#radio isotope | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dostoyevsky-official · 2 months

Text

Natalia Arno was fully inside the hotel room before she noticed the smell. It was sickly sweet, like a cheap perfume at the drug store, only more nauseating. [...] The Russian activist and non-profit director had been on the road, meeting with donors and organisers looking for ways to bolster democracy back in Russia. [...] Three hours later, Arno woke up with an excruciating pain inside her mouth — a burning sensation so unbearable she could barely open it. [...] By the time she had checked in at the airport, she could no longer stand straight. Her vision was blurred; she wobbled. In her mouth, she tasted stone. On the plane, Arno began hallucinating. Ever since Vladimir Lenin set up his poison factory, known as the “Special Room”, over a century ago, poisonings have become one of the Kremlin’s preferred ways to eliminate, cripple or terrorise enemies and critics. Over the decades, it has built up unrivalled expertise in the field. [...] Most targeted poisonings are, by design, hard to detect. [...] The horrific details of Russian poisoning attacks have accumulated over decades: the hiding of a ricin pellet inside the tip of an umbrella said to have been used in 1978 to stab the Bulgarian dissident writer Georgi Markov in the leg, killing him in less than a week. The placing of a radioactive isotope, Polonium-210, in the green tea drunk by the former Russian security services agent and Putin critic Alexander Litvinenko in 2006. The smearing of one novichok variant, a deadly nerve agent, on the British double agent Sergei Skripal’s door in 2018 and another on Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny’s underpants in a Siberian hotel room in 2020. [...] In October 2022, Elena Kostyuchenko, a Russian journalist working for the independent news outlet Meduza, became violently ill on her way back to Berlin from Munich. The same month, Irina Babloyan, a radio journalist with an independent station, got sick on the day she was meant to travel back from Tbilisi to Berlin via Armenia. Kostyuchenko and Babloyan experienced similar symptoms: sharp pain in the upper abdomen, palms that burnt or swelled, severe vertigo and fatigue. [...] Western governments may struggle to keep up with the security threat. The universe of potential toxic chemicals is limitless — and the advance of technology has multiplied the ways in which an enemy might use them. “There are agents we don’t even know exist that are out there [being used] right now . . . That makes it really hard to do analytics,” Holstege said. Most toxicology labs do not have experience in examining state-sponsored poisonings using unusual toxic agents. [...] When we spoke over the phone, Grozev was unfazed by the argument that the victims weren’t high-profile-enough targets. “Talking to insiders in the security services, there’s a clear understanding that the concept of a ‘traitor’ is much more easily assigned these days than before,” he said. “Any Russian who opposes the war or criticises Putin now is a potential victim.”

Russia’s terrifyingly effective poisoning operation

168 notes · View notes

senkusphone · 6 months

Text

Dr. Stone chapter 1D Trivia post

Spoilers ahead

We knew there was a slippery slope but we didn't know which one it was.

First things first, as we saw, Kaseki was not dead after all, and neither was Francois.

This clears things from chapter 232.5 (Dr. Stone Terraforming) where Kaseki was not shown at all, and although Francois was shown to be at the plane at the moment of the crash, they were never shown to be rescued.

We do get a glimpse at Senku throughout his lifetime (hypothetically at least). The pictured time machine, just like the large one they are building, features the telltale disk from the movie "The time machine" (duh) from 1960, based on a novel by H.G. Wells, written in 1895.

We also see him using a bunch of yagi antennas again, as well as a small satellite dish, all pointed in different directions in his homebrew setup, perhaps in an attempt to catch the signal regardless of which direction it's coming from. A concern I've heard is why would Byakuya contact Senku's future attempt but not the one from his childhood, and the answer likely boils down to the technology. As Xeno said they used a specialized detector to spot tiny bursts of petrification beam

I am not sure what such a detector might entail, but since the petri beam involves a flash of light, perhaps something like a photomultiplier tube could do it, as they can detect individual photons

The Tokyo Sky Tree is a radio tower, housing a restaurant and an observation deck, it is also the tallest manmade structure in Japan with a height of 634 meters, or 532.7 times the canon height of Suika in chapter 178.

Here it looks like they've drawn the wrong design for the medusa capsule, this one has a speaker on the inside like the original that was sent to the moon, whereas once whyman was discovered, they changed the design to one with a small antenna in its place, and a speaker/microphone on the outside for them to communicate.

