#severe weather procedures

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

If you can't make it to the in person #Skywarn training sessions offered by local National Weather Service personnel, @NWSMorristown now offers a virtual #StormSpotter training website @ https://storymaps.arcgis.com/collections/bd6cffba42de4339981758cecc110e36

[morbidology]

In 1961, at just 27 years old, Leonid Rogozov was the sole physician stationed at a Soviet Antarctic research station. His skills were put to the ultimate test when he developed acute appendicitis—a life-threatening condition that required immediate surgery. Trapped in the remote wilderness of Antarctica, where evacuation was impossible due to severe weather conditions, Rogozov faced a dire situation: the only way to save his life was to perform an appendectomy on himself.

On April 30, 1961, Rogozov prepared for the operation with meticulous care. Using local anesthesia, he enlisted the help of two colleagues, who handed him surgical instruments, held a mirror for better visibility, and adjusted the lighting. Despite the challenges of performing the procedure on himself, including battling pain, nausea, and the psychological stress of operating on his own body, Rogozov successfully removed his inflamed appendix in a grueling operation that lasted nearly two hours.

[chronicbitchsyndrome]

speaking of professional dx, i think it's important to recognize that professionally dx'd disabled people are at a severe legal disadvantage compared to disabled people who purely self-id; one of the reasons i'm so intensely pro-self-dx and actively advocate for people to self-dx over professional dxing is because professional diagnosis comes with a cavalcade of systemic oppression and violence from the state, no matter what country you're in.

some things that professional diagnosis of a disability might do, depending on what disability and which country you live in:

bar you from adopting children

get your preexisting children removed from your care

bar you from immigration to most countries

open you up to conservatorship or other form of legal guardianship past the age of majority by your parents or other adults who care for your medical needs, without regard for your consent

remove your ability to consent to medical procedures or withhold consent for medical procedures

bar you from accessing gender care (if trans)

obviously, there's plenty of resources that are artificially gatekept behind professional diagnosis, like mobility aids that are only affordable through insurance, prescription medication, testing like blood tests and MRIs, AAC devices, and more. but i think it's important to remember that those of us who need these things aren't necessarily privileged by our professional diagnoses, insomuch as we're forced into a situation where we have to subject ourselves to endless state violence via professional diagnosis in order to have access to those necessary resources.

i think it's particularly important for those of us professionally diagnosed to remember that. there's a tendency in some circles to treat professional diagnosis like it makes us better or more "legitimately disabled" than self-id disabled folks; this isn't true and it's important to remember that we shouldn't feel the need to define ourselves by a thing that actively harms us. plus, just because someone doesn't have a professional diagnosis doesn't mean they don't need the resources that are kept behind it; often it means they can't afford to weather the state violence that comes with the dx, and so instead they have to suffer without medication or aids or testing and have a significantly worse and shorter life because of this. just because they have legal privilege over you doesn't mean they necessarily have social privilege over you or quality-of-life privilege.

[mosoderbergh]

Emmrich and the good old fashioned body heat trope

Ok, there’a a thing about Rook and Emmrich pre-romance and the “caught in the cold” trope that is just beautiful to me. Because it would go a lot more innocently than with other pairings. Emmrich is far too much of a gentleman. But that’s what makes this so cute. Like… hear me out.

Emmrich knows the importance of keeping warm and the advantages of sharing body heat. He’s the sort of man who would read up on survival procedures before venturing out into extreme weather.

But surely, a shirt is thin enough to not significantly hinder the transmission of warmth. Surely he couldn’t be expected to strip entirely. He gets rid of some layers, but stays buttoned up to his neck. (Rook is shirtless the moment the words “it might be advisable to, well, huddle up” exit Emmrich’s mouth. They notice Emmrich spends the rest of the night holding intently focussed eye contact.) They cocoon themselves in blankets, sitting by the fire, shoulder to shoulder, backs leaning against insert obligatory cave/cliffside/tree trunk here. Emmrich has read just enough bodice rippers that an image comes, unbidden, to his mind. Of a broad-chested hero gallantly drawing the object of his desire into his muscled arms as they shiver and swoon. He is shocked at himself when he feels a blush creep up his neck. To even allow such a thought! This is nothing like that. A dashing hero may be present, yes, but they are caught in the cold with a colleague several decades their senior. There is nothing swoonworthy about it.

Emmrich files the thought away, and despite the awkward situation, the evening goes on… really rather pleasantly. They end up talking for a good long while. Rook opens up about their own upbringing and Emmrich elaborates on his. They share nostalgic memories. Emmrich recounts some shenanigans from his student days, and Rook can’t believe there’s a mischievous side to him (the mischievous side in question was called Johanna, but Emmrich doesn’t speak her name).

At some point, the comfortable silences stretch out longer and longer. Rook’s head rests on Emmrich’s shoulder. They aren’t quite asleep yet - when he reacts to the contact with an intake of breath, they draw back for a moment. But then, Emmrich leans in, just slightly. Just enough to let them know the touch is not unwelcome. The way Rook curls up at his side then makes Emmrich ache a little. As someone who is an authority figure to so many people (in a way that isolates him sometimes) this simple act of intimacy is precious to him. A show of trust on such a personal level. It takes him more courage than he’d like to admit to rest his cheek against Rook’s hair. The way Rook sighs contentedly gives him goosebumps. It’s been quite a while since Emmrich has shared a bed with anyone. And this is an unusual situation, but still… he can’t help but think how he has missed it. The companionship. The warmth. Sinking into sleep with the comfort of a friendly presence. The intoxicating closeness of someone who has found their way into his heart - this is another thought he tucks away neatly.

And because I can’t resist another trope, of COURSE they shift in their sleep. Emmrich wakes to find himself spooning Rook, with one hand resting on their stomach. They are soft there, and radiating heat. Emmrich thanks every deity he can recount that he tends to wake up early, because if he hadn’t been hard upon waking, the sensation of their body against his, their skin underneath his fingertips would have done the trick. He retreats discreetly to lie on his back. Only for Rook to shift and settle with their head on his chest, one leg draping over him, grazing his erection in the movement. Emmrich forgets to breathe.

He does wake them up, after he’s gotten a hold of himself somewhat. They untangle from him with a sleepy apology. And Emmrich, for a moment, wants nothing more than to stop them, or pull them back into an embrace, or…

He chastises himself for being a touch-starved old fool. Making so much out of nothing. But then Rook slides a hand up to squeeze his shoulder, and they smile at him brightly, beautifully, and ask him if he slept well. And it’s all he can do to swallow a rather wordy confession of his growing infatuation.

(The beauty of Emmrich, to me, is that he’s both a “I could out-sex any man in this room” kind of guy AND an “omg I can’t believe our hands touched” kind of guy. I love him.)

[salternateunreality2]

Why are they in a blanket burrito? AGSZC

Angeal:

He's cold, his big ol bear body is great and all, but he's just cold today, ok? And maybe a little bit hiding from his mentee, who just found out about skibidi. He's happy and sleepy in his cocoon.

