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lsobelevans · 3 years

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Horror tropes? In my Roswell, New mexico? It’s more likely than you think!

In this essay I will...

...be mentioning a few horror/thriller movies and while nothing explicitly gory or scary will be shown in this post, those movies definitely contain scenes and themes that can be disturbing/scary/triggering, do your researches if you’ve got doubts!

...be focusing on the Maria and Alex road-trip, from the moment the car breaks down to the last scene with Travis’ twin. I’m probably going to be led to briefly mention the other scenes that are intertwined with this arc (the echo date and the Planet 7 Kyle and Isobel scene, as well as the marlex car drive when I feel like it is relevant).

...be approaching specific themes that are used in the scenes that compose this little arc and also more general ones like sound, editing, cinematography and color.

... be reaching a lot. I do not think everything I will be mentioning is 100% thought-out and voluntary (although you never know). But I’m a firm believer that in filmmaking, yes even inside a CW show, the symbolism comes through subconsciously. So like, maybe they didn’t mean to use corn field as a mark for transition, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that this symbolism works with the story they’re telling and for the journey the characters are in that moment. Additionally, lighting, decor and costumes are always a choice, just like the camera doesn’t position itself randomly, someone’s behind and thinking of the composition of shots that, even if it’s in a basic way, has meaning.

... be starting chronologically but I’ll also make jumps backward and forward, grasping on themes when they come up. Ok, then, let’s dive in!

This episode references and uses a lot of the iconic mechanisms of the horror movie genre. Alex and Maria’s comfortable road trip atmosphere, open hearted conversation in the car, breaks at the same time as the car itself breaks. The camera, steady so far, the shots following a well known pattern of shot/counter-shot, becomes more unpredictable and shakier and suddenly we’re out of the car, and bam, large shot.

From the moment they’re out of the car, you won’t be able to see the horizon. Maria and Alex are stuck in a corn field, and they’re stuck in the frame.

Then poof, Travis appears out of nowhere, accompanied with a pang of music, frightening us and them. Well, more exactly, it cuts on a shot that we’ve seen before without Travis, now with Travis, which gives us the appearing out of nowhere effect.

Alex says it best.

Well now they’re stuck with a strange guy with an axe, and in a corn field 😬

Hey, have you seen he’s got an axe??? or do you need a close-up???

Okay, this scene ends there. So, let’s take a break and talk about cornfields. There’s many examples of horror movies making use of a field of corn as a location, famously Children of the Corn (1984), Dark Night of the Scarecrow (1995) Signs (2002), that last one also involving, you guessed it, aliens.

Screenshots from the Signs trailer.

Corn fields are strongly associated with rurality, especially rural America. More largely, they can represent renewal, fertility or abundance. In the contrary, they can be seen as a very ominous location due to their immensity, a labyrinth in which you can’t see very far away and from which you’ll have trouble coming out.

Although I’m pretty sure Maria’s chase in the cornfield is more of a reference to The Shining (1980) it reminded me of one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite movies Tom à la ferme (2013), in which Tom is basically held hostage in rural Canada. The corn field chase is a turning point, the last of Tom's attempts to escape.

Cornfields apparently also often imply scarecrows, which are inherently scary in my opinion but we’ll talk about it more later.

The next scene takes place inside of Travis' cabin.

The lighting here is pretty low, the light coming from a few small sources, creating a lot of shadows. The main color is a greenish/yellow which can be associated with nature and earth, rurality, dirty, suffocating. If we look at it, the color scheme of the entire road trip is very much following this pattern of browns/yellows/greens because of the cornfield and the color of the characters costumes (the exception being Maria’s truck which is a bright red). In opposition, the scenes that are intertwined are either blue and orange for Max and Liz or a lot of pink/blues/purples for Isobel and Kyle in planet 7 (bi bi bi).

The cabin is messy, supposedly reflecting the state of the owner’s mind. We get a nice close-up on meat + a knife and all of the creepy skins on the walls. Also, it’s noticeable that from this moment on, the camera is shakier, we experience different angles too.

We are given many visual clues that something is wrong.

I’m gonna pass on the sound of the sound of the cow parodying a werewolf + the vampire diaries inside joke.

Btw, if the fact that Travis names his cows -- that he skins for a living -- like human women isn’t enough for you to think mmmm. we are in danger. Well, don’t worry. The cw spells it out for you!!

We know Alex! We got contextual clues!

Right after this, Alex and Maria make another direct reference to being in a horror movie situation.

ALEX: This is why I don’t like horror films. The gay guy always dies first.

MARIA: ????

ALEX: Or... second. Okay, that’s fair. That look, that’s fair.

I think this bit is interesting, because not only does it denounce an horror movie cliché (the black person of the cast dies first, the queer person is second) but also in this situation I believe it can be see as kind of a callout on the fandom’s behavior that i’m not gonna spell out for you but yeah. Fellow queer people, don’t forget you’re not the only one who is sometimes badly/unfairly represented.

Moving on. In the next scene, Alex is searching the cabin for clues, and we are also given some about Travis.

Either he has a twin brother or he’s got a framed picture of himself on his wall. Oh, and he’s military.

Then Travis startles Alex and plays a little bit of banjo, which is a good excuse to stop and talk about music. The show uses a lot of diegetic music aka music that is present in the universe of the story, that the characters can also hear. It justify the use of said music and it ties the audio with the picture.

The banjo already is heard at the very beginning of the arc during a cut from the planet 7 scene to the road trip scene. We get a few notes that indicate a change of scenery and that helps smooth up the transition, and I’m pretty sure it was also supposed to be diegetic music coming from Maria’s radio. The banjo, like the corn field, is super linked with rurality and rural America (again!)

Another reference of the banjo in horror/thriller would be Deliverance (1972).

youtube

I can’t not think of this movie when I hear banjo unfortunately.

The way Travis plays, aggressively bad, and while singing I Think We’re Alone Now, is supposed to make you think about that scene in The Umbrella Academy be quite unsettling, another point for isolation horror.

So sweet of Travis to attack Alex with a guitar, and then a smol knife, and not with the axe <3.

Then we’ve got a traveling zoom-in (or equivalent I’m not sure it isn’t a steady-cam here but the effect is the same) on Maria. This kind of effect can feel a little bit over-the-top and dramatic, in a old genre movie kind of way. It is usually used to bring the audience in, make it feel like you’re evolving in the same universe as the characters (here you’re walking toward Maria). In a scene where you should feel scared, it can be a mean to make you feel more engaged, as well as underlining Maria’s expression, her fear. In my opinion, this is also a way to tell you that from now on, Maria is the main character of this arc, the one that you will be following after the commercial break (that occurs right after) and making it more suspenseful.

The scene after the break is the start of the corn-field chase. Travis steps out of the cabin, the cuts are faster, many close-shots, some even out of focus, that accelerate the rhythm, and a long fade-in of a new song: a modern, electronic song (Kim Petra’s Close You Eyes) completely in opposition with the acoustic banjo and with the atmosphere of the scene, which makes it strange and makes you think oh, what a weird choice! (at least it did for me lol). The lyrics, however, go very well with the scene.

I feel it coming on You've got nowhere to run There's no way you'll make it out alive

Yep.

We find out right after that the music is in fact diegetic but for Isobel and Kyle, it’s another use of music to ease a transition between 2 scenes that are different in every possible way.

Now, the corn-field chase. As I mentioned before, I believe it’s a direct reference to The Shining’s ending chase scene where Jack Torrance chases his son Danny through a vegetal labyrinth with an axe.

From the shots to the lighting (from behind or on the side, making the characters look like silhouettes) both scenes are very similar. Also, Travis is styled like Jack Nicholson ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh look, Michael’s here to save the day!

Oh well, guess not.

Yeah, in this scene, and like we’ve been shown before, Maria is going to be the one that saves everyone. The racist cliché of the black character dying first in a horror movie is reversed, Maria is the last one standing. The scarecrow (that looked conveniently a lot like Maria) is supposed to play in favor of the bad guy, it’s a scary element, creating confusion and unease, but here the character decides to basically take it into her own hands and bend the rules. This character says i’m not that archetype, and she’s going to be using the horror movie tools against itself.

Lastly, the final horror movie recurring theme that I’m going to talk about is the twin/the double.

Yes, twins is a spooky tool used in horror movie because their similarities make them unsettling, uncanny.

There’s also the idea that if one were to replace the other, you wouldn’t be able to tell. The impostor is a very scary concept that Roswell has also dealt with before.

I can’t be the only one that has been traumatized by that halloween special of the Simpsons where Bart has an evil twin...

It’s the last twist of the arc, there is a bad!Travis and a good!Travis. The bad one kept the other locked-up somewhere and had taken his place.

It’s particularly interesting for Roswell that has a history with twins/doppelgänger, and that since the original show. It is a clear instance of in-world foreshadowing here! (howdy)

My conclusion about all this is that the people who worked on 2x06 had a great time building the episode and it shows, while also making it enjoyable to watch and yeah, we love to see it!

#roswellmarchformeta2021 #rnmmarchformeta2021 #meta #or whatever this is ahah #tw violence #i'm so sorry i'm late for this ;___;#mine*

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keyofjetwolf · 4 years

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GIFTENING Bonus Rounds

For each category, I included a “bonus round” question. YOU GUYS KILLED IT. I loved all the answers, but listed below are some of my particular favourites.

Haruka Tenoh is trapped in the wrong anime! Which would you have her visit next?

I want her to earth shake Kyubey out of existence, please and thank you

My bride is a mermaid. She can relate. :P

i think she would THRIVE in bodacious space pirates. gay teenage space pirates whose job is to dress up, be Dramatic, and rob the wealthy??? that shit is RIGHT up her alley

Hamtaro

Princess Tutu - where the world is finally as dramatic as her

PGSM (and Michiru is trapped with her, for REASONS)

Pokemon because everyone deserves to be happy

Any moe-style series so hijinks can ensue at her being baffled by everyone's ages

1960's Speed Racer

is is this a captcha or something i missed oh god

Free! so she can be indifferent to all the hot men and slightly uncomfortable because she still can't swim.

Stick Haruka in a Gundam!

Dump her in Pretear or one of the Precures! It would be hilarious! She's never in the genre she wants to be!

Revolutionary Girl Utena, so she can be offended by misuse of roses.

Initial D, she will out-drive and out-drift all those guys and steal all their girls.

Evangelion. I would feel bad to watch her suffer, but it would be so, so funny for her to be the comparatively most normal person around.

Yakitake Japan! SO SHE CAN HAVE A SNACK OF DELICIOUS RIDICULOUS BREAD BEFORE THE NEXT INTERDIMENSIONAL ANIME STORM WHISKS HER AWAY.

The Holograms or the Misfits? DISCUSS

Holograms

both? both. BOTH IS GOOD

misfits bc Evil Ladies Hot

Steven and the stevens

Misfits. How dare you make us try to think about anything in our lives.

Both, you mad fool. Those combined songs were the best.

The Misfits, their songs are better

The Misgrams: A group of girls who form a singing telegram start up company, but constantly deliver the telegrams to the wrong people.

kimber & stormer

Neither. Limp Lizards all the way. BROKEN GLASS.

I do not know what these things are

Misfits because guitar motorcycle

The Isle of Misfit Holograms

Holograms is just arguably better

I mean, I’m told the Misfits’ songs are better, but my true answer is the band Kimber and Stormer made in that big gay episode you liveblogged (checks) almost four years ago.

I've no idea what these words mean and I hope this does not make me TOO uncool.

this is about jem, right? right?? im hip i swear

Misfits, because Jasper is a member apparently

I don't know from Jem, but I mean...I certainly prefer holographic material to Glenn Danzig? So I guess there's your answer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Stingers

LIMP LIZARDS FOREVER

Senshi Band

You can make me liveblog a full series of any show you want! You also hate me. What do you have me watch?

Pick a GoT rip-off, any GoT rip-off

The Bachelor?

The Bachelor :(

depends on how much i hate you, but....probably the bachelor. quantity AND lack of quality

Critical role, it would take forever

If I were a horrible person who sought only malice? Big Bang Theory. Entire series.

Toddlers and Tiaras

The Mandalorian - Disney would come after you and kill keyofjetwolf just as dead as keyofnik. We would all be very sad, you would have to go through a second round of restoring things to a new tumblr account, and your organizational heart would weep over adding yet another hosting site out of chronological order.

You are liveblogging Eva, and must discuss in full detail Shinji's emotional state at all times.

Hannity & Colmes

The Kardashians. And all of their spin offs. *kisses*

The price is right

the bachelor

Probably something with lots of romance and no friendships. Soap operas are like that, right? My college roommate used to watch General Young Light Restless Hospital of Our Lives (which one had Like and Laura?) And it was torture.

One Piece, because it's over 900 episodes so you could maybe do 10% before you die, also you will hate how the women are treated most of the time.

Fushigi Yuugi. Not only do you hate it but it also comes with you squirming when you admit to watching the whole thing. ;)

Plus belle la vie. It's an ongoing French soap opera that has been airing five days a week since 2004, they're nearing their 4000th episode and there's no end in sight. Imagine all those hours upon hours submerged in French drama, mwahahaha!!

The Bachelor. Or the Bachelorette, maybe - more straight dudes in that.

The Young and the Restless - IT IS THE LIVEBLOG THAT NEVER ENDS. IT WOULD OUTLAST THE INTERNET.

The entirety of the Bachelor franchise.

You can only play one game for the rest of your life. Which game would it be and why?

Kingdom Hearts Complete Collection. A) I love them. B) I beat the system and get like 10 games instead of one.

Gemcraft. This game actually takes a lifetime to finish.

Hatoful Boyfriend. It is the best game ever created. Feel it in your heart.

that's a mean question and you can't make me answer it

Pathfinder, which you could play for the rest of your life and still never finish.

Civ VI , so I can rule the world without leaving my house.

I am legitimately perturbed by this question and refuse to answer it.

Pokemon Go. I would have nothing else, but I would catch them all.

The Elder Scrolls Skyrim: I'll never run out of side-quests.

Mass Effect--it's the only way I'll get full completion.

The dinosaur game on Chrome when the internet doesn't connect because my life is monotonous and it's a welcome relief.

Stardew Valley. Peaceful farmer life and turning my children into doves when I'm bored with them.

