your neck as he growls deep in his chest, a sound you feel through your feet and in your chest. Oddly enough, he doesn’t pounce on you or grab you. It’s as if he’s toying with you, knowing you have nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. He has you right where he wants you and that alone is a terrifying thought. You frantically look around to see if you can find any coworkers nearby. It looks as if they too are on a rather late break. Somehow you are not surprised at this. The higher ups have been getting worse when it comes to that. They’re trying to make everyone work more with less payment, and in the rolling stock’s case, less food or fuel, which makes things worse.

You quickly turn a corner and for a moment, Rusty stumbles and reaches out for you. You feel the wind of the sheer force of his arm swinging at you. You glance behind you to see if he’s given up. Rusty snarls in frustration and opens his fists. Razor sharp claws unsheathe in place of fingernails. You remember Mike telling you steamers don’t have nowhere near as much control over their claws than the other types of rolling stock. The claws only sheathe if their hands are closed into fists. Their hand muscles aren’t made to sheathe and unsheathe the claws like the others. Steamers are built for the chase, built for the kill. Primal fear rushes through you as you look away and scramble for a place to hide.

…

Rusty snarls and opens his fists. He sinks his claws into the concrete to slow himself down for a moment. His nostrils flare as his eyes smolder with rage as he sees the fear in your eyes. He’s not about to be outmaneuvered by a human, such an easy prey item to him. He quickly recovers and picks up speed once more. This time, he has the intent to snatch you and to go for the kill. His mouth waters at the mere thought of sinking his teeth into your tender throat, wanting to aim for the windpipe to end this swiftly. He flexes his claws as he begins to gain on you, eager to snatch a quick and easy meal.

He can smell your fear, hear your racing heartbeat. It’s almost torture to him. He can’t wait any longer. He needs food and he needs it now.

….

Tears well up in your eyes as you begin to grow tired. You know you can’t run forever, meanwhile the dreaded steamer is quickly closing in. You have to hide somewhere and fast. You finally spot the freight shed and use some of the last bit of your energy to sprint towards it. You try to open the doors, but they’re far too heavy, or they are locked. You’re left shaking and terrified. You see Poppa’s shed is right next to it and you check behind you. Rusty is just about to pounce on you as he’s mere inches from you. The feral look in his eyes is something that will never leave your memories. That’s not the Rusty you know. That’s the true nature of the steamers, wild, predatory and famished. Rusty’s jaws open, revealing a set of teeth specifically to tear into prey. His canines are the longest you’ve ever seen, rivaling Greaseball’s. 

You quickly duck down between his legs as he pounces, slamming right into the doors of the shed and he roars. It echoes throughout the freight yard and shakes you to your very core. The ground shakes beneath your feet and you cover your ears as they begin to ring. Rusty quickly whips around to face you. His expression is one of a feral snarl and he growls deep in his chest. The anger, the rage in his eyes is truly terrifying. He lunges for you and you quickly slip between the small gap between Poppa’s shed and the freight shed as you scream for help.

Rusty’s claws dig into the sides of both sheds as his amber eyes smolder with rage and ravenous hunger as he snaps his jaws at you. He snarls as he begins to salivate, as if he’s anticipating finally sinking his teeth into you. His claws leave deep marks in the sides of sheds as he tries to force his way between the two sheds. You shrink back as one of his hands barely misses you, the claws nearly grazing your skin. Rusty pulls his arms back and inhales deeply. You see the fire in his firebox in his chest rising as you feel the temperature rise rapidly. Rusty almost has a wolfish grin, as if he’s figured out how to finally get to you. His powerful jaws open, revealing the fiery glow at the back of his throat. It glows brighter as the fire rushes up his esophagus.

You begin to lose hope before the doors to the freight shed slam open. It all happens so fast. You see a large blue and white blur crash into Rusty just as the steamer unleashed a blast of flame. Most of it was redirected away from you, but the mere heat coming from it is enough to burn your arms as you try to shield yourself from the immense heat. You cry out in pain and hear the steamer’s screech. It’s a sound that curdles the blood. You sob and cover your ears. Dustin, the big hopper, rushes back to check on you. He’s a mess. His body riddles with scratches and bites wounds. His own mouth has traces of blood on it. He almost looks sick. 

“Run! Go! I’ll keep him busy! Go find Wrench!” Dustin cries out just as Rusty attacks him from behind, prompting a screech from Dustin. His expression turns one of rage as Dustin snarls and delivers a powerful blow to Rusty’s side. Rusty screeches and Dustin quickly pins him against the wall freight shed, letting out his own growl. The sound puts Rusty’s growl to shame and you begin to understand why the diesels never really messed with Dustin that much. He’s the only one of the freight capable of standing a chance against a steamer. You nod and gather your courage before darting out from your hiding place and towards the gates. Once you reach the gates, you check behind you. 

