#THE PARALLELS BETWEEN JOHN AND MILES

[nb-n0v4]

GUESS WHAT I SAW. RAHHHHH THIS MOVIE WAS SO DAMN GOOD. Anyway we all new this guy was gonna be my new Guy(tm) words cannot explain how much I fucking love everything about this movie and this character and and grrrr it’s so GOOD AAAAAAA 

also more eye-strain-y version under the cut

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

MC5 - Saginaw Civic Center, Saginaw, Michigan, January 1, 1970

Since we said goodbye to John Sinclair yesterday, let's say goodbye today to Wayne Kramer, the MC5 co-founder also passed away this year. The Motor City 5 at the dawn of the damn 1970s! Things were gonna get darker during the decade ahead of them, but onstage in Saginaw on New Year's Day, they sound like true rock n roll gods.

The band's second LP, Back in the U.S.A., would be released a couple weeks later, and the band tears through a fair amount of that LP, in addition to plenty of stuff from the debut. Kramer is on fire throughout, dueling marvelously with his six-string comrade Fred "Sonic" Smith, kicking out the jams like there was no tomorrow. Maybe there wasn't any tomorrow.

Wayne Says: The MC5 took a different tact. Although we loved Miles, we plugged into the more angry and the more passionate visceral free jazz movement of the late '60's- the music of Coltrane, Ornette and Albert Ayler and Sun Ra. Joseph Jarman (Art Ensemble of Chicago) lived next door. This was the community that we had. We were all sharing this sense of what was happening in this off-shoot of jazz that seemed to parallel what we felt what was happening conscious-wise in the streets. They were way more committed and way more passionate than what Miles did. What we were really trying to do was, in my opinion, the same thing. There was no difference between what Joseph Jarman and Charles Moore and the MC5 were doing even though we came from a guitar rock perspective and they came from a traditional jazz perspective. We were all trying to get through that door that Sun Ra opened up, that Ayler opened up, that Coltrane opened up, that Pharoah Sanders and Archie Shepp opened up. That was the music that inspired (us). That's what we were striving for.

[kocch]

when I say that Will being canonically gay in stranger things is the biggest proof we need for byler it’s not simply because we know he is gay and that’s it - there is context that comes from being in fandoms for something like 12 yrs or more. 

first of all, I’ve started watching ST because of people talking about will and byler on twitter (in july), as a person who barely knew anything about it (I didn’t even know mike and el were a couple, so I was super surprised they decided to make it romantic in s1 when I didn’t really feel like it would happen). 

i was a sherlock fan who shipped sherlock/john. i’ve shipped non-canon couples for a long time (fandom spaces are queer spaces a lot of times). i know what it feels like to read things from a text that could imply things - a text that could be queercoded, depending on interpretation. i know what it feels like to have fun with fanon and ship things that are potentially there, but not textually canon (like steddie or ronance, imo). it’s fun and it’s mostly harmless, until the writers decide to use it as queerbait to make their fandom stay with them for a long time because they’re rooting for their queer ship (i think supernatural is the worst example of this, as they confirmed the one-sided love and then killed the queer character and sent him to hell LMAOOO). those are milking the fandoms, knowing the strongest core of a fandom is the hardcore ones (many queers) and not the casual public.

i’m a big fan of hannibal, yuuri!! on ice and she-ra, three shows that are mostly queercoded until they aren’t (and they confirm the queer ship to be canon). i swear, people CAN tell. you can see when there is a creator and writer and team who truly wants to tell a queer story/relationship, even when they can’t show it openly (like hannibal or yoi). as a person of the community myself, i’ve been able to tell it was canon. it’s different from fans just shipping things, or queerbaiting, there is care and intention and writing and parallels and romantic framing and so many things that make you see that it is there.

(now, for byler i hope it’s different. every straight couple in ST has at least one kiss and i think byler HAS to have at least one (dramatic, passionate, show-stopping) kiss because it would be totally unfair if they don’t. they have to be totally and utterly canon)

what is different about byler and stranger things, compared to sherlock or other shows for the straights? 

it’s will being canonically gay. bbc sherlock would never do that. bbc sherlock would mock feelings. he would laugh about love. he would probably be even a bit homophobic, just for the sake of it.

and it’s not just will being canonically gay, it’s his love for mike being canon. i’m sure other people have said it, but will’s love for mike is NOT JUST A CRUSH. it’s not ridiculed. sure, it’s used to forward a straight ship (that is sinking), but the story is not finished yet and i want to believe that byler is endgame and the writing in s4 was meant to 1) leave things uncomplete and unseattled between mike and will, between lies and non-confessed feelings; and will being in the middle of a relationship that is sinking. 2) mike responding to will’s feelings of love and to no one else, not even el begging for him to say he loves her. 3) making EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHERS feel sorry for will. cry for will. pity will. root for will. root for GAY WILL. (people who think he is straight and he loves el don’t count, those are morons) 

will’s love for mike is LOVE in capital letters. it is not a crush. it’s never treated as something to laugh about, or something like a one-sided crush like Dustin’s crush for Max or Steve’s crush for Robin, those feelings are clearly more superficial and you can see that they’re not gonna happen from miles away. will’s love is A LOVE THAT MOVES MOUNTAINS. it’s totally romantic. deeply rooted. it’s like those loves you can see between jancy or lumax or even more jopper in s4, a love that saves one another, that makes people do crazy things, a love that is inherently part of the character, that makes them FEEL and DO and LIVE and you can’t imagine them not being in love with that person. 

these writers know how to write that type of love. each canon ship they made (even s1/2 milkvan in some ways), i’ve loved it. they know what they’re doing, how to make it feel like it’s true love even without writing grand love confessions or making them kiss every other episode. it’s in THE NARRATIVE, the things the characters do and say and imply.

and even more, about byler... something i wrote in a fic i’ll never finish but imo it’s the biggest point we can take away from will’s love and confession in s4. WILL SEES MIKE. will sees mike for who he is and loves him anyways. he sees the best and worst in him and still loves him and knows him and grounds him to reality and tells Mike how he could be the best version of himself, pushing him to fight for it (you are the heart). will’s love is ancient and deep, it’s a love that we don’t even know when it started, it’s always been there, it’s always been part of will (and part of mike, because it IS MUTUAL). it’s like breathing. like the sun every morning, it’s just there. it’s not going away. it’s not even a choice, at this point, there is an helplessness in the love will feels - it’s too big and too much for him he would love to run away from it, but still he can’t deny his heart. 

and that’s why i think byler is endgame. because will is canonically gay, and he is in love, and no one is making fun of him for that. his love for mike is serious, profound, romantic, genuine. it makes you cry and root for him. it’s LOVE. the strongest of forces. and every byler scene is made with care. it’s never taken lightly, not even their fights, they always matter. there is no mocking in there. no sneer. it’s treated genuinely. almost like the creators are telling you: “look here, look at them, it matters. it matters to them and it should matter to you. there is something serious brewing here, and it is romantic love”

[teecupangel]

Hi Teecup!

I hate to add to your pile of asks, but I've just started watching Star Trek TNG and it made me wonder... what about a AssCreed × Star Trek crossover?

To be more precise, the kind of crossover I'm thinking of is one where we take the characters of AC and mix them with the premise of Star Trek, so everyone is hanging out on a starship and getting dragged into random adventures on a weekly basis.

We can separate the Assassins and Templars into Starfleet and Romulans if we want to keep the fight between the two going, though I'm actually more interested in seeing a situation where there is no reason to fight so those factions no longer exist, and everyone is allowed to interact and make friends with whoever they wish.

Also since I want to keep the joke of isekai protagonist Desmond going, maybe he gets transported into this parallel universe after dying and finds himself face to face with the Star Trek versions of all his ancestors, as well as... himself?

As long as you don't mind the long wait to get to your asks, just pile them in my asks hahahaha

We do have this Q is Desmond’s real father idea before because William Miles’s voice actor played Q and that includes Desmond getting sent to Stark Trek ‘verse.

So for this one, we’re going for AC cast in Star Trek but with the caveat that Desmond gets transported there from his previous world just to annoy him (and probably save his life but he can never be sure about that)

For this one, I like the idea that the Templars and Assassins have finally buried the hatchet because one of the main point of Star Trek (especially the early ones) is that humanity managed to unite. Of course, we can still make some of the Templars Romulans if we want to preserve the ‘antagonist’ route but imagine Desmond’s “????” whenever he learns that Templars he knew as super bad news have formed relationships with the Assassins ranging from “I don’t want to ally with them but they’re good at their job” to “besties!”

Desmond would feel a bit weirded out when Ezio just sigh when he learned they would be allying with a ship that has Cesare Borgia as a high ranking officer. He knows that Cesare’s probably on their side but he’s curious why Ezio looked less like he wants to kill him and more like he’s already tired just thinking about dealing with him.

Then he learned the reason why Ezio looked like that.

