#Arctic and polar regions

[cognitivejustice]

Figure 1. Indigenous populations’ distribution in the Arctic (blue circles); the AMAP Arctic boundary is shown in red Source: AMAP, Natural Earth

In popular imagination the Arctic is a harsh, dark wintery landscape, hardly the first place one associates with sunshine as a resource. Yet solar power has been increasingly taking hold above the Arctic Circle, in particular among indigenous communities with some of the strongest motivations to become energy independent and reduce the carbon emissions exacerbating climate change.

[discworldwitches]

my greatest life struggle is suppressing the urge to go to places with polar bears...

[aquilathefighter]

I am once again asking people to do the bare minimum reading to understand what fitness means in evolutionary biology

[tyrannoninja]

Explorers

This scholar-mage, who carries with her an enchanted staff that radiates heat, is leading an expedition to explore the icy wilds of the farthest north. This is more of a fantasy illustration than a historical one, of course, but I had in mind a West African (as in medieval Malian or Ghanaian) cultural flavor for these characters.

[ofleafstructure]

Illustration from The Frozen Crew Of The Ice-Bound Ship; Or, Terrors Of The Arctic Region: A Romance Of The Wild And Wonderful ("Penny Miscellany" Office, 1868). Artist unidentified.

[apocalypticdemon]

having to read an article about sound recording and music compositions based on antarctica and having to be so, so normal about it for class

i am not succeeding, i have so many thoughts

[ulkaralakbarova]

Scientists and US Air Force officials fend off a blood-thirsty alien organism while investigating at a remote arctic outpost. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Captain Patrick Hendry: Kenneth Tobey Nikki: Margaret Sheridan Dr. Arthur Carrington: Robert Cornthwaite Ned ‘Scotty’ Scott: Douglas Spencer Lt. Eddie Dykes: James Young Crew Chief Bob: Dewey Martin Lt. Ken ‘Mac’ Erickson: Robert Nichols Corporal Barnes: William Self Tex Richards: Nicholas Byron Dr. Stern: Eduard Franz Dr. Redding: George Fenneman Prof. Voorhees: Paul Frees Prof. Wilson: Everett Glass Dr. Lorenz: Norbert Schiller Prof. Ambrose: Edmund Breon Dr. Chapman: John Dierkes Mrs. Chapman: Sally Creighton ‘The Thing’: James Arness Gen. Fogarty: David McMahon Bill Stone (uncredited): Bill Neff Film Crew: Stunts: Sol Gorss Production Manager: Walter Daniels Music Director: Dimitri Tiomkin Screenplay: Charles Lederer Director of Photography: Russell Harlan Producer: Howard Hawks Art Direction: Albert S. D’Agostino Set Decoration: Darrell Silvera Sound: Clem Portman Director: Christian Nyby Stunts: Dick Crockett Hairstylist: Larry Germain Costume Designer: Michael Woulfe Editor: Roland Gross Stunts: Leslie Charles Makeup Supervisor: Lee Greenway Set Decoration: William Stevens Stunts: Tom Steele Associate Producer: Edward Lasker Stunts: Duke Taylor Stunts: Bob Morgan Art Direction: John Hughes Stunts: Ken Terrell Special Effects: Linwood G. Dunn Novel: John W. Campbell Jr. Stunts: Teddy Mangean Assistant Director: Arthur Siteman Sound: Phil Brigandi Special Effects: Donald Steward Camera Operator: Landon Arnett Stunts: Russell Saunders Special Effects Technician: Thol Simonson Stunts: Bill Lewin Movie Reviews: John Chard: There are no enemies in science, only phenomena to be studied. The Thing from Another World is set at The North Pole and finds a bunch of U.S. airmen, scientists and a journalist getting more than they bargained for when they investigate a space craft frozen in the ice. What is most striking about the film is the basic human story of team work, the pulling together of mankind during a crisis, this theme is a big shift from the short story by John W Campbell Jr. (Who Goes There?). Where that story and later John Carpenter’s wonderful remake focused on paranoia and mistrust, this film is something of the “polar” opposite (literally) as regards the group in peril. It bears all the hallmarks of producer Howard Hawks, who clearly influenced Nyby’s direction. The script, with its pros and cons of a military and scientific society, is very much of its time, blending po-faced observations with straight backed joviality. But this all works in the film’s favour and helps define it as one of the most important science fiction pictures ever made. Along with the other major sci-fi movie of 1951, “The Day the Earth Stood Still”, “TTFAW” firmly brought the visitor from outer space idea into the public conscious. But where the former film intellectualised the alien visitor, resplendent with a message of worth, the latter is about terror, pushing forward the notion that the visitor here is a monster that wants to drink our blood and attempt World domination. No major effects work is needed here because one of the pic’s highlights is only glimpsing the creature (James Arness) in little snippets, and this after we are made to wait for some time before things really kick off. This begs us to think for ourselves as regards this stalking menace, putting us firmly with this intrepid group of people, and we want to see them survive and we do care if they can or do succeed. The low end budget doesn’t hamper the atmosphere or flow, in fact Nyby, Hawks, cinematographer Russell Harlan and music maestro Dimitri Tiomkin, work wonders to ensure there’s a level of authenticity to the Arctic base and that peril is never far away. Not hindered by many of the clichés that would dominate similar themed genre pieces that followed it, film neatly taps into fears that were to become prevalent as the 1950s wore on. It may not be perf...

