#hours are base 12. inches to feet are base 12 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shanastoryteller · 2 years ago

Note

Happy Holidays Shana! Fem!MXY!WWX has infected my brain! More of that, please?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Wei Wuxian has the deafening talisman on his chest and a blindfold wrapped tightly around his face and held together with a different talisman so he doesn’t have to worry about it slipping. He leaves his sword sheathed for now – it wouldn’t do well to start out too strong.

He stands, loose and easy, but nothing happens. He huffs. “I really will punish you if you refuse to help me. I am your superior. Don’t overthink it, just do as you’re told.”

Rich advice, coming from him, but they don’t know that.

He feels the air move to his left and he lifts his hand, grabbing a slim wrist and twisting it so she has to let go of her sword. He yanks her forward, thinking of the moves he used to drill Shijie in, and pulls her over his shoulder and slams her to the ground.

He pops upright, bracing himself for the next attacks, but none come.

This is getting annoying.

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” he says. “Until I say otherwise, keep coming up at me. I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough.”

This time he feels their footsteps through the ground. Lazy. What, are they stomping? That has to be a funny image at least. He raises his sheathed sword to stop one attack, while kicking out his leg towards his other attacker. He aims too high, hitting meaty thigh instead of fragile knees, and has to throw himself on the ground to avoid the next attack. That does mean he’s low enough to yank their feet out from under them and then he rolls around just in time to avoid the attack that he’s pretty sure was coming from behind, which means his two opponents should have just taken themselves out.

“Someone remind me to assign footwork lessons after this,” he says. He’s just going to assume someone answers in the affirmative. They are Lans.

More come, two more sets of two before they figure out that’s not going to work, and then they’re attacking in groups of three and four. That’s when he stops being able to dodge every hit, but it’s also when his mind quiets. Everything slows down and he feels his lung expand, the sweaty grip he has on his sword sheath, and the growing collection of throbbing wounds across his body. He almost unsheathes his sword a dozen times, but this is good, he can almost feel his core straining and fighting against the confines of his body.

Finally. This is what he wanted. It’s not about thinking, fighting like this, just reacting, just trusting his borrowed body to notice things in time to react to them. It’s been close to an hour, his breaths are coming out more as wheezes, he’s at least twisted an ankle and possibly broken a rib, and he has some sort of head wound that’s causing blood to soak into his blindfold. It’s miserable and painful and not something this body is trained to handle, but he’s endured worse for longer. At last none of the Lans are trying to eat him.

Suddenly it all stops. He widens his stance, holding up his sword sheathe defensively, but nothing happens. “I didn’t stay stop,” he croaks. “Do as you’re told. Attack.”

The moment stretches on long enough that he’s getting genuinely annoyed about it when he’s throwing himself to the side, only realizing why when he feels the reverberation of a powerful cultivation blade hitting the ground next to him.

They’ve called in reinforcements, it seems. Maybe one of the elders? Fair enough, honestly.

Wei Wuxian unsheathes his sword, meeting the next blow more on a guess than anything else. The strength behind it is enough to send him skittering back several feet, but he doesn’t let his grip slip an inch. Then they’re pushing away from each other and he’s meeting the next blow based on what he would do, which probably isn’t fair to this random Lan elder, but oddly enough it works.

Every blow is powerful enough to make his bones shake and his opponent is skilled enough that Wei Wuxian can barely sense the air moving until it’s almost too late. His few minutes fighting this person are harder than the past hour of standing against disciples, but Wei Wuxian learned a long time ago how to compartmentalize his pain to keep fighting.

Doing this is making him stronger. He needs to be stronger to figure out what Mo Xuanyu wanted him to do. Mo Xuanyu killed herself to get his help. He can’t disappoint her.

He can’t give in.

New energy surges through him, bright and searing, painful even in its usefulness. He doesn’t let himself think about it, instead he pushes through, uses it to put his opponent on the defensive for once. Their fight is flowing faster, almost as if it’s a pattern, like they’re dancing instead of fighting.

Wei Wuxian feels a cool blade against his throat right as rests the edge of his sword on his opponent’s shoulder, flush against their neck.

A draw. Better than he’d expected, given his current physical condition.

His opponent doesn’t lower their sword, so he doesn’t either, but he does release the talismans with a burst of cultivation energy. At first he thinks it doesn’t work because everything is still so silent, but then he can hear the harshness of his own breathing and his blindfold slips off his face.

Lan Zhan is standing there, his sword at his throat, and his face pale and eyes wide. He’s hit with a dizzying sense of déjà vu. It’s like they’re fifteen again, on that rooftop with two bottles of Emperor’s smile dangling between them and the bright, fat moon hanging above.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks, his voice coming out too high and strangled.

This can’t be happening. He can’t know. He’ll hate him and throw him out if he doesn’t kill him outright and then Mo Xuanyu will have died for nothing and Sizhui will be so said and he won’t understand – and what if his siblings find out, that’s the last thing he wants –

He keeps his voice steady and face even as he asks, “Who is Wei Ying?”

Lan Zhan’s face shuts down. “I – please excuse me, Xuanyu.” He lowers his sword, turning and doing the closest thing to running away that Wei Wuxian has seen him do since they were teenagers.

All the Lans are staring at him and gaping. The adrenaline leaves him all at once and he collapses to the ground, his legs refusing to support him.

He groans and then several dozen Lans converge on him, multiple concerned shouts of, “Madame Lan!” nearly deafening him all over again.

It’s kind of nice, actually.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #math-is-magic #untamed #i feel like we need a non-wwx pov of this for full effect

671 notes · View notes

communicationthroughlyrics · 7 months ago

Text

I Like Your Blood On My Teeth Just A Little Too Much - 16

You're a former military, career oriented security executive who has made quite the living for yourself- but it has always been lacking. Your non-committal attitude has led you down a playgirl lifestyle, never really settling. What happens when your new boss throws you a curveball, and as a result? You end up hopelessly involved with a Hollywood starlet.

A/N: Shorter chapter, as I work through some of the thick stuff. TW- torture/abuse, brief mention of coma, blood. Definite angst.

2.2K Word Count

CH 16: You’re Gonna Get What’s Coming to You

“Now, aren’t you glad that you moved into these luxury apartments, that have… Every. Unit. Soundproofed?” He punctuated each word by cinching the knots on your hands and feet tighter before he tied your waist down to the base of the chair. “I’m not even going to bother trying to keep you quiet, no one will hear you anyway.”

“What do you mean, Waters…” you tapered off as he disappeared behind you. You grimaced as you felt cold steel at the base of your neck, a shiver being sent down your spine as he trailed it down your neck and he walked back in front of you. You could feel a slight warmth and a drip, so you knew he drew blood. “Waters, what are you doing? Do you think this is going to change anything?” You asked, watching as he took his time tracing some of your visible tattoos with the blade in his hand. At this point, you were glad you told Kris an hour. “This is only going to make things worse for you, Waters.”

“Shut. UP.” He snarled at you, before hooking the buttons of your shirt with the end of the knife, and slowly working it up, popping the buttons and sending them flying in various directions across your kitchen. “How about, you just keep that disgusting mouth of yours shut, hmmm?” He leaned in a wry smile on his features. “I think it��s been long overdue for you to get your last lesson, what do you think?” He ran the blade along the side of your face, giving you a cut that mirrored the scar that now ran along his face. In your research, you found out he had been involved in a nasty prison brawl that resulted in him receiving a large laceration on his face.

“Fuck off.” You growled back.

“Tsk tsk… such a shame.” He ran the blade again along your cheek, a sharp pain emanating as he cut from the bridge of your nose to the apex of your cheekbone. “You could have been good. Really good.” He continued to run the blade over various parts of your body but was concentrating on your face and neck, which made you extremely nervous. He suddenly grabbed your face, roughly, squeezing your jaw in a vise-like grip, forcing you to look at him. You watched as he brought the 12-inch blade up and felt him trace your jawline, before bringing the blade up and digging it into the scar on your eyebrow from all those years ago.

“Fuck!” You yelled as he dug the blade deeper, cutting further than your original scar had. You felt the blood begin to run down your face, burning as it pooled in your eye, blurring your vision. He laughed maniacally as you wiggled in the chair, working your wrists together to try and loosen the rope, which felt like it was only getting tighter. “Waters, just leave her alone. She was…she was just doing what she was paid to do. She isn’t even Russian, Waters. Just…just get your retribution with me… and leave her out of it…”

“Ohhh… Y/L/N. You cannot seriously believe that this is purely because of some character she played…” he paced in circles around you, so you let your head fall backward to keep the blood out of your eye. “This, this is a message, Y/L/N. We’re sending a message to the scum that everyone calls ‘Hollywood Elite’, that they are all tarnishing the image of this country you and I fought to protect.”

“What image is that, Waters?” You growl, your head hanging low as the blood from your face drips onto your knee, you watch it out of your good eye as it seeps into the fabric of your pants. He let out a maniacal laugh as he continued to walk around the chair you were tied to. You hoped to get him going on a tangent, to get him talking so it would take longer before he presumably did to you what he did all those years ago- and if you got him to talk enough, to stall enough, then I would be long enough for Kris to hopefully send someone to you.

“Hollywood, the film industry, has always portrayed this convoluted image of what this country is, what it stands for…” your laugh, disrupting his rant, and causing him to stop pacing. “SHUT. UP.” He points the knife in your direction, giving you a crazed look.

“Mmhmm. Okay. Continue.” You respond.

“As I was saying…They portray this nation through a lens. We are never the aggressor- always passive. The ways we are portrayed, it's like they want us to look… weak. Like we are too wrapped up in ourselves to care about what anyone else is doing. ”

“You’re delusional, Waters. We are literally like that.”

“SHUT. IT.” He screamed, slamming his hands onto the countertop behind you. You throw your hands up in defeat.

“Fine. Shutting it.”

“See?! You’re part of the fucking problem! You can’t honestly believe that we are oblivious to everything. We have threats from the inside, out. Your little project is one of them. You may believe that she is some poor little movie star, but she is part of the problem. You may believe she’s innocent in this, but she is just as guilty as the next guy. These movies your ‘client’ plays in, are popular, and they’re colorful. But they portray a simple, almost basic, and nonviable notion of what our combat looks like. What our hell looks like.”

“Waters, you and I have a different sense of what hell looks like.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N. You sent me to a literal hell on earth. You RUINED my life.”

“No, I didn’t do a damn thing, Steven. I merely existed, and YOU… you decided to act in the way you did. You ruined your life, I didn’t.”

“I was helping you.”

“Helping me, my ass.”

“Oh don’t pretend that a small part of you didn’t enjoy it. You know that part of you yearned for that kind of attention. To be normal.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I am normal. You’re the sick one in this equation.”

