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buzzlift · 5 months

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10 Important Measuring Instruments for Different Industries

Explore the world of precision with our comprehensive guide on 10 important measuring instruments for various industries. From hygrometers to sound level meters, discover the tools that ensure accuracy and efficiency in your processes. Elevate your understanding of measuring instruments with our in-depth insights.

#Sound Level Meters #Measuring Instruments #Hygrometers #Solar Meters #Co Transmitters #Light Meters #Manometers #Anemometers #Lux Meters #Moisture Meters #Air Quality Meters

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antichrister · 7 months

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my phone jack is fucked, so i got a bluetooth transmitter for my headphones so i could still listen to music, and now the transmitter has died and won't turn on so wtf do i do 😭 im autistic i need music

#personal #literally got the transmitter cos i can't get my phone fixed yet #was gonna get another sd card THEN fix thr jack #but now. no music? at all?

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ghouljams · 6 months

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You’ve made allusions to an android AU, may I venture a hc?

König (my beloved) is the most likely out of all of the guys to just. Literally not have a face. This boy was built exclusively for heavy combat - he’s probably got five cameras for eyes on a composite ceramic face. There is no synthskin. Briareos from APPLESEED vibes.

OK Android au is a Ghost au because that's my husband. I love the idea of König as a heavy duty mech. Let's run through what my thoughts on the au are and then never speak of it again

So Ghost as an android. Military grade, top of the line. I mean literally irreplaceable, no one knows how they made him, where he came from, or how he's able to think and do the things he does. It's almost unbelievable. You, the 141's mechanic, don't believe it. You've fixed up plenty of androids, you'd rerouted circuit boards and rewritten enough code to know that Ghost should not be doing the things he's doing. You think he's thinking. He shouldn't be thinking. Not the way he seems to be, at least.

Androids think, to a certain degree, but artificial intelligence is... well it's not exactly real. It's pattern recognition and computers running simulations. It's math. Complicated math, but still math. Ghost isn't doing math, he's making decisions. The 141 lets him out, free range, in the field and trusts him to think and act within the parameters- Fuck do they even set parameters for him?

He comes to see you the same way the men go to see the doctor. Reluctantly. Another thing he shouldn't be doing, that he's hiding from the rest of the unit, feeling. That's what first tipped you off that he was thinking, the way he lingered in your doorway when other androids would be marched in by their COs. Ghost stood in the door to your workshop and hesitated, like he didn't want to see you, or was hoping you wouldn't be in. When you'd made eye contact with his cameras, the red glow behind sculpted bone, he'd marched right in and sat down in front of your work bench.

"Need some maintenance," He's said, the transmitters for his voice box warm and rumbling behind the slight static. You'd never heard false vocal cords like that.

He's a wonder of mechanics. His back plate is dented, the synth-skin charred and bullet ridden, and when you take too long poking around trying to figure out how to get it off he reaches back and presses a button at the top of his spine. The black composite plates lining his spine -what a human would call a spine- release with a hiss and the back plates on either side pop up with a quiet click. You could spend hours looking at the motors running his muscles, like cogs in a clock. They spin silently, just on the edge of warm when you touch them, expanding his synthetic muscles almost like he's breathing. A cooling system you assume, or exhaust exchange. You grab a few tools from your bench and tug your safety goggles on to get started.

It's strange, you feel like a proper doctor working on him. Ghost sits like a rock for you, but he's sitting, he's active. You glance at his face like you'll catch him flinching away from the laser you drag against powder burns, or think he'll roll his shoulder to test the fit when you tighten one of the millions of tiny screws. You'll have to come up with something new to use on the tight coils of synthetic muscle he has. You've never seen anything like it, you'll need something custom if he comes in with anything bigger than a bullet wound. He's patient as you reshape his back plate, banging the dent out and soldering a patch over the hole.

"You'll need a new one of these," You tell him. He makes a noise almost like a hum, you chalk it up to motors whirring. Strange when they'd been so quiet before.

"Battle scars," He jokes, and you freeze, "That's what Soap calls them." He covers, but- He made a joke. He's covering, it's a good cover, but- He made a joke. Androids don't make jokes, they approximate jokes.

You're still thinking about it when he leaves. You're a good mechanic, a great one, but you can't explain Ghost away as subroutines and ai. You stare down at your diagnostic report, your repair report. You hesitate and mark "functioning optimally" before jotting down the repairs you made. It's probably nothing. No reason to snitch on the 141's prized android just because you're a little spooked.

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autumnmobile12 · 4 months

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Now that Sir Pentious has been redeemed, do you think Heaven is going to let Charlie and co. know that her hotel works and sinners can in fact find redemption?

Or do you think they're going to 'shelve that topic' until they figure out what's going on--*cough, cough* cover up that information because they fear it will cause a panic or something, upsetting the balance of their familiar order, and all that?

Because I kinda really want his arc in Season 2 to be a Prison Break style quest of him and Emily teaming up and desperately trying to find a way to contact Hell and let his friends know that he's alive and well, so to speak. Maybe secretly building a transmitter or something to communicate with Alastor's radio tower.

#hazbin hotel #sir pentious #season 2 theories #redemption #charlie morningstar #emily #sera #alastor #redeemed #repentious

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mindblowingscience · 11 months

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The main limiting factor for solar power is intermittency, meaning it can only collect power when sufficient sunlight is available. To address this, scientists have spent decades researching space-based solar power (SBSP), where satellites in orbit would collect power 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, without interruption. To develop the technology, researchers with the Space Solar Power Project (SSPP) at Caltech recently completed the first successful wireless power transfer using the Microwave Array for Power-transfer Low-orbit Experiment (MAPLE). MAPLE was developed by a Caltech team led by Ali Hajimiri, the Bren Professor of Electrical Engineering and Medical Engineering and the co-director of the SSPP. MAPLE is one of three key technologies tested by the Space Solar Power Demonstrator (SSPD-1). This platform consists of an array of flexible, lightweight microwave transmitters controlled by custom electronic chips. The demonstrator was built using low-cost silicon technologies designed to harvest solar energy and beam it to desired receiving stations worldwide.

#science #stem #space #renewable energy #solar energy

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niqhtlord01 · 2 years

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Humans are weird: The human test. AKA: Paranoia

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

“This is survey team six entering atmosphere; touchdown in twenty at target location.”

With his report finished Xinth flipped off the transmitter and went back to bringing down his ship and crew safely. After making back to back landings within the last twenty rotations on six other worlds, Xinth was comfortable that this one wouldn’t be any different.

“We dying today or did I fill out my company life insurance for nothing?”

“You should know by now that when I’m at the helm every flight is safety guaranteed.” Xinth remarked with a smirk.

No sooner had the words left his mouth did the entire ship lurch down some twenty feet before co-pilot Tiktik reached passed him and flicked a on the stabilizer units.

“Safety guaranteed you said?”

Xinth grunted but said nothing as he leveled off the ship again.

The rest of the descent went without trouble and the ship finally came to a gentle landing in a large open clearing. Xinth looked out over a seemingly endless horizion of tall thin red grass like stalks that waved in the wind.

“Let’s go make some money.” Tiktik said over his shoulder as he unstrapped himself and left the cockpit. Xinth followed after taking a quick break to stretch his limbs. Nothing wore him out more than the tediousness of entry landings and he could feel his life essence returning with each crack of his muscles.

Feeling refreshed he passed through several pressure doors and made his way to the central hold where the rest of the team was waiting for him.

Standing atop the walkway lining the upper areas of the central hold he could easily see his entire crew as they were getting ready. Tiktik was next to Yon as he loaded up the mobile transport with the survey gear they would need. Desh and Mim were going over the most recent orbital scans to confirm there were no hazardous weather patterns that would endanger the team while they were off ship. Most importantly of all he saw Anthony tightening up his survival suit near one of the lower hold doorframes.

Taking a mental headcount as he saw each of their faces Xinth paused for a moment before realizing he was missing his newest crewmember. He was just bout to callout to Tiktik about their location when the doorway beside Anthony opened and in walked the devil himself.

Jakhaut had joined the crew shortly after their last survey when they returned to the ship to offload the data. Hi bulk barely fit through the doorframe as he entered. To Xinth’s amusement he could heat the rookie grunting as he squeezed himself into the room. It wasn’t that Jakhaut was fat; more that his muscles were so large that it was a miracle that he could fit through any doorway to begin with.

After several grueling moments of struggling he was finally able to push his way into the hold. Anthony was so focused on getting his suit in working order that he did not see the lumbering alien suddenly now thrust into the room and Jakhaut pushed him aside with a casual shove.

Anthony was thrown to the floor by the shove but Jakhaut merely looked down in disgust. “Human.” The brute muttered, the word dripping from his mouth like toxic slime as he continued by without a single look back. Not one to be pushed around Anthony stood back up and made to follow Jakhaut’s attention when Xinth spoke up.

“Alright everyone,” he said calmly to forestall what would soon be a brawl between the two, “this is our final survey and then we can return home for our fat paychecks and even fatter loved ones.”

A halfhearted cheer came from the crew as Xinth continued.

“Same deal as before; we deploy the scanning gear four kilometers from here, gather the readings and then head to the next marker in the southern hemisphere.”

“Any…..trouble?”

Xinth looked over to see Desh speaking through his breathing tubes. It never was easy to understand him, and from what Xinth knew it was even more painful for the Desh to speak at all; so when he did say something it was often on point.

The other crew members all looked up to him in concern but he shook his head.

“Orbital scans detected no life signs along our path to the scanning site so we I don’t expect any trouble.”

To his lack of surprise none of the crew looked convinced. “However, we will of course follow standard company policy before beginning the survey.”

He motioned towards Anthony as the loading doors lurched loudly and slowly began lowering down to the surface. “If you would be so kind Mr. Anthony?” Xinth asked politely as he motioned toward the door.

“It’s what I’m paid for.” Anthony groaned before slowly treading in his heavy survival suit down the ramp. Out of the entire crew he was the only one to wear such a suit. Not because the environment of the planet was toxic to human or any of the other crew members of the survey team, but because his job was one of the most dangerous of them all.

Nearing the bottom of the ramp Anthony stopped just shy of touching the planet’s surface. The crew watched as the human tilted forward to look at the ground, then leaned back up to scan the surrounding sea of red grass. The plants were as tall as the ship and the wind made each one seem alive in the breeze.

With baited breath they watched as the lone human looked left and right several times silently. “What does the fleshling look for?” Jakhaut asked out loud, but the rest of the crew either glared at him or silenced him with a poignant “Shush!”

