#sparse velocity

[chuuyas-height]

A Gentleman's Word (The Cat Returns)

Hiii this is a short story for the #gt_gotcha_4_gaza and the chapter revolves around the Studio Ghibli movie "The cat returns"

This is absolutely sfw and fluffy :3

You can also find this on Wattpad and AO3

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The rays of the beaming sun gently bathed his golden fur in their warm light as the motionless statue came to life. The appearance of any humans in the world of cats was incredibly sparse, therefore Baron would rarely have any human customers. In fact, even with no humans around, other cats passed his doorstep on extremely rare occasions since the nature of his services was not seeked very often. Baron brushed his thoughts away with a stretch of his limbs as the shop bell rang, indicating the entrance of a client. He straightened the hem of his coat and patted the dust off his fancy clothes to make himself more presentable. 

But no matter how distinguished Baron was, no amount of proper etiquette had the ability to stop his eyes from widening ever so slightly at the sight. By the door stood a human woman whom he mistakenly took for a girl. But he was not to be blamed. After all, most humans scaled up to three or four times his own size, and watching a human sport the same stature as him was an odd sight. The woman's small figure crept closer. 

“H-Hello,” she stuttered, “is this the Cat Bureau? I-I was advised to come here… I was told you could maybe provide some aid to my predicament...” the lady voiced. As she approached, Baron got a better look at her features. Long, chestnut colored hair graced her shoulders as an anxious pair of hazel irises scanned the room. Her figure, abnormally petite for someone so mature, didn't dare wander too deep into the shop. That's when Baron decided to make his presence known by clearing his throat, earning a soft yelp from the smaller lady. 

“I apologise for my imprudence.” said Baron as he removed his hat and bowed into a curtsy. “This is indeed the Cat Bureau and I, Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, am at your full service.” As he rose once more and put the hat back on his head, Baron realised he was actually a few inches taller than the human woman. As she reached the same conclusion, the woman flushed in embarrassment. Thankfully, Baron spoke. 

“What is your name, my fair lady?”

“My name is Anna. Pleased to meet you.” 

“Well, dear Anna, your problem must be of an arcane or magical nature, hence your presence here. And if my judgement stands correct, your predicament revolves around your size, no?” The woman nodded and hesitantly took a step forward. 

“That's right. It has just recently come to my attention that my body is reducing in size at a rapid rate. From what I observed, I lose around five inches of height every week and as you can already tell, it's quite bothersome.”

Baron hummed in acknowledgement, fondling the fur of his chin in thought. “I can see the source of your worries, my fair lady. I shall certainly start working on a cure right away, although please note it may take a considerable amount of time to gather all the necessary ingredients. I would advise you to stop by regularly so I can check up on your condition.”

The woman nodded as her hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress. She didn't want to get her hopes too high in case they came crashing down on her. “Very well. Thank you for your time, sir. Be certain I will return and best of luck with your work.”

Baron bowed his head as a thank you and escorted the lady out. After sharing their goodbyes, the cat returned to his spot and got to work right away. 

~~~

True to her words, Anna returned many times, each one appearing smaller than the other. She was losing height gradually, going from three feet tall to a measly two feet tall in the span of two weeks. The velocity of her condition was especially concerning to Baron but he didn't wish to upset the shrinking lady. Instead he opted for optimism and faith in his potion-making abilities. Indeed, whenever the woman paid him a visit, he'd have a new, improved potion waiting for her. She'd happily accept and drink the mix of herbs, extracts and other “secret” ingredients, but her hopes shrivelled with every failed attempt that by now were too many to even count. 

Eventually, Anna's predicament had reached a new low. One of those days, Baron was startled by a faint knock on his door. It was the middle of the night and unlike the other cats who were most definitely soundly asleep by that time, Baron was working his butt off, dedicated to reaching the root of the problem. He could sleep once his objective was completed. Wondering who it could possibly be this late at night, he marched to the door. Paws on the handle, he opened the door to find no-one. Confusion was written all over his features but a nearly silent sniffle caught his attention. Looking down, he was met with a tiny figure that undoubtedly belonged to Anna. She was so small she was only slightly bigger than a mouse. As she looked upwards to face the now giant to her cat, Anna's sobs died in her throat. He couldn’t help but observe that her small face was visibly red and adorned with the glistening patterns of fresh tears. 

“I… I…shrunk again…” she said softly, barely audible to Baron who now towered above her. His heart swelled at the pathetic display before him and his paws reached down and scooped the woman up of their own accord. Her first reaction was to gasp, not expecting to get picked up all of a sudden. But as her cheek was pressed against the soft, fine material of his vest, she let it all out and a new flow of tears was released. “I-I am s-so scared.” she admitted with both her arms wrapped around his paw, her hands holding fistfuls of golden fur as if seeking some relief. “Worry not, for I will keep you company until you get back to normal.” he purred. Baron looked at the wrecked miniaturised lady with fondness and affection, while fear started to find its way through his heart. She was barely four inches tall. What if… What if he couldn’t help her after all? 

He cursed his pessimistic thoughts and pressed the tiny woman harder against his chest in an attempt of comfort and security. It seemed to do the trick as the crying reduced to whimpering and eventually nothing more than occasional hiccups and a racing heart. Wordlessly, Baron walked back inside and took a seat by his work table, careful not to startle the jumpy lady in his paws. While still caressing and comforting the small lady, he had to keep up with his work and finish that potion. It could possibly be his last chance. 

~~~

It had been hours since Anna had fallen asleep. By the time Baron mixed the very last ingredient, Anna was snoozing in the cat's vest pocket, huddled in the tight opening. Baron raised the vial with the deep lilac color up to his face, glaring at the thick fluid within. I hope this works, he thought and with a soft sigh, he delicately tried to awake the woman. 

“My lady, wake up.” he purred. “There is a new potion I would like you to try.” Baron felt a shift near his chest as the tiny human poked her head out of his pocket, all while rubbing the sleep off her tired eyes. He reached into his pocket and scooped her out, laying her on the work table. He couldn’t tell if she was smaller than he remembered or if the lack of sleep was taking a toll on his body. Anna stood there expectantly, hoping this time everything would work out. At this point, the vial itself was bigger than Anna and Baron had to carefully lower it down to her level so she could take a sip. The woman tried holding the oversized tube but she honestly wouldn't manage much without Baron's help. She latched her lips on the edge and took careful, measured gulps. 

The excitement had died off of her as soon as nothing happened after Baron pulled the vial away. She had to admit this one left behind a better after taste than the rest, but it meant nothing if she couldn’t turn back to her original size. Crestfallen, Anna felt her lids droop as the adrenaline slowly evaporated from her body, the previous exhaustion finally catching up. Looking outside the closed window and then at the big wooden clock decorating his wall, Baron decided they both had to catch up on some much needed sleep. He took the woman on his soft paws and headed to the expansive couch where he rested his body, with Anna's tiny form clinging at his sides. 

The wearines the cat felt was so great he didn’t wake up until the early hours of noon. Not even the glaring sun managed to awake him. His eyes struggled to adjust to the harsh lightning, but something caught his attention either way. He was no longer on the couch. Startled, he searched for Anna's small body, only to find that he had been resting on the fully sized woman's torso all along. Elation overtook him as he realised his potion actually worked. Anna was still sleeping, unaware of what happened throughout the night. Something soft brushed her left arm and she shifted in her sleep. 

“My lady.”

Baron's voice she could recognise anywhere, but what was off was the fact that she couldn’t hear him all around her. Anna's eyes snapped open and she was met with the cat standing on her torso and smiling proudly. “We did it.”

Anna was stunned, taking in her surroundings. Nothing towered above her anymore. Instead, she was the one who was too big now. Baron took the cue and climbed down the woman's torso as her upper body rose. Everything around her down to every detail was perfectly sized for a cat's comfort. She felt like the giant one for a second. But once she was over the mild shock, her heart picked up the pace and a smile adorned her pretty features. “Oh thank you so much! You did it!” she exclaimed and wrapped her arms around the cat's figure. “No need to thank me, my lady. After all, I only did my job.”

Anna shook her head. “It's not just that. Thank you for helping me out, and keeping me safe. Thank you for keeping me company and going through all that trouble just for me. I'll be eternally grateful to you, Baron.” And with that, Anna hugged the cat once more before squeezing herself out of the small Bureau and waving goodbye with a huge smile plastered on her face. 

Baron couldn’t help but think she was beautiful. But then again, all humans were. And with that thought, he took his usual spot by the window until his next client's arrival.

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@gtgotcha4gaza <3

[voskhozhdeniye]

Musical Obsessions 2023

100 gecs: 10,000 gecs*

Aesop Rock: Integrated Tech Solutions

Alice Coltrane, I listen to her more than John now.

ANOHNI and The Johnsons' It Must Change, Rest and Why Am I Alive Now?

bdrmm's Pulling Stitches

Black Belt Eagle Scout: The Land, The Water, The Sky

Bowery Electric, lots of Bowery Electric

Chelsea Wolfe, lots of Chelsea Wolfe

Coil, lots of Coil

The Decemberists' The Rake's Song

Editors' Munich*

Emeralds, lots of Emeralds

Eric Dolphy, lots of Eric Dolphy

Fever Ray: Radical Romantics

Fiddlehead: Death Is Nothing to Us*

Flying Saucer Attack, lots of Flying Saucer Attack

God Body Disconnect: The Weight of Regression

HEALTH: RAT WARS*

The Inevitable Minor Fires: How Do I Miss You At This Remove? Let Me Count The Ways

Interpol's All the Rage Back Home and My Desire*

James Blake's Fall Back and Big Hammer

JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown: SCARING THE HOES*

Kara Jackson: Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love?*

Katie Gately's Bracer

Kelela: Raven

Lovesliescrushing, LOTS of Lovesliescrushing

Mandy, Indiana: i've seen a way*

Matana Roberts: Coin Coin Chapter Five: In the garden…*

Meat Beat Manifesto's Acid Again

My Wet Calvin's XS Underwear

The Orb: The Orb's Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld

Pan Sonic, lots of Pan Sonic*

Ross Fish: Stasis*

Slowdive: everything is alive

Sudan Archives' Freakalizer (The Egyptian Lover Remix)

SUNN O))), lots of SUNN O)))

Surfer Blood's Gravity

Sweet Trip: Velocity: Design: Comfort.

Thom Nguyên: The Summer Passed in Monotone

Tim Hecker: No Highs

Tod Dockstader: Aerial #1

TYGAPAW: love has never been a popular movement.

Tzusing: 绿帽 Green Hat

Yellow Swans, LOTS of Yellow Swans

Youth Valley: Lullabies For Adults

Zimpel / Ziołek: Zimpel / Ziołek

Zoon: Bekka Ma'iingan

Bold and italicized indicates a favorite released this year.

Matana's is my favorite. I really, really like the Fever Ray album. I forced myself to listen to less music this year than last year. This time last year I was completely fatigued. I broke a lot of habits this year. I have a notebook I've updated yearly since 2011 that lists my first album picked up each year, which albums I had in the car for each month, and every album I've listened to throughout the year that was released that year. Yes, I can tell you what album I had in my car in December 2012. It was Kate Bush's 50 Words For Snow. I didn't keep track of which albums I put in the car this year. I've had various Yellow Swans records in there since October. I also didn't keep track of which 2023 albums I listened to. Last.fm can tell me, but I'm not worried about it.

I have completely stopped listening to the radio, and use Spotify sparsely. My best friends are my external hard drives. I keep identical backups. I don't have THAT much music.

Last year was my jazz year. The goal was to expand beyond the artists I was familiar with. This year was my '90s and early '00s electronic music year. I think I dug a lot more vigorously last year. In fact I said, "Next year I want to start digging through all of the electronic albums the synth bros swear are the most important albums ever made." Some of them I liked, and some of them..... There was a point around June, where I actively recognized my digging around this year wasn't returning as much joy as last year. Autechre, Biosphere, Muslimgauze, and Pan Sonic are the finds whose discographies I've started devouring.

I truly listen to everything, because everything has the potential to be inspiring in someway. The flip side to that is that sometimes I subject myself to stuff I don't like. One of the MTV channels still mainly plays music videos, so sometimes I'll mindlessly watch the latest and greatest music videos to see what's "cool." Most of it is trash. That's how I heard all of these lazy samples people are getting away with.

@knightofleo Andy Stott, sometimes it takes me years to get to recommendations. Yes, you were right. I am taking notes.

