#CO2-Preis

[my-life-fm]

[politikwatch]

16,2 Millionen #Arme fragen, wie sie das alles noch bezahlen sollen? Das sind keine #Glod-#scheißenden-#Esel!

Bundesregierung erwägt eine #stärkere #Erhöhung des #CO2-#Preises. Eine #Einfamilienhaus, das mit 20.000kWh Gas im Jahr heize, müsse jährlich mit 74,10 Euro #Mehrkosten rechnen. Habe man jedoch eine #Öl-#Heizung und verbrauche rund 1800 Liter zum Wärmen, koste dies dann 87,21 Euro #mehr im Jahr.

[newnlovesjennie]

the strawhats, what song i associate with them, and why pt.1

pt 1 includes usopp and sanji!

usopp

the archer by taylor swift

obvious connotations of him being a sniper and the song being titled “the archer” aside,

the song is about insecurities and anxieties, specifically with relationships with others, which i feel encapsulates a lot of usopps struggles

“i’ve been the archer/i’ve been the prey/who could ever leave me, darling/but who could stay?”

usopp loves putting on a fake bravado on being the ultimate sniper leader of 2000 men etc but in reality its all a front, for someone from a relatively civilian background (as opposed to luffy, sanji, zoro, etc) it can be jarring to have to constantly juggle from being both the archer and the prey

“i cut off my nose just to spite my face/and i hate my reflection for years and years”

its my personal hc that all the long nose jokes actually do affect usopp a lot, and i doubt his insecurities about his personality stop there, he’s probably very insecure about his looks as well

“i wake in the night/i pace like a ghost/the room is on fire/invisible smoke”

love this lyric SO much especially in tandem to usopp, “the room is on fire invisible smoke” kinda has two meanings— im sure as the anxious individual he is usopp constantly has panic attacks where it feels like everything is on fire but only to him, it feels invisible to everyone else, but i also like it because of the specific connotations of “invisible smoke”, as the reason why smoke detectors are so important is because co2 is the biggest silent killer, and is “invisible” in a sense. when merry was still alive in water seven while everyone else was trying to destroy it, it felt like usopp was screaming into the void as he was the only one who could see her soul, the invisible consequence that the rest of the strawhats just couldn’t see, except for usopp

sanji

my love all mine by mitski

for someone as full of love as sanji its inevitable for him to be associated with this song

“nothing in the world belongs to me/but my love, mine all mine”

sanji is someone who wears his heart on his sleeve and just gives and gives until he has no more, because in a world where his siblings are genetically engineered to be better and stronger than him in every way, his love is all he has left to offer. his sensitivity and capability to love is a strength of his, despite what his father or others may think

“my baby here on earth/showed me what my heart was worth/so when it comes to be my turn/could you shine it down here for her?”

sanji is incredibly self sacrificing (as shown by the entirety of whole cake island) and won’t hesitate to give himself in exchange for another. the whole line just screams whole cake island, as luffy brought sanji out of his doubts and to the sea to fulfill his dream and was there for sanji whenever he felt worthless, so in exchange sanji feels as if he has an irreparable debt and need to repay it

[barksenji]

Hi, welcome to wasp indoctrination. You're going to be indoctrinated.

I was fighting with people about wasps in a YouTube comment section and thought I'd share some interesting information here as well:

Wasps are incredible pest controllers! Over 30,000 species of solitary and social wasps hunt a wide range of invertebrates, including bugs, spiders, roaches, and flies. They are likely as effective at regulating the populations of these organisms as other top predators like insectivorous birds, mammals, and amphibians. Additionally, their short lives and rapid reproduction allow them to closely match fluctuations in prey populations.

The chemicals we use to keep our crops free of insect pests are harmful to wildlife and ecosystems. Although pesticides are designed to target specific insect species, research reveals the non-lethal effects these chemicals have on non-target insects. We need to explore more sustainable approaches to agriculture.

This is where wasps come in! Using natural predators, like predatory wasps, is a viable solution. Wasps are also pollinators. Although they hunt prey to feed their growing offspring, adult wasps are herbivores, similar to bees, and visit flowers for sugar. For much of the year, adult social wasps are fed by their larvae, which provide them with a nutritious sugar solution in return for the meat they are given. Social wasps visit flowers mainly in spring and late summer when larvae numbers are low, while solitary wasps can be seen on flowers throughout the year since they do not benefit from larval nutrition.

Some plants are entirely dependent on wasps for pollination; scientists have identified 164 plant species across six families, most of which are orchids that have evolved to mimic female wasp pheromones, if I'm not wrong, some even resembling the back end of a female wasp!

If you think wasps are evil because they sting, it might be due to the CO2 from your breath, which makes them aggressive. CO2 acts as a natural alarm signal at their nest. Holding your breath for 10, 30, or even 50 seconds (good luck lmao) can make them less likely to detect your presence, resulting in bees and wasps leaving you alone.

Lastly, not all wasps are the same. Different species exhibit different behaviors and levels of aggression. For example, Mud dauber wasps, found throughout North America, are known to be the least aggressive. They rarely sting and are not protective over their nests, preferring to nest in areas with access to mud, such as underneath bridges, under eaves, or in attics.

Anyways, I hope you love wasps now. I'm totally not an undercover wasp writing this.

[felidform]

came for the picrew info but now i REALLY wanna know ur oc world lore. what r the clans what r the folklores......

oh boy I'm still working on it (very slow at developing my ocs because my process is literally "wait until something cool spawns into my brain on its own") aaand I tend to focus more on the characters than the world but

I have two different warriors oc universes, H&S (heart and soul) and CO2 (cat ocs 2), they both take place in breezeclan + stormclan + mistclan which are set in the united states midwest. despite these two universes having the same setting they don't exist in the same universe, I just like reusing this setting (I also sometimes reuse characters from H&S and put them in CO2)

H&S has yarrowflame and juniperfang as protagonists, CO2 has smolderheart as its protagonist

this info about the clans is focused on how they are in CO2 because it's what I've been developing more recently and they're more fleshed out in it, but you can more or less apply MOST of this to H&S too:

breezeclan and stormclan have had a strong alliance that is slowly blending their territories together for about 8 years, cats are allowed to cross freely between breeze and storm territory and they regularly trade and share prey. mistclan isn't a part of it, they like being left alone and want to keep their territory to themselves but would also like to remain peaceful.

all three clans have HUGE respect for bobcats (called "lynxes" because it sounds cooler) and mountain lions (very rarely seen, called "lions" or sometimes "great cats"). they admire their independence (an idea that will be explored a lot in CO2's plot is the clans romanticizing the idea of self reliance despite their hugely social nature.)

during CO2's story smolderheart will also be discovering a cave lion fossil which will really shake things up. brand new great cat just dropped and it's REALLY large and ANCIENT!

individual clan info:

breezeclan: - very large, large enough that cats that aren't in important positions aren't expected to know the names of everyone - territory is an even mix of forest, woodland, and prairie - breezeclan cats are commonly warm and friendly individuals - they were the first clan to figure out gardening and much of their clan identity is focused on their gardens. their territory boasts lots of colourful plants and wildflowers. - plants are raised for medicinal purposes primarily, but are also used as bait for prey animals, and as extra flavour for meals - gardeners and medics are separate roles, and both are eligible to become leader just like warriors are - warriors are separated into three semi-unofficial specializations: hunters, fighters, and denkeepers - recent years have been so peaceful that there has been little need for border patrols, and so a relatively new role was created to allow more cats to focus on other activities while still keeping an eye on everything happening on the territory: seekers (short for "seeker of knowledge") - seekers are not mentored for their role, this is intended as a challenge to learn how to find information yourself rather than it being handed to you. (this doesn't mean you can't ask anyone for help, it just means you need to come up with the questions to ask yourself). they spend a large portion of their day outside of camp, looking for Things that the rest of the clan might like to know about and keeping an eye on what's happening outside camp constantly. breezeclan only has 1-3 seekers at a time because 1. you have to be hand selected for the role by the leader 2. not many cats want to be out and about constantly, it gets lonely!

