#solar machinery

[solartive]

Building a better, more eco-friendly world with solar energy. Solartive is a renowned brand where we manufacture solar water pumps that not only run on the cleanest energy but are also highly sustainable.

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[immortalmetalswelding]

Immortal Metals

Website: https://immortalmetals.com/

Address: 10410 66th St N Unit 2, Pinellas Park, Florida 33781, USA

Immortal Metals, a family-owned business led by Travis and Adelyn, specializes in custom metal fabrication and welding. With over 18 years of experience, they offer a range of services for residential, commercial, and industrial needs, including custom metal structures, welding, machining solutions, and heavy machinery repair. Their commitment to quality craftsmanship and personalized service makes them a prominent choice in Pinellas County, Florida.

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[balajiswitchgears]

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A step closer to Sustainability.

BSPL installed Solar Panel to various states across India for solar water pumping system.

Buy from the EXPERT

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Mail: mktgindia@balajiswitchgears.com

[factual-fantasy]

So yesterday I finished drawing the Ingo and Emmet reunion comic and I was just about to post it..

But I changed my mind at the last second. Looking back it was much lower in quality when compared to Ingo's disappearance comic..

Now don't worry! I still plan to post their reunion! But I want to go back and draw it again. This time fixing all the things I found wrong with the first pass and really take my time on the expressions.

One of the things that needed fixing in that comic was Elesa's house/ranch. <XDD The interior was lackluster, the background behind Emmet was super lame, and I had no idea of the houses layout!

So I took a step back and tried to work out some concept sketches for Elesa's property and home interior.

For starters, Elesa lives in the Dry Reef and has a lot of extractors and solar panels all over the place. She's big on the unique ores of this planet and has a HUGE lab that is half way buried into the side of a cliff! :00

The interior of her house is suppose to be super homey and cozy. In stark contrast to all the cold metal and machinery that are all over her ranch. I didn't draw it here but there's intended to be a space where Ingo, Emmet and Skyla can all sleep over.

In order for me to draw the reunion comic I really need to nail Elesa's interior, so that's what I plan to work on mostly. This all needs some more refining I think.. but its a good start! I have higher hopes for the reunion remake :))

[katakaluptastrophy]

Last night I saw a comment on a cosplay video about how different John Gaius and Abigail Pent are as characters and this has been floating round my head like a screensaver, so have some jumbled thoughts.

Obviously, yes, Abigail and John are hugely, hugely different.

But...

There's a superficial link, to Harrow: they're the two people her parent trauma specifically latches onto in HTN. You know, the mother and father that were willing to pay a terrible price and break the apparent laws of nature for love of the Ninth? This will be important later. Harrow fixates on Abigail's hands, and the only memory we get from her of Pelleamena is of her hands guiding young Harrow's as she learned necromancy. And when Jod tries to touch Harrow, she immediately links it to her memory of her father (and of being handed a noose...).

But on another level, there's something else. Academics whose research brought them into a position of ambiguous heterodoxy? Notable in a peer group of matched sets for being the one that doesn't quite fit the norm? Active collectors of found family? Yes, but let's think back to Harrow's parents now. Who were willing to pay a terrible price and break the apparent laws of nature for love.

Abigail Pent risked the total and final destruction of her own soul, and while dead herself and without blood or offering summoned an impossibly ancient ghost through the sheer force of someone else's enthusiasm, despite the fact that, in her own words: "it shouldn't have worked." And all to help a frightened teenager that she met once at a dinner party.

John Gaius sacrificed the whole of humanity and the solar system for what he tells himself is his love for the earth. And continues to funnel the whole machinery of empire towards revenge for the earth.

There is, of course, one fundamental difference: Abigail put herself on the line, John anyone and anything but him.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 5

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: I’m trying something new here—been reading The Shining by Steven King and I like how the “thoughts” are presented :)

warnings: general angst

word count: 5,414

-Part 4- -Part 6-

Sharp, caramel eyes latch to your own from across the room.

Beneath his fingertips rest the planets of your solar system, whirring softly as they rotate, cogs clicking together. Your orrery.

Shoulders tense—it’s fine machinery, incredibly delicate. You don’t like the idea of him being so close to something so dear to you. He hasn’t proven to be particularly caring, or thoughtful. Anxiety closes around your throat. “Eris,” you greet, moving forward stiffly. “What are you doing here?” Why is he in the House of Wind, in the heart of the Night Court. Why is he in Velaris.

He taps against your world, the mechanical clicking coming to a stop, the system halting to his will. Retracts his hand. “You’re really kept out of the loop, aren’t you?” He asks, eyes gleaming, fingertips grazing the blade at his hip. Your brow narrows, “that’s not an answer.” You eye him warily, how close he is to that precious gift your sister had given you.

Lips lift into that familiar viper’s smile, “I’m here to have a meeting with your High Lord and Lady. I’m surprised they didn’t tell you. Surprised too you’re allowed near me at all after our last encounter—do they not particularly mind your safety?” He inquires, moving around the kitchen table. You shift in response, mirroring his movements, the opening steps to a dance you’re uninterested in.

“I live here,” you counter, “why should I yield my ground to you. It’s my home.” He quirks a neatly groomed brow, taking another step around the table, so you’ve switched positions. “You don’t live with the rest of your lovely family? Your younger sister has a home deeper within this city, but you choose to stay here, in this lonely place?”

“It’s my home,” you repeat, “and I like the quiet. Can you understand that?”

Eris’ brow narrows at the perceived insult, and you move closer to the table, to your orrery. “What sort of nonsense question is that?” He asks sharply.

“You live in a palace, don’t you? Big; spacious? Filled with people and riches?” You ask, narrowing your eyes on the male. His lips quirk, “more riches than you can even comprehend.” Eyes run over you, judgementally, “more beauty, too.”

“Filled with people, I’ll bet,” you say, ignoring the comment with practiced ease. At least Azriel’s helped with desensitising you to such things. “Servants, courtiers, maids. Does your home— Does your father’s palace ever sleep? Do you ever get any peace?”

“If you’re prying to see if there’s a single moment I might be vulnerable to an assassination attempt, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. There isn’t a single person who steps foot in my palace without authorisation.” He replies smoothly, caramel eyes gleaming.

Your lips tilt quietly, “what a lovely cage you live in, Eris.”

He stiffens, then his mouth twists itself into something resembling a smile—too serpentine. “Is this your preferred battleground? Verbal warfare? You’re quite talented at it.” You don’t mistake it for a compliment. “Tell me: which of them taught you to speak like that?”

Your brow dips in confusion. “It’s not warfare—It’s observation. There’s nothing aggressive about it.”

“No? No animosity in your prying? I could have sworn I detected a bite back by the river. Where have your claws gone? Were they clipped just like the hell-cat’s were?” He smiles—unnerving to be faced with it. “Bring them out. We can have ourselves a sparring match.” A hand raises in mocking challenge, beckoning you forward.

Hairs raise at the back of your neck, skin prickling with that itch that lies just below the scratch of your nails. Burning your fingertips. Dangerous. Manipulative. Manipulative.

“And where did you learn?” You fire back. “Who taught you to be so insidious? Or do you know no different?”

Caramel burns into you, charring your insides. “An answer for an answer.”

He’s got you. Knows you won’t rise to his challenge. So you switch methods.