[atlaculture]

Cultural Calendars: Water Tribe

As we all know, the Water Tribe is primarily inspired by Inuit peoples. However, there is no one standard Inuit calendar, as their traditional timekeeping systems are inextricable from the specific areas where they live. For example, the names of their months typically take inspiration from the different life stages of animals and natural phenomenon in their particular environment. Similarly, Inuit is a language family, so the vocabulary varies quite a bit from region to region. So instead of replicating one specific Inuit group or village's calendar for the Water Tribe, I thought I'd share some interesting details and commonalities I've noticed across the calendars I've looked at; from there, you can decide what to incorporate for your Water Tribe calendar.

Seasons

Inuit/Inupiat/Yupik seasons vary between 5-8 seasons, depending on the weather cycle of the particular area. The most well documented seasonal cycles (shown above) are from Nunavut, Canada in the Inuktitut language and King Island, Alaska in the Inupiatun language. Keeping track of the seasons is vital for hunter-gatherer societies.

Years & Months

I've written about the celebration of Quviasukvik aka Arctic New Year before, so I won't go too in-depth about it. The New Year for many circumpolar people is defined by the first sunrise after the Winter Solstice, as it marks the end of the polar nights, a period when the sun remains below the horizon for multiple months. Meaning that from Katara and Sokka's point of view, Aang first met Roku on New Year's Eve. ^_^

Since the ATLAverse uses a 12-month system, I figured I would use the names that Inuit groups have assigned to the months of the Gregorian calendar. Below is a graph I made of month names (translated into English) from different Inuit, Inupiat, and Yupik regions. If you click on the underlined names, you'll get a link to the sources:

(The months called "miscarriage" are in reference to February and March bring common months for seal miscarriages.)

Based off this research, here are the month names I came up with for the Water Tribe:

I didn't want to choose a specific dialect group, so I just went with English "translations". I tried to make the meanings clear, while also giving the months names that sound like month names (to an English-fluent ear).

Days of the Week

The unit of time known as a "week" wasn't really relevant to arctic peoples as they primarily tracked time based on the seasons and lunar cycles, as that's what's most important to a hunter-gatherer lifestyle. As such, I think the Water Tribes just adopted the "international" days of weeks that I mentioned here. East-day, North-day, West-day, South-day, and Center-day would be their day names; whether they'd take a break on Center-day would depend on the month/season they were in.

[bunjywunjy]

Would an albino polar bear struggle to survive in the wild? I mean...it's already white anyway

unfortunately since albinism removes protective melanin from the iris, the poor bear would probably go sun blind really quickly.

albino animals (and people!) have very light-sensitive eyes, and can suffer sun damage from just normal exposure!

and here's the thing- the screaming white hell that is the arctic in full sun would deliver enough glare to do permanent damage in a relatively short time. there's a reason that every human society that developed in the arctic regions invented their own version of sunglasses!

so, yeah. the unfortunate bear probably would not reach adulthood.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Habitats

Coniferous forest - Vast areas of Scandinavia, Russia, Alaska, and Canada are the site of coniferous forests—home to moose, beavers, and wolves.

