Some nights, my throat gets filled with phlegm and I find it hard to breathe until I empty my throat. I should probably get my throat and lungs checked out. I grew up surrounded by secondhand smoke. I can easily imagine my esophagus being damaged and not able to hold out the snot running from my nose. This makes it very difficult to sleep sometimes. Last night I had the unpleasant experience that lead to me thinking of death. Yay! Mostly in that if I choked in my sleep, I might have no chance to help myself, or reach help. I also wonder some days how long it would be if I died in my sleep that anyone would even realize it. My door is normally shut, and it's rare if anyone comes in.

In any case, I ended up texting my girlfriend at one in the morning, telling her I love her...just in case I don't get another chance.

Just some creative writing exercises.

One

1.      Who is coming around the corner?

I can barely see her through the night vision goggles, but she comes around the corner with a massive dog. I t might be a mastiff, brownish sweater patterned fur. Sort of that damaged by sun blonde hair past her shoulders. She’s wearing a heavier jacket, it’s cold out, but not so cold that she has to zip the jacket up. As she rounds the corner she pulls back, the reaction when you almost ran into someone. She wasn’t expecting me to be there either.

2.      What is their secret?

She stammers apologetically for almost running into me, but I think there’s more to it than that.  She shyly tells me she comes here to snoop around, visit the abandoned places in the state. She tells me her favorite times feeling like she’s the most alive are when she’s spooked herself badly. She brings her massive dog in case she runs into any actually threats. Just like me, she’s not supposed to be here, I’m guessing that’s why she feels comfortable telling me this at all. The only way she’d get in trouble is if I ended up in the hot water too.

3.      What are they carrying?

She’s only got the leash for her dog in her hand, who really doesn’t seem all that unfriendly, as he shoves his nose into my crotch and leaves slobber stains down my pants. I pat his head as she explains, and I can hear worry in her voice. It seems no matter how I reassure her I won’t cause her any trouble, she’s rather used to exploring these places alone, alone-ish. The look of worry on her face becomes so pronounced I have to make a hasty exit to stop freaking her out.

Two

1.      Why did Peter lose his temper with Joanna?

“You lost them? How could you lose something like them? They reflect light blindingly!”

“That’s exactly how I lost them, Peter! They were so bright that when I put them down and walked away so I could see again, I don’t know where I put them. I think, I think someone took them.”

Peter ran his hands through his hair as he paced around. “Someone? Just someone? It could have been anyone and now they have some of the most powerful items in their hands and they have no idea. That’s just great. Of course now the League could pick them up easily. ‘Someone’ doesn’t have the ability to protect them.”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I – “

“You’re sorry?” Peter shouted in her face. “You’re sorry? The enemy could have their hands on them right now, and that’s all you’ve got? You’re sorry. Gah! I just, I can’t take this right now. I’m going looking for them.”

“I’ll come too.”

“No, Joanna, you stay here. You’ve done enough for today, thanks.” Without a word, but with a very loud slam, he left.

2.      Where did he go after he stormed out?

Peter spent the next few hours storming known warehouses of their enemies, the League. Many times it had been asked, “The League of what?” But there had never been an answer. It was just the League. Often they would seem disorganized and clumsy, but this was commonly a front to hide their true competence. For example, on this particular day all but one of the warehouses in the city were completely empty. The last one held a single table in the center of the very empty room, two chairs, and a hanging lamp directly over the table. At the table sat a communication droid that beckoned Peter to sit down after he’d dramatically smashed the door open.

3.      What happened to him when he got there?

Peter approached the table silently. He sat down silently, and waited silently for the droid to speak. When it did, he groaned inwardly in recognition of the voice coming from the mechanical mouth. Samantha was actually one of the most competent members of the League, but she conversed as the complete opposite. Her annoying voice and manner of speech were an act to put someone off their guard, and even though Peter knew all about the tactic, it worked on him too.

“Hi, Petey! I heard you’ve been raiding all of our warehouses today, heehee. I wonder why you would be doing something silly like that.”

