#Balance of Plant Control Systems

[swamina]

The Importance of Service Engineering in Industry

In today’s fast-moving industrial world, machines and systems must run smoothly. A single failure can stop operations and cause major losses. That’s why service engineering industries play such a key role—they ensure equipment is installed, maintained, and upgraded properly for safe and efficient operations.

Planned Maintenance: Shutdown Overhauling

One vital task is shutdown overhauling service, where engineers inspect and repair equipment during scheduled breaks. They clean parts, replace worn components, and make upgrades to avoid future breakdowns, boosting efficiency and safety.

Installing Boilers and Heat Exchangers

Systems like boilers and heat exchangers are critical for heat production. Proper boiler heat exchanger installation by experts ensures these systems work safely and efficiently. Poor installation can lead to energy loss or dangerous situations.

Balance of Plant Control Systems

Industrial plants rely on various support systems—like air, water, and fuel supply—known as Balance of Plant Control Systems. Service engineers install and maintain these systems so that everything works together without issues.

Service Engineering: Beyond Repairs

Service engineering industries also help improve performance through system upgrades, automation, and energy-saving solutions. They offer fast emergency repair services, help meet environmental standards, and train staff on safety and maintenance.

In short, service engineering professionals are essential partners in keeping modern industries safe, efficient, and future-ready.

For more updates : Swamina International Pvt. Ltd

[golden42]

Radish Growing Guide: Seed to Table in Just Four Weeks

Radishes are one of the quickest and easiest vegetables to grow, making them perfect for both beginner gardeners and seasoned green thumbs. Whether you’re looking to add a peppery crunch to your salads or a vibrant pop of color to your garden, radishes can go from seed to table in just four weeks. Let's dive into the essentials of growing radishes successfully.

Key Takeaways

Radishes can be harvested in as little as four weeks from planting.

Choose seeds based on the radish variety that suits your climate and taste preference.

Plant radishes in well-drained, loose soil with a pH of 6.0 to 7.0 for optimal growth.

Space seeds 1 inch apart and sow them at a depth of 1/2 inch for best results.

Ensure consistent watering, especially during dry spells, to prevent radishes from becoming woody.

Getting Started with Radishes

Before planting radishes, it's crucial to understand what makes them thrive. Radishes are cool-season crops, which means they prefer the cooler temperatures of spring and fall. They grow best in full sun, but they can tolerate partial shade, especially in warmer climates. Most importantly, radishes require well-drained soil to prevent root rot and other moisture-related issues.

One of the most exciting aspects of growing radishes is their rapid growth rate. With some varieties ready to harvest in just 25 days, they are ideal for gardeners who want quick results. Plus, their short growth period allows for multiple plantings throughout the season.

Choosing the Right Seeds

The first step in your radish growing journey is selecting the right seeds. Radishes come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. From the classic red globe radishes to the elongated white daikon, there's a radish for every palate and garden. When choosing seeds, consider your climate, the space you have available, and your taste preferences.

Here are a few popular radish varieties to consider:

Cherry Belle: A classic round, red radish that matures in about 22 days.

French Breakfast: An oblong radish with a mild flavor, ready in 25 days.

Daikon: A large, white radish often used in Asian cuisine, taking 60 days to mature.

Watermelon Radish: Known for its vibrant pink interior, it matures in 60 days.

Understanding Seed Varieties

Different radish varieties have different growing requirements and flavors. For instance, if you live in a region with a short growing season, opt for faster-maturing varieties like Cherry Belle. Conversely, if you have a longer growing season, you might enjoy experimenting with slower-growing types like Daikon.

Besides that, consider the culinary uses of each variety. While Cherry Belle is perfect for salads and garnishes, Daikon is excellent for pickling and cooking. Knowing the characteristics of each type can help you make an informed decision and ensure a successful harvest.

Best Time to Plant

Timing is everything when it comes to planting radishes. They thrive in cooler temperatures, so aim to plant them in early spring or fall. If you’re planting in spring, sow seeds as soon as the soil is workable. For fall planting, start sowing seeds about four to six weeks before the first expected frost.

One key advantage of radishes is their ability to be succession planted. By sowing seeds every two weeks, you can enjoy a continuous harvest throughout the growing season. This technique is particularly useful for maintaining a steady supply of fresh radishes for your kitchen.

"For a continuous harvest, plant radish seeds every two weeks throughout the growing season."

Optimal Soil Preparation

Preparing the soil properly is crucial for growing healthy radishes. They prefer loose, well-drained soil with a pH between 6.0 and 7.0. Heavy clay soils can impede root development, so consider amending such soils with organic matter or sand to improve drainage.

Before planting, work the soil to a depth of at least 12 inches and remove any rocks or debris that might obstruct root growth. Adding compost or aged manure can enhance soil fertility and support robust radish growth.

Planting Techniques for Success

Once your soil is ready, it's time to plant your radish seeds. Planting radishes is straightforward, but following a few key steps can make all the difference in your harvest.

First, make shallow furrows in the soil, about 1/2 inch deep. Space the rows about 12 inches apart to give the radishes room to grow. Next, sprinkle the seeds evenly along the furrows, aiming for a spacing of about 1 inch between seeds. Cover the seeds lightly with soil and water gently to ensure good soil contact.

Sowing Seeds Correctly

Sowing radish seeds at the correct depth and spacing is essential for healthy growth. If seeds are planted too deep, they may struggle to germinate. Conversely, if they are too shallow, they might dry out or be disturbed by wind and rain.

Once planted, keep the soil consistently moist but not waterlogged. Radishes require regular watering, especially during dry spells, to prevent the roots from becoming woody and bitter.

Spacing and Depth Guidelines

Proper spacing is crucial for radishes to develop fully. If planted too closely, they may compete for nutrients and space, resulting in smaller, less flavorful roots. Therefore, thin seedlings to about 2 inches apart once they have two true leaves. This spacing allows each radish ample room to grow without competition. For more detailed planting advice, consider resources like The Self-Sufficient Backyard.

Timing for the Fastest Growth

Radishes are fast-growing plants, but certain factors can influence their growth rate. For the quickest harvest, plant radishes in full sun and ensure they receive at least six hours of sunlight per day. Additionally, maintaining consistent soil moisture and avoiding extreme temperature fluctuations can help radishes grow rapidly and uniformly.

As radishes mature, keep an eye on their growth. Most varieties are ready to harvest when the roots are about an inch in diameter. Harvesting promptly prevents them from becoming overgrown and woody.

Care and Maintenance

Once your radishes are planted, proper care and maintenance will ensure they thrive and reach their full potential. Radishes are relatively low-maintenance, but they do have specific needs that, when met, lead to a bountiful harvest.

One of the most important aspects of radish care is maintaining consistent soil moisture. Radishes need regular watering, particularly during dry spells, to develop crisp and tender roots. Uneven watering can lead to split or misshapen radishes.

Besides watering, keeping the area around your radishes free of weeds is crucial. Weeds compete for nutrients and space, which can hinder the growth of your radishes. Regularly check your garden beds and remove any weeds by hand or with a hoe, being careful not to disturb the shallow roots of the radishes.

Watering Schedule and Tips

Radishes require about an inch of water per week, whether from rainfall or supplemental watering. It's best to water deeply and less frequently to encourage roots to grow deeper into the soil. This practice also helps prevent the soil surface from drying out too quickly.

Water your radishes in the early morning or late afternoon to reduce evaporation and allow the plants to absorb moisture more effectively. Avoid overhead watering, which can encourage fungal diseases; instead, use a soaker hose or drip irrigation system to deliver water directly to the soil.

Fertilizing for Healthy Growth

Radishes are light feeders, so they typically don't require much fertilization. However, if your soil is lacking in nutrients, a light application of a balanced, slow-release fertilizer can support healthy growth. Apply the fertilizer at planting time or when the seedlings are a few inches tall.

Avoid high-nitrogen fertilizers, as they can promote leafy growth at the expense of root development. Instead, look for fertilizers with a balanced ratio of nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium, such as a 10-10-10 formula.

Pest and Disease Management

Although radishes are generally hardy plants, they can still fall prey to pests and diseases. Common pests include flea beetles, aphids, and root maggots. To protect your radishes, consider using row covers to create a physical barrier against these pests.

If pests become a problem, try introducing beneficial insects like ladybugs or lacewings to your garden, as they can help control pest populations naturally. For disease management, practice crop rotation and avoid planting radishes in the same spot each year. This helps prevent the buildup of soil-borne pathogens. For more tips on sustainable gardening, consider exploring The Self-Sufficient Backyard.

Additionally, ensure good air circulation around your radishes by not overcrowding your plants. This can help reduce the risk of fungal diseases, such as downy mildew and damping-off.

Harvesting Radishes

Harvesting radishes at the right time is key to enjoying their crisp, peppery flavor. Radishes that are left in the ground too long can become woody and bitter, so it's important to monitor their growth closely. For those interested in sustainable gardening practices, The Self-Sufficient Backyard provides valuable insights.

Most radish varieties are ready to harvest when the roots reach about one inch in diameter. Regularly check your radishes by gently pulling back the soil to expose the tops of the roots. If they appear to be the right size, it's time to harvest!

Signs of Readiness

Besides size, another sign that your radishes are ready to harvest is the appearance of their tops. Healthy radish tops should be vibrant green and firm. If the leaves start to yellow or wilt, it's a sign that the radishes may be past their prime.

Remember, radishes grow quickly, so check them often. Harvesting them promptly ensures the best flavor and texture.

Harvesting Techniques

To harvest radishes, simply grasp the tops of the plants and gently pull them from the ground. If the soil is compacted or the roots are stubborn, use a garden fork to loosen the soil around the plants before pulling.

After harvesting, rinse the radishes under cool water to remove any soil. Trim the tops and roots to about an inch long to help them store better. Freshly harvested radishes can be enjoyed raw, cooked, or pickled.

Post-Harvest Storage Tips

Radishes are best enjoyed fresh, but if you need to store them, there are a few tips to keep them crisp and flavorful. First, remove the tops, as they draw moisture away from the roots. Store the roots in a plastic bag in the refrigerator's crisper drawer.

To keep them crisp, wrap the radishes in a damp paper towel before placing them in the bag. Stored this way, radishes can last up to two weeks. If your radishes become soft, you can revive them by soaking them in ice water for a few hours before using them.

Common Challenges and Solutions

Growing radishes is generally straightforward, but like any crop, they can face challenges. Whether it's slow growth, pest issues, or splitting, understanding these problems and their solutions can help you achieve a successful harvest.

Most importantly, addressing these challenges early can prevent them from affecting your entire crop. Let's explore some common issues and how to overcome them with insights from The Self-Sufficient Backyard.

Addressing Slow Growth

If your radishes are growing slowly or seem stunted, it could be due to several factors. Poor soil quality, inadequate sunlight, and inconsistent watering are common culprits. Ensure your radishes receive at least six hours of sunlight daily and that the soil is well-drained and nutrient-rich.

Additionally, check for signs of overcrowding. Thinning seedlings to the recommended spacing can improve air circulation and reduce competition for resources, encouraging faster growth.

Dealing with Pests Naturally

To manage pests naturally, consider companion planting. Certain plants, like marigolds and nasturtiums, can deter pests and attract beneficial insects. Additionally, rotating crops each season helps prevent pest populations from becoming established.

For an immediate solution, handpicking pests off your plants can be effective, although time-consuming. Regular monitoring and quick action can help keep pest populations under control and protect your radish crop.

Preventing Radish Splitting

Radish splitting often occurs when the plants receive irregular watering, causing them to absorb too much water too quickly. To prevent this, maintain consistent soil moisture throughout the growing season. Avoid allowing the soil to dry out completely between waterings, as this can lead to rapid water uptake when the plants are watered again.

Another factor that can cause splitting is over-maturity. Harvest radishes promptly when they reach the desired size, as leaving them in the ground too long increases the risk of splitting. Regularly checking your radishes and harvesting them at the right time will ensure they remain crisp and intact.

Culinary Uses and Recipes

Radishes are versatile in the kitchen, adding a peppery crunch to a variety of dishes. They can be enjoyed raw, pickled, roasted, or even sautéed. Their vibrant colors and unique flavors make them a delightful addition to both simple and gourmet meals.

Raw in Salads: Thinly sliced radishes add a refreshing crunch to green salads, slaws, and grain bowls.

Pickled: Quick-pickling radishes in vinegar and spices creates a tangy condiment that pairs well with tacos, sandwiches, and charcuterie boards.

Roasted: Roasting radishes mellows their spiciness and brings out their natural sweetness, making them a great side dish.

Sautéed: Sautéing radishes with butter and herbs creates a simple yet flavorful dish that complements a variety of proteins.

Besides these ideas, radishes can also be used as a garnish, adding visual appeal and a hint of spice to dishes like soups and omelets.

Simple Salad Ideas

One of the simplest ways to enjoy radishes is in a salad. For a classic radish salad, thinly slice fresh radishes and toss them with arugula, feta cheese, and a lemon vinaigrette. The peppery radishes and arugula are balanced by the creamy feta and tangy dressing, creating a harmonious blend of flavors.

Incorporating Radishes in Cooked Dishes

Radishes aren't just for raw dishes; they can also be cooked to bring out different flavors. Try roasting radishes with olive oil, salt, and pepper until they're tender and caramelized. Roasted radishes make a delicious side dish for roasted meats or fish.

Alternatively, sauté sliced radishes with garlic and butter for a quick and tasty side. The cooking process softens their texture and mellows their spiciness, resulting in a delightful dish that's sure to please.

Savory Snacks Featuring Radishes

Radishes can also be transformed into savory snacks. For a healthy and flavorful treat, spread a layer of herbed cream cheese on whole-grain crackers and top with thinly sliced radishes. The combination of creamy, crunchy, and spicy elements makes for a satisfying snack that's perfect for any time of day.

Frequently Asked Questions

As you embark on your radish-growing journey, you may have some questions. Here are answers to common queries that can help you cultivate a successful radish crop.

What is the fastest-growing radish variety?

The Cherry Belle radish is one of the fastest-growing varieties, maturing in just 22 to 28 days. Its quick growth makes it a favorite among gardeners looking for a speedy harvest.

How often should I water radishes?

Radishes require consistent moisture, so water them about once a week, ensuring the soil stays evenly moist. During hot or dry spells, you may need to water more frequently to prevent the soil from drying out completely.

When should I plant radish seeds?

Plant radish seeds in early spring as soon as the soil is workable, or in late summer for a fall harvest. Radishes thrive in cool weather, so timing your plantings to avoid the heat of summer will yield the best results.

What are some common pests of radishes?

Common pests that affect radishes include flea beetles, aphids, and root maggots. To manage these pests, use row covers, introduce beneficial insects, and practice crop rotation to reduce pest populations.

Can I grow radishes indoors?

Yes, radishes can be grown indoors in containers. Choose a sunny spot or use grow lights to provide sufficient light, and ensure the containers have good drainage. Indoor-grown radishes may take slightly longer to mature, but they can be a rewarding addition to your indoor garden.

[moderatetoaboveaverage]

"Boil water to turn fan" as if multistage steam turbine generators are not one of the sexiest kinds of machines every made

nuclear power is impressive until you get up to why. "we use the most precisely engineered machinery ever created to split atoms to release energy" oh yeah how come? "boil water to turn a fan" get the fuck out

[saintshadow]

What should you STOP worrying about? PICK A CARD

Pile One, your significator card is the Six of Wands.

Pile Two, you will be the Fool.

And Pile Three, you will be The Moon.

PILE I

We have the Eight of Cups and the High Priest reversed.

I feel like this pile carries a lot of abandonment wounds and a fear of being left behind. There’s deep pain connected to attachment styles, and with Judgment reversed and The King of Swords reversed, I feel like this fear clouds your judgment at times. Your attachment wounds may lead to inaccurate perceptions, making it hard to trust yourself or others.

Stop worrying about abandonment. Stop worrying about needing to run away.

I feel like this pile has a tendency to run from things rather than face them. Some of you might have Cancer, Aquarius, or Capricorn placements—signs that tend to internalize their struggles, putting up a tough outer shell to protect themselves. There’s an intense need for privacy, control, and a desire to be perceived in a certain way.

However, you're learning how to balance your relationship with yourself and your relationship with others. You’re being advised to reflect on how you show up in your connections—are you reliable? Are you present?

With the Strength card, Three of Pentacles, and Seven of Pentacles, you have a strong support system around you. You need to trust that support and allow yourself to receive it. Let people be there for you in the way you’ve always been there for others.

If you keep pushing people away out of fear, you won’t be able to fully embrace the love and security that’s trying to find you. There’s a wound in your heart—a seed of doubt that was planted a long time ago. It could stem from trauma, betrayal, or even a past life. That fear needs to be acknowledged and released.

With The Hanged Man and Ten of Cups, I feel like the universe is trying to show you how loved you truly are. But you struggle to see security and happiness as something tangible. Maybe you feel like it’s too good to be true. Maybe you’ve never fully trusted that you can have stability, peace, and success.

But look—the Ten of Pentacles and the Ace of Swords are here.

This is what’s meant for you. A stable, abundant, fulfilling life. It’s here whether you see it yet or not.

For those of you stuck in toxic or abusive environments, your way out is coming. But for many of you, you already have this stability—you just need to appreciate it.

It’s not going anywhere. You are safe. You are loved. You deserve security.

And here’s your biggest test:

Can you accept your blessings?

Can you grow mentally, emotionally, physically—whatever it takes—to maintain the life you’ve been manifesting? You’ve done the work, and now it’s time to step into it.

You’ve fought hard to get here. You are a warrior. And now, the universe is asking you to finally let yourself receive.

If you enjoyed this reading, you can message me for a personal reading. It’s $25 for a basic and $35 for an in-depth reading on this topic.

PILE II

We have The Devil (Chains), The Page of Pentacles, and The Nine of Swords reversed.

Hmm, this is interesting. It feels like you go through a lot of internal conflict. I think you’ve gone through a lot of loss, and you’ve kind of grown to distrust yourself—like you don’t trust your ability to think or navigate things. But you are actually very good at this.

I think that you bring a lot of shame and pain onto yourself. You can’t let go of your own past or fears, and it feels like you're stuck in a loop. But I’m not saying you can’t let go—you absolutely can. It’s a mindset issue.

Let’s see here, what do you need to stop worrying about? We have The Six of Wands. Some of you might feel drawn to pile one or feel connected to it. I feel like you don’t need to worry about proving yourself. You have something to show for your efforts. You are better than you think, and I think you just have to allow yourself to learn new things and understand that you won’t always immediately master something. There will be difficult moments, but you’re doing well.

I see here that maybe some of you are worried about money, a connection, or maybe even a romantic relationship. But I feel like for those of you going through difficulty in a connection, I see you coming out on the other side of this. You just need to be proactive about your healing. Sometimes, you can be your own blockage because you won’t take action the way you need to. There’s an emphasis on taking action here, tweaking your approach, and trying new things. You might be treating yourself like a one-trick pony when you’re really not.

Let’s get more clarification on the Devil. We have the Two of Pentacles. Perhaps it feels like you’ve got one foot in this new life, this new structure, and the other foot in the past. For some of you, it feels like you are going through a form of integration right now. I don’t think you need to worry about holding on to your independence or your security. You’re fine.

We have The Ten of Pentacles and the King of Pentacles. So there could be someone looking out for you or assisting you financially. This could also be family or an ancestor. There’s a lot of protection around you, and you do have someone or something looking out for you, assuring that your path to success is supported.

With The Nine of Swords Reversed, you don’t need to worry so much about these anxieties. You’re going to make it. In fact, you’re getting there very quickly. The issue is fear. You might be scared of your own success or being seen. The message here is: stop worrying so much. You’re on the right path.

There is an emphasis on doing a lot of inner work. There’s a strong need to heal and transform some of these negative self-images. Don’t be so harsh on yourself. Be more kind to yourself.

For some of you, you’re also learning how to take action in your connections, relationships, and life. This is where the difference between this pile and pile one lies. You’re learning how to really go after what you want, but there’s work to do on overcoming old fears.

If you're in a relationship or connection, I see success. I see this connection blossoming into something amazing. I also see where you and this person fight for each other. If there’s a choice or decision being made regarding you and another person, I feel like you’re the one being chosen.

For some of you, there could be a feud within friendships or a work situation, but whatever it is, know that you’re being chosen by someone or for something. There are a lot of beautiful things coming into your life, but it’s up to you to stop living in constant fear and to see beyond your old story in order to receive what you desire.

If you enjoyed this reading, you can message me for a personal reading. It’s $25 for a basic and $35 for an in-depth reading on this topic.

PILE III

This pile has 2 subsections: singles/situationships and Committed HEALTHYYYY Relationships. so pick accordingly!!

We have The Ace of Cups reversed.

Singles/Situationships

I feel like you need to stop worrying about some kind of romantic situation. You really just need to be alone for a little while. I know some of you might not want to hear this message, but I have to give it.

I see that you work really well with this person & there might even be future potential- You’ve built a lot together, but there’s constant conflict. It’s like they can’t seem to decide what they want, and you’re over here thinking about all the amazing things you could have together. But why are you trying to convince someone of your worth? Someone who won’t even take action? Who won’t even make it real?

We have the Magician here, which tells me there is potential in this connection. You bring so much to the table, but I also see the risk. This person’s indecision might hurt you in the future.

With the Chariot, I see you moving on. Some of you might already be in the process of losing feelings, while others might feel like a lover is moving on from you. And maybe that’s exactly what you’re not supposed to worry about.

Committed HEALTHY Relationships

For those in committed relationships, you might feel like your partner is being distant. But don’t let it consume you—sometimes, it’s not that serious. Some people are just busy, learning new things, or exploring the world in their own way. With the Justice card and the Queen of Swords, I see that this person wants to do right by you. You know them well, and they care for you deeply.

Someone in this pile could have a lot of anxiety about their relationship, possibly due to past experiences, trauma, or just a general tendency to worry. But if you’re in a solid, committed connection, this is a reassurance—this relationship is leading you to something peaceful.

That doesn’t mean there won’t be challenges. Every relationship has obstacles, moments of loneliness, or conflicts. For some, this could be a long-distance connection. And long distance doesn’t have to mean thousands of miles—it could be as simple as being in different cities, working different schedules, or just not having as much time together as you’d like.

Don’t let that make you insecure. Distance makes the heart grow fonder if it’s real love. This person does feel fondly about you—they miss you just as much as you miss them. Sometimes, life simply gets busy, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t committed to you.

We have The Four of Cups.

Some of you might struggle with depression or apathy. You need to stop worrying about the past and start focusing on the future. I see a lot of fear—fear of slipping back into old patterns, fear of things going wrong again, fear of losing yourself.

You might have a tendency to be pessimistic because of past experiences. But this is your reminder: Now is not the time to dwell in the past. Now is the time to build your future. To become the version of yourself that you truly want to be.

It’s important to be authentic, to nurture yourself, and to stop prioritizing others over your own well-being. The more you neglect yourself, the harder it becomes to feel secure and happy. Right now, your biggest lesson is learning how to accept happiness—learning that you are actually allowed to have it.

That’s about it for this pile.

If you enjoyed this reading, you can message me for a personal reading. It’s $25 for a basic and $35 for an in-depth reading on this topic.

[papoochu]

Okay, next on my list is Dr. Leo Anders, formerly known as Levko Andriienko. He would be a great conversationalist!

I'm going to go back and make minor changes to some of the bios that are already up (just color corrections and making sure everything is updated), so just letting y'all know!