Crabs Adjust Humidity

Oh my! A number of things come to mind, not one of them fit for print. Just, you know...*gestures vaguely* sex shit.

I can't even stick to the ones I play now.

This is the worst of all possible things and I refuse to answer.

Monopoly, I hate myself :(

Probably Minecraft! I haven't gotten into it because I know if I start I will NEVER STOP. Who would do things like build a hundred foot tall statue of Mako-chan? A-THAT'D BE ME.

the game. Of LIFE! *shrug emoji*

I don't believe I'll tell you, because I AM a salty little fish and it was HARD to cut that 11th choice off my vote.

Holligay and I are going to be the leads in a new buddy film. What's the premise? How does it end?

Be gay do crimes. Thelma and Louise. Duh. :P

I have no idea but only just surviving disaster is how it ends.

You break down in a small town during a roadtrip- your stay is full of hijinks and ends with you teaching the townsfolk the true meaning of friendship.

Doctor Holligay, Esquire, PhD, renowned Jewish femme of many talents, is assigned one Operative Jet Wolf as her bodyguard on a foreign diplomatic mission/vacation/culinary tour of the world ("same difference, shut up, narrator"). One problem: Operative Wolf needs a bodyguard herself, as the good doctor discovers when in one night her toilet is destroyed ("IT WAS A SECURITY THREAT") and Operative Wolf nearly breaks a leg falling down a small set of stairs ("THEY PUT A CLIFF OUTSIDE THE DOOR"). Worldwide shenanigans ensue as Holligay and Operative Wolf learn the true meaning of friendship, and also how to take care of themselves... by taking care of each other.

I’m not sure about the premise, but DEFINITELY it ends in murder.

Someone posted a major spoiler during one of your liveblogs. The two of you track them down seeking revenge. It turns out it was the original creator of the series trying to stop you. For some reason Holligay is a CGI badger.

It's clearly a buddy cop movie, and like all good buddy cop movies, it ends with Doc almost dying, and you saving her, and slapping her wound in the hospital as the credits roll.

It ends as it began: with Holligay roasting you.

A straight detective and her lesbian partner have to solve the case of the missing cinnamon buns. It ends with nobody getting the guy OR the girl and you drive off into the sunset together, perps behind bars sans cinnamon buns.

I don't know what it's about but I know it will be the only movie that ever existed.

Holligay is the lesbian chief of staff to you somehow being elected President and she's basically running the country while you're the charming face of the administration

Nerd and cowgirl meet at a bar, justifyingly murder some gross dude, go on the run from the law and have a life-changing road trip, on the way Nazis are punched

carrying a delicate object through a forest after your helicopter goes down

Thelma and Louise, but instead of dying, your deaths are clearly faked and you live on a ranch in Montana with your respective spouses and animals. One time a cop comes by the restaurant/bar you joint own with Doc and says, "You look familiar." Doc, in perfect lesbian, answers, "Jet's just got that criminal look, on account of how much she'd love to steal my cheesecake recipe. More pie?"

Queer Eye with a Straight Goy. The two of you do the show but in your own special ways.

Doc Holligay is the wild-west no-nonsense sheriff. Jet Wolf is the all-fun cyberpunk cop from the future. They punch nazis and argue about food. It ends as a tv series ala B99.

Your lives are already a buddy film, don’t get greedy.

Hands and socks. You know how it ends.

See Grumpy Old Men for details. How does it end? Badly.

I can't imagine the premise, but I'm pretty sure the planet explodes.

A Coen Bros film. It ends poorly.

Wait? You're not already living this now?

REI HINO

Sure. Why not?

HINO REI

<3<3<3<3

REI HINO!

Rei who? ;)

REI HINOOOOOOOOO

Plush Is being hugged by Zoisite in your banner.

MINAKO AINO

MAKOTO KINO

The best

SOCKS

MICHIRU KAIOH

It's time tooo.... REI! THAT! HINO!

sponsored by Here! curry

LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES USAGI LOVES REI [THIS REPEATS A LOT A LOT AND IS GLORIOUS] [...] LOVES USAGI LOVES REI LOVES JETWOLF

(THE REAL ONE)

Isn't how you spell Makoto Kino!

THE REAL ONE™

obviously

IS NOT A RHINO

In conclusion: Rei Hino

Rei Hino is giving this Giftening finger guns

BEAUTIFUL, STUNNING, SHOW-STOPPING, TALENTED, AMAZING, WONDERFUL

Hot stuff, lights my fire, blazes it regularly. I am out of fire jokes.

PASSION FLAME, SAILOR MARS

These hot feelings are C'EEEEEST LAAAAA VIIIIIIE c'mon rei-chan why aren't you singing along

IS THE BEST (I know who I'm talking to)

Ara!

DID DOCTOR HOLLIGAY PHD NOMINATE THE OPTION OF TALKING ABOUT MICHIRU KAIOH FOR 6 HOURS!!

If Hot Pocket were to plan One Last Heist, what do you think would be his objective? What would be Mina's role in his master plan?

Master Hot Pocket seeks BREAD. His friend and loyal companion, Mina-pup, acts as a distraction, as he has learned the humans are easily distracted by cute. While she does her sworn duty as Best Friend and Cutest Goodest Girl, probably with lolling tongue and glee at all the pets she receives, he picks the locks on the newly childproofed pantry, and Master Howard H. Pocket FEASTS AS NO CAT HAS BEFORE.

Every bag of flour in Montana; Mina runs distraction with her adorable puppy eyes

Open every container, leave none unmarked. Mina is the lookout who greets whoever comes and is completely ineffective at her job.

TAKE ALL THE FLOUR. Do it straight from the source: FlourCo Inc. What does a 10-pound cat do with eighty thousand tons of flour? If you can't figure that out, there's a reason he's the brains of this outfit. Mina would obviously be the bumbling lovable distraction to security or other people.

Bread. Mina is The Face who provides distraction to the Keepers of the Bread by walking up to them and being herself. Mina has absolutely no idea that Hot Pocket is using her in this manner because Hot Pocket is that Machiavellian, but Mina is a pocket full of sunshine in canine form and probably would just be happy to help out.

Hot Pocket knows that no mammal of the floor believes in flour anymore. It went away a long time ago. It doesn't exist. But what he also knows is that they're wrong. A lack of opposable thumbs won't hide the truth from him. He'll find the stash, and when he does, he'll stick his paw in it. Mina, with her limited climbing skills, will lick its remains from his claw and prove his discovery. As well as provide a warm place to curl up on for the aftermath of their adventure.

His goal is to sample every edible thing he can get his teeth on. Mina pulls triple duty as step stool, distraction, and scape goat

The Silver Crystal. Mina would play the role of Sailor V.

He is getting ALL THE FLOUR. Mina is a lovable distraction.

Looting all the carbs in the pantry. mina is distraction.

mina's role would be the "dopey" but talented best friend who it looks like HP is going to betray for the sake of the plan but then it all comes together when HP mounts a dramatic rescue. i dunno i'm still in film mode from that last one.

The Holy Bread Locked Within the Cupboard. Mina would be the distraction, but she'd forget what she was supposed to be distracting from and end up leading you to him.

I am the Void. I am the Night. I am the Darkness with no hope of dawn. The Flour trembles before me in it's bleached fluffiness. It shall not escape my chaos, which will descend upon it like the Terrors of the Deep, claws and teeth and gnashing. It will howl at my claws. It will scream for my teeth, sharp and white, stars in the night of my fur. I shall tend and tear and -- Dammit, Dog-thing! How am I supposed to be terrible and terrifying with you wagging your tail and panting at me!? Oh, you found a good warm sunbeam? I guess I can stalk stuff later. I am the Void. I shall absorb the Sun's light and warmth and bring it into my Darkness where it cannot escape...

I'm new here and don't know all the complex lore of Jetwolf(fairly sure Mina is dog), so I'm going to assume that Hot Pocket is an actual hot pocket and his heist is robbing Fort Knox using Mina as his loyal stead/get away car. Then he explodes a microwave or something.

i lik the bred

Mina as the distraction while he takes one last tastes of EVERYTHING

objective--stealing more chips; Mina--surprise betrayal

The scene: Mama Jet's pantry The Objective: the bag of cake flour Aunt Doc made Mama Jet buy but she's never used Mina: confused but excited escape vehicle and/or scapegoat

RAIDING THE KING ARTHUR FLOUR FACTORY. Mina is of course adorable and keeps everyone's attention while Hot Pocket swan dives into the flour like Uncle Scrooge

Hot Pocket would definitely try to steal a monument, Carmen SanDiego style. Mina, of course, is the multi-talented and super cute face of the operation.

I have no idea who Hot Pocket is

HP would try to scale the tallest building in the world. Not to steal anything, just to be up there. Mina would be the adorable diversion.

It would be to get whatever food you've left on the counter. Preferably bread. He would tell Mina that he'll give her some of she acts as a distraction. She's a good dog so she does. He's a cat so she gets no food.

Truly, truly, THE GIFTENING winner is us all.

#THE GIFTENING 2019 #THE GIFTENING 2019 admin stuff #long post for ts

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knightofameris · 4 years

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the calm into the storm — infinity war

Setting: Immediately after the snap in IW Gender: None? Or Neutral ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Contains: Lots of death (teenagers, adults) blood, I guess the stuff I wrote counts as OC’s. Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: The world was calm, it continued to exist as the UN hid what happened to Tony Stark to the world and what was happening in Wakanda. But people continued to live life, knowing that whatever was happening, if something was going to happen, the world would be alright as long as they had the Avengers. Or at least whoever was left over. However, the repercussions of the Avengers’ loss would be felt by the people of the world, and it was too late for them to even realize.

a/n: Let me know if there are any mistakes! (rest at the end)

Enjoy! [respot from old account]

❝ i like these calm moments before the storm. it reminds me of Beethoven ❞ — gary oldman

Stars. The shining dots that brighten our sky in the darkest of nights. No matter what the time of day is, they’re always there, always with us. They shine bright or they’re hidden from our own star’s light. There’s beauty hidden behind each of them; an unknown story that has yet to be told. From their gaseous births to their flickering deaths. The stars are wondrous things; as are the moons and planets and just about everything in this universe.

Stars. That’s all Valkyrie could see. That’s all she hoped she would see as her and the other escape pods set off towards Earth.

Her stomach was filled with emptiness and uneasiness. Her jaw clenched as she thought about what most likely happened to Thor and Loki. The ship had exploded; no one could’ve survived that. She didn’t even receive any calls from the two brothers and it’d been days.

Perhaps she should’ve told them her name, her real name. Brunnhilde. She figured they’d know who she was, that she’d be able to fight what’s-his-name and save Asgard.

“This isn’t about fighting and winning,” Thor responded to Brunhilde’s want to fight. “This is about saving the people of Asgard and ensuring their safety. I trust you to keep them safe.”

Brunnhilde shook her head at the memory. She turned around to face the people only to bump into a solid body of rocks.

“Whoop, sorry there,” Korg said. “At least I didn’t step on you, otherwise you’d be dead.” Brunnhilde rolled her eyes at the comment before walking around him. Uneasy Asgardian eyes looked up at her and something pulled at her in her chest. The amount of pain and battle these Asgardians had gone through the past few weeks have been more than any normal civilian should be going through. But they did.

“You know, I think they need a little something to be uplifting,” Korg motioned towards the people. “After their planet being blown up and their king most likely dead, they do need a new leader.”

Brunnhilde turned to face Korg with a stern look etched on her face. “But I’m not a leader. I’m a Valkyrie. All I need to do is keep them safe until we reach Midgard.” And she walked off into the crowd of people.

But something set her off when she felt a chill go through her. All the talking on the pod ceased but pained gasps and short screams replaced it. The sudden imagery of people fading into ash, it stunned Brunnhilde. Her people’s population was already at a low, how could this happen to them?

She gripped her sword on her hip and began to run towards Korg.

“Korg, what’s happening?”

***

“Pass the salt!” The teenager growled at her younger brother for the fourth time. The boy stuck his tongue out before shoving the salt into the girl’s hand. She could only roll her eyes in response but mumbled out a ‘thank you’ after. The sounds of her mother scolding Christian, her brother, filled the air.

The smells of homemade food on the table caused the family dog to dive under the table, hoping for a little snack from one of the family members. Christian glanced at the people sitting down and quickly snatched some of his dinner off his plate for his dog. The furry tail of the golden retriever smacked the legs of the table loudly.

But when the click of the front door opening and closing caused the family dog to bolt towards the it, the family stopped talking to see who the newcomer was. The parents exchanged looks, they weren’t expecting anyone else at the table. With a smile, a man in his early twenties holding a luggage and a few other bags entered the dining room. The family dog circled around his legs and barked.

“Michael!” The girl smiled and jumped out of her seat, the table shook and a few of the drinks in the cups spilled out. The bags fell to the floor when Michael opened up his arms.

“Hey Amy!” Michael’s arms surrounded the young girl as he lifted her up in the air. Sounds of laughter became more apparent in that household. The dad of the house ended up preparing another meal for their newcomer and conversations between the small family brightened up.

“So, how’s life with you and your boyfriend?” Christian asked his older brother. But instead of a reply that one would expect, the clattering of silverware on the table and a veil of silence appeared. The remnants of their oldest brother were left behind by a pile of ashes. Even the sounds of their dog panting disappeared and upon looking under the table, you’d only be met with more ashes.

“Honey?” Their dad looked down at his hands in disbelief before disappearing himself. Amy gripped onto her mother’s arms the moment she felt there was something wrong.

“Mom?” She croaked out before she ended up turning into ashes. Christian and his mom were left sitting there for a few moments before she rushed over to him and hugged him as tight as she could.

“Mom? What’s… What’s going on?”

***

The monitor sounds in the operating room beeped every so often, each one signaling the heartbeat of the patient. The surgeon and nurses were decorated in the typical blue hospital attire while a few students watched from an operating theater. Nurses walking around to grab certain tools, nurses holding parts of the patient’s surgical wound open, and others holding a light made the surgeon’s job easier.

“Miss, we’ll have to hurry this up or he’ll be needing a blood transfusion soon,” one of the nurses stated. The unsoundly noises made by the bloodied gloves of the surgeon caused a few students to gag.

“Have we been given permission to do so?” The surgeon asked, never once looking away from her hands.

“Yes.”