“Mhmm… keep telling yourself that. That is why this assignment is so… perfect. I can take care of the one who ruined me, and one of the largest celebrities ruining this country. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “STOP with the attitude.” He stands in front of you, lowering his gaze to your level. He runs the backside of the knife up your face, before placing the tip parallel to the scar over your eye. With a quick flick, he adds another cut. “Now, time for me to…finish what I started.”

You felt like it had been sufficiently long enough that someone should be here by now. You could feel the blood running down the right side of your face. You were about to look up, but the sudden force to the side of your face knocked you unconscious.

***KRIS POV***

“Fuck!” You screamed as the phone went straight to voicemail for the third time. You knew better, you really did. You knew she wouldn’t answer. She had put the phone in airplane mode. You knew that. You just hoped that she would answer. Slamming the phone onto your desk, you ran to the elevator, repeatedly pushing the button to Cliff and Paul's floor. “Cmon, cmon cmon… fucking slow ass elevator! I just need to get up there!” As soon as the door opened, you ran down the hall to Paul's office, barging into his office without knocking. The look of shock on his face says it all.

“Ms. Smith, what seems to be the issue?”

“It’s Y/L/N. Something is wrong.”

“Well, yes. That’s why we sent her home. She’s not right, right now.”

“No, no, NO! That’s not what I mean. She left, and I got a text from her. She said something wasn’t right, to bump Johanssons security, and if I didn’t hear from her in an hour that he was at her apartment. Something. Isn’t. Right.” You punctuate each point.

“Who is at her apartment, Smith?” Another voice asks. You turn, seeing Zlatkov sitting across the room.

“Waters, boss. They have a history. He isn’t just hunting Scarlett anymore. When he found out that her team was going to hire us, and that Y/N is our head of all major projects, he started following her too.”

“What makes you so certain Y/N was being followed?” Cliff asked.

“Shit… she, uhhh… she told me. Kind of. ”

“That makes no sense, Kris.” Paul chimed in.

“It started with someone watching from across the street from her apartment here. She was followed from her house in Montana, and she’s been getting calls. Each time, they’re not long enough to trace. All from different numbers. But they’re from him.”

“What am I missing here?” Cliff asked you and Paul. Paul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I think it’s time we make a little field trip,” Paul says, gathering his coat from the back of his chair. Cliff shoots you a confused look, and you just shrug.

“Hold on, I need to know what’s going on!” Cliff yells, causing both of you to look his way.

“Cliff, do you remember when we were in the process of hiring Y/N, and her military file was partially redacted?”

“Yes.”

You let out a deep sigh, knowing where this was going. You knew some of the details of what had happened to Y/N during her time in the Army, deep discussions that had been held in twilight hours, nights where there had been full of lust and passion. Nights that trust had been built, and you have a sneaky suspicion that the trust you had built was about to be shattered. You hadn’t been made privy to all the details, but enough that you knew why she did what she did, and what made her tick.

“Okay, we’ll keep that in mind. Now, let’s go. It doesn’t sound like we have much time. ” Paul looks your way, before turning and walking out of his office. You quickly followed Cliff right behind you.

“Where do we need to go?” Cliff asked, as Paul fished the keys to his work vehicle out of his pocket, and headed towards the elevator.

“We’re going to pay a visit to the one person besides Y/N who can give us some answers.”

The drive was silent and short, but to say that you and Cliff were both utterly confused when you pulled up in front of the hospital was an understatement.

“The only person who can give us some answers is Grange,” Paul answered the questioning look in the rearview mirror.

“But Grange is in a coma.” You respond eyebrow quipped as you climb out of the SUV.

“Nope. He was woken up this morning. I hadn’t gotten the chance yet to tell Y/L/N.” Paul responded as Cliff stood nodding his head.

“Ahh. So let's bombard him with the news that somebody that he regards as a daughter is likely being held by a psycho. And ask about her past. Awesome.” Paul cringed at the sarcasm, understanding your hesitance with this scenario.

“It’s not ideal, no. But it will give us an idea of who this guy really is… and why Y/N is so rattled.”

You all shuffled into the hospital, flashing your work badges to gain entry past the two guards standing by the elevator to the level Jim was on. Your company had set up multiple checkpoints, particularly with Jim being unconscious. The very real possibility of a retaliatory attack loomed, so guards and undercover were scattered throughout the hospital. The elevator door dinged, and you three walked down the corridor, towards the guarded room where Jim was. He was staring out the window as they approached, the sounds of their heels and shoes clicking down the hallway causing him to look their way. He had a smile, but it quickly faded as he realized how serious they were.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked as soon as everyone was in his room. Your stomach dropped as he looked right at you.

“That’s why we’re here, Grange. It would seem that a certain someone from her past has made an appearance. We wanted to ask you to fill in the blanks.” Paul unbuttoned his sports coat, sitting in one of the chairs at the end of the bed. Jimmy scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, you could say that sick son of a bitch is back. This isn’t just an appearance. But I’m confused as to why you need to ask me. It’s Y/N that needs to tell you. If she hasn’t, then she doesn’t want to tell anyone.”

Whew. He said what you were thinking the entire way over here.

“Well, unfortunately, it is now interfering with this project, and her work. So we need to know what you do.” Cliff chimed in.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself, then?” He looked between the three of you.

“That’s the thing, Jimmy. We think that he has her right now.” You finally spoke, Jim’s face going pale when he realized the weight of what was just said.

“Then…” he sighed, rubbing between his eyes. “You need to be helping her. Finding her. You can ask us after the fact. You shouldn’t be here asking me to tell you what only she can tell.”

CHAPTER 17

#communicatethrulyrics #wlw fanfic #ilybomtjaltm #scarlett johansson x fem!reader #scarlett johansson x you #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

33 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 months ago

Text

As Hurricane Milton roared toward the west coast of Florida on Tuesday and Wednesday, its 180-mile-per-hour winds weakened to 145 miles per hour, rose again, and then fell. What had been one of the quickest ever storms to reach Category 5 strength—which is when wind speeds top 156 mph—flicked back and forth between Categories 4 and 5. It ultimately arrived at the coast on Wednesday as a Category 3 storm, with winds of 125 mph.

But while Milton’s wind speed was reduced, the inundation of water forecast for Florida remained just as massive as before. Tampa, a city of 3 million that hasn’t taken such a direct hit in a century, faces a storm surge of 10 to 15 feet, along with nearby St. Petersburg and Sarasota, according to the National Hurricane Center. This comes less than two weeks after Hurricane Helene pushed an 8-foot surge into the area. Central and northern Florida could also see 12 inches of rainfall, with up to 18 inches in isolated areas.

That Milton could decrease in category but still threaten such a high storm surge and volume of rainfall shows a major shortcoming of the Saffir–Simpson scale, by which we assign hurricanes categories 1 through 5: It’s based solely on wind speed, even though in an era of climate change, hurricanes have been unleashing more and more water on cities. That has left hurricane forecasters trying to move beyond these categories and convey the risk of storm surge and flooding, so people will still evacuate even if wind speeds slacken.

“The public needs to not focus totally on the number in the category,” says Erik Salna, a meteorologist at the International Hurricane Research Center at Florida International University. “The fact that it has already been a major hurricane, it will still have that momentum, power, and force on the water. And the biggest killer is water, not the wind.”

The Saffir–Simpson scale is “a great way to show really the intensity of an open-water storm system,” says Brian Hurley of the US National Weather Service. “But it should not be the end-all be-all for diagnosing the threats.”

Modern hurricane forecasting was born in 1943, when a US Army Air Corps pilot flew a two-person propeller plane into the eye of a hurricane on a barroom dare, and then repeated the stunt with a meteorologist on board. This gave birth to subsequent innovations like aerial surveys, but while these gave weather watchers a lot more data—on how low the barometric pressure in the storm had fallen, how fast a hurricane was spinning, and how fast it was moving toward shore—they still struggled to express the level of danger to the public.

For instance, in 1969, many residents of Mississippi failed to evacuate before Hurricane Camille slammed into the coast with estimated winds of up to 200 miles per hour, despite detailed weather reports, and 256 people died. National Hurricane Center director Robert Simpson subsequently decided to adopt a categorization of hurricane wind speed developed by his friend, Miami civil engineer Herbert Saffir, leading to the Saffir–Simpson scale. Simple and evocative, it gave even the most uninformed people the sense that categories 3, 4, and 5 are major hurricanes, with major destructive potential.

“Its great advantage is everybody knows it, and everybody more or less knows what to be afraid of,” says Richard Olson, director of the International Hurricane Research Center.

This simplicity comes at a price, however. Since it’s based on the maximum wind speed achieved, the scale doesn’t say anything about the size of a storm. Hurricane Katrina, for instance, hit New Orleans in 2005 as a Category 3, weaker than Camille. But it was much larger, with hurricane-force winds extending 105 miles from its center rather than 60 miles for Camille, and it did a lot more damage.

The scale also doesn’t address flooding—neither the storm surge of ocean water pushed onshore by a hurricane, nor the heavy rainfall it dumps as it passes over land. Originally each category included an expected range of storm surge, but the National Hurricane Center removed this in 2010. That’s because factors besides just wind speed influence the surge. A hurricane that moves forward quickly or has a large radius will push more water onshore than a smaller, slower storm, especially if a shallow continental shelf forces that water mass upward. The storm surge will be higher when squeezed into a bay like the one around Tampa or when a hurricane barrels head-on into the coast rather than at an angle.

Hurricanes like Katrina showed the potential for confusion: The gigantic storm surge of up to 28 feet far exceeded the 12 feet predicted based on its Category 3 wind speed, corresponding instead to what would be expected from a Category 5. In response, StormGeo, an advisory firm that helps its clients decide when to shut down infrastructure like oil refineries and retail stores, developed the Hurricane Severity Index. “We realized the Saffir–Simpson scale didn't accurately reflect the storm-surge capabilities of a storm,” says StormGeo meteorologist Bob Weinzapfel. The index measures wind speed on a 25-point scale and a storm’s size—that is, how far these high winds extend—on another, to give a total rating out of 50, and compares that to historic hurricanes. By that index, Milton has 11 size points and 12 intensity points.

For its part, the National Hurricane Center started issuing storm surge watches and warnings in addition to categorizing hurricanes based on windspeed. Its bulletins now also include risks of rainfall, tornadoes, and high surf.

“We’ve worked to separate the impacts to best represent areas on the immediate coast and for those a few miles to hundreds of miles away,” says Maria Torres, a meteorologist at the center.