“I know you’ve got them Samantha, and I’m going to get them back.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. The only thing we seem to have is a bunch of big old empty buildings. But then, you knew that part.” This was followed by an obnoxious amount of giggling. There was no chance this was as funny as that incessant tittering suggested. Her laugh quickly reached a high enough pitch to bore right into the headache that had been building all day.

“Samantha, I’m giving you one chance to return the tools before I come find them by force. I won’t be nice about this.” Now the robot was miming doubling over with laughter as Samantha’s shrill voice continued its cackling.

Well beyond his ability to put up with this harassment, Peter stood up suddenly, flipping the table and smashing it into the droid. His super strength made quick work of flattening the droid into the concrete floor. Then out of sheer annoyance he broke through the table, then the droid, and left a palm sized crater in the ground. He stood up, let out a sigh, and clapped the dust from his hands. As he walked to the smashed-in exit, he gave thought to reconsidering his position on not murdering his enemies.

These prompts were found here: Practical Creative Writing

Woo, nearly had a driver collide with my car yesterday when he decided not to look before changing lanes. And today I'm depressed as fuck to the point I barely did the warm-up at swimming. Hooray, I suck!

She died for war, which everyone expected.

Writing Prompt For Thursday September 11th, 2014

theseventhsanctum:

She died for war, which everyone expected

Falling in love with one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? Not exactly one of the expected repercussions of the end of the world. Neither was throwing herself in the way of the attack that might have actually killed the harbinger. But there she was, lying in an ever growing pool of her own blood, not really sure what was going to happen next. Dying during the apocalypse was expected for sure. The wars stampeding across the world had left millions dead and anyone could be the next victim. But dying to protect the very living symbol of War itself? No one saw it happening like that.
Why had she done that? He had hardly noticed her before this, and yet she had followed him across the country, just outside the wake of conflict he trailed behind. She really hoped she hadn’t fallen in love because of his looks. He was handsome, but he was sometimes barely corporeal. That couldn’t have been the reason. Perhaps she enjoyed what he represented. Though she didn’t feel full of blood lust or desire the division of all peoples. She supposed it could just be the resigned and defeated look on his face. This was a task he was created for, but he took no joy in it. The idea that he could feel sorrow for the humans who gladly tore each other apart, yes, that could quite definitely be it.
Whatever the reason, she looked up at War one last time. The few who had resisted his call to fight and built a weapon to kill him were already dead. War had dispatched them quickly and he now looked down on her with sad and confused eyes. ‘He looks as confused as I am. I wonder what he’ll do now?' She let out her last breath in a long sad sigh and moved no more.

Where do I go to ask?

Sometimes, when I want to learn something, I feel like I’m asking the right questions, but google isn’t who I should be asking, so my question is taken apart, and I get answers to the wrong questions. I just want to ask questions about random things. Does photosynthesis require the sun’s light because of light, or is it the heat from the light, or is it both? Can you funnel light through a series of mirrors so that it’s just as bright on the far end? Could you create an underground farm, using said funnel to give plants the light they need to grow? Does anyone else ever have this issue?

Mostly Trains and Dragons

Just a post to write some ideas/questions down.

What is modern train travel like? What about in the winter? Are there still cargo cars, just to hold bigger items, or crates? What kind of trains are used in the majority of the railways? Are the longer lines (in distance) using similar kinds of engines? Passenger cars? Cargo? How much is a ticket? What's it like to ride on a train for multiple days? Are pets allowed on trains, and if so, where do they get to stay? Are there livestock cars that pets would join, or are pets different and get different lodging? When and how were railways expanded in Europe and Asia? Are there any zoos or wildlife preserves on the coasts of the United States that hold larger reptiles, perhaps Komodo Dragons? What are the challenges for keeping such large lizards, and their shelters, and food, and temperature for their cold-bloodedness? Could they have outside habitats for bigger reptiles like that, in case big storms or hurricanes came through? Or would they just have indoor places for them to retreat to? What are komodo dragon eggs like? What are some of the larger reptiles alive today?