‘Allegedly’, Ezio slept with Cesare’s sister, Lucrezia Borgia during one of their downtime in the Borgia’s home planet. And nooooo, this wasn’t a case of “You fucked my sister, you must die!” revenge story. That would not have been complicated enough for Ezio’s messy love life. The problem was… Cesare didn’t get to join Ezio and his sister. Yeah, that’s it. Cesare wasn’t angry at Ezio. He was trying to get in Ezio’s pants (“Of course, we’ll invite my sister”) and Ezio is just… he’s done. He’s soooo done with everything. Fuck being the primary communication liaison of the crew. He’s gonna hide in his room and call his BFF back in his homeplanet (there’s a bet going on if said BFF was “the one who got away” – No that was his childhood sweetheart Cristina- or the “he doesn’t know he’s in love with his BFF or vice versa”)

My primary idea for the crew and a little bit of sprinkled lore:

The name of the ship would probably be Aquila to hammer in the bird motif. Another sorta weird names would be names used to talk about a group of eagles like convocation or eyrie or aerie. Or just go for Alamut which some call “Nest of Eagles”.

Edward Kenway is the Captain. He can be Haytham’s father and Ratonhnhaké:ton’s grandfather, a humanoid with long life and a thirst for adventure. In this life, he’s drinking buddies with Alaya and is also friends with Roberts. To make it funnier, he’s actually John Standish’s godfather (who is the son of Roberts and Haytham’s childhood friend)

Haytham is the First Officer because the entire crew (including his father) lives to make his life stressful. He’s married to Kaniehtí:io and their eldest joined the crew. There’s joke of nepotism because of this but it’s all said in a teasing manner because the Kenway men gets the job done. He trained Charles Lee (and the rest of his Templar Order) when they were fresh new ‘graduates’ so they like to call him Master Kenway.

Ratonhnhaké:ton is the Navigator and is being trained to be the Helmsman by the current Helmsman Adéwalé. He can usually be found talking to Ezio or Aveline. He’s really good at combat so he mostly join offworld missions which is why…

Aveline is the second Navigator in case Ratonhnhaké:ton is offworld. She’s also their offworld liaison if Ezio is not available. Sometimes, she also takes over the Communications Officer’s jobs. The crew is not entirely sure what her actual job is??? (Her parents divorced and her mother is alive. She and her stepmother are close as well and her stepmother is the Captain of another ship)

Adéwalé is the Helmsman and he had been ‘sailing’ with Edward for so long that Edward rarely had to give specific orders. Adéwalé is already doing what Edward wanted. It gives Haytham a headache because ‘communication’ is important, especially for reports and such. Adéwalé takes Ratonhnhaké:ton under his wing and Ratonhnhaké:ton calls him Uncle Ade.

The Science (technically called Research and Development Department) Division is under Altaïr’s complete control and no Kenway can go against him. He wants to go offworld to research one thing or another, he’s joining the offworld team. He wants them to take a pit stop in one of the colonies or world for materials or something, the ship would change course. Desmond didn’t even question it when he heard of it. He just said “… yeah, that sounds about right.” and moved along. The funny thing? Altaïr isn’t the Chief Science Officer. That’s the long suffering Malik Al-Sayf. Altaïr’s official position is “Second Officer”. He has an academic rivalry going on with Robert de Sablé and he still sends letter to his grandfather who is a high ranking government official of the United Federations of Planet.

Ezio is the Chief Communications Officer and he’s always part of the offworld teams (unless something comes up). He comes from a long line of Starfleet officers. His siblings are stationed in other ships and his father is a member of the United Federations of Planet.

Shay is the Security Chief and it is the second most stressful job (after Haytham) trying to keep the peace and order of the ship (okay, that’s an exaggeration). Most of the time, he just makes sure everyone is okay and safe whenever shit hits the fan. He’s pretty chill and is Haytham’s drinking buddy. He still writes to his mentor Achilles who taught him everything and to his childhood friend who joined another ship Liam.

Arno is part of the Chief Tactical Officer and he has a close professional relationship with Evie and Altaïr mainly because those two takes care of weapon upgrade… and other… uuuhh… ‘stuff’ their missions might need. He has a fiancee who is a high ranking officer of Starfleet.

Evie is the Chief Engineering Officer and is Altaïr’s number one supporter. Edward once joked that if Altaïr was to mutiny, they would be fucked because Evie would be first in line in shutting down all the engines and any security procotol they have in place. Ezio would like to stress it was more of a ‘mentor and student’ kind of thing. Desmond learned that Altaïr also had his hands on the Engineering Department and is like “yeah, that tracks too.” Evie has a rivalry going on with Lucy Thorne and her twin would just comment that they should sleep together once and get it over with.

Jacob is usually the captain of the offworld team unless a higher ranking officer joins then he’s the vice-captain. Close to Arno because he’s always asking for new ‘toys’ to play with. May or may not have a son who may or may not be adopted called Jack. The crew isn’t sure if he’s Jacob’s son or his protege.

I’m missing a few more main characters and the modern day characters so uuuhh… they’re there, I just couldn’t think of a position for them XD.

(I kept their species vague so you can make them any race you want. I will suggest that Altaïr be half-Vulcan though because he feels very Vulcan-ish but, honestly, pick whichever feels right for you or what would make you go “you know what would be fun”? XD)

[tracybirds]

Where Parallel Lines Meet (1/?)

oh boy, I’m exceptionally nervous to begin posting this one. It’s a longer fic and so I’m trying to do it all right and proper. I’m going to try update at least once a fortnight because that sounds manageable. I’d not been excited about any of my stories before I began this one and I’m really excited and hope that you enjoy the adventure :) Many thanks to @gumnut-logic for reading it over :D

Title is adapted from a line in Sarah Howes’ poem ‘Relativity’ (scroll to the bottom of the article)

A fight between John and Alan is followed by an interstellar storm with unexpected consequences.

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5] | [Part 6] | [Part 7]

---

“I just don’t understand how this could have happened,” growled John, a furious hand swiping through the backlog of missing assignments. “He has time to work on school every day.”

“Every day, John?” asked Scott. His brows knitted together over his piercing blue eyes, the troubled expression deepening as he reflected on recent weeks. “Look at his call-outs, we’ve been relying on him more and more ever since the Chaos Crew appeared. We’ve needed him, and he’s barely getting any more recovery than the rest of us.”

He was right. Scott was right and now that he’d pointed it out, John couldn’t understand how he’d missed it.

He closed the file, ignoring Scott’s pestering, digging down into the code to discover why his computer programs had failed him so thoroughly.

“Look at this,” he said, his voice deathly quiet. “He hacked the alert system so that it showed him working the right number of hours.”

Scott inhaled sharply, twisting his head as though he could peer over John’s shoulder from three hundred miles away. It would have been comical if it weren’t for the blood that was pounding in John’s ears.

He forwarded the data.

Scott whistled.

“Look here, he was in Argentina then, and here I know he was asleep, that was after that back-to-back in the Mediterranean, Virgil said he conked out on the way home and gave him a 48-hour stand-down.”

Scott looked up and met his eyes.

“How’d we miss this?”

John clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the tendrils of fury that were wrapped around his heart. He didn’t need Scott to point out that monitoring call-outs was his job, didn’t need him to remind him that this was in fact his fault.

“This isn’t your fault,” said Scott, instantly reading the sour expression on his brother’s face.

“More mine than yours,” said John with a scowl. “Why didn’t he say anything?”

The muttered question was meant to be rhetorical, but Scott couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips.

“Really, John? If you were still sixteen and some rock star older brother said he needed your help to be a superhero, are you telling me you wouldn’t drop everything to ditch school in a heartbeat?”

“You’ve never been much of a rock star,” John sniped at him.

“You’d have dropped out faster than it takes Thunderbird One to go supersonic and you know it,” said Scott with a smirk. “You’d have done anything I asked you to do.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You gave up NASA for me, Johnny.”

“I gave up NASA for Thunderbird Five.”

“And I suppose working with us was just a perk,” said Scott, rolling his eyes good-humouredly. His expression grew serious. “You sure you can handle Alan? I can wrangle him for you if you need the support.”

John sighed, mind flitting back to the report that had finally caught the issue.

“It should be fine,” he said with no small amount of reluctance. “Alan knows how important high school is, he’s been working towards an early-track finish for two years now.”

Scott shot him a quick smile.

“Good, because he’s just arrived for breakfast. See you soon, Johnny.”

“Bye,” said John tonelessly, already reading through the list again.

It didn’t matter what Scott said, he blamed himself. Alan’s lessons were his domain and, in the constant chaos of deliberate sabotage and criminal destruction that they’d been trailing for the past several months, he’d let them slip to the bottom of his pile of concerns. All that had mattered was managing the near constant barrage of rescues and the stream of operations that meant he had hardly known who was coming and who was going down on the island below.

He wasn’t certain he’d even managed to speak to his brothers outside of rescues in the last fortnight, his days morphing together in a continuous flow of work and sleep and work and work.

“Alan,” he called, bypassing the message notification in favour of direct contact.

His brother startled, knocking an unknown object across the table.

“John!” he said, eyes widening before he relaxed into a smile. “How’s space?”

His usual response stuck in his throat, the words turning to chalk on his tongue.

“Do you have a minute?” he said instead, the flat tone brokering no discussion. “We need to talk.”

Alan frowned, his eyes flitting to someone – Scott – who stood off-view.

