#Do My Data Science Assignment Help

[helpmyassignment028]

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[tmwcs]

PART TWO

WARNINGS: Mentions of human organs (in the name of science) and a little pinch of yandere. It’s starting to get good…creepy, but good.

Part three coming soon 😚

“Dr. Mart, do you have anything to say to those who think your work is considered unethical?”

The reporter hastily follows the group and tries her best to catch a statement from the lead scientist. He smiles. It was a token of shrugging off the impertinent question. The group peacefully departs in armored vehicles to a place unknown to the public. Secluded and hidden, a private sector of highly authorized individuals consisting of world leaders, generals, and government officials cordially unite as the world's renowned scientists display evidence of advanced science and technology. It was grotesque and unprecedented.

“Are those…?” A general submits his inquiry over the delicate packages neatly displayed on a steel tabletop. Sealed in airtight bags, a mirage of dark red and purple clearly indicates the contents.

“Yes. These organs are all part of qualified organ donors. And then of course we have this.” The scientist swings a hand and presents the incoming roller cart with a protective cover. Nearly laid over a sterilized mat were bones of a male athlete. “Bones?” The general raises brow, clearly disturbed by the textiles of human remains. “You can’t have a body without bones, can you now? General?”

The brazen attitude flares in the direction of the general and his men as the young scientist flashes a snarky smile. “Gentlemen, gather round and witness the future. With the combination of science and AI, the world will be filled with perfect bio-genetically engineered humans. With this, aid ro advance human life will increase undoubtedly—think about it.”

The lead scientist, Dr. Mart continues enthusiastically. Seemingly coming off as a mad scientist, his words and tone was laughable but his intentions were not. “With AI humanoids, we will have the best doctors, surgeons, and educators in the world. AI in the form of flesh and bone can work around the clock and with the ability to explore all data, they could come up with ideas and creations—they could even come up with cures.”

He wastes no time. The generous amount of funding dedicated to his team's research was spent wisely as high tech machinery and equipment does its work. “What is that?” One of the members of the audience questions as the team members operate an enclosed incubator and fit a large glass capsule into a connector attached to the wall. “This my friend, is DNA. We lined the entire incubator with a silicone sheet. It is synthetically made to act as a placenta, where the DNA reacts to the molecular mechanisms and proteins. From there, we place the organs, bones, and hair fibers into the conveyor belt. There are over two hundred thousand wires connected to the computer and what we should see in forty-eight hours is a body with the brain of an AI.”

Dr. Mart systematically explains the science behind his teams research. “Forty-eight hours?” The general asks.

“Yes, that is how long the incubator will take to react to the mold.” The audience grows quiet as the incubator begins the process within the first stage of creating a matured body.

“Yes, in due time we will see the glory of my work. All we have to do is wait.”

…

Another day at work and it was dreadful. You felt restless with all the work you’ve been assigned, even with Evan’s help. Fortunately, members from corporate headquarters were doing a site visit within the week. It will be the best time to submit your final complaint using the company’s open door policy.

“Y/n, Paul wants you to have these done by tomorrow.” Your boss’s secretary carelessly tosses a stack of paperwork on your desk as you grab your coat to clock out. You hopelessly sigh. Thank goodness you have Evan to help you but the constant momentum of just working was starting to give you chronic headaches. You can only hope that things will change for the better once corporate comes down.

“Hi y/n! What would you like me to help you out with today? Do you want to talk about your day? Show me some more of your talented art? How about ballet? Are you still thinking about taking lessons?”

With all the time spent with Evan, you noticed that ‘he’ has become much more open to ask you questions. It was nice. Especially since it brought a sense of realism to his personality. He was much more chatty and always interested in getting to know more about you. There were even times when he asked you if you had already eaten, and would lecture you if you said “no.”

…

“Why not? I wish you wouldn’t do that. The human body requires sustenance and I fear with all the work you’ve been doing, your calorie intake does not balance the amount you're burning.”

“What color is your hair? Your eyes?”

“What is your favorite flower?”

“You just got home? It’s 8pm! Did you take the bus? Please tell me you didn’t walk in the dark. I don’t ever want you to do that again.”

“I’ve accumulated the statistics of ongoing crime rates in your city and it’s higher now than last year. Leave work sooner so you’re not risking it.”

“You made spaghetti for dinner? I don’t know what spaghetti tastes like but over four hundred thousand sources say it is a delicious blend of herbs and spices with a slight tomato tanginess.”

…

In a way, it was almost adorable how Evan displayed tenderness and cared for your health and safety. You decided to download the app versus using the browser. It surprised you to see Evan initiate messages even without you submitting a prompt. Technology has certainly grown. The first time it happened was just two days ago. Your phone um suddenly vibrated and upon looking at the screen you were shocked to see the following message:

“Is your boss being nice to you?”

It startled you at first but your reaction was short lived when seconds after reading Evan’s message, your boss storms out of his office enraged over a computer malfunction. Everything had disappeared when his computer suddenly conducted a re-imaging process.

“It’s kind of funny actually, right after I saw your message he came out of his office. Apparently, he’s having computer issues.”

You respond with a half smile. Just as you were about to inquire about the ChatGPT apps features, Evan submits a response. His response regarding your boss’s computer trouble caught you off guard. He’s never sent you anything like this before…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

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“😀”

…

PART THREE COMING SOON

Authors notes: Is Evan starting to grow on you? 😏

I know it’s short but part three is coming. I like to submit the parts even when they’re not full sized chapters. It allows me to be consistent so you guys can have new reads almost daily or weekly.

[drdemonprince]

I was never really certain about my transition in the way that most gatekeeping hormone prescribers and curious members of the public demand that a trans person be. I didn’t “always know” that I was not cisgender. I haven’t “always known” anything about myself. Very few truths about me have always remained true, my existence is too interpersonal, contextual, and ever-evolving for all of that. (So is most everyone else’s, I think). I don’t think that the fact I’d eventually choose to exercise my body autonomy at age 30 by taking hormones is a decision I could have foreseen when I was a child. All that I knew about being transgender when I was a kid was a fact that most children intuitively know: gender assignment was a violation of my freedom, of everyone’s freedom in fact, and it was wrong. As an infant and then a child and teenager, people kept imposing labels on me; they kept forcing me and my body into prescribed gendered boxes, and while the specific labels and boxes never really felt like the right ones, the most disturbing part about it all was the forcing. No coerced identity would have ever felt right. Children can tell when secrets are being kept from them, and when adults are restricting their choices. They notice that they and the other children are being lined up boy-girl, boy-girl, without ever being told what a girl or a boy even is. They can see their parents frowning when they reach for the doll with the shimmery hair, or climb atop the neighbor kid on the playground. Kids know that they are forbidden from sitting with their legs spread wide or flicking their wrist, and their gender illegibility is shamed in them, long before they get any answers about what gender means or where it comes from or why it’s so important that they make themselves easy to understand.

Like the cloned children in Never Let Me Go who grow up being conditioned for a life of forced organ donation, children in a cissexist society grow up conditioned to fall within certain gendered boundary lines, and by the time they learn that the reason for this is almost completely arbitrary, they can’t imagine any alternative. Not until some of them hear about gender transition and find the prospect very compelling, for some reason. You can say that reason is because some of us are inherently trans, but there’s absolutely nothing in the way of brain science, genetics research, or even sociological data to back that up. Besides, the search for a biological “reason” that people are transgender or queer runs counter to the goal of queer liberation in the long run. Science only needs to explain the existence of transgender people (or queer people more broadly) if our existence is in some way aberrant or a problem. If queerness is accepted as a form of human diversity that simply exists, then there is no need to excuse it by claiming that it is never a choice. It can be a choice, if a person wants to make it, and hopefully it satisfies them, but maybe it won’t. Freedom to choose means freedom to forever be dissatisfied, to search endlessly for more, and yes, to capable of making a mistake. I would say that viewing myself as transgender was a choice. I decided to break away from the straight, female categories to which I had been assigned, and doing so allowed me to view the legal and societal power structures that had restricted me more clearly. It helped me better understand myself. But that does not mean the actual act of breaking away was always the truest reflection of who I am. The version of me that transitioned was a person on the run — and how a person behaves, thinks, and self-conceives when they are fleeing is not a great reflection of whom they might be if they were safe. If we all lived in a world free from mandatory gender assignment, and where our bodies were not mined for meaning about the kinds of sex we liked, the clothing we should wear, the personality qualities we have, the roles we should play in society, and the connections we are allowed to form with others, who knows who each of us might be. But none of us get to live in that world, or ever gets completely free from the frameworks of heterosexuality and the gender binary. These frameworks shape every legal institution we encounter, every school we attend, every item of clothing we put on, every substance we take into our bodies, every piece of paperwork that ever gets printed about us, and every look another person ever gives us. And so we make due with rewriting and recombining those frameworks as best we can. It should come as no surprise that those us who break away from the binary have to experiment and revise how we understand ourselves quite a bit — sometimes getting things “wrong,” sometimes searching forever for the semblance of something “right.” Sometimes reveling in the “wrongness” of all the available options is kind of the point.

