#LRL

[infinifi]

Hope everybody had a lovely Christmas!

[rompeprotones]

My LRL art from newest to oldest❤️💙

(except for the last one one which is in the last post, and the first one that I can't bare to see because it's too ugly🫣)

[frogshunnedshadows]

Neil Armstrong celebrates his 39th birthday August 5, 1969, while in medical quarantine at the Lunar Receiving Laboratory in Houston.

I was delighted to see this (silent) film footage of the event:

Note that Mike and Buzz are present as well, and their families are on the other side of the glass wall.

[luvsaroundtheworld]

Have you ever read a book that left a lasting impact on you?

In today’s world, books have become an integral part of our lives. They not only provide us with knowledge and entertainment but also have the power to influence and impact our lives. As an avid reader, I have come across many books that have left a lasting impression on me. However, there are three books in particular that have truly impacted my life and I’d love to share them with…

[papyrus-14567]

doodle's:D

Hopefully tumbler doesn't ruin the quality

[farsight-the-char]

River Temple LRL? Probably not Idoneth, looks more "Kung-Fu Fighting Magics" stuff LRL do.

Seahorse Helm. Probably a Warcry box vs Nighthaunt.

I think that is actually a big chemical censer mace thing, tying into those recent Chemistry/Alchemist Nighthaunt teases.

[betweenlands]

i wish the video embedding on this site allowed me to embed yt clips specifically because i need to show you guys a specific fixxitt clip

[lotuscirilo]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LRL Lauren Ralph Lauren Pants Ankle High Waist Tartan Plaid Red Blue Women’s Size 12 Stretch New With Tags 

[podcasts-8-my-heart]

Cooking so I can write for a couple hours.

[eternallovers65]

CELLBIT SEU CEGO PELO AMOR DE DEUS VC ACABOU DE PASSAR VOLTA VOLTAAAAAA

[lonestarflight]

The HS-4 Sikorsky SH-3 Sea King 'old 66' landing on the flight deck of USS HORNET (CVS-12) before it was moved down to the hanger deck.

"Donned in biological isolation garments, the Apollo 11 crew members, (L-R) Edwin Aldrin, Neil Armstrong (waving), and Michael Collins exit Old 66, the recovery pick up helicopter, to board the USS. HORNET (CVS-12) after splashdown."

"The Apollo 11 crewmen, wearing biological isolation garments, arrive aboard the USS Hornet during recovery operations in the central Pacific. They are walking toward the Mobile Quarantine Facility (MQF), in which they will be confined until they arrive at the Manned Spacecraft Center's (MSC), Lunar Receiving Laboratory (LRL). Apollo 11, with astronauts Neil A. Armstrong, commander; Michael Collins, command module pilot; and Edwin E. Aldrin Jr., lunar module pilot, onboard, splashed down at 11:49 a.m. (CDT), July 24, 1969, about 812 nautical miles southwest of Hawaii and only 12 nautical miles from the USS Hornet to conclude their historic lunar landing mission."

Date: July 24, 1969

source, source

U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command: Apollo 11 Recovery Photo 11

NASA ID: 6900595, S69-41573, link, 6901201, 6901225, 6900607

[frogshunnedshadows]

Apollo 11 astronaut Neil Armstrong slices up his 39th birthday cake while still in medical quarantine at the Lunar Receiving Laboratory after returning from the moon, August 5, 1969, Houston, Texas.

The Apollo 11 astronauts were quarantined immediately after splashdown on July 24, and were released from quarantine on August 10.

For more about the LRL and quarantine, see the following links:

[luvsaroundtheworld]

What Motivates You?

Have you ever wondered what motivates people to do the things they do? Some folks are driven by the thrill of competition, while others are motivated by the challenge of overcoming obstacles. And then there are those who simply love the joy of learning and exploring new things. For me, it’s a combination of all three. I love the rush of adrenaline that comes with a good competition, whether it’s…

[kayla-and-the-moon]

secrets baked in gingerbread !