“Sure,” he said, dredging his agreement up from unwilling depths. “Now, or…? Only I was gonna meet up with Brandon online for a thing.”

“Now,” said John firmly.

There was no point delaying the inevitable. He sent the assignment log.

A sharp ping echoed in the holo, and John watched grimly as Alan looked down and stared at the file that now sat in his hands.

“This is… oh.”

John saw more than heard the words that Alan caught in his chest, the shaky inhale barely enough to make the air shudder. He watched as his youngest brother shook himself, eyes sharpening with anxiety as he glanced up. Full-blown panic erupted across his face, and John had to work to school his own expression of empathy at the sudden, forcible reminder of his undergraduate days when he had vastly underestimated the time requirements of his own assignments.

But even that had been careless foolishness rather than carefully considered and deliberate dishonesty.

John felt like a fool today as well.

“I can explain!”

“You don’t need to explain,” snapped John. “I know how this happened. You ignored the limits we put in place; you failed to uphold the one condition we gave you when you started as an operative in International Rescue; you hacked our safety systems because you thought you knew better than me.”

“Just listen–”

“You don’t get to talk right now, Alan,” he roared, and the line fell silent.

He breathed heavily, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Did you deliberately change the learning program so that it reflected a false record of your work ethic.”

“Yes, but–”

“And did you,” said John loudly, ignoring Alan’s protestations, “do this specifically so that I wouldn’t know that you’d been skipping your lessons.”

“I guess technically, but–”

“And is that list correct in saying that you have failed to hand it complete work for the last thirty-eight assignments.”

“I was just trying to help!”

“Well, you didn’t,” John snapped, eyes flashing. “When will you get it through your head that we’re responsible for you. That your schooling is the most important thing in your life, over and above your responsibilities to International Rescue.”

Alan scoffed, mumbling as he turned away from John.

“Want to try that again?” John asked, venom coating his tongue.

“I said ‘that’s easy for you to say’,” shouted Alan, his hands curled in fists. “What do you know, you don’t even come down anymore. You don’t care about my lessons; you don’t help me with them. I can’t ask you when you’re monitoring, I can’t ask when you’re asleep – what did you want me to do? International Rescue is the only thing you even care about anymore, so why shouldn’t I?”

“There’s no shortcuts for this,” snarled John, trying to forget the way his father’s words echoed in his head after they’d traitorously left his mouth. “You can’t cut corners when it comes to your education, it’ll only hurt us all in the long run. It’ll only hurt you.”

“You don’t know anything,” yelled Alan.

John wrenched open his mouth in furious response, then paused as Alan’s image wavered, shot through with sudden flecks of light.

He held up a hand and silenced Alan’s indignant tirade, ignoring the soundless outraged squawk and furious typing that ensued. His attention was captured by the insistent malfunction that blazed brightly across the image. He checked his equipment meticulously for hardware faults and a quick glance through the error logs indicated no reason for the sudden failure.

The answer came in a flash when he blinked and the light streaked across his vision behind his eyelids.

The silence shattered as Alan shattered his mute command, the indignity of being cut off too great to bear.

“I wasn’t finished.”

“Be quiet, Alan,” John ordered, no longer entertaining thoughts of past arguments. “EOS, check Cherenkov radiation levels, correlate against solar activity.”

“Cherenkov radiation levels at 508%, limited correlation with solar activity which peaked with an intensity of 1.048 four days ago compared to expected levels.”

“Compute likely origin of unknown radiation.”

“No change in the Earth’s magnetosphere; it is continuing to deflect the majority of solar and Jovian activity. Likely origin is interstellar.”

“Check other background radiation counts.”

“Cosmic rays increasing in intensity and the ICNO is reporting a spike in neutrino activity. Beta and gamma counts ticking upwards. Recommend immediate shelter. Radiation storm incoming with 98% probability of impact within fifteen minutes.”

John swore. EOS wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.

“This conversation is not over,” he snapped in Alan’s direction.

He hardly glimpsed his brother’s stricken expression as he killed the holoprojector and swung himself towards the radiation refuge at the heart of his ‘bird.

“Are you backed up, EOS?”

His voice echoed around him as the space station slowed to a halt. Gentle vibrations stilled, the background hum of his home fading into nothingness.

“I am.”

EOS sounded more disembodied than ever, with no way to jump to the internal circuitry kept separate and reserved only for the temporary lead-lined shelter. John blinked as a dim red glow activated, revealing the small metal room. There was no bed, only a series of Velcro straps to hold him down should the storm outlast his ability to stay awake. A selection of old school paperbacks was locked in a cabinet, and John propelled himself towards them, running a gloved hand over the latch.

He continued circling the room, taking a moment to check on the dehydrated food supplies and emergency oxygen tanks, before turning to face the door, lights still flashing behind his eyes.

“Sensors are functional,” he said softly. “I’ll see you soon.”

EOS said nothing, her array hovering at the threshold.

“John? Will you be okay?”

He tried not to think about the game of chance he was playing, living in a home where any second a stray cosmic ray might collide with his DNA and reshape it forever.

“Always am. Commence Protocol XR-4.”

“Communication blackout confirmed,” she said. “Gravity ring disengaged. Oxygen supplies have been mixed with inert gas tanks. All systems shut down in safe mode.”

The list went on, with none of EOS’s usual dynamics. John felt a twinge of pride at her efficiency and then of fear as it drove home the very real danger of the storm that was only minutes away, that had indeed already begun.

“Thank you, EOS,” he said quietly. “See you on the other side.”

“Goodbye John.”

The door swung shut, leaving him blinking in the subdued glow. He suddenly missed the gravity of Earth, feeling the need to sink into a chair, sink down into his very bones and collapse under the weight of the lingering fight with his brother.

“Stupid,” he whispered, unsure if he meant Alan or himself.

There was no sense in dissecting the situation but John couldn’t help playing the scene over and over; stuck in a tiny room with starlight shimmering behind his eyes like a prism hung in a window. The lead might protect him from the radiation, but heavy metal atoms were nothing to the tiny slips of neutrino matter, the only indication of the silent, raging storm.

He wished he could have said something different, that he’d been able to make Alan see reason. That he’d been empathetic instead of angry, understanding instead of terrified.

He wondered if there was anything else he wasn’t seeing, if he had a blind spot for each brother.

Thus the long hours passed, John flitting between worries that plagued his restless mind. He couldn’t sleep, wasn’t truly awake, and he couldn’t forget the universal barrage outside that had travelled for longer than he’d been alive.

He never let his helmet leave his hand. He never let his last conversation leave his mind.

Just another worry.

In time, the light show began to die down and he turned his attention to the radiation sensors that would dictate his final escape.

“Come on,” he whispered to himself. “Just another three sieverts.”

The slow drop in radiation took hours to tick down to an acceptable level, but the final shift in numbers happened in milliseconds.

At once, the lights brightened and John somersaulted to the door, staggering as it flung him outwards with little effort. He wasted no time, racing to the central control dome and running through restart with a fresh fervour alight under his skin, unable to wait to bring Thunderbird Five back to life. He resurrected gravity, he woke EOS from her last save point, he revived the giant monitoring screen showcasing a world who needed them. With comms back up and running, John couldn’t help but cast an eye over what they’d missed.

“John?”

“Virgil,” he greeted, hardly pausing to look up at his brother.

He heard a soft chuckle.

“So the radiation didn’t kill you then?” said Virgil drily.

“We’ll find out in sixty years.”

“Get down here. Five can wait.”

John shot him a poisonous look and Virgil held up his hands in surrender.

“These are your protocols, not mine. Check the levels, this is the worst radiation storm to hit Thunderbird Five ever. Brains heard from Moffie, the particle physicists are all over this. And the auroras are incredible, they’re being seen worldwide. Besides, you need a full genetic work-up and, if you’re good, I’ll even let you look at the observatory data.”

“It was all recorded?”

“Arrived about a second after communication with Tracy Island was re-established.”

John grinned, backlog momentarily forgotten and already envisioning the years of research others would develop from the day’s data when it went public.

But it wasn’t enough to survive the apprehension that gnawed at his gut.

“How’s Alan?”

Virgil grimaced.

“Catching up on schoolwork. Scott ripped him a new one about lying to you and how we needed to be able to trust him once you fell offline. And he was freaked by the storm – you cutting him off so quickly scared him, I think.”

“I shouldn’t have lost it.”

Virgil shrugged.

“Maybe not. But trust me, it’s forgotten; he’s just happy you didn’t die up there.”

John sighed, glancing down at the planet that lazily spun beneath his feet. It shone a brilliant blue under the light of the sun and he knew that somewhere below the swirling clouds his brother was waiting for him. They all were.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m heading down.”

As the elevator slipped into the atmosphere, John felt a bone-crushing weariness settle upon him. The day had been long, much longer than his usual fare, and the hours of tension and worries about Alan were quickly dragging him down faster than gravity could account for.

He waved everyone away when he hit landfall, allowing Virgil to half-steer and half-carry him to his room, where he crawled under the bed covers and fell asleep even has Virgil was running his tests.

He didn’t hear Scott slip in, didn’t hear the low, hushed voices at the foot of his bed.  The small figure that crept into his room and lay down on the rug next to his bed long after the rest of the house noise died away remained unknown to him.

