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excalculus · 1 month

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I saw some mentions of rabies going around again and have no clue what's set it off this time, but given recent scientific developments I want to revisit the idea of curing symptomatic rabies.

First things first: there is still no practical way to do this. The famous Milwaukee Protocol fails far more frequently than it succeeds, and even the successes are not making it out in anything like a normal state. It's been argued that it should no longer be considered a valid treatment [1] due to these issues; any continued use is because there's literally nothing else on the table.

However. There are now two separate studies showing it's possible to cure rabies in mice after the onset of symptoms. The lengths you have to go to in order to pull this off are drastic, to put it mildly, and couldn't really be adapted to humans even if you wanted to. But proof of concept is now on the board.

long post under the cut, warnings for animal experimentation and animal death. full bibliography at the end and first mention of each source links to paper.

Quick recap - rabies is a viral disease of mammals usually transmitted through the saliva of an infected animal. From a contaminated bite wound, it propagates slowly for anywhere from days to months until it reaches the central nervous system (CNS). Post-exposure vaccination can head it off during this phase, but once it reaches the CNS and neurological symptoms appear it's game over. There will typically be a prodromal phase where the animal doesn't act right - out at the wrong time of day, disoriented, abnormally friendly, etc. This will then progress to the furious (stereotypical "mad dog" disease) and/or paralytic phases, with death eventually caused by either seizures or paralysis of the muscles needed for breathing.

That's the course we're familiar with in larger animals. Mice, though, are fragile little creatures with fast metabolisms.

In the first study's rabies infection model, lab mice show rabies virus in the spinal cord by day 4 after infection and in the brain by day 5. Weight loss and slower movement start by day 7, paralysis starting from the hind limbs from day 8 on, and if not euthanized first they're dead by day 10-13. [2]

This study (fittingly conducted at the Institut Pasteur) had two human monoclonal antibodies, and wanted to see if there was any possibility they could be used to cure rabies after what we think of as the point of no return.

Injecting the antibodies into muscle saved some mice if done at days 2 or 4, and none if done later, even at high doses of 20 milligrams per kilogram of body weight of each. Conclusion: targeting the virus out in the rest of the body is no use if it's already replicating in the CNS.

Getting a drug past the blood-brain barrier is, to use a highly technical term, really fucking hard. It's the sort of problem that even the best-funded labs and biggest companies in the world routinely fail at. And that's for small molecule drugs, which are puny compared to antibodies.

But this isn't drug development for a clinical trial. This is a very, very early proof-of-concept attempt, which means you're willing to ignore practicality to see if this idea is even remotely workable. So you can do things like brute force the issue by cutting through the skull to implant a microinfusion pump, which lets you deliver the antibodies directly into the normally-protected space around the brain. Combine this with the normal injections, and you can treat both the CNS and the rest of the body at the same time. Here's a survival graph of treated mice. X axis is days, Y axis is percentage of mice in that group still alive.

Figure 2A from reference 2, accessed February 2024

The fact that the blue, green, and purple lines did anything other than sink horribly to zero is unheard of. When the combination treatment was started at day 6, 100% of the mice survived. Started at day 7 (prodromal phase), 5 out of 9 mice recovered and survived. Started at day 8 (solidly symptomatic, paralysis already starting to set in), 5 of 15 mice recovered and survived. And when they say "survived", they kept these mice all the way to day 100 to make sure. Some of them had permanent minor paralysis but largely they were back to being normal mice doing normal mouse things. So, success, but by pretty extreme means.

Enter the second paper [3]. This was a different approach using a single human monoclonal antibody against Australian bat lyssavirus (ABLV - closely related to rabies, similar symptoms in humans) to try for a cure without needing to deliver treatments directly into the CNS. They also made a luminescent version of ABLV that let them directly image viral activity, so they could see both where the virus was replicating and how much there was in a live mouse.

Figure 1 from reference 3, accessed February 2024

Mice infected with ABLV start showing symptoms around day 8. You can see in the figure that at day 3 there's viral replication in the foot at the site of infection, which has shifted into the spine and brain by day 10. So what happens if you give one of these doomed mice one single injection of the antibody into the body?

Done at day 3, the virus doesn't make it to the brain until day 14, and while disease does set in after that around 30% of the mice survive. Days 5 and 7 are much more interesting. Those mice still develop symptoms at day 8, but the imaging shows the amount of virus in their spines and brains never gets anywhere near the levels seen in untreated controls, and within days it starts to decrease. Around 80% of day 5 and 100% of day 7 mice survive.

Okay, sure, you can stop another lyssavirus, but technically you did start treatment before symptoms appeared. What about symptomatic rabies?

The rodent-adapted rabies strain CVS-11 starts causing symptoms as early as day 3 after infection, and untreated mice die between days 8 and 11. The same single dose of antibody saved 67% of mice treated on day 5 and 50% of mice treated on day 7. Without making the luminescent version of the virus there's no real-time imaging of the infection, but you can still track symptoms.

Figure 2 from reference 3, accessed February 2024. CVS-11 is the name of the rodent rabies strain and F11 is the name of the antibody.

Disease score is a combination of several metrics including things like whether the mice are behaving normally and whether they show signs of paralysis. In untreated mice it goes up and up, and then they die. If one of those lines starts coming back down and continues past day 10 or so, that's a mouse that recovered. The success rate isn't as good as against ABLV, but again, this is a rabies strain specifically adapted to rodents and treatment wasn't started until it was well-established in the CNS.

So how on earth is this happening? The antibody neutralizes both ABLV and rabies really well in a test tube, but we've already established that there's no way a huge lumbering antibody is making it past the blood-brain barrier without serious help. Something about the immune response is clearly making it in there though. And it turns out that if you start trying this cure in mice missing various parts of their immune systems, mice without CD4+ T cells don't survive even with the treatment. By contrast mice without CD8+ T cells take longer to work through the infection, but they eventually manage it and are immune to reinfection afterwards.

To grossly oversimplify the immune system here, CD4+ are mature helper T cells, which work mostly by activating other immune cells like macrophages (white blood cells) and CD8+ T cells (killer T cells) against a threat.

Normally, T cells are also kept out by the blood-brain barrier, but we know that in certain specific cases including viral infection they can pass it to migrate into the brain. In the brains of the infected mice for which antibody treatment either wasn't given or didn't work, you can find a roughly even mix of CD8+ and CD4+ T cells along with a whole lot of viral RNA. But in the brains of those successfully fighting off the infection, there's less viral RNA and the cells are almost exclusively CD4+. So the antibody doesn't work by neutralizing the virus directly - something about it is activating the animal's own immune system in a way that gives it a fighting chance.

