Science fiction isn’t just thinking about the world out there. It’s also thinking about how that world might be—a particularly important exercise for those who are oppressed, because if they’re going to change the world we live in, they—and all of us—have to be able to think about a world that works differently.
Leaving Rurikton, Adri remembered that she needed to get treats for the beasties again. After stopping at Andre’s, she chose to head home across the palace gardens rather than taking the long way around. For once, there was still a lot of gossip running after the Ministry’s open session. Several bits caught her excellent hearing, especially those about Lux’s outburst regarding a possible murder attempt. She started meandering a bit, making sure to overhear as much as possible of that gossip while additional details were to be learned.
‘Vanguard ‘Ospital, eh?’ she mused to herself. ‘Feed Percy on the way, then – an’ change out o’ this dress an’ ‘eels into some’at wi’ protection, not to mention more sheaths.’ From there, she stalked off to the Salma district, stopping only briefly at the Valenwright home, emerging in her working leathers and cutting over walls and rooftops to get to the hospital in short order.
After a quick look around, she cloaked herself in shadows and slipped inside, fading back into visibility as she turned up the stairs. She saw an armed woman in high-quality clothing seeming to be standing watch. A closer look as she neared confirmed the watchfulness and the social standing. Good thing she ain’t been needed for real yet, though, even if’n that blade do look used. She shoulda been seeing me by now.
The auburn-haired noblewoman turned green eyes upon the raven-haired woman approaching her, and her hands flexed lightly. ‘Do you need help, ma’am?’ Her intonations managed to make that less than inviting without being insulting.
The smaller woman raised her gaze, deep blue eyes meeting hers, and she stopped her preternaturally quiet movement without even the hint of a scuff. ‘I’s ‘ere to watch over Lady Luna.’
The Ascalonian’s eyes narrowed as she heard that lowest of working-class accents, but she had to give grudging respect to the way the response was a challenge in its inexorable phrasing without being objectionable in its tone. ‘Her brother and I are watching over her.’
Adri canted her head slightly. ‘Lord Lauriston be back in town? Tha’s good to ‘ear – I ain’ seen ‘im in far too long.’ She shrugged a little, the motion hard to discern through the thick greatcoat. ‘Still, wi’ all due respect, m’lady,’ and with no warning at all she was no longer there, but behind the noblewoman, a knife across her throat and another at her left kidney, her right leg pressing into her in such a way as to keep the taller woman from being able to twist away safely. ‘I ‘ears ‘er ‘eart beatin’ ahind us, an’ you got the chin, so I reckons you’s a proper relative an’ tha’ she don’ need guardin’ from you. But if’n she’d needed guardin’ from me, m’lady, you never woulda knowed I were ‘ere.’
With that knife at her throat, the Ascalonian didn’t dare try nodding. ‘You have made your point, madame.’ She was briefly relieved when the knife pressure remained constant despite the use of her voice, then she swallowed involuntarily at the realisation of what it meant, which was confirmed when the knife moved with that motion of her throat as well. This gutter-snipe was anticipating her with unnerving accuracy.
‘Thank y’, m’lady.’ The taller woman nearly stumbled at the sudden removal of Adri’s presence at her back. ‘I’s sorry to ‘ave to presen’ credentials in such a way, but you wasn’ gonna believe mere words – an’ tha’ be to y’ credit, m’lady, an’ it ain’ no complaint.’
The noblewoman turned to look at where the other woman was now standing – next to Luna’s bed, though facing outward, her knives still out of their sheathes, but held in the defensive posture, blades along the forearms. Something seemed off about the weapons, even aside from the one that was fairly dripping with shadow magic, much as the girl – no, young woman, she decided – was herself. ‘I suppose you’re right about that.’
‘Thank you, m’lady. Anyways, I’s Captain Magister Adriwyn, though mos’ jus’ calls me Adri, an’ them ranks ain’ why I’s ‘ere. I’s ‘ere ‘cause I’s swore to the protection o’ the Rurikton Roses, an’ now tha’ I’s finally ‘eard abou’ Lady Luna’s situation, I’s ‘ere for tha’ duty. Even if’n Lux gives me a dressin’ down f’ introducin’ m’self the way I’s done, I’s purty sure she ain’ goin’ relieve me.’
A slight nod answered those words while the Ascalonian considered them. She finally realised that the issue with the knives being off was a mesmeric enchantment that made them hard to look at too well. The woman’s leathers were of exceptional quality, as well, and bore the crest of a noble house. Sadly, her knowledge of such crests was lacking when it came to the Krytan nobility. Still, for all her clear gutter-snipe origins, the young woman had risen above them in all but her speech, and she certainly knew the right names to drop. ‘Very well. And I am Lady Lorelei Larkspur.’
Adri recognised the implied warning in the Lady’s response. Still, it only came across to her as “do not cross me again,” which was better than she’d been expecting. ‘Thank y’, m’lady. An’ I’s sorry I din’ ‘ave no callin’ card identifyin’ me tha’ way, so’s we coulda avoided the … unpleasan’ness o’ needin’ a demonstration.’
