#Seeing the Cygnus Loop in a New Way

[michaelgabrill]

Seeing the Cygnus Loop in a New Way

The Cygnus Loop, also known as the Veil Nebula, is a supernova remnant – the remains of the explosive death of a massive star. Studying images like these leads to discovery, but NASA’s Chandra X-ray Observatory provides another way to experience this data: three-dimensional (3D) models that allow people to explore – and print – […] from NASA https://ift.tt/5Dz39xV

[thankchaosforspellcheck]

EVEN MORE Loopoke thoughts:

I have landed on "Cyris Rosencrantz" as the full name for Loop. the first name is a Polish name meaning "sun" and visually similar to Cygnus, a constellation in the Milky Way. It's also short but nickname-able, and not too fancy. The last name is there bc Loop needed both to get citizenship in the grove without bringing up too many questions.

Setting, after much thought on timeline weirdness (since GGG is like. 1970s-ish and ISAT is, at minimum, pre-electricity), is post-2-hats-ending where Loop comes back to their own Vaugarde only to find the entire country frozen.

At a loss of what to do, they leave to try and either find their way back to their home country or reverse the King's curse.

Instead, they discover that even though Vaugarde is fozen, the rest of the world was chugging along just fine. It's been at least a few centuries since the events of SASASAAP and, in the spot where their old country once lay, now stands The Grove.

They have a bit of a breakdown over this, but once that passes they decide to see if this new location has any information they can use.

They don't take a direct path there, making a pitstop at Mwudu for supplies, & while there they discover that:

a) they can't talk

b) the star look freaks people out

c) there's a new God of Communication named King (irony!) & their followers dress heavily & rarely talk (something about being messengers & wanting to avoid putting words in another's mouth?)

So, clearly this is the way to go!

(...besides. they could use a god that actively encourages their followers to talk to them.)

Of course, the events of the game play out as normal (with a minimal amount of Timecraft from Cyris) but after... I mean King just went through so much already, and everyone else is still recovering... maybe they should wait a few days? it's not like their family's going anywhere.

Fortunately for Cyris (& unfortunately for their self loathing and crippling guilt) you can't hide anything from The Bizzyboys for long! (or the Gods for that matter, since they're invested in helping the little dude that got them out of so much trouble),

[spacenutspod]

5 min read NASA Rocket to See Sizzling Edge of Star-Forming Supernova A new sounding rocket mission is headed to space to understand how explosive stellar deaths lay the groundwork for new star systems. The Integral Field Ultraviolet Spectroscopic Experiment, or INFUSE, sounding rocket mission, will launch from the White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico on Oct. 29, 2023, at 9:35 p.m. MDT. For a few months each year, the constellation Cygnus (Latin for “swan”) swoops through the northern hemisphere’s night sky. Just above its wing is a favorite target for backyard astronomers and professional scientists alike: the Cygnus Loop, also known as the Veil Nebula. This image shows an illustration of the constellation Cygnus, Latin for “swan,” in the night sky. The Cygnus Loop supernova remnant, also known as the Veil Nebula, is located near one of the swan’s wings, outlined here in a rectangular box. NASA The Cygnus Loop is the remnant of a star that was once 20 times the size of our Sun. Some 20,000 years ago, that star collapsed under its own gravity and erupted into a supernova. Even from 2,600 light-years away, astronomers estimate the flash of light would have been bright enough to see from Earth during the day. This image taken by NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope shows part of the Veil Nebula or Cygnus Loop. To create this colorful image, observations were taken by Hubble’s Wide Field Camera 3 instrument using five different filters. New post-processing methods have further enhanced details of emissions from doubly ionized oxygen (shown here in shades of blue), ionized hydrogen, and ionized nitrogen (shown here in shades of red). ESA/Hubble & NASA, Z. Levay Supernovae are part of a great life cycle. They spray heavy metals forged in a star’s core into the clouds of surrounding dust and gas. They are the source of all chemical elements in our universe heavier than iron, including those that make up our own bodies. From the churned-up clouds and star stuff left in their wake, gases and dust from supernovae gradually clump together to form planets, stars, and new star systems. “Supernovae like the one that created the Cygnus Loop have a huge impact on how galaxies form,” said Brian Fleming, a research professor at the University of Colorado Boulder and principal investigator for the INFUSE mission. The Cygnus Loop provides a rare look at a supernova blast still in progress. Already over 120 light-years across, the massive cloud is still expanding today at approximately 930,000 miles per hour (about 1.5 million kilometers per hour). What our telescopes capture from the Cygnus Loop is not the supernova blast itself. Instead, we see the dust and gas superheated by the shock front, which glows as it cools back down. “INFUSE will observe how the supernova dumps energy into the Milky Way by catching light given off just as the blast wave crashes into pockets of cold gas floating around the galaxy,” Fleming said. To see that shock front at its sizzling edge, Fleming and his team have developed a telescope that measures far-ultraviolet light – a kind of light too energetic for our eyes to see. This light reveals gas at temperatures between 90,000 and 540,000 degrees Fahrenheit (about 50,000 to 300,000 degrees Celsius) that is still sizzling after impact. INFUSE is an integral field spectrograph, the first instrument of its kind to fly to space. The instrument combines the strengths of two ways of studying light: imaging and spectroscopy. Your typical telescopes have cameras that excel at creating images – showing where light is coming from, faithfully revealing its spatial arrangement. But telescopes don’t separate light into different wavelengths or “colors” – instead, all of the different wavelengths overlap one another in the resulting image. Spectroscopy, on the other hand, takes a single beam of light and separates it into its component wavelengths or spectrum, much as a prism separates light into a rainbow. This procedure reveals all kinds of information about what the light source is made of, its temperature, and how it is moving. But spectroscopy can only look at a single sliver of light at a time. It’s like looking at the night sky through a narrow keyhole. The INFUSE instrument captures an image and then “slices” it up, lining up the slices into one giant “keyhole.” The spectrometer can then spread each of the slices into its spectrum. This data can be reassembled into a 3-dimensional image that scientists call a “data cube” – like a stack of images where each layer reveals a specific wavelength of light. PhD student Emily Witt installs the delicate image slicer – the core optical technology for INFUSE – onto its mount in a CU-LASP clean room ahead of integration into the payload. CU Boulder LASP/Brian Fleming Using the data from INFUSE, Fleming and his team will not only identify specific elements and their temperatures, but they’ll also see where those different elements lie along the shock front. “It’s a very exciting project to be a part of,” said lead graduate student Emily Witt, also at CU Boulder, who led most of the assembly and testing of INFUSE and will lead the data analysis. “With these first-of-their-kind measurements, we will better understand how these elements from the supernova mix with the environment around them. It’s a big step toward understanding how material from supernovas becomes part of planets like Earth and even people like us.” To get to space, the INFUSE payload will fly aboard a sounding rocket. These nimble, crewless rockets launch into space for a few minutes of data collection before falling back to the ground. The INFUSE payload will fly aboard a two-stage Black Brant 9 sounding rocket, aiming for a peak altitude of about 150 miles (240 kilometers), where it will make its observations, before parachuting back to the ground to be recovered. The team hopes to upgrade the instrument and launch again. In fact, parts of the INFUSE rocket are themselves repurposed from the DEUCE mission, which launched from Australia in 2022. NASA’s Sounding Rocket Program is conducted at the agency’s Wallops Flight Facility at Wallops Island, Virginia, which is managed by NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland. NASA’s Heliophysics Division manages the sounding rocket program for the agency. The development of the INFUSE payload was supported by NASA’s Astrophysics Division.

[fruitcoops]

Would love to see a wired autocomplete interview with coops! 🥰

Anon, did you read my mind? These two have such chaotic energy when they’re given an outlet and it was a true pleasure to write it. Dorcas is exhausted. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Wait, I want to pull the tab,” Remus said, tugging on the edge of the cardboard lightly as Sirius tried to hold it out of his reach without falling off his chair.

“I get to read it out loud for you and then we switch!” Sirius protested, smacking him gently on the head with it. The resulting bonk noise made them both break down laughing.

“You guys know we’re rolling, right?” Dorcas asked as she gathered a stack of cards in her lap, looking highly amused.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She turned to the camera with a bright smile. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, hockey fans! I’m Dorcas Meadowes and I’m here today with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to answer some of the internet’s most pressing questions. How are you two feeling?”

“Terrified,” Sirius said.

“The internet is like the Twilight Zone,” Remus agreed. “Who goes first?”

“Sirius, you’ve got a card already. Take it away.”

He cleared his throat and grabbed the edge of the first pull tab, ripping it off slowly. “That is so satisfying, woah. How tall is Remus Lupin?”

“I am five foot eleven and a half.”

“That half inch comes from your sneakers and you know it.”

“It does not!”

Sirius just smiled and removed the next paper slip. “What language does Remus Lupin speak?”

“I speak English and a little bit of French. Tried to learn Spanish in high school, but failed miserably.”

