#Century Roof and Solar

[cognitivejustice]

Solar chimneys are dark-painted shafts attached to the sides of buildings. The chimney absorbs heat, and when that hot air rises, the suction forces cooler air to ventilate through the house. Combined with other passive cooling strategies, solar chimneys can reduce indoor temperatures up to 14F.

Solar chimneys have been used for centuries in the Middle East, and started being used in the US around the 1960s, said Corey Saft, an architecture professor at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. In 2018, Harvard’s Center for Green Buildings and Cities installed a solar chimney on its headquarters as part of retrofit aimed at making the building require almost no energy for heating, cooling, ventilation or daytime electric lighting.

[reasonsforhope]

"This year the world will make something like 70bn of these solar cells, the vast majority of them in China, and sandwich them between sheets of glass to make what the industry calls modules but most other people call panels: 60 to 72 cells at a time, typically, for most of the modules which end up on residential roofs, more for those destined for commercial plant. Those panels will provide power to family homes, to local electricity collectives, to specific industrial installations and to large electric grids; they will sit unnoticed on roofs, charmingly outside rural schools, controversially across pristine deserts, prosaically on the balconies of blocks of flats and in almost every other setting imaginable.

Once in place they will sit there for decades, making no noise, emitting no fumes, using no resources, costing almost nothing and generating power. It is the least obtrusive revolution imaginable. But it is a revolution nonetheless.

Over the course of 2023 the world’s solar cells, their panels currently covering less than 10,000 square kilometres, produced about 1,600 terawatt-hours of energy (a terawatt, or 1tw, is a trillion watts). That represented about 6% of the electricity generated world wide, and just over 1% of the world’s primary-energy use. That last figure sounds fairly marginal, though rather less so when you consider that the fossil fuels which provide most of the world’s primary energy are much less efficient. More than half the primary energy in coal and oil ends up as waste heat, rather than electricity or forward motion.

What makes solar energy revolutionary is the rate of growth which brought it to this just-beyond-the-marginal state. Michael Liebreich, a veteran analyst of clean-energy technology and economics, puts it this way:

In 2004, it took the world a whole year to install a gigawatt of solar-power capacity... In 2010, it took a month In 2016, a week. In 2023 there were single days which saw a gigawatt of installation worldwide. Over the course of 2024 analysts at BloombergNEF, a data outfit, expect to see 520-655gw of capacity installed: that’s up to two 2004s a day...

And it shows no signs of stopping, or even slowing down. Buying and installing solar panels is currently the largest single category of investment in electricity generation, according to the International Energy Agency (IEA), an intergovernmental think-tank: it expects $500bn this year, not far short of the sum being put into upstream oil and gas. Installed capacity is doubling every three years. According to the International Solar Energy Society:

Solar power is on track to generate more electricity than all the world’s nuclear power plants in 2026 Than its wind turbines in 2027 Tthan its dams in 2028 Its gas-fired power plants in 2030 And its coal-fired ones in 2032.

In an IEA scenario which provides net-zero carbon-dioxide emissions by the middle of the century, solar energy becomes humankind’s largest source of primary energy—not just electricity—by the 2040s...

Expecting exponentials to carry on is rarely a basis for sober forecasting. At some point either demand or supply faces an unavoidable constraint; a graph which was going up exponentially starts to take on the form of an elongated S. And there is a wide variety of plausible stories about possible constraints...

All real issues. But the past 20 years of solar growth have seen naive extrapolations trounce forecasting soberly informed by such concerns again and again. In 2009, when installed solar capacity worldwide was 23gw, the energy experts at the IEA predicted that in the 20 years to 2030 it would increase to 244gw. It hit that milestone in 2016, when only six of the 20 years had passed. According to Nat Bullard, an energy analyst, over most of the 2010s actual solar installations typically beat the IEA’s five-year forecasts by 235% (see chart). The people who have come closest to predicting what has actually happened have been environmentalists poo-pooed for zealotry and economic illiteracy, such as those at Greenpeace who, also in 2009, predicted 921gw of solar capacity by 2030. Yet even that was an underestimate. The world’s solar capacity hit 1,419gw last year.

-via The Economist, June 20, 2024

--

Note: That graph. Is fucking ridiculous(ly hopeful).

For perspective: the graph shows that in 2023, there were about 350 GW of solar installed. The 5-year prediction from 2023 said that we'd end up around 450 GW by 2030.

We hit over 600 GW in the first half of 2024 alone.

This is what's called an exponential curve. It's a curve that keeps going up at a rate that gets higher and higher with each year.

This, I firmly believe, is a huge part of what is going to let us save the world.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Small glass house. No. Just, no. 2011 glass house in Lakeport, CA. 1bd, 1ba, $1.25M. Once again, NO. Also, the property is off-grid and powered by "highly efficient roof mounted solar panels with a separate battery bank and propane generator for reliable power."

For the price, you would think that they had electric shades or blinds.

But, they just have big, bulky gray draperies that you pull yourself.

The small kitchen looks mid-century modern, considering it was built in 2011.

The dining area.

Hmmm. The ceiling is metal.

There's also a table for two out on the deck.

Couch and coffee table facing the window.

Right next to the bedroom. Looks like the walls are glass, also.

I guess the home is minimalist, b/c all your stuff would be visible.

View from the bed.

Shower, toilet peeking out. I thought that it would be more enclosed.

The tub is outside.

I guess the Buddha's included.

Also, on the property is a metal building.

It's a guest house but the owner uses it as an office and home gym.

It has a nice bath.

And, a sauna.

Lamps bounce off the glass walls at night.

Lots of land- 64.54 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3312-Benmore-Valley-Rd-Lakeport-CA-95453/201509479_zpid/

[hezzabeth]

In this part of the story we are introduced to the concept of cousin siblings. We are also introduced to clone ethnic minorities. By the year 3856 A.D human cloning is common and legal in many parts of the solar system. Two centuries prior in the year 38337 A.D clones were given equal rights on Mars, the moons of Jupiter and the Pacifica Empire. Sibling cousins are cousins who happen to have clone parents. Twin cousins on the other hand are people whose clone parents reproduced with another set of clones. A clone ethnic minority are a group of people who descend from a single cloned person. The Bun clan for example descends from nine clones. By the year 3856 A.D the inner system census documented 23,000 members of the Bun clan. They are well known for their ability to speak to plants and their unique hair in different shades of pink.

"Is that the famous Lilyfield summer home? I read about it in my travel books!" She said with an eager whisper to Mrs. Bun.

"Oh yes! The flowers are open, which means the summer social season is on! They'll host a big ball for Apple day tomorrow," Mrs. Bun smiled.

"She wasn't like this before, she was acting all weird and prickly at the telehub," Revati whispered to Brigadeiro.

"Maybe she had a concussion? One time I had one, and I bought two dozen cupcakes, and then I smashed them all over that wall," Brigadeiro replied as they scooted past a pond and onto grass that appeared to be made of real gold.

Brigadeiro was pointing at a house perched right next to the golden grass lawn. Unlike the fantastic homes they had passed, the building Brigadeiro was pointing at was thankfully ordinary. The walls were painted bright white with navy trimmings. The space station's false holographic "sun" was beginning to set behind the pointy roof. Next to the house, there was another similar building, this one surrounded by a crowd of people.

"And that building?" Pauletta asked.

"Oh, that? That's just the family house," Mrs. Bun explained as they pulled to a stop. The crowd of people had all gathered around outdoor tables covered in platters of food.

"It's more than a family home; your mother would love this! Our house is almost three thousand years old," Brigadeiro explained, helping Revati out of the cart.

"Three thousand years old, shouldn't this place be in a museum?" Revati asked, staring at the house. Actual historical buildings from old Earth were rare.

"This place was built in Australia in the year 1810 by a sea captain who hunted some sort of monster called whales! It was called Collingwood House," Brigadeiro explained as several family members descended upon them.

