#spectral system

[ghouljams]

Hang on. May I ask what Hush’s pronouns are ? Because I used she/her in my last ask (I’m still giggling like a school girl because of your answer it was so cute), but in another one I saw your refer to the demon as a « big brother figure », so I’m a bit confused and afraid I made a mistake… ?

To make this ask a little more worthwhile, I somehow imagined demon Price scolding the other demons the same way Captain Price would scold his team when they mess up something or do nonsense ? You know, I’m picturing the frown, the crossed arms, the military stance and the gruff voice. And the team looking at their demons and snickering when seeing how their Captain and his demon are so similar to each other sometimes.

Hush prefers he/him but all the demons will respond to any pronouns, and I will answer asks regardless of pronouns for them. So, no mistakes! I haven't had pronouns specified for anyone but Threat, and Hush hasn't had much written for him!

As for Price(the demon) scolding the rest of the demons, I agree, I think it happens more often than anyone would like to admit. But they also end up scolding the rest of the 141 with Capt. Price since the demons are technically their handler's responsibility. I think in the field it sounds a lot like 2 different comms channels talking through each other lol

"How's the perimeter?" Soap asks, checking out from behind cover.

"Holding," You hum, "Hey do you know what Price is yelling about?" Soap makes a face.

"Which one?" Soap pushes off the wall to sweep the room. You listen for a moment to the demonic yelling, muffling Soap's steps as you do.

"Both of them," You conclude. It sounds like both of them. Your commanding officers both markedly upset over something that you don't really have the patience to parse. You're busy making sure your charge stays alive long enough to make it to the demo point.

"Dunno," Soap says after a moment, you snap your silence around Soap's gun as he fires, no reason to give up position over one unlucky soldier, "Maybe someone did somethin'."

"That doesn't narrow it down. Someone's always done something," You tell him.

"Could be marital problems," Soap jokes. Now that's an idea. One you're happy to jump on.

"Mom and Dad are fighting," You laugh, shaking sound from the shadows to get a feel for who's nearby. Clear for the moment, and your silence is holding strong. Price is still yelling at you of the little connection you've established between yourself and your demonic companions. The human Price sounds like he's reflecting her annoyance over Soap's comms. Two halves of the same conversation neither of you are paying attention to.

"Alright I've got another one," Soap keeps his gun high as he slinks through the empty corridor.

"Hit me." You like this game, Soap's jokes aren't exactly high comedy but they're certainly entertaining.

"What do you call kids in the military?" He sweeps around a corner, and starts down a flight of stairs.

"No clue."

"Infantry-" You snort "-Got that one from Ghost," Soap smiles stopping at the tunnel entrance. Allegedly blowing this point should send the rest of it speeding towards collapse. Something about structural integrity that you weren't listening to. Soap knows what he's doing, you trust him.

He shoulders his bag off and sets it on the ground, quick to start pulling out wires and switches. You're passed a pair of wire strippers as Soap's movements start getting more purposeful. His brow furrows, he stops, leans back to look at what he's already pulled, then goes back to the bag.

"Fuck me," Soap groans digging through his bag, "we forgot the C4." You stare down at the open bag, the yelling from your COs suddenly making a lot more sense.

"Huh." You eloquently sum up. Soap sits back on his heels. He makes a face, looking down the tunnel as he thinks. You're not sure what to do to help, this isn't exactly your area of expertise. Soap drums his fingers against the canvas.

"Where's-" He starts, rethinks, and looks at you, "Where's the sound go when you do your magic stuff?"

"It doesn't go anywhere?" You raise a brow, it's not some crazy magic, more scientific than anything else. Soap stares at you, waiting for an explanation. You sigh. "I stop the sound waves from happening or compress them down enough they're barely audible. It's the same with people, I either compress the parts that move or their air supply, but I'm not physically stealing sound." You explain, "That would be crazy."

"Right that'd be way more mental than what you just said," Soap gives you a sarcastic sort of nod. He looks back at the dead detonators and switches and grabs a handful of wires. "New plan," He tells you, "I'm going to make a noise, you're going to make it bigger."

"Not really how I work," You frown, crouching next to him. He takes the wire strippers from you, already building his noise maker.

"What do you mean? You compress sound one way, I'd bet you can bump it up the other. Just need the waves big enough to cause some damage." Soap frowns twisting two wires together. You don't know, you don't think he's wrong but you've never made sound louder. No one's ever wanted things louder.

You don't have time to run a trial run, but you suppose the pressure of an active combat zone is as good a time as any to experiment. You've done stupider things. You can't think of any right now but you're sure there must be something stupider you've done.

Soap glances at you, for being the king of quiet you don't usually go this long without talking. That's one of the reasons you get along so well, the banter just keeps going. He looks back at his work, if you're quiet he's sure it's for a good reason. Now, he doesn't know for sure that his science is sound, but the fact that you're giving it any consideration is enough for him. It at least buys Soap a little time to try and come up with something else. Maybe he should radio Price, see if his demon can send over some black powder.

"Ok," you tell him just as he gets the sound grenade hooked up, "Let's try it. Sub-sonic, super-sonic, it's all sound right?"

"Close enough," Soap grins. He tosses you a spare switch and watches you click it a few times. The sound stutters, raising and plummeting just as quickly. You wince, click it a few more times with similar results. "If it doesn't work we tell Price and take the lecture," He assures you. If it doesn't work you'll both be fighting your way out with a lot of explaining to do.

"Ready?" He asks, setting the timer on the only idea either of you have come up with. You nod and hold your hands out.

"You might wanna get behind me in case this goes south fast." Soap nods, and tosses the makeshift noise machine into the tunnel. He tries not to think too much about how badly this could all shake out if this doesn't work as he takes cover.

It takes a moment the soft beep of the count down timer fluctuating as you grit your teeth and try to do whatever it is you're doing. You understand this stuff better than Soap, or he fucking hopes you do. Because if you don't you're both fucked. One of the beeps pitches low, but it shakes the dirt. Your eyes widen, your lips moving with silent calculations.

"Hey, uh, might want to plug your ears Mactavish," You suggest over your shoulder. Soap is quick to snap his hands over his ears as the rolling wave of beeps gets bone quaking. The tone bouncing low and growing ever louder, reminding him of the shitty bass in that one tech song Gaz likes.

Everything goes quiet. Then the noise rushes in, explodes from the little beeper like a proper bomb. Buffeting the tunnel in a way that almost looks like the Jerry-rigged switch broke the sound barrier. Soap's never heard anything like it, and honestly he hopes he never has to again. It does the job though, shaking loose anything that could've been called a tunnel until it collapses in on itself. Even with the buffer of his hands there's a ringing in Soap's ears that doesn't bode well. You turn to grin at him, and when you speak it sounds like you're underwater.

But who cares when you grab his face and kiss him. A quick excited thing before you're shaking him by his shoulders. Were you always that warm? Were the callouses on your hands always that soft? Did you always smile so wide?

Your eyes dart towards the stairs and you tug at him to get his gun up. "We have to go!" You yell, near enough to his ear that he can mostly parse it.

"I think you shattered my eardrums," He yells, picking off the first soldier to come down the stairs to investigate. Later, he'll ask about the kiss later. For now you both have a job to do.

[vladdyissues]

Vlad appeared in the kitchen, fragrant from a recent shower but not quite polished yet. His hair hung loose and damp, his shirttail draped over the waist of his trousers. His tie and cufflinks were also mysteriously absent. Instead of his usual glossy leather Chelseas, a pair of green and gold house slippers noisily scraped the floor.

Tension ratcheted Danny’s spine into a stiff rod, and he swallowed his last bite with difficulty. The memories of last night were easier to bury when Vlad wasn’t around. Now they clawed their way out of their graves and performed a provocative dance through his brain: entangled cores and entwined limbs; touching, gazing, the shared breaths; pulsing beats, the magnetic attraction. He was almost certain he would have done something really stupid if he and Vlad hadn’t come unglued from one another.