“Then get it ready.” Immediately, other nurses flooded around to ensure that their presence didn’t clog up the room. They were to be made useful. Students in the operating theater hands flew across their papers as they observed how surgeries were done.

The sound of a clipboard falling onto the floor caused all of the students to turn towards the origin of the noise, only to be greeted by an empty chair. Brows furrowed and they looked back into the operating room, goosebumps forming on the arms of all who watched. The surgeon was nowhere to be seen and the nurses left in the room scrambled to save the patient’s life even as they faded themselves.

***

The rising sun met the joggers hazel eyes as she adjusted her earbuds, moving her curly hair out of her face. It was still really dark out and she was hoping she didn’t have to deal with any leftover muggers since it was her first time running this early. But she smiled as she saw people starting to leave their apartment buildings to head into the subways, buses, or taxis, signaling that she should be safe.

The jogger looked down at her phone on the arm and quickly changed it to a radio station to catch up on the news.

“In other news, Tony Stark is still reportedly missing. Colonel James Rhodes, or also known as War Machine, has yet to make a statement.”

“It feels like the UN is hiding something from us, I just have a bad feeling.”

“Is this why you were so against the signing of the Accords?”

“Well, yeah, but that was two years ago and now we…”

Each step the runner took was easy for her. But the ongoing argument between the two radio reporters made the woman frown. She no longer stayed focused on where she was running and who was around her. So when a man grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into an alleyway, she could only stumble and fall on her side.

She yelped and her phone fell out of her arm band and slid away from her. Slowly raising her head up at her attacker, her eyes widened when seeing the gun in his hand. She could feel the stinging on the side of her leg and arm but ignored it as she watched the barrel of the gun being shoved in her face, not even realizing that his hand was shaking.

“Y-You’re gonna come with me,” the man stuttered out. “You’re my hostage, and yo-you’re gonna help me.” The sounds of the radio filled their ears when they both realized the earbuds left the headphone jack after the fall. He scoffed. “How ironic, those heroes aren’t even here to save you.”

But then the sounds of one of the news reporters panicking about how the other person just disappeared brought the woman out of her daze. But the sound of the gun clattering to the floor caused her to scrunch up her face in confusion. Her attention was brought back to where the man once stood but she could only see ashes. Slowly standing up, unsure of what was going on, she reached for her phone. She looked down at her phone, putting the earbuds back into the headphone jack when she walked back out into the city sidewalk.

“Watch out!” She looked up only to see a bus with no driver coming towards her.

***

The ocean waves crashed onto the sandy beach. Screams of joy came out of a small teenager as she ran away from the waves alongside her friends. A scrawny boy in glasses put his arms down to the side, laughing. The pictures he was able to take for his friends ended up being meme-able, especially when they ran away from the waves.

“Don’t get wet, Violet. We’re leaving soon,” the scrawny boy called out.

“I’m already wet, Avery. Wink wonk,” Violet replied, tossing her head back in laughter.

Avery gagged in response, “Gross, tell that to literally anyone else.”

“Yeah, but Serina doesn’t like it when I flirt with her.” Violet looked over at her friend with her eyes squinting in accusation, but the girl was just busy talking to the other dark-skinned girls. “But never stops to flirt with Sam over there, or even kissing Kiara that one time. One day, Avery, one day.”

Avery could only laugh at his friend before heading towards the other males of the group, who sat in the sand. Even though he fit in more with the girls, he still wanted to take pictures with them. To put the memories in concrete; to solidify it. Avery put his hand on the one male without glasses and started to tug on him.

“Come on Tom, you need to take pictures with your girlfriend,” Avery urged. Then he promptly called over Sam a few times who jumped and looked over at the two. Her beaming smile and wavy hair caused Tom to smile back, the feeling of bubbles, like her personality, rising in his chest. Then Avery walked in front of the other two males.

“Elijah!”

The oldest of the group shook his head as if he was taken out of his thoughts “Huh?! What? What’s up?” Elijah made eye contact with Avery who only gestured towards the rest of their friends. “Oh, right, come on Harry let’s go.” Elijah set his hand on the boy’s shoulder next to him and the two promptly got up to join the rest of the group.

The shared moments between the new high school graduates was a highlight for all of them. It’d be one of their last few moments before college hit. They all knew it, and the painful thought that they’d all slowly stop being friends was etched in the back of all of their heads. But that didn’t stop them from laughing, from having fun. Especially as teenagers. Occasionally getting in trouble, getting caught up in teenage drama and angst. They couldn’t do much besides live. With all the near catastrophic events happening in almost the last decade, the teenagers made sure they could live to the best that life let them.

The last sliver of the sun began to fade into the water. The teenagers stood at the edge of the pier watching it after a few games and eating a small dinner watching the sun say its goodbyes. They were cracking jokes with one another as the ocean waves hit the legs of the pier. Once the sun disappeared and all they could see was hues of bits of yellow, orange, pink, purple, and then the night sky, they took that as a cue to head off for home.

Violet shot towards one of their two cars they drove in to get to the beach, quickly calling shotgun. Harry, Elijah, and Kiara followed behind as they entered the car. Harry being the designated driver. Next to them, they could see Avery asking Serina to drive for a bit since he was tired. It was evident that Serina’s voice was coming out rushed and high-pitched but she quickly gave in. Avery smiled, thanked her, then danced over towards the passenger seat.

Serina waited for Harry to back out first then continued to follow him from behind. Avery popped in Kpop into the stereo and Tom argued against it, claiming it’d get stuck in his head for the rest of the night. But Serina was too focused on the road to deal with them arguing for what kind of music to be played (with the few innuendos Sam kept making).

“Sam, stop!” Serina shouted jokingly. But instead of being greeted by Sam making another one of her sexual remarks, she just heard Tom freaking out.

“Tom?” Avery turned around to see what was going on. “What’s wr-…” And stillness filled the car. Serina glanced to the side and in the rearview window and her eyes widened at the fact that her friends disappeared. She wanted to freak out, she wanted to scream and figure out what was going on but her other friend’s car in front of her veered off to the side and crashed into a light pole, hard. Serina shoved her foot on the breaks and quickly looked at her side mirror to see if she could get out of the car to check on her other friends. She was lucky, it seemed as if there were no other cars on the road.

The fear that her other friends might’ve disappeared, or could be dead from the crash was all that raced in her mind as one foot went in front of the other towards the car. The windows were tinted black and she knew it’d most likely be locked but her hand reached towards the handle and it opened. But there was no one in the driver’s seat and no one in the back seats. Just Violet, with her head against the cracked window, eyes shut, and blood dripping down her head and forearms from the windshield breaking into the car.

“Holy fuck,” Serina whispered out.

***

Xandar was desolate and bleak. The planet was in mourning and the events that occurred weeks earlier would be forever etched into the history of the Xandarians. The Nova Corps that was settled on the planet was practically purged from the works of Thanos. Cries of loved ones still searching for their lost ones never stopped. There were few good stories that were told, loved ones appear out of nowhere and some even surviving the damage done on the planet.

Irani Rael sat on the top floor of the ruins of the Nova Corps headquarters. Her eyes held emptiness as she watched the planet before her still burning. She should be thankful that she was alive. But she wasn’t. God she wished she was dead. She wished she died with the other half of the Xandarians if it meant another civilian would be alive. But that’s what Thanos left her with. That was her curse to hold, to be the one alive and to be the ones to watch her people struggle.

There was nothing to be done, no one knew what to do. How were the Xandarians supposed to get back up after the destructive force of Thanos swept through them?

Few of them ran through the ruined planet, handing out supplies and spreading the word of shelters. Others kept smiles plastered on their face, to keep the optimism they sorely needed.

Rael knew of the stories. But she was never able to leave the ruins. Even when a few Xandarians tried to convince her to join them. She just wanted to rest, take a few moments; all the moments.

In the distance, a toppled building exploded, catching the blue eyes of Rael. Her brow furrowed and she slowly rose out of the seat. Her clothes were battered. Not like she could change into anything, this part of Xandar was destroyed after the fierce battle against Thanos and his Black Order. She could only wonder what the rest of the planet looked like.

She eyed specks of people rushing over towards the building. Most likely wanting to help those who may have been hurt. A small smile grew on her face, it was in moments like these that made her proud to be Xandarian. It was home to thousands of different species. And Xandar had been that type of planet for eons so it never mattered what one was born as. It was through those differences that united them and to see them still united as one to help others, it was a sight to behold.

A female dug through a pile of concrete even though the fire raged on. But her species allowed her to withstand thousand degree heat. So she worked through it as she found bodies, dead and alive, and handed them carefully to other helpers. Slowly, the fire began to die down and it wasn’t until hours later that they saw that the fire was gone and they rescued those who needed rescuing.

The female sat on the side of a destroyed road drinking out of a bottle, recovering from the work effort done.

It was calm, they all shared food, blankets, whatever they could.

“You know, the rest of Xandar could be in total and utter chaos,” a Krylorian said, his pink skin glowing as the fire in front of them kept them warm.

“Probably, but I’m glad I’m in this area,” a Xandarian native replied chugging another bottle of what was alcohol.

Another looked at her in disbelief, “You kidding me? After the shit Thanos did to all of us. No way, if I was in another area I’d try to help them out to bring order.”

The Xandarian shrugged, “We’re still lucky. Alive and well.” But they all took a moment and looked at their surroundings.

“At what cost?” Another asked. They stayed quiet for a few more moments, the night brought them a sort of chill.

“I just hope that the Guardians are able to stop Thanos,” a Centaurian spoke up. The others eyed the one who just talked wearily. It’s not that they were against what he suggested. Just that they wished the Guardians was there to save them in the first place. But they weren’t. And what could the small group do against him and his army? The Black Order would be able to stop them in one go.

No one else spoke, no one wanted to. The silence was comfortable. The heat radiating from the fire comforted them. The presence of those around them comforted them.

But the silence was broken by a gasp and someone wondering what was happening. The fire began to be covered up by the ashes. They all looked at one another, appalled at the sight before them. The gasps and the dreadful voices asking for help was all that was heard throughout Xandar. Each one of them scrambling for one another only to hold ashes in their hands.

The heat-resistant female clambered over towards what was left of the group, her mouth parted in distress.

No one else spoke, no one wanted to. The silence was no longer comfortable. The fire no longer radiated heat, it was buried in the ashes. The presence of those around them was no longer there. So what was the point?

***

The universe was quiet. The very moments after the unforgiving snap was eerily tranquil. As if the moment of silence was being taken earlier for the silent screams of those taken by the snap. The silent screams was only greeted by the mute horror of a now smaller universe. A universe that was in pain. Shockwaves of the snap would﹣will﹣continue for years to come. Lives lost after the snap from those in the middle of surgery, driving a car or ship, or even those who take their own life from the heartbreak of losing loved ones.

Yes, the universe was suffering. Resources would continue to be used up, but to what extent does this help? Without suffering, one cannot know what is good. One can create a world without war, without alcohol or drugs, without hate or jealousy, but then it wouldn’t be the world one lived in. Nothing would be learned, nothing would be gained. Species would have no motivation to advance, only to devolve. [1]

And so the universe only suffered more.

Then, there was you. [2]

a/n: READ #2 TRUST ME. This isn’t the normal fanfic (looool) with the Marvel Characters (ish) or even an OC/Reader insert. Kinda had an idea of what it’d be like to write about normal people of Earth. Then this came to mind. Also included a story on Xander and exploring the theory on whether or not the snap halves populations that’s already been halved by Thanos himself, which includes a small tidbit of what I think could have happened with Valkyrie and Korg!

[1] - This was a reference to the comics Avengers (2010) #12 when Tony wielded the gauntlet. It’s definitely something that’s been around on Tumblr but if you haven’t seen it you can find the comics online!

[2] - Way back when I posted this 2 years ago? i put out the suggestion to let people request if they wanted me to write their own oc into something like this or you or just something. i’m not doing that anymore. though i dont think anyone would want it since no one wanted one before LOL

#infinity war #marvel #avengers #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #valkyre #brunnhilde #war machine #gotg #james rhodes #gamora #loki #thor #a.writes

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oldsamshouseoffic · 6 years

Text

Southern Sun

Words: 7161

My very first modern AU.

Merry Kristannamas, @epbaker! Based on your recs you seem to appreciate a variety of AUs and character interpretations, so I tried to push out of my comfort zone. And boy, did I. It was meant to be a simple fluffy oneshot but, well, you can see it kind of got away from me and is now double the length I planned with oodles of family angst. I split it into four parts and the fluff doesn’t really start until Part III: Bribery. But they get there, they do get there.

I hope you enjoy my hot mess. It even follows the suggested theme...

To anyone with actual knowledge of Antarctic operations, my apologies in advance for the many, many inaccuracies.

Part I: Lousy Antarctica

Lousy Antarctica.

Anna Arendal threw her covers off and dragged herself to her feet, strangling a howl of frustration as she looked at the clock, her only reliable measure of time on this stupid continent. She opened the shutters, ignoring the recommended closure hours sensibly displayed across them in Norwegian, and let the bright daylight into her room. Her brain kind of knew the light was there anyway, even if she couldn't see it. It felt like daytime, twenty-four seven. And she had got used to it. Mostly. Normally. You couldn't be an intrepid polar researcher if you couldn't manage the weird hours- everyone knew that. But...

Lousy Kristoff.

Lousy storm.

Lousy dated, unreliable equipment, that falls apart if a teensy little gale force wind hits it.

Lousy... actually, this wasn't Elsa's fault at all, not this time.

Lousy Anna. Lousy Anna's lousy big mouth.

Lousy comms blackout, at the worst possible time.

She fell back on top of the mangled bed covers, the ambient chill than pervaded every inch of Troll Station even in summer creeping under her onesie and the pyjamas underneath that, at throat and wrist and ankle, setting her skin tingling. The chill cut through the fog of her insomniac funk, just a little.

It was all her fault. And Kristoff's. And the storm, obviously. And the midnight sun. But mainly hers.

She shouldn't have yelled at him. Kristoff was a big, oblivious... Kristoff, and she was expecting him to be a mind-reader. Of course he didn't get why she'd been pulling out her hair about a few days without Internet. She'd never explained about her family, after all. Not that he'd been very polite about it.