This is what I feel like in university

Yes we are

next up, energy

1.21 Exawatts has no basis I know of other than being a reference to the 1.21 Gigawatts used by the time machine from Back to the Future. 1 exawatt = 1000000000 gigawatts, so I guess Dr. Brown's machine was actually very fuel efficient.

The (exa)watt is technically not a unit of energy but rather of the rate of energy transfer (or how fast energy's being delivered in layman's terms).

I assume he means (exa) watt-hours, a multiple of the watt-hour, which is an energy unit handy for working with electricity calculations. This amount of energy is equivalent to a bit shy of 900000 megatons of TNT. However, if you could capture 100% of the sun's output (and I mean all of it, a la dyson sphere, not just what hits the earth, and with 100% efficiency) and store it, you could collect that amount of energy in just under 30 seconds. This amount is also probably larger than the consumption of humanity over the last 60 years. It is in fact larger than the energy consumed wordwide between 1800 and 2010 by a factor of about two, going from adding and converting the data here.

https://www.encyclopedie-energie.org/en/world-energy-consumption-1800-2000-results/

Helium 3 is an isotope of helium with a nucleus made of 2 protons and 1 neutron (unlike normal helium which consists of 2 and 2 of each).

Because it's a very light gas, it tends to float away from the earth and get swept off into space much like regular helium does, and it is believed that larger amounts of it will be available on the moon, where it is formed naturally in a slow but steady supply when natural lithium is bombarded with neutrons from cosmic rays. Helium 3 can theoretically function as fuel in a fusion reactor, having the advantage that it does not release neutrons in the reaction, meaning it does not bombard other materials inside the reactor making them radioactive (and He-3 is not radioactive itself either).

The big issues are its low availability and the fact that a reactor for this fuel would need even higher temperatures than the reactors we are experimenting with today, and we are barely starting. On that note, Tsukasa eating chip

These robots are very strange, they walk on their claws, only having wheels at the back and carrying what looks a lot like an old time minecart. If anyone knows what the name Johnny 7 might be referring to, let me know. So far I can see that there was a sentient robot named Johnny 5 in the 1986 film Short Circuit, which looked like this.

I could also note that the robots have "Battery A" and "Battery B" noted on them.

It might just be a coincidence, but I like to think it might be a nod to an early project in the series, the cellphone.

The cellphone had two battery packs, the lead acid pack to run the vacuum tube filament, and Gen's manganese battery pack, which ran the tube anode. Historically these two battery packs were designated "A" and "B".

For the record this is also the reason you can buy AAA, AA, C, and D size cells, but no B batteries. Those batteries used to exist, but they don't anymore, since the equipment they powered is long obsolete. Next up, Chrome has a flashback to Ruri's flashback.

Kirisame's headpiece has reverted to the seldom seen spiral horn version, she is most typically seen with the one shaped like cat ears.

Next up:

No, I will not apologise

This does not seem to be the same restaurant mentioned in chapter 43, though I guess it could have changed, since Senku seems older (might it be the restaurant in the sky tree?)

Also Senku puts on Byakuya's coat that was on the back of his chair.

Speaking of chapter 43...

Ukyo is not well

It's no longer Nanami Corp, it's just Ryusui

To conclude, my take on what is happening

It's been hinted multiple times that we may see the involvement of alternate timelines, which comes as an answer to the occurence of a paradox if Senku were to travel back in time or even just contact himself. The title of the chapter comes to echo this. Higher dimensions have been a bit of a popular topic lately with people making games in four dimensions, etcetera. This however is not that by the looks of it, the fourth dimension mentioned would be an additional time dimension, which can be interpreted as the existence of convergent or divergent timelines. One of the less obvious things that remain to be seen is how Byakuya (or someone pretending to be him) knew when and where to contact someone in a different timeline. We also don't know where in time they are located. It is assumed at first that the incoming message is from the future but if we are dealing with a parallel universe it may as well be coming from the past or even be coming in in "real time" (as if such concepts of relative time held up in multidimensional time).

Suika cute pose

50 notes · View notes

netmassimo · 11 days

Text

At the European Geophysical Union General Assembly held in Vienna last week, NASA's Juno mission principal investigator Scott Bolton illustrated some new discoveries offered by the Juno space probe, including some regarding Io, Jupiter's volcano-covered moon. Io was also studied by a team of researchers who used the ALMA radio telescope to map the movements of sulfur isotopes and reconstruct the tidal heating that generates the intense volcanic activity. The results were published in an article in the journal "Journal of Geophysical Research: Planets".

