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voidsdamned · 3 months

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Wicked Natures - The Ghoul/OC (Female Character) Chapter Eleven

Summary: Bounty hunters are frequent customers at Mulholland's Saloon, and Rue's taken quite a shine to one gunslinger in particular: a cantankerous, old Ghoul in a tattered duster. Witness her unabashedly lust after him in all his irradiated glory (as we are all currently doing), as well as navigate the precarious relationship she unfortunately has with local law enforcement.

Minors, do not interact.

Content Warnings: descriptions of violence, mentions of prostitution, the usual swearing.

Enjoy.

Chapter Eleven: Golden Opportunity

Drunk. High. Maybe both. Deck Craven is not himself when Rue meets him and his boys -Lucky and two she doesn’t know that she’s ever seen before– at the end of the drive. His eyes are glazed in the lowlight of the lantern he carries, and he doesn’t seem as firm on his feet. His body moves with the mild, night breeze.

When she bounds up to him, the first thing he does is pull her into a firm hug –not one of his usual light touches– and his hand travels up through her hair, netting. Rue goes statue still, her soul and breath leaving her body. This is new. New and terrible and unwelcome. Horrifying when he buries his face in her hair and sniffs. Rue’s ninety-percent certain he looses the softest of groans.

Rue wants to evaporate, to hurl, but the best she can do is pretend it didn’t happen and hope it never happens again. And it really better not. She draws closer and closer to the end of her tolerance, her sanity, and she needs both a little bit longer. But they -she- won't last if this is how he's going to be. If this isn't a one-off caused by him being off his ass on something.

She casually attempts to pull herself from the hug, but Deck doesn’t allow for that. His hold on her shifts, becoming an arm draped casually over her shoulder, and he guides her along like that, smiling down at her and asking her how her day was.

The touch is like thorns against her skin, but Rue grits her teeth and bears it. Smiles away as she tells him a skewed version of events that leaves out the Ghoul. All the while, her brain plots out various murder scenarios to help her cope.

Rue has tried to kill Deck Craven three times –well, four, if she counts the night Lucky spilled the beans, but she doesn't like to. That was a catastrophe, a complete failure. Deck wasn't anywhere around, but Louie Redd was; and he, unfortunately, bears a great resemblance to the sheriff. Rue's rampaging brain had her trying to strangle the innocent man, and after... well, Rue doesn't know what happened after, but Len Thomas told her he fished her out of a water tank that night. Hal confirmed it later. Rue pretends it didn't happen.

Her official first attempt happened a few weeks later. After convincing Doc Nguyen she needed Med-X for recurring migraines, Rue saved up enough doses to kill a man twice Deck’s size. When he came to dinner one night, Rue laced his food and his drink. She gave him every drop, and then she watched in barely-contained rage as he kept laughing and talking and walking around. He went home in probably better spirits than he arrived, and Rue wanted to spit fire.

Her second attempt was... dumb. She caught a nightstalker (which took a lot of raw meat and cooing), released it in his house, and spent the next month feeling guilty and stupid because of how many holes got pumped into the poor thing that never stood a chance. She should have realized that from the get-go.

Her third attempt was simple. Straightforward. A knife in hand, she flung herself at him and tried to slit his throat from ear-to-ear, not caring what happened to her if she failed. And she did fail. Molly tackled her, knocked her lights out, and the whole incident was written off as her having another fit.

After that, Rue stopped. People were paying too much attention to her, reporting her every move to Deck, and the way they started treating her…. She could tell people were wary, waiting for her to snap. They’d speak gentle to her or not at all, and Deck became so much more smothering. Ridiculous. It took weeks of pristine, good girl behaviour to convince him to give her, her pocketknife back, and Rue's been playing the part since. Because she realized her revenge would have to wait for something... perfect.

A golden opportunity.

Tonight would be if Deck’s goons weren’t here. He’s off his a-game, leaning heavy on her, and Rue can imagine slipping her pocketknife from her bag and taking it to his neck. To his eyes. Mouth. Ears. She’d take it to every inch of skin. She’d cut off his dick and balls and shove them in his mouth and leave his desecrated body to the coyotes and scorpions. She’d rough herself up, too. Roll in the dirt. Give herself a few cuts. She’d arrive in Dust breathless and bloodied, a tale of rabid wildlife and a valiant sheriff who gave her a chance to run falling from her lips.

But with the dick and balls in his mouth….

Rue has to rethink how she would eviscerate him.

“So, it was just you, Mrs. Ira Jean, and her wife all day?” the sheriff asks, head knocking against hers, drawing her from bloody imaginations.

Rue forces out a chipper, “Yep! And the dogs, chickens, and brahmin.”

“Huh, coulda sworn I saw you by the fence with someone….”

Rue's heart stutter-stops, but she's gotten really good at fibbing. She's quick with it. “You did! That was Paulie.”

The man essentially draping himself over her stiffens. His voice is a tight question, “Paulie?”

“Yeah, he’s a scarecrow. I was playin’ him a song on my fancy, new guitar.”

The tension immediately melts out of the man, but Rue’s heart takes a moment longer to beat normally again. Her brain won't stop buzzing, though. It stays on high alert, even when the sheriff laughs, his head knocking against Rue's once more.

“You oughta play me a song,” he murmurs, voice all soft and hopeful. "Imma much better crowd than a scarecrow."

“’Course I will.” Though, Rue would rather slit her own throat. “But maybe we make it back to town first? I’d hate to draw any critters in.”

The sheriff finally draws himself upright, drags himself off Rue with a shoulder squeeze. He shoots her a starry-eyed smile that she’d love to see bloody and carved open. “That’s probably a good idea.”

She smiles back. “I have those sometimes.”

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For the first time in months, Rue is right on time for her shift at Mulholland’s, and only because she’s so goddamn excited to show Hal and Lara her new, most-prized possession. She already has the guitar in hand, fingers flying across the strings when she bursts through the saloon’s double doors. The sound of The World We Knew fills the empty space and causes the man behind the bar to jerk upright.

His complete surprise fast melts into an easy grin that goes dreamy the more she plays. His fingers thrum against the bar in time to the music, and when she plays out the final notes, he gives her a small round of applause and a, “Damn. You’re good.”

Rue tries and fails to be humble, her smile and the, “Fuck yeah I am,” coming across as incredibly cocky.

Hal shakes his head at her, and then cocks a curious brow. “You just picked that song at random, or did ya know I like Sinatra?”

“Oh, I know. Ya play that big-band station every time we’re slow,” Rue says, matter-of-fact. “And ya always know all the words.”

“He’s just got a… romance about him?” Hal tries to explain. “Most everything he sings got some kinda lovin’ or longin’ to it, and honestly, I’m a sap for that shit.”

Rue tips her head, adjusting the guitar so that it rests against her back. She leans into the bar. “Nothin’ wrong with that. Kitty Kallen makes me feel all sappy, and more often than not, I’m gonna cry if I hear Nat King Cole.”

Hal sighs, a longing sound as he drapes against the bar. “God, he gets me, too….” He shakes his head again, perhaps at himself. “You have a good time yesterday?”

Rue nods too much. “The best time. I got to bottle feed babies. Mrs. Rosa lemme name all her chickens –she made the tastiest dinner I’ve ever had. It was flank steak and peppers and rice and spicy. And I found this guitar, and Mrs. Ira Jean lemme keep it. Its name is Baby Destiny ‘cause it used to belong to Baby Destiny.” She pulls in a breath, flattening herself over the bar top and looking up at Hal with a sun-shaming smile. “Thank ya so much for walkin’ me out –for helpin’ me convince Deck. Next time ya wanna duck out for some cozyin’ up, I won’t even ask for muffins.”

The barkeep’s bemused grin fades with an intense rolls of his eyes. “I dunno if I can even get away with that anymore. Thinkin’ Lucky must’ve snitched on me. Deck gave me a talkin’ to ‘bout ‘abandonin’ my post’.” Hal snorts, derisive. “Comin’ at me with that military shit. This ain’t the fuckin’ Brotherhood. …It’s been years since I seen a vertibird, but I fuckin’ wish one of ‘em would pass by here. I’d flag ‘em down and let ‘em know we got a whole unit of their piece of shit deserters lordin’ over the place.”

Rue’s bolt upright, eyes wide around as the moon. “Deck’s Brotherhood?”

Hal cocks his head. “Ya didn’t know?”

She shakes her head furiously, curls fanning all about her. “But that explains so much.”

The barkeep’s grin is wicked, the glint in his eyes conspiratorial. His voice lowers several octaves for him to reveal, “He’s also fuckin’ blitzed on Med-X eighty-five-percent of the time.”

“That also explains so much.” Rue sinks back down, hands drumming on the bar. She speaks quietly, too. “Got any dirt on Adel?”

Hal looks to the rafters, brows scrunching in thought. “It’s not really dirt, but….” He eventually comes out with a, “She moans when she pees –like an old man with a fucked-up prostate.”

Rue snorts, the sound blooming into a cackle. “And how do ya know that?”

“Molly told me.” He tips his chin. “Now you gimme somethin’ good.”

“I dunno that I got anything good….” Rue hums to herself, mentally going through her stores of shit she’s overheard that won’t get her in too much trouble when it inevitably gets back around. Any of it could be bad, honestly. Even the little stuff like Tam seeing Ms. Mayberry on the side or how she’s heard that Wade Betts is a chicken fucker. “Oh, I think Billy Tate has a crush on ya. Is that good?”

A spark of interest goes off in the barkeep’s coal eyes. “Uh-huh.” His lips twist impishly. “That’s real good to hear.”

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Lara is next on Rue’s list of people to show off to, and she has just the song picked out for the honey-eyed brunette already –one of her favourites: Little Things Mean a Lot. But when Rue opens Lara’s door, her hands still just before she can go to string picking.

The brunette is slumped over her vanity, face buried in her arms and the softest of sniffling coming from her.

Rue burns at the sight and sound, immediately closing the door behind her and locking it for good measure. She crosses the floor quickly, guitar going across her back and her knees to the floor beside Lara’s chair. She places a hand on Lara’s leg; the brunette jolts, head snapping to look down at Rue with red, puffy eyes that glisten horribly.

“I can get whoever gotcha,” Rue offers, smile gentle. “Just tell me who and gimme a lil' time.”

Lara’s lips wobble, and before Rue can blink, the brunette’s thrown her arms around her neck to hug her tightly. “It’s everything, Rue!” Her voice breaks, hitches. “Warner’s headin’ out Monday, and it sounds like he won’t be back for months. And I wanna go with him, but my fuckin’ contract! There’s still so much on it! I can’t pay Adel what she’s figured up in time! And… and… and, Rue, I don’t have a single customer tonight. I haven’t had more than one or two all week, and I think it’s on real purpose. Like Adel don’t even want me tryin’ to make the money in time.”

Lara squeezes so tight Rue can barely breathe. Rue squeezes back just as earnest, raging internally. She can’t stand the way Lara shakes, how hot her tears are as they soak through her blouse. And to hear what Adel’s doing? Rue’s damn sure it is on purpose, and it's got her wanting to tear the viper's throat out with her teeth.

But there’s one thing that sticks in Rue’s head, something weird and she hasn’t heard of before. She asks Lara, “They made ya sign a contract to work here?”