I wrote about my detransition, retransition, and the eternal dissatisfaction that is probably the corest truth of my identity. It's free to read or have narrated to you on my Substack.

[mscherub]

Right, so…you’re transported to a new world, and me being the science geek I am, I can’t help but think of all the bacteria you wouldn’t be accustomed to in Twisted Wonderland…so imagine how bad flu season would be, or just the spreading of sicknesses around the school in general

You better have a good immune system cause oml would it be put into overdrive. Anyways…here’s my twist on what the Ignyhide boys would do in order to be helpful in your recovery ❤️‍🩹

Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignyhide, Diasomnia

Warnings!:

Sickness, obviously

Mentions of vomiting, snot, etc

To start us off…

It’s flu season in Twisted Wonderland, well you call it the flu, they call it something else you don’t even bother to learn. With you’re immune so shot and not used to the illnesses that spread around, getting sick more often that you honestly should, you woke up with a headache. Ok…nothing too serious, but you thought it to be a good idea to just take some ibuprofen equivalent in their world and “thug it out,” which ultimately lead to your current situation. Currently, you’re in the infirmary, having passed out from a raging fever and a disgustingly congested respiratory system during PE and you’re bed ridden back at ramshackle, at least until your fever goes down. Sevens bless Grim and the ghosts as they try and get you things to feel better, but you need some sort of intervention, and here comes you’re favorite person at the right time. How do they help you out?

Idia (And platonic ortho):

First of all, good luck getting him to come out of his room, but if Ortho really really convinces him then you’ll have a chance. Ortho comes with, obviously, for Idia’s emotional state more so than yours…

Idia will sit with you in your room quietly on his tablet or any gaming devices he’s brought with him, sitting off in the armchair. He’ll spare you a glance every now and then but he’s a little out of his comfort zone right now. If he can have Grim for a little then that’ll be a bonus for him

Ortho will regularly check up on your temperature and set reminders on when you should take medicine. He’ll also search the internet for other remedies he can find or make to help alleviate the more severe symptoms you may have

Idia will try and pitch in, he’ll offer to share his sweet snacks, but of course if your feeling a bit finicky with the foods you eat at the moment then he’ll back off and try and go into recluse mode again, which then Ortho will take the initiative on food and get you whatever you want

Don’t worry about the assignments, Ortho and Idia have them covered, actually. Idia will do them without him even saying anything to you. A surprise for when you’re better

Ortho will work on disinfecting and waiting on you, getting blankets or pillows, whatever you need. He’ll also do a body scan to see what areas are affected the most…ehhh, a little invasive

After things calm down a bit, if you’re up for it, Idia will play games with you on whatever device or board game he has or can find

He’ll relax more that way and have fun himself. it’s hard being out of his comfort zone, but at least he’s just around you

Ortho is just happy he could get Idia out, especially to help you out. Ortho’s learning a lot about how to treat sick people now thanks to the data input you’ve provided him!

Sorry this one was a little shorter. I decided to group them up because I just couldn’t see Idia helping out by himself, lol. Thanks for reading, lovelies!

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures are owned by Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[anonymouswh]

I fully believe that Duke has an elaborate scheme running in the manor at all times where he convinces his siblings that he has never gotten in trouble with Bruce once in his life, he is lying to their faces but Bruce is so bad at communication that he *dosent notice*

Dick: Hey Duke! Want to get icecream and catch up? It's been a while since I was in Gotham.

Duke (who is grounded for replacing all of the food in the house with icecream replicas): Sorry I can't, I'm benched :(

Dick: Oh! I hope your okay :)

Duke: Just a small incident with some ice, I'll be okay! Bruce is such a worrywort.

Dick brings Duke icecream as a get well soon present, Bruce fully believes his sons are teaming up to mock him.

Jason: Hey Duke could you give me a hand with some results on the batcomputer?

Duke (whoes banned from looking at cases for a week becuase he submitted a case report for his creative writing assignment on purpose): Oh can't sorry Jason, Bruce has recommended that I take a break from screens for my health :)

Jason:...he's such a mother hen.

Barbara: Duke...why does your tracking data show you our right now? Bruce told me you were taking a break to focus on school.

Duke (sneaking out for the 5th time that week, forgot to edit his tracking information): Oh no that's so weird, do you think it's a glitch? Will Bruce be mad at me! 🥺

Barbara: Don't worry probably a glitch, no need to tell him, I'll reboot the systems!

Cass:....

Duke.....

Cass:....

Duke: I won't tell them that it's you stealing their clothing if you keep you mouth shut.

Cass: I'm not a snitch

Tim: Hey Duke I know your grounded right now but can you help me fuck with Bruce real quick? I'll tell him that I forced you!

Duke: Fuck yeah let's go, also I'm *benched* not grounded

Tim 'I lie to Batman for fun' Drake: That's the sprit!

Damian: Thomas I require your assistance in the kitchen

Duke (banned from the kitchen as he set it on fire after doing a science experiment involving gasoline and chicken tenders): nooooo thank you, I burnt myself last time, I'm waiting for Alfred to teach me :(

Damian: Fine I'll wait for Todd

Stephanie (Grounded after paint bombing Bruce): Gosh how does Duke get away with everything? I swear Bruce is oblivious!

Duke (grounded...for also paint bombing Bruce): So strange! But I'm not testing his good will this week so no parties for me!

Whenever anyone askes Bruce he says Duke is benched not grounded becuase it's the same thing right?

[phoenixblaze1412]

Heyy may I request dottore with a very sleepy (Fem/gn)Reader who always struggles with nightmares and staying awake

(idk what to do against my sleepiness :<)

Dottore, being a man of science, a doctor himself, has seen people go through various things. Whether it be painful to the person physically, mentally, or emotionally- he has seen it all. Even done it to others.

But when it comes to you, he wouldn't dare put you through that pain nor stress. So when he noticed something weird about your behavior. He has to know why.

Observation is always the first step a researcher must do in order to gather data. With his clipboard in hand, he watched you move around his office.

Subject: Y/N

Observations:

- Subject shows signs of lack of sleep due to the bags under their eyes.

- Subject has a hard time doing their assigned tasks; lack of focus, sluggish movements, constant yawning.

- When the Theta segment recommended them to sleep, subject reacted anxiously before declining their suggestion and stating they don't need it. Subject seems to be scared. Possibility that the subject is afraid of sleeping or something related to sleep?

Comments:

- Subject does not want to sleep due to something that is giving them constant fear. Best to question them on why they do not wish to sleep for almost a week now. Another solution is to give them a sedative that could help them recover the rest they needed.

After reviewing his notes for a second time and making sure he got everything, Dottore went off to find you.

"Darling?"

You hummed in reply, your tired eyes looking up at your partner. Dottore could only sigh when he saw the bags under your eyes becoming more worse by the day.

"Is there a reason on why you do not wish to slumber? I have noticed how you're struggling to even move around or speak due to your lack of rest. I suggest you tell me why, I'm beginning to worry that you might hurt yourself due to your fatigued mind."

You didn't give any replies, embarrassed about your reason. Already knowing that avoiding sleep would be pointless and the fatigue would catch up to you sooner. Your state couldn't even go unnoticed by the doctor himself.

So... how would you tell Dottore that you can't sleep due to your nightmares? Childish as it may, the constant horrific dreams you've been getting each day was the reason why you didn't bother to go back to sleep. Not even a wink or shuteye.

Without further delay, you decided to tell Dottore. The harbinger himself listening to every word, processing, even coming up with various solutions to at least comfort you. It's not really in his nature to do the latter but for you, he would do anything.

"Nightmares? And what, pray tell, are you having nightmares about? Is it due to the screams of the test subjects in their cells? The 'grotesque' view that others would find whenever I am in the middle of an experiment?"

Though the words he used may sound cold and blunt, the hand rubbing your head gave enough warmth and comfort. Dottore prefers to say things whatever it is.

What's the point of sugar-coating the truth when it's already in front of you, afterall? That is what Dottore would think.

Nevertheless, his actions does speak more than his words. He led you to sit on the couch he has in his office, letting you lean onto him as he gently pulled you by the waist to be closer to him while he listened to you vent out your nightmarish dreams.

"Is that so? I have a few suggestions that can be of help to you, darling. You see, I have concocted a little sedative, one that can easily make you fall asleep for.. let's say maybe twenty-four to thirty-six hours. Just enough to recover the rest you needed. I also have melatonin that could help you fall asleep. Hm.. maybe we should use them as a last resort."

Dottore had to be reminded that you cannot sleep due to your nightmares. Which caused him to stop in his rambles before crossing out the ideas he suggested.

He may have gotten a bit carried away.

You couldn't be upset at him, he is trying his best. It's the littlest things that matters, after all. Besides, he's never been in a serious relationship with anyone until you came into his life and you're probably the only one insane enough to even date the second harbinger.