🎄plot: nothing, just baking gingerbread cookies with neil. lrl the plot. a sprinkle of sneaking around welton (suck it nolan)

🎄tw: none !! pure fluff (i didn't proofread yet sigh)

🎄pairing: gn! reader x neil perry ! established relationship !

In hindsight, maybe sneaking in through the window wasn't your brightest idea.

you clambered through, falling onto the ground in a pile of limbs and winter coat in the dark.

you shrug it off as you stand upright now, a bit shivery, but nonetheless with all your wits intact.

your eyes roam the empty room, darkness doing little to ease your apprehension over the shapeless shadows that could very well be pots, but to a mind with four hours of sleep due to an algebra test, they could be the stuff of the middle school ghost stories the boys conjured up in the cave.

so, what were you doing exactly?

well, one fateful evening, with your head in Neil's lap as he read against one of the ancient willow trees in Welton's lawn, you began pondering. Pondering hard.

Christmas was coming up, the holiday had meant much to you, however Neil's opinion of it wasn't exactly measured up.

his Christmases were nothing memorable, except starchy family dinners, scarce gifts, and tightlipped thank yous when he unwrapped yet another book about pharmaceuticals, neurosurgery, cardiology- .

"what do you mean you've never baked gingerbread before ?" your aghast disbelief and fuelled hatred for his father had launched the current strategy a few days before the holiday.

with some convincing pleas, promises to help him rehearse lines for his next play, and eyes alight with the shimmery sparkles of pure imploring, 'If you say no, you clearly have no regard for my feelings' - he'd agreed.

you'd hatched up a scheme, Neil had assured you the kitchen windows of Welton were always kept open, and the latches were rusty and broken. seriously, for a prep school, your parents kept gushing over and wishing you'd been able to go to, the security could use some work.

you'd tucked the necessary ingredients stolen from your parents' pantry under your coat in a tiny paper bag. the next step was Neil sneaking down from his dorm room.

It was the dead of night, so the chances of patrolling teachers were minimal, but for all you knew from Hellton horror stories, Nolan was the lightest of sleepers and would rise like some mummified supervillain to grab at Neil's ankles and-

you shrieked in a whisper, as the lights of the kitchen came on, whirling around, expecting to be met with a grim-faced Hager and to be dragged to the principal's office (even though you didn't even go here the thought was still terrifying).

instead, you're met with a grin you know all too well that immediately stops your knees from knocking together and your wide-as-saucer eyes to return to a normal diameter.

"Did I scare you, Rudolph?" Neil teases, nodding to your florid nose, as he pads in, all blue plaid pajamas, mussed brown hair, and grey slippers as he stands by the light switch with a smug grin slapped on his face, something that Charlie would've been proud of.

your eyes roll as you finally get ahold of your pulse, which apparently thought it was racing against a bullet train, "scared? understatement of the century, Perry, I very nearly went into cardiac arrest." you hiss, hand over your heart, maybe a little dramatically.

(the boy was rubbing off on you, you swore it). Neil chuckles, a warm sound, something that sounds like sweetness, as he pads over to where you are, a gleam in his eye.

"Also, you weren't braving snowstorms to get here, so I'd watch the nicknames," you add with a narrow of your eyes, plopping the brown paper bag on the counter.

his fingertip pokes your cheek affectionately as he grins, "that's a shame, I had quite a few I needed to get out of my system," he comments casually, tapping your nose, leaving the ruddy tint on your nose spreading to your ears.

you give him an unimpressed swat at his hand, and a very annoying part of you wants to smile, but you bite it back.

Neil grins before his gaze finally trails to your mysterious bag, raising a curious brow as his hands move to it, beginning to fish through.

"Did you...did you bring ten shades of green frosting?" he scoffs in disbelieving laughter.