stormclan: - medium sized, more like canon warriors clans are population wise - territory is almost entirely forest. it contains lots of limestone and their camp takes full advantage of this fact, it's very protective - stereotypically stoic, strong, and proud cats - they don't have as many different roles as breezeclan (they're pretty much same roles as canon warriors) but have started to experiment with the idea, particularly they are starting to phase out border patrols and discussing the idea of implementing a seeker role - they've also started to pick up gardening since they allied with breezeclan

mistclan: - small clan! there's like maybe 12 guys here - woodland and wetlands/marshes territory, generally lots more open area than the other two clans have - they have a rough history with the other two clans that I haven't fleshed out very much yet but it pretty much boils down to, a big past war with stormclan that breezeclan chose to support stormclan through. it's been peaceful for a very long time now but it permanently altered the clans' ideas of each other - a little underdeveloped unfortunately I've been focusing on the other two a lot..

there's also a small group of strays (loners) that live near a lake that's just outside clan territories, they contrast how strongly social the clans are. for example, among stray cats it's uncommon for cats to have a dedicated mate (and kittens usually have just one parent), while in the clans the norm is to have a dedicated mate and for kittens to have more than one parent. (another piece of the theme of self reliance vs reliance on others in CO2)

[drstonetrivia]

Chapter 4 Trivia

Tsukasa's stone-cold goals are revealed.

Tsukasa's still got some lion blood on his hand from the punch he delivered in the last chapter.

Because lions have to be stronger than their prey, they're full of muscle and don't have a lot of fat, making their meat tough. Because of the lack of connective tissue and fat to soften the meat through traditional methods, the best way to do it is slowly over a low temperature which prevents the meat overcooking while allowing the connective tissue to break down and soften. Recommendations for cooking lion meat say 57°C over 24 hours. After that, it apparently tastes like pork, but richer.

(I couldn't find any sources on the meat smelling or tasting like ammonia, I'm forced to assume it's a side effect of their territory-marking urine?)

Normally it takes 6-8 weeks to make leather out of skin, but here Tsukasa is wearing it immediately and probably even before the body's become cold, judging by Taiju carrying Yuzuriha's statue to the base in the next panel. This is absolutely disgusting. Don't do this please.

Here we have proof Senku switches out his pouches based on what he needs. What's actually in them is anyone's guess though!

Smoking food works for several reasons. It dries the food (preventing fungal/bacterial growth), the smoke keeps insects away during the process, and the smoke itself imparts preservative and antimicrobial compounds such as the aldehydes Senku mentions. (Too much is toxic though!)

Interesting little habit you have there, Senku...

According to Senku, Tsukasa's skin is extremely pale. I'm not sure if this means he's got Snow White's complexion, or if Senku and Taiju are by comparison very tanned from working outside all day.

Tsukasa may have deemed himself the fighter, but he's no meathead! Based off his thoughtful comments, it looks like Tsukasa is quite scientifically knowledgeable himself, just not as much as Senku.

Adding lime (calcium carbonate) to soil reduces its acidity. Most plants prefer a pH of 6-7.5, which is neutral to slightly acidic. Obviously adding lime to already alkaline soil will make it even more alkaline, so you should test your soil first. Some plants like the acidity!

Heating lime to over 900°C releases CO2 and forms calcium oxide. Adding water and sand to it creates mortar, a substance that hardens by absorbing CO2 from the atmosphere and turning it back into calcium carbonate.

Fun fact: you can use the carbon in mortar for carbon dating!

To make soap, you need a fat (vegetable oil, bacon grease) and a base (lye, wood ash, lime). The goal is to saponify the fat. In modern soaps, calcium carbonate is added to bulk up the product and act as a mild abrasive.

Taiju is a very good friend for Senku because he obviously pays good attention and has a good memory. That is all.

He's just not that great for subtlety or negotiations...

Legally, "disfigurement" means to cause permanent change in a person's body, particularly by leaving visible scars which affect a person's appearance. We don't see any of that on Tsukasa, so did they heal? Was he fighting with broken fingers pre-petrification? What happened?

Freshly broken stone parts are colored in white. Does this mean as long as the stone is still white/unblemished, the pieces can be recombined?

Haha yeah it would be a shame if an evil dictator was woken up...

I still don't understand why Tsukasa skinned the lion where it dropped instead of bringing it back with them if they were going to eat the meat anyway...

[cerealandchoccymilk]

Trigun Bookclub: Trigun Vol.1, Chapter #06

previous | all | next

I’m doing a deep-read of the Japanese original print (reread) and Overhaul 1.0 (first read) side-by-side, and writing down everything I notice from small details, version differences, translation differences, etc.

Here are the non-analysis meow meow panels (only 2 today, sorry 😔)

And the rest is under the cut.

[link for if the images aren’t in horizontal rows]

I really love the "train conductor/bus driver/etc puts themself in danger to protect the passengers" trope- NOOOOOOOOOO COOL CONDUCTOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Small correction: These first onomatopoea are actually...flesh sounds...... And I wasn't really thinking about corrections for this one, more just for nuance, but Neon says something like "it's unfortunate, but..." in this line.

A small difference here: in my version it's actually CO2, not oxygen that's being supplied to the Heat Plant. However, considering that O2 is a fuel for combustion and CO2 is a byproduct, it may be an error on Nightow's part.

This is one of the first indications of who Kaito actually is. He knows all of this off the top of his head, which catches the Captain by surprise.

It also provides information about Plants. This could either mean that all Plants require some kind of fuel, or that the Plants can utilize those resources in some other way to help the Sandsteamer.

Get graphited idiot.

We also get to see more of Kaito's attachment to this Sandsteamer.

Here, the original line is more like "Why would Brilliant Dynamites Neon have to listen to you when this treasure—the prey I've been hunting—is right in front of me!?"

This is where I notice that Neon has a sort of obsession with "beauty," not just in the regular sense but also in his own way. He obviously values visuals—his over-the-top fashion and desire to go out with a bang—but to him, it's also a question of dignity. (this will be on the exam yall)

Even the gang member is getting worried about what Neon might do to Kaito... And here's where we find out why Kaito knows so much and wants to protect the Sandsteamer!

Notes on the original phrasing of this line, since I saw a few posts comparing the Dark Horse and Overhaul versions.

The Japanese line is「パッと散りな　小僧」 パッ(pa') is an onomatopoea for "pop," "poof," or a release (e.g. letting go of an object). 散る(chiru, used here in command form) means "scatter," most commonly associated with falling cherry blossom petals. From that, it's also a euphemism for dying. i can go on for another paragraph on the association of cherry blossoms with Japanese views on life/death but you can figure that out. or google it idk

I think this line is another excellent representation of Neon's values on beauty and death.

I love this page so much!! The flow comes to a complete stop, and the tension that has been building throughout the last few pages is at its peak here. The composition is also excellent. The art is symmetrical, and Neon's giant outfit follows the lines leading from the bottom corners of the page up to Vash's gun, where they intersect right in the middle. I JUST LOVE THESE KINDS OF COMPOSITIONS SO MUCH.....

can't remember why i wrote "sike" there

It took a while to figure out what happened here, but I think Vash either sensed danger or actually dodged a bullet, and chose to jump back out. Love the way he's firmly holding Kaito's overalls while Kaito doesn't understand anything that's going on lol

The silly goofies... theyre screaming crying shitting themselves out there....

It's a bit hard to see, but Kaito is screaming "AAAHHH PULL ME UPPP" in the middle panel.

This exchange after the two get to safety is also so silly... There's a missing "whrrrr drill drill" SFX for Vash's drill hand (?). I saw a photo of the Dark Horse version which was missing it in the same way, with the leftover ン on Vash's cheek.

