#Virtual Reality Language Learning

[learnsimple]

Embracing the Digital Revolution: The Role of Technology in Modern Language Learning

In the digital age, the landscape of language learning has undergone a transformative shift. Gone are the days of solely relying on textbooks and classroom instruction. Today, technology paves the way for more interactive, flexible, and personalized language learning experiences. From sophisticated apps to immersive virtual reality (VR) environments, let’s explore how technology is reshaping the…

[atcuality5]

Transform Employee Training with Immersive VR-Based Training Solutions

In today’s fast-evolving business landscape, companies need innovative ways to train their employees efficiently. Atcuality’s VR-based training solutions provide a cutting-edge approach to workforce development by immersing trainees in realistic, interactive simulations. Unlike traditional training, which relies on manuals and videos, our VR programs offer a hands-on learning experience that enhances engagement and knowledge retention. Industries such as oil & gas, logistics, and retail can benefit from our highly customized VR training modules, ensuring employees master essential skills in a risk-free virtual setting. With real-time performance tracking and analytics, businesses can measure training effectiveness and make data-driven improvements. Invest in VR-based training solutions to modernize your training programs, boost employee confidence, and improve overall workplace efficiency with Atcuality’s state-of-the-art technology.

[simulanissolutions]

The Metaverse is transforming education by enabling immersive, interactive, and engaging learning experiences.  Simulanis, a leader in AR, VR, MR, and Metaverse solutions, is at the forefront of this revolution, developing cutting-edge immersive learning technologies for various industries.

[ratgrinders]

Never Stop Blowing Up Favorite Movies

Wendell Morris

Weird Science - 1985 science fantasy/teen comedy. "Nerdy social outcast students Gary Wallace and Wyatt Donnelly are humiliated by senior jocks Ian and Max for swooning over their cheerleader girlfriends. Humiliated and disappointed at their direction in life and wanting more, Gary is inspired by the 1931 classic Frankenstein to create a virtual woman using Wyatt's computer, infusing her with everything they can conceive to make the perfect dream woman."

The Fast and the Furious - "A media franchise centered on a series of action films that are largely concerned with street racing, heists, spies, and family."

Real Genius - 1985 science fiction/comedy. "Chris Knight, a genius in his senior year, is paired with a new student on campus, Mitch Taylor, to work on a chemical laser, only to learn it will be used for dangerous purposes."

Liv Skyler

Empire Records - 1995 coming-of-age comedy/drama. "The film follows a group of record store employees over the course of one exceptional day. The employees try to stop the store from being sold to a large chain, and learn about each other along the way."

Scarface - 1983 crime drama, and a remake of the 1932 film of the same name. "It tells the story of Cuban refugee Tony Montana, who arrives penniless in Miami during the Mariel boatlift and becomes a powerful drug lord." Additionally, "Less than two months before the film's release, Scarface was given an X rating by the MPAA for "excessive and cumulative violence and for language".

Clueless - 1995 coming-of-age teen comedy. "Considered to be one of the best teen films of all time...The plot centers on a beautiful, popular, and rich high school student who befriends a new student and decides to give her a makeover while playing matchmaker for her teachers and examining her own existence".

Usha Rao

The Horse in Motion - Published in 1878, a sequential series of 6 cabinet cards depicting the movement of a horse. Regarded as "the world's first bit of cinema", and the first film ever created.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - 1931 horror film. "An adaptation of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the 1886 Robert Louis Stevenson tale of a man who takes a potion which turns him from a mild-mannered man of science into a homicidal maniac."

102 Not Out - 2018 Indian Hindi-language comedy drama. "Dattatraya Vakharia is a lively 102-year-old who lives his life to the maximum and takes everything in a jovial way for his heart is that of a 26-year-old youngster regardless of his age. His 75-year-old son, Babulal Vakharia, is his exact opposite for he believes that he is now too old and fragile to enjoy life and lives a routine life."

Russell Feeld

American Gigolo - 1980 neo-noir crime drama. "A high-priced male escort who becomes romantically involved with a prominent politician's wife, while simultaneously becoming the prime suspect in a murder case."

La Femme Nikita - 1990 French-language action thriller. "[Nikita] is a criminal who is convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment for murdering policemen during an armed pharmacy robbery. Her government handlers fake her death and recruit her as a professional assassin. After intense training, she starts a career as a killer, where she struggles to balance her work with her personal life."

Waking Life - 2001 animated film. "The film explores a wide range of philosophical issues, including the nature of reality, dreams and lucid dreams, consciousness, the meaning of life, free will, and existentialism. It is centered on a young man who wanders through a succession of dreamlike realities wherein he encounters a series of people who engage in insightful philosophical discussions."

Andy 'Dang' Litefoot

Suburbia - 1983 coming-of-age drama thriller. Follows "a group of suburban youths who run away from home and adopt a punk lifestyle by squatting in abandoned suburban tract homes."

Goldfinger - 1964 spy film and the third installment in the James Bond series. "The film's plot has Bond investigating gold smuggling by gold magnate Auric Goldfinger and eventually uncovering Goldfinger's plans to contaminate the United States Bullion Depository at Fort Knox."

Fire in the Sky - 1993 biographical science fiction mystery. "It is based on Travis Walton's book The Walton Experience, which describes an extraterrestrial abduction"

Paula Donvalson

Muriel's Wedding - 1994 Australian comedy-drama. "The film focuses on the socially awkward Muriel whose ambition is to have a glamorous wedding and improve her personal life by moving from her dead-end hometown, the fictional Porpoise Spit, to Sydney."

The Long Kiss Goodnight - 1996 action thriller. "The story follows an amnesiac schoolteacher who sets out to recover her identity with the help of a private detective when they discover a dark conspiracy."

Under the Tuscan Sun - 2003 romantic comedy-drama. "Based on Frances Mayes' 1996 memoir of the same name, the film is about a recently divorced writer who buys a villa in Tuscany on a whim, hoping it will lead to a change in her life."

[theambitiouswoman]

Hobby Ideas 🎨💻🎵🧁🪴

💰 Hobbies to Make Money:

Freelance Writing

Photography

Graphic Design

Web Development

Online Selling (e.g., Etsy, Amazon, eBay, Shopify)

Blogging

Stock Trading

Real Estate Investing

Affiliate Marketing

Freelance Consulting

💪 Fitness Hobbies:

Running

Yoga

Weightlifting

Cycling

Swimming

Martial Arts

CrossFit

Hiking

Rock Climbing

Dance (e.g., Zumba, Hip-hop)

☀️ Outdoor Hobbies:

Camping

Fishing

Birdwatching

Gardening

Geocaching

Kayaking

Mountain Biking

Backpacking

Stargazing

Horseback Riding

💻 Technology Hobbies:

Programming

Robotics

3D Printing

Virtual Reality (VR) Gaming

Home Automation

Drone Flying

Cybersecurity

App Development

Electronics DIY

PC Building

🎵 Music Hobbies:

Playing an Instrument (e.g., Guitar, Piano)

Singing

DJing

Music Production

Songwriting

Music Recording

Karaoke

Music Theory

Joining a Band or Choir

Vinyl Collecting

📚 Brainy Hobbies:

Chess

Sudoku

Crossword Puzzles

Board Games

Reading

Learning a New Language

Brain Teasers

Logic Puzzles

Math and Mathematical Puzzles

Astronomy

✨ Other Hobbies:

Cooking and Baking

Painting and Drawing

Pottery and Ceramics

Woodworking

Knitting or Crocheting

DIY Home Improvement

Model Building (e.g., model trains, airplanes)

Collecting (e.g., stamps, coins, vintage items)

Volunteer Work

Meditation and Mindfulness

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Thomas, Engineer

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Watching Tranquility Base drift away as the Noah launched on its maiden voyage from Earth’s moon left Thomas Hibbs with an odd feeling of deja vu. He’d worked on dozens of ships, but always in the engineering decks where the only windows were peering into the mechanical arrays. Peering out into the void of space was…actually pretty damn cool in Thomas’s opinion.

I wonder if this thing has a VR Grid, he thought.

In the 50 years since humanity had joined the GAIL, it hadn’t been all space hoppers and life saving medical breakthroughs, the entertainment industry had made huge jumps in realism and simulated realities. One species in particular, the machine people known as the Padrino, had such a realistic virtual reality environment code that practically every other species in the assembly paid top dollar for a copy of it. Thought most used it for information storage and practical exploits, Humans were the first to turn it into a hyper advanced game simulation. The Padrino weren’t exactly pleased to learn the code they used to store their memories and experiences was being used to fight monsters with supernatural powers at weekend game tournaments on Earth, but they didn’t complain that much. Thomas had the idea to upload a compatible version of an old game called PAC-MAN where you’re your own avatar running the mazes into the ships computers. He couldn’t wait to get that high score again.

The engineering deck was right below the science labs, and Thomas saw one of the 3 other humans on board with him. He thought her name was Liz or something, but didn’t stop to say hi. She looked preoccupied with something, and talking to people was hard. Machines were good listeners. Thomas could talk for hours to machines while he worked, even if they weren’t the kind that could talk back, thought this ship did have those. Maybe here he could meet some people who get him.

The engineering deck was all catwalks and overhead piping, service lights and ventilation ducts. Computer terminals threw blue light against the opposite wall as Thomas made his way to the Engineer ‘locker’ room. Thomas figured that’s what it was, given the cubbies for the crew’s personal items and racks and shelves of tools and equipment for the ‘fixers’ to use.

There were about two dozen people moving around the room, none of them human, several of which were non biological as well. 2 Padrino were there, speaking their machine language while they sorted tools across a long workbench against the far wall. There were several other species as well that Thomas didn’t recognize, lots of different shapes and sizes. He felt a little insecure, being just the basic human he was.

Thomas found his name on the cubby wall and stuff his own tool bag in there, as well as a change of clothes and safety gear. Then he very carefully hid a hand held game pad under his spare jumpsuit, for emergencies. He’d been stuck in an air duct once before for hours twiddling his thumbs. Never again.

Just as he finished stuffing away his gear, something small bumped against his boot. He looked down, and saw a small robot waiting patiently for him to lift his foot. Apparently he’d been trailing confetti from the launch ceremony around the ship the whole time because these droids weren’t supposed to be down here in engineering. It had probably been following him since he’d walked in. The little guy had a cylinder torso, no real neck but his head looked like it turned in circles with two tiny exhaust pipes sticking out the top. Two ‘eyes’, or sensors with aesthetics, were all that made up the face. His little feet reminded Thomas of a chicken’s, and he had two little arms with tiny hands on each.

“Oh my god you’re so cute I love you,” Thomas half squealed as he picked the little robot up like a baby. “Have you been following me this whole time? Doing such a good job, keeping the ship clean. Did you get lost? Do you need help?”

The little machine just looked at him and wiggled its legs, probably the gyroscope trying to compensate for the sudden shift in balance.

One of the other engineers laughed.

“It’s just a service drone, it can’t actually understand you. It probably just followed your trail of waste and its sensors can’t get it back to the upper decks anymore.”

Thomas looked up from the tiny robot to see a fair number of his co workers looking at him, some trying to hide smiles, some not bothering being so polite. He felt his face begin to burn as a blush came to his cheeks and surged down his neck.

Oh my god I can’t believe I did that but it’s so freaking cute how can I not how can they not love it maybe there’s more on the ship this cute, his brain might implode at the rate it was going. The service drone continued to wiggle in his grip. To Thomas it was almost the size of a toy, maybe a solid 4 inches tall. It stopped squirming and looked up at his face, its tiny head whirring and clicking as gears shifted inside its chassis. It reached out one of its tiny hands and poked his thumb.

“Beep.”

“Beep.”

“Beep.”

Thomas’s mouth dropped. How could a machine with no higher functioning AI be this adorable?

“I’m gonna call you Roomba.”

“That’s just its service alarm. It’s processing an inability to perform its tasks so it thinks it’s stuck somewhere, ergo it’s alerting other drones to come assist it. It probably thinks you’re rectifying the obstacle.”

There were some snickers, a few openly laughed, but Thomas couldn’t care about them right now. The little droid was so adorable in Thomas’s eyes it was like looking at puppies.

He did, however, notice the 2 Padrino staring at him, motionless. For a moment he worried he’d maybe offended them by gushing over the little toy like robot. One of them approached. The Padrino had a clearly mechanical body with chrome plating encasing its joints and limbs. Its torso was thin but solid, whirring quietly as it walked over. Its head had a single antenna with a tinted face plate, which Thomas figured just was it’s ‘face’.

“It has been observed that Humans form an emotional bond to many different species and objects. Is this what is occurring, Human Thomas?”

Gauging the inflections of their voice was difficult, they didn’t have any kind of body language and the voice itself was entirely synthesized, adding layers of difficulty. Thomas thought for a moment, then just shrugged.

“I didn’t mean to cause a scene in here, I just got excited. It’s small and kinda cute so I just lost control for a moment.”

“Apologizing is unnecessary. We’d simply like to understand how Humans function to better improve the efficiency of this division.”

“Beep.”

The service drone wiggled in his hand again.

“It appears the small droid is out of range of its directive. It is asking for assistance with a new objective to replace its task queue.”

“Wait, you can understand it?”

“Yes, the alert sound is not a language. It’s sending out a very short range signal burst with information embedded in it, which I can receive with internal sensors. It’s AI is crude and simple, but it does have the basic functionality to form an artificial language. You’ve replaced its designation D7 with the name Roomba.”

Thomas looked from the Padrino to the little droid and back again.

“Does it like the name?”

“Beep.”

“It says it is a sufficient new designation and is awaiting a new task queue.”