I've decided next year I'm going to start with Japanese noise bands and see where they lead me. @the-inevitable-minor-fires and @anarchist-caravan I'm starting with Boris. I've heard very little from them. I'll probably start with Akuma no Uta. I really like Naki Kyoku. Any recommendations from them and other bands to check out? @zombimanos I'm not sure if you go here too, but if so, your input is also welcomed. I am a blank canvas on the subject. It doesn't have to be strictly Japanese noise bands, that's just an area I know has deep veins to mine.

As for my music, I'm drifting between noise and dance. I want my dance tracks to have less structure. If I could describe the sound I'm looking for it's Heart of Aeonia dub. Look up Slowdive's Moussaka Chaos if you haven't heard it. That drunken sound, but more rotted. There's an early Yellow Swans track the eventually evolves into something that sounds like a '90s Busta Ryhmes track. Shackleton also comes to mind. I want to sound murkier, waterlogged. Doom Ambient Techno. This has become a year long project now. I'll make tracks and they feel too far to one side or the other. I planned to do field recordings this year, but never did any away from the house. I might next year.

100 gecs: A now deleted user once said they have no business going so hard. I listen to this a lot at work. Also, hearing a trans woman tell people to suck her dick multiple times puts a smile on my face for some reason.

Editors: I've known this song for years. I have no clue why I suddenly became obsessed with it.

Fiddlehead: I really love the back half of that album.

Interpol: I don't talk about Interpol on here much. Certain Interpol songs make me lose my mind. I intentionally do not listen to them very much.

HEALTH: As a music fan, I like new HEALTH. But goddamn I miss Get Color HEALTH. As a music maker, I listen to new HEALTH and take notes.

JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown: I hate them. I also wish they mixed their vocals cleaner. I got auditory issues.

Kara Jackson: I am typing this on December 23rd. In December, I relisten to albums released throughout the year in preparation for this list. I listened to Kara's album and Hannah Jadagu's album back to back last week. I've spoken about this many times before, but as a preteen, I wanted to become an artist because I felt like the emotional palette Black people were allowed to express was extremely constricted. As a child I felt that way, 20 plus years later, and now I know you have to scratch beyond the mainstream surface. It's something I still think about a lot, and not just with music. I was much more interested in film when I was younger. Earlier this year, I heard Joe Budden complain about going to a fashion show and all they played was EDM. (I hate that term) He said, there are niggas here, play some Black music. I know that's just who Joe is, but how does he know it wasn't? What does Black music sound like? Kara's Black, is her music not Black? I'm Black, is my music not Black? Are y'all aware there are people who stopped listening to Kanye after Yeezus because it was too White? Like shout out to you for dropping Kanye before the implosion, but what the fuck? I know where these invisible limits on what Black art and even Black people should look like come from, but that doesn't make it any less frustrating to be constantly feeling pressed up against it. As for the album, I love how it starts out simple and slowly adds more complex layers and arrangements. And then you have the title track, which is breathtaking every time. Put down the controller during Elden Ring down every time breathtaking.

Mandy, Indiana: I wish this album went harder. Every time I listen to it there are moments where I'm like MORE! If I can't get Get Color 2 from HEALTH, these guys are a good candidate for it.

Matana Roberts: I feel like Matana deserves a completely separate post for an essay exclusively about her. I'm so glad she's doing this. Her and Aesop occupy a very strange space for me. I actually get nervous when they announce new music. I always have such high hopes. They always deliver, but there's always that thought of how have they evolved since their last release? Yes, I'm aware of how pretentious this sounds. I don't care. I've had many favorite artists evolve to places it's hard to follow, 1980's Miles Davis for example. Hearing her evolution has been a joy, Aesop's too. I listen to Coin Coin Three the most. That's a taking notes album, but I think this is probably her best one. This one feels more intimate to me than the others. Whenever I listen to the album I think about the very ugly fight for abortion and bodily autonomy that's happening here right now, and the gender gap that men know exists, but like racism, must be confronted if acknowledged. So society ignores it, even though it shapes everything about our lives. Throughout the album she repeats the line, "We remember, they forget." The rapes, the abortions, the morning sickness, the second class status, and so on. The women remember what was done to their bodies. The men casually forget.

Pan Sonic: My favorite find going through '90s electronic. I am retooling the modulars to incorporate ideas I've gotten from listening to them. 2024 is violence.

Ross Fish: He created those two noise synths I grabbed this year. I posted the music video for Drugs and Sex on here over the summer. This is a whole fucking mood. His Youtube channel is one of those he's just like me frfr moments. I'm worried about his mental health.

Last year's list

[fruityyamenrunner]

I haven't tried pasting random passages into the bing robot and I haven't seen anyone try it yet so here are my findings

In the 1830s Newman had believed that Catholicism could become what Protestantism had failed to become - a religion for the masses. From that point of view his conversion implied the belief that the Papacy alone could cope with Democracy, and it was the tension he hinted at between the inferential theology of the Church and the simple religion of the masses that made A Grammar of Assent as political a book as The Arians of the Fourth Century.

I n the languages investigated so far, relative time reference has been restricted to subordinate verb forms (finite or non-finite), while main clause (and many subordinate clause) verb forms have received absolute time reference. I t should be noted, however, that these correlations are by no means absolute across the languages of the world.

The circumstellar medium of the B[e] supergiants must consist of at least two components: a high-velocity stellar wind and a dense cool region with low velocity, possibly a disk. In the latter, molecules and dust have formed and TiO emission at 6159 A has been observed (see Zickgraf 1993). Significant polarization has been detected in most of the objects (Magalhaes 1993), showing that the envelopes are non-spherically symmetric.

PROMPT BLOCKED

ETS Complexes I, III, IV, and V are all compromised in hybrid copepods, but there are no negative effects on Complex II (Ellison and Burton, 2006). As presented in detail above, Complexes I, III, IV, and V are all composed of interacting mt and N gene products. Complex II is the only complex that is composed entirely of N gene products

In October 1994 I was debating publicly with a conservative scholar in Moody Bible Church in Chicago. I had accepted the invitation in the hope that we could lessen somewhat the mutual contempt between opposing Christian groups. In the event, that did not work since he presented himself as a theological hit man opposing and refuting me as an “atheist” (see how these Christians hate one another).

PROMPT BLOCKED

From the standpoint of logical presentation in the real world, however, we have to carry out a kind of bootstrap operation with regard to the quantity φ; for how could it be known?

Intuitively, you may have no difficulty in seeing the procedure you would use to determine φ from measurements with the counter. But, logically, we need to have the calculation about to be given before we can justify that procedure.

It is not easy to take any of the Hellenistic utopias seriously: they positively invited the unkind attention of a satirist such as Lucian, being “escapist, uncommitted, and gelatinous.”⁹⁷ Behind most of them lurks the ideal of ataraxia, escape from stress: universal brotherhood expressed in terms of fugal myths glorifying the distant and exotic, the Noble Savage as Scyth, Indian, or Hyperborean

The house was new and on this ground floor smelled of concrete and paint. The rooms were not yet fully decorated; the furnishings were sparse. But there were fans everywhere; and the bathroom fittings, from Germany, were rare and expensive. ‘I am craze for foreign,’ Mrs Mahindra said. ‘Just craze for foreign.’

She marvelled at our suitcases and at what they contained. She fingered with reverence and delight.

‘Craze, just craze for foreign.’

From the outset of this meeting, Smiley had assumed for the main a Buddha-like inscrutability from which neither Tarr’s story nor the rare interjections of Lacon and Guillam could rouse him. He sat leaning back with his short legs bent, head forward, and plump hands linked across his generous stomach. His hooded eyes had closed behind the thick lenses. His only fidget was to polish his glasses on the silk lining of his tie.

Unsafe Image Content Detected

Arryved been° this Cristen folk to londe° In Surrye with a greet solempne route.° And hastifliche° this Sowdan sente his sonde,° First to his mooder and al the regne° aboute,

And seyde his wyf was comen° out of doute° And preyde hire° for to ride agayn° the queene,

The honour of his regne° to susteene.°

Perturbat me, C. Caesar, etiam illud interdum, quod tamen cum te penitus recognovi, timere desino: re enim iniquum est, sed tua sapientia fit aequissimum: nam dicere apud eum de facinore, contra cuius vitam consilium facinoris inisse arguare, cum per se ipsum consideres, grave est; nemo enim fere est qui sui periculi iudex non sibi se aequiorem quam reo praebeat: sed tua, C. Caesar, praestans singularisque natura hunc mihi metum minuit.

Le jeune homme dont l’œil est brillant, la peau brune,

Le beau corps de vingt ans qui devrait aller nu,

Et qu’eût, le front cerclé de cuivre, sous la lune Adoré, dans la Perse un Génie inconnu,

Content Warning

One week after the parinibbana of the Buddha at the salavana or the Mallas near Kusinara, on the full-moon day in the month of Vaisakha, a monk named Subhadda who took ordination in old age spoke thus, "Friend, you need not lament, you need not grieve. We are free from the Mahasamana who used to trouble us by asking us to perform this or that act."

Excellence, then, is a state concerned with choice, lying in a mean relative to us, this being determined by reason and in the way in which the man of practical wisdom would determine it. Now it is a mean between two vices, that which depends on excess and that which depends on defect; and again it is a mean because the vices respectively fall short of or exceed what is right in both passions and actions, while excellence both finds and chooses that which is intermediate.

[slothquisitor]

Candlekeep

Liv and Astarion go to Candlekeep. Featuring more complicated family dynamics, Astarion discovering he can walk on walls, and a lot of headcanon about a library city. 7.5k, Astarion x Liv.

Also on AO3.

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There had been a time once when Liv had dreamed of going to Candlekeep. It had seemed a place of beauty and mystery and knowledge. It was a place that seemed to exist only in the sparse letters she received from her brother, in the books she read about the place in some effort to feel nearer to him. She had hoped that perhaps he would send for her and perhaps she would achieve the velocity of escape, finally free of her parents and all of the pain entailed. 

But it hadn’t happened. Roland’s letters had faded into nothingness, and Liv hadn’t needed anyone to save her. She had left all on her own. And now, as she arrives to the spires and the towers, she realizes that she could have come here on her own long before now. The majesty and mystery of the place seep away just a bit, this is just another city, another place in this vast world. 

“So, what sort of welcome should we be expecting? Is Roland as insufferable as Percy?” Astarion asks as they walk along the road that borders the sea. Liv can smell the sea spray and hear the waves breaking against the shoreline in the soft glow of the moon. Her attention isn’t on the sea, but instead on the dark towers that rise up like some great leviathan. 

Candlekeep is warded against teleportation, so they had to teleport to a place near the edge of the Cloakwood and travel the rest of the way on foot. She’s grateful for the delay, for the way it drags out the waiting and the time before she sees Roland again. Over the last week and a half, they’ve exchanged nothing but a handful of sendings coordinating this trip. She has no idea what to expect. 

“Well, seeing as he invited us, I’m hoping for a warm one…but Roland is very different from Percy. Or at least he was,” she says. “I don’t really know what to expect anymore.” She had thought she’d known Percy, but it had turned out all she knew was his mask…the deception he’d used. She barely trusts herself with her perceptions of Roland now, especially since it’s been nearly ten years since she’s seen him. 

“And Roland is a member of the Avowed ?” Astarion twists the word, makes light of it. He’s been incredibly supportive of them coming to Candlekeep, but he hasn’t bothered hiding just how little he thinks of her brother. 

“Yes, he’s a scribe,” she explains. “But out here, names mean little. Everything he has in Candlekeep he hard to earn.”

Astarion shrugs. “I’m sure he’s worked very hard since abandoning you.”

She gives him a warning look. “Can you please try to be nice?”

He grins. “I’m always nice.”

It’s a familiar refrain now. He has the sharpest tongue of anyone she’s ever met, an ability to eviscerate a person in the span of a sentence. His sharp edges have dulled some, now that he doesn’t see every person he meets as a potential threat. 

“We both know that ‘nice’ for you simply involves not stabbing people.” 

He laughs. “I’m wounded, darling. You know I only stab people who deserve it.”

She stops herself from bringing up how they met and the knife he’d held to her throat. “Roland said he had something that could help us with my research, so let’s just hear him out. You don’t have to like him or get along with him, but I would really like to at least look at some of the books they have here before they kick us out for bad behavior.”

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know I have never been kicked out of any establishment.”

“Oh and the pale elf listed in the banned patron’s book at the Waning Moon was just a coincidence, was it?”