But the Saffir–Simpson scale remains the key measurement, unless you have the time to click deeper into your regional weather service website. And as climate change supercharges hurricanes, which are fueled by warm water and air, the sufficiency of the system's five categories is increasingly coming into question. After Milton’s wind speed skyrocketed from a 60 mph tropical storm to a 180 mph Category 5 hurricane in only 36 hours, experts are again discussing whether a Category 6 needs to be added.

Milton’s enormous storm surge has also highlighted the growing danger from water. More intense hurricanes are pushing higher storm surges due to sea-level rise. These “hurricanes on steroids,” as Olson calls them, are also dumping larger amounts of rain inland, just as Hurricane Helene did in North Carolina late last month. Between 2013 and 2022, flooding due to heavy rainfall accounted for a whopping 57 percent of hurricane deaths, with storm surges responsible for another 11 percent, according to the National Hurricane Center. Wind caused only 12 percent.

The International Hurricane Research Center is known for its “wall of wind,” a hangar of 12 giant yellow fans that can generate 157 mph winds to test the resilience of building materials. Now it has a $13 million federal grant to design and prototype a new facility with 200 mph fans and a 500-meter wave pool, to test the effects of windier, wetter hurricanes.

“That’s real-world. You don’t get just wind, just water, just wave. You get all three,” Olson says.

Some meteorologists say we need a different scale entirely. Carl Schreck, a research scientist at North Carolina State University, has proposed a Category 1–5 scale based on sea-level pressure to better incorporate water. A low pressure boosts both wind speed and storm size, and larger storms tend to have bigger surges and more rain. A Category 5 would be a hurricane with a pressure lower than 925 millibars. By this measurement, Milton would have remained a Category 5 until mid-Wednesday rather than vacillating between 4 and 5.

“Pressure is easier to measure, easier to forecast, and matters more for damage, but NHC, through inertia, they’re tied to the current system, and they think changing it would confuse people, unless there’s a silver bullet,” Schreck says. “And there is no silver bullet.”

No single number can capture all hurricane impacts. That was demonstrated by Helene, which made landfall in Florida as a Category 4 but unleashed “biblical” rainfall hundreds of miles inland in Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina. The storm killed more than 200 people, half of them in western North Carolina, where mountain valleys channeled the rainfall into devastating floods. The impact was compounded by a tropical storm that showered the Carolinas with historic rainfall two days before Helene.

Before Helene hit, forecasts compared its rainfall to hurricanes Frances and Ivan, which brought up to 18 inches of rain to some parts of North Carolina in 2004, triggering 400 landslides and killing 11. They also cited a record-setting flood in 1916, warning that the “impacts will be life-threatening.” The storm two days before Helene was described as a “once-in-a-thousand-year event.” But the fact that so many people died nonetheless shows a “communication disconnect” between our storm warning system and the public, says Schreck, who lives in Asheville and was without power and water for days.

He’s also helped develop an “enhanced rainfall” scale, where a Category 5 event pours five times as much rain as an area would get once every two years on average, a Category 4 dumps four times as much, and so on. The predicted rainfall would have made Helene a Category 3 extreme rainfall event in the mountains of North Carolina rather than just a Category 4 hurricane on the coast of Florida.

“Nobody knows what 500 or 1,000 years means. It’s basically inconceivable,” Schreck says of probability-based systems. “So it’s saying, take the biggest event you can remember and multiply it by three.”

Not everyone will evacuate even for a major storm, however, especially in a hurricane-weary state like Florida. More than a million people were under an evacuation order there for Milton, with Governor Ron DeSantis urging residents to “run from the water” and the mayor of Tampa warning those who don’t are “going to die.” But one mother named Amanda Moss went viral with TikTok videos saying she didn’t have the money for flights and hotels to evacuate her husband, mother-in-law, six children, and four French bulldogs from Fort Meyers, which faces up to 12 feet of storm surge. In the comments, some other users said they were also staying put, arguing they couldn’t get off work or were worried about gas shortages.

It’s not just “a pride or an ego thing,” as Moss put it. Thirteen percent of Americans wouldn’t be able to cover an emergency expense of $400, and 38 percent would have to pay with a credit card, sell a possession, or take out a loan to cover it, according to the Federal Reserve.

“There is not like one sentence that you can get on air and say that is going to get everybody to evacuate,” says Samantha Montano, an assistant professor of emergency management at Massachusetts Maritime Academy, who favors retiring the Saffir–Simpson scale altogether.

Rather than wind speed or sea-level pressure categories, hurricane forecasts should focus on local impacts in certain areas, she says. For Tampa right now, that’s 15 feet of water in the streets, winds that could tear off your roof, and rainfall that can overwhelm drainage systems and wreck your car.

“Any scale that we’re using to communicate with the public that isn’t accounting for what impacts are isn’t going to capture what the public needs to capture in order to be able to understand the risk,” Montano says.

13 notes · View notes

thefangdomcryptid · 9 months ago

Text

Eve Charactersheet

Multifandom Edition

Masterlist (Coming soon)

Character name: Eve de Lioncourt (née Eve Archidamou)

Quote: "Zeus may have healed my scars and my mangled hands, but the pain within my soul, the suffering within my very essence never allows me any respite. For over 3000 years I have relived my trauma as if it happened to me yesterday."

Race: Albino Snow Wereleopard.

Gender: Female

Orientation: Panromantic Graysexual

Pairings:

Baldur's Gate 3: Astarion/Minthara as main romances.

House of The Dragon: Aemond/Daemon Targaryen

The Originals: Klaus/Elijah Mikaelson

Age:

3000+ years old. Her human age is based on modern viewpoints meaning she became of marrying age when she was 18, and when she accepted Zeus' gift, she was 21.

Place of Residence:

Baldur's Gate

New York (pre Faerun)

Konigswald (Near the German-Swiss border, Black Forest region)

Deity: Unaligned *before that, her parents worshipped Aphrodite. After their untimely deaths and Eve's abduction, she served Hera.*

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral/True Neutral

Personality:

MBTI: ENFP (Campaigner).

Enneagram: Type 4 (The individualist)

OCEAN: 96, 62.5, 67, 44, 40

Character Archetype: Explorer

Star sign: Pisces

Jobs: Bard, Healer, Midwife.

Musical Proficiencies: Harp, flute, lute, lyre, hurdy gurdy, hand drum, violin, piano, guitar (acoustic and electric), bass guitar, drums, singing and Kulning/Jodeling.

Language Proficiencies:

Ancient tongues: Ancient Greek, Latin, Germanic, Basque, Icelandic, Gaelic, Finnish, Sanskrit, Persian.

Modern Tongues: Greek, Dutch, Flemish, French, German, Spanish, Portuguese, English, Danish, Norwegian, Swedish, Icelandic, Finnish, Russian.

Currently learning (not proficient yet): Japanese, Chinese, Arabic.

Powers and Abilities

Eve’s powers include but are not limited to:

Shapeshifting: Can shapeshift at will without needing the sun or moon, she is aware and in control when in their werecat form. In human form, they retain all the same powers they have when in cat form.

Superhuman strength: Eve possess superhuman strength sufficient to lift about 10 tons, enough force to deform a 1-inch-thick steel bar with ease. Her physical strength also extends, to a lesser degree, to powerful leg muscles allowing her to perform a standing jump of 12 feet in height.

Superhuman stealth: Ninjas have nothing on Eve. If she has your scent, and you are on the menu, you’ll never see or hear her coming, not in human form and not in cat form.

Superhuman speed: Eve could outrun a regular Cheetah if she wanted to (known to run as fast as 70 miles per hour) by speeds as high as 80 to 90 mph.

Superhuman senses: Eve’s senses are about fifteen times stronger than an average human and 7,5 times more potent than an average cat. She has no problems finding her way in the dark, seeing as well as if it were daylight. Her hearing is so acute, Eve can hear a pin drop at a range of 50 feet, even if other noises are surrounding them. Her sense of smell is highly developed; it’s easy for her to sort through various odors to follow a target’s trail. She can even tell a person is lying due to subtle scent changes in the composition of sweat. Eve’s also very acutely aware of other people’s moods.

Superhuman reflexes: Again, ninja-like reflexes, the finest athlete and warrior to ever exist.

Superhuman agility: Her agility, balance, and bodily coordination are beyond that of even the finest athletes.

Healing ability: Due to her immortal status injuries she sustains cannot kill her and she heals immediately.

Claws: In human form, Eve has retractable claws and teeth.

Charm: Eve is the only Albino Snow Leopard in existence that can persuade human beings and animals to do her bidding with her voice, if she so chooses. Never having to pay for designer clothes for one, or always having free meals, that sort of thing.

Fireproof: Eve is immune to fire. She doesn’t burn, no matter how hot the fire is, she can’t be harmed by hot pokers, and she can’t be branded.

Bio

Eve was born in Athens to wealthy parents, also known as Aristoi, making her Greek nobility. Her parents had trouble conceiving and turned to their patron deity Aphrodite for help, who then blessed the family with a daugher that had a beauty that could rival her own.

When Eve came of marrying age, tragedy struck her family, and Eve was abducted by a wealthy brothel owner and her household decimated. For two years, the man did and let other people do unspeakable things to her, until Zeus, in the guise of a young wealthy patron paid the man a wealthy sum to hire her services as a hetaira.

When he revealed himself as Zeus, after gaining her trust, he offered her immortality and powers in exchange for her becoming one of his wives. Stuck between a God's offer and the risk of his wifes' wrath or certain death if she went back, Eve accepted his offer. Besides immortality, he gave her the ability to shapeshift into an animal he thought fit her, which was an Albino Snow Leopard, so he could sneak her into Olympus without Hera noticing. While being okay with that power, and Zeus restoring her body and hands to their original unharmed state, Eve negotiated two other powers: The ability to charm people and animals with her voice, and she wanted to be fireproof, both powers in relation to her trauma. Zeus agreed, but made it so she could only charm humans and animals. After all, he couldn't have her charming him.

Soon enough Hera showed up on her doorstep. While she was furious, she saw an opportunity to get back at her husband and to grant Eve her revenge on her previous captor. While she granted Eve superior agility, speed, reflexes, strength and better senses than her animal counterpart, she also left behind a few not so nice surprises Eve would eventually discover on her own.

After enacting her revenge, Eve stayed at Hera's side until the Greek Pantheon fell and Hera set her free so she could find her own way in the world.

Portal to the Forgotten Realms

In a desperate attempt to be together with Elijah Mikaelson and to be rid of Klaus, Eve travels to New Orleans to find anything that can help.

As she explores the French Quarter, a small shop catches her eye, tucked away between a bookstore and an antiques dealer. There was a strange energy radiating from it, and Eve notices that no one seemed to be aware of its presence there, save for her. Intrigued and drawn to it, she enters the building, the door creaking open and the ring of a little brass bell chiming through the space alerting whomever owns the shop that a new customer has arrived. When no one shows, Eve decides to browse it on her own.