“I love the wording on this one,” Sirius said as he turned the board toward the camera. “Remus Lupin Green Bay Packers.”

“Dammit, now everyone knows my full name,” Remus sighed. “Uh, the Packers are cool.”

“I think people were wondering if you ever played on the team,” Dorcas said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a football player to you?”

“Next question!” Sirius ripped the tab off and took a good section of the paper above with it. There was a beat of stunned silence. “I am…so sorry.”

Behind the camera, Marlene burst out laughing, along with most of the camera crew. “It’s fine, keep reading.”

“Okay, um…” Sirius squinted at the partially torn-off question. “Remus Lupin name meaning.”

Remus groaned. “I hate this question. Yes, it does mean Wolf Wolf. Yes, my dad’s name also means Wolf Wolf. Yes, my mother’s maiden name is Howell. I’m aware of the endless puns.”

“Don’t you mean a-were?” Sirius asked as a slow grin spread across his face. Remus grabbed the card and bonked him over the head with it.

“Remus, your turn.” Dorcas handed him a poster board and took the blank one.

“I’m going to be careful with this one, unlike somebody,” he teased, kissing Sirius on the cheek. “Is Sirius Black…related to Pascal Dumais?”

“In all the ways that matter, yes.”

Remus grinned when he read the next one. “Is Sirius Black missing a tooth?”

“No!” Sirius gave the camera an offended look. “I have all my teeth, thank you very much.”

“Is Sirius Black mean?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Reporters don’t like you very much.”

“The feeling is mutual. I love the fans though, most of them are so sweet.”

“Oh, I like this one. Is Sirius Black married?” Remus rested his chin on the top of the card and batted his eyelashes, making Sirius laugh.

“Almost! Ask me again in July.” Remus set the card on the floor and Dorcas passed Sirius a new one. “Does Remus Lupin wear glasses?”

“Nope.”

“Does Remus Lupin—I have never said your name so many times in one sitting, my god—does Remus Lupin have siblings?”

“Yup.”

“Does Remus Lupin—”

“Can you elaborate?” Dorcas asked with a laugh. “How many siblings? Names? Ages?”

Remus turned to the camera. “I have one brother named Julian and he’s ten years old. He likes piggyback rides, ice cream, and hockey.”

“Much better. Take it away, Cap.”

“Does Remus Lupin have allergies?”

Remus frowned in confusion. “Why do people want to know that? Uh, yeah, I’m allergic to some pollens. Spring is hell.”

“How many of these do we have?” Sirius asked as he tossed the board over his shoulder and crossed his legs.

“Quite a few! Loops, you’re up.”

“Where is Sirius Black from?”

“Canada.”

“Where does Sirius Black live?”

“The Lions ice rink. I set up a tent in the middle of the goal posts every night so that I’m never late to practice.”

“Sirius Black gay.”

Sirius paused. “I think we’re missing a couple words in there.”

“That’s literally all it says,” Remus laughed, moving it to show him. “Sirius Black gay. I don’t know, honey, Sirius Black gay?”

“Sirius Black very gay,” he confirmed. “Sirius Black thinks people need to have better grammar.”

“Is Sirius Black’s hair naturally curly?”

“No, I use a curling iron every morning to do each individual curl,” he said. “It takes me seven hours and thirteen minutes, and I use a full can of hairspray.”

Remus scooted over so Dorcas could hand him a new card. “He keeps a stopwatch and tries to beat his personal record every time.”

Sirius pulled the first tab away and immediately started laughing too hard to speak.

“What does it say? You can’t just leave me hanging!” Sirius turned the board around and Remus leaned down to read it. “Is Remus Lupin hockey? Yes. I am the entire sport of hockey condensed into one being. I’m coming for basketball next. Thanks for asking!”

It took a few seconds for Sirius to get his breath back. “What is Remus Lupin—”

“I thought we just answered that.”

“—what is Remus Lupin zodiac sign?”

Remus paused. “Is that the thing Pots was talking about the other day? With the quiz?”

“That was love languages.”

“Your zodiac sign depends on your birthday,” Marlene called. “When were you born?”

“March 10th.”

“You’re a Pisces.”

“I’m a Pisces!” he said brightly to the camera. “No idea what that means, but it sounds cool.”

“It means you’re two fish.” She laughed as Remus sucked his cheeks in for a fish face. “Very nice.”

“Thank you.”

Sirius was especially careful as he pulled the paper slip off the next question. “What is Remus Lupin first job?”

“The grammar of these questions is killing me. Um, I worked in the university bookstore during college.”

“On the list of ‘things that don’t surprise anyone’,” Dorcas joked.

“Did Remus Lupin go to college?”

Remus gave the camera a look. “First of all, I have a medical degree. Second of all, did people completely forget about the whole ‘about to be drafted right out of college’ thing? It was a grand total of four years ago! Google it!”

“That’s what they did,” Sirius pointed out, gesturing to the board.

“True.”

“Last one for this card: how old is Remus Lupin?”

Remus thought for a moment. “Y’know, I kind of lost track after the first few centuries. My turn…what is Sirius Black real name?”

Sirius glanced at the camera. “It’s Sirius Black? Is this a trick question?”

“There are people out there who think that’s a fake name,” Dorcas said.

“Um, okay. Yeah, my real name is Sirius Black, my brother is Regulus, my dad is Orion, and I have cousins named Andromeda and Bellatrix.”

“What’s your uncle’s name again?” Remus asked.

“Which one? Cygnus? Phineas Nigellus? Arcturus?” At Dorcas’ surprised look, he laughed. “Oh, I could go all day long with this. That’s the tea on old French families with weird-ass naming traditions.”

“This next one is similar: Sirius Black middle name?”

“Orion.”

“Fun fact: the first time I saw your full name, Moody had written it and I thought it said ‘onion’.” Remus laughed as Sirius’ jaw fell open. “Those three seconds were a highlight of my life. Alright, what’s next…what color are Sirius Black’s eyes?”

“Blue.”

Remus shook his head. “They’re gray, almost silver.”

“Basically blue.”

“There’s nothing basic about you, babe.” Remus slid the board onto the floor and passed Sirius a new one. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Is Remus Lupin Canadian?”

“I wish.”

“Is Remus Lupin left-handed?”

“No, but a lot of people seem to think that I am.”

“Is—” Sirius cut off with a snort. “Is Remus Lupin scrappy?”

“Are you fucking with me?” Remus asked, leaning over. “Is that actually what it says?”

“Yep.”

“Scrappy? Really?” He shook his head, lost for words. “I mean, I guess. Nobody’s ever called me scrappy before.”

“I don’t like this last one. How much is Remus Lupin worth?” Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple. “You’re priceless.”

“I’m worth at least half a PB & J, but only if you use the good peanut butter. If you use the shitty Skippy stuff, hand over the whole sandwich. My turn! Does Sirius Black have piercings?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Does Sirius Black have an Instagram?”

“I do. Sblack12, if you want to see pictures of my friends’ kids and this cutie.”

“Is Sirius Black Australian?”

“Fuck off. I’m French Canadian, how the hell did anyone think I was Australian?”

“Sirius Black birthday.”

“I have one.”

“What is it?” Marlene asked. “I’ll tell you your zodiac sign.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “November 3rd.”

“Scorpio bitch.”

“Hey!”

“On the bright side, Scorpios and Pisces are super compatible.”

“What a relief, I was really banking on our astrology compatibility,” Remus said drily.

Dorcas handed Sirius a fresh board. “First up: can Remus Lupin sing?”

“Eh.”

“The correct answer is yes. What is Remus Lupin like in real life?”

“I’m horrible. I kick every puppy I see and carry one of those sticky hands from arcades to steal candy from children.” A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth and Sirius’ cheeks turned pink from suppressing his laughter. “Like Spiderman, but evil.”

“What happened to Remus Lupin after college?”

“What didn’t happen to Remus Lupin after college?” he laughed, leaning back in his seat. “These past couple years have been bonkers fucking yonkers. I became a PT, got a secret boyfriend, and now I’m engaged and an NHL player. There were, like, three seasons of character development squished into eighteen months.”

“Alright, last one. Why Remus Lupin kissed Sirius Black?”

“Because he’s hot and nice. Also, because he’s my fiancé.”

“Is that the criteria for kisses?” Sirius asked. “I just have to be hot and nice?”

“Pretty much. You’ve got both boxes permanently checked.”

“Final card,” Dorcas warned as she handed it to him. “Make it count.”

Remus cleared his throat. “How does Sirius Black work out?”

“I rollerskate and hula hoop for six hours a day simultaneously.”

“How old is Sirius Black?”

“Ageless.”

“How did Sirius Black meet Remus Lupin?”

“Fun story, actually. You know the movie Ocean’s Eleven?”

“Are Sirius Black and James Potter—”

“Dating.”

“—still friends.”

“Damn, I thought I had that one.” He did a double take. “Still friends? What happened? I saw him an hour ago, tops.”