Eyes flick down to the machinery on the table, “it’s very beautiful, isn’t it?”

If he’s caught off guard, he doesn’t show it. Well-accustomed to being on the constant edge. “A waste of time. The tinkerer has simply welded a few cogs and screws together—basic metal work.”

Your gaze rises to his, a hint of amusement within as you take a seat to better peer at the orrery. “You’re trying so hard to make it seem insignificant, yet you were studying our planet, so you’re clearly familiar with its structure.” Fingertips graze across the gilded metal of the sphere, the only one occupying the habitable zone. “I doubt you’ll answer my question, so I can only presume you’re used to hiding your interests.”

“Presume away,” he drawls, “it’s no bother to me.”

“No bother,” you echo, spinning the orrery, cogs ticking, globes rotating smoothly. “You hide like there’s something to be embarrassed about. What’s wrong with being fascinated by the world?” You play with the system, again falling under its spell, admiring the intricate carvings, how the tinkerer has rendered texture into metal—made it appear soft.

“You speak as if you’re knowledgeable of it. How much can you know having only spent two years in our land, feeding off our history?” He counters, stepping toward the table, eyes flicking carelessly over the mechanism. With forced lightness. Your brow furrows as you peer at him, “what’s the meaning of having endless time to discover if you don’t use it? I know about the world because I’ve read about it, and I’ve read about it because I want to know. Two years isn’t long to study something as vast as this, but unlike you, I have time to myself, to do things for myself that I want. And this—” you gesture to the small solar system, “—is what I’m interested in.”

The corners of Eris’ mouth tilt down, stepping finally closer to the table, as if accepting a conversation is inevitable. “And you think it is wise to invest your time in something as academic as this? You think you’ll be allowed to study it? Pursue your interest in it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You counter, absently tracing the rings of one of the planets—how beautiful they are! “I’m immortal now. Why shouldn’t I spend it doing things I like? Not all of us want to be sour and miserable.”

His lips quirk, “you maybe immortal, but you’re also detrimentally female. If you think your sex will not be an obstacle in your study, then you’re much more naive than I thought.”

Your brow dips, “and you’re awfully cynical. The library is filled with books, and is run by females, so no—I don’t think my sex will be an obstacle,” you snap. Take a breath in. He’s good at getting under your skin. You have to remember that’s his game. And you can’t fall for it. Otherwise Azriel will be right.

Eris opens his mouth, and you just know you don’t want to hear whatever rubbish he’s about to spit out. So you divert by returning to your wonderful orrery, “if you had to choose between these two planets to stand on for five minutes—” you point to the globes either side of your own, “—which would you go for? Air shortage aside?”

He rolls his eyes, irritated. “I do not have an interest in your childish device, and I did not come here to be lectured on how great the world is, nor anything beyond it. I have much more pressing things to concern myself with. The fact alone you choose to entertain yourself with knowledge that will never impact anyone is proof of your naiveté.”

You ignore the jab, even if it scratches its nails down your mental walls. “If you set foot on this one—” point to the one further from the centre, “—you would be crushed in seconds. Do you know why?”

The viper’s smile again, “as I have already said, I have no childish infatuation with things beyond my control. You’re wasting your time.”

“This planet,” you carry on, pointedly ignoring him, “spins nearly five times faster than our own, meaning gravity—the stuff that holds us to the—”

“I know what gravity is,” he snaps, fire lighting in his eyes.

You blink, startled by the outburst. He watches you silently. Doesn’t make a move to interrupt you again.

“Meaning the gravity,” you say slowly, waiting for him to jump again. He doesn’t. “…is stronger.” You blink again, but he makes no comment. “As a result, the days there last mere hours. How can that not fascinate you? How many other quirks are out there? Even limiting it to our own planet?”

His caramel eyes narrow. “Careful,” he warns. “People have been put to death for talking as you are.”

You look at him, confused. “People in your court? Why on earth would anyone be killed for this?”

“Regardless of court,” he drawls, as if it’s obvious. “For suggesting something other than the Mother. On grounds of blasphemy. The study of science is inherently rooted against her.”

Eyes widen as you stare at him.

“Is that what’s stopping you?” You ask, incredulously. “You’re a favoured heir to the throne, aren’t you? What good is that title if you’re unable to benefit from it?”

His brow narrows, “there are infinite ways I benefit from it. If you’re too ignorant to figure them out, then it speaks volumes to your wisdom.”

You ignore that, pushing forward. “But Rhys has one in his study—an orrery. It can’t be that serious?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re doubting yourself. “Is it?”

“Hasn’t your sister witnessed first-hand how selective the world can be in who it favours? Did you not listen when I told you your sex would present difficulties?” He says sharply. “If you’re set on remaining ignorant, I see no point in continuing this conversation.”

Spine straightens as you stare at him, surprised.

“If I don’t know something, then explain it to me,” you say quietly. “How can I learn if I don’t know where I’m lacking?”

“It is not my responsibility to educate you,” he snaps. “Neither my responsibility to entertain you with conversation. If you prove to be dull, I have no reason to waste my time on you.”

“I agree it’s not your responsibility to educate me,” you say, frowning, “but if you have knowledge of something I don’t, and refuse to share it, how can you stand there and remain irritated with me? When you have the ability to change that?”

Eris’ lips twist again. “Like I said: it’s a waste of time.”

Your brows curve in frustration and disappointment. “You’d rather allow your irritation to fester than do something to prevent it? If you have a problem, and the means to repair it, but choose not to… Well, it speaks volumes to what sort of High Lord you might be.” As soon as the title leaves your tongue, it smacks back into you, the weight registering in your mind. The male before you really might become High Lord—inherit the power and responsibility that comes with it.

He’ll become responsible for his whole Court—yet prefers inactivity when faced with a problem that does not directly impact him.

“Why spend my energy on something so useless? You are only one person—why should I waste my breath? You clearly have no concept of how important and limited time is to someone in my position, in spite of immortality,” he states coldly, caramel darkening to something icy. “I prioritise matters I deem to be important; you waste your time flicking through old books that would better serve a fire.”

“I’m wasting my time on something I love.” You reply sharply, skin itching again, prickling at your fingertips. Sick of having it looked down on. Of being looked down on.

Lips twist in a faint, serpentine smile, eyes gleaming with predatory focus. He descends into the seat opposite you, moving with the grace of a spider, spiralling down into the centre of his web to meet his prey. Suck it dry; liquidate its insides. “Now that piques my interest.”

You don’t need to look down to know the colour your skin has changed to. You do anyway, eyes widening as you take in the faint, radiant green of your fingertips. You stare silently, noting the iridescence.

“I gather my brother’s mate is a seer, while the hell-cat yielded her power,” his smile is one crafted from centuries of cultivated misery, sharp edges created to keep himself safe. Carving his own bones into weaponry. “Could Rhysand have kept you secret because you have no control over it? Even after all this time?”

You bite down on the fear—it’s the second time it’s sparked up in broad daylight. Out in the open. Where anyone can see. “So persistent with the theory of secrecy,” you manage, voice coming out smooth, for the most part. “Maybe you didn’t know, because my power is nothing. It doesn’t heal, doesn’t hurt—nothing besides a dim light in the dark. It’s utterly useless.”

Eris doesn’t look convinced. “The cauldron wouldn’t give you a meaningless power. You haven’t tried hard enough.”