Five minutes passed before the human slowly began backing up the ramp; never taking his eyes off the swaying red grass around the ramp door.

“What’s the word, Anthony?” Xinth called down as the human backed into the center of the hold once more.

“Yeah,” Anthony began slowly, “fuck that shit sir.”

The crew looked up at Xinth who rattled his fingers along the guard rail. “You heard him, pack it up.”

With that the loading door began rising once more while the entire crew save Jakhaut kept close watch on it.

“So that’s it?” the newest crewmember blurted out. “The fleshling gets scared and we just skip the survey site?”

“No,” Xinth replied, “it means on Mr. Anthony’s recommendation that we skip the entire planet and return home.”

Utter bemusement was an understatement for the expression to befall Jakhauts face. He turned in disbelief to the rest of the crew as the loading door finally sealed shut once more and they all relaxed.

“You all are okay with this?” Jakhaut asked. “We will not get our full pay without this final survey.”

The crew shrugged and continued back to their stations while Tiktik and Yon began unloading the transport.

“Since its company policy we’ll still get something.” Tiktik replied as he hefted down the drilling array. “Not as much sure, but something is better than nothing.”

“What?” Jakhaut asked dumbfounded.

“Anthony….say……bad.” Desh spoke once more. “No…..go….if….bad.”

Hearing this Jakhaut shoved his way through the crew towards Anthony and hefted him easily into the air with his strong grip. “Then tell them it is good so I can be paid in full.” Jakhaut demanded as he held up Anthony like a rag doll.

“MR. JAKHAUT!”

Jakhaut looked from the human up towards the captain who had shouted. His hand was casually resting on a side arm at his waist while his other was tightly gripping the hand rail. The crew stood frozen, waiting for someone to do something.

Lowering Anthony to the deck, Jakhaut released him and took a step back from the human.

“Mr. Anthony I think that has been enough excitement for today.” Xinth said, his hand still resting on the pistol. “Go back to your quarters and get that stupid thing off; you look like a refrigeration unit with legs.” He motioned to some of the other crew members. “ Desh, Min, go with him to help; Mr. Jakhaut, a word if you would.”

As the pair escorted the human out of the hold Jakhaut scaled the ladders up to Xinth. The gangway groaned under him as he walked upon it but thankfully it was more than capable of sustaining the both of them.

“I know you are new to this line of work,” Xinth began quietly, the sharpness of his tone enough to cut through steel, “but the first rule of any survey ship worth a damn is to never, EVER, threaten the human crew mate.”

Jakhaut was about to ask why when Xinth held up a hand for silence. Clearly the captain was in no mood for a debate.

“You can call it a sixth sense, or telepathy, or even some gift from their stupid floating cloud god; but humans possess the keen ability to sense danger even when all other reasoning says there is none at all.”

Jakhaut looked unconvinced. “I don’t have time to explain every situation a human has saved their crew from unseen death but you should be smart enough to realize that if the company deems every ship to have at least one human crew member, and that it is acceptable to abandon a survey if said human feels uneasy about a survey site; then clearly putting trust in a human is not as crazy as it sounds.”

He leaned forward and whispered “So if you ever lay a hand on our human again, I can promise you this crew will happily leave your scaly thorax on the nearest planet with no means of escape; do I make myself understood?”

Jakhaut nodded in silence and the captain finally took his hand off the pistol. “Good,” Xinth spoke, “now go and help store the gear; we’ll be taking off shortly.” ------------------------------------

Several dozen rotations passed since that event and Jakhaut had kept to the captain’s order. He ignored the human as much as possible, even going so far as to exit the same corridor as the human Anthony.

He was sitting in the mess hall one day when Xinth walked in and dropped a data pad in front of Jakhaut.

“Read.’ Was all he said, and so Jakhaut picked up the pad and began scrolling through the contents.

It was a report from an intergalactic rescue team that had been dispatched to the same planet Jakhaut had thrown his tantrum. A rival survey company had landed, one that did not include humans on every ship, and began work on surveying the planet when they were attacked by predator like creatures.

The report stated that the team was swarmed from all sides when they attempted to navigate through the tall red grass to their first site. The predators disguised themselves as the tall grass and would strike down and impale several of the survey team before hoisting their bodies high into the air as their liquids drained down. Out of a team of eight only one made it back to the ship where they promptly locked themselves in and sent out a distress beacon.

Finishing the report Jakhaut looked up to see the captain still looking down at him. His expression carried no snark for being proven right, nor empathy to show he was teaching a lesson.

Jakhaut nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing. No words were needed to show his understanding.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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visit-new-york · 1 year

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Why is the MetLife Building famous? MetLife Building It was advertised as the world's largest commercial office space by square footage at its opening, with 2.4 million square feet (220,000 m2) of usable office space. As of November 2022, the MetLife Building remains one of the 100 tallest buildings in the United States.

Can you enter the MetLife Building? You can enter The MetLife Building from anywhere in Grand Central Station but the entrance closest to The Metlife Building entrance is on 45th Street between Lexington and Vanderbilt.

What offices are in the MetLife Building? In addition to being the official headquarters of the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company, the MetLife Building houses a number of other major firms, including the headquarters of Dreyfus Corporation, Knight Vinke, the wealth and investment management division of Barclays, the largest office of Greenberg Traurig, DNB, CB Richard Ellis, Gibson, Dunn & Crutcher, Hunton & Williams, Computer Sciences Corporation, Winston & Strawn, Paul Hastings, and Lend Lease Corporation on Level 9. In addition the building serves as the U.S. Headquarters for Mitsui & Co. (USA) Inc, the American subsidiary of Japan’s largest trading company, BNP Paribas Investment Partners and its American subsidiary Fischer, Francis, Trees and Watts.

NOAA Weather Radio Station KWO35, a NOAA transmitter station, is located atop the building.

Impressive tenant roster includes: There are about 400 tenants throughout Graybar’s 31 floors Bank of America Barclays Bovis Lend Lease CB Richard Ellis CSC (Computer Software Corp) DNB Nord Bank Fischer Francis Trees & Watts Hunton & Williams IgnitionOne Korn Ferry International Magnitude Capital CBRE Global Investors Merrill Lynch Dreyfus Corporation MetLife Met Life Gibson Dunn Novus Partners Mitsui & Co. Gibson Dunn & Crutcher Swarovski BNY Mellon Paul Hastings Winston & Strawn Federal Home Loan Mortgage Corporation UBS J. Fitzgibbons Metropolitan Life Insurance Company Preferred Office Properties Freddie Mac Oppenheimer & Co. Nor Bank ASA Mitsui Carr Workplaces Medical Properties Trust

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senkusphone · 1 year

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@aresagainstthemachine asked so this one is for you. Video of it working at the end.

Here's the one project I am so proud of I named my entire blog after it.

Back in 2020, while I was stuck at home with few pleasant things to do, I decided to bring this contraption to life.

Only recently had I gotten into this inspiring series called Dr. Stone, and when I saw them make this device in the anime, I knew it was my divine calling to build it, for I had prior experience building circuits with vacuum tubes, an interest that was fostered greatly by my late grandfather when I was a boy. It had been because of the stories he'd tell me that I built my first crystal radio back then (which took me about 4 years of trial and error). Now, people had ''built'' the phone on youtube at least once before, but I was not satisfied with what they did, when they used parts that were too advanced and didn't even get it to transmit a voice, only to pick up radio stations. So I tried to go beyond while being as accurate as possible to the level of technology they had, I was seeking to achieve more with less

Making something that picks a radio signal is relatively easy, the challenge was making it also produce its own signal so it could truly be used as a phone (or more accurately, like a walkie talkie), and I restricted myself to use the most primitive tubes I had, the ones most similar to what old Kaseki would have made.

(Happy birthday to Kaseki by the way, February 9th) I started out using this beautiful Western Electric 262-A tube. This general purpose triode was developed around 1928 by the Bell Telephone company and one of the things it was known to be used for, was in cinema projectors to amplify the sound from the early talkie films. I think that's interesting enough to mention.

It wasn't long until my experiments showed great promise, eventually I moved on to a type 45 vacuum tube, another triode which is more powerful as a transmitter than the 262-A yet its construction is much more primitive. This tube is very similar to what Senku & Co. would've had.

I started building the definitive device, simultaneously laying a plan to combine a transmitter and receiver in the same unit using just one tube, a task that required this one part to perform four different duties (because I hadn't read the manga, and I didn't know the final unit they dispatched used two tubes instead of just one). On new year's eve at the end of 2020, the circuit was broadcasting One Small Step by Lillian Weinberg, loud and clear to a radio across the room.

You can get a recording of that in the link below as Tumblr won't let me upload it (yes I am using discord to host files, it also works for hosting images for your fanfics on Ao3, you're welcome).

The wooden circuit board was wired with homemade wires, made by cutting a sheet of copper into strips, and wrapping them in cotton and thread. A relay is used to switch the phone from receiver mode to transmitter mode with the push of a button.

Then the coils were calculated and wound, including the iconic large transmit coil

but would this coil that was made to look like the one in the series, be suitable to repeat what I had achieved in my experiments, would it resonate and produce the signal?

yes

I intended originally to have this project done before season 2 of Dr. Stone started, and put out a youtube video, but that ended up not happening. Still, the unit finally came together, and the plastic housing was a tupper with the rim cut off, painted orange and applied lettering.

By now season 2 had already ended, I believe, or it was soon to. Before I painted the case, I had to have one definitive test, to see that my creation demonstrated the functionality it promised, and now I had just the right voice to do it.

The final circuit was based on the work of radio pioneer Edwin Howard Armstrong, who was one of the fellows who invented the wireless world we know it today.

I turned the switch, and watched as the tungsten filament in the tube started glowing red. First I adjusted the receive coil and a radio station came in on the crystal earpiece, then, with a radio receiver in tune nearby, I started the sound I wanted to send over the air, and I pressed the transmit button...

It's true, it can be done. Today, there are people still alive who saw the day when the cutting edge of electronics was at this level. How far we've come from these baby steps, over such a short time.

Isn't science awesome?

I still haven't built a second unit.

#dr. stone #senku's phone #dcst #drst #drstone #dr stone #art #storytime #long post #happy birthday kaseki #science project

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meshlasolus · 2 years

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House Of Memories (14/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, otherwise nothing lol

Summary: After learning that your senses have been correct, and Obi-Wan is truly in danger, Padme, Anakin, and yourself go to rescue him from the planet Geonosis.