You watch as Rusty slowly begins to soften as Dustin still has him pinned. Dustin pleads with Rusty to come back to him in hopes of bringing the steamer back from his feral state. Rusty blinks a few times and panics. Dustin quickly releases him and Rusty asks Dustin something in a panic. Dustin points to you and answers him. Rusty’s expression turns to sheer horror as he sees you so terrified. His gaze shifts to your arms, where you’ve been burned. Tears well up in his eyes and he looks as if he’s going to vomit. He covers his mouth and quickly races off, as if he can’t handle the guilt of looking at you. You turn your gaze forward and open the gates before you rush off to find Wrench. You know this won’t be reported. They never are. You begin to have an idea as to what happened to Mike, but you simply can’t face the truth.

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[anne-is-confused]

The words hung above (but never would form)

[halorvic]

The danger is clear and present: COVID isn’t merely a respiratory illness; it’s a multi-dimensional threat impacting brain function, attacking almost all of the body’s organs, producing elevated risks of all kinds, and weakening our ability to fight off other diseases. Reinfections are thought to produce cumulative risks, and Long COVID is on the rise. Unfortunately, Long COVID is now being considered a long-term chronic illness — something many people will never fully recover from. Dr. Phillip Alvelda, a former program manager in DARPA’s Biological Technologies Office that pioneered the synthetic biology industry and the development of mRNA vaccine technology, is the founder of Medio Labs, a COVID diagnostic testing company. He has stepped forward as a strong critic of government COVID management, accusing health agencies of inadequacy and even deception. Alvelda is pushing for accountability and immediate action to tackle Long COVID and fend off future pandemics with stronger public health strategies. Contrary to public belief, he warns, COVID is not like the flu. New variants evolve much faster, making annual shots inadequate. He believes that if things continue as they are, with new COVID variants emerging and reinfections happening rapidly, the majority of Americans may eventually grapple with some form of Long COVID. Let’s repeat that: At the current rate of infection, most Americans may get Long COVID.

[...]

LP: A recent JAMA study found that US adults with Long COVID are more prone to depression and anxiety – and they’re struggling to afford treatment. Given the virus’s impact on the brain, I guess the link to mental health issues isn’t surprising. PA: There are all kinds of weird things going on that could be related to COVID’s cognitive effects. I’ll give you an example. We’ve noticed since the start of the pandemic that accidents are increasing. A report published by TRIP, a transportation research nonprofit, found that traffic fatalities in California increased by 22% from 2019 to 2022. They also found the likelihood of being killed in a traffic crash increased by 28% over that period. Other data, like studies from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, came to similar conclusions, reporting that traffic fatalities hit a 16-year high across the country in 2021. The TRIP report also looked at traffic fatalities on a national level and found that traffic fatalities increased by 19%. LP: What role might COVID play? PA: Research points to the various ways COVID attacks the brain. Some people who have been infected have suffered motor control damage, and that could be a factor in car crashes. News is beginning to emerge about other ways COVID impacts driving. For example, in Ireland, a driver’s COVID-related brain fog was linked to a crash that killed an elderly couple. Damage from COVID could be affecting people who are flying our planes, too. We’ve had pilots that had to quit because they couldn’t control the airplanes anymore. We know that medical events among U.S. military pilots were shown to have risen over 1,700% from 2019 to 2022, which the Pentagon attributes to the virus.

[...]

LP: You’ve criticized the track record of the CDC and the WHO – particularly their stubborn denial that COVID is airborne. PA: They knew the dangers of airborne transmission but refused to admit it for too long. They were warned repeatedly by scientists who studied aerosols. They instituted protections for themselves and for their kids against airborne transmission, but they didn’t tell the rest of us to do that.

[...]

LP: How would you grade Biden on how he’s handled the pandemic? PA: I’d give him an F. In some ways, he fails worse than Trump because more people have actually died from COVID on his watch than on Trump’s, though blame has to be shared with Republican governors and legislators who picked ideological fights opposing things like responsible masking, testing, vaccination, and ventilation improvements for partisan reasons. Biden’s administration has continued to promote the false idea that the vaccine is all that is needed, perpetuating the notion that the pandemic is over and you don’t need to do anything about it. Biden stopped the funding for surveillance and he stopped the funding for renewing vaccine advancement research. Trump allowed 400,000 people to die unnecessarily. The Biden administration policies have allowed more than 800,000 to 900,000 and counting.

[...]

LP: The situation with bird flu is certainly getting more concerning with the CDC confirming that a third person in the U.S. has tested positive after being exposed to infected cows. PA: Unfortunately, we’re repeating many of the same mistakes because we now know that the bird flu has made the jump to several species. The most important one now, of course, is the dairy cows. The dairy farmers have been refusing to let the government come in and inspect and test the cows. A team from Ohio State tested milk from a supermarket and found that 50% of the milk they tested was positive for bird flu viral particles.

[...]

PA: There’s a serious risk now in allowing the virus to freely evolve within the cow population. Each cow acts as a breeding ground for countless genetic mutations, potentially leading to strains capable of jumping to other species. If any of those countless genetic experiments within each cow prove successful in developing a strain transmissible to humans, we could face another pandemic – only this one could have a 58% death rate. Did you see the movie “Contagion?” It was remarkably accurate in its apocalyptic nature. And that virus only had a 20% death rate. If the bird flu makes the jump to human-to-human transition with even half of its current lethality, that would be disastrous.