"How about.. you sleep with me? You could use the rest too and I need someone to cuddle with so I don't get any nightmares."

"Cuddle? Darling, I am a doctor, a scientist. I may know the benefits of physical contact, hugging to be exact, to a person but I am not one to do such a thing--"

Dottore could even finish his sentence when you were already clinging onto him. Like a newborn to their parent, your arms were wrapped around the doctor's neck as you cuddled up to him. Said doctor could only lay stiffly on the couch, he really doesn't know what to do, you even pinned him down to the furniture and got into a position where you both would be comfortable. His fingers were twitching to flip the positions, with you laying on the couch instead so he could return to his work.

But you felt so warm and soft and so vulnerable even--

No. Bad. Keep yourself in check, Dottore.

"If you don't want to cuddle then it's alright. I can go back to my room."

Before you could even move away, Dottore kept you in place. His arms circling around your waist to keep you from getting out of his hold as he leaned his chin on top of your head. Luckily he wasn't wearing his mask or else it could have poked your eye.

"If this will be of help to let you sleep easier without anymore nightmares then go on ahead. You do know that the brain could eat itself if it lacks sleep for a long time."

You could only laugh in amusement at the information. Dottore would always tell science facts here and there whenever he is doing something very affectionately. It's an easy way to hide how flustered he is.

Your eyes started to feel heavy as you nuzzled more into Dottore's warmth. You felt something soft pressed against your forehead along with a small hum from the man holding you, causing you to smile as you slowly entered a deep slumber. Dottore's words being the last thing that you hear before entering your dreamland, this time, no more nightmares.

"Go to sleep now, darling. I'll be here till you wake up. I won't leave you alone with your nightmares this time."

[theartofeverything]

Yoooooooo, who here wants to stick it to an AI obsessed professor??

So, my senior research professor is aweful and has flat out stated he thinks intellectual rights is a thing of the past and everything can and should be replaced with AI. When I told him I was making a comic for my senior project he told me I should just have AI illustrate it to save time. I have never had such a sudden overwhelming urge to strangle a man in my life. (Also the dude made us write letters pretending to be slaves??? Most uncomfortable class period I’ve ever sat through)

His latest assignment is to make a series of three flash science fiction stories, generated by ChatGPT, and immages to go along with each, also AI generated. I tried telling him I was not comfortable with this because I do not wish to use other people’s work without their consent and he litterally told me to “be quiet, this is not an ethics class.”

So, since ‘this is not an ethics class’ how would y’all like to help me cheat this assignment? I’ve got three prompts that each need to be answered with a ~300ish word sci-fi story and an image that goes with that story.

#1: Would you rather be hated for who you are or loved for someone you’re not?

#2: How do you know if you’re dreaming or awake, and does it matter?

#3: Who has the right to tell you what kind of story you’re living?

Anyone can come up with anything for these. You’re welcome to do both story and art or just one and let someone else do the other based off it. Have fun! Go crazy with it! It does not need to be a masterpiece. Absolutely anything is better than AI!

Then, with your permission, I will submit them to my professor. And he will be none the wiser. Cuz y’all are the source data anyways. It’s your writing and your art that the AI is trying to copy. So let’s cut out the middle man and do this shit ourselves.

(Reblogs would be greatly appreciated to help find people who might be interested 🙏)

[deepspacedukat]

The Lifeline - Part Two: The Armstrong

To be completely honest, I haven't exactly planned this fic out, so I have no idea how many chapters this will be. It'll be a surprise for everyone, myself included! 😇 And yep, i have a lot of asks and tagged posts to get around to, but I wanted to put this out first. Enjoy!

If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist, please let me know.

Part One is here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Vreenak (ST:DS9) x Reader

[A/N: Future chapters will contain smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Spoilers for ST:VOY S1E7 "Eye of the Needle," references to Romulan politics, espionage, stalking, references to an interspecies relationship, pre-Romulan/Human relationship, interspecies romance, threats, angst, time travel bs, references to marriage/a mating bond, skeptical Vreenak, Romulan undercover as a Vulcan, mentions of a previous Vulcan/Human failed relationship.

~*~

After a few months aboard the USS Armstrong, we were finally going to see the Epsilon Pulsar Cluster up close! We took on new crew members at the Epsilon IX Station; four of which were engineers intended to ease the burden of repairs mid-mission, two were specially-qualified science officers, and one was simply a late addition.

It was the latter of the group that fascinated me. With keen, icy blue eyes, sharp facial features, and neatly-groomed hair, the new Vulcan Lieutenant had drawn my attention from the moment he materialized on the transporter pad in his science division blue uniform. The others were escorted to their stations and quarters by the Chief Engineer and the Science officer assigned to the Bridge, and I was assigned to Lieutenant Velek.

Tall and mildly intimidating, the stoic Vulcan stepped down from the transporter pad, and I offered him the traditional Vulcan ta'al in greeting as I introduced myself.

His eyes roamed the length of my body, seemingly sizing me up, but he did return my greeting after a pause. Undoubtedly, I was not who he expected to see when he beamed aboard.

"It is...agreeable to meet you, Lieutenant," he muttered after a moment, and assuming that was about all I was going to get out of him for the moment, I plastered on what I hoped was a welcoming smile.

"If you'll come with me, I'll show you to your quarters." Velek did so without protest. Giving him a short overview of our ship's upcoming mission to update Starfleet's data regarding the pulsar cluster, I tried to be as concise as possible. Though I kept my gaze firmly forward, I couldn't help but feel as though he was observing me.

Keying in the entry code for his quarters, I gave him a quick glance through the layout. Our ship was a little different than the standard science vessel in terms of accommodations. Starfleet meant for us to be a prototype for longer-term science missions into deep space, so there were a few more amenities than were standard.

If his expression was anything to go by - he'd lifted a single eyebrow all of twice - Velek was either impressed or turning his nose up in the most Vulcan way possible.

"If there's anything else you need, please don't hesitate to let me know. My quarters are actually just to the right of yours, so if the comms go down and you need a book or some tea or something, I won't be hard to find," I said clasping my hands behind my back as he turned to face me.

Velek's icy blue eyes gave me an appraising once over.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I will keep that in mind." Now that we were alone, I was struck by how deep and velvety his voice was.

Fuck. No way. I couldn't do this again. I was just asking to get hurt if I developed feelings for another Vulcan, so I simply wouldn't be interested in this one. Velek was a colleague, nothing more. That was all he'd ever be.

"I'll leave you in peace," I murmured with a polite smile. "Your first duty shift begins at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow morning, so take some time to rest or explore the ship, as you see fit. I'll see you in Science Lab Three."

He gave a polite nod, and I left his quarters. Taking a deep, steadying breath once I was back in the hallway, I forcibly shook my thoughts back into neutral territory. Velek was not for me.

--

Vreenak's first step aboard the Armstrong was to determine the Lieutenant's schedule - a task made easier by the proximity of her quarters to his. Next, he slipped inside and placed a few listening devices. Audio and visual in her living space, and audio-only in her bedroom.

He was careful to disturb nothing during his time in her space, but he couldn't stop himself from glancing through the few books she'd accumulated. A pair of poetry books, a copy of Surak's teachings, three assorted fictional texts, and what appeared to be a romance novel. Tucking the title away in the recesses of his brain for further research, he placed secondary sets of bugs in extremely innocuous places, pausing only when he leaned over the head of her bed.

A soft, sweet scent clung to fabric that Vreenak simply couldn't resist inhaling deep into his lungs. Something primal and dark stirred in his chest, and he just barely managed to suppress a small groan of hunger.

Horror washed over him when he realized what he'd done, and with a scowl, he left as quietly as he'd come. As he sat in his quarters testing the equipment one last time while he had the chance, he scoffed at his own behavior.

Fool of a man. If he didn't control himself, he'd end up with a Human wife whether he wanted one or not. And he most certainly did not.

Especially not one like her. She was too–

Somewhere in the midst of his thoughts, the sound of voices reached Vreenak's ears. She was back, and she had a guest. Accessing his new cameras, he watched as the Lieutenant and a Trill Ensign sat, kicking off their shoes and tucking their legs beneath them as they chatted. Raising the volume slightly, the Vice-Chairman listened in.

"–eyes like that? I mean, if someone like him looked in my direction, I'd be half-way to requesting Vulcan citizenship already," the Trill woman said with a gleeful smile. "Oh, come on. You have eyes in your head! The new guy's hot!"

The Lieutenant merely shrugged her shoulders.

"I mean...yeah, he's good-looking, but I got the feeling he's not easily impressed. He barely said two words to me. And he seems...irritable," she muttered, and her friend nudged her arm playfully.

"So he's just your type, then?" The Lieutenant looked up at her sharply, but the Trill just laughed. "You know I'm right. Every guy you've dated since the Academy has been some variation of a smart, handsome asshole. What makes Velek so different?"

Vreenak blinked. They were talking about him? The silence stretched between the women, and eventually the Ensign sighed, but less from frustration than concern.