“Why is it so unbelievable?” You counter, in a hurry to end the conversation so you can return to the cover of your room. “Elain is the only one gifted with a real power. Nesta—” Are you allowed to tell him? He already knows she yielded it, so you see no point in hiding it. “Nesta took something. Ripped it away from the cauldron. Why would I be given anything meaningful?” You ask, and see the interest drain from his eyes. “Out of the four of us, Elain’s the only one with a working power.”

“And that’s why you’ve had so much time to yourself,” he drawls, malice again swimming in his whiskey eyes. “No training to do, nothing useful to preoccupy yourself with. Just steadily draining resources, and researching nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense,” you fire back weakly. “And it’s not heresy either. —nor blasphemy, or whatever name you want to give it to try and convince me it’s wrong.”

His eyes harden, “it denies the power of the Mother. Everything was made when she tipped out the cauldron. Science seeks to disprove that.”

“It shows the beauty of the world!” You insist, vaguely aware of the colour growing more intense as you press your hands into the surface of the table, rising to your feet. “It shows how intricate, and delicately woven it is! The only thing it does is prove there is something out there. How can you look up into the night sky, or gaze across the world, filled with magic, and life, and think any other way?” You argue, pushing the orrery across the table. “There are patterns in our world. Strange, and wonderful patterns, if you know how to spot them. The perfect rotations of our world around the great star, how everything intertwines with one another, like those cogs and screws you were trying to make light of. How can a world be so intricately faceted by chance? There has to be a designer—a creator. The one who set everything in motion to become as it is now.”

Your heart spikes as you think about it—how great she must be. The vastness of her capabilities.

“Science does not deny the existence of the Mother—it allows us to study the depth of her. Or something close to it.”

Eris’ eyes flick down to the solar system that you’ve pushed between his hands—now studying the details. His attention drags back up to you, noting how your pupils have dilated, heart beating quickly, nails digging into the surface of the table, gleaming with iridescence. A slow smile as he makes the connection between your emotions and the glow.

It would be a shame to tell you.

He’ll watch you figure it out for yourself—even if you have to stumble your way to the end.

“You’re skilled with words,” he says at last. “Has anyone told you that?”

You regard him silently, a little taken aback. Almost exhausted from the output of energy. Who knew it could be so tiring sharing an interest. How draining excitement is. “You’re just saying that,” you murmur quietly, fatigue weighing on your tongue from the outburst. You know he’s manipulative. You won’t fall for it.

His smile grows a little wider, into something vaguely normal. “You might even have avoided execution with a speech like that.”

Strangely, it doesn’t feel like he’s lying. It’s not much to go off, not much to rely on. He’s had centuries to perfect this act, would be flawless at it by now. And yet…

And yet. It’s enough for you to believe him. Trust your gut, and it’s telling you he’s being sincere.

Strange indeed.

————

Mor had interrupted almost immediately after, making you spring back from the table, seeing her blonde head appear in the kitchen, eyes hard when they landed on the Autumn Court male.

She’d promptly whisked him away to whichever room they were having their meeting in, and you’d hastily tucked your hands at your back, concealing glowing fingertips from her sharp gaze. You’d hated yourself a little in that moment, for hiding it from her. For not being brave enough to face them head on.

It was nothing compared to the sharp, stabbing laceration in your gut when Eris noted the movement. Offered you a slow, vulpine smile.

It’s been days since then, and every step seems to echo your doom. Every footfall in the hallway, every chirp of voices—you’re convinced they know. Because how much longer is he going to keep it a secret? How long before he asks something from you? Something you can’t give, because you don’t have access to them. To any of them. Not in the way he would like.

A series of knocks is landed to you door, and the book slides from your hands. Yelp when it nearly hits your foot. Feyre really needs to start walking a little louder so things like that don’t happen. You sigh heavily.

“Come in,” you call, hastily collecting up the book, plonking it down atop the precarious stack at your bedside. A small gust of dust motes shoot out from the pages, and you cough, turning to the window. Opening it to invite in the crisp, midday air. Open the curtains a little wider, too.

You turn to face her, here probably to ask you to another dinner. It’s been nearly a fortnight since the last one, when Elain had invited you to the…mortal lands. You really don’t know what to call that part, now.

Hazel cuts into you, air catches in your lungs—maybe it’s the dust.

You stare. Stare, and stare, but he doesn’t morph, or transfigure into your sister. Shadows crawl at his feet, slink over his wings, kept tight to his body. It’s strange to see him so tense.

“What are you…” you trail off, shaking your head slowly. “No.”

Azriel’s mouth purses. Remains in the doorway, not even one step away from the threshold. “We should— I would like to speak with you.” You stare longer; shake your head again.

(you are a proving to be a burden.)

“I don’t… No. I don’t want to,” you manage. “I’m in the middle of something right now.” His eyes flick about the room, and you shift to conceal the books at your bedside. “You don’t look busy,” he says slowly, aware how quickly things can turn sour. “That’s because I’m talking to you,” you reply, equally carefully.

He pauses, eyes once again scanning your room, then, “may I come in?”

Spine goes rigid; his pupils dilate. “I want to clear the air between us,” he supplies. “It would be better to do so in private.” He has a point. Feyre’s added a sound barrier to your room after the mess of last time, but… It’s midday, no one should be here. The only people who occasionally dip in are Elain and Feyre. Nesta doesn’t really…the two of you aren’t as close. “Okay,” you find yourself saying, dipping your head, “but I need to—” you gesture to the clothes on your floor. The general mess.

He nods, throat bobbing before he steps inside, the door clicking behind him as he keeps to the clear spaces on the floor. Few and far between.

You swallow, prying your tongue from the roof of your mouth. “What did you want to… Where do you want to start?” You ask, returning to the far end of your room to push the windows wider—as far as they can go. The breeze plays with strands of your hair, cleaning out the stuffy room, smelling slightly of mildew and parchment. Mostly dust, though.

“Your feelings for me…” he begins quietly, the words blaring throughout the room. “How long have you—”

“You know. Start somewhere else,” you interrupt, nails digging into the wooden frame, nudging the fabric of the curtains with your foot. He pauses, and you remain turned away from him, heart spiking. But he acquiesces.

“Okay…” he breathes heavily, followed by the faint stretch of leather as he folds his arms. Flexes his fingers before doing so. Still, you don’t look at him. “The talk with Eris.” It’s your turn to sigh, shifting on your feet to face him, wind blowing in gently from behind, soothing the heat between your shoulder blades, wrapping your cardigan a little tighter.

You don’t question how he knows about that short chat. Maybe Mor mentioned it—she’s the only one who saw, anyway. And you can’t imagine Azriel would have allowed it to go on that long if his shadows were aware. There’s a sour taste at the back of your throat.

“He just asked why I lived up here, instead of with the rest of you,” you mumble, scanning hastily for something to do. “I just said I liked the quiet, and that’s it.” Fingers grip the hem of a top, carrying it to your bed to fold away. The first of many.

Silence stretches between you, taut and tenuous. Hairs rise at the back of your neck, skin prickling.

“You didn’t mention that last time,” he says slowly, neutrally. Too controlled to be calm.