I forgot to highlight it, but this note pertains to Vash's second speech bubble about death and destruction. The Japanese version of the line is something like "I swear!! I have at least 2 digits' worth of death-gods(死神) or poverty-gods(貧乏神) haunting me!!" Death-gods/shinigami are already well-known in the West so I won't explain that here. The second one, poverty-god/binbōgami, is a similar kind of thing, except it brings poverty to whoever it clings onto (instead of death). Fun fact: Binbōgami are said to like yakimiso (grilled miso paste).

VASH'S SOUPY BRAIN!!! The mystery has been solved!!!

But first, in order... Vash's first line is more like "We can't be worrying about all this right now." It could keep the original phrasing, but the main idea is to change "me" to "us."

The next (most important) line is actually "We gotta save brainpower [for the matter at hand]." The confusion lies in the word 脳みそ, which literally translates to "brain miso," but is actually the word for brain tissue, and thus brainpower. It has nothing to do with miso soup! The origin I wrote in the middle-left of the image is...dubious.... I told my mom about this just now, and she mentioned that it might be called that because みそ(miso) also means the center or key aspect of something. Weblio also says it signifies innards (like from crab or shrimp), similar to what I wrote in the annotation at first. I'll fix it in the document later

Also, I would phrase the last line as "I mean, we're gonna stop this ship, right!?"

Kaito's skills are actually insane. What do you mean you just copied the entire blueprint... Mistranslation: The respect is directed towards his dad, so it should be "You must really look up to your dad."

I didn't know his name was spelled Kaite in this version. My Japanese version copy has that bottom part in a regular speech bubble, and with the font for the boxes. It's most likely just a version-exclusive error. He also says that his dad "found" the ship, but I'm not sure if that's another error or not since this translation makes more sense.

This line is phrased more like "Just for a little bit of cash, I'm now taking advantage of you for a deal with a crook."

I really loved the execution of this scene in the '98 anime. get hammered into the ground boy The final line is from Kaito, not Vash, and should be "...Yeah!!"