Again, neither of these proof of concept treatments is really workable yet as a real world cure. The first one is almost hilariously overkill and still has a pretty good chance of failure. The second is less invasive but careful sequencing still shows both low-level viral replication and signs of immune response in the brains of the survivors even at day 139, so it may not be truly clearing the virus so much as trading a death sentence for life with a low-level chronic infection. But now we know that 1. curing rabies after symptoms begin is at least theoretically possible, and 2. we have some clues as to mechanisms to investigate further.

Not today. Not tomorrow. But maybe not never, either.

References:

Zeiler, F. A., & Jackson, A. C. (2016). Critical appraisal of the Milwaukee protocol for rabies: this failed approach should be abandoned. Canadian Journal of Neurological Sciences, 43(1), 44-51.

de Melo, G. D., Sonthonnax, F., Lepousez, G., Jouvion, G., Minola, A., Zatta, F., ... & Bourhy, H. (2020). A combination of two human monoclonal antibodies cures symptomatic rabies. EMBO molecular medicine, 12(11), e12628.

Mastraccio, K. E., Huaman, C., Coggins, S. A. A., Clouse, C., Rader, M., Yan, L., ... & Schaefer, B. C. (2023). mAb therapy controls CNS‐resident lyssavirus infection via a CD4 T cell‐dependent mechanism. EMBO Molecular Medicine, 15(10), e16394.

#rabies #biology #long post #animal death #medicine #original content

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katyawriteswhump · 3 months

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Lie for me (steddie microfic)

Written for @steddiemicrofic February prompt, ‘Edge.’ Alt canon: Eddie is arrested soon after Chrissy’s murder, and his boyfriend, Steve, takes drastic measures to help him.

WC: 509 CW: None Rating: T

…

“You killed Chrissy Cunningham!” The interrogator slams his fist onto the table. “Say it, Munson.”

“I… I…” Eddie teeters on the brink. He’s endured questions for twelve hours, confessed only the truth. I wasn’t there when the crazy shit started. I ran because…

“You know what happened,” coos the interrogator. “Tell me. This’ll be over.”

Eddie stares at his trembling hands. He’s so tired, sweaty and mixed-up, he almost believes… Did I kill her?

“I… I…”

Officer Powell pokes his head round the door. The interrogator yells, “WHAT?”

“There’s been a development.”

Powell frogmarches Eddie to a cell. Eddie falls forward onto the bunk and silently screams. He’ll never see Steve again, or his friends, and… Goddammit, Chrissy!

He descends into an edgy slumber, reliving those final moments. In his nightmares, he becomes some evil puppet-master, pulling the strings that inflicted her horrible torture.

Voices revive him.

“Listen, son.” Powell uncuffs Steve—Steve!?!—and shoves him into the adjoining cell. “Next time you confess to homicide, check you don’t have an ironclad alibi, providing a taxi service to half-a-dozen kids.” Steve rubs his wrists, blinks as if dazed. “You cool off, while we decide what to charge you with.”

Eddie squeaks: “What the—?”

Seconds later, they’re pressed to the bars that divide their cells, attempting an uncomfortable approximation of a hug. They kiss, and it’s brief, warm, desperate.

“They wouldn’t let me see you!” Steve looks somehow furious, loving, and terrified, his eyes bloodshot. “I was verging on losing it. I couldn’t think what else to do.”

“You confessed to murder?” Eddie rests his forehead against Steve’s. “I love you, you idiot, but you shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you.”

“You don't know that.” Eddie shudders, extracts himself, turns to the shadows. “She… Chrissy… Shiiiiit! Maybe I did—”

“Now who’s the idiot?” Steve catches Eddie’s sleeve and clings. “They tore me apart in ten minutes. Okay, I was lying, but in any long interrogation, those a-holes screw with you, push you to the edge. Make you believe anything.”

Eddie stares at Steve’s wrist, bruised where he’s strained against the cuffs. Oh, baby. Who turns themselves in, then struggles anyhow?

“Don’t let them win!” Steve tremulous anger tricks Eddie into looking up. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

The faith in Steve’s wide eyes proves devastating. Eddie’s lower lip wobbles, as he experiences a wisp of hope.

They settle on the floor, bars between them, shoulders still touching. Steve falls asleep and his soft breathing, the comfort of his nearness, keeps Eddie’s demons at bay.

When Powell reappears, Steve wakes with a cry, tangles his fingers with Eddie’s. Eddie’s heart squeezes painfully. Is this the last time they'll touch?

“Killer struck again—while YOU were here, Munson. You’d got that big city interrogator already convinced of your innocence, so…” Powell opens Eddie’s cell first. “Don’t leave town, boys.”

They’re processed, released, and then they crumple into each other’s arms. “What just happened?”

“I haven’t a clue.” Steve’s steely tone defies the fast, nervy gasps that ruffle Eddie’s hair: “Now you’re coming home with me.”

#steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficfebruary #steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #steddie microfic

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iceinwhb · 3 months

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Chocolates

Happy 14th of February!

Sitri: ¡Solo...!

Paimon: How pretty you look todaaaay! *Scratches Sitri and pushes him out of sight* Weeell, today is a special day, because this is the first Valentine's Day you're with uuuus. So, I wanted you to accompany me just for a...

Zagan: ... *He arrives suddenly at your side, with a small box decorated meticulously in one of his hands, which he extends to you silently, but before you could see it clearly, a shot is heard from the distance, and the pink box disappears.*

Leraye: That's so unfair! They didn't even wait for...!

*And before you could hear the end of Leraye's complaints, or even register another movement, you dived underground. Pink ribbons kept rising on your body, until finally you emerged from the ground.*

Eligios: You're finally here! The best thing would be to hide you before...

Bimet: Don't even think about it, you cheap bastard, she'll get my...!

Valefor: It is clear that you are both wrong. She will get first what I worked so hard to do.

Foras: I've got you. *He holds you in his arms, and cuts the ribbons, before entering the space inside the coffin.* Walk with me for a moment please, soon we will be in Hades and...

*You look at Glasyalabolas, who was standing in front with his arms crossed.*

Glasyalabolas: You weren't thinking of cheating, were you?

Foras: ... I brought her here first, so I have the right to be the one to give her my...

Barbatos: Solomon's daughter won't disappear whether you give her chocolates first or not, won't you accept my present first?

*A bright smile shows on his mouth, before he gives you a deep, lighthearted kiss. He holds you by the waist, pulls you away from Foras quickly, before some tentacle struck Barbatos and leads you into the corridors of Hades with a humming hum.*

Barbatos: I hope they don't take you from one place to another, so let's sort that out first before we....

Marbas: With your permission, descendant of Solomon. *He holds you affectionately from behind your back and his chin touches your shoulder.

Stolas: Solomon's daughter has an engagement with Abyssos. *A raven is placed over your head.* It's only fair that Abyssos should have his guest back.

