#so they were transported there at different places and intervals in time? since it’s by two different methods

[unknownarmageddon]

Here is the basic plot idea, in a multiverse where Killer and Cross were dating and somehow ended up in the Pokémon world with little to no memory of who they were, Legends Arceus style where villagers blame them for things that they have nothing to do with for a period of time, also they would likely get along with Orgepon. (Unrelated but I think kid XChara looks like Orgepon.)

In Pokémon Sun and Moon there are a thing called Ultra Wormhole which are...wormholes, thus I think that would be how Cross would arrive somewhere in the Pokémon world, preferably Kalos, Hoenn, Sinnoh, or Unova.

I'd like to imagine that as an opposite to XGaster in a sense, Cross would either be in the military of one of the regions with the mission of taking down evil organizations and/or teams because he is a skilled and professionally trained fighter, plus he is immune to many common causes of death. Can a skeleton drown? No. Can a skeleton die of heat stoke? No. Can a skeleton freeze to death? No. Can a skeleton get electrocuted to death? No.

But...I'd say it'd be interesting if Killer was brought to Paldea (Area Zero specifically) by Terapagos as it was seen in-game that it can do so temporarily. And yes, Killer would definitely have a Sprigatito as his starter Pokémon.

I would love to see Killer being embedded with Terastal energy as an explanation for why Cross is having trouble cuddling him even in positions where he doesn't have to worry about touching Killer's soul.

OHHHHH ohhh i love this actually this rules holy shit

[ghostaholics]

I’m laughing so hard with the enemies with benefits trope, it’s the only thing keeping me sane right now.What if she gets badly hurt during a mission, and ends up unconscious for days, and Ghost stays by her side waiting for her to wake up and when she does, instead of a heartwarming conversation they instantly start to insult each other

The amount of time it took for them to stabilize her had been... long.

Too long.

So long, in fact that they'd had to resuscitate her twice during transport and somewhere in between their (inadequate, by his standards) attempts at life-saving measures and him taking over compressions (he'd bullied his way onto the carrier, of course, much to the displeasure of the rest of the medical flight personnel and was the only one willing to continue even after they'd seriously considered calling the time of death), there was a brief moment where he'd really thought she wasn't going to make it. And for exactly 34 minutes, he'd kept thinking to himself what a goddamn shame it'd be to lose her (not for himself, but for the 1-4-1, the good of the team, obviously). Except then they'd found her pulse again, faint and barely hanging on just under skin, albeit still there – thank-fucking-Jesus – and Simon had finally allowed himself to let out a sigh of breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding the entire time.

It's been about 72 hours since she was initially transferred to the trauma center by helo (or 71 hours and 53 minutes if he wants to get really technical, not that he’s keeping track). This surly, hulking beast of a man managed to fold himself into that tiny hospital chair – has a damn crick in his neck now, stiffness in his muscles from that pathetic excuse of a recliner. And he's had to camp out as a sniper for lengthy intervals before, slept on the ground or up against a fucking tree depending on the situation without complaint, so this should be any different, but he's had to shift positions frequently just to take the edge off because it's bothering him that much; Christ, the things he does for her.

And after waiting all this damn time, he's finally rewarded with some evidence of actual consciousness – the too-thin, threadbare hospital sheets stirring with movement out of the corner of his eye. Simon rises from his seat, completely neglecting his lunch (hadn't even really been able to eat properly until recently, because his appetite was pretty much shite after the whole cardiac arrest thing) and strides over to check on whether or not she's waking up.

She blinks, groggily, eyes adjusting to her surroundings and trying to place where exactly she is before a shadow passes over her line of vision and blocks the annoying fluorescent lights. It’s – oh.

Simon's face comes into view, peering down at her with an expression that she doesn’t quite recognize. This one’s new; she doesn’t have a name for it, but if she were to hazard a guess, it seems an awful lot like concern – or at least his version of whatever that may be. She watches him quietly. Her gaze isn’t as disoriented anymore and she tracks his hand, the way it comes up to cup her jaw, warm palm sliding over her skin in an invitation to lean into his touch.

“Really glad you woke up,��� he murmurs, low but still loud enough to be heard over the rhythmic beeping of the bedside monitor. And Simon, being Simon, doesn't forget to add, “There's so many reports I've been waiting for you to sign off on.”

She closes her eyes with a small smile gracing her lips. Her voice is rough from disuse, but the sarcasm behind it is a familiar sound. “Wish I'd been out for longer. Was nice not having you nag my ear off – best damn sleep I've gotten in ages, y'know.”

[leapingbadger]

Safe

Summary: It’s finally time to return Jax to his family after his ordeal on Tantis and time on Pabu. But as usual, things don’t go to plan.

Read on AO3

Notes: This follows my general head canon.  You don’t have to read any of the other stuff I have written to understand what is going on but Tested ties directly into this story. If interested you can also check out some of my other stories at these links: Hope; Sunrise; Sunset, Goodbye and Tattoo

Word Count: 4697 (sorry, it's a long one)

***

It had taken a while to get to this point, but Hunter was still nervous. Rex had heard from Ventress and Vos and they were ready to get Jax and his family back together. They thought it best that they do this with one kid at a time in an effort to draw less attention.

With his family extracted and at a safe house, Hunter and Omega were tasked with transporting Jax. Crosshair had been less than enthusiastic about missing out on yet another mission, but until he had a permanent prosthetic, he wasn’t capable a wielding a weapon properly. Wrecker also grumbled at the plan, but he stood out way too much for a covert mission.

“And you don’t?” he had barked at Hunter, pointing at his tattoo.

Hunter had been thinking about it for a while but Wrecker’s indignation made him act on it. He had grown a beard as a way to try and hide his most prominent feature. The dark hair covered enough of his tattoo to soften the appearance of the skull’s mouth, leaving the top part of the tattoo passing for a strange birth mark. It was unlikely that the empire was still looking for them, but it didn’t make sense to make things too obvious. His new helmet would also help with that. It lacked the distinctive design he had had since the war, and for this one mission he was thankful for it.

Jax and the other Tantis kids had had a long, sad goodbye. They didn’t have the comfort of knowing they would see each other again. They didn’t know if they’d be able to stay in touch. These siblings, forged in fire and trial may never meet again, and they all knew it, well…maybe except Behrn.

Hunter watched sadly as Jax turned from the farewell party and boarded the ship. He brushed hurriedly at his green cheek and slunk up the ship’s ramp. Omega put her hand to his back in comfort and he nodded appreciatively.

Hunter hung back and said yet another goodbye to his brothers. It was rare for them to take on missions alone, but it seemed to be all he was doing since Pabu had become their permanent home. At this point it was routine, but they still said the same things anyway, it was comforting in a way.

“Comm us if you need us,” Wrecker said after squeezing Hunter into a hug. Hunter nodded obediently.

“Watch out for her. You know what she’s like,” Crosshair said, eyebrow arched, eyes on Omega.

“Yeah, I do.” Hunter said with a sigh, “I will.”

He really hadn’t wanted to take Omega along but there was only so much resistance against their kid’s strong will. She had made some excellent points, pacing the floor in their small common room.

“Jax will need comfort. You know I’m better at that than you, Huntah. He needs me with him.” She had said, foot stomping in place. Hunter was reminded of their first mission together on a desolate moon long ago. She had refused to be left behind then too.

After the third go around, Hunter had relented and as much as he was concerned for her safety, as he always was, he was glad to have the company. She was right, comfort wasn’t his strong suit in most cases.

He waved at his brothers from the ship’s ramp with promises to check in at regular intervals. He took one last deep breath of the salty, sweet, Pabu air and walked onto the ship, the door hissing and closing with a clang behind him.

***

Hunter, Omega and Jax sat in the back of the ship. Echo was on a different mission and none of them, nor their pilot were interested in small talk. Hunter could see the familiar blue swirls of hyperspace from where he sat. Omega was opposite him, Jax asleep with his head on her shoulder. They were taking multiple jumps just in case there were any designs on following them. You never know with the empire.

“You okay?” Hunter asked Omega with a whisper.

She nodded her head and smiled in answer. She wore her old jacket and hat but it didn’t fit her like before, the sleeves were too short and the hat sat at an odd angle because of her ponytail.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been off world,” he said quietly.

She nodded again, gave a concerned look at Jax as he stirred and spoke in a soft voice only after he settled.

“I’m kind of looking forward to it. Pabu’s wonderful, but this was part of my life for so long. It’s nice to be amongst the stars again,”

Hunter smiled and nodded. He felt the same way. He’d spent most of his life flying around the galaxy with his brothers. Being planet bound, no matter how beautiful, felt unnatural in many ways.

The ship rumbled as they came out of hyperspace. Hunter didn’t have much intel on who was meeting them but knew Rex and Vos had arranged for someone to take Jax for the next part of his journey. Hunter wasn’t happy about not seeing him to his final destination, but Rex had assured him it was for Jax and his family’s safety and Hunter was trying to be okay it.

He gave his thanks to their pilot as they exited the ship into a back world space port. Muffled announcements rang overhead as he guided the two kids through various hangers to a cantina on the outskirts.

“We have to go in there?” Jax asked nervously.

“It’ll be okay, I practically grew up in a place like this,” Omega said reassuringly taking his hand.

Hunter led them down the uneven steps into the dark space. Pink and blue neon lights shone and reflected off the shining metal surface of the bar. Music thumped from a juke box in the corner, the beat making the bottles behind the bar rattle.

“Stay close,” Hunter instructed, and he made his way over the bar, taking in his surroundings. The cantina wasn’t full by any means. A Rodian was draped over the bar on his right, head on the metal bar, bottle in hand. A mon calamari couple argued loudly on a booth, something about gambled tickets.

Hunter froze when he saw her. In the far corner booth, boot propped up on the table, black and orange helmet at her side sat Fennec Shand. Hunter instinctively pushed Omega and Jax behind him.

She had spotted him too and raised her fingers lazily in greeting with a lopsided smile on her lips.

Hunter swore under his breath and Omega looked up startled.

“What is it?”

“Shand,” he said quickly. He looked at the entrance they had come in. A large party of patrons had entered after them, blocking the exit.

Shand had sat up straighter now, eyes wide and on Omega.

“Head for the exit, I’ll cover you,” Hunter whispered to Omega. She didn’t hesitate to follow his order. She threw her arm around Jax and led him back the way they had come.

Hunter walked backwards slowly, hand resting on his blaster.

Shand was up now, walking towards him. She left her helmet at the table, her long black hair, braided with thick orange cord trailed over her shoulder. Her hands were up and facing him, not resting on her blaster like he had expected.

She had crossed half the distance between them now, Hunter shifted again, trying to hide Omega and Jax from view as they made it to the stairs.

“It’s been a while, Tracker,” She said in a smooth voice, “Hi, Omega,” she called over his shoulder.

Hunter drew his blaster, aiming it directly between her eyes. She didn’t flinch or move, but a smile crossed her lips, and he didn’t like it.

“Nice to see you too,” She said with grin, “Ventress sent me.” she said calmly.

Hunter paused. His blaster was still raised but he relaxed his stance slightly.

“Didn’t think bounty hunters worked for noble causes,” he growled.

Fennec shrugged, crossed over to the bar and grabbed the bottle out of the now passed out Rodian’s hand, “friendship makes the galaxy go ‘round,” she said, knocking back the last of the bottle and gently placing it back on the bar.

Hunter gave a quick glance at Omega and Jax. They were three steps up the stairs, Jax pulling at Omega’s arm while she crouched, energy bow primed (Echo had come across a few Zygerian’s and had…liberated it). Good girl, Hunter thought.

“I told Ventress you wouldn’t trust me.”

“Why would I?” he said again, his blaster still pointed directly at her. The other patrons hadn’t noticed or simply didn’t care. Most skirted around them to get to the bar. The music thumped loudly in Hunter’s ears.

“I came through with the Intel, didn’t I?”

“You sent a Sith assassin to find us,” said incredulously.

Fennec shrugged again. “Former Sith assassin. And did you or did you not find out that you wanted to know?”

Hunter huffed but didn’t respond. This wasn’t getting them anywhere.

“So, I’m supposed to just give you the kid and trust that you’re taking him where he needs to go?” he finally lowered his blaster and jerking his head to Omega who obediently came over, a nervous looking Jax in tow.

Fennec smiled, “that’s about it, yeah.”

Hunter took off his helmet and cupped it under his left arm. He kept his blaster in his right hand, just in case. He hated talking to bounty hunters. Everything was double talk.

“Omega, look at you,” Fennec said, sounding like a proud aunt. “nice energy bow,” she said with a wink.

Omega glared at her but didn’t speak.

“I’m glad you found you way back to each other.” Fennec said sincerely, turning and walking back to her table.

Hunter and Omega exchanged a confused look and followed. Hunter rested his hand on Jax’ shoulder, “it’s going to be okay. You’re safe,” he said, trying to force himself to believe it. Jax looked up at him and gave what Hunter thought was a half-smile at best. He supposed it was better than nothing.

They slid into the opposite side of the booth, Jax in between Omega and Hunter. He nervously played with the fastener on his jacket.

“I’m not just giving him to you,” Hunter said gruffly, before she could talk.

“Then this is going to be a short visit,” she replied, her eyes narrowed.

“What if we come with you?” Omega interjected leaning over the table looking between Hunter and Fennec.

Fennec paused for a minute looking from Jax to Omega and finally rested on Hunter.

“I suppose that could work,” she said smoothly, “I’m not one for babysitting duty anyway,” she looked at Omega and Hunter scowled at her. He heard his kids trembling voice after her first and second encounters with the bounty hunter. “What do you think, Tracker?” she said calmly, a teasing tone in her voice.

“It’s Hunter,” he said gruffly. He hated nick names. He looked at Omega and then Jax, who looked like he was holding it together by a thread. He couldn’t leave this kid with Fennec Shand, even if this was not the plan. “Fine,” he said finally.

“Great,” Shand said, hopping up from the booth, “let’s get going,”

She shoved her helmet on her head and strode out of the door. Hunter, Omega and Jax followed.

“Do you think we can trust her?” Omega asked Hunter, out of earshot of Jax.

Hunter scowled, “Not sure. Keep your guard up and your weapon ready,”

Omega nodded.

***

Hunter looked up at Fennec Shan’s ship in the hanger, the black and orange paint peeling away. He had told himself last time he would never set foot on this particular ship again but here he was.

Hunter had sent a hastily prepared message to Rex, Crosshair and Wrecker letting them know the change of plans. He hadn’t heard back and didn’t expect to before they took off, but at least they knew who they were with.