#astronomy #Juno #Jupiter #Io #volcanoes #Loki Patera

15 notes · View notes

iaminsideyourwalls · 11 months

Note

Reactor is SO fun and intriguing. Is she full of hatred? Does she have a favorite element/chemical compound? Is she single. Asking for a friend. In all seriousness, though, please tell us more about her! I love women who probably are radioactive.

Aww, thank you, that's so nice that you think she's interesting!

I think they're all filled with a little hatred, so it's only natural. She's used to working with Uranium and Hydrogen but her favorite isotope is Cesium 137. Those little pucks were her best friend when she calibrated her Geiger counters day in and day out. This is followed closely by Cesium 135. She is single, she's had very little contact with people in the past decade while she lives alone in an uninhabitable area until she's discovered and picked up for a job. Spending too much time around her without a lead vest might make you sick, though.

Let's see, what are some more fun facts... She's been listening to music on a hand-crank radio for years, since the area where her plant melted down got cut off from the power grid. Eventually she started broadcasting on her own, just rambling nonsense theories and playing the same songs over and over hauntingly. Really freaked people out not knowing where this voice was broadcasting from. She talks to herself almost constantly, makes puppets out of her friends' belongings, rearranges the furniture without asking people, collects scrap metal, and when she finds something to kill time she latches on to it. All sorts of behaviors you might see in someone who had an entire ghost town to roam around in alone for years.

I'd love to hear other people's takes on her, I don't have a whole lot established for her yet!

#tf2 #team fortess 2 #tf2 ocs #10th class oc #tf2 10th class #10th class #tenth class #tenth class oc

41 notes · View notes

fatehbaz · 2 years

Text

So even though the Tsavo Man-Eater story has clearly been mythologized and thoroughly corrupted by and for European and United States audiences, I think that I understand why you could still half-sincerely consider the infamous lion attacks as a sort of supernatural vengeance against British imperialism and the global expansion of industrial-scale resource extraction and finance capital.

Maybe, if only the victims had not been local African laborers and subjugated South Asian workers.

However, supernatural implications aside, all of this mass death in Africa -- death from both the Tsavo lion attacks and the mass death from famine following the 1890s rinderpest plague -- can still be attributed to European and US imperialism.

There is clear cause-and-effect, you can clearly see how death was caused by European industry, even if the agents enacting the killing happen to manifest as a Tsavo lion or a tsetse fly or a microscopic rinderpest virus.

The Tsavo Man-Eater story is such an interesting and eerily appropriate encapsulation of how European and US imperialism incite death, it’s almost too on-the-nose.

Radios, electric lighting, motor vehicles, convenient refrigerated food. And soon, in the near future, airplanes and motion pictures. In the 1890s, as the Gilded Age and Edwardian era brought wealth and “progress” to Europe and the United States, at a time when London and New York City and Berlin were experiencing a sort of golden age of prosperity, mass death swept across the rest of the planet.

And it wasn’t a coincidence.

---

The story was made famous across the planet after publication of the book The Man-Eaters of Tsavo (1907), authored by John Henry Patterson, the “hero” who killed the two voracious lion villains. Patterson was a British Army soldier, an adventurer, and a big-game hunter. His book later inspired multiple major Hollywood productions, including Killers of Kilimanjaro (1959) and The Ghost and the Darkness (1996). For those unfamiliar, British colonialist/imperialist military officers and engineers were constructing a railway bridge over the Tsavo River of Kenya as part of the major Kenya-Uganda Railway system to connect East African coastal ports with the interior of the continent to consolidate British imperial power at the height of the Scramble for Africa. Several thousand construction workers lived near the site in camps, and the British imported many workers from colonial territory in India and South Asia. The Uganda Railway contracted Patterson to oversee the construction of the bridge. Patterson was also the one who oversaw the response to the many lion attacks. (After service as an officer in the First World War, Patterson would become known, in Bi/bi Netan/yahu’s words, as “the godfather of the I/sraeli army.”)

Between March 1898 and December 1898, at least 28 workers were attacked and killed by lions. Probably two especially-cunning male lions, without manes. In his reports and book, Patterson himself claimed that at least 135 men were killed by these lions in 1898. (The 28-death estimate was reached by isotopic analysis of presumed human signatures in the preserved remains of the lions, but this estimate would be an approximation of how many humans were fully consumed and doesn’t account for humans that might otherwise have been killed but not entirely consumed.) We don’t know how many people were killed during this period, because many “missing” workers may have absconded, left the site. Records are also unreliable probably because British officers didn’t care too much for the well-being of African and South Asian workers. In December 1898, Patterson finally shot and killed the two maneless lions now on display at the esteemed Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago.