“Oh good, I’m not good at naming stuff so I was worried-”

“Since the ship has launched, the service drones have gone inactive due to safety features. Since this one, new designation Roomba, was here on the engineering deck, it was outside the proximity of the ship’s AI core transmissions. It has exhausted its task queue and requests a new one.”

“Beep.”

“It is repeating the request.”

“Yeah, yes, got that, thank you. Okay, and I can just give it something to do?”

“That is correct.”

“Beep.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Roomba, can you hand me another bolt please?”

“Beep.”

[Primary task in the queue has not been completed: obtain high score]

“I know buddy, but you can pause it with that little button on the side there. I need that bolt real quick.”

Roomba looked where Thomas was pointing on the game pad. The pad itself was bigger than the drone, by a good half inch, so it was like Roomba was standing on a flat screen built into the floor, or playing one of those retro dance machine games from way back.

“Beep.”

[Acknowledged]

The Padrino had been kind enough to give Thomas’s ear piece translator an quick upgrade, so now he was able to receive Roomba’s signal burst data and understand what he was ‘saying’. They’d even given Roomba’s AI a little tune up so he could understand more complex tasks and ideas. Roomba had disconnected from the ship’s core code when he’d gone to the engineering deck so Thomas figured it’d be fine, the little guy could hang out with him now.

It took Roomba’s whole hand to get the game pad to register the pressed button and pause PAC-MAN, which was cute. And what was even cuter was the bolt Thomas needed was half the little robots size so it struggled just a little to bring it over the few feet to him.

“Good job buddy, thank you,” Thomas said, grinning.

“Beep.”

[Acknowledged. Returning to primary task]

“You do that. Good luck Roomba.”

At the time, the only thing the Padrino had asked for in return for their help and upgrades was the chance to observe biological lifeforms and their tendencies to ‘bond’ with others. The Padrino were a sort of hive mind it seemed, each unit being just an interface with the main AI back on their home planet. When units were out of range of communication with the home office, the main AI base code was copied into the machines and split off to collect information. When they got home, they dumped the data into the main computers and integrated back into the main AI core.

Thomas thought they were the coolest people he’d ever met. He’d said ‘sure, observe all you want, I just wanna thank you guys for your help.’

The game pad trilled, a little tune to congratulate moving up a level.

“Beep.”

[Update: progress has been made. Continuing primary task: obtain high score]

“Good work Roomba. You keep at it buddy, you’ll get there.”

From down the hall the 2 Padrino watched the strange little robot ‘playing video games’ next to the human doing an actually productive task.

“More data must be collected. The human, a deathworlder, has bonded to the drone.”

“We will continue to observe.”

“Agreed.”

[seriouslycromulent]

The Math Ain't Mathing

So I'm sure people are going to accuse me of being a conspiracy theorist, but the more I think about the results of this US election, the more it's clear that things aren't adding up.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm well aware of the US's long history of racism and misogyny, and it is totally possible -- in theory -- that more people voted for a moronic straight, white male who is an ajudicated grapist and convicted felon over a more-than-qualified, intelligent, results-driven woman of color for a position as leader of the wealthiest nation on earth.

I'm not saying that couldn't happen. But did it? Legitimately?

The more I think about Trump's campaign, the more fishy this result seems.

So here was a man with ...

virtually no policies (that he could talk about openly),

no ground game,

no door knocking apparatus to urge folks to get out the vote,

no phone banking,

he was constantly running out of money and had to shill products to raise more,

stole money from down ballot candidates, putting their marketing strategies at risk,

found liable for SA,

found guilty of millions of dollars in fraud,

constantly rambles and shows clear signs of being mentally unwell,

invokes violent and hateful language against specific communities as well as individuals,

bragged about being a dictator on Day 1,

had over 40 former cabinet members declare him unfit for office,

was called a fascist by his own former chief of staff,

was not endorsed by any reputable economists,

saw a flood of lifelong Republicans -- literally millions of them -- abandon their party to vote for his opponent,

has been impeached twice,

has seen sharply, dwindling crowd sizes at his rallies for the last 6 weeks,

... and somehow he won the popular vote by 5 million?

Even though he never won the popular vote in 2016? Or 2020?

Suddenly he "found" a bunch of votes from people who liked him?

Um, no.

Just no.

One of Trump's biggest failings is that he and his team tell lies like children. That is, they've never learned how to keep things believable. Like a misguided 10-year-old who is desperate to impress someone with his whopper of a tale, he always exaggerates to the point of hyperbole and insults our intelligence.

For example, he told us his rally at Wildwood, NJ, this past summer had 108,000 even though the town itself only has 80,000 residents and the venue he held the rally in only held 20,000 people.

Or how he kept insisting that American kids are going to school and somehow receiving gender reassignment surgery over a couple of days and without parental consent before being sent home.

Each lie is so over the top and grandiose it makes him look infantile while at the same time insults our knowledge of reality.

And that's exactly what this feels like.

There is no way this man won the majority of the votes and the popular vote after only winning due to the electoral college the first time and not at all the second time. More people vilify him now than they did in 2016 and 2020, and that's saying something.

There just aren't enough voters in the US to give him a clear path to victory here no matter how committed his sycophants are to white supremacy. MAGA voters are not the majority of the voting electorate.

Also the fact that the exit polling data is suspiciously similar to the same tall tales Trump's been selling for the past year about how he had a ton of support in the Latino and Black communities, despite there being no data to support it at all. He was polling damn near 0% in some majority black communities like Detroit and Atlanta.

Yeah ... no.

This math ain't mathing.

I'm not a conspiracy theorist, but I know when something isn't adding up. And nothing about these results add up at all.

On top of that, they ran their entire campaign like they didn't care about people getting out to vote. They kept insulting different segments of the electorate over and over again, as if they didn't need the votes of single people or people without children.

Plus, we saw record voter registration leading up to the election. More people voting early in state after state, and millions of people voting for the first time in their lives. But somehow there were fewer votes cast in this 2024 election than in the 2020 election?

Hell, Georgia alone tripled its early voter turnout. So how is this election getting fewer votes than 4 years ago?!

There were historically longer lines than ever before in parts of the country that never saw long lines, and yet there were millions fewer votes counted so far this year? Are we really to believe that all those long lines and so many new voters managed to only add up to 136M versus 158M who voted in 2020?

I call bullshit!

Also, a number of folks are commenting on how quickly the states were called. In all my years of voting, I've never seen a US election turning around so fast.

Yeah, the math ain't mathing.

Sure, he could've eeked out a win via the Electoral College without the popular vote like he did in 2016, but given her momentum and the majority of the polls either favoring her or having had them tied, none of these results pass the smell test.

Meanwhile, Harris had a multigenerational, multiracial, multiethnic, multigendered coalition of enthusiastic supporters who volunteered, phone banked, door knocked, and fundraised in every state plus D.C. Her media strategy was savvy, her interviews were sharp and intelligible, and her demeanor was inclusive and congenial. Again, not putting anything past good ole American racism and misogyny, but all the data showed that her supporters were clearly larger in number and more enthusiastic than his.

Long story short --

I do believe we are witnessing the American government being hijacked and a dictator installed right before our very eyes.

[legacygirlingreen]

"Lady by the Sea" (1/2) || Tech x OC Marina || NSFW

Author's Note: Hi friends! I wanted to pop in briefly before this one with a few important reminders. This is part of of a larger AU created by my friend @leenathegreengirl and I. Decisions have been and will always be agreed upon mutually, including the way this story was written. As always, she is responsible for the beautiful cover art (full image at the bottom of the text). Additionally, I'd like to take the time to remind readers that I am an autistic adult. I have been diagnosed since I was a young child - shocking since I was a child during the early 2000s when most doctors believed that cases of autism in girls was virtually non existent/only presented in the stereotypical representation of males. And while I'm not trying to reopen the debate on if Tech is/isn't autistic and/or a good representation of autism, I will continue to write him with those tendencies. There are many things I see in myself (and how it manifests for myself personally) in his canon character. Same can be said for how I write Marina. So I wanted to provide some explanation for those who maybe don't have much up close experience with autism. This installment does include stimming. Stimming can be done for a variety of reasons and look different for every person. I stim when I am nervous. I stim when I am angry. I stim when I am happy and the variety of each of those actions differs depending on how I need to regulate my emotions. "Happy stimming" can look different from person to person, but a common form of this is flapping one's hands/arms. I, admittedly struggled to put this action into words and when discussing it with my real life partner he did express that while the body language itself may appear awkward (the movement can look a bit stiff), he still finds it endearing as a person who loves and respects me. I am sure when you reach that portion, you will understand what I am referring to. Additionally, the concept of masking is described in this. While I did not blatantly use words like 'stimming' or 'masking', please note that I hoped to convey these in a way that shows how they act in reality. Autistic people usually learn to mask their more physical manifestations in order to fit in. I am no exception. So when writing this piece it did become a bit cathartic to express Tech learning to overcome 'masking' as he views Marina expressing her own stims without fear or worry. Anyways, I hope that these concepts come across alright - I do struggle to put my experiences as a person who's been diagnosed even after all this time. But I am more than happy to continue the conversation with anyone wanting to know more. Thanks for reading this slightly longer note/disclaimer. Also, this will have a part 2 I plan to get up next Tuesday! Happy Reading, M

Pairing: Tech x OC Marina

Rating: NSFW

Word Count: 13.3k

Warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of passionate embraces, mentions of slight childhood bullying, brief mentions of divorce/widowhood

Summary: Tech accompanies his new friend with examining a deep sea fish migration and gets more than he bargained for...

Masterlist | Tech's Encrypted Files | Previous | Next

Tech immersed himself in all material he could find about the mōlī fish migrations, reading up on every documented detail ahead of the evening. All Marina had mentioned was that the creatures surfaced near Pabu’s beaches only once every few years, and that the event itself was a spectacle worth witnessing. That alone piqued his interest—deep-sea fish capable of rising to the surface was an extraordinary phenomenon, especially considering that the pressure of the ocean only shifted enough to allow such a migration in a rare, cyclical pattern.

The fish’s ability to glow with their own internal light as they navigated the depths was both scientifically fascinating and naturally awe-inspiring. To say that Tech was intrigued was an understatement. His mind, always attuned to the marvels of biology and the natural world, buzzed with the possibilities of what he might learn from observing such a rare event.

Ever since that day when Marina had acknowledged his appearance, Tech had begun to feel something strange whenever she was near. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was certainly unfamiliar—an unexpected shift in his usual equilibrium. At times, his heart would race, an irregular thudding in his chest that caught him off guard. His palms would sweat, an odd dampness that seemed to appear out of nowhere. There was a warmth that would spread through his bloodstream, almost as if his body was responding to some hidden signal. And if he happened to look at her for too long, a dizzying lightness would sweep over him, as if the world itself had momentarily tilted.

He couldn't quite make sense of it. These phenomenological responses weren’t things he typically experienced, and they didn't follow the same logic as his usual responses to stimuli. He knew something was happening—he could feel it, this strange stirring within him that didn’t quite fit into any of the categories he usually applied to his own emotional or physical states. But what was it? Perhaps an allergy to a fragrance she wore? That seemed the most likely given he only experienced the changes when she was closer in proximity to him.

Despite the confusion, there was a part of him that couldn’t deny the underlying excitement that pulsed beneath all of it. It was an energy he hadn’t felt before, an electric current that surged through him whenever the marine biologist was near, even if he couldn't pinpoint the exact cause. 

But the strangest part was that he couldn’t explain why this felt so important. He had a tendency to dissect everything in his life, to categorize things, break them down, and understand them through logic. Yet, no matter how much he tried to apply his usual methods of analysis, this sensation didn’t fit neatly into any of his mental boxes. It was as though his mind was searching for patterns, but finding none, which only heightened his fascination. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that when she was around, the world seemed to shift just a little, like everything was suddenly more vivid, more... alive. 

And more than that, he felt an overwhelming sense of ease, as though there was no need to explain himself. The quirks and behaviors he had spent years trying to suppress—the very things that had made him feel alienated, even from those closest to him—suddenly didn't seem to matter. In Marina, he saw reflections of those traits he had long struggled with, the things that had once set him apart in a way that felt isolating. Yet in her presence, those differences didn’t feel like barriers but like an unspoken bond, a quiet understanding between them. The relief was profound, deeper than he realized. It wasn’t just that Marina accepted him; she seemed to instinctively know him in a way that was both rare and deeply comforting. In her, he found a kindred spirit—a mirror of sorts—that reassured him he wasn’t so alone in the world after all.

Marina was more than she appeared. While she had a sharp, scientific mind and a direct approach to life, she also embodied the culture of her people. A native of Pabu—an uncommon heritage, as most were refugees like him—she held tight to their distinctive culture. Her connection to their physical traditions, like tattoos, and her reverence for the moon and tide cycles, reflected a harmony that enhanced both her analytical side as a scientist and her spirituality in a way that was rhythmic. Having never fully been able to do the same, he found it interesting one could walk that line with grace and ease. Particularly the way in which she framed her scientific discoveries as something noble and worthy of protecting simply for their beauty.

It was a quality he was finding increasingly admirable. 

After presenting his findings to Crosshair, Tech had been met with a curt, dismissive response. His brother, in typical fashion, had simply called him a “kriffing idiot” before shutting down any further discussion. Tech, as always, had tried to prod for more details, to understand why his findings—his observations—were being so lightly dismissed. But Crosshair had only shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he said, “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Tech, unsurprisingly, had no doubts that he would eventually crack the puzzle. He always did, after all. But the response, or rather, the lack of one, left him feeling oddly disappointed. He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but there was something about Crosshair’s refusal to elaborate that gnawed at him. It wasn’t just the dismissive tone—Tech was used to that—but the evasiveness, the unwillingness to help him interpret the strange phenomenon that had been so consuming. His brother’s typical bluntness had given way to a kind of aloofness that felt out of character, and it left Tech feeling as though something important had slipped just out of reach.