Your brows draw together. “I didn’t,” you confirm, picking up another top, folding it. It’s slightly out of place, the seams not lining up, and you redo it. Set it above the other. “Why not?” He asks tentatively. “It helps to know exactly things like that.” You stand straighter, looking at him—he does indeed have his arms crossed. Uncrosses them when you face him. Also straightens.

“We haven’t spoken since then,” you say slowly.

Eyes lock briefly when you both connect the dots.

“You’ve spoken with him since?” It’s phrased as a question, but…

Throat rolls, eyes turn away, body following shortly after, grabbing a pile of three garments. Set them on the bed. Hands moving like clockwork.

Head dips in confirmation.

Silence digs deeper. A shovel in a grave mound.

“When we had a meeting?” He asks, voice again taking on that controlled tone. Body coiled tight. Features neutral. “Yeah,” you murmur, “when you had that meeting.” Set the skirt atop the pile.

“And he asked why you live alone?” There’s an implication there. What is it? So many different angles to study it from—not a pleasing thought. “Not directly,” you mumble, “he said it was interesting I chose to live here when Feyre had a house deeper in the city. I think.”

“What you do you mean, you think?” He asks steadily, remaining statue-like in your peripherals.

“It was a few days ago,” you supply. “It didn’t stick with me.” That part didn’t, at least. He nods, reasoning it out in his head. Understandable.

“Was there anything else?” He asks instead. You know he marks the way your shoulders tense, even if you operate otherwise normally. “No,” you mumble, turning away from him, “nothing important.”

“We’ve been over this,” he reminds. “You don’t—…” Sighs. “Just tell me everything, and I’ll decide what’s important.” Why does this keep happening?

“You can’t trust him,” he adds gently, a touch softer than before.

You nod your head quickly, “I know.” Quiet reigns again, and he’s debating something. “Just say it,” you murmur, straightening the stack of books, skittish fingers fumbling with some of the loose papers. You should probably separate them out into a neater pile—they’ll only get more crinkled otherwise.

“I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” he supplies carefully.

“Okay.” Nod once. “I won’t.”

Picture the way his throat rolls, fingers flex at his sides. “Do you really understand why you can’t trust him?”

You pick up a few books from the stack, depositing them on your desk, moving to sort through which ones can be returned to the library. Mentally cataloguing their numbers and titles that correlate with set aisles. “I do,” you say, seeing how that would have been misinterpreted. He does you the courtesy of not asking you to explain it. “So you understand why you have to be careful about what you say. What you let him know,” he reasons softly.

Something heavy settles in your gut at the reminder, but you keep your lips shut.

“Eris is a snake,” he continues. “I can’t stress enough how wary you should be around him. And certainly never by yourself.” Eyes briefly meet over that last part, then your own dart away, returning to organising the catastrophe on your desk. Shifting through papers and diagrams. Charts and catalogues. Star formations and little doodles. “If you give him something, he will find a way to use it. It’s imperative you never let him know anything important.” You look at him over your shoulder, temporarily removing your focus from the lovely books, “what counts as important?”

Azriel sighs, leans against the tall frame of your bed, one shoulder propped against it calmly. He looks relaxed—it’s intentional. A distortion to make things seem fine; to keep you calm.

He raises one hand, gestures between you and him. “Us,” he says, reluctantly. “Things like this—they’re private. Emotional problems, and squabbles or…complications,” he expands. “You can’t let him know about anything like that. If he thinks there’s weakness, or a rift he can exploit, he will.”

Breath catches in your chest, and you snap you attention off him, forcefully reattaching it to the books you’ve laid out. Which pile means what?

“I don’t…” you begin. Swallow. Unstick your tongue. “I don’t know about any of your relations. Within…within Rhys’…” You fumble, unsure how to describe them all.

(Us.)

“Family?” He supplies. “Within your family?”

“No,” you sigh. “Beyond my sisters. I don’t—…I mean, I don’t know what’s going on with Cassian, or Mor, or Amren, either. I don’t—… There’s nothing he can get from me.”

Azriel watches you silently, skin prickling beneath the weight of his focus. “They’re your family, too,” he says gently. Almost tenderly. “Not just Rhys’, or Feyre’s. You’re her older sister, so you’re a part of it all, too.”

(A single pair of pearl earrings.)

Hazel locks with your own, and you release a soft laugh, beams of amusements finally lighting your eyes, mirth building on your mouth. How long has it been since you’ve laughed because of him?

Azriel narrows his eyes, and the laughter dies on your tongue. “Oh.” The word whispers out on an exhale, subconsciously taking a step backward. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, “I thought—” You shake your head. “You’re just saying that.” He remains silent, watching you intently.

“They don’t—,” you fumble. Trying to find the words. “I mean, they—… We’re separate. Me, I mean. I’m not—”

“Yes you are.”

You shake your head, not accepting it. “You can’t expect me to believe that,” you mutter. “I’m not that naive.”

Azriel’s brow furrows. “Granted, you don’t make it easy. But you’re still part of it all.”

“So you—” You’re not sure if you can say it. “You don’t… You see me as family?”

It’s his turn to falter, coming up short. You shake your head in disbelief. “Azriel…”

His eyes narrow as he stares at you. Opens his mouth.

“Don’t,” you murmur. “Let’s just… Let’s stay on track.” Otherwise it’s going to get ugly.

(you are a proving to be a burden.)

Lower lip trembles; you bite it, turning your attention to your desk. He’s quiet for a few moments, and the energy begins to settle.

“Why does family bother you so much?” He asks, quietly.

Breath whooshes from your lungs, and you place both your palms flat on the desk, so tired. “Because,” you sigh, eyelids weighing heavy. Massage the bridge of your nose with both your middle and forth fingers. “The feelings I have for you…those don’t belong to a family member.” Shame heats your cheeks, fingers covering you eyes. How many times do you have to say it?

“Why do you insist on targeting everything I’m uncomfortable talking about?” You ask, softly, hands remaining over your features, muffling you. Because if you don’t divert, he’ll target that, too. “You did the same in the air,” you whisper, “you get hung up on these tiny points and you can’t let them go and it’s…” You don’t know.

“It’s what?” He asks, coldly. Lip trembles at the tone, pushing away the dampness, lowering your hands. “Why do you do it?”

“It’s my job to get the details right,” he replies.

(Is this your preferred battleground? Verbal warfare?)

“I’m not your job, Azriel.”

“You are when you run off and have unmonitored chats with that male.”

“Eris, or Bas?” You ask quietly.

(You’re quite talented at it.)

He falters, then his jaw ticks, the muscle feathering. “We’ll talk about Bas in a minute,” he says. “For now, we’re talking about how you behave around Eris.” You stare at him. Blink. “I don’t know how to make it clearer,” he continues, watching the ceiling, head tipped upward slightly. Eyes flick down, looking as though you’re below him.

Lowers his head.

“Eris prefers verbal warfare,” he begins, repeating the same old things he’s already told you. Fingertips begin to itch.

Hazel pierces into you, muscle in his jaw tensing. “He’s good at it, too. Good enough to make all of us wary. Doesn’t that show enough?”

(You’re skilled with words, has anyone told you that?)

“I got that impression.”

He nods, no more than a gentle dip of his chin. “That’s good,” he sighs. “It’s a good start.” Something twists in your gut at the words.

“Just don’t go near him,” Azriel continues, unaware of the numbness that’s slowly spreading down your back. “Okay.” Hands move automatically, and you watch distantly as they go.