The British Empire moves in to consolidate power, to conquer Africa, and even in these initial stages of building railways and roadways, the empire sacrifices the lives of African and South Asian laborers.

---

Why would the lions specialize in hunting humans?

Another way to phrase the question: How can human injustice and institutionalized violence contribute to death from “natural” causes?

In Tsavo, specifically, it’s been proposed that the centuries of slave-trading in the Indian Ocean contributed to the lions’ preference for hunting humans. The local area around the Tsavo bridge/crossing was traversed by slave-trading caravans en route eastward to Zanzibar. For years, bodies of those enslaved people who didn’t survive the caravan were probably left behind in the Tsavo landscape, allowing -- in this proposal -- the lions to get used to the taste of humans. Hard to determine for sure.

But there’s more violence at work.

Italian colonialists brought imported cattle to East Africa in 1887 to feed their forces in war against Somalia.

It is thought that these cattle were the source of the rinderpest epidemic/epizootic plague which devastated Africa throughout the 1890s.

Rinderpest doesn’t just affect domesticated cattle and its attendant “modernized” agricultural industries. The 1890s rinderpest plague also devastated native ungulates, including gazelles, antelope, and wildebeest.

So millions of domesticated cattle died, leading to mass starvation across the African continent. And millions of native African ungulates died, leading to ecological upheaval.

In the 1890s, it is estimated that one-third of Ethiopian people and two-thirds of the Maasai people died due to this rinderpest-plague-induced famine.

Then, alongside this famine, global drought emerged in response to an El Nino event in 1897 (unfortunately quickly followed by more El Nino events in 1899 and 1902). The drought pummeled sub-Saharan Africa.

Because the rinderpest plague killed herds of native ungulates simultaneously as the famine killed humans, former grazing grounds in grasslands were colonized by thornbush. And thornbush is perfect habitat for tsetse flies.

These tsetse flies then spread sleeping sickness to humans, leading to more plague, misery, mass death.

The thornbush expansion also functions as part of a feedback loop: Ungulate herds diminsh, so thornbush expands, and the “new” thornbush habitat is undesirable for ungulate grazing, so the herds don’t return.

The mass death of cattle and native ungulates in the mid and late 1890s has also been proposed by some to be part of the reason why Tsavo’s lions resorted to apparently specialize in hunting and killing humans in the absences of ungulates to feed upon.

---

In the 1890s, the famines and plagues in sub-Saharan Africa coincided with the Third Plague Pandemic devastating Asia; catastrophic food shortages in Indonesia, the Philippines, and mainland Southeast Asia; smallpox epidemics in Brazil; cholera epidemics in China. Millions of people, from Korea across Asia and Africa to the ranches and mines of Latin America, died from famine alone.

Meanwhile, aristocrats played in parlors of London and New York, gazing from balconies upon new factories, new electric lights, new motor vehicles, new radios, new copper wiring, new technologies, and a new century.

Fin de siecle, indeed. How’d they pay for it? How did civilization purchase this prosperity?

Blame it on the lions, a tsetse fly, a rinderpest virus, “natural” El Nino events, whatever. Misery at this scale doesn’t just happen.

170 notes · View notes

periodictabletournament · 1 year

Text

Round 2 - Matchup 31

Protactinium 91 (Pa) - The very long half life of the most common isotope makes protactinium suitable for radio dating deep ocean sediment.

Radium 88 (Rd) - If you're on tumblr you've seen the posts about the radium girls. The ones who painted the watch dials for the glow in the dark watches.

#Protactinium #Radium #periodic polls #tournament polls

34 notes · View notes

itsnunoclock · 2 months

Text

A Leap of Faith | Rated G | Jackie / Shauna, Nat / Shauna | Part 4 of Odds and Ends series | Word count: 2,006 Tags: One Shot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Shauna Shipman, Pre-Plane Crash (Yellowjackets), Soccer, Teen Timeline (Yellowjackets) --- Shauna Shipman knew two things with ironclad certainty: soccer made sense and love did not. In the euphoric aftermath of their victory, the Yellowjackets come together for a celebratory group photo. ---

Shauna Shipman knew two things with ironclad certainty: soccer made sense and love did not.

On the field, she understood her role with crystalline clarity. Center midfielder, the beating heart of the team’s 4-4-2 formation. Always in motion, Shauna lived to control the middle of the field, to stifle the opposition’s attacks and spring her own forwards free. It was a 90-minute high-wire act of balance and precision, but one she’d performed since forever.