“Very much so.”

“It said the elf used the word porcine.” 

Astarion examines his nails. “It’s hardly a crime to have a good vocabulary, my dear.”

The teasing is lighthearted, and a welcome distraction as they enter the strange, black metal gates that lead into Candlekeep. Set into the metalwork is an image of a castle with flames set atop each of its towers, the gates themselves tower over them both, huge and ominous. The nearer they draw, the less this place feels like a city of scholars and far more like a fortress. 

A tall, elven man meets them at the gates. He wears flowing robes in deep purple, and his fists are carefully wrapped. He moves fluidly toward them as they approach. “Names?” he asks. 

“Uh…Liv Vires,” she answers. 

“Astarion Ancunin,” Astarion says with a slight bow and wave of his hand. 

The man nods. “You are expected. The Gatewarden’s office is just inside.” 

She exchanges a glance with Astarion who seems to be cataloging the protections and security. Once they are out of earshot he hisses, “Closed tighter than a patriar’s purse.”

“And that’s just what you can see,” she whispers, noting the way the magic of this place clings to every surface. 

In response, Astarion slips his hands into his pockets in a pantomime of innocence. Liv stifles a laugh even as she smooths her traveling cloak, hoping that despite the hours of walking she looks just as put together as Astarion does. She’s a step behind him as they enter the Gatewarden’s office. 

The Gatewarden is a sturdy, half-orc woman with pale green skin and dark, magenta hair. She’s unarmed, but that means nothing in a place full of archmages and other magical types. Her brother, Roland, stands nearby, shifting uneasily from foot to foot as they approach. 

He looks much the same as he ever did, though his brown, curly hair is longer now. He also has the sparse beginnings of a beard. His dark blue robes suit him, and despite the nervousness, he looks well. His eyes, dark like their father’s watch her as they approach the Gatewarden. 

He offers a smile and a wave as they approach, looks as if he is about to say something, but is cut off by the Gatewarden stepping forward. “Welcome, Seekers. Scribe Roland, can you confirm the identity of these visitors?”

Roland seems to stand a little straighter as if surprised by the decorum suddenly required. “Um, yes. This is my sister, Liv, and her partner, Astarion.” 

The Gatewarden looks satisfied. “And what have you brought as a contribution to the library?” 

Was she supposed to have brought something? She knows it is customary for Seekers to bring knowledge to add to Candlekeep, but Roland hadn’t mentioned it. She does have a few tomes of note pilfered from Sorcerous Sundries, but she’d rather not part with them. She’s fairly certain Astarion doesn’t want to let the Necromancy of Thay go either. 

Roland steps in. “My sister is one of the saviors of Baldur’s Gate. She has a meeting with the First Scribe to tell her story. That is her offering.”

The Gatewarden doesn’t appear impressed but nods anyway. “Very well, you both are welcome in the Court of Air. In order to enter the library, you must meet with the Keeper of the Emerald Door who is available in the morning. You may go.”

Liv cycles through a series of etiquette lessons that don’t seem to cover this situation very well, and settles on a nod and thanking the Gatewarden as they exit the office. 

None of them speak until they’re comfortably out of earshot of the office. Roland shakes his head and is the first to speak up. “Sorry, I really thought that she’d be a little less intense since you’re here on my invitation. I..uh…I trust you had a good journey.” His words are awkward, punctuated by a nervousness she wasn’t expecting. 

“It’s good to see you, Roland,” she offers with a smile. She’s not sure what to do with her hands or if she should hug or wave or something else altogether. It’s been years since she’s seen him, and it feels odd to not do something . 

It turns out to be the exact right thing to have said. Roland smiles, more genuinely this time as he exhales, shoulders relaxing. “It’s good to see you too. And you must be Astarion.” 

Astarion’s smile is strained, his tone a touch too light, too practiced to be entirely authentic. “How very nice to meet you. What were you saying about a meeting with the First Scribe?”

Roland leads them down cobblestone streets that slowly come to life as they wend their way deeper into Candlekeep. It begins to feel less like a fortress and more like a city with people and taverns and life. It’s still quieter than Neverwinter ever was, and the shift is a little jarring. 

“With what Percy told me of the nature of your research, I thought that you’d perhaps want access to the libraries here. It is typically required to present an ‘entrance-gift’ to be granted access to the library itself. However, considering your renown, and the fact that Volothamp Geddarm is the only person who has written down any of your story, I convinced the First Scribe that could be your entrance gift.”

There’s something poetic about the idea that one must add to the knowledge of the library in order to participate in the learning taking place here. “That makes sense. It’s fine with me.”

“But perhaps one should have asked first,” Astarion says, words honeyed but laced with something sharper: a warning. 

Rather than responding to Astarion, Roland ushers their evening along. “I thought we could get some dinner together. And then you have a room waiting for you at The House of Rest.”

“The House of Rest? An entire city of the best and brightest in Faerûn, and that’s the name you give your inn?” Astarion scoffs. 

Liv offers Roland a smile. “That’ll be lovely, I really appreciate you making those arrangements.”

They have an awkward meal, where conversation starts and stops and never does more than skim the surface of small talk. Roland deposits them at the House of Rest, and then promises to meet them in the morning. Liv allows the young tielfing woman at the counter to show her and Astarion to their room, tells her that it will be just lovely, and then as soon as the door is shut, she casts the spell to their own home.

Astarion remains quiet until they are inside, letting out a sigh that sounds like relief. “I thought that dinner was never going to end. Well, is he everything you expected?”

Liv has worked so hard to keep expectations out of this, to not get her own hopes up. But still, she can’t seem to not want things to be different, to be better than they are with her family. “It was fine. I’m sure we’ll get more comfortable as we talk more.”

Astarion shrugs. “Well, we’re here as long as you need, though there doesn’t seem much to do here beyond research. I might die of boredom.”

“You’re not a little interested in the reading material? In getting access to the library?” she asks, walking into their bedroom and sitting at her desk to remove her shoes. 

“Of course, I’m interested, my dear. I’m just not sure how much I love that you’re having to pay our way in with the story of our little adventure,” Astarion replies, undoing the buttons of his doublet.

“I’m sure they’re just wanting a history, an accounting of it all for their archives.”

“He should have asked you first.”

“I really don’t mind.”

Astarion pauses his undressing and narrows his eyes at her. “You never do! That’s not the issue. He should have asked first. He hasn’t seen you in years and the first thing he does is promise your time and your story to someone else.”

“To get us access to the library,” she says as she stands, a strange sort of defensiveness rising inside of her. Astarion doesn’t know Roland…but then does she?

“It’s alright that you don’t want to think poorly of him, but I have no reservations in that regard. I’m sure he did what he believed to be helpful, but Liv…just because you don’t mind doing something doesn’t mean it’s alright.”

“If it gets us access to the library, closer to answers for you and Karlach…it’s worth it to me.”

He shakes his head as he steps close, hand resting on her waist, his words are quiet, almost resigned. “That’s not the point, Liv.”

They let the conversation drop. 

***

In the morning, Roland meets them in the foyer of the House of Rest. Astarion insists on accompanying her to the meeting though she told him he didn’t need to. She casts a cloud of magical darkness to protect him from the sun for the first leg of the journey through the Court of Air, but soon enough they enter the high-ceilinged halls of the inner keep she’s able to dismiss it. 

Roland introduces them to a gnomish woman of indeterminate age who sits at a desk, her quill scratching across the surface of her parchment by magic alone. 

“First Scribe Heliena, may I introduce my sister, Liv and her partner, Astarion. Saviors of Baldur’s Gate.” The titles feel heavy most days, but there’s something about hearing them fall from her brother’s tongue that makes them feel almost impossible.

The First Scribe smiles at her. “Welcome to Candlekeep. If you’d like to stay, Scribe Roland, you may make yourself useful.”

Roland nods and sits at a small desk tucked in the corner, pulling out golden instruments and parchment and quills with a practiced air that tells her he’s done this before. She wonders what tales he’s heard and how hers will stack up. 

“I understand you have quite the tale. Would you consent to a zone of truth for the telling?”

Ever since learning that their story will be the price of entry here, Liv has considered what she can and should tell, the pieces of it most relevant for the history books, the things she should keep to herself. The parts of the story that are not hers to share. She can feel Astarion watching her carefully, the way his shoulders tense. There are some parts of his story he’d rather not have in the history books too. 

“I consent, but there are some aspects of the tale I won’t be sharing since they’re not mine to tell. I hope you understand.”

The First Scribe watches her with sharp eyes but nods once after exchanging a look with Roland. “Good enough. Please take a seat.” She gestures to the soft chairs in front of her desk, and she and Astarion sit across from her. Roland approaches carefully, sets down a small golden sphere. 

“This will record your story, and allow us to play it back for accuracy,” Roland explains as he presses down on the top of the sphere. It begins to levitate, bouncing slightly as it opens up. Roland retreats away to the desk in the corner, a stopwatch in hand.  

Then, magic fills the air, a golden circle of light that blooms in the center of the room before spreading out like a wave. Liv lets it wash over her and doesn’t put up a fight.

“You may begin.”

She starts at the beginning with the nautiloid, the tadpoles inserted in their eyes, barreling through Avernus and crashing on the Sword Coast. She doesn’t delve into everything, every twist and turn of those first weeks by the river. She says nothing of Astarion’s past. She reduces their friends to their best traits, and leaves out the hurt and the pain and the fear. This is a story about heroes after all. 

There are other things she doesn’t tell. She doesn’t share the Emperor’s true identity. She doesn’t talk about Ansur. She doesn’t mention the diabolist that got them to the Hells just that they had managed it. She doesn’t talk much about Shadowheart how they defied Shar, and doesn’t mention her parents or where they went after. She doesn’t talk about Minsc’s turn as the Stone Lord or about Orin’s doppelgangers. She is careful when she speaks about the Crown, says it was destroyed rather than simply fished out of the Chionthar and then returned to Mystra. Some things shouldn’t be sought after. 

But she unflinchingly explains her decision, letting Orpheus transform and then running him through with his own sword. The world should know the sacrifice that was made, and that it was not hers. She’s called a hero, but she did not make the heroic choice in the end. It is knowledge she will always carry. She knows the limit of her goodness in ways others don’t. But even here, she cannot find it in herself to regret it. She simply mourns that there was no other way. 

Astarion sits silent, but alert through her story, simply watching the quill that dances across the parchment while the First Scribe listens. She glances towards her brother a few times, but he is unreadable, strictly professional, eyes never leaving his parchment. She supposes this is neater than having to tell the story again even if it is impersonal. 

When it is done, Liv feels tired and wrung out. The First Scribe smiles. “Thank you for your contribution to the library.”

Roland approaches slowly, taps the top of the sphere, and snatches it out of the air before handing it to the First Scribe along with the notes he’d taken. Liv only catches a glimpse, but it appears to be timestamps and different parts of her story, broken down into sections. 

The First Scribe produces a pass that they can give the Keeper of the Emerald door, granting them access to the library at large. And then they are dismissed. 

Astarion hangs close, as if aware of just how much this telling has drained her. “So, now that we’ve jumped through all the requisite hoops, are you going to tell us what it is you thought would help us with Liv’s research?” 

Roland smiles. “Come with me.”

He leads them through more labyrinthine hallways, and Liv loses track of where they are. A part of her stops caring anyway. She wishes she could ask for a moment alone, some time to catch her breath. It’s been nearly three months since the defeat of the Netherbrain, and she thought she was fine. But the bone-deep exhaustion she felt near the end of their adventure has somehow crept back in with this telling, and she just needs a moment. But she won’t get it, not without drawing undue attention anyway. So she just follows her brother. 

Roland pauses outside of a door. “They’ve been waiting all morning to meet you.”

Liv glances at Astarion and then back at her brother. “Who has?”

Roland smiles broadly as he opens the door. “Your cohort.” She stares at her brother in disbelief. Did he put together a research team? For her?

***

Astarion doesn’t like Candlekeep. He had expected that a city full of scholars and libraries would be rather interesting to experience, solitary even. Candlekeep isn’t like that. In fact, there always seems to be someone around, someone keeping an eye on him. 

At first, he takes it as a point of pride that he looks dangerous enough to warrant such attention. It is a surprise to be watched not for his beauty but for the suspicion of chaos. But as the days wear on, he realizes that it’s far less to do with him and far more to do with the fact that the denizens of Candlekeep are just fucking nosy. 