Mountain - High mountain ranges have arctic climates near the peaks, where few plants grow. Animals must cope in dangerous terrain.

Savanna - These tropical grasslands with wet and dry seasons support huge herds of grazing animals and powerful predators.

Polar ice - The ice that forms on cold oceans is a refuge for animals that hunt in the water. The continental ice sheets are almost lifeless.

Tropical rainforest - The evergreen forests that grow near the equator are the richest of all biomes, with a huge diversity of plant and animal life.

Desert - Some deserts are barren rock and sand, but many support a range of plants and animals adapted to survive the dry conditions.

Tundra - These regions on the fringes of polar ice sheets thaw out in summer and attract animals such as reindeer and nesting birds.

Mediterranean - Dry scrub regions, such as around the Mediterranean, are home to a rich insect life and drought-resistant shrubs and plants.

Temperate grassland - The dry, grassy prairies with hot summers and cold winters, support grazing herds such as antelope and bison.

Deciduous forest - In cool, moist regions, many trees grow fast in summer but lose their leaves in winter. The wildlife here changes with the seasons.

Animals, plants, and all living things are adapted to life in their natural surroundings. These environments are called habitats.

Every living species on Earth has its own favored habitat, which it shares with others. These different species interact with each other and with their natural environment—be it hot or cold, wet or dry—to create a web of life called an ecosystem.

Some ecosystems are very small, but others such as rainforests or deserts cover huge areas. These are called biomes.

Life on Land

Different climates create different types of habitats for life on land. Warm, wet places grow lush forests, for example, while hot, dry regions develop deserts. Each biome consists of many smaller habitats and, in many areas, human activity such as farming has completely changed their character.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Worldbuilding

[amnhnyc]

Found in the polar Arctic regions of North America, Europe, and Asia, the Arctic fox (Vulpes lagopus) is perfectly equipped for life below zero. This carnivore reduces its exposure to winter weather through a variety of adaptations, including compact body size, small ears, and short limbs. But the Arctic fox is also a seasonal fashionista. During winter, this species sports a dense coat of white fur that helps insulate it from the cold. Did you know? It can withstand temperatures of up to −90°F (-67.8°C). By comparison, frostbite can affect humans at temperatures below 31°F (-0.6°C)!

Photo: Jonathen Pie, CC0 1.0, Wikimedia Commons

[naffeclipse]

Packmates

Reader x Orca!Eclipse

Commission Info

This is such a delightful little fic requested by @counterbalance involving Orca!Eclipse having a little heart-to-heart with Michael and Vanessa with, of course, Y/N overseeing it! It's very cathartic and sweet to see all of these characters talk to each other after everything that has happened. I hope you enjoy!

———

Spring in the Arctic is frigid. No flowers bloom along the frozen land. Sea smoke sends pale wisps into the rosy pink dawn light. Jutting mounts of hills and ice jag the landscape as you slip closer and closer to the edge of the snow-dotted ocean. 

You tuck your scarlet wool scarf tighter around your throat. Goggles and a hood protect your face and eyes from the wicked air so cold, it brandishes itself like a knife against exposed skin. 

The darkness of a blistering cold night in the polar region lifts away, and the sweet, soft light of a new, short day begins. Slowly, the days will get longer and longer, until there is only the hint of dusk before it brightens all over again. You marvel at the sunlight on the glittering frozen ground. The way it refracts upon the tips of waves as the ocean churns slowly in its below-zero temperature state. 

All of this is no matter to an orca siren. Eclipse has never been cold. Only alone.

That will change.

You trek across the plain with company. It’s taken you a few days to prepare Eclipse to meet your packmates as he refers to them properly. He’s not wrong. Michael and Vanessa form your little tightly knit group, forged by comradery from first being stuck in such a stark landscape in a tiny base, to then enduring the mysterious uncertainty of sirens and the lingering presence of those who hunted them. 

