#yes coal produces radiation when burned

[correctopinionhaver]

Germans after shutting down their nuclear power plants and replacing them with coal plants that will kill a lot more people and put far more greenhouse gases and radiation into the environment:

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

I want to build a few places on my planet that's similar to our own world in technology but transportation is still mostly by animal? The problem is the slow speed, unless somehow I make it so animals can go much quicker? Perhaps even have flying animals?

Tex: Throw wheels on everything, and then after that I suppose train the animals to have the appropriate gait depending on the means of transport (riding on the animal itself versus riding in something the animal is pulling) - horses are the most popular to reference, and have their own article for gaits (Wikipedia) and ambling (Wikipedia).

Slow is also a relative measurement. In our current era of things like maglev trains (Wikipedia), everything beneath that speed will be considered “too slow”. However, in comparison to lugging all your belongings yourself, by foot, maybe or maybe not without footgear like shoes or skis, an animal is much quicker.

One of the major innovations of the so-called modern age is the invention of engines. Anything that can take a raw material and produce energy to make the speed of Whatever™ faster by a power of anything at all has been considered advantageous.

While we’re slowly transitioning away from energy produced from burning materials and into energy produced via different chemicals (see: sunlight via photo-voltaic cells, atoms via nuclear fission or fusion), the longevity of “add chemical, plus fire, go boom, energy!” as a physics equation cannot be understated due to its sheer simplicity of function.

It’s one of the reasons why steampunk as a genre is so popular - instead of coal-boom, we have steam-boom (we’ll ignore for a moment how steam is even generated in a Victorian-aged fashion, in favour of the supposed eco-friendliness of the idea).

Ultimately, though, your world is levered by its internal expectations. Will NPC shopkeeper #65132 care if their bolt of cloth arrives two weeks later, if the typical time it arrives is sixteen weeks? Maybe, but probably they’ve already allocated expectations for what a “late” shipment looks like, and they have budgeted their yearly purchases of cloth out according to when the next shipments usually arrive.

That’s one of the flaws of implementing our perspective on a world unlike ours - quite a lot of us are accustomed to things like next-day shipping and turnaround times of a month or less, production included. If you peel back the layers of why that exists, such as manufacturing technologies and new power sources and its infrastructures, then you can guesstimate how long something “actually” takes to produce, sell, and transport.

You could reasonably adjust things by drawing from history, at least. An example I like to point to a lot is the Persian Royal Road, which had travel times for correspondence to a little over a week by horse (Wikipedia). I think, perhaps, that directing your attention to on what, rather than with what, transportation is conveyed would give you more to work with for the expectations you’re wishing to frame your world in.

Feral: The joy and frustration of worldbuilding comes from making a single change as though driving a stake through ice and watching the cracks radiate out. And I’m not saying you can’t drive your stake in and ignore the cracks, but keep in mind that depending on your plot and your tone, your audience may not be inclined to.

That is to say, I’m not sure what you mean by “similar to our own world in technology but transportation is still mostly by animal.” Mostly because transportation technology has historically been the, if you’ll excuse the pun, driving force in technology development, which yes, has included animals for the majority of human history, particularly in one of the most transformative military technologies of all time, the stirrup. But a lot of what I would consider quintessential technologies of our modern world came out of the space race.

So, yes, having domesticated cheetahs as pack animals or pterodactyls instead of jets would change the development of the transportation technologies we have now, but it would also change what technologies are developed in totality. 

Utuabzu: Animals were the dominant form of energy for vehicles in most of the world until relatively recently. It wasn't until the late 19th Century that horse-drawn trams were replaced by electric ones, a revolution in urban infrastructure and also cleanliness (horses poop. A lot. And they're not particular about where. Scraping that off the streets was a major concern for pretty much all pre-20th Century cities). It took even longer for horse-drawn vehicles to be entirely displaced from urban environments - find the oldest person you can and ask them, they probably remember horse-drawn vehicles being common. 

The automobile only really became totally dominant in Western cities after the Second World War, due to production ramping up during the war to supply military vehicles and a sudden glut of labor and disposable income immediately after they became affordable. This had a variety of impacts upon society and urban planning, most obvious of which is suburban sprawl (the modern tendency of suburbs to be very spread out). Before then, while suburbs did exist, they tended to be built around tramlines, and were quite dense and walkable by necessity, and most people in cities lived in apartments, tenements or terraces. Commuting was generally by tram or train, and streets tended to be built more narrowly and with greater emphasis on pedestrians. After the war and the explosion of car ownership, suburbs became the widely spread out things we recognise today, utterly dependent on the ownership of cars to function at all because everything is too far away to walk to. So, for urban structure look to older cities, and particularly neighbourhoods built prior to the 1940s.

[the-wolf-who-kissed-the-moon]

• Randvi x female reader 💋

• Second part of a (not-so-short-anymore) emotional fic.

a sapphire for your heart, part II.

Ravensthorpe buzzed with life as villagers begun to emerge from their cozy little homes. The sound of children echoed in the small meadow and it made you smile; sweet youthful laughter, sing-song games and playful teasing. You stopped to gaze at the three little rascals chasing one another around a large sage tree. The image made your chest feel warm as you reminisced about your own childhood. And with those pleasant thoughts in mind, the memory of the weeping woman faded whilst you made your way to Reda’s tent.

“Hello!”

He greeted you with a small wave, beckoning you over. You stood in front of him with the bag of opals in your hand.

“Would this be enough to cover my stay?”

With a smile, you dangled the little pouch in front of him. Eagerly, Reda pushed himself into a sitting position, cross-legged and hunched over the bag filled with jewels. The precious gems shimmered beautifully in the sunlight, like a dragonfly's translucent wings. He was deeply satisfied as he fastened the mouth of the pouch and hid it safely among his belongings.

“More than enough.”

He reassured.

“Now, I have this map for you.”

And he produced an old, rolled-up papyrus, offering it to you. It was awfully smudged and the writing was faded, the landscape and roads badly drawn in thick coal lines, yet you could still make out certain regions, borders, and key points. You took your time to study the important document before your gaze found Reda’s again. He briefly explained the hierarchy in this growing village, mentioning the jarl's name, Sigurd, and his right hand drengr, Eivor. Both of them were currently absent and have been for quite some time. However, there was a woman you could rely on for further information regarding the map. Randvi.

Following Reda’s instructions, you found yourself at the large front gate of that immense longhouse. The carvings in the threshold were mesmerizing to look at; symmetrical patterns sculpted so precisely in painted wood. Dragons stood proudly above the tall door, and flickering lamps hung from their open mouths. There was a soft crackling sound within – a fire burning slowly in the middle of that large space. It felt homely, albeit it was rather dark inside, and so you hesitantly paced about the creaking floor. Your gaze wandered from every dark crevice to every colorful pillar holding that magnificent roof up.

The sound of chatter from outside abruptly ripped your hazy focus and you remembered why you were there to begin with. Information.

You inhaled deeply as you glanced around for the map chamber. It was right across that long hall which separated tables full of food and drinks. There seemed to be no one in the longhouse at this hour, and yet you did hear soft footfalls somewhere behind the wooden walls. It oddly felt as if you were trespassing, even though you had Reda’s written invitation attached to your belt.

“Good morning?...”

You called. A woman emerged from a chamber adjacent to the map room, and when your eyes met, you were completely gobsmacked – it was her. She seemed equally surprised to see you, as if you’ve met somewhere before. Up close, you noticed her impressive height and strong shapes, and with that stern, impenetrable look in her azure eyes, you almost felt intimidated.

“Ah-… I am here on behalf of Red-"

“Yes, I know how you are. Sapphire, is it?”

The sound of her voice was like a deep river murmur, and yet soft, melodic, so gently pulling at your heart strings. You nodded slowly at her question, and she beckoned you to come by the large table in the middle of the room, where a map was laid out and pinned by various figurines. It was a spectacular display of the area, with clear marks of little villages, forts and caves. You couldn’t wait to redraw your own map, and yet you found yourself secretly gazing at the powerful woman just across from you.

She was beautiful. Radiating such authority, calm and collected; was she truly the one you’ve heard weeping that morning by the river stream? Looking at her now, it was hard to picture such a stern figure being overwhelmed by emotion.

“Tell me what you need help with.”

Her voice gently pulled you from your thoughts, and in a few moments you had the old map stretched next to the larger one. She glanced at the faded, yellow paper, and then at you. You raised your brows as her dazzling eyes peered into your own.

“Primarily, I need to know which areas are safe for travels.”

A smile small tugged the corner of her lips; you couldn’t tell whether it was amusement or bitterness, but you found it impossible to break free from her steady gaze as she leaned over the table with a sigh.

“No area is truly safe, however… I will highlight the most important borders you should consider before crossing.”

“Good. Thank-you!”

You were relieved to find how honest she was, and soon, the sound of her tranquil voice dissolved that cold, hostile aura she seemed to have about her at first glance. She was particularly charming as she worked – focused, thorough and quick. The design on her clothing was breathtaking in itself, so easily luring you in, closer; you were curious what fabric it was and whose hands were so skilled to sew such intricate patterns. But you kept very still, respectful of her personal space as she kindly aided you with your map. When she was done, she stood up straight, nearly towering over you. The way you looked at her must’ve caught her off guard, for she raised a fine brow as she handed you the new document.

“Is there anything else that you need?”

She asked, harmlessly inquisitive.

“Oh! Not at all!” You laughed softly. ”I was only wondering about your brooch. I’ve never seen one like that before.”

Your curiosity seemed to have stirred something within her; something you definitely did not expect. She smiled as she gently touched the aforementioned item, her gaze longing all of a sudden.

“This?... It was my mother’s.”

“And the beads attached to it…”

You begun as you slowly rounded the table to her side. The closer you approached her, the more evident her imposing height became – a Norse goddess incarnate, enthralling and mighty. You swore you caught a drop of tenderness in the way she gazed at her mother’s brooch.

“…what are they?”

Caught off guard, Randvi met your prying gaze, wondering.

“Emerald, of course.” She answered.

Indeed the precious gems shimmered beneath the faded light seeping through the ceiling above. As she turned to face you, the rich green hues seemed almost tangible, deep and smooth like vivid clover leaves. Your attention lingered on her beads, as if you were reading through each ray of sun the stone reflected. Then, you sought Randvi’s gaze again as you smiled.

“It’s Chrysoprase.”

You concluded. She seemed half-amused as she coiled her beads between her war-hardened fingers. Never looking away from the gems, she asked.

“How do you know?”

“Emerald reflects light differently, like a mirror. This one seems to glow.”

Oddly, your input seemed to stir a hidden curiosity within her; perhaps it was because you openly showed interest in something so dear to her, or perhaps because she was secretly fascinated by gemstones. However, when she gazed at you, with her beads still tangled in her fingers, you felt as if she had questions.

Her stoic demeanor melted briefly, leaving room for genuine interest in your knowledge – her gaze was intense, easily pinning you to that heavy map table. A shiver rushed through your core as her mouth opened to speak, but before words were uttered, a much louder and desperate voice called from the other end of the hall. An old woman expressed her disappointment in a foreign tongue, which you immediately recognized as Norwegian. And as Randvi made her way to tend to her responsibilities, you gathered your map and tiptoed out of the longhouse.

-         To be continued…

*part III.

[shadowron]

Toxic Zones in the London Sourcebook for Shadowrun (1st Edition)

Compared to automobiles, travel by airline is extraordinarily safer. When airplane disasters occur, they are newsworthy because they are so rare. Compare that to how many car crashes occur.

Compared to fossil fuels, nuclear power is extraordinarily more efficient (by fuel mass required), carbon-free, and less polluting. When nuclear accidents occur, they are newsworthy because they are so rare.

Did you know that coal-burning power plants emit radiation in the atmosphere?

Every solid, liquid, and gas that you extract from the planet contains baseline levels of radioactive nuclides (it’s why the Earth still has a molten core, after all), and just as processing and using carbon-based fuels releases trapped carbon into the atmosphere, it also releases trapped radioactivity.

Yes, nuclear power plants produce nuclear waste, but I don’t know if people really realize how small this amount is compared to the wastes produced by fossil fuels.

Let’s count down the top 5 deadliest places to live in the U.K.!

5. Scottish Nuke Zone

We begin at the top of the map:

The two nuclear power stations at Dounreay in the Scottish Highlands were constructed in the 1950s and suffered an explosion in 2011 that made the area uninhabitable to all but toxic spirits.

4. Scottish Fringe Toxic Zone

Staying in Scotland, this 20-mile-wide strip was created by a terrorism induced North Sea oil spill. So much for Aberdeen.

3. Yorkshire Fringe Zone

Is that what they’re wearing up in Yorkshire now?

2. East Anglian Stinkfens

East Anglia was not ruined by an oil spill or radioactivity, but by nitrate eutrophication due to over-farming and chemical dumping. Should your runners have a reason to visit, watch out for the corpselights.

1. Northern Toxic Zone

The largest (and unmarked on the map) zone has it all: nuke meltdowns, spouts of neurotoxic flaming gases, toxic avenging shamans, and a burgeoning Ork proto-nation around the Lake District of Northwest England.

[themurphyzone]

PatB Oneshot: Eurydice

Summary: An alternate scenario for the Halloween episode, loosely based on the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice. Mr. Itch strikes a different deal with Brain. If Brain can make it to the surface world without looking at Pinky, the contract will be voided and Pinky’s soul will be returned. And failure is not an option.

Beginning AN: I posted this idea on Discord a month ago and I’ve wanted to write this scenario ever since. I love the Halloween ep so much…so how about some whump? I am not kind to our favorite mice at all, just a heads up. Also there is a serious lack of fics over the Halloween ep. It's prime material for angst.

Big shout out to @plutonis who listened to me cry over torturing these poor mice over DM. 

FFN Link 

                                                      Contract

I, the Brain, hereby agree to a challenge against Mr. Itch, Proprietor of Wayward Souls and Master of Hell, in which the winner shall receive Pinky’s soul. Should Brain win this challenge against all impossible odds, Pinky’s previous contract in which he agreed to submit himself to hell’s eternal torments in exchange for Brain’s dominion over the surface world shall be voided and destroyed, and he may return to the surface world with Brain. Additionally, Brain agrees to forfeit his royal claim on the world and is prohibited from future attempts at global conquest for the remainder of his days.

Challenger Signature: The Brain

Drafter Signature: Mr. Itch

*Mr. Itch reserves the right to set the terms of the challenge at his leisure.

o-o-o-o-o

He’d been too hasty in signing the contract. The combination of brimstone and heat had to be affecting his decision-making process.

It’s not about Pin– the food pellets, he told himself. Absolutely not.

But it was too late. His signature was burned into the page. Five blood-red letters would determine Pinky’s fate.

And even if…no, he couldn’t afford an if…when he succeeded in rescuing Pinky, he’d have to give up the world. He wouldn’t even be able to try and earn his crown, scepter, and throne through his own merits.