He sighs, “so tell me what happened most recently. All of it. Then I can tell you what’s good and what’s not.”

“I don’t remember all of it,” you mumble.

Why are you so tired? It’s not the same fatigue as after talking with Eris. That was pleasant. Your mind was tired from working. Now… You’re just tired of resisting.

“You said he asked about you living alone,” he prompts. You want to go to bed. Want to close the curtains and crawl deep under the sheets.

You nod distantly. “And you said you liked the quiet.”

Nod again.

“So what happened after that?” He’s gotten quieter, sensing your disengagement.

You shrug weakly. “We just talked.”

“This is what I mean,” he says gently, attempting to soften the words that need to be said. “Eris doesn’t do idle chatter. You have to start understanding that.”

You shake your head, denying, “he didn’t ask anything else.”

“But you were talking?” He asks pointedly, doubt clear.

You go quiet. Shoulders slope.

Azriel sighs, standing upright. There’s no use talking to you like this.

“Let’s try this another time. When you’re more… When you’re feeling better.” He waits a little for a response. Feel the weight of his gaze on your hands. You don’t respond, and he dips his head in acknowledgement. Allowing your peace.

But still, when he leaves, you’re torn between crying, and wanting to run after him.

Nothing’s gotten better.

You still crave his attention, even though it’s begun to hurt.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei

[mysticstronomy]

WHY IS EVERYTHING IN SPACE ALWAYS MOVING??

Blog#434

Saturday, September 7th, 2024.

Welcome back,

Have you ever wondered why everything in the universe seems to be in constant motion? From our planet's orbit around the sun to the rotation of galaxies, nothing in space stands still. But what drives this cosmic dance?

The story of movement in the universe begins at the very dawn of time, with the Big Bang. According to Edward Gomez, an astrophysicist and the education director at Las Cumbres Observatory, the universe started expanding outward from an infinitely dense point.

This expansion set everything in motion, imprinting movement into the very fabric of the cosmos. As Carol Christian, an astrophysicist and outreach project scientist for the Hubble Space Telescope, explains, "The beginning was movement, and so movement has been built into the universe from the very beginning."

While the universe’s expansion mainly affects vast distances, it’s not just about objects moving through space; it’s also about the space between them growing larger. On smaller scales, however, rotation plays a key role in how objects behave.

This spinning motion is a fundamental aspect of the universe, evident in everything from the tiniest particles to massive galaxies.

So, why does everything spin? The answer lies in a concept called angular momentum. When two objects in space come close to each other, their mutual gravitational pull often causes them to orbit one another, rather than colliding or drifting apart. This effect is responsible for the rotational motion we observe in celestial bodies.

Edward Gomez likens the formation of our solar system to making a pizza: as you spin the dough, it flattens into a disc. Similarly, the solar system began as a spinning mass of gas and dust, which eventually coalesced into the sun and planets. Angular momentum ensured that this spinning never ceased, and it's why the planets continue to orbit the sun today.

Interestingly, galaxies don't spin the way you might expect based on visible matter alone. Instead, they rotate as if they were solid objects, a phenomenon that puzzled scientists until the discovery of dark matter. This mysterious substance, which doesn’t interact with light, exerts gravitational forces that influence the motion of galaxies, adding another layer to the complexity of cosmic movement.

In the grand scheme of things, motion is not just a characteristic of the universe—it’s a fundamental ingredient. As Gomez eloquently puts it, motion shows that "the universe is alive—not in the sense of being conscious, but things are happening." Chemical and physical reactions drive the cosmic machinery, and at the heart of it all is motion, the most basic form of energy.

This never-ending movement reminds us that the universe is an active, dynamic place, constantly evolving and shifting. And while we may not be able to see all the forces at play, the dance of the cosmos continues, driven by the invisible threads of gravity, dark matter, and angular momentum.

Originally published on https://www-moneycontrol-com

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, September 11th, 2024)

"WHAT HAPPENS IF WE MOVE AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT????"

[sonic-fankid-showdown]

Poll 28, Round 1.

About Solar: (by @chaospears) Solar (they/she) was created by Black Doom just before his defeat. He realised Shadow was going to betray him, so he needed someone that could a) harness chaos energy to bring the Black Comet to earth and b) be strong enough to defeat Shadow. So he used Sonic's DNA to create a powerful Black Arms hybrid. Solar however wasn't completed before Doom's defeat, and they stayed in stasis in her lifepod for 3 years amongst fallen debris from the comet. She was discovered by Eclipse. Solar is VERY excitable and bubbly and very like sonic in that she talks and acts faster than she thinks but they love the earth so deeply, and would do anything to protect it <3

About Soda: (by @ubtendo) Soda is the oldest of three. She has her hands full with keeping her siblings in lane when they are on adventures, even though she doesn't act as the leader of their little group. She is much more interested in machinery and building stuff, that's why she is working at a scrap yard and helping out Tails a lot. She's very chill and just wants to be helpful to anyone who needs it.

[underforeversgrace]

all masks must come off

DannyMay2023 Day 6: Eclipse

words: 2517

Complete

AO3

Excerpt: "Eclipses are... hm, kind of like holy days for ghosts." Danny began and Maddie fully relaxed. Ghosts weren't sentient enough to have anything approching religion or faith. "You can't hide under an eclipse. It's night and day both turning their gaze to you and no disguise can bear both the sun and moon's scrutiny."

~~~~~~

It was Vlad who told him what would happen, though still in the interest of self-preservation and not any kind of kindness or goodwill. Surprisingly enough, it had been Sidney who further expanded, who explained why it would happen. 

Danny, of course, had known about the upcoming solar eclipse for months, what kind of space Obsessed ghost would he be if he didn’t, after all? The closer it came to time, the more his core vibrated in his chest in excitement.

The closer it came to time, though, the harder it became to hold his form, the more he felt the masks he wore trying to slip.

His idea for the day might be madness, he knew. But… he was tired. Two years of this - of lying, of being shot by them - and he was tired. If they didn’t take it well… well, he knew how to care for himself. It wasn’t like he needed to eat, like all of his human biological processes were more suggestions than requirements. There were plenty of abandoned buildings and he was a ghost, may as well give into cliche if he needed to.

He prayed he didn’t need to. He prayed for their love. Who, or even what, he prayed to, he didn’t know. But he prayed with every fiber of his being that they loved him more than they feared ghosts, even once his mask was stripped from him.

A deep, stuttering breath as he reined in his fear. He knew they would accept him, part of him, he had seen that much courtesy of Freakshow last year. But they hadn’t known it all. They didn’t see the whole truth.

“Mom, dad?” Danny asked, peeking his head around the corner of the lab doorway. Even if he wasn’t half ghost, he would probably do this, to be honest. His parent’s lab safety was absolutely nonexistent - he was proof enough of that. It had half-killed two people.

“Danno!” His father boomed, a wide grin taking up half his face. Danny couldn’t help but smile back, Jack’s exuberance was practically tangible. (And also, outright delicious. Danny loved the taste of happy emotions, the darker ones left bitter tastes in his mouth.)

“What’s up, sweetie?” Mom asked, stepping away from whatever they were tinkering with on the desk and pulling her hood down. 

For a moment, Danny just enjoyed this, hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he was able to do this - absorb his parents’ love for him from the air.

“There’s an eclipse soon. Would you like to watch it with me?” Danny asked, gesturing towards the ceiling and the Ops Center above.

Surprise tinged the air as they looked at each other. He didn’t need to guess what they were thinking about. When he was younger, he had pulled them to the Ops Center so many times to just watch the night sky, it hadn’t even needed to have a notable celestial event happening. He had just been young and adored the stars and wanted to share it with his parents.

He hadn’t asked for anything like that, not even for the meteor shower, since he’d died.

“Of course!” Jack said, setting down the half finished device covered in disconnected wires on his desk.

“We’d love to.” Maddie agreed, though Danny saw the tears she blinked away. He knew they were tears of happiness, though.

He didn’t need to be an emotion eater to know that.

“C’mon, then!” He said, waving his hand to follow as he hurried up the stairs, though he pulled his phone out on his way up and shot a quick message to Tucker.

Hack and disable the suits.

He shoved the phone back in his pocket before getting a response, though the vibration he felt less than a minute later and the faint sound of machinery whirring down that even his ghost hearing struggled to hear were all the confirmation he needed.

His parents followed him all the way up, not even pausing when he dropped the ladder that led them to the top of the Ops Center, where nothing else remained over them. His core sang and he saw the first sliver of the moon begin to pass in front of the sun and he knew his countdown had begun as they each sat down, his parents pulling their hoods back on to protect their eyes, Danny fishing eclipse glasses from his pocket even though he didn’t need them.

“I need to talk to you two.” Danny said, leaping headfirst into whatever destiny determined for him as he felt his hold on his mask begin to shatter.

“Should’ve known, you haven’t asked to spend time with us in years,” Mom teased, but Danny sensed the pain behind her words.