A/n: okay i kinda like this part but still kinda a filler, next part will be good stuff

Words: 2.1k

Anakin came back the next morning, when it was still early, and the twin suns were barely peaking over the edge of the sand on the horizon line. He came bearing nothing but his mother's body, which to everyone's dismay, brought an intense darkness in the atmosphere. You could feel it, the dark that coursed through his veins, branching out into the air and trying to intoxicate any being it could. It was powerful, and you nearly lost your footing for how strongly it impacted you.

There was a simple funeral, family only, with the exception to both you and Padme.

You were filled with a sorrow over the woman you didn't think you would have. You felt connected to her in a way you couldn't explain, like you'd known her, and her gentle motherly love and kindness. You remembered suddenly why you felt this way. All the times you helped Anakin to sleep, removing the bad dreams from his mind, usually of her, you were able to protect the good memories and thoughts he had about her, seeing them vaguely in his mind whenever your signature brushed his. She meant so much to him, and you knew instantly the for the sudden darkness in his presence. You knew Padme and the others were blind to its feeling, its power, but you weren't. You wanted to speak with him about it at least once before you left the planet, but upon R-2's arrival, his beeps and whistles going off in a nervous rant about getting back to the ship, you knew it would have to wait.

You sensed it again, the pull on your signature, coming from far off in the galaxy, begging for help but not letting you connect yourself to it. You ran to the ship ahead of the others, but they joined you upon seeing your haste. You immediately pulled up the transmission that R-2 had been going out about, and as sense of relief rushed over you at the sight of Obi-Wan on the hologram stand.

"Anakin, my long-range transmitter has been knocked out, retransmit this message to Coruscant," he began, and Padme turned, pushing the button that would forward the holo-message to the Jedi temple. "I have tracked the bounty hunter Jango Fett to the droid foundries on Geonosis. The trade federation is to take delivery of a droid army, here, and it is clear that Viceroy Gunnray is behind the assassination attempts on senator Amidala. The Commerce Guilds and Corporate Alliance have both pledged their armies to Count Dooku and are forming an... Wait..."

Your heart began pounding quickly and your eyes widened in fear at the sight of him activating his saber, deflecting the shots of a battle droid, which soon came into view upon the hologram. Your sense of unease returned at an alarmingly fast rate, and you gripped the arm of your seat to try and keep your composure. Padme knew with just one look like you were about to combust.

You completely blocked out anything happening around you for a moment, including Mace Windu's instructions on what you were to do to protect the senator. Anakin answered on both of your behalf, before ending the transmission.

"They'll never make it in time, they half to come halfway across the galaxy."

Padme's words did their job on filling you in for what you missed the last few seconds. You were controlled now by your feelings, and not your right mind, you wouldn't stand for it.

"Anakin, we have to go get him, Geonosis is less than a parsec away," you said, already moving to the pilot's seat, next to Padme who occupied co-pilot. She would support your decision, but as you suspected, Anakin didn't.

"If he's still alive."

Of course, your fellow padawan and his undying optimism would strike again.

"Ani, are you going to just sit here and let him die?" Padme furrowed her brows and turned her seat to face him as he paced the confines of the ship.

You didn't care what would happen, you would leave them here and find Obi-Wan yourself. You prepared the ship, regardless of the orders you'd been given only moments ago. You were not a soldier, you were a Jedi, and followed the ways of the force. The force was pulling you to your master, and you were going to follow it.

"He's your friend, your mentor, he's-"

"He's like my father," Anakin replied, his voice changed, and you sensed a small bit of that darkness you'd felt in him earlier from his anger. Anger leads to hate, and hate leads to destruction. "But you heard Master Windu, he gave me strict orders to stay here."

"Anakin if you refuse to come, I suggest to you that you take Padme back to the Lars home and keep her safe there, but I'm taking this ship, and I'm going to Geonosis. With, or without you. Your choice," you said to him, not mean, but firm in your tone. You had never been so driven in your life to put yourself in danger over another person, and though it may be due to attachment, you felt pride in how confident you were right now. You hardly ever were.

Anakin didn't speak, just looked down, and so you turned back around, preparing the controls and such before it was time for him to make a final decision.

"Master Windu gave you strict orders to protect me," Padme said, looking at you before looking at him. "And I'm going with her, to help Obi-Wan."

"If you're planning on protecting her, you'll just have to come along," you said in addition to her statement.

Padme had also turned around, helping you to get the ship in the air, while Anakin smirked behind the two of you. He'd be damned not to admit it, but the women he'd met in this galaxy were some of the strongest beings ever known. He was always so empowered by watching yours and Padme's strength, though both of you were strong in different ways, with Padme being more resilient as a politician, and you being physically more of a worthy opponent. You both did your duties with strength and pure will.

Once the ship was in the air, and heading towards the correct destination, you handed over the controls to Anakin, knowing he was a far better pilot than you were. That was something you would need to work on in the future if you were to ever go on a starfighter mission with your master. Of course, you need a master to go on missions with, and if you were unable to save Obi-Wan, you were unsure of what you would do.

You sat in one of the small chambers of the ship, leaning your head against the wall and closing your eyes for only a moment. You'd thought that maybe that would bring you peace, and your head would dull out the noise that echoed loudly in the force. You shot your eyes open the very next second, realizing that, no, it did not make it better, only worse. The noise and pressure that weighed on you was heavy, and you supposed your deep connection to the force, and its way of using you as an instrument were the reason for that. Jedi were the force made living beings, but consulars were always known to be deeply connected to it in ways the other Jedi weren't as gifted with.

"Hey," Padme sat beside you in the confined space, and though there was little room, you couldn't seem to mind her company. Her presence was soothing. "This must be the reason for your-"

"Yes," you cut her off, but not to be rude. You didn't want to hear another person say it when you had been feeling and thinking about it all day and yesterday. It plagued you to no end and you wished it away, but that wouldn't happen until you knew Obi-Wan's fate was secure on the safe side of things. "I hate admitting when I'm afraid, but right now it's the only feeling I can seem to have."

"It's perfectly normal to be afraid. It's our human nature to be scared when someone we love is in danger."

She picked up your hand, which was nervously fidgeting by your robes beside you. She squeezed it and smiled at you reassuringly, and you let out a deep breath, trying to remember how to combat this feeling that swarmed in your stomach. Obi-Wan had taught you many ways, in fact, to sure yourself of the ache that your anxiety caused you in situations like this... but truthfully there had never been a situation like this. The time when you were captured, and tortured in the grasp of Count Dooku, it had been you going through the pain and suffering. You couldn't bear to let Obi-Wan endure that. It would hurt you far worse than anything you had to deal with yourself.

"If I can't save him, I will never forgive myself," you looked up at her with eyes full of tears, yet to be spilled onto your cheeks, which were growing red by the second. "If he dies-"

"We will find that before that happens. We have to believe that he is still alive."

"I know he's alive, I can feel it," you told her, and she breathed a breath of relief. It was a tricky thing, yours and Obi-Wan's force bond. It was something that could either bring peace to you, or alternatively, anguish. It would only be a matter of time, and you'd hoped that you would not fail to arrive before they tried to kill him. "My biggest fear has always been that I would fail him, and now that his life is on the line, I can't seem to control myself anymore. Using my feelings has always been a useful tool in battle, but now I sense they have taken me over, and are using me instead."

Padme listened to the words with great focus, trying her hardest to come up with a wise piece of advice, but she had never been one to use the force, or even know much about it. She could only offer you her encouragement, which is what she did.

"You are stronger than almost anyone I've met, and I know you will make the right decisions when the time comes. I'm sure by the end, Obi-Wan will be back by your side where he belongs."

You smiled and nodded in thanks. As young as she was, she was wise beyond her years, as you'd hoped to be by the time you became a Jedi Knight.

Geonosis was a drab planet, not drabber than Tatooine, thank the maker. It was still not a most wonderful placed for your usual Jedi attire. Any place where the suns shined onto a desert was a place you likely did not want to be, but under the current circumstances, you'd do your time here.

The base on this planet was not just a base, but a factory, which you'd vaguely remembered about from Obi-Wan's message.

"Where are you going?" Anakin asked you, trying to make his own way through the place, with the droids and Padme following close on his tracks.

"Wherever the force takes me," you raised an eyebrow, about to go down a pathway which seemed like the way to a trap, but you felt a pull coming from that direction. "Go ahead without me, if it's a dead end, I'll catch up."

You knew it wasn't going to be a dead end, and so did Anakin, but he nodded anyway, continuing on his own path. Dead ends were rare among the Jedi, because as a Jedi, you can use your lightsaber to simply create another path with seconds. There was no such thing as a permanent dead end.

You felt the pull get stronger as you went, but before you knew it, you were backing away out of sight. Droids were pacing the hallway, and it was a wonder you went unnoticed just now. You were hoping to make a diversion somehow and looked around to find some sort of object. There were processing units with manning droids at the end of the hall, and you tried, as discretely as possible, to make it malfunction. You should have known, in all of your years of training, you were never discrete. The droid's mechanical arms went failing about, and within seconds they were distracting the other droids in the hall. You snuck passed them and soon gained access to a doorway, which of course was sealed shut and there was no way in without an access code.

"Kriff," you said, feeling the presence you'd been looking for this whole time. It was right on the other side of this door. He was on the other side of this door. You closed your eyes and tried to focus, but you were quickly interrupted with a hand on your shoulder.

"Lovely to see you again, young Padawan."

Count Dooku.

Tags:

@spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax @mephistominion @honestlywtfisgoingon @anakinskywalkerog @mandiiellen @je--a-n @guyinachair27 @avenger5-a55emble @amelia-song-pond @kaminanii @the-abyss-of-fandoms @queenofnightdreamland @world-dominating-kitty @mandowhatnow @ella-error505 @annahalo @infinity-witch

#obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x padawan #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #obi wan kenobi show #ewan mcgregor #hayden christensen #darth vader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker

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agent-8449 · 7 months

Text

Agent Logos CJverse chatroom summary.... REAL!!!!

Clears throat. This may be a long post, be warned. Actually, yeah. Bwoink.

The OG AU: Voice of Reason

Whole: Dead as fuck. Sort of. Way before the events of the comic, their Whole 'died'. We refer to not-dead Whole OOCly as 'Hope', but he also sort of exists afterwards as a figment of himself-- the 'shadow' called Cast. Cast can only speak in song lyrics, and currently resides in... the TMAverse, as a cursed item. Woaw.

Heart: Would kill you if you called him Heart. Ozzy/Oz/Ozymandias is a real piece of work. Sourceless guilt incarnate, magically influenced by a cursed mirror to eat it, in a symbolic attempt to erase himself. He's so chill. So fine. So cool. Definitely not so close to collapsing at all times. Got glasses though.