Without the nightly ambitions, Pinky might…wish to find a different associate.

Brain’s entire purpose would be gone. Forever.  

He didn’t listen to the convoluted, nonsensical legalese that Mr. Itch’s lawyers provided. There was no need to provide metaphors or explain the situation further.

Brain understood the gist.

No matter the outcome, he would fail. And this time, the consequences were permanent.

“Think of it, Brain,” Mr. Itch sneered, and Brain hated that cocky, self-assured expression that put even the best car salesman in the world to shame. Mr. Itch waved his hand, and a sick, twisted parody of a game show appeared behind him. “You can walk away now and rule the world…or you can risk it all and try to get Pinky back.”

Brain’s vision blurred as he was forcibly thrust onto a tall podium. A spotlight illuminated him, and the demons clamored for his choice.

A tall demoness cheerfully indicated two panels to the studio audience of hell’s denizens. One depicted Brain on top of the world in royal regalia. He could have power to change the world. Admiration from the populace. Endless wealth so they could have the finest things life had to offer.

But the other panel was a portrait of Pinky. Just a misleading, goofy portrait of a smiling Pinky that belied the high stakes of Brain’s contract.

He was chafing under the spotlight. But why? He was king, he was emperor, with everyone at his beck and call! He shouldn’t be afraid of a little spotlight!

Except he wasn’t any of those things here. Just a mouse who’d failed to notice his associate signing his own soul away.

The demons clamored. Brain gripped the podium, vulnerable and ripe for humiliation, for several…seconds? Minutes? Hours?

His voice wasn’t working. He needed his voice, didn’t he? But he could only stammer like a fool. Perspiration built on his fur, and he nearly slipped off the podium, his palms damp and clammy. He didn’t know if it was the heat or the anxiety, but everyone was waiting for his choice.

“Save Pinky!”

“No, the world!”

“Go for cash!”

The demons jeered in a harsh, guttural cacophony. Brain was sure he would’ve been covered in fresh produce and popcorn if they’d had any available. Anything to amplify his current indignity.

He wanted Pinky. He wanted the world. He couldn’t have both.

But in the end, there was hardly a choice at all.  

Ruling the world without Pinky by his side wasn’t worth the castle, the riches, the statues. Institutes of higher learning named in his honor, policies with his seal of approval, ethical practices in scientific fields to enforce…but what good were they to him?

His castle would just be a gilded cage. Sparkling and clean and mighty for all his subjects to behold from afar, but its interior would only contain a gloomy king without an associate, a confidant…

And a kindred spirit.

All or nothing. He had to try. Who knows? Pinky might’ve done the same for him.  

“I’ll try to save Pinky!” Brain shouted, forcing the words past his throat and into the unforgiving outside world.

He wasn’t prepared for Pinky to spring onto the podium. That mindless simpleton was grinning from ear to ear like he was just being called to the stage in The Price is Right! Didn’t Pinky realize his soul was in peril?  

“Oh, Brain! My hero!” Pinky snatched Brain up in an enthusiastic hug. Brain stiffened and tried not to think about the hand currently rubbing his head, and how he would never feel it again if he failed his quest.

They were also surrounded by an unfriendly sort. They would believe this saccharine display was a weakness if Brain allowed Pinky to indulge these childish needs.

He shoved Pinky off, holding him at arm’s length for a moment so Pinky would take the hint.

“…so he can show me where the food pellets are,” Brain added hastily.

That was all Pinky was needed for.

To show him where the necessities laid.

A hellish fanfare played, saving Brain pondering those terrifying thoughts.    

An enormous fiery plume burst onto the stage, then dissipated to reveal Mr. Itch. He conjured a microphone and bowed heartily at the thunderous applause.

“Ladies and demons, we have something very special for your entertainment on this fantastic Halloween night. I trust you’re aware of our newest resident and his…well, can I even call him a friend? He didn’t lift a finger to stop me when I claimed Pinky.”

Brain stared down at his hands to avoid the harsh, mocking glares. This was just the opening act. Mr. Itch was hyping up the crowd for Brain’s ultimate failure.

Mr. Itch strolled around the stage, each movement radiating confidence of a self-assured victory. “Yes, he enjoys having that ultimate power. A glorious statue, his rival in the race for world domination now a lowly jester in court, his name praised on every street corner! Isn’t that a dream come true? And yet...he chose to come into my realm and make demands. Like the world wasn’t enough for him.”

Because Pinky wasn’t there to make the world enough.

A hiss of smoke sprung up by Brain’s foot. He bit his tongue, wondering if part of the challenge was running on hot coals or avoiding random ember spurts. At this point, it seemed very likely. His feet probably wouldn’t survive the night.

In the unlikely scenario that the rest of his body survived of course.

And something wet landed on his toe. Wet? There wasn’t anything wet about hell, unless one counted the boiling lakes. But it evaporated into steam before he could fully process the cool reprieve.

Then he heard it.

A whimper.

From Pinky.

A tear trailed down Pinky’s cheek.

“Pinky?” Brain asked quietly, trying to keep his eyes trained on Mr. Itch, who was currently recapping the tale of Brain’s disastrous attempt at Broadway to the raucous audience. Not one of Brain’s finest moments, but he couldn’t dwell on that now. Better for them to laugh over what was past and done, rather than drawing their attention here.

Pinky clutched his tail in a death grip. Steam leaked under his eyes and around his cheeks, his entire face damp with tears.

“He’s saying awful things.”

Even with their proximity, Brain had to strain his ears to hear Pinky’s voice.

“Don’t bawl, Pinky,” Brain whispered, hoping by some off-chance that the verbal comfort would be enough. “Don’t cry. Not here. Not now. Don’t…don’t be foolish.”

He didn’t know if the reassurance was meant for Pinky or himself. With a trembling hand, Brain reached for Pinky’s back, shuffling closer to make the motion less conspicuous.

But Pinky moved away before Brain could touch him.

“They have to know, Brain,” Pinky said. His voice was far too calm. “I can’t let him tell those awful lies about you.”  

Pinky tried to balance on the edge of the podium, but Brain grabbed him by the tail and hauled him off. But Pinky was stubborn, and he tried again.

“Let him talk, you idiot!” Brain yelled, grabbing Pinky’s tail to knock him off-balance and buy some much needed time before Pinky foolishly tried again, oddly glad that Mr. Itch was enough of a showman to keep the attention away from them.

But Pinky’s huge pain threshold allowed him to recover far quicker than Brain would’ve liked. “Brain, let go of my tail!” Pinky shouted, trying to sweep his tail into a huge arc to dislodge Brain.

“Not until you do as you’re told, for once in your life!” Brain retorted, grasping the wriggling tail. He wouldn’t relinquish it.

Pinky was slippery though, and in one swift motion, he freed himself from Brain’s grip. Realizing he needed a more secure hold, Brain threw himself at Pinky’s right arm. Suddenly, the arm blurred, and Brain couldn’t stop his forward momentum in time. A sharp pain erupted on the side of his head and knocked him against a corner, his face throbbing painfully.

Through his daze, Brain pressed a hand against his cheek and winced at the tenderness. Hopefully it didn’t swell. Ice packs weren’t exactly a common item in this hostile environment.

Then he saw Pinky.

And Pinky was absolutely distraught. Smoke poured out his eyes at a more alarming rate than before. His blue eyes were tinged red. Pinky clutched his elbow with his other arm, squeezing as hard as he could to admonish it.

But it wasn’t necessary.

A microphone was thrust into Pinky’s face before Brain could tell him so.

“How could I forget our little stars of the show?” Mr. Itch asked, a sadistic grin stretching from ear to ear. “That was quite a scuffle there, Pinky. Can’t say I blame you. Revenge for all the times Brain’s bopped you on the head and insulted you?”

Pinky wiped his eyes in a pitiful attempt to get some semblance of dignity back as the demonic crew trained all their lights and cameras on him.

“N-no...” Pinky said weakly. “I mean, he can say mean things sometimes, but the bops-“

Mr. Itch shook his head in a show of mock sympathy. “Your friend-“ he curled his lip as if the word itself was cyanide “-called you a speckless nougat just before you signed my contract. He’ll take everything and give nothing. He’ll send you away only to ask for your services again because he can’t do the manual labor on his own. You’re a talented little guy, aren’t you? You’ve showed the moxie and the know-how to become a Broadway star or president of the good old USA. And instead of putting those gifts to use, you’ve been rotting inside a cage with a failure who leeches on your success.”    

Failure.

One of the cameras trained its unforgiving lens on Brain. He shook away the remaining dizziness and stood up to get some semblance of dignity back. The demons booed and heckled him, but he tried to lift his head in defiance.

He wasn’t a failure. He ruled the world! His word was law, his brilliance unparalleled!

He had it all-

-only because Pinky sacrificed his soul for him. Pinky had taken drastic measures to prove himself when there had been nothing to prove, because Brain made Pinky believe he had to prove his usefulness.

He’d gained the world yet lost Pinky. It was failure.

Which meant he-  

“Stop it,” Pinky begged. Brain’s thoughts came to a screeching halt, and he stepped away from Pinky before reminding himself that he was being illogical. Pinky didn’t have telepathy. He couldn’t have heard all that. But Pinky was glaring up at Mr. Itch with a ferocity Brain had never seen before.  

In the span of a single night, Brain’s entire world had been shaken to its roots.

Mr. Itch raised an eyebrow. “Stop what?” he asked, placing his free hand on his chest like he’d been genuinely offended.

“Stop it! STOP CALLING BRAIN ALL THOSE NASTY MEAN HORRIBLE THINGS RIGHT NOW!” Pinky’s voice rose into a fevered pitch, his fur bristling along his spine.

This was wrong. This was so very wrong. Pinky wasn’t supposed to be the angry one.

Before Brain could stop him, Pinky leapt off the podium and landed on the microphone to the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ of the lesser demons, and even Mr. Itch seemed too stunned by the maneuver to shake Pinky off.

“Pinky, cease immediately!” Brain yelled once he managed to find his voice. “You’re being reckless!”

“I HAVE PLENTY OF RECKS, BRAIN!” Pinky screamed, tightly clinging to the microphone even though Mr. Itch was attempting to pry him off. “CAUSE YOU’RE NOT A FAILURE OR A LEECH! YOU’RE A MOUSE!”

A comforting warmth spread through Brain’s chest at the affirmation, but he pushed those feelings aside. Pinky’s words meant nothing if Brain didn’t succeed with this rescue.

The audience was deathly quiet.

“Yes, Pinky,” Mr. Itch growled, trying to slip a finger under Pinky to dislodge him. But Pinky held on. “Let your friend talk. Let the cameras capture his selfishness. After all, his presence here just means he wasn’t grateful for your gift. That he wasn’t happy with your gift. As I said before, all he does is take, take, and take some more. What’s he ever done for you in return?”

But Brain had been grateful. For a short time anyway.

Until he realized his gratitude came from Pinky’s sacrifice. All of Pinky’s sacrifices that involved no benefit to himself.

Pinky mumbled something that had much of the audience leaning in eagerly, trying to hang onto every word.

Mr. Itch shrugged. “Well, if you have nothing else to say, then-“

But Pinky hauled himself on top of the microphone, clinging to it like a lifeline.  

“Brain gave me my name! He gave me a chance to see the world! He gave me a chance to do things I never dreamed of doing before! I wouldn’t have met Pharfignewton otherwise! Or Winnie or Mr. Sultana or any of the other lovely people we met while trying to take over the world! Maybe Brain can be big-headed and a grump but he works super hard and he’s going to make the world a better place to live! And most importantly, he’s my best friend and nothing you say will ever change that!”

“Pinky…” Brain’s throat closed uncomfortably. It had to be the oppressive, stagnant air. What could he possibly say to Pinky’s emphatic speech?

Even the demons were moved. Some embraced their neighbors, others made sympathetic noises. There were a few who sat with their heads pressed against their knees in a futile attempt to staunch their tears.

He’d never been more grateful for Pinky’s charisma.  

Mr. Itch took notice of his followers’ reactions. A vein seemed to pop in his head, his once casual, lazy posture now stiff and alert.

“Brain only kept you around because you were useful.” A dangerous edge crept into Mr. Itch’s tone. “That’s all there was to your so-called friendship.”

“NARF!” Pinky screeched in defiance.

It sounded all wrong. Fury and fear laced that familiar, irritating monosyllable. Brain didn’t know what narf meant, and he probably never would, but he was certain that narf wasn’t meant to be uttered in such a fashion.

“Narf!” a demon called.

Another demon stood up and pumped his fist. “Poit!”

“Troz! Egad! Narf! Zort!” The demons chanted Pinky’s favorite syllables like the world’s most demented cheering squad.

An inferno burned in Mr. Itch’s eyes.    

“SILENCE!”  

Mr. Itch’s snarl deepened into a guttural and unearthly roar, the entire netherworld quaking in outrage. The lesser demons hastily vacated their seats and cowered behind each other, large boulders, or whatever makeshift shields they could find.

The microphone and a tiny white body were hurled into the empty audience box, crashing into the metallic structure with enough force to leave an enormous dent.

There was no tic-filled laughter to accompany the harsh clang of his body impacting metal.

“PINKY!” Brain screamed, not caring that he tumbled more than climbed down the podium. He landed right on his throbbing cheek and got a mouthful of hot crimson dust for his trouble, but he couldn’t care less.

The physical tortures were just going to build up until Pinky’s body couldn’t handle it anymore. It didn’t matter that Pinky had a near-immunity to pain. Pinky’s body would break and he would never notice.

Brain spat out the dust and hurried over to Pinky, who feebly stirred next to the microphone.  

Mr. Itch loomed above them, an ember casually lit on his finger. “You know what? That’s perfect,” he chuckled, and it was utterly devoid of good humor. “Absolute silence.”  

Brain knelt on the hard ground next to Pinky, who only blinked up at him with those too-trusting blue eyes. Pinky raised a shaking hand, cupping it against the cheek he’d accidentally hurt.

“I’ve sustained worse injuries,” Brain said quietly. Despite the heat, he shivered at the touch. He wished Pinky wouldn’t comfort him. He didn’t deserve it. “You know that.”      

Pinky opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“Speak up, Pinky.” Brain tried to sound commanding, but his voice hitched instead. He couldn’t even keep up a thin illusion of normalcy.

Pinky tried again, but Brain still couldn’t hear him. Not even a cough or a wheeze from smoke inhalation. He wasn’t choking or flailing. There couldn’t be something lodged in his throat.  

“He can’t speak, Brain,” Mr. Itch said. “He’s been silenced per our little agreement.”

Silenced?

Brain snatched the wrist gently cradling his cheek and felt for a pulse, and he couldn’t disguise his relieved sigh once he found it.