(Spaced for a different story's ideas/questions) How were the railroads expanded in the United States? And I don't only mean physically, though that's important too. How was planning done to expand the railroads? (Also, I just noticed I automatically changed from using railway when speaking in terms of Europe/Asia, and railroad for the United States...odd) I believe dynamite was invented before the mass expansion done in the U.S., was it used to excavate tunnels for the trains to travel through? How powerful were these explosions if they were in fact used? I believe I've read about dragons in Native American lore, somewhere. I need to read up on those again. I'd like to explore those myths and legends. The idea is some railroad expansion blasting awakens North American dragons, causing chaos and mayhem, and just exploring where that idea could go.

What a Night

Well, tonight has been just...weird. Quite the sort of adventure. First a huge thunderstorm and hailstorm barges into town just after I've let the other employees out the door at work. This effectively traps my manager and I in the store. The hail was so large and in such great number, I honestly worried about the glass windows of the storefront. We sit at the front doors, looking out, for a good ten minutes as the rain and hail continues to pound the area. In what we thought was a lull, we try to make a break for it.
The only lull was us being lulled into a false sense of security. Not only has the hail not lessened, but we find ourselves trudging through several inches of freezing water that has pooled in our parking lot. It easily came up to my manager's knees and nearly to mine. Now, the plan is to get us both to my car, and I'd take her to her own, which is in the back. But now we just sit in my car while it warms up, hoping to warm up ourselves, and hoping the driving hail lets up a bit and none of it smashes through my windshield.
I slowly drive around to the back with my shoes off, as they're soaked through and I figure my feet will get warm faster without them. (I can actually pour water out of my shoes at this point) She gets in her car and finally the weather dies enough for us to get out of work about half an hour later than normal. As I drive for home, I notice no hail outside of two miles or so from my work. Was it just localized on the store? My town down the road didn't even receive rain.

Later I had to go pick up some friends who were out drinking and needed a ride. After picking them up through the dense fog that has arisen from the sublimating hail/snow, I'm driving along a very empty road. Just as one of my passengers asks me if he can open his window and I begin to fiddle with the air conditioning, a massive stag appears from the mist in front of us. I manage to slow and swerve into the empty oncoming lane, and it darts back into the field from whence it came, but still harrowing.
It was like this night was out to get me. I half expected we'd arrive at my house with just enough time to put out a fire that started while I'd been away. Thankfully no new disasters awaited.

Six Words

"Thank you." Says a voice behind me.
"Pardon me?" I turn. Oh, it's her.
"I was told you were using the tubes to send out apology letters. I haven't yet received mine, but thank you even so."
I gesture at the pile I have left. "Only a few more to do, though I've been saving yours for last. I'm not quite sure what to write."
"You don't?"
"The problem lies in how little sincerity it would contain. You see, what I did to you felt completely and utterly justified, and I stand by that decision even now. I've managed to narrow it down to three letters." She's moved close now, close enough I hear her swallow before speaking
"What...what are your choices?" I still feel angry, so I tell her.
"The first letter would seem the most genuine, if any of the sentiment were true. It looks like most of the other letters I've written today. The only difference is the platitudes would be truly insincere. I don't know if I could feel good about sending out such an obviously false apology.
"I could write an apology that, to anyone outside our peculiar relationship, would seem like an ordinary apology. In truth it would be full of scorn and snark and sarcasm. You'd be able to tell just by looking at it. I would for certain write down 'I'm sorry' but it wouldn't feel true to you. And in truth would most likely fill you with an equal sense of loathing as the satisfaction that would fill me.
"Finally, the third letter would be six words."
"Six words?"
"Your name. I'm sorry. My name."
Her glare could cut butter, and if she doesn't release that breath she's holding she's bound to turn purple. Though that would suit her better than the red currently adorning her face.
She grabs an empty and thrusts it toward me.
"Fine! That last one! Write that. Do it now and I'll take it and you'll be done. But we'll talk about this later." I scribble down the six words, hand it to her, and watch her leave the room in a quiet storm.
I turn to finish the remaining letters and go to inform my teacher I'd finished.
"Did you write one to her?" I didn't need her to define which 'her' she meant.
"I did. She even came to collect it personally, though I was not done with it when she arrived. She waited until I had completed it and took it without reading it. I assume she waited until she reached her room."
It was good enough and I was allowed to return to my room. I laid on my bed and let myself believe that would be the end of it for a while.