Shand lowered the ramp and Hunter hesitated for a second before following her aboard. He heard Omega and Jax’ footsteps behind him and waited at the top of the ramp to usher them onboard. He noticed omega looking wearily at the number of ray shield protected cages as they walked thorough the hold. No doubt thinking of the first time they met Shand and the fact that this is where she would have ended up had they not been able to evade her on Pantora.

“You okay, Kid,” he whispered gently, as they continued to follow Fennec through the massive ship.

“Yeah, just…thinking,” she said introspectively.

Hunter nodded and rested his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way. They climbed a set of steep steps up to the cockpit. Shand disappeared behind the sliding door and Hunter indicated for Jax and Omega to take the seats outside. There were only two, he supposed bounty hunting didn’t lead to friends or the need for extra seats.

Hunter propped himself against the door, still holding his helmet under his arm. He felt the rumble as they took off and blasted out of the planet’s atmosphere. He heard Shand’s chair swivel and braced as he heard her boots on the deck.

The doors slid open with a swoosh. It was tight proximity in the space, so much so that Hunter backed up to the top of the stairs to put a gap between him and Shand.

“We’ll make a couple of jumps, just to be safe,” she said, parroting what their other pilot had told him. He had trusted the clone though, Shand, not so much.

“Where are we going?” he asked

“That’s need to know,”

“I agree,” Hunter said doggedly. Why Rex hadn’t told him to expect a bounty hunter he didn’t know. He should have been aware of their previous run ins with Shand. Even if Echo only mentioned them in passing. Either Rex wasn’t aware, or Ventress was lying to him.

Hunter looked down at Jax, he was huddled in on himself, clearly scared. Perhaps reliving the horror of being stolen from his family those many months, possibly years ago. They really had no idea how long the kids had been kept on Tantis. Hunter nodded to Shand and stepped over the threshold to the cockpit.

She followed quickly, the door closing behind her.

“This kid’s been through a lot. I need to make sure he gets to his family in one piece.” Hunter whispered.

“That’s why I’m here,” Fennec said.

Hunter studied her face. He reached out with his senses as though he was trying to read her mind. Trust was so hard to gain. In this galaxy, everyone was out for themselves.

“How much are they paying you for this job?

“That’s a pretty personal question there, Hunter,” she said slyly.

Hunter sighed, a long, exasperated sigh. “Bounty hunters are only out for themselves. You’ve gotta be making something off this deal to make it worth your while. You’re not altruistic and you’re not above kidnapping children.” He added pointedly.

“Money’s not everything.” she said with a smile, throwing his own words back at him.

“It is to people like you” he growled back.

“The galaxy is a dangerous place. Having a ‘former Sith assassin’ as an ally is priceless as far as I’m concerned.” She stepped closer to Hunter than he was comfortable with and looked up at him, “I’m taking the kid to safety as promised. I’ll make more than enough money on my next bounty to make up for it.”

She reached her hand up to his face, but he caught her wrist and glowered at her. She raised her eyebrows and smiled, “loving the beard.” She said before he let her go. She gave him a look over her shoulder and walked out in the corridor with a whoosh of the door.

What is wrong with these women, Hunter thought. He followed her out and gave Omega a reassuring nod when he returned. Shand had gone down the narrow steps into the bowels of the ship.

“I think she likes you,” Omega said in her usual cheery voice.

“Omega, don’t,” he said warningly.

She smiled up at him, that knowing smile. He ran his hand through his hair. This really was the longest day and it had only just begun.

***

Hunter started as the ship shook. Omega and Jax were both gasping as they awoke to the flickering lights above them and the ship listing to the side.

“what’s going on, Shand?” Hunter called

“Relax, just some rough air,” she called calmly from the cockpit. Hunter raised an eyebrow and went to look for himself.  He heard Omega rise too and let her follow.

They were cutting through the sky of an unremarkable looking planet. There didn’t seem to be any cities to speak of as far as Hunter could see. Clusters of tall, dark green trees swerved in and out of view as Shand moved the ship this way and that. This was not the smooth, if a little eccentric, flying Hunter was used to. Even Phee was a steadier pilot.

She landed on a circle of dirt that looked like it had once been grass. Shand swiveled in her chair and grabbed her helmet from the shelf.

“We better move if we want to make it by nightfall,” she said coolly.

Hunter and Omega followed her out of the cockpit, picking up Jax as they exited the ship. The temperature was cooler than expected. Omega zipped her jacket up to her chin and pulled her hat over her ears. He noticed Jax pull his jacket tighter around him and fished in his backpack for something.

“Here,” he said, handing him a red scarf with thin, white lines. Jax smiled up at him.

“Thanks, Hunter.” He said, quickly wrapping the scarf around his neck.

Hunter adjusted his pack and followed Fennec across the landing pad, as it was, and through the small village. The smell of roasting meat and cooked vegetables wafted out of a tavern on their left. Hunter’s stomach grumbled and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything since they left. He pulled out ration sticks for the kids and smiled as they inhaled them hungrily.

“You kids doing okay?” he asked, dropping slowly behind Shand so she wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation.

“Yes,” they both replied in unison.

“Are we almost there?” Jax asked, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket.

“It’s just passed the other side of the village,” Shand called back.

Omega and Jax looked at Hunter who nodded reassuringly. They continued the walk in silence. The wind started to whip up as they left the safety and warmth of the village. They followed a dirt track up a small hill, through a enclave of impossibly tall, green trees. Hunter hadn’t realized how big they were from the air.

Jax started to look nervous again and Hunter noticed Omega instinctively put her arm around his shoulders. He smiled up at her and whispered “thanks, Sis.” Omega smiled back at him.

Hunter noticed Fennec watching the exchange and sank back so she was in lock step with Hunter.

“She’s a pretty remarkable kid,” Fennec said quietly as the kids continued on in front.

Hunter nodded but didn’t engage.

“It takes a special kid to inspire such…loyalty,” she continued.

Hunter stopped and looked at her. She paused too. “You even think about trying to take her again I’ll kill you where you stand,” he said, his voice deep and threatening as it had ever been.

She cocked her head to the side and smiled, “I believe you, but I’m not interested in being a babysitter, remember? I just meant that there’s something about her. She even got to me. Offered me a spot on your squad when we first met,”

Hunter laughed despite himself, “of course she did,” he said, thinking back to that sweet, innocent and hopelessly naive version of Omega they first took off Kamino.

“I have to admit I was a little tempted. She certainly had Nala Se wrapped around her finger too,” she said, glancing up at him.

Hunter stopped again, eyes narrowed, “Nala Se hired you?”

Fennec raised her eyebrows and shrugged, “she called me off, once she realized she was safe with you.”

Hunter looked down, trying to organize these thoughts in his mind.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked. He noticed Omega and Jax had paused ahead, watching their conversation with interest.

“If we’re both working for the path we need to trust each other. I figured this was the quickest way to get there.”  She started walking but turned around to watch him, “besides, what does it matter now that Nala Se is dead and the Kaminoan’s are gone,” She shrugged and caught up with the kids. Hunter jogged to follow.

The path curled around and opened up to a small wooden house. Hunter noticed Jax stop dead, fear in his eyes.

“Jax, it’s okay,” Hunter said gently. Omega took hold of his right hand and led him forward.

“Are you sure it’s them?” he asked Hunter.

“it’s them,” Fennec supplied.

Brown paint was peeling off the door. Hunter reached out with his senses. There was nothing that would indicate a dangerous situation. He kept his hand on his blaster, just in case.

Shand knocked on the door and to Hunter’s surprise, Ventress answered. Her chin length hair was still cut in the same sharp bob at her chin. She nodded in greeting and stepped back to let them in.

The cabin was warm, a stove on the far wall roared to life and to the far left, gathered around an old table was what could only be Jax’ family.

All hesitation in him melted away as he sprinted to the other side of the room and threw his arms around a green skinned women in a blue dress. His mother buried her head into his neck and Hunter knew she was drinking in the scent of him. Sometimes your eyes can lie to you, but your nose never can.

Hunter felt awkward, like he was intruding into a private moment. He noticed Ventress and Fennec sneak out of the door, mumbling quietly to each other. He gently touched Omega’s shoulder and indicated for her to follow him.

He looked back at the family reunion. Jax had now moved on to his father whose arms were wrapped around him, quiet sobs coming from him. Perhaps they didn’t think this moment would come. Jax had a few siblings to work his way through as well. It was best they wait outside.

Omega smiled up at him as he leaned against the exterior of the cabin. Fennec and Ventress had walked further to the tree line. He kept a close eye on them, his enhanced hearing picking up most of their conversation. He was pleased to know there was nothing duplicitous, just two friends catching up.

Ventress noticed them and walked over.

“Omega,” she said with a fond nod, “…Hunter…” she said trepidatiously as if not sure she was correct.

He nodded confirmation and her eyes traveled back to Omega.

“This is an unexpected surprise. Any changes, Omega?” she asked

“No,” Omega said confidently.

“And you?” she asked Hunter. Last time they spoke she implied he might be force sensitive. Hunter just shook his head at her. He had no interest one way or the other.

Fennec crossed to the group, “I told you he wouldn’t trust me,” she said with a smirk.

“Trust is earned,” Hunter retorted.

“And now? Ventress asked, stepping in front of Fennec as though shielding her.

Hunter shrugged, “for now,” he said simply. He wasn’t really comfortable with any of this, but if this was the situation they were in, and it seem like they were part of the path whether they liked it or not, he at least have to be civil.

The latch on the door clanked and Jax wrenched the door open. He was followed by his mother, father, brother and two sisters.

Hunter had never seen him look so joyous, although given the circumstances that wasn’t a huge surprise.

His mother threw herself at Hunter, arms around his neck sobs falling onto his pauldron. “I can’t thank you enough,” she sobbed. Hunter was taken aback. He looked down at Omega who was grinning ear to ear.

“Omega is actually the one who saved him. We just kept him out of trouble until we found you.”

The mother enveloped Omega, a fresh round of sobs rang out. Ventress and Fennec had stepped back to the tree line.

Jax came over and offered the scarf to Hunter. “You keep it,” he said with a smile. Jax nodded and  held out his hand. Hunter took it and pulled the young boy into a hug. “Take care of yourself,” he said ruffling his hair. “we’ll miss you.”

Jax wiped a tear away and moved to where his mother was finally letting Omega go. Hunter looked on with pride as the two former prisoners, hostages, kids, hugged each other for the last time.

“Goodbye, Sis,” Jax said, tears freely streaming down his face. “Thank you for saving me,”

Omega smiled and nodded, silent tears tracing tracks down her cheeks. It took a few more hugs, handshakes and tears before Hunter could extricate them.

Hunter, Omega and Fennec walked back to her ship in relative silence. Ventress stayed behind, just in case any trouble showed up although Hunter couldn’t imagine it would in a place like this.

The ride back to Pabu was uneventful. Fennec dropped them at the space port where she had met them. The ship landed with a jolt.

Fennec spun around in her chair in the cockpit.

“And here we all are. You’re all in one piece, as promised.” She said smugly, “Shame I didn’t get to see you in action with that bow, Kid,” she said to Omega as she stood up.

“Maybe next time,” Omega said with a smile, as she made her way to the narrow staircase and down to the cargo hold below.

“Wait,” Hunter said suddenly, “you have to wipe the navcomputer,”

“Why?” Fennec asked, eyebrow raised.

“what’s the bounty on Jedi these days? Why don’t you humor me?” He stepped closer, ensuring she wouldn’t be able to leave the cockpit, unless she wanted to shoot him of course. This thought tingled in the back of his mind, but he pushed it away. This was important.

“Fine,” she said cooly. He watched her delete the data and he nodded, satisfied. Hunter followed Omega down and out of the ship. Fennec trailed after them, Perhaps to make sure they got out, Hunter thought.

Omega waived energetically at the bounty hunter; all concern about her seemingly forgotten. Hunter’s memory wasn’t that short though.

“So, I guess I’ll be seeing you around,” she said to Hunter, “we’re both part of the path after all.

“We’ll see,” he said gruffly.

“Looking forward to it,” she called after him. He didn’t turn around.

He jogged to catch up with Omega who had spotted their ride home.

“I think she likes you, Huntah,” she said with a giggle.

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose, “Omega, she literally tried to kidnap you twice,” he said exasperated.

“Maybe if you have a girlfriend, you wouldn’t spend so much time worrying about the rest of us,”

Hunter rolled his eyes as Omega took his arm and interlocked it with hers.

“I’m pretty sure worrying about you is my life’s purpose, kid.”

She giggled and nudged him with her shoulder, “Then I better not make it too easy for you,” she said.

Hunter laughed as they climbed abroad Rex’s ship. They were all safe and headed home. What more could he ask for.

[ramuneempiremtl]

Slave-kun’s Happy Life in Another World: Chapter 37

Departing from Sansa, we ambled along the highway, a road frequented by carriages and travelers.

For a while, the path continued through plains. Scattered here and there were groves and villages, with a large forest visible in the distance.

The highway seemed to circumvent the forest. Rest areas were set up at intervals. Well-maintained, indeed.

Even though it was a plain, the scenery was ever-changing and captivating, with tall grass, grassy patches, shrubs, and streams.

Since there were supposedly no dangerous monsters in this area, everyone walked in a relaxed manner, engaging in idle chatter.

The people of this country are incredibly laid-back.

They don't rush, and they don't make others rush. Despite their advanced technology, the only mode of transportation I've seen is carriages, probably because of this.

It might be their perception of time due to their longevity.

Therefore, nobody minds if we proceed at my pace.

Still, because my stride is small, I sometimes have to break into a trot to keep up.

When I felt tired, someone would give me a piggyback ride in turns.

Hmm.

With the stamina of this body, long-distance travel is still tough. It was in tatters until a few days ago.

Unfortunately, I have to accept that. I can't push myself beyond my limits. Worrying won't improve the situation.

More importantly, I need to pay attention to the surrounding scenery.

All the plants have unfamiliar shapes. I'm not knowledgeable about them in the first place, so I can only distinguish between conifers and other miscellaneous plants, but even so, the vegetation is all new to me.

The small birds I occasionally see also have colors, shapes, and calls that I've never seen or heard before.

So many firsts.

There's so much to learn.

We deviated from the highway and proceeded across the plain towards the forest.

After traveling a considerable distance, the group came to a halt.

The sun is directly overhead.

I guess this is where we'll have lunch.

In the shade of a tree, we took out wooden boxes, sat on them, and devoured the sandwiches Aki had made for lunch. Mine was a size smaller than everyone else's. Delicious.

I received my own dedicated wooden box.

I learned for the first time during this morning's shopping that adventurers seem to have a strong attachment to wooden boxes. After much debate involving the entire party about which wooden box I should get, I received a smaller one as a "temporary" measure. The selection of other daily necessities was done haphazardly.

