#it’s been piling higher than Mount Everest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

comehomeducklings · 3 years

Text

Present [Part 4] (Obsession)

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1943 ~ 6th year

“What would be the purpose of a wizard or witch to prepare a Polyjuice potion?” Slughorn asks. “Yes, Mr. Riddle?”

Tom drops his hand from the air, “The potion grants the drinker to take the form of another.”

“Yes! And what would happen if said drinker tried to transform into an animal?”

I know this one so I lift my hand.

“Go ahead.”

I clear my throat, “When the human drinker tries to transform into an animal they would not take its complete form. Only sections of said animal.”

Slughorn nods his head, “Can they reverse after a bit of time like normally?”

“No,” I answered. “It takes an extremely long time to wear off, and you might even have to go to the hospital wing.”

He grins and continues to write on the chalkboard. Even though he can enchant the writer's tool to note down itself, I’m guessing he prefers the old-fashioned way.

Tom and I are even on points. When he answers correctly, I also do right after him. I can see him noting down both our points on the corner of his parchment. The black tally marks standing out. Our points are on my paper as well, just in case he decides to cheat. No chances are being taken today, or tomorrow.

“How long does the potion wear off if made correctly?”

Riddle and I both shoot our hands up. His demeanor is calm and collected while I'm sitting on my feet to have my arm raised higher than his. It’s not very fair that his arms are the length of mine to the third power.

“Mr. Nott, what do you know?”

“A single dose could last from 10 minutes to 12 hours.”

Another question wasted by not getting called on. I don’t mind that much since it doesn't keep me behind. Riddle seems to care a little bit too much. His competitive side is showing and I guess his pal is ruining the race.

Professor stole our textbooks for this pop quiz. The rapid-fire questions should “already be memorized and known,” down to the molecular detail. My knowledge only goes so far.

I trust myself, to a point. There’s definitely going to be a question I get wrong and I’m already dreading it. Every answer that falls out of my mouth is examined and thought over ten times before the action of answering arises.

“For something a little different, Mr. Riddle come to the front of the classroom and write four ingredients that are needed for the potion.”

He stands up and pushes his chair in. His eyes as cold as The Black Lake. While he makes his way toward the board I cross my fingers, hoping he forgets one. I know that’s not the kindest, but nothing with him is necessarily “kind.”

There he goes, writing all four ingredients with ease. His handwriting is beautiful. How does he honestly do that? Does he practice every single day to get it that precise?

Maybe I should practice to improve as well. Honestly embarrassing how bad my handwriting seems next to his. We compared essays once, never again. That was the most embarrassing moment of my life. He just laughed at me and kept pointing out how weird my f’s looked.

I swear my letters weren’t that bad. It’s just that he overachieves everything. Now I rewrite every “f” letter that appears on my homework. Thank you for the new insecurity, Riddle.

“Very good! Very good, your turn,” he points towards me. “Three more ingredients this time.”

While I stand in front of the board, I check out what he has already put down. Lacewig flies, leeches, okay not bad. Knotgrass and the hair of the person the drinker will transform into.

He numbered them so I continued on from that.

5) Boomslang skin

6) Fluxweed

Last one, let's see. We already put Lacewig flies, Knotgrass, hair, the skin, and Fluxweed. I hesitate for a little bit, my brain working at high speed. Anxiety levels are higher than Mount Everest.

7) Powdered Bicorn Horn

There we go, I smile to myself proudly. When I turn back around my eyes meet his. He smirks and nods while he writes down a point for both of us. I’m not sure that it counts for four points, just one.

The questions go on for quite a bit. Our tally marks are piling higher and higher. Each of our count's neck and neck for the top spot.

“What is the brewing time?”

“About a month.”

“How does the potion look before the addition of the final ingredient?”

“Thick like the mud after it pours.”

“It also is bubbling.”

“How does it look after adding the final ingredient?”

“Depends on who the witch or wizard made the potion to look like.”

“Varies in taste and color.”

He seems to be done with questions so Tom and I start counting the marks. On my paper, I seem to be .5 points ahead of him. I quickly look his way to see him come to the same conclusion. He takes a deep breath and casts his eyes to the side. Tom then tilts his quill my way signaling that I did indeed win.

I’m about to squeal quite highly but then I recollect I’m in a classroom. Full of people who are terrified to be anywhere in this castle. That would be quite inappropriate of me so I keep my excitement to myself.

Professor Slughorn wipes the whole board away. Clearing all the information we were learning and reviewing about.

“When I pair you up, each of you will grab the right ingredients for this potion and lay it near the front of your desk,” he says. “It should be laid in the order you would normally use when making the concoction.”

“First up, Miss Horn and Miss Yellowbo.”