A/N: Sorry a lot of this is vague, it was written down post haste after waking so it wouldn't run away. Please ask questions so I know what to expand on.

Guardian Shield

I have an idea for a sad origin story for a hero. His powers extend to manipulating shields he creates. He can create the shield at pretty much any size, any shape, can manipulate it how he likes. Unfortunately, it draws off of his own energy, and the bigger and more complicated it is, the more energy it takes. His shields are pretty much invulnerable, can’t be pierced, as long as he’s got the energy to maintain them.

He’s been traveling the world, and is currently staying in a small village in a remote region of Earth. He's helping them recover from a recent natural disaster. He wasn’t there for it, but decided he should help. He meets up with another Powered individual, named Conduit. That’s the name she took, anyway. She won’t give her real name. She’s good at siphoning and redirecting energy. She understands and speaks the language and so is often his translator.

One day, he wakes up to find the sky a strange color, and a glowing orb overhead. It is not the sun. Using an emergency radio, Conduit discovers it’s an asteroid that had been hurtling toward Earth for a long time now. Governments worldwide had tried to stop it, and when their efforts failed, kept quiet to prevent panic. Now the rock was here, and the planet had little time left.

Conduit looks to him and asks him if his shield could deflect it. He scoffs, saying that it could if he had enough energy, but that it would surely kill him in the process, even if he had. Dispirited, Conduit goes through the village sharing the news with the frightened villagers. Now, they’ve seen his abilities. He’s held up houses that were collapsing until supports could be put into place. They all know his strength.

Slowly, the entire village gathers in the center of the square he’s standing in, still watching the asteroid. Conduit approaches him and asks him to try turning the asteroid away. He turns to look at her, and states again that he doesn’t have the energy to create a shield massive enough to deflect it. She responds by telling him he doesn’t have enough on his own. Suddenly he feels the eyes of every person there, looking at him. Her idea clicks into his mind and he staggers back, horrified.

She explains that the people had come up with the idea together, asking if there was anything they could do to help. “How could I tell them no? Let us help you deflect it.”

He shakes his head violently. “Don’t you understand? If I could kill myself off by using too large a shield, it would kill them too. No. No, no no no no no…”

Conduit sniffs, wiping at tears. “Not just them, redirecting that much energy would fry me too. But I’m willing to do it. And so are they. Please, take it and use it to save the world.” He’s fallen back to the ground, and tears run unhindered down his face.

"I…I can’t…" But he sees their eyes, sees them clasp hands. Men, women, children, all linking together. As the last of them grasp Conduit’s hand, and she extends hers toward him, his resolve shatters. With people this brave behind him, how could he be any less?

He reaches up and takes her hand.

Days later, a small recon team from an unrecognized government agency descend on the village. As the asteroid diverted from its disastrous course, an energy surge was detected and located. Upon arrival, they discover the source of the redirection, digging hundreds of graves.

Angel Story Ideas

I’m being chased by a police officer, who is shooting after me rather haphazardly. He’s trying to kill me, though I hold no weapon and there are innocents bystanding about. I flee into the police station, trying to get some help from the psycho cop. I burst in with my arms up and empty to the front desk yelling “I’m being attacked by a maniac!” The lady behind the desk looks startled for the moment before the cop follows me inside. I turn to him as he speaks, deep and echoing, “He’s a demon.”