But then neither had Anna. Maybe it was guilt, the reason she was replaying their argument in her head over and over. Or maybe... maybe it was a sign of how few people she actually had, out here, on the underside of the world. How few friends to lose.

Lousy language barrier...

Antarctica is a post-state scientific utopia. In theory.

On December 1st, 1959, the twelve nations with active science bases on the frozen continent signed the Antarctic treaty, dedicating one of the great land masses of Earth to peace and scientific discovery. As of 2006, forty countries are signed up to the treaty and operate research bases and stations. More than forty are permanent, 12 months-per-year settlements, antennae and living pods linked together like moon bases, dozens more are small, summer outposts.

The biggest, McMurdo Station, is American. It is more like a town than an outpost, its population never dropping below two hundred even in the depths of the polar winter, and swelling to over a thousand in the summer research season. That was where Anna had spent her first season in the continent. So many fellow research biologists. So many penguins! She could literally walk to one of the Adélie colonies, except that she had promised never to do that again. Those darn pencil pushers...

This year was different. Particular research had to be collected from other parts of the continent, very specific, penguin-ey data which couldn't be gleaned from what other nations had shared. I can do that one, Anna had said, pointing to where Troll Station had been circled on the map. My parents spoke Norwegian. I'll fit right in...

“It'll be great!” Anna had insisted to Elsa. “No more of the big-base politics and bureaucracy and meetings... Ugh, so many meetings! All the nonsense there was around that congressional visit. None of which was my fault, by the way. Just real researchers, braving the frozen wilds for science!”

Elsa had looked uncertain; she hadn't said anything about how Anna was travelling to the other end of the planet again, and that it was different this time, they were different. But they'd promised to stay in contact- the base had a dish for Internet- and Anna had sworn she wouldn't let them drift apart a second time.

The journey back to the frozen continent had gone smoothly, considering how complicated it all was. Connecting flights down the length of the Americas, an overnight stay at an airfield in Argentina, and then a chartered plane had brought her back to McMurdo. She'd had enough time to say 'See ya later' to a couple of old friends before the equipment she'd need was collected and loaded onto yet another plane, which had carried her to the South Pole.

A pilot had greeted her on arrival, a sharp-featured older woman who had informed her in laboured English that she was to to fly her the rest of the way, and had seemed surprised but delighted when Anna answered her in Norwegian, even complementing her accent. She hadn't known she had an accent. Was that... actually a complement, though?

With an hour or two free once she'd made sure her luggage was safely transferred to the smaller cargo plane, and although she had already felt tired from the long hours in the air, Anna had still got out and walked around the Amundsen–Scott South Pole Station. Partly to stretch her legs, and partly because she was at the South Pole.

The South Pole... Wasn't that just crazy? Mother Earth's frosty little butt.

It hadn't even been all that cold, being the start of the Antarctic summer. Okay, pretty cold, maybe minus twenty, but she'd come straight from the first frosts of a New York winter and was wrapped up in the finest thermal gear government funding could buy, so she'd felt the sting on the exposed parts of her cheeks and that was about all.

There was... literally a pole there.

Right in front of the base. It was a goofy little thing- red and white striped with a shiny ball on top, sticking up absurdly from the packed white permafrost. To think so many men died to reach the site of some novelty lawn ornament...

She had taken a selfie with it, to send to Elsa as soon as she had Internet.

By the time the final leg had brought her to the little airfield alongside Troll Station, she had been awake for more than twenty hours, which had made it, according to the pilot, only mid morning by Central European Time. A massive man whose ginger muttonchops were sprinkled with white had been standing, waiting for her, by a red minibus fitted with massive winter tyres. Every vehicle in Antarctica looked like a scaled-up kids' toy. As it turned out that was the station director, Dr Kjøpmann, who insisted on Anna calling him Oaken with the same polite informality which proved to be the norm for... most of the station staff.

On the way from the airfield Oaken had launched into what could well have been the introductory spiel he gave every newcomer. Troll Station was established first by the Norwegians as a summer outpost, and only expanded into a permanent, year-round station in 2003. This was good news in a lot of ways- there were all the modern conveniences. A TV room. Even basic Wi-Fi- although he admitted it wasn't very reliable. A sauna- Anna had tried not to giggle at that. But of course there was a sauna...

And the base now had a wind turbine to generate part of its power. He sounded particularly proud of that. Then Anna remembered being told that a good portion of the Norwegian scientists at the base were environmental researchers. Sustainability was probably close to their hearts.

The base was not much to look at in itself- Antarctic stations never are. A handful of blocky prefabricated buildings, mostly bright red to stand out at a distance to anyone lost nearby, connected by tracks and walkways. What really stood out was that it was all built not on snow, but on bare rock. A huge rock formation rose out of the ice sheet, running up towards a collection of oddly shaped mountains in the near distance, and the Norwegians had planted their flag right on top of it. Oaken explained all this, adding that the mountains were the 'trolls' after which the station had been named.

By the time they had made it to the station, Anna had been half-awake, and they had installed her equipment in one of the lab buildings and installed Anna herself in an empty dormitory room as quickly as possible so she could sleep off some of her extreme jet lag, having gone from EST to New Zealand time then back to European time over the course of one trip.

Left alone to unpack and rest, she'd zipped open her case, changed into her pyjamas, pulled her favourite penguin onesie on over the top because she'd still felt the chill, then remembered just in time to text Elsa.

......

Did you arrive yet? x

Anna, please text me when you're safely there. You know I get jittery when you travel x

Arrived safely! ;)

Thank God. How is your Norwegian holding up?

Xxx

Okey dokey so far.

I'm so out of practice.

Elsa I need my sleep. So do you. It's 4am in NY.

Wait!

???

Forgot this. Lo, ye literal South Pole XD

This... is ridiculous x

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Don't let the bed bugs bite x

Have an adventure, Anna. Skype me. Love you x

Luv u xxx

......

Sisterly duty discharged, Anna had flipped the light switch and collapsed straight onto the bed, instantly asleep...

She'd been woken up again after only a couple of hours, but that was life, wasn't it?

Broken sleep was kind of part of working through the midnight sun, Anna considered, still staring at the ceiling of her room. Maybe they were all feeling a little edgy, shorter tempered...

After another twenty minutes replaying her good and bad choices with increasing frustration, Anna thought: To heck with it. Brooding was Elsa's thing- she was a problem solver.

Well, how to solve her problems, then?

Problem 1: Elsa. Couldn't do anything about her until the storm damage to the comms dish was fixed.

Problem 2: Kristoff.

Kristoff. Anna had the beginnings of a plan to repair that particular burned bridge. Hopping up, she pulled her boots, gloves and coat on over her night clothes. If she remembered the rota right, Olaf was on nights at the moment...

Olaf Snømann was in his element. Three quarters of the staff were asleep and the canteen block was empty, so he could use the kitchen without interruption. Strictly speaking, Troll Station having no official chef, meals were meant to be cooked by the researchers based on a rota, but Olaf often volunteered his down time to bake, mix, prepare. Partly because putting together a lovely stew relaxed him when he wasn't grappling with satellite data, and partly because if he didn't cook, someone else had to- and most of his colleagues struggled to empty a tin of herring onto a slice of bread. It certainly made him popular. Everyone wanted to be friends with the cook.

Of course, with the satellite down he had all the time in the world anyway.

The door swung open which a swish of frozen air which tickled Olaf's scalp through his thin, silver hair, and a lone figure waddled in, wrapped in a thick high vis coat. It wasn't time for the night shift to eat, but there was no mistaking his visitor anyway. Olaf stopped stirring the stew pot and hurried to shut the door as fast as his stumpy legs would allow as American Anna undid her jacket, yawning. Underneath she was dressed in the same bizarre one-piece hooded costume that she'd worn the first time they'd met, her wind-burnt face framed by ginger pigtails sticking out under a goofy plush penguin face...

She had only been at the base a couple of hours at that point, months ago, but according to her she had forgotten to turn off her phone alarm. Now, an early alarm in Latin America is past midday in Europe and, finding herself awake at lunch, she'd decided to brazen out her jet lag and try the canteen.

Everyone had introduced themselves, of course. And it had turned out the base rumour mill was, for once, true and she actually spoke Norwegian, although her accent was so strong Olaf couldn't believe she had ever left the United States before. Although Olaf's own spoken English was atrocious, so it was a relief to know they wouldn't have to rely on it.

In any case, she had sat down, bleary-eyed, clad in her novelty onesie, said thank you very politely for the smørbrød Olaf had placed before her, before devouring a good half of it with her hands- like a toddler. Eventually she'd gone pink in the cheeks, registering that people were staring, and picked up her knife and fork to finish. Someone had jokingly called her 'Pingu' and she'd looked at them blankly. Olaf had shooed them away and sat down to eat with her, feeling a little protective of this young, half-penguin researcher, with her feral American table manners, half asleep and wholly out of her element.

And she was fun, it turned out. A breath of fresh, crazy air. He'd not had a snowball fight in years before Anna had arrived...

Anna coughed, bringing Olaf's mind back to the present before he could .

“Hi Olaf. I'm sorry about the dish.”

He looked back at the pot. “What? Oh, the satellite dish.” He shrugged, smiling serenely. “These things happen. He glanced out one of the little porthole-like windows, sighed, and returned to stirring the pot. “This land is beautiful, powerful, dangerous... that is part of the wonder of it. A little damage, a little delay- it's nothing we can't fix.”

Anna inhaled sharply, wringing her hands. “Yeah... fixing things. About that. Could I ask you a really, really big favour?”

Part II: Penguin Girl

Kristoff shovelled snow.

The base had a snow plough, obviously, but the storm had done more than spread a few feet of powder over the roads. In the driving wind, tonnes had built up in dense drifts against the buildings, burying cables and equipment that had to be dug out by hand. And so, since Lars had called dibs on the plough and he wouldn't be driving Anna anywhere until comms were restored, Kristoff had picked up a shovel and offered a hand.

That was if Anna ever actually wanted to share a cab with him again. The thought that she might insist Oaken assign her one of the other techs bothered him in a way part of him found surprising. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd stopped being annoyed by the ginger menace and started...

He carried on shovelling. He'd been working at it steadily for a while now; Sápmi winters had trained him well and he kept up a clean, rhythmic technique, the exertion warming him against the burning cold of the Antarctic air, efficiently clearing the loose-packed snow into piles that could be swept off by vehicle. Initially the exercise had kept his head clear, stopped him from dwelling on the fight, but now specific impressions kept forcing their way back into his head.

Anna had been so unreasonably angry, Kristoff had thought, about losing Skype when the blackout left the base cut off from other stations if there were an actual emergency, and when the whole TrollSat team's actual jobs rested on the comms mast being fixed, and when actual international treaties existed around Norway sharing that satellite data. And he'd told her so, and he'd not really listened to her...

But now, now he remembered her hands, fidgeting, tying her braids in knots as she'd complained; the tension in her wide blue-green eyes, almost tearful, and that wasn't just Anna being her usual impatient, volatile self. Something had been very wrong, and Kristoff hadn't listened.

Now he was worried, and wondering if it was too late to fix... whatever they had. It wasn't like he could fix comms.

Kristoff remembered when he had first set eyes on her...

He'd been hearing the others gossip about Anna for a couple of days, the strange American penguin girl, but they'd kept missing each other, which suited him fine. 'Kind of hot', apparently, 'in a Pippi Långstrump sort of way'- he hadn't wanted to dwell on that particular disturbing mental image. All Kristoff had known was that some American government agency had cut a deal with some Norwegian government agency, which meant he now had to spend four days a week ferrying some stranger far overland to look at birds.

He had been checking over the snowcat when Anna and Oaken had come strolling up together. The Red Sven was a tracked polar specialist about the size of a tow truck, and the only vehicle they had with the necessary speed and range for Ms Arendal's outings. The director had simply handed Kristoff his revised work schedule and marched back to his office with a wave, leaving his more taciturn countryman to try and make conversation with the newcomer.

It had turned out that making conversation with Anna Arendal was mostly nodding and saying 'Huh'. Her Norwegian was better than he'd heard, although her accent was strong, going high and low in all the wrong places with heavy American 'R's. Still, words, mostly the correct ones, poured bubbling up out of this girl- sweet and effervescent and unrelentingly upbeat, like a human can of Sprite. Questions, follow-up questions, answers to questions he hadn't asked... maybe it was a nervous trait?. She had just arrived after all.

Their first trip had dispelled the theory that Anna only talked too much when she was nervous, as she'd quickly settled into a calm, collected routine of always thinking in her mouth.

Anna was in Troll Station because it was 'close' to penguin colonies she needed to observe and collect data from. However, Antarctica was a continent, and 'close' meant travelling hundreds of miles by snowcat as opposed to thousands by plane. Troll Station being the 'closest' to the colonies she needed to study meant that it was 'only' a three hour drive each way in fine weather, plus an hour or two of driving between the penguin nesting spots themselves. Plus waiting around for Anna to make observations and collect samples.

And through it all, Anna would talk...

Are we there yet?

No.

You don't say much, huh?

No.

…

If the rock rises through the ice around the station, is the ice thinner? Like, do we have to worry less about falling in cracks?

Actually, you'd think so, but no. The ice gets thick pretty quick as you move away from the Jutulsessen nunatak.

…

I've never observed an Emperor colony before. Most of the data I collected last year is from Macaronis, but we need to track the pollution effects on the other Antarctic species and form hypotheses about dietary factors, so... are you listening?

Um, sure.

…

Are you ever around in winter?

No, it's only really the satellite station team that are needed during the long night.

Twenty-four hours of night. That must suck.

Yes.

…

Are the nights very long where you come from?

Oh yes.

So, far in the North?

Sápmi.

Sorry?

Sápmi. You know, ugh, 'Lapland'?

Like Santa Claus?

...No, not like Santa Claus.

…

What's a Pingu?

…

It had been exhausting at first, chauffeuring their foreign guest from breeding site to breeding site. That first week, the idea of being grounded at Troll Station for a few days would have sounded like a holiday. So why, whatever he did, however much he tinkered with the vehicles in the garage, or cleared snow until his back and shoulders burned and his clothes and beard were dusted white... Why did the day feel so empty now?

He missed the easy smile, the fizzy energy that escaped in bursts of joy, or curiosity, or irritation. He somehow missed the constant barrage of words.

