#powers of ten

[vertigoartgore]

Krakoa's Quiet Council by Mike Deodato Jr. (Powers of X #1 cover).

[wetgeliscasualinterval]

Powers of Ten and the Relative Size of Things in the Universe (1977) by Charles & Ray Eames

[dramaturgically-strong]

enhance

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enhance! enhance! ENHANCE GODDAMMIT

at base, the universe is unknowable

[futurebird]

All The Worlds We Know (so far)

No exoplanets (planets not in this solar system) had been confirmed with data until the 1990s, although everyone thought they must exist. We have since found 100s of exponents, most ... very large.

Nearly all of the exoplanets we have discovered are in the little circle on this map.

[er-cryptid]

Powers of Ten

Patreon

[senderosquesebifurcan]

Preparing the Environment

One of the tenets of Montessori pedagogy is the "prepared environment". This means that the person in charge of the environment (in a school the guide, in a home the caregiver) has prepared it ahead of the arrival of the child so that when they arrive it offers them pathways to explore, learn and grow that do not require direct adult mediation.

I spend a lot of offline time, when no students are present, preparing the environment. So that it's ready. So that when they get there, they can get to work and it literally does not require me. This preparation has so many facets. Setting up the tables in such a way as to encourage sharing work and collaborating. Making sure the materials are present and organized in a way that makes sense and can be put away by them. Are there enough rubber bands, enough paper, enough pairs of scissors? Enough, but not too many (never one for each learner, except maybe graphite pencils) -- again to encourage sharing and collaboration. Too much of any material leads to a disregard for it. It's not that materials should be scarce. It's that they are precious, and their use should be intended and intentional. Tools and materials must be clean, in good working order and - here's the most evanescent of the environment preparation tenets - inviting and pleasingly arranged.

I put an alligator skull on the shelf. I tilt it. I take it away. I put it next to the cow skull. Remove it. Look at the shelf again. Think about what the specimens are for and how they are used. Put the alligator skull back. Take three steps away from the shelf. Crouch to kid height. Look. Yes. That is inviting. Pleasing. Beckons the imagination. Now, I look at the next shelf. I have thirty six more shelves to do.

It takes time. Energy. Thoughtfulness. And because it is invisible, behind the curtain, no one knows it happens. But it is essential.

Yesterday as I was working on the room a friend and colleague arrived and asked to look around. In a moment, a person she was meeting at school arrived. A person who had never been in our school or in a Montessori elementary environment. Like many as they arrive (I see this often on tours) he stepped into the room and his eyes lit up. "Oh this is nice," he said. Yes. It is intentionally so. His eyes roamed the room, fell on a book on a display stand: Powers of Ten. (It's a fabulous book, based on this movie:).

Once his eyes hit the book, he walked over and began to babble excitedly. He had seen the video and was explaining how incredible it was, how eye-opening, how cool. I invited him to look at the book, to pick it up and touch it. He spent a quiet minute leafing through the book, sharing it with the friend.

When the environment is prepared, it inspires, enlightens, invites. Montessori talked about it as seducing the child, and that has some unfortunate connotations that she would not intend, but the effect is real, and it doesn't only work on children.

I love this part of the work. I was prepared for it by the many years I spent writing, I think. It is solitary and requires all my best brain cells in top form, but it is both essential and invisible.

[sylvies-kablooie]

i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.

[shallowseeker]

Happy Valentine's Day!

❤️💐🥀🌻🌺🌹

Gratitude for the seemingly insignificant—a seed—this plants the giant miracle. - Ann Voskamp

[vira-with-no-v]

That’s called fashion, babe

[bunnieswithknives]

Dev this is serious stop beatboxing.

[egophiliac]

still absolutely losing my mind over Lilia

[ym-log]

POWERS OF TEN

[game-grumps-captions]

Happy pride month to Arin Hanson and this moment specifically

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[pigeonleap]

sry for quality i cant find a way to export things nicely from freeform but here's a leafpool phone doodle from the plane :-P (anatomy is Jankaayyyy but i can only do so much man i have an iphone 12 mini my finger takes up half the screen)

"If it's meant to be then it will be (oh, oh) So I met him there and told him I believe (oh, oh) Singing, "If it's meant to be then it will be" (it'll be) I forgive it all as it comes back to me (back to me, oh)"

Sun Bleached Flies by ethel cain. SOOO leafpool do you ever think about leafpool my friend leafpool