The brunette stiffens, and she slowly releases Rue from her death-grip hug. But her arms stay on Rue’s shoulders, fisted in her blouse. Her honey eyes leak fat tears. She looks away, ashamed. “Daddy couldn’t pay his debts. He made a deal with Deck that I’d work here ‘til it was paid off….” Lara releases one of Rue’s shoulders and shakily drags the heel of her hand against her eyes. “But I swear, that man must’ve been rackin’ up more the entire time I’ve been here. There ain’t no way I still owe seven hundred caps on a two-thousand cap debt -even with the cost of the room bein' deducted from my pay. I been here for three years.”

Rue’s vision goes red, her voice that deathly kind of quiet. “Eladio fuckin’ sold you?”

“I-I went along with it,” Lara’s voice breaks again, and she begins to smooth Rue's hair, as if sensing the rage boiling up. “I wanted to help. I-It was the only way I could think of to help.”

Rue pulls in a deep, deep breath. Her eyes close, mind focusing on those hair pats that are ridiculously soothing. She exhales slowly, telling herself to be angry later and to focus on Lara. She pops to her feet and reaches for brunette, pulling the sobbing girl into her side where she pets and coos and assures her that everything is going to be okay.

Rue’s going to make it okay. Lara’s leaving with Warner on Monday, and no one’s stopping her.

“How much do ya have?”

“Two-hundred and fifty-two,” Lara sobs.

“Warner got anything?"

“Two hundred of that is Warner’s.” Lara does a lot of sniffing. “The rest he has, has to go to the trip. They ain’t payin’ him ‘til we get to the Hub.”

Rue accepts that with a nod. She might have four hundred after what she gave to Artie. She’ll have to go home and count it, and then she’ll have to work her ass off this weekend –charm the asses of everyone– to make up the difference. She’ll be flat broke after, but…. It’s worth it to her. Lara’s worth all the moons and stars to her.

She kisses Lara’s hair before reaching for a brush on the vanity and taking it to the brunette locks. She carefully, slowly, begins to work it through Lara’s hair from the ends up. “Here’s how we’re gonna do it,” she says quietly, smiling at the shaking girl in the mirror. “I’m gonna bring you a sack of caps. You’re not gonna fight with me ‘bout it. You’re gonna take it, and you’re not gonna mention it to no one –not even Warner. You’re gonna be distraught and miserable for the rest of the weekend, and come Monday mornin’, you’re gonna go to Adel’s office, sit down and count ‘em out right in front of her, and then you’re gonna leave. No matter what she tries to say, ya leave. Understand?”

Lara’s eyes are wide around as dinner plates, her mouth moving like it wants to say something, but she just can’t get it out. Rue watches the honey-eyed girl’s throat bob. Her mouth shuts. She nods.

“And anything ya got that ya wanna take with ya, sneak it to me. She’s likely not gonna give you a chance to grab any of your things.”

Lara immediately goes scrambling for something in her vanity, popping out a false bottom in one of the drawers. She pulls out a bundle of letters tied off with twine and a necklace that looks like it’s made of coyote teeth and a little, yellow, desert flower trapped in resin.

Rue opens up her bag for Lara to place the belongings in. “T-These are real important to me. They’re all I need other than some clothes -I’ll give ya the clothes tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“Perfectly,” Rue assures, resuming her methodical brushing out of Lara’s hair before she begins on a pretty braid that starts at the crown of her head. She moves on from the topic. It’s settled in her mind, and it’s not wise to keep talking about it. “Can I tell ya ‘bout Mrs. Ira Jean’s?”

Lara, teary-eyed and smile watery, nods. “’Course ya can.”

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The number of caps in Rue’s glass jar is a little less than she thought, but with how busy the saloon has been, pulling together the missing caps for Lara is fairly easy. Rue does as she always does but turns her sweetness and charm up to an eleven, making tables howl with laughter; and though she doesn’t normally flirt with any of her patrons, she does throw in a few winks that might end up biting her in the ass later. But she doesn’t care. She’s going to get Lara out of Mulholland’s –out of Dust.

By Sunday night, Rue has everything she needs and a little extra. And while she would like to slip that little extra to Lara, Rue remembers she actually does have to eat and live and such. She pockets the excess and sneaks the remaining funds to the brunette. They don’t talk about their plans as they make the hand off. Rue only winks and leaves for the night.

It is a sleepless night. Her brain is too active, plagued by a mix of worry and excitement. Rue ends up not sleeping a wink and sitting on her front porch where she passes the hours by tracing the shape of the Big Dipper and coming up with those of her own. When the stars fade and dawn comes on, she snatches up Lara’s rucksack and heads into town where Rue finds the caravan the brunette’s meant to leave with making ready in the town square.

It’s a large caravan, the biggest Rue's ever seen in Dust: five carts full up, each drawn by a team of two brahmin. Every cart has two drivers and at least one guard assigned to it, and the weathered wood is stamped with an unfamiliar logo: a red-and-white sort of swooshing that reads as, "Crimson Caravan." Rue has heard of them before, but this is her first time actually seeing them. They don't normally come out as far as Dust, and it makes her wonder if the small town is on the up-and-up with such a big name stopping in.

Everyone is making ready, checking harnesses and that loads are secure. There is a lot of chatter, a lot of energy in the air, but there is an outlier: a very quiet and sullen man that stands taller and broader than the rest. His black-haired head is always turning to look over his shoulder –back the way Mulholland’s is– and when Rue finally catches sight of his face, she sees he wears the saddest of expressions.

Her brain vaguely recognizes him as Warner. He’s come into Mulholland’s often enough, but she’s never really served him. He’s always been an upstairs patron, only ever there to see Lara.

She really hopes he’s not the one that doesn’t wash his dick, but his personal hygiene seems fine enough. His hair is brushed and his clothes kept enough. Shirt tucked in. Boots clean. He looks like he washes his dick, and he looks like he can take care of Lara with the muscley build and the .357 repeater on his back.

Rue marches right up to him, offering a hand and a smile. “My name’s Rue.”

It takes the boy a moment to realize she’s even there –that she had spoken to him– but eventually, he drags his gaze from behind him to look down at her in brow-scrunched confusion. “Uh… er… Warner.” He takes her hand and shakes it, and then gives a little jolt, gaze snapping up from their conjoined hands. His green eyes are questioning, hopeful. “Wait? Rue? You work with Lara, don’tcha?”

“Not anymore,” Rue says with a wink, shrugging off the bag she’s held onto over the weekend. She hands it over to Warner. “You take care of her, yeah? I think she’s real special, and I’ll hurt ya bodily if I ever find out ya didn’t do right by her.”

Warner nods excessively, taking the bag from her carefully and shouldering it. And shit, Rue didn’t think anyone could beat Hal at puppy-dog eyes, but Lara’s beaux pulls out the glossiest, roundest of eye expressions. “She’s comin’, huh? Really?”

“Sure is.” Rue peers down the street, spying a familiar figure marching briskly towards them.

Warner looks back, and he takes off without a moment’s hesitation, sprinting full tilt down the street to scoop Lara off her feet and spin her ‘round and ‘round. Rue watches him pepper her laughing, crying face with kisses, and then he just holds her. Long and tightly until they come apart, both red in the eyes.

They come walking back Rue’s way hand-in-hand, Lara pulling away to then run at Rue. She opens her arms wide to accept the love barreling her way and only just manages to keep them up right when Lara connects with her.

Giggling and squeezing, Lara tells her, “Adel pitched a fit. She tried to say I couldn’t leave yet, I had to wait for someone to fill my spot, but she couldn’t show me where it said that in my contract. And then she started shoutin’ and throwin’ shit, and I just told her she had her seven hundred caps and she could suck my dick.” There’s a victorious smugness infecting Lara’s tone. “But you were right, she wouldn’t let me set foot back in my room. She chased me out with a bat!”

Rue can imagine the fit, the look of rage upon Adel’s face, and it warms her very soul. “I’m real proud of ya. Fuck. I wish I coulda seen her.”

Lara pulls back from the hug; Rue lets her go. “I’m sure she’ll still be plenty ornery when ya go in tonight.”

Rue gives a devilish grin. “I’m gonna see if I can work her into a heart attack.”

The brunette matches her smile, but it dims. Lara swallows thickly, and her honey eyes well up all over again. “Hey, I’m gonna… I’m gonna miss you lots. You’re… you’re one of the best people I know.” Lara draws in her wobbling lips. “And I don’t know how I’m ever gonna repay ya for this.”

Rue’s throat goes tight, and her eyes sting. But she can’t cry. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to stop herself if she starts up. She knows her smile goes all watery, and she can certainly hear how her voice wavers, but she doesn’t give the tears a vote. “I’m gonna miss the hell outta you, Lara. You’re the only one ‘round here that plays pretend with me. I… I’ve really liked knowin’ ya.”

Tears slip free to race down Lara’s sweet face, and she engulfs Rue once more, hugging her fiercely. Like she doesn’t want to let go. For a moment, Rue doesn’t want her to. She doesn’t want Lara to leave Dust, and the urge to cry makes it hard for her to breathe.

“Maybe when we come back through,” Lara forces out in a tight, wet voice, “you can come with us?”

Rue buries her face in Lara’s shoulder. She forces everything down and away. She blinks and blinks and breathes, and when everything is nice and tucked away under an unreadable smile, she pulls back and promises, “I’m gonna come find ya for myself, and I’ll be your awkward third wheel ‘til ya get sick of me.”

#the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout the series #fallout 2024 #fallout tv series

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rise-tv · 4 months

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Ancient Cataclysms: Rise TV Series Exploring 5 Catastrophes That Rocked The World

Let’s see how throughout history, ancient Cataclysms in societies have shared stories and depictions of devastating natural disasters, highlighting the long-standing presence of events like earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and floods.

Introduction — Catastrophic Natural Disasters and Ancient Cataclysms:-

Ancient societies worldwide have passed down stories of severe natural disasters through oral traditions, folklore, historical chronicles, visual depictions, and mythology. Catastrophic natural disasters such as earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and floods are not new, but how people perceive these events has evolved dramatically throughout time.

Continue reading to learn more about our ancestors�� experiences with natural disasters in the Rise TV Series.

A Global Climatic Ancient Cataclysm of the 6th Century:-

Between 535 and 536, a series of large worldwide climatic occurrences may be defined as a global disaster with disastrous effects. Numerous testimonies from around the world around that time describe the sun becoming weaker and losing its radiance. Many others characterize it as blue.

The impacts were also noted on the moon, which became less brilliant. The reduction in light caused the world to lose heat, no rain, and an extremely long winter, resulting in crop failures and the extinction of birds and other creatures. Famines and plagues ravaged numerous locations, resulting in a large number of deaths.

In China and Japan, the event was extensively documented, with frequent references to huge droughts and thousands of deaths. There wasn’t enough water for the people and the land. Thousands of square miles became sterile.

The severe disaster affected Korea, the Americas, Europe, Africa, and Australia. While written records are not available for many countries, archaeology and geological data have revealed signs of climate change. Studies on tree trunks, for example, revealed that 536 AD was the coldest in 1,500 years.

