#Doctoring Machine Manufacturers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multiplicationdivision · 5 months

Text

Abott Inc.

The manufacturing plant was abuzz with Tony Abott

Two of him handled a repair on the bottom floor, replacing a slipped wheel in record time. Another watched, ready to jump into motion at any evidence of a problem. Six others manned the quality checks, spouting off curses and shooting the shit as their muscle memory handled all the heavy lifting of searching for faults. Two were out to get lunch, carrying in tow the same burger order for a factory’s worth of the same exact man.

Only the forewoman was unique, a beautiful buff woman who acted to make sure that their unified state of mind never got them in trouble. She kept them out of trouble just as a single Tony kept the factory full of identical copies of her safe in turn.

It was good being Tony.

Years of education in all manners of factory positions, skill in any task that this facility could need. A physique built by an equal time training practically, nothing gained from the gym. Each muscle was built for practicality and each of him could handle a world of weight just on his own.

This body had once been a man named Braedon. He’d been college educated in computer sciences, a prodigy of his field. He could code anything given a couple hours alone, so long as he had coffee and some good junk food. He was set for a comfy corporate throne after a few years on the bottom, rising high and fast.

It had been boring.

Years of brutal education gave way to months spent in bureaucracy, unable to complete a task that would’ve taken minutes without weeks of back and forth with incompetent bosses. Emails that took longer to write than the quick line of code that would fix the issue.

Braedon loved the feeling of a job well done. Reclining back as the circuits ran perfectly and the tasks played out like a line of dominos falling one after one.

Corporate was like watching every step of his Rube Goldberg machine get interrupted by a whiney man in a suit named Todd or Larry. Made Braedon want to scream and tear down his perfectly built systems just so he could be the one to fuck it up.

The factory had been his life line.

It had been a simple invoice. A practical job that promised everything he could ask for. No boss criticizing his work at every step, chipping away at his confidence. No choking atmosphere to his work, watched by a hundred people in the building that thought their business degrees gave them insight on system design. Way more money than he ever thought possible for a blue-collar job. More than he was making at the moment in his bland yet expensive cubical.

There was a catch.

Braedon had no experience in anything outside of the digital world. He’d traded his body and health in exchange for his degrees. One couldn’t become as specialized as him without sacrificing the self-care that was so important in the labor required of a factory worker.

The factory knew that, but they had an easy fix.

Tony Abott had interviewed him. The singular original Tony Abott.

He was a prodigy in his own right. The industry wet dream. Ruggedly attractive and overly competent. Charismatic and eager to please.

He’d been honest with Braedon from the start. They had their hands in some strange technology and they needed even stranger candidates. Each selected for their unique physiologies and mental states that would make them perfect for their shared role.

Tony said that he’d been selected for his flexible sense of self and pathological loneliness. He’d been like Braedon, giving up his social life so he could be the best of the best. Was left hollow when he reached that height and started depersonalizing without staring himself in a mirror to remember that he existed.

Braedon had been selected after being profiled as similarly lost. Doctor’s notes demanding he eat anything that wasn’t processed. Caffeine and cigarettes letting him keep up with hundreds of email arguments over a simple fucking project. The gut twisting feeling of watching what that abuse did to his body, stealing away whatever youth was left and replacing it with something tired and boney. The hunger to be anything except for Braedon, who never wanted to be understood by another person as the gaping pit of rage and self-disgust that had taken root in his heart.

They were a match for each other and Braedon hadn’t cared for whatever physiological horror a happier person might see in this deal.

He’d quit his shitty corporate hell the next day and made his goodbyes to whatever people passed for tolerable in those minimalist nightmare hallways. Wished them good luck breathing recirculated air-conditioned smog as he got ready to breath real fucking air.

He’d arrived at his second “interview” a week later, having spent the last days wrapping up affairs and communicating with the labor board. The factory wasn’t doing anything shady and the government had needed to setup Braedon’s paperwork for his new life. Little benefits and tax write off as reward for joining the latest and greatest of industrial innovation. That alongside the mountain of appointments they’d needed to make for new identification as his old ID photos wouldn’t identify him for shit in the following day.

Tony had joined him for this “interview”. Dressed to his best in a soft dress shirt and new jeans. Boots barely broken into and a new watch. A professional shave and tussled hair atop a cap, branded with the company logo. A shining example compared to the loose clothes Braedon had been told to wear, making him look anything but a put together future coworker.

A second set of Tony’s exact outfit lay next to the door, atop a shoebox and a fancy new duplicate watch.

They’d made a toast to brotherhood, those two lonely men. Tony had supplied his favorite beer, cheap piss Budweiser. It went down watery and flat, nothing like the vodka tonics Braedon felt most suited to when he was in an alcoholic mood. The slight burn of it travelled down his throat, soothing yet peppery. It brought a head high like nothing else, feeling as if the golden liquid had flowed into his brain and body before it could even reach his stomach.

Alcohol didn’t feel like this, but this wasn’t exactly Alcohol.