And that’s it for Chapter #06! Sorry for the wait, I couldn't work on this as much as I'd liked because of the smoke and rainstorm, combined with weekend responsibilities. Feeling better now though 💪 As always, the Japanese annotations are in the reblogs.

~~~

Bonus: reactions to the soupy-brained Vash post

[ambyandony]

Naramis Week 2023 (Day x)

@naramisweek

so sorry didnt get the chance to post earlier

so this is my take on the prompt.. i saw 'together|apart' and i waws like FUSION ARC FUSION ARC FUSION ARC

So this is the fusion of Mista and Narancia, dubbed Mistancia. He/him, aged at around 17.5, about 5'7.5" tall give or take, and user of the Stand 「Bird Of Prey」, which is functionally essentially a homing missile that, instead of heat-seeking, tracks CO2 emission. It's more 'rocket launcher' oriented than revolver-oriented. The 'gun' he's holding there is actually a part of that big launcher on his back there.

it's a bit overkill but thats half the fun. "what are you gonna do, shoot me?" "WORSE."

and heres the limbancia version plus some bonus mistancia x limbo interaction stuff. i was gonna also draw limbos fusions with the boys plus the triple fusion of all three but i didn't get around to it so for now I have this:

Mimbo, the fusion of Limbo and Mista, and their Stand 「Mighty Wings」, which, combining 「Cloud Nine」's signal disruption and 「Sex Pistols」' trajectory alteration, has the ability to redirect signals. I'm not sure where Mimbo got the tits. they don't know either but their hair is literally perfect

I don't have an image of Nimbo, the fusion of Narancia and Limbo, yet, and I don't want to show my friends pic of them without their go-ahead, so for now I'll just describe them:

Nimbo (also called 'Nimbus') Narancia + Limbo, they/them, 17 years old, approximately 5'4.'5", Stand is 「Hard On The Knees」 (also considered 「Fly Away」) and I'm not completely sure what it does but it probably has some limited control over CO2 rather than just detecting it..

Finally, the triple fusion (Minarimbo? Limarista? Mistarimbo?) has 「Free Bird」. He/they, about 17.5, ~5'7, I don't know what the Stand does.

[eightstrikes]

would you consider sparing a moment of your time to tell us more about some of your favourite creatures🥹? maybe even in excruciating detail if you so please?🥹🥹

These large creatures are related to nootflies. They bear similar features to other local arthropods but act almost entirely removed from their ancestral lineage. Unfortunately I don’t have much information to list due to only having recently discovered them in my region.

They appear to be migratory and follow warm weather fronts. Usually this brews storms which churn up the environment and thus leads to why these creatures favor them so: airborne debris. Smoghawks feed off of the inorganic material usually thrown into the air. What happens in their digestive tract causes them to generate lots of CO2 which is forcefully expelled through the end of their tail to propel themselves through the sky.

Their wings are fin-like and catch particles in the air as they feed, which then leads them to finding a high perch to preen their wings and suction off all the material using their short proboscis. It’s a time consuming process to gain the daily nutrients necessary I imagine. All these materials are, visually, used to form their ashy-colored exoskeleton. It’s made of a combination of flexible material but as they grow older it cracks and eventually either falls off or kills the individual. Yes, I am saying they grow indefinitely.

I suppose other notable features of this species are that they’re incredibly defensive for being prey animals. They use their highly reflective eyes to blind potential attackers. Unfortunately this being their only weapon it’s only viable if they’re in direct sunlight or if their attackers possess bioluminescence (or any other form of light).

[pokemonshelterstories]

When I saw your post about feeding your Roaring Moon Pawmo, I started to wonder where you source them from? I know that some cultures see the eating of other Pokémon as taboo, but...our meat has to come from somewhere, right?

i buy remus's pawmo from a whole-prey supplier that raises the pawmi and pikachu line from eggs, euthanizes them with CO2, and then freezes them for transport/storage.

as for the pokemon i eat, i try to buy from local farms as much as possible; when i can't, i try to research the farms slaughterhouses i buy from so i can see how their livestock are raised.

[my-life-fm]

[politikwatch]

#Ampel #Regierung will jetzt #CO2-#Peris deutlich #anheben ❗

[katiestory]

3. Pain and Heat

Part 3 of my notes on An Immense World by Ed Yong, drawing from chapters 4 and 5 so you can design more biologically accurate speculative beasts.

“In which conditions and from which stimuli is it an advantage to have [pain/nocioception], experience it, and display it?”

Nocioception and Pain

What is it?

Nocioception is a built-in reaction to unpleasant stimuli like heat, pressure, acid, toxins, and inflammation/injury signals. It occurs without input the brain.

Pain is the psychological experience of unpleasantness that occurs in the brain, perhaps allowing the animal to learn to avoid the nociceptor trigger.

How is used in nature?

To send an alert to avoid and move away from danger.

If the alert is not helpful for the animal to know about (i.e. the stimulus is not harmful to them, or not actionable) they likely will not feel it. Examples:

Animals like mole rats that live in high carbon dioxide environments are not sensitive to acids (CO2 acidifies mucous membranes)

Mice that eat scorpions experience their toxic sting as a painkiller

Animals only experience temperature-related “pain” when it is dangerous to them. So penguins that are adapted to live at freezing temperatures don’t feel unpleasantly “cold” until it’s actually harming their bodies.

What does it look like?

Nocioception often presents as an unconscious flinch, i.e. pulling your hand away from a hot pan.

Outwardly, pain often looks like rubbing, cradling, licking, grooming the area; heavy breathing, lack of appetite, rocking motion.

What is the experience like?

There are likely many different experiences of nocioception/pain for different organisms, just as there are many different ways to sense light.

One example: If an animal can reach its whole body, it probably has localized “pain” and can identify where the stimulus came from, so they can groom or otherwise attend to the injury.

But in squids and [perhaps other animals] where threat can come from any direction and they can’t reach much of their body, pain is felt across the whole body, not in the location of injury.

Heat

What is it?

Animals have TRP channels that are tuned to different temperatures. So there are different sensors that alert for extreme heat, extreme cold, mild heat, mild cold. Capsaicin and menthol happen to set off these sensors even though they aren’t actually “hot” or “cold”.

How is it used in nature?

To alert an animal that it needs to react to remain in its thermal “habitable zone”. i.e. With heat sensors on their antennae, flies have stereo heat detection and will swerve around to stay in a certain heat range.

To locate sources of heat important for their lifecycle from many miles away (i.e. fire-chasing beetles).

For a parasite to locate a specific host or a good site to feed – since warm-blooded animals all have their own very specific body temperature, a parasite can be tuned to detect that exact temperature.

As infrared sensors that enhance “vision”. Heat pits have an eye-like structure and may be merged into visual information in the brain. Snakes will position themselves to hunt against a backdrop where there will be a strong temperature contrast between the prey and the ground or sky.

What does it look like?

Skin, antennae, heat pits in snakes, and a dog’s cold/wet nose may all work as heat or infrared sensors. Infrared sensors are often insulated and kept at lower than body temperature so they can better distinguish changes in temperature.

What is the experience like?

Cold, heat, and pain if the temperature is outside the animal’s normal/safe living conditions.

Possibly like “blurry vision”, or as a vision enhancer in animals that have more standard light receptive eyes, i.e. allowing a snake to see heat through barriers like foliage.

As a strong directional attractant, like a beacon.

See the heat pits running along the top lip of this snake.

[aktionfsa-blog-blog]

Wo bleibt das Klimageld?

Damit es nicht bald so aussieht

... wollte die vor 2 Jahren angetretene Ampelregierung etwas gegen den Klimawandel tun. Für die Mehrkosten von Klimamaßnahmen sollten die Menschen durch ein Klimageld entschädigt werden. So steht es im Koalitionsvertrag.

Nachdem die Ampel nun 12 Milliarden zusätzlich in den Bundeswehretat verschoben hat - das macht eher einen olivgrünen Eindruck -  und noch weitere 100 Milliarden direkt der Rüstungsindustrie versprochen hat, klafft nun ein großes Loch im Etat der Bundesregierung.

Keiner redet mehr über das Klimageld

Doch, die Verbraucherzentrale Bundesverband (vzbv) wies vor 2 Tagen darauf hin, dass z.B. die Einnahmen durch die CO2-Bepreisung - das sind bisher 11,4 Milliarden Euro, die der Bund eingenommen hat - irgendwie an die Verbraucher zurückgezahlt wrden sollten. Ramona Pop, Vorstandsmitglied des vzbv erklärte dazu:

  "Der CO2-Preis schafft einen Anreiz für klimaverträgliches Verhalten ... Die Einnahmen aus dem CO2-Preis muss die Bundesregierung aber über ein Klimageld an alle Verbraucher:innen zurückerstatten. Sonst ist die CO2-Abgabe neben den hohen Energiepreisen eine zusätzliche finanzielle Belastung für die Menschen."

Der vzbv errechnete dazu, dass sich nach den Einnahmen bei 82 Millionen Menschen in Deutschland eine Auszahlungssumme von 139 Euro pro Person ergibt. Angemessener wäre sicher ein Rückzahlung entsprechend des Einkommens, allerdings würde das wieder einen hohen bürokratischen Aufwand erfordern. Das pauschale Auszahlen an "alle" wurde dagegen bereits in der Corona-Krise mehr oder weniger gut geübt.

