#meteorology snark

[worstjourney]

There was a device in the Cape Evans Hut which measured gusts of wind: this was officially a Dines Anemometer, but it was dubbed the Blizzometer by the men of the Terra Nova Expedition. Simpson, the meteorologist, eagerly informed the Hut on the wind velocity every time there was a particularly strong gust.

“Blizzards became so frequent, however, and the instrument was so infallible, that its novelty soon wore off. There came an inevitable day on which, when a more than usually fierce gust shook the Hut, and a chorus shouted 'Where did that one go?' (although in those days we had not yet heard of Bairnsfather), Sunny Jim lost his customary luminosity, and exhorted us to go and see for ourselves." (Ponting, The Great White South, p.127)

In case you missed it, that was a WWI pop culture reference:

Sometimes I think I needn't be in this deep, but then I catch something like this, and wonder how many others I've missed ...

[wedreamerz]

The Island of Maravu - Chapter 2

The Island of Maravu

Chapter 2 - The Bunker

Pairing: Starker AU (Peter is 22)

Rated: Overall: E / Chapter: T

Status: WIP

Summary: The Avengers are in shambles and Tony Stark just needs to get out from under the fallout. So, he does what every genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist does - he buys an island. Maravu is just the escape Tony is looking for until one morning a beautiful young man arrives with secrets and a smile that makes Tony’s broken heart beat again.

Some Tags: AU, A little angst, Smut and Fluff is the goal here people but I can’t just do that apparently without backstory and plot. No real trigger warnings that I can think of unless water or storms are an issue for you. If you run into something I didn’t think of, let me know.

Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~

The birds hated him. They were in cahoots. Thirty-three days on Maravu and the birds woke him up before the sun every freaking morning. Tony stirred, rolled over and scowled at the open window. They were at it again.

He groaned and put a pillow over his head.

"Friday, play something loud."

"Playing your Something Loud playlist," Friday said. Tony rolled his eyes, noting the amusement in her voice before the opening guitar riff of Def Leppard's Photograph blasted through the speakers.

The cabin, a simple, but cozy one-room affair with a fireplace, sofa, kitchenette and dining room table, suited him perfectly. One of the two luxury items he'd insisted upon, besides Friday and the technical upgrades he'd made, was the queen-sized bed that dominated the bedroom area of the cabin. He'd have flown in a king if it would have fit. But even the queen was pushing it.

The cabin came equipped with an attached bathroom and shower. But Tony had grown accustomed to showering in the original, outdoor shower that ran using accumulated rainwater. Something about showering outside in the sun brought out the hedonist in him.

During his first week on Maravu, Tony installed a self-sustained arc reactor to solve the electricity problem and ensured they’d had fast reliable wi-fi. The plantation resumed operation the following week with Mr. Umbari as manager. Tony liked the huge mountain of a man. They worked well together and at the end of a long day, he often sought out his calming presence at the community fire that burned in the village's center courtyard most evenings.

They would talk about the day and share a drink before retiring. Tony liked to watch him talk, his expressive, deeply lined face and white, wiry hair and beard that stood up as though it had a mind of its own. Mr. Umbari had learned to speak English by watching episodes of old American shows like MASH and Happy Days and Tony found himself smiling when now and then he recognized a familiar phrase. When the reactor went live, Mr. Umbari had celebrated by giving Tony the double Fonzie thumbs before dragging him into a chest busting hug.

For the most part, the islanders didn't intrude on Tony’s solitude. Mr. Umbari was a fair and able leader, so Tony didn't get involved in the day to day operations unless they needed him. But periodically he'd be working in the lab he’d set up near his cabin and hear someone call out "Turaga Ni Kaukamea!" Tony would look outside to see someone emerge from the trees and request his assistance at the plantation.

Mr. Umbari addressed him as Mr. Stark even after Tony had invited him to call him by his first name. But the rest of the islanders called him Turaga Ni Kaukamea or sometimes just Kaukamea. Friday had translated it as basically Man of Iron.

So, they were aware of who he was. But no one ever asked to see the suit or wondered why he'd chosen to live on the island when it was clear his own house was in such disarray. They didn't bring it up at all. They expressed their gratitude in humble ways and treated him like anyone else on the island, which was perfect with Tony.