Background

Born Levko Andriienko

Levko = means “lion,” representing strength, courage, and a fierce will to survive (ironic)

Diminutive form - implies a boyhood identity, or something emotionally vulnerable.

Andriienko = Ukrainian surname from Dnipropetrovsk region, symbolizing resilience and intellectual tradition; rooted in family and place, it connects him to the past

In Soviet context, his full name subtly marked him as "not quite Moscow"

Born 1933, in Dnipropetrovsk, Ukrainian USSR, into a modest family of engineers and educators

Showed early aptitude for physics, studied nuclear science in Moscow during the 1950s

Raised with strong faith in Soviet ideals, believed in science as a tool for progress and societal good

Chernobyl Disaster (1986):

Senior scientific advisor involved in emergency response at Chernobyl nuclear plant

Was one of the scientists who proposed the use of boron compounds to absorb neutrons and limit radioactive fallout, a key but little-known intervention

Witnessed firsthand Soviet government secrecy, misinformation, and chaos during crisis management

Worked as one of the liquidators who was not compensated properly

Exposed to high levels of radiation, suffering long-term health consequences

Deeply traumatized by the disaster and the suffering of victims, burdened by survivor’s guilt

Post-Disaster Years:

Emigrated to Graubünden, Switzerland soon after the disaster, rejecting the Soviet system and Ukrainian identity publicly

Chose Switzerland due to its priority of safety in science field as well as for its advanced healthcare

Changed his name to Leo Anders

Shedding a name with history for one that sounds clean, Western, untraceable

“Leo” is still “lion,” but now generic - a hollow echo of his true self

“Anders” is Scandinavian/Germanic - means “different” or “other”

Lived in relative isolation; worked on independent research, disconnected from official scientific communities

Physically weakened by chronic radiation sickness: fatigue, thyroid problems, neurological symptoms, lung deterioration

Haunted by memories and guilt, avoided public attention and political engagement

The Council’s Contact (1988):

Approached by the council

Initially skeptical, but accepted their offer for renewed purpose and resources

Began advising the Council on sensitive, secret projects with far-reaching ambitions

Bound by secrecy and loyalty, conflicted over his role and the Council’s shadow agenda

Life in Switzerland and Personal Struggles:

Experiences recurring nightmares and PTSD symptoms tied to Chernobyl trauma

Has obsessive behaviors and is very concerned with health/safety

Torn between hope for positive change and fear of complicity in the Council’s morally ambiguous plans

Uses work as a custodian of classified scientific and nuclear data for the Swiss government to channel his need for control and order (irony)

Present Day (2016):

Age 83, physically frail but mentally razor-sharp, a man who exerts power through knowledge and control

Custodian of classified nuclear and scientific data for the Swiss government, guarding secrets that could unravel nations - or rebuild them

"Order and method are his Gods" - Agatha Christie about Hercule Poirot

Every piece of information is meticulously cataloged and controlled to maintain a fragile balance

Obsessed with control and precision, he micromanages access to information like a vigilant, overbearing guardian - protecting the world from chaos, even if it means suffocating it

Deeply cares about the world’s survival, but his care manifests as relentless interference - an unyielding “helicopter parent” who won’t let anything deviate from his plan

Ruthlessly pragmatic, he believes the ends justify the means; innocent casualties and moral compromises are unfortunate but necessary collateral in his vision of stability

Haunted by his trauma at Chernobyl, he projects his guilt into a compulsive need to prevent further disasters through absolute order

Uses his position to manipulate political players and shadowy organizations, ensuring no secret slips, no chaos erupts

His “children” are watched closely and corrected swiftly

Lives behind layers of secrecy and detachment

Privately struggles with the suffocating burden of his responsibility and his inability to truly protect those he cares for

Design Notes/Character Study

Mirror to Victor Serdtsev

Both academics around the same age who were under the USSR but each turned out VERY different

Inverted color schemes

Take design points and swap them

Holds a handkerchief for his mild hemoptysis

Hunched

Shaky hands

Obsessive behaviors

See Poirot for reference

Very concerned with health and safety

"Helicopter parenting" - authoritative ideology comes from care, not apathy

Associations with Boron: Boron has 3 valence electrons, like the symbol on the atom

Years in isolation made him awkward in social environments

Formally dressed, but with a deeply casual, cerebral, sometimes haunted energy; rumpled, disheveled

Neutral palette

References: President Snow, David Attenborough, Richard Feynman, Noam Chomsky, Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy in Oppenheimer)

Time has not been kind - emphasize his age

Speaks Romansh

Pictured:

Reference to Gloria Ramirez tragedy: emphasizes his ideals of utilitarianism

Reference to Polonium-210 assassination: ironic given his hatred towards the Soviet Union

Assigned a brown color scheme: he is stuck in the past despite his attempts to leave it

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf, @nikipuppeteer@eliankm, @quintessences0posts, @minjianhyung @bkell2929

Part 19: To carry

Part 20: To suffer

The morning air was crisp, carrying the lingering scent of damp earth and vegetation as you crouched beside one of the large growing containers outside the outpost. The artificial sunlight panels above hummed softly, casting a warm glow over the rows of Pandoran plants that had been carefully cultivated in controlled conditions.

Kate was kneeling beside you, fingers gently brushing the bioluminescent leaves of a newly sprouted specimen, her datapad balanced on one knee. Brian stood nearby, arms crossed as he squinted at another batch of samples, muttering under his breath.

“These are growing way faster than I expected,” you mused, running a gloved hand along the delicate fronds of one plant. “We adjusted the nutrient mix last week, right?”

Kate nodded, clicking the end of her stylus against the glass of her mask. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it would have this much of an effect. Look at the root system—completely different from the control group inside.”

Brian snorted, nudging the edge of a container with his boot. “Probably because they like it out here better. I mean, who wouldn’t? Stuck inside that sterile lab or out here in fresh air, under actual sunlight.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Brian, they’re plants. They don’t have personal preferences.”

Brian shrugged. “You say that, but I’ve seen enough weird shit on Pandora to believe these things have opinions.” He gestured at a vine creeping up the side of one container. “Like that one. It was barely a sprout last week, and now it’s trying to escape.”

You snickered, tapping a few notes into your datapad. “Maybe it heard you talking and decided to make a run for it.”

Kate laughed. “Yeah, that checks out. Brian does have that effect on people.”

Brian gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. Betrayed by my own team.”

You grinned, leaning back on your heels. “If it helps, I think the plants tolerate you.”

Brian sighed. “I’ll take what I can get.”

For a while, the three of you fell into an easy rhythm—checking growth rates, documenting leaf pigmentation changes, and comparing data with previous readings. The work was familiar, grounding, a welcome distraction from the weight of everything else in your life. Until Kate casually dropped, “So. Last night was fun.”

You hummed in agreement, not looking up from your datapad. “Yeah, these samples are doing great.”

Kate snorted. “Oh, no, I wasn’t talking about the plants.”

You glanced up, catching the glint in her eye, and immediately felt a sense of impending doom. Brian crossed his arms, shaking his head with a long-suffering sigh.

“Oh, she doesn’t know,” he said, voice dripping with exaggerated tragedy. “Poor thing. Completely oblivious.”

You frowned. “Don’t know what?”

Kate placed a hand over her heart. “While you were off frolicking in the village with a certain warrior—”

Brian cut in, voice grave. “—we were fighting for our lives.”

You blinked, confused. “What?”

Kate sighed heavily, as if recounting a harrowing tale of survival. “The power grid had a massive failure. Outpost systems glitched so hard that the air filtration went down for an hour. An hour, where we had to wear exo-masks inside. Inside, like a bunch of stranded idiots in a tin can.”

Brian groaned. “Do you know how stuffy it gets in there when the ventilation cuts out even with masks? It was like slow suffocation.”

Kate clutched Brian’s arm dramatically. “We barely made it.”

Brian nodded solemnly. “Norm had to manually override half the systems to get them back online. Max looked like he was five seconds from a nervous breakdown. People were panicking.”

You stared at them, your brain slowly catching up. “Wait, seriously? The air system actually failed?”

Brian threw his hands up. “YES.”

Kate narrowed her eyes at you. “And where were you while we were suffering, hmm?”

The pieces clicked together, and warmth immediately crawled up your neck. “Oh, come on—”

“Oh, no, no,” Kate interrupted, pointing an accusing finger. “Don’t you dare try to act innocent.”

Brian scoffed. “She wasn’t just ‘in the village.’” He made air quotes, giving you a pointed look. “She was in Neteyam’s kelku. The brand new one he built with his own two hands. Probably wrapped up in some stupidly romantic nonsense while we were gasping for air like dying fish.”

Kate groaned. “God, it’s so unfair. We were in full-on survival mode, and she was—”

Brian cut in, raising his voice. “Oh, Neteyam, take me in your strong warrior arms!” He clutched his own chest in mock swoon.

Kate joined in with an exaggerated breathy voice. “Oh, ma yawntutsyìp, I’ll keep you safe in my big, muscular Na’vi embrace!”

Brian fake-gasped. “Oh, mighty warrior, you’re just so big—”

You wheezed with laughter, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck you two.”

Kate wasn’t done. “Meanwhile, we were actively perishing, and she was probably getting dicked down into the next plane of existence.”

Brian nodded sagely. “It’s true. We were barely hanging on, and she was experiencing spiritual ascension through alien dick.”

“Okay, okay! I get it.” You trying to catch your breath.

Kate smirked, raising an eyebrow. “So… you admit it?”

You gave them both an exasperated look behind your glinting exo-mask, but the smirk pulling at your lips gave you away. “I’m not denying anything.”

Brian groaned. “Unbelievable. We suffered. Suffered. And you—”

Kate gasped suddenly, grabbing Brian’s arm. “Brian, what if she was the reason the outpost almost died?”

Brian’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Of course! It all makes sense now!” He turned to you, shaking his head. “You must have broken some kind of Eywa rule. She was like, ‘oh, you wanna spend the night with the olo’eyktan’s son? Boom. Power outage. Choke on CO₂, humans.’”

Kate nodded solemnly. “It was divine punishment.”

You threw your hands up, still laughing. “Alright, that’s it. You both deserve to suffer.”

Brian placed a hand on his chest. “The betrayal. After everything we’ve been through.”

Kate wiped a fake tear as she swiped the glass of her mask. “We risked our lives, and she doesn’t even care.”

You snorted. “Norm let me stay in the village! It’s not my fault the outpost almost killed you all while I was gone!”

Brian huffed. “I’m just saying. Suspicious timing.”

Kate smirked. “Very suspicious.”

You shook your head, still grinning as you turned back to the plant samples. “You two are the worst.”

The morning sun was rising higher now, casting soft golden light over the outpost’s growing containers. The three of you had settled into a comfortable rhythm again, carefully checking the plant samples and logging observations, though the teasing hadn’t completely died down.

Brian was frowning at a particularly stubborn vine that had wrapped itself around the edge of a container, pulling at it like it had personally wronged him. “This thing’s got a death grip,” he muttered, wrestling with it. “I swear, everything on Pandora either wants to kill you or claim territory.”

Kate smirked. “Well, that’s nature for you. Survival of the fittest.”

Brian shot her a look. “Yeah? Then why is this thing trying to fight me? I’m clearly superior.”

Kate snorted. “Debatable.”

You chuckled, setting down your datapad as you inspected a leaf sample. “It’s probably reacting to environmental changes. The humidity’s been fluctuating more than usual. Maybe it’s compensating by clinging to something solid.”

Kate hummed thoughtfully. “That does sound like a logical explanation…” Then, she gave you a sly look. “Or, maybe it’s just possessive. Like a certain warrior we all know.”

You froze for a split second before sighing. “Kate.”

Brian perked up instantly. “Ohh, we’re back to that conversation, huh?” He tossed the stubborn vine aside, suddenly much more invested in what Kate had to say.

Kate grinned. “I mean, it’s only fair. She got to spend the night in the newest, most talked-about kelku in the entire village.” She elbowed you playfully. “Soooo… how is the place?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. “What?”

Brian grinned, leaning against one of the larger growing containers. “Oh, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what we’re talking about.”

Kate smirked. “Neteyam’s kelku.”

Your stomach did a little flip—whether from nerves or excitement, you weren’t sure. You should have known this was coming. Of course they were going to ask.

Kate rested her chin in her palm, watching you with amusement. “Sooo? How was it?”

You focused very hard on documenting one of the plant readings, pretending like your face wasn’t getting warmer. “It’s nice,” you said casually.

Brian scoffed. “Oh, come on. That’s it? ‘It’s nice’?” He gestured wildly. “The man spent weeks building the damn thing, and all you’ve got is ‘it’s nice’?”

Kate sighed dramatically. “Disappointing. Truly.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. “What do you want me to say?”

Kate grinned. “Uh, everything? Details, woman!”

You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. “Fine. It’s… beautiful.” Your voice softened slightly as you thought about it, the image of Neteyam’s home still fresh in your mind. “It’s in the upper levels of the trees, close enough to the village but still secluded. The main structure is woven from thick branches and vines, reinforced with thatched roofing—sturdy but open, so there’s plenty of light. And at night, the bioluminescent plants make it look like it’s glowing from the inside.”

Kate let out a dreamy sigh. “That sounds so much better than this metal shoebox we live in.”

Brian nodded. “Honestly, jealous. Dude really built himself a whole nature penthouse.”

You laughed as you started to revive the last night. “Yeah, pretty much. He even made sure there was a spot for his ikran to land nearby if he needed.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “A private ikran parking spot? Fancy.”

You exhaled, coming back to the present, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Oh and he was definitely nervous,” you admitted. “Kept watching me like he was waiting for me to say something bad.”

Brian snorted. “As if that’s even possible. What, were you gonna be like, ‘ugh, Neteyam, what an ugly handcrafted home you built with your bare hands’?”

Kate laughed. “Exactly. Like, what was he expecting? A bad Yelp review?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “I don’t know. But when I told him it was beautiful, you should’ve seen the way his ears perked up. He looked so relieved.”

Brian snickered. “Man was literally on edge waiting for approval from his tiny human girlfriend.”

Kate waggled her eyebrows. “Aww, our big strong warrior just wants your approval.”

You shrugged, feeling a fond warmth spread through your chest. “I guess.” You smiled, shifting slightly. “And, uh… he also made some adjustments to certain areas. You know… for me.”

There was a brief silence before both Kate and Brian snapped their attention to you, eyes wide with instant realization.

“Oh my God,” Kate gasped.

Brian’s mouth dropped open. “Are you saying…?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean, he made sure some of the ledges weren’t too high, added extra footholds on the climb up, and even adjusted the hammock ties so I wouldn’t have to jump to reach them.” You tilted your head. “I didn’t really notice at first, but… yeah. He definitely considered my height when building it.”

Kate let out a high-pitched sound that could only be described as pure delight. “You adorable, stupid little human.”

Brian pointed at you like he’d just cracked a major conspiracy. “He built his house with you in mind. You.”

Kate threw her hands up. “That’s, like, peak mate behavior!”

Your stomach twisted at that, though you weren’t sure if it was panic or something softer, something that made your chest feel too full. Because, really, they weren’t wrong. Na’vi didn’t build separate homes unless they were preparing for the next stage of life. Neteyam had never had his own kelku before, not even after passing his rites. He had stayed with his family, partly because of his siblings and partly because of duty. But after his argument with Jake one month ago, he had decided to step away. And in the Omatikaya’s world, that decision meant one thing:

He was ready to choose his mate.

Your throat tightened. No one in the clan knew about the two of you, save for his siblings. And yet, when he had woven his new home together, he had instinctively accounted for you. Your size. Your comfort. Like it had been second nature to him.

Kate must have caught the look on your face because she groaned loudly. “Oh no. I see that overthinking expression. I see it.”

Brian sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. “God, here we go. She’s spiraling.”

Kate mimicked your voice, making an exaggerated face of deep contemplation. “‘But what does it mean? Does he actually want to be with me? Or is this just, like, a coincidence? Does he even like me—’”

“Kate,” you hissed, smacking her arm as she burst into laughter.

Brian joined in, shaking his head as looking at Kate. “I bet she spent half the night just staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out if this was a symbolic gesture or not.”

You opened your mouth to argue—then immediately closed it because, well… they weren’t wrong.

Kate clapped her hands together. “See? I knew it!”

You sighed in defeat, rubbing a hand over your face. “Look, I know I’m overthinking it, okay? It’s just… it’s a big deal. And I don’t want to assume—”

Brian cut you off, deadpan. “Oh my god, just assume.”

Kate nodded. “Right? The man built a house. For himself, yes, but also for you. I mean, who do you think he imagined living there with him? His ikran?”

Kate grabbed Brian’s arm. “Brian, I’m going to scream.”

Brian put a hand over his heart. “I—Kate, I’m actually feeling a little emotional.”

Kate whirled on you, her eyes wide. “He customized his kelku for you.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Stop.”

Brian exhaled, shaking his head. “Damn. Imagine a guy literally restructuring his home to fit you. Couldn’t be me.”

Kate smacked his arm. “Because no one wants to live with you, Brian.”

You peeked at them through your fingers, laughing despite yourself. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Kate gasped. “Not that big of a—oh, my Eywa, this girl.” She turned to Brian. “She’s too far gone.”

Brian nodded solemnly. “Hopeless.”

Kate groaned. “He’s literally nesting for you, and you’re just sitting here like, ‘oh, no big deal, just my giant blue alien boyfriend building us a love nest in the sky.’”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

Kate squinted at you. “What else?”

You hesitated again, the warmth in your chest spreading. “He… picked the softest pelts for the bed. For me—so I wouldn’t get cold at night.”

Kate grabbed Brian’s shoulder and shook him. “I’m going feral.”

Brian rubbed his temple. “Yeah, okay, even I gotta admit—that’s some husband behavior.”

Kate pointed at you. “Girl, you are so married already.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “We aren’t married.”

Kate scoffed. “Yet.”

Brian grinned. “This man’s literally out here setting up your future home while the whole clan still thinks he’s single.”

Kate crossed her arms. “Honestly? Power move.”

You sighed, leaning back on your hands. “I knew you two would be like this.”

Kate smirked. “Oh, don’t act all exasperated—you love it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not as much as I love watching you two overreact to everything.”

Brian grinned. “Hey, it’s not overreacting when it’s true.”

Kate sighed dramatically. “Our little human is being courted and still refuses to admit how insanely cute it is.”

You shook your head, but warmth still lingered in your chest. Because, deep down, you knew they were right. Neteyam had built his kelku for himself. But, in so many ways, he had built it for you, too. Kate nudged you again, grinning. “So. When’s the housewarming party?”

Brian laughed. “Yeah, when do we get a tour?”

You snorted. “Never. You two would never leave.”

Kate gasped. “How dare you?”

Brian shook his head. “Unbelievable. We cheer you on, support your forbidden intergalactic romance, and this is the thanks we get?”

Kate crossed her arms. “See if we ever cover for you again.”

The conversation was still brimming with teasing laughter when Brian suddenly perked up, as if a thought had just struck him. “Oh! Speaking of big, important things happening—did you hear about a new Venture Star that just arrived?”

Kate’s eyes lit up. “Oh, hell yes I did.” She turned to you, practically vibrating with excitement. “We’ve got a fresh shipment in orbit, baby! New supplies, new equipment, maybe—” she wiggled her eyebrows dramatically “—some actual food that doesn’t taste like chalk.”

Brian groaned, stretching his arms behind his head. “Finally. I am so sick of those flavorless ration packs. One year of waiting for a resupply, and if I have to eat one more ‘nutrient-dense, efficiency-optimized’ protein bar, I’m gonna lose it.”

You snorted. “Oh, please. You’re acting like it’s Christmas. It’s just a supply ship.”

Kate shot him a look. “Are you kidding? It’s been six years since this shipment left Earth. That means everything on board is practically ancient history, but it’s new to us.”

You smirked, amused by their enthusiasm. The Venture Star was a marvel of human engineering—a massive interstellar vehicle that ran supply loops between Earth and Pandora, ensuring Pandora remained connected to the homeworld. The trip took six years one way, meaning that whatever had been packed on board had been sealed away for just as long. It wasn’t the first time a Venture Star had arrived since you’d been here, but it never failed to cause a stir among the humans.

Kate grinned. “I swear, if we get actual coffee this time, I might cry.”

Brian laughed. “Please, real coffee? In this economy? We’ll be lucky if we get the same freeze-dried sludge they sent last time.”

Kate groaned. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. That stuff tastes like someone ground up despair and disappointment and stuck it in a tin.”

He smirked. “Oh, and you drank it anyway.”

“Damn right I did,” Kate admitted. “Because I have no choice.”

Brian crossed his arms. “And if we’re lucky, a Valkyrie will actually land at Hell’s Gate sometime this week with our shipment.”

You snorted softly, amused at how quickly their focus had shifted. “You two are way too excited about this.”

Kate crossed her arms, looking thoughtful. “Oh! And I swear, if there’s no real chocolate in this shipment, I will riot. Also, if they actually sent new datapads, I’m replacing mine.” She held up her current one and wiggled it in emphasis. “This thing is basically being held together by sheer willpower.”

Brian snorted. “Good luck with that. If they sent any, the higher-ups probably hoarded it already.”

Kate groaned. “Ugh, corporate greed.”

Eventually, Brian turned to you, still fired up. “Okay, and you? What are you hoping for?”

You blinked, caught off guard. Truthfully, you hadn’t really thought about what you’d want. When you first arrived on Pandora, you’d clung to anything that reminded you of Earth—real coffee, small comforts that made the transition easier. But now? The idea of waiting eagerly for six-year-old supplies didn’t hold the same appeal.

Kate, of course, immediately picked up on your hesitation. Her grin turned downright wicked.

You shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

Both Kate and Brian stared at you. “…Nothing?” Brian repeated, like he had just misheard.

Kate squinted. “Not even a small request?”

You shook your head. “I mean… I can’t really think of anything I need.”

Kate gasped. “Oh, Eywa, it’s worse than I thought.”

Brian shook his head, looking at you with exaggerated disappointment. “You’ve gone native.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please.”

Kate grinned. “No, no, Brian’s right. Look at you, all humble and self-sufficient. You’re basically Na’vi now. She doesn’t have to suffer with powdered eggs and freeze-dried meat. No, no. She gets fresh yovo fruit and grilled yerik meat, probably hand-fed to her by her mighty warrior.”

Brian smirked. “Neteyam probably makes sure you don’t have to eat those god-awful ration meals.”

You snorted. “First of all, I still live at the outpost. I eat here just like I always have. It’s not like I’ve completely abandoned human food.”

Kate shrugged. “Yeah, but do you have to? Or is Neteyam just keeping you so well-fed you could live off whatever he brings you?”

You felt heat creep up your neck.

Brian’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god.” He pointed at you. “He does.”

You groaned. “I hate both of you.”

Kate smirked. “I mean, it makes sense. A Na’vi mate would never let their partner go hungry.”

Brian shook his head in mock amazement. “Woman, you are set for life.”

You shrugged, glancing up at the sky again. “I guess I’m just more interested in the people than the supplies.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “The new recruits?”

You nodded. “Right now, there are people waking up on that ship, coming out of cryo-sleep after six years. They’re getting ready to come down here, just like we did.”

That thought stuck with you—the idea that, right now, there were dozens of people groggily adjusting to consciousness, their bodies still stiff from the long journey. You had been in their shoes once, stepping out of cryo and onto a planet you had only seen through data reports and holovideo feeds. It had been overwhelming, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once.