“You might have to google it,” Remus suggested as he slid the board across the floor. “That’s it!”

“Way to go, guys,” Dorcas laughed. “I know literally nothing new about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sirius said as the two high-fived. “We were completely honest the whole time.”

She faced the camera with a poorly-hidden smile. “Thanks for joining us today, Lions, and remember to like and subscribe for more content!”

[captcas]

Thinks of Her

THINKS OF HER by capthamm

Deployment is easier when there isn’t anyone waiting for you at home.

I honestly have no idea where this came from. Maybe just some general 4am angst to start off the weekend? You know the stuff. 

One-shot; 1429 words; read on ao3

Emma squeezes him around the waist, as though suffocating him will somehow prevent the inevitable.

Flight 5680 to Washington, D.C.. now boarding at Gate C.

Killian feels her tense under the weight of the disembodied voice counting down their final moments together. He kisses the top of her head, desperate to comfort her in anyway he can.

Nine months abroad is much more doable when there isn’t anyone waiting for you at home.

The stares of passers by who notice the uniform and attempt to emphasize with their pain in the nano moments of a glance are almost as constricting as Emma’s increasingly tight hold. He knows he has to go, but this was much easier when Emma said goodbye the night before with the rest of their friends— when he was in love with her despite her not really being his.

He feels her shudder in an attempt to withhold a sob and knows he has to go before he says fuck the Navy— god how he wishes he could say fuck the Navy. Instead, he whispers softly into her hair, “Emma, love, the plane is boarding.”

She doesn’t speak, simply nods into his chest before pulling back to look him in the eye. When blue meet emerald, he feels the air escape his lungs— her water rimmed irises catching the light. His Swan is truly stunning, even in this state.

He briefly thinks back on the speed at which they arrived where they are today— slowly and then all at once, like some bloke sat on the fast forward button with ten minutes left in the movie. When he left for his last deployment, they had shared a kiss and nothing more. Each of them had been drinking, but not so much to fog the memory of their shared dalliance. As quick as it happened, it was over. Emma assuring him it was all sexual tension and emotions over him leaving again— a one time thing.

As you wish.

When he returned 18 months later, it was to a woman far more broken than the one he’d left. A ghost from her past resurfacing and disrupting the life of her and her son. He offered kindness and a shoulder to cry on as any friend would do and she accepted him willingly. The rest of it was inevitable really.

Killian had loved her since they were 15 years old and she punched Walsh in the face for calling Ruby a slut. If he’s honest with himself, it was probably a long time coming, but in that moment he knew there would be no one else. They spent years apart through deployments and college, but the small gang of friends they’d collected over the years always seemed to find themselves back in Storybrooke whether they wanted to be or not. It was the one constant in all their lives and Killian knew that acted like a magnet for each of the lost souls that found a bit of themselves in each other.

He found a lot of himself in Emma Swan.

Final call. Flight 5680 to Washington, D.C. now boarding at Gate C.

The urgent voice snaps him out of his nostalgia, and he sees Emma go from emotional to all business just as suddenly. “Ok, Jones, you’ve got your papers, your passport, your pillow, and your charger so you can text me when you land?”

Killian chuckles sadly at her ability to shove emotion aside in an instant— knowing full well they’ll both breakdown over the invisible weight of an empty bed later that night. Who knew two months with someone next to you would make a lifetime of sleeping alone feel foreign?

“Yes, love. I’ve got everything.”

“If you forget anything, I—“

“Will send it. I know, Swan. I really need to be on my way or Robin will kill me.” He chuckles at the mention of his commanding officer, but then Killian can feel the sadness sweep over his features, mirroring hers almost perfectly.

“I suppose so. Henry stuffed a few stowaways in your bag so make sure you bring those home safe.”

She’s deflecting and he doesn’t blame her. They haven’t even had time to explore what this is and he’s leaving. He won’t leave Emma, not permanently, not the way everyone else has, and she knows that, but he’s positive the residual pain is what’s controlling her actions now. Put your walls up and never get hurt.

“I will, love.” He knows he’s committing to more than returning the stuff crocodile Henry most likely stuck between his civies and uniforms, but Killian expects that to be the end of it when she speaks again.

“I honestly don’t care about the fucking crocodile— come home safe, Killian.”

A tear streams down her face and he can’t take it anymore, grabbing each cheek and pulling her in for a kiss. It’s messy and wet, the salt water from their tears mixing as their lips touch. They break for air and rest their foreheads together. He’s about to speak when she takes a deep breath, “I love you, Killian Jones.”

His heart does a backwards loop at the words he’s longed to hear for 16 years now. Killian somehow forms a coherent sentence— probably because it’s the most absolute truth he’s ever spoke, “And I you, Emma Swan.” He gives her one more kiss before pulling away, the loss of contact immediately jarring. She must feel it too as she wraps her arms around her own waist, tucking her hands into her sleeves.

He double checks he has everything before giving her one last glance. “Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you.”

There’s a twinkle in her eye followed by a simple, “Good.” before they both turn away, subconsciously agreeing there’s nothing left to say.

. . .

Killian is a lot of things but a liar is not one of them. He does think of Emma every single day. After D.C., he was shipped off to Japan, working on a Naval base with the crew he’s come to know as family over the last 13 years. He can’t tell Emma where he is, and being at sea makes it hard for correspondence anyway. His thoughts of her are the only thing keeping loneliness at bay.

He thinks of her as the constellation Cygnus rises over the ship late one night. He thinks of her as they dock at small islands which, for all intents and purposes, don’t exist in her world. He thinks of her as the sea breeze blows through his hair, reminiscent of her hands in the dark of his bedroom. He thinks of her as he meets new people, nameless and faceless to her, but real as the sea to him. He thinks of her, willing a closeness he knows will only be possible when his time is up.

He thinks of her as the boat is ambushed. He thinks of her as he dives into the water. He thinks of her as he uses the last of his energy to swim— a lifeboat just far enough away for the salt water to begin burning his lungs. He thinks of her as they send up flares into the sky. He thinks of her as the ladder is dropped from the helicopter. He thinks of her as he sits safely wrapped in a blanket.

He’s never had someone to think of before.

That’s why when Robin asks him if he wants to continue his deployment, the Naval higher-ups giving them they option after what happened, he thinks of her.

For the entire plane ride and seemingly endless walk through the terminal at Logan International, he thinks of her.

It’s the first time in five months of thinking of her, that she materializes in front of him. One arm around Henry who seems to be showing off a homemade “Welcome Home” sign, and the other held up to her mouth as she nervously bites at her nails. Henry spots him first and Killian is positive this looks like the scene out of some sappy Nicholas Sparks novel that Emma reads with Mary Margaret. He doesn’t care in the slightest.

Until this moment, the startling difference between thoughts of her and the real Emma Swan had only been conjecture. He is no longer content with simple thoughts. While he vowed long ago to think only of her everyday of his life, in that moment, squeezed by her and her son, he silently vows to do so right from her side.

[nasa]

Astronaut Journal Entry - The Last Week

Currently, six humans are living and working on the International Space Station, which orbits 250 miles above our planet at 17,500mph. Below you will find a real journal entry, written in space, by NASA astronaut Scott Tingle.

To read more entires from this series, visit our Space Blogs on Tumblr.

I can’t believe that Expedition 55 is already over. Today is Sunday, and we will depart the International Space Station (ISS) next Sunday morning (June 3). 

168 days in space. 

There have been many challenging moments, but even more positive highlights of our time on ISS. The new crew from the Soyuz MS-08 spacecraft (Oleg Artymyev, Drew Feustel and Ricky Arnold) joined Norishige Kanai (Nemo), Anton Shkaplerov and I last March. Since then, we have completed two spacewalks, captured and released the SpaceX Dragon-14 cargo craft, captured the Cygnus OA-9 cargo craft and completed a myriad of maintenance and science activities. 

The team on the ground controlling, monitoring, supporting and planning has been amazing. It is always great to work with them, and especially during the moments where the equipment, tools, procedures or crew need help. It is incredible to see how much a good team can accomplish when methodically placing one foot in front of the other. 

I have been lucky in that the first crew (Mark Vande Hei, Joe Acaba and Alexander Misurkin (Sasha)) and the second crew (Drew, Ricky and Oleg) were all amazing to work with. I do believe the planets aligned for my mission onboard ISS. 

Drew and Ricky have been friends forever, and listening to them nip at each other provided a ton of great humor for the ground and for us. Their one-liners to each other reminded me of several scenes from the movie Space Cowboys. 

This a great example that happened as I was writing this log entry:    

Ricky:  Hey Maker, is this your smoothie?   

Maker:  No.  

Ricky:  It must be Drew’s.

 Drew:  Hey Ricky, don’t drink my smoothie.

Ricky:  What smoothie? This one has my name on it (as he writes his name on it).

 Drew:  Okay, Grandpa Underpants, hands off my smoothie.

Ricky:  Okay, Feustelnaut – we have rules around here, so this is my smoothie now!