He peeked out from under his pillow to find that the sky has lightened into a midnight blue with the faint orange glow of dawn creeping up behind the windowsill.

"Okay, okay. Stop the music and start the coffee," he said, giving in. "And play me something tropical.”

"You do realize that the current temperature is 76 degrees with a humidity of 94%?" Friday asked as the sound of steel drums and ukulele began.

"My body still thinks it's December in New York, don't judge me," Tony snarked back, smiling when the coffee pot came to life. The rich aroma of the local blend infused his little cabin as the sun crested the horizon.

Tony threw back the sheet and stretched. He drew a deep breath and padded naked across the wood floor to the little kitchenette that consisted of the smallest stove he'd ever seen, a microwave, and a refrigerator that was straight out of the '70s in avocado green. The fanciest thing in the kitchen was his second luxury item – his beloved Concordia espresso machine.

He poured a cup into one of the chipped mugs that had come with the place and took it outside to the fire pit he'd built in the dooryard. His cabin was far enough away from the beach to be safe from the tide but close enough that his view from the fire was the perfect place to watch the sun come up. Tony lit the fire and settled into his camp chair with his coffee to do just that.

Although he tried to focus on his plans for the day, his mind wandered down paths he preferred to avoid. He tried not to spend his time worrying about the wayward Avengers, Rhodey, and the countless ways he had and continued to fail Pepper. But in those quiet moments when it was just him and the traitorous birds, Tony let it in.

He rubbed his chest. Like a phantom limb, it ached as it had for months after his last meeting with Steve.

And Barnes.

Tony sighed. Pepper had insisted he see a shrink after everything went down. He'd gone - a couple of times. But he still couldn't talk about it. Hell, he couldn't even think about it without igniting the flame of resentment and hatred. Logically he understood that Barnes had been brainwashed by Hydra. He was no more responsible for his actions than Clint had been for what he'd done when under the power of Loki's scepter.

Nevertheless, here Tony was. If Barnes were to materialize before him, Tony would probably try to bash his head in with a coconut.

Probably. Maybe.

Barnes may have the benefit of Tony’s doubt, the mind-controlled pass. But Steve...Cap…he’d made his choices all on his own. Tony oscillated between hope and fear that the big, stubborn man would get caught. He had no idea what he would say to the man if he ever saw him again. But he had the little burner phone Steve had mailed to Tony Stank tucked into his sock drawer nonetheless.

The temperature had risen just a little. On the horizon, Tony spied a rain cloud, one of those slow-moving clouds you could watch approach with its sheets of rain that blanketed the island at least once a day.

He frowned.

"Friday, what's the weather supposed to be like today?"

"Fair in the morning with severe thunderstorms rolling in at approximately 1:34 P.M."

"I suppose I should get started then," he said, gulping down the rest of his coffee. He put the mug in the sink and fished a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt from his dresser. It was time to check on the arc reactor.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Boss, the Fiji Meteorological Society has issued a tropical storm warning with potential for rotation in this area and is expected it hit earlier than expected," Friday warned.

Tony crawled out from under the arc reactor's electronics panel and adjusted his glasses.

"How bad?" he asked, wiping his hands on a towel. He peered up at the doughnut-shaped reactor housing. The walls of the cave in which he'd built it flickered blue and purple as it purred softly.

There was a certain amount of poetic justice in this, he thought. He'd started this in a cave. And now here he was again, minus the car battery and armed guards. And this arc reactor was designed only to help.

Tony climbed a small set of metal stairs, freshly painted safety yellow, which led to the ground floor. He opened a set of doors and entered the circular antechamber where islanders could look through the reinforced glass at the arc reactor below. They'd installed bunker doors at the mouth of the cave for emergencies. But they were usually left open to the public. The reactor itself was locked and protected by Friday. No one entered without Tony's knowledge.

Outside, the palm trees swayed and here and there little puffs of dirt from the path twisted into the air with leaves and rocks. Tony had been in the reactor bunker for a few hours and the wind had picked up considerably.

"Radar indicates wind speed of approximately 22 miles per hour. No active rotation," Friday said.