He stole a bashful glance at the man, wondering. Imagining. He dragged his focus back to the TV, his ears glowing pink.

No. Never. Not in a million years. Not in a billion years. It wouldn’t be right. He was fifteen and Vlad was—it didn’t matter because this was never going to happen. Period. The end. Case closed. Roll credits.

Familiar

[world-of-elissa-nax]

Magic is an influence in this world, though magic does not make one omnipotent. Magic is a type of dynamic energy. The exact origin and nature of this energy is hotly debated. There are those who believe magic is made up of the same spectral entities that sometimes visit this world, but ones that are so ancient that they have lost any sense of self. After eons of existence they coalesce into an atmosphere of sentient but will-less energy that can be coaxed to perform tasks with the right triggers. 

Another school of thought exists that acknowledges the similarity in magical energy to spectral beings, but holds that the two energies are still separate. They feel that the stable and pervasive nature of magical energy would not be possible if it were made up of previously separate beings, especially ones who seem to be so rare. Magical energy can also manipulate matter in ways that spectral beings cannot, which is the largest piece of evidence in favor of this theory.

[littlemoonglow]

I really liked the idea of half-ghost Jason, so I did my take on a design for him 😀

Unlike Danny, Jason's halfa mode is closer to Vlad since the death and rebirth didn't happen at the same time.

It looks more like what the person wants to project as vibe?

The spectral cloak was initially there look more ghostly, but then my brain cooked up the idea that it acted almost like a bunch of whiskers, sensing ectoplasm or potential threats around him (like an octopus, idk if it's funny or cursed 😅)

Jason would probably use (maybe abuse a bit) of his ghostly powers after Danny somehow purified the Lazarus waters in his system (Danny, head in his hands : I didn't mean to perform accidental halfa creation).

- - -

The Bats are not having a good time. There is someone killing off criminal left and right in Crime Alley and the culprit is extremely efficient and clearly trained.

No sign of entry at the crime scene. Not even a spec of dirt left behind.

Crime Alley has become suspiciously calm recently.

They whisper about a boogeyman, a red ghost.

(I honestly really want to continue this ❤) Edit: Here is Part 02!

[cyborb]

today on "how can I combine my interests": variations of volcarona based on stellar classification!

actual stars are classified based on their spectral characteristics and temperature/color from hottest (bluest) to coldest (reddest) with a strangely ordered letter system: O, B, A, F, G, K, M... why not do the same for this stellar moth?

some other info:

o-type volcarona are incredibly rare and are considered "shiny" pokemon

m-type volcarona can come in the largest variety of sizes from large enough to easily carry a person to about the size of a cat

k-type volcarona are the most common, with the higher temperature ones becoming increasingly more rare (and m is about as rare as g)

while there could be b- and a-type volcarona between o and f, the latter two are so rare that there's no reason to split the categories up further

alder's volcarona is the g-type one shown here, and the m-type one belongs to cyrus in my au

the pupa/cocoon stage is too short relative to the other two stanges to be considered its own separate evolutionary stage like other similar bug type pokemon

[marketnewsblog]

Trending Report on Spectral Recognition Laser Warning System Market

[limesquares]

Could you talk about the ‘dead god’s blood’ you keep mentioning?

Like what kinda god did it come from and how does the freak (Regan) get it 🌚

Aether, also known as giant’s blood, god’s blood, or sometimes quintessence, is a formless, superphysical substance and integral part of life for people in Balor. It is mined out from the colossal corpse of a dead giant whose skull rises over the city, and whose flesh-like remains lay beneath it. Below are concepts for how aether is mined.

 Pure aether (below) is extremely volatile and is contained by specialized materials, except for in specific laboratory settings.

While people like Regan (freak) can integrate it into their bodies, the majority of aether is used in infrastructure, a large circulatory system embedded into the city that keeps it functioning; like keeping railways operational (below) and heating the city to keep it from freezing over, among other things.

As for how someone can get their little freak hands on it, there are legal ways of doing this, and it helps to work at the corporation that monopolizes aether engineering. Although Regan got her spectrals as a result of a DIY bathtub infusion in grad school that she orchestrated all by herself :)

[starrierknight]

𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

You both like the thrill of the chase, but he likes being caught more. You were fully willing to take advantage of this fact (and him).

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 5.3k

pairing— mean!dom!gn!reader x bunny hybrid!sub!choso

cws/tags— dubcon, hybrid sex, predator/prey dynamic in an incredibly literal sense, flatmates to fuckers, biting, ear/tail pulling (I promise it makes sense), thigh riding, petnames (“bunny” & “pet”), degradation, humiliation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, choso is a closet pervert, implied masturbation at the start, this is a bit of a crackfic

Knock-knock-knock.

"Hey, are you free right now?" the unfamiliar, deep voice of your flatmate said, the sound muffled by the door.

You startled, quickly snapping your laptop shut, and straightening out your clothes and tugging up your shorts. The abrupt sound of the door and his voice had disrupted the peaceful cocoon of your solitude. The scent of your room, previously filled with the aroma of a fragrant candle, now carried a faint whiff of embarrassment as you hurriedly composed yourself. You cleared your throat, the dry rasp echoing in the room, and the sudden shift from the soft hum of your laptop to silence was palpable. 

"Gimme a sec!"

You sighed in frustration after having been in the middle of your, ah, private activities, acutely aware of the residual warmth on your skin and the lingering taste of a guilty indulgence on your lips. God, why now?

You walked over to your bedroom door, partially opening it.

You were greeted by the sight of Choso, your reserved flatmate. In all the time you had shared this apartment with him since you moved in, you had spoken to him maybe half a dozen times, at a push. Your knowledge of him extended to a slightly obscure and dark recollection of his appearance—you were pretty certain he had black hair and black eyes, for example. The scant details of his existence in your mind were like faint echoes, and you couldn't recall the last time you'd even heard his voice.

The atmosphere around him was enigmatic, much like the dimly lit corners of your apartment at night when he was most active. Your sense of familiarity with him was akin to touching something in the dark and trying to discern its shape by feel alone. You hadn't even exchanged more than a few words with him since moving in. 

So, it begged the question: Why now, of all Godforsaken times, had he knocked on your door? The uncertainty hung in the air, and you couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this rare interruption of your solitude. Nerves prickled your skin, and the soft buzz of anxiety hummed in your ears as you tried to read the situation.

His tall, broad, dark figure loomed over you in the hallway, his face hidden by the darkness. He had a lumpy-looking hoodie on, the hood drawn up over his head, and the strings pulled tight, making his silhouette rather unfortunately egg-shaped. In the dim light, the fabric absorbed the surrounding environment, giving him a spectral quality.

"I need to talk to you about something," Choso said flatly, his voice devoid of any discernible emotion.

"Something?" you repeated, the slight crease forming between your brows mirrored by a taste of irritation on your tongue.

The hallway closed in on you, and the tension thick between you, heightening your awareness of the details—his hooded silhouette and the soft hum of the apartment building's ventilation system added an eerie backdrop to the encounter.

Choso stared at you and said nothing. His inscrutable expression was like a dark void, offering no clues as to the nature of his issue. You huffed.

Reluctantly, you opened your bedroom door wider, inviting him to step inside and speak whatever his piece was. The hinges creaked softly, and a cool draft wafted in from the hallway, carrying the faint scent of the outside world into your personal space. As he entered, the rustle of his lumpy hoodie echoed slightly in the confined space.

You shut the door behind you with a soft click and walked over to your bed, plopping unceremoniously onto it. Despite your bedroom being considerably better lit by the soft candlelight scattered around your room, you still had a hard time making out Choso’s features clearly. Shadows danced across his lumpy hoodie, making his face remain hidden, and the flickering flames played tricks on your senses.