All:  Much laughing. (To quote my kids: “LOL!”)

One the hardest things to do in space is to maintain positive control of individual items such as tools, spare parts, fasteners, etc. We try very hard not to lose things, but even with all of the attention and positive control, items can still float away and disappear. 

We generally hold items in a crew transfer bag (CTB). Inside the CTB are many items for the system that it supports. When the CTB is opened, the items are free floating inside the bag and tend to escape. It is very difficult to maintain control of the items – especially if they are small, do not have Velcro, or when the daily schedule is so tight that we are rushing to stay on time. We always try to close the CTB’s and Ziploc bags after removing or replacing each item to maintain positive control, but this takes much more time to do for individual items, and if the timeline is tight, we absorb more risk by rushing. 

The same applies for tools, which we usually keep in a Ziploc bag while working on individual systems and tasks. Last month, I was installing a new low temperature cooling loop pump that had failed a month or two earlier. I gathered the needed tools into my modified (with Velcro) Ziploc bag as I always do and floated over to the work area. When I got there, one of the tools that I had gathered was missing. I looked for 30 minutes, and could not find it. Lost items are very hard to find because the items that escape are usually barely moving and blend in with the environment very quickly. A lost item could be right in front of us and we would never see it. 

Our crew, after learning these lessons, decided that when anyone loses something, we would tell the other crew members what we had lost with a general location. This has had a huge impact on finding items. If a different crew member can help within the first minutes of losing an item, the new crew member has an excellent chance of finding the item. We have proven this technique several times during the expedition – and Nemo was the very best at quickly finding lost items. But, in my case, we still could not find the missing tool. Our amazing ground team understood and vectored me to a replacement tool and I finished the job. I spent the next 3 weeks watching, looking and never forgetting about the lost tool. Then, one day last week, Oleg came to the lab and handed us a tool he had found in his Soyuz spacecraft, way on the aft side of the ISS. Amazing. We finally found the tool and I was happy again. This was a lucky ending. ISS has many corners, crevices and hard-to-see areas where missing items could hide and never be found.

We captured a Cygnus cargo craft last Thursday. I was very impressed with the entire team. Our specialists and training professionals in Mission Control did a great job preparing the necessary procedures and making sure we were proficient and ready to conduct operations. The robotic arm is a wonderful system that we could not operate ISS without. Being in space, however, it has some very unique handling qualities. If you think about a spring-mass-damper system just as you did during physics or control theory class, and then remove the damper, you will see a system that is very subject to slow rate oscillations. 

In test pilot terms, damping ratio is very low and the latency is well over a half of a second. Also in test pilot terms – this is a pilot-induced oscillations (PIO) generator. These characteristics require crew to “fly” the robotic arm using open-loop techniques, which requires a huge amount of patience. Test pilots are sometimes not very patient, but understanding the system and practicing with the incredible simulators that our ground team built and maintain help keep our proficiency as high as possible. The capture went flawlessly, and I was very impressed with the professionalism across the board – crew, flight controllers and training professionals – what a great job!

Drew, Ricky and I got to play guitar a few times while on ISS. This was fun! Drew connected pickups to the acoustic guitars and then connected the pickups to our tablets for amplification. I’ve never heard an acoustic guitar sound like an electric guitar amped up for heavy metal before. We had a great jam on the song “Gloria”, and a couple others. Rock on!

Last night we had our last movie night. The entire crew gathered in Node 2 and watched Avengers Infinity Wars on the big screen. We enjoy each other’s company, as we did during Expedition 54, and this was a welcome break from the daily grind of trying to complete the required stowage, maintenance and science activities while preparing for departure.

Our last full weekend here on ISS. I gave myself a haircut. We usually clean our spaces each weekend to make sure we can maintain a decent level of organization, efficiency and morale. This weekend is no different, and it is time for me to vacuum out all of our filters and vents. You’d be amazed at what we find!

The top 5 things I will miss when I am no longer in space:

The incredible team that supports ISS operations from our control centers

The camaraderie onboard ISS

The breathtaking view of the Earth, Moon, Sun and Stars

Floating/flying from location to location with very little effort

Operations in the extreme environment of space

Find more ‘Captain’s Log’ entries HERE.

Follow NASA astronaut Scott Tingle on Instagram and Twitter.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com.  

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 13)

Description: Alodia receives an unexpected visitor. 

Tagging: @xo-endlessmayhem-xo ; @princesstopgun

Chapter Thirteen: Andromeda’s Chain

Alodia

Sickness rolls violently through my midsection. I recoil, my hands flying to my mouth. On either side of me, Jake and Diego press in close, offering comfort and support, but they can't hold me tightly enough to stop me from trembling at the image on the computer screen in front of me. It's an unpolished photograph, taken with the camera on Zahra's phone, but the subject is clear. It's the Cygnus idol. Plain as day. At the Threshold, I watched it melt into a puddle of molten amber and blood, but here is photographic proof that it wasn't completely destroyed.

“Let's click away from that, shall we?” Jake murmurs, mercifully minimizing the image and restoring the video chat window to the screen. Grace and Aleister share one video feed. Zahra, Craig, Quinn, and Estela are together on the second. Raj is on a third feed, and Sean on a fourth. Michelle is still at the hospital, but Sean has promised to fill her in. And in Riverside, Jake and I have gathered with Varyyn and Diego in their living room.

“I...probably should have given you a little more warning,” Aleister mumbles, looking guilty. “I apologize.”

I shake my head, swallowing against the taste of bile in my throat. “N-never mind. So...your father's rival has one of the Catalyst idols. It...makes sense that it would be that one, considering where we found the Cygnus idol in the last loop.”

“That's what we all thought, too,” Zahra agrees. “But...actually, Silas Prescott doesn't have it anymore. It was stolen at the masquerade. I'm guessing whoever took it is looking to fence it.”

“Fence a Catalyst idol?” Varyyn shifts uncomfortably at the idea.

“It's not really a Catalyst idol out here, Varyyn,” I reply softly. “It's just a pretty amber statue. It only meant anything as a clue left by the Endless to guide me to the Threshold.”

“So, you don't think it still has any powers?” Raj asks.

“The only powers the idols ever had was a psychic link between me, the Endless, and whichever Catalyst it represented. I...suppose there is always a chance it could still give me visions if Grace and I touched it at the same time, but it isn't as if anyone out here could make use of it.”

“Perhaps,” Aleister concedes. “But I still don't like the idea of a Catalyst idol floating around out there among the masses. I would rather have it back in our hands. Or return it to the Vaanti.”

“There is an uncomfortable vibe around the whole idea of some rich old white guy keeping Vaanti artifacts for himself,” Raj agrees.

In spite of myself, I chuckle. “Even though the artifact was ultimately forged at the command of an old white woman in a spacesuit?”

“...By a race of super-evolved humans descended from a rich white woman and her groom of likely mixed ancestry?” Diego adds.

“Oh, knock it off. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” I admit, feeling my momentary humor evaporate. “And honestly, I agree. The Endless commissioned those idols and infused them with the blood of the people she loved most to forge a psychic link with me so that I could protect you all. Even if the Vaanti wouldn't consider them sacred anymore, it isn't appropriate to treat them like curiosities or toys to buy and sell.”

“Do you think we should go looking for the idol?”

That makes me pause a moment. “...Do...do you have any idea where to start?”

“Well...no...”

“And the idol isn't the only thing we discovered at the masquerade, either,” Quinn adds.

“What do you mean.”

“...You were right, Alodia,” Estela says softly. “...My mother is alive.”

A shocked silence descends, unbroken for almost a full minute. Finally Sean asks, “...Are you sure?”

“I saw her. She was at the masquerade, and she was dressed like Flora Sullivan on her wedding day. She lifted her mask and looked straight at me. I had her in my sight for a solid minute before the lights went out. I managed to trail her outside, and I saw her running off down the street, but that's where I lost her.” She pauses. “...She wasn't a hallucination. I went back the next morning, and I found her mask in the hedge outside Prescott Industries.”

“I believe you,” I assure her. “Of course I believe you. I was actively trying to bring her back as I gave myself back to Vaanu. But...why would she only appear now...?”

“I don't know. But I think she left the mask for me to find. ...I think she wants me to know she's here, but for some reason, she isn't able to speak to me yet.”

“Maybe...for the time being, we should let the business with the idol lie,” I say softly. “And concentrate on finding Olivia.”

“My mom won't be found until she wants to be found,” Estela murmurs.

“Neither will the idol, come to that,” I sigh. “But...maybe...if Grace were in Northbridge...”

“Maybe...” Grace agrees slowly. “That is...if my psychic link to the idol is still functional...”

“But...maybe I have to be there, too...”

“You think so?”

“I think she does have to be there,” Diego chimes in. “As I recall, the Canis idol ended up being right under our noses in the Valley of Tombs. ...But in the six months I was living with the Vaanti, I couldn't find it until Allie showed up.”