No sound penetrated the fog of dreamless sleep.

[Part 2]

[paperlovesadness]

Hey, hi & welcome to my corner of Tumblr!

(I'm sorry. Nostalgia made me do it. A little kitsch never killed nobody).

Who am I? What will you find here? What do I post? [Find out below]

Who am I?

She/her • Queer • Capricorn • Somewhere within the EU • 28 yo • Cat person • A hopeless romantic on the inside - a very sarcastic person on the outside. But this is my place to unironically dip into that first one.

I love music with every fibre of my being and decided I want to delve more into talking about it too - which is the origins of this blog. But then - of course - hyperobsessions took over so maybe it's more themed than initially planned (but who cares! That's what this place is here for).

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What will you find here?

Lots of love for and obsessing over:

The Last Shadow Puppets (!)

The Arctic Monkeys

Miles Kane

Also just Alex Turner & all his projects (& his outfits. And his hands. And his love for Miles Kane)

The Beatles (Paul! John! Paul & John!) +

Possibly posts about other dead & retired bands & musicians

Just tons of crazy theories and searches for connections and parallels.

And in general probably quite long rants (I write A LOT & can never contain the amount)

But yeah. This is currently just... A lot of crying over TLSP & milex with a dash of Beatles.

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Some of my little on-going tag series:

TLSPxBeatles - where I collect all the little similarities & references & parallels between Miles & Alex and John & Paul

Al the Capricorn gal - as the name suggests - a collection of times where I find Alex to be very Capricorn (yes I love to track these because I'm one too & love to relate)

Just Twin Flame Things - a collection of posts I find that give off the twin flame vibe. Usually Miles & Alex. Might be John & Paul and other musicians too though sometimes.

Theories - generally being slightly unhinged & letting my conspiracy pattern loving brain roam wild.

Lyric parallels - just pointing out patterns I find between TLSP/MK/AM lyrics. Or reposting other people's observations

Blog stuff - just random bloggy posts (not often. But it happens).

Screaming and adding actual coherent functional tags later - this one is just the times I screamed about something current happening and then went back later to make it searchable for me. So go here if you want a good laugh about my panic fangirl screams. Or just thoughts on current fandom events.

My posts - just generally all the posts I make in one place.

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A few of my posts:

Miles & Alex are Twin Flames

Song theories / analyzing lyrics [series]

Thoughts about seeing AM live

[aroundtheworldwithphillyfogg]

December 8th: in which Verne is bored and compares indigenous to animals twice

The train pursued its course, that evening, without interruption, passing Fort Saunders, crossing Cheyne Pass, and reaching Evans Pass. The road here attained the highest elevation of the journey, eight thousand and ninety-two feet above the level of the sea. The travellers had now only to descend to the Atlantic by limitless plains, levelled by nature. A branch of the “grand trunk” led off southward to Denver, the capital of Colorado. The country round about is rich in gold and silver, and more than fifty thousand inhabitants are already settled there.

Thirteen hundred and eighty-two miles had been passed over from San Francisco, in three days and three nights; four days and nights more would probably bring them to New York. Phileas Fogg was not as yet behind-hand.

During the night Camp Walbach was passed on the left; Lodge Pole Creek ran parallel with the road, marking the boundary between the territories of Wyoming and Colorado. They entered Nebraska at eleven, passed near Sedgwick, and touched at Julesburg, on the southern branch of the Platte River.

It was here that the Union Pacific Railroad was inaugurated on the 23rd of October, 1867, by the chief engineer, General Dodge. Two powerful locomotives, carrying nine cars of invited guests, amongst whom was Thomas C. Durant, vice-president of the road, stopped at this point; cheers were given, the Sioux and Pawnees performed an imitation Indian battle, fireworks were let off, and the first number of the Railway Pioneer was printed by a press brought on the train. Thus was celebrated the inauguration of this great railroad, a mighty instrument of progress and civilisation, thrown across the desert, and destined to link together cities and towns which do not yet exist. The whistle of the locomotive, more powerful than Amphion’s lyre, was about to bid them rise from American soil.

Fort McPherson was left behind at eight in the morning, and three hundred and fifty-seven miles had yet to be traversed before reaching Omaha. The road followed the capricious windings of the southern branch of the Platte River, on its left bank. At nine the train stopped at the important town of North Platte, built between the two arms of the river, which rejoin each other around it and form a single artery, a large tributary, whose waters empty into the Missouri a little above Omaha.

The one hundred and first meridian was passed.

Mr. Fogg and his partners had resumed their game; no one—not even the dummy—complained of the length of the trip. Fix had begun by winning several guineas, which he seemed likely to lose; but he showed himself a not less eager whist-player than Mr. Fogg. During the morning, chance distinctly favoured that gentleman. Trumps and honours were showered upon his hands.

Once, having resolved on a bold stroke, he was on the point of playing a spade, when a voice behind him said, “I should play a diamond.”

Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix raised their heads, and beheld Colonel Proctor.

Stamp Proctor and Phileas Fogg recognised each other at once.

“Ah! it’s you, is it, Englishman?” cried the colonel; “it’s you who are going to play a spade!”

“And who plays it,” replied Phileas Fogg coolly, throwing down the ten of spades.

“Well, it pleases me to have it diamonds,” replied Colonel Proctor, in an insolent tone.

He made a movement as if to seize the card which had just been played, adding, “You don’t understand anything about whist.”

“Perhaps I do, as well as another,” said Phileas Fogg, rising.

“You have only to try, son of John Bull,” replied the colonel.

Aouda turned pale, and her blood ran cold. She seized Mr. Fogg’s arm and gently pulled him back. Passepartout was ready to pounce upon the American, who was staring insolently at his opponent. But Fix got up, and, going to Colonel Proctor said, “You forget that it is I with whom you have to deal, sir; for it was I whom you not only insulted, but struck!”

“Mr. Fix,” said Mr. Fogg, “pardon me, but this affair is mine, and mine only. The colonel has again insulted me, by insisting that I should not play a spade, and he shall give me satisfaction for it.”

“When and where you will,” replied the American, “and with whatever weapon you choose.”

Aouda in vain attempted to retain Mr. Fogg; as vainly did the detective endeavour to make the quarrel his. Passepartout wished to throw the colonel out of the window, but a sign from his master checked him. Phileas Fogg left the car, and the American followed him upon the platform. “Sir,” said Mr. Fogg to his adversary, “I am in a great hurry to get back to Europe, and any delay whatever will be greatly to my disadvantage.”

“Well, what’s that to me?” replied Colonel Proctor.

“Sir,” said Mr. Fogg, very politely, “after our meeting at San Francisco, I determined to return to America and find you as soon as I had completed the business which called me to England.”

“Really!”

“Will you appoint a meeting for six months hence?”

“Why not ten years hence?”

“I say six months,” returned Phileas Fogg; “and I shall be at the place of meeting promptly.”

“All this is an evasion,” cried Stamp Proctor. “Now or never!”

“Very good. You are going to New York?”

“No.”

“To Chicago?”

“No.”

“To Omaha?”

“What difference is it to you? Do you know Plum Creek?”

“No,” replied Mr. Fogg.

“It’s the next station. The train will be there in an hour, and will stop there ten minutes. In ten minutes several revolver-shots could be exchanged.”

“Very well,” said Mr. Fogg. “I will stop at Plum Creek.”

“And I guess you’ll stay there too,” added the American insolently.

“Who knows?” replied Mr. Fogg, returning to the car as coolly as usual. He began to reassure Aouda, telling her that blusterers were never to be feared, and begged Fix to be his second at the approaching duel, a request which the detective could not refuse. Mr. Fogg resumed the interrupted game with perfect calmness.

At eleven o’clock the locomotive’s whistle announced that they were approaching Plum Creek station. Mr. Fogg rose, and, followed by Fix, went out upon the platform. Passepartout accompanied him, carrying a pair of revolvers. Aouda remained in the car, as pale as death.

The door of the next car opened, and Colonel Proctor appeared on the platform, attended by a Yankee of his own stamp as his second. But just as the combatants were about to step from the train, the conductor hurried up, and shouted, “You can’t get off, gentlemen!”

“Why not?” asked the colonel.

“We are twenty minutes late, and we shall not stop.”

“But I am going to fight a duel with this gentleman.”

“I am sorry,” said the conductor; “but we shall be off at once. There’s the bell ringing now.”

The train started.

“I’m really very sorry, gentlemen,” said the conductor. “Under any other circumstances I should have been happy to oblige you. But, after all, as you have not had time to fight here, why not fight as we go along?”

“That wouldn’t be convenient, perhaps, for this gentleman,” said the colonel, in a jeering tone.

“It would be perfectly so,” replied Phileas Fogg.

“Well, we are really in America,” thought Passepartout, “and the conductor is a gentleman of the first order!”

So muttering, he followed his master.

The two combatants, their seconds, and the conductor passed through the cars to the rear of the train. The last car was only occupied by a dozen passengers, whom the conductor politely asked if they would not be so kind as to leave it vacant for a few moments, as two gentlemen had an affair of honour to settle. The passengers granted the request with alacrity, and straightway disappeared on the platform.

