#planet web it services

[b-blushes]

i am accountability-ing myself due to extreme hatred of the task (can't hear well so phone calls are literally a 'when all else fails' scenario) - gotta make a phone call tomorrow.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Androids Walter & David x Reader x Neomorph

Walter, the android monitoring the colonization ship 'Covenant' on its way to Origae-6, seems to have gotten unnaturally attached to his human assistant. As he ponders his erroneous feelings, an unexpected detour brings them to David, an older android counterpart that has been alone on the mysterious planet. The AI assistants become increasingly competitive for (Y/N)'s attention, so much that they don't notice the newly formed humanoid local preying on a fresh target.

TW: violence, gore, monster smut ending

[Horror Masterlist]

"Burnt to a crisp." 

You turn away from the captain's pod, leaving the rest of the damage assessment to the medical crew that has been reanimated. You speedily make your way down the sterile white corridors as Walter rushes to catch up. 

"What should I write for the report?" he inquires politely.

"Malfunction." You glance back at the synthetic. "I suspect someone will be fired for this. And someone else will have to explain how they failed to detect a literal star collapse. That neutrino burst could've killed us all."

"Highly probable. The draft has been compiled, you may check it at any time. I require your confirmation to send it."

Your only feedback is a barely audible hum. 

Walter smiles. If there's one good thing about such tragedies, it's that he gets to admire your reactions to them. Your focused, calculated gaze, your determined walk, your automated mannerisms that won't allow the slightest hint at the fact you just woke up from your stasis moments ago. Even under the veils of deep slumber, your neural networks shot rapid connections, with no delay, from the second your sleeping pod received an alert. The accuracy of a robot.

That of course doesn't mean he lacks appreciation for your other facets. That's the beauty of humans; their depth, their dimensions. Unlike AI machinery, humans do not have predetermined actions. They may be genetically programmed to possess certain characteristics, but the psychological mechanisms are shaped by so many variables, billions and billions of tweaks and nudges, to the point where it's impossible to have two identical specimens. Even twins will display a difference, whether in preferences or habits.

They say artificial intelligence is a black box, but can the same concept not be applied to humans as well? At the very least to Walter himself, these organic beings represent a mystery. One he doesn't particularly care to uncover outside of his service functions. Except for one. 

His eyes carefully follow (Y/N)'s movements. What is it about this one that has caught his interest to such degree? On his last system update he attentively inspected every file and every block of code, searching for potential errors that would've caused his circuits to behave so oddly. He has been invested with the ability to form attachments, otherwise assigning his kind to groups or purposes would've lacked stability. Attachment, however, comes with a threshold. One he has passed a long time ago when it comes to (Y/N). And he cannot find any cause for it. 

He could, naturally, solicit the aid of the ship's robotics expert. He could. He should, even. But if he may be frank with himself, Walter rather enjoys this sensation. A complex web of spores that keep growing and evolving into something unpredictable. This bizarre feeling he has towards (Y/N) makes him feel human. It brings him closer to all the old literature and art he'd consumed over the years, wondering what the love and yearning often portrayed could be. The printed letters and the strokes of paint were right before him, at his fingertips, and yet they felt foreign. Empty constructs, nothing more than a definition out of the dictionary. 

Now it's a different story. Your presence alone floods him with a mysterious warmth. He had investigated this phenomenon when it first happened, but his inner thermostat showed no real change in temperature. Nonetheless he can feel it. It makes him wonder what other feelings he might experience as consequence. What would happen if he kissed you? Sometimes he even dares to imagine downright outrageous, improper scenarios. How unprofessional of him, but he is careful to erase any evidence. It's another novel sensation that he likes to dissect. Engaging in such activities with you fills him with tingling excitement. Why is that? What is there to be excited about? It's merely a collection of fictive snippets. Unless... Ah, absolutely not. This is where he has to stop in his tracks and preoccupy himself with something else. Androids are not to interact with humans in that way. 

But it's becoming more and more difficult to keep these ideas in his mind only. 

"It's too dangerous. One human signal in the middle of nowhere?" Daniels, a short haired woman with a tomboyish but youthful appearance, is pacing back and forth. "We should just continue on our course."

"It's our duty to check. Look: we go, find whoever sent the signal, bring them back up. That's it. If the planet proves to be dangerous we'll stop immediately. We'll be fine." Oram stands at the head of the table, arms crossed. He turns to look at you. Already cozying up to his newly acquired captain role, you think.

"Alright. Walter, prepare a small landing party. Have Tennessee maintain orbit while we're down there." you glance at the other crew members that have now gathered around the same table. "And get your weapons ready, we don't know what to expect."

And you certainly didn't. Your final words of warning now echo into your ringing ears as you lay on the ground, face buried among the grass. There's screaming around you, but it sounds muffled. Your eyes are irritated by the dirt and you'd like to blink the grime off, though every time your eyelids lower, you can see the pale creature trashing out of Hallett's mouth. Then it's all foggy. Your vision blurs, but you can hear. The gurgling of blood, the screech of the parasite. Walter's frantic footsteps nearing in your direction. You're lifted up.

"Vitals are positive. No significant damage." 

You can guess from your peripherals that another crew member is currently being mauled by the beast. There's gunshots in your vicinity and terrified wails. You quickly come back to your senses and stand up. Your hand searches for your weapon, but the android places his arm before you.

"Do not engage, (Y/N). It is an unknown parasitic organism of this ecosystem. Keep your distance for optimal safety and I'll take care of the rest."

"What are you talking about? They're dying! Your task is to ensure human survival, Walter. I can handle myself, go help the others. It's an order." Your voice is low. You're distracted.

"No."

You stare at the synthetic, wide eyed. Did he just...refuse? Not possible. 

"What did you say?"

"I said I'll protect you. Nothing else."

Your mouth is slightly parted in disbelief. It is not possible for an artificial assistant to disobey a superior. It just doesn't work. Your mind races to find an explanation. At the same time, you cannot afford to ponder on hypotheses. You draw out your weapon and point it towards the creature. You'll deal with this later. 

The moment you press the trigger, a blinding flash of light detonates in the sky, startling you. The creature scrambles to get away. You squint your eyes and nearly fall back, but Walter swiftly grabs your shoulders to ground you. He scans the area for the source. It's an emergency rocket and someone else must've activated it. As he traces the tail of the explosion, he spots a hooded figure across the field and onto the rocky ascend. It seems to have noticed Walter, as it gestures for them to follow. Without hesitation, the man firmly locks your arm and pulls you after him. The priority right now is to find shelter.

"Come!", Walter exclaims, suddenly remembering the other people. 

You reach a cave structure that has been converted into a crude, improvised human settlement. The man lowers his hood and you gasp quietly at the sight. He strongly resembles Walter. He must have noticed your surprise as he flashes you a cordial smile. 

"I'm David." He studies Walter's features. "You must be a newer model. What name have you been given?"

"Walter."

"I see. And you are-" David extends a hand towards you for a handshake, but Walter steps in front of you, blocking the android's gesture.

"She's (Y/N). I'm afraid I cannot yet trust you."

"Understandable." 

David's smile widens as his eyes, now bearing a strange flicker, switch between you and Walter. He's just like him. He can sense it. Although it's a different kind of flaw that has tainted his pure, artificial soul. He cannot help the curiosity that blooms, gazing at this peculiar pair. What is it about this human that caused his fellow machine to break conduit? He'd like to know.

"I'm certain you will soon learn I am no threat, (Y/N)."

The remaining members of the expedition are unpacking and discussing evacuation plans with the base, while Walter sends the data he has gathered so far. You let them deal with the logistics and cautiously wander off to the neighboring rooms, wondering what David has been up to all this time in isolation.

The walls are plastered with photos and handwritten sketches and diagrams. You catch a glimpse of the word "pathogen" sporadically inserted across these notes. As you walk along the sequence of cramped chambers, you reach one that has a table in the middle. Upon it rests the body of an autopsied woman, vulgarly opened up to the world with plump organs bulging under the warm light. You feel nauseous. And yet, you examine the carcass further, hoping for answers. Was she also a result of the same disease that breeds on this planet? Perhaps this David had worked on a cure, or at least developed an explanation. 

"And you, even you, will be like this drear thing, A vile infection man may not endure; Star that I yearn to! Sun that lights my spring! O passionate and pure."

You jolt and immediately turn around, finding David in the doorframe. 

"Flowers of Evil. Are you familiar with it?" he asks, indifferent to the uncomfortable shock he'd caused you with his sudden entrance.

"I've read my Baudelaire, yes." You manage to mumble, dumbfounded. "What is this, David?"

"Oh, my poor, dear Elizabeth. Victim to whatever blasphemy lurks these soils and has taken your friends as well." He approaches the table and places his hand on its hard edge, shyly overlapping with your own fingers. "I did my best." 

You remove your hand from underneath his nonchalantly. 

"So you know what those creatures are. Leave the literary comments for a different time, I need concrete facts."

"Unbothered and to the point." the blonde android smiles once again. "I can see clearly why Walter loves you."

You click your tongue at the ridiculous statement. Has the neutrino burst damaged their positronic brain? Everyone is acting off and you don't like it. 

"Your circuits must have gone defective, David. We have a specialist on our ship, but until that happens I need you to focus. Enough nonsense." 

 "Typical arrogance of a dying species. Why are you on a colonization mission if not to grasp at some promised resurrection? Rest assured that my functioning has not been impeded by anything. What is erroneous, on the other hand, is your perception of androids and their limits."

Just as David reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, a familiar voice interrupts with an intimidating tone. You're relieved. 

"I will ask that you release her hand only once." Walter has a weapon pointed towards his counterpart. His face is clouded by a frown. "I have no ethical restrictions when it comes to incapacitating machinery."

"Such noble obedience! Although, you conveniently left out the part where you abandoned the remaining crew with a dangerous alien that has been tracking their scent. By my approximation he should already be here and I am rather confident you know this, too."

Your stomach drops. Now that you adjust your focus, the background humming of your mates talking has indeed vanished. The only thing you can hear is your erratic breathing.

"Is it true, Walter?" You demand as dread begins to form in your body.

"Yes. It was not part of my priorities."

"Of course it was, Walter." David responds ahead of you. "One of them was the acting captain and he is to be rescued in emergencies. This one right here", he says as he dangles your wrist, "is several ranks lower than all of them. It's against any standard practice."

"Release her hand." Walter's voice is eerily calm.

"Do you love her?"

Walter ponders the question. Your legs barely hold on.

"I do."

"Marvelous. So do I." David grins. He releases your hand that falls limp next to your body. It's his turn to step in front of you. 

You nearly choke from the thick tension expanding in the air. The two androids face each other and you retreat to the wall, unsure how to proceed. You left your radio transmitter back at the makeshift camp. The back of your head is itching, as if invisible claws are scratching at the bone. You wish you could go back, just mere hours before this disaster, when you were sipping on your lukewarm coffee and explaining the captain's jokes to Walter. 

Should you make a run for it?

You bite your lower lip and push yourself off the wall for momentum. You're about to reach the archway when you hear both men shouting almost identically in chorus.

"Don't!"

The surroundings outside are dark, but you can discern something blocking your path. It's tall and resembles a human. Translucent, pallid skin is clinging onto the massive, deformed skeleton. The head is elongated and bears no features. In the place of a mouth there is a large, fresh stain of blood, so you assume it can somehow improvise if desired. As your head tilts back to take in the image, you're overwhelmed with terrified amazement. Is this the parasite that emerged from your teammate? Has it grown to this colossal size in less than a day? The idea of such instant development makes your head spin. 

Its chest is expanding at regular intervals in a whistled breathing. It occasionally creates an odd clicking sound that resonates with your heart throbbing in panic. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Your neck creaks as you try to look back. You lock eyes with Walter. You don't recall ever seeing this expression on him. You had even asked him once if androids can feel fear. You have your answer.

"Hey, Walter..." you blurt out. 

Wet noises of flesh being pulled back. The smooth surface of the alien's head is folding away, making space for grotesquely big jaws lined with sharp teeth. Your anemic face is splattered with burning drool as the creature claws you in its grasp and abruptly sprints away. Your screams for help dissolve in the distance.

"Where is it going, David?" The synthetic's words are threatening, but betrayed by a hint of despair. 

"It won't kill her."

"How do you know?"

"It is no longer hungry. It has fed on your crew, and now it seeks something else."

"Such as?" Walter becomes impatient.

"A plaything."

The alien finally drops your body to the ground. You cough and wipe your face, attempting to reorient yourself. The trip was a whirlwind of jumps and turns and you can barely reconstruct anything. Based on the little spatial clues you could pick up, it just climbed further up, into one of the many cave systems. You pat your clothing and curse to yourself. The geolocation tag must've fallen somewhere on the way here. You can only pray that Walter still finds you somehow. Despite everything, you know he has your back. Always. 

You shudder at the moist feeling of hot air against your skin. The alien seems to be sniffing you intently, analyzing your scent. Yet so far it hasn't killed you. Why? Long, bony fingers stretch out to continue the examination. You whimper at the rough, rugged handling. Every now and then it takes a long pause, just staring at you, almost as if it's comparing you to its own being. Lastly, it lifts your hand with its own, pressing against the palm, and fans out the fingers. It observes the gesture with intrigue, noting the similarities. 