Wenn die Ampel jetzt das Klimageld "vergisst", würde die CO2-Abgabe als zusätzliche Steuer empfunden und die Akzeptanz der letzten kläglichen Reste ihrer Klimapolitik endgültig zerstören.

Mehr dazu bei https://www.telepolis.de/features/Klimageld-Warum-die-Verbraucherzentrale-139-Euro-pro-Person-fordert-9581286.html

Kategorie[21]: Unsere Themen in der Presse Short-Link dieser Seite: a-fsa.de/d/3y1 Link zu dieser Seite: https://www.aktion-freiheitstattangst.org/de/articles/8627-20231223-wo-bleibt-das-klimageld.html

[eldritchqueerture]

One For The Memory

Chapter 11: All The Horrors

Chapter Summary: Surely nothing can go wrong during this confrontation with Elias.

Surely, now that Martin has remembered everything, he will reunite with Jon in peace and they will live happily ever after with no further problems.

Surely.

CW: suicidal ideation, blood, gunshots, hospitals

Author’s Notes: Yes, this took me like half a year. I have no excuse tbh, this first scene has defeated me in more ways than I'm willing to admit. But it is what it is, I'm posting what I've got so strap in cause this is the second to last chapter on this ride! I hope I can get the last one out before the year ends but uh. Not making any promises. Life is being incredibly busy at the moment.

Work Summary: Jon awakens with a tidal wave of memories that don’t make any sense. In an attempt to go on with his life, he searches for the cause of the turmoil in his mind. He knows, though, that something inside him is waking up.

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Fury rages inside Jon as he rushes down corridors towards the boiler room. About halfway there, the wall piping springs to life and hisses CO2 out of the vents. He instinctively holds his breath but finds he experiences no discomfort; apparently his body has no need for oxygen anymore.

A couple seconds later, a terrible shriek echoes from somewhere below the floor, and Jon knows the Hive is dead.

It doesn’t really change anything. He hopes Martin and Gerry are safe without Tim there to break the wall into the tunnels; but that’s just a passing thought, quickly replaced by the single-minded purpose of ending this once and for all. Without overthinking (or thinking of any kind, really), he storms into the boiler room to see Elias staring into space.

His gaze flicks towards Jon as he enters, momentarily surprised.

“Jon? I was told you were absent.”

He doesn’t let his surprise show for long, but Jon knows he was not expected.

“This ends now,” he growls, curling his hands into fists. He curses his lack of thinking - he could use a weapon. “You’ve failed.”

“Oh?” Elias raises his eyebrows. “Have I now?”

Jon looks around and, with a considerable amount of bitter irony, notices a fragile, rusted pipe along the bottom of the wall. He rushes to it and breaks off a piece. CO2 rushes out into the air, but Jon doesn’t mind. He picks up the pipe and grips it tight with both hands.

Elias’ eyebrows travel even higher, and his mouth forms a smile bordering on pity.

“Really?” He asks, incredulous. “And what exactly are you going to do with that?”

“I’ve killed you once,” Jon says a little breathlessly, his hands shaking with adrenaline. “I can do it again.”

“Jon.” Elias’ patronizing tone only fuels the rage inside Jon. “Let’s be sensible now.”

“I’m done being sensible with you,” he growls, taking two steps forward. Elias straightens up slightly. “I’m done listening to your bullshit.”

“Now, now, let’s take a step back, shall we?” He extends a hand towards him in what is probably supposed to be a peaceful gesture. “Before anyone does something we might… regret.”

Instead of answering, Jon swings the pipe, striking Elias’s palm. The crack of breaking bones mingles with Elias’ cry of pain. He retreats further into the room, cradling his injured hand to his chest.

“The only thing I regret is not doing this sooner.”

“J—Jon, wait… I—”

“I’m done waiting! This is the end, Jonah. Accept it.” Jon follows him slowly, like a predator cornering its prey. For a moment there is genuine fear in Elias’ pained expression, and Jon revels in it.

In the next, Elias’ left hand fumbles behind his back and pulls out a gun.

Jon freezes. Elias clears his throat, blinking away the tears of pain.

“I very much hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” he says, attempting a level voice amidst the pain. “But you leave me no choice.”

Jon holds eye contact through the brief pause.

“Unless you agree that this was simply a… misunderstanding,” Elias continues with a tight smile. “I’m sure we can still come to an agreement and put it all past—”

“Like hell we will,” Jon scowls. “You’re not talking your way out of here and blackmailing us into obedience. This ends right here, right now. One way or another.”

He can’t stop grief from lining his words with a bitterness only he understands. “You kill me, or I kill you - either way, you lose.”

“Jon, this is suicide.” Elias gives him a stern look. “We can work this out—”

“No.” Jon takes another step. “Make your choice, or I’ll make it for you.”

His heart races in his chest, his breathing is fast and shallow, and his hands tremble around the pipe. Still, his voice does not waver. He takes one more step forward, just as Elias takes one step back.

“You’d hurt a lot of people by killing me, as I’m sure you’re aware. Is this really worth dying for?”

“I don’t. Care.”

Elias shakes his head with a heavy sigh. “So wasteful.”

Jon snorts. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

Elias takes a second to again assess the situation. The determination on Jon’s face is unwavering and, as they take another step in their approach-and-retreat dance, Elias’ back hits the wall.

“Jon, I beg you,” he tries again. “I really don’t want to do this.”

“Tough,” Jon says through gritted teeth. The tension reaches a breaking point; Elias sees him prepare to strike.

He takes aim and pulls the trigger.

***

A horrible shriek coming from the archive stairs vibrates the air around Martin, and he stops for a moment. Gerry and Sasha stop right behind him, and he feels Gerry’s hand on his shoulder. The entire ground floor is rapidly filling with CO2, judging by the hiss from the vents they installed, and soon enough there will be close to no oxygen in the corridors. Martin covers his mouth instinctively and turns to his friends.

“Get out! It’s not safe here!”

“Martin!” Gerry’s grip tightens, stopping him from running off. “We’re going with you.”

“No, I’ve got this.” Martin gives him a pointed look. “Trust me. Go.”

“Are you sure?

“Yes! Go and talk to the police!”

He then shrugs Gerry’s hand off and runs down the corridor.

“I am not talking to the cops,” Gerry mutters with disgust.

“Come on, then!” Sasha tugs him by the arm, but he stops her.

“No, wait!” He looks around and blinks hard against a headache that has started to creep up on him. “I have another idea.”

He grabs Sasha’s arm and pulls her up the stairs.

“Where are we going?” She asks with confusion.

“Elias’ office,” Gerry says over his shoulder. “There’s gotta be some proof that he killed Gertrude.”

Sasha gasps excitedly. “I like where your mind’s at.”

They throw the office door open and take a second to calm their breathing. The air is clearer up here with less vents installed, but Gerry still takes a moment to open the window.

“You okay?” He asks Sasha, who’s already rummaging through Elias’ desk.

“Yeah, just a bit lightheaded, that’s all.” She waves her hand dismissively. “We’ll be fine.”

Gerry turns to join her at the desk, and they both jump when two gunshots pierce the air.

They exchange concerned glances.

“Was that…?” Sasha trails off, her meaning crystal clear.

“There’s no one else in the Institute,” Gerry answers through the tightness in his throat.

Sasha looks between the desk and the door in distress.

“Should we go check up on them?” She asks. “I think, out of the three of them, Elias is the most likely to own a gun.”

“Owning it doesn’t mean it was he who fired it,” Gerry offers weakly. “We could split up.”

“Alright, you go.” Sasha nods and gestures towards the desk. “I’m good at this sort of thing. Meet you back downstairs in fifteen.”

“Okay.” Gerry squeezes her shoulder briefly. “See you.”

As he runs through the Institute, Martin searches his pockets for anything that could be used as a weapon. All he finds is the corkscrew, still covered in Tim’s blood. He grimaces and shrugs. There’s no time to look for something more appropriate, and it is better than nothing.

He tries to breathe in as little air as he can without suffocating, but he still feels lightheaded soon and has to briefly stop and lean against the wall to regain balance. His heart hammers in his chest, with memories of the last moments in the Panopticon springing to his mind without conscious input. The situation is awfully similar to him sprinting up the stairs of the tower, not yet aware of what waited for him at the top.

His throat closes up at that, and he pushes the thought away. Now’s not the time. It’s not too late yet.

That’s when two gunshots ring through the air in rapid succession, close enough to startle Martin. His blood freezes momentarily and then he breaks into a run, not paying attention to his vision swaying ever so slightly. He staggers a couple times, losing balance. He doesn’t stop and pushes himself off the wall towards the boiler room.

The door to it is ajar, and he can hear someone groaning in pain inside. He instantly recognizes Jon’s voice; a testament to hearing him in pain far too many times.

There’s no one else inside but Jon, lying on the floor and clutching his shoulder. There’s a bloody trail along the floor, as if he had tried to drag himself to the exit but ran out of strength, which is, as Martin suspects, exactly what happened. Elias is nowhere to be seen, so Martin lets go of the corkscrew and drops to the floor at Jon’s side.