Anything is fine with me. What is it about wooden boxes that makes them so passionate?

They say, "A wooden box is a necessity. It's good for carrying things, sitting on, using as a makeshift desk, and as a footrest."

Indeed, looking around at everyone in the party, each person is sitting on a wooden box of a different shape.

There's the standard type made by layering many thin boards, and the type made from a single board. The handles also vary, with some attached externally and others carved out as holes.

Daine has a really sturdy-looking type made by assembling square lumber. He's quite heavy, so a flimsy wooden box would probably collapse if he sat on it.

I was told to choose a proper one myself when we return to the royal capital. For an adventurer, choosing a wooden box that suits them is equivalent to choosing a partner. Are we really talking about wooden boxes?

While nodding, I thought I'd probably end up using the one I'm using now.

"Remember when we first met Hulk? He didn't have a wooden box. What do you think he was using instead?… A giant turtle shell."

Pfft. Nove looked away, and it was a little funny.

I see. My master used a turtle shell as a wooden box… I can't. It's hilarious.

"I don't know where he got it from, but he ended up sitting on a turtle shell and carrying his luggage in it. It was pretty silly."

"It was convenient!"

"When he went to sell medicinal herbs and hunted game, he put them in the shell and tried to hand it over at the counter. They bought the whole shell, and he cried."

"I didn't cry!"

I just imagined my master carrying a turtle shell on his back. He's like a river monster.

I see. Thanks to his example, I think I understand a little bit about the importance of a wooden box.

I'm going to choose seriously this time.

[autoversemobility]

Benefits of Buying Auto Parts Online

When you were growing up, getting your car was the pinnacle of success, but now it's just another necessity. Maintenance of a car entails inspecting it at set intervals, lubricating moving parts, replacing worn ones, and so on. If you do this, you'll save money on petrol in the long run, and your car will run smoothly for longer.

Years ago, all one had to do was leave their car at the repair shop and return when it was ready. However, the pandemic has altered everything, closing most auto parts stores and leaving you high and dry if you can't find a mechanic to fix your car. How would you decide which auto parts to prioritize in this pandemic scenario? In this case, you can do a web search for the specific auto parts you need to see if they are in stock. You can also consult your vehicle's manufacturer about authorized service centers.

However, since public transport is currently unavailable, most people must use their cars for their daily commutes, and driving is much safer in the current climate. But there's a great answer to this problem that doesn't require you to leave the house; issues indeed have solutions. This article gives you some importance of buy car parts online.

Why buying car parts online can be beneficial?

This article highlights a few advantages of buy car parts online for those comfortable performing auto repairs. Some websites sell manufacturer-guaranteed original replacement components. They are reliable in meeting delivery deadlines, and their prices are reasonable.

• Easy access to retail:

One can shop in the comfort of one's home and leisure. It is possible to save time and effort by viewing multiple websites simultaneously. Consumers can shop at their leisure without leaving the convenience of their own homes. Saving time and effort, you can visit various websites simultaneously. The convenience of buy car parts online means that you always have to stay in your house to get the auto parts you need. You don't have to leave your home during the pandemic to get these components; they are all available online.

Original, genuine components are readily available:

Consumers may only sometimes know whether they get authentic name-brand products when shopping for auto parts. The proprietor might sell inferior auto parts at reduced prices. However, one can find genuine auto parts at reasonable prices online.

• There's more to choose from now:

Online retailers can offer a wider selection of auto parts than their brick-and-mortar counterparts due to fewer restrictions on storefront shelving.

• Find auto parts with less hassle:

It may be challenging to locate the required components all in one place. Finding specific auto parts can be time-consuming and exhausting, requiring you to visit numerous stores. However, searching multiple online stores simultaneously simplifies tracking down the necessary components.

• Ability to shop around

Price comparisons for the same product across different websites are now a breeze. This means you can get high-quality auto parts at cheap prices.

Conclusion

As a result, buy car parts online can not only be more convenient but also more cost-effective. Finding cheap auto parts online is possible, and you can do so safely. So, save money and time by purchasing high-quality auto parts online.

[earaercircular]

What happens to… mattresses?

Until January 2021, discarded mattresses ended up with the bulk of residual waste. This did not provide them with a new life, but they were processed in an incineration plant with energy recovery. By 2025, 65% of all discarded mattresses must be collected selectively and 50% of materials must be reused or recycled. This enables us we emit up to 11,000 tons less C02 annually. We visited MRS Recycling in Westerlo, where we process our mattresses.

For a new mattress, one should go to a bed or mattress store. Once a mattress ends up in the bedroom, the industry loses track of it for a while. If all goes well, this is where you spend most of your time. The industry picks up the thread again as soon as the mattress needs to be replaced.

Since January 2021, old or discarded mattresses can be taken to the municipal recycling park free of charge. There are special collection carts where we can store the mattresses in a dry place. At regular intervals, MRS Recycling[1]  comes to empty the carts and transport everything to Westerlo[2].

Upon arrival at the factory, the mattresses are collected in a large heap. With the help of a small crane, they then end up on the dismantling line. There are workers who manually cut the mattresses open, and depending on the material they are made of, they go to distribution points. And then the real dismantling begins. Anyone who has ever been looking for a new mattress knows that it is easy to get lost in the multitude of materials: springs, pocket springs, memory foam, cold foam, coconut, PU foam,...

All these materials are separated during dismantling, so that each type of material can be recycled. That is why each raw material is prepared distinctively and pressed into large bales. This is all done manually, in order to separate the different materials as optimally as possible. Pocket springs, for example, exist in various versions, each of which has different melting temperatures. So they all have to be separated from each other.

Once everything is pressed into bales, they are ready to be transported to the various processors. And then the released materials are available for new applications.

Wet mattresses are not welcome

To ensure recycling, mattresses must be collected dry and not contaminated. Sometimes on the news fires are mentioned that start spontaneously in waste companies. The combination of pressure, moisture and heat causes a chemical process that can cause a fire. The same can happen with mattresses. A mountain of mattresses waiting to be dismantled can therefore smolder and ignite spontaneously. This process is accelerated if there are wet mattresses in between, that will mould and rot. Apart from the risk of ignition, the industry also wants to recycle as many materials as possible, and that is not possible for public health if they are full of bacteria.

New applications

But what new life do our old mattresses actually get? Depending on the material, various new applications are possible. This can range from soundproofing material, thermal insulation material to dashboards of cars to cow mats and judo mats.

Valu-what? Valumat.

Valumat is the Belgian management body for discarded mattresses. They take over the acceptance obligation from the producers or importers affiliated to them. Every buyer of a mattress pays an environmental contribution, that ends up in a fund. Thanks to this fund, recycling centres can be reimbursed for the collection, transport and processing of discarded mattresses. Retailers who collect discarded mattresses also receive compensation in this way. At the same time, Valumat also reserves an important part of the environmental contribution for investments in research and development of easily dismantled and recyclable mattresses.

Extended producers’ responsibility

For certain waste streams, the law forces the producer or importer to also take back the waste that he has placed on the market. This obligation makes producers responsible and encourages them to make their products more eco-efficient (production with fewer raw materials or with recycled materials) and to design them in a more environmentally friendly way (easier to dismantle and recycle, fewer hazardous substances. [3]

Source

Incovo, Wat gebeurt er met … Matrassen?, in: Afvalkrant, dec 2022,

[1] https://www.mrsrecycling.be/#

[2] Westerlo is a municipality located in the Belgian province of Antwerp. The municipality comprises seven villages. In 2021, Westerlo had a total population of 25,288. The total area is 55.13 km².

[3] Read also: https://at.tumblr.com/earaercircular/recycling-regulatory-framework-and-customers-are/a96gqa6x2wtj

[haikyuu-and-more-haikyuu]

Boku No Hero Academia HC

I just started bnha and I have already come up with hc about our fave characters and fic ideas set during the tournaments and such. I tried to make up quirks or find quirks that I felt matched their personality more. I also have started to speculate what the other teams quirk would be...

Help me....but also, like, tell me if you want more.

Daichi: Can manipulate earth, rocks and materials like that (all forms of regular earth particles to diamonds). He needs to have the materials on hand tho, so he can't create it himself. But eventually he can build enough streaght up to hold up buildings and bridges. 

Suga: Can heal himself. It requires energy, so if its a huge injury, it might drain him too much. He can also drain others of energy until they pass out (and eventually die, but he hasn't done that). The energy he drains, is directly added to his own energy resources. He needs to be in contact with the wounds he want to heal or the person he wants to drain the energy from.  

Asahi: I feel like he would have a strong tail like Ojiro. But he doesn't often use it to defend himself unless he have too. He is usually seen having it resting on his shoulders and often uses it as a make shift chair. It’s hella strong tho. You know your up of an ass whoppin’ when he comes for you. 

Nishinoya: Can run like the wind. He can pretty much run faster than the speed of sound, but not faster than light. Somewhere in between, which is a pretty great interval to be in between. And also use it to jump really high. He is a ball of energy. The faster he runs, the more energy he uses.

Tanaka: Can create lava and likes to make explosive burst of lava to boost his own ego. Daichi often has to contain him to scold him since it can be scary for a passer by and potentially dangerous. 

Ennoshita: Teleprotatiosn. He can make himself teleport up to 50 meters away from staring point in a blink. If he holds a perosn close to him, he can make them transport with him. And can even take one small objects with him. He could potentially transport a car, but that requires a lot of energy and would be dangerous. It’s a quirk that comes in handy, epically when he is about to miss the buss or something. 

Kinoshita: Can transfer himself into someone else mind, but the backside is that he himself become vulnerable to outside attacks. He can do so upto 6 mins at a time, but if he has controlled one person for 2 mins, he need time to gain energy to actually make it to 6 mins the next time. 

Narita: Can communicate with animals of all sorts like Koda, but wouldn't be directly talking to them. He can, but he likes the quiet communications more. Its more of an telepathy thing. Like he can communicate with them when he looks at them and kind of put his own thoughts into theirs. Of course, he establishes trust between him and the animal he wants to communicate with. 

Kageyama: Can make ice. And  a lot of it. Like Todoroki. Ice will start to appear after a lot of quirk use. 

Hinata: Can make flames. And it just energises him furnter. Also like Todoroki other side...His hair still stays the same...but flames will appear on his body. He burnt a lot of clothes when he was little. 

It’s not much to say about Kags or Hinata’s quirk, but they are rivals since they are opposites and want to be better than the other. And they will eventually make each other stringer too...

Tsukishima: Can make roots. He can cut them off from his body if he wants too or generate them back into him. The strenght of them variates of how much energy he puts in himself. Weeds will start to grow out of his hair after a lot of quirk use. He likes to be more on the defence part in battle and strikes when the opportunity comes. 

Yamaguchi: Can make lighting out of his body. It requires a lot to generate huge and powerful ones, so he is still learning. If he has an energy source, like an outlet or something, he could generate bigger and more powerful ones. Can be very dangerous  to use his quirk too much or out of his abilities. It can potentially make him have a heart attack and damage his nerves and tissue-depends on where the lighting is traveling in his body. He will also bruise. 

Yachi: Can make herself disappear and make other objects disappear too. The more massive the object is the more energy she needs to make it invisible. She herself can be invisible for up to 7 minutes at a time. And the things she touches can be invisible from all to 1 minute to a few hours, depending on the size and how strong she is. When she is startled or anxious, she might accidentally make herself disappear. 

Shimizu: Can create and manipulate shadows. The darker it is, the stronger they are. They can wrap around poeple or connect to there shadows and make them unable to move. It tires her out, especially if the person is resisting. 

Takeda: Aizawa No, but he can make poeple freeze in place by looking at them. Same as Aizawa, if he blinks, the quirk doesn't work anyemore. It comes in handy when he needs to keep control over his rowdy student. 

Ukai: Can copy other move against him. But only one at a time and only one time. So if Kags were to make an ice mountain in front of hm, so could he. But he couldn’t manipulate ice like Kags could, only that particular move he saw. 

BONUS+

Miwa: Her hair can grow in different lenghts like she wants it too and she can manipulate it to wrap around others. It’s a great defence mechanism and keeps her opponents away from her. Her opponents, could cut the hair tho...

Saeko: She has a drum with her, and when she hits it while talking to her opponents, she can make them do what she wants. But only when they have given her attentions. Like, she couldn’t just control a random person on the treat, but if that person were to talk or to gain eye contact with her, she could use her quirk on them. 

Akiteru: Like Kei, he can shoot vines out of his body and manipulate them like Kei can. Small flowers will grow out of his hair. 

Natsu: Can make small explosion with using the hydrogen in the air. They are more startling than dangerous. But will eventually become stronger. 

Shimada: Can make clouds. Not a very affective quirk in fighting, but he can make small clouds that can from lighting. He can also make rainy clouds. It takes a lot of energy to make big ones. 

Also, I tried to find a quirk for him that would make it easier for him to still be Tadashi’s teacher. Since he can make clouds that can form lighting, he can teach Tadashi about the fundaments about lightnings and how they are generated. 

Takinoue: Can make manipulate their air around him to make winds and such (like and air bender) Of course, moving a lot of air around requires a lot of energy from him, so he tends to stick to smaller but faster jets of air. It’s a quirk that comes in handy during summer. 

[wbqotd]

What could you do for time or days if people live underground with out a Sun to help with time?

Sorry this one took so long to answer. I hope it’s still relevant to you! My advice is under a cut this time since there was a lot to say.

I think there’s a lot of ways you could take this without breaking readers’ suspension of disbelief. 

When it comes down to it people still need to sleep and eat at fairly regular intervals. Whether or not you have hours or minutes to measure time with, you can still conceptualise time though patterns of sleeping and eating. A ‘day’ could simply be the period of time a person is awake for after a long period of deep sleep. A ‘morning’ can still be the period of time between waking and a midday meal. Likewise, an ‘afternoon’ can be the period of time between the midday meal and the last meal of the day. That’s not to say you have to make three meals a day and eight hours of unbroken sleep the norm. You could have people eat four meals a day and have a siesta in the middle of the day or make segmented sleep and two meals a day the norm. As long as there’s some kind of pattern, you can use it to split time into pieces.

There’s been a number of studies involving sticking people in caves/underground bunkers and seeing what it does to their circadian rhythms and perception of time. It’s been a while (nearly ten years) since I studied the subject so take this with a big pinch of salt but if I remember correctly one of the big studies (Mills, 1974) suggested that most people will adopt a sleep/wake cycle of just over just under 25 hours when left in the dark without any way of measuring time. I’m sceptical about how applicable the results of studies involving isolated individuals or small groups who’ve lived above ground for most of their lives and are used to a 24-hour day are to a whole society of people living underground for generations. And I’m sure there are criticisms to be made about the reliability and validity of these studies. But I wanted to mention it because it’s somewhere to start if you want some science to base this on. 