The female cop’s eyes change as her face otherwise goes slack. Becoming sunken, they take on a yellow, almost-gold, color. I sigh as her face changes and she starts to stand. The pursuing police officer starts to raise his gun as I take a solemn pose. I take a similar stance as a manservant might, with my feet together. My right hand clasps lightly as if to grip something and is placed upon my stomach. The slightly bent fingers of my left hand rest on my back, palm out. I bend at the waist in a bow, and hear the click of the pistol crying its emptiness. The woman has just reached the weapon at her side as a white flame covers my body.

In a white flash I return, to an outside viewer, covered in armor, carrying a sword and shield. Still in the bowed position, the sword extends out of my right hand while the shield is grasped in my left behind my back. I stand quickly and immediately sheath the blade. I spin to backhand the being in the woman’s body before she finishes leveling her gun. I knock it out of her hand and her to the ground as my shield is brought up between the first officer and I as I complete the turn.

I turn to face him just as a glowing blade swings at me. I swear as I move the shield out of the way before contact can be made and sidestep just barely in time. The blade cuts deeply into the floor as the officer misses me. I quickly bash the man in the head with my shield sending him staggering away. He has not dropped the weapon. I keep my ears open and hope that the filter keeps normal police from observing the fight. I close on the man and slam him into the notice board on the wall so his weapon arm is pinned.

“A holy weapon, huh? Those’ll cut through pretty much anything. ‘Course, if you’re the one wielding it and I’m winning, I’m guessing this region wasn’t issued any others than that one. If you didn’t just find it in the street. Can you guess why its holy light didn’t frighten me?”

I slam his head against the cork, shaking papers and thumbtacks loose. I whisper into his ear, “I. Am. Not. A demon.”

(Holy light will frighten lesser demons and some of the bigger ones. Creatures of evil tend to be wary as well. Spells they use tend to be less effective in the light of a holy weapon.)

And with one more smashing of his head he crumples, unconscious. I turn and walk to the just recovering second cop.

“You must still be in training if you took that hit that hard. Got a pen?” I take the one from her shirt before knocking her out with the shield face. Taking one of the fallen papers from the notice board I scribble a quick message on it. I lift the sheet over my head, looking directly into the camera pointed at me. Then I take it into the small public restroom near me and after hiding it, I change back into street clothes, mimicking the position I held earlier.

I walk out, leaving the unconscious police to be found after I’m gone.

“I hate immortals.”

So angels come in a hierarchy, with four levels. Cherubs are the weakest, and don’t fight at all. They’re manipulators. Cupid is a Cherub, he manipulates relationships. Generally though, he won’t do it unless the outcome helps things on a bigger scale. Because of the scarcity of the need for them, Cherubs are the fewest in number. And since manipulation is often seen as a sort of nasty thing to do, the only people who ascend to become Cherubs are those who do it with purity and benevolence in their hearts.

Then there are Guardian Angels. They take positions in society as regular people, but often in places that they can protect the average person. You’ll find a lot of Guardians in police work. Some in military, some as teachers, or guides for social services. They protect people and are decent fighters. Taking up police work allows them mortal weapons, which allow them to blend in and fight on mortal terms, though a few do have holy weapons. Guardians are not terribly bright once they’ve made a decision on if something is a threat. If they deem it as a supernatural threat, they may not stop until it’s dead or destroyed, which was my problem in the above conflict.

Angels are next. This is the standard angel, though they are stronger than the previous two. I myself would never think of fighting more than two, at maximum. They’re fast, powerful, and regenerate quickly. They can be killed, but only with certain types of weapons, nothing I carry on me. I would never use my blade on a Guardian, but with Angels, it’s rather necessary to defend myself. Injuring them is the only way to slow them down. Their rate of regeneration is so great, I don’t feel too bad about lopping off a wing or a leg. They’ll be back to good within a minute.