“That would make sense,” Varyyn says thoughtfully. “The psychic link was surely not between Catalyst and idol, but between Catalyst and Endless.”

“Exactly. I expect the idols were basically like batteries that powered the psychic link.”

“And they required that the circuit be closed before they would work,” Aleister finishes.

“So...the Catalyst is...or was...the cathode and Alodia was the anode?” Grace asks.

“Something like that.”

“...I only ever got visions from the idols when I touched them at the same time as their Catalyst.”

“Lending further credence to the cathode/anode theory.”

I hesitate, shifting uncomfortably. “I...don't know how easy it's going to be for me to drop everything and come to Northbridge...”

“That doesn't seem like it's necessary right now, does it?” Jake asks. “I mean, what do we even do with the idol once we get our hands on it? It's actual purpose is kinda moot, isn't it?”

“Maybe, but the fact that it still exists is significant,” Aleister replies. He sighs. “Listen, Alodia. Do not panic. Not yet. And do not drop everything and rush across America. Though...I think it is about time I made the trip to Northbridge. It is Grace's choice whether she wants to come alo--”

“Of course I'm coming, silly! You aren't leaving Reggie and me alone in London!”

He laughs. “Very well, my dear. How about this: Grace and I will make the arrangements and we'll make contact when we arrive in Northbridge. Does that sound all right?”

“...I suppose,” I reply, my uncertainty surely reflected in my voice. Jake rubs my back soothingly. In her window, I see Quinn's hand drift to the side of the screen, as if touching the computer is a way of physically touching me.

“Hang in there, Alodia,” she says. “I know this is all scary, but we've got your back.”

“Just...promise me you won't keep anything from me. I know I'm on the other side of the country, but...”

“We won't keep you in the dark,” Estela promises. Everyone reluctantly says their goodbyes, and then Diego closes his laptop. For a moment, I sit numbly on the couch, processing everything I've just learned. I rise and make my way to the balcony, slipping out into the daylight. It's summer in southern California, and the air is typically hot and dry. Nothing like the muggy, suffocating heat of La Huerta's tropical zone. The dry heat has its own dangers, though. I have memories of droughts and wildfires dominating the news during the summers of my childhood, though thankfully they never got close enough to me and Diego to shatter our childish illusion of security. I never had that illusion in my other existence.

I hear the door open behind me. Jake wanders out to stand beside me.

“Hey...you okay?”

I don't answer immediately. I look out over the parking lot below us, beyond it to the city of Riverside. Then as helpless fury grips me, I kick wildly at the railing around the balcony.

“Fuck!” I snarl. “Goddammit! I just want to live my life! Is that really so much to ask?!”

“There's no reason to think this gonna interfere with your life,” Jake says softly.

“No, Jake, there is every reason to think so! The Catalyst idols were supposed to have been destroyed when I broke the cycle! The time crystals were supposed to have gone back with Vaanu when I gave myself back! I must have been so stupid to ever believe I could come back without something going wrong!”

“Hey!” Jake grips my shoulders firmly, turning me to face him. “Your coming back isn't what caused this, okay? Whatever Silas Prescott's machine was designed to do, whatever happened when he manipulated the crystal, that's what brought you back. You did your part perfectly back on La Huerta.”

I feel my rage settle for a moment, overpowered by surprise at his words. It's not that I expected him to tell me I caused things to go wrong, or that I did something wrong back on the island...but I kinda expected him to protest more the idea that my coming back was anything but a blessing.

“...Jake...”

He raises a hand to cup my cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. “...I of all people didn't want to question it when you came back to me. I still don't want to entertain the possibility that I might lose you again. ...But clearly Silas Prescott's meddling has had effects beyond the good ones.”

I feel tears in my eyes. “...I just want it to be over...I just want to be safe with you...finally have our year and a day and beyond...”

“And I still believe we're gonna get that, Princess. With everything in me. 'No land, no sea, no one can keep apart those who are destined to be together', remember? The fact that you're in front of me now pretty well reinforces that for me, no matter what Prescott had to do with it.”

I feel a sob bubble up in my chest and I can't choke it down. Another one follows, and I collapse into his arms.

“I'm scared,” I whimper against his shoulder. “Jake, I'm so scared...”

“I know. I am too.”

“If Silas Prescott had been showing off the Endless' severed right arm, I wouldn't be as scared as I am thinking that one of the Catalyst idols survived. Just the thought of seeing those visions again...”

His arms tighten around me and he kisses the top of my head. “I doubt it's gonna be like that. But even if it is, we're all gonna be with you this time. I mean, really with you. No hiding, right?”

I exhale, my breath shaking. “...No hiding,” I agree. “...I love you, Jake. To the stars and back, I love you.”

“I love you to the end of everything. We're gonna be okay, Princess. We're gonna make it.”

I let him hold me. Let him calm me. I let him lead me back inside and I let Diego and Varyyn take their turns at offering their support. It helps. But the fear doesn't entirely leave me. I don't sleep very well that night.

The next day, Jake wakes up early as usual to go to work. I'm up less than an hour after he leaves, showered and dressed in a leotard and tights, my hair pulled back into a tight bun. I have just enough time for a quick breakfast before I'm off to the dance studio. I've been loading my weekly schedule with classes, not only as a student, but as a Trainee dance teacher. It won't be long before I'm teaching for money. Most of the same teachers I grew up with are still there, and several of the adult students are familiar to me, former classmates I remember from before Hartfeld who either stayed in the area, or who moved back after college.

There's another familiar face behind the reception desk when I enter the studio. Jim Roberts, affectionately known as J-Robb to most of us here, has worked at the studio since he was a teenager. I remember having a crush on him when I was about thirteen. He's in his mid-thirties now. He's still handsome in a sweet, somewhat dorky way; a tall, slim beanpole of a man with pale, freckled skin, curly strawberry-blond hair, and glasses. He's friendly and animated, and the young dancers especially love the fact that he stands by the door at the end of class to send everyone off with a high five.

“Goooood morning, Alodia!” he drawls as I enter the building. “You here all day again?”

“Dancer in the morning, teacher-in-training in the afternoon,” I reply, signing in.

“Enjoy yourself.”

I slip into the studio, change into my pointe shoes, and take my place at the barre. Ninety minutes of ballet precedes a half-hour break, which is followed by a modern class. Then I have an hour for lunch, then one more class of my own, jazz, before I get to start winding down for the day, with two Trainee classes. Both are ballet, four- and five-year-olds first, followed by the preteen/intermediate class.

Unfortunately, about half-way through my modern class, the air conditioning at the studio craps out. With the day well over eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit, this becomes a major concern. We turn the lights off, open all the windows, drag every fan out of the closets that we can find, and take frequent water breaks, but it proves ineffective against the effects of eighteen bodies all dancing vigorously together. By the time I get back from lunch, I'm informed that the decision has been made to cancel classes for the afternoon. The outside doors are locked, and a sign posted on the door. The teachers all go home, but J-Robb stays behind to call as many of the students and parents as he can reach, and to deal with the HVAC people when they get here. It probably isn't prudent of me, but somehow, I can't resist the lure of the empty studio.

“Hey, J-Robb, mind if I stick around and use the studio to do a little choreography? Just as long as you're here.”

“You sure? I mean, I'm comfy enough sitting still with the fans going, but are you gonna be okay jumping around in there?”

“It won't be as bad with just me in there. Besides, I'm mostly gonna be marking. Won't do anything full-out that I can't handle.”

He shrugs. “If you think you'll be okay, go for it. Just stay in the first studio, okay? So I can keep an eye on you.”

“Will do.”

I keep the lights off and the fans going, and plug my phone into the speaker system and select an electronic trance piece; something that reminds me of Quarr'tel, but more melodic. I put it on a loop, walk to the center of the floor, and close my eyes, letting the music seep into my veins. For now, I'm just seeing where it takes me, marking out possible steps. I'll weave it into a coherent pattern later.

Ultimately, where the music ends up taking me is back to Quarr'tel. I can see the lights pulsing inside the dead tree. Anachronists surround me, swaying and flailing, throwing themselves into the wild dance. This is the Party Before the End. A farewell party to Vaanu. To me, too. Though I don't know if most of them realized it. I feel my steps getting faster.

Maybe some of them did. Maybe that's why some of them chose to follow Uqzhaal to Mount Atropo. Perhaps they realized who the Endless was. What she was. Perhaps they knew that I had to give myself back to Vaanu for it to depart. Perhaps they knew that the Endless had resisted that fate, spent her whole existence trying to give me something better than the loss of my own consciousness and separation from the only family I knew. Helpless anger starts to fuel my steps now. I remember the moment when I looked across the club at Quarr'tel and saw Uqzhaal glaring at me, his visage fearsome behind his warrior's mask. The accusations he flung at me. I remember when we encountered the Endless at the Threshold, what he said to her then.

“You used my people as fodder! Pawns! Caring only for your so-called Catalysts!”