"And now it's here? How?" Revati asked, completely shocked.

"When the space station was first opened, it had a museum, and this was part of it! Then when my great-grandpa got cloned, the Mill family gave him this place as a reward," Brigadeiro explained, ignoring all the relatives who were frantically asking him about the terrorist attack.

Within seconds, Revati found herself jostled and pushed away from Brigadeiro.

"Sit! Sit," someone shrieked, and Revati found herself sitting down at one of the tables. Two old ladies who almost looked like twins were sitting down fanning themselves. Their grey-streaked pink curls were pinned under massive yellow disc hats, and they were wearing matching yellow dresses.

"So you're the Martian then? I'm Auntie Saffron," said the old lady to the left with a birthmark on her nose said.

"Mars has over forty-six countries and territories; calling me 'the Martian' is like calling someone 'the alien,'" Revati replied, looking down at her bowl. The meal on it appeared to be some sort of savory stew garnished with apple slices.

"Hah, she has you there! I'm Auntie Magdalena! I have to apologize for my sister-cousin; she thinks us being the oldest family members gives us the right to be rude," the second old lady smiled.

Here's the corrected version of the text:

"Cousin sister?" Revati had to ask after taking a mouthful of the stew. The stew filled her mouth with earthy, spicy heat.

"Our fathers were clones who married clones, genetically we're sisters," Auntie Saffron said, studying Revati as she ate. "You can handle my daughter's gumbo; I thought it was far too spicy," she remarked.

"It's spicy? Really? Most food on Mars can melt through carpets when you spill it," Revati shot back, and Auntie Magdalena cackled.

"You're not going to scare this one off easily. I heard she saved Bridgadeiro's life three times," Auntie Magdalena said to her sister-cousin.

"Actually, we're up to five times. He fell into a ditch two months ago, and yesterday a hairdryer tried to strangle him," Revati admitted after drinking some apple.

"A hairdryer! Bubby! You never told your parents about that," Auntie Magdalena shrieked as Bridgadeiro sat down next to Revati holding a plate of muffins.

"Well, I was a bit distracted by the enemy attack and getting Revati here," Bridgadeiro replied.

"I don't know why your parents keep letting you run off to Mars! I've tried to discuss it with my nephew, but he keeps insisting you're an adult now," sniffed Auntie Saffron.

"I'm almost twenty-two! Also, I told you I need to complete three months of field research on a terraformed world for my doctorate," Bridgadeiro replied.

"Surely you must have finished it all by now! I thought once you inherited this place you'd be back," Auntie Saffron whined, raising a snooty eyebrow.

"So! What do you do?" Auntie Magdalena asked Revati, yelling over her sister-cousin.

"Do? Well, right now I'm eating..." Revati pointed out.

"She means what do you do to earn money; people ask that here a lot," Bridgadeiro said.

"Oh! I follow a ghost haunting an android about on her quest to find her long-lost daughter, who's also my sister," Revati explained, taking another spoonful of gumbo.

"How interesting! And where did you go to school? I heard that New Singapore has many fantastic universities," Auntie Saffron remarked dryly.

"My mother and her partner educated me in an abandoned Victorian doll museum," Revati replied, glaring back.

"Your mother educates you? So you don't have any vocational training?" asked Auntie Saffron.

Revati dropped her spoon on the table, staining the tablecloth.

"Before the appliance war, Revati's mother was a history teacher at one of the best schools in her country, and she's written an entire book about the appliance war," Bridgadeiro said, grabbing Revati's hand. "She did the best she could. Before Bridgadeiro came along, none of us could leave my home without risking freezing to death," Revati explained.

"Freeze to death? Really?" Auntie Saffron asked doubtfully.

"Yes, and if you were lucky to have a tent for protection, you still ran the risk of getting kidnapped by a wasteland gang," Revati added.

"That's how Revati and I met! She saved me from a group of actors that were going to kill me in a play," Bridgadeiro added.

"My word! What an interesting life your little friend leads!" Auntie Saffron drawled, and Bridgadeiro nodded towards their hands.

"She's far more than a friend, Auntie Saffron," Bridgadeiro replied coldly, and Auntie Magdalena giggled nervously.

"Why don't you go take Revati to the desserts? Your Mama is serving up her Tarte De Maca," Auntie Magdalena asked, gesturing to another table.

Was Bridgadeiro far more than a friend? It was a curious thing to consider. First of all, Revati only considered a few people, such as Aurora, Little Hardi, and her favorite feral child, as friends. Now that she thought about it, she had never slotted Bridgadeiro neatly into that category.

There were nights when he visited her on the road. Cold nights when the android switched herself off to charge, and they huddled together under a blanket playing Buggle on down. Nights where the game often ended in a way it never did with her actual platonic friends. There were warmer days where the android was waiting in some distant city for a new DNA trace. Revati and Bridgadeiro would wander the streets together, Bridgadeiro pointing out a particular rare plant. One time a band was playing music, and her head dropped against his head as they danced. Of course, it always ended the same way. The Android would detect a sample of Dityaa's DNA, and they would head out. Bridgadeiro would pack up as well and head back to his university. Sometimes he sent her messages. Sometimes she didn't hear from him for weeks. And then came the Diwali with Margarine.

Despite all that, she hadn't been able to file him into his proper place. Instead, he floated about in her subconscious, occasionally popping up in strange dreams.

Mrs. Bun gave her a sympathetic look as she handed Revati a plate. Vanilla, who was standing next to Mrs. Bun, shook their head with a knowing smile.

"Was Auntie Saffron bullying you? She made me cry three times during my first Apple day," Mrs. Bun said, handing another plate to Bridgadeiro.

"She brought up me coming back, then she called Revati's life interesting and referred to her as my little friend," Bridgadeiro said.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Bun winced, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.

"Don't worry, Auntie Saffron referred to me as Barley's coworker at our wedding," Vanilla reassured Revati.

"She called me the housekeeper at Bridgadeiro's color day," Mrs. Bun winced.

"And you just put up with that? If anyone spoke to me that way back home, I'd stun them until they smelled like fried hair," Revati remarked, glaring at Auntie Saffron.

Auntie Saffron merely waved at their table with a heavy-ringed hand.

"Stunning people is illegal here; it's a form of assault," Bridgadeiro explained.

"Is it? How annoying," Revati remarked, still glaring at Auntie Saffron.

For a fraction of a moment, her eyes traveled further toward the crystal pond. Someone was moving amongst the waist-length clear crystal reeds. Someone with mint-green skin dressed in gold. They turned towards the party. Revati's eyes, well-trained from spending years staring into the dark, saw familiar weedy features.

"Hang on, who's that?" Revati asked, pointing at the person as they disappeared into the reeds.

"No idea; must be a guest of Lord Mills! Sometimes they get lost and wander into the private staff areas," Bridgadeiro remarked.

Revati merely shook her head, putting the plate back on the table.

"I'll be right back," she said before running to the pond.

In the dim light the stranger looked exactly like the Duke of Io.

Lakes, ponds, and oceans always seemed vaguely sinister to Revati. She knew that on faraway distant worlds, people swam in the waters and surfed the waves. The only body of water in Olde Landon was a man-made river filled with melted snow. Before the invasion, tourists would ride on lantern boats across the clear waters.

Authentic "bathing machines" had been set up on the pebble-covered beach. After the invasion, Revati would use the machines as makeshift showers. They never went further than the shallows. Skeletons lay in the sunken darkness. After the appliances invaded, the dead had been thrown off the bridge into the water.

Revati found herself standing at the very edge of the pond. Up close, the translucent reeds were tall and sticky, brushing against her dress. Something moved in the purple twilight, and Revati spun around. "I know you're there! I saw you all the way up from the party," Revati hissed, and there was another rustling sound. "Leave us alone," a man's voice hissed, and Revati's hand anxiously grabbed her golden necklace. No weapons, no bandages, and no bits of string. "It's you, isn't it? The Duke of IO? Or at least the appliance pretending to be him," Revati remarked, pushing her way through the reeds.