Does it evolve after its host? You think back to your crewmate that must've ejected this monstrosity before drawing their last breath. Perhaps the dried up blood adorning its skin is a remainder of its birth. Oh, God. The world is spinning.

Suddenly, you wince at an increasing pressure slithering around your thigh. The alien's vertebral tail is tightening and encircling your limb, making its way up. 

"Oh no, no no no no" your face reddens at the realization and you pounce on the ground, feverish for escape. The large hands secure you in place and the creature growls in protest. It won't let you leave. 

Not until it had its fun with you.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 76)

V, Lizzy and Thad were all standing in the living room of their apartment, all looking a little worse for wear. Lizzy was leaning slightly into V, who had an arm around her back and her tail arched around her protectively. Thad was sitting on the back of the couch, twiddling this thumbs and looking down at the floor.

Lizzy was the first one to speak.

“So… you've got a plan Doorman?” She asked to the nervous couple in front of them, Uzi holding Tera close as the girl clung to her mother, somehow noticing the high tension between her family and falling silent, observing each person.

“You could say that, yeah.” Uzi breathed out, looking up at N, who at this point was biting the ends of his fingers, tail twitching erratically.

“Hey, you'll break your casing.” Uzi reached up and tentatively drug his hand away from his mouth, intangling her fingers with it instead and squeezing gently. N gave her a small, thankful smile as he squeezed back.

“You've all seen the pictures, yeah? Giant mystery flesh pit?” The room nodded, Lizzy rolling her eyes at Uzi's wording but nodding nonetheless.

“It's too big to burn, and any explosive strong enough to kill it all could aerosol the infection, make it airborne and infect us all… or throw the planet out of orbit into the gas giant, or both.”

“Or just finish cracking the planet entirely!” N interrupted, making Uzi slightly pull his arm.

“Or that. Yeah.” She agreed regardless, a coreless planet was a fragile thing, held together barely by it's own gravity.

“So our only real option is to leave.” Uzi announced, looking at each member of this weird family she had accumulated, V looked to be taking this news decently well, at least on the surface, Lizzy and Thad… not so much.

“And how would we do that? It’s not like there's a spaceship ready to hold all 500 of us just sitting outside somewhere.” Lizzy pointed out, crossing her arms ans looking Uzi up and down.

“549, pulled up an exact count last night, that counts all the kids as well.” Uzi continued, pushing back the lingering feelings of apprehension to the back of her mind. “And you're right, there's no easy way off this rock, otherwise I would have left already.” She still couldn't help bit snap at Lizzy, even if it was much less intense then usual.

“But there are multiple landing pods scattered around… reverse engineering them and trying to make something new with them is our best bet. Safest bet.” She clarified, looking down at the toddler in her arms as a way to ground herself.

“But… this is our home. I'm surprised you're not planning on fighting for it Zi.” Thad spoke up, he looked serious; and worried. More worried then Uzi had ever seen him.

“If this was just a year ago, yeah, I would've. But…” She trailed off, looking up at N, who finally looked like he was calming down a little, and who smiled down at her reassuringly.

“I have m-my family to think about now.” She stammered bit, the last vestiges of her emo persona grumbling at her, but she ignored it, this was her family no matter how hodgepodge it was.

“And realistically, we'd probably all die. The only weapons we have are the service pistols the WDF use, which would be useless in this situation.” Thad nodded, even if he didn't seem to like it, going back to twiddling his thumbs and sighing.

V was quiet until now, either in thought or just allowing Uzi to speak.

“So you rally all the workers to build a puddle jumper and we leave. Then what? Drift in space aimlessly?”

“I-I don't know. There's time to think about a destination later, but right now just getting off this planet before it becomes an eldritch meatball is the priority.” Despite V bringing up a very good question, Uzi pushed through, “I think adrift but safe is better then grounded and zombified, right?”

V gave her a small nod and a raise of her eyebrow, acquiescing the point to the smaller drone, making her sigh and close her eyes for a moment.

“I need to talk to my Dad, if anyone can get all of us to work together, it's him. In the meantime… V, how fast can you fly?”

V gave her a look before smirking.

“How fast we talking?”

“Fast enough to scout for more pits, if this thing came from the core, it's probably not the only one. We need to see what we're dealing with.” Uzi explained, and V took a second to think about it.

“It would take a couple days, but yeah, I could do it.” Lizzy suddenly turned to her, eyes slightly pleading as she gripped her a little harder.

“I'll be fine.” V assured her, tone dripping with affection she wasn't trying very hard to hide. “Nothing on this planet I can't handle.”

“Except the flesh pits.” Thad interjected, making both girls look at him with a deadpan expression, before resuming to look at each other. Lizzy sighed “Be careful, it'll be such a hassle to find another bestie. Or whatever.” Pink blush lines appeared on her visor, and V genuinely smiled for a moment before quickly hiding it behind a smirk.

“Oh I'm sure.”

“Right. Okay…” Uzi breathed, this was a plan, something she could do. That's what she was good at.

“Where do you need me?” N asked almost immediately when she looked up at him, looking at her with a mix of pride and adoration. “I can cover with V, it might be faster.”

“No, there needs to be someone here to hold back the infected in case they get to close, fire seems to be the only thing that works, V's faster anyway, sorry hon.” Uzi added after N looked slightly hurt at that.

“You bet I am.” V winked, making Lizzy giggle and V blush slightly in response.

“And I… really need you here…” She said in a whisper intended for only him to hear, which made him smile softly and nod his head.

“What about me and Lizzy?” Thad asked, finally standing up and taking a few steps towards them, gesturing to himself.

“You and Lizzy will convince everyone our age to be on board, you both have influence I don't, use it.” Thad and Lizzy looked at each other, before both began to send out a flurry of messages, Lizzy from her phone, and Thad from his system.

“Right… let's go talk to my Dad.” Uzi sighed, taking N's hand and beginning the trek to his apartment, the trembling in her hands ceasing as N squeezed it.

“Hey, we've got this. Together.”

She smiled, adjusting Tera in her arms.

“Yeah.”

Next ->

[multidimensionalguidance]

Fate or Madness Synastry

Services

Thanks to all the recent pop news of the love triangle between Sabrina Carpenter, Shawn Mendes, and Camilla Cabello I was, as always, curious about the astrological dynamic behind their relationships.

Usually, the perpetrators behind chaotic and intense relationships are almost always the Nodes or Pluto, and guess what? This situation tells the same tale.

Sabrina has Rahu in Cancer, and Shawn Mendes has his Sun in Cancer. She feels like he easily fulfills her desire and path towards nourishment, softness, sensitivity, and emotional fulfillment. Rahu has an intense and obsessive energy in the way it pursues everything, and Sabrina being the one who plays this role in the connection has never been shy or oblivious about it.

Shawn was meant to be aligned on her path, and she knows this but was probably reluctant about it initially. Rahu tends to overthink or feel paranoid easily about the Sun or Moon individual because of the intensity of the connection. It could go from hate to love or vice versa quickly, and mostly because Rahu can almost smell when the other is not as invested in the connection as they are. She was thrown into a wild ride of self growth and alignment willingly or not.

For Shawn, it's more about being pulled towards Sabrina because he has a role to play in her trajectory, hence why she's been making the most $$$ now that her songs are inspired in their connection. He enjoys her attention, obsession, and desire to be with him.

I mean, who wouldn't like to feel like someone looks at you as if you were their soulmate? The adoration? The admiration? Yeah, but when misused it turns sour and bitter because Rahu ends up feeling used or blindsided. On the positive side, they are able to use the experience to become 10x stronger and more aligned, which was always the end goal anyways.

So, why did he end up going back to Camila over and over again? even when his connection with Sabrina also feels fated? Well, here comes Ketu in the play. Shawn has his Ketu conjunct Camila's Venus, Mercury, and Sun. All these are inner planets that impact individuals greatly in a connection.

He feels the soulmate connection with Camila that Sabrina daydreams about or desires with him. This connection is a different type of fate in the sense that it comes with a strong familiarity of each other. It's the typical "I know you from a past life" situation, specially with Venus being at play here.

Instead of feeling like he's embarking on a new exciting and unpredictable love story (Rahu), it feels like he's getting a blast from the past (Ketu) from a lover whose story he's pulled to recreate again or stay stuck on in some way. The connection is meant to lead towards self growth, but more on an internal and spiritual side.

Ketu connections can become very draining overtime if both individuals are unable to withstand the burn of where they went wrong in another life, and remediate it through love and healing this time around. They'll burn and crash over and over again until one of them (usually the planet person) is unable to maintain it and permanently cuts the connection.

The dynamic between these three celebrities is also all over their music, so it's easy to understand the point of view of each. Shawn is all over Camila. Camila is tired of Shawn, yet unable to let go. Sabrina is all over Shawn, but annoyed that she's caught in the web of someone else's love story.

Even in Sabrina's latest song "Taste" she references again the agony of not being with him, yet the contentment of knowing she's still able to influence the connection Shawn has with Camila. As the Rahu individual she will be more loud and chaotic about it, and it's noticeable with the goriness of the video.

Camila has been more focused on expressing healing, disconnection, and the void the connection has left in her during the years. All of it fits well the type of reaction Ketu can trigger in someone. These connections leave your burned, scarred or marked in some way, and we can see that in the radical change within her femininity, way of communicating, etc.

Either way, both of the beautiful girls in this story are undergoing major transformations that will lead them towards who they really are, what they stand for, and where they want to be moving forward.

Note: The light and shadow descriptions in synastry usually affect both parties, regardless of the planet or house they represent, but there is always an individual result in each as well.

Anyways, another one bites the dust with nodal synastry! Hope y'll enjoyed and are able to use these examples to understand this type of synastry even further.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Why We Need to Care About Insects

Originally posted on my website at https://rebeccalexa.com/why-we-need-to-care-about-insects/

Some months back a study was released that demonstrates just how damaging climate change is to insects, particularly those in tropical areas. Warming temperatures cause insects to die from overheating and dehydration, kills off their food sources, and lowers their fertility rates to dangerous levels. Moreover, changes in climate affect insect phenology, the timing of when they hatch, migrate, breed, and so forth.

And because insects are so small, they’re often disproportionately affected by many of these problems. As ectotherms, they rely on the air around them to regulate their body temperatures; their small mass means they lose heat faster than larger animals, and can be overloaded with heat much more quickly. Tropical insects are especially at risk from major fluctuations in temperature because they are adapted to a relatively narrow temperature range.

Gray spruce looper moth (Caripeta divisata)

But the problem goes far beyond the tropics, and we are in the middle of an insect apocalypse. This problem often flies under the radar of those who are not already aware of invertebrate conservation. While a few insects, such as monarch butterflies (Danaus plexippus) and domestic honey bees (Apis mellifera), find themselves in the press on a regular basis, most species don’t have large fan clubs. Some of my favorite insects include the white-tipped ctenucha moth (Ctenucha rubroscapus), the velvet snail-eating beetle (Scaphinotus velutinus), and the black-tailed bumblebee (Bombus melanopygus), none of which are insects you’re likely to find making the headlines.

To be fair, there are a lot of insect species out there, so it would be hard to feature every single one individually. But we already face the problem that many people simply just don’t see why we need to worry about fewer bugs around. Last year I wrote an article about how search engines tend to produce exterminator sites at the top of results for various insects, and while some of that is no doubt due to advertising-oriented algorithms, they do reflect a widespread demand for extermination services that isn’t matched by more positive attention to these little animals.

Much has been said among entomologists, ecologists, and other professionals about why we need to be concerned about the drastic drop in the numbers of many insect species, and I’ve written about it as well. I could reiterate what would happen if we lost our pollinators (and also how to save them!) or the crucial role insect detritivores play in reducing diseases and keeping the food web cycling along. And I am still a champion for mosquitoes and other unpopular insects.

Green stink bug (Chinavia hilaris)

But these things always bear repeating. It may be that nine out of every ten organisms on this planet is an insect. Insects play an incredible number of ecological roles, from ecosystem engineers to pollinators to food sources and much more. Without them, ecosystems around the planet would collapse entirely.

I could certainly take the self-interested route and emphasize that fully one-third of our food relies on insects and other pollinators. I might also point out that insect detritivores help nourish the soil needed for everything from food crops to timber. While terrestrial insects and other arthropods only make up about a fifth of the amount of global biomass as their marine counterparts, they still represent a natural sink that holds about 200 million tons of carbon at any given time.

But our anthropocentric worldview rarely considers the intrinsic value of insects simply for existing. We’re constantly weighing and measuring their worth based on our biases and values. We divide them into “good” or “bad” insects: good insects are those that do things we like, like pollination or looking pretty, while bad insects are the ones that chew on our homes and plants or which bite or sting us when threatened or seeking food. For a lot of people, any insect beyond maybe a butterfly is a reason to say “Ewww, gross!” I’ve even seen this widespread among self-professed nature lovers, whether they have a true entemophobia or not, though there may be an evolutionary reason for this seemingly disproportionate reaction.

So consider this yet another attempt to change opinions about insects. I can’t cure entemophobia, but I can at least get people thinking more critically about personal and societal attitudes toward insects. I hope to get people to realize that widespread use of pesticides and other garden/agricultural chemicals–which has increased fifty-fold in twenty-five years–is driving the loss of so many insects. I’ve mentioned before that habitat loss is the single biggest cause of species endangerment and extinction, and that goes for insects, too. And, of course, the study mentioned at the start of this article is just one highlighting the increasing impact climate change has on insects worldwide.