The classroom starts to move with life as students pair with one another. Some cheerful noises and annoyed ones from who they ended up with. Most of us here know each other. I don’t think I would mind having anyone in this room as my partner.

“Mr. Riddle and-”

Of course, it’s me. Starting to think the pairings’ on purpose. His face shines too brightly for it not to be well planned out. I make my way to the shelves to start out picking the ingredients.

There’s always a moment where my mind decides to give up on me. Most of the elements are obtained. A few are missing.

I’m going over the variety of bottles containing different substances when I feel a looming pressure on my back. An arm slightly grazes past my ear and picks up Fluxweed.

“How do you manage to forget the very ingredient you wrote down on the board?” Toms whispers right by my ear.

I shift my eyesight to the side to see him already looking at me, “Sorry, I blanked out a little.”

He starts seizing half of the ingredients into his hold. I don’t really mind carrying a couple, but I’m just left with one bottle after he takes most of my possessions.

“Taking all the credit now I see,” I tilt my head as I raise my chin to meet his tall build.

“You were about to spill everything. I’m saving you from embarrassment,” he responds cockily.

I started to argue but he already made his way back to the desk, “Everything was perfectly stable in my arms.”

He continues to ignore me and sets down everything. Including the one bottled ingredient in my hand that he snatched just a few moments ago.

“Nothing is ever perfectly stable with you.”

I’m about to whisper a word no children should hear before Slughorn makes his way to our table. Saving Riddle from my rising annoyance.

“Wonderful! You too got all of them perfectly,” he starts. “I would expect no less from my star students.”

All I do is smile brightly in respect. Trying not to drive any more attention to the outburst of pride he has for us.

“Thank you, professor,” Tom says. He starts picking the ingredients off of the table, still barely letting me take any.

Riddle just walks off while our proffesor continues around the room. When he comes back I just about finish wiping the desk of any accidental spills.

“I won our little game this time,” I nudged his shoulder with my own.

Tom slightly rolls his eyes with a small smile, “I see that you have. Just this one though.”

“And many more to come,” I exclaim.

Our attention seeks back to our teacher, “You’ll all be writing an essay about an imaginary way this potion could go wrong. I expect it to be turned in before class tomorrow.”

I hurry to get my textbook off of my area and head towards the back of the classroom near the doorway.

“Everyone split into two groups. This half will go with Riddle while the other is with me.”

I turn my head once more to look at Tom, he’s reassuring one of the students that they are going to be okay.

I only look for a couple of seconds before leading my half of the group out first. A few stops along the way to make sure perfects are keeping order. Most of my group of students have been dropped off. A couple still lures behind me, I picked them up as I worked my way through the castle halls.

They were also dropped off and now I scatter along the hallway to make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. Like every other period, the routine stays the same mostly.

My robes have a few wet spots on them still from the tears of younger students attending this school. I fully believe it won’t be too long until the headmaster and the ministry deal with whoever is making our lives miserable here. The murders will surely not go unjustly.

As I am turning a new hallway I happen to meet up with Riddle.

“All good?”

“Of course,” he responds. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

He seems to look around quite a bit. Like he’s searching for something.

“Head back to your class, I will look around once more.”

That’s the last thing he says before moving around me with his hand on my shoulder. Quickly slipping past me.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“No, no no,” I whisper to myself as I crumple yet another paper in my hand. I throw it on the ground next to me and huff out a breath.

Writing this bloody essay is taking more time than I predicted. It usually comes naturally to me but I can’t seem to write correctly. Every time I make a mistake I have to start over again. My handwriting failing to write neatly for once.

My whole structure and information is already figured out. Writing is what’s taking me the longest. No matter how hard I try, the letters never seem to come out correctly from my quill.

Especially the f’s.

Infuriating really. I only have an hour left until the library closes. It already technically shut down but the librarian gave me an extra three hours as long as I lock up.

Perks of being Head Girl I suppose.

My head is in my hands as I compose myself. It’s late and I’m tired, it’s not even safe to be out at this time. At least if I happen to die I wouldn’t have to write this essay.

“How long have you been trying at this-” a low voice asks behind me.

I jump in my seat, “Oh it’s just you. Well, it’s been-”

“And failing?” Tom finishes as he takes the seat next to me. The chair turned slightly to me.

I roll my eyes and fall further back into my seat. My head turned upwards, admiring the flying books in the ceiling. Finding their place, their way home.

“Probably an hour and a half,” I sigh. “You’re completely right about how bad my calligraphy is.”

He just nods his head and takes a fresh new sheet from the middle of the table. His quill magically appears from inside his robe. All the papers that have the plans for my essay start to float around his head and workspace. Occasionally glancing up at them from time to time and then going back to writing.