“C’mon, just what do you take me for? It’s not a euphemism. Takes all the fun outta the contract.”

“Just say narf, Pinky,” Brain pleaded as he shook Pinky’s shoulder, as if pleading in hell would accomplish anything useful. “Please say narf. Can’t you do that much?”

Pinky mouthed the syllable to no avail. He became teary all over again, his free hand feeling his throat as if trying to coax the narf out. His foot kicked out, yet it made no thump against the crimson rocks.

The demons murmured among themselves, and though they appeared sympathetic to Pinky’s plight, they were too frightened of their master to come any closer.

It was just as well. Brain didn’t want anyone to touch Pinky.

Brain tried to glare at Mr. Itch, but a mouse could never hope to be intimidating against a sadistic supernatural being.

“Don’t give me that look,” Mr. Itch scoffed. “The fine print of our contract lets me set the condition of the challenge. Pinky’s silence is my first condition. If anything, I’m doing you a favor. Awful noisy thing, isn’t he? No wonder you weren’t inclined to get back him back right away.”

Had this been a different situation entirely, Brain might’ve found it relieving that Pinky would have to be quiet for a while.

Cruel irony at its finest.

Pinky touched his nose against Brain’s own, and Brain tried not to think of how Pinky could comfort as easily with a touch as with words. Surely Pinky was just using tactile stimulation for his own peace of mind rather than Brain’s.

“And now for my second condition,” Mr. Itch smirked. He snapped his fingers, the sharp echo promising cruelty yet to come.

The gentle pressure of Pinky’s nose vanished, the feel of his wrist and shoulder gone. The whites, pinks, and reds of his body were now colorless, lifeless. His bright blue eyes faded into a pale, ghostly void. No pupils, no irises…just empty.    

Brain tried to put a hand over Pinky’s heart, desperately wishing for the steady thrum he was so accustomed to. Yet his hand passed through Pinky’s chest like mist. It was neither cold nor hot, simply that there was nothing to feel.

Pinky reached for Brain’s face, looking at him with that strange, milky gaze. But his hand passed through the cheek he’d accidentally hurt, and Pinky’s chest heaved rapidly. He tried to grab his tail, as he always did when he was truly upset, but couldn’t.

No tears came out. Just several silent sobs.

Pinky was just a silent, sorrowful ghost of his former self. The loudest and happiest mouse Brain had ever known was reduced to this shadow, trapped within his mind, unable to engage with the world around him.

It was a horrible, undeserved fate for such a kindhearted mouse. There would be no release, not even from death, if Brain failed his challenge.

He had no choice but to win.

And even that was practically impossible.

“Pinky, I’m sorry…” The words tumbled out of Brain’s mouth before he could think of anything else to say.

Why wouldn’t his mind just work? I’m sorry? Like he’d done nothing more than eat the last food pellet? Sorry didn’t even begin to cut it!

Pinky floated instead of standing, feet skimming just above the ground. He gave Brain a tiny, reassuring smile. Of course he’d find something to smile about in his non-existent state. It probably should’ve annoyed Brain, but it was rather comforting to know that Pinky would always be Pinky.

Even so, the smile faded just as quickly as it came. Pinky couldn’t properly express his joy with narfs and poits and enormous embraces.

Then a fingersnap above his head reminded him of Mr. Itch’s presence.

“We’ve got business to discuss, Brain,” Mr. Itch said as he straightened his lapels. “You should know what your challenge consists of.”

In other words, Brain’s humiliation had hardly begun. But he’d do it. For Pinky’s sake.

Brain tried to hold his head high and show hell that he wasn’t afraid to defy their evil laws, but he couldn’t even find the strength to bring his ears up.  

Another snap, and the microphone soared back to Mr. Itch. He twirled it with a showman’s flair and gestured for the audience to take their seats. The lesser demons obeyed, murmuring among themselves and pointing at the spectral Pinky. They didn’t seem pleased by Pinky’s complete silence.

“Ladies and demons, think of Brain’s challenge as an adaptation of an old Greek story,” Mr. Itch announced. “And I ain’t just talking about a watered-down Heracles here. No, this story isn’t about heroes slaying monsters. Rather, it’s a tragedy. The Greeks were masters of that particular craft, you see. A man goes on a quest, yet his fatal flaw always strikes him down in the end. I trust you’re quite familiar with the concept, Brain?”  

Brain said nothing. No need to give them ammunition.

His temper and pride were the source of many failures. But there was nothing he could do except commit the same errors over and over again.

He should’ve known. It was only a matter of time before the ones he…tolerated suffered the consequences.

As if sensing his thoughts, Pinky wrapped his spectral arms around Brain’s shoulders. He couldn’t feel the saccharine display, and that fact pained him more than he cared to admit.

“Ever heard of cooperation?” Mr. Itch sighed. “You have the starring role in the show tonight. Give us something to work with, at least.”

Brain gritted his teeth. He’d had enough of this delay. “I’m through with this prolonged torture! Just get it over with already!” he shouted. “I refuse to be paraded around like a sideshow attraction!”

“Touchy,” Mr. Itch huffed in disdain. He turned back to the audience. “But I digress. Now, this tragedy involves a man who ventured into the depths of the underworld to retrieve his closest companion. He placated everyone with his music, including Hades himself. And because Hades was a total sap, he allowed the man to lead his companion back to the surface world.”

His arm swept out and a large stone staircase appeared. It spiraled and arched far above their heads, and Brain caught a glimpse of a starry sky hidden among the crimson stone.

Pinky belonged in the surface world, where the grass and horses and inanimate objects he had yet to befriend waited. And he was relying on Brain to bring him there.

Perhaps it was silly to reach for arms he couldn’t feel, but Brain placed his hands atop where Pinky’s fur should’ve been. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d voluntarily touched Pinky without hurting him.

Something to rectify if they made it through this trial.  

“And that brings me to the final condition.” Before Brain could react, darkness engulfed his vision as he was plucked up into the air, his head squeezed by an unforgiving, burning hand. Brain bit the skin like it was just another day of rough handling by some careless scientist, but a fiery pain flooded his throat and he released the hand immediately. It felt like magma had crammed its way into his esophagus, and there was no lifegiving water to relieve him.

Then he was roughly deposited at the base of the stairs.

Brain tried to turn around, but Mr. Itch forced him to stare at the first brimstone step instead. The steps were several inches taller than him, though he could still reach the next step if he jumped high enough.  

“Ah, ah, ah,” Mr. Itch scolded. “I wouldn’t do that if I were a pathetic mortal like you. In this little tale, Hades told the man he couldn’t look at his companion until they were both in the land of the living, lest she be lost to the underworld forever. For your challenge, I’ll be invoking that same clause.”

Brain resisted the urge to bite that supernatural conman’s fingers off. He would only wind up damaging his throat.

“I can hardly expect Pinky to follow me in the presence of distractors!” Brain protested. “He’s liable to find a stalactite interesting, or collect rocks, or do anything else other than-“

Mr. Itch only cackled, pillars of lava erupting alongside his cruelty.

And Brain remembered why the story was known as a tragedy.

The man looked at his companion just as they reached the surface world. Her soul was forever lost among the dead. Though he tried to reclaim her, the underworld wouldn’t release her again. And he spent the rest of his life mourning her loss.

Hell expected a faithful adaptation. They knew Brain would inevitably lose his temper and forget that he couldn’t look. They knew they’d be able to keep Pinky forever.

They knew.

Yet they put on this charade anyway.

Because false hope was the cruelest lie of all.

“Your challenge begins, Brain,” Mr. Itch declared, and the wicked fingers slowly released Brain’s head. “And remember, no looking at Pinky until you’re both in the surface world. But that’s a moot point, ain’t it? You’re bound to forget soon enough. At least try to go for most of the length before your undeniable failure, okay? We wouldn’t want the show to end too soon.”

Mr. Itch vanished in a puff of smoke.

Undeniable failure.

“I am not a failure,” Brain snarled to himself, more out of habit than belief. But his petulance at the phrase enabled him to climb five steps without pausing for breath.

And he didn’t require Pinky to boost him up! He climbed five steps by himself!

But that thought was banished as he climbed the sixth step. Pinky couldn’t physically boost him, nor provide mental fortitude. The adrenaline rush wore off quickly, and Brain’s feet dangled in the air as he tried to find a grip on the rocky outcropping. But he managed, albeit with difficulty. On the count of three, Brain heaved himself over the ledge.

He laid on the hot stone to catch his breath, face tucked under his hands so he wouldn’t see Pinky.

No words of encouragement. No strange tics. Nothing except the roar of lava, mockery, and his darkening thoughts.

Funny how one didn’t appreciate what they had until it disappeared. Pinky always lifted Brain, boosting him to higher places he couldn’t reach alone. It was something he’d always done, and Brain had let it slide out of practicality. Just treat the action like a living, portable stepstool. It was far better than expending more energy than required during plans.

In hindsight, would it have killed him to say thank you? Or at least nod in gratitude?

There was no time limit, but Brain stood up and dusted himself off, though the crimson dust would just attach itself to his fur all over again within seconds. It was impossible to shake off, and Brain wondered if he would ever be able to fully cleanse himself of it.

Taking a deep breath, Brain reached for a handhold above his head and hauled himself up.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot again. One more repetition. Start all over for the next stairstep.

It was a rhythm. Rhythms weren’t full of what-ifs or what could’ve beens. Concentrate on the rhythm. Nothing else mattered.

He had to keep moving. Keep climbing. It was better than sitting there and doing nothing. He couldn’t rest. He wouldn’t.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

Brain’s throat burned. His fur was slick with perspiration, though it only served as a method to lose precious water instead of cooling him off. His limbs trembled, and it was difficult to keep hold of the unforgiving stone.  

But he’d only completed the first two spirals! There were still several more tiers left, and the starry sky seemed much further away than before.  

“Pinky, if…if we make it out of here-”

Brain shuddered as he laid down to rest. His voice was raspy from the fumes and thirst, but he had to keep talking. Had to say something. Maybe Pinky would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he wasn’t even in earshot.

“-if you want to leave…”

He trailed off, rubbing away teardrops that quickly evaporated into smoke. His chest ached, but he couldn’t say for certain that it caused by physical labor.

Brain couldn’t make an attempt at global conquest even if he succeeded. Pinky’s help would no longer be necessary.

Between the two of them, Pinky knew how to live. He knew how to talk to people, how to have fun, how to narf through his pathetic lot in life with a smile on his face.

Brain only knew survival. Maybe it was his former field mouse instincts that somehow bled into intellect. Maybe his primitive instincts weren’t as gone as he’d like to believe.

He would never be anything else but a lowly test subject. If someone decided to euthanize or feed him to a snake one day…well, it hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Another mouse would take his place. And when that mouse died, it would be replaced again. And the progress would continue in the name of scientific progress.

Dying for science.

Yes, that’s how he’d meet his end.

But Pinky’s kindred spirit would touch others. Whether it was through an executive office, the lead role on Broadway, or even just helping a stranger on the street, he could do so many good things for the world around him.

The world would love Pinky back.

And if a solitary mouse in a lonely lab happened to turn on the TV and see his former associate surrounded by an adoring crowd, he would be happy to see the world has changed for the better.

So he had to keep going.

He had to try. Try to bring Pinky back to the surface world…and let him go. He shouldn’t keep anything he didn’t earn.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The halfway point now.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

He miscalculated the distance to the top of the next step and reached too far. He lost his footing and plummeted several inches. Growling under his breath, Brain punched the unfeeling stone, though it only bruised his knuckles instead of making him feel better. Then he tried again.

And again. And again.

He couldn’t grasp these handholds! There was no logical reason why. They were approximately the same size and shape as all the other outcroppings! It shouldn’t be this difficult!  

“Pinky, where are you when I need you? Cease your nonsense at once and help me!” Brain screamed, clutching the stone and closing his eyes so he wouldn’t see Pinky. Eight tries. Nine tries and counting. Why couldn’t he do something as simple as this?

But Pinky couldn’t help. It was useless to ask.

What’s the matter? Can’t manage a simple task on your own?

“Of course I can!” Brain snarled, and he gripped an outcropping so tightly that it broke off in his hand. He hurled the useless pebble into the abyss below, then found a different handhold and successfully hauled him to the next step out of sheer spite towards that nagging, insistent voice.

How do you know Pinky’s following you? How do you know he’s not enjoying his newfound flight capabilities?

He didn’t know. Pinky smiled when he discovered he could float as nothing more than a ghost, it was true, but the smile hadn’t reached his eyes. Pinky was incapable of deception. Even without speaking, the intention had been clear. Pinky only wanted to comfort Brain.

That Pinky could learn to live a life of nonexistence. That somehow Pinky would adapt to no touch, no words, no rest in hell.

If only those blank eyes had been more accusatory. It would’ve been far easier to deal with.

Pinky shouldn’t adapt to this. He couldn’t.

But he might-

No. Brain had to try. He had to try and not fail.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The ground quaked beneath his feet, and Brain clung to the crimson ledge he rested on. He wouldn’t put it past hell to throw him to the bottom and negate all his efforts.

Still, he pressed on.

The sky was closer now. Several autumn leaves were blown along the wind.

Are you sure Pinky’s behind you?

Three spirals left. Almost there. They were almost there.  

Failure would come soon. He was sure of it.  

He didn’t know much time had passed in the world beyond. Was it November already? Was it time for the world to replace the witches and skulls with turkeys and wreaths?

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The navy sky was filled with countless twinkling stars. Lights from a faraway airplane blinked steadily as it flew into the horizon. Ever closer, ever brighter.

“Do you see that, Pinky?” Brain whispered. For once, the stars gave him no existentialist dread. A feeling he dared describe as hope filled his chest and strengthened his limbs. All fears were banished to the recesses of his mind. He climbed with renewed purpose, not pausing for breath. “Just a little farther. We’re almost there. Stay behind me, Pinky. Just stay behind me.”

He’s not behind you.

“Yes, he is,” Brain retorted.

This was important. Pinky always came through in matters of importance.

Always is so absolute. You know those statements are usually false, right?

The ground rumbled, accompanied by a distant outraged roar, but Brain paid no heed to it. He ignored his doubts, he ignored the roars, he ignored everything but the starry expanse above and the rocks beneath his hand.  

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

He could do this. One more ledge. One more handhold. One more foothold.  

The sky was so inviting, so beautiful…

Brain gripped the last ledge. He was filthy with dust and sweat, but he couldn’t care less. He was almost there.

Pinky was almost home. Pinky would be able to feel again.

And he would leave. But that was alright. Pinky wouldn’t suffer in hell on Brain’s account. That’s all that really mattered.

He hauled himself onto the last ledge…

…but he didn’t see the pitchfork’s hilt in time.

An agonizing pain shot through his body as he lost his grip and plummeted to the previous step. His back slammed against the hot stone. A searing pressure in the center of his forehead kept him pinned. He gasped for air, his dry throat throbbing.