The shop itself seems to be a lot more spacious on the inside than it looked on the outside, and while the outside didn’t give anything away, the inside seemed to be an art gallery of some sort, with pristine white walls covered in paintings of all shapes, sizes and subjects. There were also easels of differing sizes, displaying artworks as well.

“Klaus would love this place,” she mutters to herself, her eyes scanning the art.

As she moves through the space, a canvas set on an easel catches her eye. It’s an oil painting named “The Forgotten Realms,” and depicts a big, lively city surrounded by water. As she studies the artwork, it feels like it’s alive, as if it’s moving in front of Eve’s eyes. Fascinated, she reaches out to touch the canvas, and her fingers make contact, the surface ripples as if it’s water, its watery tendrils snaking around her hand and arm, forcefully dragging her through the surface. Eve leans back, pulling and tugging against the tendrils to break herself free, to no avail. Eve is yanked through, tossed about, twisted and turned around as if she’s in a centrifuge, and then spat out on a beach near what is known in Faerun as Wyrm’s Crossing, between Rivington and Baldur’s Gate.

With no clue where she landed and no knowledge of the customs, religion or the people, she wanders into Rivington. Her attire earns her some strange looks, so with her ability to charm people, she gets herself some clothes, money and food. She finds her way into the city, securing herself a place to stay, and while she tries to find a way home, earns her keep as a bard, until she is abducted by a Nautiloid, waking up on the beach near Emerald Grove soon after.

Dark urge

The Dark Urge in my version of the game is dead, murdered by Orin in her chambers. When Eve lands in Westeros, with her bloodlust, Bhaal senses her presence, and knows her to be his true heir, even though she is not from the same plane of existence, and she is immortal, which Bhaal cannot change. That of course, doesn’t matter to the God, because he wants her all the same, given that she who travels between dimensions could make his grand plan even grander.

At first, Eve doesn’t feel any different, until she kills for the first time to sate her urge, and it isn’t enough, as if her desires have been amplified, voices in her head whispering to her to kill, to spill blood.

There’s two ways this can go: Eve resists the urge, breaking free from Bhaal’s plan for her, or she is seduced by his darkness and embraces her future of bloodlust.

Targaryen Chronicles ( Werecat AU)

Instead of going to New Orleans, Eve puts her trust in Elijah, who is working tirelessly for them to be together. When he chooses to save Klaus during the sun and moon ritual in Mystic Falls, Eve, feeling heartbroken and betrayed decides to leave, wearing an amulet made by Bonnie to ensure no one can use magical means to find her.

For about a year, Eve travels the world, and then settles down in Konigswald, a small city in the Black Forest near the German Swiss border. This is where she meets the Targaryen family (mainly Aemond, Daemon and Aegon) for the first time. They're immortal like her, chosen by their God to serve back in the day, and natural born Albino Snow Wereleopards.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 oc #dark urge #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 ocs #bg3 #bhaal babe #astarion x dark urge #astarion x durge #bg3 minthara #minthara x dark urge #aemond targaryen #daemon targaryen #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson

24 notes · View notes

jakesullysleftnipple · 1 year ago

Text

Mission With Miles

Chapter 12: Hayalovay “Until Next Time”

Miles and the team decided it was best to rest here and head home in the morning. Throughout the night members of the squad kept watch while others rest. You slept near a fallen tree, curled up by a patch of moss as your aching body rested. Miles couldn’t sleep so he sat a few inches beside you and did some work on his tablet. He often found himself having trouble sleeping at night but the time he slept in your quarters and the time you and him slept together in the shack was the easiest he managed to fall asleep. Those memories gave him a little mood boost as he continued with his work. Your body would sometimes toss and turn or cling to him but he didn’t mind it. He enjoyed the little reminder that you were there with him.

Almost Home

“Ready for pickup, sending coordinates for drop point.”

Miles speaks into Lyles's earpiece, informing those on the other line that they are okay and ready to circle home. It took no longer than a handful of minutes to get the generals okay and a dropship to be on its way. The team including yourself woke up early and started moving. It would take the ship a few hours to get here so it would give the squad enough time to move to the rally point, replenish natural resources, and take a well-needed break. Miles rallied up his men and informed them to start heading west and stop at the river bed. One by one the squad members fell in line and walked in said direction. He gathered up other stranglers, pointing in the direction of everyone else until he caught up to you.

There you were crouching over, looking at something in the distance. The playful side of him wanted to tip you over but another part of him was curious. What are you so interested in? He thought. So he stooped down low enough behind you, thanks to his larger and slimmer build he was able to move quickly and silently. As far as you know, you were alone in this moment. His eyes narrowed to what you were looking at and there it was.. It was a small herd of hexapods. A mother and a few babies, each one playing and running around each other until she’d turn around and make an odd noise, as though she was yelling at them to stop. Your eyes glint at the sight. How are there so many beauties on this planet? It was so vast and you’ve barely scratched the surface of this place's complexities. You craved to be further immersed into this planet but you can’t seem to get a full break to enjoy it without someone stopping you. Little did you know someone was here to stop your observation. Large hands gripped your sides and pulled you several feet off the ground.

“Who the fuc-”

“Watch your mouth, just moving you buttercup”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you heard his voice. In one big swoop, he tossed you over his shoulder, grabbed your bag, and started following after his team. Why does he always do this? You thought as you lay limp on his shoulder, giving the hexapods one last glance as you were pulled away through Pandora's vegetation. You see the creatures play happily with each other as they too move deeper into the forest. Your eyes had a look of longing to them, you wanted to stay but you knew you couldn't stay. You had a life to return to at home base. A life you weren’t looking forward to. You shifted your body and turned towards him, seeing where he was taking you. There in the distance were the other members of the squad still going forward. Without much thought your fingers laced around his braid and gave it a gentle tug. His body jolted and the hand holding you in place squeezed you tighter. His breath hissed as he side glanced at you and waited for you to do or say something, filled with a bit of anticipation.

“I want to get down, so put me down Miles.”

He too scoffed a bit when you told him that, was it that he wanted something else? Maybe but he wouldn’t dwell on it. So he did as you asked and put you down. He handed you your things and continued to guide you to the group, his hand hovering behind your back to make sure you would keep up with the group. Continuously he glanced down at you but you didn’t return the looks as you were deep in thought. About what? He didn’t have a clue but he assumed it was about what you were previously doing but he wouldn’t pry. Instead, he gently nudged you with his tail before asking you a question.

“Y/n, How’d this mission go in your opinion? It was successful but this is your first mission off base if I’m correct. So, what do you think?”

He asked with curiosity dripping from his voice. His first mission was thrilling, he enjoyed the rush of being in the action. Every mission felt the same except for this one because of you. You gave him the rush but in a different way and not only that but you made him feel something new. Compassion. Never has he felt this genuine compassion for you and those around him. The last thing he expected was for that to happen yet here he was, feeling such a feeling for you. Patiently he waited for you to answer his question. You were shaken out of your focus but got back in it after his question. You thought of everything that has happened over the past few days. You almost got killed 3 times, you sustained a pretty bad injury, and you even were told something pretty discouraging by miles. On the other hand, Miles found you when you were hurt and tended to your wounds, you and him bonding in more ways than one and he listened to you. There were positives and negatives about the mission but after giving it a bit of thought you gave him your answer.

“It was..scary. Who knew my first day I would almost get killed? hah...This place is so beautiful but danger lurks in every corner. I don’t regret coming, I'm glad I had this experience, even if there were some negatives. I’ve learned so much and experienced many fulfilling things here.”

You spoke with a small smile on your face as you replayed all the good and bad memories, resonating with the parts that affected you the most. Your fingers lightly trace your shoulder the more you think about everything that took place here. Finally, you looked back at Miles, a look of sincerity that contrasted with his look of mild confusion.

“Even if it wasn’t everything I thought it would be it was still okay. At first, I didn’t want to go with you, you weren’t as pleasant as you are now but I am glad I came with you Miles.”

“Oh...I can agree with you there. Glad you came y/n.”

His look of confusion was soon replaced with a soft look. One you’ve seen only a few times but one you enjoyed. He was confused by your response and how you thought it was scary. His first time wasn’t scary at all, even if in his old self's memories he received that nasty scar he never remembered feeling fearful. Everyone does have different feelings from their first day but he’s never heard someone feel scared until you. Most people he worked with were never that honest with him. Not too long after the small exchange of words you both reach up to the group and reach the designated stopping point. The squad broke up into small groups, some keeping watch and others continuing small talk while they replenished resources like water. You and Miles sat on the ground near a fallen tree a bit farther from the group, also keeping watch of all the others before the arrival of the dropship.

Arrival of the dropships

Finally, after 2 hours of sitting and scoping the area for any dangers, the dropship's roaring engine grew louder and louder. You and the others quickly gathered your packs and other equipment before moving out into the dense forest to make room for the dropship. The high wind speeds and the rumbling of the engines were something you didn’t miss, hearing the sounds reminded you once more of the life you were returning to. Life behind a computer screen. You rushed behind the nearest tree gripping its bark tightly as the dropship landed a couple of meters before you. Once the roar of the engines was silenced and the gate to the transportation bay was opened the squad began to fall in. One by one they followed each other into the ship. You followed after them but before entering the transportation bay you looked back at the forest.

Part of you wanted to stay here, live, and learn about this place first hand but another part of you knew that couldn’t happen. You deeply wanted to explore the world of Pandora but something pulled you back, literally. Lyle grabbed your arm and dragged you onto the ship, you hadn't noticed but the ships were about to take off and you alongside a few stragglers weren’t buckled up. Before your brain could process what was happening you were tossed into the nearest seat and Lyle buckled you up. Once secured he left you there and went back to his seat. You were still in a daze to see who was around or where you were either. Your breath shook and your eyes gazed down at your feet while trying to make sense of yourself. You weren’t frightened or mad, you were taken from a place where you truly felt at home. You were sad but still reminiscing on the wonderful memories you made while you were here. It felt shorter even if you were there for 3 and a half days. Pandora days are already pretty long but at home base, they were long, tiresome, and boring. Yet here, the days didn’t feel long enough. There on Pandora, you were happy and got the experience of a lifetime yet it didn’t last long enough for you.

“You alright?”

A familiar voice rang in your ears slowly snapping you back into reality. You felt a warm grasp lace around your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before repeating the question.

“Are you alright y/n?”