Neapolis: Sunk by a Tsunami:-

After over a decade of looking, the ruins of the city of Neapolis have been discovered off the coast of Nabeul, in northeast Tunisia. The flooded city covers 20 hectares (almost 50 acres). The researchers uncovered statues, streets, and approximately 100 tanks used to produce garum, a favourite Roman fermented fish sauce.

Because some of Neapolis’ ruins survive aboveground, submerged archaeologists have been investigating the area for seven years in the hopes of discovering the underwater counterpart. Based on their findings thus far, scholars have concluded that Neapolis was partially submerged by a tsunami on July 21, 365 AD, a natural calamity that also affected Alexandria, Egypt, and the Greek island of Crete. This validates an account written by the Roman army and historian Ammien Marcellin.

The catastrophic end of the Mycenaean Bronze Age:-

Theories on the role of natural disasters in the demise of the Mycenaean culture exist, with similar events occurring in modern Mediterranean societies, increasing the possibility of these events. Anatolia (modern-day Turkey), Egypt, and the Levant (modern-day Iraq, etc.) were all affected by a series of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions that also shook the Aegean.

Because of the centralization of each community, this seismic activity appears to have caused a fiery domino effect. Oil-burning lights were common in Mycenaean-Minoan Greece, Anatolia, and elsewhere, and the consistent earthquakes that rocked the Mediterranean could have simply caused these elevated flames to tip over and set fire to the settlements. H

aving communities in which politics, economy, and religion were all centred on a single location made it far too easy for these fires to almost instantly wreck order. One of the most prominent examples of fire causing such destruction is the scenario at Knossos in Crete.

The annihilation of entire cultures does not occur overnight; it seems likely that if the collapse of the Mycenaeans is tied to a natural disaster, that disaster marked the beginning of a predictable, hazardous chain of events. Weakened surroundings could lead to weaker economies, resulting in political upheaval.

A Tsunami Wiped off The Prehistoric Inhabitants of The North Sea Islands:-

Around 8,200 years ago, a tsunami destroyed an ancient civilization centred on a chain of islands between Britain and Europe. The islands, known as ‘Doggerland’, were inhabited by Mesolithic people, as shown by the discovery of flint tools and fishing nets. They were described as a prehistoric ‘Garden of Eden’.

Doggerland was a stretch of land between Northern Scotland, Denmark as well, and the Channel Islands. It was thought to have housed tens of thousands of people before disappearing underwater. Beginning roughly 20,000 years ago, a major outpouring of meltwater from Lake Agassiz, a giant glacial lake in North America, caused sea levels to rise by more than two feet.

Doggerland progressively became submerged in water, leaving behind several islands. Then, a large 3,000 cubic kilometre landslide near Norway caused a tsunami that flooded the islands and killed the human population; the massive wave was equivalent to the 2011 Japanese tsunami.

Severe drought and the decline of the Maya Civilization:-

The severity of the drought that occurred during the Maya civilization’s death around 1000 years ago has been assessed, adding to the body of information that could help solve the long-standing riddle of what caused the civilization’s demise. The central Maya region had a catastrophic governmental collapse around the ninth century, with the abandonment of prominent limestone cities and the end of dynasties.

While the Maya people survived this period, their economic and political power had diminished. There are other theories about what caused the collapse, including invasion, war, environmental degradation, and falling trade lines. In the 1990s, however, experts were able to piece together climate records for the Maya collapse and discovered that it coincided with an extended period of intense drought.

More recently, researchers devised a way to measure the various isotopes of water trapped in gypsum, a mineral formed during droughts when water levels drop, in Lake Chichancanab on Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula, where the Maya lived. They discovered that during the collapse of the Maya civilization, yearly precipitation reduced by 41% to 54%, with intervals of up to 70% rainfall reduction during peak drought conditions, and relative humidity decreased by 2% to 7% compared to today.

Final Concluding Thoughts:-

Throughout history, ancient societies have shared tales of devastating natural disasters through various mediums. The evolution of people’s perceptions of catastrophic events like earthquakes and floods has significantly changed over time.

The significant impacts of a celestial event, include reduced moonlight, loss of heat, crop failures, extinction of species, famines, plagues, and droughts, leading to widespread death and barren land.

The underwater investigation of Neapolis has confirmed that the city was partially submerged by a tsunami in 365 AD, which aligns with historical accounts.

The centralization of communities in ancient times, combined with seismic activity, led to devastating fires that quickly destroyed settlements. The interconnectedness of politics, economy, and religion in these centralized locations made them vulnerable to rapid chaos and destruction, as seen in the case of Knossos in Crete.

Doggerland was a landmass that connected Northern Scotland, Denmark, and the Channel Islands, but it disappeared underwater due to rising sea levels caused by melting glaciers.

A catastrophic landslide near Norway led to a tsunami that submerged the remaining islands and wiped out the human population, leaving behind only underwater remnants of the once-thriving civilization.

#mystery #strange #documentary #risetv #wonderous #entertainment #edgeofwonder #ancientdisasters #meta physical

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gloriabomfim · 1 year

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Part 2: 100 Montages of Failed Falling-in-Love Moments

[In a rapid series of 100 montages, Bumpy and Whoops attempt various activities to fall in love, but each one ends in comical failure.]

Montage 1: Picnic Gone Wrong

[Bumpy and Whoops sit on a checkered blanket in a park. Bumpy opens a picnic basket, and a swarm of ants emerges, attacking them both.]

Bumpy: Ow! Ants everywhere!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 2: Dance Floor Disaster

[Bumpy and Whoops attempt to dance, but they trip over each other's feet and end up in a tangled mess on the floor.]

Bumpy: Ouch! My foot!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 3: Romantic Dinner Chaos

[Bumpy sets a romantic dinner table with candles, but accidentally knocks it over, setting the curtains on fire. They rush to put out the flames.]

Bumpy: Oh no, the curtains!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 4: Balloon Popping Fiasco

[Bumpy surprises Whoops with a bouquet of balloons, but they all pop loudly, startling them both.]

Bumpy: Aah! Those balloons were a bad idea.

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 5: Roller Skating Disaster

[Bumpy and Whoops try roller skating but crash into a hot dog cart, sending hot dogs flying everywhere.]

Bumpy: Watch out for the hot dogs!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 6: Art Class Catastrophe

[They attempt to take an art class, but their paintbrushes get tangled, and they end up with a mess of paint on their faces.]

Bumpy: I can't see!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 7: Aquarium Mayhem

[At an aquarium, Bumpy accidentally falls into a fish tank, causing a frenzy among the fish.]

Bumpy: Fish attack!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 8: Flower Shop Fiasco

[They visit a flower shop, and Bumpy sneezes, sending flower petals flying in every direction.]

Bumpy: Ah-choo!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 9: Surprise Party Gone Awry

[Bumpy tries to throw a surprise party for Whoops, but she accidentally discovers it when he falls through a giant cake.]

Bumpy: Surprise?

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 10: Movie Theater Mishap

[They go to a movie, but Bumpy's chair collapses, and they end up tangled in the theater seats.]

Bumpy: My chair!

Whoops: Whoops!

[The montages continue, each with a new and hilarious failure in their attempts to fall in love.]

Montage 11: Beach Day Blunder

[Bumpy and Whoops head to the beach, but a sudden windstorm blows sand all over them, obscuring their vision.]

Bumpy: Sandstorm!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 12: Karaoke Chaos

[They try karaoke, but Bumpy accidentally pulls the microphone cord, causing a screeching feedback sound.]

Bumpy: Earsplitting!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 13: Baking Mishaps

[In the kitchen, they attempt to bake a cake, but the flour bag explodes, covering them in flour.]

Bumpy: I can't see anything!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 14: Gardening Gone Wild

[They decide to garden, but Bumpy accidentally steps on a rake, causing it to smack him in the face.]

Bumpy: Rake attack!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 15: Balloon Animals Gone Awry

[At a children's party, they try to make balloon animals but end up with bizarre and unrecognizable shapes.]

Bumpy: What is this supposed to be?

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 16: Ice Cream Parlor Mayhem

[They go to an ice cream parlor, but Bumpy's ice cream cone topples over, landing on his head.]

Bumpy: Ice cream disaster!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 17: Yoga Class Chaos

[They attempt a yoga class, but Bumpy's flexibility leaves much to be desired, and he ends up in a tangled mess of yoga mats.]

Bumpy: I'm stuck!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 18: Bowling Alley Blunder

[They go bowling, but Bumpy accidentally throws the ball backward, knocking down the pins in the wrong direction.]

Bumpy: Oops, wrong way!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 19: Aquarium Revisited

[Returning to the aquarium, Bumpy inadvertently releases a group of penguins into the wrong exhibit. Chaos ensues as the penguins waddle around.]

Bumpy: Penguins on the loose!

Whoops: Whoops!

[The comical mishaps continue as Bumpy and Whoops persist in their quest to fall in love despite the constant chaos.]

Montage 20: Art Gallery Antics

[They visit an art gallery, and Bumpy accidentally knocks over a priceless sculpture, causing a commotion.]

Bumpy: That wasn't supposed to happen!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 21: Trampoline Trouble

[They decide to bounce on a trampoline, but Bumpy lands on the edge, sending Whoops flying into a tree.]

Bumpy: Whoops, sorry!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 22: Shopping Cart Chaos

[While grocery shopping, Bumpy's shopping cart goes out of control, crashing into displays and sending groceries flying.]

Bumpy: Cart rampage!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 23: DIY Disaster

[They attempt to assemble furniture, but they misread the instructions and end up with a lopsided bookshelf.]

Bumpy: It's supposed to be straight!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 24: Picnic Redux

[They give the picnic another try, but this time, a gust of wind blows away their food and blanket.]

Bumpy: Bye-bye, lunch!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 25: Ski Slope Slip-Up

[They go skiing but accidentally take the wrong slope, ending up in a pile of snow at the bottom.]

Bumpy: We're not on the bunny slope!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 26: Magic Show Mayhem

[They attend a magic show, and Bumpy volunteers to be a magician's assistant but accidentally reveals the magician's secrets.]

Bumpy: The rabbit was in your hat!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 27: Science Experiment Gone Haywire

[They attempt a simple science experiment but end up with a colorful explosion that covers them in goo.]

Bumpy: Science can be messy!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 28: Aquarium III: Jellyfish Jam

[At the aquarium again, Bumpy gets too close to a tank of jellyfish and gets stung. Whoops tries to help but accidentally knocks over the tank.]

Bumpy: Ouch! Not again!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 29: Balloon Ride Bungle

[They take a hot air balloon ride, but Bumpy accidentally lets go of the rope, sending the balloon drifting away.]

Bumpy: We're flying without the balloon!

Whoops: Whoops!

[The misadventures continue, as Bumpy and Whoops persist in their unconventional journey toward love.]

Montage 30: Sushi Silliness

[They try a sushi-making class, but Bumpy struggles to roll the sushi, resulting in misshapen and messy rolls.]

Bumpy: Sushi artistry is not my thing!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 31: Hot Air Balloon Redux

[They attempt another hot air balloon ride, but this time, Bumpy accidentally deflates the balloon with a sharp object.]

Bumpy: Uh-oh, we're going down!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 32: Game Night Gaffes

[They invite friends over for game night, but Bumpy knocks over the board games, scattering pieces everywhere.]