Of course, on its own, the sleep/eating patterns thing really only works on an individual level. It’s hard to organise a society if your only concept of time is ‘in the morning’ or ‘after lunch’ because even when everyone in a society has a siesta and three meals a day people aren’t going to be doing everything at the same time every day. Such a society could be fun to explore. I imagine people would have to live in small close-knit communities, where everyone you know lives within walking distance and it’s normal to knock on your neighbour’s door if you need something at any time. It’s hard to organise large scale societies without a standardised way of measuring time - imagine trying to run a business or plan a wedding or use public transport without it. Your culture might also  place more empathise on certain events then we do. A baby’s first steps might be more important than reaching a first birthday. Menarche might be the indicator that someone is old enough to drink or get married or enter a legal contract. Perhaps a couple can’t divorce unless they’ve lived in separate dwellings for the length of at least one pregnancy, as opposed to something arbitrary like five years?

If you did want to look into real societies that don’t/didn’t have a calendar/clock system, I’d start by researching the Amondawa people. Again, it’s not a perfect parallel and you’ve got to be very very careful about generalising the ‘findings’ that come (Eurocentric) studies of one group of people to other populations, but it’s something to look into if you’re interested. 

Now, to answer your actual question: You’ve got a couple of different ways of measuring time without the sun. 

Firstly, you could base your measurements of time on natural phenomena. A ‘new year’ could be indicated by something like plants/fungi blooming or fruiting, the mating season of a particular animal, the migration of an animal that lives underground, or an underground lake filling up. 

Here’s an example of how something like this might work: Every spring the sun melts the snow on the surface. Water starts to seep into the ground, slowly at first and then faster as the world above gets warmer. You get lakes and streams and waterfalls in the summer. Until eventually all the snow is gone and the streams begin to dry up and the lakes become more shallow. The new year is marked by the return of the first trickle of water in a particular passageway where some legendary event was rumoured to have taken place aeons ago.  Once there’s water spotted in that passage, planting season begins because it’s not long before the lake will be full and that can be used to water all those fungi your population relies on for food.

If you use a natural event to mark a new year it’s unlikely that it’ll match up exactly to one of our years or that the length of a year will be exactly equal every year. It also leaves a lot of room for something to go wrong, which can be fun from a writer’s perspective because it can create problems for your characters or inspire further world-building.  

Going back to the above example: Imagine this is your system and a volcano went off and covered the Earth with a cloud of ash. The snow doesn’t melt that year. Those underground lakes and passageways don’t fill up. Planting season never comes or perhaps it’s started too late. There’s famine. People turn on each other. Maybe they have to invade another settlement or abandon everything they know for a better life? Or perhaps they run out of safe drinking water before they run out of food? Diseases caused by drinking unsafe water run rampant and kill off most of your population before starvation is an issue…. Things like this can be a part of your plot, but they can also be a part of your backstory or world’s history. If something like that happened previously in your setting it could have changed your fictional society dramatically. Maybe a particular sort of person was blamed for the disaster and that type of person is still persecuted? Maybe your people became more warlike and had to raid other settlements to survive? Maybe efforts were concentrated on developing better irrigation methods? Maybe someone invented a new way of cleaning water? Maybe religious rituals developed in hopes of preventing it from happening again? There’s a lot of ways you take it, whether it happened in the distant past or living memory. 

For measuring smaller units of time you can still use most of the methods we use above ground: water clocks, oil/candle clocks, hourglasses, mechanical clocks, quartz clocks and atomic clocks should all still work. I won’t go into detail about these since this already a long post and it’s easy to find more information about them. But I will say that if you use one of the above types of clocks, the units don’t have to match up to our own. You can create fictional units of time if you want to. But you can also translate those units to existing compatible units of time. I’d personally make the units comparable to our own. E.G. I wouldn’t have a character take a nap, eat a meal and take their pet glow-worm for a walk and then call the time-frame they did it in ‘a minute’ or ‘a month’ (unless some magic was at work) but you could call it an hour even it’s not 3,600 atomic seconds long.

If you get creative, you might even find a way for the above to work for longer periods of time. Imagine a giant hourglass that’s turned seven times a ‘year’ or a ‘week’ to mark which god you should be praying to. Or maybe you’ve got a giant mechanical clock in the centre of the town square that’s been counting down to something and chimes every 42 million heartbeats or so. It’s been there so long that no one can remember it’s original purpose but all those small hands are sure helpful for arranging meetups. 

Lastly, you can create periods of time through artificial means. The obvious method would be through artificial lighting but sound could work too or even something like set communal eating times can help you keep everyone on a similar schedule. For example, you could dim a large outdoor light for so many hours a day Or you could cut off power completely encourage people to sleep during those hours. You could even have a large city with limited power light up half the city for 13 or so hours while the other half is in darkness and then redirect the power supply so it’s the other way around for the next 13 hours. It could be a lot of fun writing something set in place where you can walk from day to night at will. 

I hope that’s given you something to work with. Good luck with your project! 

[ephemerlskies]

the beauty of after | pjm

⇢ pairing: jimin x f reader

[other members - taehyung]

⇢ genre: drabble, fluff, widower!jimin, angst (barely), artist!taehyung, the FLUFFIEST piece i've written so far, jimin is an old man

⇢ word count: 3.5k

⇢ warnings: themes of grief/loss, major character death (oc), mentions of death

⇢ summary: on your seventieth wedding anniversary, jimin celebrates in solitude by describing your face to an artist. it surfaces more fondness than grief to reminisce in the memory of his late partner.

♪ playlist: serendipity - bts • i'll never love again - lady gaga • lover - taylor swift • love of my life - queen • my everything - ariana grande ♪

[important] a/n: i am so so sorry to everyone for constantly reposting this, but my tags haven't been working. hopefully this is the last time i have to repost this!! also HAPPY PRIDE!

“Thanks for doing this for me.” The young artist had already begun mixing paints on his palette, eyeing the canvas before him to scale the size of his portrait.

Jimin was gentle with the way his eyes traveled along Taehyung’s face which was free from the age wrinkles that Jimin had grown used to seeing. He nodded as to say your welcome, a jaded but genuine smile reaching his lips to the ends of his face.

It was difficult to gauge which one was more nervous from how Taehyung had nearly knocked over his easel various times within the stretch of setting up his supplies and the lack of stillness that fraught Jimin’s hands which were trying, and failing, to fold politely in his lap.

“This is for an art project? For school?” Jimin asked, deciding that half-empty questions fit better in the air than the awkward silence funded by the lack of proper acquaintance. Not to say he wasn’t indeed curious about this whole ordeal.

“Yeah. My professor wanted us to have someone describe their significant other to us and we have to draw them based on the description! I hope I do your partner justice.” Jimin’s heart grew warmer when the enthusiasm from Taehyung’s voice made his intentions clear. He was an aspiring artist simply using his craft to procure something emotional and raw.

Jimin was the fortunate soul Taehyung had stumbled upon during his walk home. A single, elderly man sitting on a park bench, an appropriate setting for someone Jimin’s age, had aroused some curiosity in the younger man to strike up a conversation.

The slightly hung head, the pair of kind eyes trailing the various passersby, and the astounding hint of melancholy had colored Jimin in an entirely different light than anyone Taehyung had ever met.

Whatever his story was, Taehyung made it a goal to depict it with every bit of honesty and emotion he could engender from his paintbrush.

“I think it would be hard to make anything of ___ look bad." Jimin assured, feeling his shoulders fall away from his ears and his hands finally rest atop his lap.

“___? Is that her name?” Taehyung repeated it internally a few more times in an attempt to imagine what you looked like before Jimin started on his description.

He looked over to the older man, picturing an older woman sitting beside him on that park bench. His mind meandered to what kinds of things you two would talk about, or if you two were the type to construct a haven in sweet silence. Maybe Jimin would say something that would make you laugh and you would join in on the repartee with ease.

What made you laugh? How many times have you been on a plane? Did you like the color yellow? What was your favorite genre of music? What made you cry?

The questions began to bundle like a colorful bouquet of diverse flowers, waiting to be delivered into the hands of a loved one.

“Yes. Beautiful right?” Jimin’s smile faded a bit, the only evidence of it expressed through a slight curve sitting at the ends of his mouth and the crow’s feet incising his skin much more prominently than the rest of his wrinkles.

“Very beautiful.” Taehyung decided to arm himself with one of his finer brushes. He could already feel the unwavering desire to capture the most intricate of details partly for a good grade in this class but partly for the sake of keeping true to his word.

He wanted to do you and Jimin justice. To make this nothing but ornately accurate.

“How would you describe her facial structure?” The artist positioned his arm with his brush in hand, ready to dispatch the ink amassing at the tip of the synthetic hairs to the white, empty canvas.

“Soft. Perfect to fit into my hands.” Jimin stared down to the mentioned body parts, reminiscing the countless times he would scoop your face between his palms for no reason at all other than to revere your beauty. “Round cheeks. Smooth and warm skin.”

Taehyung couldn’t resist how the pang in his heart reflexively surfaced a fond smile in reaction to Jimin’s endearing description. He peeked away from the canvas before making any initial marks and gathered the loving gaze Jimin had been directing towards his matured hands cupped around the empty space that should have been your face. Then, he knew exactly which set of emotions he should embed into this portrait.

“What about her eyes, what do they look like?” Taehyung asked to acquire another image of how he should paint you, while already outlining the basic curves of a head that would quote unquote fit perfectly in Jimin's hands.

“They were kind. They always had this sparkle in it. A real sparkle, like she trapped the moonlight in her eyes.” Suddenly, Jimin's lungs were not merely occupied with air, but with an oxygenated memorial of your eyes which made his inhalations feel weighted. “They were bright and always looked at me with trust and care. Even when they had tears in them, you could have mistaken those for diamonds.”

The image was stark in his own eyes, and if he closed them then he could have been transported back seventy years to when your wedding vows were announced to the world. How your eyes looked at him and glimmered an overwhelming beauty that nearly evaporated the over-rehearsed words from his memory. Before you could roll those moonlit pupils at his fall to silence, he hastily declared the oaths that bound his heart to yours forever as if he couldn’t stand a second longer keeping those promises in.

“Were?” Taehyung articulated thoughtfully as he could with clear indication to question the past tense manner of Jimin’s narrative.

“Yeah. She has passed.” It was still difficult to feel those words ordered as such verbalized by his tongue. They tasted bitter and stale, as if they had been waiting somewhere inside to be recognized.

He wasn't aware of how his hand was now placed against his chest until he felt the heavy throbs of his tired organ. Through this, it might be that he was searching for your heartbeat that he could once identify through the his own.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Sir.” Taehyung’s hand almost fell away from the canvas, until reality restored his maneuvers and continued the lining of your face.

His focus was oscillating from the mostly white canvas, save for the thin strokes of black, to the man uncoated from his reserve through the smile that deepened the indentations of his face.

“Jimin. Call me Jimin.” He said, breaking whatever ice that froze the two of them in discomfort. That nervousness had melted away with the minutes until they both felt warm and comfortable.

“Okay, Jimin, could you describe anything else about her? It doesn’t have to be physical. This is more about emotion.” Taehyung’s brush had been hard at work, dutifully printing every hint of love that Jimin relayed and materializing it onto the portrait.

“Her smile was warm. The biggest one you would ever see. I swear, everyone she met noticed it. It was genuine. It was the smile of someone who never had mal intent and always ready to share her happiness to all those around her. Seeing it every day, it reminded me that, with her, I was always home.”

From the day he met you, eye contact was a difficult task to compass since your smile had always demanded his full attention. Each time you flashed your grin, he felt as if it was purposeful, the extension of your joy onto him. The way you made him feel every bit of bliss you felt because you were the type to believe everyone, especially Jimin, deserved to feel happy.

And each time he was endowed witness to your smile, it articulated his goal in life quite clearly: molding his actions into a kindle for your smile and doing everything in his humble power to cherish those angelic beams of joy.

“Whenever she would smile, your day would get a little bit better. And I was lucky enough to spend most of my life with her, so my days always got better. She always smiled. Like she knew how much it meant to me.”

“Sounds like ___ was very happy.” Taehyung said during the interval of giving shape to your lips. What remained on the canvas was the widest smile Taehyung could craft, knowing it was not nearly as big as the one Jimin described.

“She was. She was sad too, and angry. You did not want to see her angry, let me tell you.” A chuckle had fallen from his mouth as he postured the memory of your scowl to the forefront of his recollection. How you would equip this number when Jimin would do something particularly dumb, or when your kids were being scolded for reasons that didn’t seem as important now.

There was nothing that compared to how you could emote with your entire face in a poise that suggested your feelings willed your every movement. How you would scrunch your nose and your eyebrows would reach the middle of the space between them; the frown of your lips would pull your entire face lower. He would take your anger seriously at the time, but in retrospect, he would give anything to see that disgruntled expression again.

And he would simply smile, and perhaps snap a photo for a keepsake.

“I hope she was happy most of all. That’s all that matters, Taehyung. Make the ones you love happy. I hope I did that well enough.” Jimin began to question if he made you happy. One day, when he joined your parted soul, he would find that out for himself.

He knew beyond doubt that you had accomplished sparking joy into people's lives simply by being you.

“I will. That’s good advice, Jimin.” Taehyung made himself present in his wonders about you, despite how he was absent from your life.

From the way Jimin described you, he fully understood that Jimin wasn't speaking from the functions of a brain. The portion of his mind that conducted speech could have been rejected entirely. These words, the thoughtful description, the sentiment flowing from his voice were sourced straight from the heart.

One that felt incomplete without its other half.

“Do you miss her?” He had to inject a bit of courage in this question in the hopes it wouldn’t be overstepping any boundaries. Though, Jimin was ever so gentle with the way he moved through life and met Taehyung's requests with kindness so far.

“Very much.” A stout crack fissured through Jimin’s voice and prompted him to swallow down the sob ruminating in his throat. “I miss her more than anything in the world. More than the flowers miss the spring and wait for winter to pass so they may bloom again. These days, I’m just waiting for spring.”

Jimin had intertwined his hands together, pretending it could fill the hollow space of his palms just as well as your hands would. He knew though, this was an emptiness that would always remain unfulfilled the minute your heart stopped beating with his.

“It will come. Soon enough. She’s waiting for you too, I’m sure.” And your flower will bloom. Taehyung created the contours of your eyes and paid a sizable amount of attention to depicting that highly emphasized sparkle.

What would a painting of you be without those acclaimed glints of moonlight floating in your irises? It wouldn’t be a painting of you at all.

“Do you have a special someone in your life right now?” Jimin took over the role of the questioner and placed Taehyung in the position of the questionee. It was enough for now to repair his composure.