An enormous crimson devil blotted out the night sky, and Brain’s fragile hope ripped away from his heart. The Devil’s eyes burned like lava as he glared hatefully at Brain, digging the pitchfork ever so slightly into his head.

It wouldn’t take much force to crush or melt his skull, whatever the Devil fancied.  

“I OFFERED YOU CHANCE AFTER CHANCE TO WALK AWAY WITH THE WORLD. BUT YOU STOLE WHAT RIGHTFULLY BELONGS TO ME. YOUR PUNISHMENT SHALL BE DEATH.”

The silky, snake-oil voice was gone, replaced by the full power of a supernatural entity. What was a mortal, pathetic rodent compared to the Master of Hell himself?

He was going to die. He’d failed to save his friend. His only friend.

If his soul was trapped in hell forever…if he had to suffer for all eternity, he deserved it. For his selfishness. For his callousness. For his failure.  

“Please don’t hate me, Pinky…please don’t…” Brain choked out. He didn’t know where Pinky was. But if Pinky was watching, or listening, he could only ask that Pinky wouldn’t hate him.

He lay there, his determination gone, his lonely demise imminent.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Troz!”

And the pressure vanished.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Troz!”

A cacophony of Pinky’s favorite syllables sounded again and again and again. Though Pinky’s voice wasn’t among them, Brain still heard that oddly wonderful Cockney accent loud and clear.  

“NO! PINKY IS MY PROPERTY!”

The Devil roared as dozens of lesser demons swarmed him, the pitchfork swinging wildly at anyone who dared to oppose his reign. Something screamed at Brain to find cover before he was caught in the power struggle too, but his body refused to obey any rational thoughts.

Several demons ripped the enormous pitchfork away from their master, and the weapon crashed into a wall and spiraled into the depths below. Other demons screeched and clawed at every part of the Devil they could reach. The Devil swatted one pig-snouted demon slashing away at a shoulder, and he flew over Brain and tumbled down the stairs, grunts of pain echoing off the walls.

Immediately, his nearest allies howled in fury and attacked with more vigor than before. They chomped on cloven hooves, they fended off every swipe, and shouted warnings to their comrades before the Devil’s wrath could reach them.

No longer was self-preservation their only concern. They were a united force now, one the Devil himself had underestimated severely.

With one final shove, the Devil toppled over the edge. The ground rumbled at his furious roar, which quickly decreased in volume as he fell into the abyss.

Brain’s heart pounded, but the Devil didn’t resurface. A resounding cheer went up from the demons, then two of them rushed past Brain, presumably to check on their downed ally.  

The remaining demons watched Brain closely. He flinched under attention he didn’t want. He just wanted to leave this horrible place. Then he realized they weren’t exactly looking at him, but rather somewhere just above his head.

“Narf!” the demons shouted, hands raised to their foreheads in a salute.

There was only one explanation behind the sudden camaraderie.

Pinky.

Pinky had been helping him all this time. Somehow, he’d influenced selfish demons to unite against their cruel master and protect each other from serious injury. Somehow, he’d found a way to say narf despite his voiceless state.

Somehow, Pinky still wanted to save Brain, even after all he’d done.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain said softly.

He didn’t need to question Pinky’s presence any longer.

A cool, fresh breeze blew over Brain’s fur as he climbed the last step. The starry sky was clear once again. It was a nice view.

The demons stood aside to allow them safe passage. He kept an eye out for any hostility, but other than their natural weapons, there was none to be found. Whether it was out of respect for the trial he and Pinky had endured, or if they were just an unpredictable force and Pinky’s presence somehow warded them off, he didn’t know.

Brain stepped onto the cool asphalt of the DMV parking lot, and had this been a different circumstance entirely, he might’ve found it rather ironic that one would be glad to set their sights on a DMV. He shivered from the temperature difference, the chilly autumn air contrasting heavily from the sweltering inferno.

Pinky’s contract shimmered into existence , and Brain’s own agreement followed within seconds. Someone had stamped ‘VOID’ in red capital letters across the top page of both contracts, and fire blazed across the crimson ink and engulfed the papers entirely. The ash and smoke left behind were swiftly carried off by the night wind.

Just like that, their contracts were gone.

In his relief, Brain turned to face Pinky to properly share their victory.

IDIOT! If you turn around, Pinky will be claimed by the Devil. Your entire challenge would be for nothing!

And Brain’s foot stopped mid-turn.

The realization struck harshly.

He didn’t truly know if the Devil had a claim over Pinky’s soul. The lesser demons only bought them time to escape hell. Brain doubted they’d be able to hold their master back forever, even as a united front. But if the Devil came back, what then? Two lab mice couldn’t hope for a permanent victory against a powerful, malicious entity.

There was only one solution.

Brain could never look at Pinky again.

He didn’t trust himself to not slip up. Sooner or later, he’d forget that he couldn’t look. And Pinky would be gone again. Brain’s efforts would be in vain.

Hell wouldn’t be so accommodating the second time.

“Narf! Brain, I can say narf again!” a familiar voice exclaimed behind him.

Brain’s ears perked without any conscious input, but it was a minor loss of control in comparison to everything else he’d endured tonight.  

He heard the clatter of pebbles and a swish of fallen leaves alongside a gentle tap of dancing feet against the asphalt. Pinky could interact with the environment again. He could dance and speak and produce all the noises he wanted. It was a small consolation, at least. The contract never said anything about never being able to hear Pinky again.

“Brain?” Pinky asked again. “Are you alright?”

Brain forced himself to stare at a white line that marked a parking space instead.

Don’t look, he chanted. You mustn’t look.

A featherlight touch landed on his shoulder, a gentle warmth not quite touching his back, but just close enough for him to feel its presence.

Brain hastily pulled away. He hated this feeling of helplessness, of being unable to function without physical reassurance. But he couldn’t accept Pinky’s touch either. It would just lead to further loss of control over his emotions, and he’d forget that he couldn’t look.

Pinky would have to leave ACME Labs and Brain forever. He would probably find it difficult at first, but he’d adapt. That’s just what he did.

Brain’s entire body ached. He just wanted to wash away the fire and brimstone, tend to his injuries, and sleep. It didn’t matter what he wanted to do after that. Even if he ignored the contract’s terms and tried to conquer the world again, it would never be the same.

He set off for the lab. Pinky followed, as always.

Maybe it was a selfish risk to not send Pinky away at this very moment, but he was grateful that Pinky would accompany him for one last after-failure trek.

o-o-o-o-o

He’d completely forgotten about his very brief stint as emperor. The only reminder from that timeframe was Snowball, who’d exchanged his jester cap and bells for the royal crown as soon as Brain abandoned his post to rescue Pinky.

ACME was no longer a mighty castle, but just another underfunded lab. Nobody chanted his name, called for their problems to be solved, or held signs that proclaimed Brain as their ruler. His statue had long vanished.  

He didn’t want to see loyal subjects, enormous wealth, and undisputed power tonight. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever want them again.

Right now, he was just Brain, an exhausted, downtrodden lab mouse who would have to try to live without his only friend.

On the way back, Pinky had chattered about anything and everything, prattling on about cheese flavors, then about an inflatable reindeer someone had put up a month early, and finally to paint swatches so their section of the lab would be, according to him, ‘happy and go-lucky and livelier than a herd of hippopotamuses!’.  

Brain said nothing. He just let Pinky talk. This might be the last time he’d ever hear that silly voice again.

“Maybe we could get some feng shui going, just like on HGTV! Zort!” Pinky said, and Brain could just imagine him scratching his head in a vain attempt to get any thoughts going. “Wait, no…we should paint radish roses on the walls! And make them with our radish rose whatchamawhozits! Twice the garnishes for our dinner parties! What color swatch should they be though? Raspberry rose? Rosemary? Oh, we should get one with a funny name! What do you think, Brai-oh, hey Snowball! Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Snowball scowled, stalking over to Brain and casting a contemptuous glare at Pinky. The loss of the hamster’s usurped power was still fresh in his twisted mind.  

“My statue is gone thanks to whatever you did!” Snowball jabbed a finger into Brain’s chest. But Brain barely felt it. He didn’t feel anything towards Snowball at the moment. Not betrayal, not hatred, not even bittersweet nostalgia.

Brain only wanted rest.

“You should’ve stayed in hell,” Snowball growled. “He promised he’d keep you there.”

Brain placed his hand over Snowball’s finger, but he didn’t have the strength to push it away. The hamster raised an eyebrow at the lack of resistance.

“And he kept that promise, Snowball,” Brain said quietly. “Perhaps not in the way you expected, but he kept it.”  

Snowball scoffed. He wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

The laboratory doors were wide open. It was a small consolation that he wouldn’t have to go through the mail slot.

“But…our contracts went up in smoke, Brain. Literally.” Pinky’s voice quivered. “And we’re on the lab’s doorstep too.”

It was time to break the news. Maybe he shouldn’t prolong the goodbye, but Pinky needed time to clean himself and pack his belongings.

“I wish to speak with Pinky. Leave, Snowball.”

“Fine,” Snowball spat, shoving past Brain. “I’ll talk to that blasted devil myself. Even his lawyers will have a difficult time against an entire corporation’s legal team.”

Once he was gone, Brain gestured for Pinky to follow him inside. The interior no longer held a throne, red carpet, or a golden wheel. Just their cage, several counters, and standard laboratory equipment.

Pinky made a valiant effort to hold his tears back, though he couldn’t completely stop all the whimpers from escaping. “P-poit. Nothing good ever comes out of wanting to talk,” he chuckled weakly.

“No, I suppose not,” Brain said. He gripped the side of a bottom drawer to give his hands something to do. His hands were scraped raw from climbing, though he relished the sting. Stings were only a small pain. He could handle small pain. More importantly, he couldn’t turn around, not even to see Pinky off for a proper goodbye.

You have to leave now. Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Pinky, his mind supplied.

It wasn’t enough. Whether it was one word or a million, they would never properly express everything he never said. What was he supposed to say to Pinky, who gave his soul away for Brain and never asked for anything in return?  

“Brain, are you mad cause I didn’t help you?” Pinky asked. “Is that what this is about? Cause…I wanted to. I tried to push you up the steps, but I couldn’t feel you…and I tried shouting and cheering and yelling too! I…I don’t think you heard me. I’m sorry for being useless, Brain. You struggled so hard for me, and I was just useless!”

When Mr. Itch imposed his horrible terms, Pinky tried to cheer up Brain. Even when Brain had doubted, Pinky had been by his side. And he’d somehow inspired the demons to come to their aid.

That wasn’t useless. Not at all.    

Even if Pinky hadn’t done all those things, Brain wouldn’t have held it against him. His anger was directed entirely towards the Devil himself.  

“You’re not useless, Pinky,” Brain admitted. “I never should’ve implied it before this entire mess started. I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a while, only broken by the tap of Pinky’s feet on the tiles.

“Okay, I forgive you,” Pinky said. There were no strings attached. It always took Brain by surprise, how there were no additional requirements for Pinky’s forgiveness. “How come you won’t face me, Brain? I wanna see you.”

Brain took a deep breath. Best to get it out of the way. Get it done.

He couldn’t say done and over with. There was no over. He would never be the same without Pinky.

“I can’t see you, Pinky. I can’t look at you. Ever again. ” Brain pressed his head to the drawer, fighting the urge to turn around. “Don’t come any closer. You’ll just…it’ll make it harder on both of us.”

But Pinky’s footsteps drew closer. Of course they would.

“Make what harder?” Pinky echoed.

A warm hand fell on Brain’s shoulder, so different from blazing fire and cold wind, and something inside him broke.

“This goodbye, you idiot! He’ll come and he’ll take you again if I look at you! So leave at once for your own safety!” he yelled. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, parched from thirst and raw from fumes.  

“Then what was the point?” Pinky’s hand tightened around Brain’s shoulder. “Why would you rescue me only so you could tell me to leave? Why would you come after me and get hurt so much? At least you’d have the world if I’d just stayed there!”

“I WOULDN’T HAVE THE WORLD IF YOU REMAINED IN HELL, PINKY!” Brain screamed back. “I WOULDN’T HAVE ANYTHING!”    

Not the one that truly mattered, anyway.

Pinky’s long tail drooped, ears falling back. Tears spilled out of his blue eyes.

And Brain’s anger melted away, replaced by all-consuming fear. His temper struck again, and he’d forgotten.

He’d turned around.

And he was looking straight at Pinky, right into the sorrowful expression he wore.  

“No,” Brain whispered, shaking his head as he put as much distance between himself and Pinky as he could. But his body wouldn’t cooperate. He only managed a few shaky steps backwards. The lab was always so big. Why did it feel so tiny now?

Pinky was close. Far too close.

He’d looked.

The Devil was coming.

Lurking in any shadow, ready to snatch Pinky.

“He’s coming, Pinky!” Brain cried. “You have to get out of here now!”

“Who’s coming?” Pinky asked, reaching for Brain again. “Brain, are you alright? Your ears are floppy.”

He wasn’t even trying to run.

“No, I can’t let him take you. Not again!” Brain quickly glanced around the room. Surely there had to be plenty of places for a mouse to hide!

But the drawers were far too obvious, desk items could be moved easily, and his mind wouldn’t work just like every plan he ever came up with didn’t work and his attempts to protect Pinky would end in failure and he failed even when he wasn’t after the world and he just wanted to do something good for once without failing miserably-

White filled his vision as he was pressed against a warm chest by a gentle arm. A strong heartbeat thumped against his ear. A hand gently slipped under his chin, tilting his head up until he was looking into reassuring, sky blue eyes.

Despite the tears, Pinky’s gaze promised only hope and light and companionship.

Then Pinky carefully touched the area Snowball had jabbed, the center of Brain’s forehead where the pitchfork almost crushed him, until his hand lingered on the cheek he’d elbowed during their fight on the podium.

Gentle. Kind. Worried.

And Brain cried. Pinky held him close, not complaining when Brain’s tears dampened his fur or when the leftover crimson dust smudged against him. Tears splashed against Brain’s head, and he wrapped his own arms around Pinky, just to let him know it was alright if he needed to release his tears too. He didn’t know if he was hugging too tightly or holding too loosely, nor did he know if his arms were in the correct position at all.

Brain stroked the fur along Pinky’s spine, hoping the gesture conveyed that he forgave Pinky for accidentally hurting him. He took Pinky’s tiny hum as a good sign.  

Pinky had been deprived of all sensation. This was comfort for him, just the reassurance of touching Brain. Of being close to him.

They stayed that way until nothing was left but exhaustion and damp fur along their cheeks. Brain’s legs buckled, unable to hold him up any longer.

Pinky caught him. “It’s okay, Brain. I’ll carry you,” he said, and his tone left no room for argument.

Never once did Brain feel like he was going to fall during Pinky’s climb up the counter. He only relished the close contact.