The reeds suddenly parted, revealing the glimmering pond. "I'm not pretending to be anyone! I'm the Duke and an appliance; two things can be true," the Duke of IO snapped back, his voice hidden from a boat floating on the pond. "I don't care who you are! Take me to my sister," Revati said, stepping into the water so she could wade over to the boat. "She doesn't want to see you! We didn't even know you would be here," the Duke's voice snapped back, and Revati grabbed the boat, rocking the edge. "I can't drown you, idiot!" the Duke shrieked.

"No, but you can probably sink," Revati snapped back, rocking the boat again. "Stop it right now, Sissy!" Dityaa's voice yelled, and Revati glanced over her shoulder.

Revati often dreamed about what she would do if she finally found Dityaa. The dreams were often filled with suffocating rage. Sometimes she would follow her, demanding to know why she never came back, how she could do such an awful thing to their mother. But in the dim light of the pond, Revati now felt nothing more than the cold water lapping around her legs. Dityaa was watching her from the other side of the small pond.

A different, somewhat more fragile Dityaa, her body stooped over as if she was in pain. Revati let go of the boat and waded towards Dityaa. The water now reached her waist. Dityaa was wearing a loose white shirt and a pair of grey pants. Her feet were bare. "What did you do to her?" Revati screeched at the Duke. "I didn't do anything!" The Duke protested, glancing over the eye of the boat. "You kidnapped her! And now look, she isn't even wearing a dress!" Revati protested. Dityaa often claimed she was allergic to pants. "He didn't kidnap me! I ran away with him, and we got married," Dityaa wheezed. "You married him! I've been chasing you for four years because you got married?" Revati shrieked, unable to believe it.

But then a thought occurred to Revati. "You got married! You literally wore a wedding dress to Medieval Faire," Revati snapped, wading towards Dityaa. "I knew you wouldn't approve," Dityaa murmured, her eyes fluttering. "I can't believe you did this! You almost killed Nanni! It would have taken three seconds to message anyone saying you were alright," Revati snapped, and suddenly Dityaa sighed before collapsing face-first into the water. "Darling!" The Duke cried with relief. "My darling," she whispered back with a small smile. Her eyes shut again, and she began to loudly snore. "You better not have brought that bitch of a maternity droid with you," the Duke said, and Revati violently shook her head. "Are you talking about the ghost who's Dityaa's real mother? I left her on Mars," Revati and the Duke nodded as if relieved. "She needs a bed; expelling the energy can be exhausting," The Duke said. "I don't live here! I can't just magically pull a bed out of nowhere," Revati pointed out. "It's fine, we have plenty of room in the kitchen building," Bridgadeiro's voice called. "How much of that did you see?" Revati had to ask, "I saw everything, but I think the party just saw you running back to the lake with the pie," Bridgadeiro replied.

Dityaa had, of course, managed to get the best room in "the kitchen building". Once Mrs. Bun realized the strange unconscious girl was Revati's sick sister, she insisted upon it. The kitchen building turned out to be much larger than the actual house. "In ancient times, it was used as a sleeping area by convicts and to store meat; now we use it for extended family," Bridgadeiro explained. Mrs. Bun merely made tutting sounds as she tucked Dityaa into bed. The walls of the bedroom were covered in thick thorny rose bushes. Gigantic pink and red roses bloomed everywhere, scattering the floor with heavily scented petals. The bed was fitted with pale pink sheets and pillows. "Why the rose bushes?" Revati had to ask. "Roses are excellent at monitoring the health of sleeping people; if something happens to her, they'll alert us," Bridgadeiro explained, shutting the door.

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Destinytober24: Day 5 - Impasse

Battle couple firefight inside the Pale Heart: go!

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

"Go through the Impasse, he said." Two gunshots. "It's faster, he said." Two more gunshots. "There's hardly anything in there but a few Taken, he said." Three shots. "This is the last time I'm taking directions from that Awoken sneak." Three more shots. "New Vanguard, my ass." Two more shots.

The Drifter crouched so Eris could shoot what was behind him while he reloaded his hand cannon. Hers barked loud above him, taking out a Taken Captain in one headshot that would have taken him two. Her beads and charms tinkled lightly along the barrel with a pleasing sound.

"There is no way he could have known there would be two Subjugators. Never mind the combination of an Omen and a Harbinger," she said.

"They even fuckin' bowed to each other like they was about to dance when they showed up."

They ran forward together and both crouched behind a rusted car with a rounded roof, the seat cushions inside long since eaten away to dust. The other side of the vehicle clanged loudly as it was repeatedly impacted by a slap rifle.

"And yeah, there is a way he could have known! He's a Hunter! By definition he's supposed to be a good scout."

The Drifter ducked around the side of the rusted car, picked off two more hostiles with head shots and returned to crouching beside Eris.

"As am I." Two Grim flew up behind them. Eris shot them out of the air with clean precision before they could unleash their shouting attack.

"Yeah well you found 'em and he didn't. I guess that makes you the better Hunter now, doesn't i-"

The Drifter stopped talking as both he and Eris heard the sounds of something on the other side of the husk of the car they were crouching behind.

He touched her arm and, when she looked over at him, jerked his head to the side while holding up three fingers. She nodded.

The Drifter tossed a glacier grenade and the two of them tumbled and slid. The ground near them was puckered with small explosions as bullets missed them and they took cover behind the Stasis crystals springing up from the grenade.

"In his defence," Eris continued. "I have several centuries more experience."

"Then why aren't you in charge?"

A Psion-shaped Weaver wearing green armour landed behind them. Eris decapitated it with one swipe of her sword before it could shoot. The Drifter took out its partner by tossing one of his coins. It bounced off the Weaver with a loud 'Ding' just before it was immolated in a fireball. The Drifter caught the coin on the rebound.

"Over?" he asked, pointing.

"Over," she confirmed.

They both hopped the guard rails along what had once been the median of a highway and crouched behind a different vehicle. This one was on its side, its rusted undercarriage exposed.

"No Hunter wants to be in charge." Eris continued. "That's why it's a consequence of losing a dare." She peeked around a twisted bumper and took two more shots. Both landed, removing two more Taken Goblins. "I have my own niche, and I would find the bulk of the work insufferable and ill suited to my skills."

"You kiddin' me? Ain't never met a Hunter that didn't need fuckin' therapy."

The Harbinger to the left and ahead of them began shouting something in its guttural Dread tongue. Without looking, the Drifter flicked a coin off of his thumb up and over the vehicle. It made another loud 'Ding' and another fireball. The Harbinger yelled in what the Drifter assumed was either frustration or pain. The Drifter smiled.

Incandescent with Solar energy, the Harbinger stepped around the corner with its long legs and pointed its spear at both the Drifter and Eris Morn. Instinctually, they rolled to opposite sides, avoiding the Strand attack and following up with attacks of their own. The Drifter put several bullets into it while Eris dealt it a vicious uppercut with her sword. It crackled, briefly stunned by the Arc energy from the blade and she followed through with three more sword attacks as the Drifter pumped it full of precision shots, each one hitting something vital.

The Harbinger shouted angrily as it dissolved into a knotwork of orange-brown resonance-energy roots. An echoing yell from the Omen across the highway made it clear their position was now exposed. The Drifter jerked his head toward a different location behind a different car. Eris nodded from her crouched position and followed him as he ran.

"The need for therapy could be said of any guardian," Eris said as she rolled and ended up next to him, both their backs against a rusted car door. "We all experience great volumes of trauma. And I am easily found for those who need me, Hunters and otherwise. They need only come to the Moon."

The Drifter finished reloading his gun and then leaned across her, taking two shots and causing two more Taken Goblins to fall down twitching.