“Jon. Jon, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He quickly takes off his own sweater to wrap it around Jon’s wounded shoulder, eliciting a groan of pain. It seems the other shot hit his thigh, effectively stopping him from any attempts at walking, while not killing him instantly. He’s losing blood fast though; the fact that it was Elias who dealt the wounds meant the Eye wouldn’t heal him. Martin’s mouth goes dry with fear.

“Martin…” Jon blinks up at him with effort and reaches for his arm. “What… What are you doing here?”

“Saving your bloody, stubborn ass, apparently,” he huffs out a half-hearted chuckle. “You’re gonna be okay. Ambulance’s already here, c’mon.”

“No! No…” Jon lets out a pained gasp. “Leave… I can… I can free you. All of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Martin laughs in disbelief, something painfully constricting in his chest.

“If… If I die—”

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare.” Martin tightens his grip on Jon’s shoulders and grits his teeth. “You promised.”

His eyes prickle - his self-control can only last for so long. Jon doesn’t seem to hear him.

“Martin, listen… The Panopticon… In the tunnels, you… you have to—”

“Shut up, Jon, for once just—just shut up.” His breathing comes in irregular spasms as he manoeuvres his hands under Jon for a good grip to pick him up.

Before managing to do that, he hears steps running up to the boiler room, and Gerry appears in the doorway.

“Martin? I heard…” His eyes widen at the scene in front of him. “Oh, fuck.”

“Ambulance, now!” Martin shouts and heaves Jon up with a groan. Gerry wastes no time, running back down the corridor.

“Martin, please…” Jon’s breathing is laboured, and the movement causes him pain. Blood seeps into Martin’s shirt, but he could not care less. He hurries towards the exit of the Institute as fast as he can without jostling Jon too much. “Please just listen…”

“Save your strength,” Martin mutters. “You’re not dying on me now, you hear me? I forbid it.”

Jon laughs lightly and tears spill from his eyes.

“You’re just like him…” He whispers.

Martin can't hold back tears anymore. The walk is taking forever, and he’s starting to wonder if there’s a supernatural influence increasing the distance just to toy with him.

“I’m sorry,” Jon whispers. He blinks slowly, as if it’s an effort to keep his eyes open. A surge of fear cools Martin’s blood. “I’m… sorry for everything.”

“Jon, hold on,” he says through gritted teeth. “We’re almost there, please. Please, just hold on a little longer. Jon!”

Martin shakes his arms a little when Jon’s eyes stay closed this time. His eyelids flutter for a moment and his breathing slows down.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Martin repeats as he breaks into a run. “Jon, for fuck’s sake!”

He storms into the Institute’s atrium to find paramedics there, wheeling a stretcher from the entrance in a hurry.

“Here!” Martin calls out. He quickly lays Jon down on the stretcher, and the paramedics make short work of positioning him straight on his back with his feet elevated.

“Detecting faint pulse, looks like severe blood loss,” one of them shouts as they wheel him out of the building and into the ambulance. Two of them focus solely on applying direct pressure to the wounds, and another fixes an oxygen mask on Jon. Gerry runs up to Martin and grabs his arm in support.

“Are you hurt?” Gerry asks, and Martin only shakes his head.

“He can’t die now, he can’t, he can’t,” Martin repeats, not caring if he’s speaking out loud. They follow the paramedics up to the ambulance, where they’re stopped by a firm hand.

“We need to take him to the hospital,” one of the paramedics informs. “He’s in good hands now.”

“Is he going to make it?” Gerry asks. The man presses his lips together solemnly.

“I’m sorry, it’s too early to tell. We’re doing what we can.”

He disappears inside, and the ambulance takes off, its siren blaring.

Martin stares after it with an empty expression for a moment. Is it the Web’s doing? Giving him the ‘gift’ of tapes that bring back his memory only to take Jon away? A last, cruel joke? He can’t let that happen, but… What can he do? As in their home universe, so in this one, he’s unable to make a real difference. What good is he against literal powers of fear?

“Was that… Guys, who was that?”

Martin barely registers Tim’s voice. He finds it impossible to look anywhere but at the fixed point in space, and his blank expression is frozen on his face. He feels cold all over.

Gerry looks between Martin and Tim, who limps up to them unsteadily, but doesn’t say anything.

“Gerry? Martin?” Tim asks again, more insistingly. He suddenly looks around in alarm. “Where’s Sasha?”

“She’s…” Gerry stops short with a sudden look at Martin. “Where did Elias go? Martin?”

If Martin hears him, he doesn’t answer. He’s like a statue, staring out into space.

“For fuck’s sake…” Gerry mumbles and breaks into a run up the stairs.

In the door to the Institute, he almost collides with Sasha, who exits the building.

“Woah!” She exclaims, almost dropping the file box she's holding in her arms.

“Good, you’re here.” Gerry breathes out with relief.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Tim breathes out as soon as they make it down the stairs and lunges to wrap Sasha in a hug. She blinks in surprise and returns the hug.

“Did you find Jon?” She asks over Tim’s shoulder, who’s unwilling to let her go just yet.

Gerry looks down with a sigh. Martin looks at Sasha with eyes glazed over with tears.

“I found him,” he says in a thick voice. He walks up to the stairs and sits down heavily. “Too late. Always… Always too late.”

Sasha looks between them fearfully, extracting herself from Tim and guiding him to sit down next to Martin.

“What are you saying?”

“Self-sacrificial bastard,” Martin mutters and hides his face in his hands, as a wave of heart wrenching sorrow overtakes him. Gerry rushes to put an arm around him and gently guides his bloodied hands away from his face.

“They took him to the hospital,” he supplied quietly. “He might still make it.”

“But…” Sasha takes a shaky breath. “But I saw him shrug off a fatal injury from the table creature like it was nothing! How is a gun different?”

“Beholding cannot heal him because it was Elias who injured him,” Gerry explained. “I think. I’m not sure how this works.”

“Only a few can hurt him now,” Martin adds shakily. “Hunt avatars and those who belong to the Eye. That’s why Elias… And I—”

Martin’s voice breaks, as he stares forward with unseeing eyes.

“How do you know that?” Sasha looks at him in surprise. “What… What happened to you?”

Martin lets out a laugh. “I remember everything,” he mumbles. “Jon wasn’t the only one that came through that night, but the Lonely hid me away. Annabelle must have known…”

“Annabelle Cane?” Sasha frowns. “The one who—”

“—Brought the tapes, yeah.” Martin sniffles. “She said it was a gift. A thank-you gift. Because we did what she wanted.” He gasps and for a moment it’s not clear whether he’s crying or laughing.

“Martin…” Gerry looks at him worriedly.

“I just wanted us to have some peace,” Martin whispers. “Why can’t we have just a little bit of goddamned peace?! I just… It was going to work out, everything was supposed to be— And I’m…”

Gerry pulls him closer. “It’s going to be okay, Martin,” he whispers soothingly. “You’re both going to be okay.”

Martin laughs mirthlessly at that. He should know better by now than to believe that.

***

Fleeting nightmares play in his mind for what seems like eternity; vague sceneries that realize themselves just enough to spark dread in his gut, only to fade away in the next second, his consciousness pulled in different directions like a leaf on a changing wind. The visions leave him with a suffocating weight on his chest (does he even have one of those anymore?) and a bitter taste on his tongue. Some of them feel more real than the others, and it’s in one of those that he comes to on a hospital bed, with an IV taped onto his arm. Martin sits beside him, staring into space with a blank expression. Jon takes a moment to just look at his face; his eyes are slightly red-rimmed as if from crying, but the rest of his face is dry. Jon feels strangely detached from the sight and oblivious to its meaning.

“Mar…tin…” Jon whispers slowly, as if savouring the taste of the word. Martin’s eyes snap to him instantly, and he gasps.

“Jon? Jon, Christ. You’re awake.”

He chuckles weakly. His vision is hazy and his brain feels foggy; there’s no pain, just this floaty feeling of dream-like reality surrounding him like a plush pillow.

“Didn’t expect afterlife to look so… hospital-like,” he mutters and reaches his hand out towards Martin. He takes it with a look of confusion. “But that’s fine. You’re here. ‘S all that matters.”

“Wha… Jon, you’re not dead.” Martin levels him with a hard stare. “I wasn’t gonna let you die.”

Jon closes his eyes and shakes his head with an indulging smile. “Of course, you weren’t.”

He falls through the unstable ground of reality to the next dream, with no memory of the conversation.

When he wakes up again, it’s with a much clearer mind, and aches. He groans and shifts, causing more pain to flare in his shoulder. With that, recent events begin trickling back into his mind.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” He hears a voice beside him, and he opens his eyes to see Gerry sitting cross-legged on the hospital chair, with a lopsided smile on his lips. It fades a little into something more serious. “Are you in pain?”

Jon only whines in answer.

“I’m gonna call the nurse then, yeah?” Gerry moves to get up, but Jon shakes his head.

“Wait,” he mumbles. “Martin…”

“He’s alright,” Gerry answers gently. “As are Tim and Sasha. Everyone’s okay.”

Jon exhales with relief.

“I’m… alive,” he says, making Gerry snort.

“Astute observation. Despite your hardest efforts, might I add. You’re a lucky bastard.”

Jon lets out a pained laugh. “Not… how I’d describe it.”