The car, which was some fifty feet long, was very convenient for their purpose. The adversaries might march on each other in the aisle, and fire at their ease. Never was duel more easily arranged. Mr. Fogg and Colonel Proctor, each provided with two six-barrelled revolvers, entered the car. The seconds, remaining outside, shut them in. They were to begin firing at the first whistle of the locomotive. After an interval of two minutes, what remained of the two gentlemen would be taken from the car.

Nothing could be more simple. Indeed, it was all so simple that Fix and Passepartout felt their hearts beating as if they would crack. They were listening for the whistle agreed upon, when suddenly savage cries resounded in the air, accompanied by reports which certainly did not issue from the car where the duellists were. The reports continued in front and the whole length of the train. Cries of terror proceeded from the interior of the cars.

Colonel Proctor and Mr. Fogg, revolvers in hand, hastily quitted their prison, and rushed forward where the noise was most clamorous. They then perceived that the train was attacked by a band of Sioux.

This was not the first attempt of these daring Indians, for more than once they had waylaid trains on the road. A hundred of them had, according to their habit, jumped upon the steps without stopping the train, with the ease of a clown mounting a horse at full gallop.

The Sioux were armed with guns, from which came the reports, to which the passengers, who were almost all armed, responded by revolver-shots.

The Indians had first mounted the engine, and half stunned the engineer and stoker with blows from their muskets. A Sioux chief, wishing to stop the train, but not knowing how to work the regulator, had opened wide instead of closing the steam-valve, and the locomotive was plunging forward with terrific velocity.

The Sioux had at the same time invaded the cars, skipping like enraged monkeys over the roofs, thrusting open the doors, and fighting hand to hand with the passengers. Penetrating the baggage-car, they pillaged it, throwing the trunks out of the train. The cries and shots were constant. The travellers defended themselves bravely; some of the cars were barricaded, and sustained a siege, like moving forts, carried along at a speed of a hundred miles an hour.

Aouda behaved courageously from the first. She defended herself like a true heroine with a revolver, which she shot through the broken windows whenever a savage made his appearance. Twenty Sioux had fallen mortally wounded to the ground, and the wheels crushed those who fell upon the rails as if they had been worms. Several passengers, shot or stunned, lay on the seats.

It was necessary to put an end to the struggle, which had lasted for ten minutes, and which would result in the triumph of the Sioux if the train was not stopped. Fort Kearney station, where there was a garrison, was only two miles distant; but, that once passed, the Sioux would be masters of the train between Fort Kearney and the station beyond.

The conductor was fighting beside Mr. Fogg, when he was shot and fell. At the same moment he cried, “Unless the train is stopped in five minutes, we are lost!”

“It shall be stopped,” said Phileas Fogg, preparing to rush from the car.

“Stay, monsieur,” cried Passepartout; “I will go.”

Mr. Fogg had not time to stop the brave fellow, who, opening a door unperceived by the Indians, succeeded in slipping under the car; and while the struggle continued and the balls whizzed across each other over his head, he made use of his old acrobatic experience, and with amazing agility worked his way under the cars, holding on to the chains, aiding himself by the brakes and edges of the sashes, creeping from one car to another with marvellous skill, and thus gaining the forward end of the train.

There, suspended by one hand between the baggage-car and the tender, with the other he loosened the safety chains; but, owing to the traction, he would never have succeeded in unscrewing the yoking-bar, had not a violent concussion jolted this bar out. The train, now detached from the engine, remained a little behind, whilst the locomotive rushed forward with increased speed.

Carried on by the force already acquired, the train still moved for several minutes; but the brakes were worked and at last they stopped, less than a hundred feet from Kearney station.

The soldiers of the fort, attracted by the shots, hurried up; the Sioux had not expected them, and decamped in a body before the train entirely stopped.

But when the passengers counted each other on the station platform several were found missing; among others the courageous Frenchman, whose devotion had just saved them.

Three passengers including Passepartout had disappeared. Had they been killed in the struggle? Were they taken prisoners by the Sioux? It was impossible to tell.

There were many wounded, but none mortally. Colonel Proctor was one of the most seriously hurt; he had fought bravely, and a ball had entered his groin. He was carried into the station with the other wounded passengers, to receive such attention as could be of avail.

Aouda was safe; and Phileas Fogg, who had been in the thickest of the fight, had not received a scratch. Fix was slightly wounded in the arm. But Passepartout was not to be found, and tears coursed down Aouda’s cheeks.

All the passengers had got out of the train, the wheels of which were stained with blood. From the tyres and spokes hung ragged pieces of flesh. As far as the eye could reach on the white plain behind, red trails were visible. The last Sioux were disappearing in the south, along the banks of Republican River.

Mr. Fogg, with folded arms, remained motionless. He had a serious decision to make. Aouda, standing near him, looked at him without speaking, and he understood her look. If his servant was a prisoner, ought he not to risk everything to rescue him from the Indians? “I will find him, living or dead,” said he quietly to Aouda.

“Ah, Mr.—Mr. Fogg!” cried she, clasping his hands and covering them with tears.

“Living,” added Mr. Fogg, “if we do not lose a moment.”

Phileas Fogg, by this resolution, inevitably sacrificed himself; he pronounced his own doom. The delay of a single day would make him lose the steamer at New York, and his bet would be certainly lost. But as he thought, “It is my duty,” he did not hesitate.

The commanding officer of Fort Kearney was there. A hundred of his soldiers had placed themselves in a position to defend the station, should the Sioux attack it.

“Sir,” said Mr. Fogg to the captain, “three passengers have disappeared.”

“Dead?” asked the captain.

“Dead or prisoners; that is the uncertainty which must be solved. Do you propose to pursue the Sioux?”

“That’s a serious thing to do, sir,” returned the captain. “These Indians may retreat beyond the Arkansas, and I cannot leave the fort unprotected.”

“The lives of three men are in question, sir,” said Phileas Fogg.

“Doubtless; but can I risk the lives of fifty men to save three?”

“I don’t know whether you can, sir; but you ought to do so.”

“Nobody here,” returned the other, “has a right to teach me my duty.”

“Very well,” said Mr. Fogg, coldly. “I will go alone.”

“You, sir!” cried Fix, coming up; “you go alone in pursuit of the Indians?”

“Would you have me leave this poor fellow to perish—him to whom every one present owes his life? I shall go.”

“No, sir, you shall not go alone,” cried the captain, touched in spite of himself. “No! you are a brave man. Thirty volunteers!” he added, turning to the soldiers.

The whole company started forward at once. The captain had only to pick his men. Thirty were chosen, and an old sergeant placed at their head.

“Thanks, captain,” said Mr. Fogg.

“Will you let me go with you?” asked Fix.

“Do as you please, sir. But if you wish to do me a favour, you will remain with Aouda. In case anything should happen to me—”

A sudden pallor overspread the detective’s face. Separate himself from the man whom he had so persistently followed step by step! Leave him to wander about in this desert! Fix gazed attentively at Mr. Fogg, and, despite his suspicions and of the struggle which was going on within him, he lowered his eyes before that calm and frank look.

“I will stay,” said he.

A few moments after, Mr. Fogg pressed the young woman’s hand, and, having confided to her his precious carpet-bag, went off with the sergeant and his little squad. But, before going, he had said to the soldiers, “My friends, I will divide five thousand dollars among you, if we save the prisoners.”

It was then a little past noon.

Aouda retired to a waiting-room, and there she waited alone, thinking of the simple and noble generosity, the tranquil courage of Phileas Fogg. He had sacrificed his fortune, and was now risking his life, all without hesitation, from duty, in silence.

Fix did not have the same thoughts, and could scarcely conceal his agitation. He walked feverishly up and down the platform, but soon resumed his outward composure. He now saw the folly of which he had been guilty in letting Fogg go alone. What! This man, whom he had just followed around the world, was permitted now to separate himself from him! He began to accuse and abuse himself, and, as if he were director of police, administered to himself a sound lecture for his greenness.

“I have been an idiot!” he thought, “and this man will see it. He has gone, and won’t come back! But how is it that I, Fix, who have in my pocket a warrant for his arrest, have been so fascinated by him? Decidedly, I am nothing but an ass!”

So reasoned the detective, while the hours crept by all too slowly. He did not know what to do. Sometimes he was tempted to tell Aouda all; but he could not doubt how the young woman would receive his confidences. What course should he take? He thought of pursuing Fogg across the vast white plains; it did not seem impossible that he might overtake him. Footsteps were easily printed on the snow! But soon, under a new sheet, every imprint would be effaced.

Fix became discouraged. He felt a sort of insurmountable longing to abandon the game altogether. He could now leave Fort Kearney station, and pursue his journey homeward in peace.

Towards two o’clock in the afternoon, while it was snowing hard, long whistles were heard approaching from the east. A great shadow, preceded by a wild light, slowly advanced, appearing still larger through the mist, which gave it a fantastic aspect. No train was expected from the east, neither had there been time for the succour asked for by telegraph to arrive; the train from Omaha to San Francisco was not due till the next day. The mystery was soon explained.