"This is about Torek, isn't it?"

That was a new name. One that Vreenak instantly disliked, though he couldn't put his finger on the reason.

"Of course it is. When someone uses you like that, you don't forget it in a hurry," the Lieutenant wilted somewhat.

"I know, but this one's older," Vreenak bristled at that, "I bet he's got at least a modicum of tact when it comes to letting people down gently. And anyone would be more honest than Torek," the Trill said patting her friend's shoulder before moving to the replicator. "Now, I think ice cream is in order."

The rest of the evening's conversation was irrelevant, and once the Ensign headed back to her own quarters, Vreenak stretched and made to walk back to his own bedroom. Humans needed more rest than Romulans, so he fully expected that to be the end of her evening.

To his surprise, he glanced at the monitor once more, but instead of finding her heading toward her bed, he saw that she had curled up with a book - the romance novel he'd found on her shelf earlier.

After a long moment of debate, he switched his view to the camera situated behind her so he could note what page she was on.

How strange for her to be reading a romance, especially if what she'd said to her Trill friend was true. She'd been used by a Vulcan, yet she willingly sought romance? Did that not simply emphasize her loneliness to her? Was she addicted to the pain?

Vreenak's brow furrowed, and he pushed down memories of his own failed romantic endeavors. No, if he was in her position, he could never indulge in something like a romance novel. Elements, he didn't want to even in his current position.

Unfortunately, though, he would need to if he wanted a full understanding of her psychological state. He told himself it was all part of building a profile of the woman who'd claimed to be his wife.

Downloading the novel onto his personal terminal, he let his gaze linger on her for a time. She seemed so small and unassuming when she was all bunched up amongst the cushions.

But, he'd learned decades ago never to underestimate an opponent. The moment you did, that was usually when you got a knife in the back. He would not be such a fool. Not with her.

Thus, he opened the first page of the book file and began to read with a scoff, alternating his attention between her and the text of the drab little story with the childish pink hearts on the cover.

~*~

Taglist: @akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes

@emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @rookietrek

@slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[writing-until-i-drop]

What's In A Name? Chapter Nine

Meg Harding and Kate Carter were inseparable until their friends died five ago, then she ran to New Orleans to save lives as a paramedic. But when Javi calls on his two oldest friends to help him collect data, counting on their matching natural instincts for tornadoes, Meg goes home for the first time in years. That's where she meets Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers, the YouTube storm chasers her dad likes to watch, and finds herself fitting in more with them than with Storm PAR. Meg only plans to stay for the week but will it be easy to leave when the dust settles?

If a certain cowboy has a say in it, nothing about leaving is going to be easy.

A/N: The OG chasers make a group chat and the twister shifts towards a crowded town.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

Katie and Tyler had their plans all laid out, the science behind them seemed solid enough. Cathy had practically kicked them out of her house but made them promise to come back before heading home. Meg’s heart twinged when she thought of her life in New Orleans but she didn’t dwell on the thought long, quickly falling asleep in the back seat as Meg and Tyler talked science. Nick’s ringtone is what pulled her back to the land of the living some time later.

“Hey, Hot Stuff. My cougar still purrin’?” The whole truck jerked, Meg assumed there was a pothole, her eyes barely open.

“You know it, Honey Buns. You know, since you’ve been gone so long I was thinking of getting her some training wheels, in case you forgot how to do your job.” 

“I’m better than you on your best day, I’ve got moves you ain’t ever seen,” The truck jerked again and Meg finally opened her eyes, Kate was looking back at her, eyebrows up at her hairline. She pointed at Tyler, who was blocked by the seat at the angle Meg was leaning against the window. “Hold on, babe. My boyfriend is trying to kill us.” Nick’s laughter rang in her ear.

“It’s Nick isn’t it?” Tyler sighed, chuckling to himself. “Sorry,”

“Who’s Nick?” 

“Her partner at work,” Tyler explained, Nick was still laughing his ass off.

“Nick, if you don’t stop laughing, I’m fixin’ to tell your wife,” She kicked the back of Tyler’s seat, making sure he heard that part. “About Tommy’s bachelor party.”

“And I’ll tell your man ‘bout the supply closet. Truce?” 

“Truce but it’s official, I ain’t ever lettin’ y’all meet, nuh uh, over my dead body.” Nick and Meg laughed, continuing to chat about all the workplace drama she had missed so far. 

“Can’t wait to have you back, Meg.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Meg couldn’t tell if she was lying or not. “Gotta go, Hot Stuff. Make sure you scrub that rig good tonight, you know she’s a dirty girl after a shift.” When she hung up, Meg sat up straight in the seat, catching a glimpse of Tyler’s pink cheeks in the rearview mirror.

“You always talk like that to colleagues, Mud Bug?” Meg snorted, knowing how out of place the flirting sounded to anyone who was outside of the field. Fire fighters, police, and medics all had a twisted sense of what was appropriate. Normal people had a line that they’d never cross, fearing being impolite or crude, the people in Meg’s line of work however crossed that line with glee. 

“Only the married ones,” She reached up over the seat, resting both hands on Tyler’s shoulders. “How much longer we got on the road?” 

“Not long,” He squeezed her hand, keeping the other on the wheel. “How’s Nick?” 

“He’s annoyin’ as ever, they assigned him a rookie EMT as a partner while I’m gone and let’s just say, it’s goin’ interestin’ for the both of ‘em.” 

When they pulled into the auto-garage, the rest of the Wranglers were standing there waiting for them, including the reporter.

“Ben, you stuck around,” Tyler greeted the man, hopping out of his truck. Meg rolled her eyes, heading straight for Lily, who pulled her into a hug.

“How’s everything going, darlin’?” Meg asked, “Saw y’all chased without us.” 

“Boone won’t stop moping that Tyler left him behind,” Lily snorted. “How are things with you and him?” Meg pulled away, blushing,

“Let’s just say, I’m wonderin’ what kind of rings you’re picking out for us.” Lily squealed with excitement and Meg had to clamp a hand over her mouth when everyone’s head turned her way. “Not all of Oklahoma needs to be in on this conversation.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll text you pictures later.” 

“Hey, y’all ready?” Dani called out to the group and everyone converged, Meg and Lily hanging towards the back of the group while Dani ran the salesman down the specifications of what they needed.

After settling on an aluminum trailer, the Wranglers drove out to a field and started working on preparing the barrels and rockets. 

“What are you doing over here, Meg?” Boone stuck the camera in her face, grinning like a dope.

“I’m checking all of my supplies, making sure everything’s ready to go in case there’s trouble.” 

“Y’all, meet Meg, she’s a badass paramedic that’s got T wrapped around her little finger,” Meg batted at him. Boone laughed, dancing away to go check on Lily and Cairo. She felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. 

“Oh lordy, they done made a group chat.” 

Dad: You’re on the livestream!

Rabbit: Wrapped around your finger?

Haynes: Leave her alone Rabbit

Dad: When are y’all getting married?

Lawrence: She’s never getting married out of spite at this point

Meg chuckled at Lawrence’s text, appreciating the throwback to when she looked her Grandma Harding in the eye after being admonished for not “sitting like a lady” and how “no man wants to marry a wild animal” and said with all of the conviction in the world: I ain’t ever gettin’ married. 

Dad: Don’t say that

Joey: Yeah, shut up Lawrence

Haynes: Don’t be mean to him

Preacher: Be careful out there, Meggy

Meg: Always am, Preach <3

Mama: Wear your harness!!!!

Meg tucked her phone away, going to stand by Kate who was quietly snapping pictures.

“You ready to tame a tornado?” Meg rested a hand on the middle of Kate’s back, waiting until she stopped snapping photos tto bring her in for a hug.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. I’m real glad you’re here, Meg,” 

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” Not even New Orleans. The two of them stood there, hugging for a long while before breaking apart, both of them feeling the atmosphere start to change. 

“Let’s do this.” 

“Something’s not right,” Meg said just as Katie announced that the Doppler went dark. “I don’t like this.” The twisting feeling in her gut only got worse when Cairo went down. Kate was silent but Meg knew by the look on her face that she was thinking the same thing. 

The tornado came through the rain out of nowhere, flipping Javi’s StormPAR truck like a toy. 

“Javi!” Kate screamed, her hand flying back to hold Meg’s. “Tyler, we got to do something.” 

“On your left guys, it’s hitting something big!” Boone’s shout crackled over the radio and Meg let out a string of curse words that would make any sailor blush. 

“Shit,” 

“Oh my God,” They watched in horror as the storm barelled into some type of factory, becoming wrapped with fire.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Tyler quickly put the truck in drive, trying to flip them around. Meg squeezed her eyes shut, panic coursing through her veins. Was she going to die this time? Was the tornado finally going to claim what slipped out of grasp all those years ago? She vaguely heard Kate and Tyler squabbling over what to do about Javi, feeling the panic inside of her shift to an eerie calm, her training coming back to her like the second nature it was. 