Tech wondered if it was stemming from his brother’s proximity to his ex wife. Kayden and Leena were twins after all. Perhaps it had something to do with his loyalty to his fiance and thus her family, that he remained so tight lipped. It also might stem from the one bad interaction that Marina had experienced with Crosshair, getting under his skin in a way Tech knew would be hard to rectify - even if he did believe his brother to be in the wrong. Regardless, Crosshair was not willing to help and that left Tech on his own to figure out what the feelings meant on his own. 

And yet, Tech refused to let the confusion dampen his plans for the evening. He was determined to help his friend with her research, and in doing so, witnessed a rare scientific phenomenon that only a few were privileged enough to observe. The other, more personal aspects of his curiosity—those feelings of comfort that had begun to stir within him—would have to wait. There was no need to try to interpret them just yet, especially when there was so much data to be gathered. He could analyze the rest later, on his own time.

So, as Tech made his way down the familiar island path, his footsteps light but purposeful, he found himself reflecting on the strange sense of urgency that had overtaken him as he prepared for the evening. He had spent more time than usual adjusting his appearance before leaving his domicile—straightening his shirt, making sure his hair didn’t have cowlicks, even using a bit of fragrance he usually found overwhelming. Normally, he didn’t care much for such details, but tonight felt different. There was a subtle pressure to look “right,” though he couldn’t quite articulate why he felt the need.  It was irrational - something Tech rarely allowed himself to indulge - but for some odd reason he couldn’t stop. 

The evening air was cool as he walked, the full moon casting a soft, silvery glow across the horizon. His path was dimly lit by the lamp he carried, the small light barely enough to illuminate the trail beneath his feet. The wind tugged at the edges of his shirt and ruffled his short brown hair, but Tech barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, caught up in the quiet hum of the night and the curiosity that continued to pulse beneath his skin.

As Tech neared the dock, his heart seemed to beat a little faster, his steps subtly quickening as if the evening’s arrival had suddenly become more tangible. The familiar sound of the gentle waves lapping against the shore was drowned out by the heightened rhythm of his thoughts. He was almost there—so close now—and yet, the closer he got, the more acutely aware he became of the small details that he’d never cared about before.

Reaching the end of the path, where the dock stretched out over the water, Tech paused for a brief moment. He took a slow, steadying breath and looked down at himself again, though he knew he had already checked his appearance at least three times before leaving. His shirt—hanging loosely over his waistband, as if that made any difference—felt too tight in some places, too loose in others. His hands hovered awkwardly over his clothes, as if trying to adjust them, but they didn’t need adjusting. His boots, polished to an extent that he rarely bothered with, seemed to gleam in the dim light, too pristine for someone who spent most of his time in the lab or among machinery.

He wasn’t sure what had come over him. He never worried about these small, superficial details. But tonight, as the torch light swayed gently in the wind beside him, something inside his chest fluttered, and he couldn’t stop himself from second-guessing every movement, every decision. Did normal people behave this irregularly in the face of unresolved tension? The thought flickered in his mind before he quickly dismissed it. He was overthinking. He knew that. But even as he tried to calm his nerves, a persistent hum of uncertainty remained.

He glanced at his reflection in the dark water below, seeing only fragments of his face on the moonlit surface. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his appearance, nothing to suggest that this evening was anything different from the others.

Tech took a step onto the dock, the familiar sound of the wooden planks creaking beneath his boots seemed unusually loud in the stillness of the night. His nerves were on edge, his heartbeat pulsing in his ears, and just as he neared the end of the dock, he saw movement ahead. Marina’s head appeared around the corner of the houseboat’s door, just enough for him to catch sight of her. She didn’t step out fully, but her eyes locked on him immediately, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 

“You made it,�� she called out, her voice carrying a slightly higher pitch than usual. There was a certain brightness in her tone that stood out, almost at odds with her usual reserved demeanor. His heart did a strange little flip at the sound. It was unexpected, and yet, not unwelcome. He had grown used to her more measured, often serious way of speaking, especially when it came to her work. But tonight, her voice carried a volume and enthusiasm that felt almost unfamiliar, and the shift was enough to make his chest tighten. “Come on in,” she added with an encouraging smile. “You’re just in time.”

Tech’s pulse quickened, his legs feeling a little more wobbly than usual as he drew closer. He nodded, though the response felt inadequate, and the sound of his boots hitting the dock again was all that broke the silence between them.

Marina smiled again, this time more softly, before slipping back inside the boat with a quiet rustle of fabric. The door clicked gently behind her, and Tech stood there for a moment longer than necessary, his mind racing with the odd sensation that something had shifted between them in those few seconds. Raising his hands only slightly, he flexed his hand before releasing it as if it would calm his nerves purely through the subconscious act alone.

Tech stepped inside the galley, the lights inside dim, as the boat swayed gently beneath him. He’d expected to find Marina inside, maybe preparing her notes or getting things in order, but as he stepped through the door, he realized she wasn’t there. He frowned briefly, confused, until he heard her voice, light and inviting, calling out from the deck.

“Out here!”

He turned on his heel, setting the torch in his hand on the table while the wooden floor creaked beneath him as he headed toward the back door that led out to the deck. As he stepped outside, the cool night air met him, the wind tugging at his shirt as he squinted into the moonlight, eyes readjusting to the low light.

And then he saw her.

Marina stood near the railing, looking out over the water, the soft glow from the sky casting an ethereal halo around her. The moonlight bathed her in silver, but it wasn’t just the soft illumination of the night that caught his attention—it was her. Her appearance was startling, yet captivating, and for a long moment, Tech stood frozen, unsure how to process what he was seeing.

She wore a flowing skirt that draped loosely around her hips, the fabric cut with slits on both thighs that revealed glimpses of her toned legs as she shifted her weight. The skirt moved with the breeze, and as the fabric fluttered, it drew his eye to the intricate blue tattoos that trailed down her thighs all the way to the tops of her feet, dark lines of color like fluid streaks of ink. 

Her top was not that unlike the kinds of things he’d seen her wear in the past. It was a simple piece, barely covering her chest, leaving the rest of her skin exposed. He was used to her wearing swimwear under wetsuits for diving, and while the shape of this was not far off, the impracticality of no sleeves and just a simple piece of fabric wrapped around her breasts was enticing. The top’s fabric was light and airy, enough to offer coverage but still reveal the smooth expanse of her arms, shoulders, and midriff. 

A gold chain wrapped around her waist, resting just above the waistband of her skirt, its delicate links glinting in the low light. Beneath the chain, Tech’s gaze lingered on the metal along her naval—a small, subtle piercing he hadn’t recalled noticing before, but one that seemed to add to the overall softness of her appearance. 

Her hair, usually tied back neatly when they worked together, was loose tonight, the dark strands swaying lightly in the wind as the few white pieces reflected the moonlight. It framed her face beautifully, soft waves cascading down her shoulders. As he looked longer he noticed the addition of smaller plaits, wrapped in thread or ornamented with more gold cuffs or beads. The sight was so striking that for a moment, Tech’s thoughts scattered, unable to form anything coherent. The combination of her exposed skin, the delicate jewelry, and the raw elegance of her posture was overwhelming.

His breath caught in his chest.

Marina turned slightly, her eyes catching him as she noticed him standing there, frozen in place. Her lips curled into a subtle smile, one that seemed almost playful but also knowing, as if she’d caught him off guard.

“You coming, or are you going to stand there all night?” she teased, her voice light but with an edge of curiosity.

Tech blinked, his gaze shifting away from her exposed skin, though it was almost impossible to look away. His heart raced again, but this time it wasn’t from the excitement of the evening’s research. No, it was something else entirely—something deep in his chest that he had a sinking suspicion he may finally know how to name.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words were stuck. His brain was sluggish, processing too many things at once. The sound of his boots moving along the deck was the only thing that filled the silence.

As he joined her by the railing, he couldn’t help but steal another glance at her, his mind still reeling. She was breathtaking, but it was more than that. There was a rawness in her beauty tonight, something that made her feel more real, more present than ever before. Sure, he had acknowledged she was objectively attractive, but now that seemed arbitrary. This was a type of transcendent glow he couldn’t quite placate. One that existed simply from one’s own natural beauty and not the artifice of cosmetics but instead existed in sunkissed skin and salt waved hair. 

Marina glanced at him, the faintest glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Are you feeling alright?” she asked, her tone still light, but there was an understanding in the way she looked at him, like she could see right through his awkwardness.

Tech cleared his throat, his hands instinctively moving to adjust the sleeves of his shirt, though there was no need. So his fingers worked their way down to the friendship bracelet woven by Omega along his wrist, fiddling with the frayed strands that hung loose. He swallowed hard, finally managing to say, “You—uh, you look incredible.” His voice came out quieter than usual, and he wasn’t sure if it was the way her appearance had stunned him or if it was something else entirely, but his words felt like they barely scratched the surface of what he really meant.

Marina’s smile deepened, and her eyes softened, almost as if she could hear the unspoken things in his voice, the things he wasn’t saying aloud. She stepped a little closer, the gentle sway of the boat bringing them even nearer to each other.

“Thank you,” she said simply, though her smile held an unmistakable warmth that sent a ripple through Tech’s chest. 

Tech shifted his weight, feeling an awkward tension settle in his chest as he glanced at Marina once more. His eyes, despite his best efforts, betrayed his thoughts, lingering on her for just a second longer than necessary. He cleared his throat once more, trying to divert his focus. "Not that your appearance isn’t appreciated," he started, his words falling a little flat, but he pushed through the discomfort, "but I thought we were going to study the mōlī fish migration tonight. This does not exactly seem suitable for scientific research." He gave her another quick glance, hoping she wouldn’t catch on to the hesitation in his gaze, but he couldn’t help himself. The way the soft moonlight reflected off her exposed skin, the way the gentle sway of the boat seemed to amplify her presence—it was all too much to ignore.

Marina looked at him, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t respond right away. Instead, she shifted her gaze downward, fiddling with her hands as if she were suddenly unsure of something, the usual confidence in her posture faltering for just a moment.

She took a slow breath and then glanced back up at him, her expression softening slightly. “I don’t recall saying we were going to study them,” she replied, her voice light but tinged with an edge of playfulness. “I only asked if you would join me in witnessing their rare resurfacing. There is a difference, you know.” Her lips curved into a small, almost apologetic smile, but the shift in her demeanor made it clear that there was something more to her words. Not only that, but that his comment was dulling the odd behavior to which she’d displayed since his arrival. 

Tech blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He had assumed she’d planned to document the event, the way she had so carefully detailed the scientific significance of the mōlī fish migration in the reports she’d given him. But now that she mentioned it, she hadn’t actually said anything about studying them. The realization took him a moment, and he found himself searching her face, trying to read between the lines of her playful tone and the uncertainty that now lingered in her hands.

“So this is not strictly a scientific observation?” Tech asked, his voice quieter than intended, a slight confusion lacing his words as he tried to wrap his head around what she was implying. Her statement seemed to suggest something far more personal—something more intimate—and yet, he couldn't bring himself to vocalize it outright. Instead, his mind raced, wondering if there was more to this night than he had initially understood.

Marina seemed to sense his hesitation, the way he was trying to make sense of everything, and she finally met his gaze. “It’s a chance to witness something rare, Tech,” she said softly. “And I thought it might be more meaningful to share it with someone who... well, who might appreciate it in their own way.” Her words trailed off, leaving an openness that hung in the air between them, and Tech felt his chest tighten, unsure of how to respond.

For a moment, the night seemed to hold its breath, the sounds of the water below and the rustling of the breeze the only thing filling the space between them. He looked down, unsure of what he should say next, his mind still caught on the subtle shift in the tone of their conversation. “I—well, I do appreciate it,” he said, the words feeling inadequate even as he spoke them. “I just didn’t realize it was... that sort of experience."

Marina watched him for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing her face. She took a small step closer, her voice lighter, though still laced with a quiet concern. “Tech,” she began, her gaze softening, “if you no longer want to stay... if this wasn’t what you expected... It's okay. I understand if this isn’t the kind of experience you had in mind.”

Her words hung in the air between them, the gentle sway of the boat adding a quiet rhythm to the moment. Tech’s heart skipped, and he immediately felt the weight of her question pressing down on him. The idea of backing out now—of saying that he didn’t want to be here, with her, after everything—felt wrong. His mind scrambled for a response, but his thoughts collided in a haze of uncertainty.

“No, no—” Tech quickly interjected, his voice coming out more rushed and loud than he intended. He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. “I want to stay. I just misunderstood, that’s all.”

He paused, his words hanging in the air between them, and he watched her carefully, as if searching for some clue that would help him make sense of this situation. Was she angry? Had he said the wrong thing?

“I still do not fully understand,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "What I mean is, I do not understand why something like this—this event—seems to be affecting your behavior. Not in a bad way, of course, I just—" He cut himself off, realizing he was rambling. He wasn’t good at putting his thoughts into words, especially when they were clouded with feelings he didn’t yet fully comprehend.

He looked down at the water, trying to collect himself, the stillness of the ocean beneath them somehow helping to calm his scattered thoughts. The breeze tugged at his sleeves, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could collect his bearings and make sense of it all. “I look forward to uncovering the reason,” he added, his voice more measured now. “If you’re willing to explain it to me, that is.”