"The Moon. Which is full of nightmares, yeah. Great place. Very soothing."

"It can be soothing when it is quiet." Eris took out two more Taken with her hand cannon and took cover next to him again.

"If you mean five minutes after a battle when everything is dead, sure."

"If Luna has taught me anything," Eris leaned over to deliver her reply directly into his ear. "It is that the dead are not silent."

They heard more guttural shouting in the Dread language nearby.

The Drifter had no idea what the Omen was saying in Dread, but he was thankful it was doing them the favour of letting them determine where it was based on sound. He knew Eris would feel the same way since her sense of direction from sound was even better than his.

Stasis crystals burst around them as they burst from their hiding spot. Both returned fire with their own Stasis attacks. Eris managed to freeze it with Silence and Squall. The Drifter got in a well-placed coldsnap grenade with a nice wide area, refreezing anything that started breaking loose from Eris' freezing whirlwind. Then he began firing his machine gun from the hip, tearing up everything in the area as Eris emptied her hand cannon into the Psion-shaped, blue-armoured Omen, each shot landing.

Moments later the Stasis wielding Harbinger, along with all of its nearby Attendants, shattered. The rogue Lightbearer and the three-eyed witch were left in a faintly blue-glowing circle which crackled slightly as the large amount of lingering Stasis began to dissipate. The shards of what had once been their enemies crunched like ice chips under their boots.

The Drifter scanned the field for nearby enemies before licking his lips and winking at Eris with a small smile.

Eris smirked at him, performing her own visual examination of their surroundings.

"That building there," she pointed.

"You wanna go there?"

"Yes."

"That is nowhere where we're supposed to go. It is not even remotely in the same direction."

"Agreed. However, it will provide considerable cover and looks easily defensible. If you can guard the door, that may be all I require."

"All you require for what?" He slid his butt along the hood of a car, kicking both feet up and over to land on the other side as he followed her.

"A portal to the Ascendant plane."

"Oh, hell yeah. Then we can just walk right on by all this bullshit. Avoid the whole thing."

"Ideally, yes, although there may be Taken." Eris crouched behind another vehicle as she moved toward the building.

"I can handle Taken." The Drifter proceeded to shoot down three Taken Thralls near them in demonstration. "It's these new ones that are causin' all the problems. Blue ones freezing us is bad enough, but the green ones tossin' me around like a fuckin' yoyo is-"

Eris put her arm out just as the Drifter was about to step into a large hole next to her. Gravel skittered from his boots down. It fell a long way.

"The holes too," he continued. "And I thought the Tangled Shore was full of holes. This has more holes than that Gambit map I retired."

"Which one?" Eris asked as she hopped lightly with both feet up onto the roof of a rusted car and then down to the other side.

"The one they called the Piss map."

An involuntary chuckle escaped Eris' lips. The Drifter's eyes immediately lit up with glee at having made her laugh, then they reverted to snake-cold as a slap rifle bullet impacted the car next to him and he flattened himself to the broken pavement. More bullets impacted the busted concrete as he rolled to the side. Eris' hand cannon barked twice over the hood of a different rusted car and the shots raining down on the Drifter stopped.

He crouched, leaped, ran across a gap, and slid down next to her with a scowl on his face.

"I should bring that map back," he continued. "They been gettin' all whiny about 'Ooo! Lucent Hive is so much worse than Scorn! Ooo! Shadow Legion have too many turrets. Ooo! Ooo!'" The Drifter raised one hand empty and wiggled his fingers in the air every time he said 'Ooo!'.

Eris gave him a small smile as she leaned out and checked for snipers.

"Back to the Piss map, ya whiny babies," he concluded.

"You really are in a terrible mood today."

"Yeah, well, I don't like being dragged around on a green string and bashed against rocks, thank you very much." They ran together across another open stretch. Nothing shot at them this time.

"And I especially do not like them doing that to you. And, in particular, so close to a giant fucking pit, all right?" He tumbled through the doorway of the building Eris had pointed out and came to his feet, Trust out and ready to blow away anything inside. Seeing nothing he reached out a hand and motioned for her to join him inside.

"This was supposed to be super quick and easy," he said to her. "I did not bring enough weapons for this bullshit." He crouched near the door watching through it while Eris pulled out a sharp stone and began inscribing runes into an inner side wall, well away from the doorway. The runes glowed softly with green Soulfire.

"And our guns don't even do nothin' against the pink ones," the Drifter added, grumbling as he watched through the sight on his gun. "And you and I can't go pink like that hero. We should not have come here."

"You did not have to come with me," Eris said quietly as she worked, scratching malachite-wisps of magic into flakes of rusted metal. "I could have just done this myself."

"Oh, hell no."

Eris tilted her head to the side, still watching the edge of her stone as she completed the outer circle and the runes flared bright. "I'm confused as to how you would stop me."

He looked over at her sharply, fear in his eyes. "Moondust, I can't stop you doin' nothin'. You know that, but…"

Eris heard the strain in his voice. She looked over her shoulder at the Drifter's face and her lips parted with a quick intake of breath. "I have upset you."

She crouched down next to him, placing her hand on his arm. He tensed at her touch and then immediately relaxed a small amount. She kept her hand there, gripping him gently but firmly until he sighed, blinking as he looked out over the rocks and rusted vehicles, still watching for assailants.

"When I told you I'd miss the moonlight… I meant it." His voice was quiet. Sad.

Eris squeezed his arm.

"I'm here for you." He emphasised the word 'you' as he spoke. "Only thing that matters is… you," he said softly, looking back at her briefly with worried eyes before looking back out at the wreckage in the Impasse.

Eris leaned forward and kissed his temple.

He leaned his head against her lips, prolonging the contact.

"Do not be afraid," she said, watching as he internalised her words, drawing strength from them, breathing deeper, not fully relaxing, but less anxious.

And then his hand cannon shifted position and barked three times.

An explosion engulfed a nearby pile of rocks in flames.

Several Taken Thralls began running toward them from another direction.

Eris flicked her fingers. Her frozen Ahamkara bone whipped out and smacked into each one of them, back and forth like a pinball bouncing around one of the old physics gaming machines the Drifter had on his ship. It hit six of them, freezing them solid before speeding back toward her hand.

The Drifter shot the closest one and they all shattered.

"Yeah." He smiled and looked up at her as she caught her frozen ball. "We'll probably be alright."

A mechanical warbling chirrup ending in a loud metallic sproing echoed through the air. The Drifter's eyes went wide.

It was unmistakable. They both instantly recognized the sound of a Tormentor materialising somewhere nearby.

"You're fucking kidding me." the Drifter whispered in disbelief.

"Ascendent plane?" Eris asked, standing beside him, her back against the wall, holding out her hand.

"Hell yeah. Don't have to tell me twice. Let's go."

Link to the entire month's worth of prompts on Ao3, posted daily.

[xaz-fr]

A Leap of Magic 2/?

The engine room of the Windsinger’s Tale was an enormous space. Big enough to house lesser clans in and of itself. Great mechanical and magical machines ran in this place. In the darkness it was hard to see what exactly there was. The engine hadn’t run in decades, the only power was the most basic emergency power that still worked because it was magic. It lit up small running lights on the walkways but otherwise the shapes of the machines loomed darkly overhead. Except deep in the engine room a light burned. The Arcane Lift Generator hummed in intoxicating magenta and cyan magical light, casting long shadows out across the engine room.

Ars walked with no fear next to Nadalin. There was nothing in the ship that could harm him. Very little could at all.

They arrived at the ALG, a great glass container socketed into a clamp on the roof of the engine room. Magenta and cyan magic swirled lazily within the container, filling the entire thing with a homogeneous haze. Any indication that there was anything in the ALG was blocked by the magic mist.

Nadalin stepped up and put her claw on the curved glass of the container. “Hezen?” she asked, Ars barely could hear her even standing next to her.