They tried to protect you and you protected them. On your left, Michael’s head is on a swivel. He strains his neck as he peers down into the deep and dark indigo waters as if he might spy Eclipse before he’s ready to emerge. His gloved hands clench, held in front of him as if a harpoon might materialize and drop into his waiting palms. The fur of his dark gray parka is red, pushed by the slight breeze as if he were an Arctic fox roaming, briskly attempting to keep away from a much larger threat.

Vanessa walks so close to you on your other side that her shoulder repeatedly brushes against your own with the thick scratch of durable fabric from your Arctic gear echoing. Her face repeatedly turns to you. A black aviator hat protects her head from the fierce cold, the white fur along the flops of her head attire serving to keep her safe and warm. She anxiously moves her arms. You wonder if she intends to hug you or drag you back to base—either way, she seems to want to grab onto you tightly, as if you might fall through the thick ice now. 

They have their reasons to fear, but it’s alright now. Eclipse isn’t going to hurt anyone.

Seeing is believing, it seems, as you lead them towards the icy coast. The water reveals a deeper teal hue to its soft waves and lapping against the edge of the sea as the sun glares across the horizon. You squint against the brightness. Holding up a hand to help shield your gaze, you search the salty edge of the ocean.

Eclipse said he would meet them. He said he wants to know your packmates better.

“Stay here,” you say softly.

Michael’s shoulders become rigid. His eyes, verdant and almost wild, like a creature about to snap with its fangs, follow you in anticipation.

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

You turn back, smiling despite how well your Arctic gear covers you up. 

“I am. It’s okay, Michael.” In a firmer tone, you remind, “You said you would give him a chance.”

Inhaling deeply, he dips his chin once. “I did. But he’s still a siren.”

“And you’re a human who had a harpoon.” You face him, no longer shrinking in his presence. There are no more secrets, no more reasons to protect each other from the truth. You love Eclipse. That should be enough for Michael but it’s going to take a little more time.

But he’ll see.

“We don’t have them now,” Vanessa says. She crosses her arms in what might have been a pout but her gloved hands grip herself anxiously. “It—He can still sing.”

“He won’t. He promised me he wouldn’t.” You have to ask much of them, and winter isn’t enough time for change, but it’ll have to do. “Trust me.”

They can now. Michael and Vanessa glance at each other, reassuring and perhaps, reinspired by the other. 

You nod gratefully and turn back to the water. You kneel at its edge, searching for a tell-tale sign of a sharp dorsal fin or burning red flukes. He shouldn’t be bold—at least more than is excessive for him. You took great care to explain to him how wary Michael and Vanessa might be and that he needs to be on his best behavior. He promised but the way he held you close in an embrace left a grain of doubt in your mind.

In the distant dark teal of the Arctic Ocean, you spy the beautiful, red-tipped dorsal fin of an orca siren. Eclipse. He swims slowly, approaching in the way a shark might curiously regard fresh bait while it’s not currently hungry. You wait. In the corner of your vision, Michael and Vanessa tense. You remain, hands on your legs, inhaling the frost-bitten scent of the wind before the dorsal fin dips below.

Right before you, where ice meets water, Eclipse emerges dripping wet, maw wide open in a grin. His eyes burn through the chilled landscape. One yellow and one red eye greet you with a radiant wonder. His expression softens. Your heart warms as he reaches for you, black-tipped claws dripping wet.

“Happy day, birdie,” he singsongs in a low rumble of harmonics. 

His hands brush your gloved palms, and you hear a strange rush of steps behind you. Eclipse’s eyes narrow. He latches onto your wrists just as arms encircle you from behind, one over your shoulder, and another around your waist, and a breathless sound of panic touches the back of your hood. You look down to find the off-white garb of Vanessa’s Arctic gear clinging to you, her gloves twisting deeply into your coat.

“Vanessa,” Michael says, his tone unreadable. He steps closer just as Eclipse growls.

“It’s okay,” you pipe up over everyone. “We’re fine, everyone’s fine.”