He missed Anna. At some point in all those long, long drives over the ice, she'd grown on him.

Like a terrorist and her hostage...

Part III: Bribery

The sun didn't set during December in Antarctica. But this far from the Pole it did skim lower in the sky for a few hours, swelling into a warmer golden light that smeared itself along the horizon like the glow of a distant fire. Kristoff liked to sit out and watch it sometimes, on his breaks or when there was no work for him. That was how Anna found him, sat on a box by the wall of the garage block and sipping steaming black coffee from a Thermos flask. Alone. Good.

He was looking away from her, scarf loose around his thick blond beard, woolly hat pulled down over his ears, rolling his broad shoulders gently as if working out the aches and pains of the day. Anna saw the shovel propped up against the wall next to him. Clearly Kristoff had been making himself a lot more useful than she had been, sulking in bed, and for a moment she hesitated to bother him.

No, shyness wasn't going to solve anything. If Kristoff didn't want to talk to Anna he could tell her. And the package in her hands wasn't getting any warmer.

“Anna?” She jumped.

“Oh, Kristoff...” Anna swallowed nervously. She'd been spotted, no point in trying to back out now. She stepped up to her colleague, her rehearsed apology completely evaporating from her mind. “So, I...” “I should apologise.”

“What? No! I should apologise.” Anna blinked in surprise. “I yelled at you.”

“I didn't listen to you.”

“No one listens to me!” Anna paused. “I talk too much I know it's a thing.” She held the bag in her hands out to him. “Peace offering. I didn't have time to wrap it.”

“For me?” Kristoff stared at the bag for a couple of heartbeats, then took it and sat back down on the box, shuffling over so Anna could join him. He lifted the box out of the bag, a large plastic tub she and Olaf had found in the kitchen, and...

As Kristoff cracked open the lid of the tub, the smell of sweet fried dough was detectable even in the icy midsummer air. He smiled. “Doughnuts. You got Olaf to make them again.”

“Yep.”

“Everyone has been badgering him to make more since... well, the last time. He said we had to wait for a special occasion.”

“I twisted his arm.”

“They're so good.”

“Yep.” Anna was giggling now. “And they're all yours. Tell no one, or the meteorological team will descend on you like vultures.”

Kristoff laughed, and Anna was finally starting to relax, relieved. “It's a strange world.”

Kristoff reached for a rucksack sitting on the snowy rock, and fiddled with fastenings. Thermal gloves made little things awkward. Eventually, mumbling an apology, he drew out a small package tied up in a cotton rag. “I didn't have time to wrap, either.”

Anna let him place the little parcel in her hands. “And it's not even Christmas yet.” As she pulled the cloth away she saw the gleam of coloured foil. Was it really...

“Chocolate!” Anna jumped up and down, clutching The Precious to her chest, then sat down self-consciously. “Wow, thanks. My stash lasted, like, a week. Not even that.”

She turned back to Kristoff. “I can't believe we both decided to bribe each other with sugar.”

“It's the drug of choice around here.”

“Like cigarettes in prison.”

“We should talk.”

“Yeah...”

“I promise to listen this time.”

It was far too cold to stay outside, so Kristoff led her into the garage. Soon they were sat together in the cab of Kristoff's snowcat, as they had on so many achingly cold, bright 'mornings' since Anna had arrived here.

Anna's chocolate was frozen solid- goodness knows where Kristoff had been hiding it, maybe buried somewhere safe from hungry researchers- so they shared Kristoff's doughnuts as Anna explained a little of her family situation.

How Elsa had increasingly isolated herself from everyone including, most hurtfully, her sister. How they hadn't realised how ill she was, not for years- Pappa hadn't really encouraged them to talk about it.

Eventually, in their twenties, after they had both made some questionable choices- Kristoff didn't need to hear about Anna’s jerkass of an ex just yet- things had reached a breaking point.

After a particularly severe crisis had landed Elsa in the ER, she was finally receiving the medical attention she should have been getting from the beginning. Encouraged by her therapists, she had reached out to Anna.

They were making progress, slowly learning to be sisters again. But things were still fragile between them. Anna could be thoughtless and short-tempered, Elsa was painfully sensitive and sometimes kind of paranoid... it was a volatile combination.

In their last Skype call before the storm had wrecked the mast Elsa had been smiling, proud of herself. She had gone to a Christmas party. Elsa. Elsa Arendal had gone to a party. And enjoyed herself. With people. And dancing.

Anna had asked her where the party had been. Elsa had prevaricated, but Anna had pressed the issue, knowing her sister didn't drink and the blush on her cheeks was not alcohol.

“It... was an office party.”

“Oh really... Whose?”

“Oh, whose office? A, um, friend.”

“A friend took you on a date, huh?”

“Well it doesn't have to be a date, necessarily.”

“Uh-huh...”

“Okay, it was. Maybe.”

“Ooh... Maybe I should check this guy out, ask him his intentions towards my sister. Or do I know him already? You don't meet that many people, no offence.”

“No, no.”

“You hesitated.”

“No, honestly, she's new in town... oh God.”

Kristoff looked wary. “And was that...”

Anna nearly spat out her doughnut. “Oh for God's sake Kristoff, I'm not a homophobe! I'm a scientist! It would be like... hating someone for their shoe size!”

Kristoff's nose scrunched up when he was thinking. It was kind of adorable- Wait, what?

“So, if you're not-”

“There's no if! Geez, one nightmare clown gets elected and everyone thinks the worst of us.”

“So what did you say?”

Anna face-palmed, groaning. “Nothing.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Nothing? You?”

“I panicked! Said some nonsense about having my lab tests to get back to...”

Anna found herself fidgeting with her hair again. “We're sisters, and I love her, but sometimes it seems like I hardly know anything about her. Elsa pulled away from me so hard all through our teens- I didn't know then about her mental health, I just thought there was something wrong with me, maybe. And it just got worse after Mamma and Pappa passed. We've only really reconnected in the last year after she started getting therapy and meds, and so much is still uncharted territory between us.

There should have been sleepovers and girls' nights in and blanket forts where we talked about our crushes and shared our darkest secrets. But there was none of that. Just a locked bedroom door I passed on my way to the stairs. And being reminded of that made me feel like the lousiest sister in the world all over again.”

She pulled her legs up to her body, hugging her knees. “And you know, I am.”

Anna put her hand up to stay Kristoff's well-meaning protests.

“No, really. I made it about me. I got all weird and made excuses so I'd have time to feel comfortable. I was so scared of saying the wrong thing I said nothing! The one time I didn't talk when I actually should have...

I should have told her that it was okay. I shouldn't have signed off before I was sure she believed that. Elsa never finds it easy to tell me anything. Her issues make her so scared all the time, make her expect the worst. But she's been trying so hard. She's been getting better...”

Anna buried her face in her hands. “But that was when we lost Internet! And phones! Everything! Like, ten minutes later, back at the lab I had started to worry and wanted to send her a quick message, something supportive, even just a stupid little “Luv u Elsa xxx”...

...But no signal. Blackout! So now my only sister's back stateside thinking I freaked out and ghosted her, probably deciding to cut me out of her life for good this time. Or worse, having another breakdown... because of me...”

Kristoff wasn't the most demonstrative guy Anna had ever met, so she was surprised when he shifted the remaining doughnuts to one side and wrapped her in a tight hug.

It was nice, though. It was really nice, even with the gearshift pressing into her hip. She felt adrift in nightmarish uncertainty, no clue what Elsa was doing, no way to fix it, and the feeling of his arms encircling her, thick and strong as tree trunks, was kind of grounding. He was so calm and still most of the time, it was easy to forget how big he was. Two Annas big. Like a bear. A brawny Norwegian bear man. She couldn't really feel the warmth of him through the layers of insulating clothing they both wore, but... why was she thinking about that?

“Anna, listen to me. The dish will be fixed before you know it. You will call your sister, or Skype or whatever you want. You will tell her exactly what you told me, and she will understand and she will love you. We will carry on collecting data, data and poop alike, I will make you watch Pingu in the TV room so you understand the joke, and everything- that means everything- will be alright. Okay?”

Anna nodded. Something about the sheer, solid presence of Kristoff made it easier to believe his words, to expect good things, as she mumbled his words back to him. “Everything will be alright.”

“That's right.”

They met again the next evening, in the same spot- where Kristoff waited in the freezing wind with a sheepish grin and enough coffee for them both. Anna's chocolate had had time to thaw out and was no longer like trying to bite into a slab of glass, so they took their eating caffeine and drinking caffeine into the garage workshop. Kristoff must have known it would be empty.

“I should explain my behaviour,” Kristoff announced out of nowhere.

Anna put her plastic mug down on the crate that Kristoff had dragged over between their stools to make them a table, with that effortless strength of his. “No offense, but you need to narrow that down.”

“I can often be too...” Kristoff trailed off, his brow furrowing under his woolly hat.

“Laconic?”

He grunted. “Actually, yes. My family are a bit overpowering. It would make sense if you could meet them.”

Anna leaned in, curious. “Your family?”

She'd never thought about him as a family person. But then she'd never asked. Had she really been so self-centred?

“Well, adoptive family. My brother, that's my... hold on.”

Kristoff reached into his coat to retrieve one of the indestructible phones the Norwegian teams were issued with and flicked through a couple of screens, before turning it over to her. It showed a photo of two young men dressed in colourful woollen clothes, smiling and hugging each other while one held up the camera. It took a moment to realise which one was Kristoff- he looked different without the thick beard he'd been wearing since she had arrived.

“My only blood relation. Sven and I lost our folks when we were very little. Then we were adopted by new parents. There were ten of us, altogether, growing up right at the furthest frozen edge of the north of Europe.”

“Ten?” Anna gawked. One sibling had been complicated growing up- seven seemed like, well a zoo.

Kristoff chuckled at the face she was making. “Pappa said it kept the house warm. It was crowded. I never had much time to myself as a boy, except when I was out on the ice. At home, there was always someone talking to me, dragging me off to join in with something. Sometimes there would be songs, all through our little house, just because someone felt like singing and then Mamma joined in, then everyone else joined in...”

“They sound wonderful,” Anna blurted out, before she could stop herself. Compared to the years of her parents always being busy with the company, and Elsa ghosting her- not that they'd known why at the time...

Kristoff snorted. “They are. But also loud, and excitable, and overbearing, and kinda never shut up. I miss them, but at the same time I need to get away for some of the year.”

At that, Anna felt something implode slightly inside of her, a feeling she couldn't exactly account for, but she didn't want to ruin their second actual proper conversation, so she tried to grin and make a joke of it.

“So, you come all the way to the bottom of the world for some peace and quiet, and instead you're driving me two hundred clicks to collect penguin poop, while I talk, and talk, and talk your ear off the whole way? Tough break. Wow.”

Kristoff looked up at her and shook his head. “The whole drive back, too. But that's not quite what I meant. I should relate to people. It is part of life, I want to. But I guess my family has left me too... passive. You come to me, and you sit and talk and I let you, like you're one of my kid sisters. But you are not. I am not home, letting the noise wash over me, where my family know what I feel even if I do not show it. I am here, and you are my... friend, and I should talk to you, let you know that your company is valued.”

Anna wasn't expecting the sudden turn, and the sad look in Kristoff's eyes and the hesitant way he said 'friend', like it was a question, had her head spinning in odd ways. “That's well, I mean, not that- Do you? Value it? My company? I value yours. I think I took that for granted before our fight, which is a thing I do and- sorry.”

Kristoff nodded, radiating sincerity. “I do, Anna.” He held out his gloved hand across the crate, mashing the empty chocolate foil, and Anna took it and held it. “We're all the way out here in fourteen million square kilometres of ice and frozen rock, and only a few thousand complete madmen-”

“And madwomen!”

Kristoff laughed. “-To share it with. It's good we have each other, don't you think?”

Anna squeezed his hand. “Yeah.”

“I have good news.”

“Oh! Hi...” Anna looked up from her breakfast to see Kristoff awkwardly hovering. Checking the hood of her onesie to make sure it hid her bed hair, she wondered for a second why he was looking so uncomfortable if he had good news... before she realised he was just waiting for an invitation. “Sit, sit, come on Kristoff! Tell me.”

Kristoff joined her at the table, grasping a mug of that now familiar thick black coffee. She wondered if he drank it instead of sleeping- he was certainly up at all hours.

“The repairs to the satellite system are almost complete.”

Anna's face lit up. “That's amazing! How long...”

“They'll be able to reintegrate with the satellite and start relaying data back to Europe tomorrow morning.”

“And Internet? Phones?”

Kristoff scratched his beard. “That will take another day or two. Oaken wants to make sure we have everything straightened out before we bring back non-emergency comms, so no Wi-Fi.”

Anna's heart sank.

“But...” Kristoff smiled. “Oaken's office has a direct broadband connection, which will be back straight away, and I told him you had a family emergency and, well, he's really a good boss.”

“Wait, what did you tell him?” Anna's eyes widened.

“Oh, no details, only that you needed to contact your sister urgently. He may or may not think that she's dying.” Kristoff shrugged. “The advantage of not asking for anything for five years is, when you do, people take it very seriously. Just talk to Oaken and arrange when it would be best to use his office tomorrow-”

Kristoff wasn't that surprised when Anna leaped up and threw her arms around his neck in thanks. She was a pretty excitable person. The kiss she pressed into his cheek before she rushed out of the canteen, on the other hand...

He sat still where he was for a moment, just processing. The other driver, Lars, took a seat beside him.

“So, you and Happy Feet, right?”

“Lars, no!” Kristoff hesitated, willing himself not to let his blush rise above the beard line. “I don't know. Maybe.”

Lars snorted with laughter. “Kristoff, you hopeless young idiot. It'll be Christmas eve on Monday. Invite her to the party. A little festive cheer, a little lutefisk, a lot of Oaken's akevitt...”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, undeterred by Kristoff's stony silence. “She is the first new person I have seen you happily interact with since... I don't even know. You're at the damn South Pole, do you think you're holding out for someone better?”

“No! Anna's great, really great, she...” Kristoff caught himself. “Oh, I see you.”

“Because if there were someone better, sorry, but she wouldn't date you. You're reaching as it is.”

Kristoff got up, zipping his coat. “I'm leaving now.”

As he walked to the door Lars called after him. “Go, follow the beautiful penguin girl... Confess your true feelings...”