Tony chewed his lip and considered the news. When he'd moved in, Mr. Umbari had gone over their storm preparedness plan. The island had a storm bunker for its inhabitants. As though he'd summoned the man, Mr. Umbari and his orange menace of a golf cart sped around the corner. He slid in next to Tony's red cart, barely missing the tail end as he turned the sharp corner. Tony chuckled and shook his head as Mr. Umbari unfolded his long legs and climbed out from under the orange and white striped canopy.  He hurried toward the bunker as the first drops of rain plip-plopped against his yellow rain slicker. As soon as he saw Tony Mr. Umbari grinned and waved. Tony ushered him inside and hit the button to close the bunker doors.

"Mr. Stark. The boys said you were here," Mr. Umbari said, entering through the single door.

"Yeah, I was just checking on the reactor, giving her a tune-up. Friday says we've got a storm on the way?"

Mr. Umbari had been introduced to the AI and he seemed completely charmed by her.

He smiled at the ceiling. "Hello, Ms. Friday. Thank you for keeping Mr. Stark so informed."

"It's my pleasure, Sir," she answered in her pleasant Irish lilt earning a grin from Mr. Umbari.

"Unfortunately, Ms. Friday is correct, Sir. Since this is your first storm on the island, I wanted to make sure that you were safe."

"Thanks for your concern. I'll finish up here and go down to the cabin, batten down the hatches and be in the bunker in time for dinner, Dad." Tony smiled at the large man as he put away his tools."

Mr. Umbari laughed, deep and genuine. "Good, good. I'm glad to hear it. I hear that Skillet has already begun a pot of lamb stew for the occasion."

Tony's stomach growled at the thought of food and he realized he hadn't eaten yet today.

"Skillet's cooking?" Tony asked and Mr. Umbari grinned.

"If Skillet's in the kitchen I'm not gonna miss it," Tony said.

Kitchen wizard and culinary school dropout, Skillet worked the plantation to help pay off his student loans. But one meal at Skillet's table told Tony that the young Fijian was wasting his talents.

Tall, whip-thin, with long black curls he kept up in a messy bun most days, the kid could cook rings around the overpriced chefs at any of the five-star Manhattan restaurants. Tony had offered to pay his debt and set him up in a spot of his own, wherever he wanted. But Skillet turned him down every time.

Tony, being Tony, had been trying to come up with a loophole that kid would accept to no avail. But he had one final trick up his sleeve he planned to save until the right moment. As Tony's chef, Skillet would both pay down his debt and have his talents recognized by the top critics around the world at the events Tony threw. It was a win-win for both of them.

Mr. Umbari nodded, evidently pleased with Tony's response.

"Good. Good. I should go to make sure the animals are safe. I will see you there, my friend! Goodbye, Ms. Friday," he said.

Tony smiled, amused at the way the islanders treated everything with a relaxed acceptance. Even in the face of a potentially damaging storm, they prepared for a gathering of families.