Barbatos: This palace belongs to Hades and...

Marbas: I refuse. Paradise Lost is waiting for Solomon's descendant...

Morax: Anyway... It is not important for you to go anywhere, always... You can choose where to stay. *He came closer, breathing irregularly, before the pretty cheeks were stained red. The skin under the bandages was more interesting than Marbas, Barbatos and Stolas' fight* I came as fast as I could, I just want to hand you over....

*White fur covers your sight, and a long tongue runs all over your face. Morax helps you remove the Dog god, and you laugh, when the color of his skin becomes more reddish.*

Buer: Looks like he filled you with slime... I'll clean you. *A broad smile greets you, and Buer's fingers slide down your cheeks* By the way, can I give you my chocolate too. It may not be much, but I'd like to give you a present from me. Would you accept it?

*Before you could open your mouth, the Dog god lifts you up with his snout and makes you climb on top of him. You try to hold on, before you fall, and he left Hades' palace at full speed. The god seemed to have no course in mind, before another dog, with three heads, pushed the god away.*

Amon: Dogs. *He sighed, as he pulled you away from the dog fight, with Naberius and the white fur rolling on the ground.* How about eating something delicious? I saved it for...

Naberius: Don't you dare! *You turned your head in the direction of Naberius' furious shout, before the giant dog appeared again.*

Amon: We'd better go before he starts coming. *He whispered, as he grabbed you and flew too fast to realize you were already in Abyssos, entering the palace.* Hasn't anyone given you anything yet? Then, can I be the first to give you...

Bael: Do you want some chocolates?

*You turn your head, and stare at Bael. Your mouth waters at the sight of the sexy demon in an apron, spreading a strangely shaped tray on it.*

Stolas: *Suddenly arrives and throws the tray* What the fuck! Do you want to poison her?

*You, Amon and Bael look at the chocolates on the floor.*

⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧

A little late, but I had fun. I even overslept today after the horrible time with exams. 😵‍💫

But finally, I hope you enjoyed it! I don't know if I'll post an illustration, and I'm sorry if I didn't cover the kings, nor the other demons besides these, but it was more out of ignorance than not wanting to.

I already had this idea saved for you guys, that's why I didn't write any nsfw for the moment, but anyway.

#whb #what in hell is bad #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#whb all characters #ice's headcannon #whb headcanons #whb sitri #whb stolas #whb foras #whb morax

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vermillioncrown · 1 month

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ands snippet: fast and furious

Summary: Vivienne delivers on a promise and expected only the self-satisfaction of a “job well done.” His Dark Grace decides otherwise.

or tldr: the batmobile's first, official iteration gets its christening 😏 (making out + some d/s vibes) this is a write up of this post on how bruce (the batman, really) and vivienne "get together," originally written to entertain @rozaceous (and here's the link to the og concept) the gist is that it's pre-NYE party debacle, ros and vi are practically u-haul lesbians but it's no one's business (not even their authors') how involved they are with each other, and ros and bruce have not resolved their UST yet.

“—and there might be tolerance issues with the panels, but they should be resolved by next month.” Neel Singh, the Experimental Manufacturing lead, concludes his briefing and falls half a pace back.

“We’re not racing the clock, Neel.” Vivienne jots down her thoughts in her notepad, and adds, “The winter holidays are coming up. I don’t expect anything more until February, the earliest.”

“Y-Yes, of course.” After pressing him for continuous updates for the past few months, of course he’d feel discombobulated by the sudden release of the gas pedal, so to speak. Neel pulls out his phone to type a message. “Should I call anyone else to show you around, Vivienne? Someone from Facilities for the test track?”

Vivienne looks up and out past the glass, into the indoor test track where the subject of their discussion sits parked. All aerodynamic sleekness and curves, the diffused polish of a practical matte black coating, and the intuitive physical sense of power and nimbleness in its form…

Now that—that is her son, midwifed by the hardworking and circumspect members of her handpicked team.

A thought comes to mind. “We’re dealing with carbon fiber, yes? RTM process?”

Neel nods warily. “The team assessed it to be the best fit for purpose…”

“Let me see the molds. And I may have some thoughts on the trickier shapes.” At this point, it’s better to do things right than to play coy with knowledge. There aren’t any patents on the line, or papers to publish.

Bless Neel—he’s not the most inspirational team lead out there, but the man can get things done, keeps track of his flock, and does not put them in the line of fire if he can help it. It takes the entire hallway’s length to convince him that no, Vivienne isn’t here to take heads and draw blood. And yes, she does have some experience with composites. Thankfully, what she knows and has retained is relevant enough for their use case.

The setup tour and the technicians present are all of acceptable quality. There’s nothing wrong with their process, per se…

“I appreciate the team’s rationale in using vinyl ester. However, in application, the easier forming and mechanical properties with using epoxy should make it an appropriate trade-off,” she declares her verdict. No one is impolite enough to interrupt her (or they’re not green enough to), but the manufacturing team does exchange serious side eye among each other.

When dealing with technical experts, care must be taken to speak their language. Always acknowledge someone’s hard work, and give good faith that they’ve made their decision with good judgment behind it.

And, of course, one should give explicit reasoning when suggesting an alternative. “We won’t be seeing the same type of corrosion nor UV exposure on average, or most of the expected causes of catastrophic failure”—here, Vivienne meets their gazes directly, pausing deliberately so they get her gist— “will render long-term considerations, hm, superfluous.”

Various noises of scoffing and muffled chortles come from the team before her. “It’s likely to explode, GTA-style, before we care about actual sunlight in Gotham,” someone mutters. “Got it.”

Bonus: appeal to their good humor, show that you’re on their side. Show that if they work with you instead of against you, everyone benefits.

“Then, we’ll put the order in for epoxy instead?” Neel announces to the group.

“Let me liaison with the Testing guys, see which specific one they recommend,” one of the technicians answers while the others debate quietly between themselves. “And we need to check the MSDS for any changes needed.”

“Shouldn’t be much—I think we can relax some of the workflow, too,” another one calls out. “It’ll go a lot faster this round.”

Neel turns towards Vivienne, implicitly waiting for her approval.

“Go ahead,” she confirms. “No rush. You should have enough budget; if not, CC me on any requests.” She waits for Neel to nod before turning back to finish her notes.

One of the technicians whistles low and, undeterred by his coworker’s elbow to the gut, asks out loud, “How the hell are we getting the funding for this? It can’t be government.”

Vivienne pauses, looks up to raise an eyebrow at him. She gives it two seconds—enough to make it awkward but not enough to be aggressive—before answering nonchalantly, “Does it matter? As long as we can all go about our day without the mob brazenly shaking people down in public, or an attention-seeking wack job gassing the streets and locking down the expressway, I do not care.”