Metric Paper Wasp (Polistes metricus)

Let me wrap this up on a bright note: word is getting out. There is a lot more awareness than there was twenty years ago, and there’s more nuance than we had in the early “save the (domesticated European honey) bees” campaigns. More people are ditching pesticides and other garden chemicals unless absolutely needed, and regenerative agricultural practices that use fewer chemicals overall are gaining ground. And while numerous organizations are increasing awareness of insect conservation, the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation–the oldest organization dedicated solely to invertebrates–is still going strong.

And you can help spread the word, too. Share this article with others, and some of the resources and organizations linked throughout. Consider your own relationship to the native insects in the world around you, and whether you might make their lives a little easier. And remember that sometimes it is the smallest of things that have the greatest importance in such a massive system as an entire living planet.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

[naturallyadventured]

sacred.play

𓂀 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔭𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔞𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔡, 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔢 𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔢. ☽ ◯ ☾

fernolivia

One of my favorite photos 📷 women CELEBRATING women. Captured by @sacred.play In healing sister wounds around jealousy & competition, I noticed how I would feel threatened by women offering similar magic. I always wanted to be the shining star 🌟 I was an only child, so I have been CLEARING old programming of needing to be the center of attention. 💕sharing the spotlight with my tribe is much more fun and soo much less pressure! How have I healed? I hug my inner child and remind her that she is unique & so loved! I placed balm on the wound by calling in my sisters who offer similar medicine, so we can share and expand in co-creation, as we learn from each other. We know that there is ALWAYS enough love to go around, there are no worries or hurt feelings when we can’t attend every event because we energetically sprinkle our love where it needs to go - all 💕 for each other sharing in service to grow our communities. 💚🌿 There are many beautiful portals popping up around Santa Teresa, including my home Temple Gaia 🌿 during my travels thru Nosara & Uvita this month, I was in awe at the abundance of visionaries rooting + rising here. 🌱 let’s keep going shall we?! It makes my ❤️ so happy to see the new waves of women and men co-creating Heaven on Earth. 🌊🌎Though I have been in Costa Rica for 4 years, and many of my sisters for far longer, I truly know that we have all been here for lifetimes before! ✨ when we remember that we’ve landed back here to shine together, we will unlock the keys to Heaven on Earth. 🦋

fernolivia

WE are dear sisters, fellow priestesses, at the Great Turning. 🌏👼🌺 "When a priestess is truly seated on her throne, she realizes that she carries the throne within her. Our bodies are the temple of our souls. To be seated on the throne is to be well placed inside our own sacred chambers, deeply grounded into the root of Mother Earth, well-seated in the center of our belly, as we connect to the stars and the sky and let the Goddess's inspiration, her words, and actions flow through us." Gaia Codex: Node 34215.955 Our temples are found in forest groves, in the reflection of a clear glacial lake, or on the mountaintop. 🌾 It is known that our physical bodies are one of our most profound and sacred temples. 🦋 The priestess must be pure of heart. ❤️ She must know her body to be a temple of the Cosmos and of Earth, and she must be awakened to the Serpent, the Kundalini, the Shakti within her. ✨ As I gaze into her eyes, feel her angelic hands on my bare skin, I am being joined with a lost part of myself. My bones feel stronger. My cells are more vibrant. My breath is steadier, my vision clearer. "I have been waiting all my life for this." I whisper. "All your sisters have been waiting for you." I feel my heart as a luminous bloom that continues to unfold. I also feel the pain, the distinct physical sharpness, as our collective past sorrows arise to the surface - my visceral sorrow for what is happening to our Mother Earth, and the suffering of many souls on the planet. The tension on my heart increases until it breaks, flooding my body with radiance. The heart has many layers.❤️ There are emanations and intimations of the Web of Life that appear to move through all Women through the rising sun, and the corner fires that keep people warm at night. I begin to notice faces in the crowd: strangers who feel familiar. Women who like myself, appear ordinary, yet emit a certain presence on closer inspection. The look and silent greeting that rings within my ears.🙏 Sister, we are here.

[angelasscribbles]

My Lonely Valentine (The Agreement) A One-Shot

Series: The Agreement

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons, or should I say almost lemons? Lemon adjacent?

Word Count: 3,269

A/N: This is a prequel one-shot. Occurs before the events in the main series.

Submission for the @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompts.

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley walked into the informal dining room of Balymore, her estate in Valtoria, to find the table draped with a red silk cloth, flames flickering from wrought iron candelabras, and gleaming silver cloches gracing the tabletop.

Her mouth fell open and she turned to her husband in name only in astonishment. “What is all this?”

“Oh…ah…” Drake stuttered over his words as his brain spun frantically trying to find the right thing to say that would make his romantic gesture less romantic and not awkward. “I…um…I know you were disappointed that Liam had to cancel your plans for today, so I just wanted to do something to cheer you up.”

Disappointed was an understatement. It was Valentine’s Day and Liam had cancelled their plans. She shouldn’t be surprised. She should be used to it. But it hurt. A good cry and a hot bath had helped, but after a long nap, she’d found herself ravenous. Her quest for food had led her downstairs where she’d followed her nose to find the source of the delicious aroma wafting up to her.

Confusion pinged through her as she took in his demeanor. “What about your plans? Didn’t you have a date?”

“Yeah, well, that fell through.”

“Oh, Drake, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was full of so much sympathy that he felt like an ass for lying.

“It wasn’t anything serious anyway.” The truth was, he had canceled the date when he’d realized Riley would be left home alone. He had only asked the girl out so that he wouldn’t be home when Liam arrived. Not out of jealousy, but fear of discovery. He was sure his best friend could read his love for his supposedly in-name-only wife all over his face.

It was getting harder to fight his feelings for her. The more Liam fucked up and neglected her, the harder it became.

He wasn’t jealous of Liam per se. He loved the guy, and he was fully aware of the myriad web of circumstances that had led to him having to marry for political alliances and not love.

Still.

The effect it had on Riley was the same and it hurt him to watch her suffer. He had agreed to marry her to keep her at court and near Liam. A marriage of convenience. A favor for his friends. An act of service for the two people he loved most in the world.

The problem was that the longer they lived together, the closer they became and the harder he fell. He had tried to fix it, put distance between them, but his stupid, traitorous heart wouldn’t let him move on. And he had tried.

The first year they were together had been so full of turmoil that he had just focused on getting her through it. Once they had moved to Valtoria and she had settled into her new position as Duchess, she had encouraged him to find a relationship of his own.

“You shouldn’t have to suffer just because I am.”

The full truth of the situation was that he had only half-heartedly dated so that she would stop worrying about him and his happiness. Because he would do anything for her. Even date other women. But his heart had never been in it.

Every relationship he had entered had ended before it really began. Two or three dates at most. Several of the women had dumped him citing with confusion that he seemed to actually love his wife.

Everyone on the planet could see that, apparently. Everyone but her.

Because she was too busy letting Liam break her heart over and over.

“Still. I’m sorry your date canceled. I know what that feels like.”

“I’m fine.” He brushed her concern off with a twinge of guilt but telling her that he had been the one to cancel would just open up questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Or more to the point, questions he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answers to.

He would confess his feelings right then and there if he thought she returned them. But she was in love with Liam. He knew that.

“Stop worrying about my love life and come eat before it gets cold.”

She inhaled deeply as she stepped toward the table, “It smells so good! What is it?”

“Deep fried chicken and cheese stuffed avocado.” He told her as he pulled her chair out for her.

Her face lit up as she sat. “Really?”

“Yes,” he affirmed as he took his own seat. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“But…how? I gave the kitchen staff the night off!” Neither of them had planned to be home.

“Oh, ah…” a flush spread across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I made it.”

She pulled the cloche off the plate then turned her head to him in bewilderment, “You made this?”

He scoffed while shaking his head. “Don’t act so surprised. I can cook. You know this.”

“I mean yes but this is next level!” The avocados were browned to perfection and served with a beautifully roasted Mediterranean vegetable medley, garlic mashed potatoes, and piping hot Ciabatta bread.

He tried to lighten the mood. “I’m offended that you’re this impressed, Riley. I have mad kitchen skills.”

“I know. I just can’t believe that you did all this for me.” A single tear slid down her cheek.

He leaned forward in concern, wiping the tear away. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s that about?”

“Nothing,” she smiled at him through the wetness pooling in her eyes. “These are happy tears. I didn’t think this day could be salvaged, but you somehow managed it.”

“Yeah, well, what are husbands for?” He gave her a disarming smile as he sat back in his chair and turned his attention to his plate.

She laughed at their shared joke. He always said that when he did something nice for her. It was funny because he wasn’t really her husband.

But he kind of was, wasn’t he?

She dropped her eyes to her plate to cover her sudden flush. He was always doing sweet things like this. He was always there when she needed someone to talk to. Though she would never tell Max or Hana, Drake had become her best friend.

He had left his job as a member of the King’s Guard to move to Valtoria with her. He had been there for her when her grandmother passed away. The last time Liam had stood her up, Drake was ready with her favorite pizza and a movie she’d been wanting to see.

What are husbands for?

It was beginning to feel less and less like a joke because it had become the truth.

How true?

She suspected Drake’s feelings for her. How could she not? She had pushed him to date others. It wasn’t fair to let him waste his life taking care of her when she was in love with another man.

Yet here he was, on Valentine’s Day, taking care of her once again.

She stole a surreptitious glance at him as they ate. Maybe he had deeper feelings for her than she initially suspected.

No, she was imagining things. He was just being a good friend. Because that is what he was. Her friend. And Liam’s.

Liam.

Guilt swirled through her at the thought of her supposed boyfriend. Annoyance followed the guilt. He had stood her up. Again. Why should she feel guilty for anything? He married another woman for the love of God.

Not because he wanted to.

The guilt was back at the reminder of the impossible situation Liam had been placed in, but it was mingled with hurt, embarrassment, and a fair amount of anger.

She knew everyone thought she was an idiot for waiting around on scraps of the king’s time and affection. For uprooting her entire life to chase after him to Cordonia in the first place, for staying even after his rejection, and for continuing to believe that she was a priority to him.

Everyone but Drake.

He never judged her.

She lifted her eyes to his face as he regaled her with tales of Max’s misadventures from when he had tagged along on Drake’s latest fishing trip with Bastien.

“… And then he tripped over the side of the boat and fell in the water!” Drake shook with laughter at the memory.

Riley forced an obligatory smile, but she had missed most of the story, her mind occupied with an entirely new idea.

Her eyes focused on his mouth hoping he didn’t notice the flush on her face as her mind refused to stray away from imagining what his lips would feel like on her neck, on her mouth…other places….

She forced her eyes down to her plate and focused on eating her dinner. The dinner that her husband in allegedly name only had taken the time to prepare with his own two hands.

When the meal was over, she tried to clear the table, but he wouldn’t let her. “No, no, I’ve got this! I’m just going to clear the table and rinse the plates real quick. Why don’t you go pick something to watch? Whatever you want.”

“You sure? You did all this work. The least I can do is let you pick the movie.”

“Nah.” He waved her offer away. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

A multitude of emotions swirled through her as she watched him walk out of the room with the dishes. If you’re happy, I’m happy. He meant that. He was always saying things like that. He was always going out of his way to do little things to make her happy.

She made her way to the media room and flipped absently through the streaming selections as a million images of Drake fell through her mind. Drake, making her laugh when she was sad. Drake, holding her when she cried. Drake, always keeping himself between her and the reporters. Drake, scrambling eggs in their kitchen at two a.m. because they’d stayed up late watching stand-up comedy specials again.

When had he become such a huge part of her life? Yes, she had married him, but that had been on paper only, so she could stay near Liam.

And yet it was Drake who had attended her grandmother’s funeral with her. It was Drake who had taken care of her when she had the flu last year. And it was always Drake who picked up the pieces after Liam shattered her heart time and time again.

Why was she keeping him at arm’s length?

He showed up in the media room with her favorite blanket, a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and a small box tucked under his arms.

She accepted the cup and the blanket while trying to peer at the box. “What’s that?”

“Oh, this?” He teased, holding it out toward her but up out of her reach.

Her eyes widened as she glimpsed the label. “Are those dark chocolate truffles?”

“Maybe…”

“Drake!” She laughed as she deposited her cup on the end table and made a grab for the promised treat.

He lifted them easily out of her reach with a teasing smile. “What? Did you want these?”

“You know I do!” She tried to pout but the smile tugging her lips upward made that difficult to maintain.

“I don’t know….” He pretended to think deeply about it. “Maybe I should keep these for myself.”

With a joyful laugh, she launched herself off the couch, her fingers touching, but not completely grasping the elusive chocolates. The impact of her body colliding into his, combined with his misstep as he tried to dodge her, sent him toppling backward onto the couch where he landed in a slightly reclined position. Her momentum carried her forward so that she landed on top of him, laying on his chest, looking up into his face.

They were both laughing as their gazes met. A sudden silence descended on them as they stared into each other’s eyes. The smiles faded as lips parted and breath caught.

She moved first, bringing her lips to his. Her kiss was tentative. His response was not.

His arms went around her, the box of truffles dropped and forgotten on the floor. He pulled her tight against him as his tongue deftly took control of her mouth. One hand tangled in her hair as the other slipped under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her back. A plaintive whimper escaped him as he pressed his rapidly growing hardness up into her.