His lips are pursed in concentration, “I write my F’s like this. It’s easier that way and extremely easy to practice and write quickly.”

My head peers over his shoulder as I watch him effortlessly indite.

“You try,” he opens up my fingers that were closing my hand and places a quill in them.

I furrow my eyebrows and start to practice my letters on a separate piece of paper that I originally scrapped. I don’t want to waste paper and there’s no reason to get a fresh new one.

We both work quietly in the night until the last few minutes of opening time. Before I left the room I saw him quickly go far back into the library. I never got to ask him why he arrived here so late.

Never saw the need to.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~ Taglist:

@empath-bunny

@jinxqsu

53 notes · View notes

itsok2bunstable-blog · 5 years

Text

This has got to be the worst year of my life. The stress felt like I could be buried in it. Every day the work piled higher and higher, until eventually it felt like Mount Everest was standing on my chest, making it hard to grasp even the smallest breathe of air.

“This just isn’t going to work out anymore”

I woke from my daydream to stare at the all too familiar face in front of me. The storm gray eyes I fell in love with six months ago, when I first laid eyes on the man in front of me, now all they did was make me feel sick. Like I was about to lose the walking tacos I had for lunch right here right now.

“But why?”

All I wanted was an explanation. Sure, lately we have both been so busy with our intense schedules that seeing each other became difficult. Not to mention the undeniable difference that’s been going on between us since he started working with that new girl who transferred into our school a month ago. I could have seen this coming if I paid attention to the obvious signs. That, however, does not mean that this felt any better. In fact, currently my heart felt like it was slowly being pulled out of my chest, so slow that I could feel every tear from an artery, every movement of the clenched fist around my pumping heart, squeezing it so tightly that I just wished it would stop pumping blood through my weak body.

“It’s not you...”

The over used words of every ending relationship rang through my ears like a siren, never ending and only getting louder. The words Jessie said sounded muffled, like he was talking under water. I caught some things, like how he’s been seeing that new girl and falling for her with every time they met. The world around me seemed to spin all except for the boy in front of me, I realized in this moment that he was not a man, but a boy posing as a man.

“Ariel, please don’t put this on yourself. We just didn’t work out, friends?”

From there I only remember bits and pieces, I remember saying okay. I remember walking to my house and briefly waving at the few people I passed by. I somehow manger to keep the building tears at bay until I reached my small apartment. As soon as I unlocked the door, my knees buckled sending me crashing to the floor, the sobs shook my chest as they came out. This is what they call an ugly cry. Soon enough I was coughing with every breathe. All the promises of forever, all the I love you’s, the talks about our future together, all meant absolutely nothing now. All of it was one gigantic lie. It felt like someone placed a fifty-pound weight on my chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. Almost being the keyword, I could still manage small gasps of air, just enough to keep me alive. All I could feel as pain, insane pain.

After two hours of nonstop crying I finally settled from an outrageous sob to a soft tear cry, and was able to call my best friend, the only other person that knew about her panic attacks other than the boy she just waisted six months on. Cody rushed over, of course with my most favorite comfort items, including a blue fuzzy blanket from his house, a cheesy chick flick and curly fries from Arby’s with Arby’s sauce. I couldn’t help but close my heavy eyes as he ran his fingers through my thick black hair.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me yet punk, we haven’t even gotten to the overly dramatic breakup”

I let a small chuckle from my lips, there’s a possibility he’s watched way too many of these movies with me. I pluck a fry from the container before submerging it into the sauce and throwing it into my mouth where I relished in the sweet and spicy combination before saying my first words all night.

“Thank you for coming”

My voice sounded so weak and hoarse that I cringed, barely recognizing my own voice. Even after years of this, I still felt so embarrassed allowing anyone to see me this weak.

“Hey, it’s kind of my job considering I am your best friend”

I offered a weak smile in his direction. Our moms were best friends since high school, they somehow managed to get pregnant at the same time. We were raised together, even though he is two days younger than me, since someone just had to take their sweet ole time to come out. We were raised together, family vacations, family dinners, tons of sleepovers, any huge event basically was spent together. Through the years we developed a close knit of friends, his football friends and my lacrosse friends meshed well and once we got to high school it wasn’t just us, parties, hanging out, we were typically always in group of six with our closest friends. Still, we always managed to make time for just us, even if it was just helping my mom make dinner before Friday Family Night. However, when we were 15 my world came crashing around me. My loving mother, who had been fighting leukemia for three years suddenly took a turn for the worst and lost her long battle. At her funeral I had my first ever panic attack, people who I never met were approaching me and telling me how much I looked like her, how sorry they were, that at least I got 1 years to be her daughter and remember the lessons she taught me. It all became too much to handle and before I knew what was happening, I was shaking, feeling ice cold, my world was spinning, and it became so difficult to breathe. Cody, who hadn’t left my side all day immediately picked up on his and carried me outside, where I cried on is shoulder for a solid 45 minutes while he held me and didn’t say a single thing, he just let me cry it out. That was the first of many, very quickly out tradition became Arby’s fries and a movie, sometimes three however many it took to make me feel better.