"Well?" you prompted impatiently, the sound of your voice breaking the silence and mingling with the gentle crackling of the candles.

He sighed, the faint gust of his breath causing the candles to flicker slightly. "Promise you won't laugh?"

You raised a brow, giving him a thoroughly unimpressed look. "No," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of stubbornness.

Choso nodded, as if a little sympathetic to your situation. He slipped his lumpy hoodie off, the soft sound of fabric sliding over skin filling the room. As he revealed more of himself, the candlelight danced across his now clearer form, allowing you to finally see his features more distinctly.

As you leaned in to see him more clearly, you couldn't help but be taken aback by the stark contrast between your preconceived notions and the reality before you. He was tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered, with a physique that seemed at odds with his reserved demeanour. His incredibly pale skin, like porcelain, was warmed by the hue of the candlelight, giving it an ethereal quality. Every contour and muscle came alive in the shifting light.

His black eyes were deep pools, absorbing the candlelight and reflecting it back with a certain intensity. His long, messy black hair, tied into two high ponytails that jutted upward and outwards, framed his face in a wild, untamed manner. Some strands of hair gently caressed his forehead, adding to his haunting allure.

Upon closer inspection, as you leaned in even further, you noticed his face was sharp and angular, with thin but expressive eyebrows that added depth to his gaze. His straight nose was perfectly sculpted, leading your eyes down to his distinctive feature—the thin, black, horizontal, rectangular tattoo that adorned his nose bridge. 

The tattoo was his most striking feature, but if you weren't counting that, then there were the unexpected elements that truly set him apart—a pair of bunny ears perched atop his head, their velvety texture contrasting with his dark, flowing hair. Completing this ensemble was a fluffy white tail, its cottony appearance inviting a touch to verify its authenticity. 

Wait, hold on a second… Bunny ears and a fluffy white tail?

You clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh, the suppressed amusement creating a tickling sensation on your skin. 

"Y'know Halloween is coming up, not Easter, right?" you quipped, your voice carrying a teasing note.

Choso groaned, hiding his face in his hands, his reaction palpable even in the dim candlelit room. Though it was hard to see, you had a good reason to believe that he was blushing, a subtle warmth colouring his porcelain complexion. This revelation only made you want to laugh harder, the sensation building like a wave within you.

"So you ordered the wrong Halloween costume. What's the big deal?" you chuckled, attempting to downplay the situation.

Choso's bunny ears twitched, a subtle movement that defied logic.

They... they twitched?

"It's not a costume," he muttered, his voice barely audible above the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind.

Your jaw dropped, and you spluttered in disbelief. "N-not a costume? Those... Those are your actual ears?"

He grimaced and nodded, still avoiding your gaze. Those were his real ears? Is this why he had hardly interacted with you, because he was hiding his 'bunny features'? The discovery left you reeling, a cacophony of thoughts and emotions filling your mind as you tried to make sense of the extraordinary truth before you.

In good bunny fashion, he slowly tiptoed over to your bed and sat on the opposite side, his ears drooping. The way he moved was oddly endearing, a blend of hesitancy and vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings. 

"I didn't know how to tell you," he mumbled, his voice carrying a note of regret.

The pair of soft, black bunny rabbit ears were a delightful and charming sight, a surreal addition to this unexpected encounter. They looked velvety to the touch, with a plush texture that invited you to run your fingers across their surface. The deep black colour was rich and dark, blending in with Choso's hair, but creating a stark contrast against his pale skin. The enigmatic tattoo on his nose bridge gained new significance in light of this revelation, like a piece of a larger puzzle waiting to be deciphered. As you observed him, a profound curiosity washed over you, eager to learn more about the intriguing world that had remained hidden beneath his hoodie and in the shadows for so long.

You impulsively reached your dominant hand over and stroked one of his ears, unable to resist the allure of their intriguing texture. It was incredibly soft and plush to the touch, and running your fingers over them felt like stroking a delicate, silken fabric. They were adorned with fine, velvety fur that lent them a luxurious feel—so exquisitely soft to the touch.

"Wow... You're not kidding," you said with quiet awe, your voice hushed, afraid to disturb the delicacy of this revelation. 

He stiffened and recoiled, looking at you with wide eyes, a mix of surprise and unease clouding his expression. He shifted away from you, instinctively retreating from your touch. You raised your eyebrows, curious about his reaction, and leaned forward, extending your hand gently to stroke his ears again.

"Hey, c'mere for a sec. Let me touch," you murmured, your voice soft and reassuring as you reached for him.

Choso, however, kept shifting away from you, his movements increasingly frantic, until he was almost completely dangling off your bed. The experience of revealing his hidden secret had left him clearly unsettled, and your attempts to comfort him had the opposite effect, pushing him farther away. 

Your curiosity about his strangely endearing rabbit anatomy grew the more he recoiled from you. His eyes darted between you and the door, and the bedsheets rustled beneath you as you inched closer, your desire to explore this newfound aspect of his identity becoming increasingly difficult to contain. Then, unable to resist your impulse, you lunged forward.

Choso, however, was immediately ready to bolt away as you started moving towards him. His instincts kicked in, and he began to run, his legs and thighs moving quickly as he made rapid bunny hops, dashing away from your reach. His bunny ears flapped in the air as he ran, the delicate contrast of black against the dimly lit room a mesmerizing sight. His white tail wagged rapidly in this game of chase, and his athletic and swift movements made it clear that he was determined to elude your grasp.

Choso got to your bedroom door, threw it open, and dashed out into the hallway, his swift movements making it seem like he had vanished into thin air. But you, not one to give up easily, sprinted after him, your determination propelling you forward.

Choso, with his innate agility and a clear knowledge of the apartment's layout, made several quick turns and corners, using his familiarity with the space to his advantage and evading your pursuit. His bunny ears continued to flap in the air, and he occasionally glanced behind him to gauge your progress before making another sharp turn, running into yet another room and attempting to hide.

As you followed closely behind, your footsteps reverberated through the apartment, giving away your pursuit. Choso's white tail wagged rapidly in response to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he made more bunny hops, utilizing his speed and agility to the fullest in his quest to evade your grasp. The game of cat and mouse—or rather, cat and rabbit—had taken an unexpected turn, and the chase continued through your shared living space.

You skidded around a corner, your fluffy socks proving slippery on the hardwood floors as you made a valiant effort to keep up with Choso's rapid pace.

Choso, ever the elusive bunny-eared flatmate, saw you coming around the corner and anticipated your move. With a burst of agility, he made another sharp turn, dashing out of the room and out of your immediate sight. His bunny ears flapped in the air as he continued to sprint away, his athletic legs propelling him forward with impressive speed.

As he reached the kitchen, he couldn't help but call out, "I can hear your footsteps!" 

His bunny ears twitched, as if to listen further, and his white tail wagged rapidly. He continued to make bunny hops, each one like a real rabbit's bound, as the game of pursuit and evasion intensified. 

You changed tactics and stopped running, realising that a more stealthy approach might be the key to closing the gap between you and Choso. Instead of chasing him, you began to stalk quietly around the apartment, moving with deliberate caution to ensure that your footsteps remained silent and didn't give you away.

Choso, ever alert, immediately picked up on the change in your movements. His bunny ears stood straight, their sensitivity tuned to the faintest of sounds, and his fluffy white tail had stopped wagging. Tension radiated from him as he shifted into a state of heightened awareness, his eyes flicking around the apartment in an effort to spot any sign of your presence.

He began to worry a little, his black eyes flicking around as he tried to catch a glimpse of your whereabouts in the apartment. Remaining completely still, he strained to hear any faint sound that might give away your position. His ears were perked, each subtle noise amplified in his perception.

Choso's ears twitched at the faint noise emanating from the hallway. His senses heightened, and he remained perfectly still, straining to decipher the source and nature of the sound. His black eyes narrowed as he focused his attention on the hallway, ready to react to any potential movement or disturbance. 