The nicest thing he can say about the place is that he can travel much of it freely during the daylight hours. Sunlight can cause plenty of damage to fragile books and scrolls, so much of the library doesn’t have windows by design. It is nice to be able to move about the populace during normal hours. It’s almost possible to pretend he’s not a spawn here. Or it would be if, in the spirit of finding a cure for his condition, Roland hadn’t recruited a gaggle of scholars who spend their days asking him asinine questions and watching him with banal contemplation. 

It was entertaining at first, and a sort of novelty. While not all of them fit the tired trope of inexperienced and socially awkward scholar, it’s still fun to poke back at them as they pester him with questions. They ask him the most ridiculous things about blood and the sanguine hunger. They have him do tasks and then drink blood only to do the same tasks again, looking for differences in speed or movement. There seems to be no shortage of people interested in helping with his condition, but sometimes he wonders if they’re actually interested in helping him or simply interested in observing strange phenomena.

The scholars, the cohort , Roland calls them, were his gift to his sister. The best and brightest members of the Avowed at Liv’s beck and call. If there are answers to be found here, they will find them. So Astarion puts up with their questions and the way they watch him. It’s only for a tenday anyway, no Seekers are permitted to stay longer. 

He doesn’t exactly appreciate feeling like a fucking experiment, but one afternoon a scholar named…something…it starts with a G, probably? Anyway, the scholar asks, “I read that vampires and their spawn can scale walls. Is that true?”

“What do you mean, scale walls?” he asks with a huff of frustration. How is this supposed to help him walk in the sunlight?

“Like…walk right up a wall.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He never once saw Cazador do anything of the sort, and he certainly hasn’t tried. Walking up walls. They cannot be serious.

The scholar tucks a strand of hair behind their ear. “Um…have you tried though?”

Astarion sips from the wine he’d been drinking simply to give him something to do with his hands and sets it down on the table as he stands. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” It’s not. Not by a long shot, but it’s hard to remember that when he’s about to attempt walking up a fucking wall. 

He places his foot against the stone wall of the room he’s been meeting the scholars in, and then, feeling like he’s about to end up on his ass sighs deeply and tries to bring his other foot up. The world…shifts. He is standing on the wall as if it is the floor. He takes several more steps forward in wonder. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he screeches as he stomps along the wall, walking on it as if it is the ground itself. Two hundred years he’s been able to do this and he’s finding out now ? He can hear Cazador’s laughter in his head. 

“Get out!” The scholars stare at him in disbelief, but he’s not interested in an audience right now. He bares his fangs and snarls in their direction. “I said, get out!” 

***

“I’ve got it from here,” Liv assures Glenna and the other scholars who had come to find her. Apparently, after discovering he can walk up walls, Astarion had kicked the scholars out of the room. She’s not sure what they expected his reaction to be to something like that, but it’s clear they were surprised that he wasn’t simply thrilled with the knowledge. They’d rushed to where she and Roland were studying down in the archives, and she’d immediately abandoned her work. 

“Will you tell him we’re sorry? He seemed really upset.”

Liv nods. “I will.” She waits for the group to disperse down the hall, and then she knocks on the door before stepping inside. 

The room is seemingly empty as she enters. It’s cozy like many of the rooms here at Candlekeep. A fire crackles in the far end, and there are comfortable chairs scattered throughout for reading and studying. There are scrolls and books and parchment abandoned on tables and chairs, left behind by the scholars in their rush to leave following Astarion’s outburst. 

“If you’re here to tell me to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.” Astarion’s voice sounds far away, and she glances up at the ceiling, where he hangs, looking as though he is walking on the ceiling just like it’s the ground. 

“I don’t think you owe anyone an apology,” she says. And she means it. 

“Really?” He’s half-obscured by shadows, arms folded. 

She sighs. “Really. But I would like to know what you’re doing on the ceiling.”

He paces along the ceiling like he’s trying to break a hole in the stone. “I could apparently always do this.” There’s a hint of panic in his voice, a frustration she’s not quite sure how to combat. Astarion’s past is an abyss, a dark and twisting thing that seems to always follow them. Some days he falls back into it, and it takes days to claw himself back out. The path forward for him isn’t always clear…isn’t always linear. She’s sure it’ll get easier with time, but it doesn’t always feel like it is getting easier. 

“Well, it is a little on the nose, isn’t it?” she says, keeping her tone light.

He freezes. “Why do you say that?”

“A vampire on the ceiling…” she teases.

“If you compare me to a bat, I will throw a dagger at you.” There’s no rancor in the words, he’s even smiling a bit. 

“If the shoe fits…” 

He huffs a bit but begins making his way back to the ground. He looks tired, haunted. She’s pretty sure he’s counting down the days until they leave Candlekeep. She stays where she’s standing, letting him decide how close he wants to be. He approaches slowly, face drawn.

“I always knew that Cazador kept our true potential from us. That’s why he wouldn’t let us feed on ‘thinking creatures’. But to be reminded of it…like this…with an audience…I…” His words drop away as he approaches her, he stops a few feet short of her. 

“It felt like a weakness anyone could exploit,” she says, and he finally, finally meets her gaze. His crimson eyes are dark like bruises in the gloom of the room. 

“Sometimes I wish you didn’t see me so clearly,” he looks away, towards the crackling fire. 

She steps close, but not quite touching him, in case he doesn’t want her to. But he just looks at her and doesn’t move away. She moves slowly, reaching up to cup his cheek. His eyes fall shut as he leans into her touch. 

“We can stop at any time, you know. We can leave Candlekeep, go somewhere else.” They’ve only been granted the customary tenday stay of all Seekers, and she’s toyed with asking for more but hasn’t yet. She knows now that she won’t. 

“We don’t need to leave. I just need the afternoon off of being a science experiment, I think,” Astarion says. “Go back to your research. I’ll just…hang around.”

It’s a dumb joke, and it’s not that funny, but hearing him joke about this fills her with relief. “You know, you could send your siblings a no context sending spell, ‘Guess what? You can walk on walls. Hope the Underdark doesn’t suck! Bye!’.”

That startles an authentic laugh out of him. “Can you imagine? Petras would be too stupid to figure out what was even happening, he’d forget what I said.”

And the abyss has been averted. 

***

Candlekeep suits Liv, Astarion thinks. They’re relaxing comfortably in the reading room that’s become the little headquarters of the cohort that Roland built. A few of the scholars are still in the room, but he and Liv have retreated to the nook at the far end, sitting opposite each other on the comfortable bench. 

He’s supposed to be reading, taking notes of anything helpful in the book she’d handed him, but he can’t seem to focus. 

This is Liv’s element. She has five books stacked beside her and another two open in front of her while she takes notes as she reads. The candlelight isn’t strong enough in this corner, so she’s summoned her own light, and it bobs lazily around her, casting her in golden hues. Her dark hair is loose, tossed over her shoulder. She looks different from the Avowed, more comfortable and casual in her sweaters and jackets than their blue robes, but no less fitting in this place. She is beautiful and confident. More sure of herself here than he’s ever seen.

For all his dislike of the place and way he feels ill at ease…Liv is…at home. She thrives amongst these people talking about books and spells and theories. She’d make a good scholar. She’d be an asset here. 

One of the scholars approaches them, and Liv pauses her reading to converse in soft tones. He barely follows the conversation, and is instead struck by her patience, her knowledge. The scholar retreats with a smile, with purpose. Gods, she belongs here , doesn’t she?

“You’re staring,” she accuses, attention back on her book. 

“You’d make a good Avowed,” he says, words snatched out, quiet. 

Liv looks up at him and then smiles softly. “I think that’s a compliment.”

“You’re good at all of this.” He says instead of the question he really means to ask. Would she want to stay here, forever? He could…learn to like it if she did. He’s not sure it’s even an option, but if she wants this…well, they’d figure it out, he supposes. 

She nods, but her eyes are searching his, clearly trying to find whatever has inspired this line of conversation. “I do enjoy it, but the crime rate is a little low here for my liking.”

“Really?” 

She smiles softly. “Why don’t you pick the city we’re going to next?”

He’s surprised by how relieving it is to hear that. He doesn’t show it. Simply nods and turns his attention back to his book. “I will.”

***

“You already know the answer to your problem,” Roland says one late afternoon as Liv continues to pore over dusty tomes and fragile scrolls. Their time is running out here in Candlekeep. They only have another two days, and while Liv has learned so much, she still isn’t closer to an answer…to a cure. “It would solve both the problems, really.”

“Oh?” She looks at her brother. She has been coming at their problem from every angle she can. She has studied the tadpoles to see what it was that had kept the sunlight from hurting him. She has learned more than she believed possible about vampires, their origins, and blood curses. She has even, without admitting to Gale, looked into the divine, to resurrection and creation and she has plenty of theories but still no answers. 

He gives her a knowing look. “A Wish spell, Liv.”

She sighs. It’s a dangerous spell to learn, and even then…she knows the risks and she’d take them, but some part of her is holding out hope for a true cure…something to help more than just Astarion. “I know. I’m hoping for…more?”

“More than a Wish spell? Many wizards have fallen in pursuit of less, Liv.”

She says nothing. 

“What does it matter anyway? Even if you cure his condition , he’ll still outlive you.” Roland’s words are unyielding. She knows he doesn’t mean it in meanness…that this is just logic and practicality, but it hurts all the same. 

She and Astarion haven’t talked about just how much time they will or will not have. Cure or not, he will outlive her. It’s hard to say how long she will have, her proximity to and use of magic will likely extend her life, but for how long she is uncertain. But they will have time. Plenty of it if that’s what they both want. Their relationship is still new enough that talk of forever, of promises beyond right now feel too premature. 

“Even if I wasn’t in love with him I’d want to find a cure,” she says, as she shifts books around. “He wants to walk in the sun again, feel alive. He deserves that.”

The silence that follows drags on long enough that she looks up at her brother. He is simply staring at her as if she is someone he hasn’t seen in a long time. “What is it?” she asks. 

“You’re… you’re just like her…you know.”

Brelia. It might be the best compliment she’s ever received. She’s been fastidiously avoiding this particular conversation, happy enough to just spend time with Roland. Though they have avoided all talk of their family, save for Percy, since her arrival. But now that he’s brought it up…she can’t seem to stop herself from asking the question that’s haunted her for years. 

“Why did you stop writing?” 

The room is still; the silence deafening. “Because I wanted you to stop writing me.”

The fact that it’s the truth or that she’s imagined much worse answers than this doesn’t stop the words from landing like blows. It doesn’t stop the sting of them. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh.” It’s all she can manage. 

She still hasn’t learned not to bet on losing dogs. She cannot help but hope when it comes to her family. She winds up betrayed every time because somehow, it always comes down to this: they did not want her. Not even Roland. 

“When I came here, I wanted to be someone else. Escape from everything that had happened. Your letters were just a reminder…a connection back to our family. It was selfish, but it worked. And time passed and I got better, but then…it had been so long, and I didn’t know how to talk to you. I didn’t know if you’d want to hear from me anyway.”

She swallows hard, forcing the tears not to fall. “I always wanted to hear from you.”

He can’t seem to meet her eyes. “I….I told myself for so long that not reaching out to you was about protecting myself…about keeping our parents at a distance. But I think it had a hell of a lot more to do with the guilt. I left you alone in that house.”

“You got yourself out and didn’t look back. I find it hard to fault you for that.”

He laughs, but there’s no joy in it. “I don’t. If our roles were reversed…would you have left me?” 

She wouldn’t have. She would have gotten them both out or stayed and fought together. “I…” her words falter.

“I know the answer, even if you’re too kind to say it.”

“We were all victims, Roland. I think doing what we had to survive…it’s okay. I don’t blame you; I blame them.”

She has always known that she was not the only victim of that house, of her parents. She has always known that her siblings suffered in different ways, but suffered still the same. Their parents are cut out, absent from their lives, but the legacy of pain remains. They had tried to twist and break them, pit them against each other, make them rivals, and Liv cannot think of a better revenge than finding love and family in what remains of it anyway. She forgives Roland completely and Percy too. 

Roland nods. “I missed you.”

It is such a relief to hear those words. “I missed you too.”

And it’s a start.

***

The tavern here isn’t crowded, but their corner is busy, filled with scribes and researchers they’ve met during their time here, all come to bid them goodbye. They have not found many answers here, just more questions. Liv insists they’ve found better questions, and she seems to believe that they’ve made some headway and found some direction for a cure for both him and Karlach. Which is nice, but Astarion wishes they had more to show for it. They’ve certainly put in the hours studying. 