“Where’s your mind at chicken?”

The nickname I haven’t been able to shake since we were 13 when I refused to jump off a cliff into the local river makes me roll my eyes.

“Well unlike you I’m watching the movie.”

Small white lies to keep him from knowing how often I think of my mom usually work and keep me from having to explain these things, in truth though he knows without asking, it’s like this unspoken truth between us because I know he thinks of her as well. Before I can even register what is happening a pillow is hitting my face. As a child I always ought a pillow fight would be soft and not hurt, because pillows are soft and tender and there’s no way they could hurt. Man was I false, my face stung from the zipper of the cushion hitting my cheek and I’m sure my face insanely turned red after the impact. My moth dropped, forming an O as I mincingly shot the death glare at Cody. I grabbed the closest pillow too me and swung it with all my might in his direction. His eyes widened and he flinched before I even made contact, he held out his hands in the hopes to deflect the object now flying at him. The pillow made contact in the most epic pillow swing ever seen on this planet. As I wound up for hit number two, because let’s face it who ends a pillow fight at just when hit he yelped,

“Mercy! Mercy!”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his big baby eyes, starring up at me begging me to end this pillow torture.

“I hit harder than you youngin”

He narrowed his baby blue eyes at me and wined.

“Only by two days”

This got me to giggle because he sounded exactly like he did when we were eight, that same little voice that cried to mom anytime we got into a fight or he scraped a knee riding his bike.

“Oh, hush up. Look it’s the breakup”

We watched as Savanna broke up with John through a letter after not talking to him in months, we watched as he threw all the letters into a fire pit and his best friend approached him. That’s when we learn that she was engaged to another man and planning on getting married to him.

“Well that was shitty.”

I most definitely agreed but at the same time he chose to reenlist after 9/11 without even really discussing the option with her. I could only imagine how it felt knowing he might never come home, especially after 9/11.

“I mean she definitely could have done it better, but he did reenlist”

As we continued to argue about the Nicolas Sparks movie, I couldn’t help but think about Jessie. Fr the past few weeks anytime I tried to reach out he was always too busy to hang out yet was able to make time for this new girl.

“He was probably with her every time.”

My own voice made me jump as I realize I said this personal inside thought out loud, meaning Cody most definitely heard it. Since Cody got here while I was an absolute mess I wasn’t able to tell him at happened. Once I got calmed down enough, he knows not to ask because nine times out of ten it sets another attack off just thinking about the trigger.

“What?”

I turned so my body was facing him and as the tears slowly fell down my cheeks, leaving wet trails behind their path, I told him the story. With Cody I don’t typically hold anything back, he’s always been my safe space, my go to for rants and I know anything I do say is between me and him.

“I’m going to kill him”

Was his only response after I finished, I gave him a soft smile after wiping the last of my tears away.

“As sweet as the offer is, we both know he would probably pummel you.”

His hard expression turns soft before he sighs and rubs his face with his hand.

“Your right on that, but he deserves something after the pain es caused you. I am not okay with that; you’ve been through enough already. Stuff he knows about, yet he continued to do this.”

Instead of responding to this, I crawl into his lap and burry my face into the nape of his neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist. The best thing about Cody, is he’s been in my life for so long now that this doesn’t feel awkward, the hugs don’t have meaning behind them other then offering a safe place for me in my weak moments. We stayed in this position, with me silently crying his shoulder until the movie ended. When the credit scene rolled, I jumped up from his lap, wiped my tears, and told him I had an idea.

Walking into Jessie and the psychology blonde having sex is not exactly what I was expecting when we got to Jessie’s house. When Cody pulled up and I noticed that the door was wide open, somehow, I didn’t see the beetle parked next to Jessie’s 2004 light blue Mustang. I walked through the kitchen, not hearing a single sound until I reached the living room. Where the blonde was on her knees, with Jessie’s back facing me. My mouth dropped as I witnessed him pull her hair something, he had done to me a million times. Cody touched my arm making me jump in place before awkwardly clearing his throat. The girl screamed and grabbed a t shirt in attempt to cover herself. Jessie however turned around completely unfazed and turned around with a cocky smile.