Tony had tried to explain whatever biochemical cocktail was laced into the drink. It was all for the sake of complete transparency, they weren’t in the business of trickery. Something to do with forced recombination and stem cells. Braedon was a highly intelligent man, but there was a reason he’d never dipped into biology. Tony seemed the same, rattling off a scripted explanation that he had probably practiced time and time again to look like he understood what he was saying.

Braedon sipped his beer as Tony attempted small talk. They were very different people. Tony seemed awkward as if he felt judged by every little glance that Braedon gave him. Braedon was used to analyzing a person by now, searching for faults that he could use to his advantage. Braedon had been the kindest person at his old workplace but that had been a low bar and he had still become cruel. Braedon could see every way that Tony felt insecure around anyone but himself, as if he didn’t have every tool at his command to be a juggernaut.

The ichor in the drink flowed through Braedon’s neurons and there was a memory. A kid who wasn’t him being criticized at every turn for jobs he’d sworn he’d done correctly. Credit taken from a pre-teen for perfect machines that could cut production times by half. The same instances over and over, leaving a man desperately trying to prove himself to a system that would use him and give the patent to his boss. That despair and betrayal settled comfortably in the spaces of Braedon’s own memories.

Braedon grit his teeth in subtle rage. His jawline had broadened and his face itched and it felt good in some odd way. Matched that swelling feeling of righteous anger.

The ichor altered how Tony fit in his brain. The insecurity became more and more relatable with every swallow. A memory of the guy’s only partner calling him pathetic, using every shitty doubt Tony had confided to wicked abandon. The breakup replayed in the man’s mind like nothing else, a cacophony of how he was weak and annoying and awful in every way.

Braedon wanted to punch that piece of shit and laugh in their face. Braedon knew to heart what human garbage was and Tony was anything but. Braedon could feel the waves of Tony’s insecurity reach through his mind and falter in the wake of Braedon’s own memories. Braedon wished he could have someone like Tony, over eager to be romantic and prepare for anniversaries. Wished he could inject his own point of view on the guy’s memory of his part love and how jealous and narcissistic they actually were.

The Budweiser began to taste good. Braedon could remember the first time they’d drunk it. A trade school kid picking up the cheapest shit at the gas station on their twenty first, drinking as he carved away at a block of wood deep into the night. The carbonation had made the swill all the more comforting, a bitter spot against the peace of his work station. It tasted like shit, but the good type of shit. Fit him and his sweaty downtime, relaxing as he sculpted pine and oak into art.

At some point their conversation stopped being awkward. The words flowed better and better as Braedon felt understanding coating his mind. Nervous jokes became relatable and the nasty feeling that had sat at home in Braedon’s chest for so long felt like it was shrinking. He found himself chuckling at the stories Tony explained, remembering them in tandem with fresh eyes.

The times Tony had nearly burned down any number of mills and processing facilities. The rampant animals that added chaos to his life, including amongst their diversity a very confused bear and a unfortunately horny moose.

Braedon was crying with laughter as he and Tony pieced together how he’d pranked an old shitty supervisor. Braedon could practically hear that supervisor’s rage as his computer downloaded virus after virus, prompted by a helpful little auto-clicker that Tony had installed one late night after another unpaid bout of overtime.

Tony physically unwound as their conversation went on and the number of empty beer bottles increased. He no longer looked stiff in his new clothes, rather his relaxed muscles filled them out comfortably. His confidence changed him, his smile lighting up the room and his mood infectious.

Braedon hadn’t been gay before this, but a shift in his sexuality had been a part of the deal. Tony’s basic information had been open to him and a little pansexuality felt like a pretty good upgrade to Tony’s own deal.

Braedon could remember all the times Tony had felt wrong in the mirror melding into one. Picking apart himself for looking too old, too awkward and too fake. It was all insane of course, as Braedon could easily dissect. Braedon felt his own mind guide that fragment of Tony in his mind to see what he saw, forcing it to witness Braedon’s own perspective instead of that toxic mindset downloaded into the guy since his father had disowned him.

Braedon could feel all his own shit get digested into the well of personality inside his head. Not destroyed exactly, but reorganized. His own insecurities broken down by the logic of Tony Abott as the logic of Braedon Santoro did the same in turn. Fast tracking therapy with only a couple bottles of booze.

He could feel his own memories of coding alone slot next to Tony’s life of construction. The things that made Tony burned brighter in his mind compared to his own pieces, but they were never devoured. Braedon felt himself begin to lurk behind the soul of the man in front of him, but it wasn’t anything like a mask.

The deal hadn’t been to bury Braedon beneath Tony. Braeden would still be there but the man that Tony was would predominate. Tony would trade him his individuality in exchange for this new self. Braeden would give up his old life in exchange for an equal claim to this new identity.

Braeden became Tony, from inside out as the beer coated his tongue like cold nectar. Felt himself become saturated with the man, siphoning every bit of his personality into his soul, feeling the ichor in his blood tremble as it changed the body to fit the mind.