And what were we to you, Uqzhaal?! The thought races to the surface of my mind unbidden. Were we anything more than pawns when Vaanti warriors attacked us at The Celestial? Do you have any idea how scared we were, being hunted down and cornered like animals?! Do you have any idea what it felt like to have my best friend and brother ripped away from me?! When he cried for me over the next six months, did you care?! Did you ever feel remorse?! What was I to you, Uqzhaal?! A pawn! A tool! What was I to you, Vaanu?!

...My daughter.

I whip around. Somehow, I don't question the fact that I'm suddenly standing in the central chamber of Mount Atropo, staring into a magma pool.

“Your daughter?” I practically spit the word.

Yes. My sweet, precious child.

Furious tears sting my eyes. “I don't believe you! In the end, I was nothing but a pawn to you, same as I was to Uqzhaal!”

That isn't true. I love you.

“Then why give me that choice?!”

I didn't give you that choice, Vaanu replies sadly. I was merely the messenger. There were simply no other options than the three paths you chose between.

“It isn't fair!”

I know, my darling. Very little is fair in the universe. It was not fair that our homeworld was lost. It is not fair that my brother has been separated from his daughter for so long. It was not fair that Quinn was born dying, or that Diego was lonely for so long, or that Jake was blamed for a crime of which he was innocent, or that you were born to protect eleven people and to choose between three terrible paths.

“I hate you! I wish I had never been born!” It's such a stupidly childish thing to say, but it feels true in this moment, and I can't help blurting it out. Vaanu makes a sound that might be a sigh.

The last time you threw a tantrum like this, you put on a red spacesuit. It almost sounds amused.

“Fuck you,” I growl.

My daughter, its voice is gentle, but there is a command that I cannot resist. Look at me.

I whine petulantly, but I raise my eyes. Above the magma pool, Vaanu's spirit floats in front of me, a familiarly androgenous shape. Abruptly, it begins to brighten, morphing. Just before it becomes too bright to look at, forcing me to throw my hands up in front of my face, I see the ghostly figure's chest broaden, the hips narrow, the Ken-doll anatomy between the legs begin to lengthen. When the brightness fades and the spots clear from my vision, a handsome man—thankfully clothed, in a Hawaiian shirt and bermuda shorts of all things—floats above the magma pool. He is blue-eyed and yellow-haired, generically good-looking. And yet, something about him is so familiar...

“...Vaanu...?” The man nods. I squint at his face. Then, my eyes widen as my gaze lands on his mouth. ...His rosebud mouth. I gasp, my hand coming to cover my own lips. The shape is the same, the rosebud mouth that Aunt Molly has always envied, always wondered at. “...Father...?”

Vaanu regards me achingly. And then he speaks, but not in my mind this time. “...If it were up to me, my child...don't you think I would have given you everything you wanted? This world safe and restored, with you in it and your friends beside you? ...Isn't that what any father wants for his daughter? To give her the world? The thing about our kind, though...our will is a powerful thing. Capable of making miracles.”

The heat in the central chamber is becoming oppressive. “...Va...Father...I don't understand...”

“Everything in its own time, my sweetheart.” He sighs. “I wish you had gone home with the other dancers...”

With that, I am yanked back to the studio so violently that the sprung wood floor comes crashing up to meet me. Nausea rolls through me. I can taste my lunch at the back of my throat and on my tongue, now sour and flavored with acid as it spills out of me onto the floor beside my head. Dark spots flicker through my vision as voices swim toward me through a dark, watery fog. My pulse sings against my eardrums, my breath coming out of me in shallow gasps as every muscle in my body seems to lock up at once in painful spasms.

“Alodia...! Alodia...!”

Jake

About mid-afternoon, I get the call from the dance studio that Alodia has passed out, and they're taking her to the hospital. It looks like heat exhaustion, they tell me, that the air conditioning went out in the building. I immediately get permission from her uncle to take off, but the fact is still that I'm coming from LA, and if there's one thing I've discovered about southern California, it's that traffic is hideous no matter what the hour. I call Diego from the car, begging him to get to the hospital as fast as he can so Alodia won't be alone when she comes around. Thankfully, he agrees.

I'm about halfway to Riverside when Diego calls back. I tap my phone onto speaker.

“What's the word?”

“Allie's come around. She's still kinda groggy, but they've got her core temperature down to normal and they've got her on IV fluids. They want to run a couple tests to make sure everything is checking out okay.”

“What everything are they checking out?”

“Making sure there wasn't any damage to internal organs.”

“Fuck...”

“Don't panic, okay? Just get here as soon as you can.”

“You say that, but something in your voice is telling me there's something to be afraid of.” When he hesitates, I add, “Goddammit, Diego, just tell me.”

“I just wanted to get someplace a little more private,” he says with a hint of reproach. “...I overheard the doctors saying that the state she was in seemed more severe than it should have been for what her core temp was and how long she was in the studio. And as she was coming out of it, she was saying something about Vaanu.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightens. “...Just make sure she knows I'm coming to her, okay?”

“I will.”

* * *

I finally arrive at the hospital, and they direct me to a room in the emergency department, where my wife is lying on a bed in a hospital gown with a thin sheet draped over her legs. A plastic IV line snakes from the crook of her arm to the bag over her head. Diego sits beside her, gently holding her hand. She looks pale, and the roots of her hair are damp, but she turns her gaze toward me as I enter, smiling weakly.

“Hey, Top Gun.”

I hurry to her side to take her free hand. On the arm opposite the IV, there's a taped-down piece of gauze. “Hey, Princess. How you feeling?”

“Embarrassed, mostly. This was all my own fault.”

“What?”

“When the air conditioning went out, they sent everyone home, but I stayed behind awhile to choreograph. I promised J-Robb I was just going to be marking, but I got a little carried away.”

I can't help frowning. “...Is that all that happened?”

She doesn't seem surprised by the question. “...Not quite. But I'll tell you the rest later.” She sighs. “They're talking about admitting me overnight. They have my blood and my pee, but apparently that's not enough to convince them my organs haven't totally melted.”

“Well, if they decide to keep you here, I'll stay too.”

“Let me call your aunt and uncle,” Diego says. “I'll coordinate with them to bring your car over here from the studio so you can have it whenever they finally discharge you. ...After that, I should let Varyyn know what's going on. He'll be worried about you.”

She smiles. “That's sweet of him. Let him know I'm okay.”

Diego doesn't smile back. “...I'm not telling him that until I know it's true.”

* * *

By the time Diego has finished checking in with everyone, Alodia has been admitted. The doctor tells us everything looks fine so far, but they want to keep her under observation and possibly run a couple more tests in the morning. Diego gets us dinner in the cafeteria, and after securing permission to get something for Alodia too, brings it up to her room so that we can eat together.

“Allie,” Diego says after a moment, “when I got here, you were mumbling something about Vaanu...”

“That doesn't surprise me. I had a...vision of him before I passed out.”

I raise an eyebrow. “...Vaanu's a him now?”

“The ghost did always seem to have a flat chest,” Diego points out.

“I don't remember everything precisely about what I saw or what he said,” Alodia says. “But...I was left with the feeling that Vaanu is my real father. I mean, in this timeline. The one where I was born and had a childhood.”

For a moment, Diego and I are both silent. He's the one to break it. “...How...would that work exactly?”

“He didn't exactly give me the details. But I assumed he took human form, fell in love with and married my human mother, and then she gave birth to me. And then there was a plane crash, and they both died. Or...she died and he went back to the stars. ...Or...” she trails off.

“...Or...?” I prompt her. She still doesn't speak. She stares at the tray in front of her, then slowly pushes it away. Her hand is trembling. She starts to breathe faster and I feel my heart start to race with alarm. “Alodia?”

She turns to throw herself into my arms, clutching me painfully tight. I grip her back, cradling her head against my shoulder, rocking her gently. Diego puts a hand on her back.

“Allie, what's wrong? What's going on?”

“I...I can't...” she whimpers.

“You can't what...?”

“I can't say it...”

“Princess, whatever it is, we can face it. We can face it together. I promise.”

She is quiet for a very long time, except for the sound of her panicked breathing against my shoulder. Her breath is hot through my shirt; her fingertips dig into the flesh of my back.

“I love you, Jake...”

“I love you, too, Alodia.”

“I love you with all my heart. I won't lose you again.”

I tighten my grip. “I ain't losing you, either. I ain't letting you lose me.”

“But Jake...my parents died in a plane crash. Over the ocean. I don't know for sure but...it does seem possible that Vaanu has been broken again.”

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Taylor you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Bellatrix Black

↳ please refer to our character checklist

I don’t think screaming really begins to describe the sounds I made while I read over your audition. You painted Bellatrix in such an intense light that flows so well with the woman we all know she becomes. I can’t wait to see what your version of her will bring to the group, and if we’re being honest I’m mostly excited for the chaos that having Bellatrix is going to be bringing. I know that you have so much up your sleeves for us and I can’t wait to see the twisted turns you throw our way! *Your faceclaim change has been accepted.

application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Hey, it’s Taylor! 19, in EST and still using female pronouns

ACTIVITY

About the same as it has been, so I’ll let that be a speaking factor for itself.