It felt like he was asking more than just for an explanation. He wanted to understand her, to understand why this moment—this rare event—was affecting her so deeply. There was more going on here than just the mōlī fish. And, whether or not she admitted it, it seemed tied to something more personal, even if that something wasn’t a detail she was ready to reveal. He was still unclear if it was something from her life directly or if it involved him somehow. 

“I suppose I am acting abnormal to the baseline you’ve come to recognize,” Marina admits, her words trailing off as she pauses. There’s a quiet shift in her demeanor, a subtle vulnerability that Tech can’t quite place. He doesn’t press her, though—he simply watches, his gaze flicking to her from the corner of his eye, noticing the way she draws in a steadying breath.

Then, to his surprise, she reaches out and grabs his forearm. The unexpected contact startles him, and he tenses for a moment before forcing himself to relax. His heart thuds loudly in his chest, but he doesn’t pull away. She seems to sense his hesitation and, after a brief pause, she tugs him gently away from the railing.

“Come on,” she says, her voice soft but resolute. He follows her wordlessly, curious as she leads him to the front of the boat. There, she lowers herself gracefully onto the deck, dipping her feet into the water with a practiced ease as she settles in.

Tech hesitates for a moment, watching her, noticing the subtle tension in her shoulders and the way her movements seem more purposeful than usual. He sits next to her, his boots coming off quickly, socks discarded as he rolls his pant legs up. He mimics her posture, dipping his feet into the slightly chilled water, feeling the coolness of the sea seep into his skin. He hears Marina sigh beside him, the sound soft and heavy with something he can't quite name. Her leg bounces up and down on the lower dock, his eyes tracing the exposed skin momentarily as it moves before they settle on the way she’s weaving her fingers in and out of each other. It’s then Tech realizes she’s perhaps nervous. 

For a long moment, neither of them speaks. The night air hums with a quiet energy, and Tech is keenly aware of the silence that lingers between them, a silence filled with more than just the sound of the waves.

Finally, Marina’s voice breaks the silence, hesitant, as if her words have been waiting to be said for years. “Twenty-eight years ago, my mom went into labor,” she starts, her voice steady but heavy with something unspoken. This is the tone he is used to from her, and not the one she had been adopting the evening thus far. “My father wanted her to seek medical assistance, but she refused. She said the Pabu natives had been giving birth by the sea for generations, and she would uphold that tradition. I was born just as the mōlī fish came up to the surface.”

She pauses, her eyes unfocused as if she’s seeing something far away. Tech stays quiet, letting her find her rhythm. He pictures the scene she’s describing—her mother, the glowing mōlī fish rising from the water, and the life-and-death balance of the moment. Regardless of his own less than organic conception and birth, he still held much regard for the process that natural born people experienced. 

“My father told me,” she continues, her voice quieter now, “that my mom was so happy to see me there, hovering above the water, glowing. And for a moment everything was perfect. In the end she didn’t make it. But she got to experience joy there in the end.”

The words hang between them, heavy and raw. Tech feels a tightness in his chest, the weight of her grief lingering in her tone. He’s not sure how to respond—how to offer comfort without crossing some line. So, he stays silent, simply listening, watching her closely as she opens up, trying to hold on to every word she’s offering as his fingers drum along his leg.

Marina exhales softly, as if the telling of it has exhausted her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Her gaze flickers to him, just for a moment, searching his face as if to gauge his reaction. But she doesn’t wait for him to speak—she continues.

“Despite my more scientific mind,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, “I admit to behaving oddly when I witness this event. There is a joy to it. I understand sorrow as it commemorates the passing of my mother would be more appropriate but the grief I feel for her is less in losing someone and more in losing out on the opportunity to know someone so vital to who I am.” She pauses and Tech considers her words. He knew the feeling. Quite well. He - like other clones - were a product of Jango Fett but there was a disconnect from the man that existed. He did not know him, but he was him, at least genetically speaking. That left an odd hole in his existence few could articulate.  

“I wish I had a better descriptor and believe me I certainly have tried to rationalize one. It’s not just the fish, it’s not just the science of it. Seeing this makes me feel connected to my mother. A woman I never knew. This migration... it’s a part of me, in many ways. I understand it is likely just a coincidence in timing, and there is no real reason to put such emphasis on the movement of aquatic life.”

Her words linger in the air, heavy with the weight of everything she’s shared. Tech feels his heart pounding in his chest, his mind struggling to find something to say that could capture the depth of what he’s just heard. For a moment, he simply watches her, taking in the way the water reflects in her eyes. From his position he can only see the lighter of the two. It’s as though the entire night has shifted, the scientific curiosity he’d arrived with now feeling small in the face of Marina’s story. He has no words that feel sufficient to meet the moment, but somehow, he knows that what she’s shared has opened a door to something much more meaningful between them.

Tech swallows, his voice soft yet sincere. “I did not realize. I didn’t understand how much this truly meant to you.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts before adding, “There are times when behavior might seem illogical, but that doesn’t make it any less valid.” His mind drifts back to earlier, when he had almost scolded himself for the extra, seemingly unnecessary effort he’d put into his appearance, and he hopes she’ll understand that he’s acknowledging something important. That sometimes, acting against reason doesn’t make the experience any less real or worthwhile. He, too, occasionally finds himself in that space, where actions defy explanation, and it’s not a bad thing.

Marina doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she turns her gaze toward the water, watching the gentle ripples.  The air between them is filled with a quiet understanding, a connection that feels deeper than anything Tech has ever experienced. He doesn’t know how to make sense of everything he’s feeling at this moment, but he knows one thing for sure: he’s grateful she’s shared it with him. Grateful, she trusts him enough to allow him to see this side of her—the one that’s more than just the scientist, the one who carries the weight of her past with grace and quiet strength.

“I apologize for not saying anything earlier. Or if my unnatural behavior is off putting to you in any regard” she admits, her gaze still drawn to the water, though her voice grows just a little more vulnerable. “But... I’m glad you’re here. I was not quite sure why I invited you, but now that you’re here, it feels... right.”

Tech listens intently, his eyes never leaving her face, the quiet moonlight catching the curve of her features. His chest tightens in a way he can't quite place, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like everything else falls away. The gentle sway of the boat, the soft ripples in the water—they all fade into the background, and it’s just the two of them, sharing something unspoken.

She glances over at him then, her expression open, her gaze steady. The depth of her words sits heavily between them, and he feels a strange, pressing need to somehow ease it—to say something that conveys just how much it means that she’s trusting him with this. That he understands that sometimes behavior may be irrational and that is okay. That she shouldn’t feel the need to dull herself for his sake. That she’s making him feel a comfort and acceptance he’s never felt before. But even as he searches for the right words, something else presses on him, a pull that he can’t ignore.

He finds his hand reaching out instinctively, brushing lightly against her arm at first, just enough to confirm she’s still here, still with him. There’s a flash of heat at the contact, one that catches him off guard, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets his hand slip around her shoulder. His palm flattened around the skin, drawing her closer, the movement slightly awkward yet almost urgent. It’s not entirely deliberate, not like he’s thought this through, but something in him just... needs to be close to her.

Marina doesn’t pull away, her breath catching for the briefest moment, but she leans into his touch, just slightly, her warmth against him undeniable. The sensation spreads through him, and for the first time tonight, Tech feels that curiosity that’s been plaguing him slips his mind, so that he can focus on the here and the now.

She doesn’t seem to mind the closeness, and yet her eyes stay focused on the water. But the air around them feels different now, charged. He wonders if she can feel it, too—the way their proximity seems to spark something between them that perhaps started friendly and is now shifting into a place he hadn’t considered.

His voice comes out quieter than usual, the words soft and hesitant, as if he’s afraid to break the moment, afraid that acknowledging what’s happening might somehow make it disappear.

“I’m honored that you trusted me with your story,” he says, his voice huskier than he intends. “I didn’t expect to be part of something so... meaningful to you tonight. Also although I admit your behavior is unexpected I assure you it it is not off putting,”

For a moment, the only sounds are the gentle lapping of the water and the soft rhythm of their breathing, but the silence isn’t comfortable. It’s thick with something unspoken, something lingering between them—something neither seems ready to name.

“Sorry if I overwhelmed you when you were expecting research,” she says, her brow furrowing with concern, as if suddenly realizing the weight of what she’s done.

“Nonsense,” he replies, his words warm, almost soothing. “Whatever’s happening right now is far more important than anything I imagined for this evening. I—” He pauses, watching the way her gaze traces his face before he continues. “I’m glad I came.”

Marina’s smile deepens, soft and tender, a quiet affection blooming in the curve of her lips. She shifts slightly, turning her body more toward him. The opposite shoulder to the one he is holding nestles against his outstretched arm, resting against his bicep. The subtle movement brings her even closer, her side brushing against his, her warmth seeping into him like a fireplace on a cold night.

“I’m glad I get to share this with you,” she whispers, her voice barely a breath, as if the words hold the power to change something between them. Her hands reach up, settling carefully on his shoulders, hesitant, testing his reaction. When he doesn’t pull away, she lifts them higher, the soft contact sending a shiver through him.

Tech feels the delicate pressure of her fingers against the sides of his goggles, her touch tender as she gently slides them off, resting them on his forehead.

The air between them thickens, heavy with all the things neither of them dares to say. His breath catches in his throat as he watches her, unable to look away. The world around them seems to hold its breath, charged with a palpable tension—an unspoken electricity in the space between them. And yet, all he can do is sit there, inches from her, caught in the stillness, the moments stretching, building into something far more than either of them can voice.

Something in him shifts again—an unfamiliar desire to be even closer, to bridge that last small gap between them. He doesn’t know if it’s the way her gaze flickers to his lips, or the warmth in her voice that makes his chest tighten in a way he’s not used to, but before he even knows what’s happening, he moves—slowly, deliberately—his one hand still resting on her shoulder, but now his other hand drifts slightly, brushing against her back. The contact is light, tentative, but the way she leans into it just enough makes his heart race in a way he didn’t expect.

Marina's breath catches as Tech's fingers trace the curve of her back, sending a spark through her skin that seems to resonate with the beat of her heart. The world around them feels still, like a held breath, and for a moment, everything else fades into the background. It's just the two of them, the tension between them thick and palpable, like an unspoken promise hanging in the air.

Tech’s gaze flickers down to her lips, and the space between them becomes so small, so charged with possibility that he can feel it in his chest, in his fingertips. There’s an electric pull, something magnetic drawing him closer, and he leans in slightly, just on the cusp of closing the distance between them. 

Marina’s eyes are locked on him, her pupils dilated, her breath steady but quick. She’s not pulling away. She’s not hesitating either. And that simple truth makes everything feel even more real—more intense. He wants to kiss her. He knows it, and it feels right, and the moment is stretching in a way that makes time slow to a crawl.

But then, just as their faces draw even closer, just as Tech can almost feel the warmth of her lips against his, she gasps, her eyes snapping toward the water with an excitement that almost knocks the air out of his lungs. “Look!” Her voice rises with a mixture of joy and wonder, pointing urgently at the water. Her fingers tremble with excitement as she points toward the glowing light in the distance, the mōlī fish rising to the surface. The air shifts instantly, the moment between them slipping away like sand through his fingers.

Tech follows her gaze, heart still racing, but now the quiet, intimate connection feels like it’s been severed. His eyes take in the mesmerizing sight of the fish, their glowing bodies casting a soft, ethereal light just under the water’s surface, a breathtaking natural phenomenon that he would never have expected to be so enchanting.

Marina’s face lights up, the wonder in her eyes infectious as she watches the fish dance in the water. Her excitement is so pure, so unrestrained, that it fills the space between them, pulling him into the moment with her.

Tech glances at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her so animated, so alive with joy. Despite the moment slipping away, despite the rush of disappointment that’s flooding through him, he can’t help but feel a heat spread through his body. She’s so present, so open, and even as the tension between them eases, something else starts to settle in its place—a deeper respect for her in this moment.

As she springs to her feet, a smile as bright as the sun spreading across her face, Tech instinctively pushes himself up to join her. Her excitement is palpable, her eyes shining with awe as more of the glowing mōlī fish begin to surface, gracefully swimming closer to the boat. For a fleeting moment, Tech is completely absorbed in the wonder around them, the sheer beauty of the sight washing over him, making him forget the tension that had nearly clouded the evening. But just as he feels he’s taken in the full splendor of the scene, his gaze shifts, and he catches sight of Marina again.

He’d grown so used to her normal behavior. Marina was calm. She was an overcast sky in the early morning. Still. Subdued. Only occasionally allowing subtle humor to break past her otherwise stoic nature. Her excitement was rare to witness and often came in the form of soft exhales through her nose. She was not robotic per say, but she aligned more with his own behavior. This explosion of emotions was far cry from the woman he had come to recognize.

She’s standing next to him, her eyes wide with pure amazement, her body practically vibrating with excitement. Then, without warning, she twirls on her toes, her arms flung out as if the rush of joy is too much to contain within the confines of her frame. Hands shaking and arms moving up and down like a bird preparing for flight. The movement, albeit a bit unnatural, somehow radiates with him. The sight of her, so unabashedly filled with childlike wonder, almost causes him to lose his balance and tumble into the water, a soft laugh bubbling up in his chest. The fish, radiant in their bioluminescent glow, are undoubtedly breathtaking, but the image of Marina, watching them with such unfiltered reverence, is far more captivating to him given how much it diverges from how she behaves normally.