But he had to let go all too soon.

Pinky set Brain on the counter, then brought him a thimble of water from their bottle. The cool water flowed down his throat, bringing him much needed relief. He sipped slowly, giving Pinky time to dampen several fluffy towels in the sink.

“Pinky, aren’t you tired?” Brain asked as he exchanged the thimble for three small towels. One was damp, another held strawberry-scented soap, and the last one was dry.

But Pinky shook his head, yawning loudly as he skipped away to clean himself as well. He made lots of noise as he freshened up, just to let Brain know he was there.

And with his mouth wide open too. It was rather uncouth, and despite his exhaustion, Brain rolled his eyes at just how Pinky-like that action was.

Brain made sure to use all three towels the way Pinky intended, scrubbing out the dust with the damp towel, and to his surprise, it came out rather easily, then rubbed the strawberry scented soap and clean water into his fur, and finally dried himself off with the last towel.

As he patted down his fur to try and get it into some order, Pinky came back. The messy tuft on his head stuck out in every possible direction, and so did the rest of his fur.

“You’re a mess,” Brain sighed as Pinky picked him up and carried him back to the cage. Pinky laughed softly as Brain flattened a particularly egregious tuft on Pinky’s shoulder. The acrid fire and brimstone scent was gone, and now they smelled of fresh strawberries.  

They settled into their shared bed. Pinky set Brain down on his preferred side, then pulled away. Pinky frowned for the barest second, but it was quickly replaced by a gentle smile.

Yet he knew Pinky still needed physical contact.

And so did he.

“Pinky?” Brain whispered.

Pinky took that as an invitation to pull Brain into a secure hold. “Yes, Brain?”

“Don’t go…” Brain nuzzled into Pinky’s chest, into the odd yet comforting warmth he freely gave. One last stray tear slipped from his eye. “Please don’t go.”

Instead of replying with words, Pinky rested his jaw on top of Brain’s and hummed softly, the vibration soothing to his worried mind. His tail draped over Brain’s waist to anchor him.

“Just say narf, just say narf.

We’re alright, we’re okay, so let’s say narf.

You and I will have tomorrow nights again.

No matter what happens, I’m always your friend…”

The melody was soft, the rhythm reassuring. Brain closed his eyes and believed in Pinky’s familiar song.

They were together. Tomorrow night would come. He was sure of it.  

End AN: So...I’ll be real, some parts of these were really hard for me to write cause I feel so bad for torturing them like this. Give them love guys. They need it. 

[startrekwintergiftexchange]

breathing in snowflakes

There’s snow, so damn much of it Nyota doesn’t ever think she can tear her eyes from the window. She can see Bones and Jim, attempting to roll snow into a base big enough for a snowman, but too preoccupied with stuffing it down each other’s shirts to really be making any head way with the snowman. Spock stands a little to the side, in a very thin jacket and pants, and even though hasn’t been snowing for long she can see him shivering from the living room window. “Here,” she  goes out, wraps a scarf round his neck, hands him a set of gloves and a thick, woolen jacket, “Watching you suffer is even sadder than watching the two of them give each other pneumonia,” Nyota says, waving off Spock’s thanks. “Now—-let’s show them how you really build a snowman." 

…

It was Kirk’s idea, so many of their families had been off-world, or absent, and there’s no worse way to spend the few days they have alone, counting the spaces between their breathes, utterly alone. He and pushed and cajoled—- “It’ll be fun,”he had said, “The captain’s allowance is more than generous—-”, and when they have protested that they couldn’t possibly allow him to spend his allowance on this, Jim had just grinned, wide and open and guileless, and only said “You didn���t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?”. So, they had let him, and now they’re here together, tucked up in a cabin with more food than they could possibly eat, and a tree that trembles and towers over them. 

The tree that had nearly been the end of Jim and Bones and Spock, it had been too big for the door, but Bones had been insistent, “I’ll get this damn tree in the door if it kills me!”

 “It does pose a significant risk,” Spock had said sagely, arms clasped behind his back, “The annual risk to any one individual being killed by a tree is approximately 1:10,000,000, or 6 deaths per 60 million head of population——”

 “We’re off duty,” Bones groaned, “And it’s bloody cold out here, so stop your yammerin’ and put your back into helpin’ me get this tree in.” The fun had come after, when they’d gotten the tree up, and quietly, throughout the night, everyone had added their ornaments to its boughs. Nyota had produced a shimmering glass sphere, filled with the red hued sand of her desert from home. (The way the snow slopes in dunes reminds her of home, but there’s no where she’d rather be than here).

Spock had pressed the remnants of a few bits of biological foliage, large white flowers with bright blue veins that pulse from the cold temperatures, found on their last off world mission, which he thought the others might find aesthetically pleasing. He had seen them, growing in cracks, filling up the air and space with their presence, and had thought of each of them, blooming in such unlikely places, flourishing even in the empty vacuum of space.

Bones had up strung tinsel and mistletoe, like they do at home, like he imagines his daughter might be doing now, and tied the thing up with red ribbon, and a bust of the Enterprise as their star. Jim had produced popcorn, real popcorn, to decorate the tree, derailed only by the propensity by with Spock was eating it. “Would you stop eating all the popcorn? It’s supposed to go on the tree!” Jim shakes his head, equal parts exasperated and amused—-more popcorn had gone in Spock’s gullet than on the tree, as Spock looks up, brows drawn together, “Was this both not meant for communal eating?” With the ghost being given up, Jim had sat down next to Spock and they had shared the rest of the popcorn together in companionable silence. When their fingers brush at the bottom of the bowl, Spock doesn’t flinch away. Jim feels it, just a wave of contentment, not his own, but the sentiment shared entirely.

 Nyota’s throat constricted at the sight of it all, the care and the thought poured into every detail, had slide her hand into Jim’s and squeezed once, twice. His palm is dry and warm in her own, and he radiates the kind of happiness that’s infectious, that makes the air lighter and lifts your heart.

They can’t be home for Christmas, but sheltered like this together, a bottle of rum between the four of them (or rather, the two of them still on the floor singing loudly, and badly)—- yes, the four of them together like this, crowded and not enough space between, sitting on the floor taking shots like they’re back in the academy—Kirk’s reindeer ears slopping over, the Santa hat tucked awkwardly behind Spock’s ears, Nyota jingling with a belt of sleigh bells wrapped round her middle, and Bones juggling coal, winking roguishly at the lot of them, it’s enough. 

“God damn it, Jim, I’ll burn all your gifts if you keep throwin’ the mistletoe at me.”

“It’s certainly beautiful, but the cold might be the death of me,” Nyota says in an aside to Spock, burrowing her hands in her sweater, and doesn’t realize she’s said it in Vulcan until Kirk sneaks his hand on the crook of her elbow to pull her down, and she snatches Bones to throw him off balance too on principle, because if she must be thrown from her reverie, Bones can’t very well be left alone either. That wouldn’t be fair, would it?

 “Your host requests a Christmas conducted in Standard, you brainiacs.”

“A Starfleet captain should know better than to be so culturally insensitive,” Nyota says in retort, not without a smile. “Christmas is a human holiday——” he starts to say, but she cuts him off,“There are over 6,909 spoken languages, and that’s only accounting for the human ones—–” Jim just bats his eyelashes, chin in his hands, “Tell me more, professor,” which derails them entirely and sends them into giggles. 

As the three of them burrow down into the covers, Spock sits next to them, carefully extricating his legs from the mess of limbs, but hovers close. His presence is steady. He takes it in, and devotes it to memory, the camaraderie—the ease in which he can be comfortable with this people who occupy so much in his life. Even he is not immune to the laughter, the cheer of it all, his eyes soft.  Bones is grumbling, but the shine of his eyes and the lilt of his mouth tell another story, and Nyota’s face hurts from the smiling, and Jim, oh Jim; his is grin is so wide it reaches the corners of his eyes, and he shines bright, the past five years rolling off his shoulders. He is as he should be. Young, carefree, with the people he loves within arms reach.

They all are, in this moment, together.

It’s a picture-perfect, the four of them, together like this.

“I must admit, Jim, whilst the temperature far exceeds my species tolerance, the slopes of the snow are quite—” 

“Adequate,” Bones and Kirk drawl out, so dead pan that Nyota can’t help but hide her smile behind her hand. Spock looks positively affronted, but it’s hard to take him seriously garbed as he is in an outlandishly ugly Christmas sweater, the bells of his reindeer sweater ringing out gently, the fur of the Santa hat steadily encroaching on the skin of his forehead.

“You know, if the wind blows, your face will freeze like that,” Jim says as he ribs Spock with his elbow, and Spock’s eye brow raises so far up it nearly disappears. Kirks nose is red, but his blue eyes shine bright. Spock gestures over to the table, one eyebrow raised as he takes in the rather large bottle of rum in his hand. “I never have understood the human propensity to drink oneself to excess.” Jim just giggles, Nyota sighs, and Bones pours another shot with a relish. “12 days of Christmas, 12 excuses for merrymaking, can I get an amen,”

“Christmas singular day——” 

“Spock,” Jim says, hands on his heart, blue eyes flashing false and wounded, “All things that can be dragged out in excess, shall be, it’s encoded in our DNA.”

“Human DNA, perhaps,” Spock amends dryly. 

“—–of which you share half. And you know, he is actually right,” Nyota nodding sagely, and now it’s Spock turn to look affronted, “Traditionally, the first day of Christmas starts with a partridge in a pear tree—–”

 “And ends with twelve drummers drummin’,” Bones pipes up. Spock sighs, and they laugh, their hearts light as the snow that drifts down, and shrouds the world outside.

All that matters is this moment, now. Outside, it may be cold, but here, together as they are, all the four of them could possibly feel is warm.

For @captain-stelliferous 

[bellatrix-la-strange]

Pandora’s Box

[Full story this time]

“Nice and easy does it,” whispered Pandora, her soft hands overlapping her daughter’s as they both emptied the contents of a pot into a boiling cauldron. “Very well done, sweetheart,” she praised, gently peeling her daughter’s fingers off the metal handles.

“Was it really? Or is that something you have to say because you’re my mother and you love me so very much?” asked eight-year-old Luna.

“The science and art behind spellmaking are both held in a delicate balance between one another,” said Pandora. “This means that even the smallest changes can have enormous consequences. If you hadn’t done it correctly, I would have let you know so you’d never make the same mistake again.” She’d turned away from the work table to begin scrubbing the pot in the sink. “That being said, I do enjoy pouring praise on those I love very very much.”

“Like me,” stated Luna, eyes wide and mischievous.

“Like you,” smiled Pandora. “Why don’t you keep an eye on that while I finish up here and once it’s done, we can call your father in from the garden and have some tea.”

“Okay.”

The legs of a stool screeched across the floor as Luna pulled it around the table. She clambered onto the seat and was content to keep watch over the potion in near silence. Every once in a while, she’d hum disconnected tunes, both from existing songs and imagined ones. When Pandora recognized the song, she’d hum along with her daughter until the girl tired of the same melody and reverted back to her solemn vigil.

“Mum?”

“Mm, yes, dear?” hummed Pandora.

“What did you say was supposed to happen after we added the Draught of Wilderness?”

“It’s supposed to turn yellow, then solidify until it become gelatinous and produces small pockets of purple and mustard bubbles. Shouldn’t be much longer now.”

“Oh,” said Luna.

Then, “Mum, I think something’s wrong.”

Pandora didn’t question her daughter’s statement. She whirled around, dropping the sopping pot in the sink full of water with a splash and rushed to Luna’s side.

“What’s the matter, swee—”

A great plume of smoke erupted out of the cauldron like the contents of a shaken, fizzy drink. The smoke was the darkest of purple, almost black, and shot up high until it hit the ceiling and began crawling across it, darkening the room until it seemed like night-time.

“Mum, what’s going on?” Luna’s inscrutable, airy voice trembled as she craned her neck to observe the festering clouds in the room.

“I’m not entirely sure, sweetheart,” conversed Pandora, purposefully keeping her own voice unaffected. “It’s getting awfully dark in here, though. Why don’t you head on out, get some sunshine and fresh air, while I clean up in here?”

Pandora didn’t wait for her daughter to respond before she was hauling her out of her chair and pushing her to the door. The smoke was solidifying - beginning to take its form and shape from a hybrid of magical and non-magical animals. The entire ceiling was covered in those dark clouds and as the substance reached the edges dropping into walls, they started to change, grow a likeness to legs, arms, heads, some with horns, others wings and all of them with razor sharp teeth and amber, glowing eyes.

“M-mum, what are those?” whispered Luna. “I don’t think they like me.”

“It’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart, you just head out through the door and—”

Whatever she was about to say was cut short as one of the smoke creatures detached itself from the mesh of clouds on the ceiling and dragged itself down the wall. One of its three-fingered paws touched the top of the door and left behind scratches on the wood.

Pandora’s breath caught in her throat. She grasped Luna’s shoulders and twirled her around, hugging her close enough to stop her from getting a good look at the creatures twisting and jerking into existence above them. Pandora took out her wand from the pocket on her apron and held up over her head.

“Protego Dome!”

The familiar light blue film of the protective charm dropped out of the tip of her wand to form a protective dome around mother and daughter. The smoke creatures had almost completely solidified now, only the thinnest wisps of smoke trailing behind their forms. They were crawling down the walls and over the windows, blocking out the last remnants of light.

One of the creatures - a beast with the body of a snake, the clawed wings of a bat and the head of a boar - dropped down from the ceiling and landed directly in front of them. Pandora held back her terrified scream as half its body rose up off the ground to survey the room and she couldn’t control the trembling in her body or the tightening of her arms around her daughter as the creatures locked its gaze on them.

“It’s really dark now, mum.”

“Y-yes,” - Pandora cleared her throat - “yes, I know, darling. Mummy’s trying to see how she can go about letting some light back in.”

“It’s not even night-time yet,” Luna mumbled into her mother’s stomach. “Where did the sun go?”

The smoke creature which had landed at their feet opened its mouth and hissed, exposing its sharp teeth and two thin tongues which it proceeded to run over its lips.

Pandora shuddered.

“It’s still there, it’s just… playing hide and seek. Like you do with your daddy sometimes, or with that Weasley girl from across the village. Remember her?”

Luna’s head burrowed further into her mother’s apron as she bobbed it up and down. “She’s nice. I like her,” she said.

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Pandora replied lightly, her mind working a mile a minute trying to figure out a way out of the mess they were in. She dared to glance back at the door and noted that it was now completely obscured from view. The smoke creatures had taken over the entire room, they were clinging to the walls and dangling from the ceiling, taking their time inching closer and closer to the huddled pair in the centre of the room.  

Pandora’s arm was growing tired from being held aloft for so long and she was developing a piercing headache from holding the magical shield for so long. She was pouring all her strength into it, praying it would be enough to sustain them, to protect them from the creatures mercilessly taking over their home.

