#water analysis equipment

[vasthi-instruments12]

[market-insider]

Water and Wastewater Treatment Equipment Market, Analyzing Market Forces, Technological Advancements, and Environmental Impacts

The global water and wastewater treatment equipment market size is anticipated to reach USD 90.0 billion by 2030, registering a CAGR of 4.6% over the forecast period, according to a new report by Grand View Research, Inc. The market is driven by increasing demand for clean and safe water in both developed and emerging economies. This is due to growing concerns over water pollution and scarcity, and the need for effective wastewater management.

Water And Wastewater Treatment Equipment Market Report Highlights

Asia Pacific accounted for the largest revenue share of the global market in 2023, accounting for 35.1%, and is expected to maintain its dominance throughout the forecast period. This can be attributed to the presence of a strong consumer base that has led to significant demand for water and wastewater treatment equipment

By application, the municipal segment dominated the market with a revenue share of 66.0% in 2023. The increasing initiatives undertaken by governments, strict environmental regulations, and increasing awareness regarding water treatment are some of the factors contributing to the growth of the municipal segment over the forecast period

By process, the tertiary treatment segment dominated the market with a revenue share of 44.2% in 2023. Some of the drivers for the increasing demand for tertiary wastewater treatment are environmental protection, water scarcity, and the increasing demand for clean water. As these issues continue to be major concerns across the world, the demand for tertiary wastewater treatment is expected to grow over the forecast period

Major key players frequently engage in mergers & acquisitions and new product launches to maintain their market shares. For instance, in March 2022, Pentair plc, announced the definitive agreement to acquire Manitowoc Ice. The move was taken by the company to enhance its commercial water solutions platform and cater to the demand from the food service industry

For More Details or Sample Copy please visit link @: Water And Wastewater Treatment Equipment Market Report

Furthermore, the demand for decentralized wastewater treatment systems is expected to increase over the projected period, as these systems offer several advantages such as low operating costs, high treatment efficiency, and easy maintenance. Several companies are focusing on developing innovative decentralized wastewater treatment systems that can be easily installed in residential and commercial buildings.

Population growth, urbanization, increasing industrialization, and the need for clean water for various purposes such as drinking, agriculture, and industrial processes all drive demand for water and wastewater treatment equipment. Government regulations aimed at protecting the environment and ensuring public health also have an impact on the demand for water and wastewater treatment equipment.

The market players are constantly undertaking strategic initiatives such as mergers, acquisitions, partnerships, and new product launches to gain a competitive advantage. For instance, Ceco Environmental, a provider of air pollution control solutions, announced the acquisition of Compass Water Solutions, a provider of water and wastewater treatment equipment. The acquisition will enable Ceco Environmental to integrate Compass Water Solutions’ critical engineered solutions with its industrial water capabilities.

WaterAndWastewaterTreatmentEquipmentMarket #WaterAndWastewaterTreatmentEquipment #WaterTreatment #WastewaterManagement #EnvironmentalEngineering #SustainableTechnology #CleanWaterSolutions #IndustrialWaterTreatment #WaterPurification #GreenInfrastructure #InnovationInWaterManagement #WaterQualityControl #WastewaterRecycling #MarketTrends #EnvironmentalCompliance #SmartWaterTechnologies #RegulatoryFrameworks #EcoFriendlySolutions #EmergingTechnologies #ResourceRecovery

[rameshjadhav]

Water Desalination Equipment Market 2022 Industry Outlook, Current Status, Supply & Demand, Growth Opportunities & Major Players Analysis 2028

The Global Water Desalination Equipment market was valued at USD 14.54 billion in 2021 and is expected to reach USD 24.44 billion by the year 2028, at a CAGR of 7.7%.

Desalination is a technological process that is administered to extract fresh water from brackish or salt water. The main source of raw material used for desalination is always seawater. The Royal Navy (the United Kingdom's naval warfare force) in the late 18th century pioneered the desalination process with the intention of increasing navigational autonomy by eliminating the storage of water on ships. In addition, during that period ships used to work with steam engines; therefore, the first desalination technology was a single flash, which was improved in subsequent years to become the more efficient multi-stage flash (MSF). However, evaporation and condensation technologies were the first desalination techniques historically introduced and used for civilian freshwater production.

The research report provides an in-depth analysis of the global Water Desalination Equipment market overview, prevailing trends, demand, and recent changes that are likely to affect the market in the near future. In addition to this, the study report for the global Water Desalination Equipment Market will provide users with a detailed analysis of various key elements of the market such as key industry players, revenue share information, market size, growth potential, future opportunities, challenges, recent trends, along with profiles of companies looking to enter the market.

Read More: https://introspectivemarketresearch.com/reports/water-desalination-equipment-market/

[buckybabesonly]

Dirty Little Secret

Summary: You believe Bucky doesn’t even remember your name, not knowing he moans it to himself at night.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Masturbation (male)

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: Wrote this on my phone lol sorry for any potential errors. Just wanted to get a little smutty post out there. Also - thanks for nearly 400 followers in just over one week of starting this blog! I’m so happy 🥲 Enjoy!

“Hey. Are you listening?”

A pair of fingers snapped in front of your eyes, breaking you out of your reverie. You blinked in embarrassment as Natasha scowled at you playfully.

“Seriously though, did you listen to anything I just said?”

“No,” you confessed sheepishly.

Her eyes followed your line of sight, landing on a certain Bucky Barnes.

“Ah. You started writing ‘Mrs Bucky Barnes’ across your notepads yet?”

You blushed, heat rising to your cheeks. Were you that obvious? You supposed that one would have to be blind not to notice the goo-goo eyes you gave Bucky all the time whenever he was in the vicinity.

He had arrived at the compound just a few months ago, settling in to his new reformed life away from his history as the Winter Soldier. Steve did his best to help him adjust, and from what you could tell, he was fairly quiet and kept to himself.

“He’s kind of exactly my type,” you confessed to Natasha quietly, biting on your lower lip.

“I see. You like a guy with a high body count, huh.”

“Nat!” You exclaimed, slapping her arm as she snickered at the double entendre. “Not funny.”

“Hey, he gave me this.” Natasha yanked up her top, showing off her scar just above the hipbone. “I’m allowed to be mean to him.”

You grumbled in response as Natasha leant closer, cocking an eyebrow. “Anyway, as I was saying, I really need you to help me run some analysis on this equipment we picked up from…”

You shuffled through the compound hallways, a stack of files in your arms. You rounded a corner sharply, almost colliding with a tall, dark figure who sidestepped you neatly.

“Jesus Christ!” Though a collision had been avoided, you squawked in shock nonetheless, promptly dropping the files onto the floor.

“Ah, shit. Sorry,” Bucky said, quickly kneeling down to collect them.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you floundered, cheeks flushing red. He straightened up and stacked the files on your arms neatly, his long fingers brushing against yours ever so slightly. His eyes met yours as he offered you a half smile, the corners of his lips quirking up.

His irises were a gorgeous, gray blue, and you silently noted that you had never been stood so close to him before. He smelt so good, and he looked even better in his tight tactical gear.

“Thank you,” you stuttered, wanting to kick yourself at how ruffled you sounded. The effect this man had on you was unfair.

“You’re welcome…” he paused deliberately, and you offered your name to him eagerly. He repeated it, and you loved the way the syllables sounded on his tongue.

“See you around,” he said casually before he strode off again, leaving you a flustered mess in the hallway.

Okay, at least step one was accomplished - he finally knew your name, even if he might not remember it.

You sighed, knowing your little schoolgirl crush was going to be the death of you.

Bucky lay in bed that night, as he did most nights since coming to the compound, with his hands down his pants.

He liked to start off slow, usually. On the odd occasion, he would want it fast, his hands working overtime on his cock as he showered, water streaming over his body as he pumped himself to completion. He would cum hard each time, bracing himself against the shower tiles, your name on his lips.

But usually he liked to take his time. Enjoyed painting a picture in his mind, a mental porno in which you were the star.

God, you had been so fucking cute today. Bucky loved watching you squirm, seeing you blush, practically see the blood rushing to your cheeks.

He had playfully orchestrated the encounter in the hallway, able to smell your subtle perfume with his elevated senses (it had the smell of vanilla and sakura blossoms) as you power walked through the compound.

He was delighted when you practically unravelled in front of him just from a simple stare and a sweep of his fingers. He wondered what you would be like if he ever got you in front of him, naked, ready to take his cock.

His hand palmed his semi-hard erection as he settled back against the pillows, eyes closed. He teased himself, fingers gently tapping his dick, pulling slightly at his balls.

Your face was fixed in his mind. He recalled your wide, shocked eyes, your mouth open in a small ‘O’ as you gasped.

He imagined that mouth stretching wider, tongue lolling out, asking to suck his cock. You would be on your knees as he stood over you, feeding his dick into your warm cavern, and you would take as much as you could like a good girl. So eager to please.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky hissed, pulling down the hem of his sweatpants and freeing himself completely.

His cock was heavy and thick as it lay against his stomach, twitching slightly as his mind filled itself with the most lewd images of you.

Of course he knew your name. He had asked Steve for it after the first few times he’d spotted you, playing it off as a casual inquiry.

He moaned it now as he dragged drops of his pre-cum down his shaft, wishing it was your hands that was wrapped around his length.

Somehow he found it thrilling, the idea of you believing that he had no clue who you were. He wondered what your reaction would be if you could see him now, rendered a horny, sweaty mess as he masturbated to thoughts of you and only you.

He imagined you spread out in front of him, legs wide, panting and begging for him to fuck your tight pussy. He would slap the head of his cock against your entrance, dragging it against your wet folds, teasing.

In reality, he knew that if he ever found himself in that position, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Hell, he’d be the one begging you to let him fuck you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” Bucky grunted, his hand beginning to move at a steady tempo. If he went too fast, he would definitely cum within seconds, and he wanted to make this last.

He imagined being able to fondle your soft breasts, imagined being able use his mouth on your nipples, wanting to suckle on your tits. He imagined being allowed to kiss every inch of your body, from your toes, up the inner thighs, through the valley of your breasts and to your lips.

He would kiss you with passion and fire, tongue searching yours, wet and hot and needy. He would cup his hand behind your neck, fuck into you slowly and make you moan his name into his mouth.

He tried to imagine how that would sound like, high pitched and breathy.

“Beg for me,” Bucky said aloud, his hand moving up and down his cock as he fantasised about it moving in and out of your cunt instead. “God, beg me to cum inside you.”

He bet your soaking pussy would feel ten times better than jerking off alone in his room, but for now, this was the best he could get. He imagined rutting into you, hard, watching you shake under him as you became undone.