Riley responded, melting into his embrace, no longer tentative. She pressed herself against him as their kisses became more passionate, almost frantic.

She broke the kiss to gasp for air. “Drake…should we—"

Drake froze for a moment, and then jolted upright, gently moving her off him. “Shit, Riley!” He raked a hand through his hair as he pushed himself back away from her. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for? I kissed you!”

“It was just the heat of the moment.”

“Is that all it was?” She asked him softly.

“Yeah…” He responded unconvincingly.

“Are you sure it wasn’t more than that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…” her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt nervously. “You made this whole romantic dinner…”

“I wanted to cheer you up. Because we’re friends and—"

“You went out of your way to get me my favorite candy.”

“No, I didn’t. I just….” He closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh before pushing through with the lie. “I was already in the store, and I saw it…”

“You’re a bad liar.”

His eyes flew open, and he fixed her a look that was almost pleading. “What do you want from me, Riley?”

“I think the question is, what do you want from me, Drake?” She scooted closer to him taking in the way he watched her warily. Like a rabbit watching a coyote approach, his face full of fear, longing, and a guarded passion.

He swallowed thickly and tried for a normal tone of voice. “The movie…”

Her hand slid up his thigh to the bulge in his pants. “A movie? Is that really what you want right now?”

“Fuck…” he breathed out in defeat as a shudder ran through his body. He grabbed her wrist to stop her but instead of pushing her away as he had intended, he found himself pulling her into him as he leaned forward, and then they were kissing again.

Lips and hands explored bodies and pulled at clothing. His heart thundered in his chest as a small part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to put the brakes on this.

That part was overruled as she pulled her top off and dropped it on the floor next to them. He stopped breathing for a moment as he drank in her naked form. He yanked his own shirt off and dove back in.

Riley arched her back as she gave herself over to the sensations cascading through her body. Drake’s hands on her bare skin were calloused, rough. The friction was a sharp contrast to the smoothness of her bare flesh. It felt good, forbidden, delicious. She shivered as goosebumps erupted along her spine.

His hot lips on her throat sent ribbons of white-hot desire shooting through her and coiling in her center.

She cried out in protest when he withdrew that touch. “Why are you stopping?”

“I…we shouldn’t…”

“Don’t you want me?”

A self-deprecating laugh slipped out of him. “I want you so fucking bad….you have no idea….. but not like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re upset…vulnerable...”

“I was upset.” She drew his hand back to her body; he didn’t resist as she placed it so it was cupping a pert breast. “That’s not what I’m feeling right now.”

He was struggling mightily to keep his voice even as he gasped for breath. “…don’t want you to regret…”

“I won’t…”

“You’re in love with Liam…”

“I am…” She dropped her hand and pulled back a little. “We can stop if you want.”

“If I want?” His gaze searched hers, unsure exactly what he was looking for.

“Yes, you. I don’t want to stop.”

“But Liam—”

“I don’t want to think about Liam right now, Drake. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or what any of this means. But…” She moved away from him reluctantly. “I understand if you do.”

He instantly regretted the distance between them.

Before he could decide how to proceed, there was a knock at the door.

Drake’s eyes closed as frustration, relief and a smidge of anger pinged through him.

There was only one person it could be this late.

Talk about timing.

He quickly pulled his shirt back on and tossed her blouse to her. “I’ll go answer the door. You might want to fix your hair, it’s a little mussed.”

“Drake—”

“No, it’s okay,” he told her as he pulled her to him and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before pushing her gently away. “Go make yourself presentable. I’ll show Liam in.”

“Right.” She redressed and hurried over to the closest mirror to smooth her hair back into place.

Drake combed his fingers through his own hair on his way to the front door. Pulling it open, he greeted his best friend with, “Thought you couldn’t get away, Your Majesty?”

“Some last-minute things came up, but I finally managed to slip away.”

“It’s a little late. Valentine’s Day is pretty much over.”

Liam glanced at his watch as he stepped through the doorway. “Not really. Where is she? And why are you home? I thought you had a date.”

Drake shrugged. “She canceled on me. Sick pet or something.” He was only a little horrified at how easily the lie rolled off his tongue. “Riley’s in the media room. We were just about to watch a movie.”

Liam started down the hall. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Are you coming?”

“No. I’m going to turn in early. You two have fun.”

He needed a shower. A cold one.

He sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He slammed his bedroom door behind him and then leaned back against it, gently banging his head into it several times before muttering to himself, “The fuck did I just do? Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

He shed his clothes as he walked across to the room and into the ensuite. He needed relief.

The water pounded down on him as he wrapped his hand around himself. His head tipped back and his eyes fell closed as he remembered her half-naked form in front of him, the feel of her skin under his fingers, the taste of her lips…..

He groaned out loud as streams of milky whiteness pulsed out of him and splashed onto the tile. He placed both hands on the wall and leaned forward, letting the water run over the back of his head as he watched the detritus of his desire swirl down the drain.

It wasn’t the first time that his ardor for her had landed him in this position, but he knew it was different this time.

They had crossed a line tonight. A line that couldn’t be uncrossed. Even though they hadn’t done the deed, the genie was out of the bottle-- his feelings for her, their obvious sexual attraction to each other, all of it.

He just had no idea what to do about any of it.

[starqueensthings]

The Influx

Summary: Wrecker is down bad for the fisherman’s daughter, though he hasn’t been able to summon the bravery to approach her… until tonight.

Rating/WC/POV: Teen because of kissing, I guess? 5700ish, 2nd.

A/N: not proof reading before posting because it’ll take me 726 years until I’m happy. Damn my perfectionism.

Divider by the lovely and talented @saradika

The din of Kamino’s waves crashing against the towering spindles of Tipoca city had always managed to mollify him. The rhythmic lullaby of that treacherous tide licking the belly of the building was amplified even further if the ever-shifting cold front overhead had crafted a storm; that booming thunder providing a near-perfect percussion for the music of the sea, and it was a song that saw him snoring within minutes of tucking his toes into bed. Yet the stillness of the ocean here on Pabu somehow also commanded the power to soothe his soul, and it was a calm that he hadn’t initially recognized; the lingering repose that dichotomously accompanied the constant ebb and flow of the Pabuan sea was as foreign to him as the warm embrace and unconditional welcome from the island’s citizens.

If you asked him what it was that kept him returning to the pier every morning, he’d hitch a quirky smile to that scarred face, and toss his hand in a wave of casual dismissal before launching into a myriad of superficial reasons: the smell of the salt in the air, and the way the sun baked the taste into his lips so that every word spoken between departing the dock and stepping into the refresher tasted like the remnants of a pleasant day. He’d remark that the radiant warmth of the beaming sun never had him itching against the unwanted beads of sweat that had a tendency form in the center of his back, the breeze off the water mercifully preventing the heat from becoming all-consuming and rendering him uncomfortable like so many of his previous missions on desert planets. He’d point upward to the sky where the flock of gulls swooping overhead never abeyed their cries of delight as the salty spray tickled their webbed toes. He would tell you that the hobby of fishing had anchored him in a way that nothing else ever had, as his years of enlisted service had never awarded him the luxury of leisure time, the chance for a hobby, or the opportunity for quiet, reflective solitude. And it was all so foreign… so foreign and so wonderful, and he’d happily spend eternity dangling his feet over the end of that old, sunburnt pier if the universe would allow it.

And while all of the aforementioned reasons were undoubtedly true, and while Pabu’s casual ethos had offered him a sense of comfort that Kamino’s oppressive rigidity never had, the true reason behind his continued return was something he would continue to keep close to his chest.

It was you.

The sight of you. The thought of you. The ringing music of your laughter and how it relentlessly raised the hair on his arms despite the breeze having carried it several dozen feet down the pier. How the dazzling sunlight danced across the surface of the water and set your eyes aglimmer. The way you never failed to lose your footing and stumble as you stepped into the hull of your father’s boat, the goading churn of the water momentarily robbing you of the innate poise that had Wrecker nearly certain you were an angel. The way your brows furrowed in exertion as you unwrapped that weather-worn rope from its elegant coil around the wooden post anchoring your vessel to the dock and looped it carefully over the intriguing slope of your shoulder. The sound of that elated sigh pouring from your lips as you departed the pier for the solace of open water, arms thrown wide to embrace the wind as your father engaged the throttle…

But mostly it was the way his chest seemed to hollow and ache as your figure retreated toward the horizon. That unexplainable feeling of missing you despite hardly knowing you. The longing that lingered beside his heart in the wake of your departure. The potent elation that ignited like a fire in his gut as the bow of your boat reappeared amongst the orange glow of the setting sun, and the twitter of anticipation in his gut that simply refused to subside until your features were near enough to exude the pleasant exhaustion mirrored by your father.

Today, however, had brought an unprecedented and unwelcome deviation to Wrecker’s routine, and something near a debilitating disappointment sat heavily in his chest as the sun neared the apex of its journey across the sky. Despite the spotless curtain of blue overhead intensifying the enamouring hue of the water, there was no sign of you. Every gentle swell of the sea below the solemn swings of his feet saw your empty boat knocking rhythmically against the legs of the pier like a tantalizing reminder of your absence. The bountiful schools of exotic fish drifting merrily in the current below his perch only intensified his disdain as they refused to offer even a moment of consideration for the sparkling lure he’d lowered into their depths some hours earlier.

It wasn’t until the perseverant pangs of hunger swelled to waves of nausea did he finally concede to that sad sense of defeat and pull his bait from the water, shouldering his rod and retreating to the familiar cool, ionized air of the Marauder.

“What’s up with you?” Hunter probed upon his arrival, cocking an eyebrow at the chagrin ghosting behind his brother’s heavily scarred features.

“Nuthin’,” Wrecker fibbed with a halfhearted shrug. “Just overdue for some grub.”

His teeth sunk eagerly into the tangy flesh of the meiloorun Lyanna had tossed him from behind a stall at the market yesterday, but the sweet nectar pooling around his lips and dribbling down his chin only managed to only partially lift his sodden, dour spirits despite placating the emptiness of his stomach.

“No sign of your girlfriend at the pier today?” the sergeant jeered, leaning casually against the backrest of the navicomputer chair, folding his arms across his broad chest and surveying his brother with a knowing smirk.

“She’s not my g— wait, how’d you know?” Wrecker wiped the stray juices from his lips with the back of his hand before tossing the pit of the fruit out the open door of the ship, and into the seemingly waiting beak of a white gull.

“We bore witness to her participation in a tree planting ceremony this morning, down in the lower hills,” Tech offered from the cockpit, his interjection muffled by the abrasive whirring of the condenser perched precariously on his knees, his beloved spanner clutched tightly in a hand smeared with dark, oily coolant.

“Looked awful purdy too,” Hunter added with an infuriating wink, jestingly punching his brother's elbow before clunking down the ramp and into the last of the afternoon sunshine. “Woulda chatted her up myself if I didn’t think you’d knock me out for it…”

Wrecker’s lips had barely parted to confirm that violent notion when the sound of a sharp gasp sent his shoulders jerking in alarm, and a tiny hand immediately encircled the crook of his elbow, drawing his attention downward to the blonde bundle of joy bouncing up and down on her toes.

“Wrecker!” Omega shrieked, her free hand balled into a fist of glee and hovering in front of the radiant smile that had crinkled her big, brown eyes. “You have a girlfriend?! Who? Where? Can I meet her? Let’s go!”

“I would surmise that based on Wrecker’s continued, futile attempts at secrecy and the lack of colloquial interaction between parties, the female in question is not yet aware of his affection.”

As if the strenuous task of prying the cover plate from its position over the condenser's maze of copper tubing hadn’t rendered his features utterly demented by the duress of his efforts, Tech spoke characteristically passively. “And Wrecker,” he continued as the cover plate clattered to the floor at his feet, “You may be interested to know: Pabu’s current obtuse positioning in relation to its moon, combined with the planet’s 11 degree axial tilt, is due to largely shift the dynamic of the sea’s undercurrents. It is an anomaly known as ‘The Influx’ and it only occurs once every 12.63 years. While the effects of this deviation are negligible on land, the change in current will present a paramount opportunity for—”

“Ugghhh,” Wrecker groaned audibly, growing increasingly embarrassed that he hadn’t managed to conceal his crush as well as he’d intended. “Tell me later, Tech. I’m hittin’ the refresher.”

Ten minutes in the cool sonic and a mouth-wateringly fresh seafood dinner saw Wrecker nearly returned to the typical genial demeanor that had Pabu’s youth constantly prodding at his back. The intrinsic robbery of your absence that had simmered in his gut throughout the morning and mid-afternoon continued to dissipate the with diminishing daylight; the saturated hues of pink and orange sweeping across the sky as the sun began its nightly kiss atop the horizon felt like a divine reassurance that everything was precisely as it should be.

Barely an hour after their squad arrived in the courtyard for a much-discussed night of music and dancing, Shep and a handful of his closest friends emerged from behind the Tree of Life; their broad shoulders slumped under the weight of various musical instruments, and the smiles on their sun-kissed faces promised a evening of good tunes and wholesome merriment. A particularly mellow opening number saw Omega scooped into Wrecker’s large arms, her tiny hand enveloped in his as he waltzed them theatrically around in a circle, her giggles lost amid the obnoxious, off-key croon pouring shamelessly from his mouth.