As the moments stretched on in silence, Choso remained completely still, vigilant and on the lookout for your next move. His bunny ears stood erect, capturing even the faintest of sounds, and his body remained tense, ready to react at a moment's notice. His white tail remained motionless, a clear sign that he was in full-on alert mode, on edge and anticipating your next attempt.

In the hushed atmosphere, you could hear his breath, slightly faster than usual, as he held it in anticipation. Each inhalation and exhalation was more pronounced in the quiet. 

"Boo!" you exclaimed from a few meters behind him, and you lunged forward.

Choso flinched in surprise at the sudden exclamation from behind him, his rabbit instincts momentarily taking over. He swiftly turned to face you, only to be caught off-guard the moment you lunged towards him. His bunny tail wagged in response to his flustered state, and he made a light bunny hop to escape your reach, his athletic legs propelling him forward in a rush.

Clearly, you had caught him by surprise, and he was running away as fast as he could, employing his signature bunny hops to gain distance. His slightly red face betrayed his flustered state, and nervous giggles bubbled up from him as he continued to flee. 

You chased Choso into the living room, and with nowhere left to escape, he found himself cornered. In a final act of pursuit, you lunged forward and tackled him onto the sofa, your laughter mixing with his surprised gasp as you both tumbled onto the cushions. You managed to pin his wrists above his head, straddling him in a victorious pose.

As you caught your breath, you both panted heavily, the adrenaline-fueled chase having taken its toll on your energy. Choso's body flushed a deep, red hue all over, and his features displayed a mix of shock and deep embarrassment. Your body on top of him in such an intimate position left him blushing intensely, his pale skin providing a vivid canvas for the crimson flush that had overtaken him.

In this somewhat awkward and unexpected moment, you were both left panting and gazing at each other. Choso's bunny ears laid back slightly, and his large, expressive eyes met yours with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and… and what on Earth was that?

"I win," you muttered smugly, your playful victory evident in your tone.

As you both caught your breath and your eyes met, you found yourselves in an unexpectedly intimate moment, just inches away from each other. Your gazes locked, and you peered deeply into each other's eyes, your chests rising and falling with each heavy breath. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to break through the bones of his ribs and run away.

"Well, I suppose you win..." Choso conceded, his rabbit ears drooping ever so slightly, a subtle sign of his disappointment. “Let me go now?” 

"Don't I get a prize?" you murmured, smirking ever so slightly as you inched closer, your proximity intensifying the charged atmosphere.

Your playful question hung in the air, charged with a newfound tension that neither of you could deny. You licked your lips, a subtle, teasing gesture as you maintained unbroken eye contact with Choso, your gaze locked onto his dark eyes.

Choso's eyes slowly traveled down to your lips, his gaze fixating on the subtle curve of your mouth. He was entranced, his rabbit ears twitching almost involuntarily as his breathing picked up ever so slightly. His dark eyes remained locked onto your mouth, where he noticed the subtlest details, including the hint of your smirk and the shape of your canines.

As he continued to study your lips, Choso's eyes widened slightly, and he found himself unable to move, mesmerized by your presence. A faint, involuntary moan escaped his mouth, the sound barely audible even in the hushed room. 

“Don’t… Don’t do this,” he whimpered.

Instead of going in for a kiss, you tilted your head to the side and bit gently into Choso's neck. Your unexpected move elicited a sharp gasp from him, his dark eyes widening in response to the unexpected sensation. Your hands, still firmly gripping his pinned wrists, curled more tightly, keeping him in place as you continued to nibble at his neck. The room crackled, and the taste of his skin and the sound of his rapid heartbeat filled your senses—God, he looked so helpless. 

Choso's body shivered involuntarily under your grip as you bit his neck, his sensitivity to the unexpected sensation causing a surge of pleasure and excitement to course through him. Despite how tightly you were pinning him down, he squirmed beneath you. His hips lifted slightly off the sofa, a reflexive response to the thrilling stimulation you were providing. A low, muffled groan escaped his lips—something that sounded close to your name. 

Your sharp canines bit deeper into Choso's neck, and he responded with a low, deeper moan that reverberated through the room. His hips grinded slightly against you, an instinctual reaction. His breath grew heavier and faster, each inhalation and exhalation punctuated by soft, low sounds of pleasure.

“No, no, no… Don’t, please… Ah, fuck…!”

Choso's bunny ears continued to twitch, a visible sign of the tension that had taken hold of him. Despite your firm control and grip, he began to move slightly, a silent plea for closeness and touch. His movements became more pronounced under your control and grip, an unspoken desire to get closer to you and touch you. His skin felt hot to the touch, the evidence of his arousal undeniable in the heated atmosphere of the room, at war with his mind which was begging for it to stop.

“It hurts… You’re hurting me, stop… No, no,” he whined.

Choso's response to your biting was undeniable. He let out a deep breath of pleasure, his body shivering in excitement as your canines continued to tantalize his neck. His lips formed a perfect "O" shape as he released the breath, and his bunny ears twitched slightly, betraying the undeniable excitement and pleasure coursing through him.

It was clear that he wasn't trying to resist your bite; On the contrary, he thoroughly enjoyed the sensation, despite his whines about it hurting. The pleasure experience far outweighed any discomfort, and his surrender to the moment was evident in his quivering body and the sounds of delight escaping his lips. 

You pulled back from his neck, your breaths heavy and your voice dripping with desire as you whispered in Choso's ear, "You taste good. I think I'll have you."

His response was immediate, a loud whine escaping his trembling lips as he squirmed beneath you. His body was a tempest of emotions, a cocktail of fear, adrenaline, and unmistakable arousal.

While maintaining your grip on his pinned wrists with one hand, your other hand ventured to gently stroke the soft, black, velvet-like fur of his droopy bunny ears. The sensation caused him to shiver, a powerful response to the intimate touch.

"D-Don't... P-Please, don't," he mumbled pleadingly, his voice carrying a mixture of vulnerability and desire.

But you weren't inclined to stop. With a wicked grin, you silenced his protests with a simple command, "Hush, bunny... Let me have my fun with you." 

You didn't hold back as you ducked your head down and bit more harshly into the pale, sensitive skin of Choso's neck. He let out the cutest squeak of fear in response. You sucked and nibbled at his neck, your actions causing him to tremble and moan.

His moans, while not entirely lustful, were filled with a heady mixture of fear, excitement, and desire. Each tremor of his body and each moan that escaped his lips only fueled your passion and drove you to explore further. In another circumstance, you might have had the heart to stop, but the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressed against your thigh as he rutted his hips into you left little room for restraint.

“C’mon, now. Be a good pet and let me touch you properly,” you muttered into his ear, causing the last of his apprehension to crumble.

Your desire burned like a fire, and with fiendish strength, you tore Choso's thin cotton t-shirt, a symbol of your unrestrained desire for him. He gasped at the sudden action, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

As your hands traversed the now-bare skin of his muscular torso, Choso shuddered and groaned, his body responding eagerly to your touch. He leaned into your caresses, his desire mirroring your own.

Sensing his readiness and compliance, you shifted on the sofa to provide him with enough room to remove his trousers. Without protest, Choso stripped out of his trousers, revealing more of his taut, athletic body. With greedy hands, you pulled down his underwear, releasing his aching erection, which sprung free, throbbing with arousal.

"Well, aren't you a needy thing?" you laughed teasingly at Choso, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and desire. 

You pulled him onto your lap, and he now straddled you, his embarrassment causing a deep shade of red to spread from the top of his head all the way down to his shoulders. His bunny ears laid flat against his head with shame, unable to meet your eyes.

Your hands settled on his petit waist, and you dragged him along your thigh, pulling him closer. He couldn't help but moan as his throbbing dick rubbed against your skin. His arms wrapped around your neck, an instinctive desire to hold you as close to his body as you would allow. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his gaze darting between your eyes and your lips as he looked at you imploringly, his need and desire laid bare for you to see.