“Elias shot at you twice but only one of the bullets actually hit you.” Gerry points his chin at Jon’s shoulder. “The other one only grazed your thigh. You lost a lot of blood before Martin got to you, but they managed to save you. Not sure how much of that was Beholding, but you’re expected to make a full recovery.”

Tears cloud Jon’s vision for a moment, and he lets out a breath.

“Elias?”

“Made a break for it, from what we can tell,” Gerry shrugs. “Hasn’t reappeared since. He’s probably aware that Sasha found dirt in his office.”

Seeing Jon’s frown, Gerry adds: “Gertrude’s murder on tape . Sick asshole. A few other blackmail cases too and, well. Apparently some old, human bones. Not sure what that’s about, but the police seemed very interested in those.”

“It’s time to find the Panopticon,” Jon groans and pulls himself upright. “We have to kill—”

“Easy there, cowboy.” Gerry shoots out to steady him on the bed. “First of all, you’re in no state to go anywhere. Second, this place is monitored, and the cops are still sort of interested in you.” He raises his eyebrows pointedly. “I’d be careful with phrasing.”

Jon sighs and grimaces in pain. “Right.”

“How about I call the nurse to get you some more of that sweet anaesthetic, huh?” Gerry offers.

“Alright, fine,” Jon looks away. “Just, um, Gerry?”

“Yeah?”

“Has Martin… How—How is he?”

Gerry looks at him wordlessly for a moment with a glint in his eye Jon can’t place.

“I think you two should just talk,” he says finally. “Preferably when you’re conscious.”

“I am conscious.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that in ten minutes,” Gerry chuckles and presses the white button on the wall. “You have been talking in your sleep a bit.”

Jon opens his eyes wider. “I—I have?”

“Apparently you thought this was heaven,” Gerry snorts. “Don’t know where you got that idea, but to each their own, I guess.”

Jon presses his lips together in a sudden spark of self-consciousness.

A short, older nurse enters the room with a clipboard and greets Jon with a smile.

“Good morning, Jon. I’m Eliza.” She walks up to check his vitals and the IV currently inserted in his arm. “Do you know where you are?”

“Uh…” Jon blinks in slight confusion. “In a hospital, I suppose. I’m afraid I haven’t been in enough of those in London to recognize them individually from the inside.”

Eliza laughs. “That’s perfectly fine. Mind telling me how you feel?”

“I feel fine.” He shifts slightly and winces.

“Any pain?” She raises her eyebrows and gently looks over the bandages.

“Just the usual amount, it’s fine.”

“The usual amount is none, sweetheart.” Eliza tilts her head at him. “I’m going to run a basic check-up, and then I’ll give you some more anaesthetic, alright?”

Jon grimaces at her words. “Yeah, alright.”

“I’m sorry sir, I’m going to need you to leave for the moment,” she addresses Gerry. “You’ll be able to come back once we’re done.”

“Sure thing.” Gerry places a hand on Jon’s arm. “Hang tight. I’m gonna go get Martin.”

Jon wants to call after him, but he can’t bring himself to mention statements in front of the nurse. After Gerry leaves Jon sighs and braces himself for the onslaught of questions, trying not to think about the growing pit somewhere inside him.

The anaesthetic has stopped working.

Jon stares at the translucent fluid dripping down into the IV line and he Knows it has no further effects on his body. He supposes that’s just as well; it would be surprising if, after merging with the less human part of himself, he still adhered to the laws of human biology.

He feels exhausted. Hungry. He’s afraid of what he will do if he doesn’t get access to a statement soon; there must be plenty of people with various experiences in this hospital. Jon’s not very keen on creeping through the corridors in search of a victim. What would his Martin think of him if he saw him?

He tries not to think about the confrontation with Elias. Ultimately, he failed in what he set out to do, and now Elias is gone and he’s… Vulnerable. More powerful and knowledgeable, sure. But ultimately defeated.

After all, he’s the one who brought the fear entities into this universe.

Annabelle Cane said so herself when she visited the Archives that fateful morning. Jon wasn’t there to listen, but a tape recorder running in the background captured the entirety of the meeting. Jon doesn’t even need to hear the tape anymore to know what it contains.

Everything’s already done. The Web got what it wanted and there is nothing he can do.

But that’s not true, isn’t it? He might be alone here, stripped of his humanity and cursed to live off of other people’s fear, but there is something he could still do. He could ensure that his assistants - his friends - are safe. This world may be infested with nightmares because of him, and he will bear this guilt for all eternity, but one thing he needs to do is make sure Sasha, Tim, and Martin are never plagued by these creatures again. Perhaps that could be his anchor to humanity for as long as they live. And after that…?

There’s a gentle knock on the hospital door; the sound of it tugs at Jon’s heart. His gaze flicks to the door, which opens to reveal Martin, his eyes wide and glistening.

“Hi, Jon,” he says quietly, and there is a certain fragile quality to his voice. Jon smiles through the ache in his chest.

“Hello, Martin.”

A flash of pain travels through Martin’s face, and he carefully closes the door behind him and walks up to the bed.

“I… I brought something for you,” he speaks and reaches for his backpack. He places it at the foot of the bed, and it touches Jon’s leg under the bedsheet. Somehow, this contact grounds him.

Martin pulls out a file folder and wordlessly passes it to Jon, who frowns with confusion as he takes it. Careful of the wound in his shoulder, he opens the file.

“That’s…” He blinks. Statements. “How did you know?”

Martin lets out a pained laugh. “I don’t know where to start.”

Jon properly looks up at that. There are tears in Martin’s eyes as he hangs onto the backpack. He still hasn’t approached, staring at Jon as if he might disappear if he looks away.

“I don’t… understand.”

“I mean, really, where do you start ?!” A maelstrom of emotions breaks out on Martin’s face when he exclaims or maybe sobs out the words. “Should I be thanking every damn power in the universe that allowed us to get here alive? Should I be angry at you for trying again and again to sacrifice yourself at every goddamn opportunity? Should I just fucking break down here and now because of how scared I was that when I actually managed to remember it all, I was too late? That you were already” —His voice cracks, and he looks up, trying to stave off tears. “But you’re here, and you were here the whole time, and you were here alone . You were alone because a part of me refused to let go, and that’s my fault, so, do I feel guilty for pushing you to feel like this was what you had to do? Because I feel all of this and more, and I just…”

He looks away, blinking furiously.

“Martin, what… What on Earth are you talking about?” Jon asks faintly, not able to fully process this outburst. Martin laughs through tears.

“It’s me, Jon. I’m here. I remember.”

Something enormous sinks heavily in Jon’s chest. He shakes his head weakly.

“No, that’s…That’s impossible. You—”

“Annabelle Cane came to the Institute the morning Prentiss attacked,” Martin says. “She brought tapes. The tapes from our world, all of them, detailing everything that happened.”

“This isn’t real,” Jon mumbles through a numbness that spreads on his face. “It can’t be real.”

“I listened to the one from the start of the Change,” Martin continued mercilessly. “I didn’t know it would help me, but I felt drawn by it. Must’ve been the Web or, or a part of me just knew. It was from the first Lonely domain we passed. I fell behind, in a house full of fog and lost souls, and I—I kept forgetting—”

“Stop!” Jon wouldn't be able to stop shaking his head even if he wanted to. He retreats, pressing his back into the wall behind his bed, as if that could distance him from Martin’s words. “I tried everything to bring Martin to the surface. He would have answered if he was there.”

Martin smiles bitterly for a moment, and a wistful look passes through his face.

“Huh. I remember thinking the same thing when you were in a coma,” he says quietly. “’He would wake up if he could. For me.’”

Jon stares at him in mute terror.

“I think I understand now, though.” Martin sniffles. “It made no difference if or how much you loved me, or anyone else. It was Oliver who helped you, but ultimately it was something you had to go through on your own. Make your own peace with it or succumb to it. I’m just… I’m sorry it took me so long to get there.”

Jon leans forward slightly, his heart hammering against his ribcage. He extends a hand but falters halfway, laying it on top of the sheets instead.

“You’re… You’re saying you really… You’re…”

Martin walks up to the side of the bed and gingerly takes Jon’s hand.

“Yeah. We made it here together.” He swallows with difficulty. “One way or another.”

Jon lets out a weak whine.

“When… When did you—?”

“After Prentiss showed up.” Martin squeezes his hand. “When Gerry and I were locked in the document storage.”

“Oh, my G—Martin, I’m so— I didn’t—”

Tears stream down Jon’s cheeks, and Martin carefully pulls him into a hug, seating himself on the edge of the bed.

“It’s alright, Jon,” he whispers, stroking Jon’s hair. “It’s alright.”

Jon’s defences all shatter like glass, and he cries into Martin’s shoulder for what feels like ages. Martin can't stop his own tears either. Soon enough they are both a mess of tears and ragged breathing.

Martin pulls back, cradling Jon’s face in his hand. He passes a thumb across his cheekbone, wiping away some of the wetness.

“Can you forgive me?” Jon asks almost inaudibly, and in his eyes, Martin can see grief that could envelop the entire universe in its magnitude.

“I love you, Jon,” Martin breathes out. “I’ve already forgiven you.”

Jon lets out another small whine, and more tears spill out of his eyes.

“You’re safe now,” Martin adds and tucks Jon's hair behind his ear. “That’s all that matters.”