Liv sits at the far end of the table, locked in some sort of debate about conjuration theory, and he’s trying not to count down the minutes until they finally get to leave Candlekeep. He sits in the corner, a bit apart from the group. They’re a smart bunch and mostly leave him be, which he is grateful for. He’s spent more than enough time in their company, and while there might even be some of them he genuinely likes, they’re leaving once night falls and he’s not really sure what the point of this send-off is anyway. Except that Liv is smiling and laughing and seems…happy. She’s been happy here. 

Roland sits down beside him. Astarion has avoided Roland where possible. He’s glad that Liv has forgiven her brothers and found a way forward, but he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to forget that they could have helped her and didn’t. It is perhaps ungenerous of him, considering his own history, but they were not compelled. They were not threatened with pain or death. They had choices. And rather than protecting her or saving her, they’d left her or used her. Percy for his own reasons, and Roland for his.

Roland spends a long time looking at his drink before he speaks. “Listen, I’m under no illusions. You don’t trust me.”

Astarion simply smiles. “Well someone should be skeptical, it certainly won’t be Liv.”

“You should know, she and I…we talked. Or started to anyway. We’re fine now.”

“How nice for you,” Astarion replies. He doesn’t give a shit if Liv wants to forgive and move on, but it doesn’t mean he has to. 

“You’re not exactly making this easy,” Roland says. 

“And why should I? You’re not as bad as Percy. He used her while you simply abandoned her, but don’t expect me to praise you for giving her the time of day now your parents are removed from the picture.”

“You don’t know what it was like we didn’t have a choice-”

He will not be lectured by Liv’s brother about suffering. “No. I’ve known far worse, and you did have choices. You chose to leave. You chose to turn a blind eye when as an adult you knew what your parents were doing to a child. You’re ten years older than her. You chose to not help. I know what it’s like to truly have no choices…and you…you could have changed everything for her. Do not talk to me about choices. You made plenty.”

“My sister and I…we did the best we could to protect her.”

“And it was still woefully inadequate and yet…she forgives you anyway. Do not forget what a gift that is,” he takes a big drink of his wine. It’s awful. 

“I’m grateful she found someone like you,” Roland says, finally. 

“Devilishly good-looking?” he quips without joy or humor. 

Roland shakes his head. “Someone who will fight for her. She deserves that.”

He told her once that she deserved far better than she’d gotten. He’d meant it then even without knowing everything he does now. Her childhood was a constellation of pain. A gilded cage. It’s a cosmic unfairness he cannot right, so he just has to settle for holding people responsible when Liv won’t. 

Perhaps there is some part of him that hates this so much because her brothers made the selfish choices and he very nearly did too. If Liv hadn’t been there to pull him back from the fucking abyss…he would have made the selfish choice. He doesn’t like thinking about who he was…what he almost became. 

There’s a lot he could say, inroads he could make, but he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he simply says, “She deserves everything.” And he means it. 

***

The sun hangs low in the sky, and Liv and Roland walk along Candlekeep’s battlements. She’s already said every other goodbye and thanked the scholars and friends they’ve made during their stay. Their help will be invaluable as she keeps searching for answers, for a cure, for a miracle. But this is the goodbye she’s been dreading the most. 

“Well, it’s official, your boyfriend doesn’t like me,” Roland says with a slight smile as they walk, the stone echoing beneath their footfalls.

“I prefer partner…boyfriend makes me feel like I’m fifteen or something,” Liv replies. 

“Your partner hates me.” 

Liv shakes her head. “He doesn’t hate you.”

Roland laughs. “He does though. Percy said he was prickly and mean, but I didn’t quite believe that.”

Liv shrugs. “He’s nicer to you than he is to Percy.”

“Really?”

“They tolerate each other,” she says with a shrug. It doesn’t much bother her. Her own feelings about her family are complicated as is. She’s not about to tell Astarion how to feel about her brothers. 

“Glad to know it could be worse.”

“We’re never going to be one big happy family.” And as she says it, she knows it’s true. Sometimes your family is simply your partner and your two brothers who barely get along. And it’s still better than anything before because at least this time it’s true. “I’m glad to have you back though. I’m glad to have this. The rest of it will work out or not.” 

Roland approaches the stone wall of the battlement, rests his palms against the stone, and stares out into the sea. “I’ve been trying so hard not to put any expectations on this. On you, especially. But I just…I want us to be a big happy family. How stupid is that?” 

“It’s not stupid, Roland,” Liv says, joining him at the wall. 

“I don’t even know what family is supposed to look like. They took that from us.” His voice is so angry, so bitter, so at odds with everything she’s seen from her brother this trip. She wonders where this was days ago. Why now? Why is he finally vulnerable just as she’s about to leave?

“We can make it our own, you know. Whatever we want this to be it can be. I just want something true. We’ve had enough lies and obfuscation for a lifetime.” She only wants family if she’s getting something real from him. She doesn’t want obligation or duty or any of the things she’s been loaded up with her whole life. She’s fine with it being hard and messy, but it has to be honest. 

“Let’s start small then. Monthly family dinner. Me and you and Percy. What do you think?”

All of them together? It sounds…right. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

He steps closer to her, a bit awkward and unsure, but pushing through anyway. He drapes his arm across her shoulders, and together they watch the sun dip below the line of the horizon. 

“Where are you headed next?” he asks. 

“Astarion’s found a job for us to do in Amn. And then, I think we’re due for a visit with some friends.” 

“That sounds…really nice.”

She pulls away so she can look up at her brother. “I’ll miss you, Roland. I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you here. You’ve got an incredible life surrounded by good people. I’m so glad you invited us here.”

His dark eyes are wet with unshed tears. “Do you know how incredible you are? I should have said so before…when you told your story to the First Scribe…I couldn’t believe it. All those things you did. You saved the world. I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

The words take her by surprise. Feel suddenly too big to hold. “Thank you,” she says as she hugs her brother. She remembers what Percy said, that after Brelia died they all broke in their own ways, but that Roland had broken further away. It must have been relieving to break down far away from their family, but it had to be isolating too. She wonders if they’re reclaiming back a piece of that today too. 

“Come on, we shouldn’t keep Astarion waiting,” Roland says. And she casts one last glance toward the sea, trying to commit every bit of this moment to memory. Because at least for this moment, she feels whole.   

[fictionalafvsmybeloved]

pork tank from mother 3

I can only find very small pictures of this one.

I have never played Mother 3 and the info on the wiki is sparse, all I know is that it's manned by captains who argue more than they fight.

The design is very generic, like a drawing you might make if all you knew of tanks was a brief description written in a letter a friend wrote to you while he was traveling overseas.

It has a wide chassis and wide tracks, this lets it turn on the spot better and gives it a low ground pressure. It also seems pretty slow.

I have no idea what the conversion for "defense" to RHA is, but it can be defeated with bananas and basic magic so I'm gonna put it somewhere between "thick cardboard" and "corrugated tin".

I have next to no info on the gun, so I'll have to make some assumptions. Its likely very low velocity, given the short barrel, and may use Napoleonic-era style cannon balls and two-piece ammunition.

How the gun is aimed is entirely unknown to me because the damn thing has NO VISIBLE OPTICS.

I don't even have much of a read on crew numbers, it could be from a single person to a full crew of five.

And they all have to get in and out through the single hatch that takes up ~80% of the turret roof. There might be a driver's hatch and there might even be tow hooks, I can't tell.

FINAL SCORES

Credibility: 4/10 - That’s not how it works!

Coolness: 4/10 - METAL BAWKSES

BONUS

Here's the Steam page for Super Lesbian Animal RPG. It's good, play it

[mysticstronomy]

CAN LIGHT BE CREATED OR DESTROYED??

Blog#230

Saturday, September 24th, 2022

Welcome back,

One of the most enduring ideas in all the Universe is that everything that exists now will someday see its existence come to an end. The stars, galaxies, and even the black holes that occupy the space in our Universe will all some day burn out, fade away, and otherwise decay, leaving what we think of as a “heat death” state: where no more energy can possibly be extracted, in any way, from a uniform, maximum entropy, equilibrium state. But, perhaps, there are exceptions to this general rule, and that some things will truly live on forever.

One such candidate for a truly stable entity is the photon: the quantum of light. All of the electromagnetic radiation that exists in the Universe is made up of photons, and photons, as far as we can tell, have an infinite lifetime. Does that mean that light will truly live forever? That’s what Anna-Maria Galante wants to know, writing in to ask:

“Do photons live forever? Or do they “die,” and convert to some other particle? The light we see erupting from cosmic events over a verrrrry long past … we seem to know where it comes from, but where does it go? What is the life cycle of a photon?”

It’s a big and compelling question, and one that brings us right up to the edge of everything we know about the Universe. Here’s the best answer that science has today.

The first time the question of a photon having a finite lifetime came up, it was for a very good reason: we had just discovered the key evidence for the expanding Universe. The spiral and elliptical nebulae in the sky were shown to be galaxies, or “island Universes” as they were then known, well beyond the scale and scope of the Milky Way. These collections of millions, billions, or even trillions of stars were located at least millions of light-years away, placing them well outside of the Milky Way.

Moreover, it was quickly shown that these distant objects weren’t just far away, but they appeared to be receding from us, as the more distant they were, on average, the greater the light from them turned out to be systematically shifted toward redder and redder wavelengths.

Of course, by the time this data was widely available in the 1920s and 1930s, we had already learned about the quantum nature of light, which taught us that the wavelength of light determined its energy. We also had both special and general relativity well in hand, which taught us that once the light leaves its source, the only way you could change its frequency was to either:

1.   have it interact with some form of matter and/or energy,

2.   have the observer moving either toward or away from the observer,

3.   or to have the curvature properties of space itself change, such as due to a gravitational redshift/blueshift or an expansion/contraction of the Universe.

The first potential explanation, in particular, led to the formulation of a fascinating alternative cosmology: tired light cosmology.

First formulated in 1929 by Fritz Zwicky — yes, the same Fritz Zwicky who coined the term supernova, who first formulated the dark matter hypothesis, and who once tried to “still” the turbulent atmospheric air by firing a rifle through his telescope tube — the tired light hypothesis put forth the notion that propagating light loses energy through collisions with other particles present in the space between galaxies. The more space there was to propagate through, the logic went, the more energy would be lost to these interactions, and that would be the explanation, rather than peculiar velocities or cosmic expansion, for why light appeared to be more severely redshifted for more distant objects.

However, in order for this scenario to be correct, there are two predictions that should be true.

1. ) When light travels through a medium, even a sparse medium, it slows down from the speed of light in vacuum to the speed of light in that medium. The slowdown affects light of different frequencies by different amounts. Just as light passing through a prism splits into different colors, light passing through an intergalactic medium that interacted with it should slow light of different wavelengths down by different amounts. When that light re-enters a true vacuum, it will resume moving at the speed of light in a vacuum.

And yet, when we observed the light coming from sources at different distances, we found no wavelength-dependence to the amount of redshift that light exhibited. Instead, at all distances, all wavelengths of emitted light are observed to redshift by the exact same factor as all others; there is no wavelength-dependence to the redshift. Because of this null observation, the first prediction of tired light cosmology is falsified.

But there’s a second prediction to contend with, as well.

2.) If more distant light loses more energy by passing through a greater length of a “lossy medium” than less distant light, then those more distant objects should appear to be blurred by a progressively greater and greater amount than the less distant ones.

And again, when we go to test this prediction, we find that it isn’t borne out by observations at all. More distant galaxies, when seen alongside less distant galaxies, appear just as sharp and high-resolution as the less distant ones. This is true, for example, for all five of the galaxies in Stephan’s Quintet, as well as for the background galaxies visible behind all five of the quintet’s members. This prediction is falsified as well.

While these observations are good enough to falsify the tired light hypothesis — and, in fact, were good enough to falsify it immediately, as soon as it was proposed — that’s only one possible way that light could be unstable. Light could either die out or convert into some other particle, and there’s a set of interesting ways to think about these possibilities.

Originally published on bigthink.com

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, September 28th, 2022)

“WHAT IS THE POLARIZATION OF A VACUUM??”