The emphasis nets her a “fair enough” gesture and no further questions, with the general atmosphere being one of jocular compliance and satisfaction.

Very good.

She turns to Neel, while announcing to the group at large, “That will be all. Everyone should make sure to confirm with my PA on their way out, so you all can receive your bonuses in a timely manner. Have a happy Thanksgiving.” Then, more directly at Neel: “I’ll meet with Facilities before closing the site for the holiday. Official half-day.”

He gets her unspoken “clear everyone out” order and turns to usher the technicians along, all while starting a phone call with other leads in the testing facility.

---

Vivienne takes the scenic route towards the direction of the Facilities Management suite, walking leisurely to keep her baby in her sights the entire time. She returns absent hums of acknowledgment to the people that greet her along her way, dismissing them when they try to ask if she needs anything, and eventually, the facility is empty.

Instead of turning into the Facilities suite, she goes to the nearby elevator to scan her card and wait.

The building lights dim to their low-occupancy standby state. Then, one of the shadows in the empty hallway distends into a vaguely humanoid form, stalking forward until there’s a glint of whited-out eyes.

Ever the dramatic. His Dark Grace’s penchant for positioning is comically perfect.

“I assume you’ve looped the cameras?” Vivienne tilts her head towards the Facilities suite.

The Batman gives a little, “Hm,” and continues towards her and the elevator.

Yes, duh. Vivienne doesn’t roll her eyes. It’d be wasted on this bat-shaped mime.

She instead flips her notepad to a later page, where she’s noted down the information received from Facilities via email a week ago. Meeting with them was entirely unnecessary. Her mind runs through what would be the most efficient loop of comprehensive testing—and if they waited until sunset, she could set up and open the outdoor portion of the track for “realistic conditions.”

It’s rather easy to ignore the looming shadow next to her—she’s had practice and more important things to think about. Normally, anyone impolite enough to look over her shoulder at her notes would be told to back off, but here she can hope that he’d absorb some proper methodology for fucking once. To be fair, any thought of “proper” leaves her head upon reaching the ground floor of the track.

The so-called “Batmobile” is gorgeous. If not in her heels, Vivienne would have sprinted over to him.

Her beautiful baby boy.

She tucks her notepad and pen away into her handbag, and loops the shoulder strap across her torso. All hands are needed for properly admiring this work of art.

“Ah—the slight ripples Neel mentioned,” she talks His Dark Grace through the visual inspection. “Project Lead Neel Singh,” she adds for clarification, letting him know who and what to satisfy his paranoia. “Yes, the matrix voids will be easier to mitigate with the modifications to their vacuum assistance setup, the tooling support, and of course, not using vinyl ester. More workable.”

She walks around the car, eyeing the front and back tires, noting the height of the chassis, and internally debates the optimum between aesthetics, performance, and practicality.

“Hm. This tire size is special order, but still commercial-off-the-shelf. The concern is that typical road conditions won’t allow for anything lower, but we need to balance the handling with the overall weight…especially since the chassis will be so lightweight.” She backs up and takes in the whole of the car’s form. “I…I’m actually a bit worried—we might not have the right balance between the aero and weight for the CG, being not for track purposes, so we can’t go as low as actual motorsport designs—”

“—then let’s test it,” Batman cuts through her fretting. He’s been following along with her inspection, practically hovering over her the entire time. The fingers of his gauntleted hand carefully trace where she was pointing out, trailing behind her hand’s path. “That’s why we’re here.”

Credit where credit is due—that’s true. At least he didn’t immediately demand to do so; his interjection is a polite ask, the bat and all things considered. And Vivienne wouldn’t have let him within a zip code of her new son if he wasn’t ready to handle. She can allow His Dark Grace some fun, for once.

She takes out the prototype key fob—slow enough to rile up the menacing furry next to her—and clicks. The doors unlock and pop slightly ajar before she dangles the fob in front of Batman.

He’s finally trained enough to be polite during their handovers; he takes the fob from her possession without force, and waits for her to situate herself in the passenger side before getting in himself.

“No helmets. Well, you better not get me killed,” Vivienne says blandly when Batman starts up the car. He purrs, lovely and smooth like a spoiled cat. “Or I won’t offer custom hubcaps. Ones with little bat decals.”

There’s a faint smirk on His Dark Grace’s face. “I’m better than that.” He teases with a brief revving of the engine.

The test track comes into hyperfocus in front of Vivienne; on a whim, she clicks an additional control up top near the rearview HUD of the car that opens up the gate to the outdoor track. She can recognize the adrenaline building up—it’s what follows a good challenge, either mental or physical, and she welcomes it with relish.

“Let’s see it, then,” she nods towards the gate, unable to help her toothy grin in return.

---

Her baby boy “handles,” is what Vivienne can say for now. She didn’t expect the response to be buttery smooth on first iteration, and for something experimental. The seeds of something are present—His Dark Grace pulled them into two hairpin turns in sequence—and coupled with the snappiness, she thinks they have an unpolished gem in their hands. The car is like having a barely tamed big cat, leashed up and ready to let loose on one’s orders.

It’s fucking exhilarating.

The stupid showoff figures out how to manage the car quickly enough. He pulls another turn that lets them slide perfectly against the side of the track into the bay that’s meant to be a small pit area. The uncovered half of his face is not as expressive as he pretends to be, day-to-day, but the expression present is full-on cocky as hell.

(Honestly, Vivienne can admit to liking it—or at least, this is much more tolerable than the public-facing himbo she needs to politely shake hands with whenever he deigns to muck around at the office.)

“Proven enough?” His typical growl is less forced, and more of a pleasant rumble that harmonizes nicely with the idling engine. In the full furry get-up, subtle side glances and all that aren't really possible. His Dark Grace turns to stare at her, goading for a response.

The cowl and the whited-out effect of the lenses are eerie up close, but dealing with the devil is much less intimidating when one has leverage. In Vivienne’s case—he knows she’s capable and motivated enough to possibly add something like a kill-switch to the car, just to fuck with him if he pisses her off. His Dark Grace wants her baby real bad, and with proof of concept she can probably get him to do anyt—

Hold up, Vi, say that again? Her inner Ros stops that train of thought.

“Differential adjustment shou—well. Acceptable,” she gives him the compliment, leaning back into the seat with a more relaxed posture. They never make the ergonomics of them fit for anyone of average height; her hairpin has slightly loosened from how the back of the seat rubbed against her updo, and she pulls the pin free to restyle her hair. She feels the Batman’s stare as he waits, and she keeps him waiting. “You’re competent and quick on the uptake. Adaptive.”

Wrangling the Batman was the equivalent of wrangling a division of egotistical engineers working at the cutting edge of everything—all very competent people that will step on each other’s toes, get in each other’s way, and are too used to being correct that they forget their purpose. The balance was slightly off here, becoming the classical joke of “one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses.”