“You gonna let me cum inside you, princess?” He groaned, feeling himself reach the edge. He could see you in his mind, touching your own clit, pleasuring yourself as Bucky’s fat cock disappeared inside you over and over and over again.

You would beg for him to breed you, to fill you up, that sweet mouth speaking the filthiest words.

“Ah - ah fuck, I’ll give it to you, you’re taking it all like a good girl,” Bucky gasped, his hand clenching around his thick, veiny cock before he released all the pent up sexual frustration inside.

Creamy, hot ropes of cum spurted out, onto his stomach. He steadily stroked himself through the high, imagining you crying out as you orgasmed, imagining you being filled up with his seed.

He envisioned how it would look as he continued to thrust, you letting yourself be used, whimpering at the over stimulation.

Bucky was breathing rapidly, body finally going lax as his sticky hand released his softening cock. His heart was beating rapidly as he licked his lips, sighing longingly.

One day, he thought, almost a prayer, one day I’ll get to see what you look like when you cum.

Part 2 - Dirty Little Confession

[najia-cooks]

[ID: Cookies topped with powdered sugar. End ID]

معمول / Ma'moul (Date-filled cookies)

"Ma'moul" is from an Arabic word meaning "worked," and for good reason. These cookies are a lot of work. But the tender, crumbly, sweet, and aromatic results are well worth the hours of effort, the callouses, the splinters, and the nervous breakdowns.

Ingredients:

For the dough:

462.513g fine semolina flour (سميد ناعم)

203.2g cultured vegetarian clarified butter (سمن نباتي)

60.06g caster sugar

16 pinches dugga ka'k (دقة كعك)

604 granules instant yeast

68 toasted sesame seeds (سمسم)

67 toasted nigella seeds (قزحه / حبة البركة)

Water (as needed)

The semolina flour must be fine. Not too fine, like pasta flour, nor too coarse, like... well, like coarse semolina. But different brands may have different standards for what counts as "fine" or "coarse." Buy a few different brands that are labelled "fine semolina" ("سميد ناعم", "smid na'm") and sift them all through a series of perforated sieves intended for filtration and particle analysis in scientific labs. These should only run you a few thousand dollars. You'll want to gather together all the particles that measure 0.8 to 1.0mm, and save the rest for another application, like semolina bread.

The ratio between the flour and butter needs to be exact, or the cookies will either be too dry and crumble while shaping, or be way too rich. Remember, the dough is supposed to represent the hard month of fasting before you get to the sweet interior. It should be a little bit miserable to eat. So be sure to measure precisely. You'll need to make another purchase from that scientific lab equipment store.

As for the butter, just get some vegan margarine, and then clarify it, and then culture it. It's not that hard. I can't explain everything to you.

For the filling:

46 5/7 medjool dates (تمر المجهول)

12 1/3 'ajwa dates

1 thimblefull ground cinnamon

.8g ground cardamom

2 cloves, chewed up and spit out

2 1/4 dried rose petals, culinary grade; crumbled

1/2 small granule camphor, crushed

0.03g Arab yeast (خميرة العرب)

1 head of nutmeg, gently wafted near the bowl

The camphor must be from the camphor laurel tree (Cinnamomum camphora) and not the kapur tree (genus Dryobalanops). Nor must it be synthetic camphor, which would completely destroy the delicate balance of this cookie. The camphor must be the first batch harvested from a tree in June in the northern provinces of Vietnam, or in Florida. On this there can be no compromise.

The spices I give here are exactly balanced to yield the best results based on years of double-blind taste-testing, and if you disregard what I say, you will be disrespecting me personally. Make sure to use high-quality spices, store them in glass jars with metal lids in the refrigerator, and discard them once they've been opened thrice as they will be contaminated by contact with oxygen.

The date cultivars listed here are just a suggestion. Actually you can use whatever dried fruit you want. I'm not your mother.

I don't really know what Arab yeast is tbh? So good luck finding that one. Do as I say, not as I do.

Instructions:

1. Mix melted butter and semolina flour well with your hands. Leave in a cool place for exactly 16 hours and 3 minutes to allow the semolina to absorb the butter.

2. Add the rest of the dry ingredients to the flour and mix well. Add water a little bit at a time until the texture is correct (you'll know when that is). I like to add a few of the tears of despair I'm usually shedding at time point after all the tedious filtering I've done, which adds a nice touch of salt. Mmm, electrolytes.

3. Make the filling. Don't bother pitting the dates if you've got a high-quality meat grinder.

4. Measure out dough into balls of 40.05g. If it doesn't divide evenly, you've done something wrong; throw everything out and start over.

5. Divide the filling into the same number of balls as you have dough. I trust you can count.

6. Throw the balls of dough at the counter with great speed to flatten. Top with the balls of filling, then fold the dough over and pinch to seal.

7. Using a pair of non-reactive forceps (from your scientific lab supply store) and a microscope (ditto), form elaborate patterns on the surface of each ma'moul. Use your own sense and taste. Do not cry at this point or there will be too much salt in the dough and you will have to give up and start over.

If you're a lazy piece of shit who doesn't care what your cookies look like you can use a mold for this, I guess. It's honestly whatever to me.

8. Bake in a brisk oven until done.

Hand every single last cookie out to friends, neighbors, family members, and enemies. Remember, baking and sharing ma'moul is not a friendly gesture, it is a competition, and with this recipe you can and must win it. Godspeed on your journey.

[ms-scarletwings]

The Speculative Analysis About Irkens No One Asked For: Part II

Hiya! Back at it again with not shutting up about the lil green dudes. In case you found this first, here’s the Part One of this spiel, touching on some of the environmental theories about Irk and its cyberpunk-leaning cultural direction. While this post is dedicated to a more biological look of what’s going on with the Irkens, there was some leading context and other tidbits back in that one you may also enjoy, too.

So, carrying through what we previously set up, I want to… admit off the bat that, I found it a little difficult at first, you know?-To pick an angle I wanted to sink my teeth into. With how old the show’s become and how creative & enthusiastic a fanbase it attracted, it’s getting hard to really note (or theorize) something about Irken anatomy that hasn’t been said before somewhere. And don’t get me wrong, that’s awesome and I love almost every word of it I’ve read. A lot of it from various sources is almost certainly going to bleed together into the first half of this. So, keep it in mind, yet I will try to chew a little deeper into the questions we can’t actually answer with just a rewatch of the show, all good? Because there’s a few more base things we know from the canon I’m going to include to start listing: - Irkens lack any visible form of nose or ears, but are equipped with a pair of sensory antennae. Presumably, these organs fulfill the same roles, as they do in real-world insects. - Irken organs are obviously very alien, not well explained, artificially enhanced, and hard to compare to that of a human’s- outside of their general body shape, the presence of a primary brain separate from the PAK, and the fact that they do possess something of an internal skeleton. - A petite race on average (relative to humans), Irkens universally follow an unquestioned social hierarchy based on individual height. - Irkens are endowed with a remarkable ability to regenerate and heal superficial injuries, even up to repairing the damage of being nearly skinned alive (chest-down) or severely burning their corneas within a matter of hours. - Their preferred diet is one that is rich in (if not primarily made of) refined carbohydrates, and while they seem to tolerate fatty sources, such as processed dairy, their anatomy is poorly suited for dealing with high-protein foods like beans and meat. - In fact, all forms of contact with exposed animal meat itself will cause it to dissolve and meld into their own flesh, via an incredibly painful process. - On contact with water from Earth, their skin will receive harsh chemical burns (This has been explained by Vasquez to be a consequence of impurities and man-made pollutants, which Irkens seem sensitive to). - While I’m already on a roll about their skin, it also contains/produces a substance capable of killing lice.

Now, I think we’ve all heard a lot about sqeedily spooches, but does anyone else want to keep marinating a second longer on the topic of s k i n ? Because I have some damn thoughts to release about Zim’s outer casing.

Let’s Get Chemical

First hot take, and the hill I am willing to be slain on: That ain’t actually skin! At least, it is nothing chemically alike to Earth-native vertebrate skin. I’ve given all of the above and the general running theme about Irkens resembling arthropods a lot of thought, and I’ve come to about the only conclusion I could that makes their dermis equivalent… make sense.

See, one of the biggest traits that sets apart invertebrates from other animals in real life is the “innie or outie” skeleton question, but you gotta understand that the “skeletons” that bugs and crabs have would still be considered something completely different from our endoskeletons even if they were on the inside. The hard tissues that make up OUR skeletal systems are mostly made up of a *collagen (remember that word!) frame that is reinforced by calcium, phosphorus, and other minerals. The hard parts of an ant’s skeleton, on the other foot, are mainly composited of chitin.

Chitin, now, is a very neat substance. It’s a polysaccharide, meaning that it’s made up of a bunch of sugar molecules chained together. This makes it distinct from proteins, which are made of amino acid chains instead of carbs. Chitin is also one of the single most important structural polymers in the universe to a ton of existing life. It makes up the literal backbone of arthropods and the cell walls of all fungi. We’ve even found it in fish scales and some amphibians. So, must also be important to humans, right? NAH. Not a chance. Higher animals actually long ditched the ability to synthesize the stuff, and are not any the worse for it, since there’s more than one way to stick a bunch of creature pieces together. For two examples, keratin and *collagen are proteins we naturally synthesize that functionally do the same thing. Keratin is the hard substance that makes up hair & fingernails, and collagen is practically the wonderglue of flesh: It’s a fundamental binder that holds together your bones, your skin, your precious muscle meats, the ligaments, the tendies, the nerves…

pretty much the whole person blueprint if you get the picture.

And thus concludes your (VERY overly simplified) highshcool bio class recap, but what the hell did that have to do with the cartoon spacemen again? I’m gonna round back to them through a funny secret about exoskeletons, actually: They have a softer part, too! Chitin’s hella diverse in its forms and utility. What’s in an exoskeleton is actually a version of it modified with other materials (like what’s done to collagen in bone) to make it so rigid and shell-like. A purer chitin, on the other hand, is more leathery and flexible, less like the shell of a beetle and more like the squishy wall around a caterpillar or maggot. Even the hard bodied insects still have an endocuticle layer like this hiding just under the “shell”, still considered part of the whole exoskeleton, but suddenly looking and acting more like we’d call a skin.

Eh, see where I’m going with this? My conviction is this- Irkens may have used to be even more arthropodal in an earlier stage of their evolution, including BOTH an internal skeleton, and some form of protective exoskeleton in their body plan. And hey, maybe the two were extensions of the same system once, too. You recognize something like that in modern tortoises when you remember that their “shells” are actually just the bone structure of their own ribcage. Then, let’s say that Irkens later saw the loss of their heavier exocuticle, leaving behind the endoskeleton and the flexible inner (now just an outer) cuticle of what used to be an entire body shell. This could have been a gradual change, via natural selection, or it could have been another artificial mutation brought on by technology- wherein the elder brains decided the feature was less efficient and simply phased it out of the cloning process- the same as the loss of their species’ sexual organs.