Tech’s thoughts drifted back to his cadet days, remembering how, in moments of pure elation—whether from a new discovery or a successful training exercise—he would often burst with an energy he couldn’t quite contain. His body would betray him in those moments, trembling with excitement, his hands fidgeting or his feet tapping without his consent. It was natural then, but as he grew older, he began to realize that such outbursts weren’t typical. He wasn’t very old when the awareness started to creep in, and it became undeniable when Crosshair, ever the sharp observer, coined the word ‘odd�� to describe it. He’d mockingly called him "Porg," a nickname that reduced his genuine expression of joy to something silly, something to laugh at. But to Tech, it wasn’t funny. The playful teasing only made him retreat further into himself, and he learned to suppress those exuberant displays of emotion. His joy became something quieter, less noticeable—just the subtle tapping of his leg or the rhythmic rubbing of his hand along his pant leg. Or adjusting his goggles on his face.

Now, watching Marina, he was reminded of how he used to be, before the Kaminoans, the regs, and even his own brothers pointed out the “oddities” in his behavior. There, in Marina’s uninhibited excitement, he saw a reflection of the boy he had been—a boy unashamed of his physical reactions to joy. And for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he’d been too harsh on himself, too quick to stifle what felt so natural. The way Marina let herself be fully absorbed in the present, unrestrained by the world’s expectations, made him question whether perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing after all. To be so overwhelmed with joy that it couldn’t be contained, that it spilled out in visible, almost childlike expressions—it wasn’t something to hide. It was, in its own way, a beautiful form of unbridled freedom in the stimulation.

Despite the magnetic pull of Marina’s enthusiasm, Tech knows he would never forgive himself if he didn’t fully appreciate the mōlī migration. With a reluctant sigh, he tears his eyes away from her, pulling his goggles back down over his eyes, ready to dive into the scientific beauty of the moment. The fish’s movement is hypnotic, their delicate, fluid motions like the flicker of flames. The glow they emit is far brighter than he expected, not the soft glow he imagined, but a radiant blaze, as if the creatures themselves are stars come to life beneath the water.

The faint rustling of fabric reaches his ears, and he assumes it’s Marina shifting to get a better view. But then a sudden splash disrupts his focus, pulling his attention back toward her.

Tech’s eyes widen, and his breath catches in his throat as he processes what’s happened. Marina—who was just beside him moments ago, fully clothed—is now in the water. Most of her clothes are gone, replaced by the shimmering glow of the fish, as she giggles and splashes, completely uninhibited. The water around her glows with the same bioluminescence, the fish swirling around her in a dance of light. Though the rippling waves distort her form, the sight is almost painfully beautiful, the contrast of her laughter against the ethereal glow of the sea creating a surreal, intoxicating image.

Tech’s mind races, struggling to process the scene in front of him, but no matter how he tries to focus on the migration, his eyes can’t help but be drawn back to Marina, glowing in the water, a part of the wonder that surrounds them.

His mind struggles to find a foothold, every logical thought slipping away as his gaze lingers on Marina, her laughter echoing softly through the night air. The glow of the mōlī fish reflects off her skin, casting an otherworldly light over her, as if she’s become part of the sea itself. He watches as she lets herself be swept up in the magic of the moment, her movements light and carefree, as if the ocean had swallowed up any trace of the world beyond. The sight is so intimate, so unguarded, that it feels like something he shouldn’t be witnessing.

He takes a step closer to the edge of the boat, unable to tear his eyes away from her as she floats in the water, the gentle waves caressing her. The water around her ripples with a thousand tiny points of light, the fish weaving in and out of her, creating patterns in the depths.

“Marina…” he whispers, almost to himself, but his voice is drowned out by the splash of water as she dives beneath the surface, her form momentarily disappearing into the glowing abyss. The stillness that settles around them feels as though it could stretch on for eternity. Watching her, Tech is overwhelmed by a rush of emotions and memories, each one flooding his mind in quick succession. He is reminded, in a way that feels almost profound, how much he has come to appreciate her presence in his life. The camaraderie they share has only deepened over time, becoming something more than just companionship—something rich, layered, and almost essential. He’s grateful for the way she brings to light forgotten parts of himself, things he had long buried or suppressed.

In this moment, Tech realizes just how much he’s grown to cherish her, even the simple fact that she helps him reconnect with things he hadn’t known he missed. He smiles inwardly at the thought of how he had once been haunted by Crosshair’s teasing of his behavior—those sharp remarks that had driven him to push down his true self. But now, he finds himself longing for a time when he could be so open with his feelings, when such things weren’t a source of shame. And then, there’s the kiss—the one they almost shared just moments ago. The tension lingers, unfinished, a whisper of something deeper, something that still hums beneath the surface.

Then, she emerges again, her hair shimmering with water drops, her eyes sparkling as she surfaces and looks up at him. There’s something in the way she gazes at him, like she’s silently inviting him into her world, the one she so freely shares with the ocean. The one where their minds, behavior and drive are so aligned it is nearly frightening at the implication. She reaches out her hand, her fingers glowing faintly in the light below, and for a moment, Tech feels his heartbeat quicken.

Without thinking, he reaches toward her, his own fingers trembling slightly as he brushes against hers. Marina doesn’t pull away. Instead, she holds his hand, her grip light but firm, as she uses the other to tread water near where he is still on the lower dock. She tugs him gently, her voice soft but urgent. “You should come in,” she says, her words breathy but filled with intent. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.”

He stands torn, caught between the magnetic pull of the moment and the cautious voice in his mind, still echoing with warnings of what could go wrong. A part of him longs to remain on the sidelines, safely observing her joy from a distance, savoring the comfort of his own space. Furthermore this is something important to her, he hardly wishes to intrude. 

Perhaps it’s the lingering sting of the recent separation, the doubts it has left in its wake. Leena had always asked him to be more spontaneous, to embrace the unpredictability of life, but Tech had never been able to force himself to step into that kind of freedom. The mental block that surrounded the idea of spontaneity made it seem impossible—an unscalable wall. It wasn’t until now, watching Marina in her uninhibited joy, that he began to understand why. He had always thought of himself as adaptable, able to adjust to any situation, yet the idea of exposing himself, of allowing his emotions to spill out freely like Marina did, terrified him. It wasn’t just about the fear of rejection, but the deeper vulnerability that came with it. Even around the people he cared most about—his brothers, who had seen him at his most guarded—it had never felt safe enough to be this open, this raw. Not since he was younger anyway.

But now, in the quiet realization born from watching her, he understood something fundamental. Marina wasn’t afraid to be herself in these rare moments, to express her emotions without hesitation, and in that, she mirrored him in ways few could. The way he was wired—his need for order, his logical approach to everything—could be celebrated, not hidden away. Yet, on the flip side that he could be a logical person who did on occasion experience the illogical. There was no shame in being different, in feeling things deeply and allowing those feelings to show physically. The quietness of his own emotional expression had always felt like a burden, but watching her now, free in her own display of joy, he realized it was a strength—a part of himself that could be embraced because she was so alike him in all his other moments.

Perhaps it’s also the unexpected depth of his own growth—growth that had crept up on him quietly, unnoticed, until he found himself living it in real time. The ease with which he now shared his thoughts, the vulnerability that had once felt foreign to him, felt like a revelation. It was the kind of openness he had never thought himself capable of, and yet here he was, offering it to a new friend with a comfort he hadn’t anticipated. Maybe it’s simply the way Marina—this fiercely honest, no-nonsense marine biologist—had just giggled, her laughter spilling out in a raw, unguarded way that felt as though it could never be contained. The sound was unpolished, loud, awkward even, yet there was a purity to it that resonated deeply within him. For the first time, he understood what it meant to let go completely, to embrace joy in its most unrefined form.

But as he watches her there, bathed in the soft glow of the bioluminescent fish, surrounded by the starlit sky, something inside him shifts. In that moment, a realization settles deep within him: he doesn’t want to just observe anymore. He doesn’t want to remain on the sidelines of his own life. He wants to be part of it. He wants to feel this—the uncontained excitement—just as she does. He yearns to be someone who is steady and structured, yes, but also someone who isn’t afraid to let his emotions rise to the surface without hesitation. Not because it’s expected of him, but because, for the first time in a long time, he understands that it’s the person he wants to be. The person he is becoming.

Watching Marina now, he feels a bridge forming to the boy he had once been on Kamino, the one who could laugh freely and celebrate his small victories without fear or shame. That boy, once buried beneath years of self-restraint and calculated detachment, stirs within him. For the first time in years, Tech feels a connection to that part of himself he thought was long gone.

Tech realizes, with quiet clarity, that he has grown tired of allowing his need for structure and control to keep him from fully engaging with the world. He had never fully processed the association of the fear of rejection with his inability to express joy, especially with Leena. When she had pointed out his emotional reserve, his reluctance to embrace spontaneity, he had convinced himself it wasn’t about her—about meeting her needs—but about the deeper, more internal fear that had plagued him for so long. The fear of making himself too large, too visible, too vulnerable. The fear that if he let himself go, even for a moment, he might damage the relationships he cherished.

It was an illogical fear, he knew that now. He understood that Leena, with her kind heart, would have accepted him for who he was, no matter how restrained or intense his emotions were. But understanding and acceptance, he realized, were two very different things. Leena’s kindness had never been in question, but he wasn’t sure she could ever truly understand him—not in the way he needed her to. And that, he knew, wasn’t a failing on her part. Few, if any, could understand him in that way. The diversion from his ‘normal’ behavior as a child had always felt harsh. But as for his relationship to Leena in that regard, he was to blame, for never giving her—or anyone—the chance to see him for all that he was in his adult life. He’d been too prideful and too guarded.

The difference now, however, is that Marina’s natural alignment with his usual subdued nature, combined with this brief but undeniable indulgence in behavior outside of the norm, offers a sense of security that he’s been searching for. It makes the idea of finding equilibrium feel less elusive, as though it’s finally within his reach. The overwhelming effect feels freeing. Like a mask falling away almost.

Without another word, Tech begins to pull off his clothes. His movements are swift, almost instinctive, the need to be in the water—closer to her—growing more urgent with every passing second. He sheds his shirt, his pants, until he's left only in his undergarments. The cold air rushes against his bare skin, and for a moment, he hesitates, but Marina's eyes never leave him. There's no judgment in her gaze, only quiet encouragement, like she’s waiting for him to take this leap. 

In the final moment, he hesitates before removing his goggles. Part of him wants to keep them on, to let the ever-present recording device capture this moment for eternity. But something within him holds him back. He wants to remember this moment—not as footage, but as a memory. It feels too significant to store anywhere other than his own mind. With that thought, he takes them off, switches off the device, and sets the goggles gently down on the deck. 

He steps toward the edge of the boat, his heart racing in his chest, and then, with no more hesitation, he jumps.

The water greets him like an old friend—cool, enveloping, and vast. As he plunges beneath the surface, the world above him vanishes, swallowed by the deep. The water rushes over his head, and for the briefest moment, the world goes still. It’s as if everything that had weighed him down—the doubts, the fears, the things he couldn’t control—suddenly disappears, dissolved in the embrace of the ocean. It’s a release, a cleansing he hadn’t known he needed, as though the water was washing away all that had kept him bound to the edges of himself. 

Tech spent much of his early life on Kaminon, gazing down at the vast, murky depths of the ocean that surrounded the facilities. The cold, isolating waters seemed to stretch endlessly, a constant reminder of the distance between himself and the world beyond. Life there was quiet, distant, and impersonal. But Pabu... Pabu was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was a place of warmth, a stark contrast to the chill of Kaminon’s waters. The island felt like an embrace, welcoming him with its vibrant energy—pure, unspoiled paradise. However, this side of Pabu, where science intertwined with something deeper, something far more personal, was beginning to leave a profound impression on him. Every passing moment only deepened the impact, and Tech couldn’t help but feel the pull of something greater taking root inside him.

For a long breathless moment, he’s suspended in the glow of the bioluminescence, his body weightless and free, surrounded by the quiet hum of the sea. The light from the fish swirls around him, lighting up the dark water like scattered stars in the night sky, and it feels like the world has opened up in a way he never expected. 

When he resurfaces, gasping for air, the sound of Marina’s laugh is a gentle echo, filling the space between them with something light to break the tension. Her eyes are wide with wonder, watching him with that same unguarded joy. For a moment, neither of them speaks, the silence between them thick with the shared understanding that nothing needs to be said. They’re here, together, and that’s all that matters.

He swims up beside her now, the water rushing over his skin in waves, feeling as if he’s shedding old versions of himself with each stroke. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the fresh air tasting sweeter somehow. He looks at Marina, her face illuminated by the glow of the fish, and a thought flits through his mind: This is what living is supposed to feel like.

Tech had always been starkly aware of the artifice that surrounded his existence. He was a clone, modified in an impersonal lab and a product of science. Natural borns always seemed to contain a distance from him - they were born usually of a loving dynamic. They were blessed with the ability to age naturally. And although his friend had found a way to slow the effects of the aging process, it felt daunting to be granted a normal life. The weight of his past—of the mistakes, the distance he himself constructed, the doubts he held about himself—seems small now, insignificant in the face of this. The only thing that matters is the water, the stars, and the woman beside him, so effortlessly radiant in her joy. 

Tech’s heart pounds in his chest, the pulse a constant thrum that resonates deep within him. The water is cold, the stars overhead seem distant and infinite, but it's Marina's presence that’s pulling him in, urging him to move closer, to close the space between them. It's not just about the warmth of her body, or the desire to be near her. It’s the need to feel something, anything, that’s real. The weightlessness of the water, the energy crackling between them, it’s too much to ignore, too much to just let hang there, especially when inside his mind is screaming ‘thank you’ over and over again for making him feel more seen than he ever has in his life.