“Oh hey, you should have called”

My eyes were still focused on the girl desperately trying to cover herself, as if I didn’t just get a full show of everything, she has to offer a few minutes ago.

“I tried. Three times”

My voice comes out so steady and clean it shocks even me.

“Oh sorry, I’ve been a bit occupied”

Jessie scratched the back of is head, trying to seem guilty but enjoying this moment all too much.

“Put some pants on jackass.”

Cody’s voice wakes me from my zone, and I can feel his thumb moving up and down on the small of my back a slight comfort in this crazy moment. Him being here makes all this a bit easier to handle, because I know if it was just me, I would have lost my stuff the minute I walked into this room. I watch as Jessie grabs his shorts from the ground and slides them on effortlessly, as if his is ex-girlfriend of not even a day walking in on him having sex with another girl happens often.

“Come get our shit”

Without another word, I pivot on my heel and walk back through the kitchen and out to Cody’s Nissan Altima. I popped the trunk and start throwing Jessie’s things onto the street. Before I reach the fourth box Cody came from behind me and grabbed my hands. Jessie was behind me desperately trying to gather the things that have fallen out from the boxes.

“Let me do it.”

I sheepishly manage to nod my head and step back as Cody unloads the last two boxes. As this all unfolded Infront of me my mind went completely blank. My head tilted back, and I saw the stars of the night sky. Suddenly the toll that today has taken on me takes full effect and the exhaustion takes over. He didn’t even wait a day; we broke up a total of six hours ago and she was already over here. He same girl he broke up with me for.

“Come on.”

Cody’s touch startles me from my thoughts, and when I look back down from the sky, I realize it’s just me and him alone in the empty street. Cody’s soft hand guides me to the passenger side of the car, where he opens the door and allows me to slide in. My whole body feels numb, every limb of my body feels heavy. My head rolls back onto the seat cushion as Cody starts the car. I can feel my eyelids getting heavier with every blink I take and before I know it, they become too heavy to even open. The last thought that crosses my mind before sleep finally takes over is,

He’s been sleeping with her this whole time.

#heartbreak panicattack bestfriens

1 note · View note

dearophelia · 7 years

Text

so, for reasons that i’m too sleepy to explain, i’ve started an original story and it’s basically a thirtysomething homicide detective discovering that she’s a banshee. through that discovery, she also learns that her boss is literally the morrigan, her partner is one of odin’s ravens and can shapeshift accordingly, and the cute paramedic she has a crush on is a mermaid.

hijinks, snark, and a romance subplot that is both lesbian and happy ensue. also some crime-solving on the side.

and here’s the wildly unedited beginning. my self-confidence is super fragile lately, please be nice and supportive; i nearly shoved this in the “no one’s gonna want to read it, don’t bother” pile despite it being literally one of the two things that bring me joy right now

The body’s still fresh. She can feel it.

Yesterday, she couldn’t feel bodies. Smell them if they’ve been dead long enough in the sun, yes, but anyone with a nose could do that. Feel them tingling in her fingertips, feel the vibration work it’s way up her veins and crawl into her bones until her spine buzzes with the proximity - no. That’s definitely new in the last twenty-four hours.

Katherine suppresses a yawn, flashes her badge to the unfamiliar deputy manning the tape, and ducks underneath to join her partner. Deck silently hands her a cup of coffee and respectfully lets her take two slow sips before she starts talking.

“You look awful,” Deck says, with such an abrupt tone that Katherine knows it wasn’t what her brain had lined up to say next.

“Thanks.” Katherine rubs the back of her neck. Sweat’s beginning together under her ponytail, and it’s not even 7:30am. She wrinkles her nose - she hates September. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

An understatement. More like no sleep. She tried, once she finally got home from the precinct, but she’d closed her eyes and saw the boy’s body. That alone wasn’t enough to keep her awake - eight years as a homicide detective, she’s seen plenty of dead bodies when she closes her eyes. The screaming is what kept her awake. Her throat hurt enough to tell her that the screaming was her own, but it sounded wrong - it had an echo, almost a vibration.

She’d tried a few more times, and gave up when her roommate came home from his hospital shift at 3:30. Three hours of Pac-Man isn’t the most useful, but at least she wasn’t seeing a dead boy open his eyes and stare right at her, and at least she wasn’t screaming that horrid distorted shriek.

She shakes off the memory and takes another sip of coffee.

“I’m surprised you even showed up today,” Deck says, keeping her voice quiet. Crime scenes attract about a thousand people, civilian, police, and police-adjacent.

Katherine shrugs. “Thought about it, but then realized I’d have to tackle the Mount Everest of laundry and this seemed more interesting.”