“See you around, Lars.”

Part IV: Julaften

“But he gave you chocolates?”

“Chocolate, Elsa. Chocolate. As in a candy bar. We had an argument...”

“And he didn't have flowers?”

“Hilarious. Kristoff's just a guy I know.”

“Who went out of his way to help get us back in contact. And gave you chocolate, and you spend all day with him. I'm just looking at the facts- he's basically your snow husband.”

“Stooop... A couple of dates and suddenly you're the love expert.”

“'Love' expert? Ha! A confession.”

“I could sign off right now...”

“Wait, Anna. Listen, listen, I'm being serious. You should see the way your eyes soften when you just say his name. Anna, this is me, of all people, telling you to take a chance... Why not just catch him under the mistletoe, see what happens?”

“Elsa, they don't do that in Norway. I think. We don't have mistletoe, anyway. Even if...”

Anna stared at the akevitt in the bottom of her glass, reflecting on her most recent Skype with Elsa. After the initial awkwardness of clearing up misunderstandings- it had turned out Elsa had sent about twenty panic texts and Anna had solemnly sworn to delete all of them unopened once they arrived- their conversation had turned with surprising ease to the warmer, more familial awkwardness of being interrogated about her love life. Not that she actually had a-

The door to the TV room opened, and Kristoff joined her in the hall, rosy cheeked with Christmas spirit and also probably from the rich, dark Christmas ale half-filling his cup. It was not to her taste, but by the rate it was disappearing it clearly suited some of their colleagues. “Not enjoying the film?”

"Three Wishes for Cinderella? They show it every year." Kristoff shrugged.

“Give me It's a Wonderful Life any day.” Anna sipped her drink. “Shall we go out and say hello to the doggie?”

Kristoff tried to frown, but it wasn't working. “It's a goat. A Yule Goat. They're meant to be made out of straw, but Gerda and Lars only had bits of crate to hammer together, which is why it's so...”

Anna grinned. “So... what?”

“So like a robot dog.” Kristoff sighed in surrender. “Sure, let's take a walk.”

A few minutes later, wrapped up warmly, they stood at the centre of the base trying hard to admire what Kristoff's colleagues had constructed. They would not be winning any art prizes.

“So, how's it a goat?”

Kristoff pointed up at some of the messier parts of the beast. “The bent-over parts are meant to be horns.”

“Really? Not ears?”

“Be nice. It would probably look more impressive at night.”

Anna rolled her eyes, giggling. “Sure, at night. Let's just wait a few months.”

Kristoff crossed his arms and pretended to sulk. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh at our ancient traditions. What do you do for Christmas?”

Anna grinned, stepping closer to him. “Give each other gifts...”

“Yeah, we already did that, and I'm out of chocolate.”

She looked up at his face, all bemused patience, eyes dancing. “Eat turkey...”

“Good luck with that. I'm not driving you to the nearest supermarket.”

“Where is that?”

“Cape Town. I hope you can swim.”

“Okay, okay,” Anna laughed, her gloved fingers trailing down the front of Kristoff's jacket. His brown eyes were as dark and heady as the ale he drank. “Well, there is mistletoe. You know how that works?”

“We have Hollywood. But if an American really wants to kiss someone why not just-”

“Yeah, why not?”

The kiss was brief- almost a collision- as Anna grabbed Kristoff's head in both hands and pulled him down, springing up on her toes to meet him halfway. Then she let go and staggered back a few feet.

Yep, she’d actually done that.

Kristoff was bright pink. “Anna...”

“You can't blame me!” Anna yelped. “I'm drunk and I have terrible impulse control!”

Kristoff burst out laughing, which Anna decided could either be good or really, really bad.

“Kristoff?”

That was when he kissed her back. Slow and loving and tender, and the alcohol in her veins could not compete with how that touch warmed her.

What was that bleeping?

Pulling away slightly, Kristoff pulled his phone out of his back pocket. His smile broadened.

“Midnight.”

Anna looked at the bright sunlight gleaming off the ear-horns of the Yule plank-monster. The sun was low over the mountains in the distance, gleaming off the ice flats... “Amazing.”

“Merry Christmas, Anna.”

#kristanna #anna #Kristoff #modern au #kakij2018

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sciencespies · 3 years

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Our galaxy has a shocking array of really weird stars. Here's your ultimate guide

https://sciencespies.com/space/our-galaxy-has-a-shocking-array-of-really-weird-stars-heres-your-ultimate-guide/

Our galaxy has a shocking array of really weird stars. Here's your ultimate guide

You know how stars do. They’re out there, doing their thing, fusing a whole bunch of hydrogen into helium, shining up the joint.

But some stars are just a little bit different from the norm. Not content with simply lighting up the night sky like a giant disco, they zoom, shimmer, dim and even hang around seeming to be older than the actual Universe. These are our galaxy’s oddballs, and we love each and every one.

Need for speed: PSR J0002+6216

(J. English/University of Manitoba/NRAO/F. Schinzel et al./DRAO/Canadian Galactic Plane Survey/NASA/IRAS)

We’re not sure where the star named PSR J0002+6216 is headed, but we know it’s heading there fast. It’s travelling at the absolutely breakneck speed of 1,130 kilometres per second (700 miles per second). That could take it from Earth to the Moon in six minutes.

It’s one of the fastest stars we’ve ever seen.

There are a few of these runaway “hypervelocity” stars in the Milky Way, but few with origins as clear as J0002. It’s a pulsar, a type of rapidly rotating neutron star – the collapsed core of a massive star after it has gone supernova.

It was ejected from the expanding cloud of a recent supernova explosion, leaving a trail behind after it punched through the explosion’s outer shell of debris. The supernova was so powerful it kicked out the star and sent it careening through the galaxy.

Red and dead: RX J0806.4-4123 (815 light-years)

(Nahks Tr’Ehnl, Penn State)

Pulsar RX J0806.4-4123 – another dead star – has been observed emitting infrared radiation over long distances. By itself, that’s not so unusual – but RX J0806.4-4123’s extended emission is only infrared. That’s never been seen before; usually we see pulsars through X-ray and radio emissions.

“We observed an extended area of infrared emissions around this neutron star … the total size of which translates into about 200 astronomical units (or 2.5 times the orbit of Pluto around the Sun) at the assumed distance of the pulsar.”

There are two possible explanations: a fallback disc of material that coalesced around the star after the supernova – basically the dead star’s own material, interfering with its typical emissions. This could have implications for our understanding of neutron star evolution.

Or it could be a pulsar wind nebula, created when a powerful wind from a pulsar blows back the material left over from the star’s explosion, hollowing out a cavity in the nebula. But these are usually seen in the X-ray spectrum. An infrared-only pulsar wind nebula would be a new and exciting discovery indeed.

Mutually assured destruction: Apep

(ESO/Callingham et al.)

In 2018, hidden away in a sinuous cloud of glowing dust, astronomers found something amazing: a binary star called Apep that’s right on the verge of a spectacular supernova. And when it goes, there’s a good chance it will spew out a gamma-ray burst, releasing more energy in 10 seconds than the Sun could in 10 billion years.

Never before have we observed a gamma-ray burst in the Milky Way.

The two stars are unusual, too – Wolf-Rayet stars. These are very hot, very luminous, very old stars that typically have at least 25 times the mass of the Sun, which they lose at a tremendous rate. Because this stage of a star’s life is so short, we don’t see many of them at all.

As the two stars orbit each other, they churn the mass they’re shedding into a spiral shape, much like a lawn sprinkler, creating a rare type of nebula called a pinwheel.

The Ancient One: HD 140283

(Digitized Sky Survey (DSS), STScI/AURA, Palomar/Caltech, and UKSTU/AAO)

HD 140283 is a very peculiar star indeed. It’s old – super old. As in, beginning of the Universe old. That’s not terribly uncommon; the Milky Way is speckled with old stars here and there. But none of those others seem to be older than the Universe itself.

HD 140283 – AKA the Methuselah star – does. The Universe is around 13.8 billion years old. Based on Hubble measurements of its brightness in 2013, HD 140283 appeared to be around 14.5 billion years old.

Look, there was a margin for error of 800 million years – which means, even according to those calculations, it could easily still be younger than the Universe. And it would actually have to be, unless our understanding of the Universe is wrong.

The Alien Megastructure: Tabby’s Star

(NASA/JPL-Caltech)

The hype has died down now, but we don’t think we’ll ever stop being deeply curious about the secrets of KIC 8462852, AKA Tabby’s Star. Discovered by astronomer Tabetha Boyajian of Yale University, it showed some really unusual behaviour of brightening and dimming.

The fluctuations are not of the regular kind you’d expect from orbiting planets, or a variable star. It’s seemingly random, with bright and dim periods lasting for arbitrary amounts of time, and it darkens by as much as 22 percent.

Some wavelengths are blocked more than others – which rules out an “alien megastructure” such as a Dyson sphere; also, it’s too old to still have enough of a protoplanetary disc remaining to cause that level of light blockage.

Other theories include a ringed planet passing in front of the star, either absolutely enormous or a smaller one with an orbital wobble; a swarm of comets; space junk; the star swallowing a planet; something happening inside the star itself; and the scientific equivalent of a shrug emoji.

The most likely culprit is some sort of dust, and a heckton of it, but it’s also possible we’ll never really know. ¯_(ツ)_/¯

The Giant Wotsit: EPIC 204376071

(GrandpaFluffyClouds/reddit)

If you thought KIC 8462852 was fascinating, wait until you hear about EPIC 204376071. In 2019, astronomers reported that something blocked the light of this star – a mere 440 light-years away – by up to 80 percent for an entire day.

It dimmed quite suddenly, hit that peak of 80 percent and then brightened again more slowly, probably because something was passing in front of it. But what?

The closest match for the light curve would be a tilted ring system orbiting the star; it would have to be very large however, and the model didn’t exactly fit – it required a tighter orbit than was possible based on the 160-day observation period.

Astronomers are taking more measurements of the star to try and figure out if something is orbiting it, so we just have to sit tight for now. The suspense is killing us!

Slow and Heavy: HD 101065

Now, this star is just an absolute legend of weirdness. It’s called HD 101065, or Przybylski’s Star, and nothing about it is really normal. It belongs to a class called rapidly oscillating Ap stars. That means it’s a subtype of the chemically weird Ap star class (the p stands for ‘peculiar’) whose light pulsates very quickly.

Yet the star itself has a very slow rotation: HD 101065 rotates just once every 188 years. That could be due to unusual chemistry, as Ap stars tend to have. Except HD 101065 has a chemistry like no other Ap star.

It has low amounts of iron and nickel, but high amounts of heavy elements such as strontium, caesium, uranium and neodymium. In addition, it seems to have a high level of elements called actinides – the only star in which they’ve been found.

These are the heavy elements with atomic numbers from 89 through 103, from actinium through lawrencium, all of which are radioactive. They appear in HD 101065 as short-lived radioactive isotopes – which is pretty baffling, since their short half-life means they should be long gone.

The best explanation is that these actinides are the decayed form of as-yet unknown and long-sought super-heavy elements hypothesised to exist somewhere out there in the Universe. Whoa.

The Magnetic Zombie: XTE J1810-197

Magnetars are some of the strangest dead stars out there, and XTE J1810-197 is pretty much the strangest of them all. They’re neutron stars that, somehow, have incredibly intense magnetic fields, around a quadrillion times stronger than Earth’s.

XTE J1810-197 is one of just four of the 23 known magnetars that emit radio waves, and it was doing this pretty reliably up until about 2008. Then it went absolutely radio silent – until December of 2018, when its radio activity started up again.

But something was different. The activity was less dramatic, the pulse profile more subdued, with millisecond-scale oscillations that could potentially be related to surface waves in the stellar crust as the magnetic field shifts.

We still don’t understand these strange beasts of stars, but continuing to monitor XTE J1810-197 could pony up a few clues.

The Star that Shouldn’t Exist: Swift J0243.6+6124

youtube

OK, so neutron stars are just pretty weird. Swift J0243.6+6124 is another one, and gosh is it ever a puzzle.

It’s been accreting matter from a nearby binary companion, and spewing out something called relativistic jets. These are not uncommon for neutron stars, as well as active black holes – high-speed jets of plasma, shooting out from the neutron star or black hole perpendicular to the accretion disc.

Scientists don’t know the precise mechanism behind jet production. They think material from the innermost rim of the accretion disc is funnelled along magnetic field lines, which act as a synchrotron to accelerate the particles before launching them at tremendous velocities.

The problem with Swift J0243.6+6124 is that it has an unusually strong magnetic field for a neutron star. Previously, jets had only been observed in neutron stars with weak magnetic fields, leading to a hypothesis that magnetic fields could constrain them.

Swift J0243.6+6124 puts paid to that. But it also provides a new source for testing how magnetic fields affect the launching of jets, so that’s pretty neat.

Blowin’ in the Wind: Mira

(NASA/JPL-Caltech/C. Martin, Caltech/M. Seibert, OCIW)

Mira is dying. One part of it, Mira A, once bright like the Sun, is a red giant now, shucking off its outer layers over time, its light brightening and dimming, with a regular 11-month cycle. It’s only visible to the naked eye as part of the constellation Cetus for one month in that cycle.

It has a binary companion, Mira B, a dead star called a white dwarf – the evolutionary end-point of stars not massive enough to collapse into a neutron star. This white dwarf is accreting the matter being shucked off by Mira A – and, fascinatingly, this seems to be starting to form a protoplanetary disc, previously only thought possible with very young stars.

Baby planets forming around a dead star – how poetic. There’s a science fiction novel in that.

As the entire system moves across the night sky, it is leaving a trail of shed material in its wake. This ‘tail’ looks a bit like a comet – if a comet could trail material 13 light-years behind it.

It’s one of the most amazing things in a sky full of amazing things.

A version of this article was originally published in June 2019.

#Space

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thathopelessromantic · 6 years

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pink for remembrance

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Gen Relationship: Coran & Lance, Coran & Allura, Coran & his (late) son Note: I named Coran's son "Raible," after Coran's counterpart in the Beast King GoLion series but Raible does have (or I supposed had) a son named Roland in the series ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. A part of my Growing Up series but can be read alone

"On Altea, we wear this color to honor our fallen warriors."

But when colors aren't enough, there are pictures. And there are those left behind.