Bumpy: Games, anyone?

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 33: Camping Calamity

[They go camping, but Bumpy accidentally starts a campfire too close to their tent, causing it to catch fire.]

Bumpy: We're camping in flames!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 34: DIY Spa Day Disaster

[They attempt to have a relaxing spa day at home, but Bumpy accidentally spills a jar of face mask goo all over the bathroom.]

Bumpy: My face mask mishap!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 35: Roller Coaster Ride Gone Wild

[They decide to brave a roller coaster, but Bumpy's restraint comes loose, and he clings to the safety bar for dear life.]

Bumpy: I'm not letting go!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 36: Surfing Splashdown

[They try surfing, but Bumpy wipes out spectacularly, causing a wave to drench them both.]

Bumpy: Cowabunga… oh wait!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 37: Ice Skating Slip-Up

[They go ice skating, but Bumpy accidentally skates into a group of beginners, causing a pileup.]

Bumpy: Ice rink chaos!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 38: Mystery Dinner Theater Mayhem

[They attend a mystery dinner theater, but Bumpy accidentally spoils the mystery by shouting out the solution.]

Bumpy: It's the butler!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 39: Carnival Capers

[They visit a carnival, and Bumpy accidentally wins a giant stuffed animal that falls on top of them.]

Bumpy: Prizes are dangerous!

Whoops: Whoops!

[Despite the constant misadventures, Bumpy and Whoops remain undeterred, finding laughter in their shared mishaps and quirks.]

Montage 40: Skydiving Slip-Up

[They decide to go skydiving, but Bumpy accidentally pulls his parachute cord too early, causing them to descend too quickly.]

Bumpy: We're falling too fast!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 41: Scuba Diving Delight

[They try scuba diving, but Bumpy accidentally startles a school of fish, causing them to swarm around them.]

Bumpy: Fishy friends!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 42: Horseback Riding Hijinks

[They go horseback riding, but Bumpy's horse takes off running, leaving him clinging to the saddle.]

Bumpy: Whoa, horsey!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 43: Amusement Park Antics

[They visit an amusement park, and Bumpy accidentally presses the emergency stop button on a roller coaster.]

Bumpy: Not again!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 44: Cooking Catastrophe

[They attempt to cook a fancy dinner together, but the kitchen ends up in chaos with pots and pans flying everywhere.]

Bumpy: Dinner is served…on the ceiling!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 45: Dance Party Disaster

[They join a dance party, but Bumpy's energetic dancing sends them both crashing into a DJ booth.]

Bumpy: I've got moves… and bruises!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 46: Hiking Hiccups

[They go hiking but get lost, stumbling into a patch of thorny bushes.]

Bumpy: Lost in nature!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 47: Paintball Pandemonium

[They try paintball, but Bumpy accidentally shoots their own team, leading to a colorful mess.]

Bumpy: Friendly fire!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 48: Go-Kart Chaos

[They race go-karts, but Bumpy takes a wrong turn and ends up driving through a food vendor's cart.]

Bumpy: I thought it was a shortcut!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 49: Stargazing Slip-Up

[They go stargazing, but Bumpy accidentally bumps the telescope, sending it spinning wildly.]

Bumpy: I think I saw a comet… or maybe not!

Whoops: Whoops!

[Despite the constant chaos and mishaps, Bumpy and Whoops find their love growing stronger with each shared adventure.]

Montage 50: Synchronized Swimming Splash

[They try synchronized swimming, but Bumpy's timing is off, causing a wave to drench the spectators.]

Bumpy: We made a big splash!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 51: Horse-Drawn Carriage Comedy

[They take a romantic horse-drawn carriage ride, but Bumpy accidentally startles the horse, leading to a wild ride.]

Bumpy: Hold on tight!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 52: Roller Derby Disaster

[They attend a roller derby, but Bumpy accidentally enters the track, causing a pileup of skaters.]

Bumpy: I'm not supposed to be here!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 53: Hot Air Balloon III: The Crash Landing

[On their third hot air balloon attempt, they crash into a tree, hanging precariously above the ground.]

Bumpy: Not again!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 54: Pottery Class Pandemonium

[They take a pottery class, but Bumpy's attempt at making a vase ends with clay splattered everywhere.]

Bumpy: Clay explosion!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 55: Parasailing Predicament

[They go parasailing, but a gust of wind sends them spinning uncontrollably in the air.]

Bumpy: We're like a human tornado!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 56: Food Truck Fiasco

[They order from a food truck, but Bumpy accidentally knocks over the food containers, creating a mess.]

Bumpy: Food truck disaster!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 57: Hula Hoop Hijinks

[They attempt hula hooping, but Bumpy's hoop flies off and lands on a passing cyclist.]

Bumpy: I lost my hoop!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 58: Snowball Fight Slip-Up

[They engage in a snowball fight, but Bumpy's throw accidentally hits a snowman, causing it to topple over.]

Bumpy: Snowman down!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 59: Romantic Sunset Ruined

[They go to watch a beautiful sunset, but Bumpy accidentally steps on Whoops' foot, and they both tumble down a hill.]

Bumpy: We missed the sunset!

Whoops: Whoops!

[Despite the countless comedic misadventures, Bumpy and Whoops continue to find humor and love in their unique, accident-prone relationship.]

Montage 60: Tennis Tournament Tangle

[They try playing tennis, but Bumpy's wild swing sends the ball flying into another court, disrupting a professional match.]

Bumpy: Game, set, chaos!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 61: Escape Room Extravaganza

[They enter an escape room, but Bumpy accidentally triggers a fire alarm while searching for clues.]

Bumpy: We escaped…kind of!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 62: Biking Blunders

[They rent bicycles, but Bumpy pedals backward, causing a chain reaction of bike crashes.]

Bumpy: Bike dominoes!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 63: Chocolate Factory Capers

[They take a tour of a chocolate factory, but Bumpy accidentally falls into a chocolate river, causing a cocoa-covered commotion.]

Bumpy: I'm a chocolate-covered cockroach!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 64: Rock Climbing Rumble

[They attempt rock climbing, but Bumpy accidentally drops a rock, setting off an avalanche of rocks.]

Bumpy: Rockslide!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 65: Juggling Jumble

[They try their hand at juggling, but Bumpy's throws go awry, causing a cascade of objects to fall.]

Bumpy: Juggling chaos!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 66: Ice Cream Truck Troubles

[They chase after an ice cream truck, but Bumpy slips and slides under the truck, emerging covered in ice cream.]

Bumpy: Ice cream catastrophe!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 67: Surfing II: Wave Wipeout

[They return to surfing, but a giant wave engulfs them, sending them tumbling underwater.]

Bumpy: Underwater adventure!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 68: Bowling II: Strikeout

[They go bowling again, but Bumpy accidentally throws the ball backward, knocking over pins in the wrong lane.]

Bumpy: Oops, wrong way again!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 69: Fireworks Fiasco

[They watch a fireworks display, but Bumpy accidentally sets off a firework too early, creating a dazzling but premature finale.]

Bumpy: Fireworks surprise!

Whoops: Whoops!

[As they continue to navigate the world of love and mishaps, Bumpy and Whoops share laughter and a bond that only their unique adventures can bring.]

Montage 70: Canoeing Catastrophe

[They decide to go canoeing, but Bumpy accidentally paddles in circles, leaving them stuck in the same spot.]

Bumpy: We're going nowhere fast!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 71: Nature Hike Hiccups

[They embark on a nature hike, but Bumpy accidentally steps on a hornet's nest, resulting in a comedic bee chase.]

Bumpy: Bee-lieve it or not, this stings!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 72: Movie Night Mayhem

[They plan a cozy movie night at home, but Bumpy accidentally spills popcorn all over the living room.]

Bumpy: Popcorn explosion!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 73: Wine Tasting Tumble

[They attend a wine tasting event, but Bumpy knocks over a wine rack, causing a domino effect of crashing bottles.]

Bumpy: Wine tsunami!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 74: Horseback Riding II: Rodeo Roundup

[They try horseback riding again, but Bumpy's horse starts bucking wildly, turning the ride into a rodeo.]

Bumpy: Hang on for the ride of your life!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 75: Bike Tour Turmoil

[They join a bike tour of the city, but Bumpy accidentally leads the group into a construction zone.]

Bumpy: Detour disaster!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 76: Archery Antics

[They take an archery class, but Bumpy's arrow veers off course, narrowly missing a target and embedding itself in a tree.]

Bumpy: Bullseye… sort of!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 77: Pie-Eating Contest Pandemonium

[They enter a pie-eating contest, but Bumpy accidentally sends a pie flying across the room.]

Bumpy: Pie in the sky!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 78: DIY Home Makeover Mayhem

[They attempt to give their home a makeover, but Bumpy accidentally paints the ceiling bright pink instead of the walls.]

Bumpy: Our new color scheme is…unique!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 79: Skydiving II: Tangled Chutes

[On their second skydiving attempt, their parachutes get tangled together, leaving them in a dizzying spin.]

Bumpy: We're in a spin cycle!

Whoops: Whoops!

[Despite the continuous whirlwind of mishaps, Bumpy and Whoops keep their spirits high and their love growing stronger with each adventure.]

Montage 80: Hiking II: Bear Encounter

[They go hiking again, and this time, they accidentally stumble upon a bear's den, leading to a hilarious bear chase.]

Bumpy: Run for it!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 81: Restaurant Reservations Mix-Up

[They plan a romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant, but Bumpy accidentally books a table on the wrong night, causing a scene.]

Bumpy: Our reservation is for tomorrow!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 82: Indoor Trampoline Troubles

[They visit an indoor trampoline park, but Bumpy's bounce sends them crashing into a foam pit.]

Bumpy: Foam party!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 83: Baking II: Flour Fight

[They try baking again, but a playful flour fight erupts, covering them and the kitchen in a white cloud.]

Bumpy: I surrender!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 84: Laser Tag Lunacy

[They play laser tag, but Bumpy accidentally shoots a wall mirror, thinking it's an opponent.]

Bumpy: I got 'em… oh, it's just a mirror!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 85: Costume Party Capers

[They attend a costume party, but Bumpy's costume gets caught on a doorknob, unraveling as he walks in.]

Bumpy: I'm unraveling!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 86: Picnic III: Antics with Ants

[They try another picnic, but this time, they accidentally sit on an anthill, causing a hilarious ant attack.]

Bumpy: Ants in my pants!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 87: Kayaking Commotion

[They rent kayaks, but Bumpy's kayak flips over, leaving them splashing in the water.]

Bumpy: Overboard!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 88: DIY Car Wash Debacle

[They decide to wash their car at home, but Bumpy accidentally knocks over a bucket of soapy water, creating a slippery mess.]

Bumpy: Slip 'n' slide car wash!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 89: Game Night II: Card Castle Collapse

[They have another game night with friends, but Bumpy accidentally knocks over a card tower, sending cards flying everywhere.]

Bumpy: House of cards, meet the floor!

Whoops: Whoops!

[Through all the mishaps and adventures, Bumpy and Whoops continue to cherish their laughter-filled relationship, growing closer with each passing day.]

Montage 90: Water Park Wipeout

[They visit a water park, but Bumpy's attempt at a water slide ends with him tumbling down headfirst.]