Huddled up as close to her as she was, Pandora felt Luna’s humming vibrate through her chest before the sweet melody made its way up to her ears and at that moment, Pandora’s heart broke a tiny bit. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such an exceptional daughter, would probably never find out in fact, but she would go to the ends of the Earth and beyond for the little girl in her arms, to see her smile, to make her laugh, to brighten up her day…

“Sweetheart, you know what?”

The humming stopped. “What?”

“I think I just had a stupendous idea,” Pandora declared. “Since we can’t go out and enjoy the sunshine right this moment, what say you we bring in some of that light in here, hmm?”

Small fingers dug into Pandora’s sides as Luna thought the proposal through.

“How? Can I help?” she asked, oblivious to the creatures now circling their protective dome, using their claws, horns, tongues and tails to poke at the magical defences.

“You certainly can,” announced Pandora. “I need you to close your eyes - keep them shut as tight as you can - and think about the happiest memory you have.”

The dome shook as one of the creatures with a long snout and scales running down its back opened its mouth and breathed toxic green fire.

“My happiest memory?” asked Luna. “Like when you, me and daddy went to that beach for Christmas and spent all that time searching for the sand dollars that Sea Nymphs use?”

Pandora’s eyes filled with tears, the same ones that felt like they were choking her with a vice around her throat. Her hand trembled as she brought it up to cradle the back of her daughter’s head, fingers running over the silky strands of hair she’d fashioned into a braid that very morning.

“Yes, darling, just like that. Can you do that for me?” Luna nodded her head. “Are you doing it right now?” Another nod. “Perfect.”

Pandora had a thought just then, the thought that these were quite possibly her last moments on Earth, on this plane of existence. What she was about to attempt was full of risk and sacrifice. It required more strength than she had and would leech off her magic until she had none left so it would then target her life, the very essence which kept her walking, breathing, eating, talking, thinking, hoping, loving.

If her spell went well, she’d be walking out of her own life so her daughter would have a change at living hers.

Pandora gathered her daughter close and breathed her in, recognizing traces of jasmin from their homemade soap, hints of burned wood and coal from the fire warming their living room and freshly turned soil from a morning spent rolling around in the garden.

“You know what’s so amazing about good things like happy memories, sweetheart? We can call on them whenever we need them and they’ll come back to us, just like that. Are you at the beach with daddy now?”

“And you,” said Luna.

“That’s my girl.”  

The protective dome quaked and shattered. Pandora kept her wand raised over her head as the smoke creatures prowled towards them. She didn’t flinch away from their glares as they focused their yellow eyes on her. In fact, she met them head on with an unspoken warning and a promise brimming in her eyes and coursing down her cheeks.

Pandora gripped her daughter tight, closed her eyes and spoke the incantation to the spell she’d been working on for the past decade.

A light flickered to life on the tip of her wand. Though it appeared nothing more than a solitary bubble hovering in the air, radiating a steady glow in the dark of the room, there was something in the depths of the bubble, right at the centre, which danced and gleamed with the essence of life.

Pandora had no way of knowing what she’d summoned to her home to protect her daughter. She couldn’t possibly know that it was only through the slightest miscalculation, the smallest amount of give in the tightly wound strands holding the spell together which allowed her to be woken up several minutes later by her panicking husband.

“What happened? Are you all right? Is Luna okay? Is she hurt? Are you hurt? Should I call for a Healer? I should call for a Healer,” Xenophilius rambled, dark hair sticking to his pallid face.

Pandora shifted and groaned. She’d fallen on her back with the weight of her daughter pushing her down and causing twice as much damage when she’d hit the floor. She was sure to have bruises all over her back and arms, and even her head going by the warm, pulsing bump sticking out behind her left temple.

“I-I think I’m fine,” she mumbled, taking Xenophilius’ hand gratefully and pulling herself up. “Check on Luna, please, Xeno. I think she’s just unconscious but if there’s anything wrong with her, I don’t—”

Xenophilius nodded and took their daughter in his arms, carefully resting her on top of the long work table when he took out his wand and ran the few diagnostic spells he knew.

“She’s fine,” he breathed out, then, louder, “she’s going to be just fine, my love. Nothing a hearty bowl of soup and some pumpkin juice won’t fix.”

“Thank the Gods,” sighed Pandora. She stumbled upright on unsteady legs and fell into her husband’s arms, whispering what had happened in one steady stream of shaken breaths.

That night, when Luna’s bedtime came about, Pandora was quick to snatch her favourite book out of their shelves, one about adventure and daring and love and sacrifice, and read it to her daughter from front to cover. She continued reading aloud long after Luna had nodded off and didn’t realize her husband had been listening in until she found him sprawled out outside their daughter’s door, head hanging to his chest, legs sprawled out in front of him.

Over the weeks after the incident in the laboratory Pandora found herself spending more and more time with her nose buried in her books, her hair sticking up at all ends from the fumes of boiling cauldrons and the bottom of her pencil worn to the lead from continuous anxious chewing. She didn’t know what she was searching for as she explored and took apart the spell which had saved her and her daughter’s lives months ago.

She knew she’d never take her family for granted though and that was why she limited daytime experiments in her lab and continued them late at night, when Xenophilius and Luna were asleep. Her project would come along faster if she knew what she was looking for, but she couldn’t explain what fuelled her to keep investigating and experimenting any more than she could make sense of her husband’s passion for The Quibbler. It was like a singular substance added into the mixture which made her whole and without it, she wouldn’t be the person she was, the people they all were.

…

Luna was happy. She’d suffered nightmares for a few weeks but those seemed to have been left in the past and she now ran around the garden, played with the Weasley girl, continued her search for the creatures she and her father were convinced were hiding in far-off corners of the world and had resumed helping her mother in her lab - though they read their instructions out of a book rather than Pandora’s personal notebook.

A year passed in this fashion. By this time Luna had completely forgotten of that one scary incident with the smoke monsters jumping out of the darkness.. She was oblivious to her mother's vigilant eyes as she helped stir a potion, or the twitch to her father's shoulders when she wrapped herself in her child-sized, potion-making apron and trotted out of the room.

Therefore, she thought nothing of it when one night, when she had woken up in the late hours for a cup of water, strange noises started filtering into the kitchen through the cracked door to the laboratory. Luna did find it curious that her mum would be working so late but it wouldn’t be the first time Pandora lost track of time fiddling with one thing or another and tuning her experiments to perfection.

Luna was prepared to go straight back upstairs - in the frigid cold of the kitchen at night, her warm bed was calling to her like an irresistible siren - but then the kitchen became. She’d been relying on the moonlight to guide her through the house but now that it was gone, covered up by a black cloud, she was left feeling out of sorts, her childhood fears of monsters under the bed having not quite left her yet.

As suddenly as the darkness descended, a light joined it side by side, its long, spindly fingers reaching for Luna from under the lab’s door. Luna walked towards it - to her mum - but came to a brisk stop once she spotted what was going on inside the room.

The smoke creatures were back, circling her mother who stood in the centre of the room, three large circles drawn on the ground in chalk with a different candle placed at each cardinal point. There were symbols etched into the floor in dizzying patterns, ones which Luna had never seen before, and her mother, Pandora, was positioned in the middle of it all, wand in hand.

“I needed to know,” Pandora was saying, “I couldn’t not know. It was eating away at me, I just… I had to do something. I didn’t know this would—I didn’t know, please.”

“Don’t think you can fool us, Mrs Lovegood,” purred one of the smoke creatures, its strange features shifting from one form to another in a matter of seconds. “We may not be as powerful in this plane as we are in ours but we are strong enough to spot a lie.”

“I am not lying,” begged Pandora, “I was just… curious and foolish and I never should have continued that spell—”

“Alas, but you did.”

Luna couldn’t see the creature from the doorway, but she could tell from the lilt to its voice that it was smiling. She wanted to run to her mother, pull on her hand and rush her as far away from the room as they could get. They’d all run away together - Luna, her dad and her mum - and they’d hide like the Crumple-Horned Snorkack and they’d never have to worry about these creatures finding them ever again.

“Please,” sobbed Pandora, head dropping forward in supplication. “My family… They have no idea, they—”

“No harm will come to them if you submit willingly.”

Luna was young, almost too young to understand what was happening on the other side of the door, but she wasn’t young enough to ignore the way her heart got caught in her throat, how her legs weakened to jelly,  as her mother’s wand clattered to the ground and she dropped to her knees. She must have made some noise for her mother’s spine suddenly became ramrod straight and her eyes snapped to Luna’s still form by the door.

A message passed between mother and daughter then. Pandora didn’t have to say anything for Luna to understand what her mother was asking of her, the impossibility of it. Her lips parted, ready to argue and beg if she had to, but her mother shook her head almost imperceptibly and mouthed ‘Stay. I love you’.

Luna’s response to that was to break down in silent tears and noiseless sobs.

“I won’t put up a fight,” said Pandora, gaze now focused on the creatures in front of her. “Do me a favour and make it quick, please.”

The creatures hissed, growled, snickered and chirped all at once.

“As you wish.”

In a flash of darkness and power, the creatures lost their form and turned back to shapeless smoke, then began joining together and converging into a thick cloud directly on top of Pandora. They began moving together in spirals, creating a tornado which quickly picked up speed until papers, books, chairs and tools were flying around the room. As the storm finally took its shape, Pandora calmly tipped her head back and stared at the moving masses above her.

The creatures struck. The tip of the vortex caressed Pandora’s lips then pushed into her, flooding her body with the creatures’ essence until her skin turned blue and dark, raised veins erupted across her face, protruded from her neck and lined her arms. Luna watched in mounting horror and fear the way one would view an accident unfolding from far away, unable to help and frozen with the knowledge that even if she were there with her mother, she wouldn’t be able to save her.

Smoke was starting to leak out of Pandora’s nose, eyes and ears. The cloud above her was becoming smaller and smaller as the creatures took over her body and once the last of them had filtered through, Pandora slumped to the ground, convulsing. There were cracks and slaps as bones broke and flesh hit the ground and then Pandora’s mouth opened once more and white, ephemeral mist drifted out, curling and twisting to the ceiling where it sank through the cement and ambled into the night.

The creatures were gone; only Pandora’s lifeless body was left behind along with her daughter, who tripped into the room and stumbled to her mother, dropping down by her side.

That is how Xenophilius Lovegood found his family the very next morning, hours after his wife’s death. He let out a senseless cry and cradled the bodies of his wife and daughter in his arms, one cold as ice and the other seemingly on her way there.

Though Luna was woken up by her father’s presence, she left herself be hugged, kissed and murmured to, only barely registering what was going on around her. She sensed it when her father picked her up and detached her fingers, one by one, from her mother’s shift. She saw through flashes that she was being moved upstairs and felt the soft cotton sheets of her bed against her legs as her father tucked her in. She also heard the mutterings of a sleeping spell, and after that, there was no force strong enough to pull her away from the clutches of sleep to hear what happened next…  

Obliviate.

[marcusberesford]

In Gaeta Yesterday it was spring and we should be having winter... I wonder if Trump really wakes up that the world has other pronlems rather than trying to start another war just to be re-elected?!? What is global warming? A: Here's a simple definition of global warming. (And yes, it's really happening.) Over the past 50 years, the average global temperature has increased at the fastest rate in recorded history. And experts see the trend is accelerating: All but one of the 16 hottest years in NASA’s 134-year record have occurred since 2000. Climate change deniers have argued that there has been a “pause” or a “slowdown” in rising global temperatures, but several recent studies, including a 2015 paper published in the journal Science, have disproved this claim. And scientists say that unless we curb global-warming emissions, average U.S. temperatures could increase by up to 10 degrees Fahrenheit over the next century. Q: What causes global warming? A: Global warming occurs when carbon dioxide (CO2) and other air pollutants and greenhouse gases collect in the atmosphere and absorb sunlight and solar radiation that have bounced off the earth’s surface. Normally, this radiation would escape into space—but these pollutants, which can last for years to centuries in the atmosphere, trap the heat and cause the planet to get hotter. That's what's known as the greenhouse effect. In the United States, the burning of fossil fuels to make electricity is the largest source of heat-trapping pollution, producing about two billion tons of CO2 every year. Coal-burning power plants are by far the biggest polluters. The country’s second-largest source of carbon pollution is the transportation sector, which generates about 1.7 billion tons of CO2 emissions a year. Lets start all of us to understand this... Happy 2020 #gaetalove❤ #gaetasea💁 #gaetaitaly #globalwarming #globaltemperature #worlddisaster #marcusberesford #carpediem (presso Gaeta Serapo) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7IO_Iso9ky/?igshid=16bknndgaokr5

[everythingchoices]

Those Who Have Built and Broken Us Part Two (JakexMC)

Author’s Note: This is part two of my entry for #ChoicesCreates Week 18. Thank you to @kittenmusicals for hosting and @hollyashton for keeping this wonderful event going! ❤❤

Characters: Jake, Marissa (MC)

Pairing: Jake x MC

Word Count: 1943

Book: Endless Summer

Prompt: “We are made of all those who have built and broken us”

Summary: This is set 5 years after the gang is rescued. Quinn has passed away and everyone wants to meet Jake and Marissa in Costa Rica.

The bedroom is dark, the only illumination coming from the moon high in the night sky. A path of moonlight streams through the white lace curtains and runs across the wood floor, leaving a path for Jake from the bathroom to their queen size bed strategically placed under the ceiling fan in the middle of the room. The night air is still and muggy, his skin immediately drenched in perspiration. Tree frogs and crickets sing in unison outside the open bedroom window, creating a lullaby he usually enjoys listening to before nodding off. Tonight the pilot’s mind won’t shut off, refusing  to give Jake any piece.Thoughts of humid nights at LaHuerta flood his brain, overloading his senses with memories of him and Marissa and their friends. Flashbacks of them all lounging along side the pool, sipping fruity drinks out of tall glasses with colorful umbrellas, courtesy of Raj. Not all of the memories produced from their time spent on the island are bad ones.

Jake sighs softly as he sits on the edge of the bed, the purple satin sheets sticking to his toned thighs from the heat. He rubs the back of his stiff neck before slipping the dogtags over his head, placing them in their customary spot on the bamboo stand next to his side of the bed. In a quick, almost unnoticeable motion, Jake snags a half empty bottle of liquor that’s stashed under the night stand, a bottle of tequila he thinks Marissa doesn’t know about, and quickly downs several swigs. He lets the strong alcohol slide down his throat, burning like hot coals before hitting his stomach. The familiar warmth radiates  through his belly like a raging fire. After several more smaller sips, Jake wipes his mouth with the back of one hand before slipping the bottle with the familiar gold and black label back in it’s hiding spot. The drinking has slowed since they all left the island but Jake knows the powerful stranglehold alcohol has on him will never diminish itself completely. Fortunately Marissa never throws his crutch back at him. She never judges or ridicules. They both have their demons and she understands this, something Jake will always be thankful for.