His scrawny body filled with density, calories from the beer being more than efficiently transformed into muscle fibers and sturdy bones. The tar in his lungs dwindled and he breathed clearly. Tony had never smoked a single day in his life and the man that was once Braeden savored the feeling. Savored the experience of having lived a life with more than microwaved meals, even if that life had its own many faults.

The loose clothing filled, his sweatshirt and sweatpants becoming oversized. He’d taken his shoes off prior to his first drink to Tony’s recommendation. Tony had larger feet than him as well as larger everything. Even his pants fit differently, filled much differently than they were before.

It was strange to no longer identify with a name, but he couldn’t think of himself anymore as Braeden. It didn’t fit anymore, supplanted by the name of the man in front of him. It wasn’t just that man’s name anymore, they shared it now.

They needed to share more than that.

Interviews should never go where they took it, but interviews rarely meddled with identity on such a scale. Tony had more understanding for the man in front of him than anyone else and the call to act on it was irresistible.

It happened when the man that was once Braeden began to strip his clothes off, forgoing the last thing that differentiated him from the other. They’d planned to don him in matching clothes and continue their conversation with the last of the prescripted beers. Head to the facility’s temporary doctor to confirm a success.

Tony had joked that he’d only felt this comfortable with another man once. The new Tony had replied that he knew and the part of Braeden permanently at his core flirted. Some charged comment that made them both blush, something about how it would be easier for them to match if Tony just took off his clothes.

They’d been awkward in it, because how couldn’t someone be awkward masturbating like that. A whole other body added to the scheme, even if that body was one you’d always known. They’d forgotten to remove the clothes of the first Tony entirely, so caught up in the feeling of that lockstep of their shared bodies working as one. Whatever was done would be mimicked in turn, a duet in symmetrical motion.

They’d finished together and the awkwardness dissolved. Both no longer held back by the fear of judgment from the other, when they functioned like two parts of the same being.

They’d gotten dressed together, tying their boots up and pulling their shirts on. An entirely new outfit that both Tonys reveled in without the presence of strangers making them second guess it. The one that was still Braeden in memory could feel the twist of amusement at their preening, his heart racing as he looked at his new twin. Braeden had never strongly cared for his appearance, but the sensation of feeling good in his new boots and new jeans was exhilarating compared to the apathy of before.

They’d headed to the doctor together, excitement in every step. With a clean bill of health and permission to continue on with the next man the following day, they were a force of nature.

One became two. Two prepared for three to become one. Three identical men lining up identification and licenses for a factory’s worth of them. Buying clothes in mass to handle a platoon of them.

The first Tony became lost in the crowd and it felt good. Most people weren’t cut out to spread their sense of self across so many. Tony seemed built for it, the pressure of being the best dulled to nothing as he became part of the best. Seeing numerous of himselves discover their identity as a group in their work and downtime. Using the memories of the men they once were to build upon what it meant to be Tony Abott.

They’d bring all kinds of folks home and show them what it was like to be with them. Give the few a taste of a whole world of confidence built through reinforcement. Strings became strong when wrapped into a rope and they were a realized person together.

Tony Abott, operating Abott Inc. Alone yet definitely not.

Pictures taken from Construction Bros series by GymDreams on Deviantart.

#identical #copy #clones #male shapeshift #shapeshift #male tf #male transformation #personality change #my writing #selfcest #muscle tf #muscle transformation #mental change

137 notes · View notes

dizzymoods · 4 months

Text

People are starting to ask the question "Are we replicating colonial violence by sharing images of Palestinian martyrdom."

This is a question borne out of the decolonize movement which in practice restates the neoliberal, pro-capital status quo in radical language.

This question not only fails to employ the basic principles of media literacy but also fails an understanding of national liberation movements. It's an unnecessary and dangerous question.

We have a 56 year history of Palestinians using images as part of national liberation. 55 years of an international standard for the use of images in national liberation movements (Third Cinema).

When we hold these images to those standards, we don't even need to ask that question. It's been answered for us already. The answer is no. In the context of national liberation, images are supposed to shock the consciousness of the people. These images did that.

What didn't happen is that we didn't do the necessary and effective work of organizing those who have come to support the Palestinian cause into affecting a ceasefire. That is not the image's fault. That is an indictment of our organizing.

The principle point of Third Cinema is that the image is a detonator. It is a spring board for direct action. An excuse to gather people. Third Cinema is not delusional. It knows that only such action can stop colonialism.

The question that needs to be asked is one of tactics.These images would not still be circulating if there was a ceasefire. And the Palestinians have told us this time and again.

This is why that question is dangerous. Because we can circle the drain all day talking about the epistemic violence of the camera, the camera as an a priori, always already, in perpetuity, ontological white supremacy machine.

The question asks us to investigate our individual consumptive habits. Not what can be done to materially support the Palestinians. You can answer that question without engaging with the history of Palestinian political images. Without reference to the directives the Palestinians have given us on the ground. With no knowledge of politics.