The locomotive, which was slowly approaching with deafening whistles, was that which, having been detached from the train, had continued its route with such terrific rapidity, carrying off the unconscious engineer and stoker. It had run several miles, when, the fire becoming low for want of fuel, the steam had slackened; and it had finally stopped an hour after, some twenty miles beyond Fort Kearney. Neither the engineer nor the stoker was dead, and, after remaining for some time in their swoon, had come to themselves. The train had then stopped. The engineer, when he found himself in the desert, and the locomotive without cars, understood what had happened. He could not imagine how the locomotive had become separated from the train; but he did not doubt that the train left behind was in distress.

He did not hesitate what to do. It would be prudent to continue on to Omaha, for it would be dangerous to return to the train, which the Indians might still be engaged in pillaging. Nevertheless, he began to rebuild the fire in the furnace; the pressure again mounted, and the locomotive returned, running backwards to Fort Kearney. This it was which was whistling in the mist.

The travellers were glad to see the locomotive resume its place at the head of the train. They could now continue the journey so terribly interrupted.

Aouda, on seeing the locomotive come up, hurried out of the station, and asked the conductor, “Are you going to start?”

“At once, madam.”

“But the prisoners, our unfortunate fellow-travellers—”

“I cannot interrupt the trip,” replied the conductor. “We are already three hours behind time.”

“And when will another train pass here from San Francisco?”

“To-morrow evening, madam.”

“To-morrow evening! But then it will be too late! We must wait—”

“It is impossible,” responded the conductor. “If you wish to go, please get in.”

“I will not go,” said Aouda.

Fix had heard this conversation. A little while before, when there was no prospect of proceeding on the journey, he had made up his mind to leave Fort Kearney; but now that the train was there, ready to start, and he had only to take his seat in the car, an irresistible influence held him back. The station platform burned his feet, and he could not stir. The conflict in his mind again began; anger and failure stifled him. He wished to struggle on to the end.

Meanwhile the passengers and some of the wounded, among them Colonel Proctor, whose injuries were serious, had taken their places in the train. The buzzing of the over-heated boiler was heard, and the steam was escaping from the valves. The engineer whistled, the train started, and soon disappeared, mingling its white smoke with the eddies of the densely falling snow.

The detective had remained behind.

Several hours passed. The weather was dismal, and it was very cold. Fix sat motionless on a bench in the station; he might have been thought asleep. Aouda, despite the storm, kept coming out of the waiting-room, going to the end of the platform, and peering through the tempest of snow, as if to pierce the mist which narrowed the horizon around her, and to hear, if possible, some welcome sound. She heard and saw nothing. Then she would return, chilled through, to issue out again after the lapse of a few moments, but always in vain.

Evening came, and the little band had not returned. Where could they be? Had they found the Indians, and were they having a conflict with them, or were they still wandering amid the mist? The commander of the fort was anxious, though he tried to conceal his apprehensions. As night approached, the snow fell less plentifully, but it became intensely cold. Absolute silence rested on the plains. Neither flight of bird nor passing of beast troubled the perfect calm.

[hms-tardimpala]

@hurdygurdywizard you asked me to say more, and it got out of hand and way too big for the comment section so here's what I wrote:

But Wiz, if I say more it's going to become tangible and I'm scared I'll write it! I have a thing for sad gay stories set in the trenches of WW1, that's a fact. I've read and written some stuff, and I am not entirely devoid of knowledge, it's true. So, just for the fun of kicking the ball around:

the front of WW1 is perfect for exploring several themes. I can subtitute class divide (private/officer) for the angel/human dynamic, for ex

the trenches are a place where (gay) men are taken away from the heterosexual society and expectations that weighed on them (such as marriage) and at the same time driven to the human extremes in a homosociety where everything hinges on repression (of the self, of trauma, of pain, of FREE WILL)

Cas can be landed gentry escaping a marriage of convenience and given an officer rank because of his social rank/his father's status (his father is of course a very intimidating and god-like figure) despite not having the skills (Dean despises him)

Dean can be a lower-class man enlisting for a steady pay/to escape an abusive father/to protect his absolutist little brother. He throws himself into the war with skill and rage to stop himself from thinking too much about ~things~ but it only make him more Not Okay. His superiors take advantage of his skill to use him for increasingly dangerous missions (a parallel between one officer in particular and John Winchester could be made here) but his constant covering for his brother/the rule violation he has to engage in to protect him keep him well in the lower ranks.

this is as close to fitting in Dean has ever been, and yet he could be shot at the first sign of desire for another man. He happens to be surrounded by men, bonding with them, and goig through the most harrowing things possible with them.

thanks to his brother being the breadwinner before the war, Sam was able to stay in school and educate himself longer. He has political beliefs, refuses to die in a war for his government and tries to convince other soldiers they don't have to. His letters home (to Jess? Eileen?) are systematically censored.

queer desire everywhere, slow burn possible and even mandatory

I can be as french about it as I bloody want!!!

the only issue is the female characters, but I can use what little there are to give a perspective on how things are at home, and the role women have to take on during the war, with burgeonning women's rights ideas.

preliminary inspiration sources: Maurice, How Many Miles to Babylon, the Absolutist, the british poets of the Lost Generation.

Shit! I REFUSE to write it! I'm good at concepts, but not at writing, and I would never finish it! AFDHMJKHKhji

[dothwrites]

i always forget just how MUCH happens in when the levee breaks. it's a really well paced episode because the start and end point are MILES away from each other, but it doesn't feel rushed. and that's a feat indeed.

i love each one of sam's hallucinations. they're all meant to break him down and reinforce everything that he's already thinking. they leave him with basically nothing, and they're so soul-crushing to watch

even when they are at odds, dean and cas are incapable of standing less than two feet away from each other. they stand SO CLOSE all the time.

cas is SUCH a drama queen. it would have taken him two steps to go over and shut the door manually but instead he had to use his telekinetic powers. DRAMA MAMA.

my main problem with anna is that she never really lived up to her potential. she could have been a great side character, and i think that she and cas as the OG rebels could have had a lot of fun adventures, but ultimately, they just didn't know what to do with her, so they sent her to angel prison. it's a bummer because i love her! but in the end, she just doesn't really affect much.

sam is like "i will attempt subterfuge" and it... is not successful.

the parallels between this fight and the one in sex and violence... it's PAINFUL to watch because dean could SO EASILY convince sam to come back, but he's never been taught how to handle his problems, and he reverts back to john's tactics, which is the WORST call he could have ever made.

(not americana over an emotional scene, that's the thing i'm sensitive about)

[nebris]

The Battle of the Wilderness was fought on May 5–7, 1864, during the American Civil War. It was the first battle of Lieutenant General Ulysses S. Grant's 1864 Virginia Overland Campaign against General Robert E. Lee and the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia. The fighting occurred in a wooded area near Locust Grove, Virginia, about 20 miles (32 km) west of Fredericksburg. Both armies suffered heavy casualties, nearly 29,000 in total, a harbinger of a war of attrition by Grant against Lee's army and, eventually, the Confederate capital, Richmond, Virginia. The battle was tactically inconclusive, as Grant disengaged and continued his offensive.

Grant attempted to move quickly through the dense underbrush of the Wilderness of Spotsylvania, but Lee launched two of his corps on parallel roads to intercept him. On the morning of May 5, the Union V Corps under Major General Gouverneur K. Warren attacked the Confederate Second Corps, commanded by Lieutenant General Richard S. Ewell, on the Orange Turnpike. That afternoon the Third Corps, commanded by Lieutenant General A. P. Hill, encountered Brigadier General George W. Getty's division (VI Corps) and Major General Winfield S. Hancock's II Corps on the Orange Plank Road. Fighting, which ended for the evening because of darkness, was fierce but inconclusive as both sides attempted to maneuver in the dense woods.

At dawn on May 6, Hancock attacked along the Plank Road, driving Hill's Corps back in confusion, but the First Corps of Lieutenant General James Longstreet arrived in time to prevent the collapse of the Confederate right flank. Longstreet followed up with a surprise flanking attack from an unfinished railroad bed that drove Hancock's men back, but the momentum was lost when Longstreet was wounded by his own men. An evening attack by Brigadier General John B. Gordon against the Union right flank caused consternation at the Union headquarters, but the lines stabilized and fighting ceased. On May 7, Grant disengaged and moved to the southeast, intending to leave the Wilderness to interpose his army between Lee and Richmond, leading to the Battle of Todd's Tavern and Battle of Spotsylvania Court House.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_the_Wilderness

[aedirns]

Name: Bartemius Victor Crouch Sr.

Age: 51

The part of themselves they want to show the world: Both the unstoppable force and the immovable object; fierce, resilient, and utterly unrelenting. Blood between his teeth, bruises on his knuckles, and bones of absolute steel; do not cross. 

The part of themselves that they want to hide from the world: Terrified of becoming his father, so much so that he has done just that and pushed his son miles away; spiteful, angry, vengeful, more ruled by his emotions than he would ever admit. 

Their views on blood politics/purism: He rejects it, thinks it’s disgusting; your blood has no basis on your ability or who you are as a person.

Their views on magical supremacy overall: For the most part, rejects it, though definitely has a condescending view towards Muggles that slips out now and again. 