Kate considered that for a moment. “Huh. I guess I hadn’t really thought about that.”

Brian, however, just sighed. “Well, don’t get too excited. We probably won’t even meet them.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Brian gave you a look. “Come on, you know they’re sending them to Bridgehead. We’re just a tiny science outpost in the middle of nowhere. Hell’s Gate is just a landing site now—it’s not like we have room for new people.”

You hated that he was right. Bridgehead was where the real human operations were now. A massive city, heavily fortified, brimming with RDA forces and corporate infrastructure. It was where all the major personnel transfers happened, where the actual newcomers would be processed.

Here, at the outpost? There were only twenty of you. And you were already at full capacity.

Kate made a face. “Ugh. I hate that he’s right.”

Brian smirked. “I usually am.”

Kate smacked his arm. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Still, it’s kind of surreal, isn’t it? Knowing that, right now, there are people on that ship experiencing Pandora for the first time?”

Kate nodded. “Yeah… I remember what that was like. It’s weird to think we were in cryo for six years before even getting here.”

Brian groaned. “Don’t remind me. That was the worst nap of my life.”

Kate snorted. “Same. Woke up feeling like I got hit by a space truck.”

You smiled faintly, staring up at the sky one more time. Six years of travel. Six years away from everything familiar. And now, a new batch of humans was about to step foot on this moon, just like you once had. They had no idea what was waiting for them.

The storage room was a mess of crates, inventory lists, and half-packed supplies. The air was thick with the scent of old metal and sterilized packaging as you moved between the shelves, reorganizing to make enough space for tomorrow’s delivery.

Kate and Brian were working alongside you—sort of. Kate was more focused on making sarcastic comments about the state of the supply room, while Brian had taken it upon himself to dramatically announce every box he moved, as if he were performing some heroic feat.

“And here we have the last-known ration packs of the Dark Age,” Brian declared, holding up a box labeled Emergency Protein Supplies. “Careful! If you breathe near them wrong, they might turn to dust.”

Kate snorted. “Please. Those things have more preservatives than actual food.”

You smirked, adjusting a stack of storage bins. “Yeah, and yet, you two are still excited for whatever garbage food the Venture Star brings us this week.”

Brian pointed at you. “Hey, those garbage snacks are a taste of home.”

Kate huffed as she shoved a heavy container into place. “You know, for a science outpost, we sure do a lot of heavy lifting.”

Brian grunted as he hauled another crate onto a shelf. “Welcome to Pandora. Where even the nerds have to do manual labor.”

You snorted, wiping the sweat from your brow as you double-checked the inventory list. “Come on, it’s not that bad. We’ll be done soon enough.”

Kate shot you a look. “Easy for you to say. You’ve got an extra incentive to work fast—someone is probably waiting for you in the village.”

Brian smirked. “Yeah, shouldn’t you be out there enjoying your Na’vi luxury lifestyle instead of sweating with us lowly humans?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Before they could tease you further, the sound of the airlock opening made all three of you glance up. The familiar, heavy steps of someone much taller than you echoed through the hall, and your heart skipped a beat before you even turned around.

Neteyam.

He walked toward you with that easy, confident stride of his, his golden eyes scanning the storage room before settling on you. His face softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he approached. Without hesitation, he crouched down in front of you, one knee on the floor, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

When Neteyam pulled back, golden eyes flickering with quiet affection, he gave you a small, knowing smile. “Oel ngati kameie, ma’yawne.”

The warmth of it spread through you instantly, but before you could react, he pulled back slightly and murmured, “I brought you something.”

Curious, you watched as he reached into the small satchel strapped to his side and carefully placed a few delicacies on the crate beside you—fruits, nuts and some meat, things he must have gone out of his way to gather. Before you could even form a response, Kate and Brian burst into laughter.

“Oh my Eywa,” Kate wheezed, clutching her stomach. “We called it! The prophecy has been fulfilled!”

Brian grinned. “What did I say? She doesn’t even need Earth supplies—her big blue boyfriend is out here delivering fresh jungle snacks like some kind of Na’vi Uber Eats.”

You groaned, feeling your face heat up. “Would you two shut up?”

Brian pointed at Neteyam. “Dude, you literally just proved our argument from this morning. We said she doesn’t need rations because you keep her fed, and here you are, hand-delivering gourmet meals!”

Kate wiped a fake tear. “It’s beautiful, really.”

Neteyam’s ears flicked in amusement as he glanced between them, then back at you. And then, because he was a menace, he casually said, “She does not ask for these things, but…” He tilted his head, golden eyes gleaming with mischief. “I take care of what is mine.”

Kate choked.

Brian gawked. “Wait. What?”

You turned your head so fast you nearly pulled a muscle. “Neteyam!”

He blinked at you, innocent as ever. “What?”

Kate’s jaw dropped. “Did he just—? Did you just claim her in front of us?!”

Brian looked torn between horror and awe. “I don’t even know how to process this.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “He’s joking.”

Neteyam smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Am I?”

Kate swatted your arm. “Woman. If I were you, I’d be panicking right now.”

You shot Neteyam a glare, but he only looked amused, his tail flicking happily behind him. He totally did that on purpose. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head and focused on your actual job. “Alright, you two, enough. We have work to do.”

Kate still looked like she wanted to dissect Neteyam’s statement under a microscope, but thankfully, she let it go—at least for now. Neteyam chuckled softly, clearly entertained, before nudging the bundle toward you again. “Eat,” he said simply.

And damn it, you couldn’t resist. The first bite of fruit was so sweet it nearly made you groan, and Kate’s knowing look only made the moment worse. You ignored them both, focusing instead on Neteyam, who was watching you with quiet amusement. You huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, you turned to Neteyam. “What brings you here, besides bribing me with food?”

His ears flicked slightly. “I was hoping you’d come to the village tonight.”

The question made your heart skip a beat. And oh, how badly you wanted to say yes. You hesitated, fingers still curled around a piece of fruit.

Eywa, you wanted to. The thought of returning to his kelku, curling up beside him, letting the rest of the world fade away—it was tempting in a way that made your chest ache.

But…

You sighed, shaking your head. “I can’t.”

Neteyam frowned slightly, his ears twitching. “Why?”

You gestured around the outpost. “We need to clear space before the supply drop. It’s going to be chaos this week when the Valkyrie finally lands at Hell’s Gate.”

His ears twitched, and his gaze flicked toward the stacked crates before returning to you. “You work too much.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Says the warrior who never takes a break.”

His lips quirked, but then he asked, “More humans are coming?”

You hesitated. “Probably.”

Neteyam’s expression didn’t shift, but you could feel his unease. And you understood why. More humans meant more problems. The Omatikaya were already wary of the few remaining humans allowed on Pandora. The only reason this outpost still existed was because of Jake Sully’s leadership—because he had allowed it. Beyond this, for a few hundred miles in every direction, no other human settlements remained.

This outpost was the last true sanctuary for humans anywhere near this part of Pandora. If it weren’t for Jake, they wouldn’t even be allowed to stay here. Neteyam’s tail flicked in irritation. “Father has spoken of this before. He says the Sky People do not stop coming.”

You sighed. “They don’t.”

Neteyam exhaled, clearly mulling over your words. He had grown up knowing the tension between his people and the humans, and he understood better than most how precarious that balance was. The Na’vi only human allies was this outpost with a few selected people. Before he could respond, a familiar voice chimed in from behind him. Norm.

You turned as he approached, arms crossed. “They’ll be sent to Bridgehead. That’s where the real operations are. Hell’s Gate is just a landing site now.”

Neteyam’s expression didn’t change, but you knew he wasn’t surprised. He had heard about Bridgehead from his father before. A human stronghold built near the ocean, far enough from the Omatikaya to not be an immediate issue. But even so, as the humans continued to come back to Pandora after the Great War, it was unsettling.

For a long moment, nobody spoke. You exhaled, rubbing your arms as you glanced at Neteyam. “I know,” you murmured. “I know it’s not… ideal.”

Neteyam studied you for a moment, then shook his head slightly, as if brushing the thought away. “It does not matter,” he said simply. “Bridgehead is far.”

It was true. Bridgehead was far.

But…

It was still growing.

You could see it on his face, the same thing that had gnawed at you ever since you heard about the Venture Star’s arrival.

The humans weren’t leaving. They were coming back. More than ever. And what would that mean for the Na’vi? For this outpost? For you?

You swallowed, pushing the thoughts away before they could spiral. Because the thing was, despite everything, when you were with Neteyam—when he looked at you the way he did, touched you like you belonged at his side—he never let you feel different. Never let you feel like an outsider. Even now, as his golden eyes settled on you, there was no hesitation. No doubt. Only that quiet, unshakable certainty. That you were his.

The steady hum of the outpost filled the air as you continued working, shifting crates and clearing space for the incoming supplies. Neteyam had stayed beside you, helping where he could—though helping was a generous word for what he was actually doing.

At first, it was simple. He handed you items when you needed them, moved heavier equipment with ease, and brushed his fingers against yours every chance he got. But then, he started making it difficult. Lingering touches. His large hands resting against your lower back as he leaned over you to pass your datapad. The warmth of his body as he crouched beside you to lift a crate, his tail flicking idly against your thigh.

You had tried so hard to ignore it, but Kate and Brian had definitely noticed. “I can’t watch this anymore,” Kate muttered under her breath, nudging Brian. “Come on, let’s go clear the storage bay before I start gagging.”

Brian smirked. “You’re just mad no one’s being this soft with you.”

Kate scoffed. “I’d rather die than deal with whatever this is.”

You shot them both a glare. “Goodbye.”

Kate grinned. “Have fun, lovebirds.”

And then they were gone, leaving you alone with Neteyam in the quiet hum of the outpost. You sighed, standing up and brushing dust off your hands. “You should go back to the village.”

Neteyam hummed, clearly not taking you seriously as he crouched casually next to the crate beside you. “I am fine here.”

“You have work to do.”

He tilted his head, golden eyes flicking over your face. “So do you.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I mean actual work. Na’vi things. Not hanging around here distracting me.”

He gave a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “I am distracting you?”

You leveled him with a flat look. “Obviously.”

His tail flicked behind him, his amusement only growing. “Maybe you are distracting me.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to your work. “I’m serious, Neteyam.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he took the datapad from your hands before you could protest and placed it on the crate behind you. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached out, his large hand brushing your waist as he crawled closer. You inhaled sharply, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Neteyam—this only will take a few days.”

“Alright. I will leave,” he murmured, dipping his head slightly, not quiet please by the few days fact, “but you are not making it easy.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I’m not making it easy?”

He smirked, the corner of his lips lifting in that infuriatingly charming way. “No.”

You exhaled, shaking your head fondly. “I swear...”

He only smiled, waiting. You bit your lip, considering your options. Fine. If he wanted to play this game, you would win.

Stepping forward, you tilted up onto your toes, your hands gliding up his arms—over the hard muscle of his biceps, past the strong curve of his shoulders—until they reached his neck. His breath hitched as your fingers trailed slowly along his skin, finally circling behind his head, pulling him just a little closer. His ears flicked forward, curious. You leaned in, your lips brushing just beneath one of them as you whispered, “If you leave now, I’ll stay with you in your kelku next time for a whole day.”

His entire body went still. You smirked, pressing the softest kiss just under his ear, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingertips. His tail twitched, curling slightly at the tip. For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Then, finally, he let out a slow exhale, his voice low and full of something unreadable. “You fight dirty, yawne.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, smiling innocently. “Is it working?”

He studied you, golden gaze smoldering, before he sighed—reluctant, defeated. “…Fine.”  His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Kanu hì'i vrrtep.”[Smart little demon]

You grinned but your face heated up from his words. “Good.”

He brushed his nose against yours—a soft, fleeting touch—before stepping back. “But next time,” he said, voice smooth as silk, “I am keeping you for much longer.”

You shivered, heat curling in your stomach at the way he said it. Before you could respond, he turned, heading toward the exit. But just as he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “Try not to miss me too much.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a laugh. “Get out of here, mighty warrior.”

His chuckle echoed through the hall as he disappeared, leaving you standing there, heart still racing, already counting down the hours until tomorrow night.

The late afternoon air was thick with the scent of damp earth as Neteyam adjusted the strap of his bow, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the dense Pandoran jungle. He had spent the past few hours hunting alongside the young warriors of the clan, guiding them through the thickets, teaching them patience, precision. Neteyam’s movements were swift, precise—his arrows flew true, finding their mark with practiced ease. The hunt was over quickly, their kills clean—six yeriks taken down.

As the others began the process of field dressing the animals, Neteyam wiped a small trickle of blood from a shallow cut on his arm. Nothing serious, but he knew it would need salve. He sighed, already knowing where he would need to go next before returning to his kelku.

Even as he congratulated the others, even as he carried his share of the game back to the communal storage, his mind was elsewhere.

It was foolish to let himself be so distracted. But Eywa help him—he could not stop.

The scent of burning herbs and medicinal paste filled the air as Neteyam stepped inside the Tsahik’s tent. Mo’at sat in her usual place, grinding some fresh herbs in a small clay bowl. The soft glow of bioluminescent fungi illuminated the space, casting her sharp features in a warm light.

She did not look up as he entered, but she did not need to. “You are hurt,” she said simply, her tone carrying that knowing edge that always made Neteyam feel like a child again.

“Only small wounds, grandmother,” he assured her.

Despite the gentle flickering of the flames, the space felt cool, shaded from the late afternoon heat. She didn’t look up as she spoke.

“You walk as though your mind is elsewhere, ma ‘itan.”

Neteyam hesitated mid-step. He had hoped to be in and out quickly, but of course, nothing got past his grandmother.

“I am just tired,” he said smoothly, moving closer. “Long day.”

Mo’at finally lifted her gaze, studying him as if she could see right through the words. She motioned for him to sit. “Come.”

Neteyam obeyed, kneeling before her as she reached for a clay jar, her movements slow and deliberate. She scooped out a bit of the salve with practiced fingers and began to apply it to his wound. The cool, earthy scent of the paste settled over him as she worked.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Neteyam focused on the way Mo’at’s hands moved with steady precision, her touch familiar and grounding. But then she tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“You are troubled.”

Neteyam let out a slow breath. “I am fine, grandmother.”

Mo’at made a quiet sound—half amusement, half disbelief. “I may be old, ma ‘itan, but I am not blind.” She wrapped a strip of cloth over his arm, tying it off neatly before fixing him with a look. “Your body is here, but your spirit is not. Where does your heart wander, Neteyam?”

His throat tightened. He forced himself to keep his expression calm. “Nowhere. I only think of my duties.”

“It is good that you take your duties seriously,” she said. “But you have avoided this conversation for long enough, ma’itan,” she said, her voice calm but resolute.

Neteyam stiffened slightly, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. “…What conversation?”

Mo’at gave him a look—one that told him she was not in the mood for games. “Do not play foolish with me, child. You know of what I speak.”

Neteyam exhaled slowly, already knowing where this was going. He had heard it many times before, always managing to sidestep it, to push it away with excuses. But this time, he could feel it in his bones—there would be no avoiding it.

Mo’at continued as she spread the salve over a long scrape on his shoulder. “The time has come. You are no longer a boy. You have built your own kelku.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle between them. “It is time to choose a mate.”

Neteyam clenched his jaw, his hands instinctively curling into fists against his thighs. He lowered his gaze, focusing on the woven mat beneath them rather than the knowing look in her eyes.

"I am still learning," he had said when he was sixteen. "I must focus on my duties," he had said at eighteen. "I will know when the time is right," he had said at twenty.

“I am not ready,” he murmured, the excuse feeling weaker than it ever had before.

Mo’at clicked her tongue, her fingers stilling against his skin. “Neteyam.” Her voice softened, but there was no mistaking the authority in it. “You have been saying this for years.”

Because it was easier to say he was not ready. Easier to pretend that his path was still unclear. That his heart had not already found its home in the arms of someone the clan would never accept.

Mo’at continued, dipping her fingers back into the salve and continue to apply the ointment on his other small injury. “The elders have chosen a few fine young women—strong, skilled, and wise. Any of them would make a good Tsahik to stand at your side. Any one of them would make a fine mate for you.”

Neteyam swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He knew this was coming, had always known. Ever since he completed his Uniltaron at fourteen, the women of the clan had waited, watching, hoping. Over the years, many had tried to get close to him, to make themselves worthy of his attention. Some had been gentle in their affections, others more persistent. But he had never chosen. Never wanted to.

Back then, he had resisted simply because he did not want to choose. He had never felt the pull toward any of the women around him, despite their attempts to get close. And over the years, as his father, his mother, even the elders had tried to push him toward a match, he had always refused.

Not then. And now… now, his heart was no longer his own to give.

Mo’at pressed the last bit of salve to his skin, but her gaze was no longer on his arm. She was watching him now, her sharp golden eyes studying his face, searching deeper than he was comfortable with.

“You hesitate,” she noted.

Neteyam exhaled slowly. “I have not yet decided.”

Mo’at’s lips pursed slightly. “Strange. A warrior who is ready to lead, yet cannot make a choice.”

He had no answer to that.

She watched him for a long moment, and then, something shifted in her expression. Her gaze softened, just slightly, her keen eyes seeing something even he had not realized was visible.

“You remind me of your mother,” she murmured.

Neteyam blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Mo’at sat back, folding her hands in her lap. “Neytiri was meant to be Tsu’tey’s mate,” she said, voice calm, measured. “It was decided by the elders after your aunt’s passing. He was to be Olo’eyktan, and she, Tsahik. It was the future the clan saw for her.” She tilted her head. “But her heart did not belong to him.”

Neteyam swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry.

Mo’at nodded. “She chose a man who was not of her people. A dream-walker. A man who, at the time, was not even truly Na’vi.” Her gaze did not waver from his. “And despite all expectations, despite all tradition, she chose him anyway.”

The air between them was thick now, charged with something unspoken. Neteyam looked away. “That was different.”

“Was it?” Mo’at’s voice was patient, but there was a knowing edge to it. “She followed her heart, even when it was difficult. Even when others did not approve. And now, you sit before me, looking very much like your mother once did when she, too, was being told to choose.”

Neteyam’s jaw tightened. He knew that she was beginning to see the truth—one he had tried to keep hidden. Neteyam forced himself to breathe evenly, but his mind was racing. Did she know? Could she see it in him?

Mo’at wiped her hands clean, tilting her head slightly. “You are your mother’s son, Neteyam. I see it in you.” She studied him, eyes sharp with quiet understanding. “Your heart is not hesitant because you do not want to choose.” She reached forward then, placing a gentle but firm hand over his chest, right where his heart pounded against his ribs. “It is hesitant because it already has.”

His breath caught.

Mo’at exhaled softly, nodding to herself as if she had just confirmed something. “I see now.”

Neteyam’s throat tightened. “See what?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Your heart belongs to someone already.”

He felt his entire body go still. His mouth opened, but no words came.

Mo’at merely raised a knowing brow. “And yet, I do not see you walking among the young women chosen for you. I do not see you speaking of them, or seeking their company.” Her gaze softened, just slightly. “No. Your heart is not here.”

Neteyam swallowed hard. His pulse was a steady drumbeat against his ribs, his hands curling slightly against his thighs.

Mo’at reached out, her aged fingers briefly brushing against his cheek in a rare moment of tenderness. “Tell me, ma ‘itan. Who is she?”

His lips parted, but no words came out. Because what could he say? How could he admit it? That the one who had claimed his heart was not Na’vi, not one of the women the elders had chosen for him, but a small, stubborn, brilliant creature of the sky?

Neteyam inhaled sharply, his mind a whirlwind. For so long, he had kept this hidden, had carefully shielded it from everyone but his siblings. But now, sitting here under the weight of Mo’at’s gaze, he knew there was no use in lying.

She already knew.

But before he could say anything—before he could even begin to form the words—Mo’at chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Ah,” she murmured, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “You need not say it. I already know. It is not the way of our People to give their hearts lightly. The Great Mother chooses for us.” She tilted her head. “You have always been an obedient son,” she mused, her voice thoughtful. “Always followed the path set before you.” She paused, then added, “But the heart… does not always listen to duty, does it?”

Mo’at’s smile was small but understanding. “You have your mother’s heart,” she whispered. “Stubborn, loyal… and foolishly in love with a human.”

Neteyam’s stomach twisted in anticipation of judgment, of reprimand. But none came.

Instead, Mo’at simply sighed, her eyes distant, as if remembering something from long ago. “Fate has a strange way of repeating itself.”

His throat tightened. He had feared this moment for so long. He had imagined the disappointment, the anger, the judgment.

But it did not come.

Instead, Mo’at’s gaze softened, a knowing warmth in her expression. “It is a heavy thing, to love beyond what is expected. But I have seen this before.”

Neteyam swallowed hard. “And you do not judge me?”

Mo’at let out a quiet breath, shaking her head. “What is there to judge? Love is not something to be chosen from a list. It is not something that can be forced.” Her hand, still resting over his chest, pressed gently. “If your heart has chosen, then it is not my place to tell it otherwise.”

Neteyam exhaled shakily, a weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying suddenly lifting from his shoulders. “I…”

Mo’at pulled back, her sharp gaze returning. “But you must be sure,” she warned. “A choice like this is not without difficulty. You know this.”

Neteyam nodded slowly. “I do.”

She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “Then I will not ask again.” A small smirk tugged at her lips. “But do not think the others will stop.”

Neteyam huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I would expect nothing less.”

Mo’at chuckled softly. Then, with a final pat to his arm, she rose to her feet. “Go, ma ‘itan.” Her eyes twinkled with something unreadable. “You have much to think about.”

Neteyam stepped out of the Tsahik’s tent, the warm afternoon air wrapping around him as he inhaled deeply. The weight that had been pressing against his chest all morning had lightened, replaced with something unfamiliar yet welcome. Relief.

For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like he was hiding. Mo’at knew—really knew—and she had not scolded him, had not judged him. Instead, she had simply understood.

It was more than he had dared to hope for.

He had barely taken a few steps toward the village before he spotted Lo’ak leaning lazily against a thick tree root nearby, arms crossed, his ever-present smirk firmly in place. Neteyam knew that look.

It meant trouble.

Lo’ak pushed off the root, strolling toward him with an easy swagger. “Damn, bro,” he drawled. “That was a long talk with Grandmother. Thought she was gonna keep you in there all night.”

Neteyam rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the small smirk tugging at his lips. “She had… a lot to say.”

Lo’ak’s sharp golden eyes flickered over him, his smirk widening. “Yeah, no shit. You looked like you were carrying the weight of the whole clan when you went in there. But now?” He tilted his head, inspecting him. “You seem… different.”

Neteyam’s ears twitched. “Different?”

Lo’ak’s grin turned positively wicked. “Yeah. Like a guy who finally woke up with his woman next to him.”

Neteyam stiffened for half a second before schooling his expression. “Lo’ak—”

“Oh, don’t even try it,” Lo’ak cut in, waving a hand. “I know she was with you last night.”

Neteyam exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Keep your voice down.”

Lo’ak snorted. “Relax, bro. No one else is listening.” He grinned, nudging Neteyam’s arm. “But c’mon, you gotta admit, this is huge. First night in your own kelku, and you actually let yourself have what you want for once.” He let out a low whistle. “Bet that felt good.”

Neteyam sighed, shaking his head. “It did,” he admitted, quieter now. His voice softened, a small, unguarded smile playing at his lips. “I… I like having her there. Waking up and knowing she’s next to me.”

Lo’ak groaned dramatically. “Ew, bro, keep it in your head, I don’t need details.”