He asked now with more urgency. You looked up to who it was, and to your surprise it was Miles. You previously thought Lyle placed you near one of your other squad members, instead, he sat you near Miles but you were too out of it to notice. You glance down at his hand on your thigh and then back at him. His look was serious but concerned, his ears narrowed as he impatiently waited for your response. As all of the surroundings and noises came back into your focus you nodded yes. Frantically you scooped your surroundings to remember where you were, what noises you were hearing, and what was happening. “You’re on the dropship heading home y/n” you continuously repeat as you take big deep breaths to calm your tensed nerves. Miles's hand stayed firmly on your thigh until you were fully back to reality and somewhat relaxed. He could feel the muscles in your leg tighten and contract once he grasped it, eventually thanks to your deep breathing the muscles in your body relax. Your jaw loosens, your shoulders drop, your racing heart now steady once you’ve come to your senses. Seeing how calm you looked he pulled his hand back and let it rest in his lap. He didn’t know what else to do or say so he kept to himself. You did the same, trying to drown out the rumbling and roar of the engines until you made it back “home”. From where you sat you were blessed with a view of outside, the trees and irkans so clear to see and admire. Your soul was at peace getting reminded of all the wonderful things you saw on the mission. But the longer the ride went on the less and less you saw Pandora's natural beauty was slowly replaced by human-built structures and large clearings that were once full of life.

“We're here, boys! Unpack and make your way inside, we got a lot to debrief!” A familiar voice broke through the noise of the engines. Miles got up from his seat and ordered his men off the ship. The anxiety you felt when you left came back, you didn’t want to be here. After seeing all that Pandora had to offer you didn’t feel at home here. Nonetheless, you followed his orders unpacked your gear from the ship, and headed out. One by one you and your teammates fell out of the ship and marched back inside. Your return resulted in claps and cheers of praise. Other humans and Na’vi recom members cheered everyone on for another successful mission. Nervously you waved and smiled back to your coworkers. You weren’t used to praising especially on this level, it was a nice feeling but one that wouldn’t last long. As you made it through the doors of Homebase more familiar noises rang your eardrums. Drills, yelling, bangs, the hums of large machinery, a sound you didn’t miss. Miles informed everyone, including yourself, to head to their quarters to put away their things and immediately head to the conference room. So that's what you did, you rushed back to your room, dodging and squeezing through your other teammates until you made it outside of your room. Once inside you took off all your equipment and let out a big breath. Your shoulders and knees ached from the continuous walking and running you’ve been doing for the past few days. You smelled like must, sweat, and old blood. It was an unpleasant smell, and you wanted to relax in the shower but have a conference first. You threw your things down near your bed and quickly freshened up, all you had time to do was put on some deodorant and a little fragrance you had on your dresser before leaving your room. Again you were greeted by coworkers, congratulating you for your work on the mission. Some said they were surprised you didn’t die on the mission and others just gave you a nod of approval. As you approached the conference room someone stopped you in your tracks. Your “buddy” Selfridge.

“Hey y/n, missed ya! We need you to do some paperwork regarding your mission.”

“I’m supposed to meet up with Miles and t-”

Before you could finish your sentence he threw files into your arms and patted your back with a “Thanks”. He left before you had the chance to repeat yourself. Your body whipped around to look for him but he was too far gone. A low grunt escaped your mouth as you looked down at the large stack of files in your hands. You looked back and forth between the conference room and your room. After a few moments of contemplating you sighed and went to your office to get to work on files. You dragged your feet behind you and your shoulders slumped the more you fixated on the stack of files you needed to finish. Once you were at your office you threw the files down and slammed your fist against the desk. Again another groan left your mouth, louder and with a growl to it. This wasn’t how you wanted to spend your day back here but knowing Selfridge if it wasn’t done soon he’d only get more annoyed by you. You shook your head and ran your fingers through your hair as you came up with the plan for the rest of the day. Shower, do paperwork, catch up with miles if you can, clean your room, and sleep.

So that is what you did…well tried too. The files lay messily on your cluttered desk as you left the room and gathered clothes from your quarters. You take the well-needed shower in your private shower room, one of the few benefits of being an “Important” worker here is getting private showers. You scrubbed away the grime and gunk off your body, untangled your hair, and cleaned the dirt from underneath your nails as the warm water trickled on your body. Giving you the feeling of relief the longer you stood underneath the showerhead. Of all the things to miss about this place, you missed this the most, until a stinging sensation covered your hands and wrist. You shoot your head down to your hands to see what caused this discomfort, it was the rope burns you had from the mission…Carefully you unraveled the bandages that bound your hands to reveal the semi-healed skin beneath them. The water cover dripped onto your hands bringing back that stinging feeling but it didn’t bother you anymore. Your eyes were fixated on the new scars you gained, the ones you gained from escaping a near-death experience. Not only that but you notice the rough skin of your palms. This wasn’t from the mission, the skin was completely healed but still rough. This was before the mission when you ran away from Miles, a memory you couldn’t forget but didn’t realize it left such a scar behind. More memories of the mission and training you did with Miles came back like a wave. There in solitude, you stood as you replayed countless memories in your head, letting the warm water fall down your body and hug you like a blanket of warmth. A warmth that would be short-lived as it was soon replaced with cold. You jumped back almost slipping as you moved from the water. Hot waters out. You thought to yourself as you quickly finished your shower and got dressed in more comfortable clothing.

“Alright…Time to get back to work.”

You mumbled to yourself for motivation, making your way back to your office to get started on those files. For the next hours, you stayed in your room sorting the files, filling them out, and rewatching clips from the mission to mark down. Your fingers tighten around your pen, your eye bags deepen, and your focus only on the work in front of you. It was so intense that you didn’t even realize someone had walked into your office. That was until a cup of coffee was placed in front of you, it was freshly brewed and smelt amazing. Snapping you out of your deep focus for a moment. Just from instinct, you thought it was Selfridge encouraging you to finish so you respond to the gesture.

“I’ll have them done by tomorrow Selfridge, I’m al-”

“Oh, so he’s the one who made you miss the briefing. I’ll have a word with him later.”

“Huh? Miles?”

Your head shot up and there he was, leaning over your desk examining your files and the mess of a desk you worked on. That sly grin was back on his face as you noticed him, he circled to your side of the desk and rubbed his large hands across your shoulders. A feeling of relief washed over you as he did but still, you worked. Before you could even write anything down he grabbed your wrist gently and made you put down the papers and pens.

“Come on, take a little break. We have a bit to talk about buttercup.”

“...Okay fine, what is it that you want to talk about Miles?”

You asked as you grabbed the cup of coffee he brought for you and took a generous sip of it. It was delightful. You took another sip and smiled down at the cup. Miles too smiled at you, making his way back in front of the desk and sitting in one of the extra chairs you had in the room. He crossed his arms and leaned forward against your desk and watched you take another sip of the coffee.

“Any good? Thought you could use it.”

“Mhm, not as sweet as I’d like but good so I won’t complain this time heh…What you needed again?”

“Right, We can get into the mission debriefing later. More importantly, me and my team think you did well on your first mission. Even if you almost died, what like 3 times? Hehe”

“ Your point?-”

“ We want you to come on the next one, they think you're a great addition to the team.”

“Oh..well that’s..sweet. But if it’s going to the na’vi outpost I don’t want to go…I don’t want their blood on my hands. I’d love to go but under those circumstances, I wouldn’t be a good asset.”

He paused. Taking your answer into consideration, thinking of his next words carefully to either convince you to join or dismiss it entirely. He nipped the skin of his lip before continuing the conversation.

“I respect that, but there will be more opportunities for you, because..Your Na’vi avatar is nearly ready to be taken for its first official test run. Once you get used to it, we want you on a mission to test it out.”

Now you paused, eyes widened and your hands covered your mouth. Watering eyes look back at him as you process what he just told you. Not only were you given aallowedback to Pandora but you’d be in your Na’vi avatar too. You were overjoyed hearing it but Miles thought he said something wrong. Without thinking you jumped from your chair and ran to him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He froze thinking you were going to hit or yell at him but once he realized it was a hug he hugged you back tenderly. You uttered the words “Thank You” into his ears, still holding him tightly. He smiled and pulled you up and onto his lap, still holding you. He smiled happily seeing your reaction to the news. You pulled back from the hug to look up at him and he looked back at you. A few moments passed before one of you decided to move, it was you this time. You reached up and cupped his cheek, your hand was so small compared to his face but he could feel the tenderness from your touch. He pressed his cheek into your hand and watched you intently. His big yellow eyes had small glints in them as he continued to watch you. He was curious to see what you’d do next so he stayed silent and waited. Then you pulled yourself up closer to him and gave him a kiss, a sweet and tender kiss unlike the ones before. This one was sweeter, a true gift of thanks to him. He kissed you back slowly letting his hands hug your figure. Soft moans escaped your lips as you two continued the kiss before pulling back to catch y’all’s breath. He smiled wider and his tail whipped quickly with excitement once the kiss ended. His ears perked up and his cheeks grew a deeper shade of blue seeing your expression after the kiss. Your cheeks were a bright red color and an identical smile on your face.

“Thanks Miles…For everything.”

“No problem y/n, Thank you as well.”

For the rest of the night, you and he stay in the office, you working on the files for today's mission and him keeping you company with old mission stories and memorable moments of the past few days. As you both entertained each other your mind began to wander back to you and Miles's first encounter. He didn’t like you and you sure as hell didn’t like him. It was a mutual dislike but slowly over the next few days of training you and him started to tolerate each other. But you truly saw his kindness and mindfulness for you on the last day of training, When shots were fired at the innocent direhorse. Ever since then, he has been kind and more mindful of you and your feelings. Sure he slips back into his old ways of being arrogant but the more time you spent together the less he did it. He was still the strong and overbearing leader but still made sure to treat you with the respect you deserved. It was very unexpected for the both of you to find comfort in each other. Thankfully the mission with Miles wouldn’t end your relationship with him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to wait until you got your Na’vi body to bond with him again.

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

Thank you guys for the love I’ve been receiving on this fanfic but I’m ending it here! I’ve been writing this since March 3rd and this fanfic will conclude today. December 16th. Seems right to me, I appreciate everyone reading this fic deeply. You guys motivated me to finish and I’m so happy with how far I came with writing this. I will write more avatar fics, one being Miles's reaction to your Na’vi form! Once again thank you for the love on this fic and I hope you guys will stick around for more fics to come!

#miles quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #quaritch miles #atwow x reader #avatar 2022 #miles quaritch fanfiction

22 notes · View notes

usafphantom2 · 1 year ago

Text

The SR-71 Was Close to Perfect

A member of the Blackbirds’ ground crew looks back on the airplane’s flight-test beginnings to the end of the Blackbirds

This first photograph was taken of the SR-71 #972 when it was in a hangar near Dullas airport, waiting for the new Smithsonian Air and Space Museum to be open. Photo Eric long. The other two photographs were taken at Palmdale California December 21, 1989.

After a 480-mile flight from Beale Air Force Base in California, the midnight-black airplane swooped down to about 300 feet above Burbank Tower, less than 30 seconds after its scheduled arrival time of 12 noon. It made an easy half-roll, then completed two more passes. The parking garage roof where I stood reverberated with cheers, but as the Blackbird came in for its final pass, a hundred feet off the runway, and then pulled up just beyond the tower, the crowd fell silent. was December 1989, and this flyby, a gift to Lockheed employees from Ben Rich, head of Advanced Development Projects (the Skunk Works), marked the beginning of the end of the SR-71. After much debate in Congress, the Blackbirds were about to be retired. The YF-12A, the earlier, single-seat version of the SR-71, first flew in August 1963 and the Blackbird in December 1964. It was still unsurpassed when it was retired in 1990, 24 years after it officially entered service.

As I watched the SR-71 that December day, I thought back to the airplane’s flight-test beginnings in the early 1960s. I thought of Ben Rich, Ray Passon, Keith Beswick, and so many others whose lives were forever touched by this aircraft. I too was part of the Blackbird team, setting up housing, transportation, and communications—special measures due to the secrecy necessary. And above all of us was designer Kelly Johnson, who had a gift for sharing his ability to innovate and his drive to succeed. The unity of commitment we felt under leadership from Larry Bohanan in engineering and Dorsey Kammerer in production reached new intensity whenever Kelly arrived in the field. Sometimes he would good-naturedly arm-wrestle with people working there. His team members were hand-picked and fiercely loyal to him. He once offered $50 to anybody who could find an easy job to do. He got no takers. When it came to their specialties, the people working on the Blackbird were the best in the company, perhaps in the country or even the world. The last word in reconnaissance airplanes, the SR-71 was capable of flying faster than Mach 3 and above 85,000 feet. In fact, the SR-71 flew so fast that even in the cold of those rarefied heights, the friction of the air heated its titanium skin to 550 degrees Fahrenheit.

On the day the Blackbird took to the air for the first time, many of the ground crews showed up. I had worked all night, but sleep in those days seemed like nothing but a waste of time so I stayed to watch. The weather was perfect for a December day: clear and cold, with snow on the surrounding mountains. Somewhere around 8 a.m. the desert silence was shattered by the sound of the twin Buick V-8 engines used for the starters. Later, when the Blackbirds operated at their base at Beale, they had permanent start facilities in their hangars, but in the early days two highly modified 425-cubic-inch Buick Wildcats, an estimated 500 horsepower each, were used to turn a massive starter shaft that was inverted into the first one, then the other of the SR-71’s J-58 engines. One sound I shall never forgot is that of those unmuffled Buicks holding steady at better than 6,000 rpm in excess of 15 seconds at a time, all hours of the day and night. Starting the engines was no easy job.

Kelly Johnson stood by in his familiar dark blue suit and tie, smiling as he had a final word for the pilots.

Veteran crew chief standing next to me could only murmur, “Her enemies will never be natural.”( that was true. It was jealous people that were her enemy.)

Written by Jim Norris

@Habubrats71 via X

25 notes · View notes

non-binarypal7 · 11 months ago

Text

15 people, 15 questions (on the 15th! 😄)

Thank you very much for tagging me in this game @xagan @theflagscene @visualtaehyun @telomeke ❣️ I loved learning about y’all 🥰

1) Are you named after anyone?

My middle name was given to me in honor of my great-grandmother (one of her children was also named after her and kept that name her whole life, so I don’t feel bad about the fact that I’m changing both my first and middle names legally 😁) (even if no one else had been named after her there still wouldn’t be any reason for me to feel bad about changing my name to better suit me) 😁😁😁

2) Last time you cried?

A couple days ago in the lead up to a traumatic experience that I won’t go into but on the whole I don’t mind crying!

3) Do you have kids?

No, and I don’t plan on passing on my genes, but I can see myself potentially raising a kid in the distant future. There’s a very good chance that I’ll never be a parent, and I’m extremely fine with that. I think the ideal parenthood situation involves people who are adamantly certain in their desire to be parents (and who are prepared to respect the autonomy and complete personhood of their children) I have lots of other thoughts on parenthood, but I’m veering away from the question 😄

4) What sports do you play/have you played?

My primary sports are tennis and basketball and I really miss playing them. I played them frequently growing up and now it’s been quite a while since I played either, though the last time I played basketball was almost a year ago and it was a satisfyingly homoerotic experience and I played well under pressure, so at least I have that to sustain me until the next time I can play

5) Do you use sarcasm?

I do, but pretty infrequently, and generally only with people who I’m confident will understand and not be confused or hurt by it

6) What’s the first thing you notice about people?

If it’s an in-person meeting, probably their height, mannerisms, accent, facial expressions if I can see their face; if it’s a text-based meeting, probably their writing/spelling/grammar/punctuation style, use of emojis and/or emoticons, etc. + degree of formality for both in-person and online meetings

7) What’s your eye color?

My eyes are a bit of a kaleidoscope of colors, but the most dominant color is green

8) Scary movies or happy ending?

I don’t watch many scary movies, but I can enjoy a scary movie with a (relative to the plot) happy ending, like The Blue Hour directed by P’Nuchy Anucha Boonyawatana 😄 The Blue Hour isn’t extremely scary, but I’ll take any opportunity to encourage people to watch that film 😁

9) Any talents?

I love to sing ☺️

10) Where were you born?

U.S.

11) What are your hobbies?

Writing (predominately fan fiction and poetry, I’d like to journal and write poetry more often), engaging with Thai media, and learning languages (Spanish, Thai, and Japanese are my primary target languages) are currently my main hobbies

12) Do you have any pets?

Yes 🥰 Luna is a wonderful doggy whom I love very much

13) How tall are you?

163.83 cm (5 feet 4 and a half inches)

14) Favorite subject in school?

Ecology

15) Dream job?

I feel capable of being fulfilled in numerous fields - ideally I’d like to help contribute towards environmental activism and sustainable practices, as well as regulations to hold companies accountable for their environmental and socioeconomic impacts

Tagging @dropthedemiurge @thepancakelady @7nessasaryevils @ablazenqueen @fairlylokai @ullvide @topcatnikki @fandork @springkitten @arisprite @wereflamingo @gaym3bo1 @ragingbyesexual @rares-posts @kornswasianguyswag

13 notes · View notes

oliviabutsmart · 1 year ago

Text

Physics "Friday" #9 [OPINION]: Is Fahrenheit the better temperature scale?

So as the title suggests, this post is a lot less facts and logic, and a lot more opinionated. It is still physics-y I just believe it's an interesting way to delve into a subject by turning it into an opinionated peice.

Preamble: A summary of Metric vs. Imperial arguments

Education level: Primary (Y3/4)

Topic: Measuring Systems (Metrology)

Now before you throw your hands up at the title and your silly little internet brain is like "this silly impericuck is fahrenpilled!" ... I'm an astronomy student living in Australia - I use SI units (and other unit systems) on the daily.

Though ... it is pretty notorious in astronomy to use like 17 different unit systems. Here's a list of examples:

My beloved SI units

CGS Units

Whatever the fuck a Jansky is

Don't even start with natural units I can't live without big G

"Ampere in CGS units is g1/2 cm3/2 s−2"

Solar Luminosity/Mass of Sun

Angstroms (like please can we just use nanometers?)

How many Jupiters or Earths fit into this cloud of gas?

The vomit of parallax units i.e. AU, pc, Mpc, arcseconds, radians

Steradians (Solid angles can be finicky)

Logarithms, logarithms everywhere!

Hubble's constant being in km/s/Mpc but then having to turn that into Hz or per year - like can someone please acknowledged how cursed this is?

When you do Kepler's 3rd law on Mercury and realise it doesn't work (because you forgot Einstein existed) ... so no units end up working

ADUs and/or whatever you get when you deal with telescope outputs

And as an Australian, I use SI units very regularly. Only measurements of human height and cooking weights are really imperial. And I can express all of them in metric units.

Now generally, the Metric (or SI) units are better than the imperial (or USC) units. The main points in favour of SI are:

(Almost) Everybody uses it

It's basically universal in science (see exceptions above)

It fits well with our base 10 counting system, easy scaling (e.g. 1 kg = 1 000 g = 1 000 000 mg)

It's directly pinned to many natural constants and unchanging laws

Different units interact with eachother much better

Now, generally, the main arguments for imperial units involve a bunch of patriots™ screaming about how "THIS IS THE CoUNTRY OF FREEDOM AND GOD!! AND I AIN'T USING NO CHINESE UNITS!!!1!".

That, or how metrification is hard. Which, well, metrification can occur over the course of decades, literally teaching your kids metric helps the country adjust to a metric system.

The best arguments I've found for imperial units is as follows:

Numbers like 6, 12, 60 etc. - i.e. units based on highly composite numbers - are very easily divisible by 2, 3, and 4

Units like feet, inches, pounds, stone, etc. are of a much more human-friendly scale. Because these units are based on bodily proportions or common objects

Generally, the arguments for metric vastly outweigh the arguments for imperial. And the main reason why is that the two arguments for imperial conflict with eachother. You cannot easily subdivide your units neatly and have human units.

For example, the Roman mile is a unit that measures the usual amount of distance a footsoldier can cover before needing a short stop. An acre is the amount of land that a manual-labour farmer can cover in a day's work. An inch is about the size of your thumb.

The problem is that all three of these units, based on length, are completely off kilter. 1 acre = 43,650 square feet, 1 Roman mile = 58260 in, etc.

The only cases where I would say the human-ness and divisibility of units actually becomes a stronger argument than decimalised units are, time and temperature.

Time is obvious. 1 hour = 60 minutes = 3600 seconds. It's nice, clean and simple. And an hour or half-hour is a very human unit, the same as a second or a minute. We often operate on hour and minute schedules, and that's not just because of capitalism. 30 minutes just appears to be the amount of time we like to work before taking a short rest.

Temperature is a bit more nebulous however ...

Where (I think) Celsius fails

Of course, celsius is an understandable scale. 0 C = Water Freezes, 100 C = water boils. Pinning your scale on water makes life easy for you as you know what the bounds are.

The problem is that there are temperatures that exist outside of the 0-100 scale. And this kinda breaks the neat decimalisation of a scale.

A cold winter's day in Tasmania could drop into the negatives. And just because your in the negatives doesn't mean ocean water or rain will freeze. Temperatures below 0 C doesn't guarantee snowfall.

Similarly, say you are in a desert during the day. The temperature can get as high as 50 C - it's reasonable to say that you're unlikely to see temperatures above 50 C outside of your oven or kettle.

Do you normally see temperatures between 70 - 90 C? Unless if you're pasteurising milk, distilling alcohol, or doing chemistry, you are not going to encounter these temperatures. And do you really need your temperature numbers to be below 100 to do chemistry?

This is the downside of Celsius. Because temperature is a scale, and operates differently to other units, it doesn't really matter where you set the zero point. A boiling point of ethanol at "78" is no better than one at "173".

Celsius also doesn't account for temperatures that are very well below the freezing point of water, temperatures which are very common to experience.

So is Fahrenheit Better?

Fahrenheit solves this problem, partially. It's a more human friendly scale. 0 F is a very very cold day whereas 100 F is a very very hot day. Things beyond both numbers are relegated to the scientists, chefs, and extremophiles of the world.

If we were to completely remove all requirements of not pissing off a bunch of people, we could even create our own temperature scale to make things even better: 0 X = -50 C and 100 X = 50 C.

Even better because now the 0 and 100 of this scale becomes the absolute limit of what we could normally experience on earth, the hottest desert and the coldest tundra. It even comes with the benefit that 50 X = the freezing point of water and 150 X = the boiling point of water - it preserves our common "anchors" of the phases of water.

The problem is that there's a second hidden benefit of Fahrenheit: it's specificity. What do I mean by that?

Well, for every 1 C increase in temperature, the Fahrenheit scale increases by 1.8 F. This means that a temperature of 20 C could mean 68 F or 69 F.

For a lot of normal/casual processes, the Celsius scale may require us get past the decimal point, to express minor changes in temperature, whereas Fahrenheit would not.

For chemistry and physics, our significant figure requirements immediately become extra precise. 58.8 F is a more accurate measurement than 14.9 C, without requiring any more decimal places.

You may say "well why not we use a deci-Celsius scale where 1000 dC = boiling point of water". The issue is that too much precision may be putting it over the top. We don't measure the size of cities in centimetres.

But then what about Kelvin

Of course, the main SI unit for temperature, and the unit physicists and chemists use is the Kelvin. The reason for this is of course:

It is tied to absolute zero by setting it to 0 K

Because of this, we can apply SI order of magnitude quantifiers like milli-Kelvin, kilo-Kelvin, Giga-Kelvin without upsetting the position of our anchor points

It covers and measures cleanly low-K processes

Very hot processes end up having Celsius be approximately equal to Kelvin

It would be difficult to use Fahrenheit because 0 F ~ the freezing point of saltwater.

But let me introduce you to the Rankine Scale. What Kelvin is to Celsius is what Rankine is to Fahrenheit.

Rankine takes all of the benefits of Fahrenheit with it (aside from the human-ness of the scale - but that's not the purpose of the Rankine and Fahrenheit scales), but it also takes the benefits that Kelvin gets.

We can too, have milli-Rankine and Giga-Rankine. And the best part is that it is twice as precise as Fahrenheit.

Even better is that the Rankine Scale is very easily convertible to the Kelvin Scale. 1 K = 1.8 R; 1 K⁻¹ = 0.556 R⁻¹. This means I can very easily re-formulate some fundamental constants:

Boltzmann constant = 1.381 × 10⁻²³ J K⁻¹ = 7.672 × 10⁻²⁴ J R⁻¹

Stefan-Boltzmann c. = 5.67 × 10⁻⁸ W m⁻² K⁻⁴ = 5.40 × 10⁻⁹ W m⁻² R⁻⁴

Ideal gas constant = 8.315 J mol⁻¹ K⁻¹ = 4.619 J mol⁻¹ R⁻¹

Wein's constant = 2.898 × 10⁻³ m K = 5.216 × 10⁻³ m R

Let's hope I converted it correctly, idk my Saturday brain no thinky.

Conclusion: So is it actually better?

Short Answer: In my opinion, yes. But I'm not switching to it.

Of course, when talking about subjective opinions, people can point out the flaws in each others' opinions. I've made it clear that the imperial vs. metric debate very solidly falls to the metric side with only a few exceptions.

Temperature is one of those scales that are more up-to-debate over the usefulness of certain units of choice. Especially because the alternative unit system is still commonly used.

I could've made the same arguments about the meter, and said that we should use a decimalised inch or foot with kilofeet or millifeet. Or invent a completely new unit system that is technically "superior". But that's obviously much more ambitious.

Of course, the likelihood of the global Fahrenheit revolution is almost non-existent, and this is more of a series of "well, technically speaking" arguments that are more for the point of exploring an idea than implementing one.

Regardless I'd like to hear YOUR arguments over why I'm a stupid poo poo head or I'm actually the mother of the next great napoleonic French empire.

I tried to add a bit of colour in this post, specifically with the quotes. I just didn't want it to be a bland wall of text.

Again, feedback that may be unrelated to the specific "you're right/you're wrong" debate like my writing style etc. is also appreciated.

I don't really know what I will do next week. Because technically I was supposed to do philosophy and ethics in science ... but I might not have that time given my university study.

Currently I'm doing three courses in QFT, GR, and Cosmology. And they are all very big and hefty. Thankfully, I think there's a bit of a break period coming as we're now moving to canonical quantisation (which I've found easier than Feynman diagrams), and the measurement of gravitational waves.

Now don't worry that last paragraph is not a flex, it's more an indication that I'm learning a lot of this stuff as I make these posts. More an excuse as to why I might in the future delay posts and such. Like I mentioned the Higgs mechanism in the last post at the same time I was actually learning about the Higgs mechanism.

Anyways, I'm going to go and scarf down some chocolate now.

#physics friday #stem #physics #stemblr #academics #science #fahrenheit #celsius #temperature #opinion

13 notes · View notes

thechillsquid · 2 years ago

Text

Axolotl

So when looking at it initially, one would expect the real life axolotl (left) and the minecraft axolotl (right) to be biologically and ecologically similar, however, this couldn’t be further from the truth, for you see, they live extremely differing lifestyles and thus have varying adaptions and ecological niches.

Let’s start off with the most notable differences on initial viewing. Firstly, the axolotl wild morph is actually a commonly brownish-ran colored animal with an effective camouflage for blending into its environment. The thought of pink or white axolotls one may think of being domesticated variations that were able to be established through captive breeding. The mc axolotl however shares these abnormal, more domesticated color morphs as well as a few color morphs more similar to that of the real life axolotl wild morph. However, this is likely due to one being a preyed upon species while the other is more so an active predator with few competing organisms. We will however build upon the idea of the minecraft axolotl’s niche and lifestyle later.

Let’s go back to the appearance of the two axolotls. For while sharing a generally similar aquatic based body plan, the minecraft axolotl showcases a much shorter tail with a bulkier body than its real life counterpart which has a much more elongated tail and milder form.

Furthermore, while the real life axolotl has very scrawny limbs that are ineffective for even attempting out of water locomotion (they can not survive long out of water anyways due the moist slime coating along their skin drying out and because they can not breath effectively out of water for long periods of time; at the most extreme they could survive up to an hour without air but within minutes they start getting highly uncomfortable and distressed), the minecraft axolotl is a fucking beast.

Not only can the minecraft axolotl survive up to a maximum of 6 hours out of water (20 min irl = 24 hr mc; 10 min irl = 12 hr mc; 5 min irl = 6 hr mc) but it is notable in the fact it will purposefully leave the water sometimes to find new water sources. It can actively move about on land at about 0.682 mph to .723 mph, depending on whether or not you round the length of a block to about 3ft precisely or to the claimed 3 ft, 3 inches. I will however be going with blocks being more so about 3ft in length to make the math easier.

So the minecraft axolotl can move across the land at about 0.682 mph, about the same speed as a koala climbing a tree which has been noted at about 0.7 mph.

This, while notable compared to its real life counterpart, is nothing compared to truly terrestrial salamanders which while they may move slowly about land, can run at quick speeds for escape if needed. The minecraft counterpart can not do this and infact won’t run even if endangered, lending to the fact that it can’t run. So while it is muscular enough to support its own body weight and move notably, it can not run and thus moves onto land primarily when necessary.

The real life axolotl can not do this and often finds threats such as water pollution to be quite endangering to their species’ survival. However, the mc axolotl is also much more adaptable than its counterpart.

Though, this could be because of the size difference between the two. For while it wouldn’t be all that notable at first, one is significantly larger than the other. The irl axolotl can fit in the palm of a human hand and has been known to grow to lengths of about 12 inches from head to tail. The mc axolotl on the other hand? Can reach about 3 feet in length from head to tail. This is about equivalent to that of the North American hellbender, the largest salamander species in the United States which are capable of growing up to about 30 inches long (2 1/2 feet).

(While the mc axolotl would be a bit larger, imagine this for the approx of the mc axolotl length)

Now this has probably been the result of the mc axolotl lacking major predators, but it also may be a factor of the mc environment having an increased amount of available oxygen, allowing for organisms to grow bigger (this being a plausible reason behind large arthropods such as the notorious mc silverfish and the abnormally large mc bee).

The mc axolotl not only can maintain greater size since it can manage increased metabolic rates due to this available oxygen, but it has been able to take a more active predator ecological niche. The mc axolotl is, afterall, known not only for its regenerative capabilities (able to play dead when injured to allow its body a brief moment to focus attention to regeneration of injured parts of the body) but its aggressive hunting nature.

They will actively hunt and seek animals such as fish, squid, etc., whereas the irl axolotl is more so of an ambush predator. It uses its sense of smell to find food to make up for its poor eyesight, and then it will simply suck food into its mouth. Irl axolotl often eating things such as invertebrates, small fish, etc.

The mc axolotl as well, possibly as a benefit of its specialized metabolic rate management, can deal with temperatures that would kill its irl counterpart. You see irl axolotls, and many other of its kin, need lower water temperatures to help them regulate their metabolic rate. If temperatures rise above their normal range, the axolotl metabolic rate will increase too quickly for the animal’s body to maintain causing death.

The mc axolotl doesn’t seem as affected, and this possible is why it is such an active and vigorous hunter. For while it is more adaptable and thus has a greater survivability, it needs to keep up with its much greater metabolic rate by eating much more. This would be impossible for a more slow and steady hunting approach so the mc axolotl developed to be a better hunter.

While its tail is smaller, the paddle like fin is a lot broader and the tail itself is much stronger than the irl axolotl. Limbs gained increased rigor either due to needing to possibly move to new water sources to find prey when prey populations dipped, or possibly to help it maneuver tighter areas more effectively. It certainly is less frail than its irl cousin.

This also helps with the look into how the mc axolotl’s relative the phantom managed to gain its strength and prowess. For while the irl axolotl can not live long out of water and the mc axolotl can, there may be one definite distinction between the two that causes this.

Their skin. You see an irl axolotl’s skin is covered in a slime coating that helps not only keep an axolotl’s skin protected from possible infections, etc., it also helps to keep the axolotl moist out of water. However, when this protective coating dries out, that’s when issues arise.

The mc axolotl, while staying out of water for long periods of time can cause the animal’s death, does not seem to have as great of an issue with skin protection. At least while sensitive, it seems the skin is defintely able to keep moisture in while allowing for respiration.

This feature is most likely what allowed for the capability of the puesdo-reptiod phantom to survive and adapt despite its amphibious origins.

Not only has this allowed for insight on the differing ecological pressures and available niches one can find in the minecraft biological setting, but it allows insight towards why such odd organisms may have been able to take root/why some showcase much greater growth/odd adaptions then what one would see on Earth.

I will be delving into all this later, but for now thank you for reading, this certainly was interesting to expand upon!

#minecraft speculative biology #minecraft mobs #minecraft #speculative biology #minecraft axolotl #axolotl #salamanders #Minecraft biology

44 notes · View notes

encom1 · 1 year ago

Note

/* Here's one for older Lora, if that's okay? Thinking this is post Legacy... --@not-that-dillinger */

Encom Tower at night, Ed thought, was oddly peaceful. Perhaps it was the nostalgia of pulling an all-nighter, or the below, or the lack of people, something else, but he usually found it calming.

Usually.

The past two weeks had been nothing but a whirlwind of meetings that left Ed mentally exhausted and anxious, beginning with the disastrous release of the OS-12 and Sam Flynn taking back the company the next day, and culminating in the catastrophe that was today's board meeting and that had devolved into a shouting match between him and Flynn.

Neither of them was innocent in the incident, but Ed would probably take the blame for it. Ed could practically hear the thin ice he'd been treading cracking beneath him...

Ed had to admit, there were plenty of good things changing with Sam taking over, in the form of a whole slew of new and innovative and exciting projects that Mackey would never have let fly (Mackey was gone, and in any other case, that would have been a relief, except that Ed could just feel that it would only be a matter of time before Sam said the word, and the metaphorical ice beneath Ed's feet gave way to the frigid watery death below), and bringing back the digitization laser project.

He wasn't sure how to feel about the laser project restarting. His father had become all but obsessed with it after he returned from prison, but he had to admit, he was curious about it, and the implications of what it could do were earth-shattering.

Tonight, Ed could find no peace in the darkened tower. He couldn't go home; he was afraid of what he'd do to himself if he did, but none of the usual tricks worked. He tried losing himself to the code of one of his other projects, typing until his hands were numb his head ached from staring at his computer monitor for too long, but even that wasn't enough.

Which was why he found himself in the break room at an hour far after everyone else had gone home, fixing his fourth cup of tea in just as many hours.

He hadn't bothered turning on the lights as he made the trek from his office; the route had practically become muscle memory, and the dark helped with the headache.

He'd been staring out the window at the city lights lost in thought, the faint smell of camomile and lavender wafting from the warm mug in his hand, and feeling the closest he'd been to relaxed all day, when the lights flickered on.

Ed squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched to hold back a pained hiss. He tensed at the dim reflection of Dr. Baines in the darkened window when he opened his eyes.

There was a beat of silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, Ed feeling awkward and more than a little like a child that had been caught stealing from the cookie jar at midnight.

"You're still here?" he finally asked in surprise.

“I could ask you the same question,” her smile was thin and tired. She inched past the young man back towards the counter, jimmying the lid off her tumbler. It was a nice cool blue with the companies branding across its face. She always saw it as a bit cheesy but the consumer base ate it up.

She pours the remainder of the days coffee into her cup. Either uncaring or unnoticing that it had gone cold hours ago. Lora looks over her shoulder at him carefully. He was — devistatingly tired looking. Aged simply by being awake. Her eyes shift to her watch, then the man, then back again.

“Weird couplea’ days huh?” Her smile took on a warmer , understanding look. She had her share of far too late nights and frantic workweeks. She also knew how startling a shift in the corporate structure could be. Lora had seen the meteoric rise of his father… and his fall… then the rise and fall of Flynn himself.

They always had to go out in a blaze of glory. Media trials or underground movements— largest scandals of their times. Hell! Flynn managed to overshadow Dillinger in the same decade twice! God… that man.

#Lora 2.0 #// here goes nothing there comes something threads//.

14 notes · View notes

monarch-afterdark · 5 months ago

Text

Superspecies History: Vinestrangler

Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.

Inching closer to the end of our Skull Island coverage, we pull the curtains back on an elusive creature hidden deep in Monarch's Skull Island database, the Vinestrangler.

(Pictured above: Sketches of the Vinestrangler by Stephanie Levallois, based on eyewitness descriptions)

Monarch Database File: Vinestrangler

Monarch Designation: Vitis strangulari

Length: 9-12 feet

Species Designation: Insectoid florafauna

-----

A creature so mysterious and difficult to find that even Monarch don't have much information on it, the Vinestrangler is a four-legged insectoid creature with a large maw on its underbelly for consuming prey dragged up to it by vine-like tendrils. They are crepuscular predators, most active during the hours of dawn and dusk.

Likely a result of it blending into the canopy of trees so well, Monarch cryptobiologists have had difficulty distinguishing where the body of the Vinestrangler ends and the tree begins.

-----

While they weren't directly encountered by either the 1973 or 1995 expeditions, Vinestranglers were among the superspecies on Skull Island encountered by a Monarch team investigating Janos Biotech in 2015.

It is unknown if any wild Vinestranglers survived the storms ravaging Skull Island in 2021.

-----

And that's all she wrote on the Vinestrangler! Unfortunately, there is still much we are yet to know about this particular superspecies, and we are still awaiting the opportunity to find out if more are still out there, lurking in the treetops...

Until next time,

Monarch: After Dark

#monarch #monarch after dark #monsterverse #kong skull island #vinestrangler #superspecies #florafauna #insects

6 notes · View notes

popcornforone · 6 months ago

Text

JUNE

From the Marcus Pike Fan Fic Diary

Master List

May

I’ve written (well I say written) I actually spoke this because I wanted it to properly sound like an audio recording that had been converted into word for the diary. It was really random to do, so it’s not my best writing but I think it works for this situation.

Synopsis:- your on a girls holiday, when one night your trip takes an unexpected turn.

Word count:-1000

Warnings:- DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Swearing fingering public displays of affection, piv sex, lots of moaning, alcohol.

Yea this isn’t my usual style & I don’t think I will do it again but It was a good learning curve. Thanks for the read peoples

Audio description for diary when I return home from the girls holiday in Florida, day 5.

One of the girls called me out today. Clare realised I’m sneaking off once every couple of hours to record this for my diary. She asked

“you doing a diary?” & I was like

“yes well you know why not?”

“How long has it been going on all year?”They went.

oh but at least we’re gonna find out how good this time of our lives was I mean this is month five so far

Oooh Tara got off with Sam from that other bar & Vicky well you didn’t want to see Vicky this morning oh my God.

But yes, so far it’s going good. The tan is topping up. & I am on my second cocktail of the day as I lie by the poor reading the girl on the train.i can’t wait to see what happens next in the book, it is so full of suspense.

Oh God we are going to Michaels tavern tonight apparently it’s a 90s bar oh that means fancy dress doesn’t it? I’m not looking forward to it. I don’t do fancy dress unless it’s Halloween. Well I guess I just gotta make the girls happy & it is laylas night to pick what we do & she loves a bit of Backstreet Boys so I’m not gonna argue.

my nights coming up on night seven. I’m looking forward to that. That will also mean that there will probably be no more hangovers after night seven & then on night 12 we return home I get to get into my comfy bed & not have to share it with a girlfriend with cold feet & random snoring.

& I’ll have my Marcus to spoon me all night. oh I miss Marcus so so so much. I miss his kisses. I miss Little hugs

oh I should probably get out of the bathroom now, the girls are gonna wanna get in there next aren’t they? & I’ve got an outfit to prepare.

Wow. That was a right turnabout for the books oh my God

I am on a turning dancefloor busy reaching for the stars like S Club 7 all those years ago & suddenly I see this group & in they walk these lads, I say Lads men obviously, but they are all busy flirting their way through bar & I recognise one of them. It’s Jackson. I just shake my head. No I’m hallucinating I’ve had too much drink, oh God.

I’m saying this in the bathroom of the bar phone I’m sure you can hear the drum & based behind me. I went to the bathroom put some water on my face & head back to the bar & I go to the bar and I asked for 10 slushpuppy vodka shots in hope. that’s when I felt his arm go around my shoulder, I recognise that hand, so soft & large & it stroked my bra strap down & I just looked up at him & he looked down at me & we did the five shots each in unison & got to the last one & then the words escaped his Lips

“I miss you and I love you baby. “

Oh, you’re here & you ravaged me, the way your tongue flowed through my mouth hands caress my hips the way you held me close as my friends all cheered as we made out at the bar & they even turned on the sprinkler above us which the barman does when people are getting a little bit too intimate to break it up but didn’t Obviously. your hands went underneath my schoolgirl T-shirt & the way you made sure that I was being more than satisfied, damn, every single kiss every single toungue that invaded my own my tonsils feeling every inch oh Marcus oh Marcus. (Someone bangs on the bathroom door & Marcus shouts go away).

Waking up to you kissing my neck knowing that I ached knowing that you wanted some morning sex even though it was already noon. No way am I gonna be heading to the beach today because you are here in Florida spur moment with your friends because they got bored because we weren’t at home & now now you’re just… (muffled noise not picked up) Marcus, Marcus please oh you wanna you want some (gasp) oooh fuck yes oooh more baby oooh you missed this? Fuck oooh fucking fuck baby, more please please fuck baby, more (unable to detect the moaning) fuck yea like that just like ooooh fuck like that baby…

Marcus has just put on his shirt on, his holiday shirt obviously, they literally have come down here for Saturday & Sunday to make sure that we all remember all our boyfriends are like it’s a bit awkward for Tara but I’ll oh I never wanna leave Marcus side again the way in which he just made me cum so hard three times in a row he knows I’ve not bought anything with me to look after myself. oh, I’m gonna be thinking of nothing but his cock & the way in which he came, & the way that he sucked my nipples for the rest of the holiday I’m really looking forward to ripping my underwear when we get back next week & the way in which I will be laid on that bed & I won’t be able to go to work for next morning even though I should be there after having a few days off on holiday because I won’t be able to walk. Marcus it was a nice fly by drop in to make me feel good but now I’m lining for you more.

Yea diary that was last week when he arrived to make my trip memorable, I can’t believe it picked up some of our moans from the sex we had.

July

#pedro pascal #fanfic #my fics #smutt #no minors #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #over18 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal universe #pedro pascal fan fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fandom #marcus pike fanfics #marcus pike fan fic #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike fic

5 notes · View notes