I don’t like fighting angels, of any kind. Ultimately, they fight for good, and I’m also a strong supporter of Good. But every now and then angels will be convinced I am or harbor evil, and attack me. As in the story above, I put my sword away when fighting Guardians, because they take up normal positions in society, and I actually have a chance of killing them. I’m just a better fighter than the majority at their level. I don’t want to leave the corpses of cops behind which will turn on the manhunt for me, and as I said before, they really do fight for good, and I’m not going to oppose that by killing them. Capital A Angels are much better fighters, don’t take up positions in society, and are trained to hunt and kill demons. I can match some one-on-one and fight to a standstill. Two is pushing my limits, and I have to fight at the top of my game in order to survive. If more than two appeared to oppose me, I’d immediately give up. I’m just not that good.

Now, for the last tier of angels, I don’t know a whole lot about them. You don’t run into them often, usually only as a last words kind of meeting. Archangels are death. Very few can stand up to even one of them, and those few are usually other Archangels dueling, or powerful Demonlords. Archangels are reality warpers. If they want to decide your lungs are pudding, there’s not much you can do about that. They supposedly almost never pull out actually weapons, relying on their warping abilities. But even if that were a reliable bit of information, I would never assume an Archangel couldn’t fight like they had eight arms with infinite reach. Fearsome would be an understatement. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting only one Archangel so far in my life, and the experience left me terrified of them. I knew that if one was legitimately coming after me, I would be dead. I would have no hope of fighting, at all.

I’m still not sure if there is a god or not at the top of the tier. I wouldn’t even know if that’d be capital g ‘God,’ or just a god or if it’s just the sense of good in the universe. It doesn’t really matter. We mortals just do our best to live our lives. That’s all that’s important.

What’s that? You want to hear about how I met an Archangel? All right. It’s not very long, and I never got the name of the Archangel…which to be honest probably would have burned my soul if she had told it to me. Anyway…

Apparently two Angels had been chasing after a fairly powerful demon. They briefly lost track of it and came across me, sans armor. They must have assumed because of my magical aura, that any significantly strong being can detect if I’m not hiding it, the demon had entered and possessed me.

With hardly a warning they attacked me, my senses blurring into high alert. I barely manage to pull my armor, weapon and shield up while dodging their attacks. A significant weakness in the transformation process, I know. You try pulling off a pose while dodging attacks! After trying to counterattack, I quickly come to the realization these are Angels, and I am in a world of trouble. They don’t tire easily, and if they were truly after me, two was more than enough. I’m defending myself to the best of my ability, which is difficult because their weapons are holy blades. I have to dodge instead of block or parry because these holy weapons are designed to cut through pretty much anything, and that list would include whatever my armaments are made out of. I’m cutting off limbs and bashing them in the face with my shield, just trying to get some room to breathe.

The problem is that the Angels would expect a demon to fight back, but if I had just let them attack me without defending myself, they probably wouldn’t have thought to check until after I was dead. Collateral damage is not exactly their primary concern. I would still be dead. So it’s hard to convince two Angels, who are in the middle of combat with you, that you’re not evil. Not that I knew the reason I was being assaulted, but my actions did not help my case.

I’ve just slashed through the wing of one of the Angels and can feel the blade of the other diving toward my now exposed back. I’m suddenly aware of another presence near me and I realize my body is immobile. I can feel the power radiating off this new being. It terrifies me so quickly I don’t realize the Angels have been frozen as well. Against my will my head turns and I look upon the face of a practically dressed woman. Her face is stern as she leans in toward my own. Inches away she asks for my name. I’m so scared of this woman, of the power she gives off that I panic and give her my birth name. Her eyes narrow at me, and if my entire body weren’t Time Locked, I would have emptied my bowels right then.

“Do not play games with me. Your true name. Now.” I’m panicking right now, so my voice squeaks as I give it to her.

She stares, without hyperbole, into my soul for a long time. Then my view changes and I can move my body. I’m standing in a neutral position, as are the Angels on the other side of the clearing we had been fighting in. The woman stands near them, and I can still feel the strength of her aura. The angels look confused for a moment before noticing her. They salute and it dawns on me that she is an Archangel. She speaks to the Angels.