Neteyam huffed out a laugh, shoving his brother lightly. “Shut up, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak smirked but then took a step back, his teasing expression shifting into something a little more serious. “Listen, I’m happy for you. Really, I am.” His tail flicked, ears twitching slightly. “But… you do realize you’re not exactly subtle, right?”

Neteyam tensed. “What do you mean?”

Lo’ak raised an eyebrow. “I mean, if I can tell just by looking at you, then Grandmother sure as hell picked up on it, too.”

Neteyam’s stomach twisted. He had barely said anything to Mo’at, and yet, she had known. Had Lo’ak really seen it that easily, too?

Lo’ak crossed his arms. “I don’t think she’ll say anything to Mom and Dad… but if you don’t want an argument with them, you should be more careful.”

Neteyam’s jaw clenched. He knew Lo’ak was right. He knew that if their parents found out, it wouldn’t be as simple as it had been with Mo’at. Jake, especially, would have a lot to say.

But…

His mind drifted back to last night—to the way she had looked in the soft glow of the bioluminescent plants that lit his kelku. The way she had curled up beside him, her warmth seeping into him as she slept. The peaceful rise and fall of her breathing, the delicate weight of her resting against him.

How could something that felt so right be so wrong in the clan’s eyes?

Neteyam shook his head. “I don’t want to hide, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak’s expression flickered with something unreadable. “I get that,” he admitted. “But you know how they are.”

Neteyam exhaled heavily. “I do.” His gaze flicked up to meet Lo’ak’s. “But I also know that I want this.”

Lo’ak sighed, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, no kidding. You’ve wanted this for ages.”

Neteyam smirked. “And now I have it.”

Lo’ak grinned, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Just… don’t get caught yet, bro. ‘Cause if it were me sneaking around with a human girl, I’d already be getting the lecture of a lifetime.”

Neteyam snorted. “That’s because you make terrible choices.”

Lo’ak gasped dramatically. “Wow. Betrayed by my own brother.”

Neteyam chuckled, shaking his head as he started walking toward the village paths. Lo’ak fell into step beside him, still grinning.

As they walked, Lo’ak glanced at him sideways. “So… you really like waking up with her, huh?”

Neteyam’s ears flicked. His lips curled slightly, gaze distant but warm. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I do.”

Lo’ak rolled his eyes, but his smirk never wavered. “Damn. You’ve got it bad, bro.”

Neteyam didn’t even deny it.

The steady thrum of the SA-2 Samson’s rotors vibrated through your seat as you peered out the open side door, the thick Pandoran air rushing past you in a humid blur. Below, the jungle stretched endlessly, the deep green canopy occasionally broken by winding rivers and towering rock formations. But up ahead, the dense wilderness gave way to something different—something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Hell’s Gate.

Or what was left of it.

As the Samson approached, you leaned forward, eyes widening as the ruins of the old RDA compound came into view. Once a sprawling fortress of metal and concrete, the years of neglect had turned it into something else entirely. Rust and vegetation fought for dominance, creeping vines twisting around steel beams, shattered windows glinting in the midday sun. The towering security fences that once stood impenetrable were now collapsed in places, swallowed by the relentless jungle.

But for the first time in years, it looked alive.

Your Samson swooped in low, circling the outskirts of the landing zone before finally descending toward an old clearing, the last functioning helipad still intact.

You barely felt the impact as the landing skids met the ground. As soon as the side doors slid open, you stepped out onto the platform, the rush of fresh air carrying the distinct scent of damp earth and old metal even through the filtration system of your mask.

The scene before you was almost surreal—dozens of people moving in hurried yet precise motions, some in exo-masks, others already adjusted to Pandora’s atmosphere. Avatar drivers hauled heavy crates with ease, towering over the human workers who worked in sync beside them.

Norm was already there, standing near a group of Avatar pilots who were manually sorting cargo. He looked up as you and your team approached, lifting his datapad with a nod.

“Finally,” he called, glancing at the crates still being unloaded. “We need all hands on deck if we want to get this inventory logged before nightfall.”

Kate snorted beside you. “Yeah, yeah, Norm, we’re here. Keep your socks on. Blame our ancient Samson,” Kate quipped, shouldering her bag. “I think it lost a few screws on the way here.”

Norm snorted. “I’ll put in a maintenance request. Maybe we’ll get it fixed in, oh… never.”

You chuckled, then glanced at the towering stacks of crates being unloaded from the Valkyrie. “How much are we looking at?”

Norm rubbed the back of his neck. “A lot. More than we expected.” He handed you a datapad loaded with inventory logs. “We’ve got rations, medical supplies, field equipment… looks like they even threw in some updated research terminals.”

Kate let out a low whistle as she skimmed her own datapad. “Shit. This is actually good stuff.”

“Yeah,” Norm said, then grinned. “And before you ask—yes, there’s coffee.”

Kate gasped, looking up at the sky. “Eywa bless.”

You know Brian, who had stayed back at the outpost, was going to be so mad he missed this.

The group quickly split up, working alongside the others to catalog the shipment. The Valkyrie’s cargo bay was a maze of metal crates, each marked with serial codes that had to be logged before transport. You moved between them, checking your datapad as you double-checked the manifests.

Not far away, a few Avatar drivers were hauling heavier supplies to the storage area, their movements fluid and efficient. One of them—James, a former RDA scientist who had defected—grinned as he carried two massive crates like they weighed nothing.

“Need a hand, shorty?” he teased, nodding at the much smaller box you were lifting.

You rolled your eyes. “You offering, or just showing off?”

“A little of both.” He smirked, easily placing his crates down before taking yours and stacking it on top. “There. Now you won’t throw your back out.”

“Appreciate it,” you said dryly, making a note on your datapad.

Norm rolled his eyes but smirked as he waved you over. “Yeah, yeah. Come on. We’ve got a ton of stuff to go through, and the last thing we need is for this crap to get mixed up with Bridgehead’s shipment.”

You jogged to his side, eyes flicking to the mountain of supplies being sorted. “Damn,” you muttered. “Did we really order this much?”

Norm handed you another datapad. “Six years’ worth of backlog finally catching up with us. We’re getting stuff that was meant to be here ages ago.”

Kate whistled as she skimmed her own list. “That explains why half this shit looks like it was packed by someone who thought we still had the old lab running.”

You flicked through your datapad, quickly calculating the loads. “Okay, we’ll need to prioritize the perishables first. Anything with medical supplies gets packed separately—Max is going to want a full inventory on that.”

“Got it,” Kate said, already typing.

A sharp whistle cut through the air as one of the Avatar drivers—Liam, you thought—waved from a hover cart. “We’re loading the heavier crates onto the western platform. Give me a list of what needs to go first.”

You nodded and tapped quickly on your screen. “Sending it now.”

The next hour passed in a blur of movement—checking manifests, hauling supplies, redirecting mispacked items that were supposed to go to Bridgehead instead. The noise of machinery and voices blended together, the work fast-paced but efficient.

Norm handed you a datapad. “Start checking crate IDs and matching them with the manifest. We’ve got to separate what’s going back to the outpost from what’s staying here.”

Kate took one look at the endless list on her own datapad and groaned. “God, why did I come here?”

You smirked. “Because you wanted to see if there was chocolate.”

Kate pointed at you. “And if there isn’t, I’m burning this place down.”

Shaking your head, you scanned the first set of crates. The work wasn’t hard, just tedious—checking serial numbers, cross-referencing supply lists, making sure nothing was missing. As you moved through the organized chaos, you couldn’t help but marvel at how much life had returned to this place.

Later the storage bay was a war zone.

Stacks of crates towered like haphazard city blocks, lining the walls and filling every available inch of floor space. The entire outpost was a hive of movement—scientists, technicians, and Avatar drivers —now without their Avatars— hauling supplies back and forth, checking lists, arguing over mislabeled shipments, and generally cursing the logistical nightmare that was the latest supply drop.

You sat cross-legged in the middle of the chaos, back hunched over a datapad as you furiously logged inventory. The harsh glow of the overhead lights reflected off the screen, numbers blurring together as you tried to make sense of the mess.

Kate flopped onto a nearby crate with a dramatic groan, swiping her sleeve over her sweaty forehead. “I swear to Eywa, if I have to log one more serial number, I’m going to throw myself into the sterilization unit.”

Brian, hunched over a different stack of boxes, let out a dry laugh. “Make sure you put that in the inventory log before you go.” He tapped his screen. “One human researcher, fully incinerated. No refunds.”

Kate groaned, tilting her head back. “We’ve been at this for three days. Three days.”

You sighed, flicking through the latest shipment manifest. “Yeah, and we’re still not done. There’s at least a dozen more crates in the eastern bay that haven’t even been opened yet.”

Brian dropped his datapad onto his lap. “Whose brilliant idea was it to send this much crap all at once?”

“Blame Earth,” Kate muttered. “Apparently, six years of backlog means we get everything dumped on us at once.” She sat up, rubbing her temples. “And you know what the worst part is?”

Brian gave her a flat look. “Please, enlighten me.”

Kate pointed at the crate beside her. “This entire box? Expired protein bars.”

You winced. “Seriously?”

“Yep.” She patted the crate like it was an old friend. “Some poor soul packed these six years ago thinking they’d be useful. Now they’re basically astronaut-flavored cardboard.”

Brian snorted. “Honestly, that describes half of our rations anyway.”

Kate leaned forward, smirking. “And don’t even get me started on the medical supplies. We found a crate of syringes that expired before we even left Earth.”

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. “That’s just great. Max is going to love that.”

Brian clicked his tongue. “Yeah, we should probably tell him before he tries using one and gives someone a eight-year-old infection.”

Kate sighed, flopping back again. “At this point, we might as well just let the Na’vi take over. They have better medicine anyway.”

You exhaled sharply, your fingers tightening around your datapad. The mention of the Na’vi sent your thoughts spiraling back to something—someone—who had been on your mind for days now.

Three days.

Three days since Neteyam last visited.

He had never gone this long without stopping by—not since you’d started spending more time together. He was always there, whether it was dropping by with fresh food, teasing you in that quiet, knowing way of his, or just sitting with you in comfortable silence. Even when he was busy, even when his duties kept him occupied, he always managed to find time.

But now? Nothing. No visits, no messages relayed through Norm or Max. Just… silence.

You tried not to let it get to you. You tried. But you were failing. Kate nudged you suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Uh-oh. I know that look.”

You blinked. “What look?”

Kate waggled her eyebrows. “That look that says, ‘Where is my tall, blue boyfriend? Why hasn’t he visited me? Does he not love me anymore?’”

Brian smirked, leaning against a crate. “Damn. She went straight for the throat.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. “I’m just wondering why he hasn’t been around, that’s all.”

Kate gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Oh my Eywa, you miss him.”

Brian clicked his tongue. “Tragic. The great warrior has abandoned his tiny human.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “I hate both of you.”

Kate grinned. “No, you don’t. Now, be honest. Have you been staring at the sky every night through the windows like some lovesick idiot, waiting for him to swoop in on his ikran?”

Brian cupped his hands around his mouth, mimicking a desperate call. “Oh mighty Neteyam, please return to me! My heart cannot bear the distance!”

You threw a rag at his head. “Shut up.”

Brian dodged it, laughing. “Come on, admit it. You’re on edge because he’s been gone for three days.”

You exhaled through your nose, turning your attention back to your datapad. “I’m not on edge.”

Kate snorted. “Oh yeah? Then why did you just re-log that same crate three times?”

You glanced down at your screen. Shit.

Kate cackled. “Busted.”

You groaned, setting your datapad down and rubbing your face. “Fine. Maybe I am a little restless.”

Brian smirked. “A little?”

You shot him a glare.

Kate leaned closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You know, if you really wanted to see him, you could just hop on the Samson and make a quick trip to the village.”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah, let me just abandon my post and fly straight into the arms of the Olo’eyktan’s son. That won’t cause any issues at all.”

Brian snickered. “Honestly? I’d pay good money to see that.”

Kate sighed dramatically. “Tragic. Separated by duty.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “How will she ever survive?”

You groaned again, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Still, you couldn’t shake the growing knot in your stomach. Because the truth was, you did miss him. And you were on edge.

Not just because you hadn’t seen him, but because there was no way to find out what was going on. You were stuck here, buried in supply crates and datapads, unable to sneak away even if you wanted to. So you waited. And you hated it.

Kate must have sensed the shift in your mood, because she nudged your foot lightly. “Hey,” she said, her voice a little softer. “I’m sure he’s fine. Probably just busy with clan stuff. You know how it is.”

You nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yeah. I know.”

Brian stretched, cracking his back. “Besides, if something was wrong, Lo’ak or Kiri would’ve sent word by now.”

That was true. If something had happened, you would’ve heard about it. But that didn’t stop the nagging feeling in your gut. Kate smirked, back to her usual self. “So, until your warrior comes to sweep you off your feet, I suggest you distract yourself with more back-breaking labor.”

Brian groaned. “Ugh. Do we have to?”

You smirked, grabbing your datapad. “Yes, we do.”

Kate sighed, hopping off the crate. “Fine. But if Neteyam does show up, I’m taking full credit.”

Brian grinned. “And I’m charging him for emotional damages.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you got back to work. Still, as you scanned the next crate, you found yourself glancing toward the small window.

Waiting.

The fourth night was the hardest.

You lay on your cot, staring at the ceiling of your cramped quarters, listening to the steady hum of the outpost’s ventilation system. The small room was dimly lit by the faint blue glow of your datapad, which lay abandoned on your stomach, the screen dark. You had tried to focus on some research notes, something—anything—to keep your mind busy, but it was useless.

Your thoughts had drifted again.

To him.

To golden eyes that watched you like you were the only thing in the world. To the way his ears twitched whenever you teased him, how his tail flicked when he was amused. To the quiet strength in his voice, the warmth in his touch.

It had been four days. Four whole days since you had last seen Neteyam. Since you had last felt his presence, his steady, grounding warmth.

It wasn’t that long, really. You had spent longer apart before. Before you were a thing. Sometimes he was out on long hunting trips, or busy with the clan, or helping his father patrol the surrounding forests. You had spent entire weeks apart when you first came to the outpost, when your presence in the village was still something new, still uncertain.

But it was different now.

Because for months now—almost every day—he had found you.

Even when his schedule was tight, even when the village kept him busy, even when you were stuck here, drowning in work, he had always found time to come to you. Even if it was just for a few stolen moments, a brief visit, a lingering touch before he had to go again.

And now?

Nothing.

You inhaled sharply, shifting onto your side, gripping the edge of your blanket as frustration curled hot and tight in your chest. You hated how much you missed him. Hated how restless you felt. What the hell is wrong with me?

You scoffed, running a hand over your face. A few days ago, you were the one shooing him away, telling him he was a distraction. And now? Now you were lying here like some lovesick idiot, staring at the ceiling, waiting—hoping—that he would walk through the airlock doors and find you.

But he hadn’t. And what if he didn’t want to?

The thought sent a sharp, unwelcome pang through your chest. No, that’s ridiculous. Neteyam wouldn’t just ignore you. Right?

He was probably just busy. His responsibilities were endless—hunting, patrolling, training the younger warriors, helping his father maintain order in the village. You had always known that. You had always respected that.

But… what if there was another reason?

What if he had chosen not to come?

The thought lingered, sinking its claws into your brain, no matter how much you tried to push it away.

You exhaled, rolling onto your back again, staring at the tiny cracks in the metal ceiling panels.

Ache coiled tight in your chest, heavy and suffocating.

You missed him.

You missed him so much it made you angry.

This was his fault. He had made you need him. He had spoiled you, coming to you whenever he could, making himself a constant presence in your life. And now, after four days of silence, you felt like something was missing.

You groaned into your pillow, hating yourself just a little bit. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But it did. And you didn’t know what to do about it.

The morning started like the ones before it—filled with work.

The outpost was still buzzing from the chaos of the supply shipment. The last of the crates were being moved into storage, equipment was being set up, and everyone was running on whatever caffeine substitute they could get their hands on.

You were running on nothing.

You hadn't slept well, mind tangled in frustration and thoughts of him. The weight of it sat heavily on your shoulders as you worked alongside Kate, sorting through the new field kits. The two of you were in the middle of debating whether one particular box had been mislabeled when a familiar voice rang through the outpost’s main hall.

“Norm! Max!”

Your hands froze.

Kate perked up. “Was that—?”

Before she could finish, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the metal corridors. A second later, Kiri burst into the outpost, her braid swinging over her shoulder, a wide grin lighting up her face.

Norm and Max were already rushing toward her, their expressions shifting from surprise to pure joy.

“Kiri!” Norm beamed. “Eywa, look at you! You’ve been avoiding us, huh?”

Max grinned, stepping forward. “Two months. You disappeared on us, kid.”

Kiri laughed, looking down enough to give them both an exasperated look. “Oh, come on, it hasn’t been that long.”

“It has,” Max deadpanned. “We were starting to think you forgot about us.”

Norm chuckled. “It’s good to see you, kid.”

Kate nudged you playfully. “Well, look at that. The jungle princess returns.”

You should have laughed. Should have stepped forward and greeted her. But you couldn’t move. Because you were frozen—your breath caught in your throat, heart thudding in your chest. Kiri was here. And suddenly, all you could hear was Brian’s voice in your head from days ago: "Lo’ak or Kiri would tell us if something happened to Neteyam."

Your stomach dropped.

No.

Your hands went clammy.

No, no, no, no.

Your heart started pounding, a horrible, suffocating weight pressing against your ribs. Kiri was here for you.

Not just stopping by, not just visiting the outpost. She had come for you specifically.

Your fingers clenched into fists. You barely registered Kate pulling you forward, her voice light and teasing as she called out, “Alright, don’t just hog her for yourselves! Let us say hi too!”

You followed, but your feet felt like lead. As you stepped closer, Kiri’s sharp eyes flicked toward you—her smile faltering slightly the moment she got a good look at your face.

And then—

Flick!

A sharp tap against your forehead snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You blinked, eyes refocusing just in time to see Kiri grinning at you, arm still raised from where she had flicked you.

“Breathe,” she said simply.

You stared at her.

Kiri smirked, tilting her head. “I’m here for you.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Kiri let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, Eywa. You really thought something happened to him?”

Your throat was so tight it hurt.

“…Didn’t it?” you croaked.

Kiri blinked at you, then let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, Eywa, no! He’s fine!”

You didn’t believe her. You couldn’t believe her. Because if he was fine, then where the hell had he been for the last four days? Kiri must have seen the doubt on your face, because she shook her head with an amused huff before crossing her arms. “My brother is insufferable.”

That caught you off guard. “…What?”

Kiri smirked. “That’s why I’m here.” She shot you a pointed look. “We figured it out—he needs to see you.”

Your brain struggled to keep up. “What does that even mean?”

Kiri rolled her eyes. “It means he’s been moping for days. Walking around like a storm cloud. Snapping at people. Being dramatic.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. “…What?”

Kate snickered beside you.

Kiri turned fully to you, hands on her hips, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “My dear, hopeless brother has been miserable.”

You stared.

Kiri grinned. “It took all of us about two days to figure it out.” She crossed her arms. “It’s you. You’re the problem.”

You blinked. “I—excuse me?”

Kate snorted, barely holding back her laughter.

Kiri rolled her eyes. “Not in a bad way. I mean, you are the reason he’s like this.”

Your heart stuttered. “But… but I thought—”

Kiri waved a hand. “He’s been gone because my father dumped a ridiculous amount of duties on him. Patrolling, escorting, hunting—basically keeping the warriors busy after the Valkyrie landed, just to make sure that every humans left the forest.” She huffed. “He’s been running around nonstop, keeping the borders secure, making sure none of the new Sky People wandered anywhere they shouldn’t.”

You inhaled sharply.

Oh. That made… sense. More sense than the ridiculous idea you’d convinced yourself of—that Neteyam hadn’t wanted to see you.

Kate was grinning. “So what I’m hearing is… he’s been sulking because he hasn’t seen her?”

Kiri smirked. “Bingo.”

You were still processing. Still trying to make sense of it. Kiri rolled her eyes and flicked your forehead again. “Ow—!”

“Stop overthinking!” she scolded, looking way too entertained. “He’s been suffering, and you’ve been suffering, and honestly, I’m sick of it.”

Kate snorted. “Wow. True sibling energy.”

You barely heard them. Because Eywa, the past four days had been hell, and the entire time, you had thought— You had thought he didn’t care. But he did. And now?

Now, you needed to see him.

The journey to the village was a blur of rushing air and Kiri’s constant, relentless teasing.

She had barely given you a moment to react after her “I’m sick of it” declaration before practically hauling you onto her ikran. There had been no time to argue, no time to second-guess. You had barely managed to settle yourself before her, because Kiri immediately took off, the jungle whipping past in a blur of green and gold.

“You better appreciate this,” Kiri had shouted over the wind. “I don’t just escort humans for free, you know.”

You had rolled your eyes but held onto the tiny saddle’s edge anyway, heart pounding—not from the flight, but from the knowledge that you were finally heading back. Back to the village. Back to him.

By the time you landed, the sun was high, casting dappled patterns through the thick canopy. The village bustled with midday activity—hunters returning with the morning’s catch, children darting between woven huts, voices rising and falling in easy conversation. It smelled like roasting meat, woodsmoke, and the faint, fresh scent of the flowering vines that clung to the high tree trunks.

And the second your feet hit the ground, something inside you settled. The tension you hadn’t even realized you’d been carrying for the past five days melted as you inhaled deeply, filling your lungs with the humid air of the Omatikaya’s home.

Kiri must have noticed, because she smirked. “Huh. You already look better.”

You huffed. “Shut up.”

Kiri just snickered and grabbed your wrist, pulling you along. “Come on. Neteyam’s not back yet, which means you stick with me. I don’t need people getting the wrong idea.”

You frowned, glancing at her. “The wrong idea about what?”

Kiri shot you a pointed look. “About why you’re here.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, heat creeping up your neck. “I—I’m here to visit. To see everyone.”

Kiri’s smirk deepened. “Sure, sure.” She gave you a slow once-over, her tail flicking in amusement. “You know, if I were a random villager, I’d probably think you were some love-drunk human girl flying in for her Na’vi warrior boyfriend.”

Your face burned. “Kiri!”

“What?” she laughed, her sharp golden eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m just saying. You’re kinda radiating desperation right now.”

You gasped, scandalized. “I am not!”

Kiri cackled, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “Oh, you so are.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Eywa, why am I friends with you?”

“Because I’m great.” She grinned, giving your arm a tug. “Now, let’s go see Grandmother. She’s been experimenting with new salves, and I wanna show you the ones I made.”

You let yourself be dragged through the village, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.

The scent of burning herbs and dried flowers greeted you as you stepped into Mo’at’s tent. The cool shade inside was a welcome contrast to the heat outside, the air thick with the rich aroma of medicinal pastes and freshly ground plants.

Mo’at sat near the center, a bowl resting in her lap, her sharp eyes flicking up as Kiri led you in. “You return,” Mo’at mused, voice steady as she ground a handful of dried roots into a fine powder.

You dipped your head in greeting. “Oel ngati kameie, Tsahik.”

Mo’at made a small sound of acknowledgment but said nothing more, her gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary before returning to her work.

Kiri, oblivious to her grandmother’s quiet scrutiny, flopped down beside her and pulled a bundle from her satchel. “I made new salves,” she announced proudly, unwrapping the cloth to reveal several small jars of smooth, dark-colored paste. “I tested them on Lo’ak, and he didn’t die, so that’s a good sign.”