~~~~~~

Maddie smiled at her son, though his entire focus was on the slowly disappearing sun above them. Her husband, who sat on Danny’s other side, had a similar smile. It had been so long since Danny wanted anything to do with them, that they weren’t forcing him to do.

“If Jazz or I came back. What would you do?” Danny asked, his gaze never wavering from the show in the sky.

Both parents’ smiles were wiped away, confused frowns replacing them.

“What do you mean, Danno?” Jack asked.

“The Fentons have one rule. What if Jazz or I broke it?”

“The only rule we have is to stay dead,” Maddie said, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going. She knew she was being less than subtle when she reached for Danny’s hand, holding it in her own, reassuring herself when she felt the pulse of his heart beneath his skin.

“I know.”

Maddie hesitated. What would they do? Obviously, it wouldn’t be her children anymore, but it would still be an echo of them. Could she hunt something that had once been her child?

It was Jack who ended up answering. “I… I don’t know. I couldn’t shoot something that looked like you, I know I couldn’t. So please move on, if it ever comes to that.” Jack swallowed, pain in his eyes as he even contemplated the idea of their son dying. “Please don’t linger.”

“And if it isn’t that easy? To just move on?” Danny asked. He began to look fuzzy around the edges, though Maddie didn’t even really acknowledge it, eyes full of tears as they were.

“I… I don’t know, Danny.” Maddie admitted. “I couldn’t hurt you. I couldn’t. Not something with your face.”

“It may not look like my face anymore.” Danny said cryptically.

Maddie was still struggling for words when Danny continued.

“Want to know something cool Sam discovered in one of her ghost books?”

“Uh. Uh, sure?” Maddie stuttered out, though some relief settled within her. Clearly, something in Sam’s books had been wrong and had caused a train of thought more painful than Maddie had ever imagined.

“Eclipses are… hm, kind of like holy days for ghosts.” Danny began and Maddie fully relaxed. Ghosts weren’t sentient enough to have anything approaching religion or faith. “You can’t hide under an eclipse. It’s night and day both turning their gaze to you and no disguise can bear both the sun and moon’s scrutiny.”

The moon continued to inch further in front of the sun.

“I…” Danny swallowed harshly. “I didn’t mean to.” He said, pulling off his glasses and tossing them from the roof.

“Danny!” They both yelled in worry, preparing to cover his eyes, but he scooted back too quickly.

Neither knew what to do when green eyes stared down at them. “I didn’t mean to stay.” He repeated and Maddie could no longer deny the fuzziness of his body wasn’t a trick her eyes were playing on her. He looked up at the sky again and Maddie just looked at her husband, shock, fear, worry, grief painting his features.

When she returned her gaze to her son, Maddie’s mind felt oddly empty. She just… she didn’t understand. When did her son die? She had just felt his heartbeat!

But there was no denying she was talking to her son’s ghost as he raised into the air, still with his legs crossed, floating without effort.

“Danny?” Jack whispered, reaching for him. Danny visibly flinched when his father managed to get his hand, but he didn’t pull away, even as Jack pulled him back to the ground. “Danny?” He repeated, pain the like of which Maddie had never heard from her husband in his voice as he grasped both of Danny’s shoulders, as though seeing him for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispered back, the faintest hint of an echo seeping into his voice. Still in his father’s hands, he turned slightly to look at her. “I’m sorry.” He repeated, tears slipping from his eyes too.

He returned his gaze to his father and seamlessly pulled away from him, phasing through Jack’s hands. “That… that isn’t all.” He said. The eclipse wasn’t at totality yet, but it was nearly there. “You know two of my masks, my disguises. No one knows what I actually look like anymore. Not even me.”

Danny stood and stepped back away from them. “First, I need you to understand. I didn’t mean to die.” Those words were a knife to Maddie’s heart. “I didn’t mean to come back.” Suddenly, Maddie didn’t care about the stupid old Fenton rule. “But I’m happy. I’m still here. I… I’m still Danny. Still your son.” Maddie could no longer hold back tears at the last statement, how unsure he sounded in those few words despite everything else said with such confidence. No words came to her to say though, the lead in her chest suffocating her as his eyes continued to glow green.

“How long?” Jack asked, slightly lifting up his hood and letting a stream of tears escape. He wasn’t looking at the eclipse anymore.

“A little over two years.” Danny admitted and whatever was left of Maddie’s heart shattered so hard it was nearly audible. That long? How had her son been dead for two years and his parents didn’t know? 

Suddenly all of their ‘malfunctioning’ inventions made a lot more sense.

“But!” He continued, motioning for both of them to look at him. “I’m only half ghost. I… my accident with the portal, do you remember?” Maddie pressed her hand to her mouth as she began to actively, loudly sob.

Her invention had killed her son.

“Half?” Jack asked, emotions wavering in his voice. “That… that isn’t possible, son.”

“People said the same thing about ghosts.” Danny replied simply. “It’s time.”

Maddie could tell when totality hit, even if she hadn’t seen the change in color and light, hadn’t seen it out of the corner of her. Because she saw her son.

Her heart knew it was her son, even if her eyes didn’t.

As soon as the moon fully blocked the sun, he changed. The fuzziness faded from his edges. He grew taller, darker, his hands suddenly too long. He was still humanoid, but only barely. His torso stretched too far, his legs too thin, his face too blue. Inexplicably, she still saw the human in him. His heart shone through the darkness of his chest, his veins glowed. She could see his heart beating. Every time it pumped, his veins burned a very human red, fading to the green of his eyes, only to repeat the cycle at his next heartbeat, the crown floating above him pulsing in tandem. As she watched, a second set of what looked like veins began to glow a solid green, but the shape was wrong. It took her mind a moment to realize this new pattern of thin branches were shaped like lightning and only shot through half his body.

