something something extremely sexy when magic users resort to physical violence. yeah i have the power of god and anime on my side but i also have THESE HANDS. i cast Punch You In The Face. i take my magic staff through which i channel the vast energies of the elements and the cosmos and i cast Severe Concussion And Skull Fracture. casting time for xenoglossy too long, chose the quicker route of Stab You In The Throat.
My favorite category of government program to run across is "program you've never heard of doing extremely important work to solve a major problem which you have also never heard of." On that note, the US drops millions of pounds of sterile bugs over Panama each week in order to prevent a parasite infestation from moving into North America. Everyone say thank you to the Panama-United States Commission for the Eradication and Prevention of the Cattle Borer Worm (COPEG)
This program had its funding cut during the DOGE cuts last year and now the parasitic worm they were trying to slow the spread of has officially arrived in the United States.
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Flesh-eating screwworm returns to U.S. after 60 years, threatening cattle herd
The case of New World screwworm was confirmed in a 3-week-old calf in La Pryor, Texas, near the U.S.-Mexico border, Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins said.
The case of New World screwworm was confirmed in a 3-week-old calf in La Pryor, Texas, near the U.S.-Mexico border, Agriculture Secretary Br
given the current climate this pride especially i feel i must mention that i love my trans friends, i stand with trans people in the fight against transphobic legislation and those who would enforce it, and this blog is not a good place for you to be if you do not vibe with that
Here's the thing I keep trying to articulate and possibly failing: I don't actually mind characters who are terrible people. I have enjoyed many. What I mind is characters who are terrible people while the narrative keeps trying to say that they are wonderful, often contradicting what the narrative shows us, with no self awareness
It was a new restaurant in Long Beach, nearby the Aquarium of the Pacific.
Siren Cove.
It featured large aquariums throughout — saltwater fish of every color and size swimming in slow, hypnotic circuits. The water cast swaying lines of reflected light across the venue, which was kept dim aside from moody accent lighting meant to emulate a cove.
He was seated in a large booth next to the biggest tank in the middle of the restaurant. It was a tube, and the fish swarmed in circles and schools, around and around and around. Chad wondered if they ever got bored.
Alice was seated next to him. The rest of the Z-team filled out the booth, with the overflow claimed by the table beside them.
It was Chad's birthday.
He couldn't focus on the menu. He wasn’t hungry.
"I can't believe Mecha Bitch got called into work," Chad said.
"Don't be too hard on him, Bae." Alice leaned on her hand. "I bet he feels like shit for it."
"He fucking better." Chad sighed. Then he steeled himself. The team had taken him out for his birthday. He wasn't going to be a fucking sourpuss over something Robert couldn't control.
The waitress — dressed as a pirate — came by and took their orders while they all caught up on the calls that had happened that day.
The lights around the cove began to shift. Moodier. Darker. Then the music changed, something more adventurous swelling up, an eerie chorus of voices rising beyond the notes.
The restaurant murmured around them as the lights dropped even lower. The sounds of crashing waves and a thunderstorm rolled through the speakers.
This is some Rainforest Cafe bullshit. Chad smirked to himself and sipped his drink.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice called over the intercom. "The siren song comes for us all. Can you resist the call?"
Chad looked at the tanks around the room. One by one, mermaid performers dropped into them, drifting down through the water, the shifting light catching eerily on their faces. The tails looked real enough, and they had prosthetic scales framing their faces and strategic scale-like pasties keeping them from being fully topless.
Several Z-team members looked around. Victor couldn't keep his mouth closed. Herm curled further into himself as a mermaid waved to him from across the room.
The rest stared at Chad expectantly. A few with their phones pointed at him to record.
"What?" he asked over his cocktail.
Malevola tilted her head to the side.
Chad looked at the tank next to him.
He choked on his drink.
It was Robert. Blue tail, blue scales framing his face, naked from the waist up. Hollywood-quality fins adhered to his forearms, mermaid-like ears at the sides of his head. He smiled devilishly at Chad, canines glinting — deep-blue lined eyes dark and dangerous even through the glass.
He was a fuckin' siren. For his birthday.
Chad's face broke into a grin. He laughed, a little nervously. "What the fuck, Bob Bob."
The team laughed. Alice pulled him into a tight hug. "Happy birthday, Bae."
Chad couldn't drag his eyes away as Robert winked at him and pushed off the glass, languidly flipping through the water, bubbles trailing behind him. Chad was transfixed, drink still held halfway to his mouth.
Alice took it from his hand and set it back on the table.
"What’d you think? You forgive him?"
Chad said nothing.
He watched his muscles ripple as he moved. The economy of Robert’s body normally used for fighting was now for something soft and graceful.
The scars caught the light the way the tank walls did. Refracted. Shifting. Made into something else. In here they looked like tide marks. Like he'd been shaped by water instead of violence.
He was the only merman among the performers, and the extra attention showed. More people had their heads turned to his tank, eyes tracking him as he moved. Chad noticed. He didn't love it.
Robert blew a kiss at him. Several patrons laughed and whistled.
Chad wanted to climb to the top of the tank, reach in and drag him out and back to their bed.
But Chad would behave. He had to.
Robert continued swimming around the tank, visiting the other surrounding tables. Occasionally he dipped down to breathe from the air tube, then surfaced again and blew bubbles. A gaggle of women hollered and whooped as he did so. A few had their phones out, and Chad had to consciously quell the heat rising in his hands.
Robert made his way back to Chad and stayed, pressing his palm flat against the glass — webbed, Chad noticed. Chad pressed his own hand against it and heard a few laughs around them.
He didn't care.
Robert leaned down, still holding Chad's gaze, and produced a small board from behind a boulder with writing on it.
Happy birthday, Bitch!
Chad laughed.
He wondered if they could steal the tail from the venue after.
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