"God, you're so fucking desperate to be touched," you laughed, your words dripping with desire, and you placed a possessive hand on the back of Choso's neck before crashing your lips together in a heated kiss.

Choso whimpered in surprise at the sudden aggression of your kiss, his cheeks flushing with desire and embarrassment. He couldn't help but emit light, quiet moans in response, the sensations overwhelming his senses. His bunny ears were twitching madly, and his entire body quivered at your rough touch.

His eyes remained closed as he surrendered to the passionate kiss, his lips moving in sync with yours as desire consumed both of you. As the kiss continued, the room filled with the intoxicating sounds of his heavy panting and the increasingly louder moans that escaped his lips.

Choso's face flushed even deeper as your fingers squeezed his bunny tail, the unexpected sensation sending a jolt of desire through him. Instinctively, he ground his hips against your thigh, seeking more of the electrifying pleasure you were providing.

His calloused hands roamed over your body, their touch possessive as they grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in closer and tighter. The intensity of his desire was palpable, his body tense and shaking as he felt the warmth from your hand on his tail. He couldn't help but make quiet, breathy whimpers and sounds as your deep kiss continued, your tongues exploring each other with fervour.

Choso continued to grind his throbbing cock against your thigh, the friction heightening his pleasure. Your hands fondled his ass and massaged the base of his tail, each touch driving him further into a frenzy of desire.

You pulled away from Choso's lips, and in a breathy, taunting whisper, you spoke to him, "You should see yourself, pet. Fucking my thigh like you're in heat." 

Choso's response was a mixture of pleasure and desperation as he panted between moans, his voice a trembling with need. "Ah...! I-I can't help it... Feels too good."

Your hands continued to guide his hips steadily as he humped your thighs, his movements growing increasingly frantic. Pre-cum smeared messily across your skin where your shorts ended, evidence of his overwhelming arousal. His pretty cock was flushed an angry red at the tip, the desperate need for relief evident in every twitch and throb.

Choso's moans grew louder and more desperate with each passing moment, his voice a fervent symphony of pleasure as he whimpered your name. His thrusts against your thigh became increasingly frantic and messy, his body shuddering with the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. His fingers dug painfully into your shoulder blades, his grip on you tight and unrelenting, holding on for dear life.

Your taunting words only added fuel to the fire. "That's right, bunny. Moan my fuckin' name and let the whole building know I'm getting you off like a slut. Let them hear your voice—let them hear how disgusting you really are," you teased, your words charged with desire and dominance.

"Please, please... Oh, please! Fuck, I'm so... I'm so c-close," Choso cried out, his voice filled with desperate need and urgency.

Your wicked grin only widened in response to his pleas, and with a harsh tug, you pulled on the fluffy white tail at the base of his spine. The sensation was electrifying, and Choso practically screamed your name as he came on your thigh, his body trembling with the intensity of his release. He continued to rut against you, coating your skin in his hot, sticky cum, the sheer amount of it a testament to the depth of his need and desire.

As you watched him in the aftermath, you couldn't help but realize that your mysterious flatmate had been far more desperate for you than he had ever let on throughout your history of knowing him. And then it clicked: 

He had wanted you all along.

Choso naturally began to slow his movements, his body slumping against yours as he buried his face into your neck. He whimpered your neck and pressed soft, damp kisses against your neck. Your grip on his hips didn’t falter, though.

"You're a pervert, aren't you, bunny?" you said teasingly as you pulled back to look at Choso's flushed face.

Choso's breath hitched, and his lips parted as if he were going to protest or defend himself, but before he could utter a word, you forcefully moved his hips, causing him to grind against your thigh once more. He yelped in response to the sudden stimulation, his cute dick still sensitive from his recent climax, and it continued to throb and drip with cum, staining your thigh. You maintained your control over him, keeping him forcefully grinding against you, and despite his whines and keening, he remained a willing slave to your lustful amusement. 

"Oh, my God," you laughed cruelly, your words dripping with taunting amusement. "This has been what's getting you off ever since I moved in, huh? You've been touching yourself, wishing it was me fucking you all along?"

Choso's protest was weak, his voice trembling as he moaned and squirmed under the relentless overstimulation you forced upon his weeping cock. "N-No... Stop, I wouldn't," he protested, his words a feeble attempt to deny the undeniable truth.

But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily. 

"Bunny," you continued, your voice low and sultry, "you've been wanting to fuck like rabbits this whole time, and you've been too embarrassed to ask. Now's your chance. Beg me now, like the dumb slut you are, and I'll be here to fuck you when you're desperate."

"Please… Please, please, please!" Choso cried out, his voice desperate and filled with longing as he moaned your name.

Your dominance over him intensified as you continued to drive him to the edge of ecstasy. "And what are you, pet?" you demanded.

"I'm… Please, please… S'too much… Too much," he gasped, his words coming out in short gasps as his powerful body writhed and shuddered. His hips continued to hump against your thigh, guided by your hands.

"You're a dumb fucking bunny, that's what you are. Now, say it," you commanded.

"I'm… I'm a… Ah…!" Choso's voice trailed off into a moan of pleasure and surrender, his body consumed by the intoxicating sensations you were inflicting upon him. 

You narrowed your eyes, your superiority over Choso unwavering as your dominant hand reached up and clasped those soft bunny ears of his, tugging harshly. Choso's response was immediate and intense—he screamed and sobbed, the pain shooting down his neck and spine, sending waves of torment and pleasure right to his aching dick. Tears cascaded down his flushed cheeks as he moaned and whimpered, his pleas for gentleness and kindness filling the room.

"Say it, slut," you demanded, your voice firm and unyielding.

"I'm a… a dumb fucking b-bunny," Choso sobbed, his words a painful admission of submission.

You tugged on his ears once more, and his back arched in response, the sweaty muscles of his chest pressing firmly against your torso. 

"That's right, pet. You're a dumb fucking bunny, and now, you're all mine," you laughed, your words filled with triumph.

Choso's response was immediate and explosive. He screamed your name and convulsed violently, his body wracked by the intensity of his climax as he came all over your thigh once again. The overstimulation proved to be too much for him, flooding his body with an overwhelming, painful pleasure that left him utterly and blissfully mindless. In that moment, all thoughts, inhibitions, and restraints were wiped away, consumed by the raw and uncontrollable desire that had drawn you together.

It was clear that he had become your loyal and devoted pet, forever bound to you. The future held untold possibilities, but one thing was certain—Choso had willingly surrendered to you, and you had claimed him as your own.

a/n: icl i got wayyyy too carried away with this. choso is such a gorgeous man and i need to ruin him LOL. god, i fuckin love bunnies. writing this has permanently altered my brain chemistry, i think. Happy Kinktober! :3

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

[without-ado]

The Saturn Lyman-Alpha Bulge, an emission from excess hydrogen

Discovery: Saturn's rings are heating its upper atmosphere. The phenomenon has never before been seen in the solar system. The evidence comes from an excess of ultraviolet radiation, seen as a spectral line of hot hydrogen in its atmosphere. more at NASA

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 9

First|Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst, depression, canon typical violence.

Jason was not angry he was frustrated. There was a difference. A distinct difference that Jason knew very well.

Ghost kept running. He would steal a thing. Evade some goons, cause he often stole from the rogues. Then evade some bats, lead them in a new direction, sometimes changing overall direction mid chase, there really was no rhyme or reason to it.

And then, when Jason showed up, he’d invariably be standing on another rooftop and disappear. All the while Jason could feel his longing and sorrow, a call for help he wouldn't let Jason answer, and it was frustrating and confusing, but mostly frustrating.

Because Jason was not angry.

He may have snapped at Dick, when he made a joke about his princess being in another castle, but he hadn’t actually laid hands on anyone. He made sure nobody made the mistake of touching him.