TRIGGERS

None that aren’t listed.

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

I’ve lived here for two years :)

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

I go between Harry and Ron. Usually it depends on the day.

IN CHARACTER

Bellatrix Druella Lestrange (nee Black)

Bellatrix is the third brightest start from Orion, which certainly played a part in her naming. It also stands to mean female warrior, something that she herself is quite proud of.

Druella, her mother’s name, was a bitter sort of present that holds a great deal of resentment even still.

BIRTHDAY / STAR SIGN

October 31, 1950, making her a Scorpio

OCCUPATION

Bellatrix is unemployed, and under no belief that she needs to change that. She has wealth, and devotes most of her time to being Voldemort’s right hand as need be. Though, that’s not to say she isn’t using her husband’s newest appointment as Minister to her own advantage. The very minute he took over she was there, inserting herself into every decision.

FACE CLAIM

Jade Tailor would be my first choice, otherwise Alexandra Park.

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

Oh man, I don’t even know where to start. Bellatrix was a character that, when I first began writing her, utterly terrified me. She’s such a well known and terrifying character that little, seventeen year old me was so intimidated. But somehow I got the hang of it, and somehow with time I learned to mesh with her incredibly well. There is so much more to Bellatrix Lestrange than what we come to see in canon; she is a villain, and a good one.  But far more dimensional than anyone gives her credit for.

I’m a firm believer that Bellatrix was not born as mad as we see her in the canon series. Yes, she’s more than a little unhinged and feels little remorse for the horrific things that she does.  But she is not so far gone that she is as horrifyingly crazy as we see her during the second war. Before Azkaban, Bellatrix was actually rather sane. She was put together, cared about her appearance; she was wild and deeply resented anything resembling the stereotypes that Narcissa had been bred to portray. But she did care for her image. So she built a new one. It wasn’t until after spending a decade in prison, surrounded by Dementors that fed off her worst memories, that she truly became manic. Her time in prison was a never ending loop of the time after Sirius and Andromeda left their family. A loop of the disappointment she was faced with afterwards, by their father who suddenly decided Bella needed to be more. As if she was never enough in the first place.

First born to the Black family, she should have been the pride and joy - except for one factor neither Druella nor Cygnus ever seemed to get past: she lacked a dick. It was for that reason she was never really shown love, until the day Andromeda was born. Having her first sister was more a thing of tolerance for Bella, though she had a great amount of affection for her. From the day she was born, Bellatrix knew she was going to protect her. She was going to have to. And then Narcissa was born, and for the first time in her life, Bellatrix Black felt genuine love in the bright eyes of her youngest sister.

As children, Bellatrix adored them both and would have killed to protect them (and maybe did, at a time.) But as she got older, things began to change. As she neared the end of her Hogwarts career, Bellatrix discovered the power of Voldemort in a way that Cygnus has never introduced her to. She took the Mark eagerly at the young age of sixteen, and that was enough to set her on her path. Suddenly there was someone who believed in her for more than anything her own family had ever believed. Maybe some people thought he was a devil, but to Bella, the Dark Lord was a god. He saved her, or so she believes. Showed her the praise and delight when she strives for success in a way her family never had.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Bellatrix is of the firm belief that there isn’t a point in love. Her parents never showed her any, her own sister left. Romantic love of any sort seems quite useless. It wasn’t always that way, at one point in Hogwarts she was in love without realizing it. A student from Bulgaria had spent a year in the castle, and she was captivating. Bella was enamored and when Viktoria left, she pointedly decided that was the end of things. She hadn’t even wanted to marry, but after her sister’s betrayal there was no choice, and she is well aware there are worse out there than Rodolphus. She may not be in love with him, but she does regard him as her other half, the right match.

As for her sexuality, it falls somewhere in the bisexual range but more prone to woman. Of course, she doesn’t ever think much of it and has come to get off purely on power, but that’s beside the point.

Proud to be a woman from the moment she was old enough to understand why her father hated her, Bellatrix did everything in her power to own it. She would never be as feminine as her Cissa, but she was going to own it. So she wasn’t born with a dick, that was a power move that needs to be erased; even if she doesn’t have one, Bellatrix has made it well known that she has more power than most men, and she likes it that way.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER

-A moodboard (x) -An aesthetic (x) -A mockblog ;)

Intelligent (adjective) - having or showing intelligence, especially at a high level ; Bellatrix was always a very gifted student, a bright girl – true to her name existing among stars, she shone brightly amongst even the darkest circumstances. In Hogwarts she topped every class she took. She reads people with excellence, detecting how people think before they even do themselves. She is perceptive, and smart. It’s part of what drew her to her Dark Lord…what got her named his favorite, among all his men.

Capable (adjective) - able to achieve efficiently whatever one has to do ; it would truly be a thing to curse the day one looked Bellatrix Lestrange in the eye and told her ‘you can’t.’ An impeccably strong and determined woman, when her mind is made up you can be certain she will follow throw. Magical prowess and determination to succeed could very well play a large part in her abilities; just as being a woman among high ranks – she fought her way to the top. And to descend would be a fall she wouldn’t be willing to take.

Apathetic (adjective) - showing or feeling no emotion ; feelings show weakness, and weakness – well. Bellatrix knows all too well how dangerous those can be. She likes to think she let them go – very deep down, extremely deep, they exist. Though the only person to ever truly spark that is Narcissa. As far as Bella is concerned, they’ve become so deeply buried they are gone. Trapping as that may be, she’s felt free ever since.

Explosive (adjective) - able or likely to shatter violently ; there are many things which may be said to blame for Bellatrix and her violent tendencies. Rumours abound as to what it is that makes her so easily set off - perhaps it was her childhood. Perhaps being a woman stronger than many men in a predominately men’s world. Rage has been swelling, building for a lifetime. A dangerous time bomb which has gone off in spades since joining the Dark Lord’s forces, but has never truly exploded.

Pinterest Board

Patronus - while Bellatrix is a very powerful witch, she is incapable of producing the Patronus charm. Her happiest memories existed only when her sisters were together, and with Andromeda’s betrayal, they’ve been tainted. Other than that, her happiest memories are sadistic, and not at all powerful enough for the charm to work, though if it were to it would display as a dragon – explosive, beautiful, powerful and dangerous.

Boggart - her parents, or more specifically, Cygnus. While Bella would like to pretend she has no fears, deep down she is always aware of the fear she has held towards the man since she was little. The fears of being a disappointment, being disowned for that very reason, being a disgrace to her family, the Cause, her beliefs.

Mirror of Erised - if asked Bella would claim it would be nothing but a world the Cause is aiming for - one that is pure and better. But as shallow as she appears at times, Bellatrix wants much more than that and even she isn’t aware of her heart’s desires, because of the walls she’s built to protect it. In all honestly, she would see herself happy, truly happy in ways every woman craves. But even Bella knows better, knowledge of that craving or not.

Seven Devils by Florence and the Machine ‘ Holy water cannot help you now See I’ve had to burn your kingdom down And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out I’m gonna raise the stakes, I’m gonna smoke you out’

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it: “Something to detect and repel those of lesser than myself. A spell of course, potions and charms are boring and hardly comprable. I myself wouldn’t name it, I have plenty of better things to do, but I can assure you it would be of great use to me.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you: “I don’t have to do anything, especially venture into that forsaken forest. However, if I ever did, Rodolphus would accompany me and probably bitch about his shoes the whole time but he’s the first choice. I would need nothing but my wand, you daft cretin, I’m entirely powerful with that alone.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make? “Ones that require patience, I suppose. I never had any of that.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you? “That I’m a sympathizer. I’d hate to be the fool that ever made that mistake.”

REACTION TO LAST EVENT DROP

Bellatrix is growing impatient, and fast. Things had been looking up when Rodolphus took office but now, with the way Aversio and the Order both seem to be gaining power, she is increasingly angry. Action needs to be taken and fast, anyone that stands in their way wiped out. And while she is, for now, only awaiting Voldemort’s approval, she’s started to wonder just how long he plans to wait.

WRITING SAMPLE

One day stood out in her mind, high above all else, constantly encircling as if a bird waiting for its prey, a snake just waiting for a chance to slide forward and attack. The day that Bellatrix Druella Lestrange Black, always Black, had lost the humanity that had remained…the day that her beloved sister, her dearest, gentle Andromeda had left them. All for a worthless excuse of a wizard, a Mudblood, a man who had nothing to offer her except the loss of her family, of those whose flowing crimson was the very same as her own. Those she was meant to be with.