The grass stains on her knees and the burning in her lungs after a hard sprint felt more real than any of the insipid love songs crooning from mall speakers or her car radio. Those sugary melodies sang of love as some aspirational prize, all dramatic professions and happily ever afters wrapped in a tidy bow.

But Shauna had seen what lay beneath the shiny plastic veneer of suburbia. The hairline fractures and rotting foundations behind every picket fence smile, the furious silences stretching between her parents louder than any shouted argument. Love was a con, she’d decided long ago. An unstable isotope, decaying from the moment it was formed.

On the soccer field, at least, the rules stayed blessedly constant. The comforting geometry of the penalty box, the reliable rhythm of a well-executed give-and-go. Shauna could chart her course on muscle memory alone, Jackie always exactly where she needed to be to receive the pass, Lottie reliably hugging the touchline, Van an unyielding sentinel in goal. There were no hidden traps waiting to trip her up, just the black and white certainty of the scoreboard when the final whistle blew.

Maybe that was why she kept coming back year after year, despite the burning in her thighs and the way her heart felt like it might pound out of her chest. Because for 90 minutes (and maybe a handful more if Tai got her way), Shauna’s world made sense. On the field she was pure kinetic energy, the simple Newtonian physics of a body in motion. Soccer stripped her life down to the bare essentials: get ball, keep ball, put ball in net. Lather, rinse, repeat.

No hidden agendas, no false promises. Just 21 other girls and 2 goals and 1 ball, the elegant simplicity of action and reaction. The scoreboard never lied.

But love? Love was a four-letter word Shauna had long ago excised from her vocabulary. Just like all those other rose-tinted myths crammed down her throat since before she could walk. Prince Charming and happily ever afters and forevers that lasted until someone better came along or the going got tough or dad’s secretary bent over in a short enough skirt.

No, Shauna didn’t put much stock in forevers those days. She’d stick to 90 minutes instead, to the bruises and turf burns and shouts of her own name, the blessedly finite sprint from kickoff to final whistle.

That was enough for her. It had to be.

Except . . . somewhere in the sweat and the struggle and the desperate gasps for air, there was another four-letter word Shauna couldn’t quite dislodge. One that pulsed in time with her racing heart as she tracked Jackie’s darting runs, that rose in her throat like a cheer when Nat nutmegged a hapless defender. It was tangled and treacherous as a vine climbing towards the sun, but just as determined to take root.

And maybe, Shauna thought as Lottie sent a cross arcing her way and Jackie screamed for the ball, it wasn’t that different from soccer after all. Maybe love didn’t make sense and it didn’t follow rules and it sure as hell didn’t come with any guarantees.

But still she found herself leaning into it all the same, caught in its inexorable pull as surely as a satellite orbiting a star. All she could do was hold on tight, surrender to gravity, and pray the ride wouldn’t burn her up on re-entry.

So she did the only thing that had ever made sense. Shauna trapped the ball on her chest, looked up, and launched it into space.

And then?

She ran.

The referee’s whistle pierced through the clamor of the crowd, its shrill note heralding the end of the match. Shauna glanced up at the scoreboard, the numbers emblazoned there taking a moment to register through the haze of exhaustion: Wiskayok 3, Red Bank 1. They’d done it. They’d won the county championship.

Before the reality could fully sink in, Jackie’s arms were around her, the force of the hug nearly lifting Shauna off her feet. “We did it, Shauna! We fucking did it!” Jackie’s voice was hoarse from shouting, her breath hot against Shauna’s ear.

Shauna laughed, a giddy, breathless sound, and returned the embrace just as fiercely. Around them, the rest of the team converged in a tangle of sweaty limbs and elated shouts, the exhaustion of the hard-fought game momentarily forgotten in the rush of triumph. They jumped up and down, a pulsing mass of blue and yellow, until the need for air forced them apart.

As the initial euphoria began to ebb, Jackie disentangled herself from the group, her eyes sparkling with an idea. “Someone grab a camera!”

The suggestion was met with enthusiastic agreement, and the team began to assemble in front of the net, jostling each other good-naturedly as they jockeyed for position. Tai playfully shoved Van, who, in a burst of her usual theatrics, flopped onto the grass in front of everyone, striking a pose on her side with the ball resting against her stomach. Shauna found herself front and center, Jackie’s arm slung comfortably around her shoulders, the weight of it both familiar and thrilling.