"See you there."

~~~~~~~~~~

Tony stepped into the storm bunker and was immediately enveloped in the delicious aroma of stew and fresh bread. He breathed in deeply and looked around the room, impressed by the setup. The bunker looked like a basement with concrete walls and floors. A bar and small kitchen stood on the right side of the room where Skillet was working his magic. The left side was lined with padded seats. They'd made the cold, grey room into a warm and comfortable place to gather with tapestries on the walls, and woven rugs and pillows on the floors.

"Turaga ni kaukamea!" several children called and swarmed, reaching up to be held and tugging him toward the group of adults who sat at the tables lined up end to end in the center of the room.

"Oh hey!" he exclaimed when a little girl who couldn't be more than four climbed him like a palm tree. The adults laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He sat down in one of the folding chairs and held her on his lap.

"Kaukamea, what are you building in your lab? Filipe says you have a ghost and you talk to it. Does it help you build things?" she asked.

"Who told you that?"

The little girl pointed to a boy with bronze skin and wide, curious eyes. He looked up at Tony in fascination from the safety of his mother's arms.

"Filipe?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. The boy nodded dramatically.

"And what's your name?" Tony asked the girl.

"Sara," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Sara and Filipe. It just so happens that I am currently working on some upgrades to the arc reactor technology that runs the island. Have you seen the new bunker?"

All the children nodded in unison.

"So, if...and Filipe, I'm looking at you here… IF someone were sneaking around my lab, they may have heard me talking to Friday, who is not a ghost. She's more like a really, really smart computer who can talk."

"Is she smarter than you?" Sara asked, wide-eyed.

"Well...technically, yes. I built her. But I taught her to learn. She has access to all the information on the internet. So, she knows like...everything."

"Woooow," the children chorused.

"Right? She’s crazy smart.”

"Kaukamea, can we meet Friday?” Sara asked. "I have a computer at home. But it's never spoken to me before. Do you think if I brought it over, Friday could teach it how to talk?"

The children murmured their agreement, each of them wanting Friday to teach their computers to talk too. Tony noticed that the adults had stopped what they were doing to listen to the conversation.

Tong chuckled. "Unfortunately, your home computers aren't quite as smart as Friday. But if it's okay with your parents, you can come by the lab to meet Friday. But listen, it's super important that if you come to visit me that you don't go into the lab by yourself. You never know what I'm working on. And it could be dangerous. Do you all understand?"

The children agreed and ran off to play. The adults chuckled and resumed their conversations. Sara wiggled down from his lap and grabbed Filipe's hand.

"I told you there wasn't a ghost," she said.

"Well, it sounded like a ghost," he said.

"Sorry about that," one of the women said, taking a seat next to Tony. "The children are so curious about you. I'm Delana, Sara's mother." She held out her hand and Tony shook it with a smile. Delana was a little younger than Tony with caramel skin and sleek black hair she wore swept up in a ponytail.

"It's okay. I'm used to it. I just wanted to make sure they don't get hurt."

"Thank you for looking out for them. And for everything you've done for the island. When Mr. Umbari was forced to sell, we thought that everyone here would be forced off the island. But you swooped in and allowed us to keep our homes, brought reliable electricity and Wi-Fi, and helped us keep our jobs. You have truly been a blessing."

Tony nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. "I'm glad I could do some good," he said.

Delana tilted her head; she studied him a moment before smiling and patting his hand. "Let me get you some stew," she said finally before getting up and heading to the kitchen where people had begun to get in line.

Tony tuned in to the conversations around him. The people spoke in a mix of English and Fijian. Friday helped by providing translation on the lenses of his glasses and he followed the conversations. Delana returned with a big bowl of stew and a plate piled with roti, a flatbread the islanders seemed to have at almost every meal.

The storm hit late in the evening with everyone gathered around a large pot-bellied stove as Mr. Umbari told stories to the nervous children. They invited Tony into one of the wooden rocking chairs by the fire. He'd refused several times because although he owned the island and everyone had been more than welcoming, Tony couldn't shake the sense that he was still an outsider, merely a means to an end for these people. But eventually, he accepted and as the wind howled outside and Friday fed him updates about the storm, Tony drifted off to sleep in the warmth of the fire.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed

@caseyhasissues @iroironfestivalgoopmaker @unicornpower5301

[strangestofquarks]

Hey, I want to let you guys know something