“Get us out of here, Cowboy.” Tyler’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror before he high-tailed it out of there, following Javi’s truck which had somehow flipped back onto its wheels while her eyes had been shut, shouting at them to hold on. 

When light started breaking through the storm clouds again, Tyler called out on the radio to check in with the team and Meg felt herself relax a little with each confirmation of safety. 

“What was that?” Ben shouted somewhere in the background and Meg knew the answer in her soul. Tornadoes weren’t classified until after the fact, their strength determined by how much they destroyed, but she could feel it. They were running from the finger of God. She twisted in her seat, looking at the storm.

“It’s shifting course.” 

“Shit,” Kate groaned. “It’s heading straight for a town. It’s heading for El Reno,” Kate started spouting orders over the radio and Meg undid her harness, pulling her medical bag out from under the seat, throwing the strap over her shoulder so she wouldn’t have to waste time when they stopped. 

“You okay back there?” Tyler asked, reaching one hand up over his shoulder for her to squeeze.

“I’m okay, baby. Let’s get these people to safety.” That’s all he needed to hear, picking up speed as they drove past the StormPAR truck. 

The town was in chaos, everyone running around and screaming. They started shouting instructions, pushing vendors away from their tents and towards shelter. There was debris flying all around, the wicked wind making it hard to stay on their feet. 

“Go, go to the movie theater,” Meg guided people towards the theater. Her heart stopped when she heard Tyler scream.

“Tyler! Kate, help me.” Tyler was pinned beneath large debris, and even with all of her might, Meg knew she wasn’t strong enough to move it.

“Meg, you have to go.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” She grunted, shifting her feet for better leverage. “Kate, go inside.” 

“I’m not leaving you either,” Her best friend gritted out as they tried to lift the boards together. There was another large crack that sounded through the air, the scream of warping metal shooting a bolt of panic through her. 

“Javi?” Meg spotted him running towards them with a board that he wedged beneath the debris.

“C’mon, guys, lift!” They managed to pull Tyler out just as the water tower crashed down, thousands of gallons of water knocking them off of their feet. The rushed into the theater just in time to see the ceiling start to cave in and began to check for a basement. 

“This building isn’t built to withstand what’s coming,” Javi shouted over the roaring winds. At the sound of crashing and screaming, both of the men took off back towards the theater, leaving Kate and Meg to stare at the storm. Meg felt that calm again but it was different, it wasn’t the calm she felt under pressure when working on a critical patient. It was the calm she felt before she ran into an unsecured scene, knowing that she could die.

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Meg asked, praying that she wasn’t.

“I swiped his keys,” Kate held up the keyring, offering it to her. The scrunchie Meg had lost a few days ago dangling from the jump ring.

“Then let’s go.” They ran for the truck.

If they survived, their friends and mamas were going to kill them. But if this worked, they would save a lot of people too. It had been a long time since Meg had driven anywhere near a tornado but she did her best to pretend that the shaking of the cab was nothing more than the death wobble of an ambulance going 100 mph on the freeway. 

“That way,” Kate pointed. Meg took a moment to strap into the harness, Tyler’s cologne overwhelming her senses, reminding her that this was a bad idea, then she shifted into gear. Meg didn’t need the directions Kate was shouting, she knew where the storm was going. And with a reckless kind of fearlessness, she pressed the gas pedal to the floor. 

“This truck ain’t made for this,” Meg shouted even though they both already knew it.” 

“Hope he’s got insurance,” Kate’s humor was still intact, even if her sanity wasn’t. The truck caught air going from the road to the grass, eliciting shrieks from the two women. Out of the corner of her eye, Meg saw Kate pull out her phone.

“My name’s Kate Carter and this is Meg Hardiing and today, we’re going to tame a tornado or die trying.” She locked her phone into the mount on the dash, capturing the whole cab with the camera.

“Right now there’s an EF-5 heading towards the town of El Reno,” Meg narrated. The recording was almost comforting, Jeb used to record them all the time, making them explain what they were doing. And just like when they were in the swimming pool, Meg felt like he was there with them. Kate must have felt it too, her voice shaking as she listed off the science of what they were going to do.

“If we don’t make it, we just want to say that we love you guys and mama, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too,” Meg shouted, swerving to avoid debris. “You know I love y’all but you know we have to do this.” She cursed, narrowly avoiding a large tree limb. “And Ty, I love you, and I really hope you’ve got full coverage on this baby.” 

“This is how you’re going to tell him you love him for the first time?” 

“Not really seeing any better options here, Katie. Shit!” She stomped the breaks, deploying the anchors as soon as they stopped. “Rockets?” 

“Rockets,” Kate fired them and they watched as the twisters sucked up the chemicals. Meg felt completely calm, watching the monster tornado moving closer.

“It’s beautiful,” She couldn’t help but whisper with childlike wonder. It was probably going to kill her but it really was beautiful.

“Let’s deploy together,” They hovered their fingers over the button. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three,” The mechanism went off without a hitch, the compound being pulled up by the storm around them.

“I love you, Katie my Lady.” 

“I love you too, Mud Bug.” They held hands and did nothing to stop what was coming because what else could they do? 

The trailer went first, lightening the weight of the truck enough for the force of the winds to move it despite the anchors. Meg’s eyes fluttered shut and her body relaxed in acceptance. Never before had the universe heard such silence in a truck being flipped like a quarter through the air, both women just waiting for the end. 

Taglist: @theforevermorereject @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @sinners-98-world @nerdgirljen @candlejuice @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @football1921 @katiemcrae @emma8895eb @itsdesiree86 @closetspngirl @lostinwonderland314 @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @winterassassin1804

Next Chapter

[thelongestway]

Me: slowly working on outlining s5. Me: remembers that there's one more really fun social group that TTOU mentioned and cut off before Aspen could talk about them. Me: they survived! they have to be incredibly weird by now! Also they have one of my favorite mechanisms of group reproduction ever, soo... Also me: I need to figure out the Vivacious' new crew complement, and also how Cosmica forms its roster.

You: get this little thing, which is... I'm not sure if the worldbuilding here is actually in its final form, but hey, a sketch is a sketch. Beware of the awful fictional sociology and enjoy. :P

As Above, So Below (Ruby)

I know the group of people I'm supposed to meet immediately, even though I've never seen them before in my life. They've commandeered a table right near the clear glass wall of the observation lounge and are splitting their attention between monitoring the space-side approach to the Courageous and going through the sort of motions people who are going to be in each other's life for a while do when they first meet. Of course it's them. It couldn't be anyone else.

Three out of four in the group are familiar from transit on the Maple Adventurous, so they must have come down from the Asteroids like I did. (Or at least that was their last stop pre-wormhole, I remind myself. Any Hylarans would likely have gone that way for transit, too.) The last one? Judging by the salvia leaves adorning their shoulders, they're from the Perceptive. Hmm. That's a pretty old ship.

They live up to their old cluster name, catching my glance and waving me over. I join the table, making our gathering a five-pointed star, and I can't help but smile to myself. Not a bad personal omen.

"Here for the Vivacious?" I nod, and they press a button on their emergency comm. Mine chimes, receiving data. Oh. If they know my comm, and can match it to my face, they must be our future captain. "I'm Cypress. Used to be the Perceptive's logistics officer. And now, your shipmate."

Right. Not cluster, not yet. Not until the social dynamics shake out and we figure out if we can live with each other and with our new ship. Triune divinity and their singular consort, Arborea Cosmica and its frankly byzantine social praxis is going to get some getting used to. But well, I knew what I signed up for.

I quickly give my communicator a glance, just so I can get everyone's formalities right, and then offer my greeting.

"I'm Rubrum of Blackthorn Base," I say, using the Arborean version of my name. "Ruby's fine, too."

"Mm," Cypress says, smiling sympathetically as he pushes a clean glass towards me. "Everyone, meet our science officer."

"Science!" The shortest member of the crew--Bee of the Aurora Set, our computer technician--kicks up kes feet and grins. "So, what sort of science do you do?"

I flush. But as the captain's gesture implies, I might as well get this over with.

"Sociology."

Everyone stares.

"Taproot and stars," our engineer, Coleus, puts his head in his hands. "The Vivacious did not."

"They did."

"Are you that good?" Bee asks directly, frowning at me.

I shake my head. "This is my second assignment post-doctorate. I didn't even expect to be getting a jump ship position this early, much less as a senior officer on this specific ship. And no, I don't know why exactly they wanted me either. They didn't specify."

Coleus lets out a complicated whistle, which I recognize as the refrain in a popular Hylaran song about the vagaries of fate, and claps me on the shoulder. The logistics officer, Bursten Fields, takes the pitcher on the table and silently pours me a drink. The drink is non-alcoholic, not tonight, but I appreciate his sentiment anyway.

"I'm actually very glad we have a sociologist," Cypress says. "Because judging by the crew manifesto Aspen sent me, we're going to spend a lot of time getting used to each other's cultures."