The Palestinians are creating, sharing, contextualizing these images. The Israelis are cutting hasbara to discredit these images. In no way can these images replicate the violence of colonialism bc the colonized are producing them and the colonizer is trying to stop their circulation. In fact, by asking this question we invite people to do the work of the colonizer by stopping the circulation of these images. We proudly delude ourselves into thinking that we are helping the Palestinians when we are materially aiding the israelis.

The AnsarAllah showed us what to do politically. Stop the weapons manufactures and stop the shipment of arms. They took over the red sea by hijacking only 3 ships. Evergreen & BP stopped using the red sea after that.

Last tuesday America and ~10 other countries declared that they would retake the red sea. But by that friday, the mission collapsed before it started.

And, quiet as kept, we knew Biden and congress would not yield to mass demonstrations. We spent the last decade doing mass demonstrations to stop police violence but the only action that lead to a guilty verdict (which did not stop the violence) was the burning down of a police precinct.

If it is true what Fanon says about violence yielding to a greater show of violence, and that is the level of violence necessary to put one cop behind bars then.... 🤷🏾‍♂️

But, ironically, this question does replicate the very violence that it attempts to not engage in.

The Palestinians who take photos of Palestinian martyrs are the same photographers who take images of Palestinian life and the resilient spirit of the Palestinian people. Palestinian kids playing in bombed out ruble, Palestinians sharing scraps of food with others who have none, doctors "adopting" children whose families israel killed, Palestinians dancing. Why aren't these images worthy of our anxiety? I mean they condemn us to hell, don't they? "We are alive! Please keep us this way" and everyday there isn't a ceasefire is a day we fail them.

Why aren't the images of the al-Qassam brigades wiping out israeli encampments in minutes worthy of discourse?

Why does this question exceptionalize the image of a helpless, pitiful weak, dead people? Is that not how the colonizer sees the colonized? Is this not the same hubris israel had by ignoring all signs of Al Asqa Flood for a year and a half?

If we understand the principles of montage, then we know the images of Palestinian martyrdom do not mean anything outside of the context of the other images coming out of Gaza. And taken as a whole, the images lead to the same conclusion as our political analysis. The Palestinians have the ground. It's israel's air power that allows it to commit this genocide. We must stop that air power by any means necessary.

Decolonize wants you to think, not act. It wants you to forget about the socialist history of national liberation movements. Lenin put anti-imperialism at the heart of the socialist project in 1916. Every single anti-colonial, national liberation movement was either spearheaded by or had the necessary participation of Marxists. The practitioners of Third Cinema made reference to socialism and many had party affiliations with socialist movements.

Decolonize, like critical theory, is explicitly anticommunist. It doesn't want us to engage in real socialist politics which directly oppose and break from this neoliberal hellscape. Instead it channels our anger into a discursive, metaphysical effigy that we can sacrifice so we can sleep at night. But tomorrow will be 85 days and 75 years of the Palestinian genocide.

edit: changed houtis, a colonial designation, to their proper name the AnsarAllah.

64 notes · View notes

a-dinosaur-a-day · 10 months

Text

What follows is a retelling of the Jurassic Park story, mainly based on the 1993 film, with portions of the original novel used to supplement the story. The main point of divergence occurs when the park is unable to find workable nonavian dinosaur genetic material for cloning, since - as in the real world - dna degrades much too rapidly. Instead, the park consists only of extinct dinosaurs that can be brought back - birds from the last 2.5 million years. What happens after that is, as Ian Malcolm would say, an emerging pattern.

Infinite thanks to beta readers @killdeercheer, @otussketching, and @plokool! And extra thanks to @i-draws-dinosaurs for the killer logo!

Link to the masterpost of chapters

Chapter Two: Egg Mountain, United States

“Doctor Sattler! Doctor Grant! We’re ready to try again!”

Ellie stood up from the dirt in front of her, brushing off the sand from her shorts and looking around for the source of the call. Alan took a longer time to get up, looking grumpy and befuddled at the interruption.

“I hate computers,” Grant muttered.

Ellie wanted to laugh, but she managed to keep it in. Computers felt like something from a separate world – a cleaner one, a manufactured one. Out here, in the badlands, surrounded by mountains and dust and old bones, computers were alien. But they had one.

And it had quickly become Alan’s archnemesis.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Ellie joked, smirking at him as he shook his head in bemusement. The two walked down the side of the mountain towards the equipment, including a large lead slug dispenser (aka Thumper) and a portable computer covered in dust and dirt. The computer ran the computer-assisted sonic tomography (CAST) program – Thumper would send a lead slug into the ground, which would generate waves, allowing for the computer to get an idea of the layout of the ground around the slug. The computer would then, theoretically, show a reading of any fossils detected by the sonic waves. Usually, the best it could do was show the approximate location of a fossil – which saved significant amounts of time on digging. But, with repeated readings, sometimes a more detailed outline could be found. That detailed outline was then helpful for digging in the right location – and preserving that location from further environmental damage.