But everyone has their leverage points, and all are susceptible to The Carrot versus The Stick in personalized ratios and applied judiciously. Vivienne didn’t aim to do anything as Machiavellian as put the Dark Knight of Gotham under her thumb, but that’s where he somehow ended up. She, by sheer grit, found the winning combo of getting him to listen to her—at least when it came to nonsensical designs—and actively soliciting her opinion. She’s not dumb enough to lose that leverage when she sees it in her hands. Maintaining it requires work: showing agreeableness to an extent, with the occasional reminder that he’s in her territory and he would do well to remember it. A little flick to the ego, occasionally.

It helps to put into perspective that, at the end of the day, Bruce Wayne the Batman is nearly five years younger than her. Engineers and technicians under her, the ones ranging from two to ten years younger, with a plethora of tertiary degrees between them—her mind can’t help flagging them as “children” until they temper themselves with a real project, from bid to deliverable.

So, of course her brain demoted the fucking CEO of her company and its parent conglomerate to being a “boy” as soon as he called her Lucius’s PA. She has found no evidence contrary to that ever since. With him neatly categorized, accounting for unique attributes and handling, Vivienne knows very well how to deal with “boys,” because she wouldn’t have gotten this far otherwise.

“Hah. If you had wrecked my shit, as with your typical M.O., maybe I could’ve gotten a nice dinner out of you tonight.” Her tone is intentionally sharper, diction and accent more crass with the habitual New Jersey attitude rather than her usual featureless cosmopolitan speech pattern. Dusk was here, steadily eating away the evening hours as autumn progressed. They’ve stayed later than she anticipated, but…

…for once, in a very long time, she was having fun. The evidence is on her teeth—she was grinning wide enough to catch some of her lipstick on her canines, which her tongue can clearly feel the slick of it.

“Well. We’re done here. Keep up with”—she gestures at the whole of him with a dismissive hand— “that well enough, don’t piss me off, and maybe you’ll earn your new toy by the end of next quarter.”

That whole posturing—after prolonged proximity and the hot-and-cold of seemingly hard-won praise versus snide dismissiveness—is supposed to make His Dark Grace harrumph and skulk away.

Today, he grabs her hand. It’s not violent or anything, but he doesn’t touch her. She’s lost her temper enough to jab her finger in his cowled face, and he’s been taken aback enough and in the position to let her. He’s never touched her.

That—that’s not in the script.

His Dark Grace continues to stare at her, his exposed jaw not quite clenched enough to denote a possible temper tantrum incoming. So, she minutely cocks her chin up, adding a slight challenging tilt to her expression with a raised eyebrow and the slight baring of her teeth in a sneering smile. What are you doing? Are you really—really?

He has her wrist with his left hand, and his full attention and facing is towards her. The right hand comes closer. And because he doesn’t pull her that she lets him, it’s so much closer until—of all fucking things—she feels the gauntlet leather past the corner of her mouth and pressure on her teeth.

The thumbpad has her lipstick stain on it from him wiping it away.

She scoffs, half-between a laugh and an incredulous squawk, and tries to tug her hand away. It doesn’t budge. “How badly do you want this car?” The tone isn’t right—wrong mix of scathing versus levity. And yet, it seems to draw him in closer, the tireless masochist that he is. “Didn’t I say ‘don’t piss me off’?”

“I’m hoping to do the opposite.” This close, he doesn’t bother with the growl at all. He’s almost inaudible over the engine. The lipstick-stained gauntlet cups her jaw, the thumb carefully avoiding her skin, and he leans in when she doesn’t resist.

What the fuck. What is happening. Did he bug the apartment, overhear the sleepover-bullshit talks with Ros?

It’s fascinating, clinically speaking. From what Vivienne’s heard of local gossip, especially among the secretary pool and their particular brand of romantic fantasizing, the Batman is expected to be rough. Wild. He’s supposed to fulfill all sorts of “tall, dark, and handsome” daydreams and lonely imaginings at night, along with fighting crime—what a busy guy.

So, to have him soft and insistent at her mouth, but more like asking for permission than forceful, is a fascinating gap between expectation and reality. He’s not a shabby kisser at all; the playboy types usually have something else going on that makes everyone else do the work for them, and they get to reap all the pleasure. That is apparently not the case here.

Eventually, he pulls back so they can breathe and reassess.

Vivienne looks. She really looks—his face may be mostly covered, he’s still staring, but he’s flushed, visibly steadying his breathing, and her lipstick stains his mouth in a viscerally appealing way that makes her want to lick her teeth. He’s paradoxically much more exposed than she is.

And with that, His Dark Grace is really such a pretty boy—something Vivienne has constantly lamented with Ros over for his pissy attitude. He’s perfectly amenable now, though.

“You really want this,” she says this again, her free hand coming down to pat the console between them and leaning closer.

He’s still a cheeky shit, though. “I want it,” and tilts his head again, ready to close the distance at her say-so.

She means the damn car, but— “Then you’ll have to work for it,” and she closes the distance herself.

#phd-verse #on ands #verm bits #so uh. what am i up to rn? (besides this)#still finishing my document (380+ pgs now)#i ended up running some additional experiments bc i'm insane #and i'm still waiting for the various admins in my life to fucking give me my paperwork and aehrohewohrowehofsd #and and trying to not commit homicide before i graduate :)#but back to the snippet---i hope this is some interesting insight into the whole thing

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avatar-news · 2 years

Photo

Everything we know about Avatar Studios’ first movie

It’s time for a good ol’ masterpost!

Here’s everything we here at Avatar News know about Avatar Studios’ first movie! Info that Avatar News is the exclusive source for is specified, otherwise everything is official public info from Paramount/Avatar Studios/etc.

Last updated on February 18th, 2023.

Title

The movie is currently designated “ANIMATED AANG AVATAR” in Paramount's slate, but is untitled

The Avatar franchise has been officially named “Avatar Legends” since 2022

A potential working title is Avatar The Last Airbender: Echoes and Aftershocks, based on a Paramount employee’s resume

A rumored title is Hidden Kingdom

Release

Release date: October 10th, 2025

Will be released in theaters exclusively at first, then stream on Paramount+ after

Previously estimated for 2024 internally at Paramount, but not announced publicly (source: Avatar News)

Story

Featuring “Aang and his friends”

Aang and Team Avatar will be young adults (source: Avatar News)

A movie with a Zuko-focused storyline was/is in development, it’s possible that this is that movie (source: Avatar News) - Update: The Zuko movie is separate

Brand-new original story, not an adaptation of an existing story from a comic, novel, etc.