Lorelei’s response was a dry chuckle and an amiable nod. ‘That would have been rather more pleasant, yes.’ Her brow rose involuntarily as she saw the younger woman make a curtsey with her lower body while somehow never being off-centre, and with her weapons still at the ready. No, she did not want to cross blades with this Adriwyn, nor did she want even the experienced soldiers she knew to try it. Her brow lowered again as she answered the curtsey with the head-bow of a noble to a favoured common underling.
Adri smiled wryly. ‘Anyways, Lady Lorelei, while I gotta stand by m’ duty, I ain’ tryin’ to run y’ off. No’ that I’d blame y’ for wantin’ not to endure m’ company any longer’n y’ needs, neither.’
A dry chuckle. ‘I have been alternating with Laurie for a while, and I could use the rest. I suppose I shall leave her under your capable care, and retire for the evening.’
‘As y’ likes, m’lady. Safe travels, eh? I can’ be in two places at once, no matter ‘ow good I is.’ Another dry chuckle came in response, and they exchanged another curtsey and partial nod, then Lorelei turned and departed. Adri settled in to watch – mostly to listen, finally allowing her worry over Lunaira to show.
Me: *waiting for drink in Starbucks*
Me: *putting on makeup*
Guy: You know nice guys don’t like when girls wear so much makeup.
Me: *without looking up* Nice guys like you?
Guy: Well, yea.
Me: Have you ever considered that’s why we wear it?
Girl behind me: *spits out coffee laughing*
Guy: Um.
Me: *deadpan look* Nice girls like me don’t give a fuck what you like.
You know what? Okay. You ask a question, you’re going to damn well get a serious answer. You want to learn about spider farts, punk? You’re going to learn. You’re going to learn a lot more than you bargained for.
Arthropods obviously have very different digestive systems than vertebrates do, and spider digestive systems are unique even for arthropods. All but one species of spider are strictly predatory, and they take advantage of this diet by actually performing most of their digestion outside the body. Their formidable-looking fangs act like hypodermic needles to inject venom that immobilizes their prey. They then spit a cocktail of enzymes into the holes their fangs have created with their mouths (the venom and digestive enzymes are produced in different parts of the spider’s body!). These enzymes act like the ones in our saliva and stomach: they begin to break down the meat. It just happens to still be on the inside of the prey’s skin.
Some spider species, rather than keep everything neatly contained, just tear their prey apart and spit the enzymes onto the pieces. To each his own.
Once the prey’s insides have become a pre-digested slurry (and yeah, the prey is usually dead by this point), the spider slurps it up. This is actually a part of a larger process of spitting and slurping until everything is sufficiently broken down; hairs around the spider’s mouth block particles that are too large from being ingested. This is because the spider’s internal digestive system is shit and can’t handle anything but a liquid diet.
The spider’s stomach is actually a specialized sucking organ (called, appropriately, a ‘sucking stomach’) that flexes in order to facilitate all that slurping and spitting. It’s basically a muscular pump.
The spider digestive tract up to the sucking stomach is actually lined with cuticle- the analogue to our external skin. If having regular skin growing through your mouth and down to your stomach sounds odd, at least you don’t have to shed yours in one large piece. When spiders shed their exoskeletons, they actually have to shed the interior of their sucking stomach, too, and they pull this cuticle out through their brains. You cannot make this shit up.
While spiders don’t have much in the way of internal digestion hardware, they do have excellent storage units. These would be the caeca, located in the midgut past the sucking stomach. Since the spider doesn’t have space taken up by digestive organs, the caeca have a lot more room and even extend down some pairs of legs and even up towards the eyes in some species. Some species can even expand their caeca thanks to their soft abdominal cuticles- most arthropods have hardened exoskeletons and would explode if their organs expanded. So now you know why spider species are soft compared to other arthropods!
This storage capacity means that spiders can generally go a long time without eating, and when they do strike a big windfall, they can store much more than other arthropods could.
So now you know all about spider digestion- except for the end part. Even spiders have to poop. As you can see on the above diagram, they have an anus. Once the spider has extracted all it can get from its prey, the remains move from the caeca to the stercoral sac, which does what our colon does: it compacts and dehydrates everything into poop. And then the spider poops.
Spider poop is actually rather similar to bird poop- it’s usually whitish and semiliquid. This is due to the fact that it is full of concentrated uric acid. (Those of you familiar with the study of poop in all its forms will infer from this that spiders do not, in fact, pee.)
Spider poop, ladies and gentlemen.
Back to the original question: do spiders fart? And how will all that information about the spider’s digestive system (while quite fascinating) help you understand it? The answers are maybe and it really won’t. We fart because the bacteria in our colons produce air during the fermentation of our food. The actual smell comes from volatile sulfur compounds, including hydrogen sulfide, which make up less than one percent of the released gas. So 99% of the gas released when you fart doesn’t smell.
Spiders, too, have bacteria involved in fermentation in their stercoral sac, though they are very different bacteria than ours. But theoretically, that means that gas is probably produced as a byproduct of that fermentation. Though I don’t know of any recordings of spider farts out there.
I hope that answers your goddamn question, spider fart anon.
I had no idea there was a proper term for the corporeal manifestation of the deity with the multiple personality disorder, and cannibalism and vampirism in its rituals!
Adriellyn's Wandering Home 