As they reached the bottom of the valley, the students activated Thumper, causing a loud boom to resonate through the mountains. Alan made a beeline for the computer monitor to read the info, while Ellie meandered behind him across the dirt.

“Hey Dr. Sattler!” one grad student shouted. She waved back at her with a smile. There weren’t a lot of women on the dig site, so each one supported the others as much as they could.

By the time she reached the monitor, the image from Thumper was finally loading on this screen.

“This new program’s incredible,” another grad student, a man this time, said, “Few more years development and we won’t even have to dig anymore!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Alan scoffed, causing the gathering crowd around the screen to laugh with him.

“It’s... a little distorted, but I don’t think it’s the computer,” the student continued, typing away to try and manipulate the image’s presentation. Ellie could see right away, however, that the skeleton was in the right pose. She walked up to the screen and pointed, from a distance, at the tell-tale characteristics.

“Post-mortem contraction of the posterior neck ligaments... Deinonychus?”

“Yes, and it’s in good shape, too,” Alan confirmed, walking closer to the screen himself, “Five, six feet long, I’m guessing nine feet tall. Look at the –“

Suddenly, Alan’s touching of the monitor made everything go fuzzy.

“What’d you do?” Alan asked the student angrily.

“He touched it,” Ellie laughed, patting the student comfortingly on the shoulder, “Dr. Grant’s not machine compatible.”

“Hell, they’ve got it in for me,” Alan grumbled, before composing himself, “And look at the half-moon shaped bones in the wrists. It’s no wonder these guys learned how to fly!”

Everyone laughed around him. While birds being living dinosaurs was a fairly widely accepted hypothesis in the field, it still drew some chuckles – especially from the unaware.

“No, seriously!” Alan said, turning around to look at everyone, his educator face completely taking over the irritation face he had previously, “Dinosaurs have more in common with present-day birds than they do with reptiles. Look at the pubic bone, turned backward, just like a bird... look at the vertebrae, filled with air sacs and hollows just like a bird... and even the word Raptor means, ‘Bird of Prey’.”

“That doesn’t look very scary,” scoffed one of the children on the dig, an annoying little boy who was constantly complaining about the connections between living birds and their extinct dinosaur relatives, “More like a six foot turkey!”

Alan lost his educator face, and Ellie found herself smirking at the sheer irritation he had for an expression instead.

“Have you met a turkey, kid?” Alan asked.

“Oh no,” Ellie muttered, but she wasn’t about to stop him. Alan had been patient with the kid for weeks, and his time was up.

“Um, at Thanksgiving,” the kid responded.

“Okay. So, to begin with, a turkey is already nearly six foot – they can grow up to four,” Alan stated, smirking, “Then, when you are just alone in the woods – or, you think you’re alone – with no one around, guess what is the last thing you want to hear?”

“Um, turkeys?”

“The distant sound of many turkeys coming right in your direction. You see, turkeys – they aren’t predators. So they know at any time they could be on the receiving end of a horrible, horrible attack. And so they, like all prey animals over a certain size, will defend themselves to the death. More human deaths are caused by the vegetarian hippopotamus each year than by sharks or any other predator. And turkeys? They have that ferocity, too.”

The kid did not have a response to that.

“Some might peck you. That has a nasty sting. Others may just run at you, flashing their feathers, making loud sounds. Enough to set your teeth on edge. And then there are the kickers. Nowhere more than the feet can you see how birds are just dinosaurs among us,” Alan let out a snort, “Those claws, that force, it is enough to break bones and other organs.”

Alan stepped up closer to the boy, getting right in his face. Ellie watched, moderately mesmerized, too much so to intervene.

“Just one, a human alone could not deal with. But on your own, surrounded by who knows how many? You would wish it was a Deinonychus, kid. A Deinonychus eventually gets full.”

The boy visibly gulped in front of everyone, who was dead silent. No laughs emerged from a single person.

“So, you know. Try to show a little respect.”

“Okay,” the kid said, nodding. Alan nodded in response, and turned to walk away.

The child’s mother ran forward to him, while Ellie followed after Alan, shaking her head in bemusement.

“If you wanted to scare the kid you could have pulled a gun on him, you know,” Ellie snorted.

“Yeah, I know,” Alan sighed, “Kids. You want to have one of those?”

Ellie laughed, gesturing behind her, “I don’t want that kid, but, a breed of child, Alan, could be intriguing.”

“Ha!”

“I mean, what’s so wrong with kids?”

“Look, they get in the way. I mean, I never thought I’d date anyone, before I met you,” Alan said, “It never interested me.”

“You just wanted to find the bones,” Ellie laughed, shaking her head.

“I just wanted to find the bones! But one person is enough for me. More, and this time I’m responsible for their well-being? For what kind of person they turn into? Nah.”

“You didn’t think you’d like dating me, and you did!” Ellie countered, jabbing him lightly in the arm.

“Cause you’re the only person who understands me,” Alan scoffed, “Besides. You don’t smell.”

“What? Kids don’t smell, either!”