He ducked his head, never stuck around and ignored the looks he got. Worry, pity, wariness, Jason flip-flopped how he interpreted the gazes. A loose canon, that’s what they thought he was. But Jason was not. His chest burned, but Jason was not angry. Because he knew the difference, between himself and the pits. He knew. But they didn’t. They didn’t understand and Jason could not explain - not without him sounding unstable. There was no way he could explain things and keep cool. They wouldn’t understand that he kept away for their sake. At best he’d be benched.

Benched, a bitter voice mocked, locked up and thrown in Arkham more like. Criminal, murderer, crazy.

He shook his head. Pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t allow himself to be benched. He needed to catch Ghost - to make him listen and explain just for a moment so he could understand what was going on with him and the pits.

As long as Jason didn’t cross the line, they wouldn’t try anything. He had to believe that.

Oo o oO

Bruce was at a loss.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Jason hadn’t pointed a gun at any of them, Bruce would have thought they’d gone a year or two back in time. He was tense and curt and kept himself at a distance. Always out of reach.

It wasn’t like he joined their patrols regularly normally, but he could usually be counted on if something big was going down. Now Bruce wasn’t so sure he’d want to ask him if something happened. It seemed like he was nearing breaking point and Bruce feared what way he’d fall.

The thief, Ghost, was at the center of this. Something was going on there, but it was like he was missing crucial information. Jason was downright frantic to catch him.

Danny Fenton. The name was still a dead end. The DNA sample useless. His contact at Star Lab had gotten back to him and informed him they’d had a break in weeks ago, before the thefts started in Gotham - nothing had been stolen, the invisible perpetrator had been found out because of the electromagnetic disturbance his stealth tech gave off, or rather that was what their reports said. The recorded disturbance matched the readings they got off of the Ghost.

It was quite possible there were many more unrecorded thefts before the Ghost came to Gotham. He’d already informed Tim and watched him pale from the realization that they actually had no idea how far the Ghost was with what he was building. If building something was indeed what he was doing with the eclectic mix of parts he’d stolen. Tim had a theory, that much was obvious, but he was not at a point where he felt he had enough evidence to share it.

When Bruce had told him of the Star Lab incident, he’d glanced towards where they’d stored the spectral calibrator, before his shoulders had forcefully relaxed.

Bruce was no slouch when it came to technology, but mostly when it came to operating it. He could infiltrate systems and extract information fine, but it he was honest, the kids were better, and since he rarely worked alone these days, he didn’t get as much practice - he wondered momentarily if this is what it was like growing old.

It was something he’d never expected when he set out on his mission as a young man, growing old that is.

Besides while Bruce had designed a fair few gadgets in his time, and assembled the Bat computer himself back in the early days when it didn’t have near the capabilities it did today, he was not an inventor. Lucius was the one who’d made his more fanciful ideas workable in the early days.

And now he had all these talented kids.

It didn’t matter most of them were adults, they’d always be kids to him. Here he went again getting distracted.

He rubbed his forehead. Point was, Bruce couldn’t see what the parts could be used for but Tim could. And it was something that worried him, which in turn worried Bruce and like always these days his thoughts circled back to his worry for Jason.

He’d given him time, like Dick had said - three weeks so far in fact. And instead of things calming down they’d become worse. The Ghost’s continued escape was winding Jason up, there were no two ways about it. They needed to capture him.

Bruce had to be honest with himself, if it wasn’t for Jason, the Ghost would be very low priority for them. He wasn’t hurting anyone, just a thief. Before the day Jason had tackled the Ghost on the rooftop, he had been low priority. Amusing in fact, with the way he riled up Damian with his continued escapes, it had been low stakes - safe in a way many of their missions weren’t.

But now, Tim was working frantically on ways to capture the Ghost, they’d tried nets of various materials (some even Martians had trouble phasing through) with no success. Barbara was still trying to unearth more information from the phone, also with no success.

Steph and Cass had been steadily and stealthily working on changing the cameras throughout the city connected to Barbara’s network to ones with better filters and built in detectors for electromagnetic disturbances over a certain threshold - a very bothersome process since most of the cameras technically weren’t theirs and had to be indistinguishable from the originals and send visuals to the real owners of the same (low) quality they’re used to in case somebody decided to take a closer look.

Damian was giving him long looks, when he thought he wasn’t noticing. He was hiding something and he’d been sneaking off on his own. Bruce was trying to convince himself to leave it alone. He’d nearly lost Damian in the past because he was too controlling.

Trust, it was something he was trying to practice but it irked at him not to know. What if he got in trouble? He had to forcibly remind himself, it was most likely that Damian was just sneaking off to some wild animal he was hiding and nursing back to health.

Duke had just gotten back from a three month exchange program abroad, he would have to be caught up to speed. Maybe his abilities would give them some additional insight.

Hopefully.

Oo o oO

Jason was not angry, he was livid. Ghost was on another rooftop. About to do his disappearing act, again again again.

“Come back here!” He yelled.

Fear not his own hit him in a sickly yellow haze. He gasped and struggled not to throw up. Ghost was gone again. Of course he was. His one chance and-

“Jason…” the words were quiet, barely audible, Bruce. Jason grit his teeth. Bruce was a fucking hypocrite saying his name in costume like that.

A step forward was heard, a purposefully made sound to announce his approach, and Jason spun.

“Don’t touch me!” His guns were pointed at Bruce. He stood frozen, the hand he’d no doubt been reaching toward Jason was pulled back. It served him right.

Jason didn’t trust him. He should shoot him, teach him not to get too close. He knew Batman’s armor, he knew the weak spots. It would be easy. A rubber bullet wouldn’t kill, but it would hurt.

Jason wanted him to hurt; like he hurt.

He wanted-

He wanted-

He couldn’t remember loading his guns tonight. The realization struck him like a splash of ice water. Rubber bullets or live ammunition?

He didn’t know!

He followed the aim of his still raised guns, pointed at his dad’s chest, the armor could only do so much at such a close distance.

Real bullets or rubber?

Jason took a step backwards in horrified realization. It didn’t matter. Not at this close range. Both would be lethal. He knew that. He knew guns. Why had that even been a question? Why was he still pointing his guns at Bruce?

A wounded sound escaped his throat and he turned and ran.

He’d crossed the line.

-

Poor Jay, huh? Can Danny keep escaping the bats? Will Jason be okay? Tim POV next time, we're in serious need of a plan here, come on Timmers.

Next

I no longer tag people, please subscribe to the masterpost here to get notified when the story updates.

[anonymouscapybara]

people say the worst SI unit is the mole. "ohhh but it's just a number it doesn't even have anything attached it doesn't deserve to be an official unit" BZZZ WRONG

the worst unit is the candela. the candela is stupid.

what's the candela, you ask? well, it measures the brightness of light

"oh that sounds reasonable" you say, "just measure the energy or power emitted!" nope. they would not do anything nearly so simple. a lightbulb emitting a watt of yellow light is more candelas than a lightbulb emitting a watt of red light.