You snorted. “That’s your quality check?”

Kiri grinned. “Obviously.”

Mo’at hummed, setting aside her own mixture as she took one of Kiri’s jars. She removed the lid, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. “Mm.” Her sharp eyes flicked to Kiri. “What did you use?”

Kiri straightened, tail curling slightly in anticipation. “Crushed yutrel leaves mixed with tsah bark and a little bit of kali’weya poison. I wanted something stronger for deep wounds, something that would speed up clotting without causing irritation.”

You listened intently, stepping closer. “That’s smart,” you murmured, already thinking through the ingredients in your head. “But won’t the tsah bark make it too astringent? That stuff stings like hell on open wounds.”

Kiri’s ears perked. “Yeah, it would, normally. That’s why I balanced it with yutrel—it neutralizes the sting without messing with the clotting effect.”

You let out a thoughtful hum, intrigued. “Huh. I never thought of that.”

Mo’at watched the exchange in silence, her fingers still idly swirling the paste inside the jar.

You hardly noticed. You were already reaching for another one of Kiri’s jars, your curiosity getting the better of you. “And this one? It smells different.”

Kiri grinned. “That one’s for burns. I used a yovo fruit base to keep it hydrating, but I infused it with dried hìrumwll petals to speed up healing.”

You leaned in, fascinated. “Hìrumwll? Isn’t that could be toxic if used raw?”

Kiri nodded. “Yup. But once it’s dried and ground, it’s perfectly safe. It’s actually got insane healing properties—I tested it on my own arm after I burned myself on hot coals.”

You gasped. “When did you do that?”

“Last week.” Kiri shrugged. “I barely have a scar now, though, so I’m calling it a win.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are so reckless.”

Kiri grinned. “And yet, I’m still here.”

Mo’at let out a soft hmm of amusement but said nothing, her gaze flicking between the two of you as you continued your discussion.

Her aged golden eyes followed the way you moved, the way your fingers traced over different herbs with familiarity. The way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way your lips moved as you and Kiri debated the differences in Pandoran medicinal properties versus human antiseptics.

Mo’at had met you many times before. Had seen you in this tent on multiple occasions.

But today… Today, she saw you differently. She saw what Neteyam saw.

A human girl, small and fragile by Na’vi standards, but with a mind that absorbed knowledge like a sponge. A girl who had no true place among them—yet had spent years trying to carve one out for herself anyway.

She had always tolerated your presence, had even respected your curiosity. But after her conversation with Neteyam just days ago… Now, she looked at you through his eyes.

She saw how you eagerly leaned in when Kiri spoke, how your fingers twitched like you were mentally cataloging each new piece of information. How you wanted to learn.

And suddenly, Mo’at understood. Understood why Neteyam had chosen. Understood why his heart had strayed outside the boundaries of their world.

Because you sitting before her now—the one who spoke of Pandoran plants as if they were as familiar to you as the sky—were not just a human.

You were something more. And for the first time, Mo’at truly saw you.

The sky was deepening into twilight, Pandora’s bioluminescent flora beginning to glow with soft pulses of light as the village settled into the evening. The faint hum of conversation and laughter drifted through the air from the communal fire, where the Omatikaya were gathering for their meal.

You had no intention of joining them. Not after last time. Not after the way Neytiri had looked at you.

Kiri nudged you with her elbow. “Come on. You’ve been working yourself to death for days. You should eat something.”

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Kiri raised an eyebrow. “What, why?”

You exhaled, glancing toward the gathered Na’vi. “Your mother wasn’t exactly thrilled the last time I was here.”

Kiri scoffed. “Please. That was weeks ago. She doesn’t hate you.”

You shot her a flat look.

Kiri winced. “Okay, maybe she strongly dislikes your presence sometimes, but she’ll survive.”

Kiri must have seen the hesitation in your eyes because she groaned loudly. “I swear, you’re impossible. I brought you all the way here to see Neteyam, not to have you freak out and run back to your lab.”

You frowned. “I’m not freaking out.”

Kiri scoffed. “Then prove it. Wait for him.”

You hesitated, glancing toward the paths leading out of the village. “I don’t know…”

Kiri rolled her eyes. “Fine, if you won’t come eat with me, then at least go wait for him in his kelku.”

You blinked. “What?”

Kiri shrugged. “He’ll go there eventually, and you’ll already be waiting. Perfect solution.”

Your stomach twisted at the idea. Being alone in Neteyam’s kelku, waiting for him? That felt… different.

More intimate.

More real. “I don’t know if I should—”

Kiri groaned. “For Eywa’s sake, just go.”

You exhaled, shifting your weight. “What if—”

Kiri’s sharp golden eyes pinned you in place. “Nope. No ‘what ifs.’ No more excuses. You’re staying.” She gave you a little shove. “Go.”

You swallowed hard but finally nodded. “Fine.”

Kiri smirked. “That’s more like it.”

With one last glance toward the glowing fire in the distance—where the rest of the village was gathered—you turned away, heart pounding as you made your way toward Neteyam’s kelku.

By the time you reached the large tree where Neteyam’s home was perched, the village around you had grown quiet. The laughter and chatter from the communal fire were distant now, muffled by the thick foliage. This side of the village, where many of the warriors had built their homes, was mostly empty at this hour—everyone had gone to eat.

Your heart pounded as you approached the base of the tree, craning your neck to look up. It was exactly as you remembered it. The woven structure sat high above, the bioluminescent flora casting a soft, ghostly glow against the thatched walls. A thick branch jutted out just beside the main entrance—a space for his ikran to land when needed. The climbing path up was built into the tree, reinforced with strong vines and footholds.

Taking a deep breath, you reached for the first one. Climbing was easier this time. The first time you had done it, Neteyam had been behind you, guiding your steps, making sure you didn’t slip. Now, you moved with careful ease, finding your footing quickly.

When you finally hoisted yourself onto the platform, you paused, catching your breath. The kelku was silent. Tentatively, you stepped inside.

The interior was just as you remembered—crafted with careful hands, strong yet open enough to allowing the night air to move freely through the space. Woven mats covered the floor, and the central fire pit was unlit, leaving only the glow of the surrounding plants to illuminate the space.

Your gaze drifted to the far side of the room. The bed. A soft nest of woven fibers, layered with thick pelts. Your stomach twisted at the sight of it.

Memories of that night came flooding back—the way his arm had been draped over your waist, the warmth of his breath against your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand.

You swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts away. Slowly, you walked further inside, taking in the small details. The way the space still smelled like him—woodsmoke, earth, something distinctly Neteyam. The way everything seemed lived in now, as though he had finally settled into this place as his home.

A quiet sigh left your lips as you sat down near the edge of the bed. Now all that was left to do was wait.

The night air carried the distant murmur of the village, a rhythmic hum of laughter and conversation from the communal fire. But here, high above the forest floor in the quiet sanctuary of Neteyam’s kelku, you were alone.

And you had been alone for the past hour. You had told yourself you would wait for him. That you would stay until he returned, just as Kiri had said. But now, as the time stretched on, doubt crept in.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe you shouldn’t have come at all.

You sat curled up on the thick pelts in the farthest corner of the room, your legs tucked beneath you, fingers absently fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. You had tried to be patient. But the longer you sat there, the more ridiculous you felt.

What if he wasn’t coming back tonight?

The thought made your chest tighten. You had spent the last few days convincing yourself that Neteyam was simply busy, that his absence wasn’t something to worry about. But now, sitting here in his home—his space—you felt like an intruder.

With a quiet sigh, you braced your hands against the bedding and pushed yourself up.

You should leave.

Even though your heart ached to see him, even though you had spent every night longing for the warmth of his arms around you, this… this was foolish. You had come here uninvited, desperate to catch even a glimpse of him after nearly five days apart. But what if—

The soft rustling of movement outside made you freeze.

Your breath hitched as a shadow moved across the entrance and you ploped down back to the pelts. And then, he stepped inside.

Neteyam.

He hadn’t seen you yet. His tall frame filled the doorway, his broad shoulders tense with exhaustion. His usually neat braids were slightly disheveled, a fine layer of dust coating his skin. He moved with the careful precision of a warrior returning from a long patrol, his every muscle taut from hours of vigilance.

Your heart clenched at the sight of him.

He was so tired. Neteyam exhaled deeply, rolling his shoulders as he stepped fully into the kelku, his movements slow and weary. He had been pushed hard these last few days—you could see it in the stiffness of his body, in the way he moved like every step carried a weight unseen.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he finally turned. His body went completely still. Golden eyes locked onto yours.

He froze, lips parted slightly, his breath caught in his throat. For a long moment, he simply stared at you, his expression unreadable—like he wasn’t sure if you were real or if exhaustion had finally broken him.

Your chest tightened. And Eywa, you had missed him. A slow, hesitant smile pulled at your lips. “Hey.”

The moment the word left your mouth, something shifted in him. His entire body seemed to release all the tension he had been holding for days, his shoulders dropping, his ears flicking forward. Relief flooded his golden gaze, his exhale unsteady as if he had been holding his breath for too long.

“You’re here,” he murmured, his voice rough from fatigue.

You nodded, stepping closer. “Yeah.”

For a brief moment, neither of you moved. You just looked at each other, drinking in the sight of the other like you were afraid to blink and lose this moment. Then, without thinking, he closed the distance between you and quickly crouching down before your sitting form, your hands reaching up to cup his jaw.

Neteyam sucked in a sharp breath. And then, he melted. His arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling up into an almost awkward standing pose, crushing you against him as he buried his face in your hair. His hands splayed across your back, holding you like he needed to anchor himself to something solid. His entire body trembled slightly, his exhale warm against your temple.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” you murmured.

Neteyam let out a quiet chuckle, but there was something raw underneath it. “I think I do,” he murmured, his voice thick with something unreadable.

You stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in his warmth, breathing him in. The steady, strong rhythm of his heart beneath your palm was soothing, grounding you in the reality that he was here, that he was safe.

Eventually, Neteyam leaned back just enough to meet your gaze. A smirk ghosted across his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “So… you were waiting for me, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

His smirk widened. “No, no. I like this.” His tail flicked playfully behind him, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. “I come home after a long day of being away, and what do I find? My little human, waiting for me in our kelku.”

Your stomach flipped.

Our kelku.

You swallowed hard, your face heating at the way he said it—so casual, like it was obvious, like there had never been a question in his mind that this place belonged to both of you. Neteyam’s ears twitched, his smirk deepening as he took in your flustered expression.

You tilted your head with a slight blush, studying him. “Are you okay?”

He let out a deep exhale, rubbing a hand over his face. “Now? Yes.” His sharp gaze softened, tail flicking. “I needed to see you.”

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, warm and steady. He needed to see you. Eywa, you had needed to see him too. Every part of you ached with it.

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, at the tired lines around his eyes, at the way his shoulders had finally relaxed now that you were here. You wanted to ease the tension from his body, to erase the exhaustion written in every inch of him.

And so, without thinking, you took a deep breath, fingers reaching for the seal of your exo-mask.

Neteyam’s eyes widened slightly, his body stiffening as he realized what you were about to do. His lips parted as if to speak, to protest— But then you pulled the mask off.

The rush of Pandora’s air hit your face instantly, cool against your skin and then, before he could say a word, before he could stop you—

You kissed him.

It was immediate, desperate. The moment your lips met his, Neteyam inhaled sharply, his hands tightening on your waist like he was grounding himself in the reality of you. And then, he kissed you back.

A low sound rumbled from his chest, something between a sigh and a growl, and it made your knees weak. His hands slid up your back, pulling you impossibly closer as he angled his head, deepening the kiss. He was starving for you, drinking you in like he had been deprived of you for too long—because he had.

His lips were soft but urgent, moving against yours with a kind of longing that made your heart clench. His sharp fangs grazed your bottom lip, and you shivered, fingers curling into his braids as you let yourself sink into him completely.

Gods, you had missed this. Missed him.

His lips moved against yours with a quiet urgency, warm and firm, drinking in every second of this stolen moment. His grip tightened as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer, tilting his head just right so he could claim you fully, completely.

Your lungs burned, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the way he felt—the press of his lips, the warmth of his body, the quiet, shaky exhale he let out when you ran your fingers through his braids.

But then, as if sensing the growing need for air, Neteyam gently broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was a whisper, breathless and soft against your lips.

“Put it back.”

His words were tender but firm, and you barely managed to nod before you quickly secured your mask back in place. The first inhale of filtered air filled your lungs, but your chest still felt tight—for a different reason entirely.

When your gaze met his again, Neteyam’s expression was soft, full of something deep and unspoken. His hand came up, his fingers grazing your jaw, then trailing down to rest against your collarbone, like he needed to feel that you were here, that you were real.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured, his voice low.

You gave him a small smile. “I wanted to.”

His ears flicked at that, something warm flickering across his features. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, wrapped in the quiet of his kelku, in the space between heartbeats.

Then, his fingers brushed along your waist, his voice quieter now. “Stay with me tonight.”

Your breath hitched, and his golden gaze searched yours, waiting. A slow smile curled at your lips. “I will,” you said, voice soft. “I promised.”

Something in his expression melted at that. And as Neteyam pulled you against him once more, tucking you beneath his chin, his arms wrapping around you in a way that left no space between your bodies, you knew. No matter how many days apart, no matter how long the wait—

You would always find your way back to each other.

I still don't understand why I'm making the whole story sooooo slow burn.

Part 21: To expect

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Flower Remedies

Flower remedies are specially prepared flower essences, containing the healing energy of plants. They are prescribed according to a patient’s emotional disposition, as ascertained by the therapist, doctor, or patients themselves.

THE 38 BACH REMEDIES

agrimony: puts on a cheerful front, hides true feelings, and worries or problems

aspen: feelings of apprehension, dark foreboding, and premonitions

beech: critical, intolerant, picky

centaury: easily comes under the influence of others, weak willed

cerato: unsure, no confidence in own judgement, intuition, and seeks approval from others

cherry plum: phobic, fear of being out of control, and tension

chestnut bud: repeats mistakes, does not learn from experience

chicory: self-centered, possessive, clingy, demanding, self pity

clematis: absent minded, dreamy, apathetic, and lack of connection with reality

crab apple: a ‘‘cleanser’’ for prudishness, self– disgust, feeling unclean

elm: a sense of being temporarily overwhelmed in people who are usually capable and in control

gentian: discouraged, doubting, despondent

gorse: feelings of pessimism, accepting defeat

heather: need for company, talks about self, and concentrates on own problems

holly: jealousy, envy, suspicion, anger, and hatred

honeysuckle: reluctance to enter the present and let the past go

hornbeam: reluctant to face a new day, weary, can’t cope (mental fatigue)

impatiens: impatience, always in a hurry, and resentful of constraints

larch: feelings of inadequacy and apprehension, lack of confidence and will to succeed

mimulus: fearful of specific things, shy, and timid

mustard: beset by ‘‘dark cloud’’ and gloom for no apparent reason

oak: courageous, persevering, naturally strong but temporarily overcome by difficulties

olive: for physical and mental renewal, to overcome exhaustion from problems of long–standing

pine: for self–reproach, always apologizing, assuming guilt

red chestnut: constant worry and concern for others

rock rose: panic, intense alarm, dread, horror

rock water: rigid–minded, self–denial, restriction

scleranthus: indecision, uncertainty, fluctuating moods

star of Bethlehem: consoling, following shock or grief or serious news

sweet chestnut: desolation, despair, bleak outlook

vervain: insistent, fanatical, over–enthusiastic

vine: dominating, overbearing, autocratic, tyrannical

walnut: protects during a period of adjustment or vulnerability

water violet: proud, aloof, reserved, enjoys being alone

white chestnut: preoccupation with worry, unwanted thoughts

wild oat: drifting, lack of direction in life

wild rose: apathy, resignation, no point in life

willow bitter: resentful, dissatisfied, feeling life is unfair

The system consists of 38 remedies, each for a different disposition.

The basic theory is that if the remedy for the correct disposition is chosen, the physical illness resulting from the present emotional state can then be cured.

There is a rescue remedy made up of 5 of the essences—cherry plum, clematis, impatiens, rock star, and star of Bethlehem—that is recommended for the treatment of any kind of physical or emotional shock.

Therapists recommended that rescue remedy be kept on hand to help with all emergencies.

Flower remedies are more homeopathic than herbal in the way they work, effecting energy levels rather than chemical balances.

They have been described as ‘‘liquid energy.’’

The theory is that they encapsulate the flowers’ healing energy, and are said to deal with and overcome negative emotions, and so relieve blockages in the flow of human energy that can cause illness.

Edward Bach was a graduate of University College Hospital (MB, BS, MRCS) in England.

He left his flourishing Harley Street practice in favor of homeopathy, seeking a more natural system of healing than allopathic medicine.

Concluded that healing should be as simple & natural as the development of plants - nourished & given healing properties by earth, air, water, and sun.

Bach believed that he could sense the individual healing properties of flowers by placing his hands over the petals.

His remedies were prepared by floating summer flowers in a bowl of clear stream water exposed to sunlight for three hours.

He developed 38 remedies, one for each of the negative states of mind suffered by human beings, which he classified under seven group headings: fear, uncertainty, insufficient interest in present circumstances, loneliness, over-sensitivity to influences and ideas, despondency or despair, and overcare for the welfare of others.

The Bach remedies can be prescribed for plants, animals, and other living creatures as well as human beings.

Originally, Bach collected the dew from chosen flowers by hand to provide his patients with the required remedy.

This became impractical when his treatment became so popular that production could not keep up with demand.

He then set about finding a way to manufacture the remedies, and found that floating the freshly picked petals on the surface of spring water in a glass bowl and leaving them in strong sunlight for three hours produced the desired effect.

Therapists explain that the water is ‘‘potentized’’ by the essence of the flowers.

The potentized water can then be bottled and sold. For more woody specimens, the procedure is to boil them in a sterilized pan of water for 30 minutes.

These two methods produce ‘‘mother tinctures’’ and the same two methods devised by Bach are still used today.

Flower essences do not contain any artificial chemical substances, except for alcohol preservative.

Bach flower remedies and flower essences have not yet officially won the support of allopathic medicine, despite the fact that more and more medical doctors are referring patients for such treatments on the strength of personal conviction.

However, it is difficult to discount the scores of testimonials.

Some practitioners refer skeptics to the research that has been done regarding the ‘‘auras’’ of living things.

Theoretically, the stronger the aura, the more alive an organism is. Flower essences have very strong auras.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References

[follow-up-news]

A nationwide recall of meat and poultry products potentially contaminated with listeria has expanded to nearly 12 million pounds and now includes ready-to-eat meals sent to U.S. schools, restaurants and major retailers, federal officials said. The updated recall includes prepared salads, burritos and other foods sold at stores including Costco, Trader Joe’s, Target, Walmart and Kroger. The meat used in those products was processed at a Durant, Oklahoma, manufacturing plant operated by BrucePac. The Woodburn, Oregon-based company sells precooked meat and poultry to industrial, foodservice and retail companies across the country. Routine testing found potentially dangerous listeria bacteria in samples of BrucePac chicken, officials with the U.S. Agriculture Department said. No illnesses have been confirmed in connection with the recall, USDA officials said. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has not launched an outbreak investigation, a spokesperson said. The recall, issued on Oct. 9, includes foods produced between May 31 and Oct. 8. The USDA has posted a 342-page list of hundreds of potentially affected foods, including chicken wraps sold at Trader Joe’s, chicken burritos sold at Costco and many types of salads sold at stores such as Target and Walmart. The foods were also sent to school districts and restaurants across the country. The recalled foods can be identified by establishment numbers “51205 or P-51205” inside or under the USDA mark of inspection. Consumers can search on the USDA recall site to find potentially affected products. Such foods should be thrown away or returned to stores for refunds, officials said. Eating foods contaminated with listeria can cause potentially serious illness. About 1,600 people are infected with listeria bacteria each year in the U.S. and about 260 die, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Listeria infections typically cause fever, muscle aches and tiredness and may cause stiff neck, confusion, loss of balance and convulsions. Symptoms can occur quickly or to up to 10 weeks after eating contaminated food. The infections are especially dangerous for older people, those with weakened immune systems or who are pregnant. The same type of bacteria is responsible for an outbreak tied to Boar’s Head deli meat that has killed at least 10 people since May.

[alexanderwales]

Alright, here's my dream Stardew Valley style game, designed for my own tastes.

You come to a small town with the usual twenty to thirty people. It's in the middle of nowhere. It's a fantasy town, and no one actually farms anymore, partly because it's only questionably profitable, partly because a lot of the knowledge has been lost. Instead, everyone uses these magic doodads which are very powerful but also very limited. The tavernkeeper has a doodad that makes him a single kind of weak ale and a single variety of off-tasting wine. The clothier has basically a square mile of linen to work with, and everyone wears her drab clothes. Tools are made from a doodad that the blacksmith owns, not even made of any actual metal, just a material that wears away after a month and needs to be replaced by a new copy from the blacksmith's doodad. People get their meals from the doodads. They get their medical checkups. It's all a bit shit.

Because I'm a worldbuilder at heart, I would have this all exist in the wake of a large-scale war that depleted the town of its fighting-age population, with the doodads being a sort of government program to ensure that more of the lifeblood of the town could be drained away. And for there to be some reason for the town to continue existing, perhaps the government is harvesting some resources necessary in the creation of doodads. That's enough for a pro-doodad faction and maybe some minor drama with them, though I do like the idea that the only reason things are Like This is because there was a war and things got bad. It's not necessarily a bleak town, but there's definitely a listlessness to it, a "what's the point".

So you're a farmer, but no one is really a farmer anymore. Maybe there are a few books, but you don't learn farming from books, you learn it from practical experience; that's a lot of what this game is about. When you start, there's no one to buy seeds from, there's just a bunch of wilderness where farms once stood, now all long overgrown.

So you go out and forage, for a start, and you clear the land, and you pay attention to the plants and how they can be used, and you start in on making recipes with them, maybe with the help of your grandfather's old, partially incomplete books. You find some wild corn that's a descendant of the old times. You find some tomato seeds in an urn. You discover potatoes because you see them dug up by a wild boar, which itself was once a domesticated animal.

In my ideal game, you need to pay attention to the soil quality, to how far apart things are planted, to what crops work well together. Farming is a matter of companion planting and polycultures. You get some chickens by giving them consistent feed, and you keep them around because they're natural pest control. Your climbing beans climb the stalks of your maize. You're attracting pollinators. (From a gameplay perspective, yeah, we probably put this all into a grid, and you have crop bonuses from adjacencies, and emergent gameplay that comes from all that, some plants providing shade, others providing nitrogen fixing.) You're a scientist making observations about the plants, maybe with your incomplete book giving you confirmation on the nature of all your crops once you hit certain production goals or a perfect specimen or whatever.

Cooking is the same. There has got to be a system that I like better than just "combine tomato with bread to get tomato bread". I'm pretty sure that it's some variant of the actual process I use when cooking, which is making sure that things are properly cooked, balancing flavors against each other, adding in a little salt or acidity or umami or whatever. Time in the kitchen, in this game, is often about making meals, ensuring that if you have a fatty piece of meat you have some asparagus that's coated with lemon to go with it. (From a gameplay perspective, I think building the dish once is probably sufficient and it can be automated after that, and building the meal is the same. I don't want to play this minigame every time I'm cooking a dish, I just want to play it a single time until I have good knowledge of the best way to grill a BBQ chicken breast with a homemade sauce.)