Andromeda had, in her foolish attempt at seeking forgiveness, searching a chance to remain with her family while betraying them, had pleaded. Begged for understanding, a chance to explain, to grovel pathetically at her elder sister’s feet. The day held high above all the rest, on a flaming beacon in the depths of her mind which never faded, even after countless missions, progressive days. How foolish it had been of her sister (no, she mustn’t allow herself to think that way - how foolish, how stupid, a sad habit of so many years lost that needed extracted from her mind just as all impurities must be from the wizarding world), to wish for forgiveness.

How ridiculously idiotic she felt now, to think of it. To look back at how worried she had been for her sister. Andromeda had always been softer than she - had always been much quieter when the ever-present topic of blood and purity and war came about. Not once in the whole of her lifetime had Bellatrix judged her - if the day came to ask Andromeda to stand beside her, the eldest of all Black children strongly believed she would. She had expected better of her sister, expected more than to simply be tossed aside like the trash, with less respect than even the damned House Elves received upon their deaths. To be tossed out like garbage for the sake of the lowest scum the world had to offer. A Mudblood.

It was insulting, if nothing else, but it was far more than that - it was disgusting and repulsive. Even the mere thought of it made her stomach churn. Her sister, her blood had left them for a filthy, disgusting excuse of ‘wizard.’ Pure filth.

Had Andromeda not cared for her at all?

A tragic use of valuable time, it was, to dwell on something so disgusting and unimportant. Andromeda had made her choice, in choosing to become a blood traitor, to turn her back to their family, to Bellatrix herself. She wouldn’t think of the woman ever again. Leaving her alone had been a kindness, and yet, cruelty in what was only one of its most powerful forms.

Yes, she let Andromeda leave them…for the Blacks would carry on. Preserve purity and wipe anything which threatened to risk such away, leaving the true pristine wizarding world Narcissa’s children would deserve.

For how much more satisfactory it would be to watch Andromeda lost everything she had left for.

[componentplanet]

Hubble Spots Supernova Blast Wave 2,400 Light Years Away

The Hubble Space Telescope has provided some amazing views of the universe. It’s easy to become complacent after seeing so many remarkable images, but Hubble can still wow us after 30 years. In a recent observation, the aging space telescope captured the expanding edge of a supernova blast wave. Yes, that luminous wave above is real, though it may look like something from Star Trek. 

This barrier of light is about 2,400 light-years from Earth in the constellation Cygnus and is part of a massive structure called the Cygnus Loop. The full structure covers a portion of the sky 36 times larger than the full moon, but most of it is outside the visible spectrum. The visible parts are the most famous, of course, known as the Veil Nebula. 

The Cygnus Loop and the Veil Nebula are the results of a massive supernova explosion between 10,000 and 20,000 years ago. The star that produced the cloud has never been identified, but it was likely 20 times larger than the sun. That suggests it’s now a neutron star remnant someplace in or near the Cygnus Loop. 

Even after all these millennia, the shockwave from the blast is still expanding at more than 200 miles per second (350 kilometers per second). Thus, it’s covered 60 light-years since the supernova. From its vantage orbiting Earth, the Hubble Space Telescope can focus on the shockwave. Matter and energy ejected from the doomed star interact with low-density interstellar material, causing the glowing loops seen in the image. 

The full Cygnus Loop nebula as seen in ultraviolet.

Hubble began operation in 1990, and work on its primary mirror began way back in 1979. Here we are in 2020, and this instrument can capture an incredible image of a supernova shockwave 2,400 light-years distant. It’s even more impressive when you remember that Hubble’s primary mirror has a substantial spherical aberration flaw — NASA had to install “eyeglasses” inside Hubble to correct for it. The telescope clearly has a very good prescription. 

Still, the keen-eyed Hubble is getting on toward the end of its life. Its final service mission was in 2009 before the end of the Space Shuttle program. The crew on that mission (STS-125) installed new gyroscopes to stabilize the satellite, but several of them have now failed. Scientists hope that Hubble holds together until its successor, the James Webb Space Telescope, begins operation. After numerous delays, the Webb telescope is currently scheduled to launch in late 2021.

Now read:

A Partial Supernova Flung This White Dwarf Across the Milky Way

The 25 Best Hubble Space Telescope Images

NASA May Have Fixed Hubble By Shaking It and Turning It Off and On

from ExtremeTechExtremeTech https://www.extremetech.com/extreme/314171-hubble-spots-supernova-blast-wave-2400-light-years-away from Blogger http://componentplanet.blogspot.com/2020/08/hubble-spots-supernova-blast-wave-2400.html

[interplanetarypodcast]

#28 - Space Conspiracy - Marcus Allen - SpaceX Launch Land Repeat

This week we invite UK conspiracy theorist Marcus Allen on to the show. We realise this is controversial and may offend some of our listeners. Our aim is to understand why people believe in conspiracy theories. When we are at space events, conspiracies are often spoken about in lowered voices, we feel the need to shine a light on them. We invite listeners to send in their feedback ...can we persuade Marcus the error of his ways in part 2?

We also talk about the awesome achievement of SpaceX and the reused Flacon 9 booster. Peggy Whitson and her eighth spacewalk. And Hawkins going to space.

Space Conspiracy Episode

“there are plenty of genuine conspiracies in history, some of them very good like the conspiracy to murder Hitler, which unfortunately didn’t come off.  History is full of conspiracies, but one of the things you know about them if you look at them is that they very, very often, practically always go wrong and they never involve thousands and thousands and thousands of people.  It’s just too big”  John Gray

“People crave meaning, ” Gray writes, “if someone is pulling the strings behind the stage, the human drama is not without meaning”. “ Human beings act, certainly. But none of them knows why they act as they do. There is a scattering of facts, which can be known and reported. Beyond these facts are the stories that are told. Human beings may behave like puppets, but no one is pulling the strings “

“So if my four-year-old nephew tells me there's a magic leprechaun in the garden I have to spend a week meticulously peering underneath each individual blade of grass before I can tell him he's wrong, do I”

Charlie Brooker (amazing article)

“Embrace a conspiracy theory and suddenly you're part of a gang sharing privileged information; your sense of power and dignity rises a smidgen and this troublesome world makes more sense, for a time. You've seen through the matrix!”

“The mentally disturbed do not employ the Principle of Scientific Parsimony: the most simple theory to explain a given set of facts. They shoot for the baroque.”

― Philip K. Dick, VALIS

In the News.

UK industry praises spaceflight bill, but calls 2020 launch goal unrealistic

The United Kingdom’s would-be launch service providers — a mix of British startups and international primes — told Parliament this week the country’s goal of seeing a first launch from within its borders by 2020 is at this point most likely wishful thinking.

That outlook stands in contrast to that of U.K. Space Agency Interim Chief Executive Katherine Courtney, who said late last month that she was “confident that 2020 will see the first launches from British soil.”

“Hitting 2020 is going to be pretty nigh impossible,” Richard Peckham, business development director for Airbus Group

“I’m not quite in the ‘pretty impossible’ count that Richard was in, but it’s certainly very challenging,” said Mark Thomas, managing director of Reaction Engines

Jeff Bezos shares ‘sneak peek’ of Blue Origin crew capsule

Blue Origin founder Jeff Bezos on Wednesday released a set of images depicting the capsule his company is developing to launch passengers on its New Shepard suborbital spacecraft.  

Astronaut Peggy Whitson Set to Break Spacewalk Record Thursday

Expedition 50 Flight Engineer Peggy Whitson is set to go on her eighth spacewalk Thursday morning and surpass astronaut Suni Williams’ record for the most spacewalks by a female astronaut. Whitson’s last spacewalk was on Jan. 6 with Commander Shane Kimbrough when she hooked up new lithium-ion batteries and inspected the Alpha Magnetic Spectrometer.

NASA’s Juno Spacecraft Completes Fifth Jupiter Flyby

Cygnus mission delayed to mid-April

A Cygnus cargo mission to the International Space Station delayed because of booster problems will not fly until at least the middle of April, a NASA official said March 28

FALCON 9

As well as bringing Pad 39A back to operational service,  SpaceX has already established an impressive cadence of back-to-back launches. Having despatched the ISS-bound CRS-10 Dragon mission on 19 February, a mere 25 days elapsed before EchoStar-23 departed the pad on 16 March. This was the shortest interval between a pair of launches since April 1985, when shuttles Discovery and Challenger rocketed into orbit within 17 days of each other. If SES-10 rises to orbit as planned on Thursday, it will secure a new empirical record of just 14 days between launches, as well as an all-time record of only 39 days between three launches.

Stephen Hawking to Visit Space Aboard Virgin Galactic

in an interview on Monday with the British program Good Morning Britain, the physicist and cosmologist said that he's been wanting to visit space ever since he experienced a weightless flight aboard a plane that flies parabolic loops to simulate zero gravity. He was likely referring to a Zero Gravity Corp. flight in 2007 aboard a specially-modified Boeing 727-200 aircraft called G-FORCE ONE.

"My ambition is to fly into space," remarked Hawking, speaking with a computerised voice from his wheelchair. "I thought no one would take me, but [Virgin founder] Richard Branson has offered me a seat on Virgin Galactic."