"Well, since we're using everything else we need from here, I think it was a good idea to indulge in the aesthetics."

"I didn't know cookie-baking was this serious," Neil gives a low whistle, crossing his arms as he examines the page. "all the more reason to get started," you chime, tugging at his sleeve, your chin tilting to the cupboards, "you grab the ingredients, I'll handle the pots and trays, sounds good?"

"Aye aye, chef," he returns, as he goes on his assigned quest, braving the dust and creaking cupboards of Welton's kitchen, and you attempt to make as little noise as you can, delving into pots and pans trying to pull out, a good cookie tray and mixing bowl.

finally, after a few minutes, you both emerge victorious. Soon, you're busy debating with Neil that the measurements don't have to be exact.

"Neil, honey, listen, it's literally not a catastrophe if it's a milligram less than 500" "bUt it says 500 >:( " .

and you're letting him mix. You would probably lie if he asked, but you found it both entertaining and anxiety-inducing as his stirs began to get increasingly more aggressive because -

"WHY ISN'T IT THICKENING?" "I think you have to add more flour-" "I KNEW IT."

you have to hold in a wheeze of laughter as somehow and miraculously while dusting it over the counter as a bed for the dough, the boy gets flour on his nose, so you opt for a tight, tight smile and clearly, that was your first mistake because your boyfriend notices after he's rolled out the dough.

now he's chasing you around the kitchen with a bag of flour while you hold in the war cries of a fallen soldier as he pelts you with handfuls of the powder as if it were goddamn snow.

by the end, you were backed against the fridge, panting as you called for a truce, sealing it with a floury kiss followed by bursts of stifled laughter.

"I think we should do more snowmen," Neil proposes as you place another Christmas tree cookie cutter into the thick dough with precision.

"while I do think that's a good idea, you took up most of the dough with the reindeer" you reply back simply, as you gesture to the five grand animal cut outs, and a few (amputated) gingerbread men alongside a tree or two.

"Aha, but you see, that's where you're wrong because where there's hope, there is a way," he announces poignantly.

he squishes the dough, making sure to pick up stragglers sticking stubbornly to the countertop and serendipitously finding just enough to bring one more snowman to sugary life.

Neil's merry little hop of victory, paired with the glee sparkling in his eyes, leaves you feeling the happiest you've ever been to be proven wrong.

soon, you're popping the almost ready treats in the oven, and Neil's preparing a strategy on taking them out a minute before the timer ends to avoid the obnoxious beeping that would ensue and result in both your 'hinds being flung into Nolan's office.

you spend the time seated on the counter after Neil steals some poor educator's eggnog from the fridge as you exchange giddy and hushed conversation, legs swinging over the edge.

"-and that's when his pantaloons fell down mid-line, and he had to stand behind one of the trees to deliver the ending monologue," Neil explains through peals of laughter, and you'd already lost it at the word pantaloons.

"-no, I'm serious, my brother really tricked me into thinking he was Santa Clause." "You've got to be kidding me," Neil gapes, a grin playing on his lips.

"Hey! Don't you make fun of me, Mister thought-the-easter-bunny-was-real-till-he-was-fifteen," you taunt back, in stitches as he lightly shoves at your shoulder. but then, the corner of your eyes catches something.

Neil notices it the same time you do.

"Oh shHHH-" you both lunge like Olympians towards the oven, literally seconds away from the timer going off and waking the entire bottom floor.

Neil gets to it first, a hand slapping over the knob, and with one second left, the oven shuts off with a dull, disappointed click. the sigh of relief emptying from both of you quickly sinks into suppressed laughter.

Neil reaches out a tentative hand, opening the oven door, about to grab the tray-

"Oh my god, are you trying to scorch your hand- !" you immediately smack his fingers, met with his bemused furrowing brow, until realization turns him sheepish.