The ALG changed almost instantly. The colored mist immediately started churning and coiling around itself. Ars pulled Nadalin’s claw off the glass nervously. The roiling magical mist started to condense and as it did items became visible in the bottom of the container, the shape of Hezen began to form. After only a few short moments the being known as Hezen fully materialized in the container, hovering on wings made of pure magic. While he still bore the shape of a dragon Hezen was a construct made of pure magic. His flesh was made of magic and you could see his magenta crystalline bones and his searing cyan eyes that glowed brightly in the darkness of the engine room.

“Nadalin, Ars,” he said as if he’d only spoken to them last week and not nearly a century ago.

“You’re alive,” Nadalin said softly.

Hezen cocked his head at her. “That’s an odd thing to say. I most certainly am not alive. But death doesn’t happen to things like me, I suppose,” he said and the translucent pink flesh around his mouth curled into something like a smile.

“How long have you been here?” Ars asked. “I didn’t know-

“You had other things to worry about,” Hezen said. “I did as you asked me. Then I flew up to see the stars and stayed there until the solar winds blew me apart. When I awoke again I was back here,” he motioned to the ALG.

“But the egg? It’s safe?”

“Yes. I will not tell you where, as you asked.”

“Right,” Ars said gruffly.

“Can you get out, Hezen?” Nadalin asked.

“The cloak Ars gave me was lost when I went to see the stars. So no. I cannot.”

“Can you— can you start the ship?”

“Of course,” and every machine in the engine room beeped as all the lights came on. The machines thundered to life, spinning up, power spooling and unspooling all around them. “So long as I live, so does the ship. Are we going somewhere?”

Ars looked at his sister who looked back at him. “No,” Ars said. “Power down please.”

“Oh,” and Ars turned off many of the engines. “I left some of them on for power inside the ship,” he said helpfully.

“That’s very good Hezen, thank you.”

“I just want to help,” Hezen said, looking at Nadalin.

“I know. It’s still Silent.”

“Even with both Progenitors back?”

Ars cast a look at his sister. “One is not quite there,” he said reluctantly. Nadalin would never be at her full strength after what he’d done. That egg had contained her essence. Or part of it at any rate. And by now it was probably a fully grown dragon with a life all her own.

“Ah. Of course. My mistake,” Hezen allowed.

“I’m glad you’re alive, Hezen,” Nadalin said softly.

“Me as well,” Hezen said in his delighted way. “Being as I am I am quite difficult to destroy.”

“We’ll come and visit more often,” Ars promised. “Now that we know you’re here.”

“That would be lovely. I could use an update on books. I hadn’t quite finished reading through the entire library,” he joked.

“You’re falling behind by the day I’m afraid. I’m still quite a few hundred books ahead of you,” Ars said.

Hezen’s glowing eyes narrowed playfully. “Then I insist you bring me some so I may keep up.”

“Let us,” Nadalin said, tugging on Ars’ sleeve.

“Hmm? Oh yes, of course. We were just at the library, we’ll go get some for Hezen. I can only imagine how bored you’ve been.”

“Hence why I was just smoke. I can’t be bored if I don’t know how to be,” he said.

Ars scoffed. “Of course. Come on Nadalin; lets go find some books for Hezen,” and she grabbed his claw as they left.

[novemberevenings]

what comes before night? | prologue

In the entire history of Prythian, there has only ever been three solar courts: Dawn, Day, and Night. But, on a seemingly random day, an island located closest to the Night Court suddenly makes itself known. No one knows who they are or where they come from but it cannot be any good. Especially when its power rivals that of all the courts, both seasonal and solar.

word count: 1215

a/n: hii everyone, this is the first ever fic im posting so please be kind :) This entire story came from the scenarios that I use before i sleep to entertain myself and i thought that it would actually make a pretty interesting series so here i am, sharing my bedtime scenarios to the world of tumblr. i hope you enjoy!

(This will be an Azriel and reader fic, but bear with me, it will take some time. I’m a huge fan of slow burn and angst so, obviously, that will be common themes in this series :)) 

----------------------------------------

You never realized how small your parents’ room was until now. Growing up, it had felt so spacious, like you could get lost between the crevices and gaps in the room. Now, you felt like the roof was closing in on you. Like the walls could suffocate you if you stayed there long enough. 

The room is still large, even now. But it’s lost its air of grandness that it had when you were younger. Now, it all feels a little more familiar. The tall ceilings and billowy curtains, the windows that are so big that so much light gets in. Walls that are smooth and are a sandy-colored beige. The setting sun sets the room in orange and pink hues, a beautiful blend of colors. A sharp contrast to the current atmosphere in the room.

It's quiet here. The only sounds are that of the people bustling about miles away, the ruffling of tissue, and your mother’s quiet sobs. You don’t realize you’re crying too until tear drops fall on your clasped hands with your father. 

“Y/N, look at me please,” your father rasps. It was not said as a command, though it very well could have been. You don’t think you could take it. Your younger brother is a comforting presence beside you, but centuries together could never prepare you for this moment.  

Despite that lingering ache, you look up anyway. A futile act, since you can barely see with your foggy eyes but you try. For your dad, the kind, compassionate, and loving father. The brave, cunning, and powerful High Lord of the Dusk Court. 

“My beautiful, brilliant daughter. How mighty you have become. You will be the best of us yet,” At this point, you don’t even bother trying to hold back the tears. However, you refuse to let out a sound, afraid you’d disrupt the moment. A comforting hand lands on your back, not knowing who it belongs to but accepting it all the same. “You must do what I never could. You must share our court with the rest of the world. Please, Y/N. It is the last thing I will ever ask of you.” 

“You know you never have to ask me to do anything right? You could just command me to do it, pull rank or something,” You say with a slight shrug and a watery smile. The attempt to lighten the mood works. Just a little. 

“I know. But to you, I will always be your dad. Never the High Lord. Plus, pulling rank means I would have to accept defeat. And you know I never lose.” A slight smile pulls at your father’s lips. 

You chuckle at the sass, on the brink of death and still, he decides to have an attitude. Matching teary smiles can be seen in the room. But your dad drops his smile once more, his face going serious again. “Promise me.” 

“I promise, dad. I will share the beauty and knowledge of our court with the world. We will never hide again while the rest go to ruin. I promise. Everyone will know of your greatness, I swear this to you” You whisper, afraid that if your voice gets any louder he would hear the cracks in it. 

“I’m not doing this for praise or commendations, witchling. I want to help people. Even when I’m gone.” A cough follows the statement, your brother helps adjust the pillows again to make him feel more comfortable. 

“You will. You’ve helped so many people, dad. So many.” 

At this point, you could all feel it. The slow, agonizing, feeling of someone’s life drifting away. Your chest hurts, you think rubbing it would help ease the ache but it does not. You all huddle closer to the bed. Your brother goes in first, lowering his forehead to your father’s. Words are exchanged between them, likely the last ever words that will be shared between the two. When your brother lets go, his eyes are more bloodshot than before. 

Your mother goes next, forehead dropping to your father’s, sobs making her shoulders shake. This, you think to yourself, has to be the worst sight you have ever seen. Fields littered with fallen soldiers, severed limbs, or bloody swords are nothing compared to this. Two mates, saying their final goodbyes. Never to be with each other again. 

You look away when your father kisses your mother, the sight too painful, you can’t even imagine how your mom feels right now. You realize that you’ll never have the chance to tease them every time they kiss, your father saying he doesn’t care and kissing your mom again. Secretly, your heart bursts with joy every time he does so, knowing that you were fortunate enough to have parents who love each other and grow up surrounded by so much love. 

He tells her that he loves her very much and you think you must have heard your heart literally break when you hear him say that he’ll wait for her, forever if he has to. You wonder if your mother will ever be the same again. 