Tensions soar as you slowly turn your head back to find Vanessa wide-eyed and breathless. Her gaze is locked onto Eclipse. A rumble on the threat of a snarl vibrates through Eclipse’s chest. Vanessa holds you tighter.

“Eclipse, will you let go of me?” You level him with a pointed stare. “I want to introduce you to my packmates.”

Eclipse’s teeth flash. His array of head frills, flaring in dark oranges and deep reds, cut through the blues and whites of the Arctic in his agitation. 

“Eclipse,” you say softly, “Let me go. Just for a moment.”

His gaze drops back to you. You are firm, and unyielding as he lowers his shoulders. A softness returns to his feature. Though he appears pained to release your wrists, his claws slip away. 

Vanessa’s death grip upon you loosens in the slightest.

“Vanessa, this is Eclipse.” You pat her arms once. “He’s not taking me anyway. You can stop grabbing me now.”

She drags in a ragged breath. She slowly blinks, her green eyes returning to a more sensible state as she at last withdraws her arms from around you. You pat her arm again. Yet, she sits close beside you, trembling with anticipation. 

Gently, you gesture towards her, “Eclipse, this is my packmate, Vanessa.”

He tilts his head. Hiding his teeth, he smiles. “Hello.”

A stare follows from Vanessa, caught somewhere before wariness and the strangeness of an orca siren speaking to her. Was she expecting a monstrous grable to leave his lips or perhaps a wicked song? 

“Hi.” she finally decides. She glances at you in confusion for a moment. 

Oh, right. Packmate. You’ll explain that later.

“Eclipse,” you then hold your hand out beyond Vanessa to Michael. He still stands on his feet, unwilling or unable to join you guys on the ice that the orca siren leans his arms against. “This is Michael.”

Eclipse’s eyes sharpen as if the tip of an icicle. He lifts his hand. Michael tenses, his fists balling into fists.

“You are the child of the human who took away my pod, my family,” his deep voice is abysmal with the accusations. “I thought you would be worse.”

Michael turns hard as stone. Tension laces his jaw as he clenches tightly. Your heart skips a beat, glancing sharply between the two.

Eclipse snarls. “Your father killed my mother.”

“Sirens are dangerous,” Michael retorts, his shoulders braced for an impact that you refuse to see.

“Eclipse, you said you would be good to my pack,” you say sharply. You reach out and touch the back of Eclipse’s slick, sheeny hand.

He pauses, his eyes flashing to you. His claws quickly curl around your wrist. 

“I am,” he says, but he lowers his voice. 

Vanessa tenses, her hand reaching to hook around the crook of your arm. Desperation fills you to the brim.

“Please, there’s been enough fighting and hatred.” You look between all three of them. “You all have suffered, haven’t you?”

You steely hold Michael’s gaze. His expression morphs between molten rage and seething hatred before melting into something less bitter. You turn on Eclipse. His expression is sharp, edged with rime and fangs. You squeeze his hand. He glances down at your small gloved fingers in his palm. Slowly, he breathes out a huff of misty air. When you turn to Vanessa, her head is already bowed. Her grip upon your arm is no longer a means to keep you close, but to anchor herself.

“My sister,” Michael says, then stops. He struggles for a moment before looking at Eclipse—truly looking at Eclipse for the first time. “My sister is gone because of my father.”

The beginnings of a snarl pulling over his teeth stop. Eclipse’s grip around your hand becomes gentle. A low sound of sympathy escapes him in a warble.

“Afton let my mother be taken by a siren.” Vanessa’s voice is so small, you almost don’t catch it. “He sacrificed her for the sake of his studies.”

Her fingers dig into your coat. You wish you had another hand so you might comfort her. 

Eclipse looks at your other packmate, much more gentle as he leans closer as if to console her. Then, for a moment, he’s pierced with a strange expression. He leans away. His hand slips out of yours as he clenches his hands. His claws rake over the ice.

“Did the siren take your mother as a mate?”

Vanessa’s head lifts. Her mouth contorts as if her very muscles are paralyzed before she says gravelly, “I think so.”