I spent a good portion of my life just surviving. Fifteen years ago, I skipped, and laughed, and soaked up every ounce of knowledge I could get my hands on, but was starting to understand that I was different from a lot of people, and how they didn't seem to like that. I wanted to talk more than people wanted to listen, I got impatient easily, and snarked back a lot, and I could never seem to say the right thing to people. I thought there was something wrong with me, because I was told there was - my parents would make me sit in a chair and not move for two hours if I argued with them, or make me write 'I will not talk back' over and over again literally a thousand times before I was allowed to leave my room. Ten years ago, I was an awkward, moody middle schooler, lost in every book I could get my hands on, and I started to write all the stories in my head. I was afraid because I was starting to get a crush on my best friend, and my best friend wasn't a boy, and I was also worried, because my focus issues and hours lost to anxiety were becoming more apparent. Five years ago, I wore long sleeves in hot weather to cover up the cuts, and I stayed up til three in the morning reading fanfiction to keep away the questions - why I couldn't seem to focus on getting work done, why my parents would rather believe that I was acting out rather than having panic attacks, whether I was ever going to be brave enough to come out, if there was really a future for me at all, because there sure as hell didn't seem to be much of a present.

Today, after a semester full of D&D sessions, meteorology experiments, and knowing there was always a place for me with friends at a few different tables in the dining hall, that ended with kicking ass in finals week, I graduated with my associate's degree, and next semester, I'm applying to transfer to study astrophysics and planetary science. I was half asleep during the ceremony, exhaussted from being three days post-op from a breast reduction, which was what my insurrance would cover (they don't recognize non-binary people, so top surgery's out), sneaking out my phone every now and then to grin at the encouraging messages my boyfriend was sending me from his spot in the audience. But I chugged a bit of water and was up and alert to get my diploma (I even got to have my preferred name be called - I've been out as nb and pan for over a year now, by the way) and make my speech, which was half winged because I needed to shorten it so I could sit back down before I started crying from joy. I can talk to people well now, and can talk to audiences too - done that a lot lately - and I can study and focus better now with lots of work and some meds. I can climb mountains, and share my poetry, and I can travel without needing perfect plans, and wind up on unexpected but incredible adventures. I learned that I'm capable, that it's worth trying, and I found home.

So to anyone reading this, your journey isn't the same as mine, of course, but I want to remind you, from someone who once couldn't even begin to dream of all the amazing things they're doing today, if you're feeling broken, or lonely, or lost, give it a chance. Years ago, I seriously considered ending it, but have absolutely zero intentions of ever letting myself get near that place again - and if I ever do, I will not hide it, and I will get help, because I could have missed out on so damn much if I'd lost the little spark of hope I had. It can get better, so much better, and it's worth all the breakdowns and the hurt and the waiting, and even if you think setting that extra alarm to get up in the morning or telling someone you're not okay won't matter, try it, because the worst that can happen is it doesn't work. Take it an hour, a day, a week at a time, and if all you can do is just survive, do that, and give yourself a chance.

[imagine-loki]

The Power’s The Be

TITLE: The Powers That Be CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Forty

AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki discovering a hidden mutant when he realises they are at risk of being found by S.H.I.E.L.D. who experiments on mutants, he is the one to help them.

RATING: Teen and Up

"I must have misheard you, what did you just say?" Thor asked.

"It cannot be...why are you looking at me like that boy?" Odin was actually slightly fearful of his usually complacent son's anger filled features.

"You do not get to dictate such things father, whom we love is not capable of being dictated to any being by any other, and you must accept this. Loki loves her, even when he himself cannot fully comprehend it. She is everything he ever wished for, someone who wants and needs him, not for what he should be, but for who he is, faults and all." Thor spoke firmly, not raising his voice.

"As Allfather..."

"You must accept that even you cannot dictate certain things if Mother was here..."

"He is the reason she is not here." Odin bellowed.

Thor took a moment to look at his father. "So that is part of this, you blame Loki for her death."

"He told the Kursed how to get out of the dungeons."

"And I led the Dark Elves here by bringing Jane here with the Aether within her, yet you do not blame me." Thor countered. "You are so blinded by grief and contempt, you rather see Loki self-destruct than heal."

"I..." Odin silenced, not capable of countering Thor's argument.

"I know you miss Mother and her council Father, I do, for I still miss her also, but she would want this to end, this anger to Loki, she loved him, no matter what, and she would want this for him." Thor's voice was calm.

"The council will not allow it."

Thor chuckled, "I dare any of them to say such sentiments aloud." The smile on his face scared Odin; such was its likeness to Loki's. "Neither will be dictated to by anyone and well you know it, so accept it father, this will come to pass if they want it to be so." He stated, walking away and leaving Odin to ponder his words as the old king surveyed the pair below him.