You get the last turn and you almost run out of the room to prevent yourself from breaking entirely. Almost. Instead, you shuffle forward a little. You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands, then you drop your forehead to your father’s at last. 

“I love you, my Y/N. You will be great. Far greater than I. You will make history. You will be the one who finally changes the ways of our court. I know it.” You shut your eyes tight in an attempt to stop your tears from flowing down your cheeks. “Keep your promise to me. Never forget what I taught you. And in your moments of doubt, know that I’m never too far away, yes?” 

“Yes, dad. I promise. I won’t forget. I love you. Please stay. I love you.” 

Lifting your head up, you weave your fingers through your dad’s, one last time. Your mother clasps onto his forearms and your brother squeezes his other hand. With one last smile at all of you, your father closes his eyes. 

You all can sense the shift in the room. The loss of one of the greatest and most powerful High Lords ever in history. The loss of your greatest mentor, your biggest supporter, your father. 

Then after the painful silence, you feel it. The power, all-consuming, raw, and magnificent, rushes into you all at once. You let out a gasp, standing up from the bed, walking to the window, then bending over again while holding on to the wall for dear life. Your eyes are shut tight and your breathing is labored. After taking a few moments to come to, to regulate your breathing and adjust to this new power, you straighten again. 

Both your mother and brother hold eye contact with you for a second. Awe and reverence lines their faces. Then they both get off the bed, take a few steps towards you, then stop within a foot left from you. 

Then they kneel. 

You’re frozen to your spot, the sight so foreign that you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Long live the High Lady of the Dusk Court.”

[jerseydeanne]

Starlink, YAY!

SMH, I spent 5 hours on mostly hold with Xfinity and Century Link yesterday, and what a big pain in the Arse!

Century Link tried to sell me a TV package, and the next guy told me I would get 10 instead of 500. We stream so that's as useless as a bull with tits.

When the SHTF I want to stay connected.

Now, to get solar panels for my roof. Maybe Elon's package is better?

[music-addiction-disorder]

Great Temple of Ramses II 

Abu Simbel, Egypt, Africa

... looks familiar ?

Carved out of the mountain on the west bank of the Nile between 1274 and 1244 BC, this imposing main temple of the Abu Simbel complex was as much dedicated to the deified Ramses II himself as to Ra-Horakhty, Amun and Ptah. The four colossal statues of the pharaoh, which front the temple, are like gigantic sentinels watching over the incoming traffic from the south, undoubtedly designed as a warning of the strength of the pharaoh.

Over the centuries both the Nile and the desert sands shifted, and this temple was lost to the world until 1813, when it was rediscovered by chance by the Swiss explorer Jean-Louis Burckhardt. Only one of the heads was completely showing above the sand, the next head was broken off and, of the remaining two, only the crowns could be seen. Enough sand was cleared away in 1817 by Giovanni Belzoni for the temple to be entered.

From the temple’s forecourt, a short flight of steps leads up to the terrace in front of the massive rock-cut facade, which is about 30m high and 35m wide. Guarding the entrance, three of the four famous colossal statues stare out across the water into eternity – the inner left statue collapsed in antiquity and its upper body still lies on the ground. The statues, more than 20m high, are accompanied by smaller statues of the pharaoh’s mother, Queen Tuya, his wife Nefertari and some of his favourite children. Above the entrance, between the central throned colossi, is the figure of the falcon-headed sun god Ra-Horakhty.

The roof of the large hall is decorated with vultures, symbolising the protective goddess Nekhbet, and is supported by eight columns, each fronted by an Osiride statue of Ramses II. Reliefs on the walls depict the pharaoh’s prowess in battle, trampling over his enemies and slaughtering them in front of the gods. On the north wall is a depiction of the famous Battle of Kadesh (c 1274 BC), in what is now Syria, where Ramses inspired his demoralised army so that they won the battle against the Hittites. The scene is dominated by a famous relief of Ramses in his chariot, shooting arrows at his fleeing enemies. Also visible is the Egyptian camp, walled off by its soldiers’ round-topped shields, and the fortified Hittite town, surrounded by the Orontes River.

The next hall, the four-columned vestibule where Ramses and Nefertari are shown in front of the gods and the solar barques, leads to the sacred sanctuary, where Ramses and the triad of gods of the Great Temple sit on their thrones.

The original temple was aligned in such a way that each 21 February and 21 October, Ramses’ birthday and coronation day, the first rays of the rising sun moved across the hypostyle hall, through the vestibule and into the sanctuary, where they illuminate the figures of Ra-Horakhty, Ramses II and Amun. Ptah, to the left, was never supposed to be illuminated. Since the temples were moved, this phenomenon happens one day later.

[tergwearrow]

The Solar Saga

So….. This post has been a long time coming.

NO, IT'S NOT BAD, I SWEAR!

This is the final post of the Solar Panel Saga, a grueling process which took far longer than it should.

SO.

Let us.

BEGIN!

For those of you that do not know, I'm homeless, living in a van. Not by choice, but hey, what can you do?

As a normal adult in the 21st century, I need power.

As a normal adult in a van from 1998, I can't rely on the engine to do it. So I had been thinking of something like this even since I first ended up homeless. but I believed all the solutions for this were impossibly expensive.

then, in February 2024, I found the BOX!

for just ten dollars plus shipping, I could control a solar panel. it seemed like magic! like a Sign! so I purchased it. Along with what proved to me a dramatically inadaquate solar panel, although I didn't know that at the time.

this led eventually to the search for a batter system that would work, and I already had the perfect idea in mind.

in my local (unnamed for legal reasons) big box store, in the marine section, was a battery box with a built-in system of outlets. TWO 12v DC automotive ports! TWO USB Connections! one USB-C and one USB-A! a BREAKER! and a HIGH-POWER EXTERNAL WING NUT CONNECTION DIRECTLY TO THE BATTERY!!!

It was perfect. and only 30ish bucks. the problem, was the battery.

Batteries are expensive. the battery I needed was a Deep Cycle battery, a type of lead-acid battery designed for long charge and discharge cycles. such a battery is a fairly niche item. I didn't and in fact couldn't find one in my big box store. so. I waited for my next paycheck, and went in search of a battery.

turns out ten seconds of googling found a battery store, like, a half mile from my usual parking spot. lol.

with much consternation and a great deal of money ($160is all told) I had my battery. Extensive testing would confirm its functioning in the box.

Now, a PANEL!

In days of Old, when Men were Bold, and whiskey was far, FAR cheaper: solar panels sucked. and were really expensive. when last I had looked into the idea a decade or more before, the best panels were hundreds to thousands of dollars and, while they generated useful power, were finicky about light conditions. then I discovered Mono-Crystal panels, and was amazed. 50 watts for 64 dollars. just over a dollar a watt. larger panels were even cheaper: 1000w of panels came to barely $800! incredible! said I, this would be no problem at all! Until i membered. I'm homeless.

Fuck.

While technically I have a mailing address, that address is at a homeless support place (where you can shower, and do laundry, and get meals, rather than sleep), which is infamous for questionable support staff, long wait times, and not the best service in the world. so.

Shipping a large, expensive, fragile piece of equipment there was a no-go.

then I saw the hardware store I was buying it from had ship to store.

YAY, COVID! (bout the only good thing to come from the Plague. or maybe before? idk.)

So I shipped it there, picked it up, and now was the time to Mount it to the roof!

And this, is where my troubles Truly Began.

At first, I thought to magnet the thing to the roof, so I bought some magnets.

NOPE!

Fiberglass

Then I thought to screw it in.

NOPE!

Couldn't get a drill in the panel

Suction cup?

NOPE!

not strong enough

Glue?

NOPE!

Wasteful, infective, and long cure time

fuck the whole business?

NOPE!

Still need power!