Sephiroth:

It's the closest he can get to feeling like he's back in the womb. Extra bonus points if someone else does the wrapping, but usually he has to wrap himself and it's not quiiiite tight enough. But he needs it. He feels melancholy but there's a hint of warmth to it.

Zack:

He is FREEZING!!! Jungle boy Zack is NOT prepared for Midgar weather!!! He is trotting and hopping around on just his heavily socked tiptoes trying to find a snuggle buddy. Also slipping a lot due to the socks. He's having a great time.

Cloud:

It's anywhere from several hours to a single nanosecond before he absolutely has to wake up, and if you bother him, you will perish. He is sleep-growling. He may or may not be comfortable and happy, but he is DEFINITELY going to rip your face off if disturbed.

Genesis:

He has to be restrained for a medical procedure, such as Angeal FORCE-FEEDING him HORRIBLE POISON (cough syrup and/or antibiotics) that's NOT EVEN APPLE FLAVORED. It is CRUEL, it is HARSH, it is A BREACH OF TRUST, he is IRATE!!! MAY THE GODDESS SMITE YOU ALL!!! Don't worry, the entire housing block knows of his plight.

[pmamtraveller]

SCENES FROM MODERN LIFE; THOMAS EAKINS

Thomas Eakins (1844–1916) was an influential American painter known for his realism and focus on the human form. His father was a calligrapher and writing teacher, and at first, that seems to have been Thomas Eakins’ direction, too. He studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts where he learnt drawing and anatomy.

The Champion Single Sculls (Max Schmitt in a Single Scull) (1871)

Created to commemorate the victory of Eakins's friend, Max Schmitt, in a rowing competition on Philadelphia's Schuylkill River. Eakins, a passionate oarsman himself, depicted Schmitt in a moment of calm rather than in the throes of competition. The painting captures great detail in the water, oars, and weather, Eakins even included himself in the artwork, rowing in the background.

Portrait of Dr. Samuel D. Gross (The Gross Clinic) (1875)

It is a portrait of the renowned Philadelphia surgeon in the surgical amphitheater of Jefferson Medical College (now part of Thomas Jefferson University). Eakins includes himself in the painting, seated at the far left, sketching the scene. The patient's mother, who looks away and shields her eyes, unable to watch the surgery, is also included. The procedure took place before the advent of aseptic technique, so instruments were clean but not sterile, gloves and gowns were not worn.

Arcadia (c 1883)

This painting was an unusual venture into mythology, created during a period when Eakins was experimenting with photography. Eakins had bought his first camera in 1880 and started to use it as a photographic sketchbook. Although it can be read as another step in his campaign for painting from life, the work features models posed in a pastoral setting, including his future wife, Susan Macdowell, and his nephew, Ben Crowell.

Swimming (The Swimming Hole) (1885)

Bathers have been a popular and recurrent theme in paintings since the dawn of the art. Here, Eakins features identifiable figures, which are Eakins himself and several of his students. However, its exhibition in 1885 sparked controversy due to its graphic portrayal of nudity and identifiable figures. This backlash contributed to Eakins's resignation from the Academy in 1886 after a series of complaints about his promotion of nude studies.

The Agnew Clinic (1889)

This fine painting shows the surgeon performing a partial mastectomy, and the whole scene is a testament of how surgery had advanced in just fourteen years. The clean white gowns worn by the doctors, the use of sterilized instruments, techniques promoted by Agnew. Eakins completed the painting quickly, in just three months, rather than the year he took for his earlier masterpiece, The Gross Clinic.

[race-week]

im new to f1 so i hope this doesnt come off as a bit stupid but can you explain what goes into deciding a red flag (for example lance strolls barrier crash taking longer than the others) thank you!!

Typically barrier repairs in qualifying require red flags, but red flags are never instantaneous as there’s a procedure that has to be followed

The process for flags is

Incident happens, nearest marshal post waves either yellow or double yellow flags depending on severity.

The race director assesses the situation and decides whether to red flag it.

Therefore there’s always some sort of delay between the initial yellow flag and the red flag, as race control assesses.

Marshals themselves can’t wave red flags, a red flag can only be enforced by race control.

In the past they’ve been criticised by drivers and fans for putting out red flags too soon, i.e. when drivers ended up being able to get the car going and get back to the pits, so typically there is a period of time where if the driver is trying to get the car going they’ll wait.

Now this shouldn’t have really been the case for Stroll due to the damage of his car, he wouldn’t have been able to get it back to the pits safely, but that is likely the reason for the delay. In addition race direction have access to the main TV feed but not any additional onboards (only what’s shown on the main feed), they also have the on track CCTV which can be kind of iffy in poor weather so they don’t always have the best information available.

Typically from yellow/double yellow to red it takes about 20 seconds, this qualifying had a couple shorter ones, about 7-10s, a 25s one and a 40s one.

Also this isn’t for you anon but :

Race Control are not Stewards

[rocksandrobots]

PotP Ch 56 - Blizzards, Blackbirds, and Bargains: Part 2

Well, technically not from Corona directly. The dagger that laid out on the table before them bore the symbol of the Brotherhood, the crest of Umbra. Which was close enough. 

Another dimension was another dimension after all. 

“Watcha looking at?” Aunt Cass peered over the teens shoulders to see what had caused such fuss and fascination. 

“Uh… nothing.” Hiro squeaked. 

“Varian found a neat dagger in the snow.” Tadashi answered, cool as can be. “Someone must have dropped it. We're trying to figure out who it belongs to.” 

“Well, your best bet is to turn it over to the lost and found at the police station.” Aunt Cass advised, as she walked over to the TV controls laying behind the counter. “You can give it to Chief Cruz once the storm is over.” 

She flipped on the TV to see the weather. 

“As you can see here, there's another cold front coming in tonight.” The weather girl said, pointing towards a green-screened map. “While the snow has eased up some, we're expecting more flurries later on in the day and even possibly some sleet tonight.” 

“Therefore we advised people to still stay indoors and if you have to go out, try to get your errands done before 3 PM. The trolley will run from 10 to 2 in the afternoon for those of you who do need to travel.

Over to you Duff.” 

The scene changed to the news anchor at his desk. 

“Thank you Sheryl. Breaking news this morning. Apparently a series of burglaries happened last night while the city was distracted with the snow storm. Several banks, jewelry stores, and museums are reporting losses, with no evidence as to who the perpetrator might be.” 

The scene changed again, and Chief Cruz, all bundled up in scarf and earmuffs, stood in front of the police station. 

“We think it's an inside job. There's no signs of forced entry and all of the security cameras were tampered with. In addition, given the sheer volume of items missing and the distance between the various locations that were hit, would seem to suggest that multiple robberies happened near simultaneously; indicating an organized crime ring.” 

While the Chief went on explaining proper safety procedures, the rest of the gang shared knowing looks.

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

It was difficult to see through the swiftly falling snow as the heroes flew, skated, and teleported across the city. Even Baymax’s sensors seemed to be on the fritz. 

Despite this, the gang had found various treasures haphazardly strewn about town. Tapestries, toy chessmen, fur cloaks, small chests, other weapons, books, scrolls, a lone deerskin boot, and even a parchment map that was torn to shreds; all of it tossed about by the wind and all of it foreign to this world. 