“Some of them smell!” Alan insisted, “Babies smell!”

The whirring of a helicopter cut off their conversation, and both immediately ran down to the site to cover up the new find, shouting for tarps to drape over the rocks and exposed bones. Alan sprinted to the helicopter, while Ellie ran down to the site, covering it quickly with the help of the volunteers and students.

“Get it down – yes – secure the corner – don’t let it be exposed! Even this amount of wind from the helicopter could erode away important information! Yes, get that side down, too!” Ellie barked at everyone, directing people to properly place down the tarp. Satisfied the specimen was secure, she quickly ran towards the trailer, where she had just seen Alan disappear into.

“Alright!” Ellie shouted, opening up the door, “Who’s the jerk?”

“Uh, this is our, paleobotanist, Doctor –“

“Sattler,” Ellie filled in, frowning. In the room was an older man, with a white beard and glasses, wearing a beige hat. Ellie didn’t have a moment to ask before Alan continued,

“Ellie, this is Mr. Hammond.”

Ellie felt her mouth drop open in shock.

“I’m sorry about the dramatic entrance, Dr. Sattler, but...”

“Did I say ‘jerk’?” Ellie laughed, grimacing.

“We’re in a wee bit of a hurry, here. Will you have a drink? We don’t want to let it warm, come along, sit down, sit down.”

It was weird, how he managed to make the space his own, just by virtue of having paid for it, even though it was Ellie’s and Alan’s. Ellie tried to take control, reaching for glasses in the sink, as he protested. Before she knew it, she was sitting at a table.

“Now, I’ll wait a minute, because I have a surprise for you!” Hammond laughed. Conveniently, the door opened at that moment, and a tall dark skinned woman entered the room, her hair done in dreads, a grin spreading across her face.

“Guess who’s baaack!” the woman sang, beaming at Alan and Ellie.

“Miri!” Ellie shouted.

“Miri!” Alan said in unison. Miri laughed and ran to hug Ellie, shaking Alan’s hand eagerly afterwards.

“Mr. Hammond picked me up on the way over here, I’ve been a consultant on his project for the past year down at my dig – I have so much to tell you, when was the last time we saw each other?” Miri said rapidly, laughing at the shocked looks on Ellie and Alan’s faces.

“Last SVP, I think!” Ellie responded, “Oh it’s so good to see you! Are they treating you well down in Florida?”

“As well as can be expected for Florida!” Miri laughed, “But we just found a new Titanis skeleton, and since Pierce passed I’m in charge of the dig site!”

“I was so sorry to have heard of his passing, Miri,” Alan said, “You’re more than capable to take over for him, but so soon after you graduated from here –“

“The man lived in a hoarder house, Alan,” Miri snorted, “A literal hoarder house. Besides that, I was brought on the team because he knew he needed a good replacement. Regardless, I’m here now.”

“And good thing, too!” Dr. Hammond laughed, “Your former mentor would never have been able to come alone on our little trip, Dr. Spinoza!”

“About that, as I was saying in the helicopter, you’re never going to get Alan to –“

“Never going to get Alan to what?” Alan asked, affronted. Ellie snorted, making him glare at her for a moment.

“I’ll get right to the point!” Hammond chortled, clearly delighted by the proceedings, “I like you. Both of you. I can tell instantly about people, it’s a gift. Could tell I liked you, could tell I liked Miri. Now,” Hammond took a deep breath, beaming, “I own an island. Off the coast of Costa Rica. I’ve leased it from the government and spent the last five years setting up a kind of biological preserve. You remember the consultancy you did for me at the time?”

“Yes, but after a point you said we were no longer needed for that?” Alan asked in confusion.

“Which is when he reached out to me,” Miri said, nodding.

“Well, the island is really spectacular. Spared no expense. Make the one I‘ve got down in Kenya look like a petting zoo. And there’s no doubt, our attractions will drive kids out of their minds.”

“And what are those?” Alan asked sarcastically. Miri snorted.

“Small versions of adults, honey,” Ellie laughed.

“And not just kids, everyone! We’re going to open next year, that is if the lawyers don’t kill me first. I don’t care for lawyers, do you...?”

“Oh we... uh...” Ellie began.

“Don’t really know any,” Alan and Miri finished with him in unison.

“Well I do, I’m afraid. There’s a particular pebble in my shoe who represents my investors. Says they insist on ‘outside opinions.’”

“What kind of opinions?” Ellie asked.

“Well, your kind, Dr. Sattler and Dr. Grant, not to put too fine a point on it. And Dr. Spinoza’s too. I mean, let’s face it – in your particular fields, you’re the top minds! And if I could just persuade you to sign off on the park, you know give it your endorsement, maybe even pen a wee testimonial, I could get back on schedule!”

“Is the work I’ve been doing for you not enough of a testimonial?” Miri laughed.

“Well, they want you to see the place, get a feel for it, as it were. They want an expert’s eyes on the whole proceedings.”

“But why would they care what we think?” Dr. Sattler asked.