“This one is not your quarry. His true name is still yet his own.”

Some background for this. If a Demon possesses a person, their true name can determine the case. If a person was taken over against their will, the Demon will not know their true name, and an Angel, and clearly an Archangel, can see through any deception. If a person willfully gave the Demon safe harbor, the true name may be known by the Demon, but it will sound false, tainted. In my case, I knew my true name, and though spoken as an adolescent, it rang with truth. I had no Demon inside of me.

To my horror, one of the Angels tried arguing with the Archangel. I’m not always a smart man, but you don’t argue with any being with that much obvious power and authority. It’s all ‘yes ma’am’s and ‘no ma’am’s with them. Respect. He got one word out, and I would have sworn I’d been time locked again if I hadn’t seen the motion that put him on his back in an instant. There was no argument after that.

The Angels disappeared, presumably to continue their chase of whatever quarry they had been after. She turns to me and with a slight smirk manages to terrify me all over again.

“You fight well. Perhaps one day you will join us.” And for some reason, I let my voice speak its idiotic mind.

“With all due respect, ma’am, that was an exceedingly creepy thing to say!” Honestly, I shouldn’t still be standing here to tell this story, but she gave a short bark of amusement. A great big, “Hah!” before turning and disappearing. I fell to my ass, and squatted there exhausted, pondering the luck my continued existence.

More Ideas to Follow

I've been thinking about Terraforming recently. Been looking into it a bit to learn what the challenges are and where such tech might be at. Mostly I just feel dumb looking at the information provided, but I still pose my own questions. For example, could you slowly expand an atmosphere? Like, build a small, sealed greenhouse on another planet, filling it with plants that would fill said greenhouse with oxygen and basically setting up what is needed for humans to live on it. Then over time have the green house expand and expand as more trees and other plants are added and as it slowly spreads across the planet the atmosphere gets bigger and more gases that are needed for life fill the air above the planet. On that same level, have we managed to create weather in contained spaces? Perhaps we create a miniature earth where we replicate conditions that would create types of weather, including an artificial sun and things like that. Could that produce weather in an enclosed place? I'm basically wondering if a water cycle could be restarted on a planet like Mars, to go with the growing atmosphere and the trees. So that you could have less dependence on a watering system and if it came time to just open the greenhouse to let the atmosphere out onto the planet proper, a weather system would be practically in place.
Could a space elevator be built anywhere on the world if the conditions were right? Said conditions are things like planes and weather not destroying it. Could a space elevator be built at one of the poles? Or since our planet doesn't spin that way, would the anchor in space not work? I know we currently don't have anything that could make up such a space elevator, material wise, but I like to think of things to come. If we managed to build a space elevator, we could build bigger ships and space stations easier. We wouldn't be spending fuel to get fuel into space, which limits how much fuel the ship could carry anyway. With a space elevator all the fuel could ride on it up into orbit, and be put to use in ships that are built in outer space. We wouldn't have as much in the way of weight limitations and we could possibly build colony ships or deep space exploration ships. We could be exploring the galaxy in no time. Especially if what I hear about a near FTL drive is even remotely possible. Some scientists seem to be coming up with ideas about how to reach the speed by distorting the space in front of the ship, which would move space around the matter of the vehicle, which seems to be the problem with reaching light speed. I'm probably getting everything wrong, but this is mostly stream of consciousness and I don't really want to go looking for the facts right now.
Can sound itself disrupt air? I've always really loved the idea of sonic weapons that aren't just sound, they can strike targets and move them. Or in a different application, be used to move the subject that fires it. I figure if sound could disrupt the air, it could probably have a physical presence enough to move objects.
I still want to learn about fire fighting techniques for wild fires and fires in hard to reach places like mountains and ravines. It seems like so many of the methods are simply, let it burn itself out and hope it doesn't catch something else on fire. That seems inefficient. I watch videos of the planes and helicopters dropping water and fire retardant and it looks like it gets too spread out to really help affect the fire. One of my previous ideas I've modified. It's less a fire truck on spindly legs, and more of a support vehicle now. It doesn't fight the fire itself, but more of a troop transport. High temperature resistant hull and when the firefight gets literally too hot for the fighters to stand, they can retreat inside until it's safer or even pull out. Inside would be benches on either side for them to sit, masks, oxygen tanks, other supplies that may get damaged or lost or otherwise need to be replaced. The shell would still be armored for falling trees or other debris, but it's not a tank to fight the flames anymore, more like an armored car.