Maddie felt like she should be terrified. The being in front of her was monstrous, the thing children were warned would get them if they misbehaved.

But even as the… the thing in front of her opened his mouth and showed too sharp teeth, she didn’t fear him. He bit nervously at his lip, he rubbed a hand behind his neck.

In his mannerisms, she knew it was still her son in front of her.

Though, as she studied white hair, as the monochromatic symbol glowed on his chest, she wondered how she hadn’t seen it before. How she’d never seen her son in Phantom.

Maybe because Danny Fenton was a human boy and Danny Phantom was a long dead teenager. She’d never looked too closely.

“Mom?” He asked, voice echoing with static beneath, though it did nothing to hide the fear beneath. “Dad?”

~~~~~~

Danny had never felt as free as he did in that moment, the restraints of the mask he wore deteriorated to nothing. He had known, for a long time, that the way Phantom looked wasn’t the true way he was, but he’d always been too afraid to see what he may really be under the surface.

Phantom looked human, Phantom didn’t scare the people.

As he yielded to the eclipse, let it unravel every disguise he’d forged, he knew he would return to his costume as soon as he could. His body was too long, too thin, too tall. He could see his veins changing color as his ghost side and human side fought for dominance, could see his death scar glowing brightly in the pitch black that was his skin. His teeth felt too sharp against his tongue, his hair brushed against ears that were too long, a crown he kept trying to refuse weighing him down.

He had never seen this before. Only his death scar, though it remained hidden beneath his jumpsuit.

As free as he felt, he also knew he was horrific.

His parents’ emotions tasted sharper, sweeter, than anything ever had before. The horror and sorrow they felt tasted like ash.

But the acceptance was better, honey-like and with a pleasant aftertaste.

It was their love, though, that tasted better than anything he’d ever experienced before.

“Danny.” His mother said, standing and looking up at him, dwarfing her. He’d be dwarfing his father too right now. Danny hesitated then knelt down onto his knees, so he only towered slightly over her. “My son.” She continued, holding open her arms.

“Mom.” He said, voice breaking as tears spilled from him, as he accepted her embrace.

Jack said nothing, just enclosing his wife and son in his arms.

As they embraced in silence, the moon continued to move, allowing the sun’s light to spread again. Danny felt his masks come back to him and welcomed them, despite the constricted feeling he now was aware of, that had always been there.

When his parents pulled away, it was normal Danny Phantom who stood in front of them, shrunk back to his normal size.

There were a lot of discussions, a lot of guilt he knew he and his parents would have to work through.

But as love filled the air, filled his entire being, nourishment down to his very core, Danny knew it would all be okay. 

[tibby-art]

erm. another hitman au ask i'm wondering how much power the NHO has? over Hermit City n stuff. are there like- different quadrants of their organisation? like for tech, historical research, surveillance, hitmen etc ? also sry i know nothing abt NHO convex watchers n stuff. very interested tho.

also do bdubs beef etho n doc have like. matching suits. are they best friends. do they hang out near the water cooler and braid eachothers hair. do they have matching Business Bracelets? with letter cubes and pretty beads. stars gummybears dolphins heart shaped ones. i think that's a sign of true best friendship in the workplace <3 anywho

so basically the NHO is an early season 5 thing, they’re the New Hermit Order and they clashed heads with the ConVex a bit (they made it canon that they ate the nho to explain the nho becoming inactive towards the end of season 5. because why not)

“Running with the name, i think the NHO in this au is focused on maintaining order in the city, so taking down criminals as well as taking care of any weird anomaly that may threaten the city (anything from an outbreak of mobs to someone gaining weird powers overnight). Before they were hitmen, the ConVex were the most wanted criminals in Hermit City, and it took the NHO a very long time to finally catch them and make a deal with them. The NHO is Beef, Doc, Etho and Bdubs, so I think they’re the four heads of the organization, each with their own areas of expertise that they manage. (I think Bdubs and Beef are more focused on infrastructure, Bdubs being the builder that he is and Beef being an expert mapmaker/planner, while Doc and Etho are more focused on redstone machinery and technology. Doc is a bit more into insane experiments about it while Etho is more just like, helping implement solar-powered crosswalk signs or something dope and chill like that)

also that last bit is 100% true they deny everything though

[solartive]

#LalaLajpatRaiJayanti

Lala Lajpat Rai contributed a lot to making India an independent nation. Due to his efforts and sacrifices, he gained the title of Punjab Kesari, or the Lion of Punjab. He was born on January 28, 1865, in Dhudike, India. He was an Indian writer, great leader, politician, and inspiring freedom fighter who started the Hindu supremacy movement to gain freedom for the nation.

Today, Solartive pays homage to and remembers the greatest freedom fighter of all time on his birth anniversary. May his vision inspire generations to come.

Who Are We?

Solartive is an Indian brand that manufactures Solar water pump. We have a wide range of solar submersible pump, solar monoblock pump and smart IoT based RMS controller.

[shro-om]

Far away in a solar system three planets are inhabited by slimes common and unknown and three ranchers have been sent to explore.

The soul, closest to the sun a human can get (or whatever he is) in search of new ways to care for slimes and give them stable and healthy captive lives.

The heart, on a planet closest to earth, from what they remember atleast, here in search of new ways to make medicine and other healing sorta of things, and perhaps personal health

And, the mind, on the coldest planet, in search of materials for machinery, and materials to further advance science.

They have to communicate through a trade system to keep everything together and show thats everything is successful so they can stay part of the main trade syatem, but they have, budding, opinions and feelings to say the least.

(Ooc: I'm not good at writing so any ideas, suggestions, or better ways to represent characters, is greatly appreciated and heard!)

(Also I'm open to questions or anything about this au ^ ^ )

[dduane]

Hey DD! My friend and I were looking at the graphic you have for the All the Wizardry bundle. We're both on the Curiosity science team, and we're curious (pun intended) where the model came from. Every time I see it it makes me smile :)

(chortle) I was impressed with it too when I first saw it, though the maker doesn't explicitly come out and say that's what they're modeling.

It turns up over here at Daz3D: "Mars Rover." And the maker seems to have done a pretty good job. It's fully rigged, and everything that ought to be able to move, does.

...When I was working on A Wizard of Mars it occurred to me that wizards with an interest in the Red Planet would be up there covertly interacting with the machinery on a regular basis—usually with puffer brushes and/or carefully-shielded cans of compressed air to help keep solar panels clean (or cleaner...) when observed weather conditions on Mars offered them sufficient cover to let them exploit the "plausible deniability" factor. (Because the last thing they'd want to do would be to mess up the science.)

So when it came time to do the cover for the New Millennium edition of AWoM, it seemed to me that the best thing to emphasize would be the concrete reality of what we'd put up there. Therefore a wheel of that Rover model appears on that cover.

The Rover also turns up occasionally, as you've seen above, in promotional stuff for the Ebooks Direct store; such as this 2017 ad for a summer reading sale.

(And yeah, if the orange-redness of everything is emphasized... oh well, it's a trope, and sometimes you just surrender gracefully and lean into those.) :)

BTW, the rather blown-out image of Mars displaying on the right side of the Wizard's manual in the AWoM cover above is a relic from older editions of the book: a render I did using laser altimetry and radar terrain data from the Mars Global Surveyor probe. There's a scene in the book where one character gets really annoyed at another and uses wizardry to drop a small ocean's worth of (ancient) water on the Oceanidum Mons region in an attempt to get rid of her. This attempts to show how the region looked in the immediate aftermath.