"ok that's weird" you say, "but maybe they're adjusting for that somehow? maybe it measures number of photons?" again, that would be far too reasonable. a lightbulb emitting a fixed rate of yellow-light photons is more candelas than the same rate of purple-light photons.

but what are they even measuring then? what else is there to measure? clearly they ran out of ideas while making up units, because what they're actually measuring is the SUBJECTIVE BRIGHTNESS OF LIGHT TO THE HUMAN EYE. the candela is STUPID

a reasonable question to ask is: how would you even measure the brightness of light to the human eye? aren't a lot of human eyes different? don't different things look bright in different circumstances? aren't there colorblind people in the world?

surely the General Conference on Weights and Measures, which spent millions precisely calibrating magnetic quantum flux to avoid basing the kilogram on a random block in France, has a clever solution!

no. no they don't. the candela is stupid.

as far as I can tell, what you do is you first measure how much light of each wavelength comes in. Then you multiply each measurement by a "luminosity function", which measures brightness to the human eye:

you will notice that there are multiple functions shown in this diagram. the SI system has five of these, for different lighting conditions. do your lighting conditions not exactly follow one of the Five Official Standardized Lighting Conditions? guess you're out of luck then.

and whose eye are we using? why, the Official Standardized CIE Photometric Observer, of course: the "ideal observer having a relative spectral responsivity that conforms to a CIE-defined spectral luminous efficiency function for human vision"

(and no I can't show you this function because the fine people of the ISO put it BEHIND A PAYWALL. who puts measurements determining a fundamental SI unit BEHIND A PAYWALL. the candela is stupid)

all right, so we're measuring a fundamental unit using a (nonexistent) idealized observer in one of five random lighting conditions. how did they find the values for this? i'm...not entirely sure. but here's a glimpse, based on a few of the most recent studies I found used for this:

"...heterochromatic (minimum) flicker photometric data obtained from 40 observers (35 males, 5 females) of known genotype..."

"To obtain an estimate of the mean L-cone fundamental, we weighted [weird variables] according to the ratio of 0.56 L(S180) to 0.44 L(A180) found in the normal, male Caucasian population...and averaged them together"

that's right, our Official Objective Brightness Unit is probably sexist and racist. none of the other SI units have a chance to be sexist and racist. a meter is a meter in every country on Earth. 6.022*10^23 For Women is still 6.022*10^23. but the candela is-- probably-- the white man's candela, because you can absolutely bet that genetic drift around the world gives different values for this stuff.

in summary: my opinion, as you might have guessed, is that the candela is stupid. hopefully you agree with me after reading this that we need to completely eradicate it from the planet. failing that could we at not give it the same level of officialness as the meter or the kilogram?

[sleeplesssmoll]

Reverse 1999 Theory: What is "Perception" and how does it work in arcanists? (Ngl I'm very proud of this one. Bare with me and I'll blow your mind! This game is so good!)

Vertin canonically has uncanny perception and a deep understanding for arcanum even amongst arcanists, despite her lack of skill. Arcanists are very sensitive, or rather, vulnerable to emotions. There is another arcanist known for her perception we can look at for more clues.

Mesmer Jr. also has a "acute perception", much like Vertin.

In Reverse 1999, Perception functions like a 6th sense in arcanists. But how does it work? I looked up to see if there is a connection between magnetic fields and emotions. Turns out there is A LOT. Specifically the magnetic field radiated by the heart.

Biomagnetic Communication Between People (source).

We have found there is a direct relationship between the heart-rhythm patterns and the spectral information encoded in the frequency spectra of the magnetic field radiated by the heart. Thus, information about a person’s emotional state is encoded in the heart’s magnetic field and is communicated throughout the body and into the external environment.

There is so much cool information in this article I'd love to gush about, but we're here for lore. Remember my psychube post that I never shut up about? It's actually missing very important information that I didn't add at the time because I could not figure out how it worked.

Polarization:

The different frequencies are triggered by different kinds of emotions and we can see the heart being affected by the electromagnetic fields. My theory is that this is the key to arcanist perception. This is how they "sense" emotions. They are picking up on these frequencies. For a real life example from the same article, look at these graphs showing how the influence of emotions:

Most people tend to think of communication solely in terms of overt signals expressed through facial movements, voice qualities, gestures and body movements. However, evidence now supports the perspective that a subtle yet influential electromagnetic or "energetic" communication system operates just below our conscious level of awareness. The following section will discuss data that suggests this energetic system contributes to the "magnetic" attractions or repulsions that occur between individuals.

Arcanists sense these waves and it can cause distress in them. Mesmer Jr. is a prime example of this. Other people's emotions get to her.

Now how does this tie into our beloved Timekeeper?

What if the reason Vertin has to stay "stoic" is because her emotions can influence the others around her and because she is extra susceptible to other people's incoming emotions. She needs to stay calm even in mental distress. Mesmer Jr. is also like this. She may come off as abrasive and snappy at times but she is described as a "an indifferent and refined machine" (Chapter 3: An Opened Sandwich). These two share a lot in common. They are both victims of trauma yet must operate in many emotionally taxing positions.

They even say "engraved in the heart" (although this could simply be word choice it really fits)!

Both Vertin and Mesmer Jr. struggle everyday to keep the their feelings at bay. Neither of them is "used" to this life but they have to keep up the facade for their sake and possibly for those around them.

The main story doesn't give us as much insight into Vertin's head but the traces do. She is always holding back, just like Mesmer.

Side note, do you remember the heartbeat we heard as Schneider was reversed? It raced. Interesting how later Schneider shows up in one of her dreams during Artificial Somnambulism. This could be an example of HF Polarization which generates strong and temporary mental images with very powerful emotions (assuming the heartbeat was actually Vertin's as she watched Schneider vanish). EDIT: This part is the most speculative as it could Schneider's too and the scene would still make sense. that 'assuming' is doing a lot of heavy lifting here.

This also adds an extra layer to Vertin's interactions with others. She tried to get through to Druvis and Schneider, but as for Forget-me-not and Arcana, she didn't bother. Maybe their feelings of revenge and hatred are so tangible she knew it was lost cause. However, Druvis was laden with grief and loss. She was not a malicious person. Schneider was desperate and motivated by love for her family. Vertin even mentions she knew Madam Z was not part of Constantine's game by the "look in her eyes" and never blamed her for the loss of her friends.

If anything seems wrong or if I missed something, please let me know! I'd be happy if I could refine it further.

[slakedbyiron]

I'm drunk again but we'll take a crack at it. I couldn't find the post so here's the page again lets analyse

Okay no 1 Francisco and the dojo:

Izzy feels so bad that she can't do what seems to be a really tough spectral move (on the previous page only Spender who is described as Francisco's strongest student can do it properly) at only 6 YEARS OLD she starts crying - and Izzy isn't actually a part of this training session so it implies that even Francisco thinks this is too hard for her to do, and yet she still holds herself to the standard of an adult spectral because that's what Francisco has taught her

He holds her to an unattainably high standard and the one thing she is properly skilled at and proud of (her exceptional connection with spirits and her skills with tools) is belittled by him as weak and cheating. Francisco doesn't accept anything less than an automatic reaction to physical pain as a reason to cry - and even then he still ridicules her, saying "is that all?" as if a child wouldn't cry at being hurt.

He also calls her mother over to deal with her, even though she's a nurse she's incredibly busy and just about to leave for work he feels like it's her issue - presumably Amy feels secure working as much as she does because she believes that Izzy has a strong support system at the dojo, knowing how much she looks up to Francisco and how many people are around to protect her. on the next page he implies it should be her job to look after Izzy at the expense of her career because he's housing them both - despite the fact that her father still lives in town. similar to the way Isabel is treated by him, he holds Amy to a higher standard because Ángel has disappointed him, as if it has anything to do with her.

Despite the fact that Spender is the only person on this page who doesn't actually live in the dojo he's the only one who goes to see if Izzy is alright - the rest spend way more time with Izzy yet seem awkward to borderline disinterested in her pain in the 4th panel - I know she's a young kid but they should have a stronger connection with her. This could be related to how she's literally pitted against adults in the present, whereas in the past it's slightly more theoretical/in her head

That leads us to no 2 Spender and Izzy's relationship:

The penultimate panel I feel shows how close she and Spender are. It implies that he picks her up a lot because she instinctively knows what he's doing even though he turns around without saying anything. In addition the fact that he picks her up presumably also because she says she hurt her foot, so she doesn't have to walk on it - even though banging your foot wouldn't really impede your walking

Also, Spender doesn't even notice how Francisco is treating Izzy this whole page, because he's too wrapped up in seeing if she's okay (the final panel shows he still has his hero worship of Francisco which I'd hope he wouldn't if he realised how terrible he treats her) this is something he still does in the present day but it hinders Izzy because he focuses on "keeping the kids safe" rather than emotionally secure and regulated. It also very literally happens again in chapter 4 when he's worrying with Lucifer about whether he kept the kids safe properly and misses Izzy asking for his help dealing with Francisco.

finally no 3 more on Isabel:

She's too young to have as strong a handle on her emotions as present-day Isabel (read: emotional repression) but she still thinks that this is a weakness to have a completely normal reaction that all kids that young would have to frustration. Isabel is only 6 years old and she's already internalised that emotional pain is insignificant and weak, and that the only 'valid' pain is physical, as shown by her lie. despite this she's still invalidated because the pain wasn't bad enough. Also her kneejerk lying about pain is a trait commonly seen in abused children.