Mind: Tinker/Ulysses. So violently soggy, but hides it under his inexplicable British accent and polite demeanour. Made the transmitters that allow Thirds to traverse between their Surrealities. He half-regrets this. The only one of the three fully aware that Cast is an actual sentient guy. Hid his Soul's trident in his hand after the comic, and so that hole is very much still there <he's 'fixing' it atm...>

Soul: Coda. Coba. Coba Cola. What a disaster. After the comic, it <he/it> was kept in his room as much as possible. Then Oz left, and he completely lost it. It was a big storyline, so feel free to ask about it. Coda is really fun because he's not sane

Me-only AU 2: The Negatives

Whole: Eris... also known as Chase. The Negatives are a sort of "reversal of personality". Eris is a shitty content farm-making YouTuber, and generally hates this too. He also has to deal with the Cold War he sort of constructed with his own Thirds. He remembers what his Thirds do, which is good because he split <past tense> often... like. Every day. They called it 'shifts'. Yeah.

Heart: Phobos, ahhhhh my horrible boy Phobos. Personification of egoism, self-aggrandization, imagination, and intrusive thoughts. Green. Mean. A bitch and a half. Generally sadistic. The de-facto leader of the Negative Thirds. Wears crocs. Idolises Whole.

Mind: Deimos. That is all. Personification of logic, reasoning, and thinking ahead. He is also an absolute goon and pushover. All too happy to be Phobos' lackey.

Soul: Nemesis, though he hates that nickname. Personification of 'cringe culture', self-doubt, second-hand embarassment, and critical thinking. Basically ignored by the other two. Does all the work in the Vessel. Clinically annoyed by everything all the time. Very spiteful.

ASSORTED GUYS <from co-op AUs>:

Allen: Soul from Voib, Andy, Shade and I's AI AU, also known as Reification Initiative: Apotheosis. Yeah I came up with that. My bad. Allen is shitty. So very shitty. Ran away. That's all I can say for now.

Valentine: Heart from WAAAILSSSSSS IT'S ONLY ME BUT HIS COUNTERPARTS ARE ALL DEAAAAD. The Bachelor AU, a 'Lonely' AU. He is trying to live his life now that he fucked up and he's alone. He committed arson. He has to go to government-mandated therapy. He is beloved.

Nyx: Whole from Xanadu AU. Haven't done much with him, but he's in space, and he's an idiot.

Vlinder: :>

Thyme: Mind from the Aonaran/Apocalypse AU. The world ended. It be like that sometimes. And the stress got to their Whole. Thyme killed multiple people.

Pursuit: Heart (2) from Voib's Labyrinths AU. He is big kitty cat lad. Does eat people. Tries to maintain the status quo. Genuinely satisfied with the state of things.

Magna: Mind from Demersal AU. Basically, he got pitted instead of Heart for being a delusional little shit. He did not get any less delusional. Conspiracy nut, drowning 1/4th of the time, and generally horrible person.

Brevity: Soul from Voib and I's Syncopation AU. Olde Mann. No legs, they froze off. He is not mentally well at all, but he's got to keep it together if he wants to continue being 'him'.

Crawl: Heart from the Asides AU. Fourth-wall breaking eldritch horror. Collector of things. Collector of extinct things. Full name 'Crawl of the Horizon'.

"Quinn": Soul from Good Day. Very new AU with me, Voib, Q-ott, and Ledge <@/nitroish>. Meant to be close to album guys. He's denying his halves exist and matter atm.

There you go! Not including the alternate timelines because jesus christ

#GASPS FOR BREATH #cjverse chatroom #voice of reason

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gumnut-logic · 8 months

Text

“Get your feet off the dash!”

Gordon, of course, paid him no attention. Laid back in the co-pilot’s seat, he languished, reading his tablet.

Virgil stalked across the cockpit with his coffee, thoroughly satisfied with his decision to grab the last piece of cake. “Get your feet off the dash, or I will remove them myself.”

“Geez, Virg. Take a chill pill.” The feet stayed on the console.

Sitting down, Virgil reached over and retracted the co-pilot’s seat, sending it flying backwards. Gordon’s feet hit the deck with a thud.

“Ow! What is your problem?” The aquanaut glared at him.

“At this very moment? You.”

“Huh? Well, you just need to relax, man. C’mon, we’ve got an hour at least. Put your feet up and take a moment. It’s not like we get many.” Gordon returned to his tablet, a slight frown on his face. A foot lifted up…

“You put your foot anywhere near that console and you are swimming home.”

The foot dropped back to the deck and Gordon turned his back to his brother.

Virgil sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back and letting the sound of his girl vibrate through his bones, to shake away the aggravation. Gordon was right about one thing. It was a rare moment to sit and do nothing. They were returning from a boat rescue in Norway. A ferry had collided with a fishing boat and both were taking on water. Fortunately, Thunderbird Two and the two brothers were already in Scotland assisting with a North Sea exploratory station when it happened and were able to dart across to Scandinavia and rescue the three hundred and five people involved. A very successful rescue had been had despite the freezing cold.

Now they just needed to cross two oceans to get home again.

“So, boxers or briefs?”

“What?” He turned to look at his younger brother.

“Boxers or briefs? Which is it?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“It’s not me, its these IRFs. They are having a discussion about our preferences.” An eyebrow raised as he peered closer at his tablet.

“Irfs?”

“International Rescue Fans. C’mon, Virg, get with it, you know we have groupies.”

“If you say so.”

“So, boxers or briefs?”

“If you had lifted a finger in your life to assist with the laundry, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

“I do laundry.”

“You do piles of unwashed clothes.”

“They get washed eventually.”

“Yes, but not by you.”

“Eh, washed is washed, Virgo.”

Virgil sputtered into his coffee and turned towards his brother. “Virgo?” There was enough warning in his tone to arm a nuclear warhead.

Gordon smiled up at him. “Virgo.” A glare full of dare.

“Say that again.”

“Virgo.” Gordon grinned. “Virgo, Virgo, Virgo.” Then he laughed out loud. “Virgo!”

-o-o-o-

Alan Tracy was chasing a demented autovac when the holographic system in the comms room flashed on. He stood up, fully expecting to see John, but was surprised to encounter a giant foot flickering in the middle of the living room.

He snatched up the autovac before it could escape, but jumped when the comms shouted in Virgil’s voice, ‘Get your feet off the dash!’

He stared. Definitely Gordon’s boot, yellow stripe and all. ‘Get your feet off the dash, or I will remove them myself.’

‘Geez, Virg. Take a chill pill.’

There was a clunk and suddenly the boot disappeared to be replaced by an angry Virgil and an exasperated Gordon. It became immediately clear that they had no idea they were transmitting. Alan stepped back and around the transmitter making sure to keep out of range of the holoprojector. A quick look at the channel reassured him that it was secure to International Rescue, he could see it, the team could see it, but no one outside the organisation had access, thankfully. He reached out to kill the connection.

‘So, boxers or briefs?’

His hand hesitated.

-o-o-o-

Virgil glared at his brother. He could kill him, but that would be messy and the paperwork would suck. “You are so not worth it.” He turned back to his coffee.

“Virgo. Hey, Virgo! Virgo. Virgo. Virgo!”

“WHAT?!”

“Made you answer.”

Maybe the paperwork would be worth it. “What is it with you?!”

“What is it with you? You’re the one who is all grumpy pants.”

“I wonder why.” He buried his face in his coffee, fighting against the tension in his shoulders.

“So do I. You’ve been like a bear with a sore head all day. It has been a good day. We’ve saved hundreds of lives. Nobody died. We have a moment of peace and you’re a grumpy ass.”

The knots twisted tighter. “There has been no moment of peace, Gordon. You simply won’t shut up!”

“This is not you, Virgil! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“There is nothing wrong with me! It is you! You’re being an irritating pain in the ass. Why don’t you shut up and leave me in peace!”

“Fine.”

Gordon grabbed his tablet, shot to his feet and stormed out of the cabin.

Oh, thank god.

-o-o-o-

Scott was halfway across the Pacific when the transmission came in. He was on his way back from Japan, having been requested to speak at a seminar for GDF first responders. It wasn’t often IR appeared anywhere but at rescues, but this had been a special request from Colonel Casey and having personally met some of the attendees at said rescues, he had made an exception. He may not be able to share their technology, but shared experience could help save many more lives. Security had been tight, but Kayo had insisted on going with him in any case. Her ‘Bird was pacing him a few hundred metres behind.

The sight of his brother’s footwear caused a smirk. He opened his mouth to interrupt, but something held him back.

It was worth a laugh at first, ‘Boxers or briefs?’ But then something soured, it all went wrong, his brothers were yelling at each other. Gordon was being his usual jerk self, but Virgil was…Virgil was not Virgil.

Virgil was angry. Really angry. Something so out of character, so raw, it stunned him for a moment.

Gordon cracked and stormed out.

There was silence for a moment, and Scott saw all the energy, all the anger suddenly drain out of his brother. Virgil’s body slumped in his seat, his eyes closed, his face crumpling to one of anguish for just a moment before letting his head drop forward into his hands.

Oh god, was he crying?!

Scott’s mind blanked for a moment. What the hell had happened? What was wrong? Where had this come from?

Why hadn’t he seen it coming?

He reached out to contact his brother, but a hand landed on the holographic man’s shoulder and once again something held him back.

-o-o-o-

Gordon paused by the hatch, looking back at his hunched over brother. Well, that had failed absolutely brilliantly. He should have known better. Virgil was not Scott, he was not Alan, and nobody was John. Poking the bear could have worked, but obviously it didn’t.

He sighed under his breath.

He’d been watching his brother all day. Grumpy was a word, but it wasn’t quite the right word. His performance was excellent, of course. You don’t save three hundred odd people from the Norwegian Sea by being sloppy. He would never expect anything less from Virgil. But his spark had been missing. Even while in Scotland, even underwater in the new sea station surrounded by the vibrant life of the ocean, there had been a dead look in his brother’s eyes. It had bugged him. This wasn’t Virgil. Something was wrong. The gentle energy that poured off the man was absent and it left Gordon adrift.

So he poked the bear.

And somehow made it worse.

He wasn’t good at this. Damnit.

In the shadows of the cockpit, Virgil’s shoulders were shaking just that little bit.

Oh, man. He was so not the right person for this. Scott was going to kill him.

But there was something wrong and he was the only brother available. Drawing in a breath he stepped back into the cockpit, walked softly over to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder.