Deck quirks an angular eyebrow even higher. “Glad I could help you avoid basic housekeeping by providing you with a convenient murder.” She smirks.

Katherine smiles as the sun finally crests over the tops of the skyscrapers. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Anytime.” Deck taps her sunglasses so they from her dark hair onto her face. “You awake enough yet to work?” She opens up her tablet.

After another sip of coffee, Katherine nods. “Yeah. What are we looking at?” The tingle in her spine grows to a loud vibration as they walk toward the body.

Very fresh. Two hours, tops.

“48 year old Mark Stanley. Owned the house,” she gestures to the house behind the yard they’re standing in. “Neighbor called it in when she went out to get her morning paper, thought he had passed out drunk or was having a heart attack. Paramedics found him dead, called us because his chest had been carved out, and the heart removed.”

“That makes six vics.” More disturbing than doing laundry, but still - not laundry.

“Yep. ME puts time of death around 5:00 this morning.”

Lucky guess, Brady, though the buzz along her bones tells her it wasn’t a guess at all. A problem for later, when she doesn’t have a job to do and procedures to follow. Katherine snaps on a pair of gloves and kneels beside the body.

She rests her hand on his shoulder, intending to push his shirt aside and check for the mark they’ve found on the other five. But as soon as she touches the body, the scene shakes and shifts and suddenly she’s two hours earlier, kneeling in the garden in the dark beside the same roses. Only the man isn’t there yet. He’s walking up from the driveway with his newspaper in hand, texting someone.

The street lamp blows out with a hiss. The man turns around to peer into his now-darkened front lawn, and then staggers backward as an unseen force slams into him. He drops his phone, an eerie pale glow in the dark until the screen times out and it’s lost in the grass, and gets dragged back to the very roses Katherine’s kneeling beside.

The thick, palpable darkness is crowded with shadows, and Katherine holds very, very still.

Something starts to click and chirrup in the back of its throat. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Abruptly, the noise stops. Though she can see nothing in the dark, Katherine feels it staring at her. She yanks her hand away from the dead man’s shoulder.

The crime scene shifts back into place, and Deck’s kneeling opposite her with a very concerned expression.

Maybe this isn’t a problem for much later after all. Maybe it’s a problem for preferably sometime before lunch.

#screams into the void hits post goes back to bed #tumblrapp is shit now re: pasting large blocks of text and then also reviewing large blocks of text so i had to get up #and boot up my computer despite that i should've been asleep two hours ago #s:words #s:banshee #i guess rebloggable? sure why not #verse:voidwalkers

38 notes · View notes

little-escape-route · 7 years

Text

I want your sleepy Monday mornings, when the screaming alarm wakes us, and you snooze it because you don't want to leave the warm, cozy home we've made in my bed. I want your irritated Tuesday afternoons, when your work load is piling up higher than Mount Everest, when your boss is talking faster than a cheetah runs, just so I can calm the wildest of your storms. I want your dreaded Wednesday 5 o'clock traffic jams, when you're preforming your very own concert in the car, when the midweek exhaustion has set in and you feel like you can't finish the day. I want your anxious late Thursday nights, when the rush to finish your project eats you up like a starving wolf, when you drink a whole bottle of merlot to yourself, as if it was the only water in the Sahara desert, and when the jitters shake you more than a construction worker on a jackhammer. I want your excited Friday nights, wether we hibernate like bears, build forts stronger than The Great Wall, and eat enough pizza to feed a village. Or when we get so glamorous we could walk the red carpet in LA. I want our adventurous Saturday days, where the ditch the burden of what's been going on in the world, where we point to a destination with no worry of the outcome and get lost in each other. I want our cozy Sunday nights, where the weight of the new week is heavy on our shoulders, where I sit there and write all of the beautiful ways that I love you, where you sit next to me on the couch and we'd sink in to our weekly habits.

#personal #writings #excerpt from a book i'll never write

5 notes · View notes

scienceblogtumbler · 4 years

Text

Unearthing evidence for the origins of plate tectonics

Minerals trapped inside tiny crystals that have survived the grinding of the continents over billions of years may help to reveal the origins of plate tectonics and perhaps even provide clues about how complex life sprang up on Earth.

The theory of plate tectonics – which describes how the Earth’s crust is separated into plates that float and slide on a layer of malleable rock below – became widely accepted by science around 50 years ago. The process is believed to have largely shaped the world around us by enabling continents to form, throwing up enormous mountain ranges when they collide, creating volcanic islands and triggering catastrophic earthquakes.

But there is still debate about exactly how and when in our planet’s 4.5-billion-year history the plates formed, estimates vary from less than one billion to 4.3 billion years ago.