Bumpy: Waterslide whirlwind!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 91: Cooking III: Fire Alarm Frenzy

[They cook dinner again, but Bumpy accidentally sets off the smoke alarm, filling the kitchen with smoke.]

Bumpy: Dinner's served…with a side of smoke!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 92: Camping II: Bear Bag Blunder

[They return to camping, but Bumpy accidentally drops the bear bag with their food, attracting real bears to their campsite.]

Bumpy: Bear bag bungle!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 93: Horseback Riding III: Wild Gallop

[They try horseback riding once more, but Bumpy's horse gallops off, leading to a wild chase through the countryside.]

Bumpy: Hang on tight…again!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 94: Ice Skating II: Rink Rampage

[They go ice skating again, but Bumpy's out-of-control skating sends them crashing into the rink's snack bar.]

Bumpy: Snack attack!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 95: Christmas Tree Catastrophe

[They decorate a Christmas tree, but Bumpy accidentally knocks it over, creating a tangled mess of lights and ornaments.]

Bumpy: Tree down!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 96: Karaoke II: Mic Mishap

[They try karaoke once more, but Bumpy accidentally pulls the microphone cord, causing feedback and confusion.]

Bumpy: I'm a feedback artist!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 97: Hot Air Balloon IV: Cloud Collision

[On their fourth hot air balloon attempt, they accidentally collide with a cloud, causing a flurry of cotton candy-like fluff.]

Bumpy: We're cloud busters!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 98: Game Night III: Board Game Bonanza

[They host another game night, but Bumpy accidentally flips the game board, sending game pieces flying.]

Bumpy: Game over, literally!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 99: Skiing II: Ski Swap

[They return to skiing, but Bumpy accidentally swaps skis with another person, leading to hilarious mix-ups on the slopes.]

Bumpy: Wrong skis!

Whoops: Whoops!

Montage 100: Grand Finale: Bumpy and Whoops Forever

[In their final montage, they find themselves in yet another uproarious mishap, but this time, they share a loving embrace amidst the chaos, knowing that their adventures will never end.]

Bumpy: We did it again!

Whoops: Whoops! But I wouldn't change a thing.

[Bumpy and Whoops share a laugh and a kiss, solidifying their love for each other in a world filled with endless, joyful accidents.]

#bumpy #whoops

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fragilevixenfic · 3 years

Text

The Darker Side of Love

Rating: M

Category: Angst/Post En Ami/Smut/Angry Sex

Summary: Mulder does not want to talk but he does not want Scully to leave, either.

“Betrayal stings in a bitter way but regret leaves an even bigger hole in a heart.” – Unknown

Edited/expanded from a piece written during Vicky’s (@frangipanidownunder on Tumblr) workshop focusing on specific words, tone, and mood to create a scene. Thank you for the fabulous beta work, Monika (@monikafilefan) and Kasey (@slippinmickeys). I’m eternally grateful for your insights.

I cannot let you burn me up,

Nor can I resist you.

No mere human can stand in a fire

And not be consumed.

-A.S. Byatt (Possession)

10:00 PM

Mulder had ignored Scully in the drive back from the empty offices, steadfast in keeping his eyes forward as she stared out the window. The expectation of an argument had gone flying by like so many drops of rain in the wind and renewed the dull ache in her heart as he drove right past her exit, opting for his own. Despite the anger written on his face, he wanted her next to him. He squeezed her hand only once before going upstairs and it felt more like pity than love. She pushed the emotions a little further down and stood in the doorway, watching him as he paced. Watching him as the pieces of his psyche finally began to crumble before her like a castle in the sand as the surf finally came to wash it away.

What have I done?

Scully held her palm to her lips as she stared at the physical representation of her failure; the manila folder Mulder onto the table and let every piece of paper fly across the lacquer top. They scattered onto the floor like so many hopes and dreams. They were now nothing more than nightmares manifested as Mulder tossed the disk onto the center of the mess, the glints of light reflecting darts of light across the ceiling, and heaved a heavy sigh as he sank against the cushions. She didn’t need the reminder of her self-inflicted catastrophe but he was providing it for her in the form of a massive printout of empty promises. There was already an ache in her belly and a lump up in her throat, and she swallowed the last of her nerves as she held a breath in. She wanted to be numb and run, but every nerve seared and tingled, pushing her to stay.

The leather squeaked and his eyes found hers but words wouldn’t come, like a punishment. His fingers twitched and knuckles went white as he squeezed air; it sent a chill down her back as she imagined who he was picturing on the other end of his fists. Something was burning behind those flecks of jagged gold and green that Scully didn’t want to decipher. Her tongue clicked the roof of her mouth as her eyes zoned out on the low, erratic bubbling of the fish tank. It was worse than any lecture and the wretchedness had already been doing the trick to her pneuma as she stared at the carnage of paperwork in front of him.

“Just say something,” Scully bit down hard enough on the corner of her lip that the taste went tinny and the first tear betrayed any hope of calm, coaxing a breathy sigh from Mulder.

Request not met. He’d set up camp in another non-committal night of no communication and anxiety; enough to make her blood pressure spike and make her cheeks go hot. Stalemate. Scully’s white flag went up as she felt the door staring at her back, willing her to just walk away and surrender. She teetered in her heels and grasped the molding as she heard the snap and skitter of his belt before her eyes could register the motion. Her gasp rivaled any sound Scully had ever made but it didn’t persuade more than a tilt of the head from Mulder. He leaned back as the sweat gathered along his brow. She recognized the distinct ember of change brewing beneath his lashes as he stared up at her.

“I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think,” Mulder tossed the belt onto the finished surface with a resounding thud and pushed his fingers into the cushions, desperation in his eyes. “Not tonight.”

“Then what do you want?” Scully held her breath and took a step closer, letting his eyes set fire to her soul as he tilted his head to look at her. “Do you want me to leave? Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know,” Mulder shook his head and stood, moving past her like a tornado with his fingers wound through his hair. “No.”

The disappointment in his voice was killing her as she backed up until the curve of her spine touched the wall, watching his jaw clench and his eyes narrow toward the floor. He paced for a long, agonizing moment. The silence was deafening, maddening, claustrophobic, and the pressure against Scully’s back only added to the suffocation as the oxygen refused to leave her lungs. Her exhale came out in a rasp and a whimper, tugging his focus until he was peering into her embodiment, bulldozing the remainder of the barrier she had built to keep the emotions in check. Composure evaporated as she let her tears fall; the unmentioned ardor sweeping down her cheeks as she bit down on the edge of her lip.

Scully ran her palm along her chin, capturing the stray droplets as the word came out despite every effort not to say it. “Please…”

Mulder diminished the distance, enfolding Scully’s frame in his arms, he pressed his fingers against the small of her back and dragged the fabric of her long-sleeved, high neck top up. Scully breathed toward the ceiling as Mulder freed her from the confines of her top, pulling it up and over her head before discarding it in the direction of the couch. Mulder knelt, guiding her out of her shoes and undoing the button and zipper on her slacks, exposing the pale curvature of her hips and legs along with a matched set of pale blue undergarments. He looked up at her from her waistline as he leaned in and set his teeth against her skin until she twitched under his grip. A moan pushed her lips apart.

“I can’t…” Mulder manhandled her, gripped her backside as he stood and thrust his pelvis against her as her arms wrapped around his neck. “I need…”

“I know,” Scully couldn’t have been more aware of Mulder’s magnetism as she hiked her knee around his hip and felt the sting of the mahogany trim as it struck her shoulder blades.

Scully didn’t want soft and slow and she knew neither did he, as his erection uncomfortably pressed against the remaining layers of clothing between them, inviting her warmth as her inner thighs quivered just enough to make his eyes roll back. Mulder thrust again and the punctuated cry was marked by the involuntary tightening of her fingers through his hair. The swirling of energy nearly toppled him over. Mulder let her feet touch the floor and looked down at her small, capable hands as they undid his jeans and pushed them down toward his knees before sweeping the soft material of his sweater up and away from his torso. He stopped to gaze at her and sighed into the drafty apartment at the delicate beauty that he had become so enamored with; exasperation, however, had become a prevalent frame of mind.

The pause was short lived as Mulder let his motions become frenetic and haphazard. He shed the last layers of cotton blends away from alabaster and blush before wrapping his arms around her waist. Scully held onto the wall as his thighs pushed against her, slowly sliding his cock past her slick folds until he had filled her completely. Mulder craved her proximity as he guided her legs a little higher, reveling in the electric heat as his unrelenting thrusts picked up speed. The intensity continued to build until it finally vibrated both framed pieces of artwork off the wall. On an ordinary day, the thudding of their frames hitting the floor might’ve been enough to stop every thrust that Mulder had made…but not tonight.

“Do you even understand…” Mulder’s voice came out in a growl, the sweat dripping down his temples as he locked gazes with hers and pinned her wrists above her head, bottom lip trembling with every syllable. “At all?”

“I had to try,” Scully’s fingernails were wreaking havoc on his shoulders, leaving blistering marks as she held onto him and felt the weight of his anger, his frustration, his unyielding passion as it bruised her backside with every grind of his pelvis into hers. “I couldn’t…not…try.”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done,” Mulder had tears down his face, betraying the gruffness he was desperate to convey as he moved a little slower, bucking his hips just enough to coax a throaty moan from her. “If anything bad…had happened.”

“I know…Goddammit, I know,” Scully’s fingers moved to his cheek, reclaiming his tenderness as he drove into her again, impulsively, and hopelessly sought possession of her affection, despite never losing it to start with. “I know.”

He didn’t want an apology or a semblance of redemption. He tipped the metaphorical glass and heard his name called to the rafters; he wanted to go back to the moment before the clandestine invaded under the veil of a continuously lit cigarette and a shroud of smoke.

Thanking anyone who cares to peek at this. Tagging @baronessblixen @today-in-fic @reasonandfaithinharmony @dreamingofscully @wtfmulder for the extra love love.

#Angst #post En Ami #x files #fanfic #x files fanfic #mulder and scully #smut #angry sex #a year in the making #the longest wait

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

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Recommendation engines and "lean-back" media

In William Gibson’s 1992 novel “Idoru,” a media executive describes her company’s core audience:

“Best visualized as a vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organism craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed. Personally I like to imagine something the size of a baby hippo, the color of a week-old boiled potato, that lives by itself, in the dark, in a double-wide on the outskirts of Topeka. It’s covered with eyes and it sweats constantly. The sweat runs into those eyes and makes them sting. It has no mouth…no genitals, and can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote. Or by voting in presidential elections.”

It’s an astonishingly great passage, not just for the image it evokes, but for how it captures the character of the speaker and her contempt for the people who made her fortune.

It’s also a beautiful distillation of the 1990s anxiety about TV’s role in a societal “dumbing down,” that had brewed for a long time, at least since the Nixon-JFK televised debates, whose outcome was widely attributed not to JFK’s ideas, but to Nixon’s terrible TV manner.

Neil Postman’s 1985 “Amusing Ourselves To Death” was a watershed here, comparing the soundbitey Reagan-Dukakis debates with the long, rhetorically complex Lincoln-Douglas debates of the previous century.