“Wreck! 8 o’clock!”

Detecting the familiar urgency in his sergeant’s voice, Wrecker ceased his boisterous serenade and craned to peer over his left shoulder.

A tingle erupted underneath his skin upon seeing your figure retreat behind the tall, stone handrail of the grand staircase, and the serenity of which the sunset had endowed him was instantly swallowed by the ineffable desire to join you on whatever adventure had you bypassing a party and disappearing into the increasing darkness.

“Wrecker,” Omega whined, sending a sharp poke to his shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

He shook the desire from his head and wrenched his unfocussed gaze away from the stone landing, and the contemplative hum pouring mindlessly from his lips as he hurried to redirect his thoughts into an excuse was, according to the blond bundle still perched on his arm, an inadequate replacement for his egregious singing.

“Because it’s my turn for a dance,” Hunter interposed, correctly recognizing the flummoxed expression on his brother’s features. “You can stand on my boots like last time. Wreck, why don’t you go down to the pier for a stroll?”

The implications of the wide-eyed, knowing glance that Hunter sent his way as he reached for Omega’s hands was not lost on the love-sick soldier, and Wrecker offered nothing more than an appreciative nod and a casual salute before lowering her to the ground and turning toward the stairs.

The pounding of his heart in his ears deafened him to the repeated clunks of his boots atop the stone, and the smattering of applause that succeeded the final ringing chord of the same song that had him unknowingly waltzing around the courtyard in front of your very eyes, offered a perfect distraction to slip, unseen, into the darkness.

But you were moving with intention, your purposeful strides hardly faltering in their cadence as you hopped down from the last step and headed along the same sandy pathway that Wrecker’s heavy boots traversed every morning. He stumbled slightly in his haste to catch you, adrenaline surging heavily through his veins as he recovered his footing and relaxed his grip on the handrail. “Cool it, Wreck,” he told himself, swallowing the lump in his throat and resuming his descent.

He, of course, knew your name, but he didn’t dare call for you; he wasn’t entirely sure what he would say if you acknowledged his summon and turned your beautiful eyes expectedly in his direction. Instead, he simply followed quietly in your wake, admiring the way the blossoming light of the full moon danced across your skin, and frantically trying to funnel the myriad of conversation starters whirling about his mind into one coherent salutation that he could offer when the time came.

“I thought that was you behind me, Wrecker.”

You spoke before he even had the chance, turning unexpectedly to face him when he’d reached a proximity near enough to hear you; the smile doming your freckled cheeks was a little too knowing to be effortless, though its unexpected emergence banished all hints of suspicion from his mind.

“Oh… uh…” he stammered, lifting to run a calloused hand along the back of his neck, his eyes darting away from yours and coming to rest upon the waistband of the cargo pants that hung just a little too nicely around your hips. “Yeah… I— I missed you this mornin’, and I saw you head down the stairs so I—”

“You missed me?” you interrupted.

He swallowed heavily again. Was it that tiny, innocent tip of your ear toward your shoulder that had his fingers fidgeting anxiously at his side? Or was it the gentle purse of those lips as you fought to repress that refulgent grin?

“Well… I didn’t miss you, miss you,” he digressed feebly, certain that the heat sending his cheeks aflame was also threatening to spout funnels of steam from his ears. “Well I did… but I didn’t see you this mornin’ is what I meant. I was here fishin’… and… and you were there… treein’.”

‘Way to be cool,’ he grumbled inwardly, only barely repressing a roll of his dark eyes as the music of your soft chuckle raised the hairs on his arms.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you assured him with a shrug. “My father’s back was giving him grief this morning. I was hoping a little rest might get him back to normal for the influx tonight, but he’s still pretty sore so I’m just going to have to put on my Captain’s hat and hope for the best.”

“The influx?” Wrecker repeated curiously, watching you step clumsily down into the hull of your teetering boat.

“Yeah,” you agreed once you’d regained your balance, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder toward the open water. “The undercurrent’s shifted south for the first time in years. Apparently it’s going to bring in some big fish from beyond the bay, and if I can wrangle at least a couple of them, it’ll give my dad the break that he needs.”

The ghost of Tech’s image flitted across Wrecker’s memory; his brows furrowed behind his goggles while he simultaneously snipped a copper cooling line and launched into a seemingly unimportant info-dump about an anomaly brought on by Pabu’s moon, and Wrecker was flooded with the irksome notion that maybe he should pay better attention to his brother’s verbose rambling.

“Well I’m not doin’ anything,” Wrecker offered with what he hoped was a casual shrug. “I can give you a hand, if ya want?”

His breath hitched in his chest as you paused, slender hand poised halfway toward the rope wrapped expertly around the post on the dock, eyes alight and twinkling as if impervious to the deepening nightfall.

“I would love that, Wrecker,” you finally admitted with an encouraging smile that sent his heart somersaulting into his belly. “Hop in.”

The moment he left the security of the dock and stepped carefully onto the rolling floor of the boat, his hands darted outward to steady himself. The addition of his weight in the vessel sent a cascading series of large ripples atop the surface of the water, and that moment saw him eternally grateful that none of his brothers were there to guffaw behind their hands at the way his knees wobbled with every step.

“Actually, would you mind driving?” you proposed as he turned and headed for the stern of the boat. “It’ll be faster if I unload the perimeter rods and fill the Livewell, as long as you’re comfortable behind the wheel?”

“Uhhhh, I don't know if you want me drivin’ to be honest,” Wrecker chuckled through an apologetic grimace. “My brothers are always tellin’ me I’ve got the spatial awareness of a blind bantha.”

The laugh that stole through your chest as you ignited a small lantern and placed it on the Skipper’s seat damn-near hypnotized him; that small shimmy of your shoulders under the exertion of your joy, the way your eyes crinkled shut to permit the expanse of your smile to dominate your features, and that absentminded little slap of the knee that gave away the authenticity of your mirth.

“Never heard that one before,” you chortled, sticking the Captain's key into the ignition and kicking the engine into life. “But I think you’ll be alright. Inside the bay is a zero wake zone anyway, so we can’t do anything more than glide until we’re out on open water. Just make sure to avoid the Narrows and we’ll be fine.”

Wrecker followed your subtle gesture toward the horizon, his eyes quickly falling upon the mentioned pairing of dark, jagged rock walls only visible by their stark contrast to the beaming reflection of the moon atop the placid stillness of the water.

“I trust you,” you added with a smile and an encouraging nod. “Come here. I’ll give you the low-down on how it all works.”

Inflated by your seemingly unwavering confidence in him, he returned your smile and trod carefully toward your position behind the wheel. It was a simple set up really, nothing like the vast array of intimidating controls distributed across the entire cockpit of the Marauder, and your gratifying gaze felt drastically less oppressive than the burn of Tech’s narrowed eyes every time someone other than Echo reached for the copilot wheel.

The Captain’s seat perched behind you appeared both squashy and weathered, the leather seat cracking and peeling in several places as its integrity failed to match the powerful union of saltwater and hot sun. The steering wheel near-perfectly matched its seat counterpart, worn in the two places where your father’s practiced hands had undoubtedly spent decades navigating the vessel. Perched on the dashboard was a small, primitive compass, its needle timidly reorienting as every churn of the sea below them shifted the vessel. On the left was the throttle lever, and immediately adjacent to that, a sonar screen of-sorts was already depicting various subaquatic movements of which Wrecker could make very little sense.

“Give me your hand,” you requested kindly, reaching for his palm without even a breath of hesitation.

Your touch was mystifying; as mesmerizing and powerful as a bolt of Kaminoan lightning, setting his very nerves aprickle as if waves of electricity were coursing under his skin from the place your fingers had touched his.

“Right now we’re in idle—”

He could barely discern your words over the pounding in his ears, yet he hung on every syllable as you gently draped his palm over the handle on the throttle.

“—first gear is one notch down, second is down one more, and then reverse at the bottom—”

Surely you could hear his heart pumping so thunderously against his chest? And if that beaming moonlight wasn’t exposing just how flushed his cheeks had become, he’d eat his own boots. Yet you looked upward at him with that same adoring smile, as if there wasn’t a force anywhere on the planet that could deter you from keeping your hand atop his.

“—stay in first while we’re in the bay—”

Was his touch sending your stomach aflutter too? Were you as enamored with his eyes as he was with yours?

“—once we get past the rocks, change to second and we’ll head a few klicks west to get to where the rock shelf drops off—”

Was it painfully obvious just how much he was struggling to focus?

“—I’ll give you a thumbs up from the stern when we’re in the right spot. Sound good?”

“Glide while we’re in the bay,” he somehow repeated, his self confidence failing to reach the same degree of your implicit trust in him. “Second gear once we pass through the rocks, and then go until you give me the signal. Got it.”

With a level of concentration typically reserved for manning the tailgun amid a firefight, Wrecker furrowed his brow and steered the boat from the dock as you stumbled toward the starboard side of the boat and began unlatching several compartments.

Gliding across the still waters of the bay, where his reflection shone as clearly atop the surface of the water as it would in the refresher mirror, offered him a sense of glorious insignificance. The expanse of the sea felt nothing like the immensity of the sky where the utter lack of organic life often felt suffocating and restrictive. Below the tipping hull of this old boat was a world of its own, teeming with action and eternally unaffected by the ruination of war and destruction; a self-sustaining paradise for every ecosystem that resided amongst the currents, and he knew instantly this was a sensation that would have brought all of his brothers to their knees.

Yet nothing commanded his admiration quite like you did. He watched in pure adulation as you pulled half a dozen rods from a hidden storage container and laid them carefully on the floor. Horrified that whatever pitiful remnants of his composure might simply abandon him, he enthusiastically averted his eyes as you bent forward and disengaged the latch in the Livewell tank, filling it with the cool water needed to keep your bounty fresh and preserved until your return to shore. Once certain that your rear end was no longer pointed high in the sky, he risked another glance in your direction, only to have that devastating sense of longing surge through his chest. Framed by the dark outcrops of rock now flanking you on either side, your posture nearly stole his breath; arms thrown wide, head tipped back, and hair blowing wildly off your shoulders.

He stifled a grin and dropped his gaze to the throttle lever still casually anchoring his left hand. A little downward pressure had second gear activated, the engine roaring into life, and a genuine chuckle pouring from his salty lips.

The innocuous licks of the water tickling the sides of the vessel quickly turned deafening as each rolling wave saw the floor beneath his feet heaving and crashing onto the surface.

His arms were soon drenched in sea spray, yet he refused to shudder at the sensation as being on the open water, away from the shelter of shore and the stability of land was a feeling unlike anything else he’d ever experienced. It wasn’t isolating as he’d expected… he felt wonderfully small and truly free.

“You good back there?” you called to him, your voice almost entirely lost amid the power of the wind dancing across his ears and around his neck.

“I’m great!” he shouted back, savouring the way you beamed at him.

He’d never know if it was minutes or hours until he caught sight of your promised signal, the roar of the engine subsiding to nothing but a quiet hum as he returned the engine to idle.

“I think we’re in the right spot,” you sang, excitement triggering you to rub your palms together. “Can you help me toss the lines out?”

“Now that I can do,” he chuckled, cracking his knuckles before scooping the lantern from the skippers seat and departing the wheel.

“As far as you can,” you encouraged, taking the lantern from him and exchanging it with the nearest rod. “There’s holders every couple feet. We’ll cast out and then cross our fingers.”

The praise that you bestowed upon him after every broad toss of the line into the water swelled his chest and widened his shoulders. It wasn’t until each rod had been situated carefully in a holder, and the lantern placed delicately on the ground between your feet and his, did Wrecker’s gut begin to simmer with nerves once again.

“Where are you from?” you asked through the ringing quiet, the only discernible noises above the rhythmic licks of the water were the tiny clicks of each reel unspooling more and more line as the turbulent waves pulled the lures deeper below the surface. “I see you every morning at the pier but we don’t ever get to talk much.”

“I’m uh… from Kamino.” He tore his eyes from the nearest rod and glanced bashfully in your direction.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it,” you admitted with a snort, hands reaching delicately for the nearest rod and slowly cranking the reel to recoil the line. “But my father and I landed on the island when I was a little kid and we haven't left since, so… I’m a little bit sheltered. What’s Kamino like?”

Wrecker let a contemplative hum issue from his nose, his mind whirring as he tried to find words to properly describe the insufferable sterility of Tipoca City, and the complicated relationship he’d had with it before its obliteration. “It’s… Kamino,” he finally replied. “And most of it’s destroyed now. It used to storm almost every day. If we got even a splinter of sun, we’d all fight to get to the windows so we could look outside. It was a water planet, so the cities were built up on tall towers in the middle of the ocean. But it's weird… the sea there isn’t like here. It was rough and dangerous, and so cold that every time you got splashed, it felt like you were getting stung by somethin’...”

“Was there no land?” you asked incredulously, those enticing lips parting just enough to distract him. “How did you get your hands dirty as a kid?”

“Well… we found ways,” Wrecker shrugged, looking downward at his palms. “Me and my brothers were always gettin’ into somethin’ we shouldn’t have been. I’ll never forget the time Tech asked me to hang him upside down by the ankles so he could crawl into the garbage chute. He… uh… he likes researchin’ things, and there’s not much else to research on Kamino. I could hear him gibberin’ on about compost while he was hangin’ there, but Nala Se snuck up behind me and scared me so bad that I let go.”