“Not at the moment, no.” The majority of his focus was fixed on the painting but spared just enough to answer Jimin’s inquiry.

“Well, whenever you find them, I hope you appreciate the small things. I never knew how much the small things mattered until ___ was gone. Like how she notoriously had every barista put extra cinnamon on her coffee drinks. When I would forget to add it, she would pretend to be mad at me. She'd roll her eyes and tell me I’m ‘losing it’ or she would say something dramatic like ‘what has this world come to, Park Jimin?’” His pause filtered the room with a peaceful property.

Jimin utilized the silence to ponder the moments he once hadn’t given as much as a second thought to. The same moments that would entrap him in a catatonic gaze on rainy days or during cold, lonely nights.

“She would still drink the whole thing, though. She was kind in that way. Never really letting those things go unappreciated.” His eyes fell to the floor, though he was not seeing the weathered carpet spread across the substructure. He saw none other than your eyes.

The moonlight he had the privilege of viewing up close and personal, and uncrowned the orbiting rock in the sky of its esteemed title.

“Now every time I see cinnamon, I think of her. Of her peculiar love of it and even though she loved cinnamon so much, she’d love the effort I put in even more. She always loved me generously.” There had been friction within Jimin’s throat that made it warm and swollen ever since he started talking about you. His words dislodged through labored projections, but his voice overtly strewn hints of sorrowful longing in each statement.

“She sounds very loving. I can’t imagine how lucky it was that you met her.” Though his eyes were trained on pressing the delicate illustrations of your face onto the canvas, his ears were employed in listening intently to Jimin.

He had no idea who you were, however, he was sure he too would have fallen in love. Of course, anyone would have done so through the perception of someone who had devoted his entire heart and life to loving you.

“How long were you two together?” He asked to obtain an addition to his bouquet of knowledge about you.

“We were married for seventy years but we dated for three years before that.” Jimin’s eyes were not alone anymore.

They loaded quite a collection of tears, barely keeping at the bay of his eyes, and the vision of your face when he proposed that the two of you should seal your love through something as trivial as a diamond ring.

It was irrational, not only the fact that pricey luxuries such as rings were well beyond his budget. Jimin knew that embellishing a silver band on your finger would not be enough to earn a lasting relationship or settle your commitment to him. A piece of jewelry could not entail the immense love harbored in his chest. The proposal wasn’t the end of a happy story, rather the beginning of a lifetime to learn and unlearn the elements of loving you.

Even the bumps in the road, knocking him or you away from each other, were never enough to conclusively sever the connection. Dedication and work knotted your heartstrings together. The biggest bump, your death, was the final blow that nearly disentangled them.

Nearly. But when Jimin said ‘until death do us part’ he never realized that vow held some false hope. Of course, he wouldn’t let you go, or rather he couldn’t let you go, even after you passed away. It wasn’t that easy when his heart synchronized with yours the moment he fell in love with you and he already decided to become someone who was worthy of loving you.

Now he was that man. Someone who matched the degree of kindness you always provided him. The man who would disregard any prior engagements if you called and needed him, rest assured you would do the same for him. The man who proudly held your hand, knowing the world envied him. The same man that was cultivated through growing beside someone that cared for every part of him, down to her last breath.

In that way, death was never a contender to part him from you.

“Wow.” Taehyung was not sure of how else to elaborate how genuinely impressed he was. “What's the secret? How did you manage to stay together for seventy years? I mean, people these days get divorces like it’s a quit button you can press when you get tired of playing the game.”

Jimin, despite the teary glaze over his eyes, pulled a laugh from his throat. Without warning, he fell into the trench of all the long-forgotten fights bred from pettiness or misunderstanding. Many of them were over financial or familial issues. And with the lens of a seventy-year perspective, Jimin traded shallow grudges for an important realization that certain things remain standing after the dust settles.

“We would fight. A lot, actually. Even in those perfect relationships, people always fight. But I remember now, if it were a fight over money or anything else that was expendable, there wasn’t a question in my mind of which to choose. Between the world and ___, I always choose her. I always choose love. It’s more important than anything because when you truly love someone, you want to understand them. You want to work through problems instead of leaving them to pile up and collect dust.”

Jimin’s eyes now settled on Taehyung, who had already been staring at Jimin, then continued with all the sincerity he could deploy.

“Taehyung, always choose them. Choose love. I know I did and I have no regrets. I know if I chose to stay angry at her, I would be wrestling to forgive myself.”

Taehyung’s face muscles felt tired, his smile’s permanence hadn’t allowed for them to rest.

“Anger, annoyance, frustration, jealousy? Those all fade away. In a week or a month, you’ll stop being angry at some point, but you will never stop being in love. So choose love. It’s a permanent fixture in your heart.”

Taehyung set his brush down, and the picture resting on the easel was completed and then some. He didn’t mind. Taehyung truly enjoyed the sentiments Jimin kindly shared with him, as it would have been far duller to paint in silence.

Not to mention, he discovered a love story that went untold by movies and fairytales. It was a true love story. Something so real, Taehyung fell in love just by capturing Jimin’s tale and translating it into visual art.

Because this image of you was what Jimin saw when he pictured you. The picture of you shrouded in abundance by the highest grade of love.

“I’m finished, would you like to see?” Taehyung lifted the canvas from its resting spot, turning it slowly since Jimin’s nod was geared with apprehension.

Jimin’s heart nearly bore a hole through his chest, and it would fall out to where you were resting. He was afraid of facing you, or any rendition of your face, since it would be the first time in two months that his eyes beheld anything resembling his late wife.

When the canvas turned, so did the final page of the story. The story Jimin had been purposefully writing with long-winded prose and repetitive words to stall the commencement of it. He wasn’t ready to let go, that is until his eyes beheld the painting which etched fruition of something that felt further from him than you.

Closure.

“It’s beautiful.” Jimin’s tears were disobediently running down his cheeks. “It looks exactly like her. My love. My ___.”

It was not simply a painting garnished under the guise of an academic assignment, but an ode to the grand love Jimin had carried in his heart for seventy years and counting.

“I’ll be sure to send it to you after it’s graded.” Taehyung declared in a decided manner, now fighting back tears of his own, though it was a losing battle since he already felt the empathetic stains wetting his face.

“Thank you.” Jimin whispered soft enough that Taehyung barely caught it, but loud enough that his gratitude glazed the painting with its finishing touch: acceptance.

Now it was time to let go.

“___.” He said once more.

Jimin realized what could emerge even after your physical existence had run dry. That, even though you were no longer alive, there was a ceaseless supply of lessons Jimin still learned from loving you. He learned he could guiltlessly reflect over the years and memories. Resonating the most with him were the ones he spent choosing something more powerful and decisive and resilient above all else. Choosing love.

It colored his world into something vibrant and enchanting. There was still an unquantifiable amount of love pouring from his chest without a hint of diminishing. It was a force that stretched its reign beyond graves and long, lonely years of mourning. This love was alive, and breathing joy into Jimin’s life. It would continue breathing joy into Taehyung’s life as well as the painting, marred with your semblance.

He also realized you can never fully fall out of love. Just as pain never departs, and one simply learns to live with it, to become stronger and versed in the realm of sorrow, one never falls out of love, you simply learn to live without them; you learn to trudge on without the deity that derived something as powerful as love through the biggest smiles, the glistening eyes, the heaps of cinnamon, the unremitting kindness, and the perpetual act of choosing love.

And that the beauty of loving you was no more breathtaking than the beauty of after you.

[commanderrivercc-3628]

One Hundred Sixty-Three Years

Words: 2.6k

Warning: some strong language

This was a short story I wrote a year ago. So, yeah... also this has nothing to do with Star Wars

There were eight people on the mission, which is normal as the transport shuttles are made to be large in size to transport more supplies and resources than people. When they were prepared to embark on the mission, the eight entered the large-sized shuttle and were put into one of the larger rooms in the shuttle. The engineers who created the shuttle called it the ‘Eclipse-Sleep Chamber’. Within this room, there were eight Eclipse-Sleep pods, and that’s where the eight stayed for the duration of their travels. Typical travel time is somewhere between one hundred fifty to three hundred days. The travelers weren’t told the exact number, but that’s roughly how long it takes to get to Mars, which is the mission: to transfer humans from the climate change ridden Earth to the new homeworld, Mars.

The shuttle was dark. The round lights that lined the halls were off to preserve power. An occasional window opened up the tight space, showing the empty void that waited outside. Doors led to more rooms and doorways to more halls.

One by one the Eclipse-Sleep pods began to awaken the person inside. The first person that woke up was Marcus. He stood in the center of the room, waiting to help the other eight people. In five minute intervals, the rest of the group began to wake up. Michael was the second to be brought out of Eclipse-Sleep by the automatic wake up system. Marcus stood next to the pod, arms crossed as Michael struggled to climb out. The two glared at each other as Michael left the room.

Chloe was the next to wake up. Marcus offered her a hand which she accepted. She stayed back to wait for the next person to wake up. She looked towards her shoes to avoid any eye contact with Marcus.

Another five minutes later Adam was pulled out of Eclipse-Sleep, grabbed Marcus’s hand for help, and nodded to Chloe as he walked out of the chamber. Adam was different from Marcus. That much you could tell just based on body language. While Marcus stood arms crossed and standoffish, Adam stood warm and inviting with great posture.

Chloe was still waiting with Marcus, not saying a word. Another pod opened revealing Sophia. At the sight of Sophia, Chloe rushed to her and helped her up. The two young women quickly left the room, leaving Marcus alone with the others still in the Eclipse-Sleep pods.

The next two to emerge from Eclipse-Sleep were Julia followed by Dean. The last sleeping crew member was a young woman. She had shoulder-length, curly auburn hair.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” Marcus sweetly stated.

The woman slowly opened her eyes to see who was talking to her. The chamber was bright… too bright. Her eyes adjusted quickly and soon was able to make out Marcus’ smirking face.

Judging by the look of him, he was older than she was. He had deep green eyes, a five o’clock shadow, and short, dusty brown hair that was beginning to grey on the sides.

“Don’t call me Sleeping Beauty, Marcus.” The young woman said, groaning. Her beautiful amber eyes seemed to sparkle.

“Look, Sweet Heart, it’s really not my fault you overslept.”  Marcus laughed as if it were Bobbi’s fault that her Eclipse-Sleep pod woke her up last.

“Don’t call me Sweet Heart either. Where are the others?” Bobbi asked, looking around to find the other six people on the mission.

There were four men, including Marcus, and three women other than Bobbi.

“Well, I’m guessing Michael went to the control room seeing as he’s technically the boss. And Julia probably went there too, since she’s the technology specialist. I’m gonna bet that Dean went to the med bay since he’s the medic. But I don’t know where everyone else went. Oh, and we are here, alone.” Marcus replied.

He winked at Bobbi after that last part. Bobbi rolled her eyes and began fussing with the restraints that fastened her in the pod. Marcus helped Bobbi pull herself out of the pod, which was situated in the wall like a small cave. The end of the pods stuck out with a glass dome that opened, allowing the person inside to get out

Just then, static sounded overhead as the speaker turned on.

“Everyone get to the control room. Now. We have a problem.” It was from Michael. There was a distinct hint of urgency and worry in his voice.

Bobbi and Marcus looked at each other and then took off running out of the chamber and down the hallway.

Dean and Adam were already in the control room, along with Julia and Michael, by the time Marcus and Bobbi arrived. Bobbi looked to each of her fellow crewmates. Michael was standing by a large chair which she identified to be the captain’s seat. Julia was standing to the right-hand side of the room by a large panel. Bobbi assumed this to be the diagnostic equipment. Adam stood opposite of Julia on the left-hand side by another large panel, which she concluded to be the navigation panel.

Sophia and Chloe arrived a few moments later.

“The travel logs,” Michael began. “They say we’ve been in space for 59533 days.”

Confusion washed over the crew’s faces. A few raised their eyebrows. Some put their hands over their mouths. Others just stood there. Chloe was the first to speak up.

“How is that possible?” Chloe asked.

“It shouldn’t be,” Michael stated.

“Well, that’s what it says,” Adam argued. “The navigation logs aren’t wrong.”

“There must be something wrong in the system then.” Bobbi began.

“There’s not.” Adam was now shouting. “No matter how many times you ask me to check the damn travel logs, it won’t change.”

By that time Sophia had walked over to Adam and placed her hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath. Everyone look at each other, the looks of confusion now turning into concern.

“Yeah, look, I hate to point out the obvious,” Marcus stated, “but that’s not near Mars.”

“Jee, Marcus. That was so helpful.” Bobbi said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

Marcus scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out.

“You’re thirty-nine years old. Act your age.” Bobbi said, her voice grew louder.

“Enough,” Michael yelled. “Adam, is there any way to convert that time to years?”

“Maybe.”

The room was silent. Everyone just looked around at each other. No one made a sound until Michael sighed.

“I’ve tried to recover the log files, but I can’t find anything.” He said.

“I could give it a try,” Julia said.

While Julia began typing very quickly to useful, Adam turned to speak.

“We’re about one hundred sixty-three years away from Earth.”

The room was dead silent again. Chloe turned to step out for a moment as tears filled her eyes. Sophia followed her sister out of the control room to comfort her. Marcus crossed his arms, shaking his head, and pinning his tongue between his back teeth causing his jaw to appear slightly crooked.

Julia had now turned around and pulled up a video. Seeing this Michael had called Sophia and Chloe back into the room.

“Wait, what is that?” Sophia asked.

“No idea,” Julia said. “But it’s dated back to before the launch.”

She looked back over her shoulder to the other. She played the video.

A man, probably about fifty years old, appeared on the screen. He was wearing a white lab coat and safety goggles on the top of his head. There was sweat on his brow, and he kept glancing over his shoulder.

“Isn’t that Dr. Gallagher?” Dean asked.  

“Yeah, it is,” Sophia said.

Dr. Gallagher was the head engineer and astronomer back on Earth. He actually designed the Eclipse-Sleep pods, allowing long-distance space travel without aging.

No one spoke as the video played.

“Hello.” The video Dr. Gallagher said. “No doubt by now the eight of you have discovered that you aren’t going to Mars. Recently, I discovered a planet in an unknown galaxy. I believe that it supports life.”

All jaws dropped. Eyes widened. Still, no one spoke. The video played on.

“Now I am aware that none of you were informed of the change in plans, but mission control wasn’t either. The board wouldn’t approve to send anyone to this new planet because it’s ‘too far away’. Ridiculous. Here we are, on a dying planet. And a perfectly good habitable planet is just about one hundred sixty-three years away from Earth. But I showed them. I sent you there anyway.” The doctor paused and took a deep breath. He mumbled something to himself and smiled creepily.