Eclipse’s gaze falls over you. A memory of a time of being stolen away, held underwater, and forced to swim leaves you with a chill. Eclipse, however, slowly inches his hand back to you, open and waiting, and you accept it again. His shiny black and white markings are still sea salt-slick. He whistles a soft sound.

“It is wicked to force your will upon another,” his voice is low, repentant. 

Michael and Vanessa share equal expressions of scrutiny and wonder. Perhaps you merely imagine the first shine of acceptance in their eyes, but it’s a start.

Visibly, they relax. Vanessa still holds to your elbow but her fingers are no longer hooking around you in the hope of keeping you from being reeled out. Gradually, Michael lowers himself onto one knee. He rests his arm on his leg and loses the tautness in his body. 

You hold tight to Eclipse’s fingers. You wish you could close the distance. It’s been a few days since you’ve returned to the Arctic and spent time with Eclipse, but you still yearn for more of him. It was a long and cold winter without your siren. 

Perhaps humans and sirens don’t have to stay enemies. Perhaps the past can die with the generation who couldn’t stop fighting. Maybe you all can be better, and happier.

“Eclipse, will you tell Vanessa what you told me before?” you nudge. You think it will sound better coming from a siren than from you. 

Straightening, Vanessa glances quizzically at you, then Eclipse as a few water droplets fall from his frills.

“Your mother may be alive.” He turns towards the sea without releasing your hand. “She may be out there. I can help find her if that is something you wish.”

A ripple of shock crosses your friend’s expression. Of course, you and Michael promised to help search for her mother now that she understood what may have become of her. This is one of your motivations for returning to the Arctic. Vanessa is almost speechless. You have never seen her emotional before, but you wonder if she may weep. Is she happy or angry that a siren would offer such a thing to her? Knowing what happened to her mother?

“You know where she is?” she asks.

“No,” Eclipse corrects promptly, “but I can aid in your search. I know these waters. I have swam them all my life. If she is here, I can locate her.”

She glances at you, her eyes shining. You smile reassuringly. Slowly, she turns to Michael. His expression is firm and difficult to read, but he gives a slight nod. 

This might not end up how you wish it would, but it’s something. It’s hope—a possible answer after never having her mother all of her life. You wonder what kind of tail her mother could possess, and shiver as you glance down to your legs covered in thick Arctic gear.

“I—Yes,” Vanessa says at last. She faces Eclipse. “I would owe you everything if you helped me find her.”

A wide grin splits the crescent marking of his face. Just below the water and beyond the edge of ice you sit upon, his tail snaps to one side.

“No need. I want nothing more than what I have.” He squeezes your hands. His claws carefully brush over the fabric of your gloves as your heart swells with pride. 

You face him. Gently tugging yourself free of Vanessa’s grip, her hold loosens and she lets you go, her hand hanging in the air while you close the distance between you and Eclipse. His arms open gladly. You enter his embrace. A spark of shyness flies through you, never having an audience before to witness the affection between you and the orca siren.

Eclipse makes you forget all else as he hums soothingly. He nuzzles softly along your hood, pushing your goggles up to touch the heat of your skin. You close your eyes. He squanders not the opportunity to press a slick kiss to one eyelid, then the other. You breathe softly.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him.

“I thought you would know there is no need to thank me,” he rumbles with mirth, “but I still enjoy it.”

You pull back and touch his cheek. He leans into it before you remember who is present. You turn back to Michael and Vanessa and bashfully ask where they should start looking first.

[terrorcamp]

We’re thrilled to announce that Terror Camp is back for a fourth year!

On December 7 & 8, 2024, we’ll be journeying to the polar regions once more over Zoom. Submissions for presentations on Arctic and Antarctic topics across both days are now open until September 1.

Along with individual presentations, we’re also looking for group roundtable submissions and posters, plus a brand new category: the workshop!

For more details and instructions on how to submit, see our CFA.

Artists’ Alley submissions will open in a few weeks, including new opportunities to submit merch designs for our Redbubble instead of opening a store—so if you’re an artist with something to sell or have design ideas, hang tight!

We’re so excited to hear your ideas and read your proposals, and we can’t wait to set sail with you again in December! ⚓✨

xoxo Terror Camp Command