Their views on technomancy: He’s into anything that can help the DMLE (position tbd, but very pro-DMLE) crush both the Death Eaters and the Order (and only slightly hates the former more than the latter).

Character parallels: A somewhat more morally questionable John Wick is what it’s coming to mind right away tbh.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Webb cracks case of inflated exoplanet

Why is the warm gas-giant exoplanet WASP-107 b so puffy? Two independent teams of researchers have an answer.

Data collected using NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope, combined with prior observations from NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope, show surprisingly little methane (CH4) in the planet’s atmosphere, indicating that the interior of WASP-107 b must be significantly hotter and the core much more massive than previously estimated.

The unexpectedly high temperature is thought to be a result of tidal heating caused by the planet’s slightly non-circular orbit, and can explain how WASP-107 b can be so inflated without resorting to extreme theories of how it formed.

The results, which were made possible by Webb’s extraordinary sensitivity and accompanying ability to measure light passing through exoplanet atmospheres, may explain the puffiness of dozens of low-density exoplanets, helping solve a long-standing mystery in exoplanet science.

The Problem with WASP-107 b

At more than three-quarters the volume of Jupiter but less than one-tenth the mass, the “warm Neptune” exoplanet WASP-107 b is one of the least dense planets known. While puffy planets are not uncommon, most are hotter and more massive, and therefore easier to explain.

“Based on its radius, mass, age, and assumed internal temperature, we thought WASP-107 b had a very small, rocky core surrounded by a huge mass of hydrogen and helium,” explained Luis Welbanks from Arizona State University (ASU), lead author on a paper published today in Nature. “But it was hard to understand how such a small core could sweep up so much gas, and then stop short of growing fully into a Jupiter-mass planet.”

If WASP-107 b instead has more of its mass in the core, the atmosphere should have contracted as the planet cooled over time since it formed. Without a source of heat to re-expand the gas, the planet should be much smaller. Although WASP-107 b has an orbital distance of just 5 million miles (one-seventh the distance between Mercury and the Sun), it doesn’t receive enough energy from its star to be so inflated.

“WASP-107 b is such an interesting target for Webb because it’s significantly cooler and more Neptune-like in mass than many of the other low-density planets, the hot Jupiters, we’ve been studying,” said David Sing from the Johns Hopkins University (JHU), lead author on a parallel study also published today in Nature. “As a result, we should be able to detect methane and other molecules that can give us information about its chemistry and internal dynamics that we can’t get from a hotter planet.”

A Wealth of Previously Undetectable Molecules

WASP-107 b’s giant radius, extended atmosphere, and edge-on orbit make it ideal for transmission spectroscopy, a method used to identify the various gases in an exoplanet atmosphere based on how they affect starlight.

Combining observations from Webb’s NIRCam (Near-Infrared Camera), Webb’s MIRI (Mid-Infrared Instrument), and Hubble’s WFC3 (Wide Field Camera 3), Welbanks’ team was able to build a broad spectrum of 0.8- to 12.2-micron light absorbed by WASP-107 b’s atmosphere. Using Webb’s NIRSpec (Near-Infrared Spectrograph), Sing’s team built an independent spectrum covering 2.7 to 5.2 microns.

The precision of the data makes it possible to not just detect, but actually measure the abundances of a wealth of molecules, including water vapor (H2O), methane (CH4), carbon dioxide (CO2), carbon monoxide (CO), sulfur dioxide (SO2), and ammonia (NH3). 

Roiling Gas, Hot Interior, and Massive Core

Both spectra show a surprising lack of methane in WASP-107 b’s atmosphere: one-thousandth the amount expected based on its assumed temperature.

“This is evidence that hot gas from deep in the planet must be mixing vigorously with the cooler layers higher up,” explained Sing. “Methane is unstable at high temperatures. The fact that we detected so little, even though we did detect other carbon-bearing molecules, tells us that the interior of the planet must be significantly hotter than we thought.”

A likely source of WASP-107 b’s extra internal energy is tidal heating caused by its slightly elliptical orbit. With the distance between the star and planet changing continuously over the 5.7-day orbit, the gravitational pull is also changing, stretching the planet and heating it up.

Researchers had previously proposed that tidal heating could be the cause of WASP-107 b’s puffiness, but until the Webb results were in, there was no evidence.

Once they established that the planet has enough internal heat to thoroughly churn up the atmosphere, the teams realized that the spectra could also provide a new way to estimate the size of the core.

“If we know how much energy is in the planet, and we know what proportion of the planet is heavier elements like carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and sulfur, versus how much is hydrogen and helium, we can calculate how much mass must be in the core,” explained Daniel Thorngren from JHU.

It turns out that the core is at least twice as massive as originally estimated, which makes more sense in terms of how planets form.

All together, WASP-107 b is not as mysterious as it once appeared.

“The Webb data tells us that planets like WASP-107 b didn’t have to form in some odd way with a super small core and a huge gassy envelope,” explained Mike Line from ASU. “Instead, we can take something more like Neptune, with a lot of rock and not as much gas, just dial up the temperature, and poof it up to look the way it does.”

The James Webb Space Telescope is the world's premier space science observatory. Webb is solving mysteries in our solar system, looking beyond to distant worlds around other stars, and probing the mysterious structures and origins of our universe and our place in it. Webb is an international program led by NASA with its partners, ESA (European Space Agency) and CSA (Canadian Space Agency).

TOP IMAGE....This artist’s concept shows what the warm Neptune exoplanet WASP-107 b could look like based on recent data gathered by NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope along with previous observations from NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope and other observatories. Observations captured by Hubble’s WFC3 (Wide Field Camera 3), Webb’s NIRCam (Near-Infrared Camera), Webb’s NIRSpec (Near-Infrared Spectrograph), and Webb’s MIRI (Mid-Infrared Instrument) suggest that the planet has a relatively large core surrounded by a relatively small mass of hydrogen and helium gas, which has been inflated due to tidal heating of the interior. Credit NASA, ESA, CSA, Ralf Crawford (STScI)

LOWER IMAGE....This transmission spectrum, captured using NASA’s Hubble and James Webb space telescopes, shows the amounts of different wavelengths (colors) of starlight blocked by the atmosphere of the gas-giant exoplanet WASP-107 b. The spectrum includes light collected over four separate observations using a total of three different instruments: Hubble’s WFC3 (Wide Field Camera 3) Grism Spectrometer in green, Webb’s NIRCam (Near-Infrared Camera) Grism Spectrometer in orange, and Webb’s MIRI (Mid-Infrared Instrument) Low-Resolution Spectrometer in pink. This spectrum shows clear evidence for water (H2O), carbon dioxide (CO2), carbon monoxide (CO), methane (CH4), sulfur dioxide (SO2), and ammonia (NH4) in the planet’s atmosphere, allowing researchers to estimate the interior temperature and mass of the core. Credit Illustration: NASA, ESA, CSA, Ralf Crawford (STScI) Science: L. Welbanks (ASU) and the JWST MANATEE team

[greensparty]

Movie Reviews: Lynch/Oz and Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

This week I got to review 2 films, one narrative and one documentary:

Lynch/Oz

Alexandre O. Philippe has very quietly become one of the great pop culture documentarians of our time. The People Vs. George Lucas looked at the love/hate relationship between Lucas and his fans, Doc of the Dead looked at zombies in pop culture, 78/52 examined the shower scene in Psycho (read my review here), and Leap of Faith was William Friedkin talking about making The Exorcist (read my review here). But more than any subject Philippe is examining, his films are really a thesis about what it is to be a film geek who is fanatical about a film, filmmaker or genre. Now he is after an iconic filmmaker David Lynch and his connection to an iconic film The Wizard of Oz with the new doc Lynch/Oz, opening this week.

movie poster

The overall doc is examining the influence that Oz had on Lynch and his work. Structurally it is set up into chapters, where each one has a different commentator (John Waters, Rodney Ascher,  Karyn Kusama and more) examining their perspective on that influence, intercutting with clips from Oz and Lynch’s films as well as other films. 

This reminded me a ton of Rodney Ascher’s brilliant doc Room 237, where he examines theories and interpretations of The Shining each with a different commentator you don’t see only hear and they are connecting dots that may or may not be there, but you’re intrigued nonetheless. So it made perfect sense that Ascher was a commentator. Going into this, the immediate film I thought of was Lynch’s Wild at Heart, which is literally and visually referencing Oz. But after watching this doc, I feel like Oz’s DNA is all over so much of Lynch’s work in more ways than I saw upon first viewing. This is definitely a treat for fans of Lynch, but at times it might get a little academic for non-fans. But for someone like me who has inhaled so much of Lynch’s work, it’s worth checking out!