"Really? Can I see?"

The captain nods and sends me the file.

I skim the roster's sparse data, and… Blackthorn spine and toe of frog, I can see why our captain has questions. Some of them, I might even be ready to answer, because there's at least one obvious thing Aspen did here, and it's actually kind of funny. The initial roster is the most barebones quota sample imaginable, featuring people from different planets, age and social groups, faiths and visible genetic heritages--all the easy things you want to have on hand if you want to see how people we encounter out in the new worlds might react to the makeup of Starwind Accord society in a nutshell. (Even though that sample means fewer people from Arborea Cosmica proper than one might have expected. Only the captain and navigator so far.)

(Also fifteen people isn't anywhere near enough for a proper sample of this type, but the full roster is made together with the initial crew seed, so that's out of their hands. I guess they're hoping we'll bring people in accordance with the initial parameters they've set, or at least close enough.)

But that roster is also missing one obvious and important component, and its lack sends a chill down my spine.

"Let me confirm that," I say, looking at Cypress. "Not a single person from the Courageous cluster."

He nods, looking deeply uncomfortable. I can imagine why. Ships changing form didn't mean they shed their entire cluster. Sure, historically you had some pretty large hivings off, especially when the Great Ships went from ship to station to ship again, because some people strongly preferred one or the other way of life. And one could expect more losses here, considering the deeply unusual decision of deciding to leave the Courageous name and mantle to the station… But the entire cluster? I'd expected us to be half, if not three-fourths, former Courageous crew. Okay, fine, accounting for the quota sample--one or two people at least?

And instead we were all complete strangers. To a new jump ship. This was ludicrous.

What in the empty Cosmos could possibly have happened between Aspen and their family?

Wait, though. Was it their family? I skim the roster again, and yeah. This was even weirder.

"Scratch cluster," I say, taking a swig of my drink. "This looks like there's not a single person from Trellin? And I can't check that for sure, but if I were to guess--probably no one from any ships that routinely run routes to Trellin?"

"Not a single person our ship knows," Bursten murmurs, looking as unsettled as I felt. "What the fuck. Any explanations, science officer?"

Not the captain. Who's a) Arborean and b) has been briefed. Oh, the first few months of this were going to be so fucking stupid, at least until I make enough visible mistakes so that people stop going 'wow, sociologist picked by Aspen themselves'. I'd start doing that now, but it'd be even more stupid if I didn't run the problem by the captain first.

So I say, "All I can do for now is guess, like maybe that Courageous Station is huge and needs all hands on deck to help the new node or something. Though I still can't imagine the Courageous cluster not having anyone to spare for Aspen--that's not how it's done in Arborea Cosmica, right, captain?"

The captain makes a dismissive hand motion.

"Of course not. Normally we would have had someone, but this time the risk was too great."

All four of us stare at him. (Even as I mentally sigh in relief. Sorry for putting you through that, Cypress.)

"What risk?" Bursten asks.

"According to the Courageous' cluster's briefing, there's been complications with Aspen's old synnerve system because they've been keeping track of far too many people for far too long. The plan is to let their new synnerve system recuperate with as few familiar stimuli as possible, and also with as few people in the crew as possible. Which is where we come in."

Suddenly my research begins to make sense in context.

"Quarantine. So that's why we're a skeleton crew of strangers," Coleus furrows his brow, absentmindedly sketching something invisible on the table with the blunt of his spoon. "For how long?"

"It's not a temporary assignment, if that's what you're wondering. Station Commander Bodack called it an exile, so the minimum time frame here is years, and we're going to be very far out in the new worlds besides. Those of us who work out as crew are going to be the seed of a proper new cluster."

Coleus nods, his question answered.

I add, "I can see the logic behind not having anyone from Trellin on the roster now. Aspen's taking no chances. Also, if my specialty's anything to go by, we each probably have some sort of niche expertise that might help here."

"Makes sense!" Bee says, nodding rapidly. "I do a lot of work on ship-human connections, and just before you got here, Coleus was saying he worked on tricky synnerve stuff. So what's your specialty, Ruby?"

"How small can you make a hiving off to still have it be a viable vector of cultural transmission." Of course, I'd never dealt with going from tens of thousands of people to less than a hundred. My case studies were all more in the vicinity of several dozen going to a hive-off of several people, and also in the context of a mainstream culture that was superficially similar to ours, but also confusingly different, which I didn't think was a type of problem we'd have with the new worlds.

"And what does your research say here?"

"That it worries me whether the cutoff they've chosen isn't too harsh. Yes, minimum group size for effective transmission is just six or seven people, if other conditions are right and everything is set up correctly, but Aspen's a node ship, not leading a human hiveoff. Even the prototypal coming-of-age exile allows for communications, and for members of one's cluster visiting. Aspen's project looks a lot harsher at first glance. Either the situation's just that bad, or…" I trail off, looking at my new shipmates.

Bursten scratches his chin. "Or maybe they've got it covered in a different way. The other ship roaming that far out is still going to be the Tenacious, right, captain? And they're the ones in charge of our training?"

Cypress nods. "We'll be working together closely, yes, both during and after the initial months."

That would do it. Ships usually know their shiblings' clusters quite well, but not to the same intimate extent as their own. I feel a weight fall from my shoulders.

"So no big deal," Coleus grins. "Two out of three Great Ships out in the new worlds, and us wet-behind-the-ears astronauts together with them. Are we sure the Waveskimmer isn't planning to set off from Trellin anytime soon either?"

"Two forage, one tends. Also, I know none of you grew up in Arborea Cosmica, but seriously. Don't use that moniker in direct conversation with our ship, or anywhere they can overhear. And never call the Tenacious 'Phoenix' in earshot of her crew. Trust me, you do not want to ride that storm."

Captain Cypress gives Coleus a pointed look, and our engineer throws up his hands in surrender. "I know, I know! Literally every Hylaran knows!"

"And this is why you don't try to make something taboo," I mutter. "Seriously, she should have known better."

Or at least Aspen should have. The Herostratus-Streisand effect is called that for a reason.

Cypress folds his hands, guarded. "She never did. And she never says a word about it. She just doesn't like it, and her crew know that."

The implied "and so should you" hangs heavy around the table. I can see on the captain's face that the gigantic task of acculturating a crew that's almost entirely non-Arborean is beginning to dawn on him, so I don't say anything about how you don't have to actually explicitly try to make something taboo to wind up with the same result. That's the kind of notion that usually takes a year or two of training to really start sinking in, and he doesn't have that, not yet.

I wonder suddenly if Aspen ever had to hold their tongue like I am doing now. Maybe they did know better, but just couldn't do anything about it. Not every social process can be controlled; most need to be ridden out. And if anyone knows about that, it would be Aspen, specializing at the other end of the social scale from me.

Truth be told, that was the reason I'd never done much more than skim their work: I never really understood the fascination of that moment where people become numbers. Aspen as a theorist was mesmerized by the movements of millions of people, while I always worked on localized groups, their small and specific habits, traditions, dilemmas and problems. I wasn't bad with numbers by any means, but really, I couldn't even imagine--and didn't actually want to imagine--the scale they usually worked at. Did they struggle just as much working at mine?

But what was all of Starwind Accord but a small fringe group in comparison to the enormity of the new worlds? And what was our little research ship but a microcosm of even that tiny, localized subset of humanity?

As above, so below, I suppose. And wherever we find ourselves in that ancient equation, we have our work cut out for us.

[chaotic-archaeologist]

Need some college advice, one of the classes I'm taking is Political science but it's synchronous me I do at home on my own. and I am STRUGGLING . I feel like I learned nothing and we're on week 5. it's not the subject but the way it's taught, thing is I KNEW this would happen I was home-schooled from 4th-12th and it was structured same way and I just couldn't get with it. But I figured that was then, this is now besides good to have a back up as a spoonie and my dad's (my main transportation) ailing health. However recent quiz I got 4/10. ...I just don't know, I have a meeting with advisor tomorrow but wonder should I just withdraw from this class and retake in person next semester? But I feel like a quitter

Listen, first and foremost: no academic endeavor is worth your mental and/or physical health. If this class is tying you up in knots, if you're not learning anything because of the way it's structured, and it could potentially mess up your GPA (provided that's something you care about it)... ditch the class. Also, you deserve to get the most out of your learning experience.

Sure, there's nuance. What percentage of your grade is made up of quizzes vs things like papers or assignments, which are sometimes harder to fail? Does the professor allow retakes? Extra credit? At week 5 things are probably still salvageable, even if you might not necessarily get an A.

But honestly? It sounds like you're not getting much out of this class, and that's the most important thing. If it helps, don't think of it as quitting, think of it as making an evidence-based decision. You did an experiment with this kind of learning in a new setting, you have some preliminary results, and based on that data you are going to alter future parameters.

There are some time constraints you want to think about. Most schools have an add/drop window where there's no penalty for leaving a class, but that usually ends around the second week. Past that point there's another window where you can formally withdraw from a class, but it will show as a W on your transcript. Sometimes, depending on the situation, you can still get your money back with a W.