So. after weeks of waiting for money and days off to try shit, I decided on a plan:

Get some Plywood Glue it to the roof get some metal glue it to the board magnet panel to metal.

easy, simple, I need a stepladder, but I can just go to the hardware store, buy then return one. so I got to work.

the glue didn't hold the metal. or the wood very well, for that mater.

so, I relented, bought some screws, a drill, and some drill bits, and on the evening of May 28, 2024, finally saw my dream of solar power through.

it's the end of June now, and my little panel has done well. the metal is rusted orange, the wood is curved and warped, the magnets hold steady, and duct tape keeps the wires out of the doors.

But.

I'm typing this on a laptop powered by solar. and that's Damn Good.

The Panel, Herself.

I’m poor, Homeless, and jobless, please give me money, so I don't starve!

[veale2006-blog]

Kepler's Universe

Tuesday, May 28, 2024

The Dance of the Heavenly Circles

17th century astronomer Johannes Kepler, troubled by his friend who denied the existence of God and maintained that the universe came into existence by itself, constructed a model of our solar system. Upon seeing it, his friend exclaimed, "How beautiful! Who made it?" Kepler replied, "No one. It made itself." "Nonsense," said his friend. "Tell me who made it." Kepler then said, "Friend, you say that this little toy cannot make itself? It's but a weak imitation of this great universe, which I understand you believe did make itself." No one in their right mind would have believed that Kepler's model made itself any more than one could believe that a car could manufacture itself. Yet, according to many scientists, the universe came into existence by accident, and so did human life. You're here because of God, and your life has a great purpose. The Creator also said concerning you, "I know the plans I have for you... plans for welfare and not for calamity, to give you a future and a hope."

Today's Mission

Rest assured in the fact that your life was not an accident and God has a purpose for you. Live each moment today as one who was created for the high purposes of God.

Exodus 9:16

16 And in very deed for this cause have I raised thee up, for to shew in thee my power; and that my name may be declared throughout all the earth.

Strike Seven: Hail

God said to Moses, “Get up early in the morning and confront Pharaoh. Tell him, ‘God, the God of the Hebrews, says: Release my people so they can worship me. This time I am going to strike you and your servants and your people with the full force of my power so you’ll get it into your head that there’s no one like me anywhere in all the Earth. You know that by now I could have struck you and your people with deadly disease and there would be nothing left of you, not a trace. But for one reason only I’ve kept you on your feet: To make you recognize my power so that my reputation spreads in all the Earth. You are still building yourself up at my people’s expense. You are not letting them go. So here’s what’s going to happen: At this time tomorrow I’m sending a terrific hailstorm—there’s never been a storm like this in Egypt from the day of its founding until now. So get your livestock under roof—everything exposed in the open fields, people and animals, will die when the hail comes down.’”

Have a blessed day and week.

May Yeshua Hamashiach bless you,

Love, Debbie

[queercontrarian]

i’m sorry

“You cannot expect the Spring Court to keep groveling at your feet for the rest of eternity,” Yllka scoffed, staring down each High Lord individually, glaring especially hard at the factions of the Solar Courts, “Why do we still have to beg forgiveness for sins we have not committed and hope for your goodwill when people in the Seasons are dying?” The desperation in his second’s voice had Tamlin’s fists clench helplessly. He hated these meetings, and he hated the role his Court was forced into when they had been fighting so hard to rebuild. It was Rhysand who finally spoke up.

“Honestly, begging for forgiveness is the least you could do. The Mother knows your High Lord still owes us quite a few apologies,” the male drawled, his voice cold and even. He didn’t think anyone else except maybe Feyre or his brothers could hear the barely repressed anger, the wound as fresh and painful as ever just below the surface. It might have been useful to be able to read a rival so reliably, but mostly it just hurt. Not quite strangers, not quite enemies. Oh, he knew exactly what the male was referring to. Nearly four centuries had passed since the murder of their families, but every time they found themselves near each other it felt like it happened yesterday. History that could never heal, no matter how much time passed. Rhysand would forever punish his people for Tamlin’s mistakes and he was so over it, he was so tired. Too tired to care anymore despite still caring way too much. Yllka, Eallair and all the others could work as hard as they wanted, he could remove himself as much from the Spring Court as he wanted to, Rhysand wouldn’t get over his hatred for Tamlin enough to not spite innocent Spring fae, to separate him from his folk, from his friends, his officials, even Lucien who hadn’t visited him without an order from Night to do so in years. He could feel the anger and disappointment well up in him, the urge to smack some sense into the other male, or even just smack him for the sake of it. To get Tamlin to lose his composure would be exactly what Rhysand wanted. And unfortunately, in this moment it was exactly what Tamlin wanted too.

“Oh, well if it’s an apology you’re after,” he snarled, stepping in front of Yllka “Have your apology: I’m sorry you ever approached me in the first place.” Cassian and Azriel rose at the same time Rhysand did when he made another step into the circle of fae, towards the other High Lord. It was barely a threat, not under Thesan’s roof. The magic prevented any real fighting to occur and would put any who sought to do physical harm down quickly. Rhysand, knowing this too, bid his brothers to stand down. 

“I’m sorry you continued to pursue me despite everyone telling you it was a terrible idea. I’m sorry our fathers were the worst males to ever walk this cursed continent and I’m sorry we dared to become friends anyway. I’m sorry for understanding you, I’m sorry for wanting to keep you around. I’m sorry you believe only what you want to believe.” Tamlin saw Lucien move in from the side, but he couldn’t stop himself from stalking towards the Night Court seats, pulled by the same invisible thread that had Rhysand moving to him. “I’m sorry you made choices you regret and I’m sorry other people paid the price for our actions. I’m sorry I didn’t run fast enough. I’m sorry my brothers found me and dragged me back to Harthforst gagged and bound.” His voice hitched, his claws rapidly breaking out and retracting at the memory he’d tried so hard to repress. Rhysand just stood, mere feet away from him, and stared, unable or unwilling to say anything. All the better, since Tamlin couldn’t stop himself from continuing, and if he was getting louder, if everyone in Dawn heard, if by the next day all of Prythian knew his pathetic story, well his image had been ruined for a long time anyway. “I’m sorry my father chained me up in his cursed cellar, torturing me for days, and I’m sorry I held out until my mother came back. I’m sorry she was so selfish to not want her son to die at the hands of his father, I’m sorry she told my father everything I knew. I’m sorry I followed them to Illyria as soon as I could stand, I’m sorry for tracking them down, I’m sorry for killing your sister before my brothers could do worse to her than just take her wings.” His gaze was clear, glued to his face, and for a moment it felt like it was only them in the room. “I’m sorry I left my dagger behind for you to find, so you’d know who did it. I’m sorry for getting locked in my room because I wouldn’t stop screaming until I couldn’t anymore. I’m sorry you didn’t kill me when you had the chance.” Tamlin leant in closer, their noses nearly touching, green and violet eyes locking when he whispered “I’m sorry I loved you and I’m sorry you loved me back.” 

[pirateswhore]

oh hook would be SO into medicine ans science. Blood types weren't discovered until the 20th century during wwi really so maybe he loses some blood doing something and he's like well, I've seen enough people die of blood loss to know this is the end, only to find out about blood types and blood transfusion and loses his fucking mind

he would be a science bro through and through.

Henry or Emma come down with a cough or flu, and killian is immensely worried about them (because he's seen people die from TB within days) but the hospital just gives them some meds and they're better in like a day or two. he's like ?? WOW ?

and then he finds out ab organ transplants ?? and cancer treatment ?? and all the ways medicine and science helps people ?? (he probably cries when he finds out about actual, WORKING prosthetics)

it would probably start with him just trying to learn about modern technology so he can better adapt to living in the world, but then he goes down ADHD hyperfocus rabbit hole, and suddenly, he's all about nuclear power and green energy. he talks Emma's ear off about a recent cancer research breakthrough. he has them install solar panels on the roof (you mean you can make power from the sun ?? for free ? fuck YEA). he makes sure Henry and hope are up to date with their shots (hell he reminds snow and David to vaccinate neal regularly). one of the dwarves make an "earth is flat" or "climate change is fake" comment and he rolls his eyes at their stupidity. suddenly he's gone from not understanding how any technology works to correcting people when they get facts wrong.

i just feel like it'd be very heartwarming to have seen him be absolutely amazed at how far the world has come (as shitty as this world is, I'd argue the quality of life is immeasurably better than in the 1600s) and all the technology that people take for granted.