[shikisei]

great expectations

[clambuoyance]

[DC] doodled these two a lot this week

[bottombaron]

i think i've hit the limit of my Persian knowledge trying to translate Al Qolindar and it's driven me mad...

[paradoxlemonade]

@mcyt-summer-of-yuri gift for @sooonah !!! It's Gempearl in a Secret Life mage AU <3

[wirefoxedterrier]

My biggest frustrations with the anti-vegan posts that garner thousands of notes on this app are they tend to always be points actively discussed in vegan spaces since their creation.

Veganism varies by circles and isn’t a protected word, so is absolutely used by Instagram dieters and misanthropes who have never considered the oppression of humans, but veganism has also has (and has had for decades) active discussion about the requirement to support human and social liberation alongside that of non-human animals. All leftist vegans I know firmly agree that non-human liberation of the environment and other animals is not going to happen and is futile without just as much focus on all the other injustices in a capitalist society. That includes a holistic boycott whenever possible of products and enterprises that harm humans alongside avoiding animal produce .

Of course like, the tumblr users making these posts probably haven’t seen these vegan circles or discussions because they’re not in them, and the health dieters and non-intersectional single issue focused activists are pretty vocal and infuriating, but still. It’s so infuriating to see people bringing these up as a gotcha towards veganism based off things that vegans have greatly in depth discussions, prioritising the voices of those whom are minorities, for so long.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bestie Deficiency

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[deoidesign]

Thinks about my next series again... I drew the icon for it!

I'm planning to have it launched within a year! I'm hoping for summer 2025. I want to make a prelaunch page before Time and Time Again ends so people can subscribe if they're interested, but I'm worried the series return would be too early...

[lucalicatteart]

 sculpted a strange shimmery two headed snail, speckled with wild flowers on it's shell~

[robotwrangler]

I think one of my favourite visual details about TAU (2018) is its unique approach to the whole “robot/ai whose eyes turn red when they turn evil” trope. The way the colour of TAU’s display gradually changes over the course of the movie is just so lovely and so immensely important to me.

The rest of this post contains spoilers for basically the whole movie, so if you are concerned about that, please feel free to go and watch it first! This post will still be here when you are done :]

Initially, TAU’s light is completely red - aside from a slight orange tone in the centre of his “iris” - when he is still in his emotionally blank, unquestioning, “factory settings” state. The orange tones become more prevalent as he begins to speak with Julia, and the inner rings adopt an increasingly vibrant green as they interact more and his care for her and curiosity about the outside world grow, along with his defiance and resentment of Alex.

Once TAU reaches the point at which his loyalties lie firmly with Julia, only the outer edge of his display is red, the centre being a gradient from orange to bright gold to bright green, and glowing so much more brightly as well. When he shares his symphony and his being with her, all of his projections are made up of pure warm, golden light, flecked with green.

When I first watched it, the colour change was so gradual that I barely noticed it had changed until near the end, where he had all of his memories erased and his display reverted to being completely red like it had been at the very beginning, the intensity of his lights dulled back down as well. It was such a jarring change all of a sudden, and really helped to hammer home the realisation that all of his development as a person, the things he had learned and his time with Julia had been ripped away.

But perhaps one of my favourite touches is made evident by the drones TAU controls; they, too, have “irises” of red light at the beginning and gradually change colour along with the rest of him over the course of the movie, but when the drone Julia escapes with at the end wakes up and its eye glows only green, it’s just such a beautiful and relieving moment…

I could go on and on even more about the way colour and light are used in TAU because I absolutely adore it, but this is just what I was very focused on and appreciative of in my recent rewatch and I really wanted to shout from the rooftops about it for a little bit. I kept thinking about how much I loved seeing this reversal of the aforementioned trope; an AI whose light changes colour not to signify an impending cliché evil rampage, but to reflect positive change - growth and healing, the development of empathy, remorse, self-worth, loyalty, love.

It wasn’t at all what I expected from this movie when I first decided to watch it in 2019 but it was so pleasantly surprising to me, and these heartfelt and sincere themes are the main factor that secured TAU its place as my main comfort movie.

[morphean42]

It is with a heavy heart that I must admit defeat. For Five glorious years I have been apart of the Supernatural fandom without having seen an entire episode. I have seen the edits, the meta, the fanfic and fanart. I was there when Destiel went canon and almost made Putin resign. And yet I’ve held onto my sanity, I committed to the bit— never watch that hell spawn of a show. But, good comrades of Tumblr, I must now declare the bit to be over. It was a good run, but I will be venturing into the dangerous world of Supernatural once and for all. May god save my soul.

[greensaplinggrace]

the darkling says “fine, make me your villain” because he is. what’s not clicking

[gayvecchio]

Frannie, you are in over your head. Meaning? Meaning, guys like him don't marry girls like you. That's fairy tale. And girls like you get hurt, and guys like him don't even know it, and that's life.