But if we're having a little minigame here where we pay attention to how long we're cooking the kale to make sure that it's the right texture, and we're paying attention to abstractified mouthfeel and palette, then we can get something else for free: variation. See, you're not just cooking to get an S grade, you're cooking for people with different tastes. The cobbler has a sweet tooth, the librarian loves fruity things, the mayor cannot stand fish, that sort of thing. From a gameplay perspective, maybe we represent this with a radar graph with some specific favorite and least favorite individual flavors, and maybe it's visible to the player, but the important thing is that player gets feedback and have a reason to strive for both "good" and "perfection" and some of this is going to depend on the quality of the ingredients.

And this is, gradually, how the town is brought back into the fullness of life. You're not just cooking for these people, you're also selling them food, and they're making their own recipes, and all the stuff that's not food is making their businesses not suck anymore. After the first test keg of ale goes swimmingly, the tavernkeeper wants more, a lot more, and puts in an order for hops, wheat, grapes, anything he can use to make things that will improve nights at the tavern. The clothier will skeptically take in wool and spin her own yarn, and then eagerly want more, because how awesome is it to have a new textile? There's a chemist who is extremely interested in dyes and paints, and wants you to bring him all kinds of things to see what might be viable for going beyond the ~3 colors that the doodads can provide.

So by year two, if you're doing things right, you're the lynchpin of the revivalist movement. People are now moving to the town, for the first time in decades, because they hear that you're there and doing interesting things with the wilderness. Maybe there are other farmers following in your wake, but maybe it's just new characters who are specifically coming because a crate of wine was shipped to the capital city. Maybe some of them bring new techniques for you, or a handful of plants from a botanical garden, and there are new elements for the minigames, or maybe some automation for the stuff that's old hat.

I think something that's important to me is that there's a reason for the crops you plant and the things you do. I always like these games best when it feels like I'm doing something for someone, when I can look at a plot of cabbages and think "ah, those are the cabbages I owe to Leon". Where these games are at their worst, everything is entirely fungible and I've planted eight million blueberries because they have the highest ROI.

And yeah, in most of these games, there are other minigames like fishing and mining and logging and crafting, and since this is just a blog post and not a game, I definitely could massively expand an already sizeable scope.

I think for mining the player would use doodads of their own, and maybe you could make a mining minigame out of that, using the same planting tile system to instead create an automated ore harvesting machine that plumbs the depths of the earth (possibly dealing with rocks of different hardness, the water table, and other challenges along the way).

Fishing is a question of understanding the different fish species, what they eat, where they congregate, and then setting nets or lines, since I have never met a fishing minigame I really enjoyed. Again, there's some idea that the player is gaining information over time, building up a profile of these fish, noticing that some of them go nuts when it rains, understanding the spawning season, that they go to deeper water when it's cold, etc.

Crafting really depends on what you're crafting, but if you're reintroducing traditional artisan processes to this town, then people are going to need tools and machines and things. I'm not sure I know what a proper crafting game looks like. The only experience I have to draw on is wood shop, where I made wooden boxes, cutting boards, and picture frames. Since this is an engineering-lite puzzle-lite game, you could maybe do something in that vein, e.g. defining a number of steps that get you the correct thing you're trying to make, but ... eh. I love the idea of designing a chicken coop, for example, or building a trellis if I want my climbing beans to not need maize, or whatever, but I don't know how you actually implement that. There are definitely voxel-based and snap-to-grid games where you build bases, and I tend to find that fun ... but it's mostly cosmetic, for the obvious reason that doing it any other way than cosmetic requires programmatic evaluation, which is difficult and maybe unintuitive. The closest I think I've seen is ... maybe Tears of the Kingdom? Contraption building? But I don't know how you translate that to a farming game. Maybe I should ask my wife about this, because she's always doing little projects around the house (an outdoor enclosure for our cats, a 3D-printed holder for our living room keyboard, a mounting for our TV).

Making an interesting crafting system is difficult, which is why pretty much no one has done it.

And if I'm talking pie in the sky, without concern for budget or scope, I want the villagers to all have a mammoth amount of writing for them. I want petty little dramas and weird obsessions, lives that evolve with or without my input, rudimentary dialog trees that let me nudge things in different directions. This is just an unbelievable amount of work on its own, it would be crazy, but I would love having a tiny little town game where sometimes other people would fall in love. I would like to be invited to a wedding, maybe one that happened because I encouraged the chemist to hang out with the clothier, and in the course of working together on dyes, they fell in love. With twenty people in town and another ten that come in over the course of the game if you hit the right triggers, I do think this is just a matter of having a ton of time/budget. You write tons and tons of dialogue so there's not much that's repeated, you have some lines of conversation between characters that are progressed through, you have others that trigger off of events, and then you have personal relationships between NPCs that can be progressed through time or with player intervention. Give single characters a pool of love interests, have their affections depend on their routine which depends on what's changed in town ... very difficult to do without spending loads and loads of time on it though.

Anyway, that's one of my dream games. No one is ever going to make it, it would be a niche of a niche, and as scoped here, is too much for a small team to ever actually finish, let alone polish. But it's the sort of thing I'm imagining in my head when I think about playing Stardew Valley and its successors.

[enavstars]

Cyberpunk au

RGB designs for a new au

Important things:

The inspiration for this was the game Stray (that I finally played).

This is a hyperfixation that I don't know when it's going to end. I'll probably draw things from it as much as my motivation lets me but don't expect it to be a constant thing like Eclipse or On the road.

I love worldbuilding so there is a lot of details of this au already, feel free to ask questions.

The world is dark and very corrupted but the tone of the au is chill because the sibs dgaf about the world.

Worldbuilding details (my friend wrote this because this is complicated and I suck at writing) [very long text under the cut]:

The key element of this AU’s worldbuilding is a new biohazardous artificial plant which was originally genetically engineered by the scientist of the RGB’s city-state to fight the air pollution that plagued the region by attempting to reduce the amount of CO2 from the atmosphere (yes this is a biopunk universe :)). However, because they are an ugly reddish colour, have a bitter taste and are extremely nutrient-deficient and unhealthy, they have no natural predators and can spread like wildfire across both fertile plots and forests like weeds. On top of that, due to that nutrient deficiency, which stems from the slow absorption ability of their roots (not nearly enough to keep the heavy rate of photosynthesis), they evolved on their own to attach themselves to other living beings as parasites and basically invaded the entire area around the metropolis. With them being potentially lethal, this caused a massive problem that made the city panic; although they have plenty of weak points (like fire and a vulnerable immune system) and it takes them very long to get their roots to the rest of the body, their grip is so deep and strong that the only option is to remove the infected body part. So their special ability became a critical issue when the plants unexpectedly ended up liking animals better, and with them humans themselves, because they could carry them to other places and infest those too while still sucking the life out of them until they die (oopsie). Ultimately, with the lack of proper information on the parasites, and because the situation was handled very poorly overall, they ended up taking many people’s lives and made the most vulnerable species of the area (like cattle) go endangered or extinct, which in turn altered the balance of the ecosystem and the working class’ means of living :).

Sorry this chunk was so technical, we (@kaigoesbrr and I) are biology nerds, but basically the plants were so good at making more oxygen and so ass at getting what they needed to do so that they became parasites, and now they get what they need from plants and animals (and they like animals better, like humans, because they have more stuff and help them spread further). Then society collapsed :).

All of this caused a deep economic crisis that brought about high rates of poverty, and with it, a deep fear of the infested world outside the city walls. So this whole conundrum led to the city closing off to the lands around it, implementing absurd levels of security like a tight border control and a slower, more strict business traffic, and making a huge dark translucent dome that encapsulates the whole city to keep any potential smuggled plants from ever growing by blocking the natural sunlight. They even made a ditch around their walls (kind of like a moat) and burnt and bombed the fields and suburbs around them to make them extremely infertile. So yeah, this city-state is a terrible place to live, a gloomy prison where not even the sun and stars can be seen, but most the inhabitants never leave out of that paranoid terror and the heavy bureaucracy needed to just go outside and touch grass.

(haha with poor funding corrupt scientists who didn’t know what they were doing made a mess, shocker how that would backfire horribly).

However, the outside isn’t as bad as they make it out to be. In the end, the plants did clean the air as they were supposed to, and, as nature does, it did somewhat recover from the disaster to where human life is now sustainable again.

Taking advantage of their thick crust, trees were the least affected by the plague, and the other plants in the forest developed new natural defences against the parasites, which was yet another reason why they in turn became best at infecting animals. And many of the fungi, abundant in the now more humid forest (haha cooler air equals more rain), took advantage of their weak immune system (due to their fucking incompetent creators making a mess of the original plant’s DNA) and infected them (haha scammer get scammed). So basically, the fields and farmlands were lost to the people, but the forests are still intact. Also, even though one of the rivers around the city, the one which makes its ways under it and is therefore connected to the water supply and sewer systems, is trashed, the other, which is further away, is now perfectly healthy due to the city closing off and therefore leaving it alone for enough time. The real issue here lies within the actual government, which obviously does not want to expose how corrupt and lazy they are when dealing with problems and so they keep fueling the paranoia of their most vulnerable citizens since they are kids :). One way they do so is by manipulating the information their people get, claiming bullshit like “the current ecosystem is wild and polluted, it cannot offer our economy anything anymore!” and “the plants are dangerous and will kill you if you ever come into contact with them, and they have infected virtually every living thing around!”. Another is by not educating their population about “the Outside”, treating it like a sort of taboo. Therefore, they refuse to explain, or hush those who try to, the actual danger of the plants and how to deal with them (they do have many weaknesses, after all).

But the people in this world have yet another nasty problem. In this AU there are beings believed to be anthropomorphic demons due to their pointy ears, fangs, and sometimes strange behaviour. But in fact, these people are descendants of the dragons that once lived in these nations, but their origins were forgotten as the world gradually lost touch with its spirituality and ancestry, and now those who were once revered for their “godlike attributes” (yes, they kinda worshipped dragons, I mean, who wouldn’t) are today facing discrimination. However, even though they aren’t considered exactly “people”, the pure humans are still kind of afraid of them, so they usually choose the subtler kind of racism. In most governments, “Demons” get less job opportunities and are denied high positions, can be freely banned from any establishment, and face unmatched prejudice just for existing, especially those with a stronger blood relation with their ancestry. In the city, they are treated as less than even the robots (nindroids of all kinds), who are treated like any other respected social group by now because they have grown so advanced that most of them are just like humans in metal armour. In fact, many of them are mechanics, who are held in high esteem for making the many bionic implants for the humans.

And all of that combined made the RGB siblings (who are obviously demons, especially Lloyd), decide never to leave the Outside, where they grew up, to go live in the city.

When they were younger, Kai and Nya adopted Lloyd when they found him asleep in a box in the middle of nowhere, after having been abandoned themselves a few years earlier. This time, though, their dynamic in this AU is more of a team than Kai being a mom to them both like he always is, so even if Kai feels the most responsible for being the eldest sibling, they rely on each other almost equally. They fend off the plants that threaten them with fire (no they do not have powers, but Kai uses a fucking flamethrower because it’s Kai), and usually live on whatever they can find in the wild: mostly by making traps for game, fishing in the cleaner river and occasionally foraging edible plats (that’s more risky and they are more carnivorous anyway). Also, Nya routinely strolls through the ruins of the suburbs to collect scrap junk to turn as much of it as she can into useful trinkets, the rest of which she sells to Ed and Edna’s junkyard and their son, who is an amateur mechanic (wink wink but no shipping actually). Apart from that though, they usually sneak into the metropolis to cause a bit of mayhem here and there, which over time and on top of the fear over their species has earned them a reputation of People You Don't Wanna Mess With (or "Demons", more like). More than once they’ve even messed with a few of the gangs around town, which started sprouting up after the disaster, so overall their presence in the city is tolerated, but frowned upon. They manage to bypass the annoying border control thanks to the faulty assistant robot who raised them, named Echo (wink wink), who cannot perform any other social job (what he was made for) than to be the ferryman for those few people who decide to cross the wide moat and venture out into the Outside. They usually take a secret tunnel that a few smugglers managed to make, and the Guard do nothing because they do not give a fuck about demons anyway (in fact, only a few people know that their actual names aren’t Red, Blue and Green because nobody gives a fuck indeed). They do actually know a few people there, some of whom are also demons (like Mistake and Ronin), but especially as kids (which is when the story starts) they spend most of their time in the wild chilling and going on adventures :³.

(no the city and the plants are not named, we’re lazy :))

Anyway this is what I'll say for now. There's a lot more info, and hopefully drawings, coming. Hope you like this au because I love it for now ^^

(Btw let me know if you want me to make a post/reblog explaining the designs for the Rgb siblings and some info behind them)

[crystalsenergy]

Draconic synastry 🔐🌌💗

Draconic Synastry chart calculator here.

Draconic charts are perfect for understanding some fragments of our Superior personality, our Soul, even because the Soul is in constant evolution and, despite this, as we evolve very slowly (as a rule), the draconic chart defines our Soul's recent personality and experiences that the Soul has accumulated so far, that form who it is. Yes, Souls have personalities! After all, our Soul is who we are.

The draconic chart is extremely relevant for connecting with our Essence and reaching a higher level of self-awareness, which can even help us understand how deep and beautiful we are in essence.

In today's post, I bring you a little about the draconic synastry chart, which is a beautiful and very interesting chart to look at. Because it is a synastry, we are facing 2 different people.

The draconic synastry chart is used to see past dynamics of interpersonal relationships such as friendships, partnerships, relationships between parents and children, lovers, relatives, enemies...

It helps us understand how our Soul feels in relation to the Soul of another - in this life (natal chart) and in a past, deeper sense too (draconic chart).

Below are some tips on how to read:

First of all, pay attention only to aspects that have a very close angle, as the Draconic synastry chart generally has different aspects, but many may not be understood by your current consciousness so easily, and may not manifest themselves intensely. Therefore, focus on exact aspects and orbit of a maximum of 1 DEGREE.

Tips for understanding the relationship between Draconic Chart x Natal Chart:

Draconic A x Draconic B: Soul to Soul (Soul contracts, Soul experiences, how people know each other and relate to each other on a Soul level)

Draconic A x Natal chart B: Soul to Consciousness of this life (How A's Soul feels about the current experience with person B in this life)

Natal chart A x Draconic B: Consciousness of this life to Soul (How B's Soul feels about the current experience with person A in this life)

Natal Chart A x Natal Chart B: Consciousness to consciousness. (that Synastry chart that we use to look at)

Planets in the Draconic Synastry Chart

(my perspective, which is a contribution, not an absolute truth):

Sun - Basic personality. Ego. Center of consciousness. Pride. Central traits of someone's personality. Personal brilliance.

Moon - The emotional life. Emotional connection. Emotional openness. Empathy. Family. Emotions. Roots. Sensitivity. Inner connection. Inner insight. Imagination. Emotional nutrition. Mother. Intuition. Home. Emotional home. Affections.

Mercury - Thought patterns. Solutions. Rationalizations. Issues involving communication, learning, mind, intellect.

Venus - Harmony. Love. Exchanges. Money. Pleasure. Stability. Relationship. Personality. Self-value. Self-appreciation. Balance. Give and receive. Feeling of worthiness.

Mars - Assertiveness. Action. Reaction. Control. Physical energy. Defense. Attack. Defense or attack mechanisms. Independence.

Jupiter – Belief systems. Faith. Optimism. Opportunities for growth. The optimism that can arise from this relationship. A connection through trust systems. The trips you take together - mentally or physically.

Saturn - Structure. Maturity. Responsibility. Restrictions. Slow growth. Harvest well-planted fruits. Authorities. Fears. Rigidity. Limiting beliefs.

Uranus – Originality. Innovation. Interruption. Quick changes. Thoughts. Mind. Unpredictability. Creativity. Dreams. Independence.

Neptune - Past. Dreams. Intuition. Connection. Spirituality. Psyche. Escape. Unconscious matters. Personal unconscious. Collective unconscious. Faith. Religion. Illusions.

Pluto - Deep Connection. Personal unconscious. Connection. Intensity. Deep internal issues. Taboos. Sex. Standards being transformed. Power. Control. Fear. Traumas. Regeneration. Rebirth. Transformation potential. Deeper patterns that are brought to the surface.

The aspects in Draconic synastry chart

Oppositions - Lessons being learned through discomfort, from learning through the opposite side. If there are oppositions, it appears that the necessary lessons may be in the process of being developed by both individuals in the areas that involve both planets. However, it has not been fully integrated yet because there is conflict. It's important to realize that conflict only exists to bring about awareness and evolution.

Squares - Squares in a Draconic synastry chart represent the souls' quest to learn together, even though they are aware that it will bring various tensions. It will indeed be challenging, but these are lessons that will push you to grow, require effort, awareness, and discipline. The keyword for squares is conflict that generates change, learning that promotes growth. Squares represent points of clash and tension. To understand a square aspect, you can think of the signs that naturally form this aspect. For example, Aries and Capricorn. These signs are very different. Aries is instinctive, fast, impulsive, assertive, independent, often preferring something new. Capricorn is traditional, closed-off, melancholic, restrictive, limiting, conservative, practical, and planned. In the relationship between these signs, many things need to be adjusted or even sacrificed (which is not always good) in order to achieve harmony. So, when reading a Draconic synastry chart, if you see squares, they can signify a significant opportunity for you to learn and evolve within a relationship. Obviously, always seeking to learn in calmer ways, as we don't necessarily need chaos to evolve.

Conjunctions - In a Draconic synastry chart, a conjunction represents that your souls feel connected because they share common points. It's a union of forces and efforts. Here, there's a significant possibility that people in this life are experiencing, expanding, and increasing the significance of points that already existed in their souls (points that involve the aspected planets). Conjunctions can represent points of evolution in an issue that has been repeating, meaning you are getting better and better at what your souls have in common and already possess, OR they can indicate a comfort zone, OR a boost of energy to be channeled in good ways. It all depends on the individuals involved, their choices, and the rest of the chart!

Sextiles - In a Draconic synastry chart, sextiles, in my view, represent points where your souls feel very comfortable together, points of harmony and mutual effort. Sextile aspects in the Draconic chart bring a sense of ease, something that is easily achieved through action. Here, we observe in which areas the two individuals involved have a facility to navigate those topics that involve the planets in the aspect.

Trines - Trines in the Draconic synastry chart symbolize even more ease in topics involving the planets of the aspect. These are points where your souls communicate very well, speaking practically the same language (the same element).

[hiddenpen]

Hi all! This is my first fanfic, I don't really know how to describe it or how to write warnings and such (help me pls), BUT!!! I can't stop writing so...here we are. Summary: it's a classic slow-burn (very slow-burn) Joel x OC story. I still have to decide if I like to write using the "you" pronoun (I'm more for an omniscent narrator voice), but I did not describe the OC on purpose, so you can picture her more freely - same for her age, even if I have her age in mind and sometimes some info will inevitably slip. It follows the main plot of the videogame and HBO series, but I will add many new parts and dynamics. In short, Anne and Joel are not exactly on good terms, but they are forced to work together again. I'm not good at writing summaries so I'll just leave here a quote from a chapter you will read in the future(eheh): “What?”, Anne raised a brow, playful, “you don’t think I’ve got taste?”. “I didn’t say that”, Joel said, his voice soft but teasing, “Just… didn’t peg you for a synth and eyeliner kinda person”. Anne laughed, the sound light and genuine, “Shows what you know. Some of the best songs come from that era. What about you, then? Don’t tell me - rock?”. Joel shrugged, “Mostly”. “Figures”, Anne smiled knowingly. “Lemme guess—Springsteen?” Joel narrowed his eyes at her, but there was a glint of humor there, “What’s wrong with Springsteen?”. “Nothing”, she said, leaning her head back against the wall, “Just predictable”. Joel smirked, “And new wave isn’t?” “I’ll have you know it’s timeless”, Anne shot back, grinning, “You should try it sometime. Expand your horizons”. Joel shifted slightly as someone passed through the tight hallway, stepping closer to Anne. She didn’t move, though her gaze flicked up to meet his, her back still against the wall. Enjoy and, if you want, leave a comment to let me know your thoughts! :) ----------------------------------------------------

Our Lives

Anne and Joel had known each other for quite a while now, she run away from Philadelphia to Boston five years after the outbreak. It was though, but she was working with some nice people, she thought, Kim and Timmy were the closest to be called friends. With others it was okay. Tess was kind, but there was an undeniable distance in her presence that left Anne feeling small, and she secretly strived to be more like her. There was something mesmerizing about Tess, a woman who could balance an almost brutal pragmatism mixed with a tenderness and empathy that seemed out of place in such a world. A word, a look, a cigarette smoked together after a long shift in the sewers – it was nice.

In any case, in Boston, she felt somewhat at ease, as much as one could feel at ease in a quarantine zone where injustice was commonplace and where no one could truly rebel against the powers that be. She had always found the political and social developments after the outbreak to be strange. She thought that perhaps, once many of the dynamics that made the old world such a dreadful place were removed—the territorial abuses, the oil tycoons, the arms trade, all the corruption within the economic system—people, now free from the elitist control of millionaires and the most corrupt politicians, might be able to create a different society. Maybe they could come closer, through suffering, as tragic as that sounded. But no,  a sapling planted in poisoned soil could never grow healthy.

Joel had arrived in Boston five years after her. She still remembered the first time they met and worked together, how she had instantly thought he was a real asshole.

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea”

There was a moment of silence before he responded, eyes narrowing as if he was holding back something sharp. “Okay”. Her hands were shaking with frustration, the words bubbling up before she could stop them. “I’m just saying-“

“Listen”, he cut her off, his voice cold, like steel, “If you really think I give a damn about what your opinion is, you’re wrong. Things happen”. Her fists clenched at her sides, the anger rising in her chest like a fire, “Things happen?! No one had to get hurt - or fucking killed!”. He let out a sigh, “They would’ve killed us!”

“How the hell do you know that?!”, her voice cracked with the weight of her frustration, but she wasn’t backing down. Now Joel was shaking his head in disbelief, “What’s your problem, huh?”

“My problem?” Her voice rose, “I can’t believe this. My problem is you’re so damn quick-tempered, and I don’t like it”. He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Oh, Jesus, come on! You’re acting like these were good people”.

“They were still people!” She shot back, her chest heaving with anger. “Who wanted to kill us!”, he completed her sentence, his voice was sharp, rising. She stepped away, there was no point in arguing with him, “Ah, fuck off”.

“Yeah, right back at you”.

Seven years had passed since that moment, and over time, she began to understand the kind of person he was. He was clearly wounded by something, but it wasn’t until a year or two later that he revealed he had a daughter. She never pressed him for details, but she could imagine. As time went on, she realized how much they actually had in common. Their personalities were different, yet they mirrored each other in many ways - both a little naïve, perhaps, and maybe a bit too reckless. They had formed something like a friendship, or at least, it seemed that way to her. Well, after Philadelphia, things fell apart eventually. What was meant to happen, happened. And now, here they were.

Two years after Philadelphia

They hadn’t talked for almost a year, but the wounds left behind still felt raw. Anne had switched smuggling groups not long after what happened in Philadelphia. It wasn’t Joel that had driven her away, at least that’s what she told herself. It was the way people looked at her. The heavy stares, the whispered condolences, the pity. She couldn’t bear it anymore, so she left. But sometimes, on her way back from a trade or scouting mission, she’d catch a glimpse of Joel. Just a silhouette disappearing down an alley or across the square, always with Tess by his side. She never approached him, and he never approached her.