Varian’s goggles fogged up as he stepped out of the portal onto a rooftop. He wiped them clear with his sleeve and bent down to pick up another artifact. 

This one was a ragdoll, worn, faded, and tattered, as if it hadn't been played with in years. In fact a lot of the stuff they had found was in a damaged state; as if all this stuff had been abandoned and thrown into this world like garbage. The dagger he had first found being the most intact due to the material it was made of. 

Varian frowned. The doll’s coal black eyes stared back at him dully. They were also made of obsidian; same as the dagger, same as the stone chess pieces, and same as the arm bangle they had found earlier. Varian didn't know much about his father’s home country, but he did know that stone carving was a time honored tradition there. 

He himself had never learned the craft, but his dad’s skills had been well regarded. He would, on rare occasions, carve small gifts out of stone. A toy here, a piece of jewelry there; quartz wedding rings were popular in the village and one of Varian’s favorite toys growing up was a carved knight on horseback. 

“Oooh! I found a dress!” Honey Lemon’s voice broke out over the intercom, snapping him out his thoughts. “Well part of a dress anyways. One of the sleeves is missing.” 

“Wooop! Yes! I found an axe!” Fred hooted with joy. 

“You're not keeping the axe, Fred.” Wasabi dismissed. 

“But-” 

“Put it down.” Gogo demanded. 

“As cool as all this medieval stuff is…” Tadashi chimed in, ignoring the argument over the axe, “has anybody figured out where it's all coming from yet?” 

“I may have found something.” Hiro said as he flew past on Baymax. “Meet me in the park.”

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

“Well I guess we found that ‘cold front’ the weatherman said to look out for.” 

Wasabi was the first to speak, if nothing else than to ease the overwhelming sense of dread that had overcome the group. 

Before them, at the top of king’s hill in the park, was the largest portal they had ever seen. 

It stood as tall and as wide as a two story building. 

There were no frames nor turbines, like with previous set ups, but there was a swirling vortex of energy that whirled around the gateway. And this gateway led straight to a raging snow storm. 

Wind, sleet, and snow blasted out of the inter-dimensional window and into the freezing San Fansokyo air. 

Hiro gulped. “S-so how do we stop it?” 

“Over here!” Gogo called out. “I think I found the controls.” 

They met her at the foot of the hill where stood a metal podium with controls built into the top and a generator beside it. Varian kicked over some snow to find the buried wires traveling back towards the top of the hill, and presumably whatever electronics kept the portal in place. 

“Hey look!” Fred yelled as he opened up a nearby sack. “Do you suppose they're using these to power the portal?” 

He held up a diamond, looking through it like a spyglass. 

“No, but I do think we’ve just found all of the stolen loot that went missing last night.” Hiro said, opening up another bag to find a pearl necklace. 

“So you're telling me that whoever opened up the portal to the fairytale dimension, decided to go on a robbery spree?” Tadashi asked, incredulously. “Wouldn't they have they're own riches in that Umbra kingdom?” 

“Looked more like junk to me.” Gogo commented; pulling out a single ripped leather glove from her back pocket and holding it up to remind everyone the real value of the other worldly treasures they had found. 

“Maybe they're a part of the fae and are like exchanging trash for shiny stuff cause they think it's an even trade or something?” Fred guessed.

“The fae wouldn't use electricity, Fred.” Varian stated matter of factly as he examined the controls. That's when his eyes landed on the blue folder. 

“That's Callahan’s notebook.” Hiro said when he noticed what Varian was holding. “But I thought you lost it.” 

“So did I.” Varian muttered as he flipped through the notes. 

“But both Callahan and Momosake are still in jail.” Honey Lemon timidly pointed out. “Who else would have known about it?” 

They all got their answer when another, smaller portal opened up right next to them, and out stepped Sirque with a bag slung over her shoulder and a stolen crown perched precariously on top of her head. 

Super villain and heroes stared at each other for a moment, stunned. Until Sirque rolled her eyes, dropped the bag of loot, and raised her hands. 

“Alright, fine. You caught me.” 

“Shut the portal down now!” Varian demanded.

Sirque took a step back, surprised by the ferocity in his voice. 

“Okay… okay. It'll take a moment to power everything down ...” 

She turned off the smaller portal behind her and walked over to the control panel. 

“You have to shut everything off in sequence or it'll risk an implosion.” She finished explaining. 

“That's the least of our problems.” Varian muttered. 

“I don't know. ‘Imploding giant portal’ does sound like a pretty big problem to me.” Wasabi countered. 

“Listen. The rocks could come through at any moment. That's a far bigger worry right now.” 

“Rocks?” Sirque asked. 

“Do you have any idea where that portal leads to?” Varian responded. 

“The frozen tundra.”  She pointed back towards the gateway like it was obvious. 

“Yes… the frozen tundra of a completely different dimension.” 

Sirque blinked at him, unsure how to respond to such a statement, but then decided it didn't matter. 

She rolled her eyes again and shrugged. “If you say so.” And then began the power down sequence. 

She didn't get the chance to finish. 

Halfway through the ground began to rumble under their feet. But before anyone could yell “Earthquake!”, black stalagmites burst from below. They barreled straight towards the group, towering as tall as a grown man, before abruptly stopping a few feet past where they all stood. 

It was all over and done within a matter of seconds. The gang of superheroes barely had time to roll out of the way from the onslaught. 

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.”  Honey Lemon kept repeating over and over again as she clung to the base of one of the rocks in shock. 

“What was that!?” Sirque yelled. 

“The rocks.” Varian answered, lifting Hiro off his feet. 

“Is everyone okay?” Gogo shouted. 

“I’ve been better.” Wasabi grunted. 

Everyone rushed to his side. One of the black spikes had pierced his armor, breaking the shoulder guard and grazing his shoulder. 

“It sliced right through my shield like a knife through butter.” He hissed, as Baymax applied antiseptic to his wound. 

“Fortunately it doesn't look too deep.” Tadashi said, examining Baymax's handiwork. 

“Only a minor cut.” The robot confirmed. “It should heal within a few days.” 

“I wish the same could be said about the portal.” Fred replied. 

The others turned to look at him. He was standing near the now busted up control panel, holding a severed cord. 

Sirque’s eyes widened with horror. “Oh that is not good.” 

“Please don't say why.” Hiro whispered. 

Sirque ignored his pleas. “The generator was used to kick start the portal, but the electromagnets use kinetic motion to maintain energy. Without the controls, I can't tell the portal to power down.” 

“No…. No…” Varian practically laughed in disbelief. “Do NOT tell me you don't have a way to shut the portal down.” 

“Well there is a backup… but…” 

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “No buts, where is it?” 

Pinned in his grasp, she timidly pointed back towards the portal. 

“There’s another set of controls on the other end, to stabilize the connection.” 

Gogo spoke up first. “So you’re telling us, someone has to go in there, turn everything off, and then get back through the collapsing portal before they're trapped in another dimension for all time?” 