He reaches out, his hand brushing against her arm. His fingertips feel a spark, like the air between them is charged, and the contact sends a rush of heat through him. He’s never felt this kind of urge before—this desperation to just be closer, to press into her, to feel her, to know she’s there, anchored and alive next to him. It’s as though he’s been starved of physical connection for so long, and now, with her so near, it’s like every inch of his body is screaming for it.

“Marina,” he says, his voice tight, rough with the need that’s building inside him. “I—” He swallows, the words tangled in his throat, unsure how to articulate this raw, overwhelming feeling. But he knows one thing: the space between them just became charged with a need for something physical. His chest aches with the craving to be closer, to feel her warmth, the reality of her proximity like a release of something that’s been buried deep in him for too long.

Marina looks at him, her gaze steady, and for a moment, it’s as if she’s waiting for him to make the first move. Without thinking, he closes the distance between them, his hand finding her arm, his fingers wrapping around her like he's trying to ground himself. He feels the slight shiver of her skin under his touch, and it only makes the urgency build. He can’t pull back, can’t stop himself.

Marina’s hand lands on his chest, just above his heart, and the simple touch sends a tremor through him. The sensation reverberates through his entire body, and it's almost overwhelming, how much he needs to feel her, how much he needs something real in the midst of the quiet chaos swirling inside him. He leans in, his movements sharp, as if he can’t help himself, like the pull to her is magnetic, primal.

His hand moves to the back of her neck, fingers digging lightly into her skin, and it’s all he can do not to pull her entirely into him. He needs the contact, needs to close the gap, to feel the solidity of her presence in a way that settles the wildness inside him. The space between them has become unbearable, a tension he can’t release, and as he presses closer, her body beneath his fingers feels like the only thing that can ground him.

They don’t speak, not yet. The air is thick with the weight of what’s unacknowledged, but neither of them moves away. Instead, Tech closes his eyes for a brief moment, just to feel her—her warmth, her breath, the way her body shifts against his, anchoring him to this shared experience. And in that moment, with the rush of water surrounding them, with the glow of bioluminescence swirling around them like stars, he realizes that he’s no longer just existing. He’s alive, and this need, this undeniable pull, has nothing to do with the past or the future. It’s just the here, the now, and the quiet hum of the connection between them.

The only thing he knows is that he needs this physiciality—her—and for once, he's not afraid to reach for it.

Despite the challenge of maintaining his balance while treading water, Tech's focus sharpens as his hand slides down to her lower back, his fingers pressing into the warmth of her skin. With a surge of passion, he pulls her toward him with a strength, crashing his lips onto hers. In that instant, as though overcome by a wave of pure euphoria, she mirrors his intensity, returning the embrace with equal fervor. The world around them blurs, their connection crackling in the water like an electric charge, each kiss more desperate, more consuming than the last.

Tech can feel Marina’s fingers carding through the hair on the back of his head, her nails scratching through to his scalp. The feeling makes him groan at how electrifying the stimulus is. In return his grip on her back grows more intense, his fingers digging into the toned skin. He can feel her pressed against the entire length of his body. The chain around her waist, the piercing of her navel, and-

He pulls away quickly, mind having caught up with the experiences his body was undergoing. He laughs. Loudly and awkwardly as it feels foreign to do so. His hand shifted from her shoulder to cup one of her breasts, illuminated by the glow around them. “My, this is a fascinating discovery,” he hummed out, enjoying both the weight and size of her breast in his palm, but also the way the small metal through her peaks caught the light. His thumb trails over the stud and the sound of the purr leaving her lips renews that need once more. “Tech…” she whispers, head lulling back as she gives him more room to notice the way dark hair clings to her shoulder or dimples appear in the corner of her cheeks. The thin white scar running across her chin catches his eye as his thumb trails over the line. 

“You are positively exquisite,” he hums out, lips finding her pulse as he continues to let his hands roam. Everything is soft skin, cool lapping water and the beauty of nature around them. But then he hesitates. “Is it alright to keep going? I hadn’t fully anticipated how much emotional weight this could carry for you, especially with your past and your grief. I want to make sure I’m being respectful of that,” he says thoughtfully.

She looks at him for a moment, as if pondering the words. Tech briefly wonders if he has ruined this wonderful experience by asking but just when he goes to once again speak her hands grab him, dragging him beneath the waves as Tech holds his breath. He soon feels her lips pressing against his once more, this time under the waves. Near his feet he can feel the occasional fin of one of the mōlī fish swimming closer to them. That all fades as both his hands cradle her face, attempting to maintain the connection as long as possible with the buoyancy pushing them to the surface. 

His legs tangle with hers, her hair moving around the two of them as he feels the full extent of her soft skin. Marina’s one hand settles on his shoulder as the other lands just above his waist, her chest firmly pressed against his own. Opening his eyes ever so slightly he can only make out the brief shape under the haze of the salt water as it burns his eyes but with the glow of the fish and her body so close he does not care. 

Before long, the need for air catches up with them, pulling them both back to the surface. Tech gasps deeply, filling his lungs, and Marina does the same, her eyes fluttering open once more.

“While I appreciate your concern, I assure you I am no blushing maiden,” she says with a smile. “This may not have been my agenda tonight, but the deviation is certainly pleasant.”

Tech chuckles, a sound that feels lighter than it has in a long time, as he instinctively pulls her waist closer, their bodies still aligned as they tread water in the gentle ebb of the waves. The ocean tonight is unusually calm, soothing in its quiet rhythm, and he finds himself grateful for the stillness.

The moment lingers between them, and for the first time, Tech realizes something he hadn’t before. It hadn’t been until that moment earlier—the fleeting second when he almost leaned in to kiss her—that he understood the desire that had been quietly building inside him. He hadn’t known he wanted to kiss her until that exact moment, but now, the feeling is undeniable, like a spark igniting within him. He hadn’t expected it, hadn’t planned for it, but as he holds her close, the sensation feels natural, almost inevitable. He feels the pull of something deeper than mere camaraderie, something he hadn’t let himself recognize until now.

Crosshair was right. He did figure it out. 

Tech hesitates for a moment, the weight of the moment settling around them. He pulls her a little closer, his voice quieter now, the sincerity clear.

"I really enjoyed that," he admits, his words slipping out before he can stop them. "More than I expected, honestly." He looks down for a moment, then meets her eyes, the hesitation still lingering. "But I want to make sure—did you mind? Was it too much?"

Marina holds his gaze, her expression thoughtful. After a beat, she shakes her head, her voice steady but soft. "No, I didn’t mind. It felt natural. Unexpected, but not unwelcome."

A wave of relief washes over Tech, but then something else rises within him, something he hadn’t anticipated. He shifts slightly, his brow furrowing as he considers her words. "I have to ask," he says quietly, "Is this the first time you’ve done something like this, since Keiron?"

The question hangs between them, sensitive and careful, but it feels right to ask. He doesn't mean to pry, but his concern for her feels more important than his own discomfort.

Marina’s expression changes, a flicker of something he can’t quite place passing through her eyes. She takes a deep breath, her gaze dropping for just a moment before she looks back at him, her voice softer now.

"No," she says slowly. "I’ve maintained a few casual physical relationships since Keiron. Nothing serious, nothing like this." She pauses, her gaze steady, vulnerable in a way Tech hadn’t expected. "What we just shared is certainly more gratifying. It’s more than I thought I was ready for, but at the same time, it feels right."

Tech takes in her words, feeling a warmth spread through him, tempered with an understanding that runs deeper than he anticipated. He nods slowly, meeting her gaze, as if trying to take in everything she’s just shared.

Tech feels a wave of something new course through him, and it’s not just the gentle pull of the ocean around them. The air between them feels different now, the unspoken tension palpable in a way that’s impossible to ignore. He searches her face, looking for some indication of what’s next.

“Marina,” he begins slowly, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “I don’t think we can just pretend that didn’t happen. That moment. The way it felt.”

She meets his gaze, steady but thoughtful, clearly processing the same thing. "No, I don’t think we can," she agrees quietly, her voice clear, but there’s a certain weight to her words. "It’s strange, isn’t it? How quickly things shifted. But it didn’t feel wrong. Not for a second."

Tech lets out a breath, his chest a little tight but he appreciates her honesty. "I don’t know if this is how we expected things to go, but... it felt important. Even if it wasn’t part of some grand, traditional idea of what this is supposed to look like."

Marina nods, her lips curling slightly into a soft, knowing smile. "I’ve never been one for the 'song and dance' of romance," she says with a quiet laugh. "I think we’ve both spent enough time trying to live by everyone else’s expectations." She pauses for a moment, her eyes flicking away to the horizon before returning to him. "But this—what just happened—feels like it should be part of what we’re building. Not in spite of what’s come before, but because of it. We don’t need to complicate things with rules that don’t fit us."

Tech takes in her words, a light dawning in his chest. "So you believe we should alter this arrangement, then? Make it something more physical? Even if it’s undefined, without the typical build-up or structure?"

She shrugs, her expression open. "Why not? You and I are unlike everyone else in many ways. And sometimes the most honest connections are the ones that don’t follow a script." She pauses, then adds, "If that’s what you want,"

Tech feels a sense of relief, mixed with a deep sense of understanding. "I think I do," he says quietly, the words simple but carrying a weight of truth. "I think I’ve been fighting it, mostly because I truly didn’t understand what I was feeling, but this feels like something we should lean into. Even if it’s not how others would expect."

Marina smiles, the tension between them easing as she moves a little closer. "Then let’s stop fighting it," she says, her voice low and assured.

Tech looks at her, his expression serious now, the weight of the conversation settling in. "I agree but," he begins, his voice quiet but firm, "I want you to know... with all of this being so... undefined between us, we’ll have to be honest with each other. No matter what happens."

Marina tilts her head, her gaze never leaving his, as if trying to read the depth of his words. She doesn’t rush to respond, but her eyes soften, a subtle understanding passing between them.

"I mean it," Tech continues, his brow furrowing slightly. "If we’re doing this, whatever that may entail, I need to know we can always talk—no matter how messy or complicated things get. I don’t want to end up misinterpreting something or leaving anything unsaid."

Marina nods slowly, her expression thoughtful but open. "I agree," she says, her voice steady. "I do not intend to play games. If we’re going to do this, we need to be able to be upfront about what we want, what we need even when it’s uncomfortable." she paused for a moment before chuckling and saying, “although you’ve been fairly blunt with me, as I have with you, so I do not perceive it to be a problem,” 

Tech lets out a soft laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing at her words. There’s a small, reassuring comfort in her response, something that makes him feel more certain about the path they’re stepping onto, even without a clear map.

“You’re right,” he agrees, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Bluntness is definitely something we seem to have in common.” His gaze softens as he looks at her, his voice becoming more earnest.Tech takes a small, measured breath, his mind ticking through the conversation with a careful precision. As much as the moment feels natural, the lack of structure still pulls at him, and his desire to understand everything clearly urges him to address it head-on.

"Marina," he begins, his tone calm but purposeful. "Before we proceed any further, I need to ask. Do you have any preferences when it comes to the physical aspects of a relationship? Boundaries, expectations, or anything that’s important to you?"

Marina’s eyes narrow slightly, as if assessing the seriousness of his question, before giving a small nod. She seems unbothered by the clinical nature of his inquiry, perhaps even appreciating it. "I think it's important to be clear about things," she responds, her voice steady but thoughtful. "I’ve had casual experiences, as I mentioned, but nothing that had a real depth or consistency. Certainly nothing with this level of familiarity. So, I suppose I don’t have any rigid preferences, but I’d want to make sure things are mutual, respectful. I don’t need anything to be forced, and I don’t want it to feel transactional. You know me well enough to recognize that I would likely be honest about liking or disliking certain kinds of physical affection," She pauses, her gaze meeting his with a quiet intensity. "Does that make sense?"

Tech nods slowly, processing her words with his characteristic focus. "Yes," he says, his voice softening slightly. "That makes sense. I don’t want anything to feel rushed or uncomfortable. And I don’t want to make assumptions. If we’re going to move forward, I need to know that we’re both aligned on what we’re comfortable with." He looks at her directly, making sure she knows he’s fully listening, waiting for her response.

She tilts her head slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she considers his words. "I think the most important thing for me is communication," she replies, her voice steady. "Being open about what we want and making sure we’re both on the same page as we move forward. I’m not expecting this to be a traditional relationship, but if it’s something we want to continue, I need to know we’re being honest about what we need physically."

Tech takes a moment to process her answer, feeling a weight lift off his chest. The clarity of the conversation feels grounding, even if the connection between them is still undefined. "I agree," he responds, his voice more measured. "I don’t want to take any step without being sure we’re both comfortable and genuinely consenting to it."

There’s a brief pause, the air between them feeling calm but charged with the weight of what they’ve just discussed. Finally, Marina nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Good. I think that’s a good foundation. We’ll take it one step at a time and speak freely."

Tech meets her gaze, his mind finally easing from its earlier tension. "One step at a time," he agrees, his tone steady but sincere. "And if anything changes, we’ll talk about it."

The simplicity of the arrangement feels like a solid beginning. There are no grand promises, no rush, just the understanding that whatever happens, they’ll navigate it together—honestly, carefully, and with mutual respect.

Before either of them can say more, he finds himself pulling her gently into an embrace, his arms slipping around her waist as the waves continue their steady rhythm around them. The water around them shifts with the movement, a soft swirl of sensation as they float, bodies close but not suffocating.

For a moment, Tech feels the weight of everything—the complexities, the unspoken things—seem to vanish. It’s just them now, this quiet, shared space in the water where they don’t have to explain anything, don’t have to fit any particular mold.