[thegeminisage]

plan of sitting atop zelda to farm her for parts ruined by 1. i have adhd and to get all my parts would be up to 90 minutes of doing absolutely nothing 2. star fell, had to get it

got lucky! she was really close to the great sky islands so i've gotten back to her by flinging myself off those

oh boy she's taking us through this storm lol

just doing this for an hour seems excruciating. she's been doing it for 10,000 YEARS. i'm gonna kermit

AAAAAUGH another fallen star................this is HORRIBLE i already gave up a naydra opportunity to sit up here! if i go get this one i definitely won't get lucky enough to get back on her back, she's head towards the sparse and UNEXPLORED skies over the gerudo desert so i'd have no way to fast travel back to her...i wish i could leave a medallion on her head

i got another spike so it'll be at least another 10m anyway...might as well go

goodbye babygirl 😢

i got it! AND without the bike lol

i've left epona out forever but right near a stable. felt bad so i let her run on the road to a different stable where i finally boarded her, except first she disappeared for a second?? which was a terrifying little glitch lol

forced my bike into this big cave with me which was good because i got to skip what would have been a very difficult climb in cave-rain

unfortunately even though i was a cheapskate about it i can't get it out of here :( rip. i hate having to spend fans...

a chest ALSO vanished on me :/ weird 1.0 glitches........

i only have one korok seed left in this little area but its next to a lynel :///

might as well try to fight it while i'm here i suppose.........

i actually got him?! man NICE......

even tho lurelin was my fav place from botw (and totk, bc i simply Love The Beach) i feel kinda bad coming here now like let me PAY you for stuff!!! i have moneyyy

but those koroks arent gonna fly themselves.........

awww the skyview tower rito is here. now that i've got them all he gets to get a wife and settle down here lol

ah! the proper heart shaped lake had SO many fairies but i dropped my bike before they loaded and then they loaded as it dropped which ofc scared all of them away :(

ugh my bike despawned AGAIN...............life is so hard all the time

ugh!!!!!!! i thought about going to get that shrine in eventide i missed since i'm sort of in the area but like. i'd have to kill ALL those pirate monsters again. this is why i turn shrines on sometimes. i want them to be a surprise but also missing one like that fucking SUCKS

naydra sighted again, but i feel like i see her a lot around here so i'm passing her up for now. i got shit to do which requires my bike. also the little list i used to know how much stuff i need was on r*ddit and it's shut down now lol so like

ok nvm i got my last seed on this route and she's literally right above me. i'd have to ditch the bike anyways

god i love riding dragons. can't wait until i can do this with farosh

i think she's about to go into the depths...maybe i'll see if i can stay on and go with her lol

oh maybe not...she's going sharply upward suddenly

girl where are we GOING???

oh no i think this may be it, she's descending again and there's a chasm ahead...

OHHH there's zelda in the distance :( i can't go to her now!!! i might literally not be able to lol, she's not near anything. but i really wanna see if naydra will go into a chasm while i'm on her back...

i climbed a spike to be sure i wouldn't fall off lol

OHHH THIS IS LITERALLY IT SHES GOING DOWN

and the kakariko chasm too! i haven't dove in here yet...

just realized she's going to be an eternity getting to the bottom. it takes ME forever falling at maximum velocity

still cool af tho

oh, i haven't been down this chasm but i have explored and lit up the world beneath it lol. let's see which direction she goes ig

I SEE A LIGHTROOT FROM HERE........i'm not ready to leave her yet tho. if i'm really lucky she'll take me right to it

there's an area, which tbh i'm just as happy to pass over for now...and a yiga hideout!! and we are literally going in the right direction. so cool.

ok bestie this is my stop! ugh i just realized i took video in the chasm but now when we went through it...whatever

i'm glad zelda doesn't come down here. poor girl.

i used the springs here and there were so many i sprung myself up to the ceiling lol

i see a flux construct and a lightroot. i could go down and fight it but that would make getting the lightroot much harder unless i spent fans on a bike.......

fuck it ig

easy peasy! i havent fought one of these guys in awhile and i'm pleased to see how much easier it's become

oh duh. i can just fast travel back to the lightroot i just got. i don't have to climb lol

oh COOL i'm just in time to see naydra exit the chasm!

this is such a fun little lightroot trail. every time i get to one another pops up. i actually see TWO from here. they're so addictive...

omg you can fuse stuff to the master sword 😭 i was out of weapons to fuse this flux heart thingy to and i tried and it worked but it is SO UGLY :( im so sorry fi

i am near the spring of wisdom i think!! im gonna ignore this lightroot (HARD.......) and see if there's a poe statue guy there

...i think i flew right into it. i cheated by checking my interactive map lol

oh no just kidding i was climbing to the ceiling! i flew OVER it. anyway i got there

DARK!!!

HOOD!!!

GIRL YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM DARK LINK AT LAST

dark link my beloved.......................................

onto this last lightroot and then i'm outta here. too bad i didn't collect any zonaite...

oh good god. im on top of a mountain which means valley down here. UGH i have to climb

no way. bike time. this is what it's for.

lol and meanwhile i pass a monster camp with zonaite and can't be assed to get off the bike. and i've just seen ANOTHER lightroot. we are in hell

ok yeah i've had enough. i don't see anymore lightroots, i'm getting out of here. even though i REALLY need zonaite.

GOD i love dark link armor...night speed UP babey. i only wish u could upgrade it (monkeys paw activates and i have to fight hands to do so)

i basically only have 3 areas left on the right side of the map - lanayru which i do not wanna do bc i hate the snowy mountain and the waterway makes me nervous, and the zora area, and death mountain. and i guess the tingle islands so that's technically 4

gonna start w the zora area tomorrow unless a different mood strikes me - there's a shit ton of caves and seeds i missed all clustered together that will be easy to knock out

for now tho bed. sorry for anyone scrolling past this i did the whole day in one post lol

[kreuzaderny]

An Earth-sized Planet around an M5 Dwarf Star at 22 pc

We report on the discovery of an Earth-sized transiting planet (Rp=1.015±0.051R⊕) in a P=4.02 day orbit around K2-415 (EPIC 211414619), an M5V star at 22 pc. The planet candidate was first identified by analyzing the light curve data by the K2 mission, and is here shown to exist in the most recent data from TESS. Combining the light curves with the data secured by our follow-up observations including high-resolution imaging and near infrared spectroscopy with IRD, we rule out false positive scenarios, finding a low false positive probability of 2×10−4. Based on IRD's radial velocities of K2-415, which were sparsely taken over three years, we obtain the planet mass of 3.0±2.7M⊕ (Mp<7.5M⊕ at 95% confidence) for K2-415b. Being one of the lowest mass stars (≈0.16M⊙) known to host an Earth-sized transiting planet, K2-415 will be an interesting target for further follow-up observations, including additional radial velocity monitoring and transit spectroscopy.    

[clovemerablog]

Andy Bull single review: Big Deal

Subtle yet evocative, motivational through determination, Big Deal is a delightfully relatable single that proves your circumstances hold less power over you than your attitude toward them.

Review by Clove Mera, 10 September 2024 Single released 05 September 2024 Track written by: Andy Bull

Andy Bull

Big Deal by Andy Bull juxtaposes defeat with determination, silence with fullness, using a sparse soundscape that holds your interest as carefully selected musical elements are woven into the composition as the song progresses.

Same as last week, I'm browsing new music on Apple Music to find something to review. I see a handsome young white guy with a smirk on the cover art on a single called Big Deal. I'm curious more than anything else, curious what the tone of this song will be. My mind wondered at the possibilities, one which included the song being a response to his deniers. I came to this conclusion because the artist's outfit and the effects on the image made it look like an old school photo. In a way, I was right about the contents of this song.

Promptly, Bull sets the tone for this song, his opening line a lamentation, "I used to be a big deal/ I had my own showreel". The soundscape is barren, lonely, with little more than synth organ playing bar length chords, which themselves sound like warped and distorted minors. Bull's opening stanzas are a threnody of all that he's lost, and fascinatingly, he doesn't come across as braggadocios singing "You know I had my own tv show", but relatable. i too have been battling and writing about feelings of defeat. With his conversational cautionary tale style of delivery, you the listener have arrived at this low state of mind with Bull, where it doesn't matter where you were but where you find yourself. It's relatable.

In fact, I come to root for Bull when he sang, "Man I thought I was the new wave… And now I sound like an old guy/ coming down from a long high". His vocals come alive on that "guy" line, with a scrumptious raspy fry. Later, he delivers his chorus hook, "Don't cut me off" with smooth theatre-like vibrato.

Bull deploys the trumpet as a musical motif for determination. It appears in the space between verse and chorus, as though his state of mind is shifting steadily from glum to fiercely motivated.

Musically, Big Deal could be studied for its soundscape's final form, full and satisfying yet subdued in its velocity. The most that's ever happening is that trumpet, with the softest of kicks and a steady rhythmic snare. Towards the end, Bull adds a new layer of intrigue for the ear with a simmering square-like synth which complements the drum rhythm, itself gaining hi-hats as the song's dreamy outro continues.

While I was listening to Big Deal I was reminded of the legend Judy Garland's By Myself, performed live on her television show 60 years ago. If you were to compare the two then Bull would come out short, and I don't want to diminish the success of his record, rather I want to draw similarities between the twos' messages and composition.

They begin in a place of defeat, accentuated with a glum musical composition. The song progresses and both Garland and Bull straighten up their backs, pull up their boot straps and find a new strength within themselves, as orchestral elements fill out the soundscape.

Bull reminds you that he hasn't given up, singing "Don't cut me off/ Don't write me out" while Garland bitterly embraces that she alone must build the life she envisions, singing, "I'll try to fly high above/ For my place in the sun/ I'll face the unknown/ I'll build a world of my own."

Bull is talented, I appreciate his adept creative decisions, but Big Deal follows classic soul sensibilities which are not attuned with my personal taste palette. Even with that said, I have been replaying the trumpet and the "Don't write me off" hook in my mind quite often, I can see it someday acting as an empowering self affirmation. That will be where the success of Bull's single is found, even though it wasn't something I immediately fell in love with, it stayed with me. And for who knows how long?

Big Deal is available to stream right now, listen to it on YouTube below. Please visit my blog to find more music reviews and follow for future posts!

[oxean-et-al]

Worldbuilding Shard: Superluminal Travel Mechanism

Inspired by some good old-fashioned Doctor Who technobabble (specifically, "particle manifesto")

There exists a field in space, the Subbarayan-Mikazuki-Albertson (SMA) field, which is described by a single scalar value, called the "(local) SMA frequency." The SMA field varies slowly and continuously across both space and time, with a spatial displacement of 1000 AU corresponding to an SMA change of magnitude roughly 10^-10, and a similar change over the span of roughly 5 years. Except in extreme cases, the values of the SMA field range from between -6 to +8 Hz.

The entire current state of the field can be calculated from the precise value of any one point, though this extension holds less well for time, as the values of the SMA field evolve chaotically over time, though not over space. Since a perfect representation of the SMA field would require perfect (and thus, non-physical) measurement of the local SMA frequency, only finite (imprecise) knowledge of the current state of the field is possible.

However, as non-perfect knowledge of the field is possible, through non-perfect measurement of the local SMA frequency, hope remains. A measurement accuracy of at least 10^-6, but ideally 10^-10 or better, is sufficient for using the SMA for navigation. However, this non-perfect knowledge also introduces a limit on how accurate the spatial mapping is, with an accuracy of 10^-10 giving near-perfect knowledge within 300 LY, usable knowledge within 750 LY, and then basically useless data after that.

SMA-Modulation-based travel works by modifying the SMA frequency within a spherical volume of space. The SMA field will attempt to 'correct' any inconsistencies in value by dragging the modified region of space to the nearest one with a matching SMA frequency. The greater the distance between source and target, the greater the difference in SMA frequency, and the greater the travel velocity. However, 'the closest point with the same SMA frequency as the bubble' is not necessarily 'where you want to go,' so for longer trips, plotting multiple travel periods in sequence is necessary. 

The greater the difference in SMA frequencies, the more extreme the fringing effects near the edge of the bubble. These are very dangerous, and long-distance spacecraft have engines that are designed to modify a region of space much larger than the vessel itself. Specifically, the standard for civilian long-distance travel engines is set at a radius of 10 km. 

A commonly-used metaphor for how this method of travel works is "tricking" the universe into believing that the ship is actually somewhere else.

The method of travel is imperfect; with shifts in the local SMA frequency potentially changing in hard-to-predict ways, possibly leading to craft being sent very off-course, especially if the divergence happens on one of the early legs of a long-distance trip. In well-inhabited areas, these values are regularly measured and updated, so mishaps are rare (and often due to either pilot error or negligence in updating the value-set). However, in more sparsely populated regions of the galaxy, places that can go many decades without an SMA cartography mission, the increased drift that has accumulated unreported can cause drastic errors, and ships being flung off into the dark, some never to be seen again.