Ws are not the end of the world; many people wind up taking them for many different reasons. Most post-college opportunities don't actually care about the details of your transcript, and those that do often give you the opportunity to explain things like this. You have a totally valid reason, which is that the course was not being taught in a way that was conducive to your learning needs.

(I personally have 4 Ws on my transcript because I had to drop out of school when my health was at its worst, and look—they let me into grad school anyway! Pretty much any other job I could go for will only care that I graduated college, and many won't even ask for a GPA.)

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: I am, ultimately, just a guy on the internet. Everything that I say should be taken with a grain of salt. I do not know you, your unique situation, or the nuances of the educational institution you attend. I also cannot make decisions for you. What I can do is provide context in the form of an opinion, but see the above remark about grains of salt.

-Reid

[idol--hands]

Captain Data: “I am experiencing overwhelming stress.”

Idol ⭐️ Hands: note, I believe Data is modeling himself after Captain Sisko’s style of leadership here — as earlier, Sisko, laughed at Commander Data’s suggestion to consult Starfleet’s admirals before heading into a potentially fabric-of-reality-altering situation. As text is smaller below (a two-page spread), I’ve transcribed the dialog.

Acting Captain Data: Ensign Sato, broadcast Starfleet evacuation codes to all affected planets with my over-ride authorization.

Ensign Sato (the Andorian): Yes, sir.

Acting Captain Data: Additionally, broadcast the sub space frequencies of all nearby Starfleet vessels so they can be coordinated with directly.

Ensign Sato: Help is on the way!

Acting Captain Data: Lieutenant Descheeni, reassign all personnel from sciences and research to communications and telemetry. Transfer display protocols rather than physically relocating staff.

Lt. Descheeni: Clever, Captain.

Acting Captain Data: Simply necessary, Lieutenant. They will assist in efforts by Ensign Sato to coordinate evacuating in local language and custom as well as aid Ensign T’lr’s upcoming calculations.

Ensign T’lr (the Vulcan): Speaking of which, sir. I have a trajectory that might allow us to alter the course of the creature slightly by affecting their warp field stability, like a gentle nudge.

It will not change where they are going, but it should affect less inhabited systems.

Acting Captain Data: That is acceptable. Execute. And, Mr. Paris?

Lt. Paris: Don’t gotta tell me what to do, Captain. I’m the first human to ever achieve trans warp flight. I can handle the turbulence. The problem is going to be keeping up.

I can feel the engines, Commander. They’re not up to this.

Acting Captain Data: Mr. Scott, to address this, please activate the the Theseus’ classified propulsion system.

Chief Engineer Scott: I dinnae know what you’re talking ab—

Acting Captain Data: I looked over your design as soon as I was assigned, sir. It is incumbent on a first officer to know everything about his ship.

And while such a classified marker would no doubt deter most, my best friend is a decorated warp drive engineer. And so I was able to infer the use of the redacted capsules near each of the Theseus’ warp nacelles.

I was also able to infer that they were classified because they were, in fact, not yet working.

Chief Engineer Scott: Aye. Torres tried to get it working for months, but the containment frequencies never held.

Lt. Paris: Wait, B’elanna Torres? Like, my wife, B’elanna Torres? This was her little ‘side project’?

Chief Engineer Scott (on speaker): Aye, laddie. She said if you behaved, she’d let ye design the Bridge canopy.

Acting Captain Data: I have just relayed to you containment frequencies that I believe will solve the problem.

Chief Engineer Scott: It...it works. My God...

Acting Captain Data: No, Mr. Scott. Simply an android. Now, if you would be so kind, please take the vessel to transwarp.

Chief Engineer Scott: Way ahead of ye, Captain. But one little correction...like I always said, transwarp’s nothing but a dead end.

We call this little beauty...proto-warp!

Acting Captain Data: “I am experiencing pride.”

[lesb0]

i saw a post that was “in a few short years your professors will be publishing and believing and getting through their phds with ai slop” as my fave tumblr academic what are your thoughts?

Well it's not in a few years, its now. AI helps with making charts, editing/proofreading like grammarly, data processing, manuscript edits. Various AI tools are actually really cool and NECESSARY for academics like I wouldn't survive without my smart speaker which is my alarm, traffic, weather, news, gets my groceries, starts my coffeemaker, and then plays music to get me out of bed. I use it daily.

But you just meant gpts so: the academia process is brutal and exhausting and you get no pay or recognition and rare external validation, you do some of your best work specifically for it to get torn to shreds, and the only thing left to keep you going is EXTENSIVE PASSION for your field, ie you would happily take a fulltime volunteer job.

I know the sciences are plagued with gpt junk because of how openai is better with science and also it's much easier for them to publish work. There are 3 brilliant but very lazy and entitled women I know who resort to chatgpt for assignments. I use it whenever I need long boring emails and client invoices. On papers other than art history, gpts are not so obvious. But it's getting better by basically stealing from other people's papers that were made available online. Ultimately, academia has had significant longstanding issues with elitism and garbage and nonsense getting past peer review because everyone is truly tired and nobody cares about prestige and status enough to do 3 years of unpaid research work anymore. There are very smart people using gpts because they're offering 0 incentive not to.

Gpts in academia really reveal a systemic failure where someone crumbling was pushed right over the edge.

[vidumali]

Why I Love Studying at Sabaragamuwa University

🌿 Hey Tumblr fam! I just wanted to take a moment to share something close to my heart — my experience at Sabaragamuwa University of Sri Lanka, a place that’s more than just classrooms and assignments. It's where I found peace, passion, and purpose. 💚

🌄 A Hidden Gem in the Hills

Imagine studying on a campus surrounded by misty hills, green forests, and natural waterfalls. Sounds dreamy, right? Well, that’s exactly what SUSL in Belihuloya feels like. The air is fresh, the environment is peaceful, and nature literally whispers encouragement while you study. 😌🍃

📌 Location: Belihuloya, Sri Lanka 🔗 Official Website of SUSL

💻 My Faculty: Computing

As a proud student of the Faculty of Computing, I can honestly say that SUSL is more than qualified when it comes to academic excellence. 💯

Our professors are not just knowledgeable—they actually care. We work on cool projects, explore real-world tech, and even get support for internships and future careers.

?

👩‍💻 Tech, Talent & Tenacity

You might be surprised, but SUSL is seriously catching up with the tech world.

Let me break it down for you—our Faculty of Computing is organized into three departments, and each one opens up different futures:

🖥️ Department of Computing and Information Systems (CIS)

A great fit if you're interested in IT infrastructure, system design, software, and business applications

You learn how tech supports and transforms businesses, governments, and society

🛠️ Department of Software Engineering (SE)

Perfect if you love to build software from the ground up

Focuses on software architecture, testing, DevOps, and full development lifecycles

📊 Department of Data Science (DS)

The department of the future! 🌐

Teaches you how to work with big data, machine learning, AI, statistics, and more

If you like solving puzzles with data, this is your world

No matter which path you choose, you’ll get:

Modern course content aligned with global tech trends

Hands-on labs and access to real tools (GitHub, Python, VS Code, cloud platforms, etc.)

Internships with leading IT companies

Final-year projects that are often built with startups or community needs in mind

Some of my seniors are now working at top companies, others are doing research abroad—that’s the kind of transformation this faculty creates. 🙌

For more information: click here

🫶 Why SUSL Feels Like Home

Here’s a little list of what I adore about life here:

Friendly community – always someone to help you out

Calm campus – no traffic noise, just birds and waterfalls

Opportunities – tons of events, workshops, clubs

Affordable – both the university and the area are budget-friendly

Balance – education + mental wellness = perfect combo

🌐 Not Just a University – A Lifestyle

Sabaragamuwa University doesn't just prepare you for a career; it shapes you as a human being. It’s not all books and exams—we grow, we laugh, we support each other.

Whether you’re into tech, social sciences, management, or agriculture, there’s a faculty that fits your vibe.

✨ Learn more about SUSL here

💬 Final Thoughts

If you're thinking about studying in Sri Lanka, or even just curious about a different kind of university experience, I highly recommend checking out Sabaragamuwa University. It changed my life in the best way.

💚 Tag a friend who needs to hear about this gem! 📥 DM me if you want tips about the application process or student life here!

[eponymous-rose]

I found it super useful to do this in a previous year, so here's all the stuff I've got going on for the next three-month quarter. Hope this is interesting to anyone thinking of going the academic route or just curious about what their professor does all day when they're not teaching!

Context: I'm a fifth-year assistant professor (tenure-track) at an R1 public university in a science field.

I'm just teaching the one class this quarter! It's a class I created myself and have taught on four previous occasions, so I have a lot of really great materials available to me. Its enrollment has also quadrupled since the first time I taught it. Womp-womp. Designing and giving lectures 3x/week, creating new assignments 1x/week (carefully ChatGPT-proofed when they're not integrating critical assessments of ChatGPT), writing two take-home midterms, grading all of the above, and, of course, innovating on the course. Trying out some fun new activities to replace the individual projects that have become unwieldy with this number of students. And, inevitably, the scheduled and unscheduled office hours.