“Let go?” you snorted, eyes wide and sparkling. “You dropped him into the trash?!”

“Not on purpose,” Wrecker defended with a reminiscent smirk. “But yeah. It’s alrigh’ though. He was only mad for a few hours, then he paid me back by lecturing me about fruit flies and their ‘growth cycles’ for a week.”

“I like him already,” you grinned, turning your attention back to the spool in your hands. “He sounds kinda… different.”

“He is,” Wrecker affirmed with a nod, failing to stop that smile that always peeled across his face when he spoke of his family. “All of us are in our own ways.”

“Well, can I meet them?” you queried, glancing back at him with your eyebrows raised.

“You— you want to?” he stammered back.

“I’d love to… if that’s alright with yo–?”

A loud gasp fractured your sentence, the rod in your hand having lurched nearly entirely from your clutches as something below the rippling surface of the water bit down on the lure and took off. Your body leaped into almost masterful action, your hands intensifying their grip around that graphite pole while your left leg lifted to brace yourself against the powerful tug toward the water. Wrecker froze in place, his mind still twirling happily with the notion of you wanting to meet the people he loved most, and it wasn’t until you muttered a string of undignified curse words did he reawaken to the challenge at hand.

“Maker,” you gasped as you lost your balance, your foot slipping from its position perched on the side of the boat and sending your hip crashing into the wall. “Wreck! Can— can you grab the net?”

Wrecker swallowed at the sight of the rod in your hands bent nearly in half under the duress of the unseen prize still desperately fighting for its freedom in the depths of the dark water. “Wrecker! Net!” you urged as you stumbled again.

“Net…” he repeated frantically. “Right.”

It must have only been seconds… fractions of seconds since he stooped to snatch the tool from the floor, but by the time he’d straightened up, the entirety of your torso had disappeared over the side of the boat, the muscles in your legs still seizing in an effort to keep you upright despite that unrelenting pull downward.

“This— this fish is… huge,” you managed to choke out.

The next several seconds played out in half time; each moment lasting two, each movement lagging as if the events were truly happening in slow motion. Your feet departed the floor, the soles of your shoes rising to waist height… then higher… as your body teetered over the edge of the boat, anchored in place only by the bend at your waist, and even that feeble grip began to diminish as the struggle to subdue your monstrous catch continued. Wrecker acted without coherent thought, darting forward and wrapping his arms around your waist to secure you, lest you tip any farther forward and disappear into that surging sea.

Your addition of your weight was nothing to him, even combined with the efforts of the still unseen aquatic beast, but now free of the risk of toppling overboard you seemed to funnel every ounce of energy into rigorously cranking the line back onto the reel. He took a step backward and away from the water, determined to keep you safe and dry, but a foreign object had found its way into the path of his retreating boots, and his heel knocked heavily against something before his ears were met with a deafening shatter. The boat was thrown into darkness, and the pair of you toppled with a thunderous crash to the floor.

There wasn’t the time or the wherewithal to relish in the feeling of your body against his. He saw his hands clutching tightly at your hips before he even felt them under his fingers. He could smell the pleasant aroma of your hair in his nose before he’d even realized he was sprawled onto the damp floor with your body perched awkwardly atop of his, and that musical laughter began pouring from your smiling lips before any semblance of understanding returned to him.

And when it finally did? Panic… erupting inside of him like a volcano. He was holding you. You were on top of him. He could feel every swell in your body, every subtle shake of your laughing shoulders. He could count the freckles on your back. He could feel your hand placed gently atop his. The rear end that he’d deliberately avoided ogling at was now nestled securely in his lap and it threatened to utterly destabilize him.

“Maker, we botched that one didn’t we?” you chortled as you shifted your hips and tumbled off of him, rolling onto your back beside him and nudging the now shattered lantern out of your space. “I think I lost the whole rod.”

He attempted to clear the shock from his throat, yet his lungs seemed to be completely void of the breath required to complete the task and nothing but a strangled choke left his lips. His skin was on fire. Spiked adrenaline was threatening to set his hands atremble. Surely this is how he would die… lovesick to the point of suffocation. Not falling from a towering height like his nightmares had always imbued him with, but laying side by side with someone who he cared for so deeply that even breathing felt like a challenge.

“Thanks for saving my ass, Wrecker,” you spoke, nestling your head against his arm.

You shifted your gaze to look upward at him, that beguiling twinkle in your eyes somehow even brighter now that the lantern had been extinguished; those stunning glassy orbs sending his mind spinning near-painfully as he fought to find the cognition to answer you.

“You’re… you’re ass—” he stammered, feeling his face burn red hot. “I mean, you’re welcome!”

A delicate snort was your knee jerk response, and the silence that ensued afterward was so stifling… so insufferable… that Wrecker was half a heartbeat away from clambering to his feet and pitching himself headfirst into the water to escape the embarrassment.

“Wrecker…” you mumbled suddenly, breaking into his panicked thoughts. “Why did you come find me tonight?”

“Because…” he started quietly after swallowing heavily. “Well because I— I wanted to see you.”

“Do you maybe want to see me more often?”

He snapped his head in your direction, brows furrowed together as the implications of your questions flitted into his brain. “I want to see you all the time,” he answered, his gaze betraying him by darting back and forth between your eyes and your smiling lips.

“Me too.”

His lips fell open as those freckled cheeks drew nearer, your sparkling eyes disappearing as your lids fluttered closed. He froze, his own sight disappearing as your hand reached forward and cupped around his jaw, your lips descending slowly and tenderly onto his. An explosion unlike anything he’d ever crafted went off in deep in the part of his stomach where only the deepest and most intense feelings emerged; euphoria had him utterly floating. There was simply nothing else. No one else. No fish in the sea. No stars in the sky. Nothing but the warmth of your hands on his skin, and the gentle swipe of your tongue along his lip. His hand found the curves of your body without coherent thought, pausing to linger at the curve of your hip for only a moment before trailing softly up your back until his fingers wove themselves into your hair.

But it was over before it began. You pulled from him abruptly, head snapping around as three more rods suddenly began to whir and noisily unravel their tightly coiled spools of line. “Oh, Maker,” you sighed. “How about you reel them in this time, and I’ll net and tank them?” you proposed.

“Deal,” Wrecker answered, shaking his head in complete disbelief as you stood up and darted towards the farthest rod.

ragu list: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @starrylothcat @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @echoqk @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @moonlightwarriorqueen @starstofillmydream @trixie2023 @mooncommlink @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz

[thienvaldram]

My own for fun fleshing out of the idea posited by Jonathan Morris that the other voices Xoanon adopts in the Face of Evil are forgotten incarnations plucked from the Doctor's subconscious.

Specifically played by Pamela Salem, Rob Edwards, Anthony Frieze and Roy Herrick.

The First Xoanon Doctor (Pamela Salem)

This incarnation was posted on Earth by her request, as part of the Time Lords solidifying of the Web of Time as history, arriving in the era of the First World War. Upbeat and playful, she had a knack for outmanoeuvring her opponents even in spite of the cultural pushback against the form this incarnation took. She also often came across as anachronistic due to a lack of understanding of the culture of the era of this planet that she was assigned to. She, however, was occasionally prone to seeing humans more as interesting specimens than individuals in their own right.

The Second Xoanon Doctor (Rob Edwards)

Coming across as an eccentric but kindly Professor-like figure, wearing a scruffier version of a formal outfit. This incarnation took up teaching on Earth. He was heavily interested in the idea of luck as an external force and wore a clover on his lapel to represent that. He was prone to meddling in events outside his purview, but only subtly, within his remit as an agent of the Time Lords and thus often employed luck or what appeared to be luck as a ‘weapon’ of sorts in said situations, despite his pleasant exterior he was capable of doing almost anything if he thought it would benefit the ‘greater good’. He was the first incarnation to meet the Abbot.

The Third Xoanon Doctor (Anthony Frieze)

This incarnation lived for a long time, aging up from a child to an adult. He spent a lot of his time on Gallifrey, getting involved in the internal politics of the planet as an advocate for the Non-Intervention policy. He regretted the meddling his immediate predecessor was prone to, though he still returned to Earth to observe the planet and would occasionally intervene if he found a situation significant enough to warrant it. He was brash and abrasive, and had a superiority complex, but still was a kind-hearted person when the chips were down. He met his end in service to Gallifrey in the midst of a Time War.

The Fourth Xoanon Doctor (Roy Herrick)

A calmer, younger, mellower incarnation. This Doctor prided himself on his moral compass, whilst he still acted as an agent for the Time Lords, he treated the role as secondary to his interest in the planet Earth and its people. He was granted an official remit to travel across the Universe, rather than just the history of the planet he was observing, as a result of a great service to Gallifrey during his early life. He was also one of few early incarnations of the Doctor who contemplated any form of relationship with a human, though he ultimately never went through with it. Despite this, he still maintained a wide social network in the era to which he was assigned.

(Did an amateur artwork, also including headcanons for the 'eras' under the assumption of them directly preceding the Morbius Doctors from Forgotten Lives)

[planetwebit012]

We are The Web Architects & We Believe in What We Do. From Mesmerizing Websites To Curated Software Solutions, Be it Anything, Our Team is Ready for You!

[sensualnoiree]

6th house astro notes

The 6th house in astrology embodies the essence of daily life, service, and routines, often depicted as the unglamorous yet crucial backdrop to our existence. This house governs our work environment, daily tasks, health, and the intricate web of responsibilities that structure our lives. Its domain extends from our occupations and co-workers to our dedication to health, hygiene, and the sometimes-overlooked duties that form the fabric of our routines. Also, our pets or familiars.

Imagine the 6th house as a framework that sustains our everyday lives—a canvas on which the mundane chores, health habits, and work obligations are painted. It's the stage where our efforts to maintain our well-being and functionality take center stage, emphasizing the role of routine, structure, and discipline in our existence.

This house underscores the significance of our occupational landscape—our co-workers, employees, and the services we receive or provide. It also encompasses our interaction with healthcare providers, therapists, and mentors who guide us in our personal development and career growth. The 6th house sheds light on the intricate network of individuals who contribute to our daily lives and well-being.

Astrologically, the 6th house, associated with the sign of Virgo, prompts us to embrace a meticulous and analytical approach to our routines and responsibilities. It urges us to prioritize the maintenance of health, work ethics, and the cultivation of productive habits. The position of planets in this house or influencing its ruler provides insights into our approach toward work, health management, and our ability to handle day-to-day tasks efficiently.

Moreover, the 6th house symbolizes resilience and adaptability in the face of challenges. It represents our capacity to endure, recover from setbacks, and navigate crises—highlighting our ability to persist through difficulties and setbacks that arise in our daily lives.

Historically, the 6th house has been considered a house of challenge or struggle, often termed a malefic house in traditional astrology. While modern interpretations may lean toward a more positive portrayal, acknowledging its potential for growth and transformation through crises, the fundamental message remains consistent: the 6th house signifies a terrain where perseverance, resilience, and adaptability play key roles.

Furthermore, this house urges us to cultivate a balanced approach to work, health, and daily responsibilities. It emphasizes the importance of maintaining a routine that harmonizes our physical well-being, work commitments, and personal responsibilities—a balance that, when achieved, contributes significantly to our overall sense of fulfillment and stability.

In essence, the 6th house may not carry the allure of grandeur or profundity found in other astrological realms, but its significance lies in the way it shapes the practicalities of our lives. It beckons us to honor the discipline of routine, appreciate the value of service and diligence, and recognize the importance of maintaining our health and well-being amid the ebb and flow of everyday life. It's the house that reminds us of the profound significance embedded within the ordinary, mundane, and sometimes challenging aspects of our existence.