AO3: X

The paladins tended to avoid wandering around the castle ship, despite making it their home for as long as they had. There was some residual fear left over from the time the ship went haywire and tried to kill most of them in some way or another. But mostly, there was something eerie about moving through the empty halls. Especially at night, or the closest thing to night they experienced out in space, the hallways felt as if they were filled with another presence that seemed to fade in and out of their dimension. Like ghosts.

But the longer they were out in space, the longer the war went on, the harder it became to sleep through the night.

Lance had returned from a mission with Pidge strung out and looking for something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. So, he found himself spending the following days catching short naps whenever the exhaustion lulled him to sleep and the nights mapping out parts unventured in the castle.

Most of the rooms he came across were empty dorms like the ones they occupied or rooms stuffed with furniture and knickknacks covered in yellowed cloths and thick dust. So, the large, rounded room with a dark, ornate pink rug down the center of the room was a surprise to stumble upon. Soft lights were already lit when Lance stepped through the doors, revealing not only how well cared for the room was, but also Coran’s form standing off to the side, staring up at the wall.

Pictures covered almost every inch of the walls. Unlike the projections or holograms that made up most of the images the Alteans used or taught the paladins to use, the framed pictures of the rounded room resembled Earth’s photographs and paintings. The pictures near Lance were of Alteans Lance had never seen before, dressed in a variety of fashions that looked…well alien. But as he moved closer to Coran, he began to recognize the figures in the pictures as Alfor and the other Voltron Paladins and the people closest to them. There was even a picture of the Voltron Lions, just finished, if not still in the final stages of production.

One of the last pictures hung depicted a younger Coran, flanked on either side by a child. If they were humans, Lance would have guessed both of the kids to be around ten or eleven, but he was less confident about guessing an Altean’s age. To Coran’s left was obviously little Allura. But on Coran’s other side was a boy Lance had never seen before. With bright orange hair.

“Hello, Number Three,” Coran said softly, inclining his head towards Lance.

Lance startled, not aware that Coran had noticed his presence. He smiled awkwardly. “Hi. Sorry to sneak up on you,”

Coran sighed softly. “I imagined you would come across this room sooner or later.”

“Ah, so you knew? About the…exploring?” Lance asked, but Coran didn’t give much of an answer. Lance followed his gaze back to the picture. “That’s a good picture of you guys.”

A ghost of a smile flittered across his expression. “Yes, we were quite a dashing trio, weren’t we? It was for the princess’s birthday. She was just turning ten.”

“What…what about the little boy?”

Coran closed his eyes, as if steeling himself before answering, and Lance immediately regretted asking the question. He was about to take it back, insist Coran did not have to answer, when Coran opened his eyes again.

“Raible was still nine. He was a few phoebs younger than Allura. They used to argue about that age difference constantly.”

Unbidden, Lance remembered the makeshift birthday party they threw for Allura not long ago. “So,”

Coran nodded. “Today would be his birthday. Ten thousand and twenty-one deca-phoebs. If he was still alive, of course.”

Lance wasn’t sure what he could do to ease the obvious pain the normally dramatic advisor was experiencing. Reaching out, he placed a hand on Coran’s shoulder, wincing when he jumped under the touch. Lance started to pull away, but Coran lifted a hand to squeeze his own.

“Thank you, Number Three.”

“Would…Could you tell me about him?” Lance asked quietly.

Coran finally turned away from the picture to face Lance, and it was obvious from the wetness of his eyes and the red of his face that he had been crying. Lance wasn’t sure how long, but the thought hurt something inside him anyways.

“What would you like to know?”

Lance blinked back his own tears, ignoring how they stung his eyes. “His name was Raible?”

“Yes, for his grandfather, for my…for my father.” Coran laughed softly. “He wasn’t happy about that when he was young either. He was born too late, his name too old-fashioned.”

“What was he like?”

Coran was quiet for a moment. “He was…a little like you, actually.”

Lance pushed past the tightness in his throat to wink at Coran. “So, devastatingly handsome and talented?”

Coran’s expression softened, his eyes crinkled with a smile. “Of course. But he had more of a temper. I used to blame his mother for that one…but I admit I’m not totally innocent of it either. We use to fight often. About his hair and his clothes. About what was an appropriate way to address the princess, even if she was his friend. He joined the fight against Zarkon back then, and we fought about that too.”

Lance was sure he didn’t imagine the waiver in Coran’s voice when Zarkon came up. “…You didn’t want him to fight?”

Coran shook his head. “He wanted to serve his king, his kingdom, his planet, that I understood. But at the time, I truly believed in King Alfor and the rest of the paladins of Voltron’s abilities. I believed they would defeat Zarkon and everything would be fine,” He took a shaky breath. “And he said to me, ‘Father, if everything will be fine, what is there for you to worry about?’ How could I argue with that?”

Lance didn’t have the words to make it better, but he pulled Coran into a hug, hoping, if only for a moment, he could make him feel less alone. Coran’s arms settled around him and tears wet his shoulder.

He was sure how long they stood there before the door opened again. Allura’s quiet “oh” broke the silence when she saw them.

Coran broke the hug first, wiping his face as he turned to face her. “Good evening, Princess.”

Lance wiped his own face as Allura stared at Coran. A blanket was draped around her shoulders and her hair was pulled back in a half-hearted ponytail. If she had been sleeping before she joined them, it didn’t look as if it had been a restful night.

“Oh Coran,” she sighed before crossing the room in wide strides. She threw her arms around him, cocooning them both in her blanket as she sagged against him.

Coran pressed a kiss to the side of her head as he held her. “I know…Allura, I know.”

“I’m sorry, sorry to be such a mess,” she whispered.

Coran shook his head, holding her even closer. “He deserves more than just me to mourn and remember him. I am happy to be able to share his memory with you.”

Lance slipped out the door again as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb their moment. He knew the two were constantly dealing with a kind of loss that none of the other paladins could understand and now especially they deserved a moment to mourn.

The last thing he saw before the door closed again was Coran’s face and his melancholy smile as he mouthed something to him.

“Thank you.”

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lookatthisdork · 7 years

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Meditations of Jason Todd (Draft)

In the spirit of NaNoWriMo, I’ve made several attempts at drafting different fic ideas, which inevitably meant blocks of Batfam fanfic drabbles that don’t have any coherent plot, flow or continuity. They’re all basically unfit for internet consumption right now, except for this first attempt at writing in Jason’s voice.

(Um, I’m still reading Pre-Crisis and 90s comics in my free-time, so the only canon Red Hood I have is his single animated movie. Since this is set significantly after that in his character arc, I’m not super confident when writing him. I have a problem writing characters I haven’t read the canon for, honestly.)

The problem with trading and selling drugs in a city like Gotham is that no matter how careful you were with recruitment, no matter how high your people’s morale and loyalty, you inevitably have to get your hands dirty to keep the money flowing. There are always incentives for both defectors and saboteurs to take pot shots at your stake. Offing a boss could mean a bigger piece of the pie for yourself, better job security (in the short-term, if your employment was tenuous), averting your boss throwing you under the bus for a job gone wrong. If the guy up top doesn’t maintain an aura of invulnerability, a willingness to crush any dissent under his boot, he quickly finds himself faced with with mutiny.

Dealing in drugs always ends in blood, one way or another. Jason was well aware of this. He was also aware of the fact that if you wanted to finance something really expensive quietly and quickly, drug money was the most sure-fire way of getting what you wanted.

(Actually, well-done white-collar fraud was the most sure-fire way, but if there was one thing he’d absorbed from watching Oracle, it was that fraud was never as secure as people made it out to be. It only took one individual with a computer and more skill than you to blow your operation to bits. Maybe it was old-fashioned, but at least drug-money was a physical object that couldn’t be “lost” with a few keystrokes.)

(Also, fraud was boring as a sole source of income. Too much time behind a screen, not enough explosions and punching people in the face.)

The Red Hood had been a damn-good drug lord, Jason liked to think. He’d run a tight ship, and the “severed heads in the duffel bag” shtick had quickly established just how out-of-their-league everyone else in the game was. Sure, he hadn’t stayed in business all that long for several good reasons (only one of which was Bruce), but extorting organized crime bosses was like riding a bicycle – really hard to forget. There was no practical reason for why he shouldn’t just recycle his old plan in a new city for some fast cash. Wasn’t like the shit-hole he was stuck in had anyone equipped to take him down.

Of course, striking fear into the hearts of criminals by decapitating their peers wasn’t the best strategy to use when your little brothers had front row seats to the carnage via helmet-cam.

He could just disable the cam for that part, of course. But the brats would definitely put two-and-two together and hatch some plot in response. An unnecessary headache when there was no Dick to foist them off on.

And...Jason wasn’t the best role-model in the world. He could admit to that. He used the phrase “little brothers” to refer to Tim and Damian very, very lightly in deference to the uncomfortable number of murder attempts among the three of them. Nowadays, he did regret all the stabbing and shooting and general dickery. Even though Damian was genetically engineered to be the most aggravating child on the planet and Tim kept stealing Jason’s alter-egos out from under him (unrepentantly now, the little shit). They were still better than uninterested-and-unhelpful-unless-I’m-sending-you-to-Arkham Dick and fucking Bruce. They didn’t deserve half the shit they were dealing with.

But his regret didn’t magically fix everything. There were 100-to-1 odds that neither kid saw Jason as anything more than “that one fuck-up that we don’t discuss in polite company.” Fair enough. Still, didn’t mean that the Red Hood had to live down to their expectations. He could do better – be the responsible adult, make sure they were fed and watered regularly, maybe (maybe) address their allotted emotional-expression-of-the-week.

Jason blamed his previously non-existent brotherly streak on Cassandra. She’d not only spoiled him by re-familiarizing him with friendly human contact, but she also subtly planted in his mind the idea that hey, you know who else would appreciate Jason’s company when Cassandra was busy? Tim and Damian. And you know who would benefit most from Jason’s unique perspective on life? Who needed a reprieve from Bruce and Dick and all of their frankly impossible expectations? Who could always use another person watching their backs, making sure they end up in an early grave?

(Honestly, Dick should watch Cass in Big Sister Mode and take notes.)

A soft huff of static came through the comm in his ear without warning, followed by the ridiculously-identifiable Damian’s click of the tongue. (Bruce was trying to train him out of doing it in costume so people wouldn’t catch on - with no success, of course.) “Todd, have your remaining neurons finally ceased to function? You’ve been standing outside the warehouse for five minutes. Are you ready or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, hold your horses,” he said as he checked the indicators for the explosives one last time. (Still all green, ready and able to wreck a certain someone’s next fiscal quarter.) “I was just reminiscing about the good old days, back when we all hated each other’s guts and I still blew up drug dens with the dealers inside instead of out. Ever miss those times?” he asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

Tim’s voice was dry as a desert, even with the slightly-tinny reception. “I miss them as much as I miss the knife that was embedded in my spleen.”

“Well, you have to admit, a knife in your spleen was probably the most exciting thing that happened to you that week, even if it was bad for your health long-term.”

“Clearly Todd’s mental dysfunction is worsening,” Damian said. As usual, his tone gave no indication if that was meant to be a joke or an insult.

Probably both, actually. Kid got a kick out of riling people who weren’t Dick up.

At least it was a joke clearly aimed to get a chuckle out of Tim instead of a joke at his expense. If there was one thing this months-long jaunt into the multiverse was doing, it was driving the boys together through their shared survival instinct and the fact that Jason deprived them of all baked goods whenever he had to break up their fights.

(Bribing his brothers with freshly-made cakes and brownies in exchange for good behavior was really the only reason they were three months into this shit-show with no major casualties.)

“Ain’t that a shame,” Jason replied. “It’ll just be you and Tim, stuck all alone in Not-Gotham. What a perfect opportunity for you two to bond.”

No,” both boys said at the same time.

Then the sound of Damian trying to land a hit on Tim (and failing judging from the lack of a pained grunt) filtered through Jason’s headpiece. Because Damian couldn’t stand to agree with Tim on anything for more than 10 seconds without ruining the moment.

Well, whatever. The brotherly-bond was a work in progress. “Stop fist-fighting so we can finish this,” he said. “I’ve got Falcone’s heroin wired up to an irresponsible amount of explosives, and I’d like to get our racket money before dawn.”

What I just wrote makes no sense out of context, but since this is the only thing I have written for this AU, I’ll just explain here:

This is from the “Jason-Tim-Damian get stuck in Flashpoint” AU I mentioned at some point, a few months into their impromptu stranding. How they got there isn’t super important, and I’m handwaving intervention from standard Earth not being able to get them back home in a timely manner. (Note: Bruce, Dick, Cass and everyone else aren’t trying really hard to get them back; it’s just not working for Reasons.)

After thinking about these three in a strange Not-Gotham for a while, I came to the conclusion that they’d lay low and avoid drawing attention to themselves instead of trying to approach Thomas-Batman or Alt-Cyborg or someone else. Things might be different if Dick or Cass were the oldest sibling on the ground, but Jason’s much slower to trust, as are Tim and Damian. A virtual stranger that also happens to be Batman would be the last person Jason would trust with his and his brothers’ safety.

Naturally, that means the guys need to find a source of income and a place to hole up. The former, Jason gets by extorting the local organized crime - charging money to sabotage competitors and charging money to not sabotage his employers. Lighter on the murder than his first return to Gotham, but Tim and Damian noticeably don’t bring that subject up anyway. I imagine they picked a spot that was an auxiliary batcave on their Earth and fix it up as a temporary base where Tim is trying to engineer something to send them back to their Earth (funded by Jason’s extortion racket). Damian is stuck as the odd-jobs kid, which he handles with as much patience as he can. (Hint: he’s not a very patient person.)

It would be a waste of the setting not to get the three of them involved with Thomas-Batman and possibly even the main plot of Flashpoint, so this scene would be a sort of in-between-scene prologue before the status-quo changes. I’m leaning towards either Red Hood crashing one of the Cyborg-Batman scenes because he needs tech only Cyborg has or one of the guys interrupting Martha-Joker’s last crime.

Of course, this premise requires a long-form fic, which I’ve never written before. This is all wild speculation, really. I’ll probably never write all of this out. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

BUT IF I DO, you can count on Jason finding out that in a world with no Bruce and no Robin, he STILL ended up dead and resurrected. The multiverse just has it out for him, clearly.