The uniform under his fingers jerked, and Virgil looked up, tired but dry eyes staring at him.

Oh, thank god. Tears were so far beyond his skill set, he would have ended up crying himself and then where would they have been? There was something about seeing his older, usually steadfast brother vulnerable that just tore as chunk out of his chest. A chunk he usually needed to breathe.

He crouched down by his brother’s seat, his hand slipping from the man’s shoulder to his thigh. Brown eyes tracked his movements, a slightly puzzled frown forming between them.

Well, honesty was apparently the best policy. “Tell me what you need, Virg. I want to help, but I’m not good at this. What is wrong?”

A slow blink. A deep voice, laced with a thread of strain. “Nothing is wrong, Gordon. I’m just tired.” His brother straightened in his seat, the façade falling back into place.

Aww, c’mon, Virg, I know I’m not Scott, but I’m not stupid either. Though, at least he wasn’t yelling at him anymore.

His hand tightened on tough fabric.

“I’m fine. Honest, Gordy.” Virgil sat up straighter in his seat. The façade got thicker, and Gordon couldn’t help but feel a tendril of rejection winding up his spine. It twisted as Virgil put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “It’s okay.”

“You don’t need to go all big brother on me, Virgil. I’m old enough to know when my brother is hurting, and I love you enough to try and do something to help you.”

The hand on his shoulder froze. And retreated.

Those brown eyes widened and, for just a moment, the vulnerability welled up, surfaced and was exposed.

-o-o-o-

Sally Tracy had her heart in her throat.

As the holograms played out before her she had been ripped from amusement, to worry, to fear, all wrapped in that all-encompassing love for her grandchildren.

She had an idea of what might be upsetting Virgil. Today had been a good day, but there had been weeks before today, that hadn’t. She’d been watching him, knowing he was prone to neglecting himself, knowing he tended to take in more than the other boys, his professional façade just that slightly more porous to the emotions of others.

She had planned to speak to Scott. They were due for another shopping trip. Due for a little time out.

But apparently Gordon had stepped up to the plate.

All her instincts were screaming to go to her boys, embrace them both, protect them from the world, but they were somewhere on the other side of the Pacific, several thousand metres up in the air. She only had holograms to reach out to.

And she dare not interrupt.

-o-o-o-

Virgil looked down at Gordon and saw the years of experience behind those eyes. Eyes not unlike his own, but framed by such a different face and personality, and just for that one moment, every thing washed away and all he felt was love for his little brother.

But the question was still waiting to be answered.

Virgil broke eye contact, looking down, and let his body go slack. “I don’t know, Gordon.” His voice was quiet, almost husky with exhaustion. “Maybe I am just tired.”

The hand on his knee tightened again. It wasn’t enough.

An exasperated sigh. “I don’t know! Maybe. It’s been a long stretch this time. Again.” His hands shot out for emphasis. “You said it yourself – it’s been a good day because nobody died!” And he was raising his voice again. “Is that really how we gauge our good days? Is the bar really that low?” Is this what his life was? Running from one misery to the next, desperately trying to keep his head above the terror and the pain? “Is this really a Good Day?”

-o-o-o-

John floated in space, his hand poised to reach for the off switch, frozen.

‘Is this really a Good Day?’

Something in his stomach curdled. His whole mind, body and self cringed away from the question. That way lay doubt, and loss, and change, and a multitude of other factors he was unwilling to consider.

Things are as they are because that is the way they are meant to be.

Elsewhere lay weakness, and reasons to be not as he is now.

Gordon didn’t answer immediately. His gaze drifted down as if marshalling his thoughts, before looking back up at his brother. ‘I don’t know, Virgil.’ He pressed his lips together. ‘All I know is that I have you, I have Scott, John, Alan, Kayo, Brains and Grandma.” He looked away, nibbling his bottom lip before turning back and latching onto his brother’s eyes. ‘We live an amazing life, Virg. We give up a lot, but there are people on this planet who will never see what we’ve seen. We have been everywhere. I mean Everywhere. And we make a difference. You make a difference. You have saved so many people, Virgil. So many souls. So many brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, mothers and fathers.’ He swallowed again before turning back to Virgil and pinning him with his eyes. ‘We have our health and we have each other, so, yes, Virgil, it is a damn good day.’

Gordon sat back on his heels.

‘And I know you know that, because you’ve told me on so many occasions that I can now spout it by rote. So tell me, what has my big brother forgetting one of his core mantras?’

John’s hand dropped to his side.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was forced to smile. He couldn’t help it. Part of him was so proud, so gobsmacked, so lucky to be family with this man. “I so love you right now.”

Gordon’s eyes widened and he stumbled backwards to his feet. “Aaw, man.”

“Hey, hey.” Virgil reached out and snagged his hand. Gordon tried to pull away, but for once, Virgil played on his strength. “Come here. Look at me.” Very much now the usual resistant younger brother, Gordon reluctantly looked down at Virgil. “That means a lot. You mean a lot. To me. Never forget that.” He gripped his brother’s hand a little tighter for emphasis before letting go.

Gordon rolled his eyes. “How could I with you around?” He shifted his feet. “Now spill. What’s been bugging you enough to bug the rest of us? C’mon, you ripped John a new one yesterday, Alan has been hiding from you for the last week, and if Scott asks me one more time if I’ve done anything to set you off, I’m going to leave something flammable in his bathtub. What is wrong, Virg?”

“Apart from you calling me, Virg?”

“It’s a pet name.” Virgil glared. “A sign of fondness?” He raised an eyebrow. “Would you prefer Virgo?”

“I’m a Leo.” Thank god he had been born a couple weeks early.

“I noticed. Several times today as you tried to tear my head off with your teeth.” He waved his hand in the direction of Virgil’s head. “And then there is that mane thing you’ve got going there.”

Virgil sighed, letting his shoulders drop, but didn’t answer.

“C’mon, Virg, tell me, so we can fix it.”

Virgil sighed. “Gordon, I appreciate what you are trying to do. I do, honestly. But-“ He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know. Everything is just-“ He frowned. “I’ll speak to Alan and Scott when we get home, apologise. I can call John. I-“ A swallow. “I’ll try to be less of a bear.”

“I thought you were a lion.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Okay, smart ass.” A more serious tone. “I will do better, I promise.”

The scepticism on Gordon’s face was anything but encouraging. “I don’t want you to do better, I want you to be happy.”

-o-o-o-

There was a flicker of pain in Virgil’s eyes before he looked away.

Goddamnit! The guy just didn’t get it. This wasn’t about altering his behaviour, this was about finding the problem and getting help to fix it. Was it his innate selflessness or his pig-headed refusal to let anyone in?

Gordon turned his back on his brother and sat down in the co-pilot’s seat. So, honesty didn’t work. Check. There was even a dash of sensitivity in there for bonus points and that failed as well. Well, his toolbox was completely blown. Guess this would need to be handballed to Scott. After all the two eldest had that bond thing going. Maybe old blue eyes could talk some sense into him.

Of course, now the cockpit was ominously silent. Well as silent as it could get with those massive thrusters roaring out their backend. He eyed the navigation panel. Damn, still a good forty minutes to go before he could escape.

He eyed his brother sideways. Virgil was staring out the window, a lost look on his face, his fingers absently tapping out an agitated beat on the side console.

At least if they were home, Gordon could shove the man in front of his piano. The distraction couldn’t hurt. And hey, free music.

Virgil’s fingers continued to tap to an unseen beat.

Actually, come to think of it, he hadn’t heard Virgil playing the piano recently. He tried to think back to when he’d last heard or seen his brother playing his instrument. He frowned. There was Alan’s birthday…but that had been interrupted by that power plant in Saigon. Grandma’s birthday. He’d played that new composition just for her.

But that was over six months ago.

Damned if he could remember his brother sitting down to play at any other more recent time. Sure, it was a background thing for Gordon, he didn’t pay that much attention. Virgil played the piano, it was his thing, he was pretty damn good at it, and as long as it didn’t collide with what Gordon wanted to do, whatever.

But he knew enough to know that it was important to Virgil.

Like the water was important to Gordon.

He eyed his brother again. Virgil ran a tired hand through his hair. “What, Gordon?”

“Nothing.” He pointed towards the cockpit door. “I’m just going to go check on Thunderbird Four. Just remembered she hit some ice with her left thruster. Want to make sure there isn’t any damage.”

Virgil’s eyes betrayed him. He knew an excuse when he heard one. “Let me know if you need a hand.”

Gordon held back a flinch. “Will do.”

He escaped.

-o-o-o-

Brains jumped when the call came in. He hurriedly shut down his view of Virgil staring out the windows of Thunderbird Two, the guilt making him trip over his own chair.

“G-Gordon! Uh, what can I d-do for you?”

“Need your help, Brains.” The bright yellow of Thunderbird Four’s cockpit haloed the second youngest Tracy. “How is Virgil’s birthday present going?”

Blink. “Uh, as-sembled it yesterday. I’d still like to do a f-few last tests.”

“We need to give it to him today.”

“W-why?”

“It needs to be today, Brains. It can’t wait until next month. He needs it today. Can you upload it to Thunderbird Four?”

He did the math and considered the equipment specs needed. “You will need a secondary projector.”

“Will the one in TB4 do the job?”

“Yes.” He was going to cannibalise his own craft? But then considering what Brains had witnessed earlier…this might be a viable plan.

“Send it up. I’ll set it up.” He paused a moment. “I’m sorry, I know you’ve put a lot of work into it, but trust me. He needs this. He really does.”

“I trust you, G-Gordon.”

“Thank you. I owe you big time.”

“Y-you owe me n-nothing, Gordon. Just help him.” Yes, Brains had been a witness to the second eldest Tracy’s issues recently. All the boys had their moments, but Virgil in particular had been having a bad time. It was times like this that he missed Jeff the most.

Gordon signed off. Brains took a breath, let it out, and set to work.

-o-o-o-

Virgil’s coffee had gone cold. The cake still sat beside him, but it was forgotten.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He could not ask for more. There was no more. He had everything he could ever want. Gordon had proven that.

So why did he feel this way? Everything felt grey, lacklustre, colourless. He wasn’t sleeping well. Faces, so many faces.

He told Gordon he didn’t know because, honestly, he didn’t. Perhaps if he did, he could fix it himself, but so far, no clue.

The human body didn’t come with a manual.

“Virgil.”

He jumped. He hadn’t heard Gordon return. “How’s TB4? Any damage?”

“She’s good.” Gordon had something bundled in his hands. “Uh, I’ve got something for you.” He raised a hand full of electronics. “No, stay there. Here, just let me set this up.”