"well that wasn't the exact plan-"

you force him to wear some tattered oven mitts with tiny cats wearing Christmas hats sewn on them that you'd found in the recesses of kitchen drawers.

decorating cookies is something Neil Perry had little to no experience in, but last year, you'd brought some over for everyone, and all he wanted to do was make you proud.

so he rolled up his sleeves, the piping bag held like a weapon, and his tongue stuck out in concentration as he attempted icing.

you'd honestly forgotten to ice your own, just there watching him with the biggest smile tugged on your lips, because yeah, Neil was maybe adorable, but you wouldn't tell him that to his face- well, not right now, right now.

what had come of this was some perfectly iced snowmen, smiley-faced gingerbread men, and perky Christmas trees, for the boy had talent.

But after a few painstakingly decorated cookies from both your perfectionist selves, you decide that it's time to make the hideous batch. so you wreak havoc with gumdrops and haphazardly thrown sprinkles.

there was even one with a middle finger and a poorly drawn caricature of Nolan, and yes, some would call you an artist.

there's almost a toothrottingly large amount of giggling as you stick a few extra gumdrops to Neil's nose, and sure, maybe if one of the poets caught this, he'd be teased mercilessly into finals, but when you smiled like that, he thinks it would be worth it.

"Okay, ready?" you say gravely as you hold a cookie up to his lips, him doing the same for you, both your eyes meeting with the seriousness of testing out a NASA rocket.

"Ready."

Neil's eyes nearly pop out his sockets as he releases a satisfied groan because the cookies taste heaven-sent.

suddenly, he doesn't mind that he possibly felt a spider in one of those oven mitts. clearly, you agree as your gaze widens, and the pure joy of devouring a good cookie settles on your face.

then there are footsteps on the staircase. heavy ones.

Neil's and your heads both whip to the stairwell, then to one another, as your blood runs cold.

oh fu-

next thing you know, you're busy stuffing down all your supplies in a bag, and Neil tossing the creations you'd both labored over into a tin you'd thankfully remembered to pack, and Neil's ushering you down a secret passageway as you stumble over another set of stairs, before finally-finally reaching his dorm.

Todd is less than amused when he wakes up to muffled laughter and out-of-breath gasps, but he doesn't mind since he gets a pretty good cookie out of it.

you're not sure if the rest of the boys have some telepathic connection or they'd just caught a whiff of the baked goods, but soon they've materialized in the room.

you fall asleep beside Neil after hours of guzzling down sodas Knox had gotten ahold of during one of his outings into town when he'd gone to see Chris, poets' snarfing down the treats like it were their last meal and everyone's attempting

- emphasis on attempting-

to keep their voices down, especially when Charlie's doing a wicked impersonation of Cameron, and almost trips over an innocently extended leg.

before you drift off, you catch the faint smile pressing to your forehead as your cheek lies against the pillow and a faintly whispered "thank you."

and that's probably the best Christmas gift you could ask for.

bonus !: neil's busy packing up his text, the boys going ahead of him to secure seats in the dining hall. "Slept well last night mister perry?" "Yes sir," neil's eyes barely look up to Mister Keating as he struggles to stuff a handful of pencils in his case, the question a bit odd, but maybe he looked more tired than usual, he guesses that was a given after last night-

"You know it's funny, I went downstairs last night and heard the strangest noise in the kitchens..." Keating drawls as he gathers his books in the crook of his elbow. And it's then Neil looks up to see the beam on his face, no malice in those eyes but the sparkle of good old-fashioned I know what you did. He stops by the doorframe as he gives Neil one last raise of his brows, leaving him with a statement that turns Neil's face scarlet. "I never would've pegged you as a baker, Mister Perry."

a/n: yes the lowercase is intended- sorta. this was written over a number of days, very late um- i was going to go for mr lupin, but it was neil perry week, so here we go. if you liked this, well maybe possibly reblog and/or comment :D !! i had fun with it, it's not perfect, but i needed to get out at least one christmassy dps fic :') the next one is definitely going to be remus, until then thank you for reading <3 happy holidays ho ho ho 🎅

[hbmmaster]

would 3 player cgt require 3 sign directions on the number line (positive, negative, secret third thing)

not quite.

the "sign" of a game in combinatorial game theory is really its outcome class, meaning "for each player, what is the final outcome of this game if that player goes first and everyone is playing optimally?"

under normal play, there are two outcomes (Left wins or Right wins), and therefore four outcome classes.