“Why do you keep saying it's another dimension?” 

“Because it is!” Varian shouted, finally letting go of her. “Or do you think those are natural to this world!?” 

He pointed back towards the rocks. 

Sirque frowned. 

“You don't… you don't know that. They could be.. they be an unstudied phenomenon-”

“ I've studied them. I've spent my life studying them. Their chemical makeup doesn't match anything on this Earth. Their physical priorities defy basic physics. They've managed to go against all known scientific research.” 

“Trust us.” Tadashi stepped in. “It's alien, and so is he, and that portal you just built leads to another world.” 

“You must be joking.” But she didn't sound confident, not in the slightest. 

“Joking or not, we need to get those controls rebuilt and that portal turned off asap.” 

“We don't have time.” Varian hissed. 

“Nobody's going through that portal.” 

Varian pressed his lips tightly together as if considering a further argument, but then huffed and marched over to the control panel instead. 

“We need a soldering tool.” He said. 

“I have a toolbox.” Sirque offered, and ran to her stash to get it. 

Those not versed in portal tech, stood to the side and watched. 

Honey Lemon had finally calmed down but still looked shell shocked, while the rest of the gang shuffled nervously, unsure what to do. 

“Screwdriver!” Varian called out, while Sirque connected the power cables. 

Gogo handed him the tool out of the toolbox. 

“So… those are what destroyed your village?” She asked. 

“Yeah, and they'll destroy San Fansokyo if we don't get this portal closed.” 

He finished screwing back in the brackets on the casing, and putting the screwdriver in his mouth, took two ends of a severed wire in his hand and spliced them together.

“Gat me a mut, mill ma?” He hummed, and Gogo went hunting for a ceramic nut for the wires. 

“How much time do we have?” Tadashi asked, peering over the other side of the panel. 

Varian spit out the screwdriver into his hand as Gogo handed him some nuts and terminal ends. 

“No idea. It could be a couple of hours or just a few minutes.” 

“What's our backup plan if we run out of time?”

Varian stopped and stared hard at him. 

“There is no backup. Nothing can stop the rocks. Nothing. So don't even try it.” 

Tadashi frowned, but for once didn't argue.

Hiro kept a pensive eye on the portal as he listened in on his brothers’ conversation. 

“Baymax?” He quietly asked his robot companion, hopefully out of earshot of the others. “Can you detect where the other control panel is?” 

Baymax scanned the portal entrance way. 

“They're is an energy signal coming about half a mile from the portal’s entrance.” 

“How fast can you get to it?” 

“Given wind resistance, I estimate roughly three minutes.” 

“So three minutes to get back through the portal before it collapses, plus whatever time it would take to turn it off. How much time would it take for the portal to close completely?” 

Baymax gave the best imitation of a shrug that he could. “I'm afraid I do not have enough information to make that calculation.” 

Hiro mulled over the options in his mind as he walked over towards the reconstruction. 

“Hey Sirque, if someone went through the portal-”

“No one is going through the portal.” Tadashi interrupted. 

Hiro ignored him, “How hard would it be to turn the other set of controls off?” 

“Not hard. It's just a simple powering down sequence.” She answered off handily as she flipped through her notes. “First the electromagnets have to be told to slow down, and then the signal has to be shut off, then finally you can cut the power. Do it out of order though and the portal could implode.” 

Hiro nodded. “The magnets have to stay stabilized till the power is fully off, got it. So all together, you think what, about six minutes to power it all down?” 

Sirque gave it some thought. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Given the portal's size, it's not instantaneous like with my portable tech.” 

“I know what you're thinking, and no.” Tadashi said. 

“You said we needed a backup.” Hiro argued back. “Baymax and I could fly in there and out again the quickest.” 

“Well fortunately we won't need to risk it because Varian is going to fix the panel here. Ain’t that right, V?” 

In answer the control panel sparked and caught on fire. As Varian frantically scrambled away, Baymax calmly put out the small flame with his built in extinguisher. 

“It's o-okay.” Varian tried to keep the rising panic out of his voice as he examined the damage. “It's just a little surface scaring. Nothing major. I can still fix this.” 

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than did the ground start to rumble again. Varian gulped down his fear and turned to look at the portal. 

More rocks were heading their way, but this time they were further off. 

They could see the black spikes puncturing the snow off in the distance, but it wouldn't take long for the dangerous formations to reach them. Certainly not before Varian had a chance to rewire the controls. 

A scream from Honey Lemon broke Varian out of his racing thoughts. 

“Hiro NO!!!” 

Too late. 

Varian barely had time to register the wind rushing past him as Baymax blasted off towards the portal.

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

Hiro ignored everyone's cries as he rushed through the portal. 

He wasn't sure what he had expected when entering another world, but honestly it didn't look any different from the images of Alaska you'd see on National Geographic. He could understand why Sirque would have assumed that she had created another spacial portal like all the others. The only thing indicating it's alien nature was the large black pointy rocks spiking up through the snow, and they had only just appeared five minutes ago. 

Yet despite having not been there moments before, the rocks already trailed off far into the distant horizon in a winding, erratic line as far as the eye could see. Like a giant black serpent snaking its way through the snow. 

The enormity of it filled his stomach with lead. These things were fast, and right now they were heading straight towards San Fansokyo. And given the evidence of what he'd seen here, they wouldn't stop at just the city. 

“I have found the controls.” Baymax interrupted his thoughts as they landed near another metal podium. The rocks had thankfully just missed it by a few feet. Hiro wasted no time in jumping off and dashing towards the panel. 

The power down procedure was simple enough. The control layout wasn't much different from Varian’s portal at school. Probably because both were based off of Callaghan’s work on the Silent Sparrow project. 

He flipped the final switch and heard the telltale sign of sparking electromagnets slowly winding down in the distance. 

“Quick, Baymax!” 

He jumped onto the robot’s back in mid-flight and they took off at full blast towards the portal. 

They were racing side by side with the rocks now. Which somehow managed to just keep pace ahead of them by a few yards. 

Hiro forced himself to tear his eyes away from unnatural phenomena and focus on their destination instead. 

The energy glow around the doorway was dimming and Hiro could just make out the shapes of his friends in the distance. 

They were beginning to run towards them, no doubt calling out to him. 

He gauged the distance. A little more than a football field to go… Five hundred feet… Four hundred… Three hundred… Two…

“Come on… come on…” He hissed, willing them to go faster… or for the rocks to go slower… or for the power to stay on longer… 

They were only ten feet away when the energy connecting the magnets arched, sputtered, and then died away. 

“NOOOO!!!” 

His friends, the portal, and the gleaming towers of San Fansokyo faded away into a swirl of white snow right as he and Baymax flew past what should have been the gateway. 

Baymax skidded to a halt and hovered there as Hiro looked on in horror at the nothingness before them. 

Nothing but the snow and the back rocks; which continued on regardless.

[calciumdeficientt]

Cal !! Saw the previous ask about Bryce and I absolutely loved your ideas- do you have anything in mind for Gord dearest?

Please, call me milky!

Anyway …Gorrrrrrrd! Gord was my first love, he was the first NPC i heard speak when i played the game (past this is your school,obvs) and he’s the one that hit me over the head with the autism sledgehammer. i want to scrunch him up and throw him in a wood chipper

GORD VENDOME HCS

He’s the cuntiest bitch on the bullworth academy campus and I’m literally not going to accept any form of argument, he came out of the womb wearing aquaberry. He lives and breathes it, its his lifeblood. He plans his walk around school to and from each class, checking the weather to make sure he if needs to tweak any parts of the route so that’s he has the best chance of getting every student to see how effortless, demure and graceful he is in his choice of fine clothes, jewellery and hair care. No one is fooled by him, they know it takes a hell of a lot of effort.

Gord does a closet reshuffle every 6 months or so, just to make sure all his clothes are on trend and in season. This is standard prep procedure, but what makes Gord’s rearranging so special is that he literally cannot bear to throw anything away. He attaches memories to every stitch of fabric he’s ever put on his body, he’s a work of art and therefore every single outfit he’s ever worn simply has to be memorialised, he can’t throw it all away. His father has dedicated several houses just to the backlog of Gord’s discarded clothing. There’s more than enough in there to fully stock several Aquaberry locations for literal decades.

He gets dreadful hay fever, its actually kind of disgusting to look at him if he hasn’t taken an antihistamine. Luckily very few people have ever seen him like that, he has several boxes on his person at all times during the spring and summer. He just doesnt have the heart to tell Jimmy about his pollen allergy, so when he’s given flowers he has to hold all of his sneezes in. This then makes his eyes water, and therefore makes Jimmy think he’s so overjoyed with the gift that he’s moved to tears. Luckily for gord he keeps several hand stitched silk handkerchiefs on his person at all times, initialled with thread made of spun gold, he’s not some kind of common mutt that uses disposable tissues.

Gord is a rather talented pianist, he was given the choice as a child to either play polo with his father, or take piano lessons. The thought of the latter made him so lightheaded he thought that he was having a heart attack so he chose to play piano instead. His family have a very nice grand piano in their house’s foyer, but a separate, dedicated room for music practice with an equally expensive, but less aesthetically pleasing piano. On special occasions when the Vendomes wanted to show off, they’d plonk Gord in front of the piano and set him loose. It was usually Schubert or Bach to show how deeply cultured their young son was; but in his personal time, Gord found he much preferred to play the works of more modern classical composers, Leonard Cohen was a particular favourite in his early teens. He doesn’t play all that often nowadays, he’s much too busy, but every time he thinks he might be forgetting he’ll spend an hour or so playing through the giant stack of sheet music he’s accumulated over the years.

His cologne is one of a kind, hand mixed by a company in Milan, its tailored to him and only him and was originally a gift for his 10th birthday. It’s more feminine smelling than most colognes but he thinks it makes him stand out more, he’s not a traditionally masculine guy, so he likes that his cologne reflects that. He’s been gifted many other scents, usually from distant relatives or prospective marriage candidates that dont really know him but they’re just not the same.

Actually got bullied so insanely hard for his ears when he was a kid that he refused to leave the house without a hat on. Even when he first came to bullworth kids weren’t the nicest to him. His ears are a big source of insecurity for him and he is in the process of convincing his father to let him get surgery to tuck them in. His satellite dishes are so cute and he should never get rid of them but its not really up to me.

Comforts Pinky when Derby forgets about every single one of their dates, he takes her shopping for whatever she wants, to dinner someplace exclusive (he always makes reservations on days when those two have dates, he just knows Derby will bail), and then back to Harrington house to watch movies. He openly cries at the sad parts of the romcoms they inevitably end up watching, often more so than Pinky.

Holds a fondness for poor people that not even he himself can fully explain. If he had to pinpoint it, its their freedoms. They’re free to be content with nothing, or to work to fix it, they dont start at an advantage in life and therefore get to enjoy the ride a little bit more. Thats his rose tinted view of it anyway, obviously he hasn’t the time to spend creating a nuanced understanding of his infatuation, he just accepts it as part of his psyche and moves on with his own, utterly fabulous life.

[yossipossi]

I've read 8980 three times for the drawings and a deep dive. I still have these questions about the article.

1: The Clearance Levels appear to be different from what Articles and Tales I read on site. I'm curious if there's a hierarchy for Clearance Levels and what the system looks like.

2: This can be excused by there being no canon, but I questioned if it was intentional. In the Site-17 Deepwell, Allan Weathers got promoted from Site-17's Director to O5-4, then Thomas Graham took Weather's former position. In the reviewer annotation, Weathers is a Senior Researcher and Graham's Site Director.

3: At Addendum 10: Neutralization. The interview between McPharrell and Marely, it implies that McPharrell only just noticed the "several alarming features" Lillian possessed. This can include not just demeanor but her appearance. Also, Prior to Byrnes retiring, McPharrell (and Steele) were in violation of gross negligence, so that can tie together.

Including "Testing 8980-C-36", it can be used as a containment procedure. In that case, whether Byrnes did this on purpose for indirect contact with Lillian or not is in question for me.

4: When describing Lillian's mental state at the end, my brain can't decipher what her overall behavior would be like, so I was wondering if I could have a rationale of it.

I know I'll still be asking questions regarding your articles and for other stuff. 8980 was a very interesting article to dive into. The 8980 drawings are at a halt from my art project being due, but I should be back at it in around 3 days.

Sorry for the late reply! I forgot my inbox had messages haha.

1: I think it's more realistic for the Foundation to mete out specific clearances for specific things rather than just use a 1-5 scale for everyone and everything. The EthComm and RAISA would definitely have their own clearance hierarchy too, which I've seen reflected in some other articles.

2: Honestly unsure. I used Weathers because I needed a name and I asked Nagiros if it made sense to use him in this context at this time. Ve said yes.

3: Not *entirely* sure what you're asking here 😅

4: Well, she's definitely a mentally fatigued and abused person. She had difficulties forming and maintaining interpersonal relationships because her social interactions for ten years were mostly just Byrnes and occasionally someone else who were always clinically detached.

Her technophobia not only stems from Byrnes's technology-oriented abuse of her, but also from that fact that — as mentioned at some point earlier on —NETLOG got depreciated and was replaced by Framerail, so she has to relearn everything she was doing before and it's just too overwhelmed, especially combined with an intrinsic fear of failure coupled with fear of punishment.

The other psychological symptoms mentioned in the article are mixtures of coping mechanisms and neuroticism from being confined in a cell for a decade.

I'm glad the article was captivating enough to warrant three (wow!) rereads and a deepdive from you. I hope I could provide satisfactory answers!

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

@NWSMorristown - which covers part of the @WDEFNews12 viewing area - offering in-person #Skywarn #stormspotter training class at Old Harrison ES, Tuesday, Feb 4, 2025, 6 PM EST. Class size limited to 100. Register now at: https://www.weather.gov/mrx/skywarn_classes 

[gf2bellamy]

captured — bellamy blake

pairing: bellamy blake x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: bellamy rescuing you from mount weather content warnings: being kidnapped by mount weather, danger of bone marrow transplant but nothing happens, multiple mentions of a syringe

The cold, clinical corridors of Mount Weather stretched endlessly, their sterile silence broken only by the distant hum of machinery and muffled cries from other prisoners. The fluorescent lights above flickered erratically, casting distorted shadows that seemed to writhe along the walls like specters. 

Every breath was heavy with the stench of antiseptic and fear, a nauseating combination that clung to the air. Somewhere in the labyrinth of hallways, you were trapped—another victim of Mount Weather's cruel experiments. 

Inside a dark room, you lay strapped to a metal table, your wrists and ankles bound tightly with unforgiving restraints. The surgical light above burned brightly, its glare blinding and relentless. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you strained against the bonds, the cool metal biting into your skin. 

The doctor beside you moved with precision, his gloved hands organizing an array of instruments on a tray. You could hear his voice, low and clinical, discussing the procedure with an assistant as if you weren’t even there. The sound of their conversation sent shivers of dread down your spine. 

Your breath hitched as the doctor leaned over you, syringe in hand, the liquid inside glinting ominously in the harsh light. Panic surged through you. Tears pricked your eyes as you squirmed against the restraints, but they didn’t give. 

Somewhere beyond the thick walls, Bellamy Blake moved with quiet urgency. 

Clad in tactical gear and armed with nothing but his gun and  determination, he navigated the corridors.  

So far, he’d freed several captives, each one more injured and terrified than the last. But it wasn’t enough—not until he found you.  

Back in the room, the doctor moved you with the syringe. Your eyes widened, and a strangled cry escaped your lips as you turned your head away, tears streaming down your cheeks. The assistant held your arm steady as the needle hovered closer. 

The door suddenly crashed open with a deafening bang, the force sending the assistant stumbling back. 

“Step away from her!” Bellamy’s voice thundered, cutting through the tension like a blade. His rifle was raised, his finger steady on the trigger, and his eyes blazed with anger. 

The doctor froze mid-action, his face paling. For a moment, silence hung in the air, thick and crackling with tension. 

Bellamy’s gaze darted to you, strapped down and trembling. Something inside him snapped at the sight—your tear-streaked face, the fear in your eyes, the way your body shook against the cold, sterile table. 

He didn’t hesitate. 

With two quick strides, Bellamy closed the distance, his boot kicking the tray of instruments to the floor with a loud clatter. The assistant bolted for the corner, hands raised in surrender. Bellamy turned his focus back to you, his hands working frantically to undo the restraints. 

“Bellamy,” you gasped, your voice breaking on his name. Relief washed over you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, the terror receded. 

“I’m here,” he said, his voice softer now but still laced with urgency. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” 

His hands trembled slightly as he worked the last restraint loose. The moment your wrist was free, you surged up, throwing your arms around him in a desperate embrace. His gun clattered to the ground as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one hand cradling the back of your head. 

“It’s over,” he murmured into your hair, his voice a soothing balm against the storm of your emotions. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” 

You clung to him like a lifeline, your fingers fisting the fabric of his jacket as you buried your face against his chest. His heartbeat, strong and steady beneath your ear, grounded you. 

“I was so scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I thought they were going to—” 

“They didn’t,” Bellamy interrupted firmly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was intense, full of a mixture of relief and guilt. “I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not now, not ever.” 

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking into your chest.  

“Can you walk?” he asked gently, his hands still braced on your shoulders. 

Your legs felt like jelly as you swung them off the table, but with Bellamy’s steadying arm around your waist, you managed to stand.  

“Yeah,” you said shakily, leaning into him for support. 

“Good,” he replied, his tone firm but reassuring. “Stay close to me.” 

With one arm wrapped protectively around you, Bellamy led you out of the room. The oppressive halls of Mount Weather seemed less daunting with him by your side. 

[open-hearth-rpg]

Journeys: Great RPG Mechanics #RPGMechanics: Week Five

In Playing at the World Jon Peterson mentions the impact of the board game Outdoor Survival (1972). It influenced early D&D– framing the act of crossing wild distances as an adventure unto itself, with perils beyond monsters. This theme appeared in several early board games– traveling out into a blank map, filling it in, and dealing with random events (Source of the Nile, Magic Realm, The Mystic Wood). The third booklet of original Dungeons & Dragons, “The Underworld & Wilderness Adventures,” specifically references Outdoor Survival and using it in play. 

So, while dungeons have always captured the imagination, travelling through great spans has always been a close-run second. The popularity of hex-crawls and point-crawls, moving through unknown space, illustrates something basic. There’s no functional difference between different spaces and locations within a game. A dungeon, in terms of motion through it, mechanically operates like a forest or a city. The party moves through a space and arrives at an event. There’s some description possibly of the passage, but functionally it is the same. 

The difference lies in the trappings and mechanics: time, obstacles, physicality, travel resources, etc. There are some meta-considerations as well. I remember running a city-based campaign which had a set of maps I’d drawn of different neighborhoods and areas. I had a player complain that he wanted a traveling campaign, to see different things. I explained that the city was varied and interesting– going to other places and neighborhoods could be just as cool. We went back and forth as I tried to drill down on what he wanted. 

It eventually came out that he wanted a game where his character could loot, destroy, and shit on folks and then move on. Having a game in a city meant he’d have to deal with people and potentially suffer consequences. 

In any case, if time and distance function mechanically the same across different sizes and instances (dungeon, wilderness, city), how does a game differentiate? The most common tool has been random encounters– with chances varying based on the terrain. Different environments have different appearance rates. That’s an approach ubiquitous to early FRPGs. That might then be elaborated with guidelines for speed, exhaustion, weather, supply, and encumbrance. The level depends on how crunchy the game is. In fact these kinds of systems have been a hallmark of trad approaches. 

So it was interesting to see a more modern, story-driven game take a swing at travel and work to integrate it into play. The One Ring (with the original subtitle of Adventures over the Edge of the Wild) aims for this. TOR has some trappings of the trad game, like Encumbrance but handled simply. It has the need for a map and the calculation of possible distance and travel time. Resolution here goes through setting route, judging distance, multiplying by terrain, and comparing that to speed. That generally determines the number of fatigue tests being made. 

Those tests are made by the traveling companions, with each having a different role. We have the Guide (making decisions), Scout (setting up camp), Huntsman (finding food), Look-out Man (keeping watch). Journeys have a set procedure beyond fatigue tests with players carrying out their role and comparing it to a hazard target, with different events possible.   

Forbidden Lands takes a page from TOR, echoing this procedure. It falls somewhere between Mutant: Year Zero’s zone exploration and TOR’s role system. In practice it feels a little more mechanical and wearing than a Tolkien-esque journey. Forbidden Land’s travel can be brutal– that’s a feature of the base game system. The land is supposed to be harsh, newly opened after a post-apocalyptic calamity. In that sense it works, but in play it can seem absolutely punishing for players who don’t expect it. I definitely want to explore travel in play– with something more than just an Undertake a Perilous Journey move. In theory I love the idea of a deep journey procedure, but neither TOR or FL exactly hit what I want. The former feels like too much calculation and too many rolls potentially and the latter like a procedure for beating down the player’s resources. I love the idea of Journey mechanics, but I want something which falls in the middle of those– offers interesting play, adds to the story, and feels like the sweeping grandeur of crossing great distances.