Gordon reached around him and put something yellow on the side console. Virgil frowned in alarm. “Is that Thunderbird Four’s holoprojector?”

“Yup. Here hold this while I plug this in.” Gordon reached around him again, plugging a cord into the main console. He then reached down and pulled the pilot’s chair back to it’s furthest distance from the dash.

“Hey. What are you up to?”

“Trust me, Virg, you are going to like this.”

“That’s exactly what you said when you decided Thunderbird Two needed a camouflage paint job.” He eyed the yellow holoprojector. “And Brains wanted to scalp you that time, too.”

“Brains, knows what I’m doing.”

“He does?”

“I said trust me, Virg.” He reached around to the other side of the pilot’s seat and placed down another holoprojector. “That should do it.” Another plug slid into the dash. Gordon stepped back and flipped a switch.

The two projectors threw out strands of light that met in the middle. They interwove above his lap, forming the familiar haze of your average hologram.

Virgil sucked in a breath.

“Wait for it.”

Secondary pulses of energy shot out and followed the tracings of the first display. The hologram focussed and intensified.

Into a piano keyboard.

Virgil looked up at his brother, vaguely aware that his mouth was open.

“Go on, touch it.”

He reached out a finger and brushed it against a single key. It touched back. It felt solid. “H-how?”

“Brains. He has been working on it for a while.” Gordon grinned. “Happy birthday, big brother.”

He couldn’t speak. He reached down and played a single note. It rung around the cockpit, echoing off her hard shell. He played another and it chased the first.

“Brains said you can make it as long as a full piano or shorter, depending on your needs. It is tied into the ship’s sound system here, but it will support a proper instrumental amplifier and all the gizmos you could want. Fully portable, of course. We can rig it up with its own specialised projectors when we get home.”

Virgil grabbed his hand and held it tight.

Gordon’s lips curved into a small smile.

Softly. “Play me something, Virgil.”

-o-o-o-

Kayo wasn’t one for crying. She was more likely to go out and injure a piece of gym equipment, but there was no punching bag in Thunderbird Shadow’s cockpit.

Her second eldest brother touched the keys. Hesitantly at first as he got a feel for the holographic instrument, testing the sound and response. A note here, a chord there, a simple tune, a practise routine. His lips parted, drawing in breath.

Then he closed his eyes, and feeling with only touch and sound, began to play.

Familiar notes, an old favourite. His fingers danced across the keys. As he fell into the music, she watched his face, his frown smoothing out and a slight, occupied smile curving his lips.

Gordon stood in the background, arms crossed over his chest, his own smile and just a hint of hope on his face.

The comfortable tune morphed into a more complex composition, the notes interweaving over and under each other. Grandma’s special piece made an appearance, Virgil’s smile deepening as the love behind it vibrated the air around him.

But soon it began to fade. Darker notes started to take precedence. The frown reappeared on her brother’s face. His fingers moved faster, the sounds became more strident and, suddenly, all familiarity was taken by emotion.

-o-o-o-

Scott sat in the dark of the hanger.

Oh, Virgil.

His brother’s fingers played as if of their own volition. Lost to the music, Virgil swayed gently in his seat. One hand spoke anger, the other spoke pain, but amongst the notes a single spritely tune spoke of hope. It interwove, dancing back and forth, teasing, only to be joined by a partner, then another.

All harmonised with the persistent background roar of Thunderbird Two.

-o-o-o-

His grandmother had tears running down her face.

Alan looked up at her, his own heart wretched. He had never heard his brother play like this. He was no classical music fancier, but this said so much more.

So much pain, but so much hope. It was as if the music was trying to save someone, reaching out with all its might, its fingertips straining to keep someone from falling.

It kept trying and trying.

-o-o-o-

Space wasn’t silent. It was crying.

John had his hand resting gently on EOS’ frame and his eyes closed. She had stopped asking him questions, stopped querying his reactions. She didn’t understand, but trusted that he did.

His other hand reached up to cover his eyes, whether to hide from the expression on his brother’s face or to try and comfort himself he didn’t know.

Virgil was bleeding music.

He hadn’t heard his brother cry in years, but this was, this was the sound of tears. How long had this been building up? How long had his brother been feeling this way?

But amongst all the pain, there was so much hope. A searching, a need, a determination. John looked up at his brother to find him biting his bottom lip, his frown of concentration so intense it looked painful.

“EOS, prepare the elevator. I need to go home.”

-o-o-o-

Gordon stood behind his brother getting worried. Had he screwed this up too?

It was like Virgil was throwing all of himself onto the keys. They were taking one hell of a pounding and Gordon hoped Brain’s handywork could support the abuse.

But it seemed Virgil needed to do it.

What appeared to be a little downer Gordon thought he could poke out of his brother, now seemed so much bigger. Gordon didn’t understand music much, so not his thing, but this was so primal, so raw…

It ached. It hurt.

The music rose suddenly to a yell, and some of the darker notes fell away. Virgil’s right hand danced across some of the higher pitched keys and the music began to lose weight, began to rise, the hope slowly overcoming the loss.

His brother’s head tipped slightly to one side still swaying just slightly, as the metre ticked the seconds by.

The song changed as the pain gradually slipped away. A strident single dance of keys became the lead, idly waltzing across the keyboard, back and forth. His left hand slowed leaving Virgil’s right to the majority of the tune, until it too began to slow.

Both hands came together, notes dropping like autumn leaves, the sound softer and softer, until there was five, then four, three, and two. One.

And silence.

Virgil slumped over the keyboard breathing heavily, his head in his hands.

“You have no idea how much I needed that.” It was muffled, but Gordon heard it.

No, dear brother, but I can see.

They sat in silence. No words. None wanted. Thunderbird Two continued her song.

Tracy Island appeared on the horizon.

“We’re home, Virg.” It was quiet, but Virgil heard him.

He sat up wearily, looking down at the keyboard, then back at his brother. “How?”

“Oh.” Gordon quickly cut the power to the hologram, unplugged and removed the projectors. He said nothing about the unshed tears in his brother’s eyes, just secured the precious equipment in preparation for landing.

Virgil shook himself, sat up straight, engaging his seat with the console, and was suddenly completely the professional pilot and International Rescue Operative he always was. Numbers started flying about the cockpit as autopilot was disengaged and Thunderbird Two began her descent towards home.

-o-o-o-

As his ‘Bird finished her rotation in her hanger, he cut off her engines and for the first time in so many hours, there was true silence.

He looked down at his hands, aware of what he had likely exposed to his brother, but ever so, so grateful. “Thank you, Gordon. For everything.”

“No thanks needed, bro.” Gordon climbed out of his co-pilot seat. “I’m just going to go and see to my little yellow submarine.” And he wandered off, as nonchalant as ever.

His big brother couldn’t help but smile.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was exhausted, but he had to check up on Scott and Kayo. For some reason they hadn’t reported making it back yet. He hoped it was only a communication glitch, because he didn’t think he had the energy to save anyone at this moment.

He was completely drained. Of everything.

It had been such a release to finally let himself fall into the music. Let it out, break the dam. He hadn’t realised it had been so long since he had played. He should know better. His art was his outlet. It was the only way to relieve the stress of his occupation and he hadn’t had time over the last few months to really sit down and let himself go. To busy, too tired, too interrupted, too everything.

He had to make a point of making time. He needed this or it would all fall apart. He should have recognised the signs, but again, too much of everything.

He had never thought Gordon…

God, he was a lucky man to have such a family.

Speaking of family…

He came up behind Gordon who was standing just inside the entrance to the comms room. Still in his uniform, like Virgil, he was standing almost at attention.

“Gordy, what-“

Then his eyes caught the tableau.

His entire family, including John and Brains, even Max and EOS were standing in the lounge staring at the two of them.

Grandma had tears in her eyes.

What the hell? “What’s wrong?” He dropped the bag he was carrying and rushed forward. “Grandma?” His hackles rose and he looked around the room attempting to find out what the source of the trouble was. His eyes latched onto Scott’s and found worry.

His grandmother reached up and gently turned him to face her. Her eyes were glistening. Her voice was rough. “You are a most wonderful boy.” And she had her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a tight embrace. “I love you. We love you. Never forget it.”

He looked up at Scott, getting more worried by the second. “What happened?”

It was Gordon who answered, his voice so quiet. “They heard it, Virgil. Heard it all.”

“Heard what?” Would someone please tell him what the hell was going on.

Scott moved closer to him. Virgil looked up as he approached, his brother’s wary expression setting off alarm bells in his head. He straightened, gently letting his grandmother find her feet as he turned to face his older brother.

A hand reached out and rested on his shoulder. “Virgil, Thunderbird Two’s comms have been open for the last hour. We all heard you and Gordon…and your music.”

Virgil’s heart dropped and his eyes widened. He took a step back, Scott’s hand falling from his shoulder. He swallowed to find his voice. “How?”

“Gordon’s feet on the dash.”

He spun around towards his co-pilot. Scott caught his arm. “Did you know?” Anger and acute embarrassment welled up.

But Gordon looked as horrified as he felt. His arms shot up defensively. “No, god, Virgil, no, I swear. I’d never –“ He took a step back. “It was an accident.”

“Virgil.” Scott was pulling him gently backwards. He turned to face his brother, his face flaming. “Are you okay?”

He grit his teeth. “I’m fine.” He moved to pull away, but Scott held him fast. “I’m fine!” Again he moved to pull away, but to his surprise, his brother pulled him into his arms and embraced him.

No words, Scott’s arms just tightened.

Virgil’s heart leapt up into his throat as he automatically hugged back. “Scott?”

The arms tightened even more before his brother finally pulled away, obviously fighting for composure. “You…you need to take better care of yourself.”

Embarrassment warred with regret. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t get to say that.” Kayo stalked over into his personal space, her expression angry. She shoved a finger into the centre of his chest. “Don’t you dare apologise and don’t you dare be embarrassed. That was the most powerful piece of music I have ever heard, and it was all you.” A breath. “You have no need to hide yourself, Virgil. We’re your family and just like Gordon we love you enough to want to help. I don’t know how long you’ve been bottling all that up, but if that help requires me to hogtie you to your piano every morning I will.”

He stared at her wide-eyed, but some of the embarrassment lifted. “You are truly scary.”

She stabbed him with her finger again. “And don’t you forget it.” A fond smile crept onto her face and it was her turn to wrap her arms around him and bury her head into his chest.

“I’m okay.” He held her tight.

“You better be.”