Jon stares at him like a wounded animal. With a sudden self-consciousness, and a sinking feeling of guilt, Martin withdraws his hands. What if Jon doesn’t feel this way about him anymore? After what had happened - after what he’d done?

This line of thought is quickly shut down, as Jon catches his retreating hands in his own.

“Don’t go,” he says insistently. “Stay. Please.”

“I brought statements for you—”

“They can wait a bit longer,” Jon answers quickly. His eyes watch and almost devour the sight of Martin, as if he has limited time for witnessing his presence and wants to take as much out of it as he can.

“Alright.”

Jon moves carefully to the side, and Martin settles next to him, leaning his back against the wall just enough so he can wrap his arm around Jon and pull him close. Jon melts against him like he’s done a million times before, albeit in an entirely different lifetime.

They both know they still need to talk. The events at the Panopticon hang over them like a dark cloud and they’re aware that the issue is far from being resolved. But for now, they are safe, together; feeling each other’s bodies pressed close, hearing each other’s breaths. And that is all that matters.

***

Jon is let out of the hospital a couple days later, baffling the doctors with his immunity to any and all medication beyond what was used to immediately save his life. The wounds begin healing slowly, and Jon finds himself able to walk around with a cane quite soon. He basically flees the hospital then, without making too much of a scene if he can help it. Recovery means that the police will probably take interest and Jon wants to avoid that as much as possible.

They do catch him either way; they wait for him at the Institute when he and Martin return from the hospital. Martin takes a protective step in front of him when they’re approached by Basira in a police uniform, holding a notepad. She only asks a couple questions and moves on, firmly telling them that entering the tunnels under the Institute is prohibited until the case of Gertrude’s death is closed.

They meet with Tim and Sasha in the archives’ breakroom, and Martin leads Jon to a chair. Under other circumstances this kind of hovering would probably grate on Jon’s nerves, but this time a warm feeling blooms in his chest. He beams at Martin as he’s guided to sit down, and he leans his cane against the table.

Jon takes notice of Sasha's subtle (and Tim's less so) looks at the two of them. They haven’t talked a lot between the events at the Institute, with Tim recovering from the after-effects of being replaced and helping Sasha as best he could while she handled the situation at the Institute itself. Rosie took the brunt of dealing with the police, but Sasha was responsible for managing the ECDC crew, who disposed of Jane Prentiss’ corpse. They haven’t really had time to even visit Jon in the hospital, and Martin was, to put it mildly, unresponsive. Gerry helped as much as he could from a distance, since, in his words, it wouldn’t be best for him and the police to cross paths again.

“So…” Tim starts uneasily, looking between Jon’s tired face and Martin, who is still clutching Jon’s hands in his. “You guys are both… From that other place? Not just Jon?”

Jon can’t hold back a smile, and he looks down at their joined hands. He still can’t believe it. Martin is actually here, after all this time he thought he was alone… They actually made it.

“Yeah,” Martin answers. “I know this must be super confusing for you, I’m—I’m sorry. But yeah, the whole thing with me not remembering Jon’s tape, the confusion, the disappearing.” He looks away. “I guess I needed an additional push to remember it all through the fog.”

“Annabelle’s tapes,” Sasha prompted.

“ Our tapes,” Jon corrects with a tinge of anger. “As much as I might hate it.”

“We hate her more,” Martin adds pointedly.

“Why did she do that, then? An act of benevolence?” Tim scoffs.

“She said it was a gift.” Martin sighs. “I don’t think there’s anything sinister here.”

“I doomed countless worlds, this one included,” Jon said thickly, not looking at any of them. “I did what the Web wanted. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter if Martin is here or not.”

“Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand. Jon looks back at him.

“You can’t deny it. Every single tragedy, every single death in this world due to the Fears is because of me. The fact that the Institute exists here, the fact that Tim and Sasha are trapped here in the first place is because of what we did. I told you this would happen and—”

“The Fears were here well before we arrived,” Martin counters. “You couldn’t have possibly brought them here.”

“I Saw it all in the Panopticon.” Jon shakes his head. “They did originate in our universe, grew from but a trace to something that ultimately broke free from its nest. There’s no saying how many other realities they travelled to. They exist in an entirely different way to us, Martin, they’re not physical beings; they’re not concerned with time .”

Jon’s voice takes on that patronising tone it sometimes used to take during the Apocalypse; as if he was explaining something utterly inane. Anger sparks in Martin at that.

“Even so, we did what we had to do! We can’t be held accountable—”

“No, we didn’t .”

They stare at each other with eyes glistening in emotions, a quiet battle of resolve.

“How about… we discuss what to do next?” Sasha asks carefully, tilting her head. “Here and now?”

Something sharp glistens in Martin’s eyes, but Jon decides to disregard it. He sighs heavily and turns back to the table.

“We need to go to the tunnels and find the Panopticon. Jonah’s body should still be there, and if we kill it, the Institute should release everyone. We’ll successfully evade the chance for the Change happening here for a good while yet.”

“But not forever?” Tim asks.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible.” Jon shrugs slightly. “Jonah Magnus will be dead, but nothing stops other avatars from figuring out what he did. The fact that he was the only one to figure it out so far is a hopeful sign at least.”

“What about us?” Sasha asks with a concerned glance at Tim. “You said it could kill us?”

“It won’t.” Jon presses his lips together. “At least it shouldn’t, you haven’t been here long. The rest of the Institute shouldn’t notice a thing. Elias highly exaggerated the cost, of course.”

“Uh… So, where is he now?” Tim asks.

Jon frowns, looking off to the side.

“I’m… not sure. The Eye is weaker here, and I can’t…”

“It doesn’t matter though, does it?” Martin interrupts impatiently. “We just need to find the Panopticon and kill him.”

“Right.” Jon nods. “You—You have a knife, right?”

“Hold on, like, right now?” Tim raises his hands. “No preparation, no… nothing?”

Martin shrugs. “The more we wait the more time he has to plan something.”

“We’re talking about killing someone, Martin, you’re… you’re okay with that?”

“We’re talking about killing a two-hundred-year-old guy who’s ended the world,” Martin deadpans. “But you guys don’t have to go if you don’t—”

“You are not getting rid of us now.” Sasha firmly shakes her head. “We might not fully understand what’s going on, but I’ll be damned if we don’t help you take this to the end.”

Jon smiles at her. “Thank you, Sasha.”

“Alright then.” Tim exhales loudly through his mouth. “To the secret tunnels then, I presume?”

-

Enter Relationship Conflicts: I doomed countless universes to torment because I couldn't watch you die edition. I cannot wait to explore it. Be warned.

Title inspiration: "The Horror and the Wild" by The Amazing Devil

[the-helper-bee]

The Blue Glaucus

(The most badass creature in the sea) (ok admittedly maybe not that badass but still pretty badass)

I'm really excited to do the so-called "blue dragon" for my first post, because it is my absolute favorite animal. Even though I thought I knew pretty much everything I could about it, I still learned a couple new things researching.

The blue glaucus, aka glaucus atlanticus, is a 3-centimeter-long sea slug living in the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans. If you read the title at all, you'd see my claim that the blue glaucus is the most badass creature in the sea. Okay, I exaggerated- maybe they're not exactly super badass. I wouldn't exactly be running away screaming in terror if I saw a one inch "sea slug" floating around at the beach. But, despite its size, the blue glaucus is extremely dangerous. It holds the concentrated venom of its prey, the Portuguese Man O' War (yes, the funky looking jellyfish with extremely long and terrifying tentacles). They're protected from the venom by a layer of mucus in their skin and can store the stinging nematocysts inside of their bodies. As sea slugs, the glaucus isn't poisonous without obtaining the venom from a Man O' War first. However, once stored, a sting from this "blue angel" can kill a human.

The blue glaucus spends most of its time floating around on its back near the ocean surface, hiding from birds and loggerhead sea turtles with a camouflage known as countershading. The glaucus's lighter top and darker blue bottom help it blend into the natural light of the ocean. The blue dragon lives a relatively simple lifestyle, using swallowed CO2 bubbles to float or sinking towards the bottom of shallower waters. It doesn't live very long, with a life span of only a month to a year. With a mucus-covered layer of skin, the blue glaucus is protected from any stings it may receive from its prey.

Some general badass characteristics of the blue glaucus:

-knife-like teeth.

-laying its eggs in its prey's carcasses.

-cannibalism.

-S-shaped dicks. (They also can sting each other during sex.)

-a group of blue glaucuses is called a "blue fleet."

-They're hermaphroditic (hemaphro-DICK-tic, if you will,) meaning a single blue glaucus can produce eggs or sperm.

Here's some article links to the sites I used: Blue Glaucus - Oceana,

Blue Glaucus Facts & Information Guide - American Oceans