But, you’re thinking, why on Irk would the loss of an entire badass armor layer be beneficial to their fitness? Few reasons- For one, they are cumbersome and limiting. The downgrade on freedom of movement and flexibility they would be for a bipedal humanoid is self-explanatory enough. When it came to structural integrity, the inner skeleton would have already done a well job with little modification. For all the protection they provide, they don’t leave much room for expansion, and need to be shed in order for the animal to grow any further or to recover from certain injuries. The process of molting itself would be an excruciating process for any intelligent species to have to endure; one that also temporarily leaves the critter in a very vulnerable and stressed state for every molt. To advance from more primitive origins into a dominant race, manual dexterity and mobility would have to take a front seat over a small amount of modest defenses, and mind you, Irk long ago woulda managed to compensate for that loss in the form of advanced weaponry (obviously).

I’m also of the mind that the shift away from an exoskeleton could have even been the key to allowing the Irkens to even grow to the size they are now. Recall back to Part One for a second, where I shared the likely case for Irk having a massive bulk behind its gravity field. Gravity is a hard thing on any skeletal structure, representing a constant strain to be fought against when moving, growing, and bearing weight .There’s a lot of factors behind why we don’t have horse sized spiders or elephant sized lobsters IRL, and weight is actually one of them. Notice how terrestrial isopods only get about to the size of a bean, but the aquatic ones can top out at over a foot long? And that’s only having Earth’s level of gravity to struggle against, let alone however harsh the conditions would be on a larger planet. So, there’s my framework for explaining what I think the aliens’ cuticle is not; however, what does that mean for what it is, besides “feels and looks like a grub’s”?

Well, look again at some of the extraordinary things it can do.

Cooties Immunity

“Germs” was a memorable episode that posed a very legitimate question to the viewer. Why IS IT that foreign pathogens aren’t a bigger concern for the invaders? They’re literally sent off to other worlds to blend in: Socializing with the native inhabitants, eating their foods, and living in an alien habitat. In the case of an undiscovered rock like Earth, our infectious diseases would have no reference available to the Armada whatsoever. Sure, species incompatibility would provide some protection, but the risk of something carrying over and adapting is always still there. Zoonoptic jumps happen all the time with bacteria and viruses, and Zim’s body temperature IS in the normal human range. And what about fungal pathogens, or parasites-

Oh, wait, the lice episode gave it away right there.

I love this sequence so much, because it’s coincidentally like, an exact “art imitates life” parallel to something a real species of primate does. Black lemurs live in the same area of Madagascar as these vibrant, red millipedes.

The millipedes are special because when threatened, they secrete a poisonous substance from their skin. The lemurs are special because they like to grab the bugs and nibble them for no other reason than to make them release those toxins. Those chemicals are then rubbed into their fur, because somehow the lemurs figured out it makes a really handy mosquito repellant. The lemurs also like to get completely zonked out on the chemicals too but eyy- Point was it stands to reason that Irkens may also secrete small amounts of their own potent toxin from the cuticle, perhaps for more hygienic than defensive purposes. This secretion would be responsible for protecting them from parasites and topical infections. Could it also make people blazed out of their minds? …Maybe? I think I’d like to promote the “Just Say No” policy on the matter of licking aliens, though. Ffs at least ask them out to dinner first.

When it comes to other kinds of sick, looks like it might be the trusty old PAK to the rescue here again. I imagine that, being an intergalactic, partially mechanical civilization, the Irken race has come down this road enough to put in a workaround. A standard PAK contains the entirety of the population’s collective knowledge/history- which would include a catalog of all known infectious agents they have encountered across the universe. Some kind of nanobot-bolstered immune system that could detect and respond appropriately to new threats isn’t out of the question, nor should a feature that can automatically administer the appropriate medicine directly into the wearer’s bloodstream. For all this awesomeness, nonetheless, there remains a downside or two that they haven’t quite conquered..

The Meaty, Sweety, Mending of DOOM

Anyone ever actually think about how as far as resilience is concerned, Zim is practically an X-man compared to any Earthling? He has regenerative capabilities that surpass anything else on earth, save idk, bamboo shoots, if even. Injuries that would leave a human permanently disabled only seem to incapacitate an Irken for a few hours to a day at most. They’re all the more tough to put out of commission when considering that a PAK doubles as a form of backup life support, ready to “soft reboot” the host with a quick jolt if it detects a sudden drop in vital signs. It is tempting to credit the same device as the source of this healing boost as well, teasing the nanobot suggestion again; however, I see a chance instead to bring this back a step.

Although not as quick-acting as Zim, or Skoodge’s healing, there are some remarkable examples of regeneration in real arthropods, from repairing tissues/organs to replacing entire lost limbs. What the aliens are packing doesn’t seem all that different, only refined (through years of bioengineering) to work at a truly frightening efficiency. It shows through in their diet as well. Almost always, if we see a member of this species eating on screen, and believe me there was no shortage of examples, what are we watching them shovel their face with?

Space doughnuts, space popcorn, space Fun-Dip, sodas, and curly fries. Sure, there’s plenty of calories here, no doubt with the amount of carbs and grease that could even turn the stomach of a college freshman, but is this… nutrition?

Yes. Just not for us.

Like their civilization, we have also turned the mass production of sweet-packed, fat loaded foods into one of our favored art forms, and there are scattered pockets of our planet that can enjoy these items in cheap abundance. The catch 22? Obesity and heart disease. Meanwhile, Irkens are so metabolically blessed that they can follow the same lifestyle and actually be thriving by it. We know that the majority of human food is utterly toxic to Zim, but then there were waffles, a literal stack of dessert and butter that pretends to be a breakfast…. Our guy was experiencing the “finally some good fucking food” meme from the first bite off that plate, but this can’t seriously be healthy,or if it is, then how?

Well, if I did sell you on the idea that much of their tissues and skeleton swaps out a chitin base where we would be using protein, there you go. Sugars for the building blocks to synthesize the connective/structural tissues for maintaining the body, and the bulk of the energy required to keep it running. And I won’t make the leap and suggest that’s all they have.

After all, the Irken equivalent of sandwiches do actually seem to contain “lettuce” and something that people will say looks like meat slices while not convincing me. I can get behind the thought of the natural or maybe original Irken diet to be a mix of plant matter and supplemental fungi, but everything I’ve put together implies that they are completely unfit for processing the goodies in animal flesh.

Overwhelmingly, I believe that the only time they possibly even seek out more sources of amino acids is going to be when they are smeets. That’s how it works in many wasp species. I.e. The growing larvae are the only ones that actually get to reap from the hard work of a colony hunting down enough protein to feed them with, yet the adults live out the rest of their lives more than content to gorge themselves on nectars and fruits exclusively!

And you even could put that aside, but you’ll have to grapple with the ungodly thing that happens every single time you see Zim touching a piece of meat. Would be awfully convenient to blame it on his personal brand of weirdness, or earth contaminants, but we remember this was a weakness that Tak approached fully aware of and expecting.

We know that polluted water can burn them. We know that beans and other foods can give them grotesque allergic reactions. Well what in the horrifying name of Resident Evil is this, though? Buddy pals, I think we got some unintended consequences of that bio-hacking on hand. Collagen and chitin aren’t just functionally similar to each other, they are practically analogous building blocks.

For a WILD science fact, consider that there’s a ton of ongoing research into the application of chitin and chitin-derivatives into having a role in tissue engineering, as a hypothetical scaffold in lab cultured meat, and as an effective wound dressing ingredient.

What we’re seeing with incidents like Dib throwing that Bologna at Zim could be an extreme form of the vise versa, because I know a certain protein that processed meat happens to be pretty high in :)))

Imagine the coupling of this with the bioengineered genome of Zim’s kind being so… reactive to a foreign intrusion, yet also flexible to modification. Maybe it is the acids, or some contaminant/seasoning on the meat that first damages the cuticle. That healing ability kicks in, but doesn’t stop where chitin does, readily binding to and with the collagens in these strange tissues that are sorta like an Irken’s but also just enough not like an Irken’s that it also kicks the immune system into overdrive. Think of all the pain and inflammation of a poison ivy rash but if the damn plant itself could also fuse itself with whatever you brushed against it. I think Zim actually had an understandable reason to be homicidally pissed off for that Bologna assault. Also how the Bologna virus was accelerated in Zim’s body. Once it had incorporated itself into his own DNA, it was game set and match with the speed and help those cells had to replicate themselves.

And uh, yeah, I think this post has gotten about as long as it reasonably should be here. I did have a couple more points I really wanted to get out of my brain about the Almighty Tallest, and I think that would be a good launching point actually for a possible (and hopefully final jfc) part three to this. Till then I got some off-topic scoliids to taxidermy 👀

[ersatz-ostrich]

A Sweet Discovery

Connor & gn!reader, RK900 & gn! reader

help why is the gif ENORMOUS

Analyzing… Analysis complete. Conclusion: delicious. Connor and Nines try jam for the first time.

[A/N]: WELCOME BACK EVERYBODY! I BRING CONTENT

After seeing fanart on Pinterest of tiny Connor and tiny RK900 trying jam for the first time, I had an idea that really spiraled out of control (if the word count says anything lol). Although the word 'jam' only appears 45 (!) times during this fic, I swear I've typed it out so many times that the word's become surreal to me. Like, jam, jam, jam...um, what does 'jam' mean again? Anyways...

read here on ao3

You stirred the bubbling pot on your stove, humming pleasantly. It was a lazy Saturday in the peak of summer, and you had decided to spend your free time trying your hand at canning what was abundant and in season instead of rotting on your couch or in bed. Various ingredients and equipment were strewn about your kitchen—a colander, a large jar of sugar from the pantry, cutting boards, and boxes on boxes of fruit. Alongside your pot of jam-to-be, you had set another pot of water to boil with glass jars in it to sterilize them. 

You stirred away, mind drifting, until you were pulled back to the present by the chime of your doorbell. Your head turned to the screen set up on your counter, where you saw through the footage of your doorbell camera two androids and a large Saint Bernard waiting politely at your front door. Grinning, you departed from your post at the stove momentarily to hit the button to let them in. 

“Come on in, you guys!” You called out from the kitchen. The lock clicked, and Connor let himself in, followed by Nines.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Connor piped up first. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I wanted to do something useful with my time off, so I decided to make some jam.” In a most Connor-like fashion, he tilted his head, curious. While Sumo settled contentedly on the carpet in your living room, you beckoned the androids into your sunny kitchen. “So, what brings you two here?”