Joel, for his part, had built walls so high around himself that even Tess barely scratched the surface. He worked, he survived, and that was it. But every so often, when he was checking the rotation schedules, his eyes would linger a little too long on Anne’s name. She was working safer routes now, no longer throwing herself into danger at every opportunity. He didn’t admit to himself that he was keeping tabs on her. He couldn’t afford to. But when he spotted her on the street, her figure smaller in the distance, a pang of something - guilt, longing, anger - hit him hard. It would pass quickly, and his cold exterior would take over again. Anne didn’t need to ask anyone to know he wasn’t the man she used to know. And Joel, though he tried to convince himself otherwise, still kept her on the edge of his thoughts.

Anne had been running with John’s crew for the past year. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something - something quieter, something without the constant shadow of pity or judgment. John’s crew didn’t know the details, and Anne liked it that way. They gave her space, let her work, and didn’t ask too many questions. That suited her just fine.

Today, though, she’d taken a personal interest in the job. Robert had screwed them over, disappearing with a shipment he owed John, and Anne had taken it upon herself to track him down. She wasn’t about to let some low-life thief make a fool out of her group. After some digging, she’d found out where Robert was likely hiding, a seedy corner of the QZ where the shadows felt heavier. It was exactly the kind of place a coward like him would scurry off to.

She could hear voices ahead - arguing, tense. Her instincts kicked in, and she stayed in the shadows as she moved closer. Peering around the corner, she froze. There was Robert, exactly where she’d expected him to be, but he wasn’t alone. Tess and Joel were with him.

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes landed on Joel. He looked… different. Colder, harder, like the Joel she’d known had been hollowed out and replaced with something darker. She’d heard the rumors, of course. Word of Joel and Tess had spread far and wide in the QZ. They were a ruthless pair, feared by almost everyone. Deals with them were hard, and any hint of betrayal was met with brutal consequences. Anne had heard stories - things that made her stomach turn. She thought the reputation didn’t suit him.

But seeing it - seeing him - was something else entirely. She ducked back behind the corner, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what to do. Walk away? Let them deal with it? No, that wasn’t her style. She was here for a reason, and she wasn’t about to let her nerves get in the way.

So she stepped forward, Robert was desperately trying to get the gate open, her expression calm and collected as she jingled the keys in her hand.

“Looking for these?”, she asked with a smirk.

Robert’s confusion morphed into rage as realization dawned, “You” he spat, his voice trembling with fury. “You fucking bitch!”. Anne didn’t flinch, her smirk deepening. “That’s not very nice, Robert. I thought you liked me”.

Before Robert could think of a retort, Tess acted. With a swift movement, she hurled a pipe she’d been holding, and it struck Robert’s knee with a sickening crack. He let out a strangled cry, collapsing to the ground. In an instant, Joel was on him, forcing him onto his stomach with ease. His knee pressed into Robert’s back as he pinned him down, his expression a cold mask of menace. The smirk slipped from Anne’s face, replaced by something else. Her eyes flickered to Joel, her pulse quickening in a way she didn’t fully understand. Joel, meanwhile, refused to meet her gaze. He couldn’t.

Tess crouched next to Robert, her voice low and threatening, “You’ve got two choices, Robert. Start talking, or things are gonna get real unpleasant”. Robert flinched at Tess’s words, his panic evident in the way his eyes darted around the alley. Anne, still holding the keys, stepped forward to open the gate. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed them toward Robert, where they clattered noisily on the ground near his feet.

Robert stumbled over his words, his hands shaking as he stammered, “I… I can’t… I can’t tell you”. Tess exchanged a glance with Joel, who let out a heavy sigh. Without hesitation, he grabbed Robert’s arm and twisted it, a sickening crack echoing through the alley. Robert screamed, collapsing on his face as he tried to clutch his broken arm. Anne froze, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Joel. He seems older. His beard now with more white hair, and for a moment her thoughts threatened to spiral before she yanked herself back to the present.

“Okay, okay!”, Robert gasped through gritted teeth, “I’ll tell you- fuck… it was the fuckin’ Fireflies”.

The name hung in the air, everyone was still for a moment. Anne glanced between them, catching the subtle tension in Tess’s jaw and the way Joel’s shoulders stiffened. Tess exhaled hard, her frustration bubbling over, “They weren’t yours to give,” she growled at the man on the ground.

“Well”, Anne addressed him, her voice dripping with mockery, “you certainly don’t lack self-esteem, thinking you could screw over not one but three of your suppliers”. Tess smirked faintly but kept her focus on Robert, who tried to muster some semblance of composure, his voice frantic but tinged with desperation, “Look, we can still make it work! We’ll figure something out! I’ll- I’ll get you what’s yours! I swear just-”.

Tess shook her head slowly, her disappointment razor-sharp, “I’d say you bet on the wrong horse”. And with that, she raised her gun and fired, the shot ringing out loud and final.

“No!” Anne’s shout cut through the air. She stepped forward, glaring at Tess, “Fuck, Tess! I needed him alive!”. Tess scoffed, her smirk unrepentant, “Well, you should’ve said something before”. Anne clenched her fists, forcing herself not to punch Tess right then and there. She exhaled sharply, letting her hands come down heavily on her thighs, “Oh, right. Why didn’t I think of that? As if you would’ve actually been reasonable”. Tess merely scoffed, not dignifying the comment with an answer.

Joel, meanwhile, avoided looking at Anne altogether. He stared at Robert’s lifeless body, his jaw tight, his mind whirring. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look at her-it was that he couldn’t. The thought of meeting her gaze, of the inevitable rush of everything he tried so hard to bury, felt like it would tear him apart.

“Well, now what?” he asked Tess, his voice low and defeated. Tess shrugged, gesturing vaguely, “Now we- fuck’s sake… now we look for a Firefly or somethin'”. Anne stepped forward, her eyes blazing, “Just so we’re clear, the weapons are not entirely yours. So, before we find a Firefly I say we discuss business”.

At that, Tess actually laughed, turning toward Joel, “Did I hear that right?”

“Oh, unless you hurt your ears from all the unnecessary shooting, you heard me very right”, she spat in response.

Joel finally looked at Anne, his gaze sharp and unwavering. For the first time in over a year, their eyes met, and Anne felt a rush of emotions she wasn’t prepared for. Joel forced himself to stay calm, masking the storm within him. “Well” he said, his voice flat, “y’ were kinda late”.

Anne’s anger flared hot and fast. How can he be such an asshole? But instead of indulging him, she shook her head in disbelief and folded her arms looking at Tess. Tess sighed, rubbing her temples as she glanced between the two of them. It was infuriating how much she cared about Anne - enough to consider a deal.

“Okay,” Tess began, “we’ll make a deal, but you-”. Before she could finish, a voice cut through the tension.

“Hope I’m not interrupting your little session here”.

They turned around to see from whom the voice was coming from. “Well, there you go. Queen Firefly”, Joel muttered to Tess, his tone annoyed. Marlene approached them, she was whimpering, her eyes sweeping the group and her expression as steely as ever. “Where’s Robert?”, she asked, clenching her jaw.

Tess stepped aside, gesturing at the body. Marlene exhaled sharply, “I needed him alive”. Anne scoffed, “That makes two of us”, she said, frustration dripping from her voice. Marlene’s sharp gaze flicked to Anne but didn’t linger. Instead, Tess addressed her, “The guns he gave you? They weren’t his to sell. We want them back”.

Marlen sighed, leaning on the wall, “Doesn’t work like that, Tess. I paid for those guns”. Joel, irritated, stepped closer, “you really don’t want to do this”. Anne thought she really couldn’t bear this version of him. He knew Marlene, could he really be this merciless?

But Marlene was unimpressed, “No. I don’t want to do…this. But you fucked up my deal, and I’m already fucked up enough” she sighed heavily, her hand covered in blood, after a long pause, she added “listen, you want your weapons, you follow me”, everyone could see she was exhausted.

Tess leaned in, skeptical, “How do we know you got them? If Robert screwed us, why wouldn’t you?” Marlene stared her down. “Because I’m not Robert. I’ll show you the guns, but you’re gonna have to earn them”.

Joel scoffed, “Jesus Christ” Tess glanced at him, her expression firm, “you wanna do this?”. He let out a frustrated sigh, “we don’t have many other choices”. Tess smirked slightly, turning back to Marlene and gesturing her to go, “alright. Show us the way, then”.

Tess kept glancing at Anne as they walked through the ruined streets, Joel and Marlene a few steps behind. The tension between them was heavy, Anne could feel Tess’s gaze burning into her back, and with each glance, her patience frayed a little more.

Until she finally snapped, “you need somethin’? I mean, I’m flattered, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a bit…creepy”.

Tess’s steps faltered briefly, caught off guard by the sharpness of Anne’s tone. She exhaled deeply, steadying herself before responding, “where have you been?”.

Anne scoffed, “minding my own business”, she said increasing her walking speed. But Tess wasn’t letting it go. Her voice turned sharper, a harder edge creeping into her words, “seems to me you’re minding a lot of people’s business”, she said, nodding toward Marlene, who was struggling to keep up, her hand pressed tightly against her side.

Anne shrugged, feigning indifference, “seems to me you’re minding mine”.

Tess’s lips pressed into a thin line, “I’ve got good reason to”. Anne was not having it, “and what would that be?”.

Tess leaned in slightly, her voice low, “You tell me. I thought you’d be more careful with who you chose to work with”. Anne didn’t slow her pace, her eyes focused ahead as she shot a quick glance at Tess, “So now it’s your business who I work with?” she quipped.

Tess’s voice followed her, more insistent, “It’s our business if you’re jeopardizing deals we’ve got lined up”. Anne gave a dry chuckle, the sound cutting through the tension like a blade, “Maybe you should be more careful about who you’re doing business with, then.” She glanced at Tess, eyes narrowing slightly, as if she was daring her to respond.

Tess’s brow furrowed as she shrugged her shoulders, her expression hardening, speeding up her pace to surpass Anne, “we’re careful enough to me”.

Anne’s lips curled into a faint, almost amused smirk, “yeah, that’s a peculiar way to describe it,” she muttered, her voice laced with a quiet challenge.

“Not that you’d know,” Tess shot back.

At that, Anne blinked, momentarily taken aback by the accusation. A flicker of something she couldn’t quite name - embarrassment, maybe - rose to the surface, but she shoved it back down. She wasn’t about to let Tess get the upper hand, “ ’m not really a fan of…” she paused as if to choose the right words, clicking her tongue, “…damage control”.

Tess stopped abruptly, “what’s that?!”. She raised an eyebrow, her tone sharper now.

Anne was caught off guard, almost bumping into her backpack. She quickly regained her composure, though her voice remained cool, “I’m just saying, you’ve got a reputation”, she said. Tess stepped closer, her eyes narrowing, “oh yeah? And what kind of reputation would that be?”.

“Not a nice one,” Anne replied, a faint smirk tugging at her lips, “but I’m sure you enjoy it”, she added as she made a move to pass, but Tess blocked her path, grabbing her arm firmly. Anne’s frustration flared instantly. She jerked her arm away, her voice tight with anger, “Let. go.”

Tess didn’t budge, as she stepped closer to Anne’s face, her eyes cold, “You think you’ve got the luxury to give us fucking- ethics lessons or somethin’, huh?”, Anne didn’t let her continue her sentence, “oh, I couldn’t care less about what you do. Believe me” she shot back, her voice laced with bitterness as she could see Joel’s arm reaching out to Tess’s shoulder, as to calm her down. But before he could do anything, Marlene’s voice cut through their argument, “Stop”. She was leaning heavily against a wall, her face pale and drawn, her voice strained with pain and irritation, “God. I’m fucking bleeding. Get a move on”.

Both Tess and Anne turned to look at her, their argument left hanging in the air. Tess muttered something under her breath, clearly still fuming, while Anne clenched her fists, swallowing down whatever retort had been on the tip of her tongue. She threw a quick glance at Joel, who looked away as soon as their eyes met. They resumed walking, the tension between them thick enough to choke on, but the silence was welcome after the heated exchange. Marlene shuffled along ahead of them, clearly too exhausted to deal with their fighting.

The camp was alive with quiet urgency as they arrived, the remnants of the Fireflies moving in and out of tents and makeshift structures. Marlene, her face pale and drawn, gestured toward one of her people, “I’m heading to the infirmary” she said, her voice strained, and she nodded at a young man, “Cody, bring them to the weapons”.

Tess and Anne exchanged a glance but said nothing as they followed Marlene’s appointed colleague. They were led to a large tent near the edge of the camp, where their guide pulled back the flap to reveal the stockpile. Anne blinked, momentarily stunned. It wasn’t just a few crates; it was a small arsenal. Rifles, pistols, boxes of ammo - enough to arm a sizeable group. Tess let out a low whistle, clearly impressed.

“Well”, Tess said, her tone satisfied, “That’s a lot”. Anne folded her arms, her gaze scanning the weapons. She didn’t say much, but the tension in her shoulders eased slightly. They all thought this was worth whatever they had to do.

They walked back to the infirmary, nobody dared to say anything, it was clear that whatever argument they had was not resolved, and was hanging over them. As they reached the entrance, Joel’s hand shot out, gripping Anne’s arm as someone rushed out of the tent, nearly crashing into her, “careful,” he muttered gruffly. Anne nodded stiffly. The unexpected contact sent a shiver down her spine, she tried to shrug it off, stepping into the chaos of the tent.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and blood. Cries and groans echoed from injured people sprawled across makeshift beds. Anne’s stomach churned. She didn’t want to be here - didn’t want to look at the mess of blood-streaked bandages and broken bodies. Her eyes flicked away from the blood-stained sheets, her gaze constantly shifting, unable to linger on any one person. The cries of the wounded gnawed at her, each one a reminder of the price people paid. She could feel her pulse quicken, her breath shallow as her skin prickled, the weight of it all settling in her chest.

She didn’t notice at first, but her footsteps had slowed to an agonizing crawl, she almost stopped in the middle of the tent, frozen by the chaos. Joel glanced back at her, her wide eyes betraying her growing distress, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. Tess brushed against her shoulder, and the sudden contact snapped Anne back to reality. Her eyes flashed up, sharp with surprise and frustration, wondering if Tess had noticed how badly she was faltering. Had Tess seen the cracks? The usual sickening feeling crawled up her bones. But Tess kept walking, and Anne finally followed.

They approached a cot at the back, where Marlene lay propped up awkwardly, her pale face etched with pain. “How are you holding up?” Anne asked, her voice steady despite the knot of unease twisting in her chest.

Marlene gave a dry chuckle, “Well, I’ve had better days,” she said, wincing as she tried to shift positions. “Let’s get to it. We were supposed to meet another crew, but... I’m not looking too great right now”. She paused, gritting her teeth as a fresh wave of pain hit. Before she could say more, a girl barged in.

“Marlene! What happened to you?” she asked, glancing around at the adults before adding, “This place’s already taken, in case you didn’t have eyes” her eyes snapping to Anne, who couldn’t help but smirk at the girl’s sharp remark.

“Ellie,” Marlene said, her voice weary but firm, “I know them. It’s fine. I got us help”. Ellie frowned but didn’t argue further, instead focusing her glare on Joel, who was staring at her with equal parts confusion and suspicion, “you’re recruitin’ kind of young, aren’t ya?”, he said to Marlene. “She’s not one of mine”, she just sighed. She paused, pain hitting her again, and Ellie was quick to go to her side “hey, take it easy”.

“It’s okay, Ellie. Now listen to me, I know you’re not going to like it but-“ she exhaled, “But I can’t come with you,” Marlene replied, her voice strained. She glanced at the others, as if silently apologizing for the situation.

Joel was trying to piece everything together, his gaze flicking between Marlene and Ellie, and then a frown deepening on his face, “Wait - are we smuggling her?”, he said pointing a finger at the kid. Marlene sighed deeply, her exhaustion evident. She winced slightly as she adjusted herself, pausing before she spoke. Her eyes briefly met Joel’s, “as I was saying, there’s a crew of fireflies that will meet you at the capitol building-”, but she couldn’t finish as Tess was quick to intervene “that’s not exactly close”,

“You’re capable” Marlene said, her voice steady despite her apparent weariness. “You hand her off, come back, the weapons are yours. Double what Robert sold me”.

“Jesus Christ”, Joel sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration.

Anne stayed silent. The tension in the air thickened, the weight of the decision pressing on everyone. Marlene could sense the hesitation. She added, her voice softer but more insistent, “I’ll give you some supplies too, whatever you need to keep her safe”.

Tess sighed, looking from Anne to Joel, then back to Marlene, “where are these supplies of yours?”

Marlene turned her gaze to Anne, her tone almost casual, “Anne can take you to it”.

Tess’s eyes narrowed, suspicion rising. She turned her head slowly, studying Anne for any sign of unease. Anne, however, refused to meet her gaze, her jaw clenched, the tension in her body betraying her.

Marlene’s voice was firm, “You can go, take all you want. But I want Joel to watch over Ellie”.

At that, both Joel and Ellie protested in unison.

“Bullshit, I’m not going with him!”, snapped Ellie. “Woah, whoa, I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Joel muttered, looking at Ellie with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

Ellie’s eyes darted to Marlene, “How do you know them?”. Marlene hesitated, her gaze drifting slightly before answering, “I was close with his brother, Tommy. Said if I was ever in a jam, I could rely on him”. Joel, not missing a beat, shot back, “Was that before or after he left your little militia group?”

Marlene’s face tightened, her jaw setting with resolve, “He left you too. He was a good man”.

Joel shook his head, the frustration evident in his posture. Tess moved closer to him, her voice low but insistent, “Look, just take her to your apartment and wait for us there”.

Joel sighed, a deep, exasperated breath, “Jesus…”

“She’s just cargo, Joel!” Tess’s voice was sharp, trying to get through to him.

Anne could feel the tension in the air, understanding why Joel didn’t want to be burdened with this. Hell, she didn’t even know how she got herself tangled in this mess. But Joel didn’t say anything more. He glanced at Ellie, his gaze softening for a moment before he approached Tess, muttering, “Don’t take long”. He looked at Anne for a split second, then back to Ellie, “And you, stay close”.

Ellie remained rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on Marlene, who spoke gently, “Go with him”.

“But-“ she tried to protest.

“You’ll be fine”. The words lingered in Ellie’s mind, and with a slow, reluctant step back, she met Marlene’s gaze one last time. There was nothing more to be said. Everyone quietly filed out, leaving the tension of the moment behind them.

The rain was falling steadily by the time Tess and Anne reached Joel’s apartment. The dim glow of streetlights reflected off the wet pavement, casting long shadows as they approached the familiar building. Anne kept her head down, trying not to think about the fact that she was about to step into Joel’s apartment again after all this time. Her stomach churned uneasily, though she refused to acknowledge why.

Tess opened the door and gestured for Anne to follow her up the stairs. Anne hesitated for a fraction of a second before steeling herself and stepping inside. The worn stairs creaked beneath their boots as they climbed, the sound mingling with the faint patter of rain on the windows.

When Tess finally opened Joel’s door, Anne was hit with a wave of familiarity. The smell of the room, once so deeply ingrained in her memory, was now sharper, more potent. Her eyes scanned the apartment, taking in the small details - the battered furniture, the sparse decor, the faint clutter that all screamed Joel.

Near the window, Joel and Ellie stood side by side, their silhouettes outlined by the faint glow of streetlights outside. Tess spoke first, her voice breaking the quiet tension, “Sorry it took so long”.

Joel didn’t respond immediately. His gaze was fixed on Anne, who met his eyes reluctantly, her mind flickering back to the last time she had been in this apartment. The memory was unwelcome, tugging at emotions she didn’t want to revisit.

The silence stretched just a beat too long before Tess noticed the discomfort. She glanced between Joel and Anne, a flicker of curiosity crossing her face, but she didn’t press. Instead, she broke the moment, “Are you ready to go?”

Joel blinked and tore his gaze away from Anne. Clearing his throat, he shifted his attention to Tess, “Yeah - yes, let’s go”.

Tess turned to Ellie, who was watching the exchange quietly, her shoulders slightly hunched, “Hey kid, do you have a jacket?”.

Ellie nodded, “Yeah”.

“Then put it on”, Tess said firmly, “And stay close to us”.

Ellie didn’t argue. She simply nodded again and pulled her jacket tighter around her, tension evident in the way her hands moved.

Anne stood near the door, holding it open as everyone began to file out. Ellie was the first to step through, followed by Tess. Joel lingered behind. As he reached the door, he stopped in front of Anne, his frame close enough that she caught the faint scent that once had been familiar.

“I’ll close the door”, he said, his voice low. He nodded toward the hallway, waiting for her to step out. Anne hesitated for the briefest of moments, then nodded back and walked through the doorway.

As she moved ahead, she could still smell his scent lingering in the air, and the flicker of his eyes in the dim light stayed with her longer than she liked. She swallowed hard and kept walking, the sound of Joel closing the door behind her a quiet punctuation to the moment.

The rain greeted them again as they stepped into the night, and Anne pulled her jacket tighter around her, focusing on the path ahead.

[seriousbrat]

Golpalott's Laws

I've done Gamp's Law before, so now let's tackle Golpalott!

We know from canon that there are at least three laws, and we know the third law word for word thanks to Hermione. I'm going to take a stab at some other possible laws, 5 in total. None of this is based in canon but on historical concepts within herbal medicine!

You can also refer to my potions and ingredients guide for more info!

I'm going to start by assuming that Golpalott's laws refer specifically to the creation of antidotes, rather than potion-making in general.

GOLPALOTT'S LAWS FOR THE CREATION OF ANTIDOTES.

Law #1

An antidote will consider first things Healthful, then things Unhealthful.

This is based on an idea outlined by Roman physician Galen in his Ars Medica. How I would understand it in terms of making antidotes is that in order to create an effective antidote you have to consider the 'healthy' state that the body should be in and primarily work towards that as a desired state, before focusing on addressing specific symptoms. (a pretty basic idea in holistic medicine)

Law #2

An antidote will strive for balance in all things.

This is related to what I briefly covered in the potions guide linked above about herbal energetics. Essentially, this would mean that you must consider the antidote as a balanced whole, the different components working in harmony with each other-- rather than just chucking in ingredients that seem to cure the specific malady. Too many ingredients with one single effect might cause an imbalance in other areas of the body, so this must be counterbalanced.

Law #3

The antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components.

This is the one we know from canon. Essentially it means that for more complex poisons made from multiple different venemous components, it's not enough for the antidote to address each individual poison. The antidote must also contain an additional component that makes the potion work 'near-alchemically' as a balanced whole. This law relates directly to Law#2 but is a continuation of it.

Law #4

An antidote will travel the most expedient path through the body, as indicated by the poison in question.

This is related to what Matthew Wood talks about here on the affinities of specific herbs to specific organs. According to Wood, three basic principles ought to be considered: (1) the affinity of the herb to a pattern of disease, (2) the affinity of the herb to an organ or system, and (3) the affinity of the herb to the basic pattern of self-governance in the organism (from center to circumference). These ideas stem from the work of Galen and Nicholas Culpepper.

So, when creating an antidote for a specific poison, you first have to identify what part of the body that poison affects, and choose ingredients that will direct your antidote to the affected organ or system as efficiently as possible.

Law #5

The components of an antidote will reflect the nature of its poisonous counterpart.

This is based on the ancient doctrine of 'like cures like,' or similia similibus curantur, first put forth by Paracelsus, and is the founding concept behind the pseudoscience of Homeopathy. It's essentially the idea that specific maladies can be cured with controlled doses of whatever produces the malady in the first place. I also cover this in the guide linked above. While this has no scientific basis, it is true that historically, toxic plants have been used as medicine in various ways. So in a fantasy world I think it's interesting to consider this as an idea: using small amounts of venomous substances in order to cure poisonings.