He gingerly slides his tired body into bed, trying very hard not to wake Marissa sleeping next to him. He looks up at the ceiling, counting the number of knots he can find in the oak beams that run along the ceiling. This is a habit he’s developed to help him fall asleep that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. He’s beginning to get the impression this trick isn’t going to work tonight. He rolls over on his side so he can be the big spoon, lovingly wrapping his arm around Marissa’s skinny waist. He laces his hand with hers, stroking the engagement ring with his finger. It’s been four months since he proposed to her in this very room, a night  similar to this. Jake still can’t believe she said yes. He wonders what the gang is going to think when they find out tomorrow. He can already hear a sarcastic comment from Zahra and congratulatory high fives and fist bumps from Craig and Sean. He hasn’t been this nervous and excited since he finished basic training. A small smirk easily forms around his lips before leaving delicate little kisses along his fiance’s exposed neck.

Before he reaches her luscious earlobes, Marissa grunts and begins to stir. He curses himself silently, ashamed and a little angry for waking his sleeping beauty. Usually he can’t help himself, though. It doesn’t take much. Even a quick glance and smile makes his nerves tingle and his heart beat faster, sometimes making it hard for him to breathe.

Marissa slowly rolls over onto her back, her gorgeous long brown hair in clumps from sleeping hard under a heavy blanket. A few strands refuse to leave her glistening face. Jake chuckles softly, gently pushing a couple stubborn strays from her forehead. He can’t believe how soft her porcelain skin feels, his body shudders as he strokes her cheek.

She leans into his caress, kissing each finger softly before taking his hand in hers. “Hey baby,” she whispers, her brown eyes looking at her favorite pilot lovingly. “You’re up late,” she finishes, bringing their hands to her lips so she can pepper his knuckles with kisses.

“I’m sorry Princess,’ he apologizes to her. “I didn’t wanna wake ya,” he drawls, his cheeks lightly flushed. He’s happy the room is dark enough she doesn’t notice.

Slowly pulling herself up from under the black blanket they share, she slips a pillow behind her back. After adjusting it a few times, she leans against the headboard, using the pillow to support her back.

“Baby, no,” Jake protests, stroking her arm to try to convince her to lie back down. “You need to sleep. Gotta long day ahead of us,” he finishes, a worried look in his bright blue eyes.

“So do you,” she scoffs, a hint of annoyance in her tone. “You have to fly all of us, in case you’ve forgotten,” she teases, leaning over to peck him quickly on the lips.

Jake runs his hands through his shaggy hair. “No. I definitely didn’t forget,” shaking his head slowly. He slides in next to Marissa,wrapping his arms around her middle. “I don’t know if I can do this, Process,” he whispers, laying his head on her chest.

“Jake,” she sighs, stroking his hair with one hand while rubbing small circles of comfort on his muscular back with the other. “What’s wrong?” she urges, kissing him on the top of his head. When he doesn’t respond she tries again. “Baby. Tell me what’s wrong,” she pleads, trying hard not to come off as demanding.

He squeezes her tighter, not wanting to let go. She’s the first woman who makes him feel safe. She makes him feel comfortable and allows him to open up to her. He isn’t afraid to show her his vulnerable side, to let her share his worries and burdens. It feels so good to not be alone. “They’re all risking everything to come and see me. To come and see us,” he begins. “I don’t want them risking their lives to come see me. But I miss all of them a lot. You know what would happen if they got caught with me. What would happen to you?” he sighs, coughing while choking back tears. “i don’t know, Marissa,” he shakes his head, trying not to look too vulnerable. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

Marissa slowly caresses her favorite pilots cheek before stroking his freshly shaved chin, guiding his blue eyes to meet her deep browns. “They’re doing this because they miss and love you,” she reassures him. “Remember, this is all they’re idea. They want to come here for you. For Quinn,” she kisses him softly, biting his bottom lip before letting go.

Jake nods his head but can’t find the correct words to respond. “Hey Top Gun. Why don’t you grab that bottle from the nightstand and we’ll !take a couple draws from it before we go back to sleep,” she teases, a mischievous smirk growing from her lips.

“I should have known,” he admits, kissing his fiance quickly on the lips before reaching over for the bottle in it’s hidey hole. He sits up and leans against the headboard next to her, removing the cap and taking a quick gulp before passing it to Marissa.

She takes the bottle from Jake, holding it by the neck and pulling a couple of quick draws, coughing a little while the warm liquid makes its way down her throat. “Whoa! That shit is strong,” she gulps, her eyes beginning to water as she passes the bottle back to Jake. She tries very hard not to reveal to him the struggle she’s having keeping that last drop down. It’s important to show Jake she can keep up with him. She climbs mountains and bungee jumps from bridges with him. The alcohol is always rough on her. “You gotta love tequila at…..” she reaches for her phone. With a manicured finger she taps on the screen, the light from the display casting a glow over her face. “2 o'clock in the morning,” she smiles, a teasing tone in her voice as she places the device back on her table.

Jake takes the bottle from her, stroking her finger lightly as she pulls away. He laughs lightly before taking one last swig. “You want any more, Princess?” he asks. He already knows the answer. After a quick shake of her head, he screws the cap back on the bottle and tucks it back in its spot, ready for the next long night. He returns to his spot, sitting up next to her and waiting for sleep to come.

She grabs his hand, caressing his wrist with her thumb. “This probably isn’t a good idea,” she starts, leaning her head against his shoulder. Her chestnut brown hair pools on Jake’s skin, leaving goosebumps all over his arm. “We all risked our lives for each other on LaHuerta. None of us come out of that alive without each other. None of us make if off that island without you, Top Gun,” she lifts her head up, kissing his lips deeply, lingering a moment before letting go.

“Baby, you had a big part of that. A huge part,” he sighs, letting go of her hand and slowly sliding back down on the mattress. He leans into her, wrapping his arms around her waist and laying his head on her belly. This is his favorite cuddling spot. He feels safe like this. The beating of heart always  calms him. This is when he really knows he’s not alone anymore. He will always have his future wife by his side.

She knows her pilot needs some reassurance. She lovingly strokes his long hair, kissing him softly a couple times on the top of the head. “We all have a bond now. We are made of all those who have built and broken us. Or something like that, I forget the quote,” she smirks in the dark. She feels Jake chuckle softly against her chest before she continues. “Your past, Mike, that asshole general, that god forsaken island, broke you for a time. You felt alone and unwanted, always on the move and looking over your shoulder. But our friendship, our love, our bond we have with each other, has built you back up. It has allowed you to trust again. To love again. To feel whole again. With Quinn passing, part of that bond has broke. They want to come see you to reaffirm the bond. To show you they love you. As much as I love you,” she finishes quietly, lovingly stroking his arm, listening to his breathing.

Jake squeezes her tighter, almost to the point of hurting. Marissa doesn’t mind, though. She knows he needs this and she’ll do anything for him. “I love you so much, Princess. You have no idea,” he trails off, stifling a yawn against her chest.

“I love you too Top Gun,” she chuckles quietly. “We should probably get to bed. We’re flying out in a few hours,” she finishes, waiting for a response from him.

After a few moments she hears his fiancee snoring softly, his head still placed on her chest. She softly strokes his hair and sighs softly. “I hope this is a good idea.”

She slips the extra pillow behind her head, leaning against the headboard, waiting for sleep to come.

[peejay-love-blog]

Not Yet Too Late to Save the Earth

               Global warming is no longer a new issue of the world, in fact, it has been a great dilemma yet the situation is becoming worse.

               Let’s be informed about this global problem through the online post of Ms. Amanda MacMillan of NRDC.

 Q: What is global warming?

A: Here's a simple definition of global warming. (And yes, it's really happening.) Over the past 50 years, the average global temperature has increased at the fastest rate in recorded history. And experts see the trend is accelerating: All but one of the 16 hottest years in NASA’s 134-year record have occurred since 2000.

��Climate change deniers have argued that there has been a “pause” or a “slowdown” in rising global temperatures, but several recent studies, including a 2015 paper published in the journal Science, have disproved this claim. And scientists say that unless we curb global-warming emissions, average U.S. temperatures could increase by up to 10 degrees Fahrenheit over the next century.

 A: Global warming occurs when carbon dioxide (CO2) and other air pollutants and greenhouse gases collect in the atmosphere and absorb sunlight and solar radiation that have bounced off the earth’s surface. Normally, this radiation would escape into space—but these pollutants, which can last for years to centuries in the atmosphere, trap the heat and cause the planet to get hotter. That's what's known as the greenhouse effect.

 In the United States, the burning of fossil fuels to make electricity is the largest source of heat-trapping pollution, producing about two billion tons of CO2 every year. Coal-burning power plants are by far the biggest polluters. The country’s second-largest source of carbon pollution is the transportation sector, which generates about 1.7 billion tons of CO2 emissions a year.

                 Now, the question is, what can you do right now to save the earth? The answer relies on us. 

https://www.nrdc.org/stories/global-warming-101

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmiro.medium.com%2Fmax%2F2560%2F1*rZba53h9hHbJGbpbFwZdxw.jpeg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fmedium.com%2F%40mit_ra%2Fglobal-warming-reality-or-a-business-trick-4ecc2a697ee2&docid=n9kMnG-iyV00uM&tbnid=fOIblAC-4yCF6M%3A&vet=10ahUKEwj56M_6ta_mAhUnyIsBHdgvA_MQMwh_KDowOg..i&w=1280&h=720&hl=en&bih=608&biw=1366&q=global%20warming&ved=0ahUKEwj56M_6ta_mAhUnyIsBHdgvA_MQMwh_KDowOg&iact=mrc&uact=8

[anitagitta-blog]

Introduction to Environmental Studies Blog 14: Air Pollution and Climate Change and Ozone Layer

Chapter 18: Air Pollution

Having grown up in the suburbs of Northern Westchester, I have had the privilege of not being exposed to  air pollution or having to suffer from its various consequences. I guess that is why indifference to the issue is so mind boggling to me. Yet,  to those individuals who live in populated cities like the Bronx, Beijing or Jakarta, air pollution is simply an everyday thing that you must adapt to. There are fashionable face masks that people can wear when they go outside.  There are apps on people’s smartphones that tell them the population levels in the air for the day. Homes, schools, and businesses can install air filters to clean the air inside.  Of course these adaptations are necessary for the health and safety of people especially children and the elderly. However, they do not solve the problem

Case study: South Asia’s Massive Brown Clouds

In recent years, satellite pictures have captured thick brown clouds of pollution that span from India to China. These cloud, containing dust, smoke and ash, come as a result of the deforestation of forest for the purpose of growing crops for sale. In the instance of massive brown clouds, the pollution is caused by the cutting down of trees that would act as air filters and clean the air. In addition to there being thick pollution in the air, these clouds influence weather. They have melted away the Himalayan glaciers which supply most of Asia with water

In order to understand what causes air pollution and how to prevent it, one must understand the nature of the atmosphere. The atmosphere is not a just one big thing, it consists of several layers. The air we breathe is in the troposphere , the layer closest to the earth’s surface. About ¾ of all of the earth’s air mass exists in this layer.  The troposphere is a sensitive layer, fluctuations or  changes in air currents, winds, concentrations of CO2 and other greenhouse gases have an impact on weather.

The next layer of the atmosphere is the stratosphere which acts as a protector against Ultraviolet radiation. Most of the ozone (O3) present in the atmosphere exists in the a portion of the stratosphere. The ozone layer present in the stratosphere acts as a global sunscreen keeps about 95% of the sun’s UV radiation.

Not every chemical in the air is classified as a pollutant. It is only those that exist in high enough quantities in which they can negatively affect human health, ecosystem, and human made materials. Within that, pollutants can be divided into two different categories: primary pollutants and secondary pollutants. Primary pollutants are chemicals directly enter the air from human activities and natural processes. Secondary pollutants are those chemicals in the air that react with primary pollutants. Of course it is important to acknowledge that pollution poses a threat to people outdoors AND indoors.The biggest example of pollution that people in developing countries  tend to see is industrial smog which is a mixture of sulfur dioxide, sulfuric acid and other thick particles.  Pollution from open fire cook stoves that burn wood, coal, or dung have terrible effects on the respiratory health of millions of people. This is a huge issue because most of the people who rely on this source of cooking are those that live in poverty so they do not have access to proper health facilities where they can be treated. As women and children are most affected by this because women are usually the ones who prepare food and tend to have their young children near by. Additionally, if there are no other alternatives for people the health and environmental issue will continue to persist.

Major air pollutants that exist in the air are carbon oxides, nitrogen oxides, nitric acids, sulfur dioxide, sulfuric acid, particulates, ozone, and volatile organic compounds. In that group, CO2 is probably the most talked about because scientists that increased levels of CO2 in the atmosphere are linked to human activities. I think that what is so scary about these particles being in the air the risk that they pose to human and crop health. For example, high levels of nitrogen oxides from car engines and burning coal are known to irritate eyes, noses, and throats. Along the same lines, high levels of sulfate particles  in the air damage crops, trees, soils, aquatic life in lakes as well as corroding metals and stone on buildings. For those who do not even care about environmental issues or climate change, air pollution still poses a threat to the economy. The money that would be needed to be spent to for workers to get health care benefits or for the buildings structures to be fixed would cost a lot of money for companies. As asthma rates increase, the government and companies will have to budget for necessary medical attention

In addition to the other byproducts of pollution, acid rain another one.  The use of tall smokestack vents by industrial companies to vent  exhaust gas has contributed to an increase in acid deposition also known as acid rain. Acid rain is detrimental to the environment because it affects forests by stripping nutrients such as calcium and magnesium from the soil. Additionally acid rain affects respiratory health and the leaching of toxic metals.

Now that we understand what pollution is, what it does to the earth and human health, we have to think about how to resolve the issue. The ecological economist Andreas Malm write that carbon dioxide will always be a product of producing some commodity. Is it possible for possible to have an economy that does not pollute the air will gaining profit? Yes. If the market can create the problem they certaining have the potential to fix it. The government can impose stricter regulations that cap how many pollutants companies can emit.

Chapter 19: Climate Disruption and Ozone depletion

When the term global term global warming is used, I often hear something like “oh no, what is going to happen to the polar bears?” Though this question is relevant, it illustrates that disconnect that people have when it comes to the affects that a warming climate can have on the environment and human health.

Case study:

Greenland is an island located between the Artic and the Atlantic Oceans. It is covered in ice as thick as two miles long. Yet, in recent years scientists have noticed that the Greenland’s Ice has begun to met at increasing rates because of rising temperatures.  This poses a threat because it would result in rising sea levels. Rising temperatures and sea levels would create a host of problems for the environment and the human population.