(Incidentally, when I finally experienced those debates for myself, courtesy of the 2009 BBC America audiobook, I was more surprised by Lincoln’s unequivocal, forceful repudiations of slavery abolition than by the rhetoric’s nuance)

https://memex.craphound.com/2009/01/20/lincoln-douglas-debate-audiobook-civics-history-and-rhetoric-lesson-in-16-hours/

“Media literacy” scholarship entered the spotlight, and its left flank — epitomized by Chomsky’s 1988 “Manufacturing Consent” — claimed that an increasingly oligarchic media industry was steering society, rather than reflecting it.

Thus, when the internet was demilitarized and the general public started trickling — and then rushing — to use it, there was a widespread hope that we might break free of the tyranny of concentrated, linear programming (in the sense of “what’s on,” and “what it does to you”).

Much of the excitement over Napster wasn’t about getting music for free — it was about the mix-tapification of all music, where your custom playlists would replace the linear album.

Likewise Tivo, whose ad-skipping was ultimately less important than the ability to watch the shows you liked, rather than the shows that were on.

Blogging, too: the promise was that a community of reader-writers could assemble a daily “newsfeed” that reflected their idiosyncratic interests across a variety of sources, surfacing ideas from other places and even other times.

The heady feeling of the time is hard to recall, honestly, but there was a thrill to getting up and reading the news that you chose, listening to a playlist you created, then watching a show you picked.

And while there were those who fretted about the “Daily Me” (what we later came to call the “filter bubble”) the truth was that this kind of active media creation/consumption ranged far more widely than the monopolistic media did.

The real “bubble” wasn’t choosing your own programming — it was everyone turning on their TV on Thursday nights to Friends, Seinfeld and The Simpsons.

The optimism of the era is best summarized in a taxonomy that grouped media into two categories: “lean back” (turn it on and passively consume it) and “lean forward” (steer your media consumption with a series of conscious decisions that explores a vast landscape).

Lean-forward media was intensely sociable: not just because of the distributed conversation that consisted of blog-reblog-reply, but also thanks to user reviews and fannish message-board analysis and recommendations.

I remember the thrill of being in a hotel room years after I’d left my hometown, using Napster to grab rare live recordings of a band I’d grown up seeing in clubs, and striking up a chat with the node’s proprietor that ranged fondly and widely over the shows we’d both seen.

But that sociability was markedly different from the “social” in social media. From the earliest days of Myspace and Facebook, it was clear that this was a sea-change, though it was hard to say exactly what was changing and how.

Around the time Rupert Murdoch bought Myspace, a close friend a blazing argument with a TV executive who insisted that the internet was just a passing fad: that the day would come when all these online kids grew up, got beaten down by work and just wanted to lean back.

To collapse on the sofa and consume media that someone else had programmed for them, anaesthetizing themselves with passive media that didn’t make them think too hard.

This guy was obviously wrong — the internet didn’t disappear — but he was also right about the resurgence of passive, linear media.

But this passive media wasn’t the “must-see TV” of the 80s and 90s.

Rather, it was the passivity of the recommendation algorithm, which created a per-user linear media feed, coupled with mechanisms like “endless scroll” and “autoplay,” that incinerated any trace of an active role for the “consumer” (a very apt term here).

It took me a long time to figure out exactly what I disliked about algorithmic recommendation/autoplay, but I knew I hated it. The reason my 2008 novel LITTLE BROTHER doesn’t have any social media? Wishful thinking. I was hoping it would all die in a fire.

Today, active media is viewed with suspicion, considered synonymous with Qanon-addled boomers who flee Facebook for Parler so they can stan their favorite insurrectionists in peace, freed from the tyranny of the dread shadowban.

But I’m still on team active media. I would rather people actively choose their media diets, in a truly sociable mode of consumption and production, than leaning back and getting fed whatever is served up by the feed.

Today on Wired, Duke public policy scholar Philip M Napoli writes about lean forward and lean back in the context of Trump’s catastrophic failure to launch an independent blog, “From the Desk of Donald J Trump.”

https://www.wired.com/story/opinion-trumps-failed-blog-proves-he-was-just-howling-into-the-void/

In a nutshell, Trump started a blog which he grandiosely characterized as a replacement for the social media monopolists who’d kicked him off their platforms. Within a month, he shut it down.

While Trump claimed the shut-down was all part of the plan, it’s painfully obvious that the real reason was that no one was visiting his website.

Now, there are many possible, non-exclusive explanations for this.

For starters, it was a very bad social media website. It lacked even rudimentary social tools. The Washington Post called it “a primitive one-way loudspeaker,” noting its lack of per-post comments, a decades old commonplace.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2021/05/21/trump-online-traffic-plunge/

Trump paid (or more likely, stiffed) a grifter crony to build the site for him, and it shows: the “Like” buttons didn’t do anything, the video-sharing buttons created links to nowhere, etc. From the Desk… was cursed at birth.

But Napoli’s argument is that even if Trump had built a good blog, it would have failed. Trump has a highly motivated cult of tens of millions of people — people who deliberately risked death to follow him, some even ingesting fish-tank cleaner and bleach at his urging.

The fact that these cult-members were willing to risk their lives, but not endure poor web design, says a lot about the nature of the Trump cult, and its relationship to passive media.

The Trump cult is a “push media” cult, simultaneously completely committed to Trump but unwilling to do much to follow him.

That’s the common thread between Fox News (and its successors like OANN) and MAGA Facebook.

And it echoes the despairing testimony of the children of Fox cultists, that their boomer parents consume endless linear TV, turning on Fox from the moment they arise and leaving it on until they fall asleep in front of it (also, reportedly, how Trump spent his presidency).

Napoli says that Trump’s success on monopoly social media platforms and his failure as a blogger reveals the role that algorithmically derived, per-user, endless scroll linear media played in the ascendancy of his views.

It makes me think of that TV exec and his prediction of the internet’s imminent disappearance (which, come to think of it, is not so far off from my own wishful thinking about social media’s disappearance in Little Brother).

He was absolutely right that this century has left so many of us exhausted, wanting nothing more than the numbness of lean-back, linear feeds.

But up against that is another phenomenon: the resurgence of active political movements.

After a 12-month period that saw widescale civil unrest, from last summer’s BLM uprising to the bizarre storming of the capital, you can’t really call this the golden age of passivity.

While Fox and OANN consumption might be the passive daily round of one of Idoru’s “vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organisms craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed,” that is in no way true of Qanon.

Qanon is an active pastime, a form of collaborative storytelling with all the mechanics of the Alternate Reality Games that the lean-forward media advocates who came out of the blogging era love so fiercely:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/06/no-vitiated-air/#other-hon

Meanwhile, the “clicktivism” that progressive cynics decried as useless performance a decade ago has become an active contact sport, welding together global movements from Occupy to BLM that use the digital to organize the highly physical.

That’s the paradox of lean-forward and lean-back: sometimes, the things you learn while leaning back make you lean forward — in fact, they might just get you off the couch altogether.

I think that Napoli is onto something. The fact that Trump’s cultists didn’t follow him to his crummy blog tells us that Trump was an effect, not a cause (something many of us suspected all along, as he’s clearly neither bright nor competent enough to inspire a movement).

But the fact that “cyberspace keeps everting” (to paraphrase “Spook Country,” another William Gibson novel) tells us that passive media consumption isn’t a guarantee of passivity in the rest of your life (and sometimes, it’s a guarantee of the opposite).

And it clarifies the role that social media plays in our discourse — not so much a “radicalizer” as a means to corral likeminded people together without them having to do much. Within those groups are those who are poised for action, or who can be moved to it.

The ease with which these people find one another doesn’t produce a deterministic outcome. Sometimes, the feed satisfies your urge for change (“clicktivism”). Sometimes, it fuels it (“radicalizing”).

Notwithstanding smug media execs, the digital realm equips us to “express our mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire” by doing much more than “changing the channels on a universal remote” — for better and for worse.

Image: Ian Burt (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/oddsock/267206444

CC BY: https://creativecommo

ns.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic

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sorceressferaly · 3 years

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Hello fellow Mayalexer. I’d like to know what you think the long term consequences of the Ashland Volcano erupting would be? Sincerely, definitely not someone chronicling Jorvik.

Hello fellow Mayalex person who is definitely not a friend in real life to whom I hinted at that I wanted to answer this very question!

Something that is pretty interesting about large-scale volcanic eruptions is that they cause a lasting effect on the climate for the years to come.

"Little ice-ages" is a phenomenon that can be caused partially by volcanic eruptions, as the ashes linger in the stratosphere and block solar radiation. This leads to worldwide global cooling, which has resulted in harsh winters and poor harvests in the past.

In this post, I will compare a theoretical eruption of Garnok’s Fury with the eruption of an Icelandic volcano in 536, which had devastating consequences globally.

Warning: This might get pretty dark.

The year 536, volcanic eruptions were likely to be - or at the very least a major contributor to - the cause of a "darkening of the sky" where volcanic sulfur and particles coated the skies of the entire northern hemisphere and led to a major drop in temperatures for the next decade.

Catastrophic for the people alive by that time, and in the Mediterranean area a terrible plague named the Plague of Justinian* followed in the wake of the harsh conditions, killing millions.

“During this year a most dread portent took place. For the sun gave forth its light without brightness … and it seemed exceedingly like the sun in eclipse, for the beams it shed were not clear.” - Procopius, Byzantine historian, regarding the disastrous year 536.

Volcanic eruptions pose a danger stretching far beyond the initial eruption. Garnok's Fury would indeed have consequences of global reach!

So what would that mean for Jorvik? Well, if we consider that the consequences of the eruptions of 536 have been speculated by religious scholars to potentially be the source of myths such as the Fimbulvinter**, I think we can say that Jorvik is in for their very own ice age.

However, it's difficult to predict climate change directly in Jorvik, since the climate on the island is influenced not only by volcanic energy but very much by the inherent magic that exists on the island.

For this reason, while I believe that Jorvik wouldn't be covered in ice that would make the island completely uninhabitable, the people of Jorvik would be in for a harsh time.

The most immediate effect, as I mentioned in my previous post, would be the destruction of the dam in the Great Reservoir, which is said to provide most of the electricity and drinking water in Jorvik.

While we don't know the exact size or volume of the Great Reservoir, we know that Lisa describes it as more of an ocean than a dam, and old Jorvegian tales have said that it is bottomless. "Bottomless" is a bit difficult to calculate though, so to find a real-life Jorvik comparison, I'm going to look at a pretty big dam instead.

Karahnjukavirkjun in Iceland is capable of generating 4600 GWh of power annually, which according to the US Bureau of Reclamation is enough to provide electricity to about 1.5 million people. Since the population of Jorvik is likely below a million as Jorvik is supposed to be a relatively small and overlooked island nation on the world stage (only about 350.000 people live on Iceland) this one generator should cover most of Jorvik’s needs.

However, Karahnjukavirkjun is meant to generate power to the Icelandic aluminum industry. Aluminum production requires a ridiculous amount of energy... but Jorvik has no such industry. In fact – Jorvik doesn’t seem to host much of an industry at all!

I asked @jorvegian-chronicler for a second opinion on the industries of Jorvik, and besides raising horses and manufacturing equipment for equestrian needs, it seems like the largest industries on Jorvik would likely be the drilling/mining of natural resources such as oil/gas and fishing/farming second. These industries would have far less need of energy than aluminum production, and thus, the Great Reservoir may be the only source of hydroelectric power production on Jorvik.