[youzicha]

Normal Accidents

📖Charles Perrow, Normal accidents: living with high-risk technologies, 1984. Second edition 1999.

The Title

This is another example of a book that lives on its title, a great racket which works like this:

Find a proposition which many people would like to be true. E.g., Nations are fake and don't exist except in people's imagination. Victorian doctors used vibrators as a treatment for hysteria. Computer programming used to be gender-balanced and then male programmers took over. There's no way to run a nuclear power plant without accidents.

Find a catchy phrase that strongly hints at the proposition without outright stating it.

Write a few hundred pages of text: long enough that plausibly somewhere in there could be convincing evidence of proposition X, and someone would have to spend a whole day reading to find out whether there is or not.

Congratulations, you are set for life.

The Theory

The book theorizes that there is a particularly intractable type of accident which it calls “system accidents”. They are different from simple component failure accidents and happen in systems that are “complex” and “tightly coupled”. It classifies systems on two axes: a system is “linear” if each subsystem mostly interacts with one subsystem in front and one after (like an assembly-line factory) or “complex” if the subsystems all interact with each other, and it is “tightly” coupled if each subsystem immediately affects the other one without room for recovery.

Perrow then reads a bunch of accident investigation reports from different industries (nuclear, chemical, airlines, maritime, etc) and highlights interactions and coupling. The whole book produces this diagram:

From this we conclude… what exactly? Maybe that system accidents are important, and we should pay attention to them? Or slightly stronger, that there are more accidents in the upper-right quadrant than in the other ones? A big problem is that Perrow never says precisely what he is trying to prove and doesn't apply any objective measures.  I would want to count the number of accidents in different industries, and compare the ratio of system/non-system ones, or compare the absolute numbers, but Perrow just relates a sampling of accidents and says that they are illustrative.

Whether these accidents really are good illustrations of "system accidents" seems to depend a lot on the spin he puts on them. The classification into complex versus linear seems very hand-wavy. In one example of aviation, which is supposedly complex, "even after bailing out … there was room for the unexpected interaction" because the pilot was hit on the head by the falling ejection seat. By contrast the mining industry is assigned the center of the linear-complex axis, and one example concerns a worker who walked under a conveyor belt—and got hit on the head. Basically the same accident can be glossed as interactive or not.

Or how about this airplane accident:

The next accident, an account of problems with a four-engine corporate jet, the Lockheed Jet Star Model 1329, is more prosaic, but it gives some idea of the world of corporate jets and involves a system accident, unusual risks, and a safety change that was responsible for killing eight people. The safety improvement involved new, solid state units in the generator control units and new wiring. The airplane was flight-tested after installation and one generator failed. Repairs were made. In the next test flight, all four generators failed at one time or another, and were manually reset during flight. [Two weeks later] The plane crashed a mile short of the runway […] The NTSB is not certain of the proximate cause of the crash […] The example strongly suggests a system accident

It is typical of the book: there are no statistics showing that system accidents are common, only isolated examples, and in this example he doesn't even know what caused the accident!

(Later in the book the level of rigor goes down even further. For accidents in space, instead of reading accident investigation reports Perrow says "I am drawing here on the immensely entertaining, and exceptionally perceptive book by Tom Wolfe, The Right Stuff." Then for accidental war the discussion is based on Dr. Strangelove. And then he turns to DNA technology, which "appears to be complex in its interactions and tightly coupled, but I caution the reader that I know even less about it than I do about nuclear weapon systems." Thanks.)

But the actual central claim that Perrow wants to conclude is something even stronger than that systems accidents are common: he says that there is no way to prevent them. Thus the final chapter says that we should only accept complex-coupled systems if accidents have acceptably small consequences, and otherwise we must replace them with safer alternatives. In particular Perrow wants to get rid of nuclear power; the book started as an anti-nuclear pamphlet written after the Three Mile Island accident. But it seems quite hopeless to prove this impossibility by just reading accident reports.

So the book has much talk about catastrophic risk, but very few testable predictions. In fact, I could only find two. First, there is this paragraph about airline accidents:

With millions of operating years of experience, repeated trials, tests without catastrophic consequences, and considerable government support, the industry has been able to maximize the potential for technological fixes, including buffers and redundancies. Two engines are better than one; four better than two; the jet engine less complex than the piston engine; and of course the industry makes use of exotic new materials and instrumentation. System accidents in flying will remain, but they have been reduced substantially. […] The safety of both automobile travel and airline travel (and military and general aviation as well) has increased dramatically in this century, but since the 1960s and 1970s the safety curve has flattened out; we appear to be in the area where further increases are very hard to achieve.

It seems to say that airline accidents first fell quickly because we solved the issue of component failures, and now will fall no more because the rest is intractable systems accidents.

Second, there's this nicely unambiguous paragraph:

I would expect a worse accident than TMI in ten years—one that will kill and contaminate. […] There will be more system accidents; according to my analysis, there have to be. One or more will include a release of radioactive substances to the environment in quantities sufficient to kill many people, irradiate others, and poison some acres of land. There is no organizational structure that we would or should tolerate that could prevent it. None of our existing reactors has a design capable of preventing system accidents. Perhaps a safe one will be discovered—loosely coupled and linear—but I am doubtful.

Forty years later, there has not been any accidents in American nuclear power plants, so the analysis seems nicely refuted. The airplane accidents also did not come through. The trend in the 20th century was that the accident rate halved every 10 years:

And based on this data the same trend remained. From 1983-1989 to 1990-1999 the deaths per departure halved, from 1990-1999 to 2000-2009 they halved again, and from 2000-2009 to 2010-2017 it decreased even faster.

As it happens, there's a second edition from 1999 with a retrospective afterword, and it talks about how warmly the book was received while skipping over the fact that its predictions were wrong. It says “Commercial jet disasters are at approximately the same (low) level as in 1984, per departure” (no), and “of course we had Chernobyl”. But Chernobyl was not one of the American power plants whose incident reports the prediction was based on, and also it was not a systems accident. There was only one relevant subsystem, the core, and only one relevant parameter, the power output.

The second edition also adds a chapter about the Y2K problem, which could be "a test of the robustness and applicatory scope" of the Normal Accident Theory. While officials are optimistic, those Y2K plans are "fantasy documents" and there could be disaster whose "potential scale and scope dwarfs all other 'normal accidents' discussed in the book". (Notably one of the scenarios discussed in the book is a global nuclear war.) Having seen the actual outcome of Y2K, I think the robustness and applicatory scope comes across as well here as in the other cases.

Annoyances

So the theory seems dubious and the conclusions wrong, but that on its own would not make me write this long screed. What really gets to me is two annoying tics in the writing. First, constant smugness. The style matters because most of the book consists of summaries of accident investigations, and although they are supposed to illustrate his "normal accident theory", in practice he is mostly just writing descriptions without any particular theoretical angle. Of course I love reading accident reports too, but these days you can get all the pdfs you can read at the click of a mouse button, which raises the question what Perrow adds over the source material. And the main difference is that he thinks he is smarter than everybody else, and lets us know so through constant asides.

First, he is smarter than the reader. The first chapter, about the TMI accident, reassures us that it "will be the most demanding technological account in the book, but even a general sense of the complexity will suffice if one wishes to merely follow the drama rather than the technical evolution of the accident." Don't worry your pretty little head, Perrow is here to explain things. This tendency is even more annoying when he doesn't understand what he is explaining. He does not know what the word envelope means, and then projects his own confusion by saying that this aspect of flying has "poorly understood dynamics".

Second, he is smarter than the accident investigation board, and takes random snipes at them. A random board member in a press conference mentions a “remote possibility”, which Perrow jumps on. He comments that in marine accidents "the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) do what they can. But they can do little in this error-inducing system. […] It can happen. It is bound to. The recommendations are futile." I guess his methodology forces him to take this polemical tone, because all he is doing is reading accident investigation reports, so if he didn't complain, there would be nothing added by his descriptions.

In fact, he is smarter than just about anyone, and happy to share his observations even if they are not related to the accidents at all, e.g. “the approach to the Westchester Airport goes right over an interstate highway with one of those curious signs with the fruitless warning: ‘watch out for low flying aircraft’”.

I think this is a general hazard with writing about nuclear policy: both the pro- and anti-sides seem to have a lot of very smug people. I think for me the biggest takeaway from this book was that I should try to tone it down in my own writing.

The other annoyance is that Perrow never mentions any numbers, even in situations that really cry out for them. For example, there are many mentions of plutonium, in criticality accidents or when it was accidentally released from the Oak Ridge National Laboratory. An article says “‘in all plutonium incidents to date, only a small fraction of the plutonium involved was released.’ That is like saying that in a war, only a small fraction of the bullets kill anyone.” A Titan ICBM can “literally go off with the drop of a workman’s wrench and possibly release plutonium”.

And beyond these local accidents, in 1964 there was a “cosmic” one: “Most of the failures of the space program have not been death-dealing, and if they were, they were limited to first-party victims—the astronauts or technicians. However, in three cases of failures with plutonium power packs, the risks are potentially catastrophic, since plutonium is perhaps the most deadly substance known to humans. … a navigational satellite sent up in 1964 that failed to achieve orbit when its rocket engine failed. It reentered the atmosphere over the Indian Ocean and distributed 1 kilogram of plutonium-238 about the earth.”

Like, at this point surely you’d want to know how many people were actually killed? From looking around on google a bit, it seems the 1964 satellite may have caused two hundred cancer deaths if you assume the cancer risk scales linearly to extremely small radiation doses. (And it prompted a change in policy to no longer let plutonium burn up in the atmosphere.) To me this kind of number seems essential to judge how catastrophic the accident is.

Another example where the numbers are lacking:

The price of electricity from nuclear power plants does not reflect the very large government subsidies, nor the costs of the unsolved problem of long-term waste storage, nor even the unknown costs of dismantling reactors after their forty allotted years, if they run that long. Had all these been properly considered in the 1950s and included in the cost, this book would have not been written because no utility would have ordered a plant.

This claim is not cited to anything. I believe that people were in fact considering this, but in any case the costs are now known: the long-term waste storage came to 0.41 cent/kWh and the dismantling to 0.24 cents/kWh. Meanwhile electricity prices have varied between 19 cents/kWh and 13 cents/kWh (in 2020 dollars), so the waste + decommissioning costs are a rounding error in comparison to other factors.

At some point he says that “you are good at counting while I (as I tell my quantitative colleagues) don’t count”, but really, you live like this?

Coal versus nuclear

Perry spends most of the book talking about the risk from nuclear power plants. But what is the alternative? In the introduction he says

There is no technological imperative that says we must have power or weapons from nuclear fission or fusion, or that we must create and loose upon the earth organisms that will devour our oil spills. We could reach for, and grasp, solar power or safe coal-fired plants

And then he doesn’t mention those coal plants again until the final chapter. But as he was writing, American coal plants were killing 30,000 people/year. Compared to the deaths from cancer, that corresponds to multiple Chernobyl accidents every year. Does he not know this?

Actually he includes a final chapter about “current risk assessment theory”, where he notes that fossil fuel plants kill a lot more people than nuclear power, but nuclear power provokes more “dread” and “the public’s fears must be treated with respect”. I feel this would be more convincing if Perrow had not spent an entire book trying to stoke that fear.

He gives a more operational description of “dread risk”: “lack of control, high fatalities and catastrophic potential, inequitable distribution of risks and benefits, and the sense that these risks are increasing and cannot be easily reduced by technological fixes”. I think this still doesn’t distinguish the coal pollution and nuclear accidents very well. Neither is controllable, the particulate emissions and the radioactivity both drift with the wind, the parties that take the risk and benefits are the same for both, and the “sense” that technological fixes don’t work is illusory.

Of course, nowadays we know that coal has has another drawback besides the particulate pollution, and this is mentioned in a single paragraph, literally in parentheses!

(One enormous risk which the industrialized nations may be facing is not considered in this book on normal accidents; eliminating this ill would require much more drastic measures than any of the above: This is the problem of carbon dioxide produced from deforestation primarily, but also from burning fossil fuels such as coal, oil, and wood. This threatens to create a greenhouse effect, warming the temperature of the planet, melting the ice caps, and probably causing an incredible number of other changes, most of them disastrous. If it is significant—the experts do not agree—we may have a few decades to handle this; but it may be too late. It is one of the strongest cards the nuclear addicts can play, though the enormity of the problem, by some accounts, would dwarf the capacities of nuclear industry. We would have to divert our energy and natural resources from much of industry and use it to build nuclear plants for the next generation to meet some estimates. Battalions of scientists, engineers, and operators would have to be recruited and trained, and so on.)

Conclusion

This book is frequently cited (I have even seen tumblr users refer to it), and I think it’s considered a classic, so I was very disappointed. Let’s mark it as another mistake of the 20th century and forget all about it.

[brawlingdiscontent]

TV is ultimately a visual medium and it often relies on visual metaphor to convey complex ideas to viewers. Black Sails and Interview with the Vampire both use the form of painting to further their thematic explorations of meaning-making via narrative. What I mean, essentially, by this fancy language is that the shows use painting to explore how the stories we tell ourselves and others shape our experiences of reality (and reality itself). 

Spoilers for Black Sails season 1 (mild), both seasons of Interview with the Vampire below.

My first target is Black Sails’ iconic “Fruit, fruit; tits, tits” scene in season 1, episode 2. Below its surface-level general hilarity, it taps into some of the show’s key themes. In the scene, we see a pirate captain and an appraiser looking at two paintings with identical subjects but painted at vastly different skill levels. One is ‘unmistakably’ a ‘masterwork’ by the painter Adriaen Hanneman. The other is an amateur knockoff. The appraiser says, “To suggest that the value of one has any bearing on the other simply strains the very bounds of reason.” However the captain starts the scene off by highlighting their similarities, pointing back and forth between the two paintings (if you haven’t seen it, try to imagine these lines in a thick Scottish accent):  “Fruit, fruit; tits, tits; plant, plant – it’s the fucking same.”

This exchange reveals that value is constructed, not inherent. To accept the claim that the Hanneman painting is worth more than the knockoff requires one to buy into a pre-existing value system regarding what makes for “good” art. The local pirate’s refusal of this system signals the potential of Nassau to generate collective meaning outside of the central authorizing force of England (here represented by the appraiser). The question at hand in this short scene—who ultimately decides and how do they define the relative worth of the paintings?—is what Black Sails is asking on a grand scale. In this brief exchange we find the central conflict of the show which sees Black Sails' characters battle England and each other for control of the narratives that shape their existence. 

In contrast to Black Sails’ look at grand narrative, Interview with the Vampire explores narrative on a smaller, more personal scale. While Black Sails is primarily about struggle, marginalization, and how narratives sway the balance of power, Interview with the Vampire ponders the role that narrative plays in defining the highs and lows of a meaningless existence. The show considers how the stories that give us meaning are generated (particularly via memory) and where they may be flawed. Most obviously/prominently are the many narratives that Louis constructs (and that Daniel challenges) through the titular interview, but the theme pops up in a number of other places, from Claudia’s diaries, to the coven’s ritualistic stagings of what it means to be a vampire—and this is particularly evident in season 2. 

Armand struggles with an absent self-narrative. Lacking a strong concept of who he is, he instead relies on others’ understandings of him, and the show uses painting to help convey this. When Armand takes Louis to see the portrait of him commissioned by his maker, he asks: “Who am I, Louis? Am I my history I have endured? Am I the job I do not want? I do not know anymore. No one has painted me in 400 years,” revealing how deeply he depends on external narratives for his own meaning-making processes.

Painting and its analogue photography are also significant to Louis’ grappling with meaning-making both inside and outside the context of the interview. One way the show makes this connection is through a subtle use of set design. Louis has strewn the walls of the Paris apartment with paintings and photographs—portraits, specifically—that can be read to represent various selves he’s trying on in a cluttered meaning-making process while he’s “out here finding [him]self.” Louis jokes to Armand that the portraits “hide the cracks in the walls,” but they arguably metaphorically hide the cracks in Louis’ sense of self. 

The writers/set designers also use painting to signal Louis’ missing memory. In the 1973 scenes in 2.5 (the big ‘missing memory’ episode), above the coffin in Louis’ townhouse are empty spaces on the wall where paintings once hung. They visually echo Louis’ reference to, “Pieces of myself, missing. I knew who I was without those pieces,” later in the episode. 

The ‘Bacon triptych’ is another key point. Armand keeps Louis in the dark about the status of the painting hanging in their living room. When he announces that he’s found a buyer, Louis says, “I didn’t know we made it available.” Later when Rashid comes in to notify them that the buyer’s lawyer is ready for the teleconference, Louis asks ‘Lawyer?’ and Armand responds, “It’s about the painting, the Bacon triptych.” Louis’ ignorance here maps onto his ignorance about his missing memories, and signals Armand’s control of the narrative. Meanwhile questions about the painting’s authenticity that arise in the call with the buyer’s lawyer subtly foreshadow later questions about the authenticity of Louis’ memories of the first interview—as do the act of Louis’ photographs being replaced with Fred Stein’s in Louis and Armand's album.

Louis and Armand’s disagreement about what to put on the wall to replace the triptych signals a breakdown in their collective meaning-making as a couple, which culminates when Louis slams Armand into the empty space, cracking the wall in the process. 

For pretty much all of his and Armand’s relationship, Louis has sought meaning through external value in a way that is distinct from but not dissimilar to Armand—through his bankable skills rather than his relationships with others, the more objective benchmarks defined by capital and financial value. The paintings and other objects he collects are not necessarily about his own enjoyment of them, but about what will generate the greatest profit (as we see in the 2.6 scene when he barges into Armand’s office with a new purchase).

After the removal of the triptych, the blank spot on the wall represents the space for Louis to write his own, individual narrative one not tied to Lestat or Armand, or a cold figuration of external value. The blank wall at first represents loss and the absence of meaning—which seems to terrify Louis at the start of the season when he’s talking about dreams—but in having the courage to face his pain and loss and move forward, Louis is able to replace it with a painting that’s meaningful to him, and arguably more important, Paul’s portrait and Claudia’s dress, which map his loves and his grief, writing their meaning and their memory forever into his narrative.

Thank you for reading!

[beardedmrbean]

TOKYO (AP) — Rice is essential to Japanese culture, tradition and politics. People take pride in the oval-shaped sticky Japonica grain, which is still a staple even though total consumption has fallen over the decades.

But since last summer, prices have soared as supplies have fallen short of demand. The government has long paid farmers to cut back on rice acreage, and change to other crops to keep rice prices relatively high.

To cope with shortfalls this year, the government has released rice reserves. But the grain has been slow to reach supermarket shelves. Anger over that was part of the reason the agriculture minister quit this week.

Consumers are frustrated and wondering where’s the rice?

Why did the farm minister resign?

Agriculture Minister Taku Eto resigned Wednesday after he raised an uproar by saying he “never had to buy rice,” because his supporters give it to him as gifts.

The remark was seen as utterly out of touch with the realities of ordinary people struggling to make ends meet and to afford rice to eat. Eto apologized, but he was obliged to step down as damage control by Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba, whose minority government faces a big challenge in a crucial national election in July.

Eto's successor is former environment minister Shinjiro Koizumi, who has taken part in reforming Japan's powerful agriculture lobby. He's been tasked with investigating and resolving the rice problem.

What's happening to rice in Japan?

Rice started disappearing from supermarket shelves, and prices surged to twice normal levels since last summer, when a warning about a possible “megaquake” triggered panic buying.

The top “Koshihikari” brand now sells for nearly 5,000 yen ($35) per 5 kilograms (11 pounds). Rice stocks at Japan Agricultural Cooperatives and other commercial wholesalers have been 400,000 tons short of last year's levels, hitting a record low 1.53 million tons as of June, farm ministry data show.

The sense of urgency over shortages has risen now that rice crops have just been planted, with harvests several months away.

Why is Japan having rice shortages and soaring prices?

Ishiba has pledged to bring the average rice price down to about 3,000 yen ($20) per 5 kilograms (11 pounds).

“We don't know why we haven’t been able to push prices lower," Ishiba said during parliamentary questioning on Wednesday when asked how exactly his government will resolve the problem. “We first will figure out exactly how much rice there is and where it is."

He acknowledged that current measures aren't working and blamed "structural problems” of the government's rice policy.

Experts say last summer's panic buying just worsened longstanding problems. A sharp rise in tourism and an increase in dining out have raised demand.

Some people started eating more rice after prices of bread and noodles rose when the Russia-Ukraine war pushed wheat prices higher. And the 2023 harvest was relatively poor because of hot weather and pests.

Japan’s rice supply chain is complicated. Most farmers still sell their rice in the traditional system run by Japan Agricultural Cooperatives, or JA, a powerful interest group with close ties to the governing Liberal Democratic Party.

But a growing share is sold through other businesses and online, making it hard to track supplies and prices, said Masayuki Kanamori, an executive of the National Federation of Agricultural Co-operative Associations, a JA umbrella organization.

The shortage caught JA by surprise, Kanamori said.

“Looking back, the current rice shortage was unforeseeable,” he said. "We are puzzled.”

What's been done so far?

The Agriculture Ministry is under fire for delaying releases of emergency rice reserves, which normally are kept for disasters, and for misjudging the demand-supply balance. So far, only 10% of the released rice stocks have reached the market, raising suspicions about what's happening.

Koizumi on Thursday announced plans to switch to voluntary government contracts for rice to better control prices and to lift a cap on the next sale.

One problem may be a lack of enough milling capacity to turn the stocks of brown rice kept in reserves into the pure white rice that Japanese prefer. But others have accused some wholesalers of hoarding rice to keep prices higher.

So far, the government has done little to investigate and resisted releasing reserves, fearing prices would fall, Kazuhito Yamashita, research director at the Canon Institute for Global Studies.

Japan could have avoided the problem by allowing more rice to be planted and exporting more if there were surpluses, he said.

“Acreage cutbacks are contrary to food security, a ruinous policy," Yamashita said. He said that the policy benefits JA by keeping small farmers afloat.

Meanwhile, farmers coping with rising costs say prices aren't too high.

Ultimately, Japan will need to figure out a long-term strategy since the average age of its farmers is 69, and the farming population has fallen by half over the past two decades to 1.1 million in 2024.

What are consumers and retailers doing to cope?

Hiromi Akaba, who lives in Kawasaki, near Tokyo, said that she had no choice but to buy rice at the current high prices. But she added: “If this continues, we will stop eating rice. This could lead to a shift away from rice consumption.”

Many stores are limiting customers to one bag of rice per visit.

Whatever the cause of the shortages, retailers must put rice on the shelves, so some are switching to imports, which usually aren't popular with finnicky Japanese shoppers.

Major supermarket chain operator Aeon Co. plans to sell U.S. grown Japonica “Calrose” rice at 600 outlets in major cities beginning next month. A 4-kilogram (nearly 9-pound) bag of Calrose will sell for 2,894 yen ($20). Aeon is buying 1.4 tons to tide it over until the autumn harvest, Aeon corporate communications official Hirokazu Satou said.

In the past, Aeon has sold Calrose blended with Japanese rice, and this will be the first time that it's selling bags of 100% Calrose, with suggestions like turning it into fried rice. The idea is to keep people eating rice, said Satou, who said he's worried they might just stop.

“We are worried that the ongoing rice shortages and soaring prices may accelerate that trend ... and we don't want it to happen,” he said.