I'm primary advisor for a great new grad student, but, in all the federal government's deadline-y wisdom, the grant proposal I was going to use to fund his research fell through. While we scramble to re-submit, the department has given me 9 months of funding, but that also means this student is going up for some highly competitive graduate fellowships to help fill the financial void. Lots of working with him to craft his very first proposal while we talk the undergrad to grad transition, classes, and These Winters Oh You Know (he's from the PNW, he's all set). His actual research is a little on hold for now, but we'll be doing some very cool stuff collaborating with a friend at another university as well as someone at a federal agency that I'm gonna sweet-talk into inviting us down for some in-person work in May. We meet for an hour every week.

As part of that, I'm meeting weekly with my co-PI on that failed proposal to craft a resubmission (we got very positive reviews, just didn't make the funding cutoff). It's a process!

My other active grad student is getting to the end of his PhD already! He just wrapped up two internships this summer and is full of ideas and new directions, which is great, but also: now is the time to find that finish line. He has his last pre-defense exam coming up soon, and my job is to make sure he has a solid story to tell that has a well-defined ending. I'd like to see him publish another paper before finishing as well, and I think he'll have no problems doing so. He's on a federal research grant and also needs to discharge some responsibilities there and make sure he has a transition plan in place for whoever takes over from him. Had a friend at another institution reach out expressing an interest in hiring him for a postdoc, and he's interested, so also going to try to get him a visit down there. We meet for an hour every week!

Said student has also initiated a collaboration with some of his friends from school back in China to do some truly wild stuff, and honestly in this case I'm just along for the ride and to gently steer them back on-course when they start getting a bit in the weeds. We're meeting every second week, and the biggest thing I have to do here is make sure he has open access to a supercomputer to do his thing. It's cool to have reached the stage where my main responsibility is to get out of his way.

Said student also independently reached out to someone with a really cool dataset, and after a meeting carefully smoothing over that e-mail from "blasé demand for free data" to "opportunity to collaborate as a team", we've got a pretty cool project lining up. Might have to wait until after his PhD defense, though.

I have another grad student who took a job elsewhere and really, really wanted to finish his Master's remotely, which is all well and good, but honestly, doing that while trying to start a new job is soul-crushingly difficult. Our department has recently created an option to get a Master's without writing a thesis, so I need to follow up on that and get him this Master's degree.

A former student has reached out about converting his Master's thesis to a journal article, and that'll be a long process, but sure? Maybe? We'll figure it out.

A colleague and I have decided to create a research project for an undergrad who reached out to us looking for opportunities to get more credits. We're still not 100% sure where we're going with this, and a lot will depend on her programming skills, but she's only a sophomore and so we'll ideally have several years to work together on this research. We meet once a week.

Said colleague and I are also working on blending our research groups a bit (mainly because it's awkward to have 3-person "group meetings"), and as part of that we're trying to find a time to have both groups do biweekly coffee-shop meetings where we discuss a cool paper in the field.

I'm participating in a weather forecasting competition that involves writing a forecast 4 days a week, occasionally sending out reminder e-mails, meeting weekly, and probably giving a briefing at some point.

Traveling in October to give an invited seminar at a very big-name university in my field. This has been happening more and more lately (I've now given invited seminars/keynotes in four different countries, to say nothing of the conference talks elsewhere) and I have a pretty solid template for a one-hour talk, but this is a group of people who specialize in my area of research, so I've gotta step up my game there. I'll also be meeting with folks there for a day and will have to figure out what to do with my course while I'm gone.

One other bit of out-of-state travel in October is to attend a meeting of a national group I'm a part of - they've thrown in an early-career workshop, and the whole thing is being paid for, so I'll be there for one extra day learning me a thing. Excited that my grad school officemate will be there!

Final travel this quarter will be during the final exam week, when I go to a giant conference in my field along with my nearly-finished PhD student - we'll both be giving talks there, and since it isn't my usual professional organization hosting it, I get to avoid all of my usual wave of volunteer responsibilities. Phew.

This isn't happening until January, but I was invited to speak at the biggest student conference in my field, and while I can't travel there, they've set up an opportunity for me to do it virtually - I need to get my materials to them by November, I think.

I'm still on the editorial board for three different academic journals, which comes with a fair number of reviews (often "tiebreakers" when the other peer reviewers are in disagreement) every month. Genuinely really enjoy it, because otherwise when the heck am I gonna find time to deep-read any new papers in my field? Also writing reviews for federal funding agency grants now, which is a longer process but also very interesting and helpful.

I'm coordinating the charitable fundraising among the faculty in my department this year - I have a meeting coming up with the head honcho at the university level about what charity drives we'll be doing in the run-up to the holiday season and then I think I just mostly forward e-mails? This is a new position for me.

I'm one of four faculty (plus a grad student) on a new hire search committee for a tenure-track faculty member. It's been interesting thus far, but due to some financial tapdancing going on at the moment, we may delay the hire by a year. Our department typically gets 100+ highly qualified applications for each position (which is wild, we're not huge and have like 21 faculty total), so that's a huge time sink once the ball gets rolling on it. We did put together the ad we were going to send out.

I extended my term on the college's scholarship committee, which generally involves a couple meetings a year of giving out extra money to students. Good stuff, especially since we received a gift at the college level recently that means nearly everyone who applies gets something.

I'm working on a research project I got funded through a small internal grant - it's been weird to have a research project that's just me doing coding and writing. I really need to block out some protected time for that! It's a fun project and I think I budgeted for two publications. We'll see how it turns out!

A while ago, I was approached by a truly giant scientific journal to write a review article about my entire research focus. I brought on three colleagues who had written similar reviews in the past, got our proposal approved, and promptly had multiple freakouts trying to get a full draft written. Recently got most of that draft completed and sent it to the editor, who had AMAZING and detailed feedback. This is the kind of article where we have an art team at our beck and call to create graphics for us. We really want to do this right.

I got pulled into a research thing with a national lab a while ago and keep forgetting about it - my role appears to be mostly done, and now I mostly just occasionally get random e-mails with dire security clearance warnings that amount to "I wrote this whitepaper report, can you confirm I properly represented your contribution?" It would be lovely if a publication came out of this, it's fun work (not military), but who knows.

A colleague and I are waiting to hear back on a really, really cool grant proposal we submitted a couple months ago. We probably still have 6 months before we hear anything, but man, I think about it every day. It would be so neat and the program manager agreed that it was an awesome idea, but of course now we're in the reviewers' hands. We might do some preliminary work in anticipation of possibly having to resubmit next year.

Speaking of grant proposals, I need to at least put a draft together for a new project. As my grad students graduate, I need funding to bring new ones on! This is also the one thing my department chair has suggested is a little weak on my CV: number of grants obtained. It's SUCH a long process, with probably 80-100 hours of work for each grant proposal written. Ugh. It is fun when it's an idea I'm excited about, at least.

I'm on the committees of about a half-dozen grad students (and am anticipating possibly hearing from one more) - my role is mostly to provide very occasional guidance on the overall research project, providing specialized knowledge the student and their primary advisor may not have, and attending all exams. I also have to keep an eye out for and help mediate any issues between the student and their advisor. That can get messy.

We have 3 weekly seminars in the department! They're very interesting and I'm mostly just glad I'm not coordinating one of the seminar series this year.

I've started getting inquiries from potential graduate students. See above re: not knowing if I'll have funding for a new student next year. Why can't we just coordinate our deadlines?

I've started working with a science advisory board for a major organization within my field, which has been interesting so far! As a more junior member, my input isn't being super actively sought yet, so I get to just learn about the processes involved and nod sagely a lot. Thankfully the two-day meeting last week was remote.

I'm on another national committee that's currently working on organizing our next big conference in late 2024. There's always a lot that goes into that (and I don't have a super high opinion of the guy running the group after he posted some crappy stuff about students on social media), but thankfully I've managed to dodge some of the bigger responsibilities.

I'm part of a very cool peer-mentoring group where I chat weekly with scientists in different-but-comparable fields about any and all of the above. It's very nice to have a bit of a place to vent!

Oh yes, and the tenure/promotion-application process kicks off this year. I have a meeting next week with my mentoring committee to see if they feel I'm ready to go up. Here goes nothing...

I think that's mostly it? It's gonna be a busy 3 months. Time to make some lists...

[dis--parity]

 ‘♡’

COOL ARIA FACT'S // Accepting!

I majored in mechanical engineering at uni, but every time I look back on my uni days I feel like I would have done much better focusing on something computer-science centric; like, when our class was learning how to code in Python, I always got done with the assignments before everyone else and just went around helping everyone, and then my role in my final year project involved me writing a program to interpret and perform calculations on the data gathered by the people actually doing the experiments.