#batman au #au #fanfic #mine #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #flashpoint au

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xen-xa · 7 years

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So while at work the other day, I daydreamed an au that was a mix of @beanpots Day and Night AU and Sailor Moon. It’s kinda strange for me because I only know the bare minimum of what Sailor Moon is about, which resulted in me making things up as I go along. Bear with me.

So, there’s the King of the Day and the King of the Night (don’t really have names for them and hell if I’m going to fallback on Latin words) and they watch over the Earth from their Moon Kingdom. One day they are invaded by beings that appeared from a black hole and their kingdom is almost destroyed. To give their kingdom a chance in defeating these evil beings, they send a keeper of souls to another dimension so that the two kings and the Guardians of the Moon can be reborn and find a way to defeat the invaders once and for while. Why did they go with this dumb plan? Hell if I know.

In an alternate Earth, the King of the Night is reborn into Yuuri Katsuki, ordinary everyday university dance student. One day he comes across some little kids bullying a cat and he steps in to help. Turns out the cat can talk and it informs him that he has to become Sailor Moon to defeat the bad guys from the black hole and save the Moon Kingdom from destruction. Yuuri is reluctant because he just wants to live an ordinary life damnit but he can’t say no to an adorable talking cat, especially one that likes katsudon as much as he does.

Some headcanons of this au.

The Sailor uniforms look like these but, of course, designed to fit their themes and colors.

Phichit is Yuuri’s best friend and Sailor Mercury. He’s also a dance student, majoring in traditional cultural dances, and helpfully documents every monster battle and mission.

Chris is Sailor Venus, of fucking course. He’s close to a certain silver-haired senior student at their university and teases Yuuri about him every chance he gets.

Guang-hong is Sailor Mars. Don’t fight me on this. He has a crush on music student Leo who unfortunately gets caught up in all the monster battles that happen every week. He uses the incidents as inspiration for his music.

JJ is Sailor Jupiter. LOL another J. The biggest planet for the guy with the biggest ego.

Seung-gil is Sailor Saturn because he’s F A B U L O U S

Please don’t hurt me about these scout assignments. I don’t know who did what in the og series I’m just having fun with this.

Uranus and Neptune are lesbians in the og series so let’s keep ‘em that way. Mila and Sara are these scouts respectively. Only difference is that they’re bi not gay lol

Michele is in denial about his sister being in a relationship with a girl.

Sailor Pluto is Minami LOL Tiny planet for tiny boy.

Yuri P is the son of King Day and Night who followed the kitty soul keeper into the portal to the alternate earth but due to the laws of physics or some shit, it takes months for him to arrive (though in his POV it takes seconds) and he’s only ten years old here because adorable babbu Yurio~

Yurio loves his parents very much and misses them very much but is also very determined to help free his people from the invaders.

Otabek is a human boy that Yurio befriends instantly. He also gets caught up in many of the monster-of-the-week incidents but unlike most of the other victims, he remembers them pretty clearly. So much so that he knows who the Sailor scouts are and also who Yurio is.

He plays dumb though because he wants to protect Yurio and knows that there is surely a reason that this is being kept a secret.

Yurio is Mini Moon. Phichit teases him about it. It makes him very angry.

Will Yurio become Black Lord because of the evil intentions and manipulations of the bad guys?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Damn I almost forgot about this one dude.

His name’s Victor and he’s like the school idol. Senior dance student, handsome, rich, charming, talented, the envy of guys and girls everywhere.

Yuuri is crushing on him big time.

They’re kinda sorta friends because they’ve had a couple classes together, worked with each other once in a while, follow each other on SNS, and run into each other on campus but that’s mostly it?

Yuuri is oblivious about Victor’s gigantic crush on him.

Two dumb souls pining for each other.

Oh yeah, Victor is the reborn King of the Day.

He’s also Magenta Mask, the mysterious masked vigilante in a sparkling magenta suit that helps the Sailor Scouts out of tight situations.

Despite his name, he throws blue roses as weapons and distractions.

Where’d he get all the stuff for his crime-fighting?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And that’s basically all I have for now. FUN!

#yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #victuri #victuuri #au #headcanons #ALL HAIL MAGICAL GIRL AUS

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lyricalt · 7 years

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[ovw] destiny au - bounty sniping

@fishew requested some bounty snipes and i bLEW IT. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Genji is, without a doubt, just as handy with a sniper rifle as he is with any other gun. From their shared ledge, McCree sneaks a sidelong glance, lifting his head from his own scope to see Genji switching positions again. His movements are discreet, little changes in his posture that shouldn’t draw attention, but Genji eventually sits back and crawls precisely one meter to McCree’s left before repositioning himself into a low crouch.

McCree checks back a laugh. He doesn’t doubt Genji’s skill with a rifle—but it’s clear as day the exo is completely too restless for sniping.

He hears Genji’s soft ‘aha’, three sharp cracks echoing off the Cosmodrome’s rocky mountains, and McCree peers through his own scope to see a Fallen scout dead in the middle of the road—a captain by the looks of it. He picks off the two shanks for thoroughness’ sake.

“Don’t mean t’be overbearing but,” McCree begins, reloading. His hand bumps against some odd protruding thing. Awkward. He doesn’t much like this new prototype, and he makes a mental note to tell Banshee about it. “If you just sit tight for a headshot, you’ll conserve ammo.”

Genji scoffs, getting up to move again. The butt of his rifle bumps against McCree’s helmet, mostly fond. “I don’t appreciate you backseat sniping.”

“Backseat?”

“That’s… an old expression, I believe. Hm. I don’t know where I heard it from.” Genji settles down, this time to McCree’s right side, nearly shoulder to shoulder. He leans close, long cloak brushing over McCree’s, and holds out his hand, palm up. “In any case, I need more ammo.”

He looks expectantly at McCree. McCree makes a prolonged noise of faint exasperation before relenting.

“Headshots, you know,” he says, signaling for his ghost to transfer another telemetry into Genji’s inventory. “They work.”

“They bore me.”

Together, they shoot down a couple more vandals and dregs. Their ghosts collect the data from each kill, along with the short verbal recordings for Banshee’s benefit. The new sniper rifles aren’t anything special, but they’ll do for the newer guardians that seem to be popping up with more frequency in the tower. McCree pulls away from his scope, sweeping the canyon and airship graveyard, taking a moment to take in the sights.

It’s a pretty day; clear blue sky, bright sun, green trees. His ghost reports a light breeze and a cool temperature—as well as the oxygen density, which McCree takes as a hint to be self-indulgent for once. He sends a silent communication of amusement to his ghost, it’s light twinkling in response.

Meanwhile, Genji fires another three-shot round into some unfortunate target. McCree swivels around to take a glance. Another dead captain, it’s ornaments showing a low enough rank that Genji could have done without the last two shots.

“Why,” he says, plaintive. He’ll be running low on telemetries at this rate. And glimmer.

“One shot for the shields, another to stagger, and one in the chest to finish them off,” Genji explains, not bothering to look up from his scope.

“You play with your food too much.”

“Say what you want. I’m ahead by three kills.”

“And you owe me three telemetries for sniper ammo,” McCree says, despairing, but his tone is only a distraction as he picks off three more vandals and a dreg. He lets out a low whistle, a clear note of sarcastic awe. “Well wouldya look at that. Now I’m ahead. It only took me, what? Four shots and a wink.”

Genji’s helmet turns to him. McCree shrugs. They only need a few more kills before there’s enough data collected between the two of them. Now it’s only a matter of who will be the one to finish the bounty first.

Genji stands up. He hops over to a ledge that’s only slightly higher than the one McCree is laying on. Snorting, McCree rolls over on his back, rough gravel crunching when he shifts, and watches as Genji sets up his new vantage point, which is not much different from their shared previous one. McCree is pretty sure they’ve cleared out most of the stray Fallen scouts for now. It will be a while for the next patrol to come by, wondering where their scouts are. Genji likely knows this as well, but he is hunched over his sniper rifle, intent on winning the challenge.

McCree’s ghost hovers above him, triangular parts spinning. It lets out puff of static, the glitter of light falling over him. He catches Genji’s ghost doing the same thing, though he hasn’t a clue what it means to them, specifically.

The white static settles over Genji’s shoulders. From his angle, McCree thinks it might be the prettiest thing he’s seen in awhile—a sky blue backdrop, the rusted old metal plane beneath Genji’s feet a sharp contrast, the long line of his sniper rifle running parallel against the slope of some snow-capped mountain in the distance. No other planet is quite as beautiful as Earth, and maybe it’s only some kind of biological bias McCree has, despite his lifetimes on Mars.

McCree stares for another fleeting second, stealing away one last glance, and puts his gloved hand beneath his helmet. His ghost chirps happily and helps him pull it off, storing it away for later. The cold air hits his face but he breathes, filling his lungs with the smell of pine and underlying rust from the decaying airships around them. This isn’t something he wouldn’t have been able to do on Mars, or the Moon, or Venus—nowhere else but here. It’s a novelty he hasn’t quite gotten over yet.

His ghost hovers near his ear, and McCree delights in the way it wants to whisper, now that he doesn’t have their private comms; “See? Isn’t this nice?”

McCree gives it a fond pat before sitting up. He glances at Genji, one more tempt to be self-indulgent, and jumps onto the broken down plane, metal rattling as he lands. The wind snags at his hair, makes his cloak block Genji’s line of sight with a flash of red.

Genji looks up at him, head moving as if he says something inside his helmet, but McCree taps his ear, no voicelink to show for. He bends down, hand bracing over Genji’s shoulder, and presses his lips over Genji’s visor—lets out a comical little mwah, just because.

Genji stares at him, completely still for a total of three seconds. He shifts soon after, hands changing the grip over his sniper rifle. His voice fizzes as he allows the audio to sound through his helmet.

“Hah! If you think a kiss will distract me—” Genji starts to say, looking through his scope. He pauses.

McCree cackles, plopping himself down next to Genji. He admires his work, tiny mouth-shaped smudge imprinted over Genji’s helmet, just over where his right optic would be.

“Skin grease,” Genji says, his voice just two decibels shy of a shriek.

“As well as saliva,” his ghost adds helpfully.

“You slobbered over my visor!”

Genji goes on for some time about the gross habits of organic beings, and McCree takes the last bounty kill, as well as Genji’s vengeful pouncing thereafter.

“Unforgivable,” Genji declares, his helmet disappearing in a cloud of static. His green optics are bright round circles, flashing with something that isn’t quite as angry as he makes it out to be.

“Told ya,” McCree says, laughing. He points to Genji’s forehead, “Headshots work.”

Genji huffs, odd little noise from vocal emitter he’s learned to replicate. He leans close, hard metal pressing against McCree’s forehead. “Do they? Perhaps I’m not convinced.”

McCree laughs, bright, and lets Genji box him in to try again.

#destiny au #overwatch #wow sorry im like this #promtfic

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sciencespies · 5 years

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Our galaxy has a shocking array of really strange stars. Here's the ultimate guide

https://sciencespies.com/space/our-galaxy-has-a-shocking-array-of-really-strange-stars-heres-the-ultimate-guide/

Our galaxy has a shocking array of really strange stars. Here's the ultimate guide

You know how stars do. They’re out there, doing their thing, fusing a whole bunch of hydrogen into helium, shining up the joint.

These are our galaxy’s oddballs, and we love each and every one.

Need for speed: PSR J0002+6216

(J. English/University of Manitoba/NRAO/F. Schinzel et al./DRAO/Canadian Galactic Plane Survey/NASA/IRAS)

It’s one of the fastest stars we’ve ever seen.

Red and dead: RX J0806.4-4123 (815 light-years)

(Nahks Tr’Ehnl, Penn State)

Mutually assured destruction: Apep

(ESO/Callingham et al.)

Last year, hidden away in a sinuous cloud of glowing dust, astronomers found something amazing: a binary star called Apep that’s right on the verge of a spectacular supernova. And when it goes, there’s a good chance it will spew out a gamma-ray burst, releasing more energy in 10 seconds than the Sun could in 10 billion years.

Never before have we observed a gamma-ray burst in the Milky Way.

As the two stars orbit each other, they churn the mass they’re shedding into a spiral shape, much like a lawn sprinkler, creating a rare type of nebula called a pinwheel.

The Ancient One: HD 140283

(Digitized Sky Survey (DSS), STScI/AURA, Palomar/Caltech, and UKSTU/AAO)

The Alien Megastructure: Tabby’s Star

(NASA/JPL-Caltech)

The most likely culprit is some sort of dust, and a heckton of it, but it’s also possible we’ll never really know. ¯_(ツ)_/¯

The Giant Wotsit: EPIC 204376071

(GrandpaFluffyClouds/reddit)

If you thought KIC 8462852 was fascinating, wait until you hear about EPIC 204376071. Earlier this year, astronomers reported that something blocked the light of this star – a mere 440 light-years away – by up to 80 percent for an entire day.

It dimmed quite suddenly, hit that peak of 80 percent and then brightened again more slowly, probably because something was passing in front of it. But what?

Astronomers are taking more measurements of the star to try and figure out if something is orbiting it, so we just have to sit tight for now. The suspense is killing us!

Slow and Heavy: HD 101065

The best explanation is that these actinides are the decayed form of as-yet unknown and long-sought super-heavy elements hypothesised to exist somewhere out there in the Universe. Whoa.

The Magnetic Zombie: XTE J1810-197

We still don’t understand these strange beasts of stars, but continuing to monitor XTE J1810-197 could pony up a few clues.

The Star that Shouldn’t Exist: Swift J0243.6+6124

youtube

OK, so neutron stars are just pretty weird. Swift J0243.6+6124 is another one, and gosh is it ever a puzzle.

Swift J0243.6+6124 puts paid to that. But it also provides a new source for testing how magnetic fields affect the launching of jets, so that’s pretty neat.

Blowin’ in the Wind: Mira

(NASA/JPL-Caltech/C. Martin, Caltech/M. Seibert, OCIW)

Baby planets forming around a dead star – how poetic. There’s a science fiction novel in that.

It’s one of the most amazing things in a sky full of amazing things.

#Space

#Galaxy #Milky Way #Our Galaxy #Our Planet #Planets and Stars #Science #Space #Space Exploration #Space History #Space Science #Stars #Universe

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