As we have discussed in previous classes, education and environmental literacy play a huge role in the indifference to environmental issues. To understand climate change, one must understand the distinction between weather and climate. Weather is what you experience on a daily basis.” It is short term changes in the atmospheric variables such as temperature, precipitation, wind and barometric pressure in a given area over a period of hours or day.” On the other hand climate is long term ( at least a decade) change in these variables. Climate change is not a new concept.  Every few decades the climate does change naturally: there are hot years and cold years.  This is because the climate is a very sensitive system that depends on various factors.

A warmer atmosphere has can have many negative implications on the Earth’s  ecosystems. It is reported that droughts will increase if the temperature rises. This is because more water will be evaporating that that is precipitating. Increased droughts means that less trees and plants will grow which will also have an effect on the amount of carbon dioxide present in the air. Usually located on high altitudes, permafrost or snow that has not melted for at least two consecutive years is at risk for melting if temperatures continue to rise. This is bad becasue underneath the permafrost lies 50-60 times the amount of carbon dioxide emitted per year. We know that the amount of carbon dioxide emitted needs to go down drastically in order to curb adverse effects of climate change. The melting of the permafrost would have a detrimental affect of the amount of carbon present in the atmosphere. The two projected issues that I just stated not inspire a call to action. With the projected rising temperatures, there will be more extreme events such as heat waves, droughts which have the potential to kill millions of people. Image of the effect of cyclone in Mozambique 2019

With this scientific information, we must take concrete steps to mitigate climate change. We must realize that this is a GLOBAL issue and that politics has a role to play in solving it. Especially in the coming presidential election, it is absolutely imperative that voters demand concrete actionable climate action from presidential candidates. The Paris Agreement and the Green New Deal are good first steps that the US government can take  towards mitigating climate change. However more must be done. There needs to be more money put into scientific research for cleaner energy. Lastly, there must be efforts made to reduce the number of greenhouse gasses that are emitted. If major world governments came together and committed to taking steps to lower their GHG, that would have a phenomenal effect on this global effort.

Blog question: Is it possible for possible to have an economy that does not pollute the air will gaining profit?

Word count: 1586

[successalchemist]

EMF and WiFi – How to Protect Yourself From the Invisible Killers

What are EMF and WiFi and why are they harmful?

“From power lines in your home to cell towers of powers vastly exceeding what is required, these forms of radiation are quite simply "Death Rays".” ~ Nancy L Hopkins, www.cosmicreality.net. In May 2016, Mike Adams of Natural News published an article entitled Massive government study concludes cell phone radiation causes brain cancer. His article opens by saying “After decades of denials and attacks by the media which called people concerned about cell phone radiation "tinfoil hat-wearing conspiracy theorists," a massive, multi-year study funded by the federal government now concludes that yes, cell phone radiation causes brain cancer. The study is published here and it's entitled, "Report of Partial Findings from the National Toxicology Program Carcinogenesis Studies of Cell Phone Radiofrequency Radiation in Hsd: Sprague Dawley SD rats (Whole Body Exposures)." The findings, which chronicle an unprecedented number of rodents subjected to a lifetime of electromagnetic radiation, present some of the strongest evidence to date that such exposure is associated with the formation of rare cancers in at least two cell types in the brains and hearts of rats, reports Scientific American” The Effect of WiFi radiation on seed germination and plant growth – experiment, conducted by scientists at the Technical University of Kosice has demonstrated the effect of WiFi radiation on cress seeds: With the rapidly increasing number of artificial sources of electromagnetic fields, it needs research of their effects on living organisms. The most common object of these studies is primarily a human who is exposed to electromagnetic radiation in the environment, at home and at workplaces. In this area are also observed the changes in behavior of animals and plants caused by the high-frequency electromagnetic radiation. Plants are very sensitive because they can perceive a lot of perceptions from the environment. In this article, we observed the effects of WiFi radiation on the growth of plants, namely garden cress. One sample was exposed to long-term electromagnetic radiation in the vicinity of a WiFi router. The second sample was exposed minimum to that radiation. It has been shown that long-term exposure of WiFi radiation in the vicinity of the cress causes changes in growth and development as well as visible changes of discoloration and vitality. Effect of Wi-Fi radiation on seed germination and plant growth – experiment. PDF Download Available from: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/313726390_Effect_of_Wi-Fi_radiation_on_seed_germination_and_plant_growth_-_experiment. According to this article in Waking Times, INDUSTRY WHISTLEBLOWER CLAIMS THIS IS WHAT’S REALLY KILLING HONEYBEES: “In an interview with Miles Johnston, Gabe revealed that he used to work in the mobile or cell phone industry in Britain and was trained to understand frequencies and bandwidth. As part of his job, he used to carry around a backpack containing all sorts of devices of varying frequencies. Not surprisingly, being so close to so much artificial EMF and RF (radio frequencies) affected his mood, health, behavior and entire life. He later quit his job. What makes this story so interesting is that Gabe was telepathically contacted by the bees, or the bee consciousness, with a crucial message. (Animal communicators such as Anna Breytenbach are able to contact the collective consciousness of other species, which speaks to them in one voice). The bees haven’t merely communicated with Gabe; they have actively tried to make him understand, and make him experience, exactly what they are going through. This has led him to get headaches, feel disoriented, lose his train of thought and suffer a host of other unpleasant effects. It appears as though the bees, through Gabe, are desperately shouting out to mankind: stop creating artificial EMFs that interfere and jam our frequencies – you’re killing us!” These are just a few examples of the mounting evidence that EMF and WiFi radiation is harmful not only to our health but to the health of the planet.

How To Protect Yourself from Deadly Sources of Radiation

You are being continually bombarded with radiation from electrical devices, WiFi networks, cell phones, SMART meters... and the list goes on. Research into Shungite has shown that it has many healing and cleansing properties, one of which is to protect against EMF and WiFi radiation. So what is Shungite? https://youtu.be/fJ3IrRcC2qg Shungite is a mineral with the same basic CHEMICAL composition as coal. Shungite, however, is constructed with a very large molecule nicknamed the Bucky Ball or Fullerene.  So, unlike coal, Shungite does not burn, is not affected by pressure and is of a greater hardness. “Shungite is the planet’s gift. It is planetary-celestial alchemy... After a while, this planet has created alchemy known as Shungite. And Shungite is the representation of every crystal that has ever been experienced by every being living on this world past, present and future, so it is every crystal put into one. Just as we are having our awakening, the crystal and mineral community is also having their own awakening. Their process is just happening before our frequency of time is coming into existence. That is why there is a manifestation of Shungite in general. It is there for the people to use. But even the mount of Shungite that isn’t used, it is still doing its mineral community purpose, which is ascending those beings who are becoming Shungite beings...and Shungite is a sample encoding of infinite energy into a finite object....” - Andrew Bartzis, Galactic Historian, August 1, 2016 Where is it found? Shungite is found in the Zazhoginsky Shungite deposits in the Russian Republic of Karelia near the eastern border of Finland. The mineral was called Shungite after the village Shunga. The Russians have known of the beneficial properties of Shungite for many years. It was used to build a good portion of Saint Petersburg by Russian Czar Peter the Great. He had come to know of the material because it was where he had built a healing spa for his soldiers. The waters that flowed through the deposit were known to have healing properties. The Russians began to use Shungite in the production of cast iron, for coating blast furnaces, for producing sand for water purification systems, and for building material to shield against electromagnetic radiation. It is now being used in paints, concrete, brick, and finishing solutions. As Doctor of Technical Sciences Yuri Kalinin (Director General of Research and Production Complex "Carbon-Schungite", Petrozavodsk, Republic of Karelia ) writes: “The electromagnetic (EMF) shielding qualities of building material made from Shungite is being used "not only in health care facilities, nursing homes, rest homes but also in enterprises electronic, radio, nuclear industry, communication centers, residential buildings, built on tectonic faults near high-voltage lines. In fact, a new class of building materials to protect the public from electromagnetic radiation without metal screens." Nancy L. Hopkins, author of the book Cosmic Reality, has made it her mission to educate the world on the properties and benefits of Shungite and to make it available in many forms through her non-profit organization Cosmic Reality Shungite. Nancy and her team are continually researching and developing affordable new applications for Shungite and producing devices that protect against the damaging effects of EMF and WiFi radiation. Personally, I have used Shungite products ever since I discovered Nancy and her mission in 2013. I first used it by putting an S4 Sticker on my WiFi router and immediately noticed that the atmosphere in my home felt calmer. I use it for purifying and activating water by placing just 3 Shungite nuggets in my glass.

When my little Jack Russell was attacked by a pack of dogs and nearly killed in 2013, one of her wounds had to have 9 layers of stitches and the vet said to expect repeated reinfection of the wound because of the bacteria and matter introduced by the bite. Sure enough, this wound kept getting inflamed and weeping until I attached a Shungite nugget to her collar. After that, the wound healed completely. There is a wealth of information at http://www.CosmicReality.net where you can also find the Shungite Store and purchase a wide variety of Shungite products. There is also a very informative book by Regina Martino entitled Shungite – Protection, Healing and Detoxification, which includes images of the effect of Shungite on the energy body. Please share this information with your friends and family and on social media to raise awareness of the deadly effects of EMF and WiFi radiation and how Shungite can protect against it. Read the full article

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Bill Nye Answers Science Questions From Twitter

greetings greetings bill nighy here today we're going to do some science support our first question comes from Destiny Dolan no serious question what makes people think global warming isn't a real thing like it's February and at 70 degrees outside upside down smiley emoji so I'm thinking now that it's cognitive dissonance this is a real effect where people have a certain worldview they're confronted with evidence which conflicts with the worldview so they have dissonance conflict in their minds what's generally done instead of changing your worldview which you may have held your entire life you dismiss the evidence and along with that you dismiss the authorities that may have provided the evidence bird TV asks if we can clone extinct species should we I think it'd be cool what we're all talking about is like a woolly mammoth hi Steve right bill it's my woolly woolly mammoth impression this one would be named Steve anyway I think would be cool but it's not up to me carry on do you know how long Earth has existed this is from ISA Nissan and I would say yeah 4.6 billion years rocky on line I have a doubt related to evolution theory if we evolved from monkeys then why are there still monkeys haha that's brilliant you're the first guy to ever wonder this we did not descend from monkeys monkeys and we have a common ancestor so you may have seen this picture this famous arrangement this isn't really accurate it wasn't just one to the other to the other as we say the the family tree of hominids like you and me and even my old boss haha it's not just a straight line of one organism leading to another it's a bush as we say so there's many many branches and you and I ended up on one of them and so we did not descend for monkeys monkeys and us have a common ancestor and you can prove it Anthony Arjun Arjun Arjun asks what makes a planet a planet you gotta have enough gravity to be a ball and right now you got to have enough influence to clear out your but from other stuff other debris stand with Rand rights can alternative energy effectively replace fossil fuels absolutely yes burning coal is the worst thing we can be doing so I encourage you to check out the Solutions project.org they have done an analysis not only the United States is electricity needs but 130 other countries around the world and we could power the whole place right now if we just decided to do it with wind solar energy some tidal energy some geothermal energy we could run the whole place wouldn't shut down existing nuclear plants but it's really hard to build a new nuclear plant because nobody wants them around running to asks a double rainbow I saw a couple months ago what causes double rainbow opposed to a normal rainbow well one could make an argument or in a sense there's always a double rainbow it's just the second one is much fainter it doesn't it's not as bright so the background has to be the sky has to be dark enough for you to see it generally our camp asks why is the sky blue why can't it be green careful what you wish for air molecules are spaced in such a way that when waves of light pass between them they are scattered as we increase the greenhouse gases in the Earth's atmosphere people have speculated that the scattering will change the molecules that are doing the scattering will be so abundant that the sky will no longer be blue it's not good carry on our camp vexy drawing magnets how do they work their magic no what happens in certain materials the strongest one most common one the one we all know and love is iron and these are steel and steel is almost entirely iron just a little bit of carbon there's what they call a virtual current where the electric electrons are moving from atom to atom and this produces this magnetic field and this tendency is so strong that magnets stay magnetic for centuries mint chocolate chip asked what is the fourth dimension is it smell fourth dimension is time this is not rocket surgery fourth dimension is time X Y Z time lil poundcake asks can artificial intelligence take over the earth yes yes what do you think no I make artificial intelligence are we gonna make a machine that produces electricity in a way that we can't control that takes over for us really who is gonna build that machine how long do you genuinely believe the human race has existed on earth about a hundred thousand years Jerry buck what is dark matter it's not clear but it has apparently an influence like gravity and there's more of it than there is regular matter that you and I are familiar with Jared you person people say that cellphones I think it's might give off radiation to the brain turns out people get brain tumors all the time people talk on cell phone way way more of the time they have done studies trying to connect cell phones and brain tumors there is no connection carry on Farra dom g how safe is acupuncture i new people believe in acupuncture there's no value to it but if you think it works and it makes you feel better carry on will horseradish and rib oohs you leak through you when you after you get acupuncture I don't know run a test try it Brianna Rey they say avocados are good fat but how much avvocato can you eat before it becomes bad fat you can eat a million avocados what do you think for crowd there's calories and avocados just there's also some unsaturated fat avocados are great I recommend an avocado with a poached egg that is that's living mates I wonder what the world would be like after a nuclear war it would suck okay I was in class when professor Carl Sagan talked about this idea of nuclear winter where you'd set off so many nuclear weapons so rapidly that all the debris thrown in the sky would make the earth cold and this was dismissed for a while until Walter and Luis Alvarez found an impact crater off Chicxulub Mexico that was almost certainly where this asteroid hit that killed the ancient dinosaurs in the same way by throwing this cloud of debris that the ejecta the ejected material from that impact was bigger around than the diameter of the earth dr. Chad Sahib so what's concluded about GMOs are they safe to eat or not yes GMOs are safe to eat we feed genetically modified food to rats lab rat mice all the time and they're fine the problem is that what genetically modified organisms have enabled monocultures these enormous fields of the same type of plant and that is led to some environmental problems now how do people actually believe the earth is flat I'm stumped Kelly I don't know how people believe that we have classroom globes we have spacecraft that take pictures you can find documents from medieval times where people knew the world was around Columbus Christopher Columbus knew the world was round he just sold Queen Isabella on the on the idea that he could get it done really fast sailing around the world Derek why are people willing to pay more for organic food when there's absolutely no evidence that is any better for you perception it's marketing man people want to feel that no pesticides were used and they're thinking maybe globally it's not just a question of whether or not it's good for you it's a question of whether or not it's good for the ecosystem and good for the agriculture of the sustainability of our agricultural systems one of these is organic and one of them is genetically modified do you know which one neither do i but generally the bigger one no no you can't tell carry on final question hey Bill are you free for dinner often often thanks for your question carry on thank you all for supporting science we went through your tweets and we had nothing but fun I'm Bill Nye see you next time

https://youtu.be/gGaxo98yHuI