“Misty! Get in here!” Nat called out, pale hands waving enthusiastically at their equipment manager from her spot between Shauna and Akilah. Misty, her face flushed with a mixture of shyness and exertion, ducked her head but scurried over to join the lineup beside Akilah.

Coach Scott surveyed the group, a rare smile softening his usually stern features. “Alright, everyone squeeze in!” He waved them closer, his eyes assessing the composition. “Misty, turn a bit to your left, please.”

As the team shuffled and compressed, Shauna became acutely aware of Nat’s presence to her right, the small space between them crackling with the residual energy of the game. Lottie, sitting on one knee in the front row, muttered something about Nat’s Italian heritage that Shauna didn’t quite catch, but it made Nat grin and raise her hand in a pinch gesture. Nat’s eyes caught Shauna’s, a fleeting moment of shared amusement, and Shauna felt an answering smile tug at her lips, charmed by the shy dimple that appeared on Nat’s cheek.

Then Jackie was adjusting her pose, her fingers brushing lightly against the 6 emblazoned on Shauna’s jersey, and suddenly Shauna’s focus narrowed to that single point of contact. The casual intimacy of the touch, the way Jackie’s hand lingered just a beat longer than necessary, made Shauna’s heart stutter in her chest, a familiar yet always surprising reaction.

It was always like this with Jackie - a constant push and pull, an undercurrent of something Shauna couldn’t quite name. Or maybe she could, but putting a label on it meant acknowledging the enormity of what she felt, the depth of her longing.

It was easier to focus on soccer, on the simplicity of the game. Pass, shoot, score. Cause and effect. Neat lines and clear objectives.

Not like the messy tangle of emotions that surfaced every time Jackie hugged her just a little too tight or fixed her with that soft, secret smile that seemed reserved only for Shauna.

“Okay, on three! One, two . . . ”

Shauna turned back to the camera, trying to school her features into something resembling a normal smile. Jackie’s arm tightened around her, pulling her close. The heat of her body, the citrusy scent of her shampoo beneath the sweat and grass, was dizzying.

“Three!” The shutter clicked, capturing the moment for posterity. The team erupted into cheers again, a jubilant mass of blue and yellow, when Laura Lee’s voice cut through the noise, “Let’s take a moment to give thanks.”

A few good-natured groans met her suggestion, but the team obediently formed a loose circle, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Shauna found herself between Jackie and Nat, the warmth of their bodies bracketing her own.

Laura Lee began to speak, her voice steady and clear. “Dear Lord, we thank you for the strength and unity you’ve given us today. May we always remember the bonds we share, both on and off the field. Amen.”

A chorus of “Amen” echoed around the circle, some more enthusiastic than others. As Shauna murmured the word, she felt Jackie’s hand find hers, their fingers intertwining with practiced ease. On her other side, another hand brushed against hers, tentative but unmistakable.

“Alright, ladies, line up! Time for the handshake.”

Soccer was simple. Straightforward. You gave everything you had for ninety minutes, left it all on the field. There was a strange sort of peace in that single-minded focus, in surrendering to the flow of the game. The field was a world unto itself, a place where the only things that mattered were the ball at your feet and the teammates by your side.

But as the last hand was shaken and the teams began to drift apart, reality started to creep back in. And in the stillness that followed, in the quiet of the locker room or the hush of the bus ride home, Shauna’s thoughts always circled back to Jackie.

Sweet, stubborn, magnetic Jackie. Her best friend, her captain, the axis around which Shauna’s world turned. The one constant in a life that often felt like shifting sands beneath her feet.

It terrified Shauna sometimes, the depth of her feelings. The way her heart seized at the mere brush of Jackie’s hand, the way her skin tingled at the sound of her laugh. It was too much, too big, too all-consuming. A force as powerful and unpredictable as a free kick bending around a wall of defenders.

But maybe that was okay.

Maybe love wasn’t meant to make sense. Maybe it was supposed to be messy and confusing and utterly terrifying. Maybe that’s what made it so exhilarating, so worth chasing despite the risk of fumbling.

After all, wasn’t that the beauty of soccer? The unpredictability of it, the way the game could pivot on a dime? One moment you’re on the defensive, scrambling to protect your goal. The next, you’re surging forward, the ball dancing at your feet, the world blurring around you as you race towards the opposite end of the field.

It hadn’t always been this way for Shauna. There was a time when soccer was just another obligation, another box to check off on the endless list of expectations. But somewhere along the way, something had shifted.

And now, as she stood on the precipice of something new and terrifying and exciting, she couldn’t help but draw parallels between the two.