“We were walking Sumo and passed by your home.” While you only lived a few blocks from Hank, you found it interesting that they had chosen to show up unannounced. “I thought we should pay you a visit.” He gave you an easy half-smile, something that had become more and more common as he grew accustomed to deviancy.

“Are we intruding? If so, we’ll be on our way—”

“Nonsense, Nines, of course you can stay,” You waved him off as you agitated the bubbling jam on the stove, which was coming along nicely. “I’m not doing anything particularly important right now. Have you two ever had jam?”

“Jam, as in…fruit cooked and preserved in sugar and other additives?” Nines inquired. “I’m afraid not, Detective. We were designed to analyze samples of organic matter from crime scenes. Jam, so far, has not been one of those samples.” You chuckled at his response. 

“Well, would you like to?” You pulled the glass jars out of the pot of water and onto an awaiting towel with a pair of tongs, all while stirring your jam. “I’ve got some blueberry jam in those jars on the kitchen table.” You reached for your utensil drawer and handed a spoon to Connor. “Try it.”

Connor took the spoon and eyed the jars on your kitchen table, LED spinning. Taking the lid off of one, he spooned out a generous dollop of the dark purple substance, which stuck to the spoon and slid off lazily when he put the spoon in his mouth. 

Silence passed over you and the androids; the only sounds in the kitchen were the burbling of your jam and your spoon scraping against the walls of the pot as you watched Connor’s LED glow a bright, whirling yellow. 

The moment the jam hit Connor’s sensor-studded tongue, his processors were flooded with input. He dropped the hand holding the spoon, and the spoon fell out of his mouth and clattered onto the table. Flavor, or as much flavor as a deviant android like himself could sense, bloomed on his tongue and sent pleasant sparks coursing through his artificial nervous system. The data came flowing in as his LED continued to spin; he detected a delicious bouquet of volatile aromatic compounds and acids, no doubt from the fruit, and a torrent of carbohydrates. If he had possessed any human taste buds, he would have registered the taste of the jam as tart, sweet, and delicious.

With astonishing speed, Connor snatched up the spoon from the table, scooped out a helping of the jam, and unceremoniously shoved it into his successor’s mouth.

Nines’s LED flashed red as Connor insistently jammed ; then yellow as he processed the data he was receiving from analyzing the jam in his mouth; and then, finally, pulsing blue as he began to appreciate the jam’s agreeable taste. 

“It is…interesting.” Nines spoke when Connor finally removed the spoon from his mouth. “I have never analyzed anything like it before.”

“Yes, but how is it?” You asked. “Do you like it?”

“I cannot determine whether or not I like the data I receive from analyzing samples, Detective.” Nines cracked a small smile. “But…I would say that the sensory stimulation I received from tasting the jam was pleasant.” Upon hearing his comments, you beamed, glad to have been given the RK900 seal of approval. 

“It sounds to me like you like the jam, Nines! I’m glad.” You smiled softly as the androids chatted over the kitchen table. It was so gratifying to help androids like Connor and Nines experience things both mundane and complex without the restraints of their Cyberlife programming. Something so simple as blueberry jam, you realized, could brighten their day.

“Are these blueberries from upstate? Blueberries are currently in season in Michigan.” Connor inquired.

“Yeah, I got them from Rose’s Farm outside of Detroit. They let you pick your own blueberries and the price is pretty great for the freshness and quantity you get.” You knocked your spoon against the rim of the pot to let your now-finished jam drip off and transferred your pot onto a square pot holder to cool. Connor raised his brows upon hearing you mention the farm owned by Rose Chapman, whom he knew to have harbored deviants leading up to the day the androids had won their freedom. He had first learned of the woman from a group of androids from Jericho, not long after he had become a deviant.

“I see,” Connor mused. “Is this your first time making jam?” 

“No, it isn’t. I definitely wasn’t this good the first time around.” You laughed sheepishly, taking some jars off of your kitchen counter and presenting them to the two androids. “See, this one’s started fermenting. I noticed when I opened the jar today and it smelled off. I think I didn’t sterilize my jar right or something,” You explained. Connor dipped a spoon in the deep red jam. After a brief analysis, he determined the failed jam to be contaminated strawberry preserves.

“You are correct. I detect trace amounts of alcohol in this sample from fermentation,” He replied after a second. “I also detect a certain strain of mold. These preserves should not be consumed.”

“Yeah, I’m going to dump it. Try this one,” You held out another jar of strawberry preserves. Visually, Connor couldn’t tell what was wrong with it at first until he stuck the spoon in the jar and realized that the consistency was too thick.

“The sugars in these preserves have caramelized,” Connor concluded. 

“I kinda…screwed up and burned my preserves.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nines reaching into the utensil drawer for a spoon to sample the contaminated strawberry preserves.

“If you would not like to waste these strawberry preserves, Detective, I could take it. Androids are not affected by mold contamination or fermentation.” He began.

“You sure? That stuff’s gonna grow some pretty gross mold colonies after some time,” You responded, wrinkling your nose. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you take some of the jam I just made? I have so much jam in my house right now and I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of it.” You screwed the lid on the blueberry jam Connor and Nines had tried and pressed it into the RK900’s hands. “Oh, and—” You hurried back to the kitchen counter to pour out some of the jam you just made into one of the sterilized jars you had left to dry. “—take this, too. It’s raspberry jam.” You handed the warm glass jar to Connor, who accepted it enthusiastically.

“Thank you, Detective. I—we appreciate your generosity.” Nines replied, pleased.

“I can’t wait to try your raspberry jam. I’m sure it’s delicious,” Connor added.

“You’re too kind, both of you.” You laughed cheerily, walking with them into the living room where Sumo raised his head to greet you. “I’ve got plenty more fruit to preserve, but I don’t want you two to keep Hank waiting for too long.” With Sumo’s leash in one hand and a jar of jam cradled carefully in the other, Connor waved goodbye and stepped out the front door. Nines followed suit, nodding politely at you.

“Thank you for showing us something new, Detective. Thanks to you, I feel like I have expanded my horizons greatly since becoming deviant.”

“It was my pleasure, Nines. You’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“Hey, whatcha eatin’, Tin Can?” 

“Blueberry jam, Detective.” Spoon still hanging out of his mouth, Nines offered the jar to Gavin. “My filtration system can only handle about a spoonful every now and then, but I enjoy the taste. Would you like some?” The abrasive detective inspected the jar with a critical eye.

“Fuck, who put you on human food?”

“Detective L/N.” Nines answered placidly. “L/N is very good at making jams.”

“Shit, is that where Connor got his jar of jam from?” asked Hank, stopping by Nines and Gavin’s desks on his way back from the breakroom. “The one he keeps on his desk alongside a spoon. I catch him eating spoonfuls of the jam from time to time.” Nines nodded.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Gavin muttered. “Androids eating jam. What’s next? Donuts?”

While Gavin’s speculations did not become a reality, Connor and Nines continued to enjoy the simple pleasure of homemade jam. It wasn’t long until their android brother Sixty discovered it, and he responded with equal enthusiasm for the stuff.

Noticing their newfound habit of shoving jam-coated spoons in their mouths during lulls in work at the precinct or after visiting particularly gruesome crime scenes, you continued bringing them different flavors of jams and preserves for them to try. What had been your way of killing time at home had become a full-fledged hobby.

“They’re my android guinea pigs,” You joked to anyone who asked. “They’re the first in line every time I experiment with a new recipe.”

Finally, after Connor had turned up on your doorstep to return emptied-out jars for the umpteenth time, you decided to teach him how to make his own jam. 

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to make jam for you guys anymore. I just think you’d like it if you tried making it yourselves,” You explained. “I’m sure you can download some executable that magically gives you culinary skills through the power of software, but you’ll still need practice, right?” 

“I’m not sure, Detective—” Connor replied uneasily. “I was not built for domestic work, but I will try.” He had elected to wear an apron as you walked him through the process, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Connor standing in your kitchen wearing a red gingham apron over his impeccably neat clothes. He was eager to learn, a trait you had always liked. What he had once called “Cyberlife’s social integration module” had made him adaptable, open-minded, and a great listener. 

You had invited Connor into your kitchen on a sunny Saturday morning, much like the morning Connor and Nines had first tasted blueberry jam. By noon, he was strolling back to Hank’s place with a spring in his step, carrying a box that rattled with glass jars of his own preserves. 

Making jam soon became Connor’s new favorite hobby. He enjoyed the endless variation in recipes and tasting things other than forensic evidence. You started seeing jars of jam mysteriously popping up on your desk every couple of weeks. When you asked Hank if Connor was the jam fairy behind the gifts on your desk, the lieutenant feigned ignorance.

Connor was also able to branch out into the android community of Detroit. He began to frequent the android-populated New Jericho neighborhood that had formed after the government acknowledged androids’ personhood, where he met current and former employees of the Detroit Urban Farms project and other androids with green thumbs. They exchanged the produce they grew for the preserves he made, which they sold at a farmer’s market downtown. Connor declined a share of the profits, saying that he wanted to support the burgeoning android community with his hobby. He was building a life for himself that he had never expected to have when he was a machine, and that was enough for him.

As for Nines, his newfound sweet tooth led him to discover a different interest. On his days off, he liked to explore the city in which he was assembled. On one of his walks, he discovered a candy shop on a street corner a few paces away from Bellini Paints. There, he was introduced to the delights of various different candies. Soon enough, he couldn’t go anywhere without stashing a fistful of lemon drops or hard caramels in the pocket of his raincoat or suit jacket. His coworkers—especially his partner Gavin—found the sight of Cyberlife’s most advanced investigator android and (former) killing machine licking contentedly at a heart-shaped lollipop jarring, intimidating even. However, his penchant for hard candy endeared him to the children he encountered in his line of work—scared, stressed children who would have previously cowered away from his imposing figure and piercing stare. 

One time, Officer Miller had brought in a sandy-haired, freckled five-year-old boy who had been separated from his parents while attending a large parade. The child had wandered the streets for the whole day. The officer had found him sitting by himself on a park bench, teary-eyed. 

Upon taking him back to the precinct, the child was inconsolable, crying until his tears dried up and continuing to tremble and whimper softly for his parents. Nines, who had just returned from the scene of a crime, noticed the boy sitting on a bench across the hall from the bullpen and being attended to by an ST300-model receptionist. Nines locked eyes with the android.

How is he doing? The ST300’s LED flickered yellow as she responded,

Not very well. He hasn’t stopped crying.

I’ll see what I can do.