Crew on this specific movie

Director: Lauren Montgomery (storyboard artist on ATLA, supervising producer on TLOK Books 2-4, showrunner of Voltron: Legendary Defender)

Writer: Kenneth Lin (Netflix’s House of Cards, Paramount’s Star Trek: Discovery)

Producers: Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko (showrunners of ATLA and TLOK, Chief Creative Officers of Avatar Studios), Eric Coleman (executive in charge of production of ATLA, suggested the creation of the character of Zuko in early development)

Production companies: Paramount Pictures, Nickelodeon Movies, Paramount Animation, Nickelodeon Animation Studio, Avatar Studios, Flying Bark Productions

Crew at Avatar Studios whose involvement in this specific movie, if any, we don’t know yet

Composer: Jeremy Zuckerman (composer of ATLA and TLOK)

Writer: Tim Hedrick (writer on ATLA/TLOK/VLD, showrunner of Fast & Furious: Spy Racers)

Head of story(board): Steve Ahn (storyboard artist and assistant director on TLOK)

Executive art director: Christie Tseng (character designer on TLOK)

Art director: William Niu (background designer on TLOK)

Consultant on native representation: Migizi Pensoneau (Reservation Dogs)

Many, many more crewmembers, of course.

Animation

Animation studio: Flying Bark Productions (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2018-2020), Glitch Techs (2020), Monkie Kid (2020-), Marvel Studios’ What If...? (2021), Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Movie (2022))

Animation style: traditional 2D + substantial CG

History of statements on animation style: Sep 2 2021: “series of CG films” - Brian Robbins (president and CEO of Nickelodeon and chief content officer of kids and family for Paramount+) Dec 2 2021: “outstanding and customized [...] unique production look” that “integrates [...] traditional 2D and CG” - Paramount recruiting for Avatar Studios Jun 29 2022: “our main bread and butter is 2D animation” / “homage to anime” / “[not] gonna be [...] hardcore straightedge 2D” / “start with hand-drawn, handmade artwork and then: what can technology do to help us enhance it, to help us deepen it, to help the filmmaking, to make it more cinematic” / “not [...] starting purely 3D and then trying to stylize” / “looking hard to form our own look” / “not doing anything purely 3D” - Bryan Konietzko (Avatar Studios co-Chief Creative Officer) Oct 13 2022: “2D Avatar feature film” / “couple traditional 2D animation with substantial CG elements” - Flying Bark Productions (the movie’s animation studio)

Cast

No cast info for this specific movie yet

Dante Basco is attached as Zuko, reprising his role from ATLA

A global casting call is going out for Asian and Indigenous voice actors in their 20s for Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph

Janet Varney, the voice of Korra in TLOK (2012-2014) has announced that she doesn’t want to voice Korra in the future; she wants an Indigenous voice actor to voice Korra (Korra is from the Water Tribe in the world of Avatar, which is inspired by Indigenous culture in the real world). It’s possible other voice actors will make the same choice.

Characters we know will definitely be in this movie: Aang - previously voiced as a child by Zach Tyler Eisen in ATLA (2005-2008) and as an adult by D. B. Sweeney in TLOK (2012-2013) Katara (source: Avatar News) - previously voiced as a child by Mae Whitman in ATLA (2005-2008) and as an elder by Eva Marie Saint in TLOK (2012-2014) Zuko - see above “Aang[’s] friends”

Other

Three theatrical animated movies are currently in development at Avatar Studios

Each movie has a standalone story-- they’re not a trilogy-- so the story of this movie won’t be continued in the next movie after it

The second movie is focused on Zuko (source: Avatar News)

The third movie is focused on the new earth Avatar after Aang and Korra (source: Avatar News)

The image above is official canon art of the Gaang as adults, but it’s from the lead-up to the release of The Legend of Korra in 2012, not from this upcoming movie. Fun fact: it was drawn by Joaquim Dos Santos, co-showrunner of TLOK and director of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) and Spider-Man: Beyond the Spider-Verse (2024)!

#news #movie #aang movie #masterpost

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late-to-the-fandom · 3 months

Text

Daily Writing Challenge - February 2024

Throwing myself headfirst out of the moving car that is my many-months hiatus and into the roadside ditch that is writing again, I have challenged myself to write for the @daily-writing-challenge's February prompts every day this week. The goal: remember how writing - particularly finishing a piece of writing - works. These will all be snippets from Prince Renathal and companion's continued adventures in the Dragon Isles (full stories here). Will they be any good? Probably not. But they will be done (maybe).

Day 1: Flirt - 600 words, no warnings

The saviour of Azeroth and the Shadowlands, champion of the Horde, former archmage and famous Maw Walker lay her weary body back against the sun-warmed grass and closed her eyes with a final, defeated sigh.

The Dark Prince raised one eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Not giving up already, are you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, pushing off the railing with a clunk of plate armour and descending the ancient stone staircase toward his motionless companion. “You cannot give up. I know you too well. You are incapable of accepting defeat.”

“First time for everything," was her petulant reply.

Renathal’s wordless disapproval was a masterful sound, full of throaty skepticism and dubiously clicking fangs. Elisewin refused to acknowledge it. Her eyes remained shut, limp arms drowned in the swaying grass, determinedly ignoring the vibrant butterflies fluttering curiously around her wild, windswept fan of dark hair.

Coming to a stop beside her would-be corpse, Renathal tried a different tact.

“An ignominious end for such an illustrious hero.” He announced the words like a eulogy, gesticulating elegantly to his audience of butterflies, who showed no obvious interest. “Imagine - grappling with gods, conquering whole armies, destroying any number of mountainous beasts, only to be beaten by -”

“It’s so stupid,” spat Elisewin suddenly from the ground. Her eyes snapped open in a blaze of blue-white fury. “It’s such a stupid, ridiculous test of an even more ridiculous practice, and I don’t see why I should have to learn it. I was perfectly happy with my old Undercity bat. Slow and steady. That thing -” She twisted her head to throw an accusatory glance at the proto-drake sniffing the bushes at the base of the nearby cliff. “It reacts to the slightest movement! I can’t even breathe without it changing direction. And it goes too fast!”

“I have never known you to mind fast. You usually request it,” remarked Renathal playfully.

Elisewin narrowed her eyes at him instead.

“Don’t flirt with me when I’m frustrated.”

Renathal laughed aloud at that. Mustering all her available dignity, Elisewin turned her face pointedly away from him and closed her eyes again.

“And I mean it. I’m done. I’ve tried sixteen times now, and I'm all over bruises. I am not trying it again. I’ll just walk everywhere.”

Wholly undaunted, Renathal swallowed the last of his laughter and fixed his tone into something that might have been mistaken for sympathy by someone who did not know him well.