-o-o-o-

Alan let a breath out, finally letting himself relax. He didn’t want to admit it, but for a bit there, he had been scared. He knew Virgil was the artistic type, the only one amongst the six of them, he knew that sometimes made him react just that more to a situation, sometimes weirdly, but the emotion in that music, the pain on his brother’s face…he hadn’t known that was possible, much less that Virgil had been carrying it around with him.

As John walked over to his dark-haired brother and placed a hand on his shoulder, Alan saw Virgil finally, truly smile.

Alan found himself grinning with relief. And he wasn’t the only one – there were a whole range of goofy faces around the room now.

Except for Gordon.

His water brother was still standing outside the circle of the lounge, his expression worried.

Stepping around the sofa, Alan climbed up the steps, reaching out. “Hey, you did good.”

“I did?” He was still staring at the huddle of family. “But will he ever forgive me?”

Alan stood beside him. “He’s forgiven you for a whole lot worse. Remember the tarantulas?”

“Which ones?”

“Exactly.”

Gordon looked at him and a smile finally broke through. Alan grinned back.

In the circle of the lounge, Virgil had broken away from his sister and was now bear-hugging their hapless engineer. Brains almost looked frightened. Alan’s grin widened. “Do you think he needs rescuing?”

“Nah. He can handle it. Serves him right for coming up with that idea anyway.”

They stood there for a moment, side by side. “You know we’ll have to keep an eye on him.” Gordon’s voice was quiet.

“No more than he does on us, bro.”

Half a laugh and Gordon wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed.

Yes, it was a Good Day.

A damn good one.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #nuttyfic reblog #very much an oldie #second Thunderbirds fic I ever wrote #was so happy with it at the time #FishTank #before I even knew it was a thing

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hyenagirl-pseudophallus · 7 months

Text

RARE BAT SIGHTING!

Little Brown Bat (myotis lucifugus) spotted at my worksite in Littleton, CO!

Little brown bats are especially susceptible to White-Nose Syndrome (WNS), a human-transmittable fungal infection (psuedogymnoascus destructans) that has devastated the North American myotis population over the last twenty years.

This infection presents as a white, frost-like bloom around the nose, and causes infected bats to wake from hibernation, leave the colony, and seek food. As the hibernation they're woken from occurs in winter, the infected bats are, of course, unable to find food (in the form of insects) and ultimately die from starvation, dehydration, or exposure.

Humans who are uninformed may travel between caves, parks, or entire states, without taking proper steps to decontaminate themselves or their gear, and so will aid in the spreading of these fungal spores unawares.

From visual inspection, however, this specimen appears to be uninfected with WNS!

As a result of wildlife conservation efforts, programs to warn and educate campers, hikers, spelunkers, and general campers of the impact they can have on these endangered populations, and natural selection, some populations of myotis are beginning to recover, but it's a long road to recovery.

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/amp/science/little-brown-bats-provide-glimmer-of-hope-against-a-species-threatening-fungus

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girlactionfigure · 1 year

Text

Immense pride, tinged with sadness.

For those who would like to read the full list:

1908 MECHNIKOV, ELIE

FOR THEIR WORK ON IMMUNITY

1908 EHRLICH, PAUL

FOR THEIR WORK ON IMMUNITY

1914 BARANY, ROBERT

FOR HIS WORK ON THE PHYSIOLOGY AND PATHOLOGY OF THE VESTIBULAR APPARATUS

1922 MEYERHOF, OTTO FRITZ

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF THE FIXED RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE CONSUMPTION OF

OXYGEN AND THE METABOLISM OF LACTIC ACID IN THE MUSCLE

1930 LANDSTEINER, KARL

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF HUMAN BLOOD GROUPS

1936 LOEWI, OTTO

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES RELATING TO CHEMICAL TRANSMISSION OF NERVE IMPULSES

1944 ERLANGER, JOSEPH

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES RELATING TO THE HIGHLY DIFFERENTIATED FUNCTIONS OF SINGLE NERVE FIBRES

1945 CHAIN, ERNST BORIS

FOR THE DISCOVERY OF PENICILLIN AND ITS CURATIVE EFFECT IN VARIOUS INFECTIOUS DISEASES

1946 MULLER, HERMANN J.

FOR THE DISCOVERY OF THE PRODUCTION OF MUTATIONS BY MEANS OF X-RAY IRRADIATION

1947 CORI, GERTY THERESA, RADNITZ

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF THE COURSE OF THE CATALYTIC CONVERSION OF GLYCOGEN

1950 REICHSTEIN, TADEUS

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES RELATING TO THE HORMONES OF THE ADRENAL CORTEX, THEIR STRUCTURE AND BIOLOGICAL EFFECTS

1952 WAKSMAN, SELMAN A.

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF STREPTOMYCIN, THE FIRST ANTIBIOTIC EFFECTIVE AGAINST TUBERCULOSIS

1953 LIPMANN, FRITZ ALBERT

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF CO-ENZYME A AND ITS IMPORTANCE FOR INTERMEDIARY METABOLISM

1953 KREBS, HANS ADOLF

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF THE CITRIC ACID CYCLE

1958 LEDERBERG, JOSHUA

FOR HIS DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC RECOMBINATION AND THE ORGANISATION OF THE GENETIC MATERIAL OF BACTERIA

1959 KORNBERG, ARTHUR

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF THE MECHANISMS IN THE BIOLOGICAL SYNTHESIS OF RIBONUCLEIC ACID AND DEOXYRIBONUCLEIC ACID

1964 BLOCH, KONRAD

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE MECHANISM AND REGULATION OF THE CHOLESTEROL AND FATTY ACID METABOLISM

1965 JACOB, FRANCOIS

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC CONTROL OF ENZYME AND VIRUS SYNTHESIS

1965 LWOFF, ANDRE

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC CONTROL OF ENZYME AND VIRUS SYNTHESIS

1967 WALD, GEORGE

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE PRIMARY PHYSIOLOGICAL AND CHEMICAL VISUAL PROCESSES IN THE EYE

1968 NIRENBERG, MARSHALL W.

FOR THEIR INTERPRETATION OF THE GENETIC CODE AND ITS FUNCTION IN PROTEIN SYNTHESIS

1969 LURIA, SALVADOR E.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE REPLICATION MECHANISM AND THE GENETIC STRUCTURE OF VIRUSES

1970 KATZ, BERNARD

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE HUMORAL TRANSMITTERS IN THE NERVE TERMINALS AND THE MECHANISM

FOR THEIR STORAGE, RELEASE AND INACTIVATION

1970 AXELROD, JULIUS

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE HUMORAL TRANSMITTERS IN THE NERVE TERMINALS AND THE MECHANISM

FOR THEIR STORAGE, RELEASE AND INACTIVATION

1972 EDELMAN, GERALD M.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE CHEMICAL STRUCTURE OF ANTIBODIES

1975 TEMIN, HOWARD M.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE INTERACTION BETWEEN TUMOR VIRUSES AND THE GENETIC MATERIAL OF THE CELL

1975 BALTIMORE, DAVID

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE INTERACTION BETWEEN TUMOR VIRUSES AND THE GENETIC MATERIAL OF THE CELL

1976 BLUMBERG, BARUCH S.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING NEW MECHANISMS FOR THE ORIGIN AND DISSEMINATION OF INFECTIOUS DISEASES

1977 YALOW, ROSALYN

FOR THE DEVELOPMENT OF RADIOIMMUNOASSAYS OF PEPTIDE HORMONES

1977 SCHALLY, ANDREW V.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE PEPTIDE HORMONE PRODUCTION OF THE BRAIN

1978 NATHANS, DANIEL

FOR THE DISCOVERY OF RESTRICTION ENZYMES AND THEIR APPLICATION TO PROBLEMS OF MOLECULAR GENETICS

1980 BENACERRAF, BARUJ

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETICALLY DETERMINED STRUCTURES ON THE CELL SURFACE THAT

REGULATE IMMUNOLOGICAL REACTIONS

1984 MILSTEIN, CESAR

FOR THEORIES CONCERNING THE SPECIFICITY IN DEVELOPMENT AND CONTROL OF THE IMMUNE SYSTEM AND THE DISCOVERY OF THE

PRINCIPLE FOR PRODUCTION OF MONOCLONAL ANTIBODIES

1985 BROWN, MICHAEL S.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE REGULATION OF CHOLESTEROL METABOLISM

1985 GOLDSTEIN, JOSEPH L.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE REGULATION OF CHOLESTEROL METABOLISM

1986 COHEN, STANLEY

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF GROWTH FACTORS

1986 LEVI-MONTALCINI, RITA

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF GROWTH FACTORS

1988 ELION, GERTRUDE B.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF IMPORTANT PRINCIPLES FOR DRUG TREATMENT

1989 VARMUS, HAROLD E.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF THE CELLULAR ORIGIN OF RETROVIRAL ONCOGENES

1994 RODBELL, MARTIN

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF G-PROTEINS AND THE ROLE OF THESE PROTEINS IN SIGNAL TRANSDUCTION IN CELLS

1994 GILMAN, ALFRED G.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF G-PROTEINS AND THE ROLE OF THESE PROTEINS IN SIGNAL TRANSDUCTION IN CELLS

1997 PRUSINER, STANLEY B.

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF PRIONS - A NEW BIOLOGICAL PRINCIPLE OF INFECTION

1998 FURCHGOTT, ROBERT F.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING NITRIC OXIDE AS A SIGNALING MOLECULE IN THE CARDIOVASCULAR SYSTEM

2000 GREENGARD, PAUL

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING SIGNAL TRANSDUCTION IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM

2000 KANDEL, ERIC R.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING SIGNAL TRANSDUCTION IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM

2002 BRENNER, SYDNEY

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC REGULATION OF ORGAN DEVELOPMENT AND PROGRAMMED CELL DEATH

2002 HORVITZ, H. ROBERT

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC REGULATION OF ORGAN DEVELOPMENT AND PROGRAMMED CELL DEATH

2004 AXEL, RICHARD

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF ODORANT RECEPTORS AND THE ORGANIZATION OF THE OLFACTORY SYSTEM

2006 FIRE, ANDREW Z.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF RNA INTERFERENCE - GENE SILENCING BY DOUBLE-STRANDED RNA

2011 STEINMAN, RALPH M.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE ACTIVATION OF INNATE IMMUNITY

2011 BEUTLER, BRUCE A.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE ACTIVATION OF INNATE IMMUNITY

2013 SCHEKMAN, RANDY W.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF MACHINERY REGULATING VESICLE TRAFFIC, A MAJOR TRANSPORT SYSTEM IN OUR CELLS

2013 ROTHMAN, JAMES E.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF MACHINERY REGULATING VESICLE TRAFFIC, A MAJOR TRANSPORT SYSTEM IN OUR CELLS

2017 ROSBASH, MICHAEL

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF MOLECULAR MECHANISMS CONTROLLING THE CIRCADIAN RHYTHM

Likud Herut UK

#Israel #Nobel prize #Jewish Pride

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jussst-lurking · 1 year

Text

The sound of the stars - snippet

So turns out I can actually write when I’m supposed to do other things (*cough* studying) and I’m kinda bored rn so have a snippet of my lestappen space au:

“Charles!”, he shouts, out of breath, “open the hatch, start the engine, we have to get out of here! I’m- fuck- I’m almost there!”