Love, Shauna was starting to realize, was not so different from soccer. It was a series of unexpected twists and turns, of setbacks and breakthroughs. It was the thrill of the unknown, the exhilaration of taking a leap of faith, of putting your heart on the line for something - for someone - that could change everything.

It was worth the risk of getting hurt, worth the uncertainty that came with stepping into uncharted territory. Because the alternative - a life without Jackie, without this wild, heart-pounding, breath-stealing feeling - was unimaginable.

Love and soccer. One intangible and elusive, the other solid and grounded. But at their core, they were two sides of the same coin, each a reflection of the other. Both demanding everything you had, both offering the chance at something extraordinary. The twin forces that kept her running, kept her chasing after dreams both on and off the field.

She might never fully understand love the way she understood soccer. But damn if she wasn’t going to keep playing the game.

#jackieshauna one shot #shaunanat one shot #jackieshauna #shaunanat #earlier parts of the series can be found in my ao3 #i googled the heck out of soccer for this one #bc i clearly don't know anything about soccer #except that you kick balls and stuff

3 notes · View notes

omegaremix · 2 months

Text

Omega Radio for March 1, 2020; #220.

Chain Cult “City Of Ruins”

Church Whip “Incadescere”

Pure Disgust “Clown”

Armor “Fraud”

Crisis Man “Sorta Dead”

Crooked Cross “Communion”

Pure Pressure “Open Case”, “Ya’ Better Get It Right!”

Tercer Mundo “Horrible Realidad”

Totalitar “Sista Kriget”

Ajax “Priced”

Bloodkrow Butcher “Big Brother”

Glue “Pig Fucker”

Die “B.T.K.”

Ivy “A Bum And A Playboy”

K9 Sniffies “Huffin’ Shit”

Rixe “Trainspotters”

Kegcharge “Medal Of Honor”

Deathcharge “Discarded Dreams”

Rumores “Heatwave”

Krimewatch “平和の夢“

Black Boot “Spitshine”

Diaspora “In Place”

Degreaser “Shithouse Man”

Kaleidoscope “Son Of Sand” / “Looking Glass”

Laughing Hyenas “Don’t Bouge My High”

Chain Hex “Final Gasp”

False Figure “Relics”

Life Lock “Indiscriminately Kill”

Mystique “Pressure Of Steel Hands”

Acrylics “Mother Was A Baby”

Blood Loss “Relentless”

Rut “My Skin”

Beehive “When Can I See You Again?

Ill Globo “Streamlined Success”

Summer Of Blood “Rotten Fruit”

Gutter Knife “Abuse Of Power”

Isotope “Not So Distant”

Arms Race “Distort Brittania”

JJ Doll “No One”

School Drugs “Side FX”

Drug Lust “Church Bitch”

Haram “Blood”

Perra Vida “Dime No Que”

Ratface “Bleak Futures”

Blood Pressure “Useless”

Denim & Leather “Bleeding Glass (Joe Smythe)”

Activations “Get Back”

Drunkdriver “To Whom It May Concern”

Easy Action “Out Cold”

Pandemix “The Pornography Of Hope”

Peste “Mercy”

Impalers “High Wired”

Bonus broadcast continues from Leap Day and begins WUSB’s week, month, and season for the second of three consecutive shows. Punk, noise punk, thrash, cassettes, demos and 45′s.

2 notes · View notes

spacetimewithstuartgary · 11 days

Text

Atmospheric isotopes reveal 4.5 billion years of volcanism on Jupiter’s moon Io

Sulfur and chlorine isotopes in the atmosphere of Jupiter’s moon Io indicate that it has been volcanically active for the entire 4.57 billion-year history of the Solar System, according to a new study.

The findings offer new insights into the moon’s history.

Io is the most volcanically active body in the Solar System.

This extreme level of volcanic activity is the result of tidal heating from friction generated within the moon’s interior as it is pulled between Jupiter and its neighboring moons of Europa and Ganymede.

However, how long Io has hosted such extensive volcanism isn’t fully understood.

Due to the moon’s current level of volcanic activity, the surface of Io is constantly being reworked, leaving a geological record of only the most recent million years of its history.

Stable isotopic measurements of volatile elements in Io’s atmosphere could provide information on the history of volcanism on Io.