"positive": Left wins no matter whose turn it is

"negative": Right wins no matter whose turn it is

"zero": whoever goes first loses

"fuzzy": whoever goes first wins

so, if you're talking about all games and not just numbers, two-player games already need more than two "signs"! however, only "positive" and "negative" are actual meaningful directions ("better for Left" and "better for Right"), and fuzzy games are distinctly not part of the surreal number line.

adding a third Center player makes things much more complicated.

the simplest way it could work conceptually would be for there to be exactly three possible outcomes: Left wins, Center wins, and Right wins. assuming the turn order is constant, there are twenty-seven outcome classes! (I'm using some ad hoc notation for this)

[LLL] "positive": Left wins no matter whose turn it is

[LLC]: Left wins, but if it's Right's turn Center wins

[LLR]: Left wins, but if it's Right's turn Right wins

[LCL]: Left wins, but if it's Center's turn Center wins

[LCC]: Center wins, but if it's Left's turn Left wins

[LCR]: "fuzzy": whoever goes first wins

[LRL]: Left wins, but if it's Center's turn Right wins

[LRC]: Left wins iff she's the current player AND the current player wins iff it's Left's turn

[LRR]: Right wins, but if it's Left's turn Left wins

[CLL]: Left wins, but if it's Left's turn Center wins

[CLC]: Center wins, but if it's Center's turn Left wins

[CLR]: Right wins iff he's the current player AND the current player wins iff it's Right's turn

[CCL]: Center wins, but if it's Right's turn Left wins

[CCC]: "secret third thing": Center wins no matter whose turn it is

[CCR]: Center wins, but if it's Right's turn Right wins

[CRL]: "zero": whoever goes second wins

[CRC]: Center wins, but if it's Center's turn Right wins

[CRR]: Right wins, but if it's Left's turn Center wins

[RLL]: Left wins, but if it's Left's turn Right wins

[RLC]: "other zero": whoever goes third wins

[RLR]: Right wins, but if it's Center's turn Left wins

[RCL]: Center wins iff they're the current player AND the current player wins iff it's Center's turn

[RCC]: Center wins, but if it's Left's turn Right wins

[RCR]: Right wins, but if it's Center's turn Center wins

[RRL]: Right wins, but if it's Right's turn Left wins

[RRC]: Right wins, but if it's Right's turn Center wins

[RRR]: "negative": Right wins no matter whose turn it is

which of these can correspond to numbers (games where the current player has no moves available that are as good as or better for them than skipping their turn would be) would depend on the exact ruleset you use and the assumptions you make about the players' behavior, but it's probably not possible to define it in a way where all non-zero three-player numbers belong to one of exactly three outcome classes.

[pax-romana200]

I genuinely forget sometimes that the Lord loves me and you NO MATTER WHAT. Like I was lrl sitting in my room overthinking, worrying, feeling all sad, questioning if I'm good enough to be loved by God and to even be one of his followers. Like girl wake up, you know better! Jesus died for me, Jesus died for the people I worry for, Jesus died for the people I love, Jesus died for you.

Here's my rant: If hateful ppl hurt you for who you are, if priest #1 tells u that ur going to hell, if priest #2 tells u that ur whole denomination is going to hell, if ur own community of fellow christians looks down on you, so what? Don't let that stuff get to you and make you believe that you aren't a child of God as well.

God sees you, he sees your heart and intentions, he knows you're trying your best, he understands, and he loves you!!!!