However, hydroelectric power is not the only power source on Jorvik. Just like Iceland, Jorvik is likely to have access to a great amount of geothermal power and may use that to provide central heating - which the Jorvegians will likely need once the sky goes dark. There are also the aforementioned great reserves of oil and gas around the island, but it seems like these resources are mainly mined by private companies and not used by the state to provide additional electricity (which they wouldn’t need anyway), so most of the fossil fuels produced on Jorvik might be export only.

Aside from electricity, Linda states in Darkness Falling that most of the drinking water in Jorvik comes from the Great Reservoir. The only canonical area we know that has its own water supply is Dundull and with no more information available we must assume that it is indeed the only local source of drinking water, and all larger settlements such as Jorvik City and Jarlaheim are completely dependent on the Great Reservoir.

We can also make the fairly safe assumption that any farmers on Jorvik rely on an irrigation system powered by freshwater from the Great Reservoir.

Armed with this knowledge (read: qualified guesswork) we can now start speculating what will happen in Jorvik’s own day after tomorrow.

When the dam breaches, it will release an enormous flood of water that will crush everything in its way, eliminating any settlements in the direction of the tidal wave of water that will mercilessly flow out of the broken dam. Canonical locations affected would be Meander Village and Pine Hill Manor. They would likely have some time available for evacuation, but so much for Mr. Sands.

The second effect would be the failure of most of the Jorvegian power grid. While central heating might be covered by geothermal power plants, light, household apparatuses, computers, and various entertainment systems would be shut down. There might be enough emergency power to provide power for an emergency broadcast or low-level lighting, but this emergency power wouldn’t last forever.

If Jorvik has any coal or oil-powered plants, they’d need to start working overtime to fill the power vacuum. However, with Jorvik being very environmentally conscious I believe they would have decommissioned most of the fossil-fueled power plants.

The third effect would be the loss of clean drinking water. You never realize how much water you use until the tap dries up. Mistfall lake seems to be an independent water source, and Silversong River could likely be fueled by meltwater from Dino Valley, but the largest cities in Jorvik – Jorvik City and Jarlaheim – would be without clean water.

There are wells placed around Jorvik that still would be fine to use, but those wells are mainly intended to provide water for the horses in Jorvik, not to provide water for the humans in the cities.

It seems odd to place all the eggs in a single basket by relying so much on this one dam, but I’m not one to question Linda on her knowledge of Jorvegian infrastructure.

A likely consequence is that the Jorvegians that can do so should seek their way to the countryside and smaller settlements. Any village with wells present has a source of groundwater which Jorvik City does not.

The Jorvegian government will have to arrange for water to be transported from other sources, and since Jorvik City is close to Dundull, giant tank trucks would likely be sent into the Mistfall national park in order to transport some of that water back to Jorvik City. . Perhaps GED can make a fortune here by selling Go! Energy Drinks?

Local wells wouldn’t be enough to support large-scale irrigation of agriculture, however, and it would be likely that harvests would fail all around Jorvik that year, as there wouldn’t be enough water available to provide enough for an agricultural industry.

This would be a huge hit to Jorvik’s economy, which relies on the fertile land for a large number of crops, and we all know that it doesn’t seem to rain nearly enough on Jorvik to make up for the loss of irrigation water.

If the harvests would be bad the first year, the subsequent years will be even worse, as the sun will be blocked out by volcanic particles which will lead to a cooldown over the entire northern hemisphere. Reports from the year 536 speak about crop failures and a “failure in bread”, implying that the large amounts of grain grown on Jorvik may not survive the colder climate.

Failing crops and poor harvests will lead to a huge economic deficit not only for the agricultural industry but for the equestrian industry as well. Much of the crops grown on Jorvik are not meant for the human population to consume, but rather to feed Jorvik’s obsession with the equestrian industry.

With an agricultural industry in decline over the next few years, it follows that the equestrian industry can no longer be supported to the same extent.

Several of the horse breeds imported to Jorvik over time may not have the build to survive the colder climate at this time and would need to be transported away from the island. Indigenous and cold-resistant breeds may have better luck, but with no agricultural industry to support them, it’s likely that the equestrian industry as a whole would need to downsize.

This would indirectly impact Jorvik’s tourism industry, as fewer young people would be spending their summer vacation in Jorvik for several years. In fact, Jorvik would likely not experience another summer for years to come!***

On the upside, Jorvik’s glue industry has a bright future ahead.

Fortunately, the fishing and fossil fuel industries wouldn’t be nearly as badly affected by the disaster. With crops failing, the fishing industry would be even more paramount for domestic food production, and Cape West might grow from a small fishing village to a large harbor to support the increased needs for fishing and shipping.

The fossil fuel industries would have to be relied on to provide domestic energy production until the dam can be rebuilt, as well as powering the boats used by the fishing industry.

This increased need for domestic use of fossil fuels would likely hurt Jorvik’s ability to export said fossil fuels, which may have far-reaching consequences globally, as peace never tends to be an option once oil is on the table. It’s unlikely that Jorvik makes up a major part of the global fossil fuel production, but such a sudden change in the worldwide fossil fuel distribution would likely have some consequences on the global market.

With the equestrian and agricultural industries failing, and the fishing and fossil fuel industries taking on more importance, more of Jorvik’s workforce would likely move to work in the industries that can offer them jobs. Carl Peterson is an experienced oil rig worker and would likely be forced to accept a job in the fossil fuel industry, leading to the Starshine Ranch falling into ruin.

Other people may be forced to leave Jorvik entirely, as the failure of the equestrian industry would mean the loss of tens of thousands of jobs in the whole country.

The construction industry would likely be staying strong. There would be a need to rebuild the dam around the Great Reservoir. Construction on the Kárahnjúkar Dam took five years to complete, so we may be looking at a similar timeframe. Hopefully, they will build it to be sturdier this time as to not break as soon as some Sun Circle teenager opens a portal to Pandoria, and also construct some backup plans in the other lakes around Jorvik.

All in all, there would doubtlessly be many years of hardship to face on Jorvik. Hardships that I’m not sure that druidic magic could help with as we’re assuming a completely natural eruption not caused by Garnok and the Hell Portal.

Linda may still be able to foresee the eruption, but if she’d try to warn anyone, she’d likely get the Cassandra**** treatment. Of course, perhaps there is something that the Soul Riders could do to stop it. We don’t know all of the magic that runs through Jorvik, and honestly, I’m sure Linda can find some ritual to banish the initial volcanic eruption to the moon. Moon Circle OP.

There would be a light at the end of the tunnel, as the sun would gradually grow stronger as the particles fade away, and warm, pleasant summers with plentiful harvests would return to Jorvik.

...

Whew, that was pretty dark.

These kinds of events tend to have far-reaching consequences, and I barely even touched on how the political, cultural, and social development could turn out following the eruption, destruction of the dam, and the long winter.

The forces of nature can be great and terrible, and I don’t think most of us tend to reflect on the awesome power of volcanoes nearly often enough. We are but specks of dust in comparison to the movement of the continental plates and the forces of the Earth. Hopefully, we will learn how to master them yet.

Thanks for reading – now please get some water, have a snack, and read something more lighthearted.

*Poor Justinian. For all he did as a Roman Emperor, his name lives on in a plague. Constantine got a city named after him. Julius and Augustus Ceasar each got a month. Justinian got the plague. That's rough, buddy.

**Fimbulvinter is the harsh winter that ends almost all life on Midgård and is the harbinger of Ragnarok in Norse mythology. It has been theorized that this myth was based on stories of harsh winters without any summers in between, that were passed down in oral tradition as tales of the future. Winter is coming, anyone?

***On the other hand, many might be happy that snow in Jorvik is finally back. Why let a little hemispherical disaster get in the way of enjoying the year-long winter?

****Cassandra was a seer and priestess of Apollo in the Illiad myth, cursed with the power to utter completely true prophesies but never be believed. I think Linda relates to her a lot on a personal level.

#sso #starstable #star stable online #volcanoes #long post #volcanic winters #jorvik #Nadia I hope you are happy :P

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jenniferisacommonname · 3 years

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Bonus Level Unlocked

This week marks the release of Jason Schreier’s Press Reset, an incredibly well-researched book on catastrophic business failure in the gaming industry. Jason’s a good dude, and there’s an excerpt here if you want to check it out. Sadly, game companies going belly-up is such a common occurrence that he couldn’t possibly include them all, and one of the stories left out due to space constraints is one that I happen to be personally familiar with. So, I figured I’d tell it here.

I began working at Acclaim Studios Austin as a sound designer in January of 2000. It was a tumultuous period for the company, including a recent rebranding from their former studio name, “Iguana Entertainment,” and a related, ongoing lawsuit from the ex-founder of Iguana. There were a fair number of ghosts hanging around—the creative director’s license plate read IGUANA, which he never changed, and one of the meeting rooms held a large, empty terrarium—but the studio had actually been owned on paper by Acclaim since 1995, and I didn’t notice any conflicting loyalties. Everyone acted as if we always had been, and always would be, Acclaim employees.

Over the next few years I worked on a respectable array of triple-A titles, including Quarterback Club 2002, Turok: Evolution, and All-Star Baseball 2002 through 2005. (Should it be “All-Stars Baseball,” like attorneys general? Or perhaps a term of venery, like “a zodiac of All-Star Baseball.”) At any rate, it was a fun place to work, and a platformer of hijinks ensued.

But let’s skip to the cutscene. The truth is that none of us in the trenches suspected the end was near until it was absolutely imminent. Yes, Turok: Evolution and Vexx had underperformed, especially when stacked against the cost of development, but games flop in the retail market all the time. And, yes, Showdown: Legends of Wrestling had been hustled out the door before it was ready for reasons no one would explain, and the New York studio’s release of a BMX game featuring unlockable live-action stripper footage had been an incredibly weird marketing ploy for what should have been a straightforward racing title. (Other desperate gimmicks around this time included a £6,000 prize for UK parents who would name their baby “Turok,” an offer to pay off speeding tickets to promote Burnout 2 that quickly proved illegal, and an attempt to buy advertising space on actual tombstones for a Shadow Man sequel.)

But the baseball franchise was an annual moneymaker, and our studio had teams well into development on two major new licenses, 100 Bullets and The Red Star. Enthusiasm was on the upswing. Perhaps I should have paid closer attention when voice actors started calling me to complain that they hadn’t been paid, but at the time it seemed more like a bureaucratic failure than an actual money shortage—and frankly, it was a little naïve of them to expect net-30 in the first place. Industry standard was, like, net-90 at best. So I was told.

Then one Friday afternoon, a few department managers got word that we’d kind of maybe been skipping out on the building lease for let’s-not-admit-how-many months. By Monday morning, everyone’s key cards had been deactivated.