“With your expertise from paleobotany and paleoecology, Dr. Spinoza’s in behavior, and Alan’s in anatomy, you have the best handle on what sort of problems we may deal with in the park –“

“What kind of park is this?” Alan asked, frowning in confusion.

“It’s right up your alley,” Hammond laughed, handing the three of them drinks.

“Please come down, you two, with Dr. Spinoza and I, for the weekend. I’d love to have both of your opinions on the project. We have a jet standing by at Choteau,” Hammond pleaded.

“I basically had no choice, since he’s sponsoring the dig,” Miri sighed.

“Well, look, we just dug up a new skeleton –“ Alan began.

“And I will compensate you, as well, by fully funding your dig...”

“This is a very unusual time,” Alan continued.

“For a further three years,” Hammond finished.

“Well.. uh...” Ellie stammered, “Where’s the plane?”

“Yeah, okay, okay!” Alan shouted, clinking his glass with Hammond and turning around to Ellie in excitement. Both shouted happily and hugged each other, spinning around the room.

“Three more years!”

“We can get the entire raptor nesting site!”

“Three more years!”

Hammond chortled happily, as the pair reached to grab bags from under the table and pack them.

Soon, they would be off to Costa Rica.

#jurassic park #jurassic park au #jurassic park: it's ironic #palaeoblr #dinosaurs #birds #the birdcage

168 notes · View notes

bestjeanistmonster · 5 months

Text

With Dc au Sonic i wanted the theme nature vs machine to be demonstrated on an emotional level

He had lived in Gotham his entire life and Gotham isn’t exactly a safe nor healthy place to live cuz of all the crime, chaos and rampant pollution from factories that the citizens have to breathe in daily

Plant life in Gotham suffers heavily because of this too, healthy plants aren’t really commonplace

Nicky hated the pollution in the city with a burning passion but after Eggman brainwashed him, he saw the pollution of the city as not that bad of a thing and sees it as a sacrifice for scientific advancement, Doctor Eggman’s scientific advancement to be specific

Working with Eggman meant being exposed to the worst of the pollution with his constant manufacturing of robot henchmen and chemical experiments with Joker venom on the daily, it isn’t good for Sonic by any sort of means (mentally and physically) but he doesn’t really care about that, just about helping the doctor in any way he can

But then he meets Shadow, poison ivy, a hedgehog who can literally control nature, is part of nature and he starts benefitting from being around him both physically and mentally, Shadow’s lair supplies the cleanest oxygen that Sonic has ever breathed in, he can be his own person when he’s with Shadow, etc.

With Eggman and his machinery he gets more hurt but with Shadow and his connection to nature he starts to heal

Idk i just thought it was cool and wanted to talk about it

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #jeanist thinks #sonadow harlivy au #sonic au #sth au

75 notes · View notes

pinkestlittlebutterfly · 3 months

Text

Servamp hospital AU with no plot only vibes but I do the rest of the cast too so everyone can suffer:

Iduna – Clinical engineer. Though her responsibilities are mostly limited to testing, maintaining and occasionally doing small repairs on the medical equipment, she always looks at the machines in her care like she’s itching to do more. She’s vastly overqualified for her position, but left what would be any other engineer’s dream job at a well-known medical manufacturer to take it, for unknown reasons.

Freya – The resident pharmacist. She wouldn’t usually have much contact with patients, but sometimes exasperated nurses will ask her to explain how some patient’s medication works to them, counting on her fierce glare to hammer the message home. She’s precise in her work but not opposed to chaos, as evident by how much time she spends watching Iduna come up with creative ways to test the surgery robots.

Licht – Paramedic, stoic in even the most stressful situations. Though one wouldn’t think of him as good with people, the confidence he has in everything he does is a pillar of comfort to those he treats as well as his team. Some people think he developed a bit of a complex, saving people’s lives on a daily basis, but Hyde assures them he’s always been like that. He rarely starts fights (with those who aren't Hyde) but will end them.

Hyde – Paramedic. Whether he’s well-suited for his profession is up for debate, as stress makes him act out easily when in the wrong mood. He put himself on a team with Licht, and for a long time any emergency doctor made to work with them would groan at the thought of their squabbling. Recently they have gotten along better, and Hyde’s stress tolerance seems to have improved.

Niccolo – Emergency doctor, originally an internist. Though he spends most of his time looking like he’ll fall apart at even the suggestion of stress, he changes completely once in an actual life-or-death situation and will easily take charge of his team. He’s happy in his job, and it’s a step up from working in the hospital itself, which was the actual cause of his stress.

Ildio – ER nurse. Though he seems to be a perfect fit for his job – fiercely caring but looking rough enough to nip any problematic behaviour in the bud – it’s actually just what he first fell into when completing his training. Recently the emergency doctor he spends his breaks with has encouraged him to find something he actually enjoys doing, and he has been looking to become a NICU nurse.