[quotesfrommyreading]

For many decades, the American government has focused overwhelmingly on discovery rather than deployment. After World War II, Vannevar Bush, the architect of our thrillingly successful wartime tech policy, published an influential report, “Science: The Endless Frontier,” in which he counseled the federal government to grow its investment in basic research. And it did. Since the middle of the 20th century, America’s inflation-adjusted spending on science and technology, through the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation, has increased by a factor of 40.

But the government hasn’t matched that investment in the realm of implementation. This, too, was by design. Bush believed, with some reason, that politicians should not handpick nascent technologies to transform into new national industries. Better to advance the basic science and technology and let private companies—whose ears were closer to the ground—choose what to develop, and how.

You could say that we live in the world that Bush built. “The federal government, through NIH and NSF, pours billions into basic science and defense technology,” Daniel P. Gross, an economist at Duke University, told me. “But for civilian technology, there has been a view that Washington should fund the research and then get out of the way.”

As a result, many inventions languish in the so-called valley of death, where neither the government nor private ventures (risk-averse and possessed by relatively short time horizons) invest enough in the stages between discovery and commercialization. Take solar energy. In 1954, three American researchers at Bell Labs, the R&D wing of AT&T, built the first modern solar-cell prototype. By 1980, America was spending more on solar-energy research than any other country in the world. According to the Bush playbook, the U.S. was doing everything right. But we lost the technological edge on solar anyway, as Japan, Germany, and China used industrial policy to spur production—for example, by encouraging home builders to put solar panels on roofs. These tactics helped build the market and drove down the cost of solar power by several orders of magnitude—and by 90 percent in just the past 10 years.

  —  Why the Age of American Progress Ended

[headmistressdelecaille]

ALE BOLIVAR VICENTE SANCHEZ'S OFF-CAMPUS HOME

A villa on two acres of private property, including a stretch of private beach. The property is clearly owned by someone serious about security, judging by the privacy fence that surrounds the land on all sides but the beachfront and the biometric scanner at the only gate. Much of the land is allowed to grow wild and natural, with only the area directly around the house cut back, the landscaping artfully blending into its surroundings. The home itself is simple, natural, and modern. Slide-away glass walls provide access to open air, while teak panels wrap the second story in airy balconies. Portholes look out on a pergola-covered terrace with living and dining areas, as well as a pool. The space is comfortable, but practical and utilitarian. The master bedroom is distinguishable from the other four only by its king-size bed, and the only nods to entertainment besides the pool are a fully restored 1927 Steinway Model L piano, and a single magically enhanced glass wall in the living area which can be converted into a television screen at the touch of a button. Though the house is simple and almost technophobic in some ways–all rooms but the bedrooms forgo air-conditioning in favor of large ceiling fans, for example–all of the lights and appliances in the home are wired into a single, custom smart house system. A spiral staircase provides access to the roof, which is home to several solar panels on one side and a small roof-top garden on the other.

WHY DID YOUR MUSE CHOOSE THIS HOME?:

Ale had never even considered moving out of the suites before the island was attacked. Everything he owned on the island was lost in the destruction of the dormitory building. This wasn’t a particularly meaningful loss emotionally or financially–Ale is a very rich man who stores his significant possessions very securely, after losing centuries of his life because he was careless–but it annoyed him, and while he is suitably impressed with the new headmistress and her ability to secure the island, he’s decided he’d feel better adding his own security on top of hers if he’s going to make this island his home. He chose to build on private land in North Shore mostly because he values his privacy and his peace; the out of the way location and security make it unlikely he’ll be disturbed, and the untamed portion of the land allows him room to run in fox form.

PURCHASE OR RENTAL: Purchase NUMBER OF BEDS & BATHS: 5 beds, 5 and a half baths LOCATION: North Shore OCCUPANTS: Ale Bolivar, his cat, and any future claims

[doom-dreaming]

Blue Team Beach House: Overview

So you're a supersoldier in the UNSC and you're being ordered to take mandatory R&R and for the first time in his life, your squad leader doesn't finagle some way to avoid this. But you're sick of being shipped off to places that aren't built for you (because there was that one time you broke a whole couch) but the UNSC hasn't gone out of its way to make a vacation resort for Spartans (because when do they ever go on vacation, right? Ha.) And you're sitting on a lifetime of hazard pay, more money than you know what to do with, but hey...actually, this time you do know what to do with it. You're gonna build a house on the prettiest white sand beach in the galaxy, specifically for you and your Spartan siblings because if the brass is forcing you to take some shore leave, then goddamn it, you're gonna take that literally.

Welcome to the (actual, official) series of Blue Team Beach House posts. If you made it through that whole opening paragraph and still don't know what I'm talking about: I want Blue Team to fucking relax, so I imagined a (beautiful, unrealistic) timeline in which they'd be able to custom-build a vacation home to use when they need a break (and to eventually retire to? Like I said, unrealistic).

The idea is that they'd do their best to tailor it to their own preferences and truly make a place designed by and for Spartans. And then I started thinking about this so hard I had to build the dang thing in Sims. So that's what this is. It's me showing off pics of a fun beach house build and bullshitting about why the architecture and design are (mostly) Spartan-Approved(tm) based on what we know about them from Halo canon. And if you're wondering, yeah, I do things like this for fun more frequently than you'd think.

CONSIDERATION 1: LOCATION

Spartans are always thinking strategy. They can't turn it off. So naturally, if they were making a place where they'd be relaxing - somewhere they'd have their guard down - they'd want it to be naturally, geographically safeguarded, in case there were an attack (hey, you never know). What's better than a narrow strip of land from the front and a reef in the back to discourage access from the water? They wanted to have an anti-aircraft missile system on the roof, but their design team said no. They settled for solar panels instead. (Note that the roof edging the third floor is also made of solar paneling. We know green energy is standard in the 26th century.)

CONSIDERATION 2: FUNCTIONAL ARCHITECTURE AND EFFICIENT USE OF SPACE

They might have the funds to make this a reality, but that doesn't mean they're going to build superfluous balconies when they can just use the roofs of the floors below for deck space. It keeps things compact without being cramped.

Also, see those pretty wood slat facade pieces on the corners of the first and second floor? Not only are they a nice design touch, but they're also makeshift ladders. Need to get to the roof very quickly from the outside? Climb the fucking walls. Let's be honest, they'd do this for fun.

CONSIDERATION 3: OUTDOOR SOCIAL AREAS

It's canon that John is a little claustrophobic. Yeah, he can fight it off, but he doesn't like spaces that are too small for him. I'd venture a guess that this is common for most Spartans, just by virtue of them being nearly seven feet tall. That said, given the options, I think they'd much rather be outside than inside, even if that inside was built to their standards of comfort. What's better than a nice big porch to hang out on and enjoy the gorgeous tropical weather?

Glass railings keep their view open and unobstructed - great for defense (again, you never know). The furniture is sturdy, either sculpted metal or durable wood (with the exception of some pieces that don't have to support a Spartan's-worth of weight). These themes will show up in other areas of the house, too.

Oh, and the vertical wall planter in the corner? Strawberries. What's better than a self-sustaining food source to cut down on trips into the city for groceries? This is only the tip of the iceberg on edible plants, by the way. Just wait.

Things stay well-lit at night, because even though they can see near-perfectly in the dark, it's easier to relax when you know what you're looking at. And while those palm trees are nice landscaping, they're also great for climbing (and coconuts).