For info on Lynch/Oz: https://exhibitapictures.com/films/lynchoz/

4 out of 5 stars

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

After countless iterations of Spider-Man movies (i.e. Sam Raimi’s trilogy, Marc Webb’s reboot, and Jon Watt’s reboot that plays into the MCU), 2018′s Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse was an animated story of Miles Morales and how he becomes Spider-Man in his universe and how he connects with other Spider People in parallel universes to defeat Kingpin. It was a breath of fresh air: the same Spider-Man story we’ve seen countless times already was now new again in a fresh, charming, and fun ride. Best of all, because it was about parallel universes, it didn’t disrupt the existing live-action Spider-Man movies of the last few years, so there was no confusion for fans. Into the Spider-Verse won an Oscar for Best Animated Feature and I named it my #7 Movie of 2018. Now the sequel Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse opens today.

movie poster

Before I get into this movie, let me say I always try to avoid spoilers in movie reviews. That is going to be a challenge here. It’s not just about avoiding giving away the ending, there’s so much in the beginning and middle as well that are surprises and I don’t want to give too much away to ruin the fun. Here it goes: In this universe, Miles is a teen getting used to being Spider-Man. As he goes into other universes he meets with other Spider-People too. There is a master plan and when any Spider-Person does something that veers from that plan it could unravel the fabric of history. Other films like Back to the Future and that episode of Star Trek where they go back in time, have addressed this very same concept, but this one is packing it with more action and colorful visuals.

With my movie reviews, I usually attend press screenings (sometimes screeners), and for this particular one I got to bring my son, who is 7 and loved the last Spider-Verse movie. It was such a treat to be able to bring him and enjoy this movie with him! I did not feel like this was nearly as impressive a Into the Spider-Verse, but it definitely sustained the originality of the last one and more than anything there’s a sense of fun amidst the complex storylines and theories. For a big Summer franchise sequel, you could do a lot worse. Now (semi-spoiler ahead), this does suffer a little from middle-movie syndrome, where there’s no really beginning and no real ending unless you’re watching the trilogy as a whole. It’s hard for me to get critical without giving much away, but I kind of wanted some closure the way the other Spider-Man movies are stand-alone movies. Having said all this, this is one of the best super hero movies I’m likely to see this year!

For info on Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse: https://www.acrossthespiderverse.movie/

4 out of 5 stars

[beyondcuckoo]

Ley Lines has been published on Elaine Webster - http://elainewebster.com/ley-lines/

New Post has been published on http://elainewebster.com/ley-lines/

Ley Lines

Ley Lines (Shared from Mu the Motherland)

Ancient cultures throughout the world recognize that the earth is alive with energy. Mystics suggest that although the earth feels solid, that it is in truth God’s dream. With this in mind, it is suggested that the planet has an internal structure whose ‘bones’ are an organized, powerful, and connected energy grid often referred to as Ley lines. Many believe that sacred sites are strategically placed where these lines intercept or sometimes run parallel. Some examples are the Great Pyramid of Giza, Stonehenge, Lake Titicaca in Peru, Mount Shasta in California, Mount Kalias in Tibet, the Haleakala volcano on Maui in Hawaii, the Ayers Rock in the center of the Australian desert and many others.

The close study of indigenous peoples’ migratory history in the United States and Mexico, has uncovered many connections between pueblos, pyramids, and other powerful sites. Most scientists don’t buy into the ley line concept, with one notable exception. Apparently the three “Anasazi” sites of the Aztec Ruins and Chaco Canyon in New Mexico, and Casa Grandes in Mexico—separated by 450 miles— align within a half mile along Longitude 107° 57′ and archaeologists agree that the precision of their placement could not be by chance. Some speculate that the ancients may have possessed magnetic compasses that allowed them to detect and tap into the earth’s subtle energy currents when they selected their build sites. Were they then used as a type of communication or energy source? Possibly. The newest Lidar – short for light detection and ranging – has been recently utilized to 3D map the three locations. Paved roads that were never visible now show extensive connecting highways, and satellite villages, that would require a level of sophistication, expert skill to build, and intentional design. 

The concept of Earth grids and ley lines has also been explored by various researchers and writers, including the likes of John Michell, Paul Devereux, and David Cowan. They have suggested that these lines of energy can be detected and mapped using various tools and techniques, such as dowsing, geomagnetic surveys, and satellite imagery.

One of the most well-known examples of ley lines is the St. Michael Line, which runs through southern England and is said to connect various sacred sites, including Glastonbury Tor, Stonehenge, and Avebury. The concept of ley lines has also been explored in other parts of the world, such as the Nazca Lines in Peru, which are thought to be a giant geoglyph created by an ancient civilization to mark the alignment of ley lines.

It is said that these energy lines can affect the weather, the behavior of animals, and even human emotions and behavior. In addition, ley lines are often associated with mystical experiences, such as spiritual visions, telepathy, and even healing.

Despite the popularity of the idea of Earth grids and ley lines, there is still much debate and controversy surrounding the concept. Skeptics argue that there is no scientific evidence to support the idea that these energy lines exist, and that any perceived patterns are simply the result of coincidence and human imagination. However, many supporters of the ley line theory point to the many ancient monuments and sacred sites that are aligned with these energy lines as evidence of their existence. They argue that the precise alignment of these structures could not have been achieved by accident, and that the builders must have had some knowledge of the energy lines in order to create such precise alignments.

Ultimately, the debate over Earth grids and ley lines is likely to continue for many years to come. While some people see them as a fascinating and meaningful aspect of the world around us, others remain skeptical of their existence and significance. Regardless of where one stands on the issue, there is no denying the fact that the concept of Earth grids and ley lines has captured the imagination of many people around the world and will likely continue to do so for many years to come.

[garagedoorsuppliertexas]

Things To Do In Wylie-Inexpensive, Fun, And Educational

Wylie, Texas is a small town with a big heart. The city prides itself on its small-town values and community spirit. There's no better way to get to know Wylie than by exploring all the events, attractions, and activities the city has to offer. Whether you're looking for something educational or just want an inexpensive way to have fun with your family and friends, we've got you covered with these ideas for things to do in Wylie:

Parker

Parker is a small town in Parker County that has a lot of historical significance and is only 20 miles outside of Fort Worth. It has a population of about 1,800 people and several small businesses, including art galleries and shops selling antiques. The history of this little town dates back to 1873 when it was founded by William Parker and his wife Nancy (who was also referred to as "Nannie").

They built their home on what is now known as Main Street in Wylie, Texas. This street runs parallel to Highway 78 between Rowlett Road and US 377/Texas State Highway 183--which means you can easily find it if you're driving through town!

The Wylie Recreation Center

The Wylie Recreation Center is a great place to spend time with friends and family. There are many activities to choose from, including swimming, tennis, basketball, and more. You can also rent the facility for parties or events of your own! If you’re looking for something different to do in Wylie--or just want some fun exercise with friends--the Wylie Recreation Center is a good choice.

If you want to play sports at the center but don’t have your own equipment (such as a basketball), they have balls available for rent at $2 per day. If you’re interested in taking up bocce ball as a hobby or getting your kids involved in athletics, this could be an affordable option for getting started!

Murphy

Murphy is the oldest town in Collin County and home to the Murphy Heritage Center, which houses many historical artifacts. It's also a great place for a day trip, as it's only about 45 minutes away from Wylie.

The town was founded in 1848 by John Neely Bryan and named after his friend Felix Murphys, who helped him find land there. The two became partners and built a trading post along the Trinity River. They discovered that they were sitting on top of one of Texas' most abundant sources of natural gas—a fact they capitalized on by selling their own brand of kerosene lamps made out of brass cylinders filled with liquid fuel oil. These lamps were so successful that they eventually earned more money than any other product sold at their store!

In what became known as "the Murphy Raid" (or "the Great Hanging"), several hundred Comanches led an attack against local settlers during an election day celebration in 1860; most people escaped unharmed but three men were killed before soldiers arrived from Fort Richardson to fight off attackers with cannons firing at point blank range into crowds gathered outside homes near where Highway 75 currently ends today (you can still see some bullet holes here).

Farmstead Equestrian Center

If you're looking for a way to enjoy the outdoors while also learning something new, Farmstead Equestrian Center is the place to be. This Wylie landmark has been open since 1968 and offers horseback riding lessons, boarding and sales, shows, training sessions and trails. If you're interested in any of these things but aren't sure where to begin, this is definitely the place for you! The staff will help answer any questions you have so that when it comes time for your first day on horseback or at home with Fido (their dog), everything will be smooth sailing.

There are many resources to help you experience all that Wylie has to offer.

Wylie is a great place to live and raise a family. You're far from the hustle and bustle of the big city, but close enough to enjoy all that it has to offer. There are many resources to help you experience all that Wylie has to offer, including:

The Wylie Chamber of Commerce (http://wycliffechamber.com) - They organize events throughout the year and provide members with opportunities for networking and professional development

VisitWylie.com (http://visitwylie.com/) - This website has everything you need to know about what's going on in your city, including events listings

Wylie is a great place to live, work or visit. It has everything from a recreation center and parks to entertainment options and educational opportunities. There are plenty of things for families to do together in Wylie, including visiting museums and exploring nature trails.

Reliable service from a veteran-owned and operated garage door company. We provide installations, repairs and tune-ups for residential and commercial doors. With a focus on customer satisfaction, our experts provide exceptional garage door installation, repair, maintenance and replacement services. For more information give us a call today!

Veteran Garage Door Repair -Wylie 405 Williams St Ste A, Wylie, TX 75098, United States 972-347-0734 https://veterangaragedoor.com/garage-door-repair-wylie-tx/ https://g.page/vgd-wyl?share