Katherine de Kleer and colleagues used the Atacama Large Millimeter/submillimeter Array (ALMA) to observe the gasses in Io’s tenuous atmosphere and determine the stable isotopic radios of sulfer- and chlorine-bearing molecules.

de Kleer et al. found that both elements are highly enriched in heavy isotopes compared to average Solar System values due to the loss of lighter isotopes from the upper atmosphere as material is continuously recycled between Io’s interior and atmosphere.

The findings indicate that Io has lost 94% to 99% of the sulfur that undergoes this outgassing and recycling process.

According to the authors, this would require Io to have had its current level of volcanic activity for its entire lifetime.

#science #space #astronomy #physics #news #astrophysics #IO #JUPITER

2 notes · View notes

nucleiaster · 10 months

Text

Have you ever heard a spaceship sing ?

#digital painting #sci fi story #science fantasy #original comic #artist on tumblr #the artowl #radio isotope #some radio isotope lore delivered in a cryptic manner :) enjoy!

92 notes · View notes

symphony-calamity · 7 months

Text

I'm not actually getting a cat (sadly), I just want to know.

#screaming out of the void

2 notes · View notes

lhs3020b · 2 years

Text

Oh so we’re back here again, are we? Another Tory PM?

Californium-249 and radon-216 have half-lives of ~45 days; both of these radio-isotopes last longer than Liz Truss did. Yes, it’s been another surreal day in UK internal politics.

We really are the shitshow that just can’t stop shitting, aren’t we?

#I am so sick of Tories #I am so sick of the Tory Party #I am so fed up of its awful leaders #I am fed up of its awful MPs #I am fed up of its awful members #I want all of them to go the f*** away #UK internal politics

7 notes · View notes

ldwritesstuff · 2 years

Text

ABCs

So, I had an assignment for a class, a challenge where the sentence had to start with the letter of the alphabet, in order. Plus one sentence that had to be 100 words long. figured I would post it here because why not? Disclaimer: lyrics from "Uranium Fever" by Elton Britt used in here, I do not own the song

"A is for?"

Boring, one would think, sitting in the back of a classroom. Classroom in the middle of nowhere. Dusty nowhere where even the tumbleweeds avoid with one street light, one street going in and out; careful, one blinks and suddenly, they are back out in the middle of nothing, doesn't anyone find such a fatal fate disturbing? Every day, one would rise with the sun, hit the books and then leave back to a super on the table, hopefully. Forgetting the fact that the farmers work the dusty fields, no crops being grown in said fields.Get up, dust the atomic fields, and then go back to bed. How anyone would find such a life peaceful doesn't know peace. Instead, one sits here, watching the day go by further and fourth, the sun rise and fall, the tattered buildings with the paint peeling, the grass artificial and the blue sky misleading, the people here with a fake lively gaze when all the knew was rot and decay, letting their false glowing smiles lure on in before one finds themselves trapped in this forever town, isolated from a world outside with a wall as far as the eye can see, the cattle that do roam glowing faintly in the dark, underneath an untampered sky, while the youth waste away here.

Just waiting is all one can do. Killing time slowly with the same routine, the same papers turning, decaying into oblivion. Listening to the teacher drone on and on about . . . something, one would lose count.

“Man, atomic shit again?”

Never mind the fact that one was in a one room classroom where even the faintest of whispers echo off the wooden walls. Or the fact that folks were already irritated because the metal taste in their mouths was stronger today, after the ground rumbled this morning.

“Please do not talk while i’m teaching, unless you have a question? Or feel like skipping recess?”

Quite the opposite, it was too hot to be outside today, way too hot, like a second sun burning the ground or trying to catch it on fire. Really now, the weatherman promised some rain, once again not counting on today saying no to such a thing. Still, one can hope that the tiny cloud in the sky will suddenly blow up into a massive storm. The teacher turned their back and started writing another assignment on the blackboard, mentioning more drills to practice at home with the family to bond.

“ . . . . Uranium feverrrr! has done and got me down

Uranium fever is spreadin' all around . . . .” a car with their windows down and radio turned up, passing by and leaving as fast as it came.

“Very good! The half life of plutonium is 24110 years!”

Would be nice, if the town did the same, and yet it still stands to this day, no matter what happens only a few miles just off the border of the county, lives going on even as everything outside the bubble here decays?

“--Xenon-133 is the more useful isotope of Xenon, with a half life of only 5.37–”

Yet the thing about half life, is how can half life be a thing when the area around you is constantly being hit with blasts of hubris, a name for such a place sits on one’s tongue.

Zero, ground zero.

#this was really hard funny enough #I challenge you to try to do the same #ld writes #original work #original fiction

9 notes · View notes