[delectablywaywardbeard-blog]

Pioggia nel weekend, poi nuvole e nebbia

Piogge sparse su tutta Italia nel fine settimana a causa del passaggio veloce di una perturbazione atlantica e poi una fase di alta pressione. “Ma in inverno alta pressione raramente è sinonimo di bel tempo con sole prevalente. Infatti, da lunedì a mercoledì prossimi su gran parte delle regioni il cielo si mostrerà molto nuvoloso o spesso coperto, soprattutto al Nord”, osserva Mattia Gussoni,…

[drainageteam01]

What is Erosion?

Erosion is the wearing away of surface material by moving forces such as water, wind, and ice. Erosion carries rock fragments, soil, and dissolved materials from one place to another. This is distinct from weathering which does not involve movement.

Water erosion is the most important force for erosion. Rainfall can cause erosion when it splashes onto the ground, or when it collects and flows into tiny rivulets and streams. Rivers erode the land they travel through, forming canyons and shaping coastlines over time.

Wind

Wind is a natural erosion agent and can displace sand, soil and other debris. It can also sculpt rock formations, such as the ventifacts that form in deserts.

The erosion power of wind is greatest where surfaces are bare and dry, as in arid climates. Wind erosion is often caused by agricultural practices that remove vegetation and expose the soil surface, as well as land clearing for development and oil and gas drilling.

When winds reach a certain threshold velocity, they start to erode and transport the particles they carry. The amount of material moved is related to the particle size and adhesion, as well as the surface condition and the velocity of the wind.

Once the wind carries particles far enough, they drop back to the ground as sediment or re-enter the air as dust. Some of this dust can be carried many kilometers, even across oceans.

Wind erosion is often the cause of dust storms, which reduce plant productivity and cost the economy through high cleaning bills, absenteeism and transport delays, sand-blasted crops, and lower retail sales. It can also reduce the water holding capacity of the soil, which can lead to reduced crop yields and increased salinity in groundwater supplies. It also increases the risk of invasive species and changes in the biodiversity of an ecosystem.

Water

Erosion is the action of water and wind that breaks down rocks, carries away rock particles, and deposits them at a new location. It can happen in both the mountains and at sea level, but is more common in dry regions, such as deserts, where vegetation is sparse. Erosion is the most common cause of land deterioration. It can lead to soil deterioration and degradation of crops, and can even destroy civilizations.

Water erosion starts with raindrops that erode the surface of the ground as they hit and splash. Over time this can add up to significant damage, especially when rainfall is heavy or occurs over long periods of time. Rainwater erodes the surface of the earth, carving out valleys and shaping mountains. As it flows downstream in rivers and streams, it erodes the bedrock, carrying away sand, silt, clay, and organic matter. This sediment is deposited elsewhere, usually in lakes and watercourses.

The severity of erosion depends on a number of factors, including slope, soil type and condition, the nature of the underlying rock, the amount of plant cover, the intensity and duration of rainfall, and temperature. The most important off-site effect of water erosion is the transport of sediment into lakes, streams, rivers, and oceans, where it causes sedimentation of the bottom of lakes, disrupts the ecosystems of streams and rivers, and contaminates drinking water.

Soil

Erosion begins when dirt is exposed to abrasive forces. Wind can cause erosion by blowing dirt from a place where it has settled (eroding the topsoil), or by carrying soil particles across long distances (surface drift). Erosion destroys the most fertile section of the ground, which contains nutrients and organic matter that plants need to grow.

Water can also cause erosion. Flowing water can dislodge soil particles from their resting places. Flowing water can carry these particles down slopes and into streams and rivers. This kind of erosion is most common in arid and semi-arid regions. Water erosion is a major problem for farmers, as it can reduce crop yields and delay or inhibit the emergence of seeds. Erosion can also deposit sediments in downstream riverbeds, which can choke waterways and destroy ecosystems.

The most important factor in controlling erosion is restoring or maintaining ground-covering vegetation. Plants and crop residues that completely cover the ground can help prevent erosion by intercepting raindrops before they reach the soil surface. The best way to do this is to plant trees and grasses that are resistant to harsh weather conditions.

The destruction of natural plant cover and the use of modern farming methods that leave soil bare are among the most significant causes of erosion. These activities can make erosion happen faster and damage the ability of soil to hold moisture and nutrients, which in turn affects crops.

Vegetation

The breakdown and movement of rock, sediment, soil, nutrients or pollutants is called erosion. It may be caused by wind, water, ice or gravity. Erosion often occurs after weathering, but it differs from weathering in that material is moved and dropped somewhere else (gravitational erosion), whereas weathering happens in situ.

Plants, especially roots, can help hold soil in place. When the vegetation is removed, as in deforestation or plowing for agriculture, erosion increases because there is no longer anything to keep the soil in place.

Erosion can be accelerated by intense rains, river flooding or waves breaking on the beach. Erosion can also be caused by glacial movement or by the sudden uplift of land from shifting tectonic plates (gravitational uplift).

Thermal erosion describes how warm temperatures can cause permafrost to break apart along rivers and coastlines, eroding and transporting soil, mud and other materials down a slope. This type of erosion is also known as mass wasting, and it can reshape mountains and valleys, devastating communities in its path.

The sculpting of rocks by winds is another type of erosion. The sand dunes of the Badain Jaran section of the Gobi Desert are an example, as are the sculpted rocks of Arches National Park in Utah. Wind erosion is also responsible for the infamous dust storms of the 1930s in North America, known as the Dust Bowl.

[we-do-a-little-developing]

Creating an environment

Originally, I had planned for a circular dome arena with a singular boss. However, due to being bad, I couldn't achieve this. The main problem would have been in creating and decorating the interior of the dome due to working with curves and non-ideal angles. Eventually, I went for a storm drain design with an overhead road/train line. I genuinely do not know why.

I decided to deepen the basin and raise the walls, and the player start area with it as you can see below. I then applied a grid texture so that the entire thing wasn't a blinding light without actually making textures for it.

I then duplicated the road/track to break up the playable area and make it less monotonous, however it's still a little sparse. I added textures to the basin of greys getting slowly darker to create a gradient, and rebuilt the start area using a cube grid in the modelling tool so that I could better apply my stone brick texture to it

I was on and off about whether or not to have lights in the other tunnels, or in fact how many tunnels to have, but I eventually decided that tuning down the ambient lighting and adding neon lights made the visuals seem more coherent. I'm really getting my money's worth from learning how to make textures glow aren't I

I have also added placeholder objects. These should break up the environment, provide cover, etc. Problem is, I don't know what the actual objects should be.

This is a pile of tires in a fairly empty corner with a launchpad in them. The launchpad fires the player -1500x their X and Y velocity, flinging them across the map. This allows for more fun character movement, rather than just walking or using the sniper's dash. It took me a concerning amount of time to realise that it wasn't working as intended due to the fact that I hadn't placed this specific bouncepad in and only had one that launched you up instead. Due to the momentum this gives the player, I've heightened the invisible walls so they can't be launched out of the map.

[jcmarchi]

NASA’s Juno: Jupiter’s Winds Penetrate in Cylindrical Layers - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/nasas-juno-jupiters-winds-penetrate-in-cylindrical-layers-technology-org/

NASA’s Juno: Jupiter’s Winds Penetrate in Cylindrical Layers - Technology Org

The Juno mission finding offers deeper insights into the long-debated internal structure of the gas giant Jupiter.

Gravity data collected by NASA’s Juno mission indicates Jupiter’s atmospheric winds penetrate the planet cylindrically, parallel to its spin axis. A paper on the findings was recently published in the journal Nature Astronomy.

NASA’s Juno captured this view of Jupiter during the mission’s 54th close flyby of the giant planet on Sept. 7. The image was made with raw data from the JunoCam instrument that was processed to enhance details in cloud features and colors. Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/SwRI/MSSS Image processing by Tanya Oleksuik CC BY NC SA 3.0

The violent nature of Jupiter’s roiling atmosphere has long been a source of fascination for astronomers and planetary scientists, and Juno has had a ringside seat to the goings-on since it entered orbit in 2016. During each of the spacecraft’s 55  to date, a suite of science instruments has peered below Jupiter’s turbulent cloud deck to uncover how the gas giant works from the inside out.

One way the Juno mission learns about the planet’s interior is via radio science. Using NASA’s Deep Space Network antennas, scientists track the spacecraft’s radio signal as Juno flies past Jupiter at speeds near 130,000 mph (209,000 kph), measuring tiny changes in its velocity – as small as 0.01 millimeter per second.

Those changes are caused by variations in the planet’s gravity field, and by measuring them, the mission can essentially see into Jupiter’s atmosphere.

Such measurements have led to numerous discoveries, including the existence of a dilute core deep within Jupiter and the depth of the planet’s zones and belts, which extend from the cloud tops down approximately 1,860 miles (3,000 kilometers).

Doing the Math

To determine the location and cylindrical nature of the winds, the study’s authors applied a mathematical technique that models gravitational variations and surface elevations of rocky planets like Earth. At Jupiter, the technique can be used to accurately map winds at depth.

Using the high-precision Juno data, the authors were able to generate a four-fold increase in the resolution over previous models created with data from NASA’s trailblazing Jovian explorers Voyager and Galileo.

This illustration shows that Jupiter’s atmospheric winds penetrate the planet cylindrically and parallel to its spin axis. The most dominant jet recorded by NASA’s Juno is shown in the cutout: The jet is at 21 degrees north latitude at cloud level, but 1,800 miles (3,000 kilometers) below that, it’s at 13 degrees north latitude. Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/SSI/SWRI/MSSS/ASI/ INAF/JIRAM/Björn Jónsson CC BY 3.0

“We applied a constraining technique developed for sparse data sets on terrestrial planets to process the Juno data,” said Ryan Park, a Juno scientist and lead of the mission’s gravity science investigation from NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Southern California. “This is the first time such a technique has been applied to an outer planet.”

The gravity field measurements matched a two-decade-old model that determined Jupiter’s powerful east-west zonal flows extend from the cloud-level white and red zones and belts inward.

But the measurements also revealed that rather than extending in every direction like a radiating sphere, the zonal flows go inward, cylindrically, and are oriented along the direction of Jupiter’s rotation axis. How Jupiter’s deep atmospheric winds are structured has been in debated since the 1970s, and the Juno mission has now settled the debate.

“All 40 gravity coefficients measured by Juno matched our previous calculations of what we expect the gravity field to be if the winds penetrate inward on cylinders,” said Yohai Kaspi of the Weizmann Institute of Science in Israel, the study’s lead author and a Juno co-investigator. “When we realized all 40 numbers exactly match our calculations, it felt like winning the lottery.”

Along with bettering the current understanding of Jupiter’s internal structure and origin, the new gravity model application could be used to gain more insight into other planetary atmospheres.

Juno is currently in an extended mission. Along with flybys of Jupiter, the solar-powered spacecraft has completed a series of flybys of the planet’s icy moons Ganymede and Europa and is amid several close flybys of Io. The Dec. 30 flyby of Io will be the closest to date, coming within about 930 miles (1,500 kilometers) of its volcano-festooned surface.

“As Juno’s journey progresses, we’re achieving scientific outcomes that truly define a new Jupiter and that likely are relevant for all giant planets, both within our solar system and beyond,” said Scott Bolton, the principal investigator of the Juno mission at the Southwest Research Institute in San Antonio.

“The resolution of the newly determined gravity field is remarkably similar to the accuracy we estimated 20 years ago. It is great to see such agreement between our prediction and our results.”

Source: National Aeronautics and Space Administration

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[tempi-dispari]

New Post has been published on https://www.tempi-dispari.it/2023/05/24/quintessenza-rock-senza-paura/

Quintessenza, rock senza paura

Tante volte il termine alternative è fuorviante. Le sonorità appartenenti al genere sono ben precise, delineate da non poter essere confuse. Eppure accade. Quando poi si ascoltano i dischi, ci si rende conto che sono tutt’altro. Per i Quintessenza è così. La band si presenta come alt metal. Le sonorità, la struttura, perché no, la perizia, non rientrano in quel genere. O, se si preferisce, li allontanano. Personalmente definirei il disco dei nostri più come un hard rock contemporaneo. Molto ben suonato, arrangiato e prodotto. Cantato in italiano. Per certi versi richiamano i Timoria migliori, il che non è poco. Contrariamente al gruppo di Renga e company, i nostri sono più variegati.