It is also unclear exactly how quickly plate tectonics evolved, says Dr Hugo Moreira, a geologist at the University of Montpellier in France. Did Earth’s crust split abruptly into multiple plates and start moving over just tens of millions of years, or was the process far more gradual, taking hundreds of millions of years or more?

Understanding this could prove crucial for understanding not just how the planet itself has evolved, but also how life may have been kickstarted on Earth. The conditions created by plate tectonics are thought to have helped make Earth hospitable to life in the first place and also provided vital nutrients needed for complex multicellular life to prosper.

Crystal time capsules

Dr Moreira and his colleagues are seeking answers to these questions inside tiny zircon crystals, which are time capsules of Earth’s distant past due to their extreme robustness. They are often found preserved in rock despite the action of continual weathering and geological events.

Many of these crystals have previously been dated by analysing the radioactive decay of isotopes – different forms of elements – that they contain. Some have been found to date as far back as 4.4 billion years ago, the earliest known fragments of Earth’s crust.

‘That’s why zircon’s amazing, because although the rocks that compose the continents were destroyed, the zircon survived in the sedimentary record,’ said Dr Moreira. Scientists have previously used zircon crystals to study the history of the Earth’s continental crust, but it has not yet been enough to provide a definitive consensus for how plate tectonics started, he says.

‘After analysing hundreds of thousands of them, we still do not have an agreement,’ said Dr Moreira, a member of the MILESTONE project being led by Dr Bruno Dhuime, a geosciences researcher for the French National Centre for Scientific Research also at the University of Montpellier.

The researchers are hoping to use these crystals – which typically measure about a tenth of a millimetre, or roughly the thickness of a human hair – to improve our insight into the timing and evolution of plate tectonics.

The MILESTONE group will drill down to an even tinier scale – about a hundredth of a millimetre – to examine traces of apatite and feldspar minerals trapped inside the zircon crystals. Strontium and lead isotopes in these ‘inclusions’ can add unprecedented detail on the zircon’s source of formation and whether this occurred in the varying types of magma below stagnant or moving plates, says Dr Moreira.

‘It will be a critical step towards a better understanding of how our planet evolved,’ he said. ‘If we manage to measure the isotopic composition of these tiny inclusions, we might tell what was the composition of the rock from which the zircon crystallised. We can perhaps understand how evolved the crust was at that point and in which type of tectonic settings the magma was formed.’

This tiny-scale analysis been made possible by the set-up of a laboratory containing a specialised, highly sensitive mass spectrometer, equipment that measures the characteristics of atoms.

The team hopes to start analysing samples next month, ultimately investigating inclusions in more than 5,000 zircons of varying age from all over the world to build up a wide-scale picture. ‘What we want to do is pinpoint when plate tectonics went global instead of when it was localised in isolated points here and there,’ said Dr Moreira.

Underground structures

At the opposite end of the scale, other researchers have been seeking clues to the origins of plate tectonics in two massive continent-sized structures found deep underground beneath the Pacific and African plates.

These ‘thermochemical piles’, mysterious structures located about 2,900 kilometres below the surface at the boundary between Earth’s core and mantle, were discovered in the 1990s with the aid of seismic tomography – imaging from seismic waves produced by earthquakes or explosions. They were detected as potentially warmer areas of material in which seismic waves travel at different speeds than in the surrounding mantle, but there is still much debate about exactly what they are, including their composition, longevity, shape and origins.

Over the past couple of decades, a ‘fiery’ debate has arisen over their proposed link to movements on the planet’s surface and so their potential involvement in the emergence of plate tectonics, explained Dr Philip Heron, a geoscientist who studied the structures as lead researcher on the TEROPPLATE project at Durham University.

‘These piles are thought to have an impact on how material moves within the planet, and therefore how the surface behaves over time,’ he said. Events on the surface may in turn drive their activity.

One theory is that these piles are stable for long geological periods and their edges correspond with the position of key features involved in plate tectonics on Earth’s surface, such as supervolcanoes.

However, their extreme depth makes these piles difficult to observe directly. ‘Given that these structures are in places 100 times higher than Mount Everest, they may be the largest things in our planet that we know the least about,’ said Dr Heron.

Supercomputer power

The TEROPPLATE project harnessed supercomputer power to investigate. Using more than 1,000 computers working in tandem, the team developed 3D models of Earth to show how the assumed chemical composition of large hot regions deep underground might influence the formation and location of deep mantle plumes.

However, their models indicated that the piles may be more passive in plate tectonics than initially thought and that the world would still form similar geological features without them. ‘When looking at the positioning of large plumes of material that form supervolcanoes, our numerical simulations indicated that the chemical piles were not the controlling factor in this,’ said Dr Heron.