Marina lets out a soft sigh, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders as she leans into him. He feels the warmth of her body through the coolness of the water, the rhythm of their breathing synchronized in a quiet pulse.

“It’s strange,” she murmurs after a beat, her voice almost lost in the hush of the night. “I never thought I’d find someone who... just understands. No expectations. No need for grand gestures. Or even explanations of aspects of who I am.”

Tech exhales slowly, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t think I would either.” He pulls her in a bit closer, just enough to feel the reassurance of her presence. “But this feels right. This... uncomplicated but comfortable space.”

Her head rests against his, and for a moment, the only sound is the gentle lapping of the water against their bodies. It's a simple connection, but there’s something so deeply profound about it. No words are needed, just the quiet understanding that whatever this is, it’s real.

He closes his eyes for a second, letting the sensation of the moment settle within him. When he opens them again, Marina is still there, her gaze soft, her expression peaceful. It’s as though the uncertainty has melted away, leaving only the quiet certainty of their shared space in the water.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice quiet but filled with meaning. “For allowing me space to feel comfortable,”

Tech shakes his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Ironic,” he pauses with a small shake of his head and a chuckle, “I was going to say the same to you.”

She returns the smile, and for a brief moment, everything feels perfectly balanced. Whatever happens next, he knows they’ll continue to navigate it side by side.

As the ocean gently rocks them, Tech tightens his hold on her, not out of need, but because he wants to. He wants this—whatever it may turn into. Nudging his head along hers, for the first time in a long time, he feels like he can let go of the weight of expectation, allowing himself to simply be present.

Unguarded.

As a Reminder this Lovely Art is by @leenathegreengirl!

NEXT Part>>>> HERE

[sfstranslations]

how hard(?) would you say it is to translate? Ive been kinda curious about that, like does anything get lost in translation/ just not make that much sense without knowing the og language? or anything like that? 🤔

Hm, maybe 7 or 8 on a scale of 10? Though it can easily go higher at times, haha. (Always when Sung Hyunjae is in a scene because his name is a misspelling and it pisses me off.* This is a joke. Only half, though.) Basic word-by-word dictionary lookup is simple, which is why machine translators can do it well enough. But then you have to string all of it together in a sentence where you:

figure out and find a way to convey any difference in connotation between this specific chosen word and other words that mean the same thing (think the connotations of "regal" VS "royal" in English), and

do the same as above, but on a sentence-wide level translating the nuance of a particular grammar/sentence structure (thousand and one sentence endings in Korean, I swear -_-), and

make sure distinct character voices are retained or translated from the original Korean (think Song Taewon's stiff formality VS Han Yoojin's more casual speech VS Sung Hyunjae's middle-aged rich guy-type speech), and

make sure this sentence flows with the overall paragraph/chapter.

All those priorities have to be juggled throughout the chapter and add up to make it a fairly hard task. It definitely gets easier with practice once you're more familiar with the language (especially the nuance/connotation stuff), though, and I did get lucky in that my native language shares some aspects with Korean so the grammar is easier to intuitively grasp. Of course, I'm still learning, so I do have times I need to call in more experienced speakers for help.

(I definitely wouldn't say I'm good with the language period. Recently I've tentatively picked up a new novel—people following my personal blog will know which one—and it turns out I'm familiar with the way Geunseo talks and familiar with the vocabulary typical to dungeon fantasy novels, but kind of. Majorly hopeless when it comes to other stuff. The phrasing is juuust off enough that I keep getting tripped up and taking thrice as long to understand what's being said.)

There's definitely stuff that wouldn't make sense in English—certain idioms, cultural stuff, and all that, but that's why I try to localize wherever possible and add footnotes with relevant info/links if not. And there is stuff that gets lost in translation—you can look at the chapter titles from 302–307 for an example of that, where the joke is much more immediately obvious in Korean but had to be translated differently as chapter title VS in-chapter text messages and lost the clear parallel. I also remember being grumpy back during the virtual reality dungeon arc because Yoohyun would use 네놈 (ne-nom but typically pronounced ni-nom, a derogatory way to say "you", LMAO) towards Sigma and there was no concise way to get that across in English except having him be aggressive and direct. Especially since he isn't the type to swear by word of god, so I couldn't have him addressing him with "asshole" or "jerk" to convey it.

TL;DR: Fairly hard to translate, but gets easier with time, and there is stuff that's lost or difficult to understand, but I do what I can to make it understandable in English!

--

* Sung Hyunjae uses "ae" at the end, but that implies it's 성현재, which is wrong—the correct spelling is 성현제, which should be "Sung Hyunje". (If you wanted to go the full Revised Romanization route, it'd be Seong Hyeonje, but I've weathered my share of name changes and that's a step too far even for me.) I've been meaning to make a poll about changing it like with the Lauchitas spelling, but I keep forgetting.

[fermented-writers-block]

Simulation Assessment Model​

Randomized Orb Value: G2Z4E11​

Projection Test Type: C​

History Proposal:​

On the train, denizens take many forms. Dogs, rock people, paper cranes, giant pig babies, and more. Although all of them are artificial beings projected through orbs on a perpetual train, it is an unfortunate fact that denizens only live a "normal lifespan" for whatever they are created as. Corgis have an average lifespan of 14 years, and that is about as long as Atticus will live for example.

The Cat, however, is an outlier.

Well over a hundred and fifty years old - in human years, not cat years - her unusual longevity shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. While no official statements nor more episodes have been made to help shed light on the mystery, I would like to preface my theory with a bit of context:

One of the oldest traditions in software is what is known as a "Hello, World!" program. In total, this program instructs a computer to display a message similar to the titular "Hello, World!" Simple and succinct, it is one of if not the first program students of new programming languages learn how to code. And with its simplicity, "Hello, World!" can be used to ensure the code compilation software has been installed properly and that the operator is using it correctly.

Similarly famous and historic is the "Utah teapot." Coming from the world of 3D modeling and computer graphics, it possess features familiar to many simple teapots: a spout, a handle, and a curvy shape. Lacking a need for surface textures, capable of casting shadows on itself, and possessing a decently complex yet easy to make model, it has been regarded a "perfect self contained object to test the creation of three-dimensional images." Even with today's advanced technology, it is still regarded as an effective standard reference model for beginners and experimenters alike.

Moving into the burgeoning field of 3D printing, one can find "Benchy," as well as its upcoming replacement "Boaty." Respectively a boat and a bench, these two unofficial models have been growing in popularity over the years, often finding themselves among many people's first prints. Either on a newly set up 3D printer, or with a new 3D printing material one hasn't used before. Whether through measuring a Benchy/Boaty's dimensional accuracy, checking its surface quality, and observing other attributes like overhangs (or the lack thereof), they are shaping up to become the next "Hello, World!" and Utah teapot.

In other words, the latest in a line of near ubiquitous benchmark tests for assessing the performance of a system upon first use.

With that established, picture a staircase where each step is a level of technology. From mere software to virtual models to physical printed objects, a few more steps is all it takes to climb aboard the Train. Memory tapes that hold an immersive snapshot of a person's mindscape. Wormholes that can disintegrate and reassemble people across time and space. An unknown level of influence over an entire parallel reality of reflections with all its existentially terrifying implications.

Orb-generated pocket dimension environments and so many intelligent and thinking people as denizens.

Maybe the reason the Cat doesn't have a normal lifespan like other denizens is because she isn't a 'proper' denizen in the first place. After all, the aforementioned benchmark tests lack the extra bells and features the systems they evaluate are capable of making when pushed. The original Utah teapot model didn't even have a base. So it's not hard to imagine the train's denizen creation system might have forgone extraneous programming like an artificial 'normal lifespan' limitation while performing startup checks, way back when the train first came online.

Thus, my proposal is that the Cat had started out as a benchmark projection for non-lifespan-related test requirements. Maybe her template just lacks the "normal lifespan" programming, and/or the "normal lifespan" programming was tested with a different, unfortunate benchmark projection. Either way, she served her vital system evaluation purpose and then got set aside as a no-longer critical part of the train. From that rock bottom, she could only go up from there. With a life as long as hers and having seen as much of the train as she has, there's so many potential answers for how she eventually transformed into the French con artist kitty we know today.

Like, for example, her collecting of many 'things.' It may seem like that's simply the norm she’s settled into by the present, but Simon's comment about how "she's collecting again" suggests it is actually her slipping into a bad old habit. As though rampant collecting is a coping mechanism for something. While the guilt from leaving Simon behind would easily explain such regression in behavior, therein lies the question of where said behavior came from in the first place. 

If you ask me, I cannot help but look at the train of thought that started this all: Samantha lacking the programmed lifespan denizens have due to being a test object. Aka an immortal amongst denizens who will one day die, passengers who either die on the train or eventually disembark, and even car environments that are affected by time in ways she isn't.

Certainly makes one think about her having once gotten close enough with Simon for her to tell him to call her "Samantha," but now emphasizes to everyone she meets to merely know her as "THE Cat"...

[turmie]

Unpopular Opinion, but I honestly believe in terms of the Despicable Me movie series, they really should've kept Antonio and Margo together.

They shouldn't have made him cheat on her or something. What would've been more interesting is if they actually had a decent relationship and we were able to see them still together and growing up as people as they both get older. Because let's honest:

You're telling me you wouldn't wanna see Margo---a girl who's dad is a villain (at least formerly) dating a guy who's dad is also a villain? And on top of that, their dads don't like each other? That's so much conflict material we were missing! And there could've been chances for Gru and Antonio to realize they're not so different (they literally wear similar outfits, lol)

Margo could've had a Brainiac of a boyfriend but noooooo---they had to scrap the opportunity. Boo.

You're telling me that Margo having a hispanic boyfriend who has a terrifying IQ and a penchant for making horrifying game inspired inventions would NOT have been a good idea?

I could very much see it being a thing where Antonio's father--Eduardo (AKA El Macho)--doesn't think that Antonio is manly enough because Antonio likes gaming and etc instead of the traditionally masculine things Eduardo is into---but Margo supports Antonio's ambitions.

In the second Despicable Me movie, Antonio said he wanted to play video games for a living. I think a very cool turnaround for that is for him to create a virtual reality-like headset that's attached to some sort of blaster ray that helps him automatically target an opponent or something.

And because he is Hispanic, I could see Margo slowly becoming better and better at Spanish for until she becomes fluent, and they have conversations in front of everyone else where no one but them understands what they're talking about. And the better she got, the more excited he gets because she's learning his language.

There was SO much they could've done with him AND THEY DIDN'T TAKE IT--UGHHHHH!

[triptychgrip]

In Totality: Yuuri’s family secretly learns Russian in order to surprise Viktor at their wedding

Though I teased this story last week, real life sadly got in the way of my being able to post in time for Day 6 of Viktuuri Week (‘Happiness’). But, better late than never!

You can now read In Totality, my one-shot about how Yuuri gets his family/friends to secretly learn Russian in order to surprise Viktor during the Katsuki-Nikiforov wedding reception. In addition to chosen family feels, this story features Yurio stepping up to the plate to ensure that no one butchers his native language, the Nishigori triplets acting with astonishing levels of independence, Viktor doing some scheming of his own, and Yurio/Otabek/Mila tallying an Official Cry Count at the wedding. Below is an excerpt that I hope piques your interest in this story, or my other Yuri!!! on Ice fics!

—

“If anyone saw the most recent videos I have on my phone, they’d be thoroughly creeped out,” Yuuko dead-panned, switching to Japanese temporarily.

Mari smiled, and even Yurio cracked a grin from his side of the laptop screen. 

This was her and Yuuko’s third speaking practice session with him, and just a few days ago, the Ice Tiger had sent the two of them a number of videos in which he’d taken close-up footage of his lips while he’d pronounced different vocab words and sentences. 

So far, one of the hardest parts of learning elementary Russian had been training her brain to give the correct signals to her mouth to form the right shapes. 

They were so different from the ones used in Japanese!

 “I don’t know if you can tell, but I took that last one in the locker room, and Viktor walked in just as I was about to start speaking. I told him I was making a video for my dentist. What kind of creep dentist would ask for hand-made videos, anyway?”

Yuuko laughed so hard that she spewed water over her diligently-recorded notes, and Mari moved out of the line of fire just in time.

Once they’d all settled down, Yurio eyed her, appraisingly.

“Ok, your turn. Ready?”

Mari cringed but nodded, having to remind herself that she’d seen this particular teenager in a number of unflattering situations. Namely, those post-temple onsen soaks, two summers ago. 

So they were on even ground.

…somewhat.

One of the realities of learning a language was resigning yourself to the fact that you were bound to look and sound dumb, especially in the beginning. With her brother’s encouragement, she’d told herself to lean into that as much as she could.

“Hello. My name is Yuri, and I live in St. Petersburg, Russia. How about yourself?”Yurio began.

She took a second to think, trying to recall the content from the last few Meiji Academy lessons that she’d completed. 

Sohma-san, Kitagawa-san, and the other virtual instructors were excellent and always made time to answer questions well after the lesson had ended. But even so, there was something far more freeing in being able to practice this stuff with Yurio. 

[horsethoughts]

Blog Post #3! Due 2/13/25

Why do we refer to data collection and profiling as “progressive” despite its tendency to be biased against Black Americans and other POC? (Question based on Benjamin’s “Race After Technology” and Noble’s “Algorithms of Oppression”)

Technology, as put by Benjamin (2019), has a perceived “cloak of objectivity.” The tools, algorithms, and forms of data collection used in our reality are regarded as objective since they cannot “see” race. Technology as a whole, in my opinion, is often seen as universal and for everyone. Many people see phones, search engines, and other “tech” as tech without human involvement. Most people, including me, don’t think beyond what technology does for us—it just does, and we don’t question how it was made, who made it, and what biases might be embedded in the “cool, advanced, and innovative” new ais, virtual assistants, and search engines.