La base resta rock, ma le influenze e le alternanze sono decisamente ampie. Il disco apre con una introduzione elettrica di poco meno di due minuti. Tanto basta a delineare le coordinate generali del lavoro. Si parte con una base percussiva di chitarra, basso e batteria. Una voce filtrata recita una frase. Dopo di che il brano si apre. Chitarre in power chord liberi disegnano la melodia. Si alternano passaggi con ritmiche mute che ben spezzano l’andamento. Una ritmica serrata porta alla chiusura. Vola via è un prosieguo del primo brano. Ma subito cambia. L’intensità si affievolisce per lasciare spazio alla voce accompagnata dal basso e dalla chitarra pulita in arpeggio. Il ritornello è elettrico.

Power chord liberi alternati ad arpeggi distorti. La sovrapposizione di pulito e distorto fa da base alla seconda strofa. Tensione che esplode nel ritornello. Ottimo il break per il solo. Il ritmo rallenta. La chitarra si stacca su note veloci. La reprise è a pieno ritmo su un fraseggio diverso. Uno special che sfocia nuovamente nel ritornello. Il finale è a piena velocità con un secondo intervento solista. Il filo cambia del tutto atmosfere. L’intro è affidato alla sola chitarra pulita accompagnata da un vocalizzio. Scoppio elettrico con l’ingresso della chitarra. Notevole il lavoro del basso che segue una linea propria.

La medesima linea che rimane iterante sulla strofa mentre la sei corda si destreggia su armonici naturali. Il ritornello riporta su coordinate di rimiche piene. Le due fasi si alternano. Questa volta prima del refrain c’è uno stop con solo basso. Un passaggio veloce che dona movimento al brano. La composizione muta ancora. Stop and go porta ad una base di batteria percussiva, basso presente, chitarra su armonici e voce su vocalizzi. Continuano gli stop and go creando un andamento ritmico coinvolgente. Notevole il lavoro della voce sulle battute finali. In aria di ballata hard rock la successiva 27 anni. Arpeggio di chitarra, batteria minimale. Note sparse della seconda chitarra a creare atmosfera.

Il ritornello cresce intensità e di tensione diventando elettrico e a ritmo sostenuto. Ottimo il connubio testo andamento strumentale. Allo stesso modo azzeccata la scelta della seconda chitarra in a solo sotto il cantato. A metà circa cambio di passo. Ritmica cadenzata di una delle due sei corde. La seconda tiene power chord aperti. Preambolo dell’a solo teso, lento, bluesy. La reprise è sul ritornello che tiene la medesima struttura precedente. Sul finale entra un nuovo riff di chitarra a richiamare il cantato che diventa solo vocalizzi. Si rialzano i toni con la successiva Il velo.

Qui è il basso a fare la differenza e a dominare il brano. L’intro potrebbe essere stato scritto dai Korn. Dopo le prime fasi elettriche, il basso prende il comando dettando l’andamento melodico. A doppiarlo una della chitarre. La seconda ancora su armonici. Di quando in quando accordi pieni sottolineano i passaggi della voce. Il ritornello vede il basso percussivo, un incattivimento della voce e l’arrivo di un coro maschile. La strofa successiva è più acustica. In contrapposizione con il cambio successivo, pieno e distorto. Molto ben orchestrati gli stop and go che aprono su uno special ritmico trascinante. Finale affidato al ritornello.

Arriva Stallo download. Ritmi serrati, chitarre piene. Un brano praticamente metal. Il cantano è molto ritmato. Le chitarre in palm muting creano un notevole muro di suono. Apertura sul ritornello che si fa melodico. La struttura si ripete con alternanza di ritmiche piene, armonici e reprise. Ottimamente diversificato l’utilizzo delle due chitarre che si fanno dissonanti. Raramente si doppiano. Lo special dissonante apre ad un nuovo cambio. Muta anche la ritmica del cantato. Si rallenta. È la rincorsa che porta al solo. Nuovo stop and go per riprendere sul ritornello. Il finale è caratterizzato da un crescendo di intensità sia per gli strumenti sia per la voce. Ritmo incalzante condotto dal rullante e fine.

Balordo è un brano con influenze techno. Il riff portante di chitarra è stoppato, supportato dai suoni di tastiera. Strumento che resta presente nell’evolvere della canzone. Una strumentale di quattro minuti che mostra tutta la perizia dei musicisti. La batteria fa sentire per la prima volta triplette di doppia cassa. Le chitarre sono in perenne movimento. L’andamento si spezza a metà con un rallentamento. Preludio del solo. Un intervento rock, urlato, che alterna passaggi veloci a momenti melodici. Il finale è affidato ai soli suoni di synth. Su lidi più ‘nu metal’ la successiva Eternità oscura.

L’intro richiama gli Evanescence di Bring me to life. Break con le due chitarre che si differenziano nuovamente. Batteria in controtempo. A richiamare la band di Amy Lee è la doppia voce maschile urlata. A metà un cambio radicale. Basso da solo introduce un passaggio ritmico davvero interessante. Quasi post punk. Dissonanze, voce narrante. Il tutto deflagra nel solo. Il basso tiene ferma il riff base. Il duetto voce maschile voce femminile rialza i toni generali. Si corre e si urla fino al finale caratterizzato dalla ripresa dello special. Nuovamente arpeggi hard rock per Clara. Più che hard rock il riferimento potrebbe essere ai System of a down. È un po’ come se la band di Tankjan avesse incontrato i Guns n’ roses.

Nel ritornello la composizione decolla facendosi più rabbiosa. Si placano i toni sulla seconda strofa. Ad ammorbidire i suoni e creare contrasto con quello che avviene successivamente c’è l’accompagnamento dei una chitarra acustica. L’intervento solista è in pieno stile aor. Il ritornello questa volta è caratterizzato da uno stop veloce in cui rimane solo la voce. La struttura circolare fa riemergere l’arpeggio iniziale. Quintessenza inizia con un arpeggio acustico, voce recitata. Con l’ingresso della batteria, su ritmi non lineari, la seconda chitarra torna sugli armonici. Toni pacati, voce melodica. In contrasto con il ritornello, elettrico, potente, ritmico caratterizzato da diversi passaggi pieno vuoto.

Si riprende sul solo arpeggio pulito. Seconda chitarra, basso, batteria e voce rientrano assieme. Molto valido e caratterizzante il lavoro della batteria. Nuovo ritornello. A circa ¾ deciso cambio di passo. Il brano si fa quasi sinfonico. Tastiere, accenti, fraseggi melodici. Il tutto porta ad un’apertura prog anni ’70. Su questa torna la voce recitata che lascia poi spazio ad un intervento solista della chitarra. Finale solo batteria e voce. La Manifestazione inizia con un ritmo rock. Chitarre ancora divise. Una tiene il ritmo base mentre la seconda accentua. Più lineare il ritornello. Incisivo il riff portante. Una semplice nota in pennata alternata ma che dà un andamento molto ritmico.

A sottolinearlo ci pensa la seconda che effettua una strumming muto. Il brano cambia dopo il secondo ritornello. Diventa incalzante, diretto. L’alternanza di pieno vuoto offre una grande base ritmica. Penultimo brano Giungla. Forte connotazione ritmica iniziale che scema con l’ingresso della voce. Il brano si placa. Note dilatate accompagnano un arpeggio pulito. Prima del ritornello il ritmo torna sostenuto. È il basso ad introdurlo prima dello scoppio complessivo. Le due chitarre ancora si differenziano. Una su registri acuti, l’altra sui bassi. Pieno vuoto evidenziano l’armonico artificiale in stile Gibson di una delle due. Si rallenta sulla seconda strofa così come si riaccelera nel refrain che diventa cadenzato.

Special con stop and go differenziano il finale che avviene sul ritornello seguito dallo special ritmico. Chiude il disco Il vaso di Pandora. Ballata semi acustica. Le sei corde viaggiano ancora su binari ben distinti. Una acustica a fornire la base ritmica, la seconda che acentua con interventi saltuari e gli armonici. Batteria e basso sono leggeri cone il contesto richiede. Più che apprezzabile la voce, melodica, struggente, coinvolgente. Il solo di chitarra non rompe le atmosfere, anche se distorto. Note languide, lunghe e acute. Sul termine la voce effettua semplici vocalizzi che lasciano poi spazio all’accompagnamento iniziale.

Concludendo. Non è facile descrivere il lavoro dei Quintessenza. Nella descrizione dei brani sono state lasciate fuori diverse sfumature che rendono solo ascoltandole. Di certo siamo di fronte ad un disco ottimamente strutturato. Il gruppo dimostra di avere le idee ben chiare su cosa vuole ottenere dalla propria musica e sa come ottenerlo. Non ci sono arzigogoli tecnici. Sarebbero stati inutili. La preparazione emerge ad ogni solco. Ascolto dopo ascolto si fanno presenti dettagli sfuggiti nel passaggio precedente. Neppure si può dare un riferimento stilistico univoco. Definire il gruppo alternative metal è riduttivo. Ancora peggio, fuorviante. È rock. Senza confini, senza limiti. Senza paure o compromessi. Bravi.

[sitarchive]

Report CI:JG:13052011

A report from Investigative Analyst Josie Gorecki on the nature of ‘space clowns’ published 13/05/2011.

The report of Hendel Meer in Case #1657 gives us more information about the uncommon parasite referred to as space clowns. Despite their informal name, their official designation is corydon arthropoda and they are considered to be part of the more complex group of macroparasites. 

Meer described the clowns’ eyes as “bulbous, black and shiny - not dissimilar to insect eyes” which is an accurate description of their appearance but an imperfect one for their actual construction and function. Their eyes are much more focused to particular stimuli than our own; they hunt for victims primarily based on light and movement. The structure of their eyes allow them to spot sources of light from lightyears away, while movement is used to identify victims while closer in to their meal. It’s fascinating how they’ve clearly evolved for their environment - corydon arthopeda are generally found in deep space, as far from sources of gravitational pull as possible, so they’ve evolved ways to spot their prey in an extremely wide range. Their eyes are composed of an interesting transparent material similar to bone with two layers of it acting as a sort of telescope, thus allowing a form of sight without exposing their vulnerable insides to the void of space. Furthermore, they spend years at a time completely motionless to preserve energy until they spot a source of food at which point they can move with extreme speed and strength to take it down quickly. 

The astronaut Hendel Meer was very lucky in his encounter with the clowns. It was unusual for him to encounter the parasites so far into our solar system and I suspect this greatly affected their ability to hunt. He described them as moving slowly and spending an inordinate amount of time simply watching him during his time spent trapped inside the shuttle, which is incredibly out of character for their usual ambush predation. This could be due to the increased gravitational pull of our system compared to deep space - these are unusual conditions for them and it could be making them sick. Moving around would take much more energy than they are accustomed to, and this would be particularly worrying for a creature such as corydon arthopeda which eats so sparsely and spends so much of its’ time conserving energy. I would hypothesise that Meer not only survived through luck but through certain choices he made - his decision to breach the seal on the remaining pressurised areas of the ship with an improvised explosive as he fled on the escape pod was very effective, as it exposed the clowns attached to the ship to the force of the ship attempting to equalise with the non-existent pressure of space. Examining the bodies of the clowns present on the ship’s remains showed that they imploded under the sudden increase of pressure, as they were evolved to withstand the lack of atmosphere in space and even that momentary rush of air pressure was too much for their structure. It is evident that at least some clowns survived this event since only three bodies were found on the ship and Meer described seven parasites watching him. Meer shut down every single system in the escape pod that emitted any kind of light after he hypothesised that the creatures were attracted by the light - based on the evidence that they had mainly congregated around the windows of the ship. This did remove his ability to pilot the pod, instead having to wait for rescue, but prevented the parasites from following his trail. 

The official recommendation of S.I.T is that any ship travelling through a location where corydon arthopeda have been sighted or are likely to be should have no windows in order to prevent any light from attracting them. Furthermore, any thrusters should be turned off at an appropriate distance from the location and the ship should glide through on vestigial velocity. There is no friction, so the ship should not slow down. If you are planning to change direction while in this zone, we would recommend you simply take another route. 

N: The FCSP has drafted some sketches of the corydon arthopeda based on Hendel Meer’s descriptions.

The FCSP has asked for feedback from Hendel Meer on the accuracy of said sketches, and what parts of the sketches may be correct. He was unavailable when we reached out to him.