“I will be dead by the time you see this. But none of that matters because I was right. I was able to send you all to Planet 893RF. Now should you succeed and actually make it to the planet, the eight of you will be able to live out the rest of your lives on this new planet. Unfortunately, I was not able to bribe the fuel mechanics into giving you enough fuel to last a four hundred year journey. Meaning, you won’t be able to return to Earth or Mars. I wish all of you luck, and I hope you enjoy your new home. I will continue to try and get a sanctioned mission sent to Planet 893RF so that there will be more of you, however, I doubt it will happen.”

The video shut off. No one spoke. Tears filled the eyes of Julia, Chloe, and Dean.

“Damn it,” Dean screamed. Falling to his knees as the realization he’d never see his wife and daughter again set in.

Marcus’ hands balled into fists. The rest just stood, jaws dropped. The silence was eerie, in the light-filled room. After what felt like years, Bobbi spoke.

“So, we were basically sent on an unauthorized suicide mission to a planet that may, or may not be habitable. Did I get that right?”

“That’s exactly what happened,” Chloe said.

   “Shit,” Bobbi said.

“Guys…” Adam said. No one was listening, as Adam slowly made his way towards the large window in the control room.

“This new information doesn’t change the facts that we still have a mission to accomplish,” Michael stated.

Chloe, Julia, and Dean nodded in agreement as they wiped tears from their eyes. Dean stood up.

“What mission, Michael?” Marcus yelled. “We are over one hundred years past the mission. We don’t even know if people are still being sent to Mars.”

Bobbi and Sophia looked at each other then nodded, showing their agreement with Marcus. They stepped forward slightly to stand next to him. Chloe, Julia, and Dean then stepped closer to Michael.

“That doesn’t mean anything, Marcus.” Michael calmly replied, trying to refrain from becoming angry.

“Guys…” Adam said yet again, now standing next to the large window, staring off into space. There was still no one listening.

“What would the point even be to continue the mission? Everyone we’ve ever known is dead. And heading back to Mars would take another, what? One hundred sixty-three years?” He turned to look at Julia, who nodded in response to confirm his number. “How do you know we even have enough full to travel all the way back to the Milky Way?”

Michael didn’t say anything. He just stood expressionless. He only moved to glance towards Julia. Julia nodded in response and began to examine the various gauges and controls until finding the fuel gauge. She turned back around to look at Michael and shook her head.

“See,” Marcus said, motioning his hand towards Julia, who had just proved his point. Upon hearing this, Chloe walked past Michael to stand beside Bobbi and Sophia,  clearly now agreeing with Marcus over Michael.

“We have a new mission, don’t we?” Michael said, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly.

“There is no way in hell I’m going to do what that slimy son of a-”

“Guys,” Adam yelled, causing everyone to turn their heads in his direction. “Come look at this.”

The other seven made their way to the large window. Everyone’s jaw dropped when they look outside. There was a planet, it was Planet 893RF.

“It looks just like Earth, in a way,” Bobbi said.

The planet was primarily water, with some small islands of dense green scattered throughout the ocean. There was an occasional larger island, but the vast majority were smaller by comparison. Small bursts of clouds were scattered throughout the atmosphere.

“I feel like we are obligated to go down there at this point.” Adam calmly stated. Everyone slowly began to nod in response to Adam’s statement. Everyone, that is, except for Marcus.

“We can’t go down there.” He exclaimed.

“And why not?” Sophia asked, turning to look at Marcus while placing her hand on her hip.

“It’s suicide. We have no idea what, or maybe even who is down there.” Marcus replied, flinging his arm in the direction of the window, gesturing towards Planet 893RF.

   “That’s exactly why we should go down there. We need to explore and see if it’s actually a habitable planet.” Chloe rebutted.

   “If we go down there, Dr. Gallagher will have won. He ruined our lives. It’s his fault we’ll never see our families again.” Marcus expressed.

“Well then what do you propose, Marcus? Stay here on the shuttle?” Dean asked, stepping forward to be more engaged in the conversation.

“Maybe.” Marcus shrugged.

“We can’t stay on the shuttle.” Julia began, using her advanced knowledge of technology and the shuttle itself to get her point across. “The shuttle will eventually run out of fuel. At that point, life support will begin to fail, if not sooner.”

“Marcus, we have no other option but to go down onto the surface of the planet,” Bobbi said, placing her hand on Marcus’ shoulder while smiling at him sweetly.

“Wait. How do we even know if the atmosphere is breathable?” Michael questioned.

Marcus made a smug face and gestured towards Michael. Sophia and Chloe rolled their eyes. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger while shaking his head. Adam sighed.

“Once we get closer to the surface of the planet I can run an analysis of the planet���s atmosphere with shuttle’s diagnostic equipment,” Julia stated matter of factly.

“Ugh, fine,” Marcus said, giving up the argument knowing he wouldn’t win. “Now what do we do?”

“Go down to the surface of the planet, obviously,”  Sophia stated.

“I mean we’ll have to gather food stores and weapons to defend ourselves. None of that even matters if the atmosphere is toxic to us.” Bobbi rambled.

“Hold on.” Michael began. “Is everyone ready to go to the planet’s surface?”

Everyone nodded almost simultaneously, even Marcus, who still had his arms crossed.

“Alright then. It’s settled. Down to the planet we go.” Michael said, putting his hands on his hips.

He looked everyone over. They were strong and intelligent, some more than others, but nonetheless, still the best of the best.

The eight stood in a circle. No one moved. No one spoke. Despite deciding to make the venture to the surface of Planet 893RF, no one really knew what to do. They didn’t even know if they would be able to land the shuttle. They didn’t know what was to come, and what may be down there, but they all knew they could handle it. As long as they worked together, but the eight were on their own. That’s really what scared them.

[liskantope]

A personal look back on my summer 2020

My fall semester has already been going on for a little while, but in the past week the weather has suddenly switched from hot to autumny and now it feels like the summer was a period which is truly over and which I can look back upon as (unsurprisingly) one of the most singular summers of my life.

I consider myself to be excellent at autobiographical memory, probably in the 90th percentile or so, at least when it comes to being able to recall the year or month (or sometimes week) that particular events of my life occurred.  I attribute this to often being able to connect various things that were going on in different areas of my life at the same time (rather like separate arcs in a television episode) in ways that allow me to anchor any particular memory to the time it occurred.  Sometimes there are particular time periods where the "plot arcs" of my life somehow seem to fit together really well in a united larger story or a      single flavor, whereas looking back at other periods I can with some effort remember various arcs but it's hard to hunt them out and put them together, as though they were part of a poorly-written TV episode which doesn't have any particular unity.

Summers for me have always stood apart from the years they were in (with the slight exception of the summers I spent abroad doing my first postdoc which had so little structure that my general routine was the same all year round).  This summer I often looked back at the summer of 2010 (the last divisible-by-ten year), which was an example of the former: somehow all the separate arcs going on in my life at the time -- my studying and research (sadly, this was the most recent summer when I actually felt good about how studying/research was going!), stuff that was going on in my immediate family, progress in my social life, my first forays into doing local gigs as part of a band, the weather, my      apartment/roommate situation, shows I was watching, and personal internal struggles I was facing -- feel like they were all nuances of the same flavor.  (This was back in the days that I had cable and it so happened that Curb Your Enthusiasm was on the TV Guide Channel and I was introduced to it and watched it a lot just that summer; for years afterwards the theme tune immediately brought back the emotions that came with the flavor of summer 2010.  Semi-coincidentally I've been watching a lot of Curb clips on YouTube since I noticed them appearing early this past summer.)

The following summer, summer of 2011, is an example of the latter kind of time period in my memory: I'm able to remember a bunch of separate things that went on, including a visit to Switzerland, some of the research I was trying to do, my living situation (and anticipation of a move and the shift in my social life it would bring), my discovery of the local Unitarian Universalist fellowship and being a regular attendant there the entire summer, some particular online interests, and the unpleasant bike accident I had, but it takes some effort to recall that this was all happening in the same three months.  (One thing I do distinctly remember about my living situation is that my one roommate spent most of the summer out of town and that, in anticipation of my next roommate who I knew traveled less and would be much more social, I was telling myself, "Enjoy this level of privacy now because chances are you'll never have it again." I was absolutely right in my prediction that there would be much less solitude and privacy with the next roommate who I remained living with for several years, but I sort of assumed that after that I would have found some kind of a partner to be with all the time, and... oh the irony as I sit here, still continuously partner-free, after another day of the far more intense privacy and solitude of the past six months!)

This past summer, the summer of 2020, is very, very clearly bound to become a longer-term memory of the former kind: its extreme flavor is unmistakable.  As is probably the case for most of us, my experience of summer 2020 has been shaped almost entirely shaped by the pandemic we're still in the midst of.  For me this has meant constantly being home alone (although I settled pretty soon on into a pattern of going on daily bike rides and weekly supermarket trips plus a number of other types of errands.  Also, a caveat to the rest of this paragraph is that my parents visited one weekend and that provided an exception to some of the otherwise constant conditions below.)  I became uncharacteristically super introverted and very intent on making as much research progress as possible in the absence of teaching duties. None of this has been too unpleasant, but there has been a complete and utter lack of any form of fun, both in traveling (this may hold the record of the only summer where I stayed in the same 6-mile radius the entire time) and in social events.  The one positively pleasant thing in my life this summer was discovering the most beautiful area for cycling in any place I've lived, as well as a handful of late-evening warm-summer-night walks.  The extreme degree of loneliness and the necessity of self-discipline to keep my wheels turning has been smothering, and actually I think I dealt with it much better than I would ever have imagined I could if someone had told me this was coming a year ago.

I'd say my summer was a personal success in that way and in most other ways apart from the main concrete objective of completing a research preprint, which failed quite badly and is putting my career aspirations in a very precarious place (it would have been nice to get some heavier blogging done as well).  One could say that this was a less important goal than that of not letting my mental health spiral, though, and I did succeed quite well at the latter.  (In fact, I was doing much worse in January and February than I was when the pandemic hit.)  I'm upset that my goals seem to take me much longer than I feel they should but am glad that this doesn't seem to be due to an inability to sit down and focus on the work, as was the case with research during some summers of grad school.

Part of the flavor of summer 2020 that will live on in my memory has to do with my being home alone so much of the time, never having to get near other people, in an apartment that I kept hot, that, let's just say it took me a ridiculously long time to accumulate each laundry load and there were often T-shirts draped over my sofa to be reused for an hour or two at a time over multiple days.

While I'm continuing on this gratuitously self-absorbed vein, as I've noted that I love keeping track of personal "endurance" records, I've (again unsurprisingly, because of the situation) made a bunch of them which I'll finish by taking note of here:

Longest time without stepping out of the front door: I actually was careful to make sure I never stayed entirely inside for two days in a row, but it finally happened the weekend before last (after a late Friday night walk in my complex where I may or may not have gotten back inside by midnight).  I believe it was 61 hours, or very nearly 61 hours, without exiting my apartment. This may be a lifelong record; the only other event that compares was a 2-3-day period in March 2011 when I was very feverishly ill in the wake of a snowstorm, and I don't recall how far beyond 48 hours I stayed in.

Longest time without going into my office (or even onto my campus) in over a decade of having an office: from April 2nd to August 11th.  Hardly a unique one here, but I never thought I could have handled only having my home to work in for over four months.

Longest time not going near any public transportation whatsoever, since high school: Sunday March 8th (or just after midnight on March 9th, a bus ride as the final leg of the journey home from my last trip of any sort) to 26 Sundays later on September 6th because of having to leave my bike in the shop.

Longest stretch of time not withdrawing cash or paying for something in cash: since sometime in early March and counting.  The only times I've touched the cash in my wallet at all during all of this time was on two occasions when I gave a bill to someone in need.

Longest time since age 19 not touching a drop of alcohol: since April 11th (at a virtual birthday party of a friend) and continuing.  This smashes a record from last fall of something like 54 days.

Longest time with the thermostat completely off (no use of heat or AC): from one of the last days of March to, I think, June 4th. This was nothing to do with the pandemic (in fact, it makes the pandemic situation slightly more remarkable since I've had to be home for a lot more of the time); the spring where I am was just particularly pleasant.

Longest time not shaving my facial hair: 32 days in the late summer, breaking a record from earlier in the summer of exactly a month.

There are probably other even sillier ones, such as the fact that I’m pretty sure I didn’t put on shoes from sometime at the start of June to a few days ago. You’d also think I’d break an endurance record for not uttering a spoken word to anyone, but I haven’t kept track of that.

Let’s hope future intervals in my life are much less extreme and record-breaking; that’s the gist of what I wish for everyone right now.

[niksfiks]

Gotta Get It Right: Chapter 10

PAIRING: Loki/OFC

RATING: Mature

NOTES/WARNINGS: Trigger warning: mentions of dubcon, violence, PTSD, sexual assault, and physical abuse in later chapters. 

Also on Ao3 

Feedback is always appreciated (just being an attention whore screaming for comments/reblogs). Taglist is open

Tagging @mischievousbellerina @fandom-and-feminism @fadingcoast @igotloki @mrshiddleston-uk @amwolowicz

Chapter 10: Exit, Stage Right

Aleksa watched quietly as two guards moved along their patrol route, thankful that the back halls were monitored less frequently than the corridor she’d been led through from the dungeons. Accessing the ventilation systems was far easier than anticipated and the large conduits gave her quiet and unrestricted access to her goal. The waves of nausea that had plagued her since awakening had subsided, thanks in no small part to the bits of bread and meat she’d managed to pilfer from the kitchens. The pain was easing as well, a sure sign that her body was adjusting to whatever changes Terragenesis had brought. A silent prayer for not turning into something like Lash went up. 

Some fates are worse than death. Maybe Nick can get these damn implants taken out. Or Malik, whichever comes first. 

Her objective was close. She could sense the energy radiating off of it along with dozens of other objects suspected to be held in the vault. Perhaps something else would be of enough interest to the Council for her to buy her way out of her contract and vanish for good, maybe to some backwater third world country. Wakanda was nice, she’d heard. 

A newly arrived squad of soldiers drew her attention. They were more heavily armed than those standing watch over the vault, speaking in hushed tones. Aleksa was barely able to make out what was said but understood the implication. 

Time to go. 

The larger patrol moved away, dividing themselves down different corridors as they traveled. 

Longer I’m here, the more complicated this gets, she thought, slinking down the shaft. No one said Malik needed to know if or when I got... 

There.

Just beneath her lay the inner vault. The hum of power was nearly deafening. All of Aleksa’s concentration became focused on suppressing the noise until she determined where her target was. Once located, she recalled an old mantra to drown out all sound and dropped into the room. Drawing a deep breath, she concentrated on the energy patterns of floor and walls, noting the changes in color and intensity until she was confident of where everything was: the doors, the guards on the other side, additional ventilation shafts and hidden rooms. 