But he added that these findings were not fully conclusive and have also opened the door to other interesting avenues for research – such as exploring the implications that these structures are constantly moving through the mantle rather than being largely stationary.

‘It gives weight to the theory that the chemical piles may not be rigid and fixed in our planet, and that the deep Earth may evolve as readily as the continents on our surface move around,’ he said. ‘It’s a push to start looking deeper.’

Some of TEROPPLATE’s results also indicate that the piles may have been robust enough to survive Earth’s earliest beginnings. That makes it feasible for them to have been around for the start of plate tectonics and thus to have had roles in the process that we don’t yet know about, adds Dr Heron.

All of this could have implications for understanding our own place on Earth too. If, for instance, plate tectonics evolved rapidly early in Earth’s history, it may raise questions such as why complex life didn’t emerge earlier or just how closely the two are linked, says Dr Moreira.

‘To fundamentally understand where plate tectonics comes from is potentially the essence of life,’ added Dr Heron. ‘On Earth, there’s not a thing that hasn’t been impacted by it.’

The research in this article was funded by the EU. If you liked this article, please consider sharing it on social media.

This article was originally published on Horizon magazine.

source https://horizon.scienceblog.com/1400/unearthing-evidence-for-the-origins-of-plate-tectonics/

0 notes

preciousmetals0 · 5 years

Text

Invest in the Next Apple ASAP — Here’s How

Invest in the Next Apple ASAP — Here’s How:

Investor Insights:

Apple’s stock is up almost 1,000% since the beginning of the 2010s.

A famous 13th-century story best explains this kind of exponential growth.

At Automatic Fortunes, our mission is to identify and invest in next-generation technologies before the herd.

Every $1,000 invested in Apple at the beginning of the 2010s turned into roughly $10,000 on New Year’s Eve this week.

It’s hard to see this kind of massive growth because our brains aren’t programmed to think exponentially.

There’s a famous 13th-century story that best explains exponential growth and why it’s hard to fathom.

In it, the king of the realm loves playing chess. He enjoys the game so much that he wants to reward the inventor handsomely.

The inventor of chess thinks for a minute and then asks the king to take a chessboard, put one grain of rice in the first square and then double the amount of rice in each subsequent square.

After the first row of the board is filled, the inventor owns a total of 256 grains of rice — a little more than a handful.

With the first half of the chessboard complete, he now owns a football-field-sized amount of rice.

But that’s where things get out of hand…

For the king to fulfill his wish and complete the second half of the board, he would have to pay the inventor a pile of rice the size of Mount Everest.

The lesson of the story is that exponential growth means things happen slowly at first, but then all at once.

Here’s how it applies to this new decade’s biggest tech trends…

Science Fiction Becomes a Reality

According to Moore’s law, the number of transistors on integrated circuits doubles every two years, though the cost of computers is halved.

That means computers get smarter while their circuitry becomes smaller and cheaper.

This process has been happening since the 1950s. In that time, a warehouse-sized mainframe computer has shrunk enough to now reside in your pocket or on your wrist.

Today’s computers are also much more powerful. The average iPhone has 1 million times more memory than the computer that landed the Apollo 11 on the moon in 1969.

Machines have been following the path of the chessboard. The smartphone barely existed a decade ago, and now 2.7 billion people carry one around with them.

But here’s what’s shocking … we’re only halfway through the chessboard, as the integrated circuit has gone through only 30 two-year cycles.

If technology continues to improve at its current exponential rate, the next half-century will mimic the rice bounty growing from a football field to Mount Everest.

It also means more of what we once considered science fiction becomes a reality — self-driving cars, virtual reality, artificial intelligence, gene editing and new cures for disease and aging.

Bigger Than Apple, Google and Amazon

At Automatic Fortunes, our mission is to invest in these next-generation technologies. We use a simple four-step strategy to find winning positions.

That’s helped me find winners such as Amazon and Apple before they collectively soared more than 2,182%.

The basis of this strategy is to find companies that are involved with tipping-point trends — new technologies that are finally coming to fruition.

That’s helped us get in early on 5G, electric vehicles and clean energy. And we recently closed one of our tech positions for a big profit in under two months when our supercomputer company was bought out.

But it’s not too late to buy these stocks. They’ll benefit from the tipping-point trends that will play out over the next decade, just as Amazon and Apple did in the 2010s.

If you don’t want to miss out on the biggest trends of the 2020s, then learn more about Automatic Fortunes by clicking here.

Regards,

Ian King

Editor, Automatic Fortunes

P.S. One company I recently added to the Automatic Fortunes portfolio has higher sales growth than Apple, Google and Amazon … combined! Click here to find out more.

0 notes

goldira01 · 5 years

Link