The transmitter crackles. Fucking old thing, Max should really get a new one.

“I thought you had the perfect plan to pull this off, Maxy, doesn’t sound so perfect now”, the amusement in Charles’ voice carries through the tinny clang of the speaker.

“This is not the time to be smug, Charles, hurry!”, he retorts.

Charles doesn’t answer, but the hatch of the ship opens with a rusty squeak and a moment later the hum of the engine is drowning out the sound of the alarms, the footsteps and the heavy rain.

Max dashes up the ramp, only stopping once he’s inside the belly of the ship, where he doubles over, trying to catch his breath. Running is the fucking worst.

“Close the hatch, I’m in”, he pants into the transmitter.

“You have it?”, Charles asks as the hatch is closing in what feels like slow motion.

Through the closing gap, Max sees more guards arriving at the other end of the parking lot, and fuck, they’re armed.

“‘Course I have it, I keep my promises, Charlie”, he assures and watches the hatch close all the way. Imminent danger of getting shot averted.

“Come up here, I need to kiss you”, Charles calls, his voice brimming with excitement .

Max grins, all too happy to oblige, and falls into a lazy jog through the ship’s intestines.

“Oh, by the way, babe, could you put the ship into gear? We have company and they’re armed.”

“Ok, hold on tight”, Charles warns and Max can just so grab onto the ladder leading to the living deck before a jolt goes through the ship and they’re rolling.

Max climbs up the ladder, strides through the living area and enters the cockpit.

Charles is sitting in the pilot seat, his pressed-together lips and furrowed eyebrows reflecting in the window screen, the screen wipers distorting the image every few seconds, as he steers the ship across the parking lot, steadily upping their speed. His efforts are accompanied by some Earthen rock music blaring through the cockpit over the radio, and Charles is tapping his foot to the beat, probably without noticing it.

Max comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Move over, I’ve got it.”

Charles looks up at him, green eyes twinkling with mirth, lips curling into a smile, god, Max wants to kiss the life out of him, but they have more important things to take care of first.

“So bossy, do I have to remind you that this is my ship?”, Charles teases in mock offence, but clambers over the console and into the co-pilot seat, while Max gets comfortable in the pilot’s chair.

“Well sorry, would you grant me the honour of piloting your ship and getting us the fuck out of here before we are swarmed by guards and it’s too late?”, Max asks, already flipping a few switches and turning some knobs, preparing them for take off.

“Permission granted”, Charles smiles.

“You’re impossible, you know”, Max sighs fondly.

#lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #fanfic #space AU #look at me I’m actually writing

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dokukoi · 2 months

Note

In relation to the ask game answer, could I get a lore dump on you and Ren? I won't deny, radio dj falling in love with thier kidnapper is a concept that's got got me hooked!

Don't feel pressured to answer and only include what you want to, I'm just super curious about that now :3

-@woof-ships

omg yay!!! thank you im so happy you like my silly self-ships to know more about them 🤭🤭🤭

it's based off of my own experiences being a radio dj and i wanted to have my own storyline that parallels btd2 canon but is more self-indulgent :D hopefully this makes sense (and is not ridiculously long) bc ive never written it down before dkakfjak

under the cut because i failed at keeping it short lmao

so, while trying to make friends by surfing gore and snuff forums, ren stumbled upon noe's late-night show (10PM - 4AM). it's an international block, focusing on rock and metal from different countries. much to ren's delight, there's also a vkei, jrock, and jmetal showcase hour. after a few days of listening to the show, listening to the DJ during their voice breaks—ren's heart races. they have so much in common, they sound so kind... they're the friend ren has been looking for! so, he finally decides to call in a request.

noe is delighted, obviously—not many people call in to radio shows, let alone late-night ones anymore! they're even more delighted when ren becomes a regular caller. there's only so much you can do to occupy yourself when you're stuck in the studio for six hours. noe is more than happy to chat away!

while it starts off as short conversations, about the music, the bands... ren quickly pushes the conversations to be longer, more personal. nothing too invasive, yet. it's basically having a pen-pal... right? noe is just happy to have some company and willing to overlook some of the more prodding questions.

meanwhile, ren is becoming increasingly parasocial. he anxiously waits for 10PM and if there's a minute delay to hearing their voice, he gets nervous. he dreads 4AM, the radio cut off. in the rare case someone else calls in—he gets irritated. why do they need to talk to someone that's not him? to ren, noe is already their best friend, their partner, since the lines are so blurred for him.

he needs to be closer to them. he needs to see them, to touch them... after weeks of asking, begging, pleading noe for him to be a guest co-host for one night, noe agrees. they've been talking to him for a few months... he seems nice enough. he's just passionate about the same kind of music they are! nothing would go wrong, would it?

yeah... while the radio station is struggling to find someone to fill their slot, ren has his very own best friend/partner/plaything now! complete with a shock collar and a cute lil ankle shackle. aren't they such nice gifts?!

after this, it loosely follows the routes in the game

ren's lovebombing and sadism quickly breaks noe in—especially after ren breaks down after almost permanently breaking them. he really, really just wants a friend—this is the only way that he knows how to treat friends, to have fun with them.

he just doesn't want to lose his best friend after he just found them. ren quickly shifts to just... trying to have a normal relationship with noe. well, what he perceives as a normal relationship sans the brutality. he just wants to love and be loved!

to help noe have some sort of semblance of normalcy again, he makes a home-made radio transmitter. they host a small radio show together every week. slowly but surely, noe warms up to ren and his affections now that ren is no longer 'playing' with them.

their laugh on the radio waves sounds just like when he first met them now. to anyone listening, they just seem like a couple head over heels for each other. not a captive and their captor.

i haven't decided how lawrence fits into this, or if ren becomes fox/the announcer in this storyline (im leaning towards fox being an au)

i hope this made some sense?? im not the strongest writer! thank you so much for asking though woof 😭🫶

#woof ships #🐇🦊#🪩 you've got mail!#🪩 noe writes #kinda?

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writefinch · 8 months

Text

In Hot Pursuit (Part 1)

(She-Ra CatrAdora slashfic you're welcome)

'Don't say it.'

Throat tight, ears ringing, palms shot through with cold little needles. She knew what she was going to hear. She'd heard those words so many times.

'Catra, I--'

'No!' Hoarse, and harsh. 'Please. Please. I can't take it. Not… not now.'

Her back and shoulders wound themselves tight under the weight of words to come. It was going to hurt her. She knew on some level that it was her fault, that the pain was her own stupid prize for her own stupid game, it was what she deserved for thinking she could push away those words with force of will, for daring to think that she'd never let herself be hurt again.

Silence in response. The silence felt good, and it felt so good as the seconds stretched on, but it only made the pain worse because it wouldn't last forever and when it ended it would hurt so much it would grind her to dust.

She had to pull the pin, she knew. When Kyle had dislocated his shoulder and she and Lonnie held him down so Rogelio could shove it back into place they'd told him 'it's better if it's quick.' Maybe they'd been right.

'Do it. Say it.' Tears burned her cheeks. 'Say it!'

Scorpia's voice sounded so very small through the transmitter. 'We covered it in Force Captain orientation…'

Catra groaned. The tears dried and once the wave of shame flowed through her the knots in her shoulders and the brittle rock in her throat softened. As the tension left, something worse took its place.

'It was easy to miss! I swear, it was a single line in the main presentation. I don't even think it was in the handout. Maybe it was in the appendices, I should take a look and see--'

'Okay, whatever, lemme get this straight--Hordak put poison in the brown blocks, and all the poison we ate is finally hurting us after all these years?'

'It wasn't poison, it was preventative medicine. As soon as we stopped eating it, it slowly wore off, and now we're just going through what would have happened naturally without it.'

'What? Listen to yourself, there's nothing "natural" about this! It's completely wrong, it's not right, it…' Desperation crept back into her voice. 'H-have you gone through this?'

'Oh yeah, big time.'

'What's going to happen to me?'

'First thing is you're gonna really want to find someone special and just… lock your claws with them. Really get in there tight, pincer on pincer like you're never gonna let them go. After that you get the weak venom in your stinger but there's a lot of it and it'll feel so full like it's ready to burst, and you just get an urge to hold someone tight and pepper them with stings while they--'

'Scorpia, I don't think it works the same for me.'

'Oh.'

'I don't have a stinger.'

'You don't, I'm sorry. Of course.'

'Can you at least tell me how long it lasts?'

'Three days, four days tops if it's dry and someone is bringing you food. After that you're in the clear.'

Three days. Three days was… possible. The exercise was supposed to take three days, but it could just as easily take four days or even five days! As long as she didn't screw up and let Adora catch her early, she'd be free and clear when they met up at the final checkpoint.

'Okay, I got it. Thanks for the heads up.'

'Are you sure you want to continue? It's only the first day, we could call this off until you're feeling better.'

'No way, I'm not letting Adora--I'm not letting everyone think I'll screw up our training just cause I feel weird.'

'All right. Do you have your pencil ready? The co-ordinates for the next transmission point are X623, Y031, Z108.'

'…Y031, Z108, got it. I'm outta here.'

'I'll talk to you soon. And good luck!'

Catra closed the line. She looked down at the map and up at the horizon. East by north-east there was a hill with a forest, and past that a bigger hill with a darker forest, and past that was a clearing with the next transmission point. A skilled scout could make it there in fourteen hours. She'd do it in ten.

The rain had stopped. She'd rigged her poncho to keep the rain off her head while she set up the transmitter. As she took it down, she poured off the pooled water into her canteen, which had been running dry a whole lot quicker than usual over the past day. She shook the oilcloth dry, rolled it into a side pouch on her backpack, and slung the bag on her back. She was going to be fine. She was going to win this.

…what the heck was an 'estrus suppressant' anyway?

#story #fanfic #she ra #catradora

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