*

Loki had something akin to a snarl on his face when Thor approached him. "I heard."

"Then you know that I am against it."

"Against what? There is nothing going on."

"Really Loki, you think I do not realise what is afoot, any with a mind and eyes can see it, in fact, I do not think eyes are even necessary at this stage."

"Really? Your pathetic excuse for a father did not see anything, so what makes you think you are smarter?"

"Because I also carry on the blood of one of the most astute beings of all, Frigga, our mother."

Loki wanted to make a comment in return but failed to be able to make a remark, not wanting to berate the woman that loved him as only a mother could; instead he looked down at Alexia, who was resting against him. "It is nearly impossible to believe the strength she holds."

"Did you know?" Loki looked at him in confusion. "About her harnessing fire?"

Loki shook his head. "No, I had no idea."

"She is terrifying."

"And now all the realms know so."

"There are those that will not rest until they slay her." Thor watched Loki's reaction.

"You think me unaware of such?"

"Are you willing to defend her?"

"Are you?" Loki challenged.

"Almost as much as you."

"Almost?"

"There is one thing of great note with you Loki, you seldom care for any, a matter of fact, I can name all those you have ever cared for in your entire life on one hand..."

"That is convenient, for if there were any more, you would find yourself at the limits of your numerical abilities." Loki snarked.

Thor gave him a bemused look before continuing. "They are few and very far between, but when you do care for one, you guard them with your life."

"Yes, that is why Frigga is dead."

"You were not to know, you cannot hold onto that Loki, it will consume you, think of Alexia and her need of you, that it the way forward now."

Loki looked at the sleeping woman beside him, feeling her fingers gripping his coat in her sleep, as though fearful that he would disappear into thin air as she slumbered.

*

On Midgard, as the people of the Pacific Islands rested in their beds, waves began to form and grow, though there was no meteorological reason for it, and on the sea bed, a being's eyes began to open.

[trollan-academic]

Just some Kyleeth character development mumbles, because I keep thinking I should jot them down, but I never do, and right now her blog is sort of becoming “Orko-hot-take-O-Rama” which is great and all, but I feel kind of bad since this is Ky’s blog. 

Anywho, I was just sort of thinking about the fact that Ky was kind of MADE to be a character for panfandom/”Spooky Jam Jar” RPs and took advantage of the fact that inter-dimensional storms (and indeed, inter-dimensional toomfoolery in general) were canon in MOTU. I honestly don’t think she’d be that interesting a character if left to her own devices living out the rest of her life in Trolla. She’d probably get pretty damn complacent either with working as an Archivist or going back to doing meteorology work and probably just become a grumpy academic that everybody thinks is no damn fun because she thinks she’s “saner” than everyone else. She’ll get frustrated but she’d never face the kind of shit that would ever make her think that maybe she needed to rethink her attitude and not be so judgmental towards others. She’s established a social station among academic circles and while I doubt many others really like her personally she really doesn’t give a crap. 

What happens when she’s dumped in other universes is that she has to build everything up all over again, and most of the times, shes uh... different from most other people there. REALLY different. A lot smaller, a lot weaker, squeaky-voiced, really dumb about technology... it’s fairly natural for a lot of people not to take her seriously, peg her as “goofy and cute looking,” and view her like a child, which of course, makes her indignant. (Yes, she would totally make a sign that says “I DEMAND TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY.”) She feels like she has to convince everyone she meets she’s an intelligent, sensible person, not just this cute little thing to look down on but it’s impossible. 

This, of course, draws out her more lovely personality traits including the fact that she is more than willing to manipulate someone if they’re that insistent on believing she’s a dummy by obfuscating stupidity to take advantage of them that way. The fact of the matter is, though, despite the fact she often thinks she’s too good for goofy old Trollan society and constant disrespect can draw her into a yelling rage, she hates conflict, doesn’t know how to HANDLE conflict, but most of all, she doesn’t really even MEAN to shut herself off from others. She’s so afraid of opening herself up and trying to learn how to understand others and BE understood... it’s so hard and she’s so afraid of failing. It’s easier to be derisive of others and hide behind books and snark. 

As the name of the blog implies, Kyleeth’s best traits come from her willingness to learn, but she has to be willing to put in the effort to open herself up to others to get the most out of her travels and encounters with other beings. She’s managed to work out a comfortable existence on Trolla as an academic but is hardly living to her full potential as a person. She’ll have to be forced out of her literal comfort zone if she ever wants to truly flourish.