This can be seen to have both the aforementioned emotional implications in current Izzy, as well as physical - she attempts to use plasters to cover a wound that actually needs stitches because she doesn't want her grandfather to know and be disappointed, risking an infection.

I realise half of these are just statements w no conclusions but I hope you can infer what I mean. anyway concluding statement no one looks out for Izzy like they should and also her and Spender's relationship and all of its shortcomings is one of my fav things abt pnat both bc there's so much meat there and bc they're my 2 fav characters

[cthulhubert]

Alright, so bear with me.

Humans have three cone cells in our eyes that are how we perceive color in the world. I often think red, green, and blue, but apparently people studying them use Long, Medium, and Short to be unambiguous (just for one example, if you activate M really strongly and not L or S, the color people report seeing is yellow-green). Each type activates at different strengths to different wavelengths of light. Here's a lovely graphic from Wikipedia showing response levels of each cone type to different wavelengths:

So you can see that if some light activates L some, but not M, we'll perceive deep red, activates them both a bit, we see orange or yellow, depending on the specific amount.

It's interesting that some effect (a specific mix of pigments, or some structural coloration) could be producing some mostly 495nm light, or a blend of some slightly higher and slightly lower wavelengths, and either way we see cyan. (And a good thing, too, otherwise our display technology would be extremely unconvincing.)

Of course, then there's what happens when we get activation of L and S at once, but not M, our eye-brain systems don't infer "yellow-green", because green is specifically what's missing from there: we generate magenta, a non-spectral color. (And when all three activate we get white, of course.)

I found myself thinking about birds, with their four cones.

They're more evenly spaced too, the bastards. (These bastards are specifically finches but I'm under the impression that most birds are similar.)

(Of course, "violet" actually means ultra-violet here. Look at the graphic, their UV cone stops responding where our S cone starts. I would edit this, but spent like half an hour discovering that tumblr doesn't support table under html or code/"preserve formatting" under markdown anymore; so you get a screencap of what I sent on discord.)

Birds could see "vio-green" (accepting name suggestions) as a color region as distinct from blue/indigo as green is from purple/magenta.

Look at that. Two whole ass independent spectral color divisions we don't have, and six non-spectral inferences. Eight whole categories of visual perception more than us. Decadent.

The heart quails to imagine what the 16 color receptors of a mantis shrimp would create. I mean, okay, it doesn't because we've studied their eyes and brains and they don't blend colors the way we do, smooshing them down to a much simpler set of perceptions.

But imagine if we rebuilt our eyes and brains for it! Color indicates chemistry, with that level of subtle blending of characteristics, would vision become like tasting everything we look at?

Please pet the bear that is with me on your way out.

[mysticstronomy]

WHAT IS THE 'MOST MYSTERIOUS STAR IN OUR UNIVERSE'??

Blog#370

Saturday, January 27th, 2024.

Welcome back,

KIC 8462852, also known as Boyajian’s star or Tabby’s star, exhibits large, aperiodic dips in a variety of shapes, inconsistent with an exoplanet explanation.

There has been significant interest in this star, with many suggested explanations from interstellar clouds, to a swarm of exocomets orbiting the star, to circumstellar dust, to debris from a melting exomoon, to alien megastructures.

“The light curve of KIC 8462852, a.k.a Boyajian’s star, undergoes deep dips the origin of which remains unclear,” Steward Observatory astronomer Logan Pearce and his colleagues from the United States and the United Kingdom wrote in their paper.

“A faint star 1.95’’ to the east was discovered in images from the Near Infrared Camera 2 (NIRC2) instrument on the Keck II telescope in 2015, but its status as a binary, and possible contribution to the observed variability, was unclear.”

In their work, the astronomers analyzed a series of Keck/NIRC2 images captured in 2014 (28 images), 2016 (13 images), and 2019 (10 images).

They found that the main star, KIC 8462852A, and its companion of spectral type M2V, KIC 8462852B, are a common proper motion pair and a gravitationally bound binary system.

"Since KIC 8462852B is a bound companion, we assume that it follows a Keplerian orbit around the center of mass of the system,” they wrote.

“An object on a circular, face-on orbit at the current 880 AU separation and a total system mass of 1.9 solar masses would have a velocity of 1.4 km/s and a period of 18,600 years.”

The astronomers think that it is unlikely that KIC 8462852B directly influences the light curve of the main star.

“Although it has not been thought to be a likely explanation for KIC 8462852A’s light curve, it is a potential source of instability in the long-term evolution of the system, and could excite chaotic orbits of objects in the system,” they wrote in the paper.

“Efforts to explain KIC 8462852A’s dimming events should be informed by the existence of a wide stellar binary companion to the system.”

Originally published on https://www.sci.news

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, January 31st, 2024)

"WHAT IS AN EINSTEIN RING??"

[theology101]

Fabian and Adaine have me absolutely bewitched and its going to be everyone's problem

Im writing a fic for the two of them were they sorta do the awkward 'are we dating or just Good Friends who spend time together without other Friends' to 'fake date to fix her money problems' and then 'actually we were in love the entire time.' I'm not 100% on my order of events yet but I have a bunch of vignettes stuck in my head and its easier for my brain to expell them at an audience

Moggy the Doggy and the Hangman both go to the Spectral Dog park, Fabian and Adaine want to get Hangman comfortable in his hellhound form (although they respect that he prefers to be a bike)

For some reason whenever Adaine needs new clothes, she goes with Fabian? Something about the good vibes from the Jean Jacket means she thinks he's a lucky charm for clothes

While out in public Adaine has a panic attack, and Fabian swaddled her in the Battle Sheet. She initially thinks its patronizing before realizing - is this shit thread count seven billion?

After the Swaddle Incident, Fig and Kristen start VIOLENTLY shipping them, and that inspires the 'lets get engaged for tax purposes'

Fabian has an additional fund for his betrothed/spouse/SO, and KVX starts giving Adaine three thousand gold pieces a month

Jawbone, Gorthulax and Sandra Lynn are all pretty hype about this development - Sandra Lynn has her fucking eyes on him though. Adaine immediately feels guilty about lying

Hallariel flies home fucking immediately and forces Adaine to spend an entire Weekend with her. I'm talking Spa Day, Dress Fitting, Sword Dueling and a bunch of traditional elven activities

(and Adaine def doesn't cry because she's having the type of elven family experience with Hallariel that she wishes she had with Arianwen Abernant)

Turns out KVX has a similar system as the 'nemesis' system for spouses/signifgant others. Adaine would not be getting her three thousand gold a month unless she and Fabian genuinely did love each other

The reaction from that makes her vomit

The Bad Kids have to deal with Princess Nara being a BITCH. She's Fabian's cousin, wants her fucking sword back, thank you very much, and thinks that the Elven Oracle slumming it at High School and on adventures instead of leading a fucking nation like she's supposed to

Fabian and Adaine are backing each other up with so much passion and authority they kiss about it when they're done

And idk how we get here, but she's proposing herself with rings from the Jacket of Useful Things

I have more that are still half baked but if anyone else has any hit me dog. This shit is going to be 5k words+ a chapter when I'm done with her and I'm debating on 1-5 chapters rn