California gang database—why does law enforcement keep inaccurate databases that are difficult to change and easy to add onto? (Question Based on Benjamin’s “Race After Technology” and YJC report)

Gang databases, like the one featured in the report, seem to have a larger purpose in surveilling POC, namely Latino communities. The databases’ flawed design is effective for upholding inaccurate narratives of Latino and Black involvement in gang activity. The recording methods, which make it easy for these populations to be put in the database, inflates the true number of people with gang involvement. While a shot in the dark, I additionally think the “ease” provided by the broadness of the gang database is something that is seen as beneficial to the prison industry. I’m not entirely sure how it works, but I would assume that the number of people there to arrest/detain from the database boosts private prisons. The YJC report states that these databases are “widely used without evaluating their cost effectiveness or effectiveness in increasing community safety.” the database’s purpose is less about community safety and more about control over narratives and individuals.

How does the digital divide myth that POC, particularly Black Americans, are less interested in the internet still linger today? How is this idea of the digital divide reflected in social media? (Question based on Everett’s “The Revolution Will be Digitized”)

In Everett’s work (2002), she discusses the sphere of “cyberspace” often being associated with whiteness, with white users seen as the dominant demographic for technology and the internet. While this work was written about earlier internet use, I still see this pattern on social media. Specifically, I see this in the artist community on various social media sites such as  Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. Something I’ve noticed is how often people are “surprised” to learn a particular artist/creator is Black if they’ve previously never disclosed it through being faceless or simply not stating this. I would say that this idea of the digital divide still persists because of our perception of internet/social media use. In my example of Black creators, the “surprise” in them being Black most likely comes from the assumption that they would be white. This is created from the “facelessness” associated with the internet.

In “Algorithms of Oppression,” Noble writes on racist Google Search results and Google’s position that it is “not responsible for its algorithm.” Then who is “responsible”? Can any one person/entity be held responsible for flawed algorithms? (Question based on Noble’s “Algorithms of Oppression”)

While I don’t think any entity can be responsible for such flawed algorithms, that only points to a more significant issue in their structure. Noble (2018) writes that “racism and sexism are part of the architecture and language of technology.”; algorithms and technology are based on flawed human ideas and prejudices and then reflect those prejudices. This makes it important to question and not solely rely on these systems. Responsibility, in this case, comes with doubting the system and checking it twice to see if the information it presents is accurate and unbiased. Google’s responsibility for changing the search results falls on them because they trusted the algorithm to be unbiased, which was false. Works Cited:

Noble, S. U. (2018). Algorithms of oppression: How search engines reinforce racism. New York University Press.

Benjamin, R. (2019). Race after technology: Abolitionist tools for the new Jim code. Polity.

Everett, A. (2002). The Revolution Will Be Digitized: Afrocentricity and the Digital Public Sphere. 

Youth Justice Coalition (2012). Tracked and trapped. Youth of color, gang databases, and gang injunctions. https://youthjusticela.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/TrackedandTrapped.pdf

[haggishlyhagging]

[Hag’s note: The newly-created word “unalive” sprung to mind while reading the first paragraph of this section.]

Euphemizing what speakers perceive to be negative or repugnant aspects of the world is a familiar discourse tactic, and I've discussed it at various points in this book. Euphemisms pretty up people, objects, behaviors, and events perceived by members of a culture as bad, immoral, or terrible, and they allow us to distance ourselves conceptually from "them." We forget that we are "they." To gauge the degree of repugnance with which people perceive someone or something, we need only count how many euphemisms are available in the language. Death and dying, for example, aren't perceived as celebratory events in western cultures, and we have numerous euphemisms to avoid mentioning death explicitly: "pass away," "gone to one's reward,' "pushing up daisies," "gone to heaven," "meeting St. Peter," "crossed the final bridge."

Poverty and aging are also aspects of the real world speakers euphemize. In a society that boasts of the wealth only a few actually enjoy, poor people are a repugnant embarrassment, and expressions that suppress explicit reference to the people who live in poverty proliferate apace with superficial attempts to provide them with better living conditions: "the poor," "the poverty-stricken," "the homeless," "the economically disadvantaged." These descriptions make both victims and agents invisible as people and hide the fact that the structure of u.s. society perpetuates poverty. Poverty itself is an abstraction made purposeful agent in poverty-stricken, in which the human agents and victims are suppressed, as though the condition "struck" the unnamed. Because PUD values youth, or the appearance of youth, especially in women, English provides euphemisms for aging that hide our underlying fear of the process: "the elderly," "senior citizens," "advanced in age," and "over the hill." Many people believe that whatever they refuse to talk about doesn't exist or is less real and euphemism is one device for avoiding whatever realities they wish to deny.

Neil Postman has maintained that "euphemisms are a means through which a culture may alter its imagery and by doing so change its style, its priorities, and its values" (1982, 262), but, as the editors of Time magazine observed, "the persistent growth of euphemism . . . represents a danger to thought and action, since its fundamental intent is to deceive" (1982, 256). But western culture perceives some aspects of reality as so horrible that euphemizing them is virtually impossible, and the descriptions that follow these negative concepts dehumanize the people victimized by them. One of those things-that-cannot-be-euphemized is the idea of being incapacitated or disabled in some way. The words and phrases that describe physical limitations reflect the negative attitudes we've learned. We think of being able to do something as normal, and being incapable as inherently negative. Mobility is positively valued; immobility is negative. Conceptually, able/not able are fixed in a binary, either/or relation in which ability to perform is assumed. The way we conceptualize abilities focuses our vocabulary negatively on what we cannot do, on what we lack, rather than what we can do. When all or part of our bodies can't perform in ways thought of as normal, we are described as disabled. There are no positive ways of thinking or talking about the abilities of people who have physical or anatomical limitations; what they can't do becomes their only identifying characteristic and their many other qualities are conceptually suppressed.

People who cannot perform one physical activity or another are thought of as "defective" or "deformed." They are "disabled," "crippled," "handi-capped," or "physically-challenged." We have no positive ways to describe something we cannot do. There aren't even any neutral terms in the English vocabulary. The only phrases that point us toward a different way of thinking about the range of human abilities are "differently abled," and the acronym T.A.B.s, 'temporarily able-bodied', which reminds the able-bodied that an automobile accident, a fire or disease may make them suddenly unable to perform acts they take for granted. Being able is good; being unable is bad, and the idea that there are events in our lives we cannot control frightens us. Yet, there are areas of our lives over which we don't have control, and some disabled people consider the phrase "differently abled" to be a ridiculous euphemism because there are things they cannot do and this fact is a reality of their lives they have to deal with every day. Euphemizing their reality doesn't change their lives; shifting the focus away from what they can't do to what they can is a useless pretense. As Catherine Odette has commented, saying that she is "differently abled" suggests that she's able to perform differently, that, instead of walking up a hill, she can fly to the top.

-Julia Penelope, Speaking Freely: Unlearning the Lies of the Fathers’ Tongues

[lucianhuntress]

Day 12. Boothill x Reader: 43. “You look really good, by the way.

It's a modern AU I have in my mind.

The Golden Hour never sleeps; the golden lights nearly sparkle against the soft colors of twilight up in the sky, never changing. You still remember your first time entering this virtual reality and how you admired every single detail like you were supposed to; you’re here on a work trip to learn about architecture as you are a proud employee at Belobog Architecture Studio. 

Earlier today, you agreed to Boothill’s date invitation and now you are supposed to meet up at the bar in the Aideen Park. You are first to arrive and you take a seat as you wait for the bartender to mix you something to ease the excited bubbling in your chest. The atmosphere is lively; people are dancing, drinking and enjoying the swingy music the band is playing at the round stage. 

You had spent a good amount of credits and bought an outfit, new hairstyle and makeup for your avatar. This is a date after all and you want to make an impression; you didn’t really pack any outfits fit for a date for your work trip, so in real life you wouldn’t be able to drop jaws without flying across the world back to your apartment to raid your wardrobe. You have grown to enjoy the ease of putting makeup on by just setting it up from the UI that pops into your field of view if you so desire.

The bartender slides the drink across the counter into your hands, the credits worth of one drink leaving your wallet in the exchange and you thank him with a pleased smile as you lift the glass to your lips.

“Muddle-fudger…” you hear someone familiar cursing a few steps away from you and you turn to notice Boothill walking over to you and you can feel the fury of the storm following him.

You shrink in your seat as he orders himself something fiery and if you didn't know him you'd guess motor oil would be the choice of his drink; his avatar in the virtual reality is a cyborg cowboy. 

“I will shoot the shirtbag who installed another language filter into this forking avatar,” continues his lone rant, not really paying you any attention. “This one night when I want everythin’ to be forking awesome.” He turns towards you and freezes as his eyes slowly take in your new appearance.

“Hey,” you say sheepishly and take a sip of the drink you ordered previously while batting your eyelashes innocently.

“So,” he finally manages to say, his cheeks turning slightly rosy and you wonder if you, “sorry about that forkin’ rant. Those sons of nice ladies did me dirty once again.” He briefly averts his gaze but you notice his obvious side eye still appreciating your looks, “you look really good by the way,” he adds a tad quieter.

You feel a warm glow on your cheeks and you smile over your drink, “thank you.” At least you can count your brief shopping a success. “Shall we go somewhere then?”

The bartender slings Boothill a small glass of something warm and dark, which he downs in an instant like he was parched, “sure, let’s forking go.”

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

How NASA is using virtual reality to prepare for science on Moon

When astronauts walk on the moon, they'll serve as the eyes, hands, and boots-on-the-ground interpreters supporting the broader teams of scientists on Earth. NASA is leveraging virtual reality to provide high-fidelity, cost-effective support to prepare crew members, flight control teams, and science teams for a return to the moon through its Artemis campaign.

The Artemis III Geology Team, led by principal investigator Dr. Brett Denevi of the Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory in Laurel, Maryland, participated in an Artemis III Surface Extra-Vehicular VR Mini-Simulation, or "sim" at NASA's Johnson Space Center in Houston in the fall of 2024. The sim brought together science teams and flight directors and controllers from Mission Control to carry out science-focused moonwalks and test the way the teams communicate with each other and the astronauts.

"There are two worlds colliding," said Dr. Matthew Miller, co-lead for the simulation and exploration engineer, Amentum/JETSII contract with NASA. "There is the operational world and the scientific world, and they are becoming one."

NASA mission training can include field tests covering areas from navigation and communication to astronaut physical and psychological workloads. Many of these tests take place in remote locations and can require up to a year to plan and large teams to execute. VR may provide an additional option for training that can be planned and executed more quickly to keep up with the demands of preparing to land on the moon in an environment where time, budgets, and travel resources are limited.

Field testing won't be going away. Nothing can fully replace the experience crew members gain by being in an environment that puts literal rocks in their hands and includes the physical challenges that come with moonwalks, but VR has competitive advantages.

The virtual environment used in the Artemis III VR Mini-Sim was built using actual lunar surface data from one of the Artemis III candidate regions. This allowed the science team to focus on Artemis III science objectives and traverse planning directly applicable to the moon.

Eddie Paddock, engineering VR technical discipline lead at NASA Johnson, and his team used data from NASA's Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter and planet position and velocity over time to develop a virtual software representation of a site within the Nobile Rim 1 region near the south pole of the moon.

Two stand-in crew members performed moonwalk traverses in virtual reality in the Prototype Immersive Technology lab at Johnson, and streamed suit-mounted virtual video camera views, hand-held virtual camera imagery, and audio to another location where flight controllers and science support teams simulated ground communications.

The crew stand-ins were immersed in the lunar environment and could then share the experience with the science and flight control teams. That quick and direct feedback could prove critical to the science and flight control teams as they work to build cohesive teams despite very different approaches to their work.

The flight operations team and the science team are learning how to work together and speak a shared language. Both teams are pivotal parts of the overall mission operations. The flight control team focuses on maintaining crew and vehicle safety and minimizing risk as much as possible. The science team, as Miller explains, is "relentlessly thirsty" for as much science as possible. Training sessions like this simulation allow the teams to hone their relationships and processes.

Denevi described the flight control team as a "well-oiled machine" and praised their dedication to getting it right for the science team. Many members of the flight control team have participated in field and classroom training to learn more about geology and better understand the science objectives for Artemis.

"They have invested a lot of their own effort into understanding the science background and science objectives, and the science team really appreciates that and wants to make sure they are also learning to operate in the best way we can to support the flight control team, because there's a lot for us to learn as well," Denevi said. "It's a joy to get to share the science with them and have them be excited to help us implement it all."

This simulation, Sparks said, was just the beginning for how virtual reality could supplement training opportunities for Artemis science. In the future, using mixed reality could help take the experience to the next level, allowing crew members to be fully immersed in the virtual environment while interacting with real objects they can hold in their hands. Now that the Nobile Rim 1 landing site is built in VR, it can continue to be improved and used for crew training, something that Sparks said can't be done with field training on Earth.

While "virtual" was part of the title for this exercise, its applications are very real.

"We are uncovering a lot of things that people probably had in the back of their head as something we'd need to deal with in the future," Miller said. "But guess what? The future is now. This is now."

IMAGE: A screen capture of a virtual reality view during the Artemis III VR Mini-Simulation. The lunar surface virtual environment was built using actual lunar surface data from one of the Artemis III candidate regions. Credit: Prototype Immersive Technology lab at NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston.