#WeatherNet

[sw5w]

Towers of Coruscant

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:02:35

[cinna-wanroll]

Finished my first artfight reference sheet! Introducing my oc Nago, a zoologist living onCoruscant during the Clone Wars. He and his boyfriend Jove, who works for Coruscant WeatherNet, join forces to rescue smuggled wildlife and get up to general shenanigans.

My artfight is Cinna-Wan-Roll, come follow me so I can attack you!

[countessofbiscuit]

It was a balmy Corrie evening, one of those that WeatherNet engineered to give the semblance of summer and boost the sale of booze. From the penthouse balcony, Fox sipped his drink, this one a few fingers taller than the last, and stared at the trail of speederlights winding towards the Federal District, at the southwest corner of which stood the Pantoran Embassy. Where his Riyo was. Was she enjoying herself at the Chairman’s birthday party, her blue skin hugged by the temperate twilight? What was she drinking? Fox imagined her in her bubbles, dancing with someone who wasn’t him.

love me some possessive Fox who pisses vinegar 

[kaasknot]

Commander Fox Week Day 6: Phantom Pain

Teen and Up

Fox/Fives, Clonecest, Hurt/comfort

@loving-fox-hours

***

“Shit,” Fox muttered, checking the weather report on his datapad.

Fives leaned back from the galley kitchen, a brow raised. “What is it?”

“The WeatherNet is allowing two hours of rain tonight.”

“Since when is that a bad thing?”

“Since living beneath Republic HQ means I don’t actually see any rain, just overflowing gutters that reek of fermented garbage.”

“...Ah. Yeah. Not exactly Kamino, is it.”

“Far from.”

Fox rubbed his knee and didn’t let himself think about it. Whatever Fives was cooking smelled better than Fox’s usual go-to of ration bars; he was curious to try it.

***

He woke in the middle of the night, his leg cramping. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as quietly as he could. Fives was still asleep, his head half buried under the pillow; Fox couldn’t appreciate the sight, not when the burning throb in his leg almost drove him to tears.

The first handful of months after the accident had been the worst in terms of pain. The medics and PT specialists had reassured him that it would fade in time, as his nerves rerouted and healed; mostly, they’d been right. There were still a few triggers, however, and changes in barometric pressure—like when the Coruscant WeatherNet planned for rain—were one of them.

He tried to ignore it. It would fade eventually, a couple hours after the rain stopped. Mental calculations ran through his head without him: if his prosthesis was hurting badly enough to wake him, then it might have already started raining; the report said it would be for two hours, then another two or so hours after that for the nerves to settle down… that would leave him, if he was lucky, with an hour of sleep before his alarm went off.

“Shit,” he muttered again, and carefully pushed aside the covers to sit up without waking Fives. Sometimes he could get it to ease off if he rubbed it. Painkillers didn’t usually do anything; it wasn’t a problem often enough for him to get a scrip for an anticonvulsant, and regular painkillers didn’t target the right receptors. He bit his lip through a spasm, hunching forward over his leg.

“S’amatter?” Fives asked, stirring.

Fox tensed. “Nothing, go back to sleep.”

But of course, Fives ignored him. He propped himself up, sleep fading fast. “No, something’s wrong.”

Fox sighed, his shoulders tense. He could shove Fives off out of pride, but that would do absolutely nothing but start a fight, and then Fives would figure it out anyway because he was smart and an asshole. “It’s just phantom pain,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m awake now. Is it your leg?” He sat up next to Fox, and Fox found himself leaning into him despite himself.

“Yeah,” he said into Fives’s shoulder. “My leg.”

“Okay.” Fives rubbed Fox’s back. Fox bit his lip against how good it felt. “Anything I can do to help?”

It had been so long since a brother had asked to help him. Fox wasn’t sure what hurt worse: the pain in his leg, or the pain in his heart. “Just—just rub my leg,” he said. “Massage the muscles in the stump, as much as you can reach, that’ll distract the nerves.”

“Sure.” Fives reached forward, and his hand was so gentle on Fox’s skin. Fox never seemed to remember how gentle Fives was with him; it was a surprise every time.

As sweet as it was, though, it wasn’t enough. “Like this,” Fox said, digging his fingers into the fascia just below his knee. The docs had told him he was lucky it was below the knee; that his long-term complications would be less severe, and the prosthesis wouldn’t be as complicated. Fox didn’t feel too lucky, but he guessed he was lucky the speeder had only crushed his foot, not the rest of him.

Fives picked it up quickly. He worked his fingers around the pickups and as deep beneath the lip of the prosthesis as his fingers could fit. Fox sighed raggedly as his nerves eased up against the conflicting signals.

“Can it come off?” Fives asked, knocking his knuckles against the prosthesis.

“Yeah, but it’s a process. Just leave it.”

“Sure.” Fives smiled wistfully, just visible in the lights of a passing speeder. “Just like when we were cadets, huh? Rubbing out growing pains.”

Fox sighed against Fives’s skin. “Been a long time since I was a cadet.”

Fives cupped the side of his neck, brushing his thumb over Fox’s cheek. “Yeah. I know.”

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

WREG-TV WEATHER OVERTIME: SATURDAY PM 8.25.2018

Miss the forecast on #WREG @3onyourside News at 10? Check our video #weatherblog #WeatherOvertime for SAT PM.

SATURDAY EVENING AUGUST 25, 2018

Hot and humid weekend and many more heated days to come as we move from August to September. More on your weekend forecast and a look at the tropics, plus more of YOUR weather pix. All coming up tonight on WREG News Channel 3 exclusive video weatherblog Weather Overtime with meteorologist Austen…

[greyias]

December 15: Playing outside in the snow (cause i find this adorable for greyias)

With the weather getting so cold this week, I felt like writing something a little festive (and also clearing out a long overdue prompt)

In some ways, it was still odd for him, staying in one place.

For almost his entire life, Theron had been on the move. He’d only really stayed on a planet just long enough for a mission, or whatever thrill he was chasing. Coruscant was probably the one planet he’d been on the longest consecutively spent the longest amount of time on, and thanks to the WeatherNet, the ecumenopolis wasn’t exactly known for its wild and erratic weather. While he was still on the move a lot for the Alliance, he was starting to get… acclimated to Odessen.

He’d noticed a certain crispness to the air when he’d returned from the Mestani sector, been taken aback by the sudden rush of color in the valley beyond the base. Reds and oranges dotting the landscape where they hadn’t been crowded out by the evergreens. The feeling it stirred in him was strange, but he did his best to ignore it. He had a job to do, and it wasn’t like the changing of the seasons was something new and noteworthy. It was just weather after all, the same that happened on just about every planet in the galaxy that wasn’t dominated by deserts or frozen wasteland.

So when he walked outside one morning a few months later to a blanket of white covering everything, he’d meant to shrug it off. It had gotten just cold enough where the snow freely stuck to the ground, and trees, and everything in between, but it wasn’t frigid and miserable like Hoth.

He caught sight of Vette, bundled up in particularly thick coat and an oversized scarf over near the cantina. Their self-appointed morale officer seemed to be organizing the more carefree spirits into some sort of snow sculpture contest. He spotted more than a few others wandering around with thermoses and cheeks just a little redder than the cold weather called for.

He was intent on continuing his search for caf — but found himself distracted from that when he spied a familiar figure overlooking the valley below. He altered his course, coming up stand next to the blonde Jedi. She shifted at his approach, the stiff pose relaxing as he settled into her space.

“So, this is where you went,” Theron commented quietly. “Was a little surprised when I didn’t find you meditating this morning.”

“I thought that I might make an exception to my daily routine to enjoy the view,” Grey replied simply, shooting him the hints of a smile in greeting.

“Come on, you’ve seen plenty of snow in your time,” he said lightly. “What makes this so special?”

Her smile flickered, brows drawing together into an inscrutable expression. He wasn’t sure if it was meant to be exasperation or contemplation, but something about it let him know he’d misstepped conversationally. She remained quiet for a few moments, subtly shifting her stance again. A little more guarded, a little less open than when he’d arrived.

“When you put it that way, I suppose it is not particularly special,” she said quietly. “It is not the first snowfall Odessen has seen, just the first one we’ve witnessed since arriving.”

He moved in a little closer, the edge of his jacket brushing against the large ornate pauldrons of her armor. She’d been out in the weather long enough for him to feel that the chill had seeped into them, even through his jacket. If he took a few extra moments to notice, her hair was lightly dusted with the soft snowfall, and her ears and nose were sporting a bright pink, indicating she had been out here for a little bit. He felt the cold air nipping at his own ears, the uncomfortable sensation just adding another reason to return indoors.

“You know it’s freezing out here,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets, subconsciously rocking on his heels.

“I suppose it might be,” she admitted.

“I was just on my way to grab some caf.” He tipped his head, past the snow sculptors, and towards the direction of the mess hall. “You want to come grab some?”

Her smile briefly flickered back, not at him, but at the revelers in the snow, before shaking her head. “I might grab some later — right now I think I’ll stay here a little longer.”

He tried to suppress the frown and disappointment at the polite rebuff, and shrugged his shoulders without removing his hands from his pockets. The action probably made him resemble a pouting ten-year-old, especially as he began to slink off towards the mess hall. Snow crunched under his boots, and he could feel some of the flurries settling into his hair, catching on the carefully coiffed spikes.

He petulantly kicked at one of the larger piles of snow in front of him, sending up a white cloud of snow into his path. He paused to let the wind sweep it away, also carrying with it the happy chatter and laughter of the wintry revelers around him. That funny feeling from before swept over him, and he couldn’t help but turn around for one brief look back.

Grey hadn’t moved from her perch, arms once again tucked neatly behind her back as if standing formally and waiting for inspection. The image of perfect Jedi contemplation was ruined by the fact that she had tipped her head up to the sky, the hints of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as a large flake drifted down and landed delicately on the tip of her nose.

He blinked, feeling something in his chest tighten a fraction, just enough to distract him from his goal of caffeine. Without much of a thought, he pulled his hands from his pocket, absently reaching out. Several small flurries landed on his upturned palm, melting almost immediately on contact with his glove. A few more landed and melted away as he stared, at his own palm and at the lone figure beyond, before he began shuffling again, back in the direction he’d come.

She was startled out of her quiet contemplation, giving him a puzzled look as he took up his position next to her again.

“I thought you were going inside.”

“Changed my mind,” he said with a shrug.

She pressed her lips together to suppress a smile, and he unconsciously mimicked the action. To distract from that he again reached his hand out to the falling flurries. A large snowflake began to land on it, but stopped a few millimeters above his palm. Despite the wind and the prevailing laws of gravity, it continued to hover there. It took him a few dumbfounded moments of wonder before he looked up to see a wide, almost delighted smile on his companion’s face.

He briefly thought about teasing her about what was clearly not an appropriate use of the Force, but found he had a better idea. “Exactly how many of those can you hold at once?”

Her smile somehow seemed to grow wider. “Why don’t we find out?”

By the time Vette and their sculptors looked up from their own icy masterpieces, the two figures at the edge of the overlook were nearly obscured in a small sphere of suspended snowflakes. Vette looked at the almost life-sized snowglobe, and then back at the Snow Twi’lek she’d been painstakingly constructing over the past hour.

“Show off,” she muttered.

[constantincn]

TOP CUVINTE CHEIE https://reducer.ro/cuvinte-cheie    Cuvântul cel mai popular este Facebook, cu o medie de 213 milioane de căutări pe lună în 2022. Este urmat îndeaproape de YouTube, Amazon,Weathernet Walmart.   Cele mai populare 100 de cuvinte cheie de la Google de inspirat în 2023  

[jedie]

       seemingly  kissed  by  the  force  this  morning  ,  the  sun  is  a  spiritual  SUCCOR  to  an  otherwise  bleak  landscape.  coruscant  maybe  had  something  to  do  with  it  ,  but  who’s  to  say  the  force  didn’t  open  the hearts  of  the  engineers  at  weathernet  after  sensing anakin’s  dread following  another  week  of  rains  ?  obi-wan  would  call  it  BALANCE  to placate  anakin  when  his  will  couldn’t  circumvent  that  of  the  force.  he  wonders  if  he’ll make  that  distinction  when  the  wandering  knight  wanders  in  with  his  padawan  exchanging  tales  of  their  early  follies. 

     his  pace  quickens  before  he  gets  spotted  in  the  midst  of  his  conspiracy.  the  earthen  aroma  of  the  garden  drying  in  the  midday  sun  swells  his  chest  &  tempts  him  to  bring  up  how  much  lighter  the  force  feels  on  days  like  today  when  the  emerald  terrain  is  imbued  with  the  perseverance  of  the  force  in  a  time  of  prolonged  darkness.  but  he  wagers  a  guess  she  didn’t  come  to  discuss  the  poetic  nature  of  the  force.  not  with  him  ,  anyway.

         ❝  SIRI  !  are  you  here  to  see  obi-wan  ?  ❞

one-liner / @tachiisms

[izzyovercoffee]

Does Coruscant even have water? Is there like a secret pond buried deep in the layers of the planet that just quenches the thirst of the trillion people who live there? Do they suck water from the clouds? (There are clouds on Coruscant, right?) Would it have to be purified because there's so much jank from exhaust and stuff?? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS NOW

I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS TOO mostly because I just threw Coruscant out there but like … now ……

Now that I’m thinking about it, I think it’s very likely a mixture of different things: a majority, most likely, by import, and the rest by local synthesis and/or resources specifically set aside to be harvested for use for Coruscant (like, say, some comets that are comprised mostly of frozen water … or a possible case of harvesting both hydrogen and oxygen separately to synthesize water planet-side). 

Since it’s an ecunemopolis, very little if any of the original Coruscant pre-colonization exists — that we’ve seen and can conclude from canon materials that portray and describe Coruscant (but also Legends, too, went into this, at least pre-Yuuzhan Vong). 

We know that Coruscant Water exists, at least in Legends, so they did have a utility company that managed the entire infrastructure (and likely the import and distribution) planet-wide.

The thing wrt Coruscant’s climate (and atmosphere) is that it’s near 100% maintained/managed by an artificial system that controls every aspect of the climate. The (unintentional?) side effect is frequent lightning storms, possibly as a build up of static due to the climate controls, but it’s never actually explained why that is. IF dry thunderstorms are as frequent as implied (by Legends/canon) then precipitation does occur, but often the rain evaporates long before it actually hits the ground. 

Which probably means that at least some portion of the imported water is distributed to CWN (Coruscant WeatherNet) to artificially maintain the weather network. This is Legends, though … but there was an implication that Coruscant had very stringent rules wrt the “allowable” weather patterns — and that if there was any precipitation, would only be allowed to occur after sundown on any given area of the planet, and any fog conditions must dissipate before 0800 of that area (I’m assuming local time as opposed to standard, considering that … sundown can only occur on some parts of the planet, not all, but Legends is apparently vague about that for some reason). 

Circling back to the original issue wrt water though, if Coruscant did want to have water to brag about, all of their imported water would have to go through a standardized purification and treatment process, and then anything else would have to be introduced to the water after worth bragging about. But then again I’m assuming they get their water from multiple sources (and in order to provide that much water for that many people, daily, I strongly doubt they’d only stick to one source of import) and/or synthesize ultrapure water on-site. 

….. this isn’t even getting into how apparently dangerous (and explosive !!!) it is to create water, but now I’m wondering if part of Coruscant’s power infrastructure works with water to at least harvest some energy in the processes to manufacture water.

This is all super theoretical with the assumption that star wars would have the tech to do any of this though, but they “apparently” have technology so advanced they can control the weather of a fully-realized ecumenopolis housing 2-3 trillion people so I’m just gonna assume they do lmao

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Return to Me - First Snow

An Advent Calendar of Fics!

Here’s a little add on to Return to Me! If you were tagged in the original series, I’m tagging you in this as well. If you don’t want to ever be tagged in any (possible) continuations, please let me know! I hope you like it! I had so much fun with this!

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Synopsis: Poe gets away from work to be with his family for the holidays. Word Count: 1,294

Tags: @cinema212, @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13, @davidbowiesfacepaint

“I love being home,” Poe said, kissing your head. His hands were wrapped around your waist, and you covered his with your own. “I don’t know why I ever leave you.” You hummed in response and cuddled against his chest. 

“I love waking up with you,” you said. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been so long.”

“I’ve missed you, too, but I am here now.” You nodded and looked out your window. To give your Coruscant home a more Naboo feeling, you had layers of silky curtains hanging from your windows, that usually blew through out the room. However, they were still now as it was approaching winter, and your windows were latched. 

“You don’t have to go home before New Year Fete Week, do you?”

“No.”

“Good. I know two someones who will be glad to hear it.” Poe smiled and rolled you over so you were no longer laying on his chest, but facing him. 

“Can I wake them up yet?” You laughed and shook your head.

“No. I wasn’t sure if you were coming home last night, so I didn’t tell Carrie. She’ll be so excited to see you, it’s better to let her sleep for now. She won’t get any once she knows you’re here.”

“What about Hanna?”

“Hanna is a baby,” you said with a giggle. “We need to appreciate the moments when she is asleep.” Poe frowned, and you kissed his sad face. “It’s okay, I want to get some time with you myself,” you said, pulling him closer. He started smiling, and kissed you, his beard softly scratching your skin. He continued to kiss you as he pulled you closer, and loosened the nightgown you were wearing. Your hand traveled down and Poe laughed with delight when you touched him.

“Oh god I missed you,” he said.

“Prove it.”

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” An hour and a half later, you and Poe were standing in the kitchen, Hanna in your arms, making breakfast. Carrie’s feet padded down the hall, hearing her dad’s voice as he sang carols to you, making you and Hanna both laugh. 

“Ah! There’s my girl!” he said, picking Carrie up in his arms. He spun her around and showered her with kisses. “Have you been getting my holograms?”

“Yes! Mommy and I watch them all together.” Poe looked at you somewhat nervously, thinking of some of the inappropriate holograms he sent you. 

“Not all of them, darling.”

“Yes, all of them,” Carrie said, crossing her arms. She was five now, and developing some of the sass her mother carried with her. You smiled at her and nodded. 

“Yes, all of them,” you repeated, looking up at your husband. He laughed and kissed Carrie’s forehead once more before setting her back down.

“Alright, go sit next to your mom, and we’ll get breakfast ready.”

After Poe made your family a delicious breakfast, Carrie went about finding all of the things that she had gotten or done since Poe had been gone, and dragged them all into your living room. Poe hadn’t seen Hanna since he went back after his paternity leave, and was still getting familiar with his youngest, as he played with her on the couch. 

“I love Daddy,” Carrie said, running up to you. You laughed and gave her a little squeeze, nodding your head. 

“Me too. I’m so glad he’s here.”

“Me too,” Carrie said with a smile. Poe jumped off the couch and chased her around the living room while she giggled in delight. When he caught her he blew raspberries on her stomach, and she erupted into more giggles. 

Hanna started to get fussy, so you took the baby out of the room, and got her changed. When you came back in, Poe was sitting with Carrie in front of the mantle place, looking up at all the decorations.

“Daddy, do you think it will snow this holiday?” she asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. Poe glanced up at you, his smile faltering a little as he tried to come up with a gentle answer that wouldn’t break the heart of a five year old. Coruscant was a climate controlled planet, controlled by the WeatherNet, and it hadn’t snowed here in years.

“I’m not sure, honey. I hope it does,” he said softly.

“Me too,” she said with a frown. She looked back at you and you smiled softly. 

“Come on, why don’t you pick all this stuff up.” She sighed and stood up.

“Okay Mom.” She hugged Poe tightly before picking up her toys and school projects. You walked into the living room and Poe took Hanna into his arms. 

“I think they like you more than me.” He shook his head up at you and frowned.

“No, they’re just surprised to see me. You’re here with them every day. I don’t know how you can do it alone.”

“Because I know you’ll be here if I need you,” you said, ruffling his hair. “Although, Carrie might not like you as much if you can’t get it to snow this holiday.”

“I’m not sure what I can do. You think I can convince the WeatherNet to let it snow for the first time on Coruscant?” You laughed and shrugged. 

“If anyone can do it, babe, it’s you.” Poe smiled up at you, a little glint in his eyes, meaning that he intended to do just that, even if it was impossible.

Another week later, and you were being woken up by Carrie. Of course, today was the first day of the New Year Fete Week here in Coruscant. She was shaking you both awake, eager to open her presents in the living room, you assumed. 

You groaned and muttered out a few ‘okay’s as she forced you awake. You kicked Poe’s foot, telling him there was no ignoring this, and started to get used to the dark room. 

“Okay, baby, I’m up,” you said, looking at your daughter. 

“Mommy! You have to come see!”

“What do I have to come see?” you asked, rubbing sleep from your eyes. You looked over at Poe who looked just as exhausted as you were, and he shrugged.

“The snow!”

“The what?”

“The snow!” she said again, jumping off the bed, and running back into the living room. 

“Carrie, wait!” You got out of bed and looked over at Poe. “It doesn’t snow in Coruscant,” you said. Poe nodded and followed you into the living room, picking Hanna up out of her crib beforehand. 

Carrie was pressed up a window, and surprisingly it was cold in your house, which it rarely ever was. As you approached the windows, you saw the frost coating the windows, and looking closer, you saw two feet of snow sitting on your veranda. 

“Oh my god,” you said in disbelief. “Can you believe this?” you asked, looking back at Poe. He was smiling at you and suddenly you realized that this was all his doing. You shook your head and smiled back. 

“Daddy, it snowed! And you said it wouldn’t!”

“I know, I was wrong,” Poe said, looking down at her. She laughed and after staring at the snow for a few moments longer, went over to where her presents sat. You walked up to your husband, and kissed his lips. 

“You are amazing. I don’t even wanna know how you did that.”

“I pulled a few thousand favors with the General.”

“Well, you made someone very, very happy.” 

“Are you very, very happy?” he asked. You smiled and pulled him closer, being careful not to squash Hanna in his arms, and kissed him again.

“Very.”

“Mom! Dad! Come on!”

“Happy New Year Fete, darling.” He grinned and kissed you again.

“Happy New Year Fete.”

[sw5w]

Royal Cruiser Above the Clouds

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:02:28

[teagrl]

Coruscant Undercity Worldbuilding

All of them from Jedi Twilight and for my own reference.

Since WeatherNet guaranteed that it never rained until dusk or later, the rich golden sunlight was simply expected, in the same way that one expected air to fill one’s lungs with every breath.

But hundreds of stories below the first inhabited floors of the great towers, ziggurats, and minarets, in some places actually on or under the city-planet’s surface, it was another story. Here hundreds of thousands of humans and other species lived and died, sometimes without ever catching as much as a glimpse of the fabled sky. Here the light that filtered through the omnipresent gray inversion layer was wan and pallid. The rain that reached the surface was nearly always acidic, enough so at times to etch tiny channels and grooves into ferrocarbon foundations. It was hard to believe that anything at all could survive in these dismal trenches. Yet even here life, both intelligent and otherwise, had adjusted long ago to the perpetual twilight and strictured environment.

At the very bottom of the chasms, in the variegated pulsing of phosphor lights and signs, stone mites, conduit worms, and other scavengers flourished on technological detritus. Duracrete slugs blindly masticated their way through rubble. Hawk-bats built nests near power converters to keep their eggs warm. Armored rats and spider-roaches scuttled and hunted through piles of trash two stories high. And millions of other species of opportunistic and parasitic organisms, from single-celled animalcules all the way up to those self-aware enough to wish they weren’t, doggedly pursued their common quest for survival, little different from the struggles on a thousand different jungle worlds. Down here was where the jetsam of the galaxy, a motley collection of sentients dismissed by those above simply as “the underdwellers,” eked out lives of brutality and despair. It was merely a different kind of jungle, after all.   

Even walked hurriedly through the colorful crowds that thronged the Zi-Zhinn Marketplace. This was a euphemistic name for an ongoing rowdy street fair on the 17th Level of an area in Sector 4805, also known as the Zi-Kree Sector, along the equatorial strip. That was the name given to the upper levels, anyway; down here, below the layer of smoke and fog, it was simply called the Crimson Corridor. While much of Coruscant’s lower levels comprised less-than-desirable real estate, some areas were loci of particular and concentrated trouble. The Southern Underground, the Factory District, The Works, the Blackpit Slums—these and other colorful names did little justice to the harsh realities of life under the perpetual smog layer that hid them from the rarefied upper levels. Yet ironically, it was only in ghettos like these, amid despair and desperation, that a measure of anonymity and security could be found.

The spice den opened, by way of a half-concealed entrance, into a dimly lit, cavernous chamber that had long ago been a casino. It was huge, with a high, vaulted ceiling that rose easily three stories. Even made his way to a turbolift tube, pushing his way past furniture and gambling tables so ancient that some of them crumbled to dust when he brushed by. How many abandoned, desolated places like this were there in the sublevels? Millions, no doubt, hidden and silent at the bases of the glittering, fresh towers, like rot growing silently in a tooth. The capital of the galaxy had grown from a vast necropolis, as flowers sprout from funerary dirt …

The smog wasn’t too bad today, but everything was still cloaked in a pervasive gloom from the shadows of the buildings, thick as the boles of trees in a Kashyyyk forest. There was little air traffic under fifty stories in this sector, so the view was relatively unimpeded. On the street, ground skimmers hummed along less than a meter above the pavement.

But most of the slum’s inhabitants walked, or slithered, or crawled, or otherwise moved along under their own power. The streets were crowded with vendors, solicitors, vagrants, and footpads … it was like looking through some kind of magical portal onto a marginalized planet of the Outer Rim. Hard to believe that he was still on Coruscant, crown jewel of the Core Worlds.

In a part of Coruscant where just glimpsing the sun could be an occasion to tell one’s grandchildren about, it seemed odd that true darkness never really came at all. But such was the case; the pulse of the city-planet’s downlevel slums acknowledged neither day nor night. With few exceptions, those beneath, on, or near the surface lived in a perpetual gloaming of electroluminescence. The chromatic signatures of neon, argon, and other ionized gases lit the Blackpit Slums’ streets at all hours, and very few beings acknowledged the schedules of the world above. Many businesses could be found open at any time of the twenty-four hour cycle, and most species followed their own circadian rhythms, however esoteric they might be.

It was disturbing, yet fascinating, to watch the decay and decrepitude slowly grow as he piloted the skimmer down at a steep angle. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but never before had it seemed so condensed. Around the 115th level, the air became hazy, stinging his eyes, and the smell grew noxious, to such a degree that he considered putting the canopy up. He knew this was the effect of hydrocarbons and ozone, caused by a temperature inversion layer, and that it was produced by underdwellers burning oil, wood, animal dung, and the like, to keep warm and provide power. In the sunlit world above, automated air scrubbers patrolled the upper atmosphere, keeping it reasonably clean and fresh. But no such benefits were available downlevel.

Although the buildings of the Yaam Sector were, for the most part, only cloudcutters—most of them no more than seven or eight hundred meters high, which paled next to the impressive two-thousand-plus-meter skytowers of the equatorial belt—they were set extremely close together. The Yaam Sector was one of the oldest on Coruscant; not as old as the Petrax Quarter, but old enough. A great many buildings had been built before the majority of the oceans disappeared, and the streets were narrower and winding, possibly because large ground transport vehicles hadn’t been used as extensively back then.

[unexpected-tigers]

this post about the weather on Dromund Kaas sent me down a Wookieepedia rabbit hole, because I couldn’t remember how weather worked on Coruscant, and

I totally forgot that Coruscant canonically has the weather from Camelot, where “the rain may never fall till after sundown/by eight the morning fog must disappear.” One, that’s hilarious, Two, I started writing up some meta about the climate control system... 

WeatherNet is Coruscant’s climate control system - a perennial bugbear on the Senate floor, and one of the major issues that prompted the formation of the Rift Alliance.  Frankly, it’s expensive as hell to maintain, and nobody is entirely sure how much of the funding is coming from Republic coffers at present.  Also, it is optimized for the comfort and convenience of those who live at the uppermost levels of the city. Those who live closer to the surface don’t receive enough water to live comfortably, or to make anything grow.

Chancellor Saresh is extremely vocal in her support of the WeatherNet program.  The technology developed in the Core, she maintains, benefits planetary environments throughout the Republic; the reconstruction efforts on Telos and Taris were made possible in part by innovations from Coruscant WeatherNet.  Unfortunately, Saresh’s approval is not always politically desirable. Her praise has somewhat hampered WeatherNet’s search for non-government sources of funding.  

Czerka Corporation would love nothing more than to purchase and privatize WeatherNet.  Their representatives are perpetually hovering at the edges of the organization, like circling vultures. Their moves toward a potential merger have thus far been blocked in the Senate, on the grounds that giving a private company control of a Core World’s weather is a colossally bad idea. However, increasing pressure on the Senate to cut WeatherNet’s public funding is inching Czerka ever closer to their goal.

[stonefreeak]

Okay, honestly, I'm dying here at SC!Obi-Wan. I didn't know I needed this but I TOTALLY do. I've been cackling for a solid half hour and it's amazing I love this story and I love you. Questions, though - How's Garen's investigation going? How are his friends playing into this new situation? Do they drag him out of the office because he needs to Take A Break Or So Help Us, Force, We WILL Get Yoda You Idiot.

Thank you so much! So how is that investigation going?

Garen sighs and scrubs a hand across his face. The WeatherNet just had to have today scheduled for rain, didn’t it? As if today wasn’t bad enough without pouring rain.

He glances over toward where Knight En Castu, a Nautolan Jedi, crouches by the body. 

“Is it Darb?” he asks, begging the Force that it’s not. Because if it is…

“Sorry, Muln, it is. The appearance matches, as does the blood group. We’ll have to do a DNA scan to make absolutely sure, but… It seems like our last lead is another dead end… literally.” Castu stands back up and wipes her purple hand off on her coat.

“Sith spit,” he snarls. “I’ll comm the Security Forces and have them escort the body to the Temple.”

“Seems wise. We’ll have to report our findings—or rather, lack thereof—to the Council.”

~~~~

“Both assassins, the first identified as bounty hunter Elon Darb and the second as assassin Mida Murr, have been found dead. We’ve gone through their recent work history, delved into the comm information and any and all tech we’ve been able to find, however…” Castu trails off.

“Whoever hired them has cleaned their tracks up well. All their computers were wiped clean, their comms utterly destroyed and the comm numbers have somehow been wiped and given to someone else—despite the mandatory three month waiting period,” Garen finishes, making sure not to sound as dejected as he feels.

Someone has tried to have one of his best friends killed and it was his job to find them… but he failed. It stings, and even though he knows Obi-Wan would never blame him… Well. Perhaps it would’ve been better if Skywalker had gotten the job after all?

Force knows the man is like a derma dog after a bone when it comes to things like that.

“Troubling, is this.” Master Yoda’s ears droop.

“An unfortunate turn of events. Knight Muln, Knight Castu, thank you for your hard work. The investigation will remain open, in case any new leads pop up. In the meantime, you will return to your regular duties.”

“Yes, Master,” the say in chorus.

At least Garen won’t be the one to tell Skywalker the news. He rubs a hand over tired eyes and sighs.

Who has the kind of power and connections on Coruscant to pull something like this off?

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

COFFEE & A FORECAST: WREG-TV WEATHER OVERTIME for SUN AM 5.13.18

Miss the forecast on #WREG @3onyourside Daybreak? Check    our video #weatherblog #WeatherOvertime for SUN AM.

Mother’s Day 2018 dawns sunny and dry, more clouds expected for later today. Showers and thunderstorms back in the Mid-South forecast next week. All the details coming up on today’s edition of WREG News Channel 3 exclusive video weatherblog Weather Overtime with AMS Meteorologist Austen Onek- WREG,

#WREG #WeatherExpert…

[fangirlingincamouflage]

Ghosts of Coruscant Chapter 1

Title: Ghosts of Coruscant Author: Rosie Dayze Word Count: 2096 Pairing: OC/OC Rating: Mature Themes: Drinking, sex, self doubt. Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of the characters associated with the brand. I make no money from this fanfiction. Authors Note: This is the first chapter of a WIP. It is subject to change as I edit. While I’ve got an outline...my characters don’t always follow it.

Nela Vox woke up in that hazy state between no longer drunk, yet not quite sober. It was a travesty. She ran a lethargic hand over her face and pushed through the murky haze of near sobriety. By the smokey flicker of neon light spreading over the sheets and the fact that the hover lane that passed by her window was still empty, she guessed that morning was hours off. Not that morning mattered. On Coruscant morning was a figment of the artificial imagination of the WeatherNet. Nela had nowhere to be no matter what time of day it was. One of the few blessings that came along with being absolutely useless.

With a groan, she collapsed back into a comfortable cocoon of sheets and body heat. Her short, disheveled mop of azure hair slithered over her cheeks and into her eyes. It was too much work to push it away. Blindly, Nela groped for a bottle of algarine wine. It didn't matter that the wine, traditionally served chilled, was just shy of tepid. It didn't matter that last night's lipstick was clumped around the neck. She brought it to her naturally blue lips and took a big enough drink that it hurt to swallow around it.

“Any of that left for me?” a voice, sleep rough and husky, crooned. A thin, pale arm snaked across her bare stomach playfully. Lips pressed against her shoulder with a casual intimacy that Nela wasn't sure had been earned.

“Nope,” she said flatly, downing the last few drops. “You'll have to get your own.”

He chuckled, mistaking her bland attitude for teasing. With a persistent push he eased her back to the bed. She allowed it, but only because her head was starting to swim pleasantly again. As her eyes—red by genetics rather than inebriation—adjusted to the light and alcohol she realized that he'd been a lot cuter the night before.

“Guess I'll have to settle for something else.” His dark hair, mussed by sleep, fell across a cloud white brow as he leaned over her and pressed his lips to hers. She wasn't sure if it was drink or talent that made the kiss a good one. His hand roamed over her sheet covered skin. “Nela,” he purred her name.

Nela couldn't remember his name or why she'd picked him out of half a dozen others she could have taken home. She remembered the vice den of a cantina that she had picked him up from and dim recollections of bith made music, but his name, and any other specifies were lost in a blur of sex and liquor. She didn't dwell on it. There were a lot of lost nights for Nela.

“Do you have time?” he asked.

She did. Where else did she have to be? This man, with his cloud white skin and deep black hair, was the only thing that needed her.

“Yeah,” she said, taking his hand and planting it against her breast. “I have time.”

His mouth traveled down the long blue line of her neck, leaving a trail of warm tingles in his wake. The undulating movement of her body had the sheet that divided them slipping down and puddling somewhere near their feet. His leg slipped between hers and she opened in invitation. He might not be as pretty as he had been the night before, but he was good with his mouth and she had nothing better to do.

In the back of her mind she knew she shouldn't be there, her arms wrapped around a warm body, her naked back against the sheets. Training had taught her that these sort of entanglements were nothing but distractions. It didn't matter. In the past few months Nela had decided very little mattered. If she could seek comfort in a bottle and a body, then she would.

He was drinking the taste of wine from her lips when she heard a nearly foreign chirping. It wasn't the sound that she didn't recognize. Everyone knew what a comlink demanding to be heard sounded like. What took her longer to process was that it was her comlink.

“Hold on,” she said, pushing at the shoulder of the nameless male. “That's for me.”

“Do you need to get that?” he tried to distract her with his mouth. It nearly worked. The chirping was persistent. She pushed on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

She pulled herself out of the bed, disentangling herself from the sheets as well as him. Her knees were weak as she riffled through clothes. Her head was spinning, as much from confusion as anything else. No one ever contacted her. Not for a long time. Nela had no friends. She belonged nowhere. Who wanted her attention now? Whatever it was, she was betting it wasn't for good reasons.

She moved a fallen pillow, found the source of the chirping. The comlink was small, no longer than her thumb, and twice as wide. A blue light emanated from one side. It continued to chirp.

“Stay there.” She motioned towards the man in the bed, whose name was still a blur, and pulled a tunic over her shoulders, settled it into place. When she was sure she looked semi-decent she hit the button that would connect the call. A small hologram done in shades of neon blue filled a palm sized space in front of her. The image was of a seated male, human, bald, and dark skinned. He wore robes in the Jedi style, layered in shades of cream and brown. A lightsaber was clipped to one hip.

She was right, this call couldn't possibly be for anything good.

“Nela Vox.” He lifted his chin. The corns of his lips dipped downwards. “You are not currently within the temple.”

The temple? Why would she be there? Her status had been made perfectly clear. She had no place there.

“No, Master Windu.”

The male in the bed sat up. What was his name? Deel? Dar? Something. She ignored him. Her attention was fixed on the holographic male in front of her.

“Why is that?” Windu demanded.

Nela hesitated. Words failed. The liquor was making it hard to put thoughts together. Words and emotions seemed to tumble over one another. How was she supposed to explain something she was sure he already knew? She wiped her palm down her face. It was too hot. She needed a glass of water. Or a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Sleep sounded good.

“Vox?” Windu demanded when she didn't answer.

She didn't have an answer, but she had a lot of questions. “Is there a reason you have contacted me?”

His expression darkened. “Where are you?”

She looked out the window. A long line of hover-traffic was starting to build up outside. “Does it matter?”

“I don't know if it escaped your attention, Nela, but we are at war.”

Her shoulders squared. In an instant the struggle to find the right words vanished. The fog of alcohol lifted. Her eyes snapped to a razor sharp focused fueled by anger. “Correction. There is a war going on. We aren't part of that.”

“The Jedi are-”

“Peacekeepers,” she interrupted. She'd said the word so many times in the past few months that it had lost most of its meaning. She said it anyway. Clung to it. Her already weak knees shook with a sudden wave of passion. “We are diplomats, healers, and peacekeepers. The Jedi have no place in war, General.” She spat the title like a curse.

The tiny blue hologram shifted and stuttered as if the anger that Jedi Master Windu would not allow himself to show was making itself known anyway. She'd always had a grudging respect for Master Windu's control.

“Your presence is requested at council.” His tone said it wasn't a request at all.

“What for?”

“And here I thought we weren't answering one another's questions.” He straightened up, his expression smug. “Your talents are required.”

She froze. The warmth of liquor and sex evaporated, leaving a cold weight in her belly. She shook her head, the word 'no' already forming on her lips. She had no desire to use her gift to help the Jedi. Not now. Not ever again.

“Report at your earliest convenience.”

The hologram had barely flickered off before she heard the sheets slither over the floor. It was followed by the dull thud of feet.

“You're a jedi?” The awe in his tone was painful to hear.  

“No,” she said flatly. “I am not.”

“Then why was Mace Windu-”

“You need to go.” Nela scooped a pile of clothing from the group and tossed it at him. His were somewhere in there, she was almost sure. “I have to get ready.”

A normal person would have got the point and stopped asking questions. Apparently, Dwar (Daer?) was not a normal person. His mouth kept moving. Questions kept spilling out. “What talent are they talking about? Why don't you live at the temple? I thought Chiss couldn't be Jedi.”

Nela snarled and yanked open a small, wall mounted closet. “Yeah, you were pretty last night. This morning? Not so much.”

He scoffed, but at least he was quiet as he pulled on his clothes. She prowled through her closet.

“I'm still pretty,” he said. “You are just in a bad mood.”

There, in the very back of her closet, were her robes. They were rumpled and dirty. She wondered if they still fit. Her recent lifestyle had added pounds where none had been before.

“Chiss can be Jedi.”

“What?”

“It doesn't happen often. But it does happen.” She pulled on her long sleeved tunic. Not too long ago it had been a soft cream shade. Now it was a sad, dingy gray. “For reasons I cannot explain most force sensitive Chiss are women.”

“Didn't know the force cared.”

She shrugs. “Usually it doesn't. I dunno. Just the way things worked out for us. Also, we aren't particularly good Jedi.”

He cocked his head to the side. His lips tilted into a grin. “You were good last night.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. Her thick leather belt didn't seem to want to close. With a sigh she loosened it and tried the fastenings again. “Yeah, yeah. But that's not what I mean. I mean our one and only talent has always been limited.”

“The talent the master jedi spoke of.”

“Smarter than you look.” She tugged her sleeveless, deep brown robe over the tunic. The fabric was dark enough to hide the worst stains. “Now, are you smart enough to get out?”

He chuckled and pulled on a pair of boots. “I'm getting there. I'm just intrigued. I didn't know a Jedi could have a one night stand.”

“Jedi can't have attachments.” She knew the words were cutting the truth hair thin. “We are not attached.”

He held his hands up in mute surrender, though a smile still danced on his lips. “I guess that answers the question of whether or not I'll see you again.”

She plunged her hand into the closet again, rifling through its contents. She found other clothes in various states of cleanliness. A broken hydrospanner, a few more bottles of liquor, some full, some empty, and some inbetween. But there, at the very back, her fingers touched metal. Her hand hesitated just a moment before it closed around the etched casing. Slowly, she withdrew her hand.

As far as lightsabres went, her's was simple. Nela had never needed things to be flamboyant. A simple cylinder, nearly as long as the space between her elbow and wrist. There were three deep grooves near the haft, and another two near the emitter.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You weren't lying.”

She clipped the weapon to her belt. It felt strange to wear it. Like it belonged to someone else. Maybe it did. She wasn't who she had been.

“Do people lie to you often?”

“To get me into bed? Yes.”

She shrugged and turned. He stood in the glimmering light of neon signs and automotive lights. His pale skin nearly glimmered, dark hair like a shadow. He wore only his boots and pants and she let herself enjoy a last look before she hit the button that opened the the front door.

“Well, believe me when I say that I don't even remember your name.”