[avalypuff]

I have more headcanons that I don’t think I can make into detailed stand-alone posts on their own, so I’m going to compile them here.

If it wasn’t clear, I absolutely love Rauru, Mineru, and what little we know of Zonai as a whole, so these are all about them as well a few snippets of their culture. Please refer to this post for my views on hybridization with other races.

Headcanons are under the cut. Oh also, just to clarify, I’m a believer that BotW/TotK are their own separate entities totally separate from all past games including SS. Please keep that in mind if anything “doesn’t add up with the timeline” :)

Food

• Zonai are carnivorous (this I believe is more than just headcanon, going off the fact all their teeth, even their molars, are sharp). While they can eat fruits and vegetables in small portions, they can’t sustain a healthy vegetarian/vegan lifestyle and will eventually become malnourished and sick without meat.

They’re also uniquely capable of digesting monster parts, unlike Hylians who get sick even from thoroughly cooked parts. Zelda was particularly surprised/concerned to see Rauru enjoying some Octorok calamari, and the following occurred:

“You can eat that?” -Zelda

“I can. Unfortunately you cannot.” -Rauru

• Rauru loves sweet food, such as glazed meats, and brown sugar steaks, while just about the only thing Mineru enjoys enough to eat consistently is a simple dish of spicy meat skewers. Rauru himself has no tolerance for spiciness. Never had, never will.

Physiology and Culture

• Zonai men are commonly known as “bucks” and women are “does” (like deer—goats too, lol)

• Zonai shed. Particularly in spring, as the weather gets warmer. Their fur might be short, save for areas where it grows longer and scale-like, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, especially when you’re sharing sheets with one.

• The third eye doesn’t have the same type of sight that their main eyes have. It’s an organ used to focus their magic, hence why it never opens unless they’re conjuring a huge spell.

• Males grow four horns, which, if not filed regularly*, can grow up to several inches, with the lower set remaining smaller and shorter.

Females cannot grow horns at all.

In the case of trans individuals it’s not uncommon for does to choose hairstyles that would hide their horns from view, but it’s in no way frowned upon to show one’s horns or lack there of if gender doesn’t align with physical appearance. De-horning is an extremely painful procedure, and not expected, though some opt for it anyways.

*Rauru files his horns each morning as part of his personal care routine.

• Fancy headdresses that give the wearer large, ornamental horns (think the dragon armor sets Link wears) are worn by both does and bucks during ceremonies or even celebrations/parties. Everyone loves them.

• Zonai don’t really have surnames. Instead they practice naming conventions based on their fathers’ names. In Mineru and Rauru’s case, their father’s name also ended in ‘ru. This wasn’t practiced by every family, mind you, but definitely by nobility.

• They don’t really kiss. Their lips physically can’t curl outwards like that. Instead, they share affection with tender nuzzling (gentle biting and licking when things get steamy).

Rauru loves being kissed by Sonia though, and always returns her affection in a Zonai way.

• Families typically consisted of mother, father, and one or two children at most. They had slightly longer lifespans than Hylians (Think a couple decades. Nothing extreme.) but didn’t breed as often, so their numbers were already low when they began going extinct. More on that in a minute.

• The same attributes of Zonaite that made it an efficient fuel source also give off a strange and poorly-understood radiation that invokes feelings of greed in those who spend a lot of time with it. This is part of what originally lead the Zonai to the surface, then later all the way into the depths, where they built mines all throughout in their desperate search for more.

As fate would have it, the depths concealed more than just tons of Zonaite. There is an entirely different ecosystem down there, with plant life, animals, and insects unknown to the surface world, as well as less... desirable life forms. Opening up and exploring the depths, as well as putting forth massive construction efforts to build mines, exposed the Zonai explorers to the first strains of a virus that would eventually devastate their entire civilization.

It didn’t happen all at once, but gradually over time they realized people who spent time in the depths were getting sick, and for some reason it was only the Zonai who were succumbing to the illness. More Constructs were brought in to aid with mining in place of people, but the damage had already been done and the virus was making its way to the surface world as well as the sky.

Despite the best efforts of researchers and doctors, the virus was spreading and mutating too fast, and 100 years after originally digging into the depths and unleashing the sickness onto the world, almost all the Zonai were completely wiped out.

• Mineru and Rauru were born at the tail end of the pandemic/mass extinction, and by the time Mineru was a teenager and Rauru almost as well, they were the last of their kind.

Rauru and Mineru

• Rauru, while used to being revered as a god by Hylians, doesn’t exactly enjoy it. …This I feel is supported somewhat in the scene where Ganondorf is loading him up with praise. Granted Rauru’s clear discomfort could just as easily be attributed to Ganondorf’s thinly-veiled threats. I like to think it’s both, as we also learn from the Ancient Tablets side quest that part of what caused him to fall in love with Sonia was that she was unafraid to speak to him as an equal, unlike everyone else who reveres him. This headcanon is a play on the trope “it’s lonely at the top.”

• When Rauru first proposed to Sonia, with a Secret Stone no less, she rejected him. Her reasons being she didn’t want to marry out of convenience, or duty, but for love above all else. A kingdom cannot thrive without love, after all.

Also, despite her excellent judge of character, and knowing that Rauru’s intentions were pure, more than anything she wanted him to understand his own reasoning for wanting to marry her, as well as to be aware that she’s her own person, and just because he is Zonai does not mean he can have whatever he wants all the time. (Referring to the previous headcanon, he may not like being treated as a god, but he’s used to it. It’s important to remember that, even in fiction, people are complicated.)

Sad, but wishing to understand and consider Sonia’s words, Rauru was going to let her keep the Secret Stone, but she gave it back to him. Their friendship continued to grow from there, and the next time Rauru asked for her hand in marriage, having grown as a person himself, Sonia accepted.

• Rauru doesn’t enjoy being called cute. It embarrasses him a lot, actually. By adulthood he’d decided it’s a waste of time to try and protest (he’ll always be Mineru’s cute baby brother) but he tries his best to ignore those comments.

• Mineru used to call him “Ru” or “Ruru” when they were young. He absolutely hated it.

• Mineru was very small as a baby. Even as a child she remained short, and when Rauru was born she was delighted at the prospect of being a BIG sister. Her joy was relatively short-lived however, as by age 10 Rauru had already grown taller than her. Although she’s taller than any Hylian, of course, Mineru is still short by Zonai standards. It doesn’t bother her anymore.

• We know that Rauru would often sneak away to hunt in favor of his duties as King, but I like to think it was not animals he was hunting, but monsters. He loved a thrilling fight.

• Rauru’s earrings are all clip-ons. By his own admission his ears are way too sensitive to endure being pierced ten times! In fact, because Zonai ears are one of their most sensitive parts, clip-on earrings were very common for others as well.