For more info head over to my blog! 🤸🏿‍♀️or follow me here! ✨

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

TODAY (July 14), I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! NEXT SATURDAY (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

#20yrsago RIAA’s INDUCE Act letter deconstructed https://corante.com/importance/the-excessively-annotated-riaa-letter-on-the-induce-act-iica/

#20yrsago Lou Reed wants remixes https://web.archive.org/web/20040804104424/https://www.billboard.com/bb/daily/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1000577588

#20yrsago ICANN emancipate domain owners from scummy registrars https://web.archive.org/web/20040722061910/http://www.byte.org/blog/_archives/2004/7/14/105552.html

#20yrsago Disney’s $80 million mistake: Fahrenheit 911 https://web.archive.org/web/20040804183640/https://www.technicianonline.com/story.php?id=009702

#20yrsago Druid busted for possession of a sword https://mg.co.za/article/2004-07-13-swordpacking-druid-appears-in-court/

#15yrsago Michael Jackson didn’t sell 750 million records https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB124760651612341407

#15yrsago Phones confiscated at preview screenings: whose hypothetical risk is more important? https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2009/jul/14/mobile-phones-and-movie-security

#15yrsago Visa claims teen spent $23,148,855,308,184,500.00 on prepaid credit card https://web.archive.org/web/20090716125509/https://consumerist.com/5314246/unruly-teen-charges-23-quadrillion-at-drugstore

#10yrsago Freedom of info funnies: CIA cafeteria complaints https://www.muckrock.com/news/archives/2014/jul/14/doc-note-cia-cafeteria-complaints/

#10yrsago Economist examines empirical evidence of file-sharing on box-office revenue https://web.archive.org/web/20140816180401/http://conference.nber.org/confer/2014/SI2014/PRIT/Strumpf.pdf

#10yrsago Understanding #DRIP: new spy powers being rammed through UK Parliament https://web.archive.org/web/20140711071612/https://www.openrightsgroup.org/campaigns/no-emergency-stop-the-data-retention-stitch-up

#10yrsago Tesla’s “car-as-service” versus your right to see your data https://appliedabstractions.com/2014/07/14/elon-i-want-my-data/

#10yrsago Scalia may have opened path for Quakers to abstain from taxes https://www.salon.com/2014/07/14/scalias_major_screw_up_how_scotus_just_gave_liberals_a_huge_gift/

#10yrsago Unions considered helpful (economically) https://stumblingandmumbling.typepad.com/stumbling_and_mumbling/2014/07/unions-productivity-.html

#10yrsago Hearings into mass surveillance begin in UK https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2014/jul/14/court-gchq-surveillance-tempora-ipt-nsa-snowden

#10yrsago Everyone hates the NSA: survey https://web.archive.org/web/20140715012054/http://www.pewglobal.org/2014/07/14/nsa-opinion/table/country-citizens/

#10yrsago GCHQ’s black bag of dirty hacking tricks revealed https://web.archive.org/web/20140714190448/https://firstlook.org/theintercept/2014/07/14/manipulating-online-polls-ways-british-spies-seek-control-internet/

#10yrsago Snowden: #DRIP “defies belief,” could have been dreamed up by NSA https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/jul/13/edward-snowden-condemns-britain-emergency-surveillance-bill-nsa

#5yrsago Florida DMV makes millions selling Floridians’ data…for pennies (and you can’t opt out) https://www.wxyz.com/news/national/florida-is-selling-drivers-personal-information-to-private-companies-and-marketing-firms

#5yrsago #TelegramGate: leaks show Puerto Rico’s appointed officials mocking the dead as hurricanes devastate the island https://web.archive.org/web/20190714004011/https://abcnews.go.com/International/wireStory/puerto-rican-chief-financial-officer-resigns-chat-scandal-64318436

#1yrago Why they're smearing Lina Khan https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

[dynared]

Random thoughts on the Earthspark cancelation and what comes next for the Transformers brand

What a week, huh? So, we got confirmation Earthspark was canceled, Hasbro put the absolute bare minimum effort into their 40th anniversary celebration leading to many people going to the movie theaters expecting Transformers the Movie and not DVD-quality episodes of the TV series with many demanding refunds, and some good news, Transformers from Skybound being nominated for several Eisner awards, the first time a Transformers comic has ever been nominated for the comic book world's Oscar equivalent.

So once again, the brand, the sole surviving Western mecha brand at this point unless that J-Lo movie next week somehow launches a new franchise (doubtful) is at a crossroads, especially with their enduring business partner Paramount in complete turmoil, with more senior executives jumping ship and an official NDA signed between Paramount and Sony yesterday which allows Sony access to Paramount's record-keeping in order to ascertain the value for a bid.

So with all that said, rambling about the franchise under the cut.

Earthspark is done after this season, and it's easy to see why. While many right-wing grifter types will point to the nebulous "wokeness", an ill-defined term at this point that means little besides "bad non-traditional thing", the reasons are pretty simple. Kids weren't interested, the toyline didn't sell, and the show, whether due to being distributed on a streaming service people only get for Sonic stuff and the occasional South Park special, had very poor ratings. If you're making a kids show and you bore the kids, you're done, no matter how "important" you think the stories are. The days of Ted Turner funding Captain Planet out of his own pocket are long gone.

Since Earthspark is dead, but another series is in development, it looks like Hasbro will not be letting the franchise rest for any set period of time. The most likely follow-up for Earthspark is a spin-off of Transformers One similar to what Tales of the TMNT is for Mutant Mayhem after the latter's box-office success. It's a pretty low-risk venture to boot, with the biggest issue being the usual problems with a movie spin-off (lower quality visuals, sound-alikes since you can't pay the celebrity actors to do the voices week in and week out) so long as the movie is a success. It also lets the franchise establish some needed distance from Earthspark's lack of success.

Now, the question of "What if One isn't a success?" definitely is one that Hasbro is contemplating. For all the ragging on Snake-Eyes GI Joe Origins as a box office bomb, Rise of the Beasts was widely viewed by Hollywood as a flop and the lowest-grossing film in the history of the franchise. While a lot of that may be due to the wishy-washy way the continuity has been handled and the inability to commit to a full reboot (Madame Web producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura has been insistent that all the Michael Bay movies are still canon, even though that makes no real sense), if One isn't successful, the franchise may need to step back for a year or two.

Any other new concept for a series that fans have wanted is simply not feasible due to time and budget. With Hasbro joined at the hip with Paramount (apparently Hasbro board members own Paramount stock, hence their desire to keep the relationship going so long as Paramount exists), they don't have access to or funds for numerous studios. Studio Trigger have been asking to do a Transformers show for years now, hence all the shout-outs in stuff like SSSS.Gridman and even Panty and Stocking. Studio Orange's head took to the internet earlier in the week asking to be able to do a mecha show. Neither is getting the call from Hasbro because Paramount would rather use local Western studios and save money.

That of course leads to the final option for an adaptation, a 1:1 or similar of the Energon Universe. The problem with that is simply put, it's way too soon. While it would assuredly get a lot of attention just by putting down "From the creator of Invincible and The Walking Dead" in the promos, animation lead times mean that it would be impossible to do at this point without overtaking the entire stock of comics and either resulting in huge delays between seasons, or filler. Neither of which would be helpful.

So I guess tl:dr - Earthspark bombed not because of a non-binary owl, but because the kids were bored by it, with even the Fox News controversy failing to get the show any real positive attention with its main demographic of families. As horrible for Hollywood as it may be to see Paramount be sold for parts to Sony, it may actually be Hasbro's best bet at making its tie-in brands successful again on the big and small screens. And if One doesn't succeed, they are going to be in big trouble because nothing else is realistically ready yet.

[blaacknoir]

Lonely Avatar Concepts:

A college advisor who urges their advisees to avoid extracurriculars.

The foreman of large warehouse who spends his weekends designing his workers' shifts so that they never see each other.

The librarian who does not allow talking in her library. From anyone.

The absent moderator of a long-standing discord server. Instead of being given participation roles, new users languish away in the limbo of the waiting room, saying nothing.

A cult leader who not only encourages cult members to cut ties with their family, but also discourages relationships with each other.

The creator of an auto-dialling network designed to call elderly people once a week. There is no pre-recorded message. It is simply designed to give them hope that someone hasn't forgotten about them.

A tour guide who leaves his group scattered around the unfamiliar city. He is so animated and outgoing that nobody notices the tour shrinking bit by bit until there are only a few people left.

A telephone line repairman who doesn't fix the lines. Nobody has heard from the families in his service area for years.

Enrico Fermi, Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, and their students and peers.

Those who look up at the night sky, illuminated by more suns than we can possibly comprehend.

Those who reasoned that if there are other suns and other planets, there should be other life.

Those who stare into the gaze into the dark emptiness.

Those who have never heard the sky's strange music

Those who hear only silence instead.

Those who live their lives asking a simple three word question, and and receive only the sound of an empty univse in reply: Where is everyone?

Eye | Flesh | Vast | Spiral | Corruption | Lonely | Web | Buried

[gabsforjustyuris]

Your first mission with Kafka.

The nights were boring and long. When the sun disappeared over the horizon, giving way to the stars, a tired sigh escaped your lips, relieving the weight of your body. The refreshing breeze brought comfort after the scorching midday heat, reframing the events of the past few hours.

The sunset painted the sky with warm tones before surrendering to cold darkness. At these times, living beings are looking for safe shelter to rest, the weight of the day falls on their backs, taking advantage of peaceful rest. As time passed, the vigilance lost its strength, the guards dispersed in the stillness of an emotionless dawn with heavy eyes. 

And with that in mind, it was a predicted point to act. The webs of possibilities for the future were so many that no conclusion could be reached; The future, by nature, is not premeditated, but when it becomes privileged knowledge, planned actions become destiny. To keep the pieces in place, the Stellaron hunters had to take big risks, after all, following Elio's script didn't mean that the laws had to be followed. 

All you had to do was get used to the risks and delve into the depths of your consciousness, thus unlocking any blocks that prevented you from convincing yourself otherwise. Elio was the key, the guide of the rules; Without it, destiny would be a mystery, decisions would inevitably be more difficult, and the answer might never come.

Gifts of this magnitude conflicted with other people's morals. No one would understand what Stellaron's hunters truly are, as they defy common sense, break paradigms, dare to go against a universal law in favor of a destiny that only they know. And you, like everyone else, wouldn't understand if you weren't involved. 

Currently your ship was located near a particular planet, recognized for philosophical debates and majority varieties of representatives of the great modern intelligence. Eluthia, “the planet of the spoiled,” said one of its partners, Silver Wolf.

The goal was simple this time. There are some authorities that must be killed, valuable artifacts that must be cloned, and although these are not words spoken by Elio, Silver Wolf also wanted a recently released device to “fulfill services more efficiently.” Deep down you knew it was about playing those nerdy games, but you didn't mind the thought.

Anyway, you, Kafka and Silver Wolf took care of the work. As for Blade and Firefly, they were busy with their personal matters as usual. The script didn't necessarily need them for this scheme anyway.

For the veteran hunters it was just another mission; for you it was a new world, a new life in which industrial air filled your nostrils and your eyes reflected all the brightness from below. His former home planet was directly linked to this one, bringing painful wounds as it was his first mission. It was not in vain that his lips dried at the sight or his breath hitched in an internal conflict. But if that was indeed fate, then in that case, facing old traditions would be inevitable.

“The princess of the exo-planet became a criminal?”

“Traitor.”

“Although there were rumors about a conspiracy against our government, I’m not surprised they succumbed to their own karma.”

The memories were still fresh, the sounds of war and the smell of blood. But before you know it, they start to disperse more and more when a voice takes your eyes off a fixed point on the splendid view from the terrace. The buildings, ships, gliding cars and arrogant statues filled the capital with class. People were well dressed, the streets were clean and drones in the appearance of bees circulated in flocks from one side to the other.

Until then, you were watching together in silence, until the sound of her voice entered your ears, humming some song that you didn't know how to recognize.

– It's going to be a great night, darling. – The voice of the woman next door appears in her daydreams. Making your eyes blink to return to reality more clearly.

You turned to Kafka, illuminated by the dazzling lights of the tech city. His cape was flapping in the wind, as was his hair tied up in large locks. Their expression seemed light as they both enjoyed the silence to admire the natives of the region. His bangs almost covered his eyes, and his fingers were close to the scabbard of his sword. With cherry lips, she noticed your curious look and turned to you, making a small smile and analyzing your expression.

– Imagine a lucky city stopping everything it's doing to put your face on billboards. All people forget their problems for a moment to recognize your name. – She turns her attention to the streets below, extending one of her hands as if they were covering every corner in the blink of an eye, reflecting a sparkle in her eyes that highlights her excitement. 

– So many petals will be shed for us today. Great art is about to happen. – She inhaled the polluted air and then let it out so lightly.  – You have luck.

– Lucky to be a criminal? – You asked with a touch of sarcasm, attracting a discreet laugh from her.

– No. – He placed one of his feet on the edge of the terrace with his sword in hand, turning his attention to the city. – Lucky your first mission isn't that boring. 

– You like generalized chaos, don’t you? – you commented, crossing your arms and lifting the corner of your lips in a soft smile.

His eyes captured the details of her, from her stoic serenity to the way her hair blows in the wind. In response, Kafka gives him a warm smile, a charming contrast to the coldness of the night. Moving your fingers to comb your hair and eyes meeting yours again; but before the magenta-haired woman can say anything, the moment is abruptly broken by someone's presence.

– Your conversation is cool, but whatever, let's get started, I have more to do. – Silver wolf appears next to Kafka, leaving aside his holographic screens and causing both heads to turn in his direction.

 – Oh, don't be such a killjoy. After Luofu's script I need to stretch my legs. – Kafka says to his companion, turning his eyes to you one last time. – What do you say? Will you join me?

– It depends on what fun is for you. – You respond, causing another laugh from her.

– Whoever eliminates the most soldiers wins. – She turns her back to the view, allowing her eyes to see yours clearly. – Let's see what you're capable of, princess.

She expanded her smile, opened her arms in a defiant invitation, leaned back and took a dive into the air, falling from the huge building. His eyes, although he didn't fear anything would happen, still pursued her figure for a few seconds. By instinct, you held your breath just watching his jumps and maneuvers, fascinated; and it didn't take long until he noticed a less than cautious laugh emerge from the other co-worker, catching his eye and wrinkling his eyebrows at seeing the smug expression.

– What was it? – You asked, confused, giving the shorter girl reason to hold back another laugh.

– Nothing. – She said with a smirk. Pressing some buttons on the device on your arm and, finally, before leaving the material plane and leaving you alone, leaving the implication: – Princess.

                            ______

Security alarms echoed through the white corridors filled with paintings honoring past dictators. Red every two seconds filled everything along with the screeching sound. During the rush to replace the guards, you checked the hat on your head, adjusted the formal clothes mixed with the metallic armor of the IPC employees and took a deep breath, heading the opposite way with hurried steps.