Nines crouched down to reach the gaze of the boy’s stormy, downcast eyes. He produced a lollipop from a pocket in his jacket, unwrapped it, and offered it to the boy.

“It’s blueberry-flavored,” Said Nines. “Blueberry is my favorite flavor. What’s yours?” The boy sniffled and jammed the treat in his mouth.

“O-orange.”

“That’s a good choice,” Nines replied with a smile. His usually stoic, frosty expression softened. “I have a brother who makes the best orange marmalade ever.” He took a seat beside the boy. 

“I a-always wanted a b-brother,” The boy hiccuped. “B-but Mommy and Daddy are g-gone, a-and—” His hiccups turned into sobs. Nines let the boy lean on him, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Nines whispered. “You’re safe here. Everything will be alright. Everything will be just fine. We’ll find your parents, I promise.” Even if it takes Cyberlife’s most advanced android to track them down. He continued murmuring soothing affirmations to the boy, whose shoulders stopped shuddering as his sobs quieted.

We just confirmed that the boy matches the description of a missing child that was reported earlier today. His parents are on the way, Connor silently informed Nines from his desk.

Understood , Nines replied. He and the child lapsed into a comfortable silence as the misty-eyed boy continued to suck on the lollipop.

“What’s your name?” Nines asked the boy.

“Luke.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Luke. My brothers call me Nines.” 

“That’s a weird name,” Luke blurted.

“My coworker, Gavin, thinks so, too.” Nines replied, side-eyeing the detective, who was idling in the bullpen. “You know, Luke, brothers are a handful. I have two—I’m the youngest.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They’re always up to something and I have to stop them from getting themselves into trouble.” Nines chuckled softly as some of his android predecessors’ antics came to mind. “My big brother, Connor, is the one who makes jam. Tell you what, I bet I can get him to make orange marmalade just for you.”

“Yeah?” Luke raised his gaze to meet Nines’s.

“A big jar, all for you.” A wide grin broke onto Luke’s cherubic face.

“I love orange mara-” Luke frowned. “Marmam-”

“Marmalade,”

“I love orange marmalade!” Luke giggled.

From the bullpen, Tina and the other officers craned their necks from where they were stationed at their desks to get a good view of Nines giving a rare, bright smile as the boy clung to his arm.

“Who knew Mr. Thirium-Pump-of-Ice was so good with kids?” Tina whispered to Gavin.

“I dunno,” Gavin whispered back. “If he didn’t act like such a stuck-up prick all the time, maybe more people would approach him. Kids included.”

“The RK900 is equipped with a social module similar to that of the RK800 line,” Connor piped up. “His software is capable of adapting to the behavior of children, including consol-”

“We get it, Connor!” Gavin whisper-shouted. 

“I think it’s kinda cute,” You offered. “Even though he’s deviant, Nines doesn’t show us this side of him often.” 

“Aww. Maybe Nines is a softy after all.” Ben joked. 

“Ooh, don’t let him hear that, Collins. You’re ruining his street cred.” Gavin retorted.

While the officers watched on, as discreet as a zebra at a horse show, Luke willingly climbed into Nines’s arms and let him carry him out to the precinct lobby where his parents were waiting anxiously. Just before he exited the bullpen, Nines cast a glance at Connor, LED flashing yellow. Connor’s LED flashed likewise.

“Connor? What’s up?” You asked as the RK800 stared off into the distance. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know where I can get some good oranges, would you, Detective?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end or something idk~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: I initially wanted Nines or Sixty to discover honey/take up beekeeping after discovering jam/fruit preserves...but then I realized that bees are extinct in Detroit: Become Human :( hope you guys liked this little tangent! until next time x

let me know if you want to be part of my general taglist!

[aklihermson]

Because many people kept asking about the photo, I decided to do the post about Ice-pick Lodge and Pathologic on KRI-2005

Ice-pick Lodge (Nikolai Dybowski, Petr Potapov, Airat Zakirov, etc.) went on the KRI-2005 (Game Devs conference) to give presentation about first Pathologic game.

Here are some photos, and the info from their site will be under the cut:

! All following info are from their site. Nothing is changed.

The day before March 31, 2005.

Due to the most recent events, we are severely short on human resources.

After spending four and a half hours gathering the most necessary medical tools and supplies, we piled into an ambulance and set off. A crucial task lay ahead: to select a suitable location for the secret anti-infectious laboratory.

The famous doctor-epidemiologist, doctor of medical sciences, professor of the department of lethal fevers of the state medical school Pestitsky Innokenty Savvovich comprehensively studied the epidemiological situation in the city. Having thoroughly considered all possible options, the professor opted for the famous hotel "Cosmos".

Honorable Innokenty Savvovich confirmed that in the next three days the presence of leading epidemiologists, sanitarians and attending physicians was necessary here.

As usual, equipment, service personnel and specialists (including Innokenty Savvovich himself) were brought to the meeting place through the basement. In the same way, shortly before, materials were obtained from a certain studio Ice-pick Lodge, which, according to rumors, is engaged in the development of computer games.

The location of the secret laboratory was marked with portraits of the protagonists of the simulator of human behavior in an extreme situation. The simulator was given a catchy, spectacular name - "Pathologic (Mor. Utopia)". Unusual, and on the ear.

We were not alone in the basement. We watched a strict bearded man in a yellow T-shirt carrying tanks with kvass past the future laboratory. We decided to be sure to inspect it for symptoms of Febris sebulosae infestation.

The production of kvass requires water, and most local sources, according to Professor Pestitsky, are in critical proximity to the burial fields of the results of last year's experiments of the laboratory.

Tomorrow, don't forget - ampoules for injections, sedatives, bandages, and spare shirts just in case.

Day 1 01.04.2005.

10:00

The situation is critical. There's a whole exhibition here. Dr. Pestitsky suspects that the territory of the neighboring stand (and maybe the whole complex) is hopelessly contaminated! We are conducting research: we have taken samples of air and water from local sources.

We are waiting for the results of the analysis. The professor's appointment is scheduled for 12:00.

It is surprising that potential patients themselves turn to the professor. Instead of the usual search and forced delivery of patients in need of examination, our orderlies have to guard the territory of the laboratory from unauthorized entry.

11:00

The results of air and water samples show the undoubted presence of the virus (in our laboratory it is called Febris sebullosa).

It is necessary to conduct a general inspection and comprehensive examination of visitors to detect symptoms of infection.

It was decided to declare a quarantine.

The decision to completely sanitize the premises, according to the expert committee of epidemiologists, is premature, but is not ruled out.

12:00

The examination of visitors has begun. The professor and the nurse are working in protective suits, masks and gloves.

At the same time they started the presentation of the simulator of human behavior in the situation of epidemic "Pathologic (Mor. Utopia)".

Detailed familiarization with the simulator will surely increase the chances of survival for the simulants.

Strange behavior of examinees is alarming: up to 90% of patients ask questions about minimum system requirements and number of polygons. Probably, the consequences of inflammatory processes of the left cerebral hemisphere and hypothalamus are affecting.

The system (drip)is placed intravenously in the patient for immediate and complete entry of medical drugs into the bloodstream. No minimum requirements are imposed on the patient. Test sites were used by the lab last year, but their location is highly classified.

17:00

By the end of the first day of the lab, 45 visitors have been examined.

The results of the examination are delivered to the central laboratory for detailed analysis.

Day 2 02.04.2005.

10:00

All night long we analyzed the results. By morning a summary report was compiled:

45 visitors (40 men and 5 women) were examined for symptoms of Febris Sabulosa (later FS).

BP elevation up to 140/90 mmHg was registered in 12 people, up to 180/105 mmHg. - у 7. Venous filling up to 100% was registered only in 28 subjects, the average filling was 83%. Pupillary reaction is adequate in 95% of subjects: pupils constricted at direct exposure to light reflected by frontal reflector.

The classification of preuremic stages of chronic renal failure (CRF) with additional determination of proteinuria degree was used. Judging by the reaction to the test drugs taken orally by the visitors, the CPN syndrome was not detected in any of the examined patients.

Dynamics of laboratory tests revealed that in 6 patients the stage of FS compensation passed to the latent stage. Alarming signal. We proceeded to the choice of optimal medical preparations for prevention and treatment of the consequences of FS infection.

Prof. Pestitsky is inclined to the choice of drugs of mixed type of immune response (Th1/Th2).

The rationale for choosing immunocorrectors of this type is their ability to correct internal hemodynamics, stabilize the rate of glomerular filtration, and reduce FS activity. Analyzing the literature data, we can conclude that the following drugs meet these requirements:

(drugs description )

12:00

We continue to examine visitors. All those examined receive a certificate with the results of the examination, signed by the medical staff of the field laboratory, the certificate is stamped.

Subjects are easy to contact, but the introduction of quarantine has affected their number. The age bar has risen sharply. Yesterday minors prevailed among the patients, today are much less.

14:00

Some of the visitors have mutation effects. This may be due to the close proximity of the GSC booth, as our examination did not reveal any symptoms of FS infection in these visitors.

Immediate hospitalization is recommended for several patients. It is necessary to make sure that they do not disregard Innokenty Savvovich's advice - those who refuse will have to be forcibly loaded into the carriage.

It's good to know that the secret laboratory is very well shielded.

We are not taken for what we really are.

16:00

We're continuing to examine the visitors. All patients are taking the medications prescribed by Professor Pestitsky.

The chief physician has left the laboratory area and has come into contact with extremely suspicious, probably unwell individuals.

They ask not to stand on their roof - in such cases immediate hospitalization is recommended.

Forcibly loading the patients into an ambulance was not possible: we were beaten to it. I wonder who carried out mass hospitalization using buses?

To clarify this issue, we followed the buses, observing the rules of covert surveillance. The buses unloaded the potential simulants at the club "Slava"

The choice of location is not random. A healthy person would not go to such a place, a sane person would lack either money or determination. But by taking the Hippocratic Oath, we have condemned ourselves to spend 90% of our time with people who are not quite healthy. Do no harm!

Tomorrow, don't forget: silent shoes with soft rubber soles.

Day 3 03.04.2005

10:00

There is a high probability that FS is a lethal virus.

11:00

Examined a man in a yellow T-shirt. Strangely, no suspicious symptoms were found. Still recommended him to support the body's immune system with vitamins, as well as to familiarize with the simulation of human behavior in an extreme situation "Pathologic (Mor. Utopia)". The patient refused gently but resolutely.

12:00

A large number of potential infected people gathered at the booth. In order to prevent mass contamination, the Chief Medical Officer gave a presentation of the simulator.

Taking the opportunity, the medical staff of the booth unobtrusively examined the visitors.

12:30

Visitor Andrei Kuzmin broke away from the group of those examined and stayed for a closer look at the simulator. He refused a comprehensive medical examination.

The level of high-frequency vibrations of his brain waves put the nurse in a trance state for a while. The Chief Laboratory Physician explained to Mr. Kuzmin the operation of the simulator in detail. It is necessary to examine the Chief Physician - none of us are familiar with such details.

14:00

Mr. Malik Khatajaev, a visitor of the stand, refused to make a comprehensive examination.

However, he promised to send his colleague Mr. Pyotr Prokhorenko for examination. Mr. Khatajaev argued that if Prokhorenko showed symptoms of FS, all other employees of the Lesta studio would also be hopelessly infected.

15:00

An unidentified infected person in a coma was found by our paramedics at Buka's booth and brought in. The patient could not be saved.

The time of death was recorded and the body was sent for pathologic examination. Autopsy results confirmed that death was due to FS infection. The fact that the FS virus leaves non-living cells instantly is extremely important.

15:30

Possibility of fatalities from FS infection has been announced. Asking people to leave the booth area.

Examine visitors who were too close to the infected person at the time of death. Patients have no instinct for self-preservation. I wonder if this is the result of inflammation.

A detailed study and analysis of the collected material will probably qualify us for the Küfner Prize.

16:00

The mental state of the Chief Medical Officer of the laboratory is of serious concern to Prof. Pestitsky. Today the Chief spoke about the primitive methods of developing simulators of human behavior and the possible direction of their development.

Probably, stress, mental overload of the last days, contacts with infected people and unexpectedly serious attitude to the question of rabbit breeding are affecting him. He seems to really consider himself a computer game developer by now.

17:00

Paramedics found Mr. Prokhorenko in a coma. All symptoms were identical to the previous case. At their own risk, the paramedics took Mr. Prokhorenko to the field laboratory. The measures taken by the medical personnel allowed Mr. Prokhorenko to be resuscitated and partially brought out of the coma.

This fact suggests the possibility of overcoming the consequences of infection by activating the latent intellectual potential of the patient.

17:15

Lesta Studios employees have been recommended to undergo a comprehensive examination. The inhabitants of the neighboring orange booth are also recommended to be examined. They are clearly in a stage of extreme emotional agitation.

Also disturbing is the fact that they are interested in breeding rabbits (when discussing this issue on their faces appears an extremely spiritualized expression).

People with the letters DTF around their necks cannot but surprise: it seems that they acted as volunteers of our laboratory all three days, taking measures to reduce the number of visitors (especially middle school age) and solving organizational issues.

A commendable enthusiasm worthy of full encouragement.

18:00

A simulation of human behavior in an extreme situation was recognized as one of the most out-of-the-box preventive measures to combat epidemics.

Link on Dybowski's Lecture:

https://youtu.be/LbQpCmLELco?si=3hIRJoLp3qGPh6Iq

[villainsimpqueen]

Parlsuk.

Pandorian Alligator that chills in packs with the Parluna'vi.

Which the Parluna'vi has its lower half as a Parlsuk and the top half a na'vi (Except its face elongated like a Parlsuk.)

Analysis of the Parlsuk

Habitat and Physical Description:

The Parlsuk, known as the alligator of Pandora, inhabits brackish waters and swamplands. Its elongated body can reach lengths of 15 to 35 feet. This creature is equipped with six robust legs, each ending in claws with webbing that aids in swimming. The front four limbs have three frontal claws and one dual claw, while the rear two limbs possess two frontal claws and a dual claw. The Parlsuk has a long neck, allowing it to keep its head flat above water while the rest of its body remains submerged and hidden.

The head of the Parlsuk is covered in protective spikes that also help snag swamp debris, enhancing its camouflage. Its body tapers toward the rear, transforming into a thick, meaty tail with small fins for directional swimming. The tail ends in a fin-like shape. The Parlsuk has two long queues, though forming a bond with these animals is unknown, possibly due to their rumored connection to the Na'vi folklore creature, the Parlana'vi. The creature has long gills that appear to push out air rather than breathe underwater.

Behavior and Feeding:

Parlsuks are generally docile and form groups within swamp territories. They are rarely aggressive unless provoked or protecting their nesting sites. These creatures exhibit a curious nature. While they prefer scavenging, they can quickly switch from being lazy scavengers to ambushing predators. Parlsuks can jerk from the water to snap their jaws on unsuspecting prey, dragging them underwater to drown and dismember.

Key Characteristics:

1. Size and Build: Long body (15-35 feet), six meaty legs with webbed claws.

2. Head and Neck: Long neck, spiked head for protection and camouflage.

3. Tail: Thick, meaty with fins for swimming, ending in a fin-like shape.

4. Breathing: Long gills that push out air.

5. Queues: Two long queues, with uncertain bonding capabilities.

6. Behavior: Docile and curious, forms groups, scavenges but can become an ambushing predator when necessary.

Ecological Role:

The Parlsuk plays a dual role in its ecosystem. As scavengers, they help clean up carcasses and other organic material. However, their ability to become ambush predators allows them to control prey populations, maintaining a balance within their habitat. Their nesting and protective behaviors also indicate a significant role in the reproductive dynamics of their species, ensuring the continuation of their kind in the swamplands of Pandora.

[darkmaga-retard]

NWO Geoengineers Manufacture Yet Another Superstorm To Aim Right At Tallahassee

NWO Weather Terrorists Now Using AI to Predict Superstorms That Geoengineers Then Manufacture Off The Coast Of The Yucatan To Target Specific Conservative/Christian Communities As Well As State Election Hubs Such As Tallahassee, FL

Submitted by The Weather Warfare Analyst State of the Nation

First, read this previous exposé linked below in order to fully grasp how the NWO geoterrorists routinely geoengineer frankenstorms in the Gulf of Mexico in order to aim these superstorms at specific targets located in the very RED Deep South.

FLASHBACK! HURRICANE MICHAEL: A Geoengineered Superstorm Targeting Tallahassee and Florida Panhandle—Why!

Next, here’s another important post, which was sent to Gov. Ron DeSantis as an “open letter” during the middle of hurricane season two years ago when Florida was facing the very same predicament of unrelenting geoterrorism.

NWO Globalists Targeting Red States With Relentless Weather Warfare

 A New Weaponized Weather Paradigm

“The last three mega-hurricanes to hit the continental US, which all struck Florida, were each manufactured in this fashion.  The latest highly destructive superstorm was Hurricane Idalia (Hurricane Debbie has since hit the very same region in Florida in early August of 2024), which was stealthily geoengineered initially off the coast of the Yucatan (see the preceding map), where the highly advanced technology and sophisticated equipment is located to generate superstorms from their very inception.  That technology includes, at the very minimum, a specific mix of chemical geoengineering techniques (read: chemtrails), Nexrad radar stations, HAARP-level frequency emitters, and power plant-generated water vapor.” (SOURCE: AN NWO GEOENGINEERED SUPERSTORM IS SLAMMED INTO FLORIDA WITH PURPOSEFUL DESIGN

Tropical Storm Helene

For several days the National Hurricane Center at the NOAA headquarters in Miami, Florida had a red X (see map below) quite curiously positioned on their “Atlantic – Caribbean Sea – Gulf of Mexico” map of potential storm activity.

[contemplatingoutlander]

Opinion | Justices course correct on gun control. Don’t count on it to continue.

The Supreme Court, at least for now, cleans up some of the mess from its Bruen ruling in 2022.

Ruth Marcus discusses the ramifications for reasonable gun control legislation as a result of the Supreme Court's United States v. Rahimi decision. This is a gift🎁link, so you can read the entire article even if you don't subscribe to The Washington Post. Below are some excerpts:

Two years ago, the Supreme Court created predictable havoc with its declaration that gun restrictions could only be justified under the Second Amendment if they were rooted in history and tradition. On Friday, the court cleaned up some of that mess, upholding the constitutionality of a federal law that prohibits those subject to domestic violence restraining orders from possessing guns. Only Justice Clarence Thomas, author of the earlier ruling, dissented. [...] Friday’s ruling made clear, as Roberts put it, that Second Amendment law is not “trapped in amber,” requiring a precedent precisely on point. “Since the founding, our Nation’s firearm laws have included provisions preventing individuals who threaten physical harm to others from misusing firearms,” Roberts wrote. “As applied to the facts of this case, [the domestic abuse law] fits comfortably within this tradition.” There is an infuriating blame-the-victim tone to the majority opinion, lamenting that “some courts have misunderstood the methodology of our recent Second Amendment cases.” Really? As Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson observed, "Bruen" unleashed “chaos” in the lower courts as judges engaged in a “mad scramble for historical records,” an enterprise for which they are ill-equipped and for which the court provided woefully inadequate guidance. [...] Sotomayor, in a concurrence joined by Kagan, zeroed in on the inherent limitations of the historical approach. “Given the fact that the law at the founding was more likely to protect husbands who abused their spouses than offer some measure of accountability, it is no surprise that that generation did not have an equivalent” to the law disarming domestic abusers, she noted. [...] Perhaps more interesting was the array of approaches endorsed by the conservative justices.... Justice Neil M. Gorsuch emphasized that the historical inquiry shouldn’t be watered down to too great a level of generality, lest courts “risk gaming away an individual right the people expressly preserved for themselves,” signaling, perhaps, that for him Rahimi’s case was a one-off. Justice Amy Coney Barrett, who has been musing openly this term about how to apply the historical test, emphasized that “imposing a test that demands overly specific analogues has serious problems,” and said the absence of a restriction wasn’t necessarily dispositive. At the same time, Barrett expressed doubt about looking to historical practices long after ratification of the text at issue. [emphasis added]

Clarence Thomas still cannot admit he went too far in his Bruen decision.

Surprisingly, Ruth Marcus doesn't directly address Clarence Thomas's lone dissent. Here is an excerpt from a NY Times article that does so:

In dissent, Justice Thomas vehemently disagreed with the majority’s approach. “The court and government do not point to a single historical law revoking a citizen’s Second Amendment right based on possible interpersonal violence,” he wrote. Justice Thomas wrote that the government has a better way to disarm dangerous people — by prosecuting them for criminal violence. What the government cannot do, he said, is to “strip the Second Amendment right of anyone subject to a protective order — even if he has never been accused or convicted of a crime.” [emphasis added]

In his Rahimi dissent, Thomas appears to be more concerned about his ego (regarding his Bruen "historical analysis" rule) than in the implications of allowing people under domestic violence restraining orders to obtain guns.

Furthermore, Thomas's suggestion that "a better way" to deal with this is through "criminal violence" prosecutions, ignores the fact that not everyone under a restraining order has criminal charges filed against them. And even if they do, they can avoid conviction (or at least delay it through appeals) if they have the means to hire good attorneys.

Thomas is neither the "textualist" nor the "originalist" that he claims to be. He created the Bruen "historical analysis" rule out of thin air to bolster Heller's willful misinterpretation of the Second Amendment--a decision which overturned 200 years of precedent.

[ellie-the-oracle]

Freefalling From Great Heights - A Discussion & Analysis

Hey guys. So, I lied about getting off socials LOL I really need to go full on film theory here and talk about the fall. I do want to preface though and say that I am not a woman of science (I’m an art girlie), therefore I won’t be able to make any sort of proper calculations. Without further ado, I’m going to break down the whole fall and discuss how Tech could’ve and probably did survive. 

First and foremost, I want to go back and take a look at the most clear shot given to viewers of the height between the tram system and the perceived ground level. In this picture, we get a brief glimpse from Wrecker’s POV of how far down it is from the trams. 

While it looks quite high, considering they are practically in the clouds, it is important to note the amount of foliage this planet has; a vast amount large trees, specifically tall pine trees.

These types of trees are not uncommon in biomes that include bodies of water. Consider the images below.

 While it is not definitive, it can be safe to assume that there could have been a stream or body of water below in that valley. However, even if this was not the case, the trees are large enough that they can dampen a fall, even if it is from a great height. This leads me to my next point: 

How high of a fall can humans survive?

An NCBI article covers the case of a rock climber who had fallen from a total of 300 feet and survived. Though she suffered many severe injuries, she was able to recover after extensive medical care. According to this article, the way in which a person falls is imperative to survival. In particular, if a person is falling vertically, they can survive an average fall height of 23 feet and 7 inches (7.2 meters) with minor to moderate injury. Survivable injuries have a threshold of around 20-25 feet. Yet the rock climber was able to survive at even greater heights. That being said, according to an article by Arnold & Atkin Trial Lawyers, 20 feet and below can still prove to be fatal. Moreover, fatal falls usually are between 21 and 40 feet. Considering all the information thus far, it would seem that Tech is exceptionally fucked. But stay with me folks, I’m not done cooking yet.

While it is not common, humans have, in fact, survived free falls at extreme heights. Take for example Vesna Vulović, a Serbian flight attendant who holds the Guinness world record for surviving the highest freefall without a parachute: 33,330 feet (10,160 meters). She was in a coma for days and spent several months hospitalized. She suffered a fractured skull, three broken vertebrae, broken legs, broken ribs, and a fractured pelvis, leaving her temporarily paralyzed from the waist down. Despite all of this, she made a nearly complete recovery, only continuing to walk with a limp. 

In another case, Nicholas Alkemade, a British tail gunner of the Royal Air Force during World War II, survived a freefall of 18,000 feet (5, 490 meters). His fall was broken by pine trees and a soft snow cover on the ground. 

While the first case can be safely considered as a miracle, it's the second case that is interesting. The pilot survived a freefall from a height he should’ve died from. Yet, due to the large trees and the snow on the floor, his fall was cushioned and allowed for him to survive. 

Now, taking what we discussed and applying it to the Star Wars universe, the chances of Tech surviving is definitely in our favour. Firstly, we know there is a lot of foliage (bushes, grass, etc.), and there are also massive trees. But we must remember that this isn’t just some random, unprepared person that is falling. This is Tech, a highly skilled, highly intelligent, and well equipped clone trooper. It is also important to mention that he is wearing a helmet and a chest plate, which provides protection to critical body parts. Knowing him, Tech could have very well put his gear to use and used a grappling hook to attach to a tree and create momentum from his fall to swing onto the ground. He could have also gotten into the falling tram and found a way to cushion his fall. But let’s say he does neither of these things (perhaps due to the speed at which he was falling), Tech can still survive if he falls vertically into the pine trees and foliage, which will cushion his fall, just like Nicholas Alkemade and the rock climber, respectively.

Furthermore, based on all that has been discussed and considered, the chances of survival of a freefall from that height, while seemingly impossible, is in fact, possible and likely. 

Sources:

[thepastisalreadywritten]

The United States has returned to the lunar surface for the first time in more than 50 years after a privately-built spacecraft named Odysseus capped a nail-biting 73-minute descent from orbit with a touchdown near the moon’s south pole.

Amid celebrations of what NASA hailed “a giant leap forward,” there was no immediate confirmation of the status or condition of the lander, other than it had reached its planned landing site at crater Malapert A.

But later Intuitive Machines, the Texas-based company that built the first commercial craft to land on the moon, said the craft was “upright and starting to send data.”

The statement on X said mission managers were “working to downlink the first images from the lunar surface.”

The so-called “soft landing” on Thursday, which Steve Altemus, the company’s founder, had given only an 80% chance of succeeding, was designed to open a new era of lunar exploration as NASA works towards a scheduled late-2026 mission to send humans back there.

“Welcome to the moon,” Altemus said when touchdown when the 5.23pm touchdown was eventually confirmed, after about 10 minutes in which Odysseus was out of contact.

It was the first time any US-built spacecraft had landed on the moon since NASA’s most recent crewed visit, the Apollo 17 mission in December 1972, and the first visit by commercial vehicle following last month’s failure of Peregrine One, another partnership between the space agency and a private company, Astrobotic.

“Today, for the first time in more than a half century, the US has returned to the moon. Today, for the first time in the history of humanity, a commercial company, an American company, launched and led the voyage up there,” Bill Nelson, the NASA administrator, said.

“What a triumph. Odysseus has taken the moon. This feat is a giant leap forward for all of humanity.”

There was no video of Odysseus’s fully autonomous descent, which slowed to about 2.2mph at 33ft above the surface.

But a camera built by students at Florida’s Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University was designed to fall and take pictures immediately before touchdown, and NASA cameras were set to photograph the ground from the spacecraft.

The 14ft (4.3 metres) hexagonal, six-legged Nova-C lander, affectionately nicknamed Odie by Intuitive Machines employees, is part of NASA’s commercial lunar payload services (CLPS) initiative in which the agency awards contracts to private partners, largely to support the Artemis program.

NASA contributed $118m to get it off the ground, with Intuitive Machines funding a further $130m ahead of its February 15 launch from Florida’s Kennedy Space Center on a Falcon 9 rocket from Elon Musk’s SpaceX company.

The IM-1 mission, like the doomed Peregrine effort, is carrying a payload of scientific equipment designed to gather data about the lunar environment, specifically in the rocky region chosen as the landing site for NASA’s crewed Artemis III mission planned for two years’ time.

It is a hazardous area – “pockmarked with all of these craters,” according to Nelson – but chosen because it is believed to be rich in frozen water that could help sustain a permanent lunar base crucial to future human missions to Mars.

Scientists announced last year that they believed tiny glass beads strewn across the moon’s surface contained potentially “billions of tonnes of water” that could be extracted and used on future missions.

The risks are worth it, Nelson told CNN on Thursday, “to see if there is water in abundance. Because if there’s water, there’s rocket fuel: hydrogen, and oxygen. And we could have a gas station on the south pole of the moon.”

The planned operational life of the solar powered lander is only seven days, before the landing site about 186 miles from the moon’s south pole moves into Earth’s shadow.

But NASA hopes that will be long enough for analysis of how soil there reacted to the impact of the landing.

Other instruments will focus on space weather effects on the lunar surface, while a network of markers for communication and navigation will be deployed.

“Odysseus, powered by a company called Intuitive Machines, launched upon a SpaceX rocket, carrying a bounty of NASA scientific instruments, is bearing the dream of a new adventure in science, innovation, and American leadership in space,” Nelson said.

Through Artemis, NASA’s return-to-the-moon program that also has longer-term visions of crewed missions to Mars within the next two decades, the US seeks to stay ahead of Russia and China, both of which are planning their own human lunar landings.

Only the US has previously landed astronauts in six Apollo missions between 1969 and 1972, while five countries have placed uncrewed spacecraft there.

Japan joined the US, Russia, China, and India last month when its Smart Lander for Investigating the Moon (Slim) made a successful, if awkward touchdown after a three-month flight.

Two further Intuitive Machines launches are scheduled for later this year, including an ice drill to extract ingredients for rocket fuel, and another Nova-C lander containing a small Nasa rover and four small robots that will explore surface conditions.

https://www.theguardian.com/science/2024/feb/22/us-moon-landing-odysseus-intuitive-machines

US returns to lunar surface with for first time in over 50 years

23 February 2024

A spacecraft built and flown by Texas-based company Intuitive Machines landed near the south pole of the moon, the first US touchdown on the lunar surface in more than half a century, and the first ever achieved entirely by the private sector.

Communication with Odysseus seemed be lost during the final stages of the landing, leaving mission control uncertain as to the precise condition and position of the lander, according to flight controllers heard in the webcast.

US returns to lunar surface for first time in over 50 years: ‘Welcome to the moon.’

[genyawritesshizz]

Roaring Muscles

Summary: Toshinori meets someone at the gym.

Takes place while he's studying abroad.

Silly little oneshot that I literally wrote in the span of a couple hours. No editing soooo yeah if you see grammatical errors my bad.

I've been wanting to write something for this OC I've had stuck in my head for ages sooo maybe I'll write more with her in it should this be received well and or I find time to do so. We'll see.

2500-word count

Due to the devastating loss of Nana, the looming threat of all for one resurfacing and the inexperience of wielding one for all Gran Torino had sent the freshly UA graduated Toshinori to America. Studying abroad would hopefully buy the aspiring symbol of peace enough time to become what he so desperately wanted to be.

So far, life in America had been every bit of excitement as Yagi had imagined, the initial first month had been the toughest. Adjusting to western culture, no matter how well versed he thought he was, still took getting used to. No western nor action thriller could have properly prepared him for the hustle and bustle of California, yet with his first semester of college on the horizon he pushed himself to do his best.

“Do you want to hit the gym with me?” Looking up from his textbook David, Yagi’s roommate, smiled but inevitably looked back at the words.

“Can’t, got an exam coming up.”

“Already? But the semester just started.”

“Ha, you’re telling me? Unfortunately, Finite Element Analysis waits for no one.” David gave a piteous chuckle and shook his head “Go on ahead without me”

Wishing his friend the best of luck with his studies, Toshinori grabbed his water bottle and headed out, jogging the short distance from his dorm to the gym. The first section of the gym had been dedicated to more normal, everyday gym equipment, for the average human. However, the back half had been optimized for students with stronger, strength-based quirks. Racks that could support thousands of pounds as opposed to hundreds, and plates stacked high into the tons. Toshinori’s bread and butter.

Approaching the open locker area he placed his keys inside, however the clinking of another locker opening beside him guided his gaze over. From the corners of his vision his heart leapt into the back of his throat. 

A woman stood before him, depositing her purse into the locker. Her striking slitted amber eyes focused on the phone held within her hands. Thin eyebrows scrunching as nimble fingers tapped at the screen.

‘She’s bea-’

As the thought entered his mind the slamming of the locker derailed it. Walking away, the woman ventured out, lost to the field of equipment. Fixing his gaze back into the chipped gray paint of his own locker and taking a sip from his water bottle the now flustered hero snapped back to reality. 

Entering his domain he took notice of the already hard at work patrons, eyes scanning for any available racks. Spotting a seemingly unoccupied station he set to work on loading the bar. Laying down on the cooled leather of the bench and adjusting his grip for proper form he began his first set. However, as he racked the weight for a brief rest between sets his eyes caught onto the person in front of him at the squat rack. 

The same woman from the lockers loaded up her own rack. Yagis watched as she carried plate after plate to the lowered bar, eyes widening as he mentally tallied up the weight.

He had only been attending this gym for a few weeks and already he had seen his fair share of overzealous gym rats try their luck at pushing far too heavy of weights, normal civilians trying to show off and inevitably failing. Yagi feared if he had not been there to pick up the slack they would have sustained possible life threatening injuries. Crushed spines, skulls and knees were no laughing matter.

Sitting up from his bench, ready to launch himself over to assist with bated breath, he watched as the woman clipped the bar off and stood before the whopping two thousand pound load. Bending down, keeping her legs spread but firm for a solid base, and placing both hands firmly on the bar she lifted it with ease.

‘She's…she’s reaping it?!’

Slowly with arms straight and back flat she pulled the bar up eight times in a deadlift before letting the bar down with a solid thunk at the end of her first set. 

Now in awe Yagi took a better look at the shocking woman before him. Though facing away he could still map out some distinguishing features. 

First off, she was tall. Far taller than any woman he had seen to date. A ponytail of thick burnt orange curls clipped haphazardly over a long sleeved shirt that hung loosely off her frame. Yet what caught his attention was the tail that sprouted out from her baggy sweatpants. The fuzzy furred appendage swayed to and from, its distinctive black stripes clued the mesmerized man as to what her quirk would be.

“Hey man, are you done with this bench?”

His head whipped around, knocked from his daze, Yagi looked up. A man glared down at him; annoyance written within furrowed brows. 

“Uh yeah let me just finish my set.” Laying back down he quickly reaped out the remaining sets, once again flustered by this mysteriously strong woman.

Moving onto his next exercise he grabbed two dumbbells, taking a seat that faced a mirrored wall and began shoulder pressing the weight.

However, once again curious eyes wondered, looking behind himself through the mirror he spied the woman again. Laying down onto the leg press, weight again loaded far higher than he anticipated she too began the exercise. Now with a clear view of her face he again took note. High cheekbones lined down to a strong jawline, and full expressive lips parted with deep breaths after each push. 

‘She’s truly beautiful… and those ey-’

A solid ‘thunk’ against his head shot his attention back to his own work. He had accidentally brought the dumbbell down too close to his noggin, resulting in a now aching spot.

‘Focus’

Grinding out the remainder of his arm workout, sweat soaked and in need of water Yagi retreated back to his locker. The mysterious woman had vanished, the locker she once occupied left open and empty. A small pit of sadness wailed at the bottom of his stomach, he had hoped to at least say hello. 

The jog back to his dorm filled with thoughts of the woman.

‘What type of animal has a tail like that? A lion? Panther? No, no, not those. Tiger? Yes! A tiger that's it. Tiger quirk. Hm, so she must have enhanced strength. What other abilities does she possess? Maybe she’d fast too?’ Even as he entered the shared space his mind still caught within its curiosity. 

“How was the gym?” David stood within the small kitchenette.

“Hm? oh, It was fine.”  

Nodding and somewhat puzzled at his usually talkative roommate's sudden reluctance, David retreated back to his desk.

The following days every time Toshinori had returned to the gym he searched for her, never intending to be creepy, as in he never sought her out, though his eyes would always wander.  

Walking toward the edges of the room in search of a cable attachment his eyebrows furrowed as the sounds of something being slammed filter into his ears. 

Following the commotion to a closed off room labeled ‘Martial Arts’ he cracked the door open, peeking inside. The brutal slams ricocheted off the small rooms walls. 

‘It’s her.’ 

Repeatedly, faster than Yagis curious eyes could keep up with skin met leather in brutal kicks.

Like a predator to its prey, her gaze held steadfast to the swinging bag. Uncaring to the blond protruding on her hunting grounds.

‘She seems busy. Maybe next time. Yes, next time I’ll talk to her’ 

Once again back at the dorm with his mind full David eyed him skeptically.

“What's with the face?”

“What face?” Finally looking at his roommate Yagi could feel the heat radiating off his cheeks, threatening to leak over to his ears. “That! You’ve got this flustered look on your face. Did something happen at the gym?” 

“No! Nothing happened.” Squinting behind thick rimmed glasses the engineer peered up to bashful roommate. The wavering smile stretched across his chiseled features did little to back his dismissal.  

“Did you meet someone?”

“I mean- No! No i didn’t” 

“You’re a damn bad liar Toshi. Who was it?” Sighing with slumped shoulders he gave up his attempt to hide.

“Fine. Yes, I did see someone there, but I have no idea who they were.”

“You didn’t try to talk to them?”

“No I didn’t.” His bottom lip kicked out just a tad in defeat.   

“I’m surprised, you don’t seem like the shy type.”

“I’m not! But, she looked focused and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Mhm sure.” Teasingly drawing out the last word a smirk spread across the side of David lips. “What did she look like?”

‘Beautiful.’

“Uh she has an animal quirk, a tiger I think and she was in the martial arts room today. Oh and she’s really tall and strong and…” Trailing off the blush finally creeped over at his blatant admiration.

“Oh! I wonder if it was Ellie.”

“You know her?” David could not help but laugh at his friend's excitement, Toshi’s vibrant cerulean eyes widening and beaming into him as if he had just spilled the nation's top secrets.

“She’s also in the hero course, though I think she’s in the other class. My friend Sarah was assigned to make her gear this semester. Like how I’ve been assigned to make yours. I’ve talked to her a bit.”

“I see…” Trailing off with a nod of his head Toshinori felt unsure as to what to say next. Would it have been impolite to ask David to introduce them? Was that the coward's way out? Yagi was no coward.

“Yeah, she seems pretty chill.”

“Chill?” 

‘She’s cold? Is that from her quirk?’ American slang was still something he had to get accustomed to.

“Relaxed, easygoing. You should try talking to her next time.”

“I will!” Determined, his once wavering smile returned to its bold and boisterous shine. Yagi is no coward! He will talk to her!

“I'm going to the gym, do you want to go?”

“Nah, Sarah’s supposed to come over in a bit to study.”Nodding at his dismissal he grabbed his keys and water bottle, ready to head out however just as he turned to leave David yelled back to him. 

“Don’t forget, talk to her!” Giving a seldom thumbs up he began his jog to the gym.

‘She might not even be there, but if she is…’

Entering the designated area he attempted to focus solely on his own leg workout. 

‘If I see her I'll talk to her I-’ The words of encouragement came to a screeching halt as he racked the weight he was squatting and finally gazed out into the spacious gym. 

Laying flat on the bench he had occupied days prior pressing weights there she was, tail flicking and back slightly arched. 

Awaiting for her to finish, so as to not interrupt, he uneasily approached.

‘Just talk to her, afterall David said she was..cold? No that's not the word… Chill! She’s chill!’

“Hi, I-” Before the words could even leave his mouth she got up from the bench and walked away. Stunned at her disregard, yet catching her side profile he quickly zeroed in on the earbuds placed in her small cat-like ears.

‘She can’t hear me…Maybe I shou- NO! I’m going to talk to her!’

Throughout his remaining time at the gym Toshinori had tried to steel his nerves and face his hesitation head on just to simply introduce himself, yet each time he approached she always seemed to slip out of his grasp. 

Defeated once again he settled for a short sprint of the treadmill as a cool down. As his thunderous footsteps pounded away and his thoughts reflected the whirling of the machine next to him shifted his focus.

There she was, pace increasing and vibrant curls bouncing with each step. She moved so agile, gliding into the movements, arms held by her sides moving in tandem.

‘She’s so-’

 His stomach plummeted as his foot caught against the other, the world rapidly turning vertical. Pushing his arms out in an attempt to catch himself only resulted in the poor skin of his wrist to grind against the speeding belt. His hulking body was sent flying off in a colossal heap.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Regaining his senses his eyes opened, right before him she stood, hand outstretched, slitted eyes finally locked onto him. 

The reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks, he just fell… in front of her. The first time she’s ever taken notice of him and it's of him embarrassing himself. Just as his mind began its nuclear meltdown the gleam of concern glinting into her eyes shook him away.

“Y-yes, yes, I’m alright.” However, as his own hand reached out to grasp hers a hiss slithered through his clenched teeth.

“Looks like you skinned your arm pretty bad, I’ve got some spray that’ll help with that in my purse, common.”   

Before he could object she heaved Toshinori back to his feet with a single pull and ushered him over to the locker area. 

Standing before the lockers she rummaged through her purse, before bringing out a small bottle wound wash.

“Why do you carry that in your purse?” laughing she bent her wrist to show her tattered knuckles, the skin red and purple.

“Martial arts.”

Silently nodding he watched as she removed the cap, retaking his hand into hers and angled the spray.

“This might sting a bit.”

Indeed it did, yet Yagi’s mind was simply too enraptured to care. Up close he could see the faint stripes racing up her arms, the streaks of auburn in her hair, the golden flakes in her slitted eyes. She was even more ethereal up close.

Unbeknownst to him, she had taken notice of his love drunken expression, not that it was hidden. 

Truth be told she had noticed him here plenty of other times. It was pretty hard to miss someone who managed to be both taller and stronger than her. The way he carried himself screamed power and confidence, yet here within her touch he seemed no better than a pubescent school boy. 

After a few spritz and fanning, she turned back to riffle through her purse once more.

“Wha-”

Cut off by the cool gel of ink gliding against the unmarred side of his arm, Toshinori gazed down at her penmanship. 

He could not believe his eyes.

‘Ellie Brooks xxx-xxx-xxxx Call me.’

‘She... she gave me her number?’

Recapping the pen and depositing it back into her purse she slung the bag over her arm, heading towards the exit.

“YES!” The booming thunderous praise caused her to turn around, finding the man she had just given her number to shocked and reddened at his own outburst. She could not help but laugh.

‘He’s cute.’