A lack of distinguishable security measures concerned her as she snuck along the floor, passing artifact after artifact. The concern was short-lived as the doors to the vault swung wide, admitting Loki and a pack of guards hot on his heels. 

Aleksa swore under her breath, breaking into a full run to her destination. The glowing blue cube sat on its pedestal, mesmerizing her as she reached out to take it.  

“Stop!” Loki shouted, Aleksa’s hand hovering over the cube. He approached slowly, followed by the guards, their weapons leveled on her. “You won’t survive if you touch that. You've no idea the power it holds.”

“Oh, really?” Aleksa smirked, looking at the cube and back at Loki, daring him to continue moving forward while she scanned the room again. None of the possible exits were going to be accessible from where she stood. The only option was behind her but there was no guarantee that there was an exit on the other side of the grating.  

“Better to burn out than to fade away,” she muttered and reached for the cube. 

Before Loki could respond, the soldiers behind him opened fire. An explosion of blinding blue light knocked them all to the floor. He rose slowly, trying to shake off the effects of the blast. Taking a cautious step forward in the rubble, he saw the woman laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, the Tesseract glowing in her hand. He stopped as she climbed to her feet, watching in awe while her eyes shifted from the same blue glow of the cube to gold to the hazel he’d seen when they met. 

“Give me the Tesseract,” he cooed, “and no harm will come to you.” 

Aleksa just stood there, her brain racing to keep up with the volumes of information being fed into it. She thought she heard Loki’s voice, but wasn’t sure she understood the words. The sound of rushing water caught her attention, spurring her to the newly formed opening in the vault wall. A river flowed below her, awakening memories of distant lands.  

Loki stepped back when new strands of light began swirling between them. Aleksa’s eyes went wide, a sly grin crossing her face as the room disappeared behind a widening circle of blue and white. She watched in awe as greens and browns came into focus. While the homes she’d known were gone, she was certain she was looking at her birthplace. 

A portal without a sling ring. Wait...what? W-why do I know that?

Aleksa blinked and the portal started shrinking. When the circle closed, Loki was almost directly in front of her, his hand outstretched. 

“You can’t hope to control it. Give me the Tesseract and I’ll send you home.”

“Already got a ride, thanks.” She spun around and kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backward. “That’s twice,” she laughed.

Loki scrambled to his feet, watching her move to the other side of the hall only to launch herself through the open wall. When he saw her again, she was emerging on the bank opposite the palace, flipping the cube in her hand before taking off in a sprint across the plain. 

“I want her brought back alive,” he growled. He turned back to the guards, all staring in shock. “NOW!”

-----

Aleksa was able to hide easily enough from the ships patrolling above her and the two ravens sent out from the palace now and again, but her progress was slowed by the sheer amount of energy she had to expend to shield the surges of power the Tesseract would give off. She felt sure that if she could sense it from a distance, so could Loki. She was hopeful that the proximity of the Rainbow Bridge and observatory housing the Bifrost was helping to mask it, but couldn’t risk being discovered. The more she felt her own energy draining, the more she concentrated on her memories of the rescue plan and made for the fields between her and the Earth-bound portal. 

The portal. There was no guarantee that it still functioned, that the intervals were still stable, or how long she’d have to wait for it to open. Even if it was operating as normal, she had no way to know who would be waiting on the other side, if anyone. There were just too many question marks for this escape route to work. 

Another skiff roared over her head and she dropped to the ground. Perhaps commandeering one of those ships would prove a better option. Find a transport off Asgard and vanish into the universe. Surely, someone else would want Loki’s magic cube as badly as he did. 

Or...

She looked around and saw no signs of pursuers, then gently slid the Tesseract out of its pouch. It glowed brighter in her hand, sending a sensation of warmth through her body. 

Mesmerized by the changing light floating in front of her, she stared into the cube, imagining all of the places she could go. Her eyes fluttered closed as she relaxed, focusing on where in the universe she wanted to be. 

“Keeper of the Stone, master of space,” a soft voice whispered in her head. A voice that she’d heard a million times before but just couldn’t align with a face. “Come home.”

She held the Tesseract out in front of her and allowed the energy to surge through her, willing the portal into existence. White light began to arc around the cube, sending sparks into the air. 

Aleka’s eyes opened as the portal widened, giving the faintest glimpse of the ocean stretching into the distance. Sand appeared next, then the familiar beach grass and fencing. She stood, stepping toward the portal while watching her home materialize in front of her. The shouts of soldiers distracted her, sending the portal to another location. When she turned back, Aleksa saw sands scorched black and structures smoldering in the distance.

“No! Nononononono!” she screamed, falling to the ground. The portal hissed shut when the Tesseract dropped from her hands and rolled into a boot. Aleksa looked up to see a large, heavily armored man towering above her.

“Back you go, dearie,” was the last thing she heard before the world went dark. 

[inkedmyths]

If I hear one more ribbit, I'm going to lose my goddamn mind

Heeeeeeeeeeey I'm back with more content. And continuation! Who missed the twins?

-

---

-

After awhile of running around, Wild nearly impaling himself on the Master Sword at least twice, and some detours due to the fact that it was impractical to follow the sword in a straight line (which had to be explained to Wild as he was about to scale a cliff), Twilight was finally able to convince the other two to stop for the night. The sun had long since passed from the sky, and he was distinctly reminded that the group of heroes had specifically stopped for the night several hours earlier. Exhaustion had long since started prickling at him. When they finally did set up camp, he'd passed out immediately.

Which, in hindsight, was probably not the best idea considering who he was traveling with.

"How many of these things are there?" He hissed as he yanked another frog out of his sleeping gear.

"If I remember correctly, about fifteen." Wild said.

"Why do you have fifteen frogs?!"

Wild shrugged. "They're useful for certain potions." He picked up another runaway frog and stuffed it back in the bag.

Twilight glared at Feral, who was still clutching his stomach laughing. He was, of course, the perpetrator of the jailbreak. "The look on your face!" He howled, falling backwards onto the grassy hillside.

"I think that's all of them." Wild said, double checking some of the gear and nodding when no frogs were found. Twilight sighed in relief. He sat down, finally able to pull on a boot-

A sickening squelch.

Twilight was fairly sure if Feral had been a normal Hylian, he would have passed out from laughing so hard. He shot a livid glance at the shadow as he pulled the boot off to examine the inside. The unfortunate frog who'd decided to hide in the footwear was now little more than slime and organ bits. Even for one so well versed in slaying monsters and tending to even the grossest animals, Twilight couldn't help making a face of disgust.

"Yikes," muttered Wild as he examined the boot over Twilight's shoulder. "That'll take awhile to clean out."

"Tell me about it," Twilight grumbled. Rummaging in his pack, he pulled out a rag and started cleaning out the inside of the shoe.

After several more minutes, the three finally set off. Despite his best efforts to remove the frog's remains, Twilight could still feel a slight squelching everytime he took a step. He made a mental note to do something to protect his gear that night. He was unsure of exactly what he'd do, but figured he could ask Wild for some tips. Surely he had some advice on dealing with his somewhat more chaotic twin.

"So," Wild began, trying to divert thoughts from the morning's incident. "Where do you think the other heroes are?"

Twilight considered the question. "Hard to say. The only really I can really be sure of is that they're in someone else's Hyrule."

"What do you think they're doing?"

Twilight shrugged. "Probably something similar to what we're doing."

---

"Hey Hyrule?"

"Yeah, Legend?"

"I fucking hate your Hyrule."

"Noted."

"Less talk you two, more running from the three headed dragon!"

"I thought you had boundless energy, Mr. Captain?"

"Do you want me to trip you?"

---

Twilight surveyed their surroundings as he walked. "Where exactly are we?"

"Hyrule."

Twilight had to resist the urge to kick Feral for that comment. "You know what I mean."

"We're heading somewhere east of Hyrule Field and Castle, towards the Great Plateau." Wild answered.

"Great Plateau? Is that where the sword is taking us?"

"Possibly." Wild frowned. "Not sure why."

"If she's taking us there, I bet it's to the temple." Feral chimed in.

"Temple?" Twilight glanced at him warily.

"The Temple of Time. Wasn't there an old legend about that being a place of heroes? Seems like the perfect place for a passage between different Hyrules."

Twilight's mind immediately went to his ancestor. "Actually, that seems like a fairly good possibility," he said, mildly surprised at Feral's useful input.

"If that's where we're going, then we'll have a climb. How good are you at that?" Wild looked back at Twilight.

"As good as any adventurer. Why?"

"The Great Plateau is isolated from the rest of Hyrule by sheer cliffs and stone walls. Even at its lowest areas, it's a hundred meter drop straight down."

Twilight grimaced. "Okay, I see your point. I have fairly good stamina, but not that good."

Wild paused. His brow furrowed in concentration, clearly thinking hard. After a moment, he spoke. "I could try using the Slate..."

Twilight had no idea what he was talking about, but apparently Feral did. "Think it can transport him too?"

"It works with you."

"I'm also generally an exception to a lot of rules."

"What do you mean, use the Slate?" Twilight interjected.

"The Sheikah Slate has a teleportation feature. I can teleport to any Tower and Shrine I've registered. There's a Tower and five shrines on the Great Plateau."

Twilight mulled over this new information. "And you're not sure if the teleportation will work with me?"

"Well, more like I'm not sure if it will work with multiple people. It works with both me and Feral, but..."

"Feral is also your shadow, and therefore may not conform to the regular rules," Twilight finished.

"Pretty much."

Twilight rubbed his chin in thought. "How about this: we keep following the sword for now. We don't know for sure if our destination is actually the Temple. It could be a random interval in between, all things considered. If it does turn out to be the Temple, then we try the Slate. If that doesn't work, we'll figure something else out."

Wild nodded. "Sounds good."

Feral shrugged. "Works for me."

"Alright," said Twilight. "How long until we reach the Plateau?"

Wild examined his Slate. "It's a several day's journey from here."

"Let's get going then. The sooner we get where we're going, the better."

Wild raised the Master Sword. "Onwards!"

"And upwards!" Feral chimed in.

Personally, Twilight rather hoped it wasn't the Temple of Time. Of course, it probably would be for that very reason. But, aside form the obvious difficulty in reaching it, he would rather avoid using it to travel. He himself didn't mind it so much, but considering Time's dislike of the place... well, he'd rather not know why. His ancestor was cagey about his experiences as a Hero, but if his scar was anything to go by, they weren't fun.

He shook his head. It was no use dwelling on those thoughts right now. Better to focus on the quest at hand than bother himself with those sorts of ideas. Besides, he needed to be present to keep an eye on Wild and Feral. The last thing he wanted was to lose sight of them.

Or, he thought as his foot squelch squished in his boot, Be caught off guard by another prank.

[redvanillabee]

Masks and Coronavirus: a Note from an Asian

TLDR:

Masks are to a certain extent effective, depending on where you live, the population density in your area, and whether there have been community spread in your area.

There is a difference between wearing masks as a preventive measure, and hoarding masks to the extent of reducing market supplies

You can have Covid-19 and not show symptoms, and a mask stops you from unknowingly spreading the virus

There are a lot of super crowded cities around the world, where if you cough, you will hit dozens of people at once.

A mask and other personal hygiene practices are not mutually exclusive

As an Asian, it’s wild seeing how much of a taboo wearing a mask is, especially in the west. And since wearing a mask is ingrained in Asian customs, I see a lot of misunderstanding arising from that. So I want to talk about it: are masks necessary? Why are Asians so insistent on wearing masks?

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. I am just an Asian who lived through the SARS epidemic of 2003.

Covid-19: Infection Methods and Incubation Period

Covid-19 is the illness currently spreading across the world, and it is caused by the virus SARS-Cov-2.

Covid-19 is spread through the droplets and spittle coming out of you. When you sneeze, cough, or even talk loudly, you spray droplets into the area around you, and onto anyone in your immediate vicinity. If you are sick, those droplets will carry and spread the disease.

The incubation period--the time between the virus enters you and symptoms start showing--can be up to 14 days. For those who do show symptoms, usually it will show up at around day 5.

Some people who contract the disease are asymptomatic, meaning they show no symptoms at all. Statistics vary on how likely it is that one can spread the virus while asymptomatic.

That said, asymptomatic transmission is also not as rare as one would think. In Hong Kong, 15 of the current 116 confirmed cases were reported asymptomatic

East Asia and Face Masks

While I cannot speak for all of Asia, because this is a big place, there has been a face mask culture in East Asia that predates even SARS. After SARS, face masks found its way into part of public health as well as social etiquette.

Before SARS, masks have been worn to keep the face warm during the harsh winters of NE Asia, and during hay fever season to block out pollen.

One of the legacies of SARS in Hong Kong is definitely the surgical face mask. It has worked its way into our society, evolving from a protection against virus into part of the social etiquette.

You are expected to wear a mask if you are sick, to protect those around you by not spreading germs. If a lot of people around you are sick, you would also wear a mask to protect yourself. Afters SARS and long before Covid-19, you can find single surgical masks in Hong Kong 7-11.

Masks are also worn for a lot of reasons in Asia. Kpop stars popularised wearing face masks for The Aesthetic, and to avoid being recognised. Hong Kong protesters also wear masks for the same latter reason.

We also wear masks for even more inane reasons than that. A lot of girls around me have worn masks because they have a breakout, they couldn’t be arsed to put on makeup that day, they look rough because they didn’t get enough sleep, etc.

The population density in Asia also means there’s a higher chance of your coughs and sneezes hitting others, so a masks can be an important hygiene barrier between people. A lot of the most densely populated areas in the world are found in Asia. 

Taylor R, a Hong Kong-based Canadian YouTuber, has done an excellent video explaining the face mask culture of East Asia from a western perspective. This might be helpful to understand what face masks mean to Asians. 

What can and can’t face masks do?

I have seen a lot of arguments against face masks from the west, and most of those articles hinge on one fact: that face masks are ineffective in protecting you from the coronavirus. Yes, face masks don’t make you invincible. But:

You can be infected with the coronavirus, and be asymptomatic--meaning that you do not show symptoms. No coughing, no sneezing, no fevers. But you are still able to spread the virus even if you show no symptoms

If you are infected and wear a mask, surgical face masks are proven to block the spread of diseases. In other words, if you are infected and show no symptoms, wearing a mask can stop you from unknowingly spreading the virus. 

Surgical face masks also reduce the risk of contracting the disease if you are person in close contact with a confirmed case, e.g. family members, colleagues sharing the same office, classmates sharing the same classroom.

Should you wear a mask?

The situation in each country, each city, heck, each area is different, so take my advice with a grain of salt. But here is my take on the question:

If you live in a crowded city, are attending a crowded event, or taking crowded public transport, and there is proven community spread, wearing a mask is advisable.

If you choose to wear a mask, there is a difference between buying what you need, and hoarding to the extent of reducing market supplies. Buy what you need. At present, the opinion in Hong Kong is that if you have 6 weeks worth of masks, that is enough.

Learn the difference across different types of masks. For day-to-day protection, a surgical face mask is enough. If you are not a medical professional, you do not need to use an N95 mask.

If you choose to wear a mask, also make sure that you are wearing it properly. Observe proper mask hygiene (e.g. not touching the outside of the mask, changing it at regular intervals, etc.) Wearing a mask improperly compromises the level of protection.

This is what a surgical face mask looks like:

This is what an N95 mask looks like:

Final Thoughts

Wearing face masks and other personal hygiene practices are not mutually exclusive. You can wear a mask AND practise social distance and wash your hands properly. In fact, you should. A mask is not an impenetrable shield. 

Different countries have different medical infrastructure and social etiquette. My advice almost certainly will not match up perfectly with what is needed in your city.

There is some value to face masks, but only when it is done properly.

There have been a lot of racist attacks on Asian people since the outbreak, and our Asian instinct to buy and wear face masks seem to be adding to this. Please know that to a lot of East Asians, face masks is ingrained in our culture as simultaneously a public health measure, and a social etiquette. We also see a lot of protective value in a mask.

[areusittingcomfortably]

Their tragic sense of life

Part 3

That might have been the end of their friendship.

If Ríos hadn’t been sober.

If the Breen hadn’t chosen that night to hunt down a Ferengi trader who’d cheated them, who happened to be in the same bar.

If the Ferenghi trader they were searching for hadn’t turned to look at the crazy woman with the mop of curly hair yelling curses at the strangely calm man,  spotted his pursuers and pulled out his phaser.

Things turned ugly very quickly. Shots were fired. People scattered.

Ríos pulled Raffi down to the ground. She was too high, and angry with him to immediately register what was going on. It all happened so fast. 

He couldn’t leave Raffi in this shitshow. Not when she wasn’t thinking straight or capable of looking out for herself. Never leave a man behind. His father had drummed it into him long before Starfleet got a hold of Cris.

He struggled to keep her down on the floor and shut her up, waiting for the fugitive to make a run for it, his attackers hot on his heels.

In the chaos, the Ferengi dropped something and it span across the floor to where Raffi and Ríos hunkered down beside the bar. Ríos grabbed it without thinking. It was a transporter.

Later, he didn’t know what the hell had possessed him to take such a risk, but in that moment, just wanting to get himself (and a dangerously tripping Raffi), out of there, he activated it. 

And whoever was on standby at the controls on the other end, responded.

The ship they found themselves on was a small cargo freighter, and as luck would have it, appeared to be manned only by a crew of Emergency Holograms.

Ríos didn’t wait for an invitation. He’d never flown one of these things before but had trained on every imaginable simulator. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was fly.

So, he didn’t hesitate, and before anyone else had a chance to beam on board, he’d raised the shields and pushed them into warp speed.

All he needed to do was stay one step ahead of the ship’s rightful owner and the Breen pursuing him, sober Raffi up, and find a way to deactivate those fucking Emergency Holograms that wouldn’t shut up about him stealing the ship.

***** 

Cris headed for an outpost on the very edge of Federation space, the kind of place where regulations were more of a guideline than a rule. Someone owed him a favour there and wouldn’t ask questions about him wanting to strip a Kaplan F17 Speed Freighter of its former identity for what remained of his credits and the promise of a favour owed in return. 

“What do you wanna call this thing?” his contact asked.

If I’m going to drown in alcohol and misery and end up in prison for theft, he reasoned, I may as well drown at the hands of a mermaid.

And so it was that Cristóbal Ríos found himself Captain of La Sirena.

The effort of erasing every shred of La Sirena’s former identity and ownership turned out to be both costly and unnecessary, because her owner had long since been snuffed out of existence, and his pursuers had their bounty. But, it was many anxious, paranoid months before Raffi was able to confirm whether they were still on anyone’s radar, and Ríos finally learned that they weren’t.  

Task number two for Raffi (after sobering up), was to sort out the Emergency Holograms that had been driving them both mad. 

As messed up and paranoid as they both were, the EMH kept popping up at annoyingly frequent intervals. She managed to fix the coding to override their protocols so that they could easily be deactivated, task unaccomplished.

Unfortunately for Ríos, letting her do that turned out to be a much bigger mistake than stealing the freighter.

La bruja skinned every damn one of them as a version of him, but with different (and frankly fucking irritating) personality quirks and accents! 

When he confronted her about it, the first time she saw him really angry, she shrugged and told him that his was the only body available to holoscan (which raised a whole lot of other questions that she wouldn’t answer), and he could always get them reskinned later. 

Mentirosa.

He’d tried on multiple occasions, but she’d slipped a bug into the code that prevented it, and with official channels closed, and limited credits available, he couldn’t afford to start from scratch and have all their coding upgraded. Maldito sea, he actually needed them.

The truth was that Raffi had been pretty damn mad with him for disposing of the last of her drugs and forcing her into withdrawal, and they both knew it. She hadn’t realised quite how badly being forced to interact with different versions of himself would piss him off – or how much she’d enjoy it – but if she was honest… 

Well, watching them push his buttons and seeing him lose his cool and descend into a torrent of Spanish curses, was fine entertainment for Raffi.

Cristóbal Ríos, however, was not amused.

That might have been the end of their friendship.

But… (to be continued)

That’s about as far as I’ve got to date, but there will be more to come as I develop more of the chaotic-sister, depressive-brother, kindred spirits backstory. 

Disclaimer: I’m a Cabrera fan, not a Trekkie, so I apologise for any unintended navigational errors. I’ve done a bit of delving into canon, but it’s a complex universe to traverse when you’ve been out of it since the 90s! I’ll post on AO3 when I’ve plucked up the courage to boldly go to where I might get shot down! ;-)

[tanadrin]

Reordberend

(part 25 of 30; first; previous; next)

The rest of the journey passed with little conversation, but now the silence was more comfortable. Katherine mulled over the conundrum of how to get the elders to listen to her. She watched Leofe, as they walked, and tried to imagine what it must have been like to have been born in the Valleys, to have grown up here amid the ice and stones. It was difficult, to say the least.

They spent the night at the mouth of the valleys, and in the morning they switched to snowshoes, to gently descend the long glacial tongue to the surface of the ice shelf below; from there, it was a straight shot across McMurdo Sound to Mount Erebus, which loomed now in the darkness only as an absence of stars. The open ice was the most treacherous part of the journey: cracks could open up here, as the ice shelf was squeezed through the narrow passage of the Sound, big enough to swallow you whole, and they had to go carefully. They spent two nights camping on the open ice, crammed into one tiny tent, huddled together for warmth. On the morning of the third day, though, they found their path forward blocked by an enormous crevasse, which forced them to go south, to try to circle around it. Eventually, they realized, it ran all the way to the coast of the island; the quickest thing to do was to head straight for McMurdo Station, and go overland up the mountain.

At first, Katherine was kind of excited to see the ruins. Once upon a time, McMurdo Station had been a major scientific and transport hub for a huge part of Antarctica, a waystation on the way to the South Pole. But it had been abandoned a long time ago, and it was one of the few old scientific sites that hadn’t been reclaimed by the Antarctic Authority. On closer inspection, though, Katherine could safely say it was the creepiest place on the continent. It didn’t help that the aurorae australis were glowing a sickly green hue as they approached. Skeletal buildings, ravaged as much by the People’s salvage as by the weather, stood out the slopes, and old radar domes cracked and open to the sky. They spent the night in a mostly-intact building on the edge of the base, and Katherine could have sworn she heard what sounded like animals scurrying around in the ruins.

The actual mountain ascent was not so difficult, although it took another two days. The People had cut a path on the western side of the mountain, so they approached from that side. The ground was icy, but the weather was good. “We would have to wait for it to clear if it was not,” Leofe said. “You cannot climb the mountain in fog.”

On the second day of climbing, by midafternoon--right when Katherine’s legs were threatening to give up for good--Leofe held out her hand to stop Katherine. “We’re here,” she said. The last hundred meters or so were up wide stone steps, which ended at a great tunnel mouth, bored straight into the mountainside. “We go carefully from here,” Leofe said. “If the wind is bad, dangerous fumes can rise from the crater.”

“This is where you build your temple?”

“If the wind is favorable--well, you’ll see.”

The tunnel ran straight for fifty meters; it opened out onto a wide porch that had been cut back into the side of the crater, with a protective stone overhang. Rough pillars supported it, and pairs of steps off to either side led up to narrow paths around the inside of the crater rim.

“Jesus Christ,” Katherine said. “How was this place built?”

The view was clear, for the moment; clumps of steam or vapor clung to the stony slope here and there, gases leaking from vents that led to Mount Erebus’s fiery interior. Far, far below, and almost at the other side of the crater, there was a sullen red glow visible from within a cloud of smoke.

“Is that--”

“Molten stone, yes. The fire rises to the surface here; it is often restless.”

“Is this safe?” Katherine asked.

Leofe rolled her eyes. “It’s a volcano.”

Katherine walked to the edge of the stone balcony. Here and there--possibly at regular intervals, although it was hard to tell because of the clouds--great pillars with tops shaped like animal or human heads gazed out over the scene. There were steps that led further down into the crater, although Katherine couldn’t see how far. It was an austere and threatening landscape; Katherine could also appreciate its beauty. A bright aurora glowed in the sky overhead, illuminating the whole thing in pale light. Katherine could see why they called it the Fane of Awe.

How long had it taken to build this place? Even with handheld laser cutters, the stone pillars had had to be hauled up here, had to be raised in the smoking crater, when the fires were low and the wind was strong enough to dissipate the volcanic fumes. The climb up the mountain had been exhausting enough unencumbered. Katherine couldn’t imagine hauling enormous blocks of shaped stone up the slope as well. How would you even begin to do that? Or maybe they had quarried it close by, but that was still heavy work. It would have been many, many years of labor. Seasonal, probably. Done in summer. The tunnel itself and the porch of stone would have taken even longer to cut through, but the evidence of her experience so far was that the People were patient, and were not afraid of difficult labor.

She found Leofe back near the entrance, kneeling down and taking some small objects out of her pack.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I have some… things I must do.”

“Sure. The rites. Wulf said. I’ll, uh, come back later.” Katherine thought about exploring the crater, but she didn’t know much about volcanoes, and she didn’t like the look of the clouds coming up from the ground. Instead, she went back out, and decided to go for a walk up near the crater rim. The ground here was steep, although not terribly treacherous. She tested each step carefully, bracing herself with her staff in case her footing failed. After another thirty minutes or so, she was at the crater edge. 

The lava lake was still visible, far below, although partly shrouded in clouds. McMurdo Sound was a pale swathe of ice, ten or fifteen kilometers off. The mountains along the coast were just barely visible. The wind here was fierce, bitterly cold, colder than anything she’d felt in her life. But God in Heaven, it was a beautiful view. In some ways, perhaps, she had shared the experiences of the People, clutching as a child after something sacred in a world in which the sacrosanct seemed to hold little meaning. But in other ways, their perspective was completely different. Katherine’s experience of church was the plain, low meeting house, whose only adornment might be a picture of Jesus on the wall. Simple wooden benches, a hard concrete floor, a plain white exterior. Some of the meeting houses in Sand Mountain didn’t even have running water. God--awe, if you like--was an internal experience in those places. A thing you contemplated, which rose up within your mind and your heart, which grew out of your faith and your desire to feel it. Here, though, the sacred was an immutable and implacable fact of the world. It would be here, whether you cared to experience it or not. And if you did, it would shout itself forth from every hill and every stone and every patch of ice, and it would overwhelm you. Even the great cathedrals of old Europe could not match this. They were in comparison the feeble attempts of human hands to imitate what nature had been doing for millions of years. Or billions. To imitate a thing which shot through every atom of the universe, every star and every planet, the fractal majesty of existence that you only really appreciated when you stood in a place where survival was almost, almost--but not quite--impossible.

Katherine had read once, in her high school science textbook, that there was a rock they had once found in Australia that was four and a half billion years old. It was so old that it had formed when the surface of the Earth was half-molten, when the air was still toxic, when the oceans had just begun to form. There was a picture. And something about that picture suddenly made everything the book was talking about feel real, in a way that dry numbers like “four and a half billion” never could on their own. A sense of the enormous weight of time had staggered her, and she had stared at the photograph, trying to understand. For millions of years afterward, the Earth had no continents, only craggy islands of rock that had not yet accreted into the ancient cratons. Even once life emerged, for three and a half billion years--for three quarters of the span of life of the entire planet--it had been single-celled organisms confined to the seas. If you had been an observer on the ancient Earth, fixed in place at the dawn of time and forced to observe the slow march of geologic time across the surface, then for the overwhelming majority of the world’s history, for a span of time longer than the human mind was capable of understanding on any level, the world had been empty. Barren. Bereft of voices. Bereft of names. Silent provinces, whole nameless countries, continents, cataclysms had come and gone, with no one to see them, no one to name them, no one to record their passage. And only late--in the last five hundred million years or so--had a riot of life burst forth. And only in the last eyeblink, since the retreat of the glaciers, had humans swept across the world to give all these things names and meaning and histories, but of all these places, Antarctica had been empty the longest. And even then, for a long time, we had come and gone as phantoms, she thought; not until the People came did they begin to let their names and their stories sink into the Earth. Not until the People came did anyone call Antarctica home.

She stood there as long as she could stand it--ten minutes, maybe, no more--before making her way back down the slope to the entrance of the fane.

By the time she returned, Leofe was apparently done with her business. She had set up their tent in a sheltered alcove in the passageway, and Katherine was terribly grateful they would at least be out of the wind tonight. They built a small fire on the stone floor, and warmed their hands for a little while, before making dinner, and settling down to bed.

Katherine lay awake that night, listening to the wind howl against the tunnel entrance. It felt wrong, somehow, to try to sleep at the summit of an active volcano. The kind of act of hubris the Greek gods would punish you for.

“Leofe?” she said quietly. “Leofe. Are you asleep?”

“Grnk.”

Katherine rolled over, doing her best not to jostle her bunkmate. She lay there a little longer.

“Hey Leofe. Do you want to come with me in the spring? We can leave together. If you want.”

The wind howled louder.

“Leofe?”

“Hbble.”

Katherine closed her eyes, and did her best to sleep. Her dreams that night were jumbled, and the next morning all that she could remember was that they were filled with fire.