Enchanted Acoustics

Playing gigs on the road can be rough going. More often than not we're outdoors with nothing but the audience and maybe a small hill to play the music off of. Of course, that's why I'm here. I make the music awesome at any distance. At any location. I could make your mother enjoy it at her stuffy retirement home. Most people don't even notice me, or recognize that I'm just as important to the band as the people playing the music, but that's okay. I'm not doing it for the recognition. I'm doing it to watch the wave of exhilaration wash over their faces as the tunes hit them.
I'm an Acoustical Enchantress. Title's a little intimidating sounding, huh? It's not too hard to get. I just take the music as it flows from the speakers and make sure it hits everyone in the right ways at the right times. I change the acoustics of an open area without bringing in walls and extra speakers. Doing this allows people to hear different volume and nuance during parts of a song, and it strengthens presence of the music. Of course, I can't just do it on the fly, so before we play a location, I've spend a few hours before scouting the performance area. We also play a test tune for our opener, so I can adjust for the crowd.

I don't know why I'm here again. Even when I've got things to say, they just turn out wrong, or don't really convey the feelings I'm trying to express. I feel like if I were to write them down, they wouldn't eat at my stomach so much, cause so much pain. I regret hanging up on you, but I really am tired of you accusing me of lying in the things I say. Have I not told you before I don't feel comfortable speaking on the phone? I hate it. So when I speak with such dispassion, it has nothing to do with the veracity of my words. I just don't want to be speaking. Because when I speak and I get impatient with trying to speak and having you speak over me, I tend to raise my voice and get angry. Which turns into immediate regret, and thus more stomach eating. It also serves to make me not want to talk more than anything monosyllabic. On the phone or in a direct conversation. I don't tend to feel comfortable talking in our conversations. I have literally nothing to add, usually because I've said it all before, but also because NOTHING happens in my life worth talking about. I don't like talking about my social situations, because I feel awkward enough just BEING at those, let alone talking about them. You seem to forget this. You think that because I went my social anxiety disappears on the spot. Never mind that everyone there knows each other, and they all have in-jokes and previous stories to laugh about and share again with each other. Where am I supposed to interrupt with my stupid self? "Oh, haha, that was a funny story of stuff I don't get because I wasn't there, would you like to hear the story of when I did nothing and that was funny because I'm lonely and boring?" Sounds like a rip-roaring good time, right? No. And you make me angry sometimes, because it seems you'll disparage any job that is not your field of your degree. If it makes less than sixteen dollars an hour. Well guess what? You're still living in an uncomfortable situation with your mother, and you won't consider retail or any other job that the majority of people in this country are scrambling for. You think you're the only one who can't find a job in their field? That actually describes the MAJORITY of college graduates.
And it feels like I can't tell you any of this, because you'll spin it into some tangent about how you're still doing better than your mother, and boohoo, she gripes at you about money that you don't have because you don't have a job. I know you want a job that feels fulfilling and uses the skills you've learned at school and during your indentured servitude, I mean internship, but life sucks. Until you can find a job like that, A job will do. It can help get you away from your mother, into an area where you can actually look for a job instead of buttfuck nowhere, hoping you can find a job and then still have enough gas to get to an interview. And I'm sorry for writing all of this, but fuck I get so frustrated talking with you sometimes.