It's a little odd to arrive at work and find a hundred-plus people milling around outside—even odder, I suppose, if your company is not the one being evicted. Acclaim folks mostly just rolled their eyes and debated whether to cut our losses and head to lunch now, while employees of other companies would look dumbfounded and fearful before being encouraged to push their way through the crowd and demonstrate their still-valid key card to the security guard. Finally, the General Manager (hired only a few months earlier, and with a hefty relocation bonus to accommodate his houseboat) announced that we should go home for the day and await news. Several of our coworkers were veterans of the layoff process—like I said, game companies go under a lot—and one of them had already created a Yahoo group to communicate with each other on the assumption that we’d lose access to our work email. A whisper of “get on the VPN and download while you can” rippled through the crowd.

But the real shift in tone came after someone asked about a quick trip inside for personal items, and the answer was a hard, universal “no.” We may have been too busy or ignorant to glance up at any wall-writing, but the building management had not been: they were anticipating a full bankruptcy of the entire company. In that situation, all creditors have equal standing to divide up a company's assets in lengthy court battles, and most get a fraction of what they’re owed. But if the landlords had seized our office contents in lieu of rent before the bankruptcy was declared, they reasoned, then a judge might rule that they had gotten to the treasure chest first, and could lay claim to everything inside as separate from the upcoming asset liquidation.

Ultimately, their gambit failed, but the ruling took a month to settle. In the meantime, knick knacks gathered dust, delivered packages piled up, food rotted on desks, and fish tanks became graveyards. Despite raucous protest from every angle—the office pets alone generated numerous threats of animal cruelty charges—only one employee managed to get in during this time, and only under police escort. He was a British citizen on a work visa, and his paperwork happened to be sitting on his desk, due to expire. Without it, he was facing literal deportation. Fortunately, a uniformed officer took his side (or perhaps just pre-responded to what was clearly a misdemeanor assault in ovo,) and after some tense discussion, the building manager relented, on the condition that the employee touch absolutely nothing beyond the paperwork in question. The forms could go, but the photos of his children would remain.

It’s also a little odd, by the way, to arrive at the unemployment office and find every plastic chair occupied by someone you know. Even odder, I suppose, if you’re actually a former employee of Acclaim Studios Salt Lake, which had shut down only a month or two earlier, and you just uprooted your wife and kids to a whole new city on the assurance that you were one of the lucky ones who got to stay employed. Some of them hadn’t even finished unpacking.

Eventually, we were allowed to enter the old office building one at a time and box up our things under the watchful eye of a court appointee, but by then our list of grievances made the landlords’ ploy seem almost quaint by comparison (except for the animals, which remains un-fucking-forgivable.) We had learned, for example, that in the weeks prior to the bankruptcy, our primary lender had made an offer of $15 million—enough to keep us solvent through our next batch of releases, two of which had already exited playtesting and were ready to be burned and shipped. The only catch was that the head of the board, company founder Greg Fischbach, would have to step down. This was apparently too much of an insult for him to stomach, and he decided that he'd rather see everything burn to the ground. The loan was refused.

Other “way worse than we thought” details included gratuitous self-dealing to vendors owned by board members, the disappearance of expensive art from the New York offices just before closure, and the theft of our last two paychecks. For UK employees, it was even more appalling: Acclaim had, for who knows how long, been withdrawing money from UK paychecks for their government-required pension funds, but never actually putting the money into the retirement accounts. They had stolen tens of thousands of dollars directly from each worker.

Though I generally reside somewhere between mellow and complete doormat on the emotional spectrum, I did get riled enough to send out one bitter email—not to anyone in corporate, but to the creators of a popular webcomic called Penny Arcade, who, in the wake of Acclaim’s bankruptcy announcement, published a milquetoast jibe about Midway’s upcoming Area 51. I told Jerry (a.k.a. “Tycho”) that I was frankly disappointed in their lack of cruelty, and aired as much dirty laundry as I was privy to at the time.

“Surely you can find a comedic gem hidden somewhere in all of this!” I wrote. “Our inevitable mocking on PA has been a small light at the end of a very dark, very long tunnel. Please at least allow us the dignity of having a smile on our faces while we wait in line for food stamps.”

Two days later, a suitably grim comic did appear, implying the existence of a new release from Acclaim whose objective was to run your game company into the ground. In the accompanying news post, Tycho wrote:

“We couldn’t let the Acclaim bankruptcy go without comment, though we initially let it slide thinking about the ordinary gamers who lost their jobs there. They don’t have anything to do with Acclaim’s malevolent Public Relations mongrels, and it wasn’t they who hatched the Titty Bike genre either. Then, we remembered that we have absolutely zero social conscience and love to say mean things.”

Another odd experience, by the way, is digging up a 16-year-old complaint to a webcomic creator for nostalgic reference when you offer that same creator a promotional copy of the gaming memoir you just co-wrote with Sid Meier. Even odder, I suppose, to realize that the original non-Acclaim comic had been about Area 51, which you actually were hired to work on yourself soon after the Acclaim debacle.*

As is often the case in complex bankruptcies, the asset liquidation took another six years to fully stagger its way through court—but in 2010, we did, surprisingly, get the ancient paychecks we were owed, plus an extra $1,700-ish for the company’s apparent violation of the WARN Act. By then, I had two kids and a very different life, for which the money was admittedly helpful. Sadly, Acclaim’s implosion probably isn’t even the most egregious one on record. Our sins were, to my knowledge, all money-related, and at least no one was ever sexually assaulted in our office building. Again, to my knowledge. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure we remain the only historical incident of corporate pet murder. The iguana got out just in time.

*Area 51’s main character was voiced by David Duchovny, and he actually got paid—which was lucky for him, because three years later, Midway also declared bankruptcy.

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yetiatmydoor · 3 years

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November 2nd, 2021

Current temperature 38° F

As temperatures begin to plummet it has occurred to me that I have almost no record of The Winter of My Discount Tent. This seems to be a missed opportunity, a great deal was learned last year about how not to freeze to death when exiled from my own home because my lovely girlfriend has suddenly decided she can no longer tolerate my smoking, despite knowing exactly what she was getting into over a decade ago. Ahem. Ideally I would have built a solid refuge from the cold over the summer, however delays involving two jobs, low funds, medical concerns, and infernal suicidal machines have left me in a similar situation to last year, with cold weather moving in more swiftly than planned and without adequate shelter or funds. To remedy this, I have placed an order for an Eskimo Quickfish 3i, an insulated ice fishing shelter. It comes well reviewed, I have little doubt that with a heater it will be sufficient to combat the cold, being designed to be set up on frozen lakes with little to no windbreaks, I believe it shall not die as ignominious a death as my previous shelter, and while snow load may be a concern, the hub design should lead to the tent spontaneously unpitching itself rather than catastrophic failure of its structural components. Perhaps not over engineered to hell and back as would be my preference, but the price was, barely, within my means and unlike last year, this has potential. Heating options will begin with electric, moving to propane as soon as I can afford to refill the tanks. Planned upgrades include longer stakes, as those included are too short to account for the transition from ice to soil. Also a hose allowing me to run my propane heater off a 15lb cylinder, the 1lb camping cylinders were woefully insufficient last year. Flooring with drainage, lighting, furniture, power and other miscellany will be hammered out after I can see what the assembled shelter will accommodate. Delivery is scheduled for tomorrow, given that our first, blessedly miniscule snowfall, was sighted yesterday, this is not a moment too soon. I will attempt to gather my thoughts on last winter and provide more background with my next update.

#winter is coming #first attempt #second really #making fun of myself #pompous ramblings of a nicotine addict #deadpan

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miraphoenix · 4 years

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Long, long rambling; ecology and caring and no good conclusions

I guess that’s the thing about ecological apocalypse, right? Because the loss of any one part of the system is a profound loss, even if western science won’t see the relevance until after the loss has happened. (A large part of my training is in ecology. This failure to understand all the variables happens a lot, and sometimes, we’re lucky enough to try and fix the fuckup; see wolves in Yellowstone. But a lot of times... Well.)

I’m thinking right now, about the Iberian lynx. Severely endangered, because of the usual reasons; habitat fragmentation, and poaching for their pretty fur. Cut the population down to 94 animals in 2002. All of them were brought in for the conservation effort, to save the species; in the process, all the lynx were given a flea dip. In one fell swoop, an entire species went extinct. Not the lynx, but a species of louse that lived nowhere else. If all members of that species aren’t gone, they are now so severely endangered that I am unaware of their presence being recorded.

Now, that’s not a shiny, pretty example; a louse is a louse, and who feels compassion for a parasite? (I do, but that’s beside the point.) But its existence was important. What do we lose, when these “invisible” losses happen? What interactions will never be seen again? This is what I mean, when I say that western ecologists are always playing catch-up, that we genuinely do not know all of the variables at play for species loss, how the severing of one thread can unravel the tapestry.

Now, I’m not anti-ecology, or anti-science. I’m literally a biologist, it’s my training and my passion, and also my professional job. What I mean to say here, is that the world is fucking complicated, and outside of rare, highly-studied ecosystems, knowing how each individual piece will impact another is extremely subject to the data you have, and you can only analyze the data you know about. ie, even if you have data that will fill in a gap for you, if you can’t even see that there’s a gap, you won’t look at the data in that way. An example: I’m convinced my first research project failed because I and my advisor didn’t take into account fish vocalizations, in part because there was no literature talking about this species of fish vocalizing. But every time I look at the data, it seems that two fish who never saw or smelled each other had already made a decision about whose territory the tank was, and I think it’s because they could hear each other. I tried to talk about that to my advisor, and until I showed her a paper in triggerfish, she didn’t believe it was possible. And I guess that’s what I mean here; I missed a variable because the field failed to conceive of a variable.

Now magnify that out over a whole ecosystem. It’s full of vast unknowns. And western science doesn’t even know what unknowns are there until something perturbs them, disrupts the sequence, potentially forever. (I’m thinking of invasive earthworms in the Northeast US woods, the damage that’s done to the understory through accelerated removal of leaf litter and nursery logs.)

And just... I struggle. I struggle a lot. I grew up in a mostly-white town in the middle of a rural area. People around here... They don’t give a shit for the ecology they spray round-up all over underneath their feet. They certainly don’t give two shits for an ecology half a world away, even though that ecology absofuckinglutely can, will, and does impact their life. (A topical example is zoonotic diseases, not to be too blunt.)

And I don’t know how to make people give a shit. I don’t know how to make the chucklefuck next door understand that his dogs will have fewer ticks if he doesn’t take potshots at the opossums. On the opposite front, I don’t know how to convince the people in town that shooting and eating the overpopulated deer is necessary to enable the young trees in the forest to survive. I remember being in high school, trying to convince a bunch of WASPs that their pond algae wasn’t the fault of the school pond--also filled with algae--, but rather the farm about a mile and a half upstream. They wouldn’t believe it until I made a demonstration with a series of cups and fucking food dye, showing that fertilizer runs downstream, and even then, they were skeptical.

And I guess that’s the despair, for me. I fully believe there are solutions to the current climate catastrophe (I also don’t believe resource extractive technologies are the solution). But the despair to me is that the people I’m around just. Don’t seem to give a fuck? They off-hand wonder why they don’t see fireflies anymore, all the while burning their leaves and spraying pesticides on the grass. And they don’t see the disconnect.

Willing to talk more about this, but please don’t reblog.

#phoenix sounds #When I say this is long I mean it #It's also not very coherent but Oh Fucking Well #I have a lot of thoughts and they're not very well ordered #I deliberately cut myself off here but

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