“Very well, dearest, if you are certain." He stepped around her studiously still form and headed towards her waiting mount, calling behind him: “You can simply ride alongside me. I am happy to take the lead. I, personally, do not find the practice particularly taxing. Then again, I am much older, with a greater reservoir of power to draw from. You can hardly hold yourself to my standard."

A rustle of grass, a low groan, then a series of furious soft-soled footsteps assured Renathal this last hand had won. He turned expectantly, already holding out the proto-drake’s cracked leather reins. Elisewin snatched them from him. Her lavender glower as she swung one leg over the bulky creature's back only made Renathal smile.

“Ah,” he declared in affectionate triumph, propping himself against the rocky cliffside to watch his lover's seventeenth attempt. “That is the Maw Walker I know."

It was Elisewin’s turn to scoff. She wriggled uncomfortably, settling back into the saddle. Fixing her grim expression on the looming tower at the top of the cliff, she declared to the wilderness around them:

“I’d take the Maw over dragon riding any day.”

#daily writing challenge #wow fanfiction #dragon isles #renathal x maw walker #renathal fan fiction #prince renathal #fanfiction #world of warcraft #shadowlands #dragonflight #and there was only one dragon!#domestic fluff #elisewin #the maw walker #nightborne

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eluvisen · 3 months

Text

Truce

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3

Characters: Karlach/Tav

Rating: T

Summary: It may or may not be a mistake falling in with these lunatics, but at least they look like fun. And one of them in particular looks like fun.

(Karlach’s first night in camp, as told by her.)

Notes: Written for Femslash February 2024. Prompt: once upon a time.

—

Wreathed in smoke and infernal fire, Karlach laughs as the tollhouse burns. Gouts of fire tower on all sides, devouring everything in their path and scorching her throat with every breath. But the inferno is fucking nothing compared to the hellfire inside her. The engine shudders behind her ribs, its vibrations ribboning down her torso and all the way through her guts, so hot and furious it feels like someone poured the magma from one of Avernus’s volcanoes directly into her chest.

With several swings of her axe and a swift kick, she bashes through the debris blocking the door. But past the shower of cinders and ash, the sky is blue. The sky is blue, and when she steps outside, the air is clean.

To her surprise, that gang of adventurers are waiting around. Away from the flames, mind, but waiting.

Karlach strides over, greataxe resting on her shoulder. The metal burns, but she burns hotter. “Hope you didn’t take much of a scorching in there. I had to let off some steam after facing those imp-fuckers.”

The engine thunders in her chest, feeling like a burr made of lava that she can’t cough out. Bloody thing isn’t cooling down. Seems it isn’t made to work outside Avernus, which means she needs to find an infernal mechanic. Fast.

The rogue smiles at her without showing his teeth. “Only mild burns and the immediate threat of immolation, darling.” There’s something about him that makes her want to keep him in sight at all times, and not just for the safety of her coin purse. He isn’t infernal, she can tell that much. Maybe it’s his hair putting her off. “I don’t suppose you’ll reimburse us for spilling their guts on your behalf?”

Karlach snorts. “You didn’t kill them for me, you killed them with me. And I’m afraid I left my soul coins in Avernus. Could give you a hug if you wanted, though.”

His smile twists into something darker. “What a pity. I hear soul coins are especially valuable currency, and this isn’t a charity.”

“Strange,” says the walking fringe. She stays at the edges like a regular cleric, but there’s something… tricky about her. Yeah, that’s the word. Tricky. “I thought we were a charity. Why else would you be here, Astarion?”

Rhodeia, meanwhile, wears the perfectly pleasant expression of someone who’s mentally screaming into the Abyss. Making firm eye contact with Karlach, she says, “Since we all need a cure for these mind flayer parasites, you’re welcome to come with us.”

The rest of the party look just as loony. The githyanki undoubtedly draws eyes, and it’s a tossup whether her bloody huge greatsword or her scowl is the scarier weapon in her arsenal. Then there’s good man Gale. If he couldn’t conjure such a wicked scorching ray, she’d assume he’s a lost librarian. Or maybe libraries are more interesting places than she thought. At least the Blade of Frontiers is pointing his namesake elsewhere, although he sure doesn’t look pleased by current events. She’ll have to keep an eye on him.

All in all? A group of miserable, argumentative misfits.

Gods, to be one of them.

Karlach opens her mouth. Hesitates. “There’s no contract, is there?”

“No,” Rhodeia answers, so perfectly startled that either she means it or she could give Flo a run for her coins.

“Then fuck yes I’m in.”

Rhodeia smiles, and her expression is brilliantly, unnervingly genuine-looking. She has to be a half-elf—she’s got the ears, but her features are just a little too blunt to be a timeless beauty. Not to say she isn’t a looker, with freckles dusting her light brown skin and plump lips. In the sunlight, Karlach notices for the first time that Rhodeia’s eyes are a dusty mauve, as pretty as cut gems—definitely inherited those from the elven parent—and matching the hair falling down her back in intricate braids. Pale tattooed vines frame her face and curl invitingly down her neck to the collar of her leathers, raising the question of just how far they go down, exactly.

But that is a question best left uncontemplated for now. Karlach hangs her greataxe on her back and sweeps an arm at the road before them. “Let’s move, eh? Time’s wasting.”

When the party sets off, Karlach falls in with them. Behind her, the tollhouse burns.

[Read on AO3]

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #karlach #karlach cliffgate #bg3 karlach #karlach x tav #druid tav #rhodeia whitebloom #femslash february #femslashfeb2024 #writing

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beautyinthemoonlight1124 · 7 months

Note

Hope you are doing OK with all of this. I don't follow you on other socials. It's absolutely horrendous and so fricken messy.

I have been with my wife for 13 years. Marriage is hard but Jesus this is ugly. Not asking for your opinion. Just letting you know I thought about you. We can discuss it of you like. This whole thing makes me more sad than it probably should.