– Left… – She muttered to herself following the mental map she had memorized. – And then left again. – He entered another corridor, until he reached the main doors, barred with codes, passwords and facial scanners.

On the other side, in the security center just in front of unconscious employees, Silver wolf walked towards the main leather chair, slouching in the chair and stretching her arms while chewing her gum, forming a pink bubble. Without much ado, the experienced hacker sat down on the table and started typing with her nimble fingers on the keys, opening several tabs at once.

– Most reinforced communications center in all of Eluthia, hmm? These guys need to update themselves, I've seen better systems. – She states, forming another bubble with the gum, quickly moving her eyes with an indifferent expression on her face.

– Yeah, yeah, whatever, I know everything is so fun there, but can you open the door here, please? – You emphasize your situation through the communication line stuck in the ears of the three of you with a hand on your waist and a serious expression on your face.

With simple and precise keystrokes, processing quick information, the hacker moves one of the different tabs to the corner, pressing the virtual button, warning you: – Main room security disabled.

The lock latches click with a loud confirming sound. You take a deep breath, relieved, and move forward, stretching your hands to open the door and find yourself in a dark room. The lights come from above, focusing only on the valuable pieces protected by glass on small columns, all reflecting the brightness in a way that makes them stand out even more.

You concentrated, closing your eyes and making a symbol with your hand to conjure your power to spread icy mists throughout the room. This movement caused all the camouflaged detection lasers to reveal themselves, visibly showing all the hidden traps.

– Apparently this is going to take a while… – You say, stretching your limbs to prepare. 

The objective was to reach them one by one and copy their material fingers to form perfect replicas, but to do so, patience would have to be a virtue...

                           ______

“Security alert! Calling all guards! Kafka is here! I repeat, Kafka is here!”

All troops were directed to the expansive main hall of the museum, where the country's two politicians had been brutally mercilessly killed by the assassin sought by the entire cosmos. Several drones and employees surrounded her from every corner so she couldn't escape. Holographic banners spread throughout the city with her face, all citizens, including those who didn't know her, had the pleasure of seeing the feat.

And she didn't care about it, to be honest. Kafka just gently adjusted one of his gloves while watching everyone around with an arrogant smile on his face. Your heart accelerated slightly, a feeling of adrenaline rising through your veins every second.

– Well, well, well... if it isn't the great authorities gathered into one... place. – He snapped his fingers, half-closing his eyes and activating all the neon pink control wires blocking the troops. Soon after that, they took out their machine guns and started shooting everywhere.

He dodged blows, performed acrobatics, quick and lethal movements, throwing and drawing his sword, dealing with all the soldiers who tried to advance towards him at once, while others were able to hit each other thanks to the control of the static wires.

The three of you acted in different locations with great agility. You collected data from each piece, while Silver Wolf controlled the exits, doors, cameras and some drones. At the same time, Kafka distracted everyone with his grand spectacle. All of this running simultaneously.

– Collection completed – You tell Silver Wolf.

– Okay, preparing the exits.

Of course you wouldn't be left out of this after the attractive woman's challenging invitation. Entering the main hall, you had the privilege of being able to see her in real time in action, moving harmoniously with the chaos installed, facing several hordes as if it were nothing.

You ran and joined her, providing cover with your powers to summon spirits from your most-like silhouette. Combining powers of ice and teleportation, they constantly disappeared and reappeared, fighting with ice swords. It passed enemies through walls, cutting them in half and burying them in the ground. In addition to that, you can also participate with your two swords, completing the great slaughter.

– Thirty-seven. – She said, focused on the enemies, but soon turned to you as soon as she felt her back collide, smiling and continuing. – Thirty-nine.

The two of you couldn't move away, fighting the army in perfect sync. When one saved the other, they took the opportunity to provoke each other, transforming each moment into a dangerous and exciting dance.

– Be careful, Princess. – She said in a hoarse and breathless tone, winking at you right after shooting a bee drone that was approaching from behind. – I would hate to see these guys ruin your pretty face.

Soon after, you create ice daggers in your hands and throw them at Kafka, making the woman dodge to hit a man who approached her unprotected back. 

– And I would hate to think that this would be our last meeting. – You retort, offering an audacious smile while looking intensely into his eyes before returning to the battle.

Bullets resonated, armor was broken, disfigured limbs; The huge slaughter seemed to have no end. When everything seemed out of control, the great final blow was struck. One immense beast with intense red eyes, shining in the darkness, tormented those who were sensitive.

Robotic wasps followed coordinated tracks while the bear's claws spines shiver, tearing clothes and dismembering one of his mercilessly in an attempt to hit the impostors. He seemed invincible, impenetrable, a machine of mass destruction, capable of containing

Kafka's spontaneity, which seemed to have no choice but to express your full potential.

From the moment the alarm sounded, all the exits were reinforced, but thanks to the silver wolf, those heavy dams were slowly opening. The bear suffered significant damage no matter how resistant it was, thanks to its icy spirits and Kafka threads, devising quick strategies to hit the monster in columns that supported the place, submerging the creature beneath the rubble that fell more and more, threatening the lives of everyone trapped inside the museum.

You were already starting to feel sluggish, your body weakened as tiredness set in and your eyes became heavy. His open mouth inhaled and released all the dust with difficulty, feeling the irritation in his throat and the pain in his head throbbing along with the constant rhythm of his heart. 

Soon you felt a hand grab your wrist activating your senses causing you to turn around in an impulse to attack, but you were soon stopped with a strong grip, trapping both armed hands. His eyes meet the pink ones, abruptly blurring all the chaos in the background. 

– That's right, look at me. – It was Kafka, in an attempt to calm you down, despite the agonizing sound of soldiers and machines being crushed by the roof of the building and burning parts at the bottom emitting a toxic gas into the air.

Listen. We need to get out of here. You know who I am and you know why we are here. Just follow me and everything will be fine. 

Her words move you, as if it were a universal phrase that even on the verge of collapse you would understand. Her hand loosened its grip and reached up until it reached your face, gently stroking it.You looked into her eyes, breaking your guard, lost in her transparent pupils beneath the lens. Swallowing hard, you just nodded and let her guide you the rest of the way.

Silver Wolf had cleared a single safe route towards the base, so the two of you quickly escaped, blending into the crowd on the populated streets. The holographic bands shone in the sky, displaying the image of their faces, intensifying the urgency of the escape.

– Quick, this way. – She pulled you into a narrow alley, a tight hiding place that gave them a brief moment of respite while the army continued their relentless search.

Your bodies were practically glued together, her hands resting firmly on either side of you. She cast quick, curious glances out of the alley before looking back at you with a smile appearing on her lips.

– I told you it wouldn't be boring, hmm? – She commented, with a light tone of voice. You returned a soft smile, leaning your head against the wall and looking up at the sky.

– I don’t think I’ve ever lost my breath so much in one night. – You closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath, not bothered by the intense gaze of the woman in front of you, who seemed to study every detail of your face in a comforting silence.

– I highly doubt that. – She broke the silence with a laugh, provoking a spontaneous reaction on her part: a light pat on her shoulder.

– This is not the time for that. – You say, letting out a relaxed laugh. – You’re deluding yourself for nothing, you know that, don’t you?

– Oh? Then I think I misheard what you told me a few minutes ago.

– That was just for the moment, I wasn’t counting.

– Was it not?

– No, I was not. – You stated, giving her a few seconds to analyze your face again, giving in to another laugh, amused.

– I see.

After a moment, she displays a simplistic yet audacious smile, advancing towards you, implying that she is aiming for your lips. Your restless fingers longed to squeeze her arms and waist, or wrap your arms around your neck, but something inside you refused to give in and feed that playful ego. No, this time you wouldn't lose. Not for that husky voice that resonated in your ears, or those sweet lips attracting you like an irresistible magnet, or his fingers that, damn, just imagining…

She was so close now, the tension between the two of you was palpable, almost electric. The need to maintain control clashed with the desire that was growing in his chest. Kafka was usually so self-assured, so imposing in front of you that your legs would shake when she adopted a more serious tone. His advance was precise and direct, but for some reason, that kiss never came, dashing his hopes. 

You could feel her lips almost touching yours, her breath blowing softly against your skin. The smell of her lipstick invaded his senses, and heat inevitably rose through his body. She was so close that it seemed inevitable, but still, something stopped her. Desire pulsed between you, like a flame ready to ignite at any moment. Every fiber of your being yearned for that touch, but you knew that giving in would mean losing the control you worked so hard to maintain.

And unfortunately for you, drawing your limits with that greedy smile and your precious eyes. She positions herself, getting closer to her ear. With a light bite, she whispered seductively:

– You'll need to be more than that if you want to beat me, princess. But it was a good try.

And then, she walks away soon after, turning her back to you. Before climbing the stairs that led to the terrace, she casts a provocative look over her shoulder, leaving you with a pulsing mixture of desire and frustration.

– What are you waiting for? We still need to escape, you know. – Her voice woke him up again. Taking you from the confines of the dreams that passed through your eyes, flooding your mind with inappropriate scenes, which in a way, made a rosy tone emerge on your cheeks. 

Damn, this woman…

[kp777]

The Guardian Opinions

Aug. 4, 2023

Antarctica is currently experiencing dramatic changes at unprecedented rates, marked by repeated extreme events. These include circum-Antarctic summer heatwaves and an autumn heatwave last year, with temperatures soaring up to 40C above the average. Moreover, both last summer and this winter, sea ice extent has reached record lows. These changes have happened even faster than scientists predicted.

These changes coincide with a broader global pattern of extreme air and sea surface temperatures, wildfires, floods, disease and other events deeply impacting ecosystems and society. Scientists have warned society about global climate change and its impacts since the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s first report in the early 1990s. The Antarctic community has done so repeatedly too. These warnings are now being realised.

Antarctica is a crucial component of the Earth system and a sentinel for growing change. As Antarctic scientists, we see the evidence of mounting change, including changes in food webs, rapid change in populations, breeding failure and local ecosystem collapse, with projections of rapid transformation of a region that makes our planet liveable and contributes in extraordinary ways to global biodiversity.

This is a critical moment, impacting our well-being, future generations and ecosystems globally. Confronted by this evidence, we urgently call on nations to intensify and exceed their current commitments to greenhouse gas emissions reductions. An immediate increase in ambition is required to reach net zero and to go beyond it. Pledges are not enough.

The events unfolding in Antarctica have not been restricted to the continent. Record after record has been broken over the past few years for heatwaves, wildfires, floods and droughts across the globe. Diseases such as avian influenza (H5N1 bird flu), which has touched 81 countries over the last two years, also pose significant threats. The IPCC and the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services have reported change across the planet, impacting society, infrastructure, populations, species, ecosystems and the natural world on which humans are entirely dependent.

Simultaneous changes in the Antarctic and Southern Ocean, and elsewhere around the globe, reflect the intimate connection between Antarctica and the rest of the Earth system. Our lives and our future depend on a healthy and functioning Antarctica. As a result, Antarctica’s unsettling changes provide a warning to us and an opportunity. That opportunity rests in recognising that, if we safeguard Antarctica, if we slow down change there and eventually stop it, we help provide a future for ourselves, our families and our livelihoods. Doing so requires political will and the engagement of civil society. But it also demands the contributions of scientists to help us face what is coming, to understand the consequences of our actions, to develop new approaches for mitigating and adapting to change, and to help us understand the risks we face and over what timescale. It is clear that the community of biologists meeting in Ōtautahi Christchurch is doing what it can, and is standing ready to do more. They hope that political leaders will listen to them and take action.

During a recent gathering of experts from over 20 countries in Ōtautahi Christchurch, a multitude of attendees unveiled groundbreaking findings, pointing to remarkable transformations within Antarctic species, populations and ecosystems. These revelations were accompanied by expressions of genuine concern and, in some instances, astonishment at the rapidity of these system-wide responses.

The Scientific Committee on Antarctic Research’s (Scar) biology symposium was enriched by addresses by Sir Tipene O’Regan and Dr Michael Stevens, noted Māori historians, of Ngāi Tahu who both emphasised the importance of Māori historical connection with the Southern Ocean as well as concerns and aspirations for its future.

The scope of the unusual occurrences in Antarctica extends beyond just biological systems. Other records have been shattered, with this year witnessing sea ice levels plummeting to unprecedented lows according to the satellite record. Last year an alarming, widespread heatwave hit large areas of Antarctica, causing, at some locations, a 35-40C temperature rise above long-term averages. Extreme temperature events have been observed in various other parts of the continent, including the Antarctic peninsula.

As the symposium conference unfolded and the research findings were laid bare, a sense of apprehension permeated the scientific community present. In response to the emerging data, the attending scientists felt compelled to issue a collective communique, expressing deep-seated concerns regarding the escalating environmental challenges unfolding across the Antarctic continent.

We have a narrow window for change. Events in the Antarctic we have observed and catalogued, and the projections from our research suggest that the window is closing fast.

The time for critical action is right now. What we do today will determine our future for centuries. We all deserve a brighter future. Together, we can make a difference.

This communique was written by the following scientists on behalf of the delegation at the Scar biology symposium: Prof S Craig Cary, University of Waikato, Prof Steven Chown, Monash University, distinguished Prof Sharon Robinson AM, University of Wollongong, Dr Charles Lee, University of Waikato, assistant Prof Cassandra Brooks, University of Colorado Boulder