• Mineru learned all about Zelda’s friends from their time together, but nothing could have prepared her for meeting Purah 10k+ years later. Despite Mineru knowing she didn’t have much time left after Ganondorf was defeated, she enlisted Purah’s help in building a flying machine big enough to carry everyone up to Great Sky Island. The two bonded fast—maybe even faster than Mineru bonded with Zelda. Had things been different they might have even shared a romance… alas, as she often had to remind people in the present day, “I am only a spirit.”

Purah still thinks about her often.

- - -

footnote: I left politics out of this post to keep things neutral so these could apply either way. I have my own opinions on Rauru’s leadership, but that’s for another time. :)

[ivanttakethis]

Tov Cassio - Modern AU

- Tov was adopted by Cassio when she was about 2 years old.

- She still has her heart issues and is chronically ill. Luckily, Cassio had the means to get her better care.

- Cassio is a famous runway model turned high fashion designer with a fashion house called Cassiopeia.

- Also similar to canon, Cassio initially adopted Tov as an “accessory” (think like some famous celebrities), and then quickly figured out that raising a child — especially one with health concerns — is hard. They don’t want more kids after her, which is perfectly fine with Tov.

- Tov’s last name is Cassio, and Cassio dropped their first name when they became a well-known model. Tov actually doesn’t know what Cassio’s first name is/was.

- Tov and Cassio have a better relationship in this AU than in canon, but it’s far from perfect. Sometimes Tov feels like she has to parent Cassio instead of the other way around.

- Like her guardian before her, Tov is a fashion model.

- As soon as Tov was old enough to walk and listen to directions, she started modeling and walking in fashion shows with Cassio.

- Known in the industry for her “resting bitch face”, but it’s considered a positive attribute for walking runways.

Rando: “I thought models were supposed to smile.”

Tov, completely deadpan: “Not the ones at my level.”

- She doesn’t tell people what she does for work. Not because she wants to keep it a secret, but she just doesn’t volunteer information about her life if you don’t ask her directly.

- Most of her classmates don’t know Tov models until a billboard with her face on it pops up downtown. People promptly lose their minds.

- Talks about going to places like Milan, Paris, and Tokyo the same way she talks about the weather.

- Usually dressed in “quiet luxury”. She incorporates her beloved star motif however she can; earrings, necklaces, rings, all real gold and silver.

- Cassio got Tov’s ears pierced when she was a toddler. She was pretty chill for the procedure.

- Rarely if ever wears flat shoes. She loves platform boots and wedges.

- Big fan of fantasy novels; put off by the whole genre of sci-fi (ironic).

- Owns several expensive telescopes to view the night sky and the stars. Don’t ask her to hang out on a meteor shower night. She will not come.

- Tov is very independent and self-sufficient. She knows how to cook, do laundry, and other household chores.

- Doesn’t have a driver’s license.

- She’s a homebody. If she needs to go somewhere, she gets one of her friends to take her.

- The type of person to leave a party when they get bored, but also won’t tell anyone that they’re leaving.

- Cats are drawn to her. She does not know why. May become a victim of the cat distribution system.

- Friends: Himei, Tallis, Nyx, Moran, Dian, Solei, Aurien, and Flor

- Acquaintances/Friends of Friends: Lang, Castor, Stasya, Kyo, and Cirrus

- One-Sided Fondness: Azure

- Don’t Like Her Vibe But I Understand Her: Daiki

[usafphantom2]

USAF crew faulted for Ellsworth B-1B crash

Ryan Finnerty26 July 2024

US Air Force investigators blame crew error for a January crash that saw the destruction of a Boeing B-1B Lancer strategic bomber.

The January 2024 incident occurred during a training flight from the aircraft’s (85-0085) home station of Ellsworth AFB in South Dakota. While attempting to make a night landing during poor weather conditions, the aircraft undershot the runway forcing a rare quadruple ejection of the B-1B’s crew.

B-1B crash

All four aviators survived, but the $450 million dollar jet bomber was deemed a total loss after skidding across the airfield and catching fire.

The lead investigator in the accident probe now says many of the factors that led to the catastrophic mishap are likely to be repeated.

In a report Colonel Erick Lord said the inquiry found that “many failures leading to this mishap were not a one-time occurrence or an aberration”.

The crew’s failure to conduct a composite crosscheck during the approach was seen as the primary cause of the accident.

“The mission crew did not follow the low-visibility approach to land communication and flying responsibilities,” the report states.

The mishap pilot apparently failed to brief the remaining crew on the expected vertical velocity during the approach, which prevented weapon systems officers from performing an adequate crosscheck. The pilot also descended below 200ft above ground level without approval from the onboard instructor pilot.

“The mishap pilot did not effectively crosscheck the airspeed, descent rate, and projected aircraft flight path leading up to the mishap,” investigators conclude.

“By failing to crosscheck using his instruments effectively, the mishap pilot did not recognise the [aircraft’s] deviations from the desired airspeed, descent rate and aircraft flight path.”

Deteriorating weather conditions during the winter training flight had forced the B-1B crew to cut the sortie short and attempt an instrument landing on a different runway than originally planned. The landing occurred during night hours with visibility even further reduced by dense fog in the local area, which investigators say exacerbated the Lancer crew’s deviation from established policy.

A ground-based flight supervisor also improperly directed the B-1B pilot to land on a runway that lacked adequate weather observation – violating a Notice to Airmen alert issued over the impaired visibility.

Investigators describe “undisciplined procedures” employed by the ground-based flight supervisors, including insufficient shift changeover and individual failure to review applicable airfield hazards, that resulted in the mishap B-1B making a dangerous and unauthorised approach.

As a result, the aircraft rapidly descended below its authorised altitude and impacted the ground before its intended landing zone.

While Lord notes that bad weather “substantially contributed” to the crash, he says a “culture of noncompliance and widespread deviation from established policy” amongst bomber crews within the B-1B squadron created the potential for such an incident.

“I find by a preponderance of the evidence that these leadership and climate issues directly contributed to the mishap,” he says in the investigation report.

He notes a failure by squadron leadership to conduct adequate supervision of flight operations and a lack of effective communication regarding airfield and weather conditions as examples of the poor safety culture at the 34th Bomb Squadron.

The investigation board also found an “unsatisfactory level of basic airmanship” within the Lancer squadron’s flight crews.

As further evidence of this, investigators note that the lead instructor pilot onboard the mishap aircraft apparently exceeded the maximum approved weight for the B-1B’s Collins Aerospace ACES II ejection seat, which is rated for 111kg (245lb) according to the USAF.

That individual apparently suffered more severe injuries during the ejection than the rest of the crew, according to the investigation report.

The B-1B ejection system is typically set so that an ejection initiated by one crew member triggers a rapidly sequenced firing of the remaining seats. This procedure is meant to prevent a collision between crew members.

Ryan FinnertyRyan Finnerty is the Americas defence reporter for FlightGlobal.com and Flight International magazine, covering military aviation and the defence industry. He is a former United States Army officer and previously reported for America’s National Public Radio system in New York and Hawaii covering energy, economics and military affairs.View full Profile

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