Thank you for thinking of me. I think all of us who are fans of Ali and Ashlyn are carrying a lot of pain in our hearts right now. I hope you're doing ok too. Congrats on 13 years of marriage. And you're right, it's not easy at all. It takes work. Ugh. I am not ok with any of this. I'm still stunned, to be honest. I NEVER in a million years expected Ali and Ashlyn to split up. Never. Ali has talked in interviews and on podcasts about how she waited so long to get married because she wanted to be sure it was right because she was never gonna get divorced. And now boom. Divorce. And it happened so fast! I'm just shocked by all of it. One minute Ali was leaving the sweetest message for Ash on her Snacks podcast episode for Mother's Day, and then they had Ocean's birthday party weekend with family and friends in FL in mid-July and then it all died. Not even a birthday message for Ali at the end of July. In February, Ashlyn posted that really heartfelt, romantic video she recorded at their wedding - professing her undying love for Ali. How the hell do you post that in February, then file for divorce 7 months later??? It just feels so disconnected. Like, seriously, has someone checked Ashlyn for a brain tumor that changes your personality or something? I'm only half-joking. It feels so completely out of character for Ashlyn to do this. I feel awful for all of them. I truly do. But I'm furious at Ashlyn for this. It seems like she got a little bit of freedom in her first year of retirement and lost her goddamned mind. it really does. And my heart is absolutely shattered for Ali. I just... that poor woman. She cannot catch a break. And I'm not even talking about the cheating allegations - we'll never know the truth. But Ali's Lemonade post is pretty damning and hard to debate. It felt like her flashing her wedding ring at the end of her self-care day-off video on Governor's Island video was almost like she was grieving the end of her marriage. So fucking sad. And the first thing I thought of when the divorce news came out was Ali's fear of being alone - she told us twice in different videos with Ashlyn. One was a couple's interview and the other was Kyle's video about who knows Ali best, him or Ashlyn. Ali's biggest fear in life, in her own words, was Ashlyn leaving her, or her being alone. And that's exactly what Ashlyn did to her. And I won't be over it for a very long time.

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scienceismygirlfriend · 28 days

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yeah i'm scrolling past all those new movies and tv shows all your streaming services want to get in my eyeballs so i can rewatch the fast and the furious for the 98th time. what are you gonna do about it. kiss me on the lips??

#fast and furious february

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yellowbentley · 14 days

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fuzzy and the terrible horrible fuckass testday he did NOT wantt to to but had to anyway

I DID NOT FORGET I PROMISED

reader bewarb this this shit is long may or may not be hard to follow because i talk about (my) degree jargon

ok lessgo

to begin. you need context. theres an organization (one for every country im assuming) that issues tickets stating "X CAN WELD" or else some schmuck with a helmet can walk in and work.

theres a ticket for every process in every position and then some. it was these tickets i was testing for today and i was WILDLY unprepared. it isnt the first time ive done them but i was super out of practice. they are flat, horizontal, vertical and overhead.

so cut to february, the last time we did tickets. remember when i wanted to end it all because i failed a test i spent a hundred dollars on? yeah this was one of those. i failed my horizontal so this time around i thought "i dont wanna do my fuckign horizontal cause last time i failed and i felt like shit so im gonna do my vertical instead"

what no one told meeeee was that you have to get your tickets in position order. and i KNOW i take forever and a day, hence me only doing one.

well i didnt do one. i did two. i have no idea if i passed or failed them and tbh im too scared to check because i was completely out of fucks two beads into my vertical.

but lets not get ahead of ourselves.

the test sheets had to be reprinted twice because the first go around they missed imputting someone into the system and the second time around someone got lost, and then got registered twice. great lovely. so because of this all of our test plates were wrong because we all got new assigned numbers.

we finally get our sheets we go and pay and while im in line in the bookstore to pay for my test (remember this) guess what fucking hit me. the cramps i had spent all night hoping for. at 8:30 in the morning. litterally 2 hours behind schedule. i was FURIOUS. so now i had that to deal with all day thankfully ive had worse but because they didnt arrive on time i have full permission to bitch as much as i want.

so back to the shop. i was trying to set my peremiters for my vert so i hadnt even started yet when my instrucor pokes his head into my booth and says "(tester) wants to see you" so i go and thats when i find out that you have to do the tests in order. so i tack and stamp up some new plates which was probably the least annoying part of the whole day

so i do the new plates first. welding it out goes relatively fine. it took forever to find an instructor to verify it but whatever.

AND THEN I GO TO GOUGE THE BACKING STRIP OFF.

i could not. for thee fucking life of me. unscrew the cutting tips from the oxy torches. ive seen people do it. ive done it. it is Not Hard. i used a wrench n all on all 3 tables and it would Not Come Off. so i said to hell with this and went to the carbon arc room.

carbon arc cutting is using specialized electrodes to vaporize metal. you drag it over metal and it carves into it. fast and easy.

but i of course had a hell of a time doing it like i do anything and it was Not Working. by the time i did figure out what i was doing wrong there were carbon deposits coming out the yahoo and it which are difficult to gouge through. so i had half of it very nice and the other half a melted amalgamtion of metal and didnt gouge very much off. great.

so i finish that. away i go back to my booth. to grind for the next i dont even know how long because oh my fucking god SO much grinding. im not big enough to use the 7 inch grinders so i have to use a 5 inch one which is yk what let me just show you

these are all cordless but you get the fuckin gist.

what everyone else got to use vs what i got. dying.

so i finally fucking got it flush. cut it. not a big deal. onto the second one at 1:30. i feel like i should mention that at this point everyone else has been done for like two hours.

i didnt even start welding until like 10ish so i was already 2 hours behind everyone only doing one plate. most everyone else did 2 and so did i BUT I ONLY WANTED ONE

my vertical was so bad i was way too hot and shaking and i didnt put them in in a very good order i would genuinely be surprised if it didnt snap. i needed a practice one but i had No Time so it was messy and the cap was large and my rods were sticking so i was frustrated aND OH THATS SOMETHING IM FORGETTING

some electrodes need to be baked/stored in an oven to keep moisture content low. when i ran out i went to get more and the oven was empty so ithought i'll be a good samaritan and fill it up AND I GOT THE BOX THAT SAID. 3/32ND. MATCHES THE OVEN. AND I OPENED IT. AND IT WAS THE WRONG KIND OF ELECTRODES.

and once you open these they cant be resealed they need to be either used or cooked within 4 hours.

so i started stuffing as many electrodes into the oven as i could and in my haste i sliced both my fucking hands open. i didnt even notice the cut on my right palm because the one on my left pointer finger was just gushing blood all over soaking my glove and getting over the electrodes (absolutely my fault btw i should of been wearing gloves. i deserved this one) and so i stopped and said i need to handle this. so away i went. bandaged now all good. just again. annoyed. and i still didnt have any 7018s.

i found some. eventually. fuck.

i finished my second test at idk 2:30 or maybe a bit later, begged one of the instructors to mill the back off for me because i was NOTTT doing the carbon arc/ grinding for forever again. once it was done bc time crunch i p much just got to look at and get excited over the smooth mill peices before my instructor whisked it away to grind/cut himself. which - i understand completely time crunch im slow i get it im not bothered.

and then we cleaned up. and i was talking to the tester a little bit before i left and he said "glad you paid because theyre checking who didnt hoho"

now. guys. recall at the start of the post where i said that 2 tests are a hundred bucks. and i only paid for one.

i did one of my tests for free afusdiaksoqondiakdka. he said he'd get the paperwork later and he never did 😭

then. fucking FINALLY it was 3 and i got on the bus and came home and i was so spent i had an alcoholic freezie. i dont drink.

i should of fucking stayed home.

#if you read all this i commend thee #adventures

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