Krantz – Professional translator, working wherever a bridge between the staff and one of their patients needs to be built, and is thus always busy. No one knows how many languages he actually speaks. His most impressive achievement in bridge-building is getting paramedics Licht and Hyde to form a somewhat cohesive unit, to a point where their long-suffering ambulance driver has him on speed dial.

Johannes – Haematologist. He is obsessed with his work and spends a decidedly unhealthy amount of hours in the lab, living off strange concoctions presumably containing lots of caffeine and lots of sugar. Though he's not supposed to collect his samples himself, he does so with great joy. Few of the studies he proposes make it past the ethics committee.

Gear – Lab tech. The quiet world of the lab suits him, and he’s well adapted to the traditions and mindsets of those who live within it, though they tend to come off as bizarre to others. He spends his downtime scouring catalogues for the latest lab equipment, and sometimes brings some of it home to decorate the house with. His husband Youtarou seems strangely okay with this.

Youtarou – Social media manager. Most people think of his job as useless, but he thinks it's important for patients and even more so potential recruits to have a friendly face to associate the hospital with. His favourite part of the job is working with Iduna, who in turn loves the opportunity to make the surgery robots do something funny for a cute video.

#servamp #so many characters again #originally johannes was supposed to be a pharmacist #but tumblr user fraiifraii reminded me phlebotomists exist #and i thus wanted someone to work with blood because it’s fun #but i also don't think anyone would hire johannes to do the blood taking #he's not qualified for that #maybe i'll change youtarou to some kind of doctor or social worker #but i loved the thought of him and iduna getting up to silly things #like peeling a blueberry with the surgery robot #112 servamp

35 notes · View notes

the-white-void · 1 year

Text

A benevolent and kind God that rules over Teyvat was treated as if they were the most fragile of all the glass made in the world but what if that same god was also mischievous enough for their followers to not notice them

Diluc

The manufacturer of the grandest wine in Mondstat and the mysterious Dark Knight Hero known as Diluc Ragenvinder but also a loyal follower of their Grace

Their grace looked upon the red-head and smirked at their plan to tag along his day tomorrow, they turned into a tiny mouse and hid under his coat waiting for the next day to come

When it was dawn you were still cozying in the young Ragenvinder’s coat while he was already awake ready to start the day

you were unnoticed the entire time in his coat as he went on his day until he reached into his pocket for some change but he grabbed you

He was shocked to find a mouse inside his pocket he dropped you on the ground and the impact from the drop caused you to transform back to a human form

Diluc was traumatized from the realization that he basically dropped his god from his hands

You tried to calm him down while Venti, Kaeya and Rosaria were drop dead laughing their asses off drunk until Jean walked by them wonder what happened

You explain what happened and that you weren’t really injured at all and it was just an accident

“DILUC DROPPED YOUR GRACE?!!”

“Don’t worry I wasn’t hurt”

“I dropped their grace from my own two hands”

It took until morning for them to all calm down

Ei/Raiden Shogun

The Electro Archon meditated within her euthymia while her machine dealt with the mortal realm in her stead

That was until you came for a visit

The Shogun was ecstatic that you would bless her nation with your presence

You were given a room in Tenshukaku to rest from your journey and along with the room had a fancy fluffy white carpet

Your neuron activation said to sleep on it instead of your fancy bed

So you turned into a fluffy white cat and slept on it with your belly exposed meaning you felt safe

After some time Ei went to check if you needed anything and when she opened the doors to your chambers

She saw the white fluffy carpet in the middle of the room and decided to kick to the side so no casualties could happen

Bad decision

When she kicked the carpet she kicked you along with it and you flung to the side and you transformed back to a human form

Caught off guard of what she did she yelled for the most experienced doctors to your aid while you were whining on the pain you were in

THEIR GRACE NEEDS HELP, DOCTORS IMMEDIATELY!!

She was ashamed that you blessed her with your visit and she kicked you

Klee

Klee was a fun kid, bright and joyful, you needed some of that every now and then

So you played with her today

You went to get her from the Favonius headquarters to go fish blasting

But you saw her running down all the stairs from the fountain near Good hunters

She said she wanted to meet you early so you won’t have to wait her her

She was so kind and so pure, this was exactly why you wanted to play with her and maybe you should do it more often

You ran to the lake behind the city and started fish blasting

You decided to turn into a dog and teach Klee to swim

“Hey Klee, if you want I can teach you how to swim to day”

“Yaaay, Y/n is going to teach Klee to swim today” she said while holding her Jumpty Dumpty

She ran toward you but she tripped and her Jumpty Dumpty flew all the way to your face

It exploded a big kaboom

It alerted Jean to see if it was Klee fish blasting again but when she got there she saw Klee crying waterfalls

“Klee what’s wrong”

“Jumpty Dumpty accidentally hit their grace”

You were fished out and Klee was in solitary confinement for a week

#genshin sagau #sagau #sagau isekai #sagau idea #sagau fluff #klee #raiden shogun #diluc #klee x reader #genshin impact raiden #raiden shogun x reader #diluc x reader

187 notes · View notes