...I really need to re-render this now that Terragen has upgraded its planetary-level cloud management. :)

Anyway, I'm delighted you liked the Rover! Thanks for letting me know.

[riddlerosehearts]

okay, i'm going to elaborate on what i said about how you can't convince me that deuce spade isn't directly inspired by jim hawkins, because i can't believe i haven't seen anyone talk about it before:

yes, i know deuce is a card soldier. everyone who's ever played twst knows this. however. many of the characters seem to take inspiration from multiple characters and multiple movies. lilia is one of maleficent's armored minions but also has elements of the three fairies, vil is the evil queen but kind of played the role of hercules in book 6, ortho has parallels to both pinocchio and baymax, the cater cinderella theory is a thing, etc.

one of yana toboso's favorite disney movies is treasure planet, so it is not at all implausible that she took inspiration from it for one of her characters.

they're both raised by single mothers. we know nothing about deuce's father iirc, and all we know of jim's father is that he left one day when jim was little and never came back.

deuce used to be a diligent kid who studied hard but became frustrated with his grades not matching the effort he put in, so he stopped trying and became a delinquent.

jim is a smart kid who used to be curious and sweet, but after his father left he changed. he became a delinquent who was failing in school and frequently got in trouble with the police.

jim goes for joyrides on aircrafts called solar surfers and is skilled at building and maintaining them.

deuce goes for joyrides on blastcycles/magical wheels and is also skilled with machinery.

deuce talks about how one day he overheard his mom on the phone with his grandmother, in tears and saying that she must've been a horrible mother because of how deuce turned out. then when he got his letter from NRC he decided he wanted to change so he wouldn't hurt his mom anymore.

in treasure planet, there's a scene where jim overhears his mother talking to dr. doppler about how she's at the end of her rope with jim's behavior and doesn't know what to do anymore because she feels like she's tried everything. then he decides he wants to make things up to her by finding treasure planet.

by the time we meet deuce, he's already cleaned his act up and decided to try and become an honor student so his mother can be proud of him. the end of treasure planet implies that jim has enrolled in the interstellar academy that captain amelia wanted to recommend him to, and in fact the canceled sequel was going to focus on jim's time there.

[h-didanart]

Guys. Father’s Day

Yeah?

Ok. Father’s day in the Crescent household.

Yes? Let’s go

(KC uses he//she//they, SolarFlare uses they//them)

— — —

KC hadn’t exactly expected to have a shorter shift than usual, being content with the everyday twelve hours. Yet his coworkers had pushed him to leave earlier, and they had sounded very set on the decision.

And so, here she was, walking back home at three in the afternoon. She had to admit, the views were rather nice at this time of the day, something he didn’t always get to see but still appreciated.

Perhaps they should take the children on a nature walk that week? They didn’t need to drop by the Plex, and he didn’t have shifts on the weekend, it would all depend on Star and Queso’s tech management things. It did sound like a lovely idea however, he’ll have to make a note for that.

As it stands she was already at the current campsite, making their way to the RV when Flare walked out of it. They were both startled by the other, KC being the one to talk first after the shock.

“I am aware you were expecting me to arrive at a later time, however my coworkers decided that I would go back home earlier today,” he chuckled, “‘my Father’s Day gift’ they had called it”

Flare looked at her, processing the information. It took a bit but they seemed to understand soon enough, KC felt bad over messing up their schedule though and was about to apologize, but Flare quickly diverted his attention to a path nearby.

“We Should Go Walk,” they pointed at the trees, “There Isn’t A Lot To Do Here. You Might Like To See The Nearby River”

KC hummed. “I suppose we could, I would like to leave my things here first however”

Flare nodded, moving away from the RV’s entrance and letting KC enter. They set the box with food on the counter and were about to set their bag down before remembering something. She had picked up a curious looking rock for Queso, he knew he collected them, so she should probably get that to him before leaving.

He exited the RV making their way over to Eclipses’ workshop. Only for Flare to block his way. She looked up at the taller bot, confused. “Am I not allowed there?”

“No”

KC hummed, “Are your brothers out?”

Flare hesitated in their answer, “No”

“Then may I at least speak to them? I have something I believe Queso will like”

Flare stared at KC.

KC stared at Flare.

KC would’ve continued to stare at Flare were it not for the loud thump that came from the workshop. And alongside it a very lengthy swear, from Hunter’s voice.

Which meant all of her children were there.

Which meant they were avoiding him.

Which meant they were hiding something.

KC turned back to Flare once more.

“What is going on?”

Flare seemingly tensed up at the query. “Nothing”

“You aren’t one to lie to me,” KC stated calmly, “tell me what is wrong, it is the only way I’ll be able to help”

Flare stared at him still. The solar bot would not budge on this it seems.

KC sighed, quickly summoning a small set of movement runes. They moved Flare out of the way before the taller could even protest, and opened the door to her sons’ workspace.

Only… they were not expecting what they saw.

It wasn’t an absolute mess, there was no broken things or machinery even. Only his children, frozen in place staring straight at him.

Queso was sprawled out in front of the back counter, which held various colorful boxes of various different sizes. Hunter was mid-step, carrying a couple boxes, looking rather aloof. Harvest held one of those tools used for icing cakes, filled with mint green icing, over a bare cupcake that was surrounded by many more already-iced cupcakes.

It was silence all around, last comment that had been heard being Flare’s “I Am Afraid There Was An Unknown Variable In Our Plan”

Everyone remained in place.

The speakers crackled to life, Star’s weak voice coming through.

“W-we can s-see that Flare…”

Harvest had begun her hum of nervousness, Hunter opting for a diversion.

“Happy birthday?”

They were all incredibly nervous if their core rates were anything to go by.

“What is going on?” KC finally asked.

Hunter looked at Harvest, Harvest looked at Queso, Queso looked at Flare, Flare glanced at KC.

“Father’s Day Celebration Set Up”

KC looked back at her other children.

“This is just like Mother’s Day,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I didn’t set anything on fire,” Harvest said near instantly, “this is way better than aspired!”

“Y-yeah,” Stars piped up, “we all learned to not let y-you cook since then”

She turned to the closest camera, hissing, “Hey!”

KC sighed at their children’s antics, fully stepping into the workshop. “Do you need help with anything? I got off work earlier as you may see” they addressed Queso and Hunter. They both shook their head.

“You don’t get to help today!” Hunter exclaimed, “you get to do nothing!” He laughed, almost gesturing with his hands and dropping the boxes, all while still on only one foot.

KC approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you are aware you can move now, yes?”

Hunter blinked. Then turned right around to what he had been doing before, moving boxes apparently.

The oldest turned around to the solar bot, small smile on his face. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

Queso nodded, giving KC the thumbs up and shooing them away from what was probably the gift table. He chuckled as he left the workshop, passing by an argumentative Harvest and tired Flare.

KC hadn’t exactly expected to have her children celebrate Father’s Day for him today, he would’ve been fine just having a normal family dinner. But knowing his children are putting effort on celebrating them today… it warmed her heart on ways he could’ve never dreamt.